These are the sentences complied from bleach_muses One Sentence Challenge; I almost forgot I did these, lol.

Stolen (Kensei/Shuuhei):
Walking back to the 9th division after the weekly captain's meeting, Shuuhei had no idea that he was being followed-at least, not until he felt unbreakable ropes of kido looping around his arms and tangling his legs and a sweet smelling sack slipped over his head before he could see his attackers; after what had felt like hours passing, he felt them set him down on a soft, yielding surface and the bag was removed to leave him blinking in the sudden flood of light-only to find himself gazing up into a face he hadn't seen for over a hundred years but had dreamed about nightly for the past ten decades.

Possessive/Possession (Kensei/Shuuhei, implied past Aizen/Shuuhei non-con):
Every pained whimper, every tiny mewl, every shiver that wracked the slender body beneath him tore at Kensei's heart and set the raging fires of fury burning within him flaring higher and hotter as he tried to erase the months his fukutaicho had spent as Aizen's captive; Shuuhei met the Vizard's eyes and tried to banish the memory of being Aizen's plaything, and despite the stark fear that still flooded through him even now—even in this man's fiercely sheltering embrace—he knew Kensei's possessiveness was not based on a desire to own but rather the tangled threads of destiny that had bound them together since the very moment of their first meeting a hundred years before, and the realization melted away the worst of the fear, allowing him to twine himself more tightly around his lover and focus on the here and now instead of those horrible months in Aizen's hands.

Bullet (Implied Kensei/Shuuhei, Implied Byakuya/, Ukitake/, Shunsui/Shuuhei)
Kensei stared incredulously at the sheaf of papers the Kuchiki Heir had just laid on the desk in front of him-at first glance it merely looked like a report, but the points laid out in what appeared to be Ukitake-Soutaicho's neat handwriting had nothing to do with troop deployment or budget concerns, but were instead neatly bulleted guidelines on 'Caring for One's Kitten' (Kensei recognized the penmanship as belonging to Kyouraku-san); the noble standing in his office arched one perfectly groomed brow and inclined his head minutely at the stack of papers: "I suggest you study that most carefully and follow the rules we have laid out. This is your only chance-mistreat or neglect him again, and we will take him back, and keep him this time."

Candles (Kensei/Shuuhei)
There was something about the way he looked in the flickering, guttering candlelight that illuminated the room-sultry and mysterious and damn-near feral as he rose above the Vizard with those wicked, wicked green eyes shadowed in the half-light-that made Kensei ache with things other than the simple, base desire that had been the basis of their little arrangement; in the dimming light of the candles, the silver-haired man realized that he had fallen prey to a true predator, and inside his head, his Hollow purred and Tachikaze sighed, 'At last.'

Be Mine? (Kensei/Shuuhei)
He didn't have to ask the kid a damned thing; the tattoo on his cheek, the way his brat would come undone beneath his hands and lips and teeth, the smile that was reserved for him and him alone told him everything he needed to know-Shuuhei was his, always had been, always would be, and he didn't need a damned holiday to ascertain that fact.

Blackmail (Lisa/Shuuhei)
He glowered at the ex-fukutaicho malevolently, but allowed her to place the headband atop his dark hair, scowling at his reflection in the mirror and the damned cat ears nestled among the dark locks, all the while hoping that this time she'd forgotten her camera and he'd be spared the humiliation of her threatening to show them to the SWA-last time it had been girl's panties and silk stockings, and his face burned anew as he remembered her evil grin as she waved them in his face earlier-but apparently he was just as unlucky this time as he had been all the times before as a flash went off somewhere nearby, capturing him in kitty ears and collar and the fiercest glower he could manage-not realizing that he didn't look fierce at all.

Chase (Kensei/Shuuhei)
Of course the rest of the Vizards couldn't resist teasing him-how many centuries had it been since he had been the one doing the pursuing-but it only made his blood hum in anticipation of the day when he finally caught his dark-haired prey and showed him just what he had done when he had branded himself with Kensei's mark all those years ago.

