TITLE: Trust in my King
AUTHOR: Murasaki Kaida
RATING: NC-17
GENRE: Het, drama, tiny hints of romance
SPOILERS: Hueco Mundo Arc
SUMMARY: Apache knows she can't trust. But if she could...
MISC: Written for Setaginny with the prompt "I wish I could trust, 'cause I would trust in you"
I don't really get the whole being scared for other people thing. It's a load of shit that'll just grey your hair down and at the end of it; you're no better or worse off. Why bother?
So I'm pretty sure I wasn't scared for him when he was fighting that weird non-human guy. Maybe I was scared for myself or something – hell, that fucker looked like he was gonna work his way through the lot of us.
When he came back all beat up but okay, I was probably just glad because come on – if someone waaaay up there in rank like Grimmjow could survive that kid, then we'd all be okay. Maybe not me personally, but...yeah. We had a chance.
It was good that he survived. He may be an asshole, but we need the higher-ups, right? No other reason for it. We need the Sexta just as much as we need the damned Primero and yeah – he lived. That counts for a lot.
A lot.
He stills above me in soundless release. I've already come – he's a little slow tonight but I don't think it's safe to piss him off and taunt him about it. He takes only moments to come in me before he slaps my hands off of his sweaty sides. He rolls away onto his side with his back facing me. The black six stares at me from his tanned back.
It's all so fucked up.
I'm sore. A lot more sore than normal and I wouldn't be surprised if some of the wetness down there is blood. The fucker's scratched me and bitten me and I might not walk straight for a while. And he isn't even laughing about it.
"The...the hell is wrong with you?" I ask, trying to catch my breath. My orgasm had been pain but it was still an orgasm.
He says nothing. He doesn't even twitch.
"You won!" I growl, waiting for his angry response – the rebuke my fucking pathetic low rank deserves. "Get over yourself and – "
He turns over and grabs my throat so fast that I don't even realise it until his thumb is digging into my windpipe. He snarls into my face and ignores my flailing legs as I try to get him where it hurts. I'm only half-hearted though.
When he's alive like this, I feel alive.
"Won?!" He roars. He lifts my head up by the neck and slams it back down onto the bed. "Won?! You think that just because I'm alive, IT MEANS THAT I FUCKING WON, YOU STUPID WHORE?!"
It doesn't mean that. I'm not a dumb shit-for-brains.
He lets go of me and leaves me to suck in air and choke. He sits up and curses me in a stream of vicious cuss words. I glare at his broad back and want to scratch it up – tear into his pretty fucking skin and let him know I'm not just some doll he can fling around.
But I can't. I know my place, and I know he could – and would – crush me without a second thought. It's why he's so cool, right?
Yeah.
I rub my neck and stare at the way the moon highlights his muscles. They made the human chick heal him but he still looks kinda bruised.
"I wish I could trust," I croak from my injured throat. "'Cause I would trust in you."
He's silent, and I wonder if he's even here, in this room. Maybe he was thinking and he didn't hear me – in which case, good! I'd be in so much fucking shit if he heard me, anyway. I'm overstepping my bounds and relying on the hope that I'm good enough entertainment to not be killed.
He begins to laugh.
I don't know whether to join in or get angry. I choose to just stare at the sadistic fuck, my neck bruising beneath my fingertips.
He looks over his shoulder at me and his blue eyes flash. "Sure you can trust in me," he smirks. "You can trust in me to fuck you raw. Then you can trust in me to fuck you over."
I can trust in him to do both at the same time, actually.
"I can trust you to always be the same and do what you say," I agree, but the words sound wrong when they come out. I backtrack over them but I can't figure out what I said wrong. He seems to have noticed something wrong too, because he frowns.
"Hey," I say, and only just realise that I'm still completely naked and just sprawled out in front of him like a fucking concubine. "Aizen..."
"Just shut it, Apache." He rakes his hand through his messy blue hair and falls onto his back.
"I've been asking people," I blurt in a rush, wanting him to just shut the fuck up and listen for at least a second. "And they'd rather have a hollow king than a shinigami one! Someone just needs to..."
I'm appealing to his ego. But then, that's how I first got here. In his bed. Hell, I didn't get here because I'm oh-so-skilled or amazingly sexy.
"What kinda game you playing?" He drawls, but he isn't cussing me out. That means he's interested.
I move over to straddle his waist and he grips my thighs. He looks like the laziest bastard in existence with his heavily-lidded eyes and mussed hair. I rake my nails down his chest and over his nipples. His blue eyes darken and I feel him stirring against my ass.
I'm still hurting but I take him in quickly and easily. I rock over him in a hard rhythm.
I make sure he's actually looking at me – at me, not through me – because I don't say nice shit lightly. "I think of you as my king," I tell him.
The sincerity of it might have been lost, seeing as I was screwing him and all, but hey.
He grins. I clamp my thighs against his sides and dig my knees in.
He slaps my ass with a quick, achingly painful snap of his hand. Angry tears spring to my eyes and I start to move over him again after a pause. He closes his eyes.
Those dumb sluts Loly and Menoly probably do this for Aizen. They think he's our king. I snort.
Yeah. If I could trust, it'd definitely be in my king.