Jaina (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
effervescible) wrote2006-11-01 10:40 am
effervescible) wrote2006-11-01 10:40 am
Happy post-pr0ntober, y'all!
I did it! I finished pr0ntober! Couldn't have done it without ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
raynos, who halfway told me what to write for the last three prompts, including her own. And cuz I like keeping these things organized and am an attention whore, here's the full round-up (in two posts):
Ichigo/Rukia, assessment
She was doing it again.
Ichigo paused in the middle of his training kata to look at Rukia, who was perched on one of the rocks in Urahara’s training area. She quickly looked away—it was just a flit of her eyes, cuz she was trying to be subtle about it, but it was enough to confirm his suspicions.
She was staring at his ass again.
He wasn’t sure how he knew that it was his ass, specifically, that seemed to so occupy her attention, instead of his back or whatever else she could be looking at. He just knew. She wasn’t supposed to be looking at him, anyway, at least not like that. She was supposed to be training him, or something—not sitting there watching him get sweaty. Well, enough of that.
Her eyes grew wide as he stalked over. “What are you doing? Get back to work, you’re supposed to be—“
“Why are you ogling me?”
“I was not ogling you.” She glared. “I was assessing you. That is my job as your liaison to Soul Society, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said. He wasn’t so sure. It made sense for her to be the one to work with, but lately there had been all these little signs that that wasn’t the only reason she stuck around. The little looks, occasional touches. And while Ichigo knew he wasn’t stupid, he’d also cop to some obliviousness as far as girls went—if he’d just seen it recently, who knew how long it had been going on?
The occasional sweaty dreams that featured a lot of Rukia and not a lot of clothes didn’t help. “I’m just saying, if you wanna jump me so badly…” He hesitated. “Eh, never mind.” He turned away, blushing furiously. “Not like you could handle me anyway.”
Behind him, he heard the sound of a clipboard hitting the ground. “Oh REALLY.”
Before he could move, she’d tackled him, slamming his face into the dirt. “OI, RUKIA, WHAT THE HELL?”
“You’re a moron.” Just as quickly, she flipped him over and moved so she was straddling his hips. “You know that, right? A complete moron.”
He stared up at her for a moment, trying to think of something to say—and then decided fuck it and pulled her down to kiss her.
“Mmf. Yeah. A moron…whatever you say.”
“Yes. I don’t know why I put up with…do that again.”
The fuzzy part of his brain wondered if this could still count as training, or at least sparring, with with all the rolling around. This train of thought was interrupted when Rukia sat up again, rubbing up purposely against somewhere she really shouldn’t if she wanted him to work on his…stamina.
“Rukia,” he gulped. “Maybe we shouldn’t…”
“You are my student now,” she said lowly. “We. Are. Training.” With that, she took his hands in hers and slid them beneath the border of her top, directly over her breasts.
Ichigo stopped arguing.
***
Urahara was there when they finally climbed out of the basement area into the shop, fan flapping as always. “Kuchiki-san, Kurosaki-kun.” He nodded in greeting. “How was the training?”
Ichigo felt himself turn bright red, but Rukia just sauntered forward and through the door. “It was all right,” she called behind her. “But he still needs a lot more work.”
Ichigo nodded and hurried after her, not wanting Sandal-Hat to look at him and know, but the words quickly caught up to his brain. “HEY!”
Ikkaku/Nemu, Secrets
There were times when no one could find Ikkaku. He wasn't training. He wasn't He wasn't drinking with the guys or stuffing his face.
There were times when Mayuri could not find his disobedient daughter and would surely beat her later. But other than that he paid it no mind.
Nemu and Ikkaku weren't having sex. Not at first. In the beginning, he'd just felt bad for her and wanted to get her away from her crazy father for a while. He didn't have anything against hitting girls, but it had to be in a real fight. She'd gone with him, but whether it was because she liked him or she was too used to being obedient, he couldn't say.
"Why aren't you afraid of me?" he asked once. "I could be draggin' you off to take advantage of you."
"They say you're gay, and with Ayasegawa-san," she replied.
