Ushijima X Reader. Some Angst, Mostly Fluff, Suggestive Content. Timeskip Spoilers. Plot: Your Long-time

ushijima x reader. some angst, mostly fluff, suggestive content. timeskip spoilers. plot: your long-time coworker turned friend, Kuroo, sets you up on a date with one of his finest clienteles.

To stay unattached is to keep a distance.

Ushijima Wakatoshi knows this well enough. He had gotten accustomed to it at an early age, when his parents divorced. It was pretty clear that his mom hardly wanted anything to do with him, and neither did her family.

His intention is to keep this maxim walking into the date. Though, it doesn’t deter him from being the gentleman he is, even when you show up 15 minutes late.

Your first impression of Wakatoshi is that he is a man of few words. You aren’t put off by it, however, you prefer a man that knows his points, speaks it, and waits for a response in deliberate silence. It’s endearing in its own way.

It’s endearing now, when you can’t help but find yourself staring at him. His dress shirt and pants—Armani— are tailored to fit him perfectly. You saw when he stood up to greet you, even pulling your chair out for you (swoon.) His jawline is sharp, eyes stoic, and his shoulders are so broad—

He’s turned to you with expecting eyes.

“Oh- sorry, what did you say?”

Wakatoshi clears his throat and straightens in his seat. “I said because I’ll be in Europe soon, I’m not looking for anything serious right now.”

Oh. Okay… you can work with that. You usually don’t do one-night-stands, but the longer you look at him, the more amorous you’re getting.

“I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”

You perk up, realizing you haven’t given a reply. “Not at all! I’m not really interested in that either.”

A lie. You fear you are quite the hopeless romantic at heart.

As you resume to your dish, he takes a moment to watch you.

Wakatoshi might not be too well versed in pop-culture, but he has picked up a few magazines in his free time and reads enough ads to know that you’re quite the public figure yourself. Quite the vivacious one at that— according to some headlines.

He isn’t too sure of what your job is, just knows that you’ve worked alongside Kuroo for a while and recently ventured into the fashion world. Your confidence in style illuminates under the dim lamps of the restaurant: classic, chic, timeless. He hadn’t missed the wandering eyes when you walked through the door.

When Kuroo had called him during his off-season trip back to Japan, Wakatoshi had initially declined, not wanting to start something he wasn’t sure if he could finish. But, Kuroo had insisted, saying that you thought “his eyes are pretty” and wanted to see for yourself if they were olive or brown. Safe to say, he was intrigued and figured he’d quell your thirst for knowledge.

When dinner concludes after some small, but interesting talks, Wakatoshi insists he pay for the bill, and before you can deny, his card is already given to the waitress without even looking at the check.

“Thank you for dinner, Wakatoshi. It was delicious.”

“Of course.” He says as he holds the door open for you. You both walk to the marble water fountain placed in front of the parking lot. “Have you decided what color my eyes are?”

You freeze.

(“They’re definitely brown.” Kuroo assured.

“We’ll see. You didnt tell him I said anything about his eyes though did you ?”

“Not at all!” Kuroo gave his salesman smile to your glare. His two thumbs up acting as a shield from your valid accusation.

He did.)

You make a mental note to leave a scathing voicemail later.

“Oh!” You laugh, bashful, a hand coming up to rub your neck. “That….”

It appears Wakatoshi is still waiting for an definitive answer. You suppose he’s the not the type of man to tease, but still comes off just as humorous through his bluntness. It’s lovely, you think, you prefer to be the one teasing anyway. You step closer, leaning in close enough for him to feel the surface of fabric on your evening wear against his own. The string lights around the restaurant have given you both a warm, golden hue. It’s brighter out here.

“…Right now, they look olive. In the restaurant, they looked a dark brown.” Your voice is quieter now, but you’re still looking at him with that inquisitive gaze of yours. And he can’t help but study back. He scans your face and absentmindedly thinks those magazines don’t do you justice. He watches as your lips curve upwards into a small smile. “I guess it depends on the lighting, but my verdict is olive.”

Neither of you have moved, still inches apart. It feels… intimate. “What color do you say they are?”

Wakatoshi never thought about it, never really cared, but right now, he just wants to agree with you. “Olive.”

He watches as your smile grows, feeling his heart beat at a quicker pace. “Ah, I love being right.” There’s a moment of silence until you take a step back and extend your hand, “Well. Goodnight, Wakatoshi.”

Wakatoshi gives a nod, breaking out of his short-lived trance. He takes your hand, thinks your skin is some sort of magnet the way he can’t bring himself to pull away.

And before he can think clearly and go through with his plan of saying goodbye and leaving it at that to go your separate ways, he leans in closer, gently tugging you in with his hand still in yours.

You don’t move a way, instead you purse your lips as you look to his and back up at his olive eyes.

His voice is just above a whisper.

“May I… kiss you?”

He’s not sure who kisses who first after he asks. He just knows that for the following weeks, Wakatoshi sees you more than he should be. He becomes accustomed to your presence in his apartment, your smell on his bed, and the way you call him ‘toshi against his lips.

The weekend before his flight(weekends of which you usually spend the night) you don’t come over. He doesn’t play dumb at the fact that he had been the one to say it wasn’t serious in the first place. You seemed to take that to heart. He remembers the sadness in your eyes the last time you were in his home, telling him you weren’t good at goodbyes. Did you think he was?

Wakatoshi spent that weekend mulling the last few weeks over, missing you. He mentally scolds himself for letting it go this far, but how was he supposed to know his heart would cave at your simplest touch?

This kind of issue can only be resolved by talking to one person: a best friend.

And Tendou Satori rarely misses a phone call from his.

“I suppose me leaving is for the best.” Wakatoshi had rationalized, the afternoon before his flight, filling Tendou in about the heartache that is you.

“Maybe.”

“The more distance the better.”

“Ah, but Wakatoshi-kun, doesn’t distance make the heart grow fonder?”

His flight landed in Poland around noon. Many hours on the plane, Wakatoshi decides he isn’t good at goodbyes either. He calls you when he reaches his hotel.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” His voice is caught on the air, surprised you’d picked up so quickly. “I just landed. I…I—“

To be unattached is to keep a distance. But, even thousands of miles away from you, Wakatoshi is bound, tied true to the anchor that is your voice and the mirage of your face when he hears it.

“I miss you too.”

He wants to laugh because really, it’s only been three days since you’ve seen each other. Have you both grown lovesick?

“Can I see you when I get back?”

“Wakatoshi, that’s weeks— months away.” You laugh. He smiles upon hearing it. Yeah, lovesick. “Who knows what will happen by then?”

His smile is replaced by a confused frown. “What will happen?” Before you can answer, he has spoken again. “Nothing will change. For me, at least.”

You hum. A beat of silence. “‘Toshi?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be thinking about you until then.”

Wakatoshi thinks he might just fly you out and attach you to him forever.

