Archive of Our Own

It had been another long, exhausting day for Trunks and as he threw off his shoes into the corner of his room and slammed his briefcase to the floor with a thud, he let out a deep, scratchy sigh that made the back of his throat burn. 

From early morning conference calls, to scheduled sales meetings with investors, all he felt he ever did was talk, talk, talk. Constant sales pitches, figure projection, profit and loss calculations, he was tired of hearing the sound of his own, monotone voice, he was sick of hearing himself think. All he wanted to do was rest, relax, shut off his brain and not speak to anybody for weeks. 

Yet that was not a possibility, not with Capsule Corporation on the verge of making a very exciting business deal with Universe Six’s Transport Technological. He had figures to evaluate, employees to brief, paperwork to sign and at least four hundred interstellar video calls to make. That’s not even mentioning the in-person meetings that they’d no doubt expect him to spearhead - he’d seen enough of space to last him a lifetime yet he would absolutely need to go. Who else could sign that paperwork and shake those hands like the president of Capsule Corporation?

He didn’t even bother to remove his suit as he got into his room, too tired to move his arms and legs any more than absolutely necessary. He had always hated the piss-yellow colour of the employee uniforms but Grandpa had decided on the shade over fifty years ago and Trunks didn’t have the heart to change something that felt like Grandpa’s legacy. It was comical, almost; Dr Brief had an incredible roster of technological, world-changing advancements to leave behind but the part that Trunks seemed most fixated on was his garish, hideous suit.

He flopped onto his bed back first, splaying his arms out like a sad, deflated little snow angel, staring up at the stark white ceiling of his bedroom - if he squinted, he could still see the small stains from the time he and Goten spent the afternoon throwing slime up there; something else he could change, if he wanted to, but he didn’t have the heart. Some things are worth remembering. He puffed out a short breath of air, gently disturbing his mussed up bangs. 

I need a break. I need a vacation. I wish I could just disappear into the woods for a few weeks.

His phone buzzed politely from his pocket, a soft little tinkering that wasn’t too jarring or too loud, but it still sent a jolt of anger and frustration through his body. He was at his absolute limit of how much contact he was prepared to have with people, particularly after such a long, mentally draining day, and he reached his hand into his pocket to pull out his cell, just daring it to be one of his PAs with another itinerary for the week ahead.

But it wasn’t a PA. 

Or an employee at all. 

It was Nico.

Nico, with her soft eyes and strong heart. She could be his undoing or his saviour, she could either solve his problems or give him eight more, she was always full pelt or nothing at all. 

He loved her for it. 

But Gods, was she draining.

She’d sent him a little text, short and sweet, Are you still not back from work? 

He stared at it for a good half a minute, stomach fluttering, eyes dry and weary behind his glasses. Slowly, and with a guilty heart, he locked his mobile and threw it onto his pillow. It was late. Too late. He had stayed back four hours after his scheduled working hours to finish off the report analysis he’d promised to email to his head engineer, though he knew he shouldn’t, he felt he had to. If not me, then who else? His mouth was dry, his eyes were stinging, he was tired, he was drained, and as much as he loved his girlfriend, he just wasn’t entirely sure that he had the energy to entertain her for the evening.

He hauled himself up from his reclined position, rubbing his temples wearily. His back and shoulders ached so badly that it felt alien to him; the idea that just a few years ago he was taking gut punches from supervillains and still getting up for a training session the next day, and now he couldn’t sit at his desk for a day shift without his body going into lockdown. His father would tell him that he was growing weak and that he ought to be ashamed. Yet, where exactly in his packed schedule was he supposed to fit training? He barely had time to eat these days. His stomach let out a low, aching rumble to punctuate the feeling.

Standing up and stretching his body, feeling the satisfying pop of his spine releasing the built up tension with a rumbling groan, he headed out of his room and down towards his kitchen. It was in his mind to whip up something good to eat but he could not find the energy, though he knew he’d feel better with something wholesome and filling in his stomach, he was confident that he’d fall asleep over the stove. 

He opened the cupboards and browsed the instant meals he’d stocked up on. Quick, convenient, easy. Absolutely zero nutritional value, but at least would curb the ache in his stomach. He drummed his fingers on the marble counter top as he waited for the kettle to boil, humming to himself irritably. He hated himself when he was like this. 

He hated himself almost all of the time. 

He blinked, hard, trying to force away the feeling. 

The kettle hissed at him and he filled his instant ramen pot with the boiled water, appreciating the way the warm, curried smell wafted up into his nostrils. It had been so long since he’d last eaten, he hadn’t even managed breakfast that morning, that he felt the urge to start wolfing it down right over the countertop like a little child.

That’s when he felt it, the warmth and instant relief of an energy signal that was as familiar to him as his own. The stress in his shoulders melted, the subconscious recesses of his mind softening like caramel as he allowed it to overtake his nervous system and calm him from the inside out.

But why is she here…?

She had entered the kitchen before he had found the courage to turn around, hunched over his noodles like some sort of condiment criminal caught red handed, and her energy amped up until it enveloped him completely, pushing the air from his chest, erupting fireworks in his bloodstream, making the thundering in his ears soften to a gentle, pleasant hum. 

“Trunks?” Her voice was soft, lilted with concern, and Trunks heard her footsteps echoing as she came closer to him.

“Why did you come?” He rasped out, gravelly and tired. It had come out more bluntly than he meant to. 

“I was worried when you didn’t text back.” She was right behind him, and a gentle hand found itself on the thick muscle of his shoulder blade. “Has something happened?”

Guilt settled low and uncomfortably in his stomach, stabbing hot and bubbling until he could taste the sourness in his windpipe. “No.” He said quietly. His ramen suddenly smelt foul and unappetising and he heaved down a gulp of air as his palms began to feel hot and sweaty.

“Then what’s wrong?” She had always been a worrier. She had always been pushy. 

But she had also always cared.

Trunks felt nauseated, and slowly turned to face her, shame painting his face. 

She was wearing comfy, oversized clothes, a big, pink sweater with a frog on the front and checkered pants that could be pyjamas - he wasn’t sure. Her eyes were wide and nervous behind her glasses, her hair pulled up in that messy, disorganised bun that was as haphazard as she was. There was a soft fear dancing across the swell of her lips and the blueness of her eyes and she studied Trunks slowly.

He swallowed thickly, resting his back against the countertop. “Nothing’s wrong.” He said gruffly, finally, refusing to make eye contact because he knew that she would be able to tell that he was lying. 

“Do you want me to go?” She asked, vulnerable and honest.

