Sinful Office Feat. Kenpachi Zaraki ఌ

@whitefoxfiction the Shinji you are my first love tag 😭😭😭 i see what you did there

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOML 🩷

🥳 May 10. Happy birthday, Shinji!

grimmjow has wisdom to share w us all

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original audio: whoismaxwell

NSFW - Nothing fancy: just me rambling about giving Aizen head.

There’s something about the way Aizen closes his eyes, his lashes flutter and cheeks are tinted with the slightest hint of pink, that gives you a thrill. The quietist of sighs as he leans back, patting your head as you suck his cock. He wasn’t a man of many words when he was like this, just the softest of “good girl” you would hear above you.

But that wasn't necessarily when he was relaxed. No, you knew the tell-tale signs of when Aizen was relaxed. His grip on your hair was firmer, his thrusts into your mouth a bit more forceful, enjoying the mess he's making of you.

There's a lazy smirk on his face as drool dribbles from your lips as you try to suck on his cock the way he likes. His eyes are sharp and his words taunting as he calls you his favourite cock slut, his deep voice sending your pussy throbbing.

But it's when his eyes shutter - a small, satisfied smile on his face, as his cum drips down your lips, on your face, or wherever he wants to paint you tonight, that you savour each and every time.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL YOU BEAUTIFUL MOTHERS OUT THERE!!!!

YOU DESERVE THE WORLD ✨

Part 2 of Grimmjow and the Cookie Thief (ask from @kryptoniteforsale !)

Thanks to the wonderful @villainsrtasty for beta reading!

PART ONE HERE! (This won't make a ton of sense without reading part 1 first!) @cloudyempress @darthwhorecrux @whatshernameis @writemessybleach

CW: Female!Reader, Grimmjow being Grimmjow, marking/hickies, one or two bites, hand on neck but no actual choking, very light spanking, oral sex-male receiving, vaginal fingering, doggy and missionary sex, cream pie, "claiming" if you squint, pet names (princess/kitten) and one instance of reader getting called "good girl". (This covers both parts of the fic!)

Grimmjow and the Cookie Thief pt 2 (~4.2k words)

“Please?” You pasted on a doe-eyed expression. “I promise I’ll be good,” you added in a sugary whisper, leaving it open to interpretation whether you were referring to behaving well… or performing well.

Grimmjow snorted. “I bet you will.” He let go of your foot and shucked his jacket, then lowered his zipper until the belts he always wore got in his way. Still leaning over you, he made quick work of unfastening the buckles before letting them drop to the floor and kicking them aside. You watched, mesmerized by flexing biceps and rippling abs. You were so absorbed by the tantalizing display, so close to your reach, that you didn’t so much as wiggle when he let go of your wrists long enough to switch hands as he shouldered out of the top part of his body suit.

Faster than you could blink, Grimmjow yanked you up off the bed by your arms. As soon as your feet were under you, he stopped pulling and let physics do the rest, standing there like a brick fucking wall as you collided with his bare chest, a surprised ‘Oof!’ forced from your lungs by the impact. It only took a split second for you to recover, immediately putting your freed hands on as much of Grimmjow’s skin as possible. Grimmjow’s body was warm. Very warm. And very solid. You moaned softly as his muscles flexed beneath your fingers, earning you a self-satisfied chuckle. He didn’t chuckle for long, however. “Fuckin’ hell,” he hissed as you leaned in and flicked his nipple with the tip of your tongue. Grimmjow tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck and tugged your head back so that you had no choice but to look up at him. His bright blue eyes were a few shades darker, his pupils round and dark signaling just how much he truly wanted this encounter. The predatory look he was giving you sent a thrill through you, that little edge of fear sending a wave of heat straight to your core. You shivered even as you pressed your thighs together, fidgeting under his scrutiny. “Fuck you’re noisy. You want that boss of yours to hear?” Grimmjow leered down at you, a crooked grin turning up one corner of his mouth. Your eyes widened as the thought sunk in. You had no doubt in your mind that Urahara was somehow listening to everything. “Son-of-a bit—“ “Tch! Noisy!” Grimmjow didn’t give you a chance to finish your thought, cutting off your words as his mouth crashed into yours, his tongue pushing between your lips the moment you let out a gasp of surprise. He kissed like he did everything else, as if he had something to prove, and he knew he was going to prove it. That wasn’t unexpected, but the way he went from fisting your hair so hard that it bordered on pain to cradling the back of your head was giving you emotional whiplash. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you began to wonder if he had thoughts about you that extended beyond a good lay. Your thoughts were interrupted by a large hand clamping down on your shoulder. Just as quickly as Grimmjow initiated the kiss, he broke away and gave your shoulder a shove, quite literally bringing you to your knees. “Ow!” you hissed, half leaning down to rub a knee before Grimmjow’s grip on your hair brought you up short. “You coulda just asked, you kno— Oh…”

You looked up just as Grimmjow lowered his zipper the last few inches, watching his cock spring free from its confines. Swallowing hard, your eyes fastened on the utter masterpiece before you. It certainly was a striking specimen, slightly curved, a good length, and thick with two prominent veins down the sides that vaguely reminded you of the markings below his eyes. Your gaze finally flickered to his face. He looked quite proud of himself for eliciting such a reaction from you. “Heh. That shut you up, didnnit.” Grimmjow leered down at you, but he couldn’t quite hide the hint of disbelief in his eyes; you were actually going to follow through with this! Not that he’d ever admit doubting it, of course.

