#ichigo kurosaki fluff

[jinwoosungs]

{ 126 }

john wayne.

ichigo kurosaki x fem.reader

notes: unedited; post lost agent arc, but pre thousand year blood war arc; may be a little canon divergent. a self indulgent story where the reader doesn't know whether she's afraid of him- or in love with him.

{ baby, he's got to be crazy | living like he's john wayne | always facing the world, a-chasing the girl | baby, he's got to be crazy }

there were moments where ichigo kurosaki absolutely intimidated and frightened you, and you did all you could to avoid him like the plague whilst spending your school years at karakura high.

in your eyes, ichigo was someone who always got into fights and had the appearance of the usual delinquent. his orange hair was difficult to ignore, seeming to capture the essence of a sunset itself. despite never once sharing a class with him, the times that you did pass by him, his features were always drawn up in a scowl.

sometimes, being in the same room with ichigo felt stifling. it was as though there was a power felt emanating from him, one that you couldn't quite explain or put a finger on. all you knew was that he was strong- much stronger than he let on.

as you walked through the hallways after finishing your club duties for the day, you cling to your bag while looking out the window. the skies were bathed in warm, gentle hues of the sunset, and the sight was so beautiful to you that you had to take a chance to stop and admire it.

while looking at the setting sun, your mind wanders to ichigo, feeling your heart twist a bit in anticipation while remembering the conversation you last had with your friends.

you recall a time when you hung out with your friends, orihime and tatsuki, simply studying for your respective exams when orihime cheerfully called out your name and asks, "ne, what do you think of kurosaki-kun?"

you look back at her with your eyes wide, "huh? why would you ask me about him all of a sudden?"

a strange expression crosses her features, but she simply shakes her head, appearing sheepish while placing a strand of her red hair behind her ear, "well, i was just wondering, that's all! it's just, you seem to be doing a lot to avoid him..."

you felt your cheeks turn warm in embarrassment, "i have not been avoiding him! w-well, not intentionally, at least." you cough, trying to hide how awkward you felt. you didn't think anyone would notice how you spent most of your high school years not interacting with ichigo at all, managing to reach your final year without a hitch.

"why? did that jerk do something to you?" tatsuki was quick to come to your defense, "you can tell me if that idiot did something to upset you, and i will gladly have a word with him."

you try to diffuse the situation, holding up your hands in protest while calming your friends down, "no please, tatsuki, there's no need to do anything to him! it's just... i don't know, something about him...scares me."

your friends remain silent, waiting for you to explain. you swallow thickly while running a hand through your own hair, "he hasn't done anything wrong, but sometimes, when he's near, i can feel his presence. there's something... foreboding about him, i guess. like, something that makes him not all... human."

the warmth felt against your cheeks becomes even more prominent, making you shake your head as you slapped both of your hands against them. "please, i'm sorry, don't tell kurosaki i said all of that. i know it makes no sense and-"

"no no, that's totally understandable! b-but still, kurosaki isn't that scary at all!"

"i agree with orihime, he's really a dummy who doesn't know how to act normally around people sometimes-"

"and he has a heart of gold, with his desire to protect everyone."

oddly enough, both orihime and tatsuki did their best to convince you that ichigo was just a normal guy with an unfriendly face, and you had to hold back your giggling, promising them that you'd try to speak to ichigo when the chance came up.

thinking back on it now, you kind of regretted your promise to them. something about ichigo made you so nervous, and you found that you couldn't think straight when he was around. you sigh and rest your head against the window, playing various scenarios of you greeting ichigo, just to see if you could do it or not.

"hey, are you okay?"

in the midst of your reverie, you freeze, hearing that familiar deep voice calling out to you. moving your head away from the window, you look to your right to see ichigo himself. he wore his usual school uniform while placing a hand within the confines of his pockets, his posture slightly slouched when he casually approaches you.

"are you feeling sick? do you need to go to the infirmary?"

you couldn't breathe, meeting with his brown eyes as you could see a softness in them you had never seen before. had he always looked this beautiful? and just why was your heart suddenly racing now?

whether it was out of fear, or something else, you couldn't say for sure.

when he was directly in front of you, you found that you lost all confidence, quickly apologizing to him with every intention of leaving him. your mind was a muddled mess, and you felt so flustered that you didn't know what to do.

you merely took two steps away from him when you felt something pulling you back, encircling your wrist as you were trapped against a lithe form and the wall.

ichigo's scowl was back, and he kept you against the wall. "are you afraid of me?"

you truly felt mortified at that moment, unable to say a word to him as you felt dizzy from his proximity. you could smell the faint scent of his cologne, and his body heat was seeping into you, making it harder for you to concentrate.

your heart was beating painfully out of your chest, and you couldn't say a word to him as you ended up looking away from him. ichigo ends up clicking his tongue, finally pushing himself away from you. with ichigo no longer pressing you up against the wall, you look at his steadily retreating form, not daring to move until he was out of your sight.

you waited for several minutes, remaining in the hallway while mentally berating yourself. why did you have to feel so weird when it came to him? what made you feel this way, and were you really afraid of him-

or was it something else?

you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't realize just how low the sun was beginning to set. with a gasp, you take a hold of your bag and made a mad dash toward the exit, practically running home in hopes that nightfall wouldn't come.

your breathing was labored, with your footsteps pounding across the concrete streets of karakura town. all you wanted to do was go home and be alone with your thoughts, but something stops you from moving forward.

you halt your movements, frowning as you strained your ears to hear your surroundings. you swore that as you ran, something was following you.

blood was rushing through your ears as you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins, initiating your fight or flight response.

that's her...

a cruel voice echoes into the air, filling your veins with ice as you shakily take a step forward, feeling something ominous coming from behind you.

this has to be her... his heart.

if we destroy what is most important to him, we'll destroy his heart...

you gasp and tried to force your legs to move forward once more, now running across the empty streets of karakura when a slash was felt tearing through the fabric of your uniform. you whimper, looking behind you to see a thin slice of blood appearing on the side of your abdomen.

a sudden tremor was what ultimately brings you back down to your knees with a scream, the pain all but masked due to the anxiety and fear that was felt coursing through your veins. as you were looking forward, you were able to make out two, large fuzzy shadows. a skeletal mask hid their features, and you felt an all-consuming sense of despair coursing through you-

because this...this was how you were going to die.

the looming shadows were seen leaning down, and you could only bring yourself to close your eyes, awaiting for the painful death-

"NO! NOT HER!"

your throat becomes dry when you hear the sounds of his voice, forcing you to look up when you saw ichigo dressed in all-black while wielding a thin blade. the shadows face him, ready to attack when he brings his sword down on one of the shadows. it swiftly goes down in one hit while ichigo flows gracefully to the next shadow, not even giving it a single chance to reach you as he pierces through its mask.

a shrill cry echoes throughout the night, and your heart was still pounding with fear even as ichigo's body shielded you from the destruction of those shadow like creatures.

time slowed down to a crawl, and only when you could no longer see the outline of those shadows did you fall to your knees. your ears were ringing, and you found it hard to focus, unable to react even when ichigo was calling out your name.

a familiar warmth was felt enveloping you in a gentle embrace, and you found yourself falling back against a hard chest. your eyes were distant, unable to truly see ichigo. his frown was back, and you heard him let out a soft curse before leaning in closer to you, placing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss.

the sensation of his chapped lips against yours was what ultimately brings you back down to earth, grounding you as you responded eagerly to his kiss. with a soft sigh of his name, you allowed your lips to slot perfectly against his, threading your hands through his sunset colored hair while basking in his sudden kiss. as ichigo warms you, you no longer felt like gravity was the one grounding you, but rather it was him.

when he feels your response, ichigo pulls away from the kiss and smiles down at you. you feel the way the calloused pad of his thumb trace at your bottom lip, gaze achingly sweet when he asks, "are you okay?"

you could only manage a nod, making ichigo give you another one of his soft smiles when he stands back to his full height still holding you. "alright, let me take you home."

"wait...!" your voice comes out as hoarse due to your prior screams, and you had to wet your lips to get rid of the dryness felt against them. "i...i still feel scared... can i please stay with you...?"

the kindness was so evident in his gaze, and you found yourself wondering why you were so afraid of him in the first place. he simply tightens his hold on you, simply answering your pleas with a simple "yeah."

holding you close to his chest, ichigo ends up taking you somewhere safe, running with an almost inhuman speed towards the town park. the cold air was felt whipping through your hair, and you could do little but continue to cling to him whilst he ran. with the moon and stars now shining brightly in the sky, ichigo reaches the park and settles down against the plush grass while keeping you on his lap.

he says nothing, simply looking up at the sky while running his hands through your hair. meanwhile, you kept staring up at his beautiful features with a million questions running through your mind, leaving you feeling overwhelmed and speechless.

your name coming out from ichigo's lips in a soft spoken tone breaks you out of your thoughts, with you meeting his gaze once more. his brown eyes were gentle, and you could feel his thumb gracing at your cheeks in a tender caress.

"i'm glad that i was able to save you."

you felt your heart racing again, with your hands clinging to the front of his dark robe, "kurosaki...?"

he hums, brushing his lips against your head of hair, silently coaxing you to go on.

"d-do you... do you happen to... i mean, by any chance- do you like me?" you blurt out as quickly as possible, your words coming out as a bit rushed when you clench your eyes shut, feeling afraid of what his answer might be.

ichigo was silent for several seconds before he slowly begins speaking once more. "you know... a while back, when my old man was talking about how he and my mother met... he told me that my mother was like his sun- that she became the center of his entire universe. and i didn't understand it back then..."

you open your eyes, feeling ichigo tracing his lips against the shell of your ear. when you felt him nuzzling against your skin, the sensation being achingly sweet to you, was when he whispers, "but now, i finally understand it."

his large hand was felt on your chin, making you look up at him. "i always noticed you. you were close to inoue and arisawa, and there was always this desire i had to protect you... to shield you from all the dangers of the world."

"but you were afraid of me...and i didn't want to scare you anymore. yet at the same time, i didn't want to leave you alone. i never wanted you to get hurt or feel pain because of me."

ichigo's eyes narrow, and you could feel the back of his hand gracing at your cheek. "i guess what i'm trying to say is that... you've become the center of my universe... that you've always been the center of my universe."

your heart was bursting at the seams, finally filling with an unbidden happiness as you allowed you to realize the truth of your emotions-

perhaps deep down, you knew that he loved you, but was too shy or insecure to truly believe it. yet now, with ichigo's earnest expression and true confession, you felt a joy that was indescribable.

so instead of conveying how you felt for ichigo with words, you allowed your actions to reply back to his confession. with a whisper of his name, you lean up and allow your lips to meet with his in a sweet kiss, one that let him know just how much he had become the center of your own universe as well.

a.n. - 'john wayne' by cigarettes after sex is such a fitting song for ichigo kurosaki. writing this brought out so many good memories of all the daydreams i had about him when i was younger... 🥹 i miss him ♡ 

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#ichigo kurosaki x reader #kurosaki ichigo x reader #ichigo kurosaki fluff #ichigo kurosaki x you #kurosaki ichigo x you #bleach x reader #bleach x you #ichigo kurosaki imagine #.stories

[brittscafe]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐮𝐜𝐡?

Pairing: Ichigo Kurosaki, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x gn! reader (seperate)

Summary: Headcanons on Ichigo and Grimmjow with a gn! reader who easily gets jealous.

Request: hiiii!! can i pls request grimmjow, ichigo (seperately) w/ a gn!reader who easily gets jealous whenever someone else tries to flirt w/ their man? love ur works btw!! thanks for keeping the bleach fanfics alive a HAHAJSHHAW.

A/n: omggg hiii! ofccc <3 Also, def struggling this week, I've been sick since Sunday and I've spent all week with my boyfriend and he went back home today for summer (10 hours away 😭)

Content: Fluff, slight cursing maybe, nothing suggestive, reader being jealous.

Ko-fi link (anything is appreciated)

Ichigo

He finds it really cute when you get jealous, but he'll never admit how cute he finds it.

He loves how protective you can get when you get jealous.

He'll see the jealously flare up in your eyes and your body tense for a moment.

Ichigo likes to watch as you glare at the person who's trying to hit on your man or as you tighten your grip around his arm, pulling him closer.

Will try and calm you down if you get mad or try to maybe cause a scene in the middle of public.

Ichigo is really good at comforting you when you're jealous, saying that you shouldn't even be jealous as he's all yours.

Slightly tugs on your hand and pulls you into him to distract you from the person hitting on him.

Will sometimes pull you into a tight hug, grabbing the back of your head and pushing your face into his chest.

He can't hide the grin that's tugging on his face as he watches how jealous you can get.

Grimmjow

Kitty meow meow lovessss it when you get jealous.

He finds it really hot and has no problem admitting it. He'll lean down and whisper how hot it in your ear.

You thought that Grimmjow might be annoyed when you got jealous, but no, it just makes you even more attractive than you already are.

He'll wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into his embrace, covering your neck in soft kisses.

His wicked grin will appear as he watches the smoke practically fuming out of your ears as you glare at the person hitting on Grimmjow.

The rage that grows inside of you when someone tries to flirt with Grimmjow is undeniable.

Of course, Grimmjow hates it to when others try to flirt with him. He'll scowl and grimace in disgust, pulling you closer and indicating that you're together.

He likes it when you raise your voice at the person flirting with him and you express how he's yours.

Grimmjow definitely wants to hurry home after the situation tho...

#grimmjow jaggerjack #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #ichigo kurosaki #bleach #bleach ichigo #bleach grimmjow #bleach fluff #ichigo kurosaki x reader #grimmjow bleach #grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #bleach headcanons #ichigo kurosaki fluff #grimmjow x reader #ichigo kurosaki headcanon

[itjazzbicch]

2 A.M.

Pairing:  Soft/Upset!Ichigo Kurosaki x Reader 

First time writing for Ichigo so I hope I did well! 

Summary: After saying some hurtful words during the heat of a battle, the reader and Ichigo's friendship is clearly affected by this, not seeing each other for days, when randomly, Ichigo come to talk in the middle of the night...

Warnings:  None! Just fluff

Word Count: 0.9k 

The rain in the night fell like sad tears, hearing the drops even while in the shower. Dead in the night, only the sound of water falling as I stood there, subconsciously washing away the soap that covered my body while I relived a painful memory in my head:

"You're just not strong, Y/N!"

"You're only in my way, so just disappear!"

