maki squints at you with sleepy eyes from her place in bed beside you. “no,” she says, stretching her legs under the covers. her knee knocks into yours. “but i can make you worse.”
you crack a smile. “you’re an enabler.”
“‘enabler.’ ‘girlfriend.’ same shit.”
her eyes are fluttering shut again, sheets jostling as she turns over. you tug on her sleeve insistently, trying to get her attention back.
“but do you think i’m evil?”
“i think you’re up past your bedtime,” she replies through a long, teeth-bearing yawn. “and so am i.”
you pull the covers up to your chest, staring up at the ceiling and whispering into the dark, “i think i’m evil.”
maki’s next words are muffled into the pillow, face-down and halfway to dreamland. “you’re not evil. you just haven’t washed your hair in three days and have an eight hour screen time report.”
damn. you hate it when she’s right. all you can do is let out an unsatisfied “hmph.”
“go to sleep.”
you try to make evil eyes at her, but it’s too dark and her face is fully buried in the pillow anyway.
you huff and try to wriggle under the arm sprawled across the middle of your bed. you don’t stop squirming until you’re wearing her like a scarf.
ꨄ︎ warnings : cursing, teasing, wingman nicho, maki is kinda nonchalant at first, mentions of kissing
ꨄ︎ slide count : 17
ꨄ︎ author's note : another perfect maki req by the lovely @makizdoll!! this is so cute and silly i loved making it! hope i did it just justice for you. all support is appreciated, i hope u enjoy jokitties 🪽
Synopsis: Unravelling the day with your beloved boyfriend.
Pairing: bf!Maki x fem!reader
Warnings: floofy floofy fluff, hurt/comfort, reader has a shitty day, hyperindependent reader, maki being my cutie son i love him
A/N: a surprise not really i already told her for my personal maki @makizdoll yes this fic is very targeted towards Kayz love you baby mmwah mmwah yes i put short blonde maki because you love him ehehehe. As always, enjoy, my darlings!
Word Count: 3.8k (yeah idk why all my fluff fics are so short)
How could humans possibly be solitary creatures when the dip of every neck and the curve of every palm is almost sculpted to hold a face in it?
In biological terms, they call it the pack instinct—the urge of every living creature to bond with another. It doesn't have to be one of their own. It could be another creature entirely unrelated to them.
As long as there is love, there is life.
For you, after a few long years of searching for your own pack-mate, you stumbled upon him in an elevator.
At first, you didn't really notice him.
The elevator was always crowded in the mornings. People squeezed shoulder-to-shoulder, clutching coffee cups and briefcases, staring at their phones with the hollow expression of those not yet fully awake. You stepped inside, pressed yourself into whatever space was available, and rode to the seventeenth floor. Every day, this was your routine.
And every day, he was there.
Tall enough to see over most heads, with short blonde hair that always looked slightly windblown. He stood near the back wall with his hands in his pockets and an expression that hovered somewhere between sleepy and amused.
You learned his routine before you learned his name. He got on at the same lobby, got off on the same floor as you and without fail, turned left while you turned right.
At five-thirty every evening, you found yourselves together again. The elevator doors would open. There he'd be. You'd ride down in silence. Then he would disappear into the city while you headed in the opposite direction.
Weeks turned into months. Months turned into a year. You learned tiny things about him. He liked listening to music on his commute. He sometimes wore old band t-shirts beneath his work jacket. He laughed quietly to himself whenever he read something funny on his phone.
And every time he smiled, two absurdly deep dimples appeared in his cheeks. The first time you noticed them, you nearly walked into a wall.
After that, you found yourself waiting for them. Waiting for the smile. Waiting for the elevator. Waiting for him. It became the favorite part of your day.
Neither of you spoke. There were occasional nods, a muttered "morning." Once, during a power outage that trapped everyone for twenty minutes between floors, you'd exchanged actual conversation.
You learned his name was Maki.
Maki with the blonde hair, Maki with the ridiculous dimples, Maki who always stood close enough for you to notice the faint scent of his shampoo, Maki who somehow made thirty seconds in an elevator feel important.
The realization hit you one random, rainy Tuesday.
You were both standing in the lobby. The elevator was late. Maki wasn't there. And you felt disappointed.
Then the doors opened at the last second and he hurried inside, slightly out of breath. The relief that flooded through you was embarrassing. You looked up. He looked down. His dimples appeared.
"Oh good," he said. "I thought I'd missed you."
Your heart stopped functioning normally "What?"
He laughed. "That came out weird."
"No, no," you said quickly. "Keep talking."
His ears turned pink. "I was just..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "We've been riding the same elevator for almost two years." The grin that spread across his face revealed both dimples at once. "You know," he said, "I was trying to figure out how to ask you out without sounding like a complete creep."
You stared at him. The elevator dinged. The doors opened onto the seventeenth floor. Nobody moved. People shuffled around you with annoyed sighs. Neither of you cared.
"You wanted to ask me out?" you finally managed.
Maki nodded. "Preferably before we retire."
You laughed. He laughed. And suddenly it felt absurd that you'd spent years riding up and down together without doing this.
"Then yes," you said.
His eyebrows rose. "Yes?"
"I'll go out with you."
The smile that followed was so bright you thought it might power the elevator by itself. "Good."
"Good?"
"Yeah." He stepped aside as the last people filed out. "Because I've been sharing an elevator with my favorite person every day for two years."
The warmth that settled in your chest felt strangely familiar, like finding something you'd been missing for a long time.
Maybe because you'd spent most of your life feeling like a puzzle piece from the wrong box.
You fit everywhere, technically. You had friends, you got along with people, you could hold conversations and laugh at the right moments and blend into a crowd when you needed to.
But there was always something slightly off. Like everyone else had been handed a script you never received.
You were never completely part of things, only adjacent to them.
Most of your real comfort came from your online friends—the people who knew the strange corners of your personality that never seemed to surface around anyone else. The ones who understood your niche references, your bizarre trains of thought, your tendency to spiral from discussing grocery lists into debating whether penguins would thrive in a corporate office environment. The people who never looked at you strangely when your brain jumped three conversations ahead.
Then Maki happened.
One evening you'd spent twenty straight minutes making increasingly ridiculous arguments about why a goose would be a terrible roommate. Instead of looking confused, Maki had immediately joined in.
"No, you're missing the biggest issue."
"What biggest issue?"
"The goose would steal your socks."
You had stared at him. "What?"
"Think about it."
"Why would a goose steal my socks?"
"To establish dominance."
And somehow that conversation had lasted another hour. It was stupid, completely stupid. And you'd laughed so hard your stomach hurt.
That was the thing about Maki. He never seemed interested in some simplified version of you. He wanted all of it—the weird parts, the difficult parts, the parts you usually kept tucked away because they were too complicated to explain.
He asked questions, remembered answers, paid attention. Months after an offhand conversation, he'd bring up things you'd forgotten you ever mentioned.
You once casually told him that thunderstorms helped you sleep. Three months later, during a particularly loud storm, your phone buzzed.
Maki: Bet you're having the best nap of your life right now.
You stared at the message for a full minute, because he'd remembered and people rarely did.
Then there was your hyper-independence.
If you needed something, you handled it. If something was difficult, you dealt with it. If you were struggling, you figured it out alone.
Maki hated that.
Not because he thought you were incapable, quite the opposite actually. He knew you could do everything yourself. He just thought you shouldn't have to.