"Uh huh." He eyed her. "They say you're a doll. That you got no feelings."
She merely looked at him and said nothing.
Not many words passed between them again, until he's hard and inside her and fucking her like tomorrow's never gonna come, not until they do. "Lemme tell you a secret," he hissed. "I ain't gay."
She ground against him, wet enough he thought he might drown. "I have one as well," she whispers, eyes bright and voice more animated and alive than it's ever been. "I'm not a doll."
Hollow!Ichigo/Rukia, teeth
For all the intimate ways they've come to know each other, Rukia has never met Ichigo's hollow. She's never outright asked, and he's always been clear on the matter; he will never let the thing take control again if he can help it. Despite a morbid curiosity she does her best to quash, Rukia never questions him and never meets it, until it decides to make its own introduction.
They're in the middle of an extremely satisfying bout of lovemaking--and with Ichigo, it is always making love, never just sex--when it happens. She has her head thrown back on the pillow, sensations building inside her, when his thrusts get a little less gentle, his touches a little less soft. This just drives her closer to the edge and she clenches her legs around his hips, anticipating.
He moves faster, harder, and takes her hands in his, pressing them into the pillow on either side of her head. She's there, right on the precipice of orgasm when he laughs, the sound high and thin. "Rukia-chan," he hisses. "It's nice to meet you."
Her eyes fly open, meeting his yellow ones as he presses into her once more and she comes beneath his touch. The hollow never blinks.
It doesn't last long. The hollow sates itself on her--arousal or horror keeps her from crying out--and afterwards, Ichigo's body is a passed-out lump that's nearly crushing her. He often falls asleep right after sex and is a heavy sleeper, so when he displays only fuzzy memories and no suspicion in the morning, Rukia does not tell him.
There is no need. What happened was an aberration. Ichigo has held iron control over the hollow for ages now--if he slipped once, it is not his fault. It never occurs to Rukia that perhaps this control is a result of the hollow biding its time, until it happens again. And again.
It isn't too often--even Ichigo would eventually notice frequent blackouts in bed. But it is often enough. It never shows its face too early, always allows them to strip each other and build a heat between them before it wrests control from its unknowing host. She never knows when it will happen, but understands as soon as it does from the way the thing moves. The hollow never makes love to her. The hollow fucks her.
The things it does to her--where Ichigo caresses her, the hollow rakes her with its nails. Where Ichigo lays her back on the bed to give her pleasure, the hollow twists her into the most obscene positions. Where Ichigo coaxes an orgasm from her, the hollow demands one, setting her nerves on fire and biting into her skin until her control breaks.
Despite it all, she never thinks of telling Ichigo the truth. She knows that despite all he's gone through to suppress the thing inside him, this will break him. He will pull away from her, from everyone the hollow could hurt, and he needs her, almost as much as she needs him. Telling him will only hurt him. If this is what it takes to keep the hollow from lashing out in other ways, she will do it. This is not being unfaithful--this is bearing a burden for him, one she takes on with no regret and only a little ashamed at the wanton she becomes when it comes out.
It is a lie of omission she is content with, until another evening when Ichigo gives her that look and proceeds to kiss his way down her body, drawing her legs apart so he can go down on her. He pulls up short suddenly, an expression she can't recognize on his face, and traces the shape of a distinct bite mark on her inner thigh--one she never noticed or she would've healed it into nothingness--and asks a question she has no good answer to. "Where did this come from?"
Hitsugaya/Matsumoto, branded
Hitsugaya is a prodigy, and young for a captain of the Gotei 13, but he's no babe in the woods; he is still a man. He's just short. And though he'd never dignify such criticism by acknowledging it, he is content to know that there are those who see beyond matters of such little stature.
Take his vice-captain, for instance, lying naked beside him, blanket covering her only to the waist, snoring like an ox. He'd like to think it was him who wore her out so thoroughly, but he sees her during her daily afternoon nap, and the sound of sawing logs is nothing new. That doesn't stop him from smiling at the memory of how she got this way.
