What Would The Bleach Men Think If You Told Them You Wanted A Collar On?

Sweet talk & Switchblades (Delinquent!Grimmjow x Reader)

Also available on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/65163163

The whole thing started with an argument over a bike.

You were running a bit late. That was nothing new. You didn't know how you always managed to be racing the clock when you tried to set several alarms to wake up on time, but perhaps your neighbours and their incessant arguing had well and truly fucked up your Circadian rhythm. You’d tried to ask them nicely to keep it down, but they always apologised and then forgot their promises to lower the volume a couple of weeks later. You'd woken from a fractious sleep like the dead hauled from a grave, only for your body to clumsily lurch into gear when you realised the time.

Either way, you were in no mood for some wannabe delinquent's shit, especially not when they looked like they were barely out of high school.

You were hurrying to get to the station, your bag banging painfully against your hip as you moved, trying not to outright run and get out of breath but moving fast enough to make an actual difference, and your armpits were already starting to dampen from the exertion. You could see the steps leading down to the platform up ahead, like some kind of beacon.

There was a convenience store right beside the station entrance, which normally was a godsend when you forgot to make breakfast and wanting to grab a quick snack to keep you going on the ride to work, or a place you could walk to in the evenings on balmy evenings to pick something up and stretch your legs before winding down for the night. You recognised its glowing sign very well, like a checkpoint that indicated you were nearly home after a long day. Under normal circumstances, its presence was a stable, comforting one. But that was not the case today.

Your path was impeded by a bunch of bikes. Admittedly you didn't know shit about bikes, so you couldn't tell if they were just large scooters or small motorbikes or something inbetween, but either way they were blocking your path to the steps. You nearly tripped over your own toes as you suddenly lurched to a halt to avoid them, given how fast you’d been walking, hissing between your teeth as you knocked lightly into one of the bikes. A group of guys who looked like their ages ranged from late teens to perhaps their thirties, judging by the tall skinny guy, had the nerve to look over at you like you’d disturbed them.

"Oi, watch it, girlie." said a blonde guy who might have been attractive if it wasn't for the sneer on his face, like he was smelling something bad.

You bristled instinctively at his tone. Girlie?

"Excuse me?" you bit out, doing your best to keep your voice, an even volume and not let it go all high and priggish.

"Yeah, watch it!" a shorter guy with a mouth that looked like it's been punched several times chime in, his teeth chipped as he speaks. "You coulda scratched the paint!"

"By lightly bumping it with my bag? Where'd you get it, random parts in a junkyard?" you snark in response, unimpressed by the posturing. Real tough guys these were, five of them all staring down one woman who just wanted to get down the goddamn stairs. Not to mention, what were they doing loitering on some random street? Didn’t they have another gang to go punch or whatever it was they did to amuse themselves?

The boy's face was painted with shock at your retort for a split second and it took him a moment to recover, like he was taking a second to process what you said, like a slow computer buffering.

"You got a mouth on you, huh?" a heavyset guy with a red mohawk commented, more a factual statement than an accusation, but it didn't put you any more at ease. The way they were looking at you wasn't dissimilar to a pack of dogs who have heard an animal moving through the brush and are debating if it’s worth the chase.

They still hadn’t moved and you desperately wanted to check the time on your phone, but you didn’t want to risk taking it out and tempting them to snatch it off you – you wouldn’t have been able to stop all of them if they did, and with their bikes they could easily get away before you had time to react. Instead you drew in some air, trying to keep your cool despite the mounting irritation.

“I just want to get past.” You said, but they just chuckle mockingly at you.

“Yeah, sorry, but we’re waiting. You’re gonna have to take the long way.” Drawled the blonde guy, leaning back against his bike, hair spilling down his back over his jacket.

Your patience (what little you had left of it) was reaching its limit – you shouldn’t have to ask them to move more than once. Or at all.

"Move your goddamn bikes."

All of them suddenly stopped smirking. If this were a movie, it would be the scene where tumbleweed crossed the barren landscape, just before the shootout.

Got to stop watching shows so late at night. You thought to yourself, irrationally.

The shortest guy stepped closer.

"What did you say?" he said, and you're starting to understand why his teeth look like that - you're starting to want to punch him in the mouth as well. What was so difficult for them to understand, exactly? And because you doubt another girl would be as upfront as you, should one happen to be the next poor person who simply needed to get from A to B in a timely manner, you couldn't back down now. You would not.

