Imagine That - Peepshow

Sort-of an imagines blog Scenarios - CLOSED // Headcanons - CLOSED

[imaginethat-peepshow]

I’m back! From my trip at least. Find me on Twitter @Peep_Speeks if you want to see my daily bullshit, and Ao3 for writing in the future. I’m gonna log off as part of the protest and may or may not log in again. I hope to pop up on pillowfort once they stabilize a little bit. It’s been an honor serving with you  -salute-

[imaginethat-peepshow]

Ok I’m boarding and may not have any internet for up to a week 😬 you kids be good!

[imaginethat-peepshow]

peep peep peep

Yeeeeesss? 🐥

[imaginethat-peepshow]

It’s nowhere near done, but here’s my Ao3 I also made an Imgur for my fanart and edits

I’m going to be travelling all week with slim to no chance of any internet access. So don’t panic if you don’t hear from me lol theoretically I’ll have some time when I get back to wrap everything up before judgement day. Keep the requests coming in the mean time, they really made my day yesterday :3

[imaginethat-peepshow]

So I just had what may be a terrible or a wonderful idea. Since I’ve been so bummed about all this censorship nonsense, I want to open up my inbox one last time before the end. I want something to look forward to when I log on other than post after post of why the censorBot is failing. So pretend that this is your last chance ever to request anything from me. Tell me everything you want to see me write or draw from now until the end of time. Yes, I’m asking specifically for drawing requests for the first time. Tell me which stories you want to see finished, new ones you want to see started, everything. I won’t promise that I’ll do everything, but it’ll give me a good backup of inspiration in case communication is slow when I go fully Ao3

[imaginethat-peepshow]

Hey, I just blasted through your whole Kenpachi tag so sorry about all the likes and reblogs from my sideblog cx I'm trying to archive all my fave stuff before I back-up blogs. It's a shame I found you right after all the tumblr mess started but I'll definitely follow to whaterever you go. Your writing is fantastic, you've got the characterizations down to a t honestly and I love it! I hope you keep doing what you do and find joy in it, you've got real skill~ thanks for sharing it =D

LMAO why would you apologize for likes and reblogs?? My ego thrives on that as much as the next person. Thank you so much for saying all of that, it really means a lot. Honestly I’m amazed that I’ve still been getting new followers and a decent amount of notes despite being unsearchable. I’m definitely going to move everything to Ao3, and maybe get a Twitter. Then maybe someday once Pillowfort stabilizes I’ll pop up there. I’ll post links maybe tomorrow?? It’s been slow going since I’ve been so busy at work T.T

[sexintheseireitei]

Hi me again lol I’ve just read the terms and conditions and you and the other bleach smut writers should be fine, although imaginethat-peepshow may have to remove their artwork just to be safe, after careful reading it looks like mostly artists will suffer from this, writers might actually be fine

Oh fuck yeah. I’m posting some filth tonight. 😎

[imaginethat-peepshow]

I’m... gonna remove my whole self to be safe. Like obviously I’m not gonna fly off and hit the delete button but I’m pretty fuckin pissed now. I already backed up my blog and I’ll let you guys know where I end up going instead.

I would tag #RIPtumblr but I’m invisible so no one will see it 🙃

[imaginethat-peepshow]

What the actual fuck tumblr, can I not even search within my own blog?? Is anyone else having this problem?

[imaginethat-peepshow]

Oww, the stage is all closed? I wanted something about Hanatarou with dom Yoruname (maybe pegging? I like your hardcore scenarios).

Ashjasjdfka yes, requests are closed right now but please come back when I open them up again I would totally do this. 

[imaginethat-peepshow]

Peeps you're amazing and drawing art for your fanfics is like a gift that the world didnt know it needed until now. You're one of the first blogs i followed when i joined the bleach fandom and I have a full time job now but i will always believe in you even if I'm not here as much ;-; i hope you survive the tumblrpocolypse

Omg thank you so much for this T.T I’m super proud of you for working hard, it’s ok if you’re busy. Time will tell if I stay on Tumblr or migrate elsewhere (I am working on my Ao3 in the background.) My theory is actually that a lot of these changes will stick around for the two week review period required to get back on the app store, then staff will relax some. We’ll see. 

