Shades of Grey {Kenpachi/first!Yachiru}
Title: Shades of Grey
Pairing: Kenpachi/first!Yachiru
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 512
Warnings: Extreme, though not all that graphic, adult concepts.
Summary: Zaraki, though weathered and worn, can only see this hellhole in a new light through her eyes.
A/N: Again, just to clarify, this is the first Yachiru. Set pre-series, of course. Written for Theme 4: defining moment of drabble365days.
His hands trembled as he reached out. He tried to stop them from shaking, but by all the gods, it was too hard a task even for him. Never had he imagined himself to be in such a state, a situation wherein he was at a person's mercy.
A woman's mercy, nonetheless.
He leant down and planted hesitant kisses across her navel, silently seeking permission, allowing his hands to caress her sides. They were rough, but he tried to be gentle, tried not to allow his inner beast to surface - he swore to himself that it would only be reserved for battle and nothing more. She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, reassuring him that everything was going to be all right.
Meek and incapable of controlling his own movements, he gave into her, diving down to nip at her throat. She moved her head to the side, giving him added access. Ever appreciative, he pressed his nose to her neck, inhaling her earthly scent, one that smelled of fresh grass and rain, and she laughed as he nuzzled her, tickling her.
It did the both of them good, for her laughter was the only thing that could put him at ease. With some hesitation lifted off of his shoulders, he carved a path down her frame, leaving wet, sloppy kisses in his wake, and stopped just above her waistband. Her whisper urged him on. He submitted, giving her a quick yet passionate kiss, and when he was enveloped within her, it was a feeling that he had never thought he would know.
Her breath came out in haggard murmurs, her hands clutched at his sides, eyes squeezed tight as she moved with each thrust he gave her. It was a mutual action: giving and receiving. He bent down, captured her lips with his own, nibbling on them and pushing harder whenever he felt a moan vibrate in his mouth.
And when it was finally over, when his trembling suddenly ceased and he froze in place, his vision of this grey hellhole burst with colour, filling his line of sight and enveloping him with warmth. His hands curled, fisting the tattered old sheets beneath them while his breathing became more laborious to the point where he was gasping for air. Sweat littered his skin, and once it was over and he licked his lips in satisfaction, he tasted salt slightly tainted by sweetness.
He collapsed unto her, she received him with open arms, and he took her into a tight embrace, the tightest that he could master with his somewhat numb limbs. She flashed him a smile, one that spoke of contentment, of joy that they finally shared this moment together. With a grin, he bent down and nuzzled her face, surrendering to her once more when she pulled him down for a chaste kiss.
And in her eyes he could see all those colours, bright and uplifting. Not once did he ever see a shade of grey.
Pairing: Kenpachi/first!Yachiru
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 512
Warnings: Extreme, though not all that graphic, adult concepts.
Summary: Zaraki, though weathered and worn, can only see this hellhole in a new light through her eyes.
A/N: Again, just to clarify, this is the first Yachiru. Set pre-series, of course. Written for Theme 4: defining moment of drabble365days.
His hands trembled as he reached out. He tried to stop them from shaking, but by all the gods, it was too hard a task even for him. Never had he imagined himself to be in such a state, a situation wherein he was at a person's mercy.
A woman's mercy, nonetheless.
He leant down and planted hesitant kisses across her navel, silently seeking permission, allowing his hands to caress her sides. They were rough, but he tried to be gentle, tried not to allow his inner beast to surface - he swore to himself that it would only be reserved for battle and nothing more. She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, reassuring him that everything was going to be all right.
Meek and incapable of controlling his own movements, he gave into her, diving down to nip at her throat. She moved her head to the side, giving him added access. Ever appreciative, he pressed his nose to her neck, inhaling her earthly scent, one that smelled of fresh grass and rain, and she laughed as he nuzzled her, tickling her.
It did the both of them good, for her laughter was the only thing that could put him at ease. With some hesitation lifted off of his shoulders, he carved a path down her frame, leaving wet, sloppy kisses in his wake, and stopped just above her waistband. Her whisper urged him on. He submitted, giving her a quick yet passionate kiss, and when he was enveloped within her, it was a feeling that he had never thought he would know.
Her breath came out in haggard murmurs, her hands clutched at his sides, eyes squeezed tight as she moved with each thrust he gave her. It was a mutual action: giving and receiving. He bent down, captured her lips with his own, nibbling on them and pushing harder whenever he felt a moan vibrate in his mouth.
And when it was finally over, when his trembling suddenly ceased and he froze in place, his vision of this grey hellhole burst with colour, filling his line of sight and enveloping him with warmth. His hands curled, fisting the tattered old sheets beneath them while his breathing became more laborious to the point where he was gasping for air. Sweat littered his skin, and once it was over and he licked his lips in satisfaction, he tasted salt slightly tainted by sweetness.
He collapsed unto her, she received him with open arms, and he took her into a tight embrace, the tightest that he could master with his somewhat numb limbs. She flashed him a smile, one that spoke of contentment, of joy that they finally shared this moment together. With a grin, he bent down and nuzzled her face, surrendering to her once more when she pulled him down for a chaste kiss.
And in her eyes he could see all those colours, bright and uplifting. Not once did he ever see a shade of grey.