I understood that everything Ichigo, our friends, and myself had been facing, Aizen and the Arrancars, was a matter of life or death, but all I wanted to do was use my powers to help.

I wasn't sure what the source of my power was, but I was no weakling and surely not a coward. Ichigo's strength was admirable. All of us looked at him as a ray of hope.

All I wanted was to help him, so he didn't have to carry such a heavy burden on his own, and that's what he screamed at me.

I haven't seen Ichigo since that day and they may have been just words, but they hurt my heart as if I could feel my heart-breaking piece by piece when those words replayed in my head.

Even after turning off the shower, water droplets were slowly falling on my feet. They were tears. No matter how hard I tried not to think about it, it was the only thing I could think about.

Like a zombie, I dried off and dressed for bed, tossing my towel into the hamper, making my way to my bed, and fixing my pillow. I was bound to have another restless night, wrapping myself with a blanket before I went to lay down and there were knocks on my door.

It was 2 a.m. Far too late for any guests to come, let alone on a rainy night.

With my luck, it'd be Chad or Uryu, wanting to go kill some hollows, but when I opened the door just enough to look with one eye, that bright, orange hair was my first sight, then Ichigo's big, brown eyes.

"Hey, Y/N," He only whispered, some pain in his voice as he spoke, but asked politely, "I know it's pretty late, but I can't sleep, and I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

I only nodded, leaving the door open for him to enter, scooting my feet back into my room, laying on my side with my back facing him as he followed.

"What do you want to talk about?" I sighed, curling up into my blanket.

He wasn't responding which only made me anxious, my heart racing, mixing with confusion as I felt his body weighing onto my bed, pupils expanding when his arms wrapped me into a tight embrace, able to hear the shakiness in his voice as he whispered:

"I'm sorry. For what I said. For everything."

I truly didn't know what to say, letting him allow his own emotions to be set free as his hold around me tightened, shaking slightly, even sniffling as he continued:

"I just-; I was so scared of losing you. I just didn't want you to get hurt. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you. It would be all my fault."

"Ichigo," I cooed softly, understanding where he was coming from, rolling carefully to face him, "I know that you don't want anyone, let alone the people you care about, to get hurt. Trust me, I get that because I'm the same way. But-"

Lifting his head, moonlight shimmering past his teary eyes, I had to look him in the eye, to make sure he knew:

"You don't have to do all of this alone."

Tears began rolling down his cheek as he listened to what I had to say, wiping it away and assuring him:

"I know you're strong. Stronger than anyone that I know. Sometimes, strong people need help too and there's nothing wrong with that."

As a response, all he could do was hug me, hugging me so tight and I made sure to return it. His words from before hurt, but I knew now, that he didn't mean it. I'd never even seen him cry before, so that showed how serious he was. All he wanted was to make sure I didn't get hurt by those Arrancars.

"Even by chance, if something did happen to me, that's alright, Ichigo," I whispered with my voice beginning to crack, meaning with all my heart, "You fight with your all to protect all of us. I'd do the same for you. Even if I died doing it. As long as you're okay, I'd die happy."

Now, we were both crying silently, clinging to each other and showing how we felt the same, eyes shut tight till I felt him pick up his head, hand holding my face.

His eyes were still closed, both lungs and brain not working when his lips came to mine, my own eyes closing tight to shake off the disbelief, pressing my lips a bit harder to feel how real this was, not showing it, but desperate for air when our lips parted, our eyes meeting in sequence as they opened at the same time.

"I just never want anything bad to happen to you," He whispered with a deep breath, knowing what he meant, "Never."

"I know," There was never a guarantee of making it out of this safe when the worst was yet to come, but something deep inside of me just knew that we'd all make it out alright, "Just trust me, Ichigo,"

Cuddling back to him, I took the chance to hold him instead, and he hugged me all the same, both of us able to relax for the first time in quite some time, placing a kiss on top of his head:

"We're going to make it out of this." 

#bleach #bleach x reader #bleach x y/n #bleach fanfiction #bleach fanfic #bleach fic #bleach imagine #bleach fluff #bleach anime #ichigo kurosaki #ichigo kurosaki x reader #ichigo kurosaki x y/n #ichigo kurosaki fanfiction #ichigo kurosaki fanfic #ichigo kurosaki fic #ichigo kurosaki imagine #ichigo kurosaki fluff #read and enjoy

[karikarasuno]

Pantone 16-1364

Pairing: Ichigo Kurosaki x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Soulmate!AU, Modern!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Dating, Domestic Fluff, Pumpkin Picking/Carving, Floor Sex, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Sappy Feelings

Word Count: 10.9k

a/n: this was supposed to be @thegetoufather birthday fic, but life had other plans for me so i couldn’t finish it in time. but nevertheless, it is here. i hope you enjoy this, my love, my other half, my soulmate. and happy birthday, you a real one. 

The world is black and white. And maybe a little less than fifty shades of grey. For those who have fallen in love, it’s rumored that they can see a few shades more. A color called red or even blue. But for you it’s still dull, love not having awarded you those rose colored glasses you’ve heard about. Yet you still hold out hope that one day, you’ll see more, that love will find you and fill your world with something colorful. Even if it’s mild compared to what a person can see when they meet their soulmate. 

Apparently it’s a rush and a daze. It’s sudden and overwhelming. The world like nothing you could’ve ever imagined before. And you crave it. But you also force yourself to be a touch realistic. The odds of you meeting your rumored other half is unlikely. Zeus allegedly had taken that from you a millennium ago. You’ve stayed up late into the night more times in your life than you could count simply imagining what your soulmate was up to, imagining what it would be like connected so physically that you shared a body and a beating heart. 

The thought alone is too much. So you focus on other things. Like the line for Starbucks wrapping around the entire store, the afternoon rush is just as unsightly as the morning one. And you feel bad for the baristas, but you’ve been up for far too long. The weight of waking at 4am hanging heavy on your shoulders as you finished your shift at the hospital. And really all you wanted was a pumpkin spice latte. The weather finally catching up to the season in a way you thoroughly enjoyed. You place your order with the young looking girl at the register, her demeanor a bit frazzled as you specified your order and walked off to the side to wait. 

The crowd is thankfully shrinking. Bodies no longer push you off into a corner and you take your first conscious deep breath of the day. You relax as much as you can and go over the other tasks you have to do once you get home. A nap at the very top of it, if you’re being honest. Your name is called some minutes later, incorrectly but you know it’s you as you walk back up to the pick up bar to grab your drink. You give the person a small thank you, grateful to finally be heading home. That is until you bump into someone. They’re taller than you, build firmer in comparison to yours. And the force with which you slam into them has your bag slipping from your shoulder and your coffee lid popping off the top of your cup. Your blessed pumpkin spice latte spilling right over the lip and all over hand as you drop it from the shock of the heat. You could cry, the tears already burning the back of your eyeballs. There’s a series of apologies falling from the other person’s lips, a hand gripping your bicep to keep you steady, and napkins being shoved into your open hands. 

You squeeze your eyes shut. One deep breath and then a broken exhale to ground you. But when you open your eyes to look at the person keeping you up, your vision is blurry and out of focus. Like a camera lens that can’t seem to concentrate on the subject. Your head is spinning, your body feeling like it’s teetering sideways. And you see it. Colors. Too many to keep track of, all bright and bold and nauseatingly vivid. This can’t be happening, not to you, not now. Not ever if you are being honest. This is too unexpected, your control snatched straight from your fingertips as you look up at him. He’s stunning. Heartbreakingly gorgeous. And you wish you had the ability to describe the extraordinary color of his hair, the color bright enough to blind you. There’s a headache forming at your temple, a building pressure behind your eyes as you take everything in. It’s too much. You feel like a newborn first opening their eyes. A world that is too foreign suddenly appears all at once and in high definition. 

He’s staring straight back at you. The moment just containing you and him in the middle of a bustling Starbucks. But you can’t bring yourself to care about anyone else. Too enraptured by him. Your soulmate. The one ripped from you by a bitter Greek god and you get it. This is terrifying in a way you cannot comprehend. Color rises on his cheeks. Irritating you because you can’t pinpoint it. But it burns and you yearn to feel it beneath your fingertips. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, his voice gruff and astonished. It warms you from the inside out. The autumn chill long forgotten as your coat becomes stifling. 

“No.” It comes out confused and accidentally. 

“No?” He mimics, voice just as confused, but his hand tightens on your bicep as you sway. You bring a hand up to dig the heel into your eye, shutting them again in disbelief as a dizziness begins to take you. The pain in your head grows tenfold when you open your eyes again. Your vision continuously in and out as you stare at the man in front of you. 

Your soulmate. 

“This can’t be real,” you say, regaining some sort of composure as you register the napkins in your hand and the cold stickiness clinging to your scrubs. He seems quicker on his feet than you are, bending over to pick up your spilled coffee and laying some napkins down to soak up the mess. You can tell he’s still processing this. But not in the same way you are. Not in the outwardly life altering, mind numbingly slow way that you are. 

“Sorry,” he says again, stepping back to toss the soaked napkins into the nearby trash can. You’re still embarrassingly frozen in place. Too many thoughts and also none at all buzzing through your mind as you wrap your head around the situation. It is far too much. 

A barista is coming over with a mop soon enough, breaking your spell as you step aside to allow him to clean up the mess you made. He offers you a sympathetic smile, and you notice the colors of his eyes are light and a weird feeling twists in your gut when you can’t put a name to it. It’s almost like a pit of envy has rooted itself into your stomach at the fact that this is what you’ve been missing your whole life. And you can’t even identify what you’re seeing, just that your eyes have finally reached the full extent of their abilities and your brain is pounding because of it.

“Stop apologizing,” you respond, walking around the mess on the floor and closer towards him. You shift your bag onto your shoulder again, your feet feeling like they're on solid ground instead of walking on water. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No, I should’ve been more careful, but it was like you appeared out of nowhere,” his voice is distant, like he’s thinking too hard about the situation. “It must’ve been the,” he waves his hand between your bodies, gesturing vaguely to what you assume is the bond. The inevitable entangling of your soul threads that whipped you two into each other. 

“Yeah,” you nod meekly, not sure what more to say. An awkwardness so palpable settles around you two and you almost want to run. But it’s as if you no longer have control over your limbs, your feet taking you closer to him instead of towards the door like your brain is telling them to. It still seems fake to you that he’s here, the person you’re fated to be with always within a normal distance and not halfway across the world like you always thought them to be. 

“I, um,” he pauses, sensing your apprehension and giving you a moment. You’re starting to feel cold now that the coffee is no longer hot. Your clothes are just wet and uncomfortable on your skin. “I’m Ichigo.”

Ichigo. Ichigo, your soulmate. 

You swallow. Your name stutters out from between your lips and for a second you assume you said it incorrectly. Adding syllables where there are none. But when he repeats it, sounding as awestruck as you feel, your heart grows. It knocks against your ribcage and pushes out whatever air you had left in your lungs. You’re selfish all of a sudden. The need to hear him say it again tangles its way into your being and a fast greed washes over you. 

“Ichigo,” you repeat, the name supposed to be foreign on your tongue but it’s sweet and familiar. Comforting as if you’ve been saying it for lifetimes. 

You’re not sure how you made it to your apartment after that. He was heading back to work when you gathered enough brain cells to rub together to have a normal conversation. Something about some office job. But honestly your head was still reeling and your eyes were about ready to pop out of their sockets, so you exchanged numbers and went your separate ways. Except now you stand in your living room. All the furniture and decor are a mixture of colors that you can’t decide if you like or not. Rangiku had picked everything out when you moved in together a few months ago. She met her soulmate over a year ago. But she’d fallen in love prior to that so her concept of colors has always been far different from yours. 

You need an aspirin. And a shower. And a fucking nap. 

You try to keep your eyes shut for as long as you can, bracing yourself against the kitchen sink as you chug some water and two pills. The door unlocks from behind you as you wait there, Rangiku yelling that she’s home so loudly the pain in your temple sharpens. 

“You okay?” She asks as she takes off her shoes by the door and puts her things down. She sounds concerned, her voice thankfully dropping multiple decibels to a more manageable volume for you. When you open your eyes, she’s standing much closer to you than you expected. And the first thing you notice is her hair. It’s nearly the same color as Ichigo’s. And again, a pang of jealousy resonated in your chest. 

“Your hair…” You reach out to feel some of the thick tresses hanging over her shoulder. She must’ve had a blow out this morning because it’s soft and voluminous, but really, you can only concentrate on the vibrancy of the color. 

“I just got it done,” she smiles, teeth twinkling and eyes shiny. “I saw a new lady today and she was amazing. I swear she worked some magic because my hair has never looked this good.”

And she’s right. It’s glossy and strong, each strand bouncing and smooth beneath your fingertips. But again, you’re stuck on how it just reminds you of him. “The color, it's just like-” his, it’s just like his.

“Oh yeah, the hair lady said she never worked on a natural ginger before–”

“Ginger. Is that what this color is?” You force your eyes to focus on it. Force them to concentrate on the deepness of it that’s packed beautifully within each strand. 

“Wait.” Her whole body freezes, her chattiness devolving into stunned silence as she stares openly at you. There are gears turning inside her head. Her eyes are darting all over your face in rapid tiny movements and you swear the motion makes you dizzier than you already are. “You can see my hair color?”

It’s hard to respond to her. Difficult to explain the situation when you are still processing it yourself. But there’s a rising excitement coursing through her body. She has questions. So many that you don’t know how to answer. You don’t even know if you want to. 

She calls your name, emphasizing each syllable slowly, as if your hearing changed and not your eyesight. “Tell me right fucking now if you can see the color orange.”

Orange.

You’re ready to pass out. You wanted this so badly, but now you’re not sure if you can handle it. Not in this state, at least. “I met him today at Starbucks. He bumped into me and spilled my coffee everywhere and I’m so dizzy and my head hurts so bad and he’s so gorgeous and I don’t think I can do this.”

Words are flying from your mouth before you can stop them. A tornado of emotions that was swirling inside of you is now spinning out of control and straight at Rangiku. She’s pulling you into a hug though, her arms wrapping around your shoulders and the pressure helps you breathe. It alleviates some of the pain thumping against your skull and you suddenly want to cry. 

Your world is on an axis foreign to you. Gravity is a concept you’re no longer acquainted with and your soul feels like it’s not even tethered to your body anymore. 

“How did you do it? When you met Gin for the first time, how did you keep from falling apart?”