“Bet I can keep ya quite a little bit longer before I make you get so loud the neighbors will hear,” he taunted. You arched a brow at Grimmjow. Then without warning, you curled a hand around the bottom of his cock, dropping your head and wrapping your lips around it before he had a chance to say another smug-ass word. The gasp he almost choked back was just what you were hoping for, and you grinned around a mouthful of his dick as you went down on him. Grinning didn’t last, quickly turning into a quiet moan when Grimmjow’s fingers pulled at your hair again. He didn’t do more than that, letting you work him over as you pleased for the moment, and you were determined to make it an experience he’d never forget. You teased the head of his cock. Pressing in with the tip of your tongue and lapping up the precum beading in his small slit, salty and just slightly bitter. You whined softly, the sensation drawing a grunt from the arrancar as he bit back another goan. This only spurred you on, fueling your determination to make Grimmjow lose his composure. You moved from teasing to taking in more of his length, moving your hand in tandem with the torturously slow bobbing of your head. “Fuck!” Grimmjow swore between clenched teeth, stroking your ego just like your hand was stroking the girthy base of his cock. You moaned, a low sound coming from deep in your chest that was designed to make what you were doing that much more intense. You looked up at him from beneath your lashes as his hips jerked. His fist tightened in the back of your hair, and you could see that he was losing patience. Good. This was right where you wanted him. You pulled off his cock with a wet pop, just long enough to flash him a sultry smile before taking in as much of him as you could, gagging slightly as the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat. “Fuuuck!” Grimmjow groaned, the volume of his swearing increasing. He didn’t even bother trying to hold back the loud grunt that followed when looked down to see you gazing up at him, your pupils blown as wide as his were and your lips wrapped around the base of his shaft. It was obvious that you were enjoying going down on him as much as he was enjoying being on the receiving end. Well, if you were capable of that… Grimmjow went from simply fisting your hair and holding your head in place to rocking into your mouth. He went shallowly at first to see what you could handle, but before long, he was flexing his hips in short, snapping thrusts that had tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. Your fingers dug into the chorded muscles of his hamstrings even as you forced your jaw to relax. You well and truly let him fuck your face until the blowjob turned sloppy, trickles of drool dripping from your chin and his balls. Even so, Grimmjow’s finely tuned instincts had him reading you like a book the entire time, knowing when you needed a breath and never pushing you beyond what you could tolerate. It was perfect.

“Shit! Not yet,” he barked suddenly. Grimmjow pulled away from you, still holding you in place by the hair as he stepped back.

The next thing you knew, you were being bodily hauled to your feet and spun around to face away from him. Grimmjow yanked what was left of your shirt off of your back and gave you a shove, sending you face first into your mattress before you could catch yourself. You pushed yourself half way up onto your forearms, spitting out a mouthful of cloth, but that was as far as you got before a large, warm hand pressed down between your shoulder blades sending a shiver that ran like frost-fire down your spine He pushed you right back down until your cheek was resting on the sheets, and your back was arched like a ski slope. Grimmjow stepped up behind you and leaned over your back, his skin brushing against yours as he shifted from foot to foot. The rustling of fabric and the ribbon of black that arced through your peripheral vision confirmed what you suspected, and you tried to bend your neck far enough to get a peek at what Grimmjow now had on full display. Grimmjow, bastard that he was, side-stepped your line of sight with a snicker. You were about to protest when his other hand came down across your bare butt cheek with a sharp crack. “Ow!” you yelped, more from shock than anything. It was a glancing blow designed more for the sound and the reaction than anything. Grimmjow chuckled darkly, palming your ass where the blow had landed. This made you forget all about your flash of indignation as your eyelids slid shut with a hum of enjoyment. You bit your lip as Grimmjow’s large, strong hands slid up the backs of your thighs and over your ass before he gripped your hips with an answering hum of approval that made butterflies take wing in your stomach, very naughty butterflies that carried their embers of desire straight south before dissipating. “Up on those knees, princess,” he murmured, sounding distracted, but giving you some sort of warning for once before pulling you off of your feet by the hips and jostling your body forward until your knees were up on the edge of the bed. “Fucking hell!” “Oh, fuck!” The words came out in stereo as Grimmjow got a good look at your soaking pussy and you registered the reality that this was actually about to happen.

“Goddamn, woman,” Grimmjow drawled, caressing your thighs again and nudging your legs a little further apart before returning his hands to your backside. He let out a low whistle as he spread your cheeks apart for a better view. “You gotta change clothes every time you watch me spar, or you just walk around the shop like this all afternoon?” You looked back over your shoulder to see him leering at you with that trademark arrogant smirk. You tried to glare at him, but your eyes drifted south instead, taking in his flexing biceps and rippling abs on the way down. Hell, you couldn’t even be mad, not while you were staring at his cock, watching it bob as Grimmjow restlessly shifted his weight. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” you finally muttered, the comeback missing all of the necessary snark. You swallowed hard and pressed your teeth into your bottom lip again. “I’ll take that as a standing invitation, princess,” he said smoothly. Without missing a beat, he brought his hand down for another loud smack that reddened your ass, emphasizing that his remark wasn’t just teasing. And just in case you were in doubt, a second slap across the other cheek left a matching bloom of color in the shape of his hand. The sting was working its own magic, sending sparks of arousal along your nerves, but it was the way he was looking at you with raw, unbridled desire that was producing the empty ache just above your thighs. “Gods, Grimmjow! Just… get on with it!” Your demand sounded a lot more like a desperate whine than you would have liked, and Grimmjow smirked, kneading your ass before giving it a couple of more smacks for good measure. “What’s that princess? You want somethin’ from me?” he chuckled. “I think maybe your forgetting who’s in charge here.” He pressed a hand against the back of your hips and ran it up your spine, forcing your back into a steeper arch before his fingers closed around the back of your neck, holding you in that position. You could only cut your eyes to the side to see his face as he leaned over you slightly. There it was, that edge of danger, the reminder that this wasn’t your average human man; this was an arrancar with the power to snap your neck with a flick of his wrist. But for some insane reason, that just made the whole thing hotter.

