Post-meeting Briefing. Espada And Quincy Edition.

switching back and forth between Euphoria and JJK on HBO Max

“Ready ta pop ya in my mouth~”

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Based off of a fic by @villainsrtasty and you should read it :P

Will I get sick of this idiot any time soon? Absolutely not >:)

This took a while cause I moved apartments this weekend and I am exhausted lol

hmmm how Shinji is gonna cheer Kisuke up

btw @ those followers who are quiet lurkers and who like things here and there but don't say much...i used to be just like you and i see you and appreciate your support and i love you :) <3

me face to face with Shinji

Hey !

are you able to do bleach men and what their favorite s*x positions would be ? ( shunsui, kisuke , grimmjow etc )

𝐘𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐜𝐡 — Full Nelson

𝐉𝐮𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 — Bent over any surface (mostly a tabletop)

𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 — Cowgirl, Reverse Cowgirl

𝐁𝐚𝐳𝐳-𝐁 — Doggystyle (with a deep arch)

𝐑𝐲𝐮𝐤𝐞𝐧 — Missionary (he’ll alter your legs to suit)

𝐔𝐫𝐲𝐮 — Cowgirl

𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐢 — Spooning, Cowgirl and when he isn’t feeling lazy, Mating Press

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 — Missionary (leg over shoulder or resting in elbow)

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 — Any position, especially from behind

𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧 — Seated on his lap

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐢 — Any position face to face

𝐆𝐢𝐧 — Reverse Cowgirl

𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 — Missionary (a leg over the shoulder or resting in his elbow)

𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐚 — Cowgirl, Lotus

𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 — Doggystyle (face down, ass up)

𝐈𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐨 — Doggystyle (arch real good for him) and Mating Press

𝐓𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 (𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭) — Missionary (legs in the crook of elbows)

𝐙𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐢 — Bent over any surface, suspended in his arms and folded like figure eight lol (Full Nelson)

𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐰 — Doggystyle (face down, ass up and a deep arch), bent over or pressed against any surface

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐤 — Cowgirl, Reverse Cowgirl, Spooning

𝐔𝐥𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐚 — Missionary

Grimmjow… is a cookie thief. Short imagine or scenario. Can be Hueco Mundo, World of the Living or even the Seireitei.

Thanks for the lovely ask! I'm sorry it's taken me so. damn. long! So, it's turned out that Grimm isn't the thief here, but it's Grimmjow smut so I know you won't mind. 😁

Thanks to the wonderful @villainsrtasty for beta reading! @kryptoniteforsale @cloudyempress @darthwhorecrux @whatshernameis @writemessybleach

This is part 1 of 2.

PART TWO HERE! CW: Female!Reader, Grimmjow being Grimmjow, marking/hickies, one or two bites, hand on neck but no actual choking, very light spanking, oral sex-male receiving, vaginal fingering, doggy and missionary sex, cream pie, "claiming" if you squint, pet names (princess/kitten) and one instance of reader getting called "good girl". (This covers both parts of the fic!)

Grimmjow and the Cookie Thief pt 1 (~5.2k words)

You’d been able to see things no one else could since you could remember. After moving to Karakura Town to begin University classes, that skill had gone from fleeting glimpses to a full-blown ability to see the unseen. That’s why, when your upper floor dorm room was rendered uninhabitable by Kurosaki’s fight with a nasty hollow, Kisuke Urahara had been very quick to offer you a part-time job and temporary lodging when it was obvious that a standard Shinigami memory replacement device was not going to work on you. Needless to say, it was proving to be an interesting semester.

“Don’t even think about it, Grimmjow!” Ichigo said, yanking the bag in his hand out of Grimmjow’s reach and shoving the rest of the cookie he was holding into his mouth. “Inooeh made ‘ese ‘er me!”

You snickered as Grimmjow lunged for the small paper bag in Ichigo’s hand and an impromptu game of ‘keep-away’ broke out. You unrolled the top of a similar looking paper bag and inhaled deeply, your eyes rolling back a little as the smell of freshly baked cookies- ordinary double chocolate chunk you were relieved to see- filled your nostrils. You delicately picked one out of the bag as you watched the two men running around Urahara Shōten’s large subterranean training ground like idiots. Your eyes were glued to their shirtless forms as you took a bite of the cookie, half moaning at the taste. “Seems like someone is really enjoying their lunch break,” Your boss’s knowing voice came from over your left shoulder, making you jump. You could hear the smirk in his obnoxiously cheery voice which was made more obnoxious by the way he was now chuckling at you from behind his fan. “Perhaps I should start charging admission.”

“Is that really necessary, Urahara-san? You coulda made me choke, sneaking up on me like that,” you grumbled before taking a drink of water to wash down the bits of cookie trying to stick to your back teeth. You turned your attention back to the blue-haired former Espada. You watched as Grimmjow tackled Ichigo, who had deftly grabbed his last cookie from the bag a split second before Grimmjow shredded it into paper confetti. You took another bite of your cookie, unable to stop the little hum of appreciation and the following sigh of contentment. “Was that in response to the cookie or the Arrancar? I’m guessing the latter could probably get a stronger response,” Urahara murmured from just behind your ear before giggling and side stepping the elbow you threw at him before it could connect with its intended target. You glared at him over your shoulder, shoving the rest of the cookie into your mouth. He just smiled at you from behind his fan with saccharin sweetness… from a safe distance.

“Yeah, well I didn’t really want any of that cookie anyway. The stuff that woman of yours cooks always smells funny,” Grimmjow huffed. You turned back around to see the two men, sweaty and dusty, walking back in your direction. “Hey, watch it, Grimmjow!” Ichigo said sharply. “Say whatever the hell you want about me, but don’t run your mouth about Inoue or I’ll beat your ass again.” “Tch! When d’ya ever ‘beat my ass’?” Grimmjow shot back, then mumbled, “That one time doesn’t count. That bastard Nnoitra decided butt in.” Ichigo just looked at him, brow arched. You pulled the remaining cookie from your bag as they walked up. Grimmjow was giving the treat in your hand the side eye while very much pretending not to as he leaned down a few feet in front of you to pick up his jacket. You took another drink of water, contemplating breaking the cookie in half and offering some to Grimmjow when that damnable shopkeeper spoke up again. “Ah~! Looks like someone is interested  _______-san!” You just rolled your eyes as you swished the water around in your mouth. “If you’d like to eat _______-san’s cookie, I’m sure she would be happy to let you if you ask her nicely, Grimmjow-san!” Urahara called in a too innocent sing-song manner. Your eyes went wide and you clapped your hand over your mouth as you spluttered and coughed, struggling to swallow the rest of the water in your mouth without drowning yourself. Your eyes darted over to Ichigo and Grimmjow. Kurosaki was pulling his shirt on, his face bright red as he tried to look anywhere but at you or the Arrancar. Grimmjow, on the other hand, was now openly staring at the cookie in your hand. You could feel the heat radiating from your cheeks all the way up to the tips of your ears.

