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𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓞𝓹𝓮𝓷 𝓓𝓸𝓸𝓻

𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐱 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Ni-ki × Reader

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): Ni-ki × Female Reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵 • 𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝑨𝑼 • 𝓥𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒎 • 𝑷𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑺𝒆𝒙

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ • Voyeurism • Masturbation • Rough Sex • Choking • Spanking • Mirror Sex • Deep Throat • Creampie • Multiple Rounds • Dirty Talk • Dom/Sub Vibes • Slight Dubcon (watching without consent)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕪, ℕ𝕚-𝕜𝕚 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕟. 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥 𝕧𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕞 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕪 𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕤 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕒 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖, 𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕞𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕖𝕩 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕤.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝑾𝑪: 𝟓𝑲

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Intense roommate smut with voyeurism, mirror sex, and desperate Ni-ki. Read at your own risk.

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠: Friends by Chase Atlantics

You and Ni-ki had been roommates for almost a year. It started as a convenient arrangement — cheap rent, good location, and he was surprisingly clean for a guy. But somewhere along the way, the tension became impossible to ignore. The way he looked at you when you walked around in shorts, the way you’d catch him staring at your lips when you spoke. Neither of you ever crossed the line.

Until tonight.

The dorm was quiet. Ni-ki was supposed to be at practice until late, so you thought you had the place to yourself. The ache between your legs had been growing all day — a deep, needy throb that your fingers alone couldn’t satisfy anymore. You needed release.

You left your bedroom door slightly ajar, too impatient to close it fully. You pulled your top off, letting it drop to the floor, your breasts exposed to the cool air. Lying back on your bed in just your panties, you spread your legs and slid your hand down.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as your fingers found your clit. You were already soaked. You circled slowly at first, then faster, dipping two fingers inside yourself with a quiet moan.

“Mm… fuck…”

On the other side of the door, Ni-ki had just gotten home early.

He froze in the hallway when he heard it — your soft, breathy moan. His hand tightened on the strap of his practice bag. He knew he should walk away. He knew he should go to his room and pretend he heard nothing.

But he couldn’t.

He quietly set his bag down and moved closer to your door. The gap was just wide enough. His breath hitched when he saw you.

You were topless, back slightly arched, one hand squeezing your breast while the other worked between your legs. Your panties were pushed to the side, fingers glistening as they moved in and out of your soaked pussy. Your eyes were closed, lips parted, soft moans spilling out.

“Shit…” Ni-ki whispered under his breath.

He was hard instantly. Painfully hard.

His hand pressed against the front of his sweatpants, palming himself as he watched. He knew it was wrong. You were his roommate. His friend. But he couldn’t look away.

He pulled his cock out, already leaking. He wrapped his hand around himself and started stroking slowly, matching the rhythm of your fingers. His eyes were glued to you — the way your breasts moved every time you breathed, how your thighs trembled, the wet sounds your fingers made.

He wanted so badly to push the door open.

He wanted to crawl onto your bed, replace your fingers with his tongue, then bury himself inside you until you were crying his name. He wanted to pin your wrists down and fuck you deep while telling you how long he’d been fantasizing about this.

But he stayed outside.

His hand moved faster on his cock, thumb brushing over the tip as he watched you get closer. Your moans were getting louder, breathier.

“Riki…” you whimpered softly, not knowing he was right there.

Hearing his name from your lips almost made him cum on the spot.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he breathed silently, stroking himself harder. His free hand pressed against the doorframe for support.

You arched your back, fingers moving faster, chasing your high. Ni-ki’s eyes darkened as he watched your body tense, your thighs shaking.

You came hard — a broken moan escaping your lips as your hips bucked against your hand. Ni-ki bit his lip to stay quiet, stroking himself through his own orgasm. Thick ropes of cum spilled over his fist as he watched you ride out your pleasure, chest heaving, nipples hard.

For a moment, the only sounds were both of you breathing heavily.

Ni-ki quickly tucked himself back into his pants, heart pounding. He quietly backed away from your door before you could open your eyes. He went straight to his room, closing the door behind him, and leaned against it, trying to catch his breath.

He looked down at his hand — still messy with his own cum.

“Fuck…” he whispered, eyes dark.

He wanted more.

He wanted you.

And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay outside that door.

The morning after felt surreal.

You woke up feeling strangely refreshed, even though you had gone to bed flushed and exhausted. You stretched in bed, still only wearing panties, and smiled a little at the memory of how hard you came last night. You had no idea Ni-ki had been standing right outside your door.

