bakerstreet | Call me, call me any, anytime!

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Call me, call me any, anytime!

the phone sex +
sexting meme

what it says on the tin. leave a blank comment, include your preferences or a starter, it's all good. reply to others with a text, a dirty picture (please link all nsfw things!), misfires, misdials, drunk filthy voicemails, whatever your heart desires.

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[The oxygen that floods his almost desperate lungs is all Ichigo can focus on for a minute when Ryuuko lets him go, but god damnit if her words don't fill him with some serious rage. This bitch can't be serious, how fucking delusional is she?! And is she deaf, on top of it? He already told her, it was a goddamn tie, and she's just here trying to crush him underneath her with no foundation for it, whatsoever.

Ryuuko is done for. If there was ever a way to make Ichigo forget about his anxiety and embarrassment, pinning him down to the bed, choking him and trying to degrade the fuck out of him was it. The only warning she gets, once Ichigo has caught his breath again, is an extremely dark look shot at her from over his shoulder.

And then he moves, fast. Now that she has drawn back, it's not hard for him to push up on one arm and sort of twist underneath her, aiming to give himself more range. Ichigo's hand shoots out, hand wrapping itself around her throat with a grip that doesn't aim to choke her, yet, but is tight enough that he is able to pull Ryuuko towards him a little bit. And then, with frightening ease, he slams her onto her back on the bed beside him.

Ichigo doesn't remove his hand as he finishes pushing himself up onto his knees, in fact that grip does suddenly tighten dangerously, as if to tell her not to fucking move, as he plants his other hand just beside her head and leans in close to her face. He looks pissed, but there is no denying that there is a heat in his eyes, and should she glance down, Ryuuko will be able to see that all of that pinning and choking definitely has him as hard as a rock already. Ichigo should probably be embarrassed about that, but he's just too far gone on the rage front to even consider it.]

You wanna say that again to my face? [Parroting those words she spoke earlier, his lips curl up into a sneer as he hisses at her, with Ichigo holding back nothing as he aims to tear her down as hard as she just tried to do to him. He does loosen his grip a little bit after a moment, realizing that there was no way she would have been able to breathe under the pressure he was putting there.] You're the one who got let off easy, Ryuuko, don't be so fucking delusional. It's not cute, at all. And it was a tie, you goddamn brat.

[it's not that she expected him to just lie there and quietly accept her abuse, then she'd really have to worry that something was wrong. but to say she's shocked when his hand cinches around her throat would be a vast understatement. of all the moves she might've anticipated he'd make, this never even landed on her radar. it's the quickest and most effective way to cripple her, so in retrospect she should have been prepared to block. instead, all she can do is stare back at him wide eyed before she's yanked forward by the neck, the rest of her body just along for the ride, until he literally flips her world upside down.

it takes her a moment to realize she's on her back, barely given a few seconds for her mind to catch up with her body before his grip squeezes tighter. her pulse throbs harshly in her neck, reverberating in her head as her oxygen supply is cut. Ryuuko grunts, a strangled, feral sound that dies in her throat. her pupils contract, pale blue eyes blown wide at the award winning realization that he's fucking choking her. he's got some nerve, this guy. pulling a twisted ass stunt like this-- ..... not that she can talk, really. she did just pin him to the mattress and trap him in a headlock. so.

it's not her first rendezvous with asphyxiation... except none of the other times were in bed.

maybe the most alarming part about all of it, is that even as her heart hammers against her chest as a primal reaction to what essentially boils down to a potential threat against her life.... Ryuuko can't help but find that thrilling. apparently, so does Ichigo- but she doesn't have the mind to inspect his very prominent erection. right now, all she can do is wrestle for air as the blood rushes to her head and her vision starts to blur. the second his grip loosens, Ryuuko's body is acting on that fight or flight instinct.

her fist hurtles against his jaw with enough force to shatter bones and dislodge teeth, grimacing up at him and hissing against the immediate burn in her knuckles from the force of her punch.]

G-G...et... the-- hell offa me!!

[Ichigo fully anticipates that Ryuuko will react violently--there might even be a part of him that is blatantly asking for it. The part of himself that he'd discovered last night, the kind of dark realization that Ichigo Kurosaki likes being abused when it's paired with arousal. Being definitively able to call himself a masochist is something he will absolutely be horrified about later, but right now, the ache between his legs is dictating that he is going to welcome whatever is about to come his way.

