drinking/kissing, slice of life, fluff. 446words ⁺ᵇᵒⁿᵘˢ
There’s a bottle of wine off the table when you get home.
You know from the color of the glass that it’s the sweet kind— the kind Kento goes out of his way to buy because he knows you like how it tastes on evenings like this, with the moon bright in the sky and sticky, summer humidity hanging in the air. It’s perfect, and you’re grateful to be home, where your boyfriend clearly has plans to stay for the rest of the night.
“I’m home!”
“You’re early.”
You turn around to see him coming down the steps. He’s fresh out of the shower, hair towel dried and skin still a little flushed. The inky black of his tshirt and hakama are starkly different from his typical outside attire, drawing all your attention to him the same way it did the first time you saw him dressed down. (The same way it always does, if you’re honest with yourself. You have to resist the urge to ogle him and the way his tshirt clings to his body.)
He closes the distance between you, looking you over as though to make sure you made it back in one piece. “Welcome home…” His fingers are warm around your wrist as he takes it upon himself to slip your watch off and set it next to his on the charger. You offer up your phone, too, relieved to be free of any commitments now that you’re safely home to him.
“Not quite yet.”
He hums, leaning in to kiss your forehead before hugging you to his chest and pressing another kiss to your hair. You take the opportunity to settle your hands on his waist, unable to resist the urge to touch him even as he laughs at you. “Go and get showered.”
There isn’t much room for argument as he pulls away enough to look down at you. The adoration in his gaze causes your face to go hot and you attempt to look away from him, but he stops you by gently tilting your chin up. His smirk is mischievous, but it does nothing to dampen the look in his eye, and the combination pools heat in your stomach. He doesn’t really kiss you; rather, his lips hover over yours and you can taste whiskey on his breath as he gives you a squeeze before stepping out of your way.
“Welcome home, love,” he says, obviously aware that he’s done it right this time. That he’s left you a little dazed and wanting more. He knocks his shoulder into yours, his large hand patting your bum as he passes you. “Go on. Dinner will be ready soon.”
♡ bonus. 1200words. it gets a little emotionally heavy |´∀｀●)
Dinner’s light —ahi tuna over summer salad, paired with a sparkling water you both fell for one summer in Italy— and eaten on the balcony, your knees tucked under his as you sit facing him instead of the view you all painstakingly searched for when you decided it was time to move in together. The fan at your back doesn’t do much to relieve the heat that’s yet to burn off but it does add a romantic edge to the night, underlining the old love songs playing from a speaker in the living room.
“Do you remember the first night we spent together?”
You look over your shoulder to see Kento making his way back to you from the kitchen with dessert: a bottle of wine and watermelon, cold and cubed in half the rind. “In my old apartment?”
“Yeah.”
He loads a chopstick with a few pieces of fruit and offers it to you before pouring a double serving of rosé into each glass.
A smile plays in your lips as you properly recall it, remembering the way his fingers felt when they brushed yours and the way the moon reflected in his eyes until he turned to face you instead of Tokyo. You’d only just realized how handsome he was (because of the honest way he smiled into the camera outside your door at the sound of your voice on the other side), all scarred sharp lines and soft brown eyes under his halo of blond hair, and it felt a lot like finding an old sweater you never knew you had.
It was heartwarming and nostalgic and filled you with a comfort you’d deny needing if anyone ever asked. But, everything seemed to shift, as though making sense for the first time, and it’s only ever become clearer and clearer. Even now as you look up at him you can’t help but feel that, in a lot of ways, you’ve never really left that moment.
You’re still on that old balcony, your center of gravity aligning with his. Willing and ready to take the next step. Whichever one he wanted.
Your cheeks are stuffed full of melon when your eyes meet his, and he huffs out a laugh so attractive that you think you might already be a little drunk. Especially as you go on to admit, “I spent the whole evening waiting for you to kiss me. Like, really kiss me.”
It’s tender under his gaze, the fondness in his barely there smile imprinting on you. As though he knows you’re putty under his attention, he takes mercy on you and looks away long enough to put a stopper in the wine bottle. “We got drunk and made out on the couch.”
You laugh, stabbing a larger piece of fruit and offering it to him. “That sounds so funny from your mouth.”
He takes your offering, tucking it into his cheek before asking, “Is that not what happened?” He slides your wine glass closer to you. “We really kissed until you fell asleep.”
“Yeah, but…” Your face is hot as you remember waking up tucked into his side as though it was normal. “That didn’t count.”
He chuckles. “Did it count in the morning?”
It did. He’d kissed you slowly and his mouth tasted like the honey tea you’d brewed while he showered. You’d probably fallen for him then, sitting next to him at your kitchen table.