Meanwhile, Ni-ki barely slept.

He spent the entire night replaying everything in his head — the way your fingers moved inside you, how your breasts bounced when you arched your back, the soft moan of his name that left your lips. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it again. His cock stayed half-hard the whole night.

When you walked into the kitchen the next morning wearing one of his oversized hoodies (you’d stolen it weeks ago), Ni-ki froze while pouring cereal.

“Morning,” you said casually, rubbing your eyes as you reached for a glass.

“Morning…” His voice came out rougher than usual. He couldn’t stop staring at your bare thighs under the hem of his hoodie.

You didn’t notice the intensity in his gaze. You just poured yourself some orange juice and sat at the counter, scrolling on your phone like any normal morning.

But for Ni-ki, nothing felt normal anymore.

He kept replaying the sounds you made. The way your legs shook. How wet you sounded. He had to adjust himself discreetly under the counter because he was getting hard again just from looking at you.

You stretched your arms above your head, the hoodie riding up and exposing more of your thighs. Ni-ki’s jaw clenched.

*Fuck.*

He wanted to drop to his knees right there, push the hoodie up, and bury his face between your legs. He wanted to taste you for real instead of just watching.

Instead, he stayed silent.

Later that afternoon, you went to take a shower. Ni-ki told himself he wouldn’t do it again. He really tried.

But when he heard the water running, his feet moved on their own. He quietly walked to the bathroom door, which — just like last night — you hadn’t closed completely.

Through the small gap, he could see the foggy mirror and the silhouette of your body behind the shower curtain. You were humming softly, completely unaware.

Ni-ki leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. His hand slipped into his sweatpants again. He stroked himself slowly as he watched your shadow move, remembering exactly how you looked last night — topless, legs spread, fingers deep inside yourself while moaning his name.

He came quietly in his hand, biting his lip hard to stay silent, eyes never leaving the bathroom door.

When you came out of the shower twenty minutes later wearing nothing but a towel, hair wet and skin glowing, Ni-ki was sitting on the couch pretending to watch TV.

You smiled at him innocently.

“Want to order food later?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, voice slightly strained. “Sounds good.”

You had no idea that every time you walked past him, Ni-ki was fighting the urge to push you against the wall and finally touch what he had only watched.

And you had no idea how much longer he could hold himself back.

Over the past few days, something was clearly wrong with Ni-ki.

At first, you thought he was just tired from practice. But it quickly became obvious that it was more than that.

He walked strangely — stiff, almost limping sometimes, like every step hurt. When he did chores, he moved slower than usual. He dropped things. He avoided sitting too close to you on the couch. He barely looked you in the eyes.

Yesterday, you caught him staring at you while you were washing dishes. When you turned around, he looked away so fast it was suspicious. His cheeks were flushed.

“Riki, are you okay?” you asked that morning.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, voice rough, before disappearing into his room.

You brushed it off as him being in a mood.

But tonight, you came home late from work.

The apartment was dark except for the dim living room light. The moment you stepped inside, you dropped your bags.

Ni-ki was on the couch.

He was breathing heavily, almost panting, one hand gripping the cushion tightly while the other was pressed against his lap. His face was flushed red, sweat on his forehead, eyes half-closed. He looked like he was in pain.

“Riki!” You ran to him instantly, dropping to your knees in front of the couch. “What’s wrong?! Are you sick? Do you need water? Should I call someone—”

He grabbed your wrist before you could stand up.

His grip was tight. Almost desperate.

His eyes finally met yours — dark, conflicted, and burning with something you couldn’t name.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered, voice hoarse.

You froze.

“What… what do you mean?”

Ni-ki let out a shaky breath, still holding your wrist. His other hand trembled slightly as he ran it through his messy hair.

“I saw you,” he confessed quietly. “That night… when you left your door open. I came home early. I heard you moaning… and I looked.”

Your heart stopped.

“I watched you,” he continued, eyes never leaving yours. “I watched you touch yourself. Topless. Legs spread. Moaning my name. And I… I couldn’t stop watching.”

Your face burned with embarrassment, but you couldn’t move.

“I’ve been hard for days,” he admitted, voice cracking. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you. I can’t walk properly. I can’t focus on anything. I tried to jerk off but it’s not enough anymore. I keep thinking about how wet you were… how pretty you sounded…”

He swallowed hard, breathing ragged.