“Welp! Lunch break is over!” you announced, a little to loudly, while leaping to your feet and shoving the entire cookie into your mouth and ignoring Grimmjow’s startled ‘What the fuck?!.’ You turned and sprinted for the ladder leading up to the shop, then began to climb like you were being chased by a serial killer. You were about halfway to the top when Grimmjow’s voice floated up to your ears. “Fuckin’ pervert!” This was followed by a very satisfying shriek from your boss.

The sun was just setting when you put the last of the dishes away. It was your night to clean up after supper, much to everyone else’s delight. Kurosaki and Grimmjow had been trying to beat the crap out of each other down in the underground training area for the better part of the evening, but after the incident from a couple of days ago, you steadfastly refused to go watch them no matter how much your boss tried to talk you into it. You dried your hands, then grabbed your water bottle and the little paper sack off the counter and headed to your room. This time, you were going to enjoy the cookies Inoue-san sent for you in peace and quiet.

At least you thought you were. You hadn’t been up there five minutes and there was a very loud knock at the door. You furrowed your brow, scowling at the door as you finished pulling on the little shorts you always slept in. “Just a second!” you hollered, pulling your tee shirt back on as a second volley of impatient knocking rattled your door. Clothing in place, you stomped over to the door and slid it open. “Look, Urahara-tencho, I’ve finished everything, so whatever this is about, it can wait until tomo— Oh!” You interrupted yourself with a surprised yelp as six feet of blue-haired Arrancar muscled his way past you and into your room without preamble or invitation. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, mouth ajar as he stood there, examining your space with interest. His eyes landed on the little bag with the familiar bakery logo and he quickly looked away, shuffling his feet and turning those intense blue eyes on you. “Gr- Grimmjow! Umm… I, ah… Is there something I can, uh, help you with?” you finally managed, your hand still on the open door. “You weren’t there today. Why?” he demanded. Your eyebrows rose in response to his terse question. He’d actually notice your absence? A few little butterflies took wing inside your stomach at the thought, but you firmly ignored them. “I- I had extra things to do today,” you lied, smiling weakly. You could tell by the look on Grimmjow’s face that he wasn’t buying it. “I mean, I have school and today was my day to wash dishes and clean the kitchen and there was stock and—“ Your babbling was cut off by Grimmjow’s towering presence looming over you as he slid the door shut with a clack. You blinked, and your breath caught in your throat at his sudden nearness. You were alone in a room with a being that could end you in less than two seconds and all you could think about was the way he smelled– the scent of his styling products plus something nice that you couldn’t place– and how much you wanted to reach up and touch the markings under his preternaturally blue eyes. He was making it very difficult for you to focus as he stared down at you with one brow cocked, silently calling your bullshit. “Okay, l-look, Grimmjow, I just needed a break. I didn’t feel like being harassed by my boss tonight.” That part was true at least.

“So it ain’t got nothin’ to do with those cookies?” Grimmjow tossed his head in the direction of the bakery bag sitting on your night table. “C-cookies?” you squeaked, a mental picture conjured by Urahara’s perverted sense of humor and Grimmjow’s presence in your bedroom floating to the forefront of your mind unbidden. You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. Other places… not so much.

“Yeah. Cookies,” he said shortly, the tiniest bit of color gracing his cheeks as he remembered Kurosaki’s mumbled explanation of Urahara’s double entendre and why you had seen yourself out so abruptly. “As in those cookies,” he clarified, pointing this time. “You know, the ones ya been stealin’ from me for the last month. “Wait. Wha-? Stealing?!?” He seemed amused rather than angry, and your indignant response only served to widen his cocky smirk.

“Yeah. Stealin’. So I came to take what’s mine.” Grimmjow took a step closer to you, standing so near that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You took a step back, unsure if it was prompted by fear of the Arrancar or the fear that you might do something stupid, like reach out and run a finger over the scar that disappeared beneath his half zipped top. “Kurosaki’s woman used to bring somethin’ for both of us… ‘til a couple of weeks after you showed up.” “Oh.” You weren’t really sure what to do with that information. “So... you think that I’m taking your cookies?” You scrunched up your nose, feeling that this whole situation was bordering on ridiculous. “But I never really see Inoue-san! She always drops them off with…” You grit your teeth in sudden realization, then looked up at Grimmjow. From the look on his face, he’d come to the same conclusion. “Urahara!” “That pervy bastard!” you both growled in unison. You both looked at one another for a moment, then you sighed heavily and turned to retrieve that bag of cookies. Your fucking boss had been giving you the cookies just to start drama. “I’d like to say I’m shocked by this… but I’m not,” you grumbled. You held your arm out toward Grimmjow, bag in hand. “Here. I’m sorry for the confusion.” “Tch! The fuck you sorry for?” Grimmjow was glaring daggers at the door, his ire clearly reserved for your boss, you were relieved to note. He stopped trying to bore a hole through the walls with his eyes long enough to look down and unroll the top of the sack. There was a look of mild surprise on his face as he fished out two cookies and held them out to you. “There’s four. Here. Take ‘em,” he ordered, practically shoving the chocolatey treats into your hands. The next thing he fished out of the bag was a small piece of paper, a note. Grimmjow squinted at it, then turned it upside down and squinted some more before thrusting the paper into your face. “Read it. I can’t make out that pervy bastard’s handwriting.” In truth, Urahara had very neat, precise handwriting, which meant Grimmjow probably couldn’t read all the kanji. You wisely kept your suspicions to yourself and took the note. “ _____-san~!” you began to read aloud. “By this time I’m sure you have company, so I’ll keep it brief. I normally wouldn’t resort to such trickery”— you snorted at that statement — “but your presence in the training grounds seems to be quite the distraction for Grimmjow-san—“ Your eyes darted up and caught the murderous look on Grimmjow’s face so you quickly continued. “—and I fear that you will strain your eyes during your increasingly long breaks, so I thought it best to arrange for the two of you to have a private meeting so you can...” Your eyes scanned ahead and you stopped reading aloud abruptly, your face going bright pink. “I’m gonna kill ‘im,” Grimmjow growled. “Not if I get to him first,” you ground out between clenched teeth as you tossed the cookies and note onto your nightstand. You stalked past Grimmjow and reached for the door but were brought up short by Grimmjow’s hand wrapping around your arm. “Where the fuck you think you’re goin’?”

