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Kudo Kiyoka's entry into Miyo's life was almost cataclysmic. She could even separate the periods of her life based on this: before meeting Kiyoka, and after. Her life before him - if she could even call that existence a life - was like a swamp. Her days were nothing but a stagnant cycle of backbreaking work and targeted abuse, her thoughts murky. Even her body was akin to the plants in a bog, not really dying, just slowly, painfully decaying into dark, dirty water.
The day she entered the Kudo household was the day she received a new lease on life. New thoughts, foreign feelings, different experiences - her days were nothing but change upon change, and all of it were centered around one Kudo Kiyoka. For the most part, they were good changes. Scary sometimes - like the realisation that she was opening her heart to someone after years of having it broken - but welcomed.
But it was the changes in her body that frightened her the most.
It started the first time they kissed, right after her kidnapping. Kiyoka hadn't left her side until she was almost fully recovered, but he spoke no more than a handful of words, always clipped and curt. It was like a double edged sword to Miyo, who relished his attention but struggled with the idea that he might have been angry with her. When she tried to apologise for being so careless one evening, he'd grabbed her gently by the back of her neck and brushed his lips against hers, first ever so softly, and then more insistent when they parted in a surprised gasp.
Miyo froze in shock, never having imagined this as a possibility at all, but it felt... nice. Kiyoka was warm, and he smelled good and his lips were chapped but they made her feel dizzy in a good way and it was all she could do to press her palms flat on his chest and hold on for dear life. She tried to reciprocate, movements clumsy, but she didn't know if Kiyoka's answering groan against her mouth was one of encouragement or protest. She pulled away, but he only moved to chase her, before seeming to recall his sense of propriety and put some space between them.
"Sorry," he apologised, not quite looking at her. "It scared me, when you were taken. I'm angry with myself, not you." He gave no explanation for kissing her, and Miyo didn't know if she wanted one.
That encounter seemed to open the floodgates between them. Kiyoka started kissing her with the casualness of a man who had done so a thousand times. Passing each other by in the hallways, when she brought him tea before bed, even when he sometimes woke up before Yurie arrived. They were always quick, light presses of his lips, but each one shook Miyo to the core.
She noticed other things too. How his hands moved as much as his lips whenever they kissed; they brushed against her own, grasped at her waist, rubbed against her forearms. How his eyes stayed on her whenever they existed in the same space, but his gaze was no longer just curious. They had a determined, laser-focused glint to them that made her nervous, but she couldn't deny that she didn't want him to stop.
Her body started responding to him before her mind did. Her thighs started clenching together whenever she caught him staring. Her nipples hardened under her layers whenever he pressed up against her like a hard, warm wall. He left her breathless when he purposely caressed her fingers as he accepted a cup of tea from her hands. She started feeling an uneasy warmth below her belly when his kisses lingered.
Even her dreams caught on. They were never explicit, just mere flashes - calloused hands travelling under her open kimono, sensual whispers into her ear, her own hands finding purchase on naked, strong shoulders - but they left Miyo squirming in discomfort each time she woke, all too aware that the star of her dreams was mere rooms away, separated only by a few flimsy walls of paper.
There was a fire between them, and each touch seemed to stoke it further. Miyo both wanted and feared the point of no return - when that fire turned into an uncontrolled blaze.
The first time she ended up in his lap, it was an embarrassing accident. It was an unnaturally warm day, so Yurie had decided to push open the outside-facing doors of the living room so it wouldn't feel so stuffy as they had their lunch. Kiyoka had the day off, and Miyo was bringing in his tray to him. She settled to his left and set it down in front of him. As she went to rotate the tray so his rice and soup bowls would be closest to him, she heard the irritating buzz of an insect, only to turn her head and find a large bee too close for comfort.
A small shriek, an exasperated "Miyo" and a flurry of movements later ended up with Yurie walking in on them with the remaining trays and finding Miyo almost completely on Kiyoka's lap as he had his arms around her so she wouldn't topple them both over. The bee, apparently more afraid of Miyo than she was of it, had long since disappeared. Yurie held her tongue at the warning glare she received, but the sound of the trays hitting the tatami apparently brought Miyo out of her daze, and her scramble backwards would have toppled over Kiyoka's food if he hadn't grabbed onto her sides and held her in place.
"Calm down," he murmured, stopping her before she could even start with her multitude of apologies. "It's fine. Breathe." Yurie had left as soon as she set the tray tables down, so the man felt no rush to let her go. "Sorry," she finally whispered, cheeks a light pink. "I didn't mind at all," he whispered, tightening his grip on her sides. "My Lord," she whispered back in a panic, grabbing his wrists and trying to squirm out of his hold as if she only just realised where his hands were resting.
