#jugram bleach

[my-my-my]

KINKTOBER DAY 8 - Masturbation: Jugram Haschwalth x Female Reader

By popular vote, this is posted today!

Summary: The seasons come and go. Summer, spring, autumn, and winter leave memories of you, your piano and knight Jugram Haschwalth, haunting your mind.

TW: MDNI! This is a historical AU (the time period is purposefully unclear), where you are Yhwach’s niece. Classism, implied gender and class roles, unrequited feelings, infidelity, arranged marriage. Mutual masturbation. This is kind of melancholic for the most part.

Word count: (the longest so far!) 4548

Read on AO3 here.

It’s autumn and you’re standing on the tips of your toes to watch the new pages practice with wooden swords.

They look small, like you, with childlike wonder as they hold their makeshift swords. Their eyes are filled with wonder and excitement. Except for one.

One of the shortest of the bunch, a boy with brilliant blonde hair, looks at his sword with concern and hesitation. He gives it a weak swing; you swear he looks like he’s trembling. Another boy, with dark red hair, yells at him, scaring the blonde boy, forcing his head up. You press your face against the window for a better look.

“He’s so pretty.” You said out loud, when one of your maids tugs your hand away from the scene.

“Mistress! Remove your face from the window this instance!” Your caretaker rushes to you, pulling you away from the view below. “You must attend your piano lessons. Don’t mind those boys.” Your caretaker scolds you, holding your hand firmly as you’re led away from the window. As you move away, you see the little blonde boy look up and you give him a wave as you’re pulled away.

It's autumn and you rather be playing outside in the fallen leaves with the blonde boy who doesn’t want to hold his sword.

Your piano teacher waits for you in the music room, where your black, grand piano awaits. It’s massive compared to your piano teacher, it’s even bigger compared to you. The piano is near another window, one that is open. The light breeze fills the room with a faint scent of fallen leaves and the grunts and yelps of the pages practicing outside. Your piano teacher, a lean, young man with blonde hair but not as pretty as the blonde boy outside you thought, approaches you. He gave you a grin, “little lady, you’ve kept me waitin’!” His voice has a bit of an accent, you were told he came from lands “far, far away.”

Your caretaker taps your shoulder, reminding you of your manners, “I’m sorry Mr. Hirako. Please excuse my tardiness.” You recite, your tone monotonous. Words repeated and echoed through your etiquette training.

Mr. Hirako lets out a snicker, “don’t worry about it, miss. Let’s get you warmed up with some scales.”

You watch your caretaker leave the room once Mr. Hirako ushers you to your seat. The notes glide off your fingertips, as Mr. Hirako watches you with intensity. Scale after scale, note after note, your music fills the room, echoing nearby.

The pages, who were done for the day, walk away from their practice session. But the little blonde boy hears the distant sound of piano playing and walks closer. He watches you, the little girl from the window. He stares at you in awe and envy, as he listens to your music playing. “Jugo! Whatcha doin’?! We gotta hurry back, Sister Retsu will get angry at us if we’re late!” The red-haired boy from earlier yells, slapping “Jugo’s” back. He pulls at the blonde boy’s sleeves, dragging him away from the window, while the blonde boy just stares until you’re out of his view.

It’s winter and beautiful. Fresh snow covers your manor in a haunting shade of white. It leaves your manor in absolute silence. There is no one around, and so you open the window in your piano room. There’s a slight chill in the air, but you love it nonetheless. The atmosphere helps you with your concentration.

Your recital approaches and you stare at your music sheets. You read over Mr. Hirako’s instructions and tips to steel yourself for your first recital. Little slips of paper stick out of your music books, while notes and coloured markings fill sections on what you need to practice, reminders to yourself of mistakes you have made.

You warm up with selections from Hanon’s Virtuoso Pianist. Scales, arpeggios and everything in between fly from your fingers. It feels effortless, your mind is focused and clear. You begin the first piece of your recital’s repertoire, Bach’s Fugue No. 16 from the second book of his Well-Tempered Clavier. The notes start heavy, with your fingers increasing in speed as bars fly from your vision.

Snap.

You stop playing, the loud snap shaking you out of your concentration. An animal wouldn’t have made such loud noises, it sounded like footsteps, you thought. You peer down the window and see the blonde boy of your youth, now a squire. His blonde hair is past his ears now, and he dons a black, long-sleeved tunic with your uncle’s family crest above his chest with white pants. He looks startled to see you, as you are of him.

You give him a polite smile and wave to him, but he doesn’t respond. It wasn’t just his hair that grew, you realized. The pages who trained endlessly, day after day, in sunshine, rain or snow, have now became squires. The changing of seasons and time reflected their physical growth as well. The blonde boy was now a teen, and he was tall, taller than you are now.

“Wait!” You yell at him, as he begins to walk away. You run through your manor, pushing past servants until you see him outside.

It’s winter and terribly cold, but you don’t care. The blonde teen looks startled to see you, and you were right, he was taller than you.

“Mistress, you shouldn’t be out here.” His voice is shaky as he tries step away from you.

“I’m fine!” You shout. He smiles weakly at you.

“How can I be of service to you, Mistress?” The teen asks, bowing his head at you.

You click your tongue disapprovingly, “we’re the same age, right?” You say, introducing yourself and extending your hand. The teen avoids your gaze and open palm as he whispers your name.

He ignores your question, “I’m Jugram Haschwalth, Lord Yhwach’s squire.” He says, finally looking at you. Hesitation and anxiousness fill his voice.

His eyes are a brilliant shade of green, reminding you of the meadows in springtime. You repeated his name over and over again, “I’ll definitely be able to remember that! And besides, I knew you were one of my uncle’s squires.” You laughed, “I just didn’t know your name.”

“Oh, right…” Jugram said softly.

The winter chill is creeping up through your clothes, as the two of you stand awkwardly.

“You’ll do anything I say, Jugram?” You ask, as you stare at him, you notice his posture, the way he slouches, and how he holds his arm behind his back.

He looks at you briefly, then looks away, “yes.”

“Then come listen to me practice!” You exclaim, “I need an audience anyways. I have my first recital coming.” You beamed at him, trying to get Jugram to relax a little.

He looks at you and then back to his feet, “I can’t –” and he immediately regrets his words, as disappoint washes over your face, “I mean, I can stay for one song.” He offers.

You give him a grin and bring him inside.

Music fills the room as Jugram watches you play. His back is straight as an arrow, but not out of confidence, but out of nerves. I don’t belong here, he thinks to himself.

But your music snaps him out of his thoughts as you continue to play your pieces. Before he even realizes, he’s smiling as he watches you play. You beamed at him from your seat, as you continued to play. You look back to your music sheets and close your eyes, your fingers having memorized every note and crescendo.

You come to a stop. Without looking up, you ask “Will you come to my recital, Jugram?” But he was gone. The room empty once again.

It’s spring, and you’re struggling to breathe. Your caretaker watches you as the seamstress tightens your corset. Your débutante ball is tonight and all your etiquette training, tutoring and classes prepared you for this night. You were to be presented as a young woman of upper society.

You looked at yourself in the mirror: rosy lips, lashes long and thick, hair styled tastefully, with an exceptionally beautiful silk ball gown. An elegant necklace drapes over your décolletage, with matching earrings already in place. You were to be a vision to guests and suitors alike.

It’s spring and you were dreading nightfall. Upper society was so stiff with its rules and mannerisms. Your one solace was your piano. As the seamstress continues her tightening, you stare at your hands, covered in matching silk gloves as your dress. Long and thin, evidence of the years of piano playing etched on every single finger. You chuckled to yourself as the memories of Mr. Hirako’s tutelage floods your mind.

You rather prepare for another recital than for a ball. Sighing, you turned your head and looked out the window, the setting sun in the distance. It fills your room and the nearby meadows with a golden glow.

You wonder if Jugram will be there tonight. It had been a few years since that day in the music room. He never came to your recital, but he was always around the manor, practicing, training, preparing with the other squires.

Well, you gave a quiet laugh, he wasn’t a squire anymore. The once shy boy and nervous teen was now a calm, talented and confident knight. A faint blush spreads your face at the thought of him. He would politely engage with you if you were nearby, asking you about your music, how you were, and what was occupying your time, but he would never acknowledge your first recital, or any recitals you invited to him after that. On the rare occasion he would sit and listen to you to play, maybe that’s a recital in it of itself, you mused. He would applaud you once you were finished but spoke only a few words about your music and talent.

You two would be in the same room, but sometimes it felt like you were distances apart. A wall between him and you that your only your music would lower.

You weren’t sure if he was a friend or not. You would watch him from afar, how he commanded his small troop with a cool confidence. His once bruise-covered, shaking arms, held his sword and shield with grace and poise, while he was distant and cold with his men, there was a soft, respectful and caring tone with you.

The seamstress stepped away from you, finished with your dress and admiring her work, “she’s ready.”

Your caretaker eyes are filled with love and awe, “you look magnificent, Mistress! You’ll be the talk of the ball tonight.” You gave her a wry smile, “thank you.”

It’s spring and you were wistful, looking out your carriage. Your manor grows smaller in the distance as the night grows darker.

The carriage comes to a halt in front of the castle. The castle was large and imposing, made of bright white stone. Women and men dressed in exquisite silk, satin and velvet, as they mingled, chatted and drank through the halls.

You were immediately escorted to another room, with other ladies who were preparing for their debut as well. You recognized some of them – classmates and acquaintances from your lessons. You politely nodded your head at them, but kept your distance, rather looking out the window instead.

“Ugh, he’s so boring.” You heard one woman say, loudly. Her brown, almost black hair was styled in a French twist with a thin tiara on top of her head. Her dress was red, it almost reminded you of blood.

