Byakuya did very few things without intention, but last night you made a sound when his teeth grazed your throat and his composure had simply… lapsed.
This morning he seen it in the light, a deep reddish-purple bloom against your skin. You reached for the high-collared kosode you usually wore as part of your uniform and his hand caught yours.
"Leave it," he said.
You looked at him, fingers still hovering over the fabric. "Byakuya, people are going to see."
He wasn't looking at you. He was looking at the mark. "Wear the one with the lower neckline."
You wore it to the division that morning and watched his reaction from the corner of your eye as you walked beside him through the main hall. Officers glanced at your throat and then immediately away, a few of them going red.
Byakuya's pace never changed, but when you passed Lieutenant Abarai, who noticed and choked on his tea, Byakuya's hand found the small of your back and stayed there.
"You're enjoying this," you murmured, keeping your eyes forward.
"I have no idea what you're referring to..." he said, his thumb tracing one slow proprietary circle against your spine.
At his office door, with three officers still in full view, he paused and adjusted the collar of your kosode, not to cover the mark but to frame it better, his fingertips lingering against the bruise.
"This suits you," he said, quiet enough that only you could hear. "I may need to be less careful in the future."
You exhaled. "Why do I get the feeling you're not joking when you say that?"
His mouth barely shifted, but his eyes said everything. Then he turned and walked into his office like he hadn't just branded you in front of his entire division.
Renji Abarai
You woke with three of them this time, a trail down the side of your neck like Renji had been mapping a path with his mouth, which was essentially what had happened.
You were standing in front of the mirror taking note of the damage when he appeared behind you, chin hooking over your shoulder, and whistled at his own handiwork.
"Damn," he said, sounding deeply impressed with himself. "The bottom one kinda looks like a butterfly."
You jabbed your elbow back into his ribs. "It does not."
He laughed and wrapped both arms around your middle, pulling your back against his chest, swaying you side to side like you were slow-dancing in the bathroom.
You reached for a scarf and his hand intercepted it, tossing it onto the futon behind you. "Nope. Absolutely not." He turned you around by the hips and examined your neck with the critical eye of an artist reviewing a canvas. "You're not covering those up. I worked hard on those."
You crossed your arms. "I have to report to the Eighth Division today, Renji. Captain Kyoraku is going to have a field day."
His grin only got bigger. "Good. Great. Perfect, actually. Tell him I said hello."
He pressed one more deliberate kiss right at the base of your throat, sucking lightly just long enough to deepen what was already there, then pulled back and admired the result.
"There. Now you're ready."
He caught your expression in the mirror which was half mortified, half grinning, and pressed his face into the crook of your neck, laughing against your skin. "You love it. Don't even try to front with me right now. You love it."
You bit your lip to keep from smiling. "You're the worst person I've ever met."
"Well, that hasn't made you get rid of me yet," he said, kissing the butterfly one more time.
Later that afternoon, an officer at the Eighth squinted at your neck and asked if you'd gotten hurt during training. Before you could answer, Renji--who just happened to be dropping off paperwork, called back over his shoulder without breaking stride, "That's my handiwork, actually!"
You were going to kill him.
Jushiro Ukitake
He found the mark before you did. You were lying with your head on his chest, half asleep in the late morning light, when his fingers drifted along your throat and paused.
"Oh," he said, very quietly, and something in his voice made you open your eyes.
He was staring at the curve of your neck, his thumb resting just beside a bruise that was already deepening in color. You reached up to touch it and he caught your hand, bringing it to his lips instead.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I'd been so--"
You cut him off. "Jushiro, don't you dare apologize."
He looked at you, surprised and you held his gaze. "I like it. I like that it's there."
His thumb traced the edge of the mark and his eyes went half-lidded in a way that told you the apology had been more reflex than regret.
Later that day you brought him tea wearing your usual kosode. You hadn't gone out of your way to show the mark off, but you hadn't hidden it either, and the neckline sat just low enough that when you leaned forward, there it was.
Kiyone spotted it first. A sharp inhale, then a hard elbow to Sentaro's ribs, followed by the crash of a dropped report stack.
"Captain Ukitake," Kiyone whispered, although not remotely quietly enough. "He looks like he's feeling better, don't you think?"
Sentaro caught on and broke into a grin. "Much better. His energy must really be coming back."