The first time he discovered you'd been carrying three overloaded grocery bags home alone, he'd looked genuinely offended. "You could've called me." He'd said, immediately yanking two of the bags away before any protest could fall from your lips.
Another time, you'd spent hours assembling a bookshelf by yourself. When Maki arrived and found you sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by screws and frustration, he'd dropped to the ground beside you without a word.
"I can do it myself."
"I know."
"So why are you helping?"
He'd handed you a screwdriver. "Because I love you." As though that explained everything. To him, apparently it did.
The biggest fight you'd ever had started because you'd gotten sick and deliberately not told him.
When he eventually found out, he stared at you in complete disbelief. "You had a fever."
"I was fine."
"Baby, you almost collapsed." He said, placing a cold towel on your forehead with utmost care, "You don't always have to carry everything alone, you know?"
Patiently, stubbornly, Maki had spent years teaching you that relying on someone wasn't the same thing as burdening them.
That love wasn't just showing up for the easy things. It was showing up for the annoying, inconvenient, ordinary things too. The grocery bags, the flat tires, the bad days, the random Friday afternoons where your brain convinced you the entire world had shifted two inches to the left. Especially those.
Like today, for example.
Nothing catastrophic had happened, which in some ways made everything worse.
The train had been delayed. Someone had sent you three separate emails asking questions already answered in the original document. Your lunch had somehow ended up tasting like disappointment. A meeting that should have lasted twenty minutes stretched into an hour and a half.
Every small inconvenience stacked neatly on top of the previous one until your patience resembled a tower built from wet cardboard.
By three in the afternoon, you were already exhausted. By four, every conversation felt slightly too loud. By five, even answering a simple "How was your day?" sounded like a task requiring extensive preparation.
The worst part was that strange, hollow feeling underneath everything, the sense that you were moving through the day rather than living it. Like your body had shown up to work but the rest of you had gotten lost somewhere along the commute.
By the time you finally got home, your shoulders ached from tension you hadn't even realized you'd been carrying.
You unlocked the apartment door, stepped inside and immediately spotted your boyfriend.
Maki was stretched out on the couch with one arm draped across the backrest, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. The television was on low volume, filling the room with soft background noise.
The moment he looked up, his expression softened into something that made your chest swell.
"Hey, sweetheart."
That was all it took. You dropped your bag near the door, kicked off your shoes and crossed the room without a word.
Maki barely had time to set his phone aside before you folded yourself directly into his lap and buried your face against his chest. His arms wrapped around you instantly. Automatically, like muscle memory or like breathing.
Neither of you spoke for a moment. You just stayed there, pressed against the familiar warmth of him, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.
One of his hands moved slowly through your hair, gentle and patient—the way he always did when he knew you were running on empty.
A soft kiss landed against the crown of your head. You felt him rest his cheek lightly against your hair.
"That bad?"
A muffled noise escaped you, something between a groan and a whine.
Maki laughed quietly. "Got it."
His fingers continued combing through your hair. The apartment felt warm and safe, the rain tapping softly against the windows.
After a while, Maki tilted his head so he could look down at you. His expression was soft in that way it only ever was around you.
"Would you like to take a shower?"
You considered the question. The hot water, clean clothes (preferably his), washing away the entire miserable day.
Eventually, you nodded against his chest. "Yeah."
Maki pressed another kiss to the top of your head and tightened his arms around you for a few seconds longer.
As if he understood that right now, more than the shower or dinner or anything else waiting to be done, what you really needed was this.
A place to rest. A place to stop carrying everything. And, as always, Maki seemed perfectly happy to be that place.
The world outside the apartment faded completely as Maki held you. The rain continued its soft rhythm against the windows, but inside, everything had gone still and warm.
After a long, comfortable silence, Maki shifted beneath you. His arms tightened once—a quick, reassuring squeeze—before he spoke again, his voice low and gentle.
"Alright, baby. Up we go."
Before you could even process what was happening, he slid one arm beneath your knees and the other around your back, lifting you off the couch,
You let out a small, surprised sound, your arms winding around his neck. "Maki—"
"Shh," he murmured, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I've got you."
He carried you through the apartment with the kind of effortless certainty that made your chest ache. The hallway lights were dim, the bedroom door already open, but he bypassed it entirely, heading straight for the bathroom.
The tiles were cool beneath his bare feet. He nudged the door open with his shoulder, then set you down carefully on the edge of the counter, his hands lingering at your waist to make sure you were steady.
You sat there, legs dangling, looking up at him. The bathroom light caught in his hair, softening the angles of his face. His eyes were warm, patient, full of something that made your throat tight.
"Okay," Maki said quietly, his thumbs tracing small circles against your hips through the fabric of your work clothes. "Let's get this day off you."
He started with your shirt.
His fingers found the buttons, working each one free with a care that felt less like undressing and more like unwrapping something precious. With each button, he pressed a kiss to the newly exposed skin—your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder, the hollow at the base of your throat.
"You don't have to—" you started, your voice barely above a whisper.
"I want to," he said simply, and his dimples appeared as he glanced up at you. "Let me take care of you tonight. Please?"
The word please undid something in you. You nodded, and he smiled—that bright, ridiculous, dimpled smile that still made your heart stutter after all this time.
Your boyfriend slid the shirt off your shoulders, letting it fall somewhere behind him. His palms smoothed down your arms, warming your skin, before he knelt in front of you to undo your pants. His movements were unhurried and reverent. He pressed a kiss to your knee as he worked the fabric down your legs, then another to your ankle when you stepped out of them.
When you were left in nothing but your underwear, he rose again, his hands cupping your face. He studied you for a moment, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheekbones.
"Beautiful." He said, so softly it was almost to himself.
Steam began to fill the small space as he turned on the shower, fogging the mirror, softening the edges of the room. Maki tested the water with his hand, adjusted the temperature, and only when he was satisfied did he turn back to you.
"Ready?"
You held out your hands to him. He took them, helped you slide off the counter, and guided you into the shower.
The hot water hit your skin like a release. You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, your shoulders dropping as the tension began to unspool. Maki stepped in behind you, the water catching in his hair. He reached for the shampoo.
"Close your eyes." He instructed softly, and you obeyed.
His fingers worked through your hair with a gentleness that made your knees weak. Maki massaged your scalp in slow, firm circles, working the lather from your roots to your ends. Every movement was designed to soothe rather than simply clean. When he was done, he guided your head back under the spray, rinsing until the water ran clear.
Then came the conditioner. Then the body wash.
Your beloved's hands traveled over your shoulders, down your arms, across your back. He worked the soap into your skin with the same patient attention, finding every knot of tension and pressing gently until they began to loosen. His thumbs dug into the tight muscles at the base of your neck, and you couldn't help the small, involuntary sound that escaped you.
"Found it," he murmured, amused.
"Shut up," you mumbled, but there was no bite to it. He laughed quietly and kept working.
By the time Maki was done, you were barely standing—not from exhaustion, but from the sheer, bone-deep relaxation that had settled into every part of you. Your limbs felt heavy, your mind blissfully blank, your heart full.
Maki turned off the water and reached for a towel.
He wrapped it around you first, drying your arms and shoulders with careful strokes. Then he knelt, patting dry your legs, your feet, even between your toes, which made you giggle sleepily. He rose, dried your hair with a second towel, ruffling it until it was damp and soft and sticking up in every direction.
"There," he said, surveying his work with satisfaction. "All better."
