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ryomaunnie · 1 year

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Here's my entry for the @hitsuhina-week exchange! It didnt exactly get to where I wanted to go with the fic, but I hope you like it @mercurialwitch !

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After the battle against the Quincys, Momo Hinamori started having nightmares from time to time. At first she didn't exactly worry, as she sometimes still had them from Fake Karakura.

Her new dreams sampled a lot from the latest war. She still felt the rubble on her body, the blood hot on her face, her Captain unconscious over her shoulders and a cold presence over her head. A cold so menacing that would make even the strongest soldier quiver, but not her. Toshiro's coldness was something that had never scared her, his stoic way of being was so familiar that it had become a home.

A home she had taken for granted.

It had taken time, understanding Aizen's betrayal and healing her broken and confused heart. She had worked hard to get better. She had help along the way. Her friends were real, patient and kind. Rangiku had kept her updated on Toshiro. Oh, Toshiro. He was busy training to perfect his bankai. He didn't mention anything because he didn't want to worry her. Momo tried to respect his wishes and watch him from afar.

But she also see that he was tired. Stubborn Shiro had always been like that, pushing and pushing until he did better and then trying to hide it and make it seem like it was effortless. It pained her that he hid his suffering, especially from her. They used to know each other inside out, barriers only on appearance. She could see past his frown and he could see past her smile. She could see that he was not really angry and he could see that she was not really cheerful. Aizen had tried breaking that and for a while, she walked closely along to the fine line between loyalty and blindness. But even in her worst moment, her blatant disbelief in Shiro's supposed betrayal to Soul Society made her question what the man had written. She had to balance what was her duty with her heart and it became impossible to fall into a side.

She knew Shiro had worried to insanity until she got better. And when she got better, he never stopped worrying.

Momo knew that he followed her recovery closely and that made her want to recover faster. While healing she started training again until she was confident enough in her abilities to use them once more and when she did, she continued training to perfect them. Knowing Toshiro was giving his body and soul to get better motivated her and gave her strength to continue.

However, there was something in all these experiences that kept her uneasy. The restlessness had become so evident on her that even laidback Captain Hirako looked at her funny.

So that night she had decided to do something about it. She had decided to reach out to her refuge, to the person who had constantly stayed by her side, no matter what the circumstances may be. While walking, she reflected on her best friend. She didn't want to be a bother. It was late.

But she needed to see him.

She needed to talk to him.

The small lieutenant reached Toshiro's private quarters and knocked down. Maybe it was better to go back. He valued sleep time and here she was disturbing it and for what? Some nightmares? Was she a little child? What about…

-Hinamori?

Momo looked up. There he was, surprised, hair down and sleep robes. Clearly just awoken.

-Oh! Shiro! Eh…sorry I woke you up, I… if it's not too much…can I enter?

Toshiro stared at her and waited. After a minute, he reacted and stepped aside quietly, nodding his head in welcome.

-What do you want at this hour? I can't help you if you wet the bed, we are not kids anymore.

Momo stayed silent. She looked down - I'm having nightmares again. Can we talk?

The boy frowned and sighed- I'll brew tea. Sit down.

She smiled weakly but relieved that he wasn't upset. Sitting down, she watched him make tea and thanked inwards for his patience.

-So? If you're here, you want to talk.

The girl looked up, wide-eyed - Sorry Shiro. I haven't been sleeping well… I just… needed company. Do you mind?

Toshiro crossed his arms and looked over her -It's fine. You should worry more about yourself. Your eyebags are showing again.

Momo drank and stared at the cup - I know - she said - I guess I'm still thinking about the war. About captain Hirako. About surviving - she stilled - About what would have happened if you collapsed after your bankai.

He frowned even more - Do you doubt my strength? I trained hard, you know.

-I know that -she looked him in the eye - I just can't stop worrying about what would have happened. What… what I would do if… how I'd react… I don't know if I could stand going through it.

-You'd be fine. You have survived through worse.

The girl shook her head quickly - I don't think so. I can't even begin to imagine… I see it every night and I can't stand it. You are very important to me, Shiro.

-Don't call me that, bed-wetter.

Momo snapped -I'm serious!

-I know. You… are important to me too, Hinamori. You have nightmares now but they'll go away, you are stronger than you think. Hirako told me you have been training.

-I have. Can't train these thoughts away, but I'm trying. I have been trying for a long time. I'm walking the path I longed for and I know you have been making a lot of effort too.- she finished her tea and set down the cup - Thank you. For being there for me, always.

Hitsugaya raised from his place and walked over to the open closet to take another futon and set it over, close to his.

-Let's catch up on sleep, come on.

Momo followed the white-haired boy, sat down and smiled at him - Toshiro.

He looked over at her and she smiled wider.

-Mhn?

-I'm not going to have bad dreams now. I'm never scared by your side, I know you'll always have my back.

Hitsugaya's mouth turned upwards just a bit and they locked eyes - Always - he slipped under the covers - Good night, Momo.

-Good night Shiro!

-...don't call me that.

-Sorry, Hitsugaya.

—-------------------

-Shiro?

-Mhn.

-Tomorrow can we go together to the wedding?

-We age going the same way, it's obvious we're going together.

-I know. But… You know.

-Yeah… let's go together.

Momo sighed happily - Yes!

—--------------------

-Are you ready? We're going to be late, bed-wetter.

-Almost! And stop that! I don't wet the bed anymore! I think I proved that by now!

Toshiro protested silently. She still has problems being on time, and now he got caught in it. Bah! He crossed his legs and waited.

-Ready to go!

He glanced at her and stilled. She was beautiful. Standing up, he closed his eyes and sighed - Well, let's go.

Momo caught up with him and grabbed his arm.

-Oi!- he said, embarrassed

-You look nice- she smiled brightly

Toshiro blushed and offered his arm for her to grab -Here, you are going to fall with those shoes so hold on.

-Yes!

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-They look lovely, don't you think?

-Mnh.

-I would like to look like that on my wedding day.

Toshiro stood silent while they got in position to start the ceremony. While it progressed, Momo continued to hold his arm so he looked at her. He hadn't noticed, doing it out of habit. He looked back and the ceremony has reached the bonding. Ah. He looked back at her. Yes, Momo was crying. He smiled a little smile and stood tall, but relaxed, as the person who motivated his own progress cried, finally out of happiness. Toshiro looked back at the marrying couple and continued smiling softly, barely seen.

-Mnh?

Momo stopped watching her friends and looked over at Toshiro, who again looked back at her.

-...Shiro...- Between her joyful tears, she understood. And she smiled wider than ever. Yes, they would have each other, as long as they fought together. For eternity.

They held hands tightly against Toshiro's chest.

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As they approach the newlyweds to congratulate them, they notice the couple tense.

-Congratulations on your marriage Renji! You look beautiful Rukia!- Momo said, then looking over Toshiro's features softly- The ceremony was very emotional for us.