Kiyone clasped her hands together, eyes shining, and turned to you. "You're so good for him. Truly."
You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing. Ukitake's hand found yours under the tea tray, squeezing once.
"They're going to tell the entire division," he murmured, cheeks faintly pink.
"Probably," you said, making no effort to adjust your collar. "That okay with you?"
He looked at the mark, then at you, and his fingers came up to trace the edge of it.
"More than okay," he said quietly. "I just hope they don't overdo crediting you with my recovery."
You laughed, but from across the room, Kiyone wiped an actual tear. "She's saving our captain one night at a time."
Shunsui Kyoraku
Shunsui never just leave one mark. He left a constellation.
He spent half the night with his mouth on your throat, humming against your pulse, murmuring things that made your toes curl, and by morning you looked like you'd lost a fight with a very affectionate octopus.
You were examining them in the mirror when he appeared in the doorway, still half-dressed, hat absent, hair loose around his shoulders. He leaned against the frame and took a long, appreciative look.
"Now that," he said, "is a beautiful sight."
You turned and raised an eyebrow. "Shunsui, there's like eight of them."
"Eleven," he corrected, crossing the room and tilting your chin to inspect the tinier ones. "You miscounted the little ones."
You wrapped a bandage around your neck before heading to the Eighth Division, layering it carefully enough that it looked like a training injury rather than a night spent underneath your captain. It worked, mostly. A few officers gave you concerned glances while Nanao studied you over her glasses but said nothing.
Then midafternoon, Shunsui appeared beside your desk with a look of theatrical concern. "That dressing looks like it needs changing. Come on, let me take a look."
You stared at him. "It's fine."
"It could get infected," he said, absolutely shameless, already steering you by the elbow toward his office.
The door closed and he unwound the bandage slowly, each layer peeling away while his eyes stayed on your throat. The marks had deepened inro rich vivid blooms of violet and burgundy trailing from below your ear to your collarbone.
"Oh~" he breathed, tilting your head with one finger to trace the darkest one with his thumb. "These got prettier."
You swallowed. "The whole office thinks I'm injured."
He grinned, rewinding the bandage with infuriating tenderness, his knuckles brushing your skin with every pass. "Good, then I'll get to change your dressing again tomorrow."
He tucked the end in and kissed you right above the edge of it. "A thorough recovery takes time, sweetheart. Let's not rush it."
Kenpachi Zaraki
He didn't even realize he did it until you winced when your collar rubbed against your neck the next morning.
Kenpachi wasn't a man who kept track of the finer details of what his mouth did, he just knew that at some point last night he had his teeth on your throat and you grabbed his hair and pulled him closer, so he kept going.
Now you were sitting on the edge of the futon pressing your fingers to the spot gingerly, and he leaned over to look at it with the same casual interest he'd give a new scar after a good fight.
"Huh," he said. "That's a big one."
You shot him a look. "That's all you have to say?"
He shrugged, grinning. "Looks good on you."
You didn't bother covering it. There was no point, really, you'd learned early on that being with Kenpachi meant abandoning any pretense of subtlety about anything.
So you walked through the Eleventh Division with the mark on full display, a dark angry bruise just above your collarbone, and watched the reactions ripple out like a shockwave. Officers stared, then immediately looked away. A few of the younger ones went red. Yumichika raised one perfect eyebrow and said nothing, which meant he was saving his commentary for later.
Then Kenpachi fell into step beside you, and you watched him clock the way every single person in the corridor glanced at your neck and then at him.
His hand landed on the back of your neck, heavy and possessive, his thumb resting directly on the bruise.
You hissed. "Ow--Fuck--That's tender, you know."
"Yeah," he said, not moving his hand. "I know."
He steered you through the barracks like that, his palm covering the mark like he was signing his name over it, and when Ikkaku opened his mouth to comment, Kenpachi stared at him until he closed it.
"You could be a little less obvious," you muttered.
He looked down at you, thumb still pressing into the bruise just enough to make your breath catch. "Why?"
Ikkaku Madarame
The mark wasn't subtle. He left it right on the front of your throat, dead center, like he had been trying to make a point.
You discovered it in the morning when you caught your reflection in the blade of his zanpakutō, which was propped against the wall, and let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a laugh.