“To kill my boss,” you said between clenched teeth. “Okay. Maim. I need the paycheck,” you corrected, pulling against his grip.

The ‘Tch’ was all the warning you got before Grimmjow yanked on your arm, pulling you face first into his chest. For a moment, all you could do was blink in startled astonishment and rub your nose. Your mind immediately noted how solid he was, and how warm, much warmer than you’d expected for some sort of… ghost or spirit or whatever. Your thoughts took a hard right turn toward the gutter, and you could feel the heat creeping into your cheeks. You fervently hoped that they weren’t as pink as you felt like they were because you realized that he was saying something, meaning you had to look him in the face again any second now. “… ‘cause you can see him don’t mean you can take him in a fight, so you let me handle your boss.” Grimmjow’s words carried their typical condescension, but you could swear that his tone was a little protective. You shuffled back a step, mouth half open to protest, but it snapped shut again as your head was tipped back by Grimmjow’s finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Pay attention when I’m talkin’ to you, woman, or I-” Grimmjow arched a brow at you, not bothering to finish his sentence as he studied your face, a wolfish grin breaking out at the sight of your flushed cheeks.

“Heh. What’s a matter? Your face is all red,” he taunted, his voice dropping to a rumbling baritone as he leaned down to put his face closer to yours. “N-nothing’s wrong! Except that you have me by the arm,” you huffed, your face giving Grimmjow the lie by turning a deeper shade of red. You half-heartedly tried to jerk your arm out of his grasp, a futile gesture you knew, but your pride demanded that you at least make a show of it. Truthfully, you really weren’t all that invested in getting away, not that you were going to let him know that. He’d just be an insufferable arrogant ass about it any time you came down to watch him face off with Kurosaki. “You’re a shitty liar, ya know that?” Grimmjow’s grin had expanded into that feral sort of look he got during a spar. You swallowed hard. Part of you knew you should be terrified of that look. However, most of you found it incredibly sexy, and right now all his attention was on you. All your attention was on him, too, and you just couldn’t keep your eyes from dropping to his lips. It was at this point that the absence of his bone mask finally registered. It was a sight you’d never seen before, and you were intrigued. Before you could stop yourself, your hand was halfway to his cheek. You paused, wide eyed and moved to pull your hand away, but Grimmjow had you by the wrist with his other hand before you could. “Gigai,” Grimmjow said in response to your unspoken question. He walked around you, easily turning you with him. “But forget about that. Now tell me, what should I do with a little thief like you, hn?” His voice carried a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Grimmjow leaned down a little more, his brilliant blue eyes boring into yours. “Th-thief?! What do you mean, ‘thief’?!” You protested, your indignant words coming out in a much higher pitch than you would’ve liked. You tried to lean away from him, but only succeeded in losing your balance so that Grimmjow was holding you upright by your arm and your opposite wrist. You didn’t even realize he had been walking you backward until your calf hit the mattress as you stepped back to try and catch yourself. You didn’t think your eyes could go any wider, but they did.

“I mean, I think I deserve a little something to make up for all the cookies you stole over the last few weeks.” His smirk made you want to slap him. Or kiss him. Or both. Definitely both.

 “That wasn’t my fault and you know it!” you shot back instead, turning your head to the side and tilting your chin in a dismissive manner. “Besides, I’ve watched you try to steal Ichigo’s cookies for the last three weeks, so isn’t that a little hypocritical?” “Pfft. I definitely do not want Kurosaki’s ‘cookie.’” Despite what you might say about Urahara, you couldn’t deny that there was a part of your mind that lived in the gutter. You didn’t even try to hide your snicker at Grimmjow’s comment.

“You sure about that? Not that Kurosaki-san has a cookie for you…”

“Oi! Your as bad as that fuckin’ boss of yours, ain’t ya,” Grimmjow growled, now completely up in your face. You had nowhere to go unless you wanted to end up flat on your back on the bed. ‘Might not be so bad…’ the dirty part of your mind suggested helpfully.

“Ya know… that might not be such a bad trade, a cookie for some cookies,” Grimmjow said as if reading your thoughts. He was openly leering at you now.

“I- What?!?” you squeaked.

“Ain’t like I don’t see the way you watch me.” Grimmjow smirked down at you.

“O-of course I watch the fights! It-it’s like… li-like free pay-per-view!” you stammered, too flustered to come up with anything better. Grimmjow obviously wasn’t buying it because his smirk only grew wider.

“Well I sure as fuck don’t see you drooling over Kurosaki.”

“Of course I don’t! He has a girlfriend!” You belatedly realized that you only denied ogling Kurosaki when Grimmjow leaned down to chuckle right next to your ear. Your traitorous body shuddered visibly at the feel of his breath ghosting over the side of your neck. “Heh. I think you’d like that trade more than you’re willin’ to admit,” he whispered in a velvety sort of tone, one that you had never heard from him before. Hell, you didn’t think Grimmjow had it in him to be that… smooth. That was probably why your breath hitched when his hand slid over your shoulder and up your spine until he had a firm grip around the nape of your neck. “Gr-Grimmjow?” You could feel his nose brush your temple as he inhaled your scent. “Holy fuck. You’re fucking serious aren’t you…” you blurted out in disbelief.

“The fuck? You think I wasn’t?”

You didn’t have a chance to answer his question before his mouth was fastened to yours in a demanding kiss that left no doubt about the sincerity of his ‘offer’. Your gasp of surprise left Grimmjow the perfect opening to slide his tongue between your parted lips, his fingers tangling in the back of your hair to tug your head back to a more favorable angle. At first, you couldn’t do anything but let Grimmjow kiss you, but once the shock wore off, you found yourself giving back as good as you got. By the time he was done kissing you breathless, you had one hand under the collar of his jacket, holding onto his shoulder for balance and the other around his waist, fingers splayed out over his back. You felt Grimmjow twitch, like a cat who was getting a good scratch down its spine, and it dawned on you that your hand was over the spot his hollow hole would be if he weren’t in the gigai. With a wicked grin, you flexed your fingers to see if that would get the same result. “Dammit, woman!” Grimmjow growled. Oh! That was certainly a nice response! You did it again, but that was one time too many apparently. Before you could blink, you were on your way down to meet your mattress with Grimmjow looming over you, his knee between yours on the edge of the bed.