[imaginethat-peepshow]

So yeah. I, like many nsfw imagines blogs, am now completely invisible to search on tumblr. I used to at least show up in character tags but that’s gone now too. Even my sfw posts, so changing that tag will change nothing. 

I’m so disappointed by all this. That content creators are being punished for staffs unwillingness to deal with this sites problems sooner. We’ve been essentially cut off at the knees. And while the surge of followers from @sexintheseireitei‘s masterlist has been heartening, I’m still having trouble finding the will to move forward on this site. Basically I now rely 100% on reblogs to spread my content to anyone but my (wonderful, beloved) followers. Reblogs that have always been rare for me. It didn’t bother me because I understand that not a lot of people can get away with having explicit content on their blogs. And I’m especially unwilling to ask that of people now that having such content increases their risk of being made invisible too. 

I’m considering making the blogs I follow visible to aid the efforts to find each other without search. But I’ll have to purge some personal blogs first. We’ll see. 

That said. I did get an Ao3, and will start uploading my work from here to there. I’ll provide a link once it’s respectable. Maybe I’ll join another website too, idk. Somehow I don’t think Ao3 has the networking capabilities we’ve enjoyed here. And being part of a community has been what’s kept me going, kept me writing for the past couple years. I hope we can all work together to find a solution and adapt to these new frustrating constraints. 

[sexintheseireitei]

Imagines Blogs Masterlist

A lot of imagines blogs have suddenly become invisible. To ensure we can all keep following each other and enjoying each other’s posts, please reblog, add your own imagines blog, your favourites, your friends, etc! You’ll probably find some new blogs to follow, too.

Bleach:

@shadowsnlace @bleachmymind @youjustgot-bamboozled @bleachhaven @buriedinbleach @imaginethat-peepshow @bleachfanficfanatic @bleachfantasy @starrkwhitecoyotes @chire-senbonimagines @blameitonthebleach @bleachfluffandfiction @beautiful-imaginess @visored-headcanons @incorrect-arrancars @bleach-imagine-hc @bleachedheadcanons

BNHA:

@delaware-lemme-smash @ineedaheroimagines @heroesarelife @i-might-write

One Piece:

@shipfueledbythirst

[imaginethat-peepshow]

Pls gimme some nsfw Mayuri, I need it (oh my, your blog is so cool, and your writing is soooo good )

Adasjkdhfaj Ok so, this comes from an ongoing joke amongst some of my friends that Mayuri has a collection of detachable/interchangeable dicks because when he Frankensteined himself, why wouldn’t he change that too? Anyway, since that’s where I started I hope you can understand how this went the way it did. 

“Master Mayuri…?” Yoruname leaned carefully through the doorframe to his office and spoke in a low voice. “Are you busy this evening?” His exasperated sigh was almost instant. 

“Yes. I am busy. I’m always busy. When will you learn?” He was bent over some new device, soldering circuits, and didn’t look up. 

“You’re right. Of course. But sometimes you’re busier than others.” She stepped slowly into the room. “Perhaps I should ask if you’re inundated. Are you overwhelmed? Besieged? Are you-”

“What do you want?” He cut her off. 

“Nothing that will take too much of your time, Master.” She placed her hands gently on his shoulders, curling her fingers to maximize this rare contact. 

“Oh… that.” He frowned. “You and your urges I swear.” He stood abruptly, shaking off her touch and marching for the door. She followed eagerly. 

“Really I indulge you far too much. I don’t understand why you won’t let me remove those wretched hormone-poisoning organs of yours. They’re a hindrance to your productivity and mine.” He carried on all the way down the hall to his secondary quarters; the small space he had converted for times when the formal captain’s quarters were too far to commute. 

The main area was a cluttered sitting room filled with journals, notebooks, files, and reference tomes. The second, smaller area was an eerily sterile sleeping area. Here there were no extraneous books or scrolls, no ornamentation or any kind, just a futon, a pair of precisely organized dressers, and a locked closet door. Mayuri yanked open a drawer and retrieved a glossy black dossier. He flipped it open and turned a few pages, glancing measuringly back and forth at Yoruname where she stood patiently to one side. After a moment he snapped it shut again and extended it to her. 