"Ikkaku."
He was doing push-ups on the floor behind you, shirtless and completely unbothered. "Yeah?"
You pointed at your throat. He looked up, looked at the mark, and his face split into a grin. "Nice."
"Nice?" You grabbed a scarf from the shelf and wound it around your neck before he could stop you. He watched from the floor, mid push-up, frowning.
"That's rude. You know that, right?"
You ignored him and tucked the ends in neatly, checking your reflection. Gone. Completely hidden. You felt his arms wrap around you from behind, his chin dropping onto your shoulder.
"You're really gonna do me like that?"
"I have dignity, Ikkaku."
"Overrated."
You made it all the way to training with the scarf intact, feeling pretty good about yourself, until Yumichika appeared at your side, looked at your neck, and tilted his head like a bird examining something mildly offensive.
"That scarf doesn't match your uniform," he said bluntly. "Take it off."
Your hand flew to your throat. "I'm cold today."
"It is not cold today. It is the middle of summer. Take it off or I will, because looking at that color combination is causing me physical pain."
You tightened the scarf and Yumichika reached over just as quickly and tugged one end loose with a single elegant pull, and the whole thing unraveled, and there it was. Dark and obvious.
Yumichika stared at it for exactly two seconds. Then he turned toward the training yard where Ikkaku was stretching and called out, "You are an animal and I am embarrassed to know you."
Ikkaku looked up, saw your bare neck, and pumped his fist in the air. "LET'S GO."
You buried your face in your hands. "I hate both of you."
Yumichika patted your shoulder. "The mark is ugly dear. He could have at least placed it somewhere aesthetic... You can cover it back up now."
From across the yard, Ikkaku shouted, "DON'T YOU DARE."
Yumichika Ayasegawa
The mark sat in the curve where your neck met your shoulder, placed exactly where the neckline of your kosode would frame it if you wore the one he liked.
You traced it with your fingers that morning and actually smiled before catching yourself.
Then you put on your high-collared kosode anyway, because walking around the Eleventh Division with a hickey felt like announcing something you weren't ready for. When you stepped out, Yumichika was waiting. His eyes went to your collar immediately and his mouth thinned.
"No," he said. Just that.
"No what?"
"That collar. You're not wearing that." He crossed to you and tugged the fabric down to expose the mark, studying it.
"I put that there on purpose. The angle, the placement, the way it sits against your skin tone. That is my best work and you covered it with the most unflattering neckline you own."
You felt your face heat. "Yumichika, it's a hickey, not a gallery piece."
"Everything I do is beautiful dear." He was already pulling out the kosode with the lower neckline. "Change. Now."
When you emerged wearing it, he cupped your jaw and tilted your head, his thumb grazing the bruise.
"There~ Now you look like someone who belongs to me."
He walked beside you through the division with his hand resting on the exact spot, fingers splayed to frame it. When Ikkaku squinted at your neck and opened his mouth, Yumichika didn't glance at him.
"Say one word and I'll tell everyone about that little kendo tornament in the world of the living."
Ikkaku's mouth snapped shut. You bit back a laugh.
"You're terrifying."
"Thank you," he said, and pressed his lips to your temple.
Mayuri Kurotsuchi
The mark Mayuri had left was not something you wanted to explain to Twelfth Division members who already looked at you with a mixture of confusion and pity for willingly sharing a bed with their captain.
You wrapped a bandage around your throat and practiced your "training accident" excuse in the mirror three times.
You'd nearly made it through the entire morning, before Mayuri summoned you to the lab.
He was bent over a microscope when you entered and didn't look up for thirty seconds. When he did, his golden eyes went straight to the bandage.
"What is that."
You touched your throat. "I hurt myself during--"
"You did not hurt yourself during anything. Remove it."
You unwound the bandage slowly and the mark came into view. It was vivid, almost chemical-looking and high on the side of your throat where his mouth had been last night.
He crossed to you, gripping your chin and turning your head. "Excellent pigmentation. The capillary disruption is more extensive than I estimated."
You stared at him. "You're not serious. This was part of an experiment?!"
"I am always serious. This is a perfect record of applied pressure and vascular response and you attempted to hide it under gauze like a common injury."
He pulled a small jar from his coat and you flinched.
"What is that?"