-Ch! Talk about yourself - calmly, without letting go of her arm, he crossed the other one and enclosed her hand with his with boldly- Congratulations to you both.-

-Don't be mean Shiro! I wish my own ceremony to be as nice as theirs!

-Shiro?

Renji and Rukia stilled. They knew Momo was close to the small captain and surely her being familiar with him and seemingly about to marry his brother... They looked at each other and smiled, Renji regarding his friend kindly.

-Well, I'm sure your wedding to Captain Hitsugaya's brother will be as lovely as can be, Momo.

Rukia excitedly added - Yes! We will help in any way we can! Anything for you and Captain Hitsugaya's older brother!

Momo looked confused and Toshiro frowned even more - What are you talking about?

The Abarais froze. What? But they had seen him! And Momo always mentioned that she was much better thanks to Hitsu...

-Aaah...! That time you meant the Captain was helping you! Forgive me Sir, I don't want to create discord among you and your brother!

Toshiro frowned even more, if possible- Abarai, I don't have any siblings.

- But...! Against Gerard! We saw him! We even greeted him! He looked very intimidating!

Momo laughed softly -Guys! That wasn't Shiro's brother! It's Shiro's bankai!

-Eh?

All was well.

#hitsuhina #tōshirō hitsugaya #momo hinamori #bleach #toshiro x momo #hitsugaya x hinamori

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hinakawauso · 1 year

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the ice will melt, the heart will cry

the heart will warm, the tears will shed

everything will change, and my dear will come back

P. S It's a gift for my dear Cat (@\catrock on twitter) and the work of year

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ginjaanimeloversstuff · 2 years

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Kami Hitsugaya- twin of Sumiko, momo's and Toshiro's son

#momo toshiro #hitsuhina child #hitsuhina #toshiro hitsugaya #momo x toshiro #toshiro x momo

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marladhynnr · 4 months

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Bleach x Spirited away

@canariie you were right, Chihiro and Haku match them just perfect. Also Rangiku with Lin lol

This idea just blow my mind so I had to do these edits as well, hope you enjoy it <3

#hitsuhina #bleach #hitsugaya #hitsugaya toushiro #hinamori momo #hitsumomo #hinamori #toshiro hitsugaya #bleach tybw #ghibli #studio ghibli #ghibliedit #rangiku matsumoto #matsumoto #hitsugaya toshiro #hitsugaya x hinamori #momo hinamori

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greyskyflowers · 3 months

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Ichigo has horrible nightmares, because I refuse to believe that he doesn't, and insomnia.

Most of the time he just gets up for the rest of the night, goes to train or on runs to try to burn off the anxious energy.

If they're bad enough, or he's at the point where if he doesn't sleep then he going to pass out, he develops a habit of goes finding certain people.

The nightmares leave him a little frazzled, mind messy from lack of sleep and fear. They leave him a little more vulnerable, a little less self conscious of getting comfort because he may shake out of his skin if he doesn't settle down. Sometimes he does things without realizing it, fight or flight kicking in along side unsettled hollow instincts, and he's off to find somewhere he feels safe and can sleep.

In the human world, he'll sneak in to find Kisuke. Right, sneak, like anyone in that building doesn't know he's there.

Sometimes Kisuke's in his labs so Ichigo just sits down outside the door, just enough out of the way to not trip anyone, back to the wall and arms crossed over them to rest his head on.

It soothes the vulnerable feeling, the sharp edge of terror in his chest. He trusts Kisuke to sense a threat and respond to it. He also likes the feeling of his reiatsu, cool like river stones and soothing like summer rain.

If Kisuke is busy or out, then he'll find a spot where he feels close enough to Tessai or Yoruichi to grasp at them for comfort.

They're all great about it.

Yoruichi will come and curl up next to him, her reiatsu brushing against his skin like fur, soft and warm. She purrs until the panic doesn't itch under his skin so badly. He's woken up to blankets pulled over him and sometimes a pillow between him and the wall.

The true problems arise whenever he stays in soul society.

No one says anything but he knows they can all tell when he has a nightmare, his reiatsu reacting to his fear and discomfort. Between the nightmares and the fear of waking everyone up, he's too anxious to sleep.

It's the 4th night with no sleep and he's restless, eyes burning and head reeling. It's familiarity that has him walking mindlessly until he finds Shinji's office. He slips in and ignores the sharp gaze immediately on him. This isn't new, he did this a few times while training with them.

He sits down in the far corner, back to the wall and facing the door. He draws his legs and rests his head on them. He already feels better, sleep creeping up on him fast.

All the visored have a eerie quality to their reiatsu but Ichigo likes it, especially like this. The sun warmed and soft sandy feeling of Shinji's reiatsu covering him is enough for him to sleep.

Shinji might be the only one beside Kisuke that Ichigo breaks his distance rule for. It's easier for everyone if they keep acknowledgement to a minimum when Ichigo seeks them out in the night. They've had years, centuries some of them, to make their peace with what they've seen and done. Ichigo has not. It's a topic they all avoid, pretending that not talking about it makes it go away.

He's a little touch starved, he'll admit it. He doesn't get much contact that isn't fighting, or that isn't meant to hurt or teach.

The clawing urge to be safe eats at him, especially at night. It won't let him rest, keeps him awake with anxious thoughts or wakes him up with fear.

Very, very few things would willing take on Kisuke Urahara or Shinji Hirako, even if the prize was Ichigo.

So getting a little more personal is common with them. He sits a little closer, holds on a little tighter, visits them a little more. The pressure of their reiatsu feels like a weighted blanket.

He also find others he trusts for those nights.

He's goes to Kensei and ignores Shuhei's questioning and semi concerned look.

Kensei complains about having too many people in his office, Mashiro sticks her tongue out at him and Shuhei looks genuinely ruffled at the comment, but he doesn't turn Ichigo away.

He won't, wouldn't.

Kensei's reiatsu reminds him of swaying bamboo leaves and splotches of sunlight through tree branches, Mashiro's is tall grass and wildflowers, and Shuhei's is heavy but comforting.

Ichigo wakes up to Mashiro snoring on one shoulder, the side between him and the door, Shuhei is asleep on the other.

He also goes to Rose, who doesn't seem surprised to see him either.

Kira usually sits in the office too, a familiar restlessness and unease to him that Ichigo recognized in himself. They sit next to each other and it's nice to have the warmth of someone next to him.

He relaxes and can almost hear Rose's reiatsu humming, Kira's a gentle rain storm at his side.

There's a simmering fury that burns hot in the Visored everytime Ichigo comes to them, exhausted and anxious, and joins lieutenants already there for the same reasons.

Aizen left a mark on the younger ones, dark circles under their eyes and nightmares a constant battle.

