Starring: Uryu Ishida x f!reader; Haschwalth Jugram x f!reader; Byakuya Kuchiki x f!reader; mention to Ichigo Kurosaki, Rukia Kuchiki, Chad Yasutora, Orihime Inoue, Urahara Kisuke, Ryuken Ishida, Bazz-B, Hubert Alexander Kleich, Yhwach, Renji Abarai, Isshin Kurosaki, Masaki Kurosaki;
Warnings: fluff, slighty suggestive themes in Haschwalth and Byakuya’s scenarios, make out sessions, angst, blood, gore, violence, language, unrequited love, flirting, hints and attempted sa, attempting to kiss someone without their consent (nothing will go too far, but be mindful, if it may trigger you) in Haschwalth’s part, fear of death and losing someone, anxiety, young love, repressed feelings finally taking over, mutual feelings, the reader is Ichigo Kurosaki’s older sister in Byakuya’s one, whilst she is Ichigo’s twin in Uryu’s scenario, TYBW setting;
Plot: You had not dared to reveal your feelings for him because you were frightened by the idea of making a fool of yourself. You were persuaded rejection would have ended your life. How could you even bear the thought of ruining your relationship permanently because you had not been mature enough not to fall for him? However, life had its way of dealing cards. You found yourself realising you could not live another day without letting him know he was loved. Especially, when you had a sense one of you was probably going to die.
The air was charged with unspoken tension. You were standing in the middle of Uryu’s bedroom, hand resting on the hilt of your zanpakuto, tightly fastened at your hip. It had been a while since you had felt this uncertain about your future. Also, you had never even entered Uryu’s manor before. Why? You respected the fact his father was not fond of your family and shinigamis. Being related to Isshin made you his natural born enemy, but you were pretty sure he saw Masaki in you. However, despite him not particularly sympathizing with you, you were fond of his son, of your best friend, of the boy with deep blue eyes, sharp mind and thick glasses sliding down his nose way too often. In other words, Uryu.
You cared too much about him not to sneak into his house totally uninvited. Why, though? After having caught the deep frown on his face upon refusing to accompany your brother, Orihime and Chad to investigate what was happening in the Hueco Mundo, you figured he was not at his best. Albeit he had claimed a Quincy could not risk his life to help out Hollows, you knew he had felt his heart squeeze in his chest for defecting from the crew of your friends. Your stomach had churned as well, of course it had, because you should have gone with them and helped around too. Still, you had all mutually agreed you should have travelled all the way to the Soul Society to report what had happened with the Arrancar holding a Quincy cross in Karakura Town and mention that something was definitely disrupting the balance in the Hueco Mundo.
Therefore, all you did was making the preparations to leave. Actually, you were a minute away from crossing the Gates, adrenaline rushing through your veins and igniting your fight-or-flight response, that inevitbly activated your nervous system, heart thrumming against your ribcage so hard you thought your ribs were going to break as if they were constantly pummeled by a sledgehammer, when you halted.
The thought of Uryu alone in the austere Ishida manor, his frustration for not being of any help to anyone, that look in his eyes… And the fear of a conflict breaking out and you two not being able to see each other ever again had made you turn your back at the black-pitch tunnel, connecting the World of the Livings to the Seireitei, and dash at his address.
You had masterly suppressed your reiatsu, upon climbing on the windowsill of his bedroom. You could not risk Ryuken ambushing you, admonishing his son before your eyes, when you had no time to waste to give Uryu your message. Messing up your relationship during dark times was not a wise decision. Not at all. And your palms were sweating, by the time you had hopped graciously onto the carpet and heard footsteps you knew way too well approaching the door.
Two. You straightened your back, bracing yourself for the worst.
Three. You held your breath, the moment the door creaked open and the proud Quincy boy who had stolen your heart entered his room and froze on the doorstep.
You raised your free hand, index pressed against your silent lips, eyes pleading him to follow your instructions without arguing. And you were glad he did, for once. He was stunned in silence, head whipping from left to right in the corridor, before he hastily made his way inside and closed the door behind him.