He helped you step out of the shower, then guided you to the bedroom. He pulled one of his t-shirts from the drawer—soft, worn, smelling faintly of him—and helped you pull it over your head. Then a pair of loose shorts, because he knew you liked having the option.
You stood there, wrapped in his clothes, your hair still damp, your body warm and clean and completely at ease.
Maki looked at you for a long moment. Then he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into a hug so full and steady that you felt something inside you finally, fully, let go.
"I love you." He said against your hair.
You buried your face in his chest and held him back.
"I love you too."
He pulled away just enough to look at you, his dimples deepening as he smiled. "Feeling better?"
You thought about it. The terrible day, the hollow feeling, the weight you'd been carrying.
Then you thought about Maki carrying you to the bathroom. Undressing you with his kisses, washing away every trace of the bad hours, dressing you in his clothes and holding you like you were something worth holding.
"Yeah," you said, and your voice came out steady. "I think I am."
Maki kissed your forehead. "Good. Now come on." He tugged you toward the bed, pulling back the covers. "Let's go lie down and watch something stupid until we fall asleep."
The bed welcomed you both like an old friend.
Maki pulled the covers up over your shoulders, tucking the edge beneath your chin with the same careful attention he gave everything else. You shifted closer, molding yourself against his side, your head finding its natural resting place in the hollow of his shoulder.
His arm came around you, palm flat against your back, fingers tracing lazy patterns through the soft fabric of his old t-shirt. His other hand found yours, threading your fingers together and resting them on his chest, right over his heart.
The rain had softened to a whisper against the windows. The apartment was dark except for the faint glow of city lights filtering through the curtains. It painted soft shadows across the ceiling, cast gentle silver lines along the curve of Maki's jaw.
You let out a long, slow breath. The kind that came from somewhere deep. The kind that said I'm home.
Maki pressed his lips to the top of your head and let them linger there.
"Comfortable?" he asked, his voice a low rumble against your hair.
"Mmh."
"Warm enough?"
"Mmh."
"Need anything?"
You nuzzled closer, your nose brushing against his neck. "Just this."
His chest rose and fell with a quiet laugh. "Yeah, me too."
Your breathing began to even out, growing slower and deeper. The tension that had coiled in your shoulders all day had finally dissolved completely, leaving you soft and pliant in his arms. Your fingers curled loosely around his, your body relaxing into his as though you were made to fit there.
Maki stayed awake.
He listened to the rain, felt the gentle weight of you against him, counted the soft rhythm of your breaths until they became predictable, steady and peaceful.
And in the quiet of that dark room, with you safely tucked against his side, his thoughts drifted.
He thought about the first time he saw you in that elevator. Head down, earbuds in, a small frown of concentration on your face as you scrolled through something on your phone. He'd thought you were beautiful, but more than that—he'd thought you looked like someone he wanted to know.
He thought about the months of silent rides. The gradual progression from strangers to familiar faces. The morning you'd both reached for the same elevator button at the same time, your fingers brushing, and how you'd both laughed nervously and said "sorry" at the exact same moment.
He thought about the power outage. Twenty minutes trapped between floors. How you'd been the one to break the silence with a joke about the universe trying to give you both a forced bonding experience. How he'd laughed so hard he'd snorted, and how you'd looked at him like that was exactly the reaction you'd been hoping for.
He thought about asking you out. The terror of it. The way his heart had hammered against his ribs as he'd stepped into the lobby that rainy Tuesday, determined, terrified, completely unprepared for how you'd say yes before he'd even finished his sentence.
He thought about every moment since. Every laugh, every conversation, every time you'd looked at him like he was something special, when really, he was just a guy who'd been lucky enough to find you.
He thought about the way you'd curled into him. How you trusted him enough to fall apart in his arms, to let him put you back together. How you'd let him wash your hair and dry your feet and dress you in his clothes like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He thought about how you always smelled like sunshine and something floral, even after a long day. He thought about how your laugh sounded like coming home.
He thought about the future. About mornings and evenings and grocery runs and lazy Sundays. About arguments they'd have and make up from. About growing old, about gray hair and wrinkled hands and still reaching for each other in the dark.
Maki thought about forever.
And he realized, with a certainty that settled warm and solid in his chest, that forever with you still wouldn't be long enough.
His arm tightened around you, just slightly, pulling you closer. You stirred, making a soft, sleepy sound, and he pressed another kiss to your hair.
"Love you," he whispered into the darkness. "So much."
You didn't answer. You were already asleep. But your hand, still resting on his chest, curled a little tighter around his fingers and that was answer enough.
Maki closed his eyes, your warmth seeping into his bones, your scent filling his lungs, your heartbeat a quiet lullaby against his ribs.
He smiled to himself—one of those soft, private smiles that only existed in moments like this. His dimples appeared, even in the dark.
You snuggled closer to Maki, fitting yourself against your side like you'd been doing it your whole life. And maybe you had been.
Maybe you'd just been waiting for the right elevator.
fin.
A/N: oh to have a love like the one Maki gives :((( yeah i had the saddest playlist on whilst writing this
divider by @diviniyae
@eu1joo @7yataki @frenchkisstheabyss @yumangel @nichozzystuffs @blueuijoo @pglpblm @ikigaijo @antonh0lic @dearvampyr @riri4andy @tokunodoll @sunsoomi @makizdoll @solairemelo @cece0710 + Shoot me an ask or comment to be added
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! that was supposed to be super cute… whatever girl…
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ @fantasia-films, @k-records, @lune-net
you let out a deep sigh and let go of the rolling pin. maki's mom giggled at your reaction and shook her head.
"it just won't budge" you smiled apologetically. you tried everything to roll out the dough for the cinnamon rolls you wanted to make with maki's mom.
"just… go call maki for help, please. i'll make the filling in the meantime" she asked you and you nodded, rushing to his room.
you barged in, not even bothering to knock. maki was doing bicep curls, gaze stuck somewhere outside the window.
"maki" you grinned and closed the door behind you, coming up to him. he snapped back to reality, quickly putting away his dumbbells. you eyed his toned bicep that was on display, all for you to admire.
"finally!" he huffed. you let out a small squeal when he pulled you closer. your hands wrapped around his waist, giggling. "can't believe my own girlfriend came over and didn't even kiss me once!"
you rolled your eyes playfully. maki cupped your cheeks and wiped flour off your skin.
"you know why" you whined, a small pout forming on your lips.
it's not like you didn't want to kiss him like, all the time. but the thing was… no one knew you were dating.
you were like a part of the family since you two met in middle school; you were his best friend. the lines between your friendship and something more were getting blurry, and it was only a matter of time before you turned into lovers.
the issue was that his (and your) parents didn't know yet. and you preferred it stayed this way, since even though it was maki, your maki, your parents wanted you to focus on school.
and his… well, you were sure they thought of you more like a daughter of theirs.
"are you done with the baking? can we do something fun now?" he asked, swaying you both gently.
"well, actually…" you hummed, tilting your head. "we need your help with the rolling pin. the dough won't budge"
"ah" maki rolled his eyes. "using me for my muscles… rude"
"okay, shut up. first, your mom asked me to ask you. second of all, i know you just looove bragging and putting your beefy arms to good use" you whined and playfully jabbed his waist. maki let out a small squeal.
"fine, i'll do it. just to pretend i don't see you staring at them by the way" he teased and grinned. "for a kiss, though"
"offer accepted" you stood on your tiptoes and placed your lips against his. maki smiled into the kiss, the evidence of you snacking on the chocolate very much palpable on your lips. your hands sneaked to the pockets of his jeans, while his just manhandled your head for a better angle.