Ichigo does well with them though. He sits quietly with Kira, sometimes they talk in low voice until they end up slumped against each other. He usually ends up between Mashiro and Shuhei, all of them falling asleep in a mess of limbs. He's unsure with Momo, a lot of people are, but she's growing to like him and it won't be long before they start talking. It doesn't hurt that Tōshirō thinks highly of Ichigo.

Tōshirō just waves him to the corner, in the middle of arguing with Rangiku and eventually kicking her out for the night. He's quiet as he goes back to work and the room is almost chilly, but it feels good against Ichigo's flushed skin. Tōshirō pauses a few times like he wants to say something, the words almost spilling out of his mouth, but he doesn't. He resumes working and Ichigo falls asleep to a snowstorm. Rangiku wakes him up in the morning with a smile and the smell of smoke and embers.

The 11th is... unexpected. It's the worst nightmare he's had in a while and stumbling out in a panic had brought him here. Maybe because nothing was stupid enough to come looking for a fight with Kenpachi and his men. That longing for safe eventually made the decision for him and he sat on the far edges of the division, hidden by the shadows. He knows that anyone awake would know he was there and sure enough, Yumichika comes around the corner and raises an eyebrow at him while Ikkaku looks over his shoulder. Ichigo just curls in a little tighter and watches them, waiting for them to kick him out or laugh. They don't do either. Yumichika just sighs and says something to Ikkaku and they sit down further down the walkway. They don't look at him, looking away or even closing their eyes. The tension slowly leaves, and it's hard to stay awake as he relaxes. The reiatsu that rolls over him smells like iron and he can vaguely tell where Kenpachi is, his reiatsu twisting and cracking like lightning.

He wakes up with just enough time to sneak out, hovering in front of Yumichika and Ikkaku hesitantly, only taking off when Kenpachi start howling about a fight.

They're laughing as he runs off.

Byakuya almost doesn't allow it, but Ichigo must look as bad as he feels because he only gets observed for a minute before he's ignored again. It's the only sign he gets that he won't get kicked out and it makes him hesitant at the door before slinking into the far corner and getting comfortable. He falls asleep to flowers and the cool warmth of spring cautiously grazing his skin. He wakes up to the smell of cold steel and the feel of scale and furs. Renji and Rukia sit beside him, waiting for him to wake up.

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Do I go back and forth between Ichigo being everyone's secret crush or their collectively adopted, traumatized human? Yes, and everything/anything in between.

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snowflakeanimelover · 2 years

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Hello! Could you do a Oneshot of yandere Aizen—Bleach x GN reader x Hinamori? Or will this be quite spoiler-ish? Reader found out his betrayal plan and tries to watch out for Hinamori while leading her away from danger since reader have become close to her. But the reader instead got caught up in his plan. If that's not allowed, may I try to submit another different request? Thanks!

I can certainly try! If it’s spoilers, I can just put that in the warnings :) I wasn't given very much detail for certain things so I just winged it. I hope you like it!

Relationship: Sosuke Aizen x Gender Neutral Reader

Fandom: Bleach

Warnings: YANDERE, Spoilers :0, friendship, obsession, Aizen being a creep, so is Ichimaru

— — — —

Unknown Fate

You knew exactly how this would play out. Hinamori is such a kind-hearted person. She connects with almost everyone around her, especially with her captain. And with her as your friend, you couldn’t risk his plan to ruin her.

You somehow found out about his plan. And he clearly tried his hardest to keep it a secret from everyone in the Soul Society. But, you had a feeling that he knew you knew of his plan. Even before, his infatuation with you was scarred in your brain. The way he would find a way to talk to you always anytime of the day. His hands lightly touch your shoulder, waist, arms, or neck almost every time he talks to you. You once respected Sosuke Aizen, the captain of the fifth division. That is, until he started getting too close to me. Hinamori was his Lieutenant and she, as well, respected him. Although you didn’t know the major details of his plan, you knew that what he was planning was certainly not expected.

One morning, his body was found speared high on a building wall. Found by none other than his Lieutenant. She screamed so loud, you could hear it a few miles away. You found her being taken away, along with Izuru, to be locked up. Hitsugaya explained to you what happened and told you to keep her calm. You agreed without hesitation.

“I-I don’t understand….” She sobbed, clutching onto your clothes. You sat with her in the cell, holding her in your arms as she cried.

You patted her shoulder gently, helping her cope with this new information. Of course, you couldn’t tell her about this plan of Aizen’s. His death was a surprise, but you knew that he was still alive. All you knew was that he was going to manipulate Hinamori, and you had to protect her.

— — —

“A spell?” You asked the tenth captain. You held a tray of food for your friend, but found Hitsugaya standing by her cell. His eyes held sadness as he watched over her sleeping form. He told you she broke out in the middle of the night, attacking him and accusing him of killing her captain. You apologized for not keeping a close eye on her like he told you to. Your friend seemed to do something when you’re gone for only a few minutes. Although you wished to watch over her as much as you could, some alone time would be nice.

Hitsugaya forgave me for my accident of leaving her alone. “It’s a spell to protect her. Strong on the outside…”

“But weak on the inside. Right.” You remembered learning about the spell in the academy.

He nodded, now turning away to go back to business. “If anything happens, get me.” He ordered before leaving you alone.

— — —

The next night, you find Hinamori still sleeping soundly on the cell floor. With a small sigh, you decided to sit on the floor to watch over her. But just as your bottom touches the wooden floor, a figure pops up in the corner of your eye. With quick speed, your eyes meet captain Ichimaru’s. His usual wicked grin seemed to get wider. You stand up quickly, preparing for anything because you know he’s also part of Aizen’s plan.

You decided to speak up, not afraid of holding it in anymore. “What are you planning?” Your eyebrows knit together in concentration. His only response was a chuckle. So low, it sent shivers down your spine. You were starting to get frustrated. “Where is he?!”

“You're helping him, you know?” His voice shook you to the core. “In a matter of time, he’ll get what he wants.”

Your hand reaches to your weapon, but a certain loud sound stops you from attacking the enemy. Looking back, your vision is covered by a large amount of dust circling in the air, unable to see Hinamori’s cell. In seconds, a shadow emerges from the dust cloud, now trampling you to the ground. With a struggle gap from the impact, you try to process who attacked you.

“H-Hinamori?!” You call out in shock.

Your friend had anger clear on her face, her weapon placed right over your throat as she stood over you. She was angry, but tears streamed down her cheeks. “W-Where is he?! (Y/N)...you’ve been helping him, right? Where is he!” Her weapon inches closer, now poking your skin.

“W-wait! Hinamori! I’m not helping him! He’s p-planning something, and I don’t know where he is!” Your words didn’t seem to faze her. You look behind you, where Ichimaru stood. To your dismay, he wasn’t there. “Ichimaru!” You screamed, pushing Hinamori off to catch the enemy.

As you ran, your friend was chasing you, clearly intending to hurt you as she cried and angrily yelled for you to tell her where her captain was.

