˚₊‧꒰ა “You are always so eager,” he murmured once, amusement curling at the edges of his voice as he pulled back just enough to watch the frustration flicker across your face. “Patience, my love. I always give you what you want...eventually.”

˚₊‧꒰ა There were times when his mask slipped—not in a way that made him seem weak, but in a way that made him human. Late at night, when it was just the two of you, he let his voice soften, let himself lean into a conversation without carefully measured words. “It’s exhausting, isn’t it?” he murmured once, as he regarded the world he had constructed around himself. “Playing a role for so long that even the mask begins to feel like skin.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He had a habit of watching you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Not in a way that was unsettling, but in a way that suggested he found something in you worth observing. His gaze was rarely idle—it was studying, considering, analysing. Yet, in those moments, when he thought you wouldn’t notice, it wasn’t calculation you saw in his eyes. It was something softer, something almost reverent.

˚₊‧꒰ა His amusement at your reactions was one of the few things he never fully concealed. If you were flustered, if you fumbled a response to something he said with that smooth, unreadable tone, there was always the faintest upward quirk at the corner of his mouth. He found the little shifts in your expression endlessly fascinating, and though he never outright teased, his silence spoke volumes.

˚₊‧꒰ა Jealousy was beneath him. Or at least, that was what he would have you believe. It was not in his nature to scowl, to snap, to reveal something as trivial as possessiveness in any way that could be misconstrued as weakness.

˚₊‧꒰ა No, his brand of jealousy was far more refined, far more dangerous. It was a fleeting glance toward someone who had lingered too long in your presence, a slow sip of his tea as he listened to you recount a conversation with someone who no longer mattered. Because they would not matter for long.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You are the only one permitted to stand at my side," he once murmured, his fingers brushing your cheek, the warmth of his palm a sharp contrast to the cold finality in his eyes. "That is not a privilege I grant lightly."

˚₊‧꒰ა He never acknowledged the follow-up disappearances. Never made a comment when a persistent admirer of yours simply stopped existing, never drew attention to the people who drifted out of your life with eerie consistency. You knew, of course. Knew better than to ask. But sometimes, when his fingers skimmed over your cheek, when his gaze lingered just a second too long, you thought you saw something in his expression—something like satisfaction.

˚₊‧꒰ა “I only take what does not belong,” he said once, his voice as even as ever, his grip firm around your wrist as he pulled you closer. “And you, my dear, are mine.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Your importance in his life was not something he ever needed to state outright. It was evident in the way he structured the very world around you, in the way your comfort was an unspoken priority woven into every decision he made. You were not simply a part of his life—you were integral to it, as much a fixture in his plans as the foundation beneath his feet. If the world had to be rewritten for you to remain exactly where he wanted you, then so be it.

˚₊‧꒰ა His version of care was not always obvious, but it was constant. If he thought you had been working too hard, you’d find things rearranged so that you had fewer responsibilities that day. If you were injured, the one responsible would learn exactly what it meant to cross him, whether they realised it or not. He never made a spectacle of it, never acted out of character. But things had a way of aligning in his favour, and by extension, in yours.

˚₊‧꒰ა He did not give warnings lightly, nor did he repeat them. If he ever told you to be careful about something—or someone—it was not because he doubted your ability to handle yourself. It was because he had already considered every possible outcome and deemed it necessary to say something. “Do not mistake courtesy for kindness,” he told you once. “Even the most civilised of men can be monsters beneath the surface.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Vulnerability was not something Aizen allowed easily, but with you, it was different. Not often, and never completely, but there were glimpses—faint cracks in the seamless composure. Nights when he sat beside you in silence, the weight of his head resting lightly against your shoulder, the rise and fall of his breath slower, steadier. Moments when his fingers traced idle patterns on your wrist, when his guard lowered just enough for you to wonder if, beneath all that control, there was something softer.

˚₊‧꒰ა “The world is full of fools who believe themselves untouchable,” he mused one evening, his voice quieter than usual, his fingertips barely grazing the curve of your palm. “But you...you are the only certainty I have ever allowed myself.”

˚₊‧꒰ა In private, he was indulgent in a way few would believe possible. He took pleasure in your presence, in the sound of your voice, in the way your fingers brushed against his as you reached for something. It was not grand gestures that pleased him, but rather the sentiment—the fleeting touches, the way your breath hitched when he was too close, the unguarded moments when you forgot to be wary of the man he was.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Do you trust me?” he had asked once, and though you knew that trust, with him, was a precarious thing, you had answered, “Yes.” The satisfaction in his eyes had been unmistakable, as though he had been waiting for that moment all along.

˚₊‧꒰ა He never gave you a name that was not his own. Your actual name was used sparingly, reserved for moments when his displeasure needed to be made clear. Instead, he called you my love, my dear, words that wrapped around you like a claim, like a truth that could not be refuted. He never said them in excess, never used them in the way others might, but when they left his lips, they carried a weight that could not be ignored.

˚₊‧꒰ა He does not simply ‘exist’ in your life—he engraves himself into it. There is no ignoring his presence, no pretending that he is anything less than a force that shapes the very foundation of your world. He does not demand your devotion. He simply ensures that, in the end, there is no other place you would rather be.

˚₊‧꒰ა The world he envisioned had a place carved out for you, a throne beside his own. Whether you had realised it or not, your future was already entwined with his, every thread carefully woven into the grand design he had spent years crafting

˚₊‧꒰ა You stood at his side because that was where he had placed you, and Aizen did not position things carelessly. You were not an ornament, not a fleeting indulgence—no, you were something far more significant. A constant. A certainty. The one thing he would not allow to be taken from him.

˚₊‧꒰ა And if the world itself ever thought otherwise? Well. The world had never been beyond his ability to reshape.

❤︎ NSFW Headcanons

˚₊‧꒰ა Not a man who rushes. He takes his time, savouring every reaction, every sound, every way your body responds to him. His control is unwavering, his pace measured, his touch calculated to draw out the deepest, rawest pleasure from you. He does not simply fuck—he orchestrates, turning your pleasure into something exquisite, something entirely his.

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s a man of precision, and that extends to how he touches you. His hands move with purpose, fingertips tracing the curves of your body with the kind of patience that borders on cruel. He enjoys seeing you squirm beneath his touch, watching as anticipation coils through you, knowing that no matter how much you try to control yourself, he will break you down in the end.

˚₊‧꒰ა Aizen does not just want you to feel pleasure—he wants you to understand that it belongs to him. That every shiver, every moan, every desperate cry is because of him, because he allows it. And he will remind you of that fact with every measured thrust, every teasing whisper, every time he pulls back just before you can fall over the edge.

˚₊‧꒰ა His cock is just as refined as the rest of him—long, thick, perfect in its shape and proportion. He is not just big, he is devastating, stretching you open inch by inch, watching with sharp, hungry eyes as you struggle to take him. And he does not rush the process. He enjoys the way your body clings to him, the way you gasp as he pushes deeper, the way he can feel every little flutter of your walls as they adjust to his size.

