💜✨send This To Ten Other Bloggers That You Think Are Wonderful. Keep The Game Going, Make Someone

confession: the thought of aizen being extremely needy in the morning makes my loins froth

nsfw.

He quietly pushes your panties to the side and presses the tip of his leaky morning wood against your folds. Just the smooth head slips in but it has you stir in your sleep and push away— sliding him back out and turning away with your back against him.

He gives you a moment to settle back into your slumber before spooning you from behind. He tries again and this time it was a successful invasion.

You finally feel something slip inside your walls and your eyes snap open in shock. The tender kisses along your bare arms soothe your racing heart.

“Good morning dear”, he whispers while giving you another minute before he began moving his hips.

“Sosuke! My love. It’s very early”, you moaned, both in annoyance and in pleasure.

“Love is not bound to time, my dear”, he replied while picking up the pace from behind.

“Sosuke. Let me have another hour of rest. I’m very tired”, you begged, but your begging was not convincing enough.

“And I have grown tired waiting for you. Let me have what is mine”. He was not going to let you sleep until he came inside you twice.

And once he did fill you up, you became restless instead.

“Another round my dear?”, he suggested, his cock already halfway there.

This is a part II to this fic. Without further ado...GIRLDAD!Shinji !!!!

A special shout out to @villainsrtasty for the pigtail's idea!

With your daughter taking up space in your home now, your son was going through a clingy phase, making grabby hands and whining for you constantly, desperate to be the baby again. In the past, Shinji would pout and grumble something about your son favoring you over him, complaining that he was such a "momma's boy," and that he was basically chopped liver in comparison, but now that your daughter had been born, she kept Shinji's hands full. He hardly had time to complain about your son's neediness when your daughter was all over him every waking hour, and he loved every second of it.

It was obvious from the beginning that she was meant to have a special relationship with your husband, the daughter he so badly wanted, and now she was here. In a room full of people, her little eyes would dart about, searching for him, a smile spreading on her face only when she found him. She clung to him the same way your son did to you, curling the fabric of his clothes in her tiny fingers or plopping down in his lap with a book in hand, a silent command that he read to her. Shinji did any and everything she requested of him. It made you proud, the way she had him wrapped around her little finger. She hadn't even been able to talk yet and he still always understood exactly what she wanted and got it to her without hesitation, better than even you could. She was so young, so new to the world, and already spoiled, sure to be trouble the older she got. 

There was also Shinji’s protectiveness, and a new special kind that developed, reserved for her and her only. Jokingly, or maybe not so jokingly, when another baby boy shared toys with her and she followed him everywhere he went, Shinji lectured her on the way home, as if she could understand. “No, no boyfriends. Yer mine for life.”

“What do you mean?” You’d tease him. “That’s my little heartbreaker. Her and I are gonna get all done up and go out clubbing when she’s old enough. She’s going to be my party girl partner in crime…”

“No way!” He’d whine. “The both of ya stay home with me. The day some slimeball gets to her and tries to take advantage of my baby girl...” He didn’t need to finish his thought, the hint of the threat in his narrowed eyes. 

“So when some idiot’s approaching her with some corny ass pickup line…?” You side-eyed him, also with no need to finish the thought. 

“If he’s as handsome and charismatic as me, then maybe I’ll consider letting it slide.” He grinned smugly.

On one of the better nights, your son was napping upstairs, and your daughter was wound for sound, giggling wildly as she made attempts to pull your husband's blonde hair into pigtails. The more he made noises of protests and "ouch!"'s, the more amusing she found it. Though it was at the expense of his comfort, her laughter was one of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard, and you were sure he agreed, hence why he endured the pain. You seared the sound into your brain, pulling your phone out to capture a short video of the moment to keep forever, smiling distantly as you watched her tangle her hands into his bangs. 

"She's kind of hurting me," he chuckled to you. You tucked your phone away and moved to grab her, with other ideas to keep her entertained, but he put a hand up to stop you, looking appalled that you would even think to take her from him. "Not so fast. She thinks it's funny."

You laughed and shook your head, watching as only moments later she tugged on his blonde tufts so hard she jerked his head down. You intervened despite the fact that he'd let her rip his hair out if she so desired. You weren't sure what it was about your husband that made him have such a history of getting beat on by small girls, snickering to yourself as you thought of how funny Hiyori would find your daughter’s antics. 

She tried to pry your hands off of her hips as you pulled her away, but you held tight, pulling her into your chest. "You like hurting Daddy, do you?" You asked her, tickling her stomach and making her giggle again, squirming in your hold.

Meanwhile, Shinji had busied himself with pulling his hair into the ponytails she wanted to see, excitedly showing her the two small sprouts of blonde on the sides of his head when he was done. "You want matching ones, girly?" He offered her, ignoring your teasing giggles as you admired his silly appearance. Anything for his girl. 

She squealed and laughed and climbed into his lap eagerly, turning her little head this way and that as she impatiently awaited for him to style her hair. He gently combed it away from her face with his fingers and gathered what he could into two little pigtails. They were tiny, her hair barely fitting into them, but it was only a matter of time until it'd be longer, and you were certain Shinji would be fashioning it into unique styles for her every day. 

She curiously reached for her head to feel for her father's creation, only to yank them out, grinning proudly and looking for her father's adverse reaction. 

Shinji sighed. "Brat." 

He couldn’t stay mad at her for long, an affectionate smile spreading on his lips, gathering her in his arms and pulling her tightly into his chest, tickling her the way you had moments earlier. Even as her flailing arms and legs delivered blows to his body, he remained unfazed, peppering her tiny head and face with loud, dramatic smooches. It was obvious to anyone, but to you most of all, how in love he was. It made you snort, his pigtails and his clinginess and his doting, how someone so dangerous and deadly could also be the goofiest and the softest. It made your heart swell too, the father of your children, and what an amazing father he was. 

On one of the not-so-good nights, it was still evident to you how much and how hard he loved his girls. Sickness frequently paid a visit to your household with the two little germs running rampant, and a particularly vicious flu had struck when Shinji was at his busiest. He managed to avoid the plague, gone for long hours due to the demands of the Soul Society, and you were left to bear the brunt of it. Just as your son’s condition was starting to improve, the virus invaded yours and your daughter’s systems at the same time. 

Feeling deathly ill and weaker than ever, you had no choice but to rise from your bed, to fend off the nausea and fight through the fever and chills to take care of your daughter who was suffering just the same, all while handling your son as well. As a mother, you had learned to make sacrifices for your children’s wellbeing and had grown accustomed to it, but this challenged and broke you down in a way you hadn’t experienced before. It got worse before it got better, and you had no idea how you were managing, sleepwalking through each moment. You couldn’t eat, could hardly sleep, and were constantly on the verge of vomiting and/or collapsing, but you were forced to soldier through it for them, hiding from Shinji just how sick you were knowing that he had his own matters to handle.

He hadn’t returned home until late that night when your daughter was crying incessantly, the poor thing tortured by a slew of symptoms that seemed to not want to go away despite your many remedies, and you were trying but failing not to cry with her. 

Her tiny, fragile body in so much pain, she went back and forth between pushing you away from her and grabbing onto you, wanting to be cuddled, but frustrated that it was not solving all of her problems. Snot and tears shined on her face as she wept intensely. You had become hopeless, sharing both her physical and emotional pain. Shivering, wrapping around her tightly, you sobbed with her, telling her that you were sorry and pressing your lips to her burning forehead. 

If you could, you would take all of her heat, all of her chills, all of her upset stomach, and all of her boogers, even if it meant doubling your own suffering. You’d do it just so you didn’t have to hear the heartbreaking sound of her anguish, of your failure to help her. But alas, you were just as beaten down as her, and simultaneously wishing that you could be her size and her age again, crawling into someone’s lap and having them hold and comfort you and tell you that it would all be okay again soon. 

Shinji walked in on the two of you in hysterics, your son playing with toys nearby, watching the scene unfold from a place of innocent curiosity. Your daughter was wailing so hard, she hadn’t even noticed that her savior had returned. With a deep frown, your husband instantly took her from you, and she melted into him, tucking her runny nose into his robes as he caressed her hair and back, shushing her and cooing to her and rocking her to sleep. 

