Flash Fiction (Take Six - Part Two)
Jan. 30th, 2011 11:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: Three more today, with the last four tomorrow! I feel accomplished! Also, general warning. These have not seen an editing eye. Beware the random comma and occasional misspelling!
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
azardarkstar
Prompt: follow up to UraIchigo, Lies and Promises, NSFW
Kisuke, Ichigo, and Yoruichi are from the anime/manga Bleach by Tite Kubo. NSFW. Warnings here for angst, mansex, and possible spoilers.
For tsukiryuu
Prompt: older!Toph/Zuko, Toph can't understand how no one saw this coming
Toph, Zuko, Suki, Sokka, Katara and Aang are characters from the Nickelodeon show Avatar: The Last Airbender. Warnings for mentions of hetsex, female nudity, possible language, and general silliness.
For firegirl0
Prompt: Aizen/Grimmjow, “The Hand that Feeds”
Grimmjow and Aizen are characters from the anime/manga Bleach by Tite Kubo. Warnings for dubious con, bondage, power play, and hints of potential slashy behavior.
He's on his knees, probably the safest place for him to be right now.
Grimmjow tries not to shiver, that's a cowardly thing to do, but the chill in the air attacks his bare skin, and the stone floor is even colder on his bare knees. He wants to say that it's the temperature threatening to make his body shake, but that would be a lie. So he clamps his mouth shut, squares his jaw, narrows his eyes, and looks up defiantly.
He's not afraid. He's fucking terrified but he's not saying anything.
Aizen looks down at him, circle all around, and he's not saying much either. There's a look in his eyes that Grimmjow can't name. It's not anger, or annoyance, or amusement. It doesn't bode well for Grimmjow, that's for sure, but he doesn't know if that look means pain and lots of it, or agony that mixes with pleasure until he can't tell them apart. Until they get so confused in his head that he can't tell the difference anymore.
Aizen's still not talking. He's also not dressed like usual. Little more than a simple robe, belted at the waist. His feet are bare, and that should make Grimmjow feel a little safer, looking at the all-powerful Aizen's bare feet. It should make Aizen seem less intimidating, maybe even a bit silly. Except Grimmjow's not an idiot, at least not that kind. He knows better than to give substance to an illusion.
He stares at Aizen's bare feet, shoulders squared, and tells himself he's not going to shake.
A hand reaches out; Grimmjow doesn't flinch. Fingers trail through his hair, make his scalp pringle. The fingers are warm, almost caressing, stroking him from the crown of his head and down across his hair. They pause at the nape of his neck, a gentle stroke that makes a shiver dance down Grimmjow's spine. He can't stop it.
His head lowers. He knows, without the bastard saying it, that it's what Aizen wants and Grimmjow stares at the floor, his breathing echoing sharply in the otherwise empty chamber. Aizen's fingers are still on his nape, stroking the finer hairs, and Grimmjow clamps down on the rumble that tries to build in his chest, too much like a fucking purr for his comfort.
He can feel the weight of Aizen's stare, itching between his shoulderblades, and further down, burning and blazing on the tattoo on his lower back. Aizen's fingers drag out, across the top of Grimmjow's back and he's standing right behind Grimmjow now, hands on his Espada's shoulders, fingers curling over until they rest lightly on Grimmjow's collarbone.
Finally, Aizen leans forward, his voice a wet, hot breath across Grimmjow's ear, his words sizzling straight to Grimmjow's groin, making him swallow thickly. “Shall we begin?”
a/n: *whistles* I'm rather fond of how these three turned out, yes I am. I hope you enjoyed! Feedback, of course, is always welcome.
Four more to come!
For
azardarkstar Prompt: follow up to UraIchigo, Lies and Promises, NSFW
Kisuke, Ichigo, and Yoruichi are from the anime/manga Bleach by Tite Kubo. NSFW. Warnings here for angst, mansex, and possible spoilers.
“You don't love him.”
Ichigo sets down his cup, traces his finger around the damp rim of it. “No.”
Across from him, Yoruichi sighs, sounding simultaneously disappointed and sad, the former directed at Ichigo, the latter sympathetic of Kisuke. “Then why?”
“He loves me,” Ichigo says, and really, it's that simple to him. It's not like Ichigo is losing anything in the process. If one little lie makes everyone happy, what's the big deal?
Yoruichi is looking at him, and Ichigo can't decide what her expression means. Her lips are pulled into a frown, her eyes dark. “So this is a sacrifice on your part?”
Ichigo contemplates his cup, the intricate cherry blossom design on the side – a gift from Byakuya perhaps. “I wouldn't call it that,” he murmurs, and he hides behind the cup, inhaling the fragrant aroma of the tea, letting it wash through his senses.
“Then what would you call it?”
Fingers -- dare he call their touch reverent? – drag down his spine, lips following in their wake. Ichigo pants, bites down on his knuckles, and arches into the caress. His every nerve is on fire, and all he wants is to come, but Kisuke's not willing to let him go just yet. He's far too interested in teasing, in dragging things out, in making it last.
