MADE FOR ME — BF!kuru x GF!reader
information: Early mornings with your boyfriend Keegan can get a little rough. cw: p in v, rough sex, sweet talking, creampie masterlist taglist
The morning light filtered softly through the curtains as you stirred in bed, your boyfriend Keegan’s hand lazily held your waist. His breath was warm against your neck, his smooth skin pressed close behind you.
You shifted slightly, and that small movement woke him. His eyes found yours and without a word he leaned in to kiss your lips, then behind your ear, across your jaw, and down your neck.
You pressed your ass back against his already hardened cock and a low groan rumbled from his chest as his hand slid down, fingers slipping between your thighs to find you already wet.
"Morning, baby," he murmured, voice rough with sleep. His fingers stroked your clit in slow circles before he pushed two inside you, working you open with a gentleness that didn’t last long.
Keegan slowly and gently rolled you onto your stomach, easing your hips up so your ass was pressed right above his dick. He didn’t bother with teasing — he lined his cock up against your dripping folds and sunk in deep with one smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt.
You gasped into the pillow as he started fucking you hard, the bed creaking under the force of his hips slamming against your ass. Each thrust was rough, controlled, his grip on your waist tight enough to leave small bruises in the shape of finger prints.
“God, you feel so good," he moaned, leaning over you to nip at your shoulder while his cock pounded into your pussy. One hand reached around to rub your clit in perfect tandem with his thrusts, the contrast of his sweet kisses on your neck and the brutal pace of his fucking making your head spin.
He pulled you up onto your knees, one of his arms wrapping around your stomach, your back flush against his chest as he kept driving into you with short, powerful thrusts. “Keegan!” You gasped out his name, your eyes rolling back.
His arm pulled away from your waist and his hand found yours, fingers lacing together as he whispered softly into your ear between the filthy sounds of skin slapping skin.
“I love you, pretty girl… so much. You feel so fucking amazing, like this pretty little pussy was made for me.” His cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside you until your thighs shook.
His hand slipped away from yours to catch your chin, tilting your face toward him with a firm but careful grip. The moment your eyes met his, your breath fractured into short, ragged breaths that barely filled your lungs.
Heat coiled low in your belly, and your body answered before your mind could catch up — hips rolling back to meet every thrust, thighs trembling, pussy fluttering around the thick length driving into you again and again.
His eyes stayed locked on yours as whines, gasps, and desperate little moans spilled out without permission. Your lips parted, eyes glassy and wide — you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to, the intensity in his gaze pinned you in place as surely as his body did.
“You gonna cum?” The question came out breathy against your ear.
Your answer was nothing but a strangled cry. Your whole body seized at once — pussy clamping down hard around him in rhythmic, pulsing squeezes that dragged a curse from his chest.
Your climax hit sudden and brutal, a white-hot rush that made your vision blur and your spine arch. Wetness flooded around his cock as you came, soaking him.
His hips stuttered, then slammed forward one final time, his forehead fell against your shoulder as he buried himself to the hilt and spilled inside, filling you until cum leaked out around his cock.
For a long moment neither of you moved. He stayed buried deep, chest pressed to your back, his arm found your waist again to keep you close.
He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. Then his lips found your spine — soft, lingering kisses pressed one after another along the curve of your back.
“Love you,” he murmured, voice hoarse but tender, the earlier roughness melted away. Carefully, he eased out of you, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as a slow trickle of your releases followed, glistening on your inner thighs.
He turned you in his arms and laid down against the pillows, pulling you against his chest so your head could rest over his heartbeat. One hand stroked your hair while the other traced lazy circles on your hip, grounding you both.
You stayed like that, tangled together, the room quiet except for the sound of your breathing gradually syncing. His fingers kept moving — gentle, soothing — until the last tremors left your body and the only thing left was the steady warmth of being held.
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