WYNNE ★

maki knows that you're a virgin. it was one of the first personal things you told him about yourself.

and you've been together for a few months now. he never asked for anything from you, he never pressured you, and he made sure you knew that he's ready whenever you are.

but you can't help but feel like you were holding your relationship back. you know maki wanted to have sex—every guy did, and with him being an idol, you were sure he needs some way to release all the pent-up stress from his life.

you just can't get out of your own head. you're scared, nervous, unsure—a swirling mess of feelings you wish you could switch off.

but you trust him.

you trust him over anyone else in the whole world to be the one who takes your virginity. and you can't help but get wet at the thought of sex becoming a regular thing between you two.

you just need to ask him first.

-

maki arrived at your place after practice exhausted, an hour prior, he sent you a text letting you know he'd stop by.

it’s become a regular part of your schedule now: wanting to look ready every time you’re alone with your boyfriend. you take a shower, shave, moisturize, put on a cute set underneath your clothes in hopes that today you’ll have the courage to initiate something.

you always tell yourself that today is the day you'll ask. today is the day you'll finally make a move.

but today you're serious.

you're serious because you overheard something from maki the other day.

"yuma, don't say that." maki said quietly, glancing over at you who was asleep on the couch beside him.

"it's just a question. i mean the two of you are adorable but you seem too careful with her." he leaned back into the couch as he spoke, running a hand through his hair.

maki mirrored his movements, sighing, "it's not anything bad, it's just..." he bit his lip in thought, searching for the right words. "personal. its something you don't need to know, alright? and im not careful with her. what does that even mean." he muttered the last sentence under his breath.

"she practically eye fucks you every other minute, maki. I bet you're just scared." yuma teased, his arm stretching out to shove maki softly.

maki looked at him in disbelief. "you don't know what you're saying, yuma."

yuma laughs, "what? don't tell me you're afraid you'll finish too fast with her or something."

maki watched you with a soft look, shaking his head. "it has nothing to do with me. If it was up to me, I would've done something a long time ago." he squeezes his eyes shut, a dramatic sigh leaving him. "it goes both ways, yuma."

yuma nodded his head, "yeah, no, you're right." he reached over for the tv remote. "you have talked to her about it though, right? because maybe she wants the first word from you."

maki scratched the top of his head, shaking his head at his member.

yuma's face was one of disbelief and shock. "so you wanna fuck but you don't wanna talk. I don't understand you anymore, bro."

maki rolled his eyes, his finger coming up to him mouth. gesturing for yuma to lower his voice. "she's sleeping right there, dude. lower your voice."

you stopped listening after that, drifting back to sleep on the couch. but the conversation played over and over again in your mind for days after.

you stand anxiously in the kitchen, your mind racing as you stared at the two plates of food you've prepared while maki showered.

what feels like forever while you were alone with your own thoughts comes to an end as you heard his voice.

"are those for us?" he asked, using his head to gesture to the plates. he drops the wet hair towel on a chair before walking over to you. he smells like your citrus body wash and something darker underneath—the faint trace of his cologne and the musk of his skin that you'd know blindfolded.

you nod, smiling at him as he stood in front of you. "I'm starving, babe. you have no idea." he gives you a kiss on the cheek, picking a plate up. "come on, let's go eat."

the two of you dug in as maki told you about his day and how tiring it was.

when he looked up at you, he noticed you'd barely touched your food. his face scrunching softly in concern as he watches you take a few tiny bites, your spoon just pushing the contents around the plate.

"y/n? is everything okay?"

your eyes meet his puzzled ones. "yeah. sorry I was just thinking of something that happened in, um, class the other day."

he nods his head, thankfully buying your white lie.

the next hour continued like this—a blur of him talking and you listening, your heart thumping with a nervous rhythm.

maki has his arm wrapped around you, settling on your hip as you lean into him on the couch. the two of you watch a random youtube video on the television, the flickering light painting his face in shifting blue and shadow, making his features glow under the faint lights.

you grabbed his other hand, placing a soft kiss on his knuckles. "maki..."

he turned his head, his eyebrows knitting together. "yeah?" his eyes never leaving yours.

you slipped out of his hold, moving to straddle his hips, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the warm skin of his neck. your tongue darting out just barely. you'd love to mark him there, wanting to see deep red and purple bruises bloom against his pale skin.

his hands settled on your waist, stretching his neck to give you more room.

