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Fun with Boy and Arrow Boy	By : debbiechan Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female Views: 3262 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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- 1-Fun with Boy and Arrow Boy
- 1
Fun with Bow and Arrow Boy

(Ishida Smut Requests)
by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite created these characters, Bleach owns my soul, and Ishida Uryuu visits on the weekends even though I do not have legal custody of him.

These drabbles were written in answer to my own smut challenge:

Give me a Bleach character and a one/two word prompt and I'll write as smutty a drabble as I can with your character and bow-and-arrow boy. I'll do anyone but Ryuuken.... *squirms*
Standard warnings for sexual content, manga spoilers, characters not in keeping with your idealized expectations and the possibility of misidentified eye and hair colorings.

1.
Ulquiorra/Ishida + simplistic
for Shinigamikender

Neither took eyes off the other.
The Arrancar�s face was expressionless, and the Quincy�s was defiant.
Finally, because the Quincy would not curse or hiss "stop" or even breathe loudly, Ulquiorra said--in as a flat a voice as he could manage while riding such a tight, resistant ass--"It hurts, doesn�t it?"
"It doesn�t," said the Quincy, and his breath rushed out with the words, as if he had been holding back any expression of pain.
Ulquiorra did not believe him. "Yes it does, but it won�t soon."
The Arrancar�s hips, no wider than the Quincy�s but even paler, even more fragile-seeming, jutted forward, and the Quincy�s legs, which were roped to the ceiling and spread apart in a perfect V, strained against the new angle of penetration. There was no fucking for a moment. "There," said Ulquiorra. "I don�t want to be lulled to sleep by human muscles. Summon your power there."
The Quincy�s eyes still defied him.
Ulquiorra resumed the fucking--as slow as before but each jab harder. Same pace but hips punching forward in a brittle, more cruel way. The Quincy�s arms were cinched by black ropes to opposite walls of the room so that the boy�s torso looked like a cross. His arms began to shudder.
"You�re starting," Ulquiorra said. "You�re starting to redirect your pitiful defiance to one place." He punctuated his meaning with a deep thrust. "One place."
The Arrancar broke the staring contest and threw his head back. His black hair swept past his shoulderblades, and he lifted his arms and posed them over his head, fingers lightly clasped. His skin was changing color, a faint purple flush spreading across his chest and abdomen. His nipples stuck out, hard and dark.
"You�re resisting like human trash," Ulquiorra said, "and you�re going to finish too soon like human trash. I know it burns. Let go." Ulquiorra inhaled deeply. "If you don�t let your power go, I will tear right through you."
When the Arrancar�s eyes met the Quincy�s again, he saw the pleasure welling there.

The Quincy�s eyes were wincing, top black eyelashes stuck together and the bottom ones beaded with tears.
"You�re going to burst apart like some simplistic life form unless you give in, Quincy."
The Quincy bared his teeth.
"Like a deep water fish brought too quickly to the surface of its ocean." Ulquiorra rolled his neck from shoulder to shoulder. "Do you want to die like that, Quincy?"
The boy�s body jolted beneath him, and just like that, his arms were torn from their bindings. The Quincy let out a low, hard sigh, and blue spirit power began to spiral around his limbs.
"That�s right," said Ulquiorra. "The more your reiatsu grows, the more you will enjoy this."
And the Quincy flung his arms around the slender Arrancar, opened his mouth against the bluish white neck, dug his fingers into cold flesh.
"It�s my power," Ulquiorra explained, his hands combing through the Quincy�s dark hair. His voice was gentle but triumphant. "It feeds yours, but then�." Ulquiorra closed his eyes as the Quincy�s teeth ran lightly across his jaw. "You want nothing else but to keep my power alive."