“Huh?” Her heart leapt at the gesture. 

“Pick one.” He snapped. 

“Are you sure?” She reached for it gingerly. 

“Yes, you’ve been exceptional in our experiments lately, barring these interruptions. Perhaps some more targeted stimulation will stave them off. Now pick one before I change my mind.” He gave it a shake. She took the deceptively light book and cradled it in one arm, carefully turning pages with her other hand. Mayuri’s extensive collection was displayed in vivid, archival quality. A plethora of shapes, sizes, lengths, and features to choose from. Some she recognized as those he had chosen for her in the past. Some looked familiar by their nature and intuitive design. Some were like nothing she’d ever seen. While she perused, Mayuri kicked aside the futon and unlocked the closet. From inside he rolled out the heavily modified examination table and other various essentials. Then he waited, his eyes fixed on her, for her choice. 

“Hmm…” She could feel him growing impatient by the second and there were many pages to go. It would be better to hunt for something she wanted rather than try to choose objectively. But what to look for? “Which… which is…” A thought made her muscles tighten with anxiety from her toes to her neck.“Which is your original, Master Mayuri?” 

“Hm?” He looked at her curiously. “You want that useless old thing? Fine.” He snatched the dossier from her and tossed it back in its drawer. “Assume the position.” He waved idly at the table while he returned to the closet.

As she undressed, her chest filled with a thrill she hadn’t felt since the first time he brought her here. The thin paper lining crinkled as she climbed on to the table and maneuvered one leg around the nondescript metal box bolted at the end. She obediently fastened her ankles into the stirrups and laid back to fasten the strap around her hips. Muffled clinks and clanks came from the closet as he searched, sprinkled with irritated muttering. Finally he emerged holding a glass container under one arm and an array of additional accouterments in the other and arranged them on the dresser. 

Now in his procedural mode, he didn’t speak. He stretched on a pair of gloves before fastening her wrists in their respective restraints. A flip of a switch and the vaguely cubic device between her knees whirred to life. It didn’t have the steady hum of most machines, but had a more cyclical rhythm, organic like a heartbeat. One of its main functions was to simulate circulation, after all. Mayuri removed the attachment from its container and secured it to the device, her view blocked entirely by his wide white sleeve. She chewed her lip, disappointed. She was so very curious. It was a trait he often encouraged in her, until it pointed to him. Then he got snippy and she learned not to pry. He would reveal to her what she earned. So she stared at the ceiling instead. Once wooden rafters now covered by metal and plastic in an effort to minimize dust interference. 

While the machine warmed up, bringing the dormant tissue of the attachment to equilibrium, he went about the other necessary preliminary tasks. First, he set up an I.V. drip, piercing skin of her arm in a place where she was least likely to bend or otherwise tear it out by accident. “Can’t have you shriveling when you shed all your fluids,” he’d say. This was also, of course, the vehicle with which he added whichever enhancement drugs he saw fit. There was some deliberation and clattering of small bottles while he decided the correct mixture. Sometimes he concocted something that would numb her whole body, only to slowly increase her sensitivity until just a breath of air against her skin could make her scream. Sometimes there was a paralytic agent paired with a stimulant so she was trapped in her thoughts and her screaming nerves. 

“I think you need to burn off some of this excess energy of yours, don’t you?” He asked rhetorically. “A high dose of this stimulant and some nerve enhancer should do the trick.” He drew the mixture into a syringe and injected it into the valve below the I.V. bag. There were no immediate effects, but there was plenty of time for them to kick in. 

Next he produced a pair of broad clamps. After giving each of her nipples a few preparatory squeezes between his gloved fingers, he attached the clamps to these sensitive nodes. Heat was already pooling between her legs in anticipation. This received some relief from his next addition; a small device that he referred to as the only good to come of Akon’s “amateur, depraved waste of resources” that was his side project. Every edge on the thing was rounded until the shape defied description and it had a pair of flexible wings protruding to hold it in place. Mayuri pinched the wings together in one hand and unceremoniously spread her lower lips with the other. He positioned it to fit snugly over her clit but didn’t activate it yet. 

