Hey guys =) I've run out of creative steam for my other story at the moment, I'll update it when I get more ideas for the chapter. For the time being, please accept this humble offering of smexy fighting, smut and gorgeous bishies. The name comes from Bleach chapter 279, which is actually called 'Jugulators'. This story will not be a re-write of the fight. It is a different scenario. I dunno, I re-read volume 32 and this idea just popped into my head. By the way, please prepare yourself; I am REALLY bad at writing fight scenes. I've never done it before. I don't have a beta and I just wanted this uploaded. So if there are any mistakes I'll read through it again later and change them.

WARNING: Swearing, smut, blood, Yaoi, all sorts of loveliness.

I don't own Bleach or Jugulators/Jugulators 2.

Please enjoy!

JUGULATOR.

That's what they call me down in Las Noches. Some just call me 'J', but only if they've earned it. And they gotta earn it the good ol' fashioned way. The Jaegerjaquez way. Traditional, one-on-one, blood and sweat fisticuffs in the alley. Mind you, it takes a hell of a lot to impress me. Yeah. You could say I'm somewhat of a…legend. I made my name big in my teenage days as a street fighter. I learnt a lot of crazy shit from a lot of crazy people. I got beat up so bad I couldn't walk, but I always got back on my feet and kept moving forward towards some goal that I can't even remember now. I suppose I had nothing better to do. Besides, I helped some eccentric rich dude from getting robbed and ended up becoming a pro-boxer. I toured the world, won a few big boxing competitions, had my face slapped in sports magazines. Hell, someone even took the time to write a book about my 'troubled childhood'. That eventually led to management, and in a swindled back-street deal I ended up stuck with this shit heap of a bar in my possession.

Might I add that I've never been knocked out before? Well, until I met Ichigo that is.

Yup, it took more than anyone could ever throw at me to knock me out. I'm not bragging, but I'm hard as nails. You can imagine how wounded my ego was after he succeeded to make me stone-cold with one punch to the jaw. Got one heck of a swing on him, that kid. Reminds me of me when I was his age: young, headstrong and full of fire. You see, he gave me a little bit of relief from the mundane routine that I had set out for myself. I had expected to be running Las Noches with no problem until the day I got too old to chew my own food, but no. Fate decided against a modest life and decided to throw me some crazy ginger with a temper and one sweeeeet ass.

…Not that I'm complaining.

My bar ain't a fancy joint, so you wouldn't usually expect the finest of folk strolling in to have tea. It's populated by the roughest and toughest of Karakura, and those who are passionate about fighting. That's why it irritates me to see youngsters coming in and hanging around just to be near a celebrity. They come in, giggling and ordering ridiculous things that I didn't even know we stocked, and trying to flirt with me and the patrons. What's more, they're all girls. Soft, peachy-skinned, petite and pretty little high-school girls. Sometimes an unsuspecting male is dragged in along, but they're usually pathetic excuses for men. I think the atmosphere must intimidate them, what with my bar being full of what you could call 'alpha males'. The boys never stay long. I even find myself thinking it's a shame too, because a few of them are quite cute.

Oops, I forgot to mention that I'm gay. Found that out ages ago, but you don't need to know how. Anyway, like I said, the boys never last long. One look at most of the men inside and they're off. That's why I was so surprised when Ichigo and his friends came, and stayed until one in the morning. I even ended up getting a good fight. One of those days I suppose.

It was a Friday evening in late spring. Usual atmosphere in the joint. I usually keep an eye on what's going on as the bartender, but occasionally I like to sit at the bar with some of my mates and have a drink. It was one of those nights, if I recall. I was sitting in a booth with one of my friends, Starrk. Starrk has been my best friend since I was little. We've been through so much shit together, and now he co-manages Las Noches for me. He's also married to a gorgeous woman called Harribel, who I'm sure I would have jumped if I weren't gay.

We were in the middle of talking about new stock when the heavy clunk of the entrance doors sounded, signalling someone coming in. Being the careful and curious owner I leaned over to inspect the newcomers. A small dark-haired female who looked in her late teens stood on the doormat, dressed in some faded skinny jeans and a lilac bandeau top. Around her wrists and knuckles lay fresh, white bandages. Huh. She didn't look like the rest of the stupid women who paid me little visits. Behind her was a massive, hulking man. He had Latin-American features, with dark chocolate coloured hair and deep olive skin. He wore a Hawaiian dress shirt; however that made him look no less scary. I mean, I was tall but Jesus. They stood, inspecting the place a little before moving to sit down.