“Yes or no?” Grimmjow demanded, “Better tell me ’cause you keep doing shit like that, I’m gonna take it as a yes.” “Yes or…? Oooh. Right. A cookie for cookies,” you breathed. ‘Holy shit… is this really happening?’ you thought. Your mind was reeling. ‘Yep, it’s happening... Say something to him, dammit! Don’t blow it!’ You gave yourself a mental shove, then with the most innocent face you could muster, you let your fingers trail down his spine again. “You mean ‘that shit’?” Your cheekiness prompted Grimmjow to pin your wrists over your head in one of his hands. “Okay, Okay! Yes! Deal!” you hastily consented. “Good girl,” Grimmjow practically purred, nipping at your ear. He continued his way down, lips and tongue and teeth teasing the side of your neck until he reached your collarbone. There, he let his teeth scrape along the sensitive skin before sucking on the spot hard enough that you knew it was going to leave a very obvious bruise. “Ow! What the fuck, Grimmjow?!” you yelped. He chuckled darkly and tugged on the neckline of your shirt to work his way along more of your collarbone, not bothering to give you any other response. He left a few more love bites along the way, but always soothed them with his tongue before moving along. The gentleness of the gesture caught you off guard the first time, making your breath hitch in an embarrassingly loud fashion. You waited for the inevitable teasing from Grimmjow… but it never came, only a low sort of rumble as he reached the limit of how far your tee shirt would stretch. “This one of your favorite shirts or anything?” Grimmjow asked. The sudden questions made you blink. Why the hell was he concerned about your fashion sense now, of all times? “Huh? I mean, not real— Wait! No, Grimmjow don—“ The small part of your brain that was not yet occupied with Grimmjow finally caught up with the situation, but it was too late. The sound of ripping cloth drowned out your strangled cry of protest as he stuck the hem of your shirt between his teeth then used his free hand to give it a good yank, ripping it all the way up to the collar. With a feral grin, he leaned down and caught the collar of your ruined shirt in his teeth and popped it apart the same way. “Was that really necessary?!” you almost shrieked, more from shock than any real outrage. “You tell me,” Grimmjow murmured smugly, his lips already against your neck. He worked his way down and across your other collarbone, leaving patches of colorful flesh to match the other side. By the time he reached your shoulder, you were struggling in his grasp, unable to hold still and unable to completely stifle the little whimpers he drew from you with every new mark he left on our skin. “Hmm, not bad.” Grimmjow smirked as he leaned back to admire his handiwork. You took a look at yourself and groaned. “Grimmjow!” you whined. “My pervy boss is never gonna let me live this down!” You got no sympathy from him; he thought it was funny as hell. “Not my problem,” he said dismissively, reaching down to give your nipple a pinch through your bra. You yelped, and Grimmjow grinned wider. You had a feeling that you’d be making that noise a lot and were immediately proven right as your other nipple got equal attention.

“Who taught you to treat a lady like that?!”

Again, Grimmjow only chuckled at your indignant squawking. “Good thing you ain’t a lady. And don’t gimme that look. You got a mouth on you to put Kurosaki to shame,” he pointed out, running a finger under the edge of your bra. The bra did happen to be a favorite. “Don’t you fucking dare Grimmjow! That one is expensive!” you barked, trying to spare any more of your clothing from getting shredded. “The clasp is right there in the front. Here. Just let go of my hands and I’ll get it,” you offered, wanting the use of your hands, not just to save your bra from becoming a pile of scraps, but also to peel him out of his jacket.

“Nice try sweetheart,” Grimmjow practically purred, his grip on your wrists tightening fractionally. Well, at least he popped the closure of your bra open instead of tearing through it. One out of two wasn’t bad, you supposed. Worries about your bra or the use of your hands or anything else were shoved straight out of your head as Grimmjow wasted no time in reaching up to palm one of your breasts, giving it a firm squeeze. “Oh shit!” The word slipped out before you could check yourself and Grimmjow arched a brow at you, his trademark smirk still plastered on his face. “Like that, do ya?” he asked smuggly. “Ya ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” With that, Grimmjow let his head drop to your chest, his mouth closing over the tip of your other breast with a single hard suck before he began teasing the hardened peak with his tongue. His hand left off its soft massaging in favor of using his fingers to torment your other nipple, alternating between circling it with the calloused pad of his thumb and rolling it between thumb and forefinger. He mirrored these motions with his mouth, licking and sucking with the occasional scrape of teeth and a corresponding sharp pinch to match. You seriously wished you had an arm free to throw across your face because there was no keeping your mouth closed around the clipped moans and soft gasps you were making. You squirmed under him, pulling against his hold on your wrists again with no better luck this time than the last. “Ah! You could at least… mmnh!... take off some clothes,” you whined between the naughty little noises you were trying to hold back. Grimmjow lifted his head to look you in the eyes, snickering openly as he leered at you.

“Hmn. Somebody’s soundin’ a little desperate.” His tone had a mocking edge that made you want to slap him. You tugged against his grip on your wrists on reflex and his grin widened.

“Bastard,” you huffed under your breath, jaw clenched in frustration. His grin widened when your words were followed by a sharp intake of breath as he gave your pebbled nipple a hard pinch.

Grimmjow leaned in, his lips brushing your ear, his voice dropping half an octave as he practically purred, “Aww, what’s wrong, kitten? Mad that you can’t use those claws of yours?” He squeezed your wrists just enough to make his point; he was the one in control. “Hmn. Might be more fun to let ya.”

With that, he went after your neck again, but this time he was less interested in marking you up and more interested in working his way back down your body with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, stopping to lick the curve of your breast before lifting his head again just long enough to shoot you another one of his trademark smug smiles.

Grimmjow knew exactly what he was doing to you as he dropped his head and latched on to your other nipple, sucking hard before swirling his tongue around it. Your back arched off the bed in a manner he found most satisfying, for all that you were trying to act unaffected. The feel of him lapping at your already over sensitized nipple wrung a high-pitched whine out of you that you couldn’t quite repress. This turned into a gasp as his hand followed the line of your ribs, warm palm caressing your belly with a gentleness that surprised you as it dropped lower. Then his fingers curled under the waistband of your little pajama shorts and he gave them a sharp yank, pulling them down to your knees without even lifting you up. So much for gentleness.