If he was honest with himself, Trunks knew that he didn’t. Nico had a healing presence, she was light and airy and didn’t know when to shut up; he knew that she could ease his worries in half an hour or less if he would let her in, but the anxiety welling in his chest told him that it wasn’t fair to ask that of her. He was supposed to be a Saiyan-warrior, the CEO of Earth’s most influential business, there was no reason why he should be laying his worries and stresses down onto the small, dejectedly sloping shoulders of some washed-up old celebrity’s daughter.

She would hate it if she knew I was thinking that.

Trunks’ abdomen churned, unable to stomach his noodles anymore, unable to look his own girlfriend in the eye. He closed his own, focusing only on the low buzzing of the fridge and the way Nico’s energy felt like being in a lukewarm bath that was slowly filling back up with hotter water. 

When she spoke again, her voice sounded small and unsure. “Trunks?” Her delicate, dainty hand reached forward and rested on Trunks’ chest, his muscle flexing involuntarily at the contact. 

“Yeah?” He grumbled, still not opening his eyes. Looking at her now would be his downfall. He’d give in, he’d relent, he’d take advantage of her goodness and he’d slam all of his stress onto her tiny frame and be grateful to have a conduit. He couldn’t do that to her. 

“I’ll leave, if you want me to.”

“Do you want to leave?”

She scoffed, humourlessly and dryly. “You know that I don’t ever want to leave you.” Her fingers traced comforting patterns into his skin through the soft material of his shirt. “I’ve been stuck to you like a skin rash since we were kids. I wasn’t planning on becoming curable.”

Trunks chuckled at that, low and short, but he felt the tension leave his shoulders a little. 

“Is it work?” Nico asked, she’d raised her second hand and placed that on his chest too, carefully testing the tension in his pecs, watching him intently to see if he would tense up or relax. It felt intimate, just those two in the darkness of the kitchen lit only by the soft, orangey glow coming from the hallway, and she gently let her thumbs rub backwards and forwards across Trunks’ shirt, pressing soft admissions into the polyester. 

Trunks nodded, small and soft, and a short sigh escaped through his nose as he pursed his bitten lips. Nico watched him as he stood, arms bracing against the counter behind him, eyes shut tightly against the world, body seized up as if the world was shutting back against him. He looked worn out; and she studied the dark circles under his eyes, along with the sallowness of his usually bright skin.

She moved her body closer to his, a tiny shuffle, barely noticeable if it weren’t for the way her sneakers squeaked against the sharp floor tiles. For most of the time she’d known Trunks, she had towered over him - looming several inches above him thanks to her father’s tall genes, yet now, as adults, Trunks stood an inch or so above her. Slumped against the kitchen counter like he was, however, he seemed small and vulnerable. 

She couldn’t find the words to ask him what was bothering him, because she couldn’t ever understand. He could talk for hours about business and numbers and spreadsheets, but it would go in one ear and out of the other. They both came from luxury, and wealth, yet Nico’s father had given her everything she wanted without asking her for anything in return and Trunks’ family had expected him to grind himself into the dirt to be part of the conglomerate. She couldn’t relate to his struggles, and she never, ever wanted to ask him to explain it. She knew that he hated to be vulnerable, he hated expressing his emotions.

“Trunks?” 

His eyes fluttered open, soft blue swimming with insecurity. “Yeah?”

“Would you…” She hesitated, then caught his gaze. “Would you take me on vacation?”

“Vacation?” Trunks repeated, slowly and intentionally. 

“Mhm.” Her voice was a soft whisper in the air, barely there, almost as if she was scared she would break Trunks if she spoke too loudly. “I want to go somewhere with a beach. And ice cream. Remember your tenth birthday, when we all went to la Isla de Felva? It was so pretty… we saw dolphins in the sea, and my sis got really badly sunburnt, didn’t she? And my dad got chased in the wildlife park by that little chimp because it wanted his ice cream, remember? Your dad even laughed at that.” 

Trunks’ eyes fluttered with something serene and a gentle twist of a smile played around his lips. He was breathing more slowly, more intentionally, almost as if he was physically forcing himself to stay grounded. “It was fun. Buu ate an entire buffet out, I bet he bankrupted the business.”

“Yeah, we got kicked out!” Nico giggled, softly, lightly, tinkling, like Christmas jingle bells. It sang to Trunks’ soul and he softened, letting go of his grip on the counter and running his weary hands through his lilac hair. “Oh, Trunks… let’s go away somewhere, just us.”

He bit his tongue, and a gruff sound rumbled somewhere low in his throat. “It’s not as easy as that.”

“I know.” Nico whispered, a little sad, a little small. “I just… I don’t want to see you so stressed.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologise.” She said quickly. “You never have to apologise to me.”

Trunks opened his mouth, the words he wanted to say dying on his tongue.

“Never.” Nico repeated. 

He nodded, and slumped his shoulders. “I wish things were easier.” He admitted, quietly, almost as if he was scared to say it. “Things used to be so simple.”

“Life as a kid was a big adventure.” 

“Yeah.” Trunks sighed. “I… can’t promise anything.” He felt Nico’s fingers curl up against his chest and he carefully lifted one of his own hands and placed it on top of hers, encasing her tiny fingers with his own. “But I want to. I badly want to, Nico.”

She nodded softly in understanding. 

“This is why I didn’t respond to your text.” Trunks mumbled, beginning to idly rub his thumb across the back of Nico’s hand. “I’m not the same person I was when we first met.”

Nico whispered an airy laugh, and pressed her body more closely, emboldened by the way Trunks’ thumb graced her skin. “Lucky me, you were a complete asshole as a kid.”

A little fire lit up in Trunks’ eyes. “Yeah,” he chuckled, sighing, “but even so…”

“You don’t have to be anything, Trunks.” Nico said, and she carefully pushed her hand up his chest, the one that he wasn’t anchoring in place with his own, and let it trail up to rest on the side of his neck. He sighed at the contact, his eyes fluttering shut. “You only have to be mine.”

“I am.” He replied, and his fluttering eyelashes promised it. 

“You are.” She reassured, and she let her other hand trail up his body, too, leaving his hand hovering in stasis. She gripped both sides of his neck, tilting his jaw so that he was looking down into her earnest eyes. “You are.”

He nodded. “Are you mine?”

“I always have been.”

“You won’t leave?”

“Never.”

“Even if I’m quiet? Even if I push you away? Even if-”

“Trunks.” Nico cut in, stern, firm. 

He sighed and physically crumbled into her, slumping forward and pressing his nose into the crook of her neck. She smelled so divine, and so familiar, like the nights they stayed up late as kids and ate so much chocolate they were sick, and the days they spent training in her father’s gym - punching each other until they couldn’t stand the tension anymore. He inhaled, deeply, and felt her squirming against the way it tickled, but she didn’t pull away. She smelt sweet, buttery and sugary, like vanilla cake mix before it was baked, with a slightly spicy undertone like cinnamon or pink pepper. He felt himself melting like caramel into her arms as she wrapped them around him, safe and comforting. 