“Bambietta, he’s your fiancé!” Another woman with blonde hair in loose curls and a seafoam-coloured gown, whispered harshly. You pretended not to pay attention to them but watched them through the faint reflection of the window.

Bambietta Basterbine, you recalled. The daughter of a weapons manufacturer who was close to your uncle. You had only met her a handful of times but found her quite rude with how she treated servants and those of lower rank.

“No, it’s insulting!” Bambietta scoffed, “if he weren’t one of Lord Yhwach’s most trusted knights, he wouldn’t even be here. He is a peasant in knight’s armour.” She sneered. Your ears twitched, one of your uncle’s knights?

“But at least he’s handsome… Lord Yhwach has some pretty ugly soldiers in his army.” Her blonde friend quipped, trying to diffuse the situation.

You could see Bambietta roll her eyes, “and he’s probably terrible in bed. His friend, you know the one with the black hair. Hubert?” Bambietta grinned, licking her lips, “he was fun. And besides, I’ll have my pick of the litter if he doesn’t satisfy me.” Bambietta said with a dismissive tone.

Your eyes widened from hearing their conversation, but you kept your cool. This was between her and her fiancé. Although... Hubert… you knew vaguely of him within your uncle’s army… he was Jugram’s second-in-command.

You felt your body churn out of anxiety, but your heart felt like it was crumbling.

An older madame entered the room and ushered all the ladies together, including you. You were each to be escorted by a knight as you descended the royal steps. Your stomach was in knots with anxiety creeping up your body.

Bambietta was to be in front of you and you could tell she was in a foul mood with the way she was pouting and glaring at you and everyone in the room.

And soon, the knights entered. You recognized Jugram immediately, one of the taller knights. You thought you saw his eyes widen as he saw you, but his gaze diverted to Bambietta. He was decorated in a fine white uniform, reminding you of snow, with a turquoise fur trim running along his jacket and gold fixtures. His sword fastened at his hip, and long blonde hair tied in a loose ponytail. “Bambietta” Jugram said, a bit coldly you thought. He held his hand to Bambietta, who scoffed and begrudgingly held it.

You were one of the few without a fiancé and were to be assigned a knight to escort you tonight. Hubert, the man in your uncle’s army, the second-in-command to Jugram, and Bambietta’s bed partner, gave you a small smile and bowed, taking your hand, “it’ll be my honor to escort you tonight, milady.”

You gave a sad smile and extended your hand. He kissed the back of your hand, and you wanted to wince. But you recalled your etiquette training and remained polite.

The train of knights and ladies descended the steps as orchestral music filled the hall. You looked ahead of you, to Jugram’s back, as he confidently escorted Bambietta down the steps.

“Announcing Lady Bambietta of the Basterbine family, escorted by her fiancé, Grandmaster Jugram Haschwalth.”

Then it was you and Hubert, stepping down to the marble floor. Once all the pairs were called upon, the first dance commenced. You smiled politely as Hubert held you. His grip was too tight on your hip and arm, as you winced while you danced. Eventually the song came to an end, and you parted ways.

The elites of the upper society began to swarm you, prodding you on to take Hubert as a fiancé, how your uncle would support you on the endeavour, but you politely declined. Stepping away from the crowd, you found a balcony to decompress, and people watch.

Some couples were dancing still, including Jugram and Bambietta. Their movements were fluid and graceful. You could hear in the distance guests gossiping about them, how beautiful their family would be.

Once the song ended you followed Jugram to another balcony outside. He was shocked to see you, eyes wide as you tried to gather courage for what you were about to say.

“Bambietta isn’t good for you!” You yelled, as sadness enveloped you, “she’s been sleeping with Hubert, and has no issues with seeing other men besides you.”

The look Jugram gave you scared you. Cold, lifeless green eyes staring into your soul. “It’s my duty to Lord Yhwach to marry who he sees fit.” He stared at you, his voice devoid of its usual warmth for you, “it doesn’t matter to me, as long as she’s happy.” He pushed you aside, walking back to the hall, leaving you alone on the balcony.

It was spring and you wanted to cry.

It’s summer and you’re visiting your uncle’s manor. Nothing has changed from what you can see. The gardens are beautiful as ever, with your favourite flowers in full bloom. You’re greeted by familiar servants and staff, welcoming you back into your home as they take your belongings to your room.

You walked through the halls towards your music room. Passing by the window, you see a familiar scene of young pages training to become knights, of wooden swords and childish laughter. How nostalgic you thought.

Lord Yhwach is away but promised to visit in the coming days. Your uncle wanted you to enjoy your stay in his home for the time being, taking a break from “the disgusting air of the city” as he described it. He didn’t like you living in the city, but you preferred it, playing recitals and teaching students music.

He also didn’t like that you remained unmarried. Neither did the rest of your family and your caretaker. Suitors would visit you from afar, and past visits back home would have a man waiting for your return, but you would dismiss each one.

Now you were reaching the “ineligible” age. An age where the annoying, nosy and rude ladies of upper society turned their noses at unmarried women. Sighing, you entered your music room. A song would distract you from those thoughts.

Your piano room was clean, albeit a bit stuffy. You opened the large windows by them to air out the room. The faint sound of children laughing can be heard, followed by the buzzing of cicadas, bringing a smile to your lips.

It’s summer and you deserve to enjoy yourself at your own pace.

You lift the cover of your piano to find clean and polished keys. You run your fingers gently across them, no sound being made. You settle yourself and decide on what piece to play. Your mind flashes to one of your first concerts in the city, where you received a standing ovation, and a large bouquet of your favourite flowers awaited your waiting room. There was no name attached to the bouquet, other than the note of “Congratulations.” Signed with your uncle’s crest. To this day you figured it was him. Recital after recital, you would find beautiful bouquets awaiting you with a note from your uncle.

Your fingers glided over the keys as you played the first piece from your first ever recital. The one where you had dragged Jugram to listen to that one winter’s day. You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes, letting your fingers play the song from memory. You mind wandered as you continued to play, thinking of Jugram.

In the coming days after the ball, to save face, you had congratulated him on his engagement. You were a witness to his coronation as Imperial Advisor to your uncle. You had attended his wedding to Bambietta. And then you ran to the city.

Your hands were moving on their own as you recalled all of it, as tears started to prick your eyes. As the piece was nearing its end, you felt your hands grow heavy and you stopped.

“That was an old piece you played.” Jugram’s voice startled you.

“Jugram! I didn’t notice you were here.” You exclaimed, jumping out of your seat. You bowed to him as he did to you. “Did you just come in?” You asked, wondering when he entered the room.

“The servants told me you had arrived. I knew I would find you here.” He said, his voice even and calm. His uniform was stark white, he looked even taller than before.

But his green eyes were soft today, unlike the time at the ball. This was the Jugram you wanted to remember.

“Please excuse my intrusion,” a maid servant announced, as she brought tea and snacks for you.

“Oh thank you, but could you bring these outside? I’d like to enjoy them with Advisor Haschwalth.” You smiled, as the three of you were led outside.

The two of you sat in the gazebo in silence, as the wind tickled your hair. The sun was slowly beginning its descent into the horizon.

“How have you been, Jugram? How is Bambietta?”

Jugram sipped on his water, as his eyes lingered to the flowers nearby. “She’s fine.” He murmured.

“And you?” You asked again.

“Fine.” He said, always a man with few words. The air was warm, but comforting, but you noticed him unbutton his jacket.

“I’m always surprised to see you wearing your uniform during this heat.” You laughed, to which Jugram gave a slight smile.

“The fabric is suitable for all seasons, but it’s quite warm today.” He mused, taking another sip of water.

Silence grew again, as the two of you stared out in the distance.

“I –”

“You –”

The two of you spoke at the same time. Jugram ushered you to go first.

“I’m sorry about the ball. I know it’s been so many years, but I’m sorry for how I acted. It wasn’t my place.” You apologized, looking at him. Jugram’s face was expressionless.

“Bambietta and I are separating for now.” He murmured, still staring at the garden. Was he… disappointed? Relieved? You couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jugram. That must have been difficult for you both to agree on.” You sighed.

Jugram gave you a sad smile. “She was upset with the bouquets I was having delivered.”

Your eyes widened in surprised, “isn’t that a bit hypocritical of her? But I’m surprised, you had someone else?”

Jugram gave a dry chuckle, “no, I never bedded them, but I suppose it was unfair to her that I would gift flowers to someone and visit the city every now and then.” Your heart panged again, sadness washing over you that Jugram’s affections laid with someone else... again.

“Are you going to be with this person once your separation is finalized?” You asked, unsure if you could handle his answer.

“I want to.” He said calmly, his face again, remained expressionless, “but that depends on her.” He mused, his lips forming to a wistful smile.

“Do you regret what happened?” You asked softly, trying to remain composed for whatever Jugram may say.

“I have no regrets.” He murmured, “I made my own choice to marry her, and it’s now my choice to separate from her and be with someone else.”

“But what about my uncle?” You asked, worried that Jugram may have been on the receiving end of your uncle’s ruthlessness.

“He signed off on it. I suppose whatever deal he had with the Basterbine family was fulfilled.” Jugram said, wistfully.

The silence between you two grew again as the sun began to set.

“Did you like the bouquets?” He asked, staring at you.

“The bouquets?” You asked in confusion. “Wait, that… that was from you?”

Jugram nodded. “I attended some of your recitals.” He said calmly, finishing his glass of water. “You are truly a gift from God.” He quietly said.

“I thought they were from Lord Yhwach all this time…” You said, your voice wavering. Your heart was beating so loudly. You began to feel felt faint.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there? I—” You asked, trying to calm yourself.

Jugram remained silent, as he continued to stare into the gardens.

“If I didn’t see you play at least once in my life,” Jugram said, “I would die with that regret.” He whispered, looking at the distance with a longing in eyes. “And then one recital, became multiple.”

