Bleach Men And Their Favorite Positions (18+) ꨄ︎

You write my favourite characterization of Aizen. I adore your portrayal of him so much 😍

I have a request, if you'd be so kind to indulge it: I have this image of my mind of being with him the night before Karakura Town- like it's Mass Effect and we're about to jump into hell, and I just hnnng what would it be like? How would he spend those last precious hours of freedom?

Thank you for your kind words and patience!! I can't say I'm familiar with Mass Effect, but last moments? I can certainly do that!

CW: Surgery discussion, mild angst, slightly suggestive, but no smut.

Aizen stares intensely at the monitor. Ichigo and his friends are faring better than he originally planned with the Espada. On one hand - he is disappointed that the Espada lacked the strength to stop Ichigo and his friends, on the other hand, his curiosity grows as Ichigo continues to push himself to his limits.

Yet Aizen wasn't worried. The days were nearing before he would step into Karakura Town, or if it was as he suspected, a fake Karakura Town. Either way, Aizen had planned contingency upon contingency for what may or may not happen.

Though as the days draw near, Aizen mulls over the final touches to his plan. The hogyoku glimmers in the distance as leaves the room.

You stared at the perpetual night sky of Las Noches, the moon gone from its reaches. Your body feels heavy with your anxiety looming over you. It was a mix of anxiety, anticipation... and dread.

The worry that Sosuke wouldn't be succesful - the worry he wouldn't make it out of Las Noches at the rate the human teens were clearing out Las Noches.

The worry that he walks into a trap set by the Gotei 13.

The worry that you would never see him again.

You didn't agree with his methods to usurp the throne of the Soul King, but you also knew you couldn't talk him out of it. This was the only way Sosuke thought would work. And you could only trust in his own belief.

And ever the man with the plan, he ensured that you would be out of harms way once he entered Karakura Town. You would be far, far away from Las Noches, far from the reaches of Karakura Town and Soul Society. Further away from Japan in the World of the Living. If, no when he was successful, he would come for you, whatever way that may be.

You couldn't help but give a wry smile - wouldn't it have been easier to kill you? Sosuke was a peculiar man, with peculiar sentiments - that much you learned as your relationship with him deepened.

Oddly sentimental, and oddly trusting, of only you and Kaname. You wondered about his relationship with Gin sometimes - he almost kept the man at arms length. A thin thread linking the two men together. He never did reveal much about it though, and neither did Gin.

Instead, you and Kaname were trusted to the highest degree. Or at least, as high as a man of Sosuke's cautiousness allowed.

He entrusted you to operate on him - to implant the hogyoku into his chest. It was something you knew Sosuke could do on his own, but maybe - as one final act of trust, he wanted you and Kaname to perform the surgery. You touched his bare chest as you weaved a sedative kaido spell on him - a spell he would never succumb to normally. He had completely let down his guard.

Kaname watched as you cleaned the area for implantation, ensuring Sosuke was breathing normally. You sliced him cleanly as Kaname cleaned the blood from the incision. The hogyoku glimmered faintly.

You knew what to do, Sosuke had walked you through the procedure, had you practice and strengthen your spell casting abilities for this moment, and you had to trust yourself, just as he had trusted you.

You looked back outside, shaking yourself from that memory. Sosuke recovered smoothly, just as he anticipated. And now it was his last night with you, before he left Las Noches and just maybe you once and for all.

The night felt... calm, almost soothing to you. Sosuke indulged your whim to recite poetry. He read to you your favourites across centuries and cultures. Every syllable, pause and rhythm of his voice being seared into your memory.

In return, he wanted your wit, your charm and your thoughts. He would ask for your opinion, your criticisms and your guesses to the meaning behind the poems. The two of you in your own bubble of metaphors and allegories, of your favourite meal and teas.

Why wasn't every night like this?

Sosuke had a way with words, a way with power and a way with you. Why did he have to do this? Why? Why? Why?

Your anxiety was still festering, yet Sosuke looked as calm as ever. His face serene as he sipped his tea, enjoying the warmth it and you provided him.

He looked like a man without a care in the world, with every word spoken with a sense of measure and evenness. He was... relaxed.

He wanted one last thing from you, before you two retired for the night. It made you laugh how with everything going on, with all of his plans, with all of his intricacies and quirks, he yearned for your touch.

And you only wanted to oblige.

It was a surreal night. You took time to kiss him, as he did you. The two of you lost in each other's bodies and your own thoughts, as you seared every kiss, nip and bite to memory. The way his eyes would shutter as you gently bit his ear, the way he would angle his thrust a bit higher as you let out a gutteral moan of his name.

The night felt both long, yet so short. The weariness of your body and the overstimulated mess of nerves of your mind put you straight to sleep, with Sosuke's embrace the last thing you could sear to memory.

Birds were chirping nearby as you began to wake. Birds? Your eyes flew open and a new room greeted you. Sadness washed over you as you longed for Sosuke, but it was now the morning and he was gone.

And the only thing you could do now was to trust him.

Thank you for sending this request and I hope this is what you had in mind!! I wanted to write something with... a dreamy quality to it, but I don't think I conveyed that all that well haha!

Ｔｉｍｅｓ　Ｔｈｒｅｅ　Ｌｅｔ＇ｓ　Ｇｏ！　

Szayelaporro x Reader

2.7k

Warning: smut heavy, some angst, mention of mental health struggles, Foursome, clone fucking, anal, vaginal, oral, handcuffs, messy sex, overstimulated, usage of pills, dildo, dildo up male’s ass, prostate stimulation, sex marathon for hours, birthday sex, pet names used: good girl, fuck toy, darling, lab rat.

🩷 H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y 🩷 @saltychonk LOVE YOU to the moon HELL and back! <3

Thank you for beta read so I have all my dicks in order. @kryptoniteforsale @whitefoxfiction

You stir in your bed, unsettled by the uncanny sensation of being watched. And sure enough, the moment your drowsy eyes flutter open, you’re met with the familiar sight of your boyfriend — an Arrancar who occasionally pays you a visit when he needs something. 

