Drabble? And HET?
Mar. 8th, 2010 01:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blood_crowTitle: Our Frozen Fire
Characters/Pairings: Gin x Rangiku
Rating: R
Warnings: Het sex? Nothing too graphic.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, I only steal its characters so I can go on perverted conquests via fan fics. Also, all characters involved in sexual situations are fictional and above the legal age of consent in the state of California, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
Summary: Wah, oh my god! I totally forgot to edit the summary from the last thing I wrote. Ah, well this is just Matsumoto Rangiku going on about Ichimaru Gin ;)
Word Count: 470
A/N: A very short drabble, but I like it nonetheless. It is my first official het, so these be milestones, people. I shall contend that the shortness of this is because it's het, and that I must take baby steps into these mysterious waters XD
The ginger-haired lieutenant of Tenth Division had learned long ago that Ichimaru Gin was the epitome of winter. With his snow-fallen hair, his pale skin stretched over thin bone and muscle like a molted tree, and his cold, cold fingers. Those fingers would touch her late at night, when the moon was hidden behind clouds and it was nothing but creeping shadows in the quiet of their room. Those fingers would skirt along her flesh and it rose in their wake, her fine hair standing on end and bumps breaking along her body.
She did not know if it was the cold or the want for more that made her shiver. Either way he would take it to be acquiescence, and soon thin lips would join the fingers. They weren't as cold but they were chapped, and they still breathed winter over her still form. She would close her eyes and murmur his name, her slim fingers curling around the sheets. She could feel his grin in the dark, against her waist, against her breast; painting cunning delight across her chilled flesh.
She would hear the pleased laughter hiding deep inside his chest, while on the outside he remained silent.
The only time that he was warm was when he moved inside her. When she would wrap her legs around his too-thin waist, and her thighs would rest against his parchment-pale skin, and she'd arch her hips to meet his. His tongue would fall against her bared throat, as hot as the thing that was inside her, and she'd bathe in those small touches. She'd relish the rare moment that he could burn instead of freeze.
Until his hands found her hips, and his fingers bit like an icy wind; like the tips of a snow-covered mountain.
Until his eyes opened just long enough to meet hers, bleeding sanguine beneath the moon.
People often said that Ichimaru Gin was like a fox, but Matsumoto Rangiku envisioned a weasel instead. A sly predator that danced before its prey, on the tips of its paws, bouncing back and forth. A happy killer that liked to hypnotize the rabbit, luring it with its playful display, snow kicking around them.
Towards the end Gin would pin her down, his hands holding her wrists on either side of her head while his tipped back. His eyes would close once more and there'd be a look of childish joy on his face, before his lips fell open on a soft part. He would breath an exultant cry as he came inside her, and Rangiku would quiver at the warmth of his release, falling not too far behind.
She always hoped that his seed would stay warm inside her, but always it leaked from between her thighs to cool on the sheets, like everything else that was Ichimaru Gin.
Characters/Pairings: Gin x Rangiku
Rating: R
Warnings: Het sex? Nothing too graphic.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, I only steal its characters so I can go on perverted conquests via fan fics. Also, all characters involved in sexual situations are fictional and above the legal age of consent in the state of California, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
Summary: Wah, oh my god! I totally forgot to edit the summary from the last thing I wrote. Ah, well this is just Matsumoto Rangiku going on about Ichimaru Gin ;)
Word Count: 470
A/N: A very short drabble, but I like it nonetheless. It is my first official het, so these be milestones, people. I shall contend that the shortness of this is because it's het, and that I must take baby steps into these mysterious waters XD
The ginger-haired lieutenant of Tenth Division had learned long ago that Ichimaru Gin was the epitome of winter. With his snow-fallen hair, his pale skin stretched over thin bone and muscle like a molted tree, and his cold, cold fingers. Those fingers would touch her late at night, when the moon was hidden behind clouds and it was nothing but creeping shadows in the quiet of their room. Those fingers would skirt along her flesh and it rose in their wake, her fine hair standing on end and bumps breaking along her body.
She did not know if it was the cold or the want for more that made her shiver. Either way he would take it to be acquiescence, and soon thin lips would join the fingers. They weren't as cold but they were chapped, and they still breathed winter over her still form. She would close her eyes and murmur his name, her slim fingers curling around the sheets. She could feel his grin in the dark, against her waist, against her breast; painting cunning delight across her chilled flesh.
She would hear the pleased laughter hiding deep inside his chest, while on the outside he remained silent.
The only time that he was warm was when he moved inside her. When she would wrap her legs around his too-thin waist, and her thighs would rest against his parchment-pale skin, and she'd arch her hips to meet his. His tongue would fall against her bared throat, as hot as the thing that was inside her, and she'd bathe in those small touches. She'd relish the rare moment that he could burn instead of freeze.
Until his hands found her hips, and his fingers bit like an icy wind; like the tips of a snow-covered mountain.
Until his eyes opened just long enough to meet hers, bleeding sanguine beneath the moon.
People often said that Ichimaru Gin was like a fox, but Matsumoto Rangiku envisioned a weasel instead. A sly predator that danced before its prey, on the tips of its paws, bouncing back and forth. A happy killer that liked to hypnotize the rabbit, luring it with its playful display, snow kicking around them.
Towards the end Gin would pin her down, his hands holding her wrists on either side of her head while his tipped back. His eyes would close once more and there'd be a look of childish joy on his face, before his lips fell open on a soft part. He would breath an exultant cry as he came inside her, and Rangiku would quiver at the warmth of his release, falling not too far behind.
She always hoped that his seed would stay warm inside her, but always it leaked from between her thighs to cool on the sheets, like everything else that was Ichimaru Gin.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-03-08 10:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-03-09 05:17 am (UTC)