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j-u-u-z-o · 1 month

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34 + 35 (Shuhei Hisagi x F. Reader) 18+ NSFW‼️

AN: Yes. The time has come. My first shuhei scenario! ☺️ I just wanted test my luck and see what I can do with this fella. And, I just know I ate this up! Enjoy! 💕

Synopsis: The deadline is approaching and shuhei is overwhelmed. you want your bf to take a break from his job as the Editor-of-Chief of the Seireitei Communications Board. He’s gotta give in one way or the other for you. And, you know that. But, will he?

WARNING: Shuhei being a cute tomato, needy cuddly gf, dry humping, 69, smut, a sweetheart but can be a freak in the sheets, GRAMMAR

Take your time reading and dive into the story!

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The sounds of paper shifting from one place to the other echoed in the bedroom. The news stories that need to be edited were scattered all over the bed as shuhei held one up to go over it. And, the other one in his free hand probably forgotten. He mumbled a random paragraph to himself with focused yet tired eyes. Squinting to find any more errors.

“Tsk.” He put the article down in front of him and leaned forward to edit a few errors in the paragraph. A long tired sigh dragged in the room as he read it over again. He then ripped his eyes away from the paper, scribbled with his word vomit, and picked up another article. His back was aching so badly from the way he sat in bed. He ignored it and started reading another piece. On the other hand, you were busy packing some of the leftovers from dinner in the kitchen. You brought food for him a while ago while you had to eat yours by yourself… in the living room.

As time went by, you looked at the time on the microwave. A short sigh left your lips and you turned back to pick up the stacked bowls and walked to the refrigerator. “He needs to take a break.” You placed them inside the fridge’s shelves. “Even if it’s just a short one.” You mumbled, closing the fridge door. You looked around the kitchen to make sure everything was tidied up before you turned off the lights and stepped out of the room and went to the living room.

You sat in the living room. Mindlessly watching tv as time went by. And yet, Shuhei never left his bedroom. The known fact made you stare into space the more you thought about it. As a matter of fact, it’s been over…3 hours since he “locked” himself in there. Initially, you came to his place to spend time with him after work and to stay over. He had told you that he needs to finish some work. But, he’s clearly overworking himself. He even promised that he was going to take some breaks, but of course, that never happened. It made you made you angry and worried about him at the same time.

Shuhei is an extremely mature and calm person. despite his punk-like appearance, he’s a very hardworking man who takes responsibility and risks when possible. You love that for him. Everything, actually. He’s a busy man. Yes. But he needs to be reminded that there’s only one shuhei. And you will not lose him because of stress.

“You know what…”. You got up from the comfort of his couch and turned off the tv and headed to his bedroom.

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Quietly, you walked in the hallway. You felt a little intrusive as you did even though you care about his well being. As you got closer to his door, you heard him mutter something under his breath. Your fingers held on to the door handle on the sliding door and you took a deep breath. Just as you were about to slide it open, the sharp sounds of paper getting shifted around quickly made you stop. You really don’t want to disturb him but you insisted.

You slid the door open slowly and looked up to see him surrounded by papers thrown around him in various directions on the bed. He’s very passionate about his job as the EIC of the Seireitei Communications Bulletin Board. But, he can find someone who can help him with his work. Like Izuru, you noted to yourself. Distracted by the scenery, “oh”, he noticed you were standing at the doorway. “Hey babe.” He smiled. You regained your focus and smiled softly at him and walked over to the bed. He outstretched his arm to come over to his side and wrapped it around your form. “What’s up?” he looked up at you while his fingers rubbed your side. You whined softly. “Hm?” He blinked, watching you quietly crawl into the bed and sit next to him — your legs resting on your side. “What’s wrong?” He asked as you looked at all of the scattered papers with a pout.

“Y/n-“

“I want to cuddle with you.” You whined, leaning on his side.

Your warmth instantly sends shivers down to his spine. A faint tinge of red covered his cheeks. “B-babe…I-i can’t.” He stammered, refusing politely to your request. He picked up another article and started reading it. To regain his focus, again. He feels bad for choosing his job over you. Just this once, he mentally noted. The deadline is his top priority. Your eyes flickered to the article he held in his right hand. An op-ed , you noted. You began brushing his left arm as he read it. Up…and down. Slowly caressing his muscles and then sliding it down softly until your dainty hand interlaced his own, lovingly. “Shu~” you whined lowly. He hummed. “Take a nap with me.” You held onto his hand and looked up him. “I can’t.” He refused again.

You played with his fingers as he read a paragraph. He let you. Eventually, circling his paln with the tip of your finger. Slowly. the soft tingles travelled up his arm. “Mmm.” He moaned, smiling as he read a sentence. You smiled softly and did it again. Over and over until he turned to kiss your forehead.

After a long while, you rested your head on his shoulder and caressed his forearm. Your fingertips rubbed against the veins on it. A sigh left your nose and you shifted. He continued reading over the words. You took his arm and put it in between your breasts. He frowned as you did. Trying to focus. But your sweet warmth is distracting him. especially his arm being sandwiched between your breasts. You moved your chest up and down while you held on to his hand. “Babe…” he said lowly. There was no tinge behind it. But you weren’t sure if it was a call to stop or if he was actually liking it. You looked up at him as you did. His face looked focused. However, you swayed your breasts side - to - side playfully on purpose. He bit his bottom lip.

That caught his attention.

You did it again with a little more force until he turned his head to you. “What are y—“ you kissed him softly, cutting him off. “Wha-“ you kissed him again. “Babe- I…“ and again. “I- I- need to….” And again. “Y/n—“. And another until he leaned back. You whined, pouting at his rejection. “Shu~.” You leaned closer to him. He looked at you expectantly with a flushed look on his face. “Let’s take a little nap.” You said softly, resting your hand on this thigh. “I…I just have a few more left, baby.” He sighed, wrapping his arm around your form and digging his fingers in your side. Begging you to bear with him just for a little while more. “Okay.” You hummed and slid your hand up to his chest. “But you need a break.” Your hand felt his chest rise and fall as you did. “ I know…”He turned back to the forgotten article.

You snuck your hand inside his shihakusho. “Stop.” He moved it away and held your hand. You pouted. He knows he needs to take a break but he can’t. So he thinks.

Quickly, you moved down and hooked your legs hooked his own on either side. Trapping him. “O-oi!” His face started to turn red. You were straddling him…in reverse. “Y-y/n!” You smiled — seating yourself, perfectly. Your ass just right above his bulge.

The room was quiet. Awkwardly quiet. Resting your hands in front of you to anchor yourself, you sat comfortably above his groin with a cute smile on your face..

The white noise in the air can be felt. “You can go back to what you’re doing, shu.” you turned back to look at him, softly. He stared back at you in surprise. Blinking at your audacity, as a matter of fact. His cheeks looks more red than before.

Cute. You smiled.

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The sounds of the fabrics rubbing against each other were heard between you two.You were busy grinding on his clothed bulge. You rolled your hips in circles. Slowly, but with enough pressure to feel his cock rubbing against your pussy. Shuhei was forcing himself to focus on his work. His brows deepened to make him look so. even though, your sweet warmth felt so good. “Mm.” You moaned lowly, rubbing your pussy against the soft fabric with good measure. He bit his lip when you shifted a bit to get some more friction as tried to read a sentence for the fifth time. Since, the article kept moving side - to - side from your ministrations. Clearly, it was hard for him to read it. He moved the paper out of the way and saw your covered ass under the black night dress rocking him in bed. He stared hard. His eyes heavily focused on your ministrations while he held up the article up to the side. He bit his bottom lip as you did. It felt so good.

Soon after, you started bouncing your ass on his clothed length. “Ugh.” He panted lowly, still in a daze as he watched your ass shaking on his clothed cock. You couldn’t see him but you were making him bounce in the bed too. He bit his bottom lip hard as he started to get hard from the way his body moved around as he sat in bed. He gripped the paper in his hand when he felt a good spot your ass was bouncing on — the tip. He rewarded you with a heavy sigh. “Unh!” You hiccuped, feeling it poking your pussy. You started humping it quickly — making you shiver as felt how hard flaccid it’s become. You felt like you were humping a hard stick. A really good one.

You leaned forward and went back to bouncing on his cock. “Damn.” He grit his teeth. The way you shook your ass up and down, shuhei gave an open mouth groan while he was getting rocked by just your ass. You then bucked your hips roughly against the tip. “Mrm!” You whimpered at the sensation; making your pussy throb more. He laid his head back on the headboard — relishing the fluttering sensations his cock was receiving from you. “Aaaaahhh.” He sighed heavily, staring up at the ceiling. His mouth wide open, he breathed heavily at the sensation and spreads his legs out more. “Uuuunh.” He moaned lowly, feeling more of that sweet warmth of your ass. He ripped his eyes away from the ceiling and looked down at you. His cheeks were hot. He rests his hand on your ass to make sure it’s not going anywhere while he held on to the now-crumbled paper in the other. His slow yet rough breathes didn’t go unnoticed by you. Especially, his toes were clenching. Shuhei grits his teeth roughly to cover his moans. He knows you got him wrapped around your finger. He’s stubborn. However, the way your ass bounces on his length makes him choke on his breath every time.

Huh?