On cue, your son stumbled over to you, getting into your lap now that your hands were free. You snuggled him into you desperately, your sweet little guy, subduing your sobs so that your sick daughter could have peace. Shinji threw you a concerned look as he did everything he could to console your daughter, not stopping until she was drifting off in his protective embrace, just the medicine she needed.

When there were tiny snores escaping her stuffy nose, he disappeared to ease her into her crib, returning quickly to remedy you next. Your son didn’t make much of a fuss when Shinji pulled him from you, knowing that his mother wasn’t herself right now. Your husband reached for your forehead, brows furrowing as he felt the immense heat radiating from your skin, though he didn’t need to confirm your fever to clock that you were ill. The sight of your pale skin, glassy eyes, and hunched, shaky body were evidence enough. 

“Why didn’t ya call me?” He asked softly, wiping stray tears from your cheeks. In his lap, your son observed, his large round eyes looking up at you as if he wanted an answer too. 

“I didn’t want you to worry,” your voice broke. “I thought I could handle it on my own, but I feel so bad, Shinji.” Tears threatened to spill again, and you didn’t hesitate to curl into his free arm, just as clingy and needy as your daughter had been. “I can’t do this.”

“If I had known you were this sick, I never would have left ya here alone with them,” he said sternly. “You need to rest, sweetheart.”

“Don’t cry, Ma Ma,” your son chimed in. 

It tore through your heart. You reached for him, hugging Shinji with him sandwiched in between. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m okay.”

“Come on.” Your husband gently tugged the back of your shirt before rising, pulling you up with him while he balanced his son in one arm. “Let’s get ya to bed too.”

“But-” you started to protest, throwing your son a worried glance. 

“No buts,” Shinji interjected. “We need a guys night anyway.” He looked towards his son, managing half a grin before placing a hand on your lower back, gently nudging you forward. “C’mon.”

After letting him feed you medicine and tuck you in, the last thing you saw before entering a night full of broken sleep, strange dreams, and fevered hallucinations was your husband’s fleeting silhouette, your son on his hip. You never fully woke, but throughout the night, Shinji was in and out of your bed, sometimes with your son, sometimes with your daughter, sometimes with both. When your eyes peeled open again, early in the morning before the sun had even risen, all three of them were tangled in the sheets, your son nuzzled into your chest, and your daughter on the other side of him, poking Shinji awake. 

You jolted upwards at the sight of his sleeping figure, head spinning, sweat clinging to every part of your body, your mind not quite all there at this hour. Your poor son jerked awake at your side, the whole room coming back to consciousness at once.

“Aren’t you late?!” You gasped at your husband. 

“What?” He asked groggily, turning onto his side and wrapping an arm around his daughter in one swift motion. She laughed at him, clearly in higher spirits than she was last night, as he squinted at you.

“For work,” you fretted. “Don’t you need to be at the barracks?”

 “Momo’s gonna take care of things,” he informed you hoarsely, letting his eyes flutter closed again. “I’m staying here today.”

“Oh.” You sunk back down into bed as your son clawed at you, trying to pull you back into your previous position, though you thought there was no way you were going to get back to sleep now, not with how sweaty you were.

“How are ya feeling?” Shinji asked you as his daughter crawled around, attempting to play peekaboo with the blankets. “Cause’ this one seems to be doing better…” He nodded towards her with a lazy smile.

“Better.” You wiped your forehead. “Seems like my fever broke, at least for now.”

“Mmm, that’s good,” he hummed. “My poor girls.” He pouted, launching into a rant. “I’m so sad. Her nose is so stuffy.” He looked to his daughter, his fingers cradling her head. “Do you know how annoying a stuffy nose is? And my baby has to have one? This world can be so cruel!”

“You’re gonna get it next,” you huffed a laugh at his dramatics. “All cozy with her snot all over you.” 

“Nah, I don’t get sick,” he assured with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes. “We’ll see.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled. “It’s worth it. I’d do anything for her,” he said seriously.

“I know you would,” you cooed, mindlessly finding your son’s back to rub soothing circles into.

Knowing that Shinji was back now, and you were safe, that you weren’t alone in this, it made your body soften with content, falling back into a drowsy state. Without realizing it, as you soothed your son, you were self-soothing too. With the four of you pressed together soundly, you could relax. You could take care of your little family and allow yourself to be taken care of too.

“Thank you,” you mumbled to your husband as your eyes fell shut again. “For taking care of us, for taking care of me. Thank you for staying.”

He responded, “I love you,” in an explanatory tone, in a way that said I need no thanks, I’m not doing this for thanks. His words from earlier pierced through your head again, “I’d do anything for her.” 

You drifted off again with a smile on your lips, no more strange nightmares to be had when you were surrounded by so much love. “I love you too, Daddy.”

Of course, Shinji did eventually end up getting sick. There was no way of avoiding it, not with how he was glued to you and your daughter until the both of you got better. 

You took care of him with the same tenderness he had, nursing him back to health as you continued to juggle your children with your energy somewhat restored. Your daughter, his little best friend, knew there was something wrong with her father, and as he spent most of the day in bed, she was there with him, snuggling into his chest or pressing a cold cloth to his head with no idea what she was doing but watching you do the same, so it must have been something helpful. She even offered him her comfort stuffed animal, a serious token of affection as she wouldn’t ever allow anyone else to have it. Shinji accepted it graciously, cuddling it tightly when she wasn’t there. You snapped a sneaky picture of him sound asleep, the stuffed creature tucked under his arm, and made it your new home screen wallpaper, your babies already taking up your lock screen. Now you had the whole collection.

When he was better again, heading back to resume his duties as a Captain, your daughter wailed after him, crying for her “Dada,” having been spoiled to have his presence around so much. He himself seemed to be on the verge of tears, apologizing profusely and promising his sweetheart that he’d be back again for her later. You tried to tell her that you’d still be around, but she didn’t seem interested.

You shared an exasperated look with him, knowing that you were going to have to deal with her crying and missing him until she was distracted by something else. “Who’s chopped liver now?” You laughed.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “She’s a Daddy’s girl.”

Indeed, she was, and you knew deep down that there was no other way for your little family to be. 

Tags: @tomitsulikeslemons @eleftheria93

Mentally I am in the Clover Kingdom

Credits for clips:

Kenji_senpaii09 on YouTube

Akazahk Twixtor on YouTube

Animeclipx_ on YouTube

Based on this beautiful request from my sister wife @tomitsulikeslemons <3

Another Friday night had come and gone. It was sometime past one in the morning, the dance floor packed, vibrating with hip hop music, and colorful lights weaved through the sea of sweaty, intoxicated bodies. You and your friends had wriggled your way out of the crowd, off to have one last drink, though none of you needed it. That was evident in the way you sauntered through the stuffy air carelessly, a slant in your step, every thought, thing, person, scenario funnier than it really was, reality viewed through a different lens. By the way your friends talked and acted you knew they shared your state of mind, the trio of you fueled off one another. 

What you didn't share with them was your desire to leave this place. Dancing to the latest hits was fun for a while, but your heart craved something else. All night you'd longed for a change of scenery, a specific place in mind. Most of the bars would be closing soon. You'd shied away from bringing it up all night, but halfway through what was supposed to be your final drink, it became now-or-never.

"We should go to the jazz bar!" you announced, beaming excitedly to hide the embarrassed blush coating your cheeks. 

As expected, you were immediately met with resistance, both of your friends giving you eye rolls, exhausted groans and disapproving shakes of the head. 

"Seriously?!" One of them grumbled, unafraid to give it to you straight. "That place is sooo dead. Every time we go there it makes me want to fall asleep," she voiced dramatically. Your other friend nodded her agreement, taking a long, tired sip from her drink. 

"It's romantic and luxurious," you countered. "You just don't know how to appreciate good music." It was your turn to take a long sip now, glancing to the side and raising your eyebrows over your glass. 

"HEY!" She shouted while your other friend simultaneously accused, "oh, please, we all know you're not going for the music."

"Yes I am!" You whined defensively, though you understood immediately what she meant, especially by the shit-eating grin spreading on her face. 