…

(On a random weekday, Kuroo receives a box of Parisian chocolates and a typed out ‘Thank You’ card on his desk. The card flips to show a man with red hair and red eyes.)

a/n: ty for reading! long distance sucks, but this couple will make it thru :’)

Word count: 2600+

Warnings: swearing, otherwise mostly fluff

Part XXVI | Part XXVIII

Next few days it rained just as Tamlin had predicted. Thanks to him you had enough food, the only problem was the fast running out herbs. Not wanting to go out, it was a great chance to practice your magic abilities. High Lord always sat down with you, watching over you. Whenever you had trouble, he offered advice. It wasn't easy after so many years of not using your powers, but it was fun and the two of you laughed a lot when things didn't turn the way you wanted them.

Except of that there was nothing much to do. You couldn't go out and moreover as a result of your reckless run in the rain you caught a cold, so looking out the window and wishing the downpour finally stopped was all you were allowed to do.

Tamlin banned you from the kitchen, making you sit whole day in front of the hearth while he took care of everything. Including you. He wouldn't even let you go up the stairs on your own. You suspected that if he wanted he could cure you with a single snap of fingers, but for some reason he didn't want to. But you couldn't complain at all.

It was pleasant to have somebody to care for you, especially when they did it with such love. Every refilling of your mug was accompanied by kiss on crown of your head and kind smile. Every fixing of the blanket or handing you a book, got you a soft, sweet kiss on cheek and gentle caress. No need to say that you actually spent more time sitting on his lap than on your own. Your chest swelled every time Tamlin slipped into your armchair, pulling you to his strong body.

Bad weather also gave you a lot of time to talk, to really talk about things that bothered you. You patiently listened to his life story, about his family, years in father's army and everything that hurt him while Amarantha pushed him to sacrifice his friends, made him watch the death of so many innocent lives right before his eyes and then just for fun tortured girl he liked and even killed her. He told you about what happened after Amarantha died, all the nightmares that haunted him for months, the echo of the crack of neck that followed him every second of every day. He intentionally skipped the part about your brother being an ass, but you already heard about it from Feyre.

You knew he didn't want you to pity him and you tried not to, but it was hard. You reassured him that he did all he could to protect his Court and held him when you were short for words.

When it was your turn to share pieces of you, well, you didn't have much to say. Your family wasn't perfect, but it wasn't as bad as Tamlin's. Your mother, cousin, brother and his friends made sure you had a quite happy childhood and the only really bad, traumatic thing that happened to you, was the night you lost your mother and your memories.

"Tamlin, I want to thank you," you whispered into the crook of his neck when your tears finally dried. He was gently rocking you while drawing circles on your back with his warm hand. "If it wasn't for you, I would be dead."

He shook his head dismissively. His body was tense as you shared what you saw that night, his jaw still clenched, tips of his claws slightly jabbing the skin of your hip where he held you. You couldn't see his face from this angle, but you could imagine his frown, cold emerald eyes full of hate and rage gazing into the dancing flames. He looked like that when he told you about his father and brothers. All those years when he tried not to get in their way, keeping it low to survive, left a lot of hatred and anger in him. "I could do more. I-"

"You did enough," you stopped him. "I'm alive just because you were there. You aren't responsible for whatever happened to me afterwards."

He looked down at you in disbelieve. "I knew they had somebody in dungeons. I should have done something, help you escape."

He leaned to the side, putting as much distance as possible in between you which wasn't much in your current position. His hands fell to armrests, claws fully slid out. "It doesn't matter what they would have done to me."

"I thought that we already talked about this, but never mind," you spoke calmly with a soft sigh. "Let's say you went down there and helped me get out. What would have happened to you after that? They would have punished you or even worse."

"It matters..a lot.. To me, it matters.."

He watched you out of the corner of his eye and then sighing pulled you into another hug. He looked defeated.

"We can't change the past, Tamlin. But I'm glad you didn't go down there to find out what your father was up to. If you did, I might have never met you again. And we wouldn't be here now, holding each other."

At that moment air crackled with static energy and Rhysand winnowed in.

"Horrible weather," he grunted, shaking drops of rain from his cloak. Last few days he was too busy and only sent you messages. You didn't expect him to appear anytime soon.

Rhys looked around, his gaze fell to you watching him with wide eyes from Tamlin's lap. He froze in shock, his face colour changing from warm tanned to white and then to red.

"Hands off of my sister," he hissed. "Just a few days! I don't show up for few fucking days and you already dare to touch her? Like this?"

Tamlin sighed looking away and without a word began to gently push you from his lap so he could stand up. You knew he couldn't stand your brother's visits and rather disappeared on the second floor, but you needed to put a stop to this stupid situation. You clung to him, holding him in place. He raised a brow at you, but you only smiled at him.

"You didn't knock," you said in sweet voice to Rhysand whose eyes were jumping between you and High Lord of Spring.

"What?" He sputtered angrily.

"Do you remember when we talked about finding happiness?" You were calm as you looked up at him. His talons scratched the walls around your mind and you let him in.

What does this mean, sweetheart? I'd love you to stand up. Now.

Rhys, I'm happy.

You could feel flush spreading on your cheeks. Talking about this kind of feelings was something you'd never done with your brother nor he mentioned his lovers to you in the past. It was probably the only border you two kept intact.

What?! With him? You can't be serious. If you want a High Lord we can try to figure something out. But you.. and him.. Rhys' voice in your head was almost pleading.

I don't want a High Lord. I don't care about such things at all and you know that very well. I-.. I have feelings for him, Rhys. Do you.. understand? He might be my happy ending.

Admitting this much, you were too shy to even look your brother in eyes.

Meanwhile Tamlin stayed still, watching you with concern. Hands that he respectively put on armrests in presence of your brother, inched closer.

"Everything okay?" he murmured, so only you heard him. You nodded.

Rhysand left your mind and silently considered something. Hands at his sides curled into fists, his knuckles white.

"Can I have a word with you?" he asked Tamlin after a while. He frowned at him, but nodded. This time you let him stand up, watching as the two stepped out into the rain. You couldn't help it and sneaked closer to the front door. Through window you could see Rhysand pacing in the rain back and forth, fingers running through his already damp hair. Tamlin stood on doorstep, arms crossed on his chest, his back to you.

Rhysand stopped pacing and turned to him. "Do you like her?"

Tamlin nodded.

"C'mon," Rhys grunted, rolling his eyes. "I mean, do you really like her? No games, no.. getting back on me or something like that..?"

He again only nodded, no words. Rhysand stared him down, gritting his teeth.

"I love her, Rhysand," Tamlin finally spoke so lowly you almost didn't hear him over the sound of rain. "She is my everything."

Your heart swelled. He said that he loved you. Aloud. You talked a lot these last few days, but except of the 'I like you' he told you before, he hadn't expressed his feelings so directly. It was all just small lovely gestures here, soft kisses everywhere except of your lips there. Hearing him to express his feelings so openly brought tears to your eyes.