Aaaaand that's when I saw him. At first, all I wanted to do was boink his brains out but I assure you it's more than that now. He must have been standing behind Mister Mexico , but when I caught a flash of orange in the corner of my eye I didn't even make an effort to look like I wasn't staring. Fuck, God must have been seriously horny when he made this kid. My eyes followed the shock of spiky orange towards his face. I wasn't sure whether you could call males beautiful, but if you could the young man certainly fit the category. He had smooth, defined features fixed in a scowl. I just thought it made him look hotter. He was donning a form-fitting navy blue t-shirt, with a faded 'Pepsi Cola' logo centred on his chest. It wasn't hard to tell that he worked out a lot. Loose grey jogging pants hung from his long slim legs, stopping at his ankles where blue red and white Everlast boxing shoes met the floor. Ok, if I hadn't been hard before I was definitely hard now. It was past the point where I just wanted to fuck him; I wanted to fight him too. He was obviously into boxing, and I couldn't wait to take him up on the challenge. Patience Grimmjow, patience.

The three moved towards a table across at the far end of the bar, lazily sitting down whilst nattering amongst themselves. Well, the chick and the ginger cutie were. Mister Mexico didn't look like he was speaking at all. All of a sudden I got the urge to serve them myself. I motioned towards Nnoitora, one of the waiters. Of course my bar-staff know me well enough by now, so he nodded and left them alone.

"Go over already, you've been staring at him for long enough." Starrk drawled from across me. In my continuous stare I had completely forgotten about his presence. I smirked and glanced back at him.

"Ya know me too well." I grinned, rising from my seat and grabbing the notebook from my pocket. Trying not to look too eager I calmly walked over to their table. The red-head looked up as I approached, meeting my eyes. His were deep mahogany, sparkling with fervour and something indescribable. Although his face remained in a frown, I could tell I'd sparked his interest.

"What can I get ya?" I asked them. The small female and Mister Mexico looked up at my voice. Maybe I looked too intimidating? Yeah, it happens. There was this one time when I made a kid piss his pants just by looking at him. No joke.

Back to the situation. The sexy kid had pulled his mouth into a cocky smile; I got the feeling that he wasn't just gonna tell me what he wanted to order.

"You're a waiter?" He asked. At the time, it seemed like a pretty dumb question, but his answer to my next comment made me wanna get to know him even more.

"Tch, yeah, ain't it obvious?" I tossed my head back a little arrogantly, sensing my blue hair ripple from the action.

"Well, you were sitting at the booth over there before. Slacking on the job?"

There were two things about that sentence that I had deduced about this kid. One: he was attentive as hell. How he'd seen me sitting at the booth without even looking straight at me was beyond my expertise. Two: he was one overconfident little bastard. Shit, I wanted to screw him more and more by the minute. Attempting not to look fazed by his comment, I raised my eyebrow and folded my arms gruffly.

"Listen here kid, I fuckin' own this place, I can do what I like. Now whaddya want before I lose my patience."

He chuckled and ordered a Jack Daniels. His friends ordered some hard spirits, and I went to pour them behind the bar, casting Starrk a smug glance that I'm sure the red-head won't have missed. I was sure I could feel his dark eyes burning into me from across the room. I was so horny by then I could think of nothing but bending him over the stools and fucking him so hard he forgot his own name. Name. I needed his name. There was no chance I was letting a hot piece of ass like himself get away without least knowing what he was called.

Walking back to the table nonchalantly with the drinks settled on a tray I held easily, I placed them down onto the wood and folded the tray underneath my arm. Before I could turn my ass back around and show the ginger cutie what he was missing, he spoke again.

"Hey Mister Owner, you seem pretty in-the-know. Can you tell us a good place to box around here? We just started University here and we need a place to practise."

I grinned. Perhaps there was a chance I wouldn't have to try so hard to see him again.

"Oh yeah. I got an arena in the back room. Ya gotta sign up but it's free to use and ya gotta buy yer own kit and shit like that. Want me to sign ya up?"

Those irresistible mocha eyes lit up as he grinned at me enthusiastically. He nodded.

"How 'bout you two?" I signalled towards the midget and Mister Mexico. They both gave their agreement and I went off to find the admission papers, smirking when I heard the female talk quietly to her red-head companions. Now, if I pride myself in one thing, it's my uncanny sense of hearing.

