I'm light years
Ahead of my peers
Want some, you can come bring it right here
Can't clown me
Don't come 'round me
Bow down, I was crowned when they found me
"Jaegerjaquez-kun, what a pleasant surprise. Have a seat."
"Like I gotta fuckin' choice…" And it was true, we both knew that, this guy just loved being a grade A asshole. I could practically smell it on him. First of all, just his goddamn face pissed me off. He smiled like a stalker- and I'm not talking about my kinda stalker, I mean the really messed up kind- alright so maybe I'm not helping my case, but the point was I didn't like him. Not to mention, I know a thing or two about unusual hair colors considering mine looks like a badass version of blue cotton candy, but this guy was rocking pink hair that made him look like a three year old spit her gum out onto him and things just got carried away.
I sat down in the chair opposite his desk, and it's the kinda chair that looks like you're finally gonna get to sit on something soft but it just pulls the rug out from under you and is almost like a rock. Not many people in here see Szayel though, so maybe that's why the chair ain't broken in. I didn't really care. All I knew was I didn't want to be here.
Looking around, everything looks pretty much the same as it did the last time I had to come in for this circle jerk of bullshit. The guy hardly has any personal items, and the walls are white just like the rest of this god forsaken place. I swear, when I'm outta here I never want to see another white wall as long as I live. I kinda had a feeling that he didn't put anything up on purpose. Maybe if I had something to look at I wouldn't pay enough attention to his stupid questions. Truth was, I tried to shrug them off anyways.
I mean, really- I did get locked up in this joint with the insanity plea to begin with, what's got them thinking therapy work? They think they can take the killer outta me? Ha. What a fucking laugh. That part of me is ingrained so deep I don't even know what I'd be like if it wasn't my biggest past time. Funny part is nobody saw it coming. And I mean, it's funny to me because I always felt the urge to rip out people's throats but- my folks, y'know? They were so damn sad. It really pissed me off. Maybe it was because I was never a big enough asshole to kill animals. Never could hurt them. Shrinks tried to tell me it had something to do with 'asserting my dominance and subconsciously finding them inferior', I told them my dominance fucking poured outta me as it is, and I didn't do shit to them simply because I didn't want to. But they don't like hearing answers that go against all their schooling. Kinda makes that little diploma on the wall useless, and that bitch cost a lot of money
Anyways, I'm sitting there with this look on my face that just screams 'let's get this over with' and Pinky just smirks at me like he can read my mind and think this is funny. He pulls out a clipboard from the front drawer in his desk, idly twirling a pen between his thin fingers. My nose scrunches a bit at the pen color; it's pink too. This guy really likes pink, obviously. Whatever. I wish I could cross my hands behind my head and lean back like I was at least semi comfortable, but the damn handcuffs they got on me don't let me do that. And you know, these aren't even the typical handcuffs. They're padded on the inside and have a belt that secures padding over my hands so I don't have use of my fingers. Safety protocol, or some shit like that. I was starting to wonder why they never put a muzzle on me since I use my teeth just as much as my fists.
I don't get to think about it long, unfortunately, because that asshole with the smug expression is talking again as he pushes his glasses up his face. Everything about him pisses me off but I know staying quiet and dealing with his shit is what'll get me outta here as quickly as possible.
"Tell me, Jaegerjaquez-kun-" I cut him off. Guess I can't take my own advice.
"Three damn years and ya can't call me 'Grimmjow' yet?"
"-As I was saying, Jaegerjaquez-kun," What fucking ever. "I have a few questions for you today."
"You always do."
"Yes, so let's begin. First, I'd like to ask what your opinion on bonds are."
"Bonds? The fuck kinda question is that? Ain't in jail… don't give a shit about bonds."
"Emotional bonds."
"Don't give a shit about them either." I'm watching him closely, just waiting for him to try talking about some bullshit like that again.
"Do you truly not? Is that why Kurosaki Ichigo is still alive?" He says it so calmly but the moment I hear his name I snarl. It's the first time since I've been here that anyone's had the balls to say that name to me, and the first time in months that I've had the energy to do anything physically exerting. But my blood feels like it's on fire and I can't help the feral sound that rips from my lips as I lurch forward in my seat. I can't see my eyes but I know they've gotta look like i'm some psychopath- oh, but I guess I am, huh? Oh well. Immediately, the belts that bind my biceps to the chair keep me in place, but it doesn't stop me from yanking against them with my lip curled back. Fuck this guy, I think. Who the hell does he think he is? Saying His name in front of me. Saying it like he has any right to it. He's mine. Ichigo's mine. He's still mine.
