It's True, He Does Always Say That About The Cute Girls (speaking From Experience)

TW: SMUUUT 🗣️, Grimmy gets pretty rough, a little bit of degradation, breeding, the works :D

Grimmjow couldn't stand you.

You were a brat if there ever was one and far too comfortable speaking to him with disrespect on a daily basis. He couldn't stand you, but every time you spoke to him brazenly, mocked him, taunted him, and infuriated him, it made him want to stuff that big mouth of yours with his cock. He couldn't stand you, but if and when he got the chance, he was going to show you what he did to brats like you. He didn't need to like you to fuck you good and hard like you deserved.

He was already annoyed enough today, and there you were, as usual, saying something to piss him off even more. "Hey, quick question, do you ever stop talking?"

His eyes widened, anger flaring like scorching blue flames. You enjoyed just how easy it was to get under his skin. He was so simple, fists clenching at his sides before one of them slammed on the table in front of you. "What did you just say?! Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"I guess that means no," you sighed, suppressing an amused grin.

The truth was, you liked riling him up and did so intentionally. You liked watching the veins swell in his hands, arms and forehead because it was hot. He was hot. Watching him get mad had you fantasizing about just how roughly he'd manhandle you, how he'd meanly bully his cock into your tight cunt, how he'd have you crying and gagging on it. You weren't going to stop pushing his buttons until he was undoing yours.

"You're lucky I don't hit girls," he growled, his hands twitching, clenching and unclenching as if he was currently resisting the urge.

"That's too bad," you said, smirking lazily.

*

*

*

Later, he proved to be a liar. He was hitting you, his hand coming down hard over and over again to smack your ass as he drilled into you from behind. He still didn't know how to stop talking, though you didn't mind it much now, clenching around him while he yanked you up by your hair to spew filth directly into your ear.

"Not so cocky now, are you? Huh?" He panted, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. "Where's that smirk, little girl? Your snide comments? Haven't you got anything to say?"

You couldn't reply, not with how cruelly he was pounding into you, his tip striking hard and deep, as furious as he was. All you could do was moan and whine dumbly. You may have bested him with your words earlier, but in the bedroom, he'd definitely won, just the way you wanted him to.

"That's what I thought," he laughed when you didn't respond. "Can't handle my fat cock and talk back to me at the same time. You're too busy making a mess of my sheets and whining like a bitch."

He threw you back into the mattress, pinning you down with his weight as his hips snapped against your ass. He thought he was teaching you a lesson, but it was your personal heaven, getting caged in by his big biceps and having your pussy ruined by his throbbing length. You could hardly breathe, suffocating under his weight, head under water with nothing but the sound of his grunts and growls right into your ear. You thought it'd be a pleasant way to die.

Then he suddenly left you, and before you had the chance to mourn the loss of his heat and fullness in between your legs, he was manhandling you onto your back, folding you into a mating press and fucking back into you, smirking maliciously at your dumbfounded expression.

"I want to see what you look like when you cum all over my cock," he snarled in explanation before wrapping his hand around your neck to hold you in place. "Maybe I'll fill you up. You want that, slut?"

"Yes!" You choked out, eyes rolling back as he stretched your legs to their max, going impossibly deeper inside you than he had been. Each thrust felt like a shock to your system, a terrifying yet exciting loss of control of your body.

He was shamelessly staring at himself thrusting in and out of you, at your tits bouncing, and at the tears leaking out of your eyes. It made him go feral, the sight of your defeat. He knew you were all talk, so outspoken yet so easy to break. It was music to his ears how pathetic you sounded. Now he just needed you squirting all over him before he unleashed his load into you. Only then would it truly be his victory.

He knew by the high-pitched squeals and whines you were making that you were close, and so he stayed focused and didn't hold back, maintaining his brutal pace until your legs were trembling, glassy eyes squeezing shut and loud mouth crying out as if you were being tortured. He lowered himself against you, fucking you through your orgasm as you wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding him to his word that he would fill you up. Moments later, he did, biting your neck and groaning into it as he twitched inside of you, shooting thick, white ropes of his seed into your walls. He pulled out to watch it leak out of you, mesmerized by how cute your bratty pussy was with his juices oozing out.

