Ray’s shelf

kpop fan | fic reader and writer 29 | she/her | 18+ minors do not interact

[sunnyreccs]

hi there!

welcome to my sideblog for all things fic related 🤗

mostly kpop, but maybe some other interests thrown in here or there!

groups most likely to show up: stray kids, ateez, bts

will contain both sfw and nsfw (18+) content, so no minors please

main blog: @sunnyville36

blog rules

navigation

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together | series masterlist.

summary: you're finally getting your dream job, working with some of the best dancers in the business, but a job change means a break in your healthcare coverage and suppressants these days are expensive. going into heat at the studio pretty much seems like the worst case scenario, but you find yourself in the care of two alphas who won't let you go through it alone.

pairings: yunho x mingi x reader as the main pairing, but features seonghwa x san x wooyoung x reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory, non!idol!reader, non!idol!ateez, alpha!yunho, alpha!mingi, omega!fem!reader, alpha!seonghwa, alpha!san, omega!wooyoung

warnings: handled on a chapter by chapter basis, but just know now that this is an omegaverse fic so everything that goes with that like heat, knotting, etc. will be discussed across the board. any stronger cw/tw will be clearly identified, but please note that there are conversations around consent throughout.

current word count: 158.6k

main storyline:

one ✿ two ✿ three ✿ four ✿ five ✿ six ✿ seven ✿ eight ✿ nine ✿ ten ✿ eleven ✿ twelve ✿ thirteen ✿ fourteen ✿ fifteen ✿ sixteen ✿ seventeen ✿ more to come...

deleted/extra scenes:

in their hands; 7.7k (chapter 12 from the boys perspective)

if you prefer to read on AO3, you can find that here.

my fic masterlist can be found here!

[jenorotic]

strawberries and cream : nicholas wang

&team mlst

pairing — nicholas wang x f!reader

warnings — suggestive, insecure!reader, established relationship, lingerie, nico is gone for you

syn — you decide to surprise nicholas with sexy lingerie

y/n/n = (your nickname)

is this really feminism? you wondered as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

it’s not not feminism, your mind supplied unhelpfully.

yes, you’ve read all those bitch media articles about owning your kinky shit and using your sexualized body as a source of empowerment. you’d consumed plenty of store-rack erotic thrillers in your lifetime and, though many of them hadn’t quite done it for you, you knew when to shut your brain off. the lingerie you’ve picked wasn’t even that risqué.

it was just that – you didn’t want to be inauthentic. you didn’t want to be something you wasn’t. more than anything, you were scared that nicholas would laugh at you, because this wasn’t you, and this wasn’t something you both did. most of your quality time together was spent in comfortable, baggy shirts and pajama pants.

the two times you’d both had sex, he’d always made sure you were super comfortable, which for you meant not showing too much skin and having the lights off. nicholas hadn’t pressured you to reveal more, he’d been so sweet and gentle and patient, and he’d told you you were “so beautiful”, in fact he told you that every day, but you had always had a difficult time believing it. it wasn’t that you belittled yourself on purpose; you just felt so fucking mediocre. on bad days, you felt downright gross, on good days, you just felt basic.

so maybe this was an attempt to persuade yourself otherwise.

you’d considered asking your sister or any other woman in your life for advice, but promptly scrapped that idea. they’d want to know who this was for, and you did not feel comfortable sharing your boyfriend’s identity yet, or that you had a boyfriend at all. frankly, you didn’t have the guts to consult with anyone on the purchase of lingerie, so you’d just gone with your gut. you looked at body suits and bralettes, but those options had felt too safe, too much like your old self who always put herself down and never experimented.

so you bought a full bustier and garter belt. this, to you, was the height of boldness. to really seal your fate, you’d chosen a dark, sultry red. you were wearing the ensemble right now. it worked well with your choice of lipstick, but it did not match the nervous wreck you were inside.

oh god, you looked ridiculous, didn’t you?

the knock on the door startled you.

“hey, y/n/n – you all right in there?”

nicholas’ kind, slightly worried voice didn’t really settle your stomach, but it did make you realize you couldn’t stay in the bathroom all night.

having been around him for a while now, you’d come to notice that, much like you, he was a habitual worrier, only he tried not to show it.

“um, yeah, i’m just washing my face, sorry.”

“no, take your time baby,” he spoke softly. “let me know if you need anything. i made you some jasmine tea.”

your heart fluttered in your chest. goddamn it, nico. he’d made you tea, because he knew you liked it before bed. but tea didn’t go well with lingerie, did it?

“aww, thanks, babe,” you said, trying to sound cheerful and not absolutely panicked. “i’ll be out in a minute.”

“okay, i’ll be in bed.”

once he was out of earshot, you let out a long sigh. you could just take off the lingerie and slip into your snuggly pj’s and enjoy tea and a netflix documentary with your boyfriend and not worry about looking fuckable.

or, you could stop being a coward.

“fucking fearless,” you mouthed at the reflection in the mirror. but then your shoulders sagged. “fuck me.”

that’s the idea, a sarcastic voice chimed in your head.

show time.

nicholas was sitting in bed, scrolling through his phone absently when you stepped into the room and paused in the doorway. you were wearing his bathrobe, wrapped from your throat to your knees. and you were trembling. you looked terrified.

he knew right away something was off.

he sat up, alert and concerned. “everything okay?”

you held up a finger. “don’t – don’t say anything. and don’t laugh. okay?”

nicholas frowned. he was far from amused. “why would i –”

“just humor me. you promise to be cool?”

nico nodded reluctantly. and then you started to untie the robe.

you let the bathrobe slide down your shoulders slowly until it fell with a thud at your feet.

you leaned back against the wall, sucking in a breath. you felt like you’d stepped out on a podium in front of a live audience. like walking to class in your underwear.

it was excruciating, but also kind of thrilling.

you couldn’t read much on nico’s face, at first. he blinked several times, adjusting to the sight of you, like he couldn’t quite take you in. and then, you saw it, the widening of his eyes, the glimmer of pure shock.

his lips parted in disbelief. his entire jaw fell, in fact. he looked like he’d been dealt a blow to the gut. like he was in some kind of physical pain.

that’s good, right? you thought, chest rising in panic. normally, your boyfriend’s poker face was unmatched. he knew how to shut himself down so effectively, it sometimes spooked you.

but right now, he looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

he looked completely unmoored.

nicholas didn’t know where to look first. his eyes roamed, unable to settle. blinded by the shape of you in all that fucking lace.

his throat felt thick, but he could barely swallow.

you, in fucking red garters, served to him like strawberries and cream on a silver platter.

the way you kept breathing fast, breasts straining against the corset made all the blood go straight to his dick, like he was a teenager again.

he wanted to keep staring at you, pressed up against the wall, thighs rubbing against each other shyly, but he also wanted to tear the clasps on your thighs with his teeth. and beyond the raw lust, he felt a hunger, not just for your body, but for what it represented, this gesture, this giving of yourself to him, for him, in spite of your fears.

he could tell you were scared. and he knew he was supposed to say the right things to assure that you looked fucking amazing, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth and all he could do was ask weakly, hoarsely, “how are you gonna do that to a man?”

you bit your lip, face hot. “i’m sorry?”

nicholas’ eyes darkened as you took a step towards the bed. he shook his head slightly. the tick in his jaw seemed to say, you will be.

you felt desired in a way that eclipsed your anxiety and overthinking. the delicious anticipation coursing through you, silenced your doubts. if nicholas had started telling you how beautiful and good and sexy you looked, it wouldn’t have been as powerful as his dumbfounded silence, his inability to say anything more than issue a kind of accusation: how are you gonna do that to a man?

he’d crawled to the edge of the bed, crawled to you until his head was level with your corset. his fingers trembled as they ghosted over the clasps and belts of your garment. he carefully skimmed the hem of your red underwear with his thumb, throat working silently. you could tell he was trying to rein himself in, go slow.

emboldened by his quiet reverence, you pushed him back on the bed. nicholas exhaled as he looked up at you. you looked so fucking good towering over him. you leaned forward, one knee on the bed, and pushed yourself into his lap. your boyfriend nearly hissed. you let your thighs rub against his crotch before you slid away from him. nicholas groaned, rushing to catch you, hands fumbling hungrily, dragging you back to him, his palm hot on the dip of your spine, caressing the slope of your ass in that red lace, giving it a light, experimental slap which made you clench in surprise. you liked that. you definitely wanted more of that. but you didn’t want to lose focus. you reached for the mug on the nightstand.

fuck, how were you making jasmine tea sexy?

you were determined to drink your tea, like you did every night. you gulped it down sloppily, letting the liquid spill down you chin, into your bustier, between your breasts.

he didn’t need you to say it. he was the definition of thirsty. he lunged for you with a growl. he started with your lips and drank his way down.

the second growl that escaped his mouth when the clasps gave way to his fingers, made you want to wear lingerie to bed every night, no matter how uncomfortable.

but it’s when you were finally, truly naked with him and he could see every part of you that you’d always hidden that you felt truly present. no longer invisible.

he paused for breath, staring down at you.

“you’re all i want,” he murmured hoarsely, bending down to kiss the side of your throat.

you ran your hand tenderly through his hair and settled it on the bundle of muscles between his shoulder blades.

“i want you more,” you whispered in his ear, pressing a kiss there, and the man on top of you shuddered with want and the acceptance that someone else wanted him in return.

"say it again," he spoke against your mouth. you obliged.

you told him exactly how you felt about him as he sank inside you, again and again, until you couldn't anymore, until the words were rendered useless in your mouth.

© 2026 JENOROTIC all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other platforms. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred! i don’t take requests.

[smidare]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀LOVE ME KNOT ⠀、 nekoz

❤︎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀what happens when your boyfriend accidentally ropes in your mutual friend to help untie a partiularly hard knot?

•⠀‎‎  masterlist ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎𓋰‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎💬 ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎6,441 wc ─── ᛫ bf!yuma . . ft. nicholas, shibari, bondage, bdsm themes, threesome, oral (f. & m. rec), unprotected p in v, face fucking, clit play, overstimulation, squirting, yuma is a good sport about sharing his girl, lowk cuck yuma, cumming outside, a bit of degradation, praise kink, hair pulling, spitting, use of color coded safe word system, kitty as a petname, aftercare. don't copy/translate my work. i only write on tumblr.

you and yuma had always been good at this.

not just the sex—though that had always been easy, instinctive, the kind of chemistry that made your friends roll their eyes when you disappeared from parties early. it was the quiet parts too: the way he remembered how you took your coffee, the way he’d text you stupid memes at 3 a.m. when he knew you couldn’t sleep, the way he never made you feel like you had to perform. he was steady. warm. safe.

lately, though, safe had started to feel like a cage.

it wasn’t that anything was wrong. yuma still fucked you like he meant it—deep, attentive, always making sure you came first, sometimes twice, before he even thought about himself. he knew your body better than anyone. knew when to pin your wrists and when to let you ride him slow. knew the exact pressure on your throat that made your vision spark without ever crossing the line into fear.

but it had become… predictable.

you’d started craving something sharper. something that made your stomach drop the way it used to when you were first figuring each other out. you didn’t know how to ask for it without sounding like you were complaining about something that was, objectively, really fucking good.

so when yuma brought it up on a random tuesday night, you almost thought you’d hallucinated it.

you were curled up on the couch in his apartment — the one with the big window that looked out over the quieter side of shibuya, the one you’d started calling “ours” without ever saying it out loud. he had your feet in his lap, thumbs working slow circles into your arches while some old drama played on low volume. his voice was quiet when he spoke.

“i’ve been thinking about trying something new.”

you turned your head, cheek pressed to the cushion. “yeah?”

he didn’t look at you right away. his ears had gone a little pink.

“shibari,” he said. then, quicker, like he needed to get it out before he lost his nerve: “i’ve been looking into it. not the suspension stuff—i’m not that good yet. just… tying. the way it looks. the way it feels. i thought maybe… if you wanted… we could try it. together.”

your cunt clenched so hard around nothing it almost hurt.

yuma finally glanced over, nervous but hopeful. “i bought some rope. soft stuff. i’ve been practicing on a pillow like an idiot for two weeks. i know the basic chest harness and a box tie. i watched a bunch of tutorials on safety and circulation and shit. i even bought safety shears.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “i just… i keep thinking about how pretty you’d look. and how much i’d like to see you let go like that. completely. but only if you want it. if it’s too much, we can forget i said anything.”

you sat up slowly. your heart was beating in your throat.

“i want it,” you said, and your voice came out rougher than you expected. “i’ve been wanting… something. i don’t know how to explain it. it’s not that what we have is bad, it’s just—”

“safe,” yuma finished quietly. he nodded like he understood. “i’ve felt it too. like we’re in this really good rhythm and i don’t want to mess it up, but part of me keeps wondering what it would feel like if i pushed a little harder. if i made you really helpless for once.”

the honesty in his voice made something in your chest loosen.

you talked for almost an hour after that.

he showed you the rope—deep black, soft cotton, nothing cheap. he let you feel it between your fingers. he explained the ties he wanted to try, showed you pictures on his phone (all artistic, consensual, beautiful). he told you he’d practiced the release knots until his fingers ached. you set a safeword together—the same one you always used, just in case. you talked about what “green/yellow/red” would look like when you couldn’t use your hands. you talked about aftercare. about what you both needed if it got intense.

by the time you went to bed that night, you were so wet you had to change your underwear.

you didn’t do it right away. yuma wanted to make sure he was actually ready, not just horny and impulsive. so for the next week and a half, it became this slow, delicious secret between you.

he’d text you during the day—pictures of rope laid out on the bed, or a new tutorial he’d found, or just a simple thinking about you tied up rn. can’t focus at work.

you’d send him back increasingly desperate replies.

one night he came over after a late practice and spent an hour just tying your arms behind your back over your clothes, nothing sexual, just practicing the tension and the feel of the rope on skin. he checked your circulation every few minutes, made you wiggle your fingers, asked if anything pinched. when he finally untied you, your arms were warm and heavy and you were so turned on you almost begged him to fuck you right there on the living room floor.

he didn’t. he kissed you slow and deep and told you, “not yet. i want the first time to be right.”

the night it finally happened, the air in the apartment felt different the second you walked in.

yuma had cleaned. really cleaned. the good candles were lit—the ones that smelled like sandalwood and something sweet. the bedroom was warm, low light, sheets fresh. the rope was already laid out on the bed in neat coils, safety shears on the nightstand like a quiet promise that if it got too much—there was an immediate out.

he met you at the door with a kiss that tasted like nerves and mint.

“you sure?” he asked against your mouth, hands sliding under your jacket to rest at your waist. “we can still just watch a movie. no pressure.”

you looked up at him—your steady, careful, secretly filthy boyfriend—and felt something molten settle low in your stomach.

“i’m sure,” you said. “i want this. i want you to tie me up and fuck me until i forget how to think. and i want to feel it tomorrow.”

yuma’s smirked at your words—exhale shaky as his hands tightened.

“okay,” he whispered. “then let’s do it right.”

he took his time undressing you.

not rushed, not frantic—slow, almost worshipful. he peeled off your layers one by one, kissing each new inch of skin like he was mapping it for the first time. when you were finally bare, he stepped back and just looked at you for a long moment, eyes dark.

“on the bed,” he said quietly. “on your back first. arms up by the headboard.”

you obeyed.

the first touch of rope against your skin made you shiver.

yuma started with the chest harness.

he worked in sections, explaining softly as he went—not because you needed the tutorial, but because talking seemed to steady his hands. the rope slid over your ribs, under your breasts, around your back. he pulled it snug but not tight, checking the tension with two fingers every time. when he finished the first layer and the rope framed your tits, pushing them forward slightly, he sat back on his heels and stared.

“jesus christ,” he breathed. “you look… fuck.”

you could feel how wet you already were, thighs pressing together instinctively.

he kept going.

the box tie for your arms took longer. he wanted it perfect—secure enough that you couldn’t slip out, comfortable enough that you could stay in it for a while. he guided your arms behind your back, wrapped your forearms together, then started the intricate pattern across your upper back and chest that locked everything in place. every new pass of rope made you feel smaller, more contained, more his.

he checked in constantly.

“still green?”

“wiggle your fingers for me.”

“tell me if anything goes numb or tingles wrong.”

between sections he kissed you—your mouth, your throat, the tops of your breasts where the rope framed them. by the time he finished the final knot at the small of your back, you were trembling, cunt throbbing, so turned on it almost hurt.

yuma sat back and looked at his work.

you couldn’t move your arms at all. the chest harness made every breath feel more deliberate. your nipples were tight, sensitive from the way the rope pushed everything forward. you felt displayed. owned. perfect.

“color?” he asked, voice rough.

“green,” you managed. “so green it’s embarrassing.”

he laughed, shaky, and leaned down to kiss you again—deeper this time, one hand sliding between your legs to find you soaked.

“good kitty—fuck,” he whispered against your mouth. “you’re dripping already and i haven’t even touched you properly.”

he took his time after that too.

he ate you out while you were bound, slow and thorough, like he had all night. he used his fingers and his tongue until your thighs were shaking around his head and you were begging—actually begging—in a way you hadn’t in months. when he finally pushed inside you, it was with a low groan that sounded like he’d been holding it back for hours.

the sex was intense in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.

with your arms bound you couldn’t touch him, couldn’t pull him closer, couldn’t do anything but take what he gave you. yuma used that. he held the chest harness like a handle, pulling you onto his cock with every thrust. he fucked you deep and steady, angling his hips exactly right, one hand working your clit in tight circles until you came so hard your vision whited out and you sobbed his name.

he followed soon after, burying himself deep, filling you up with a broken moan against your throat.

for a while afterward, there was nothing but breathing and the warm, heavy press of his body against yours.

then he tried to untie you.

it started fine. he loosened the decorative wraps on your chest, kissed the marks they left behind. but when he reached the main knot at the small of your back — the one that held the entire box tie together—his fingers slowed.

“…yuma?”

he tugged once. twice. frowned.

“it’s not—shit. it’s not moving.”

you felt the first real thread of unease curl through the afterglow.

he tried again, gentler, then with more pressure. the rope didn’t give. if anything, it seemed to have cinched tighter from the way you’d been moving and sweating and arching under him.

yuma sat back on his heels, staring at the knot like it had personally betrayed him.

“i don’t understand. i practiced this. i did it exactly the same way on the pillow.”

your shoulders were starting to ache now that the adrenaline was fading. not painful yet, but a deep, warm heaviness that wasn’t comfortable anymore.

“yuma,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “it’s okay. just… try the safety shears if you have to. i don’t mind losing the rope.”

he shook his head, jaw tight. “i don’t want to cut it if i don’t have to. the whole point was to be able to untie you properly.” he tried again, fingers working carefully at the trapped tail of the knot. nothing. “fuck. i think it pulled in on itself when you came. the tension’s all wrong.”

he worked at it for another ten minutes, growing more frustrated with every failed attempt. you could feel the shift in the room — the post-sex haze turning into something tighter, more anxious. your arms were definitely starting to protest now. not emergency-level, but enough that you were acutely aware of how immobile you still were.

yuma finally sat back, breathing hard, and reached for his phone on the nightstand.

“i’m calling nicholas.”

you blinked. “nicholas? why?”

yuma was already scrolling, ears red. “because he’s done this before. not with me, of course—with other people. remember that night we were all drinking at k’s place and he started talking about that ex who was really into rope? he said he learned how to tie and untie properly so he wouldn’t fuck it up. and he’s… he’s good in situations like this. calm. i trust him.”

he looked at you, phone already ringing.

“only if you’re okay with it. i can keep trying, or i can cut it right now. your call.”

you hesitated for half a second — the idea of nicholas seeing you like this, naked and bound and messy with yuma’s cum still leaking out of you, sent a confusing rush of heat through your already sensitive body—then nodded.

“okay,” you said quietly. “call him.”

nicholas arrived twenty minutes later.

he knocked once, let himself in when yuma called out, and stepped into the bedroom with his usual easy posture—hoodie, sweats, hair still damp from a shower like he’d come straight over. his eyes flicked over the scene once, quick and assessing: you on the bed, still mostly tied, flushed and marked, yuma sitting beside you looking stressed and guilty.

he didn’t laugh. didn’t make a joke right away.

he just closed the door behind him and said, “hey. you okay?”

the question was directed at you.

you swallowed. “yeah. arms are getting sore but circulation’s fine. just… stuck.”

nicholas nodded, then looked at yuma. “you tried the usual release?”

“everything,” yuma said, rubbing his face. “i think i pulled it too tight during… y’know.”

nicholas’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t comment. he moved to the side of the bed, crouched down so he was level with your back, and gently touched the stuck knot with two fingers. his hands were warm. steady.

“yeah,” he said after a moment. “it’s seized. sweat and movement’ll do that, especially if the tail got trapped. i can work it out, but it’s gonna take time and i’ll have to be careful. cutting’s always an option if you want out fast.”

he glanced at yuma, then back at you.

“i’m happy to help. no judgment, seriously. but i’m not gonna lie—walking in here and seeing you like this…” his voice dropped a little, teasing but not cruel. “it’s doing things to my brain. so if i’m gonna sit here and work on this knot for the next twenty minutes, i need to know what the vibe is. because i can be very professional about this. or…” he let the sentence hang. “i can be helpful in other ways too. if that’s something you’re both open to.”

the room went very quiet.

yuma’s hand found yours—or tried to, since your arms were still bound. his fingers brushed your hip instead.

“baby?” he asked softly. “what do you want?”

you looked at nicholas—calm, patient, giving you every out in the world—and then at yuma, whose ears were burning red but whose cock was already half-hard again against his thigh.

the slow burn that had been building all week, all month, all the quiet frustration you’d both been feeling, suddenly had somewhere to go.

you took a shaky breath.

“um…i want…” your voice came out smaller than you meant it to. “i want you to help with the knot. and i want… whatever else happens while you do it. if yuma’s okay with it.”

yuma’s exhale was shaky, but when he spoke, his voice was steady.

“i’m okay with it,” he said. “more than okay. i’ve been thinking about it since i called him, honestly. seeing you like this… with someone else looking at you…” he swallowed. “it’s doing something to me i didn’t expect. so if you want this—if you want him to touch you while he gets you out—i’m in. i’ll be right here the whole time.”

nicholas’s smile was small and warm and a little dangerous.

“alright,” he said quietly. “then let’s take our time.”

he started with the parts of the harness that weren’t stuck—loosening the chest wraps first, working slowly, deliberately. every time a strand of rope came free he ran his fingers over the marks it left behind, soothing the skin. his touch was confident in a way yuma’s had been careful. different. new.

“you did good work,” he told yuma without looking up. “the harness is clean. it’s just this one knot that’s being a bitch.”

yuma didn’t answer. he was watching nicholas’s hands on you like he couldn’t look away.

nicholas kept talking as he worked—low, conversational, but the words started to shift.

“bet you felt real pretty while he was tying you,” he murmured, fingers brushing the side of your breast as he loosened another wrap. “all wrapped up and helpless. yuma’s got good taste.”

you shivered.

he noticed.

his hand paused, then deliberately stroked down your side, over the curve of your waist, down to your hip. not quite between your legs yet. just… close.

“you use the color system?” he asked, fingers lingering on the inner of your thigh.

you nodded.

“good to know, ”nicholas said, voice low and approving. “i’ll keep going slow, though. i’m still gonna work on this knot, but i’m not gonna pretend my hands are only here for the rope anymore.”

his fingers finally moved higher.

he didn’t rush. while his left hand stayed busy loosening the last stubborn sections of the chest harness, his right hand slid fully between your thighs. two fingers dragged slowly through your folds, gathering the mess yuma had left inside you earlier and spreading it up over your clit in one long, deliberate stroke.

you gasped. your hips twitched up before you could stop them.

nicholas made a quiet, pleased sound.

“still so wet,” he murmured. “even after everything. yuma really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

yuma hadn’t moved from his spot on the edge of the bed. his hand was wrapped around his cock again, stroking slow and tight, eyes locked on nicholas’s fingers as they circled your clit with lazy, confident pressure. his breathing had gone shallow. every time nicholas touched you, yuma’s hand moved a little faster.

nicholas kept talking as he worked—low, conversational, almost gentle even as his words turned filthy.

“bet you felt so pretty while he was tying you up,” he said again, softer this time. “all wrapped up and helpless. couldn’t do anything but take what he gave you. and now look at you.” his fingers dipped lower, pressing two inside you without warning. the stretch made your back arch. 

“still letting someone else touch you while you’re stuck. such a good girl.”

you whimpered. the remaining ropes dug into your flesh as your body tried to move on instinct.

nicholas’s fingers curled inside you, slow and deep, finding that gummy spot that made your thighs shake. his thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing tight little circles that had you seeing stars almost immediately. he was still loosening rope with his other hand, like this was the most normal thing in the world—like fingering you while he untied you was just another part of helping.

“color?” he asked again, voice steady even as he pushed his fingers deeper.

“mmph—gre-green.” you managed, voice cracking.

“good.” he rewarded you by adding a third finger, stretching you open while he worked at a particularly stubborn loop behind your back. “you’re taking me so well. yuma, your girl’s greedy. she’s squeezing my fingers like she wants more already.”

yuma’s voice was rough when he finally spoke.

“bet she does,” he said quietly. “she’s been like this all week. every time i texted her about the rope she’d send me these desperate little replies. i think she’s been waiting for something like this. fuckin’ needy kitty”

nicholas hummed, pleased, and leaned down to press a kiss to your inner thigh — soft, almost sweet—before he pulled his fingers out. he wiped them slowly on your skin, then shifted up the bed so he was kneeling beside your head.

he didn’t ask this time. he just tugged his sweatpants and boxers down in one smooth motion, then tapped the head of his heavy cock against your lips.

“open.”

you did.

he fed his cock into your mouth slowly, letting you feel the weight of it on your tongue. one hand braced on the headboard, the other still occasionally tugging at the rope behind your back. he didn’t thrust hard at first—just shallow, controlled movements that let you adjust. spit gathered at the corners of your mouth and dripped down your chin. he didn’t wipe it away. he let it make a mess.

yuma moved closer without being asked. he sat right beside your head, one hand stroking your hair, the other still working his own cock. every time nicholas pushed deeper into your throat, yuma’s fingers tightened in your hair—not pushing, just holding. grounding you.

“fuck,” yuma whispered. “you look so good like this. taking him so deep while you’re still half-tied up.”

nicholas groaned low in his chest, hips rolling forward a little more. his free hand slid down to your chest, fingers tracing the remaining ropes that framed your tits—pinching at your already sensitive nipples. 

you whined around his cock, causing him to buck slightly into the warmth of your mouth.

“she’s good at this,” he said, voice rougher now. “mouth feels like heaven. you’ve been keeping this all to yourself, yuma? selfish.”

yuma didn’t argue. he just smirked, eyes dark, hand moving faster on his cock.

nicholas pulled out of your mouth after a few minutes, cock shiny and wet. he wiped the head across your lower lip, smearing spit, then shifted back down between your thighs. he dragged his cock through your folds once, twice—slow, teasing.

“is this okay—?”

nicholas’s voice was low, rough around the edges, but steady. he was holding himself right there, the thick head of his cock nudging against your entrance, not pushing in yet. one hand braced on the bed beside your hip, the other still loosely tangled in the remaining rope at your back. his eyes flicked up to your face, then over to yuma, giving both of you the space to answer.

you nodded, voice small but clear. “green. it’s okay. i want it.”

yuma’s hand tightened in your hair for a second before he answered too, voice hoarse.

“yeah. it’s okay. just… don’t cum inside her.” his ears were burning red, but his cock twitched visibly in his fist. “i want to watch you use her. but i also don’t want my girlfriend pregnant with my best friends baby so… pull out just to be safe.”

nicholas’s mouth curved into that small, dangerous smirk again.

“got it.”

he pushed in.

slow. the stretch was deeper than his fingers had been, thicker, and you felt every inch as he sank into you. the remaining ropes creaked as your body tried to arch. nicholas stayed buried to the hilt for a long moment, letting you feel every inch while he finally worked the last of the main knot free. when it gave, he didn’t untie you completely. he just loosened the box tie enough that your arms had a little more room, then started to move.

“fuck,” he breathed. “so warm. so fucking tight even after yuma used you.”

long, deep strokes that rocked you up the bed. one hand on your hip, the other sliding up to fist gently in your hair, pulling your head back so he could watch your face while he fucked you. the remaining ropes creaked with every thrust. your chest harness stayed on, framing everything, making every breath feel tighter.

yuma leaned in and kissed you—messy, open-mouthed, swallowing your moans while nicholas fucked you harder. his hand found your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple where the rope pushed it forward.

nicholas’s pace stayed steady, controlled, even as he reached down to rub your clit with his thumb in tight, relentless circles.

“gonna come again,” he said, not a question. “i can feel it. you’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

you came with a broken sob, thighs shaking, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the intensity. the overstimulation hit hard — too much, too soon after everything — but nicholas didn’t stop. he fucked you through it, pace never faltering, thumb still working your clit until you were crying from how good it felt and how much it was.

yuma kissed the tears off your cheeks, murmuring praise against your skin the whole time.