"I really hope you mean it," Rhysand snarled threateningly. "If you ever even try to think about hurting her-"

"I know. You'll find a way to revenge. I already heard that once before."

In a blink of eye Rhys stood in front of Tamlin, fisting the front of his shirt. His violet-blue eyes shone dangerously. "I'm not joking. Your kin already took me whole my family. She is the only one left. I won't silently watch her being used, hurt and thrown away by any male."

"I will never do any of that," Tamlin hissed in answer, his chest vibrating with growl, but otherwise he hadn't moved an inch, glaring down on your brother. He was just a few centimetres taller than him, but his frame was much sturdier, especially his upper body.

"Good," Rhys released his shirt still glaring at him and stepped back. "You better remember that."

Then he looked straight at you. See you next time, sweetheart. If anything, send me a message. You know how.

"Take very, very good care of her, Tam. She is the most precious person in the world." And with that he was gone.

Tamlin shook his head and grunting something under his breath he opened the door. As soon as he was inside, you rushed to him and squeezed him in firm embrace. Without thinking you stood up on your tiptoes and your lips landed on his. He went rigid, eyes widening.

You realized what you'd done and in shame started to pull away. Tamlin's hand clasped the back of your head and holding you in place his lips parted slightly and brushed over yours. So slowly, he claimed them in tender kiss, not rushing anywhere. Heart thundering in your chest, you kissed him back.

After a minute or two when your lungs burned with lack of oxygen, he broke the kiss and looked down at you, all flushed with glazed eyes. His fingertips brushed away an unruly strand of hair from your face, sliding down to your jaw.

He moved so fast you didn't see it. His next kiss was nothing like the first one. It was wild and hot and needy, war of lips, teeth and tongues. He kissed you like a starving man, devouring and exploring every inch of your mouth, sucking out all air from you.

One of his hands travelled down your body to your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh. You moaned into his mouth drawing a growl from him. Your back arched, chest brushing against the chest. There was no time to take a gulp of air and you were starting to feel light-headed.

Before you could pass out he pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours, eyes closed. Both of you were heaving heavily, lips swollen.

"Gods," you whispered and he laughed, his breath fanning your face. You were drunk on his scent, now suffocatingly stronger.

"You taste like strawberries." He pecked your cheek, lips trailing to your jaw and down the column of your neck to the shoulder. He didn't miss even that sensitive spot under your ear. You bit on your lower lip, holding back another moan.

"Say it again," you pleaded breathlessly.

"What? About the strawberries?" he smile into your skin.

"No. What you told to Rhys."

"Aah, you mean that part that I won't hurt you."

"No, not that."

"Then what?" He was teasing you while his lips and hands explored your body.

"You are such a tease. The other thing you told him."

"Hmm," he pretended to think about it, his mouth slowly returning back to the spot under your ear. He licked the sensitive skin and lightly nipped at it. The moan escaped you before you could stop it. "You mean the 'love you' part?"

You hummed in agreement, unable to think straight with his soft lips playing with your earlobe while whispering words in hoarse deep voice that made your toes curl.

Tamlin stopped teasing you and scanning your face with interest, he waited until you opened your eyes and focused. He caressed your cheek with feather-light touch, fingers barely touching you. The other arm held you firmly to his body. You could feel every shift of his muscles. Bright emerald eyes found yours.

"I love you, Y/N," he said little nervously. "From bottom of my heart, I love you."

Your heart skipped few beats and you closed your eyes again. It wasn't the first time somebody confessed to you, but this was so different. It felt so right as if you were born only for this, waiting for him your entire life.

You ran your fingers along his shoulder blades, ends of his golden hair tickling your knuckles. You inhaled deeply and found his gaze.

"I love you, Tamlin," you breathed out.

"Thank the Mother," his tense shoulders relaxed a little, "I already thought you won't say it."

You huffed amused. He leaned down and gave you a peck, licked his bottom lip and gave you another and another and soon you were kissing again. His chest vibrated with growl.

"I dreamt about this so many times, but it's actually much better than I imagined."

"You dreamt about this?" You quirked a brow, nuzzling to his neck.

Muscle in his jaw flexed. "I did. Every night when I couldn't sleep, I tried to imagine holding you like this and kissing you."

You giggled. "Liar. You made it up now."

He laughed, the sound echoing in that broad chest of his. You snuggled to him even closer, enjoying the beautiful sound. "No, I didn't."

You blushed so fiercely you were glad he couldn't see your face.

"Shouldn't we make some dinner?" you asked after a while.

"No," his hands nestled on your waist. "You should go sit down and wrap up into blanket while I prepare something to eat."

He started to gently push you back towards your armchair.

"Nooo," you pleaded. "I sat all day long. I want to do something too."

"Fine," he cooed adding a log to fire. He snapped fingers and a tome fell into your lap. You immediately read its title, your fingers already prickling with curiosity. "Will you read to me while I cook then?"

"Seriously?" You pouted. He just nodded, chuckling. He knew you loved reading and used your weakness against you, knowing you wouldn't be able to resist. You opened the book on the first page, eager to find out what kind of story Tamlin chose and started reading it aloud.

You only stopped to eat and then Tamlin took the book and read to you until you fell asleep on his lap. Marking your progress he put the book aside. Carefully he picked you up and carried you to the bed. Throwing the blanket over you, he snuggled up to you, kissed your forehead and smiling fell asleep.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania @talesofadragon @ceoofyearning @little-nightowl

Not Again- Part Four

Summary: With the discovery of a special book, Y/n is one step closer to home. The inner court learns even more about her family back home. And Azriel needs a babysitter of his own

Series Masterlist

-Part Four-

Amren found them in the kitchen, food had been waiting for them on the counter before they’d even arrived, the house it seemed was sick of her not eating as well. She’d simply laughed at the nagging presence and started filling her plate. Azriel had entered moments later, a small scowl on his lips from being left in her dust. He’d huffed and quietly filled his plate, he wasn’t kidding when he said flying worked up his appetite.

“I have use of your stray, boy. Go find somewhere else to be.”

Azriel gives the small female an unimpressed look, “nice to see you too, Amren.”

Y/n pushes her half eaten plate away, waving off the wisps of shadows that angrily dance around her at the action, “Did you find something?”

“I had that insufferable songbird pull any books she could find with your Wyrd marks,” Amren says, snapping her fingers.

A pile of books fall onto the counter, old withered pages that look like they hadn’t been opened in many many years. A plume of dust flies off them and Y/n wisks it away with a small breeze.

“Can you read them?” Azriel asks, eyeing the pages one book that’d fallen open.

“I thought I told you to find somewhere else to be?” Amren snaps, though there’s no threat behind it.

“My babysitter here is vigilant in his task,” Y/n sighs ignoring the withering look Azriel gives her, she takes one of the books into her hands and flips through some of the pages, “My mother taught me what she knew of the marks. Protection, locking, unlocking, many things like that, but we never covered gates, it simply wasn’t possible, and she didn’t want me testing fate.”