"A fixative. It will prevent the mark from fading for approximately seventy-two additional hours."
Your mouth fell open. "Mayuri, I am not letting you preserve a hickey like a lab sample."
"You are, because I have already applied it." His thumb had swiped across the bruise while holding your chin, and the skin tingled faintly.
You looked at him in disbelief. He looked back with zero remorse.
"You are mine. The data should reflect that. You may leave the bandage here. You will not be needing it."
Shuhei Hisagi
He was mortified at first. You watched it happen in real time--his eyes landing on the mark, his face cycling through recognition, pride, and immediate guilt in about two seconds.
"I'm sorry," he said, already reaching for your neck like he could rub it away. "I got carried away, I should've been more careful."
You caught his hand and kissed his knuckles. "Shuhei. Breathe. I bruise easy and I didn't stop you, which means I didn't want you to stop."
The guilt faded slowly, replaced by something cautious and searching as he studied the mark, a dark uneven bloom right below your jaw.
Your uniform covered it perfectly. High collar, no problems, and you made it through the entire day without a single incident. You honestly forgotten about it by evening, which was your mistake, because your evenings were spent drinking with Rangiku.
You were three cups in, warm and loose, and you tugged your collar open to cool down without thinking twice and Rangiku's eyes locked onto your neck like a heat-seeking missile.
You didn't even get a full breath in before she grabbed your chin, tilted your head, and announced to the entire table, "Oh my god!!!~ Hisagi marked you up girl!!!"
The bar went quiet. Kira choked on his drink. Ikkaku slammed his cup down and howled. You slapped her hand away, face on fire.
"Rangiku, I swear to--"
"Just look at it! That's not even subtle, someone was making a statement last night!~" She was beaming, absolutely delighted, already turning to find Hisagi in the crowd.
He was three seats down, frozen with his cup halfway to his mouth, the flush spreading so far past the 69 tattoo it looked like his whole face might combust.
"Hisagi!" Rangiku called, raising her cup. "I didn't know you had it in you!"
He set his drink down very carefully, stood up, walked over to you, and put his hand on the back of your neck. His voice was strained but steady.
"We're leaving."
You grabbed your cup and downed the rest. "Yep. Great idea."
Rangiku's laughter followed you both out the door, and halfway down the street you felt his grip loosen and heard him start laughing too, quiet and helpless, his forehead dropping against the top of your head.
"We're never going to hear the end of that."
You laced your fingers through his. "Nope. Never."
Izuru Kira
You woke up to the feeling of something cool and adhesive being pressed gently to your throat. Your eyes opened to find Izuru leaning over you, brow furrowed in concentration, carefully smoothing a bandage over the side of your neck.
There was a bruise underneath, you could feel the tenderness, and from the look on his face Izuru been awake long enough to find it, agonize over it, and devise a solution before you even stirred.
"Izuru," you murmured, voice thick with sleep. "What are you doing?"
He pressed the edge down with his thumb, not meeting your eyes. "It's visible. I don't want people to look at you differently because of something I did."
Your chest ached at his words and you reached up and covered his hand where it rested against the bandage, pressing his palm flat to your throat.
"Thank you," you said, and meant it.
He finally looked at you, surprised, like he'd been bracing for you to be upset with him. "You're not mad?"
"Mad? Izuru, you woke up before me just to make sure nobody would give me a hard time today. That's…" You squeezed his hand. "Was really thoughtful of you."
The tension in his shoulders released all at once and he exhaled. You pulled him down and kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth.
"You're a good man, you know that?"
His ears went pink. "I just didn't want anyone to--"
"I know. That's why it means so much."
You touched the edge of the bandage and smiled. "Keep being you, okay? I'll wear your little patch job with pride."
A quiet laugh escaped him and he pressed his lips to your forehead.
"I'll apply the next one better," he said. "That one folded a bit while I was putting it on."
a/n. heheheheh i felt way too devious while writing this because of the few peps I had in mind
Kisuke is unpredictable. One day, he surprises you with aphrodisiac chocolates, the next, he has you bound and edged until you’re crying, and on another, he acts like none of it happened — making love to you as if those other nights were just in your head, but the glint in his eyes and the way his rough touches feel at the end always give him away.
“Tsk, tsk, [Name]. Do you always have to be so feisty?”
