New art for me, by me, and a bunch of fics.
Finally! Pr0Ntober drabbles. Mature but not that pr0ny really. Nnoi/Nel/swordfighting, Ishida and Orihime, Shunsui/Nanao/discreet, IchiTats/pleasant surprise, Nel/Ulquiorra/ confrontational dominant kiss and UlquiHime.
Sharp Pointy Things (six Pr0ntober drabbles)
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite invented Bleach; he deserves all the money it makes.
Description: PG--NC-17. Tis now November and here are the last six of my Pr0ntober 2007 requests, excepting the one for Jaina (IchiRuki/sexual healing) because it turned into a longer story. Sorry if these are small atmospheric drabbles instead of episodic ficlets; I didn’t have the stamina for more than drabbly pr0n it seems. The requests were: Nnoi/Nel/swordfighting, Ishida and Orihime, Shunsui/Nanao/discreet, IchiTats/pleasant surprise, Nel/Ulquiorra/ confrontational dominant kiss and UlquiHime.
Warning: Well, these are supposed to be pr0n. Most really aren’t very pr0ny, though.
Neliel remarked that Nnoitra was the only Espada whose gaze had never come to rest on her chest area.
“Maybe he’s a beast only when it comes to fighting,” Pesh suggested.
“He’s a beast in all ways.” Neliel smiled. “I can just tell.”
“Maybe he likes to look at other parts of women,” Dondo offered. “You know, maybe he likes antennae….” Not a hint of irony in his giant face, Dondo grinned his broadest smile “Or teeth? Sparkly teeth?”
“But everyone notices our lady’s beautiful body! Even I can not help but marvel at it, and I--” Pesh cleared his throat. “Obviously, Nel-sama, you must intimidate him with your charms or maybe….” His voice trailed off.
Dondo’s large eyes batted. Neliel felt compelled to raise an eyebrow. Pesh had clutched his pincher chin with his hand and was nodding as if yes, oh yes, he had the explanation now.
“I must say, Nel-sama, that it is my humble opinion that our Espada Octava is in denial about his attraction to Szayel Aporro Grantz. I’ve seen the sidelong looks Nnoitra gives him. Yes, it all makes sense.”
“Grantz?” Neliel blinked. “The one with the glasses?”
It was a ridiculous idea of course; Pesh tended to project his queerishness on other people. The idea that there was something up between Nnoitra and Grantz, though, wouldn’t let Neliel go.
It kept her from falling asleep easily that night. No, it wasn’t that the pair were hot for one another. There was a despicable similarity between them. Grantz and Nnoitra weren’t like other Hollow. Other Hollow’s appetites were advertised in their eyes; they joked about pussy and penis or their jagged smiles wore a bloodlust for battle that surpassed carnal desires. Nnoitra--he bragged a lot about being the best, about loving the fight, but Nel knew that wasn’t really what he wanted.
He’d threatened to kill her a couple times, but she’d just rolled her eyes. Was that what he really wanted from her? Her Death and not her arms and thighs pressed around his body?
No. He was like Grantz, a freak known for saving the bones of his kills in smelly jars. Nnoitra’s pleasure came from a peculiar kink, one that Nel didn’t understand because she didn’t see it often. She didn’t see it in even the lowest Hollow incarnations, not in the lizards that burrowed in and out of the sand, not in the dumb-eyed fish that bred a zillion of themselves in dark stagnant puddles.
Nnoitra didn’t want to defeat her in battle. He didn’t want to fuck her and he didn’t want to kill her.
He wanted to watch her suffer.
Neliel made a nausea-face and squinted her eyes. She dropped her arm over her brow and ordered herself to sleep. She’d just have to fight him, that’s all. Show him her superiority.
Would that put an end to those odd looks--hateful, lustful, seething with spite--that Nnoitra gave her?
She wouldn’t kill him. Maybe if she held her zanpakutou at his throat for a very long time, he’d understand suffering.
That would be nice, she concluded with a smirk that she knew allied her with Grantz. It would be nice to see the bastard suffer.
Nights past. Neliel slept comfortably most of the time.
Dreams rolled her into a future where all wants were satisfied. Bastards were laid low. Lambs wandered pastures and munched green grass to their hearts’ content. Pesh and Don rode Bawabawa across a bright morning landscape.
A fantastical place. A visionary’s world.
A time when Nel would never have to kill again.
She should’ve known.
She should’ve known before they ventured into this territory that Uryuu would be better at this than at kissing. (Oh and he was wonderful at kissing. He used sudden theatrical kisses to stop her from rambling and slow insinuating ones to ask her to join him in the shower and he always knew how to punctuate endearments with a barely-there brush of his thin handsome lips). He was even better at this at fondling, an activity his long fingers seemed born for. She should’ve known. Uryuu had always been good at handling sharp pointy things like spirit arrows and sewing needles.