Jugram got up from his seat and stood in front of you, extending his hand. You gave him yours, to which he bowed and kissed the back of your hand. “Please allow me to escort you to dinner tonight, your highness.” Jugram asked.

The days are long, and the nights are warm. Your body aches and your pussy is sore, sticky remnants covering your thigh. You had consummated your marriage to Jugram.

Your nipples are sensitive from Jugram’s teeth marks. Your lips are puffy and swollen from the kisses he stole from you.

Although everything hurt, you ached for more of him.

His cheeks were slightly flushed for the evening’s earlier activities, but now he laid asleep next you, his broad chest moving to every hitch of breath he was taking. His face was relaxed, his lips weren’t frowning, his eyebrows weren’t crossed. He looked at peace. You gently placed your hand over his heart, your long fingers gently tapping to the song from your youth.

Yet like everything Jugram does, he surprises you as his hand interlocks with yours.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Jugo.” You whispered, kissing him softly on the lips. “I couldn’t help myself.” You murmured, kissing him again, “you just looked so content.”

Jugram cupped your face in his hand as the two of you laid side-by-side. “You must be sore from tonight.” He said, kissing your forehead.

You felt heat rise below and peered down below the blanket. Jugram’s cock was growing stiff. You bit your lip in anticipation, reaching your hand down below, but Jugram stopped you.

“Rest, my highness.” Jugram murmured, “I can wait.”

You pouted at him, “can I watch at least?” You politely asked, giving him an innocent look. Jugram looked at you, eyes wide at the question. Your hand reached down and gently grabbed his growing erection, sliding your hand up and down.

Jugram grunted at the feeling, and pulled your arm away from his cock, replacing it with his own. “What her majesty wants, her majesty will get.” He whispered into your ear, as you watched Jugram slide his hand over his stiff cock. Precum leaked from the tip as Jugram watched you. He pinched your nipple and stole another kiss from you.

You moaned into him, throwing your arms around his neck, but he pulled away, continuing to pump his cock.

Watching him left a familiar ache of your own, as your hand darted to your pussy, rubbing your clit gently watching Jugram masturbate on top of you. You slipped one of your fingers inside, whimpering as you thought of Jugram’s cock inside you instead.

Jugram’s movements grew more erratic, and his breath more laboured as he watched you play with yourself, moaning his name. He watched you insert a second finger inside you, arching your back at the feeling, another moan of his name escaping his lips.

It was too much for him, as Jugram closed his eyes and groaned your name, his cum thick on your stomach. You slipped your fingers out from your pussy, using them to scoop his cooling cum of your body and tasting it. “Delicious.” You teased, licking your fingers clean.

Jugram panted, but gave you a wry smile, “you will be the death of me, your majesty.”

THANKS FOR READING!! This was originally planned to be super angst heavy, but my brain went another way haha! Here are some notes for this fic:

The title of the song on AO3 is from Duran Duran's "The Chauffeur" (one of my top favourite songs of all time), but I was specifically listening to Sneaker Pimps' cover of it.

Hanon's Virtuoso Pianist, is actually a great tool to build your finger strength and helps with scales and technical studies for piano playing.

The Bach piece that reader plays with Jugram in the room is Bach's Fugue No. 16 in G Minor from Book 2 of The Well-Tempered Clavier.

For the reason I chose Bambietta is based off this goofy omake between her and Jugram lmao

I really enjoyed writing this fic, so I hope you all enjoy it as well!!

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

TURBULENCE ✈ JUGRAM HASCHWALTH X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 27: PLANE SEX

🐙 requested by: Anonymous. Hiii, the theme for the event is a bomb😳Do you write for the Sternitters too? (Bleach). If so, I’d take a Jugram Haschwalth for the airplane sex kink. The gender can be female or gn, I don’t mind. Thanks in advance! ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. modern au. business trip. airplane sex. 🐙 wc: 2.4k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

Ah, he has always been next to the general director. He even works more than him. Jugram this, Jugram that. Go here, go there… 

“Jugram-sama, I just received an e-“ you inform but get interrupted by him. “I know…” the blonde answers, checking his phone for the third time since you both seated on that plane. 

Uncomfortable, both try to get your legs ready for a lot of hours over the clouds. No matter how much you were -the Silbern company- willing to pay, a last-minute flight across the world only had barely two tickets available on economy. Forget first class, not even a single one free on business class. 

However, if Yhwach ordered Jugram to do it, he must do it. And you, his assistant, tried your best to find accommodation… took whatever it took. 

You keep quiet as his crystalline eyes fix on the screen of one of his six phones. What an amazing beauty this man holds, with manly features but still delicate to be mistaken by an angel… still, he might be the loneliest of them all, by choice perhaps, pushing everybody away… 

“Did you pay wifi on board, right? I’ll need it” he utters, as cold as always. As serious as ever. 

You nod, searching for a little card with a special code they gave you when you were checking in. 

“Here, Jugram-sama” you give it to him, grazing your fingers. He is not really looking at you, he just seems especially glued to the screen. 

It doesn’t take much for the plane’s doors to be finally closed and for a flight attendant to reach your spot. A young beautiful woman, dressed in the airline’s sexy uniform, stops right by your side noticing Jugram still on his phone. 

“Ah, Sir. Excuse me, we are about to take off, you should put your phone down until we reach cruise alt-“ she says, shutting up the moment the blonde looks at her in a very “not amused” grim. 

 The immediate change of that woman when seeing his handsome face isn’t something new for you, in fact, the flight attendant didn’t even notice you were also on your phone. She immediately recognize him, acting all silly and flirtatious towards him. 

“Sorry. Will shut it off in a moment” Jugram says, blocking his phone and sliding it inside the chest pocket of his white suit. 

You do the same, sighing. It’s ok, the flight attendant won’t notice, nor will Jugram. He doesn’t care about you; you are just a mere software that breathes and speaks to help him… or so you think. 

“Fasten it. Tight” he suddenly says, bending just a little to reach for your seatbelt and adjust it closer to your lower stomach. And you gasp, when did he ever cared about your safety? 

You nod, again. Out of words, even more than always. You can’t say much, you just fix your eyes into the little screen in front of you. Hot ears, hot cheeks… a simple touch of this man, and you are sent to heaven. 

And, speaking of heaven, soon and with your ears popping the plane leaves the ground to be finally airborne. In complete silence, the only sounds you are blessed with are the roaring of the engines and the little creeks of the plastic insides of the plane. 

Time flies, they say, when you are comfortable… however, this wasn’t exactly the definition of comfort. You tried to squeeze yourself in that tiny seat, as much as possible. Your left elbow carved into the plane’s fuselage wall, and your right arm crossed over your chest. You don’t wanna take Jugram much space, and as much as you wish, you don’t even dare claiming the middle armrest for your own. 

“You look uncomfortable, (Name)” he mutters, this time with his eyes scanning a haggard magazine. You have no idea how he does it, but he sees you without looking. 

“Not to sound very cocky, but economy nowadays is a torture… we haven’t even left Germany, and my legs are already dead, I wonder if I’ll be able to walk when we get to Japan” you whisper, as the lights of the cabin have already been turned off and some snoring from other passengers filter in between the sound of the engines. 

“Try to rest, we will need energy” he simply says, closing the magazine and turning his head to the side. His eyes closed, but his facial muscles still tensed.

When will you rest, Jugram Haschwalth? 

Seven hours in, and that water bottle you chugged in while bored, has started to affect you. But how to leave your seat to go to the bathroom, if that would mean crawling on top of Jugram who has finally -incredible to you- fallen asleep? 

Yet, your bladder has a limit and after several minutes trying to forget about your necessities, urgence takes over… 

Taking a deep breath before starting to move, you stand up. You hit your head with the overhead compartment and swear in silence. Then, facing Jugram, your left leg goes first, passing over his long legs. And just like this, with your hands on each side of his face, on the headrest, your hips seem like straddled on his, even though your crotches aren’t touching. 

A soft rocking motion, known as turbulence, seems to complot against you as it becomes a little more noticeable. It obviously affects your balance, but you are not willing to wake this man up, much less with you in such position. 

However, Jugram seems to never really rest, and suddenly a pair of hands land on your waist. 

“Careful” he whispers, opening two shining stars per eyes. His hands are strong, his hold making you feel secure. 

“I’m sorry, I had to go to the toile-“

“You should have asked me to move…” he answers back, helping you to reach the aisle. 

You nod, out of words, and quickly run -as best as you can- to the toilet. You can’t normalize your breathing for at least a couple of minutes after you finally relieve yourself and in the mirror in front of you, you try your best to fix your image… 

Yet, seems destiny has decided to play with you, once again…

The up and down motions increase, turbulence becoming more and more noticeable, and a flight attendant asking you to hurry and go back to your seat once you’ve managed to leave the restroom.  

You grunt; why in the world there isn’t something able to deal with turbulence yet? Grabbing anything, really, while you walk to your very uncomfortable seat, you pray for Jugram not to be asleep.

“Uh, Jugram-sama, I’m ba-!” you try to ask for him to move so you can squeeze back into your seat. But, of course, to make it a lot more shamefully to you, turbulence makes you jump. 

The blonde once again snatches you, this time saving you big time not to hurt yourself badly. You get locked in his arms, on top of his lap. Your face close to his, noses almost touching, eyes fixed on each other’s. 

“You ok? Did you hurt yourself? Is your head ok?” he asks, touching the back of your head, grabbing you real close to his body, seriously worried. 

You nod, finally breathing back. 

“I’m ok… thank you for saving me, Jugram-sama” you whisper, letting your forehead rest on his shoulder. You are sure you shouldn’t have done such thing, but you couldn’t help it… it is hella scary to feel like gravity has abandoned you. 