"maki, I think... " you pause your movements, chewing on your bottom lip. "i think i'm ready."

his eyes widened, his dark pupils expanding as shock, surprise, and raw excitement warred across his features. "a-are you sure?" he tried to suppress it, not wanting to seem too eager, but the slight tremor in his hands gave him away,

you nodded your head, "I've been thinking about it a lot." you press a kiss to his jaw, moving towards his ear. "i've been thinking about you a lot."

he sucked in a sharp breath, his hands that were on your body fidgeting. he couldn't believe this was happening.

the air around you shifts.

maki manages to calm his brain, gently, he cups your face in his hands, thumbs stroking your cheekbones. he studies you like he’s memorizing the moment. "you’re sure?" he asks again, quieter this time.

"yes," you whisper. "I want you to."

Something in his expression cracks—like his restraint giving way to something hungrier. something deeper. he pushes you gently down against the cushions, climbing over you, staring into your eyes with a heavy look—need, lust, and careful restraint all warring for dominance.

he climbed on top of you, staring into your eyes deeply. a heavy look rested in his eyes, a mixture of need, lust and restraint.

"oh yeah?" his lips hovered over yours as he spoke. "what do you think about when you're alone?"

you gasp, feeling his cold hands slide underneath your shirt, fingers leaving goosebumps in their trail. you can't help but notice the way the veins stood out against his skin, how his own two hands could swallow your waist.

you whimpered when he stopped his hands right under your bra, his hands pushing the shirt up, silently asking you to take it off.

and you do. you hurriedly tugged it off of your body, laying back down on your back as your chest heaved. you felt shy under his gaze, not used to being so exposed to him in such an intimate setting.

but you pushed that side of you away, your hands sliding down to tug off your shorts as well. leaving you in the pretty set you wore just for him.

you took in a deep breath, calming your nerves. "I..." your eyes dart all over his face, trying to read him from the outside. "I always think about the way your hands would feel on me. how you would touch me if I told you that you could."

as you spoke, his hands began crossing your body. going from your waist down to your hips to your legs, a phantom touch left in its wake. the rough calluses on his palms created a delicious friction against your smooth skin.

"mhm, what else, baby."

you closed your eyes, trying your best to gather your thoughts into sentences. but god, was it hard with the affect that his touch had on you.

"the way you'd stretch me out with your fingers before we did anything else," you shut your eyes tightly, chest heaving as you imagined everything.

maki's hands were huge. the amount of times you fantasized about them was shameful. the way they'd look and feel wrapped around your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure as he pounded into with no remorse.

his fingers curled around the fabric of your panties, slowly dragging the thin piece of clothing off your body before discarding it on the floor.

he pressed a kiss against your bare thigh, resting his forehead there for a moment. he needed to recollect himself before he did too much too soon.

"maki..." you mumbled, you felt an unignorable ache in between your legs.

you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand to nest in between your thighs. your hips bucked up, desperate for some friction.

your grip on him remained tight, pathetic whines and moans leaving you. "please, maki, touch me. do something." your watery eyes stared at him in need.

"fuck," he muttered, his breathing getting heavier as he nodded his head. one of his hands pressed against your thigh, pushing it open for him.

the sight of your glistening folds made his head spin. he couldn't believe he was looking at you so bare and vulnerable for him.

"look at me," he says, voice rough and commanding. "don't close your eyes. I want to see you."

he brought his fingers over to your entrance, swashing them in the warm wetness that flooded out of you.

he really wanted to taste you. but he'd wait for that, he wanted nothing more than to see how you would look, your body shaking and trembling as high pitched moans flew out your pretty mouth. or maybe your moans would be deeper, erupting from your chest as your head was knocked back against the pillows.

his cock ached at the thought.

his lubricated fingers traveled up to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it.

a choked sob escaped your lips, your back arching off the couch as a jolt of pleasure shot through you. his touch confident, deliberate, and each circle he drew on your clit sending another wave of heat through your already burning body.

he watched you, his dark eyes intense and focused, drinking in every twitch of your muscles, every gasp that fell from your mouth.

"maki," you whimpered, your hands fisting in the cushions beside your head. "please…"

your hips twitched, knocking your head back as you whined.

god, he loved hearing you beg for him. his cock jumping at every sound escaping your lips. he could already feel a wet patch on his boxers sticking to the tip of his swollen cock.

your fingers reached down, wrapping around his hand as you pulled them away.

"maki, please." your glossy eyes stared into his. "I need more, I need to feel you."

his breath hitched at your words, his body stilling. he needed to take a second, he had to remind himself to be patient with you. to be gentle. but now he's rethinking if that's what you really want from him.

"okay," he said quietly, "I'll give you more, baby, but I need to open you up a bit more f'me, yeah?"

with a pout, you nodded your head. you felt him shift his weight as one slick finger slowly pressed into your entrance. the stretch a dull pressure that bloomed into a deep, throbbing ache as he worked it deeper, his eyes locked on yours, watching for any sign of discomfort.