2.
Mugen (from Samurai Champloo!)/Ishida + WTF?
for laurabryannan

Green trees. Blue sky. A spicy smell like old clothes.
This time Mugen had made it beyond the upside-down mirror world, but for all the similarities between Life and Wherever the Hell he was now, it was like escaping Death again.
Or was it?
The boy beneath him, for one thing, wasn�t Jin. He looked a lot like him, though--down to the two stupid flaps of black hair over each ear and the glasses glinting with each thrust. Who else in all the layers of heaven and earth would wear glasses while--? Then it occurred to Mugen that this thin-faced lookalike might be Jin�s progeny.
"What the FUCK," Mugen gasped while the boy�s hips rose against his, "is going on here?"
"Your style," the boy managed to say between his hard breaths. "Your style�" He had a high-bred, pompous ass voice. "Your style is erratic, and you � you must be chafing your palms holding yourself up like that."
Mugen noticed that his hands were rubbing against the pebbled ground with each thrust. "What happened? Why am I fucking a little snot like you? And why are we doing it in fucking gravel?"
"I seem�" The Jin lookalike put large white hands around Mugen�s wrists. "I seem to have a penchant for sword-wielding buffoons�" The boy�s nostrils flared. High-bred looks, a long handsome face. He looked like Jin but acted snottier. "You remind me," he breathed--eyes narrowing as Mugen thrust harder--"of someone� a rival, a fighter with no common sense."
Nearby, a tropical bird was singing. The song sounded lonely but Mugen understood that it was a song about the bird�s own colors, it�s own aesthetics and identity.
"So � you fight?" Mugen felt his hands being raised to the boy�s cheeks. It felt like cupping stream water to touch those cheeks--they were that soft. "How old are you--twelve?"
The bird�s eye was bright and intent on Mugen. Mugen knew he was going back. Who knows--maybe this time he was going through?
"You�re dead," Mugen announced to the boy. And it was clear that the boy was--why else would he be so clean and white? And as soft as a ghost?
At that moment, Mugen fell through the Jin lookalike, felt his own grimy body plummet past the boy, through the gravel, across layers and layers of what was and what wasn�t.
And the only thing that made any sense was his own yearning, his stubborn erection preceding the rest of his body as he fell.

3.
Matsumoto/Ishida + bursting seams
for megaminoeien

"It�s gorgeous," Matsumoto-san said of her new dress, and as she lifted her arms to rhapsodize further, the stitching came apart at the sides.
"Oh no!" she wailed, but the stitches only continued to burst apart. It was a zipping sound that ran past her hips and knees in a second, and then one piece of fabric fluttered to the ground in front of her and one fell away behind her.
It was true. Captain Matsumoto did not wear underwear. She was bare-naked, so Ishida forced himself to meet her eyes--eyes that were apologetic but unashamed. "You see? You should have taken measurements like I asked you to." She smiled, the mole at the corner of her face looking like an M&M candy and her hair shinier than ever before.
Ishida had not wanted to get close to her. The very idea of wrapping measuring tape around those breasts! He had taken the measurements from a school uniform that was (as everyone knew!) too small for her. Too small but designed of a durable fabric, and so the material Ishida had chosen for the party dress must have been too fine--
"No problem, right?" She was still smiling. "Just take proper measurements now."
"Now?" Was that his own voice? How was it that he could form words at a time like this?
"You�re sweet," she said. "Ichigo has a conniption if I take my shirt off in front of him, and here you are being such a grown-up about it all."
Ishida didn�t know if what he did next would be considered very mature or not; he just knew that it was something Kurosaki wouldn�t do. He walked towards Matsumoto-san and took her breasts in his hands.
They were in Inoue�s room. They were alone together for who knows how much longer. Ishida bent down and licked the tip of one round nipple. His tongue laved the deep cleft between her breasts (a salty taste), and his hands squeezed both breasts.
"Don�t stop," she whispered, and so he didn�t. He stood breathing hard against her neck until he found the will to lower his lips to a nipple again, this time taking as much of the breast as he could in his mouth. Deep sucking. She gasped. She grabbed his head and held it while he rolled her flesh inside his mouth. It was gigai flesh but it didn�t matter. The pleasure was real.
The pleasure was real, and so had the choice been. There was still time to stop, though, and so Ishida dropped the breast out of his mouth, lay his cheek against her heaving breaths, and exhaled in a hard, defeated way. The two stood like that for a long time.
"This is not going to continue," Ishida said. "This can not lead anywhere � rational."
"You�re right," she said. She sounded humbled and sorry. "Taking my blouse off in front of human boys--"
"Please don�t stop being the way you are," he said.
Her kiss on his forehead closed the subject and erased the wrongness.
Minutes later, Matsumoto-san was dressed, and Ishida was writing down her true measurements in a notepad. He felt light, free, as if he had measured up to his own standards somehow and yet not proved himself to be a Kurosaki.
And no one else but Matsumoto-san would know that.