She places a sympathetic hand on your head, cradling you to her body as she just holds you. “Come on, let’s get you out of these gross clothes and into bed. You’ve had a long day.”

As soon as you are laid in bed, your blanket tucked over your shoulder and under your chin, sleep welcomes you immediately. To be fair, you’re exhausted. Meeting your soulmate was just the cherry on top of a sleep deprived day. And if you didn’t wake up some odd hours later— pain in your head gone, but colors still attacking your vision— you would’ve sworn it was some fatigue induced delirium. But no. Your duvet is a pretty light shade of something and there’s a rug at your bedside that’s fluffy and a deeper shade of something else. The curtains are white, at least that much you know. So for a fact, you didn’t imagine him. Him and his orange hair and stunning eyes and strong hand. Your bicep is still warm from where he gripped you, almost as if he branded it into your skin from just one brief meeting. 

It’s difficult enough to thumb through all of your muddled feelings. But oddly, there is an overwhelming sense of relief. Like some weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying around for so long has somehow lifted and you’re lighter. Is this how Rangku feels? Like she’s floating?

You find her in the living room when you finally muster the strength to pull yourself out of bed for the second time today and see her with her hair tied up messily on her head as she paints her toenails. The tv is playing some random real estate reality show she’s been trying to get you to watch and her tongue sticks out the corner of her mouth with concentration. You don’t make a noise at first, not wanting to disrupt her when she’s already on her pinky toe and you know damn well she will fuck up if you interrupt her. So when she’s done, a satisfied grin on her face, you plop down beside her with a heavy, huffy breath. 

“Your head still hurt?” She glances your way, sympathetic but ready to pry. She won’t ask anything if you’re still in pain, regardless of if she’s dying to know. So while her question comes from concern, it’s also laced with her own self interest. 

“No,” you say, nudging her shoulder away with your palm, “just hurry up and ask me your questions.” 

“I need every single detail. What does he look like? How did you meet? Is he tall? I need an estimate too, like feet an-”

“You’re gonna make my head hurt again if you don’t stop,” you laugh, heat touching your cheeks from the memories she’s pulling from your brain that’s still slightly foggy from sleep and distant pain. Her features soften, a tiny, excited smile on her face as she waits for you to respond. You bring your hands up to hold your cheeks in your palms, still warm to the touch as you try to decide where to start first. Images of Ichigo flash through your mind and you wonder how to even describe him to her. And you’re positive that if he wasn’t your soulmate and you didn’t meet him for the first time in dazzling colors, you would still find him dizzyingly attractive. 

“Go on then,” she urges, nudging your calf with her foot, careful not to press her freshly painted toes onto your sweats. 

“Well, his name is Ichigo.” And the story flows forth from you with ease like a rush of water lapping at the sandy shores, the words never ending as her questions meet your thoughts halfway. It’s late into the evening when you manage to end the conversation, she ordered takeout before you woke up, already knowing you’d be too tired to want to cook anything. She pulled out her laptop too, finding those flashcards you use in kindergarten to show you all the basic colors. You recognized very few. Black, grey, white, and now orange. But there are so many more that you wondered how someone could choose a favorite. 

Red is nice, it comes in so many shades you find yourself drawn to the darker ones. Blue is wonderful too, the pastel ones especially pretty. But you aren’t sure if it’s just your newfound bias because of a certain someone, that your eyes always linger on orange. 

The next time you see Ichigo is at a local cafe. It’s small and one of your favorite spots, so when he suggested it you jumped at the opportunity. It’s been a week or so since you first bumped into him. The week drainingly long and cumbersome. Your shifts seemed to last forever, the residents up your ass with misplaced pride, and you just wanted to go home. Your only saving grace is Ichigo. He likes to text you sporadically throughout the day, but never too late and never too early. He’s the one who actually reached out first, the day you met he texted you at around dinner time. A simple hey and you were smiling like an idiot at your phone for twenty minutes. 

Since then conversation was easy if not a bit stilted at the beginning. You found out he works at a publishing company in the children’s literature department as an editor and translator. Which admittedly tickled you because he didn’t seem the type. And when you told him just that he was adamant that there couldn’t be a ‘type’ to childrens lit. You decided not to die on this hill, even though riling him up was proving to be particularly entertaining. 

“See anything you like?” He asks over the menu, peeking up at you curiously. You’ve been taking turns stealing glances since you arrived a few minutes after he did. Your memory of him really didn’t do him any justice. He is slightly tanner than you remember, his eyes a stunning shade of what you now know is brown. It’s light and warm, very welcoming on his otherwise serious face. 

“I had my eye on the roasted red pepper pesto sandwich, probably with a side of chips.” Your eyes drift down the menu, reciting your usual order by memory since you haven’t paid a lick of attention to the menu since you’ve arrived. 

“Hmmm, that looks good,” he says inquisitively, his eyebrows furrowing in thought and you can’t help but admire how endearing he looks, with his lips in a thin line and his brows pinched together. He traces a knuckle down the laminated menu, running through the options again as he clearly struggles to choose one. 

“It’s really good, it’s one of the only vegetarian dishes so my options are limited, but it’s actually delicious.” 

“You’re vegetarian?” His eyebrows quirk up interested. You nod, placing the menu face up in front of you to look at him fully, instead of between glances that didn’t belong to you. 

“Not a big fan of the texture of meat, so I stopped eating it a while back,” you explain, somehow expecting an adverse reaction from him, but he simply reciprocates your stare. Taking in the information and storing it. 

He, on the other hand, ends up ordering a traditional breakfast sandwich– fried egg (sunny side up), bacon (not too crispy), and provolone cheese all on a croissant. 

“Breakfast for lunch?” You ask teasingly after the orders are placed and the waitress takes your menus. He smiles at you, small and endearing before he reclines more comfortably in his seat– gaze unwavering from yours. 

“I skipped it this morning because I was in a rush to get to work. I hate doing that, though, because it throws off my entire day when I don’t have breakfast.” Interesting, you think. You’re usually one to skip breakfast anyway, with how demonically early you have to get up to be ready for your shift at the hospital. 

You don’t answer him, just stare. Which is probably odd, maybe unnerving, but you still haven’t been able to quite comprehend the fact that he’s real. And seems just as interested in you as you are him. Especially with the way he meets your stare without any sort of shame. When the food arrives you’re pleased to see the vast arrays of colors that decorate your plates. You never expected for food to be so colorful. It’s fun. 

Ichigo runs a knife down the center of his sandwich, drags the serrated edge across the ceramic plate and you watch as a gooey bright color seeps from its center. Rangiku taught this one to you too, but the name is escaping you right about now. 

“What color is that?” You ask before you can reel the question back in, before you can think of whether he would even know it. But he looks up at you and then back at his plate. 

“This one?” He gestures with his knife to what you presume is the egg’s yolk, having seen it before but always assuming it would be a muted grey. You couldn’t have been more wrong. You nod to urge him to go on and he thinks for a moment, running the color wheel through his head like you have been doing all week and says, “it’s yellow.”

You’re dying to ask him if he’s seen it before. If colors began to make their debut in his life long before you met each other. But with a question like that comes talk of love– past love, maybe even pained love. Has his heart ever been broken? You’re not sure if you want to know. You’ve seen heartbreak on Rangiku when you two were teenagers. It wasn’t pretty. It scared you into believing that maybe a world in color wasn’t worth it. 

“That’s not what I thought egg yolks would look like,” you laugh, shaking your head and sitting back in your seat. Your sandwich hosts an array of colors as well. The red you knew already, it’s in the name. But the green of the pesto is what surprises you when you lift the food to your face. 

“Have you never seen colors before?” The question gives you pause, a squirming uncomfortable feeling starts to root around in your stomach because the implication is all you hear. The underlying question rings, have you never been in love before?

“Have you?” Slight defense in your tone, but mainly curiosity. A burning red begins to blossom up his neck and tinge the tip of his ears. He realizes the hinting nature behind his own question once it was thrown back at him. He’s embarrassed. 

“Uh, yes.” The squirming feeling rises to your chest, threatening to ink your heart with murky emotions. “Obviously never like this. Not until I met you.”

You nod and clear your throat. You shove some of the sandwich into your mouth and take a larger than necessary bite to avoid saying anything. To avoid having to say something when you didn’t know what. It’s not fair to feel this way. You had lives before each other. Lives without each other. And you’ve known him for all of 8 days, but there’s a seed that has been planted and is growing at a rate you have no control over. Maybe it’s your soulmate bond. Or maybe you’re just hopeless. 

“We were together in high school,” he starts, unprompted by you, but feeling the overwhelming urge to explain. “Broke up in college, the distance kinda drove us apart since we went to different universities. It didn’t end badly or anything, though.”

“Do you still talk?” You’re jealous, you realize a second too late. The question flies from your head and you suddenly feel like you’re being intrusive. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

Your cheeks are warm, your hands slightly clammy, so you take another bite out of your sandwich. 

“Not really,” he shrugs. “We share mutual friends since we’ve known each other for so long. She’s actually engaged to her soulmate. She met him not too long after we ended things actually.”

Oh, you feel kind of bad now for asking something so private. But he doesn’t look dejected or bitter when he says it. Mostly indifferent, but you’re not sure if it’s a mask or if he truly means it. 

“You?”

Your head whips up to look at him. Heart fluttering because you forgot this conversation started with you. You were too caught up in his past to remember what even brought it up. 

“Um,” you fidget in your seat, feeling awkward now, which is probably how he felt. The seat too hot to sit in. “I dated a guy a few years ago and nothing really came of it. Not anything colorful, anyway.”

He hums, finally biting through his sandwich. Yolk smears across his bottom lip and you want to wipe it clean. The yellow is much more transparent on his lip, the skin there dusted with red. And you want to kiss him. So badly it’s sort of jarring. But you don’t, obviously. He catches you staring when he looks up. A tension that was not here before enveloping the entire table and you wish you could take a photo of him at this exact moment. His jacket is still on, his hands cradling the sandwich between long fingers, and his brown eyes sucking you into him. But it’s not that you’re dying to capture. It’s the sunlight that beams through the wide window you sit beside. The autumn rays bouncing off of his hair and the orange absorbs the light like it is meant for him. Like the sun is his. And you’re helplessly orbiting him. 

For two weeks, meeting him once your shift ends and during his lunch hour becomes routine. Weekends are a trickier battleground since plans had already been made in advance and therefore much tougher to align your schedules. But lunch is simple. Your text threads now consist of options of what to try next. Some new while others are old favorites you want to share with each other. 

You also find that sharing with him is terrifyingly easy. From family history to embarrassing high school experiences to your drunken escapades with Rangiku. It is all divulged in a single hour with a table separating you and food as your only other company. But sometimes the topics are tougher to navigate. When Ichigo told you that he lost his mother at a young age forcing him to step up and help his father care for his younger twin sisters it was over two bowls of soup– yours tomato bisque and his french onion. But most times they are much lighter, like when you find out he’s not a big fan of sweets. You had offered him a bite of your brownie and he physically recoiled. He had a tendency for physical reactions, most of the time to express disgust which you teased him relentlessly for. You caught the both of you by surprise one afternoon when he scowled at something you said, your thumb coming up to smooth out the creases that formed between his eyebrows whenever he did that.

Touching him also comes just as easy as everything else. He’s always moving pieces of hair from your face and you developed a quick habit of holding onto his arm whenever the two of you walk through crowded streets or busy restaurants. Your first kiss is actually shared at a crosswalk. The temperature that day dipped into something brisk and chilly. You were sleepier than usual so you found comfort in resting against him and allowing him to take the lead to your destination. In your state of half paying attention, you tripped over a chunk of lifted cement on the sidewalk as you were about to cross the street. But he caught you with strong arms around your waist. The sleepiness that was weighing down your eyelids disappeared with a gust of wind and suddenly your face was pressed into his broad chest. Your heart had probably stopped because you could no longer feel it beating in your chest when you looked up at him. The world had seemed to slow down, your mind filtering out everyone but him. You’re not sure who made the first move. It’s hard to remember when all that clouds that memory is the perfect brush of his lips against yours. And then he was pulling away before you could even register that the kiss had happened. He was blushing again, finally asking if you were okay and smiling when all you could do was nod at him. The alarming noise of the crosswalk signaling for you to hurry and cross the street was the only thing that tore you from that moment. Because you swear you could have kissed him forever. 

And kissing him is all you want now that your day shifts have turned into overnights for the week. You didn’t realize you could miss someone so badly until you and Ichigo started functioning on opposite schedules. You ache for him. Your soul throbs to be near him. And it does feel like losing a limb when you’re not together. The string of fate is taut and ready to snap from how terribly you yearn for him. Zeus is a bitch for carving humanity in half. 

Still, Ichigo finds ways to make you smile. Oftentimes staying up later than you know he’s used to. Or even offering to drop off food on his way home from work while you get ready to start your shift for the night. You take him up on it one night, no longer bothered by the idea of inconveniencing him because you just want to see him. He shows up on your doorstep with some takeout. His nose is tinted pink from the cold and hair windswept from walking from the parking lot to your apartment. 

“I picked up some food from that Thai spot you’ve been mentioning. I guessed a little on what you would want.” He holds up the bag, the smell already warming you and your stomach grumbles as a result. He chuckles at the sound as he strides into your apartment, toeing off his shoes near the door before bending over to kiss your cheek. You’re still in your loungewear, and you initially felt self-conscious about not changing for him but he doesn’t seem to pay it much attention. Instead gazing around your apartment with acute fascination. There are signs of you and Rangiku all over the place. An organized mess of diy projects half started and miscellaneous knick knacks you and her find whenever you go thrifting and have to buy. 

You also started experimenting with color, buying unnecessary amounts of blankets or decorative pillows or wall art simply because you enjoy the colors schemes. There is a mirror lying on your dining room table, painter’s tape lining the edges with some tentative strokes of yellow framing the outer corners. 

“You paint?” He places the takeout on the bar counter that separates the kitchen from the living room, staring curiously at the project on your table. 

“Not exactly,” you laugh, not wanting to call whatever smears of acrylic on glass painting. “I saw someone do this on TikTok and I thought it would be a good way to learn colors. There are so many shades of just one color when I walked into the crafts store a couple weeks ago I thought my head was gonna explode.”