“Ssh, Orihime, ssh.”
It only seemed to follow that he would know how to wield his boy part.
“Here, bite the pillow.”
Orihime couldn’t help it. Each thrust bit a place inside her that set off her vocal cords. She was already making whiney noises, and her tongue needed to escape its hot, cramped confines. She opened her mouth wide. A lump of pleasure was melting in her throat.
Having sex, she’d noticed on previous blurry encounters with Uryuu, was like eating ice cream. There was a similar frustration and pleasure sequence: 1) delicious taste 2) teeth go cold 3) delicious and more delicious 4) brain freeze.
“Ahhhhhh, you know I have to--” Orihime spine shuddered and her arms goosepimpled.
Uryuu patted her chilled flesh with his big soft palms. “Don’t. You’ll wake up the Takahashi family upstairs.” His voice was pleading even though it was a steady whisper. “The father works back to back shifts. He just came home.”
“Did he?” Orihime pressed her mouth against Uryuu’s sweaty shoulder and continued in a gurgling, strained voice. “You know how loud I am--you shouldn’t have woken me up if--”
“You woke me up.”
It was true. Orihime remembered tapping him on the shoulder and Uryuu groggily obliging her before she could even make the request. Amazing how he could slide into his expert routine on such short notice.
It was Uryuu who had screamed.
“You bit me!” He spoke with breathless awe. “How--? Why--?”
Orihime exhaled a giant breath and smiled. “I came! And I didn’t scream!”
The apartment building came to life the way it always did in the early morning. A dog barked. Tenants could be heard jingling their keys through the hallways. Uryuu’s scream didn’t seem to have triggered the sunrise; it was happening the way it always did.
There was a pink hemisphere of teethmarks on Uryuu’s white skin but no blood. “I’m sorry.” Orihime gave the spot a lick and then a tender kiss. “Do you want me to heal it?”
“No, no.” Uryuu was still rocking, distracted by his own pleasure. He closed his eyes. “No need to worry. That was … that was…”
Orihime readjusted her thighs around him as he thrust with more deliberation. He was getting into his home stretch pace.
“That was nice,” Uryuu murmured.
And that was how Orihime learned that the Takehashi family slept very soundly.
Uryuu never worried about the Takehashi family again.
And Orihime also learned that Uryuu liked to be bitten. He didn’t scream again (he had the sort of willpower she could never understand) but he liked it.
The dreamy look in his blue eyes told her that he relished her passionate mouth munching into his shoulder to keep from yelling. Or maybe it was that he liked the relative quiet.
He didn’t understand why it was indiscreet for him to cover her hand with his own at an officers’ conference but it was perfectly alright for her to make a scene by smashing him on the hat with her big book.
Old man Yama usually didn’t even bat an eye in their direction anyway. And who cared if Omaeda winked and whispered a lewd remark? No one took that big dumb turnip seriously. Pretty boy Hisagi sometimes blushed. What sort of behavior was that from a guy who had the sign for a sexual position tattooed on his cheek? Poser. If Shunsui’d had half those good looks in his more energetic youth, he would’ve been making love with every other woman who passed him in the streets.
His silly, silly, wound-up Nanao-chan.
Shunsui was one of the strongest captains the Gotei 13 had ever known and he had a scar on his shoulder from her hairpin. Ah, it was what he adored about the woman--she was so sharp and fast. Mind like a razor and reflexes like--oh his fingers were barely on the nape of her neck when the hairpin stabbed him. Her long brown hair poured over him with his own warm blood.
She allowed him to touch her neck now, and that was a dream, but there was none of that in public. Why couldn’t he live the dream every second of the day? What did she always have to snap him awake and knock off his bamboo hat?
Nanao-chan, look at her pursed lips now. All he had done was flare his nostrils suggestively at her.
Maybe the day would come that her lips were accustomed to being kissed. An open hand cupping her bottom would earn him no more than a sour look.
Shunsui wished that day would never come.
4. Ichigo/Tatsuki/pleasant surprise
“I thought….” Ichigo couldn’t bring himself to say the word, but he knew that Tatsuki wouldn’t turn him loose until he answered her question. “I thought you were….”
Tatsuki twisted Ichigo’s wrist. “Spit it out!”
Ichigo could wrestle away easily, of course, but that would be rude. Because it was Tatsuki who had him by the forearm. Because it was the girl he’d slept with last night who had him by the heart muscle.