"relax for me, pretty," he murmured, his other hand stroking your hip soothingly. "breathe."

you tried, you really did, but it was all overwhelming. his finger inside you moving at a slow, shallow thrusting motion that had your toes curling. he added a second finger, the stretch a pleasurable burn that had your head lolling back when he curled his fingers inside you.

"oh god," you cried out, your body arching onto his. "right there, maki—"

"here?" He did it again, rubbing against that sensitive bundle of nerves with a steady rhythm that had you climbing higher and higher. his thumb found your clit, rubbing in sync with the thrusts of his fingers.

"maki, I'm gonna… I'm gonna cum," you choked out, your eyes rolling back as the coil in your stomach tightened.

"cum for me," he urged, his voice strained. "cum on my fingers. I want to feel it." his voice whispered right beside your ear, his hips just barely rutting against your thigh.

with a loud moan, your orgasm crashed over you, waves of pleasure crashing over you. your inner walls clenching around his fingers as your body trembled uncontrollably as he worked you through it, prolonging the high until you were a whimpering and begging for him to stop.

he slowly withdrew his fingers, and you watched, dazed, as he brought them to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he licked them clean.

"you taste so much better than I imagined," he said, his voice husky. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. you moaned against his lips as you could faintly taste yourself on his tongue.

he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. "a-are you still sure you wanna continue?" he asked, his breathing ragged.

you reach between your bodies, palming the hard length of his cock through his sweatpants. he hissed, his hips jerking into your touch as he muttered a curse.

"yes," you whispered, your voice firm. "I'm sure, ki."

he stood up, stripping off his shirt and pants in a few quick movements, and your breath caught at the sight of him. he was all lean muscle and smooth skin, his cock standing at his fullest, a bit dark hair growing at the base. the tip was flushed, already beading with precum. he grabbed a condom from his wallet, rolling it on with practiced ease before settling back between your legs.

he positioned himself at your entrance, his gaze locked with yours. "I'll go slow," he promised, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll do my best, just tell me if you need me to stop."

you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for another kiss as he slowly began to push inside you. the stretch was more intense this time, a sharp and unpleasant feeling that had you tensing up.

his brows furrowed at the sight of your face, his heart clenching.

"I know, I'm sorry, baby," he murmured against your lips, pausing to let you adjust. "just breathe and relax yourself."

you forced yourself to relax, breathing through the discomfort, and as he began to move again, the pain slowly began to fade, replaced by a deep, full feeling that was strangely pleasurable.

he was watching you so intently, his movements slow and careful, until he was fully sheathed inside you.

"how do you feel?" he asked, his voice gentle as he waited for your response.

your hips twitched on their own accord, causing you to bite back a moan. "it feels way better now." a small smile on your face as he brought your hand to his mouth, placing a small kiss.

he began to move. a slow, shallow rhythm that gradually built itself up. with each thrust, the pleasure intensified, the burning sensation completely gone and replaced by a deep, throbbing ache that had you craving more. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

The sounds of you two filled the room—the slap of skin on skin, your breathless moans and his deep groans and curses.

he shifted his angle, his cock brushing against that sensitive spot inside you, and you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Right there?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you lose yourself on the pleasure he was giving you.

you dumbly nodded your head, barely getting words out of your mouth. "yes! yes, fuck, ki, it feels so good."

his hips snapped against yours, the coil in your stomach tightening again, and you could feel your second orgasm building, more inrense than the last.

"baby," you cried out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. "I'm close. im gonna cum again."

"Cum with me, baby," he urged, his voice ragged. "yeah? you gonna cum all around my big cock?"

again you nodded, mind fuzzy as you moaned.

his words sent you over the edge, and with a final thrust, you shattered. your orgasm ripping through you as he followed you over a moment later with a hoarse cry, his body shuddering against yours. his head dropped to your shoulder as he filled the condom with his release.

he collapsed against you, his body heavy and spent, his face still buried in the crook of your neck. you held him close, your bodies slick with sweat and your cum. even your hearts beating in a frantic, synchronized rhythm.

after a long moment, he lifted his head, his eyes soft and full of an emotion that made your chest ache. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

you pulled him down for a tender kiss. "I love you too," you whispered against his lips. "thank you for being so patient."

his smile made your heart skip a beat. "Anything for you," he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Always."

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

𐙚 mean dom!nicho who, after you two arrived at your apartment, pushed you up against the wall. practically eating at your mouth.

"you think you're funny, huh?" mean dom!nicho says in between kisses, roughly tugging your shirt over your head.