"Say that name again, bastard! I'll rip your goddamn throat out!" I'm seething with irrational anger but my stomach feels like it's starving. My fingers are aching and flexing beneath the padding that's pissing me off more than ever. I need to rip this guy's throat out. I need to feel his blood on my fingers. To taste it on my tongue and spit it back out again because the only blood I want to taste is-
Fuck…
"Ah, ah, ah, Jaegerjaquez-kun~. We mustn't get so testy." His thin fingers pick up that stupid fucking pink pen again and he's writing shit I shouldn't care about. My breathing is heavy, and my peripheral vision takes note of the orderlies that have walked into the room. No doubt concerned by the aggression I showed. After all, I've been considered somewhat of a broken horse for a while now. No one's heard me so much as raise my voice let alone make any jerky movements. But I don't have time to give a shit about that now because Pinky's talking again
"As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, if you don't believe in emotional bonds, why is one of your victims still breathing?" His question pisses me off because it's the one fucking thing I can't figure out for the life of me. I can't answer it. I can't put my finger on why when I close my eyes I see his stupid big ass brown ones staring back at me. I can't pinpoint why my hands froze up, why I wasn't able to finish him off. He would've let me. That sorry son of a bitch would've fucking let me and I messed it up. I grit my teeth as I answer him, eyes glaring daggers into his that only look amused. I want more than anything to rip one out of his skull and have him watch me eat it.
"I don't fucking know." He seems entertained by that answer, and writes something down on his clipboard. I want to crack it in half even though I doubt I'd have the energy for it. And after that I want to shove the splintered edge into his trachea. Fuck, it's been so long since I've had thoughts like this.
"You don't know?" He raises a brow.
"You hard of fuckin' hearin' now 'er somethin'?"
"Hardly. Tell me something else, how much time did you spend with the majority of your victims before their murder?" It didn't take me long to think of the answer. I'd killed so many people in my past and they were all the same. Fun at first- or, well I thought they'd be fun. But people were all the same. Always crying, blubbering about their families and who would miss them. Hell, some even tried to show me pictures of their kids. It didn't matter, all that did was piss me off and make me want to end it quicker. It never lasted more than-
"A few hours." I said aloud with a shrug, not understanding why the hell he even cared.
"I see." Another series of scribbles on his clipboard. "-And how much time did you spend with Kurosaki Ichigo?" The name causes me to lurch again. I warned him. I fucking warned him.
In an instant i'm tugging against the restraints so hard I can feel a vein in my forehead straining. I can heard a creak in the chair I'm strapped too. After a few seconds, I can even heard the beginnings of fabric beginning to rip.
"What the fuck did I say about that name, huh!? He's mine, god dammit! Mine!" I was thrashing, and I knew it was ridiculous but I couldn't help it. I couldn't help what that name did to me. How much time had I spent with Kurosaki Ichigo? Minutes, hours, days? Had it really been weeks? What the fuck was I doing? Why the hell was I so stupid? I think to myself but I can't concentrate because Szayel's still looking at me with that condescending expression and I just can't fucking take it anymore. I lift my legs up, using all the force I have to kick the lip of his desk and send it upwards. Of course, it sends me down too but that's fine. I'm up in a few seconds with the chair securely on my back but Szayel's annoying fucking face is different now. His eyes are a bit wider as they glance to the door. And I know I've only gotta few seconds left before the fuckers put me out so I have to make this good.
The orderlies start toward me the second my heel makes contact with his sorry fucking excuse for a face, and I feel the needle enter my arm just as i'm being tackled to the ground. But it's not the first time, just the first in a while, and the nurse is already getting the second dosage ready because they know damn well I won't go down with just one. I'm thrashing and I think my head knocks into the jaw of whoever's trying to hold me down, but I don't noticed since the only thing in my vision is the asshole who thought he could get away with anything.
"Say his name to me again, motherfucker! Say it again and you're dead, you fuckin' hear me?!" I don't get to hear a response before another needle punctures my arm, making my vision fade and my body slump entirely to the floor.
Come to find out, Kurosaki's car hadn't entirely taken a shit like he thought. Or, maybe as far as he was concerned it did, but lucky for him I knew more than a thing or two about cars.
"You really think you can fix it? I can ask my dad what the repair guy's number is..." He was peeking over my shoulder as I bent under the hood to have a look, and rolled my eyes in annoyance. This kid didn't know shit about me, and now he thought I couldn't handle what looked to be some faulty wiring and an overheated engine?
