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fanfic Bleach: Not as Nice as Me
Sometimes I do give in and write a bunny. I try to keep them from becoming epic, and like I've mentioned before, it is fun to play in someone else's sandbox! *grin* With that said, I now present to you my first new fanfic over a year--which is pretty good for keeping things under control, right??
I actually posted this story to FF.net and Luna several months back, and now I am officially making it public it here.
Fandom: Bleach
Title: Not as Nice as Me
Summary: Grimmjow can't resist the chance to see Orihime alone. The only motivation he needs is that he likes the way she reacts to him. Very much. Set soon after Orihime arrives in Hueco Mundo.
Genre: Drama, Suspense, PG-13
Length: oneshot at 2,125 words
Warning: Contains malicious violence
A/N: Many thanks to my beta Stariceling, who kept cheering me on to finish and provided wonderful feedback. This story is a work of fanfiction and has nothing to do with the licensed version of this manga or anime in any way whatsoever.
Grimmjow strode down the hallway and took great pleasure in smashing the face of someone else's Fracción with his restored left arm. When the shrieking Arrancar's companions gaped at him, Grimmjow gave them his trademark grin. They scattered with a collective squeal of terror. Using the same arm, he snatched one of them up by its jacket and raised it to eye level.
It felt so good to be back.
He eyed the minion, then asked in a voice more amused than irritated, "Why were you idiots blocking my way?"
The Fracción's hands flailed at Grimmjow in panic until he gave it a good shake.
"Well?"
"Th-the human is in that room. We wanted to see why Aizen-sama is interested in her!" Its eyes rolled in terror towards a door in the hallway.
Grimmjow glanced at the closed door. "That's not her room. You lying to me?"
When it saw Grimmjow's smile fade, the Fracción began to tremble. It gasped out, "Ulquiorra brought her here! Aizen-sama told him to show her whatever's in there!"
"Yeah? Then why hasn't Ulquiorra come out here and pounded your ass for hovering around his girlfriend? I know that uptight bastard would never share."
The Fracción ceased struggling and just stared at Grimmjow before managing to squeak out in a tiny voice, "He's not in there."
Grimmjow looked at the door again, his scowl turning into a speculative smirk. "Heh. Lucky me." He dropped the minion without a second thought, too focused on the room to care about its terrified escape.
She was inside. The human woman Aizen-sama had wanted for her freakish healing powers. The woman who had used those powers to return his arm and his status in Hueco Mundo.
He clenched his left hand into a fist, held it up for just a moment as if to knock, then kicked the door open instead. The crash as it slammed home into its slot was satisfyingly loud.
The woman shrieked and leaped away to press her back against the far side of the room, her eyes wide.
Grimmjow ignored the large city model that dominated the room's center in favor of studying her. He eyed her from top to bottom, taking his time absorbing the distinct lack of her barrette weapons and her new white and black clothing. Hueco Mundo clothing. He supposed that was meant to signify she was now one of Aizen-sama's subjects--undoubtedly Ulquiorra's mind games at work. His lip curled in derision.
"Hey, woman," he drawled.
Recognition flickered across her face. She flinched, but kept her eyes locked on him.
He remained in the doorway, not really sure of his own intentions, and curious to see how she would react.
To his surprise, she straightened and moved a small distance from the rear wall of the room. "Wh-what are you doing here?" Her voice quavered, yet it did not sound completely weak.
He tilted his head slightly, lips pursed, and stared back at her. What was he doing here? Why had he felt compelled to talk to her alone? He absently scratched his jaw with one finger while he considered it.
After several long moments passed, she clenched her hands in front of her, arms straight, and began to fidget. She shifted her weight from foot-to-foot, glanced down at the city model displayed in the middle of the room, then quickly jerked her eyes back up to him. He liked that she didn't want to take her eyes off him. It was cute.
Grimmow gave up puzzling out his motivations when he realized his silence alone was beginning to unnerve her. He watched her growing agitation with amusement. Who knew saying nothing could be more intimidating than loudly promised threats? Maybe Ulquiorra was on to something with his tricks. Not that Grimmmjow would ever tell him that to his face, of course.
Pleased, he chuckled deep in his throat and grinned at her, showing all his teeth and taking great delight when she gasped and jumped back against the wall again.
Oh, this was going to be fun. Who cared about the reasons why?
Casually, he jammed his hands into his pockets and took a step inside the room, then a second. A third step moved him to the right, around the room's occupied center.
She shifted uneasily and swallowed, then took a step to the right herself, carefully keeping the displayed city model between them.
The model was large, and rested on a pedestal in the middle of the room. It was one of Szayel Aporro's scale research jobs, crafted with absolute precision and dedication to detail. A waste of time as far as Grimmjow was concerned. Really. Why spend hours building a model when you could use that time to just dive in and start blowing shit up?
This particular monument to wasted opportunity was of Karakura. And Aizen-sama wanted her to see it? Not that he could figure what seeing the city laid out like a pre-battle buffet was supposed to accomplish. She knew what the place looked like, since it was her home. More mind games, he supposed. Yet another example of Ulquiorra's favorite thing.
