"Blankets", a Bleach fanfic
Disclaimer: Bleach does not belong to me.
Rating: M/NC-17
Pairing: Ichigo/Orihime
Warnings: Language, sex.
Spoilers: Up to date with the manga.
Author’s Note: This is a request fic from le_cuivre . Why yes, it had originally been IchiRuki, but thanks to the great Godzen, she has come back to stay with her IchiHime OTP. <3 Happy friend right here. XD So the pairing isn’t the same but the prompt is, however. I hope you like it bb. Thank you so much for the gift you gave me as well. I totally wasn’t expecting it at all and I just can’t thank you or gush over it enough. ^^ Go read it guys. It’s called, “Cavity”. It’s over the IchiHime comm.
But here’s to you Copper. Happy IchiHime lovin’, dear! I wuvs you!
And thank you to Angela (angel_2606 ) for editing this for me. I know you’re a busy woman and I am grateful for your editing love and abilities. =)
“Sex relieves tension; love causes it.” - Woody Allen
--
He had heard stories of heaven and hell. And after battling Aizen and his Arrancar army, he knew all too well that hell did, in fact, exist. He had, however, been unsure about heaven.
Until now-
Laying where he had left her this morning, still tangled blissfully inside their sheets, was his breathing heaven. The wingless angel with a constant smile and strange ideas.
The small ‘o’ shape of her mouth as she slept made his nose crinkle thoughtfully. The near-infinite sea of torched orange hair nearly devoured her face from his view, but he was fine with that; it stood out so wonderfully against the white pillow that cushioned her dreams. Those wild, wild dreams of hers.
Deciding that he should let her sleep, Ichigo headed for the door when his sharp stare found a gift from the late-morning sunshine.
The tangled blanket, which obscured major portions of her body, was suddenly a tad on the transparent side.
Every curve and dip of her covered form suddenly revealed itself through the soft mist of white cotton.
His throat constricted as his open grasp grappled with the door knob; unable to turn; unable to move.
Her toes wriggled as passing dreams tickled her conscious.
“Mmngh, no more marshmallows….too…hot.”
She could say that again. The temperature had drastically spiked upon his awareness of her sleeping form. Innocent and trusting against the bed they made. Always as he made her, and always as he left her. A swell of male pride shot through him at her naked shoulders and legs jetting out from underneath the fabric. Rarely did she sleep with clothing. Rarely would he let her sleep with clothing. There was just something about this woman that made all grasps of control he had fall away. And he was quite fine with that.
Scratching at the back of his spiked head, he contemplated leaving her there. Orihime loved her sleep. And she honestly needed it. There was no doubt that he would have a chance at redemption later.
Her brows muddied together as she shifted underneath the thin sheet, her long, long legs rubbing against one another as she battled with her fantasies.
The sun caught flashes of her smooth skin as she moved. Pale and clean, they were perfect. She was perfect. Silly and just a bit odd sometimes, but perfect all the same.
“Don’t…Ichi…go…that’s too…much.”
His eyebrows shot upwards as he listened to her sleep babble. Breathy sighs of his name and constant moves from her legs, tossing the sheet across her skin, inching her exposure higher and higher.
The soft beats of his heart gently rose as he stepped away from the door to go stand beside the bed, watching her fingers twitch.
What exactly…was she dreaming about?
‘Me.’ He smugly thought to himself, bending down to let his fingers trail over her exposed shoulder.
“You…shouldn’t…not.like.that.”
The substitute smirked at her groans. This time he let his fingers press against her arm a little harder, making sure to really feel her soft skin, as he trailed his fingertips down to her wrist.
She gasped in her sleep; her body tensing as she fought with the sheet, flipping quickly onto her other side, leaving Ichigo alone and just a bit too aroused to let it stay that way.
His eyes roved over her newly positioned form, her back bare and gently moving as she rested. The blanket fell at the base of her spine, yet again denying his curious gaze. All that skin, however, was not something to be ignored.
Who in their right mind could? He was only human after all. He didn’t have to wake her.
Although the selfish part of him wanted her to leave her dreams behind and come to the world of the conscious.
Careful not to cause too much of a disturbance, he sat down on the side of the bed and breathed deeply. His dominant hand slid over the teasing sheet, dragging it lightly across her hip as he admired her.