“What are you doing here? Is everything all right? Are you okay?” Uryu fretted, somehow modulating his voice not to draw attention and trying not to let his slight concern bleed into his words. But you knew his heart. You knew he was kind, you knew he cared more than he would have ever admitted to anyone, himself included.
“Yes, I’m fine, I suppose” you quickly reassured him, mouth feeling like chalk all of a sudden. God, you wished you could have this conversation in a less stressful situation. You wished you had had the guts of baring your heart in other circumstances. Yet, you were not an ordinary girl. Normalcy was not part of your life. When had you ever had the chance to act and speak up peacefully? Life happened. Spirits existed. Souls. Arrancars. Shinigamis. New threats.
You were never able to catch a breath, to invite your friend and crush to hang out together and grab a stupid ice-cream like commoners did.
You were a shinigami, a soldier. You had responsibilities. Who cared about young love between two species that were not even supposed to mingle? Screw it. Nothing made sense. Still, you knew the right thing to do.
“I have to leave in a few. To be honest, I was about to enter the Gates. — you started, your eyes locked with his ones to make sure you had his full attention — But I could not bring myself to step foot into the Senkaimon” you stated, lowering your head as soon as Uryu took a few steps towards you, leaving enough distance between you two to make sure you were comfortable and fully aware that your words were not falling to deaf ears. He was listening. Of course he was. He always listened to you.
“Why? Is there something troubling you? — he asked carefully, the palm of his hand gliding over his desk, flattening over the smooth surface firmly, when you decided it was safe to make eye-contact again — I have been restless ever since Ichigo reported the appearence of that invader. I am… I should be out there too. But I can not”.
You were indeed correct about his feelings. His mind was in turmoil. And so was yours. You began to wonder if it was even the right thing to do vomiting all your love for him in that moment. By the law of averages, you had equals chances of your feelings being rejected, or reciprocated. All you ever wanted was for him to know that somewhere out there, beneath the chaos of the wars, the study sessions, the sufferings, you were rooting for him, siding with him, loving him.
You clenched your fists down your sides, swallowing the knot in your throat to find your voice “I do not want you to help me. Actually, I am kind of glad you cannot take part to the plan” you blurted out, causing his eyes to comically widen in shock.
You, his partner in crime, the one who praised his schemes and usually agreed with him, the one you ran to when you were overwhlemed were now telling him you were happy he was not part of your plan?
“I am sorry, what did you say?”.
You parted your lips, but no sound came out of your mouth. He stared at you in disbelief, as if you had just slapped him across his face. Gosh, that expression was surely far from what you wished to see on his face. You had lost the capacity to formulate coherent sentences, to sugarcoat them to sound as close as you could to what you truly felt in your stupid heart.
You sighed, shaking your head vigorously in exasperation “Forget it. Forget I have ever come here in the first place”.
Now, were you not acting like a coward? You had turned your back at him, ready to sprint out of his window, when he called you out vehemently. He was disappointed in you for the very first time and it hurt like Hell. The way he had said your name had made your blood run cold in your veins and your heart shatter.
“Is that why you came back? To insult me and my honor, as if our friendship never meant something? Explain yourself, because I am beyond nonplussed” he declared. You tasted copper in your mouth. That metallic, sour taste on your tongue was the effect his words had had on you.
It was as if he had shot an arrow through your neck, blood invading your throat and mouth. But his hands were clean. To kill without a weapon was the finest of arts, after all.
“You do not know what you are talking about!”.
“You are damn right, I do not! I thought you knew me better than that, Kurosaki! Or that you cared—”.
This time, though, you were the one to cut him off. You barely registered your own movements, when you twirled around and roughly grasped the collar of his hoodie, yanking him down to let your lips collide with his ones. You were always better at showing your emotions, instead of talking about your feelings. And that kiss, explosive and urgent, a bit clumsy as well, spoke volumes about your intentions.
