#unohanadaydreams

[cryinglittlepeople]

Olive and Giselle about to have an obnoxious-off (affectionate).

[wing-ed-thing]

Oh my god Shino x reader x Neji….it’s made even worse because Kiba and TenTen are complete enablers of them being nasty competitors. Like where Shino and Neji are trying to be so indirect they’re peripheral, their teammates are egging them ON. TenTen runs across Shino on a training field and just kind of looks him up and down when y/n is mentioned and scoffs, ‘Why even try with Neji as your opponent?’ Or Kiba catches Neji on the street and is all ‘Man, I’ve never heard y/n laugh so hard…Didn’t know Shino had it in him.’

Like they have the perfect blend of team loyalty and audacity to make sure the flames never die.

I WAS DYING OVER THIS I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU HAVE SUCH A BEAUTIFUL BIG BRAIN

It's so true. And I would love to imagine that everyone in the Konoha 12 just ends up picking sides. But you're so right about Kiba and Tenten specifically (I think even Lee would make a dig when he could).

And the use of the term "opponent" is absolutely GOLDEN ofc we expect no less from team Guy. I love the team loyalty angle so much thank you for blessing us

[milky-fixx]

Grind My Gears 

- normal au!mechanic!kenpachi zaraki x reader | bleach  - summary: visiting your parents for the holidays is always trifling, but even more so when you (a) just broke up with your ex, (b) you car breaks down halfway there and you’re forced to confront the bad boy you had a thing with in high school, and (c) you realize that you still have feelings for said guy (and he is still. kinda hot. in a scary, rugged way.) - word count: 6.9k words (hehe 69) - tropes: begrudging friends to lovers? awkward fling as teens to rekindling romance as adults? - tw/cw: 18+ minors dni. fem!reader, sex on a table, kenpachi’s foul mouth, several references to kenpachi’s monstrous cock, size kink, fingering, handjobs, dirty talk, underage drinking/smoking?? (20 is legal age in Japan), reader and kenpachi get frisky when they’re 18+ --author’s note: my late secret santa fic for @unohanadaydreams​! sorry this took so long, but i’m hoping the disgustingly long length makes up for it kind of sort of??? disgustingly long like kenpapi’s co-- wow i'll stop

—

“Goddamnit.”

While you’re no expert on cars, you’re certain that the smoke emanating from your car’s hood is not a good sign. Neither is the sputtering sound coming from the area you vaguely recognize as your engine. You’re still an hour away from your parents’ house, back in your old neighborhood, and you’re hoping–praying, even–that your car makes it. But just after taking its final shuddering breath, the car comes to a complete stop, lurching you forward slightly. You turn the key in the ignition once, then twice. 

Nothing.

You smack your hand against the wheel, cursing your luck. You were supposed to be there by noon time, but an unpleasant conversation with your very recent-ex delayed you. Now the sun is dipping past the rim of the sky, dusk approaching. With a heavy sigh, you end up calling a towing service. They offer to drive you to the nearest auto shop, and you agree. 

Zaraki Auto Repair. 

You’re not sure why the familiarity of the name doesn’t register in you sooner. But it’s not until you’re staring at his rugged, scarred face, with his ever-present scowl, that you realize why you should have remembered. 

If he recognizes you, he doesn’t let it on. You don’t think you’re imagining the way his gaze briefly narrows at the sight of you, but then again, it could be him. 

He rarely ever looked happy unless he was fighting.

As he examines your car, you feel yourself clam up. You clench your fists, suddenly aware of the damp sweat accumulating in your palms. Briefly, you debate asking the tow guy if he could drive you to another shop. But when you glance behind you, he’s already gone. 

Damn.

“Damn. You really did a number on this.”

You nearly jump at the sound of his voice, just as gravelly and deep as you remember. It takes you awhile to register what he said. “Is it…” You clear your throat, swallowing past the lump that’s formed. “That bad?”

“Yeah.” Blunt as ever. “Surprised you made it here in one piece. Only an idiot would drive a car in this condition.” 

An idiot. Your eye twitches in annoyance. If you recall correctly, that was something you used to call him. Not the other way around. He mentions something about spark plugs and oil leaks, but truthfully, you don’t care about the specifics. 

“Can you fix it?”

He emerges from under your car, rising to his full height. You nearly forgot how tall he was. Even back in high school he towered over you. Now? The height difference is just ridiculous. 

“Gimme two days.”

And that is how you end up with Kenpachi Zaraki driving you back to your parents’ home, on a route he knew all too well. 

—

He was a delinquent, honestly. 

Your homeroom teacher approached you with the request. “Please… you’re one of the top students in the class. Zaraki… he’s really bringing down our school rankings. Rumors are going around about… it doesn’t paint a good image of our school’s reputation. Maybe you could mentor him?”

Mentor him? You and Kenpachi had gone to the same school since you were babies, sure, and you did live in the same neighborhood. But he was known for his foul attitude and violent nature. He never showed up to classes, and last time a teacher approached him about his behavior, rumor was that they ended up in the hospital. Word on the street was he spent most of his days getting into fights with students from other schools–sometimes even college students. He was a delinquent, in every definition of the word. 

You were certain he would sooner spit in your face than listen to any drivel you had about “making something out of his future” or “the importance of respecting his education.”

But still. Your teacher had begged and pleaded, even offered to write an amazing letter of recommendation, and to put in a good word with the admissions department for one of your dream colleges. Was it bribery? Sure. Did you care about the morality of it? Not really. Still, you had to try and uphold your end of the deal. 

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

Kenpachi stared you down. Despite being only a third year, he was already over six feet tall, taller than some of the staff of the school. Not only was his size intimidating, but the ever-present scowl on his face was too. You weren’t that short, but next to him, anyone would seem small. You were sure that you made a hilarious sight, trying to block him from exiting through the school’s entrance doors.

“Out of my way.”

You crossed your arms, standing before him defiantly. He cocked his head to the side, gaze narrowing. 

“Are you deaf–”

“No. And no. I won’t.”

Kenpachi’s stare bore into you. Even without the scar across his left eye, he made an intimidating sight. One that would have lesser men quaking.

“And why the fuck not? Who are you tell me I can’t leave?”

But for you? You just saw him as a nuisance that had to be taken care of. Unfortunately, by you. You straightened up before him. 

“We have third period class right now,” you snapped back. “What the fuck do you mean why not? Get back to class.”

His eyes raked down your form, seeming to size you up. Finally, he laughed, a dry, rattling sound that for a moment, had you reconsidering your choice of words.

“I didn’t know Seirei’s star student had such a foul mouth.”

You opened your mouth to retort, when he stepped forward. The wolfish look on his face made you falter, suddenly aware of the truth behind some of those rumors. 

He looked like the kind of person who would devour you whole if you showed any hint of weakness.

“Makes you more interesting. You’re not a goody-two-shoes, stuck-up bitch, after all. Still, I don’t like repeating myself. Get out of my way.”

—

“Seriously, I can find a cab.”

“It’s not a problem. We typically offer to drive customers home,” Yumichika says, handing you the paperwork for the repairs. “It’s a courtesy reserved to our clientele.”

You weigh your options. You could Uber to your parents’ house, but you were tight on money… not to mention how much the repairs would cost you. But if you let them drive you there… Well, as long as you weren’t alone in the car with him. Maybe Yumichika or Ikkaku could take you; it would certainly be less awkward. You remember them vaguely from high school, as the two seemed to be in Kenpachi’s inner circle of… you weren’t sure you’d call them friends. Lackeys, maybe. 

Interesting to see that some things never change. 