He collapsed at your side. He'd finally bested you, finally taught you a lesson, and you'd finally learned just how good of a fuck he was. You stressed him out, but he had finally taken that stress out on you. For the first time in a while, he felt at ease, one could even say peaceful. Your body and your energy was a much needed break for his nervous system, and he was starting to discover a newfound appreciation for you as you quietly came down from your high beside him.

He watched you carefully as you rose from his bed, excusing yourself to clean up the mess between your legs. He chuckled to himself as he watched you limp away, like a fawn attempting to walk for the first time. He supposed you were actually pretty cute.

No. It made him start to worry when you were taking a long time in his bathroom, wondering if you'd come back and get dressed to go. It wasn't like it was often he got to just lay there, skin to skin with another person. No one touched him unless it was in battle or in a sexual way, and now he found himself yearning for your body against his again, in a more gentle way this time.

He pretended to look unbothered when you finally came back, pretended that he wasn't elated when you took your place back in his bed, curling up next to him.

You decided to be nice to him just this once. "That was amazing," you complimented, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his mouth that made him freeze. "Thank you."

He felt irritated again, though he couldn't figure out why. "Are you fucking with me?" He glared at you.

"No," you responded calmly. "If I was lying, I wouldn't be on the verge of passing out right now," you giggled tiredly. "I came so hard I'm exhausted."

You yawned, and it gave Grimmjow a funny feeling in his chest. He yanked the blankets up over your naked form. "Get some sleep then." You could tell he found it difficult to be affectionate. It was kind of cute in its own weird way.

You draped an arm over his chest anyway, pushing him out of his comfort zone. "You gonna sleep with me?"

"Doesn't seem like you're giving me much of a choice," he grumbled.

You pressed sleepy kisses into his jaw, smiling against him as you felt his body soften beneath you. "No, I'm not. I like to cuddle after."

"Damn brat." He aggressively wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against him and holding your hip. "You better not snore."

You gasped, a wide, almost painful smile spreading on your lips over the fact that this grumpy arrancar was seriously snuggling you. "Me? A lady? Never!"

"Yeah, yeah. I hear you snore once and I'm tossing you off the side of the bed." You doubted the hand currently caressing your torso would be used to throw you off the bed.

"You're such a gentleman."

"I am, letting you stink up my bed like this." He grinned, adjusting his body so that you could press into him more comfortably.

"Stop being mean to me, I'm soft!" You pouted playfully.

"You? Don't make me laugh." He murmured against your head.

You smiled contentedly, letting your eyes rest, finally having him where you wanted him. "Okay, I'm going to bed now, so kiss my forehead and tell me goodnight."

"You're a real piece of work," he groaned, as if he wasn't dying for an excuse to press his lips to you.

He did exactly that, bringing his mouth to your temple more gently than you ever could imagine him doing and pulling you impossibly closer before saying, "goodnight, princess."

"Goodnight, my prince."

He would've cringed, had anyone else said it, but hearing you call him your prince, he swore he could feel his heart growing. He didn't know he even had one before you. He was glad you were starting to doze off, glad that you didn't witness his cheeks flushing with admiration.

Grimmjow still couldn't stand you, only now because it was gonna be a real pain in the ass dealing with these feelings he had for you.

