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amostimprobabledream · 4 days ago

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The Gift (Grimmjow x Reader) - Part Three

Unfortunately I don't have a new Grimmjow fic to drop for his birthday this year because I've been so busy, BUT here's the third part of The Gift that I never got around to posting on here! Also available on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/10254263/chapters/22728554

Grimmjow gave a lopsided grin as he observed the sight before him. Pinned down by his hand locked around your wrists, you lay panting beneath him. Your shirt, courtesy of him, was torn up the middle, revealing your rising and falling breasts, the tender skin of your stomach. He made an approving purr deep in his throat as his eyes travelled downwards, only a pair of thin black underwear as the last barrier covering you. You fidgeted beneath his burning gaze, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. Your eyes snapped to his when you heard a dark chuckle.

"What's so funny?" you growled, trying to sit up, but his grip was like iron and he pinned you with insulting ease on his part, so you settled for glaring at him.

"You are," was his blunt reply, as he leant down and dragged his tongue across one of your breasts, making sure to flick over the most sensitive part, making you gasp. "You look so..."

Azure eyes drank in the sight of your flushed face, his breath fanning over your skin.

"...fuckable."

Your eyes snapped open as Grimmjow leered at you before moving down between your legs. A loud squeak flew from your mouth before you could stop it as Grimmjow nipped the sensitive skin of your inner thigh - a place that wasn't generally touched a whole lot, let alone bitten. He flashed you a dark smirk as he took down your underwear...

with his teeth.

Your heart seemed to jolt in your chest as your last remaining barrier was unceremoniously shredded. You were utterly exposed to him now...you could only hope he liked what he saw. His stare seemed to burn into you like a brand and he reached out, dragging a finger up your inner thigh, sending tiny jolts of excitement through you as his hand reached your slick entrance. You twitched at the touch, body taut with anticipation. Grimmjow snorted in amusement, hooking his thumb in the waistband of his hakama and tugging them down, finally getting as naked as you were. You couldn't help but gawk at the size of him - it was a good thing he'd made sure you were thoroughly wet, because you would certainly need it. No wonder he always swaggered everywhere he went.

Grimmjow seemed pleased by your silent gazing, however.

"Like what you see, girl?" he all but purred.

Quickly you looked away; embarrassed to be caught staring so blatantly, even though he’d been looking at your naked self utterly shamelessly. It felt weird to be ogling someone so vicious, so easily capable of ripping you apart if he so chose.

"Sorry, I just..."

Suddenly his face was inches from yours, sharp fangs only centimeters from your throat. Your fingers tightened on the sheets as you tried not to make any sudden movements.

"Wait 'til you feel me fuck you with it."

That was all the warning he gave before you felt the blunt head of his cock nudge against your entrance before Grimmjow surged his hips forwards, sliding all the way in, making sure that you felt every damn inch of him, bit by bit. You let out a gasp as he filled you, thick and hot and your hips jerked reflexively, trying your best to accommodate. It hurt a little bit but when he began to move it, tingling shocks surged within you from head to toe. He grabbed your thighs in his hands, squeezing and dragging you to an even deeper position, stroking you hard from the inside, body so large and heavy over your own. You gasped and your hands flew to his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin, raking thin lines down his shoulder blades. He actually snarled and usually that would have sent you running in terror, but right now it was the hottest thing you'd ever heard.

"Ah, Grimmj- fuck!" you spluttered out, panting so hard you could barely talk - the pressure so hot and pulsing you were nearly lightheaded with it. “Oh god…”

Grimmjow leant down and bit and sucked along your collarbone, the strands of blue hair brushing your cheek.

“That’s it, kitten,” he rumbled, his own speech strained, “Come for me.”

Now there was an order you could get behind. Not that you had much choice in following it when he kept up his inexorable pace, driving choked gasps out of you with slow, deep, grinding thrusts. Stars popped in your field of vision as pleasure overwhelmed you, your body trembling and tingles buzzing up and down your nerve endings, your back arching and fingers curling. Grimmjow fucked like he fought- hard, fast and utterly without mercy. Your mouth opened in a thin moan as your muscles clenched, your stomach twisting as a shiver shot from your crown all the way down your back, releasing bolts of pleasure that rendered you speechless.