"Ichigo, stop staring. I know you think he's hot but it's very rude."

The speech was followed by a smacking sound and a manly cry of pain.

"You fucking bitch! There was no need to hit me!" I smiled to myself; his small friend was quite aggressive. I was beginning to like the lot of them. Especially Mister Mexico. He didn't bullshit; he just sat there quietly minding his own business. After getting them to sign admission forms, I decided to be nice and show them the hall. A few years back when I had first…acquired… the place, it was a run-down old eatery with faded wallpaper and passé furniture. I'd had a bit of spare cash from my glory days, so I put some money into it and built a modest gymnasium out back. Within weeks it had attracted the best of the best, and I was making pretty good profit.

They followed me into the cool hall, the bang of the doors echoing as I pushed them open a little too quickly.

"Here, have a nose around, test a few things out, do what ya want. I'll be out front. Come get me if ya need me."

I watched as the three began to walk around and check everything out. The small woman went straight for the ring, testing the elasticity of the ropes and the hardness of the floor. Mister Mexico had started towards the punch bags with the red-head. I took this as an opportunity to look at their forms. Being the amazing, smart person I am, I had purposely given out pens with different coloured ink to distinguish them after I had collected their forms. I sifted through the papers and looked at the woman's. Rukia Kuchiki. Her writing was curly and neat, and she'd even drawn some kind of…bunny thing instead of the dot on the 'i'. Weird. I flipped over to Mister Mexico's form, which I was kinda hesitant about because I'd grown to like the name I'd given him. Whatever, I'd probably still call him that in my head. The blue pen scrawled out 'Yasutora Sado'. I suppose it wasn't such a bad name. It would suck if he was called something stupid like, I dunno, Tarquin. Damn I hate that name. Finally, I flicked through to the red-head's. Expressive writing spelled out the name I had so eagerly awaited.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, huh?"

I mused to myself. Looking up to see them all still occupied, I moved back into the bar. Starrk was waiting for me, hanging over the table.

"I'm turning in. I asked Nnoitora to keep an eye on the place, because I need you to take out the trash. Some guy knocked over a table's worth of glasses and bottles. Night J."

He yawned, before grabbing his keys from behind the counter and leaving. I waved him off and took hold of the bin bag. It was normal for Starrk to go home early, but this was quite late for him. I swear to god he has Narcolepsy; it's not normal for a person to sleep as much as he does.

"Oh well."

Pulling open the back doors to the establishment, I emerged into the cool night air of the back courtyard and checked my wristwatch. 11.47PM. Another two hours and I'd probably close up. I walked over to the darkened bins and pushed the bag of broken glass in, careful not to cut myself. My awareness caught a presence behind my back.

"Ya gonna stand there and watch my ass all night?" I turned around, dusting off my hands and revelling in the sight that beheld my blue eyes. Ichigo Kurosaki stood in front of my, hands stuffed into jogger pockets and hair shimmering in the moonlight. By the look on his face I had also successfully annoyed him.

"Fuck off. You know what I'm here for." I grinned.

"I was wonderin' when ya would say that. Take your stance. Don't worry about rules. We ain't boxin'."

"Don't worry about rules?" Ichigo tilted his head to the side in confusion, causing a twinge of pain in my chest. Fuck he was cute.

"We're street fighting." His eyes widened momentarily before returning to normal, and he assumed a defensive position.

The first time I leapt at him felt amazing. It was like a head rush of something that I had never felt before, and I took some weird shit when I was younger. I pushed off the concrete and ran, readying both of my fists to strike. He must have seen this because he moved to counter my attack, blocking one fist with his arm and the other with his hand. I pulled up my leg and landed a kick to his chest, making him fall backwards onto the hard ground. Ichigo winced and pulled himself up, holding the injured area.

"Fuck!"

"I told you not to worry about rules."

He gave me a look of disbelief before resuming his stance once more. This time, he came at me first. I could feel it. Every ounce of passion, anger, hatred, and a thousand other emotions that went fleeting through my head was reflected in his face. I just stood there like a dipshit until he was too close for me to escape his attack range. When I finally realised the situation, I managed to lean backwards just enough for him to clip the side of my jaw. I staggered back slightly, off balance from the blow, but caught orange in my peripheral vision. Ichigo came at me again this time with a kick that was heading for my chin. This time I was too fast for him and jumped to the side, catching his leg. I twisted, so that my leg had swept his remaining stability away and sent him crashing to the ground. I hung back as he moved from the ground again. Ichigo groaned and stood up again. That groan sent shivers of anticipation and adrenaline searing through my body. I noticed that there was a small trickle of blood dribbling down the side of his head.

