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m3kuroshirt · 2 years

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House of Assassins Part 10

Link to part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

word count: 1880

Warnings: none

Ichigo checked his outfit for the tenth time. It was simple, a blue dress shirt with beige slacks and polished shoes; business casual. He pursed his lips as he looked at his hair, dyed black and gelled back for the occasion. He resisted the urge to run a hand through it. He glanced over the tools he’d be bringing; a clipboard and pen. Well. It wasn’t actually a pen. Ichigo’s fingers flexed, urging him to test the pen again but he forced himself not to listen. It had been tested the night before. There was no reason to test it again.

“You’re certain you don’t want help?” a cool voice came from the doorway. Ichigo looked over his shoulder to see Uryuu in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe with a casual air and adjusted his glasses, dark hair pulled out of his face in a short ponytail. Ichigo raised an eyebrow at him.

“What, from Mr. ‘I Prefer to Work Alone’?” He asked teasingly.

Uryuu huffed and pushed off from the door frame. He stopped just behind Ichigo. “I meant from Chad. He told me to ask you,” he replied, unconvincingly.

Ichigo just grinned. “Uh-huh. Sure.” Uryuu’s cheeks flushed slightly. Ichigo rolled his eyes fondly picked up his clipboard and pen. Out of all of their brothers, Uryuu was the one who seemed to have the hardest time showing concern. “I’ll be fine. I’m all set.”

Uryuu eyed his outfit. “Well, you do look the part. But are you sure you can pull it off? You don’t know much about pharmacies.”

“Uryuuuu, I’ll be fine,” Ichigo groaned. “I don’t have to list things off, I’m the one asking questions. That’s what an auditor does. Besides, I consulted Unohana for what to put on the checklist.” Uryuu pursed his lips.

“Alright. Be home in time for dinner. It’s your turn to cook, and I don’t want Orihime trying to fill in again. My stomach can’t take it.”

***

Grimmjow set the phone down after the HR employee hung up. He blinked at it once, twice…then he shook his head. “Nel! Neeeel! NEL! What time is it?” he shouted.

“Ten-thirty! Why?” Nel called back.

“Interview got moved up!” he shouted back as he rushed up the stairs to his bedroom.

“To when?!”

“Eleven.”

“Today?!” Nel’s voice sounded incredulous, with a smidgen of the glee Grimmjow could feel racing through his own veins.

“Yeah. They just called and said they had a cancellation, and they want to keep moving through these interviews quickly.” He whipped off his casual clothes, not really paying any attention to where they landed as he tossed them behind himself. He struggled into the new outfit he’d bought; pink shirt and grey slacks with the matching vest. A quick look in the mirror revealed his disheveled blue hair. He grumbled under his breath and headed to the bathroom for a comb.

Five minutes later, he nearly bounded down the stairs. Nel was in the living room, eyes wide and bright with excitement. “Good luck, Grimmy!” She threw her arms around him in a hug, but not too tightly, so as not to wrinkle his outfit. Grimmjow grinned at her and ruffled her hair.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later. Maybe I’ll get us some of those cupcakes you like on the way back,” he called over his shoulder as he disentangled from the hug and opened the door.

“You’d better!” Nel called after him, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

Grimmjow hummed to himself as he approached his car. He barely registered the taxi pulled up in front of Ichigo’s home; he only barely saw a man with black hair climb inside before the cab peeled away from the curb. He was just about to enter his own car when a voice called out.

“Hey! Where’re’ya going dressed up like that?”

Grimmjow paused to look at the neighbour’s porch where a familiar red-haired boy stood. “Hey Jinta. I’ve got a job interview.”

Jinta blinked and a strange look came over his face. “Oh ya? Where at?” Normally the demanding tone would put Grimmjow on edge. Jinta may be a kid, but even so he should still know manners. But today, Grimmjow felt nothing could dampen his spirits.

“The pharmacy! It got moved up to today,” he replied and he climbed into his car. He fastened his seatbelt, double checked he had his wallet, and pulled into the street. As his home disappeared in the rear-view mirror, Grimmjow missed the look of abject terror on Jinta’s face.

***

Orihime was restocking the medical kits when the front door burst open. She jumped slightly before composing herself as footsteps thudded to the kitchen. “Ichigo? Did you forget some…thing?” she asked as she turned around. Her voice trailed off on the last syllable as she saw it was Jinta, not Ichigo who ran inside. “Jinta? What’s wrong? You look upset.”

“Ichigo!” was the first word the boy gasped out. Immediately, Orihime tensed. She rushed to his side and put a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to be more level with him.

“What about Ichigo? What happened? He just left, what could have happened?”

Jinta shook his head and Orihime bit her lips to stop more questions and allow him time to answer. “Grimmjow left. I saw him leave after I saw Ichigo off!”

At that, she blinked. “Grimmjow? What does he have to do with…”

“To an interview! He’s going to his interview! He was dressed up all fancy.”

Orihime frowned. “But Jinta,” she said, giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze, “his interview isn’t for another few days. Ichigo made sure. Are you certain it’s not another job interview? He applied for a lot of places; it wouldn’t be unusual for them to call him and set up an interview as well.”

Jinta shook his head. “No. He said it was the pharmacy! He said it got moved up to today! We have to go and tell Ichigo.”

Orihime’s blood froze. Her mind whirred and buzzed but nothing seemed to click. Grimmjow’s interview was moved up. Ichigo is going to kill Aizen today. Grimmjow and Ichigo will be in the same building while Ichigo completes the hit. Danger. Danger. Dangerdangerdangerdanger.

“-Hime. Orihime!!” Jinta’s voice cut through the droning buzz of her thoughts and Orihime started slightly. “We have to go! You can drive us, right? We have to stop Ichigo!” The words sank in, and part of Orihime wanted nothing more than to run out and grab Ichigo and Grimmjow both and bring them right back. Instead, she squeezed Jinta’s shoulder and shook her head again.

“No. If we do that, we’ll risk blowing Ichigo’s cover and put him in even more danger,” she answered calmly, but she kept her hand on Jinta’s shoulder so as not to betray the trembling in her fingers. “If we run after him, we could be seen and neither of us would have time for a proper disguise. Or, if in the best case, we catch him before he gets there, where the cab drops him off instead, and he has to call the company, cancel the ‘audit’ and reschedule. It was hard enough to make it seem convincing and official through an email, and you and I both know how Ichigo gets when someone he cares about is in danger. He wouldn’t stop. He’d want to rush in and drag Grimmjow out. Or at least follow him to make sure he gets out. It would be suspicious no matter what.” Orihime reached with her freehand into her pocket.

“But! If we don’t do anything then they’ll both be in danger! What if something goes wrong? What if Grimmjow accidentally blows Ichigo’s cover?” Jinta demanded.

Orihime swallowed. “We’ll just have to trust in Ichigo’s abilities and that he won’t get thrown off.” Her voice wavered and her lip trembled, even as she did her best not to let the tears burning in her eyes pass.

“But! But!!”

Orihime shook her head abruptly. “I…I’ll phone him. Right now.” She pulled out her phone and quickly scrolled to Ichigo’s number.

The silence as the phone rang, waiting for Ichigo to pick up, was deafening on their end. Orihime didn’t let go of Jinta. She gripped his shoulder tighter instead; like he was her lifeline. Finally, finally, the rings stopped. And Orihime’s heart fell as she hear the familiar message on Ichigo’s email. Still, she thought, I can’t just not say anything. I have to try to warn him to at least be careful.

“I-Ichigo, it’s me. It’s Orihime. I…Jinta said Grimmjow was leaving for his interview. At the pharmacy. It got moved up. Be careful and make sure you stay safe. You’ll both be safest if he doesn’t see you at all.” Orihime chewed her lip as she ended the call. Absently, she noticed the taste of copper and realized she’d broken through the skin.

“…’Hime?...” Jinta’s voice was small. Orihime looked down at him. Her eyes widened when she realized her hand was clenched so tightly on his shoulder that her knuckles were white.

With a gasp, she released his shoulder. “Oh, Jinta! I’m so sorry. Does it hurt?” she leaned over his shoulder as she spoke, lifting his shirt sleeve to see the red imprint of her hand. She dropped the shirt sleeve and started tying back her long hair. “Oh, oh, no, Jinta. I am so sorry. Come here, come sit. I’ll get some ice.” Jinta said nothing, but obeyed with a soft sniffle. Orihime firmly pushed the phone call and voice message from her mind as she concentrated on Jinta.

***

Ichigo watched the sidewalk pass by, along with houses and trees and even the occasional person. Nerves bubbled up in his gut, hot and acidic. He tried to swallow the feeling down, but his mouth was dry. It was different this time. There was someone he cared about at stake. He needed this to go well, and it had to be done today. There was no room for failure. Not that there was ever room for failure before…but this time…this time it felt different. So he distracted himself by looking out the window.

With his attention elsewhere, and his phone on silent, it wasn’t a wonder that he missed Orihime’s call. It was only as the cab pulled up to the sidewalk that he saw she’d left him a message. He hesitated briefly. It isn’t like her to call when I’m on a job, he noted.

“Um. Sir? Is…is this the right place? You haven’t…moved…”

Ichigo’s eyes lifted to meet the gaze of the cab driver in the rear-view mirror. “Ah! Yes. Sorry about that. Here, let me pay…” He pocketed his phone and grabbed money from his wallet; paying in change rather than card. He smiled at the driver. “Thanks.” Then he exited the cab.

Another quick look at his phone as the cab went on its way revealed he was cutting it close to the agreed ‘audit’ time. Ichigo’s mouth became a thin line and he sighed. Orihime would have to wait. He slid the phone back into his pocket, straightened his posture, and strode forward for the short walk down the block to the pharmacy.

#grimmichi #jeagerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #au #fanfic #m34gswrites #assassin au #house of assassins

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

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(image reads:)

Grimmjow: If Hueco Mundo’s gone… Where would I meet you?

Ichigo: In my bedroom.

💙🧡

Or… The one time where Grimmjow was afraid of not being able to see Ichigo anymore if not in Hueco Mundo. But then he realized that he could have been sneaking in in Ichigo’s room from the start. Suffice to say that Ichigo hasn’t slept alone since his proposition. (by @kuroosden)

🧡💙

Alternately by @m34gs

(image reads:)

Grimmjow: If Hueco Mundo’s gone… I’m gonna miss our fights.

Ichigo: Right. Fights? Nothing else, huh?

#grimmichi #incorrect grimmichi #grimmichi quotes #incorrect grimmichi quotes #m3kuroshirt #kurooswrites #m34gswrites

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m3kuroshirt · 2 years

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Dying Breath

Based on Prompt 50 from this prompt list by @creativepromptsforwriting

Word Count: 660

Warnings: Major Character Death

It wasn’t raining. Of course it wasn’t. The sun was shining. It was a warm day. In the distance, sounds of life echoed through the busy streets and children’s voices carried on the wind over the high apartment buildings and danced along with the breeze. They didn’t know. They couldn’t see. It was a warm day.

So why was the man in his arms so god-damned cold.

Ichigo wasn’t sure at this point how long he’d been holding Grimmjow, the blue haired arrancar, his once-enemy, once-ally, now friend…now…what? Lover? Had they gotten that far? The point seemed both inconsequential and the only thing that mattered.