"AH...!"

“Fuck!” Grimmjow swore as he felt your walls tighten around him, and it didn’t take him too long to join you, his cock twitching inside you still as he groaned and finally, finally got the release he’d been craving since he saw you covered in that arrancar’s blood and fury in your eyes.

Sated, Grimmjow pulled out of you with a grunt, the heat of his body leaving you as he straightened up, making you frown slightly – without him you felt awfully…exposed. Not to mention chilly. You watched him sleepily from beneath your hair, admiring the way the sliver of moon highlighted the muscles in his chest. He wasn’t looking at you – would he tell you to leave?

You were surprised by how much the thought of that stung, but the sound of tearing cloth made you jump. Grimmjow tossed a scrap of white fabric at you, and you caught it and swung your legs over the side of the bed, quickly cleaning yourself up. A little primitive, but it’d do for now. Still, this small action seemed to sap you of the little energy you had and when you tried to stand up, you immediately had to sit back down, legs as wobbly as a calf’s.

The bed creaked as Grimmjow lay down, the sheets bunching around his midriff. You had no time to further ponder on his unusual silence – was he annoyed? Disappointed? – when his arm suddenly reached out and snagged you around the waist, dragging you back down and pulling you close until your back met hard muscle. He buried his nose in your hair and inhaled deeply, the faintest whisperings of a growl in his throat.

“Grimmjow?” you asked, unable to keep the sleepiness out of your voice.

“Go to sleep, woman.” he demanded, though the brusqueness of his words was mitigated by his hands sliding up your bare arms to grab your breasts. You twitched as his calloused fingers absently kneaded the soft, sensitive flesh.

“I…okay,” you mumbled drowsily in reply – you really were exhausted and even his casual fondling wasn’t enough to jolt you from the wave of fatigue that engulfed you. You’d worry later.

He grunted.

“Good girl.”

You yawned and settled against the pillow, eyes sliding shut and feeling the prickle of teeth on your neck before sleep overtook you, granting you a hard-earned moment of rest.

It was difficult to estimate how much time passed. In Hueco Mundo, there was no real way of measuring it, at least not with the traditional rise and fall of the sun. There simply was no sun, only the moon remained, a silver sickle that waxed and waned the opposite of its earth counterpart. This was one of the few ways to track the endless nights, if you were so inclined to do so.

Deep in Las Noches, most of its inhabitants had no particular pattern of sleep and wakefulness – even arrancar slept, though it was often an indulgence granted to the strong. Weaker arrancar tended to rest in groups, to make it harder for bloodthirsty predators (or perhaps simply a bored one). For example, Coyote Starrk, the strongest Espada, spent most of his time sleeping, as an Espada who can overwhelm the majority of those who stray too close really has no need to stay vigilant.

Elsewhere in the spacious palace, Grimmjow was rudely awoken by a sudden surge of reiatsu that could be felt from miles away. It was something akin to a mirror being shattered by a blow of a sledgehammer, a strong shockwave of force followed by the scattered smaller pieces. He jolted upright, automatically on the alert even before his mind had caught up with his instincts, his fingers twitching to grab his sword. It took a moment, but he settled back against the headrest of the bed when he realised the reiatsu was not only far, but at the moment, had yet to stabilise. Still, the fact remained – there were intruders in Hueco Mundo.

Didn’t exactly take a genius to figure out who they might be.

Grimmjow’s eyes narrowed. Kurosaki Ichigo. No doubt he had come running to save that doe-eyed human woman who’d fixed up his arm. He didn’t know who else was there, the energy caused by the abrupt arrival had yet to calm down and telling one from another would have been like trying to grab a particular piece of wood out of the heart of a fire, but he didn’t much care. This time, on his own turf, nobody was going to show up and bail Kurosaki out of the fight and cause another goddamn delay. One way or another, Grimmjow would be the last man standing.

A small noise distracted the Sexta, and his eyes flicked down to you, still out cold and apparently blissfully unaware of any disturbances that might require your attention. You were still naked, but had unfortunately managed to cocoon yourself up in the covers as the night rolled by, so Grimmjow couldn’t see much besides your face, throat and shoulders. A smirk twitched at his mouth as he noted the marks he’d put on your neck and collarbone stood out nicely under the light of the moon, still fresh, still drawing the eye to them in a simple statement: mine.

