Everyone always talks about the beauty of growing old, but no one ever talks about the anxiety that comes with it.
a/n: I got one final attempt left in me.
content+warnings: mentions of anxiety, some angst, vaginal penetration, birthday sex, cunnilingus.
Keiji never cared much for birthdays, serving no purpose but reminding him that he was getting older.
He might’ve even forgotten if it weren’t for the happy birthday texts he received from the old Fukurodani squad and the gift Tenma left on his desk.
There’s a bitter taste on his tongue when he reminds himself how half of them are either married or engaged, some even expecting children — it leaves Akaashi with a tinge of melancholy.
He’s exhausted— eyes burning with the consequences of his desperation to meet a deadline that forced him awake nearly all night and left heavy bags beneath them that showed even more apparent the next day. His hair was disheveled, dark locks tousled messily against his head — and even his glasses had difficulty staying on his face and lay crooked across his skin.
As if his day couldn’t be even more inconvenienced, the patter of rain pelts down to the ground. It’s not a light shower but a heavy onslaught of thick raindrops, and Akaashi regrets not bringing his umbrella with him the more the water soaks him and drips from his hair like a tiny faucet.
Another day, he mumbles as he forces his legs to move up the stairs toward his home, his clothes dripping water with each step.
He fumbles with the pocket of his jeans; there’s a rattling noise until he fishes out what he needs; his keys, shoving them into the lock of his door without haste.
Everyone always talks about the beauty of growing old, but no one ever talks about the anxiety that comes with it.
a/n: I got one final attempt left in me.
content+warnings: mentions of anxiety, some angst, vaginal penetration, birthday sex, cunnilingus.
Keiji never cared much for birthdays, serving no purpose but reminding him that he was getting older.
He might’ve even forgotten if it weren’t for the happy birthday texts he received from the old Fukurodani squad and the gift Tenma left on his desk.
There’s a bitter taste on his tongue when he reminds himself how half of them are either married or engaged, some even expecting children — it leaves Akaashi with a tinge of melancholy.
He’s exhausted— eyes burning with the consequences of his desperation to meet a deadline that forced him awake nearly all night and left heavy bags beneath them that showed even more apparent the next day. His hair was disheveled, dark locks tousled messily against his head — and even his glasses had difficulty staying on his face and lay crooked across his skin.
As if his day couldn’t be even more inconvenienced, the patter of rain pelts down to the ground. It’s not a light shower but a heavy onslaught of thick raindrops, and Akaashi regrets not bringing his umbrella with him the more the water soaks him and drips from his hair like a tiny faucet.
Another day, he mumbles as he forces his legs to move up the stairs toward his home, his clothes dripping water with each step.
He fumbles with the pocket of his jeans; there’s a rattling noise until he fishes out what he needs; his keys, shoving them into the lock of his door without haste.
Everyone always talks about the beauty of growing old, but no one ever talks about the anxiety that comes with it.
a/n: I got one final attempt left in me.
content+warnings: mentions of anxiety, some angst, vaginal penetration, birthday sex, cunnilingus.
Keiji never cared much for birthdays, serving no purpose but reminding him that he was getting older.
He might’ve even forgotten if it weren’t for the happy birthday texts he received from the old Fukurodani squad and the gift Tenma left on his desk.
There’s a bitter taste on his tongue when he reminds himself how half of them are either married or engaged, some even expecting children — it leaves Akaashi with a tinge of melancholy.
He’s exhausted— eyes burning with the consequences of his desperation to meet a deadline that forced him awake nearly all night and left heavy bags beneath them that showed even more apparent the next day. His hair was disheveled, dark locks tousled messily against his head — and even his glasses had difficulty staying on his face and lay crooked across his skin.
As if his day couldn’t be even more inconvenienced, the patter of rain pelts down to the ground. It’s not a light shower but a heavy onslaught of thick raindrops, and Akaashi regrets not bringing his umbrella with him the more the water soaks him and drips from his hair like a tiny faucet.
Another day, he mumbles as he forces his legs to move up the stairs toward his home, his clothes dripping water with each step.
He fumbles with the pocket of his jeans; there’s a rattling noise until he fishes out what he needs; his keys, shoving them into the lock of his door without haste.
Everyone always talks about the beauty of growing old, but no one ever talks about the anxiety that comes with it.
a/n: I got one final attempt left in me.
content+warnings: mentions of anxiety, some angst, vaginal penetration, birthday sex, cunnilingus.
Keiji never cared much for birthdays, serving no purpose but reminding him that he was getting older.
He might’ve even forgotten if it weren’t for the happy birthday texts he received from the old Fukurodani squad and the gift Tenma left on his desk.
There’s a bitter taste on his tongue when he reminds himself how half of them are either married or engaged, some even expecting children — it leaves Akaashi with a tinge of melancholy.
He’s exhausted— eyes burning with the consequences of his desperation to meet a deadline that forced him awake nearly all night and left heavy bags beneath them that showed even more apparent the next day. His hair was disheveled, dark locks tousled messily against his head — and even his glasses had difficulty staying on his face and lay crooked across his skin.
As if his day couldn’t be even more inconvenienced, the patter of rain pelts down to the ground. It’s not a light shower but a heavy onslaught of thick raindrops, and Akaashi regrets not bringing his umbrella with him the more the water soaks him and drips from his hair like a tiny faucet.