˚₊‧꒰ა The whines and cries you make as you cling to him desperately, seeking more of him when he’s already breaking you. Your hunger for all of him makes him want to ruin you in the best way possible.

˚₊‧꒰ა He is not rough in a way that is uncontrolled—every movement is deliberate, every snap of his hips calculated for maximum effect. He knows exactly how to fuck you to make you lose yourself, exactly how deep to go to make you sob his name, exactly when to slow down to make you beg. He does not simply take—he consumes.

˚₊‧꒰ა No need to say much in bed, but when he does, his words are sharp. “Is this all you can take?” “I expected more from you.” “You wanted this, didn’t you?” He does not praise often, but when he does, it is intoxicating—low murmurs of “Good girl,” spoken against your skin, the slightest shift in his tone that lets you know he is pleased.

˚₊‧꒰ა He takes his time with foreplay, knowing exactly how to push you to the brink before he even slides inside. His hands are slow, teasing, skimming over your body without ever quite giving you what you need. He will stroke between your thighs, fingers barely grazing where you are most sensitive, a smirk tugging at his lips as you try to shift closer. “Impatient, aren’t you?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Control. Control. Control. But he also enjoys the moments when you lose yourself completely—when you arch against him, when your nails drag down his back, when you sob his name like it is the only thing keeping you grounded. It is not just the pleasure that interests him, but the way he can shape it, the way he can mould you beneath him.

˚₊‧꒰ა He is well aware of his own stamina, and he does not waste it. He can keep going long after you have collapsed, long after your body has given out. And he enjoys testing your limits, seeing just how much you can take before you are nothing but a shaking, overstimulated mess beneath him.

˚₊‧꒰ა He does not tolerate disobedience, but he does enjoy the fight. If you try to resist, if you try to tease him in return, he will simply put you back in your place—holding you down, pressing you into the mattress, fucking you slow and deep until you forget why you ever tried to challenge him in the first place.

˚₊‧꒰ა Enjoys watching you on your knees, your lips parted around his cock, your eyes wide as you take him as best as you can. He strokes your cheek, tangles his fingers in your hair, murmuring in that deep, composed voice, “You can take more than that.” And when you do, when you choke around him, when your eyes water from the stretch, he simply smirks, pleased but entirely unsurprised.

˚₊‧꒰ა He does love seeing you struggle to fit all of him in your mouth with your adorable determination. Teary eyes and drooling everywhere, as you look up at him with eagerness in those eyes as you attempt to swallow more of him. Makes him pat your head and coo at how dedicated you are to such a remarkable task.

˚₊‧꒰ა He is not the kind of man who loses himself in the moment. He remains composed, controlled, always one step ahead. Even when he fucks you senseless, even when your body trembles from overstimulation, he is entirely in command, knowing exactly how much you can take—even when you think you can take no more.

˚₊‧꒰ა Of course, he does slip up a tad bit—just a teeny bit when his possessiveness takes over. His voice becomes more heavier and rough, his grip on you becomes constricting as he pressed you onto whatever surface with more vigour. Or, he indulges in orgasm denial. His favourite.

˚₊‧꒰ა He just love seeing you all teary eyed and squirming as you beg and plead for relief, only for him to strip it from you. Leaving you dangling on the precipice while he laughs or mocks your performance. “You should have thought about that when you were attempting to flirt with a being lesser than you. Now you will know your worth.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Not to outrightly eat pussy, but when he chooses to, he is meticulous. He’s doing this by his rules and regulations—you must lie there and take it. He is slow, thorough, his tongue dragging over you with a precision that leaves you breathless. But he does not stop at one orgasm, nor does he let you pull away when it becomes too much. He holds you in place, lips and tongue working you over until you are sobbing from the sheer intensity, until you are nothing but a shaking, overstimulated mess in his grasp.

˚₊‧꒰ა It’s his fingers you need to watch out for. Those are the dangerous weapons he uses to his advantage to draw out all those pleas and cries from you. And what a perfect time to use Kyoka Suigetsu you to make you tremble like a leaf.

˚₊‧꒰ა He enjoys using it on you, making you feel sensations that aren’t real—whispers of fingers trailing over your body when his hands are still, a phantom tongue dragging over your clit while he watches you squirm. You can feel hands pinning you down, a firm grip on your wrists, even when his own hands are lazily stroking your hips. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs, smirking as you gasp. “You’re shaking as if there’s more than just me.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He will make you feel like there are multiple versions of him at once—one teasing your nipples, another licking between your thighs, another fucking you slow and deep. You can’t tell what’s real and what’s an illusion, but it doesn’t matter because the pleasure is all-consuming. He watches, fascinated, as you writhe beneath him, unable to process what’s happening. “Too much?” he asks, voice smooth, teasing. “But I’ve barely even started.”

˚₊‧꒰ა There’s no lifting a finger to keep you on the edge. He can make you feel like you're being fucked mercilessly without ever actually entering you, can make you feel the heat of his cock stretching you open while he remains seated across the room, watching you pant and beg for something real. “Do you want me to touch you?” he muses, feigning curiosity. “Or should I just let you keep fucking yourself on nothing?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He enjoys warping your senses—making you feel like he is fucking you from behind when he is actually in front of you, making you feel like you are riding him when you are still lying beneath him, helpless. You don’t know which way is up, don’t know how he’s touching you, only that your body is responding to everything, every thrust, every teasing graze. “You can’t even tell what’s real anymore, can you?” he murmurs, kissing your neck. “And yet, you still cum so easily for me.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He does not need to tie you down; he can make you feel bound, spread open, utterly at his mercy, even when you are free to move. Your wrists feel locked above your head, your legs held apart by invisible forces, unable to close around him. He watches the panic and pleasure mix in your expression, a pleased smirk tugging at his lips. “You struggle so beautifully,” he murmurs, running a single finger down your trembling thigh. “But we both know you’re not going anywhere.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He’ll use his Shikai to make you see exactly what he sees. Under his illusions, you can witness yourself writhing beneath him from his perspective—watching your own flushed face, your desperate, wanton expression as he ruins you. “Look at yourself,” he orders, gripping your chin. “Look at how easily you fall apart for me.” You can’t escape it, can’t turn away from the vision of yourself utterly lost to pleasure under him.