"That's right," your other friend giggled, catching on, the two of them exchanging devious glances. "You only got into jazz because you want the owner's PICKLE!" She chanted the last bit, cupping her hands around her mouth for the whole club to hear, or at least those nearby. 

"It’s not true!" You hissed. "Maybe I just like going somewhere where random men aren't constantly trying to get behind me like dogs!" You took another drink from your glass, nervously chugging.

"Yeah, yeah, none of them can compare to your little jazz boyfriend, we know," your friend snorted. The other joined in her laughter, the two of them like goofy, taunting hyenas. 

"I'm - I can't - that's not even remotely true," you stammered, repeating yourself, crossing your arms over your chest, looking all too interested at the contents in your glass. 

"She's blushing!" They pointed at and prodded your cheeks. 

"My cheeks always get red when I drink!" You snapped back, swatting their hands away. 

"Okay, okay," your friend giggled, waving her hand dismissively to get you to calm down. "We'll go with you."

"Really?" 

"If," she paused for effect, "you admit you want to get the mario coins knocked out of you by the owner."

"You're insane,” you scoffed and shook your head.

"No, you are,” your other friend jumped back in. “We're your best friends! You can tell us! We make great wing women." She grinned and nudged your other friend.

"You do not-"

You were interrupted by her beginning to mock you, words you would never say, altering her voice to sound high-pitched and damsel-in-distress-y, “you’re the only one who truly understands music, Daddy!”

“Let’s listen to some of your jazz while we fuck!” Your other friend naturally went along. 

They carried on, one of them moaning and tossing her hair while the other sang a classic jazz song in a deep, cartoony voice. A group of men nearby started to look over, curious at the spectacle. It was then that you clapped your hands over each of their mouths, silencing their torment.

One of them licked your hand, causing you to recoil. "Sorry,” she giggled. “We're done."

"Well, I'm not interested in going anymore,” you pouted. 

"Don't be so stubborn,” your friend said, taking a quick sip of her drink and stirring the ice around. “Let me finish my drink. Then we can go see your man," she promised.

Your pout twitched, etching into a smile while your other friend winked at you and began to chug her glass. 

Not much later, the three of you took to the streets, staggering along to the jazz bar you adored so much. With each step you found yourself turning inward, getting in your head about your appearance and your general vibe. You hoped your makeup and hair didn’t look too run-down from the night’s activities, or that it wasn’t too obvious in your heavily-lidded eyes that you were far from sober. You even found yourself smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in your long, elegant dress, a piece you had picked out with the intention of ending up here later tonight. The closer you got to your destination, the more you attempted to straighten out, to walk more gracefully and practice opening lines in your mind. Your anxious thoughts only ceased when your trio clicked up to the bouncer, arms interlocked, no need to show him your IDs. You were familiar faces at this establishment after all. 

But then, he wasn’t stepping aside, didn’t lift the velvet rope and gesture you in as he normally did with a “welcome back, ladies.” He stood firm with his hands clasped, forcing a practiced frown as he said instead, "sorry ladies. We're closing up in about fifteen minutes. Can't come in."

Your heart sank. Dramatic as it was, you felt your night had been wholly ruined by this piece of information, by this denied entry. Your friends watched your enthusiastic expression fall, and one of them broke from the group immediately, clacking forward with an aggressive, steely look in her eyes that you knew all too well. 

"So? Let us in for fifteen minutes," she demanded, hands on her hips and chest puffed out. 

The bouncer towered over her, unmoving. "We can't.” He shrugged carelessly. “The doors are shut."

His resolute words made you deflate even more, but further provoked your feisty friend. "Seriously?” She shifted her weight onto one leg, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her heel against the concrete. “Where's the owner? I want him to tell us."

"No, no.” You tugged at her elbow, disconcerted by the prospect of bothering him. You pulled her back into line with you and your other friend. “It's fine. We'll go," you said decisively, not wanting to start conflict at his bar.

"Uh, no we won't.” Once she had a mission in mind, she didn’t back down. She raised a manicured pointer finger in the air. “I didn't walk all the way here to get turned away. We come here all the time, and many of those times we were here past two am! Is this how you treat valued customers?!"

The bouncer still didn’t seem to want to budge, looking bored with the three of you. He rolled his neck this way and that while your friend snapped at him, his mind likely only halfway here. It only added to your humiliation, had you angling your feet in the opposite direction, trying to nudge your friends away, but they weren’t conceding. 

"Yeah, c'mon dude, seriously,” your other friend joined in the fray. “Three young things like us?” She gestured between the three of you. “You need us in there."

"Maybe when we opened several hours ago,” he opposed, letting the slightest bit of irritation slip into his tone before regaining his composure. “I really am sorry, girls, but it's policy."

"Policy? Policy?!” That made your temperamental friend explode, her arms flailing about in the air between them. “What are you, the goddamn police?!"

"It's okay!” You pulled her back again, panicked. This had already escalated too far. “We can come another night! No big deal!” You offered a sheepish, crooked smile to the bouncer, chuckling nervously as you attempted to steer your trio away for the last time. “Sorry for the trouble."

"No!” Your friend frowned, stomping her foot childishly, not yet ready to accept defeat. “You were excited! We're not leaving!"

You sighed, exasperated and uncomfortable with so much confrontation at a place you loved so much. "I'm telling you it's-"

"Is there a problem here?" 

The four of you followed the familiar voice, like deers in headlights, peering up at the owner as he stood at the top of the stairs in front of the entrance in a wide stance, eyes narrowed down at the group of you. 

You froze at the sight of him, breath catching in your throat. 

Shinji.

"No, no boss,” the bouncer scrambled to explain, sounding much less indifferent than he had moments ago. The large man turned small in Shinji’s presence, not so tough now. “Just telling these ladies we'll be closing up soon."

His narrowed gaze slid smoothly from his employee over to the three of you. When his eyes met yours, they softened, his glare reserved for man and man only. "Oh, it's my girls."

You squeaked as your friend shoved you forward, nearly knocking you over the rope. You straightened, just like you had practiced, smiling tightly and waving bashfully up at him. 

"Hey, sweetheart,” Shinji chuckled languidly, slowly beginning his descent down the stairs towards you. “Ya coming in?"

"We're trying to,” your friend grumbled from behind, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the bouncer, eager to pin blame on him. “Are you gonna fire this guy or what?" 

"Whatever you want darlin',” Shinji laughed, unhooking the rope and ignoring his bouncer’s dumbfounded expression. “Come on, then."

Your friends giggled excitedly at the VIP treatment, as if they weren’t complaining about having to come here thirty minutes ago, prancing forward and up the stairs. You lingered behind, murmuring another “sorry” to the bouncer before you moved to follow them. 

Shinji held out his arm for you to take. “I was beginning to think I wasn’t gonna get to see ya tonight.” He eyed your figure. “Looking so pretty too.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You smiled coyly, taking his arm and letting him lead you inside, careful not to trip up the stairs. 

You were met with the usual scene, dim lighting, gold, reds, purples, the woodsy aroma of whiskey mixed with cigar smoke and expensive perfumes, two men gathered in hushed conversation at the bar, a new couple huddled together in the corner playing footsies, an old one twirling with each other on the floor to a romantic tune, glimpses of lovers and loners alike on the balcony, and your friends already spinning each other around, looking wild and beautiful and catching the eyes of most men in here, however young or old. 

Shinji was not one of them, too busy with his eyes on you. “Are ya thirsty, baby doll?”

Every little variation of pet name he gave you made your chest flutter, the sweet names and phrases like doses of sugar coming from him. It gave you a rush, and you couldn’t get enough. You were an addict, constantly coming back for more. “Can I just have a water?”

“You can have whatever you like,” he responded, detaching from your side to slide behind the bar, his bartender occupied with flirtatious women at the end. 

Shinji made quick work of filling your glass, throwing in a lemon and garnishing it with a small flower. You giggled your thanks when he handed it to you, making him grin adoringly as you sipped from the pretty glass, perched in the stool across from him.  

You were working up the courage to launch into conversation with him, racking your brain for how to start calmly when he made you feel so airy and excitable, when one of his regulars was slinking up to the bar, coming to catch up before saying his goodbyes for the night.