"You heard." you replied, folding your arms, anger pulsing through you like a second heartbeat.

The stunned looks on their faces would have been pretty amusing if you weren't so keenly aware of the five of them against one of you, the bikes in your way like a shiver of steel sharks, but there was nowhere else for you to get onto the platform, not unless you crossed the street and walked even further and you had a feeling that if you tried that now, they'd chase you. Probably yelling insults and throwing things. Or worse. The best way around this is through.

The runtier guy glanced over his shoulder for a second, like he's asking the others silent permission or something. He's trying to look menacing but the scowl on his face made him look more petulant than anything else.

"You little-"

"What's this?"

A deep voice suddenly cut through the tension, and immediately, it's like they'd all forgotten about you. Every head turned towards the source of the noise and, unwittingly, you raised your eyes.

A tall figure strode towards the commotion, having just emerged from the convenience store. Your eyes were drawn to him inexorably, something about him immediately demanding your attention. He wore jeans and a black leather jacket with silver studs on the shoulders, which caught the light. Electric blue hair was swept back off a handsome, chiselled face, a couple of strands hanging between his eyes. He was smirking and something about the curve of his mouth, the half-lidded slant to his eyes, sent a spark licking down the length of your spine. There's something about the way he moved that told you he knew how to fight, there's a fluid, feral grace to his movements.

"I told you dumbasses to wait out here and you can't even do that right?"

He drew closer to you and you could smell him, a spicy kind of cologne mixed with cigarette smoke and styling wax. He wasted zero time in getting all up into your personal space and your feet gave ground to his approach on reflex. He grinned, looming over you, the collar of his shirt gaping open enough to reveal hard, firm pectoral muscles and a silver dog tag glinting between them. Your legs hit the bushes bordering the path and the leaves tickled your skin.

"I just asked them to move out of the way." you said, proud of yourself for keeping your voice from shaking, even if it sounds breathy to your ears.

"She mouthed off at us, Grimmjow!" piped the runt behind him, like a kid tattling to his older brother.

Grimmjow - what a strange name, yet it suits him somehow, adding an extra flair to his already striking appearance - regarded you with amusement and slight condescension.

"Did she."

He doesn't look angry, there's a glint in his eyes as if he's intrigued, and you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away, his eyes sucking you in and holding you there, rendering your body immobile, refusing to obey your mind's commands. He moved in closer, taking obvious pleasure in crowding you and cutting off any potential escape route.

“You’re lucky I don’t have time for you right now, sweetheart.” He said in a lazy drawl, leaning in and resting a hand on your shoulder, where you noticed that several thick silver rings adorned his fingers. “Got places to be. But before I go, what’s your name?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest – would he seriously let you just walk off after giving his friends attitude? He definitely looked the part of a delinquent, maybe even a gangster, far more than any of his friends did. And he seemed to be the leader and you had no doubt if you were a man the situation wouldn’t be playing out this way, but you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Why do you want to know my name?” you asked, and he gave a soft, dangerous chuckle.

“Playing hard to get, huh?” he asked, quietly enough that only you could hear him. His eyes bored into yours and his hand dipped lower, settling on your waist and squeezing. The strength in his fingers alone drove a gasp from your throat. “Heh. Have it your own way.”

An indignant splutter left your mouth as his hand brushes over the swell of your ass as he straightened up and a blush burned your face – did he just-?! Your mouth fell open to say something, which was probably not wise, but nothing happened, just a faint croaking noise emerging from your throat. It happened so quickly you’re already doubting it it did at all.

“We’re leaving.” Grimmjow commanded the men behind him casually, like he was giving out his drink order. “Move it.”

“But-“ the runt protested.

He glared at the smallest guy, who visibly shrank back, chin dipping to his chest.

“Yeah? Got something to say, D-Roy?”

D-Roy? That had to be a nickname, surely. Unless the idiot just happened to have particularly cruel parents. D-Roy quickly shook his head, shooting a glance at you that was both fearful and resentful, and one by one the gathered group get on their bikes and just like that, your path was cleared. You half expected to hear a videogame jingle to indicate you could proceed.

You were determined not to look back as you practically ran for the stairs, but just as your head was about to disappear down past the brick wall either side of the steps, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking out of the corner of your eye.

