Starring: Ryuken Ishida x f!reader; Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x f!reader; Byakuya Kuchiki x f!reader; Shunsui Kyoraku x f!reader; brief and implied mention to Uryu Ishida, Kanae Katagiri, Ichigo Kurosaki, Kisuke Urahara;
Warnings: nsfw, fluff, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, age gaps (especially in Ryuken and Shunsui’s parts, but the reader is above the legal age of 21), manhandling, praise kink, degradation, spanking, rough sex, bondage, marking the partner, hair pulling, edging, dirty talk, choking, feeding alcohol through kisses, breeding kink;
Plot: Who was he? A man, your man, a gentleman, the incarnation of “touch her and you die”, of “she deserves the world”, of “I would tear myself apart to make her happy, to keep her safe”. However, if someone heard the profanities he hissed in your ear, when he was buried deep into you, or idly watched the way he massacred your body only to build you back up later and publicly, you were not sure they were going to agree he loved you that much. But he did.
You had not anticipated a rainstorm in the middle of July. The movie had just ended and the audience was searching for shelter from the sudden downpour, crowding at the exit. A bold couple in a hurry dashed down the muddy road, heedless of the dirt caking on their shoes and the hems of their trousers. You, on the other hand, were scrutinizing the busy street in search for Ryuken. You were standing on the sidewalk, below the awning supposed to shield you and twenty other people from the deluge. You shuddered, when some droplets of cool water splattered over your naked forearms, reminding you of never trusting a sunny day ever again. Not to mention you had opted for a brand new pair of black Jimmy Choo, seven inches of class and a gift from Dr. Ishida himself. You could not contemplate the idea of ruining them.
Now, though, you were genuinely surprised when Ryuken settled his hand on the small of your back, grey eyes transfixed on the flooding water making you stall on the sidewalk, and leaned down to whisper a command to you “Stay right where you are”.
You opened your mouth to protest, the moment he departed to fetch the car, only to realise he was not going to desist. You figured he wanted to minimize damage. Parking the vehicle closer to the theatre was the only thing he could do to help you out of that situation. Even such a kind gesture, though, flattered you. Ryuken was not close to be the extrovert kind of man who publicly displayed his feelings for you. He was the kind of man that stood by your side, made it loud and clear that you were taken, but rarely indulged into affectionate gestures. You wondered how it felt for him to go that far for you. Everyone stared at him, the moment he jogged off in the rain for you.
Lost in your thoughts, you had not even realised his car was parked right in the middle of the road, until he got out of it and circled the vehicle to open the car door for you. You bit your lower lip, knowing damn well you had to cross the turbid stream generated by the deadly combination of the downpour and the uneven road surface. Taking a deep breath, you tried to take the first step out of the crowd. Only for Ryuken to stop you.
“Hold on” he said, looking at you squarely, before bending down to slide his arm down your thighs and sweep you off of your feet. The gasp leaving your mouth was imperceptible, but the way your hands clutched the fabric of his jacket to anchor yourself to him spoke volumes. This was new.
Where was the descreet man meticulously, obsessively hiding his feelings for you behind a mastered poker face? But you knew better than goading him into pouring his heart out for you, when he had dozens of eyes goggling at him and the way he marched to his car briskly, straight as a line, precise like the surgeon he was, holding his woman bridal-style in his arms. You nuzzled your face delicately in the crook of his neck, a small smile gracing your lips, a blush blooming on your face.
“I love you” you murmured and you could swear his grip on your body intensified.
He had been the perfect incarnation of the Prince Charming. A few hours later, however, he had turned in the main villain of your story. Metaphorically speaking, naturally. His calloused fingers threaded through your hair, yanking you up against his chest, whilst the other hand was buried between your quivering thighs. You were both knelt on the bed, his larger frame almost enveloping you. Your knuckles had turned white for your iron grip on the headboard. Teary eyes, heaving chest, your body jerked when he pinched your throbbing clitoris for the umpteenth time that night.
You had lost the count of how many times he had brought you to the edge, before pausing and reeling at the sight of your desperate face, stained in mascara lines drawing black lines on your cheeks.
“Ryuken, please, I can’t do this anymore” you breathed out, catching a glimpse of his stormy eyes in your peripheral. Your body was exhausted, but you ached for a mindblowing release. Specifically, a bonebreaking release that only Ryuken had ever made you experience.