Uryu had went rigid under your touch, inhaling sharply for his breath had been abruptly cut off, but you felt his hands find your cheeks and cup them in a matter of seconds. He returned the kiss. He was kissing you back. There was no rejection in his actions. On the contrary, you found yourself clinging on his robes, as he backed you against the nearest wall and made sure you were effectively trapped between his warm body and the cool surface behind you.
You made sure to learn the exact softness of his lips molding against yours, his cologne, his gentle touch. What if this first kiss was also meant to be your last?
The moment he pulled back, your breaths were shuddery, your eyes unfocused, whilst you inwardly tried your best to be positive and enjoy this moment “I am freaking scared, Uryu. I could not leave Karakura, unless I got to see you first. I love you” you eventually breathed out, just when he shook your head and pressed you harder against his body.
You buried your face onto his chest, your nose gliding up towards the side of his neck, eyes closing to enoy that tender moment.
“Do not make it sound like a goodbye”.
“I can feel it in my bones. Things are going south”.
Uryu’s jaw clenched, pulling back enough to have a look at your face. Unshed tears, lower lip wobbling, you were doing your best not to burst into a desperate, unconsolable cry. His gaze hardened, while he gripped your shoulders tightly “We will overcome this crisis. Trust in me. Trust in your abilities. But I want you to promise me something, before you leave”.
You knew he trying to be positive for the both of you. Mostly, to empower you, to make sure you stayed positive, wary out there. Alone. Without him to have you back like he always did.
“You will come back to me safe”.
In other circumstances, you would have had no troubles in promising him what he was asking you. Something about the series of odd events taking place out there, though, was making you doubt yourself and what was going to happen, most likely, in a matter of hours. Atmosphere was eerie, chilling. A storm was coming your way.
“You can’t be serious, you can’t ask me that. Uryu, I’m a shinigami, anything—”.
You froze “That was a low kick”.
“At least, now I know you will think twice before breaking the promise”.
You sighed, and you were about to retort something, when you both overheard some footsteps coming upstairs. Ryuken. Well, this was your call to go. A quick kiss, a peck on Uryu’s lips, was all you did to seal your oath. He did not add another word, limiting himself to watch you climb back on the windowsill, glancing at him from above your shoulder with a meek smile on your face.
“Whatever you are going to do, you better live as well, Uryu Ishida”.
A day off. A rarity, a reason to slack off and fraternize with comrades. Not for you, though. Whilst everyone around you was planning to visit the local inn to grab some drinks and have fun, you were pining for your childhood friend. For the love of your life, to be correct. For the man with blue eyes and long, luscious blond hair you had fallen for since the day you had first met him in the woods.
You missed your old life. Albeit you had little to no money, that distant memories of days spent training with Bazz and Jugo, hunting together, scheming, laughing at each others failures, growing up together and bonding made you regret having visited the village that infamous day you were all recluted to serve the Empire. That day you had lost a piece of your heart, brutally ripped off your chest by Jugo. He had become Yhwach’s shadow. He trained harder than you and Bazz did, he spent entire days in the throne room to sharpen his abilities, to become the worthy right hand man of His Majesty. Even crossing paths with him was nearly impossible, nowadays.
The look on his face, cold indifference and detachment, was the reason you cried yourself to sleep at night and Bazz yelled at your face to get a grip of yourself. He could not lose you too, or so he claimed. The three of you used to be a team and a team should have never fallen apart. Too bad you were apparently meant to lose people you loved by the hand of Yhwach. That man had stripped you to the bone. You had nothing anymore. Nothing, but a shattered heart in your chest. How were you not supposed to drift away, when you were your shadow-self?
“Oi, are you planning to spend the night sulking, or are you coming to grab a drink with me?” Bazz gruffly inquired, suddenly invading your personal space to get a reaction out of you. His finger tapped on the side of your head, exponentially annoying you, as he persisted in his task to pull you out of your misery.
You swatted his hand away dispassionately “I am not in the mood for it, Bazz”.
“Tsk, you have never been in the mood ever since we joined the army”.
“Sorry for killing your vibe”.
Bazz groaned, hardening his gaze “You should be sorry for annihilating yourself, toe-rag”.
