#ukitake

[yargoelster]

old man

[ukitakeswife]

Summer Rain

Written for @soulsocietyevents Summer Extravaganza.

Prompt: Summer Rain

Warnings: MDNI, mature content, nudity, fingering, PIV sex.

Summary: A heavy downpour is the perfect excuse to leave your clothes at the door, right?

Pairing: Ukitake x Fem! Reader

Note: This is my first time writing for an event so I hope you all like it!

“Don’t rush now!”

Ukitake places a hand on your waist to stagger your pace, but also to keep you close. The umbrella he’d brought along for your stroll did little to shield you both from the rain, but you found that you didn’t mind it much.

Heavy summer rains like this, where the drops were warm, and eased the earth into releasing that sweet smell of wet soil was one of your favorite things. Not to mention the romance of it all, clinging to your beloved’s sleeve, his scent mixing with the rain as you both try your best to stay under the umbrella. A breeze picks up by the time you make it to your quarter’s courtyard, fat raindrops dotting the surface of the koi pond, and you lean closer to Ukitake for warmth, his skin slick and his clothes sopping. 

Once inside the house, Ukitake closes the umbrella and leaves it on the porch before sliding the door closed with a sigh of relief. Both of you are dripping, a small puddle of water forming on the wooden floor of your living room. Ukitake tsks as he looks at you, nurturing instincts kicking in.

“You’re soaking wet, my dear,” he remarks as he appraises you. “Were you trying to stay under the umbrella at all?”

“I keep telling you we need a bigger one.” You reply gaily, though your teeth are chattering from the chill of your clothes. Ukitake frowns. 

“Let me get a towel.”

He’s about to walk into the kitchen when you grab his sleeve. “You’re going to get water everywhere,” you point out, and he hums thoughtfully. 

“Hmm…You have a point. So what do you propose we do about that?” 

Such simple words, but when spoken by him in that deep, low purr, your body becomes alert, suddenly aware of his every move. His hand reaches out to sweep away some of the wet hair sticking to your shoulder, and you shiver, not entirely from the cold. 

“Well?” He prompts, closing the distance between you both, his arms snaking around your waist to draw you against him. A crimson blush immediately stains your face, elevating when he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You breathe sharply at the contact, helpless to move away from him. 

“My dear, if the plan is to stand there while you continue to redden like a rose, then I fear we’ll both catch a cold.” Ukitake teases you, amused by how easily you melt into his arms, at the little sigh that falls from your lips as he holds you close. 

His words have the desired effect, and you’re goaded into action, despite feeling like all your extremities had grown clumsy. Feeling like your fingers were wrapped up in mittens, you reach to push hair away from his pale face, trying not to shy away from the intensity in his green eyes as he observes you, waiting keenly for your next move. 

“I suppose…we could…discard our clothes here…” you murmur, and his eyes darken at the thought. 

“Is that so? Are there no other solutions?” His mouth starts to string little kisses along the column of your neck, licking raindrops off your skin, which has started to heat up from his touch. Delightful, liquidy pulls begin in your stomach as he kisses you, and you clear your throat before speaking. 

“None,” you affirm, earning you a look of approval. 

“The lady has deemed it so. Perhaps she should take the initiative?”

You glance up and he’s smirking at you, eyebrows raised in a gesture of playful challenge. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you train your eyes on the V where the fabric of his yukata meets, hiding the creamy skin and lean muscles you knew lay beneath. Forcing your hands to remain steady, you grasp the obi and pull, watching it loosen inch by tantalizing inch as it falls apart.

Ukitake watches with patience, but his blood is running hot at the act, something he considers to be incredibly intimate and deeply personal.  Coupled with the obvious hesitation and bashfulness, he couldn’t help but wonder how a man was supposed to stay calm when presented with such temptation. 

With a soft slither, the obi falls to the floor, and his yukata begins to separate at the waist. You carefully hook your fingertips into the separation and pull it apart, heartbeat quickening as you see the thin layers he wore underneath it, tiptoeing to push the wet garment off his broad shoulders. It lands with a splat, and you work on the under-layers, not daring to look at his face and stumble.

When all that’s left is his underwear, your hands stall, and Ukitake takes them in his, bringing them to his hands for a kiss. 