If I find Aizen, then I can prove to her what a bastard of a liar he is, you thought. You catch the white haired captain walking into a building. A building you recognize as Central 46. Normal soul reapers, like you, aren’t allowed in the building. But you didn’t care about the rules at the moment. Your top priority was to get Aizen.

You entered the building, with Hinamori in tow, and followed Ichimaru further in. You were right to find Aizen during your chase. But deep down, you knew this was some kind of trap. Behind you, all of Hinamori’s anger flew away when her eyes landed on her former captain.

More tears streamed down when she dropped her weapon, slowly walking towards him. “C-Captain Aizen…”She cries in happiness.

“No! Hinamori!” I try to stop her. Ichimaru’s arms wrap around my form, contemporarily stopping me from doing so.

When Aizen hugs her, your eyes widen in shock when his sword goes through her body, blood flying to the floor of where she stood. Her limp body falls to the ground, her eyes wide open in shock. No words were coming out of her mouth.

“Momo!” I scream, struggling out of Ichimaru’s grasp.

“Let her go, Gin.” Aizen’s smooth voice echoes through the room.

When the captain followed his orders, your knees hit the floor beside Hinamori. Your hands are shaking her in desperation. “M-Momo… wake up!” Your eyes drift to Aizen. He was smiling down at you from where he stood. “What did you do?! She…she respected you!”

His long fingers gracefully capture your chin, thumb rubbing small circles in your skin. “Don’t you see? It was you who led her here.” He speaks.

“B-but…I wanted-”

He shushes you, a smile growing on his lips. “You were all a part of my plan. You are all that I needed left to continue my plan." Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, trying to say something. Anything. When you finally think of something, sudden pain hits the back of your neck. Black spots cover your vision in no time, your body falling limp in Aizen's arms. The last you heard was his low chuckles echoing throughout the room.

#bleach #anime #aizen #sosuke aizen #aizen x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #reader #yandere aizen #yandere sosuke aizen #hinamori #momo hinamori #toshiro hitsugaya #izuru #gin ichimaru #plans #spoilers

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amanyaika01 · 1 year

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Happy birthday art 2022 🌸✨💕💕

#hitsuhina #hinamori momo #Toshiro Hitsugaya #hitsugaya x hinamori #bleach #happy birthday #digital art #2022

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roguedarkscribe · 1 year

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Untitled Collection

Rating: T

Characters: Toshiro Hitsugaya, Momo Hinamori

Summary: A collection of oneshots featuring Toshiro Hitsugaya and Momo Hinamori

Status: In-Progress 9/?

Read it on AO3

#mywriting #bleach #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #hitsuhina #hitsugaya x hinamori

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sunimage · 2 years

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HitsuHina Fanfiction

Hello! I absolutely love Toshiro Hitsugaya and Momo Hinamori together, so I started writing some stories about them. I want to share them with you! The themes may vary.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14122136/1/Mine

A ONE-SHOT series in which they are the main focus (duh). It’s rated M for hinted and actual mature content.

A small preview of the second chapter:

"I can't believe I agreed to this."

He complained, nervously running a hand through silver locks. Some big-shot Captain he was. Apparently, all it took was a pair of pretty brown eyes and boom. Defeat.

"Oh, well I can!" He heard her chuckle all the way from the bathroom. A furious blush formed on his cheeks as a rather indecent image of Momo appeared in his mind. Damn the little witch and her stupid, infuriating creativity. What was it that got him? Punish me, Captain? Ridiculous.

"Stop it with the sulking already, you're killing the vibe!"

The bathroom door shot open with a bang. Toshiro's eyes widened with disbelief as his not-so-secret girlfriend of three months and ten days stepped into view, all dolled up and ready to go. Had she raided Rangiku's closet without his knowledge? There was absolutely no way in hell he would let her go out dressed like that.

"You like it?"

He frowned. Who the hell shows up in too-short a skirt, some sorry excuse for a top and asks such stupid questions? Damn right he liked it. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that, to his proficient knowledge, every single living male in Karakura Town will undoubtedly also indulge in looking at her creamy legs and exciting cleavage and we couldn't have that, now, could we?

"Change. Now."

The only other viable alternative was having him suspended for mercilessly freezing half the population and living as a fugitive for the rest of his pathetic life. If it weren't for the fact that he enjoyed giving out orders so much, he might've actually considered it. The weather in this irritating town had always been too hot for his liking.

"Bohoo. You're no fun. I'm keeping the top though."

Thankful that his stubborn girlfriend had somewhat complied, thus diminishing his punishment as a serial killer, Toshiro closed his eyes and sighed.

Finally, a moment of peace. Now he could properly think about the next best course of action. He would have to pay for the stupid hotel room (a total ripoff in his opinion but hey, his money, her choice, apparently) and then convince Momo to return home early. He would have to carefully remind her that, despite the fact they weren't on a mission, he was, in all actuality, still the very capable Captain of The 10th Division.

The slutty Lieutenant had wanted to go party with her loudmouthed human friends and, to his utter shame, he had been tricked into tagging along. On top of that, she viciously tempted him with her scandalous little outfit, probably causing him to pop a vein somewhere.

The nice guy act was approaching a rapid and enjoyable end. He wasn't (usually) a fan of pulling rank on others but if there's anything he has learnt during this foolish little escapade, it was that desperate times call for desperate measures.

The faster they returned to The Soul Society, the better.

#toshiro hitsugaya #bleach #momo hinamori #hitsuhina #tōshirō hitsugaya #bleach hitsugaya #ichigo x orihime #captain hitsugaya #hinamori momo #fanfiction #storytelling #bleach fandom #bleach fanfiction

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ghost-party · 1 year

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Previous || Masterlist || Next || AO3

Pairings: Sosuke Aizen x F!Reader, Kisuke Urahara x F!Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 5.8K

Warnings: age difference, power imbalance, lots of tension, flirting, possessive behavior, anger, fear, rough behavior (tugging on hair, ripped dress, light biting), implied consensual rough sex, swearing, punching/black eye, mentions of bruising, domestic violence (throwing objects in vicinity of partner)

A/N: Please be mindful of the warnings! Things get rather intense in this chapter… IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT INTERACT!

“It’s so nice of you to let us use your place like this.”

“Momo, I swear, that’s the fifth time you’ve thanked him. He gets it.”

Rangiku rolls her eyes before peeking into the oven to check on the turkey, while Momo blushes and ducks her head, focusing on her mashed potatoes.

Sosuke merely smiles from where he stands on the opposite side of the island. “It’s my pleasure, really. I don’t often host parties.”

“With this much space? That’s criminal.” But when Rangiku turns to face him, she wears a teasing expression.

When you and Sosuke returned from the cabin, you suggested that the two of you offer up his penthouse for Rangiku’s annual Friendsgiving dinner. Although her current apartment is larger than her old one, it’s still a tight squeeze, especially when the guest list seems to grow every year.