Then he retrieved a bottle of lubricant from the drawer. This had no particular properties, as he argued that topical applications weren’t nearly as efficient as intravenous. He squeezed a generous amount on to two flattened fingers and, careful not to disrupt the little device he’d just installed, inserted them inside her. The synthetic gloves and synthetic lubricant slid smoothly between her muscles. He flexed and turned his fingers enough to be sure her inner walls were evenly coated and withdrew. The gloves came off with a series of snaps and he pulled on a fresh pair. 

Finally he returned his attention to the machine between her legs, which was now venting a small amount of warm air. A manual crank extended the driver arm slowly to its full extension. A few turns and she felt the blunt tip against her folds. It was hot, hotter than flesh would be. Mayuri never could get the device perfect on that regard. Or was it the drugs finally kicking in? Each turn pushed it further inside her, spreading and stretching her muscles. 

“Breathe.” He reminded her sharply. She sucked in a breath she didn’t realize she’d been denying herself. “Don’t make me put an oxygen mask on you.” 

“No, Master Mayuri.” She promised as it crested, sheathed completely inside her so she felt it burning all through her core. 

“I have some notes to review.” He explained, clicking the little button to turn on the device over her clit. It hummed with a steady, targeted vibration. “I’ll be in the next room. God knows I’ll be able to hear you.” He rolled his eyes, flipped the larger device on, and left. 

“Thank you… Master Mayuri.” She sighed as he went. 

“Yes, well. I had better hear you counting.” He sneered as he shut the door. 

The machine cycled with an elliptical motion, slowly at first, then getting faster. No doubt by remote controls in the other room. But it always moved with the same full and complete stroke, driving in far faster than it pulled back. Her grateful sighs continued, wordless, as the siege of stimuli mixed with the drugs now permeating her system. 

Her nerves were twice, three times as sensitive as normal. She was hyper aware of the restraints down to the stitching on the cuffs; of the clamps pinching her nipples down to the ribbing on the rubber. The vibrating on her clit seemed to get stronger with time, but that could have been the drugs too. Any numbing brought on by the pleasure was chased off by the magnifying power of the chemical nerve enhancer. So she felt every tiny vibration with every nerve in her body. 

Then there was the veritable engine between her legs, and the attached member with its many details to savor, even if she didn’t get to see it. The heightened sensitivity gave her a clear enough picture to imagine. She could feel the soft, smooth head, pulsing as it was with artificial blood. She could feel the distinct divet of the corona that led into the long, veiny landscape of the shaft. 

Only now did she let herself think of it as what it was. It was his. It was her Master Mayuri’s cock that he was allowing her to take inside her at such a speed and force. The upwelling of arousal at the thought of his true, original flesh filling her tipped her over the edge. Heat washed through her body as rapid contractions in her core battled the unyielding rhythms acting on her. The medical amplification to her nerves left her screaming out her pleasure, as it was impossible to settle on the other side and each wave set off by vibration or thrust drove her higher until she had no other release available but through her lungs. 

Rather than falling into the familiar lull of tired contentedness, she felt the full effect of Mayuri’s specially formulated stimulant. She felt electrically alive, wanting only more of the overpowering high he’d orchestrated for her. The second orgasm came fast, crashing over her like a wave in the surf before she’d broken for breath from the first. But she did remember to breathe, as he ordered. Great gasping breaths came between echoing cries of ecstasy. Fluid began to leak on to her thighs, tickling her hypersensitive skin. Still, she only wanted more. 

“I don’t hear any counting.” There was a sharp rap on the wall. She struggled to swallow, to find a moment calm enough to speak. 

“Three.” She cried. And then “four” when she came again. Five. Six. She didn’t dare lose count. She wanted to shout out more coherent things, but simply couldn’t make space between the carnal sounds wrung from her. She wanted to thank him for every one, to tell him how good his cock felt inside her, how lucky she felt. 