“Let’s go to bed.” She whispered, her voice like honey in his ear. He nodded imperceptively against her skin, not wanting to pull away from the safety of being swarmed by her scent. “Trunks.”

He managed to tear himself away, gazing into her eyes like it was the first time he’d ever seen her. “Okay.” He breathed. “Let’s go.”

She took his hand, confident and charming, wrapping her fingers around his and pulling him gently away from his abandoned noodles, guiding him back down the corridor to his bedroom. His feet ached, his body felt heavy, but he began to feel himself melting and softening as she controlled his pace. She took him into his room and shut the door behind them with a decisive click, locking them away from the rest of the world. He felt safe, like this, if it was Nico - he would always be safe. 

“Sit down.” She said, gesturing towards the bed. 

He slumped his frame down, shuffling back a little and looking up at her. He thought that she looked so pretty, like an angel, hovering above him ready to give him anything he asked for if he could find the words to ask for it. She blinked down at him, stars in the blue of her eyes, a soft smile flirting across her face as sweet and warm as the first day of summer. Without breaking eye contact with him, she reached under the hem of her sweater, slowly, and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her trousers. She slipped them down her legs, letting them pool on the floor. Trunks wanted to glance down, to see her legs, to see if he could spy what panties she was wearing, but she was gazing at him with that stare that he never dared to look away from. She had him locked in place, his heart thumping like a startled rabbit’s in his chest.

She stepped out of her trousers, discarding them across the room with a careful flick of one of her feet, and stepped towards Trunks slowly. “You’re so wound up,” she whispered, still blessing him with that delicate smile, but with the twinkle of something more intense in her eyes, “let’s work out some of this tension, okay?”

He nodded, feeling almost dumb as he relaxed so deeply he could barely think, let alone speak. 

“Do you want to?”

He nodded again.

“I need to hear you say it, Trunks.”

“I want to, Nico.” He whispered, his voice raspy. “Please.”

She took a sharp breath at that, eyes fluttering at how polite he’d been. She liked that. Slowly, she reached forward, forcing Trunks to crane his neck to maintain eye contact with her. She carefully wrapped her fingers around his red tie, loosening the material so that it came undone, and pulled it from around his neck. It almost permitted Trunks to breathe properly and he heaved in oxygen as if it was his first time tasting it, the sensation ice cold and refreshing against his lungs. “Is that good?”

“So good.” He rasped, blinking up at her slowly. “Should I… take this off?” He gestured to his yellow blazer. 

“Let me do it.” She breathed softly. “Let me take care of you.”

“Okay.” 

Her hands felt like magic as they slid over his shoulders, pressing into his weary muscles intentionally and purposefully, her skilled fingertips pressing devotion notes into the soreness of his skin. “Still good?”

He blinked up at her, lost in her eyes. “Yes.”

Satisfied, she carefully took the lapels of his jacket in her hands and pulled it from his body, and he worked with her, pulling his muscular arms from the sleeves, shrugging it away from himself as if he was shrugging off his stresses with it. Nico tossed it onto the floor somewhere near her pants and then moved her fingers to Trunks’ shirt buttons, carefully popping each one undone, exposing more of his thick, carved chest as she did. She could see that he was twitching and flexing against her touch, unable to prevent himself from getting excited by her wandering hands. 

She crouched down to undo the last few buttons, her eyes flickering down to them, and then back up to Trunks’ eyes, noticing that he never stopped gazing at her. “Relax.” She giggled quietly.

“Yeah, ‘m trying…” Trunks replied gruffly, his cheeks becoming heated with a very pretty raspberry coloured blush. His lilac eyelashes flickered like butterfly wings as he tried to remain coherent. 

Nico peeled his shirt away from his skin, her soft fingertips feeling like heaven across Trunks’ broad shoulders, and he couldn’t help but whine into the touch as she let her hands trace across his arms as she pulled the clothing away from his body. “You’re so handsome.” 

He flushed red, his eye contact finally breaking as he looked away awkwardly. 

“You are.” She reassured him. “I’m so lucky.”

He beamed a little at the praise, nose still tickled with his blush. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Stand up.” Trunks did as she’d asked, shakily pulling himself to his feet. Nico’s hands found the button on his slacks. “Is this okay?” She asked. When he nodded eagerly, she undid the button and then unzipped the trousers, taking her time, torturing him with lavish attention. 

He grunted, biting his bottom lip. 

“Impatient?” She teased.

He shook his head, his fingers twitching by his side. “I’m enjoying it.”

“You are?” She slipped her fingers to the waistband of his slacks and pushed them down off his body. 

“Yeah.” Trunks grunted eagerly. “Stress relief.”

“Oh?” Nico raised an eyebrow, then pressed a hand to his chest. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“That’s not what I meant…” Trunks insisted with a shy blush, and then he felt his thighs pressing against the bed as Nico continued to push him. He folded, letting himself flop and sit down on the bedsheets. 

Nico smiled knowingly, and then she knelt down on the floor at his feet. She looked up at him, pulling his pants off, and then his socks, leaving him only in his boxer briefs. “Lie down on your stomach.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Lie down on your stomach.” She repeated.

“But…” Trunks hesitated, his eyes raking over her body that was still mostly clothed. “I won’t get to see you.”

Nico giggled softly, tucking her hair behind her ears. “You don’t need to.”

“But I want to.” Trunks said, achingly. 

“Just let me do this, for you. Let me help you. Let me take care of you.”

He relented. “Okay.” He climbed up the bed, lying face down, sinking his head into the pillow, feeling Nico straddle his legs from behind. He felt her body shifting and then heard the sound of her sweater rustling and hitting the floor. He tried to lift his head up to look at her but she was too fast and she carefully placed a hand onto the back of his head and applied enough pressure to keep him there. 

“Let me do this.”

He sank back down, in agony, knowing she was wearing something scandalous or nothing at all, desperate to get a look at her. Yet when her fingers began to press skillfully into his muscles he forgot how to care about anything and melted into the feeling of only caring about how deeply she could work her love into his skin. She was attentive, and intentional, working his body up slowly and dutifully, humming softly as she worked the tension out of his aching muscles. 

He looked serene and peaceful, slumped over listlessly, and Nico couldn’t suppress her smiles as she watched his body physically deflating in front of her, as pliable and mushy as mashed potatoes. “Feeling good?”

“So good.” Trunks groaned, his voice muffled against the pillow, and he let out a particularly loud groan when Nico shifted up his body - sitting down on his ass - and began to push deeply into his taut neck muscles. “Fuck!”