“Yeah. It did,” you admit, lifting your glass toward him when you realize he’s waiting for you to drink. “What are we celebrating? The weekend?”
“I love you,” he offers, gently tapping his glass into yours.
His gaze moves from your face to your glass before focusing on your mouth as he waits for you to have some. Your face is hot from more than just the summer heat, and you let out a shaky laugh before taking a sip. You follow it with a cold piece of watermelon as he takes a sip of his wine and sets his glass to the side.
“I love you, too.”
He hums his acknowledgment, closing the small space between you and taking your face into his hands. His lips brush yours, only a breath closer than what he’d done earlier, and laughs at the embarrassingly desperate sound that slips from you.
“That’s a good reason, right?” He kisses the corner of your mouth.
He kisses you again, properly this time, and you part your lips eagerly as he fits himself between your legs. His free hand finds one of yours and draws your arm around his waist. He kisses you until you're breathless, tugging you to the edge of your seat —closer to him despite how hot it is. (It isn’t enough, really. Even as you feel sweat down your back, you can’t help but want more.)
“Hmm?”
“Yeah.”
His eyes fall closed when you lift your hand to brush his hair behind his ear. You encourage him closer and press a kiss to the corner of his prosthetic, following a line of scars down his face when he moans at the feeling.
“I wanted to start there. Here,” he admits. “…being your summer boyfriend. Because that was night I realized I wanted to be here with you one day.”
You can’t help the way you smile, all of the butterflies settling in your stomach to give room for something larger than yourself and your silly emotions.
“You looked at me like you really saw me from the moment we met.” He opens his eyes, a smile forming once he realizes you’re grinning at him. “But you smiled at me just like this before you dragged me over to the couch.”
“How can you even remember that?”
“Because people hadn’t seen me since the accident, love. All they saw were the scars. All they see are scars.” He kisses you again. “But that’s not the point. The point is I’d been living in a dark night until I met you. And then you smiled at me like you meant it, and you followed it by falling asleep on my chest…it was the first time I’d felt real in a long time. That I remembered there were still tangible things I wanted out of life.”
You swallow, laughing a little as you wrap both arms around his waist and press your face into his chest. “Ken…”
“Yes, love?”
“This feels different from you just being my summer boyfriend.”
“I already got you once,” he points out, the matter-of-fact tone of his voice offering you false-relief. “The stakes are higher this time.”
“Oh, are they?”
Kento pulls away, kissing your forehead before reaching for his glass and sitting back down. “Haven’t I always given you exactly what you want?” He takes a sip of wine before loading your chopstick up for a second time and holding it out for you to take a bite. “This confession is fair warning, love.”
You feel yourself short circuit when he wipes your mouth and sucks the juice from his thumb into his mouth.
“Warning?”
The sound he makes is off handed, as though you asking is inconsequential. It’s sexier than it should be, causing you to shiver in anticipation, every inch of you hanging on whatever it is he’s going to say next.
“You asked for it.”
♋︎ “sultry in the summer heat, i know with you we can’t be beat” — take me somewhere + “when you kiss me, you really kiss me/ tell me, how can you resist me?” —waterbirds
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2626wc, slice of life fluff. (kissing/romance…should i offer a warning for his mode of transportation? it’s very sexy of him).
You slow to a stop next to Kento, glancing at the ocean before looking back at him. He’s taking in the view, a soft smile on his lips, and you can’t help but stretch to kiss his shoulder as you lean in his direction. “Final destination?”
He looks down at you. “In a hurry?”
“Wha—no?”
“I thought you were an enjoy the journey type of girl, love.”
You look away from him, your face hot as you deal with the side effects of being seen by someone. (Of being teased, too.) “I am. I’m enjoying it. But you’re a destination person.”
“I see,” he murmurs as he looks back out at the ocean. “I see it with you,” he explains, causing your eyes to go wide. “I know where we’re going. And I’m not really in a rush to get there. So, I can enjoy the journey, too…
“Do you remember this spot?”
Your brow furrows as you look around. You’ve escaped to this town with him so many times that they’ve started to blur together. And you’re sure you all have been at this lookout more than a handful of times. You’re just about to tell him that you can’t think of anything special when you realize there was one time—
You laugh. “The time we gave each other the same gift?”
His smile broadens.
“The one that neither of us even liked?”
He pulls off one of his gloves and reaches into his pocket before holding his hand out for you to see. “The very one.”
You peek into his hand to see two thin rings, the same color as the sea glass you all gifted each a few years ago, and can’t help but gasp. “Oh my— oh!”
