: imagining、 maki — 〔+18〕 ──── · x reader ॱ 💬 ִ
。꒰ 💬 ꒱ word count : 1040 virgin reader, afab reader, virginity loss, gentle sex, pulling out, unprotected (that’s a no no!), whiny maki, pet names, fwb.
it was a bad idea : calling you up
soft kisses that once were so innocent, the pure beauty of his plump swollen lips, hair messed slightly from your hands.
but it was now different, his tongue got hungrier, hands pinning you down to the couch. his eyes carried more than just playfulness — real raw lust intoxicating his thoughts, blurring the line between your friendship and something more.
“maki?” he stared down at you, long slim fingers wrapped around your wrists, trembled pants echoing lightly. your wrists struggle beneath his grip, eyes darting around his tensed face.
his free hand moves below your shirt, his lips sealed shut, eyes watching your face for disapproval.
his cold fingertips running along your side,
“maki— we can’t.” a bitter taste on your tongue mumbling through your swollen lips, squirming under every touch.
the way his eyes sparkled in the intimate warmth, his slightly pink cheeks. that nervous pout he always did when he wanted something more. “why not . . . ?” his tone solemn, losing that once familiar feeling. hands freezing midway to your bra. his other hand never loosening around your wrists.
“maki . . . it’s crossing that very line we set on our first kiss—“ even if your words were stern, you couldn’t quite suppress that small urge to pull him closer, give in to your shared bad desires. but giving in meant violating a vow you two swore to never break.
through all the heated make-outs— even tasting his lips freshly after a breakup with your partner, you trusted yourself to never go beyond just kissing.
maki bit his tongue, holding back the words he wanted to say, the confessions that ran through his mind. heart pounding through his tightened chest, hands trembling against your warm chest. all leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.
his eyes filled with the warm image of your face, even if it was unsure, it was something his mind never let go, like a small picture that forever painted the back of his senses. his grip loosens around your wrists, the distressing throb in his chest.
but you couldn't let it go— the need to know what could be—
it felt like a twig snapping in the dead of night, a once forbidden place that now your feet cautiously entered. your lips smashing to his, hands reaching for his sharp jaw, eyes pressed shut.
the heat creeping into his face, down from the nape of his neck, to the warm hold against his jaw, arriving at his hollow cheeks— the pink seeping into the pale skin like ink.
the once steadiness of your innocence was now breaking in long tears, his hands fumbling at your bra— fingers fighting to unclasp the delicate fabric.
“darling— you’re so pretty it hurts . . .” his confession long, voice trembling, hands slowly pulling your bra between his fingers, dragging the soft fabric down your warm chest.
his hands moving before your brain could unfold the situation, fingers that tugged at the delicate cloth covering your innocent body.
eyes watching his appetite run wild, clothes thrown down on the creaky hardwood floor— the same floor he once comforted you on, heart shattered in pain, only filling your mind with his once delicate lips— that were now inching towards your bare pelvis.
the vulnerable position he laid you in, your once holy skin grazed by his unsatisfied thirst. fingers circling your inner thighs, trying to slow his merciless pace, hands paused— eyebrows knit together. “have you done this before?” tone innocently murmuring, your soft thighs squeezing against his rough bony hips.
you shake your head lightly, eyes soft, warm, wary— uncertain vulnerability and caution.
“that's okay . . . i'll be soft, i promise,” he assured you, hands slower— losing that desperate speed they once grew, moving as if your fragile frame would break under too much pressure.
he leaned in, lips ghosting yours, fingers tracing your tensed muscles. trailing from your weak thighs to the waistband of his pants, swiftly pulling the waistband down in one tug.
his knees deepening into the couch cushions, soft gaze never living your wary face— the vulnerable embarrassment that spread pink to your cheeks. that once guarded feeling slowly dying with every breath, your bare chest, arched back, his soft voice drunken your once sober brain.
the silence deafening, his slick tip spreading across your heated folds. “ready?” head peeped over your arched chest. with one wet gulp you nod, fingers tightening around the couch cushions.
a painful stretch rushes through your legs— his length bulging into every vacant space it could. veins grinding against the squishy tight flesh.
his hands holding your fragile sides, fingers digging into soft weight. hips never budging until he was sure you had adjusted to the thick length. gently rolling his hips one last time before picking a slow, steady pace.
“are you okay?” he whimpers, hands ever so slightly holding you, eyes watching the way your muscles tensed at every luscious push. blood rushing to your dusky rose lips, teeth drawing thin blood across the perfectly lush flesh.
“mhm—“your throat cried, the ache between your trembling thighs, hips squirming at his thick cock— hitting every untouched spot your fingers couldn’t reach.
throbbing snaps that nipped at your building pleasure, trying to hold back the messy hot whines breaking from your lips. back melting into the plush cushion, palms clammy, knees buckling with his sinking length.
legs desperately kicking until they wrap him, heels digging into his lower back, only pushing his hips deeper into. veins dragging through you slick walls, tip pushing lazily deeper, bulging through your arched stomach.
walls tightening, breath shakily hitching, hands scrapping the velvet fabric one last time.
your body giving in, vulnerable whines, a long gush escaping your legs, messy desperate jerks that your sensitive needy hips involuntarily did. his breath trying to steady— hands trying to relax your frantic whines.
only once your last buck shivered out of your fragile thighs did he pull out, hand making thick strokes, his deep rough groans vibrating into your ears, before he released on your stomach.
wanyangii, 2026 © These works are original creations and exclusively uploaded to Tumblr. No part of these writings may be copied, translated, edited, redistributed, or modified in any form
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