“I think that’s enough hmm?” He pulls away and pads into the kitchen to retrieve a fresh towel, and you’re left standing, fully clothed, and unable to suppress the rising heat in your belly. He had done nothing this entire time, letting you go at your own pace, but the whole thing has made you hot and flushed, your mind filled with wicked possibilities. 

You nearly jump when you hear his return, eyes unable to stop themselves from taking in his graceful form, tall and leanly muscled, his long, white hair flowing down his back. Was this man really yours?

His eyes glitter playfully, but there’s a tender quality to them that makes you yearn; to feel his hands on your breasts, between your legs, with his mouth everywhere else. 

“Turn around,” he says softly, and when you do, he begins to dry your pretty locks, the touch electrifying. Was he doing this on purpose? Was he aware of your body’s reaction to him? How it tingled with every innocent movement, how it trembled each time his naked body brushed against the back of your clothes? You glance down and feel a zing of embarrassment as you see how your nipples have pebbled, not entirely from the cold. He would have seen them, of course. Grateful that your back is turned, you fix your gaze on the little bonsai pots sitting on the window ledge, rushes of heat running through you as Ukitake works on the lower lengths of your hair. 

“You must be cold, my love,” he says softly, and your heart jolts. He’s waiting for an answer, and you know it. You pivot slowly in his arms until you’re facing him, and take the towel from his hands.

“Maybe we should switch roles?” You ask and start to work on his scalp. A chuckle emanates deep within his chest, and you gather the courage to move closer.

“I think that’s a fantastic idea.” As you busy yourself with his hair, his hands start to undress you. You tremble as each layer is removed, until you stand in nothing but your panties. His warm palms rest at your waist, the slight touch tickling you as you focus on his hair. You’re close enough to press a kiss to his neck, but Ukitake is quicker with his actions.

 You resist the urge to jump as he cups your breasts, giving the soft flesh a little squeeze, groaning as he feels your perked nipples against his palms. You let the towel rest around his shoulders, and finally give in, letting your mouth find his.

The quiet pitter-patter of raindrops can be heard on the roof as you kiss, tasting tea on his lips, his scent comforting and familiar as you angle your head, sampling as much of him as possible. His thumbs start to work little circles on the very tips of your hardened nipples, you little whimpers of pleasure swallowed by his mouth. When his tongue brushes yours, you draw closer to him, arms tightening around his neck.

“Was this the plan all along?” he asks pokingly as you break apart, your nipples aching with desire. Chuckling at the hazy look in your eyes, Ukitake scoops you up in his arms and carries you into the bedroom. The bed was warm and inviting, a pleasant change from the chill of the living room. His body covers yours, as he places open-mouthed kisses on your neck and between your breasts before finally drawing one of your swollen nipples into his mouth.

You cry out at the soft pull, at the drag of his teeth on the sensitive bud as his hand dips underneath your panties, a pleased noise of approval escaping his throat when he finds you wet and swollen. 

You’re helpless, unwilling to move away, legs spreading unashamedly as his thumb starts to circle your clit, while two of his long, slim fingers enter your sex. The stretch has your mind melting, becoming a pool of lust as he strokes that sensitive area of nerves deep within, as his thumb stimulates you on the outside. Your nipples are covered with his saliva as he takes turns alternating between them, your sweet cries of passionate struggle music to his ears.

When you orgasm, it feels like the world was falling apart, nothing existing except your own pleasure and Ukitake’s skilled fingers as he pulls every last drop of delight from your body. Panting, you lie comfortably on the bed, snuggling into his body as Ukitake licks his fingers clean, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

The sight of you on his bed like this, naked and wanting, skin glowing from your post orgasmic glow was only turning him on even more; he wants to mark you, wreck you, until he’s all you know. As he strips off his underwear, you can’t help but stare at him, at the length and veins, even though you’d seen it all before. Your core flutters impatiently at the sight, and your mind wants to beg for him to fill you, to claim you primally. 

Tenderly, Ukitake kisses your forehead and cheeks, watching your face for signs of hesitation, but you only grip his shoulders in response, and he shivers as he starts pushing into you. Your body stretches around him, mewling and leaving half moon impressions in his back as your nails bite into him. The soft, velvety heat of your sex was addictive, enveloping his cock as he sheathes himself to the hilt. You moan and wrap your legs around him invitingly, and that’s all he needs before he starts to thrust, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. 