He plunged his fingers into your weeping hole, collecting the arousal coating your slippery folds “I wonder why I deliberately push my limits for you, to see you happy, only to desire nothing more than wrecking you like a filthy harlot undeserving of love” he ranted, before pulling his digits out again and pushing your head onto the pillow, roughly, yet careful not to hurt you for real. Goosebumps raised on your skin, lips parting to let a pathetic whine erupt from your throat.
Ryuken pumped his shaft a few times, lolling his head back in bliss, before removing his glasses in frustration with his free hand and discarding them carelessly on the bed. You wished you could see his face all scrunched up, when he finally pushed the head of his cock past your folds and made sure to bury himself into you to the hilt. The air seemed to have been knocked out of your lungs, when your walls clamped down on his shaft, the perception of the veins dragging against your inner parts making your cry out in overstimulation.
“Ryuken—” you hiccuped, fists clenching on the pillow to support yourself, when he pulled out and slammed himself back into your sappy entrance.
He grunted, fingertips bruising your hipbones, his clutch possessive and unyielding. The perfect balance between pleasure and pain, the touch of a man, not an inexperienced boy. He had loved before and he surely knew how to love you now.
He groaned, a low sound rambling from somewhere deep in his chest, as he thrusted into you with renovated vigor, fueled by the primal need to keep you close to him, to leave his scent of you, to stain your insides with his semen.
“Do you love me?” he asked you, his voice raspy, as he enclosed the back of your neck with his hand, pinning you down, pressing your cheek further into the puffy pillow below your head. Your toes curled, a strangled moan leaving your lips, swollen by the previous kisses you shared on your way to the bedroom.
“You are doing amazing. — he praised you, his pelvis repeatedly smacking against the back of your thighs — Could I finish inside? Would you love for me to give you a child?”.
It came to you as an unexpected request, especially since Ryuken was already a father. However, how could you deny yourself the pleasure of connecting your bodies so intimately, of granting his wish to become a parent again with you?
“Fill me up” you agreed, wanton in your voice, as you pushed your ass back against him to meet his thrusts. In a matter of seconds, the doctor behind you lost the last shred of self-control left in him and you layed down, spent, with a pool of pearly cum oozing out of your abused core.
Dating a Captain of the Gotei 13 was hard. If you were the older sister of the man who had saved the world, it was almost impossible not to do it without feeling the pressure of the entire Soul Society passing judgment on you. If the Captain you were sharing your heart with was a member of the Kuchiki clan it inevitably meant migraines and days spent in escaping the flashing lights of the paparazzi pestering you anywhere you went.
You had no idea for how long you had been trying to avoid them that day. All you knew was that you were supposed to meet up with Byakuya at the Seinkaimon, but for some reason you had not found him waiting for you there. Welcoming you to the Soul Society there were dozens of shinigami working for the Seireitei Bulletin, instead. Suppressing your reiatsu had been useless. The impudent questions thrown at your face, along with the sound of their cameras taking pictures of you, made your head spin and you flash-stepped away from them as soon as you could.
Running through the mazy, intricate streets of the Soul Society, hoping to reach the gates of the Sixth Division, was your only option. Too bad those journalists wannabe knew how to navigate those roads better than you did and you often ended up bumping into one of them. Reaching your destination was nearly impossible. You were not the type to scream for help, especially for such trivial reasons you could perfectly handle yourself. However, you had the impression something was off today and the anxiety was preventing you from thinking straight. Out of breath, you slumped down against the wall of a blind alley, breath uneven, slightly dishevelled and, definitely, lost.
“Miss, stop running! — someone piped out, their footsteps approaching you quickly, but you had no strength to look up at them — O my Gosh, look at you! You are so pale, weak, are maybe sick? Is this the reason why Captain Kuchiki left his manor early in the morning to visit the Captain Commander? To take some days off to look after you?”.
At this point, the young shinigami standing a few feet away from you, scribbling down only God knew what on his small notebook, was downright assuming things. You knew you should have denied everything, chased him away, fought back for some privacy. However, you were not in the right state of mind to argue and your body was in need of some rest. You just panted, screwed your eyes shut, hoping he was going to drop the topic and leave you alone. But he did not stop talking. At least, not until the air was knocked out of your lungs by a familiar reiatsu shielding you from that stranger.