The hollow they’d been fighting had long since been defeated and returned to the gates of hell. A soul that was tainted with evil and crime even before death. Ichigo couldn’t help but feel a bitter satisfaction at the fate of the soul even as he held Grimmjow closer, feeling the other man’s shallow breath on his neck. He tried to stand, but his legs weren’t working very well. A distant pain tore his gaze to them and he realized at least one of them had been sliced open. Huh, was all he thought before his gaze returned to Grimmjow.

Grimmjow’s eyes fluttered. His chest barely moved with the short sharp breaths he took. There was blood; a stark contrast with his blue hair and eyes. It covered his torso, his arms, parts of his face. His body was slippery with it. Still, Ichigo held on. He cursed himself inwardly for not having thought ever to ask Unohana about healing techniques. It wasn’t that he didn’t find them useful…he just never thought he’d need to use them on someone.

He never thought he’d be unable to protect the one who mattered to him most.

He squeezed his arms tighter around Grimmjow. “Grimm…Grimmjow?” he whispered, scared to make more noise than a whisper, afraid that if he did the scene in front of him would take a turn for the worse. Denying to himself that there was no other way for it to go. “Grimm? Please. Open your eyes.” His voice wavered so he didn’t dare say more.

But at the sound of his words, the bluest eyes he’d ever seen fluttered open. A hazy gaze fixed on him, strikingly vibrant against the background of a face quickly losing any colour it had and becoming a sickly grey pallor. Pale lips moved, but no sound came out. Ichigo cupped Grimmjow’s cheek with his hand.

“Hey! Hey! You’re going to be ok. I’m gonna…I’m gonna figure it out. I’ll figure something out,” Ichigo babbled, trying to soothe the other. But Grimmjow wasn’t the frantic one. His eyes met Ichigo’s for a moment, and in that feverish dying haze Ichigo could see an understanding and…acceptance. He felt his own amber eyes burn with frustrated tears and opened his mouth to protest, but the longer he stared into those blue eyes, the more his will to fight fate gave out, flickering and dying like a candle left outside in the rain. He shut his mouth and stared into Grimmjow’s calm, steady gaze. They were the eyes of a hunter that knew it’s time was up; not the ones of a cornered animal Ichigo might have expected. This was someone who was at peace. And for a split second, Ichigo envied him that.

He traced his thumb over Grimmjow’s lips, accidentally smearing bright red blood on the bottom one. He let the tears well in his eyes until they overflowed and slid down his face, two burning hot trails of regret and sorrow. Slowly, softly, he brought his lips to Grimmjow’s own. He kissed him gently, sweetly. And Grimmjow kissed him back.

It was slow. It was soft. It was both cold and warm. It was slick and metallic with the taste of blood.

And when Ichigo pulled back and saw Grimmjow’s eyes had closed, he knew.

It was over.

#grimmichi #jeagerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #angst #m34gswrites #dying breath #grimmichi fic

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m3kuroshirt · 2 years

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Red Tulips

GrimmIchi Valentine's Day Flower Shop AU

Word count: 1057

If you’d told Grimmjow three years ago that he’d be working at a flower shop, he would’ve laughed. He had absolutely no interest in flowers, thought they were silly little things with a pathetically short lifespan. What kind of whimpy man cared about flowers and plants? That was his attitude then.

A short stint in prison and then the impossibility of finding a job with petty theft on his record did wonders to change his outlook.

That’s where Aunt Hallibel proved to be a lifesaver. Her flower shop was small, with a loft over it where he could stay, and she lived in a town where no one really knew him. It was like a fresh start. Grimmjow would have to be a fool to pass up that kind of golden ticket. Now, he was two and a half months into his job, enjoying the stable income, the roof over his head, and even tolerating his cousin Nel’s incessant babbling much better than he used to.

And…there was one more thing, or rather, person, that made his current status look overall…pretty damn good.

Ichigo Kurosaki, the son of a local doctor, and a man Grimmjow couldn’t seem to get out of his head. If he was a young school girl, Grimmjow might’ve called it ‘love at first sight’, but he preferred describing it as an ‘attraction to the only other idiot who seemed to be able to throw a good punch around here’. Not that he voiced how they met too loudly…he could be in significant trouble if word got back to his aunt that he was in a fist fight after only two days of living there.

It had been a rocky start to the friendship, that much was certain, but all it took was a second meeting, some idiots threatening Grimmjow’s life, and a pint of beer for them hit it off really well.

“Grimmy! Ichigo’s here!” Nel’s voice rang through the shop all the way to the back where he was double-checking a few arrangements he’d made. The back room was an absolute mess, and Nel and Hallibel had assured him it always was that way on February fourteenth.

Grimmjow glanced up at the clock. Five minutes until his shift ended. Hallibel had told him not to worry so much over five minutes, but still, he stressed. So he called back “I’ll be there in a few minutes!” He took another look over the arrangements and nodded, satisfied with their appearances. Then he turned to the side where sat a small bouquet.

His mind shot to the memory of asking Ichigo to spend the day with him.

“Wait, the fourteenth?” Ichigo had asked, an adorable, confused frown on his face. “Isn’t that Valentine’s Day?”

“Uh, right. I…forgot,” Grimmjow lied. “Sorry, you probably have a date, or something…” Ichigo blinked and shook his head.

“No…I don’t…I thought you would’ve, though,” he admitted.

“Nope.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“…then, yeah, I’d be happy to hang out!”

Grimmjow’s anxiety was kicking him now for not clarifying what he meant back then. For not biting the bullet and just asking Ichigo on a date. But he couldn’t do anything about that now. He just hoped the other didn’t freak out or hate him after his. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans.

“Hey,” a low, warm, familiar voice greeted. Grimmjow spun around and found himself facing the very man he’d been thinking of.

He blinked. “Uh. Hi.”

Ichigo offered a small smile. “Uh, Nel said I could come back here. She said you’re a stickler for time sheets and staying to the minute and all…” his voice trailed off as his eyes noticed the other arrangements Grimmjow had been working on. He whistled. “Those are pretty. You made them?”

Grimmjow flushed slightly and shrugged. “Yeah. Customers ordered ‘em. They’ll be picking them up soon.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh. So…I got beer upstairs. And thought we could order food. Maybe play some games?”

Ichigo grinned. “Sounds good.”

“Grimm I need the arrangement with the roses,” Nel stated as she flounced cheerily into the backroom.

“Uh, right.” Grimmjow passed her the arrangement. Nel flashed him and Ichigo both a smile.

“Did you like your gift, Ichigo?” she asked with far too innocent an expression. Ichigo blinked at her.

“My…gift?”

Grimmjow shot her a glare that could turn the sun itself to ice. Nel just smiled wider. “Grimmy got you something.” Then she damn near danced out of the room, roses in hand. Grimmjow glared after her. When she was out of sight, he turned to Ichigo.

Grimmjow’s blush returned tenfold. “Uh. Yeah. I figured, uh…It…It’s here…” he mumbled and he reached behind himself and reached for the tulips. His heart leapt into his throat and he found his fingers trembling. He grabbed the bouquet and shoved it into Ichigo’s chest. The other man blinked, eyes wide, and caught the flowers.

There was silence for one beat, two… Ichigo’s cheeks erupted in a brilliant blush. “You got me flowers.”

“Yes.” Grimmjow’s gaze was on the floor.

“They’re red tulips.”

“…yeah.”

“Do you…are you…asking me…” Ichigo’s voice trailed off, but Grimmjow couldn’t help but cling to the way his words lifted at the end, hesitant but hopeful. Ichigo swallowed audibly and continued. “Are you saying…you like…love me?”

Ah. There it was. The words. Grimmjow had been toying with those words in his mind for a while now. And hearing them out loud, coming from Ichigo himself, his heart became a wild beast fighting for freedom from its cage. He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then…this is a Valentine date?”

Grimmjow shifted from foot to foot. “If you want it to be.”

There was another pause. Then,

“Yes,” Ichigo breathed. Grimmjow’s gaze snapped up so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

Grimmjow looked into shining amber eyes and a sweet face, cheeks reddened like strawberries. He couldn’t stop the grin that stole onto his face. He gave a joyful shout and threw his arms around Ichigo. Ichigo laughed, his voice like deep rich bells ringing. He returned the hug with one arm, the other still clutching his flowers to his chest.

Vaguely, above the laughter, Grimmjow could hear Nel saying “oh did he finallyask?” but he ignored her. He wouldn’t let any amount of teasing from his cousin ruin this moment.

#grimmichi #grimmichi fanfic #Valentine's Day #Red Tulips #flower shop au #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #m3kuroshirt

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m3kuroshirt · 2 years

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House of Assassins Part Nine

Link to Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Word count: 1375

A/N: Hey all, been a while since I posted for this au...but worry not! There will be more coming! Thank you all so much for liking and sharing previous parts, it really means a lot 💜 Hope you enjoy this part and, providing the universe allows me time, there will be more up soon! Thank you so much for all your patience :)

~m34gs, m3kuroshirt admin

Ichigo fidgeted with his hair for the tenth time in the mirror. “You look fine,” Grimmjow commented with a smirk. “Quit fussing.”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at the reflection of Grimmjow in the changing room mirror. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one…” his voice trailed off and he flushed a deep red as he remembered what happened only a few moments ago in that same changing room. Ichigo turned away from the mirror, finally feeling secure enough in his appearance. He lowered his voice and hissed, “You’re not the one who got his hair pulled and got covered in hickies.”

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t seem to mind in the moment.”

Ichigo felt his face redden even more, if that was possible, and he could feel his pulse rushing in his temples. “I…I-that…I mean…” he stammered. He covered his face with his hands and took a slow breath. “It…wasn’t bad. And I liked it…I just mean…everyone else might see…” he mumbled finally, voice muffled by his hands.

“…is that a bad thing?” Grimmjow’s tone was teasing. Ichigo slowly lowered his hands, face still burning.

“…no…I’m just…shy about that stuff,” he mumbled, gaze on the floor. When he did glance up, it was to see a fond expression in the other man’s brilliant blue eyes. Grimmjow reached out and rested his hand on Ichigo’s cheek before the young man had a chance to turn away. He stroked his thumb across Ichigo’s lips and licked his own absentmindedly.

“You’re so…” Grimmjow let his voice trail off and let his actions do the talking. He leaned in and kissed Ichigo for what had to be the hundredth time; long and soft and sweet. When he pulled back they were both slightly out of breath. “I’ve wanted to do something like this for so long,” Grimmjow murmured. Ichigo’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“I…” he started, but he couldn’t find the words to convey what he was feeling. Nonetheless, Grimmjow seemed to understand, because he kissed him again, this one a short peck on the lips.

Ichigo blinked at him and Grimmjow chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get going, the others are waiting,” he stated, again with the teasing tone, mirroring Ichigo’s earlier statement. Ichigo gave a soft sigh and shook his head fondly. He finished fixing his clothes, taking maybe a few more minutes than necessary in the hopes that his face would be less red.

He didn’t dare look at any of the employees as they left the changing room and exited the store. He could feel their eyes on him, and he was eternally grateful Grimmjow had been the one to go and pay for the new clothes and not him.

It was a weird sensation, leaving the store with Grimmjow now. He wanted to hold hands. He wanted to keep his distance. He wanted to shout to the world that yes, he, Ichigo, had kissed (among other things) this gorgeous, gorgeous man next to him. He wanted to keep their sudden intimacy secret, like a treasure locked deep away in his heart and guarded by the fierceness of his emotions, so that he could ponder and turn it over and over in his mind, like a dragon treasuring its gold.