𐙚 mean dom!nicho who, after getting you two to the bedroom, pushes you right onto your back. shoving your pants and panties down too.

"this is what you wanted, right? you got so used to me being nice that you just wanna be fucked dumb now." he scoffs, lining himself up with your cunt.

𐙚 mean dom!nicho who doesn't stop, who doesn't even slow down. the whole time, like he's doing his best to break you.

𐙚 mean dom!nicho who knows your sobs and whimpers aren't from the pain. that's why he's ignoring them.

"what's wrong, baby? what's gotten you so shaken up?" he laughs right into your ear, hands gripping onto your quivering thighs.

𐙚 mean dom!nicho who starts grunting with the closer he gets. he's already held himself out for three of your own orgasms. he couldn't hold it in himself anymore.

𐙚 mean dom!nicho who pushes his hips flush against yours when he comes, moaning out a, "don't fucking move." right into your neck.

𐙚 mean dom!nicho pulls out of you slowly, running his palms all along your sides, presses kisses to your neck and shoulder.

"I'm sorry, baby..." he whispers, voice full of guilt when he sees the red hand marks on your hips, and how your body is still slightly shaking.

𐙚 mean dom!nicho whose eyes widen when you scold him gently. telling him to, "not fucking apologize" for, probably, the best orgasm you've had.

𐙚 mean dom!nicho who carries you to the bathroom afterwards, soaping your hair and body, taking care of you while giving you occasional kisses.

****

maki stood by the window with his back to you, hoodie sleeves pushed up, phone still in his hand even though the screen had gone dark. the post-concert high had crashed hard. you’d watched from the side again tonight—watched the way he grinned bright and confidently as he unzipped his jacket during the rush choreo to show off his toned abs and sculpted pecks. the crowd screamed, of course they did. 

but it wasn’t the deafening, feral reaction he’d clearly been hoping for. not the way it sometimes was for the others. you could see it land wrong the second it happened. the disappointment had curdled into something sharper.

he’d been quiet the whole ride back. then one sharp comment turned into another. then another.

“you didn’t even say anything about it,” he muttered now, voice low and rough. “not one thing. you just… smiled like it was nothing.”

you sat on the edge of the bed, heart twisting. “maki, i smiled because i was proud of you. because you looked good. i didn’t know you needed—”

“i didn’t need anything,” he cut in, but it came out too fast, too defensive. he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. 

you’d tried to laugh it off at first. told him he was being ridiculous. that you were literally there for him, eyes only on him the whole time. despite your reassurances he was already spiraling.

the words hung there, ugly and raw. you knew he didn’t mean to aim them at you. this was old insecurity talking — the quiet, constant pressure he put on himself to be enough, to be wanted in the way he saw others wanted. but it still stung.

minutes stretched. then you heard the soft clink of a glass set down too hard.

“i’m sorry,” he said suddenly. his voice was low, rough. not the bright, teasing maki everyone else knew. this was the one only you got to see—the one who still sometimes felt like the maknae trying to prove he wasn’t 15 anymore.

you stood up slowly and crossed the small space between you. when you touched his back, he didn’t pull away, but he didn’t lean into it either. 

“i didn’t mean to take it out on you,” he whispered, jaw tight. “i just… i worked so hard on that. i just thought… i don’t know. maybe if i showed more, people would finally see me as hot instead of just cute. or whatever the fuck they think i am.” his laugh was bitter. “guess it didn’t work.”

“stupid, right? i know it’s stupid.”

your heart twisted. you turned his body just enough that you could see the faint flush still lingering on his cheeks from embarrassment and leftover stage adrenaline. maki was tall, all long limbs and loud strength, but right now he looked smaller than usual.

“it’s not stupid,” you said softly. “i get it. you put yourself out there and it didn’t feel like enough. that hurts.” you reached up, brushing his hair back so you could see his eyes. they were guarded, vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache. “but maki… you’re wrong. you’re so wrong.”

he swallowed hard, gaze flicking away. “you don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.”

“i’m not.” your fingers trailed down to his jaw, thumb stroking the sharp line there. “i’m saying it because it’s true. every single time you move on stage, i can’t look away. not because of some choreo or abs—because it’s you. the way you smile when you hit a move perfectly. the way your shoulders flex when you’re focused. the little smirk you get when you know you’re killing it.” you stepped closer, pressing your body against his. he didn’t pull away. “and yeah… when you lifted your shirt tonight? i was throbbing, maki. i wanted to drag you off stage right then.”

his breath hitched. the guarded look cracked and a small smile fell upon his face.

you leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “you’re the sexiest man i’ve ever seen. and i’m going to prove it to you until you believe me.”

the kiss started slow—almost hesitant, like he was still waiting for you to change your mind. but when you deepened it, sliding your tongue against his, he groaned low in his throat and finally let go. hands that had been clenched at his sides came up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. he was already half-hard, the evidence pressing insistently against your stomach.

you walked him backward toward the bedroom without breaking the kiss, fingers slipping under his hoodie to trace the warm skin of his abdomen—the very thing that had started all of this. he shivered when your nails grazed the defined lines there.