He noticed a shiny wet patch on his pants. He wants to lift up your dress but this view is too much for him. So he thinks; letting curiosity get the best of him. You shook your ass in front him to encourage him since you felt his hand grip on your night dress, shyly. You waited for him but you pulled it up for him. “W-wha-!” He stammered, his eyes widened when you pulled your dress up and showed him your glistening pussy. His face turned red like a tomato while his cock twitches. “Babe! Y-you’re not…” he whispered in surprise, staring at your pretty flesh. “Hmm?” You turned around, acting oblivious. You rubbed your pussy against the dark fabric and he breathed in deeply when he saw the long strings of your arousal stretching out as you did. “Mmmm.” You shut your eyes to relish the pure sensation of the soft fabric. You spread your legs further part as the source of warmth was stroking your pussy, softly. Just slowly brushing your folds and your clit against it. It was making your pussy pulsate at the sensation, relentlessly.

He shyly looked at your beautiful ass and your glistening puffy pussy. It was too hot to ignore.

“S-shit.” He had to rip his eyes away from you and forced himself to look at the poor crumbled article in his hand. “Mmmm~” you hummed softly at the sensation, slowly circling your ass on his clothed cock, making your pussy throb with excitement. He peeked at you from his peripheral. Your moans echoed in his head. You sat up and looked down in between. You slid your hand in between your legs and searched for his fly on his pants. He squinted. Not sure if he should stop you or not. You pushed the fabric to either side and unveiled his hard cock. He breathed in heavily as you gently pulled it out and stroked it, slowly. You aligned the tip against your pussy and began grinding on it. His cock was sandwich in between your folds. You leaned on one of your elbows and rolled your hips up against the warm flesh. “Aaahh.” You moaned softly, stroking your folds slowly against his cock. His eyes were getting hazy as he watched. The way his cock was getting smothered with your warm arousal lovingly, his mouth got watery at the sight. “W-wow.” He panted, not daring to rip his eyes away from your beautiful pussy.

The slow wet sounds goes unnoticed as your pussy glazed his sheath with your warm arousal. He stared deeply at the tip of his cock getting covered by your slickness; creating a shiny warm cover around it. “O-oh.” He sucked his breath when you teased the tip by poking it against your entrance but not going all the way in.

Tsk. That’s it.

You slid your pussy against the thick shaft slowly while your eyes were shut. You were in your own world — relishing the pleasure you were feeling —

“Hm?” Your eyes opened and you stopped. You felt a warm digit rubbing against your cunt. It rubbed it in circles and then dipped inside your cunt. You turned to look at him and saw pure lust in his sharp eyes. You clenched around his thumb as it was dipping into your cunt, teasingly. He immediately picked up the articles and dumped them on his nightstand and said heavily, “Come here..”, before he laid down and pulled you back effortlessly with your legs and pushed your rear up to his face.

Your face suddenly felt hot.

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Your trembling lips faced his length. His arms were wrapped around your thighs and his muscular hands spread your cheeks open; observing your glistening pussy. You stroked his cock as he did; waiting for him to start. You felt his exhale brush your flesh. “Uuunnh” you moaned, shivering when he slid his tongue in between your folds. Your legs twitched at the sensation. Making your squirm in his grip. He did it again. And again. Earning him a gratified sigh from your trembling lips. “Mmmm.” You bit your lip when you felt the warm muscle circle your clit. “Unh~!” You gasped, trembling in his hold as you stroke his cock. Your brows deepened as you did; trying so hard not cum so soon. So, you bit your bottom lip for some kind of self control. His tongue glides through your pussy and you rolled your hips on it. “Oh fuck! Shu~” you lifted your head up and hissed. You rewarded him by licking the underside of the tip of his cock. Slowly, with some pressure against your soft tongue. “U-uunh.” He moaned as he circled your clit. You circled the pinkish head lovingly like it was a lollipop; feeling the veins on your tongue as you did. “A-aaah.” He breathed out heavily and clenched his toes. You were mimicking the way he was licking your folds and then dippinng it inside your cunt. He listened to the wet sounds of his tongue licking your wet pussy and cunt — watching your pussy throbbing in front of his eyes. “Ugh!” You hiccuped as he mouthed your entire pussy and kissed it deeply. The wet lip smacking sounds rang in yours ears and your tummy pushed in — fluttering from the warmth of his crafty mouth.

He was eating your pussy with his eyes shut. Sucking your inner lips with so much want that it made you shiver. You began sucking his cock. Wrapping your lips around the tip and sucking gently while your tongue swiped around it. “Ugh.” He groaned, licking his lips to relish the warmth from your mouth. He spreads your cheeks out more and started flicking your clit, feverishly. “Mm!” you whimpered as you sucked it, fondling his sack, gently. You felt it twitch in your hand and you kneaded it more. “Shit.” He spreads his legs further apart and pushed his hips up to your mouth from the sensations.

With a wet pop, you licked down his length and sucked his sack. “Aaawwwwh.” He moaned heavily and dropped his head back on the pillow. “Mmm.” You sucked the skin and licked around it. He stared up at the ceiling and breathed heavily as you did. “Oh baby.” He breathed out. Your warm lips felt so good fondling his sack. He smacked your ass to reward you. You licked all the way up to the tip and flicked it, playfully. “U-ugh.” He shivered at the sensation. His face contorting as you did. A sudden shock of pleasure spread through your body when his tongue grazed your clit with good measure. You broke away and whined. He kissed it with gentle sucks — bobbing his head slowly as if he’s kissing your soft lips. “U-Unh.”Your pants came out like hiccups. You arched your back to dig your knees deeper into the bed to get more friction from his lips. “Uuuuuunh.” You moaned, backing your pussy closer to his face. You shook your ass to get more of it as he started licking your pulsating clit. “Right there, right there...” You praised, your clit pulsating uncontrollably. “Oooo.” You cried as you began circling your pussy against his tongue roughly. Within seconds your were becoming a twitching mess. “U-ugh!” You cried when he tightened his grip around your thighs and sucked your pulsating clit roughly. “Aaaaah!” You cried loudly, squirming in his tight grip and falling down.

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The sounds of the bed springs bouncing steadily and heavy breathing filled the air. You cupped his face and stared into his face. Nose to nose, you rode his cock slowly yet roughly with so much want as he sat up. His arms wrapped around you, he held you tightly to anchor you. “Uuuuunh.” He drawled, looking up at you like you were goddess. You hummed as you rolled your hips and observed his face. “Oooh. Fuck…” he shut his eyes to relish your tight warmth as you rode his cock like ocean waves. “Uuuugh. Fuck.” He groaned lazily, breathing in to your face when you clenched him. “Mm.” You moaned softly, staring deeply at him. His cock was stroking your walls so well lovingly. The tip poking your sweet spot when you grind on him steadily with passion.

“You feel so good, baby.” You whispered, pushing yourself closer to his chest as you rode him. Your hard nipples brushed against his chest earning a deep satisfied pant escape his nose. His hands started brushing up and around your smooth back. Slowly and lovingly; mimicking the way your pussy strokes his cock so well. “Awh. Fuck.” He looked down and rolled his hips up. “Oh. Fuck.” He said again, looked at you with hazy eyes, drunk over your pussy hugging him. You giggled softly and kissed his nose. “Mmmm.” He moaned and shut his eyes again.

The sight made you more wetter. Soon after, He increased his pace a bit when he heard the wet sounds coming from your pussy. “Feels so good.” He whispered, looking up at you with so much love. Everything felt so good between you two. He deep sigh came out from him and he rests his hands on your waist. His fingers were digging in your sides whenever you poked your sweet spot and relishing the warmth of your ass rubbing against his thighs. He’s in heaven.

“Mm.” You hummed and kissed his lips, softly. Both lips enveloped each other, slowly. Dancing with rhythm to the slow yet rough pace of your guys’s ministrations. The passionate slow kisses echoed in the air as you both pleased each other. You broke away by licking the top of his lip and you gently pushed him back on the mountain of pillows. He smirked at you and chucked softly. You placed your hands on his chest and began rolling your hips slowly as you straddled him. “Mmm~” he moaned and smirked at your task. He brushed your thighs as you did while his body was getting rocked up by you, lovingly. “Unh.” You moaned softly, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you rode on his cock. “Awh yeah.” He whispered lowly, looking up at you. His voice filled your ears with praises. Telling you how good you’re doing and how beautiful you look. “Just like that.” He pushed his feet in a bit to feel your ass rubbing him and then bit his bottom lip and slides his hands behind your ass and started thrusting into your cunt with good measure.

Your hiccups were music to his hears as he bucked his hips in to your sobbing cunt. The skin slapping sounds echoed in the room as he watched his cock enter you — glazed with your sweet warm arousal. “Oh Yeah.” You whispered breathlessly, your breasts were bouncing from his ministrations. You were rising and falling from his cock beautifully. “You like that, huh.” He smirked, bitting his bottom lip from the way your pussy taking him so well from his controlled thrusts.

“That’s it.” He hissed, grabbing your ass while you bounced on his length. The tip hitting your sweet spot it knew so so well. He rolls his hips up to meet your sobbing cunt, deeply. “Oooo.” He founded an even better spot and thrusts deeply into your sobbing cunt quickly. “There it is. Right there.” He praised, heeding the wet sounds mixed your ass slamming against his thighs.