“look at you,” yuma rasped, voice low. “taking him so well while you’re still half-tied. my good kitty.”

nicholas made a pleased sound at the nickname and rewarded you by picking up the pace just a little. his hand left your thigh and slid up to your chest, fingers tracing the rope before he pinched one of your nipples, rolling it between his fingers until you whined around a moan.

“she likes that,” nicholas said, almost conversational, like he was giving yuma a tip. “gets tighter around me every time i play with her tits.”

he kept fucking you like that for a while—deep, steady, letting the pleasure build slow and thick in your stomach. his free hand eventually drifted down between your legs again, thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight, relentless circles that had your thighs shaking in minutes.

the overstimulation was creeping in fast. you’d already come twice tonight; your body was sensitive, oversensitive, but nicholas didn’t let up. he kept the pressure on your clit steady while he fucked you harder, the wet sound of it filling the room alongside your broken little noises.

“too much?” he asked, voice still low but teasing now. “or are you gonna be a good girl and come on my cock like you’re supposed to?”

you couldn’t answer with words. you just nodded frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from how intense it felt.

nicholas’s hand in your hair tightened—not yuma’s gentle hold anymore, but a firm grip that pulled your head back so he could see your face while he fucked you.

“use your words, kitty.”

“g-green,” you gasped. “please— please don’t stop—”

“good girl.”

he fucked you harder after that.

the pace turned rougher, deeper, the headboard knocking softly against the wall. every thrust jolted you up the bed. the remaining ropes dug into your skin in the best way, a constant reminder that you were still bound, still helpless, still at their mercy. nicholas’s thumb never left your clit. he rubbed it in tight, fast circles that had you shaking, babbling, tears slipping down your temples.

yuma leaned down and kissed you through it—messy, open-mouthed, swallowing your moans while his hand worked his cock faster. every time you clenched around nicholas, yuma groaned like he could feel it too.

he pulled back, lips pink and a line of spit still connecting your mouths until he spoke.

“want me in your mouth, baby?”

yuma’s voice was low, rough with how turned on he was. he was still stroking himself, eyes flicking between your face and where nicholas was buried inside you. his hand in your hair was gentle, but there was a new tension in it—like he was holding himself back from just taking.

you nodded, voice hoarse. “yes. please.”

nicholas made a low, approving sound and slowed his thrusts just enough to let yuma move. he kept one hand on your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles that made your whole body twitch, while the other stayed fisted in the remaining rope at your back.

yuma shifted up the bed, kneeling beside your head. he tapped the head of his cock against your lips, smearing pre-cum across them.

“open up for me, kitty.”

you did.

he slid into your mouth with a shaky exhale, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other stayed tangled in your hair. he didn’t thrust hard at first — just rocked forward in shallow movements, letting you adjust, letting you taste him while nicholas kept fucking you from below.

the dual sensation was overwhelming.

nicholas’s cock hitting deep with every roll of his hips, his thumb never leaving your clit. yuma’s cock heavy on your tongue, stretching your mouth, the hand in your hair tightening every time you moaned around him. the remaining ropes creaked and dug into your skin with every movement, a constant reminder that you were still bound, still at their mercy.

“fuck,” yuma groaned, hips stuttering. “your mouth feels so good. look at you—taking both of us like this. my good, needy kitty.”

nicholas’s pace picked up again, rougher now. the wet sound of him fucking you filled the room alongside the obscene, slick noises of you sucking yuma’s cock. every time nicholas thrust in hard, it pushed you forward onto yuma’s cock, making you take him deeper.

nicholas’s free hand slid up to your chest, fingers tracing the rope before he pinched your nipple again, rolling it between his fingers.

“she’s squeezing me so fucking tight,” he said, voice strained. “every time you pull her hair she clenches around me. you feel that, yuma?”

yuma’s hand tightened in your hair on purpose, pulling just enough to make your scalp tingle. you whined around his cock and nicholas groaned at the way your cunt fluttered around him.

“yeah,” nicholas rasped. “just like that.”

he leaned down and spat on your clit—hot and filthy—then rubbed it in with his thumb, mixing it with your slick and the reminisce of yuma’s release. the extra wetness made everything more intense. you were shaking now, thighs trembling, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as the overstimulation built and built.

yuma noticed. he wiped one of your tears with his thumb, voice softer even as he kept fucking your mouth.

“you’re doing so good, baby. taking us so well. you can come again, can’t you? be our good girl.”

nicholas’s thumb pressed harder on your clit, circling faster.

“come on, kitty,” he coaxed, voice low and rough. “come on my cock while your boyfriend fucks your throat. wanna feel you fall apart.”

nicholas’s thumb pressed harder on your clit, circling faster, relentless.

the pressure built fast—too fast. your body was already oversensitive, trembling, tears slipping down your temples from how intense everything felt. nicholas’s cock kept hitting that deep, perfect spot with every thrust. yuma’s hand tightened in your hair, pulling just enough to make your scalp burn in the best way while he fucked your mouth in shallow, controlled strokes.

you came hard.

it hit like a wave crashing over you. your whole body locked up, thighs shaking violently as the orgasm ripped through you. a broken, muffled sob escaped around yuma’s cock as your cunt clenched down hard around nicholas—and then you squirted.

hot, wet release gushed out around nicholas’s cock, soaking his hips, the sheets, and the remaining ropes. your vision whited out for a second. your body convulsed, another smaller spurt following the first as nicholas kept rubbing your clit through it, fucking you through the intense, overwhelming orgasm.

“fuuuck— there she is,” nicholas groaned, voice strained. “good fucking girl. look at you squirting all over me.”

yuma pulled out of your mouth just in time to watch, eyes wide and dark with awe.

“holy shit, baby…” he rasped. “you’re so fucking pretty.”

nicholas didn’t stop moving right away. he fucked you through the aftershocks, slower now but still deep, letting you ride out every twitch and pulse. only when your body finally started to go limp did he carefully pull out, his cock shiny and wet with your release.

he stroked himself fast, eyes locked on the mess between your legs and the way you were still trembling.

“shit—gonna come—” he warned, voice tight.

he came with a low, rough groan, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach, your chest, and the black ropes still framing your tits. he kept stroking through it, marking you while you were still shaking and teary from your orgasm.

yuma was right there beside your head, breathing hard. the sight of you squirting, crying, covered in nicholas’s cum seemed to push him over the edge too.

“fuck—can i come on your face, baby?” he asked, voice wrecked. “or in your mouth?”

you nodded weakly, still floaty. “mouth… please.”

yuma shifted forward again, tapping his cock against your lips. you opened for him without hesitation. he slid back in with a shaky moan and only lasted a few more shallow thrusts before he was coming too—hot and thick on your tongue. he pulled back just enough at the end so some of it spilled onto your lips and chin, marking you there as well.

for a long moment, the only sounds in the room were heavy breathing and the quiet creak of the remaining rope as your body slowly relaxed.

nicholas moved first, gentle again.

he carefully worked the last of the box tie free, massaging life back into your arms with steady hands. he checked your circulation, pressed soft kisses to every deep red mark the rope had left. yuma helped too—stepping away only for a second to blow out the candles, grab a warm wet cloth to wipe you clean, bringing water, pressing kisses to your wrists, your forehead, the center of your chest.

when you were finally completely free, they both helped you sit up slowly. nicholas supported your back while yuma made sure you drank. nicholas was the first to speak, voice quiet and a little rough.

“you good?”

you nodded, still floaty and sated. “yeah… really good. that was… intense.”

nicholas stayed long enough to make sure you were steady, long enough to ruffle yuma’s hair on the way out and say, casual as anything.

“soooo—same time, next week…? i’ve got ideas.”

yuma let out a quiet, breathless laugh, ears still pink as he waved him off.

“get out of here, man.”

the door clicked shut behind nicholas, and the apartment suddenly felt much quieter. just the low hum of the city outside the window and the soft sound of both of you breathing.

yuma turned back to you immediately.

he helped you sit up properly, then pulled you gently into his lap so your back was against his chest. his arms wrapped around you, warm and solid, one hand stroking slow circles over your stomach while the other rested over your heart. he pressed a long, soft kiss to the side of your shoulder, right over one of the faint rope marks.

“you okay?” he asked quietly, voice still a little rough. “really okay? that got… intense at the end.”

you nodded, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. your body still felt loose and heavy, pleasantly sore in all the right places. the marks from the ropes were already starting to bloom across your skin—faint red lines across your chest and arms that would probably darken by morning.

“i’m good,” you murmured. “really good. it was a lot, but… in the best way. i liked it. all of it.”

yuma let out a slow breath against your skin, like he’d been holding it in.

“yeah?” he asked, a little shy. “even the… watching part? me letting him touch you like that?”

you turned your head enough to look at him. his cheeks were still flushed, but his eyes were soft and open.

“especially that part,” you said honestly. “seeing how turned on you got… hearing you call me your good kitty while he was fucking me… it did something to me.” you reached up and touched his cheek. “and the way you were still so gentle with me the whole time. it made me feel safe. even when i was completely helpless.”

yuma’s arms tightened around you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck for a second, breathing you in.

“i didn’t know i’d like it that much,” he admitted, voice muffled against your skin. “watching him use you. seeing you fall apart like that. and then getting to be part of it too…” he pulled back just enough to look at you again, eyes warm. “it felt really good. like… i got to share something with you and still have you at the end. i liked taking care of you after. both of us taking care of you.”

you smiled, soft and a little sleepy.

“i liked that too,” you said. “all of it. the ropes. the way you two worked together. the way you looked at me the whole time.” you paused, then added quietly, “and i really liked squirting like that in front of both of you. felt… filthy. in a good way.”

yuma groaned softly, hiding his face in your shoulder again.

“don’t say that right now or i’m gonna get hard again,” he muttered, but you could feel him smiling against your skin.

you laughed, quiet and content.

the two of you stayed like that for a while—just breathing together, yuma’s hands slowly stroking over your arms and sides, checking the rope marks, pressing kisses to every one he found. eventually he helped you to the bathroom, ran a warm bath, and got in with you. he washed your hair gently, massaged your shoulders, and made sure every trace of cum and sweat was gone. you leaned back against his chest in the water, eyes half-closed, while he murmured soft praise against your temple.

“my good girl,” he whispered. “my brave, perfect kitty. thank you for trusting me with that. for trusting both of us.”

after the bath he dried you off carefully, rubbed lotion into the faint rope burns, and dressed you in one of his big soft t-shirts. he changed the sheets while you sat on the edge of the bed sipping water, then pulled you under the covers with him.

you curled into his chest, one leg thrown over his hip, his arms wrapped securely around you. the city lights glowed faintly through the curtains. everything felt warm and quiet and safe again.

yuma kissed the top of your head.

“next week…” he said after a moment, voice low and thoughtful. “if you still want to… i think i’d like to try again. maybe let nicholas tie you this time. or maybe just the two of us first, so i can practice more.” he paused. “or both. whatever you want.”

you smiled against his chest, already half-asleep.

“whatever we want,” you corrected softly. “we are in this together.”

yuma’s arms tightened around you one last time.

“always. together,” he agreed.

he held you close as you drifted off—marked, loved, and already dreaming about ropes, soft hands, and the loud, sweet and steady boy who had started it all.

𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗲ㅤ © ㅤ ( 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱 — 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘇𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗔𝗜.​ ㅤ ❤︎ㅤ 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 . )

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: nekoz debut on my blog ~ ! i love this duo so im so surprised this is my first time writing them hehe i actually got this idea whilst chatting with my sweet wife @jyuugoyasmine n jus had to make it a reality bc this plot was too good to pass up on so this is lowk for her hehe (˶ ´༥` ˶) i hope u all enjoy this ~~ pls lmk ur thoughts n opinions ! i loveeee when u guys interact w me (˶˃ ᗜ ˂˶)

[nicoholic]

SOMETHING NEW. ( NICHOLAS WANG )

in which you and your best friend of many years start dating, causing awkward tension between the two of you due to the new title.

❝ ( アンドチーム ) . nicholas wang x fem!reader | 1,269 words. | fluff, new relationship, kissing, skinship, boyfriend!nico

you and nicholas had been best friends for as long as you could remember.

he knew all your weird habits, your laugh, the way you’d crinkle your nose when you were concentrating.

every embarrassing moment of your life had happened with him either cheering you on or laughing at you afterward.

but now, things were drastically different—things had changed in a way that made it feel like you were meeting him all over again, only this time with a fluttering in your chest that hadn’t been there before.

the two of you had crossed that invisible line between friendship and something more, and it was all so weirdly new.

the kind of new that made your heart race whenever he looked at you a second longer than usual, or when his fingers brushed yours by accident.

the kind of new that made you forget how to act around him.

it was silly, really, considering this was nicholas—he’d seen you at your messiest, your silliest, your most real self—and yet now, with every little thing between you feeling heightened, it was like you were on some sort of invisible tightrope.

tonight was the perfect example. you were at his apartment, a familiar place where you’d spent countless nights before.

it was supposed to be like old times—the two of you curled up on the couch, some random movie on in the background, a bowl of popcorn between you. just two friends enjoying a movie night together.

but instead, both of you were sitting a little too far apart.

the popcorn bowl was nearly empty, but neither of you dared to reach for the last few pieces.

the silence was comfortable but tinged with this somewhat strange awareness.

your knees were close enough to touch if either of you shifted just slightly, and you found yourself too aware of every time he glanced over at you.

you caught his eye once, and for a second, his gaze softened, his lips curving into a gentle smile that made your heart flutter.

but then he quickly looked away, clearing his throat, and you did the same, focusing on some random scene in the movie you weren’t even paying attention to.

the tension in the air was thick, and you could almost laugh at how strange it felt—this was nicholas, your best friend, and here you were, both acting like it was your first time in a relationship.

eventually, the movie ended, leaving you both in a silence that felt louder than anything else.

nicholas reached over to grab the remote, his hand brushing yours, and you felt a warmth rush to your cheeks at the simple touch.

he paused, his fingers lingering against yours for just a second too long before pulling back.

“you know,” he said softly, his voice barely breaking the quiet, “it’s weird, isn’t it?”

you turned to look at him, your heart pounding. “what is?”

“this,” he murmured, gesturing between the two of you. “being… like this. with you.”

you smiled, feeling your nerves settle just a little.

“yeah. i guess it is a little weird.” you glanced down, finding comfort in the way his fingers still rested on the couch cushion near yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin. “but it’s nice, too.”

he nodded, his gaze still on you. “i just… i never thought we’d end up here. i mean, we’ve always been close, but now…” he trailed off, looking away, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink.

you’d seen him blush before, but this was different. he looked almost vulnerable, like he was trying to piece together something he didn’t quite know how to say.

“yeah,” you whispered, not trusting yourself to say much more.

your voice felt too loud in the silence of the room, and you almost wanted to pull back, to crack a joke and bring things back to normal.

but there was something in the way he was looking at you that made you stay right where you were, letting the moment stretch out between you.

and then, slowly, like he was testing the waters, nicholas leaned a little closer.

his eyes searched yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and steady, mixing with yours in the small space between you.

your heart pounded, your own breath coming shallow, and you saw his gaze flicker down to your lips for just a fraction of a second before he looked back into your eyes, as if asking a silent question.

you nodded, feeling an excitement and nervousness swirling inside you, making your hands tremble a little as you reached up, touching his cheek.

his skin was warm beneath your fingertips, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he opened them again, the warmth in his gaze sending a shiver down your spine.

he tilted his head, bringing his face closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

your heart was beating so fast you could feel it in your throat, and you closed your eyes, waiting, feeling the anticipation build until you were sure you’d burst from it.

and then—he stopped. you opened your eyes to find him looking at you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, and he let out a quiet laugh.

“what?” you asked, confusion flickering in your mind as you tried to ignore the way your cheeks burned.

“just… i can’t believe i’m about to kiss you, and all i can think about is that time you had that horrendous garlic breath during your first kiss,” he said, his grin widening as he tried to stifle a laugh.

your mouth dropped open, a mix of embarrassment and amusement bubbling up in you. “nicholas! why would you bring that up now?”

he laughed, a deep, warm sound that filled the room and eased the tension that had been building all night. “i can’t help it. you told me about it right after it happened, and i just… i guess it’s something i’ll never be able to forget.”

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “you’re actually the worst, you know that?”

nicholas gently pulled your hands away, his laughter fading into a soft, affectionate smile.

“i’m just saying, if i kiss you, i want it to be better than that,” he teased, his voice low and warm.

your heart softened, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “well, lucky for you, i didn’t eat any garlic today.”

“good,” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower as his fingers brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

this time, he didn’t hesitate—his lips found yours in a kiss that was slow and gentle, each second drawing you closer as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

when you finally pulled away, the two of you stayed close, your foreheads touching, a quiet giddiness settling over you.

“guess it’s not that awkward anymore,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he held you close.

you laughed, feeling like everything had finally fallen into place.

the two of you spent the rest of the night cuddled up on the couch, teasing each other about old memories, talking softly about things only the two of you knew.

only now, every touch, every smile, felt a little warmer, a little more special.

[drkbl00d]

⧼ʀɪꜱᴋʏ ʙᴜꜱɪɴᴇꜱꜱ ⧽ ─── 王奕翔

a little quicky on set never hurt nobody.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: 𝔀ang 𝔂ixiang x 𝓯!reader

(2.1k words) smut, established relationship, public teasing, fingering, messy oral (fem receiving), spitting, semi-public sex, teasing, not proofread petnames: little minx, baby, brat, princess, pretty ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ

ʟɪɴ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: this FUCKASS photoshoot had me foaming at the mouth i need him on a leash help me. also yay first teamies fic :3

be a supportive girlfriend they said, show up to the shooting they said. 

what they didn’t say was that you will lose your sanity, gripping your seat so tightly at the view in front of you. your boyfriends bare chest was on full display for not only you, but the entire crew. but it was only you he had this intense effect on. it’s not like you haven’t seem him shirtless before, you two had been fucking like rabbits just last night but there’s something about him like this. sitting on the floor, head tilted upwards as the makeup artists messily writes on his neck.

it had been a hassle this morning for the poor women in charge of his styling today. he had told you to be careful with the marks and bites on his upper body today, but what were you supposed to do? as if you can let him put you in every unholy position there is without leaving him with some gifts for the future.

“awww shit,” you had heard him sigh from the bathroom while you were still in the post sleep haze. his footsteps approaching you turned, one eye opening, just to be faced with…quite the sight. hand on his hip, he pointed with the other at his neck where swirls of red and purple adorned his neck. 

you giggle. “you missed some.” his brows furrow and follow your eyes that focus suspiciously close to bottom of his boxers. a small spot of purple peaked out beneath the black fabric and with a tug upwards he revealed another constellation of bruises. 

“fucking little minx,” he mumbled with a grin as he lunges forwards. you squeal, trying to seek shelter under the pillows but he’s faster. his legs position themselves next to your waist as his hands push away the pillows. big hands cup your face as he presses his lips on yours.

“told you no marks, baby” he mumbled, but you could tell he wasn’t really mad at you. 

“well, actually”, you breathed between kisses. “you said no scratches, i followed orders.” this earned you a slight slap of your thighs through the plush covers. 

“you’re such a brat, you’re lucky i need to get out soon.” 

before he managed to get up again you wrapped your arms around his bare torso, fingers slightly digging into his skin. 

“baby i really gotta go,” he coos at your pouty lips and sleep filled eyes. “come visit me later, hm? get ready at your own pace and come watch.” 

you nod and his hand finds your cheek again, this time softly stroking it. but you wouldn’t let him have his peace this easily, teeth snapping at his hand. he managed to pull away just in time and laughed, leaning down one last time to give you a short kiss. “brat.”

and now you found yourself sitting here, in the corner of the dressing room, legs pressed together as you try to keep yourself from panting at the sight of him. nicho noticed your squirming around, brow raising in confusion before realisation hit. he muttered a few words to the stylist and started making his way over, crouching in front of you.

“you good baby?” he teased – of course he knew the effect he had on you. you shoved his shoulder with faux annoyance and he took your hand, pressing a kiss to it. “we had our fun last night and you’re already all riled up again?”

the room was filled with people yet he still spoke with such casualty that you couldn’t help but blush at his bluntness. his empty hand finds your knee, slowly tapping against it before slowly inching up your thigh.

“nicho,” you hiss with wide eyes, looking around the room with panic.

“thought you wanted my attention?” he questioned with a cocky laugh. 

“yea but…not in front of everyone.”

“well in that case,” he started, fingers tracing mindless shapes on your legs “how about we catch some fresh air before the need me again, hm?”

it was embarrassing how quickly you frantically started nodding, chest heaving with anticipation. and before you knew it he had you pressed against the wall of the hidden room in the back of the hall. 

his hands were all over you, your waist, your neck, your ass, your hip – he was everywhere and it drove you crazy. hot open mouthed kisses were placed on your neck as it lolled to the side for better access. you were just about to tangle your fingers in his hair as he tutted out a soft “no touching baby, can’t have you mess up what everyone spent working on.” 

you whine, partly because of his instructions, partly because of the sensation of his tongue and teeth grazing the delicate skin of your neck. 

“‘s unfair nicho.”

he chuckled, giving the freshly formed love bite a quick lick. “well i do have to punish you a tiny little bit because of last night princess.” 

at an excruciating slow pace his fingers dragged themselves down your neck, stopping at the swell of your chest before cupping them with one firm motion. you gasp, a small high pitched noise escaping your mouth, soon replaced by a full on groan as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and index finger. 

“please,” you plead, eyes shut in pleasure. 

if there’s one thing that nicho loves about you, is that you ask him so fucking sweetly when you get all needy for him. how can he say no to you?

with practiced ease he unbuttons your jeans, the fabric gathering around your ankles. to your surprise he doesn’t tease the wet spot on your panties, but yanks them down your thighs. 

his fingers move over your slick folds, wasting no time dip not one, but two fingers in. you gasp at the sudden fullness, clenching around him. 

“relax, baby. need you to loosen up so you feel good.”

skilled fingers plunge in and out of you, curling just the right way to hit the gummy spot inside of you. his lips suck away at your chest, pretty red spots forming all over your tits. 

you’ve had him eat you out before, many times, but never not at home. this was risky and you both felt it, his ego loving the thrill of someone catching the two of you like this.

“nicholas?” a knock on the door. 

you froze and his hand covered your mouth, urging you to be silent.

“you guys okay?”

he cleared his throat, “yea, y/n’s just been feeling a little dizzy today. give me a few minutes, she’s feeling much better already.” 

with that he plunged a third finger into your leaking hole, causing you to abruptly jerk forward, falling into his chest. 

“no worries man, let us know if you need anything.”

nicho doesn’t wait for the footsteps the quiet down, mouth closing around your covered nipple, biting down on the sensitive bud. 

“oh god,” you choke out and he drops to his knees. his fingers continuing to plunge in and out of you with calculated speed. he wastes no time slurping away at the liquid that messily spilled out of you. 

obscene sounds echo off the walls and if you hadn’t been so fucked out you would worry that you could be heard all the way down the hallway.

his lips closed around your clit, sucking at the sensitive bud and you squirm. “hold fucking still baby,” he mumbles into you pussy, tongue darting out to kitten lick the delicate bundle of nerves. 

he sucks and swirls his tongue around, fingers continuing to abuse your gummy walls and you feel like you’ll pass out any second. you didn’t even notice until a sob escaped you that tears were streaming down your face at the immense pleasure you felt. 

“feels that good hm? taste like fucking heaven too, pretty.” nicho pulls away for a second, halting his motions and you whine. “let me admire you baby,” he answers, before spitting into your already gushing pussy, earning a gasp from you. 

your juices are dripping down his chin, but he couldn’t care less as he practically makes out with your pussy. his teeth graze your faults, breath fanning over the wet flesh before his mouth slurps at your leaking hole. it’s pornographic how he hums, moving his head from side to side as he devours you. 

strained moans escape your throat, heart hammering against your chest as hot flashes zap through your body. mindlessly, you reach for his head. with a quick slap on the wrist he stops your movement, biting down on your clit in punishment. 

“told you no touching. listen or i’ll stop.”

“‘ve no balance baby,” you gasp out. 

his free hand, the one that wasn’t exploring your insides now dug into your left hip, pressing you flush against the wall. 

“better?"

his voice was barely noticeable, face buried between your legs, refusing to separate from you for even a second. but nicholas wouldn’t be nicholas without starting to grope around. within seconds he started moving his hands backwards, grabbing the flesh of your ass, fingersnails digging into with delicious pain. 

“fucking prettiest thing i’ve ever seen, hm? all gushing for me, making such a mess on my face. better thank the makeup artist later for investing in such a good setting spray baby?” 

the filthiness of his voice make you clench, sucking up the digits inside of you and he groans. 

“feels that good baby?" you only manage a weak nod. 

“come on, pretty,” he urges, “tell me how good my fingers feel.” 

“feels so so good, i love your fingers so much,” you slurred out.

as if you weren’t blissed-out already, he sped up the pace, the sound of squelching embarrassingly loud. your moans grow louder, head dropping toward, low lidded eyes making eye contact with the man on his knees in front of you. 

god he looked good. muscled arms flexing at the overwhelming pace his plunging his fingers inside of you, eyes flipping back and forth between your fucked out face and the wetness running down your thighs. wetness, that’s also glistening on his face, his chin and nose. 

“such a pretty thing you are. so fucking good for me.” 

his praise drives you crazy, body reacting to every single one of his words. and of course he notices. 

“you’re close, hm?”

words have left you long ago, heck you could barely control your body anymore and all you managed to get out was a mix of whines, moans and a strangled sob. 

“i gotta go back, princess. let’s make you cum, yea?”

and just like that his mouth was on your clit again, sucking violently. your knees threatened to buckle and he positioned them one his shoulders, strong hand pinning you back against the wall, head keeping you in place. 

your legs flexed around his head, one hand grabbing onto the nearby closet while the other digs into his shoulder. 

“‘m gonna cum,” your voice barely noticeable over the slurping sounds. 

all it took was one hum of him against your clit and your body locks up. white flashes erupt in your limbs as you feel the wetness flow down your legs. 

nicho happily slurped away at the liquid, satisfied with the unplanned amount spilling out of you. if it had been for him he would’ve stayed this way for another hour, but you pushed weakly at his head, overstimulated clit aching in pain. 

“well that was a first.” he grinned and you blinked. just then you noticed the obscene amount of wetness on the floor. 

your eyes widened, “that was me?!”

“fuck yes that was you pretty,” he beamed at you, eyes filled with pride and adoration. “didn’t even mean to make you squirt but here we are. gotta try that more often, you looked so hot.” 

you blushed, which was hilarious. you were practically sitting on his shoulders, his face directly in front of your pussy and you still blushed.

his hands moved up and down your thighs, softly placing your shaky legs on the floor. carefully, he inspected the skin, giving each and every little mark a soft kiss. 

“you okay, baby?”

you nod, eyes dropping low from exhaustion, your high still lingering. 

“come on,” he mutters as he helped you put your jeans back on. “i gotta go back, we’ll find you a place to rest."

strong arms wrap around you, soft lips peppering kisses on your temple. 

“and besides, i’d appreciate the favour to be returned after i’m done here. i deserve it, don’t you think?”

&ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: (comment or send me an ask to be tagged !)

[lunegenic]

will you do what the first date would be like with the boys?

these are just the vibes i get from their personalities

daytime dates

Nico: the aquarium, buys you whichever plushie you want from the gift shop, finds an excuse to hold your hand asap, a small lunch so you guys can get back to it, if the aquarium has any kind of boat tour you're on it, nico doesn't hesitate to fix your hair after it gets wind blown

Euijoo: botanical gardens, he screams earthy to me and it's a calm and laid back date, definitely includes a stop to a cafe, guides you to link arms with him like he's your escort, buys you something cute bc ofc he does, is blushing when you guys take pics together

nighttime dates

Yudai: a fancy dinner at an upscale restaurant, probably takes you somewhere with a nice view after so you guys can just sit and talk and enjoy each other's company, opens every door for you, puts his coat on you if you get cold

Maki: an arcade, hear me out it just suits him lol, it's loud and chaotic and there's so much to do, if you run out of games then he's taking you to karaoke and serenading you, dinner is pizza or chicken, whoops you've been in each other's arms for 10mins already

[nicholaswangsnudes]

boundaries (one)

brother’sbff!nicholaswang. 1.6k words. suggestive, mdni.

“ah finally.”

you had been waiting all night for this, to finally be alone and able to use the hot tub your parents bought recently. it had been occupied by your older brother, euijoo and his friends for most of the night and although they did invite you to join them, you had declined. 

because not only were you a little shy about being in such little clothing around people but the thought of being in such an intimate setting with a specific someone... got your body more heated than this damn hot tub could ever.

and thankfully with all of them fast asleep upstairs, you made your way out to the back deck, immediately immersing yourself into the hot water.

“so this is where you snuck off to,” a familiar voice instantly has your eyes flinging wide opened, your hands naturally going up to cover your chest, “should’ve invited me.”

and there before you, stood the one person you were all too scared to be left alone with.

nicholas wang. your brother’s best friend.

for a moment there, you forgot how to breath, the man looking as fine as ever in those dangerously short boxer shorts. you were so sure he would’ve been asleep by now with how much he drank throughout the night... so why and how he was standing here, you have no idea.

