sweety sleepy care and love and fluff w/ kuchiki byakuya wc <800
After countless grueling hours spent in meetings and taking inventory of progress on repairs to the Seireitei, Byakuya was absolutely exhausted. It took every ounce of his remaining energy to make the journey from his office near the Squad 6 barracks back to his estate, but he moved quickly. His fellow captains were surprised that even after such a late night of work, Byakuya would still return home rather than sleep in the barracks. Some called him hoity-toity for it, but someone was waiting for him.
When he arrived home, sensing your spiritual pressure within, the muscles in Byakuya's shoulders finally relaxed. With each step he took, the stiff stature of a leader at work melted away little by little, washed away by the knowledge that you were there.
He found you in his bedroom, curled up on top of the blankets and wrapped in one of his own robes. You radiated peace, asleep with your glasses on and a forgotten book loose in one hand. Tired feet softly strode to the side of the bed where Byakuya knelt close to you and swept a tendril of hair off your face. He smiled to himself as he watched the unhurried rise and fall of your chest. Something deep in his chest beamed with adoration, with gratitude that you were right there.
Byakuya reached for your glasses and slowly removed them from your face. You stirred at the ghost-like sensation of his fingertips and you scrunched up your face before opening your eyes, immediately meeting Byakuya's with heavy lids.
"I am sorry, my love." He soothed your tired skin with the palm of his hand. "My duties kept me later than expected."
You leaned into Byakuya's hand, nuzzling into the rough skin. "No sorries please."
Byakuya chuckled, a warm and melodic sound that made your eyes flutter shut. "Alright."
For a moment he admired you quietly. This was not the first time Byakuya had come home to the sight of you snoozing like a cat in his bed, and every trace of his being willed it not to be the last. The reconstruction and healing needed following the war required very much of you both, and these nights were a balm to your souls.
You opened your eyes again, a look of tired determination washing over your features as you sat up and closed your book.
"Have you eaten?"
"I have," he said.
"Take a bath before you get in bed," you said quietly. "You'll feel better when you wake up."
He smiled again. "As you wish."
"Come here." You reached for his hair and ran lazy fingers through it, eventually reaching for the kenseikan atop his head.
It took everything in him not to close his eyes and doze off as you removed the silver pieces, massaging his scalp as you went. Byakuya leaned his head into your hand, sighing as you took such gentle care of him. Every touch of your fingers soothed an ache he hadn't noticed before. Even sitting up, Byakuya was on the edge of consciousness.
"The water is still hot," you said, softly waking him.
Byakuya couldn't remember getting up, and he couldn't remember washing or soaking in the bathtub, but still he emerged clean, warm, and heavy-lidded. You had drawn the blankets and dimmed the lights in the bedroom, turning the space into a cozy haven for the two of you to rest.
He climbed into bed wordlessly, pulling you close as his head met the pillow. You nuzzled closer still as your hand found his, draped around your waist.
"You already feel better," you whispered. "I can tell."
"Mmm," he started, "I cannot say it is from the bath."
You squeezed his hand. "I bet it is."
Byakuya sighed, too sleepy to disagree. "You are wearing my clothes."
"I took a bath before I remembered I didn't bring anything to sleep in."
A frequent occurrence of yours. Whether intentional or not, he didn't mind, but he felt a slight twinge of guilt as he pictured you ending an exhausting day of work, going all the way to your own home to grab supplies, and then travelling all the way here. He nudged the back of your head with his nose, breathing you in deep. It was a wonder you came here at all, only to fall asleep without him most nights.
"Next we are both available," he whispered. "We will bring your things here."
You melted into his embrace, muscles relaxing into full rest. "Okay."
He hadn't the mind to realize how easily you accepted his offer, but he did know that he would have you here in his bed every night for the next thousand years. Longer, even, if fate should allow it.
Ghost that's been lonely for a little bit too long... until you moved in.
It was subtle at first, the feeling of being watched, an occasional brush through your hair here, a slight touch of your skirt there... Sometimes when you showered you could swear you could even feel hands running down your body. There was a needy and perverse energy within your home; touch starved and ravenous. You kept dismissing the feeling as a draft or your imagination- until one night you woke up to the unmistakable feeling of a cock sliding into your heat. You barely had enough time to rip the covers off before it began pounding away at your already leaking cunt. There was nothing there between your hips, but your pussy said otherwise, stretching open and pulsing around the invisible member. All you could do was moan and squirm as your wrists were held down, sinking into the mattress as the bedframe creaked. The spirit was relentless, and hellbent on using you roughly until your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. He was pent up and needed you to feel every inch of it. You could feel the cold shots of cum spurting into you in a matter of minutes, sending shivers down your spine as chilled breaths beat against your flesh, but the spectre didn't slow until morning, stuffing you full and fucking you for hours nonstop. You were dragged into every position you could imagine, molded into his whims, until he disappeared sometime after you passed out. You woke up disheveled in a puddle of fluids to nothing but a silent house.
This then became a regular occurrence- one you looked forward to. You dumped your boyfriend and threw out your sex toys. You didn't need them anymore. And nowadays you rarely go out aside from necessary errands... you rarely even wear clothes in the house anymore now that you think about it. Walking around bare, wiggling your ass in hopes that your ghost might take the hint and come ravage you again like it does every night. And he does without fail, never missing the opportunity to bury his cock to the hilt inside of your needy holes.
It seems that the lonely ghost in your house isn't so lonely anymore ❤️
he couldn’t help it. he loaded your glass with sleeping pills— enough to cause a bad reaction, but he wasn’t concerned about tomorrow morning and the side effects. all he wanted was to make sure you’d stay sleeping when he came to your room tonight.
and sure enough when he walks in, you’re out cold. it’s like you knew he’d be there tonight, your limbs splayed out, head on the pillow and hair mussed from your rough collapse. he’s on you in an instant, fingers slipping into your waistband as he knees your legs apart and slots himself between your thighs.
you’re like a ragdoll. like a corpse. unmoving, limp in his arms, pliable under his touch. he maneuvers you to lie on your back, prone and legs spread wide to let him in. you must be having a wet dream, you’re already slick when he forces himself inside with a low groan. your muscles try to flex— try to push him out, but your chemical-flooded body only tenses and releases again, clenching around his thick shaft.
he fucks you rough and brutal, tiny whimpers and unconscious sounds knocked from your chest with every thrust. your eyes, closed and peaceful, dance behind your eyelids. he wonders what you’re dreaming about.
your head jostles violently on your neck as he fucks up into your squeezing cunt, his breathing heavy and thrusts staggering. your swollen pussy swallows every inch as he buries himself to the hilt and grunts as he fills you. when he finally pulls back, he smirks at your fat cunt leaking his white spend, dribbling down your ass.
leaning forward, he props your legs up on his shoulders, your body yielding to his prodding, and closes his lips around your gaping hole. your cunt clenches around his tongue as he works at your walls, licking every drop of his own seed out of your pocket. he moans a little as he feels your hips instinctively buck, his nose brushing your clit as he sucks harder, rutting his face into your pussy. your thighs shudder like they want to close around his head but your body stays limp, the only signs of life your rising chest and soft, sleepy whimpers.
he feels you cum with a hot spray down his throat, and he drinks that too, before licking you clean and sitting back up. he carefully slides your panties back on, and reapplies your blanket atop you, smiling in satisfaction at his inconspicuous handiwork. he leaves your room silently, and with any luck, you’d wake tomorrow and think all of this was just a dream.
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