Grimmjow licked his lips, fighting the urge to have you right that minute. You always had a fire in your eyes that he liked with enough fight in you to make your current position of submission that much more attractive, but what was driving him completely mad was that there was absolutely no fear in your eyes. To the contrary, you were not only willing but from the way your legs tensed up and your hips twitched, his dominance had you well beyond turned on. He wasn’t sure when the notion of caring anything about a pathetic human even entered his thoughts, but he made up his mind in that moment that you were his, and as far as Grimmjow was concerned, that was that. Your input was not required. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched him from the corner of your eye, the smirk dropping off of his face, replaced by a smoldering look of possession that had your walls clenching around nothing. You whined, your hips shifting in a pathetic display of neediness that had you flushed from both embarrassment and arousal. His grip loosened, his thumb pressing little circles into the side of your neck in a gesture that was both commanding and oddly affectionate. You didn’t have time to contemplate this before Grimmjow roughly cupped your sex, the heel of his hand jammed against the sensitive flesh just above your entrance. He pulled his hand back slowly, pressing a finger between your dripping folds with a low growl and circling your twitching hole with a calloused finger tip once, twice, before it was gliding up to circle your clit in torturously slow circles. You whined again, pushing your hips back, well beyond giving a damn about how desperate it made you look.

Grimmjow’s intention had been to tease you until he made you beg, but the way you were already begging with your body had worn his patience to the breaking point, and his last thread of restraint snapped. “Ssshit!” Grimmjow hissed as he plunged two fingers into your sopping cunt up to the second knuckle, your supple walls gripping his digits tightly. “Oohhh! Fuck yes!” you moaned, the sense of relief you felt palpable as he wasted no time pumping his fingers in and out of you. “Hmmm. Like that, do ya kitten?” You could feel Grimmjow’s warm breath on your back. His grip on your neck tightened as he leaned in to lick a hot stripe up your spine before nipping at the back of your shoulder. “Bet I’ll have you cumming on my fingers in less than a minute,” he whispered before letting go of your neck and straightening back up. “Now be a good girl and stay just like that.” You had no complaints about Grimmjow’s directive, and even if you did they would’ve been lost in a loud, sighing moan as his hand skimmed your ribs on its way to grab your breast, squeezing it firmly and pinching the tight peak between his thumb and forefinger. He never stopped pistoning his fingers into your pussy, sloppy sucking sounds mixing with your moans and his low growls as you shamelessly bucked your hips back against his hand. Grimmjow twisted his wrist and curled his fingers, searching for the softer part of your walls, the spot that turned your moans to whimpers and mumbled swearing. He had no trouble finding it, and you buried your face into the blanket to muffle the noise as his calloused digits pressed into it unerringly. You practically had a knot of blanket shoved between your teeth by the time you felt his thumb glide up through your slick to give your clit some teasing flicks. He gave a last hard tweak to your nipple, then pulled his hand back to land another slap squarely in the middle of one ass cheek so that the blow crossed the line into real pain before the sensation dissolved into pleasure. Your head popped up, the need to be quiet forgotten as you practically squealed his name. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s what I like to hear from my woman,” Grimmjow responded with a dark, breathy chuckle before muttering a few curses of his own.

He massaged the sting out of your backside, the sensation a delicious juxtaposition to the way he was rolling your clit hard under his thumb every time he plunged his fingers back into you. Each jab against your sweet spot was blissful torture that made your legs tremble and fed the heat pooling low in your belly. You let your head drop back to the mattress with a low groan, but Grimmjow had other ideas, pulling your head right back up by a fistful of hair. “Shit! Grimmjow, I—“ Whatever you were going to say was choked off with a strangled cry, your back arching so steeply that you thought it might break as you were shoved off an orgasmic cliff. Grimmjow’s hand didn’t still, continuing to work your pussy as it fluttered around his digits, the wet squelching noises only getting wetter and louder the more your juices trickled out around his fingers. As you started coming down from your high, you tried to squirm away from his hand, only to be met with another stinging slap to your ass before he dug his fingers into the fleshy side of your hip. “Where ya think you’re goin’ woman? I ain’t done yet,” he growled, but he did pull his hand away, giving your over sensitized clit a small reprieve. Very small.

You turned your head at the loud slurping sound just in time to see Grimmjow finish licking his fingers clean with a lazy smirk. A little moan wandered up from your throat and across the room as you tried to push yourself up on one elbow until you were halted by his hand returning to the back of your neck. You immediately stilled, realizing by now that putting up a fight would probably just get you a new round of teasing that you weren’t quite up for yet. There was a feral light in Grimmjow’s eyes that made a shiver run the length of your spine as he stepped up behind you, fisting his cock. He dragged the flushed tip through your slick and used it to nudge your swollen clit flashing a toothy grin at your whimper. “You sure about this, princess?” He gave your clit a couple of taps with the head of his dick before lining himself up with your twitching hole, affecting utter confidence in your answer. Despite his teasing and self-assured attitude, his half-lidded eyes and fingers nervously flexing against your neck gave him away; he wanted this, badly, and a part of him was worried that you’d lose your nerve. “Oh, Gods! Grimmjow!” His name stretched out into a plaintive moan. “Just pu—“ “Good,” he said, letting go of your neck to grab you by both hips and burying himself in your tight channel to the hilt with one quick snap of his hips.

Your eyes went wide, and you inhaled sharply as Grimmjow speared you on his cock, the stinging stretch making your eyes water. Your pussy clamped down on him as if protesting the sudden invasion and welcoming it at the same time. Grimmjow was blessedly still for a moment, his iron grip on your hips holding you in place as he let his head tip back with a low groan. Grimmjow had to take a moment to collect himself. It’d been a hot minute since he’d bothered with getting laid, so he knew you’d feel good, but he hadn’t expected you to feel this good. Yeah. There was definitely no way he was going to let some dumb-fuck, human man-child that probably couldn’t make you cum twice —if that—have you after this. Ever. And what you had to say about it be damned.