You frown up at your boyfriend, who closed his fist when you tried to reach for a ring. Kento laughs and you notice that he’s particularly handsome tonight, under the golden hue of an old street lamp. You feel heat pooling in your stomach as you watch him shift rings around in his fist before offering you the larger one.
“Are they really made from those stones?” You turn it over between your fingers, silently wondering if he turned them to rings himself or if he asked Choso to do it.
“Yes,” he divulges. “But, more importantly: This is a covenant.”
The world closes in on you, making you feel as though all there is is this moment: the ocean below, waves crashing along the beach as he offers you a promise —a covenant— and as you look up at him you can’t really make sense of beyond the fact that you’d agree to anything.
He mirrors you, holding up the smaller ring and offering you a look that draws butterflies to your stomach. “If anyone asks,” he explains, voice low and measured, “I’m your boyfriend until the end of the summer.”
“Oh?” You tease. “If anyone asks? And if they don’t?”
“They will.”
“I’m loving the confidence.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I love you,” he counters, smug amusement on his face, and it’s too attractive. Terribly attractive, if you’re honest.
“Play fair, Nanami Kento.”
“Hold it until we get the water.” He leans closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. You watch as he settles the smaller ring in his palm before he slips his glove back on. “Think about how much you love me, too.”
Before you can say anything, he winks at you and pushes off on his longboard, causing you to laugh in disbelief before slipping the ring on your thumb and peddling after him.
It only takes about five more minutes to get to the beach, and it’s five minutes you enjoy as you watch him skate, the air whipping at his linen shirt as lithe muscle supports every shift of his body. He’s careful to never get too far ahead of you, even as he indulges in taking some of the curves of the hill a little too recklessly for your liking; and, every time one of his hands grazes the ground to support, he flashes you a smile that tells you he knows you find him really hot whenever he does it.
Once you get there, Kento shoulders the backpack from the basket before you let your bike fall into the sand next to his board. You kick your shoes off next to his and look out over the water as he pockets his gloves and cuffs his pant legs. He wordlessly offers you his hand before leading you to walk along the shoreline.
“A covenant, huh?”
He hums, lifting your joined hands and kissing the ring on your right hand. “I already made you a promise,” he reminds you, voice gentle over the waves. There’s a hint of humor as he goes on to say, “But, your request…this is very serious, my love. No take backs.”
You smile to yourself. “No take backs?”
“If you tell someone I’m something other than your summer boyfriend, I’ll be really upset.”
Your eyes meet his and he cracks a smile, slowing to a stop as you say, “You’re awfully cute this evening.”
You can’t be certain in the dark, but you're pretty sure the tops of his ears turn pink. “I watched you secretly pet that cat in the alley while I got you a snowcone” —your face once again goes hot— “the one I told you not to pet, remember?”
“No.”
“I heard you tell it that you’d be in trouble if you were caught,” he deadpans as you giggle. “And then watched as you pulled out one of those lickable treats.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I have photo evidence,” he admits, the matter-of-fact tone of his voice making the whole conversation even more amusing. “Video evidence, actually.”
“…I might have an idea…”
He huffs out a laugh, turning and pulling you into his chest. As you both look out over the sea, he goes on to say, “It was cute. It reminded me that I’m in love with you.”
You laugh nervously and he squeezes you a little tighter.
“Hear me out,” he murmurs. “The cat looked sickly. I didn’t want you to pet it. But, while I was watching you, I realized that there wasn’t much difference between me and the cat—”
“Oh. That’s good. Because I named him Nya~nami.”
The silence that settles between you is deafening, but you eventually feel him shift to rest his forehead on your shoulder before asking, “Did you really?”
“He was blue with gold eyes! How couldn’t I? I invited him home but he didn’t seem too interested…”
He sighs. “I suppose he and I are quite different, then.” When you turn to look at him he reaches for your left hand and plays with the ring on your thumb. “Perhaps he’s a stronger man if he can say no to you.”
You start to laugh in full, the sound clearly startling him before he smiles too, obviously very pleased with himself. Once you’ve settled down, you ask, “You want to deny me something?”
“I’d give you the moon if you asked for it.”
(You’re certain you already have it.)
“I can’t believe a cat made you feel so mushy…anyway he was a nice boy. Just hungry, I think. Maybe got into one too many fights recently.”
“People probably told you to leave me alone, too.”
Oh. It isn’t a parallel you’d drawn as you coddled the cat for a few minutes, but the fact that your stoic boyfriend had seen himself in a stray causes you to realize that he has feelings towards your relationship that you’ve never considered.
He sighs and meets your gaze. “We can go try to find it. If you want. Tomorrow.”
“Oh, you love-love me, huh?”
He just hums and takes hold of your free hand, too. “I do. I appreciate the effort you’ve put into this. Into me. More than I could explain in words. And—”
He sighs. “This isn’t what I planned to say at all, love.”