Ichigo's fine with that. Because if he's here, with Kisuke, he's not out there, thinking of all the things he doesn't want to think about. He's not remembering the past and his mistakes or feeling the weight of Seireitei's expectations on his shoulders. It's just him and Kisuke and being treated like something special, something worth more than Zangetsu's power.
Here, he's just Ichigo and more than anything, Ichigo craves that affirmation.
So when Kisuke looks at him like that, grey eyes soft and dark all at once, Ichigo quashes the guilt and tells himself, it's okay. He's not hurting anyone. What's a little white lie? He curls his fingers in Kisuke's hair, and drags the blond down for a kiss, tongue pushing into Kisuke's mouth and embracing familiar territory.
Ichigo takes a sip of the tea and licks his lips. “Mutually beneficial,” he replies, and sets the cup on the table. “That's all I have to give.”
“You're going to hurt him,” Yoruichi says, but as much as she sounds reproachful, there's a lingering heartbreak too. For him? For Kisuke? For both of them? Ichigo can't guess.
Swallowing thickly, Ichigo has to look away. “I know,” he replies quietly. “I know.”
Ichigo sets down his cup, traces his finger around the damp rim of it. “No.”
Across from him, Yoruichi sighs, sounding simultaneously disappointed and sad, the former directed at Ichigo, the latter sympathetic of Kisuke. “Then why?”
“He loves me,” Ichigo says, and really, it's that simple to him. It's not like Ichigo is losing anything in the process. If one little lie makes everyone happy, what's the big deal?
Yoruichi is looking at him, and Ichigo can't decide what her expression means. Her lips are pulled into a frown, her eyes dark. “So this is a sacrifice on your part?”
Ichigo contemplates his cup, the intricate cherry blossom design on the side – a gift from Byakuya perhaps. “I wouldn't call it that,” he murmurs, and he hides behind the cup, inhaling the fragrant aroma of the tea, letting it wash through his senses.
“Then what would you call it?”
Fingers -- dare he call their touch reverent? – drag down his spine, lips following in their wake. Ichigo pants, bites down on his knuckles, and arches into the caress. His every nerve is on fire, and all he wants is to come, but Kisuke's not willing to let him go just yet. He's far too interested in teasing, in dragging things out, in making it last.
Ichigo's fine with that. Because if he's here, with Kisuke, he's not out there, thinking of all the things he doesn't want to think about. He's not remembering the past and his mistakes or feeling the weight of Seireitei's expectations on his shoulders. It's just him and Kisuke and being treated like something special, something worth more than Zangetsu's power.
Here, he's just Ichigo and more than anything, Ichigo craves that affirmation.
So when Kisuke looks at him like that, grey eyes soft and dark all at once, Ichigo quashes the guilt and tells himself, it's okay. He's not hurting anyone. What's a little white lie? He curls his fingers in Kisuke's hair, and drags the blond down for a kiss, tongue pushing into Kisuke's mouth and embracing familiar territory.
Ichigo takes a sip of the tea and licks his lips. “Mutually beneficial,” he replies, and sets the cup on the table. “That's all I have to give.”
“You're going to hurt him,” Yoruichi says, but as much as she sounds reproachful, there's a lingering heartbreak too. For him? For Kisuke? For both of them? Ichigo can't guess.
Swallowing thickly, Ichigo has to look away. “I know,” he replies quietly. “I know.”
tsukiryuu Prompt: older!Toph/Zuko, Toph can't understand how no one saw this coming
Toph, Zuko, Suki, Sokka, Katara and Aang are characters from the Nickelodeon show Avatar: The Last Airbender. Warnings for mentions of hetsex, female nudity, possible language, and general silliness.
The silence in the room makes Toph shriek with laughter, though Zuko is understandably mortified. She knows he's struggling to tug the blankets up around his body, while Toph doesn't give a whit. She just grins, laughs all the louder, and lets them stare. It's their fault for walking in uninvited.
“I can't even see your faces but I can imagine what they look like,” Toph says, between one breath and the next, her belly hurting from the force of her amusement.
Katara probably looks like she's swallowed a whole basketful of lemons. Sokka's about to faint, he's such a freaking girl for crying out loud. Aang's grinning like a fool, Toph will bet, and shooting thumbs up Zuko's direction. Though he's also studiously looking away from Toph's nudity. Oh, and is that Suki here, too? Even better!
Toph's waves a hand at them. “Really, guys, you can say something. I promise not to bite. You at least.” She bares her teeth pointedly, and behind her, Zuko groans out of sheer embarrassment.
He coughs into his fist, and there's a rustle of blanket as he tries to hide, fruitlessly Toph might add because she's used just a teensy bit of Earth-bending to snag the end of the blanket and prevent him from pulling it up too far.
“I...” Katara coughs politely, clears her throat like the Sugar Queen she is, and tries to sound like an adult. “I thought you were with Mai, Zuko.”
Toph knows, without being able to see, that her poor lover is probably flaming scarlet and not in a good Firebender-y way. “That's a long story and frankly, I don't think any of you are up to hearing it right now.”
“For the love of – Toph, put on a shirt or something. Please!” Sokka pleads and splutters, sounding like he's choking on each word, or maybe his own spit. His arms are waving everywhere, and it's kind of like half a decade ago and they're nothing but a ragtag bunch of kids again. “You're all... naked!”