You remember trying to find the yellow that resembled yolk, but instead fell face first into a color called mustard that you couldn’t stop yourself from buying. There were about twelve other colors you left with that day, your wallet not the happiest with you but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

“What’s this supposed to be?” He asks innocently, head tilted to the side as he takes in the wobbly paint. His eyes are narrowed as he scrutinizes it, it’s his thinking face which you’ve grown quite fond of. You smile as you watch him, finally feeling more like yourself than you have these last few days.

“I’ll serve us our food and then I’ll show you the video I’m talking about.”

He joins you for dinner, but when the time comes for him to leave it’s still too soon. You even contemplate calling out just so you could spend the rest of the night sitting on your couch with him. But he’s far more responsible than you are, level headedly telling you that you should probably go in and that Saturday his day is free. An excited feeling flurries around your chest because this is the first Saturday you’ve had available too, so you promise it to each other. A new motivation simmers under your skin as you go about the rest of your week. Knowing that by the end of it, you and Ichigo will have more than just an hour together. 

“Gin is picking me up soon,” Rangiku shouts from her bedroom so you can hear her in yours. She has luggage rolled out by the door, the apartment having turned into her extended closet as she packed for her getaway trip with Gin. Somewhere tropical. 

“Lucky you,” you say as you walk into her room. She’s still throwing things into a small backpack when you do. “Having a sugar daddy to whisk you away to fancy places.”

She rolls her eyes at you, throwing a stray sleepshirt at your face. “He is not my sugar daddy, he just likes to spoil me.”

Her smile brightens at the thought of him. And before you would get jealous of the far off lovey look on her face, but you are starting to think you look the same whenever you think of Ichigo.

You’re going to a pumpkin patch with him today, the leaves all sorts of pretty colors and you wouldn’t trade some beach vacation for it any day. 

“You’ll have the apartment all to yourself this weekend,” she says, cutting your thoughts in half. You don’t miss the suggestive tone in her voice. Your cheeks are heating in response. “Any fun plans?”

“Just hanging out with Ichigo later today. He’s taking me to pick out a pumpkin that we’re probably gonna carve. Maybe make some dinner together.” You try to keep your voice light and level, occupying yourself by unplugging her charger from the wall beside her bed since it’s the one thing she never fails to forget. 

“Just hanging out,” she nods, sitting on the edge of her bed with a sly smile on her face. She takes the charger from you, but not her eyes from your face. You hate that you know what she’s thinking. Because it’s been whirling around in your brain, the fact that you two will be alone together. In your home. Just the two of you. Your mind has wandered too many times to even count and your body flushes in response. 

“That’s the plan,” you shrug, hoping she lets the conversation end here and sitting beside her.

“I sure as hell hope not. It’s been fucking forever for you and you deserve some head, at least.”

“Rangiku!” Your entire body is burning and you’re not the type to shy away from conversations like this, but Ichigo makes you feel so oddly shy and you don’t want to fuck up whatever you have with him by being too forward. 

“It’s the truth, bitch. You’re overworked and under pleasured,” she laughs, your face scrunching up at her.

“What is wrong with you?” 

“You love me,” she giggles and hugs you to her chest, totally pleased with herself.

“So there must be something wrong with me then?” You joke, wiggling from her tight embrace and getting up from her bed. There’s a knock on the door that interrupts her retort and her eyes twinkle at the sound of it. “Go get your man,” you sigh exaggeratedly, barely hiding your own happiness for her. 

She squeals and gets up from her seat, practically skipping towards the door and leaving you alone. You do an additional once over of her things, making sure she isn’t forgetting anything important. Not like it matters much when she can buy whatever she’s missing wherever they land. 

“Oh, hi,” you hear her greeting rise in pitch, sounding surprised which doesn’t make any sense. 

“Hello.” Oh god, it’s Ichigo. His familiar voice matches the surprised tone of Rangiku’s. Panic is rising in your chest, afraid of what nonsense will come from her mouth. You practically run out into the hall, ready to stop the train before it wrecks itself. 

“You’re early,” you say breathlessly, glad that you had the foresight to be up and dressed by now– hair done and up in a claw clip. 

“I am?” You check your phone for the time, and yeah he’s about an hour early, but you can’t complain because you’re more than happy to see him. Less excited about the unexpected introductions you now have to do. 

“Just a little, but that’s okay.” Rangiku is smiling between the two of you, eyes even more sparkly than they were before, this time with something you should be slightly worried about. “This is-”

“Rangiku,” she finishes for you, holding out her hand for him to shake. “And you must be Ichigo.”

He takes her hand firmly, and you almost want to tease him for reverting into the shy side of him. He’s sometimes reserved, but him meeting Rangiku and being a little speechless makes you chuckle under your breath at him. 

“I am,” he clears his throat, finally walking over the threshold once Rangiku moves out of his way. “I’m assuming I’ve been talked about.” 

He slides his eyes in your direction, a hardened glance that has a playfulness behind it. One that sends a shiver down your spine involuntarily. 

“Mmm, in various degrees,” Rangiku adds, not missing the way his look made you react. Ichigo’s eyebrows raise, inquisitive and asking for more information through his expression.

“Nothing crazy,” you explain because it really hasn’t been anything crazy, Rangiku just likes pushing your buttons. He hums in response, not saying anything to her amusement. He has a small bag in his hand that you missed when he initially walked in, placing it onto your dining room table that is now clear of the mirror that you were painting. 

“I bought carving stuff from that store you like in downtown,” he says as he starts unbagging the items he bought. You notice a tube of paint rolling in the bag, sneaking an arm under his and plucking it from the plastic.

“What’s this?” You’re twirling the paint between your fingers and looking for the name, it seems like a shade of green but very light.

“I saw it and thought of you.” He feigns nonchalance, shrugging one shoulder and flicking his eyes over the other to find Rangiku smugly staring from the kitchen. “It’s sage green.”

You find the label name as he says it, running a finger over the word sage and already thinking of what colors it would pair nicely with. It’s sweet that he thinks of you, buys things that remind him of you. Your chest goes tight, and it should be uncomfortable but you’ve never felt more at ease. 

“Thank you,” you smile fondly his way, wanting to lean over and kiss him, but restraining yourself since you have company who will very much ruin the moment. He nods, and you can tell the same thought is running through his head because he steps towards you before stopping halfway. 

Not too long later, Gin stops by to grab Rangiku for their trip. As they are walking out she makes sure to call over her shoulder, “you kids have fun, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” And you almost strangle her for being so ridiculous as she winks and then scurries away into her soulmate’s arms. 

Ichigo sighs once you two are alone, visibly relaxing now that Rangiku is gone. His hand finds your waist almost immediately, and you hadn’t realized how tense you were until the warmth of his palm is staining your skin through your sweater. 

“Come on,” he says, bending slightly at the waist to whisper against the shell of your ear. Goosebumps tighten your skin and you suppress a shiver, eyes blinking slowly. “These pumpkins aren’t gonna pick themselves.” 

You snort out a laugh, elbowing his side and he grunts like it actually hurt him. “You’re lame.” 

Picking out the perfect pumpkins proves to be a stressful process. Ichigo is pickier than you would’ve assumed, his eyes scrutinizing each one. You decide to part ways to choose your own. And when you reconvene he has managed to find the most perfect one, it’s smooth all the way around, the shape almost cartoonishly pristine. Like he drew it himself and molded it with his fingers. It’s a good size too, not too big and not too small. 

You, on the other hand, pick out two pumpkins. One humongous and hard to carry. It’s slanted to the left and dotted with pimpled skin. The other is the complete opposite, tiny and cute with a long stem sticking out the top. 

“We agreed on one each,” he narrows his eyes, sticking his choice under his arm in an attempt to help you with yours. 

“This one is so small it hardly counts,” you argue, trying to swat his hand away to show him you can carry it yourself, but it’s up and out of your arms before you can fight him off. He makes the pumpkin look like a normal size with the way he holds it against his chest with an arm wrapped around the circumference. You’re upset that he makes it look so easy, but your body heats up when you recognize how broad he is. Wishing it was you in his arms instead of those damn pumpkins. 

“It 100% counts.” He walks over to the little old lady under one of the tents set up on the outskirts of the field. You move to pull out the cash in your wallet to pay her since his hands are full, but before you can wrestle it from the bottom of your purse he’s already handed her money with the pumpkins securely in his arms. 

“You’re so impatient, y’know that?” 

“I’m not impatient,” he argues back, shifting the pumpkins in his arms and heading towards the car. “Now hurry up, my fingers are frozen.” 

At the apartment, the pumpkin carving is a disaster. He’s hopeless when it comes to any kind of creativity. Every time you cut into the thick skin he swears he has no idea what you’re trying to make and your stomach hurts from laughing so hysterically at all of his faces of frustration. 

“It’s literally just a face, Ichigo,” you breathe heavily to even put your breaths from laughing at him. 

“A weird one,” he grumbles, grabbing some seeds and pulp that you scraped out when you first started and tossing it at you. The cold wet strings stick to your neck and sweater and you gasp from the feeling. When you turn your face to look at him, he’s hiding a laugh behind his hand. His shoulders shake from the restraint and you’re positive your expression is only fueling him.

You lean over to grab a fistful of the squishy contents, cringing at how gross it feels but then repaying the gesture by throwing it at him. He tries to dodge it, but it lands right on his collarbone and shoulder, one of the seeds finding its way into the hair behind his ear. His eyes are wide when he meets your eyes, a glint of something devious in them and your instinct is to run. But he’s quick, and his hand already finds some more and as you’re jumping from your seat he hits you right across your torso. 

“You’re making a mess,” you scream over your shoulder, using the chair as a barricade to separate you two. You make a fast break to the right, grabbing whatever is left of the pumpkin insides and raising your arm. 

“For the record,” you exhale on a laugh, “you started this.” 

The pulp flies from your hand and in his direction. His reflexes are faster than you imagined them to be because he dodges with ease. A squeal leaves your throat as you spin and run in the opposite direction. He’s chasing you all around the apartment as you throw the decorative pillows you had lying around the living room at him to keep him away. 

You’re out of breath. The air in your lungs fighting against every laugh and scream you steal from it. You barrel into your bedroom, kicking the door open with your side and stumbling on your carpet. When you look back at him, he’s cleanly jumped over the couch, now only arms distance away. You have no time to shut your door, but you also have no intention to. You’re tired and panting. Your bedroom is completely dark as you run further inside of it. The sun set probably an hour ago, time taken from you like it only does when you want it to slow down. 

Your guard is down. Your chest heaving from the lack of oxygen circulating and you’re in his arms anyway. He’s wrapped them around your middle, fingers digging into your sides to keep you from wigging out of his embrace. 

“Are you done?” His voice is rugged and heavy, dipping lower as he also tries to catch his breath. Your thighs clench in response with a will of their own and your stomach twists when his hot breath fans across your neck. You kick out your legs half heartedly, stubbornly not wanting to admit to him that you have given up the fight.

Ichigo’s grip tightens, and you feel the expanse of his chest fill against your back when he inhales deeply. He tickles your sides, pulling out a surprised laugh from you as you squirm and try to get away from him.

“I’m done!” You shout between laughs, pulling at his fingers with your hands. “I promise! I'm done!”

“You won’t run away from me?” He asks, fingers pausing but his hold is still as tight. 

“No, I won’t,” you sigh, pressing most of your weight into him. “Pinky promise.”

You hold up your pinky, not even sure if he can see it in the darkness of your bedroom. He loosens his arms and your feet fall flat on the floor. You turn to face him, pinky still in the air and you can just barely make out his features. His orange hair is one of the only things visible so that’s what you focus on. He wraps his pinky around yours, your bodies still flush together. 

You tilt your head up at the same time that his bends towards you. His nose brushes the slope of your own, and you share a breath. One that’s stuttered and charged. 

“Can I-,”

“Yes,” you gasp, tugging on his pinky and slotting your lips together. His are soft and taste like original Chapstick. You briefly wonder when he put some on because they’re smooth like it’s been freshly applied. You grab hold of his shirt, fisting it and refusing to let him go. Not this time. You want him completely uninterrupted. You want to kiss him until your lips swell and your cheeks burn. 

His arms are around your waist again, his hands twisting your sweater between his fingers and you are so firmly carved against his body you can feel his abdomen tense against your torso. 

He tries to take a step towards your bed, the intention clear enough, but when you try to follow suit your foot catches on the edge of your shaggy rug. Neither of you are paying enough attention to regain your balance. The kiss breaks and your bodies are stumbling backwards and landing on the soft rug with an umph. He somehow twisted his body in a way so that he’s not resting most of his weight on top of you, instead you’re laying side by side, limbs entangled in each other. 

There’s a heady moment of silence, one that still lingers with fresh desire but is tinged with a relief that’s comical. He breaks the silence first with a chuckle. It’s pressed into the top of your hair, the vibrations rattling around your skull. It has you joining him, a surprised laugh of your own bubbling up from your chest. 

“You’re always tripping over yourself,” he says, the hand that used to be caught in the fabric of your sweater slipping beneath until he’s touching bare skin. 

“You usually do a better job of catching me,” you tease, brushing some of his hair from his forward. His bangs have grown some since you first met and he looks even more endearing when he’s unkempt. 

“I was kind of distracted,” he whispers, his forehead knocking against yours as his hand slips deeper beneath your clothes. You will your body to relax, fight the shiver that’s threatening to tense your body and just feel his hand exploring your exposed skin. 

“Doing what?” You crane your neck so that your lips are merely a centimeter apart again, nails lightly scratching through the hair on the back of his head. 

“This.” And he’s closing the distance again, his lips now tasting like yours. The strawberry lipgloss you swore was gone by now still taints the taste of each open mouthed kiss. You slide your tongue against his bottom lip, asking for more. You sense that you catch him by surprise because his lips part but around a deep groan. One that has the hair on your arms standing and your hips rolling forward against his. 

He moves to your neck, hands becoming desperate in the way that they map out your frame. He rolls so that he’s hovering over your body— tongue licking at the space just above your collarbone. Your head lulls to the side to give him better access, your eyes closing instinctively when he sucks tenderly at the skin there. 

The black that overwhelms your vision frightens you though, for once not used to it after so long of it being your only companion. You nudge him so that he’s sitting up, and your heart aches when you can’t see his eyes. Or the look of concern you know that’s there. 

“Wait,” you rise to your elbows, your voice only air with how breathy you sound. He doesn’t move, just waits patiently for you to say something else. Worried that something is wrong. But instead of reassuring him you worm out from beneath him, arm rising above your head as you twist your torso to reach the lamp that resides on your bedside table. 