“fuck,” he whispered against your mouth. “i love when you touch me like that.”

in the bedroom, clothes came off in layers. you took your time with his hoodie, pushing it up slowly, kissing every inch of skin you revealed. his chest, his ribs, the faint trail of hair leading down. when you dropped to your knees and mouthed at the waistband of his sweats, he let out a shaky breath, fingers threading gently through your hair.

“baby—you don’t have to—”

“i want to.” you looked up at him, eyes locked as you freed his cock. he was gorgeous—long, flushed dark at the tip, already leaking. you licked a slow stripe up the underside and watched his head fall back, throat exposed. “i want to worship you, maki. let me.”

you started slow, savoring every reaction.

your tongue traced the thick vein along the underside, then circled the swollen head, tasting the salty bead of precum that had already gathered. you took just the tip into your mouth at first, sucking gently while your hand stroked the rest of his length in slow, firm twists. maki’s breath stuttered above you. one of his hands stayed tangled in your hair, not pushing, just holding on like he needed the anchor.

“shit… your mouth feels so good,” he breathed, voice already rough.

you hummed around him in answer and took him deeper, letting your throat relax as you sank down until your nose brushed the soft skin at the base. he was thick enough to stretch your lips, heavy on your tongue. you held there for a moment, swallowing around him, then pulled back with a wet drag of your lips before sinking down again. your free hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently, massaging with your fingertips in the way you knew made his thighs tense.

maki was loud tonight in a way he rarely let himself be—soft curses slipping out between broken praises.

“fuck— just like that… baby, your tongue— god, you’re so good to me…”

you set a steady rhythm, bobbing your head while your hand worked what your mouth couldn’t take. every time you hollowed your cheeks he groaned. when you pulled off to lick slow, messy stripes along the shaft, letting your saliva drip down so your fist could glide easier, his hips twitched forward like he couldn’t help it.

“sorry— fuck, sorry, i’m trying not to—”

“don’t hold back,” you murmured against the head, lips brushing him with every word. “i want all of it.”

you took him deep again, faster this time, letting the wet sounds fill the quiet room. your hand twisted on every upstroke, thumb rubbing just under the head on the way down. the hand on his balls moved lower, pressing gently behind them, and maki’s whole body jerked.

“oh my god— baby, i’m— your mouth is driving me crazy…”

his hips started rolling in shallow thrusts, fucking your mouth in careful little movements. you relaxed your throat and let him, looking up at him through your lashes the whole time. the sight of him—head tipped back, mouth open, that pretty flush spreading down his chest—made heat pool between your legs.

when his thighs began to tremble and his grip in your hair tightened, you didn’t pull away. you kept going, sucking harder, tongue working the underside with every stroke.

“baby— i’m gonna—fuck, i’m gonna come—”

you hummed in encouragement and took him as deep as you could. maki’s moan broke in the middle as he came, hot and thick, spilling down your throat in strong pulses. you swallowed around him, eyes watering slightly but never breaking eye contact, taking every drop until he was trembling. only when he gently tugged at your hair did you pull off, licking him clean with soft, slow drags of your tongue.

he was breathing hard, chest heaving, looking down at you like you’d just ruined him in the best way.

you wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb and smiled up at him, voice a little hoarse. “you taste so good.”

maki let out a shaky laugh, still catching his breath. “you are crazy.” he pulled you up into his arms and kissed you deep and messy, tasting himself on your tongue. when he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, eyes dark and wanting.

you humed, smiling up at him. “crazy about you—”

“come on,” he whispered, voice rough and honest. “need to be inside my favorite girl,”

you didn’t make him wait.

you pushed him back onto the bed and climbed into his lap, straddling his hips.

“no, i wanna be on top.” he said as he flipped you beneath him easily.

maki hovered over you, his tall frame blotting out everything else. the flip had been so easy—big strong arms and core control turning you onto your back like you weighed nothing. it made heat lick up your spine. his cock, still slick from your mouth and his first orgasm, dragged heavy and hot against your inner thigh as he settled between your legs, knees bracketing your hips.

he was breathing hard, eyes dark and a little wild, the post-fight flush still high on his cheekbones. that pretty mouth was parted, and for a second he just looked at you like he was trying to believe this was real.