He snorted. Okay, maybe the intimidating silence angle was all right, but in the end, Grimmjow decided he preferred a more direct approach.
His eyes alighted upon a row of discrete thumbtacks that pinned a tall building in place. He plucked one from the model and held it up for a moment, rolling it back and forth between his thumb and finger, as if examining it for flaws. He paused and flicked eyes over to the woman in speculation.
She took a breath as if to speak, then snapped her mouth closed when he grinned. She pressed herself even more tightly against the wall, swallowed, and started trembling.
Oh yeah, he definitely liked how she reacted to his smiles.
She glanced quickly between him and the door, her desire to run completely obvious.
"Oh, I suggest you stay in here."
At the sound of his voice, the woman jumped again, then seemingly chastised herself. "Why not?" she asked in a firm tone, and took a defiant half-step towards the door.
"Because there are monsters out in the hall. And some of them are not as nice as me."
She blinked at him in complete astonishment, clearly at a loss for words, and moved sideways again. A full step this time.
Grimmjow raised an eyebrow and rocked back on his heels. "All right. If you're so brave, go."
Her mouth firmed, and Grimmjow's other eyebrow joined the first when she turned and briskly walk towards the door. The dismissal in her voice rang clear when she said, "It doesn't matter who is in the hall or how nice they are. Ulquiorra won't let anything happen to me."
His playful mood broke like the snapping of a mortal's neck. He leaped across the model straight for her, shoved her back hard, and locked her against the wall with his left forearm across her lower neck. He deliberately held the thumbtack directly in front of her eye, so close that if she blinked, her eyelashes would whisper around the steel point.
She stared cross-eyed at it.
"But Ulquiorra isn't here, and you don't have your weapons," he told her with an angry sneer, a low growl rumbling beneath the words. "Be careful or you're gonna get stuck." He shot the tack towards her, letting her twist her face away just in time to avoid it. He buried it into the wall.
She gaped at the tack in the wall, then at him, her disbelieving eyes huge in her trembling face.
He leaned in and whispered into her ear, "Told you I was nice."
That close to her, her long red hair brushed his face, and the scent of her nervous sweat filled his nostrils. He could see her pulse throbbing in the tender while column of her throat, left exposed when she'd evaded the thumbtack's path. He wanted to taste it.
So he did. He gave the side of her neck one long, languid lick, all the way to the top of her ear.
Her entire body froze for a split second as she registered the sensation upon her skin.
Grimmjow pivoted barely in time to avoid her attempted knee to his groin. Delighted, he laughed. This woman had some spine!
She snapped her hands up and went for his face with her fingernails. He easily dodged and leaned back, and in her fury she sank her nails into his chest and raked. "Let go of me!" she snarled.
Her furious attack actually made him stop laughing and grunt in pain. He caught one of her wrists in his free hand and squeezed hard in warning, causing her to gasp.
His next snarky comment died in his throat when met her incensed gaze. Her eyes seemed to glow with fury and frustration. She was half his size, without her weapons or her guardian, and yet she still chose to fight. He knew she was afraid of him, but there she was, radiating challenge.
He drank in the sight of her. "You're plenty strong on your own, kitten," he purred. Grimmjow lifted her captured hand to his mouth and licked his blood from the fingers while holding her eyes with his own. "You don't need Ulquiorra to protect you."
She clamped her free hand on his left forearm. Her small hand couldn't even reach halfway around the circumference of his muscled arm.
"Let...me...go," she held his eyes and began to dig her fingernails into his restored skin.
Grimmjow froze. Her message might have been unintentional, but it worked. He owed that arm to her. She was the reason he was an Espada once more. If she hadn't come to Hueco Mundo, he would still be banished to the shadows
His smile faded. He released her and stepped away.
They glared at each other in silence.
Grimmjow did not know what to think. His mind felt overrun with conflicting images of his torment and humiliation while missing his arm, the miracle of its restoration by her powers, the taste of her terror at his presence, and how much he'd liked it when she fought back.
His face twisted in a scowl. He raised one hand and pointed at her. "This isn't done, kitten."
"Yes, it is!" she snapped in return. "And don't call me 'kitten'!"
"All right then, woman." He pivoted and stalked toward the door. He couldn't do anything until he straightened out what was going on inside him. He paused as he passed out into the hall, struck by inspiration. He leered at her over his shoulder. "I will be back, kitten. And I'll be bringing a leash."
A/N: This fic started as a personal challenge. I wanted to see if I could write from the point of view of an evil, violent villain. My random prompt was "thumbtacks", and I stepped into the shoes of one of my favorite nasties, Grimmjow. Writing this fic was...disturbingly liberating, to be honest! And I admit, I ship Grimmjow and Orihime, so that only increased the guilty pleasure for me. I hope you enjoyed reading this fic as much as I did writing it.
(completed 5-21-11, last tweaked on same day)