“Uuuugghh.” He dropped his head back on the pillow. Your pants were music to his ears. He looked at up you and observed your assets responding to his deep controlled thrusts. “Yeah, baby.” He whispered, sliding his hands up to your breasts. “Ride it.” He breathed heavily, kneading your flesh. You placed your on either side of his head and started riding his cock feverishly. “Mmmm.” You whimpered breathlessly, your wet pussy slapping against his pelvis. He dropped his legs and spreads them legs apart. “Uuuunh..” he groaned deeply, his body getting rocked up by you quickly. The legs of the bed creaked quickly as you both were reaching your high. “Go ‘head baby.” He dropped his hands on either side and pushed his head back deeply into the pillow. “Take me away.” He hissed, thrusting into you quickly. “U-unh!” You cried, feeling the hot syrupy feeling swarm in your tummy.

You ass bounced crazily on him as he slams into your sobbing cunt. “Sh-shu!” You feel a wave of your release coming as you looked down at him. He looked completely blissed out. His eyes were shut and He breathed heavily as you rode him quickly. “Ah-aunh.” You cried, your walls were crumbling with the need to release. He grins at the fluttering sensations and slides his hands down to your waist.

“Ah! Aaaah!” You squirmed crazily, squirting on him. The filthy wet sounds rang between you two as he kept going. “Awwwhh.” He moaned, pushing his head back into the pillow as he slams onto your trembling core. Your walls were squeezing him so much. He smacked your ass roughly as he fucks you feverishly. Soon after, his hips started gyrating. “Ha…ha!” He choked on his breath heavily. “Mm!” His face contorted as gets closer to his release. His fingers digs deep into your sides as he did. “U-uuuugh!” He growls deeply, shooting his cum inside of you. “Shu!”You felt it as he did and twitched from the overstimulating sensations. Making you shoot spurts of your fluids on him.

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His choked breaths echoed in the thick air. His cock covered in his cum, he gave a few short thrusts to cool off from the intense orgasm. You whimpered softly at the sensation and sat on it whenever he thrusts up into your messy cunt. “Mmm.” He heaved as you did, opening his eyes. “Ugh~” he slid inside slowly, taking his time to feel your squeezes around his cock. You leaned forward and kissed him. He moaned in the kisses as he circled his hips until the orgasm faded away. “Mmm…baby.” He broke away from the lazy kiss. You hummed softly as you started leaving soft wet pecks on his left cheek and down to his neck. “Ugh…I don’t think I’ll be able to finish my work.” He said lazily and chuckled. You broke away from your task and giggled softly at the man below you. “That was the plan.” You whispered softly. He snorted. “What will I do without you...”

“Pass out.” You blurted out. He hummed in agreement. “I owe you one.” He smiled softly and you nodded. “Good. I want you to call in sick tomorrow and give the rest of the work to Izuru.�� You told the man. You didn’t stutter.

“Eh?” His eyes widened in surprise.

“No exceptions.” You said sharply and kissed his cheek.

He sighed.

Izuru…please don’t kill me.

He cries inside for the rest of the night.

End.

#bleach #bleach tybw #bleach x reader #bleach x you #bleach x y/n #bleach x female reader #bleach headcanons #bleach imagines #shuhei hisagi #bleach shuhei #shuhei x reader #shuhei hisagi x reader #shuuhei hisagi #bleach smut #bleach scenarios #bleach fluff #bleach fanfiction #bleach fic

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vampi-fixx · 2 years

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payback.

BLEACH | mayuri kurotsuchi x reader

rating: 18+ smut summary: you are mayuri’s newest fourth seat who enjoys testing the limits of his patience. little do you know, you’ve gotten deeper under his skin than you’re aware of. or: in which mayuri, bursting with sexual frustration, fucks himself in front of/with your gigai tw/cw: 18+ only, afab reader, female pronouns, dubcon leaning towards noncon (highly dubious if gigais can consent), mouthfucking, masturbation, degradation, legit mayuri calls you only awful names lmfao, mayuri likes your mammaries, references to age gap (kind of??? i mean he’s old as shit and you’re younger but def an adult too), power dynamics, control issues, gigai... fucking... only slightly crack word count: 2k

my christmas present last year for @unohanadaydreams! she has given me permission to post here

—--

Mayuri Kurotsuchi prided himself on his ingenuity. He was the pioneer of some of Seireitei’s finest technological staples–the new Soul communicators, gigai that stretched and shaped to one’s reiatsu. Nevermind the fact that he had inherited his lab from a former conniving blonde taicho It was purely his own intellectual proclivities that had propelled Seireitei into the modern world, despite his forebearer’s accomplishments. He had created artificial life, had stretched the very limits of one’s imagination for what could be created.

But there was one thing that he did not create, one invention that served to only infuriate him whenever anyone and everyone around him reminded him of its existence.

“Oh? So you possess some of his junk, too?”

You looked up from the shiny, new–he sniffed distastefully–ineffectual plastic swill in your hands. Cheaply designed. Mass-produced. A knockoff of what true genius is.

The cellphone.

“Taicho! It’s not junk. It’s a modern method of communication. If you bothered to play around with it like one of your other little toys, I’m sure you’d like it–”

“Do not even speak to me about that man’s inferior creations!” Mayuri seethed.

He ground his teeth together, feeling the joints in his earpiece grind. Did he not make it clear his distaste for that man’s designs? Did you not even bother to read the training manual, which explicitly had a section about this kind of thing? How much more did he have to spell it out to his mindless, dim-witted subordinates that they were not to tamper with Urahara’s inventions?!

“Akon, you useless cretin, please inform (Y/N) of our policy about those asinine contraptions–”

Akon looked up from something in his hands. Oh. Oh no. Hellfire. Was that–was that truly—

Mayuri felt his temper rise once again.

“Oh, uh, sorry, taicho. (Y/N) sent me a funny meme and I just—” Mayuri crossed his arms together, scowling. Akon quickly shoved his phone into the pocket of his hakama. “Of course, taicho. No phones allowed. We all know the policy.”

Mayuri whirled around, smacking the phone away from your hands. It landed on the floor with a sickening crack. You yelped, scrambling for it. A twisted smile curled on his lips. Heh. As he thought, such an inferior creation couldn’t even stand the mere force of physics–

“It’s a good thing Urahara threw in a screen protector for free!” you said gleefully, holding up the cracked phone screen. Mayuri noted with disgust that only the plastic surface broke, the glass screen behind it remarkably intact. He ignored the small kindle of interest in him at its sheer indestructibility.

He sneered. He absolutely hated that man.

–

Mayuri, to his defense, did not think much of his particular detestation towards your adoration of his former taicho. He was after all, inundated with several comparisons of his accomplishments to Urahara’s. It would make any scientist ticked off.

But what did make him pause is the fact that whenever he thought of Urahara, the sound of your voice would grate his ears.

“Urahara-san is such a genius. Look at his newest invention, Kurotsuchi-taicho!”

“Wow, I wish I’d been around when he was Head of the Shinigami Research Institute.”

Mayuri had several hypotheses over his irrepressible annoyance towards your adoration of his former taicho. Neither of them more plausible than the others.

One, you were a new recruit, his new fourth seat. It could be a generational thing–he wanted to instill upon your idiotic, misguided mind the importance of his research. You had a startling lack of respect towards authority; your response to his threats to chain you to his lab room and pick apart your brain were followed merely by a waggle of your brows, a certain suggestive air.

“Promise that, taicho? I find men who want to pick apart my brain irresistible.”

He howled at you, flung every name in the book, asked what kind of uncultivated manner the Sixth Division had instilled you. No wonder they’d shipped you off to his division--the thought of Byakuya Kuchiki, Mr. Prim and Noble, putting up with your lib? Inconceivable.

But still–perhaps he could mold you. You, his budding protege. Mayuri never took to the mentor role, despised most other peons, but you–

You.

Many times he had caught his stare lingering on the way your shihakusho stretched across your bosom, the smart glint of your glasses when you’d discovered something, the smooth curve to your palms. At first, he chalked it up to mere curiosity. Your back must’ve hurt with the sizable weight of your chest; glasses were an unfortunate defect; your hands were far too delicate to be those of a dedicated scientist–you must have hardly worked in the labs.

Naturally, he found himself thinking of how he could improve on you. Modifications–surely, you would let him.

But soon he found his thoughts shifted from those of improvement, to that of your body. Your breasts, pliant and soft, brushing past him as you moved to grasp a plasma sample. His usual urge to avoid all physical contact entwined with a strange kind of longing: to tear at your shihakusho to grasp your skin in its entirety.

Night after night he’d spent with himself in hand, stroking incessantly, your marvel over his achievements fresh in mind.

“Taicho, you’re a genius!”

“The way you optimized the reactors was incredible, taicho. Very impressive.”

Yes, you peon. Revel in his intellect, the things he could teach you.

How would you take to his seed, he wondered? Did you, a lowly lab assistant, even deserve his attention?

Much less his carnal desire to shut up your incessant questions with acts so depraved it made him even wonder if they were physically possible?

Urahara wouldn’t know how to handle a protege like you. It was better that you were in Mayuri’s hands, so that he could train you, mold you like clay beneath his palms.