"Calm down, Strawberry. I said I could, didn't I? 'Sides, you got the cash for a tow truck? 'Cause I sure as hell don't." I could almost feel him scowl behind me, and the only thing that made me give a shit was the fact that I couldn't see it. But for some reason, knowing Kurosaki was behind me where I couldn't see him properly put me on edge. Yeah, sure, my back was facing him. And there's that whole predatory shit of not turning your back on who the hell ever, but I was far from being afraid of this guy. Anyways, it was just one more thing I was happy to ignore.
After a few minutes, I wiped my brow as sweat started to form, squinting at my project as the natural light began to diminish. Shit, I hadn't even realized it was getting dark.
"Yo- y'got pliers and a flashlight?" I raised my brow, noticing that Kurosaki had been staring at me, and smirked. "What, cat got yer tongue?"
He seemed to snap out of whatever the hell had him zoning out right then, and one of those trademark blushes crossed his cheeks.
"No-! Maybe if you'd give me more than two seconds to respond-"
"D'ya got the shit or don'tcha?" I was smirking now. He sighed.
"The flashlight. Not the pliers." Well that wasn't gonna do me any damn good. Can't very well go touching a car battery's wires without rubber in between me and the metal. No way. So, in a swift motion, I let the front hood of his car come down with a thud, dusting my hands off on my jeans. They still had grease on them but I never really gave a shit about getting my hands dirty, as should be pretty obvious by now.
So I'm walking the ten or so feet back to my truck and I can feel Kurosaki's eyes on me. Hell, I can feel my own eyes on me because I had no idea what the hell I was doing at that moment in time. Maybe it was that whole 'wanting to take the day off' mentality catching up to me again, but I opened the bed of my truck and climbed up, laying on my back with my hands clasped behind my head. Kurosaki spoke up a moment later.
"Do you… have pliers in there?" Oh yeah, guess I hadn't said shit out loud about his car.
"Nah, just shut up and c'mere for a sec." I was staring up at the sky that'd gone completely dark in the meantime. But I guess it must've been a full moon or something because that thing was huge and lit up everything around us. Kurosaki came by my truck but I could see the questioning look in his eyes when I met his gaze. This guy really did test my patience. Why the hell couldn't he just do the shit I said right off the bat?
"Sometime this week, Berry." He sighed then, rolling his eyes, but something catches my attention and I notice that it's seemed like Kurosaki's had something to say to me for a while now. Much to my irritation, he doesn't say shit and decides to get in the bed next to me, laying down on his back with a huff.
"What am I looking at?"
"The sky, dipshit." I mean really, shouldn't it be fucking obvious? "Looks sick as fuck tonight."
Kurosaki seems to be taken off guard by this because he gets quiet for a bit and I don't bother asking why. The weather's nice out, not too cold but there's a light breeze in the air. It's peaceful and for some reason it ain't making me antsy like it normally does.
"You… like looking at the stars?" The question pulls my eyes away from aforementioned stars and to his face, and I cocked a brow at him in response.
"What? Too badass lookin' to like constellations?"
"Somethin' like that, yeah. It's just unexpected, I guess." But he didn't say it like it was unexpected in a bad way, that's the part I noticed first. But seeings how I can smell a subtly diss to my intelligence from a mile away, I didn't bother thinking too much on it before I was already working to prove the fucker wrong.
"Look, see that bright one there?" I pointed my finger up, closing one eye to get a better notion of direction. "That's the left tip of Orion, y'see it?" Kurosaki blinked, then scooted a bit closer in my direction to follow my gaze. His head was close to mine, his hip centimeters from my own. I could smell his damn shampoo from this proximity and for some reason I wasn't backing away. Stupid. How the hell did I let myself get so stupid?
"Yeah… I think so." He closed an eye too. "That's the gladiator one, right?"
"Bingo. If ya look a bit over, there's the other point. S'posed to be him holdin' a bow 'cause he's about to kick someone's ass. Then a little farther down there's three stars scrunched together, that's his belt."
"Sounds textbook to me." He chuckled, deep in his chest and I felt my lips pulling up too.
"Don't like my descriptions? M' hurt, Strawberry."
"Uh-huh. So, is this what you spend your time on? Learning the constellations?" His voice seemed curious enough, but I knew this was getting into dangerous territory see, I'm honest to god damn fault. And I mean it ain't my fault, it's the asshole's around me who act like they wanna hear the truth when in reality they don't. They don't wanna hear anything that goes against what they're expecting, what they're tolerant of. And yet, they still go around asking questions expecting the truth but pissed off when it ain't the right truth.I didn't get it.
"As if. I got better things to do. This is more like a side interest if ya had to call it somethin'."