˚₊‧꒰ა He does not stop after one orgasm. Even when you are trembling, too sensitive to continue, he can make you feel like he is still thrusting into you (using Kyoka Suigetsu), still stretching you open, even when he has pulled away. You feel every thick, deliberate stroke, the stretch of his cock, the teasing roll of his hips—even as you watch him smirk from a distance. “You look exhausted,” he muses. “And yet, your body is still begging for more.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You’ll hear his voice inside your head even when he is silent, murmuring sweet, sinful things directly into your mind. “Touch yourself for me.” “Spread your legs wider.” “Cum, now.” His voice is all-consuming, the illusion of his breath against your ear making you shudder. And when you disobey, when you hesitate for even a second, his smirk sharpens. “Did I stutter?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Aizen is the master of control, and he expects you to submit to his touch, his pace, his every calculated movement. He does not raise his voice or demand obedience—he simply expects it, and when you inevitably give in, the smirk on his lips is nothing short of triumphant. He enjoys making you understand that your pleasure belongs to him, that your body will respond only to him, that he decides when you can come.

˚₊‧꒰ა He revels in keeping you teetering on the edge, watching as frustration builds in your body, as you tremble beneath him, desperate for release. He has no issue stopping entirely just to hear you beg for it, just to remind you who controls your pleasure. And when he finally allows you to come, it is never just once—he pushes you past your limits, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you until you are left gasping, barely able to take another.

˚₊‧꒰ა Does not degrade outright, but his words cut deep, slipping under your skin in a way that makes you burn. He will murmur in your ear, voice smooth, teasing, laced with condescension. “Is this all you can handle?” “Look at you, trembling from just my fingers. You really are helpless, aren’t you?” And just when you think he is being cruel, he will murmur something just as devastatingly sweet—“That’s it. You’re doing so well for me.” “There’s my good girl.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Enjoys a good discipline. A sharp slap across your ass, a slow, measured spanking that leaves you squirming beneath him, a well-placed strike against your thigh as a warning. He does not do it simply for punishment—he does it because he enjoys the way your skin flushes under his palm, the way you moan at the sting, the way you cling to him afterwards, utterly undone.

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s not just big—he is perfectly, devastatingly shaped for ruining you. He enjoys watching the way you struggle to take him, the way you gasp as he stretches you open, the way your body clings to him. And he makes sure you feel every inch, dragging out the stretch, making you keen as he pushes deeper. “You can handle it,” he murmurs against your ear, even as your body trembles beneath him. “You’ve taken me before.”

˚₊‧꒰ა One orgasm is never enough for him. He enjoys seeing you wrecked beneath him, utterly overwhelmed, barely able to form words as he pushes you into another climax. He strokes your clit lazily even as you try to squirm away, watches the way you shake as he fucks another orgasm out of you, smirking as he murmurs, “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Takes his pleasure slowly, thoroughly, ensuring every inch of you is thoroughly claimed. He does not just fill you—he makes sure you take every last drop, pushing it deeper, murmuring against your ear as he watches his cum spill from between your thighs. And if you try to move too soon, he simply pins you down, his cock still deep inside you, smirking as he says, “You’re not done yet.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Not a man who leaves things to chance—he ensures that when he is done with you, there will be no question as to who you belong to. His teeth leave marks along your skin, faint bruises where his hands held you still. And when he sees them later, his smirk is knowing, satisfied. “Mine,” he murmurs, running his fingers over the marks he left behind, pleased at how they linger.

˚₊‧꒰ა He enjoys keeping you close, buried deep inside you without moving, just to feel the way you tremble around him. He will hold you in place, watching the way you squirm, how you struggle to keep still. And when you finally break, when you try to move, his grip tightens, his voice smooth as he says, “Did I say you could move?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He prefers positions that give him control and give him the best angle to watch your reactions, which allows him to break you apart most effectively. He enjoys having you sit in his lap, holding you against a wall, pinning you down, forcing you to take him exactly as he wants. He enjoys bending you over his desk, fucking into you slow and deep, making you feel every inch of him. And he enjoys having you ride him, watching with quiet amusement as you struggle to keep up, before ultimately taking control and reminding you who is in charge.

˚₊‧꒰ა He does not stop at one round. He will fuck you until your legs are shaking, until your body is weak from pleasure, until you are entirely spent. And even then, he will test you—dragging his fingers between your legs, feeling the way your body still shudders with need, murmuring, “One more.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Filling you up? No. He ensures you take every drop. He fucks his release into you, keeping you still, watching as his cum drips from between your thighs, entirely unbothered by the mess he has made. And if you try to move too soon, he will simply pull you back, pressing deep, ensuring that nothing goes to waste.

˚₊‧꒰ა He enjoys leaving you breathless, utterly spent, his cum dripping from between your thighs, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin. And when he finally allows you to rest, when he pulls you against him, there is a quiet satisfaction in the way he holds you—possessive, unwavering, as if to remind you that you are his, that you will always be his.

˚₊‧꒰ა Aftercare with him is subtle and effortless. He does not dote, does not fuss. Instead, he ensures your comfort in the same way he ensures everything else—without question, without hesitation. A warm cloth to clean you, a glass of water placed within reach, a hand resting at your lower back as he pulls you against him. He does not ask if you are alright. He already knows you are. You are his, after all—and he always takes care of what belongs to him.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @stygianoir @spellboundsuguru @cookielovesbook-akie @kennys-partner @sovl-society @villainsrtasty @foxycrafterofgreenwood

Kenpachi: This man is in it for the love of the game. He’s a munch through and through for HIS pleasure, but because of that enthusiasm, you are NOT complaining. Long day? Eat pussy. Happy? Eat pussy. Sad? Eat pussy. See? It’s the solution to all of his problems. He doesn’t care if you’ve been training all day … heck, he probably prefers it.

Shunsui: A lover devoted to your pleasure first and foremost, although he, too, is a total munch. He’s very intentional about it though; a big fan of using his fingers and mouth at the same time. Shunsui can get a little lost in pleasure at other points during sex … he likes being rough n’ mean (in a good way, as long as you also get off on it), but eating you out is when he really slows down and takes his time, making it very passionate and sensual … mmmhm mhm. he’s so sexy. He absolutely loves it when you ride his face, too.

Shinji: A munch as well! So many munches on Bleach. He’ll take breaks from eating to finger the hell out of you, talking not you, but your pussy, through it. This man is obsessed with trying to get you to squirt … also likes overstimulating you orally. He wants it messy and fun.

Byakuya: Pretty agnostic on eating you out … doesn’t hate it, but doesn’t love it. If he knows you’re into it, though, he will make sure it’s a common occurrence in foreplay. He’s never ONLY done oral on you; he always uses it as a precursor to penetrative sex. On the flip side, this man loves getting blowjobs. Double standard!!!! But that’s ok <3

Starrk: Not a munch in the same way that Kenpachi, Shunsui, and Shinji are, but he likes being close to you in any capacity, so he sees this as a way to achieve that goal. Receiving oral from Starrk is an extremely intimate and intense experience. His fingers reach so deep and curl perfectly … I just imagine him being so attentive.

Grimmjow: Similar to Kenpachi in the sense that he’s addicted to the taste of you. But, unlike Kenpachi, he can’t be satisfied with just getting you off. He also wants to cum … preferably via fucking and not blowjob.