“Ikkaku can drop you off at your parents’ house,” Yumichika offers, sensing your hesitance. 

As long as it’s not him, you’d accept any help.

“Thank you–” you start.

“I’m driving her home,” Kenpachi says, brusquely entering the office. “I have to go that way anyways.”

While you smile graciously on the outside, internally you’re blanching. In a car? Alone? With him? You think your flaming death trap of a car is perhaps a better alternative. 

It’s too late to reject the offer, though. Your car is already in his garage. 

Kenpachi grabs keys off the counter, motioning for you to follow him with barely a glance back at you. His lack of hesitation is clear–you have no room to reject his offer. 

–

It’s quiet. Too quiet. 

The both of you sit in the car in absolute, stifling silence as he drives. Glancing at your companion, you note that he’s focused on the road, seeming intent on ignoring you if need be. Was he always this unaffected, this distant? You can’t seem to remember much past his wolfish grin, his bored, dismissive eye roll every time you tried to lecture him about school, the way his large hand felt, rough and calloused, as it gripped your thigh–

Woah. Woah woah woah. 

You shake your head, willing the thought away. Now’s not the time to think about that.

Reaching for the radio, you tune it to the closest station. Of course, the very first thing that plays is a love song. Fuck your luck, honestly. Fiddling with the stereo, you desperately try to find something else. Anything else.

After settling on some generic pop song, you settle back into your seat. You catch him staring at you, and swallow down your reservations. 

The past be damned. You can’t stand how awkward and quiet this reunion is going. 

“So, uh… you’re still in town, I see,” you say.

“Yeah.”

“Never moved?”

“Nope.”

God. You forgot he isn’t one for small talk. Never was. Even back then. 

You try again. “Nice of you to inherit your relatives’ car shop.”

“I didn’t. I took it over after the guy I was working for died.”

“Ah.” You nod slowly. 

“He was old. Weak. Couldn’t throw a punch anymore if he tried. Had no family, so he gave the shop to me.”

“Oh. Oh no.”

He shrugs. “People die. Happens all the time. Too bad he couldn’t put up more of a fight before he kicked the bucket.”

This… is starting to sound suspiciously like Kenpachi had a hand in this death. You force yourself to refrain from speculating, reminding yourself that he is giving you a ride. He is fixing your car. You will graciously accept his favors for two days, and after that you will never see him again. 

“I thought you moved to the city?” Kenpachi says suddenly. 

“Y-Yeah. I’m back for the holidays. Visiting my parents.”

He nods. He brings the cigarette he’s holding in one hand up to his lips, inhaling before blowing a puff of smoke out the window.  

In a sudden jab of irritation, you ask, “Are you smoking right next to me?”

—

“Are you smoking in front of me?”

“Yeah. Why?”

The two of you are having lunch together on your school’s rooftop. Kenpachi usually left school around lunch apparently since he didn’t see the point of staying around after morning classes, so you came up with a tactic to get him to stay:

You would pack an extra bento for him as long as he didn’t skip school during lunch period. 

While Kenpachi was initially reluctant to the idea, claiming it was stupid and a waste of your time, after one bite of your food, he came around. It was almost a daily thing now for him to come to class, and for you to offer him some of your food. 

It was his idea to have lunch up here. While you marveled at the view, Kenpachi ruined the mood by mentioning that he really only came up here to smoke, before pulling out a pack of cigarettes. 

“Kenpachi, we’re eighteen. That’s not even legal!”

“Quit your yammering. Mind your own business, would ya,” he said gruffly.

“That’s kind of hard, since you’re doing it right in front of me!” you fumed. 

College acceptance or not, he really wasn’t worth mentoring. 

—

You still at the memory.

“We’re not kids anymore.” His voice interrupted your train of thought. 

Oh, so he did remember you. He was just acting like he didn’t. You toss him an irate look.

“Yeah, but it still smells like shit.” You wrinkle your nose. “And the smell. It lingers.”

He snorts, putting out the cigarette on the door of his car before tossing it behind him. 

“You never change, huh,” he says sardonically. “You still love to nag.” 

You bristle at the comment. You’d like to think you have changed. It’s him that’s still the same. But just as you’re about to retort, the car stills. You were so distracted by your own thoughts that you didn’t realize he parked right in front of your parents’ house. 

“Ever consider you’re the kind of guy who basically asks to be nagged?” you retort. 

“Heh. Can’t say you’re right about that.” 

You gather your things to you, before you realize that, embarrassing as it is, you were so distracted by the idea of being alone with him that you forgot to ask. Turning to face him, you say, “Yumichika never clarified the price. He threw a few figures around but.... How much is it going to be to fix my car?” 

Kenpachi stares at you long and hard.

“Nothing.” You’re about to protest, when he cuts you off with a raised hand. “It’s on the house.”

You give him an incredulous look.

“Seriously? I can’t accept that.”

His stare bores into you. You always found it rather intimidating, but this time, you meet his gaze, raising your chin defiantly. 

He caves first. 

“Fine. Ten thousand yen for the labor. We already have all the parts.”

Based on your experience with mechanics though, that’s still ridiculously cheap. You can’t accept that favor. Your jaw sets as you intend to argue further with him, but then he unlocks the doors, motioning towards your parents’ house. Your mom approaches, waving at the sight of you. 

“Your stop.”

By the time you make it out of his car, greet your parents, and bring your things to the front doorstep, he’s already gone. Driven away.

—

You don’t want him to owe you anything. 

Not after what happened. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t see you anymore. This? Us? It wasn’t even a thing.”

—

Two days later, Yumichika calls you to inform you that your car is ready for pickup. Your dad drops you off at the shop, and after you pay the fees, you ask him where the boss is. With great amusement, he points you towards the back of the shop, sending you a wink as you walk past him, along with a ‘go get him.’

Your face warms. Are you that obvious?

As you approach the car where Kenpachi’s giant frame is positioned under, you have to stifle a laugh. It’s almost hilarious seeing just how small of space he has to contort his large frame into to do the job. 

Once you’re a few feet from him, you clear your throat. “You and me, Rukongai Bar on 80th Street. This Friday. You down?”

A pause. He wheels himself out from under the car. It is the second time since you’ve known him that Kenpachi looks completely caught off-guard. 

“Should a woman really be inviting me to a bar on that side of town?” he finally says, an edge to his tone.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t tell me you suddenly give a shit about gender roles, Kenpachi.”

He seems to think about it. Your palms feel sweaty, and you clench and unclench your hands into fists. You’ve never seen him debate for something this long. He’s always been a man of action. 

“...See you then,” he says, then halts, as if he’s about to add something onto that. Before he shrugs it off, putting down his wrench and wiping his hands on a rag. 

You fidget. Somehow it feels wrong to leave off on that note. 

“The car looks great, by the way. Seems like it runs better.”

He nods. “It should. Spent all day and night working on it.”

Despite yourself, you feel your cheeks heat up. Your traitorous heart skips a beat. 

“R-Really? You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs again. “I promised it by a certain date. Had to get the job done.”

“As thanks, then…” you say, finding your voice once more. “Please allow me to treat you to some drinks!”

“Alright,” he says. As if it is the easiest thing in the world. 

Just two adults getting drinks together. Two adults getting to catch up again, after having grown up and spent several years apart. Two adults who or may not have a history with each other. Two adults who may or may not still have a lingering fondness for one another. 

It could be that simple, right? 

Right?

–

As Friday approaches, you grow oddly giddy. So much so that nothing can dampen your mood. Not your family’s comments at their holiday gatherings, the you really still haven’t found someone yet? quips. Not the sympathetic looks when one of your parents chimes in about you going through a recent breakup. Nothing. 