"You're an animal."

Ichigo stated plainly with a grin on his face.

"Heh, so are you kid." His grin widened, as I moved to attack him again. I went for his gut. I must've been drunk on love or fucking out of my mind, because I seriously miscalculated the position of his hands and was promptly smacked in the side of the face. His fist fucking HURT. I was sent flying to the concrete at lightning speed, hitting my head against the gravelly surface. Wooziness overcame me; however I accomplished the task of returning to my feet.

It continued like that for a while afterwards. We would both attack and counter each other, occasionally landing hits. God knows what his friends were up to. I don't think either of us cared to be honest. People are fucking stupid. Don't get me wrong, I make mistakes all the time. It's just, I didn't expect to do something so ridiculously stupid after less than half a day of meeting the kid. I'll get onto why in a moment…

I mean it was probably more stupid than the time I tried to take a 6"7 giant down in a fist fight. I won by the way, but it was still idiotic. So there we were, bloody and sweating, covered in grime from rolling across the alley ground. At this point in time, he was in worse condition that I was.

Ichigo's cheek had swollen ever so slightly from hit. I do hope I hadn't broken it; I'd have to call Szayel to patch us up later. The blood on his forehead had dried a little, causing some of his beautiful orange hair to become matted and stained. On his fists were several bruises and cuts. I looked down at my own hands, which were in a similar state. I think I'd broken one of his ribs. Mind you, I got some good blows to my gut as well. They were gonna bruise up real bad.

I don't really remember much about this bit. All I remember is that, after staring each other down for a while, we had lunged for each other and then everything went dark.

I woke up some time later. The night sky hazily began to steady out, so I pulled myself up. Lying in front of me, unconscious, was Ichigo. Fuck, we must have knocked each other out something good. I was more preoccupied with the fact I had been knocked out in the first place; no one had actually ever managed to render me unconscious. I wasn't sure if I liked it either. Any which way, it had happened, and that made this kid pretty talented.

I moved over towards Ichigo, shaking him gently. He looked even sexier up close, smooth tan skin all beat up and bloody. His long eyelashes fluttered open.

"Hey. Look at me." I said, hovering over his face. When his chocolate eyes landed on mine, I grinned.

"I lost didn't I." He said, looking slightly downcast from his vulnerable position on the ground. I shook my head and responded.

"Nah. Ya knocked me out too, I just woke up quicker."

"Oh." I pulled Ichigo up so he sat facing me, allowing him to clear his head.

"Hey kid," He looked up, studying me quietly. "You're one hell of a fighter. Ya better come back so we can re-match."

All of a sudden, his features darkened. His bloodied fists grasped my jacket collar and pulled me nearer. I tried to remain calm as his lips came within inches of mine.

"I won't lose next time." Ichigo growled, so low I could barely hear. But those lips were just making me want to do all sorts of naughty things to him. Restrain yourself Grimmjow. You already got to fight with him. Don't fuck things up.

"We'll fuckin' see 'bout that." All of my efforts flew out of the window. After years of training in every sort of bodily discipline I could name, my own flesh betrayed me. I grasped his t-shirt and closed the distance between us, crushing his lips against mine. My chest let out a delighted rumble when he placed his hands on each side of my face and leaned against me. I wasted no time deepening the kiss and delving my tongue into his waiting mouth. His began to dance with mine, massaging and tasting him thoroughly. I could still taste the Jack Daniels he had ordered on his lips. He picked up the pace, furiously exploring my mouth and challenging my dominance. Of course I didn't have that at all, and put my hand on the back of his head, pressing out lips together even more were it possible. I rolled my tongue along the side of his, massaging the tip of the wet appendage. He moaned lowly, gripping the hair at the base of my neck and sending tingles down my spine. I pulled away, allowing him to breathe.

Ichigo looked at me for a few seconds prior to ripping his shirt off a straddling my lap. His confidence and forcefulness made me really, really, really horny. I looked at the prize that was sitting on top of me. Miles and miles of smooth lightly tanned skin covered his muscular body. Ichigo's toned abdomen was enough to make anyone's mouth water.

I slid my hands across the even planes of his pectorals, roughly pinching rosy nipples with my thumb and forefinger.