“choso—fuck, yes,” you cry, legs shaking. he hooks one of your thighs over his shoulder, opening you up wider, hitting deeper. you can feel his cum from before leaking out with every thrust, making everything slippery, obscene. his hand slides down, thumb finding your clit, rubbing circles that have you seeing stars. “you’re dripping,” he mutters, almost to himself, eyes fixed on where he’s sliding in and out of you. “taking me so well.”

you come again fast, too fast, body convulsing, walls fluttering around him. it’s intense, almost painful, but the pleasure overrides it. he doesn’t stop, though. rides you through it, thrusting steady, using that technique to stay rock hard. “good girl,” he praises, voice strained. “but we’re not done.”

he flips you over like you weigh nothing, onto your stomach, ass up. you barely have time to catch your breath before he’s back inside, hands on your waist pulling you onto him. this angle’s brutal, he’s so deep you feel him in your guts. “shit, choso, slow down!" you beg, but it’s half-hearted. you don’t want him to slow down. you want him to break you.

“can’t,” he grunts, pounding harder. “you feel too fucking good.” one hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back so he can kiss your neck, bite down just enough to sting. the other hand smacks your ass, the sharp pain mixing with the pleasure, making you clench tighter. he groans at that, hips snapping forward. “do that again.”

you do, squeezing around him on purpose, and he rewards you with another smack, then rubs the spot soothingly before sliding his fingers down to your clit again. you’re a wreck, moaning incoherently, drool soaking the pillow. another orgasm builds, coiling tight in your belly. “i’m gonna—fuck, again,” you warn, voice breaking.

“do it,” he demands, thrusting erratically now. “come on my cock.” and you do, shattering, body going limp as waves crash over you. he follows this time, spilling inside you with a deep moan, but even as he does, you feel that cursed energy kick in. he doesn’t soften. stays hard, keeps moving, slow rolls of his hips that make you whimper from the sensitivity .“choso, i can’t—” you start, but he shushes you, pulling out gently only to roll you onto your back again. he hovers over you, cock still rigid, glistening with your mixed fluids. “you can,” he says, almost gentle now, but there’s that edge in his eyes. “one more. for me.”

you nod, too far gone to argue. he slides back in easy, your pussy welcoming him despite the ache. this round’s slower, more grinding than thrusting—him rocking into you, bodies pressed close. his mouth finds yours, kiss messy, tongues tangling. “you’re perfect,” he murmurs against your lips. “made for this. for my dick.” his hand dips between you, fingers teasing your slippery clit lightly, building you up teasingly slow. you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, nails raking down his back. he hisses, picking up speed, fucking you with long, deep strokes. the room smells like sex—sweat, cum, that faint cursed tang. it’s intoxicating. “harder,” you beg, chasing that edge again. he obliges, slamming into you, bed creaking under the force. your clit’s throbbing under his fingers, every nerve on fire. “choso! please, i’m close.”

“me too,” he admits, breath ragged. but he holds back, using his technique to edge himself, drawing it out. “want to feel you first.” his thumb presses harder on your clit, circling fast, and you break; orgasm ripping through you, back arching, vision blurring. you scream his name, clenching so tight it pulls him over too. he comes with a curse, flooding your insides again, but this time he lets himself soften a bit, pulling out halfway through.

wait—no. you feel it pulse, that energy, and he’s hard once more. “fuck, choso,” you laugh breathlessly, half-delirious. he smirks, but his eyes are soft. he pushes back in, but slower now, almost lazy. “can’t get enough of you.” this time it’s intimate—him grinding deep, hands roaming your body, pinching your nipples, sucking marks into your neck. you’re oversensitive, every touch electric, but you love it. crave it. he builds you up again, patient, whispering dirty shit in your ear. “love feeling you full of me,” he says. “gonna fuck you till you can’t walk. fill this pussy up again ‘n again.” his words send shivers down your spine, pussy clenching. he notices and thrusts harder. “like that? want me to use you?”

“yes,” you moan, hands in his hair, tugging. “use me. fuck me stupid.”

he growls, pace picking up. slams into you over and over, hand around your throat—not choking, just holding. your eyes roll back, another climax approaching, body teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure once again. “come for me,” he orders, fingers back on your clit. “wanna feel you milk me again.” it hits like a freight train, body seizing, his own cum gushing around him out of you as your muscles tense and you squirt a little, soaking the sheets. he groans, thrusting through it, then pulls out suddenly. “on your knees,” he says, voice commanding.

you obey, shaky, dropping to the floor beside the bed. he stands, cock hard and slick, technique keeping him going. you take him in your mouth, tasting yourself on him, sucking deep. he fists your hair, guiding you, fucking your face gently at first, then harder. “good girl,” he praises. “take it all.”

you do, gagging a bit but loving it. he comes down your throat with a moan, hot and thick, but even then he hardens again almost immediately. pulls you up, bends you over the edge of the bed again. slides back into your pussy from behind, mirror on the opposite side of the room showing your fucked-out face, his intense stare.

“look at yourself,” he says, hand on your jaw, making you watch. “see how wrecked you are?” thrusts punctuate his words, deep and rough. you’re dripping down your thighs, body trembling. he reaches around, pinches your clit, and you come again, vision almost blacking out, knees buckling. he holds you up, fucking you through it, then finally—finally—lets himself go, coming one last time without the technique boost. you both collapse onto the bed, panting, limbs tangled. “enough?” he asks, voice soft now, fingers tracing your spine.

“for now,” you mumble, smiling into his chest. but you both know—with him—it’s never really enough.

His mouth goes back between your legs, lips planting sloppy kisses to your pussy before he spits, hot fluid rushing down to your hole. His tongue follows as he moves down, using the tip of his tongue to push the saliva into your cunt, swirling his tongue around inside the wet opening.

"Mmm fuck.." he'd heard you whine make him smirk a bit as his tongue slipped out and back up spreading the warm wet sensation back up to the swollen bud where he slowly circled his tongue around. He'd go back and forth between flicking the bud with the tip of his tongue and laying his tongue flat and swirling it in a circular motion making your legs quiver.

His hold on them was tight, not allowing you to move them as he pulled an intense orgasm from you making you squirt, liquid gushing out messing up the sheets beneath you and landed on your cunt and thighs.

"Hold your legs." He'd command and you brought your hands down quickly to take the place of his as he'd move one of his own to rub over your wet cunt quickly making you cum again soon after as the pad of his fingers rubbed over your clit quickly. He watched you make an even bigger mess as you struggled to hold your legs still.

He'd slow down the movement of his hand still not stopping completely as he moved closer to your face.

"You're a mess.. filthy.."

He spoke lowly, holding his body over yours as he sinks two fingers deep inside of your overstimulated pussy, digits curling up into the plush walls.

"Fuck.. all cause of me, huh?"

He smirked, dragging his tongue up your neck as his fingers pumped in and out.