As you set the long dining table, placing silverware just so and draping dark cloth napkins atop each plate, you listen to your friends chat with Sosuke and are reminded that this is their first time meeting him.

Your boyfriend.

He looks especially handsome tonight, wearing a plum-colored sweater with a crisp white shirt layered underneath. As Momo stammers through an answer to a question he asked about her job, he pushes his glasses a little higher on his nose and regards her with a kind smile.

You were never truly worried. He’s unfailingly charming, and you knew your friends would see how enamored the two of you are. It didn’t take long at all to be proven right, with Rangiku teasing you for “those sappy heart eyes” within ten minutes of arriving.

But it’s worth it to hear her laugh at something Sosuke said, and to see Momo relaxing and opening up to a relative stranger — notable progress for someone so shy.

When the elevator announces its arrival, Rangiku beats you to it, her heels clacking on the floor as she smooths a hand over the front of her floral apron. It just barely conceals the plunging neckline of her dress.

“Remember, she’s the hostess,” Sosuke reminds you, sounding amused. He’s now standing beside you, holding two glasses of wine, and you accept one with a grateful smile. “We’re just supplying the location.”

“Don’t be so modest. You paid for the food and drinks, too.”

“What can I say? I’m trying very hard to make a good impression.”

“Through bribery? Or unnecessary modesty?” You grin up at him before standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Maybe both.”

A wolf whistle interrupts the moment, and you turn to see that Ikkaku and Yumichika have arrived.

“Have some class, freeloader,” the latter says, shoving a casserole dish into Ikkaku’s arms before walking over to you. “The least you can do is put that in the oven to warm up.”

Ignoring Ikkaku’s griping protests, Yumichika smoothly introduces himself to Sosuke, who, of course, greets him with equal affability. Deciding to leave the two of them to talk, you busy yourself with final preparations for dinner, deferring to Rangiku, who always has a “vision” for her get-togethers.

The next guest, however, is a surprise, even to her. As Toshiro Hitsugaya, Assistant District Attorney, enters the room, unwinding his cerulean scarf and looking around with what strongly resembles disinterest, she shrieks with delight.

“You actually came!”

“My other dinner plans fell through,” he flatly excuses, seeming to bristle as she hugs him tightly.

“Sure, boss. Whatever you say.” She gives him an exaggerated wink before wandering off, leaving Momo to take his coat.

As dishes are carried to the table and glasses topped off with various libations, you count the number of seats and ask Rangiku, “You did say eight, right?”

She has a pie in each hand as she looks up at you. “Yes. I’m sure the last two will be —” She cocks her head as you both hear the ping of the elevator. “There they are! Take these, please and thank you!”

You manage to balance both pies as she unties her apron, tossing it onto the counter just as a slender woman walks in.

She has long purple hair, dark at the roots, pulled back into a high ponytail that swings across the shoulders of her fitted leather jacket. Her gait is graceful, only made more so by her heeled boots.

“We made it!” she announces, even as Rangiku dashes towards her. Your friend relieves the stranger of the two bottles of wine she was carrying, one in each hand, before giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Based on appearance alone, having heard Rangiku gush profusely about her former coworker, you can only assume this is Yoruichi Shihoin. You’ve always been curious about her. After all, the career path from paralegal to tattoo shop owner is far from typical.

“This moron made us late. He’s been hunkered down in his lab for days, so I had to throw him in the shower first.” Yoruichi jerks her thumb over her shoulder, looking annoyed.

“I was meandering there. You just expedited the process.”

You stiffen upon hearing the familiar voice. But when you glance at Sosuke, now chatting with Toshiro, you’re impressed that his expression remains placid, his only tell a slight pursing of his lips.

Kisuke, on the other hand, is relaxed when he steps in, removing his scarf and draping both it and his coat over the others heaped onto the corner rack. He endures Rangiku’s teasing cheek pinch and even waves at Momo, fingers wagging, before finally looking at you.

“Long time no see,” he says, smiling a little wider. Unsure what to say in response, you nod, and a moment later, you’re relieved when Rangiku shouts at everyone to sit down.

That relief withers, however, when you remember her plans for a “conversationally adventurous” seating arrangement. You find your name card in front of a seat towards the head of the table, in between Toshiro and Kisuke.

Sosuke sits across from you, his agitation beginning to show before he quickly checks it, slipping on a familiar mask of benign politeness.

“Of course our honored guest gets to sit at the head.” Rangiku’s voice is full of flattery as she carries dishes to the table, but Toshiro gives her an exasperated look.

“And do honored guests get conned into washing the dishes later?”

Instead of replying, Rangiku turns on her heel and cheerily asks, “Momo, can you be a dear and grab the rolls?” It’s enough of an answer for Toshiro, who sighs.

For a while, you wonder if dinner might pass without incident. The varying conversations shift from one thing to the next, most of them idle talk and harmless banter. Sosuke and Kisuke don’t speak to one another, let alone look in the other’s direction.

But Kisuke seems determined to speak with you.

“That’s a lovely dress,” he murmurs, and you’re glad Sosuke is currently occupied with Yumichika, discussing the art gallery where he holds his exhibitions.

“Thank you.” You’re nothing if not polite, even if wariness leaves your response a little cooler than usual. “I didn’t realize you’re friends with Yoruichi.”

In truth, the two seem so comfortable around each other, you’re wondering if they might be more than friends. But you decide not to ask directly, due in part to the strange annoyance you feel at the idea of it.

“Oh yeah. We’ve known each other since we were kids.” Kisuke spears a piece of turkey on his fork. “Apparently, she never tires of my disappointments.”

Humming softly, you take a sip of wine. You can feel Sosuke’s gaze on you, fleeting yet intense, and although it’s tempting to look up, you resist.

I can handle this myself. I don’t need him to intervene.

Gracing Kisuke with a polite smile, you ask, “Did you know, before coming here?”

You don’t need to spell it out. He’s smart enough to know exactly what you mean.

After taking his time chewing, he swallows and answers, “That I’d be coming to Sosuke’s apartment? That you would undoubtedly be here, too?” He flashes you an easy grin. “What do you think, kitty?”

“Don’t call me that,” you mutter, your words hard even as you smile, hoping not to draw unwanted attention.

“Aww, you don’t like it?” He seems genuinely dismayed, his expression falling for the first time since he arrived.

“What is it that you want? To get back at him?” You keep your voice lowered as you lean in a little closer, noticing Sosuke out of the corner of your eye. He’s staring right at you — you and Kisuke.

“Something like that.”

The man in question gazes down at you with a sympathetic — almost pitying — look, and it startles you enough to leave you speechless.

Kisuke, however, speaks up again, this time looking past you as he addresses Toshiro.

“Have you made any progress with your task force? When I last saw Ukitake, he seemed pleased.”

He knows Jushiro Ukitake? It makes sense. You’re sure they’ve crossed paths at galas and other notable events held to benefit the city. But it still takes you aback.