He didn’t hesitate for long before he started to move, steadily snapping his hips to drive into you deep and hard. There was no warming you up or easing you into it; he was all business from the word go. And so were you, it seemed, because you were already up on your elbows, back arched like a stretching cat. It wasn’t long before your fingers were twisting the sheets in a white-knuckled grip, something to give you leverage as you pushed your hips back to meet his. Not to be out done, Grimmjow propped one foot up on the edge of the bed next to yours and reached up to grab the top of your shoulder to keep from pounding you to the other side of the mattress with the increasing force of his thrusts. You could feel another orgasm building, coiling tightly low in your belly like a snake about to strike. Every time his hips met your ass, you got that much closer, your moans almost non-stop.

Then, Grimmjow suddenly pulled out. Your head whipped around like it was on a swivel, words of shocked protest on the tip of your tongue as you glared daggers. “Over!” he barked. “Hey! Why… What?” “I said turn over, woman!” Grimmjow didn’t have the patience to wait for your brain to catch up, and you went from looking at him over your shoulder to looking straight up into his wild blue eyes without quite knowing how it happened. Just as quickly, your leg was thrown up over his shoulder and he was sinking back into your hungry cunt, drawing twin groans of pleasure from you both. His already messy blue hair was even more disheveled, and a sheen of sweat covered his rippling muscles, which you could now see in full. Little mewls and panting moans were driven from your lungs with every savage thrust, his fingers digging into your hip hard enough to bruise as he held you still. Meanwhile, his eyes were glued to your tits, watching them sway each time he drove home. “Fuck you’re tight, princess,” Grimmjow ground out, teeth bared with the same look of intense focus he wore in a fight. His hand moved from your hip to your throat, his strong fingers curling just below your chin, a silent reminder that you were at his mercy. He groaned audibly as he felt your breath hitch under his palm, spurring him on. Removing his hand from your neck just long enough to hook his arm under your other knee, his solid frame leaning into the backs of your thighs. The way your hips bucked and your back arched didn’t escape his notice, and he plunged into you relentlessly, hitting your sweet spot with each stroke. “How ya like it, Kitten?” he growled, thumb caressing the base of your throat as he picked up the pace. “I’mma ruin that tight little pussy ‘til ya can’t even think about another guy.” “Oh my god! Grimmjow!” You let your head fall back against the pillow, the sound of skin slapping skin, his abuse of your G-spot, and those possessive words combining to elicit a long, ragged moan. “Oh my fuck! It’s so...fuckin’ good! So. so. so. Fuckin’. gooood!” You were babbling now. You knew you were, and some part of your mind knew you’d be getting teased about it later, but you lacked the ability to do fuck all about it because every muscle in your body felt drawn so tight that you thought you might shatter. Clutching at Grimmjow’s shoulders, you tried frantically to ground yourself even as he turned you into an incoherent, writhing mess. He leaned down to nip at your jaw practically folding you in two, and something in you snapped. All higher order thinking came to a shrieking halt, and you raked eight red scratches from his shoulders to waist provoking a deep, resonating growl.

Grimmjow’s back arched under your hands as you clawed him again, driving his hips forward until the head of his cock was kissing your cervix. This was a new experience that had your toes curling and pussy clenching until you could feel every hard inch of him dragging your walls with primal clarity. Grimmjow grunted when you tightened around him as all control threatened to escape his grasp.

“Yeah… That’s it princess,” he panted, planting his hands to either side of you and forcing your knees closer to your ears. “Ain’t stoppin’ ‘til ya cum all over my cock. Even if ya pass out.” he rasped. His words were punctuated by a series of brutal thrusts that made the bed frame groan just as loudly as you did.

Grimmjow’s words penetrated your cock-drunk daze, and your eyes rolled back, lids drifting shut as he went from railing you into the mattress to rutting into you with long, deep strokes. Your own hips flexed on instinct, rising to meet his as he ground down against your tender clit with each forceful roll of his hips. He pressed his thumb into the soft underside of your jaw, tilting your head to the side to expose the full arch of your throat, then shoved his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply before sinking his teeth into your shoulder there with a feral snarl.

Your eyes flew open with a strangled yelp that quickly turned into desperate whine as his tongue laved the purpling mark before he moved on to crashing his lips into yours in a possessive kiss. You could taste the faint metallic tang of blood as his tongue swept into your mouth, and the thought that Grimmjow had just done some sort of crazy ‘marking and claiming’ thing like you read about in your favorite smut novels was more than enough. You sunk your fingers into the back of his hair, tugging hard as every muscle in your body locked in place for a moment, clamping down on Grimmjow’s cock like a vice before the tension dissolved into boneless limbs and rhythmically pulsating walls.

Grimmjow swallowed your gasps and whines, grinding his hips against yours until you yanked his head back as you came with a stuttering moan. “FUCK!” he grunted as your cunt squeezed and rippled around him. A few more sloppy thrusts, then he slammed into you, his weight pinning you to the bed as he filled you with rope after rope of hot cum. You laid under him, arms limp on the bed and trembling legs flanking Grimmjow’s body as you struggled to catch your breath. After a few moments, you stretched experimentally, hissing at the ache in your hips and back. Grimmjow propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at you, his gaze drawn to the ring of purple on your shoulder. “Heh. Sorry ‘bout that, princess.” The shit-eating grin on his face told you he wasn’t a bit sorry, and he might even be planning to do it again. The look you were giving Grimmjow said you’d let him. Grimmjow carefully rolled onto his side, surprising you by pulling your back against his chest, tucking his knees behind yours and dropping a possessive arm across your waist. “Grimmjow?” You looked back at him over your shoulder, not quite sure what you were even trying to ask. “Rest up, princess. It’s a long time ‘til daybreak, and I still haven’t gotten to eat my cookie yet.”