“I like hearing it.”
“I know.” He swallows thickly and the glimpse of nerves is surprising to you.
“Ken—”
“I wasn’t sure of my purpose anymore, after the accident. I am physically incapable of doing the one thing I’d found valuable. Saw my worth in. It’s…difficult. To stomach that truth.
“And yet, I can only accept that I’m grateful for the hardship. The suffering, really,—” he smiles when you laugh, his gaze searching your face as though to memorize the moment “—because it’s shaped me into this…into this man.
“Someone who is not only willing, but ready to grow. To look at life from both sides…I could not have both. I knew that superficially. But knowing it now is different, because I understand that my worth isn’t measured by what I can do for the world. It’s about what I can do for my world.”
“Kento.”
“Hmm?”
Your heart is in your throat. He’s never put any of this into so many words and you have no idea how you’re supposed to take it at 4am on an old beach. When it’s just the two of you and paradise at your feet. With the moon and ocean as your only witnesses.
“You’re a life worth lived, Yn.”
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing unexpected. I looked at these stones sitting in the office and realized I couldn’t remember which belonged to me and which one belonged to you. It didn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. I…need you to know this.”
“Know what?”
Your heart is in your throat and your head is in the clouds. You aren’t sure if your feet are still in the sand but your hands are certainly in his. They’re real and warm and reassuring.
“I just need you to know I found myself —who I was meant to be— here, on this journey with you. There’s no place I’d rather be…” He lets go of your right hand, gaze meeting yours as he prepares to slip the ring he held on to onto your pinky. Mischief glints in his expression briefly, before he goes on to say, “And, I, a devoted boyfriend, hope you, a loving girlfriend, feel the same.”
You’re trembling. You know it, he knows. He even squeezes your hand after to help steady and assure you. “You know I feel the same.”
He grins. “Could you say it again?”
He starts to play with the ring on your finger, as though making sure it’s there despite the fact that he slid it on himself. You have to catch his fingers in yours to help yourself think straight, and the patience that flows from him weighs heavier on you.
Because what is he doing?! Everything he’s said feels as though they should be part of vows, not thrown into him fulfilling your whimsical ideas. And just underlines the fact that every moment with him has always felt like a dream. Or like it was written well in advance of meeting in a hospital elevator.
You gasp when you feel his finger brush your cheek, the healed texture of his skin smooth over yours.
“Why are you crying, love?”
“Because what’s happening?”
“I’m making us official. I’m not sure what you’re doing.”
He sounds so much like you that it’s startling for a moment, and you can’t help but laugh. You reach up to settle your hand over his where he’s cradling your face, the ghost of a smile on his lips causing your words to start to free fall.
“I’m glad you didn’t give up after your accident. I’m glad this world shaped me into the person you needed most when we met. I want to keep waking up everyday and deciding that this is worth it.
“And I love the way you make me want more for myself, so that I can be better for you, and for us.” You stroke your thumb across the back of his hand and he brushes away some more tears. “You have no idea how proud I am of you, how relieved I am, honestly, that you allowed this to exist between us…
“Ah, babe. What are you doing to me, right now? I thought we were just going for a ride. And instead I’m on an emotional high because... You even made these rings from a gift neither of us even liked. It’s— yeah. I, a loving girlfriend, feel the same as you, a devoted boyfriend. Thank you for thinking of and prioritizing me.
“If you’re a stray, so am I…which…lucky me, if we are. It means I can stick with you and we can go wherever.” You gently pull his hand away from your face, changing your hold in order to affectionately rub his scarred knuckles to your cheek. “I feel like we’re reciting vows.”
“Please don’t refer to either of us as strays, when the time comes. Some people would never let us hear the end of it.” Kento smiles and pinches your cheek. “And, this is a covenant, love.”
Laughing, you let go of his hand and take his ring off your finger. “Right. With that in mind…” You kiss it, feeling your face go hot when he realizes how focused he is on you. “Kento. I love you. This journey we’re on together —whatever power brought us here— I will always value and prioritize it. You. Us.”
You reach for his unharmed hand and cradle it in yours. “May I?”
“Mm. I need you to.”
“Ha— what?”
He leans closer, forcing eye contact. “I need you to take responsibility for me.”
You swallow, butterflies filling your stomach distractingly. It takes a second, but you slip the ring onto his pinky. “These feelings are much stronger than I expected.”
“Should I tone it down?”
You stroke your thumb over his rings, lingering over the band on his middle finger (the one that represents his promise to get to this point with you…beyond this point, really). “No. I’ll take whatever you give me with grace.”