Courting (The Vizards, Kensei/Shuuhei)
Kensei's version of courtship involved waiting out his chosen mate with the patience of a predator born-watching, stalking, then in for the kill...or in this case, claiming; however, the rest of his Vizard companions, though they too could ascribe to predatory natures thanks to the Hollows that resided within them, weren't nearly as patient as he, and so the reinstated taicho of the 9th suddenly found himself with a trussed-up, pissed-off fukutaicho in his bed long before he was ready to end his hunt, and he thought about killing them all for ruining his plans-which had never involved dealing with a truly furious and blushing? Hisagi Shuuhei...on second thought, he decided he would kill them later, and with that thought in mind, he smiled down at his chosen prey/mate and knelt on his bed, reaching for a suddenly quiet, suddenly very interested-looking young shinigami who had been just as much his savior during the long, lonely years of exile as he had been the crying child's on that long-ago day, and when he'd freed Shuuhei from his bonds, he found himself with an armful of eager, willing, sexy-as-all-fuck prey-turned-predator.

Miscommunication (Shuuhei/Kensei)
This hadn't been what he'd meant when he'd told Shuuhei to Kiss my ass, brat during their latest argument over gods-only-knew-what-the public persona of cool and collected fukutaicho masked his lover's fierce, easily roused temper, at least where the silver-haired Vizard was concerned-but he sure as fuck wasn't about to complain; instead he buried his face in the pillow to hide the flush burning across his cheekbones and muffle the low groan that sounded suspiciously closer to a moan as his lover's talented tongue delicately teased at his entrance before slowly pressing inside.

Lazarus (Shuuhei, Kensei)
Fluent in several non-Asiatic languages and proficient in a half-dozen more, Shuuhei was no stranger to to the literature of cultures outside of his own, and though he was not Christian, he had devoured the Bible with the same hunger for knowledge that had driven him to read poetry and literature and the religious writings of several different faiths; gazing upon the silver-haired ex-taicho he had long believed dead, his pain-befuzzled brain instantly seized upon the tale of the man who had died and risen again at Christ's command, and he too had risen from the dirt and rejoined the battle, spurred on by the realization of a long-dreamed-for miracle.

Ozone (Implied Kensei/Shuuhei, the rest of the division captains and lieutenants)
Barometric pressure dropped, glancing touches brought tiny, painful shocks, and the very air itself felt heavy; the first clap of thunder shook the air, lightning arcing between roiling black clouds that had suddenly filled a previous bright blue sky, and it felt as if all of Seireitei had gone utterly, completely still, breathlessly waiting...and it didn't have to wait long-the still air was split by a thunderous crack, gale-force winds rose from nowhere, and a great bolt of blue-white light flashed from the heavens to the earth, leaving behind the metallic tang of scorched air that stung the nose; huddled in a sake house with the captains and vice captains of the 1st through 8th and 10th through 13th divisions-the taicho and fukutaicho of the 9th conspicuous by their absence-Hitsugaya-taicho scowled across the table at a grinning Shunsui, "I don't know what you're so happy about, Kyouraku-san-your division, like mine, is right next to theirs. We'll be lucky if the buildings are still standing after they get this out of their systems. Damn wind-users...whose bright idea was it lock those two in their office anyway?", he grumbled, missing the guilty flush of color edging along Ukitake-Soutaicho's cheekbones-even if no one else did.

Solitude (Shuuhei)
Alone was not lonely...at least, that's what he told himself as he buried himself deep in the sea of paperwork and reports piled high upon his desk, turning down yet another invitation to join his friends for drinks after work-this one delivered by Rangiku, who coaxed and cajoled to no effect, finally leaving his office in a huff when he coolly stated that he was busy and could she please leave him in peace-unable to forget the sticky feel of Tousen's blood drying on his skin or the realization that everything he had believed in had been nothing more than a lie; his entire world had shattered that day, his sense of self crumbling around him as he listened to the insane ramblings of a man he had trusted above all others, and he had resolved in that moment-gazing down at the remains of his former captain and his broken faith-that he would walk his path alone.