With this turmoil of emotions going on inside, Ichigo was working on autopilot. He didn’t realize the two of them had even entered the café, were holding hands, or had seated themselves next to each other with the rest of their friends until the waitress asked what he wanted to order. It was like he was slammed back into his body. Ichigo blinked and glanced around the table. Most eyes were on him and he could feel the blush from earlier returning. He felt a gentle squeeze on his hand and glanced to his side without turning his head to see Grimmjow eyeing him with a concerned look. Ichigo tried his best to shoot them all a small smile, to be reassuring. He looked up at the waitress.

“Um, a green tea please,” he requested. She nodded, jotted it down, and walked away. Grimmjow must have given his order already. Ichigo was a bit perplexed. It wasn’t very often that he was so unaware of his surroundings. If the others noticed his clothes were different, they didn’t comment, and the table fell into an awkward silence after the waitress left.

There was a few minutes of quiet, before Orihime, bless her soul, attempted to carry on the conversation. “So, Grimmjow! You’ve got your new clothes…now tell us! Where are you interviewing?” She may have broken the silence awkwardly, but her smile was genuine and kind, and her tone was inviting. Ichigo couldn’t help but think he was glad she seemed to like and approve of Grimmjow. Uryu does too, his mind supplied, and the thought warmed his heart a little more.

“Oh. A few places, honestly. I just applied for everything I could think of. So did Nel,” Grimmjow replied casually. Under the table, his hand still held Ichigo’s, and Ichigo felt a gentle warmth and security as Grimmjow rubbed his thumb absently over the back of his hand.

“Everywhere except the cleaning business,” Nel chimed in with a giggle. “I’m definitely not cut out for that.” There was a round of laughter. The waitress returned with a green tea for Ichigo and a cold drink for Grimmjow. Ichigo thanked her and took both to set them down in front of himself and the other man.

“I think the best one would probably be the pharmacy, though,” Grimmjow continued before he took a sip of his drink. Something in Ichigo’s stomach dropped. Orihime blinked.

“The pharmacy?” she asked, her smile still present, but her eyes now had the slightest glint of worry to them. Ichigo and Uryuu exchanged fleeting glances. If anyone knew about Unohana’s pharmacy having an opening, it would be Orihime. Unohana was constantly trying to recruit the young woman to a permanent position in some of the…less public dealings…of the business. If she was surprised, that was not a good sign…

A quick look around the table told Ichigo that no one else seemed to find Orihime’s expression out of character, and he felt a small relief at that. They had to be careful, after all. Ichigo took a sip of his tea. Maybe Unohana was looking for someone for the store-front, maybe that’s why Orihime wasn’t in-the-know this time around, he thought.

“Yeah,” Grimmjow replied as he set his glass down. “Uh, it’s the new place. That ‘Hueco Mundo’ one?” Ichigo choked on his tea.

Grimmjow started beside him and let go of his hand to whack him roughly on the back a couple times as Ichigo coughed and spluttered.

“Are you alright, Ichigo?” Hallibel asked, her face contorted with concern. Ichigo gave a weak smile as he tried to find his voice.

“Y-yeah,” he managed. He cleared his throat roughly. “S-sorry about that. I, uh, inhaled at the wrong time.” He rubbed the back of his neck, doing his best to act sheepish. Grimmjow’s hand rested on his back now, and the warmth radiating from his palm was damn near intoxicating. But it did nothing to quell the icy dread that settled in Ichigo’s stomach. He turned to Grimmjow with a smile that felt incredibly fake to wear stretched over his face. “Uh, so tell us about the pharmacy? When’s the interview?”

Grimmjow didn’t seem to think the smile was fake, and Ichigo thanked Yoruichi for all the training on how to lie. It really was paying off, even if the lies themselves dug their claws into his heart and made him wince internally as he tried not to think about how upset Grimmjow would be if he found out the truth.

“I got an interview there in about a week. It’s a full-time position and the pay is pretty generous,” Grimmjow replied. Ichigo nodded along, feeling himself relax slightly. A week. He had a week. If he could just carry out the hit in that time, he would be fine. Grimmjow would be safe and none the wiser.

One week. He had most of the intel he needed at this point, anyway.

He could do this.

#grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #house of assassins #assassin au #bleach #m34gswrites #grimmichi fanfic

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

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Buy Me Dinner First

GrimmIchi challenge #5, college au

Challenged by: @kuroosden

Word count: 1278

Theme/trope: miscommunication

Required Words: disclose, penalty

Warnings: nsft talk, suggestive conversations, crude language

When Grimmjow invited the cute nerd who always sat in the front of his statistics class over to study, he hadn’t meant actually studying. He figured even the nerd would know that much. And yet, when he answered the door to his dorm room, there stood Ichigo, in jeans and a blue t-shirt, book bag slung over his shoulder and a binder cradled in his arms. And there stood Grimmjow, low-rise jeans on, bare foot, no shirt, hair carefully styled to look as casual and messy as possible without actually being tangled. They stared at each other for a moment, Ichigo’s face turning more and more red by the second. Finally, he blurted out “I’m sorry! I must have misread the time!”

As Ichigo started to back up, Grimmjow felt as though his chance to talk to the other boy ever again was slipping away. “Wait!” he blurted out. Ichigo paused, wide eyed. Grimmjow’s tongue stumbled over his words as his brain struggled to keep up with his mouth. “Um…uh, it’s…I’m the one who mixed up the time! You, uh, you’re fine, ok? So, uh, come inside. I’ll…get dressed…” He took a step back as he spoke, hoping he sounded inviting and not just weird. There was a moment’s pause, and Grimmjow could feel his heart thud against his ribcage, could hear the blood rushing through his veins.

“O-ok,” Ichigo said finally, and he hesitantly stepped into the room. Grimmjow silently released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he shut the door. He quickly grabbed a shirt from his closet while Ichigo sat on the bed. It was a single room, tiny with a small, uncomfortable bed, one closet, a desk with a chair across from the bed, and a counter that ran along the back wall. Bathrooms were communal, something that Grimmjow wasn’t particularly fond of, but it wasn’t the worst. At least they were clean.

Once he had a shirt on, Grimmjow joined Ichigo and sat next to him on the shitty mattress. “So…uh…” he tried to start, but it was rather difficult to come up with something to say about classwork when he hadn’t wanted to study at all in the first place. Luckily, Ichigo took over.

“I thought we could start with reviewing last week’s lesson and then move onto the prep for this week,” he suggested. Grimmjow didn’t really have any alternatives, so he nodded.

“Yeah, uh, that sounds good.”

***

“That one’s wrong too. So that’s…thirty push-ups,” Ichigo concluded. Grimmjow groaned, but got down on the floor anyway. “Don’t complain so much. You’re the one who wanted to implement a penalty for the practice questions.”

Grimmjow huffed in annoyance, but he started doing the push-ups anyway. He counted in his head. It wasn’t so much for the sake of motivating himself that he suggested the idea of a penalty to Ichigo. It was more for the sake of his own restlessness. The longer he sat near the orange-haired, brown-eyed beauty, the more he wanted to touch, to brush up against his shoulder, to run his fingers through the other’s hair…and that meant he was fidgety. At least this way, he could try and focus that energy elsewhere.

Sweat slid down his temple as he finished, cheeks heated and arms starting to feel stiff. He had been getting a lot of questions wrong. As he sat back on his knees, Grimmjow looked up to see Ichigo staring at him. When their eyes met, the other young man blinked and looked away abruptly, but Grimmjow could see a rosy colour dusting his cheeks. Interesting.

As he opened his mouth to speak, Grimmjow was interrupted by the door bursting open. “Oi! Jaegerjaquez! Did ya fuck ‘im yet?!” a rather annoying voice called. Grimmjow felt his cheeks turn redder and he glared at the door where a freakishly tall, thin man stood.

“Shut the fuck up Nnoitra,” he snapped. He snuck a glance at Ichigo, who was watching the two of them with wide eyes. Nnoitra just aimed a smug grin at him…until his eyes caught sight of the books in Ichigo’s lap and the open binders. The tall man blinked and squinted at the two of them, smile sliding off his face.

“Wait, are you actually studying?” he asked suddenly. Grimmjow opened his mouth to respond, but Ichigo beat him to it.

“Yeah, what else would we be doing?” He was tense, clearly annoyed. Grimmjow sent a prayer to whichever deity was available that Nnoitra would drop the subject and just leave. Or get struck by a really random strike of lightning. Either one would work.

Apparently, the answer to his prayers was ‘no’, since Nnoitra neither dropped dead nor stopped talking. “…you get dropped as a baby or somethin’? Who the fuck actually ‘studies together’? He totally invited you over to fuck.” Ichigo shut his book in his lap.

“Well, he failed to disclose that part,” he retorted. Nnoitra raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything to make the situation worse, Grimmjow cut him off.

“Get out before I call Szayel to come and get you.”

Nnoitra glared at him. “The fuck you would,” he spat out. Grimmjow raised his eyebrows now, and pulled out his phone. “Fuck! Fine. Fine! I’m going!” The door slammed shut as Nnoitra scrambled away, no doubt eager to avoid being dragged away by his brother.

The silence after the slam of the door was deafening. Grimmjow took a deep breath and turned to face Ichigo. The orange haired student had his eyes on the floor, his things all packed up, face as red as a tomato. “I…is that why you weren’t dressed when you answered the door?” he asked finally. Grimmjow felt his own cheeks heat up.

“Uh. Yeah.” He stared at the wall, suddenly unable to handle looking at the other. “Sorry…’bout the miscommunication…”

“Oh.”

The two of them were silent for a while longer, each lost in his own thoughts. Grimmjow felt uncomfortable, like the air inside the room was thicker, pressing on him from all angles. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, to tell Ichigo that it was ok if he wanted to go, that they would never have to speak again if he didn’t want to, but the other man spoke first.

“Dinner.”

Grimmjow blinked and frowned. He looked up at Ichigo, not quite sure what mental aerobics he’d done to get from their current situation to that word. “Huh?”

Ichigo shifted from foot to foot, clutching at his bag, but amber eyes fixed on Grimmjow’s. “Dinner. That’s your penalty. For not telling me properly, you owe me dinner.” Grimmjow tilted his head.

“…not that I’m disagreeing with you…but…aren’t you like, angry? Don’t you want to never see me again, and all that jazz?”

Ichigo shrugged and fidgeted with the strap of his book bag again. “I mean, I’m more embarrassed that I missed what you were getting at. And…” he glanced at the door, as if expecting Nnoitra or someone else to come waltzing in. When nothing happened, he continued, “…the more I think about it, the more I think it’s kinda cute that you didn’t try to correct me and just met me where I was. But I’m still not exactly thrilled that you weren’t clear on what you wanted to do. So. Dinner. You’re buying. Let’s go.”

Grimmjow stared at him for a moment. Then he grinned. “Alright, I can do that,” he agreed, standing up and grabbing his wallet. “Leave your stuff here.” He gestured to the bed. Ichigo dropped his books and bag on the bed. Then he followed Grimmjow out the door.

#grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #miscommunication #ch:Nnoitra #grimmichi challenge #m3kuroshirt #idiots in love

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

Text

House of Assassins

GrimmIchi Weekend Challenge #4

Words Count: 1738

Challenged by @backwardshirt

Warnings: None

Genre/trope: Found Family

Required words: neighbour, killer

Ichigo lives with his found family of assassins, and they're getting some new neighbours.