You watched the expression on Grimmjow’s face change as he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes glued to the damp spot on your panties. He took a long, slow breath through his nose, and his entire expression shifted to something less smug and more… hungry.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. You followed his line of sight and felt yourself turning a nice shade of tomato red, but that didn’t keep a smug grin of your own from creeping onto your face. Before he could get his hand back to its intended destination, you took advantage of his moment of distraction to plant both of your feet squarely in the middle of his chest. “The hell, woman!” he growled, clearly not happy about being blocked from his next meal. “Ditch some clothes,” you insisted defiantly, despite Grimmjow still pinning your wrists firmly to the mattress. You toed the zipper on the front of his outfit. “Oh, come on!” You cringed inwardly at the whine in your words, but went on anyway. “If I’m giving up my… uh, cookie, the least you could do is give me something nice to look at!” “Tch! You sayin’ I’m not nice to look at like this?” he goaded, making a grab for your ankles with his free hand. You were just quick enough that he could only grab one of your feet. If he wanted the other one, he would have to let go of your wrists. You ignored his attempt to ruffle your feathers and gave him a lazy smile as you ran a foot over his abs lightly, right where his hollow hole was when he was out of his gigai, never mind that teasing him like that is what had gotten your arms pinned over your head in the first place. “Dammit, woman!” Grimmjow growled, trying to evade your touch, but he couldn’t exactly get out of your reach without letting go of you, and he wasn’t ready to admit defeat. You weren’t sure if you were brave or just stupid to taunt an arrancar this way, but in the moment it hardly mattered. You ran your foot over his abs again, this time bringing it all the way back to the center of his chest where you once again poked at the zipper with your toe. “Please?” You pasted on a doe-eyed expression. “I promise I’ll be good,” you added in a sugary whisper, leaving it open to interpretation whether you were referring to behaving well… or performing well. Grimmjow snorted. “I bet you will.”

PART TWO!

TW: SMUUUT 🗣️, Grimmy gets pretty rough, a little bit of degradation, breeding, the works :D

Grimmjow couldn't stand you.

You were a brat if there ever was one and far too comfortable speaking to him with disrespect on a daily basis. He couldn't stand you, but every time you spoke to him brazenly, mocked him, taunted him, and infuriated him, it made him want to stuff that big mouth of yours with his cock. He couldn't stand you, but if and when he got the chance, he was going to show you what he did to brats like you. He didn't need to like you to fuck you good and hard like you deserved.

He was already annoyed enough today, and there you were, as usual, saying something to piss him off even more. "Hey, quick question, do you ever stop talking?"

His eyes widened, anger flaring like scorching blue flames. You enjoyed just how easy it was to get under his skin. He was so simple, fists clenching at his sides before one of them slammed on the table in front of you. "What did you just say?! Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"I guess that means no," you sighed, suppressing an amused grin.

The truth was, you liked riling him up and did so intentionally. You liked watching the veins swell in his hands, arms and forehead because it was hot. He was hot. Watching him get mad had you fantasizing about just how roughly he'd manhandle you, how he'd meanly bully his cock into your tight cunt, how he'd have you crying and gagging on it. You weren't going to stop pushing his buttons until he was undoing yours.

"You're lucky I don't hit girls," he growled, his hands twitching, clenching and unclenching as if he was currently resisting the urge.

"That's too bad," you said, smirking lazily.

*

*

*

Later, he proved to be a liar. He was hitting you, his hand coming down hard over and over again to smack your ass as he drilled into you from behind. He still didn't know how to stop talking, though you didn't mind it much now, clenching around him while he yanked you up by your hair to spew filth directly into your ear.

"Not so cocky now, are you? Huh?" He panted, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. "Where's that smirk, little girl? Your snide comments? Haven't you got anything to say?"

You couldn't reply, not with how cruelly he was pounding into you, his tip striking hard and deep, as furious as he was. All you could do was moan and whine dumbly. You may have bested him with your words earlier, but in the bedroom, he'd definitely won, just the way you wanted him to.

"That's what I thought," he laughed when you didn't respond. "Can't handle my fat cock and talk back to me at the same time. You're too busy making a mess of my sheets and whining like a bitch."

He threw you back into the mattress, pinning you down with his weight as his hips snapped against your ass. He thought he was teaching you a lesson, but it was your personal heaven, getting caged in by his big biceps and having your pussy ruined by his throbbing length. You could hardly breathe, suffocating under his weight, head under water with nothing but the sound of his grunts and growls right into your ear. You thought it'd be a pleasant way to die.

Then he suddenly left you, and before you had the chance to mourn the loss of his heat and fullness in between your legs, he was manhandling you onto your back, folding you into a mating press and fucking back into you, smirking maliciously at your dumbfounded expression.

"I want to see what you look like when you cum all over my cock," he snarled in explanation before wrapping his hand around your neck to hold you in place. "Maybe I'll fill you up. You want that, slut?"

"Yes!" You choked out, eyes rolling back as he stretched your legs to their max, going impossibly deeper inside you than he had been. Each thrust felt like a shock to your system, a terrifying yet exciting loss of control of your body.

He was shamelessly staring at himself thrusting in and out of you, at your tits bouncing, and at the tears leaking out of your eyes. It made him go feral, the sight of your defeat. He knew you were all talk, so outspoken yet so easy to break. It was music to his ears how pathetic you sounded. Now he just needed you squirting all over him before he unleashed his load into you. Only then would it truly be his victory.

He knew by the high-pitched squeals and whines you were making that you were close, and so he stayed focused and didn't hold back, maintaining his brutal pace until your legs were trembling, glassy eyes squeezing shut and loud mouth crying out as if you were being tortured. He lowered himself against you, fucking you through your orgasm as you wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding him to his word that he would fill you up. Moments later, he did, biting your neck and groaning into it as he twitched inside of you, shooting thick, white ropes of his seed into your walls. He pulled out to watch it leak out of you, mesmerized by how cute your bratty pussy was with his juices oozing out.

He collapsed at your side. He'd finally bested you, finally taught you a lesson, and you'd finally learned just how good of a fuck he was. You stressed him out, but he had finally taken that stress out on you. For the first time in a while, he felt at ease, one could even say peaceful. Your body and your energy was a much needed break for his nervous system, and he was starting to discover a newfound appreciation for you as you quietly came down from your high beside him.