You did not need to peer up to the massive man standing in front of you to check who it was. White cape, black silky hair swaying around a sharp visage, the Captain of the Sixth Division impassibly stared down at the now terrified shinigami tiring you out.
“I can assure you she is perfectly fine. — Byakuya said, piercing blue eyes pinning the lanky man on the spot — On the other hand, you will need someone to look after you, once I am done with you”.
He never lost his composure. Not even in moments like this, in which he seemed a minute away from tearing that prick apart limb from limb. Your shoulders slacked, as the young shinigami bowed down and flash-stepped out of your sight, leaving you two alone in the desolate street. A comforting silence blanketed the area, as Byakuya turned around and offered you his hand.
“I apologise for having troubled you. I thought I would have made it in time to pick you up at the Seinkaimon” he admitted, baritone voice coating you whole in a warm cocoon of your boyfriend’s love language: acts of service.
“I’m fine, really! Don’t blame yourself, Byakuya. You did not send them after me” you fretted, gladly grabbing his hand and pushing yourself back on your feet.
He studied your face, reverently caressing the back of your hand with his thumb “No, but I feel responsible for your safety. I should prevent inconveniences like that to occur. I won’t deny I am altogether considering sending someone after them”.
You gaped, shaking your head “Wait, no! That is not necessary! You have sufficiently flexed your shiny armor by protecting me. Trust me, your presence alone scares people off” you nervously chortled, before Byakuya tugged you closer to him, until your hips connected. You felt his muscles tense underneath his shihakusho. You suppressed a soft gasp, as his hands cupped your face and he impudently brushed his lips against yours, not capturing them in a kiss but aurely setting you ablaze.
And was he not indulging you on his futon hours later, when he had you whining his name in a mating press? Your slick drenched the insides of your thighs, along with his pelvis. You almost felt ashamed of the mess you were making. A mere glance at the trail of dark, trimmed hair, glistening, trailing from his navel to his cock was enough to make you look away. But Byakuya had no intention to break the intense eye-contact he was stucking you in.
His hand reached down, roughly grabbing you by your chin and turning your head back to him “What do I have to do to make you understand how deeply devoted to you I am?”.
When he plunged his length back into you with a fluid motion, you moaned again. Your chest raised and fell rhythmically, your breasts jiggling with each thrust into you he made. You were a sight to behold.
“N-Nothing! You made it loud and clear, Bya— Ngh!”.
Oh, dear Lord, he loved the way your face scrunched up in bliss, when he hit certain sweet spot within you. Your toes curled, your walls tightened around him. Byakuya grunted “Maybe I know what to do” he inhaled sharply, stormy eyes clouded over in lust and mischief. He was plotting something. You knew him and that look on his face, the way a knot formed between his eyebrows and he harshly bit down on his lower lip until it cracked.
“I will give those bottom-dwellers something to talk about for months and, luckily, something that will keep them away from you for months. — Byakuya groaned, cock furiously bullying you, until he accidentally hit your cervix and you squealed out in a pained moan — I am going to stuff you full tonight. My semen will fertilize your womb, darling. Pictures of your creamy hole are going to be sent— Goddamn!”.
A throaty moan rang in your ears, your teary eyes driving him nuts. He had lost his restraints. Byakuya Kuchiki, a nobleman, the Captain who never cussed, was unable to be impertubable when it came down to you. Cupping your cheeks in his hands, Byakuya kissed you. Your tongues wrestled, as you reached your orgasms. When he pulled out of you, he was panting, the bulbous head of his cock teasing your sappy entrance, sharp eyes watching in glee his seed leaking out of you.
Yes, there he was. Byakuya Kuchiki, the proud Captain, your man.
How did you find yourself all dolled up in a flowery kimono, hair meticulously plaited and gathered in a chignon adorned by a silver hairpin? Blame Shunsui Kyoraku for that. Running through the Dangai dressed up like that had been challenging, but there was nearly nothing you would have not done to please him. Now you were looking for him through the stalls, hoping to recognise his familiar face among the jubilant crowd of shinigamis.
As soon as your eyes landed on a wooden plate reciting ‘bar’ you knew exactly he was waiting for you there. What you did not expect, however, was for him to have company. A willowy shinigami, bleary-eyed from the shameful amount of alcohol she had clearly consumed, was leaning towards Shunsui with pursed lips and the intent of leaving the festival with him. He, on the other hand, was not really indulging her avances. Instead, he gifted her short and dry chuckles, respectful of her solely for her gender.