Ichigo felt weak, but for the first time, this emotional weakness was a welcome feeling. It was coated with happiness.
“Tell me what you thought,” Tatsuki snarled. She leapt out from the covers and caught Ichigo in her favorite vale tudo hold. One elbow at his throat, one knee at his crotch. She was completely nude, and every muscle in her tan body seemed ready for battle.
She was so gorgeous that Ichigo forgot the question. “Huh?”
“Are you retarded? Don’t tell me that sex makes you stupid because if that’s the case, I’m not doing it with you again.”
“Huh?” Damn. Ichigo bit the inside of his cheek when he realized he’d just repeated himself. “Why are you being so … cranky?” Moments ago Tatsuki had looked rosy and content. Ichigo had congratulated himself for her series of flailing, rapid-fire orgasms. What demanding little athlete like Tatsuki wouldn’t be thrilled with a super-powered-beyond-all-humans partner?
Maybe she was an impossible customer.
“What you said was I never thought this would happen.”
“I said that?”
“Like thirty seconds ago, Ichigo! I never thought this would happen--not with Tatsuki is what you said. What? Did you think I was frigid?”
“No, no, no,” Ichigo said. “No one in his right mind would ever think that about you.”
“Then what?” Tatsuki butted her knee against Ichigo’s groin. It was just a warning gesture, not a forceful hit. He was soft there when her knee impacted but after a second or two of pressure, his cock wiggled to life.
“Damn,” Tatsuki said. “Again?”
“I’m just being normal,” Ichigo said, even though he felt anything but. His heart felt swollen; happiness was a weird thing. “I’m just a normal guy.”
“What do you mean by that?” Tatsuki pressed her knee harder against Ichigo’s stiffening arousal. “Do you mean that I’m NOT normal?”
He loved her. Even like this. Even as she threatened to shove his balls into his stomach. She was insecure about something. She didn’t have to be.
“You’re beyond normal,” Ichigo said with his lips twitching. He didn’t want to smile too broadly or she really might hurt him. “You’re great. You’re fantastic. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re … you know… Maybe it’s the martial arts training…” Saying the words embarrassed him even though nothing else about this moment did. “You’re great in bed.” Ichigo felt a crazy heat rising in his chest. He was going to have to kiss her soon. “I guess I was surprised because….”
Should he tell her?
“What?” Her voice was breathy.
“I thought you were a lesbian,” Ichigo said.
He kissed her before she could respond. He rolled her onto her back and her hands swept into his hair. When she came up for air, she looked infinitely relaxed.
“Oh that. Everybody thinks that,” she said in a resigned voice. “And here I thought you….” She looked thoughtful.
“What?” What could she have possibly thought? Did this mean she wondered about him much before today? Well, she couldn’t have thought he was gay. She’d seen him standing next to Ishida. Ishida’s mere presence brought up the heterosexuality points of every other male in a room.
“Yeah?” He loved how bright her eyes were, how unusually soft.
“I thought you were this big stupid kid.” She kissed him with her fingers pressing into his cheeks and her knees digging into his sides.
While their tongues loved one another, Ichigo considered that she had it quite right: he had been a big stupid kid for not having noticed Tatsuki this way before. He wasn’t going to be stupid anymore.
5. Nel/Ulquiorra/confrontational dominant kiss
A bunch of boys who like to play with swords. The Espada didn’t impress Neliel. Boasting, challenging, calling one another basura. Not one of them seemed to have the capacity for patient self-appraisal that Neliel had observed in lower-ranked beings. It seemed like the Espada had been chosen for arrogance alone.
But arrogance couldn’t all that there was to them; Neliel had found her way into the Espada because she was truly strong. Truly strong meant being smart in battle--detached, wary, restrained. These Espada, especially that awful Nnoitra, ran around and picked fights and did brutal stupid things to one another that didn’t seem to serve towards honing skill or developing talent.
Neliel couldn’t wait for that dumbass Nnoitra to lose his second eye.
Aaroniero piqued her interest for a while; she liked the elegant way he carried himself, he was tall and lean, and she imagined a dashingly handsome face behind the mask. But then he had sat next to her for one meeting and she could hear the gurgling rumble behind it. Gross.
The fourth Espada snorted and harrumphed a lot but he was the most quiet of the bunch (next to Aaroniero who walked around not speaking much but nonetheless emanating that septic tank sound). After some time of staring at his face across the conference table, it seemed less pinched and haughty. The streaks on his face had a pleasant symmetry. They reminded Neliel of the spots on her own. Ulquiorra was … as pretty as she was, actually.