Quantitative/Qualitative (Akon, Kensei/Shuuhei)
Akon could have told the Vizard that he was going about his research in entirely the wrong way, but he already knew that the silver-haired man wouldn't have listened to him, not when the scientist was friends with the very person the bastard was trying so desperately to disprove meant anything more to him than a warm, welcoming body that gave him pleasure and could be easily discarded once he was done with it; what the 12th division scientist didn't realize, however, was that Kensei had already discovered that even sheer numbers couldn't overwhelm the desire he had to unravel the mysteries contained within his enigmatic fukutaicho, and the steady stream of beauties seen on his arm went home alone after they had served their purpose-eliciting that truly fascinating flash of opalescent fire in dark eyes that signaled the cracking of his lieutenant's careful control, and one more piece of the puzzle that was Hisagi Shuuhei falling into his hands.

Droit de seigneur (Ukitake, Kaien Shiba, Miyako Shiba)
Jyuushirou blinked down at his 3rd seat's dark head before his gaze slid past her to the man lounging on his bed, wondering at their presence in his bedchamber on this night of all nights; a lazy smile curved Kaien's mouth as he held out a hand to his captain, the heavy embroidered silk of his kimono whispering in the still silence of the room as he shifted, rising to his knees with a liquid grace that never failed to make things low in the older man's body tighten-'no, don't think like that, he's married now, his wife is kneeling at your feet, fool'-just as said wife's hands slid up Jyuushirou's legs, long, elegant fingers seeking out and finding the ties of her captain's formal hakama, unfastening the strings with graceful speed while the white-haired captain stood there in stunned silence, wondering if he'd consumed too much sake earlier at the celebration that was still going strong even at this late hour-he must be drunk and was now hallucinating; this was all a product of his fevered imagination, it had to be-but the hot, wet mouth closing around his already hard length was most definitely real, and he groaned, closing his eyes briefly as his hands fluttered helplessly above Miyako's slowly bobbing head before coming to rest on dark hair gently, and he forced his eyes back open to see Kaien standing just behind his wife, the beautiful robes he had worn for his nuptials sliding off an even more beautiful body to reveal smooth, sleek muscle and a mouthwatering expanse of white, white skin, a roguish, tender smile curving his mouth as he met and held his captain's bewildered green gaze, "We knew you wouldn't claim droit de seigneur, Taicho, no matter how much you wanted to...so we decided to claim it ourselves."

Intricate (Kensei/Shuuhei)
The delicate, complicated knotwork of Celtic design etched boldly into creamy golden skin in blues and blacks and shining gold were as complex as the man that bore them; visually tracing the completely unexpected tattoo revealed after he'd stripped his injured lieutenant of his bloody, torn uniform-the detailed markings stretching from one smoothly muscled shoulder, down his side, wrapping around one slender thigh like a bride's garter-Kensei thought that maybe it was time he stopped fighting the attraction he felt towards his young lieutenant and devote himself to discovering just what really lay beneath that cool reserve Hisagi showed the world.

Rain (Kensei/Shuuhei)
Kensei had never been one to like the rain-it reminded him of things lost and forever out of reach, chilling even when it fell in the height of summer, the drumming sound on the roof above his head evoking a sense of loneliness even when he was surrounded by those who had been forced into exile with him-yet somehow he forgot all of that as he watched Shuuhei lift his face to the downpour as if receiving benediction...completely oblivious to the effect he had on the older man leaning in the shelter of a nearby doorway while Kensei fought a losing battle against the desire to claim what was his once and for all, knowing that this would be the night he finally gave in to what lie unspoken between them.

Torment (Kensei, implied past Aizen/Shuuhei)
He had protected Shuuhei as a child, but had been unable to protect him as an adult, and the knowledge that the shadows that haunted his fukutaicho's dark gaze was just as much his fault as it was the fault of the would-be god who had caught and kept Shuuhei locked away in Hueco Mundo for months-it had been his orders that had sent him there on a flimsy pretext to escape his inability to reconcile himself to the fact that the very sight of his lieutenant roused within him an overwhelming, frightening need to lay claim and possess Hisagi Shuuhei so completely the younger man would never, even be able to disentangle himself from the bonds spun between them over a hundred years before, his stupid, selfish decision to send temptation as far away as possible before Shuuhei became his downfall-and now he could only watch from the other side of a barred cell as his lieutenant relived those months in Aizen's hands, hoping that one day the madness clouding the younger man's mind would one day lift and allow Kensei the chance to make reparation.