Another day, he mumbles as he forces his legs to move up the stairs toward his home, his clothes dripping water with each step.
He fumbles with the pocket of his jeans; there’s a rattling noise until he fishes out what he needs; his keys, shoving them into the lock of his door without haste.
Everyone always talks about the beauty of growing old, but no one ever talks about the anxiety that comes with it.
a/n: I got one final attempt left in me.
content+warnings: mentions of anxiety, some angst, vaginal penetration, birthday sex, cunnilingus.
Keiji never cared much for birthdays, serving no purpose but reminding him that he was getting older.
He might’ve even forgotten if it weren’t for the happy birthday texts he received from the old Fukurodani squad and the gift Tenma left on his desk.
There’s a bitter taste on his tongue when he reminds himself how half of them are either married or engaged, some even expecting children — it leaves Akaashi with a tinge of melancholy.
He’s exhausted— eyes burning with the consequences of his desperation to meet a deadline that forced him awake nearly all night and left heavy bags beneath them that showed even more apparent the next day. His hair was disheveled, dark locks tousled messily against his head — and even his glasses had difficulty staying on his face and lay crooked across his skin.
As if his day couldn’t be even more inconvenienced, the patter of rain pelts down to the ground. It’s not a light shower but a heavy onslaught of thick raindrops, and Akaashi regrets not bringing his umbrella with him the more the water soaks him and drips from his hair like a tiny faucet.
Another day, he mumbles as he forces his legs to move up the stairs toward his home, his clothes dripping water with each step.
He fumbles with the pocket of his jeans; there’s a rattling noise until he fishes out what he needs; his keys, shoving them into the lock of his door without haste.
Everyone always talks about the beauty of growing old, but no one ever talks about the anxiety that comes with it.
a/n: I got one final attempt left in me.
content+warnings: mentions of anxiety, some angst, vaginal penetration, birthday sex, cunnilingus.
Keiji never cared much for birthdays, serving no purpose but reminding him that he was getting older.
He might’ve even forgotten if it weren’t for the happy birthday texts he received from the old Fukurodani squad and the gift Tenma left on his desk.
There’s a bitter taste on his tongue when he reminds himself how half of them are either married or engaged, some even expecting children — it leaves Akaashi with a tinge of melancholy.
He’s exhausted— eyes burning with the consequences of his desperation to meet a deadline that forced him awake nearly all night and left heavy bags beneath them that showed even more apparent the next day. His hair was disheveled, dark locks tousled messily against his head — and even his glasses had difficulty staying on his face and lay crooked across his skin.
As if his day couldn’t be even more inconvenienced, the patter of rain pelts down to the ground. It’s not a light shower but a heavy onslaught of thick raindrops, and Akaashi regrets not bringing his umbrella with him the more the water soaks him and drips from his hair like a tiny faucet.
Another day, he mumbles as he forces his legs to move up the stairs toward his home, his clothes dripping water with each step.
He fumbles with the pocket of his jeans; there’s a rattling noise until he fishes out what he needs; his keys, shoving them into the lock of his door without haste.
Everyone always talks about the beauty of growing old, but no one ever talks about the anxiety that comes with it.
a/n: I got one final attempt left in me.
content+warnings: mentions of anxiety, some angst, vaginal penetration, birthday sex, cunnilingus.
Keiji never cared much for birthdays, serving no purpose but reminding him that he was getting older.
He might’ve even forgotten if it weren’t for the happy birthday texts he received from the old Fukurodani squad and the gift Tenma left on his desk.
There’s a bitter taste on his tongue when he reminds himself how half of them are either married or engaged, some even expecting children — it leaves Akaashi with a tinge of melancholy.
He’s exhausted— eyes burning with the consequences of his desperation to meet a deadline that forced him awake nearly all night and left heavy bags beneath them that showed even more apparent the next day. His hair was disheveled, dark locks tousled messily against his head — and even his glasses had difficulty staying on his face and lay crooked across his skin.
As if his day couldn’t be even more inconvenienced, the patter of rain pelts down to the ground. It’s not a light shower but a heavy onslaught of thick raindrops, and Akaashi regrets not bringing his umbrella with him the more the water soaks him and drips from his hair like a tiny faucet.
Another day, he mumbles as he forces his legs to move up the stairs toward his home, his clothes dripping water with each step.
He fumbles with the pocket of his jeans; there’s a rattling noise until he fishes out what he needs; his keys, shoving them into the lock of his door without haste.
Everyone always talks about the beauty of growing old, but no one ever talks about the anxiety that comes with it.
a/n: I got one final attempt left in me.
content+warnings: mentions of anxiety, some angst, vaginal penetration, birthday sex, cunnilingus.
Keiji never cared much for birthdays, serving no purpose but reminding him that he was getting older.
He might’ve even forgotten if it weren’t for the happy birthday texts he received from the old Fukurodani squad and the gift Tenma left on his desk.
There’s a bitter taste on his tongue when he reminds himself how half of them are either married or engaged, some even expecting children — it leaves Akaashi with a tinge of melancholy.