“Well to bad, it would’ve been useful to know that now,” Amren sighs, picking a book out of the stack, shoving it towards her, “Gwyn said this one practically jumped off the shelf at her.”

Y/n eyes the title and almost drops the book in shock. Azriel takes a casual step closer to peer over her shoulder at the book, a shadow finds her arm and gently wraps around it, a comforting touch.

“You know it?” Amren asks, giving that wisp of shadow a curious look, “I couldn’t read it, what is it called?”

“The Walking Dead,” Y/n answers breathlessly, “in my native language.”

Azriel couldn’t read the book, but he still looks over her shoulder periodically as she flips through each page. She’d been at it for hours, taking notes on the scraps of paper littered over the dining room table. Amren had taken the remaining books to look over, most had been fae scholars from this world musing over the marks, nothing quite as useful as the book in Y/n’s hands it would seem. Amren would also look over the Book of Breathings, see if anything jumped out at her.

Y/n had barely spoken to him the whole time, quietly mumbling to herself once in a while as she wrote. Azriel noticed that her notes switched between his language and her own in sporadic patterns, sentences switching back and forth, one word in one language then the next in the other. Swirling letters that connected in long strokes of her pen. The words were close together, she hardly lifted the pen as she finished one to write the next, like her brain was moving faster than her hand could keep up.

She was so focused that she didn’t notice Azriel slip out the door, didn’t notice when Rhys had appeared and waved him towards the hall.

“How’s research going?” The High Lord asks, “Amren has yet to find anything useful.”

Azriel turns an eye through the door, at the female still engrossed in that book, “nothing yet, though it seems Y/n may put Amren to shame in relentless focus. I don’t think she’s looked away from that book for more than the few seconds it takes to write something down.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Amren she has the competition,” Rhys chuckles, “I hear you two went for a flight today. All over Velaris people are talking about the almighty Shadowsinger chasing after a bird all afternoon.”

He gives Azriel a shit eating grin and Az scowls back at him, “she was determined to leave her babysitter in the dust.”

His scowl deepens when Rhys just laughs, “what? Don’t like chasing after pretty females?”

“I’m sure his ego is just bruised cause he can’t keep up,” Y/n’s voice calls out from the room behind them, “Big strong males tend to dislike being shown up by us pretty females.”

Azriel glares over his shoulder at the female who hadn’t even looked up from her notes, “I can keep up just fine.”

“Sure you can,” she laughs, turning a page, “I won’t hold back next time if that’s what you wish.”

His shadows laugh in his ears and he turns his glare on them. Rhys next to him grins as he walks into the room, eyes taking in the mess of papers full of Y/n’s half put together thoughts. She finally looks up then, acknowledging the male with a small nod of her head.

Her eyes are tinged red, like she hadn’t even blinked in the time she’d been sitting there. She glances at him, grinning at the scowl still on his lips. He glares harder, shoving his shadows down as they continue to laugh at him.

Rhys looks between them, “found anything useful?”

It breaks their stare and her smile falls. Azriel gets the strangest sense that he wants it back.

“Yes and no,” she sighs, “I recognize a lot of it, this was the book my mother learned a lot of what she knows of the Wyrd marks. She used it to open a gate to the place souls rest once to talk to… a friend. I’m sure it’s in here somewhere, I just need to keep looking.”

He notes the pause, the shift of her tone, whoever Aelin had tired to talk to, it was a sore subject. Take a break, she’s sad again, sad, she needs to rest, working for hours, hours, break. Azriel is half tempted to hiss at the nosey little shadows. They’d been at it for the last hour, as soon as the sun started to dip below the horizon, it’s like they switched into nanny mode. He wasn’t sure why they were so concerned anyway, she was more than capable of taking care of her damn self.

“The gates are the tricky ones,” she continues, grabbing pages of notes, “I’m close to figuring it out, I could probably open a gate, but to get to the right place is the hard part is opening one to the right place. I could just as easily walk right into a hell realm as I could into my own. And as fun as that seems, I’d rather not test my luck.”

“How many realms are out there?” Azriel asks.

“Who knows,” she shrugs, “my mother remembers falling through many, she couldn’t even describe most of them because of how fast she was falling. Give me a day and I think I could figure this out-“

“You’ve been at it for hours,” Rhys cuts in, “surely you could take a break. Maybe join us for dinner? We’ve all stewed up more questions for you, Cassian has a list.”

Yes, yes, yes, dinner, she didn’t eat enough, yes. Mother above, he wished he could get the shadows to shut up.

Y/n hesitantly glances at the papers surrounding her on the dining room table, “I seem to have commandeered the space. I’d hate for it to get stained.”

Azriel could tell that what she really wanted to say was, I need to keep working so I can get home. It was written in the longing glances at the book, in the way she flew towards the horizon like home was on the other side, the way she looked at the sky expectantly, searching for something he couldn’t quite figure out.

“We’ll eat at my home,” Rhys shrugs, “your research will be here, exactly where you left it when you return.”

She looks ready to argue, to deny, to beg to stay, but instead she sighs, “Is dinner a casual affair, or does your lot like to preen?”

Rhys laughs, “It’s whatever you like, preen as much as you wish.”

She hums, “My babysitter and I will be there shortly then.”

Mother, give him strength. She pushes to her feet, giving him that saccharine smile as she walks past him towards her room. Her scent lingers as she leaves, that hint of embers stronger than usual. He can’t help the subtle intake of air, nor the shadow that grazes her wrist like it would wrap around and make her stay.

She’s barely out the door before Rhys is clapping him on the shoulder with a quiet chuckle, “do you need a babysitter? I’m sure Cassian would like to return the favor.”

Azriel snarls at him, “We’ll see you at the house brother.”

Rhys just laughs again, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he moves towards the door, “take your time. I wouldn’t blame you for being a little late.”

“Get out.”

Azriel waits for her in the living room, she’d still been in her room when he’d gotten dressed, which wasn’t surprising since it only took him a few minutes to change into a slightly nicer shirt, he didn’t bother with the preening, Rhys did that enough for all of them.

Heel clicks on the floor alert him to her approach, she turns the corner into the room and Azriel couldn’t stop the way his body goes absolutely still.

He thought night court black suited her but he was wrong, she looked good in it but it didn’t compare to the way she looked in this dress. Deep green of a forest, the silk fabric flows with her body like water, showcasing each of those curves like currents, with accents of silver thread and shining jewels that glow in the light like the stars above. She’d lined her eyes with kohl, giving them that sultry look that could drive a male wild. And her lips, Mother help him, her lips were painted a deep wine red, so dark it could’ve been black.

Gorgeous, she was absolutely gorgeous. He’d known she was pretty, he wasn’t blind, he’d noticed when he’d found her laying in the moonlight, even covered in blood she was beautiful, but it didn’t strike him till now exactly how attractive she was.

