BY : c0p13r
Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 2202
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘Bleach’ but I hope they announce a continuation on March 23! And I make no money off this story



Transferring herself through the solidness of Ichigo's bedroom window was… odd. Her powers had always manifested outward, never affecting her physical self. Yet with this bracelet, she was able to move undetected, walk through walls, and levitate to second-story rooms.

"I made it," she whispered softly as she set both feet in the dark bedroom for the first time. She found that she had wound up at Ichigo's bedside, looming over his bandaged body. He was asleep, exhausted from a day of brutal fighting.

Orihime stared for a while, a forlorn smile crossing her face, and then a shift on the other side of the bed shook it from her lips. Leaning across the bed, careful not to rustle Ichigo, Orihime spied the two little ones opposite to her, dozing on the floor with emptied dishes scattered around the.

"I see. Karin-chan and Yuzu-chan ate their dinner in here tonight." Orihime admired the tender relationship of the Kurosaki siblings. "That's right," she lamented, her gray eyes returning to the bedridden boy. "You haven't been around much, so they must've been lonely. Of course they would want to eat dinner in your room." It suddenly occurred to her where she was. Lifting her eyes, she gazed around her surroundings.

"This is… Kurosaki-kun's room." A modest trace of red painted her cheeks. "Come to think of it, I've never been in here before. The air… it even smells like him." It was a pure smell, like the scents of Soul Society; calming, yet it made her heart race all the same.

She then studied his sleeping face. His scowl was lifted, a well-earned and much-needed look of peace; a look of serenity that few others rarely witnessed…

Her fingertips hesitated cautiously before gliding over the bandaged hand resting lifelessly at his side. She could feel the calluses brought about from handling the hilt of a sword. So rough, and so big; she mentally noted as she entwined her softer fingers with his.

The moonlight, streaming through the merest sliver of his curtains, cast dreamy white upon him, a streak of blue silver across his face. Orihime had never seen him so… gorgeous before. She had thought of him with all funny faces, but take away the mustache, fish-lips, and goofy goggles… Her breath hitched as she touched his face.

He was wonderful.

If this might be a dream… let all be done as she wished. She took a deep inhale, a mewl hopping from her throat. His lips were parted just barely as he slept. Her thumb traced the bottom. And then she dipped. She was robbed of everything, of every choice she had made or would make, but she would not be robbed of this.

Tears stung her eyes and a tress of hair slipped like silk from behind her ear, veiling them as she descended on and on. His hair was soft as she stroked his face, lightly brushing the orange wild spikes. The smell of him; chocolate on strawberries. She breathed him in once, and made for the final inches separating their first kiss.

"Inoue?" The tired voice of Ichigo shattered the silence like a brick through a glass window. Orihime's eyes shot open to stare into half-lidded chestnut orbs. They blinked away the sleep several times before coming into focus. He made a noise, understandably confused, as if he was still partly asleep. Why else would her face be hovering over his? It was her delicate aroma that woke him. "What…" His face quickly turned red after reeling in their proximity. "What's going on?"

Immediately, Orihime straightened like she was snapped into place, and began laughing forcefully. The blush on her face, however, remained. "I came to see you, Kurosaki-kun. I heard you were hurt, so I decided to come when everyone was asleep! I didn't want to bother Yuzu-chan or Karin-chan!" A lie, Ichigo knew right away.

There was an unsettling moment between the two. Ichigo was still confused as to why, or rather, how Orihime had snuck in. Surely, his dad would've made a huge commotion if a girl came over so late at night, seeking his only son for a visit.

"Actually," Orihime finally started, looking aimlessly off to the side. Her smile was miserable. "I came to say 'goodbye', Kurosaki-kun."

"Goodbye?" Ichigo repeated. He woke more, the focus of his signature scowl returning. "What do you mean? Where are you going?" An attempt to get up ended with fresh wounds stinging and bones creaking. He fell back on his pillow, tense and in pain.

Orihime bit her bottom lip as she watched his chest heave underneath his blanket. Her fingers anxiously latched onto her skirt. "I'm going away, but it shouldn't take too long…"

Even in pain, Ichigo detected the lie.

Orihime refused to meet his gaze; the floor was safer to look at. "I'm sure…" Her voice wavered, but she willed herself not to cry, not to shed a single tear and look weak in front of Kurosaki-kun. "I'm sure we'll see each other again."

At once, Ichigo swept up her hand, holding it in his fist so she could feel his passion. In spite of all the cuts and bruises that would pin any other human to a bed, he sat up so that he could face her. "What are you talking about? Where the hell could you be going?" His scowl deepened. "You can't leave! If you're not here…" Now his voice trembled, teeth clenching in a subtle growl. The flashes of the brutish Arrancar Yammy, the state of Orihime strewn over the grass, the struggle of his own strength and weakness. He was finally getting control of it… and it was for those closest to him. His eyes narrowed on her as his breath shuddered again. "If you're not here… how can I protect you?"