"Ahh~" By now I had reconnected our mouths, nipping and sucking his lower lip. Ichigo seemed to be really enjoying it. He mewled and made all sorts of delicious little noises when I latched onto his neck, violently attacking in a frenzy of nibbles and licks. I felt his fingers begin to explore my hair, threading between the blue strands and tugging slightly. One of my hands travelled up to cup his neck, whilst the other slyly slid down his body to forcefully palm his aching erection. It wasn't hard to tell through those thin jogging pants. I drew away from Ichigo's neck and looked up, connecting our eyes as I slid my hand underneath the waistband of his pants. His ass ground into my clothed cock when I started pumping his up and down, causing me to growl.

Now, I know what a good hand job feels like, and when it feels good, I get a certain look on my face. Right now, Ichigo was making that same face and it made me very pleased with myself. I pushed my sharp nail into the slit, pressing him to cry out. It was a good thing nobody goes by that way, because the next thing I knew I was on my hands and knees hovering about him, bobbing my head up and down on his length.

"Ahhhhhh! Fuck you're –ah-! Good at this." Ichigo whimpered whilst I ran my wet tongue over the swollen tip in small circles and hummed. Little vibrations caused his whole body to arch into the cold concrete. I allowed the tip to pop from my mouth and let it cool in the night air, blowing on it to further chill his senses. He looked positively delicious, all sprawled out beneath me. His eyelids had half closed; lusty orbs watching me suck the hell out of his dick. I licked my lips and deep throated him. That must have really surprised Ichigo because he cried out and thrust upwards, nearly choking me. Luckily I was quite experienced and forced my throat to relax around his silken length. I sped up my actions, burying my nose against his pubic bone every time I bobbed downwards.

"Ny-ahhhhhh Grimm~ Gonna…cum…" Ichigo's head hit the ground with a thud, and I felt his body tense as he came in my mouth. His muscles relaxed and he lay panting on the pavement. I swallowed the load of salty liquid that had been ejaculated over my tongue, savouring its taste.

"Damn."

I grinned widely, knowing what kind of sadistic and perverted look it gave my features. Ichigo saw this and furrowed his eyebrows. Heh, he was definitely still a kid if he thought that's all that was happening. With the remaining strength I had left in my arms, I grasped his waist and picked him up, flipping him onto his stomach.

"O-Oi! What are you doing?" He shrieked, trying to squirm away. My hands took his hips and forced him back along the concrete towards me. The cheeky bitch! There was no way I was letting him go without repaying me for that blatantly awesome blowjob. I melded my clothed body against the top of his naked form and took hold of his chest with my arm, running my fingers down to a flat stomach. Ichigo shuddered underneath me.

"Ya don't seriously think I'm lettin' ya run away after that Kurosaki?" I purred lowly into his ears. From then on I think he had accepted the fact he wasn't getting away, and tugged at my shirt.

"Take it off." The grin returned on my face, and I pulled it off to allow him to scrutinize my abdomen. Oh yeah. I'm hot. I could tell that he liked it. Going back to the task at hand, I ran one of my large hands up his leg, roughly squeezing his ass. He groaned. Loudly. For a second I was worried whether or not someone was gonna come, but quickly remembered I didn't give a shit when I saw his erection re-awakening.

By this time my dick was pressing against my jeans so hard that it was hurting, and I just wanted to be buried deep inside that ass puckering away in front of me.

"Ya done this before?" I asked, unsure of whether or not to be rough. I wasn't that selfish.

"Just hurry the fuck up and do it before I do it myself." That fire was such a turn on. I leaned forward and bumped my fingers against his smooth lips.

"Suck." Ichigo turned around to protest, and I quickly slipped them into his mouth to shut him up. My other hand slid under his belly to fondle the red-heads balls, feeling him moan around my hand. His tongue ran over the tips of my appendages sensually, seemingly uncaring of the dirt and blood that was caked on them. I pulled them away and placed them near his entrance, teasing a little with my fingers and listening to him gasp in anticipation. Yet again, he tried to speak, probably to complain. I easily stopped this by thrusting two of my fingers knuckle-deep.

"NNgh! Grimmjow!" He forced out. If he had been able to take a savage beating from me, then he would certainly be able to cope with a little pain. I immediately began fucking him with my fingers, making sure to search for that one spot that would make him come running back to me after tonight.