You blink a few more times, trying to shake the last bit of sleep. Your vision was still a little blurry, so you weren’t too surprised when you saw him in triplicate. It wasn’t until one moved to the right and the others didn’t follow that you realized it wasn’t your vision that was out of whack—it was your head.

“What the hell? I see three of you!”, you said while blinking hard.

He gave you one of those sexy smirks while sliding his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his long, slender middle finger. The other two followed suit. 

You rubbed your eyes to clear the grogginess, the blurry haze around your peripheral vision slowly fading away.

Yup. It wasn’t your vision at all. 

There they stood, cocky smirks planted on their perfectly symmetrical faces and each of them held a small, neatly wrapped present.

“What is all this?”, you asked as you slowly sat up.

“It’s May the 9th”, one of them reminded you.

“I know it’s my birthday. But since when did you ever give a fuck?” You had been with him for three years. Every year he made excuses and never showed up on your birthday. So you weren’t really expecting much from him this year either. Especially not triplets. It seemed like he was trying to make up for the last three years all at once. 

“I wasn’t going to have you sulk all alone in your room on your birthday. Now be more appreciative and give your gratitude”, he replied with excitement that gave you whiplash. The one who did most of the talking may be the real Szayelaporro. That was the logic you were going to go with. 

“So you made me clones of yourself for my birthday? Great. Triple the headache”. You rolled your eyes and exaggerated your annoyance. On the surface, you appeared irritated and unimpressed but on the inside you were ready to pounce on all three. Didn’t help your hormones were a train wreck and got you horny at the worst of times. Maybe he had a play in it. He was always giving you weird concoctions to try. And you being his experimental human partner, took whatever he had you swallow without hesitation. You have yet to grow an extra limb. So that was enough to trust him. For now. 

“You certainly know how to fool yourself. I can smell your pussy squeezing the emptiness. Why don’t we give it something to squeeze onto?”

“I ain’t squeezing anything! Freak!”, you denied while staring at the gifts they held in their hands. “Gimme gimme”, you ordered while putting out your empty hands.

The first one stepped forward and placed their gift in your palms. You brought it upto your ears and gave it a little shake and something rattled inside. You were cautious because they all wore that eager grin.

You unwrapped the gift and found yourself holding a small key. You raised an eyebrow and examined the shiny metal for some clues. “Did you get me a car?”

“Not exactly”, the first one replied. Was he the real Szayelaporro?

“Ah…so is this a puzzle I have to solve? How exciting!”, you said sarcastically and tossed the key to the side with disappointment. Of course he would make you work for your birthday gifts on your birthday. Someone had to explain to this narcissist that birthdays are special occasions, and not an opportunity for his own personal entertainment.

The second one stepped forward and placed his gift onto your open palms. You slowly unwrapped the present and gave out a deep sigh. It was a bottle of pink pills. 

“Now you want me to try an experimental drug on my birthday? I can’t be bothered with the third one”, you sighed with disappointment and tossed the pill bottle to the side. 

You were ready to get up from the bed but the third Szayelaporro towered before you. He grabbed your hand by the wrist and forced the third present into your hands. 

“Open it. If this one disappoints you, we will pack up and leave”, he explained. 

As if he was the one to keep his promises. But then again, your birthdays were always a disappointment to begin with. How much worse could it get?

You unravel the gift, slowly peeling away the paper. The present was much bigger than the other two so at least that held up some ounce of enthusiasm.

“Huh?” You blink a few times as you hold a thick glass dildo to your face, the transparent glass magnifying your facial features. “Ok, first off, pervert. Secondly, I ain’t surprised. And finally, could have started off with this gift”.

All three of them chuckled and the third one who gave you the delicate glass dildo leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours. “And ruin the surprise for my sweet lab rat? Now, did my rat figure out the maze?”

He was definitely playing a game here. A puzzle? A riddle? You couldn’t tell. Your deep silence told them that you were stumped. 

“You get to pick one gift. And rest will go back to us. And we are about to have a little party here. Just the four of us! So pick wisely, my darling”.

“Hell, what!!! A foursome?” Not that it wasn’t something you never imagined but in reality it sounded very intimidating, and with Szayelaporro, very dangerous!

“Well we do have to make up for the parties we missed in the last three years. So tell me, which one will you pick?”

You look at the selection of gifts that were displayed before you. A key, a bottle of strange pills and a glass dildo. Of course you picked the most innocent one. The key!!!

“Are you sure darling?”

“Ya I am sure!!!” Your confidence will not be faltered by self doubt and his trickeries.

“Very well”. He took the rest of the items and began preparing for the little ‘party’. Preparing in a way where everyone was stripped of all their clothes, including yourself.

You watched as one of the Szayelaporro took the strange pill. The other prepared his hole with some gel and you assumed the glass dildo was going up his tight asshole. You would pity his tight hole but you know he wouldn’t have given the same level of empathy if you were on the receiving end. 

The third one was without a gift. He held a tray of shot glasses and offered them to everyone. You took the glass and made your toast and chugged it down. 

It wasn’t alcohol.

It wasn’t soda either.

But everyone else took the same shots so it didn’t matter what was in it. 

The third Szayelaporro who was without a gift suddenly laid on his back and had the other two shackle him with cuffs. They made sure both his hands were securely in place and bound to the bedpost. You just stood there in awe, now understanding what the key was for. In your hands, you probably held the key to the handcuffs and you wondered if they planned to do some weird experiments on the one who was shackled up. 

It seems like you got the better end of the bargain. You got immunity.

But you were wrong.

You were NOT the one granted immunity. 

“Shit”, you gasped and suddenly felt a wave of heat creep up your body. Although your skin was covered in goosebumps like a carpet, your insides were burning. You glanced around and noticed two of the three Szayelaporro were already hard and dripping precum. The one bound to the bedpost and the one with a fat dildo up his ass were in the same pathetic state as yourself. A mindless horny mess. The one who took the pill was the only one who seemed to have his senses intact.