Blood (Kensei/vampire!Shuuhei)
Kensei always recalled the words of the Catholic Mass at moments like these, moments where Shuuhei submitted to the Vizard's natural dominance despite being just as deadly and ten times faster than he used to be before the accident in Urahara's lab and his subsequent exile:'this is my body'...and he would thrust himself deep into the slim body beneath him, groaning quietly at the feel of his lover closing around him and that snug heat trying to suck him deeper, amber eyes locked with glowing green gazing up at him through a veil of lacy black lashes; 'this is my blood'...only when he knew Shuuhei was right on the edge of orgasm would he lean back and drag his lover into his lap, head falling back to bare his throat to razor sharp fangs, submitting himself to the younger man's Hunger in an act that was more intimate than the joining of their bodies, and the sensation of Shuuhei's canines piercing his flesh to spill hot blood and reiatsu into his lover's suckling mouth-along with the dark, possessive knowledge that it was his body and his blood that sustained the younger man-shoved him over the precipice and free falling, dragging Shuuhei along with him.

Rosary (Priest!Kensei/demon!Shuuhei)
He prayed for forgiveness, fingering the smooth beads one by one as he whispered the words of penance while trying not to feel the lingering heat of the demon's skin that infused the worn, consecrated bones twisted through his fingers, his silver head bowed not only in repentance but so he couldn't see the evidence of his sin laying supine across the altar like a pagan offering, the creature's pale golden skin luminous against the white cloth covering that was now stained with its virginal blood, great black wings shimmering even in the growing twilight; he knew he wouldn't find forgiveness for what he had done-he'd desecrated his Lord's House with base lust and anger, roused by the creature's pretense of innocence and false bewilderment, its big green eyes staring up at him from a fine-boned face marred by scars and tattoos, the sultry, tempting mouth that stirred his cock and his fury, goading him to seize the thing and toss it down across the nearest available surface as temper and lust won out over common sense, holding the trembling, pleading figure down as he freed himself and slaked both anger and desire on its helpless body while ignoring the tears pouring down its face-but he prayed for it anyway, rising to his feet after the last 'Amen' fell from his lips and reaching for the injured creature, lifting it carefully in his arms and cradling it tenderly against his chest...he wouldn't find forgiveness from either the Church or his Lord God, but the demon-Shuuhei-had granted him absolution, and he wouldn't leave it there to be destroyed by his successor.

Rite (Aizen, Hollow!Kensei/Shuuhei (non-con)
Aizen smiled slowly as the silver-haired Vizard fought against the hands holding him immobile and kneeling on the pure white sands stretching for miles in every direction, watching as amber eyes shifted at last to the gold on black that signaled the ascendancy of the man's Inner Hollow before turning back to the naked young shinigami staked spread-eagle beneath the endless vault of the sky, anticipating the moment his dark ritual would be complete and the fine white sands beneath the helpless, struggling figure of Hisagi Shuuhei would run crimson with blood at his own captain's hands and cock in an act of desecration that would divide the dark-haired lieutenant's soul and create a new type of Vizard.

Birthday (Shuuhei)
Like most shinigami hailing from the lawless higher districts of Rukongai, Shuuhei didn't remember the actual date of his birth, though unlike all but a very few (at least in Rukongai) he had not been reborn from the Living World but was truly a child of Soul Society (a fact that only very few people knew, and Shuuhei never shared) and like most shinigami that came from Rukongai, the young captain had chosen his birthday, allowing himself to be dragged off by his friends to celebrate and doing his best to show them he appreciated their efforts on his behalf; once alone in the privacy of his quarters, however, Shuuhei would quietly pour himself a small bowl of sake-his first and only one of the night-and settle on the floor in a corner shrouded in shadow, remembering the day of his "birth" and his "death", wishing that he had the courage to face Muguruma-san and thank him properly for giving him life.