“ni- nicholas- you’re awake? it’s almost 3am.”

“i was grabbing a drink when i saw you sneak out here,” he chuckles softly, lips quivering very slightly with how cold it currently is. “mind if i join you? can’t sleep.”

you’re so conflicted by his question. half of you is screaming hell yes please, but the other half is saying no thank you because how could you possibly be in a hot tub with the hottest man to exist?

“y- yeah sure.”

damn it!

the very small smirk that appears on his lips is one you don’t miss, the man seemingly making sure your eyes were on him before effortlessly slipping his shirt over his head. you can feel your cheeks heating up at the sight, more so than they already were since his arrival a moment ago.

you silently watch as he slips in, sitting on the opposite side of you but unfortunately directly facing you. you can’t help but gawk at the man's body, at how defined each and every line was. you’ve seen him topless numerous times before but to have it all displayed right in front of your eyes, this closely and to yourself... was just cruel.

“ahhh. this is so much nicer than being in a hot tub with 5 guys.”

gulp.

he really didn’t need to moan like that.

“you alright little one?” he asks abruptly, the cute nickname he had given you one you’ve become accustomed to over time, “you look a little... startled.”

“i- i’m good! just getting used to the hot tub.”

“you know you’re so adorable right?” nicholas says nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just caused your poor heart to explode inside your chest.

it had been almost two years since you’ve met nicholas, the first time being the night euijoo brought his new college friends home. you were in high school then, your innocent mind immediately blown away by the handsome basketball team captain. the man was everything you’ve read in romance novels, everything you’ve seen in teen dramas on tv.

and you’ve crushed on him since.

but never have you dared to cross the boundary, because not only was he your brother’s best friend but this was nicholas wang, the most popular guy on campus. as if he’d even take the slightest interest in you.

but a girl can dream.

“hey,” his voice breaks you out of your deep thoughts, only to realise that he was now making his way over to you. you hold your breath as he settles down beside you, his arm slightly grazing against yours in the bubbling water. it takes almost everything in you not to freak, or to show him how affected you are because of him.

“is- is something wrong?”

“i should ask you that,” he tilts his head slightly as he chuckles, amused at how wide your eyes currently are. “you keep zoning out. something on your mind?”

yeah! like how close you are beside me!

you wanted to scream but thankfully, all you do is shake your head with a reassuring smile. sometimes, even you’re amazed at how you could keep so calm in front of him.

“well,” he leans in just slightly, both his arms now extending out to rest along the edge of the hot tub... and unfortunately right behind your back, “you know you can talk to me. always.”

you could feel his fingers tapping gently on your back and as much as you were trying to justify it as a brotherly kind of thing, your burning insides weren’t agreeing with you one bit.

not when you had literally touched yourself to the thought of him just the night before.

it was something you felt so ashamed about, something you would surely take with you to the grave. but you can’t help it. just look at him!

“i’m okay nico. just... relaxing after a long week of assignments.”

the man is so close to you now, the smell of alcohol and his natural scent freely invading your personal space as if it was his own. if you thought it was cruel to see him topless before well this now was just hell itself.

“come here.”

before you could even react, he had pulled you to sit in front of him, in between his spread legs to be more specific.

the heavens really be testing you tonight and god were you about to crack.

“nico- ahhh...” your words were no longer coherent with how good nicholas’ hands felt on your shoulders, expertly giving your tightened muscles the massage it really needed. for a moment there, everything is forgotten. the situation, the lack of clothing, the closeness between your bodies... the wetness. everything.

“your hands feel amazing.”

“yeah? i’m glad i can help,” his voice is noticeably much lower than usual, the deep tone one your knees embarrassingly buckled to every time. “poor thing, you must’ve been so stressed.”

yeah stressed about you!

“yeah- ahhh...”

“you’re still so tight,” he laughs lowly into your ear, his lips so dangerously close to you now that you could feel his breath against your skin, “relax. come on, it’s just me.”

and now you were fully aware of what was happening again. that you were practically resting on nicholas, your bare back pressing against his bare torso. his hands however, are no longer on your shoulders but are gradually moving down the side of your arms. apart of you is screaming for you to get the hell out of there, knowing you’ll probably do something stupid if you don't.

but you can’t for the life of you, stand up and leave.

“let me help you relax,” his huge hands are now resting on your thighs in the water, his fingers gently kneading your hot skin, “let me take care of you.”

“nico...”

“yeah baby, tell me what you want. you know i’d do anything for you.”

the way the pet name rolled off his tongue so naturally sent a shiver through your body, your legs quickly pressing themselves against each other from it alone. it feels like a fantasy come to life, like one of those sick fantasies you’ve had of him in the privacy of your room.

but it’s now happening to you in real life and you feel more conflicted than ever. you know what the right thing to do is but your body is screaming for you to stay... to find out where this could all go.

the softness of his lips pressing down onto your shoulder is what finally breaks you out of the daze, the one small move enough to make your poor body go into immediate overdrive. it’s so embarrassing how pathetic you really were for him but you don’t care. because in this moment, nicholas’ entire attention is on no one else but you.

“every part of you is so beautiful,” he places another kiss onto your skin as he says so, his voice almost a whisper, “it drives me fucking insane.”

“you’re just being nice to me... because i’m euijoo’s sister.”

“you really think that? even when i’m this hard...” his words are followed by a taunting chuckle and a quick shift in position, with the man now pressed flatly against you... allowing you to feel a particular something better. “can you feel it? it’s because of you baby.”

“nico...” you don’t mean to sound breathy but you do, almost whimpering his name at this point. “we shouldn’t... if euijoo-”

“then we won’t let him find out.”

you turn back slightly, just to have him immediately smash his lips onto yours, kissing you hard and fast like he had been starved for days on end. everything happened so quickly because one minute you’re contemplating whether to run and the next, you’re straddling nicholas’ lap with your arms hooked around his neck to deepen the kiss that never broke from the moment it started.

“n- nicholas-” you weakly attempt to push him back when you feel yourself on the verge of passing out. the heat, the touching, the kissing... nicholas. everything was proving too much for your poor mind to handle.

“yeah baby?”

his hands are like magic on your skin, skilfully kneading at your lower back before finally reaching the very thin lining of your bikini bottoms. he’s so close yet so far from where you’ve always wanted him and the thought alone made you drip more than you already were for him.

for nicholas wang.

“do you want this baby? tell me.”

“yes... more than anything.”

as if you humping his rock hard cock wasn’t enough of a sign that you wanted this.

“you’re going to be the death of me-”

and as if the gods heard him, the kitchen lights suddenly turn on and from a distance, you spot none other than your brother in the window. he’s barely awake, thankfully, while rubbing his eyes.

“shit-” you scramble to get off but nicholas’ hand is still at your waist, refusing to let go. “nicholas! he’s gonna see us!”

he kisses you one more time before reluctantly letting go, a smirk on his lips the entire time while you’re literally freaking the fuck out to get away from the man.

and just as you do, the backdoor opens up and out came your confused brother.

“why are you guys up so late?” euijoo says with a yawn before turning his focus on you, “are you okay?”

you love your brother to death but the man was too smart for his own good. he always knew when something was off with you and with how everything is looking right now, you’re sure euijoo would connect the dots eventually.

so you run.

“yeah just tired,” you fake a yawn and stand up to leave the hot tub, “thanks for the advice nico, i’ll find you if i need anymore help on the assignment.”

euijoo looks back and forth between you and his friend for a second, evidently knowing something’s up but doesn’t say anything. you take the chance to say your goodnights and walk away as fast as possible, knowing damn well that not only was your brother watching you.

but so was nicholas.

the man really was going to the death of you.

to be continued.

2026 © nicholaswangsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

[smidare]

Hi love how are you doing

I love your fics sm and i read them all cuz its SO good

I wanna req downbad nicho ykyk

Love you 🤍

nicholas would do anything for you and he’s not afraid to let that be know—whether that be inside or outside the bedroom~~

down bad!nicholas who melts into the softest smile every time you enter the room, even mid-practice, and the members start teasing him immediately.

down bad!nicholas who learns your favorite milk tea order perfectly and shows up with it after every long schedule, still in his practice clothes, just because he missed you.

down bad!nicholas who sends you voice notes in all four languages (mandarin, english, , japanese, korean) telling you how much he needs you, voice low and raspy after a long day.

down bad!nicholas who wakes up at 5 a.m. after only three hours of sleep just so he can watch you for little bit before schedules—gently brushing your hair out of your face and whispering “how did I get so lucky?” in mandarin against your skin.

down bad!nicholas who forces taki to help him learn how to make your mom’s signature dish from a recipe you mentioned once. practices it at 2 a.m. in the dorm kitchen so he can surprise you next time you visit.

down bad!nicholas who lets you wear any of his clothes or accessories, no matter how expensive they are. he’s obsessed with dressing you up too~

down bad!nicholas who gets butterflies every single time he sees you in his clothes. especially when the sleeves are too long and you have to cuff them, or when his shirt slips off one shoulder. he’ll stop whatever he’s doing just to stare, mumbling in mandarin, “how are you this cute… i can’t handle it.”

down bad!nicholas who gets quiet and intense and a bit pouty when other people flirt with you. he doesn’t get angry per say, he just slides his hand around your waist, pulls you into his side, and rests his chin on your head while staring the person down with a sharp glare. always complains to you later, pouting and whining.

down bad!nicholas who already has future plans locked in his head: which cities you’ll visit together, how he wants to propose, what kind of home he wants to build with you. he’s been thinking about it since month three.

down bad!nicholas who carries your hair tie on his wrist like it’s a bracelet. if you need it he just silently offers his arm like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

down bad!nicholas who hatess when people touch his hair, unless its you of course. he’ll let you wash his hair, even dye in on occasions when his stylist is too busy. but his favorite thing is when you simply run your hands through it—or when you tug at his when he’s lapping at your cunt.

down bad!nicholas who still gets horny when you call him “yixiang” in private. the way his real name slips off your tongue just does something to him (that something is make him so hard it hurts)

down bad!nicholas who becomes the neediest version of himself after long schedules. he’ll crawl into bed, strip you both down, and just bury his face between your legs for ages—not even chasing his own release. he eats you out like he’s starving, licking and sucking until your thighs are shaking around his head, mumbling “one more, baby… just let me taste you one more time.”

down bad!nicholas who loves when you ride him but gets embarrassingly desperate when you go too slow. his hands grip your hips so tight, eyes glassy as he looks up at you. “faster… please, come on baby—i’ll be good, just move a lil faster”,

down bad!nicholas who gets so pussy drunk that his dirty talk turns into rambled in different languages when he’s close. “you’re so wet… 我的妈呀… 靠, you’re squeezing me so good”—the mix of english, mandarin slipping out with that raspy tone makes it ten times hotter.

down bad!nicholas who can go multiple rounds because he physically cannot get enough of you. even after cumming he’s still half-hard, kissing down your body, ready to go again just to hear you moan his name one more time.

down bad!nicholas who prefers domming you, buttt also lets you take control more than people would ever guess. tie his wrists with his own belt? he’s into it. sit on his face until he can barely breathe? he’s gripping your ass and pulling you down harder. he trusts you completely and loves being overwhelmed by you.

down bad!nicholas who cums the hardest when you tell him you’re his. The second you moan “i’m yours, yixiang” he loses it—hips slamming into you, moaning your name like a prayer while he fills you up.

down bad!nicholas who’s obsessed with fucking your throat. he’ll hold your head down, hips twitching as he pushes past your gag reflex, moaning “fuck…your throat feels better than your pussy sometimes.”

down bad!nicholas who gets hard when you’re mad at him. the second you start arguing he’s backing you against the wall, dropping to his knees and eating you out like an apology until you forgive him. “yell at me more, baby… i deserve it.”

down bad!nicholas who overstims himself just to keep fucking you. even when his cock is twitching and oversensitive after the third round, he’s still thrusting slow and deep, whimpering “hurts so good…don’t wanna stop. need to feel you cum on me again.”

down bad!nicholas who, after the filthiest rounds, becomes the softest boy alive. he’ll clean you up with his tongue, while whispering “i love you… i’d die for you. you own me completely.”

down bad!nicholas who literally worships your body afterwards. no matter how tired he is, he makes sure to kiss every mark he left—hickeys, bite marks, fingerprints on your hips—murmuring “sorry if i was too rough…you were so perfect for me.” 

down bad!nicholas who carries you to the bathroom every single time. even if his legs are shaking, he’ll princess-carry you, set you on the counter, and run a warm bath. he gets in with you, pulls your back to his chest, and washes you so tenderly—shampooing your hair, soaping up every inch of you like you’re made of glass.

down bad!nicholas who always checks in the next morning. soft kisses on your forehead, gentle hands tracing any bruises, low voice asking “how are you feeling? was i too much last night?” if you’re sore he’ll spend the whole day pampering you—massages, carrying you around your apartment, cooking for you (ordering take out).

© smidare 2026ㅤ ❤︎ㅤ likes & reposts r appreciated!

[cerezitamour]

ㅤㅤㅤ UNLEASH THE BEAST wang yixiang.

❛ during his rut, nicholas always kept you at distance, afraid of hurting you, his human mate. he just should've known better than that. his female is stubborn, and completely obsessed with him. ❜

( 王奕翔 && fem!reader ) ⋮ 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧 ⋮ tiger hybrid!nicho, rut, knotting, breeding kink, multiple positions + orgasms, squirting, nicho calls you 'his female', nicho just wants his kits, rough sex, under the influence (?) (i mean, he's not in the right state of mind), blonde mullet nicho!!, cunnilingus, blowjob, lactation kink, a lot of drool, this is filthy okay, sorry ⟡ 𝟿.𝟼𝟹𝟻 words !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ( ˶˘ ³˘)♡ reblogs and comments for a cookie!

The relentless buzz of your phone had gone unanswered for hours, each unanswered call twisting the knot in your stomach tighter.

Nicholas, you tiger hybrid boyfriend, was in the grip of his rut again, and he’d shut you out like he always did. Suppressants didn’t work on his kind, at least not yet—tiger hybrids ike him had to ride it raw, instincts raging without chemical mercy. He’d lock himself away in his apartment, convinced that his feral side would snap and hurt you, his fragile human mate. For you, it was bullshit. He had you, his mate, to take care of him in these times, he was just too stubborn. You know he’d never hurt you, but still he didn’t want it.

The idea of him suffering alone, denying you both the comfort of your bond, felt like betrayal, honestly. You were his mate; you needed to be there, to touch him, to ground him through the storm.

And you definitely needed him fucking the shit out of you.

Tired of the silence, you grabbed your keys and stormed out. “If the tiger won’t come to his female, the female goes to her tiger.”

In his apartment, Nicholas had just stepped out of his fifth shower of the day—and it was barely 9 a.m.—the icy blasts doing little to quench the fire raging in his veins. His cock had been hard and throbbing since he woke up at dawn, every pulse a reminder of you—your scent, your soft curves, the way your body fit against his.

He’d gripped the shower wall, teeth gritted, fighting the urge to stroke himself to thoughts of burying deep inside you, claiming you until the rut burned out. But he couldn’t risk it. Not with you, his precious female.

Then it hit him—your scent. Sweet, intoxicating, seeping under the door like a siren’s call.

His nostrils flared, heart slamming against his ribs. His amber eyes threatening to shift to that orange hue. Hallucination, he told himself. The rut playing tricks, conjuring you to torment him further. He shook his head, droplets scattering across the tiled floor, his towel slung low on his hips, barely containing the thick bulge straining against the fabric. Precum had already soaked through once during the shower; now it beaded again at the tip, his body betraying him.

“Nicholas, you better open this damn door.” Your voice cut through, sharp and insistent. “I’m not leaving.”

He growled low in his throat, a rumble that vibrated through his chest, but his hand moved on instinct, twisting the knob. The door swung open and there you stood, eyes wide and determined, all pretty for him. His gaze locked on yours, orange eyes like you’ve never seen before, swirling with barely contained hunger.

“I told you you shouldn’t be here,” he rasped, voice rough like gravel, his broad frame filling the doorway.

Steam from the shower lingered on his skin, tiny rivulets tracing down his toned chet, over the ridges of his abs, disappearing into the towel. His blonde hair damp and tousled, the mullet framing his sharp jawline and those eyes—god they were even prettier—pupils silating as your scent flooded his senses.

You didn’t back down. Instead, you pushed past him, your shoulder brushing his damp arm, sending a jolt straight to his groin. His cock twitched visibly under the towel, the outline thickening as he fought the urge to grab you.

“It’s unfair what you’re doing,” you said, voice trembling with a mix of anger and need as you stepped fully into the apartment, the door clicking shut behind you.

The space was dim, curtains drawn against the morning light, the air thick with his musky arousal—earthy, primal, like the wild heart of the tiger he carried.

“You think I can’t handle this? That I don’t want to be with you through it? We’re mates, Weno. I need you too.” you voice got needier the more you talked.

He backed up a step, hands clenching at his sides, claws itching to extend from his fingertips. “Go home, you stubborn female,” he urged, but his body betrayed him, leaning toward you even as he circled away.

You advanced, determined to close the distance, your eyes raking over him—taking in the water-slicked skin, the way his muscles tensed under the faint stripes of his hybrid markings, faint black stripes down his sides that seemed to darken when his rut peaked.

The towel hung precariously low, the bulge beneath impossible to ignore, his erection pressing insistently against the thin barrier, the head outlined clearly, leaking steadily now.

You reached for him, fingers grazing his arm, but he dodged, pivoting around the edge of the living room sofa like it was a shield in some absurd dance.

“Stay back, female,” he warned, voice dropping to a growl.

His long legs carried him in a wide arc, towel flapped slightly as he moved, the apartment’s coffee table nearly tripping him. You mirrored him, slipping around the other side, your heart pounding with a cocktail of frustration and desire.

“Tiger,” you said in a warning tone, trying to reach him again.

The emotional tension crackled between you, thick as the heat radiating from his body. He was suffering, you could see it in the way his jaw clenched, the sweat beading anew on his brow despite the cold shower.

“Stop running from me,” you pleaded, voice softening as you lunged forward, trying to catch his wrist.

He twisted away, but not before your fingers brushed the warm skin of his hip, inches from where the towel knotted.

A shudder ran through him, his cock jerking hard, a wet spot blooming darker on the fabric. His eyes flashed fully orange now, the golden amber consumed by the rut’s fire, pupils slitting like a predator’s. He panted, chest heaving, the scent of his arousal intensifying, mingling with yours as your own body responded—heat pooling between your thighs, nipples tightening under your shirt.

“I’ll hurt you,” he admitted hoarsely, circling the sofa again, his movements more frantic, like a caged animal pacing. But you didn’t stop, matching his steps, closing in with each pass.

The sofa became your battlefield, a ridiculous loop of pursuit and evasion that belied the raw intimacy building. Every near-miss sent sparks through both of you—your hand skimming his thigh, his breath ghosting your hair as he spun away.

“You don’t get it. The rut… it make me want to pin you down, fuck you until you can’t walk, mark you so deep you bleed my scent, fuck—put my cubs in you.” His words hung heavy, explicit and unfiltered, stoking the fire in your core.

You could see the strain in him, the way his hips shifted unconsciously, seeking friction against the air. “Then do it,” you challenged, voice breathy, finally cornering him against the arm of the sofa. Your body pressed close, breasts brushing his chest, the heat of him searing through your clothes. “I’m not afraid. I’m your mate, your female. Use me however you want, tiger. Put your cubs in me.

He froze, orange eyes boring into yours, the internal war raging across his face. His cock throbbed visibly, tenting the towel to its limit, a bead of precum trickling down the inside of his thigh.

The emotional dam cracked; his hand shot out, not to push you away, but to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. The hard length of him ground into your belly, hot and insistent, as a deep growl rumbled from his throat.

“Fuck… you’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmured, lips crashing down to claim yours in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation, tongues tangling as the rut finally won.

His lips devoured yours with a ferocity that stole your breath, the kiss deepening as his tongue plunged into your mouth, stroking against yours in wet, insistent slides.

Nicholas’ hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, claws pricking your skin through your clothes as he backed you toward the sofa. The towel finally gave way, slipping from his waist to pool at his feet, his thick cock springing free—veins bulging along the shaft, the head flushed in a dark red and slick with precum that dripped in a steady string onto the floor.

He couldn’t care less; all he could focus on was the taste of you, the way your body yielded under his touch.

With a guttural growl vibrating against your lips, he shoved you backward onto the couch, your back hitting the cushions with a soft thud. You bounced slightly, legs splaying open instinctively as he loomed over you, orange eyes blazing with unrestrained hunger.

His hair fell forward, framing his face like a wild mane. Droplets of water—or was it sweat?—trailed down his chest, catching on the faint tiger stripes that rippled across his skin with every heaving breath. His cock bobbed heavily between his thighs, brushing your knee as he knelt down, the heat of it searing even through the fabric of your shorts.

“Gonna taste you first,” he rasped, voice thick and broken, his rut demanding he claim you slowly to keep from losing control too soon.

But even as he said it, his body trembled, the need to bury himself inside your tight heat clawing at his insides.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, but no—instinct took over. His lips curled back, revealing sharp canines as he leaned in, teeth sinking into the fabric right at your hip. With a savage yank, he tore through the material, the sounds of ripping cotton echoing in the room. Your panties followed in one brutal pull, his teeth grazing your skin as he shredded them away, exposing your bare pussy to the cool air of the apartment.

You gasped, the sudden exposure sending a rush of arousal flooding between your folds, your clit already swollen and aching. Nicholas’ eyes locked on your core, nostrils flaring as he inhaled your scent—musky and sweet, driving his tiger instincts wild.

Saliva pooled in his mouth, his jaw working as drool escaped the corners of his lips, dripping onto your inner thigh in warm, messy trails. He didn’t wipe it away; instead, he dove in, his broad shoulders forcing your legs wider apart, knees hooked over his arms to pin you open.

His tongue flattened against your pussy in one long, dragging lick from your entrance to your clit, lapping up the slick arousal that coated your lips. The texture of his tongue—rougher than a human’s, with a faint rasp from his hybrid nature—sent shocks of pleasure ripping through you, making your hips buck up toward his face.

He groaned into you, the vibration humming against your sensitive flesh as he licked again, slower this time, savouring the way your juices mixed with his spit. Drool spilled freely from his mouth now, slicking your thighs and pooling at the base of your ass on the couch cushions, turning the fabric dark and sodden.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered against your folds, words muffled as his lips sealed around your clit and sucked hard, pulling the nub into his mouth with wet, slurping sounds.

His tongue flicked over it rapidly, circling the swollen peak while his drool bubbled out, mixing with your growing wetness to create a filthy, slippery mess that dripped down your ass. You could feel it everywhere—the slick glide of saliva and arousal coating your skin, making obscene squelching noisees every time he moved.

One hand braced on your thigh, claws dimpling the flesh without breaking skin, while the other slid up your inner thigh, fingers tracing the soaked path his tongue had blazed.

He pushed two fingers inside you without warning, the intrusion stretching your walls as he curled them upward, seeking that spongy spot that made you cry out his name. Your pussy clenched around the thick digits, pulling them deeper as he pumped them in and out, the motion deliberate and rough.

Each thrust displaced more of the messy combination of his spit and your cream, forcing it to squirt out around his knuckles with lewd, wet pops. He added a third finger, stretching you further, his thumb pressing down on your clit to grind in tandem with his sucking mouth.

The pressure built fast, your body arching off the couch as he finger-fucked you relentlessly, his tongue lashing your clit between deep, probing licks into your entrance.

Nicholas’ cock throbbed untouched against the edge of the sofa, precum leaking in heavy beads that smeared across the upholstery, but he just couldn’t stop—not yet. The more he tasted you, the way your pussy fluttered and gushed around his fingers, the more the rut screamed for him to flip you over and slam his cock balls-deep inside.

He growled low, the sound sending fresh vibrations through your core as he sucked harder, teeth grazing your clit just enough to sting. Drool poured from his mouth in rivulets, soaking your pubic hair, running down to where his fingers plunged, making ecery slide smoother, filthier. Your arousal squirted lightly with each curl of his fingers, splattering his chin and wrist, the scent of sex thick and heady in the air.

He pulled his fingers out briefly, only to shove them back deeper, scissoring them to open you up while his tongue delved inside alongside, fucking into your hole with broad, sloppy thrusts.

The mess was everywhere—your thighs glistened with it, the couch beneath you growing damp and sticky, his face shiny with saliva and your juices.

“Need to be inside you,” he panted, voice ragged as he lifted his head just enough to speak, orange eyes wild and unfocused.

But he dove back down, latching onto your clit again, sucking and licking with desperate fervor, fingers pistoning faster now, determined to make you cum on his tongue before he lost the fragile thread of control holding him back.

Your hands fisted in his damp hair, pulling him closer as the coil in your belly tightened, the dual assault of his mouth and fingers pushing you toward the edge. He was relentless, drooling and devouring like a man possessed, the filthy wetness amplifying every sensation until you shattered, pussy spasming around his fingers as you came with a keening moan, flooding his mouth with more of your release.

He lapped it all up greedily, but the taste only fueled the fire—the need to fuck you raw, too fill you with his cum until it leaked out in messy streams, overwhelming him completely.

Your body still quivered from the orgasm crashing through you, pussy clenching around nothing now that Nicholas had withdrawn his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more.

He rose up slightly on his knees between your spead thighs, his face glistening with the messy blend of your arousal and his drool, chin dripping as he licked his lips with a swipe of that rough tongue. His orange eyes burned into yours, pupils blown wide with the feral haze of his rut, but beneath it flickered a thread of restraint—the human part of him clinging to control.

His cock stood rigid against his abs, the shaft so thick it curved slightly upward, veins pulsing along its length, the head an angry red and weeping in thick ropes that stretched and snapped as he shifted. It was impossibly long, easily nine inches, the tip already swelling faintly with the promise of his knot.

He panted heavily, chest rising and falling, water from his earlier shower long evaporated into sweat that beaded on his tiger-striped skin. One hand wrapped around his cock, stroking once, twice, to spead the slick precum over the length, making it glisten obscenely.

The tiger inside roared in his mind—take her, claim her, breed her now—but he forced the words out, voice a gravelly whisper laced with desperation. “Please… tell me I can fuck you. Need to be inside you, but… don’t wanna hurt you. Say yes, female. Let me have you.”

Your nod was immediate, heart pounding at the vulnerability in his plea amid the primal storm. “Yes, Weno, please. Want you—all of you.” The words ignited him; a low snarl rumbled from his throat as he surged forward, hooking your legs over his hips to pull you closer.

The couch creaked under the shift, the cushions already soaked from his earlier attentions, but he didn’t care. He lined up his cock with your entrance, the fat head nudging your slick folds apart, teasing your clit before pressing down. With one controlled thrust, he sank in halfway, your pussy stretching around his girth with a burn that bordered on pain, walls fluttering to accommodate the invasion.

You cried out, nails scraping down his arms, leaving red trails on his damp skin.

“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned, hips snapping forward to bury the rest of his length inside you in a single, depp plunge.

His balls slapped against your ass, the fullness overwhelming as his cock bottomed out, the tip kissing your cervix with a jolt that made stars burst behind your eyelids. He filled you completely, every inch throbbing hot and heavy, the thickness splitting you open while the length reached places no one else ever had.

He held still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breath mingling in hot bursts as he adjusted to the vice-like grip of your pussy milking him. Drool escaped his lips again, landing on your collarbone in a warm splatter, mixing with the sweat slicking your bodies.

Then he started moving, pulling out slowly until just the head remained, your arousal coating his shaft in a shiny sheen that dripped down to his balls, before slamming back in with a wet smack. The pace built quickly, his thrusts powerful and unrelenting, hips pistoning as he fucked you into the couch, your back arching off the cushions to meet him.

Each drive hit deep, his cock dragging along your inner walls, the ridge of the head scraping that sensitive spot inside that had you gasping, toes curling. The filthy sounds filled the room—skin slapping skin, your pussy squelching around him as he churned your mixed fluids into a frothy cream that leaked out with every withdrawal, soaking the base of his cock and the couch beneath your ass.

“Gonna put my cubs in you,” he babbled, words tumbling out in a feverish rush between grunts, his rut overriding any filter as he rutted into you like an animal in heat. “Need to—fuck, fill this pussy with my seed, breed you full. Watch your belly swell with my kits, mark you inside and out. You’re my female, gonna knot you and—shit—pump every drop deep where it belongs.”

His voice cracked on the last word, hips stuttering as the words fueled his frenzy, thrusts turning erratic, deeper, harder, the couch frame groaning in protest. Precum leaked steadily from his tip, mixinf with your wetness to make each slide smoother, messier, the excess bubbling out around where you were joined and trickling down your ass.

You marked him in return, driven by the same wild instinct, your hands roaming his back as claws of your own—metaphorical, but no less fierce—raked down his spine, nails breaking skin in shallow scratches that welled with thin lines of blood.

He hissed in pleasure-pain, the sting only spurring him on, and you leaned up to sink your teeth into his shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave indents that bruised instantly, tasting the salt of his sweat and the faint mettalic tang of blood.

He marked you too, one hand pinning your hip with bruising force, fingers digging in to leave imprints on your skin, while his other hand claimed your breast, kneading the flesh roughly before his mouth descended.