I had a really shitty night at work, but I was really proud of that doodle I did just beforehand. So here it is NOT buried under tons of text reblogs lolol

I force myself to sketch everyday, even if it’s a stupid doodle. I could try to draw him with a cape tonight or something, idk. I got into art suuuuper late and I’m only just now really delving into making fan art. ❤️ And don’t worry, with Roshni and my irl bestie whispering in my ears, I’ll eventually probably start drawing smut, too! 😆

࿐ ࿔* :･ﾟFinding Comfort ࿐ ࿔* :･ﾟ

Shinji Hirako x reader

CW: mentions of feeling ignored and excluded, hurt/comfort, established relationship, gender-neutral reader

WC: 840

Notes: So, when I said I wasn't going to post anything this month I guess that was a lie 🙃. I wrote this the other night to get a weight off my chest and figured I'd post it here in the hopes that anyone who needs it can find comfort from this as well! 😌💕

When Shinji saw your shoes discarded in the entryway he didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary. It wasn’t until he noticed all the lights turned off in your shared home, that alarm bells started ringing in his head. It was unlike you to be home with the lights turned off. At the very least, you’d usually have a lamp turned on to provide some form of dim lightning. For there to be no light at all was slightly concerning.

Shinji called out your name in a questioning tone but frowned when the only response he got was silence. Worried that you might be feeling unwell or that something happened to you, Shinji quickly moved through the home and to your bedroom. Along the way, he tried to dispel the anxiety building in his gut, telling himself that maybe you were just taking a nap and hadn’t heard him.

As he neared the bedroom, though, Shinji heard muffled sniffles through the door which had him immediately swinging it open. He found you sitting in the dark, curled up on the bed, dried tears marring your beautiful face. The sight alone had his heart clenching, the thought that you were hurting all by yourself unnerving him. 

“Sweetheart?” He urgently placed a hand on your form as he sat next to you on the bed. “What’s the matter? Are ya hurt anywhere?”

“I’m fine,” you sniffled, “it’s nothing.” You curled in on yourself more, trying to hide away from him. You knew the second you looked at the concern on his face, you wouldn’t be able to hold on anymore and the floodgates would open.

“It’s clearly not nothin’,” Shinji muttered quietly as he watched you cave smaller and smaller around yourself. His heartstrings tugged even more, wanting to comfort you and protect you from everything in the world that could ever make you feel distressed.

“Hey, look at me, doll.” He gently cupped your face so that you were looking at him. Just like you predicted, the deeply etched look of concern on his face had fresh tears springing to your eyes but you still tried your damndest to hold them back. You were so, so exhausted from crying.

“Talk to me. Do I gotta go pull rank on someone?” He joked, trying to pull you back from the faraway look forming on your face as you became lost in your thoughts.

You huffed out a small, warbled laugh. That had him smiling, relieved that he could bring a laugh out of you even if just for a moment. 

“No, it’s fine... I'm ok.”

He gave you a pointed and skeptical look, expression silently saying ‘Really?’ And so you sighed, deciding to just tell him what happened so that you could move past it.

“I just kind of felt left out today when I was hanging out with some friends.” You paused as you recalled what happened earlier in the day, what was said. Your chest tightened at the memory, a few more teardrops rolling down your cheeks. “They were making plans without me and talking as if I wasn’t even there…”

“I’m sorry darlin’. That's really shitty.” Shinji frowned, thumbs wiping away the tears. A fiery anger erupted in his chest at the thought of what you went through and he wanted nothing more than to confront those jerks and tell them to go shove it. He takes a deep breath, though, stemming his anger. First, he had to comfort his dear babydoll.

Shinji placed a delicate kiss on your forehead. “Some ‘friends’ they are. Ya know, those idiots don’t know what they're missin’ out on.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you whisper dejectedly, the negative thoughts in your mind clouding over his consoling words.

He gave you an offended look. “No, I’m sayin’ it ‘cuz it’s true!”

You still didn’t look all that convinced, so he continued. “Yer an amazin’ person! Kind, funny, smart, full of life and light. What’s there not to like about ya? And not to mention, yer great in bed too. Though, that last one no one else should know about. That’s only fer me to know.” He grinned, and you couldn’t help but smile at his silly expression.

“Seriously, If they don’t wanna take the time to get to know ya better, then it’s their loss! I say yer better off without ‘em. And besides,” he continued, patting your head, “you’ve got other people who care about ya and wanna be with ya. Me included, obviously.”