“Good thing I love you.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back soothingly as your arms circle his waist. He’s warm and solid, perfectly comforting as he holds you as close as possible. The moment feels indulgent, which makes you want more.
“Babe?”
He hums, weighing a little heavier into you as he continues to rub your back.
“I think you should kiss me.”
He chuckles, lingering a few seconds longer before pulling away enough to look at you. Your eyes fall closed as he leans back in, and he surprises you by kissing your forehead. He follows it by brushing the tip of his nose yours ahead of tilting his head to kiss your lips.
“Actually, I really was just taking you on a ride. To watch the sunrise.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you pull away from him and sit down in the sand. “Ok.”
Kento blinks down at you, mouth curling amusedly when you pat the space next to you. As you hug your legs to your chest, you go on to say, “Com’mon. We’ve nearly missed it because you have me out here…covenanting. As though you aren’t already the only one I see.”
He squats down, head tilting to catch your gaze. “What was that?”
Your face is still hot and the butterflies still have ownership of your stomach, and even if you can’t help but melt under his attention, you focus all of yours on him. “Should I s-say it again?”
He surprises you by shaking his head, but you know him well enough to see the playful edge behind his phlegmatism. “I think you should kiss me.”
♋︎ “say you’re mine / say it slow / to be sure we know” —tennis, traveling
꒰ short and sweet slices of life, easy to read and daydream about. fun and light for summer. updates weekly ꒱
“I have a question….” You shift in your seat, leaning a little closer to him. “Do you, uh– do you want to be my boyfriend this summer?”
He blinks at you.
⓿ fall in love again, 419 words
you ask kento to be your boyfriend for the summer
❶ really kiss me, 446 words ⁺ ᵇᵒⁿᵘˢ
you and kento have dinner on the balcony
❷ say it slow , 2626 words
kento gives you a ring
❸ heart leaps
❹ early in july
❺ promise to—
❻ all at once
❼ to love you and be loved
❽ some summer
❾ like a flood
❿ tender hearts
⓫ truth worth confiding
⓬ sublimating
⓭ honey, flowers
⓮ the only road i know
⓯ simplicity
fyi! any images used do not speak the appearance of the reader. she has no major physical characteristics (except for long hair and glasses, neither of which are plot points).
also! this series was supposed to be posted last summer, but…idk what happened. it worked out well tho, because it was inspired by the lyrics above, from the song i’ll haunt you by tennis and they’re currently on their “last tour for a very long time” so i’ve been re-listening to all the albums. attending the show inspired me to pick this back up because their vibe is just…romance is real bc i feel it and here you can too, and i love that for nanami
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
hi i’m weeds. i love short fics, romance, and happy endings. sometimes i write for nanami kento, fushiguro toji, murasakibara atsushi, zaraki kenpachi, and sagamiya konro + misc underwritten characters
⊰ new / next ⊱ say it slow / summerboyf!nanami, sunday updates weekly updates bc actually my life is in a spiral
wc 1803. sex mentioned but not a plot point. kissing. hurt/comfort if you squint but really just a…majestic kind of…admittance of possession.
a/n: kenpachi isn’t human here, but he isn’t really shinigami. it’s a modern world au and he’s otherworldly.
“Oh,” you startle, eyes wide as you spot Kenpachi. “Um. Hi.”
He looks you over in a way that would be offensive if you didn’t know him, but you still shift self consciously under the sheer weight of it. “You’re late.”
“Excuse me?”
His eyes shift from you to the clock in wordless explanation before his gaze returns to you expectantly. It causes you to laugh as you kick your shoes off and hang your bag in the genkan. You aren’t completely surprised by him -he almost always shows up when you’ve had a bad day-, and even as you roll your eyes you can’t help the way seeing him again makes your body tremble in relief. As though his presence alone makes something about life easier for you.
“Grow up, Kenpachi.”
He laughs, getting up from where he’s sprawled on your couch -it’s really too big for your apartment, but it fits him, and somehow that sums up your entire relationship better than anything ever could- and you watch in shameless fascination as he stretches, equally distracted by how massive he is and the fact that he’s dressed casually (you’ve no clue if he even knows who The Punisher is, but his skull is stretched across his chest). It’s the sliver of skin revealed between his shirt and jeans that snaps you out of it, your cheeks hot as you look back at his face to see that you’ve been caught.
How embarrassing. “Why are you here, anyway?”
He follows you into your kitchen, dwarfing the doorway but making you feel more safe than crowded. “You called me.”
You freeze, the switch on your kettle flipping only because you’d started to do it before he’d opened his mouth to suggest such a thing. No- to confirm such a thing. It leaves your palms tingling.