You were fuming, anyway. Debating on whether staying, or leaving, when he caught you gaping at the scene unfolding before your eyes and subtly gestured for you to approach him. Smug bastard, he always had had his way with words. Swallowing your pride, you slided next to him, silently assessing what the Hell was going on. He knew you were a second away from snapping that goose’s neck like a twig. And maybe this was the reason why he squeezed your thigh reassuringly, but hard enough to get your attention.
“Alright, dear. Since you do seem eager to win me over, why don’t you buy me a drink, huh?” Shunsui suggested, earning a murderous look from you and a chortle from the other woman.
He seemed to have everything under his control. Everything, including you, because as soon as he caught a glimpse of your hand gliding over the hilt of your zanpakuto, his hand was wrapped around your wrist in a iron grip.
“Have some patience, honey”.
You scoffed, barely registering the slice of lemon on a silver tray the barman had settled on the counter before you. Not even the drink Shunsui had in his hand, ready to chug it down out of habit.
“Bite on the lemon, suck up the juice for me, as if it was… Well, you know” he murmured lowly, falshing a lazy smile at the drunk woman at his other side, eating him alive with her doe green eyes. Witch.
Nevertheless, you did. You grabbed the slice of the fruit, teeth sinking onto it, until Shunsui grasped your jaw and captured your lips with his in mindblowing kiss. You gasped, lips parting as Shunsui allowed the alcohol to run down your throat, his groan displaying his enjoyment in watching you yielding at him. He was such in a natural in situations like this. And you, swallowing down the bitter liquor, complied to his antics. At times, he acted as if everything was nothing but a comedy and he was on the stage to entertain the spectators. You shuddered, cheeks flushing up when you felt the eyes of some people passing by labeling you two as ‘shameless swines without any sense of docorum’ on you.
But this was nothing but Shunsui’s way to send a message to the woman upsetting you, the same woman now gawking in bewilderment as your boyfriend lapped at your lips, slowly dragging his tongue over your lips, cracking a grey eye open to silently shoo her away.
What a man you had found yourself.
And you were so lucky to have an experienced, older man who could have perfectly blended in the human world as a porn actor, given the way he languidly fucked you dumb. You were on your side, one hand wrapped around you thigh to lift it for you, the other around your throat, applying a gentle pressure on your windpipe.
His cock was bullying your cunt, slick in your arousal. The stretch, as per usual, had extremely delicate. Now, however, you were so wet it kept on entering and exiting your hole smoothly, effortlessly.
“Have I ever told you how catastrophically exquisite you look like when you are mad at me? Sometimes, I want to have you all bossy and irritated just to show you how hard you get me” he cooed, a throaty moan resonating in the room as he glided his nose down your jawline.
Not the dirty talk. Not again. You had lost the count of how many times you had reached your climax that night. The first orgasm had hit you while he had decided that fingering you in the gardens of his quarters was a good idea.
The rest was a blurry line of scandalous moans and limbs tangled in the desperate fight of tearing your clothes apart.
“You are risking your own life… — you chided him, eyes rolling in the back of your skull — Fuck! Fuck, Shunsui, I’m cumming again!” you cried out, frissons running down your legs as you bit down on your bottom lip until it bled. The metallic taste driving you wild was what you needed to suck his cock in, coating it in your juices.
He bit your cheek, affectionately, before he frowned and gave you a few sloppy thrusts before he finally ended up spurting his own release into you, painting your walls white to make sure you knew he had decided to stay with you until the very end.
“The first and last woman I loved… My woman”.
Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez had always been unhinged, territorial, radiating testosterone like the alpha male in a pack establishing its leadership. Strangely enough, much to your surprise, he was adapting to living in Karakura pretty well. Through the passing of time, he had learned not to pick up fights over trivial matters and was attempting to abstain from vomiting insults and vulgar terms in front of complete strangers. Sometimes, Kisuke had to call you to ask you to come to the shop, where he was risiding, to calm him down, but it had been quite a while since he had been out of his bonkers. He was making progresses and it was all in the name of his love for you. Or so you liked to think.