Zaraki Kenpachi for the hot ask game! 😌

THANK U FOR THE ASK <3

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

he's fine as efffff....he's not my fav (for now :P) but he's got it going on for sureeeee 🔥🔥🔥

literally like if not love what is life about.........

maybe i was made for loving things. maybe that's what life is all about.

So uhm... I'll explain...

These two are awfully similar...

...and they're both linked to Gorillaz

...that's all

Happy belated birthday Shinji!

Had this idea running for a while, and decided to share it for his birthday! I’ve been obsessed with Severance and it gave me an idea. You don’t have to have watched Severance for this one-shot. Also Kubo acknowledged the inconsistent timeline with jazz and TBTP arc lmao, so I’m not gonna fix it either.

Summary: Shinji learns, in real time, how much music brings people together, time and time again.

CW: Angst, mild horror, time skipping, but it has a happy ending. SFW!

Word count: 4570

For what it was worth, Shinji dreaded most of the bureaucratic duties he was tasked with since becoming captain. He didn’t quite see himself as a leader, but oddly enough, it felt natural to command the Fifth Division. There were times where he wondered if he was doing what was right, what was necessary for his squad, but those doubts left as fast as they came. He never liked to entertain any unnecessary thoughts.

But it didn’t help that Sakanade was gleeful about Lieutenant Aizen. It left Shinji uneasy around his subordinate. An immediate repulsion that someone his zanpakuto resonated with made Shinji wary.

But there were perks to being a captain, he couldn’t deny that. One such perk was visiting the World of the Living more freely. Soul Society is, understandably, too militaristic for his liking. The breath of fresh air amongst living mortals was a one Shinji readily accepted.

He envied their exploration in the arts. It was something him and Captain Otoribashi bonded over. Living mortals were incredibly creative in their short lifespans, music, visual arts, storytelling, all of it left Shinji wanting more.

It had been a few years since Shinji’s last visit. One he was looking forward to. He wondered what new things humans discovered and shared amongst themselves.

Shinji’s gigai was as stiff as ever, as he trudged down the bustling streets. He cranked his neck from time to time, scoffing at the rigidness of the artificial body, “they need to get better at makin’ these” he grumbled.

But his sour mood wouldn’t stay for long. Springtime was in full bloom in the World of the Living, as trees were dotted with buds and blossoms, signs of warmer weather to come. He took his time exploring the city. There were new art trends, galleries to visit and clothing stores to shop at. And his new Captain income was certainly another perk in coming here.

Yet he didn’t buy much at this visit, not many things caught his eye, but as he walked towards the area of where his Senkaimon gate was, he heard music playing in an innocuous-looking store.

“Sure, why the hell not.” Shinji mumbled.  

He stepped into the group of people as he tried to make his way through the front of whatever they were circled around. The music grew louder and louder the closer he approached.

In the centre of the throngs of people, stood some kind of device, it was spinning something, with a horn-like object playing music from it. “What the hell is it?”

“It’s a phonograph!” You chirped up. Shinji looked at you, but you were enthralled in the device, your eyes sparkling with wonder and enjoyment.

You seemed… friendly and you seemed to know what it was about. He scooted his way over to you as more people piled in his spot. He had questions he needed answering.

“So how does it work?” He asks, standing right next to you.

You jumped at the sound of his voice, to which he chuckled. “Oh,” you sheepishly said, “gimme a moment and I’ll get back to you.”

Shinji stood there, listening to the music, and watching you. He didn’t quite… care for the music, it sounded like a western military band for his tastes, but he enjoyed the reactions you gave to it. Well, not to the music…

As Shinji watched you from the corner of his eye, he could see your eyes dart around the device. The music was secondary, it was the device itself that you were starstruck by. He wasn’t sure how long the two of you stood there for, but he realize, the song had started again.

“Hey, so how about my question earlier?” He mumbled.

You looked at him with surprise, “I didn’t think you’d still be here!” And now you felt guilty. You took a glance at the phonograph, then back at Shinji. Maybe it’ll be quick and you can come back inside?

So you pulled him out of the shop. Dusk was settling into the streets, with the faint hum of cicadas fading away.

“You asked me how it works, right?” You asked him, finally getting a look at him. You had never seen this man before. He looked a bit unusual to you with his long blonde hair, and his straight, yet white, teeth.

“Yeah, you knew what it was.” Shinji explained, wondering if he was wasting his time.

“So that was a phonograph, the first of its kind!” You exclaimed. “That disc you saw, that was going round and round,” you twirled your fingers in the air, “has vibrations recorded on to it.” Your eyes were sparkling again, and with the glow of dusk behind you, Shinji had to admit you were pretty cute. “Those vibrations are music!”

“Wow, how do you know about this?” He asked, giving her a look.

You looked embarrassed, flustered even, “I’m a maid at the inventor’s house,” you looked at the ground.

Ah right, Shinji surmised. The few drawbacks of the World of the Living, the sorry state of women’s education.

“Well ya did a good job explaining it to me.” He ruffled your head, “you did your boss proud.”

You blushed at the compliment, “thank you!”

“I’m Shinji by the way.”

You introduced yourself as well, as you began to relax around the man. He had more technical questions about the device, and you hoped you could answer them as well as your boss explained to you.

Night was drawing near, and so was your hunger. Your stomach grumbled loudly, leaving you embarrassed.

“Hey, I took up a lot of yer time today.” Shinji drawled, “I’ll treat you to dinner, least I can do.” He shrug his shoulder, “I’m new here though, so take me to a place ya like.”

“Oh, ok!” That would explain the foreign air the man, Shinji, gave off. His accent was oddly charming. The two of you strolled down the street, enjoying the light conversation and the fading sound of the phonograph.

Shinji, the mysterious man of your youth, made frequent visits to you once he found out your days off or when your shift ended. It embarrassed you at first, for him to see you in your maid uniform, but he would give his Cheshire grin and say you looked cute regardless.