You dare to look at Sosuke again, and you see that his fork has slowed just a little as he brings it to his lips, feigning disinterest as Toshiro answers, “We’ve made some progress. You know I can’t tell you much, but…”

He dabs at his lips with his napkin before locking eyes with Kisuke. “I think we’re getting closer to taking down the Fullbringers. And we have some leads on the Kyoka Suigetsu syndicate.”

“Leads are good.” Kisuke sounds optimistic as he spoons another helping of mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Better than nothing.”

“Have you considered the power struggle that will surely ensue once you’ve made your arrests?”

Sosuke speaks mildly, as if discussing something as mundane as the weather. And yet his gaze is sharp as he glances at Toshiro. Beside you, Kisuke suddenly looks more serious, perhaps more than you’ve ever seen him.

“It’s hard to know what we’ll be dealing with when all is said and done,” Toshiro admits. “Our goal, however, is complete elimination, with no one left to fight over who will lead.”

“An admirable goal,” Sosuke commends, though you can tell it’s an empty compliment tossed out in advance of a critique. “But there will always be someone seeking power. The world operates on balance, after all.”

“I never thought you believed in that.”

Kisuke is finally looking at Sosuke, his chin propped on his fist. “Balance. Order. Weren’t those boring concepts to you? I seem to remember you calling them a weak excuse to maintain the status quo.”

Sosuke’s jaw clenches, but the moment is so brief, you suspect no one else noticed — except perhaps Kisuke.

“It’s true. I suppose I’m more of a revolutionary at heart than a staunch traditionalist.”

“Don’t tell me you side with the criminals,” Toshiro says, clearly joking as he cracks a rare smile. “Sosuke Aizen, renowned philanthropist and financier, the proponent of a new world order achieved through anarchy…”

Sosuke chuckles, and something inside you runs cold at the affected sound, entirely false as he maintains the ruse of the rich man who enjoys playing devil’s advocate.

“Not through anarchy, no. But perhaps through careful planning. I think we can all agree that our society is ready to enter a new age.”

“Of its own choosing,” Kisuke clarifies, earning a disdainful look from Sosuke. “It’s not up to one man to determine the trajectory of the future.”

The table falls silent, and you feel paralyzed as Sosuke’s gaze narrows, his smile turning dangerous.

“Of course not, Kisuke,” he says, his tone condescending. “We live in a democracy, after all.”

He lifts his wine to his lips and takes a small sip as the collective tension begins to ease.

“In any case, a year from now, I think things will be very different…”

When you look at Kisuke out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s smiling again. But it doesn’t reach his eyes. He continues to stare at Sosuke until Rangiku interrupts.

“Good grief. I hear enough about work at work.” She heaves a dramatic sigh as she rests her elbows on the table. A pretty pink flush colors her cheeks, a sign that she’s been enjoying some of the wine Yoruichi brought.

“Hurry up and eat so we can play the party games I planned!”

“I’d rather choke on a bone,” Yumichika mutters under his breath, earning him a half-eaten roll thrown at his head.

The rest of the meal passes by in a blur, your attention helplessly split between Sosuke and Kisuke. Although your boyfriend seems, at first glance, to be unbothered, you can tell his irritation has grown. And Kisuke remains resilient in his efforts to draw you in, undeterred by your rebuffs.

After the dishes have been collected and taken to the kitchen — where Toshiro does, as predicted, get roped into washing them, with Momo on drying duty — the group moves to the living room.

Ikkaku compliments Sosuke’s couch as he sinks down into it, Yumichika sitting primly beside him. Yoruichi, having kicked off her boots at some point, folds her legs beneath her as she curls up on the floor. Kisuke sits at the opposite end of the couch, just enough space left beside him for you to occupy.

But before you can even consider it, a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back. Heat rises in your cheeks as you frantically pull at your dress, trying to keep from flashing everyone as you stumble into Sosuke’s lap.

He’s seated in one of the armchairs, like a king upon his throne. And as you settle against him, your back pressed to his chest, you can imagine his expression — pleased, almost smug in his satisfaction.

“Are you comfortable, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah… Thanks.”

Honestly, it’s a little embarrassing, sitting like this in front of your friends.

In front of Kisuke.

Rangiku swans in, carrying a fresh glass of wine, and loudly declares, “We’re going to play Never Have I Ever!”

You were expecting something far worse, or some complicated game she would drunkenly attempt to explain, stumbling over one rule after another. This, in comparison, is a relief, even if you’re feeling a little nervous about playing.

Yoruichi helps to ensure that everyone has a drink before kicking things off. Now stretched out on the floor, not unlike a cat, she says, “Never have I ever gotten arrested.”

Ikkaku sighs and takes a drink, his college antics already well known to you. But when Kisuke sips from his glass, you can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Public indecency,” he says, not sounding the least bit ashamed. Perhaps because he follows it up with, “The charges were dropped, though.”

“Nowadays, you keep your ass to yourself,” Yoruichi teases, and Kisuke simply shrugs.

The game continues around the circle, with everyone learning who has and hasn’t stolen something, broken a bone, or cheated on a partner.

When it’s Kisuke’s turn, he makes a show of mulling over his choices before he lowers his voice and states, very seriously, “Never have I ever killed someone.”

For a moment, the group is silent. But then Rangiku bursts into laughter, prompting the others to do the same.

“Even if one of us has, you seriously think we’re going to confess?” she asks.

You watch as Kisuke slowly turns to look at Sosuke, and the weight of his gaze leaves your mouth dry.

“Nah… I just thought it would be funny.”

The lie is convincing enough if you’re not paying attention. But you are, and so is Sosuke.

His arm squeezes you so tight, you gasp a little, prompting him to immediately relax. But you can still feel the hard strain of his posture, ramrod straight in the chair as he stares back at Kisuke.

You can’t see his face. But you don’t need to.

After everyone has left, he stalks through the penthouse, tossing his sweater over a dining chair before popping open the top two buttons of his shirt. You watch as he rakes a hand through his hair while shakily pouring two fingers of whiskey.

You watch him warily, unused to seeing him like this. Your concern only grows when he tips the glass back and drains it dry, setting it down hard on the countertop.

“Sosuke…”

He looks at you, as if realizing for the first time that you’re still here with him. You’ve taken off your shoes, but you’ve yet to change out of your dress. As he closes the space between you, your nervousness spikes, and you swallow hard before speaking again.

“Did Kisuke —”

Sosuke’s fingers tangle in your hair, grasping it hard enough to make you gasp. But the sound is swallowed by his lips, bruising and insistent, dominating your mouth with ease. You flinch when his free hand reaches for the zipper of your dress, yanking it down hard enough that you hear a seam rip.

“I thought I told you,” he growls, using his grip on your hair to force you to look at him, keeping your head firmly fixed in place, “I don’t want to hear you speak his name.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “I didn’t mean to — I was just worried —”

Sosuke kisses you again, and you’re relieved to notice this one is a bit softer, though his teeth still nip at your bottom lip.