He’d have to make sure you stayed out of the way, when the battle came. After last night he had no doubts anymore about whether or not he’d keep you around, those little squeaks and gasps you made and how fucking wet you’d become for him were far too entertaining and goddamn hot for him to get tired of anytime soon. Plus, you’d proved you could hold your own well enough, even if you weren’t close to the levels of an Espada such as himself, it didn’t seem like you’d just fucking roll over and die the minute you faced a strong opponent…he had to admit you’d had a point about his old fraccion, though like hell he’d ever say it out loud. But whether you could hold your own or not, he didn’t need a potential distraction when he finally put Kurosaki six feet under once and for all, and thus far you hadn’t proved the greatest at following orders…rather like himself, really.

As if agreeing with his musings, you sighed and turned over and Grimmjow stiffened as you fucking snuggled into his side before falling still again, your expression so relaxed it was almost devoid of expression.

“Tch.” he muttered to your sleeping form, silently debating whether or not to wake you.

Really, it was almost comical – not long again you’d almost been frozen in fear just being in his presence, now look at you. Pressed up against him like it was the most natural thing in the world to be nestled up to one of the deadliest killers in Hueco Mundo. He supposed that’s what he got for making you stay by his side after fucking you senseless, but his instincts demanded you stay close by. Plus, he couldn’t get enough of that infuriatingly addictive scent of you, and he’d slept much longer and better than he had in a long while with you there. Really, there wasn’t much incentive for him to have you sleeping anywhere else.

“My dear Espada,” a voice suddenly rang out, echoing a little as if on a loudspeaker, and your eyes snapped open in alarm, the stillness of the moment utterly shattered, “there is an important matter that needs to be addressed. Please report to the meeting room at once.”

“Whass’happ’nin’? you slurred as you groggily pushed yourself up on your elbows, ears ringing. There were many ways to wake up in Las Noches that no doubt would have been far worse, but Aizen’s smug tones loudly echoing around you was still not what you would have preferred.

“Intruders,” Grimmjow said shortly, yanking on his hakama and tying them with a swift pull. “Probably some pissed-off shinigami Aizen fucked over before he came here.”

You blinked, reaching up and rubbing your eyes as you watched Grimmjow stalk across the room, snatching up his jacket and roughly tugging it on. Well, that was news…not the intruders, which you could now feel more clearly as your mind reached out, automatically aware of a reiatsu that was distinctly un-hollow, distant and as smothered by the powerful sources nearby as it was. But the prospect of Aizen having disgruntled ex-colleagues chasing him had honestly never occurred to you. You weren’t foolish enough to actually buy Aizen’s claims of being or aiming to be a god, but if a man burned his bridges and managed to temporarily conquer an entirely different world from the one he knew, you sort of assumed that was the type of person you left alone. It was a disturbing notion that there were people out there willing to give chase. How powerful were the ones who wanted his head?

But then…Aizen had taken something from them that didn’t belong to him. That girl, the one who could bring things back, to declare reality null and void…she must have friends who would be willing to risk any dimension to bring her back. Such a terrifying power in such vulnerable hands was definitely an interesting combination, and you had no doubt if the position was reversed and she instead had been stolen from Las Noches, then whoever took her would be facing the wrath of Hueco Mundo. And that shinigami, the one you’d heard rumours about ever since Ulquiorra and Yammy’s first journey to the world of the living, he seemed to appear everywhere he had no business being. If he had come for the girl, even with all that power of his own, then what did that say about what she meant to him?

Troubled by both the news of invaders and your own lack of knowledge of the shinigami, you tugged the sheet closer to your body and began to get dressed too, managing to locate your underwear on the floor and slipped them on. You could only be thankful Grimmjow hadn’t torn them into shreds in his enthusiasm the night before.

“It’s Espada-only, idiot girl.” Grimmjow snapped at you and you blushed, pausing midway through pulling on your shirt. “Whatever. I’m going.”