Outside, the rain continues to pound, its intensity almost mimicking the storm of desires filling the bedroom. The wind whistles as your breaths combine, your bodies becoming greedy as you make love. And it continues to rain long after Ukitake finishes, groaning as thick ropes of his seed fill your pulsing cunt. 

[owarinaki]

Bleach TYBW Special Ending

[jushiros-harbor]

I need a prototype... 🙏🏻

[under-white-pine-trees]

Just a little too warm...

You notice it the moment you return.

Captain Ukitake is usually composed even in the smallest things - his posture, his careful movements, the quiet grace that clings to him like a second haori. But tonight, there’s a softness to him that you have not yet seen before. A faint warmth in his cheeks. A looseness to the way he’s leaning back in his seat as if the world has finally stopped asking him to hold himself so firmly.

The lantern light catches his eyes when he looks up. And he smiles.

Not exactly the polite, gentle smile he gives everyone - this one is slower, more private. Like it belongs only to you.

"…My love," he says, voice warm as freshly made tea. He doesn’t rise immediately. Instead he watches you approach as though he’s savoring the sight. His gaze follows you in a way that makes your heart tighten - not with worry, but with that familiar ache of being cherished just by a glance itself.

You set your things down carefully and step a little closer. "Jushiro?"

His lashes flutter when he blinks, just a bit too slowly.

"Mhm." He nods once, then again, as if confirming something important to himself. "I’m here."

There’s a tiny pause before he adds quickly like he knows exactly what you’re thinking:

"…I’m not ill," - his voice is soft before it turns into quiet laugh - it's small and breathy, almost shy. "Not at all. I… may simply be a little warm."

Warm. That’s a very deliberate choice of word. It makes you smile even before you can stop yourself.

"You drank alcohol" you say gently.

"I did." His eyes crinkle, pleased—almost proud of himself, which is so rare it feels like being shown a secret. "Only a little. The others were… insistent."

You lean closer, studying him. The flush on his cheeks is faint, but real. His shoulders are relaxed. His voice isn’t slurred, not truly - but it glides softer than usual, and there’s a sweetness in it.

He’s tipsy.

The thought makes your chest flutter with fondness, especially together with that adorable flush on his cheeks.

Jushiro tilts his head slightly, studying your expression. "You’re smiling."

“I’m allowed,” you tease gently.

His smile deepens. "Mm. I suppose you are."

You move closer to him, and he immediately reaches for you. His fingers find your hand first, sliding into your palm, then weaving between your fingers like he’s always belonged there. Like he can’t imagine being without it.

His touch is warmer than usual, you feel it immediatly as his skin touches yours.

"Jushiro," you murmur, softer now, “how are you feeling?”

He considers that like it’s a real question. A serious one at that. His eyes drift down to your joined hands before he responds - his lips curling upwards in quiet contentment.

"…Happy," he admits.

The words are so simple, so honest, that it steals a breath from you and maybe even a heartbeat.

Then he glances up again, gaze shining with unguarded affection.

"And perhaps… a little bold," he adds, like a confession. Like he expects you to scold him.

But you don’t.

Instead, you lift his hand and place a kiss to his knuckles.

Jushiro freezes at that.

Not in fear - never that. Just startled, the way someone gets startled when they’re given something they secretly wanted but never dared to request. His breath catches in his throat, and the faint blush across his cheeks deepens, spreading like watercolor.

"My-" he starts, then stops. His voice comes out softer when he tries again. "My dear…"

You lean closer. "Yes?"

He shakes his head once as if he can’t find the correct words. The tipsiness makes him honest, but it also makes him lose some of his careful composure.

"I…" He laughs again, quiet and helpless. "You shouldn’t look at me like that."

"Like what?"

He doesn’t answer immediately. He studies your face, eyes so gentle it almost hurts.

"…Like I’m something precious," he whispers almost shyly.

Your heart squeezes. How can he even doubt that? It is beyond your beliefs.

You lift your free hand and cup his cheek. He leans into it instantly like he’s been waiting for it all night. His lashes flutter again, and when you thumb over the corner of his cheekbone, he lets out the smallest sound of contentment.

Then, without thinking too hard, you say it:

"You are precious. The most precious to me."