"So… what do you do then?"
"Haven'tcha ever heard the expression 'curiosity killed the cat'?" I still wasn't looking at him, not that I was avoiding eye contact, but more so because I didn't want to spike his stupid interest any further. He was walking on thin ice and to put it lightly, this was not a conversation I was willing to tread on. Then again…
I could kill him here.
It's quiet, dark. Ain't shit around for miles. I'd been holding out for a while now but I know if I wanted to I could. Right here. Right now. My eyes move sideways to glance at him as my heartbeat increases. I wonder how he sounds struggling for breath. How much force he'd be able to dish out trying to pry my hands off his neck before I crush his windpipe. How would dark scarlet blood look in contrast to that orange hair of his?
"Cats have nine lives, right? So I'll spare a few on questions." His voice cuts off my thoughts, bringing me back and I'm staring at his lips and suddenly i'm getting pissed off at myself. For being here. For talking to him. For looking at the damn stars like I'm some gay- alright, well scratch that last part. I turn on my side so I'm facing him and his face is closer than I realized. The moonlight's glinting off his brown eyes and they cause me to narrow mine.
"What if it takes 'em all? All nine. Still wanna know?" My voice is lower, predatory. I watch Kurosaki shift a bit in place as he contemplates the question but his eyes are trained on me and I can only imagine his thought process is struggling to keep up.
"Yeah, I do." He moves closer. It's bold. It's stupid on his part but he does it anyways. I watch his hand reach up and I don't tell him that the only reason he's able to thread his fingers into my hair is because I'm allowing it. Because I'm feeling generous for the time being.
"Yer a damn idiot."
"You're damn mysterious." He mimics my tone and I can't help but grin at that. I like it when he talks back, no amount of irritation can deny that.
"Maybe I like it that way. Keep 'em guessin', y'know?" I'm testing him now. Seeing how far he'll allow himself to go. If he's got a bad enough sense to push me.
"So what will you tell me?" He sighs lightly. I don't mind the change in direction.
"Ask me somethin' different." I prop myself up on my elbow, leaning my chin into the palm of my hand.
"What's your sign?" He's serious. I snort.
"Leo."
"Do you have a job?" I do.
"Pass." He frowns.
"Are the green marks under your eyes makeup?"
"Tattoos."
"No shit? Did they hurt?"
"Like a bitch."
"Have you ever been arrested?"
"Not yet."
"Should you have been?"
"Pass."
"Do you like country music?"
"Fuck no."
"Dogs or cats?"
"Cats- how many you plannin' on askin'?" I raise a brow and it's like Kurosaki just realizes he was interrogating me or something because he blinks and immediately scratches the back of his neck like he's nervous. Hesitantly, he moves a bit closer and his eyes are trying to decide whether they want to stay on my eyes or my lips.
"Just a couple more?" I lay back again.
"Fine."
"When you said I should be afraid of you- did you mean it?"
"Yeah."
"Why?" I look up at him and he's so damn invested in every fucking word I'm saying that it's unnerving.
"Pass."
"Do you recall where it was you went wrong?" The question throbs, coursing through my brain as I'm slowly brought back to consciousness. It hurts like you wouldn't believe and makes me grit my teeth, eyes scrunching as I blink up at the ceiling. White. Blinding white. I close my eyes again, moving my arms and legs only to be met instantly by restraints. So, they brought in the bed again, huh? It had been a while since I'd had that. But back in the day when I used to act up, the orderlies would wheel in this cot and strap my entire body down. I think one time I laid there for almost two weeks without moving. And only after someone came in to tell me what the fuck was going on did I realize the bastards had hooked me up to a catheter.
This time I can tell it ain't there. And I can tell there's no one in the room with me right now. But unfortunately I got no idea how long I've been out, and any idea of time I'd started to get a grasp on was gone in that instant. All I have now is the question that pink-haired asshole always asked me but didn't get a chance to this time. Do I know where I went wrong? Part of me wants to say it was the moment I took the time outta my day to talk to Kurosaki. Another part says it was going to Karakura in the first place. But if we're talking about where I started to mess up, I got an idea. It's shitty and I don't wanna think about it so I look to the side of me but it ain't like there's anything to look at. I train my eyes on the padding that makes its way up the wall but doesn't go more than a few feet and think about that night. The night my career really decided to take a dive for the beginning of the end because Kurosaki was starting to drive me crazy and it felt like my lips wanted to be on his more than my hands wanted to be on his throat. It was weird, still is, and I hate him for it.