He watched you carefully as you rose from his bed, excusing yourself to clean up the mess between your legs. He chuckled to himself as he watched you limp away, like a fawn attempting to walk for the first time. He supposed you were actually pretty cute.

No. It made him start to worry when you were taking a long time in his bathroom, wondering if you'd come back and get dressed to go. It wasn't like it was often he got to just lay there, skin to skin with another person. No one touched him unless it was in battle or in a sexual way, and now he found himself yearning for your body against his again, in a more gentle way this time.

He pretended to look unbothered when you finally came back, pretended that he wasn't elated when you took your place back in his bed, curling up next to him.

You decided to be nice to him just this once. "That was amazing," you complimented, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his mouth that made him freeze. "Thank you."

He felt irritated again, though he couldn't figure out why. "Are you fucking with me?" He glared at you.

"No," you responded calmly. "If I was lying, I wouldn't be on the verge of passing out right now," you giggled tiredly. "I came so hard I'm exhausted."

You yawned, and it gave Grimmjow a funny feeling in his chest. He yanked the blankets up over your naked form. "Get some sleep then." You could tell he found it difficult to be affectionate. It was kind of cute in its own weird way.

You draped an arm over his chest anyway, pushing him out of his comfort zone. "You gonna sleep with me?"

"Doesn't seem like you're giving me much of a choice," he grumbled.

You pressed sleepy kisses into his jaw, smiling against him as you felt his body soften beneath you. "No, I'm not. I like to cuddle after."

"Damn brat." He aggressively wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against him and holding your hip. "You better not snore."

You gasped, a wide, almost painful smile spreading on your lips over the fact that this grumpy arrancar was seriously snuggling you. "Me? A lady? Never!"

"Yeah, yeah. I hear you snore once and I'm tossing you off the side of the bed." You doubted the hand currently caressing your torso would be used to throw you off the bed.

"You're such a gentleman."

"I am, letting you stink up my bed like this." He grinned, adjusting his body so that you could press into him more comfortably.

"Stop being mean to me, I'm soft!" You pouted playfully.

"You? Don't make me laugh." He murmured against your head.

You smiled contentedly, letting your eyes rest, finally having him where you wanted him. "Okay, I'm going to bed now, so kiss my forehead and tell me goodnight."

"You're a real piece of work," he groaned, as if he wasn't dying for an excuse to press his lips to you.

He did exactly that, bringing his mouth to your temple more gently than you ever could imagine him doing and pulling you impossibly closer before saying, "goodnight, princess."

"Goodnight, my prince."

He would've cringed, had anyone else said it, but hearing you call him your prince, he swore he could feel his heart growing. He didn't know he even had one before you. He was glad you were starting to doze off, glad that you didn't witness his cheeks flushing with admiration.

Grimmjow still couldn't stand you, only now because it was gonna be a real pain in the ass dealing with these feelings he had for you.

Hey, can you write about Aizen being a girl dad and doting on her. Y/n and Aizen being parents and enjoying that parenthood together. The daughter looking like y/n but having similar wits as him.

Ohhh it's been a long time since I wrote Papa Aizen! Thank you for your request!

CW: this is SFW! Also human Aizen because I've been in a mood for him lately!

At his core, Aizen was a man of science and logic. He knew how genetics worked, he understood it at the cellular and molecular level.

Yet it amazed him every time he looked at his daughter, how she was a spitting image of you. The way her eyes lit up when he picked her up from daycare to the way she smiled or even cried – it was, much to Aizen's dismay, uncanny.

Yet even with your looks, your slight mannerisms (she was her own person after all – that much Aizen and you instilled into her), she was a clever little girl. It amused him and unnerved you.

Children are like sponges – he wonders what else she'll learn from him.

Today though, was just a simple grocery store run. You had asked Aizen to pick up a few things for dinner and your daughter politely asked if she could come along. Manners were important to him, and it is again, of no surprise, she learned them as well.

"Oh Aizen-san, your daughter is so well-behaved!"

"I never met such a polite child!"

He would smile and nod, thanking them for the compliments, but he always wondered about her - was she like him? Perceiving the world around them a bit differently from the rest? He noticed she would be a bit more protective of you, almost like he was.

Strangers would joke and tease how she was a “mini” version of you, but close friends and family knew she was more like her dear father.

Nonetheless, a grocery run with his daughter would provide some interesting insights. She was still small enough to sit in the cart, but he asked her (politely of course) if she wanted to sit. She nodded her head, and she became queen of the cart.

“Do you remember what mommy asked for?” Aizen quizzed her. The way she bit her lip and thought about it was so eerily like you.

“Green onions!”

“Excellent, what else?”

“Hmm… toys?”

Aizen chuckled, "no, I don't think that's what mommy asked for."

She pouted, but without missing a beat, "but mommy loves playing with me."

Interesting, Aizen thought, how she was using a fact about you to cover her own interests. An amused look crossed his face. "If I remember what mommy said, she asked for mirin."

His daughter opened her mouth to say something, but nodded along, clapping her hands. As he pushed the cart down the aisles, he would stop to look at different items. Without fail, he would see, in the corner of his eye, his daughter picking up an item with great interest, and trying carefully to place it into the cart without him knowing.

And now they were in the bakery, looking at the selection of cakes, pastries and other baked goods on display.

"Daddy, up please!" She pleaded, stretching her arms overhead. And who was Aizen to say no? He carefully picked her up out of the cart and steadied her. Her eyes lit up at the assortment of goods that laid in front of her.

Aizen walked slightly away, near the fresh breads and feigned interest in the variety of loaves. He watched his daughter pick up a pre-sliced cake piece and again, place it carefully in the cart.

Once she was successful, she quickly turned around and spotted him immediately. Rushing towards him, she clung to Aizen's leg. Without even a thought, he picked her up, "did you see anything interesting?" He asked her.

She shook her head, placing it on his shoulder. He could see she was getting tired.

"Then lets go home then, mommy must be waiting for us."

Aizen placed her back in the cart, but also began removing some of the items she had placed before. He could see her slowly blink, struggling to stay awake. He gently patted her head as she began to doze.

But he kept one item in the cart - the slice of cake. It happened to be your favourite. He wondered if it was because of you, or if she had also begun to enjoy the taste as well. Curiosity filled his mind as to what was going through his daughter's mind when she was picking up each item.