“You like what you see shadowsinger?” Her grin is feline and lethal, voice dripping with honey, “I told you I was your type.”

He doesn’t respond, simply continues to look her over. There’s a fire in her eyes that has his shadows whirling around him and when her head angles in that predator way, he’s almost willing to be the prey.

House wasn’t a good discriptor of the giant building that sits before her. Manor maybe, but Azriel had called it the River House. Rhys and Feyre’s personal residence that Feyre had apparently designed herself. The garden in the back had been where she’d fallen into this world, she’d been to frantic to really appreciate her surroundings. It was absolutely beautiful.

Azriel led her through the front door and the interior was just as magnificent as the outside, intricate and elegant, yet it still felt warm and lived in. A multitude of paintings lined the walls as they walked to the dining room. From their conversation earlier, she assumed they were done by Feyre herself. The High Lady had mentioned her art studio, she had a class this afternoon that she would be teaching. Y/n had leaned towards musical arts, but she always loved going to galleries with her aunt Lysandra. According to Rhys, there was a section of Velaris called the rainbow, the artist quarter of the city. She assumed she’d flown through it today with Azriel, the place had been alive, filled with music that she couldn’t help but be drawn to.

As they moved down the hall she could hear the sounds of the Inner Court, as they called themselves, growing closer and closer. Their laughter reminded her of home, of dinners with the cadre and her uncles visiting from Adarlan, or even Nesryn and Sartaq all the way from the southern continent. They were never quiet affairs, always full of laughter and teasing, usually from Fenrys and Dorian on the later.

The last dinner like that had been little over a month ago. She’d dressed up in a gown this exact color. Her aunt Elide had helped her do her makeup, she’d practically had to hold her down in her chair so she could finish, to excited to sit still. It was her favorite nights of the year, these dinners, seeing her family come together all in one place. Sometimes they’d even convince Manon to join them, never aunt Manon, though she’d gotten away with that once when she was a child. It was always magical seeing her and Dorian dance around each other as if they weren’t desperate for the other.

She would sit there and watch her family, watch the way everyone loved each other. How her parents would stare into each others eyes and grin like someone had told a joke. How her uncle Aedion would dance with her aunt Lysandra to music only the two of them could hear. How uncle Chaol and aunt Yrene would bicker together with smiles still on their lips, to the utter annoyance of her cousin, Josefin. She watched them all, and hoped one day she would have someone who would love her just as fiercely

“Where’d you go, princess?”

Her mind drifts back from that far away place across the stars, finding Azriel’s gaze on her. Stoic as always, but she could see the bit of concern behind those whiskey eyes. It warms something in her, just barely, just enough for her to give him a small but genuine smile.

“Home,” she says quietly, “I was home.”

“So you’re telling me, a demi fae is one of your strongest warriors,” Cassian says, throwing quotes around the words, “and the guys power is death, just pure death? And he’s how tall exactly?”

Y/n laughs, “My uncle Lorcan has described it to me as death, I’m not sure what that means exactly, it was a gift from the old God of Death, Hellas. It looks like Azriel’s shadows, though they’re not sentient little creatures more like whips of shadow that he controls. I don’t know how tall he is exactly but he’s taller then you, he’s taller than all three of you males, actually. You should see the height difference between him and Elide.”

Azriel couldn’t help the small grin on his lips as his brother continues to pester Y/n over the apparently giant uncle of hers. It’d started with him asking about her father, and then the rest of his cadre. She’d told them all about the mighty warriors. Fenrys, who she could only describe as very very pretty, he could shift into a giant white wolf, and winnow, though not quite as much as those here could. Lorcan, the giant shadow wielder, who’s name is apparently Lord Lorcan Lochan, to everyone’s utter amusement. And a mysterious figure named Vaughan, who she admits wasn’t around a lot when she grew up, usually away in Wendlyn, he could shift into a massive osprey.

“There’s no way, he’d have to be like seven feet tall,” Cassian argues, mouth opening to ask yet another question.

Nesta elbows him in the side, “I want to hear more about the shapeshifter.”

“Lysandra,” Y/n supplies the name with a warm smile, “Her favorite form is a snow leopard, lethal creatures, but the softest fur you’d ever felt in your life. When I was a child she’d let me cuddle up next to her by the fire to take naps.”

“You’d mentioned a sea battle earlier,” Mor chimes in, “what was the creature she shifted into.”

Y/n’s eyes light up, “One of my favorite stories, I would beg to hear it again and again. It’s called a sea dragon, the companions of the Mycenians of old Terrasen. When they were banished from their home centuries ago the sea dragons all died out and it became legend that once the dragons returned, so would the Mycenians.”

Azriel watches her, enraptured by her stories. It had been like that the whole night. She’d been stolen away by Feyre as soon as they’d arrived, more and more questions being thrown at her throughout dinner. He’d taken a seat across from her next to Cassian, who had by far asked her the most. But she met each one with a story, that look in her eye from out in the hall hidden but not gone. She’d seemed lost, far far away, and so sad. He’d almost turned around and brought them back to the house of wind just so she could keep looking for a way home, just to erase that look. But when she’d smiled at him, all he could do was stare.

“During the war my mother had traveled to Skulls bay.” She talked with her hands, Azriel noticed. “One of the missing Mycenians was there, she’d figured it out a long time before that when she was still an assassin, when she’d wrecked the whole port to free hundreds of slaves. Captain Rolfe, the pirate lord, was not happy to learn the assassin who’d ruined his island was actually the long lost Queen of Terrasen. He refused to send aid, so my mother did what she does best, she schemed. Her and my aunt devised the plan to bring the sea dragon back. The battle didn’t go quite as planned, the valg had sea wyverns, vicious and powerful. But that sea dragon form, huge and magnificent was stronger, smarter. She used them against the valg forces, sending those beasts straight into the hulls of their own ships. My mother tells me that she could barely keep up with Lysandra’s speed, if you blinked she was gone. It was close, she was badly wounded, but she won.”

“Wow,” Elain breathes, eyes sparkling, “That’s amazing.”

“My uncle Aedion tells it better,” Y/n shrugs, smiling at the memory, “He always told me that it was then that he decided he could not live without her. When he saw her bleeding on that beach still in that huge form, half wild from the fight, he wasn’t afraid of her even though she looked ready to bite his head off.”

Cassian laughs, hooking an arm over the back of Nesta’s chair, “I know the feeling.”

Nesta looked half tempted to bite him right then to prove his point. Cassian simply grins at his mate, that telltale look in his eyes that would usually have the pair leaving early at any moment.

Azriel rolls his eyes at the pair, looking towards the female across from him. To find Y/n already looking right back. She’s got that overly sweet smile on her painted lips that she knows gets under his skin. He gets the sense that she enjoys it, the way he glares at her, it’s like a game. See how much she could push before he finally pushed back.