Around twelve her voice grew hoarse and not even her numbers came out clearly. The door opened with a snap and Mayuri came in looking bored and annoyed. He tugged on a pair of gloves and powered down both devices. The smaller one stopped immediately, leaving her clit feeling the ghosts of its consistent vibrations. The larger eased to a stop, resting at last where it began. Her inner walls continued to spasm around it until he wound the manual crank to back it out. 

“Thank you… Master Mayuri.” She croaked. 

“Silence.” He snapped. “Before you damage yourself.” The clamps, restraints, and I.V. were removed one by one. After such a cacophony, this relative silence in her amplified nerves registered as dull pain. He threw a heavy blanket over her. It felt icy cold, but she knew the substantial heat she was putting off wouldn’t last. He dug around in a lower drawer for something and came back with a narrow spray bottle. 

“Open your mouth.” He ordered. She obeyed despite the discomfort. The spray numbed her aching throat and did not encourage her to try to speak again. He checked her vitals with cool efficiency, taking her pulse at the wrist and prying one eye open to examine her pupil. “Giving you a depressant now will just make you vomit.” He declared. “You’ll just have to wait it out.” 

“Yes, Master Mayuri…” She whispered. 

“Very well.” He sighed and removed his gloves. “I have those notes to see to. Do not move until I retrieve you, understand?” She nodded and burrowed deeper under the blanket. “How spoiled you’ve become.” He muttered as he left. “I really am far too indulgent.” 

[imaginethat-peepshow]

More “when I am not myself” please!!!

You got it!

When I Am Not Myself - Bleach - Byakuya KuchikiChapter 9 - When I Am (Knot) Myself

The manor was so much in its usual mode that Sakiko went about her day almost without noticing. Rooms were cleaned, meals were served, and laundry was folded with hardly a thought. She carried a stack of Byakuya’s clothes to his room and bowed her entry, barely registering his presence. Crossing the room to the wardrobe, she put the items away, each neatly in its place. She was every bit as invisible as she was meant to be, until his voice pulled her dizzyingly back to consciousness.  

“… Sakiko?” He blinked and stared as if he’d just noticed her. 

“Yes, my Lord Byakuya?” She closed the wardrobe and turned toward him. 

“Forgive me, but… could I talk to you about something?” He looked utterly lost, his eyes glazed. “I’m afraid… I’m not sure I have anyone else to turn to in this matter.” 

“Is something wrong?” She tried not to let the rush of concern show on her face. 

“No. No… quite the contrary.” The smallest of smiles graced the corners of his mouth. “It seems… my sister is getting married.” 

“Lady Rukia?” She gasped happily. “That is good news. Has there been an announcement?” 

“No, not yet.” He turned his gaze back out the door. “She and her future husband asked for my permission just this morning.” 

“What happy news.” She was excited for them, but she knew Byakuya wasn’t the type to be so overjoyed he was unable to contain a secret, even one as grand as this. “Yet you seem… hesitant?” That wasn’t the word, but she couldn’t find one for the cloud hanging over him. 

“This will be the first wedding I have attended since my own…” His eyes narrowed by the slightest degree. 

“I see…” She felt as if she’d been punched in the chest. That cloud, it seemed, was Lady Hisana’s ghost haunting him once again. All the joy he must be feeling, shadowed by the continued pain of his loss. And maybe even… some guilt? Some unwanted feeling of selfishness? 

“You have been an invaluable confidante these past few years.” He continued heavily. “I suppose I hoped… you would have some more of that uncanny insight of yours.” 

“Oh…” Suddenly her throat got tight. “While it’s true my sister got married some time after I lost my husband, but… I can’t say how you’re going to feel… or how you should.” Their eyes met again and held in a long, meaningful stare.

Sakiko, ever one to bury her feelings, had thrown all of her attention into planning and perfecting her own sister’s wedding. It seemed Byakuya chose a similar coping mechanism. She didn’t see him much at all over the following weeks. He and Nobutsune were constantly running back and forth, holding meetings and writing letters in preparation for the upcoming ceremony. The only words they exchanged were his hurried instructions for her to retrieve his kuromontsuki from storage, despite him telling Nobutsune with the same breath to arrange from him to have new garments made. 