He let her go with a soft laugh. Miyo had a hard time looking at anything but her food the rest of lunch.
By the time night rolled around, she'd all but forgotten about it as she brought a tray of tea and pickles to Kiyoka. It was a little tradition they'd started when she noticed him sitting by the moonlight late one night. He couldn't sleep, and Miyo ended up keeping him company. She enjoyed that time with him especially; something about the dark of the night and his attire made him much more unguarded and approachable. Tonight, though, Kiyoka had asked her to put the tea aside, and as soon as she was within reach, maneuvered her so she was sitting comfortably on his lap.
"M-my Lord, w-w- we shouldn't," she started, already trying to get off him. His arms around her waist held her prisoner. "We're going to get married soon, you're going to have to get used to this. Might as well start now," he replied casually. "You don't like it?"
Really, what an unfair man she wanted to marry, putting words in her mouth like that. "I didn't say that," she acquiesced, slowly relaxing. She let her head fall against his chest and tried to calm her fluttering heart at the intimacy that was so new to her after years of being left alone.
One night, things escalated. Kiyoka had had a few hectic days; the Anti-Grotesquerie Unit had a new case, and that meant he spent every waking moment at work, sometimes even choosing to stay the night instead of coming home.
Normally Miyo wouldn't have minded. She would have missed him, but she generally kept herself busy and let the time pass by her. But with their budding physical relationship, she found herself getting needy, almost desperate. She hadn't seen neither hide nor hair of her fiance for two whole days now. After weeks of stolen kisses and heated looks, she felt parched with Kiyoka's affection.
That was why she stayed up well into the night this time, waiting for her fiance's return. He'd blinked at her in surprise when she greeted him at the door, but hadn't chided her for losing sleep like she expected him too. Perhaps he missed her as well. To her relief, they'd successfully solved the case, and he'd earned a day off tomorrow.
She should have, but Miyo couldn't bring herself to feel any sort of shame as she followed him to their spot when he came out of his bath and plopped into his lap as soon as he sat down. If it took him by surprise, Kiyoka didn't show it. He simply wrapped his arms around her and leaned down to press his lips to hers in a firm kiss.
"Miyo," he whispered when she pulled away and blushed. "You're so beautiful." Then he leaned down and kissed her again before she could even react.
Miyo felt lecherous. Here she was, boldly kissing a man who wasn't yet her husband. Out in the open! But she couldn't find the resolve to put a stop to it. "My Lord," she tried to say against his lips. "I- we..."
"Miyo," Kiyoka murmured, lips tracing a line from her lips up her cheek, before stopping to speak into her ear. Miyo shuddered at the feel of his breath on her skin. "When we do this, you say my name." She could barely bring herself to pay attention to his words, but managed a small nod before his lips were right on hers again, exploring her without words. Her fingers move to find purchase in his hair.
Kiyoka's own fingers move to cup the back of her head as they continued to share languid kisses before they curl into a fist and pull. He wasn't rough but he was firm, and Miyo was almost ashamed at the moan that left her lips.
The tilt of her head exposed her neck, and Kiyoka's lips attached to it almost immediately. Her eyes fluttered as he traveled the length of her throat with his mouth and feeling her nipples push against the restriction of her kimono made her face even hotter. Her fingers were still tangled in silvery locks, but they switched between gripping them tight and hanging limply as she tried to decide if she wanted him to stop or if she wanted more.
"My Lord, please," she begged. "Miyo," he growled in reply, tugging hard on her hair. "My name." Her correction is immediate.
"K-Kiyoka."
He hummed in approval before rewarding her with another soft kiss before stopping himself from going any further, and even though she was later grateful for it, Miyo wished he'd gone farther down.
Miyo doesn't think they can be without a chaperone anymore. She knows she can't, at least. She's turned into a shameful woman, and she doesn't even care. If Kiyoka had been doing the assaulting before, Miyo took on the job now. Little grazes when she walked past him, biting her lip when she caught him looking at her, even surprising him with a kiss as she sent him off to work one morning before skipping into the house, knowing without looking back that he was staring at her dumbfounded.
That night, they don't even try to be subtle about it. "We've been growing close lately," Kiyoka hints casually. For once, Miyo isn't in his lap. It doesn't make for a very comfortable tea-drinking experience. She takes a sip before she answers. "Yes."
"I'll hold myself back from now on. Otherwise, I'd go too far."
Miyo keeps her eyes on the moon when she answers him in a quiet voice, keeping her words clear. "I want you to." She doesn't have to look at her fiance to tell that he's staring at her in shock. She waits for a beat, then slowly braves a look at him, and bites her lip when she meets his eyes. He wants to, too.