After one such party, you check your phone, which you haven’t done all night. 

Two unread messages. 

One of them from an unknown number. 

“Kenpachi. Make sure your gas doesn’t fall below half a tank for at least a month.”

The other. From an all too familiar name. One that you thought you blocked after your last fight. 

“Hey, can we talk? I know we left off on a bad foot, but I miss you–”

You don’t even finish reading the message before you toss the phone onto your bed. Heart pounding, you plop onto the edge of your bed, clutching a hand to your chest.

What are the odds that you would meet Kenpachi again, after all these years. The odds that it was his auto shop that your car was towed to. The odds that you would still feel something after all this time. And the odds that it would be while you were still heart-broken over your–

History has a funny way of repeating itself. 

–

It was all way too much. The stress of entrance exams, compounded with the fact that your boyfriend of three years had just broken up with you. And not to mention, dealing with fucking Kenpachi, who you had to tutor because his grades were atrocious. 

“If you’re going to be an ass,” you said, dropping your notebooks and textbooks unceremoniously onto the table. The loud thud did little to ease your sour mood. Honestly, the fact that Kenpachi decided to actually show up this time did little to comfort you either. You were out for blood. “Please don’t. I’m not in the mood.”

To his credit, he usually knew when to shut up. He was the kind who didn’t waste words if he didn’t need to.

Kenpachi raised a brow. “What’s got your panties in a tangle?”

You didn’t know why. It’s not like it was uncharacteristic of him to be crass. It wasn’t even him necessarily. It’s more that everything had piled up, and his comment was the last thing you needed before you snapped. 

He was certainly the last person you should be doing this in front of. But you burst into tears in front of him. Your words jumbled in a barely intelligible train of sobbing.

“I just… I just got broken up with, okay? And I don’t exactly f-feel like going out, much less coming to the library to tutor you, when you don’t even show up half the time! And college exams are so s-s-stressful, I’ve been biting my nails down to the beds. Everyone has such h-high expectations for me, but I don’t think I can m-meet them.”

Kenpachi was stunned into silence. He stared at you as if you had suddenly grown two heads. You didn’t know why, but his lack of response stung even more. Of course, what could you expect? This was Kenpachi, for crying out loud. Your school’s number one delinquent. He wouldn’t know what to do. 

Finally, uncomfortably, as if he wasn’t used to being the shoulder to cry on (you doubt he was), he handed you a handkerchief that he grabbed from another student passing by. They complained, but a look from Kenpachi silenced them before they scurried off. 

You dabbed your eyes with it, sniffling. 

Still awkward, he rubbed the back of his spiky hair. He said it almost like a command. Which in hindsight, was even more hilarious–to see just how out of place Kenpachi was with a woman’s emotions.

“Nothing and no one is worth your tears. So just… I dunno. Quit crying already.”

—

The bar is crowded, even for a Friday night, Bodies bustling past you, the various conversations around you raucous and rowdy. You picked the bar because you figured Kenpachi would enjoy the environment, especially since it was on his side of town. Sure enough, there are all kinds of hardened-looking individuals frequenting the bar. Surprisingly though, Kenpachi is easy enough to spot, his sheer size and distinctly spiky hair adding to his recognizability. 

He’s already downing a drink when you slide into the seat next to him.

“You seem right at home here,” you greet him with. 

“I come here often.” 

You order a beer, before sitting back down. 

“This brings back memories.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Last time we went drinking together.”

He lets out a sharp bark of laughter. 

“Still shitty at handling your liquor?”

“No!” you protest, taking a sip of your beer. The face you make says it all. Kenpachi snorts, taking a long sip of his second beer. 

“Fancy place,” you comment. 

“Didn’t you pick it?”

“Yeah,” you say, jabbing him in the side. “Because I thought you’d like it.”

“Well, why would you go through all that trouble,” he says drily. You give him a sour look. 

You take a few more sips of your beer, before slamming the bottle down. He raises a brow at you. Liquid courage does wonders for your nerves, as you work up the courage to ask him the question that’s been on your mind.

“So… you got a girlfriend?”

He looks at you like you just asked him the dumbest question in the world.

“You got a boyfriend?” he asks.

Alright. He won’t share until you do. 

“Ha. Had. Right before I drove down actually.”

He stares at you for a moment, before taking another swig of his drink. 

“You?” you press. 

He laughs sardonically. “Nah. Got the kind of face that scares women off, apparently.”

“Well.” He glances at you. “Most of them.”

“You’re not ugly, Ken. You’ve got the bad boy kind of appeal. Girls dig that.”

Another raised brow. You really are getting him to work his facial muscles today. A sharp contrast to his constant scowl or terrifying grin. 

“Last time we spoke…” you start. 

“Don’t mention it,” he interrupts. 

“I wanted to explain my side.”

“Ha. There’s nothing to explain. What happened, happened,” he says, something hard in his voice. 

“Kenpachi.”

–

“We’re going,” Kenpachi had said decisively after your crying episode. Neither of you were the partying type, but here you were, two strangers in a sea of grinding teenagers and booze. He grabbed you a drink, and the two of you crammed yourselves onto the narrow staircase. You knew that Kenpachi wanted to get your mind off things. But somehow the sight of everyone practically grinding against each other did little to help you forget your ex.

To his credit, Kenpachi looked just as out of place. He rested his arms on his legs, holding his beer in between them. He fidgeted with the rim of the bottle, looking like he’d rather be any place but here. 

You took a sip of your drink, smacking your lips at the taste, before pulling a face. 

He snorted. “First time?”

“Why does it taste like ass?”

He shrugged. “It’s beer. “‘S supposed to.”

You offered him your drink. “I don’t like it.”

He grabbed it from you, taking a big swig. A group of girls squeezed their way past you on the steps, giggling and tipsy. You inched out of their way, but one of them still managed to knee you in the back–hard. You would have fallen forward down the last few steps, if Kenpachi hadn’t caught you. 

“Ah. Sorry–”

The two of you locked eyes. This close you realized how deep the scar on his face ran, the strong set of his jaw. His wiry, muscled arm around your waist.

Hesitantly, you leaned closer. He didn’t move away. 

Your first kiss with Kenpachi was a spark lighting on kindling, over before you knew it.  He didn’t respond. When you pulled away in disappointment though, he grabbed the front of your shirt, yanking you forwards. 

Your kiss set you ablaze. He slammed your lips onto his. His teeth dug into your bottom lip, and you gasped at the iron tang of blood in your mouth. That seemed to only spur him further. He practically hauled you into his lap. Before you knew it, you were making out in the open. 

Kenpachi shoved his hand down your shirt, palming your breast. You straddled his leg, playing with the buckle of his belt. When your hand brushed the tent in his pants, he hissed, bucking up into your touch. 

You were only snapped out of it when someone gasped near you. When you looked up, it was him. Your ex. 

—

The next day, rumors flew around that you were fucking Kenpachi. Certainly the sight of you two at the party was proof enough. 

For that reason, your ex-boyfriend asked to get back together again. He said he realized he couldn’t live without you. You had the choice between Kenpachi, a delinquent, rough around the edges, and crass. Versus your ex. Excitement versus stability, the bad boy versus the good guy. 

You chose your ex. 

Kenpachi was exciting, but you couldn’t fathom seeing yourself in a long-term relationship with him. Not to mention, you doubted you two would be on the same path. You had aspirations, dreams for your career.

You stopped showing up to your meetings with Kenpachi. And by the time he confronted you, you told him, with no little uncertainty,

“I’m sorry, but I can’t see you anymore. This? Us? It wasn’t even a thing.”