My phone buzzes as I'm driving home, it's been about an hour since I decided to give up the fact that I had an entire toolbox in my back seat and fix Kurosaki's car enough for him to drive home. He called me an asshole but didn't mean it and the way he'd sighed against my mouth as I kissed him stayed with me. More than that, it made me frown. I hadn't even realized that I'd been moving until I was there, leaning down and sucking his lower lip into my mouth. I never kissed people, but Kurosaki had nice lips. He had subtle aggression in his movements. He had this bottled up yearning that seemed like it'd been suppressed for years and I was dying to shatter the prison it'd been confined to. Bottom line was, I was going downhill fast. To continue that trend, I pulled my phone out to see who was calling, and raised a brow at a name I hadn't seen in close to a year. Picking up the line, I grinned.
"Well if it ain't the damn devil himself." My right hand held the phone to my ears as the left held my steering wheel. I slowed down a bit, knowing I'd no longer be taking the route to my motel.
"Whattup, Kitty? Ready to fuck shit up?" Nnoitra Gilga hadn't changed a damn bit.
"Almost as ready as I am to fuck up yer face for not lettin' that damn nickname die. Where are ya?" No way in hell am I going into detail about where that name came from. That one's better left to the imagination.
"Los Noches. Place is packed, hurry the hell up." I didn't even get another word in before he hung up and I was flipping a bitch in the direction of one of the best clubs in Japan. Twenty minutes outside of Karakura, Los Noches sat right on the corner of two streets you didn't wanna be caught dead on, in the shittiest part of a town called Rukongai. Not like any of that shit mattered to me. The second I looked someone in the eye had nine out of ten of them looking away. I liked that about myself, how I could intimidate the shit out of anyone who crossed me, it pumped my ego.
Not too long later I'm winding my way through the crowd of people who are either drunk or high out of their mind, trying to get to the back where the tables are. I can already see Nnoitra, considering the bastard is an inch over seven feet in height and he's got this longass black hair. Back in the day, him and me used to be near inseparable. We were the assholes you saw grinning at you at the end of a dark alley and who'd beat the shit out of anyone who so much as looked in our direction just because we were bored. Kids in High School called us thugs, delinquents; parents called us a damn threat to society. But we didn't give a shit. Nnoitra's one of the few guys who gets me and knows what I do, and the only one I trust not to be a rat. He's also the same guy who'll put a cap in someone's head but was damn close to tears this one time some asshole put gum in his hair and I had to cut it out. Yeah, we went way back.
"Yo dickbag, how the hell are ya?" He calls out to me, smile taking up the majority of his face as I take a seat in the booth, wasting no time in leaning back against the seat. A sigh leaves my body just as the bass and atmosphere of the place settles in with me. It'd been awhile since I went out like this.
"Gonna be better once I get a drink, or ten." I grinned. Raising my arm up in direction of the bar to get a girl's attention.
"Fuck yeah, that's what m' talkin' about!" He slaps the table, long fingers resting on the wood and puts his hand up too. The girls walking over to us and it's like her entire center of gravity is located in her hips. They're swaying and the skimpy white uniform contrasts perfectly with her dark skin. If I were more into bitches, I think, she'd be a nice fuck. Glancing up, I see her hair's dyed this purple colored and pulled back into a ponytail, and she's got these gold eyes that remind me of a cat. Damn.
"What can I get you boys?" A pad of paper and a pen in hand, she looks between Nnoitra and me, he answers first.
"Gin and tonic, sweetcheeks." I snort.
"Gin? What the hell are ya, fifty?"
"S'fuckin' funny hearin' that from the pussy who likes tequila and lime." Waitress chick must take offense to that, because she's cocking her hip and looking in his direction but her smile is gone.
"Funny. I don't remember Tequila having a vagina." I can't help but laugh at how candid she is, and it reminds me how easy it was to relax in this place. Nnoitra sexist nature is showing right through though, because he turns his eye up to her and her position is on the side of his eyepatch so he turns his face a bit more.
"Don't remember askin' you, bitch. Jus' be a good little girl and do yer job, ne?" She smiles but it looks more like she'd rather kick him square in the jaw.
"Sure thing. One barely potent drink for the man with an obvious compensation complex, and-" She turned to me now. "-what can I get you, handsome?" I look Nnoitra directly in the eye as I answer.
"Double shot of Tequila with lime." After she's walking away, I raise a brow him. "Yo, don't get us kicked out. M' plannin' on enjoyin' myself tonight with or without yer ass." He's smirking again.