His tongue moves skillfully, teasing, only to stop suddenly. He plays it cool, pressing soft kisses to your thighs before sinking his teeth in just enough to make your hips jolt.
“Kisuke, I swear—”
Before you can finish, his tongue is on you again, eating you so well that the words die in your throat. Your breath catches, your whole body tensing from the swelling intensity.
“Oh, God— Oh, God!”
He doesn’t stop until your rippling orgasm is all over his mouth, slipping down to his chin.
Aizen
You are not prepared for the torturous night ahead if aizen has decided to eat you until you break. He edges you mercilessly, over and over, until you can’t even beg anymore—your body too drained to move.
“Please, Aizen…Please—“
He starts slow, laying you down in your shared bed, making you cum from just his fingers and do it at least twice before he finally loses control. By the time he grips your thighs at the edge of the bed, that knowing, sinister smile is already on his lips.
“You’ve turned me into something… beastly, dear.”
And then he eats you out so deeply, that all you can see, all you can feel, is him.
“A-Aizen—I love you so much, I love you, I love you—”
You pant heavily, eyes squeezed shut. He pauses for just a moment, letting his fingers trace slow, taunting circles around your clit, drinking in your desperation.
He chuckles. “How sweet… your desperation makes me crave you even more.” He lives for this—for seeing you completely undone beneath him. And because you’ve been so obedient, he decides to reward you.
Grimmjow
Grimmjow has experience—too much experience—and it shows in the way he refuses to stop, dragging you into another orgasm just because he wants to. You’re already at your third when you try to push him away.
“P-please—Stop! No more…”
He barely even acknowledges you, his sharp grin never fading.
“Huh? What was that?” His pace never slows, his fingers gripping your thighs to keep you still. “You knew what you were getting into, woman.” He pushes you past your limits, your legs trembling violently from pleasure and exhaustion. Tears sting the corners of your eyes.
“Now scream for me, brat.” He growls, adding. “Let me enjoy myself.”
Kenpachi
Kenpachi is starved.
When you’re in his hands, you don’t know if you’ll make it out unscathed or if you even want to.
He usually chains your hands above your head, the cold metal bars of the bed frame biting into your skin, a blindfold wrapped securely around your eyes. Like this, he can feast on you in peace, drinking in every single one of your screams as if your pussy is a meal meant only for him.
“Music to my ears, darling. Now, show me what you’re made of.” His mouth is ruthless, his long tongue dragging over every inch of your pussy with an almost lazy ease. His teeth graze your clit just enough to send a sharp jolt through your entire body. " Don’t make me tell you again, woman."
He likes it when you try to squirm away. He loves it when you realize you can’t.
Shunsui
Shunsui might seem like a lazy lover, but the truth is, he could spend hours between your thighs if you let him.
No, scratch that. He does spend hours between your thighs, overstimulating you until your body is nothing but pure sensation. He makes it his mission to have you pussy riding his face at least a few times a week.
“Mmm—” Your voice is muffled, your body trembling as you grind against his mouth. You’re so close—so ridiculously close—but your body aching from the intensity of it all and the pent up tiredness.
“You’re doing perfect, sweetheart. Just one more, let go for me.” Hus big hands grip your thighs, guiding your movements, helping you find the perfect rhythm. You try to hold on, but it’s all too much. Your fingers clutch the headboard, your back arching as you cum in his mouth, shuddering against him. He hums in satisfaction, licking his lips. “Mhmm… just one more, darling. You know i love the way you taste.”
Byakuya x a fem reader who's usually a massive tease but gets super shy in the sheets? 👉👈
⋆˙⟡.ೃ࿔⋆ haha get pwnd fem reader
WARNINGS: bottom!reader, light choking
↳ REQUESTS OPEN
female reader
Byakuya Togami was not a man accustomed to being toyed with. As the heir to the Togami Empire, he was the one who pulled the strings, the one who dictated the terms of every engagement. Yet, you seemed to have made it your life’s mission to be the exception to his rule.
For months, you had navigated his icy demeanor with a playful, relentless confidence. You’d lean over his shoulder while he read in the library, your breath hot against his ear as you whispered suggestions that would make a lesser man flush. You’d brush your hand against his under the mahogany table during council meetings, your eyes gleaming with a challenge he couldn't quite ignore.