“Shit! So you put something in the shots and the pill was an antidote?”, you whispered, your legs barely holding you upright. Your pussy was already leaking a mixture of clear and slippery fluids. You were ready to be bred. 

“How observant and excellent logical thinking. Especially in your current state”, he continued with pride. The other two Szayelaporro were in no position to talk anymore. Whatever those pills contained, it was fucking them up real good. 

“Let me guess. You picked the pill for immunity. So you are the real asshole?” You tensed up— something began to throb on the inside of your pelvis. It was like your beating heart had migrated from your chest and into your pelvic region.

The most coherent Szayelaporro just shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe. What would have I done if you had taken the pills?” he grinned, challenging your sanity one last time. He wasn’t merely indulging in amusement of it all; he was discreetly studying the situation.

“You know me so well. I- I would rather have a dil-dildo up my ass than grab an unmarked bot-bottle of strange pills”, you explained, barely able to carry on a conversation. Your heart was racing and palpitating and so was your clit. You wanted this asshole to ravish you from the inside out— with no reservations and absolutely no hesitation. Yet your stubbornness clings to you still—a final, desperate attempt to preserve the very little dignity left. 

Whoever was the real Szayelaporro, it didn't matter anymore. It never mattered. His clones were his clones. Just as menacing and deranged. 

The two who did not take the antidote were flashing their erect dripping cocks at you as if you were nothing more but a fuck machine. In their eyes, that is exactly what they saw— a body with plenty of holes to use and bury their burning cocks deep within. 

You weren't in any better condition. As time ticked by, your judgment grew cloudy, casting a shadow over the last speck of self-preservation. You were slowly handing yourself over to pleasure, yielding to your fate.

The clear headed Szayelaporro stood before you, back of his hand lightly brushing up against the side of your cheek. “Good girl. Finally becoming my mindless fucktoy?”, he whispered softly. The light touch was enough to make you whimper. Your skin was very sensitive and it sent electrical sparks, awakening every neurological synapse in your body.

“Quit talking! Get that ass over here!”, growled the one who was tied up to the bedpost. He was growing impatient and so was his cock (both growing and becoming impatient).

The one with the glass dildo jammed up his butt stepped forward and grabbed a fistful of your hair. He yanked hard and began to pull you towards the bed, forcing you to straddle the cuffed one’s lap and slide his upright dick into your messy cunt.

Slurp.

Your pussy slurped him in with ease. Your tight muscles grabbed onto his length as if your life depended on it. Because it did. 

The Szayelaporro with free hands (but not a free asshole) guided himself behind you and began to prepare your tight hole. The pressure of the tip of the dildo on his prostate had him shuddering and leaking a steady stream of pre— enough to coat your tight entrance and allow him to slip in with less resistance than otherwise.

What a sight to behold.

And with that thought, the third one with immunity grabbed a chair to entertain himself. Live sensory porn with all the smells and sounds. He took a seat in the ‘splash zone’. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked his length while watching everything unfold.

You rode the one beneath you while the one behind slammed his hips in no particular rhythm. Both were already leaking inside, a messy flow of fluids pooled onto your favorite bed sheets. 

No one said a word. Nothing had to be said. The body did all the talking, fulfilling your deepest darkest request. 

Two dicks simultaneously fucking your holes was now a forbidden fantasy of the past. He caught a glimpse of your kinks through the adult books you read and the fanfictions you were fed. And here you thought he was a self-centered, narcissistic bastard who didn't know you all that well. 

Oh, he knew you well.

He knew your kinks, your desires and your secrets. 

He knew your struggles, your worries and your mental state. 

He read your journals, he saw your colorful art. 

He read each line and he read between those lines. 

He carefully studied your pieces, extrapolated the meaning. 

It pained him. It pained him that he wasn't the cause of your grief. 

To make you forget it all, for at least one day, he made you a mindless slut on your birthday. You had been reduced to a mindless sex addict along with his unhinged clones. 

“Let it all go”, he whispered on the chair, stroking his cock fast while watching you melt between the two bodies without a care in the world.

An hour turned to three, you were still at it with the three. Eventually, the one on the chair decided to join the party and fill your third hole. 

All holes plugged, your muffled moans sounded more like begging. Begging to not stop because if they did, the weight of the world would come crashing. 

Even the immune Szayelaporro, who was mercilessly throat fucking your pretty face, had succumb to pleasure and couldn't stop moving his hips. Balls slapping against your chins, a fist full of your hair to lock you in place.  

The room was filthy. The sounds were even filthier. The smell of sex and cum was sure to seep into the furniture and linger in the air for days to come.

“Fuck”. All three came in unison. You were already twitching, not sure if you were having an orgasm or recovering from the previous one. You lost count. So did they. 

The party continued even though the ‘drug’ wore off an hour ago. Was there even a legit drug to begin with? Or was it just a placebo? Those were questions for you to ponder upon later once you are sound of mind. 

Everyone slowly pulled out of your well used holes with an audible pop and a messy splatter. You collapse on the one below you, his wrists bruised and red from the straining cuffs. 

Once you catch your breath, you reach for the key to free the one beneath you. 

But the key didn't work.

“What the hell?”. You fumbled and tried again.

“The key isn't for the cuff, darling”, one of them explained.

“Then what the fuck is it for?”, you asked. 

Szayelaporro, who was supposedly ‘immune’ the entire time, grabbed your hand by the wrist and placed it on his heartless chest.

“A key to my heart”, he said with a straight face, holding your hand firmly against his chest.

Your eyes soften, your heart skipped a beat. The intense sex marathon you just had didn't break you, but this was about to. 

“Wh…what?”, came your breathless gasp. 

It took a few seconds for the dynamic to shift. The three Szayelaporro gave out a manic cry of laughter. 