"y/n!" maki's mom voice reached you unexpectedly, and you two jolted away.
"coming!" you yelled back and stepped away.
"me too!" maki added. he went to open the door but felt a sudden slap on his butt. he turned around, wide-eyed. "girl!"
"sorry, it was stronger than me!" you just laughed and signaled him to go.
you didn't realize that your hands left a floury hand print on his ass.
"thank you, dear" his mom smiled upon seeing her rosy-cheeked son. maki got to work, heart bumping in his chest with adrenaline/ and just when he heard you come into the kitchen, his mom let out a small gasp, looking at the white trace on his jeans. "what's that?"
𓎟𓎟 maki can't help but want to kiss and touch you 25/8
wordcount 414 fluff mentions of kissing skinship
maki craves physical touch.
in more ways than one, he loves when you have your hands on him, sexual or not. maki is obsessed with the feeling of your soft skin, how you treat him like something fragile.
he loves to be pampered, like when you run your fingers through his hair on lazy evenings. or when you massage the tension out of his shoulders after an eventful day.
but there's nothing he loves more than those soft, domestic mornings where it's just you and him—no clothes or unnecessary barriers coming between the two of you. just the soft duvet and far too much time on your hands.
maki likes the mornings where you wake up first and pepper his face in gentle kisses to ease him into consciousness.
his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, lips already curling into that familiar, puppy-like smile. his dimples dig so deep into his cheeks that you're convinced he can't possibly smile any harder.
"morning, baby," he'll murmur, voice still hoarse with sleep.
then comes his favorite part, the part where he gets to trail his hands across your skin and not worry about anything.
just feel—your warmth, counting the freckles on your skin and the beauty marks littered across your body.
his hands circle the round of your ass, just tracing without his usual hints of tease. maki presses gentle kisses to wherever he can reach; your collarbone, that sensitive spot in the crook of your neck, and his absolute favorite spot to kiss, your lips.
maki's kisses aren't rushed, they're soft and slow, like he has all the time in the world. he'll brush the corner of your mouth like a test, eyes fluttering shut before he really presses his lips against yours.
oh, and when you do the same? he folds. completely.
whenever you cup his jaw or run your fingers along his biceps, his heart beats faster, so fast that he thinks it might burst. not that he minds. if he spent his last moments your arms, maki would die a happy man.
"love you so much, y'know that?" he'd whisper softly, like it's a secret for just the two of you.
when you nod, he can't help the grin that tugs at his lips.
you make him soft, but maki doesn't mind. not when he gets to wake up to this every morning—the sounds of your soft giggles and the sight of your sweet smile makes all of his stress melt away.
Biker!Maki who takes you on random late-night rides when you’re stressed. She knows you don’t like being crowded or pressured into talking when you’re in this state, so she opts to get you some fresh air and a clear mind instead.
Biker!Maki who lets you lean against her when you stop by a large tree. She’ll have an arm wrapped around your shoulders with your head rested on one of her. Maybe she’ll even kiss your forehead if she feels like it.
Biker!Maki who always stops and gets your favorite treat on the way back home, even if you’ve already calmed down. She likes seeing how happy you are when eating your favorite food.
Biker!Maki who holds you close when you get home, refusing to let you go back to whatever made you stressed in the first place. She’ll wrap you up in a blanket and hold you tight against her until you either give in or fall asleep.
Biker!Maki who occasionally lets you drive her bike. She’ll guide you the whole way, making sure you’re comfortable and going at a steady pace. She’ll reassure you when you get nervous, her thumb lightly stroking your waist while she does so.
Biker!Maki who hypes you up when you eventually get the hang of it. She’ll kiss your cheek and hug you like there’s no tomorrow just so you know how proud she is. She loves the way you smile when she does it.
Biker!Maki who is an absolute beast in bed. She’ll bend you over and go for hours with her strap-on. She’ll praise you the entire time for being so good for her, too.
Biker!Maki who makes sure to always take the best care of you afterwards. Gentle massages for the sore spots, a warm bath, some food, and endless cuddles are what you get every time.
Biker!Maki who teases you about some of the mistakes you made when trying out her bike, but backs off if you get pouty. She’ll stroke your hair and until you fall asleep, whispering a small “I love you,” when you do.
A/N: I need to study her character more mb if this is ooc 💔
warnings :: use of noona, younger bf! maki hehehehehee, fluff fluff fluff he's so cute!!!!
wc :: 1.9k
younger bf! maki who was quite popular at uni and was loved by everyone in his year, being utterly desired by every woman that ever laid eyes on him.
younger bf! maki who rarely paid attention to women in general, his focus being basketball and basketball only.
younger bf! maki who had only selective friendships, despite being extremely popular and well mannered.
younger bf! maki who crosses paths with you when the basketball accidentally bounces off court and hits your shin while you were studying, seated at a bench nearby. he runs to you, continuously apologizing even though the hit wasn’t intentional.
younger bf! maki who absolutely gets astonished by your dazzling smile that you flash at him, being kind and reassuring that it didn’t hurt you at all and it was completely alright.
younger bf! maki whose face almost turns red at how flustered the interaction made him, turns away and gets back to the game, the picture of your smile imprinted on the back of his mind.
younger bf! maki who loses sleep over the tiny moment between you two replaying in his head throughout the entire night. he’s completely awestruck by your presence.
younger bf! maki who doesn’t hesitate to ask around and inquire about you, only to find out that you were a senior in his own major.
younger bf! maki who is shy at first but eventually mans up and follows you around uni and tries his best to interact with you, being careful enough to not cross any boundaries.
younger bf! maki who genuinely torments himself by denying all the deep attraction that he felt towards you over the few weeks that you had been friends.
younger bf! maki who secretly gets possessive over you, shooting unconscious glares at whoever tried to get close to you or acted a bit too friendly towards you for his liking.
younger bf! maki who gets so flustered every time his friends tease him about you but never shows it openly. little did he knows his rose coloured cheeks and the smile threatening to creep upto his lips gave everything away.
younger bf! maki who gets extremely jealous when he sees you hanging out guys in your year. the fact that they know you longer, better and are closer to you than him makes him feel sad.
younger bf! maki who makes his best efforts to observe and learn about you all the damn time, spending all the free time he has with you, trailing behind you like a puppy.
younger bf! maki who brings you your favourite food and stays by your side every time you're stressed because of assignments.
younger bf! maki who gets judged by other girls who are interested in him for hanging out with someone who isn’t as popular as him, but in reality all those talks get blurred out the moment he sees you smile.
younger bf! maki who never oversteps boundaries and is extremely respectful towards you, often looking up to you, admiring your passion and confidence, all while being absolutely in love with you.
younger bf! maki who makes your heart flutter every time he makes those puppy eyes at you unknowingly, giggling at your half funny jokes, paying attention to your words whenever you speak in a group of people, giving all sense of his concentration to your every little move.
younger bf! maki who is extremely oblivious of your gaze that always travels to him, filled with adoration and also the feeling that floods your chest every time he smiles at you, dimples almost kissing your heart.
younger bf! maki who doesn’t even have a bit of an idea how your chest swells and your face heats up every single time he calls you ‘noona’ with the softest voice ever.
younger bf! maki who finally breaks out of his own bubble of denial, only to realise that he couldn’t hold all the feelings he has for you in him anymore,
younger bf! maki who shudders at the thought of even confessing to you, because in his eyes, you were the most perfect human being with no flaws. it would be a miracle if you liked him back.