He’s exhausted— eyes burning with the consequences of his desperation to meet a deadline that forced him awake nearly all night and left heavy bags beneath them that showed even more apparent the next day. His hair was disheveled, dark locks tousled messily against his head — and even his glasses had difficulty staying on his face and lay crooked across his skin.
As if his day couldn’t be even more inconvenienced, the patter of rain pelts down to the ground. It’s not a light shower but a heavy onslaught of thick raindrops, and Akaashi regrets not bringing his umbrella with him the more the water soaks him and drips from his hair like a tiny faucet.
Another day, he mumbles as he forces his legs to move up the stairs toward his home, his clothes dripping water with each step.
He fumbles with the pocket of his jeans; there’s a rattling noise until he fishes out what he needs; his keys, shoving them into the lock of his door without haste.
Everyone always talks about the beauty of growing old, but no one ever talks about the anxiety that comes with it.
a/n: I got one final attempt left in me.
content+warnings: mentions of anxiety, some angst, vaginal penetration, birthday sex, cunnilingus.
Keiji never cared much for birthdays, serving no purpose but reminding him that he was getting older.
He might’ve even forgotten if it weren’t for the happy birthday texts he received from the old Fukurodani squad and the gift Tenma left on his desk.
There’s a bitter taste on his tongue when he reminds himself how half of them are either married or engaged, some even expecting children — it leaves Akaashi with a tinge of melancholy.
He’s exhausted— eyes burning with the consequences of his desperation to meet a deadline that forced him awake nearly all night and left heavy bags beneath them that showed even more apparent the next day. His hair was disheveled, dark locks tousled messily against his head — and even his glasses had difficulty staying on his face and lay crooked across his skin.
As if his day couldn’t be even more inconvenienced, the patter of rain pelts down to the ground. It’s not a light shower but a heavy onslaught of thick raindrops, and Akaashi regrets not bringing his umbrella with him the more the water soaks him and drips from his hair like a tiny faucet.
Another day, he mumbles as he forces his legs to move up the stairs toward his home, his clothes dripping water with each step.
He fumbles with the pocket of his jeans; there’s a rattling noise until he fishes out what he needs; his keys, shoving them into the lock of his door without haste.
Everyone always talks about the beauty of growing old, but no one ever talks about the anxiety that comes with it.
a/n: I got one final attempt left in me.
content+warnings: mentions of anxiety, some angst, vaginal penetration, birthday sex, cunnilingus.
Keiji never cared much for birthdays, serving no purpose but reminding him that he was getting older.
He might've even forgotten if it weren't for the happy birthday texts he received from the old Fukurodani squad and the gift Tenma left on his desk.
There's a bitter taste on his tongue when he reminds himself how half of them are either married or engaged, some even expecting children — it leaves Akaashi with a tinge of melancholy.
He's exhausted— eyes burning with the consequences of his desperation to meet a deadline that forced him awake nearly all night and left heavy bags beneath them that showed even more apparent the next day. His hair was disheveled, dark locks tousled messily against his head — and even his glasses had difficulty staying on his face and lay crooked across his skin.
As if his day couldn't be even more inconvenienced, the patter of rain pelts down to the ground. It's not a light shower but a heavy onslaught of thick raindrops, and Akaashi regrets not bringing his umbrella with him the more the water soaks him and drips from his hair like a tiny faucet.
Another day, he mumbles as he forces his legs to move up the stairs toward his home, his clothes dripping water with each step.
He fumbles with the pocket of his jeans; there's a rattling noise until he fishes out what he needs; his keys, shoving them into the lock of his door without haste.
"Happy birthday!"
Akaashi drops his bags, pupils dilating in surprise before they shrink to their original size. He wasn't expecting you here, at least not at this time. Akaashi faintly recalls the text message you had sent earlier — stating that you'd have to stay late at work due to a coworker's mishap.
"You're home," Akaashi's voice is soft, barely more audible than a whisper.
Home.
Akaashi doesn't dwell on the slip of his tongue, and it's not like you lived with him, although the thought is pleasant — he'd take note to entertain it later.
You look at Akaashi, your eyes softening in concern. Then, placing down the cake, you set it on the counter before making your way toward your lover. "Oh my goodness, you're soaked. Keiji, you look awful."
You help remove the soaking garments from him, throwing them into the laundry basket to be dealt with later when you leave. Akaashi's skin is ice cold against your own, causing you to fuss even more as you worry about his health and the potential hypothermia he may get.
You sigh. Sometimes you feel more like a mother than a girlfriend.
"Keiji, go shower before you get sick," There's no point in arguing; your tone leaves no room for rebuttal as you shoo him away. Your boyfriend merely nods, taking off his shoes and socks before heading to the bathroom.
As soon as you're sure he's out of earshot, you make your way back to the kitchen to get it as clean as possible before you cook a hearty meal.
You shake your head, clicking your tongue with a tsk as your eyes wander to his trash, the bin filled to the top with junk food — ranging from ramen packets, soda cans, chips, and even sweets.
Keiji, you're hopeless.
You hum, tying the trash bag at the top and putting the waste to the side. You'll take it out later. You grab another bag to replace it.
Now let's see, what's in the fridge, you murmur to yourself.