His teeth found the top of your left breast, right over the existing mate mark he’d given you before—the two small puncture holes from his canines, healed but forever scarred as proff of your bond. He bit down again, not piercing but pressing hard enough to reopen the sensitivity, sucking on the mark with a possessive growl that vibrated through your chest.

The pain mingled with pleasure, your pussy clenching tighter around his pounding cock, pulling a guttural moan from him.

“Mine,” he snarled against your skin, tongue lapping at the twin holes before he lifted his head, eyes locking on yours with feral intensity.

But before he lost himself completely, he softened for a heartbeat, leaning down to press his lips tenderly to that very mark, kissing the two small punctures with a reverence that contrasted the brutal fucking, his tongue tracing the raised edges as if worshipping the bond he’d sealed there.

“Love you,” he murmured, the words barely audible over the wet slap of his hips against yours, before the rut reclaimed him fully.

His thrusts gew frantic, cock swelling thicker inside you, the knot beginning to inflate as he chased his release.

“Coming—fuck, gonna cum inside you,” he gasped, burying himself to the hilt one last time, the head of his cock pressing flush against your cervix.

His body tensed, muscles rippling under your hands, and then he erupted, hot spurts of cum flooding your pussy in thick, endless ropes.

The sensation was overwhelming, his seed painting your walls white, filling you to the brim as his knot swelled fully, locking him in place just inside your entrance—not forcing the full bulge past to avoid tearing you, but enough to seal everything inside.

He stayed like that, hips grinding in shallow circles to push every drop deeper, ensuring his cum bathed your womb, the warmth speading through your core as excess pressure built but stayed contained by his knot.

The rut burned hotter in his veins, his tiger nature granting him endless stamina that refused to let him rest. Even as the last pulses of orgasm faded, his cock throbbed insistently inside you, already hardening further against the slick confines of your pussy.

Sweat dripped from his brow onto your chest, mixing with the drying saliva from his earlier bites, and his amber eyes—now fully orange with feral hunger—locked onto yours.

A low growl vibrated through his chest, the sound primal and demanding, as he gripped your hips tighter, claws pricking your skin without breaking it.

“Not done yet,” he rasped, voice thick with need, his breath hot against your ear. “Need more of you, fill this pussy until you’re leaking me everywhere.”

Without waiting for a response, his hands slid under your thighs, strong fingers digging in as he lifted and flipped you over in one fluid motion. The sudden shift made his knot tug at your entrance, sending a fresh wave of pleasure-pain through you, but he was careful, easing out just enough to maneuver you onto your stomach on the couch.

Your knees sank into the cushions, ass raised instinctively as he positioned you on all fours, the position exposing you completely—your cum-filled pussy still clenching around emptiness, a thick trail of his seed already dribbling down your inner thighs, mixing with your own arousal to create a sticky mess that cooled against your skin.

Nicholas knelt behind you, his large hands spreading your ass cheeks apart, thumbs pulling your folds open to expose the creamy white evidence of his release leaking from your hole. The sight made him snarl, tongue darting out to wet his lips as drool gathered at the corners of his mouth.

“Look at that,” he murmured, voice husky and reverent, one finger tracing the puffy lips of your pussy before dipping inside to scoop out a glob of his cum, bringing it to his mouth to suck clean with a lewd slurp. “All mine, dripping out of you. But I’m not finished breeding my pretty female.”

He lowered his head, rough tiger tongue lapping flat against your slit from clit to entrance in a long, deliberate stroke that gathered the mingled fluids—your wetness, his cum, the remnants of his saliva from before.

The texture rasped deliciously over your sensitive nerves, making you shudder and push back against his face. He groaned into you, the vibration humming through your core as he devoured you hungrily, tongue thrusting inside your pussy to fuck the leaking cum back in, swirling around to taste the salty-sweet blend. Drool spilled from his lips freely now, unchecked by his rut-fueled frenzy, coating your folds and dripping down to your clit, where he flicked the tip of his tongue rapidly, circling the swollen nub until your thighs trembled.

“Fuck, you taste so good with me,” he mumbled against your skin, words muffled as he sucked your clit between his lips, teeth grazing just enough to sting.

His hands kneaded your ass, pulling you wider as his tongue delved deeper, lapping up every drop that escaped. But he didn’t stop there—his rut demanded more, every inch of you. With a possessive growl, he tilted his head lower, tongue tracing the path from your pussy up to your ass, over the sensitive skin of your perineum, until it reached the tight pucker of your asshole.

You gasped at the unexpected touch, body tensing, but he held you firm, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades to keep you arched.

“Relax, my female,” he soother, through his voice was edged with raw desire. His tongue circled your rim slowly, wetting the ring of muscle with broad, flat laps that made it clench and flutter.

He pushed the tip against the entrance, not breaching but teasing, rimming you with insistent pressure while his thumb rubbed circles over your clit to distract and heighten the sensation.

Saliva poured from his mouth, slicking your ass thoroughly, the wet sounds obscene as he ate you out from behind—tongue alternating between your pussy and asshole, dipping into one then dragging to the other, creating a filthy trail of spit and cum that soaked your thighs and the couch below.

Your body responded despite the novelty, hips rocking back to chase the pleasure, moans spilling from your lips as his rough tongue worked you open, the dual assault pushing you toward another edge.

He spent what felt like ages there, feasting on you relentlessly, his face buried between your cheeks as he licked and sucked, fingers joining to pump into your pussy alongside his tongue’s explorations. Two digits curled inside you, stroking that spongy spot while his mouth rimmed you, the combination filthy and overwhelming, your arousal spiking as drool and fluids smeared across his chin and your skin.

Nicholas panted heavily, his cock bobbing against his thighs, leaking fresh precum that splattered onto the cushions. The endless stamina of his rut kept him tireless, his tiger instincts driving him to prepare you, to claim every part without mercy.

Finally he pulled back with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting his lips to your ass before snapping. His hands gripped your hips, yanking you back as he rose up, the head of his cock—thick, long and veined—nudging against your entrance.

“Want it in your ass too?” he asked, but his tone was teasing, almost mocking, as he rubbed the tip along your slick crack, bumping your rim just once. You whimpered, the contact electric, but he chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Not today. My cum is only for our kits—gonna keep pumping it into this pussy until you’re bred full. That’s where it belongs, deep in your womb.”

With that, he thrust forward, slamming his cock balls-deep into your pussy in one brutal stroke. The stretch looked even more intense from this angle, his length spearing you open, the head battering your cervix as his hips met your ass with a resounding smack. You cried out, fingers clutching thecouch cushions, a string of “Weno” falling freely from your lips.

One large hand tangled in your hair, not pulling but guiding your face down, pressing your cheek firmly into the soft fabric of the cushion. “Stay down,” he ordered, voice a guttural command, his palm holding your head there as he began to fuck you from behind, each thrust driving deeper than the last.

The angle allowed him to hit places inside you that made your vision blur—his thick shaft dragging along your walls, the girth splitting you wide while the length punched into your depths, forcing out obscene squelches as his previous load churned with your fresh arousal.

He pushed your head harder into the cushions with every snap of his hips, muffling your moans as drool escaped your open mouth, soaking the fabric beneath your cheek. Your tiger drooled too, the rut making his control slip; saliva dripped from his fangs onto your back, trailing down your spine to pool where your bodies connected, adding to the slick mess that frothed around his cock with each withdrawal and plunge.

“Deeper—fuck, take it all,” he grunted, free hand spanking your ass sharply, making it sting as he redoubled his pace.

His thrusts grew savage, hips pistoning with animalistic force, balls slapping against your clit rhythmically, the impacts jolting pleasure through you. He leaned over your back, chest pressing down to cage you, his breath hot on your neck as he nipped at your shoulder, teeth grazing without breaking skin. The hand on your head kept you pinned, fingers splayed to hold you steady while he railed you, cock swelling thicker inside, another knot as he chased his release.

You felt every inch of him—the veins pulsing against your inner walls, the way his tip ground against your cervix with each deep hit, forcing more of his earlier cum to bubble out around his base, coating his sack and your thighs in a creamy sheen. Drool pooled under your mouth, your body limp and pliant under his dominance, waves of ecstasy building as he fucked you relentlessly.

Nicholas’ stamina showed no signs of waning; if anything, the rut fueled him, his growls turning to babbles of possession. “Gonna fill you again, female. Pump more of my seed in, make sure it takes. Pussy’s mine—squeezing me so tight, milking every drop.”

He hit deeper still, adjusting his angle to grind the head right against that barrier, the pressure intense and bordering on too much, but the pleasure overrode it all. Bot of you were lost in the haze, drool slicking skin and fabric, bodies slapping together in a rhythm that echoed through the apartment.

His knot began to inflate, catching on your entrance with each thrust, stretching you further as he barreled toward climax, determined to flood you once more with his intent to breed.

His pace turned frantic, hips slamming forward with unyielding force, the knot at the head of his cock inflating fully now, stretching your entrance to its limit as it locked in place just inside you. The pressure built unbearably, his thick shaft pulsing wildly, and then he came again, roaring through clenched teeth as ropes of hot cum erupted deep into your pussy.

Each spurt was forceful, splashing against your cervix and overflowing despite the seal, the escess bubbling out around the base to trickle down your thighs in sticky rivulets. He ground against you, hips circling to milk every last drop into your womb, his body shuddering with the intensity of his release, claws digging into your hips just enough to leave faint lines without drawing blood.

Nicholas collapsed over your back for a moment, chest heaving as he panted hot breaths against your neck, his orange eyes half-lidded in sated haze. But the rut’s fire still simmered, his endless stamina ensuring he wasn’t done—well, not by a long shot, at least.

With a low rumble in his throat, he eased back, his knot deflating, but still tugging insistently before popping free with a wet sound, unleashing a gush of his cum that poured from your abused hole, soaking the fabric beneath you. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, body trembling from the aftershocks, your pussy clenching around nothing as more of his seed leaked out, coating your skin in a glossy sheen.

Before you could fully collapse, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, flipping you onto your back once more with effortless strength.. The world spun briefly, your head landing softly against the armrest, legs splayed wide as you gasped for air, chest rising ans falling rapidly.

Your body ached in the best way—thighs quivering, core throbbing from the repeated poundings, skin slick with sweat, saliva and cum. Nicholas loomed over you, his muscular frame glistening, blonde mullet damp—now with sweat—and tousled, those piercing orange eyes fixed on you with a mix of feral hunger and tender possession. His cock, still rock-hard, jutted out proudly, smeared with your combined fluids.

You were still catching your breath, lungs burning, when the urge hit you—a deep, needy craving to taste him, to give back some of the pleasure he’d wrung from you. Despite his earlier words about saving his cum for your pussy, for breeding kits, you reached out, fingers wrapping arund his slick length, stroking tentatively.

“Let me… Wanna taste you, Weno,” you murmured, voice hoarse and breathless, eyes pleading up at him as your legs wobbled even from the slight shift in position.

He paused, a growl vibrating in his chest, his hand coming up to cup your jaw, thumb tracing your swollen lips. The rut made him possessive, every instinct screaming to claim your cunt again, to flood it with more seed. But seeing you like this—flushed, marked as his, offering yourself so willingly—stirred something softer amid the primal drive.

“Fuck,” he muttered, orange eyes darkening with lust. “You need a break, don’t you?” still, you caught a glint of regret in his eyes.

“Weno, just sit back and relax, yeah? Your female is gonna do the work and you just… relax,” you said, caressing his body as he stepped back to lean against the sofa’s edge, broad shoulders relaxing as he spread his legs slightly, cock bobbing invitingly.

You slid off the couch onto your knees before him, the carpet rough against your skin, but you didn’t care—your focus was solely on him. Legs still shaking from the relentless fucking, you steadied yourself with your hands on his thighs, feeling the powerful muscles tense under your touch, black stripes flexing subtly.

His scent enveloped you—musky arousal, sweat, and the faint wild tang of his hybrid nature—making your mouth water. You leaned in, nuzzling your cheek against the base of his cock first, inhaling deeply as you pressed soft kisses along the veiny underside, tasting the salty mix of his cum and your pussy on your lips.

Nicholas groaned, one hand threading into your hair, not pulling but guiding, fingers massaging your scalp as he watched you with hooded eyes.

“That’s it, take your time. Show me how much you want this cock.” Emboldened, you parted your lips, tongue darting out to lick a broad stripe from his balls to the tip, gathering the smeared fluids with a hum of appreciation.

His sack hung heavy, skin taut and warm, and you didn’t hesitate—sucking one ball into your mouth gently, rolling it on your tongue while your hand pumped the shaft slowly, twisting at the head to coax out fresh beads of precum.

The taste exploded on your tongue—bitter-salty precum mingling with the creamy remnants of his earlier releases, thick and coating your mouth like a forbidden treat. You released his ball with a pop, saliva stringing from your lips to the damp skin, and moved to the other, lavishing it with wet, slurping sucks that made obscene sounds fill the room.

Drool already gathered at the corners of your mouth, your own arousal spiking as you worked him, pussy clenching emptily and leaking more of his cum onto the floor between your knees.

Shifting higher, you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, sucking greedily on the flared tip, tongue swirling into the slit to lap up the steady drip of precum. He was so thick, your jaw aching slightly as you stretched your mouth wider, taking inch after inch past your lips.

The veins pulsed against your tongue, the heat of him searing as you bobbed shallowly at first, hollowing your cheeks to create suction that drew a hiss from him.

“Shit, yeah—just like that. Deeper, female. I know you can take it.” His voice was rough, hips twitching forward instinctively, but he held back, leting you set the pace while his free hand gripped the sofa behind him for support.

You obliged, relaxing your throat as you pushed forward, gagging softly when the head bumped the back of your mouth, but you powered through, saliva flooding to ease the way. Inch by veiny inch disappeared between your lips, until your nose brushed the coarse blonde hairs at his base, his cock fully sheated in the wet heat of your mouth.

Tears pricked your eyes from the stretch, but the thrill of it—feeling him throb on your tongue, hearing his ragged breaths—made it all worthwhile. You held there for a beat, swallowing around him to massage his length, the constriction pulling a moan from deep in his chest.

Pulling back with a gasp, strings of spit connecting your lips to his glistening cock, you dove in again, setting a sloppy rhythm. Your head bobbed faster now, lips sliding messily along his shaft, saliva dribbling down your chin and onto his balls, soaking them further.

The blowjob turned filthy—wet slurps and gags echoing as you choked yourself on his length, one hand bracing on his thighs while the other fondled his sack, rolling and tugging gently. Drool poured freely, mixing with precum to create a slick froth that coated his cock and your fingers, dripping onto your breasts and the floor in lewd patters.

Nicholas’ control frayed, his hand tightening in your hair as he started to thrust shallowly, fucking your mouth with controlled snaps of his hips.

“Look at you, drooling all over my dick like a good little female. Fuck, your mouth’s so hot,” you moaned around him, the vibration making his thighs quake, and redoubled your efforts, tongue pressing flat against the underside to trace every ridge and vein as you deepthroated him repeatedly.

Gagging sounds grew louder, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, running in rivulets down your neck, but you didn’t stop—hollowing your cheeks on the upstroke, swirling your tongue on the down, determined to make it as messy and intense as his rut demanded.

He watched you intently, orange eyes blazing, fangs peeking as he panted. “Gonna cum soon… female,” the warning sent a shiver through you, your wobbly legs pressing together to ease the ache in your core, but you focused on him, sucking with renewed vigor.

Your jaw burned, throat raw, but the sloppy glide of his cock—slick with your saliva, precum oozing steadily—kept you going. You popped off briefly to catch your breath, hand jerking him furiously, twisting over the head while your tongue lapped at the slit, then plunged back down, taking him to the hilt again.

The room filled with the sounds of your devotion, wet smacks of lips on skin, your muffled whimpers, his deepening growls. Saliva slicked everything, your chin shiny and dripping, his cock a mess of spit and veins standing out darkly. You felt him sweel thicker on your tongue, the knot beginning to form, pressing against your lips as you worked the shaft.

“Close—fuck, yes,” he grunted, hips bucking erratically now, hand guiding your head to meet his thrusts. You let him use your mouth, relaxing as he fucked deeper, the head battering your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks, mixing with the drool.

With a final, savage thrust, Nicholas came, cock pulsing as thick jets of cum shot straight down your throat. You swallowed convulsively, the hot, salty flood overwhelming but you took it greedily, gulping around him to milk every spurt.

Excess spilled past your lips anyway, dribbling down your chin in white streaks as he kept pumping, his endless stamina ensuring the orgasm dragged on, filling your mouth until you had to pull back slightly, the last ropes landing on your tongue for you to savour. He shuddered, groaning your name as you licked him clean, tongue tracing every inch to gather the remnants, swallowing with a satisfied hum.

Panting you knelt there, legs trembling harder now, face a wreck of spit, cum and tears, but a triumphant smile curved your lips as you looked up at him. Nicholas pulled you up gently, drawing you into his lap as he sat fully on the sofa, his cock still semi-hard against your thigh, ready for more.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, kissing your forehead, the rut’s fire reigniting in his eyes. “Rest a second. Then I’m breeding that pussy again.”

But his hands were already roaming your body, fingers digging into your hips as he lifted you effortlessly to position you on your back again, knees drawn up to your chest, exposing your dripping folds completely.

“Need to fill you up,” he growled, eyes locked on your core as he aligned his cock, the thick head nudging your entrance before thrusting in with one brutal snap of his hips.

The stretch burned deliciously, his veined length bottoming out against your cervix in an instant. You cried out, nails raking down his back, leaving red trails over his tiger-striped muscles. He didn’t hold back—pounding into you with feral rhythm, the sofa creaking under the force as his balls slapped wetly against your ass.

Drool escaped his parted lips, fangs glinting, and he leaned down to capture your mouth in a messy kiss, tongues tangling sloppily while saliva swapped between you. His thrusts grew erratic, hips grinding to bury deeper, and soon his knot swelled, locking him inside as he came with a roar, hot spurts flooding your womb until cum overflowed, soaking the cushions and your skin.

He stayed knotted for what felt like ages, panting against your neck, nipping lightly without breaking skin this time. When it deflated enough, he pulled out with an obscene squelch, a torrent of his release gushing from you onto the sofa. But he wasn’t satisfied—far from it.

Scooping you up, he carried you across the living room, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. “Every inch of this place is gonna smell like us.” He pressed yuo against the wall near the bookshelf, the cool surface a stark contrast to his scorching body.

Hours blurred like this in the living room—him flipping you onto the coffee table next, your back on the glass surface as he folded you in half, legs over his shoulders while he drilled down into you. The table shook, threatening to crack under his weight, your heels digging into his back as you clawed at his arms. Cum from earlier encounters smeared across the table, mixing with fresh sweat and spit as he came again, knot tying you together while he ground against you, ensuring every drop stayed buried.

By the time he carried you to the kitchen, your body was a wreck—limbs jelly, skin painted in bites and handprints, pussy raw and overflowing. The clock showed three in the afternoon, but time meant nothing in the haze of his rut. He set you on the counter, the cold granite shocking against your heated ass, spreading your thighs wide as he stepped between them.

“Hungry for more?” he teased, but his eyes were wild, cock throbbing as he rubbed the head along your slit, coating himself in the mess leaking from you. You nodded weakly, pulling him closer, and he thrust in deep, the counter digging into your back as he fucked you with long, deliberate strokes.

Kitchen tools clattered to the floor from the force, a spoon rolling away as his hips battered yours. He grabbed a nearby apple from the bowl, biting into it with a crunch before offering you a piece, juice dribbling down his chin to mix with the sweat on his chest. You licked it off him, the sweet tang contrasting the salty musk, and he groaned, picking up speed. His hands gripped your waist, lifting you slightly to angle deeper, cock dragging over that spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyes.

Drool pooled on the counter from your open-mouthed gasps, and he leaned in to lap at it, tongue tracing your lips before shoving it into your mouth for another sloppy exchange.

“Taste yourself on me,” he commanded, pulling out briefly to smear his cock—glistening with your cream—across your lips.

You sucked the tip eagerly, tongue cleaning the veins before he plunged back in, fucking you harder now, the cabinets rattling behind you. Your ass slid on the counter from the building slick—cum, arousal, sweat creating a slippery puddle that dripped to the floor. He pinched your clit between thrusts, rolling it until you squirted, soaking his groin and the cabinets below.

Nicholas laughed darkly, the sound turning to a growl as his knot began to form, swelling to stretch you impossibly as he came, flooding you anew, the overflow cascading down the counter like a filthy waterfall.

He didn't let you rest—hoisting you onto the kitchen table next, clearing it with a sweep of his arm that sent plates crashing. On your stomach, ass up, he mounted you from behind, one foot on a chair for leverage as he pounded relentlessly.

His claws scraped the wood, leaving gouges, while his teeth sank into your shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood this time—the metallic tang mixing with his saliva as he licked the wound.

“Mine,” he snarled between thrusts, hips slamming so hard the table legs scraped across the tile. You pushed back against him, meeting his rhythm, pussy clenching to pull him deeper, the wet slaps echoing louder than the mess.

Sweat flew with each impact, your hair matted to your forehead, his blonde mullet swinging as he rutted. He reached under to finger your clit, two digits circling roughly while his cock stretched you, building you to another peak.

When you came, it was with a wail, juices spraying back onto his thighs, and he followed immediately, knot locking as cum erupted, filling you until it backed up and squirted out with every tiny movement. The table was ruined—scratches, fluids pooling in the grooves, the air thick with sex.

Exhaustion tugged at you, but his stamina was inhuman, the rut keeping him hard and insatiable. “Shower—need to clean you up just to dirty you again,” he murmured, lifting you once more, your arms looping around his neck as he carried you down the hall.

The bathroom door banged open, steam already rising from the hot water he must have turned on earlier in his frenzy. He stepped under the spray—both of you bare and filthy— the water cascading over his muscles, washing away some of the grime but not the heat.

Pinning you against the tiled wall, he hiked your leg up, sliding his cock home with ease, the water making everything slicker, louder. The showerhead pounded on his back as he thrust up into you, water streaming down your faces, mixing with tears of overstimulation and fresh drool from your kisses.

He panted, sucking on your neck, leaving a fresh hickey amid the bites. His hands roamed, one squeezing your ass, finger teasing your rim briefly before pulling away—sticking to his rule, no cum there.

You clung to him, nails in his shoulders, as he fucked you standing, the water turning the floor hazardous with soap and fluids. He spun you to face the wall, hands braced on the tiles, and entered from behind, the new depth making you keen.

His chest pressed to your back, one arm banding around your waist to hold you steady while the other rubbed your breasts, tweaking nipples until they ached. Drool mixed with water on your chin as you moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder for sloppy, waterlogged kisses.

The steam thickened the air, scents of soap undercut by raw sex—his knot swelled again under the spray, tying you as he came, hot seed pumping into you while water rinsed the excess down the drain in white swirls. But he kept going even knotted, rocking gently to prolong it, then pulling out to bend you over the shower bench.

On your knees now, ass presented, he ate you out first—tongue delving into your cum-filled pussy, lapping up his own release mixed with water, sucking your clit until you shuddered through another orgasm, squirting into his mouth.

Satisfied, he stood and thrust back in, fucking you over the bench with hands gripping your hips, water splashing everywhere. The shower lasted ages—him switching positions, from behind to pulling you onto his lap on the floor, riding him reverse as water poured over you both. Each climax built on the last, his loads filling you repeatedly, knotting until your pussy overflowed constantly, the drain struggling with the deluge of cum, water, and arousal.

Now, after the rut's frenzy had finally ebbed away, leaving your bodies exhausted and sated, you found yourselves tangled in the rumpled sheets of Nicholas's bed.

The apartment was quiet, the earlier chaos of slick trails and scattered clothes a distant memory as the night deepened. His massive form sprawled beneath you, chest rising and falling in steady rhythms, amber eyes half-lidded with a lingering haze of contentment. The feral orange glow had faded completely, replaced by the warm, golden hue that always made your heart stutter—his true self emerging from the beast.

You shifted atop him, thighs bracketing his hips, feeling the persistent heat of his cock pressing against your inner thigh. Even softened by the hours of relentless breeding, it stirred at your proximity, thickening slightly as you reached down to grasp it.

Your fingers wrapped around the veined length, guiding the flushed head to your entrance where his previous loads still leaked from you in slow, creamy dribbles.

The air smelled of sex—musky sweat, drying cum, and the faint tang of your combined arousal—but it felt right, intimate in the afterglow.

With a soft exhale, you sank down onto him, the stretch familiar now, your pussy yielding easily to his girth. Inch by inch, he filled you again, the ridges along his shaft dragging against your sensitive walls, coated in the messy remnants of your union. Nicholas groaned, a low, rumbling sound from deep in his chest, his hands coming up to rest lightly on your hips—not to control, but to steady, thumbs tracing idle patterns over your skin.

"Easy, female... just like this," he murmured, voice husky and roughened from all the snarls and growls earlier, but laced with tenderness now.

You began to move, rolling your hips in a slow, unhurried grind, lifting until just the tip remained inside before descending fully, taking him to the hilt. Each descent pressed his pubic bone against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure radiating through your core.

Your breasts swayed gently with the motion, heavy and aching from the marathon of stimulation—his bites, the constant friction, the way he'd kneaded and sucked them raw. As you ground down harder on one particularly deep stroke, a sharp twinge bloomed in your chest, and you felt it: warm liquid beading at your nipples, trickling in thin streams down the swells of your breasts.

Milk. Just a few drops at first, pearly white against your flushed skin, but enough to catch the dim light from the bedside lamp.

Nicholas's eyes locked onto the sight immediately, nostrils flaring as he inhaled the subtle, sweet scent wafting from you. His pupils blew wide, amber darkening, and a fresh wave of hunger washed over his features—not the savage rut-lust, but something deeper, more possessive, like a mate envisioning his legacy taking root.

"Gods... you're leaking for me," he breathed, voice slurring with awe and need, one hand sliding up your side to cup the underside of your breast, lifting it toward his mouth.

He latched on without pause, lips sealing around your nipple, tongue pressing flat against the bud as he sucked—firm, insistent pulls that made your back arch. The sensation shot straight to your pussy, walls clenching around his cock in rhythmic squeezes, milking him in response.

You moaned, hands planting on his pectorals for balance, nails digging into the striped muscle as you continued your calm ride. His free hand mirrored the first, kneading your other breast, thumb circling the nipple until more milk welled up, spilling over his fingers. He broke away briefly to lick the droplets from his skin, then switched sides, mouth enveloping the untouched peak with a wet slurp.

Saliva dripped from his lips, mixing with the milk as it flowed freer now, encouraged by his eager nursing. He swallowed greedily, throat working around each draw, a soft growl vibrating against your flesh that made your clit throb.

"Taste so fucking good... my mate, bet you're full of our kits already," he mumbled between sucks, words muffled and dazed, his hips twitching up lazily to meet your descents.

He was pussydrunk on you—lost in the velvet grip of your heat, the way your juices soaked his balls with every roll of your hips, the intimate proof of your fertility dripping into his mouth. His cock pulsed inside you, not swelling to knot, but thickening just enough to stretch you further, the head nudging your cervix with each gentle thrust.

You picked up the pace fractionally, circling your hips to grind deeper, feeling the squelch of old cum being pushed out around his base, trickling down to coat his sack and the sheets below. The bed creaked softly under your movements, a far cry from the frantic slamming against walls and counters earlier.

Nicholas's hands roamed now, one staying at your breast to coax more milk—squeezing the globe until streams arced into his waiting mouth—while the other traced the faint swell of your belly, fingers splaying wide as if he could feel the life stirring there.

"Gonna keep you like this... swollen, leaking, all mine," he rasped, eyes glassy and unfocused, completely immersed in the fantasy of breeding you over and over.

The pull of his mouth grew hungrier, teeth grazing the sensitive areola just enough to sting sweetly, tongue lashing the nipple before he sucked harder, drawing out longer spurts that he lapped up like nectar.

Drool escaped the corners of his lips, trailing down your chest in shiny paths, pooling in the valley between your breasts. You whimpered, the dual sensations overwhelming—his cock dragging along your front wall, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids, and the relentless nursing sending jolts to your core. Your thighs trembled, slick with sweat and arousal, inner muscles fluttering as pleasure built in languid waves.

He released your nipple with a lewd pop, milk-smeared lips glistening as he gazed up at you, expression one of utter devotion.

"Harder—female, please... wanna feel you cum around my cock while I drink from you." His voice was a plea, soft and wrecked, urging you on without demand.

You obliged, lifting and dropping with more purpose, the slap of skin on skin echoing quietly, your pussy clenching to pull him deeper. He dove back in, alternating between breasts now, sucking one while pinching the other, ensuring both leaked steadily—warm rivulets soaking his chin, dripping onto his throat and chest hair.

Time blurred in the haze, your bodies syncing in a slow-building rhythm, breaths panting in unison. His balls drew up tight against you, the vein along his shaft throbbing as he fought to hold back, savoring every slide into your heat. You ground down fully, circling to rub your clit against him, the friction igniting a coil in your belly that wound tighter with each pass.