Which... might be a slight mistake, on his part. Ryuuko is fucking fast, and her strength is nothing to joke about. Having known it was coming, Ichigo's reflexes save him from taking some very serious damage, but the way he tries to draw back and dodge is just a hair too slow. The impact is tremendous, an explosion of hot white fire in the side of his entire face that makes Ichigo's ears ring, and brings a blossom of stars to his eyes immediately. His head snaps to the side hard as he lets out a shout, the hand on her throat releasing it's hold so that he can bring it up to... ghost over the spot that he can't bring himself to actually touch. The blood wells up in his mouth almost instantly, and the taller teen is leaning back to sit on his heels as he tries to assess the damage with a hard frown.

His tongue slides over to very gently run a line along his teeth, to make sure they're not about to fucking fall out of his skull, and he finds that a couple of them are loose, but still in tact at least. The amount of blood, from the cuts on the inside of his cheek and the aforementioned teeth, is a little bit ridiculous, and Ichigo is spitting the mouthful of it into his hand. Only to realize he has nowhere to put it.

None of the heat is gone from his eyes as he turns his gaze to Ryuuko again, in fact, there's probably only more of it, but... he's taking the moment, if she'll let him. The throb emanating up the entirety of one side of his face is a little bit much for him to want to retaliate yet, but he can try to throw her off guard with an uncharacteristic compliment while he decides just how far he is willing to go in his revenge.]

Nice shot... fuck!

[Let her wonder what the fuck he is about to do. Let it just sit there and fester. Ryuuko better take this opportunity of daze and pain to do something, or she might find herself regretting it once Ichigo has gathered himself.]

[in the time it takes for him to reel back and inspect the state of his jaw, Ryuuko pushes herself up into a seated position. the hand that hit him hangs limp over her lap, while the other reaches up to rub her neck, breaths ragged as she labors to refill her lungs. her eyes never once leave him, watching carefully-- cautiously even. assessing him at the same time he evaluates himself. she knows that hurt, she knows because her hand is on fire and she's the one who delivered the blow.

as the uncomfortable silence stretches on between them, Ryuuko can feel nervous energy radiating off her body in waves. she has absolutely no clue what the fuck he's gonna do next. she just punched the ever living daylights out of him, and he looks seriously pissed, not that she can really blame him there. she doesn't want to imagine what he's going to do in retaliation, doesn't want her mind to wander down any unnecessary dark paths. did she just completely fuck this whole thing up in it's entirety? what kind of fucked up S&M bullshit script did she unknowingly sign up for?

shit. shit shit shit and more shit!!!!

watching as he spits fresh blood into his hand, she has to fight the urge to wince. this stupid idiot. this STUPID fucking IDIOT. why'd he have to go and make her do that??? she opens her mouth, not to apologize or anything like that because... he kind of deserved it. but to say something... only, he beats her to the punchline, this time. and she sits there, completely dumbstruck for a moment. before her face is twisting into a heated scowl.]

A-Are you insane? I could've broken your friggin' jaw just now, and all you can say, is nice shot!?

[grabbing a pillow beside her she thwacks him with it, mixed emotions welling up inside of her that leave her feeling both angry and guilty. and then she's moving, sliding right off the bed and stomping over to the door and disappearing down the hall to the kitchen.

there's some miscellaneous rummaging, a few loudly muttered curses about nothing in particular, and then she's reappearing a moment later with a towel and a bag of frozen peas. he can choose to get back at her in whatever way he sees fit, but she's shoving that ice cold bag of peas against his cheek either way.]

Here, dumbass.

[Honestly? Watching her watch him, seeing that nervousness creep into every inch of her soul as she waits for it is satisfying enough in it's own right. But also, the fact that what he just did to her was... pretty fucking far over the top, and he knew it enough to expect something like this has his own sense of guilt starting to take root. He should probably apologize for choking her like that... it's just a matter of finding the words.

And that's enough to make the waves of fury start to ebb away.

Ichigo snorts at that, raising his arm to block the blow from the pillow, before watching her just. Take off. Leaving him to sit there, awkwardly, with his fucking thoughts and the seriously heinous throb in his jaw. And the hard-on, that even a devastating punch couldn't kill. What the fuck is wrong with him, seriously??

It seems like Ryuuko is back just as quickly as she had gone, and Ichigo is making a sound of pain as she is pressing the bag of frozen vegetables against his jaw. The glare he levels at her is nothing like the look he'd been giving earlier, though, and he raises the hand not holding his bloody spit to hold it there. It's a little soon, for him to want her hands that close to his face, honestly, and Ichigo kind of dips away from her once he has his own hold on it.]

Don't even start with me. I'm not in the mood for your crap right now. [Moving his jaw to talk fucking hurts, and Ichigo is just frowning harder and looking away from her. There's another silence that falls between them, a long pause before Ichigo cuts through it again, still not looking at her, his voice low. Apologetic.