"Ah, nothing,"
You open the fridge in disappointment, eyes traveling to the half-eaten tub of yogurt, some Tupperware of food that you had prepared for him days ago, the few bottles of water, and finally, the one lone head of broccoli.
Jesus, Keiji, you live like a single man. You laugh. It's funny, you think, and it almost makes you wonder how he's managed to survive by himself for the majority of his adulthood.
You're thankful you stopped by the supermarket before heading here. Your woman's intuition kicked in earlier — something in the back of your head telling you that you wouldn't find much in his fridge.
You're surprised that even Akaashi has proper cooking utensils, but they only look like they haven't been touched in ages, the pots and pans having little to no signs of use.
You dice the vegetables carefully, cutting them into small cubes before dropping them into the hot, bubbling broth on the stove burner.
Curry, you've long decided. Something simple, something easy to clean up.
Although your boyfriend doesn't have nearly the same amount of seasoning as you, he barely has the basics, so you do what you can. At least he has an instant rice cooker.
You take a step back, the various smells of spices and vegetables wafting in the air quite pleasantly carried throughout the room by the stove fan. You suppose you have time to kill before the food is finished cooking.
You roam around Akaashi's home until you end up in his room. You can hear the shower still running through the wall. You take the time to go through his wardrobe, picking out the blue pair of pajamas you bought him last Christmas. There are signs of wear along the hems, the stitching coming undone in various places.
There's a warm feeling in your chest, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
I'll sew them up next time.
You place the clothing in your arms and peek your head into the bathroom. There's steam everywhere, and you can see the faint silhouette of Akaashi's body through the glass door. Without a word, you place the pajamas onto the edge of the sink before sneaking out.
+
Turning the knob, Akaashi hangs the shower head back in its holder. The last of the water hits the marble surface of the flooring.
He grabs a towel off the rack, wrapping it around his waist as he steps out.
He notices the pajamas set out for him and figures it's your doing. A small smile tugged at his lips, the tiny gesture making his heart flutter as he looked into the mirror.
And as fast it came, it's gone in the exact fleeting second. Staring into the mirror fills Akaashi with a sense of dread.
"I'm getting old, aren't I?" He says, placing his hand against his face while he traces the outlines of his newly formed wrinkles; a result formed from the process of aging or perhaps his lack of sleep.
There's a pounding in his chest, like a dull ache, and for a reason, he feels uneasy — his anxiety gnawing at his heart.
Deep breaths, deep breaths, Akaashi reminds himself that you're still here and waiting for him downstairs.
He pushes his feelings down, trying to repress them as much as possible before he faces you again.
+
"Keiiiiji! The food is ready!"
"It smells good,"
"Come, I've made you a plate," You gesture to the awkward giant, pointing at the place on the table you had set just for him. "Eat,"
He does as he's told, scooping the curry on his spoon before taking a bite. He hums, and you watch in amusement how his cool eyes light up as he takes another bite.
The texture and the fragrance pleasantly overwhelmed his taste buds.
The flavor has an indescribable taste, and he's not quite sure how to word it. Then, finally, he pinpoints it. It's love, he can taste the amount of love you had put into the dish, and that's when it hits him — your cooking tastes like home.
Akaashi's not quite sure why his cheeks felt wet, and he doesn't remember when he started crying or why, for that matter.
"Was my cooking so bad that it moved you to tears?" You tease, trying to lighten the mood. No matter how lame your jokes were, they still did enough to steal a smile from your lover. But this time was different. As soon as you realize the seriousness of the situation, the smile on your face instantly drops as you watch more tears stream down Akaashi's face.
"Keiji," Taking his face between your palms, you stroke his cheeks with your thumbs. "Keiji, what's wrong,"
"It's been a long day," The crack in his voice doesn't go unnoticed, the pain in his tone tugging at your heartstrings. You swallow the lump in your throat.
"Keiji, you've been overworking yourself again, haven't you,"
Akaashi's always been a hard worker; even in high school, he'd stay up for hours on end to study for exams; neglecting his well-being and focusing more on his studies than his happiness.
You've chalked it down to the fact that he's over-exerting himself, but in reality, you could've never guessed that he felt like his life was incomplete.
You being the only thing that's ever been consistent, Akaashi feels helpless — like everyone's moving forward, and he's stuck frozen in time.
Even he fears the day you realize he's not what you want, moving on in your life and leaving him behind to wither in the dust.
Akaashi doesn't say anything as he wipes his tears, placing down his silverware. "Ah, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just tired."
"Are you sure, Keiji, you know you can talk to me about anything,"
"I need to rest. I'm sorry,"
There's a pregnant pause before you hum, and you suppose it's better not to pry — your boyfriend will open up when he's ready.
"It's alright. We can cut the cake tomorrow."
You take both plates, scraping the remaining food off them and into the trash before putting everything away, when you're finished, you take Akaashi's hand and lead him to his room.
+
Akaashi rests his head against your lap while you run your nimble fingers through his hair. He hums, feeling the tips of your digits soothingly massage his scalp with enough gentleness that has him relaxing underneath your touch.
You look up at the window, by now the skies are beginning to darken, the clouds engulfing even the stars — staring at the clock, you're surprised by the time.
"Keiji, it's getting late. I think it's time for me to be heading home,"
But before you can get up, you're stopped.