There were still so many things you had yet to do with Grimmjow and he was eager to explore the human world. Therefore, when one of your closest friends called you up to enjoy a night out at the local discotheque, you gladly accepted her invitation and persuaded Grimmjow to come with you. At first, he was baffled by the idea humans had of entertainment. He just stood in a corner, arms folded against his chest, as he inspected the strobs suspiciously, almost expecting them to explode in a million of lethal splinters. He claimed he did not mind you drifting away in the crowd of sweaty, dancing people occupying what you told him was a ‘dance floor’. Then his piercing blue eyes grew comically round. And he sensed something unpleasant was about to happen.
You were giggling, swaying your hips, clueless about the thug at your back disgustingly checking you out, as if you were a slice of cake to guzzle down. But Grimmjow had already elbowed his way up to you, hastily sliding behind your back and encircling your waist with his muscular arms. For once, it was not straight up territorial. It was a protective gesture. You could feel his chest heaving behind you, his abs pressed agaisnt your spine, his grip firm but not possessive.
“Grimm, what’s wrong?” you chimed, only for him to clench his jaw and stare daggers at someone behind you. You tried to twirl around to face him, to have a look at what was actually going on, but he prevented you from seeing the homicidal glare he was directing to that guy.
“Keep dancing, nothing’s worth of your attention”.
“You are clearly upset—”.
“Doll, drop it. Go dance with your friend, see you later”.
And just like that, he let you go, making sure you were skidding off in your friends arms. You blinked skeptically, when Grimmjow dashed out of the pub, fist tugging at the collar of a guy’s shirt, literally dragging him out of the dance floor and to the exit, you knew exactly what had happened.
Later, he made sure you felt each and every vein of his cock, engraving its shape into your tight, warm channel. He was frustrated, but not with you. His knuckles were bruised, sweat dribbled down his nose. You were perched on his lap, wrists tied with a rope behind your back, as Grimmjow slammed you down his shaft repeatedly. Your neck was ruined by feral marks he had left on your skin, teeth carving your flesh in hunger.
“Fuck— It’s hella hard taking ya out, okay? Ya just stroll around happily, ignoring the dogs drooling after ya with the only intent to screw you” he ranted, grinning as you pathetically whined on top of him. Your mind was gradually going blank.
Fragments of what had happened earlier outside the bar flashing before your eyes. You had felt ashamed, when you had grown wet at the sight of Grimmjow punching that man on his face. Blood had splattered on his knuckles and face, indecorous epithets shouted at his victim as he spat on the ground to emphasise his disgust towards him. Then he had said certain words and the world had stopped revolving for you.
“Leer at my fuckin’ girl like that again and I’ll make ya swallow your teeth”.
You were toasted. Just like now, with your pussy clenching shamelessly around his cock, teary eyes soaking in the sight of Grimmjow biting in the side of your throat again, his dick throbbing into you.
“Pretty girl, my absurdly stunning chick making heads turn. Gotta breed ya, tonight. Don’t wanna waste time anymore” he reasoned, planting a sloppy kiss on your swollen lips as he secured one arm around your waist and enclasped his hand behind your nape. You felt his cock dive deeper into you, a strained moan falling from your lips as he thrusted up into you.
Your forehead was pressed against his shoulders, your eyes closed as you cried out pathetically near his ear “Close! I’m— I’m really close, babe! Ngh— I’m cumming!” you wept, thighs quivering the moment he began to thrust up into you as if the world was going to wnd that night, if he did not get you pregnant.
And the moment he stilled, your own fluids gushing out of you and soaking his thighs, Grimmjow shot his load right into you, clutching you close like you were his possession. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, his cock twitching one last time until it eventually softened. You hummed, kissing the side of his jaw, whilst Grimmjow kneaded your ass out of habit, before delivering a firm spank on your left rear.
“Wanna go to the club again tomorrow? I’m yearning for more action” he jested, as you chuckled softly against his skin.
Well, despite what most of your friends still said about him, Grimmjow had proved himself to be a man that night, not a ruthless fuckboy not looking for a real relationship. You were his mate. He was not going to leave you, unless someone killed him. And, let’s be real, this was going to he a very hard task.
Took me long enough to upload this, but I made it! I’m sorry for the slow updates, but I confess I’ve barely got time to take care of myself as of late. I’ve a lot of ideas and little time to write, sigh. But I promise, this is going to be a good summer! Let me know what you think about this! Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!
Credits for the theme divider: @cafekitsune
Tags: @villainsrtasty @whatshernameis @anxiadix @jesurum-says-hi @sovl-society @koalaoffandoms @my-my-my