This will be part of a series :D

“Ichigo!” The voice came to him through the murky shadows of sleep. Ichigo shifted, heavy eyelids fluttering. “Ichigo! WAKE UP!” The scream jolted him fully awake and Ichigo barely had time to dodge whatever was flying toward him. He threw himself to the side and thudded to the floor. A shadow flew over him and his bed and hit the wall with a thunk! A groan came from the other side of the bed. Ichigo rubbed the side he landed on and raised himself up, peering over the bed. There he saw…a Renji, splayed out on the floor, red hair broken loose from its usual ponytail.

“What the hell, Renji? You could have knocked,” Ichigo grumbled. His friend grunted and heaved himself up from the floor, turning to face him.

“I did.” He rubbed his head with a frown. “And then Rukia said the food she made is getting cold. So I decided to use desperate measures.”

Ichigo gave him a deadpan stare. “Knocking didn’t work, so naturally your next step was launching yourself at me?” Renji blinked up at him.

“…yes?”

Ichigo glared at him. Renji shrugged. Ichigo sighed and pushed off from the bed. He turned around and walked to his closet to grab something to wear. As he pulled on his shirt, he glanced over his shoulder. “You gonna give me privacy or…?”

Renji, who had moved himself up to the bed and was laying on it and reading a manga he grabbed off the night table, gave him a cursory glance before returning to his book. “Nope. Your bed is comfy.”

“We have the same kind of mattress. Literally. Bought the same day. What the hell have you done to yours to make it less comfy?!” Ichigo struggled into his tight jeans as he spoke. Renji shrugged.

“Why do you wear such tight pants?” The tone of his voice suggested the question was meant rhetorically and Ichigo glared at him again. Renji smirked.

“Renji! Ichigo! The food is going cold! If you two don’t get down here right now, you’ll miss out!” The words were innocent enough, but the voice that delivered them was laced with barely contained annoyance. The two straightened and exchanged wide eyed glances before rushing to the door and down the stairs.

They were greeted by a stern-faced Rukia, a smiling Orihime munching on pancakes, and a silent Chad putting dishes in the dishwasher. Exchanging greetings with everyone, the two sat down with plates stacked with pancakes and dug in.

“Our new neighbours move in today,” Orihime stated cheerily as she finished the last of her food. She stretched her arms over her head. “So, we have to be on our best behaviour, you know. Kisuke said so.” Ichigo gave a non-committal grunt as he chewed on his food. As if Kisuke knows anything about ‘best behaviour’, he thought.

As if on cue, the door to the basement burst open and Kisuke Urahara struggled up the stairs, carrying a massive box. What was in the box? Ichigo wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He tried to eat faster, but he knew leaving any unfinished food wasn’t an option the way Rukia was watching. With a huff, Kisuke heaved the box and dropped it on the only clear section of the table. “How are my little killer children?” he asked with a grin. Orihime smiled widely.

“Good morning, Kisuke!” she chimed. Chad nodded a greeting before disappearing back upstairs. Ichigo stared at the blond man.

“I thought we were being subtle today?” he questioned. Kisuke waved him off with a smug grin.

“Eh?” Kisuke pretended to peer around with overexaggerated motions. “Why? Are there any new neighbours in here?” Ichigo shot him an annoyed glance but Renji snorted and almost choked on his food, catching the other boy’s attention.

“Renji. If you die laughing at Kisuke making fun of me, I will not be doing CPR to bring you back,” he stated. Renji coughed again, before managing to speak.

“F…Fair,” he gasped out before downing a glass of water. Ichigo turned back to Kisuke.

“Got any jobs today?”

Kisuke shook his head. “Nope. New supplies to test out, though,” he answered brightly as he patted the heavy box. Ichigo stared at the box for a moment, then shared a glance with Rukia, Orihime, and Renji.

“I have cooking lessons with Rukia later!” Orihime declared immediately.

“Going to meet up with Byakuya! We’ll be busy all day,” Renji added.

“I’m practicing hand to hand with Yoruichi today!” Ichigo threw his excuse out hastily. He sent a silent apology to Chad and Uryuu, and from the looks of everyone else’s faces, they were doing the same. Then, as if on a cue, all of them rapidly cleaned up and vacated the kitchen.

When he was finally out of the house, and free of Kisuke, only then did Ichigo allow himself to relax. A gentle autumn breeze tugged his hair and sent a shiver down his spine, so Ichigo turned up the collar of his jacket and shoved his hands in his pocket. He could see the moving truck pulled up to the house next to theirs, and although he was curious, he tried to keep his distance. Unfortunately, Kisuke was too good of friends with Yoruichi for Ichigo to be able to actually lie about practicing with her, so he had accidentally talked himself into a corner and had no choice but to walk past the truck on his way to her place.

That is, until it happened.

As he walked past the truck, a shadow fell over him and a high-pitched voice shouted, “Look out!” Ichigo spun around rapidly and caught the falling object. Which happened to be a man. A man holding a heavy box. Ichigo landed on his ass with an ‘oof!’, a large warm body in his lap, back pressed up against his chest and ear near his mouth.

“Fuck,” was the first thing Ichigo heard, and the voice was low and rough and delicious…No. Bad Ichigo, he thought to himself. At least make sure he’s not hurt, you idiot.

“You ok?” he asked. The man stiffened. Then he scrambled off of Ichigo and turned around, box shoved onto the ground. Ichigo stared up at him, and his breath caught in his throat. The man was tall, with broad shoulders, messy blue hair and piercing blue eyes. A white t-shirt stretched a little too tightly across his chest, and sweat beaded on his forehead, likely from the effort of moving boxes. Ichigo realized he was staring, and the man was staring back at him.

“Grimmy! Are you ok?!” a woman with green hair poked her head out of the truck the man had fallen from. The man glanced at her, and Ichigo realized that must be who she was referring to. The woman’s eyes fell on Ichigo and widened, before she turned back to the blue-haired man. “You shouldn’t get so distracted! Other people will get hurt!” The man’s cheeks reddened.

“’m fine,” he muttered. Then he looked at Ichigo and offered him a hand. “Y’alright?” he asked, clearly embarrassed. Ichigo blinked and took the hand, fighting back a blush.

“Uh, yeah. I’m…I’m good,” he replied. As the man helped him to stand, Ichigo had to virtually beat away the thoughts in his mind. Don’t focus on the biceps…don’t focus on the biceps…he chanted internally. Once he was upright, he swayed a little, the blood rushing anywhere but to his brain. “Sh-shit,” he mumbled as he stumbled a little. Immediately, a strong arm was wrapped around him.

“You sure about that?” a low voice asked. Ichigo closed his eyes. Get it together, Kurosaki, he chastised himself, you’re an assassin. You can’t be going weak in the knees for one hot guy. You see Renji every day. An image of Renji snoring, on his bed, hair tangled and drool pooling on the pillow next to him, rose in his mind and Ichigo found himself able to gain his composure. Ok, maybe Renji isn’t that hot…

“U-uh, yeah,” Ichigo mumbled. He opened his eyes and stepped away from the stranger. He turned around with a reassuring smile to the man and the woman. “Sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not the way you were planning on meeting your new neighbour, I’m sure. Uh, I’m Ichigo. Live next door,” Ichigo introduced himself. The green-haired girl smiled.

“I’m Nelliel! You can call me Nel! It’s nice to meet you, Ichigo! I’m glad Grimmy didn’t crush you into dust!” she answered with an enthusiastic wave.

‘Grimmy’ shot Nel a glare. He turned back to Ichigo. “’M Grimmjow. Not whatever weird nickname she” Grimmjow jerked a thumb toward Nel, “decides to give me for the day.” Grimmjow? More like Grimm-WOW. Ichigo internally cringed at his own lame pun and thanked the universe he didn’t say that out loud. He opened his mouth to make an excuse to leave when a voice behind him called out.

“IIICHIGOOOO~,” Kisuke’s voice rang out from the front door of his home. Ichigo tensed. “I see you’re not at Yoruichi’s and she said –”

Eyes wide, Ichigo spun around, desperate not to be roped into another experiment with deadly weapons and poisonous concoctions. “I’m helping the neighbours move in, Kisuke!” he hollered. He heard a quiet ‘huh?’ behind him and shot a pleading look over his shoulder at Grimmjow and Nel. Grimmjow frowned, confused, but Nel seemed to catch on. She smiled brightly and waved to Kisuke.

“Your son is really kind to offer his help!” she called. Ichigo dared a glance at Kisuke to see if the lie worked and caught sight of Kisuke’s knowing look. Unfortunately, the windows of the house gave a clear view of their neighbour’s front yard…so it looked like Ichigo would be under surveillance. Damn. I won’t be able to get away. He turned and held his arms out for a box, but it wasn’t Nel who handed him one. Instead, Grimmjow grabbed the large, heavy box he dropped earlier and rested half of it in Ichigo’s arms.

“It’s too heavy to carry alone,” was the only justification Ichigo got. He blinked, cheeks turning pink as he realized this would mean he’d have to work with Grimmjow…carrying things…watching the other man carry things…and see more of those lovely biceps…yeah, ok, maybe Ichigo was more on board with this than he thought.

#grimmichi #grimmichi challenge #writing challenge #m34gswrites #found family #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #ch:urahara #ch:Renji abarai #ch:Orihime #ch: Nel #ch:Rukia #ch:Chad

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

Text

Love?

Word count: 898

Warnings: none

Ichigo hummed softly as he leaned back on the park bench. The warm afternoon sun filled him with comfort. Next to him, Grimmjow stretched his hands over his head before following suit and leaning back in the bench. Ichigo couldn’t help but smile. It had taken a long time to get to this point…to be able to sit with each other and talk in a park; just the two of them, no training bunker, no Kisuke, no soul society. It was calm. It was peaceful. It was everything Ichigo wanted, and the one person he wanted to always share that everything with. The one person…who was completely oblivious to the substitute shinigami’s feelings.

Ichigo turned his head and studied his companion. His blue hair was messy and a few strands fell lazily over his forehead. His profile had a strong outline, and his sharp blue eyes surveyed the park in front of them, always on alert. Ichigo wondered if there would ever be a time his eyes would be relaxed…maybe not at ease, but at least not searching for enemies everywhere.

Grimmjow glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and caught Ichigo staring. Without turning his head, he asked “the hell are you looking at?” Ichigo sighed.

“Nothing,” he murmured, turning once again to face forward. Silence stretched between them after that. Ichigo watched the sun slipping lower and lower as the afternoon stretched into evening. “Hey Grimm?” he asked. He wasn’t sure when they’d established that nickname. It had really just slipped out one day, but Grimmjow didn’t seem to mind. At least, not when Ichigo used it.

A grunt was all he got in response, but Ichigo knew the arrancar was listening, so he continued. “Do you know what love is, Grimm?”

There was a brief pause. Then, “I dunno. Never felt it.” The words were stated plain and simply, no trace of animosity in them. And yet, Ichigo felt each of them like a little needle stabbing at his heart. He did his best to keep his face and tone neutral.

“Do…do you think you could?” he asked carefully, not daring to look at his companion yet.

“Mm,” Grimmjow gave a thoughtful hum. “Kisuke says so. He says I can feel anger and happiness, so there’s no reason I couldn’t also possibly love.” He stretched his head from side to side, neck popping as he did so. “Dunno if I’d even recognize it though.” Ichigo nodded.