You wouldn’t make the same mistake as last time (though Grimmjow’s “punishment” had been an excuse to get laid and you both knew it), he was a fickle creature at times and even though he’d made you feel incredible, you had no doubt his temper might overrule his libido next time he decided you’d transgressed an order. You followed Grimmjow out of his quarters, not particularly worried anybody might be lurking around, scowling at his back as he headed towards the throne room, where the meeting room lay just beyond.

“Am I meant to stay here until you get back?” you asked, just a hint of insolence in your tone.

Hey, he might have been leagues stronger than you, but you weren’t totally spineless. Plus his dismissal of you made you want to scratch at him through whatever method you could.

He tilted his head back and you caught a glimpse of his sharp canines as he shot you a look, his half-lidded eyes pinning you where you stood and you tensed for a moment. After a second passed, he looked away as if he were suddenly utterly bored of you and you settled again.

“I don’t care what you do. Just keep out of the way.”

And with that, he was gone.

You watched him blur out of sight, biting down on your lip as you tried to reign in your frustration and strung pride. You had no idea what had set off his bad mood – probably being woken as suddenly and forcefully as he had been – but you didn’t appreciate him taking it out on you. You supposed that was your lot, as a fraccion, to be fucked or scolded or whatever your master felt like doing in that particular moment. There were whispers from the labs that Szayel sometimes ate pieces of his fraccion and you knew for a fact that Barragan’s all made a big point of pleasing the cantankerous old man. One legend even said he was the ruler of Las Noches before Aizen had soundly booted him off his throne.

Well, to hell with it. If Grimmjow didn’t care what you did, you’d do as you pleased. All the Espada, Aizen and his henchmen would be busy discussing the intruders (and probably gone a while – goodness knew that man loved to talk), so you could afford to relax for a little while. Whatever Grimmjow had done to Aguja would probably be enough incentive for other strays to leave you alone.

As you glanced down at yourself, though, there was something else you needed to do first. Something important, which you felt much better about doing now that your temperamental superior would be absent long enough for you to finish in peace.

You really needed a bath.

Unbeknownst to Grimmjow or you, however, you were being watched by a sharp pair of eyes, from far away in the white, spacious palace. The figure in question rose from his chair, a disconcerting smile plastered, as always, on his face.

Gin Ichimaru stretched out his back, turning off the screen with flick of his fingers before heading out of the room, sensing Tousen had already set off to report to Aizen’s side. Such a blind follower- quite literally.

Gin’s smile stretched further at his own joke as he glided down the hallway, taking his time with and using the quiet walk to properly mentally file away the footage he’d just seen.

Yes. It looked like everything was falling into place quite nicely, from what he’d just seen. He had expected progress might have its peaks and troughs, of course, but all in all he was feeling rather pleased at the overall result.

Still…it wouldn’t hurt to give things a little nudge, now would it?

Well. It wouldn’t hurt him, anyway.

#Grimmjow x Reader #Bleach x Reader #Bleach #Fanfiction #Reader Insert #Smut #grimmjow jeagerjaques

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amostimprobabledream · 5 days ago

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Drunk Again Off Another Crush (Kensei x Reader)

Reposting here because it's Kensei's birthday today! Also available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49015216

"Congratulations!"

"Yeah, who'd've thought an idiot like you would figure out bankai?"

"Three cheers for lieutenant Hisagi!"

The boisterous cheering filled the bar, a crowd of shinigami clustered together like a flock of crows in their black uniforms. They clinked their glasses together for the umpteenth time that night, Hisagi grinning like a schoolboy.

"Thanks, guys!" he said, his cheeks somewhat redder than usual and his hair all mussed up from Ikkaku and Renji constantly ruffling it, like you would to a puppy.

From your little corner of the bar, you watched all this going on, trying to look happy about it even as your mood sank lower and lower as the noise and celebrating grew louder.

It seemed churlish to feel left out. This was Hisagi's moment, not yours, a celebration of a milestone that not many shinigami ever achieve. You were happy for him; you knew how hard he'd been working to master it and improve his relationship with Kazeshini. When you'd first heard that he'd finally done it, there had been no doubt in your mind that he'd always had what it took.