"You're remarkably bold for someone so beneath my station," Byakuya muttered, his eyes never leaving his book, though the slight tightening of his grip on the page betrayed him.
"And you're remarkably stiff for someone who claims to be a master of everything," you shot back, leaning in until your nose nearly touched his. "Don't tell me the great Byakuya Togami is afraid of a little fun?"
He finally looked at you, his blue eyes sharp behind his frames. "I don't play games, especially not ones as tedious as yours. If you want my attention so badly, stop acting like a child and take what you're looking for."
The challenge hung in the air, heavy and electric. It was the spark that finally led you here—to his private quarters, where the air smelled of expensive cologne and old books.
The moment the door clicked shut, the power dynamic shifted with a violent, silent grace. Byakuya didn't wait for a quip or a tease. He crossed the room, his long strides cutting the distance before you could even think of a clever line. His hand shot out, pinning your wrists against the doorframe, his towering frame casting a shadow that swallowed you whole.
"Where is that silver tongue now?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous silk.
The bravado you had worn like armor all day shattered. As his face dipped toward yours, the sharp, witty retort you’d prepared died in your throat. You looked up at him, your eyes wide and blinking, a soft, involuntary gasp escaping your lips.
"I—I..." you stuttered, your face heating up to a frantic crimson.
Byakuya paused, his brows knitting together in genuine surprise. The girl who had spent the last hour suggesting scandalous things in the hallway was suddenly trembling, her gaze darting everywhere but his eyes.
"Interesting," he mused, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "So the predator is actually a lamb in disguise."
He released your wrists, but only to slide his hand into your hair, tilting your head back. He led you to the bed, and for once, you followed without a single word of protest. When he pushed you back onto the silk sheets, you curled inward slightly, your hands clenching the duvet.
As he moved over you, shedding his blazer with practiced elegance, the silence of the room was filled only by the sound of your shallow, erratic breathing. Byakuya leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck. You let out a tiny, high-pitched whimper, burying your face in his shoulder to hide your burning cheeks.
"Look at me," he commanded.
You shook your head frantically, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. "No...it’s embarrassing."
"You spent all day telling me exactly what you wanted me to do to you. Now that I’m actually doing it, you lose your voice?" Byakuya let out a soft, dark chuckle that vibrated through your chest. He reached down, gently but firmly prying your hands away from your face.
"I’m just...it’s different when you’re actually...doing it," you whispered, the words barely audible.
"It’s much better when I’m doing it," he corrected, his tone dropping into a predatory growl.
He stripped away the last of your barriers with a clinical efficiency that soon turned into something much more primal. As he settled between your thighs, the cool air hit your skin, making you shiver. You tried to pull the covers over yourself, but he caught your hands, pinning them above your head.
"No hiding," he said, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your toes curl. "I want to see every flush, every shudder."
When he finally entered you, the sensation was overwhelming. You let out a strangled cry, your back arching off the bed. The tease was gone; in her place was someone raw and completely undone. You were a mess of soft moans and stuttered pleas, your composure completely forfeit to the rhythmic, demanding pace he set.
Byakuya watched you with a possessive fascination. He leaned down, whispering into your ear, echoing the very words you’d teased him with earlier in the library. Hearing them in his voice, in this context, sent a jolt of pure electricity through you.
"Is this what you wanted?" he rasped, his movements becoming faster, more urgent. "Is this the 'fun' you promised me?"
You couldn't answer. You could only sob his name, your eyes squeezed shut as you neared the edge. He didn't let you fall until he was right there with you, his own composure finally breaking as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body tensing with the force of his release.
Afterward, as the adrenaline faded into a heavy, warm lethargy, you tried to roll away, still overwhelmed by the vulnerability of it all. But Byakuya’s arm wound around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.
"Don't run off now," he murmured, his voice returning to its usual calm, though with a new edge of satisfaction. "I think I prefer this version of you. It’s far more...authentic."
"I’m never looking you in the eye again." You groaned into the pillow, your face still flushed.
"Oh, you will," Byakuya said, his fingers tracing a lazy line down your spine. "Because tomorrow, you'll start your little games again. And now I know exactly how to end them."
Warning: Contains NSFW, cursing, heavy heavy heavy angst.