"What would the Captains think if they knew you were with me like this.. letting me do this to you.. hm? What would your Captain think, lieutenant..?"

He'd pull back, his uncovered eye looking into yours, smug expression written on his face.

You shouldn’t be here with him, shouldn't be letting him do this, you shouldn't trust him. It was dangerous, you knew that.

"Tell me.. would they kill you? Would you be a traitor..like me?"

He asked, dragging the thick digits in and out slow, making your legs tremble.

"Mmm they wouldn't.." you moan out softly and he leans down closer to your lips.

"But I might.." He says in a teasing, icy tone before kissing you softly, speeding up the movement of his hand.

"You won't.." you say softly as he pulls away and he studies your expression again, seeing your parted lips, the pleasured look in your eyes and hearing the sweet moans coming from your lips. Your cunt gushed and smacked loudly around his fingers as you heard him speak again, hesitantly.

"I won't." He reassures and as soon as the words slipped from his lips you'd cum on his hand, pussy creaming around the digits as he pulls them out.

He'd stand up bringing the messy fingers to his lips and licking them clean before pulling a piece of fabric from his pocket to clean his hand up further as he turned to walk away, pausing for a moment to speak to you once more as he slides the door of the room open.

"For now.."

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's).

First and foremost, if Aizen sticks around with you, it is most likely because he has developed an addiction to you and your body. He adores you. He is the type of man that, in the privacy of his bedroom, worships the body of his partner like a preacher.

When it comes to his favorite body part of you he is conflicted between your neck and your ass. Aizen loves kissing the tender flesh of your neck. It is not only because he loves hearing your soft moans as he nibbles at that area, or runs his tongue on it. Surprisingly, it is because he thinks it is a vulnerable part of your body. He could choke the life out of you, or snap your neck like a twig, if he wanted, yet he chooses to kiss you.

Your ass is simply his lustful side trying to take over his rationality. He loves squeezing it, spanking it and watching the way it wiggles, as he takes you from behind.

His own favorite body parts are his hands. They are large, calloused, a source of power: they are the hands that hold swords, but also caress your body each and every night.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically).

He does not really like to get his partner and his own body messy and sticky. Therefore, he is always going to release his seed into you. He does not really care where, all it matters is that your body has to absorb it. Yet, he might have a little preference.

Sosuke is truly into making you swallow his cum. Finishing into your mouth grants him an amount of pleasure and satisfaction without precedents.

Do not disappoint him and let this man stare down at you with an unnerving expression plastered over his face. He would probably be the type to groan in pleasure and watch you swallow, as an harsh command, sounding like a threat, left his lips “Do not let a single drop go to waste”.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs).

This man has a thing for mirror sex. Why? It is pretty much self-explenatory. He loves to admire your bodies pressed against each other as you allow lust to envelope you. Yet, he just cannot resist watching the way you moan for him, the way you blush and the lewd faces you make, as he takes you like that.

He likes to grip your hair and force you to watch your reflections in the mirror, because you need to see the way he can easily break you and carve into your mind the picture of him dominating you to exhaustion. It is another reminder for you that no one could ever do the same thing to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Being an handsome and manipulative man, Aizen has a lot of experience and he definitely knows what he is doing. He can make you scream in pleasure and for help to the point where you lose yourself and your senses seem to be completely under his control. Sometimes, it is hard to understand if he is involving his Zanpakuto into it. It feels unreal, too good to be true.

He has also been alone for a long time now. Do not be that surprised. He knows how to break you and put you back together.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This man does not stick to one position during your sessions. He loves to manhandle you, watch you unravel in pure ecstasy before his brown chocolate eyes and switch positions every now and then. His favorite ones are probably missionary and doggy, but he definitely do not disdain reverse cowgirl.

As for missionary, having you underneath him grants him the chance to look you straight in the eyes as he ruins you. He draws so much pleasure in wrapping his hand around your neck and choking you, as he thrusts into you to chase his orgasm. You look so pathetic and adorable as you scream his name at his face. Also, he can grasp your thighs and drape your legs over his shoulders to push even deeper into you. Bitemarks and dirty talk are a must.

What man does not have a thing for doggy? It is degrading, animalistic and it makes him feel even more in control of your body. Your head is probably going to be pushed onto the pillow as he snaps his hips back and forth into you. The lewd sounds of skin against skin make you feel like a whore and he smirks at that thought.

The reverse cowgirl is the cherry on top. He always have to be in control and if you simply rode him, it would somehow give you the chance to take the lead. He cannot allow that. His chiseled abs and toned chest pressed against your back, his shaft deep into you and his mouth close to your ear are such an addiction. If you whimper too much, he will wrap one hand around your neck and tighten his grip around your waist with the other. You cannot escape him, get that insidr your head.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.).

Aizen has mastered a poker face you could never crack in any way. Even when he indulges in steamy activities with you, he is not going to joke or fool around. He simply focuses his whole attention on you and tries to break you through his sadistic grins and dirty remarks. Do not expect anything else from him. This is all you are going to get.

Maybe, a dark chuckle might erupt from his throat as he watches you crumble on the bed drained by his ministrations. He loves the way you always let him take the lead. Your submission tickles his ego and amuses him quite a bit.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He loves to he cleaned and tidy. Yet, he does not shave completely as he wants some part of his masculinity to still be present. The carpet matches the drapes but they hair are well trimmed, groomed and short.

The V line has short dark brown trail of hair leading down to his groin and, honestly, when he ambles around the room wearing only his boxers, it is hard not to drool on the carpet.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Aizen Sosuke does not care about anyone, except for you. Despite his algid personality, he deeply cares about you. Intimacy is a must and it is shown through his actions and glances. On some softer words slipping his lips as he reassures and you during your times together.

“You are doing amazing” he whispers as you wince for a slight sting of pain, his tip now kissing your cervix as he grants you some time to adjust to his size.

It might sound corny for someone like him, and he watch himself from talking about it, but he loves holding your hands during the act.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Never. Really. If you are not around, he would rather fight back his carnal urges instead of getting his own hands dirty. He believes it is not his job to drag himself to the edge and he can perfectly live without masturbating anyway. He is also too self-assured and firmly believes he could have anyone at any given time to get him rid of his biological necessities.

He is the type of man who simply likes to have a complete intercourse instead of pleasuring himself alone. If he cannot really resist anymore and you two cannot have a moment of intimacy due to the lack of time, then he would just ask you to do it for him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks).

This man has a lot of kinks. Most of them aim to make you bend the knee, ensure his dominance over you and make you abandon yourself to him. Aizen is into spanking and, sometimes, even face slapping. It is not like he is going to leave you battered, or badly beaten up. He would never go that far, not when he has come to terms with the fact that he loves you.

He likes to leave some handprints on your arses, though. His hands are large and they are a source of power for him. Using them to tame you is absolutely great. It is a good way to assert dominance too, after all.