A person shouldn’t take pleasure in something like this. But damn…
His fingers ran up her spine, watching the bends and intricacies of their movement as he tickled her. She leaned forward, her chest brushing against the sheet as she bent away from his touch. He smiled. He wanted a reaction like that again. This time he ran his palm sure against her, up to her shoulder blades, to the base of her neck and back down again.
Another gasp fell from her mouth as she continued her fight with dream Ichigo, “Ichigo…people…are…looking.”
He swallowed thickly, trying his best to imagine what it was she was seeing.
His hand fell idly to her side, settling into the curve of her hip, making itself at home.
Lowering his head, he kissed the end of her spine, taking pleasure in the soft whisper of his name as he trailed his mouth and tongue up to her shoulders. He nipped at her shoulder and neck before breathing in the smell of her shampoo, locking the memory away with images of her.
“Damn,” Ichigo growled, eyes falling darker as he busied himself.
More tickles; more kisses; more of his warm tongue against her tingling skin; more gasps; and more whispers of his name.
His fingers buried into the sheet as he tried to calm himself, his breathing becoming labored, as he attempted to clear his mind.
Her legs rubbed against themselves again; her back arching this time, hair falling away from her face as she shifted again, her hands running over the bedspread. She was becoming agitated.
Ichigo grinned. So his little touches weren’t going as ignored as he thought they were.
Well then-
He leaned over, tucking back her thick hair, and settled his mouth against her small ear.
“Orihime,” He called out smoothly, leaving his voice haunting and drifting.
“Hmm?” She breathed, her face, even in the midst of sleep, glowing at the mere sound of his voice.
“Do you want more?”
“No…it’s…too…much.”
Oh…it was never too much. There was no such thing. Not when it came to her. Not when it came to them.
“Don’t you want to wake up?” He asked her, his mouth pressing a kiss to her ear.
Her body shivered at the sensation, her conscious slowly coming to life, shaking off the haziness of sleep.
“Not yet.”
“Don’t you want to tell me ‘good morning’?”
Nothing.
He smiled, settling into the bed next to her. Slowly; surely, his hand slipped under that nuisance of a sheet, and around her hip to the front of her anatomy.
Ichigo watched her shoulders rise and fall a little more quickly as his hand slid up her smooth tummy, to her breasts, and back down again.
The soul reaper fought back the urge to groan as he continued his exploration in hopes of waking her from her reverie. Hungrily, his calloused palm slipped between her thighs to settle against her sex.
Burning and damp. So her body was paying attention, even if her mind wasn’t.
Control. He had to have control.
Before he could remove his curious extension, she moved her thighs again, grinding herself against his palm and wrist.
Ichigo’s eyes widened as he choked on his air.
Control.
“Ichigo-”
Submission.
Casting away all needs to be discrete, he leaned down and kissed her neck, pulling her pliant body securely against his.
“Orihime.”
Nothing.
He grit his teeth, brows screwed together as he fought with his animalistic urges. The hollow inside howled its discontent as he attempted to take his time and wake her gently.
His offending hand slid against her; searching. He found her heightened awareness easily, his eyes glazing over with desire as his fingers formed small circles repeatedly.
Her legs opened further of their own accord, instincts responding to their mate, and gave him room to work.
“Shit,” he growled through a clenched jaw. His body moved against hers as he continued to stroke her; warm her with affection.
This was wrong. But he’d be damned if it didn’t feel right.
With each turn and circle of his fingers, he rubbed against her, his breath hot and wet on her shoulders.
“Orihime,” He called; demanded, his voice thick with desire.
Slowly her eyes lifted, sleep still covering her cool gray irises.
…
They quickly widened with mortification upon what she found.
“Ichigo!” She exclaimed, questioning and demanding.
“I thought I’d wake you up,” He teased, his voice strained as he continued his act. Not slowing or stumbling in the slightest.
The rough pressure of his awareness and her own, now affirmed, arousal quickly sobered her sleep-drunken veins as her breaths came to her in gasps and moans.
Her back arched into him, her body helping with their movements, leaving him to catch up to her quickened pace.
Keening, she grabbed onto his forearm for support. Just a touch or two more and she’d-
“No.”
Her eyes rounded as she held onto her breath, not daring to move. The thundering of her heart against her ribcage sounded through her ears harshly as she fought back the urge to whine her disapproval.
His hand retracted and left her exposed, cool, and unsatisfied.