You didn’t stay around to see his reaction. 

The irony is, you and your ex ended up breaking up again soon after once you found out of his infidelity. 

— 

“What I mean to say was… if I was–more honest with myself. Less cowardly,” you start. You try and gauge his reaction. Kenpachi is as impassive as always. You swallow it down. “I wouldn’t have chosen him.”

He glances at you briefly, before staring down at the rim of his drink.

“I–I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve felt bad about it ever since.”

“The past is the past,” he says. “Forget about it.” 

“But I–”

He groans. “Look, I’m already over it. You should be, too. What kinda guy would I be to hold onto a silly high school thing.”

“So, you’re… not mad?”

He stares at you blankly. “How many times do I have to repeat myself? I’m not a fucking loser.”

“Okay, okay… yeesh.” The two of you sit in silence for a few more moments. 

“I did… I did mean it, though. At the time.”

“Don’t,” Kenpachi says sharply. “Quit bringing it up!”

“What I said… That didn’t mean I didn’t like you at all, you know that?”

He falls silent. While he won’t look at you, you get the sense that he’s listening intently for your next words.

“I did like you. I still…”

You pause, losing courage in the words you want to say.

“Still,” he repeats flatly.

It’s hard to figure out what he’s thinking. He’s inscrutable. He seems like an easy man to decipher, but when it comes to anything but fighting? He’s a closed book.

“I… I can’t say I’m completely over you, Ken,” is what you mutter out in a rush, cheeks warm.  You’re scared to look at him, to witness his reaction. 

He says nothing. His silence puts you on edge. He motions the bartender over before paying for his drinks. Then he’s tugging your arm. 

“What?”

“I’m not gonna carry you, even if I can. Get your ass up.”

The two of you end up in an alley at the side of the bar. When you’re a good distance away from anyone, Kenpachi turns to you.

“Why are we–”

And then he’s grabbing you by the waist, tugging you into him. You land in his chest with an oomph. Then he’s leaning down, grasping your shoulders before slamming his lips onto yours. Just like before. 

Kenpachi doesn’t hold anything back. His nose digs into your cheek. His lips greedily claim yours, over and over again, as if he’s making up for lost time. 

Breaking the kiss, you stare up at him breathlessly. 

“You’re an idiotic woman, you know that?” he says defiantly. “Denying what’s yours.”

The taste of beer is heavy on his tongue. He’s warm, so warm against you. 

“You’re not gonna be able to get rid of me that easily this time, though. I don’t care what kind of loser ex you have waiting for you at home. You want me. That’s good enough.” 

Your eyes widen. “Kenpachi….” 

Why did you have no idea he felt like this before? Is he right–are you actually an idiot who didn’t notice?

“Besides…” He grins maniacally. “Can anyone else compare to this?”

His mouth crashes onto yours once more. Kenpachi’s not the kind of man to hold himself back. He kisses you with fervor, like he wants to fuel the fire in both of you with each touch. He has no reservations.

Lifting you by the waist, he pins you against the wall with his body. He’s all tough muscles, hard and bulky even through his shirt. Your breath hitches when you feel his erection press against your thigh. It feels massive.  

You want to feel more of him. You want to see what he’s been denying from you for so long. 

“Your place or mine?” you gasp out. 

“The shop is closer,” he grunts out. 

He’s right. You don’t fancy having your parents catch you getting frisky either. He grabs you a cab. The entire time, his hand grips your thigh possessively, the calloused pads of his thumbs stroking your skin sending shivers down your spine. A promise for what’s to come. 

—

In a tangle of limbs, the two of you manage to make it through the door and into his shop.

Kenpachi swipes a hand over his work desk, sending his supplies scattering. Then, in an impressive feat of strength, he lifts you around the waist with the other hand, placing you on his table. You yelp. 

His lips are on yours in a bruising kiss. It almost feels like he’s snarling through the kiss, his teeth bared. His large hand roughly squeezes your breast through your shirt and you moan.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Keep making those sounds.” 

His other hand splays your legs apart, near ripping your skirt off with his brute strength. You slide it off you, and his hand digs crudely between your thighs. He raises a brow at your choice of underwear, a scrappy thong that he could snap in two with one tug, before surging forward. He presses down hard on your clit with his thumb, and you mewl. 

“K-Kenpachi, please… more.” 

You unbutton your shirt. Kenpachi watches you strip with an inscrutable expression. When the fabric falls, and he gets the whole view of you in your skimpy bra, his hands come forward. Clamping around your hips, he drags you forwards as if you’re nothing but a rag doll.

He thumbs the thin, scrappy material covering your breasts. Your cheeks flush when he flicks a nipple through your bra.

“You dress like this all the time?” he finally asks.

“Ah. No, I just thought…” 

His eyes flash. 

“You knew we’d fuck tonight, huh.” 

The crass, plain way he says it has you flustered. Closer now, you tug at the hem of his shirt. He yanks it over his head, before tugging off his pants. The image of his boxers, seeming to barely contain the sizable members inside them, has you clenching your thighs. He looks just as big as you felt against you earlier.

He surges forward, his hands yanking down the cups of your bra down as he pushes your breasts together, seeming to enjoy the sight of them. His other hand circles your damp pussy through the thin fabric, before yanking it down as well. Impatient, as if he can’t wait to feel you. Suddenly he slips a long finger inside you, and you gasp. 

“Shit. You’re so…” 

He grunts. “You can take it.” And sure enough, the burn of him is eased by some of your own arousal. But it still stings. 

Slipping his finger in and out of you, Kenpachi builds up to a rhythm. He slips in another finger with little warning, thrusting all the way to the knuckle. You yelp, unprepared for the intrusion. He swirls his fingers around, looking bemused when your walls grip his fingers as he slides out with a pop.

“Damn. You are tight.” 

His comment, said in the most casual tone, flusters you. You reach between you for his boxers, feeling him more substantially now. 

Oh. Oh god. Your eyes widen as you feel just how thick he is. Hesitantly, you pull him out of his boxers, your trepidation increasing. Holy fuck. Is it possible for someone’s cock to be this big? It’s long and girthy, nearly the size of your forearm.

He’s watching you carefully. 

“We go just as far as you want.” 

You stare up at him, biting down on your lip. Do you want it? Your hand strokes him from base to tip once, and it throbs in your hand. Your fingers can barely even wrap around it. You squeeze lightly, and Kenpachi makes a guttural sound in the back of his throat, thrusting forward into your hand. 

Yes. You do want it.

You wonder idly how many partners he’s scared off with this thick cock of his. It makes you all the more eager to keep him to yourself, just for you to enjoy. 

Jerking him off with one hand, your other hand comes up, grasping him by the back of his neck. You bring him down for a kiss. It’s oddly intimate, him fingering you, you stroking him on his work desk. Kenpachi snarls into the kiss when your thumb works over the tip of him, spreading his precum around. His fingers jab into you, and you jolt, moaning against him.

Breaking the kiss, you decide that if you’re going to try and take his downright monstrous cock, you definitely need more prep. Your hand leaves his neck, coming down to play with your clit. That, combined with his fingers inside you, has you shaking around him. He’s watching you intently, his hand a near vice grip around your breast. You moan in slight pain, and he lessens his hold. 

Then his hand is digging into your waist. It seems the faster you stroke his cock, the harder he grips onto you. The thought that Kenpachi is going to leave his marks all over you has you working your clit faster, swirling harder. 

Kenpachi’s third finger circles your entrance, his eyes locking with yours. He surges all three fingers into you with little remorse, and you have to bite down on your lip to hold back your yell. But when he starts relentlessly pumping his thick fingers into you? You can’t hold back.