The former Captain of the Fifth Division is into choking too. When he feels particularly hungry for you, he would even venture into spitting into your mouth as your lips were parted for gasping for air. He wants you to be his and his alone.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In the privacy of his bedroom, or anywhere at your place. He does not really mind having his way with you in your residence in the world of the livings. No one will bother him there anyway. Beside your bedroom, he likes to bend you over the kitchen counter. It gives him a feeling of domestic affection, something he is not that used to.

Back in his residence, he does not mind having you riding him on his throne. Anyone could walk in, that is indeed true, but he gets kind of aroused at the thought of his subordinates seeing you in such a vulnerable state on his lap. They can watch, but they cannot touch you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Wear some black laced lingerie and a red lipstick and you are going to get him on his knees. Not quite literally, because he would never kneel for anyone, but you will definitely get him into the right mood.

Aizen loves seeing you in short dresses that expose your thighs and, probably, high heels do something to him too. Elegance, sensuality, the idea of ruining you and your pretty attire along with your body. That is what turns him on.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Threesomes. Aizen Sosuke does not share. Once he has set his eyes on you and marked you as his property, he is not going to let anyone else enjoy your body and presence, for what can matter. He is possessive, jealous, almost toxic. Whenever you mention the possibility of allowing a third person to join you in the privacy of your bedroom, he does not hesitate to show you how deeply offended he is by your suggestion.

Marks, bruises and punishments are his love language. Is he not enough for you? Do you want more than what he is giving you? That is perfectly fine by him. He will show you that no one could ever pleasure you like he does.

You will probably not be able to sit and walk properly for a few days once he is done with you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He has a preference, of course. Aizen would rather sit on his throne and watch you kneel before him, like a worshipper, as you twirl your tongue around his shaft. Suck him off. He does not even need to ask for it. When he walks into the room and sits down, his legs parted enough for you to take on your place on the floor, at his feet, you immediately drop to your knees and bob your head up and down for him.

His grip on your hair is so tight you may think he is surely going to tear them off of your scalp, but as you claw at his thigh, he might loosen it a bit.

He rarely blesses you with his tongue. He loves your taste, actually, yet he is the king. The king does not get down and dirty. Not even for his queen, unless it is a special occasion.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Aizen is rough, but sensual. He loves to take his time with you. Tearing your sanity and dignity apart is an art. According to him, it is like pouring the finest wine into a goblet and sip on it slowly to make sure he can savour and catch all of your nuances. There is no need to rush.

He will thrust into you with a slow and steady pace, but roughly. The yelps and moans falling your parted lips are such a heavenly sight to behold and he definitely loves to brush his thumb on your lower lip, before sliding it into your mouth as he watches your face contort into pleasure.

“What a masterpiece” he whispers, grunting as he ravels into you with a particularly brutal thrust.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is not into quickies at all. He loathes them. The rare times he would opt for them are when you feel particularly needy as beg him to have some fun together. He thinks quickies are not pleasurable at all for you two. He is used to last for hours and take it slow.

Honestly, he is the type to fuck you during a meeting with the Arrancar instead of cornering you in a dark alley. He wants things to be done a certain kind of way.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Once you have ventured further into your relationship, he will be more willing to take risks and experiment. Honestly, you do not have to introduce him to anything. Aizen is a man of culture, a man who loves to be informed of the latest trends and practices.

There is nearly nothing you two have not tried. Sometimes, he loves to involve Kyoka Suigetsu into your intimacy to make you believe there someone you know watching you judgementally.

The risk he has never cared about from a certain period of time is getting you pregnant. He would be absolutely glad to make you carry his child. Condoms are long forgotten into a drawer of a nightstand.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?).

If it depended solely on him and his stamina, your spine would be broken. Aizen could go for about five or six rounds without taking a break. Yet, he has to restrain himself. He is a cold, selfish man but he knows he could truly cause you damages and that is not something he wishes.

He will therefore settle for two, three rounds at maximum and if you are still in a good condition for keep on going. He cares about your well-being. He does not really have much trouble in taking them slow and he is perfectly capable of controlling his orgasm to prolong your pleasure. Sitting down after your intercourses is a pain in the ass. Quite literally.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?).

He knows about the existence of toys and he owns some of them, but they are not penetrative at all. He owns blindfolds, ropes and crops he sometimes enjoys to involve into your sexual adventures.

He is a dominant man, thus making him drawn to use them on you. He loves to tie you up on the bedposts of your shared bed and push you to the edge over and over again. Crumble at his feet, chant his name like a holy mantra and he will make sure you will be rewarded. He is a sadist. End of discussion.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The most pleasurable tortures come from a relationship with Aizen Sosuke. He will have no mercy. Tears might stream down your cheeks as you are laying drained, overstimulated, underneath him but he will continue to tease you until he is satisfied.

Beg him, he loves to hear you begging him to stop. It will not help you out of it, though. He likes to watch your body respond to his touches, to his deft fingers and sinful, but skilled tongue.

Also, pray the Gods for him not to be upset after a meeting. He will take all of his anger and frustration out on your writhing body. Mercy is a privilege and you will certainly not get it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Aizen is not that vocal. Maybe, he lets out some louder, deep moans when he reaches his climax, but throughout the session he will just grunt lowly, erotically in your ear. You will feel his hot breath fanning your earlobe as he is deep into your core, whispering some dirty praises on how much of a good girl you are, or about your skills when you give him head.

“I will fuck you so good you will be ruined for any man you will have after me” he whispers in your ear, thrusting up into you with swift snaps of his hips. Little do you know he is going to be the last man you will ever have. Aizen will kill anyone who dares to even think about you and, probably, he would kill you too if you dared to betray him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The wild card is truly wild. Expect this man to ask for anal. The feeling of pure domain over your mind and body he experiences through it makes him go feral. He would not force you to agree in it, but he would definitely be the type to talk you into giving it, at least, a try.

Being a master manipulator, it is almost impossible to deny him his request.

He, however, enjoys this only with you. His partner, his life companion, his love. He would be gentle at first, making sure you are relaxed to make the deed good for the both of you. Once you are prepared enough, do not expect him to be merciful though.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Under his boxers, this man is impressive. Almost too painful to take and he is proud about it. You will never get used to his size, but he knows you struggle at first and he might give you some time to adjust to his shaft.

Aizen is a grower. When he is soft he is about 8 inches long. As he gets hard he reaches around 10 inches. The girth is considerable and he loves to watch your face contort in a slightly painful expression as he slide into you inch by inch.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?).

It can vary, but you could say it is relatively high. During stressful periods, Aizen believes having sex is a good therapeutic way to steam off some tension. It is more of a duty and a routine for him, although he is absolutely driven by his lust for you.

When he is just having some quality time with you, it is purely based on his affection. It is a good way to satisfy his thirst for you and even inure his darling to him.

Since you two became a thing, he would never lose his chance to bend you over the desk and rail you until you are too exhausted to even moan.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards).