“Cut the shit. You aren’t surprised,” he tells you, rolling his eyes when you finally glance at him. “You called it last time…you weren’t wrong.”
You lean against your counter, folding your arms over your chest as you avoid looking at him. “I, um. I didn’t expect to see you again after that last conversation. I really upset you.”
“You told me to grow up then, too.”
“Did I?”
“You told me to grow the fuck up, actually,” he joins you in the kitchen, reaching over you to grab a teacup and saucer from the cabinet. “And then you went to bed.”
You laugh, rubbing your face tiredly. Despite your being hyper aware of him, you feel a bit like going to bed now. Like if you laid down you’d be able to make a little more sense of him admitting to the power you hold over him.
“So I did.”
“Congratulations.” You watch as he plucks a tea blossom from your collection and settles it in your cup, the sight of such a…man…doing something so delicate causing you to go fuzzy-brained. “What does it feel like?”
“Growing up?” He asks, just barely glancing at you. “It’s itchy. A pain in the ass.”
You realize he’s teasing you. Admitting that you affect him. Change him. It leaves your heart speeding up in your chest but you don’t acknowledge the joke at all because the truth is that you’re a new person entirely since meeting him.
“I meant: how does it feel when I call for you?”
“I’d have to fuck you for you to understand,” he deadpans, causing you to exhale a breath you hadn’t even been holding. It leaves you feeling as though you’ve just run laps. “Differently. You wouldn’t like it…or maybe you would. Sicko.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Why are you really here, hmm? You could have texted me.”
His lip curls in disgust. “Whadju want me to say? That I wanted to see you?”
“If it’s the truth.”
“I needed to see you, woman.” He lifts your kettle from its dock, gaze searching your face. “You’ve…left your mark on me. n’ no one ever has. You call, I come.”
“But, what does it feel like?” You question. “When I see you,” you hesitate a moment, surprised when he goes perfectly still over your words, as though it’s something he has to hear. “It feels similar to being drunk. Just a little, enough to enjoy it. To know you shouldn’t have another even as you order a double shot.
“I bought a couch I have to crawl over to get across my living room so you could be comfortable in my home. A bed that eats every inch of my bedroom…I got a car I knew you’d be able to stretch your legs in. I’ve adjusted and readjusted to fit you, Kenpachi.
“You fill my life and I allow it. I love it. It gives me purpose. I just… want to know if I offer you something meaningful in return.”
“Alive,” he admits, eyes never leaving yours as he pours the water over the tea blossom. “You make me feel like this. Watch. Understand.”
You do as told, watching as it blooms, just barely fitting in the cup as the water stains. He lets it spillover for a moment, head tilting to catch your eye as he sets the kettle back down.
“I fill your life? Give you purpose?” He questions, the rough edges of his voice not even dulled for this. “This…this man” -he says the identifier like it takes a lot out of him, as though he’s never referred to himself in such a way, and you’re reminded that Kenpachi has quite literally shrunken himself to fit into your life. That you only understand a concept of him- or, perhaps, an aspect (it’s an easier thought to wrestle with if you don’t think too hard about it).
The reminder causes you to recall the way your body used to react when he got too close, flight or fight mode activating as he blurred the fringes of your consciousness to make you understand. (And, maybe, to make himself understand, too. Depending on who is what in his tea-demonstration.)
“-only exists ‘cuz you willed it. ‘m like a fuckin’ dog.”
“You can’t compare yourself to blooming tea and a dog.”
“Just did.”
You can’t resist the urge to roll your eyes, but you hesitate when you realize he’s still carefully watching you. Before you can say anything, he pushes the saucer closer to you with the curve of his knuckles, his touch so gentle that it doesn’t even disrupt the surface despite being filled to the brim.
Somehow, it feels like a request as much as it does an offering.
And you think you understand it, then, staring at the cup. With water swollen against the lip and a flower nestled into the bottom, with the safety net of the saucer…you realize that it’s about actualization. For the both of you.
You reach out to him, fingers splaying over the swell of his chest to feel his heartbeat underneath. He surprises you by leaning into your palm, his lashes heavy against his cheeks before his gaze meets yours again.
“A dog, huh?”
He huffs out a laugh, his hand settling flat against yours for a moment before his fingers curl around your wrist.
“I never wanted a dog.”
“Too bad.” He pulls your hand away from his chest and guides it instead up to his face. “I followed you home” -he smirks when a laugh bubbles out of you, his eyes falling closed as he brings your wrist up to his nose and takes a breath of you- “Oh. Is that funny to you?”
“Did you follow me?” You ask, stepping closer to him when you feel his lips against your skin.
“You’re right. You dragged me by the fuckin’ ear-”
“There he is,” you say, sucking in a breath when he nips at the thin skin of your wrist. “That’s my Kenpachi.”