He lets his mind wander as he gets dressed (and Matsumoto DID work hard yesterday, even before certain evening activities, so he'll let her sleep instead of dragging her to the office). No one expected anything like this to happen between them. He was too professional; she, too everything else. But they've always been a team, and when it did happen, they weren't drunk or high on victory or anything else that would explain away their actions. They were them, and afterwards, they were still a team.
Still, Hitsugaya is a discreet man, and doesn't make a show of the new dimension of their relationship, but everyone seems to be looking at him this morning. Looking and giggling--not what he expects from his subordinates. He spends most of the morning snapping at people to get back to work until he catches a glimpse of his reflection while polishing his sword.
Hickeys. Large ones. All over his neck.
Matsumoto will be doing extra paperwork for a month.
Renji/Rukia, sunshine
For years, Renji dreamed of what sex would be like between him and his best friend. He was a fool in love, so of course he assumed it would be glorious. But even fools can be right once in a while, and as he found out once all the execution bullshit was over with, it was glorious.
And not just for him--he'd discovered after a really damn fun period of testing that Rukia liked it just as much, which meant with the right touches and dirty whispers, he could actually seduce her. And if he tried really hard, he could seduce her in highly inappropriate places.
Like here, for instance. For the duration of this mission in the living world, Renji's got his own room in the Shoten, but that doesn't mean it's a good idea to have sex there. He can't help it. The way she says his name, the feel of her mouth on his skin, the delicious heat of being inside her...hell, he's only human.
It's fucking sentimental, but when when she comes, he thinks her smile looks like sunshine. It's a good moment, at least until they get dressed and leave the room to find the rest of the team assembled for a meeting.
Later, after much apologizing, Rukia deigns to allow him to touch her again. She smiles like sunshine again, and he thinks everything is good--and that's the last thing he remembers.
He's not sure how long he was out, but when he wakes up, it's daylight, and he's out in the yard of the shoten, limbs locked up with a binding spell. He's wearing Chappy boxers and, he soon finds out, has a lot of funny marks on his face that aren't tattoos.
That's the thing about sunshine, he reflects ruefully. It burns.
raynos, who halfway told me what to write for the last three prompts, including her own. And cuz I like keeping these things organized Ichigo/Rukia, assessment
She was doing it again.
Ichigo paused in the middle of his training kata to look at Rukia, who was perched on one of the rocks in Urahara’s training area. She quickly looked away—it was just a flit of her eyes, cuz she was trying to be subtle about it, but it was enough to confirm his suspicions.
She was staring at his ass again.
He wasn’t sure how he knew that it was his ass, specifically, that seemed to so occupy her attention, instead of his back or whatever else she could be looking at. He just knew. She wasn’t supposed to be looking at him, anyway, at least not like that. She was supposed to be training him, or something—not sitting there watching him get sweaty. Well, enough of that.
Her eyes grew wide as he stalked over. “What are you doing? Get back to work, you’re supposed to be—“
“Why are you ogling me?”
“I was not ogling you.” She glared. “I was assessing you. That is my job as your liaison to Soul Society, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said. He wasn’t so sure. It made sense for her to be the one to work with, but lately there had been all these little signs that that wasn’t the only reason she stuck around. The little looks, occasional touches. And while Ichigo knew he wasn’t stupid, he’d also cop to some obliviousness as far as girls went—if he’d just seen it recently, who knew how long it had been going on?
The occasional sweaty dreams that featured a lot of Rukia and not a lot of clothes didn’t help. “I’m just saying, if you wanna jump me so badly…” He hesitated. “Eh, never mind.” He turned away, blushing furiously. “Not like you could handle me anyway.”
Behind him, he heard the sound of a clipboard hitting the ground. “Oh REALLY.”
Before he could move, she’d tackled him, slamming his face into the dirt. “OI, RUKIA, WHAT THE HELL?”
“You’re a moron.” Just as quickly, she flipped him over and moved so she was straddling his hips. “You know that, right? A complete moron.”
He stared up at her for a moment, trying to think of something to say—and then decided fuck it and pulled her down to kiss her.
“Mmf. Yeah. A moron…whatever you say.”