“I’m not angry with you,” he murmurs, his hand splaying across your now-bare back, the panels of your dress peeled open to expose your skin. “I’m not, darling, I promise. I just need this — need you.”

Despite his plea, you know that if you were to use your safe word right now, he would stop. This wouldn’t go any further. And he would never hold that against you.

But you can’t deny that his words have an effect on you. He needs you. Tonight was too much of a strain, too much tension stretched perilously thin, on the constant verge of snapping.

You can give him what he craves — a distraction, a release. You can let him take you apart and then painstakingly, lovingly, put you back together.

“You have me,” you whisper, even as your heart beats a staccato rhythm of fear against your ribs, an instinctive response you can’t quite shake.

“I’m yours.”

•••

Two weeks later, as the snow begins to fall in earnest and Christmas grows ever nearer, Sosuke is set to compete in his long-awaited fencing tournament.

As the two of you look at the men’s épeé seedings and pool assignments posted just inside the doors, he seems unfazed. He’s wearing his contacts, along with his usual fencing gear. The only color in his white jacket comes from the club patch sewn onto one sleeve.

His expression doesn’t even change when his eyes lock onto Kisuke’s name.

Both men are seeded favorably, as you expected. The day after the party at his penthouse, Sosuke explained that, prior to leaving, Kisuke had mentioned his entry into this tournament, saying it had sounded “like a fun time.”

“We both fenced in college,” Sosuke said, his voice still tense but bled dry of any frustration. “I was on our school’s team, but he was with a private club. We sometimes practiced together, when we had time.”

He didn’t say who was the better fencer, or if they were evenly matched. Still tired and sore from the previous night, you were hesitant to ask. Besides, it hardly matters who was more skilled back then.

What matters is how those skills have aged in the twenty years that followed.

You can tell Sosuke is intensely focused, even as he presses a kiss to your temple and promises to find you later. It’s nerve wracking, being at an event like this, something unfamiliar and distinctly outside of your comfort zone. You’ve managed to learn a few things about fencing, but you still feel like a novice.

Luckily, while Sosuke progresses through the pool stage, you find yourself in the company of Izuru Kira. He’s been a member of Sosuke’s fencing club for two years now, and he openly professes his admiration for the older man — as well as Gin.

“I didn’t realize he fenced, too,” you say, glancing around the spacious facility. It’s nearly impossible to spot someone in here, especially with so many fencers wearing their masks, a sea of faceless white.

“He’s not here today, but he fences foil.” Izuru rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, watching the action unfold. “And honestly, he doesn’t show up to practice much these days. Guess he’s been busy.”

Even though you and Sosuke have been together for months now — first, as an advantageous arrangement, and now, as a true couple — you still don’t know what exactly Gin does, apart from the fact that he and your boyfriend work together.

When you ask Izuru why he’s not competing, he lifts his right hand and cites a persistent injury, something he’s hoping is a nonissue by the time the spring tournaments begin. But he still wanted to come and show his support.

It’s nice to have someone with you to explain certain calls and define unfamiliar terms, and his sarcastic sense of humor keeps you entertained, especially as the day wears on.

He slips away around noon to find some food for the two of you, and that’s when you finally catch sight of Kisuke.

His hair is unruly, though you can hardly blame his mask — that just seems to be its natural state. He combs his fingers through it, smiling at something his companion says. As the crowd between you begins to dissipate, you see that it’s the blond man from the masquerade, his chopped bob as unmistakable as his Cheshire Cat grin.

You feel warmth spreading down your neck as your eyes move over Kisuke’s figure, tall and lean. Whenever you’ve seen him in person, he’s opted for looser, more casual garments, henleys and sweaters. But now, his jacket hugs his torso, and his broad shoulders roll again and again as he stretches lightly in between bouts.

Considering you’re staring, it should come as no surprise that his gaze snags on yours, his expression brightening. But even so, the heat building beneath your skin seems to flare, and you find yourself quickly looking away, as if that will deter him from coming over.

You’re not lucky enough for that to happen.

“You’re here by yourself?”

His voice is pleasant as always, a slight rasp to it as he lifts his water bottle to his lips. Your eyes fixate on the bob of his throat as he drinks deeply, until you force yourself to redirect your attention.

“Why? Are you going to offer to keep me company?”

Some part of you hopes he might. As intrigued as you are by the prospect of seeing him fence against Sosuke, you can’t ignore this sense of foreboding — a bone-deep conviction that something bad is going to happen if they cross blades.

“Regrettably, no. But I’m sure Shinji would be happy to fill in.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, back towards the blond man. He now looks to be arguing with a petite young woman in a red jacket, who’s actively trying to kick him.

“I’m guessing you entered this tournament purposely.”

Kisuke tilts his head, looking amused. “That’s usually how it goes. It’s a little hard to just stumble into one of these things.”

Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose, you settle for frowning up at him as you clarify, voice low, “You did it to fuck with him, didn’t you?”

“Such language.”

Kisuke’s gaze is mirthful as he leans in closer, lowering his voice. “And so what if I did? I like games, and I always play to win.”

“Is that what this is, too? Between us?”

There it is. You’ve been wondering for a while now, so it’s a relief to finally voice the question that’s been plaguing your thoughts.

Because the truth is that Kisuke has been on your mind more than you would ever admit, especially to Sosuke.

Kisuke’s smile remains, but there’s a shift in the way he looks at you, as if an invisible layer of separation has been pulled away, revealing avid interest — and, to your confusion, something unmistakably tender.

He takes a step forward, minimizing the remaining space between you.

“Contrary to what you might think, I don’t play games with pretty girls. Anything you think you’ve felt? I promise you, it’s real.”

It takes you a moment to find your words, and when you do, your voice is smaller than you would like. “But you don’t even know me.”

He reaches out and gently presses his finger to the notch at the base of your throat, right below where the bell on your collar sat the night of his Halloween party.

“I know more than you might think. And even though I know you won’t, I still wish you would take my advice.”

“Be careful.”

Someone calls his name, and the spell is broken. Kisuke steps back, an almost forlorn look flitting across his face before he turns away. Even after he’s gone, you find yourself wondering what you could have said — should have said, and you’re only pulled from your anxious reverie by Izuru’s sudden return.

“Sorry that took forever. The line was insane.”

He’s holding two plastic-wrapped deli sandwiches, looking panicked as he glances between you and a strip further down, where the finals will take place.

“Looks like they’re done determining third place, so it’s go time. Sosuke’s in the finals, along with —”

“Kisuke Urahara,” you murmur. “I know.”

As the two of you make your way over, Izuru ahead of you, any hunger you previously felt seems to vanish, your stomach clenching with nerves.