younger bf! maki who plans his confession a million times in his head, repeating his words over and over again, stuttering even at the impromptu confession to a wall that his friends had to witness.
younger bf! maki who genuinely gets his friends worried at how nervous he gets before telling you about his feelings for you. nobody would’ve expected mr.popular-handsome-good-at-everything man to have his hands shaking at a mere conversation.
younger bf! maki who at last gains all the courage and plans a dinner for you at his house, his supportive family leaving the house for you two to have your moment.
younger bf! maki who cooks your favourite dishes (he had spent weeks perfecting the taste), based on all his observations, the ones which came to him naturally when admiring your every move.
younger bf! maki who looks visibly nervous when he opens the door, letting you in into a dimly lit house, candles flickering at a distance on their dining table, everything arranged neatly, food plated neatly and cloches places over necessary dishes.
younger bf! maki whose hands tremble with the nerves as he tries to serve you your food, while hesitating to look at you, shyness taking over him the moment you two are alone.
younger bf! maki who gets taken aback when you almost snatch the fork out of his hands, serving food for both yourself and him, his eyes going wide and puppy-like. “hey, it’s alright maki, relax. let me do it okay?” you say calmly like your heart isn’t threatening to burst out of your ribcage anytime soon.
younger bf! maki who is oblivious to the fact that you sensed what was coming, right when he invited you home for dinner, but you pretended to play along, just to watch him adorably do it in his own way.
younger bf! maki who purses his lips, setting down the dessert spoon as he finishes eating. his eyes stay fixated on you as he watched you take the first bite of the delicacy that was crafted carefully and oh so lovingly by his own hands.
younger bf! maki who waits for your reaction and immediately lights up when your eyebrows raise along with your lips curving into an oh so beautiful smile. “this is delicious, maki. thank you.” you say as you scoop up the last bite and savour it.
younger bf! maki who paces around the living room, repeating his speech, the words that he wanted to say to you, loud and clear when you leave the living room to him while you use the restroom.
“okay maki, breathe. just say whatever you planned. she’ll accept your confession. or maybe not… but uh we have to confess— okay repeat once again. breathe… wait i cannot talk if she looks at me like that i like her too much fuck—” a chuckle resonates behind him and his heart momentarily stops. doomed.
maki turns around, the small velvet box stumbling off of his hands but he catches it clumsily. you watch his actions with an amused smile. just how flustered can he get around you?
the expression on his face was a mixture of fright, embarrassment, shock— and also absolutely hilarious to you. you almost failed to hold back your laugh.
“what was that about?” you ask, a gentle smile, full of adoration and amusement gracing your lips.
words get stuck in his throat and he immediately hides the box behind him, his huge palms enveloping the mini cuboid. he shakes his head indicating the sweet commotion to be nothing.
“i’ve heard it all now c’mon.” you take a step forward to stand right in front of him.
maki lets out a sigh of defeat, his lips pressing into a thin line, dimples popping out adorably. he opens the tiny box, arms resting on either sides of his torso. his eyes flicker between you and the tiny ring that encircled itself around a thin, silver chain, which rested oh so beautifully against the velvet base of the box.
your mouth falls agape at how stunning yet simple the neck piece looks. simple and stunning? that's what you were to him.
“i uhhh… actually forgot everything I planned to say initially but uhh..” his voice trails off, nervousness getting the best of him. with a deep inhale, he starts again.
“i really like you, noona.” heart flutter. you nod.
“I've liked you since the day i saw you. you're probably one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I know it seems like I'm being too intense with my emotions right now, but I just think that's how i feel. There's not a day that goes by without me wanting to be yours and wanting to make you mine.”
an uncontrollable smile creeps up to your features, your hand almost raising up to cover your face in order to hide the blood that rushed to your cheeks. oh he was so utterly adorable.
“and this necklace. I initially wanted to buy you a ring, maybe like a promise ring? I know it's too soon but i would like to pledge my loyalty to you, you know?”
a laugh erupts from your mouth at such deep words that he had used to describe his loyalty, a laugh purely out of adoration and love for the younger man.
Maki's face turns into a question mark, along with a dimpled smile that appears caused by your contagious laugh.
“why are you laughinggg???!!!”
“pledge your loyalty to me? what are you? a knight?” your laugh dies down with your question, the remains of it still playing on your lips.
“i mean i could be. noona’s knight in shining armour?” he shrugs.
“anyways what i wanted to say is, i promise to be the best boyfriend ever and i promise to treat you better than any man you've ever met. noona, would you like to be my girlfrie—”
“yes”
“let me finis—”
“i cannot wait to kiss you, you're so damn cute.”
you step forward, palms cradling his face as you press your lips onto his softly. maki kisses you back so sincerely, hands gently and respectfully resting on your waist, his body hovering against yours while his brain does a good job at holding him back from completely dissolving into your touch.
“riki wilhelm maus, yes, i will be your girlfriend.” you say as you pull away, your finger reaching to boop his nose, your waist now attached to his hip while his arms completely wrapped around you.
his face displays the widest grin you've ever seen, and oh those cutest little dimples in the world make your heart skip multiple beats.
“sooo…” his eyes wander all over your face and the pretty smile that took over your face and he speaks, “do I still call you noona?” he tilts his head in question.
“yes?? I love it when you call me that.” you reply and a giggle erupts in response, as he brings you closer to bury his face in your neck.
younger bf! maki who's so so smitten and would cherish such a moment forever, often giggling over it every now and then. his friends were definitely gonna hear the end of it and his heart would never forget the swell of his chest that he had felt at that very moment.
𝑺𝒚𝒏: where you have to spell it out for maki that you like him... 𖹭
𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: maki x f!reader
𝑪𝑾: friendzoning, reader panics for a minute but nothing major, tiiiniest bit of angst then comfort but everything is just pure fluff i can't begin to explain how fluffy this is
𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 5,355 words
𝑨/𝑵: was surprised when i saw sm of u asking for a pt. 2 so here it is (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) !! this has been in my drafts for abt a month now v sorry abt that (╥﹏╥). wanted this to show the ups and downs that go through having a crush to suddenly confessing, especially as a shy girl myself SO as always, pls enjoy! ☆
Part 1 // Part 2
this has been the third time since your eyes have met maki's eyes.
the first time, you looked up and found him sitting in the front rows of the lecture hall. his body was twisted sideways as he looked around the hall before landing on you, holding eye contact for a second too long.
the second time, you glanced up once more and found him turned all the way around, sitting on the bench legs crisscrossed as he leaned his head on the bench that was supposed to be behind him. you looked back down at your notebook, convincing yourself that he only held eye contact again because he had zoned out.
the third time was definitely not a coincidence. maki was looking directly at you. keeping his eye contact with you as he stayed in the same position. as you pieced it together, you brain flooded with panic.
what if he knows about the drawings? did harua tell him? or could it be jo? no, jo wouldn't. but taki definitely would. did i leave the notebook somewhere? is it still with me? oh god, does he have it—
the color drained from your face the more you spiraled. hesitant eyes glanced one last time at maki, hoping they wouldn't catch those same gentle eyes in your line of sight.
there he was, cheek now pressed against his arm as he leaned comfortably on the raised bench, as if waiting for you to acknowledge him, to give him your attention.
you froze, head raising slightly as your lips parted when maki waved. at you. a soft smile on his face when he saw how speechless you were. he waved at you once more then gestured for you to reciprocate, snapping you out of your own thoughts.