But Aizen knew better than to wake a sleeping toddler. Although his daughter was well-mannered, she was still a child, and he knew better than to start a tantrum.

But she groggily woke up as soon as they reached home.

"Welcome home!" You beamed, as you picked your daughter from Aizen. "And did you get everything I asked for?" You asked her.

She nodded her head vigorously, "we did! I also got you a bunch of stuff, mommy!"

"You did? Why don't you show me?"

Aizen couldn't help but smile at the sight of his daughter leading you to the kitchen as he carried the groceries. The three of you began to unpack, but your daughter was beginning to huff.

"Daddy," she whined, "where's all the stuff?"

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about." Aizen lied, wondering what she would do.

She blinked at him - as if your eyes were staring directly at him. He felt a smidge of guilt but held on to his curiosity.

"I got mommy pretty things." She said, her voice cracking, eyes watering instantly.

You looked at the two of them confused, "oh, you don't have to get me anything!" You cooed at her, picking her up. You nuzzled her cheek to comfort her, as she clung on to you tight.

"Did you mean this?" Aizen asked his daughter, holding the cake slice.

She shot up in your arms, "yes! Mommy's favourite!" She giggled.

"You got this for me?" You asked her, "you're too sweet." You smiled, kissing her on her forehead. “Let’s have it together after dinner.”

Aizen had a slight smirk on his face as he continued to observe his daughter. She seemed pleased with your suggestion.

Dinner came with a show, as you watched with amusement as your daughter tried to shove her food on to Aizen’s plate.

“That’s not very nice dear, food is for eating, not playing with.” You chided her. She pouted as she looked at her mess.

“She’s trying to get me full.” Aizen chuckled. “More cake for the two of you.” He smiled, catching on to what she was doing.

Your daughter’s mouth hung open; eyes wide as she got caught, “nuh uh! Daddy you don’t like cake.”

“I do like cake.” Aizen replied calmly, a smile on his face as he wondered where his daughter would go with this. “I especially like the cake mommy makes.”

“Me too! Mommy makes the best cakes.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “you two flatter me so much, how about we make a cake on the weekend?”

Your daughter nodded her head enthusiastically, clapping.

Once dinner was put away and your daughter cleaned up, you brought out the small slice of cake. You cut a piece for your daughter, feeding it to her, but she only took two bites. Aizen himself, didn’t want much of it. You were also full, leaving the remainder for tomorrow. Although your daughter was full, she was excited, “mommy, when is the weekend?”

“A few more days.” You gently patted her head.

“Can it come sooner? I wanna bake a cake with you and daddy now.” She whined.

It was then Aizen realized, the slice of cake wasn’t what she wanted, but to have the three of you make a cake together. He looked at his daughter, who stared back to him, a small smile on her face.

How amusing, Aizen thought, thinking of what other traps and ideas she would have in store for the two of you.

Thanks for your request! I had an idea based off something that happened between my little sister and dad when she was a toddler, but it was hard to write (and I can't see Aizen at WalMart HAHAHA).

I tried to write for another character but Shinji LITERALLY stormed into my room, flipped my desk, threw my laptop, broke my phone, spit on me and DEMANDED I write for him again

*

*

*

You'd been stressing and working long hours lately, catching little sleep. Today was another long one, running on only a few hours of rest. It was hardly evening, and you'd surpassed your manic, delirious phase and were now crashing, nodding off, eyes fluttering closed only for you to snap your head back up and force your eyes to remain peeled. Shinji was thoroughly explaining something to you and you could not for the life of you catch a single word he was saying, each one going in one ear and out the other just as quickly. You tried and failed over and over again to focus. Pain stung your tired eyes and your body felt much heavier than usual, nearly impossible to keep upright.

At first, Captain Hirako hadn't noticed, too involved in the work at hand and talking through something with you. It wasn't until he glanced your way again and noticed how lifeless you looked that something wasn't right.

He stopped mid sentence, not that you were conscious enough to notice, "(Y/N)?" He asked, narrowing his eyes skeptically. "Are you feeling alright?"

Hearing your name coming out of his mouth awakened you, at least enough to snap back to attention for the moment. "Hm? Sorry?" You were too tired to even worry about the harsh look he was giving you.

Shinji sighed. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

He stood abruptly from where he sat, approaching you. He got on one knee before you, looking up to you with concern. "Have you been getting enough sleep? Or is something else bothering you?"

"I'm fine, really." You lazily waved a dismissive hand, lying about your unwell state out of habit. "Can you just repeat the last thing you said?"

"I think we should call it a day," he ignored you. "I'll walk you home."

"Captain." You forced yourself to stand, trying to prove that you were of sound mind. You couldn't have yourself getting in trouble. "I don't think that's necessary. The task at hand is more important."

Shinji slowly rose, looking stern. "It is necessary. We can't do quality work if you can hardly stay awake."

He moved away to gather his belongings. You stayed where you were, guilt and worry waking you a little more and adding to your list of pains. It was too late. You were in trouble.

Speaking less formally now and more as his friend, you asked him, "are you mad at me?" You frowned while you waited for him to look at you, shuffling in place nervously.

"Of course I'm not mad," Shinji laughed at your puppy-dog behavior. "Just what kind of a guy do you think I am?"

"I wasn't even listening to you." You hung your head in shame. "I've failed you today."

"Don't be dramatic," he continued. "Taking care of yourself is the most important thing you can do - not this 'task at hand' nonsense you're spewing." You noticed that he had gathered your belongings as well while you were hesitating, holding them along with his. "Let's get going."

You followed him out of the office, a dreamy swell of adoration in your chest. "Oh, thank you."

*

*

*

You stood outside of your door with Shinji. The sun had set a little while ago, painting the landscape in the early stages of darkness. You could still see the Captain perfectly clear, turning to face him.

"Thank you again," you told him, voice coming out soft and wispy in your exhausted state.

"Let's meet again tomorrow at noon," he said seriously, reluctantly passing you your belongings. "Sleep in if you can."

"I will do my best." You forced a smile.

Neither of you moved. "Do you need anything?" Shinji asked gently. "Some tea or medicine to help you sleep?"

You were so tired, you doubted you needed anything to get to bed. "Tea would be nice actually." You supposed you were just looking for a chance to spend more time with him, even if it meant having to stay awake a little longer.

You'd always adored Shinji, and that adoration was further highlighted in moments like this, where he was putting you before your Soul Reaper work, encouraging you to take care of yourself and assisting you there.