He cums over his fist with a howl, gritting his teeth at the hot lava flowing through his digits. He scowls at the mess it leaves behind, thick remnants of his rapture dripping onto the ground.

Time to make Akon clean it up.

–

Urahara’s gigai. A fine creation. The fact that you left yours lying around uninhabited on a mission in the Human World though? Careless. He thought he’d taught you better.

Mayuri was on his own kind of reconnaissance, of course, collecting samples of reishi when he found it lying inside the bedroom of some human. He scowled, approaching your gigai. He nudged it with a foot before scowling and crouching down. Did it contain your likeness? Exactly so?

It was with scientific curiosity that he began a hands-on examination.

Surely Urahara could do better work, he thought. The gigai’s lips were far too thin, her pallor too sickly. Mayuri, with a specific kind of scientific detachment, groped her breast. Based on his measurements, she was slightly flatter. He scoffed. Mayuri would have made a more accurate replica, he thought, frowning as he continued to squeeze your breast.

He wanted to perform a test. Just how much was this gigai in the likeness of you?

He removed his cock from his trousers, with a dim kind of awareness that he was already half-hard. Hm. Perhaps he was not so unaffected by Kisuke’s creation as he assumed, he thought

A hiss escaped his mouth as he gripped his painted cock, pumping it several times. This was all your fault. If you had just been a docile thing, let him experiment on you like he asked; if you hadn’t been such a spitfire thing, calling into question him being out of date with things, perhaps he wouldn’t need to resort to such demeaning acts like this.

Yes, this was all your fault.

You were the reason his hand was flying over his cock like he was some kind of pubescent oaf, intent on thinking only with his mind and what was the next hole to fill. He hated you, hated the way you made him uncannily aware of the physicality of his own body, of what he could do to you–

He ground his teeth together hard, the joints in his ear popping, as his grip encircled the head of his cock. His pleasure felt near bursting, his other hand clutching the edge of the table.

In lieu of punishing your soul, due to the new “anti-sexual harassment” policies that that damned Shunsui instated, the wicked thought occured to him: he should punish your gigai like this. Yes. It was the perfect kind of revenge.

Mayuri pinched a muscle in the jaw of your gigai that had your jaw staying open. Good. He slowly eased his cock inside, hissing at the gummy feel of your mouth.

Yes, he grunted, as he set up a steady pace, pistoning his hips into your mouth. This suited you. Pliant, obedient, quiet. Letting him tarnish you. He felt his balls clench at the thought of you bowing before him.

“Mayuri-sama,” you would plead, with that same kind of spark in your eye. “Please–experiment with me as you’d like!”

He smacked your chest, reveling in the jiggle. Well. Perhaps Kisuke got one thing right. His hand was like a vice on the softness of your gigai’s tit, squeezing hard enough to certainly leave a mark. Good, he thought. That way some remnant of his carnal moment would be left on you.

You deserved to feel pain to the point of pleasure, just as you had inflicted on him.

He thrust the entirety of his dick into your gigai’s mouth, hissing when the head of his cock nudged the back of your throat.

“You asinine fledgling,” he grunted. “How dare you–captivate me so. I should have your head on a pike outside my division, you harlot.”

He moved his hips back, before thrust hard into the inside of your cheek.

“I abhor you,” Mayuri hissed, his hips bucking into your mouth almost automatically, chasing the tight warmth of your throat. “I d-detest your ilk. I–I should have you t-transferred from my division.”

“You–absolute–swine–agh.”

He came down your throat with a shudder, grimacing as he felt his seed ooze out from your mouth, saw it spill from between your gigai’s lips. He wiped it off with your sleeve, before tucking himself back into his pants.

With a prickling sense of accomplishment, he realized he had left a smidge of purple paint between your lips. Heh.

He took a picture with his own device, a much superior version of Kisuke’s cellphone.

For his reference. In case he decided to further experiment on recreating you.

—

“Well well well, to what do I owe the pleasure, miss?”

You snorted, throwing Urahara a lofty glance.

“You know why I’m here, Kisuke.”

He gripped the rim of his hat, pursing his lips. “Are your attempts to seduce the crazy scientist going well?”

You grimaced, shaking your head.

“You know how he is... he’d sooner dissect my corpse than take me up on my offer for dinner.”

“Nah?” Urahara hums thoughtfully. “Well then… why don’t you try this?” he said, tossing you a vial. “Makes even the most rational man lose it.”

–

After your mini-detour, you returned to your gigai, and smacked your lips together immediately once you noticed something was wrong. Just what was this taste in your mouth? Salty and bitter….

Not to mention the paint smeared on your lips. You would have to talk to Kisuke about the kind of shenanigans your gigai got up to….

#bleach x reader #mayuri kurotsuchi x reader #mayuri x reader #bleach imagine #bleach th0ts #bleach smut #tati writes #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: power imbalance #not sfw #tw: dark content

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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 3 months

Text

For What the Future Holds

Prompt: forgiveness

Rating: K/General with mild themes

Setting: Starts Ichigo defeats Yhwach, continues into the very beginning of the ten year time skip. There’s also flashbacks to Toshiro and Momo's past dotted throughout.

Synopsis: Momo notices Toshiro is acting out of sorts ever since the war against the Quincy ended. Meanwhile, Toshiro tries to look to the future.

AN: It’s finally DONE!!

I had the idea for this ages ago (around the time of Horizons, which is why they have a similar structure as you’ll see), but it wasn’t until the 'forgiveness' prompt for the @yearoftheotpevent came up that I finally sat down and wrote it out. It didn't turn out to be the main or overarching theme and the fic itself turned into quite the emotional piece to write ^^;

This was also partly written in light of my headcanon becoming canon! I was aware of the question from Klub Outside a long time ago, but Kubo has confirmed Toshiro and Momo were neighbours rather than living under the same roof, which has always been the scenario I saw for them when I was reading BLEACH and writing fic.

Finally, this fic also has a flashback that slightly ties into When the Souls Sleep and the World is Our Own, but only in that it was a deleted scene and I found a way to include it here instead. You don’t have to read that fic to understand what happens in that scene, just that the setting is not long after they met.

Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy it!

____________________________

“I should’ve told you about it earlier.”

Momo blinks, both at the quietness of Toshiro’s voice and the bowing of his head in her peripheral. She raises her gaze to his face from the now healed over wound on his arm, cancelling the kido as she shifts over to sit next to him. “Told me about what?”

He rolls the tattered sleeve down. He contemplates what to say, staring down at his lap. Behind him, Hyourinmaru’s hilt glints, and beyond, Shinji and Kyouraku watch over those they’d dug out from the ruins earlier. Next to them, Nanao is communicating with someone in the Seireitei – Iemura, Momo suspects – trying to coordinate transportation for the injured, and Isane, bandaged up and still recovering from her own injuries, heals Aikawa. Far away at the Reio’s Palace, she can sense Rukia about to be reunited with her brother.

“That form is why I was training in the caves,” Toshiro says, diverting Momo’s attention back to him. “I should’ve told you about it sooner.

“You mean Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form?”

He nods.

Was that all? She thinks to tease him, to make light of something he seems to be treating with more seriousness than needed, but she halts at his gaze. It’s not the usual icy, determined one she’s used to.

He’s tired – and who could blame him after what they’d gone through? – and it makes him look vulnerable. Something trembles within him, something he’d likely keep hidden behind many walls.

She offers a sympathetic smile. “Why would you need to tell me about it?”

“The way you reacted before…you were startled. If you’d known before, it wouldn’t have been as much of a shock. I apologise.”

It’s true, she’d been stunned, had even flinched with a loud gasp when she first saw him, and was perhaps even a little frightened. She’d stood there, mouth agape and speechless, unable to take her eyes away from him, even as her captain swore and asked who he was. She hadn’t known how else to react, but later as he motioned her towards a piece of rubble to sit on as he explained how he had somehow become an adult, the shock wore off.

She had to resist the urge to hug him out of sheer relief, this was not the time or place for such high emotions. So she’d gotten to work on healing his wounds after he’d transformed back – but only after the others had been found and pulled out from under the rubble.

“It’s all right,” she reassures. “It was startling, yes, but I knew it was you. It was incredible, actually, but also not too surprising now that I know what it is."

He’s stunned, but hides it quickly with a clearing his throat and a deepened frown. “How so?”

“I didn’t see all of the battle you and Captain Kuchiki did with the Quincy, but what I did see was amazing. You froze the Quincy’s shield in mid-air, within a second. A-And then you froze the Quincy completely! I thought for sure he was defeated then, truly.”

He nods to himself, remembering. “So did I. He gave us more than we bargained for in the end.”

“At least he’s gone.” Momo sighs, and with it, a weight is released. “At least…it’s over.” It’s like a vice has loosened around her head and chest. She lets out a shuddering breath and her eyes become watery. “We’re okay, now.”

“We’ll have a lot to do when we get back, it’s not…” Toshiro trails off when he meets her gaze again. His hand twitches at his side, clearly resisting moving it. After a beat, his lips shape into a faint smile and he let’s out a short, tired chuckle. “You gonna cry, bed-wetter?”

She can’t even be mad at the nickname, she becoming too overwhelmed. “No, it’s not the time and place to.” Even as she says this, she’s furiously wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

He shrugs. “No one would blame you.”