Milk continued to flow, spurred by the motion and his touches, and Nicholas hummed in bliss, swallowing it down as if it were the sweetest elixir, his pussydrunk state deepening into blissful oblivion.

"Close... fuck, you're gonna make me—" His words cut off in a groan as you clenched deliberately, walls rippling around him. The orgasm hit you first, cresting like a gentle tide—your pussy spasming in long, undulating pulses, juices gushing out to drench his groin. You cried out, head falling back, breasts jiggling as milk sprayed lightly from the peaks. Nicholas latched on through it, sucking harder to capture every drop, his own release triggered by the sight and feel of you unraveling.

He thrust up shallowly, once, twice, then held deep as he came—thick ropes of cum flooding your depths, mixing with the rest in warm, overflowing spurts.

No knot this time, just the intimate spill as he filled you one last time that night, body shuddering beneath yours.

You collapsed forward onto his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely, cock softening inside as aftershocks rippled through you both. He nuzzled your hair, lips brushing your temple, the taste of milk still on his breath.

"My everything... rest now, love. We've got forever." The words faded into murmurs as sleep claimed you, entwined in the quiet peace of your bond.

スカイ ﹕ finally after a few... weeks ig it's DONE!! omg i can't believe i'm crying tears of full happiness!! it's not proofread (i am tired of this one goddamn) so if you see any mistakes, you didn't. at least i learned a lot of new words awooooo

&team camera roll + taglist (open) ❤︎ @spacejip @lyvhie @strawikus @pgwkzworld @nichozzystuffs @andrealvsmakii @kurimurii @guliexe @sh1n3-4h4na @lyrarinn @heeseungseyelash @haerinvd @taelvvrzz @riri4andy @saturnsfae

all rights reserved. © RIKUNOTFOUND. | do not plagiarize, translate or repost any of my content. do not my write to feed into artificial intelligence.

[pineappleonmyburger]

Prove Me Wrong series

Masterlist

•&Team x Reader

•11 part series, possible epilogue

•Synopsis: when you mention to your group of guy friends that you could NEVER see them that way, they go one by one to prove you wrong using a specialty of their choice. and to find out who/what you enjoy the most…

Part 1: Prove Me Wrong- The Idea (Intro chapter)

Part 2: Prove Me Wrong- Such A Tease (Dry humping/thigh riding w/Jo)

Part 3: Prove Me Wrong- Show Me (Mutual masturbation w/Euijoo)

Part 4: Prove Me Wrong- Can’t Take It (Soft!dom reader & overstimulation w/Harua)

Part 5: Prove Me Wrong- Sit (Face sitting & 69 w/Nicholas)

Part 6: Prove Me Wrong- Breathe (Breath play w/Yuma)

Part 7: Prove Me Wrong- Sensational (Sensation play {ice cubes, wax, blindfold} w/Maki)

Part 8: Prove Me Wrong- No Escape (Hard!dom & bondage w/Fuma)

Part 9: Prove Me Wrong- Harder (Rough sex {hickeys, hair pulling, spanking etc} w/K)

Part 10: Prove Me Wrong- Not Here (Exhibitionism & Orgasm control w/Taki)

Part 11: Prove Me Wrong - Use Me (SURPRISE BONUS CHAPTER) (K, Euijoo, Nicho 😘🤭)

Epilogue: Prove Me Wrong - Back to Life

NOTE:🗣️🗣️🗣️

👉🏼 I’m going ahead and posting the masterlist for this series I’m about to start working on because I’m so fucking excited I can hardly wait. AND to give you a lil sneak peak of each chapter 🥵 (shoutout to my bestie @bulnoriyash for the help with each chapter idea)

[shyxcherry]

bruised hearts & steady hands | nicholas

summary: when your friends drag you for a night out, you didn't expect to catch the attention of the most attractive guy you've ever met. nor did you expect to sleep with him. but here you were, with messed up feelings about someone whose name you didn't even know. oh, and don't forget he's your brother's best friend (and boss).

pairing: tattooartist!nicholas x female!reader

warning: fluff, angst, smut (oral (both), fingering, both protected and unprotected sex), reader has some trauma in her past (mental health issues that aren't descripted but hinted at)

word count: 11.4k

notes: 2/9 of the series down! i absolutely loved how this turned out. like i need tattoo artist nicho like right now... next up in the series will be yuma! let me know who we want after him. likes and reblogs appreciated!

ink and asphalt masterlist

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━☆━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

you let out a sigh as you set the box of kitchen items on the counter. every part of your body was killing you, having to go up two flights of stairs because of course the elevator would be out of service the day you move in. you all but collapse onto the cold tile floor to cool yourself off, looking up when you see your brother walk in with two more large boxes– looking unbothered as usual.

you wouldn't expect anything less from your brother, fuma. he was three years older than you, claiming the title as older sibling– and always using that against you. he's been your guardian since you were practically born. he hated when you moved a few hours away to go to college for the past few years. now that you were back, you were of course thrown under his wing again– not that you minded.

"how are you so unphased by this?" you ask, a little winded from your trip. fuma laughs, sitting the boxes down before grabbing a water, opening it before handing it to you. you drink half of the bottle before sitting it down beside you.

"maybe it's time for you to start working out, brat." you roll your eyes at his statement.

"i'll start working out when you get a girlfriend." you respond, grabbing his outstretched hand as he helped you off of the floor. "i still don't understand how you got me the apartment right next to yours."

"i promised the owner a free tattoo of any size."

your eyes widened. "that wasn't necessary, bear. i could've rented someplace else."

"it was necessary." he told you, leaving no room for argument. "it's my job to keep you safe."

you hum out a response as you start opening boxes to begin packing away. "you gonna hold my hand and walk me to work too?"

"no, but i am driving you."

you rolled your eyes at his answer. "that's only because i'm saving up for a car. it won't be for long."

"i don't care how long it is." fuma responded. "take your time. maybe spend some money on a new shirt first."

you look down when he tugged on the frayed shirt that clearly had a couple holes in it. this was one of your favorite shirts– fuma got it for you when you two went to a concert together when you were 15. you gasped at the notion, smacking his hand away from you. "how dare you say such a thing? you don't see me telling you to get rid of that dirty pokémon that i got you."

"maybe i will when you learn its name." he crossed his arms, waiting for you to tell him the name– chuckling when it was clear that you didn't know the name. "it's eevee."

"i knew that."

fuma rolled his eyes, messing up your hair as he walked by. "of course you did, brat."

"whatever." you huffed. "you got plans for the weekend?"

"yeah. i'm going out clubbing with the guys. wanna come?"

you shook your head. "chae and yunjin are also going clubbing and asked if i wanted to go with them."

"be careful, okay. i won't be drinking, so let me know if you need a ride."

you nod your head, a small smile on your face. "of course, bear. i'll be careful. promise."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━☆━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

your promise to fuma to be careful went out the window as soon as you stepped into the club. you told yourself you were really going to try, but you immediately caught sight of arguably one of the most attractive guys you've ever seen. he instantly caught your eye– even as you sat down at a booth with chae and yunjin.

you couldn't see too much due to the dark lights, but you could see the way his dark eyes scanned the space with a confident aura. your eyes followed the sharp lines of his jaw, watching as they become more defined as he smiled at some guy as he walked by. and when he lifted his hand to brush his hair out of his face, you could see the tattoos peeking out from under his jacket sleeve. you felt yourself becoming entranced by the man who hadn't even looked in your direction yet.

you shouldn't even be entertaining the idea. you just moved here a few days ago– still getting settled into a new job. you shouldn't be tempted to find someone, but maybe you didn't. maybe you could just have some fun. just fun. no commitment.

"who are we staring at, babe?" you glance over to yunjin as she slides into the booth across from you, sitting down a round of drinks.

"he must be cute because she's been ignoring me for the last 5 minutes." chae responded with a light laugh.

you blush at the fact that you got caught staring at someone. "it's nothing. just a cute guy."

"cute like i want to bring him to meet the parents, or cute like i want to end the night underneath him screaming his name?" you nearly choke on your drink at yunjin's question. "i'm guessing it's the second option."

"oh, girl this could be so good for you." chae exclaimed.

you shook your head. "i don't have time for anything."

"but you do have time for a one night stand." yunjin spoke as she took a sip of her drink before motioning behind you. "i'm hoping that's the guy you were staring at because he's looking at you like he wants to devour you."

chae leaned over to look– a small gasp slipping past her lips. "yn! he's so cute."

you quickly glance over your shoulder, meeting the dark eyes that had captured your attention earlier. when he realized you were staring at him, he smirked, sending a wink in your direction. you bite your lip at the motion, an action that he noticed– eyes trailing to your lips. you smiled at that before quickly turning back around.

"oh my god. that's him." you whisper shout to your two clearly excited friends.

"whatever you just did worked because he has not stopped staring." chae responded. "who knew our girl had it in her?"

"she's about to have a lot more in her."

you groan at her words but couldn't help the stir in your stomach at the thought. you never thought you would be the one for a one night stand, but for someone like him, you would make an exception. "what do i do?"

"you're going to get your ass up and make him come to you." yunjin said, receiving two confused looks from you and chae. "go dance babe."

your eyes widened. "not alone!"

"oh please." yunjin brushed off your concerns with a flick of her wrist. "you won’t be alone for more than a few seconds. i guarantee it. if not, i’ll join you. just make sure you text us in the morning, so we know you're still alive."

you thought about it for a moment, chewing on your lip. "am i really about to do this?"

"yes, you are." chae nodded. "you said it yourself. you have worked hard to get to where you are, and you deserve a night of fun. besides, you said your last boyfriend was shit in bed, so you clearly need to get laid properly."

you let out a sigh, drinking the rest of your drink before standing up. even as you leave the table and disappear in the large crowd, you could still feel his eyes on you– watching you. you tried to blend in, even though you've never danced alone before, closing your eyes before dancing along to the music.

you were alone for maybe 30 seconds before you felt a warm body slide behind yours. his sharp cologne hit your nose as his hand flattened on your stomach, pulling you closer to him. as the two of you dance, you could feel his semi as your back pressed against his front– feeling as it gets harder when you roll your hips back. his other hand moves across your shoulder, running his thumb over your jaw before tilting your head up– meeting his gaze for a second time.

"keep dancing with me like this, and you're not leaving alone." his voice low, rough as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

your breath hitches as his lips graze the shell of your ear. you turn your head, catching more glimpses of tattoos on his neck and chest as you turn around in his arms – grabbing his jacket and pulling him closer to you. “good.”

his eyes scan your face for any sort of hesitance, but he doesn’t get any. his hand slides to the small of your back – the other one in your hair. he slightly tugs on the strands, angling your gaze back up to his. his breath was warm as it hit your skin as his nose brushed yours. “i don’t let go easy.”

“who likes easy?” you respond, earning a low chuckle from him. “but if you take me home, i should at least know your name.”

his smirk was teasing, lips almost brushing yours as his hand moves out of your hair – thumb trailing along your bottom lip that was painted red. “you’ll forget it with the way i plan to touch you, but you can call me weno if you want.” you could tell that wasn’t his actual name, and somehow that made you feel more calm about this. he knew it as well that it was only for tonight. “and i’ll call you red.”

your mouth parted, and he took the opportunity to slide his thumb into your mouth. you wrapped your lips around him, circling your tongue around his thumb as you suck – all while keeping eye contact with him. a small curse leaves his mouth as he watches you. he slowly pulls his thumb out of your mouth, smearing your saliva on your lower lip. he didn’t say another word, grabbing your jaw before slamming his lips onto yours.

his kiss was rough, claiming you like he’s been wanting to do since he set his sights on you. you gasp into his mouth, fingers clutching his shoulders before moving up to tangle into his hair. he lets out a barely their groan when you pull on the strands, but you could feel the vibration against your lips. your lips parted– his tongue sliding against yours, slow and teasing. you shiver as the cool jewel of his tongue piercing slid against your tongue because of course he had one. he almost refused to stop, but as much as he wanted to, he didn’t take it any further – not while the two of you were still in the middle of the dance floor. his grip on your back tightened as he pulled away from you first. you let out a breath, finally feeling the intensity of the kiss, you just shared. your eyes meet his, slightly nervous that he didn’t feel the same way, but all you saw was his eyes, somehow darker now, staring down at you with the same intensity you were sure you had.

“do you want to go back to mine?” his tone was short, clearly struggling to keep control of his emotions.

“i would be really disappointed if not.” you untangle your hands from his hair– him grabbing your hand immediately before guiding you out of the club. you met yunjin’s and chae’s eyes for a second, sending a quick wave while watching the two freak out. you would never hear the end of this from the two of them.

he led you over to his car. “i haven’t had anything to drink, so you’re safe with me.”

you nodded your head, allowing him to help you get in before he got in himself. the lights lit up the car as you passed under them before you two were developed into darkness. his hand drifted to your thigh, right above your knee– unmoving as he tries to focus on the road, but you were making it impossible. the way your eyes watch his every move, lips swollen from where he’s kissed you, thighs clenched shut as you shift in your seat.

he meets your gaze as he pulls up to his place. “last chance to turn back.”

you wait until he parks the car before unbuckling your seatbelt, leaning over– lips grazing his ear while your other hand brushes against his erection. “bold word coming from someone with a boner.”

“get out of the car.” you smile at his demand, pulling away from him before getting out of the car. he once again grabs your hand, guiding you up the driveway before letting the two of you into the house. it was dark, and he didn’t bother to turn any lights on before he pulled you into him. “you’re mine now.”

his mouth crashed against yours, done with the teasing from earlier. the kiss was hot and messy– all tongue and teeth as his hands grip at your sides. his hands bunch up your dress, allowing his hands to run along your bare legs, squeezing at the tender flesh. you moan into the kiss when his hands pull your dress up even more, exposing your lower half to him. his lips leave yours as he spins you around, chest pressed against the wall as his thigh pushes between your legs. his hands tightly grip your waist as his hips press against yours– moaning out when his clothed erection rolls against you. his breath was rough on your neck as his lips attach to the skin, biting down hard enough to have you gasp.

“this is what you wanted, isn’t it red?” you nod your head. tilting your head to allow him even more of your body that felt like it was on fire– everywhere he touched felt like a match had been stuck there.

his hand slides around your waist, trailing along the edge of your waistband before moving down between your legs. his touch was slow, teasing as his fingers ran over the fabric– feeling the wet spot and showing how much you wanted him. “so wet, red. and i haven’t even started yet.”

“weno–” you whine out when his fingers slip into the front of your underwear. his touch was slow, just enough to make you squirm, not enough to satisfy. you hear his low chuckle in your ear when you push back against him.

“patience, red. i’m going to take my time with you.”

your whine quickly turns into a sigh in relief, cheek resting against the wall when his thumb finally puts pressure on your throbbing clit. his lips continued to kiss and bite along your neck as his touch deepens, teasing your slit before he slides a finger inside of you, barely giving you any time to adjust before he’s moving his hand– groaning against your ear when you clench around him as a moan escapes your lips.

“so tight.” he breaths, curling his finger just right to have your back arch, crying out at the feeling. “how long has it been since someone’s touch this gorgeous body?”

“too long.” you groan out as he plunges in a second finger. he started out slow before building up a rhythm that had you rolling your hips against his hand. “fuck– weno.”

“there she is. i want you to lose control for me. you’re not leaving here without screaming my name to the point where you can’t talk.” you jump when his thumb increases speed on your clit, circling the bud tightly. you whine out his name as his hand pumped faster, motions deliberate– wanting to watch as you fell apart. “let me hear how good you sound as you come all over my fingers, red.”

his fingers curled, hitting the perfect spot to bring you over the edge. you cried out his name, rocking your hips against his hand as you ride out your high. his grip was tight on your waist as you opened your eyes to meet his, lust filling his eyes. his fingers leave you as he pulls his glistening hand up to his face. he makes sure you keep eye contact as he cleans off his hand with his mouth, groaning at the taste and leaving you desperate for more.

“you’re not getting any sleep tonight.”

your world is flipped upside down as he throws you over his shoulder. he climbs a set of stairs before opening a door down the hallway. it was pitch black as he threw you back onto the bed. he turned his bedside lamp on before he climbed on top of you– legs keeping you hostage. his breath hit your lips before his tongue shoved past your lips, brushing against your tongue lazily, but it kept you wanting more. your hands gripped his shoulders, pushing his jacket off before trying to pull his shirt off as well. he bit your lip before he sat up– a silent warning to not being patient as he pulled off his shirt.

your eyes ran down his chest and arms, seeing the tattoos that painted over almost all of his skin. you only looked away when you heard him laugh, meeting his eyes as he leans back down– holding your jaw as he kissed you. “like what you see red?”

you open your mouth to respond but stop when his hands cup your breasts. a small gasp left your mouth when he pulled the top of your dress down, exposing your breasts to him. his lips trail down your neck, biting and sucking, while his hands return to your breasts. his hands rough and teasing, squeezing just enough to make you arch into his touch. you could feel his smug smile on your skin, nipping at your neck as his thumb brushed over your nipple. you jump– a moan leaving your lips when he pinches the sensitive bud.

“listen to you. so responsive already, and i’m just getting started.”

his mouth left your neck, impatiently moving down to your chest. he pulled your dress down even further as he kissed between your breasts, letting his tongue trace shapes as he slowly trailed down. his hands cupped your breasts again– like he loved the feeling of them in his hands. he squeezed them one last time before his tongue found your breast. he flicked your nipple teasingly before latching his mouth around it, sucking harshly.

you gasp, back arching as your hands tangle in his hair. “fuck, weno.” he was like an animal– biting and sucking until your skin turned red before running his tongue along the area, soothing it. his hands groping and squeezing at every inch of skin his mouth couldn’t. your back arched into his mouth when he groaned– the vibration sending chills across your skin. “weno, please.”

“greedy girl. begging for more already?” he taunted as his hands started to pull the dress off your body. as soon as he threw the dress, his lips moved away from your breast, trailing slow, heated kisses down your stomach while his hands toyed with your waistband. “say please again and maybe i’ll give you what you want.”

“please.” you beg, raising your hips, desperate for more. “please, weno.”

he let out a hum of approval, sliding your bottoms down your legs. his kissed the inside of your thigh before kissing the other one, biting down in warning when you whined in impatience. he moved forward, finally giving you some relief. his tongue was slow, licking along your folds – watching when you jerked when his piercing pressed against your clit. you had never felt anything like it before, and now you were questioning why. “you’re sweet as sin, red.”

he dove in completely without warning, tongue moving against you like he had done it a million times and knew exactly how to make you scream. he let his piercing do most of the work, circling and rolling over your clit – having you grab the sheets to try to ground yourself. your moans were getting louder, more frequent as his hand spread across your stomach, holding you down. his other hand that was gripping your thigh moved, slightly ghosting up your leg until he was teasing your entrance. with one motion, he plunged two fingers deep inside of you– your hand tangling in his hair at the action.

“f- weno.”

you could feel him get more confident, more into making you come undone again for him. he kept changing up his speed, going fast enough to have your eyes rolling back before slowing down– allowing you to feel everything he was giving you. your heels dug into the mattress, thighs trying to close around his head which only made him pull you closer to his mouth. you glanced down, eyes widening when you took him in. his eyes were half closed, glazed over with lust– face glistening with your slick. he blinked, looking up to see you looking at him. you feel him smirk against you before he winked, curling his fingers enough to have you throw your head back. your stomach tightened, curling with heat– making you let out a low, whining moan.

“are you going to come again, red?” he taunted, pressing his piercing flat against your clit, holding you down when you jerk. you’re unable to answer him, nodding your head at his question. “say please.”

“p-please let me come, weno.”

“good girl.” he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly, watching as your back arches off the bed. he fills you tighten around his fingers, his name leaving your lips a second later as you reach your high. your hand wounded tightly in his hair, pulling hard enough to have him groaning against you. he stuck his tongue out, cleaning up every drop of your release off you and his hand before moving back up your body. you opened your eyes, instantly meeting his dark ones. “you’re going to ruin me red.”

instead of responded, you hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to you. your lips crashed together in a heated kiss as he closes the distance between you– chest pressed tightly together as his lips move against yours. your hands roam his body, feeling every muscle and grove before your hands meet his waistband. he lifted up slightly, helping you get his bottoms off, leaving him bare above you. your eyes glaze over his body, examining every inch of his skin. most of it was tattooed– colors and symbols marking his skin and making him even more stunning.

he moved to hover over you again, but your hands caught him, pushing him to lay on his back before you moved to straddle him. you lean down, capturing his lips again before moving down to his neck. he exposed his neck, keeping his hands tight around your waist, as he lets you bite and mark him like he did to you. you continue making your way down his neck before moving down his chest and stomach until your reach his cock, thick and throbbing– leaking against his stomach. your hand wraps around him, giving him a soft stroke that had him biting his lip, nearly bucking into your hand with need.

you lean down, taking your time as you slowly run your tongue along the underside, watching as he curses with your touch. “fuck, red.”

you smirk before taking as much of him into your mouth as you could– hand wrapping around the rest. he lets out a groan, hand wrapping in your hair. you fully expected him to guide you, but he didn’t. he let your pick the pace, pulling when your tongue swirled around him. you moan, and that alone has him nearly coming undone. you pull away from him with a small ‘pop’ before looking up at him. you kept your hand moving, squeezing at the base and watching him thrust up into your hand.

“condom?” he blinks at your question for a second before the words register. you keep your hand slowly moving as he reaches over into his nightstand, pulling out a condom. you grab it from him– him groaning when you open it with your teeth before sliding it down him.

you move up, hands braced on his shoulders as you straddled his hips. he had a teasing grin on his face that you watched falter as you sank down onto him. a low groan left his lips, along with a gasp from you. his hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as your hips met his. your breath hitched at the fill of him, loving the way he felt as you adjusted to him.

you started out slow, rolling your hips in a way that had him squeezing your sides– no doubt leaving bruises. his hands started to help guide you, his hips thrusting up at points to meet yours. you lean down, breath shaky as your lips meet his. his hand grips the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss. he felt your moves falter, thighs trembling from your efforts. his hands move, wrapping around your waist before flipping you over. your back hits the mattress– his lips pressing into yours as he thrusts into you.

“i’ve got you.” his voice quiet against your lips, moving to your neck as his pace builds into fast, desperate thrusts. “fuck, red. you feel so fucking good.”

your nails dig into his back, chest arching into his as his lips claim yours again. he kisses you messily– getting lost in pleasure like you were. your voice raw as your moans turn into soft gasps, hips rolling up to meet his. he could feel you– could tell that you were close by the way your thighs started trembling again, nails scraping down his back.

his hand reaches between you, finding your swollen clit with his fingers, circling it slowly. it was just enough to have you crying out his name as you fell over the edge. you arch into him, extremities wrapping around him tightly, clenching around him as you start to come down. his hips kept moving, starting to stutter as he feels it. your arms pull him down, clinging to him as you kiss him, and that was enough for him. he thrusted one last time with a groan against your lips as he released into the condom.

he stays still for a moment, head resting against yours as the two of you catch your breaths. his hand moves up, fingers trailing along your jaw. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay.” you nod with a soft smile. you expected things to turn awkward after this. like he would immediately want you gone. instead, you felt the opposite, smiling when he leans down to kiss you again.

he doesn’t say much after, leading you not to either. he moves away from you, taking off the condom before grabbing a towel before helping you clean up. you were confused, wondering why he wasn’t asking you to leave. he laid back down beside you, pulling you against his chest, holding you. he pulls the cover around the two of you, pressing one last kiss to your shoulder before you hear his breaths even out– signaling that he was asleep.

you allow yourself to believe that all of this meant something to him like it did to you. maybe it wasn’t just a one night stand because none of this felt like one. but then your thoughts started creeping in– your fear of commitment. you’ve had plenty of boyfriends, but you’ve always kept them at an arm's length, not even letting your brother or mother meet them. you wouldn’t be able to do that with him, and that scared you more that it should. you start to regret coming here because now you’re now going to be stuck on some guy who’s name you didn’t even know.

that thought alone sent a pain through your chest. you asked for his name, and he wouldn’t give it to you. he made his intentions clear that this wasn’t anything more than one night. you try to convince yourself that it meant nothing. he got what he wanted, and so did you. that was it.

so why did it hurt so bad when you snuck out that next morning?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━☆━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the last two weeks have been hard to say the least. every time you let your mind drift, they drifted back to your mystery man. his sharp, dark eyes. his teasing smile that seemed to never leave. the way your skin still feels like it’s on fire from where he touched, no matter how many times you scrubbed at the skin. the love bites and bruises that littered your skin took a week to disappear, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them– mind drifting back to the best night you’ve ever had before you ruined it.

a part of you felt stupid for being so hung up on someone you only knew for a few hours. it wasn’t supposed to feel like this– like a part of you was broken because you didn’t stay. leaving didn’t normally hurt like this. it didn’t normally leave a pit in your stomach that refused to go away. no matter what you did or what you told yourself, it stayed almost like it was mocking you.

you open the door to the tattoo shop where your brother works, the bell dinging and signaling your arrival. you were supposed to be meeting with him to go car shopping since you were finally settled in. the shop was quiet, empty since it was late on a tuesday afternoon. you noticed some guy sitting behind the counter, hood on sketching on a tablet with his back turned towards you.

“excuse me.” you call out, walking up to the counter. “i’m looking for fuma.”

you watch as his back tenses, confusing you. his hand stops, dropping the pen before turning around. your eyes widen, jaw dropping when you see the guy from that night staring back at you just as shocked as you were. unlike you, he quickly pulled together his act, taking his hood off before standing up– smirk back on his lips.

“didn’t think i’d see you again, red.” his tone was cocky, borderline cruel nearly making you flinch. you try to brush off the sting, matching his tone with an equally rude one.

“didn’t think you’d care, weno.”

“right.” he let out a scoff, leaning forward onto the counter. “that’s why you left, huh?”

he watched your expression flicker, hurt flashing before you covered it up. “what was i supposed to? stay? you didn’t say anything. not even your name. just held me like i was a stuffed animal– like i was convenient for you.”

“i didn’t want to mess anything up.” he spoke. “i thought if i said something, it would only push you away.”

“and i thought if i stayed, you’d push me away.”

his mouth opened like he was going to say something but was stopped when fuma walked into the room. “nicho, i see you met yn.”

his eyes widen just slightly as his gaze flickers back to you. you nod your head, finally knowing his name. it was nicholas. him and another guy owned this tattoo shop where fuma works. he was also one of fuma’s best friends. you unknowingly slept with your brother's best friend.

you blink away your pain, replacing it with a smile as you turn to your brother. “yes, he was just telling me about the shop.”

“maybe now that you’ve seen the place, you’ll finally let me tattoo you.” you roll your eyes at your brother’s antics.

“in your dreams.”

he laughs before motioning to the back. “i’m going to go grab the car. i’ll meet you out front.”

once he walked back the way he came, nicholas turned to you. “did you-”

“no.” you answer, knowing what he was going to ask. “did you?”

“no.” you nod your head, turning to leave out of the front door when he stopped you again. “did that night really mean nothing to you?”

you sigh, hand on the handle before turning to him. “it doesn’t matter if it did anymore. not only are you my brother’s boss, but you’re his friend. i’m not doing that to him. no matter how much that night meant to me.”

you left the store without another word, and you thought that would be the last you would see of nicholas, but of course the universe had other plans. and by universe, you meant fuma. he kept inviting you out with the guys, so you could get to know them. and of course, you couldn’t say no because he would ask why, and you weren’t telling him you unknowingly slept with his friend. he also introduced you to one of his friend’s k’s girlfriend, who you absolutely adored. his friends were nice, and you got along with all of them. except one– the one who refused to leave your mind.

you couldn’t stand to be anywhere close to nicholas. every time you were near him, you could feel your chest ache, the guilt of leaving him hitting you. you weren’t going to go back on your word, and that made it so much harder because he kept trying to get you to. every time no one was paying attention, there was some sort of lingering touch or hushed words that made you just want to jump into his arms. it was starting to get harder and harder to brush them off. he was making you go crazy– like you couldn’t breathe when you were around him. every time you closed your eyes you saw him. every time you saw something red, you thought of him and that nickname he only called you when no one was paying attention. it was only a matter of time before you snapped.

it was late, after hours at the shop. everyone had left, except you, nicholas, and fuma. you were helping fuma clean his station when he stepped out for a smoke because he wouldn’t do it near you since you didn’t like it. as soon as you were alone, you could feel his eyes on you, lingering until he finally spoke up.

“are you really not going to say anything to me?”

you shrug your shoulders, not looking at him. “there’s nothing for me to say.”

“red, you left before i could wake up and say anything.” you turn around, meeting his gaze and trying not to falter. you needed to be strong not only for you but for your brother. you wouldn’t hurt him, and you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

“exactly.”

you watch as his jaw clenches in anger, storming up to you from across the room– chests brushing as he looks down at you. “so that was it? just one night?”

“you and i both made it clear that it was only one night. hence the phrase one night stand.” you take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“things change.”

you nod. “they do. like the fact that you’re my brother's friend.”

“i didn’t know that, but that doesn’t change anything.” you let out a sigh as he argues with you.

“it does.” you argue back. “it makes it complicated. messy.”

“or maybe it makes it real.”

your breath hitches at his words, gazing fully into his eyes for the first time tonight. you feel a knot in your throat as you blink back tears. “why do you care so much? it was supposed to be only one night.”