As he walked off, joining the boisterous recruits crowding at the gates, you contemplated the idea of retiring in your quarters to get some rest. Hopefully, your dreams were not haunted by blue eyes resembling the crystal water of the lake behind your old house. But as big as the castle was, the people inhabiting it inevitably ended up bumping into each other. If the idea of catching a glimpse of Jugo’s eyes made your skin crawl, your stomach churned upon having your way blocked by the impertinent, ruthless Vice-Captain everyone dreaded. Slicing heads off, spitting on his subordinates, beating up anyone trying to stand their ground against the plain abuse of power he daily perpetrated on you all was what made you realise that finding yourself alone in a corridor with him was the worst scenario ever.
Maybe, you should have accepted Bazz’s invitation.
The closer you got to Hubert Alexander Kleich, the harder it was keeping your head high and standing straight, not faltering, not bending the knee. You caught a glimpse of his smirk in the torch light. It was inevitable. There was no going back, no door to open for you to disappear in, no way out of that corridor. Hubert stood right in front of you, grinning, his palm slamming on the wall at your right to entirely block your path. His lean frame loomed ominously over yours, as his smile grew wider.
“Didn’t you forget something on your way to the inn?” he asked you curiously.
Your mouth felt like chalk, your hands balling up in fists down your sides. Telling him you were going back to your room would have only been detrimental for you. A vague question would have probably sufficed, or so you thought.
“What, sir?” you meekly replied.
His pick-up line made your skin crawl. You had noticed the way he seemed to eye you with certain predatory eyes from across the rooms, you had overheard him commenting on your physique, totally unbothered by your proximity. It had always been a matter of when, but he was coming for you and, naturally, he had been dropping hints to let you know you had caught his attention.
“Vice-Captain, with all due respect, I am in a hurry—”.
His hand grasping your jaw roughly, craning your neck forcefully to make a dreadful eye-contact, caused your sentence to transform into a breathy yelp of terror. What had you done to irk him? You had addressed him properly and your tone was beyond submissive. What? Just what had you done to enrage him?
Your back was shoved up against the wall with a dull thud and another whimper erupted from your throat, as he leaned down to let his pointy nose brush against yours. His wolfish grin made you dizzy, your glassy eyes struggling to stay open as your attempted to claw at his elbow to get free. But you felt like a butterfly with clipped wings. You had no chance to escape him.
“In a hurry, you say? To do what, exactly? — he sarcastically inquired, tilting his head to the side — To go to bed? Oh, in that case, lead the way. I will be more than glad to accompany you” he hissed at your face, his pupils dilated in what, much to your dismay, was arousal. You felt numb, impotent, revolted. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, whilst he pressed himself against your body. Fight, fight him back. Oh, how you wished you could physically do it.
When you felt his breath waft against your jawline, you sobbed out a strained scream for help and squeezed your eyes shut. Even breathing was hard, for his weight was depriving you of air, but then… It was gone. You slided down, nothing and no one to hold onto to prevent your fall, but you were still glad not to feel your aggressor’s presence around you. Someone had saved you, someone was there.
The same boy you used to call out to rescue you, when you were young, back in the woods. Jugram Haschwalth. Jugo, your Jugo.
“You better explain what were your intentions, Vice-Captain” the Grandmaster sternly said, his cape fluttering around his slender form, as Hubert snickered and fixed his hat on the top of his head.
“I was disciplining this recruit. — he said, avoiding your gaze — There is no need for you to intervene”.
Jugo stood still, hand resting on the hilt of his sword, before he took a single step towards you. His glacial stare landed on you, a flicker of long lost affection pulling him back from his dehumanized state. Maybe, deep down, the Grandmaster was still the kid you used to talk for hours before falling asleep, back then. Maybe, he still cared. Or missed you and what you had. You felt delusional, especially when he did not even held his hand out for you to grasp. He was not going to help you back on your feet. But he was there for you, was he not?
Hubert huffed “I see. You want her, don’t you? Fine. Take her” he bitterly said, before turning his back at you and bolting away in unbridled fury.