“Makes sense,” he agreed. Silence fell between them once more. Ichigo’s heart thudded painfully loud and his mind was buzzing, urging him to just do it, just tell him already. He turned to Grimmjow and forced himself to sound as calm and nonchalant as possible. “I’m in love.”

The result was instantaneous. Grimmjow’s head whipped around to face him, sharp blue eyes searching his face. “With who?” he demanded. Ichigo wasn’t sure if the other was aware of how he sounded; voice low and serious, like he would consider beating the shit out of the mystery person if Ichigo said a name he didn’t approve of. And honestly? That made Ichigo’s heart flutter a little. Still, he forced himself to look calm.

“…a guy,” he answered vaguely. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes.

“Which guy.”

“…he’s tall, and strong…blue eyes…”

“Give me a name, Kurosaki.”

“…he calls himself ‘Grimmjow’.” Ichigo held his breath after he spoke.

Expressions flashed across the arrancar’s face in less than a second; surprise, confusion, annoyance?... Then Grimmjow was glaring at him.

“There’s a guy going around pretending to be me, and you’re in love with him?!” he accused as he folded his arms across his chest. Ichigo couldn’t decide if he wanted to punch him or laugh. He settled for an exasperated sigh.

“Did I mention he’s a fucking idiot?” he replied to Grimmjow. “It’s you, you dumbass. I’m in love with you.”

Grimmjow opened his mouth. Then shut it. Opened it again. And shut it again. Finally, he managed to make words come out. “You. Me? I…you? Me?? You???” he stammered. Ichigo worried his lip between his teeth.

“Yes, Grimm, I’m in love with you.” Ichigo fidgeted in his seat. “Is…is that ok?”

Grimmjow went silent. He still faced Ichigo, but the look in his eyes told the substitute Shinigami he was a million miles away. He blinked slowly, once, twice…then he focused his gaze back on Ichigo. “I…I don’t know if I love you back? But…but I like that you said you love me.” He looked so distraught. Ichigo couldn’t help but give him a comforting smile.

“It’s ok. Emotions are hard. You can take all the time you need to figure it out,” he replied gently. Grimmjow nodded slowly.

“Ok.” He frowned for a moment. “I…I think I need to go and ask Kisuke something.” A sad pang flashed through Ichigo’s chest, but he forced it down and smiled instead.

“Yeah. You go ahead.”

Grimmjow nodded and stood up. Then he glanced around, almost as if lost. “Uh. Um.” Ichigo waited patiently for the arrancar to say what he wanted. “I…I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then he was off, walking quickly away.

Ichigo blinked and watched the other man’s retreating form. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t even any indication of Grimmjow’s feelings. But it was a promise Ichigo would hold onto. “…see you tomorrow,” he murmured with a small smile.

#grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #idiots in love #fluff

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

Text

House of Assassins Part Seven

Link to part: one, two, three, four, five, six

Word count: 1559

Warnings: none

Grimmjow scrubbed at the pot. It was the only thing not dishwasher safe, and it was probably the messiest item from the supper time meal. He could hear Nel babbling excitedly on facetime with their aunt somewhere in the house. Otherwise, the home was silent. His hands were red from the heat of the water, and the smell of dinner still hung in the air.

A sudden patter of feet, and then Nel was in the kitchen, still on her phone. “Grimmy! Aunty Hal wants to know if your measurements have changed. She said she’ll get you a suit, tailored specifically, and send it over for your job interviews.” Nel bounced up and down in place excitedly. Grimmjow sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t want you to do that, Aunty,” he called over his shoulder, still scrubbing the pot. “I’m doing this on my own.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a bit of help, Grimmjow,” Hallibel’s smooth voice was slightly tinny from the phone.

“You’ve already helped us a bunch. Besides, having a suit professionally tailored and sent over? That’s a lot more than a ‘bit of help’,” he protested. Nel chewed her lip.

“You have helped a lot, Aunty,” she admitted, her excitement gone now. Halibel sighed. Grimmjow couldn’t see her with his back turned, but he could picture her face, framed by golden hair, sharp intelligent gaze probably a bit downcast right now.

“Alright,” Halibel conceded. “I won’t buy you a suit. But I do want to help you pick something out; give advice at the very least.” Grimmjow grimaced. He knew what that meant.

Nel brightened immediately. “Shopping trip! YES!” she cried. “Oh! Aunty, we have to invite the neighbours! The girls are so fun, and Ichigo…he’s Grimmjow’s latest crush! He has to come! Grimmy has to stun him by trying on so many cool outfits!”

“Oh?” Halibel sounded amused over the phone.

“No! Nope. Not happening,” Grimmjow protested as he whirled around. “She doesn’t need to meet Ichigo!”

Nel grinned impishly at him. “See, Aunty, notice he didn’t say that he doesn’t have a crush on him?! He’s completely head over heels for the pretty boy next door!”

Halibel gave a low chuckle. “So I see.” The phone was angled away from Grimmjow, so he couldn’t see her expression. He narrowed his eyes.

“S’not funny,” he muttered. “I don’t have ‘crushes’. He’s just…good-looking. Eye-catching. Interesting.” Grimmjow dried his hands on the dish towel. “That’s all.” Nel continued grinning, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Suuuuure. Keep telling yourself that,” she teased. Grimmjow balled up the towel and threw it at her. Nel danced away, giggling, and ran upstairs to her bedroom, Aunt Hallibel still on the phone. Grimmjow just shook his head. He picked up the towel again and hung it up neatly.

***

When Nel came over and announced she was planning a shopping trip with her aunt, and that she wanted to invite some friends, Ichigo had thought he wasn’t even a candidate. Orihime? Yes. Rukia? Absolutely. Uryuu? Sure. Ururu? Possibly. But Ichigo? He didn’t really enjoy shopping. He didn’t think he looked like a person who enjoyed it, either. He was totally surprised when, after recruiting several of the others, Nel flashed her brilliant green eyes at him and asked if he’d be joining them, since Grimmjow would need company.

Ichigo blinked. His mouth dropped open slightly. “Uhhh.” He glanced quickly at Urahara. Even though they’d supposedly resolved all the tension about him coming home late, Ichigo wasn’t sure how Kisuke felt about him hanging around Grimmjow.

But Kisuke had smiled and said without missing a beat, “Of course, he’d love to. He’ll just have to remember to charge his phone this time.” Ichigo felt his cheeks flush at that. It wasn’t so much a warning about his phone as it was a reminder that he needed to ‘treat himself with care and enjoy life’, as Yoruichi put it. Nel apparently either didn’t hear the second statement or didn’t think too much of it, as she just shouted in excitement and wrapped her arms around Ichigo in a crushing hug.

And that was how he got in his current situation: standing awkwardly in the store, pretending to study the display of mannequins, hands in his pockets and various shopping bags from the girls hanging from his arms. He normally wouldn’t carry everyone’s items like this, but the girls were all in the changing rooms, so he’d volunteered. Even Uryuu was busy admiring the clothes around. Though Ichigo noticed him wrinkle his nose a couple times at the price tags. Ichigo couldn’t help a small smile. Sure, the clothes here were nice…but give Uryuu a bolt of cloth, a needle and a thread? He’d top their most eccentric piece easily. The man was gifted in the art of fashion.

“Ugh, no! Aunty, I’m not wearing that,” a gruff voice protested. Ichigo snuck a look to the side to see Grimmjow refusing yet another shirt. There wasn’t anything particularly wrong with it and, from what Ichigo could see, it would look very sharp on the blue-haired man. He got it, though. It was always a little embarrassing to feel like someone else’s dress-up doll. It was becoming more and more apparent that Grimmjow had been reluctant, maybe even downright refusing the shopping trip. Ichigo wondered idly how Nel got him to agree to come.

“Blue is a good colour, Grimmjow. It can indicate trustworthiness and honesty,” Hallibel replied, her voice smooth and gentle, reminding Ichigo of a still lake. She was tall and graceful, with golden skin and straw-coloured hair and piercing, soulful eyes.

“Well, I’ve got blue hair then. That should be enough. It’ll look ridiculous if my shirt matches my hair,” Grimmjow snapped back. Ichigo bit his bottom lip as a smile stole across his face.

“No, you should dye it back to your original colour. At least for the interview,” his aunt answered calmly. Grimmjow looked like someone had just cut off his arm.

“No! Nope. Not. Happening. This,” Grimmjow gestured to his mess of blue hair, “is staying. It’s me. If they don’t like me, they can’t have me.”

“What’s your original colour?” Ichigo couldn’t stop the question before it escaped his lips.

Grimmjow’s gaze snapped to him. “That’s not the issue here!” he protested.

“He’s blonde,” Hallibel answered absentmindedly as she replaced the shirt on the display. Then she picked up another one. “What about this one?”

“Aghghgghghghghhh, don’t just go around telling people that!” Grimmjow hissed, turning back to his aunt. Ichigo couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. Grimmjow shot him a glare, but Ichigo just grinned at him. Helplessly, Grimmjow shook his head and looked at the shirt his aunt held up. “Ack! It’s pink!” He squawked.

“Yes, pink would look good on you,” Hallibel answered seriously. Grimmjow stared at her like she’d lost her mind. Ichigo laughed harder. He walked over to the two of them and reached out to feel the fabric. Hallibel looked at him as if waiting for his opinion, so Ichigo said the first thing on his mind.

“Well, it would look good with your complexion…and the blue hair would be a contrast…would definitely keep you from being forgotten in the masses. Plus, it’s really soft…like, really, really soft.” Ichigo admired the fabric as he felt it between his fingers.

There was a moment of silence. Then, without warning, Grimmjow snatched the shirt out of their hands. “Fine,” he grumbled, “I’ll try the damn thing on.” And he spun on his heel and marched to the dressing rooms. Hallibel hummed thoughtfully, and then strode over to a rack of dress pants. She scanned them briefly before picking a dark grey pair. She walked over to Grimmjow’s changing room and tossed the pants in over the top of the door. The resulting squawk told Ichigo the pants landed right on Grimmjow, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at his neighbour’s reactions.

It was entertaining, listening to Grimmjow and Hallibel argue through the dressing room door. All the while, the girls were in and out of their own dressing rooms, showing off to each other a variety of dresses, skirts, dress pants and blouses, jumpers, and shoes. So many shoes. Uryuu dutifully gave his opinion on each piece while still somehow managing to roam the entire store in between each showing. After several minutes, Ichigo sauntered over to where Hallibel was still trying to coax Grimmjow out of the stall.

“Come on, Grimm,” he called teasingly, “the girls have tried on, like, six outfits each while you’ve been in there with just one.”

“He’s right,” Hallibel agreed. “Are you going to come out and show us or not?”

A pause. “…what if it looks dumb…” Grimmjow’s voice was low, embarrassed. Ichigo did feel a pang of sympathy.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad…I mean, you could…you could always just open the door and not come out of the stall, and we could tell you honestly,” he suggested. “That way the whole store doesn’t have to see if you think it’s that bad.”

Another pause. “Ok.” The lock on the door clicked. It opened a sliver…then a little more…then some more…until Grimmjow was standing there, directly in front of the two of them.

Ichigo felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

#grimmichi #jeagerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #house of assassins #found family #idiots in love

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

Text

Spicy GrimmIchi Oneshot

idea suggested by @collisiondiscourse (he makes some excellent BNHA art, so if you like that fandom check out his blog!)

Word count: 405

Warnings: none

He was dying. Grimmjow was dying. And what was Kurosaki doing about it? What was that stupid carrot-head doing? He was fucking laughing.