Hand in hand, the two of you would walk across the city, as you instilled in him a love for music. So much so, you would sing for him. At first, you were embarrassed, but Shinji was enamoured. You wrote lyrics to the music that the phonograph would play and eventually sang them to Shinji. “I’ll always be your number one fan, babe.” He would chuckle, kissing you on the lips.

Tonight though, you told him that your boss hoped that his invention would bring people together.

“I think he did that, eh?” Shinji chuckled, squeezing your hand.

You smiled, squeezing his hand in return, “he did, but –”

“But?”

“I hope this means we hear more and different kinds of music.” You murmured, as the two of you listened to the phonograph in store.

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know, but this gives people something to think about, you know?” You said softly, wondering what kind of music, sounds, noises, people would record. “I just think it’s exciting.”

 Shinji couldn’t help but smile at your thought, “yeah, yer right about that. And that means I can hear you sing more and more.” You blushed as you shoved Shinji away, his laughter filling your ears.

Shinji decided to buy a phonograph for you (and for him). A gift from him you could hold on to when Soul Society was too demanding of him, and he couldn’t see you. His heart fluttered as you cried at his gift, shocked that he would buy something so expensive for someone like you. You wrote a particular song for him that night, a song to show your appreciation and love for him.

But you were special to him – special in a way he couldn’t say. Unlike you, his words bubbled up in his throat, to only pop and vanish once he opened his mouth. He could only hug and kiss you. Physically showing his sincerity for you.

But maybe, his gift was too much for you.

Shinji stared at the barricaded apartment – he had only been gone a few days. But in that small window of time, someone had broken into your home and murdered you, stealing the phonograph in the process.

Human lives… were short… but this was cruel.

Music filled Shinji’s office in the Squad 5 barracks. He fixed his bangs in the mirror. Sometimes, he could hear your voice, song and laughter, as if teasing him about how transfixed he was on his hair.

He made his record player louder.

How many years had it been since your murder? 20 years? 40 years? It bothered Shinji that he continued to grow and “live” (or live as well as any Shinigami could), while you were becoming a distant memory, one he dreaded losing to time.

Some days, like today, he wondered if it was worth exploring Rukongai for you. “But that’s like finding a needle in a hay stack,” he mumbled, lowering the volume of his music.

“Finding what, Captain?” Lieutenant Aizen asked, appearing at the door of Shinji’s office.

It grated Shinji to no end how his lieutenant appeared at such convenient times, as if he was trying to catch Shinji off guard.

Might as well give this dog a bone Shinji thought to himself, wondering what motive Aizen was playing at.

“Can ya get me the records of the souls that entered in the past 50 years?”

Aizen gave a confused look, “what for, sir?”

“I got a bone to pick with a human – they owe me something.”

“I see…” Aizen said, disbelief covering his face, “I’ll get on that.”

“Ya better, now get outta here Sosuke, got a Captain’s meeting comin’” He shooed Aizen away, wondering if the lieutenant would be a nuisance somehow.

As much grief as Shinji and Sosuke gave each other, Shinji hated to admit that the man did do his work diligently. After the captains’ meeting, Shinji was greeted with a stack of entries of all new souls that had entered in the past 50 years or so.

Soul Society, for all its bureaucracy and idiosyncrasies, collected information on souls that were entering, documenting their age, and if possible, their “category” of death. Shinji waded through the papers, scanning and skimming to find your name amongst the thousands that have passed.

He started with the oldest entries. He knew Sosuke would get overtly suspicious if he asked him for files from a specific set of years, so he would feign interest with the newer souls that had passed.

And within a few hours, he found your name. Shinji let out a sigh, partly of relief – knowing that you passed on without having the need for a Shinigami nor did you interact with a hollow, but sad that you were now in Rukongai District 48 South. Not as dangerous as those past 60, but he knew the conditions of many of the districts were in poor shape.

“Captain, I may be of help since you’re looking for someone specific.” His lieutenant approached. Shinji wanted to roll his eyes but wanted to mess with his lieutenant a little.

“If ya want to, sure.” Shinji responded, flipping through documents haphazardly. “I’m looking for a Taichi Suzuki, from Nakasu.”

Sosuke nodded his head and began to flip through the newer entries, as Shinji pretended to flip through others. The office began to darken as nightfall approached. Only the sounds of paper shuffling could be heard.

“I think I found them, sir.” Sosuke said calmly, holding the paper.

“Gimme that…” And Shinji wanted to laugh, there was a Taichi Suzuki from Nakasu in District 48 South.

"Great find, Sosuke!" Shinji wanted to cackle but gave a cheshire grin as he swiped the document out of his lieutenant’s hands.

“Let’s call it a day, see ya bright an early tomorrow.” Sosuke nodded his head as he made his leave.

Once Shinji was certain he was alone, he rubbed his face, sighing. It was one of the rare times in his life where he felt nervous. You had been in Soul Society for 50 years; would you even remember him?

But that was a problem for tomorrow. For now, his bed was calling his name.

Rukongai District 48 South was an inconspicuous place, like many of the other districts in the 40s. The houses were shabbier than the ones before it, but there was still some semblance of a town that people resided in, rather than the scant huts that were in the 50s and 60s.

Shinji casually strolled down the worn paths, opting to leave his captain’s haori in the Squad 5 barracks. He wasn’t here on official business, so there was no need to scare off the townsfolk of his presence. He would look like any other random fodder of Shinigami passing by.

There wasn’t anything remarkable that made the district standout. Some districts were known for their agricultural endeavours, while others for fashion or even furniture. But District 49 North was as unremarkable as they come. There wasn’t a even a flutter of spiritual pressure in the vicinity.

Shinji walked into a busy tea shop. He wasn’t particularly hungry or thirsty, but oftentimes these were the best places for information. Finding an empty table, he strummed his fingers waiting to be served. The conversations seemed to be irrelevant to what he was looking for.

“What nice weather we’re having.”