“But it’s like you said, we need to focus on the task at hand.” She gestures to the others a short distance away. “On transporting the injured back and figuring out what our next steps are.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” His smile widens a fraction. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Despite herself, she can’t help but grin back. She sniffs and looks down. “I’m just so glad it’s over.”

He only nods with a hum.

A silence passes between them, and Momo slowly realises her own exhaustion. She has enough energy to cast lower powered kido, but even then she might be pushing it. She finds herself sitting back against the same piece of broken wall Toshiro is, listening to the distant chatter amongst their friends and wreckage crumbling and falling. She cranes her neck on the rubble’s edge, looking up at the sky.

She’d seen him soar across it hours ago, only a spec at times, and a more recognisable figure at others. At one point, the cold of his reiatsu had washed over her like a gust in a blizzard, freezing and chilling her to bone. It ebbed away minutes later, but it made her realise the magnitude of his powers. She'd wondered if he had this power this entire time and had chosen not to unveil it until now, when he needed it most to protect the Soul Society. If he was capable of this now, who knew what he could achieve in the future.

But then her mind rolls into another thought, one that makes heat rush up the back of her neck to her ears and try to suppress a chuckle.

“What is it?”

By this point Toshiro had closed his eyes.

“It’s nothing important.”

He opens one eye, unconvinced. “The spike your reiatsu said otherwise.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, chastising herself internally for not keeping it under control. She’s tired, but it’s no excuse. She lets out a small chuckle. “I was thinking that, in a funny way, Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form has given us a glimpse into the future. It’s shown us what you’ll look like when you grow up.”

She had meant it as a tease, to try and lighten the mood, but Toshiro’s frown deepens. As if realising his reaction was unexpected, he let’s out a snort. “Anything can happen between now and then to change how I look.”

The usual bite is not there. The response itself is strange, too.

Before she can ask, her captain comes up to both of them, asking for her help with moving Aikawa’s injured leg into a makeshift splint.

As she rises and leaves with her captain, Toshiro’s smile fades away, and he stares into his lap. No, into something else.

___________________________________

There was a time where future went as far as Granny.

What would she need today? What days was she planning to go out and shop? Would he need to help her with?

When would she pass away?

Toshiro never lingers on that last thought, always distracting himself with whatever he could. At the moment, it’s with sweeping the house and yard.

He’s up to the front porch, pushing the dust and dirt off the edge with the broom. Granny is inside, sewing a new garment together for him.

“You’ve grown again,” she’d remarked earlier with a smile. “You’ll need new clothes now.”

As far as he could tell he hadn’t. The ground seemed to be as far away as it was a week ago, and he hadn’t put on any weight. But he had to admit his clothes the last few days had seemed a fraction shorter at his legs and tighter around his shoulders.

It’s a few minutes later when he hears yelling. A group of children rush past his house, some giggling, others chattering about Momo, who's at the center of attention. She excitedly tells them her application exam date, beaming so wide it must hurt her cheeks.

When was she going to the Academy?

That one stung, and he ignores it with a sweep of the brush.

Months ago, he’d asked Jidanbo what it took to become a Shinigami. The giant was just as surprised as Toshiro had expected him to be.

“Have you changed your mind about not going, Toshiro-kun?” Jidanbo had asked.

“No,” is all he said.

Realising he wasn’t going to elaborated, Jidanbo had shrugged and said, “First, you must have spiritual potential and the ability to show it. You go to the Shinigami Academy, where you learn to become a Shinigami. The exam to get in is tough, sometimes you have to take it multiple times --” he'd rubbed the back of his neck “ -- like I did. My brother was more lucky, he only took the exam once and got in. Once you’ve passed, you’re enrolled in the next semester and that’s about it.”

Toshiro already know even if Momo didn’t get a pass on the exam the first time, she’ll go for it again and again and again, until she was enrolled.

He’d seen her enthusiasm long before this. The day she’d rushed to him, her cheeks flushed and her hair whipped around her from running to find him, and taken him back to his house to show him what she’d just accomplished. She’d cupped her hands together, and several seconds later, a white glow emanated from between the gaps in her fingers. When she’d pulled her hands apart, the orb radiating in her palms broke apart into smaller orbs that floated away. Momo chortled in delight, and Toshiro almost did the same. When she was this joyous it was often contagious, especially when he eyes are so wide with wonder and elation.

What had stopped him was a single thought, one that shot through him and made him realise just how far he’d let her into his life.

One day, she’ll be gone.

____________________________

The next time Momo sees Toshiro is on her way to the First Division. Shinji runs ahead of her on the walkway, listing off the topics they will need to discuss with Kyoraku. She’d been listening intently, but got distracted as they passed Twelfth Division.

From this high up, she couldn’t recognise most of Shinigami out and about, but the moment she saw one with white hair and a short stature and his cold reiatsu faintly emanated up to her, she knew it was Toshiro. He steps out of Twelfth Division’s main barracks, followed by Rangiku. There’s something morose about the way they hold themselves and in their slow walk to the division’s main gate entrance. They come to a stop just as a building blocks Momo view.

“You all right back there?” Shinji asks.

“Sorry, sir! I just saw Rangiku-san and Captain Hitsugaya.”

“Ah.”

“…Are they coming to this meeting too?”

“Nah, just us, Third, and Eighth.” She can hear his grin when he continues after a beat, “Were you hoping to socialise with them?”

“Of course not!” Momo scoffs.

It’s left at that. Still, she thinks back on how they had looked. She’d be sure to visit them sometime soon, if all goes according to plan with the reconstruction of the Districts.

________________________________

Momo found him sitting on the front porch of his house, peeling chestnuts. He hadn’t noticed her at first, but when her footsteps scrapped against the dirt path, he looks up.

“What’re you staring at?” Toshiro asks.

“Sorry, I just came to visit,” she says as she comes closer. “What are these for?”

He senses there’s more to this than just a visit, but he puts it aside for now. “Baa-chan is making chestnut rice tonight. She was going to ask you to come take some back to your house. She always does it in big batches.”

Momo grins. “That’s kind of her.”

Toshiro only shrugs with a huff. Momo’s grin falls into a small, unsure smile. He’s quick to pick up a nut from the tub in front of him, peel the shell off with a small knife, then put it with the others ready for Granny.

“In that case, do you mind if I help?” Momo says. “I can’t let her do that for me and my friends without helping her.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I want to.”

She makes herself comfortable next to him. She takes a spare knife from the tray he’d brought out, then collects several chestnuts from the tub. He opens his mouth, but shut it after she starts peeling. What had he wanted to say? Did he want to tell her to leave? Did he want to ask about the Academy?

Save for the knifes cracking open and peeling the shells, there’s silence between them. In front of her, the day passes, clouds moving across the sky and the sun shining down on the swaying trees and lively Junrinan a short distance away.

After a moment, Momo pauses as she takes another chestnut. In his periphery, she fiddles with it between her hands, as if trying to wring something out of it. She puts the knife to the chestnut, but is slow to peel the shell away.

She nervous, perhaps gearing herself up to say something. He already knows she’s going to Academy, remembers her loud declaration to Granny several weeks ago that was equal parts ecstatic and anxious. He didn’t want to reflect on his behaviour since she announced it, but he knows he’s become more sullen towards her.

Granny chastised more than once him, saying he should be happier for her and congratulate her; but he can’t ignore the tightness in his chest every time he thinks about her leaving. He hates that she had become a annoying and welcomed constant in his live for the last few decades, and even worse, that he had imagined what the future – whether it was the next week or the next year – would be like, and she was there in his imaginings, along with Granny and Jidanbo. Never used to even think about the future, his life had been repetitive until she came along.

After taking off the chestnut’s shell, Momo stops. “Can I ask you something?”

Toshiro continues peeling. “Hm?”

“Even if you don’t become a Shinigami, can we still be friends?”

Toshiro halts. His brows furrow, but he still doesn’t look at her. “What’s with that question?”

“I mean, while I’m at the Academy we won’t be seeing each other too much. And when I become a Shinigami, it’ll be even less. We’re friends, and, um…I want to stay friends, even when we’ve grown up.”

Her voice wavers towards the end, losing what confidence she’d built up to speak to him.

Toshiro blinks down at the chestnut in his hands. Somewhere around them, the leaves rustle in the wind, and a bird chirps and another caws back in response. The last parts of the shell fall away.

“You might be different by then,” he says solemnly, still unable to look at her.

Momo presses her lips into a tight line. “Well, of course. Everyone changes as they grow up. They become more mature and responsible.”

“Not all adults are.”

“Most though.” She drops her chestnut into the peeled pile. “I don’t know how often I’ll be allowed to visit, but I’ll write to you as often as I can.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll be doing your Shinigami stuff, you won’t have time.”

“B-But I want to.”

He finally looks at her. At the hurt that flickers through her eyes, he wants to take it back. She obviously hadn’t expected this coldness from him. Yes, his usual bratiness can make him say some hurtful things on occasion, but this is different for her. This was a side of him she rarely saw, and it’s a side she is never on the end of.

But what’s the use? She’ll go to the Academy and forget about him. She’ll make new, better friends. Ones she can go into the future with and who can understand the struggles and triumphs she’ll experience as a Shinigami.

“Do whatever you want then.”