Sleep is a privilege for him. Aizen is restless, really. He probably barely gets some rest anyway, therefore he indulges into his bedroom for quite a bit afterwards. Once he is done cleaning you and himself up, he straight forward goes back to his bed and, draping an arm around your waist to pull you closer, he falls asleep.

Do not expect much of a giver, he just wants you to know that he is by your side and that you should get some rest too. He has chosen you, after all. He won’t let his darling sleep without feeling safe.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there! I have been finally able to post this one. I have an unhealthy obsession for Aizen and I think it shows… However, as per usual, I always try to be as detatched as possible from my fantasy and analyze the character basing purely on his personality, while writing. I hope you enjoyed it! Next to come will be the NSFW alphabet of Urahara. If you want to be tagged, comment below. Likes, comments and re-posts are truly appreciated.

Until next,

x o x o

You knew about Aizen, what he wanted to achieve-you were the only person he had told apart from three others. You were going to go ahead and help him make this dream a reality. To be in the company of Aizen was to be with a God-the level of control he had, it scared you, couldn't tell if you felt safe too. He's always there to protect you, keeps you hidden away so you can't get hurt. Still, something has always been a bit off about him; you noticed it, how his eyes would follow your every move, every breath. It started innocently enough with Aizen as a perfect gentleman, never forcing and yet giving you just enough space to feel independent. Subtle changes began to happen over time. "Are you going out again?" Aizen's voice came out soft, he is masking his disapproval, he's waiting for the right moment to force you to stay with him. You lifted your gaze from the mirror in front of you and finished styling out your hair. "Just for a little while. Soon I will be back." His eyes stayed on you a moment, his smile false as he stared at you. "I worry about you," he said, moving in behind you and setting his hands on your shoulders before trailing off down to your hands. "The world is a dangerous place, and I'm not always going to be here to protect you. You're only a healer, you can't do much, my love." Comforting, even, his words were sweet. You think. A lump, tense feeling began to grow in your stomach but you laughed it off, brushing his hands with a soft touch. "I'll be fine, Sosuke! I can take care of myself." But the seed had been sown. Over weeks, he came further into your life, and what you used to decide for yourself would, it seemed henceforth, have first to pass through him. And he keeps reminding you so often with a soft chuckle that he wants nothing but the best for you. "You know, you need to take more rest," Aizen said to you one night while doing reports. He leaned over you with his hand tucked in the back of your nemaki, drawing circles, almost to sooth you. "All this stress isn't good for your health." You faltered, words caught in your throat. "I need to finish this." "You don't," he returned smoothly. His fingers closed over your shoulder, tightening just a fraction. "What you need is to unwind. I don't like seeing you overexerting yourself." Before he could object further, he leaned forward and rolled the scroll shut before taking it in his hands. "I'll take care of everything," he whispered. "Just trust me." At first, it was very easy to confuse his overprotectiveness with care. He was attentive, loving in his own peculiar way. Before long, the control started to become more evident with each passing day. 

He never raised his voice nor did he yell. He didn't have to. His words had been enough to lead you to wherever he wanted you to go. And they were so gradual besides, too slight, almost imperceptible. He started taking you away from your friends, from your captain, your lieutenant, subtly making you feel they were not people you should trust. "They don't understand you the way I do," he'd say stroking your hair as you lay in his arms. "They'll only hold you back." And when you fell, he'd lift your chin so it faced his eyes, the skin of your forehead grazing his lips in a feather-soft touch. "I only want what's best for you." You had begun to lean on him, questioning your choices, and if indeed you really knew what was best for you. Then you went to Aizen to see if it was okay-the things you were doing. Aizen had this way of speaking, as though he was the only one who knew you. Lying beside him in bed, as night fell, you said what was pent up inside your mind, "Aizen, am I the only one who thinks this all went a bit too fast? I feel like... I'm losing myself." His response was immediate. "You aren't losing yourself, my love, you're finding who you're really supposed to be. With me, you don't have to worry about a thing. Always, I will take care of you," he says with a softness, but his words are like honey. Still, with those words somehow, it sent shivers down your spine. That was when the future conversations started, light at first, talks about what life could be if you stayed together. A house, peaceful life, children. "You'd make a great mother," he said one afternoon as his eyes latched onto yours. "Can't you imagine building a life with me?" Your heart had skipped a beat, but there was a growing discomfort. "Perhaps someday, but I don't know if I'm ready for that as yet." Aizen didn't press the issue then, but the subject kept coming up. He'd casually touch your belly, remark on how ideal it would be to have a family, how complete your bond would be if you were tied together in every possible way. "It's natural to be wary," Aizen told you one evening while you sat before the fireplace. His hand lay limply on your thigh, his thumb tracing soft patterns. "But do think about it. A child would only strengthen our love. We'd be forever bound." You laughed a little nervously and brushed the suggestion aside. "That's a big step, Aizen. I'm just not sure I'm ready." He smiled gently, his eyes concealing something, something that you don't notice. "You will see, in time, it is the best thing that can happen to us." You didn't know that in his mind, a decision was already made.

Aizen and you have had sex multiple times, so it isn't a rare occurrence for the two of you to have sex at least once a day, at the least, it would be once every two days. But, Aizen makes sure to leave you every night, making sure that you are so fucked out due to pleasure that you forget to notice particular things. 

Specifically, something that is about to happen tonight. 

Your arms are pinned above your head, as Aizen's fingers experimentally push past your slick folds, his fingers pressing past your clit, and a surge of pleasure courses through you, leaving you breathless and desperate for more.

 A moan left your mouth as your back arched to his touch. Your reaction made Aizen press down slightly more, and your legs squeezed around his waist, moans stringing out your mouth.

You felt his fingers slide down, and he found your seeping hols drenched with arousal. A finger slowly slid inside your heat, a whimper leaving your mouth. "Does this feel good?" Aizen asked, and you nodded frantically.

"F-Fuck... feels so good, Sosuke," you whimpered as he started to slowly pump in and out your soaked walls.

"Really?" He asked and you moaned as he inserted another finger into your walls.

Overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and intensity, it leaves you unable to hold back your moans. You lean your lips against his shoulder, muffling those sounds that burst from deep inside you. His fingers delve deep inside your core, firing a flame that engulfs every thought. Every movement, every curl sends shockwaves of pleasure across your body.

You let go and surrender to his intoxicating rhythm of touches. The junction of his skilled fingers with the intensity of our connection cossets you closer to the edge and teetering on the precipice of release. It was just a pure moment of bliss, where time seemed to stand still, filled completely with an overwhelming pleasure that coursed through the veins.

With Aizen's fingers pumping in and out of your seeping hole relentlessly, there was a familiar tightness growing in your lower abdomen, and pleasure that had tightened inside your stomach. You wrap your shaking legs around him, trying to hold on to him as the pleasure overflows. Anticipation ripples your body, reacting to every single one of his touches and movements.