You released a breath you did not know you were holding, upon watching the Vice-Captain’s silhouette becoming one with the shadows. He was gone, you were safe. But you were far from being okay. Jugo was still a couple of steps away from you, his gaze stern, his heart in a golden cage. You stood back up, brushing the dust off your gloved hands and skirt, doing anything you could to avoid his eyes. It hurt immensely. It was too much for you to take.
You bowed, silent, mouth clamped shut, as you began to walk away.
“I do not remember having dismessed you” he surprisingly said, his voice far from taking a softer inclination even when he was addressing his former friend. How many times did your heart have to break for you to understand he was not the same man you had fallen in love with?
You halted, though, executing the orders of your superior like you had been taught ever since you had stepped into that pit of soulless soldiers and professional serial killers. You straightened your back, slowly swirling around to show him the respect he had demanded.
“No, sir. I apologize, sir”.
“Do not put yourself in dangerous situations to draw my attention. I can not always be around to save you”.
“You can’t, or you won’t?”.
He clenched his jaw, inhaling sharply “You dare retaliate, you defy me and my authority. It is a peremptory order. — he said, his crystal blue eyes pinning you on the spot — I do not need to justify my actions”.
You gritted your teeth. He was fronting. Yet, in that very moment, you decided to risk it all. You probably would have not had another chance to confront him, to finally speak up.
“Oh, forgive my terrible arrogance then, but I do believe you ought me an explanation! You used to sleep by my side and hold my hand in the dark, Jugo! What changed?” you snapped, hands trembling as a side-effect of the sudden burst of adrenaline and wrath blinding you. It was about time you two settled down and stopped pretending nothing had happened. He knew it too.
The Grandmaster squared his shoulders, his frame imposing and stiff “You have no right to reprimand me. Not when you have no idea of what you are talking about”.
“Why should I? — you ferally retorted, tears brimming in your eyes — You have made it plainly clear you do not care about me anymore”.
“I have said ‘take it back’, now”.
You shook your head, hand clasped over your mouth, before you staggered a few steps back and began to make your way to your quarters silently. Your throat hurt, for trying so desperately to hold back the tears running freely down your cheeks. You felt like a broken toy he had carelessly discarded in the muddy street, abandoned forever, not loved anymore. And your head was probably up in the clouds, too far from reality, for you to realise you had stopped walking. Someone was holding you tightly in a familiar hug. Your back was flattened against the wall, your leg hoisted around a hip. Your teary eyes were looking right into a pair of splendid aquamarine hues.
Haschwalth grasped your jaw, not so cerimoniously, before capturing your lips in a fiery kiss. He stole your breath, he let his free hand run down your body to feel you up. And you let him do it.
So that was it felt like to kiss an angel. The pain you had endured quickly dissipated. Love seeped into your guts, whilst his tongue danced with yours in a sensual game of dominance.
“I do love you. I do care” he murmured, his tone going back to the soft one you had always loved. Right now, he was not a soldier. He you just your Jugo.
You cupped his face in your hands, a single tear streaming down your right cheek “But you can’t, right?”.
He did not reply, buring his face in the crook of your neck instead, leaving lazy and open-mouthed kisses on the tender flesh, whilst he drove his hips up against yours. He was hard. He was hard for you. And you were a flustered, blushing mess.
He froze and your held him closer to you “Just tonight”.
He could not deny you himself, when you had left your heart in his hands. The least he could do was loving you like you deserved, even if for a few hours.
You had never fought as ferociously as you had done in the last three hours. You had never slashed at someone with the intent to kill. Your blade, chipped and damaged, was totally covered in the sticky, viscous crimson red of your enemies’ blood. Your uniform was tattered, your limbs ached and a deep cut on your shoulder was making it increasingly hard to stand tall and make your way to him. Nevertheless, you stumbled down the unrecognizable streets of the Seireitei.