His comment doesn’t ease the turmoil in her, with her gaze falling off to the side and her shoulders slumping. She’s on the verge of a sob, but she bravely keeps it back. “Are you saying you don’t think we should be friends anymore?”

It’s an opening he should take. He has to start letting her go, so it won’t hurt so much when she turns away, and stops being a part of his future.

“I…I’m not saying that.” He’s weak. “I’m just being realistic. You’ll be busy, you won’t have the time to write to us.”

It’s not the answer she expects. Her eyes widen and her lips part, but she doesn’t speak for several heartbeats. She's stuck between being confused and stunned. “I-I’d make time. Of course I’d make time!”

Her earnestness and fierce determination fracture what little resolve he had left. “Well then, let’s see you try.”

_____________________________

Momo glances at Toshiro from across the meeting hall.

He’d just stepped back into line after reporting on his areas for reconstruction. His division is doing well, ahead of schedule in fact.

Normally the thought would make her happy. He’s always been a hard worker; never for the sake of wanting to one-up another or show off, but because he wanted to do good for others. It was one of her favourite things about him.

But something about him is different. The war against the Quincy and taking in the total devastation it had caused had affected all of them, changing each of them in both subtle and obvious ways.

Toshiro holds himself differently. There’s the usual stoicism on his face, and the straight, pulled back shoulders and slightly raised chin that have been a part of his posture since he became a captain.

It’s his hands. They’re curled in loose fists at his side. Something is on his mind, and whatever it is, it’s causing him to be tense. His gaze shows he’s present, now listening to Mayuri give his report into his latest findings, but there’s something going on in the back of his mind he can’t escape from.

She wishes she could cross the room and take one of his hands.

_____________________________

“Don’t bother coming back, bed-wetter!”

Please come back.

And she must see through him, because her high spirits aren’t dampened as she continues to smile and wave at him. He’ll never understand how she can be so cheerful so often.

Eventually, she has to turn away from him and navigate her way through the growing crowds. After she vanishes and as Granny gently chastises him for his rudeness, he can’t dismiss the thought that haunts him. The same thought that had made him try to disconnect from her weeks ago.

What if she doesn’t?

_____________________________

Momo watches Toshiro ponder over the map of the North districts. Each was outlined in the colour of the division that has jurisdiction over them, Fifth Division’s in turquoise and Tenth Division’s in dark green.

“So we’ll tackle this area together,” Shinji says while drawing his finger along the border between the North districts nineteen and twenty. “It makes sense seeing as our jurisdictions are night next to each other. Also, saves us on costs if you go with shared resources, right?”

Both Toshiro and Rangiku nod.

“Have you brought this up with the Captain Commander yet?” Toshiro asks.

“Not yet. We went to a meeting about…” he lifts his gaze to the ceiling of Tenth Division’s office, trying to recall.

“It’s was a month ago, sir,” Momo quietly offers.

Shinji snaps his fingers. “Yes, thank you, Hinamori! Geez, we’ve been to so many meetings lately I’m getting them confused.”

Toshiro scoffs. Momo tries not to smile in response; it’s the first normal, in-character thing she’s seen him do since they arrived.

“Anyway, at that meeting, the Captain Commander suggested a few ways we can save on costs for the reconstruction efforts, one of which was shared resources. Sure you got told the same whenever you went to you met with him yourselves." Shinji jerks his thumb towards Momo. “My lieutenant here suggested we collaborate on the districts that border with other divisions, like yours.”

Momo can’t help but lift her chin a little at the credit her captain gave her. Sometimes he had a way of making one feel accomplished, even over the smallest things.

Rangiku grins. “It’s a great idea, and not surprised that it came from you, Hina-chan.”

Momo laughs nervously. “Rangiku-san…”

“Stop, you’ll make her overheat,” Shinji teases.

“Sir, honestly!” Momo retorts.

He only laughs, but he eyes Toshiro. So he’d noticed it too. Normally situations like this riled her childhood friend up, made him shout something along the lines of ‘We need to focus right now!’ or simply glare at him. Toshiro’s eyes were on the map, jumping to all the districts under his jurisdiction.

It was barely perceptible, but Momo could see with each district he eyes, a little more weight is added to his shoulders.

Shinji quickly returns things to the business at hand. Several minutes later, her captaina nd Toshiro agree to do reconstruction together.

As Shinji and Rangiku start on a plan, Toshiro stands up rorm the couch. “I’ll go get a pot of tea.”

“Do you need assistance with that?” Momo asked, ready to rise up.

He shakes his head. “No, thank you.”

He leaves while Rangiku and Shinji continue to hash out a plan. His walk would not seem out of the ordinary to most, Momo saw the weight in his shoulders from before, and just as she’d noticed when she first arrived, that he forced himself to stared straight ahead, and not once at her.

___________________________

He regrets every bad thing he’s ever said to her. Every angry exclamation. Every promise or important day he’d forgotten. Every time he scared her for a laugh when they were children. Every tease about her.

He barely manages a landing, his whole body numb with horror. Ice keeps breaking around them. He can hear yelling, but it’s muffled around the ringing in his ears. For the first time in his life, he’s too cold.

She finally stirs, and her hazy, fading eyes stare up at him. He shakes and can barely breathe. He might collapse, but she’s keeping him rigid and frozen in place. She says his nickname, a pierces through him, hitting a part of him that he always associated with first meeting her. The memory of it, the feeling of someone finally looking at him like he wasn’t so different, and letting it warm him into a fleeting sense of security.

“…Why?”

Something in him shatters.

He should’ve been kinder. Why hadn’t he been? Because he’d been a child who didn’t know better when they first met. Because he’d been alone for so long he didn’t know how to interact with others. Because he’d been scared. Because he’d let her in too far. Because he didn’t know a life without her anymore.

____________________________

An evening breeze blows through the streets of the South Second district, swaying the lanterns of restaurants and brushing Momo’s hair over her shoulders. It reminds her she needs to get it cut, but then she had thought of –

“That was a really good meal.”

Momo looks over to Rangiku , who interlaces her fingers and stretches her arms over her head with a grin.

“It was,” Momo says with her own smile. “I’m glad you recommended that place. We should take the other Women’s Association members there sometime.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. I wanted to try it out with you first.” She winks as she lowers her arms. “It’s been a while since we had a girls night out, huh?”

Momo’s smile widens. After recovering from the battle in the Fake Karakura Town and being discharged from Fourth Division, Rangiku had arranged for the two of them to have lunches and dinners together. They’d be casual mostly, chatting about work for only a short while before moving on to longer discussions about their hobbies, who they’d caught up with lately, and there were a few times they’d left wherever they'd eaten from and gone shopping together. Every now and then, particularly in the beginning, their chatter would turn sombre. They’d reflect on what had happened, whether it was Aizen’s betrayal or Gin’s death, and it took some effort to return the conversation back to something lighter.

Momo remembers the look that would come over Rangiku’s face during those moments. As her friend stares ahead into the growing crowds, she can see hints of that old expression. Her eyes are hooded, her eyes take on a glassiness, and she ignores things – like the loud cheering of an izakaya they pass by, or the sprinting children that almost bump into them before dodging off to the side. What was most telling though was Rangiku didn’t comb her fingers through her hair and complain about the wind ruining her hairstyle.

Like Toshiro, something had been bothering her, but unlike him, she seems to be bouncing back from it quicker. Still, she had moments like this where she grew quiet and solemn. It sends a twinge through Momo’s chest. “Can I ask you something, Rangiku-san?”

Her friend blinks and “Hm?”

Momo’s hesitation catches up to her. She’d wanted to ask before she’d come to dinner, but at seeing Rangiku being her usual boisterous and jolly self, the question had faded into the background.

“I was wonder…”

If she asks her now, she can finally know what happened. Of course, it wouldn’t be Rangiku’s place to say what happened to Toshiro…but what if it was the same thing that affected her?

“…I was wonder if you, uh…”

Momo recalls the two of them leaving Twelfth that day over a month ago, and the chances are whatever it was…

“Do you have any style recommendations for my hair? I was thinking of growing it out rather than getting it cut again.”

Without realising, Rangiku had brought them to a stop in the middle of the street. Souls pass around them, some with skeptical or awed looks, others completely ignoring them. The wind dies down, leaving Rangiku hair slightly frizzy. There’s a gentle smile on her lips, and a knowing look briefly comes across her eyes. Had she known what Momo truly wanted to ask?

But she couldn’t bring herself to, not when it occurred to her that asking Rangiku would potentially expose what has been bothering Toshiro too. She didn’t want to put her friend in an uncomfortable position, but with a tightening of her heart, it dawns on her that asking Toshiro would only do the same for Rangiku.

She’d trapped.

“Yeah, I can think of a few,” Rangiku eventually says. "I'll bring some ideas at the next Women's Association."

Momo blinks.

Rangiku had spoken quietly, uncharacteristic given that hair and fashion were topics she often spoke fervently about. Momo manages to take a deep breath in that looks natural enough, and then a small smile. “I thought you would. Thank you.”

____________________________

Come back.

Toshiro pleads it in silence to the night sky on another sleepless night.

He’d known her for so long, had let her become his closest friend. Her being there as they grew older, as they rose up the ranks of the Shinigami and protected the Seireitei, was an inevitability. How naïve he had been. For all of his posturing and talk of responsibilities and knowledge that any of his subordinates could die on missions, she had somehow become the exception.