“you really want me like this?” he asked, voice low and rough. one hand slid down your side, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. “after i was such an asshole?”

you lifted your hips so he could yank them down and off. “i want you exactly like this. angry and sweet and so fucking hot you don’t even know what to do with it.” 

you reached up, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “i’ve been wet since go in blind, y’know…then you lifted your shirt on stage during rush, god maki. i couldn’t stop staring at these.” your palms smoothed down his chest, over the firm swell of his pecs, then lower, nails dragging lightly across the ridges of his abs. “wanted to drag you offstage and get on my knees right there.”

a broken sound left his throat. he kicked his own remaining clothes the rest of the way off, then braced himself on one forearm so he could watch your face while his free hand slid between your thighs. two fingers stroked through your folds, gathering the slick that had already gathered there, and he groaned when he felt how soaked you were.

“fuck… all this for me?” he circled your clit once, slow and deliberate, then pushed two fingers inside you without warning. the stretch of his long fingers made your back arch. “say it again. tell me i’m hot.”

“you’re so fucking hot,” you gasped, rocking down onto his hand. “not cute anymore. hot. so fucking hot, ki. the way your body moves, the way your abs flex when you dance, the way you looked tonight when you showed them off—i wanted to climb you like a tree, maki. still do.”

he curled his fingers just right and your whole body jerked. his eyes lit up at the reaction, some of the old insecurity cracking under the weight of your praise. he pumped his fingers a few more times, scissoring them, stretching you open, then pulled them free and lined himself up.

the blunt head of his thick cock nudged against your entrance. he pushed in slow, inch by careful inch, watching every micro-expression on your face like it was the most important thing in the world. the stretch burned, but in the best way. his lock long and thick and perfectly snug against your walls. when his hips finally met yours, he stayed buried deep, forehead dropping to yours.

“god, you feel so good,” he whispered. “so tight around me. like you were made to take me.”

you wrapped your legs around his waist and rolled your hips, urging him to move. “mm maybe i was, my perfect boy. wanna show me how much i’m yours…?”

that was all it took.

maki drew back and thrust in deep, the force of it punching a moan out of both of you. he set a rhythm that was all pent-up frustration and need—deep, rolling strokes that ground the base of his cock against your clit on every downstroke. the muscles in his arms flexed where he held himself up. his abs tightened and released with every snap of his hips. you couldn’t stop touching him—palms sliding over his chest, down his slicked abs, feeling every shift and flex as he fucked you.

“look at you,” you breathed, voice shaking. “so fucking beautiful like this. my strong, sexy boy. everyone in that crowd should’ve been screaming for you tonight. i was. i still am.”

he made a wounded, desperate sound and dropped to his elbows, burying his face in your neck for a second before pulling back to look at you again. his thrusts got harder, faster, the headboard starting to knock softly against the wall. one of his hands slid under your thigh, hiking your leg higher so he could drive even deeper.

“say it again,” he panted. “tell me i’m hot while i’m inside you.”

“you’re the hottest thing i’ve ever seen,” you moaned, nails digging into his back. “love watching these abs work while you fuck me. love how big you feel. god you are so fucking—hot—mmgh—”

maki groaned like the words had physically hit him. he shifted his angle, grinding right against that gummy spot inside you with each powerful thrust—his free hand slipping between your bodies again to rub tight, fast circles over your clit.

“come on, baby,” he urged, voice wrecked. “come for me. let me feel it. i need it—need to know i can make you feel good after i was such a dick—”

the combination of his cock pounding into you, his fingers on your clit, and the raw honesty in his voice tipped you over fast. your orgasm crashed through you in a white-hot rush, walls clenching hard around him, thighs shaking where they were locked around his waist. you cried out his name, back bowing off the bed.

maki fucked you through it, pace turning a little sloppy as your body milked him. “fuck— fuck, that’s it— so good, baby, so fucking good—”

he lasted only a few more thrusts before he buried himself to the hilt and came with a broken moan, pulsing hot and deep inside you. his whole body trembled with it, arms giving out so he half-collapsed on top of you, face tucked into your neck.

for a long minute the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the distant hum of the city outside the window.

eventually maki lifted his head. his hair was a mess, eyes soft and sated, the earlier storm completely gone. he looked younger like this. lighter.