“-fed me. Collared me-”
“That’s extreme.”
“What is love, then?” The question startles you into silence as he returns your hand to his chest. “Would you prefer I say you saddled me? You broke me?
“You call, I come. You ask, I’ll give anything to you. For you, Yn. I don’t know how to explain the feeling to you. You…are, and I am. It is what it is.
“Don’t ask me to explain it in any more words.”
“I won’t,” you agree, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist as you cushion your cheek against his chest. “I’m sorry I’m late. I’ll keep you in mind from now on.”
“Don’t get dramatic, woman.”
You smile, cuddling closer when you feel the heat of his hands hovering at your back. At length, he rests one on your waist as the other settles on your shoulder to return your embrace.
“You make yourself my responsibility and then tell me not to get dramatic?” You ask, pulling away enough to look up at him. He watches you through his lashes, following as you lift a hand to face. As he leans into your touch, you find yourself awed by the way he’s softened under your attention. “What am I in your little demo? And what are you?”
He makes a sound of acknowledgement, something between a grunt and a hum that tapers into a sigh when you stroke your thumb across the soft skin of his cheek. “There’s no difference.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“You are,” you echo his earlier sentiment. “And I am. We’re our…fully realized selves because of it. Right?”
His arms tighten around you before he lifts you to sit on your counter and fills the space between your thighs, his eyes seeking out yours as he braces his hands on the countertop. After a few seconds of his intense gaze (of soul searching, you suppose, because more than just your body feels the weight of it), he leans in and nudges his nose against yours.
“Should I bark?” He questions, his low, deep voice particularly gentle despite the teasing question.
It causes you to grin, your fingers trailing up his torso and over his shoulders. You brush his hair behind his ears before deciding to tease him yourself and allowing your hands to close around his throat. He surprises you by allowing it, his body relaxing on an exhale.
“You’d look pretty in a collar.”
This time, he grins at you, all sharp edges as he says, “Mmm. Give me one.”
You start to laugh, but he swallows it with a kiss that leaves you sighing into his mouth before he pulls away to kiss down your jaw and throat. “‘m serious,” he murmurs. And then, as though you all hadn’t just had a whole conversation, he says, “Welcome home, Yn.”
“Yeah,” you say as you wrap your arms around him to hug him close. You, too, Kenpachi…”
kenpachi from zaraki comes home to claim you. wc1260
n_fw: established relationship; slight somnophilia, fingering (vaginal/anal), jerking off, slight cum play, finger sucking, biting, no condom, cockwarming suggested
“No- Ken-
“It’s not the same… please,” you beg, feeling his thumb…draw out every last twitch and whimper. “…it just takes the edge for you off.”
“Yeah?” He…manhandles you onto your back and keeps you close as he looks down at you.
You can’t help but feel special under his green gaze, loved and adored and valuable with every ounce of emotion he allows you to see. It isn’t much, but it’s there: a smolder where you burn, a tenderness in response to the ache you feel for him. It’s there and it’s all yours. Separate from his bloodlust- something else entirely.
It’s wonderful.
“Am I allowed to take the edge off, too?”
You wake yourself up. Sort of, at least.
It’s Kenpachi’s fingers, long and thick inside you. The ring and middle, you know because you’ve been here many times before, stroking deep as a wet thumb teases your asshole. And you can feel his insane warmth weighted against his spiritual pressure draping over you like another blanket as he noses at the curve of your neck, lips familiar against the back of your shoulder.
But it’s your moan that you hear, your own gasp following as your eyes open to the moonlit darkness of your bedroom. Your body is trembling, every inch of you succumbing to the disturbing and tender bliss of having cum in your sleep. He eases his pace just enough to leave you eager for another- eager to feel him properly.
And he knows it. He chuckles, the sounds resonating through you and leaving you shivering despite his closeness eating all of the nights chill away.
“Ken,” you breath, hips rolling back into this hand in a wordless demand for more.
“Greedy,” he teases, voice nowhere near a whisper. It’s heavy and warm and distinct in its deep timbre. “Fucking my fingers in your sleep-”
Your own voice thick and low with sleep as you say, “Kenny, don’t tease-”
“-waking yourself up and demanding more-”
“-please,” you beg, whimpering as he pushes his thumb into your other hole.
Kenpachi isn’t a gentle man, but he attempts to be with you. So, he fills you slowly, pushing against the tight inner muscle and dragging his finger along the soft skin inside you, unknowingly drawing out the sensation. It hurts in the best of ways, especially as his free arm wraps around your waist and tender but calloused fingers draw under the edge of your kimono.
“You want more, do you?”