Rhys leans forward, that knowing grin on his lips again, “How fast can you fly in that hawk form? You said you went easy on poor Az earlier.”

She laughs and somehow he doesn’t care that it’s at his expense, “Very very fast, I can shift the air under my wings to go even faster. I could make it to the house of wind in less than a minute if I wished.”

“Impressive,” Azriel says, rolling his eyes.

“Oh don’t be a sore loser, Az,” she taunts.

It’s the first time she’s called him that, he quite enjoys the sounds of it, “Is it really losing if your competitions got a boost?”

“Only using what’s in my arsenal,” she shrugs nonchalantly, taking a sip of her wine.

Azriel’s eyes zero in on the motion, appreciating the way her lips rest on the edge of the glass. He was right, that color stained.

Careful brother, Rhys whispers in his mind, Or I really will send Cassian to babysit you.

He glares at the high lord, I do not need a sitter.

That’s what Cassian said, Rhys shrugs, Now look at him.

And it’s like a timer goes off on his patience, Cassian stands from his chair, taking his mate’s hand in his own.

“Well I think it’s time for us to go,” Cassian declares, he’d lasted longer than Azriel thought he would.

Nesta turns her eye on Y/n, “We train at the house of wind every morning, 8 am sharp, be there.”

Y/n grins, baring those sharp canines, and Azriel has the good sense to be wary of letting those two near each other in a sparring ring.

Tag List- Anyone in white could not be tagged. Let me know if I got your tag wrong!!

@inloveallthetime , @microwaveallthedemons , @nayaniasworld , @thecraziestcrayon , @fightmedraco , @blackgirlmagicforever , @nikt-wazny-y , @fangirlloza010 @fussel9913

the seventeen chronicles : a mini-series w/ seungcheol, jeonghan, wonwoo, jihoon and minghao

synopsis : london, 1804. each season is marked by the turbulence of newly eligible bachelors and bachelorettes, all looking for the greatest match of the season and making the perfect alliance. this mini-series is about five of them.

pairing : svt member x fem!reader. stories are set up in the same universe but can be read independently.

genre : regency!au, fluff, comfort, angst (it’ll be more detailed for each fic)

status : finished

word count : 36,2k w

a/n : this is really historically incorrect, im just here for the aesthetic so let’s go with the flow and enjoy ig

running for the crown : king!seungcheol x queen!reader, arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, 6,6k w

y/n, duchess of aquitaine, spent her whole life in france when she’s suddenly sent off in england where she is meant to marry choi seungcheol, the second son of late king of england and future ruler of the english empire. when she arrives in a whole new and foreign country, lost and disoriented, she meets a strange man, soft as the ray of sunshine and cold as the gust of wind.

you’re the only one that i want : brother’s viscount!joshua x countess!reader, brother’s best friend, friends to lovers, 6k w

saying that y/n was the most awaited debutante was a huge understatement. an ethereal beauty, a radiant personality and, last but definitely not least, an immeasurable dowry: the young girl was the target of all the ton’s eyes. yet, after losing her older brother, the young lady was far from interested in finding a husband, which wasn’t the ton’s opinion at all. seeking her brother’s best friend’s help, she will have to fight and protect herself against this cruel world.

checkmates : viscount!jeonghan x duchess!reader, enemies to lovers, 1,8k w

cold. apathetic. indifferent. arrogant. self-satisfied. those were the words the court used to employ when they were referring to you. you were well known in the whole kingdom for your cleverness at chess, your grace when dancing and your precision at archery but also for your lack of conversation or interest in anyone or anything apart from dance and studies. and if it seemed like the ton got used to your attitude, yoon jeonghan didn’t look fazed in the slightest.

prenuptial agreement : duke!wonwoo x viscountess!reader, fluff, angst, childhood friends to fake marriage to lovers, 6,1k w

this is your twentieth birthday and your twentieth season in london but this time, it will be as an eligible bachelor and bachelorette. you become the most popular young lady to make her debut among the ton while wonwoo is avoiding marriage like plague. but when your family decides to accept the proposal from an old and repellent count, you try to find a way out and let’s say you have the most brilliant and stupid idea.

the war’s board : war advisor!jihoon x queen’s lady!reader, rivals to lovers, 6,2k w

jihoon’s fate was preordained. growing up alongside the king, he followed every geopolitical lessons, learnt every strategies and read every books related to war. one day, he meets one of the queen’s favourite lady who exceptionally become his colleague. a strong rivalry and competition starts between the two of them and jihoon knew that losing wouldn’t be an option

you are a work of art : diplomate!minghao x countess!reader, strangers to lovers, 3,8k w

xu minghao spent his whole life in a boat, traveling from an embassy to another, tagging along with his parents. today, his parents wish he could find an anchor in london but minghao can’t resign himself to give up a life full of adventures and treasures.

bonus: knight of king : king!soonyoung x knight!reader, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden love, 5,5k w

being the knight of the king of the french future monarch included being constantly around him, insuring his constant protection and wellbeing. being the knight of the king also included putting his life before yours and always being ready to sacrifice said life for him. and you were ready for those two functions since the moment you decided to enlist. 

but what being the knight of the king didn’t include was to fall for him and sadly, you also added this function to your list of tasks. 

@/som1ig 2023 | all rights reserved | do not plagiarise

mutual understanding

Chapter I | Chapter II | CHAPTER III: As curious as a dead cat | IV | V

PAIRING: Kenpachi/AFAB!Reader CONTENTS: AU - Fantasy, Medieval, Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Pining, Explicit Sexual Content, Virginity Loss. WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Explicit sexual content, Cunnilingus, First time (I think, kinda). WORDCOUNT: 3221

Summary:

You had assumed you would have been intimate with him on your wedding night, and you were hoping that it would happen anytime soon after that first kiss.

Notes:

FINALLY what probably everyone had been waiting for!

Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

header by me, divider by @/saradika

taglist: @actuallysaiyan @lol-ktr @vrgelivvvv @pennameyoruichiii

@hikariandptakchleb @thebestgirlever2

Kenpachi didn’t make any indication of wanting to touch more than you had allowed him to, only sliding his hands up and down your sides, and that was a relief that night you kissed for the first time. 

You started to reconsider it as the days went by.

Spending more time with Kenpachi had actually opened your eyes about a lot of things about him that you had misjudged. He spoked crudely, but he simply did so because it was a part of him (and you figured it had a lot to do with his past; since he wasn’t royalty, he probably never had an education). His hardened expression was just natural as well, it did not mean that he was angry all the time. Better yet, it was actually attractive how stoic he was sometimes. You had been a fool for a long time; he wasn’t as cold, distant or violent as you initially assumed. At least not violent towards you, or anyone who couldn’t defend themselves, and that was all you cared about. 