“Hey!” Shinji beamed towards him before throwing you an apologetic look. “I’ll be back for ya,” he assured before he was off, playing the gracious owner. 

You waited impatiently for him to return, not-so-subtly watching as he got trapped in one conversation after the next, getting to know some of the unfamiliar faces before they left for the night or revisiting with returning patrons. Envy burned in your chest, observing them stealing away your time with him when you had been waiting for this all night. 

As the clock neared and then passed two am, despite the fact that Shinji never formally kicked anyone out, most people filed out on their own, some stopping him to thank him or to chat about their night or their most recent heartbreak or how their job has been so shitty and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. You supposed you couldn’t blame them - Shinji was easy to talk to, attentive, humorous and ran a damn good establishment, but you couldn’t help the mounting frustration any time another straggler prevented him from making his way back to you, stealing even more precious time as the night progressed into the wee small hours of the morning. You were getting bitter, silently commanding everyone in the room to please, just leave.

Your friends sashayed their way over to you, one of them faking a yawn. “Looks like it’s closing time,” she observed, throwing you a suggestive look.

“You’re leaving?” Your brows furrowed.

“I mean, yeah,” your other friend laughed. “What? You want us to stay and watch when he…” she trailed off, making a lewd gesture with her hands.

“Didn’t realize you were into that,” they joked.

“That’s not going to happen.” You blushed deeply. “And I’m wondering if I should leave with you.” You glanced longingly in Shinji’s direction, watching him speak with an old pair who were here every week. “He seems like he’s pretty busy. I haven’t really got to talk to him all night.” You looked at your glass of melted ice sadly.

“You have to stay!” Your friend urged you. “You came here for a reason. Don’t pussy out.”

“Do you want us to stay until everybody else is gone?” Your other friend offered.

It was tempting, but you weren’t going to make them sit here with you when they were ready to go. Besides, it seemed like there were only a couple of others left aside from the old couple, and all of Shinji’s staff had already cleaned up and gone. If you were staying, surely, it wouldn’t be much longer until you got him all to yourself. Your friend was right. Now was not the time to pussy out. You’d waited this long, what was a little longer?

“That’s okay.” You smiled, getting down from your stool to hug and kiss them goodbye. “Thank you guys for coming with me.”

“You know we always will. Go get some pickle.” They smacked your butt before departing, waving teasingly to Shinji as they sidled past the chattery old people. 

At the sight of their exit, Shinji looked your way, confirming that you were still there, waiting for him. He smirked to himself before turning back to the old couple, exchanging their last words before he helped them out and down the stairs, returning to say and wave goodbye as the other few remaining people wrapped it up and left. 

It was finally just the two of you, the moment you had been wishing for all night. An upbeat jazz song echoed around the vacant space as he made his way back to your side. He looked a little delirious, dark smudges under his wandering eyes, a few more of his buttons undone, revealing more of his chest. He was probably worn out from the long night. It made him look impossibly sexier.    

“Hi,” he greeted playfully.

“Hi,” you said timidly, pushing down the feral urges rising to the surface. “Again. Those old people have a later bedtime than I do.”

Shinji grinned amusedly at your passive aggressive joke. “I’m sorry for disappearing for so long.” He snuck in closer, whispering, “did ya miss me?”

“Maybe,” you whispered back, heating up under his intense gaze.

“I sure missed you,” he confessed, bringing a hand to ghost over your waist. His eyes dropped to follow the motion. “I like this dress,” he complimented. “Yer a real knockout. I was afraid someone else was going to come and snatch you up.”

“You’re being dramatic.” You reached for your hair to smooth down the messy strands.

“I’m not,” he disagreed seriously, his voice dropping an octave. It was silent for a moment, nothing but the surround sound of jazz, and the transition into a slower and more sensual instrumental. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have to wait for anyone. By the way, how much trouble did my bouncer give ya earlier?” He raised an eyebrow threateningly. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, honestly!” You laughed nervously, looking towards the entrance as you thought of his employee and the way he shrunk down when Shinji came outside. You were shrinking now in your own way, having an inkling that if you said the word, he’d truly get fired in a heartbeat, and you didn’t particularly want that on your conscience. “He was just doing his job.”

“His job is to let my girl in, no matter the day or time or whatever the hell else is going on,” Shinji said sternly. “He’s an idiot.”

“I made it in here. No hard feelings.” You tentatively put a hand on his chest, bringing yourself closer to him, some of your fingers curled against his shirt, and others on his bare skin. 

“Yer too forgiving.” He calmed, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath your touch. 

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“And what about you?”

“Well,” you avoided his eyes as you confessed, “I’m happy now…”

He smiled arrogantly. “Yeah?”

You nodded.

The music played distantly again, reminding you that you were alone with him, the only two around to hear it. Shinji’s hand fell from your waist, coming to rest atop where yours was pressed to his chest. 

“So then, shall we dance?” He asked, grinning mischievously. 

“What?” You nearly gasped, gazing at the empty floor. “I don’t dance - like that!” You panicked, imagining the intimacy of it - his hands on your waist, his body so close, moving in sync with yours to the slow music playing over the speakers. There would be no explaining away your feelings, just movement and lots of eye contact, all body language. You were all talk and no game, wobbling on your heels, sure that you were going to embarrass yourself, that you were going to put his favorite genre to shame, and then it would be all over. 

“Sure ya do,” he chuckled at your jittery state. “Yer just being shy.” He grabbed your hand, pulling it from his chest to entangle his fingers with yours, rubbing your skin with his thumb.

“I really don’t know how to.” You hesitated. “I’ll make a fool of myself.”

He shook his head, bringing the back of your hand to his lips for a chaste kiss. “Let me teach you.” 

Without another word, he was hurrying away, plunging the space into silence. He returned with an old record player, making a comment about the “real deal” as he set it up. He left again in search for a specific record, leaving you to shuffle in place and twiddle your thumbs, rubbing the back of your hand where his lips came and went. 

While you waited, your thoughts ran unchecked, thinking again about him pulling you along the floor to something romantic, your dress swishing about at your ankles, holding his hand long enough for your palm to sweat in his…your heart hammered in your chest, beating to the wrong rhythm. You took steadying breaths, remembering to slow down, to be smooth as jazz. 

Shinji looked your way excitedly, finally putting the record in place. He rushed back over to you, and so as not to waste a moment of the song, he grabbed onto you immediately, a hand on your hip, and another taking your hand. There was no more time to worry, and only time for dance. 

The music began, like stars twinkling, the language of dreams, while strings crooned in the background. Eyes like saucers, you looked to Shinji for guidance on where to put your free hand. “Up here.” He nodded towards his shoulder. 

You delicately placed your hand where he instructed, tensing at the feel of him, at the tiniest movement of his muscles underneath the soft fabric of his dress shirt. You weren’t able to think about it for very long as your feet were pulled into movement, Shinji taking you with him to the melody. 

Of course, you found a way to complicate it, no matter how simple it was. All you had to do was move your feet where he tugged you, but you couldn’t manage even that, staggering in your heels, but he never let you falter too much, tightening his hand on your hip and his other in yours to keep you upright and in line. “Yer alright, yer okay,” he’d say. “I’ve got you.”

He never stopped, covering the expanse of the floor with his eyes on yours. You still couldn’t quite get out of your head, but it was getting easier as the song progressed. You let both Shinji and your intuition guide you, and as such, your clumsiness slowly faded away, replaced by a gracefulness you never knew you had. When you were starting to get the hang of the easy part, he was releasing your hip, keeping your hand in his and twirling you.

You laughed and squealed, feeling more at ease the more playful he was, all of the stress and the worry cascading out of you with the twirl. It was fun, the feeling of being whipped around by him, your dress and hair twirling too, so much so that it had you cheering, “again!” And of course he obliged you, spinning you around once more.  

Shinji must have been feeling as euphoric as you, opening his mouth to belt out a line of the song.

“You’d be hers if only she would call!”

The words, whether they were just lyrics to sing along to or something he really meant, stunted you. Your smile fell, your expression turning serious and fervent as his eyes bore into yours. He grinned at your stunned expression, encouraging you to listen to the lyrics more carefully as he swayed with you. 