“because i haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night.” he answers. “and i know you haven’t either. i know you watch when you think i’m not paying attention. staring at me– my body as you remember how good i made you feel. how real it felt. and you just want to what? forget it ever happened because it’s easier? because you’re scared?”

“you don’t know me!” you snap, tears falling– hitting your cheeks. you watch as his face drops at the sight of your tears. his hand clenches like he’s stopping himself from wiping your tears. “you’re asking me to give you something that i’ve never given to anyone before.”

“it’s okay to be scared, red. i won’t hurt you.” you almost soften at the nickname that you came to love, but you still couldn’t force yourself to go there.

“i’m not scared. i’m terrified. what if i let you in, and you leave? what if you become important to me, and you leave? i can’t– i just can’t.” you move away from him, ignoring the calling of your name as you run out of the shop– with hopes of never seeing him again.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

it’s been a week since your breakdown on nicholas. you had completely stopped tagging along with fuma much to everyone’s dismay. you kept pushing away fuma and his interrogations– burying yourself in work and your other friends to avoid him. you’ve gotten a few texts from some of the guys, begging you to come hang out with them, but you refused every time. you couldn’t let yourself be around nicholas because you don’t trust yourself to keep being able to refuse him. a part of you also thinks he actually got the message, moving on from you. you weren’t going to be able to handle that, but it was your fault. you were the one who told him to leave you alone. why were you like this? why couldn’t just give him a chance? instead, you let your fear ruin you once again.

you know you were starting to concern fuma. you had done this before– slowly drifting away from him until he nearly lost you. you could tell it was starting to scare him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him what was wrong. what if he was mad at you or judged you? you can handle anyone else doing those things, but not your brother. not the man who has taken care of you since you were a kid because your mother wasn’t able to– too wrapped up in her sorrows to care for two kids. he was the one who taught you to ride a bike. to cook. he even learned how to do makeup, so he could teach you how to do it. he was the one person who was always there for you, so you never want him to be disappointed in you. but the guilt of sleeping with nicholas, and him not knowing was making you lose sleep at night.

it was a friday evening, and fuma texted you seeing if you wanted to hang out at the shop with him and some of the guys. of course, you said no because you knew nicholas would be there. you didn’t get a response, so you expected to be alone for the evening when you heard a knock on your door. you get up, moving towards the door before opening it. there stood your brother with some alcohol and fried food– your guys go to for nights in.

you move aside, letting him in. “i thought you were hanging out with the guys.”

“got the urge to hang out with my favorite person instead.” he responded, dragging you into the living room before setting up the food. you sit next to him, curling your legs as you watch him pull food out of the bags. “i’d rather hang out with you instead.”

“i know i’m pretty awesome, but you didn’t have to do this.” you bump his shoulder before grabbing a piece of chicken.

“i wanted to.” he opened a drink for you before opening one of his own. “you’ve been acting weird lately.”

“weird?” you question.

“like before.” you went quiet at his words. you didn’t expect him to come right out and say it. you know your pasts were rough and that caused you two to go through some things, but you promised him you would never go to that dark place again.

“it’s not like that. i promise.” you reassure him. your eyes meet his, and you could tell he was trying to make sure you were telling the truth– giving you a small nod when he realized you were. “i’m just- i don’t know. going through something, and i’m trying to figure out how to get over it.”

fuma leaned over, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “let me help you, brat.”

“i don’t think you can, bear.”

“we’ll never know if you don’t tell me.” fuma pushed. you look down at your lap, picking at your hoodie before you spoke up.

“when i went to the club with the girls, i met someone.” you started to explain. “it felt like- i don’t know– like a chemical reaction. i’d never felt like that with someone before.”

“did you sleep with him?” fuma questioned.

you nodded your head– choosing not to go into detail to save you both the trauma. “it was supposed to be a one night stand. we didn’t even tell each other our names. but it didn’t feel like that. it felt like i had just found a missing piece i didn’t know i lost. but i ruined it.”

“how so?”

“i left that next morning without waking him. i wanted to stay, so bad. but i was scared that he was going to push me away, so i left before he could. and that’s not what he wanted at all.”

“he wanted you to stay?” you nod your head at his question. “so i’m assuming you ran into him again.” another nod from you. “so, what’s the isssue then?”

“i got scared, so i pushed him away.”

“why?”

“because of mom.” you answered– listening as fuma sighed out. he was fully aware of your fear of commitment because of your guys’ mother. “we watched her, bear. after dad died, she became a shell, and there wasn’t anything we could do about it. you had to step up and take care of me because i would’ve ended up like her. after watching her, i made a promise that i wouldn’t allow myself to get close to anyone, so they couldn’t hurt me like that.”

“yn–” fuma started to say, but you shook your head.

“you don’t get it. the way i feel about him is exactly the way mom felt about dad. i remember always asking her why she chose him and not understanding any of her reasons. now i do, and that terrifies me. if i let him in, and something happens, i’m not strong enough to survive that.”

silence encases the two of you while fuma processes your words. “you’re not mom. you are so much stronger than her– stronger than anyone i know.”

“he makes me feel weak.” you tell him. “but he also makes me feel things no one else has.”

“then give him a chance to prove it. it will hurt you more to live with this regret of not doing something.”

“you think i should go after him?” you ask.

fuma nods. “i think if not being with him makes you feel like this, i think it’s worth trying. after i meet him, that is.”

“you already have.” you mumble, watching as his face turns to confusion– before turning into horror.

“is it nicho?” your silence was his answer. “i knew something was going on with him. he hasn’t been acting himself the past few weeks, especially this last week.”

“i kind of blew up on him last week.” you speak up. “but i didn’t know who he was when i slept with him. you gotta believe me.”

fuma smiles at you, relieving your fear of him being mad. “i know, brat. i’m not mad. i just wish you told me sooner, so we could’ve talked about this. you know i hate it when you push me away.”

“i’m sorry.” you apologize. “i was scared you would be upset.”

fuma pulls you into his side. “upset with you? i don’t think that’s a thing. you couldn’t do anything that would make me be upset with you.”

“even being with your friend who is also your boss?” fuma nods.

“even then, brat. but you got to promise me you’ll start talking to me if something is bothering you.”

“i promise.” you smile. “so, what do i do?”

“stop running. give him a chance. i’ve known nicho for years, and he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. he’s a good guy.” fuma explained. “k has a race tomorrow, and he’s going to be there. want to tag along?”

you thought about it for a moment before nodding. “let’s do it.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━☆━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the air was thick, and you couldn’t tell if it was from your nerves of seeing nicholas again, or if it was the giant crowd that never seemed to disperse. your brother was in front of you, guiding you over to where the rest of the guys were. the music was loud– lights blinding you. but that didn’t stop you from finding him.

he was leaning back on a black car you knew belonged to k, dark hair parted showing his forehead. he was dressed like when you first met him– black jeans and a leather jacket with a white shirt that was low cut, exposing his tattoos. he was sporting a smile as he watched harua and some girl you didn’t recognize argue.

“yn!” you turn just in time to be tackled in a spine crushing hug. you let out a groan as you try to wiggle out of your capture’s arms.

“taki, let me go.”

“never.” he squeezed you, laughing when you let out a groan. “not until you promise you won’t avoid us again.”

“i wasn’t avoiding you, but i promise.” you gasp when he let you go. you push him away from you, nearly knocking him over as you moved away from him. “k, control your psycho son.”

“i will when you tell me why you haven’t been coming around.” k spoke as he walked up to you. you stilled for a moment at his question– something that he didn’t notice, but someone else did.

“k, leave her alone.” a feminine voice spoke up as k’s girlfriend made her presence known. the heavily tattooed girl had her arms crossed over her chest as she made her way to you two. “you guys keep bombarding her, and she’s going to leave again. i don’t blame you though, yn. these guys are a lot sometimes.”

“angel!”

she ignored him, turning fully towards you with a smile. “let’s go get something to drink.”

you laugh at the betrayed look on k’s face, snorting when it turned into glaring at you for taking his girl away. the two of you leave, but not before you glance at where you last saw nicholas– furrowing your brows when you couldn’t find him. you kept your eye out for him as the two of you went to get drinks– listening to her tell a story about high school when you found him. and how you wished you didn’t.

he was talking to a girl you didn’t know, laughing when she said something funny. her hand brushed his arm, lingering for a second too long for it to be innocent. she was tall, model like pretty, and covered in tattoos just like him. they looked good standing side by side, and that hurt you more than you like to admit. you wanted to mad at him but stopped yourself. you shouldn’t even be acting like this. you two weren’t anything– you made sure of it by pushing him away. and the pain in your chest watching them is why you didn’t want to get any closer to him, but there was a new part that had you still wanting him despite the fact he could hurt you.

“are you okay?” you look up to see her looking at you in concern. you smile, nodding your head.

“i’m fine. just looking for a bathroom.”

she pointed it out, and you took the chance to walk away. not just from her, but from the race itself. you didn’t realize that you were almost home but didn’t stop until you closed the door of your empty apartment– something that used to bring you comfort but now brings you sorrow. you were tired of the quiet. tired of the alone, but you didn’t know how to do otherwise. you’ve ran for so long, you don’t know how to stay still.

a low knock on the door broke you from your thoughts. you stand there, staring at the door unmoving. it wasn’t until they knocked again– harder that you moved. you unlocked the door and had just barely opened it when you saw a flash of black push their way into your apartment, shutting the door, leaving you completely alone with who you’ve been running from. you watch as nicholas blocks your exit, leaving you locked in your apartment with him. his eyes never leaving yours as he did so.

“why did you leave?”

you shrug your shoulders, trying to stop yourself from becoming defensive as it came to natural to you at this point. “that’s not my scene.”

“are you sure?” nicholas questioned, taking a step towards you. his voice level– calm but still had that pushing edge to it. “or is it because you saw me talking to someone? because you seemed completely fine until you saw her.”

you shake your head, folding your arms to stop the shaking. “no. it wasn’t about her.”

“no, it wasn’t. it was about you.” you back up when he walks forward, trying desperately to keep your distance. “you weren’t mad. you weren’t upset. you were scared.”

“stop.”

he continued, despite your beg for him to stop. “you looked hurt. like it hurt you to lose me.”

you swallow hard, hating how well he could read you. how could he know this? you two barely knew each other. “don’t-”

“you said you don’t do this.” he stopped an inch from you, arms shooting out to hold onto the couch– blocking you in. “i can be patient. i can wait as long as i have to for you. i’m not asking you to give me all of you. i’m only asking for you to stop running away from things that feel real. from me.”

“what if it is real?” your expression tightened, pushing back your tears. “what if i let it be real, and one day i wake up and it’s gone?”

his gaze softened, lifting his hand up– brushing against your cheek. you didn’t flinch away like the last time he tried to touch you. his jaw dropped when he realized you were letting him in or at least trying to. “then i’ll be right by your side telling you that i’m not going anywhere, red.”

“i don’t know how to let people in. or how to stop running.” he smiled at your honesty, something that shocked you.

“that’s okay. we have time, okay? just don’t shut me out anymore. let me prove to you that i’m not going anywhere.”

you blink at him, jaw clenching as you fought against everything you had believed in for so long. nicholas could see the fight, hoping that you would pick him. his heart dropped when you brushed his hand away from you, but that disappeared when you when you fell into his arms, wrapping your arms around him. his hand cradled your head as you rested it on his chest, other one pulling you closer to him. his lips pressed against your forehead– a silent thank you for choosing him.

his hands cupped your cheeks when you pulled back to look at him before leaning down. the kiss was soft, patient– like he was promising you he wouldn’t mess it up. your hands curled against his jacket, pulling him closer to you. it felt the same but completely different than last time. it felt like he was trying to take away all of your fears and worries, but it was okay if he couldn’t– because he was going to be there every step of the way until you weren’t.

you sighed into the kiss, lips parting when his tongue traced across them. his hands drifted, running down your sides until he was gripping your hips– pulling them flush against his. your thumb ran along his jaw, drawing a silent groan from him. he pulled away from you, resting his head against yours. “you okay, red?”

“i’m okay.” you nod, letting your hands slowly run down his chest. he watched your actions– intentions clear as day. his eyes met yours, and he couldn’t see any doubt. any fear. just want.

his mouth met yours again, pressing deeper– needier as he felt how much you wanted him. his hands slide underneath your shirt, heating up your skin as he traces along your skin. as his lips got more heated, he didn’t rush. you could tell he was going to take his time just like last time. he was going to make you feel everything he was going to give you, so you never have to question his intentions again.

his grip tightened when you leaned up to kiss him, trying so hard to apologize through your touch. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

“hey. hey.” he soothed as he saw your tears. “you didn’t do anything wrong, okay? you don’t have to be sorry.”

“but you never gave up trying to talk to me, and i pushed you away every time.”

“because you were hurt in the past.” he spoke calmly, watching as you try to blink back your tears before they fell. “fuma told us about your guy’s upbringing, and i didn’t realize the effect that had on you until the last time we talked.”

“i missed you.” you admitted quietly, watching as his breath hitched at your words.

“i missed you too.” he admitted. “every time i’m in my room, i’m just brought back to that night over and over again.”

“i shouldn’t have left. i didn’t want too.” nicholas smiles at your confession.

“i should’ve been clearer about what this was.” he told you. “this wasn’t just one night, red. never was. i wanted you that night and every night since then, and i will want you just as much tomorrow.” you push down the fear at his words, nodding your head. you were ready to try. you wanted to trust him when he said he wasn’t leaving. he leaned his forehead against yours. “and i will tell you every day until you believe me because i’m not going anywhere.”

you push forward, pulling him closer to you as you kissed him. his hand splayed across your lower back, keeping you in place. he kept the pace slow– hand guiding your head how he wanted to, tilting your head back as his lips left yours. he kissed your neck, leaving marks on your sensitive skin. your hands let go of his jacket when you feel him shrug it off before throwing it onto the couch behind you.

he kept his kisses and touches slow, but they did become more heated– setting your skin on fire. his hands trailing down to your waist. “where’s your room, red?”

“behind you.” you answer, letting out a shriek when he threw you over his shoulder just like he did last time. “i have legs, you know?” you heard him chuckle as he opened the door. you thought that was the end of it, but you jumped when you felt a sharp pain. “did you just bite my ass?”

your back landed against the mattress as he threw you off of his shoulder, but instead of crawling on top of you, he stood in between your open legs, gripping your thighs before pulling your hips to the edge of the bed. his eyes, dark and glazed with lust, trailed over you, lingering on the exposed skin where your shirt rode up. you sit up, pulling the shirt over your head before throwing it behind you. he kneels in front of you when you take your bra off as well, hands roaming your body as he attached his lips to yours. the softness from before was slowly going away– him starting to roughly grip your breasts, rolling your nipple between his fingers and smirking against your lips when you moan into him.

“tell me, red.” he spoke as he pulled away from your lips– still keeping his hands cupped to your breasts. “tell me how much you’ve been craving for me to touch you again.”

you gasp when his lips suddenly attach to your nipple, sucking harshly before biting down hard enough to have you jerk in his hold. “so bad, weno. i had to keep myself b-busy constantly or my mind would drift to you. sleep was a nightmare.”

“my poor girl.” he teased, teeth nipping at your skin– tongue running over the marks. “it’s okay though. i’ll take care of you, red.”

“please.” you almost moan out when his hands unbutton your shorts. his mouth leaves yours before he pushes you back flat on the bed, motioning for you to lift your hips. he pulls them down, leaving you exposed for him– waiting as he ran his hands along your thighs.

“look how pretty you are waiting for me.” his voice rough as he pressed kisses to your thighs, biting down and causing you to yelp when you whine at his words. “you’re practically dripping onto the bed, red. you’re that desperate for me?”

you nod your head. “yes.”

“say please.”

“please.” you beg him.

“please what?” you nearly groan out when his fingers run along your soaked slit before pulling away. his fingers glistened with your arousal before he stuck them in his mouth, shamelessly cleaning you off of him– eyes closing in pleasure.

“please touch me.”

as soon as the words left your mouth, he latched to you like a starving man. the loudest moan left your lips at the action, back arching as his tongue flicks your clit. he hums at the sound causing a whimper to leave your lips at the sensation. your hands gripped the sheets as you try to ground yourself as you became overwhelmed with pleasure.

his tongue pushed inside of you, starting out slow before speeding up. a broken moan left you when you felt his piercing against your walls. you could tell he was loving the sounds, loving unraveling you by the tightening of his hands on your thighs– pulling you closer to his mouth. his hands held you open when you tried to close your legs when he curled his tongue. he heard your broken sounds, smirking when one of them sounded like ‘more.’

he curled his tongue one last time before licking a long strip up your core. one of his hands left your thighs, running down to your soaked core. he slid his fingers through your slick before thrusting two fingers inside of you, watching you as you sharply cry out in pleasure. his eyes watched you as he moved his fingers, curling them just right– your back arching at the feeling. his gaze stayed on you while his lips circled your clit, flicking and sucking at the bud.

“weno-” you cry out as his mouth and hand worked together as he brought you closer to your high. you could feel him smirk at every sound or movement you made, like watching you brought him as much pleasure as he was giving you. he had no intentions on stopping until you were clenching around his fingers.

every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire. your back arched when his fingers curled again. “w-weno. can i please- fuck?”

“can you please what, red?” he teased, knowing exactly what you wanted. he could tell by your trembling thighs and how tightly you were clenching around his fingers that you were close. “do you want to come?”

all you could do is nod your head, way to lost in pleasure. you feel him chuckle against your skin as he kisses along your thigh. “i can feel you shaking, red. just give into me. let me know how good i make you feel.”

that was all you needed to fall over the edge. you moan out his name, not weno this time, but his actual name. he didn’t know how bad he needed to hear you moan his name until it was falling from your lips. he groaned, helping you down from your high before climbing on top of you, capturing your lips. you could feel his erection through his jeans, twitching when you groan out his name again.

your hands trail down his torso, pulling at the edge of his shirt and helping him take it off. you do the same to his bottoms before you reach from him– trying to return the favor when he stops you. “not so fast, red. no moving until i’m inside of you.”

“but-”

“no buts, baby.” he stops you, eyes dark with need. you try again, but this time he grabs your hand– intertwining your fingers. “be good, or i’ll make you beg for it.”

but he doesn’t because a second later he’s sliding into you with one smooth thrust. his hips press against yours, lips kissing your face as you feel all of the air leave your lungs at the feeling of him inside of you. you choke out a gasp, feeling overwhelmed with the feeling of him– not thinking you would ever feel it again.

“there she is.” he coos, biting the lobe of your ear as he starts to move. “there’s my girl. so tight and perfect for me.”

you cling to him as his thrusts start going deeper as he speeds up– groaning against your skin like he’s been wanting this just as much as you have. like he’s stayed up all night, going over that night over and over until you pass out from exhaustion. “weno- mhm”

“that’s it.” his lips press against yours as he felt the stinging of your nails digging into his skin. “are you finally letting go for me, red?”

you nod, or at least you think you do. it felt like a blur. that could also be from the tears wheeling in your eyes. him moving inside of you like he owns every part of you– even the parts you tried so hard to guard from him. all of your reserve was slipping away with every thrust of his hips.

“do you feel that?” he questions, feeling the exact same thing you do. “that’s real. we are real. you don’t get to run anymore.”

you swallow your sob as you pull him down to your lips. the man above you was the only thing holding you together at this point, and you felt like he knew it by how tightly his arms were holding you. he groans against your lips when you clench around him– coming completely unraveled. “nicholas.”

“i know, my girl.” he whispers, feeling the same as you. “come on. give it to me again. i know you can.”

his hips meet yours one last time, and you feel him coat your walls at the same time that you come undone. you cling to him tightly as he helps the two of you come down from your highs, breathing heavy when he finally stills. his weight not heavy but grounding on top of you as he rests his head on yours. you felt one of the tears that you had been holding hit your cheek. nicholas of course noticing before wiping it away.

“hey now.” he murmurs softly as a couple more tears fall. “don’t cry, red. we’re okay. you’re okay.”

you could hear the underlining fear in his voice– scared that he pushed you too hard. maybe even scared you were going to leave again. “we’re okay.”

“i didn’t push too hard, did i?” you shake your head at his question.

“no. it- it was perfect.”

“good. because if you try to leave me again, i’m chaining myself to you.” you laugh at his threat, feeling as he lets out a breath of relief at the sound. like he knows that you aren’t running. you weren’t going to push him away again. “all seriousness. you can’t leave me after this like some sort of fucked up fairy tale.”

your hands run through his hair, something you’ve found he likes. “i’m not going anywhere this time.”

“damn right you’re not.” he kisses the tip of your nose before moving away from you. he got you clean and comfortable before he got into bed behind you, holding you tightly– pressing light kisses to your neck as the two of you let sleep take over. “goodnight, red.”

“goodnight weno.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━☆━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

three months later

“you move one more fucking time, and i’m tattooing dumbass on you.”

“your threats turn me on, baby.”

you roll your eyes, readjusting your legs where you were straddling nicholas. he has been begging you for the last two months to teach you how to tattoo, so you could tattoo him. it took forever for you to say yes. you practiced for many hours on practice skins before you even thought about inking him– with him teaching you every step of the way. so here you were, sitting on his lap in one of the private rooms while tattooing a design the two of you came up with together.

“you’re lucky i like you.” you grumble as the buzzing of the tattoo starts up again as you continue your piece. his hands were gentle, trying not to distract you as the rested on your hips.

“it’s a good thing you do because you’re stuck with me.” you glance up at him to see him smiling down at you– no smirk or teasing in sight. and since you had the machine away from his skin, he leaned forward to kiss your cheek. “and i’m not going anywhere.”

after three months of him being by your side, not only saying that but proving it multiple times a day, you believed him. “i know.”

“i’m proud of you, red.” you keep your focus on the tattoo, but preen at his praise.

“i don’t want to stroke your impossible ego, but i wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for you. you’re very stubborn.”

he laughs at your words. “you started out cute. why did you ruin it?”

“i told you. i can’t let this ego get any bigger.”

you finish up the tattoo, cleaning it up like he taught you before climbing off of his lap. he looked at it in the mirror before turning to you. “you did so good. though i don’t expect anything less from my girl.”

he pulls you into his arms, leaning down before stealing a kiss. you pull him closer to you, not letting him pull away from you just yet. his arms wrapped around you, tucking you into his chest where you felt like you were meant to be. when you pulled away, you kissed the new tattoo– a mark on him caused by you, just like he marked you.

you didn’t realize what life could feel when you didn’t run. you don’t know why you didn’t stop sooner, but a part of you is glad you didn’t. because you may not have the man who was holding you like you were his whole world. “i didn’t believe you could make me feel like this.”

“like what?”

“safe. secure.” you answer before looking up and meeting his gaze. “and so stupidly in love with you.”

you feel him still for a beat, like he was trying to make sure you actually said that, and it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him. once he realizes you said that, he grins larger than you’ve ever seen as he brings his lips to yours, cupping your cheeks as he did so. “i love you too”

he pulls you back into him, and as his lips perfectly mold with yours, you realize something. you didn’t just stop running. you didn’t just stay. you chose him. and you weren't going anywhere unless he was by your side.

[sunnyreccs]

thank you for reblogging 🥺 i’m glad you enjoyed the fic!

apparently tumblr decided to just show me this 😅 so sorry about that But omg yes I loved it sm !!

[skinwalker-777]

Mysterious People

Synopsis~ college au where you go to a house show to finally meet your roommate's boyfriend, and are captivated by his friend with an attitude and a blood red guitar.  

Pairing~ nicholasxfem!reader 

word count~8.1k - one shot 

tags/warnings~TW: snakes. 18+ Minors DNI. smut, light bondage, rough and unprotected sex 

author’s note~ part 3 in this series! i actually went to a house show yesterday just for the sake of making sure I wrote this fic correctly, and unfortunately saw my ex talking stage. also i really want one of these snakes if you couldn't tell. anyways, i’m probably going to take a short break after this but in the meantime lmk who you guys want me to write about next. 

"You cannot think I'm going out with you wearing that," your roommate sighs, eyeing you up and down when you walk into your shared kitchen.

"This is cute!"

"Yeah, it's cute. But we're going to a house show." She crosses her arms. "Not a tea party."

You look down at your outfit. Blue jean skirt, black ballet flats, a white babydoll top. Your hair sits low on your chest in wide curls. Your makeup is subtle and natural. A safe outfit, but one of your favorites. 

"I can't change," you protest. "If I wore something like you it wouldn't be a reflection of who I truly am."

"Well I guess we can't have that," she giggles.

She's wearing a long grey tank top with cargo microshorts, tattered tights, and tall combat boots. You can almost make out her actual eye shape beneath the layers of black eyeliner and false lashes.

"Take a shot with me?" she asks, already pouring the thick clear liquid into two shot glasses. You try not to make a face when the burning liquid hits your throat. Your hand shoots out for the bottle of Sprite beside you.

"I swear it gets worse every time," you choke.

"It would probably help if we could afford top shelf stuff," she says, chasing it with a long swig of Dr. Pepper.

The half empty ten dollar handle of vodka stares at you both ominously from the counter. The liquid settles warm in your stomach and makes everything feel a little lighter, a little funnier, a little more manageable.

"Are you nervous?" you ask, poking her arm.

"I'm not nervous at all," she says matter of factly. "He'll like you. And I have a feeling you'll approve of him. Plus once you see how hot he is you'll understand me a lot better."

Tonight is the night you finally meet your roommate's boyfriend. You'd heard stories and caught the occasional male voice drifting from the kitchen at 2am, but you hadn't been formally introduced yet. All you knew was that he was in a band at your university and that he was, by your roommate's account, practically obsessed with her. You didn't even know what instrument he played or what he actually looked like, beyond the back of his head she'd posted as a soft launch on her twenty slide Instagram story.

"I'm sure he's great," you tell her, patting her shoulder.

"Who knows," she says, giving you one of her sly smiles. "Maybe you'll take a liking to one of his friends." Knowing her she's already told all of them you were coming and sent a photo of the two of you to the group chat.

"The Uber will be here in four minutes," you say, ignoring her prior comment and spritzing yourself with perfume before grabbing your purse. You take one more shot for good measure.

The vodka finds both of you somewhere between the apartment and the elevator, and by the time you pile into the backseat of the Uber everything is the funniest thing that has ever happened in the history of the world.

When the car pulls up to the curb of the run down college house, the first thing you notice is the sheer number of people crowding the street and front yard.

Your roommate navigates you both to the side gate where a fold up table is set up with two guys sitting behind it, one tall and one short.

"Do you have tickets?" they both ask before looking up. When they do, recognition flashes across both their faces immediately.

"Ahh, the esteemed guest of honor," the tall one says, smiling.

"Hey K!" your roommate beams.

"You should have seen Maki," the short one laughs. "EJ had to practically leash him he was so excited you were coming."

"Sounds like him." She laughs, slinging her arm around your shoulder. "Taki, K, this is Y/N. My roommate I told you about."

"Oh yeah!" Taki says, looking at you with genuine interest. "Cool shoes."

"Thanks," you say. "Cool piercing."

Taki, the shorter of the two, is sporting a bridge piercing that makes him look astronomically cooler considering it's the only one he has.

"He nearly cried when he got it," K says, snickering into his hand.

"Dude." Taki gives him a look.

K doesn't appear remotely apologetic. He just looks in your direction and shrugs. You can instantly clock that he’s the kind of person who wears quiet confidence. Like he wouldn’t mind if everyone in a room was watching him. 

You decide immediately that you like them. 

"Go on in," he says, nodding toward the gate. "Maki's going to combust if nobody tells him you're here soon."

The crowd is massive, buzzing students packed together, all dressed in grunge clothing and bathing in the smoke of what smells like a million cigarettes. Your roommate shoves you both through the crowd, leaving you to apologize to every person she elbows past. They don't seem to care. You cringe at the ground beneath your feet, partially muddy and dusty, and realize the ballet flats may not have been your best decision of the evening.

The stage is set up on the literal roof of the house, students filed all the way back to the rear door. Your roommate knocks three distinct times and the door practically flies open.

A guy with the biggest smile you've ever seen is standing in the doorway. He yanks you both inside before you can protest.

Your roommate is already wrapped in his arms before you've fully processed the last five minutes. She gives him a quick kiss before pulling you back to her side.

"Maki, this is Y/N. My roommate and also my best friend and also my soulmate."

"Nice to finally meet you," you say, giggling at her description. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Same here," he says, laughing. "Sometimes I forget she's dating me and not you."

"I wish," she sighs.

That earns a laugh from the rest of Maki's friends, who drift over to greet you both.

"Y/N, this is EJ," your roommate says, gesturing to the tall brown haired boy beside Maki. He's wearing a black and red crop top with a fishnet long sleeve underneath, hair spiked up, eyes lightly lined with black eyeliner. No tattoos, no piercings, but something about him radiates an uncomplicated kindness.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he says, his soft voice matching his soft features perfectly.

"Nice to meet you too." 

"That's Jo and Fuma over there working on the amp," Maki says, wrapping his arm around your roommate, who promptly shrugs him off to make a beeline for the cooler.