“You should have seen your face”, the one holding your hand gave you a cocky and mocking smile.

“Oh fuck off!” you spat.

“I don't think your holes can handle another round of that. But if you insist”. The two were stroking their tired angry cocks again to prepare for the second wind. The third one started grinding his hips from below. 

“Hold on! Stop! Put on the breaks. Tell me what the key is for?” you insisted. Your stubbornness has returned. 

He held your hand again, this time the one holding the key. His face was serious, for real this time.

“A key to the gates of hell. Because that is where I am headed”. He leaned forward to whisper into your ears. “And you are coming with me, my love”.

The key was metaphoric— representing freedom and liberation from this world, from your struggles and from your woes.

“Happy Birthday darling. Times three and no more”. 

Tags: @andy-kuramy @my-my-my @koalaoffandoms @r473n

He's soo silly, I love him sm!

@r473n @villainsrtasty @toxictaicho @darthwhorecrux @koalaoffandoms

The Last Petal

Shunsui x widow reader (Jushiro's wife)

2.5k

Warning and mental health TRIGGERS: Mention of alcohol, angst, reader was Jushiro’s wife, Shunsui taking advantage of vulnerable Reader, no explicit smut but mention of sleeping with Reader while she is confused, ptsd, concussion, confusion, denial, alcohol, alcoholism, despair, depression, mental health, grief, a sad cryptic ending.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

As we sit here under the dancing stars, sharing our last drink, promise me that you will take care of her. That is my last request, my friend. You owe me that much.    — Jushiro 

One month post-war.

You woke up, drenched in sweat and noticed a lumpy warm figure nuzzled beside you. You felt a heaviness in your chest. Although the dark, quiet room brought a sense of calm, the very darkness stirred your anxious soul.

Your husband laid still as if he was catching up on sleep. 

You had a dream. You dreamt of your husband finally breaking free of the curse that was his illness. The curse he never disclosed, even to his wife up until the peak moment of the war. The war that cost him his life and left you a widow. 

Yet, here he laid, on your bed as if the war was nothing but a nightmare, crafted from the trauma that continued to linger. While the dream you just had felt more real, the truth was, you had your realities confused. 

You press your head back down on the pillow, your mind numb and memories hazy. During the war, you had experienced a terrible blow to the head. A concussion that skewed all judgement— you could not think straight. Neither could he.

You closed your eyes, your head was spinning and your ears were ringing. That ringing had never left you, as if it echoed the screams of soldiers consumed by the war. 

From within those screams, a faint sound of snoring comes beside you. Your husband never was the one to snore. He suffered from chronic insomnia because of his illness and he never slept so peacefully. But now that he broke free from the curse, he could rest in peace.

You suffered from short-term memory loss and post-concussion syndrome. Every day felt like a dream as you walked around with a constant headache, tinnitus and tunnel vision. 

Your head was spinning and memories from last night were fragmented, like your heart. Even now, you couldn't tell if you were awake or dreaming. Your brain could not distinguish between the two.

Your body was sore but not because of the injuries you sustained from the war. You felt a warmth between your legs that spread upwards towards your core and up your chest, finally wrapping around your heart and giving it a firm squeeze. Panic was slowly brewing. You clench your chest as if you are grabbing for your racing heart, trying to rip it out of your chest as guilt slowly drains your vigour. Why was there guilt and this overwhelming sense of dread? You didn't do anything wrong. Did you?

With your heart thumping theatrically in your rib cage, you extend out your hand, hoping to feel your fingers glide through his silky but fragile strands of white hair. But alas, your hands grab onto coarse locks of messy loose curls. You could not see the colour because the room was dark. 

You did not need the light to notice the lack of radiance. Your husband's hair had a shine that grabbed you from the darkness and guided you towards the light. The hair you had grasped was dark, thick and dull— just like his heart.

You felt a wave of nausea surge through you like an unstoppable storm. You covered your mouth, finding it impossible to contain that involuntary gasp that stirred up the sleeping man beside you— the man who had claimed the space where your late husband once slept. 

“No! No! No!” came your trembling denial. 

Your brain came up with inexcusable excuses, a desperate desire to justify your current sleeping arrangement.

He must have decided to give me company last night after we visited the graves. Why was I at the cemetery? Whose grave was I visiting? Where is my husband, Jushiro? 

Shunsui sensed the turmoil that disturbed your grieving soul. He woke up, his eyelids heavy with sleep as not much sleep was granted last night. He had a few drinks to numb the sorrow and now his mind was buzzing from the aftermath. He also felt a wave of nausea which he quickly swallowed down as his pride was at stake.

He studied your face in the dark, his night vision a lot sharper than yours. He saw the dreadful shock etched across your face. He shuffled, slowly sitting up, revealing his bare chest glistening with night sweats. It was warm in your room. He was warm. But your husband was always cold. 

Although warm, a shocking chill ran through your sweaty body. The nausea still lingered but there was no rush to get to the nearest bathroom. You slowly grabbed the blanket and pulled it closer to your body and up to your neck. He sat still, his face calm—satisfied, unapologetic. However, he had to choose his words carefully. He understood he was treading on thin ice, and it wouldn’t take much to crack you.

“Good morning, Petal. You look restless. What disturbs your sleep? Another nightmare?” came his soothing but groggy whisper. 

Why did he have to speak? It made this dream all so real.

“Where is my husband?”, you asked, gathering more of the blanket around you to shield yourself.

“Oh my dear, you know where he is. We visited him last night”, he patiently reminded you. He kept a distance between you, hoping you would slowly recall last night's event, sparing him the need to explain his actions. 

“Why are you in my bed? I know this is a dream but still. Please get my husband. Ouch”, you whinced and grabbed your temples when a sharp pain pierced through your skull. These daily ice-pick headaches were relentless, never granting you a moment of ease.