It had you relaxing into the movement even more, the placement of your feet and your body’s responses becoming second nature as you honed in on the music. In this, you found a new appreciation for the instruments and their union, much like the way you united with Shinji now, the bliss when certain notes and sounds came together at once. 

Though the music was peaceful, the moment was intense. Your throat tightened with the way he looked at you, the way he moved you and spun you like you were a flower, the way he sang to you, “you’d be hers if only she would call.” Would he be mine? Does he want to be mine?

It had you recounting all of the times you came in here, how he always greeted you with his signature smirk when you came in and let you stay late, making cheeky remarks about whatever outfit you had on that night or paying enough attention to compliment your hair or makeup, telling creepy men to get lost when they approached you, knowing your drink order and making sure it was never empty, playing your favorite songs, walking you out and telling you that he’d see you next time…he always did. 

And tonight, all that transpired, the same protectiveness and pet names and compliments, but now, the dance. You’d always written off his behavior and his words as his personality, a natural flirt, or maybe just the fact that he needed business, and you were naive enough to fall into his trap over and over again. He was sweet and protective to all the women. After all, he’d told your friend “whatever you want darlin’” at her request that he fire the bouncer, and talked to various women, young and old, before they left tonight. 

You couldn’t deny that on your hard days, you thought about it a little too much, wondered what those conversations with other women consisted of, if maybe you were just his Friday girl and on Saturday he had another little doll staggering up to the velvet rope, batting her lashes and getting him to fulfill her every wish and command, just for the night. It was why you never took any of it too seriously before now, allowing yourself to get excited each night that you visited, but not to take it back home with you, too afraid to have your heart broken.

But being here with him tonight made everything feel real. You weren’t his Friday girl, you were his every day girl. Sure, he gave everybody sweet nicknames, but he complimented you, he searched for you, he stayed behind for you. It had been this way all along, you were just too stuck in your head, letting your insecurities cloud your judgment. If you had just called him, just given him the word, he’d be yours. 

So perceptive, it was as if Shinji knew you were overthinking it all now, worry passing over his features as he observed you. He twirled you again just to see you smile, but instead of spinning you around fully, he ended this one with his chest to your back and his arms wrapped around you, keeping you there for a moment before spinning you back out again, whisking you along and out of the room before you could see the rosiness in his cheeks.

He took you to the balcony, reconnecting with you there, the music still heard from inside as the chill night nipped at you playfully. The lyrics returned, and you strained to hear them as Shinji tucked you into his chest, rocking you more slowly now to keep you warm from the wind whipping your hair and dress around your frame. 

“When your lonely heart has learned its lesson

You’d be hers if only she would call.”

You looked up from Shinji’s chest, searching his face for the truth as the town below you started to settle into bed. 

“In the wee small hours of the morning

That’s the time you miss her most of all.”

Chills prickled your skin as the song twinkled out, the stars overhead now. When it stopped, the both of you stopped moving, but continued to hold one another, staring in silence with nothing but the distant sounds of the world around you and the whispers of an early spring night. 

Selfishly, you had to know. You needed to hear him say it, for your own peace of mind. “Do you,” you hesitated, but his soft, patient gaze brought you the rest of the way, “have feelings for me?”

“I have for a long time,” he answered you easily, seriously.

“How long?” You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in closer, looking at him with glassy eyes. 

“Not long after you started coming here,” again, with a quick, steadfast response. “You’ve always been my girl.”

You let your instincts take over, looking at his lips, leaning in the slightest bit, this was the call. 

And he moved in the rest of the way until your lips were pressed together, becoming yours. He didn’t have to miss you anymore - at this hour, when he was normally closing up, heading home to lie awake and think of you - because here you were, finally where he had longed for you to be, with him. 

The kiss was long, but sweet. Pure and wholesome, he kept your lips against his, and nothing more, pulling back to hug you tightly, pressing more tender kisses onto your cheek and forehead. “A long time,” he said to himself again, running his fingers through your hair as he rested his head against yours.

“I’m your girl,” you spoke to yourself too, smiling like an idiot and shivering against him, excited and a bit chilly. 

“Yer cold,” he commented, smoothing his palms down your back.

“A little.”

He hummed, rubbing his hands up and down your bare arms now. “Want to go back inside?”

“No. I like it out here.” You snuggled back into his chest, leaning against him as you observed the lights below and above. “Just keep me warm.”

He started to unbutton his shirt, untucking it from his pants and pulling it off to wrap it around you.

“You took your shirt off?!” You giggled at him in disbelief.

“My baby’s cold.” He shrugged with a smile, pulling the fabric around your naked shoulders before cuddling you back into him. 

“But you’ll be cold now,” you worried, running your hands along his bare chest and arms, exposed to the night air.

“I’m fine.” He pulled you tighter against him, repeating your words, “just keep me warm.”

Content to be here with him like this, finally yours, you reflected on your humble beginnings, when your friends were reluctant to come here with you, and then when they were refusing not to be let in. You giggled to yourself as you thought of them and how they were going to interrogate you about the rest of your night - or morning, rather. You were going to have to tell them the truth. Okay, I admit, I do want his pickle.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆

The weather this evening, that late-summer-early-fall breeze, reminds you of that special night. It’s around the same time too, the wee small hours of the morning. You’re normally asleep at this hour, but missing him more than usual, you can’t catch a wink. 

“What’re ya still doing awake?” Shinji asks when he finally returns to your shared home, peeling his clothes off and leaving them in a pile on the floor. Too exhausted for a shower, he joins you in bed. 

“Missing you.” You wrap yourself around him instantly, moaning softly at the heat rolling off of his body on this chilly night. “Have any dances tonight?”

“Hopefully one now - with you,” he growls into your neck, nipping at the skin there. 

And so, you dance, no music necessary when you both create your own. The only sounds he loves more than his jazz are the noises that come from you when he makes you feel good. Shinji’s too tired to be anywhere but in bed with you, but not too tired to make love as you say goodbye to yet another Friday night. 

Mayuri my dear, that's not how you hold a sword 😭

Shinji Hirako Cosplay

Feed us some shinji smut (and angst) 😻😻😻🙏🙏🙏🙏😭😭😭😭

All I have now are wilted flowers.

Starring: Shinji Hirako x f!reader; Aizen Sosuke x f!reader (platonic relationship);

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, angst, betrayal, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, morally grey reader, turn back the pendolum arc, blood, manipulative reader, toxic behavior, psychological manipulation (Aizen vexing the reader), unhealthy codependency (the reader is deeply attached to Aizen);

Plot: looking back at your relationship with Captain Hirako, you could not help but ask yourself: was it ever really love, if the night your brother supposedly sacrificed him, you did not step in to save him?

Luscious, silky strands resembling the warm rays of the sun curtained you off from the rest of the world. His breath was labored, his jaw clenched and his slender fingers were digging into the tender flesh of your wrists with such a brutal force you would have not been surprised to spot crescent marks on them the following day. You drove him crazy. When you were around, the Captain of the Fifth Division stopped flaunting and dropped to his knees to worship every inch of your skin. You made him desperate for your attention.

And you loved it.

The formal power imbalance between you two was actually reversed. You were the fourth seat of his Division, he was your Captain, he should have held some kind of authority over you. Sadly, he did not. You had him wrapped around your finger, crawling to you like a madman, begging you for nights of passion in his chambers. You were his safe haven.

And now, as you let him smash his lips against yours, tongue lapping at your mouth to open it, you knew damn well who was in control between you two.

“You know, I can’t wait to replace your surname with mine. — he uttered, hands skimming down your abdomen to reach your core, pressed against his knee — Mrs. Hirako sounds pretty good, don’t you think?” he crooned, moaning at the sight of your juices leaking over his rotula. You were a sight to behold.

His words should have made your heart thrum in your chest. The man you loved had just revealed his intention to make you his wife. Too bad you had buried your feelings and humanity so deep in your chest you had no idea where that stupid organ, keeping you alive, was wallowing in despair. There had been a time in your life, when you had genuinely loved him. It did not cost you any effort flirting with Shinji, hanging out with him hours past the curfew to wait for the dawn together, sipping saké on the rooftop of the Fifth Division.

You had cherished your first kiss with devotion for months, you had rejoiced that he never forgot to send you a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers at your dorm every Monday morning.