"FUCK!" Ah. So that's where the little bastard was hiding. I chuckled to myself and pressed down on the same spot, eliciting a sweet, low keening sound from those delectable lips. Continuing to scissor his ass, I delighted in the way my fingers disappeared inside that tight heat. Ichigo twisted his body around again captured my mouth in a rough kiss, nibbling at my lip and tangling his tongue fiercely with mine. I removed my fingers and unzipped the fly of my jeans, keeping our mouths in lip-lock. Ichigo's hand reached back to stroke my aching erection slowly, smearing pre-cum over the head messily.

"Fuck me already…"

He guided me in between those sweet, caramel globes, setting the tip of my cock at his ass. I pushed in relentlessly, giving him only seconds to adjust before I set a maddeningly fast past. I'm not usually one for rough sex, strangely enough, but I felt obliged to fuck him as ruthlessly as we'd fought earlier on. It was probably because of all the adrenaline in my body. Ichigo must have been really excited, because I could practically smell the arousal pouring from him as he pushed back against my member.

"Mmmm!" His hips rolled against mine as I made love to the red-head like some sort of rabbit. I really mean it; we went at it like animals. He moaning each time I pounded my dick into his velvet rectum and hit that sweet spot. I was panting and pumping his length, pushing him closer and closer to his climax. Dear, sweet God it felt amazing. Intense pleasure coursed around my limbs. Our bare knees crunched and slid against the gritty, cold concrete, leaving small streaks of red on the ground. I flipped him onto his back, exposing his impassioned face to me. Ichigo smirked and licked his lips devilishly. This kid was gonna be the death of me.

"Yer so damn sexy." I growled out between my sharp teeth, and pulled one of his perfect legs over my shoulder, slamming back into him. His head fell back again, this time audibly cracking against the pavement. I could see his nails dig into it for support against the violent movement of our bodies. Since I was feeling especially invigorated, I decided on some light teasing. Decelerating down to an almost gentle pace I made sure to graze against his prostate slow and hard to maximise the pleasure. He was probably in a bit of pain anyway; it was the least I could do.

I could feel the pressure in my gut rise to an unbearable degree, screaming for release.

"Ngh Grimmjo-ahhhhhhh!" Ichigo cried out desperately "Gonna cum again!"

"Then cum." I grunted, speeding up once more and falling into the missionary position. His arms wrapped around my back. He smelled positively divine. I leaned into his neck and gave several thrusts that were hard enough to push him away from me, hitting his prostate dead-on each time. Ichigo's body convulsed around mine, sending me into orgasm at the same time.

"Gah!" I heard myself give an unintelligent cry as I shot my load inside him. The red-head's cum spurted onto his belly and trickled down his heaving sides. Toppling down on top of him I moaned and pulled out, thoroughly spent.

"Ya better come back tomorrow or I'll hunt ya down. I friggin' mean it."

"Hah…" He chortled with his last ounce of energy. "Course I will. I want a rematch."

So there you have it. That's how I met Ichigo. The rest is stuff you've probably all heard before. He came back the next day, and the next, until he frequented the place so often that I gave him unlimited access to the hall. We fought, we fucked, and even ended up dating. He eventually convinced me to compete again, which I'm pretty glad of. I've won a few trophies since we met. Maybe I'm just super-talented, or it's the invigorating night-before-the-tournament sex, I dunno. Who gives a shit anyway. Love's a crazy ol' thing ain't it. He's still as feisty in bed as he ever was, of course, so life never gets boring. We're doing something new every day. Hey, what can I say, I'm head over heels with the crazy ginger. Who woulda thought?

The guys down at Las Noches have also given him his own honorary title- Jugulator Segunda. I always call Sado Mister Mexico, and Rukia has been fondly dubbed as the Poison Dwarf. Obviously Ichigo gets pissed off, but I think he's more irritated by it than Sado is (Rukia doesn't know yet, I fear for my life). Although seeing the red-head's face twisted in an exasperated grimace will always remind me of the day we met. Crazy ginger.

I wanted the smut to be sort of hard and fast on the alley ground, a completely spur of the moment and lust-driven lovemaking. It didn't really come out like that anyway…. Didn't really know how to tie this one up at the very end either, so please tell me what you think. And I finished most of this at three in the morning so I can guarantee the quality will fluctuate throughout the story. Jugulator Segunda means Jugulator the 2nd. Also, I got the nickname 'The Poison Dwarf' from my best friend Purerapist. Give the credit to her~ Love ya Cat!

P.S No offence to anyone called Tarquin. I don't hate it, Grimmjow does.

I really hope you enjoyed this tbf because it killed me writing it. Please review!

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