But although you'd helped to arrange this little celebration, even hanging up some of the decorations with some people from Ninth (you weren't even part of Hisagi's division), and though he'd thanked you when you congratulated him and even given you a quick hug that made you feel all tingly, that was about all that had been said. His friends had arrived, first Kira, Renji and Kira and then later Ikkaku, Yumichika, Iba and Rangiku and he'd been swept up in a little bubble comprised of lieutenants (or near enough, in Ikkaku and Yumichika's cases) and suddenly it was like you didn't exist anymore.

Like you said, it seemed childish to complain that Hisagi wasn't paying attention to you. You understood he'd obviously mostly want to spend time with his closest friends, the ones who had fought alongside him the longest and seen him in action the most. Seeing their happiness at his success truly was an amazing thing.

But…was it unreasonable you felt left out? Envious? Wishing you could even come close to having companions that cared so much about you? You didn't think it was, so you'd turned to the nearest available source of comfort - alcohol. You were several drinks in now and even though you'd tried to look like you were enjoying yourself, you could feel yourself growing more and more distressed and isolated, sitting nursing a drink you'd stopped actually drinking a while ago, which had turned unpleasantly watery now that the ice cubes had melted, and you weren't drunk enough for that not to matter to you. You pushed it aside in faint disgust, but now you didn't even have the excuse of not wanting to spill your drink - now you were just sitting here feeling abandoned and stupid.

As Kira poured Hisagi another drink, you caught something flicker in your peripheral vision and turned your head to see a captain's robe, a stark contrast to all the black uniforms. Shit, when had Muguruma gotten here?

Or wait, he'd been here before, hadn't he? That's right - Mashiro had gotten her hands on a whole bottle of vodka and mistaken it for something much milder. She'd chugged damn near the whole bottle and passed out, and Kensei had been forced to take her to Fourth Division before she did anything else stupid - apparently she had a nasty habit of abruptly thrashing awake and kicking, and Kensei was one of the only people strong enough to keep her steady and not be winded by her famous legs, so he'd vanished for a good chunk of the evening. You couldn't help but wonder if he'd purposefully taken longer than he needed to, so he didn't have to listen to the racket of his subordinate and other lieutenants getting wasted - Kensei was the only person who looked like he wanted to be here less than you did, and the thought was oddly cheering. Misery loves company, and all that.

A vague ghost of a smile flickered at your lips, but it died again like a blinking lightbulb. You admittedly didn't know Kensei all that well, except that Hisagi had been fanboying constantly since the official announcement that the three former captains had agreed to return to their old posts. Time had passed since then, but Hisagi still seemed rather starstruck by Kensei, which was just as well - you'd heard he was a hardass, and if you were being totally honest, he kind of scared you a bit. He was no Zaraki or Kurostsuchi, but something about his size, intimidating aura and I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude was simultaneously scary and a little alluring. You could feel where he was from anywhere in Ninth - his reaitsu was powerful and tinged with an unusual aura, probably thanks to the Hollow that lived inside him. You wondered if Kensei was like that all the time or if he relaxed a little more in his downtime. You were certain you'd never seen him smile.

As if he could sense your gaze on him, Kensei suddenly looked in your direction, a scowl on his face. You quickly ducked your head to avoid his gaze, cheeks burning. It was time to go home, you decided. There was no point sitting here moping because senpai wouldn't notice you anymore. You knew how your moods were only amplified when you drank, and you couldn't see the night improving from here. You were stuck in a tar pit of self-loathing of your own making, and besides which, though you were friendly with one or two of the lieutenants, approaching all of them was kind of intimidating. They understood each other in a way other seated members didn't, working so closely with their captains and yet not quite being on their level. It was a weird limbo to be in, for sure.

Slowly you got up from the table, and immediately nearly fell to your knees as you stood up. Fuck. The booze always hit harder this way, and it took a lot of concentration for you to skirt around the crowd of people towards the exit, weaving back and forth as you walked.

Before you reached that glorious, blinding white rectangle of an exit, a hand suddenly grasped your elbow.

"Where are you going?" a voice demanded.

You turned around and your stomach did some kind of somersault as you found yourself staring dizzily up at Kensei himself. He was scowling down at you, as per usual, but he didn't seem particularly angry per se - he had a very severe resting bitch face, so it seemed.