And then you had told your brother that you had fallen for your Captain.

Since that day, you had not been the same anymore. Your bond with Shinji was a strategical move. Sosuke had told you he was glad you had experimented such a strong feeling for someone but, for your own good, it would have been better if you guarded your heart from the pain of the future loss. Shinji Hirako, your Captain, your Shinji, had to die.

And, after leaving your brother’s office that evening, you had died too.

You did not share your brother’s thirst for power. Surely, however, you were terrified of losing him. If you did not partake to his plan, he would have probably risked his life. Choosing between your own flesh and blood and the man you loved broke you. Eventually, though, you chose to protect yourself. No more feelings, no more love. You could make the most of the time with Shinji without compromising your brother’s plan. You would have forced yourself to see the love of your life as a mission to accomplish.

And that fool in love did not notice anything off about you. When he kissed you, you melted in his arms the same way you did, when you first sealed your fate on his thin lips.

“Let me be on top” you suddenly whispered, shoving him off of you and flipping him over, watching him eagerly laying on his back.

Shinji did not protest, his hands gliding up your hipbones, cupping your waist to balance you on top of him with care. You took a hold of his cock, the tip leaking with precum, as you delicately rubbed your thumb over it, diligently smearing the translucent substance all around the pinkish head. How many times had you done that for him? Too many to count, but his reaction remained the same. He groaned, eyes rolling in the back of his skull, whilst he spasmodically buckled his hips up to get your attention.

He needed you and he would have needed you every single night of his life. As you pumped his shaft in your hand a couple of times, his half-lidded eyes locked with yours and, in that moment, you knew. You knew he would have always looked at you the same way he was doing now: enamoured.

He loved you. And he would have loved you forever, even if you were going to twist a dagger in his heart and push his rotting corpse in Hell, where Captains belonged.

You took a sharp intake of air, as you lined his cock to your entrance, gradually lowering yourself down to let his girth part your walls. Was there something real in what you were doing? Yes, there was. But you indoctrinated yourself with believing it was just physical pleasure. You were ensnaring your own senses in a bottle, tossing it far away for you to never be able to reach it again, to uncork it and breathe in the true essence of love you had been deprived of for years now, for the sake of your brother.

Shinji grunted, hands squeezing your ass as he watched you rotate your hips sensually above him. You were the gooddess he believed in, the only woman who had been able to rip his chest open and surgically remove his heart. How could he not trust you to look after it for him?

“What do you think?” he asked you, foreteeth sinking onto his bottom lip, when you set up a quicker pace, riding him as if you meant it. And maybe you did. Or maybe not. But how could he know you were not the same girl who had told him ‘I love you’, more than a decade ago, in a old hay loft you had found shelter from the rain in, or that you were not the shy, young girl who wrote little poems for him to read before falling asleep?

You moaned under your breath “About what?”.

“How does Mrs. Hirako sounds to you?”.

“Like a dream”.

He pushed himself up, pressing his forehead against yours, lips chasing your glossy ones in feverish kisses “Then marry me”.

You did not have a heart anymore. There was a hole where it was supposed to be, right? Then why did you almost feel that stupid organ skip a beat in your chest. You were better than that. You were not the type to fall for heartwretching words like these. You could not fall for Shinji Hirako, the goofy Captain of the Fifth Division, all over again.

You smiled against his lips, kissing him back, avoiding answering because it was easier to let him believe you were too emotional to say something else than shuddery breaths and moans. He did not let you rest, though. Shinji thrusted upwards, cutting your breath off, before sliding one arm around your waist to keep you firmly archored to him.

“Don’t you dare ignoring what I said” he rasped out, watching your mouth part in obscene cries of pleasure he was eliciting with his rough, steady thrusts, preventing you from moving freely. You were at your limit and he knew your body language. He was close too and you could see it in his eyes, pupils dilated, and in the way he hissed when you reached your climax.

“When? When should I marry you?”.

“Now”.

You chuckled, shaking your head tiredly “Don’t be ridiculous”.

He bit down softly on your jawline, nuzzling his nose down the curve of your neck “Then tonight. Meet me in my dream. I will make you my wife”.

When he suddenly pulled out of you, spilling his seed down on your belly, you wondered if he would have said the same thing again, had he be knowing what would have happened that night. But you could not care about it, not when telling him not to leave his barracks would have meant betraying Sosuke.

You kissed him, one last time, passionately, ignoring the lump in your throat when you provided him the only answer he had been anguishing to hear from you “I’ll be there”.

And you were there. Hair neatly combed, eyes clouded over in a mixture of apathy and dread, as you rested your hand on the hilt of your zanpakuto, you stared at the horizon in trepidation. They were coming. He was coming.

Everything was going according to your brother’s plan. Tosen was standing a few feet away from you, silent, as Sosuke and Gin approached you two. There was no need to say anything. His caramel eyes lingered on your face in pride, a faint smile gracing his lips to praise you for your service. You had worked hard for the sake of your brother’s plan. For a better future. You had proved yourself worthy to follow him, to be a member of his deranged, secret society. His docile, sweet sister, the little girl who always followed him around, who trusted him blindly in every decision he made, even when they lived in the Rukongai. Maybe, this was the reason why you had given up on your happiness to see Sosuke triumph over the system.

Sosuke had always been right. He had to be right this time too.

“I will leave him to you” Sosuke said then, before ambling off to hide himself, as soon as he heard fast footsteps approach the area. Then you felt it. Captain Hirako’s reiatsu, strong and comforting at the same time, rained down on you. You flash-stepped a few feet ahead, meeting your opponent midway, hand hastily unsheathing your blade and holding it upfront, the metal shining ominously underneath the moonlight.

When the Captain halted right in front of you, your grip on your sword intensified. Face to face, standing on opposing sides for the first time ever, you witnessed to the way fear contorted his face. Had you been summoned to investigate too? He could swear he had not heard your name leave Captain Yamamoto’s mouth. Not even your brother, his Lieutenant, had been sent to look for the missing members of the Ninth squad.

“What are you doing here?” he hesitated, but you did not flinch, or budge to reply. His words remained unheard. Shinji could not believe his eyes. Your silence was the unequivocal proof you were involved in whatever phenomenon was happening in the Soul Society.

Shinji straightned his back, hand reaching for his own weapon, but his movements seemed somewhat not as determined as they usually were during a fight.

He was used to handle ferocious Hollows and belligerent Ryokas, not you. Not his reason to be a better man. Nothing made sense. Not your cold eyes, your defensive stance, the droplets of dried blood on your cheekbone and clothes.

Where was his darling?

“Answer me!” he shouted, just as Lisa and the Captains of the Third and Seventh Divisions joined the battlefield with horrified and disortiented expressions plastered over their faces. Still, the broken one, the man having an existential crisis was Shinji. You were not close to the others, but you were close to him, you were his woman. The one he loved. You should have cared about his opinion on you.

At your refusal to dignify him with an explanation, he lost his mind. He charged towards you, eyes filled with sufferings, regrets, whilst he swung his sword towards you. Stepping aside, you let the Hollowfied Lieutenant of the Twelfth Divison clash with him.

A groan of pain, blood splattering on the ground, you watched your lover fall on his knees with a thud, hand clutching his injured shoulder. There were tears in his eyes, fury in the way he screamed up at the sky, desperate, as he watched his other companions being tossed around and knocked down by the former Captain and Lieutenant of the Ninth Division.

“Why?” the words were thrown at your face, his voice uncharacteristically raw, as you turned your back at him to leave space to your cunning brother. You did not want to answer. Mostly, because what you had done was unforgivable. Probably, if he knew who really were, he would have deemed you unlovable too. But this was a misconception. He wanted to understand, he demanded answers, he would have forgiven you, if only you gave him the chance to.

As a coward, though, all you did was looking up at the sky. A single tear running down your cheek as you left him for a century with words meant to torment you more than they did to him “I won’t apologize for having ruined your life. But I do hope that you won’t hate me forever”.

As if he would have been able to hate you at all.