“you really meant all that?” he asked quietly, almost shy again now that the heat had crested. “about me being… hot?”

you cupped his face with both hands and pulled him down for a slow, sweet kiss. “every word. i’m proud of you every single time you’re on that stage, maki. and yeah—when you showed off tonight? i wanted to ruin you. still do. you are lucky that wasn’t the last song or i’d have dragged you backstage for a quick one.”

a small, real smile curved his mouth. he rolled to the side, taking you with him so you were tucked against his chest, one of his long legs thrown over yours. his hand stroked lazily up and down your back.

you stayed quiet for a while, just letting him breathe against your neck. your fingers moved slowly through his hair, gentle and steady. the room was dim now, only the city lights outside the big windows casting soft shadows across the bed. the heavy silence from earlier had changed into something else—something safer.

maki’s voice came out low and a little rough when he finally spoke again.

“i know i’m being dramatic,” he mumbled. “it’s just… sometimes i look at k hyung or nicholas and it’s like they don’t even have to try. they walk on stage and people lose their minds. fuma too. when he takes his shirt off, ugh—he just has that… thing. that presence. and i’m over here still getting called cute or ‘the baby’ even though i’m twenty now. i’m not a kid anymore. i don’t want to be treated like one.”

you kept stroking his hair, letting him get it out.

“i worked so hard on building up my confidence to do that tonight,” he continued, quieter. “the shirt lift. i thought… i don’t know. maybe if i showed more skin, if i looked more confident, people would finally see me differently. not as the maknae. just… as someone hot. someone they could want.” his laugh was small and self-deprecating. “guess it didn’t land the way i wanted.”

you shifted a little so you could see his face better. his eyes were still soft, but there was that old frustration sitting underneath.

“maki,” you said gently, “you don’t have to perform being hot for people to think you are. and you’re allowed to want to be seen that way. it’s not stupid or shallow. you’re allowed to want to feel attractive. especially when you’ve spent years being told you’re the cute one because your the youngest.”

he was quiet, listening.

“you’re not in competition with your hyungs,” you went on. “they have their own thing. but you have yours. the way you move is different. the way you smile when you hit a move perfectly—that’s yours. the way your whole face lights up when you’re proud of yourself. that’s sexy in a way that’s completely you. and yeah, your body is insane now. you’ve grown into it. but even if you never lifted your shirt again, i’d still be stupidly attracted to you. because it’s you.”

maki’s fingers tightened slightly on your waist, like he was anchoring himself to your words.

“i just don’t want to feel like i’m always the one people baby,” he admitted. “even the fans sometimes… they still treat me like i’m fifteen. i want to be taken seriously. as a man. as someone who can be wanted for more than just being the youngest.”

you brushed your thumb across his cheekbone.

“i see you as a man,” you said simply. “i don’t baby you. i flew here because i wanted to spend time with you—not the maknae of &team, just maki. the one who’s still figuring out who he wants to be on stage and off it. that’s the person i’m proud of. that’s the person i want.”

he let out a slow breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

“…you really don’t think it’s pathetic that i care this much about being seen as hot?”

“no,” you said without hesitation. “i think it’s human. you’re allowed to want to feel desired. its your job to be wanted, baby. you’re allowed to want your hard work to be noticed in that way. it doesn’t make you shallow or vain. it makes you twenty and still learning how to hold all the different versions of yourself.”

maki was quiet again for a long moment. then he tucked his face back into your neck, voice muffled but clearer than before.

“i’m really glad you’re here,” he whispered. “even after i was an ass earlier. i don’t know what i’d do if you weren’t.”

you pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“i’m not going anywhere. and for what it’s worth… i think you’re already exactly what you’re trying to prove you are. you just don’t see it yet. but i do.”

he hummed contentedly, fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. the heavy, suffocating silence from earlier had dissolved completely, replaced by the warm, easy quiet of two people who had fought and fucked and found their way back to each other in the same night.

after a while he spoke again, voice drowsy and fond.

“…next time i lift my shirt on stage, you’re gonna tell me exactly what it does to you the second we’re alone?”

you smiled against his chest. “every filthy detail.”

he laughed softly, the sound vibrating through both of you, and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“deal, favorite girl.”

academic rival!yuma who "accidentally" sees your grade on a returned essay and has the audacity to go "aw, that's cute" when he scores two points higher. two. whole. points. you want to strangle him. he knows you want to strangle him, can probably see it written all over your face. that's exactly why he leans in closer, voice dropping just low enough that only you can hear, "maybe if you actually cited recent sources instead of ones from 2018…"

you spend the rest of the lecture plotting his demise instead of taking notes.

academic rival!yuma who lives for the debate portions of your political theory elective. he'll counter every single one of your points with that infuriatingly calm confidence, tongue pressed against his cheek when you start getting flustered. "take your time," he'll say with faux sweetness when you pause to gather your thoughts and the worst part is how the professor nods approvingly at his "patience." you've never meant anything more sincerely than when you mouth "fuck you" at him.