4.
Shinji/Ishida + startled
for Quaedam

"Your fashion sense is off a couple decades," the Quincy said. "There�s retro and then there�s ridiculous."
"Your fashion sense is off by a couple thousand years," said the Visored. "There are more crosses in this apartment than in the Catacombs."
"They�re Quincy crosses. They have a classical significance because our clan first used them to act as vectors for spirit power and then--"
"Crosses on your textbook dustcovers? That�s sorta schoolgirlish, wouldn�t you say?" Hirako Shinji picked up a pencil holder emblazoned with the same blue symbology stamped on the pencils themselves. "Do you order Quincy decals from some crafts supply place online or do you make them yourself? The curtains too--these are new. Or else I didn�t notice the trimming before."
Ishida Uryuu wanted nothing more than to talk about his crafts projects but he knew he was being toyed with. "Why are you here?" he asked coldly.
"Why else would I be here?" said Hirako. "To have fun with bow and arrow boy, of course!"
"I don�t trust you, and I never will," said Ishida. "The Visored have been playing hide and seek with their agendas long enough, and I--"
Hirako�s face was next to Ishida�s before the Quincy could even act startled. "You�re crazy about me," Hirako said. "Crazy about my power and my mind."
"You�re delusional."
"You�re beautiful."
Ishida always lost when Hirako�s face was this near. Maybe he began to lose each time Hirako�s face appeared at the window, but the ritual banter encouraged the Quincy�s fading belief that the two were still at odds somehow, that this wasn�t something else.
Clothes came off, and Ishida rubbed his face against Hirako�s. Their faces were both so thin that their cheekbones scraped and hurt. Sex, thought Ishida. This is just about sex. And he didn�t feel weak or ashamed because Hirako liked to take those very adjectives off Ishida�s plate and swallow them whole. Hirako--lying there moaning and whimpering and writhing so helplessly. Was it an act or was the Visored creature � a bona fide femme? Shameful or shameless? This way only with Ishida or with anyone else?
Grinding his body against Hirako�s, pinching Hirako�s nipples with well-kept, nice schoolboy nails, Ishida didn�t need Quincy powers to feel powerful. He didn�t need to be bound to the thrilling responsibility of protecting the innocent.
There was nobody innocent here.

5.

Hollow Ichigo/Ishida + chocolate

for rweon

The battle had been worse than grueling. Ishida had not known if he was fighting Kurosaki or a Hollow possessing Kurosaki, but that didn�t matter now. His opponent was dead and had been lying on the snow for hours.
Ishida expected Kurosaki�s human face to return or maybe for the masked dead thing to disintegrate like a proper Hollow, but the body lay there--ugly and untouched by magic. Its wounds were dried to ice now, and its blood looked like a veneer of cracking chocolate on black clothes, on exposed parts of humanish skin.
Horror and guilt accompanied Ishida into sleep--or was he dying in the snow? It was only fitting that he should die, having killed the Shinigami who he once saved--or was it having killed the Hollow who would destroy that Shinigami? Either way, Death was too slow in coming, and for once in his life, Ishida felt impatient.
"You!" whistled a cold wind against Ishida�s ear.
It wasn�t a cold wind. It was Kurosaki�s voice.
Ishida opened his eyes to a ghost. A white-faced, black-lipped version of Kurosaki--only the innocence wasn�t there, the dumb face pretending to pay attention in class.
"You�re not Kurosaki."
"Yes I am," said the thing and smiled.
Its arms were warm. The face looked dry as dust, but then it touched Ishida�s face and felt moist. The black lips were a balmy comfort as they sucked on Ishida�s. Hot. Reviving.
"You�re not Kurosaki," Ishida said, even as he began to believe it was. The thing was suckling on his throat now. "He�s--" Ishida�s mouth felt so warm. He could taste himself coming back to life. "Kurosaki�s dead."
A purring chuckle against his neck. A burning shove against his groin. Wild arms and legs all over.
It was not Death, but it was welcome.

6.
Ishida/Lisa + porn fetish

for ardane1

"You�ve got to be joking," Ishida said.
"It will be like masturbating in a house of mirrors," Lisa said. "You look exactly like me."
Obviously, Ishida didn�t, but when Lisa dressed him in a sailor suit, he looked eerily similar. His legs were longer and his feet were bigger, but the skirt hem brushed a part of Ishida�s lankiness that was � was it pretty? A white mound of thigh.
"I look good in a skirt," Ishida thought, his heart sinking. There was nothing he wouldn�t do to indulge Lisa�s every porn fetish, but maybe this time he had breached a crucial identity issue.
That was all forgotten, though, as soon as he entered her. She was as noisy as he was controlled, and her breasts behind the school blouse were smashed, rubbing up and down against Ishida�s hard nipples. Her bottom made sloshing noises as he moved against her. "Damn it," she said. "Fuck, yes."
Ishida ripped her stupid bow and blouse right off, so he could suck on her naked breasts. For the next hour, he would not even notice that his own blouse stayed on. He would not notice a thing except how excited she was.