Both men have already secured their reel wires to their jackets, and you watch, arms crossed as they plug their respective épeé blades into their body cords. Noticing that you haven’t asked for your sandwich, Izuru tucks it into the backpack slung over his shoulder before peeling back the plastic on his and taking a small bite, watching as the competitors salute one another.

The match begins slowly, Sosuke and Kisuke seeming to hang back and take stock of one another before leaping into action. But as they start moving, gaining momentum as they dash back and forth along the strip with impressive agility, it feels as if your chest is slowly constricting.

First Sosuke pulls ahead, then Kisuke, and back and forth they go, trading point after point, lunging and parrying. Izuru mutters under his breath at every double-touch, and across the strip, you can see Shinji standing beside his small companion, his expressive mouth twisted into a grimace.

When the second period concludes, the score is tied. Accepting a fresh water bottle from Izuru, you push your way through the crowd of onlookers, until you catch Sosuke’s attention. As he comes down, you can practically feel the tension humming throughout his body, radiating off of him like heat from an engine.

He removes his mask, revealing slicked-back hair and a face damp with sweat. As he accepts the water bottle with a hoarse “thank you,” he attempts a small smile. But it doesn’t look right, almost as if the muscles in his face are straining against him.

“Just one more to go,” you reassure him, ignoring his perspiration as you press your palm against his flushed cheek. “I can tell you’re wearing him down.”

“Not enough,” he sullenly bites out, shaking his head. But he lets his fingers brush against yours as he hands the bottle back, a small, sweet gesture. Keep watching, it says. I’m going to win.

Except he doesn’t.

It happens so fast, you nearly miss it. But when Kisuke slips past Sosuke’s defenses to score a point off of his right shoulder, just before the final period ends, Izuru swears colorfully, fisting his hands in his hair.

“Damn… I really thought he had it.”

Apparently, so did Sosuke. The referee calls for both men to salute and shake hands, and while Kisuke complies, pulling off his mask, Sosuke turns on his heel and walks off the strip, headed in the direction of the locker rooms.

Izuru is stunned, gaping as he watches his mentor disappear into the crowd. But Kisuke only looks resigned and exhausted as he salutes the ref and joins Shinji on the opposite side of the strip.

“I’m going to… I’ll go check on him,” Izuru finally says, sounding almost apologetic before taking off at a jog.

You find yourself rooted to the spot, something akin to panic blooming wildly in your gut.

Of course you knew Sosuke would be upset if he lost. It’s understandable. But to make such a scene, to behave so poorly, in front of so many people, regardless of the circumstances… You never expected that. And it has you wondering if you truly know him at all.

As you walk to the parking lot, deciding to meet him there and give him some time to cool off, you attempt to reassure yourself. You’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. It’s just a fencing tournament, nothing more than that. He’s a competitive man. He let his emotions get the best of him this one time.

Except it hasn’t happened only one time. The lingering bruises on your hips speak to that, nearly faded weeks after the fact, but not quite.

When you step outside, you immediately hear raised voices. Not many people have left yet, so it’s easy to find the source of the commotion. You hardly have a chance to look, though, when Sosuke’s car pulls up.

“Get in.”

At the forefront of the small group, you see Shinji facing your direction, his face a mask of fury. Kisuke’s hand is clasped on his shoulder, looking as if it’s the only thing holding him back.

His other hand is pressed to his face, covering his left eye.

“Sosuke, what —”

He speaks again through this open passenger window, this time with force. “Get in.”

Numbly, you do as he says, your eyes remaining helplessly locked on Kisuke until you’ve lowered yourself into the leather seat. It’s difficult to discern the injured man’s expression, but all the same, you feel sick to your stomach.

Neither you nor Sosuke break the silence as he drives back towards the city. You’re afraid that no matter what you say, he’ll snap at you again. And you’re not even sure what to say in the first place.

Only when the two of you are back in his penthouse do you muster the courage to speak.

“What happened back there?”

You jump a little as his heavy fencing bag hits the floor. His back is to you as he unzips his jacket and shrugs out of it, the black t-shirt he wears underneath clinging to his toned body, soaked through with sweat.

“Sosuke, what did you do? Please, talk to —”

Without warning, he reaches towards the kitchen island, grasps the neck of a bottle of wine — a gift from a colleague that he brought home just last night — and throws it.

It erupts against the wall, shattering in a spray of glass and dark liquid, staining the painting hanging there.

Your breath hitches in your throat, something horrible clawing its way up, making it impossible to speak. You stare at him with wide eyes, afraid to move. The man standing before you is someone else entirely — a predator looking for the barest excuse to bite.

No.

The word fills your mind in an instant, like a door slamming closed.

You love Sosuke. You do. But you refuse to put up with this.

Taking a step back only draws his attention, as you knew it would. But you steady yourself and take another.

“Where are you going?”

His voice is as low and seductive as ever, except now, there’s venom in it, a simmering anger on the verge of boiling over.

“Home,” you answer firmly, tightening your grip on your purse strap. “I can’t be with you when you’re like this.”

He’s quick, stepping forward in an attempt to close the space between you. But you outpace him, nearly tripping over your own feet in the process.

“Stop.” You speak loudly, the slight tremble in the word betraying your fear. Even so, you press on, telling him, “I’m leaving. Whatever this is, whatever’s happening with you… I’m not going to let myself get hurt.”

It’s as if you’ve reached out and slapped him hard across the face. Sosuke’s face instantly goes slack, shock forcing the anger to recede, if only briefly.

“I wouldn’t — I would never —”

You shake your head. “I need space, Sosuke. What you did to Kisuke —” His expression darkens yet again, but you ignore the fear and force yourself to keep talking “— I can’t trust that you won’t do it to me, too.”

He still looks as if he might protest, and you need to end this before you lose your courage, or your knees buckle beneath you.

“Let me go.”

A long moment passes before he finally turns away, gripping one of the dining table chairs as he leans heavily on it. When he says nothing, you back up another step, and then another, continuing until you reach the hallway leading to the elevator.

You’re shaking by the time you make it to the lobby of his apartment building. In the time it takes for you to hail a taxi, you make a difficult decision, but one that feels necessary.

You’re not going home. At least not yet.

•••

Kisuke answers the door, looking stunned to see you standing on his front steps, already dusted with snow from the evening flurries. He’s changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, and there’s a bag of frozen peas clutched in his hand.

His left eye is swollen, the skin around it reddened. You suspect the bruising will appear tomorrow, thinking back to injuries Ikkaku sustained back in college, begrudgingly nursed back to health by an unsympathetic Yumichika.

“What are… What are you doing here?”

You feel a little proud to have surprised Kisuke, a man who seems to delight in staying several steps ahead of everyone else. But you keep that to yourself as you look up at him and recite what you practiced the whole way here, in an effort not to lose your nerve.

“I need you to tell me what you know about Sosuke. No more games. I want the truth.”

#desperate measures #aizen x reader #sosuke aizen x reader #aizen sosuke x reader #tw age difference #tw power imbalance #tw domestic violence

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