In this time, she had more opportunity to reflect than she wanted. It seemed that after this amount of time that felt at the same time like an eternity and an instant, they were approaching the plateau she had predicted. “Invaluable confidante” he called her. So they were as much secret friends as secret lovers. She would never get used to the anxiety caused by sneaking around, but that was probably for the best. It kept her from being careless and making a disastrous mistake. But at least she felt the amount of anxiety caused by Byakuya while they were behind closed doors was minimizing. 

Unsurprisingly, she was not among the few invited to attend the ceremony proper, though she had plenty of duties to perform throughout the day. Once everyone of importance was off to the shrine, she was one of a few left at the banquet hall, silently finalizing the details there. She was somewhat shocked to learn that Byakuya allowed the groom to choose what amounted to a bar for the banquet, but clearly the compromise was that the Kuchiki staff would still run the event. With such a reduced size of party and venue, there was little to do but straighten place settings. 

Her mind swam with no linear pattern amongst memories of her own wedding years ago, of her sisters, much more recent, of Byakuya and Hisana’s wedding, and thoughts of what this, Rukia’s wedding, must be like for him. It would be much harder for him, she thought. Rukia looked so like her late sister that seeing her in a wedding gown was sure to cause him grief to compete with his joy. What she didn’t know, could never know, was which won out in his heart. For her, for everyone, for the rest of his life he would wear that stoic mask. No matter how many years passed, no depth of confidence or comfort of physical intimacy would break it. 

This last train of thought didn’t make her particularly sad. In fact, she felt sort of braced by it; comforted that no matter how the world changed around them, her Lord Byakuya would remain the same.

The banquet was a lively affair. The bride and groom had several friends from the World of the Living who were quite noisy when they stood together. Sakiko travelled amongst the tables collecting dishes between the many courses, often untouched as the guests got up to socialize. She collected far more empty sake glasses and bottles as the night went on. The noise level rose, guests moved around more, and it got harder to keep up. They found increasingly more creative places to leave cups and she had to dart to and fro to keep everything looking to standard. 

As she passed behind the head table, Byakuya held up his hand passively for her attention. He was surrounded by people who all seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations. Not that it seemed to bother him. He wore a faint smile and the unmistakable flush of mild intoxication. She lowered her head for him to speak into her ear, and to all who saw them it was an unremarkable exchange. The master of the party requested something from a convenient server, as he had done several times throughout the night. But rather than ask her to pull out another bottle of the good sake, or replenish some popular dish on the snack table, he simply whispered

“Be in my bed when I get home tonight,” as if it were the same class of request. She nodded as if it were and continued with her work.

The usual rhythm of the manor was so disrupted by the wedding that she didn’t need to bother with pretense. The air through the whole house was quiet, content, if not tired. When asked by another unlucky late-shift servant in the hall, she simply said she “had to take care of a couple things” after the party, and carried on. 

It was unclear how much later Byakuya would be. She doubted he would go to any after party but couldn’t guess what other arrangements he would be working at behind the scenes. So she turned down the lights, lit a cone of incense, and prepared to rest. 

He slid the door open just as she was sliding off her clothes. She glanced at him over her shoulder and deliberately slowed her movements. He tilted his head admiringly as he watched, unwavering until she had folded the last of her clothes and set them aside. 

“Could you do that for me as well?” He opened his arms in gesture to the formal garment he was wearing. 

“Of course.” She smiled sweetly. Taking one side of the first layer in each hand, she slid it down his broad shoulders. In that slight lean forward, his lips found her temple in the softest whisper of a kiss. The layers came off one by one and she arranged them on the rack in a perfect crisp echo of when he wore them. Each one interrupted by his increasingly fervent kisses. On her brow, her cheek, her neck, and her shoulder. He was worse as she detangled and removed the kenseikan from his hair. Her fingertips brushed his skin as she pulled the last thin kimono down and his final kiss landed crooked across her lips. His hands found her hips, squeezing, digging his thumbs in beside her hipbones as he backed her toward the bed. 

Unfortunately he failed the timing, miscalculated somehow, and they fell. The overstuffed futon saved them from any damage, but they still landed hard. They knocked heads, knees, and the breath from their lungs. The puff of air sent the silks dancing.