academic rival!yuma who keeps a running tally in the margins of his notes — your score versus his across every quiz, midterm and assignment. when you finally noticed it one day (he left his notebook open on purpose, the fucking bastard), he just shrugged and said, "gotta keep track of my winning streak somehow."

academic rival!yuma who you kissed first, actually. after a particularly heated argument over statistical models that had you both staying two hours past the library closing, you were jabbing your finger into his chest, calling him an "arrogant, insufferable prick," and he was laughing at your anger. so, you did the only rational thing you could think of — you grabbed him by his collar and kissed him to shut him up. instead of pushing you away, his hand came up to cup the back of your neck and he took control so thoroughly that your knees went weak. when you finally broke apart, both breathing hard, he whispered against your lips, "took you long enough." you slapped him then. he deserved it.

academic rival!yuma who has you pinned against the bookshelf in the library's restricted section at 11 PM next wednesday, one hand over your mouth while the other works between your thighs with devastating precision. you're not entirely sure when this arrangement took off, but you're not one to question it. not when nerdy, harmless yuma gives you orgasms that you could only dream of. "quiet," he breathes against your ear and you can hear the smirk in his voice, “unless you want everyone to know that the second-best student in our program is falling apart for me in the philosophy section." you bite down on his palm in retaliation, but it only makes him press harder, fingers curling just right, and your vision goes white. "that's it," he murmurs, holding you up when your legs threaten to give out. "you sound so much better when you're not trying to one-up me."

academic rival!yuma who discovers that the fastest way to win an argument is to slide his hand up your thigh beneath the study room table, all while continuing to contribute to the discussion like nothing's happening. his voice stays perfectly steady, academic and measured, even as his fingers trace maddening patterns against your skin, climbing higher until you completely lose your train of thought mid-sentence. he tilts his head, eyes gleaming with victory. "i'm sorry, what were you saying about foucault's theory of power?" you want to kill him. you also need him. you hate that both things are equally true.

academic rival!yuma who has you bent over his desk at 2 AM, one hand fisted in your hair while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise. and he's talking — god, he won't shut up. "you know what your problem is?" he groans, voice rough as he drives into you. "you think too much. always trying to be in control, always trying to win." he pulls you up against his chest, hand sliding to wrap around your throat. not squeezing but holding, possessive. "look at you now. look how good you take it when you finally let go." you can't even form words to argue back, can only whimper when he angles his hips differently, fat cock hitting that spot that makes you see stars.

academic rival!yuma who gets off on reducing you to incoherence, on watching your sharp mind go completely blank with pleasure. he'll have you on your back, your legs over his shoulders, and he'll slow down just to watch you squirm. "use your words," he demands, even though you both know you're beyond words at this point. "come on, you're so articulate in class. tell me exactly what you need." when you finally manage to choke out a desperate "wan' you t-to touch me, yu... please," he rewards you by pressing his thumb exactly where you need it, pace turning punishing.

"there she is. my smart girl, begging so pretty."

academic rival!yuma who leaves marks deliberately where your clothes will barely hide them. on your throat, your collarbones and the curve where your neck meets your shoulder. he'll suck bruises into your skin while he's inside you, and later, when you're both coming down, he'll kiss them with a satisfaction that's claiming. "wear a turtleneck tomorrow," he suggests, amusement dancing across his features. you flip him off. you both know you won't. you both know he'll be looking for them during your morning lecture, getting hard again just thinking about how he put them there.

academic rival!yuma who fucks you like he has something to prove, every single time — harder, deeper, longer... drawing it out until you're screaming like a pornstar. he'll hook your leg over his shoulder until you arch off the bed with a cry. he'll lean down to messily suck on your tit, moaning shamelessly. "that's right, take it," he growls, tugging at your nipple only to hear your adorable yelp of surprise. "t-take all of me... hhnngh— you can do it, can't you? fuck... my perfect rival." the combination of praise and degradation shouldn't work, but it makes you lose your goddamn mind. when you finally shatter you take him with you, both of you cursing and gasping each other's names.

academic rival!yuma who ends up as your coworker at your dream company six months after you graduate. on your first day, you lock eyes across the room. his answering grin is slow and dangerous. "fancy seeing you here," he singsongs during the coffee break, standing too close for comfort. "guess we're colleagues now." you swallow hard, putting on a nonchalant front, "guess so." he moves into your space, biting down on his lower lip, like he's sharing a dirty little secret, "hr's probably going to have a field day with us."

unfortunately for you, he's right. they absolutely do.