You had assumed you would have been intimate with him on your wedding night. Even if that didn’t end up happening at that moment, you were hoping that it would happen anytime soon after that first kiss. You weren’t ignorant about what it was supposed to happen, you weren’t even ignorant about your own body. He had awoken certain sensations that you had never felt, and you were more than curious about what it’d be like to actually lay with someone. And nothing as exciting as doing it with your husband when you had newfound affection for him. 

Which made you conclude that you liked Kenpachi more than you would like to admit. Albeit you had jumped to conclusions about him from the beginning; once a little light came through, you saw him differently, and you couldn’t deny it anymore. Especially after you started kissing more regularly, something in your stomach bubbled (besides sexual excitement) every time. And you just wanted, needed, more. 

You eyed him as discreetly as possible whenever he got to the bedroom at night, taking off his clothes as he readied himself to sleep. Callous skin for sure, but with curves and dips and defined muscles, with broad shoulders and ample chest. You couldn’t even help yourself but stare at him; you were as curious as a dead cat, but you wouldn’t mind being dead at all if it meant laying with such a man. He was your spouse, after all. 

Kenpachi walked in later than usual one night. The colder days had crept in, and snow was inevitable to happen soon. You had insisted he take a bath in the bedroom several times, it was warmer than any other room (you wouldn’t admit to any ulterior motives), but he kept denying it for no apparent reason; he usually was ready to sleep as soon as he walked in. 

You stayed in silence for a few minutes, watching him from the bed as he sat down in the chair by the fireplace, taking off his eyepatch and running his hand through his hair before cracking his neck to the side.

“Did you think I had kids of my own?” Kenpachi suddenly asked without even turning his eyes to you, but you couldn’t help but look at him in surprise. 

He was talking about Yachiru and the moment you found out about her. You felt your face heat up just remembering it.

“I had no idea what… what to think, if I’m being honest.” You answered vaguely. 

“You were shocked when you thought I had children.” He said, looking at you with an amused grin.

“Yes.” You finally admitted, blushing deeper. “I knew nothing about you, so I was surprised!”

“You could’ve just asked.” Kenpachi said with a chuckle. “But it was a funny way to introduce yourself to my men.”

“Please, I could barely look them in the eye afterwards.” You replied, covering your face. The sound of his laugh took you by surprise, and it only made you smile. “What’s the purpose of bringing this up now?”

“Didn’t think my wife who didn’t want to marry me would care about that shit.” 

“Any wife would care if her husband was sleeping around!” You complained, rolling your eyes. “Are you mocking me?”

“What do you think?” 

When Kenpachi walked over to you, you tensed up in anticipation. He sat beside you on the bed before promptly kissing you, slamming his lips against yours. He never failed to take you by surprise; he was rarely soft or gentle, usually slowing down after a while, but his kisses were always urgent. You hadn’t kissed anyone before him so you could mold yourself to his pace, but you were positive this was just his own personality seeping through in the way he kissed you. If anything, he was always authentic. 

You were breathless when he pulled away, and you watched him, dizzy-eyed as he stood up to remove his tunic before slipping beside you on the bed. You stared at him expectantly, and sighed when it was obvious when he just wanted to sleep. 

You knew nothing about seduction, so you didn’t exactly know how to proceed; you didn’t want to explicitly ask for Kenpachi to touch you, you had your pride as well. Sighing loudly again, you wished him good night before blowing out the candle in your bedside table, to which he only responded with a grunt. 

It took you a while to fall asleep that night, and you were too tempted to get up and take a walk around the castle but quickly gave up on the idea, too nervous to wake Kenpachi up if you were to get out. Though in the few days you had been sharing a bed, it was almost an obvious fact that he slept like a log; you could play the drums and he would not even notice. 

When you woke up early in the morning, the first thing you noticed was the snow outside the window, covering the sill. You watched, between sleepiness and wonderment, as small drops of snow slowly fell from the sky, stretching your legs along the warmth of the bed. 

“Have you never seen snow?” Kenpachi’s hoarse voice startled you, making you turn to him in surprise. 

“It rarely snows in the palace.” You replied, clearing your voice to avoid sounding too sleepy, and pulling the covers over your shoulders when you noticed he was only covering his lower half with the sheets, bare chest completely exposed. “I’ve only seen snow a couple of times.”

He only grunted in response, and you took a minute to watch his face; you almost never got to see him wake up at the same time as you. His hair was just as wild as it was during the day, you’ve seen him comb it yet stay the same, so it must naturally look that messy. You were fond of that look, it just added to his overall aggressive appearance. 

The scar down the side of his face always caught your attention. Kenpachi was regarded as the strongest man in the kingdom, but who had been strong enough to harm him?

“You’re staring too much.” He said, fixing his eyes on yours. You immediately felt your temperature raise, and swallowed quietly. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Your scar-”

“Well, I can’t do anything about that.”

“No.” You chuckled as he grinned, equally amused. “How did you get it?”

“A woman gave it to me.”

“A woman?!” You raised your voice in surprise. “She must have been remarkable to have inflicted such harm to you.”

“Yeah…” 

When Kenpachi didn’t add anything else, you became nervous, fidgeting under the covers. He was the one who wouldn’t stop staring at you then. 

You gasped when he suddenly rolled on top of you, bracing his arms on each side of your head, looking down at you with eyes that turned darker with each passing moment. The heat emanating from his body invaded you, even through the sheets and covers in between your bodies.

“Are you still unwilling?” Kenpachi asked in a surprisingly cautious tone. 

There wasn’t any need to clarify what he meant when he asked, and you didn’t need to consider your answer. 

“No, I have been… willing for a while now.” You answered, embarrassed yet enthusiastic.

You could have kept talking if it wasn’t for Kenpachi’s insistent mouth covering yours in the blink of an eye. His kisses had always been hungry, as if he was trying to devour you, but you could tell the difference between his usual ones and the kiss he was giving you at that moment. He was excited for you, fervently gliding his lips over yours as his tongue explored the inside of your mouth, swallowing down the little noises you made as he pressed his body to yours. 

That was when you felt his erection pressing against your thigh. If you could feel it through all the fabrics, you couldn’t even imagine what his size would be like. 

Kenpachi only pulled back to remove the covers, attaching his lips to yours soon afterward. He groaned lowly when one of his hands found your chest, groping your breast roughly through your nightgown and making you gasp as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

Your heart pounded fast inside your chest, too nervous, excited and scared at the same time when he pulled your nightgown over your head, discarding it haphazardly, leaving you completely exposed. The cool air created goosebumps on your skin, and you shivered from trepidation. He stared at you, eyes traveling down your chest and lower, and you felt the need to cover yourself the longer he kept his gaze on you. 

A few seconds seemed like an eternity, and you were about to pull the sheets over yourself when he spoke. 

“You must be a siren sent to tempt me,” Kenpachi grunted, and you looked at him with eyes wide open. “Look what you fucking do to me.”

The air was knocked out of you when he crashed his lips to yours, pinning you to the mattress with the weight of his body, forcing you to part your legs. His erection was much more obvious as he ground his hips against yours, the fabric of his pants creating friction that you’ve never felt before, making you whimper.