“Forgive me.” Byakuya buried his face in the crook of her neck, disguising what may have been a laugh in his voice. “It seems we’ve fallen for each other after all.”

“You’re drunk.” She tried not to giggle. 

“Perhaps. A little. All the same I am less myself tonight than I have ever been.” He smiled enough to show a flash of his teeth. 

“… That isn’t true.” Her smiled faded. She tucked a strand of hair behind his ear in hopes of distracting him from the change. It didn’t work. He felt the chill as much as she did. 

“Ah. Yes.” He admitted. “I do like to pretend our first didn’t happen like that.” 

“Is that so?” She raised her eyebrows. “What is it you imagine instead?”

“I imagine… that I was captivated by your elegance, your dignity, your grace…” He kissed her collar, separating each word with a pluck of his lips against her skin, each one lower, deeper between her breasts. “That I seduced you into my arms slowly, despite our misgivings… in order fight off this loneliness we share.” He stopped just above her navel and looked up at her, his dark, dilated eyes searched hers. “I wish I could confess I had always seen you… tonight feels like the perfect night for such things.” There was a long silence in which her face showed her sympathy clearly, but she didn’t know what she could say. Their beginning was not ideal. Nothing about their arrangement was ideal. But she couldn’t say she wasn’t glad for it. He seemed to give up the train of thought, shifting his focus between her legs instead. His warm breath against her skin there made her legs and her senses half numb. 

“You didn’t see me until you needed to.” She combed her fingers into his hair. The last coherent sound she made was a sharp draw of breath as his tongue dipped in to her folds. It wasn’t fair to say that the sake made him sloppy, more like it made him lazy. Long, languid strokes of his tongue left her burning, squirming in want of more. But he hardly seemed to notice he was teasing, too busy savoring the taste of nectar from her soft, warm petals. He might have gone on all night if his jaw muscles hadn’t protested. 

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he raised himself up just enough to meet her gaze again. He crept back up to her level, his body sliding smoothly over hers. Then he dropped to his side, deftly maneuvering her until her back rested against his chest. His lower arm tucked under her neck, elevating her head so he could more comfortably kiss the soft skin below her ear and allowing his hand convenient access to her breast. His other hand worked in time with his knee, which pushed between her legs, opening her until she felt him, hard and quivering against her lower lips. 

“Hmm…” Byakuya nuzzled against her neck, kneaded her flesh in each hand, and pushed inside. The angle made her feel full even if he couldn’t fully sheath inside her, and the friction made her aching nerves sing. They made mutually contented noises as he rocked shallowly against her. His kisses grew more intense against the back of her neck, sending sparks up and down her spine.  

“Byakuya…” She restricted her voice to a whisper, clutched his wrist and directed it from her thigh to where she needed him more. Two fingers worked against her clit, mixing all the heat and tension into a quiet frenzy in her core. Her muscles tightened until her whole body was rigid but for the involuntary rocking her hips saw fit to follow. 

After the initial gasp of her release, she buried her face against his arm to stifle any accidental additions. Tremors cycled through her core, triggered again and again by his continued rhythm. He made such a pleased little moan she was sure he had followed. But it seemed she’d only lit some hidden store of energy in him. 

He kept pushing forward in his eagerness, rolling her from her side to her stomach until his weight was full over her back. The change lost them none of the sensation, in fact it provided far more leverage. Each thrust forced a small breath from her lungs that she tried to bury in the nearest pillow. His fingers ran through her hair, his palm pressing her head against his. 

“Sakiko… ah…” His voice trembled with restraint. “You deserve so much more… than I can give you… but please… let me keep trying…” Her mind was too clouded by bliss to fully understand, but still she managed to reply. 

“As long as you need me… I’m here…” My Lord Byakuya…

[imaginethat-peepshow]

I should start doing bedtime posts where I explain why I wasn’t writing this time.

Example: I couldn’t write last night because my husband and his friend were tanning a bear pelt in my bathtub.

[imaginethat-peepshow]

You don’t get to read the new Byakuya chapter I’m working on if you didn’t vote.

[imaginethat-peepshow]

Yeah so I changed my mind I’m not doing the Big Bang.