Rukia and Renji were severely injured. Most of the soldiers from the Sixth Division were staring at the cloudy sky above you with horrified expressions. Their lifeless, glassy eyes made your heart bleed. People were dying all around you and you had not been capable to save their lives, for you were too preoccupied saving yours to get to Byakuya. You were an horrible person, were you not? Selfish, reckless and stupid. He was a Captain, a formidable warrior. Did he really need someone to watch his back in battle?
However, upon hearing the enemy could seal a Bankai away, you had felt colors draining from your face and you had not hesitated to dash towards the Kuchiki Estate. Byakuya could not die. Bloody Hell. The man who haunted your dreams, the man you had fallen for since the day you first met, when he was ironically trying to arrest you and your friends, addressing you as a ‘rogue’, was now in dire danger.
You could only imagine what was happening in Hueco Mundo. The only thought consoling you was that Kisuke Urahara and your brother Ichigo were there, doing their best to protect your friends. But if Ichigo was fighting among the dunes of Hueco Mundo, it only meant he was not in the Soul Society to help you all. Which made you feel twice responsible for your friends’ lives. Fighting back the urge to scream, you finally reached your destination, but what you came across made your stomach churn.
Upon spotting Byakuya, a bloody mess, kneeling on the ground, your grip on your katana slipped. The blade clattered ominously on the now slippery ground, skidding a few feet away from you. It was the rain, or the blood. You could not tell which fluid was prevailing. All you knew was that you tried to call him out, but your throat emitted no sound. You had to move, to do something.
“Go away… This is not your battle” you heard Byakuya’s raspy voice stubbornly protest. It was too late, though.
Before you could even realise it, your hand was wielding your zanpakuto once again and you ran up to him as fast as you could. You pointed your sword at the man in white robes staring at you two amusedly, satisfaction in his black-pitch eyes, as you shielded Byakuya from his attacks. You still had some spark left in you to fight, to win over this last opponent.
“What a pitiful show” the pale man with the black mask commented, squinting to assess your reaction. You could swear he was grinning behind that piece of cloth.
“You will soon be a pitiful show for your comrades!” you roared out, swinging your sword to cut his sternum open. But you unexpectedly found yourself slammed onto the sordid ground by the man you were attempting to help out. You winced at the hard impact with the stone, your eyes searching for his blue ones, now pinning you on the spot with apprehension and fear. Atypical of him to be afraid. The Captain of the Sixth Division was unfamiliar with such a common emotion.
“Have I not made myself clear? This is my battle. — he clarified then, planting his sword onto the ground to use it as a leverage for him to push himself back on his feet — I refuse to let you protect me”.
There it was: his pride was clouding his mind.
You wiped the raindrops off your face, quick to get up too “And I refuse to let you die! You can barely stand on your legs, stay back!”.
He glared at you, blood dribbling down his face from a wound on the side of his head. You knew exactly what his unspoken words were. It was not just his battle. He did not want you to be the one who protected him. In his head, it should have always been the other way around. Yet, he did not seem to understand that it was a bellum omnis contra omnes. Did it really matter who was fighting a certain opponent, or who saved someone’s life?
Before you could shout out his name, or before he could shove you further away, you witnessed to a phenomenon undeniably inexplicable. Swords scattering, dissolving into the cherry blossom petals of Byakuya’s bankai swirled all around you. Small cuts began to wound your skin, blood spilling. You screamed out, the same way he shouted out your name as a potent wave of lethal petals blasted against you two. The pain you felt was immense. You tasted copper in your mouth, as you fought against yourself to stay awake. Weak, fragile, powerless, you turned your head to the side. Barely breathing, half-lidded eyes, Byakuya Kuchiki was laying down next to you.
You coughed, hand reaching out to grasp his one, but he was too far from you and you had no strength to scoot closer to him. What a way to die, huh? Unable to confess your feelings to the man that you loved, you were going to leave this Earth full of regrets.
“Spare your breath. You are still… You are alive. I have something to be grateful for…” he murmured, his own fingers twitching to graze against the tips of your trembling ones.