“Don’t… worry” he whispers back, allowing you to rest as much as you wish on him. His hand on your head makes it clear, “stay here if you wish”

The scent of his skin, and the sweet perfume he wears, makes you dizzy… what a delicious combination. The warmth of his flesh on your lips, invites you to kiss him… how much you wish you could do it, but just the way the plane moves will have to do, an indirect kiss that can’t be call as it. 

And, the more the plane moves, the more you softly jump on his lap. And Jugram seems to tense, more and more… is it that maybe the constant graze of your legs on his crotch, the warm breath of your mouth, or your nose buried on his skin it is making it really difficult for him? 

You notice his muscles becoming stiff, and thankful for the darkness surrounding the fuselage, you take a little bit of advantage of the situation… I’m sorry, Jugram-sama, this is a dream came true. 

However, common sense comes back to you; “Sorry, Jugram-sama! I’m gonna go back to my seat. I’m sorry...” you try to stand up, but you can’t. 

“Stay…” he grunts in your ear, pressing your body, harder, against him. This time you can feel a man’s reaction to a beautiful woman jumping on him… 

You look at him; this time your eyes are imbued with lust. You only just needed a plead, a single word… you are just a human, you have been pushed to the limit… You have always wanted him… and apparently, he has always wanted you. 

Perhaps a couple of seconds passed, but to you it felt like an eternity. His hand landed on your cheek, with its fingers reaching the back of your head. 

In silence, trying to recognize each other’s traits with the soft led lights of the bathroom sign on the back of the plane, you spend some more minutes until he devours you in one kiss. 

It is more than magical and also painfully needy; you have no idea if he had been wanting to kiss you since forever, or this is just something out of the blue. And who cares? Kiss me more, Jugram-sama. 

Indecently, the kiss become more and more deep, in a full plane, surrounded by strangers… and his hardness keeps growing, as if was searching for your core to go desperately deep inside. 

“Toilet, go. Wait for me” he commands in between tongues playing. 

You widen your eyes; he wants to fuck you in that tiny bathroom?

“Please…” he adds, again pleading, begging. 

You nod, this time biting your lower lip. He helps you; the turbulence continues but has decreased in intensity. You walk to the bathroom in the back, praying for nobody, including the crew, to see you. 

Your clearly agitated -and horny- imagery reflects on the mirror of the tiny toilet. You wonder how is Jugram going to manage to get inside without being noticed. 

Trust Jugram Haschwalth, he is not only wise, he is rich and the second hand of one of the largest companies in the world… 

“Miss, if I give you my number, would you close the bathroom for me and my assistant? She is not feeling well and I will try to help her. Please, contact me soon, we are soon purchasing a private jet, and we will need a flight attendant like you to join us” 

“Oh! Of course, Jugram-sama! Thank you!! And please, don’t worry, take all the time you need!” 

A sudden knock on the door announces he is here, not even a minute has passed. You open, sticking yourself against the back of the toilet. Amazed you noticed nobody but him around, where are the flight attendants? 

There is no time to think, as he gets inside and closes the door right behind him. Pleased with the loud noises of that Boeing 777, he turns you around. Your belly hits the mini counter, Jugram’s hands lowering your bamboula pants. 

“I don’t know why you chose to wear these today, but I’m so glad you did” he grunts in your ear, as it was hella easy to lower them down and expose your ass. 

You were about to reply it was because of comfort, but it’d be pointless to add anything at all. He lifts your right leg on top of the counter, for better access, feeling your wetness with his free hand. 

His chest hits your back, his chin carved on your shoulder, both looking at each other through the mirror. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time… I’m sorry it has to be on a plane’s toilet” he says, smirking. 

For a long time, Jugram-sama? Amazed, amused, impressed… the very first time he is showing you a smile and it’s when he has his fingers inside your folds… 

“I- I don’t- I don’t care…”  you simply answer, because you can’t even think straight; by now, Jugram has started fingering you like nobody else did before. 

Your inner thighs tremble, your skin becomes bumpy. Your hand tries to reach for Jugram’s hips, you want him closer -inside-. And he understands his job, immediately. 

“You want me to fuck you, mh?” Jugram asks, pinching your cheeks and making you look yourself in front of the mirror. 

“yes… please…” you plead, lifting your hips, grabbing yourself from the little counter in front of you. It isn’t easy not to lose balance on such a tiny place, on a plane with occasional turbulence. 

Jugram, however, seems not to notice the motion of the plane and keeps both feet steadily on the ground. He lowers his zipper, freeing his sex from his white pants. Ready, so ready to impale you, he doesn’t even take a single moment to do it. 

His strong hand lands on your mouth the moment he finally gets deep inside you; a Boeing might be loud, but your moan could have been heard by others.

The slaps against your ass and thighs force you to put your hands on the mirror in front, where both never stopped looking at each other. It is both magical and perverted the way  you enjoy this moment through the reflection. 

One, two, three. More and more. But is not enough, is not deep enough… “Come here…” he commands, turning you around. 

You pant, legs trembling, wanting more and more. 

Jugram sits on the toilet and spreads his arms to receive you. And you immediately understand; time to bounce on his hard sex. 

You let yourself fall on his lap; the need allows his dick to slide right in with no difficulty whatsoever. Facing your blonde lover snatches your lips in a feverish kiss, his hands press the small of your back against him, and his legs begin to bounce along with you… ah, deep Jugram-sama; deep, fast… faster… 

And now turbulence is making it even better, don’t you think?!

Taglist of amazing babes: @awas-posts @missfuriosa @theneighbourhoodferret @cyberdazetragedy @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919

[animeaestheticsthings]

The adorable gang.😍😍🥹🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻

[plavi]

Jugram Haschwalth 🛡⚔

Young (kid, teen) vs. old (adult) manga panel comparisons

[fallinblossoms]

BLEACH:Thousand-Year Blood War Part 2 - The Separation

[plavigmaz]

Some new-ish doodles of the best pairing -- IseHasch!

Ok but hear me out: as much as it is an unusual/rare pair and many won't agree at first, I am still here to enjoy it lol. They compliment each other really well. Both hardworking and serious. He knows of her, acknowledges her kido skill and compliments her on it too. Also, in one of the translation he calls her "my dear" and he doesn't say that to anybody else like hello?? they both idiots in love your honor. Sword x Sword, paperwork in rovu, IseHasch.

(HC shenanigans with @abri-chan)

[my0vershareworld]

𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕖, 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖'𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖

Pairing: Cang Du, Bazz-B, Jugram Harschwalth, Gremmy Thomeaux x GN!Human reader

Genre: Fluff, Headcanons.

CW: None

Requested by @sahara-solaris-solace: Hello I read about your Sternritter headcanon. May I request u do part 2 involving Cang Du, Bazz B, Jugram and Gremmy? Please

A/N: WAHHH I LOVE CANG THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! these are all such a lovely characters. but sowwy abt the suggestive gestures i rlly can not think of how would they do it so uhhh ye have only gremmy doing it bc little shit move go brr

Cang Du

you told him is valentine. he was confuzzled on what was it about so he took a few time to listen to you and what you meant

after that he goes out his way to get some gifts and allat lovely things and all the things you love to give it to you

"I'm sorry for not knowing, but here..I got you these"

he said handing you all the gifts, flowers, things you love, chocolate

he totally pay for those.

very serious about spending all the time in the world with you

Bazz-B

get angry when you told him is love day

"IDIOT!- WHY DIDN'T YOU TOLD ME SOONER!?"

he said before storming off all angy

before he comes back with gifts and flowers (for both apologizing for yelling and for valentine)

"tch..sorry for- yelling or whatever- just take these, alright?!-"

oh boy he was so nervous and red as hell

give this boy a kiss and he'll melt before storming off like usual all flustered

Jugram Haschwalth

told him is valentine and he'll be confused before explaining it to him

a way to show love so he got up and walk out silently without a words

come back with good expensive ass gifts for no reason (that he totally paid for)

"I apologize for not knowing about this, next time I'll shall remember and get you a gift sooner, love"

god what a charmer even though his face is so fucking dead you could tell he love you more than anything..well uh not more than Yhwach but still-

Gremmy Thomeaux

LITTLE SHIT.

why in 100 versions of hell and heaven are you with him

when you tell him is love day he'll chuckles and look at you and go

"are you expecting a gift?"

he said with his little shit eating grin before walking away

he's taking his time to think of what gift to get for you

instead his room is now filled with all the gifts he come up with and imagine and he got tired of accidentally using his power so he just.. get them all and give it to you

I don't even know how much gifts you get but like..is a lot and I can't explain some of them-

"well here's your gifts, I got tired of thinking so have these. if you want something more tell me"

he said with his little SHITTY ASS WINK and walk off

[spider-lily-infestation]

hello 👋

can I request some jugram and nanao icons from bleach? not sure about what theme? maybe some theme you had been wanting to do for a while but hadn't had the chance to?

[tatakaeeren]

#ZoomAndEnhanceHisBeauty

[satsugacafe]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐅𝐮𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈𝐭 𝐁𝐞 | (𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦)

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Ishida Ryuken, Urahara Kisuke, Kyoraku Shunsui, Jugram Haschwalth, Kuchiki Byakuya

➳❥ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: female reader (AFAB), fingering, spanking, oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talking, manhandling, edging (squint), brat taming, top!reader and sub!reader (cuz you know, reader teasing before control is taken away)

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: You learn that it’s not nice to tease your lover.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

➳❥ Ishida Ryuken

The soft hum of the air conditioner thrumming in the background while Ryuken scribbled away at his reports was all that filled his office. His office was as spotless as his reputation. You, on the other hand, were much more content with eradicating the annoying sound and filling the room with something more…indulgent.

Positioning yourself just out of his line of sight, you casually leaned against the desk, admiring the way his nimble fingers gripped his pen, or how he would adjust his glasses ever so often, followed by a lick of his lips. Your blouse, deliberately unbuttoned a little too low and revealing at the top, displayed an ample amount of your cleavage which peaked even more with your movements. As for your skirt, well, it wasn’t any better than the blouse—short enough to flirt with propriety, and tight enough to cling to your curves like a second skin.