"Stay,"
Akaashi reaches for your wrist, holding onto it like a vice before he pulls you into his embrace. "Please," There's a hint of desperation in his voice as he wraps his arm around you, forcing you flush against him as he buries his face into your neck.
"Fine, I'll stay for as long as you need me," you say, Akaashi's grip on your wrist loosens enough for you to free yourself. Taking this opportunity, you wrap your arms around him — tracing circles into his trapezius.
He hums in contentment, “looks like you'll be staying forever."
"Keiji—" You giggle, your boyfriend digging his face into the crook of your neck as he peppers you in an onslaught of kisses — making sure to leave no inch uncovered. "It's getting late. You should get some rest. We don't have to do this tonight,"
"But I want to," His voice is muffled against your skin, and he shifts his body so that he's pressing against you. The heavy weight of his body forces you into the mattress causing the bed to creak from the combined heaviness.
"Besides, I think it's my turn to take care of you,"
That's all Akaashi said before he pulled away, the bed shifted even more as he sat on his knees. Large hands grab your waist, forcing your body closer to his — he lifts you up.
Half your body rests on the mattress, while the other is in the air. Your dress was bunching up around your waist as Akaashi brought your covered cunt to his lips, your legs flailing on either side of his shoulders.
"Keiji," you whimper, feeling his lips press against your cunt. He parts his mouth around your mound. His tongue runs across your panties, and he can taste your slick through the thin material.
He has a firm grasp on your hips, keeping you in places as he moves your underwear to the side with his nose — this time, he traces your folds with his tongue, collecting all you slick on his appendage before delving inside your hole.
Akaashi had always been skilled with his tongue. So it wasn't long before he had you seeing stars — your thighs quiver around him, and desperately you grip at the covers, bunching them up underneath your fingers.
Your mouth parts open as you moan, your orgasm racking through your body.
Your jaw goes slack, your eyes firmly closed as you bask in your post-orgasmic bliss. You don't even register when your butt falls gently against the bed, nor the prodding sensation against your thigh until Keiji places a hand upon your cheek — forcing you to look at him.
"Keiji," You breathe.
He gently kisses your lips, "Relax for me, love."
You nod, your brain still hazy from your first orgasm. You can hear your lover fumble with his clothes as he pulls down his pants, taking his boxers with them.
As soon as he frees his cock, he places his hands on your hips, tracing the thin band of your underwear before dipping his fingers inside and pulling them down until they're hanging off your ankle.
You cringe, feeling Akaashi's fat cock rub against your folds before he pushes the mushroom tip inside with little to no resistance. You whimper, feeling his girth split your walls in two.
As soon as Akaashi bottoms out, he waits for you to adjust before giving a shallow thrust.
"Are you ready,"
"Y—yeah," you weakly respond.
Akaashi's thrusts are slow but deep, his cock reaching further inside you with each rut of his hips.
Akaashi's a passionate lover, making sure you feel all of him — not that you're complaining, either. He was well endowed, and his sheer girth dragging along your walls filled you with such an immeasurable sense of fullness that not even your toys made you feel.
It felt like you were made for him, the way your hole greedily swallowed more and more of his cock — holding it snuggly within your warm walls.
Akaashi groans, a soft fuck escaping him as you involuntarily clench around him, "you feel so good," he praises.
Your moans increase in volume as the tip of his cock grazes over that particular spot almost teasingly. You desperately grind your hips against his in hopes of him hitting them.
And it's like Akaashi can read your mind. He shifts his hips just enough to pound against that spot, the tip of his cock hitting the sponginess with exact precision.
You're close, Akaashi can tell — he snakes a hand between your legs, allowing his thumb to rest against your clit. The poor neglected bundle of nerves resting between your puffy folds, swollen.
He rubs circles into your clit, eliciting more noises from you — the sensation only adding to your pleasure.
There's a coil in your tummy that only grows tighter and tighter with each thrust from Akaashi — it's almost unbearable.
"'S close," you slur, your head lolling back and forth.
Cute, akaashi thinks, there’s a glimmer of adoration in those gun metal eyes of his as he watches your face contort in pleasure — the pleasure that he’s giving you.
All it takes is a few more thrusts until the coil finally releases, specks of white clouding your vision as Akaashi drags another orgasm from you.
His ruts become sloppier, and you can feel his cock throb and pulsate inside you before a foreign warmth spills along your walls, painting them white.
Akaashi hips begin to slow down, but he's still slamming into you, determined to let you milk him for every last drop before he pulls out.
Akaashi rolls off of you, laying on your side. There's a curtain of silence that covers you both, although it's not uncomfortable.
Akaashi's the first one to break it, "I was serious when I said I want you here forever,"
It's not until you fall asleep and he can hear the faint sounds of you snoring that he realizes what he's been yearning for.
And in the morning, he's decided — he'll muster up the courage to finally present you with the box he had bought ages ago that he's been saving for just the occasion.
cw: size kink, breeding, fem reader, cervix fucking, smut mdni!
a/n: unedited, not beta’d and straight from my Google docs — having more Shinsuke thoughts :’)
“Shin, shiiiin, shin,” You whine, your body writhing in pleasure as he pulls yet another orgasm from you. 3, 4, 5 — you’re not sure how many times he’s made you cum, your mind was hazy and you were more focused on the way his thick cock makes you feel nice and full.