You chant his name into his neck as praises leave your mouth, your voice filled with desire and need. The tears welling in your eyes are not from pain but from the overwhelming pleasure that threatens to consume you whole.

At your pleading, sucks the skin around your neck once more, groaning against your neck, his voice husky with desire. His thumb starts pressing your clit with its fleshy pad, another layer added onto the sensations that are already so intense. The touch is electrifying, your back arches in response.

"Please, Sosuke," you sob. "I need to..."

"Let your body take over for you, you want this and I've got you," Aizen reassured, intertwining your mouths together, his mouth swallowing the moans that slipped out your mouth.

Waves of ecstasy wash over you, leaving your legs trembling and weak from the intensity of the sensations. He slips his fingers from your hole and you continue to tremble from the aftermath of the orgasm. You managed to release myself from Aizen's neck and move away from his hold.

"Feeling alright?" Aizen asks cupping my cheeks.

"...yeah..." you breath out slowly while looking into his eyes. Aizen makes you feel so good, all the time, always focusing n your own pleasure, it's like he's trying to win you over for something, to distract you from something-

"There is more coming," Aizen said slowly, his brown eyes piercing into your own and they widened.

"More?" you tease, "What possibly could you give me more of?"

"So much, my love," Aizen hums. "Just let yourself loose, don't focus on anything, just on the pleasure I will give."

He delicately bites the shell of your ear making you let out a quiet whimper. you could feel him smile against your ear at your reaction. Aizen's touch caused you to dig your nails slightly into his chest leaving light crescent marks causing more deep exhales of breaths to get caught in your ear.

Aizen moved his head and his body suddenly firmly pressed against yours and you whimpered at the feeling of his dick pressing up agasint your stomach. His lips mingled with yours his minty taste and smell overflowed your senses making it a complete euphoria for you. you cupped the back of his neck to create a deeper angle for him to go explore deeper into your mouth with our tongues continuing to entangle with each other.

Aizen groans into your mouth, the hand that was trailing down your thigh moved swiftly back to your waist and the other intertwined with your hair at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him. you let out breathy sighs into him as your own hand interlaced with his chocolte and your other wrapped around behind his neck.

His other hand moved its way down to tightly lift your thigh up which made his body mould closer to mine making you feel his dick press up against your soaked core. The kiss slows down and turns soft and almost desperate it's as if he wants to take his time with you, savouring every inch of your taste, to take his sweet time to memorise you.

"Look at you," he teases. "Trembling under my touch."

Aizen pants against your lips and you didn't have time to reply as he pressed them against you once more. "Please," I whimper out.

"Hmm?"

"I want you...." you mumble. "Stop teasing me."

Aizen kissing your forehead like you were a child who listened to their parent. "Good girl."

He presses his lips against mine to take your mind off. you feel a hard tip get lubricated at your entrance making your back arch into him as you let out a strangled moan of pleasure into his mouth. He continues to push further into you making your eyebrows furrow together in pain but the pleasure is still overwhelming your senses making tears prick at your eyes.

"Oh, you feel so good," Aizen whimpers into your neck. "You're so perfect."

You moan. The feeling of pure ecstasy of him fully entered you, the pain gone.

You feel his dick scraping across your plush walls in all the right places as he slowly exited your cunt, but not fully. Your moans and whimpers get swallowed by each other. you feel his thrusts speed up and you moan in response, your walls clenching around him causing the grip Aizen held on your thigh and waist to tighten.

The coil in your stomach getting tighter and your moans slightly became higher. Aizen continued to groan into your neck after he pulled away from the heated kiss.

"You make- me feel so goo- d," you say moaning throughout your sentence, "Feels so good-" you felt the coil in your stomach snap as your back arched painfully into Aizen's bare chest causing Aizen to groan and his arms moved to wrap tightly around you.

You arched your back heavily, able at last to sink further into his embrace. Aizen leaned over, drawing you near to him and initiating a messy, moist kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, letting out grunts as he absorbed your sounds of pleasure. 

Effectively distracting you as he cums half in your cunt and the rest all over your stomach. He mimics that he's pulled out when in reality, he's got you filled with his seed, ready for you to bare his child.

-------------------------------------------------

 Aizen watched you from his chair.. "You're shaking, dear. What's going through your mind?" His voice was smooth, treacherous in a way that completely made it impossible for you to feel anything but relaxed and on edge all at once.

"I-I just don't understand...," you stammered, your hand falling to rest on your stomach, that for the last couple of weeks had started to show the signs of the life growing inside you. "How could this have happened? We were careful..."

Aizen chuckled low in his throat. "Oh, my love. Did you truly think I would leave something so important to chance? This was always a part of the plan."

You froze, your mind racing. "Wha... what do you mean?"

He stood, moving towards you with the grace of a predator stalking his prey. His hand cupped your cheek as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, "I made it happen. I want you bound to me in every way possible. You're mine now-mind, body, and soul."

It swept over you, you realise everything now. Every sweet word, every tender touch, was all an act to trap you. And in one swell, tears began to well within your eyes, but a gentle smiling Aizen wiped them away.

"There is no reason to cry, dear, this is for the best. Now you shall never leave me. You shall carry my child, and we will be bound together, forever." His lips pressed against your forehead. Your breath hitched as his hand slipped into your stomach. How had you not seen this all along? All those nights he had held you close, whispering sweet promises to your ear-all part of his carefully designed trap. He straightened, watching your. "You're too precious to let slip away. You see that, don't you?" His fingers brushed your skin. "You planned this," I whispered, more for my benefit than his. "You wanted this all along..."

Aizen smiled. "Of course. You really didn't think I'd leave a thing like that to chance, did you? I have always had a vision for us-a future wherein you would be mine-completely." You took another step backward, feeling the beating of your heart within your chest, but there was nowhere to go. "What if I don't want it?" you whispered almost soundlessly. "You are emotional now. Understandably so. But time will let you see this as precisely what you need." His voice was coaxing, speaking as he would to a frightened child. You shook your head, fighting down the panic rising into your throat. "I don't want to be trapped like this, Aizen. You can't just take away my choices." Aizen's hand rose to your chin, the pad of his thumb tipping your face upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Oh my love, I have not taken anything from you. I've simply... ensured that we shall never again be parted. Is it not what you wanted, deep down?" "I... I don't know," you said, voice shaking. "Shhh," Aizen cooed, pressing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You are overwhelmed now. But in time, you shall see: our child will bind us together, and you shall understand that was the only way. You shall thank me for protecting our future. "Why?" one finally asked, barely above a whisper. "Why go to such an extent? Aizen's smile pulled taut over his lips, never quite reaching his eyes. "Because I love you. And when I love someone, I make sure they can never leave me." Aizen leaned down until his lips brushed against your ear. "There's no escape, my dear. Not now, not ever."

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