“Yes. I don’t know why I put up with…do that again.”
The fuzzy part of his brain wondered if this could still count as training, or at least sparring, with with all the rolling around. This train of thought was interrupted when Rukia sat up again, rubbing up purposely against somewhere she really shouldn’t if she wanted him to work on his…stamina.
“Rukia,” he gulped. “Maybe we shouldn’t…”
“You are my student now,” she said lowly. “We. Are. Training.” With that, she took his hands in hers and slid them beneath the border of her top, directly over her breasts.
Ichigo stopped arguing.
***
Urahara was there when they finally climbed out of the basement area into the shop, fan flapping as always. “Kuchiki-san, Kurosaki-kun.” He nodded in greeting. “How was the training?”
Ichigo felt himself turn bright red, but Rukia just sauntered forward and through the door. “It was all right,” she called behind her. “But he still needs a lot more work.”
Ichigo nodded and hurried after her, not wanting Sandal-Hat to look at him and know, but the words quickly caught up to his brain. “HEY!”
Ikkaku/Nemu, Secrets
There were times when no one could find Ikkaku. He wasn't training. He wasn't He wasn't drinking with the guys or stuffing his face.
There were times when Mayuri could not find his disobedient daughter and would surely beat her later. But other than that he paid it no mind.
Nemu and Ikkaku weren't having sex. Not at first. In the beginning, he'd just felt bad for her and wanted to get her away from her crazy father for a while. He didn't have anything against hitting girls, but it had to be in a real fight. She'd gone with him, but whether it was because she liked him or she was too used to being obedient, he couldn't say.
"Why aren't you afraid of me?" he asked once. "I could be draggin' you off to take advantage of you."
"They say you're gay, and with Ayasegawa-san," she replied.
"Uh huh." He eyed her. "They say you're a doll. That you got no feelings."
She merely looked at him and said nothing.
Not many words passed between them again, until he's hard and inside her and fucking her like tomorrow's never gonna come, not until they do. "Lemme tell you a secret," he hissed. "I ain't gay."
She ground against him, wet enough he thought he might drown. "I have one as well," she whispers, eyes bright and voice more animated and alive than it's ever been. "I'm not a doll."
Hollow!Ichigo/Rukia, teeth
For all the intimate ways they've come to know each other, Rukia has never met Ichigo's hollow. She's never outright asked, and he's always been clear on the matter; he will never let the thing take control again if he can help it. Despite a morbid curiosity she does her best to quash, Rukia never questions him and never meets it, until it decides to make its own introduction.
They're in the middle of an extremely satisfying bout of lovemaking--and with Ichigo, it is always making love, never just sex--when it happens. She has her head thrown back on the pillow, sensations building inside her, when his thrusts get a little less gentle, his touches a little less soft. This just drives her closer to the edge and she clenches her legs around his hips, anticipating.
He moves faster, harder, and takes her hands in his, pressing them into the pillow on either side of her head. She's there, right on the precipice of orgasm when he laughs, the sound high and thin. "Rukia-chan," he hisses. "It's nice to meet you."
Her eyes fly open, meeting his yellow ones as he presses into her once more and she comes beneath his touch. The hollow never blinks.
It doesn't last long. The hollow sates itself on her--arousal or horror keeps her from crying out--and afterwards, Ichigo's body is a passed-out lump that's nearly crushing her. He often falls asleep right after sex and is a heavy sleeper, so when he displays only fuzzy memories and no suspicion in the morning, Rukia does not tell him.
There is no need. What happened was an aberration. Ichigo has held iron control over the hollow for ages now--if he slipped once, it is not his fault. It never occurs to Rukia that perhaps this control is a result of the hollow biding its time, until it happens again. And again.
It isn't too often--even Ichigo would eventually notice frequent blackouts in bed. But it is often enough. It never shows its face too early, always allows them to strip each other and build a heat between them before it wrests control from its unknowing host. She never knows when it will happen, but understands as soon as it does from the way the thing moves. The hollow never makes love to her. The hollow fucks her.