Shunsui reached out with his hand to comfort you, a look of pity in his tired eyes, which even in the dark you could spot that familiar soft gaze. His fingertips barely grazed over the skin of your forearm that tightly clenched onto the blanket to preserve your dignity. You did not hesitate to smack his hand away. 

“My dear. You know exactly where your husband is. Please just settle down”. He tried to comfort your anxious mind but you pushed him away.

You refuse to face reality. “Can you just go”, you begged him with your eyes all the while fighting back tears. You couldn't stand being around him. Yet, you were the one who came to him seeking comfort. 

Shunsui wanted to ease your mind and make you aware that nothing happened last night. Emotions were high and after a couple of drinks, things would have progressed very quickly. Luckily, Shunsui couldn't get it up. And so a crisis was diverted all the while you sobbed in his chest, celebrating the one-month anniversary of the departure of your dear late husband. 

As soon as he opened his mouth to explain last night, you burst into tears. 

“Just get out!” you shouted when he made another attempt to comfort you. 

Shunsui stayed silent. He didn’t want to fracture you any more than you already were.

He got up and gathered his belongings off the floor. He headed towards the bathroom to quickly clean up while you sank back under the blankets, waiting for this nightmare to end.

——

Many of the survivors were reassigned to different squads to help maintain balance (both in power and numbers) within the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. Previously, you were in squad 10. Now you were under the direct watch of the Head Captain himself. He even promoted you so he could casually bump into you more often. Your well-being had concerned him. It had become an unhealthy obsession that even Nanao couldn't ignore.

“Give her some space. You are smothering her”, said the co-lieutenant while dropping a bunch of heavy registers on his desk.

“I can't let her drown in her sorrows”, he replied. While working on the grim task of going through the names of casualties so he could officially register them as deceased, he decided to replace his morning tea with alcohol. That had become his daily morning gloomy routine. 

“It seems the one drowning in sorrow is you”. Nanao didn't pity the man. She knew he was stronger than this. Alcohol was his way of grieving. But as the Head Captain, he did not have the luxury to grieve. 

“Take my advice”, Nanao paused for a second at the door before her departure. “Don't do anything that would have Captain Ukitake turn in his grave”.

Once Nanao left, he reached for a folded parchment that was tucked away neatly in his pants.

“Turn in his grave, you say? I think we are way past that now, Nanao”. 

——-

Later that day, you were spotted outside, sweeping away rubble from fallen buildings. A mindless task for you as you cannot focus on anything else meaningful. Not that cleaning up wasn't meaningful. Everyone had to pitch in and do at least 4 hours of manual labour every day to help restore Seireitei to its former glory. 

With each stroke of your wooden broom, your mind actively wanders to dark places. A pit of despair awaits you and you get pulled in towards the center. You try to scream but the void creates no sound. You are lost in the darkness of it all. Not a single light shines to guide your soul out of the darkness. And as all hope is lost, you notice a small pink flower petal fall towards you. You extend out your hand, trying to grab the single petal that so gracefully dances like a snowflake. And as you close your fist around it, you open your eyes and find yourself holding onto the pink kimono draped around his shoulders. 

“There she is. You had me worried there for a moment, princess. Are you alright?”

You glanced up at him with a glossy gaze, unsure what had transpired. One moment you were sweeping—then suddenly, you were swallowed by darkness.

You let go of his clothes and he grabbed the broom out of your hand. You had zoned out for a few minutes and were inattentively sweeping the same spot over and over again. 

“You shouldn't be doing any physical labour. That is why I gave you an officer’s position”, Shunsui said.

“Regardless of your position, you are still required to pitch in on the efforts to restore the Soul Society. Captains and Head Captains are also not exempt from this civil duty”, you explained, still shaken up from what you had experienced. 

“And the injured are exempt. That includes me”, he joked while pointing to his eye patch, although the man never needed any valid excuse to be lazy.

“I have no physical injuries”, you argued.

“Exactly. No physical injuries that we can see. But your heart is still injured”. He set the broom aside against a giant boulder and took a step towards you. His hand rested under your chin and he ran the padding of his thumb across your quivering bottom lip. “Let me personally tend to that wound”. 

Your body is frozen. His warm touch is comforting and you seek for more. You desperately want to cling to him so you don't fall back down into despair. 

Fortunately, no one was around to witness the shameless display of disloyalty— a betrayal by his best friend and his wife. It was only a matter of time before he captured your lips, your sweet soft lips that pulled him out of his own pit of despair. 

You had no willpower to push him away. Instead, you deepen the kiss by wrapping your arms around his neck to anchor him down. You did not want that petal to be picked up by the wind and blown away.

Both surrender to passion, searching desperately for solace. It is the familiarity that pushes you onwards. You are reminded of the day when you first met him. It was before you met your late husband, Jushiro. 

-flashback-

Once upon a time, a few centuries ago, you had gifted your heart to Shunsui. But then he introduced you to his best friend, Jushiro. Well, one look at the angel had you instantly fall in love. 

Unbeknownst to you, for years, Jushiro felt the guilt of stealing his best friend's woman. But Shunsui played it cool as if you were just another woman and a short fling. You thought the same, given his well-known reputation.

But the truth was, Shunsui never got past you. You stole his heart and shattered it the day you married his best friend. Given Shunsui's calm demeanour, he made it seem like it never bothered him. But Jushiro could see the pain he caused his friend. 

And that last night they spent together under the stars, the crickets played one last song as old friends reminisced over aged sake. Jushiro gave Shunsui a handwritten letter addressed to his wife and also returned the heart he had previously stolen. 

————

Shunsui hands you that letter. You recognize your husband's writing. It wrenches your heart, knowing this was the last message he had for you. 

My dear wife, 

I hope by the time you find this letter, you have finished mourning for me. 

For years, I have hidden this dark secret from my beloved, shielding her from the evil that plagues this world. But now, I can no longer offer her that protection.

And so, I pass on my duty to my dear old friend. But knowing him, he’s likely already made a mess of things. Forgive him, if you can—grace is not his strong suit and his reputation precedes him.