“K-Kenpachi!”

He grunts, seeming pleased by your reaction. He fucks his fingers into you as if it’s a preview to how he’s about to fuck his cock into you–an all-out onslaught, merciless. Kenpachi shows little remorse in the way his fingers burrow into you, pressing deeper and deeper until you can almost feel him in your gut.

Kenpachi’s fingers leave you, and you nearly cry at the feeling of emptiness. But then the thick, fat head of his cock is at your entrance, and your breath catches. He catches your gaze again, holding it as he sinks the tip of his cock into you. The stretch is intense. Even his large fingers are nothing compared to the real thing. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this full, and he’s barely gotten started. Your thighs tremble around his waist as he hunches forward. He exhales roughly, seeming near overwhelmed by the pleasure of being mere inches inside you. 

“Shit,” he curses. “Who said you could be this tight. Fuck.” 

Kenpachi’s rutting against you, working his cock inside you slowly. A glance down has you tightening around him, and he grunts, grasping your hips tighter. He’s only a third of the way in, yet he’s already stretching you to your absolute limit. You marvel at the fact that you can even take such a monstrous cock as his, even as your walls clamp down insistently around him. 

“Feels great,” he grunts, dragging his cock out of you, before surging forward again. “Feels fucking amazing.”

Kenpachi’s hips pick up the pace. Each thrust has him inching further in, until you’ve taken in half of his cock. His hands dig into your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he fucks into you, his hips moving like pistons. You’re mewling, your hands gripping his forearms, searching for some kind of purchase in his relentless onslaught. 

He’s snarling with every thrust into you like a man possessed. His gaze seems fixated on the way your pussy swallows him whole, clinging desperately to his length. The sounds of your coupling seem to amuse him greatly, a wicked grin stretching his face at the loudening squelch accompanying each of his thrusts. 

“You gettin’ off to this? You like being fucked like a whore?”

You moan, shaking your head. Your nails dig into his arms, but Kenpachi shakes one of your hands away. With his now free hand, he grabs a handful of one of your breasts, squeezing and kneading. 

“I think you do. Think you like it rough. You tightened up on me just now.” He grunts, his hips near bruising in the way they slam into you. 

You cry out his name. Kenpachi’s eyes narrow, his thrusts increasing in ferocity. The slap of your hips is surely loud enough to be heard across the street. Releasing your breast, his hand coming up to grip your chin. He presses a finger down on your lips. 

“Suck.”

You do, slipping his finger into your mouth before lolling your tongue around it. Then he brings his hand down to your nub, his thumb crudely rubbing your clit. He doesn’t go for technique as much as sheer force, but it, combined with his cock pounding into you, has you trembling around him in no time. 

“K-Kenpachi!” Your toes curl, your legs tensing around his midsection as waves upon waves of pleasure crash around you. For several beats, you’re in sheer bliss, muscles clenched, that is, until Kenpachi’s heavy panting and cursing brings you back down.

He’s gripping your thigh, using it as leverage to fuck into you. You’ve taken almost all of his cock by this sound. Sweat trails down his forehead, his teeth gnashing together.  

“Where do you want it?” he grunts out.

“I—on my—“ 

You gesture at your body helplessly. Kenpachi drags his cock out of you, making a hoarse sound in the back of his throat at the loud squelch from your combined fluids. His hand flies over his cock, his hips tensed. With a guttural groan of your name, thick jets of his spend splatter onto your stomach and chest, some even landing as far as your chin.  He’s panting heavily, his fist still working over his cock as he milks himself of every last drop of his seed before he slumps forward.

“Fuck,” he curses, catching himself on the table before he falls onto you. He’s still breathing hard, his gaze darting to the cum pooling onto your skin. With a grunt, he grabs the nearest rag to wipe you off, thankfully a clean one. Then he wipes himself. You press a lazy kiss against his shoulder, expressing your gratitude. Then he hoists you up into his arms, before dumping you onto the couch.

He does slump over you this time, and your face ends up smushed up against his armpit. You smack him lightly, before he adjusts your positions, his body laying over yours more comfortably. 

“Sleep,” he grumbles out.

Again, a demand. Not a request. But you’ll let it slide this time, you think. Your eyelids drooping, you drift off to sleep in the safety of his arms.

—

The next day, Yumichika and Ikkaku make it to the shop. They open the garage door, only to be greeted by quite a sight. 

Yumichika whistles appreciatively. “Well, would you look at that~”

Their boss and you traipsed across the couch in his office, naked as the day you were born. A thin blanket covers both your bodies, a precarious method of preserving your modesty. Kenpachi’s snores serve as the sole proof that you two are alive, his arm wrapped around your body possessively. 

Grinning, Yumichika placing his hand out. Ikkaku sighs, fishing around in his pockets before forking over 2000¥.

“Told you they would,” he says, counting the money with glee. 

“How was I supposed to know?” Ikkaku threw his hands up, smacking them against his head. “You think the boss has game? I didn’t think he’d get to fuck on the first date.” 

Yumichika rolls his eyes, pocketing his cash. Glancing over at your bodies, he resists the urge to take a picture of you two. God, he loved a juicy story.

“Mission success. Getting the boss back together with his high school sweetheart. The only woman he loved.”

[criminal-sen]

Okay I'm gonna have to post goth separately cuz I'm stuck on it, but here's: emo, loli, and the winner ofc which is rave. (I did a poll a few days ago in case you're wondering, was just gonna draw the winner but here we are)

Also

please have a closer look at his pissy little face<3

@unohanadaydreams figured I'd tag you since you were Very Adamant about rave winning lol (it was SO much fun to draw btw)

[bleachbleachbleach]

five comfort characters, five tags

Thank you for the tag, @fractoluminescence! I made a new post because this got long, but the original meme is at this link, and @fractoluminescence's cool responses are at this one, if you'd like to read everyone's (I recommend!).

I had a difficult time developing an answer because I got too in the weeds about what the definition of “comfort character” was, rip. It turns out there are a lot of definitions, ranging from characters you find cozy, to characters you find relatable, to characters you look up to, to more elaborate definitions that attempt to articulate those distinctions between a character you love and a character that you would sink to the bottom of the Marianas Trench with.

I’ll define “comfort character” as that thing that begins by delineating, say, a show you love so so much (Haikyuu!!—my soul for a volleyball) vs. a show you want to be fannish about (Bleach. BleachBleachBleach, even. BLEACHBLEACHBLEACH, even), and then refines further into characters you love (my eternal Soi Fon era) vs. the characters you’re in the Trench about. Because while I probably think an above average amount about Soi Fon, and love seeing her on my dash, and do want to write for her once I alight upon some idea that sufficiently connects my headcanons about her to 1) actual canon and 2) a Story, she is not who I:

think about every single ding dong day;

regularly revel in in daydreams;

both consciously and unconsciously filter my lived experiences or relationships through, such that they become doubled; they find translation, in an act of both processing (growing distance from, or increasing intimacy with) the experience and in tugging at the character themselves, growing them into something that proceeds from their canon or offers an opportunity to entertain new and additional dimensions.

I think the key elements here are:

the alwaysness of this—the readiness to be in the soup at all times;

how personal the engagements are, which I think is sometimes to do with the relatability of a character (proximity to oneself) and is sometimes personal to… the character? Like, the intimacy of wanting to both crystallize one’s understanding of a beloved character by stress-testing their concept, and to spin them out, break them from what is canonically known just to see how much depth they have beyond that and in how many ways they might be known.