"Yeah, yeah." He nods towards the crowd. "See anythin' ya like?" Glancing behind me, I scan the crowd briefly but no one catches my eye right off the bat. So I shrug, not allowing my mind to tell me it's because I don't see any bright orange hair, and glance at my cell phone that lights up and vibrates on the table.
"The hell's that?" He asks, but I'm not really paying attention because I see Kurosaki's name underneath the text message screen and I'm already swiping the lock off my phone to reply.
~Did I tell you thanks for my car?
"The fuck's it look like? S'a text." And my fingers are clicking back over the screen.
~If ya mean did ya say thanks then yea, but if yer talkin' about how ya didn't suck my dick or nothin' then no.
"Who the fuck has yer number 'sides me?" Nnoitra's voice cuts through my thoughts of Kurosaki getting flustered at my response, and causes my brows to furrow.
"The hell're ya talkin' about?" I'm frowning at him now.
"Yer number, asswipe. Since when does anyone else got it?" His question throws me for a loop and for a second I remember that just because I have a semi-extensive list of contacts by no means meant that anyone else had mine in return. But I'm playing it off because no way am I going to admit that I'm playing with my food.
~If you have some weird public sex kink just tell me now.
"Since when did you think yer the only one that's got it?" I feel oddly defensive and it puts me on edge. The waitress comes back and I glance in her direction, telling her quickly that she can go ahead and bring me another when she gets the chance. This drink was preliminary and with the way my nerves were starting to feel, it was going to be the first round of many.
"If yer fuckin' around with someone and gave it out y'better not be a fuckin' dipshit." He's annoyed, and takes a swig of his drink.
"Aw, care about whether I get caught, Nnoi? Y'know m' too good for that shit. Ain't a pig alive that's fast enough to catch me." I'm grinning as I throw back the double, biting into the lime directly after and loving the way it burns my throat.
"If yer sloppy, I care about whether anyone comes snoopin', fuckstick."
"The blood ain't on yer hands."
~Why? Y'gonna deliver, Strawberry?
His voice turns into a hushed whisper, but it's fierce in a way that has me knowing he's serious.
"I got blood'a my own! If yer gonna go soft and start fuckin' up Grimm then I ain't gonna be around to watch!"
Go soft. Me? Soft. What a fucking laugh. But I'm doing anything but. I'm pissed and I feel my lip curl back at the mere mention of that. Is that what he thought I was doing? That I was starting to play house? Forget who I was? Fuck that. He didn't know shit. And as my phone buzzes again I ignore it in favor of slamming both my palms down on the table. He holds his ground but I never expected Nnoitra to flinch. Truth was, intimidation wasn't even on my mind in the slightest right then, all I cared about was making sure he never said something so fucking stupid to me again.
"Watch yer fuckin' mouth, Gilga. Ya forget who the hell yer talkin' to?! Pick a bitch." His eye narrows for a second before darting off to the side, scanning the crowd for a while.
"That one." His jaw juts forward in indication. "Short skirt, dark purple pigtails. Looks like she's on E." I follow his gaze and see her. She's moving in a way that's almost off beat of the music but her body is swaying and her hips look like they're in sync with the bass and I smirk. Yeah, she'll do. Her pale skin will look good dressed in blood. I turn back to him just as the waitress sets down another double.
"Anythin' else, tiger?" I look at her and notice her name tag says Yoruichi, not that I bother to call her by her name.
"Nah, m' good." She leaves without giving Nnoitra a second glance and he scoffs under his breath but it's not enough to divert his attention from me.
"Don't wait up for me." I say, getting up from the table. Nnoitra's grinning.
"Ain't gonna come back after ya fuck her?" He's raising a brow.
"Won't be the only one not comin' back."
Weaving through the crowd was less troublesome the second time around, but maybe it's because this time I had a definite target, a mark that I wouldn't leave until the job was finished. She was still moving and my eyes raked down over full body. I lick my lips but the action isn't sexual in the slightest, this entire act has nothing to do with sex but I have no doubt that she'll die with my cum all over her. Normally I don't do that but tonight I feel every fibre in my body telling me it needs to happen, imploring me to entirely obliterate her existence. So I make my way up to her, my hands coming to her hips as I pull her back against me and lean my lips close to her ears. If she's on what I think she is, she won't have a care in the world over my actions.
"Hey, babydoll… What'dya doin' alone, huh?" She's leaning into my touch already, hips grinding back against me. I can't blame her, despite having no idea that she won't get me hard. It doesn't matter because she's high enough to not notice a minor detail like that right now. She looks back at me over her shoulder and her pupils are completely blown out, plump lips hanging open as she takes me in. I've always been damn thankful of my good looks. They don't just help a little, they make my game this easy.