The room is immediately filled with a golden glow when you tap the base. The colors that you thought were beginning to fade flooding your senses to remind you that it’s true. That you aren’t dreaming this. Or having some expertly wild delusion. That your soulmate is here and offering you a kaleidoscope of new beginnings. 

“I wanna see,” you explain, hand coming up to rest on his cheek. “ All my life I’ve been living in shadows. Let me see you.” 

His eyes soften, irises like melted chocolate. He understands you. Better than anyone ever has before. It could be proof of the bond that’s destined to tie you together. Or proof that Ichigo is someone like no other. He has a presence that you can no longer live without. And you are terrifyingly in love with him. You don’t have to know what love is like to know what the feeling that clouds your senses is. It makes you want to run but not away from it, straight into its embrace without the fear of uncertainty holding you back.

You pull him in for another kiss. Less rushed, but purposeful. He takes his time undressing you, eyes lingering and stalling on every new exposed inch of your skin. You thought you’d feel the prickling of self-consciousness whenever this moment came, but you have never felt more self-assured. He kisses his way down your body, lips paying special attention to the spots that make you whine. That makes your fingers curl against his arms. 

He’s stripped down to his underwear and is now towering over your completely naked form. You reach for him, wanting him impossibly close, but he grabs your wrist to stop you. His eyes burn with an unwavering desire and you could explode just from the heat of his gaze, so you don’t understand why he’s stopping. When you open your mouth to question him, when you rise to your elbows to ask him if he’s okay, he stops you with a large hand against your stomach to push you back down onto your back. 

“How do you like to be touched?” It’s innocent within itself, but the circumstances are anything but. The shyness you assumed was far away is creeping into your brain as you fail to answer him. 

“I-, just touch me,” you say, hoping that it’s enough to urge him to continue. But he leans over so that his face is just over yours, eyes even more intense with the reflection of the golden light. 

“No,” he says firmly, brows furrowing like they always do when he’s frustrated or thinking too hard about something. “Teach me how to touch you.” 

Your eyes flutter close, heat that couldn’t get any hotter flaming throughout your core and you toss your head back against the carpet. Your chest rises with a broken inhale, your mind glitching momentarily at his words. 

“Fuck- uh, okay,” you swallow, finding his wrist and wrapping your fingers around it. You place his hand at the base of your neck, pushing it down to feel the weight of his palm there. You hear his breath hitch, too busy focusing on the feeling of his hand moving across your skin to see it for yourself. 

You drag it down further, using the confidence that’s simmering somewhere within your blood to guide his hand across your breasts. 

“Squeeze,” you pant when his fingers envelope the sensitive skin. Your nipple is already pebbled beneath his hand and you moan when he follows your direction. There’s a trembling vulnerability to this moment. A comforting one that forces you to keep going. 

“Like this?” He asks when he squeezes again, taking his thumb and dragging it over your hardened nipple. 

“Mmm,” you hum, not able to do much else other than enjoy him. But you tighten your fingers around his wrist once more to push him down even further. Straight between your parted legs where you already feel the slick begin to gather and wet your inner thighs. Your breath halts in your throat, stuck against the walls of your trachea as his fingers slip between your folds. 

He moans with you this time, parting your lips and gathering as much of your slick as he can on his fingers while you limply hold his wrist. You take your other hand and slide your fingers between his, touching yourself alongside him when you focus his fingertips against your clit. 

“P-pressure,” you stutter, hips canting to meet his firm circles. “Just like that.”

Your head is swimming with lust, a sickeningly warm pleasure caresses your veins as you lose yourself. You’re no longer concentrating on guiding him, perfectly content in leaving him alone to learn your body on his own. He moves his fingers down to your entrance, fingertips prodding at the opening without dipping inside like you so badly want him to. 

“Ichigo,” you sigh with enough need that has him looking up at you inside of where his fingers meet your sex. “Please.”

His shoulders slump forward and his chin falls towards his chest. If you didn’t know any better he’d look like he was in pain. The muscles all over his body pulled taut and tense. He’s slipping two fingers inside of you then and you clench harshly around them. You’re unable to breathe properly, not with how he curls them upward in search of the spongy tissue you know is there. You force yourself to keep your eyes open and trained on him, unwilling to lose every frame of him he is giving you. 

His other hand moves over to palm over the tent in his briefs, harshly rolling the heel of his palm against his cock and guilt pulls in your chest at the sight of it. There’s a dark spot forming where his tip is and your mouth waters at that thought of how he might taste in your tongue. But you can’t focus on it for too long when Ichigo manages to press against your swollen walls, using that motion to drag his palm over your clit at the same time. 

“Oh,” your head falls to the side, neck no longer able to hold it up as he focuses entirely on forcing you to the edge. His fingers are targeting every nerve ending that’s there, and there’s a fuzziness clouding your vision as he drives you towards your release. You can barely note from your peripheral that he’s pulled himself from his boxers, his long fingers wrapped around his cock and stroking himself at the speed with which he’s touching you. 

The sight has your heart racing and your clit throbbing in anticipation. Your hands are gripping the tresses of the rug at your sides, and your moans are rising in pitch the closer you get to your release. Your thighs close around his wrist when he groans your name roughly. You vaguely comprehend that it’s a plea for you to come. But the tone scratches at your brain and before you can understand the pressure that’s built in your gut, your back bows off the floor and your vision spots with noisy mosaics of color. All you can hear is your own voice catching in your vocal chords and the brief gasp of his name as waves of unadulterated pleasure wash over you. 

He doesn’t stop until your back is safely pressed onto the floor again, his fingers slowing inside of you before he’s pulling out altogether. You wince at the emptiness, blinking your eyes back open and wondering when you allowed them to close. 

You’re satisfied and your limbs are so heavy. Your brain is mostly mushy endorphins and the first signs of sleepiness are beginning to make an appearance when your eyesight goes wonky. 

It’s not until you see him fully, and the blush that’s coating his skin. The blossoming redness that stains his cheeks all the way to the tip of his weeping cock that your walls flutter again with the hopes of feeling him inside of you. 

“Let me,” you sit up and reach for him like you did earlier, this time solely wanting to hold him in the palm of your hand. He’s sticky from the precum that’s been dripping from his head. And your mouth waters again with the need to wrap your lips around him. It’s like he can sense where your thoughts have taken you because he’s laying you back down with a hand to your shoulder.

“Next time.”

“But-,”

“Next time,” he promises, stealing any retorts from your lips with a heated kiss. His tongue swipes into your mouth and you nearly forget how wound up he must be. Every kiss is punctuated with a rumbling sigh straight from his chest. He's maneuvering the two of you onto your sides, pillowing your head on his bicep as he continues to mold your lips together. You automatically hook your leg over his hip, his cock slotting between your thighs and slipping easily through the mess of your pussy. 

“Shit,” he pauses, panting against your mouth when he pulls away. You whine for him to continue, body screaming for him to bury himself inside of you. “I don’t have a condom.”

The white noise that was raging in your ear drums dials down and you breathe out a small laugh. You meet his gaze and you see the apprehension there, making you kiss the tip of his nose and rub a thumb over his heated cheek. 

“It’s been a while for me, so I’m clean,” you explain, your heart thudding against your ribcage. “I don’t have one either so if you want to wait we can, but if you’re comfortable…”

You let your sentence trail off, still stroking his cheek with your thumb as you wait for his response. 

“I am too,” he starts, breathing gentle puffs across your face. “Clean.”

“So then, fuck me, Ichigo.” You grip his hair between your fingers and gently tug it. His entire body shudders at the action and you grind down so that his head catches your entrance. He hugs you to him, face moving to bury itself in your neck as he thrusts into you. You can tell he meant to go slower, that he meant to take his time inching his way into your cunt, but your patience is wearing thin. And so you match his thrust with a roll of your own and in one motion he’s seated between your walls with a stuttered groan dampening your neck as his grip on your hip becomes bruising. 

Your sweaty bodies stick to each other as he continues to drive in and out of you. You’re sensitive from your first orgasm, so being full like this saturates every thought and feeling and function that should come naturally. His pace is rhythmic, every drag of his cock perfectly timed with each exhale. You drop your forehead into his shoulder, losing sense of yourself because you can only think of him. And his strong frame and soft lips and thick cock. 

It’s too much. There’s a sharp tug in your stomach, a warning that you’re about to come again. Your fingers unconsciously strengthen their hold on Ichigo’s hair, and you smear a kiss across his shoulder and wherever your lips can reach. 

“M’gon-,” the words are punched from you when his thrusts harden, his hips smacking against you in rapid succession. 

“Cum with me,” he barely grits out between a clenched jaw. “Fuck, please.” 

“Ichi,” you moan, high pitched and shattered. This one is harder than the last, instead of colors gracing your screwed shut eyes, it’s just white. Pure, untainted white. 

He's pulling out of you suddenly and with hardly enough time to aim his cum anywhere. Instead it rushes out in hot spurts all over your pussy, the temperature covering your sensitive clit and jolting your hips back in surprise. His arms are securely around you as he comes down. As you both breathe in jagged breaths of air to compensate for all the ones you lost. 

When you open your eyes, the colors are too bright for you. The tan planes of his shoulder and the vibrant orange of his hair greet you first. Your body sags in his embrace, hand rubbing soothing circles onto his back as he finds his way back to you. 

He stretches against your body when he finally grounds himself into this reality, his hands smoothing over your hair and thigh as he moves back to peer at you. His eyes are drunken and hazy. His lips are reddened and rosey. 

His smile is broad and amused when he gets a good look at you. An entertained little laugh tumbling from him. 

“What’s so funny?” You pull on his earlobe after you pinch it between your thumb and finger. 

“You have a dried pumpkin string on your lip,” he laughs again, plucking it from your bottom lip and showing it to you. 

“How?” You scrunch your brows together in confusion. Only then seeing the bits of pumpkin that you threw at him earlier still clinging to his collarbone and dried on his skin. 

“I can’t believe you threw pumpkin insides at me,” you playfully pout, biting your lip to hide your smile from him. 

“It was payback,” he grins, cradling your cheek in his hand until his fingers massage parts of your neck. 

“For?”

“For waiting so long to bump into me at Starbucks.”

#ichigo kurosaki x reader #ichigo kurosaki fluff #ichigo kurosaki smut #bleach fanfic #bleach smut #happy belated birthday aman #I love you #kari’s writing🔆

[dreadsuitsamus]

Bleach Men Taking Your Baby to the Grocery Store Headcanons

author's note: yes the premise is random but it's also very cute and perfectly in line with my recent onslaught of baby fever. also, the banners in this post were created by the always amazing @actuallysaiyan!! thank you for the gorgeous banners, babe! 🩷🩷🩷

pairings: kensei muguruma x reader, byakuya kuchiki x reader, grimmjow jaegerjaquez x reader, renji abarai x reader, ichigo kurosaki x reader

warnings: children ages 5 and younger and grimmjow's parenting lmao this is mostly fluff and some mischief mixed in from the babies

Kensei is definitely the tough parent of the two of you, and he relishes in that fact

But goddammit do those baby eyes make him waver

As he carries little Mila into the store, he tells her they're only there for necessities

No candy, no sugary cereals, only what you've tasked him to buy for dinner

Despite being only three and a half, however, Mila has a pretty good idea of how to get her way with Kensei

It's gotten slightly less effective since the pacifiers have been removed from her arsenal, but anything that cracks her dad's tough exterior is remarkable as is

It starts off innocently enough, though soon the way she sings her little song and bops her head around becomes rife with intent

"Daddy, can has hug?" She blinks up at him, holding her arms up

Either he's willfully choosing to fall into the trap, or Kensei is merely blind in the face of his precious girl

"Of course, baby." Kensei picks her up from the cart and kisses her wonderfully chubby cheek, leading the cart behind him as he continues through the store with Mila hooked on his hip

Mila curls up, humming as her eyes scan the shelves for something she wants

"Hold Momma's list for Daddy, okay?"

Mila's little fingers hold the list carefully, and soon Kensei is at a crossroad

"Broth. What kind of broth?" He mutters, fishing his cell phone from his pocket to call you

As usual, it turns into a bit of a squabbling match. He thinks remembering every little detail is silly, and you think you've made this dish so many times he should know you need chicken broth

Kensei is sufficiently annoyed by the time the phone call ends, and Mila strikes then

"Daddy, can has kiss?"

"Yes, baby." She gets a kiss on either cheek, and the kiss she gives his cheek right back is just about the final nail in the coffin

With Kensei holding her, she's able to reach the shelf and snag a little box of animal crackers

"Daddy, can has this?"

Played by the fucking toddler again!! That's three times this week!

"... Don't tell your brothers." Kensei sighs, hanging his head in shame

It's not all bad though; he does get another sweet kiss from his princess

Byakuya is a strict but ultimately fair father

Little Jasmine has grown up under his watchful eye, though through that she's certainly learned just how many of his limits she can press and how to get around them

Going to the grocery store is rare, and even more so if you're not present for the journey

But it's vacation time, and you're busy setting up the cabin for your family's stay, so Byakuya has been tasked with gathering enough groceries to make it through dinner and the morning's breakfast

Byakuya holds Jasmine’s hand and they walk inside together, Byakuya using a tissue to pick up one of the small hand baskets. There's no telling the last time this thing has been sanitized!

“What would you like for dinner tonight?” Byakuya asks the five year old, and Jasmine hums thoughtfully

How can she end the first day of this vacation with a delicious banana split?

Appealing to her father's tastes will increase the likelihood of success, and her father is quite fond of spicy foods…

“Can we have curry?”

The light in his eyes isn't missed by the girl, and she can practically taste an ice cream sundae with a waffle bowl already

“You're becoming more accustomed to spices, I see.” Byakuya hums and begins to survey the store's offerings, whereas Jasmine is mentally preparing her list for dessert

“Daddy?” Jasmine dials up the sweetness in her tone while Byakuya examines the various cuts of chicken on display

“Yes?” He hums

“Can we have a treat tonight?”

“What sort of treat?”

“A surprise treat. Please, Daddy?”

Byakuya pauses. He's no fan of sweets, and in general sugar is limited in the Kuchiki household

But she did say please

“Mm… I suppose.”