Icighio shifted behind her; discarding his clothes, before the sheet that had been draped over her so loosely was cast aside and instead replaced with his body heat. He urged her to her stomach, a hand fisting into her long locks as he helped her to her knees.
On all fours, Ichigo told her ‘good morning’.
Hard and breaking, he filled her. Orihime whimpered a bit as the air dissipated from her lungs momentarily, her body snug against his own as he shoved in and out experimentally at first.
“Better?” He managed, his breath hitching at the sight of her submissive and waiting under his strong and all-too-greedy hands.
“Mmhmm,” She panted, sweat falling down her temples, pieces of her long hair sticking to her cheeks and back like glue.
Beautiful.
Leaning over her, sealing her between the bed and his body, he took her. Slow and unsure at first; lethargic and trying.
Soft sounds of enjoyment and flesh as it moved against flesh filled the air; along with heavy breathing and the squeals of bed springs.
Her body leaned into his domination, urging him for more without the verbal command of ‘harder’. Reading her physical pleading loudly, he pushed her down into the cushioning further, her head turning to the side so that she may breathe. His fisted hand gave her hair a tug, pulling her head far enough backwards so he could make love to the side of her mouth with deprived lips.
The flush on her face was more than sheer strain and excitement. Orihime was just a little too embarrassed at how she had been awakened this morning, only to find that her body had been reacting long before she had ever been aware. The core-shattering moment she realized she was riding his hand in her sleep left her feeling silly and exposed. Did everyone do that or just her?
Ichigo noticed her thought-induced frown, a look he typically carried, and he grunted, kissing her mouth roughly, “You’re fucking beautiful.”
Her bright eyes twinkled up at him as he returned to his task; leaning down on his forearms, one hand to stabilize himself, the other imprinting her hip with his direction of their bodies together, he continued.
Quicker.
Faster.
More.
Less rhythmic.
More violent.
Her heart beat sporadically as she fought back the urge to finish, leaving him behind her. But Ichigo would not have it. Whenever he felt her body tensing around him, he slowed his movements to near nothings. Together. That’s the only way he would be satisfied.
“I heard you talking in your sleep, Orihime,” the carrot-top informed her, breathing against her back through ragged jerky breaths.
Now she really was embarrassed. “Y-you did? Ah, I’m sorry if I was too loud,” Orihime gasped, holding her breath to savor each movement inside of her make-up.
His coffee eyes watched her face contort with focus as she tried to hold on to her control. He shoved in roughly, causing her eyes to jerk open with a loud huff of air.
“That’s just it. You weren’t loud enough. Moaning my name like that-” Ichigo purred, his voice cool and tempting, “Now that you’re awake, I want you to say it as loud as you can.”
Male ego. Did it ever really end?
“N-no Ichigo! The neighbors will-”
“Fuck the neighbors. I don’t give a damn about what they think.”
“But I-I-”
Reaching underneath her, he found her button, pressing into her with his fingers as he thrust into to the movement of his teasing; coaxing.
“Loud. Do it for me, Hime,” Ichigo reminded her, sucking at the side of her neck, leaving his mark; his stamp.
--
It had been much louder than either of the pair had expected. Orihime was left sated but completely mortified at her outburst. And Ichigo was left exhausted and proud as hell.
“I’m so embarrassed,” She flailed, eyes wide and nervous as she buried herself under their blankets again.
Ichigo laughed, “Don’t be. And I would suggest completely sleeping under the covers from now on.”
“Eh?” Orihime asked, a glazed-over look on her face.
He kissed the top of her head and settled down in the spot next to her, “What were you dreaming about anyways, Orihime?”
She giggled and buried her face into her pillow, a low mumble sounding through the cotton.
“What?” Ichigo grumbled, his typical scowl falling back into place.
“Sun block! You put way too much sun block on me! I looked like a marshmallow that had caught on fire because of my hair! It‘s orange, you know.”
…
She looked at him with large doe eyes, her mouth open as she held onto a breath. She really was something…wasn’t she?
Ichigo could only snort at her explanation.
Yes, he believed in hell. He’d lived it when she had disappeared. He’d fought through it to get her back. And he was more than certain that hell was not where he wanted to end up.
But heaven, this heaven; here and now with her, was worth fighting hell and its army over and over again. How many lifetimes had she told him?
…
Five. Over and over again for five lifetimes.
A small price to pay for this; her.