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glances at her. then walks away.

     A glance in his direction as well - then, watches as he leaves them.

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        As he moves closer, as his fingers tighten slowly around her throat, Xenia watches him, her hair still intertwined in his fist. She gives no outward reaction to the obvious tension beginning to build between them - only releasing a small sound when he yanks at her hair, reaching her hand up instinctively to grip one of his wrists, as if to try and break away. She makes no movement to, fingers lingering and then dropping from his arm altogether. 

       She feels his tongue a second later, dragging almost lazily across her skin, “What’s the point of that?” He’s already more than aware - with how he acts around her, touches her so carelessly, something she doesn’t seem to mind as much as she should, she’d definitely thought he’d already gotten his answer, “...I can’t particularly move when you’re pulling my hair, Nnoitra.”

        Xenia can’t find herself surprised with his request though, as unpredictable as he could be, it’d always come back to his dominance over her. Even so, she doesn’t try to twist out of his grip, standing almost completely still in front of him - if she’d try to pull away now, he’d surely rip out more than just a few strands. 

     He listens quietly for her reply and gives a grunt of disapproval as she does.  She can say what she wants to say but actions speak louder than words. There is something in her that wants to bite back  -  that wants to disregard him and what he does to her.  More than anything else he desires to snuff it out in her.  Entirely.  He cannot deny he’s eager to begin.  Perhaps she’s just forgotten herself in his absence. 

       “Prove it then.”  His fingers tighten slightly more around her throat, his own body bent closer to her. Until his face his scarce inches from her own.  The hand still in her hair twists, yanks sharply so as to hear her cry out.  “C’mon. I want y’to show me that yer mine.  All of ya.”  His mouth is only an inch away now,  tongue slipped from between his lips to trail over her cheek in one languid motion.  “… Go on.”

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He tugs - pulls her closer with his hold, until she stands directly in front of him. Lips draw back, teeth on display as he stares her down. Disobedience of any sort is not to be tolerated yet it happens. As if something in her yearns to deny him until his claws sink in. He pulls her head back, his free hand lifted to rest heavy at the base of her neck. "Always tryin' t'piss me off." His eye narrows despite the grin across his features. His hand tightens slightly. "Why?"

        It’s an odd feeling - to have her throat exposed to someone like him. He’s much larger than her, his shadow drapes over her easily, and Xenia finds herself staring at his teeth, raising her eyes only slightly to look back towards his eyes. When his hand closes around her throat, she doesn’t move, as uncomfortable as the position may be. 

        “I’m not trying to do anything, Nnoitra,” she speaks softly, with them being as close as they are, she doesn’t think he has much problem hearing her. Still, even as she answers him, Xenia makes no move to remove herself from his grasp. 

        That would probably be overstepping the line - too far.  

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yeah, that's the fuckin' plan. / and he reaches for her, long fingers curling into her hair.

        Should’ve expected it. Her hair is taken a hold of, twisted in his grip easily. As soon as pulls her back to him, her hair is yanked out of its knotted bun, a few locks brushing over her shoulders. Since he has such a tight hold onto it, she doesn’t make any move to break away, catching  his eyes out of the corner of her own. 

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well stop walkin' bitch. i'm dealin' with y'right now.

        And so, she stops completely, turning her body slightly in his direction, tilting her chin up to glance at his features, “...you can come, Nnoitra.”

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uh. where the fuck y'think yer goin'?

         She stops, turns her head, glances back at him through thick strands of dark hair, “...Outside.”

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/ smacks her ass again.

        Still nothing. 

        Since he doesn’t feel the need to speak, she heads in the opposite direction of him, further down the hallway. 

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/ smacks her ass. hard.

         She offers no type of greeting - he does that well enough on his own. Instead of speaking or particularly reacting to his actions, she only lifts her head, giving him a pointed look that says more than enough. 

        ( is that really necessary? )

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Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?

Friedrich Nietzsche (via quotemadness)

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suck my dick.

        Well, he wasn’t really asking. Like everything he says, it’s a demand, no room for argument or protest. Xenia, who had been close to leaving the area, stopped where she was and glanced over at the Espada. His expression was waiting, expectant - Xenia turns back around. 

        “Now?” Still, even as she asks, her only option is to move back towards him, settling to stand between his legs, “Or are you just saying that?”

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whore : /

        Yes, well. 

        To him maybe.

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sinoracion.

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@sinoracion

oi

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"nnoitra-sama wanted to be alone." he looks at her once, "and you?"

        It’s a rare occurrence where she won’t see Tesla walking after the Espada. Though, it makes sense. So, she tilts her head at him silently, a lock of dark hair brushing her cheek, “I’m looking for someone.”

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he nods at her once.

        she’s wondering why he’s alone for once.

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How they’d loved to cut themselves on each other, taste their own blood. We are ruinous together, she thinks. But how else can we live, these days, except in the midst of ruin?

Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin (via slytherinwritess)