Your pussy clenches around his fingers, body tensing when his other hand brushes across the bared skin of your stomach. He chuckles, letting you fit yourself closer and groaning when you brush against his hard on.
“Stop moving.”
He squeezes the fat of your lower tummy before settling on your hip, holding you still as he fucks you. You can feel his smile against the back of your shoulder, his satisfaction rolling off of him in waves as he draws you closer and closer to another orgasm.
“More,” you beg, clutching at the bedding and fantasizing about him taking you properly, splitting you open on cock and fucking you into the futon, into exhaustion. It leaves you whimpering, walls fluttering around him and keening at the sound of amusement he makes. “More please, Kenpachi.”
He tucks his index finger under the middle and ring, fucking into you slow and deep and he drags his thumb nail against the soft, puffy but thin skin separating him from his fingers.
Kenpachi grunts, hand sliding from your hip and squeezing the swell of your ass before ghosting down the back of your thigh teasingly. He grips behind your knee, hiking it up toward your chest as he grunts, “Stay.”
His fingertips drag back down your thigh, slanting inward to find your clit. It’s only then that you realize how swollen, how desperate for his attention you are. He chuckles, big hands and long, thick fingers fucking your thoroughly.
“Did you cum without me, yn?”
You feel yourself trembling, body curling in on itself as pleasure slowly and all too suddenly devours you. “Kenny- haaa- how?”
He smirks against you, spiritual pressure weighing upon you as he draws your orgasm out. “You were wet when I pushed the first finger in-”
You barely hear him over your moans of pleasure, your holes tightening and pulsing around his fingers, hips pushing into each stroke hungrily.
“-and you came too quickly. You even woke yourself up…makes me wonder if I should even give you another.”
Your eyes pop open, thigh clench closed at the threat. But, it doesn’t stop him. He continues to draw you to the edge, closer and closer until you have no choice but to cum.
“No,” you groan when he stops rubbing your clit and pulls his fingers from your pussy almost instantly. “No, no, no. Fuck.”
He chuckles as you cum, his thumb feeling every desperate, greedy pulse as he keeps it buried in your ass. “You do just fine without me, huh?”
“No- Ken-” You grind your hips back, searching for more as his free hand comes up to squeeze blindly at your breasts. “It’s not the same…hnngh, please,” you beg, feeling his thumb rubbing that thin skin inside you, subtly continuing to draw out every last twitch and whimper. “…it just takes the edge for you off.”
“Yeah?” He pulls his thumb from inside you, manhandling you onto your back and keeping you close as he looks down at you.
You can’t help but feel special under his green gaze, loved and adored and valuable with every ounce of emotion he allows you to see. It isn’t much, but it’s there: a smolder where you burn, a tenderness in response to the ache you feel for him. It’s there and it’s all yours. Separate from his bloodlust- something else entirely.
It’s wonderful.
“Am I allowed to take the edge off, too?”
“Aren’t you?” You ask, voice quiet as the night settles between the both of you.
He leans in for a kiss, lips rough and slow against yours. Your lips without prompting, moaning into his mouth when his tongue brushes yours, and he deepens the kiss lazily, supporting himself on one forearm as he unties his pants. You reach down to help, hand wrapping around his throbbing length to pull him free.
“Kenpachi-”
“I’m not going to fuck you,” he tells you, voice low and plain as he kisses your cheek and buries his face in your shoulder.
You whimper your dissent, grinding your hips up into his as he settles between your thighs, but he just covers your hand with his, jerking himself off between your bodies. The head of his cock rubs against your belly, pre-cum spreading across your skin, and each touch leaves you both moaning in pleasure.
“Are you going to cum all over my tummy?” You ask, arms drawing around his shoulders. “Mark me with your seed and make me wear it all night?”
He grunts, mouth opening to sink his teeth into your collar, and he throbs at your whimper, fucking into each stroke of your hands.
“Please. I want it, Captain-”
“Fuck.”
The swear leaves you shivering. Leaving your empty, fucked out pussy clenching around nothing. And you clutch him tighter, kissing anywhere you can reach as you attempt to pull him into you to feel his real weight against your body.
“I want you to cum all over me.”
“In,” he grunts, body shifting as he tenses. And all at once all of you belongs to him: he’s pushing his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to gag as he bites you harder. You cry out, muffled with his fingers heavy against your tongue, your own fingers digging into his shoulders. But, your world goes black as he pushes the head of his cock into your cunt, filling you with his cum and fucking it into you a few times.
“Kenny-”
“You know we don’t waste, yn,” he reminds you, his moan dragging out into a growl as your legs wrap around his waist in effort to keep his cock buried inside you. “Take every fucking drop-”