Somehow, she would live on forever with him.

How can he have clung to such childish ideals?

Come back, he pleads again. I know now. I want things to be different.

_________________________________

Shafts of the sunrise spill into Momo’s room. She sits up before her alarm clock goes off. Rubbing her eyes and lifting the blanket away, she starts her day.

Nerves thrum through her, and no matter what she tells herself or how many times she goes over the plan for today, they don’t settle.

Today is their first day working together with Tenth Division.

After bathing and changing into her uniform, she steps up the mirror to brush her hair. After a few minutes, she takes up her hair clip and clips it in place.

She stares at her reflection, and after a beat, worries her bottom lip. She sighs and lowers her head with tightly shut eyes. How is she going to get through today?

_____________________________

Momo bound up the stairs towards him. Her recently cut hair tousles around her, and she beams widely. She’s obviously dying to tell him something, even shouts his nickname. Perhaps because they’re not in vicinity of his subordinates or the other Captains and Lieutenants, or perhaps because her joy is so often infectious, he chooses not to shout the usual correction at her.

In fact, Toshiro can't help but smile. He’s been doing that more lately.

He decided to be more open, with her first, and eventually with others.

When she stops in front of him and began to gush over a new project she was working on with her division, he has trouble covering up the reaction he has to the relieved, cathartic ache in his heart. Her forgiveness is still raw, even after all these months. Thankfully, she’s so caught up in her excitement she doesn’t see him briefly glance away to regain his composure.

The future was brighter, but the fact there was even a future with her after everything is a blessing all of it’s own.

_____________________________

From a distance, Toshiro orders his and a few of Fifth Division’s officers to do various tasks, and after they disperse, he goes to the next group.

Momo looks back to the map of North District Nineteen and continues outlining the area she and her subordinates will work on. In her periphery, Shinji finishes speaking with Takaya and Katsuro, and makes his way over to Toshiro before he can reach the group.

She tries to ignore the exchange, but her ears unwittingly tune in, catching bits and pieces of their conversation over the shouts of subordinates, sandals crunching in the dirt, and equipment being unloaded from carts. From what she’d (unintentionally) been able to tell, they discuss their findings so far.

She keeps a wince from reaching her face and she recalls their brief meeting this morning. She only gave Toshiro a glance, keeping her eyes either on Rangiku or somewhere behind the two of them. Toshiro retained a stoic exterior, even made a few pointed comments towards Shinji like he did when her captain annoyed him, but that heaviness in his shoulders and eyes is still there. She wishes she could just wave it away, like the wind pushing the clouds across the sky overhead.

It had been over a month since the war ended. He hasn’t said anything to her, and she can’t tell of it’s because of the work they’ve had to do or because he doesn’t want to. Was he concerned for Rangiku? Was it something he didn’t think she’d understand? Would it hurt her?

She shakes her head. She repeatedly tries to tell herself it’s none of her business, but her concern and burgeoning frustration doesn’t waver. Both grow when she can sense, for only several seconds, his gaze on the side of her face.

_____________________________

He doesn’t recall anything of his time as a ‘zombie’ to the Quincy, nor does he want to.

The last thing he remembered was collapsing, his ice shattering around him. Time slowed, as in that moment he thought about how this could be the end. It certainly felt like it was. He was so weak, so very tired and hurting, but he was still awake when the shadow fell over him.

However, the old cliché he’d been told about didn’t happen. He didn’t think on or remember his past. He didn’t despair that he was dying.

He'd thought about Rangiku, dying below, with no one to help her.

He'd thought about his subordinates, who would be without a captain again.

As a darkness began to settle around the edges of his blurred vision, he thought about Momo. He’d sensed her before, she’d been far away from where he was. She reiatsu had been strong, she was all right.

He didn’t need to protect her. Yet he still wanted to see her. For the last few seconds before the darkness took over and muffled footsteps and a sickly sweet voice reach his ears, he thought about the fact he won’t be there in her future.

His next memory is of being put in the recovery tanks along with Rangiku. At the time he’d been exhausted from the procedure Mayuri had made him endure – he vaguely recalls Mayuri half sarcastically marveling, “I’m quite surprised you’re conscious right now.”

He was lifted and secured into the tank by Nemu. Mayuri had watched him, and didn’t approach until Nemu stepped aside. He’d spoken at him, but Toshiro wavered between consciousness and falling into a warmer darkness and only caught sections of his sentences.

“The tank will complete the de-zombification…Consider yourself…Lieutenant is…My procedure took…years off your lifespan, but…we’ll take you to the Palace, no doubt you will…”

And the tank lid had lowered as Toshiro bowed his head. As he drifted into unconsciousness, his mind clung to one part of what Mayuri had said.

My procedure took…years off your lifespan…

He vaguely remembered thinking he must have misheard.

He hadn't focused on it when he awoke again and left the tank, choosing instead to thank Mayuri and rush off into the fray with Rangiku. She surely heard too, but he'd kept quiet about it. He’d been truly grateful and yet, that piece of information, it lingered quietly in the back of his mind.

He’d focused on the fight against the Giant Quincy, and had to resort to using Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form. He thought only of battle strategies and ways to keep his enemy distracted from either destroying the Soul Society below or from causing further harm to those still in the area.

It's now hours after the Quincy had evaporated away, and he and Byakuya found Momo and Shinji, safe.

She's been clearly startled by his appearance. He didn't know what to expect, had never really thought about her reaction to seeing him like this, but he dislikes her being so confused and unsure. Certain there's no immediate danger in their vicinity and with Byakuya scouting the area, takes her aside to explain the Completed Form.

Shock turns recognition, and then finally to relief. He can't help but feel she same moments later when he's transformed back and she heals his injuries. It's only a few minutes later when Mayuri’s words fully hit him. From then on, he can barely look her in the eye.

_____________________________

The setting sun halos Toshiro's hair, and his shadow casts long over the rubble. He stands alone, arm folded and back facing those a short distance away, clearly lost in thought.

In different circumstances, it would’ve posed as quite the striking image for Momo; one she would be tempted to capture in either her drawings or as a photo on her denreishiki.

His subordinates walk around her, gathering up the materials and equipment they’d used. She didn’t have to interact with him at all today, and even if she did, she’s not sure how she would go about it.

Somewhere behind her, Shinji calls out for officers to help with lifting some of the ruins into carts to be cleared off. She turns to go and assist, but its hard to take her eyes off her friend. The turmoil from earlier arises. She can’t ask him what's wrong, and he won’t even look at her unless she doesn't notice. Still, she can’t leave him as is.

With a deep breath in, and then out, she walks to him.

Her steps crunch from the smaller pieces of rubble and dirt, and alert him to her approach. He half twists around to her, and it causes her to stop more than an arms length away.

“I was wondering…” She hadn’t thought about what to say. But with a light snort, she manages. “Sorry, I was wondering if you had any further plans for Higuchi-san or Takagaki-san. We need some help with clearing the wreckage into the carts.”

Toshiro blinks, as if coming out of deep thought. With a small shake of his head, he turns back to the sunset. “No, I have nothing for them. Their performance was good, if you need to know.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll be sure to tell my Captain. They’re both hard workers, so that isn’t too surprising to hear.”

“I sent them with Narita to set up the rations for distribution. They should be finished by now.”

Momo swallows against the growing tightness in her throat. She gives a nod, not trusting her words, and only lingers for a few seconds more before turning to go. She wants to kick herself for not coming up with something better, something that would make her stay with him a bit longer and force him to talk with her.

She’s taken ten steps when Toshiro calls to her.

“Wait, Hinamori.”

She looks over her shoulder, squinting against the setting sun. She can’t make out his expression, but his arms now rest at his sides, and his shoulders are higher, straighter. There’s a resoluteness there, but somehow also a reluctance.

He approaches her, but stops after a few steps. He speaks lowly, and it’s hard to make out what he says. She has no choice but to come closer.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said, Captain.”

The corners of his mouth fall and tighten into a scowl – not directed at her, she’s certain.

“When we’re done here, I want to discuss something with you,” he repeats. “I assume you don’t have time for today so I –”

“I do!” Momo would normally balk at her boldness – especially for interrupting someone, let alone a Captain. But it was if she’d been holding her breath on the brink of passing out, and now she was desperate to get air. “I-I’ll have time after we’re done here. We can talk.”

Toshiro had been surprised, but shifts his expression back to neutral. “It won’t take long. Let’s load those carts first and get back to Tenth Division.”

He walks past her, and for a moment, it's as if the heaviness within him lingers over her. Whatever this would be, she's both eager and dreading to know.

____________________________

“How long do Souls live for?”

Toshiro rolls his eyes. Ever since she got here, Momo had been full of questions. She’s more curious than the average Soul, wanting to know every little detail about her new world she called home. Just a few minutes ago she’d asked a range of questions about what rules she needs to follow she didn’t end up in trouble – as he answered her, it reminded him of telling Jidanbo the Rules of City for the first time.

Before he answers her current question, he kicks a small hill of snow just in front of them, sending a white spray into the care tree they stood under. “It depends. Some live for a few decades, others live for thousands of years.”

Over the many layers she wore up to her the bottom half of her face, Momo’s eyes widened in wonder. “Really? That’s such a long time.”