They head to bed early that night. His bed. Miyo finds herself laid bare under Kiyoka, her body slowly being mapped out, first with his eyes, then with his fingers, and finally with his mouth. She can't quite look at him at first, too embarrassed at being so brazenly on display, but Kiyoka sounds nothing short of awed when he tells her how stunning she is. It helps.
His hands are rough from training, but his touch is gentle, and she takes pleasure from the way they run along her skin, tracing her clavicle before moving lower and circling her nipples. She yelps at the feeling and covers her mouth in shame. She's never known that they could feel like that. Kiyoka seems to like that sound, because he rubs harder and tells her he wants to hear her, no matter what. She doesn't know if she can do that, but it seems she's lost control of her voice when he takes a nub into his mouth to lave at. Her hands come up to keep him there, and Miyo doesn't know how much more she can take if this is just the beginning.
Meanwhile, Kiyoka explores some more. Miyo doesn't realise where his fingers have come to a stop until one finds its way between her folds, touching her almost carelessly. The movement is so smooth, it's like she's-
"So wet," he breathes into her neck, not stopping his touches. Her face burned brighter. How embarrassing. "Are you always this wet?" Is she? "No," she whispers, realising it now that he brought it up. "Only when you..." She's too shy to admit it. "God," he groans. "I make you this wet?" She can't bring herself to answer him. "Tell me," he pleads, raising his head to look at her. She keeps her eyes closed, but nods ever so slightly. He pushes a slick finger into her, holding her tighter to him as her breath hitches. "Is this okay?"
She doesn't know. She doesn't know what's okay, what she wants, what she should want. She just knows that she won't be able to stand it if he stopped and left now. "Please," is all she can put into words, but it seems to be enough. "Hush," he whispers. "You never have to beg, not with me." One finger turns into two, and she hides her face from him with her hands. Miyo jumps when his thumb brushes something above her fingers. It runs through her like a zap of electricity, and for a moment Miyo thinks he's used his Gift on her.
She jerks in his hold and tries to move, but a sharp "Stay." has her freezing in place. Then Kiyoka does it again, before letting his thumb run circles around it. The zap turns into a mild hum of pleasure that she can't run from. Her eyes are too weak to stay open at that point. Her mind is so muddled that just trying to manage both sight and touch is suddenly too much for her. She doesn't even realise the way her hips swivel, trying to pleasure herself even more. "Kiyoka..."
"You're so wanton, Miyo," Kiyoka whispers into her ear. She wants to retort, wants to tell him it's not her fault, that he's the one who made her this way, but his hand leaves its spot from between her legs and all she can do is utter a weak "No..." as she raises herself to try and catch it.
He forces her legs apart with a knee, and when did he get undressed? Miyo looks her fill. She tries to, at least, but then she can feel Kiyoka between her legs, hot and hard and overwhelming as she's suddenly hit with a wall of nerves. What are they doing? What is she doing? Should they stop? What if this changes everything? What if she can't marry Kiyoka for whatever reason, and it was because they hadn't stopped? What if he doesn't want her anymore after this?
As if sensing the change in her mental state, Kiyoka leans forward, enveloping her fully with his body. She can't look away from him, not when he looks so beautiful. "We can still stop, Miyo," he tells her seriously, like she's not about to cut his pleasure short after stringing him along for so long. "We can stop, but... But in my heart, you're already my wife. You've been my wife since you gave me the kumihimo I cherish so much. It doesn't matter what anyone says. I don't care about rituals. I'm your husband. Whether we do this or not doesn't matter to me. We're already married, to me."
Miyo feels stupid for crying at a time like this, but Kiyoka doesn't chide her about it, just wipes her tears and waits for her to tell him what she wants. "Please...," she says with a sob, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. "Please love me."
"I do love you, Miyo. So much," he whispered, and then he showed her. Everything after that was hazy to her. She felt full, and everywhere she looked it was Kiyoka - his body, his scent, his touch, his sounds. She felt so close to him but she wanted him closer still, crossing her legs and cradling the back of his head against her neck. She feels a sharp pain there, but his fingers reach down again and then it feels good, so good again, she doesn't know how much more she can take with all these conflicting feelings...
Miyo opens her eyes to find herself being carried to the bath. "You're up," Kiyoka remarks as they enter the room. Miyo notices that the lights are on, and she could see steam coming from the tub. Kiyoka must have prepared everything before coming to get her. He sets her slowly in the hot water, before nudging her forward and slipping in behind her. She blushes, and it doesn't escape his notice.
"You're shy? Even after everything?"
She bats a hand in the general area behind her, hoping to slap his arm, but Kiyoka catches and lowers it back into the water, letting his arms circle her waist and leaning forward to press a kiss to her shoulder. "You shouldn't hit your husband," he murmured softly. This man will be the death of me...
Oh, but what a wonderful death it will be.