…Which, now that I’ve written that, is... just my definition of “blorbo” and not “comfort character,” but maybe the terms are synonymous??? who knows—AS THOUGH BLORBO HAS A DEFINITION AND ISN’T WHOLLY MEME-DERIVED TO BEGIN WITH. AS THOUGH ANY OF THESE THINGS HAVE PRESCRIPTIVE DEFINITIONS.

Anyway, all of that is the appeal of writing fanfic, to me, so it technically extends to anyone I’ve had occasion to write. But that’s within the specific action of writing a story, or preparing to write a story, or thinking about writing a story.

If we’re talking “always” and unconsciously, readily, blorbo-ily, whether there’s a story or not, then #1-3 are and have been for the last four years:

Hitsugaya

Hinamori

Matsumoto

They are who I am most inclined to give things to, or translate things through, and am most interested in defining/destroying. <333

There are probably use-cases/concrete examples that should go here, in addition to the somewhat woowoo definition above, but part of me is shy, and another part is like, those are what the stories are, and another part is “those two parts are the same part...” and yet another is “those two parts are the exact opposite of each other..."

So instead I'll no-pressure tag @confluencechimera, @recurring-polynya, @afinepiece, @bendingwind, and @unohanadaydreams!

Below the cut because it's not Bleach-related enough: I promise I’m not trying to be evasive/coquettish on purpose, but I don’t think I can get myself to put my thoughts about my lifetime character for this on Tumblr, because according to me, organizationally, that’s not where they go. So I’ll skip him. I’m also one of those people where my idea of comfort is to lean into the negative and feel comforted by the experience of being joined in misery by others, rather than go the cozy route. In that usage my comfort “character” is Law and Order: SVU because it’s like 800 episodes of people having the worst day of their lives and/or people on absolutely depraved sprees, depending on which side of the story you focus on. But also that show is deeply unserious, pleasingly formulaic, and has infinite rewatchability. So let's say those are responses #4 and #5!!

[hitsugaya-toushirou]

Tag Game

Tagged by @bleached-socks

Tag whoever you want to get to know better!

Let's see first ones that come to mind: @rays-of-fire-and-ice @unohanadaydreams @housevael @elyonholic @taichouu

(Anyone else who sees this and wants to do one, you can go ahead and say I tagged you too ;3)

Three Ships: Hmm if we're talking Bleach then I'll go with... IchiIshi, ShinHina, and... IkkaYumi (the one in my head). There's not much content out there for some of these (english fanbase-wise) but they just do something to my brain.

First Ship: Now that's hard... I honestly don't have a clue. It's probably something from like. Vampire Knight but I couldn't tell you what lol

Last Song: Passion by Granrodeo :)

Last Film: The Menu (2022). A friend showed it to me a few months ago and I decided to pass it on and show it to my mother lol

Currently Reading: The Samurai and the Cross by M. Antoni J. Ucerler. Surprisingly Bleach related! I haven't gotten very far into it but I was wondering if learning more about Christianity in Japan would let me glean a deeper understanding of what Kubo was attempting to do with the whole Shinigami/Quincy thing.

Currently Watching: Just finished the most recent episode of Dungeon Meshi so it'd have to be that! Everyone should read this manga btw <3

Currently Consuming: Water 💧💧💧

Currently Craving: 🤔 Can I say energy? I'd love to have some energy rn

[tuliharja]

Five comfort characters, five tags

Thank you so much for tagging me @unohanadaydreams!

The timing of this tag game wouldn't have come in more ironic timing than it did, since just recently my one friend asked me about my own comfort characters. To be honest, I think when I move to a new fandom, my comfort character changes along the way. Though, at times I notice myself going back to certain fandoms and reading about certain characters or ships, so maybe those in a way comfort me. But then I read about other people's answers, which made me realize the definition of comfort character differs from person to person. Yes, there are some similarities, and even in some cases, the definition can vary between characters. It's all about how one views and handles them. So, I've tried to make my own list with explanations of why these characters are my comfort characters (which was very hard. Not just because of the explanations, but also just listing only five of them!)

Tomoyo-hime (from Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle). Probably my oldest blorbo. Writing her is extremely easy for me. Not to mention she reminds me of all the good and pure things in the whole world with that glint of mischievousness. Just thinking about her calmness and beautiful smile soothes me. Not to mention she is the other part of my ultimate OTP, so when I talk/write about her, I can talk about my OTP. (And oh boy. I have a lot to say/write about them! And things concerning them and around them.) She is just extremely comfortable to me.

Yoruichi Shihoin (from BLEACH). When you don't know what to draw, either draw Tomoyo or Yoruichi, my brain whispers to me when I'm stuck on which anime/manga woman to draw. Yoruichi is extremely easy for me to draw. Not to mention there is just something in her character that draws my attention in art-wise. I really like to both draw Yoruichi and look at the art of her. It brings me a sense of serenity and makes me want to draw something cool or amazing. She is a very great character. I also like the fact the manga didn't reveal everything about her, so there is room to write about her if I so want. Not to mention she is a very layered character underneath her cattish attitude. But to me, she is mostly my art blorbo.

Shinji Hirako (from BLEACH). This feels very random, even to me. But after I mulled over this matter a good while, I realized Shinji is my comfort character. Each time when I've been away from Bleach fandom and I want to read a Bleach fic, I unconsciously start to look for fics where is Shinji. There is just something about the piano teeth man who brings me a sense of security, despite the fact he is a goofy mess. Not to mention he is an extremely layered character, which makes him just a delicious character to read about. (Sadly, I still can't read fics where he and Hiyori appear as main characters as usual in such fics their slang/dialect is so strong, I get lost in translation...)

Furina (From Genshin Impact). One of my newer blorbos. I can't help but just feel most about her. Even before the big revelation about her, everything about her made me root for her and feel this kinship that is very hard for me to explain. More so, after the big revelation about her. There is something about Furina that brightens my day and makes me feel reassured. Especially when I think how she can mess up badly or be a bundle of anxiety, yet still keeps going on despite her many failures and faults. Not to mention she is a very complex and pretty character. I definitely want to make art about her at some point~.

Lucifer Morningstar (from Lucifer). My newest, shiny blorbo. I must admit I'm not sure why he is my blorbo. The fact he is such a layered character? The fact he looks drop-dead gorgeous? He has more issues than one can count with two hands, yet still chooses to ignore that all? The huge angst potential? The fact despite the fact he can (and will) act like an absolute a-hole yet is the sweetest thing ever? Or he knows how to live, but can still be very insightful and all that more? Haha, I don't know, but I sure do know underneath that wild party animal, he is the most lovable guy ever and that's magnetic. Plus, he is what he is and is (mostly) unapologetic about it.

Honorable mentions: Juushiro Ukitake (Bleach), Tobirama Senju (Naruto), Madara Uchiha (Naruto), Thrawn (Star Wars, Penelope Eckhart (Villains Are Destined to Die), and Riruka Dokugamine (Bleach).

Tagging (with no pressure): @officerjennie, @callmeasyouwantidk, @jkrobertson, @the-con-she-called-conscience and @lemongrass-and-cedarwood.

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

Thank you for an Amazing Year!!

Another year done and dusted, it's hard to believe! However, it's been an incredible year as a BLEACH fan. The first cour of the anime was so much more than what I hoped for, with fantastic animation, music, and voice acting. I absolutely loved every second of it and I am so excited to see what they bring to cour 2, I hope to see all of you there when the time comes.

Outside of Tumblr it's been quite a year, and you'll notice a few times throughout I mentioned my life getting hectic. Unfortunately, this is likely to continue in the new year. I'll be taking a short break from January 2nd to 4th, but back online on the 5th. Of course there will be a queue in the meantime and I thank you all for your patience.