Shinji pulled you to his chest, enveloping you in a warm and soothing hug. Though the sting from the earlier encounter was still there slightly, you felt a sense of reassurance and relief wash over you from the solace he provided as he held you tight.

“Thank you.” You pressed into him, appreciating his warmth and comfort. He kissed the side of your head in acknowledgment, squeezing tighter.

“You sure ya don’t want me to go pull rank on ‘em?”

You chuckled, “I’m sure.”

Thank you for 100 followers!!! Let’s make this a grand event and reawaken the Bleach fandom 🥰🩷

king kuna

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.”

𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢, 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐨 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐬 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢’𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫…

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Shuhei Hisagi, Hirako Shinji, Kurosaki Ichigo

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Hello !! I hope you’re having a wonderful day (⌒‿⌒) may I request headcanons of Shuhei, Yumichika, and Shinji with an s/o that’s Kenpachi’s daughter? Maybe with some gap moe where she has a similar aggressive fighting style as Kenpachi then is very sweet and happy-go-lucky (like Yachiru!!)

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I just love how all the Captains are getting a chance to have a daughter who practically scares all the other subordinates >.< Since I don’t write for Yumichika, I swapped him with Ichigo (cuz it’s also fun giving him stress with anything Kenpachi) Thanks for thr request!!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Shuhei Hisagi

˚₊‧꒰ა Hisagi had absolutely not a clue you were Zaraki’s daughter the first time he met you, he just knew there was something crazy, dangerous and magnetic about you, and he really shouldn’t be drawn to but absolutely was.

˚₊‧꒰ა You caught him staring when you passed him in the Seireitei gardens and shot him a grin that showed slightly too sharp teeth and zero shame, sending his brain somewhere north of useless.

˚₊‧꒰ა When he finally learned who your father was, it was from Ikkaku, who very kindly slapped the back of Hisagi’s head and muttered, “Oi, you’re sniffin’ round Zaraki’s kid, mate. Best have a bloody will ready.”

˚₊‧꒰ა That was the moment he immediately considered getting his affairs in order but realised he’d rather die than give up a chance to be near you.

˚₊‧꒰ა The first date was a mess, and he still got dragged into it; you insisted on sparring for fun, and the two of you ended up in a crumbling training yard, bruised and laughing

˚₊‧꒰ა “You know,” you called, wiping some dirt from your cheek with the back of your hand, “if you’re gonna fall for me, you better keep up.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He found it absolutely thrilling that you thought fighting was flirting and somehow adapted faster than anyone expected, even you

˚₊‧꒰ა You stole his sake once during a late night drinking session at his division and refused to give it back unless he could wrestle it off you; you won, and he still claims he let you.

˚₊‧꒰ა Other times, he would wake up to find you sprawled across his bed, limbs thrown wide like you owned it, his uniform shirt hanging off one shoulder because you tore it sometime during the night.

˚₊‧꒰ა You teased him mercilessly about his tattoo, asking if you could give him a few more “battle marks” of your own and then cackled when he flushed when you dragged your fingers halfway down his chest to show where you want to plant them.

˚₊‧꒰ა Hisagi got on surprisingly well with your father, mostly because he treated Zaraki with open respect and absolutely no grovelling fear, though he was definitely one wrong word away from getting flattened most days.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Tch. If ya hurt her, kid,” Zaraki grunted once, massive hand clapping Hisagi’s shoulder so hard he nearly face-planted, “I’ll pull yer guts out through yer nostrils.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You found it hilarious and made a point of hanging off Hisagi’s shoulders, legs wrapped round his waist, kissing him stupid in public, daring anyone to comment.

˚₊‧꒰ა He loved it when you crashed his office, flopping onto his paperwork with a loud “I’m bored. I want to be entertained,” and he pretended to be exasperated but dropped everything within minutes to curl up beside you which eventually leads to a wrestling match and a power nap.

˚₊‧꒰ა There were times he secretly enjoyed being dragged into ridiculous Zaraki family outings, like ‘friendly’ brawls, Hollow hunting, and one memorably awful camping trip where you tried (and failed) to cook a rabbit over open flame.