a shaky hand rose with the slightest wave at him, receiving a deep dimpled smile from him as he mouthed something to you. your squinting, hazy eyes couldn't catch the motions, unable to make out the words he was airing out loud.
with eyebrows furrowed and a concentrated expression, maki went to stand but was cut off by the professor's arrival, who had come thirty minutes late. usually, you'd be out the door by the ten-minute mark. you look over at maki, who now had his back to you, sitting upright in his seat. you wonder what made you wait these extra twenty minutes.
by the time the lecture was over, you'd grown sleepier and more tired. you hadn't focused on the lecture at all, unable to concentrate on the complicated concepts that were being thrown at you to somehow digest. your fingers fiddled with the inked pen in your hand, finding their way to a blank area on the page filled with miscellaneous notes.
you looked at the lecturer one more time, eyes naturally drifting around until they land on a familiar neck. you study the way his short hair falls in a gradient-like manner, curved to the inside of his neck. the top of his hair a little bushy, stray hairs swaying around when the cool air hit them. the skin on the nape of his neck was smooth, riddled with varying sizes of freckles and moles.
you lick your chapped lips, throat going dry as you meet the tip of your pen to the paper, making a mental note to buy more lip balm soon. the quiet scratches of the paper filled the silence around you. you didn't need to look up more than twice — his features already branded into memory.
your fingers stop right as you're about to draw the curve of his eyelids. you blink, realizing you're doing it again. slamming the notebook shut, the sound rang a little louder than intended. you cringe, throwing a quick glance around to check if anyone noticed.
a breath left you as you leaned against the bench, wondering if this lecture would ever end. you feel yourself nodding off, eyelids too heavy to hold open. the world felt slow, the words spoken into the microphone faded in and out with every blink till the weight of your head sank fully into your arms.
a light tickle brushed your face, making you stir as you let out a sound.
you squint as you lean back on the wooden bench, the bright overhead lights too harsh on your sleepy eyes. rubbing them, you look to one side, no one was there. so, you really did fall asleep the entire lecture. another rub to your face, you begin gathering your things with a sigh.
"am i that unnoticeable?"
you yelp out loud, the sudden deep voice from your other side that you hadn't checked nearly sending you flying off your seat. maki quickly reaches out to hold you by the arm, surprised by how startled you are.
"m-ma-" you try to speak, heart hammering loud in your ears as you scramble to fix your position. you clear your throat, looking at maki but unable to hold his intense gaze for too long, eyes dropping down to your bag that fell when you nearly jumped out of your skin.
"sorry, i thought you knew i was here." maki's apologetic voice hits you hard in the chest.
"n-no, no, it's fine." you shake your head. "i should've noticed you beside me. um, yeah, sorry."
internally facepalming at how you stumbled over your words, you bend to grab the things that scattered around when you floundered, then freezing. your notebook thrown open on the ground, pages filled with your guilty sketches threatening to peek from behind the organized notes.
you rush towards it, pages crinkling as you shove your things into your bag. you find maki handing you one of your pens, another apology falling from his luscious pink lips.
you swallow, throat dry, as you shakily take the pen and toss it in your bag with the rest of your things. you stand a bit too quickly, maki rising with you as he trails just a step behind.
you turn, raising an eyebrow at him, "shouldn't you…" you gesture vaguely, "um, you know, be with your friends?"
"i am with my friend!" he says with a smile as he throws a wink your way.
friend. the word rings in your ears. your heart slowly getting chipped away at as if a woodpecker had decided you're the perfect tree to dig through for worms. the hollow ache of the words rattling around in your skull as they dance with the fine pencil carvings of him that flash before your eyes as you gaze at his wide smile.
in the end, just a friend.
"ah, aha-ha," you let out a pathetic excuse of a laugh as you nod, awkwardly looking around to avoid his intense gaze. you're not even sure if the smile that was barely stretched on your face stayed there or dropped.
"ah, so, we're not even friends?" maki's mumble should've been quiet, only loud enough for him to hear, but it echoed, hitting you square in the chest.
"no!" you exclaim, feet moving before your brain catches up. you step closer to him, hand finding his, grip tight and desperate that you don't realize that you're holding him with your clammy hands until you felt the warmth of his palms against yours.
"of course, we're friends!" eyes wide and grip tightening as you shake your head, suddenly brave enough to hold his stare as he looks down at your joined hands, his own hand slowly wrapping around your trembling fingers. "we're good friends, even!"
his expression softens, that adorable smile that never failed to make your heart race with familiar indents coming back as it stretches across his face.
"alright," his voice warm as he speaks."guess we're good friends then."
you blink rapidly, processing his words, the situation you've just put yourself in, the words that spilled out your mouth. with a clear of your throat, you peel your hand away from his, maki holding on for a beat too long before also releasing you. you cringe again, too aware of the sweat you've left behind on his skin.
you mumble an apology, taking a step back to restore the previous distance you'd closed moments ago. your grip on the strap of your bag tightens as your eyes catch the time on your phone. 4:56 pm. you should've been home almost an hour ago.
"i— uhm," you clear your throat once again, making a mental note to buy some water on your way home. "i gotta go home now." eyes landing on the way his eyebrows tighten, head nodding slowly as he points behind him.
"i could give you a ride home, if you want." he offers, and your brain just about short-circuits. a ride. with maki. in maki's car. alone. with maki.
your breath hitches, head shaking violently in response. you can't even trust your voice to say anything other than a squeak right now. if you take him up on that offer, who knows what might happen. you combusting right in front of him in the passenger seat wouldn't exactly be ideal.
"i don't mean to force anything on you," maki raises his hands up as a sign of reassurance. his eyes seem softer when they look at you now.
"bus," you blurt out. you feel your cheeks burning up, "i'll just take the bus. uh, i always take the bus. so… it's fine, really." your clammy, shaky hands lock together, feeling the sweat building up between your palms.
mentally kicking yourself for acting like a fool in front of maki, you give him a quick bow of your head and whip around, legs carrying you fast out the door; you've embarrassed yourself enough in front of him.
"hey, wait up!"
maki jogs after you. his shoulder brushes yours as he matches your pace of walking. "let's ride the bus together!"
a bewildered look crosses your face. "but your car…"
"that's fine, it's in the parking lot, anyway," he brushes you off, his feet matching your steps as he slows himself down. that same smile that never left his face now wider, indents deeper. his bright eyes slowly covered by the rise of his cheeks.
the walk to the bus stop is a blur, too focused on calming your own heartbeat as maki went on to talk about a new game he'd bought followed by your infrequent hums and nods. the occasional brush of his hand against yours never going unnoticed.
when the bus arrived, you slipped into the nearest window seat in front of the automatic doors. maki followed suit, sliding in beside you.
the bus itself is occupied by a handful of people, scattered around randomly between the seats. the ride is filled with comfortable silence accompanied by the quiet hum of the bus and squeaking of its brakes. the large interior of the bus suddenly felt small like the world had shrunk around the two of you.
you thought maki would take the lead in a conversation, filling the air with his barking laughs and various animated expressions that you usually admired silently from afar when he'd chat with his friends.
but he's now seated beside you, arms hugging his bag in front of him as he leans his head against the pole. the warmth from his jacket— the same one he wore at the café— seeped through yours. his eyes are closed, head gently swaying in rhythm with the bus's frequent stops. as you sneakily catch glances of him, your mind wanders, lost in the familiar lines of him.
