Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.
Pairing(s): Ise Nanao/Matsumoto Rangiku.
Warning(s): None.
Thank you so much for reading.
Nanao believes herself composed with just enough charisma and manners to fit any situation.
Charisma, composure, and manners, essentials in her life, especially with Captain Kyouraku. No, she certainly isn't unhappy with her placement and would never consider asking for movement. His own charm and charisma are – admirable. Now, several would claim to understand the stressors which came with being a captain, and how said stress would affect their lives. However, those same were the ones who soon lost their charm and charisma upon taking the position. Her main complaints: avoiding and rejecting his flirting and reminding him to stay on task for once.
Captain Kyouraku is only one of her distractions, though. Her other distraction which requires just as much charisma, composure, and manners is fellow lieutenant, Matsumoto. Her love for PDA knew no bounds, and she frequently found herself on the receiving end during lieutenant meetings and drinking games she never intended on being part of, to begin with. Everyone else would either begin slinking off with their respective partner or edge closer and closer towards unconsciousness, but Matsumoto would pull her closer and closer until she was practically on her lap or elbow fucking her breasts.
While her skills cover most situations, including situations in which Matsumoto involves her in, her skills do not cover this. Matsumoto appears completely unbothered by her gaping which, really doesn't shock her. A harness, lubricant, and realistic dildo sit on her lap. Now, she certainly isn't some prude, and they've done plenty of experimentation and exploration in their relationship, but this is new.
"I certainly hope no one else knows of this," she mumbles and hunches her shoulders towards her bright red ears. "Does anyone else know?"
Rangiku waves dismissively. "I asked for their most discrete packaging and used extra precautions by hiding the packaging in my boobs."
Nanao carefully pushes the offending objects from her lap, pushes her glasses up, and clears her throat. No one knows, but she must monitor her on all drinking nights from now on. Rangiku has spilled far less scandalous things on drinking night than what goes on in their bedroom.
Tonight, certainly won't be a drinking night. Her eyes are glittery with the hope that tonight might just be the night, and she has on that damned lipstick.
"I enjoy order and routine," she begins carefully. "I cannot function without order and routine. I know you are far more relaxed in approaching – everything. I ask you to keep this separate from drinking nights, friends, and anything outside of our relationship."
Rangiku pulls her hand away from her glasses, links their fingers together, and squeezes until she sighs. "I certainly have a big mouth, but some things are better-kept secrets. Its no fun when everyone else wants to play."
"I would've preferred some earlier preparation or warning but have enough energy. How're you feeling?"
Her expression becomes warmer and warmer.
Rangiku strokes her knuckles and leans in for a long, lingering kiss. Her lips taste sour. Her skin is perfumed with lotion. Like every other kiss and touch, her head begins swimming and she waits for someone to cut those invisible strings and allow her to drift away. Then, she pulls away and Nanao is being firmly on the ground.
"I can give more preparing and warning," she promises. "I can give that."
Rangiku does not attempt bringing the subject up nor does she drop the objects into her lap. Nanao and Rangiku continue working, drinking, and slipping into the other one's bed for post-work gossip and lazy, sometimes drunken kisses. It comes up during a somewhat drunk, somewhat sober kiss session.
"I've done extra work all week," she brags. "I caught my captain questioning Nemu, demanding to know whether Id been replaced with a fake. I offered to visit the fourth division, but he just insisted I take a day off."
"Don't transition back to normal too quickly," she says. "You should give him time to realize, adjust, and then begin the transition back to normal."
Rangiku gives her a triumphant smirk. "I warned him: spending so much time with Nanao, this illness could've been passed on unintentionally. We've both received tomorrow off to recover."
"What happens should we truly need to recover?"
"I asked Kiyone to visit her sister and grab some supplies in exchange for snacks."
Nanao sighs, shakes her head and presses her face into her neck. "You're nearly as ridiculous as my captain."
Rangiku, no matter how ridiculous, takes consideration into her work. Rangiku wraps her arms around her waist, squeezing the ticklish spots, and reminding her over and over that sleeping in isn't going to result in repercussions. A note thanks visitors for their concern, but declines their visits, requesting she be undisturbed in her recovery.
"You perform excellent work," she praises. "I couldn't have done it any better."
"I accept verbal praise," she says. "I much prefer physical praise, though."
Nanao does not even glance towards the corner where the dildo, harness, and lube currently reside. Instead, she leans in and accepts that long, lingering kiss.
Her lips are clean, but she can still taste that sour lipstick. Her skin has been perfumed with a new lotion, and she might just have to join her on her next shopping trip.
Her head begins swimming, and her limbs should be far too heavy to move on their own. Rangiku moves and twists her around, whispering, exposing the ticklish spots, and praising her repeatedly. Once more, Nanao waits for someone to cut those invisible strings and wave as she goes floating to wherever she'll wind up. Then, Rangiku is touching her thigh, stroking that scar, and asking she turn over.
Right. She's still firmly on the ground. Rangiku is watching her, waiting, and expecting an answer from her.
"I'll turn over," she promises. "Keep talking to me, though."
Nanao turns over and rises on her knees. Her loose hair, previously tickling is now scratching and nibbling on her sensitive skin, and she shivers. A hand clutches her hip and the other crawls up between her thighs.
"You'll need to spread," she says. "You still have that thigh bruise from last time."
Nanao flushes scoffs but spreads her legs as requested. "What're you doing now?"
"First, we need some lube…"
It actually makes a squelching noise when she squeezes the bottle. Nanao presses her face further and further into the pillow, squeezes her eyes shut, and waits. A hand closes around her hip once more and the other creeps higher and higher between her legs. Her first finger immediately receives mild resistance. Rangiku strokes her hip and chatters about the routine she's planned for next week as she attempts adjusting.
Rangiku crooks her finger and carefully slides it back and forth. It is going much smoother now, and she turns her face into her elbow, groaning.
"I bought numbing lube," she chuckles. "It even smells nice."
"I am not smelling your fingers," she warns. "I am not smelling that creation either."
Its smell does not matter for now. Nanao gasps, moans, and presses back against the increasing fingers which are crooking, stroking, and dipping inside and outside her body. Shen, Rangiku is gone and her body feels horrifically empty. she prepares to object, demand she return, and continue with this. But then she is being hoisted and settled over her lap.
"I apologize for poking you." She winks. "I ask you feel free to poke back."
Rangiku eases her down further and further onto the dildo. It's been slicked with lube, and her nose twitches with the overwhelming artificial cherry smell. Later, she intends on discussing finding a much better smelling lubricant, but for now, she focuses on being eased down. Her hip rolls are careful and practiced, little nudges, which allow her body to clench around the head.
Her head is swimming again. Her limbs are becoming heavy. Then, Rangiku is rolling her hips higher and higher and she cannot do anything other than sink further and further down. Her hip rolls graduate from cautious into smug. Their room echoes with the sounds of their skin, slick with lube and sweat grinding against one another. Nanao wraps her arms around her neck, desperate as smugness rises into euphoria, and she finally floats.