She hummed pleasantly, enjoying helping him relax, but after ten or so minutes she felt his energy shifting. He began rocking himself, enough so that she was becoming jostled by his movements. It was rhythmic, short little stabs of his hips, barely noticeable if you were standing on the other side of the room, but sitting on top of him like she was it was impossible to ignore.

“Trunks…” Her voice sang to him, a honey-lilted love note, “I can’t massage you properly if you move around so much.”

“C-can’t…” he breathed, strained and raspy, “c-can’t help it…” His body was twitching, stuttering, faltering at every press of her fingers. She tried to drop her weight down onto him to clamp his rolling hips in place but his vitality and strength were too much, and all it sought to do was give him added pressure which made him moan out in ecstasy. 

She froze up because this had not been her plan. The idea was to massage him so well that he fell asleep, and she denied him permission to see her body so he wouldn’t get so worked up, but it seems to have done the opposite and he was lying beneath her, fucking the bed. Her pussy twitched, fluttering excitedly in her panties, and her hands paused on his back as she tried to decide how to move forward. 

“Nico…” 

“Mhm?”

“Can you massage my chest, too?”

Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re doing, Trunks Brief. “Sure.” She lifted herself up onto her knees so that Trunks could spin around and when he did she felt as if she was looking into heaven itself; his cheeks were painted like a strawberry field, little spots of red and pink embarrassment peppering his golden skin, his plush lips were parted as he huffed laboured, strained breaths and his eyes were narrowed as he screwed his handsome, sharp features up against whatever blissful agony his body was getting lost in. When she glanced down, she saw the unignorable strain of his erection through his briefs. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Relieving my stress.”

“So that is what we’re calling it.” She grinned naughtily, letting her hands trace ticklish patterns into the solid muscles of Trunks’ chest. 

“Call it whatever you want,” Trunks gasped, bucking into her touch, “just please don’t stop.”

He couldn’t believe what was hovering above him, blessing him with her divinity. His hands lay out by his head - as he was sure she’d chastise him for touching - but he longed to let his fingers become entwined in the plumpness of her soft thighs and the dip of her waist. She was wearing elegant, lace lingerie, flutters of material just barely concealing her milky, tattooed body, and her skin flushed in places shades of peach and apricot as he slathered her with worshipful gazes. 

“You’re staring.” She deadpanned, suddenly a little shyer with his cerulean eyes paying her so much attention. 

“How could I not?” Trunks grunted, his fingers twitching with the ache to paw at her. “You’re beautiful.”

“Oh shut up.” She snapped, pouting and flushing. “This isn’t about me, it’s about you. So shut up and enjoy it.”

“I’m enjoying it. I’m really enjoying it.” He punctuated the promises with a little buck of his hips, his eyes narrowed with lust.

Nico forced herself to ignore his flirting, knowing she would fall into a lust she couldn’t pull herself out of, and continued to massage Trunks’ body, his throat, his chest, his biceps, paying close attention to what made him groan the deepest, wilting a little with his eyes on her so intensely. As her legs tired of holding her up for so long she gently lowered herself into his lap, seating her pussy down on his erection. 

He groaned immediately, whining and whimpering. “Yeah,” he groaned, “please…” Rocking her hips slowly, she dragged herself in a dizzying circle around him, pressing her weight down against him, feeling his cock twitching and pulsing beneath her. “Please…” he repeated. 

“Please what?” She cooed, and she leaned forward, lifting herself off his crotch as she did so, to rub her nose against his. 

“Please… anything.” Trunks grunted, blinking up at her. 

“Do you want me?”

“I need you.”

She pressed her lips to his, a soft, barely there admission of her permission, and Trunks’ hands rocketed towards her body faster than he had ever moved them, moaning into her kiss as he began to feel and caress every part of her; the curve of her hips, the strength in her back, and around the front to fondle the petite swell of her breasts. 

Nico kissed him serenely as his hands wandered, one hand on his jaw, her lips peppering presses of adoration onto his. Her body began to feel hot, and her pussy ached for contact, the way Trunks’ hands felt as they explored each part of her, the way his restraint had melted away, the way she could feel his desire ebbing and flowing and building into something she would have no control over. He was on fire, burning with a passion she’d stoked, and she was longing to be his conduit.

His stress relief.

“I can never say no to you…” she whispered against his mouth. 

“Do you want to?” Trunks asked. 

“No.” She said shortly. “Take me, Trunks. I’m all yours.”

He snapped, something that had been tightly wound inside of his lower abdomen ruptured and he wrapped a strong arm around her body, pushing her up so that they were facing each other. She unfurled her legs and wrapped them around his waist, pressing her chest close to his, her hands holding onto his jaw. For a moment, in the gloomy, romantic darkness of his bedroom, they stayed frozen in place, a snapshot in stasis, a click in time where it was just him, and her, and all that mattered was their love for each other. Sitting, gazing into each others’ eyes, as devoted as they were blue, neither one willing to break the spell they were willingly letting themselves fall under.

Eventually, Trunks leaned in, pressing his lips to hers again. “Can I?” He whispered. 

“Please.” She mouthed, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling with her desperate, needy breaths. 

He laced a hand through her hair, dragging her closer to him, and connected their lips in a deep, desperate kiss. It was messy, and uncontrolled, both of them too far gone to care about airs and graces, both of them so achingly familiar with the other that decorum was long forgotten. Their tongues slid across one another, separating only to press their lips together again. 

“I’ll never get over your kisses.” She admitted, her breath warm against Trunks’ mouth. 

“No?” Trunks asked, and then without warning he tugged on her hair to tilt her head back and pressed his lips to her throat. “Never?”

“Never…” She whined, letting her body go limp and pliable in his confident hold. 

Trunks groaned against her neck, lathering it with worshipful kisses and licks, biting down on the sensitive spot right in the crook of her shoulder and feeling her tense and tremble in his arms. He sucked, begging to leave bruises and marks and pretty patterns of how obsessed he was with her in the paleness of her flesh, biting down into her skin with fervour and determination and adoration. She whimpered against his rough treatment, bucking in his hold, a hand wound tightly in his velvety soft lilac hair, clamping his head in place, refusing to give him the opportunity to stop. 

But he didn’t want to stop. He bit and sucked his way down her throat, and then - pulling her hair with one hand and pressing on her chest with the other - he encouraged her to lie down on her back on the bed. Her eyes fluttered with excitement, her round lips bitten pink by Trunks’ love. She splayed her arms out by her head and spread her legs, unashamed, allowing her lover to crawl between them. 

As he climbed and hovered above her, his bangs fluttered down and hung around his flushing cheeks, he looked beautiful, he looked hers. His eyes greedily raked across her face and across her body, frozen in place as he admired her. “What are you waiting for?” She whispered, her voice like sugar. “Make me feel good, Trunks.” 