Body reference for y/n : women figure
Author’s note: Hello, first post on this account. I used to be in the Obey Me fandom but I deleted the account along with all my best work huhu. Also I am multi-fandom. Bleach, Haikyuu and Obey me! Drop a follow if you want more content!
1. Kuchiki Byakuya
Of course the sexual relationship you both had is a secret. He’s the Head of the Kuchiki clan, the noblest of them all.
The first night when his restraint finally stripped away, his mouth crashed against yours with such precise, aching longing. His hands mapped your body dirtily dignified. It’s impossible to believe it’s casual. And it never stays just one time.
It’s maddening.
At night he caresses you like a husband, makes love to you like you’re his forever.
But when dawn breaks and you both return to duty, his eyes snap back to that cold, hated gaze and his tone turning sickeningly formal.
It’s as if last night never happened.
As if he didn’t just devour your mouth breathlessly, whispering “you’re the very reason I cannot stop this.”
Yet the moment it ends, he repeats it like a mantra: “This matter is casual. Do not mistake it for affection.” Over and over, after every sex. Like he’s reminding himself more than you.
Kuchiki Byakuya keeps you at arm’s length emotionally, even as his body betrays him night after night when he calls for you. You leave the Kuchiki Manor feeling so damn cherished… and so fucking invisible at the same time.
He will never admit. No, not even to himself…that he needs you far beyond casual.
…Or will he?
2. Kenpachi Zaraki
“You’re so crazy.” “That kind of guy would just toss you once he’s done.”
That’s what you heard from Rangiku, or maybe Lisa, every time you went out with them and mentioned how you and Kenpachi were still fuck buddies.
Yes, Kenpachi is brutal in bed that it makes you feel wanted in the rawest way.
His kisses always end in bites, on your lips or your skin. He fucks you like how he fight. Hard, powerful, never holding back. That cocky grin spreads across his face every time you claw his back or scream his name, babbling stupid things that will haunt you in the morning.
But what no one knows is how surprisingly soft he is in his own feral, animalistic way.
He may not clean you up, but he’ll toss you a towel. He’ll bring you your favourite drink without a word. You stay on his bed the entire night, clinging to his body while he lets you. He never explains why. And it doesn’t stop at the bed.
He’d drags you to eat with him in the 11th Division barracks, arm slung around you as he watches his squad train, talking to you like it’s nothing…
Like he’s not afraid to show everyone you’re the one he chose for his bed.
Yet you mistranslates it as love.
When you finally say something about it, all he gives you is:
“We’re just fuckin’ around.”
“I ain’t lookin’ for love.”
It fucks with you.
Because the way he said it looks like EVERYTHING he’d done, every time he showed you off, suddenly meaningless. Just casual.
When the truth settles in cold, you stop visiting his barracks.
Sex fades from once a day..
To once a week…
To once a month…
To never.
Kenpachi definitely notices. Would he regret it, though?
3. Kensei Muguruma
This gruff, no-nonsense captain’s mask of discipline is as unbreakable as his Hollow mask.
He approaches your secret sexual relationship like it has strict rules. Less violent than Kenpachi, but every thrust carries meaning.
He eats you out on his desk, looking up at you as if he’s swallowing more than just your juices…as if he’s also swallowing your writhing face too.
He pins you to the office couch, growling your name.
“fuck…” like it slipped out as a confession.
Every time you pass out, he cleans you thoroughly. No one, not even you, knows if he lingers, staring at your sleeping face, or if the way he touches you has slowly changed, like he wants more than a fuck buddy.
If you survived his rounds, he’s the one pulling you close, rubbing soft circles on your arms, letting you trace the scars on his abs. Muttering that he doesn’t do hookups often.
His vulnerability leaks more and more after sex, especially when you’re lying next to him.
Eventually, when you ask for clarity because lately sex with him feels like so much more, especially with how extra jealous he gets when you mention another guy carelessly, he stares down at you, rough and guarded.
“Don’t you ever mistake this for more than just casual.”
“I don’t do relationships. It’s messy.”
But all you can repeat, voice breaking, is:
“But did you love me?” over and over… because he can’t answer.
“If I knew you’d expect more, I would never have fucked you,” he snaps.
Your mouth slams shut. The tension boils, then simmers into ice as the room goes cold when you walk away.