The things it does to her--where Ichigo caresses her, the hollow rakes her with its nails. Where Ichigo lays her back on the bed to give her pleasure, the hollow twists her into the most obscene positions. Where Ichigo coaxes an orgasm from her, the hollow demands one, setting her nerves on fire and biting into her skin until her control breaks.
Despite it all, she never thinks of telling Ichigo the truth. She knows that despite all he's gone through to suppress the thing inside him, this will break him. He will pull away from her, from everyone the hollow could hurt, and he needs her, almost as much as she needs him. Telling him will only hurt him. If this is what it takes to keep the hollow from lashing out in other ways, she will do it. This is not being unfaithful--this is bearing a burden for him, one she takes on with no regret and only a little ashamed at the wanton she becomes when it comes out.
It is a lie of omission she is content with, until another evening when Ichigo gives her that look and proceeds to kiss his way down her body, drawing her legs apart so he can go down on her. He pulls up short suddenly, an expression she can't recognize on his face, and traces the shape of a distinct bite mark on her inner thigh--one she never noticed or she would've healed it into nothingness--and asks a question she has no good answer to. "Where did this come from?"
Hitsugaya/Matsumoto, branded
Hitsugaya is a prodigy, and young for a captain of the Gotei 13, but he's no babe in the woods; he is still a man. He's just short. And though he'd never dignify such criticism by acknowledging it, he is content to know that there are those who see beyond matters of such little stature.
Take his vice-captain, for instance, lying naked beside him, blanket covering her only to the waist, snoring like an ox. He'd like to think it was him who wore her out so thoroughly, but he sees her during her daily afternoon nap, and the sound of sawing logs is nothing new. That doesn't stop him from smiling at the memory of how she got this way.
He lets his mind wander as he gets dressed (and Matsumoto DID work hard yesterday, even before certain evening activities, so he'll let her sleep instead of dragging her to the office). No one expected anything like this to happen between them. He was too professional; she, too everything else. But they've always been a team, and when it did happen, they weren't drunk or high on victory or anything else that would explain away their actions. They were them, and afterwards, they were still a team.
Still, Hitsugaya is a discreet man, and doesn't make a show of the new dimension of their relationship, but everyone seems to be looking at him this morning. Looking and giggling--not what he expects from his subordinates. He spends most of the morning snapping at people to get back to work until he catches a glimpse of his reflection while polishing his sword.
Hickeys. Large ones. All over his neck.
Matsumoto will be doing extra paperwork for a month.
Renji/Rukia, sunshine
For years, Renji dreamed of what sex would be like between him and his best friend. He was a fool in love, so of course he assumed it would be glorious. But even fools can be right once in a while, and as he found out once all the execution bullshit was over with, it was glorious.
And not just for him--he'd discovered after a really damn fun period of testing that Rukia liked it just as much, which meant with the right touches and dirty whispers, he could actually seduce her. And if he tried really hard, he could seduce her in highly inappropriate places.
Like here, for instance. For the duration of this mission in the living world, Renji's got his own room in the Shoten, but that doesn't mean it's a good idea to have sex there. He can't help it. The way she says his name, the feel of her mouth on his skin, the delicious heat of being inside her...hell, he's only human.
It's fucking sentimental, but when when she comes, he thinks her smile looks like sunshine. It's a good moment, at least until they get dressed and leave the room to find the rest of the team assembled for a meeting.
Later, after much apologizing, Rukia deigns to allow him to touch her again. She smiles like sunshine again, and he thinks everything is good--and that's the last thing he remembers.
He's not sure how long he was out, but when he wakes up, it's daylight, and he's out in the yard of the shoten, limbs locked up with a binding spell. He's wearing Chappy boxers and, he soon finds out, has a lot of funny marks on his face that aren't tattoos.
That's the thing about sunshine, he reflects ruefully. It burns.
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And oh Renji... He's a redhead! He'll get second degree burns! Noooo! (Loved that one. Chappy boxers. Hee!)
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At least they can give Renji tongue baths to heal him?
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Naturally. ^_^
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♥♥♥♥♥♥ I give you many hearts.
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*drool*
Great job!!!! >A
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