“I know I shouldn’t have watched. I know it’s fucked up. But I can’t stop wanting you. I’ve wanted you for months, Y/N. Not just as my roommate. As more.”

The silence was deafening.

Ni-ki’s hand was still holding your wrist, his thumb gently stroking your skin like he was afraid you’d run away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But I can’t pretend anymore. Every time you walk around in my hoodie… every time you smile at me… I lose my mind.”

He finally let go of your wrist, but his eyes stayed locked on yours — vulnerable, desperate, and full of lust.

“I’m losing control, Y/N.”

Ni-ki was shaking beneath you on the couch, eyes desperate and glassy.

“Please…” he whispered, voice cracking. “If you say no, it’s okay. I’ll go to my room. But if you can… please fuck me. I need you so bad.”

You looked at him for a long moment, heart racing, then leaned in.

“Only on one condition.”

“Anything,” he breathed.

You stood up and took his hand, pulling him toward the hallway.

“We do it in front of the mirror. And you keep your eyes on me the entire time. No hiding.”

Ni-ki’s breath hitched. He nodded quickly.

The full-length body mirror in the hallway reflected both of you as you pushed him against the wall. You pulled his shirt off, then your own, pressing your bare chest against his. His hands immediately went to your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples before pinching them gently, then harder.

You dropped to your knees and pulled his sweatpants down. His cock sprang out, painfully hard and leaking. You took him into your mouth without warning, sucking him deep until he hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck—!” Ni-ki groaned, hand gently gripping your hair. “So good… your throat feels so tight.”

You let him fuck your mouth, gagging softly as he pushed deeper. Tears pricked your eyes but you kept eye contact through the mirror beside you. He watched the reflection of his cock disappearing between your lips with dark fascination.

After a few minutes, he pulled you up and spun you around, pressing your front against the cool mirror.

“Look at yourself,” he growled in your ear.

He dropped to his knees behind you, spread your legs, and buried his face in your pussy. His tongue was aggressive — licking long stripes, sucking your clit hard, then pushing inside you. The wet, filthy sounds echoed in the hallway as he ate you out like a man starved. You moaned loudly, forehead pressed against the mirror, watching your own face contort in pleasure.

He made you cum twice with his tongue before standing up.

He wrapped one hand around your throat from behind, not squeezing too hard but enough to make your head spin, and thrust into you in one deep stroke.

“Fuck— so wet,” he groaned, eyes locked with yours in the mirror.

He started fucking you hard. Rough, deep thrusts that made your breasts bounce against the glass. His hand stayed around your throat while the other played with your nipples — pinching, rolling, tugging until you were whimpering.

“Look at me,” he demanded, eyes never leaving yours in the reflection. “Watch how pretty you look getting fucked by your roommate.”

The sex was intense and unrelenting.

He fucked you against the mirror for a long time, then turned you around, lifted one of your legs, and entered you again. He choked you lightly while kissing you messily, biting your bottom lip. Then he pulled out, made you drop to your knees again, and fucked your throat while staring down at you.

After that, he carried you to the couch and fucked you in missionary, eyes locked the entire time. He ate you out again between rounds, licking his own cum out of you before sliding back inside.

The night blurred into hours of rough, passionate sex.

He fucked you on the floor, against the wall, bent over the kitchen counter. He spanked you, choked you, sucked on your nipples until they were swollen and sensitive. Every time you got loud, he’d shove his fingers into your mouth or cover it with his palm.

Around 4 AM, after countless rounds, he had you on your back on the couch again, legs over his shoulders, fucking you deep and slow.

“I’m close again,” he panted, eyes still locked on yours.

You came together one final time, bodies trembling. He spilled deep inside you with a broken moan.

When it was finally over, Ni-ki collapsed on top of you, both of you sweaty and exhausted. He buried his face in your neck, breathing hard.

After a long silence, he whispered softly against your skin:

“Thank you…”

His voice was hoarse and vulnerable.

“Thank you for letting me have you. I’ve wanted this for so long… I didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”

He kissed your neck gently, then your jaw, then your lips — much softer than how he fucked you all night.

“I’m yours now,” he murmured. “If you’ll have me.”

You smiled tiredly and ran your fingers through his damp hair.

He stayed inside you for a while longer, holding you close as the first light of morning started to creep through the windows.

#over 18 only #kpop #ff #enhypen #enha x reader #enha #smut #fiction