If you must hate anyone, hate me, the man who could not fulfill his duty to protect his wife. Bear no ill will to the man who only wishes to protect his delicate flower. The flower he once plucked but was selfishly stolen from within his tight grasp. He should have held onto that flower tighter. 

And now he shall.

Always keep me in your heart but never let it be a burden.

Your loving husband, 

— Jushiro 

You felt your heart slowly settling. Listening to your husband's poetic words in your head gives you a sense of calmness. But it also made his death more tangible. It was a reminder that he was truly gone from this world and his soul probably began its next journey ahead. 

You reach into your pocket and for a moment he foolishly thought you were about to hand him your house keys.

Instead, you present him with a letter of your own. He quietly reads the words that are not as poetic as your husband's and reopens unseen wounds from the past.

Nevertheless, he ignores the heartache and wears that familiar, deceitful smile. The same nonchalant smile that cost him his love once before.

“Is that what you want, petal?” he confirmed once he read through the letter twice. 

“Yes”. You stood firm in your decision, unmoved by his earlier attempts to charm you.

“Very well. I'll see through it immediately”. 

Your request to be reassigned to your previous squad was approved. 

What you requested was distance and time away from him— both necessary to heal your heart and soul.

But at what cost?

The pink flower, whose delicate petals once saved you from despair, refused to blossom once more. And thus, with time, the flower slowly withers away, leaving wilted grey petals along its path.

Dat jawline! Bruh, stop being soo hawt!! Ur killing us all! 🥵💖

@r473n @villainsrtasty @toxictaicho @darthwhorecrux @j-u-u-z-o @azur3sunsettia @myrottingbrain

long-haired Shinji come back to meeeee

THE WIVES ARE GOING AT IT

beautiful idiot 🥲

oh dear God i'm about to go WIIIIIILLLLLDDD

SHINJI HIRAKO | intro + outro fight cinematic for @shinjihirakos ♡

How about Bleach men reacting to getting motorboated?

Not them having their own face in someone's chest, but their partner shoving their face into their man's chest? Especially Shunsui and Kisuke, as their tits are out at all times(I just want to go brrrrrrr)

Thank you! You're amazing! ❤️

A/N: Your ask reminds me of TYBW when Kisuke and Shunsui were subconsciously revealing more of their chest as the episodes went by. They were serving us 🤤.

Laughs and goes along with it — They’d find it amusing and wouldn’t mind indulging you, either letting you do your thing or some might even pushing your face in deeper just to mess with you. Might tease you about it afterward.

— Shunsui, Jushiro, Kisuke, Shinji, Zaraki, Askin, Bazz-B, Grimmjow, Starrk

Mildly confused but unbothered — They’d blink in surprise, few might mutter a confused “what the hell?” but wouldn’t push you away. They might shake their head at you afterward but won’t make a big deal out of it.

— Aizen, Gin, Renji, Hisagi, Kira, Ichigo

Immediately suspicious and slightly annoyed — Their first instinct would be, Why? They wouldn’t react aggressively, but they’d fix you with an unimpressed stare and probably tell you to stop with varying degrees of irritation. Which ruins the fun 🥲

— Ryuken, Toshiro (Adult), Byakuya, Jugram, Yhwach, Uryu, Ulquiorra

One of the reasons I fell so hard for Szayel wayyyy back when was because of his crazy ass abilities. Specifically his voodoo dolls. It stands to reason that he’d make one of his little assistant. He’d be such a fucking menace with it. ;)

✗ ▬ ❱❱ Ａｆｔｅｒ Ｌｉｆｅ

Szayelaporro x Reader

3k

✗ Warning: Smut. nsfw. Modern Corporate au. Our Szayel is a warning of itself. Proceed with caution.

✗ a/n: @saltychonk I know how much you love those dolls. Hope you enjoy this, or at least it brings a small smile to your face! ❤️ This is my modern-day twist on his abilities.

“Fuck!” 

You spilled some hot coffee on yourself again. Luckily, the waterproof fabric of your lab coat prevented a third-degree burn, and all you had to worry about was the mess you made in the lunchroom.

Yes, blame it on your unexplained spastic muscle movements that for some reason triggered after you joined the company three months ago. You attributed it to the possible chemical fumes you are constantly inhaling or maybe the 5 cups of coffee you consumed to get through the day. 

Nonetheless, these ‘clumsy’ moments were getting worse. Not just with coffee. You've caught yourself from falling several times as your legs threatened to give out on you. How about the time when you almost walked into a wall? Fortunately, nothing terrible has happened while handling dangerous chemicals or conducting research. Staying laser-focused on a task seemed to have done you well. But as soon as you left your work station, you left a trail of minor disasters behind you.

A visit to the doctor was useless. Nothing showed up in the blood work and nerve studies. The doctor guessed it was probably Tourette’s, brushing you off as soon as they slapped on that diagnosis. And so you didn't think much of it. As long as your work wasn't compromised, you would gladly accept the challenge and take it one day at a time. The pay and benefits were too good to make a huge fuss over it. 

Speaking of work…

Today was the day. Your three-month probation was up, and you had your performance review set up. Hopefully, your little mishaps will not be taken into consideration. You promised them you were healthy! Well, at least physically healthy. 

You sat in an empty office— the CEO’s office. You only met the mysterious man once during your initial interview. He didn't talk much and only observed you from a distance while the other two interviewers grilled you with questions. 

You hated interviews, and you definitely thought you bombed it. It was a pleasant surprise when you got your offer letter. The three months sure flew by.

Anyway, back to the CEO. He still hadn’t arrived, so you waited patiently, trying to piece together his personality by judging his furniture. It was blatantly obvious he was a minimalist. Nothing really stood out in his office—just a plain, boring canvas that could’ve used a splash of color. Everything was spotless—nothing out of line, screaming perfectionist. The room smelled like Lysol wipes and freshly squeezed lemons, a sterile kind of clean that cleared up your sinuses.

