mean older men who pounds into your wet sore pussy from behind while they hold you firmly against their rough, calloused chest by the throat. whispering dirty nothings into your ear and humiliating you, while they increase their pace, making you almost pass out in their arms. of course their big, veiny hand travels down to your sore clit abusing it even more while they thrust deeper and rougher.
,,Gonna fill you up my lil cumslut until you dripping and leaking everywhere.‘‘
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
Wc: 776 words
Tw: Sexual Content, Suggestive Language, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Emotional Vulnerability or Shyness
Summary: When it comes to waking up hard next to their partner, the Bleach men each react in ways that perfectly reflect their personalities
A/n: MORE CHARACTERS
Aizen Sōsuke
Control is everything—even when he's hard. Aizen wakes up hard, but you wouldn’t know unless you felt the shift in his hips or the subtle tightening of his arm around your waist. He rarely lets lust dictate his actions—unless you stir against him, soft skin brushing his arousal. Then you might hear a low voice near your ear:
“Is this how you plan to wake me every morning?”
If you're in the mood, he'll gladly take advantage—slow, intimate, dominant, whispering praise and commands. If not, he’ll calmly excuse himself, fix the issue in the shower, and return like nothing happened, lips brushing your forehead.
Hirako Shinji
Flustered but horny—and doesn't bother hiding it. Shinji usually wakes up stretching like a cat, but when he feels the situation, he groans dramatically.
“Great… now what am I supposed to do with this?”
If you're still sleeping, he might try to shift away and cool off. But if you're awake and give him any kind of smile or attention, he’s already moving over you. He’s all about lazy, morning-after teasing, muttering lewd things with sleep-heavy eyes while grinding into you. And if you turn him down, he pouts—but not for long.
Urahara Kisuke
Awkward, bashful, and silently desperate. Kisuke wakes up tenting the sheets and immediately panics internally. He’s the type to stay still, hoping you don’t notice. If you do—and tease him? Expect a red face, a nervous chuckle, and a quick,
“W-Well, it’s perfectly natural in the morning, you know…”
If you offer to help, his mask drops and his hands suddenly find your hips, voice husky with desire. Once he gets going, he’s more focused and intense than you'd expect.
Kurotsuchi Mayuri
Utterly clinical…until he isn't. Mayuri doesn’t get embarrassed. He’ll wake up hard and acknowledge it like a biological event:
“Hmph. Hormonal spike during REM. Fascinating.”
Unless you're already touching him or expressing interest, he’ll go to the lab and take care of it like it’s routine maintenance. But if you're playful or curious, he’ll raise a brow, smirk, and say something disturbing-hot like:
“Let’s conduct an experiment. Let’s see how long it takes for you to milk me dry.”
Surprisingly intense and vocal, especially if you engage with him early in the day.
Kurosaki Ichigo
Embarrassed but deeply touch-starved. Ichigo always tries to ignore it. If he wakes up with morning wood and you’re curled up against him? His face goes red instantly. He’ll pull away slightly, hoping to not poke you. But if you notice and say something, he groans:
“Don’t talk about it—it’s not like I can control it…”
If you reach for him, he melts—sweet, gentle, and eager, giving you sleepy kisses and holding you like he needs you to breathe. He may start slow, but he finishes strong, and his aftercare is unmatched.
Kyouraku Shunsui
Smirky, sleepy, and ready to use it. Shunsui wakes up rock hard and cuddling you close—no shame, just sleepy contentment. If you wiggle or press back into him, he chuckles low in his throat.
“Mmm…someone’s being naughty this morning.”
He’s always ready to take his time, lazy thrusts and languid kisses, hands sliding over your skin under the covers. If you’re not in the mood? No problem. He’ll take care of himself in the bathroom…loudly enough that you hear.
Ukitake Jūshirō
Gentle restraint with smoldering need. Ukitake rarely lets himself give in immediately. If he wakes with morning wood, he’ll breathe deep and focus on calming himself, not wanting to disturb your sleep. But if you stir or touch him lovingly, his breath will hitch.
“Are you sure, love? It’s early…”
Once you give him the go-ahead, he becomes incredibly soft-spoken but deeply sensual—kisses trailing your skin, slow rocking hips, and murmured endearments as he worships you beneath the sunrise.
Hitsugaya Tōshirō (Aged Up)
Still easily flustered, but assertive when pushed. Even grown, Tōshirō gets quietly annoyed at waking up like that—especially if you're sleeping on him and he’s trying not to be indecent. He’ll sigh, shift, and try to distract himself. But if you whisper something teasing or trail a finger down his stomach, his icy control shatters.
“...You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
He may start shy, but his restraint burns hot underneath. He’ll push you onto your back and bury his need in you before you can blink—voice low and gruff, movements urgent and focused.
Pairing: Shinji, Rose, Jushiro, Kenpachi, Shunsui, Byakuya, and Mayuri x s/o.
Summary: Headcanons of how Shinji, Rose, Jushiro, Kenpachi, Shunsui, Byakuya, and Mayuri would react to s/o smacking their ass.