"Mm, it doesn't seem like I'm alone anymore..." She's sizing me up, I grin, letting my lips move to her neck and I waste no time sucking and kissing at the skin. She eats it up, tilting her head.
"Y'gotta name?" I don't really want it. But women like it when you make it personal. Her breath hitches and I hear a small moan leave her mouth. It makes my upper lip twitch. Despite the loud ass music pumping through the place, her voice hits me the wrong way. Something about it, can't put my finger on it. Maybe it wasn't deep enough…
"Cirucci~. And you are, big boy?" I bite into her skin a bit. She likes it.
"I'll tell ya if y'come with me." She falls for the bait easier than catching a moth in a flame, and lets me lead her out of the club. I know if I look behind me I'll see Nnoitra grinning at me like a wolf.
In no time we're in an alley a few blocks down, up against a brick building that's damp with moss and perfect. It's dark, secluded, and the second I rip open her shirt and shove her against it, crushing my mouth to her, the subsequent moans are drowned out by the drone of cars in the distant background. We're in an area that can afford me some misplaced screams. Hell, in this neighborhood, I could unload a clip into an asshole and no one would call the cops. People know better here. So, maybe I was kinda thankful for that because I didn't feel like holding back tonight.
The only thoughts that ran through my mind as I bit her lower lip and ground my flaccid dick hidden behind tight black jeans against her was that I was going to prove that piece of shit Nnoitra wrong. Kurosaki hadn't done shit to me. Hadn't affected any part of me. I was the same guy I'd been my whole life: dangerous, unbridled, a killer. That was who I was, and the very thought that he'd used that word- soft- in accordance to me had my fingers tightening on her hips in a vice. I could feel her wince beneath my grasp but I didn't care, and the idea of her fresh corpse lying there with bruises blooming across the skin had my cock twitching. Yeah, that was how I got off when it came to shit like this.
My teeth puncture her lip and she whimpers against my mouth but it seems shocked and I feel a recoil just as a groan leaves me.
"Hey, asshole, watch it! Ugh, my lip…" She leans back, gingerly touching a finger to the blood that now flows over and down her chin. I grab her wrist and pin it to the wall, smirking at her.
"My bad, sugar. How 'bout'cha suck my dick to make up for it?" She's about to protest, I can see it on her face. She's about to try and call this whole thing off and she probably would have if Ecstasy weren't flowing through her veins. And as I move my hand under her skirt I notice her pussy is soaked already, easily allowing me to slip in two fingers and hook them inside her. I use the leverage to yank her forward and her hands fly to my shirt. Suddenly her lip is forgotten in favor of moaning, and those large eyes of hers are staring up at me practically clouded over with lust.
"Yeah, y'like that?" I stroke the pads of my fingers over her g-spot hard, fighting the urge to drive them through the flesh to hook over her pelvic bone. I know I can't get too ahead of myself.
"Yes… God… more..!" Her hips are moving against my hand but all I can focus on is the blood on her face, and I lean forward to lick it off. The taste is different than normal. It doesn't make me hard like it's supposed to. Instead, the copper-heavy aroma causes my nose to scrunch in distaste and I spit it out next to her feet.
"Y'didn't have to ask." Roughly, I turn her around, shoving her face first against the brick and I hear the smack of her cheek bone against the surface but she's too distracted by my hand to notice. Leaning over her back, I'm undoing my pants with one hand and using the other to push down on her lower back. "Hands on the damn wall, bitch…" My knee goes in between her legs, forcing them apart, and I grab my small dagger from my jeans' pocket before they fall around my ankles. I don't give her time to adjust to the rough treatment before I'm slicing a line down her back, deep enough to bring that beautiful scarlet blood out but not with enough force to do any real damage. Her entire body jolts and finally my dick starts realizing it's time to wake up. She wants to protest the pain but maybe she hit her head harder than I thought because her movements are kind of sluggish.
As soon as my cock's hard enough I lift up her skirt and shove it inside her without warning. She reacts to this but then her voice is going again. It's high-pitched and needy and it makes me want to cut out her vocal cords before I continue. Instead I just force my hips forward harder, starting a motion that makes up for the fact that nothing about her body is keeping me hard. I lean forward, pulling her head back by her hair.
"Like that? Huh?" She's panting, it's breathy and fragile and I can't wait for it to stop.
"Don't… mm, don't mess up my skin…" Such a vain bitch. "My boyfriend… ahh, he'll find out…" Yeah, she's out of it.