you catch the subtle shift in his eyelids. looking away, you hastily dig through your bag, pulling out a pair of earphones. they're old and wired, but they make you comfortable. you slip one ear piece in and turn your head away from the cause of your racing heartbeat.
the song that shuffles on is soft, the gentle hum of the intro makes you feel like you were in a classic bus ride scene in a k-drama. you let out a breath and slump against the window. the glass is cold against your temple as your head rocks against it, a reminder that this is real life, not a scene.
you shift in your seat and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. the ride felt longer than usual—probably because you weren't zoning out for once, or maybe because maki was right there, so close to you that you could make out the small moles that dusted the side of his face, the same ones your pencil traced over and over that you'd memorized them without permission.
your eyes watch the way his head bobs with every lurch of the bus, but when the bus suddenly picks up speed on a particularly empty road, maki is jerked forward. his head heading straight towards the metal handrails in front of him.
once again, your body moves before you think, hand reaching out as it slaps against his forehead, flattening against the railing. you bite down on your lip, a low choked sound barely heard as your knuckles take the hit instead. maki jerks awake, eyes shifting between the railing, your hand, and the bus driver.
"what just—" he starts, the answer obvious as his eyes drop to your hand that you quickly retracted.
"are you okay— oh god, your hand," his hand finds yours, inspecting it as he flips it every which way. it hurts, but when he unconsciously presses down on one specific knuckle, you hiss.
"shit." you gasp, finally taking a good look at his face: eyebrows furrowed, nose scrunched up slightly, lips pulled tight that it has two dips forming on each of his cheeks—not in a smile but in regret that he was the cause of your pain.
he brings out his water bottle that was comfortably cold to the touch but felt like ice against your inflamed, angry hand. your hand shakily covers his that was holding onto yours so tightly yet so gently, "it's okay—i'm fine, i promise."
"that doesn't look fine." maki only throws you a look.
you could only stay silent, his hand still holding your injured one tightly as he refuses to let go. somehow, this time, your heart is squeezing but not from nervousness. his face comes into view, catching the red under his eyes. he looks up at the flickering electronic display to check how long you until your stop.
he stands, gathering his things. hand falling back in your lap, the ache in your heart grows, missing the weight of his warmth in yours as you use your good hand to pack your own things when your bag is snatched away. he doesn't shove your phone in your bag like he did his own, instead careful as he places everything inside, organized and clean.
he throws your bag on his other shoulder and holds his hand out, eyes still focused on hand that cushioned his fall. you slowly give it to him, letting him pull you up to make your way to the door when the bus stopped.
the bus pulls away, the wind whipping your hair against your face. pushing it back, you watch him. his bangs shift slightly, revealing the faint red mark from where your hand slapped against his forehead earlier. he simply stands there, still holding your hand as you begin to feel embarrassed by how long he's been holding it.
"um, maki," you start, fingers playing with a stray thread on your clothes. "i'm doing okay, so i can carry my own bag now and… my house is that way," you vaguely point at the direction of your house.
he doesn't seem interested in what you have to say, eyes still fixated on your hand that you could barely move now as it starts to swell, "we're going to the hospital."
he tugs you along with him as you babble in denial, words tumbling in a desperate rush, "hospital?! i'm fine, maki, i swear i feel great! we don't have to do this, it doesn't even hurt that bad—"
he suddenly spins around, and you stumble on your words when he steps closer to you. he's too close—way too close for you to maintain his intense eye contact. you look away, still uselessly pulling on your arm that he's been holding by the wrist.
"doesn't hurt that bad, huh?" he presses ever so gently on your knuckle, and that has you flinching, body bending with the pressure as pain shoots up your arm. you curse yourself for having the pain tolerance of a toddler.
"why are you acting like i'm doing something heroic? you're hurt," he raises your hand as if an example, "and i have the responsibility to take care of you."
even with your hand hurting so bad that you think it'd be easier to live by cutting it off, his last two words jump around in your head like ping-pong balls. take care of you, take care of…
you hold his gaze this time, feeling your cheeks light up with heat as you can barely hold yourself up in front of him, "i'm fine. you need to go home."
you point at his chest, finger barely grazing the fabric of his shirt. then he takes a step closer, finger jabbing into his solid muscle, now holding both your hands as he leaves you frozen, the blood rushing to your head as your cheeks flush to a shade of pink.
"i won't force you to do something you don't want to do," his voice is gentle again, the grip on your hands softening as he lets the injured one go, "but at least let me repay you for it."
"you really don't have to. i did nothing—"
"i'll get you ice cream and coffee." your refusal lingers on your tongue as you think about it. your favorite combo with your favorite person. he really knows how to strike an intriguing deal.
your eyes shift between his hopeful ones briefly, only to look away in shame as you can't bring yourself to refuse the tempting offer. a small nod from you has maki smiling from ear to ear, practically leaping as he points towards a specific direction. he grabs your uninjured hand now, like it's natural for him to be so close to you, so touchy with you.
you try to calm down once again, heated knuckles touching your heated skin making no difference, totally forgetting about the blood that pulsed painfully through your hand just minutes ago.
before going to the café maki suggested, you drop by a local pharmacy, buying some cooling gel and gauze to wrap.
when you arrive at the café, you take a seat outside in the open area. you scan the street, illuminated by the warm glow of the lamp poles. your eyes take in the shadows that fell from the buildings, shielding the trees and bushes that rooted themselves perfectly between every stairway.
with your orders in hand, maki sits down opposite you. his smile is soft as he passes you your drink, and you return with one of your own.
conversation flows easily between the two of you, soft and unhurried. you find yourself forgetting about your obsession with him, instead clinging to the real maki sitting in front of you as he questions and pries more about you. you do the same, asking him questions about his family, close friends, and he throws in stories about his childhood, where he grew up, the places that shaped him.
you feel closer to him—not physically, but emotionally, like you've finally opened your eyes to understand the maki seated across from you, not the maki you've fantasized about. your eyes sneak a glance at your backpack that holds your notebook, the same one you'd pull out whenever the same man sitting across from you lingered in your thoughts.
yet somehow, you don't feel the need to draw. your hand doesn't itch for the pencil as it leaves traces behind on the blank paper. only your eyes are focused on him, his bright smile that shines more beautifully than the scenery behind him.
in this moment, nothing could compare to his beauty.
with a little coffee left in your cup, maki gestures at the bag of first aid sitting beside you. he pulls his chair closer, offering to wrap your hand. it's quiet as he gently spreads the gel around the red skin—the striking contrast between the heat from your body and the relief of coolness almost has you sighing.
a part of you realizes that you really have grown comfortable. usually, this would send you over into a spiral, and yet you're sitting down, heart racing just enough from being so close to him, hand extended as you patiently wait for him to finish. your hand finds your chest, rubbing in small circles to steady yourself before you lose composure.
"hey," maki starts, snapping you out of your daze, "you know, i've always tried to get closer to you."
you blink once, you don't dare blink again. "what?"
"yeah." maki chuckles, looking at you through his bangs as he wears that same amused expression he always has.
"you just… you never really gave me permission to press further." he looks down at his own hands, fingers fiddling with the ring on his pinky. "whenever i'd come around, you'd just… shut off. i'd see the way you laughed and cracked jokes with harua or jo, and yet whenever i came around, somehow that all fades, and you stay quiet."
you're speechless. your mind chants one thought: he thinks you're avoiding him because you hate him.