Kita thinks it’s cute — you’re cute.
The way you claw and grab at his sturdy arms that trap you in, between him and the mattress every time he thrusts his hips into yours — his cock reaching even further inside you while his fat, mushroom tip pounds against your cervix.
“Yes, darlin’?” Kita’s voice is laced with honey, although raspy it was still icky sweet while he places kisses upon your neck. Your cunt clenched around him — causing him to let out a low grunt as he relishes in how responsive your body is to him.
“Use yer words,” His hand coming up to your face to push back your hair that was matted against your skin before he places more kisses on the sides of your cheek. “Come on, baby tell me how good I’m makin’ ya feel.”
You’re trying so hard to form a single sentence, although it’s damn near impossible — the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls with each thrust has your mind breaking.
“‘So good, so good” You nearly scream out and your lover lets a low chuckle escape his lips. “Yea?”
“Need you,” Your breathing becomes labored, looking at him with lust blown eyes, “need you to breed me, wanna carry your babies,”
Kita’s hips still, brown eyes darkening as he looks over your disheveled form — running his tongue across his lower lip, he asks. “Ya sure, that’s what ya want? Wanna be pumped nice and full with my cum?”
You nod your head rapidly, almost desperately, you flinch when you feel him trace his hand down your stomach until it stops right above your womb. “Want me to breed this slutty pussy?” He asks, picking up his pace.
“Yes, yes, fuck, f—uck,”
Kita’s hips slam harshly against yours, the bed creaking in the process as the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin and your moans echo throughout the room.
He angles his hips — hands roughly grabbing at yours while he angles himself for better precision, drilling into you mercilessly as he gives you what you wanted.
Your walls spasming, and clenching around him as you desperately claw at the bed. It’s getting harder for Kita to hold on — you feel so warm and snug around him, and the thought of you so round, so full does nothing but ignite the feral desire in him to stuff you full of his cum, to mark you, to finally claim you.
The thought alone has his cock throbbing, and pulsating inside of you while he continues drilling into you. “F—fuck, sweetheart, yer makin’ it harder for me,”
With one final thrust, he finally cums, emptying himself inside of you — thick ropes of semen painting your walls white.. but.. it’s not enough, he needs to fill you up until he’s sure he’s gotten you pregnant.
He doesn’t pull out, and you can feel his cock stir inside you — coming back to life as repositions your body for better access.
he looks at you, strands of black and silver clinging to his forehead, and hearts in his ears, his skin is flushed — a dust of pink spreading from his cheeks to his ears.
just a lil drabble because I love this man, your honor + not beta’d just copied and pasted from my docs.
✩⡱ content+warnings: fem!reader, established relationships, vaginal penetration, size kink, creampies, pet names are used!
Your boyfriend watches in amusement — watching you huff and grunt as you struggle to sink down on his cock, both your hands placed on his broad chest to steady yourself as you try again.
“What’s wrong, bunny?” Matsukawa asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, his features doing nothing to mask that — yes — he does find your current dilemma amusing.
“Need a hand?” You roll your eyes as he places his heavy hands on your hips before you swat them away — the teasing lilt never leaving his tone.
“No,” You lift yourself up so that you're hovering mere inches away from Matsukawa’s thick, monster cock — the fat mushroom head bumping against your clit has you hesitating.
For a while, none of you say anything instead you retract one of your hands, stroking his cock for good measure. Matsukawa groans at the sensation, pre cum beading on the tip as you continue pumping him and slathering his shaft in his essence for extra help.
It’s not long before you’re aligning the tip of his cock with your awaiting heat — slowly but surely, his girth disappears between your folds. The stretch burns, although not unbearable, your boyfriend was huge. Way more endowed than most of the men you’ve ever been with, even rivaling half of your toy collection.
A string of curses spew from you both. “‘S fuckin’ big,” you hiss, your head laying against Matsukawa’s chest as he finally bottoms out.
“So fuckin’ tight,” He mocks back with a hiss, although with no malicious intent — you felt amazing around him, like you were made for him and he’s damn sure he’s gonna mold your pussy in the shape of his cock, ruining you for every man after him, has his balls tightening at the idea.
“Give me sec,” you breathe out, giving yourself time to adjust to the sheer size, and hefty weight of Matsukawa’s cock.
“Take all the time you need,” He hums, “not goin’ anywhere, not when your pussy’s clenching onto me like this,”
You can feel your boyfriend’s chest rise with laughter, as soon as your body gets accustomed to his you raise your hips, allowing them to fall back down upon his cock — his laughter catching in his throat as you clench around him.
Your pace starts off slow, teasingly slow, just to spite your boyfriend and he rolls his hips lazily in encouragement.
You relish in the way Matsukawa’s cock feels as you spear yourself upon it — his cock stretching the warm pouch of your cunt with each movement, as you force more of him inside you, making you feel full.
“Is—sei,” You drawl, Matsukawa can barely take it, he needs more — more than what you’re offering.
Taking matters into his own hands, he grabs you by your hips — palms planted firmly against you. You squeal in surprise as he lifts you up before slamming you back down on his length, his cock delving deeper inside of you as the tip hits against your cervix.