When you headed back to your dorm that night, the first thing you set your eyes on were the flowers he had gifted you last Monday. Monday, right. What day was it again? Monday, the bloody, forsaken Monday. Everything had come to an end in a matter of hours. Those were the last flowers your beloved Captain had donated to you, to help you remind you of him, to be the symbol of your love, of your once flourishing feelings. What remained now of your love?

Nothing.

He had left you with nothing, but a bunch of wilted flowers that still smelt like him.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Your queen of angst is back. I have hurt my goofy potato, I’m sorry. Still, someone had asked for him to suffer and I have gladly delivered this. Hoping you have enjoyed the meal, I will wait for your feedback. Likes, comments and re-posts are appreciated!

Love,

Luce.

Credits for the dividers: @cafekitsune

Tags: @villainsrtasty @milapurr @suzanlucky @cloudyempress @pinguwuuuu @my-my-my @darthwhorecrux

i love men w big boobs <3333

This is literally me with Sukuna

Danny Johnson they could never make me hate you

I know I'm a week early, but I was excited to write something Valentine's Day related!

TW: I was in heat when I wrote this. Mentions alcohol, lots of smut, p in v penetration, face sitting, etc...Tiny bits of a little angst at the end buuut nothing our glorious king Reigen Arataka can't fix ;)

What happens when you, a lonely single, meets your friend Reigen, another lonely single, at a bar on a Friday night that also happens to be Valentine's Day?

Valentine's Day was on a Friday this year, and you celebrated by treating yourself to a whole bottle of wine. You were only halfway through it when you felt brave enough to text your friend Reigen, the insufferable screwball you had such a massive crush on.

You kept it simple, asking what he was up to for the evening. One thing led to another, and you were forgetting all about your wine and plans for isolation, getting dolled up to meet him at the bar. You'd never even approached first base with him, but you still pulled on a sweet and seductive matching set of lingerie under your outfit, just in case! It was a day for love after all.

When you arrived he was already seated at the bar, his glass half empty and his cheeks already flushed. You sauntered up to him, plopping down at his side and ordering a glass of wine. He wore his usual crisp, gray suit and pink tie, but under the tacky pink lighting in the bar for the occasion, it made him appear a bit more roguish and artfully messy. Maybe it was the way his hair fell against his forehead, knotted from continuously running his hand through it or maybe you just had too much wine coursing through your veins, warming your body and sending you into a spiraling heat, but the mere sight of him had you clenching your thighs together. You tried not to look too excited.

"Hey," Reigen greeted. "Couldn't handle spending tonight alone, could you?" He grinned teasingly.

"I just got bored." You rolled your eyes at him playfully. "And you came."

"I did come." He chuckled gruffly. It took great effort for you to keep your composure, thinking of innuendos in your head but not daring to utter them aloud.

The bartender set your glass of wine before you, and Reigen ordered him to put it on his tab. You smirked as you tipped the glass back, taking a generous sip. You felt a swell of pride, the usually frugal man who wasn't so cheap with you. "Thank you," you breathed.

"No problem." He was trying to remain nonchalant, but his leg bounced next to yours as he downed the rest of his drink.

The two of you talked about generic things, the holiday, work, what shows you were watching, books you were reading, video games you were playing, all of the socially acceptable, boring things. All the while, his leg kept bouncing. It was distracting really.

You laid a hand on his thigh just above his knee to steady it.

Reigen gave you a puzzled look, glancing down at your hand and back up. At the tiniest hint of judgment, you were retracting your hand, cheeks warming shamefully. "Sorry. You were fidgeting," you muttered the lame excuse, nervously drinking more of your wine.

To your surprise, after you had set your glass back down, he grabbed your hand, spreading it back over his thigh, even a little higher this time.

"Can I try some of that?" He nodded towards your wine as if nothing had just happened.

"Ye - yeah." You quickly pushed the glass towards him, your mouth running dry. Now your hand felt heavy on his leg. You watched him carefully as he took a large drink from your glass before pushing it back over your way, licking his lips.

"It's good," he told you after a long moment of staring at each other. "Getting kind of empty. You want another?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe in a bit," you hummed, watching him curiously. You dragged your hand down and off his leg, grinning wickedly, your confidence returning at his encouragement. "Or I can finish it and we can go have some elsewhere?"

"I have some at home." Reigen shrugged. "Let me close my tab."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You were delightedly surprised at how quickly your plans were falling into place. Like a gentleman, Reigen walked you inside his apartment, holding the door open for you and taking your coat and purse. Not so much like a gentleman, his lips were on yours almost instantly, forcing his tongue into your mouth as his hands on your hips held you against him.

You squeaked, a small sound of surprise that made him pull back, looking unsure of himself. "Sorry - is this okay?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I was just a little surprised at how aggressive you're being."

Worry flashed across his features, his hands dropping away from your waist. "Shit, I'm sorry," he muttered again.

"No, no." You grabbed his hands, guiding them back to where they were. "I want you to manhandle me."

A beat passed as your words processed in Reigen's mind. "Oh fuck." His hands went limp on your hips, eyes darkening and jaw going slack. "Fuck," he repeated, looking desperate now.

"Is something wrong?" You teased.

"No," he spoke just loud enough for you to hear. He watched you carefully, eyes darting about your features to search for any sign of hesitation. "You're sure you want this?"

"More than sure." You nodded. He'd see just how sure you were if he got far enough to glimpse your matching underwear.

Your head spun with your wine buzz as Reigen whisked you along to his bedroom. He fell atop his mattress with you on top, straddling his waist. He groaned pathetically while you returned your mouth to its position against his, tongues unceremoniously exploring each other. It was drunken and filthy, the way you practically drooled into his mouth. His hands shamelessly explored your body now, starting at your waist and stopping at your ass, groping and squeezing your plush skin. You shuddered as he lifted the bottom hem of your dress over the curve of your bum to fondle the bare skin, his fingers grazing your clothed pussy.

"Reigen," you gasped into his mouth.

"Yeah?" He laughed cockily. "Is something wrong?" He mocked. It was really a game of push and pull between you two. When one of you lost confidence, the other was there to do enough uplifting for the both of you. When one of you acted more desperate, the other was there to taunt and tease. You enjoyed this game with him, this balance. You liked taking turns, moment by moment, deciding who was the cat and who was the mouse.

"Please - just take it off." You didn't care how desperate you sounded, since he was the one doing the teasing now, and it was getting you even hotter. The heat swirling in your core was becoming unbearable, and you needed him to touch you.

"Oh my God," he mumbled hoarsely. "You're acting so slutty. It's so fucking hot."

"Reigen!" You whined impatiently.

"Alright, alright."

He reluctantly released your bum, taking your dress into his hands and lifting it up and over your body. You sat up to assist him in taking it off, giggling when his jaw dropped at the sight of your matching bra and panties. You reached down to begin undoing his belt, leaning over him to showcase your cleavage as you did so.

"I could cum right now," he sighed. "Did you wear that for me?" He hooked a finger under your panties before pulling back and releasing the fabric, letting it slap against your hip.

"Mhmm." You nodded, yanking his belt from his pants and tossing it aside. "You like it?"

"I love it." He continued to toy with the band of your underwear. "You're beautiful." Reigen's cheeks warmed at the compliment he gave you. The way he could be so cocky and so soft with you simultaneously was driving you mad. A straightforward businessman who was also a little dorky...it got you wet like no other man could.

You unzipped his pants, pressing a kiss to the bit of exposed skin just above the band of his boxers in thanks. He let loose a shaky breath, undoing his tie and beginning to shimmy out of his jacket and unbutton his shirt. You sat up to give him space to undress himself, helping him unbutton his top while he slowly attempted to kick his pants off. It was chaotic and clumsy, the two of you working together to hastily remove his clothing, but you giggled through it with him and didn't stop until he was left in nothing but his boxers. You took your place back on his lap, grinding down against his clothed, hardening cock. The both of you moaned in harmony at the friction.

Reigen's fingers dug into your sides, pulling you down onto him. He panted and watched in awe as you rolled your hips against his, the both of you unabashedly dry humping one another like crazed teenagers. He reconnected your lips, the noises you were making falling into each other's mouths. It was pure bliss until it wasn't, until you needed more. And somehow, without any words being spoken, Reigen knew. He was pulling away from you again with a groan, laying back against his sheets and looking up at you with a deadly serious expression.