Grimmjow was watching you, a smirk on his face that immediately made you uneasy, like he knew something you didn’t and was savouring in your woeful ignorance. With a sharp inhale, you faced forward and hurried down the steps – perhaps if you were lucky, you could still get your train.

Grimmjow strode towards his bike, which had been concealed from your vision by the others. His was larger, sleeker and cooler-looking than those of his gang and he straddled it with the expertise of a cowboy getting atop his horse, revving the engine.

“You’re really going to let her off the hook that easy?” Shawlong queried, in a dry voice, drawing his bike up beside Grimmjow’s, but still staying slightly behind out of silent respect. Grimmjow’s lip quirked, revealing a flash of teeth.

“Who said anything about letting her off the hook?” he responded with a shrug of his wide shoulders. “When I want to find her, I know where to look.”

“How do you know that?” Ilforte asked, sounding surprised. “You’ve met her before?”

“Nah,” Grimmjow answered, procuring something from his sleeve and holding it between two fingers, the grin on his face widening.

Between index and middle finger sat what looked like a building pass, complete with a lanyard strap dangling down, the corporate logo at complete odds when contrasted against the worn leather of his jacket sleeve. You hadn’t even noticed him lift it from your pocket, too busy getting flustered over him touching you. You’d pay for your lack of observational skills later.

“She’ll be wanting this back.” Grimmjow said, a feral spark lighting the blue of his eyes.

Let the hunt begin.

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."

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD. Once you're given this award, you're supposed to paste it in the ask of eight people who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing happens but it's sweet to know so. I think you deserve this award on all counts💚

you're such a sweetie 😭😭😭 <3 NO U

HEADCANNON!!!!!!! #1 >:)

I major headcannon mayuri to have some longgg ass eyelashes

hurr battering in front of a computer screen on my tv while I bark with unquenchable yearning 💔 just not fair is it.

i did a quick sketch (pls be kind im still learning and idk why I gave him a soft chin cuz we all know that man is CLEAN CUT MM)

can you tell i used the shower pic as my reference 🫣

-🍮

That being walked in on has inspired me!

What if reader walks in on them but pulls up a chair and just watches, refusing to help or join in? I want to know which ones beg prettily, which ones out right stop in retaliation, which ones continue on as if reader isn't even there, and whatever other reactions that you can think of for these fine, fine men

Thanks, as always! ❤️

They couldn’t take it—your unwavering gaze, the way you just sat there, arms crossed, lips curved in amusement, refusing to give them relief. Their pride crumbled fast, heavy pants turning to breathless pleas, voices thick with desperation. Hands never slowed, but their eyes stayed locked onto you, silently (or loudly) begging. Some whispered your name like a prayer, others outright whimpered, promising anything if you’d just touch them.

— Jushiro, Kira, Hisagi, Bazz-B

The moment they registered your refusal, their hand stilled, their expression darkening with frustration. You wanted to tease them? Fine. They weren’t going to give you the satisfaction of watching them fall apart. Some scoffed, others outright scowled, shifting their legs or turning away as if to say, “You don’t get to enjoy this if you’re not joining in.”

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

If you weren’t going to help, then they didn’t need you. They kept going at their own pace, shameless and unaffected, not giving you the reaction you were likely hoping for. They didn’t beg, didn’t stop—just carried on, some even closing their eyes as if you were nothing but background noise. If they acknowledged you at all, it was with a smug smirk or a raised eyebrow, daring you to cave first.

— Aizen, Ichigo, Renji, Kenpachi, Jugram

Instead of frustration or desperation, they turned it around on you. If you wanted to watch, then they’d put on a show—drawn-out strokes, teasing moans, knowing looks that made it clear they were trying to make you crack first. Some even spoke to you, throwing out taunts between gritted teeth, asking if you were really going to sit there unmoved while they fell apart in front of you.

— Shunsui, Shinji, Kisuke, Grimmjow, Askin, Starrk, Gin

Aizen a brat yeah

why was every interaction between aizen and shunsui in tybw so sexually charged? like guys now is NOT the time

@shinjisimp can't remember a time i wasn't gooning ☝️😔

i wonder what i thought about before my thoughts were vastly consumed by having sex with fictional characters and falling in love with fictional characters

hi ♡

can I aske about the bleach men reacting to their s/o getting into a fight for them and winning. probably some idiot was badmouthing the bleach men and their s/o 'handled' everything.

thanks in advance ♡

A/N: Oh gosh, this would be a sight to behold. Most of them would be cheering you on lol.