“We haven’t had much rain though. Not good for the crops.”

“Well the river is teeming with fish.”

He let out a yawn as he continued to wait, with nothing of interest to capture his attention.

“Sorry for the wait, sir! What would you like?”

Shinji’s eyes widen at you, deep in an apologetic bow, not yet lifting yourself up.

“Hey, doll. Long time, no see.” Shinji cooly said, a small grin on his face.

You gasped and screeched, alerting the other customers. You quickly apologized to the other patrons before heading to the back, asking for a small break.

Shinji couldn’t help but smile. You remembered him just fine.

Shinji conveniently paid the tea shop owners a hefty sum to let you free for the day, and they didn’t bat an eye. Just like when you were alive, Shinji continued to amaze you.

“How are you likin’ it here? You ok?” He asked, as the two of you sat along the river.

“It’s… fine? I guess. It’s strange not needing to eat.” You explained. “But some nights I get to sing to customers.” You gave a sheepish smile, “I think I’m getting better.”

“I miss hearin’ ya sing for me, doll.” Shinji murmured, cupping your face in his hand. You gave him a warm smile and began to hum an old tune, a song he hadn’t heard in decades. You began to sing softly to him, words long forgotten that he yearned to remember.

But once your song was over, you opened your eyes, confusion evident in them, “I don’t get it, Shinji – are you dead too?”

Shinji sighed and scratched the back of his head. He had a lot to explain to you.

“I can explain it to you if ya want, but it’s long.”

You gave him a gentle smile, as you placed your hand on top of his, “For you, I have all the time in the world.”

Shinji felt his heart flutter.

It took another decade, but Shinji was adamant on moving you into Rukongai District 2. He kept that paperwork separately, lest Lieutenant Aizen find out. But Old Man Yamamoto was a traditionalist, and moving a random soul between districts was unheard of, and almost always, immediately rejected.

Unless you were married.

Did… did you want to be married to Shinji? His mind wracked with all the ways you would say no.

There’s just no way you would agree, right? Maybe if he phrased it as a mutual, as a beneficial thing for you?

But you weren’t like that, Shinji knew as much. You didn’t ask for much, especially from him. You had repeatedly told him that seeing him again, being with him again and being together, was more than enough.

“Ah fuck it.” He grumbled, pulling an ornate box out. It was a kimono of exquisite silk and hand painted gold embellishments… his heart thudded loudly.

He made his way to District 48 North, to where you lived near the tea shop. Shinji had paid the board and rent for you, letting you keep your earnings. But as he made his way through the town, there was not a soul in sight.

Shinji grew tense with every step he made towards your home. There was no one, not a single soul present. Normally he would hear the chattering of everyday conversation, of some random children playing, but it was completely silent.

He flashed stepped towards the tea shop, dropping the box on to the ground. Blood and torn clothes were strewn all over the entrance to the shop. He could hear something inside the shop, something moving. The spiritual pressure was insignificant compared to a hollow or a seated Shinigami member, but in a district where there was no one with spiritual pressure to begin with, this was unusual to him.

Shinji quickly entered the shop and drew out his sword. He took in a deep breath as he witnessed the scene in front of him. There, in the middle of the once busy tea shop, were half eaten bodies, and some… creature gnawing on your lifeless one.

They looked hollow-like, but human sized. Without hesitation, Shinji swung his sword, killing the creature. Your body dropped onto the ground, your lifeless eyes staring at him. Shinji fell to his knees, cradling your body before running his fingers over your eyes.

His heart began to sink as your body began to fade. He quickly weaved a message to his squad, knowing that an investigation would take place soon.

But before they would come, Shinji weaved a kido spell, setting alight the kimono.

Shinji sighed as he stared at the city lights out over the horizon. Being exiled was strange. He was… free, yet not free. He could roam the World of the Living to his hearts content, but…

He hated to admit it, but he missed Soul Society.

But one thing the World of the Living did better were clothes, food and music. He didn’t care much for food, but the sheer variety astounded him. Lisa had brought pizza which he had never heard about before, but devoured immediately (much to the fury of Hiyori). Tiramisu? Hamburgers? Smoothies? He felt like he was quicker on the pulse here compared to whatever Soul Society was feeding its soldiers.

But then… there was the music. Him and Rose bonded over the different genres of music humans were producing. There were some genres he didn’t care for, but others that grabbed at him. Rose was partial to classical and rock music, but Shinji’s tastes were more “eclectic.”

He grew fond of the radio, hearing the Top 40 of any country he could find his hands on. He began to collect vinyl records of musicians he enjoyed, of unique and interesting instruments he had never heard of (Shinji immediately bought a theremin for his personal collection).

In a small part of his mind, he wondered what you would think of this. What genres would you like? The slow and calming sounds of ambient music? Or the clever and witty rhymes of hip-hop? Would you enjoy concerts? Dance clubs?

But those thoughts were becoming less frequent. He had to move on. He would hold on to his grudge for Aizen, crave revenge for not only him and the Visoreds, but also for you, but his “exile” would be to experience life for you.

 Tokyo was as bustling as ever in the night. Party goers laughing, crying and shouting, enjoying their night as Shinji walked by them. He could hear different songs play from the many shops and establishments he passed by, some were songs he recognized, others he didn’t particularly cared for.

Until he heard a familiar voice.

He swung his head to a random bar blasting a song. Shock was all over his face as he recognized that voice.

It was you!

Shinji barged inside to the few patrons enjoying their drinks and conversation. In a small corner of the bar, laid a TV with the singer, the singer with your voice.

“Oi, barkeep” Shinji shouted, trying to catch the bartender’s attention. The bartender, an older man, looked at Shinji.

“I’ll take an old fashioned and –” Shinji pointed the TV, “do you know who that is?”

The bartender looked surprised at the question but shook his head.

A patron next to Shinji, in a drunken stupor, laughed and slapped Shinji’s back, telling the name of the singer.