His pace is relentless, unforgiving, almost certain that he’s punishing you for teasing him earlier. “Fuck, f—fuck” you cry, your hands clawing at his back while your nails rake across his skin, leaving scratches across the surface.
He merely groans in response, unfazed by your actions.
It feels like your losing your mind as more and more of Matsukawa splits you open, he even shifts his hips to ram into your more sensitive spots with a calculated precision — determined to make you go dumb on his cock.
It’s not like he had to do much anyways.
Matsukawa’s not much of a talker when it comes to sex, but something about the way your hole keeps sucking his cock back in has him reconsidering. “You feel so fuckin’ good, shit”
Tears are beginning to form in the corners of your eyes, your vision going hazy as the last remnants of your sanity fades away. “Like you were made for me, bunny,”
Your lips fall open, as more moans roll off your tongue. You’re close — the coil in your tummy growing tighter.
Matsukawa knows it, he can tell by the way your walls flutter around him — clenching, and squeezing his cock as you finally cum.
You fall slack in his embrace, although it does nothing to hinder him — he continues bouncing you up and down on his cock as if you were weightless, weighing less than a doll. “Almost there,” he grunts, and it’s not like you could really comprehend what he was saying anyways.
And with a few more rolls of his hips, his cock twitches and pulses inside you, signaling his end as he spurts thick ropes of semen along your walls until you’re completely overfilled, leaving some to seep from between your folds —- wetting both yours and his thighs.
Matsukawa pulls you close, pressing his lips against the curve of your face. “Atta girl,” it comes out breathlessly, “let’s go get you cleaned up,”
+ cw: oral fixation, dry humping, vaginal penetration, fem!reader, use of pet names.
+ not really beta read, just copied this from my Google docs.
Mattsun finds it cute, no, he finds you cute.
The way your doe-like eyes fixate on his hands, trailing themselves all the way to the tips of his thick, long fingers as you sit on his lap — your pretty plaid skirt bunched around your waist. You don’t even try to hide the fact that you’ve been staring for so long.
“What is it, doll,” He asks, voice as sweet as honey as he takes a hold on your chin — cradling it between those fingers you’ve grown to adore.
You don’t answer, instead you pout as Matsukawa rubs his thumb over your pretty lips. “Gotta use your words, baby,”
“I want you,”
A breathless chuckle leaves his lips, although he wasn’t laughing at you. He found it amusing just how fascinated you were with his fingers.
“Open up for me then, pretty girl,” You do as you're told, parting your lips slightly, just enough for him to dip his fingers in. You waste no time in coating them with your saliva — swirling your tongue around his digits as you continue to suck.
Fuck, Mattsun groans. His cock stirring in his sweats as you diligently suck on his fingers as if it were his cock. He damn near loses his mind when you wrap your smaller hands around his arm — his muscles involuntarily flexing underneath your touch as you force more of him into your mouth.
“Bet you wish it was my cock, huh,” he teases, his eyes darkening as stares at your form. You try to answer but all that came out was muffled moans and choked sobs.
He presses down on your tongue with enough force that has you gagging, drool seeping from the corners of your mouth.
He laughs, his lips tugging into a wicked grin. The sadist in him takes great pleasure in watching you choke and sob. Oh god how he wishes it was his cock you were choking on.
He’d almost feel bad, almost. If it weren’t for the way you were grinding your hips against his — rubbing that pretty pussy along his hardening erection.. and he swears he can feel your wetness seep through the fabric of his pants.
He swears, muttering a string of curses before finally he pulls his fingers away from your mouth.
Big, watery eyes staring back at him in confusion. “Sorry, doll.” He groans, fumbling with the band of his sweats. “I just really need to be inside you right now,”
The lopsided grin he sends you has you chewing on your bottom lip in anticipation as he kisses a trail upon your neck leading all the way to your ear. “You’ll let me, right?”
His voice is low, you can feel his warm breath fanning against the shell of your ear. “You’ll let me make us both feel good, right baby?”
You nod frantically, and he hisses as soon as he frees his cock — rubbing it against your panty clad cunt.
“Of course you will, you’re such a good girl for me,” His praises had your heart fluttering, and your cheeks felt like they were on fire. “Raise your hips baby,”
You lift your hips, pushing your panties to the side you align the tip of his cock with your cunt.
The fat, mushroom tip parting your walls upon intrusion as he forced more and more of his giant cock inside of you.
F—fuck, Matsukawa mumbles.
“Feels like I’ve won a lotto, ya know that?” He groans, finally sheathing himself inside you. You’re so tight, so warm, the feeling of your cunt feels like heaven around him — he’d live there if he could. “Your pussy feels like it was made for me.”
His large hands palm at your ass, playing with your plush globes as he uses them to lift you up and slam you back down on his cock — his balls slapping against you with a pap, pap, pap.
Matsukawa’s cock felt heavy as it dragged through your walls with each thrust. You writhe and whine, your arms wrapping around his next as he hits that special spot deep inside you.
And from your reactions, he knows he’s doing something right, he bucks into you with renewed fervor — the tip of his cock bullying your sensitive spot.
“Mattsun, Mattsun,” You cry, tears threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes as he continues fucking into you. The pathetic look upon your face has his balls tightening.