Visibly entertained and turned on by your boldness. Highly smug as they watched you win. They’d tease you playfully afterward, maybe telling you things like, “Didn’t know you were that feisty” or “You looked hot doing that.” They're proud, definitely turned on, and probably already planning a reward for you later.

— Shunsui, Grimmjow, Askin, Kisuke, Bazz-B, Shinji, Kenpachi, Renji

They wouldn’t make a huge show of it, but you’d see the pride in their eyes. A small smile, maybe a nod, and later they’d let you know how much they appreciated you standing up for them—even if they usually handle things themselves.

— Starrk, Ichigo, Kira, Hisagi

They’d be proud you won, but lowkey irritated that you had to step in at all. Expect a lecture about not risking yourself—even if you clearly handled it. Their protectiveness flares up when it comes to you, even if they secretly enjoyed watching you fight.

— Toshiro, Uryu, Byakuya, Ryuken, Jushiro

They’d be delighted in their own way, smirking like the bastard just got what they deserved. They’d see it as you defending what’s theirs—or rather, who is theirs. Expect a quiet intensity, maybe a hand on your back or a whisper in your ear, telling you how well you did—and how they’ll be showing you their appreciation later.

— Yhwach, Jugram, Aizen, Ulquiorra, Gin

✦–professional slacker 🗣️ˎˊ˗ ——–——––--

平子 真子 - Shinji Hirako x reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: sfw // established relationship // Shinji hirako is on break day, so he can do whatever he wants with his princess.

------------- Break day for Captain Hirako means YOU aren't getting any moment of peace.

He’s lounging on the couch with you in his lap—legs spread, arms loose around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he hums some lazy jazz tune. You tried to get up to do literally anything, but nope. Not happening. Shinji has declared this a “no escape from boyfriend duty” kind of day.

“Where you goin’, huh?” he murmurs into your neck, pressing a kiss there and tugging you closer. “Break day means I finally get to harass my princess properly.”

“You mean smother,” you mumble, cheeks warm as his hands slide a little lower under your shirt.

“Tomato, tomahtoo,” he mutters, biting gently your shoulder. “You’re mine today, Name. That’s the rule.”

He ends up carrying you around the house like it’s a royal procession—on his back, in his arms, over the shoulder if you protests too much. He feeds you snacks with ridiculous “Say aaah~” antics, let you wear his big ah shirts, and insists you sit on his lap at all times—kitchen chairs, couch, bed, floor, doesn’t matter.

“You’re warm,” he tells you as an excuse, burying his face in your neck again. “Plus, your thighs are my emotional support pillows.”

if you try to tease him, maybe you'll get a pout —maybe—but it doesn’t last long when his hands are wrapped around you and he's whispering, “My pretty princess... always mine on days like this,”

random extra with ass groping 💔💔----

He’s got that shameless grin on his face - eyes half-lidded, voice low and full of mischief.

One hand stays tucked under his cheek like he’s all innocent, while the other? Firmly cupped over your ass, fingers splayed like it belongs there. Every now and then he gives it a lazy squeeze, like he's checking it’s still his. Spoiler: it is.

“Mmh… y’know,” he mumbles against your belly, lips brushing your skin, “for a princess, you’ve got one hell of a royal ass.”

You roll your eyes, though your breath catches a bit. “Shinji—”

“What?” he grins, lifting his head to look up at you with zero shame. “I’m just appreciating my monarchy.”

He props himself up, still lazily grabbing you, and presses a kiss just above your waistband. “C’mon, princess... after all the pampering, it’s only fair I give my thanks properly.”

“You’re incorrigible,” you laugh, swatting at him—but he only chuckles, letting his hand wander again.

“And yet... you still let me sleep in your lap like a spoiled mutt.”

“Because you are.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You say that like I won’t bite.”

You give him a look.

He smirks wider.

Yeah. You're cooked.

ART BY @ajuji_aju ON TWITE / X THZNK YOU IF YOU RED THIS FAR FAR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shinji sighed. "Brat." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tags: @tomitsulikeslemons @eleftheria93