Grimmjow glared up at Kurosaki through tears. He could feel snot dribbling out of his nose and his face was flushed and sweaty. Distantly, he knew he likely didn’t paint a very intimidating picture. Hell, if the tables were reversed and it was Kurosaki on the floor gasping, writhing in AGONY, Grimmjow would probably laugh too. But Grimmjow didn’t care.

The burn on his tongue was so great it felt as though it had been lit on fire. His eyes stung more. “You…you bastard! You could’ve told me water makes it worse,” Grimmjow hissed. Ichigo smirked. His laughter had died down but his eyes still held mirth.

“Well, maybe next time do your research before letting Yoruichi talk you into trying Urahara’s home-made spicy sauce on your chicken wings,” he teased, and he took a sip of his milk.

Grimmjow grumbled under his breath and reached up to wipe the tears out of his eyes. At that moment, Ichigo’s eyes widened and he spluttered, spraying milk on the table as he tried to speak. Grimmjow just glared at him and rubbed his eyes, effectively wiping away the tears. Ichigo paled, which confused Grimmjow for a second. He blinked once, twice.

Then, it happened. The stinging in his eyes was back tenfold, only now it wasn’t just tears. His eyes welled up, but the stinging would not be relieved. Grimmjow howled.

He shrieked and fell onto his side, holding his head, but avoiding his eyes now. Would touching them make it worse? Would it be indifferent? Grimmjow didn’t know, didn’t want to find out by testing it. He heard a snort and turned toward Kurosaki, but he could only see the blurry form of a person with a splash of orange on top. He snarled, and the words “FUCK YOU, KUROSAKI!” flew out of his mouth, even though he knew Ichigo was right, knew it wasn’t the young man’s fault. Grimmjow staggered to his feet and turned about, exiting the room in a clumsy fury. He didn’t hear Ichigo’s reply, didn’t see the young man get to his feet to follow.

Ichigo sighed and took off after Grimmjow. Despite his amusement, he did feel sorry for the guy. And he figured he could at least convey that by helping him find some relief.

#grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #crack

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

Text

Stung

GrimmIchi fic; Ichigo was stung and Grimmjow doesn't know how to deal with the result.

Words: 535

Warnings: none

Kisuke had felt the spiritual pressure spike long before they arrived. Even so, he wasn't exactly expecting his wall to be blown inward by a blue-haired arrancar carrying a struggling substitute shinigami, all the while screeching "He's dying!!!"

"I'm fine, you IDIOT! Put me down!" Ichigo protested, once again squirming against Grimmjow's hold. Kisuke put his tea down slowly, doing his best to give off the impression he was unfazed by the intrusion, all the while calculating damage costs in the back of his mind.

"Kurosaki seems to be very much alive, Grimmjow," he replied as evenly as he could. It was a bit difficult with the dust and debris still raining down around him. Grimmjow shook his head and carried Ichigo closer.

"Not for much longer! Look! He's got the anaphylaxis!" The arrancar protested. Ichigo groaned and rolled his eyes.

"I told you already, it's just a little swollen. It's allergies. I'm not going to die, I just have to be careful and take some medicine," he replied in a tired voice. Grimmjow ignored him and held out the substitute shinigami's hand to Kisuke. Kisuke looked down at it and frowned. He was no expert in allergies, but the hand in front of him sported a welt that was more than 'just a little swollen'. He could see where Ichigo had been stung...that was the biggest part, and the most red, but the entire back of his hand was puffy. It may not be anaphylactic shock, but it was definitely not usual.

"That's...concerning," was all he could think of to say.

Ichigo shook his head, even as Grimmjow gestured at Kisuke as if to say 'see? I'm right!'. Ichigo sighed. "Listen, it's always like this. I'll take some medicine and it'll be fine in a few days."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes at him. Ichigo stared back at him with a deadpan expression. Finally, the arrancar seemed to cave in. "...fine," he grumbled. He looked at Kisuke expectantly. "Medicine?"

Kisuke blinked. "Ah. Right. One moment please." Kisuke counted himself lucky that Jinta happened to have spring time allergies, so he kept medicine in stock in their private bathroom attached to the shop. If he had nothing, he had no idea what Grimmjow would do. And they certainly didn't need the arrancar running off to terrorize every pharmacy in Karakura. He returned to the pair, who were right as he left them, though he could tell Ichigo had definitely tried to break free. He handed Ichigo the medicine and some water, and he swallowed the pills in one swift gulp.

Ichigo looked up at Grimmjow. "There, see? I had the medicine. It'll be fine. Can you put me down now?"

Grimmjow shook his head. "No. You'll run away and then I won't know if it worked or not and I can't fight you if you're dead, Kurosaki. You're staying here until it's completely better."

Ichigo closed his eyes and groaned. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"I'm not," Grimmjow replied honestly.

Kisuke couldn't help the smile that stole onto his face, but he turned away quickly so neither of them would notice. It was nice to see someone protecting Ichigo, instead of Ichigo always being the protector.

#grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #idiots in love #ch:urahara

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

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Gay Thoughts; Head Full

A short GrimmIchi coffee-shop au based on prompt number 11: bookmark, from the September Prompt list by @creativepromptsforwriting

Word count: 1427

Warnings: mild language

He’d seen him a hundred times, and every time was different; the orange-haired man with brown eyes as warm as the embers of a dying fire. He had a gentle look to him, hair cut short and a tiredness in his gaze that only came from experiences better left unsaid. Grimmjow would know; he’d seen that same tiredness in his own eyes. But that was before. He was in a better place now.

Despite seeing the man so often (he came to the little coffee shop every Tuesday to read), Grimmjow couldn’t help but stare at him each time, sneaking glances in between filling orders. The man always ordered the same thing; a cup of Earl Grey and a chocolate muffin. Everyone behind the counter was aware of his infatuation at this point, and they all seemed to conveniently ‘disappear’ when the orange-haired customer was due to arrive, leaving Grimmjow to be the one to serve him. As a result, he’d memorized the man’s order quickly, and would start to make it without even thinking the minute he came up to the counter. The first time it happened, the man had been surprised. But then, then… then he gave the sweetest smile. It was like watching the sun rise or a flower bloom; slow, gentle, beautiful. Grimmjow almost dropped dead then and there. But he held it together. Barely.

Seeing the man come in so often, Grimmjow knew a handful of constants. The man always looked a little worn and tired, as if he’d had a really long day and needed to rest. Why he would choose a coffee shop to read in for that purpose baffled Grimmjow. The place was a mess of noisy, whiny customers, overly-pretentious teens, grumpy middle-aged women, men telling jokes much too loudly, and elderly couples shouting at each other across the table as their hearing was so bad they could barely hear themselves let alone the other person.

The next thing Grimmjow noticed was his outfits. The man always wore some sort of neutral-coloured long-sleeved t-shirt with a pair of jeans. He looked down-right cozy. With his book, sitting at the table, cup of tea in front of him, he was the picture-perfect poster-boy for cafés everywhere.

The third thing Grimmjow noticed was actually an inconsistent consistency. The man always had a book with him. But it was never the same one two weeks in a row. Various titles and covers passed before Grimmjow’s eyes, some he could read, others clearly in a different language. Some bright and vibrant, others darker. Some clearly brand new, some clearly well-used.

The final thing Grimmjow noted about the handsome customer was the bookmark. Regardless the book, it was always the same one. It was thick, clearly made of leather and painted a vibrant red. Detailing on the bookmark was painted in gold. The edges of the bookmark were worn, clearly it was not new, and it was definitely well-used. The man would hold it as he read, twiddling it with his fingers when he concentrated, tapping it against the table when he was at a particularly interesting part, eyes wide and focused. Sometimes, when he looked as though he was reading a really though-provoking chapter, he would brush it against his lips absentmindedly. Grimmjow’s eyes always followed the bookmark when he did this, and always lingered on his lips. Most days, they looked soft, gentle, kissable. Sometimes they were chapped, and once swollen, as if he’d been…kissed…Grimmjow couldn’t describe the weird feeling that had settled in his chest that day. He’d been relieved the man hadn’t come in looking like that again.

Grimmjow didn’t realize he’d been zoned out until a voice called to him. “Um, excuse me?” it was a pleasant voice, deep and rich, with a gentle politeness.

“Hmm?” Grimmjow blinked and focused back on reality. Only to find the orange-haired stranger standing right in front of him. The stranger looked…worried.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Grimmjow blinked again.

“Uhh,” he uttered so intelligently.

The stranger’s cheeks went pink. Grimmjow found that was a rather nice colour on him. “I just…well, initially I came over because I thought you were staring at me…but then you didn’t move at all and I got worried,” he admitted, eyes fixed firmly on the countertop. “I thought maybe you were unwell.”

Grimmjow didn’t have a filter in the best of times. And now was not the best of times. “I was.”

The stranger looked up sharply. “You’re unwell?” Concern tainted his tone and Grimmjow winced. He couldn’t think, so caught up in assuaging the worries of the man before him.

“No. I was staring at you.” Ah. Yes. Good job me. He won’t think that’s fucking weird at all.

The stranger narrowed his eyes. “Staring at me. Why?” he asked abruptly. Ok, maybe it’s not abrupt of him if I was the one to say I was staring in the first place, Grimmjow amended inwardly. The intensity of the stranger’s discerning stare wasn’t something he was used to having directed at him. His eyes weren’t warm now, but sharp, calculating, shining with a brightness that should have scared Grimmjow, but instead thrilled him.

Realizing the stranger was waiting for an answer, and that he had once again been caught staring, Grimmjow did what he did best in these situations. And that was to be the worst at communication and tact. “Because you’re really handsome.”

There was a pause after the words left his mouth.

“What?”

“What?” Grimmjow couldn’t help but echo the man’s own question. The stranger in front of him met his gaze with wide eyes, cheeks turning redder by the second. And Grimmjow could feel his own face on fire. “Uh. Have to go. Break time. Bye.” And he turned around and strode as quickly as possible to the staff room.

Grimmjow slammed the door to the staff room shut behind him, startling Nel and Ulquiorra. Nel opened her mouth, but Grimmjow cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t. Do not. Ok? I am a fucking idiot. Let me mope.” He sat at the table and put his head in his hands. “Fuuuuuck. I’m so stupid.” An awkward silence descended on the table. He heard the rustle of pages as Ulquiorra returned to his book. Somehow, reading was less attractive when his gloomy co-worker did it. He could hear Nel fidget, could sense her knee bouncing up and down, as it often did when she was trying not to speak but really wanted to. He did his best to ignore her.

The door burst open again, but Grimmjow didn’t look up. “Grimmjow.” He recognized that low melodic voice, smooth and sweet.

“Go away, Hallibel,” he muttered.

“Get up, it’s not your break time yet,” she replied. Grimmjow found himself bristling. She may be his manager, but he was so not in the mood to be bossed around.

“Can’t you just leave me alone and let me suffer?” he muttered, dragging himself up from the table with a glare. Hallibel rolled her eyes. She held out a white napkin to him.

“Here, take this and put it away before you go back out,” she ordered. Grimmjow glared at the napkin.

“I don’t want your trash.”

Hallibel sighed in exasperation and grabbed his hand. She shoved the napkin in it. “Just look at it.”