“You have no idea what you do to me, doll,”
His pace is relentless, spearing you with his cock — your head feels fuzzy from the sensation of being split in two.
“Is—sei, ‘s close, ‘s close,”
“Yeah, baby?” Matsukawa drawls, gritting his teeth as your walls spasm and constrict around him — your orgasm hitting hard leaving you a limp mess in his arms.
He holds your body close as he lazily bucks into your sloppy hole searching for his own end — the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the lewd squelching noises could be heard throughout the room.
“Your pussy’s so greedy, baby, clenching onto my cock like it’s trying to milk me for all I got,”
And with one final thrust, he cums — his cock twitching and pulsating inside you as he empties his balls, thick ribbons of white coating your walls, filling you to the brim it causes some to ooze out of your cum, drenching both yours and Matsukawa’s thighs.
You look at him, through hooded, glassy eyes. Admiring the way his hair sticks to his sweat covered forehead, he looks ethereal — like some sort of sex god, you think.
just a lil drabble because I love this man, your honor + not beta’d just copied and pasted from my docs.
✩⡱ content+warnings: fem!reader, established relationships, vaginal penetration, size kink, creampies, pet names are used!
Your boyfriend watches in amusement — watching you huff and grunt as you struggle to sink down on his cock, both your hands placed on his broad chest to steady yourself as you try again.
“What’s wrong, bunny?” Matsukawa asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, his features doing nothing to mask that — yes — he does find your current dilemma amusing.
“Need a hand?” You roll your eyes as he places his heavy hands on your hips before you swat them away — the teasing lilt never leaving his tone.
“No,” You lift yourself up so that you're hovering mere inches away from Matsukawa’s thick, monster cock — the fat mushroom head bumping against your clit has you hesitating.
For a while, none of you say anything instead you retract one of your hands, stroking his cock for good measure. Matsukawa groans at the sensation, pre cum beading on the tip as you continue pumping him and slathering his shaft in his essence for extra help.
It’s not long before you’re aligning the tip of his cock with your awaiting heat — slowly but surely, his girth disappears between your folds. The stretch burns, although not unbearable, your boyfriend was huge. Way more endowed than most of the men you’ve ever been with, even rivaling half of your toy collection.
A string of curses spew from you both. “‘S fuckin’ big,” you hiss, your head laying against Matsukawa’s chest as he finally bottoms out.
“So fuckin’ tight,” He mocks back with a hiss, although with no malicious intent — you felt amazing around him, like you were made for him and he’s damn sure he’s gonna mold your pussy in the shape of his cock, ruining you for every man after him, has his balls tightening at the idea.
“Give me sec,” you breathe out, giving yourself time to adjust to the sheer size, and hefty weight of Matsukawa’s cock.
“Take all the time you need,” He hums, “not goin’ anywhere, not when your pussy’s clenching onto me like this,”
You can feel your boyfriend’s chest rise with laughter, as soon as your body gets accustomed to his you raise your hips, allowing them to fall back down upon his cock — his laughter catching in his throat as you clench around him.
Your pace starts off slow, teasingly slow, just to spite your boyfriend and he rolls his hips lazily in encouragement.
You relish in the way Matsukawa’s cock feels as you spear yourself upon it — his cock stretching the warm pouch of your cunt with each movement, as you force more of him inside you, making you feel full.
“Is—sei,” You drawl, Matsukawa can barely take it, he needs more — more than what you’re offering.
Taking matters into his own hands, he grabs you by your hips — palms planted firmly against you. You squeal in surprise as he lifts you up before slamming you back down on his length, his cock delving deeper inside of you as the tip hits against your cervix.
His pace is relentless, unforgiving, almost certain that he’s punishing you for teasing him earlier. “Fuck, f—fuck” you cry, your hands clawing at his back while your nails rake across his skin, leaving scratches across the surface.
He merely groans in response, unfazed by your actions.
It feels like your losing your mind as more and more of Matsukawa splits you open, he even shifts his hips to ram into your more sensitive spots with a calculated precision — determined to make you go dumb on his cock.
It’s not like he had to do much anyways.
Matsukawa’s not much of a talker when it comes to sex, but something about the way your hole keeps sucking his cock back in has him reconsidering. “You feel so fuckin’ good, shit”
Tears are beginning to form in the corners of your eyes, your vision going hazy as the last remnants of your sanity fades away. “Like you were made for me, bunny,”
Your lips fall open, as more moans roll off your tongue. You’re close — the coil in your tummy growing tighter.
Matsukawa knows it, he can tell by the way your walls flutter around him — clenching, and squeezing his cock as you finally cum.
You fall slack in his embrace, although it does nothing to hinder him — he continues bouncing you up and down on his cock as if you were weightless, weighing less than a doll. “Almost there,” he grunts, and it’s not like you could really comprehend what he was saying anyways.
And with a few more rolls of his hips, his cock twitches and pulses inside you, signaling his end as he spurts thick ropes of semen along your walls until you’re completely overfilled, leaving some to seep from between your folds —- wetting both yours and his thighs.
Matsukawa pulls you close, pressing his lips against the curve of your face. “Atta girl,” it comes out breathlessly, “let’s go get you cleaned up,”
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