Happy Belated Birthday Shinji!

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.

Tags

bleach bleach x reader hirako shinji bleach x you shinji hirako shinji hirako x reader hirako shinji x reader I LOVE HIM SO MUCH IM UGLY CRYING bleach shinji shinji hirako x you hirako shinji x you

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i've got some for him too 😈

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darthwhorecrux

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it literally just keeps getting worse :/ i'm so tired

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darthwhorecrux

1 month ago

gotta bring this back up ☝🏻 no i won't ever shut up about it

—I trip and fall in love just like a Tuesday drunk

I always go all in, all in, all in

Over the handlebars, hittin’ the ground so hard

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This is based on this AMAZING CUTIE fic @darthwhorecrux wrote!! GO READ IT. IT’S SO CUTE AND FUNNY 🤭 I was giggling and kicking my feet the whole time! :

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darthwhorecrux

2 months ago

TW: smut, we all know Kisuke a freak :P

Kisuke's shy s/o who he'd been pleading with to sit on his face for some time now, you thought tonight may be the the night that you've worked up enough courage to agree to it.

"Kisuke?" You approached him timidly.

"Hm?" He was only half paying attention, busy at work on something in his shop.

Here it goes. Fear caught the words in your throat, but you forced it down, swallowing hard. "Would you want to try that thing you've been mentioning?" Hesitation, and then, "you know, sit - sitting on your face?"

At the sound of that, he perked up, nearly letting what he was doing clatter to the ground. After almost dropping a handful of gadgets, he carelessly tossed them aside, turning his body square with yours. "Right now? You're serious?"

You took a step back. "If you're too busy-"

He grabbed your waist, pulling you back in. "Never too busy for you, sweet cheeks." He grinned. "Especially if it's for that. I'm just a little surprised. What made you finally come around to the idea?" He was swaying you in his hold, his tone flirtatious, setting butterflies loose in your stomach (and pussy).

You shrugged. "It makes me nervous, but I want to try it. I can't be a scaredy cat forever, can I?"

"Cutie," Kisuke mused, dipping his head to nuzzle his nose against yours, his hat poking your head. He took it off and held it to his chest earnestly. "You have nothing to fear. I'm gonna make it worth your while. You know I will, yeah?"

"Mhm." You nodded, reminiscing on your previous escapades with him. He never fell short of satisfying you, that's for sure. You simply worried you weren't going to be enough for him. Or too much.

But to be so insecure with your goofy, eccentric, open-minded boyfriend, it was nonsense. You weren't going to let it dictate your experiences, especially when there were so many delicious ones to be had.

"Let's quit wasting time hangin' around here then." He whisked you inside, headed for the bedroom, unable to contain his eagerness.

This wasn't your first tango with Kisuke. You comfortably got undressed with him, ending up bare in his lap, drooling into his mouth at the feeling of your flesh against his, your curves soft amongst his chiseled figure. Everything was going fine, and you were dripping without even needing him to touch you down there. Everything was going fine until he was pulling away from your lips and laying back, getting into position.

Your mind immediately started to conjure worst case scenarios; suffocating him, injuring his neck, anything and everything that absolutely wouldn't happened but that still held so much power over you. It made you want to back out, to change your mind. Seeing him look up at you with that lazy smile that was so different from the panic settling into your features, panic that was quickly dissolving your pleasure, made you climb out of his lap and kneel at his side, covering your chest.

"Uh oh." He raised his eyebrows. "What's going on?"

"You're sure it won't be too much?" You fretted, arms curling tighter around yourself. "I won't be too heavy?"

"Don't worry about me." He laid a hand on your thigh, giving it an affectionate squeeze. "I think I'm definitely more excited for this than you are," he chuckled, gesturing to his hardening cock.

It was enough to make you giggle for a moment, but as soon as you were looking back at his handsome face, worrying about being on top of it, you couldn't budge.

"I can handle it just fine, angel," he continued to talk you down from your anxiety gently, though you could sense his patience was running thin with the way he groped your thigh. "Don't look so worried. Just relax and enjoy it. Can you do that for me?"

You sighed, too quiet for him to hear. "I'll do my best."

"As will I. I don't think you'll have an issue once we get into it." He smirked suggestively.

You still didn't move, brows crinkled and mouth pulled into a frown.

In his expectant stare, you could see the gears turning in his head. Kisuke thought back to the first few times you laid with him, how you were just as shy and reluctant. He'd gotten you out of your comfort zone before, and he could do it again. "Want me to get the lights?"

You nodded eagerly. A little darkness could definitely help. That way you wouldn't have to see clearly how vulgar your thighs looked around his head.

"You got it, pretty." He shot up and gave you a rushed kiss on the cheek before bouncing off of the bed, hitting the lights and plunging the room into darkness, nothing but the moonlight to guide the way.

You dropped your arms back to your sides, breathing a little easier as Kisuke got back into bed, resuming his position. There was a peacefulness, a safety that came with the darkness at a time like this. Your racing heart was slowing. You climbed back over him, straddling his lap, stealing some more kisses before it came time to place another pair of lips on his.

He was groaning impatiently, trying to keep his hips down from grinding up into yours. You lifted your head and started to crawl upwards, attempting to smoothly transition into the deed. You dared a glimpse down at Kisuke, who was smiling like a kid in a candy store.

"Ready?" You giggled at him.

"So fucking ready baby." He snaked his hands around your thighs.