Orihime's lips were on him without pause. Yuzu-chan and Karin-chan were still in the room; she had to be quiet. She held onto Ichigo's face as she kissed him deep, giving him all that she was worth and more. She wanted this single moment to end her world, to be the lasting testament to all that she'd done.

The tension of Ichigo's posture dissipated in the wake of the bestowed kiss. Always at a distance from romance – whether choice or naivete – he wasn't sure how to respond, or if he even should! A thousand thoughts ran through his head, but all wound up as one: What do I do?

Orihime pressed, and he unconsciously yielded until he was lying flat on his back again, head sinking into his pillow by the time her lips lifted from him. Ichigo was dumbed, trembling, staring off into space as the beautiful girl eased her hair back behind her ear.

"I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun. I wanted to just say goodbye," she began tearfully, "and now… this." She wiped at her shimmering eyes, forcing her mouth not to turn downward.

Ichigo stammered. His wounded hand encased her smaller one. A weak clasp tightened firmly. "Don't," he began. His eyes were hard suddenly. "Wherever you think you have to go, you don't!"

"I'm sorry… Kurosaki-kun."

She turned. The strength to leave would never be this strong again; she had to take the opportunity now, to leave behind her friends, her home, and him. An aching heart throbbed in her chest.

Ichigo refused. "No!" He was loud enough to wake Karin and Yuzu and made such a clamor to do more, yet by chance alone, they slept through it, even as the bed shuddered and both their brother and Orihime gave a jointed grunt.

Ichigo was passionate, but clumsy; added to Orihime's clumsiness, it was no surprise that his grab for her – an arm hooked around her midriff – wound up tripping her and causing her to topple back on top of him. The bed creaked loudly and knocked the wall, but all those asleep still slept.

And the magic of solitude and togetherness was met.

Ichigo, underneath Orihime, didn't know what to say. He could go through a laundry list and then some of reasons why she should stay, even if she seemed intent to leave. But nothing could sway her like the deepness of his eyes staring up into hers. His mouth moved once or twice, and half a syllable got through. But he was tongue-tied and out of breath.

And Orihime kissed him again.

This was not like before; that kiss had been mournful, a last wish of a life about to be sold. This kiss? It was hunger; it was want; it was need. She did not show him tenderness. For once, she allowed him her passionate flare. She kept his mouth with hers even as she made a soft moan.

Need for air parted them, but only by the merest inch. She would not let her body leave his; her forehead was tilted to keep in contact with him. Yet her eyes had roamed, as if she had become unworthy to meet his stunned gaze. Two kisses seemed like a lot for a first night; Ichigo felt spent already, certain he would not get back to sleep and ponder the wondrous event over and over.

Then he felt Orihime's hand; the hand that was so small in his, so timid and soft. It had pulled the covers lower, and she touched his body now, his hot, wounded skin. She was an icepack, refreshing every stinging nerve and muscle while tightening his skin. At the same time, his blood ran hotter than every before. The hairs on the back of his neck stood.

What's happening?

"Just tonight," whispered Orihime, ducking her head as she finally looked him in the eye again. She was so very red. "Only just for tonight…"

Ichigo, seeing her like this, was already hers. He couldn't explain it, but there were forces in his body and urges that he could not suppress. His undoing had come, and her name was Inoue Orihime.

The adventurous hand found him under the sheet, and a grasp made his back arch with a hissing inhale. His jaw dropped and his eyes clouded over. Dammit… What was he supposed to do? He couldn't even comfort Orihime, not when she was learning the triggers of his body. She spoke to him softly, lovingly, but sounds were all jumbled in his ringing ears.

"Do you… want this?" He heard that much, and all he could answer was "Yes…" All those years maintaining resistance to women; he never thought Orihime would break him, and so easily to. Injuries and pleasure had him immobilized; he was unable to react when he felt the girl slide down, only capable of gasping louder. The wet sound of her mouth… It dragged up, and then down; a slow, inexperienced tempo, but the virgin boy nearly cried out from the sensation.

She had mostly uncovered him. The blankets were bunched beneath his knees now, and she had freed him through the slit of his drawers. Her fingers helped keep the fabric pried apart; a generous aid, though nowhere near as generous as her mouth's giving. She was no expert at this, deferring to giggling schoolgirl gossip for advice, but she wanted Ichigo to… feel good about this. And, as the heat rose up in her face, she decided that she liked this. The feel of Kurosaki-kun's pulse in her mouth, the slide of his length, and ultimately… his taste.

This is… Kurosaki-kun's…

Not much longer, Ichigo's voice hitched until he called her name as if in warning of encroaching danger. That was alright, she decided, exhaling hotly as she took off from his lap. Starry-eyed and out of breath for more than one reason, she set her sights on him, his heaving body coping with the abundance of long-denied pleasure. He was a pubescent boy, but he held pride in managing his loins. Orihime, however, had management over them now, and carefully, she moved until she was seated on his lap. Actually, she hovered, for though her decision was made, it was her introduction too.