"Sorry?" you said, which was at least slightly better than "Whu?" which was what you'd been about to say. When you realised, he thought you'd gotten confused on your way to the bar/bathroom, you gave a little shake of your head. "Oh, I'm just - I thought I should go home."

Behind Kensei came another raucous round of cheering and a facial muscle of Kensei's twitched. Clearly the celebrations were grating on his nerves as well - however fond of Hisagi he was, he was not the partying sort of guy. You didn't know Kensei that well, but you knew enough about him to know that every sound of glasses or bottles clinking and sloshing beer on the ground was no doubt grating terribly.

"You're in no fit state to walk home by yourself." Kensei pronounced, but before you could get indignant over this, he sighed. "I'll walk you back to your quarters."

What?!

"Oh, um, that's kind of you, sir, but it's really not-" you demurred - the thought of walking home with Kensei Muguruma at your side was an alarming one.

"It's not up for negotiation." Kensei overrode you bluntly, so much so that you found yourself unable to muster a second stab at refusing. His hand went to your shoulder, and he began steering you towards the door. "Come on. From here on, it's their problem if one of them passes out in a puddle of vomit."

You paused and made a face at the idea.

"Yessir."

You were right - walking with Kensei Muguruma was an intense experience.

Granted, it wasn't like he was shouting at you for drinking or asking you tricky questions. Instead, he was surprisingly quiet, keeping an eye on your ungraceful gait out of the corner of his eye, but otherwise he seemed content to walk through the winding streets of the Seireitei - you'd told him where you lived, and it wasn't so far away that either of you felt the need to whip out Shunpo. Anyway, as Kensei had pointed out, the fresh air would help sober you up some.

Despite that, though, the silence had a tinge of awkwardness to it. Kensei was doing you a favour, but you got the sense he was regretting having offered. Your mind was in a whirl of confusion and alcohol, and you wanted to find something to say to make the journey feel a little less of a daunting voyage. Kensei's reiatsu washed over you like a heavy wind that hints at a thunderstorm - occasionally your arm would brush his haori and the hairs stood up on your skin when it broke out in goosebumps. Kensei didn't seem to notice.

"Why were you sitting by yourself?" he suddenly asked - not looking at you but keeping his eyes straight ahead.

You're taken aback by the question and your answer is vague.

"Oh, well…I'd said my congrats to Hisagi, so I didn't want to get in the way while he was with his friends. His other friends." you said, lamely. "It felt rude to just leave in the middle of his celebration."

"Tch. His friends are spoiling him. Most people don't get a fucking parade thrown for them for achieving a bankai." Kensei muttered, and you shot a surprised glance at him. But though his words were dismissive, his facial expression wasn't disgusted or scornful. Perhaps grumbling was Kensei's idea of speaking fondly of someone.

"Why did you come, then?" you asked, seized with a sudden boldness - perhaps Kensei's candidness was infectious. "You don't seem like a… party type of guy, sir."

"I'm not," Kensei said, waving a hand impatiently. "But I don't begrudge the kid. I worked him hard, and he gave me the results I was hoping for. That deserves recognition."

Huh. You gave a hum of agreement and turned your attention back to the path in front of you. It seemed Kensei was right - you did feel a little more sober. Walking no longer felt like a tricky task that required all conversation, though you didn't regret your decision to leave. You doubted anybody had noticed you were gone.

"So that was the only reason?" Kensei pressed, startling you. "You were just too scared to talk to him around his lieutenant friends? Or were you hoping something was gonna happen?"

You nearly choked on your own saliva at the blunt phrasing. Kensei really didn't pay much attention to social niceties, did he? You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You'd never examined your feelings regarding Hisagi Shuuhei in detail - you knew he liked Rangiku. Kensei knew he liked Rangiku. Everyone and their mums probably knew it. So having feelings for Hisagi had never really crossed your mind, because they were doomed before they'd even had a chance to take root. But explaining all this to Kensei made you uncomfortable, so instead you simply said:

"We're just friends."

"Really." Kensei drawled, and was it your imagination, or was he messing with you? It was hard to tell with his deadpan manner of speaking.

"Yes, really." you said, a little huffily. "And if you don't mind, I'd rather not discuss it further."

