#aaroniero

prompted, always accepting.

Was she daydreaming? Kaien-dono's soft and friendly tone almost always followed with a chuckle-- perhaps it was a distant memory, the one from a dream she once had but-- but reality turned to be different as her eyes spotted the Espada she killed to her horror. Her body would freeze, and she'd become mute yet rage-- it was enough to start swift movements of her hands, grabbing tsuka of her sword, pulling it out, and pointing it at the enemy

"You. How dare you?" a cold-toned reply wrapped in wrath. "I don't care how you survived; you shall die again and again if needed. You will not stain Kaien-dono's name any further!"

62. “Touch yourself.”

“Touch yourself,” you tell him, as if that’s not far worse than just doing it yourself. Aaroniero remains mystified by the fact that you want to handle his disturbing body, in the first place, but what you’re asking now—

Still, the temptation remains. The things you do to him feel good; perhaps he could find even a fraction of that pleasure in his own touch, too.

“...are you going to watch?” he asks, one head daring to voice the insecurity even though admitting to weakness still feels so terribly wrong. Even if you claim not to be sickened by the sight of him, the weight of someone else’s gaze never stops making him feel terribly exposed. 

“I’d like to,” is your easy response. “You’re pretty. I like to see you.”

Those words alone send a shiver rippling down his nerves. Despite all better judgment, the prospect of more praise wins out over his shame. With his body still holding its human shape together well enough (for now), Aaroniero lets a hand wander down to between this body’s thighs. The slit on his pelvis is the most abnormal thing visible yet, and it leaks a thin trail of red-tinted fluid when his tentative touch slightly spreads the outer skin.

It doesn’t feel the same as when you do it. His hands are too cold, too uncertain, and the slow press of two digits invading the tight, slick hole ends up more invasive than anything. Still, the internal nerves there are almost painfully sensitive, and Aaroniero reflexively jerks his hand away.

“You can do it, sweetheart,” you assure him, as one warm palm comes to rest on his waist. Your interested, eager tone is bad enough, but then you’re pressing on his belly, coaxing, and his body responds all on its own. 

His tentacles come rushing out, trained to anticipate stimulation when you’re handling him like this. They squirm and creep upwards to reach for you, but you keep your hand too far away to touch. Arousal leaves him dizzy, and erodes what’s left of his pride— when you don’t do it, Aaroniero gives in to impulse and lets them curl around his own hand, instead. 

His unfamiliar, hesitant touch isn’t the same, but it’s good enough to soothe some of the agitated ache that’s been building. The tentacles coil wetly around his fingers just as they would yours, and cling; anything to wrap around and squeeze feels better than squirming uselessly in open air.

An inhuman whine escapes him. His body twitches, uncomfortably confined by the disguise still in place. It would be easier to let go of the human appearance altogether, to not have to focus on keeping it intact, but—

“Stop staring. Don’t watch this,” Aaroniero tries to demand. Even in the deeper voice, it comes out shamefully pleading. 

“But I want to see. It feels good, doesn’t it?” 

... what would his reaction/thoughts be to reader who is fascinated to the point of being fixated with his tentacles and his squishiness (yes, I made up a word. Couldn't think of one that would fit properly!)? Not necessarily in a sexual way, they just love how unique he is and love being close to him and holding him and stuff...

Yep, I'm weird!

Have a nice day!!

Our special tentacle boy deserves the best! That's why I uhh... kind of got carried away with this one. And it pleases me greatly that I'm recognized as the top Aaroniero writer... owo

. . .

• Aaroniero has no idea how to respond to that attention. His body is an abomination, a mistake at best, and a freakish, poorly-made sack of flesh at the most honest. He's what happens when a weak, regressed Hollow is forced into whatever semblance of humanity it can manage, and the results are repulsive even to himself. The way he became is good enough for survival, for keeping himself alive and whatever passes for "safe" in an Arrancar's existence, but it's not anything to be cherished— especially by a human.

• It's hard to believe that you're serious. The interest comes across as mocking, at first. You're going out of your way to draw attention to his bizarre, unnatural body, and the insistence on seeing him at his most inhuman makes Aaroniero want to wither away and not have to face the scrutiny of the one person he's so shamefully desperate to be accepted by. It's only natural to assume you'll be disturbed by what you find. Disgusted, likely. Exposing the soft flesh of his real body is sickeningly vulnerable, and yet, he's doing it for no other purpose than to satisfy your curiosity. He doesn't want you to see it, but your insistence is impossible to deny.

• Somehow, the result is even worse than he'd expected. The constant examination and open fixation on what anyone else would see as disgusting hovers somewhere between humiliating and far too kind. You have to be lying. You have to be. You're careful when you handle him, gentle to the point of agony on nerves that have never known non-violent touch. His tentacles coil around your fingers all on their own, seeking warmth, and Aaroniero is too caught up in that intensity to stop them.

43. “Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Get yourself ready for me,” you tell him. 

The thought is vaguely nauseating, but when you’ve already spent so much time touching him, working his unpleasant body into a state of desperate arousal, Aaroniero doesn’t have the willpower to protest. 

“Is this really necessary? It’s fine as it is...” he asks anyway, hoping that you’ll have some mercy and not make him go through with it. 

“It is. I want to see you,” is your response, as your warm, warm hand rests temptingly on his thigh. “You can do it. Just go slow, okay? I’ll make it worth it for you, I promise. I’ll make you feel so good.” You kiss the closest tentacle— and that makes Aaroniero’s everything flush with heat. 

Even though he knows it’ll be disgusting, he reaches down with one hand. It takes some effort to hold the shape together properly. This aroused, he doesn’t have the focus to maintain his solidity very well... so extending a few tentacles to mimic the form of fingers is the best he can manage. Nonetheless, the first tentative rub of their slick surface against his slit sends a shivering bolt of pleasure through his nerves. 

Hoping to get it over with quickly, Aaroniero allows the first one to slide inside maybe a bit too quickly. The sudden stretch forces a tense, quiet noise out of him, and the sensation of even that one tentacle’s girth coiling against his insides is enough to make his hips twitch into his hand. 

It’s every bit as repulsive as he’d expected, though, so he adds the second one quickly. This time, the stretch really does sting— too much, too fast. And yet, that doesn’t matter. He just needs to be done with this. 

At the third one, forced in just as quickly, you notice that he’s rushing. “No, not like that,” you scold, as your careful fingers slowly pull that third tentacle out of his slick-dripping slit. “Slowly, now. I’m not going anywhere, and you don’t need to rush. I know this is hard for you— let me help.”

Just like that, you start rubbing at the outer edge of his slit, coaxing the tender, puffy flesh to relax. His two remaining tentacles squirm and coil where they’re still inside, and the resulting shock of pleasure makes his whole body shudder and spasm. “Hurry up,” his high voice whines. Then, both in unison— “Get it over with. Don’t make me wait.”

You only give a non-committal hum. You’re kind enough to slowly work one finger inside and rub at the inner walls of his slit, but it’s still not enough. The texture of your skin against tentacles and oversensitive tissue alike is too much all over again, and yet, Aaroniero still hopes you’ll be done with this soon so that this torturous touching can end. So you can fuck him properly and stop making him squirm from just this much. 

I wrote a LOT yesterday and I’m so so so excited with how this is coming out XD