"Take your panties off and sit on my face," he demanded.

Your eyes went wide, shocked by the blunt, lewd request. Something inside your stomach churned, making you twitch. "What?" Your face grew hot. His intense gaze made you squirm. Your head was swimming.

"You're gonna act shy now? Like you weren't just rubbing yourself against me?" He laughed meanly. "Come on." He tapped your thigh like it was simple. "Come rub yourself against my mouth instead."

Your brain was short-circuiting. He had beat you at your own game, and it was making you want to run, the balance tipped back in his favor. "I - I don't - I mean, are you sure? I've never done that before."

"First time for everything." He grinned. "Need some encouragement?" He rubbed comforting circles into your skin. You were struggling to process reality, your friend, hard as a rock beneath you, asking you to sit on his face. You took a deep breath.

"What if I like," you searched for the right words, "break your neck?"

"Then I'll die a happy man," Reigen mused.

"I'm being serious!" You pouted.

"You're not going to break my neck," he groaned in frustration. "I've got support." He patted the pillows underneath his head for extra measure.

"I'm nervous," you confessed. "Sorry, I know that's not very sexy."

"You kidding? You're still a bombshell." Reigen smiled. "You can lay down and I can eat it that way if you'd prefer?" The way he talked about eating your pussy so casually made your chest flutter. You gasped at him, throbbing against the damp fabric of his boxers.

"No." You blushed deeply. "It's okay. I can do it."

"Do what?" He raised an eyebrow. "Can I hear you say it?" He was toying with you now, making you say dirty things just for the sake of it.

"You are so-" you huffed. "I'll sit on your face."

"Good girl," he praised teasingly. "Alright, let me see then. Take them off."

You whined but obeyed, lifting up off of him to slide your panties down and off of your legs. You quickly straddled him once again, shuddering when your bare heat caught on the fabric of his boxers.

"Shit." With heavily lidded eyes, Reigen reached forward, running a finger through your folds to gather your essence. You moaned at his gentle touch, trying and failing to keep your composure as you thought of his warm tongue being pressed there instead. "Okay. Come up here," he instructed, beckoning you with the finger coated in your juices.

You reluctantly crawled up his body, stopping when you were positioned above his face. You sank down frantically, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer, but held yourself up so as not to crush him with your full weight. Reigen hummed against you, grabbing your hips and pulling you down the rest of the way. A shockwave of pleasure racked through your torso as his tongue pressed into you, the vibrations of his groaning tickling your core. You cried out, overwhelmed already, and he had only just begun.

"Fuck!" You held onto his hair, staying still as he licked against you, his hands digging bruises into your ass and thighs. The low, guttural, breathy and slurping noises he was making beneath you had you clenching around nothing, soaking his mouth and chin. You cried and whimpered, trembling as he seemed to know just how to get you going.

Chasing your high as you got more comfortable atop of him, you slowly rolled your hips against his face. Reigen made sounds of approval, repositioning his hand placement to encourage you to keep going, to keep riding and using his face the way you needed to. It was nasty, your face flushed with the realization of how obscene it was, and the realization only made you get hotter, wetter. The coil in your lower stomach kept tightening and tightening, threatening to snap.

You pulled away from him, collapsing at his side.

"What are you doing?" He panted in disbelief, his face glistening with your slick.

"Want to cum on your cock," you mumbled drunkenly, taking off your bra. "Please, fuck me." You tossed your bra aside and spread your legs, batting your lashes up at him tiredly.

"Holy shit," Reigen gasped. He fumbled for his boxers, fighting to quickly pull them down and off his body. You shamelessly watched his hardened length spring free, impatiently spreading your legs even farther apart.

After scrambling for a condom in his nightstand and rolling one on, he crawled over you, dipping his head forward to capture your mouth in a sloppy kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips as he sunk into you, swapping moans. He pulled back to watch himself move slowly in and out of you, eyes wide and glassy. You screwed yours shut, relishing in the feeling of his thick cock stretching your walls. You opened them only when you felt his thumb press against your bundle of nerves, rubbing fast, tight circles as he slowly increased the pace of his thrusts into you.

"Reigen!" You gasped, grabbing his wrist and trying to push him away. With his free hand, he ripped your hand away, pinning it above your head.

"Thought you wanted to be manhandled?" He grunted, his composure wavering in and out as you clamped around him. "Oh my - fuck. S - so tight and warm," he whimpered into your neck as he practically collapsed over you, struggling to keep a steady rhythm on your clit and inside you.

"'S too much!" Tears were prickling in your eyes. You weren't prepared to release just yet, but it seemed you weren't getting much of a choice. You could hardly think or remember how to breathe, forced to take it as he pumped in and out of you. You were squirming beneath him, trying to relieve some of the pressure though it was no use.

"Stay still," he growled, his voice deep, carnal, and almost unlike him. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't obey, back arching and thighs trying to clamp shut to resist the force of his blows.

He was getting frustrated with your refusal to listen, tightening his grip on your wrists. He removed his thumb from you clit and pulled out of you in one quick movement, ignoring your dumbfounded expression as he flipped you over and lifted your hips, re-entering you from behind. It was painful, the way he slammed back into you, but it hurt in a way that sent an extreme wave of pleasure through your core. You were basically screaming now, falling limp underneath him, but he wouldn't allow it, wrapping an arm around your waist and another around your shoulders and neck to hold you upright as he took you from behind. He found your clit again, expertly rubbing his fingers against you while he thrusted into your ruined cunt.

You couldn't make out any coherent words, crying and whining loudly while he muttered praises in between kisses pressed to your temple. "I know, I know," Reigen cooed. "You're okay. It's okay. I've got you. You're almost there."

It didn't take much longer for either of you in this position. Reigen's thrusts were starting to become erratic, his grip on you clumsily faltering and tightening, back and forth. "I'm gonna cum," he told you in a pained tone. "You almost there, baby?"

The innocent pet name in such an indecent setting knocked the wind out of you. All you could do was nod and make a sort of sound of agreement. He was more strategic now about the way he moved, trying to get you there before him. You relaxed into him, trusting him to hold you up as you let that coil inside snap. You shuddered and trembled against him, temporarily going to another place entirely as you he chased his own high, pulling out only moments later after he was finished.

You laid beside him, the two of you panting and coming back down in unison. He gave himself a minute before he moved to clean up, discarding his condom and heading to the bathroom. Without him inside you or near you, you suddenly felt very cold. You waited for him curiously and a bit anxiously, a small bud of worry blossoming in your chest at his absence and his silence. You heard the faucet running for a few moments before he was returning, a wet cloth in his hand.

For all of his obliviousness and goofiness, Reigen was surprisingly attentive and soft, gently bringing the warm cloth in between your thighs to clear up some of the residue that was left behind. You gasped at the feeling of the fabric against your sensitive core, but allowed him to quietly and softly wipe away the remains of your encounter. It all seemed to come together in this moment, to make sense, why you had such an intense crush on this man who was supposed to be your friend.

"Thank you," you croaked tiredly when he was done.

"You need anything?" He asked you hoarsely, sounding just as exhausted as you were. "Water? A snack?"

"I'm okay," you shook your head. You wondered if you were overstaying your welcome, lingering if you weren't going to have a drink or some food. It made you more nervous and uncertain when he left to go grab something for himself. He was still your friend, no matter how much you were enjoying yourself. Your past reminded you that you needed to be realistic. You reluctantly pushed yourself up from the plush confines of his comforter, searching for your undergarments. "I should get going," you explained when he returned with a bottle of water.

Reigen's expression fell. "You're not going to stay?"

"Oh." You softened under his harsh gaze. "I don't know - I guess I just assumed you wouldn't want me to after we-"

"What kind of a guy do you think I am?" He laughed. "You're not going home at this hour by yourself. And I like to cuddle afterwards," he stilled, "unless you don't."

You giggled at him. "Yeah, I do too."

"Good!" He jumped back into bed, pulling your naked body flush against his. You laughed, blushing slightly as you comforted into his embrace. He wanted you here. Could this have been more than a one night thing?

As if reading your mind, "for what it's worth," he hesitated, "I'm really glad you texted me tonight."

"I am too." A day for love indeed.