“You’re working so hard Ryuken,” you teased lightly as you shifted your weight to ensure your skirt strained against your hips and thighs while your fingers idly traced along the polished edge of this desk. “Don’t you ever take a break?”

His pen paused mid-stroke, though he didn’t immediately lift his gaze. Slowly, his deep blue eyes flicked briefly over you before returning to his paper, the muscle in his jaw tightening from the mere glance at you. “Please don’t test my patience,” he muttered, stiffly, too stiff to be stern. In his brief glance, you took in the way his eyes fell upon the swell of your breasts and felt heated.

Leaning closer, your arm snaked around his shoulders, the position allowed for your breasts to almost brush against his arm as you pushed your chest forward. “I’m just trying to help,” you purred and tilted your head to meet his eyes. “Don’t you agree with a little distraction being good for productivity?”

Ryuken’s hand stilled completely as his breathing increased under your touch. Leaning in further, you placed your hand over his, your fingers idly tracing the veins as you licked your lips and leaned into his face. “Don’t overwork yourself to death Ryuken, I’m here to help, remember?” you whispered inches from his lips, ghosting the corner with a phantom touch.

His gaze finally locked onto yours, sending a shiver down your spine. Before you knew it, he stood abruptly, kicking the chair away and reaching out to grab you by your arm. In an instant, you were pressed against his desk—sandwiched—feeling his erection against your ass. “You think this is a game?” he whispered coldly, though his actions betrayed as his hands gripped your hips firmly, grounding them into his crotch. “You’ve been pushing me all day, not having a single idea of what you’re asking for.”

Before you reply with a smart-ass remark, you felt his hands snake under your skirt and pushed your panty aside to ran two fingers through your folds. Your words were swallowed at the back of your throat, and in place was a loud relieving moan. The way his fingers toyed with your clit, rubbing and pinching the delicate nub has you vibrating in his hold, unfortunately, he wasn’t allowing you to control the pace. His other hand gripping your hip halted your movements as he dragged his fingers down to your slit and pushed them in, wasting no time finding your sweet spot.

The whimpers that left your throat matched the sloppy sounds of his fingers dragging through your pussy. Loud, wet and obscene.

“Look at you. Wanting my attention so badly,” he darkly laughed as his hands moved from your hip to grip the back of your neck and pull you upwards to meet his chest. His lips grazed the shell of your ear as he kissed your lobe, running them lower to meet the junction of your neck. The combination of his lips and fingers—those sinfully, articulate fingers that massaged every spot perfectly—on your skin left you a gasping mess.

You weren’t sure whether to keep your eyes open, roll them, or have them shut. His digits were sliding deliciously in and out your pussy causing you to clench around them, sucking them back in. “Look at you, so eager,” he groaned into your neck, enjoying the warmth and tightness. “You want more don’t you?”

You nodded because speaking wasn’t a function available to you any longer. Yet at the same time, Ryuken, crooked his fingers against your sweet spot, purposefully rubbing the tips on the area, leaving you gasping for breath. Your fingers were gripping the edge of his desk tightly while you instinctively rocked your hips for more. The pressure was building, and you could feel and hear it coming—the increase in your juices flowing was evident. His hand was coated in your arousal as it flowed from your pussy like you had a leaking tap.

“Ryu…ken, pl–…ease, fuck, yes!” You weren’t even sure what you were asking for in the heat of the moment.

Arching your back and crying out his name in syllables, his lips feverishly worked along your neck, kissing and taunting you further until you could take it no longer. Unable to control yourself, with a wicked crook of his fingers, you shrieked and came all over his hand. However, his fingers continued to move through the tightness of your walls around him, groaning at the sensation as he pushed them deeper. Your body trembled as you reached behind to hold onto him for support, but Ryuken was faster. Just as you came, he pulled out with a loud squelch, spun you around and sat you on his desk.

The sound of his belt unbuckling snapped you out of your haze as you looked over at him unzipping his trousers. His cock sprang free—thick, long and curved, just the way you remembered. At the sight, your pussy clenched and a fresh flow of arousal oozed you. “Ryuken?”

“Did you think I was going to let you off with that alone?” he muttered as he stepped forward and pried your legs apart, pulling you to the edge so your legs could easily wrap around his waist. “You’ve been teasing me all day—there’s no such thing as letting you off the hook with one round.”

➳❥ Jugram Haschwalth

“So serious, as always,” you purred, tilting your head to study his face. His sharp jawline, perfect golden hair, and piercing blue eyes made him appear as if sculpted by divine hands. Yet his cold demeanour gave the impression he was untouchable, unmoveable. “Do you ever take a break from being the right-hand man, Jugram? Or is being the Grandmaster your entire personality?”

His fingers still for a moment—reading the letter was placed on pause—before his gaze flickered to you, and then back at the letter. “I do not recall giving you permission to address me by my first name,” he replied calmly—almost detached.

“Oh, so formal.” You smirked, slithering yourself closer to where he stood against the bookshelf in his study. “Maybe that’s the problem, Jugram. You’re always so stiff. So uptight.” You leaned forward once you were close enough to bridge the gap and allow your body to brush against him. “Don’t you ever want to let loose? Relax? Or is that against Quincy regulations too?”

His hand tightened imperceptibly on the letter, his knuckles whitening. Still, he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, his eyes remained firmly on the paper in front of him, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. Deciding to push him further, emboldened by his silence, you stepped even closer and placed your hand on his wrist. “I bet even your soldiers wonder. Does the Grandmaster ever let anyone close? Or are you just as cold in…other areas?”

Unable to recognise the speed of his following movements, you found yourself pinned between him and the bookshelf. Both hands were placed beside your head as he inched his face closer to yours. His jaw clenched, the tension radiating from him was intense, as his breathing sounded strained. “Careful,” he lowly warned.

“Or what?” you pushed, leaning even closer, your lips hovering near his, and yet he made no move to pull away. “What’s the worst you’ll do? Scold me? Deduct my non-existent points from the Quincy honour roll?”

For a moment, the room seemed to freeze. His movements were fluid while he held onto the last of his restraints, and stepped closer, the plane of his chest just an inch away from pressing against your chest and immobilising you completely. His towering form loomed over you, his cold eyes burning with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. “Do you think I haven’t noticed and understood what you’ve been doing all day?”

“And here I thought you were too busy paying attention to your reports,” you quipped with a grin. As the words left your lips, his right hand slid down to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes and maintain eye contact. Your breathing hitched the moment his hand came in contact with your skin. Firm and commanding like its owner, and yet, despite his icy aura, it sparked a heat.

From your chin, his hand gripped the nape of your neck instead, tilting your head upwards. Brushing his lips against yours, you felt your knees buckle under you—thankful for the arm that snaked around your waist. “I believe our situation is quite unfair at this moment,” he whispered darkly against your lips before dipping his head to run his lips along your jaw to meet your ear. “Shall I fix it?”

You felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation as he pulled away from your body, guiding you to bend over the back of the sofa. There was a faint click of his tongue, sounding rather disappointing, as he bunched the hem of your dress around your waist and saw how you lacked underwear. The sight of your folds all wet and pluff was enough for him to lose a fraction of composure and remove his trench coat, followed by his belt and trousers.

“Look at you, frolicking about with no panties,” he growled into your ear as he pulled you into an arch. His hand came down to slap your ass before he rubbed the area and landed another on the other cheek. With ease, his fingers made contact with your pussy, prompting you to curl your fingers into the plush of the sofa.

He wasn’t gentle as they plunged into your heat, releasing loud squelching sounds as he pushed his digits deeper. “And you expect me to just give you what you seek when you parade around like this?” he muttered rather disappointingly. His cock brushed against your thigh and your pussy quivered, more juices trickled down, something his eyes didn’t miss, making him scoff.

“Look at you,” he continued, “dripped all over and desperate for my touch. Is this all for me?” Swallowing hard to reply, your words were cut off by a loud smack to your ass.

“…Yes,” you choked out as his fingers retracted.

Lining himself to your entrance, one hand on your waist, the other guiding his cock inside, you both moaned in bliss at the sensation of him being sheathed. Unlike most sessions, he would take his time to slide in, however this time, he buried himself to the hilt and gave you no time to adjust to the rhythm of his thrusts as he started his pace. From moaning in bliss, you were whimpering and squealing at the fast and hard pace he set, his hand preventing you from squirming too much.

Leaning down to press his chest against your back, his lips found your ear. “Why are you running? I don’t recall running away when you had your fun,” he stated in between his grunts, pausing to suck his lower lips between his teeth when you clenched around him. “Enjoy this as much as you did teasing me.”

And with that, he pulled you up to meet his thrusts. The loud sounds of his hips meeting your ass as he drove himself deeper, moulding your insides to fit him perfectly as they always did. For every brush of his tip against your sweet spot, you clenched around him and oozed more arousal—the slick sound created by his cock sliding in and out fuelled him to move faster.  

“You wanted my attention,” he groaned with a low growl. “Now that you have it, let’s see how well you can handle it.”

➳❥ Urahara Kisuke

The air in Urahara’s shop was humid and filled with the scent of sex as he leaned against his workbench, hat tilted downwards to partially obscure his face, but not to hide the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His shirt hung open, loose and wrinkled, baring his chest and midsection to the faint glow of the shop’s overhead lights. His breath hitched, a low vibration in his throat as your lips brushed along the base of his cock, teasing the sensitive skin with the barest hint of suction.

“You’re enjoying this far too much, love,” he murmured in amusement with a hint of a strain. You could sense his undeniable frustration, yet you chose to ignore it.