Jushiro's eyes widen slightly.

Then his lips part, and he exhales - as if something inside him has finally been given permission to soften.

"…Ah," he breathes, his voice trembles faintly. "That isn’t fair."

You smile. "But it’s true."

His expression flickers at your words with disbelief and tenderness so big it doesn’t know where to go. He looks away for half a second, but your hand keeps him gently anchored, palm to his cheek, reassuringly warm.

"I…" he tries again.

And then, in the most devastatingly tipsy way possible, he blurts out with a soft breath:

"…I love you."

Your breath catches and Jushiro blinks at you as if he’s suddenly realized what he’s done. His ears go pink. His cheeks burn a little brighter.

"Oh." He swallows. "I - I always do, of course, but… I said it too directly, didn’t I?"

You don’t answer with words.

You answer by leaning forward and kissing him.

It’s a gentle kiss. Warm. Unhurried. But it still destroys him nontheless.

He makes the tiniest startled sound - then melts, hand rising to your waist with reverent care. His fingers curl there as if he’s afraid this is only a dream. His breath trembles through his nose, and when you deepen the kiss just slightly, he makes a helpless little laugh into your mouth like he’s overwhelmed by happiness.

When you pull back, his lips remain parted, breathing a little uneven.

"…My love," he whispers again, his voice warm like honey.

When you kiss him again his cheeks go even redder, and he gives up pretending that any of his composure remained. He leans into you this time, as if he can’t get close enough. His arms come around you more fully - careful, always careful - but tight enough that you can feel how much he wants to hold onto you.

You kiss his cheek.

Then his nose.

Then the corner of his mouth again.

And Jushiro laughs, brighter this time. It’s so sweet it almost makes you ache. He tries to speak - still tries to protest - but every time he opens his mouth, you steal it with another kiss.

"W-wait," he breathes, voice shaking with delighted surrender. "Please - I... "

You kiss him again and then he finally gives up completely, hiding his face against your shoulder as if you’ve overwhelmed his entire being.

His arms tighten around you.

You feel his breath warm against your neck as he exhales.

"…That's far too much," he mumbles, smiling into your skin. "You’re far too much."

"Liar," you whisper, pressing a kiss to his temple.

He laughs again, so soft and bright.

"…Perhaps," he admits.

Then his voice becomes lower but grows tender in that way that turns your bones into water. Yet still he hesitates, breath warm against your shoulder, as if he’s gathering courage for something that shouldn’t be so hard to ask for.

"…May I…" he murmurs tenderly.

"…May I keep you here a little longer?"

You stroke his hair gently and answer with a smile. "I’m not going anywhere"

And Jushiro goes still before he breathes out something that sounds dangerously close to relief. Like those words reached a part of him that’s been quietly afraid for far too long.

"…Thank you," he whispers.

You feel him nuzzle into your shoulder, shamelessly affectionate now that the tipsiness has loosened his restraint. He presses another soft kiss to your collarbone through your clothes- clumsy only because he’s so warm, so openly fond.

"…You’re beautiful," he murmurs.

You tilt your head. "Jushiro…"

"I mean it." His voice is earnest, almost stubborn. "I must be a little intoxicated, because I can’t stop thinking it out loud."

You laugh softly.

He lifts his head just enough to look at you again, his gaze shining, cheeks still flushed.

"…Am I embarrassing?" he asks quietly, genuinely concerned.

You cup his face again, thumbs brushing his cheeks, and smile so softly it should be illegal.

"No," you murmur. "You’re adorable... an adorable sweet man."

Jushiro blinks.

Then his eyes widen in slow-motion horror.

"…Oh no," he whispers.

"What?"

He swallows, cheeks burning. "…If you call me that, I may not survive the evening."

You snort, and he laughs too - warm, open, bright. It’s such a beautiful sound that you kiss him again just to hear it once more.

And when he melts against you, still smiling, still flushed, still too soft to protect himself from love -

Then you realize this is your favorite kind of intoxication.

Not sake.

Not celebration.

Just Jushiro... warm and unguarded, letting himself be adored.

-

This is how i imagine our white haired captain being tipsy. Please read and repost if you can imagine it too. 🥰

[a-lyoshka]

:(

[celticcat17]

“Now come on you two…make out for me…”