You heard footsteps. Your heart began to race as you glanced over your shoulder towards the open door. The CEO himself was the first to enter, instantly bringing color to the room. His pink hair stood out, bright enough to make the dull space feel a little more alive and almost welcoming.

He wasn't alone– two other men accompanied him. They were shareholders in his pharmaceutical empire and, therefore, had a say in the matter of your future employment.

He sat down, and the other two grabbed rolling office chairs and dragged them towards him. With him in the centre, your eyes were all over him. 

Again, he did not participate. He just quietly observed from across the desk, one hand stuffed in the pockets of his lab coat, and his other hand tapping so gently on the desk to intentionally distract you. Well, the finger tapping was the least of your worries. 

Your body felt off. A wave of silent heat suddenly enveloped your body, stirring something deeper than a sweat. Your nerves were tickled— your body twitched in places that were not (yet) visible. There was a steady pulse throbbing between your legs. 

You pressed your legs together, the heat growing, along with a pool of dampness. You clenched your pelvic floor muscles, trying to fight off an unwanted and unexpected arousal. What was happening to your body?

You were distracted. The two shareholders continued to talk about your performance, their voices a distant murmur, muffled and warped like echoes underwater. Their words slipped past you, lost in the haze clouding your mind. Luckily, they did not ask you any questions and said their part before turning to face the boss, the CEO, the man who had the final say, Szayelaporro.

You clenched your jaw, and your body was starting to tremble slightly. The arousal was growing. Your bundle of nerves were being teased by something invisible. You would take a clumsy fall any day over this humiliation.

When it came time for the CEO to say his piece, the strange feeling quickly disappeared. Just as you were about to reach your peak, his voice, sultry yet malicious, pulled you out of your anticlimactic daze. 

“Are you alright? You look rather…clammy. Nervous?”, he asked, staring directly into your eyes.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but quickly fixed your posture, ignoring the dewy folds you sat on. “I am fine, thank you”.

“Well, based on your performance, we think you are useful to me and we have decided to keep you.” He paused for a second to give you a chance to react. As soon as your lips curled into an excited smile, he continued, “But there is one last test I have to put you through. Are you prepared for that?”.

“Of course!”, you replied eagerly. You foolishly thought it would be some written test.

The two other men got up to leave the room, and once the door closed behind them, Szayelaporro pushed his hands back into the deep pockets of his lab coat. He stood up and turned his back against you to look out the window. 

“When will I be taking this test?”, you asked, starting to squirm a little in your chair.

Szayelaporro tilted his head to the side, a grin slowly spreading from cheek to cheek that you could not see. 

Your eyes jolted wide open, your knees stiffened, and you threw your head back. A low, raspy moan escaped your lips.

“Now”, you heard him say between the blissful waves of pleasure that were crawling up your body. That feeling had returned, but it was far more intense than before. 

You were tense and sweating, soft lips pitted ever so slightly from the impression of your teeth. Vision became blurry with your tears and you had lost yourself in that moment. The world around you dimmed, muffled, as if drowning underwater. All that remained was the pounding of your heart and throbbing of your sex.

“Getting aroused at a time like this? How very inconvenient”. 

His muffled voice echoed into your ears, louder than before, as if he were standing right beside you. It pierced through the haze, pulling you back just enough to realize that he was, in fact, standing right beside you.

That sensation had disappeared once more, toying with your emotions and worse, your sanity. You want to burst into tears and run out of the room. However, your legs felt heavy and your body limp, like a doll. 

You decided to focus your attention back to the CEO; his bright pink hair seemed to have lured you out of that growing despair. He leaned casually against the desk directly in front of you. He was so close, you could smell his citrus cologne. 

He was smiling. 

Was he getting a kick out of your misery? Was he aware of what demon possibly possessed you? You did not believe in spirits, but you were ready to call for an exorcist.

“No. Period cramps”, you lied, leaning forward to exaggerate the discomfort in your belly. It wasn’t a complete lie. You did feel discomfort and ‘cramps’ in your pelvic area.

“Oh? Would you like me to rub your belly?”, he suddenly offered.

You looked up at him, wondering if that was the ‘test’. 

“No, I’ll be fine, thank you”. 

His hands were still in his pockets, digging for ‘treasure’. That mischievous grin did not leave his beautifully contoured face. 

“I do have to say, I am surprised by the lie you chose to tell. You are nowhere near your period. In fact, you are close to ovulation, if anything”. And he said all that as if it was normal to know such intimate details about a random person’s menstrual cycle. So nonchalant and matter-of-fact kind of way. 

“Oh, don’t look so shocked. You gave us your blood sample when you applied for this job”, he created another suspenseful pause. “And no, you do not suffer from a neurological disease. I have simply been ‘toying’ with you”.

“What?” You are confused and stunned, unable to comprehend what he just said. It was otherworldly magic he spoke of.

Szayelaporro finally removed his hands from his pockets to reveal his little secret. You squint your eyes to make out the details. Once your dilated pupils took it all in, your eyes snapped wide open, shock paralyzing you.

He was holding a small doll that looked very much like you. The facial details and even the clothing matched your description.

“What the hell is that!?”, you asked, intimidated but brave enough to snap at him.

“Oh? A doll”, he replied, offering no further emphasis or explanation. 

“No! I mean, why the hell does it look like me?” 

“Oh? Does it?” He held the mini-you doll up to his face and examined it closely. He looked back at you and smiled. “Well, what a coincidence. Clearly, whoever made this has good taste”.

He shook the doll gently, and you heard some rattling come from within. You felt nauseous, your lunch threatening to make an escape.

He popped the head open and he pulled out what seemed to be a tiny ….. uterus. You saw a display of other tiny organs dancing within the cavity of the doll. He had no interest in the rest. Crushing his opponent’s organs is how he landed at the top of his industry. With you, he had other plans. 

You think it’s a kid's learning toy. However, he quickly proved you wrong. 