Ever since, he only sees you from afar, living your life while you avoid him at all costs. Kensei has a terrible habit of saying things he doesn’t mean the second his anger kicks in.
Will he ever try to make it right?
4. Shunsui Kyoraku
This smoothest motherfucker doesn’t even realise how big a deal it is to you. His annoying charm works one night… and then every night after, wooing you so effortlessly. His lips have probably tasted thousands before you, but when he first puts his mouth on you, it’s like he’s known you for centuries. As if this exact style of kiss was made only for you, not the others. He drags sex out slow, whispering “I don’t want to lose you yet,” groping your breasts, playing with your nipples like your body is better than anything that’s ever existed. The way he compliments you while fucking achingly deep, saying no one has ever felt like you, makes you feel like you’re his first.
This bastard shows up at your barracks with flowers and that cocky grin, saying he misses you. Sends Nanao to give you gifts: “Captain said something repulsive I refuse to tell you” and you laugh until your sides hurt. Charming old man who never goes out of style.
Then one unfortunate night, you cuddle into him after sex and murmur, “I could do this forever.” Shunsui chuckles softly, exhaling. “Ah yes… but this is all just a fun time, darling.” You swear you felt real love in every touch, every tease but how can he treat it so casually?
You never argue when he says it. He just kisses you in that way that shuts you up. So instead you stop showing up. You reject every gift.
Maybe every night now, he drinks a little heavier, raising his cup to no one, murmuring “to y/n” into the empty air.
5. Urahara Kisuke
The king of mixed signals.
He holds you like he never wants to be exiled from your life. Sex with him is always full of surprises. Toys he created just for you, lingerie he tailored himself only to rip it off with his teeth. Every thrust, his eyes stay locked on yours, moaning like he’s in love, cupping your face, brushing tears from your cheeks when you’re overstimulated (which is often, because he gets off to your pleasure).
Out of bed, he makes you feel like the only real person breathing while everyone else just exists. He’ll say loudly, “Oh please! I don’t have a favourite! Now go train, Kurosaki-san,” while his eyes flick to you with that smirk,
As if whispering “you’re my favourite.”
He always knows exactly how you like your tea. Texts you dumb memes that make you think you’re special in his life.
Until you finally ask,
“What are we?”
And all he says is “Two people having fun. No attachments.”
You call him out on every “not-casual” thing like the way he poured his guilt out to you after sex and it always ended in a passionate kiss that derailed the whole “casual” thing.
The Urahara Shop echoes with your confrontation… then falls deafeningly silent when you leave.
You never visit anymore. The shop feels hellishly quiet. Everyone knows what Urahara feels for you is more than casual but he carries too much remorse already.
He’s terrified you’ll become the next person he loses if he lets you in any deeper.
So go…stay away as long as you want.
He’ll keep making two cups of tea… and drinking one alone, no matter how far time stretches.
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A/N: The quality might not be very consistent half way through I really stuggled on who to write but was dead set on 29 chats....It's also hard for me to limit myself to one pic for one character.
pls don’t read this if you don’t like porn links know that the characters are up to age meaning they are either adults or teen ages 18-19 and in order for links to work you have to be signed in or twitter if a video no longer works it must have been taken down
byakuya is super in denial about his crush on you! deep down, he knows that he feels different about you – he's not stupid after all – but he refuses to recognize what makes you so special to him!
he's a lot nicer to you than with others! he never seems to look down on you, treats you like an equal and actually has nice things to say about you!
he often praises you, especially for your intelligence! looks are so superficial and something you can't control, but you can control what's in your head! and you've got a lot in that pretty head of yours…
of course, people pick up on the fact that byakuya is a lot nicer to you! especially if he compliments you, people either give him a look or outright tease him for it!
teasing from others might get him to say a mean thing to you from time to time, but he always apologizes for it once you two are alone – in his own way, at least!
“you're smart enough to know i didn't mean what i said to you back there. i just didn't want to give hagakure the satisfaction of calling me out on something, that's all.”
byakuya might always seem calm and collected around you, but inside, he's panicking at times! you might catch his eyes widen if someone teases him or his cheek blush at a compliment from you!
he's always quick to adjust his glasses, look the other way or find any other way to hide the feelings written on his face from you!