Byakuya doesn't meet your eyes when he and Jasmine return from the store with more ingredients for ice cream sundaes than dinner and breakfast combined

He is such a sucker, but he's happy to be played when he receives his banana split with a chocolate syrup drawing of his beloved Wakame Taishi from his darling daughter

Renji tries his best to be a strict father, but his determination wavers frequently. He wanted for many things as a child, and as a parent he doesn't wish to push that same feeling on his child as long as he's capable of providing a warm, loving home

Not to mention, that damn two year is old is just so cute it makes his heart melt at the mere sight of the toddler

“C’mon, honey, gotta get some soup for Mommy.” Renji murmurs as he carefully takes little Rin from his car seat, carrying him into the store on his hip

“Why?” is Rin’s favorite question right now, and Renji’s eye twitches a bit

“Because her tummy is upset.”

“Why?”

“... I don't know.”

“Why?”

“I don't know!”

“Why?”

Renji gently pinches his son's lips between his fingers. “Shhh… Quiet time.”

But of course, the moment he lets go, Rin is back at it again

“Why?”

“Because now Daddy has a headache.”

Rin, as gently as he can while simultaneously not managing much grace in the act, pats his father's sunglasses that sit atop his head

“All bedder?”

Renji's lip practically wobbles at the sweetness. “Yes, Daddy's all better. Thank you, sweetie.”

Rin rests his head against his father, playing with the Renji’s chain while he surveys all of the varieties of soup, Renji occasionally pulling the chain away from the baby's open mouth

Rin whines after his third attempt to eat the necklace, so Renji quickly grabs the first can of chicken noodle soup he sees and makes a dash for the checkout. No baby meltdowns in public, for the love of God

Renji gently bounces the baby, pleading softly with him to calm down. It's not working very well, however, and these damn checkout lines aren't moving at all!

Desperation wins and Renji's grabbing a lollipop before he knows it, tearing the wrapping off and popping the sucker into Rin’s teeny mouth

His plan to calm the baby works, and by the time he's actually able to check out and purchase the soup, the small pop is already gone and the tantrum is starting to blossom again

And just as Renji gets the baby strapped back into his carseat, he checks his phone to see a text you sent twenty minutes ago that practically sends his eyes popping out of his skull

Can you pick up a pregnancy test too?

He glances over at the toddler, and can practically see the boy as a big brother already

Even with a fussy baby in round two of the long lines, Renji's smile doesn't waver and he just kisses and coos at the hopefully soon-to-be big brother

Grimmjow is an interesting parent. Much like how every day with a four year old is a mystery, every day with Grimmjow is a deep dive into the unknown

So when sending the man and his mini-me to the grocery store, you're not quite sure what they're going to come home with. Hopefully it at least includes the items on the list, otherwise dinner is going to be very different from what you've planned

“Oi, keep up!” Grimm looks over his shoulder, the four year old having been distracted by a vending machine

“Want snack.”

“Too bad. Let's go.”

The toddler’s stare is a little too lead paint-y for Grimmjow's liking

“Zen.” Grimmjow looks on, unimpressed as he fishes a coin from his pocket. “Fine, brat. You win, you get a snack. I win, I get a snack.”

That gets the boy to smile, clapping his hands as he jumps in excitement

Grimmjow smirks. “Heads I win, tails you lose.”

The coin is flipped off of Grimmjow's thumb and he catches it easily, Zen waiting with bated breath for the results. Does Daddy win or does he lose??

Grimm sucks his teeth, shaking his head and tucking the quarter back into his pocket. “Heads I win. Tough luck, kid. Maybe next time.”

Zen pouts, watching his father slip a dollar into the vending machine and press the buttons for a honey bun. “Aw man…”

“C’mon.” Grimmjow opens up the snack, taking a big bite and grabbing the front of Zen’s coat, carrying him inside of the store like a handbag

The boy can't help but giggle as he looks up at his father; he loves air jail!

“You're in jail. Stop laughing, fuckin’ psycho.” Grimm shakes his son a bit, hiding his own laughter into the next bite of his honey bun. He's a hardass, but that baby's laugh is precious and melts him like ice cream on a sunny day

Heads turn at the way Grimmjow carries Zen, but Grimm is highly unbothered by such judgment. His kid is happy and healthy, and anyone that thinks otherwise can kiss his ass, for all he cares

“You got the list?” Grimm looks down at Zen, the boy fishing out the neatly-folded post-it note you lovingly tucked into his jacket pocket

Grimmjow perks a brow as he reads off the ingredients you've listed. “Say, kid—” he looks down at his son. “Whaddya say we ditch the list and get some pizza instead?”

Zen claps happily at the idea and Grimm grins menacingly, crushing up the grocery list and tossing it on the floor as he hoists his boy over his shoulder, stuffing the last bite of the honey bun in his baby's mouth whilst flipping off a scandalized woman at the checkouts

Growing up with two younger sisters was good for something after all, Ichigo thinks as he wrangles his twin girls through the parking lot with relative ease

The three year olds are stubborn and independent, having insisted they walk instead of having daddy carry them! But they still want to hold his hands, of course

why no he is not melting like a lava cake, why do you ask?

The girls gasp at the sight of a shopping cart with a racecar on the end that's the perfect size for two little ones!

“We don't even need a cart.” Ichigo deadpans, though it's in one ear and out the other as the babies pile into the little racecar, turning the steering wheels and beeping the (thankfully noiseless) horns

He feels like an idiot but as the dutiful father he is, Ichigo complies with his girls’ wishes and pushes the cart into the store

Chubby fingers point as little voices call out for candies and trinkets, and Ichigo's quick with each of his responses

“No.”

“I said no.”

“No ma'am!”

He's definitely cleaning their ears out when they get home, because clearly they can't hear him! Why else would they ask for things a million times over, hm?

“Daddy always say no.” Indigo pouts, her sister nodding in agreement. All they want is some candy!! Why is Daddy so mean?

Ichigo sighs in frustration as the aisle he needs to go down is absolutely packed, and he's stuck with this behemoth of a shopping cart. Settling it at the end of the aisle, he kneels down to make eye contact with the girls

“Stay put; I’ll be right back.”

Ichigo quickly rushes down the aisle, weaving between people to get to the pasta section

Now… If only he could remember what shape of pasta you told him to buy

Indigo and Imani look at each other, covering their mouths to hide their mischievous giggles

Those Push Pops they were eyeing are still nearby, and Daddy isn't!

As the tag team they are, Indigo and Imani spring into action, Indigo rushing to get the candy while Imani (who turns up the cuteness to a ten!) rushes down the aisle to her father

Ichigo frowns and picks up Imani, scolding her for leaving the cart

It isn't exactly effective, however, as the baby eyes and the cooing let her off the hook easily

When they get back to the cart after Ichigo remembers which pasta you've requested, he sets Imani back into the racecar

Indigo slips a blue Push Pop into her twin's hand, the two of them sharing a conspiratorial smile

They almost get away with it too, though when Ichigo's strapping them into their car seats he notices the lollipops

“Stop stealing!!!!”

These girls will surely be the reason he takes medication for his blood pressure, and he dreads the day when they become teenagers!

#kensei muguruma x you #kensei muguruma x reader #byakuya kuchiki x reader #byakuya kuchiki x you #renji abarai x reader #renji abarai x you #grimmjow x you #grimmjow x reader #ichigo kurosaki x reader #ichigo kurosaki x you #bleach imagine #bleach headcanons #x reader #reader insert #bleach fluff

[katsuma6]

"She's Busy Right Now"

Part 1.

#bleach #bleach tybw #bleach manga #bleach fanfiction #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #bleach headcanons #bleach x reader #bleach x you #bleach x y/n #grimmjow x reader #ichigo x reader #renji x reader #shuhei x reader #aizen x reader #ichigo kurosaki #sosuke aizen #shuhei hisagi #renji abarai #anime text post #bleach fluff #bleach imagines

[wulvercazz]

🍓Just Alike💕

A really soft, soft comic I did for the Family AU,,, Junichi is soso much like daddy ;w; a bit of a crybaby but a huge momma's boy, can't possibly cry when Grimm comes to his rescue.

Also 💕Grimmjow being extra protective of his little ones💕He wiLL bite people's limbs off for making his little ones cry, do not try him. Ichigo's a huge helicopter parent himself, but,,, he's been human for a while, had sisters; he knows sometimes kids just got to cry. To Grimm such prey-like sounds mean danger, and his kids aren't, and will never, be anyone's prey.

#Wulver Family AU #omegaverse #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #ichigo kurosaki #ichigrimm #一グリ #fluff #soft domestic shit #fanchild #grimmIchi #bleach

[sashi-ya]

[𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭! 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐈𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐨 ✦ +𝟏𝟖 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬]

✦ requested by Anonymous for the free requests ➜ Some NS/F W HCs for Ichigo from Bleach please? He was my first anime crush ever :D so it’d make me happy to see something for him. ➜ sure love!! enjoy your strawberry boy! ✦ tw: adult! Ichigo. mentions of kinks> oral, shower sex. impregnation.. minors dni. ✦ masterlist

✦ A man that never gives up is a man who would do anything to please you. The strawberry hottie will always put you first; he isn’t coming if you haven’t come twice before.

✦ A soft! dom for sure. But a dom at last. Who has ever told this man how to act, after all?

✦ He uses his spiritual pressure during sex. No need of choking when his soul can make you run out of oxygen faster than any hand around your neck. Because he won’t enjoy hurting your beautiful neck, but the way your eyes go blank when you feel his power crushing you is enough to make him extremely aroused.

✦ His hands turn veiny when his is fucking you. He does that of gripping the sheets while his hips describe a serpentine motion, in and out of you. He is not rough -at first-, but keeps the perfect rhythm to surprise you all of a sudden with a deep, hard ram. It makes you scream, thing that makes him bite his lower lip and smirk so sexily.

✦ Ichigo works from home – and when he is off duty as a substitute Shinigami- whenever you are back after a stressful day at work, you will have your dinner ready, a warm bath as well and him willing to give you love in the shower. He will clean you, and he will also push you against the watery tiles to make you scream his name.

✦ Oral lover. TOTAL oral lover. He is not very vocal, and the way he has a serious stare when he is ready to devour you makes you shiver. With the same passion he fights against enemies, he leaves your legs trembling. He knows, for sure, and oh so very well, where the clit is. (He learned from Ishida back when they were in school. Yes, Ishida knows)

✦ They say that like father, like son and I think Ichigo has an impregnation kink. So, get ready to be full and drippy.

✦ He enjoys watching you get dressed. He praises your body so much that every morning as you get ready for work he will smile, in bed, watching you get ready with sloppy loving eyes -and a boner he clearly can’t hide-.

✦ Kiss his neck unexpectedly or pass your arms from behind to his belly while he is focus working and watch the Strawberry blush. Yes, despite being a grown up, he still blushes like that sweet teenager you once met in school.

#ichigo smut #ichigo kurosaki x reader #ichigo kurosaki smut #ichigo bleach #bleach smut #ichigo x y/n #ichigo x you #ichigo x reader #ichigo kurosaki #ichigo kurosaki x you #bleach au #bleach #bleach anime #kurosaki ichigo #bleach x reader #bleach imagines #bleach oneshot #bleach fluff #ichigo fluff #ichigo oneshot #ichigo imagines #bleach ichigo

[k4shixe]

Bleach men reacting to a hug from s/o

Staring; Ichigo Korasaki, Uryu Isida, Aizen Sosuke

Pairing; gn!reader x ichigo, gn!reader x uryu, gn!reader x aizen

CW; affection, kissing - fluff

Part 2 with urahara,shunsui and ukitake

Ichigo Korasaki

* He comes home from a long night out of killing hollows with a tired look on his face

* He instantly smiles when he notices you cooking his favourite food

* When you turn around and see him you run up to him and give him a hug with you arms around his neck giving him a kiss

* He loves your hugs sooooo much, instantly boost his day

* He will carry you still hugging him and take you to the closest place for you to sit on

* The couch, a table, a bed, anywhere

* He stuffs his head in the crook of your neck as he smells your hair

* He will make some small remark like “guess you’ve missed me” with a smile

* You hit him lightly for that which makes him smile wider

* And when you try to move to get out of the hug he will hug you back tighter so you cant move

* “Ichigo, let me go! I need to check on the food”

* “Its alright. Its just food”

* “Ok you can eat burnt food”

* “Fineeee” he would say as he rolls his eyes and would follow you around the kitchen, helping you on some tasks aswell

Uryu Ishida

* He comes home after work, you would get up from the couch after changing the channel for the tv the 100th time

* You would hug him with one arm over his shoulder and the other under his arm as he would gently hold your torso

* You would mumble something about how much you missed him and he would kiss your forehead and hum

* He’ll give the sweetest smiles everrrr

* He would walk you to the couch or bed, wherever is closer

* He would be shy about it but he would ask for another hug (he doesnt want to admit he loves your hugs)

* Will ask you about your day and he’ll tell you about his

* “What do you want to do” Uryu would ask

* “I dont knoww, maybe a good show is coming on?”

* You’ll both end up changing the channel 100 more times in the end

* Genuinely such a loving person and would ask for a hug every now and then from you <3

Aizen Sosuke

* He will only take hugs from you

* No exception

* When you go up to hug him he will rest his head on the crook of your neck

* Loves your scent

* He will wrap his arms around your waist and bring you closer to him

* He would ask you about your day and what you’ve been up to

* He would do comforting circles on your back

* Would carry you to the couch or bed and would tell you about his day as you still hug him

* Would move the hair out of your face and run his hands through your hair

* He is not much of a hugger but would on be for you <3

A/n; Ok just to say I LOVE BLEACH MEN SM!! So I Decided to write this. I’m going to do a part 2 with urahara,shunsui and ukitake. If you guys have any other idea send them in!

#bleach anime #bleach #ichigo kurosaki #bleach ichigo #soul reaper #uryu ishida #bleach uryu #uryu x reader #sosuke aizen #bleach aizen #fluff #bleach fluff #x reader #aizen sosuke x reader

[laniluvsuu]

Spend It

Ichigo x Blackfemreader!

Uhmmmm coco tore up with this song idc.

“You so handsome baby.” You said smiling and staring down into your boyfriends eyes as you straddled his waist and held his face in your hands.

“Thank you mama.” He said smiling at you while pushing his face into yours for a kiss. Sweet moments like these made the both of y’all happy considering y’all were both busy all the time with work, and could barley spend time together.

You kissed him back immediately while keeping one hand on his face and leading the other up to mess with his ginger head of hair. You felt a bulge growing right under your cunt during the kiss.

You pulled away from the kiss and started kissing all over his face and moved down to his neck. You felt him his veiny hands tighten, kneading your ass in his hands, while he moved his head to the side giving you more access to his skin. Once you were done attacking his neck you got off his lap.