7.
Kuukaku/Ishida + feisty

for finnigan geist

All the kids were terrified of Kuukaku except the Quincy. In the days before the portal to the Realm of the Living was to be opened, he had been wandering past the Seireitei gates daily, looking here and there for fabric and needles, asking after the glowing plants and other foliage that was strange to him.
Kuukaku liked telling people what was what, so she didn�t mind identifying plants for Uryuu. He said he didn�t like being called that, but no one challenged the Shiba family tradition of instant familiarity. Uryuu was a solemn boy, more mature than Ganjyu, and Kuukaku hadn�t found a reason to smack him yet.
Actually, he seemed less arrogant than the white-caped boy who had taken off in the Shiba cannonball. Kuukaku thought that this was odd.
"Did you see any action?" Kuukaku asked him. "Ganjyu says you were in the infirmary with him."
"I don�t want to talk about it," said Uryuu. He was peeling a leaf, rolling the fibers between his fingers.

"That�s not normal. Boys like to brag."
"There�s nothing to tell. Kuchiki-san was rescued and each did his part. Do these grow as a vine or are they from a fruit-bearing tree?"
That was it. The kid needed to snap out this leaf fixation.
Kuukaku backhanded him, easily knocking him and his stupid plant to the ground.
"Do you mean to tell me that you would rather sew dresses for your girlfriend than talk about fighting?"

The boy was touching the red mark on his cheek. "Girlfriend?"
"Orihime. The one you make lovesick faces at. Your fingers should be back there poking pussy instead of picking flowers here."
The red mark spread to cover his whole face.

Retarded virgin.
Kuukaku felt like fucking some sense into him, but then, hovering over the fallen boy with a more merciful intent, she seized his fingers and sniffed. "Just like I thought. These hands haven�t seen any action for days. She�s going to juice somebody else up to the elbow if you don�t stop acting like a fag."
"I--" He didn�t look terrified, just flustered. "I don�t do things like--"
It wasn�t normal for a smart kid to misplace his hormones. What a waste.
"This, this, this!" Kuukaku continued to squeeze his fingers until it was clear that she was hurting him. "You have the fucking hands of a motherfucking god. They�re huge. And your power is all right there, isn�t it? Who knows what kind of crazy-ass energy you can trigger with these babies? Just looking at your hands can make a woman come."
The boy�s mouth dropped open by degrees. The wider it got, the hornier Kuukaku felt. She hadn�t even been turned on a minute ago, but slapping someone around and talking about pussy poking--well, what did you expect?
"Here," she said. " I�ll teach you something useful."
He didn�t refuse her. No one ever refused Kuukaku when she insisted. Still standing, she arched her crotch towards his face and thrust his hand under her clothes. Damn it that she only had one arm--she had to let go his fingers to unknot her fundoshi. His hand wasn�t going anywhere, though. In fact, his fingertips had already started to press against her thigh.
"Just go for it, Uryuu," Kuukaku said as the fabric dropped, and his palm covered her bush of black hair. "You�re a natural."
He was kneeling, looking up at her breasts and not at her face--a good thing, because Kuukaku thought she could get ugly when she started, and she didn�t want to scare Uryuu into pulling out.
He was excruciatingly gentle at first, his middle finger gliding back and forth across her slick center.
She didn�t feel her breathing slow down until he pressed harder, but he continued to test her flesh with light strokes when fingering a new place, finding another fold.
"Shit! That�s the fuse right there!" When he touched her clit, she smashed her hand over his to get him to speed up.
He followed her cue. His own breathing was louder, in pace with hers. Maybe he was a feisty one after all. He hadn�t needed that much instruction.
In went one finger, two, three--even though Kuukaku could have easily accommodated his whole hand, she was that wet. The boy�s read about this stuff somewhere.

The first explosion caught her by surprise. She bucked, tightening around his fingers, a strong scent releasing into the air. Good boy. He didn�t stop, and she came over and over, bending over and her waist landing against his shoulder while he worked her pussy and she thrashed.
She didn�t care about making noise, but she didn�t feel like letting out more than a low groan when she came the last time--hard and deep. It was after the shockwaves wore off that she felt the pinch of his thumbnail against her clit, and she removed his hand.
That had been pretty good. Better than naming plants.

End
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Fun with Boy and Arrow Boy