˚₊‧꒰ა “What are you going to do without me,” he laughed, poking your burnt rabbit corpse with a stick while you scowled.

˚₊‧꒰ა If he ever got a bad nightmare, you were both the type to pretend it didn’t happen, tangled together under thin sheets, breath evening out in the small hours without a word.

˚₊‧꒰ა You taught him how to sharpen his instincts beyond textbook fighting, how to smell blood on the wind, how to listen for the wrong kind of silence, and he taught you how to steady your rage before it burnt you alive.

˚₊‧꒰ა He wouldn’t say a word about this, but he has a secret tattoo of your name inked small and low on his hipbone where nobody would ever see unless you peeled him out of his uniform yourself.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Only person I ever wanted to be reckless for,” he muttered once against your collarbone after a near-death mission, voice rough with something he refused to call love but was anyway.

Hirako Shinji

˚₊‧꒰ა Shinji spotted you once tearing through a group of low-ranked thugs in the Rukongai with a huge grin on your face and thought, Well, there goes my bloody sanity.

˚₊‧꒰ა You met properly when you were assigned as a temporary reinforcement to the Visoreds for a Hollow hunt, and Shinji spent the entire briefing pointedly not staring at the way your hips moved each time you walked, because, “My eyed were glued to your zanpakuto.”

˚₊‧꒰ა After you almost sliced a Hollow clean in half while flipping over its back like it was a plaything, Shinji sidled up next to you, hands in his pockets, lazy grin in place, and said, “Oi, yer dad teach ya that, or are you just naturally mental?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Shinji knew you were Zaraki’s kiddo before you even opened your mouth; it was in the swagger, the craze in your eyes, the grin that promised chaos.

˚₊‧꒰ა First date was not so much a date as it was Shinji daring you to join him for sake and terrible karaoke in some dive bar on the far side of the Seireitei. You had stole the microphone halfway through and belted out a foul-mouthed drinking song so gloriously badly that Shinji damn near proposed on the spot.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Yer a bloody nightmare,” he told you later, arm slung round your shoulders, dragging you close enough to smell the cheap alcohol on his breath, “and I’m already in too deep.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You sparred constantly, usually ending with you pinning him or he pinning you, both of you panting and laughing and occasionally snogging against the ground until someone threw a sandal at your heads.

˚₊‧꒰ა Zaraki didn’t hate Shinji, which was about the highest praise Shinji could’ve asked for, even though your father muttered things like, “At least the tosser’s got some teeth,”

˚₊‧꒰ა “If he so much as makes ya cry, girl,” Zaraki warned once, cracking his knuckles loudly enough to make the table rattle, “I’ll break every bleedin’ rib in his body.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You delighted in testing Shinji’s patience, picking fights with him in the middle of Division meetings, stealing his captain’s haori and wearing it as a dress, sneaking sake into his paperwork stacks.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Oi, love,” he drawled once when he caught you sneaking through his window at midnight, “you come here to kill me or kiss me?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Shinji was a sucker for your wild, reckless laughter, the way you treated every battle like a bloody dance floor, the way you made the world feel sharp and electric again.

˚₊‧꒰ა He let you crash at his place whenever you wanted, sprawling across his bed like a queen, yelling at him to bring snacks and sake as if you owned the place, which, honestly, you kind of did.

˚₊‧꒰ა You once dyed his hair pink as a prank while he was asleep; he wore it for three days just to piss off everyone at the Captain’s meetings and you laughed so hard you cried.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Don’t threaten me with a good time, love,” he grinned when you teased him about being whipped, dragging you into his lap with no effort at all.

˚₊‧꒰ა You’d drag him to family dinners with Zaraki and Yachiru where someone usually bled before dessert; and he never complained once, even when he lost three teeth once from a ‘friendly’ brawl.