“Where you going ma?” He said trying to pull you back onto him, confused on why you were getting up.

Instead of responding back to him you looked him in the eyes while you got on your knees , and rubbed on his tighs before moving your hands to pull down his pants.

“Come back up here mama.” He said while you watched his dick get harder through his underwear due to your actions. You didn’t respond, you just spat in your hands and wrapped them around his dick your acrylics covering the parts you couldn’t reach, giving him a couple strokes.

“No baby, let me.” You said while lowering your head and kissing his tip before putting him into your warm mouth. You heard him sigh while you watched his breath stutter through his stomach. You lowered your head down his dick while you kept eye contact with him.

“Oh fuck.” You heard him groan out while he watched you use your hands and mouth to get him off. Your mouth was so warm and wet, it made him feel so good, and the way you looked up at him so innocently like you weren’t stuffing his dick down your throat made him wanna cum immediately.

He wasted no time moving his hands down to your head, placing one on the top of your head and another one under your chin.

“Stick your tongue out and relax f’me baby.” Ichigo said smirking down at you once you did exactly what he said.

“Such a good girl f’me baby” he moaned tightening his hands on your face, while moving his low lidded, lust filled eyes to your mouth around his dick.

He pushed his hips up into your mouth, shoving his dick down your throat. You moaned while watching him throw his head back through your now tear filled eyes, he bit his lips trying to keep his whimpers from coming out, pushing his hips up higher into your mouth desperately trying to finish.

“I know baby, I know. Fuck!” He said as he moaned, and you gagged around his dick, your throat tightening around his tip made his hips twitch further up into your mouth.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum.” He moaned out while pushing your head all the way down to where your nose is smushed to his base, he held you there for a second letting out soft moans and praises to you while his pelvis twitched in your mouth. Your hands gripped on his thighs, your nails put little upside down “U” shapes into his thighs.

Once he let your face go you took over, wrapping your hands over his dripping wet dick while you moved lower to suck on his balls, taking each one into your mouth while he whimpered keeping eye contact with you.

“yeah mama! just like that. Doing s’good f’me” he slurred out while you tightened your hands around his dick stroking them faster, and moving your mouth up to suck on his pretty pink tip, rolling your wet tongue all around him and sucking like you were desperately trying to milk his dick.

“I’m gonna cum baby. I’m cumming. Oh f—fuck!” He yelled out while he filled your mouth white with his cum, and throwing his head back as he twitched in your mouth. You swallowed his cum down as you watched him try to slow down his breathing and come down from his high.

Once you were done with his dick you straddled him again while he grabbed your face, pulling you into a nasty hot kiss.

Y’all know I ain’t proofread so please spare me if anything is messed up🙏🏽

#xblackreader #black reader #hes so fine #black writers #bleach ichigo #ichigo kurosaki x black reader #ichigo kurosaki #blackreader smut #blackreader fluff #ichigo smut #bleach #smut #anime x black reader #anime x black!reader #black women #anime bleach #send requests pls #my man #i want him soooo bad #ichigo x black!reader #ichigo x black reader

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Headcanons: Zanpakuto Inconveniences

Sure, everyone’s zanpakuto looks badass when they’re fighting, but realistically, shouldn’t they all have drawbacks?

Jushiro Ukitake: Sogyo no Kotowari

The twin blades constantly argue with themselves, causing Ukitake to have split-second mood swings as he tries to mediate between the conflicting personalities. This often leads to awkward situations where he's caught agreeing and disagreeing with himself. And let’s not forget that rope with the charms. How many times has he tripped over that?

Byakuya Kuchiki:  Senbonzakura

Its thousands of tiny blades can get stuck in Byakuya's clothes at the most inconvenient times, making it look like he's covered in cherry blossom confetti and struggling to pull petals out from under his collar after fights. When he tries to pull them out, they leave little rips in his clothes, much to his ire. 

Ichigo Kurosaki: Zangetsu 

is a bit of a rebellious dramatic zanpakuto. It occasionally refuses to manifest because it doesn’t feel ‘fashionable’ enough or claims Ichigo has been neglecting it. This results in awkward sessions where Ichigo has to find a place to sit down and have a heart to heart with his zanpakuto, reassuring it that he most definitely does not think Senbonzakura is cooler. 

Renji Abarai: Zabimaru 

Zabimaru's extended segmented form occasionally gets tangled in Renji's own clothes, causing him to trip over the coiling snake-like segments while attempting flashy combat moves, resulting in moments of unintentional slapstick. “Now how many times have we talked about this? If I go left, then you go right!”

Shinji Hirako: Sakanade

Occasionally messes with Shinji's perception of reality for the heck of it. Hell, like owner, like zanpakuto. This leads to him walking into doors, stepping into the wrong rooms, and even accidentally complimenting his enemies in the midst of battle due to the distorted vision. It made him accidentally flirt with Hiyori and she whacked him into next week with her sandal. 

Rose Otoribashi: Kinshara

It’s musical abilities sometimes backfire on Rose. Instead of intimidating enemies with his zanpakuto's melodies, it plays embarrassing tunes at the worst times, making Rose wish he could mute his sword.

Examples of Kinshara’s embarrassing playlist include “The Gummy Bear song”, “Baby Shark”, “Low” by Flo Rida, and “Baby Got Back” by Sir Mix-a-lot. 

Izuru Kira: Wabisuke

Wabisuke has the unfortunate ability to double the weight of whatever it touches. It has a tendency to sneak up onto women who are on measuring scales and make them heavier than they are. Kira shakes his head in shame whenever he catches Wabisuke in the act. “You realize this isn’t helping our image?”

Shuhei Hisagi:  Kazeshini

Kazeshini occasionally pranks Hisagi by creating small gusts of wind, causing playful havoc by ruffling Hisagi's hair at the most inappropriate moments, such as during serious conversations or formal meetings. Additionally, Kazeshini has a habit of whispering sarcastic comments or witty remarks into Hisagi's ear when he's trying to maintain a stoic demeanor, leading to amusing situations where Hisagi struggles to keep a straight face while dealing with its antics.

#bleach ukitake #bleach byakuya #bleach renji #bleach ichigo #bleach shinji #bleach rojuro #bleach izuru #bleach shuhei #jushiro ukitake #byakuya kuchiki #shinji hirako #renji abarai #ichigo kurosaki #rojuro otoribashi #izuru kira #shuhei hisagi #bleach headcanons #fluff #bleach #zanpakuto #anime headcanons #anime and manga #bleach anime

[witchmachi]

no one should let nel and ichigo drink together… for grimmjow’s sake at least

#bleach anime #grimmjow #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #bleach #bleach grimmjow #grimmichi #grimmjow fanart #bleach fanart #ichigo kurosaki #grimmjow x ichigo #grimmichi fluff #grimmichi fanart #nelliel tu odelschwanck #bleach nelliel #ichigrimm #ichigo

[ssailormoonn]

❛ Crush ❜

Kurosaki Ichigo X Reader

| SFW | REQUEST? Yes | -> Headcannons

REQUEST; @r333y - Hi I saw your requests were open and I thought I would request some bleach headcanons (or anything really) if that's ok. Would you mind writing ichigo and/or ulquiorra (separately if you do both) having a crush on gn reader? Like how would he develop it, how would he act around the reader or how would he confess. Just some fluff for our boys. Thank you for considering, good day/night. ♡

a::note; i don't usually write for a 'gn' reader but i will try my best as i did state in my request rules that i only write for fem reader:3

M.LIST | BLEACH M.LIST | SOUL REAPER M.LIST

How would Ichigo develop a crush?

I personally think that Ichigo would develop a crush on you regarding your abilities and strengths. Ichigo does meet important characters during conflicts and the start of his interest in you would be when you demonstrate your skill. Another one could be that you had a trait that stuck out to him, like there was something about you that didn't make sense to him, or that he wanted to know more about why you do the things that you do. I feel like mostly it would be how you fight, he feels interested in what you do and would like to know more about you because you are just so different to him.

Ichigo could see you in a vulnerable state, which could cause you to reveal your personal struggles. This reveals depth between your growing relationship and in turn, makes Ichigo feel more connected to you as you trust him.

Then it would lead to the both of you spending time with each other outside the battle field, experiencing everyday moments that show different sides of your personalities and discovering any shared interests or hobbies.

But there is one thing that I feel strongly about. I personally feel that Ichigo would need to have developed a crush on you specifically if he knows that you have the ability to look after yourself in battle. He wishes and craves that connection. Don't get me wrong, it's nice for him to save you and vise versa, but he needs to know that no matter what happens he will know that you are okay.

How would Ichigo act around the you?

Ichigo might feel a bit nervous or awkward around you, especially when it comes to expressing his feelings. He might stumble over his words or get flustered more easily. Ichigo is more composed usually, but, he might blush or become embarrassed around you if someone teases him about his feelings. Ichigo might be quieter than usual, occasionally glancing at you and getting nervous if you make eye contact.

I feel like Ichigo would pay attention to detail quite a bit, noticing your likes, dislikes, and habits. I think Ichigo is a natural person of being over protective, so previously as I said, he would need to have the trust with you to know that you can handle situations that you get into to because his protectiveness would be heightened. He'd be extra concerned about your safety and well-being, possibly being overprotective at times. Ichigo would be extra vigilant about your safety, possibly scolding you for taking risks, "You need to be more careful! I can't always watch your back."

If he sees you laughing with someone else, Ichigo might become uncharacteristically grumpy or short-tempered, though he wouldn't directly address his jealousy.

Ichigo would go out of his way to do kind things for you, whether it's helping you with something difficult or simply being there when they need support. Ichigo would offer his assistance without hesitation, staying up late to help them understand anything you need help with. He’d notice when your feeling down or overwhelmed, and in those moments, he’d make a point to be a comforting presence, offering a listening ear or a shoulder to lean on. Even in smaller gestures, like surprising them with your favorite snack or remembering to check in on them after a tough day, Ichigo’s actions would consistently demonstrate his care and thoughtfulness. His kindness would be genuine and heartfelt, reflecting his deepening affection and desire to see you happy and supported.

How would he confess?

Ichigo would make sure that you two are alone when he confesses. He would probably spend a bit of time building up the courage, possibly starting the conversation with casual topics before diving into his feelings. He might struggle a bit but would try to explain what he feels :(( the poor baby.

You noticed Ichigo had been acting differently around you lately, his usual confidence sometimes giving way to an awkwardness that seemed out of place. It was in the little things: the way he’d glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking, or how his voice would soften when he spoke to you. Despite his attempts to maintain his usual demeanor, there was a subtle shift that you couldn’t ignore.

You could tell something was on his mind, but you decided to give him space to speak when he was ready. After a long silence, Ichigo finally took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. "You know," he began, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant, "I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About us. About you." He glanced at you briefly before looking away, the tips of his ears turning red. "I’ve never been good with words, and this... this is harder than any battle I’ve fought."

You felt your heart rate increase, a mix of anticipation swirling within you. Ichigo continued, his voice gaining a bit more confidence. "I’ve always admired your strength and the way you handle yourself. But it’s more than that. When I’m with you, I feel... different. Better, somehow. You make me want to be better."

He turned to face you fully, his brown eyes intense and earnest. "I like you. More than just a friend. I don’t know how to say it perfectly, and I’m probably messing this up, but I had to tell you. I like you a lot, and I want to be there for you, in every way I can."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

M.LIST | BLEACH M.LIST | SOUL REAPER M.LIST

ulquiorra one coming soon:3

#ichigo x reader #ichigo x you #ichigo x y/n #ichigo fluff #ichigo kurosaki x reader #kurosaki ichigo x reader #bleach x reader #bleach fluff

[karikarasuno]

Dessert First

Pairing: Ichigo Kurosaki x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings/Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Smut (18+ only), Birthday Sex, Use of baby as a pet name, Ichigo loves thigh highs (I don’t make the rules), Unprotected Sex, Creampie

a/n: is this many days late? yes. is time even real? no.

“Rock, paper, scissors, SHOOT!”

His hand was a fist before your hand was flat. The rock to your paper.

“You cheated,” he slapped your hand away, making you chuckle.

“I did not! It’s rock, paper, scissors, shoot,” you emphasized with your hand again, pumping it up and down in the air between your bodies. “You’re supposed to go when I say shoot, not before.”

“That’s not the way I play,” he grumbled, walking around you to push the cart down the aisle you were stopped in.

“Well, your way is wrong,” you argued, bumping him with your hip as you took control of the cart and walked over to the produce. He whispered his rebuttal under his breath, stepping forward to match your stride as you led the way.

“And shouldn’t I be the one to pick the dessert, since it’s my birthday,” he said, pausing when you did as you looked over at the containers of strawberries in front of you. It was mid-season for them, so the air was fragrant and practically mouth watering. You inspected a few of the containers, deciding on the one with the largest batch of strawberries.

“No because knowing you, you’d just get something I like,” you said, placing the strawberries in the cart and walking over to the candy aisle. “This eliminates your ‘me’ bias.”

“I don’t have a ‘you’ bias,” he tugged on a strand of your hair playfully. “Maybe I like the same things you do.”

You scoffed, eyes scanning over the bags of chocolate chips until they landed on a pack of dark chocolate ones and you were immediately throwing it in the nearly full basket.

“Last time I got one of those slices of cake from the bakery you literally gagged after two bites.”

“Ok but in my defense that frosting was ass.” And maybe he was right, the frosting was insanely sweet, tooth-rottingly so, but it was a funfetti cake slice and you couldn’t say no when it was displayed so temptingly with all the fun colors.

“Yeah yeah,” you waved him off, heading towards self check-out since most of the items you came in here for to prepare his birthday dinner were already checked off of your mental list.

You’d made sure to grab a few reusable bags from the backseat before coming in, handing the items to Ichigo so he could fill them as you scanned. When you reached in your purse to grab your debit card, he snuck an arm past your waist, tapping his card against the screen of the card reader until it beeped.

“Excuse me,” you said, mouth propped open because you agreed that you’d pay. “Why do you behave this way?”

He smirked, small and smug as he ripped the receipt from the machine. He didn’t even let you grab a bag to carry, hauling them all into his hands to leave you to push the empty cart to its place by the entrance.

You caught up with him with a slight jog, unlocking the car and popping the trunk open so he could drop the bags gracelessly into the empty space.

“You better not break my eggs,” you scolded, tossing him the keys once he closed the trunk and headed to the driver’s side.

