Long-Legged Shadow | By : TheresMoneyInThis Category: Bleach > Yuri - Female/Female Views: 4075 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Bleach, NOR do I own any of the characters of BLEACH. Also I am not making a profit off of this. |
A/N: Everyone just always seems to pair Harribel and Nell together, more than likely because they were both the Third Espadas and both happened to be female. Who knows. But it seems like everyone just kind of forgets about Cirucci; I personally loved her. While I don't venture too much into the Yuri/Yaoi categories (for the sole fact that I lack a lot of couples in both categories) this couple has proven to harass me and label themselves as a guilty pleasure that I cannot deny.
She almost took too much pleasure in listening to the pained scream from the woman as the counter-attack left her nearly cratered into the ground; she must've struck her out from a much higher altitude than she thought. Slowly approaching the temporarily crippled woman, she watched as she struggled to push herself away from the ground only to use most of her strength to roll herself onto her back instead. Her white uniform was ripped at the wide hem of her dress to reveal the paler stockings that dressed her long legs; giving into every small curve and contour that made up her slender calves and full thighs. Dark-purple locks were disheveled and pulled from their usual pigtailed fashion to partly block the light bruises that marked her flushed cheeks. Her rather unusual yet provocative weapon had been knocked from her hold upon impact and left her ultimately defenseless against her approaching form. She took strange enjoyment in watching the way her heavy chest heaved with labored gasps that would hopefully ease the painful burning in her lungs; watching how the woman seemed to give little notice to her parted legs as heels pushed back into the floor to give herself a surface to push off from; eyeing the way her thighs continued to curve up into the junction of her hips before her skirt dipped down to block the rest of the sight. They had been here to train and... one move lead to another before the stakes were raised; strikes became too close and attacks began to turn more and more violent. It was exhilarating The bleeding strikes on her back from where the tip of the woman's whip had sliced her flesh open like paper were all the more arousing; the warmth of her own blood sliding down her skin pushed her closer and closer to that animalistic need to prove dominance now. The blood was already in the water and she had caught hint of it. Fingertips cradled and stroked the thick hilt of her sword as she pulled it loose from it's holster inch by painstaking inch till the blade gave off a small reflection in the dim lighting. She knew how she wanted to use it and knew exactly how to get it there. Another pained groan left the woman as she moved to push herself up; her gloved hands aching as they pushed back against the unforgiving ground to support her throbbing body. Her spine felt like it was radiating with heat as the quick to floor collision gave off the impression of several dislodged and dislocated discs. She doubted the injury actually existed but it sure as hell felt like it did. Her dark eyes glanced up to the blur of the approaching figure; she couldn't make out the details now but she had used the entire battle to take that pleasure for herself. Short blonde-locks seemed to come into sharp contrast against the woman's warm, cinnamon skin; piercing blue-green eyes were barely visible from behind her disheveled bangs and the tall neck piece of her uniform top. Her... almost lack of a uniform was the more interesting piece of her. The cropped, barely mid-rif top seemed to strain and struggle to zip itself together over her rather... gifted breasts; there was no denying their presence, even as a woman herself, she found them oddly distracting. Her firm abdomen seemed to flex in the empty space between her top and the hip-hugging bottoms that cut down almost too low against her thighs; revealing even more of that flushed cinnamon flesh. It took a moment for her sight to fall back into place and the first thing she noticed was the woman's sword drawn out; the blade already pointed downward as the light rotation of her wrist signaled the oncoming strike from the weapon. There was literally no time for her to react as the woman pulled her arm up before she let the blade fly from her fingertips like it was a simple playing card. The air stilled and rotted in her lungs as she braced herself for the strike, only to watch as the sword impaled itself into the empty floor space between her legs; missing any type of flesh by a few inches. She let the spoiled air leave her in a rushed exhale as her lips trembled with the loss of breath. It felt like her body had been cemented by the threat of an attack and refused to move afterwards; barely a twitch seem to leave her fingertips as her better judgment urged her to take the moment and put even distance between them again. She watched as the Third Espada knelt down to retrieve her sword at first before she settled on straddling her legs instead; fingers stroking the thick hilt in a slow, almost delirious motion that border-lined being captivating and hypnotizing. The cold touch of leather against her skin knocked her from the trance as she felt the woman press one hand against her right thigh before she drug her fingers further along the weakened limb. It took her a moment of delay before she noticed the way her dress bundled around the woman's wrist; feeling those cold, leather fingers manage to press themselves against the curve of her lower stomach before they hooked themselves beneath the waistband of her laced underwear. The sound of snapping fingers went off in her head as her body rushed to cease the woman's objective- whatever it was. "Not so quick." The woman was faster than she was and it was like in the blink of an eye, she found her hands pinned above her by the wrists; each one caught in the fingers of only one of the woman's hands. That cinnamon body arched over her own and forced those piercing eyes to be over her own. There was a crunch of the blade being ripped from the floor before the woman's body seem to adjust over her; her position shifted to fit one knee between her own and prevent her from closing the euphoric space. A sharp shudder coursed almost painfully up her spine as she felt the cold touch of the sword lightly tracing shapes against one thigh; the tip being drug ever so carefully as it seemed to draw mindless little doodles. The higher it went, the more tense her body became until it felt like her bones had become stone; the tip of the blade slowly pressed against the curve of her underwear before it slowly followed the hidden shapes underneath. The ground crunched once more as the sword was impaled through the tiles against till fingers tilted the weapon forward; pressing the blunt edge of it against her. "Who was the victor here?" The blunt edge was almost being forced against her organs now as it almost seemed tempted by the thin material that barely separated the two. She cringed at the touch and just the thought of what one little wrong motion could do. Fingers separated themselves from the hilt before they moved to lightly brush aside the purple strands that had fallen into her face; they were almost... tender in care and touch as they tucked each piece behind one ear. The flat of the woman's thumb lightly rubbed at the small purple, teardrop that tattooed one cheek; tracing the curved shape over and over again. She watched as those eyes seemed to soften for a brief moment. "I'll be the first to say that this kind of behavior is... uncharacteristic of me; in fact, I rarely give into the animal that drives me but... the temptation and desire is far too great this time. It begs for dominance and enforces submission. This battle has only driven that point deeper and deeper until it is embedded even into my very fingertips. There's so much blood in the water... I can't control myself." Her tone continued to remain calm and rather collective; and yet there was the undertone of giving in. They bore the appearances of humans and yet, it was animal blood that coursed through their veins and drove them forward. It was the animalistic need to win that forbid them from surrendering even in the defeat of battle. "What do you want from me?" That seemed like the target question as she felt those fingers leave the soft cradle of her cheek before they slowly descended downward. Fingertips pressed into the flat of her sternum before they trailed over the curves of her breasts; prodding the firm, yet forgiving tissue several times. "Submission."While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. 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