He swallowed thickly, his eyeballs trembling in his head. Slowly, he hovered his hands over her petite breasts and then cupped them, exhaling deeply as the soft, plumpness of them shifted against his fingers. He massaged them slowly, tenting in his black briefs, his skin blushing bright red at his actions. 

“Take them out.” Nico breathed, and when Trunks flushed and blinked at her she reached up and carefully slipped the lace detailing of her bra down until her cute tits spilled over the top of it. 

“Fuck.” Trunks grunted, his fingers hovering above her pert nipples. “Can I?”

She nodded softly, reaching up to unpin her dark hair so that it could unravel and splay across the pillows like a sinful halo. Trunks carefully placed his warm hands back over her breasts again and groaned as he felt her nipples pressing against his palms. “Kiss them.” She whispered, her voice sounded floaty and far away and Trunks leaned in without question, pressing his lips onto the soft, supple flesh of her right breast. She sighed in quiet satisfaction, running her fingers through his silky, lavender hair. “More.”

He sighed, his eyes fluttering serenely at her direct instructions. He liked it. After a long, hard day of having to have the answer to every single fucking question he was asked by every single fucking person it was blissful for him to let go of that control and feel his free will ebb away, to be at the beck and call of someone who he knew would do it all for him. She could take care of him, she would take care of him, and he had the luxury of letting himself become a brainless void of pleasure in her capable hands.

He felt like he was in heaven, slicking romantic, passionate kisses into her soft skin, listening to the fluttering of her heartbeat through her chest and the way she breathed deeply to ground herself to the pleasure he was delivering her. He gazed up at her through heavily lidded eyes, greedily drinking in every twitch and tremble of her supple, soft frame. Slowly, he let his tongue slide out past his lips and ran it around one of her nipples, satisfied when she lurched against his touch. “Fuck,” she moaned, long and drawn out, “you know I can’t resist you when you do that.”

“I don’t want you to resist me.” Trunks muttered, pulling her nipple into his mouth carefully, swirling his tongue around as if her cute nubs were his favourite dessert. 

She arched her back, curving her spine in a sinful crescent that accentuated the shape of her figure, pressing her breasts more firmly into Trunks’ face. He eagerly slid an arm beneath her body, holding the shape of her arch in place with his strength, and continued to suckle on her nipple greedily. Both of her hands were wound into his hair, twisting mindlessly, tugging on the strands so firmly that some would be bound to come loose in her grip. Trunks didn’t seem to mind, in fact he was almost spurred on by her rough treatment, and he moved over to her other breast, paying that peak just as much dutiful attention as the first. 

“You’re doing such a good job,” she praised, her voice signing to him like an angel’s chorus, “I think you deserve a little treat, Trunks.”

Reluctant to remove his mouth from her chest, Trunks scowled up at her from beneath his messy bangs, slurping around her hardened nipple while squeezing her other mound in his insatiable hands. 

“Trunks…” She lilted, tugging on his hair. He whined into her breasts, finally leaving go of her cute nipple to press his face between the plump softness of her cleavage. She let go of his hair to push her tits together, sandwiching his pouting face between them. “You’re having too much fun, huh?” 

He nodded, impenetrably, huffing into her skin like the spoilt bastard that he was. 

“Fine.” She giggled airily, and then she pressed onto his shoulders to force him into sitting up. She lifted her bottom from the bed. “Take them off.”

Heat rose to Trunks’ face, blushing his chest and his neck bright pink before it reached his cheeks, and he hastily grabbed at her lacey panties to pull them from her body. A sharp, scratchy ripping sound shattered the ambient quiet of their room and Nico sat bolt upright, her brows set low. “Trunks!” She scolded, glaring down at her innocent lover. “What did you do?”

Trunks sheepishly lifted the tattered remains of her panties into the air, though they were less panties and more just a scrap of material, as in his eagerness to get them off of her he’d managed to tear them almost completely in two. “Oops?” He tried, batting his pretty lilac eyelashes and grinning bashfully. 

“You fucking shredded them!” She whined. “Those were expensive…”

“I’ll buy you more.” Trunks promised, throwing the torn panties onto the floor and crawling between her legs. “I’ll buy you whatever you want.” She tried to shut him out by turning away stuffily but he grabbed onto her legs, dragging her body down the bed in an eager show of strength he didn’t often bring to the bedroom. Her head hit the pillows gracefully and she let out a tiny yelp as she felt herself being dragged down the sheets. 

“They were my favourite pair.” She scowled, trying to wrestle her way back upright. Trunks was too fast, however, and pinned both of her arms to the bed by her wrists. “They don’t even stock that style anymore.” He pinned her with his body, too, pressing the hard, throbbing bulge of his clothed erection to her core, feeling her squirming beneath him. 

“I’m the fucking CEO of the fucking Capsule Corporation.” Trunks growled, moving so that he could whisper directly into her ear. She shivered, unable to stop herself arching her body towards him. “I’ll buy out whatever fucking company it is and demand that they restock them. I don’t give a single fuck what it takes. As long as you let me fuck you. Right now.”

Nico shivered at his aggression, not even trying to hide how lost she was becoming at his snappish, brutish treatment. She trembled in his hold, panting uselessly as she felt herself losing control of the power, letting herself become a conduit for his stress relief. “You can fuck me, Trunks.” She breathed, pressing her lips to his neck, feeling him twitch and groan at her softness, “You can have me however you want me. I’m yours.”

He grunted, deeply and gravelly, and then finally let go of her wrists. She stretched her delicate fingers out as they felt numb and tingly at how tightly he’d been gripping her, and when she glanced over at her arms she could see her pale skin was already flushing with marks that she’d adore the next day. She glanced up at Trunks, his figure looked strong and powerful before her, and he pushed his bangs back out of his face, retreating down her body. 

“What are you doing?” She asked, watching him settle down between her plush, plump thighs. 

“You told me that I could have you any way I wanted you.” He replied, his blue eyes glittering in the dim lighting. “I want you cumming on my tongue.”

She didn’t even have a second to relish in the way that the admission sounded on his sinful lips before he was pressing them to her lower lips gently, a soft, fleeting, whisper of a kiss. “Fuck,” she whimpered, her fingers losing themselves in his purple tresses again, “please, more.”

Trunks smiled proudly to himself, nestling his pretty, sharp nose into the top of her mound and lavishing her folds with wet, wide caresses of his tongue. Her body twisted and writhed in blissful agony as he made out with her softness, his tongue slurping up the slick, drooling puddles of essence that she’d already begun to leak. She tasted like heaven, warm, buttery and salty on his tongue, and he drank her down thirstily as if she was the only nourishment left on Earth. He reached one hand up to lazily drift the pads of his fingertips across one of her nipples - causing her to arch and whine needily - and with the other hand he carefully pried her pussy apart to get better access to the deepest, most delicious parts. 