Request: Good afternoon! I love reading your work, it brings a smile to my face! If it's okay can i request short, fluff/silly headcanons of how the captains (Shinji, Rose, Ukitake, Kenpachi, Kyoraku, Byakuya, and Mayuri) would react to their s/o playfully smacking them on their butt? Thank you <3
A/n: HiIIII, Aww I'm so glad that you love my workkk! Of course, please enjoy! What ones were you favvv? My fav are Rose and Byakuya Also the photo of Byakuya is making me feral, pls send in requests for that sexy man <3
Content: Sfw, mention of ass, a tad suggestive.
Shinji:
Once your hand connects with his ass, he def looks back at you with a sly smirk on his face and a certain gleam in his eyes.
Shinji lowkey likes it and has no problem admitting that to you.
Honestly, he might ask you to do it again with such a serious tone that makes you laugh until your face hurts.
I'm sorry, he's just a dork you know?
Shinji, of course needs to get his lick back, so he'll wait a few days until you're off your guard.
"Now, if you didn't think I was going to get your naughty ass back, you were wrong," Shinji whispers into your ear, lips brushing along your earlobe, before raising his hand and well...you know the rest ;)
Rose:
You quietly follow behind him and make your move, a loud slap sound echoing throughout your shared room.
Rose stops in his tracks and glances at you from behind his shoulder, blonde hair gently swaying.
At first, he's got a dead pan on his face before his lips start to curl up into a grin and he breaks out into a loud rumbly, chuckle.
"You're funny, y/n," he comments, eyes crinkling at the sides as he grabs onto your arm, pulling you into his arms and squeezing you.
Rose loves the little loving, playful moments with you and would never complain about a tiny smack.
Jushiro:
Once Jushiro realizes that you just slapped his ass, it takes his mind a minute to react.
His eyes are wide and he turns around, his white hair following behind him with a fluid motion.
Then his eyes crinkle at the sides and he lets out the cutest fit of laughter your ears have ever heard.
The happiness on this man's face is indescribable as you watch with a smile on your face.
He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in closer, the sides of your bodies pressing together as he moves slyly.
"You're cute, y/n," he hums out, snaking his other arm around your backside and giving your butt a gentle smack and squeeze.
You let out a huff of amusement and shake your head.
Kenpachi:
I feel sorry for you bc slapping this man's ass is a bad decision.
He slowly turns towards you, fists clench and smoke practically hissing out of his ears.
You gulp, starting to sink in fear and regret of your decision.
Kenpachi moves fast, grabbing your wrists and pinning them behind your back and pressing you up against a wall.
You let out a yelp as Kenpachi's hard hand meets your ass and it stings a bit.
"You're lucky I like you, woman," he growls out, refraining from smacking your ass again and harder, although he's totally tempted to.
Shunsui:
He's got a smirk on his face when your hand connects to his ass and he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, before biting it.
"Y/n, my little flower petal. Do you need something?" he cocks an eyebrow, the smirk never disappearing off his face.
"Nope," you reply with a sly smile on your face.
He hums and slowly walks over to you, arms snaking around your waist and pulling you to his chest.
Your fingers play with the dark hairs on his chest and his dark eyes are filled with playfulness.
Shunsui huffs out and reaches out, giving your ass a playful squeeze and winking at you.
That damn crafty smirk never leaves his face as he takes in the moment and enjoys it to the fullest extent, hoping you smack his ass again one day.
Byakuya:
You bite down on your bottom lip in excitement as Byakuya rounds the corner and leap, hand smacking his ass.
A scoff falls from Byakuya's lips as he quickly turns around, glaring at you harshly.
You gulp, knowing that this maybe was not the best decision to play a light joke on Byakuya.
The silence fills the room before Byakuya grabs onto your wrist and yanks you towards him.
You let out a sound of surprise as you're suddenly bent over Byakuya's knee and he delivers a rough, but playfully smack to your bottom.
Your jaw drops open and Byakuya wears a smirk on his face.
Luckily, for Byakuya, since you are bent over his knee, you cannot see the happy expression across his face.
He pulls you back up onto your feet, wearing his usual stoic expression.
"We shall not speak of this manner again," he clear his throat, before leaving the room and you behind shocked.
Mayuri:
Luckily when you smack Mayuri's ass, he comes to the realization that he likes you just enough to not turn you into one of his experiments.
He'll let out a cackle that sends a chill down your spine as he turns around and faces you.
Mayuri honestly liked it, but not enough for you to do often.
"Really, y/n?" his voice is mischievous and sinister as he closes in the distance between the two of you.
He'll grab your jaw and lift your face up towards him. (please clench your cheeks at this moment, who knows what is going to happen)
"Sorry," you shrug your shoulders, batting your eyelashes at him with innocence.
He chuckles and shakes his head, impure thoughts clouding his mind.
You'll never know when Mayuri is going to strike, but just know one day...he'll get his payback.