"no—i—maki, no," your voice cracks under the pressure, your heart pounding against your chest as you feel it rising in your throat. "that's not—"
"i know you're not too fond of me," his voice drops at the end, but he suddenly lifts his head up at you, making you jerk away—surprised at his sudden action. "but that's okay, i'll just have to prove to you that i am likable, right?"
he brings your wrapped hand closer, leaving the gentlest kiss to your highest knuckle. his eyebrows are slightly pressed together as if focused on not hurting you. he looks up once more, expression dropping from a small smile to concern as he gazes at the tears that have welled up in your eyes.
your heart chips away as if someone was knocking at it with a hammer. you firmly shake your head. you've never hated your inability to speak more than you do in this moment.
your eyes squeeze shut, hands covering your face to suppress the tears that threatened to fall—unsure if their existence was from anger at yourself, or sadness that he could ever think you didn't want him around.
his revelation to you hurts like no other. you can't think straight anymore, thoughts too plagued by the realization that this entire time, maki thought you didn't like him. that you didn't want to be close to him. that you hated him. the world felt cruel for not making you able to speak about your thoughts at will, always pressing them down.
maki waits, watching as you try to trust your voice to say anything, lips parting, but nothing comes out.
fuck it, you think. yanking your hands out of his grasp, you reach for the bag that was hung on his chair. he quickly stops you, hands wrapping around yours once again.
your red eyes meet his, which flicker rapidly between yours.
you blink the tears blurring your vision away, hands holding his as you shake your head. when his grip softens, you reach for the bag. you can barely see through the tears, but your fingers find that specific notebook you've cherished and protected for months.
you flip it open to a random page, showing him the pieces of art you've drawn since you discovered how awfully in love with him you are. your eyes follow his every move. the way he gazes over the entire page, his mouth opening and closing as broken sounds leave him, bewildered by what's in front of him.
his fingers hover over a specific drawing: the one you drew at the last café, when you felt like your heart would burst into pieces had he sneaked a look at it. yet here he is, fingers tracing the pencil strokes that were etched deep in the paper.
a small breath escapes him, almost as if a chuckle. his eyes flick over each page as he turns them over, admiring each one, and when you think he's drawn to a specific drawing, he traces it. but the entire time—he hasn't looked up at you once, eyes trained on the sketches.
"this is…" he speaks up for the first time, startling you. "it's all me."
you don't answer, looking down at his fingers that continued to trace over the fine lines that filled the page. a pang shoots through the side of your head from holding your breath for so long to hold back your tears. a long inhale enters your lungs as you exhale shakily, opening your eyes once again to see his eyes looking straight at yours. the notebook now lying in his lap as the papers flutter gently with the cool wind.
"they're beautiful." maki's voice is so stable and gentle, so reassuring that it has the tears you've been fighting returning, filling your eyes once more.
you can't hold them back anymore. too tired. too overwhelmed. the relief of finally showing him, the sudden push of exposing your deepest secret instead of using your voice has the world spinning under your feet. your hands cover your face as tears lightly spill out your eyes every time you blink.
in the smallest voice you can muster, "i like you."
the fluttering of the pages stop, the soft snap of the notebook closing has the tears flowing even more. your brain hasn't stopped overflowing with ideas that plagued your head until you feel the softest touch on your shoulder. the scent of him growing stronger as he leans closer towards you, fingers tapping your shoulder as his other takes a hold of your hands in one of his.
slowly lowering your hands in your lap, his hand rubs small circles on your fingers, cupping them gently. his face comes into view as he bends down ahead of you. you get lost in his wide bright eyes that look up at you, the smallest hint of a smile that plays on his lips.
"i can't hear you when your face is covered like that," his voice is no louder than a whisper, as if enveloping you in warmth.
you sniffle, tears stopping as you calm down, counting the circles he's been rubbing on your knuckles. maybe it's the adrenaline that coursed through you, or the tears that blurred your vision , or maybe it's the relief of not carrying this heavy secret anymore, but you speak up, eyes trained on his face—more confident than before.
"i said i like you. i-i've liked you since i met you, maki. these drawings—they're all of you because you're the only thing i ever think about. i've never experienced a love so deep like this and…" a small gasp leaves you as you think your words through. "i don't know what to do anymore."
now, you're left to wonder if he has the heart to refuse you in public.
another sniffle leaves you as his hand reaches for your face. the warmth of him flowing through your face, his scent enveloping you as you take a deep breath, like fresh air washed over you. your breath comes out in stutters as you grip his hand with your wrapped hand, too weak to actually put any pressure.
his face has never been softer; his eyes look at you like they could store a decade's supply of adoration in them, his cheeks lift up ever so slightly as they flush the faintest pink, and his smile—the same one you've fallen in love with—just as warm though wider as his dimples are deeper.
almost as if confessing through his features, you begin to think this isn't real life anymore—this has to be a scene in a movie. you blink rapidly, trying to snap out of it, when maki's fingers find your chin, he turns your gaze back to him.
his grip on your hand, paired with the hold he has on your face, almost sends you into another wave of panic. he's so close to you that you can see how his pupils are blown out, his lashes shifting slightly as his gaze drops from your eyes to your lips.
they stay there for what feels like hours before they flick back up to yours that were filled with mixed emotions. when you look down once more, you're reminded of the position you're in. this has been exactly what you've been dreaming of—this closeness to your one and only instead of admiring from afar, but your brain isn't quick to register that. it begs you to remove yourself from the situation before it becomes embarrassing.
maki's grip on your chin is tightens, firm as he holds your face in place. he lets out a breath as he tilts his head up to place a warm kiss to your forehead. he presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed as he simply breathes.
when he opens his eyes again, you can read it in his eyes before he says it: "i like you too."
his thumb traces a line along your jaw as it trembles. "i've liked you longer than i realized."
you can barely hold back the choked sound that escapes you, eyes squeezing shut as you try to contain the feelings that rush through you. the overwhelming sadness that rushes through you collides with relief as excitement washes over you. it felt like you've been reborn, knowing that your feelings are reciprocated.
you gently take the hand that held your jaw, bringing it to your lips as you press a soft kiss into his palm. your entire body shakes as you let out another sigh, a string of mutters leaves you as you chant how much you adore him right to his face. maki can only chuckle, fond of the way your demeanor changed entirely.
cupping his hand to your cheek, you nuzzle into it, relishing in being able to finally be in comfortable contact with him without over thinking your decisions. his thumb rubs your cheek, bringing your attention to him as his eyes linger on your lips once again.
"maki…" your voice vibrates in his hand, sending chills down his spine.
"can i…" he trails off, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip.
when you give a short nod, he leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away. his eyes watch you, fingers still holding you in place. when you don't move, his lips meet yours. electricity flows through you that it has your chest aching. your hand curls up into a fist, pressing it against his chest as your eyes squeeze shut.
your mind goes quiet, forgetting how to breathe as he envelopes all your senses. all you can register is him—the warmth of his lips, the faint scent that lingers around you, the way his fingers trembled, moving from your face to the side of your neck.
when he pulls back, you're breathless, eyes still closed as you press your forehead to his this time.
"you okay?" he asks, voice barely over a whisper.
when you open your eyes, you're met with the slight flush of his cheeks, his sweet smile is contagious as it spreads on your face before you can stop it.
you move without thinking again, arms wrapping around his neck, humming. "i'm… processing."
he laughs softly—not his usual cackle, "take your time. i'm not going anywhere." 𖹭