Thank you again to everyone who participated in or supported the events I hosted this year, particularly the BLEACH Anime Celebration, it was amazing to see all of the submissions and to read responses to questions each week.

Thank you so much to everyone who liked, reblogged, or commented on any of my posts, I truly appreciate your support and you're part of the reason I have stuck around for this long.

Special thanks goes to these individuals for their continuous support through PMs, comments, reblogs and/or likes:

@bleachbleachbleach/ @whipplefilter/ @ippodity, @canariie, @alexiethymia, @tinaillustrations, @unohanadaydreams, @missrambler / @dont-look-up, @shirohyorin, @ryusxnka, @moon-light-mistress, @im-ichihime-trash, @pinkhairedlily, @recurring-polynya, @troius, @rainfestive, @el-yon, @puff-chibi, @hesitationss / @mercurialwitch, @iz-star, @hh-ms-nm, and @xxhanabifireworksxx.

Let's make 2023 just as good for BLEACH! I'm definitely looking to do some events in the new year, so keep an eye out for those.

Happy new year everyone! :D

[plaidpyjamas]

Couple'a Mayuris

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Closeups plus the panels I referenced (screenshots from @unohanadaydreams )

[cryinglittlepeople]

@unohanadaydreams​ HEHEHE yeah, that’s my fav thing abt Olive. 

Yeah, in the edo Japan environment of Soul Society she’s very modern, but if she goes to the world of the living she looks incredibly out of place in her 1920′s fashion!

[54prowl]

BE GAY DO CRIME (4/?)

QUICK send me 25$ and i’ll draw you in the barbie/ken meme

thank u to @dabislittlemouse @honeylavendr @unohanadaydreams @vs-redemption @verlainepaul

twt | ig | ko-fi | past comms | mermay

(prev) 4 (next)

-

will keep slots open until the end of may. more events to come! want to join the next event’s taglist?

[snurtle]

when @unohanadaydreams​ recognizes the importance of yamamoto’s big naturals

[milky-fixx]

payback.

BLEACH | mayuri kurotsuchi x reader

rating: 18+ smut summary: you are mayuri’s newest fourth seat who enjoys testing the limits of his patience. little do you know, you’ve gotten deeper under his skin than you’re aware of. or: in which mayuri, bursting with sexual frustration, fucks himself in front of/with your gigai  tw/cw: 18+ only, afab reader, female pronouns, dubcon leaning towards noncon (highly dubious if gigais can consent), mouthfucking, masturbation, degradation, legit mayuri calls you only awful names lmfao, mayuri likes your mammaries, references to age gap (kind of??? i mean he’s old as shit and you’re younger but def an adult too), power dynamics, control issues, gigai... fucking... only slightly crack word count: 2k

my christmas present last year for @unohanadaydreams! she has given me permission to post here

—--

Mayuri Kurotsuchi prided himself on his ingenuity. He was the pioneer of some of Seireitei’s finest technological staples–the new Soul communicators, gigai that stretched and shaped to one’s reiatsu. Nevermind the fact that he had inherited his lab from a former conniving blonde taicho It was purely his own intellectual proclivities that had propelled Seireitei into the modern world, despite his forebearer’s accomplishments. He had created artificial life, had stretched the very limits of one’s imagination for what could be created.

But there was one thing that he did not create, one invention that served to only infuriate him whenever anyone and everyone around him reminded him of its existence.

“Oh? So you possess some of his junk, too?”

You looked up from the shiny, new–he sniffed distastefully–ineffectual plastic swill in your hands. Cheaply designed. Mass-produced. A knockoff of what true genius is.

The cellphone.

“Taicho! It’s not junk. It’s a modern method of communication. If you bothered to play around with it like one of your other little toys, I’m sure you’d like it–”

“Do not even speak to me about that man’s inferior creations!” Mayuri seethed.

He ground his teeth together, feeling the joints in his earpiece grind. Did he not make it clear his distaste for that man’s designs? Did you not even bother to read the training manual, which explicitly had a section about this kind of thing? How much more did he have to spell it out to his mindless, dim-witted subordinates that they were not to tamper with Urahara’s inventions?!

“Akon, you useless cretin, please inform (Y/N) of our policy about those asinine contraptions–”

Akon looked up from something in his hands. Oh. Oh no. Hellfire. Was that–was that truly—

Mayuri felt his temper rise once again.

“Oh, uh, sorry, taicho. (Y/N) sent me a funny meme and I just—”  Mayuri crossed his arms together, scowling. Akon quickly shoved his phone into the pocket of his hakama. “Of course, taicho. No phones allowed. We all know the policy.”

Mayuri whirled around, smacking the phone away from your hands. It landed on the floor with a sickening crack. You yelped, scrambling for it. A twisted smile curled on his lips. Heh. As he thought, such an inferior creation couldn’t even stand the mere force of physics–

“It’s a good thing Urahara threw in a screen protector for free!” you said gleefully, holding up the cracked phone screen. Mayuri noted with disgust that only the plastic surface broke, the glass screen behind it remarkably intact. He ignored the small kindle of interest in him at its sheer indestructibility.

He sneered. He absolutely hated that man.

–

 Mayuri, to his defense, did not think much of his particular detestation towards your adoration of his former taicho. He was after all, inundated with several comparisons of his accomplishments to Urahara’s. It would make any scientist ticked off.

But what did make him pause is the fact that whenever he thought of Urahara, the sound of your voice would grate his ears.

“Urahara-san is such a genius. Look at his newest invention, Kurotsuchi-taicho!”

“Wow, I wish I’d been around when he was Head of the Shinigami Research Institute.”

Mayuri had several hypotheses over his irrepressible annoyance towards your adoration of his former taicho. Neither of them more plausible than the others.

One, you were a new recruit, his new fourth seat. It could be a generational thing–he wanted to instill upon your idiotic, misguided mind the importance of his research. You had a startling lack of respect towards authority; your response to his threats to chain you to his lab room and pick apart your brain were followed merely by a waggle of your brows, a certain suggestive air.

“Promise that, taicho? I find men who want to pick apart my brain irresistible.”

He howled at you, flung every name in the book, asked what kind of uncultivated manner the Sixth Division had instilled you. No wonder they’d shipped you off to his division--the thought of Byakuya Kuchiki, Mr. Prim and Noble, putting up with your lib? Inconceivable. 

But still–perhaps he could mold you. You, his budding protege. Mayuri never took to the mentor role, despised most other peons, but you–

You.

Many times he had caught his stare lingering on the way your shihakusho stretched across your bosom, the smart glint of your glasses when you’d discovered something, the smooth curve to your palms. At first, he chalked it up to mere curiosity. Your back must’ve hurt with the sizable weight of your chest; glasses were an unfortunate defect; your hands were far too delicate to be those of a dedicated scientist–you must have hardly worked in the labs.

Naturally, he found himself thinking of how he could improve on you. Modifications–surely, you would let him.

But soon he found his thoughts shifted from those of improvement, to that of your body. Your breasts, pliant and soft, brushing past him as you moved to grasp a plasma sample. His usual urge to avoid all physical contact entwined with a strange kind of longing: to tear at your shihakusho to grasp your skin in its entirety.

Night after night he’d spent with himself in hand, stroking incessantly, your marvel over his achievements fresh in mind.

“Taicho, you’re a genius!”

“The way you optimized the reactors was incredible, taicho. Very impressive.”

Yes, you peon. Revel in his intellect, the things he could teach you.