Everything hurt. Tears streamed down your face, as you felt a knot forming in your throat “I don’t want to die. Not before I do something important… Promise me something, Captain” you breathed out, ending up consuming most of your energy as you stared at the dark sky above you.
He did not reply immediately. Probably a hot minute passed before he gained enough strength to talk. The silence was murdering you. What if he had died? The sound of his voice made you almost smile, though.
“Live. Don’t die… Let’s make a deal. I’ll fight for my life, if you promise to do the same”.
Too bad you had lost consciousness moments before he accepted your proposition.
He was the first person you were looking for, once you had fully recovered from your injuries. The war was getting rougher and the worst was yet to come, yet all you could think about was him and how desperate you had felt, when you thought you had lost him forever. Pride had always stood between you two like a wall he never allowed you to crack. Foolish of you to believe you had all the time in the world to clear things out with him. Life was way too short to waste time. Even for shinigamis.
Gathering with your comrades at the entrance to the laboratory of the infamous Captain of the Twelfth Division, you saw him in a newly pearly white cape. He was majestic. A vision. Your proud Prince had recovered and polished himself like the nobleman he actually was. Upon meeting his gaze from across the road, you mutually decided it was time to catch up. At least, you were agreeing on something without having to start an argument.
“How are you?” he asked you right away, as you distanced yourself from the crowd. You were not totally taken aback by his concern for your health. You had fallen together, after all.
You shrugged “I am pretty fine. The Fourth Division took good care of me”.
“I thought I had lost you”.
You straightened your back, eyes downcast “I did not plan to faint mid-conversation”.
Byakuya’s blue eyes darkened, his hand reaching towards your face to grab your chin and forcing you to meet his intense gaze “Why did you intervene? Why did you put your life at stake for me? Shame, remorse, fear. You made me experience them all in a nick of time”.
Was he scolding you? Or was he trying to make you understand he cared about you?
“Because I care about you. — you declared, voice firm but low — Because I could not bear the thought of you losing without knowing what I felt for you”.
He tensed, his gaze sharpening, as he let go of your chin to slide his hand down the side of your neck. He glanced above his shoulder, before gently nudging you towards the wall. Caged between his body and the marble at your back, you stared at him as if he was your sun. Or the whole galaxy.
“You never listen. What a tragedy for me to be impotent to your childish antics. — he said, leaning down until his nose grazed against your gently, a feath-like touch — I could not stop you on the battlefield. But I will not tolerate you declaring your feelings before I can”.
Your eyes widened, lips parting to retaliate, but his thumb swiping over your lower lip to silence you almost made you slump onto the ground. He surely knew how to be charming, when he wanted to.
He hummed, taking a sharp intake of air before continuing “I love you. You harvested the love I thought could not bloom in my heart anymore. It is … Highly inappropriate and selfish of me to ask you this, but I want you to promise me I can take care of you from now on”.
Maybe it was your innate tendency of following your instincts, plucking your ears, ignoring his orders and stealing his role. Or maybe he had tried to anticipate your moves, knowing way too well how much of a rebel you were. But your lips met in a scorching kiss.
He tasted like mint, he smelt like cherries. His hands skimmed down your sides, squeezing your hips, before trailing back up to palm your breast through your uniform. You did your best to suppress your soft moan and he nibbled at your earlobe as a response.
“I beg your pardon. — he eventually breathed out, reticently stepping back and fixing his cape — My desire to taste you, at least once, before we may encounter our ends, overcame my self-control”.
You were breathless and speechless, as you looked at him and a small smile crossed your lips “Well, it was not very demure of you, Captain Kuchiki. But I hope to see more of that … Shameless side of you”.
Before he could stun you in silence, though, Rukia’s voice pierced your ears and you made damn sure not to arise suspects for the rest of the conflict.
Hello there! I know it’s been a long time since I posted something. Unfortunately, I am very busy. However, as you can see, I still try to be active! Hopefully, you have enjoyed this format. I am debating on expanding it in the future. Let’s see!
Likes, comments and re-blogs are greatly appreciated as per usual.
Credits for the theme divider: @cafekitsune