"Tch."

You both fell silent again, and you could feel heat creeping up your cheeks. It occurred to you that perhaps Kensei had had some alcohol to loosen his tongue a bit himself, it was just nowhere near as obvious with him since he was so big and beefy - it would probably take enough alcohol to knock over a horse before he started to show ill effects. Though you didn't know who in their right mind would give alcohol to a horse.

You knew where you were now, and you glanced at Kensei.

"I can take it from here if you have somewhere to be." you said, then added belatedly. "Sir."

"I don't." Kensei replied, and you snorted.

"Why do you care about where I'm going or what I'm doing, anyway?" you suddenly asked him, feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something.

"Thought you didn't want to talk about that anymore," Kensei said.

"I'm not, I'm talking about you." you replied, bouncing onto the balls of your feet like that might help you reach Kensei better.

He scoffed and glanced away, and you took a moment to admit his side profile, that firm jaw and the shape of his nose. The impressive fluff of his mohawk and were those piercings you spied in his ear? Hot.

"Just noticed you around, is all." Kensei said, his throat bobbing when he covertly swallowed. "When you come by Ninth."

Oh?

"Oh?" you asked faintly. Kensei had noticed you? But why? There was nothing special about you and he was a captain, and a Vizard, to boot. Everyone was curious about them, even if the topic of the reason the reinstated Captains had been forced to leave was often skirted around. Was it possible you were hallucinating this and were still at that table, passed out drunk?

Now Kensei turned to face you and you weren't able to pull your eyes away from him in time - specifically his bared chest, his firm abdominal muscles and that famous 69 tattoo emblazoned across his skin, the ink still bold and clear even after over a century. He caught you looking, but he didn't seem to mind it.

"Yeah," he said, and his eyes slid to your lips, where a faint shimmer of lipstick still sat from when you'd gotten ready hours earlier.

It was like it was choreographed. A beat of silence ticked between you, an internal debate that lasted both a moment and a lifetime. Then, before you had time to doubt, to convince yourself it was all in your head, Kensei moved, surprisingly quick for a man his size. You had no time to process before a large, gloved hand curved around the back of your neck and you were being pulled in for a hot, demanding kiss that left you breathless. You could faintly taste rum on his lips, and your back met the wall, Kensei's body shielding you from prying eyes.

Your hands moved immediately to comb through his mohawk as he kissed you, and Kensei growled in response, his teeth pinching your bottom lip, enough to make you squeak. His hands roved up and down your body, one of them settling on your waist where you'd donned a brand-new sash for the occasion, his touch hot and firm and making you shiver deliciously. His reiatsu covered you, but this time you relished the staticky feeling of it, the tingling zipping across your skin.

Fuck. you thought.

No words were exchanged during all this. You'd both passed the need for them - your bodies did the talking plenty. When Kensei finally released you, straightening up to his full height again, you were amused to notice he had a smear of sparkly lipgloss collected on his bottom lip. You felt out of breath.

"That was…" you said and broke off with a huff of breathless laughter.

"Yeah," Kensei agreed, running a hand through his mohawk in a surprisingly self-conscious gesture that, at present, seemed like the most endearing thing ever. His eyes went back to your lips, but he didn't move to kiss you again.

You understood - when you pushed yourself off the wall, the world wobbled a bit before righting itself. Sobering walk or no, you were still on the drunken side. You smiled awkwardly at Kensei, though pleasure squirmed in your stomach when he offered you a very slight one back. He reached out and his thumb brushed just underneath your bottom lip, wiping away some smudged gloss. You stood stock still while he did this, mesmerised by this simple movement.

"Should I…?" you said, but you weren't sure how to finish that sentence.

Kensei's smile turned into a smirk.

"You're going to go home and sober up." he told you. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day."

You licked your lips.

"And after that?" you dared to ask.

Kensei's smirk widened a bit, and his hand rumpled your hair. The next thing he said made your stomach clench and heat rush to your face.

"And then you'll come by Ninth and we'll see if we can't find another reason to start celebrating."

#Kensei Muguruma #Kensei x Reader #Bleach #Bleach x Reader #Fanfiction #I love this grumpy man

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