“Not to them,” he says. “Time here is different to the World of Living, or so I’ve heard.”

“Thousands of years…you can do so much in that time!”

She starts listing off various activities and adventures one could do for over a thousand years, all the while her eyes shone, and when a scarf loosened from around her face, it revealed her wide grin.

He doesn’t understand her glee. Was this something specific to Souls that came from the World of the Living? Humans lived far shorter lives than Souls; perhaps the idea of being able to live that long appealed to them. He’d been born in the Junrinan, he knew only this world, and from what Granny had told him, ten years here likely felt like a year in the World of the Living.

He let’s her go on and on with her list, but when she comes to an end, breathless, she says, “Do Souls know how long they’ll live for?”

He lets out a bewildered snort. “Of course not!”

“Oh…” That dampens her enthusiasm, as if he’d popped a bubble. Before he can feel any guilt, she turns her attention back to the silhouette of the Seireitei in the distance. “So, I guess this means the Shinigami in there have been alive for a long time then.”

He shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

It’s several heart beats later when her grin returns, but there’s a softness to it. “I hope we get to live for over a thousand years.”

He’s taken aback. We? Why 'we'? Why not ‘I’?

He wants to ask, but fears he’ll embarrass himself. So instead, he ponders on it in silence as she continues to admire the Seireitei’s silhouette. Did she mean it as a friend? That she saw them being in the future together?

Granny had been the only person who saw a future with him, planning their days with what items he’d have to go out and buy and what shrines or places they needed to visit together in the coming month.

Something about another seeing him in their future made bite the inside of his lip against the painful pang in his chest. Somehow, though, it also made him happy.

“What if we did?”

He hadn’t realised he’d asked the question aloud until Momo swivels her head back to him. “Hm?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“You mean if we live for over a thousand years?” He cringes inwardly as she considers. Her grin widens after a beat. “We’d have a lot to do, I’m sure of it!”

____________________________

Momo stares mutely at Toshiro, and then at some point, through him, and then into nothing. He shifts his gaze to the side, staring hard at the corner of the training room.

Just behind them, Fifth and Tenth Division officers shared a meal together in one of Tenth Division’s courtyards around a fire, chattering and laughing amongst themselves. Even in her shock, Momo ended up hearing her captain laugh loudly at one of his own jokes, but she can’t bring herself to smile or cringe.

She and Toshiro sit by the training room's entrance, mostly in the shadows. A strip of moonlight comes between them through the doorway, falling over his left foot and her folded knees. He sits half against the wall, his left knee bent and his arms resting in his lap. It would appear to some as the most relaxed he’s ever looked, but this is one of the few times she’s seen him look resigned.

He’d just recounted to her how a Quincy had taken control over him with her blood, and then how Mayuri had restored him. It had all made sense up until that point, but not what he’d just said. No, it was more like she didn’t want the sentence to be true, refused to let it be a part of what he'd already said.

She brings her gaze back to him as a small tremor runs through her hands. “I don’t understand,” she struggles to say. “What do you mean? How can you live for only three hundred more years?”

She thinks he won’t answer her, too overcome by whatever emotions rush through him. However, he takes a sharp breath in, but continues to stare off to the side. “Kurotsuchi says that’s at most, but it’s at least one hundred and fifty years. The procedure he used on me was crude by his standards, something he cobbled together while we were battling the Quincy. As a result of that and what the Quincy did to me, my lifespan has been reduced.”

“You’ve acting differently lately --” her voice catches, and her vision becomes misty “-- now I understand why.”

A quiet, strangled sound comes from Toshiro. “Matsumoto thought it was best to tell you.”

And it’s all the confirmation she needs that Rangiku is facing the same tragedy. She must have seen Momo’s dilemma that night they ate out, and decided to make things easier by encouraging Toshiro to tell her. She could cry for that alone, but she won’t; she’ll speak with her later.

She bows over, fisted hands bunching her uniform at the knees. “I-I don’t know what to say,” she laments. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

That strikes something within him. He shifts, his back fully pressing against the wall and moving his foot out of the moonlight. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and she can make out the furrow in his brow twitching and the corner of his mouth dropping into a grimace.

His gaze goes to the ceiling. “I didn’t want to say anything,” he admits. “There’s nothing I can do.”

The catch in his voice is enough to make her move over to him, coming to sit next to him, their shoulders grazing and her knee bumping up against his. She rarely sits so close to him, feeling they should maintain a small distance between them, but this felt right. And judging from his lack of comment or shrugging away, he thinks the same.

“I’m sorry for what I said at the Palace.”

He blinks and finally looks at her. “What?”

She can’t help but be a little relieved he’d forgotten her comment, but winced at having to bring it up now. “I said Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form was a glimpse into the future. How careless of me.”

He shakes his head, but still doesn’t seem to remember. “It’s fine, you weren’t to know.”

“Even so, I should have been more considerate. That form is part of your zanpakuto, not something to be joked about.”

“You were shocked by it, and we’d come out of a battle and Yhwach was defeated, it’s understandable.”

She considers, and then admits, “And we were really tired, I guess.”

That gets a huff of a humoured snort out of him, but it doesn’t reach his eyes or shape his into a faint smile.

The urge to hold his hand comes over her again. Unlike that meeting from a few weeks ago, she doesn’t resist it this time. She takes the one closest to her. It’s the one that been regrown with hojiku-zai, the original lost on the battlefield at the Fake Karkura Town. She doesn’t hold his conventionally, choosing instead to lay her hand on the underside, and her fingers loosely come between his.

She watches him tilts his head down, staring at their hands. Something soft flits over his face, something akin to being pleasantly surprised.

For not the first time, she thinks on how she never imagined all those decades ago he would lose and replace a hand. Just as she’d never imagined what they went through because of Aizen, or the battles they fought against Hollows and Quincy, or the people they’ve lost under their watch. They’d been through so much, perhaps too much for Souls their ages.

Despite the time and effort it will take to rebuild the Soul Society, she had been thinking that peace was finally going to be restored. She was going to be happy again, with her friends and subordinates. She was going to ask Toshiro out to lunches more often, and finally sit with whatever her feelings for him were. The ones she’s can’t put a name too, but feels she’s just on cusp of doing.

Had he thought about these sort of things too? About what he had been through and the future he may not have anymore? If that was the case, it’s no wonder he didn’t want to bring it up. It’s enough for one of her tears to roll out the side of her eye.

She’s quick to wipe it with her free hand, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Toshiro.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps.

She shakes her head. “Why are you apologising? You didn’t ask for any of this.”

“No, it’s not that. I didn't want to...”

He hesitates, and when he doesn’t continue, Momo finishes it for him. "Hurt me?"

He blinks, surprised she had guessed the rest. It still astounds her that he can't see the good within himself, but always in others.

"You don't need to apologise. When I saw something was bothering you, I wanted to know."

She senses there's more, a second apology he wants to make. When he doesn't, she stares straight ahead.

“We Shinigami are taught and prepared to die in battle for Humans and our friends,” she continues. “If we’re lucky, we can reach an old age with our accomplishments. Thinking about how long we'll live for is not something we're supposed to contemplate, our focus is on our duties and responsibilities. Even so, we’re not meant to die like this. You’re not meant to --”

He snorts again, and the faintest, saddest smile shapes his lips. “You’re not Reio, Hinamori,” he says, and she can imagine in another setting it would be a tease. “And even if you were, you doubt you would have the power to change this. I have accepted it's a likely possibility, and I will plan ahead accordingly. I never thought about how long I would live for --" his shoulders deflate with a shaky breath "-- and I shouldn't."

"Nothing is set in stone," she says, fiercely.

She’s always considered herself an optimist, perhaps to a fault. She remembers being more hopeful for the future when she was younger. Maybe that’s what came with growing up, you lose a little bit of hope every year, and cling to what still remains – foolishly, she suspects some think, but not her.

With a thick swallow, she lists her head up to the ceiling. “You said before that Captain Kurotsuchi was working on a way to restore your lifespan, right?”

“Yes.”

She mirrors the faint smile he'd had moments ago, but in her misty eyes there’s something less fragile. She tightens her grip on his hand. “Then let’s hope he does.”

It doesn’t dissolve his grief and cynicism -- she knows he hates leaving something he feels responsible for in the hands of others, and she can’t imagine what it must feel like to put your life in the hands of Twelfth Division’s captain. She has not words she can offer to console him or give him a new perspective of this. She has her own emotions to deal with too, ones of helplessness and a flickering hope, small but bright.

Her heart throbs when he flips his hand around and interlaces his fingers between hers in a tight grip. It's all they can do for now as a cloud passes over the moon and the laughter continues outside.

#hitsuhina #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #rangiku matsumoto #shinji hirako #bleach #fanfiction #angst #spoiler for the ending: I didn't intend it to be so bittersweet at the end (with an slight emphasis on the bitter)#but after a while it felt like the right note to end on #I may write up a small follow up that's most fluffy and shows Toshiro's determination to make the most of his life #whether that's in the short time he has or the thousand+ years he may get back once Mayuri comes up with something #because I am 100% certain he has tome to terms with it once the ten year timeskip has gone by #he doesn't like it of course but he has accepted it #and also write a follow up to explain what that 'second apology' was...👀#unless you were able to guess it in which case woo!

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