"M' gonna do so much worse than that…" I'm not soft. No way in fucking hell I've gone soft. I chant this to myself so much I hardly notice when she calls me on that comment.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I can tell it's hard for her to concentrate while I'm fucking her like this. I can hear the hard slapping sound our skin makes every time it makes contact and the second I stab my blade into her lower stomach is the moment I answer.
"Means m' gonna kill ya, baby…" Now I hear it. The beginnings of a scream. And she really tries to finish it but i'm already pulling out of her, leaving the knife in her stomach as I shove her down to the concrete on her knees. There's tears in her eyes as she looks down in a daze. As soon as she sees it, the fear shows up. It's one of my favorite parts and my dick starts leaking.
He gaze turns back to mine, and when she coughs there's blood. Maybe she thought I was finished, but I just wanted to get her mouth ready. I shove my thumb into her mouth, pressing hard against the junction of her cheek to keep it open as I thrust my dick inside. She coughs again, it's gurgling and blood is painting me too. I need more. More.
I'm not soft. My hips thrust forward, the hand that isn't in her hair supporting myself on the brick and I'm fucking her face so damn good. She's trying to scream, I know it. But I don't wanna hear that fucking voice of hers. Not one more sound. My heart's pounding in my chest because there's something missing. Something's not right but I can't pinpoint what it is. Why the hell was that becoming a trend for me? I hear the crack of her skull against the wall and realize her consciousness is starting to fade. I guess that's what happens when you get too carried away seeing how far your dick will fit down someone's throat without letting them breathe. Not that she'd be needing to do that for much longer.
I wrench the dagger free from her stomach and her body jolts as she gasps and wails around my dick. There's saliva and blood flowing down her mouth and over me, it mixes with the tears that make their way down from her widened eyes. Quit fucking looking at me, I think as I shove her to the ground on her back. Using my blade's all well and good, but I'm more of a hands on kinda guy.
"Pl-plea-" Her voice comes out like she's trying to talk with water in her mouth but the word doesn't get out before I'm shoving inside her pussy again, leaning forward and finally sinking my teeth into her throat. I feel the resistance of her trachea against me, and I can't wait for the satisfaction of crushing it in my jaws.
The second I get the notably satisfying crunch, it does nothing to bring me closer to orgasm. Frowning I pull back, her chest is convulsing and it's making her tighten hard in spasms around me. There's so much blood by this point but it isn't doing anything for me. I don't like it. I hate it. It's disgusting. Ugly. It isn't him. I want him. Kurosaki, kurosaki-
My fist flies, knuckles making brutal contact with her face as purple-hued eyes stare unblinking at the the sky that holds the constellation Orion. The same cluster of stars I just looked at with the guy I'd rather have under me but I can't properly focus on any of these stupid epiphanies because why the fuck don't I feel the flood of relief? Why don't I feel the rush of endorphins? Her eyes are clouding over and I don't give a shit so I hit her again. And again. The side of her cheek is starting to dent in but I don't care, I'm still inside her, still thrusting faster, harder. I need to come.
My dagger drives into her rib cage and I use it for leverage to continue my movements. Suddenly my vision doesn't see the girl underneath me, instead i'm assaulted with visions of orange hair, chocolate colored eyes. I'm hearing that fucking intoxicating voice of his and my grunts are filling the chilled air.
Kurosaki saying my name with blood in his mouth...
Kurosaki clenching around me as I fucked him into oblivion…
Kurosaki's blood on my tongue…
With a final guttural groan, I come hard inside her, but she's long since stopped moving and I barely even notice. I stand up, panting and feeling incomplete. It pisses me off, no it's worse than that- it has me feeling like my entire identity is in question. I've never had a kill that didn't get me off. My mind's never wandered. Not until now.
Not until him.
My fingers move through my hair, bringing blood and dirt with them. I pick the body up and mindlessly toss it into the waiting dumpster. For some reason in that moment I didn't give a single thought to the fact that I'd just left my dna all over a corpse that would undoubtedly be found. And I didn't realize that it was the single event that started my downfall. But I pull my phone out of my pocket and see that Kurosaki texted me before I left the bar.
~Not sayin' I wouldn't. Too bad you're not here to find out.
I think that was the first time I gave any thought to the idea that Kurosaki Ichigo was gonna ruin me completely.
A/N: I warned you, right? Fun Fact, writing this actually disturbed me. I love Cirucci too lmao. Oh well 8') I hope it didn't upset anyone! Xo
P.S: I know I said I wasn't going to be updating this story on anymore but well, I lied. I didn't want to inconvenience any of my readers uwu My pen name has changed though! I'm now FujoHime both here and ao3