Glancing at him, your hand wrapped loosely around the base of his cock, fingers trailing agonisingly slow from the base to the tip while your lips followed, littering tiny kisses. His twitched in your grip, swallowing a groan when you lips reached the tip, and your tongue swirled the head. “What can I say? I enjoy seeing you squirm,” you chuckled with a grin before you tongue shifting to trace the underside of his head, just enough to make him groan and buck his hips forwards instinctively.

You watched as his hands twitched at his sides, gripping the edge of the bench as he forced himself to keep still. His self-control was impressive, considering the way you kept your touch deliberately featherlight, never giving him enough to push him over the edge. “Squirming am I?” he panted, though the faint tremor in his voice betrayed him.

You hummed in response and pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of his cock before pulling away entirely to sluggishly give him teasing strokes. His hips buck slightly, chasing the fleeting warmth of your mouth, but you held him firmly, pulling back enough to maintain control.

“Now, now,” he muttered playfully with an underlying warning. “I hope you realise what you’re getting yourself into.”

Feigning innocence, you raised your brow and tightened your grip, your thumb brushing over the sensitive slit at the head of his cock, earning you a delicious groan form him. “Oh? And what would that be?”

He chuckled, though it sounded strained, his knuckled whitening as he gripped the bench harder. “Pushing your luck, for starters.”  

“Oh please, Kisuke. You enjoying teasing, but can never take what you dish out,” you remarked and leaned forward to flick your tongue against him before you took him into your mouth, just enough to make his words falter. You felt his muscles tense under your palm, his cock throbbing against your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks and drew back slowly. But as he began to let out a groan signally his release nearing, you stopped, pulling back once more and gave him a sweet-eyed smile.

Instantly, his eyes snapped opened, and he tilted his head to look down at you, the faintest glimmer of mischief faded into a predatory look. “Alright then,” he softly said with a dangerous edge. “I did warn you.”

Before you could react, his hand shot out, gripping your hair and pulling your closer with a firm but not painful grip. The suddenness of it made your breath hitch, your hands reaching out to brace yourself against his thighs as he guided your mouth back to his cock. This time, there was no reason for teasing—his hips pressed forward as he pushed himself past your lips, filling your mouth and forcing your to take him deeper.

“Much better,” he murmured lowly with satisfaction as he held you there for a moment, his cock throbbing at the back of your throat. You wanted to smile at his frustration, laugh even, but when he fingers tightened in your hair to control your movements as he began to guide you up and down his length, the idea was cut. He was far from gentle.

The teasing was clearly over, and Kisuke made it abundantly clear who was in charge now. His other hand found your chin, tilting your head just slightly to adjust the angle, allowing him to slight even deeper. The sound of your muffled moans mixed with the obscenely wet noises of your mouth on him, filled the quiet room.

“Sound like a good girl when you’re not being a menace,” he breathed with a smirk, though his voice was strained, his usual playful tone now thick with lust. His hips rolled against your face, each thrust measured and precise, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every movement, producing a series of gurgles he seemed to enjoy.

You felt your eyes water as he held you in place, his thumb brushing against your cheek as if you sooth you. Despite his dominance, there was still tenderness in his touch, a gentle reminder that he was paying attention to every little reaction, ensuring you were comfortable as he pushed you to your limits.

“Ah, that’s it,” he groaned, his head tipping back and baring the delicious curve of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he allowed himself to lose some of his composure. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, his control slipping as he felt the heat coiling tighter and tighter in his core. “Just like that…don’t stop now.”

When he finally came, his cock throbbed against your tongue as he spilled into your mouth, his cum hot and salty as it coated your throat. He held you there for a moment, his chest heaving as he rode out the waves of his orgasm while his fingers loosening in your hair. As he pulled back, his cock slipping from your mouth, he let out a chuckle, his grin returning in full colour despite the faint blush on his cheeks. “Well,” he hummed, “you certainly know how to keep things…interesting.”

“That’s the perks of being with you, Kisuke.” You gave a sly smile and wiped the corners of your mouth before leaning upwards to kiss his cheeks.

➳❥ Kyoraku Shunsui

Shunsui lounged lazily on a cushion near the open shoji doors, his hat tilted back slightly to reveal the sharp edge of his jawline and the teasing glint in his eyes. Or, at least, it had been there earlier. Now, his expression was a mixture of irritation and desire, his jaw clenched just slightly as his gaze followed you like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

You stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the wooden frame of the door. The light fabric of your kimono was loose, slipping tantalisingly off one shoulder to reveal the soft curve of your collarbone. The neckline dipped just enough to give him a hint of cleavage—plump, inviting, and entirely intentional. Your lips curved into a sly smile as you caught him staring again.

“Shunsui,” you purred, your voice low and sultry. “You’ve been staring at me all day. Is something on your mind?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, though the corners of his lips twitched, betraying his amusement. “Now, now, don’t play coy with me. You know exactly what’s on my mind.”

“Oh, do I?” You tilted your head innocently, though your smile betrayed your intent. You took a step closer, your bare feet silent on the tatami. With each step, the hem of your kimono shifted, the fabric parting just enough to give him a glimpse of your thighs. His eyes followed the movement, darkening with each inch of exposed skin.

When you were close enough to touch, you knelt beside him, your movements slow and deliberate. His breath hitched as you leaned in, your lips so close to his ear that he could feel the warmth of your breath.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” you whispered, your voice dripping with sweetness. Your fingers brushed lightly against his arm, trailing up to his shoulder. “About your hands…your tongue on me. Deep in my pussy making me cum…”

His body tensed beneath your touch, his composure slipping as he turned his head slightly, his lips just shy of brushing yours.

“You’re cruel,” he murmured lowly and rough. “Saying things like that and then leaving me wanting.”

You chuckled softly, your hand sliding down his chest as you leaned even closer. Your lips barely grazed his, a phantom touch that left him chasing you as you pulled back. “Am I?”

Before he could respond, you were up again, moving across the room with a playful sway of your hips. The frustration etched across his face was delicious, and you revelled in the power you held over him.

It wasn’t until later in the evening when the sun had dipped below the horizon and the room was bathed in the soft glow of lanterns, that he finally snapped. You were standing by the table, pouring yourself a cup of sake, when you felt it—a sudden shift in the air, thick with intent. Before you could react, strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against a broad, firm chest.

“I believe I’ve had enough,” Shunsui growled into your ear, his voice low and dangerous.

You gasped, the cup slipping from your fingers and clattering to the table as he spun you around, his hands gripping your waist firmly but not painfully. His dark eyes bore into yours, the teasing glint from earlier replaced by a smouldering intensity that made your breath catch. “You’ve been tormenting me all day,” he said with a husky rasp. “Whispering all those filthy things, touching me, kissing me, only to dance away like some cruel little vixen. Do you enjoy driving me mad?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as he lifted you off your feet, carrying you to the futon and laying you down with surprising gentleness given the intensity burning in his eyes. His hands moved to the tie of your kimono, pulling it loose with practised ease. The fabric fell open, exposing the soft curves of your body to his hungry gaze.

You shivered under his touch, your body arching into him as he leaned down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone. His lips moved lower, teasing the sensitive skin of your breasts before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You gasped, your hands tangling in his hair as his tongue swirled over the sensitive peak.

“Shunsui,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through you as he continued his slow, torturous assault. His other hand moved lower, sliding between your thighs to tease your already aching core.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of awe and satisfaction. “Is this all from teasing me, or were you thinking about this too?”

“Both,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing as his fingers found your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make your hips buck.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “Good. Now let me hear just how good I make you feel, sweetheart.”

Without warning, he slid a finger inside you, curling it just right to make you cry out. He watched your reaction with darkened eyes, clearly enjoying the way you writhed beneath him. As his fingers slid inside, enjoying the way your gummy walls clamped down and sucking them back in, he brushed the tips against your sweet spot, earning a series of gasps. Your fingers scrambled to find purchase onto his shoulders, digging into the planes of his back and not caring that you were ruining his kimono.

Twisting and crooking them with vigour, your body trembled as you felt the fire building and your walls clenching around him. Your voice grew raspy as you clung to him, hips moving in sync with his rhythm to draw out your orgasm faster. The combination of his mouth on your breasts, switching sides as he swirled the hardened peaks between his lips and giving the occasional nips, alongside his thick digits rubbing your spot tipped you over the edge.

“Are you going to apologise, sweetness?” he whispered against your skin, pulling away from your breast to give a chaste kiss to your lips. “Or do I have to make you to beg to cum?”

“S-Shunsui…” you whined when his fingers slowed.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he urged sweetly and playfully, compared to the wickedness his fingers were performing below. “Are you sorry for teasing me without remorse?”

Unable to respond, you wrapped your hands around his neck and drew him in for a kiss, loving the gentle hum resonating in his chest as it escalated. Nevertheless, the torturous pace of his fingers remained. Even with the addition of his thumb circling your clit, causing your hips to stutter, he still didn’t give you want you sought, preferring to enjoy the needy whines and pleas.

“Shunsui, please…please let me cum.”

Breaking the kiss to meet your eyes, watching the way your brows cutely furrowed and your lips quivered, he grinned and pecked your lips once more. “I like it when you beg—it makes it harder to resist, especially when you look so cute,” he grinned against your lips. “But I still want to feel how sorry you are. So, let’s see how many times you can show me tonight.”

➳❥ Kuchiki Byakuya

You knew that testing his patience was the most dangerous thing you could do, yet here you were, doing the very same thing. He was reclined against the pillows, his dark hair sprawled out around him, giving him an angelic appearance while his facial expression was the opposite. Those piercing grey eyes watched you with precision as you straddled him, his hands resting at his sides, fingers twitching every now and then with the effort of restraining himself. You moved aching slowly on his cock at a pace that could only be described as torturous.

