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-”
soft slice of life. 1190wc. post-sex/aftercare; forced orgasms mentioned - thank you @notsissannis for your help!
The first thing you feel is Kenpachi- his fingers brush your brow line and down your cheek affectionately, warm and calloused against your soft skin. The next is the ache between your thighs, simultaneously ever present and distant in its throbbing. But, before you can make even a noise of complaint, your boyfriend is swiping his thumb against the swell of your bottom, his breath fanning over your face before his lips brush the curve of your cheek.
“Hey,” he says, his deep voice careful. “You with me again?”
You realize you’re trembling, the ache between your thighs caused in part by your walls squeezing desperately against themselves, and an unexpected panic sweeps over you. Your eyes seek out his as you come to realize the last thing you can remember is a pleasure like no other, your entire body spasming in an unbelievable mixture of pure bliss and blinding pain- overstimulation like you’ve never felt it; like he’s never forced it- before sheer nothingness.
“You’re ok,” he murmurs. “We’re at your house. In your living room.”
“Di-did I safe word?”
“No,” he continues to touch you, large hands all over your face and body in an effort to soothe you. “I stopped the scene. You were too far gone.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m sorry,” he counters, the words funny on his lips. “I should have realized you couldn’t take anymore.”
You close your eyes, reaching out to grasp one of his hands and setting it on your cheek. “I was fine. Really fine,” you smile weakly. “Yeah- until…”
He makes a sound of agreement that you recognize as him not wanting to talk anymore about it as he strokes the soft skin under your eye. “You’re clean…I changed your sheets…wanna stay out here?”
You peek an eye at him. “I wanna go to your house.”
“Maybe later,” he says as he stands up, smirking slightly when you clutch at his hand.
“Don’t go.”
“Where am I going, huh?” He asks, offering you a can of water before easily scooping you up to take your spot on the couch.
You snuggle into his chest, hugging the water to you and sighing at the feel of his warmth as it seeps into you. “I’m ready to talk about it. If you are.”
His lips brush your temple, the gentle affection relaxing. “Check in.”
“I don’t like forced orgasms” -he hums, low in his chest as he strokes your shoulder- “Not that much, at least. And I kinda hurt,” you laugh, pushing your hand between your thighs to cup yourself. “Feel empty, too.”
“Trouble maker.”
You grin into his chest. “It was ok, you know? Something in my mind just- I reached my limit, I guess. Suddenly…
“Thank you for taking care of me.”
He shifts under you, hand sliding up your back. His fingers slip into the hair at your nape, rubbing against your scalp and drawing a contented sigh from you. “You’re mine to take care of.”
Laughing, you pull away from him enough to pop the lid and sip your water, enjoying the flat, bubbly mountain water as he says, “Five is your limit. With the hitachi.”
“I thought we passed that.”
He smirks, reaching to swipe a bit of spillover from your chin as you continue to drink from the can. “You didn’t make much sense after.”
Your nose wrinkles and he chuckles, rubbing your back as he says, “So greedy, yn…I didn’t say we would stop. We can continue without it. Depending.”
“On what?”
His hand creeps back up to the back of your neck, pulling you in before kissing you. It’s chaste, just a couple brushes of his lips against yours, but it causes your thoughts to go a bit haywire with love and desire. “If you can say more than my name.”
“Ha,” you take another sip, attempting to quiet your mind before offering him some. He amuses you with a small sip before setting the can on the floor. “Wanna know what I think doesn’t make sense?”
“What?”
“I’m sitting on your lap and yet I’m still empty. Even after I already said it,” you pout, purposefully dramatic even as amusement dances in your eyes.
He huffs out a laugh before once again shifting around beneath you, this time turning to lay on his side as you get comfortable on your back, and you’re suddenly grateful you upgraded your couch because there’s something special about lying here with him. Especially as he curls the arm you’re laying on, long fingers brushing your forehead before smoothing over your hair.
“You’re still shaking.”
“I just need a little stabilizing.”
He rests his free hand on your stomach, the action akin to a tranquilizer as you feel your fuzzy mind and senses dull. “Oh,” you sigh, eyes closing in relief.
“Give it a little longer, baby.”
You hum your consent, eyes opening to gaze curiously at him. “Are you going to check in with me?”
He stares at you, eyes hard as he considers his words. “Thank you for trusting me.”
You feel your face heat up. “I really fucked you up, huh?”
The pressure of his hand changes, fingertips digging gently against your skin. “Yes.”
You nod, tilting your head to kiss along his jaw. “But, I’m ok.”
“You woke up afraid.”
“A little. New experience. I’m sorry I scared you.”
He frowns and you’ve known him long enough to know that he wouldn’t have used the word scared, but you don’t take it back and he doesn’t ask you to.
You use his silence, stealing a moment to tuck yourself closer to him, your hands reaching to tug at his leg in an effort to get him to throw it over yours. He folds easily, and it’s only as his heartbeat slows that you realize it’d been pounding nervously. It reminds you that he’s just as much yours to take care of. Even more so, sometimes.
“Take a nap with me,” he grumbles. “We’ll grab something to eat and go to mine later.”
You’re quiet long enough for him to assume you’ve fallen asleep, and it's only as the crease in his brow relaxes that you reach up to cradle his jaw, thumb stroking along his cheek familiarly.
He says your name, not so much a warning as it is a statement. An acknowledgment. You ghost his scar, an incredible satisfaction thrumming through you over the fact that he doesn’t stiffen under your touch.
“Kenpachi,” you say, voice soft in the quiet of your apartment.
He cracks an eye at you, gaze sleepy and green.
“I love you” -he squeezes your hip in response- “I love you. I’d never do any of this with anyone else…I trust all of me with you.
“Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t,” he sighs.
“Promise me.”
The barest of smiles forms on his lips before they stretch into a full one, the sight surprising as you etch it into your brain forever.
“My love,” he starts, voice gruff and sincere as he angles to kiss you, his tongue stroking against the swell of your bottom lip without deepening the kiss. “I promise.”