The little piece danced between his fingertips, your eyes carefully following it, unsure of what was even happening. 

Without a thought, he dragged his unusually long tongue along the surfaces of the tiny piece. You felt something scrape along the inside of your uterus. 

“What the…!!!!.”

He stopped, so did the sensation.

And if you still hadn't made that association, he tried it again. 

“Stop!” you begged, watching him flick his tongue along the mini-uterus. Apparently, it represented your uterus. 

“So you’ve figured it out?”

Your insides are cramping in a strange way. Your panties are damp and he could smell your arousal. 

“How the hell are you doing this? Magic!?” Absurd for a scientist like yourself to believe in magic.

“Magic? No, my dear, this is … let’s say a gift from my previous life”, he tried to explain, but it was no better than the ‘magic’ logic.

“So you’ve been…manipulating me all this time? All those falls and accidents? It was because of that?” You pointed towards your doll, the head was still popped open, your insides exposed.

He screwed your head back on and tucked the doll back inside the pockets of his lap coat. “Maybe. Maybe not. But don’t you worry your pretty little head. I will never harm your little doll”.

Harm?!

With that little piece of organ rolling between his thumb and index finger, he brought it up towards his lips, and you expected him to give it another lick. You brace for the worst. 

Instead, his long tongue crept out between his lips and scooped up the toy piece. It slithered back into his mouth, the little trinket tucked away like a prize.

By now, you’d put two and two together—he could manipulate your body using that little mini-you doll. You assumed that crushing it would kill you. But what about eating pieces of your organs? What kind of twisted plan did this cannibal have in mind?

“Confused? Don't be. If you can pass my next test, the job is yours”, he explained. He sat on the desk, one leg crossed over the other, quietly observing how you and your body responded to his twisted scheme.

It was only a matter of time before the ‘spell’ took full hold. Whatever he had done, it was far worse than anything you’d endured up to this point.

Your skin felt prickly and sensitive, even your clothes felt like a burden. That sensation travelled down your body, leaving a trail of perspiration and shivers until that feeling finally settled between your legs. 

You pressed your thighs together, seeking friction to scratch that itch, the growing dampness adding to the irritation. Not that you had any experience, but it felt like you had downed a bottle of aphrodisiacs. You had become like an animal in heat. 

He continued to watch with a smug look on his face, his plan finally coming to fruition. You wanted to bolt out of the room, far away from him, but your legs were dead weight. Besides, you could not walk the hallways in your current condition. 

“Need some help?”, he offered.

Silence was denial. You bit your tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction he craved. 

“Stubbornness doesn't quite suit you. I have the antidote to your problem. All you have to do is ask nicely”. Either way, he didn't mind what path you chose. It was entertaining to watch you struggle.

Antidote? There was a remedy to your problem? A problem he created!

You forced down what little pride you had left and rested your hand on his knee.

“Please…”

“Please what? Be more specific”. Oh, he was certainly testing you-- testing your patience.

“Please, give me that antidote”, you tried again.

He jumped off the table and grabbed your hand. He peeled you off the cushioned chair and kicked the rolling chair out of the way. Slowly creeping his way behind you, he placed his pointy chin onto your right shoulder. 

“I thought you’d never ask”, he whispered. 

This was not the antidote you expected. 

He pushed you forward, your chest landed flat on the table. His hands moved around your waist, undoing your pants and lowering them as if it were the normal thing to do. 

“What the hell kind of antidote is that? A suppository?” You didn't squirm. You didn't fight him. You had no willpower to do so. Whatever he had to offer, you would gladly take it just to get rid of the discomfort. 

“Exactly”. His chuckle went unnoticed. 

He shuffled around behind you. He took off his belt and tossed it on the desk, just barely missing your face. The sharp sound of zipper tearing its way down echoed in the room. Your instinctive reaction to that sound was to clench from below. 

There was some pressure-- something hard, rounded and smooth was poking you, trying to pry open your wet folds.

“Ease up. You will choke the precious antidote before it even enters your body”. His tone was a touch softer than before— just enough to fool you into lowering your guard. And you handed over your trust, as if it held no value anymore. 

You trusted him to take care of your problem. 

And take care he did.

“That’s it. Open up wide and take your..…medicine”, he slammed his hips forward, rocking your world.

Your vision went white. It stunned you for a few seconds, your walls pulsating around his intruding length. He did not give you a moment of peace, no time to acclimate, hips slapping to a very calculated rhythm. 

He knew your insides from the inside out. 

But how? How was he hitting the sweet spots so easily without any exploration? How did he map out your insides without ever being inside? 

You did not complain. You were a moaning, drooling and slippery oozing mess. The antidote was working now that you had something to clamp down on. 

With your arousal building and on the verge of popping, you reached behind and placed your hand on his thigh. He didn't think much of it. His focus was on pounding the antidote of a dick inside you.

He could feel your hand creep up towards the pockets of his lab coat. He knew what you were fishing for. 

You snatched the doll from his pocket and clutched it tightly. As you rested your hand back towards your head, he leaned over you, his hand settling gently on top of yours—the one gripping the doll.

“I have no use for that anymore. You are now part of me. We are contractually bound for all eternity. In this life and in the next. You will not be able to escape me so easily, my darling”, he whispered into your ear, his hips locked into you, pumping you full of thick seed while casually carrying on with his conversation.

The fact that he just dumped a hefty load inside your fertile womb didn't faze you. What alarmed you the most were his words.

They were familiar. Nostalgic. 

Nonsense. That would mean you’ve met this man before—but how could you forget such an eccentric character?

It defies all scientific logic. And yet… could there be a slight chance you shared a bond with this man in a previous life?

Images of sand dunes and a giant fortress in the middle of a barren desert flashed before your eyes as you reached climax. His hand was teasing out your orgasm, vigorously rubbing your clit so you don't fall behind. 

“Cum for me, my human pet. Let it all unravel…your desires, your past and your future”.