Jo looks in your direction giving you a quick nod. He’s wearing a black tank top with black bleach washed jeans. His whole left arm disappeared under a full sleeve of tattoos, black ink swirling from his wrist all the way up to his chest. He has the quiet, unhurried energy of someone who notices everything and comments on very little. 

Fuma is shirtless in blue jeans and black Converse, his toned back flexing as he lifts the amp into his arms. He has a short brown shag that falls slightly over his eyes.

"I would wave but my hands are full," he hollers, and disappears up the stairs.

"I'm Harua!" comes a voice from the kitchen behind you. You turn to find a shorter guy perched on the counter, burgundy hair, eyes bright with excitement. He's wearing a backwards hat and white tank top beneath a stack of silver chains and pearl necklaces. "love the outfit. Very bold in this crowd."

"Thanks!" you say, sipping the beer that your roommate shoved in your hand. "What are you doing up there?"

"Someone has to make sure the sound works," he says, gesturing to the laptop beside him. "We've got like three hundred people out there." You laugh at that. He pats the counter next to him and you hop up, watching him type away.

"Look, you can see the amp Fuma just plugged in," he says, pointing to a notification on his screen.

Before you can respond a voice booms from the stairway.

"YUMA. Did you really take my cigarettes again?"

A snicker comes from somewhere behind you. You turn to find a guy with jet black hair parted in the middle leaning against the wall, his features striking, snakebite piercings glinting in the low light. He winks at you before hollering back up the stairs.

"Shit, Nicho! I had no idea those were yours!"

The look on his face is nothing short of devilish. He extends a hand to you.

"Yuma. You're Y/N, right?"

"That's me."

"Your roommate said you were cute," he says, "but she didn't mention you were this pretty."

Before you can say anything you're interrupted by the same voice from the stairwell. This time right behind you. 

"Really? You had no idea they were mine?" the voice, closer and clearly unimpressed. "Yuma. They were in my room. In my desk drawer."

You turn around to make eye contact with the voice.

And you have to stop your jaw from dropping.

The man standing in front of the counter you and Harua are perched on is tall enough that he's practically at eye level with you even from up here. His hair is cut into a mullet, bleached blonde with dark ends. You count three eyebrow slits cut into his left brow. He's wearing an off white tattered cut off tank top, baggy grey jeans and boots similar to the ones your roommate wore out tonight. A stack of rings and jewelry crowd his fingers and wrists, and his ear is lined with piercings. You also can’t help but notice the pair of handcuffs hanging off his belt loop. 

His brown eyes are rimmed with black liner and right now those eyes are fixed on Yuma with a stare so flat and deadly you feel personally nervous on Yuma's behalf.

Then his gaze shifts to you, perched up on the counter.

"You are?"

"Nicholas, this is Y/N," Maki says.

"My roommate I told you about," your roommate adds, arms already crossed. From the look on her face he is not her favorite out of Maki's friends.

"Oh right," he says, eyes traveling briefly over your outfit. "The ensemble threw me off."

"Would you just shut up?" K says, and tosses him a pack of cigarettes from his own pocket. You don’t remember when he came back inside but you're thankful for the save. "Take these. I should quit soon anyway."

Nicholas catches them without breaking eye contact with you. Then opens the pack and rests a cigarette between his lips. 

"Got a lighter?" he asks. You can tell he's at least partially joking.

Unfortunately you do in fact have a lighter. Primarily used for candles and the occasional joint, but he doesn't need to know that. You shift on the counter and dig through your purse. Your hand emerges with a Hello Kitty Zippo lighter.

"Here," you say, completely casually.

He looks down at it sitting in your outstretched hand for a long moment.

“Cute,” he scoffs, "You're not going to light it for me?"

Oh my god what a bitch.

"No smoking inside anyway," EJ says mildly from somewhere behind him.

"Please don't steal that," you say as Nicholas plucks it from your fingers.

"Like I'd ever be caught dead using this," he quips, and disappears outside.

"That's Nicholas," your roommate says, turning to you with an expression of long suffering patience. "A real bundle of sunshine, isn't he?"

"I could feel the kindness radiating off him," you say.

The whole group laughs at that.

You continue to mingle with the group, becoming quick friends with Harua who finds you effortlessly charming. Yuma laughs a little too hard at every single one of your jokes and then proceeds to look at you with such intense yearning that you can't help but laugh directly at him. Maki and your roommate disappear around a corner and you very graciously pretend not to notice.

When you finish your first beer you look down to find a fresh one already cracked open in your hand, courtesy of Fuma, who has found a shirt somewhere between now and the last time you saw him.

Your hypothesis about EJ proves correct almost immediately. He's incredibly kind and attentive, already offering you his jacket within the first ten minutes and presenting what he calls the grand tour of the house with genuine enthusiasm. 

“We host Yuma, Maki and Nicho’s shows here a lot. The backyard is massive and the roof is the perfect place for a stage. Plus we just like helping each other out.” Ej rambles on as he walks you through the house.

The small house somehow contains nine bedrooms and when you reach the upstairs bedrooms you can't help but linger a little longer in the doorway of Nicholas’. It's cleaner than the rest. Your eyes drift to the terrarium sitting perfectly maintained on the desk, and you squint trying to make out what lives inside before EJ takes your hand and guides you back downstairs.

Jo is resting against the wall beside the stairwell and gives you a single easy nod when he sees you.

"Heard Nicho gave you a tough time," he says, the corner of his mouth pulling up.

"Nothing I can't handle," you shrug.

"I swear he's actually pretty nice," Jo says 

"He just takes a while to warm up to new people." Ej says pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Talking about me?"

Nicholas materializes beside Jo. Your Hello Kitty lighter is nowhere to be seen.

"Taki says we're on soon," he tells the other two, a satisfied smirk settling across his face. "Sold out."

Your roommate appears out of thin air with Maki at her side, slightly flushed and suspiciously happy.

"Come on!" she says, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the stairs. She stops in front of a small window at the top of the landing and pushes it open, climbs through, then turns and waves you after her.

You follow.

The night air hits you immediately. You're on the roof.

"Best seat in the house," she says, dropping onto a blanket already laid out on the flat surface. She's right. The section of roof where the stage is set up sits perfectly perpendicular to where you're both settled, an unobstructed view of everything. You look out over the crowd below, hundreds of students buzzing with anticipation, and then tilt your head back to look up at the sky. Cigarette smoke curls slowly upward and dissolves into the moonlight.

The amps flick on and a sharp ring fills the air. The crowd below erupts in anticipation.

One by one the band files out through a slightly larger window, instruments in hand. You recognize the guy stepping up to the center microphone immediately.

"Wait, that's the guy from my communication law class," you say.

"That's Heeseung," your roommate confirms. "Lead vocals. Just wait until you hear him sing."

Nicholas and Yuma settle on one side of the stage together, Yuma's black electric guitar catching the light as he straps in. Nicholas swings the strap of his blood red electric guitar over his shoulder and starts tuning without once acknowledging the crowd.

The low thrum of a bass guitar begins cutting through the noise of everyone warming up.

"Yeonjun on bass," your roommate continues. "He has a really good singing voice too." You nod along as she works her way through the lineup.

Maki settles in behind the drum kit and begins tapping his sticks lightly against the snare in a lazy warm up rhythm. A wave of screams from the front row nearly swallows everything else.

Before you can process the rest of the information Yuma launches into a guitar riff and the whole band slams into the first song like a door flying open. Heeseung steps up to the mic and takes the lead, the rest of the band filtering in around him with their instruments.

"This is their song War Cry," your roommate yells into your ear. "Jo and Yuma wrote it."

"It's really good," you holler back. "Where is everyone else?"

"Behind the scenes." She gestures toward the window they all came through. "Harua controls the sound. Jo, Taki and Fuma handle the crowd. Maki said they're all equally talented but Jo prefers to write, Fuma likes working the crowd, and Taki has really bad stage fright." She pauses. "EJ just likes to watch and K prefers dancing."

You look down into the crowd and find Fuma immediately, pressing back against a group of rowdy guys in greek letters who are edging too close to a group of girls near the front. You watch one of them get a little too handsy and get met with a clean right hook to the jaw for his trouble. Fuma shakes out his hand while the guy's friends drag him backward out of the crowd. The girls turn and thank him and Fuma goes visibly red from all the way up on the roof.

You smile to yourself.

What a crew.

The show runs for another hour and a half. Every song is more electric than the one before it.

You can't help it. Your eyes keep finding Nicholas on stage and you have to actively force them elsewhere to take in the rest of the band. He's more magnetic than you care to admit, all dedicated guitar playing and strong presence, up there like there's nobody watching or like he simply doesn't care that there are three hundred pairs of eyes on him. Either way the effect is the same.

When they finish the set the boys thank the crowd, unplug their instruments and disappear back through the window one by one. You stay on the roof with your roommate for a few minutes, dissecting the show. Below you Fuma is corralling the crowd toward the gate with practiced ease. As if he can feel both of your eyes on him he turns and waves up at you before locking the gate behind the last group.

"So?" Maki's voice startles you both. He's appeared on the roof behind you. "What did you think?"

"It was amazing!" your roommate practically launches herself at him. "You guys are so good. I've heard you practice but seeing the actual show is completely different."

"You guys really have something special," you add.

"You hear that Jojo?" Maki hollers through the window. "Y/N thinks we're special."

"I heard exactly what she said," Jo's voice drifts back from inside, "and it definitely wasn't that."

Maki leads you both back into the house. When you reach the kitchen all the boys are gathered around the island debriefing, red cups in hand.

"Hee, your voice totally cracked halfway through Go In Blind," Yuma says, barely containing himself.

"You didn't even start playing until halfway through Deer Hunter," Heeseung fires back.

"He's not wrong," Harua says mildly into his cup. He looks up immediately when you walk in. "Y/N! What did you think?"

"You guys killed it," you say. "I didn't think you had it in you."

“Pshhh very funny,” Yuma snorts.

"Can I get you anything?" EJ asks. "Another beer?"

"I'm okay," you say. "If I have another you'll all be carrying me back to my apartment."

"About that." Your roommate appears at your elbow and steers you gently away from the group. "I'm probably going to stay here tonight. I can call you an Uber. Or," she adds, with the specific smile that means she's been planning this for longer than she's letting on, "you could pick one of the guys in there who can’t stop looking at you. Or just sleep on the couch."

You genuinely contemplate it.

"I'll stay a little longer," you decide. "We'll see how I feel in an hour."

She looks entirely too pleased with herself.

You take the opportunity to navigate yourself to the upstairs bathroom. After giving yourself the usual drunken mirror pep talk you feel ready to go back downstairs and narrow in on your entertainment for the night. You're out of practice but the alcohol is helping, they all seem nice enough, and into you enough that the decision should come naturally. 

Your moment of confidence is completely shattered when you open the bathroom door and are met with those black lined brown eyes. He’s changed into a black distressed hoodie. 

"Oh, fancy seeing you here!" you say. The alcohol is definitely catching up with you. You would never have said that an hour ago. He raises one intrigued eyebrow.

"Yeah, this is actually my house," Nicholas replies. "Wouldn't you know it."

That pulls a real smile out of you before you can stop it.

He's annoying. He's smiling back. He's pretty when he smiles.

"How long were you standing out here?"

"Long enough to hear you whisper 'you got this' to yourself in the mirror."

"You were listening? Freak."

"Sorry," he says, and he's laughing but somehow it actually sounds like he means it. Like he genuinely didn't want to embarrass you.

A beat of silence settles between you in the narrow hallway.

"I was just about to go smoke," he says.

"cool," you say. "And I was just about to go downstairs."

He looks at you for a moment. You look back at him. He narrows his eyes, giving you a look that could almost translate to confusion.

"Y/N. That was me asking if you wanted to come smoke with me."

"Oh."

You contemplate it for a second. The thought of a cigarette would have disgusted you two hours ago but now, with your buzz sitting warm in your chest, the idea of a head rush and the taste of menthol sounds absolutely delightful. You also cannot internally believe this guy has taken a liking to you. You can't help but be intrigued right back.

"Fine. I'll come."

"Don't sound too excited," he snickers, and heads toward the smaller window to the roof.

He climbs out first, then turns and extends a hand to pull you through after him. The yard below is much quieter without all those bodies filling it. You look up into the early spring sky and find the stars considerably clearer than they were an hour ago. 

You settle next to each other on the blanket. An appropriate distance apart. You haven’t even looked at him, your neck craned to see as far into the night sky as possible. 

"I can't stop looking at the stars," you whisper. Almost too quietly. 

"What did you just say?" 

You sigh. The moment is ruined.

"Nothing."

"Sorry," he says. Then he pulls the cigarette pack from his pocket. "K loves these ones. Menthol slims."

You watch him pull one out and bring it to his lips.

"Are you going to have one?" he asks, tilting the pack slightly in your direction.

"Give me that," you say, plucking it from his hand. You slip one out and carefully close the box. "You better still have my lighter."

He smirks and digs into his pocket. His hand emerges with your Hello Kitty Zippo.

"I was hoping you forgot about this," he says, looking down at the small pink lighter with something close to resignation.

"I didn't peg you as a Hello Kitty fan," you say, giggling.

"I'm an incredibly mysterious guy," he says, "until you bring Hello Kitty into the picture."

Something about the way he says it completely undoes you. You dissolve into laughter, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, and he watches you with an expression caught somewhere between genuine admiration and total disbelief.

"Wow. That really got you."

"Sorry, it was funny," you say, taking a slow breath to collect yourself. "Okay. I'm ready."

He chuckles and brings the lighter to your cigarette. His eye contact is lethal. If there wasn't already enough tension sitting between the two of you on this blanket, this finishes the job entirely. He watches carefully as you take your first inhale, and only once the smoke leaves your lips does he move to light his own.

You hate to admit how much you love the buzz it gives you. It's been a while since your last cigarette and you'd forgotten about the head rush, that slow warm dizziness that rolls up from your chest and softens every edge. You truly understand in this moment how people get addicted. The combination of the cool spring air and the nickel and the lingering warmth of the alcohol in your system is doing something genuinely wonderful to your brain.

This is great, you think.

You're really liking this.

You think you want another one.

The stars look impossibly bright. The yard below is hushed and still. Somewhere inside the house you can faintly hear the boys' voices carrying through the walls and it all feels very far away from up here on this roof with the smoke curling up into the dark.

"Y/N?"

You snap back.

"Oh, what?" you say, blinking. "I was completely zoned out."

The corner of his mouth pulls up. He's watching you with that quiet, observant look you're starting to recognize as just being how his face works.

“I just asked if you smoked often.” he clarifies. 

"Not usually," you say. "I was just thinking I need to do this more often."

"If you ask me for another one I'm saying no."

"What."

"You're liking this way too much," he says, and he's actually giggling, which is not what you expected from him at all. "I cannot in good conscience offer you a second one."

"Understandable," you sigh.

A beat of silence settles between you. Nothing awkward. Just comfortable stillness, the easy kind that usually takes much longer to find with a person. You both take the last couple of drags and he puts his out against the roof, you follow suit. He looks out over the empty yard below, quiet and unhurried, like he's replaying the crowd that filled it an hour ago.

"What's in the terrarium?" you blurt out.

Your turn to ruin the moment.

You'd been wondering about it all night if you're being honest. It had been sitting in the back of your mind since EJ pulled you away from the doorway.

"How do you know about that?"

"EJ gave me the grand tour earlier."

"Yeah," he says. "He loves to show off other people's business."

"Well?"

He considers it for a moment.

"Let's just say Yuma isn't the only snake living here."

"Really?" You try very hard to contain how genuinely delighted you are by this information. "Ball python? Or is it a cornsnake?"

"Kingsnake."

"Ohh, so that's why the enclosure takes up your whole desk."

He turns to look at you. "When did you become the snake expert?"

You take a breath.

"Nicholas, I'm an incredibly pretty and mysterious person," you say, "until you bring animals into the picture."

It takes exactly one second to land.

The laugh that comes out of him is completely unfiltered, the first real one of the night, nothing calculated or cool about it. It transforms his whole face.

You decide then and there that making him laugh like that again is going to become a personal goal.

"His name is Pidan," he says, after the laughter settles.

"What does that mean?"

"Century egg. In Mandarin." He looks back out at the yard. "My mom named him because I couldn't think of anything when I got him when I turned twelve."

"Pee-dawn?" you sound out carefully.

"Yup," he says. Then he turns to look at you. "Want to meet him?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

He stands and takes your hand without making a thing of it, and you follow him back through the window into the warmth of the house. The sound of laughter drifting up from downstairs makes you smile. He leads you back around the corner to the hallway and when he pushes open his bedroom door you watch him go straight to the terrarium, scanning for Pidan with the focused patience of someone who has done this ten thousand times.

When he spots him near the back his whole face softens in a way you haven't seen from him yet tonight.

He reaches in carefully and scoops him up, and Pidan settles into his hands like he belongs there, completely unbothered. The snake has jet black scales adorning his slinky body, not an inch of him isn’t completely glossy black. Nicholas sits down on the edge of his bed and turns the snake over gently, studying him with quiet affection, momentarily forgetting entirely that you're standing in his doorway watching all of this happen.

You don't mind.

"You can sit," he says finally, glancing up.

You cross the room and sit beside him. Closer than the appropriate distance you kept on the roof.

Neither of you mention it.

You watch Pidan wind slowly around his fingers and say nothing for a moment. Sometimes silence is the right answer. 

"He likes you," Nicholas says, which doesn't make sense because Pidan hasn't looked at you once. 

"How can you tell?"

"He's showing off." You squint and watch Pidan move, catching the way his jet black scales shift and transform into an iridescent purple where the light hits them just right.

“He’s a Mexican black kingsnake right?” 

He looks at you with that expression again, the one of genuine shock and barely contained amusement, like he truly cannot figure out the person sitting next to him and finds that completely unreasonable.

"Yes,” he confirms. “I’m so confused right now.” 

“I had a reptile phase in middle school.” 

“Right,” he huffs out a breath “like every girl does.” 

"Can I hold him?"

Nicholas looks at you for a moment, assessing whether you actually mean it. Then he holds Pidan out without a word.

You pretend your heart doesn't do something embarrassing at the idea that he trusts you enough for that. You're also, if you're being completely honest, just extremely excited to hold Pidan.

Pidan winds himself slowly up your forearm, his tongue zipping in and out with quiet curiosity, tasting the air, learning you. As if he too needs to decide whether you're worth trusting before he commits. He eventually settles, navigating the length of your forearm with unhurried confidence before looping back and coming to rest in your palm.

You watch him in quiet admiration.

Nicholas watches you.

Neither of you say anything for a moment and the room holds it comfortably.

You stretch your hand out and offer Pidan back to his owner. Nicholas takes him gently and carries him back to the terrarium, something close to a smile on his face the whole time, the unselfconscious kind that comes from doing something you love without thinking about it.

After closing the terrarium he leans back against his desk, arms braced behind him.

"Listen, about earlier," he starts.

"You don't have to apologize," you interrupt. "Jo was right. You are a nice guy."

He exhales slowly, like he's slightly relieved and slightly annoyed at himself in equal measure. "I get weird around new people," he says. "And I get oddly edgy around people I find interesting."

Your heart jumps.

In your current state you do your absolute best to let that land without showing a single thing on your face. You're not entirely sure you succeed.

"So you wanted me to think you were a badass?" you say.

"It's the stupidest thing ever. I know."

"I can't say it worked," you admit, "but I did spend a solid twenty minutes wondering what I'd done to offend you. I thought maybe it really was the outfit."

"You definitely stick out like a sore thumb in this crowd," he laughs, and the way he says it makes it sound nothing like an insult.

You both go quiet at the same time.

Astronomically aware of how this looks. The two of you alone in his room, the door cracked, while you were supposed to be in the bathroom. You forgot about your roommate. You forgot about the other boys downstairs. You forgot that twenty minutes ago you could barely walk in a straight line. The only thing you seem to remember right now is the subtle warmth of him sitting beside you while he watched you fall a little bit in love with his snake.

He looks around the room awkwardly, arriving at the exact same realization, and opens his mouth to say something when the door flies open.

"Nicho have you seen—" Yuma freezes in the doorway. Takes in the scene. His eyes go wide. "Oh my god." He dramatically covers his face with both hands. "Nevermind. Totally nevermind." He walks directly into the doorframe trying to leave, recovers, and finally manages to pull the door fully shut behind him.

The stunned silence that follows lasts approximately three seconds before it dissolves into laughter.

"He's really nonchalant," you giggle.

"The smoothest out of all of us," Nicholas agrees, rubbing his temples.

Then, as if he's finally made a decision, he crosses the room and drops down onto the bed directly beside you. Closer than either of the other times you've found yourselves sitting next to each other tonight. He turns toward you, leaning back on one hand, the mattress shifting subtly under his weight.

"Y/N," he murmurs.

"Yes?" You hate how small your voice just came out. Your heart is hammering.

"Can I kiss you?"

A beat.

Then your lips are on his

The kiss is soft and undemanding. Like it was simply second nature for you both.

You couldn't deny that you'd been thinking about what it would feel like ever since you turned around and made eye contact with that deadly stare for the first time tonight.

He's surprisingly gentle. As your lips move together he doesn't fight for dominance, just lets you lead, his hand finding the space behind your ear and tipping your jaw softly to deepen the contact. Your hand snakes around the back of his neck and your fingers thread into his hair, using the grip to pull him closer.

His hand navigates to your thigh and he pulls you onto his lap in one smooth movement. You can't help but notice the way his hips rise instinctively once you're settled on top of him. He catches himself. Goes back to being incredibly respectful.

To your dismay.

Your tongue finds his without you consciously deciding to, and you notice the careful way his explores your mouth, like delicate territory he doesn't want to rush. Like he has all the time in the world and intends to use it.

You're becoming impatient.

It's not that you don't appreciate the restraint. You do. But you find yourself wondering where the guy who insulted your outfit to your face within thirty seconds of meeting you went. The one with the stack of rings and the blood red guitar.

You want to find him.

You start moving with more enthusiasm, rolling your hips down and deepening the kiss, doing your best to get a real reaction out of him. He continues to be respectful.

You pull back, you don’t say anything, just kind of look at him. 

“What's wrong?” he asks “Are you okay did I make you uncomf-”

"You know something?" you interrupt. "For someone who wears handcuffs on his jeans you're being awfully respectful right now." 

His previously soft gaze darkens, the corner of his mouth curving up. He leans forward, lips brushing your ear.

“I don’t have to be,” he murmurs.

And then, like you flipped a switch, everything changes.

His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to keep you still. His mouth is back on yours in an instant, nipping at your lower lip with enough intention to make you gasp. His hand finds your jaw, fingers curling around it firmly, holding you exactly where he wants you, making it impossible to move away from him.

Before you can say another word he flips you.

Your back meets the mattress and he's over you before you've fully registered the movement, kissing you with something that has nothing to do with careful or gentle. His free hand finds the loose fabric at your waist and travels up slowly, skimming your stomach and the curve of your ribcage until his fingers slip beneath the padding of your bra and cup your bare chest. The cold of his silver rings pressed against your bare skin making you shiver. 

The sound he makes against your lips at the contact is low and completely unguarded.

He pulls back just enough to trace kisses down your jaw and along your collarbone, unhurried and deliberate, while his fingers find the peak of your chest. You squirm instinctively beneath him. His hold tightens in response, keeping you exactly in place while he takes his time with you, his mouth and hands working together with a patience that is somehow more maddening than urgency would have been.

There he is, you think. 

You can't help the sounds that come out of you as he continues to work you up. There is nothing respectful about what he's doing now.

He holds you down against the mattress as his mouth finds the skin below your collarbone, sucking hard enough that you already know it's going to be dark by morning. Then his teeth drag slowly against the same spot, drawing out the sting, and you decide you'll worry about that tomorrow.

His fingers grasp the fabric of your top and pull it over your head, leaving you in just your bra, which is already halfway off from his previous exploration. His lips find the soft spot between your shoulder and your neck as one hand lifts your back and the other snakes around to find the clasp of your bra. 

It's gone in seconds.

He sits back and looks at you beneath him.

The pause lasts only a moment.

"Fuck," he groans, low and completely involuntary.

Then he's back on you, hips grinding between your thighs with an urgency that has abandoned all pretense of restraint. His lips find yours again and the difference is immediate and undeniable. He's hungrier now, kissing you like he's been holding something back all night and has finally stopped bothering.

Which, you're starting to think, might actually be true.

His fingers travel across your bare chest with a desperation that has nothing composed about it, digging into your skin like he's trying to stay grounded. This is the intensity you wanted from him. This is what you knew was underneath all that careful restraint.

His mouth travels back down to your collarbone and traces a slow path of kisses to the peak of your chest. His lips close around the most sensitive point and his fingers attend to the other, and you never anticipated that this alone could make your mind go this blank. You revert to something purely instinctual. You stop thinking entirely and just feel.

Desperate shaky breaths leave you before you can stop them and you feel him smile against your skin when you try to stay quiet and fail, your composure dissolving completely the moment his tongue flicks against you.

He unlatches himself and looks up at you, like he's trying to give you a moment to catch up.

Then with one hand he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it off.

His mouth returns to your skin, tracing kisses and soft bites down your stomach, moving closer and closer to where you actually want him. When he reaches your pelvis his mouth lifts from your skin and he pauses there, looking up at you from under those black lined eyes.

"Want to taste more of you," he breathes. Waiting.

It's not like you were going to say no.

"Please, Nicho," you breathe.

The nickname must do something to him because he practically rips your skirt off, scrambling to pull it down your legs with a sudden urgency that has completely abandoned the patience he showed earlier. His pupils are blown wide. His face has turned instinctively hungry in a way that makes your breath catch.

He hooks his fingers under your underwear and pulls them off in one motion, leaving you fully exposed to the cool air of his bedroom.

He grabs your hips and yanks you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself to his knees until he's eye level with your slick core. He gives you one more of those hungry looks, like he's taking a moment to appreciate exactly where he is, and then he positions himself between your legs and sweeps his tongue lazily through your folds.

Your hand flies to the back of his head immediately, fingers tangling in his hair.

He teases you, tongue brushing your most sensitive spot and then retreating just as quickly, and your grip tightens in retaliation. He's being deliberately noisy about it, the vibrations sending that knot in your stomach tightening faster and faster. You involuntarily pull him closer and he doesn't resist in the slightest, happily burying himself deeper.

Your release is barreling toward you when he plunges two fingers inside you without warning.

You decide not to think too hard about when exactly he took his rings off.

His mouth moves to the peak of your core and your vision flashes white. His fingers work in and out of you steadily, curling upward to find that spot, and your orgasm peaks all at once, shockwaves rolling through your entire body. Your hand clenches involuntarily in his hair but he doesn't flinch, staying right where he is, coaxing you through every last wave of it until your vision clears and you remember where and who you are.

And who you're with.

"I'm not done with you," he says before you've even opened your eyes.

You hear the soft thud of his pants hitting the floor. Your eyes flutter open. He's standing at the edge of the bed in just his underwear, unhooking the handcuffs from his belt loop with practiced ease, and the sight of it does something immediate to your already oversensitized system.

He's back hovering over you in seconds. Mindful of your post-orgasm haze he gently takes your wrist and latches one cuff into place, then does the same with the other, guiding your arms above your head where you lay against his mattress.

"Nicho, what—" you start.

"Shhh." His voice drops to something low and steady. "It's okay. I've got you." He meets your eyes. "If it's too much, tell me and I'll stop."

You look up at him, wrists pinned above you, his face inches from yours, those black lined eyes patient and waiting.

You don't want him to stop.

You don't want him to stop at all.

"Okay," you breathe.

Something in his expression shifts. Satisfied and certain all at once.

He kisses you again, letting you taste yourself on his mouth. He's gentle this time, tender even, a deliberate counterpoint to the fact that your wrists are pinned above your head and you can barely move. You feel him shift and watch his free hand reach down to pull his boxers off. The last barrier between you gone.

Both of you naked and tangled in his sheets while he kisses you like he has all the time in the world.

Still holding your wrists above your head with one hand his other moves to your thigh, spreading your legs open. You feel him nudge your entrance. You haven't even had the chance to see him properly, only the fleeting impression of his length pressing against you when you were grinding down on him earlier.

He nuzzles into the curve of your neck, lazily kissing the delicate skin there, whispering your name low against it, and then you feel him line himself up and push inside.

The burning stretch of it catches you completely off guard. You knew he was relatively big but he's massive, filling you in a way that steals the breath straight from your lungs. Just when you think he's done he eases in another centimeter.

"You okay?" he murmurs against your neck, still kissing you softly between the words.

"Mhm," is all you can manage.

You have never felt so full that speaking felt genuinely difficult. You're not entirely sure if that's his size or just his effect on you. Maybe both.

His rhythm starts slow. More intimate than you expected from him, easing you into the sensation of him, giving you time to adjust. His lips stay on your neck the whole time.

"You're doing so good," he whispers. "You'll be okay if I speed up, yeah?"

"please."

That's all the answer he needs.

He pulls back and slams into you and for a moment you forget your own name entirely.

You lose track of time completely. Lost in the heat of him, in the rhythm he sets, in the sounds filling the room. When he finally pulls out of you it takes a second to register what's happening before he's flipping you onto your stomach and coaxing your back into an arch with steady hands.