How would you take to his seed, he wondered? Did you, a lowly lab assistant, even deserve his attention?

Much less his carnal desire to shut up your incessant questions with acts so depraved it made him even wonder if they were physically possible?

Urahara wouldn’t know how to handle a protege like you. It was better that you were in Mayuri’s hands, so that he could train you, mold you like clay beneath his palms.

He cums over his fist with a howl, gritting his teeth at the hot lava flowing through his digits. He scowls at the mess it leaves behind, thick remnants of his rapture dripping onto the ground.

Time to make Akon clean it up.

–

Urahara’s gigai. A fine creation. The fact that you left yours lying around uninhabited on a mission in the Human World though? Careless. He thought he’d taught you better.

Mayuri was on his own kind of reconnaissance, of course, collecting samples of reishi when he found it lying inside the bedroom of some human. He scowled, approaching your gigai. He nudged it with a foot before scowling and crouching down. Did it contain your likeness? Exactly so?

It was with scientific curiosity that he began a hands-on examination.

Surely Urahara could do better work, he thought. The gigai’s lips were far too thin, her pallor too sickly. Mayuri, with a specific kind of scientific detachment, groped her breast. Based on his measurements, she was slightly flatter. He scoffed. Mayuri would have made a more accurate replica, he thought, frowning as he continued to squeeze your breast.

He wanted to perform a test. Just how much was this gigai in the likeness of you?

He removed his cock from his trousers, with a dim kind of awareness that he was already half-hard. Hm. Perhaps he was not so unaffected by Kisuke’s creation as he assumed, he thought

A hiss escaped his mouth as he gripped his painted cock, pumping it several times. This was all your fault. If you had just been a docile thing, let him experiment on you like he asked; if you hadn’t been such a spitfire thing, calling into question him being out of date with things, perhaps he wouldn’t need to resort to such demeaning acts like this.

Yes, this was all your fault.

You were the reason his hand was flying over his cock like he was some kind of pubescent oaf, intent on thinking only with his mind and what was the next hole to fill. He hated you, hated the way you made him uncannily aware of the physicality of his own body, of what he could do to you–

He ground his teeth together hard, the joints in his ear popping, as his grip encircled the head of his cock. His pleasure felt near bursting, his other hand clutching the edge of the table.

In lieu of punishing your soul, due to the new “anti-sexual harassment” policies that that damned Shunsui instated, the wicked thought occured to him: he should punish your gigai like this. Yes. It was the perfect kind of revenge.

Mayuri pinched a muscle in the jaw of your gigai that had your jaw staying open. Good. He slowly eased his cock inside, hissing at the gummy feel of your mouth.

Yes, he grunted, as he set up a steady pace, pistoning his hips into your mouth. This suited you. Pliant, obedient, quiet. Letting him tarnish you. He felt his balls clench at the thought of you bowing before him.

“Mayuri-sama,” you would plead, with that same kind of spark in your eye. “Please–experiment with me as you’d like!”

He smacked your chest, reveling in the jiggle. Well. Perhaps Kisuke got one thing right. His hand was like a vice on the softness of your gigai’s tit, squeezing hard enough to certainly leave a mark. Good, he thought. That way some remnant of his carnal moment would be left on you.

You deserved to feel pain to the point of pleasure, just as you had inflicted on him.

He thrust the entirety of his dick into your gigai’s mouth, hissing when the head of his cock nudged the back of your throat.

“You asinine fledgling,” he grunted. “How dare you–captivate me so. I should have your head on a pike outside my division, you harlot.”

He moved his hips back, before thrust hard into the inside of your cheek.

“I abhor you,” Mayuri hissed, his hips bucking into your mouth almost automatically, chasing the tight warmth of your throat. “I d-detest your ilk. I–I should have you t-transferred from my division.”

“You–absolute–swine–agh.”

He came down your throat with a shudder, grimacing as he felt his seed ooze out from your mouth, saw it spill from between your gigai’s lips. He wiped it off with your sleeve, before tucking himself back into his pants.

With a prickling sense of accomplishment, he realized he had left a smidge of purple paint between your lips. Heh.

He took a picture with his own device, a much superior version of Kisuke’s cellphone.

For his reference. In case he decided to further experiment on recreating you.

—

“Well well well, to what do I owe the pleasure, miss?”

You snorted, throwing Urahara a lofty glance.

“You know why I’m here, Kisuke.”

He gripped the rim of his hat, pursing his lips. “Are your attempts to seduce the crazy scientist going well?” 

You grimaced, shaking your head.

“You know how he is... he’d sooner dissect my corpse than take me up on my offer for dinner.” 

“Nah?” Urahara hums thoughtfully. “Well then… why don’t you try this?” he said, tossing you a vial. “Makes even the most rational man lose it.”

–

After your mini-detour, you returned to your gigai, and smacked your lips together immediately once you noticed something was wrong. Just what was this taste in your mouth? Salty and bitter….

Not to mention the paint smeared on your lips. You would have to talk to Kisuke about the kind of shenanigans your gigai got up to….

[criminal-sen]

Here's some commissions I made for @unohanadaydreams, they were an absolute blast to work on:3

Commissions are still open btw! More info here<3<3<3

[bleachbleachbleach]

Thanks for the tag on the Fanfiction Writer Meme, @berrymascarpone!

Blue: All past fandoms | Red: Bleach specifically

Notes: 1) Slightly inaccurate. I did not “had” a Livejournal, I continue to have one! <3 2) Dotted line because I don’t think that a couple paragraphs of Matsumoto having anonymous Rukongai sex counts as “smut content,” given its brevity relative to the rest of the work, but it did happen. 3) I have been part of one fandom with an extremely robust tradition of beta-reading, and have had two really stellar beta-reads, one of which offered advice I still think about to this day. I miss that! 4) Debating what is and isn’t a genre isn’t interesting to me; relatedly, acafandom as a whole is something I am very uninterested in. That’s not the way I want to engage with these texts. 5) I prefer researching during writing, not before! Story first, details or revisions in subsequent iterations. Though there are plenty of outside world things that inspire story without me actively seeking it out, which might count here as "research before"?

I will tag some of the Mayuris (no pressure)!: @criminal-sen @mayuris-basement-dweller @unohanadaydreams @fractoluminescence

Blank template below the cut:

[celebratebleach]

The BLEACH Anime Celebration has come to a close. Thank you so much to everyone who participated!

Below you will find all of the submissions made to the event, be sure to check them out if you haven't already!

Note: for those that didn't include a title, I just used the name of the prompt group you chose.

Day 1

You Talk by @silenthesia

Truth by @bleachbleachbleach

The Rain by @recurring-polynya

To Give You Shelter by @rays-of-fire-and-ice

Who's Gonna Save U Now? by @unohanadaydreams

The Rain by @dragonesszena

Day 2

Visiting the Sternritters by @silenthesia

New Looks by @reccuring-polynya

New Looks by @dragonesszena

Day 3

Time to Celebrate! by @dragonesszena

Drink hot chocolate to you sorrows by @silenthesia

Time to Celebrate by @recurring-polynya

More Like You by @unohanadaydreams

Girls' Night Out by @the-redheaded-pilot

For All that Was Lost by @rays-of-fire-and-ice

Day 4

Two years too early by @silenthesia

A Day Off by @dragonesszena

What He Fears Most by @rays-of-fire-and-ice

trepidation by @canariie

Day 5

Amongst the Tree Roots and Snow by @rays-of-fire-and-ice

The Anime is Back! by @reccuring-polynya

Like coming home by @silenthesia

Something Old, Something New by @dragonesszena

Bonus Day

Bonds by @bleachichihime