Kiss (Kensei/vampire!Shuuhei)
Kensei hissed at the sting of pain in a place where no man ever wanted to receive injury, but his hands tightened in the midnight silk wound around his fists when his lover tried to jerk away, meeting and holding that glowing green gaze as he pressed Shuuhei's head gently but inexorably back down to his cock and the thin line of blood trickling down the thick shaft that had resulted in the accidental graze of a razor-sharp fang; the younger man's eyes widened in surprise, the already intense green brightening to a vibrant emerald, but his lips parted obediently, allowing Kensei to slide back into his mouth and deep into his throat, eyelashes fluttering down to veil his eyes as a muffled moan vibrated upward and around the bigger man's length, earning a vicious curse and a hard roll of strong hips as Kensei withdrew a little way then thrust back into his mate's deliciously tight-wet-hot throat, growling with pleasure as he felt his lover begin to feed.

Sated (Kensei/Vampire!Shuuhei)
It constantly gnawed at him, this dark hunger that was so much worse than even the old desire to just let go and fully embrace the darkness living within him and the psychotic zanpakuto spirit that never, ever let him fucking be, urging him to stop being such a fucking pussy; this newer hunger was a hundred times worse, and far more seductive than the darkness Shuuhei now knew was merely a pale imitation of what lived inside him now, but succumbing to the temptation of bare throats and soft breasts and the fluttering pulse in a strong wrist was entirely out of the question, leaving him no choice but to slowly starve among so much bounty-until the night he was dragged from his seat and shoved down atop his desk, his captain's weight settling over him to hold him down as one gloved hand pulled Tachikaze from his sash, hard gold eyes never leaving Shuuhei's face even as the older man drew the sharp, shining blade across his own wrist, setting aside the knife to fist a hand in Shuuhei's dark hair and lift his mouth to the freely bleeding wound with a harshly growled, "Don't even think of fighting me on this, idiot. I'm tired of watching you waste away-and if I have to slice myself to ribbons to get you to feed, I will."

Ginger(ing) ((Ukitake/Shuuhei; BDSM themes)
"That's it, Hisagi-kun, give yourself over to it," Ukitake murmured quietly, gently stroking a soothing hand along a trembling thigh as his other hand carefully eased a slim plug carved from a piece of ginger inside the younger man's bound form, his own breathing quickening when his lover let out a low, sobbing moan at the delicious burn beginning in that most delicate of areas and his long, sleek body writhed against the silken ties holding him all but immobile to the older man's bed.

Bells ((Kenpachi, Yachiru, Mashiro; mentions of Kensei and Shuuhei)
He had a hard enough time saying no to his small, pink-haired lieutenant when she asked him for something while giving him that look-he always had been a sucker for big brown eyes and a childish pout-but it was downright impossible to say no when faced with both Yachiru and the green-haired Vizard who had joined his division only a few short months before, and so the demon-captain of the 11th found himself handing over a set of his bells to them with a sigh and a nagging worry that he was going soft; when he discovered why they had needed them, however, he couldn't contain his roar of laughter, earning himself a truly filthy glower accompanied by a snarl from the dark-haired fukutaicho of the 9th that was completely ruined by the soft peel of the bells fastened around one slim ankle as the younger man turned on his heel and stalked away from the 11th division captain-or more accurately, from the former fukutaicho of the 9th, who-once her giggles subsided-explained to the spike-haired man that Hisagi-fukutaicho was forever startling Kensei by how quietly he moved, and the Vizards had taken it upon themselves to bell the tattooed shinigami so the silver-haired captain would stop leaping out of his skin every time his second appeared silently at his elbow.

Garter (Kensei, Shuuhei)
Working carefully under Unohana-taicho's watchful eyes, he gently peeled apart the edges of his lieutenant's torn and blood-stained shihakushou to reveal the deep wounds that stretched from one shoulder down to the opposite hip, but Kensei's eyes were fixed on the swirling lines of blue and black ink that stretched from his fukutaicho's uninjured shoulder, down his side, and disappeared beneath the edge of his hakama; he swallowed hard when the captain of the 4th instructed him to remove the rest of the younger man's uniform, trying to beat back the rising urge to lay claim to what was his-an urge he'd been battling for months now, an urge that had sharpened his temper and his tongue whenever Hisagi was nearby-and slowly untied his lieutenant's hakama, stiff material rustling as he eased the bloodied fabric down long legs to bare the terminus of the claw marks and the swirl of ink circling one slender thigh like a bride's garter, and the sight of those bold yet delicate lines that represented their shared element shattered the last tenuous threads of Kensei's stubborn resolve to hold himself distant from his gorgeous fukutaicho.