Ichigo panted before he worked the nerve to look at her. He should've braced for a shock, for once again, he felt his chest's duties stall. Orihime's sweater and blouse had both been undone, draped over her shoulders now like shroud, offering him the prized glimpse of the mounds underneath. Two white cups strained to support their fleshy load. Before Ichigo could comment on it – though he was sure a nosebleed was a most appropriate response – Orihime carefully scooted up her bra. Out fell her breasts with a singular bounce.

"Ah… I-Inoue," stammered the stunned substitute.

Orihime took his injured hand, cupped it, kissed him on the palm, and then applied it to her breast. Ichigo gasped, for though bandages covered most of his hand, he still felt the amazingly soft, almost plush texture of her great bosom. Fixated, unable to help himself, he caressed the globe until his thumb met with the distinctive bump. Circling it inquisitively caused Orihime to tighten her face while holding in a soft noise. Ichigo watched his hand and awed at its privilege.

Orihime's hovering hips lost their lift, and both gave a sharp inhale when their genders met. His shaft ran along the crotch of her panties, the ridge lining him. He noticed at once the heat and the wetness, but was far too embarrassed to address it. She had been so kind and thorough… Wasn't it expected of him to – Gulp! – return the favor?

Orihime thought not. Just having him here; it was enough for her. She whispered his name again and intertwined her fingers with his unoccupied hand. And as they grasped, she reached behind her, carefully removing the material barrier separating them. They needn't utter a single thing. In fact, when Ichigo did intend to speak, Orihime signaled with a finger on her lips. Yuzu and Karin were still there, after all; asleep for now…

They joined; a slow and steady trek hindered only briefly by a mere whimper as Ichigo broke through her innocence. Of course the fresh onset of tears in her eyes made Ichigo's chest constrict painfully in contrast to the pleasure in his nether parts. But he couldn't ask her if she was alright, if it was wise to continue; she had already made that choice and started to move on him after a slight pause.

He was deep. Orihime had not expected it to feel like this; painful, but with the promise of something better. The rupture of her hymen had certainly staggered her, and it didn't help that she was on top. She had to manage her weight while Ichigo's shaft moved inside of her. Even the tempo itself was a chore.

She rode him magnificently given their restrictions. The bed jostled only slightly, but then, she wasn't riding him like some expert pornstar. There were the occasional and expected mishaps; he accidentally withdrew and had to reinsert himself, she lost balance, tempos went out of sync. The bed only started to creak when, after no long amount of time, Ichigo's upward motions became frantic. "Ah!" He bit back his voice and closed his eyes, mentally chiding himself and keeping reactions quiet. That was not possible, though. A virgin and repressed, he could not keep the pace. Fearing his own lack of control, he pushed himself up off the bed, embraced Orihime to him, and buried his face in her cleavage. The loudest of his moans were muffled into her bust, and just as her hand came around him, he spent himself inside of her. Warm waves rolling against her insides; she hugged Ichigo to her, coddling and petting his head during this moment of pure bliss.

She was so very happy to have him there, in her arms… her in his arms. What the future brought could not be better than this moment.

Delicately, as his arms weakened and they fell back onto the bed, Orihime held his right hand to her heart. She could not do more for him. She couldn't help a small smile; Kurosaki-kun wouldn't ask for more anyway.

Ichigo was certain he would fall asleep almost instantly, still inside Orihime, still under her weight. She… wasn't nearly as heavy as he thought she'd be. Her breasts at his chest, legs drawn up against his thighs, hair lazily resting across his neck.

And then a wet something against his collarbone… Warm, too… Another drop fell.

"Inoue?" he whispered.

"Goodbye… Kurosaki-kun…"

As if reality attacked, Ichigo gave a start. His hand instinctively reached out for her, and he told her not to go. However, he grabbed nothing but air, and his frantic movements made him drop from the bed. He groaned and held his head up. After a moment, he blinked and looked around. It was the early morning, the time of day when the sun hadn't fully lifted from the horizon. He then became conscious of other things. He was fully dressed, as though nothing had happened. The blankets were covering him as they were since he was first put to bed.

He sighed before sitting up. "A dream," he grumbled. Now taking notice of the throbbing in his head after its collision with the ground, he chastised himself, comparing himself to a kid after falling out of a bed because of a dream. He rubbed his brow with his wounded right hand, the hand that had been in excruciating pain when he passed out earlier. His eyes widened. He unwrapped the bandages to inspect it. His hand was perfectly fine. Somehow, he had made a full recovery from a wound that shouldn't take one night to heal.

"It's all better?" He was unable to believe it. "Who…?" After a moment of reflection, he pressed the palm against his forehead and closed his eyes to concentrate and sense the lingering reiatsu. He opened his eyes. "This reiatsu…"

… Inoue…


This takes me back. While mostly rewritten, this was the very first 'Bleach' story I wrote; my introduction to my favorite anime/manga as well as the debut of my favorite couple.  Those who remember the original draft may recall it didn't have the small oral scene

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