You inhaled sharply, closing the distance and lowering yourself down.

You hadn't put your full weight down yet. His nuzzling into you from below, warm, wet tongue delving into your folds, was a shocking jolt to your system. You gasped and twitched, subconsciously lifting away slightly, running from his tongue.

"All the way down," he ordered from beneath you, his deep voice vibrating through your core.

"But-!"

His fingers dug into your thighs, a silent warning. He wasn't a punishing lover by any means, but he made it known that he didn't like to be disobeyed.

You worried for him, but orders were orders. You sank down, finally fully sitting on his face. He hummed contentedly below you, going back to making out with your soaking cunt.

Your nerves were quickly replaced by your pleasure, and sitting atop him now, it felt silly to ever be afraid of doing such a thing. This was Kisuke. Where you were now felt like where you were always meant to be with him. You had thought it unnatural, but with his tongue diving in and out of you, you felt closer to nature than ever, an animalistic desire springing to life from within.

He devoured you with that same wild energy, a predator sucking the life from its prey. Your whimpers and pants fueled him to suck your clit and tongue-fuck you hungrily. It was his personal heaven to have you on top, but still his little plaything, making a mess on his face, but still a mess yourself, losing control when you normally held onto such a thing with a vise grip. He liked to be able to take care of you in this way. It was everything he imagined and more.

Your own mind was blown, waves of pleasure racking through your body. Without meaning to, you caught yourself rolling your hips against his face, stopping and stilling out of decency. But Kisuke didn't want you to be decent. He was blindly fumbling for your hip, pulling on you to encourage you to keep riding his face, to use him to seek out your own pleasure. With his permission, you continued to hump his mouth, white-knuckling the headboard for support. He was humming and groaning against you, sending new waves scattering through your torso.

Your thighs were trembling around his head, upper body falling forward as you struggled to keep upright. The longer he relentlessly carried on, the more desperate you became, tugging on his blonde locks, dragging your slick against his lips with fervor. He never once let up, even as you drenched the entirety of his mouth, chin, his stubble, everywhere. If he was struggling, he didn't let it show in the slightest, taking it like a man.

Heat and pressure churned in your abdomen, making you sweat and taking the sense out of you. You had been reborn, an entirely different person from the one you were earlier. The shy girl had been replaced by one who was crying loudly and shamelessly, fucking her boyfriend's face with a longing to cum. It made Kisuke's own private area twitch, his tip swollen and leaky, imagining the feel of your sopping cunt around it. His hips were lifting on their own accord, flinching each time you sobbed out a moan. It was agony and ecstasy at the same time, feeling your pussy throb against his tongue, hearing you approaching your climax, but denying his cock the experience.

Your body shuddered and weakened with your orgasm, arms hanging like jelly against the headboard. So as not to suffocate him completely by falling over him, you dismounted from your position atop his head, unceremoniously collapsing at his side with a mess between your legs. His face was even worse, glistening with your essence as he gasped for air, but he was smiling stupidly, triumphantly, drunk off of your pussy.

"My cutie scaredy cat," he said huskily with labored breaths. "You did so good."

You melted at his praise, snuggling into him and whining shyly into his neck. "Felt so good, Kisuke," you mumbled. "Thank you for taking such good care of me. It wasn't too difficult for you?"

"Difficult? You kiddin' me?" He chuckled smugly. "That's my new happy place, so I hope you're not pretending that you enjoyed it. We'll be having a lot more of that now that you're acquainted with it."

"Oh, I think I'm more than acquainted." You laughed elatedly. "Maybe next time I'll let you leave the lights on."

"Good. Want to get a good view of my pretty lady and her pretty pussy." He winked.

The way he said it with such casualness, it made you want to give him that view right now. Your eyes drifted down to his dick, still somewhat hard and neglected.

"Have energy for round two?" You were surprised to hear yourself say. It was your pussy talking for sure. "I can turn the lights on and get back on top," you suggested. "But this time, I can give you some help with that." You nodded towards his length.

Kisuke easily picked up what you were putting down, eyes widening, he couldn't be more excited that he was going to have you sitting on his face twice in one night and once in the 69 position. He groaned and cursed under his breath. "You're killin' me. Of course I've got energy for round two. Just don't be surprised if I cum quick. He's been through a lot already." He gestured between his thighs.

"We can make it a fun little game." You grinned deviously. "Who can make the other cum first?"

"Oh, you're on, sweets. You'd better be careful what you wish for, though."

Tags

anime x reader bleach smut bleach x reader bleach urahara urahara kisuke x reader anime smut kisuke bleach kisuke urahara urahara kisuke kisuke urahara x reader Kisuke urahara kisuke smut kisuke urahara smut i'm ovulating rn sorry not sorry

212 notes View Post

darthwhorecrux

2 months ago

The Last Petal

Shunsui x widow reader (Jushiro's wife)

2.5k

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

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

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

One month post-war.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have no physical injuries”, you argued.

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

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

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

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

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

-flashback-

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

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

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

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

————

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

My dear wife,

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

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

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

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

And now he shall.

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

Your loving husband,

— Jushiro

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But at what cost?

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

Tags

bleach bleach x reader ukitake jushiro x reader shunsui kyoraku jushiro ukitake bleach shunsui bleach jushiro shunsui bleach kyouraku shunsui shunsui x reader

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darthwhorecrux

1 month ago

💜✨send this to ten other bloggers that you think are wonderful. keep the game going, make someone smile!!! ✨💜