“They’re fine,” he laughed, leaning over the center console to kiss your temple once you were both seated before starting the car.

“You say that, but last time we were down two eggs because you don’t know how to be gentle.”

“Oh, that’s a lie. They broke because you decided it was a good time to stop abruptly in the middle of the hallway and I ran right into you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, remembering the moment you stopped in your tracks because you thought you saw a spider on your doormat. It was a leaf, but you refused to admit that to him.

“It’s your birthday, so I won’t argue with you,” you teased, poking your tongue in his direction and watching the smile pull at the corners of his lips. “Sure, that’s why.”

He decided he wanted to spend his birthday evening with you when you told him you were planning something special. He knew how excitable you got when it came to these things, so you compromised. Tonight it would just be you two, and tomorrow you could scheme and sneak to your heart’s content.

It took you longer than usual to prepare dinner, Ichigo spending most of his time in the kitchen bothering you instead of being helpful. He hovered, instructing you over your shoulder until you pointed the knife at him and told him to back off.

He threw his hands up, smiling as he walked backwards around the island to busy himself somewhere else around the apartment. And by the time the food was done, the stove turned off and the cookware pushed back on to a cool burner, he was nowhere to be found. You called for him, telling him dinner was ready, but he didn’t answer. The silence was loud and suspicious. Your interest piqued as if he was a toddler up to no good.

So you followed the quiet, making your way down the short hall to your bedroom. The door was barely cracked open, only rustling and movement could be heard behind it. You narrowed your eyes, trying hard to listen to figure out what the hell he was doing. But it was barely decipherable, except for the distinct sound of paper crinkling. You nudged the door open with your foot, hand on hip and head tilted.

“What are you doing?” You asked, a curious smile playing at your lips when he startled and turned to face you. He was holding something behind his back, ears red and eyes averted.

“What’re you hiding?” Your smile widened as you took careful steps towards your boyfriend who was cornering himself against the edge of the mattress.

“I got you something,” he rushed out, words without spaces between them when he finally met your playful gaze. He held out a gift bag to you, the handle hanging off his finger as it swayed back and forth.

“Ichigo,” you sighed, slipping the bag from off his finger and placing it on the bed. “Why?”

“Just,” he stopped, sitting on the bed and looking up at you, hesitant anticipation lighting up his eyes. “Just open it and stop asking questions.”

“But-,” you started, a rant ready on your tongue until he interrupted you.

“Open it, damnit,” he forced the bag back into your hands, and you shook your head before toying with the white tissue paper poking out the top. You tugged it out the bag, thin fabric slipping out along with it and falling on the comforter.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Not the pile of lacey material that you pinched between your fingertips, unfolding each piece with an amused grin as it became increasingly clear what exactly his gift was. The red thigh high stockings had a beautifully intricate lace trim with a matching garter belt. It was just like him to see this and think of you. So like him that you couldn’t help but laugh. Loud and bright and incredulous.

When you covered your mouth to look at him his brows were furrowed and he was staring back at you with frustrated confusion. An almost pout on his lips.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, glaring at you now when you hid the rest of your laugh behind your fingers. You held one of them up to tell him to wait, spinning on your toes and practically skipping to the walk-in closet on the opposite side of the bedroom. You fumbled around in there for a minute, pushing past the rows of hanging clothes until you reached a plastic tote you had hidden away. You opened the lid to grab what you were looking for, holding it in your hand close to your chest with another laugh.

He was staring still, handsome face scrunched in that scowl you were oh so in love with. You laid out what you had in your grasp on the bed next to his gift. An almost identical matching set. The stockings and garter a black instead.

“Oh,” he said, the amusement that clung to you now seeping into his voice.

“Oh, indeed,” you laughed, touching both sets, the texture smooth against your fingertips. “Now you have two to choose from. Black or red, birthday boy?”

One side of his lips turned up, a careful grin tugging his features into something mischievous. “Try them on for me?”

“Now?” You raised an eyebrow at him, remembering the food sitting on the stovetop ready to eat. “What about dinner?”

He shrugged, scooping both sets into his hand and holding them out to you. “Dinner can wait. Come on,” he nudged you in the direction of the bathroom, making a hurry up gesture as he reclined on his hands to wait.

“Dessert first then?”

“I think I deserve it.”

You didn’t argue that point, striding into the bathroom and kicking the door closed behind you. Your clothes smelled like the dinner you’d been cooking, spices clinging to your shirt as you peeled it over your head. The bra you’d been wearing was cute, but didn’t necessarily match the sets that were now resting on the bathroom counter. You thought for a moment about ditching it altogether, not intending to have any of this on for very long. But then you spotted one of his t-shirts folded neatly on his side of the counter. An idea forming that you knew he’d like.

So you undress and dress quickly, spraying some of your perfume on the back of your neck and your wrists hoping to get rid of the food smell. Replacing it with something much more alluring. You put the black one on first, the thong doing nothing to cover up much. But you felt sexy. The way the trimming hugged your thighs had a bit of fat squishing over the top. Your curves were delicate, pronounced once the garter was cinched in place. And his white shirt hung just below your ass, peeks of the set coming through whenever you walked.

“You need a hand?” He called from the bedroom, obvious impatience making you want to take just a second longer. But you pulled the door open, leaning against the doorframe and twisting the hem of the shirt around your finger.

“Someone’s bossy.” You took long strides towards him, lengthening each one so that the shirt rode up and caught in the garter belt. And it worked because his eyes were glued to your thighs, a blush creeping across his cheeks. His fingers twitched where they were placed on the bedding, an audible swallow meeting your ears when you stopped inches in front of him.

“What do you think?” You slowly rose the edge of the shirt to expose the top of where the garter starts, stopping just beneath your breasts. His hand reached out from behind him, lying his palm flat against your stomach and dragging it down. He took his time touching you, explorative fingers hooking and feeling and tugging on the lingerie. Once his hand was at your thigh, hovering over the trim, he sucked in a breath. Fingers splaying out before he gripped your thigh and squeezed, slipping a finger beneath the fabric to pull it back far enough for it to snap back.

“Yeah,” he whispered, using his other hand to grip your hips and tug you into his lap. Your legs stretched over his automatically, allowing him to grope at your body until you sat comfortably atop him. “This is the perfect birthday present.”

“I still have one more for you,” you giggled, dipping your head to kiss the side of his neck.

“You can try that one on after dinner,” he responded, tightening his grip on you, firm enough so that you couldn’t wiggle your way out of his lap. You kept kissing him, smattering them across his jaw until your lips brushed against his ear.

“How do you want me?” You breathed, your hot breath causing him to shiver in your arms and you hid your smirk behind more kisses. This time they were wet, your tongue licking over his pulse point before you sucked hard enough to bruise.

“Good question,” he muttered between a hissed inhale, his hands now on your thighs, kneading the meat there as he rolled the stocking over itself. You continued pressing your attention across his neck, waiting for him to tense in your embrace before grinding down. His dick was hard in his sweats, jumping when you dragged your clothed pussy over him.

“I can,” you began, sliding your hands down his chest to dive beneath his shirt to feel his heated skin, “ride you.”

“Or maybe I can,” you started to pull his shirt up and over his head, attaching your lips to his collarbone once he was exposed to you, “suck you off. Cause a little bit of birthday head never hurt nobody.”

“N-no,” he moaned, head lolling back as his breathing deepened the more you grinded against him. “On your stomach.”

Your head popped up to look at him, his eyes half-lidded, lips wet and red from where he dug his teeth into. “Oh? That’s what you want, baby?”

His response was only a groan, deep and reverberating in his chest. It vibrated against your palms, goosebumps lighting up your skin from the sound he made alone. You knew exactly what he wanted, opting to rip your shirt over your head before slipping off of his lap. You kept everything else on, crawling beside him until you were lined up with the pillows near the headboard. You placed your cheek against the cool surface, angling your hips so that your ass was propped in the air and your back curved with temptation.

The bed shifted from where he got up, and from the corner of your eye you could see him undress completely. His sweats fell to the floor with a dull thud, your peripheral vision catching the way he stroked his dick with his hand before he climbed on behind you.

“God, you’re perfect,” he said, hand trailing up from the stockings’ edge to palm one of your ass cheeks. “Don’t know how I got so lucky.”

He squeezed, a gasp pushed from your lungs when he reeled back his hand and smacked you. It wasn’t too hard, only enough to catch you by surprise from the heavy impact. You flattened your chest to the mattress, pressing your hips further up to exaggerate the curve of your spine. You were honestly ready for him, your thong sticking to your folds uncomfortably. Some days it really didn’t take much, not from him. Not when his simple touch set your skin on fire.

“Ichi,” you whined, hoping then that he’d get the hint to do something. To touch your aching core and do something.

“You look so,” his voice was tight, surely from the way he kept touching himself and admiring you. “Fuck, so sexy like this.”

“Then hurry up and fuck me, baby. Please,” you added, knowing the need that dripped like honey from your tongue would urge him forward. Have his patience thinning into a fraying thread.

Relief washed over you then, when the hand previously messing with the clip of your garter moved to push your panties to the side. His fingers slipped through your folds first, rough fingertips finding your clit and rubbing stiff circles. He didn’t have much space with how your thighs were pressed together and caged in by his legs. You were about to complain for more, another plea about to spill easily from your mouth until he pulled his hand away. You were left wanting, wiggling your hips and searching for friction again until his cock slid between your thighs, flush against your dripping cunt and you were suddenly hot all over.

“Holy shit,” his voice cracked, his hands now gripping your waist as he used his weight to pin you to the mattress. He wasn’t even inside of you yet, just thrusting between your thighs languidly and controlled. His tip bumping your clit with every forward motion.

“St-op teasing me, Ichi,” you said, hands balling the comforter in your fists. And he laughed, breathless and strained, before pulling back all the way and lining himself up.

“Wasn’t trying to,” he said, his fingers fidgeting where they were on your sides. “Just wanted to feel how wet you are for me.”

And before you could respond, before the thought even popped into your head, he was pressing forward. The glide into your entrance was easy, but the resistance had your breath sticking to your throat. His hips stuttered as soon as he bottomed out, his grasp impossibly tighter on your waist, and he inhaled harshly— the sound punctuated by a whistle between his teeth.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you allowed yourself to relax, waiting with growing need for him to move.

“Gimme a second,” he gritted out, thrusting tentatively before stopping all over again. “Don’t think I’mma-mmm- last long like this.”

You took that as your cue to bounce your hips as much as you could, barely creating a rhythm for yourself but each small roll had you crooning into the pillow and sighing. Ichigo’s palms were growing slick with sweat and while you couldn’t see him, you could envision the sharp set of his jaw and the pinch of his eyebrows as he tried to reign in his orgasm.

“So soon? You gonna cum for me so soon?” You teased, voice deceptively steady as he began to rock into you and pushing you further into the mattress. And he chuckled, the sound melting down your spine as his momentum picked up, the thrusts harder every time they met your thighs.

“Gotta problem with that?” Your moans were rising in pitch, that sickly pleasurable tingle heating your skin as his angle changed and focused on the spongy spot inside you. “Seems like you’re just as close as I am.”

Your eyes were rolling back because he was right, you were nearing that delicious edge and you knew you just needed a few well placed touches and you’d be a mess. So you squirmed in his grip, struggling to squish your hand beneath your body to find your clit. He was so determined to get you off before his inevitable release that he lifted your hips for you, giving you just enough room for two of your fingers to rub sloppy circles.

It was more than enough to get you there, especially when his pace became more erratic. He leaned back, a large palm resting on the center of your back while the other found your stocking again. He was pinching it between his fingers, pulling it back until the hem dug into the front of your thigh and he was releasing it. It snapped against your skin, quick and stinging from the sharpness of the elastic band. And you were falling, brain and body going fuzzy as you came with a whine of his name.

“Oh fuck,” he cursed, body bending over yours until his bangs tickled the back of your neck. “Shit,” he finished with a grunt and a shudder. He buried himself deep inside of you, cum hot and sticky and you were overwhelmingly full.

He rode it out, small thrusts prolonging the dizzying effects of your orgasm. The sweat that coated your body was now starting to cool, the breeze from the fan a welcome reprieve to intense heat radiating off of Ichigo.

“Warm,” you mumbled into the pillow, shifting so that his cock slipped out of you. “I’m warm, get off.”

“Don’t rush me,” he said, dropping like dead weight beside you with a stupid grin on his face, chest heaving with every jagged breath.

You couldn’t help but smile back, satisfaction weighing you down and comforting exhaustion had you cuddling into his side. You laid in silence until your breathing evened out, eyelids drooping until a rumbling sound came from Ichigo, obnoxious and gurgling. You shifted to look up at him, his eyes stuck to the ceiling as he bit back a laugh.

“You hungry?” You asked, propping yourself on an elbow and moving the hair that caught in his lashes.

“Starving,” he said, stomach sounding again seemingly at the idea of food.

“Good thing dinner’s ready.” You poked his cheek until he nipped his teeth in your direction, kissing your shoulder when you giggled and snatched your finger away.

“And then after you’ll try the red ones for me?” His tone was hopeful and suggestive, one eyebrow lifted on his relaxed face. And kissed him, a series of them peppered across his lips.

“Only because it’s your birthday.”

#ichigo kurosaki x reader #ichigo kurosaki smut #ichigo kurosaki fluff #bleach fanfic #happy belated bday love #ichi ichi ichi #kari’s writing🔆

[katsuma6]

Calling Bleach men bro! ヾ(＠⌒▽⌒＠)ﾉ

- Grimmjow, Ichigo, Toshiro, Renji, Byakuya, Aizen.♡

#anime #bleach #bleach tybw #bleach manga #bleach fanfiction #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #grimmjow x reader #bleach headcanons #renji x reader #renji abarai #toshiro x reader #toshiro hitsugaya #ichigo x reader #ichigo kurosaki #byakuya x reader #byakuya kuchiki #sosuke aizen x reader #sosuke aizen #bleach imagines #bleach fluff #bleach characters #anime smau

[wulvercazz]

Ichigo's sure this is just the pain talking, it- it has to be, right?- Grimmjow would not say this if he was fully aware. Yeah, that has to be it. They've been through a lot, he just needs some rest and.. and...

Oh, he is going to faint if Grimmjow keeps talking like that, probably. 

previous~

#Treasure Planet AU #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #ichigo kurosaki #ichigrimm #一グリ #fluff #bleach #grimmIchi