He smiled, though it came out in that smirky way of his, like he as holding back laughter. Then he opened your door and went inside like he owned the place and was inviting you in. You followed, haphazardly discarding your belongings along the way.

You sat in your small kitchen as Shinji flowed about to make your tea, asking you simple questions here and there to navigate your kitchen. You were nodding off again when he placed the steaming mug before you, sitting across from you with his own cup to enjoy.

You sat in a comfortable silence with him, sipping tea. You were about halfway through your beverage when Shinji was at your side, his hand on your arm prepared to pull you up. You realized then you had been sitting there with your eyes closed, poised to pass out at any moment sitting in your kitchen.

"Let's get you to bed," he chuckled quietly, his voice sounding distant when you were halfway to the dream world. You loved that voice, trusted that voice. Right now it was a beacon of light for you to follow to get to sleep.

He pulled you out of your chair and stayed glued to your side, holding you upright, as the two of you went the short distance to your bedroom. As soon as you caught sight of your bed you went forward, unceremoniously collapsing onto the mattress.

"Do you have pjs?" He asked you, gesturing to your many drawers, though your face was buried in your comforter.

At the sound of pjs, you shot up, stumbling like a drunk over to the drawer that held your comfortable night clothing. You made quick work of pulling it open and grabbing the first thing on top, which happened to be a rather scandalous, frilly, girly nightdress. Without thinking, immediately after you slammed your dresser shut you began dropping your uniform, undressing right then and there to hurriedly get into the cozy material.

"What are you - you maniac!" Shinji quickly spun around and crossed his arms over his chest. Even if you didn't care or notice, he wasn't going to take advantage of you while you were in such a vulnerable state and watch you while you got naked. He didn't turn back to look at you again until he heard the sound you thumping back into bed, your Soul Reaper uniform left messily where you had dropped it from your body.

His jaw dropped when he saw you, splayed out on your stomach, wearing that ridiculously short gown that hardly covered anything. He felt like he was being tested by the universe, catching the slightest glimpse of your panties peaking out beneath your pajamas as you lay with one leg hiked up and the other hanging straight down.

He sighed in frustration, looking away from your ass and to your defeated figure as a whole atop your mattress. He came forward, scooping you up to pull you further up the bed so he could pull the comforter over you and hide your curves from his view. You stirred and turned to help him, flipping over to tuck your knees in, making room to push your legs under the heap of blankets.

When he saw your frontside, he was sure then. He was definitely being tested. Not only did the nightdress hardly cover your backside, but your cleavage was on full display too, the dainty, girlish fabric hardly covering each of your breasts. Shinji had never seen so much of your body with the modest way you wore your uniform. Now, one of your tits was threatening to spill out of the tiny strap holding it up, and Shinji was torn between looking away and trying to help tuck you in. All the while you were oblivious to his mental struggles, scooting in and pulling the comforter up to your chest, where your breasts were still exposed. Feeling perverted, Shinji grabbed it and yanked it up the rest of the way to your chin.

"Shinji?" You asked with your eyes closed.

"Yeah?" He gulped, prepared for the worst. You were about to call him out for being a perv, for staring at your ass and your tits while you were just so sleepy and oblivious.

But then, "you're the only one looking out for me," you mumbled tiredly and affectionately.

The Captain was able to breathe again, smiling at your cute, delirious talk. "Get some rest, okay?"

You went on. "I'll miss you."

"Miss me?" He laughed quietly.

You'd have never spoken this way to him when you were of right mind. He knew he should tell you to stop talking and go to bed before you spewed something you regretted, but he was too curious and admiring how sweet and fragile you looked and sounded while you were drifting off to sleep, wearing your revealing, princess-like nightdress. He was enjoying seeing this other side of you a little too much to be in such a hurry to leave. Maybe he really was perverted, perverted for your heart for sure.

"Yeah. Until I see you again tomorrow," you explained. "I hope I see you in my dreams."

If he was just as delirious, he'd tell you that he'd miss you too, that he missed you every time you were apart. "You really are tired," he said instead, laughing uncomfortably.

You opened your eyes slightly to watch him. "Will you stay until I fall asleep?" You asked hopefully.

He frowned, at war with himself. "I don't think that will take very long."

"Will you?"

It wasn't possible for him to tel you no when you looked at him like that. "I will."

"Thank you. I-" you wanted to say something badly, but the words never came.

"Yeah?" Shinji raised his eyebrows expectantly, in impatient anticipation.

You shook your head to yourself, fending off whatever thought that was trying to escape. "Thank you," you repeated again, shutting your eyes for the final time tonight.

Shinji was right that it didn't take long for you to fall asleep. He waited and listened for the steady, rhythmic sound of your breathing before rising, stopping to take one last look at your sleeping form, to sear this into his memory. As softly as he could, he reached out to push some stray hairs out of your face, yearning to do more, but knowing that he couldn't.

"Sleep tight, lovebug. I hope I see you in my dreams too."

When you woke the next morning, feeling rested at last, the first thing you noticed was that your room smelt pleasantly like Shinji, bringing back memories of the previous night. The last you remembered was sitting at the kitchen table, having tea with him. You wondered what transpired afterwards, how you got to bed, and were surprised that you were so exhausted you couldn't even properly remember.

When you saw what you were wearing underneath the comforter, you cringed at yourself, hoping that he hadn't seen your pjs and if he had, embarrassed that you had looked so slutty in front of the Captain. The sight of yourself mixed with the ghost of his scent in the room made you feel like a pervert. You were already starting to prepare an explanation for yourself, thinking of telling him it was laundry day, but then, how could you even bring this up to him? Maybe it'd be best to ignore it altogether, pretend like it hadn't happened, though you knew you wouldn't ever be able to forget.

And then when you got out of bed and saw the tea cups in the sink, you were thinking of him again. Shinji Hirako had already invaded your mind nearly every moment of every day, and now he had invaded your personal space as well, making it increasingly difficult to stop thinking of him inappropriately. It made your heart ache with desire and longing, his fleeting scent, his tea cup next to yours. He was just here, and you already missed him, already wanted to see him again. It was agony, having to smell his presence in your home when he wasn't here.

You looked at the clock, remembering his words about meeting at noon. It was still morning. That didn't stop you from pulling on your uniform and robes, scarfing down a quick and simple breakfast, wanting to see him more than you wanted to rest. You headed for his office earlier than you were supposed to. You knew he'd be there already, and you were way too excited.

Something needed to be done about this.