She was in heaven, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut as Trunks’ mouth made love to her most intimate place. He used the flat of his tongue expertly, delivering long, slow, wide slicks from the bottom of her entrance all of the way through her petal folds and stopping just short of her throbbing clit. Her legs shook on either side of her lover, her hands in his hair desperately trying to direct his speed and placement. When he didn’t shift she tried to lift her bottom up to more forcefully grind into his mouth but he clamped her body back down to the bed, continuing his lazy, sluggish ministrations. 

“Please,” she whispered, twisting her body about to try and trick Trunks’ tongue into sliding across her glittering little pearl, “I need more.”

“I know what you need.” Trunks whispered, his breath fanning across her inner and outer labia. He pressed his lips in a soft kiss, smothering her slimy essence all over his chin and mouth. “Lie there and let me love you.”

Nico whimpered, again twisting his hair in her fingers, but he didn’t relent. He opened his mouth again and pressed his tongue inside of her, causing her to buck and yelp at the sudden intrusion. She was wetter and hotter inside, and Trunks groaned unashamedly as her flavour enveloped his entire mouth. He pulled up on her pubic mound, creating tension across her entire pussy, and she squeaked out in bliss as the movement gave her clit a short stab of stimulation. “Do it more,” she begged uselessly, “Trunks, do it more!”

He shook his head between her legs, pressing his thick tongue as deeply into her as he could, rocking the tip as far as he was able to, slurping and swallowing her slick down as she poured helplessly into his greedy throat. Carefully, he slipped his tongue out from her hole and pressed a worshipful kiss to the entrance, groaning as he did. Her scent had enveloped him, he was becoming drunk on the pheromones overtaking his brain, and he found himself rutting down against his bedsheets, fucking his cock against the duvet as he lost himself in the haze of her pussy. 

“You’re fucking yourself, aren’t you?” Nico whispered, her voice praiseful, worshipful. “I want to see, Trunks.”

He blinked up at her and then slid his boxers down his muscular legs, discarding them on the floor, as Nico propped herself up on her elbows to get a better look. He tilted his body onto his hip so that she had an unimpeded view of everything that he had to offer and she whimpered, her body physically shuddering at the sight, which served to make Trunks gloat silently, a smug, self-satisfied grin painting his handsome face. His cock was both long and thick, golden and lightly veiny, sitting straight upright above his full, pert balls that were decorated with well-kempt lavender pubic hair. He was circumcised, and prettily so, as the thick head of his dick was pink and pretty and beading the milkiest drop of precum right at his slit. Nico’s mouth watered just looking at it. 

“Show me how you do it.” She begged, not knowing if she was in control or not anymore, and not really caring as long as she was with Trunks. 

Trunks tilted his body back down, pressing his cock to the silky sheets of his bedding, gazing up at Nico in a blur, his lilac eyelashes batting softly and slowly as he whined at the blissful contact of the bed on his tip. 

“Fuck yourself,” she whispered, grabbing hold of his lavender locks again, “fuck yourself while you kiss my pussy.”

He lost any semblance of self restraint that he had left and he dove into the precious treasure between her legs, pushing his throbbing cock against the bedsheets in a crazed rut as he finally let his talented tongue roll around her plump little clit. She moaned out, high pitched and tuneful, her hands still gripping Trunks’ hair in case he dared to stop his devout worship of her cunt. She carved her fingernails across his scalp, scratching her adoration of him into the very pores of his hair follicles, smearing her lovesick little pussy into his willing mouth as he drilled himself down into the bedding, groaning wildly at his own ecstasy. 

“Good boy,” she whined, “good fucking boy…” She managed to pull her head back up from where she’d thrown it against the pillow so that she could gaze down on the fine art in front of her, the way his golden, muscular body twisted and trembled as he made love to the bed with his rod and made love to her soft cherry with his mouth. 

He had lost himself in the bliss of making love to her clit, loving the way it pulsed and bounced against his tongue as he swirled his poetry into the plushness of it, so much so that when she began to tug on his hair and beg for him to move he didn’t respond. 

“Trunks,” she sang, more firmly, tugging harder, “I want you. You can fuck me now.”

“I’m not done,” Trunks grunted, his mouth moving against her lips sinfully as he spoke, “please, I don’t want to stop yet.”

Nico whimpered, cupping the back of her lover’s head and cradling him gently, lifting her pussy more eagerly into his eager mouth. “Don’t you want to fuck me, instead of the bed?” She asked breathlessly. 

Trunks nodded eagerly, like a needy pup, but didn’t stop the way his hips thrust down at the bed nor did he pull his hungry mouth away from her flower. 

“Then come up here and fuck me.” Nico breathed, spreading her legs wider, sliding one hand beneath his chin to cup his jaw. “Trunks, please.”

“But,” Trunks sighed euphorically, “you taste so good, just a little more. Please?”

She softened, moaning and biting her lip at his praiseful admission. “I want to finish on your cock.” She admitted. “Don’t make me cum.”

Trunks grinned into her core, nestling the tip of his nose against her nub as he suckled on her folds. “Who says I can’t make you cum twice?”

Nico giggled blissfully, lightly and playfully tapping Trunks on the head. “Confident, are we? Bed fucker?”

Trunks scowled, and then finally pulled away from her sweet, sugary pussy with a pout befitting a prince. “How can I stop myself grinding against the bed when you taste so good?”

“I love it when you do.” Nico admitted, wrapping her legs around Trunks as he crawled up her body, positioning himself between her thighs. “But now I want you to fuck my pussy like you own it.”

“Like I own it?” Trunks whispered against her jaw, pressing a kiss there as he propped his body up above hers. “Fuck. You’re just asking for an injury, Miss Satan.”

“Oh?” Nico giggled softly, running her hands down Trunks’ back and sides, before coming to rest on his full, muscular ass cheeks. “Is that a challenge, Mr Brief?”

“Perhaps.” He pulled up to nuzzle his nose against hers, before pressing a deep kiss to her mouth, sliding his tongue past her lips. She could taste her buttery slick on his tongue and it turned her on even more, her body becoming listless and eager beneath his. As they made out, deeply and lovingly, he carefully lined the tip of his cock up with her wet, pulsing entrance. “Are you ready?” 

She nodded, dragging her hands up his body to lace them around his neck, playing with the short, buzzed hairs of his undercut in his fingers. “Yes.” She breathed, gazing up at him. “Fuck me, Trunks.”

Trunks grunted deeply, breathing harshly through his nose, his lips pursed with the effort it was taking him not to yell out in pure bliss. Slowly, he began to sink himself into the willing, velvet walls of his lover, his cock twitching erratically as her insides squeezed and throbbed around it. “You’re tight,” he grunted with exertion, his fingers tightening in the sheets around her head, “fuck, you feel so good.”