Then his intelligence became obvious. He had a melodic, sonorous voice something like Pesh’s but it was amazing how a little attitude made it super-masculine. There was something behind Ulquiorra’s disdain for everybody after all; he was the coolest of the lot.
Cool, yes. Maybe too cool. Neliel wanted to find out if the Arrancar had any passion.
“Hey there,” she said approaching him in the hallway. She liked to flash her broadest smile at him. Other Espada would return her smile with hints of their own; their eyes liked to wander her body.
“Cuatro Espada!” She said as she came closer. Sometimes he ignored people but if she raised her voice, he couldn’t very well do that and still look cool. “Do you have any teeth, Cuatro Espada? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile?”
“Neliel,” he said and acknowledged her by nodding slightly. He was always polite. Polite in that way that said he didn’t want to waste the energy on you to be rude.
He intended to keep on walking but she didn’t let him. With a boost of sonido and her palms spread to show that she carried no weapon and meant no violence, she stood directly before him, blocking his path.
He was smaller than her--his eyes level with her nipples. He faced her nearness of her voluptuousness with a solemn indifference and raised his gaze. There was no curiosity in his green pupils.
She didn’t know how else to test him. She leaned over, put her palms on either side of his cheeks and kissed him square on the lips.
She thought he’d feel like ice but he didn’t. His face had a normal temperature.
Neliel didn’t know what to expect from the kiss--resistance, signs of arousal, his hands on her upper arms, his lips struggling to say something? There was none of that.
It was like kissing a wall.
Nonetheless she pressed harder against those rock-hard lips and when there was still no response, not even the slightest intake of breath in surprise, she pulled away.
He was staring back at her, unfazed. “What is the meaning of this?” He asked as casually as if he were asking for a file number or the time of day.
“Never mind,” said Neliel and she walked away, not looking back to see if there was a delayed reaction in the Espada.
She knew that he had to have controlled himself to not even show an eyelash of interest in her kissing him. It wasn’t natural to not even blink or flinch. She told herself that she was at least worthy of his efforts to appear unmoved.
Because he hadn’t been unmoved. She didn’t know how she knew that but she knew that.
Caja negacion reminded him of being alive. Of a time when he had been powerless. A time not worth remembering, but the absence of Hueco Mundo oppressed him from all sides with a fatiguing banality.
The banality of the Living, the banality of the Dead. Las Noches was banal too but Aizen had endowed Hueco Mundo with an icy elegance, if a misplaced sense of purpose. Ulquiorra didn’t believe there was any point to Aizen-sama’s quest for power, no point to the exotic architecture of the palaces but at least the high ceilings and sprawling walls kept out the desert grime and heat.
It was stuffy in here.
Life had been just as suffocating. He had wanted to break his body’s confines even then. He had wanted to tear past his own flesh, pull his head off, kill his weaknesses and desires….
Ulquiorra’s eyeballs rolled back and forth under their lids. Even his eyelids felt oppressive, as if hierro skin had a sudden weight. The good thing about an Arrancar body was that it didn’t feel Hollow pain. Being a Hollow had its advantages over humanity--power, unbreakable teeth, the ability to fly--but it had hurt. Being human had no advantages except….
In his last human incarnation, Ulquiorra had been a slight, unexceptional man. Someone like Inoue Orihime would not have been afraid of him. She didn’t seem afraid now, but if he were to show her a hint of his true power, she would….
He wanted to hear her scream and yet he didn’t want to hear her scream.
Screaming when you live inside a human body does no good. Scatters the birds. Chafes your throat.
If he screamed now, the walls would not break.
But if Inoue Orihime screamed….
If the woman screamed…..
Ulquiorra lifted his thick eyelids and forced himself to look at the blank wall facing him. It was gray, the same color as the inside of his lids but this gray didn’t reflect his own intelligence back at him the way blood-filled spirit flesh had. He was trapped. Lost inside nothingness.
If Inoue Orihime were to scream, something, Ulquiorra was certain, something in the huge banal universe would break.
Something would disintegrate into tiny sharp slivers of gray.
Ulquiorra shut his eyes again.
Would he still be gray if he broke into pieces?
Probably not. The woman had the power to change things. Aizen-sama knew that, and that was why he wanted her.
Blank wall, past lives, nothing but resistance to his own resistance on all sides. Ulquiorra breathed in and out with measured patience. It was a good thing that he was patient. It was a good thing that he had no desires.
That meant he would never change.
VOTING REMINDER: Looky! 26 sweet Ishida and Orihime fics waiting for you to read them. Linked for your convenienceI in this one post: you can vote over here in the debbiechan is dying absolutely dying for IshiHime Fanfic Contest.
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