He pulls your cuffed wrists behind you, keeping his grip on them as he enters you again from behind. Using the handcuffs as leverage to drive deeper with every thrust, each one more devastating than the last.

He makes no effort to stay quiet, low grunts escaping with each movement. You have no idea what you sound like. You can barely hear yourself over everything else.

Your release builds rapidly and by the increasing urgency of his thrusts you can tell he's right there with you. When he repeatedly finds that spot inside you your climax hits hard and fast. He follows shortly after, hips stuttering, one final deep thrust before he spills inside you, both of you suspended for a long suspended moment before the wave finally breaks and you come down together.

He practically collapses on top of you for a moment, catching his breath, letting himself come back down to earth with you beneath him. Then he pulls out carefully and reaches for the tissue box on his dresser, cleaning you up slowly and gently while you do your best to keep your eyes open.

"How was that for you?" he asks quietly, swiping the tissue carefully over your thighs.

"It was good," you admit. "Really good."

The corner of his mouth pulls up.

He finishes with you before cleaning himself up, then disappears briefly and returns with two fresh pairs of boxers and two oversized t-shirts. He considers them for a second and hands you the softer of the two.

You pull it over your head.

It smells like him.

"Thanks," you say.

You end up sitting cross legged on his bed facing each other, him with his back against the headboard, both of you just looking at each other in the quiet of the room. Then he reaches his hand out.

"Come here," he says.

You crawl over to him and he wraps his arms around you without making a thing of it, like it's the most natural conclusion to the evening.

"So, uh," he starts. Then stops. "I don't. I don't really do that very often." He exhales. "Like I've actually never done that with someone I met the same night."

You stay quiet and let him find his words.

"What I'm trying to say is," he takes a breath, "I'd like to actually take you out sometime. I don't want you to think tonight was nothing to me." A beat. "It wasn't."

You look up at him.

"Nicho," you say, smiling. "I'd like that."

He lets out a slow breath like he'd been holding it.

The room settles back into comfortable quiet, his arms around you, his t-shirt smelling like him, the faint sounds of his friends still carrying up from downstairs somewhere far away.

"They're probably giving us hell down there," you sigh.

"It doesn't help that our only witness was Yuma," Nicholas says. "He probably told everyone he walked in on us making out just for the sake of a good story."

"You guys are really good friends, huh?"

"Yeah," he admits, and there's something genuinely fond in the way he says it. "We are."

As if on cue there's a quiet but certain knock at the door.

"Nicho?" Jo's voice, easy and unbothered as always. "Your girlfriend's roommate is looking for her."

You bite back a smile.

"She's here," Nicholas confirms, completely casual. "She's staying."

"Okay," Jo replies, just as casually, and his footsteps disappear back down the hallway without another word.

You don't remember closing your eyes.

The steady rise and fall of Nicholas' chest lulls you under slowly, the distant sound of voices and laughter floating up from downstairs wrapping around the edges of the room like a blanket. His hand travels up and down your arm in a slow, unhurried rhythm, and you feel yourself sinking further and further into the warmth of him.

You think you hear him whisper goodnight.

end

[cb97percent]

「𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚑」

❝𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢, 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕…❞

➥ Bang Chan x Reader (f) — 2.2k

➥ Stepson, Age Gap, Dark

➥ Contains: Galactic levels of horny yearning, Fifty Shades of Wrong™

➥ Reader discretion advised: See the masterlist for the full disclaimer about this project, general warnings, and request guidelines. By continuing, you accept to read at your own risk.

⚠ — (Non-exhaustive, full cw policy here): Possessiveness-induced criminal behavior

➥ Chris has been struggling with his very confusing feelings for you for years, and he has tried everything to stop it—therapy, church, week-long benders, but nothing works. He just can’t stop wanting the woman his father has married in the worst ways.

And finding your diary loosens the last remaining screw in his head.

Fuck you for coming into his life when hormones rushed in his veins instead of blood.

He knows it’s weird, thank you very much, but his mind just can’t make the connection. You’re supposed to replace his mother, but you look a lot younger than her. You’re closer to his age than you are to your new husband’s, so the best he can do is maaaybe add a “sister” after your name at public functions, but that’s it. 

He knows it’s weird that he wants to call you… other things instead. Filthy things. Things one should not call the newest member of their family.

“Is having your own place better than the dorm life, Channie?”

Channie. You’ve always called him by his middle name because Chris is legally Christopher Bang, Jr., and it’s weird to call your husband and his son by the same name. Chris doesn’t care. He likes being your Channie. He likes being your anything, actually. 

It’s killing him that he can never tell you what he really wants to be to you.

He knows it’s weird to jerk off while listening to you have sex, but nothing gets him off harder than hearing you moan his name. You may not call him that, but everybody else does! It’s still his name! On his passport and everything! 

And every time he closes his eyes, you’re under him. You’re telling him to fuck you faster. You’re telling him to suck on your clit harder. 

GOD, the number of times he has emptied his balls to the white-hot delusions of you… 

How he wishes you would sneak into his bed just once. How he longs to feel your lips around his cock. It’s okay if he’s asleep—just get him hard enough to make yourself cum. It’s okay if he doesn’t finish as long as he gets to serve you. Just use him, then throw him away. 

But come back the next night. Come back every night after that.

He sometimes gets so caught up in his fantasies about you that he loses grip of reality. That day by the pool, he was convinced you were trying to entice him on purpose, and if it weren’t for the doorbell going off at the last second, he was going to risk it all. How could he not when he saw that delicious wet stain between your legs, which clearly formed when he was walking around half-naked?

He is becoming more and more scared of himself because the things he didn’t even know he was capable of thinking, he’s thinking now. And every day he can’t touch you, he feels one step closer to acting on them one by one. Two steps closer. Inch by inch. Inch by inch.

That inch turns into a whole ass yard when Channie suddenly becomes Chris one summer, and he is the worst son in existence for being happy over his father’s brain hemorrhage that landed him in a coma. 

How can he not? He doesn’t have to hold back now when he hugs you for as long as he wants. He doesn’t have to hide it when he inhales a lungful your scent from your hair. It doesn’t matter if it’s in a hospital room; he still gets to spend all day every day with you. He is the worst son, but he’s so happy he could die. 

“You’re exhausted. Why don’t you get some sleep?” Chris suggests when you return home that evening. “I can look for the marriage certificate and bring it to the hospital.”

“I know it’s somewhere in the attic, but I really don’t remember where,” you sigh, eyelids heavier than blocks of iron. “Thank you, Chris.”

You touch his arm and give it a gentle squeeze, and only then does he become acutely aware that this is the first time you’re alone together in this house. He tries his hardest not to gasp and heads to the attic, dumbly smiling to himself as he keeps looking at his arm every once in a while. You might as well have placed a thousand kisses on it. 

After the third box he goes through with no luck, Chris decides to call it a night. As he puts the finished boxes away, he trips over a much smaller one, and the contents spill all over the dusty floor. It’s a bunch of trinkets, photos, postcards, and a thick notebook with a burgundy cover he’s never seen before.

He picks it up and opens a random page. 

I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it. Even if my brain tries to force it on me, my heart refuses to cooperate. He’s all I can think about. He’s the one I can’t live without. If I could take all my shame to the grave, I would. But I have to fight this feeling. I have to keep reminding myself that we can never be anything more than what we are now. He’s my stepson. He’s my stepson. He’s my stepson. HE’S MY STEPSON!!!

THIS IS YOUR HANDWRITING! 

Then does that…? Does that mean…?

Before he freaks the fuck out and draws a magnificently wrong conclusion, he has to be sure. He feels so weak in the knees that he sits down on the floor, hands shaking and breathing heavily. 

Chris is visiting from college. We hung out by the pool today. Ever since he started his senior year, he’s been working out so much that it physically hurts me to look at his body. I swear every stroke he took in that pool, he took it inside me. Trying to hide how wet you are when you’re in a fucking swimsuit is hell on earth.

Wait…

So he wasn’t… entirely insane. That day… You were really… So he was right. He fucking knew he was right, and this was the indisputable proof, so if that fucking doorbell did not ring, and if he actually unleashed himself on you, you were actually going to LET HIM?!!!

He flips a few more pages just for good measure, his heart now beating in his throat. 

Chris was the most handsome man at my sister’s wedding tonight, and that includes the groom. I can’t tell anymore if I’m seeing what I want to see, but I felt his eyes on me the entire time. I hope he liked my dress. I wonder if he remembers telling me that burgundy is my color. Towards the end of the night, he asked me for a dance. It was just his hand on my waist, but I haven’t been this wet in years. We were so close to each other that I can still smell his cologne on my nose. I can still feel his breath on my neck. If we danced for one more song, I was going to drag him to a corner and fucking sit on his face. He sets my soul on fire. He’s consuming my very being. I’m dreading the day he’ll bring a girlfriend home because even I don’t know what kind of a monster will come out of me. I may be getting in bed with his father, but all I think about is him. He is in my worst fantasies. Every time I moan that name, I’m calling out to him. I want him. I need him. I love him… Like crazy.

Chris only realizes he’s crying when he sees the smudged ink on the page. All his life, he’s never been so deliriously happy to the point of tears. The woman that invades his mind, riddles his body with unspeakable urges actually wants him… back?

All of a sudden, he jumps to his feet and marches to your room, having zero control over his motor skills. He doesn’t even knock on the door and just barges the fuck in.

He has depleted a lifetime’s worth of patience and doesn’t even have two seconds to waste asking if you’re decent, no.

“Chris?” you look at him, brows knit together with concern. “Did you need someth—?”

Yes. Yes, he needs your lips. He needs your body. He needs your heart. Happy now? He needs to merge your soul with his. He needs you to breathe life into him. He can’t speak, but he still manages to kiss all of that into you, and this is where you should be stopping him. Yet you aren’t.

Fuck, it’s true, isn’t it? It’s actually true.

YOU DO LOVE HIM!!!

“I know. I know it all,” he drowns your face in kisses. “I love you, too. I’ve loved you since fucking forever.”

You are suddenly bombarded with so many emotions at once that your brain switches the gear to neutral, and your autopilot kicks in. Logic doesn’t exist here. Only instincts. You no longer know who you are, what you are, where you are, or what year it is.

You completely let go and give yourself to Chris.

He feels like an extension of your body; the texture of his skin is that familiar. And it’s scorching hot just like the way it feels when he has it kissed by the sun for hours. He even glows the same. 

He’s so beautiful it makes you wanna cry.

“Wet…” he whines as he dips his fingers inside your pants. “Oh god, you are wet. For me.”

“Lick it.”

You have no idea where that came from; the words just throw themselves off your tongue. He immediately gets on his knees and drags your pants down, then closes his mouth on your pussy like he wants to swallow it in one bite. He drags his tongue all over your folds with delicious pressure, his large hands squeezing your bare hips, making you ride his face.

Oh, you just loooove that friction you get from his nose, don’t you? Look how much you’re moaning.

When he feels your legs shake on his cheeks, he suddenly stops and gets up again, carrying you to bed with terrifying ease with too much adrenaline pumping through his veins. He quickly strips and aligns his leaking cock with your quivering entrance, then whispers his one request into your ear.

“Moan my name into my ear this time,” he places a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Chris…” you breathily moan as you sink your fingertips into his broad shoulders.

And he rams himself into you with such force that you momentarily think you share the same body.

Now, this is the part where he smugly shows off.

He’s always wished you were his first, but he had to make a choice. If you were his first, then he wouldn’t be able to satisfy you like your man should. Don’t be mad at him for deciding to train for you instead. But don’t be mad. Please don’t be mad! He never felt anything for any of them, and only fucked the ones that let you moan your name. It was all for this. For this moment right here. To make your first time as memorable as he can.

Please remember this because he will until the end of his days.

“Mine… It’s mine now… Finally mine…” he keeps muttering to himself, eyes fluttering close with overdose ecstasy.

“Chris… Deeper!”

“Oh, FUCK, that’s it, baby, take it all,” he thrusts as deep as he can. “I want you to be so full of me you forget your own name.”

“Full of… you.”

“Let’s fill you up, yeah?” he maniacally smiles. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Tell me, baby.”

“I love you!!!”

His world crumbles and rebuilds in the blink of an eye as he drowns you both in the flood. You feel him gush inside you, but it feels so soothing like a warm summer rain. His body goes limp in your arms, and you let him take shelter in the haven of you, in your embrace, catching his breath with his cheek pressed on your chest.

“Chris,” you run your fingers through his hair. “What happened just now was—”

“Shh… Later. Get some sleep now,” he presses a finger on your lips and kisses your forehead. “I’ll take a quick shower, then head to the hospital. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?”

And that’s exactly what he does. He knows his father will understand that he has to do what he has to do. He was the one that always said, “I just want you to be happy, son.” 

Well, he is the thing standing in the way of his happiness, so… 

But it’s okay. He’s lived a good, long life, and some of it has even included you. He’s been asleep for a while time anyway. All Chris will do is just to make sure the sleep is permanent. Comfort is essential, so obviously he’s going to need a pillow for it. 

On his face.

The clock shows 10:03 P.M. when the doctor pronounces his father dead. Chris will remember that hour and minute for the rest of his life. Maybe this can be his new birthday from now on because today is the day he is born again.

Into the hell of euphoria with his Lilith.

❥ Reblog & drop your feedback to go pillow shopping with Chris.

「© 2026, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

📋 Permanent taglist (Form here if you wish to join): @straywrds @lee-omens-fics @skzfelixlove @surreallyst-void @krayzieestay @tirena1 @idiotmaterial @hwangjoanna @vvamp3 @tsunderelino @stayjinnie @dessianna1 @palindrome969 @unimportantweirdo @vixensss @homelessmeowmeow @birdiebangsworld @burntbang @biribarabiribbaem @compersian @wobblewobble822 @pixie-felix @deaddovesandstraykids @wanna-plan-world-domination @ariaaleelynn @littlestcheese @91dreams91things @whatifthisaintreal @akindaflora @ebnabi @hyunjinsicecream @lenfilms @lvnanazz @mylovchris @honeebee1318 @pinkflowerdream

*The blogs in red do not show up when @ ed. If you did not receive a notification, please check the visibility settings of your blog. Thank you!

[pixie-felix]

submissive and breedable | chan

chan x fem reader | 4 ss | mdni

Well this is a thing that happened 💁‍♀️ if anyone feels like sending me their favourite submissive and breedable looking pics of the others, I have notes ready to go 🥰

Taglist: @sthaay @bluesungology @chrizzztopherbang @avnche @kemkem33 @mikaelless @n-kiie @eevenus @mrsha-ang-kim @sheerfreesia007 @aasthamoon @amazinglystay @delulustardust @galaxy4489 @lil-bear08 @abby-loves-aphrodite @a-jazzy-bitch @incognitoinstigator @auroramirage @breakmeoff @beppybeesnuggets @skzlover24 @hansxcheesecake @velvetmoonlght @aliceskzfan @tsunderelino @leehyejoon1 @writteninessence @littlepotaaatosimp @omghidokyeom @thequeenofdramaqueens @hyunniesprincess @bangchansgirlsblog @kingsqueensandvagabonds

[eu1joo]

— you have me (18+) | nicholas wang

synopsis | your boyfriend confesses that he's still a virgin, and he wants you to show him how to make you feel good.

details | bf!nicholas x female!reader, non-idol au, 18+ SMUT MINORS DNI, first time (virgin!nico), dry humping, finger sucking, fingering, praise, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, pussy drunk nico, hes kind of submissive im sorry this is so self indulgent, consent because its sexy, penetration (with protection bc its sexy), aftercare bc its also sexy, gets kind of sappy in the middle but emotional maturity is also sexy, cursing, lowercase intended, not proofread

wc | 3k

from the author | had a request for "first time with nicholas" but they didnt specify whose first time >:))

you're usually pretty good at reading people, especially nicholas. his transparency is one of his most admirable qualities, since it saves you from having to guess or assume with him. if you mention eating at a restaurant he doesnt like, his nose snarls up, even if he agrees that it "sounds really good, babe." you win every card game the two of you play because his eyes might as well be mirrors designed to reveal every suit in his hand. but most importantly, and most obviously, he can't hide when he's watching you. his brows slope, lip tucked between his teeth, concentrating on every move you make. intently watching you, observing you, adoring you. nicholas knows everything about you, as if you were cut from the cloth he wove.

and you thought you knew everything about him.

"fuck, nico," you mumbled into the hot skin on the side of his neck, working your lips up and down his pulse point. you'd started the evening watching a movie, one nicholas claimed he actually wanted to watch, but ended up in the same place you normally did, with you planted firmly in his lap. he let his hands wander too far, creeping beneath your shirt or right below the waist band of your comfy pants, and you couldnt help but give him a taste of his own medicine. you gave it too him a bit too good. you groaned as he pressed your hips down, flexing his leg under your core, "need you. fuck- i need you."

you snuck your hands under the front of his tshirt, lightly dragging your nails down the sides of his torso. nicholas shuddered beneath you, chills dimpling his skin. you attached your lips back onto his neck, grazing it with your teeth. he breathed out, ragged, "you have me."

"need more," you pulled your face from the bend of his shoulder to meet his eyes, planting your hands on his chest. you could feel his heartbeat.

and that's when you saw it: that indescribable look on his face. for the first time, you werent sure what he wanted, or what he didnt. his eyes glassed over, staring through you like someone unplugged him and was scrambling to find the outlet again.

"hey," you cupped the side of his face, thumb stroking the soft skin beneath his eye. his eyes locked back onto yours, but they were more pointed, removed. you pressed, "nico, hey. is something wrong? where did you go?"

"im here," nicholas gave you a smile, but you didnt buy it. you raised your eyebrows at him, bringing your hands to his shoulders and squeezing them, grounding him. he took a deep but shaky breath, "i'm here but i'm- im nervous."

"you dont have to be nervous with me," you reminded him, "you know this."

"i-i know," nicholas tightened his grip on your waist, thumbs digging into your hips. he cast his gaze down between the two of you, lashes dusting the tops of his cheeks as he blinked, "i just... ive never..."

the one thing you didnt know about nicholas: he was a virgin.

you tried to hide the surprise on your face. you had never even considered that nico was inexperienced. he was much too confident for you to believe that. in fact, every makeout session was always initiated by him. he always had his hands on you in some capacity. but it makes sense now why he always had to go before your encounters could go any further. nicholas always had to be up early for work, or he forgot he had to drop something off at the post.

but you never complained, and you weren't about to start. you squeezed his shoulders once more, affirmingly, and started to slide off his lap, "that's okay, nico, we dont have to-"

"no," nicholas abruptly slid his hands from your hips to your ass, pulling you closer to him and a gasp from your throat. he lifted his eyes to yours, and you'd never seen them look like that- glossy, unsure yet determined. he was always so sure. his tongue swept across his bottom lip and left a sheen in its wake, "i want to. i want to so fucking bad, wanna make you feel good."

now, you've discarded your shorts and panties, and nicholas is kneeling at the foot of your bed, staring into your glistening core with wide eyes. you didnt think it was possible for his eyes to get darker, but his pupils are fully blown. his chest visibly heaves, rising and falling in anxious huffs. you want to hold him, but instead you prop yourself up on one hand, raking the other through his hair.

"please relax, nico," you say, softly, although his shoulders drop as though its a command. he gulps, steadying himself by putting his hands on your thighs. you tilt his head gently, guiding his gaze to meet yours, "i have you, remember?"

he smiles at that, leaning into your hold on him. and when you let go, he grabs your hand. quietly, he asks, "can you show me how you do it when you touch yourself?"

you breathe a laugh, not because its funny but because he is so diligent. your past partners went in blind, fingers aimlessly prodding and swiping wherever they could. nicholas wants to study you. he smiles when you do, almost eager but still holding back. you wish he would let himself go.

his hands are shaking when you bring two of his fingers to your mouth. you lay them flat on your tongue, working the muscle around his fingertips and coating them in your saliva. and you smile around them, too, when the two of you hum in unison. nicholas flexes his fingers in your mouth.

you lean back onto your elbow and guide his hand by his wrist to your core. your legs fall apart, further this time, and you press his two dripping fingers to your clit, controlling the pressure but unable to suppress your sharp gasp at the stimulation. youve dreamed about nicos fingers in your pussy, but your imagination could have never matched the rough pads of his fingers.

nicholas groans at the contact, too, gripping your thigh with his free hand. you suck air in through your teeth, as he presses, lightly, trying to follow the direction and pace of your hand. "just like that?" he asks, flickering his eyes up at you in short bursts, careful not to miss any important instruction.

"just like that, baby," you release his wrist, leaving him to try touching you on his own. you knew he'd be a fast learner, memorizing your responses. nicholas kept the light pressure you set, swirling his fingertips around your aching clit. you sighed, leaning back on your elbows, "doing so well. you're perfect."

you might even say hes doing too well for his first time, since it doesnt take him long to start dragging his fingers down your slit, teasing your entrace. you watch him smirk as you chase his fingers with your hips, aching for more. he asks, "can i?"

"mhm," is all you can manage as he slips his middle finger inside, your hips rolling against his hand, "anything you want."

knuckle after knuckle, you take him. nicholas whines, softly, as he watches his finger disappear, over and over. his breath fans over your heat, chills prickling your skin as you clench, seeking more. "add another, nico," you manage between stifled moans.

you feel the stretch of a second finger, burning only a little, but before you can even register the pleasure of his fingertips prodding that sensitive target, nicholas attaches his lips to your cunt. your hand flies to his hair, pulling him as close as possible.

"wanted your mouth for so long," you say, grinding on his tongue as his fingers work you, tipping you closer to orgasm with every pump, "wanted you- fucking shit, nico."

he's moaning more than you, and its driving you crazy. every nerve in your body is on fire, feeling the vibrations from his constant humming into your pussy in every bone. its messy, teeth grazing your clit as his tongue flattens over the expanse of you. his fingers twist and squelch, and its obscene, amplified by the way his eyes flutter closed. he doesn't even care about your reactions anymore, lost in the feeling of your walls closing in on him.

"please dont stop, baby," you plead, squeezing your thighs around his head, "im close. making me feel so, so good."

nicholas doesnt push your thighs apart, only digs his fingernails into the plush skin with the hand that isnt driving into you. with one final curl of his fingers and hum against your clit, nicholas pushes you to orgasm, white hot pleasure racking your body. you tremble under his grip, writhing as he continues to lick you through it.

and then he doesnt stop.

your pleasure forges a burning intensity, simmering into an ache as he continues drinking up everything youve given him. his tongue, stiff and pointed, prods at your sensitive entrace, licking stripes that end with a flick at your clit. he chuckles against you as your body jerks at the contact, thighs clamping tighter to push him away. but he just takes it, suckling and taunting your tender body.

you try to push his head away, repeating his name, but all he can do is mumble, "more," against your cunt. "give me one more," he begs.

it takes you reaching both hands into his hair to pull him away from you, his chin drenched in a dangerous combination of sweat, spit, and your slick. his lips are swollen and pouting until you drag yourself to the edge of the bed and connect your own to them. nicholas stands, pulling you onto your knees with him. he wastes no time opening his mouth to let your tongue swipe over his, tasting yourself. you let your mouth travel along his jaw, under his chin, down the front of his neck, and you taste yourself everywhere, humming in satisfaction.

"so, it was good?" nicholas asks, resting his hands on your hips, his thumbs indenting the crease of your thigh, "i did alright?"

"you did alright, nico," you breathe a laugh, one of pure disbelief, resting your forehead against his. your own hands wander to the waistband of his pants, "so good, i wanted to come for you again. i was really close."

nicholas bucks his hips into nothing, feeling the heat of your body near the painful tent in his pants. he whines, empty, as you run your fingertips along the front of his waistband, pulling him closer to whisper, "but i wanted to do it on your cock, baby. would you like that?"

"y-yes," nicholas moves your hand from his drawstrings to the bulge beneath them, hissing as you squeeze him, "i need you."

you pull him into you, connecting your lips once again. his mouth, even now, is soft and sweet. everything about him is. you mutter against him, "you have me."

nicholas grabs at the hem of your shirt, finally pulling it over your head. you unhook your bra and let it fall away. he's seen your boobs before, but it feels different now, more exposed. you drag his tshirt off of him, too, before your fingers hook under his waistband. you meet his eyes, watching his bare chest heave in your periphery. you place a hand over it, over his heart, and you can feel it thumping behind his ribs. nicholas smiles, if only to hide his nerves, before he whispers, "you have me."

when you nod, he takes a deep breath and places his hands over yours on his pants. together, you push both his sweatpants and his boxers to the floor, letting his cock spring free, hard and leaking. nicholas hisses as his sensitive skin makes contact with the air, bobbing angrily between you. its bigger than you imagined, but it's not unmanageable. the consensus is that nicholas is perfect in every sense, just as predicted.

"pretty," you whisper. you want to suck it. so badly, you want to wrap your lips around him until hes writhing and begging, just like he'd done to you only minutes ago. but he would never last- the wet patch on his boxers tells you that much. you reach behind you into your nightstand and pull out a tinfoil square, one youd been saving for this moment specifically.

you tear the package open, removing the rolled up latex. nicholas watches with heavy-lidded eyes and his mouth partly agape as you hood it between you. "can i?" you ask, and he nods, almost instantly, incessantly.

he chokes back a moan as you gently grip the base of his cock, only to steady it as you place the condom on the tip. he hisses the whole time youre rolling it down, holding your arm like he might fall over without it. and when youre done, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck and kiss him, slow. he relaxes into you, and you pull him forward until his hips are settling between your legs.

"thank you for trusting me," you stroke the top of his cheek with your thumb, and nicholas turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand, "i wanna make you feel good, too."

it doesnt slip your mind that this is a huge deal for the both of you, especially for your relationship. but it feels easy with him, as everything typically does. nicholas encases your hand with his, intertwining your fingers. he says, "i love you."

"i love you, too, nico," you smile, lifting your hips for him, "whenever you're ready, okay?"

nicholas eases forward but not into you. he pushes along your pussy, dragging his covered head through your folds and coating it in what's left from the head he gave you earlier. he groans from the sensation, and you crave more every time his dick bumps your clit, squeezing his hand in yours.

you feel him line up with you, guiding himself with his free hand and giving you one final squeeze of your hand before he slides in. just the tip at first, stretching you more than his two fingers in all the best ways. nicholas squeezes his eyes shut, head craned back. he grunts, breathing deep, "holy fucking shit."

as he pushes the rest of the way in, he's squeezing your hand and your hip, chanting your name until he bottoms out, filling you to the brim. he doubles over on top of you, planting a kiss on your neck, your collarbone, your chest. nicholas rocks his hips, once, then twice, only barely pulling out each time, breathing raggedly against your skin. "you're incredible," he says, choking out a breathy moan when you clench around him, "you're fucking perfect. fucking made for me."

"all yours, nico," you trail your fingertips down his shoulderblades, leaving pink lines behind from your nails, "im okay if you wanna go faster. i can take it, baby."

nicholas hears the permission and runs with it, rearing his hips back until youre almost empty and snapping them forward, filling you back up. he sets his pace, letting you feel every thrust and going so deep that his pelvis brushes your clit every other time he drives into your cunt. the contact lights you on fire.

he lets go of your hip and brings his hand to your lips, which you open without hesitation. he plunges two of his fingers deep into your mouth, swirling them around and under your tongue. nicholas hums at the feeling of your tongue tracing the bends and webs of his fingers. and when he pulls them out, theres a string of saliva connecting your mouth to your clit, where he places his spit-covered digits. this time, nicholas isn't as considerate, driven by his own innate desire. he releases your hand and grabs the bend of your knee, pulling your leg up to open you more for him. the angle, his cock drilling up into you, hitting that perfect patch over and over, fingers ferverously circling your clit- you're a mess under him, crying out with every thrust.

"i'm gonna come, nico, fuck-" you moan, gutterally as he quickens his pace, "i wanna come with you."

"i'm with you, doll," nicholas grunts, his thrusts growing sloppy, "wanna feel you come on my cock, baby. i got you."

you roll your hips to match his, letting yourself succumb to him. the pleasure hits you, harder this time, fuller. your second orgasm washes over you, and you arch up into nicholas as he lowers his face to your neck once again. his hips stutter, dick twitching inside of you as he spills into the condom. as nicholas comes, he rakes his teeth along your shoulder, biting and groaning and panting and heaving. you want to play him on repeat, feel him forever.

for a while, you lay there with him on top of you, the sweat adhering you together like paper mache. you pet his hair, twirling the curled pieces around his neck, and nicholas seems to be stuck in a loop, confessing, "you're incredible" and "mine, mine, mine."

you roll him off of you and finally get him to throw away the condom, which was a challenge since he became randomly shy after fucking you senseless. you had to promise to close your eyes while he pulled it off and walked to the trash, but when he comes back, you're all eyes. when he's close enough, you pull him back down to kiss you.

"im gonna run you a bath," he mutters against your lips. nicholas pulls back, and you're able to read every thought in his head, see all of his cards. he smiles, all the way to his eyes. he's too nice.

"nuh-uh, lets shower. i wanna shampoo your hair," you counter, dragging your nails down his chest and stomach, stopping when you hear his breath hitch,

"and then i wanna suck you off."