˚₊‧꒰ა You once dared Shinji to fight you with one hand tied behind his back; he won, but only because he cheated and used his mouth to pin your wrist to the floor.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’re bloody trouble,” he whispered into your hair once, after dragging you laughing into bed after a fight, “and I’m the idiot who loves it.”

Kurosaki Ichigo

˚₊‧꒰ა When this little strawberry found out who your dad was after you’d already knocked him flat during a training match, it made the whole situation even worse, because now he had bruises and the mental image of Zaraki’s murderous glare burning holes in his back.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Wait! Zaraki’s your dad?! Seriously?! That’s...that’s not even fair,” Ichigo groaned, rubbing his ribs while you leaned smugly on your sword.

˚₊‧꒰ა You just grinned and replied, “If you’re gonna date me, you’d better stop whining and fight harder, Kurosaki.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Ichigo thought dating you was going to be exhausting, and he was completely right, but he also never had more fun in his life.

˚₊‧꒰ა You dragged him headfirst into chaos on the regular—training in the middle of the night, brawls in underground rings, Hollow bait missions you definitely weren’t authorised to take part in.

˚₊‧꒰ა He’d show up late home with a busted lip and grass in his hair, muttering, “Don’t ask,” while you stood behind him looking smug and completely unbothered.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Your old man hates me,” he muttered after the third time Zaraki cracked his knuckles at him in the hallway; you just shrugged and said, “He hates everyone.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He (once) tried to kiss you in the hallway before a mission. Zaraki walked past, snorted like a bull, and Ichigo very calmly walked into a wall.

˚₊‧꒰ა You thought it was adorable how flustered he got around your family, especially since he could slice through a Menos like butter but couldn’t make eye contact with your dad for more than three seconds.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You alright there, Kurosaki?” you asked sweetly, resting your chin on his shoulder during dinner while Zaraki loomed five feet away, ready to challenge him to a duel.

˚₊‧꒰ა You once kicked him through a wall during a spar and offered him a hand while laughing, “You done being a wimp yet?” and he grabbed it, grumbling, “Hell no.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He never got used to how casual you were about injuries, like returning from missions covered in blood and saying, “It’s not mine” while stealing his rice.

˚₊‧꒰ა At least he was always there to patch up your wounds even when you insisted you were fine, muttering, “Stop moving, idiot, or I’m tying you down,” and you grinned because you knew he meant it.

˚₊‧꒰ა He once snuck into your room to surprise you and ended up on the business end of your zanpakuto because you were half-asleep and reacted on instinct.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Next time,” you mumbled, sheathing the blade, “knock first or I’ll carve your name into my wall with your blood.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Like typical guys, he secretly liked when you wore his black undershirt post-battle, even though it was way too long on you and covered in dust, because it meant you were still breathing.

˚₊‧꒰ა He respected the hell out of your strength but never tried to compete with it—he wasn’t interested in being stronger than you, only in being strong with you.

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite being constantly stressed around your dad, Ichigo somehow earned Zaraki’s grudging approval by throwing himself in front of you during a mission once and almost getting crushed for it.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Tch,” Zaraki said after dragging him out of the dirt, “Ya might be an idiot, but you’re a tough one. Don’t died cuz we still gotta fight later.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You always made Ichigo feel like the world was on fire, but in a way that made him want to run toward the flames instead of away from them.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @stygianoir @spellboundsuguru @cactimorada @cookielovesbook-akie @kennys-partner @sovl-society @villainsrtasty @foxycrafterofgreenwood @carnationdoe @darthwhorecrux

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the nerd i reblogged this from has a quality blog & i recommend you all follow them.

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

The first time….

The faint gasp he unconsciously lets out when he sees you naked for the first time.

The throaty grunt he lets loose when he enters your pussy for the first time.

The involuntary groan that escapes his lips when you climax and clamp down his length for the first time.

The uncontrollable string of moans and chants that spill out with his cum, coating your walls with his warm thick seed for the first time.

The audible breaths against your ears, his warm cheeks pressed against yours as he recovers from his first release inside you.