“You do too, Trunks.” Nico whispered back, wrapping her legs more tightly around his thick, muscular torso. She used her ankles to dig into his lower back, applying pressure to attempt to suck him more deeply inside of her. “I can take it.”

“Let me savour it.” Trunks groaned, still slowly pulsing his way into her, aided by the heavenly amount of syrup she’d leaked for him. He lowered his body down, pressing his lips to hers, and she parted them, allowing their tongues to come together. She licked along the length of his tongue, whining as she felt his delicious, viscous saliva pool into her mouth. Trunks heaved a grunt, pushing the last of his thick cock deeply inside of her until he felt himself bottom out, the tip of his cock kissing the entrance to her womb. “Fuck, you took it all. Good girl.”

Nico flushed pretty pink at the praise. “What happened to you being my good boy?”

Trunks smiled against her mouth, pressing another fleeting kiss to her lips. “I’m still good.” He promised, and with that admission he started to grind himself inside of her. She lurched, her whole body jumping forward, and she clutched him more tightly in her arms. “See?” 

“Y-yeah,” Nico gasped, one eye twitching closed, her lips parted as her throat couldn’t help but sing out heavenly moans to her adoration, “you’re so deep inside, fuck, I can barely take it!”

That stroked Trunks’ ego and he grinned darkly, nestling his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her deliciously spicy and sweet scented perfume before peppering her throat with wet, lavish kisses. “Do you want me to pull out?” He asked.

“No,” Nico begged, tightening her grip around him, “don’t stop, Trunks. Please.”

He rolled his hips in a waving motion, barely pulling his cock out at all, aiming to stimulate her clit from the inside with the thick, pulsing length of his shaft. His pelvis was pressed up against her pubic mound as he grinded into her, and he shifted his weight onto one elbow so that he could drag his other hand down her body. He took one of her nipples between his fingers and rolled it, delighted with himself when she whined and bounced her pussy down even harder against his dick. “You love it when I play with your cute little tits.” He commented idly, taking the nipple in his mouth and worshipping it with the flat of his tongue.

“Don’t say it like that! You’re so vulgar!” Nico flushed, whining and whimpering in embarrassment. 

“You do, though.” Trunks sucked, pulling her nipple meanly between his teeth and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. “Fuck, your pussy is so tight tonight. You’ve really missed me while I’ve been working, huh?”

She hid her face in shame, pulling her hands from behind his neck to hide behind them, her face flushing deep crimson as she allowed herself to surrender completely to Trunks’ will. “You’re so embarrassing, stop it!” She whined. 

Trunks relinquished his slick abuse of her nipple and grabbed her wrists in his hands, pinning them above her head and away from her strawberry red face. “I want to see you.” She tried to turn her face from him, but he then held both of her wrists in one hand and slipped the other around her throat. She whined, her eyes rolling back, as soon as his fingers found purchase around her neck. “You’re such a slut for a rough treatment.” He chastised her, and began to gently apply pressure on either side of her windpipe. Not enough to stop her breathing, just enough to restrict the airflow. 

“I’m a slut for you Trunks.” She revelled in the torturous pleasure, blinking dumbly up at Trunks. “Do it, Trunks, fuck me,” she choked through his tightening grasp, “fuck me hard!”

“You have to earn it.” He whispered, and then he dropped his body weight down a little more to increase the pressure on her clit. She whined and gasped into the touch. “Can you cum for me, Nico?”

She nodded, desperately, and Trunks let go of her wrists and throat. She snaked her arms beneath his, and gripped her legs from behind her knees, hoisting her lower half upright so that her hips were tilted away from the bed. “Like this,” she said breathlessly, and Trunks felt her pussy becoming twitchy and excited around his cock, “slowly.”

Trunks obeyed her polite begging with a sharply raised eyebrow and a smug grin, and planted his hands on either side of her head for purchase. She’d pulled her hips up so sharply that he could enter her even more deeply in the new angle, and still he continued to grind himself inside of her, rather than thrust. His pelvis was directly stimulating her clit as it was exposed from the wideness with which she had spread her legs and she tipped her head back and whimpered, unembarrassed, as she let her body slide into a helpless lust she couldn’t possibly bring herself out of.

“Good girl,” Trunks cooed, “you take cock so well.”

“Yes,” Nico sang back brainlessly, her legs tensing and rocking on either side of him, “I’m a good girl, Trunks.”

“Trunks’ good girl.”

“Trunks’ good girl.”

Her breathing sped up, sharp little gasps of air that sounded wheezy and desperate in the perfect still of the room, and Trunks kept perfect pace, sliding and grinding slowly and deeply inside of her, stimulating her pretty clit from the inside and from the outside in perfect tandem. She twitched and panted beneath him, her eyes rolled back, her lips parted, her chest bouncing with the force with which Trunks pumped inside of her. 

“I’m close,” she whispered, tensing up so that her body was taut and immovable, “Trunks, please, Trunks, I’m so close…”

“Yeah?” Trunks goaded, slightly picking up the pace, just enough to rocket her body beyond the cusp of return, watching her tremble and fall apart as he edged her on the precipice of her well earned orgasm. “You gonna cum all over my cock pretty girl?”

“Yes p-please,” she gasped, choking on thin air, her face red and flushed with desire, her eyes swimming with lust, her cunt clutching onto his cock so tightly that he was sure she was trying to seal him inside of her velvetness forever, “please, Trunks, please, Trunks!”

“Cum for me, princess.” 

Her whines reached a breaking point and her entire body seized up as her climax overtook her. “T-Trunks!” She wailed, clutching onto him, her entire body trembling like a delicate little leaf as she came, “I’m c-cumming! Trunks!” She twitched in his hold and he rolled his hips into her over and over again, stimulating her as she rode out her high, rocking his body with hers as she whimpered and shuddered against the waves of pleasure he’d rocketed her into.

“Good girl,” he cooed into her ear, slowing down enough so that she didn’t become overstimulated, “good girl.” 

She was trying to steady her breathing, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. “Trunks?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Use me.”

“Huh?”

“Use me.” She repeated, gazing up at him through heavily lidded eyes swimming with starlit arousal. “I’ll be your stress relief, Trunks. I’m a Satan. I can take it. Use me.”

He swallowed thickly, his cock twitching inside of her still throbbing walls. “Are you sure?”

“Fuck me, Trunks. Like you own me.”

“I do own you.” He slipped himself out of her, gloating to himself when she whimpered at the loss of his thickness filling her fit to burst, and then tucked one hand beneath her hip. “You asked for it!” He chuckled, and in one swift motion he flipped her over onto her stomach. She whimpered at the sudden alarming movement and attempted to get up onto her knees, but Trunks pressed his hands into her hips, flattening her to the bed. “Stay right there.”