The soft, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out your pussy and your ass meeting his thighs lightly reverberated across the room. However, as much as you were enjoying the moment, tossing your head back and pressing your hands against his chest for support, he wasn’t accepting your performance. It wasn’t deserving of a standing ovation.

“Must you always test my limits?” he murmured with a faint tinge of irritation slipping through. His brows were furrowed and his lips pressed in a thin line as his eyes flickered from your face to where you two were connected. “You are aware that you are testing my discipline in ways that border on cruelty.”

A mischievous smirk played on your lips as you rolled your hips gently, deliberately squeezing around him. “But you look so good when you’re barely holding it together,” you purred as you traced your fingers down his abs. “I just want to take my time. I think you can handle it, Captain Kuchiki.” Accentuating his title as you languidly rocked your hips, grinding against him at an excruciating pace, Byakuya’s jaw clenched. The only outward sign of his patience—he let out a long, slow breath, his lips thinning as if he were attempting to mediate through your torment.

His response was a low growl, his composure eventually cracking for the briefest moment. Finally, his hands moved, resting on your hips, his grip firm but not yet demanding. “You mistake my restraint for endless indulgence,” he said deceptively calm, though there was an unmistakable edge of warning beneath his words.

Ignoring the warning and leaning forward so that your breasts brushed against his chest as you kissed the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I just want to see how far I can push you,” you taunted.

The shift was sudden, as though a dam had broken. Byakuya’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he sat up in fluid motion, forcing you to squeal in surprise. Before you could fully process the change, he had flipped you onto your back, his movements smooth and efficient. “I tire of your games,” he warned and positioned himself above you.

Your smirk faltered, replaced by a gasp as he thrust into you without hesitation, the sudden vigour making your back arch off the futon. Your nails clung to his skin, raking down his back and leaving red marks in their wake. The soft sound of sweaty skin meeting changed into the loud pitter-patter of his cock sliding in and out your pussy at a faster rate. For every thrust, a fresh gush of your juices flowed out, soaking his entire cock and the futon underneath. A glance at the sight between you two prompted a deep hum in his chest.

“Do you still wish to ‘take your time’ with me?” he asked in a clipped tone dripping with condescension. His lips curled into a faint smirk as he watched your expression twist—jaw slack, eyes shut and pathetic whimpers escaping your lips. Your nails continued to rake across his back as you struggled to find purchase. Every thrust of his was punctuated with a silent warning to not test his patience.

“Y-you don’t have to—oh god—prove your point like this,” you stammered between breathless moans.

Byakuya arched an elegant brow, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to reason with him. “You seemed intent on drawing this out,” he muttered in satisfaction, his eyes displaying the same emotion. “Now, we shall do things my way.”

His hands gripped your thighs tighter and pulled them higher around his waist to deepen the angle, and the new position sent a jolt of pleasure through your body that left you stuttering his name. His cock was punishing your insides, brushing against your sweet spot with abandon want. You could feel how much your insides were stirring, his cock pushing deeper behind every thrust, making your toes curls. “Tell me, is this pace more to your liking?”

You couldn’t respond with words, your voice lost to the relentlessness of the waves of sensation coursing through your body. All you could do was cling to him, your body trembling as he continued his unyielding rhythm. The expert rolls off his hips as he paused momentarily to ground them against yours, causing his tip to press heavily against your sweet spot leaving you spasming. Your body shuddered as you clung to him desperately. The silent, sinful thrusts Byakuya delivered, each leaving your speech function incapacitated.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him down for a desperate kiss that he returned with equal fervour, his usual restraint giving way to something more primal. His lips moved against yours, hot and demanding as he pried more sounds from you, his hips never faltering.

“Byakyua, please—” you gasped when he pulled back, his name ringing out frantically, unsure of what you were asking for.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he quipped, displaying his rare touch of humour. His smirk widened, clearly satisfied with your incoherent whimpering as the room was filled with the sounds of skin meeting and your breathless, needy moans.

©satsugacafé 2024: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[muzansfangs]

hello, may I request bleach male characters reaction to F! reader breaking up with them in a modern au?

You break up with them.

Starring: Kyoraku Shunsui x f!reader; Jugram Haschwalth x f!reader; Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x f!reader; Urahara Kisuke x f!reader; mention to Jushiro Ukitake, Ulquiorra Cifer, Yoruichi Shihoin and Sosuke Aizen;

Format: short-imagines;

Warnings: sfw, angst, modern au, breaking-up, alcohol consumption, toxic relationship, self-deprecating behavior, mental struggle, anxiety, psychological abuse, inferiority complex, suggestive themes, mutual pining, power imbalance, family problems, trust issues, infedelity, violence, gore;

Plot: Once upon a time, you were happy by their side. Things changed, though. Their flaws, their behaviors hurt you to the point of no return. You left them, they are now coping with the absence of the only woman they had ever claimed to love, whilst you try to build yourself up again.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Kyoraku Shunsui.

Lumpish, unsteady steps approched your bedroom. He probably figured you were already asleep. After all, it was three in the morning. However, you were wide-awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, a luggage at your feet and a livid expression plastered over your face. You had spared him the fatigue of moving cautiously in the room not to startle you. The last act of magnanimity you had ultimately decided to grant him.

“What are you doing awake, sweetheart?” Shunsui slurred, a frown on his face, droopy eyes boring into yours as he sauntered towards you confidently.

You scoffed, even jumping on your feet to catch him in your arms, when he tripped over the carpet. He was blind drunk, the stench of saké wafting over your face making your skin crawl and your heart shatter in your chest. It was already broken, for what could matter, hence your decision to leave. On the other hand, you cared way too much about him.

Shunsui sighed, slumping down onto the bed, weary from the lack of sleep and hours spent chugging down enough alcohol to slip you, or anyone else, into an ethylic coma. Dark circles under his eyes, disheveled hair and a feminine perfume that was not yours had given him away that night, like the privious ones. This relationship was toxic and you were not going to spend the best years of your youth attempting to save the life of a lothario who had a tendency of loving self-destructive activities.

“I’m leaving, Shunsui. We’re done. I can’t do this anymore” you simply explained, watching him sulk, obviously expecting you to give up on him, sooner or later.

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay?”.

You felt tears prickle at your eyes, jaw clenching as you shook your head and picked up your trolley. You were devastated.

“Don’t make it harder than it already is. — you admonished him, swallowing the lump in your throat as he stood up and tried to reach for your hand, but you stepped away — No, Shunsui. I tried really hard to show you how much I cared about you, about us. All you did was choosing bottles of liquors over me”.

“Honey, wait, I care about you, let’s go to sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow—” he rambled, his grey eyes shimmering in the dimly illuminated bedroom. They always seemed sincere, even his tone was softer and somehow more serious than it usually was. Yet, you knew better than falling for his sugarcoated promises to work on himself.

“There’s no tomorrow for us. We’ve been there before, Shunsui. I’m tired of being the only one invested into this relationship! It’s one-sided and, frankly, I don’t deserve it” you declared, watching him slick back one of his unruly cowlick constantly tickling his nose. You were going to miss him, of course you were.

No one fell out of love in one single night. Naturally, you were not an exception. You could not stop the tears rolling down your cheeks, not even a sob escaping your quivering lips, but you could run away to save your heart from being buried underneath a pile of ashes and dust, shambles of the wildfire consuming what remained of your love. Shunsui knew he had lost you. He fell onto his knees the moment you turned your back at him and walked out the room. He was in no condition to chase after you, not right now. He cussed and fell onto his knees, hands planted onto the carpet, fisting the fabric in his huge hands out of frustration and despair. It was all his fault and he knew you were right.

The sound of the front door slamming close made his heart sink into his chest as he punched the floor in anger. He was worried sick about you. Disappearing from his life in the dead of the night, alone, in a city as big as that. He felt miserable. He wanted you back. He wanted you safe in his arms, not alone at the bus station looking for a place to spend the night at.

You were right to leave him. He had no right to stop you. Shunsui knew he did not deserve you. But he could try to change and, hopefully, win you back. The last thing he did before laying down onto the floor was sending a message to you.

“Please, send me a text, when you’re somewhere safe”.

Obviously, you did not text him back, but your mutual friend Jushiro did. At least, Shunsui thought, you were in good hands. Better than his ones, undoubtedly.

Haschwalth Jugram.

It happened after the umpteenth dinner at the Royal Palace. Your relationship with him was balanced. He treated you with so much care, stared at you from across the rooms in adoration and reverence, gave you more than you could have ever asked for. The real problem was who he was: a Prince, the scion of a Royal family that had never truly accepted you and the class you came from.

His father’s glacial stare spoke volumes, it made you feel so out of place you often ended up having panic attacks during balls and dinners. The spotlight was perpetually on you. Snippy remarks from his mother and the uptight members of the upper class hanging around the royal family poisoned you to no end. Restless nights and a sudden incapacity to concentrate on easy tasks, such as walking down aisles alone, or dancing with your beloved boyfriend under their attentive eyes, were the results of their ferocious tongues.

The worst part of it was that you had no one to talk to about the stressful situation you were experiencing. You had been forced to move to the castle with your boyfriend, determining your connections outside to keep their distance from you. Your old flat had been abandoned along with your ordinary life. Nights out in a pub with your friends had become a taboo and even the necessary visits to your parents had been drastically reduced to mere lunches with bodyguards roaming through their house.

Talking to Haschwalth about your uneasiness and discomfort had led to arguments between the two of you and you had not failed to notice how his mother seemed uncharacteristically gregarious the day after your altercations with her son. Maids talked a lot, unfortunately. However, you were not going to tolerate this situation any longer. Collecting your clothes and belongings into a bag, you had asked Haschwalth to meet you at the train station, after escaping the bodyguards’ watch, while shopping at the mall.