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, but he did look at it. The napkin had writing on it. A set of numbers. Specifically, a set of numbers that look suspiciously like a phone number. With a name underneath. Ichigo. He frowned. “This is…”

“Mr. Book-nerd gave it to me. Said to tell you he ‘thinks the same about you’. Then he rushed out the door like the place was on fire,” Hallibel explained briefly. Grimmjow’s eyes widened. He looked up at Hallibel. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Nel perk up and Ulquiorra doing a not-so-good job at pretending to read. He ignored them.

“He said…he really said that?”

“Yeah.” Hallibel folded her arms. “Now, put that somewhere safe and get back out there. It’s not your break time yet.” Grimmjow grinned.

“Fuck yeah!” he shouted as he turned to stuff the phone number in his bag.

“Language,” Hallibel reprimanded him.

“Aw, leave me alone Hal, this is the best day ever! Let me live a little,” Grimmjow replied with a smug grin as he brushed past her to leave the staff room. Hallibel sighed and fondly shook her head as she watched him exit the room.

#grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #fluff #grimmichi au #idiots in love

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m3kuroshirt · 2 years

Text

House of Assassins Part 8

Links to Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Word count: 2123

Warnings: slight nsft/spicy, coarse language

Grimmjow was standing right in front of him, so close Ichigo could reach out and touch…and yet he felt so far away. The pink looked good with his complexion, and it contrasted his hair and his brilliant shining blue eyes. Ichigo couldn’t stop staring. And when those eyes met his? It was like he’d been thrown to the ocean, no warning, no life jacket, just the gravitational pull of the deep.

A hand on his shoulder made him start and Ichigo glanced to the side, relaxing only when he saw it was Uryuu, though how the man got there so fast when he’d been across the store was a mystery. Uryuu had a lot of mysteries, Ichigo figured. He was the only one growing up who rarely opened up to the others, preferring to keep things close to his chest. It had taken so long for them to even get to the level of tolerance for each other that they had now…Ichigo felt a small wave of shame wash over him as he thought of how, despite being distant, Uryuu was one of the first ones to try and charge out to find him when he thought Ichigo was in danger. His cheeks reddened slightly. Uryuu didn’t notice, his eyes fixed on Grimmjow.

“Hmmm, yes, that does look good on you. But we can make it better,” he declared. Ichigo blinked.

“Wha…?”

“We?” Grimmjow demanded. Uryuu clicked his tongue.

“Shush, you wait here. Ichigo, with me,” he ordered and dragged Ichigo away before either he or Grimmjow could protest, though something in Grimmjow’s eyes said he wanted to. Uryuu only stopped dragging Ichigo when they got to an area with several vests. Uryuu hummed thoughtfully before addressing Ichigo again. “We need a suit vest. Same grey as the slacks your boyfriend is wearing.”

Ichigo spluttered. “Ack…what? No. he’s…He’s not my boyfriend!” He lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his words didn’t carry back to Grimmjow.

Uryuu raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So you were just staring at him like he held your soul in his hand then because he’s a friend? A neighbour?” Ichigo’s mouth slammed shut. Uryuu rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh.” Ichigo grumbled to himself and started leafing through the vests on hangers.

“Whatever,” he muttered to Uryuu. “He…he doesn’t know how I feel so he can’t possibly be my boyfriend.” Uryuu stopped and stared at Ichigo with an unreadable expression. “…what?” Ichigo asked, cheeks heating up suddenly.

“He doesn’t know?”

Ichigo blinked. “Uh, no.”

Uryuu sighed and shook his head. “You’re an idiot. Also, you’re telling him today.”

“Excuse me?! An idiot?! And today?! What the hell! You don’t get to decide that.”

“Someone’s got to, for all of our sanities. You’d have to be denser than a brick to think he doesn’t like you back. Even Renji noticed, and I know you’re not more oblivious than that spiky pine-apple head.” Uryuu stopped flipping through the clothes, finally having found the right vest. He turned to Ichigo and raised an eyebrow, holding the vest out for his inspection. Ichigo stared at it without really seeing it. He reached out to touch it, but his brain didn’t even register the fabric. All that he could hear, feel, think was about the blue-haired man waiting in the changing room.

“…Uryuu.”

“Yes?”

“I…it’s not…I…” Ichigo stumbled over his words.

“Take a breath, Ichigo. I’m not going anywhere. Take your time,” Uryuu replied. And for once, Ichigo found his monotone and serious voice soothing, rather than grating. He nodded and took a couple deep breaths.

“It’s…not so much that I don’t think he’d like me. I’m…I’m not completely stupid. But…I’m worried. What do I do when he wants to know more about my work? When he wants to spend time together, but I have jobs at weird hours and…and when…when,” Ichigo swallowed and lowered his voice, “when he finds out I kill people?” He looked at Uryuu with pleading eyes. “What if he hates me then?”

Uryuu placed a hand on his shoulder. “But Ichigo, what if he doesn’t?”

Ichigo chewed his lips. He ran a hand through his orange hair. “Ok, but that’s such a small chance…I mean really, most people do not want to associate with a murderer.”

“Still a chance. And what is worrying going to do? Tell me.”

Ichigo couldn’t answer, so he shook his head.

“See? Whether he sticks with you or not, the outcome won’t be changed by how much you worry, right? And are you really going to give up a chance with him? I’ve seen how you look at him. You should at least give it a shot. And if he breaks your heart when he finds out how you earn your living…well you’ve got an entire family on your side.” Uryuu squeezed Ichigo’s shoulder before he let go. He handed Ichigo the vest. “Here. Bring him this. I’m going to go talk to the girls.” Ichigo nodded.

“Uryuu…thanks.”

Uryuu gave him the slightest smile. “Not a problem.” Then he strode over to the girls, leaving Ichigo with the vest. Ichigo turned to see Grimmjow, casually leaning against the changing room and talking with his aunt as they waited for Ichigo to return. He swallowed thickly and forced himself to put one foot in front of the other. His heart felt like it was in his throat and he felt silly; like a child who knew they had to read in front of the class and that it would be better once it was over, but still dreaded it regardless.

All too soon, he stood in front of them, feeling very much like a student interrupting two teachers. Hallibel, at least, had a warmth to her gaze. But Grimmjow’s eyes were sharp, fierce…entrancing. Ichigo shoved the vest at him. “Uh, here. Uryuu said this would look good. He’s like, really good with fashion and stuff.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and lowered his gaze, the tips of his ears burning. He didn’t see Grimmjow’s nod, but he heard him speak.

“Alright, I’ll give it a shot.” The door to the changing room closed. Ichigo looked up to see Hallibel give him a knowing smile before she turned on her heel to walk away.

Over her shoulder, she called, “I’m going to go with the girls and Uryuu, we’ll get a couple tables at the café next door. You two come join us for some tea and treats when you’re done.” And she left before Ichigo could protest. So, he sighed and waited next to the changing rooms, his heart never slowing for a second.

It felt both forever and too soon when Grimmjow finally stepped out of the changing room. Ichigo managed to keep his composure a bit better this time, but he still couldn’t help the way his eyes travelled along the other man’s figure. Grimmjow glanced around and frowned.

“Where’s Aunt Hal?” he asked Ichigo. Ichigo cleared his throat before answering.

“Uh, she took the others to a café next door. She said to join them when we’re done,” he replied. Grimmjow nodded. Then he looked down at his outfit, brushing the front of it off with his hands.

“What do you think?” he asked Ichigo.

“Looks good on you,” Ichigo answered immediately, and then, perhaps because he was emboldened by Uryuu’s pep talk and the sudden lack of bystanders or perhaps because he was distracted by the handsome man in front of him, Ichigo really couldn’t tell why, but his mouth was suddenly bold enough to say “it would look better on the floor though.”

It was one of those moments; the ones where a person knows, just before disaster, that they’ve fucked up. That’s what Ichigo felt in the silence that fell between the two of them. He looked at Grimmjow’s face with wide brown eyes. A sharp blue gaze met his and he barely had time to suck in a breath before he was grabbed by the wrist and dragged to the changing room. Grimmjow shoved him inside and slammed the door shut. He locked it and spun around to pin Ichigo to the wall with one hand. Ichigo swallowed. Shit. Shit. Shit. I made him angry. But that was hot. Wait no. Angry, he’s gotta be angry and oh shit I’m gonna die. I’m an assassin and I’m gonna die. He’s gonna tear my limbs off in this little changing room and leave me for dead. Fuck. Shit.

He was pulled out of his thoughts only by Grimmjow’s low voice. “Did you mean what I think you meant?” The words were sharp, gravelly, and Ichigo felt a shiver run down his spine.

“I…uh…” he stammered. “Um, wh-what did you think I meant?”

Grimmjow narrowed his gaze and moved closer, pressing his body into Ichigo’s. Ichigo felt his cheeks flame up, acutely aware of the warmth of the other man’s body. “Don’t dodge the question, Ichigo,” he murmured, his breath ghosting across Ichigo’s lips. “You want the vest off?” Ichigo couldn’t speak, so he nodded. Grimmjow stepped back. Ichigo mourned the loss of his warmth, but only for a moment. His eyes fixed on the other man as he removed the vest, unable to look away. Grimmjow dropped the vest on the little bench built into the room. “Shirt too?” Ichigo blinked before realizing what he was asking. He nodded slowly, wide eyed gaze never leaving Grimmjow. The other man smirked and slowly unbuttoned it, dropping it on top of the vest. Then he approached. Ichigo just watched, too entranced to move. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen Grimmjow without a shirt, but…this was the first time like this. The first time he took it off specifically for Ichigo. And that was a very heady, power-drunk feeling.

Grimmjow put an arm on either side of him, trapping him. He leaned in, their faces mere inches apart, and paused. He looked into Ichigo’s eyes and Ichigo felt his knees tremble. Grimmjow pulled one hand off the wall and caressed his cheek, rubbing his thumb softly over Ichigo’s lips. “Ichigo,” he murmured.

Ichigo inhaled sharply. “Y-yes?” he mumbled.

“Can I kiss you?” the words were whispered, so gentle and soft now it almost gave him whiplash. The blue eyes in front of him no longer looked so sharp and demanding, rather they looked…endearing, gentle, caring, and focused; as if Ichigo was the only thing that mattered in the world, and the only thing that gaze wanted was to kiss him and love him and show him how much he did matter. It was dizzying.

“Yes.”

No sooner had the word left his mouth, Grimmjow’s lips were on his. Ichigo melted into the kiss, his arms wrapping loosely around Grimmjow’s hips, fingers trailing, circling, exploring. They broke from the kiss to breathe, both panting slightly. Then Grimmjow leaned forward and started trailing kisses along Ichigo’s jaw. Ichigo gasped and tilted his head back, trying to give the other better access. His white button-up shirt suddenly felt far too restricting, and Grimmjow seemed to agree when he reached Ichigo’s neck and found the fabric starting to get in the way. With a low growl, he pulled back, grabbed Ichigo’s shirt, and ripped it open. Buttons flew across the changing room, making little pings as they hit the walls and the mirror.

Ichigo gasped. “Shit. Oh fuck, that…that was hot,” he gasped. Grimmjow grinned and leaned in, his lips now on Ichigo’s collar bone. “Wai..wait, what…we’re in a store. What…mmm…what will I wear home?” Ichigo gasped as Grimmjow kept kissing him.

“Mmm, you said it yourself,” Grimmjow rumbled between kisses. “We’re in a store. We’ll find you something to wear.” His lips found their way back to Ichigo’s.