“Like this?” She whined shyly, glancing over her shoulder at him.

He tapped her ass with one hand, watching it jiggle. “Yes.” He straddled her thighs, his legs on either side of hers, and then tucked his thumbs into the crease between her plump ass cheeks and her plush thighs. “I fucking love this view.”

“It’s embarrassing!” She whined, stuffing her face into the pillow as she felt Trunks pulling her ass cheeks apart with his thumbs and groaning out in ecstasy at the display. “It’s such an unflattering angle...”

“Trust me,” Trunks grunted, losing a little bit of his composure, “you look perfect.” He pried her entrance open more, slipping his fingers through her slimy release to poke around at her pussy. She shifted and squirmed at his rough touch. “Don’t you wanna be my good girl?”

“I do.” She said poutily, staring over her shoulder at him again. 

“Gonna let me use you, then?”

She nodded again, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “Anything for you, Trunks.”

He grinned, his heart pulsing hard in his chest at the way the admission looked in her blue eyes. “Ready?” She nodded, her lips swollen and kiss bitten, feeling him lining up against her hole again. 

He sunk himself down inside of her, bottoming out in one unforigving thrust. Nico squirmed and squeaked at the pressure, but because his weight was pinning her to the bed there wasn’t much that she could do. “Fuck, that’s good pussy!” He growled, and then he was leaning forward and grabbing Nico’s throat from behind. “Don’t forget how to tap out.”

“I won’t!” She gasped. “You’re driving me crazy, I’m gonna go insane if you don’t fuck m-”

He lost control almost immediately and began pounding inside of her recklessly, cutting her off mid sentence, her voice suffocating in her throat and her body huffing up the bed helplessly as he fucked her. “You fucking love it!” He growled, slamming his cock into her slippy little cunt as roughly as he thought she could handle.

“I love it,” she whimpered feebly, “use me, I’m dumb for your cock, Trunks, I’ll be anything you want as long as you fuck me!”

“Good girl.” He groaned. He felt his balls pulling taut as he neared his release, and let go of her throat to push down roughly on the side of her face so that her head was pushed into the pillow, but facing out so that she could still breathe. The view of her completely surrendering to him, answering to his beck and call, submitting and being completely and undeniably his set his entire body aflame and he began to lose himself in the bliss that her heavenly body was delivering to him. 

“Fuck, Trunks!” She gasped, her eyes rolling back at his rough treatment, “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep being rough like that!”

He pushed down harder on her head, panicking as he knew he was far too close to cumming to hold himself off for much longer. “Yeah? You love it that much you wanna cum again?” 

“Y-yeah!” She garbled, useless and listless and dumb beneath him. “I want it, Trunks, please don’t stop, please don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Sweat poured down from his hair line as he pummeled her, his cock twitching and pulsing inside of her as he desperately edged himself, becoming hyper sensitive to the way her perfectly pink pussy suckled on his tip as he thrust inside of her, feeling the way her tight walls started to twitch and pulse in a rhythmic trance as she neared her second climax, enamoured by the way her sugary pussy still poured her sweet essence out to aid his blissful slide. 

“C-close,” she whimpered, her voice strained and high, “s-so close! Harder, Trunks, fuck me harder!”

She’s gonna be the fucking death of me! But he did as she’d begged, slamming himself so roughly and deeply into her that he was sure he was going to break her pelvis apart with the force of his thrusts. He gripped her head more tightly in his hand and pushed her more firmly into the bed, watching with sinful delight as she fell apart from his roughness, feeling his orgasm crest and begin to wash over him. “I’m gonna cum inside of you, Nico, fuck!”

And then she was wailing out, her body twitching and arching beneath him; “I’m c-cumming, T-Trunks!” She slurred, dumbly, and Trunks let himself go at the exact same time in a haze of ecstasy, balls pulling tight and releasing his entire load into her throbbing, leaky little cunt. 

“Oh Gods, that’s it,” he groaned, rocking himself into her as he made sure to fill her all the way up to her womb, “take it, good girl, good fuckin’ girl.”

Nico panted, breathless and dizzy, limp and twitchy beneath him. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered, gingerly removing his spent cock from inside of her. He couldn’t help but gaze lovingly at her oozy pussy hole as his loads of hot cum splurged out from her insides. 

“I’m okay.” She whispered, her voice small and fragile. “Need a towel.”

“I’m on it.” He clambered up from the bed, his legs shaky and his body aching from the force of how hard he’d fucked her, scurrying to the bathroom to get water and a few towels. When he returned Nico had rolled over onto her back, her legs clutched shyly together in an attempt to stop his cum from oozing out of her and ruining the sheets. “Can you lift up?” 

She nodded, raising her hips off the bed, and Trunks slid the towel underneath her ass. He then carefully mopped her up with a wash cloth, dabbing so gently around her pussy as he knew she’d be sensitive after two orgasms and a pounding like that. “Feel better?” She asked softly.

“Hm?” Trunks looked up into her eyes softly, surprised to see such a caring expression on her face. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Maybe. But… did it work?” She said firmly. She’d propped herself up on her elbows and she was staring at him seriously. “The stress relief?”

“Oh.” Trunks chuckled, a little bashfully, awkwardly rubbing his head. He could feel his cheeks heating up. “Yeah. It worked. Thank you.”

“Will you come to me, next time?”

“I already did cum in you.”

Nico playfully punched his arm. “Come to me.” She repeated sternly, but her eyes were lit up with pretty giggles. “Next time there’s something wrong, I want you to know that you can always rely on me. No matter what, no matter when. I want to help you, Trunks.”

“Yeah.” Trunks cleared his throat awkwardly. “Sorry about that. You know how I get.”

“I love you.”

He flushed, whatever words he was thinking of saying died in his mouth and all he could do was stare at her blankly. His mind was running a mile a minute and a thousand thoughts began to fight and crash into each other in his head, none of it making sense but at the same time all of it making sense, if only he could work out how to sort through and verbalise it all.

“No matter what, okay? I’ll always be yours, and you’ll always be mine.” She said serenely, her voice low and humming, and then she was wrapping her arms around him and dragging him down into the bedsheets, wrapping his body up in her love and her limbs. He yelped as he tumbled down with her, but immediately softened into her embrace, feeling the safest he’d felt all day when she carded her fingers through his hair and pressed her delicate kisses to his sweaty forehead. 

His breathing slowed down in time with hers, and soon the sweet promises of a blissfully peaceful sleep were tugging at both of their hazy minds. He nuzzled into her neck, breathing in that orangey, licoricey scent again, and sighed blissfully. 

“Nico?”

“Mhm?”

“I love you, too.”