Toph feels an evil laughter bubble up inside of her. “Yeah. People usually like to be undressed when they have sex. Or didn't you notice?”
“Toph!” A chorus of chastising voices nearly deafens Toph's senses.
Behind her, Zuko facepalms. Interestingly enough, Sokka does much the same seconds later.
Toph smirks. “What?” she asks innocently. “You can't honestly tell me you didn't see this coming, can you?”
“I can't even see your faces but I can imagine what they look like,” Toph says, between one breath and the next, her belly hurting from the force of her amusement.
Katara probably looks like she's swallowed a whole basketful of lemons. Sokka's about to faint, he's such a freaking girl for crying out loud. Aang's grinning like a fool, Toph will bet, and shooting thumbs up Zuko's direction. Though he's also studiously looking away from Toph's nudity. Oh, and is that Suki here, too? Even better!
Toph's waves a hand at them. “Really, guys, you can say something. I promise not to bite. You at least.” She bares her teeth pointedly, and behind her, Zuko groans out of sheer embarrassment.
He coughs into his fist, and there's a rustle of blanket as he tries to hide, fruitlessly Toph might add because she's used just a teensy bit of Earth-bending to snag the end of the blanket and prevent him from pulling it up too far.
“I...” Katara coughs politely, clears her throat like the Sugar Queen she is, and tries to sound like an adult. “I thought you were with Mai, Zuko.”
Toph knows, without being able to see, that her poor lover is probably flaming scarlet and not in a good Firebender-y way. “That's a long story and frankly, I don't think any of you are up to hearing it right now.”
“For the love of – Toph, put on a shirt or something. Please!” Sokka pleads and splutters, sounding like he's choking on each word, or maybe his own spit. His arms are waving everywhere, and it's kind of like half a decade ago and they're nothing but a ragtag bunch of kids again. “You're all... naked!”
Toph feels an evil laughter bubble up inside of her. “Yeah. People usually like to be undressed when they have sex. Or didn't you notice?”
“Toph!” A chorus of chastising voices nearly deafens Toph's senses.
Behind her, Zuko facepalms. Interestingly enough, Sokka does much the same seconds later.
Toph smirks. “What?” she asks innocently. “You can't honestly tell me you didn't see this coming, can you?”
firegirl0 Prompt: Aizen/Grimmjow, “The Hand that Feeds”
Grimmjow and Aizen are characters from the anime/manga Bleach by Tite Kubo. Warnings for dubious con, bondage, power play, and hints of potential slashy behavior.
He's on his knees, probably the safest place for him to be right now.
Grimmjow tries not to shiver, that's a cowardly thing to do, but the chill in the air attacks his bare skin, and the stone floor is even colder on his bare knees. He wants to say that it's the temperature threatening to make his body shake, but that would be a lie. So he clamps his mouth shut, squares his jaw, narrows his eyes, and looks up defiantly.
He's not afraid. He's fucking terrified but he's not saying anything.
Aizen looks down at him, circle all around, and he's not saying much either. There's a look in his eyes that Grimmjow can't name. It's not anger, or annoyance, or amusement. It doesn't bode well for Grimmjow, that's for sure, but he doesn't know if that look means pain and lots of it, or agony that mixes with pleasure until he can't tell them apart. Until they get so confused in his head that he can't tell the difference anymore.
Aizen's still not talking. He's also not dressed like usual. Little more than a simple robe, belted at the waist. His feet are bare, and that should make Grimmjow feel a little safer, looking at the all-powerful Aizen's bare feet. It should make Aizen seem less intimidating, maybe even a bit silly. Except Grimmjow's not an idiot, at least not that kind. He knows better than to give substance to an illusion.
He stares at Aizen's bare feet, shoulders squared, and tells himself he's not going to shake.
A hand reaches out; Grimmjow doesn't flinch. Fingers trail through his hair, make his scalp pringle. The fingers are warm, almost caressing, stroking him from the crown of his head and down across his hair. They pause at the nape of his neck, a gentle stroke that makes a shiver dance down Grimmjow's spine. He can't stop it.
His head lowers. He knows, without the bastard saying it, that it's what Aizen wants and Grimmjow stares at the floor, his breathing echoing sharply in the otherwise empty chamber. Aizen's fingers are still on his nape, stroking the finer hairs, and Grimmjow clamps down on the rumble that tries to build in his chest, too much like a fucking purr for his comfort.
He can feel the weight of Aizen's stare, itching between his shoulderblades, and further down, burning and blazing on the tattoo on his lower back. Aizen's fingers drag out, across the top of Grimmjow's back and he's standing right behind Grimmjow now, hands on his Espada's shoulders, fingers curling over until they rest lightly on Grimmjow's collarbone.
Finally, Aizen leans forward, his voice a wet, hot breath across Grimmjow's ear, his words sizzling straight to Grimmjow's groin, making him swallow thickly. “Shall we begin?”
a/n: *whistles* I'm rather fond of how these three turned out, yes I am. I hope you enjoyed! Feedback, of course, is always welcome.
Four more to come!