A store. Right. There were plenty of clothes. He could just buy some and wear them out. Not like he’d ever see these cashiers again anyway. Then a thought struck him and Ichigo pulled back from Grimmjow again.

“What about the others?” he asked, even as his heartbeat thundered in his ears.

Grimmjow rested a hand on Ichigo’s waist and shifted the shirt out of the way, allowing his thumb to rub the smooth skin of his hip. “You said yourself, they’re at the café.”

“Yes, but we should go meet them.”

Grimmjow pulled himself closer to Ichigo, rested his forehead on Ichigo’s. “They said to join them when we’re finished. And I don’t know about you, but I am nowhere near finished.”

Ichigo blinked. His head was filled with a dizzying roar and heat burned down his spine, his limbs, everywhere. “I…me too. I’m not finished here…either,” he whispered finally. Grimmjow grinned at him.

“Good.” Then he dove in for another kiss.

#grimmichi fanfic #grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #house of assassins #au #assassin au #m3kuroshirt #ch:uryuu

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

Text

Kitten Day Prompt

Words: 391

Warnings: none

Ichigo gets a cat. Grimmjow is jealous but he’ll never admit it. How dare Kurosaki get a cat when he has him to snuggle with on the couch? The little fluffy thing keeps rubbing himself on Ichigo at every given moment. It pisses Grimmjow off.

Grimmjow knows. He knows that kitten is so smug, thinks it’s some hot shit. It purposefully looked directly at him and meows after rubbing its face all over Kurosaki. He hates the smug little bastard. But Ichigo continues cuddling the little kitten. And even gives it treats? Hello? Where are Grimmjow’s treats?

He was supposed to be scenting Ichigo--that was his job. Grimmjow frowned at the little ball of fluff, curled up on Kurosaki's stupid lap. Thought about how to get the human's attention better than some dumb animal. But after spending a few moments glaring at the cat while he was standing next to Ichigo, who was still on the couch, petting it with his long, strong fingers, he sighed.

There was no way he could get rid of the little devil without fighting Kurosaki and still be in good terms with him. But if he had to play that game, he would play to win. So Grimmjow did the best thing he could think of: he curled himself next to Ichigo, head on his shoulder and arms wrapped around the other. A silent plead for attention.

Ichigo stiffened as Grimmjow's arms wrapped around his midsection. He figured Grimmjow would be a little jealous of the newest addition, but he didn't realize it would be as bad as it was. With a hidden smile, Ichigo shifted around, and slid one arm around Grimmjow.

He rested his arm around Grimmjow and lazily drew his fingers up into the tangled mess of blue hair. Absentmindedly, Ichigo began to gently scratch the arrancar’s scalp. A low rumble made him pause, but when he looked over at the arrancar, Grimmjow’s eyes were closed and he was snuggling in closer to Ichigo. Could it be…was he purring? The kitten in his lap shifted and nuzzled into his abdomen. Soft and warm, and vibrating with its own purr, albeit gentler and quieter than Grimmjow’s.

Becoming a cat pillow for the evening was not on Ichigo's plan but seeing how comfortable they were he decided that for today it was okay.

#m3kuroshirt #kurooswrites #m34gswrites #backwardswrites #grimmichi #fluff #prompt inspo #grimmichi prompt #writing challenge

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

Text

House of Assassins Part Two

Link to Part One

Word Count: 1588

Warnings: None

“Oi, Ichigo, your boyfriend is on the move!” Renji called from where he was sprawled across the couch.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Ichigo protested, but even so, he rose from his place at the table to take a look out the window. “Looks like he’s going for a walk.” Ichigo had a distant tone to his voice, as if completely unaware how infatuated he sounded. Renji snorted.

“Right. He’s not your boyfriend at all. Sure,” he replied. A bag of chips rustled as he grabbed a handful to munch on. Jinta felt his irritation rise with every crunch that Renji made as he chewed. He gripped his pencil tightly, but didn’t move otherwise. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. This was supposed to be his time with Ichi-nii, but that damn neighbour had interrupted it again. How was he so good at infringing on Jinta’s time with Ichigo when he wasn’t even in the same house as them? There was a muffled yelp and a thud, loud enough that it sounded like Renji hit the floor. Jinta aimed a glare at his math homework.

“Hey what’s wrong? Is the word problem really giving you that much trouble?” a voice asked. Jinta looked up to see Ichigo returning to the table. He let his glare fade into a pout.

“…no.”

Ichigo smirked and ruffled Jinta’s hair. “Then don’t glare so much.” He plopped himself back in the seat next to him. Jinta sighed through his nose. Ichigo chuckled softly. “Alright, let’s start it over again.”

***

Jinta wiped the counter over and over with the towel, not realizing it was already dry. He frowned as he thought more and more about the neighbour Ichigo seemed fascinated with. “Hey, Ururu,” he said abruptly, “what have you heard about Kisuke’s new neighbours?”

“Dad, Jinta. You can call him that, you know,” Ururu responded quietly. She was sweeping the floor. “And I haven’t heard much. Just that Ichigo really likes the blue-haired guy, and the green-haired lady sounds fun.”

“Hmph. I’ll call him ‘dad’ when he deserves it,” Jinta muttered. “And that’s not much information. If I wanted to know something so unspecific I could find that out on my own. I thought you girls talked about things like that. What did you even do with Orihime and Rukia all day?”

The trash can creaked as Ururu opened it to empty the dustpan. “We went shopping. We didn’t talk about the boys much at all, really.” She tapped the dustpan on the side of the garbage can to shake any excess dust and dirt loose. “Why are you so interested, anyway?”

“…Ichigo’s the best big brother. He always helps us and makes sure we’re safe and stuff. Plus, he’s the one who comes to see us the most when we’re at mom’s. Now it’s my turn to make sure he’s the safe one. Gotta make sure that blue-haired weirdo is good enough for him,” Jinta admitted, rubbing more furiously at the counter without realizing what he was doing. Ururu replaced the broom in the little closet behind the kitchen table.

“So, you’ll call Yoruichi ‘mom’, but you won’t call Kisuke ‘dad’?” she asked calmly. She adjusted her hair, brushing it out of her face and tying it up in a long ponytail. “And I think Ichigo is really capable of taking care of himself. At the very least, I don’t think he’d want a child to be the one watching out for him.”

“Mom is mom. And Kisuke is…” Jinta’s voice trailed off, and he realized finally that the countertop was dry. He didn’t finish the sentence but started folding up his towel.

“You know they’re still friends, right?” Ururu’s voice was softer than usual, but not timid. More like…gentle. Comforting. Jinta pursed his lips.

“Doesn’t mean mom doesn’t still cry on their anniversary,” he muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanna make sure that doesn’t happen to Ichi-nii.” Then he spun around and marched out of the kitchen. Ururu didn’t follow him. She gave a soft, sad smile at her brother’s big heart.

***

It was two in the morning. On a Tuesday. He had work in a few hours. I don’t have time for this bullshit, Grimmjow thought to himself as he stared down the intruder in his kitchen. The intruder, short with flaming red hair and a scowl on his face, glared back at him in silence. Grimmjow rubbed his temples. All he wanted was a glass of water. And when he’d turned on the lights he’d been surprised to find the young boy on his counter, looking through his cupboards.

“You have thirty seconds to start explaining,” he stated, looking the intruder dead in the eyes, “before I call the cops.” The intruder’s eyes widened. He leapt off the counter, hands up in submission.

“Please don’t! Don’t call the cops, I didn’t take anything, I swear!” the intruder babbled, and Grimmjow felt himself wince internally. The kid sounded even younger than he looked. Grimmjow sighed and pulled out a chair to sit in it. He gestured to one of the other chairs and the young intruder hesitantly sat in it.

“Talk.” It was a command, not an option.

“…I just wanted to see why Ichi-nii is so interested in you,” the young boy muttered. He tugged at his red hair nervously, eyes downcast. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes.

“…who?”

At that, the boy looked up. “Ichigo. The neighbour?”

Grimmjow blinked. “Uh. Who are you? How do you know Ichigo? And why do you care what he thinks of me?” he asked, feeling a little annoyed that he still didn’t know what exactly was going on.

“…’m name’s Jinta. He’s my older brother! Well…step-brother. Sort of,” Jinta admitted. He kicked his legs, eyes back on the floor. “He’s a good person.” Then he aimed a glare at Grimmjow, body suddenly tensing as if ready to attack. “And I’m here to make sure you’re actually good enough for him and won’t hurt ‘im!” The declaration was a bit loud in the silence, and they both paused afterward, listening. No sounds came from above so Grimmjow assumed Nel was still asleep in her room.

With a roll of his eyes, he replied, “what, so you investigate all your brother’s friends like this?” Jinta shook his head.

“No, you dummy! He doesn’t wanna be your friend?”

“Hah?” Grimmjow could feel his irritation growing with every contradictory word the boy spoke. Until…

“He wants to date you!” As soon as the words were out, Jinta slapped both hands over his mouth, eyes wide. Grimmjow froze, eyes also wide, brain whirring and spinning but not actually producing any thought beyond ‘Ichigo’ and ‘date’. Sure, he’d noticed how pretty the other man was, had admired his strength when he assisted Grimmjow and Nel with moving in, and thought he was pretty chill on the few occasions they’d talked since. But…he’d never thought the other was interested in him. And now that the truth was out there…well now he found himself strangely drawn to the idea.

Sounds of sobbing brought him back to reality. “Please…Please don’t tell him I told you! Please act like you don’t know! I…He…he’ll be so sad if you stop talking to him because of this, and…and…and I don’t wanna make Ichigo sad! Please!”

“Woah, calm down…Jinta, right? Relax, I won’t, uh, won’t tell him anything, ok?” Grimmjow tried to soothe. Jinta’s sobs quieted and he sniffled.

“Promise?”

“Yeah. I promise.” Grimmjow looked over at the clock above the stove. “You really should go home now, ok? I can walk you over.” Jinta shook his head.

“No, we’ll get caught and I don’t have a good enough story for Kisuke to believe me,” he replied. He wiped his tears and snot on his sleeve. “I’ll climb back over the fence and go in through the basement window. Ururu’s there, she’ll let me in.” Grimmjow raised his eyebrows.

“If you’re sure, then.”

Jinta nodded. “Yeah, I’ve snuck out loads of times. I know what I’m doing.”

Grimmjow opted to keep from pointing out that Jinta had been caught this time. Instead, he just nodded and watched the boy as he left the house, scaled the fence, and dropped down on the other side. He couldn’t see anything more due to the fence in the backyard, but he hoped the boy made it inside as easily as he claimed. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his blue hair and turned to get what he originally came to the kitchen for: a glass of water.

Water acquired and drank, Grimmjow returned to his bed. Only to lay and stare up at the ceiling, replaying the strange meeting in his head. Or rather, one particular sentence. ‘He wants to date you’. Usually, Grimmjow wouldn’t think too hard about those kinds of things, but Ichigo seemed to be different from other people. He didn’t shy away when Grimmjow was gruff. When he helped them move, he took just as much physical work as Grimmjow did. He was strong. He was friendly. He had a smile as brilliant as the sun.

So, this time, Grimmjow let himself fantasize. In the gentle moonlight, it was easy to imagine things. He let his mind wander, wondering what it would be like to date Ichigo, to hold his hand, put his arms around the other. A soft warmth grew in his chest and he couldn’t stop the smile that stole across his face.

#grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #house of assassins #ch:ururu #ch:jinta #ch:renji #found family

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