Pin Up (Kensei/Shuuhei; Next Top Model AU)
His breath caught in his throat at the sight of the young, dark-haired model draped across the shining red and black Harley, only distantly aware of Lisa's snicker behind him as he stepped onto the brightly-lit set; he barely heard the photographer's directions-years spent both in front and behind the lens guiding him into a position that would allow for the best possible shot-his entire focus on the gorgeous creature gazing up at him with hooded, kohl-rimmed green eyes and a glossy, red-painted mouth that was pure sin, drinking in the creamy pale gold skin bared by a liquid black satin bustier and tiny shorts clinging to narrow hips, the long, sleek legs sheathed in fishnet and sharp-heeled ankle boots that lifted and parted as Kensei settled his weight on the smooth leather seat and dragged the sleekly-built model's lower body into his lap as the camera clicked and whirred somewhere beyond the pool of light drenching the two men, forever capturing the instant Kensei realized he had been completely ensnared by one Shuuhei Hisagi.

Twins (Shuuhei/Shuuhei/Shuuhei, Renji)
He'd figured Shuuhei would be annoyed with him, but he'd thought his inventive lover would immediately see the possibilities and forgive him; he hadn't expected, however, to find himself bound and helpless at the head of the bed while Shuuhei submitted to his two dopplegangers' attentions, and as much as he wanted to plead with the dark-haired fukutaicho to let him go and allow him to play, there was something so fucking sexy (though wrong! so, so wrong!) about watching his lover's lips part to take a perfect replica of his own cock in his mouth while the second of Mayuri's creations sank it's thick, long cock slowly inside the 9th division lieutenant's body, dragging a sweet, muffled moan from Shuuhei as green eyes flicked up to Renji's face, a flash of smugness and the tiniest promise of later retribution flickering in the rapidly darkening depths as their gazes met and locked.

Spoiled (Shuuhei/Shuuhei/Shuuhei, Renji; con't from Ann's sentence)
Though his fukutaicho was very, very good at concealing his emotions, every so often Kensei would catch a fleeting glimpse of the terrible pain and loss that lie beneath the surface of the younger man's carefully cultivated facade of remote composure, and he cursed both himself and Tousen for being the cause-himself because he hadn't been there to stop Tousen, and Tousen for killing the man he used to be, the one who would have taken the boy he'd rescued and raised him to be the warrior Kensei had seen even in the child-and after nearly a year of watching his fukutaicho grow steadily more and more withdrawn and those eyes haunting his sleep, the Vizard decided that he couldn't just stand by and watch the young man turn into a living ghost any longer; Shuuhei was no longer a child but a man, but the simmering attraction between them-unacknowledged by both captain and lieutenant thus far-while at first unwanted, granted the Vizard a means of erasing some of that pain, even if he thought that taking his pleasure of that lean, scarred form that cried out so sweetly beneath him was not the kind of spoiling his new lover's friends would entirely approve of.

Whisper (Aizen/Shuuhei, Kazeshini; non-con, dark themes)
He closed his eyes and desperately tried to ignore the ghosting touches against his bound and helpless form, the soft voice murmuring praise against his skin as the ex-captain moved over and inside his battered, trembling body and dragged the faintest echoes of pleasure from the captive shinigami; inside his Inner World, Kazeshini howled denial and filthy invectives against his master, feeling how very close his wielder was to the edge and fearing what would happen to them if his owner fell down into that endless, waiting abyss of madness that made Kazeshini look fucking sane on his worst day-he'd wanted Shuuhei to embrace the darkness that lived inside him, but not like this, not at fucking Aizen's hands and the terrible spear of the ex-captain's cock and sweetly poisonous words whispering in Shuuhei's ear that no one will ever come for him because they had thrown him away in the first place, and wasn't he much better off now with the one person who had always wanted him?