Kenpachi dragged his tongue down your jaw and neck, pressing open mouth kisses every now and then as his hands wandered up your sides to cup your breasts. You didn’t know how a simple touch could ignite a fire within you, but when he swiped his thumbs over your nipples, jolts of pleasure traveled through your body, causing your back to arch. 

“You like that?” He chuckled darkly before kissing you, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers. 

Your answer was the whine that slipped past your lips as you tried to kiss him back, a difficult task when you felt his other hand wander down your hips to roughly grab your butt. Kenpachi dragged his lips down your chin and neck until he reached your chest, nibbling at the curve of your tit before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

The sounds that came from your lips were strange. You had made noises when you touched yourself in the past but it was different; you felt more vulnerable when such a man was causing them as he sucked and grazed his teeth on your supple skin, surely leaving marks for days. Closing your eyes, you covered your mouth for a second before Kenpach firmly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your face.

“I wanna hear you.” He smirked salaciously, sending shivers up your spine. “I’ve been thinking about this for too long for you to be quiet. Be as loud as you want.”

Biting on the curve of your breast hard, you squeaked loudly. You blushed, ashamed of the sound you made, and tugged at his hair, knowing fully well he had done that on purpose. Kenpachi only looked at you with dark eyes and a wicked smile, running his tongue over your nipple and making you gasp. 

His lips trailed down your abdomen, making you giggle when his tongue traced your belly button before he got to your hips. He pulled away to part your legs, strong hands holding your thighs, and your entire body burned up underneath his gaze. 

“Why do you keep staring at me so much?!” You yelled in a hushed tone.

“Because you drive me fucking crazy.”

The frenzied look in his eyes and the wide grin on his lips made your heart skip a beat.

Maybe you were going just as crazy for him as he was for you. 

“This part right here,” He went on, licking his lips as one of his hands glided over your entrance, making you yelp. “It’s calling for me. Do you know how fucking gorgeous you are down here?”

“That-That’s not-! I don’t-!” You stammered, embarrassed and in shock the more he kept talking. Did people talk so much when they had sex?

He laughed boisterously at your reaction, and you gasped when his fingers dipped into your folds. 

“It’s your bad luck that you have a lecherous man for a husband.”

When Kenpachi leaned down, burying his face between your thighs, you gaped at him in shock, too stunned to react until his tongue slid over your slit. You whimpered, one hand threading through his hair, unsure of what to do. 

Wet warmth glided over your entrance, and it was strange but not unpleasant. It was as if he was somehow worshipping you, especially with the look he had in his eyes, completely clouded by dark lust as he gazed at you. He dragged his tongue over every inch of skin he could reach, even delving between your folds until you felt pleasure pulsing through your veins when he prod your clit. 

You moaned, long and loud, as your legs shuddered when Kenpachi pressed the tip of his tongue to your clit again. He chuckled smugly, focusing his attention on that spot, and soon turning your brain into mush. He was persistent and enthusiastic, licking and slurping like a starving man, with no shame about the mess he was making. You were completely drenched in your own arousal and his saliva, slowly dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. 

The sounds that left your mouth were uncontrollable. Even if he hadn’t commanded you to be loud, you still wouldn’t have been able to help yourself. The sparkles that traveled through your body every time his tongue dragged over your clit made you see stars, thighs jolting and attempting to squeeze his head between them if it wasn’t for one of his hands keeping you in place. The heat in your abdomen that had been steadily growing was close to bursting, muscles tightening with every move he made.

When two of his fingers effortlessly slipped inside you, you wailed, tugging harshly at his hair, as if simultaneously asking him to keep going and stop. Kenpachi only laughed quietly against your skin as he started to pump his digits, slow and hard, while attentively licking your clit. 

You couldn’t have warned him about your orgasm even if you wanted to, your mind going blank before you felt your release washing over you. You let out a shaky moan when you came, toes curling and body trembling, nothing but pleasure and his name resonating in your head. Your hips stammered against his face as he kept gliding his fingers until you stopped moving, panting once he slid out his digits. 

Kenpachi pulled away and you watched him lick his fingers, his leer not subduing even when he had your slick adorning his face. Wrapping one arm around your waist, he leaned down, resting his forehead over yours as he looked deep into your eyes. 

“Your taste is so fucking addictive.”

He looked just as feral as he did before, or even more so. You wondered how it was possible that he had the same look on his face as he did when he was enjoying a fight; and how it was possible that it pulled at your heartstrings to see him be like that for you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him hard, humming against his lips when you tasted yourself in them. You felt him smirk into the kiss, returning it hungrily as he rubbed his clothed erection over the damp, sensitive skin between your legs. 

Kenpachi hooked his fingers under the waistband of his pants before the booming knock at the door startled you.

“Captain!” Ikkaku yelled while insistently knocking on the door. 

“Fuck off!” Kenpachi hollered, making you jump in his arms. 

“I can’t, Captain! Official soldiers are here!”

“Tell them to get lost!”

“Ken!” You called for him, cupping his face as he looked at you with unfocused eyes. “This is probably urgent!”

“For fuck’s sake, is the kingdom under attack?!” Kenpachi screamed at the door, making you jolt again. 

“No, Captain…” Ikkaku’s unsure voice replied from the other side of the door. 

“Then tell them to fucking leave!”

You laughed, pushing at his shoulders to get him off you, though he didn’t budge an inch, only looking at you with the deepest frown you’ve ever seen. 

“You should go, it must be important.” 

“You can’t be serious!”

When you pressed your hands against his shoulders again, Kenpachi pulled away, sitting up as you pulled the blankets over your body to cover yourself. 

“I’ll still be here when you come back.” You reassured him, wrapping your hand around his arm. 

You kissed him sweetly, just pressing your lips against his briefly, after all it was a small comfort, you didn’t want to tempt him. 

“You better be, I can’t hold back any longer.”

You blinked, surprised. 

Funny. Was he ever holding back?

“Captain!” Ikkaku yelled again urgently.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m going!”

You watched, amused, as Kenpachi sat on the edge of the bed, grumbling under his breath before getting up and putting his clothes on. He only spared you one quick glance before walking out the room, slamming the door on his way out. 

You sighed, covering yourself with the blankets and furs, staring at the ceiling in awe. You were sticky, sweaty and fully drenched in between your legs, and you had an amazing orgasm yet still wanted more. It had been a difficult decision to convince him to leave when you didn’t even want him to in the first place. You wanted to see him fully bare in front of you as he climbed over your body before taking you. Just picturing a scene like that made your insides tingle. 

Was what you just did, sex? You only knew so much, and you couldn’t even believe where Kenpachi’s mouth had been (but you hoped he’d do it again in the future). The main event had been postponed, and while nervousness was still in your mind, a fluttering feeling in your stomach made you excited about seeing him for the next time, the last words he said hanging in the air.