When he found you, alone, piercing blue eyes pinning you on the spot, he realized it was the end of the road for you two. You were distraught, hands wiping away the tears from your face, whilst you attempted to talk.

“I love you. I really do. But that’s not the life I expected to live with you. It’s never the two of us. They hate me, Haschwalth” you started, your boyfriend’s jaw clenching.

“I am expected to become the King of this Country. If you wish for me to turn my back at my family, you are clearly mistaken” he replied lowly, twisting the blade in your heart already making you bleed out before his magnificent eyes.

You shook your head “That’s why I have to leave, Haschwalth. I don’t want you to give up on the throne, or go against your family. I just… I needed you to stand by my side, when they denigrated me publicly” you punctuated, but even this was not enough to make him flinch.

They had taught him how to suppress his emotions well. Stolid, impassive, detached from sentimental matters. Maybe way too much for him to build a strong, intimate connection in a healthy relationship.

He did not look away, instead he took a single step closer to you “You do understand that’s not affordable for the future heir of the throne? It’s something beyond my willpower. — he replied, voice firm and devoid of any affection he had usually opted for in your regards — I would never ask you to disrepect your parents, if their antics offended me. Insofar as possible, I’ll make sure you can rely on me. Don’t make a scene”.

“No, Haschwalth. I refuse to be mistreated by the band of lackeys your mother surrounds herself with and pretend everything’s fine! — you blurted out, drawing the attention of some people waiting for their train on the platform — I should have known I meant less than a noble title” you choked out, right before turning around and heading straight to the coach assigned to you.

His eyes followed you, a turmoil of contrasting feelings making their way in his mind. This was far from the life he wanted to share with you. Only when he saw the train departing, he realized he had lost you forever and how severe the emotional damage his parents had inflicted to him really was. He felt kind of dehumanized, an empty shell even in private matters.

Your absence affected him more than you could have ever imagined. He watched you from afar for months, making sure you were fine without him. And you were. It hurt him immensely and, even though he wanted to contact you, he did not. You needed space and time and it was probably for the better. He had watched your lovable smile fade from your face through the time you had spent at the Royal Palace. Now, watching you eat a pizza with your friends, he witnessed to you blossoming again into the radiant girl he had met a long time ago.

Maybe, one day, if you still wanted him, he would have come knocking at your door again, offering his heart to you on a silver tray.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.

From the moment you had seen him getting off of his motorbike outside a bar, black leather jacket and cheeky grin modeling the wondrous eyes of the girls sipping on their drinks into glossy hearts, hoping vainly for him to choose them, you knew he was troubles. The wise ones turned their heads away from him, reminding themselves of who he was, where he came from and what kind of a player he was. You had tried to do the same, but you were a little more adventurous and naive back then.

He bought you a drink, rizzed you up and you decided to stay by his side for more than a one-night stand. Boy, how delighted you were to find out he actually had decided to stop collecting broken hearts anywhere he went. You dated for a while, then you settled down and your life turned upside down. You met his friends, learned a little more about the place he came from and you had the confirmation he was part of a gang called ‘The Espada’.

You thought you could handle the situation. You even stitched up his friends for free, when they dropped by your house wounded, collecting scars from the violent fights with cops, or members of other gangs. It took a while to realize Grimmjow did not want to change his lifestyle. According to him, he already had made a lot of progresses since you two had become a couple. You would have been a liar not to agree with him on that: after all, he had even dressed up in a nice clean white shirt and attended a dinner with your parents. He behaved that night, you felt on cloud nine.

But things changed abruptly a couple of weeks later.

He began to come home later than usual, battered, nervous. The news an emerging gang was raising and had declared war to ‘The Espada’ began to spread.

It was your best friend’s birthday and Grimmjow had been invited too. He was busy patrolling a zone, hence he had let you know he would have met up with you later. When hours began to pass and most of the guests had left the party, you sensed something had gone wrong. You hopped into your car, driving to what you had grown to learn was his gang’s den. Of course they tried to keep you out of the situation, but how could you not fight your way inside, when you heard someone screaming at the top of his lungs. The scene welcoming you into that barrelhouse made your stomach churn. A man, battered, tethered like an animal to a chair. His face was a bloody mess, but so was your boyfriend’s one.

When your eyes met, he cussed and punched that man one last time before marching towards you. For the first time ever you feared he was going to harm you too and, when his hand gripped your forearm with far less grace than you expected, you began to wriggle in terror.

“Let me go! Grimmjow, hands off, now!” you squealed, your protests falling to deaf ears as he led you out of the pub.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”.

“Is that even important?! Look at yourself, Grimmjow! That’s blood! There’s blood on your clothes, on your face! What the Hell was that?” you questioned him, hands trying to reach for his face to check on him for any injuries.

He groaned and turned his head to the side scornfully “It’s not mine, alright? Mind your damn business, princess. That’s not a place for you. What is it, don’t you like this anymore?”.

His words blinded you, the sound of your hand colliding against his cheek made you flinch as well. You had hit him. You really had. Despite that, the one sobbing before his eyes were you. He sighed, glaring down at your smaller frame like a caged animal. He was restraining himself.

You took a step back, swallowing thickly “I can’t stand there and watch you ruin your life and… And kill people” you stated then, hands shaking.

Grimmjow shoved his hands into his pockets, eyeing you contemptuously “I was like that before I met you, sweet cheeks. — he gruffly said — If you want to stick around, suck it up. Otherwise, go hook up with a Prince. One of those fuckers whose hands smell like money, not of gasoline and blood”.

The world seemed to shake under your feet, your hand clasped over your mouth as you realized how stupid you had been to fall for him. To believe he could actually change. He was toxic for you. He was a monster. This was not your boyfriend.

“Fuck you” you muttered, jogging towards your car with a blurry vision and stomach cramps. You drove away into the night, miraculously making it back home safe and sound. Clueless, among other things, that Grimmjow had sent Ulquiorra after you to make sure you were fine.

Deep down he knew he had screwed up and, every single time he drove by your house, he remembered all those summer evenings spent on your rooftop with your fingers running through his soft blue hair and how much loved he had felt for the first time ever in his life. It was not just sex. It was not just about the way he fucked you. You were not a random girl. He loved you.

Urahara Kisuke.

A brilliant, laidback engineer who had easily whisked you off to live a colourful life travelling the world by his side. It was easy loving Kisuke Urahara. He never missed a chance to make you laugh and tell you to pack your stuff for your next tropical destination, a trip organized specifically for a project he was working on. He was also a party person, very popular among important people and, unfortunately, with the ladies.

Kisuke would have never broken your heart. This was what he had promised you so many times, espacially while you were tangled into the bedsheets of your bedroom. Panting, sweating, he swore to love you through breathy groans. You believed him, of course you did. Maybe, you should have kept an eye on him and his best friend, the eclectic artist Yoruichi Shihoin. Maybe you should have not let her hang around with him so often. Still, you did not like being controlling. You had no apparent reason to be resentful to her, or to put a leash on your boyfriend.

Staring in horror at the two of them, naked, into the bed where Kisuke had told you so many times you were the only woman he loved, felt like someone had kicked you in your guts. They had played you like a complete idiot. It pained you to find out your boyfriend’s rival was right. He had tried to warn you about Kisuke’s habit of enchanting people with words and hide his second nature masterly.

“I can explain!” Kisuke breathed out, reaching for his sweatpants in a hurry to chase after you.

Yoruichi, on the other hand, sat comfortably on your side of the bed. Her topaz yellow eyes bored into yours, a mocking grin gracing her lips. She could keep him, for all you cared. A man who cheated would have done it again and again.

You scoffed and stormed out of the bedroom hastily “I don’t need a goddamn oculist, Kisuke. Go to Hell” you snapped, hellbent to leave that house as soon as possible.

He ran after you, quick to block your path “Baby, please, I know I fucked up. I’m sorry, I’m terribly sorry! Just… Just let me explain” he pleaded you, the vulnerability in his eyes almost making you faltering. But it was enough. You were fed up. He had cheated on you, you had wasted opportunities and chances to support him in his work. All for what?

Where did it get you? To be disrespected in your own house, under your nose.

“No, thank you, I don’t want to hear another word coming out of your mouth. Congrats for having reduced our relationship to a huge pile of shit. That’s the best construction you’ve ever made” you spitefully hissed at his face, your throat constricting with each hateful word leaving your mouth as you pushed past him and ran off to your car.

Kisuke fell onto his knees, hands fisting his sandy hair, while he realized what he had done. He felt lost without you. Yoruichi made her getaway almost immediately, leaving him alone and with a shattered heart in his chest. The bitter taste of your break-up indulged on his tongue for a long time, culminating in a terrible phase of regrets when he saw you walking by Sosuke Aizen’s side. A gleeful smile on your lips, you let that bastard loop his arm around your waist.

You seemed happy. You truly were. The problem was you were happy without him. This was something he could have never done a damn thing about.

Kisuke knew he had lost you forever.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Angst, yes, a lot of angst. If any of the above shit happen to you, RUN FROM THAT MAN. Those are not red flags, those are RED BLANKETS. Love you all! Let me know what you think about this!

As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Love,

Luce

[smol-ackerman]

"I thought I'd feel much worse...losing to you..."

BLEACH: THE BLOOD WARFARE (COUR 3) EP. 12: Friend

[hitsugaya-toushirou]

Jugram Haschwalth and Bazz B from Key Animator Zuguma

[animeaestheticsthings]

This fight is my favorite and Jugram and Bazz are the world for me...I am not ready to be honest I will cry a whole ocean....they deserved the world 😞😞😞😞💛❤️‍🔥⚖️🔥

[elyonholic]

Jugram Haschwalth — BLEACH Tybw ep36

[inosukz]

(SE3EP5) JUGRAM HASCHWALTH — ✦ BLEACH: THOUSAND YEAR BLOOD WAR – THE CONFLICT