“She’s up and coming ya know! Got quite a following.”

“Do ya know if she’s playing a concert anytime soon?”

“Nah, but she’s got a fan club if yer interested.” The man burped, taking a pen out. He wrote the address of the fan club.

Shinji slapped his change for the drink, but bolted out the bar as soon as the song ended, his drink completely untouched.

Shinji was aware of idol culture, but he didn’t expect a similar culture for up-and-coming singers, such as you.. well was it you?

The singer sounded exactly like you, the mannerisms were eerily the same, you just wore modern clothing, your hair styled with the current trends of the time.

And you still smiled the same way that would make his heart flutter.

He had never spoke to you though, watching from a distance as you sang to the crowd. You would close your eyes at some lyrics, as if in a trance. Your songwriting astounded him, how much it sounded as if you from the past wrote it.

It had to be you. It had to be your reincarnation.

Tonight your manager, or whoever this person was organizing the event, announced that there would be a meet and greet at the end of tonight’s show. The crowd cheered as you waved politely.

Shinji took a deep breath; it was now or never.

The meet and greet was a fairly short affair. To his surprise, not many people wanted to meet with you, but that worked in his favour.

He was one of the last remaining concertgoers and he could see the weariness in your eyes. You were becoming exhausted, but you kept your smile for every fan that came your way. And now it was his turn.

Shinji extended his hand, “yer songs are beautiful.” He murmured.

You immediately grabbed his hand but jolted at the touch. Your eyes met.

“I – thank you.” You stammered, “have we met before?”

Shinji shook his head, letting go of your hand, “no, I’m just a fan of yer music.” He grinned.

You gave a look to your manager, but Shinji let go, making way for the next fan to come to you.

He slowly began to walk out of the venue before he heard yelling behind him, it was your manager. “Wait!”

Shinji stopped, letting the manager catch their breath. “I – she wants to talk to you once she’s done.”

Shinji raised his eyebrows, a flicker of hope growing inside him, but he knew better to have any expectations. He would hear you out and the two of you would go your separate ways.

He was ushered into your changing room. It wasn’t much of a room, he could see a backpack, water bottles, and some snacks. He felt guilty for some reason – should he have brought flowers?

He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Memories of you over time flashed over his mind, frustrating him. It didn’t help your voice was stuck in his head too.

“Thank you for waiting.” You barged into the room, bowing deeply at Shinji.

“It’s no problem.” He replied, waving his hand. “What’s up?”

“I just – are you sure we haven’t met?”

Shinji shook his head, “you probably saw me around a lot at yer shows.” He said softly. “I’m a big fan.”

You looked at him with confusion, “no, I swear I’ve met you before…”

Shinji shrugged his shoulders, “maybe yer used to seeing me in the crowd. This is my first time going to your meet-and-greet though.”

You sighed loudly, examining Shinji’s face. This man looked so familiar to you. His voice even sounded familiar too.

And then realization hit you, with heat spreading to your cheeks. Shinji looked at you with a curious expression, wondering what had gotten you quiet and flustered.

“This is so embarrassing,” you mumbled, “but I think I remember where.”

“Where?”

“… my dreams.”

Shinji raised his eyebrows, “I mean, maybe because I’ve been in the crowd.”

“No!” You yelled, “I mean, you looked a bit different.”

Shinji shut his mouth, letting you continue.

“You had… longer hair, much longer.” You clicked your tongue, “and I don’t think you had a piercing.” Shinji grew alarmed. “You also wore… some kind of white haori with black clothing? And carried a sword.”

Shinji sighed. He could deny this, letting you wonder, and never appearing again… but what kind of chance was this? “Fate is truly a fickle woman.”

You gave him a confused look.

“How long have ya got? There’s a lot to tell you.”

“All night.” You grinned proudly, “tell me everything Mister…”

“Shinji, just call me Shinji. Ya never did call me by my last name anyways.”

You stared at him with another confused look on your face.

Momo ran down the halls of the Squad 5 barracks in a hurry. She clutched the paperwork to her chest tightly as she sprinted past her fellow seated members, down to Captain Hirako’s office.

She panted as she entered, “I have some –” as she exhaled, “papers that require your immediate signature, sir.”

Shinji placed a new record into his player, letting it play as he got seated into desk, “sure thing, Momo. Bring ‘em here.”

Momo dropped the documents on to his desk and immediately sat down on the other chair, letting the music play as Shinji skimmed through the documents. The voice sounded familiar, “sir, is this by that one popular singer in the World of the Living?”

“Yeah it is,” he said, without looking up from his paper, “I’m her biggest fan.”

“Really?!” Momo exclaimed, “I like a lot of her songs, she’s so talented.”

“She sure is,” Shinji grinned, putting down his pen.

“But I haven’t heard this song of her’s before. Is it new?”

“I wouldn’t say new…” Shinji drawled, “but a limited, unreleased one.”

“It’s beautiful.” Momo sighed, as she continued listening to the song. Shinji smiled, humming along to the song.

For just anyone, It is not, I told you, It is only just for you I do not want it to be just once I want my song to reach you right now And the next year too Let the two of us together Go watch the cherry blossoms

Reader made a special EP for Shinji's birthday hahaha. THANKS FOR READING!!! The song at the end is the translated bits from "Yamazakura" by Taeko Onuki.

Edit: forgot to explain some things LOL

Taichi Suzuki from Nakasu is a reference to Yakuza 5 (Kiryu’s alias in the red light district)

Wedding rings weren’t really a thing in Japan until post-WWII. Usually a woman wore her obi and kimono a particular way to signify that she was married. I decided to have Shinji gift her a kimono as an engagement present of sorts.

soft Kisuke you have my heart <3

I love my lonely, silly, manipulative king 🙂‍↕️

A sad little Kisuke WIP, his puppy eyes make me wanna RIP MY SKIN OFFFFFFF URGH