He's not a total fucking savage, and he knows when to own up to his shit.]

...I deserved that. [It's not the exact words, but it's his kind of apology.] And it was a nice shot.

[the way he shrinks back from her hand has her rolling her eyes, dropping her hand to her side where her fingers twitch in towards her palm. it's not that his reaction bothers her, but well... it's not the best feeling. having the guy you invited to a literal fucking sleepover flinch for fear of getting hit. again.

she stares at him a moment, watching him full on sulk as he angles his head the opposite direction. after a few seconds, Ryuuko sighs, turning to plop down unceremoniously on the edge of the bed, lifting her feet to perch against the thin metal frame out of habit. one elbow digs into the top of her thigh and she hunches forward enough to press her mouth into the palm of her hand. the good one, not the one that's still throbbing in pain where it grips the hand towel against the edge of the mattress. that one is notably red at the point of impact, knuckles already having bruised and tinged an ugly shade of purple. she ignores it, in favor of just... staring blankly at the dusty furniture opposite her.

what a mess.

if anyone saw the sorry state of them right now, they'd probably assume they got into some seriously twisted back alley bar crawl, as many bruises and cuts and open wounds as they have.

Ryuuko lets the quiet stretch on, at a complete loss for what to do or say to somehow salvage whatever the fuck they had going for them. it's why, when Ichigo finally breaks the silence, she's surprised to hear him sounding so.... uncharacteristically penitent. her brows lift, glancing back at him from over her shoulder as she debates on how to respond. she doesn't dwell on it too long, though, not when he follows it up with that dumb backwards ass praise yet again.

exhaling some of the tension from her body, Ryuuko shifts her position, pulling her feet up onto the mattress and swerving to sit cross legged in front of him. she places her hands on her knees, giving him a pointed look before attempting to reach out to him. slowly, slowwwwly, like trying to help a wounded animal out in the wild, her gaze fixed on his expression to gauge his reaction. and if he lets her, she balls the towel to dab at his hand, the one full of blood, soaking it up a little at a time.]

You're pretty messed up... huh?

[physically... mentally.... both.]

[Now that some of her fire seems to have lessened, he's less worried that the next words to come out of his mouth might trigger her to haul off like a wicked fucking banshee and break his nose or something next. This time, Ichigo doesn't move an inch, other than to actually open the bloodied hand to let her wipe it away. Tense brown eyes watching her face closely.

What level of fucking hurricane has he gotten himself caught in here, really? How has he found himself sitting on Ryuuko's bed, naked as the day he was born, nursing a very narrowly not broken jaw, after a night of the most intense sex (not hard to achieve there, since he's only done it like once before this) he has ever had in his life? And how the fuck is it, that looking at Ryuuko who just as naked and scowling at him as she cleans up the carnage, still has Ichigo wanting more? How is it that she is able to make him lose complete control of himself on so many fronts?

His line of vision drops to her neck at that thought, expression darkening a little bit. Once his hand is clean, he moves it, reaching out slowly so as not to startle her, either, to tentatively and gently touch two fingertips to the fingermarks that are starting to blossom on her throat. It makes him frown more, and he raises those eyes to meet hers, still looking guilty as fuck as he responds to her question.]

I guess I am. [Ichigo obviously means more on the mental front, because jesus fucking christ. Really, what is wrong with him? How could he actually let himself do something like that? And the fact that it was almost easy is what disturbs him the most.]

...you okay? [He asks it, hesitantly, as he moves his hand to take the bloodied towel from her. Ichigo looks down at it, before raising it to his mouth so he can spit more blood into it.]

[she's diligent, eyes focused on the task of cleaning him up as she falls silent.

there's something about the normalcy of this she finds calming.... a somewhat disturbing thought, honestly. but out of everything they've experienced in the last several hours, the struggle that took place just now is the closest thing to a standard interaction between the two of them. granted, they're usually fully clothed (or at least partially) and facing off in some sort of field or arena specifically staged for the purpose of fighting. it'd be weird if one or both of them didn't emerge with a handful of bruises or a bloody nose.

ah, damn. is she really comparing the morning after to a fucking street fight, right now? what the actual fuck is wrong with them. she frowns a little harder, only for that same expression to soften again as he lifts his hand to lightly graze his fingertips against the marks she assumes have begun to appear on her neck where he'd nearly crushed her windpipe earlier. it hurts, but nowhere near as bad as the pain he's got to be enduring in the side of his face, right now.

she holds his gaze, sighing through her nose as she searches his eyes for answers.... and coming up empty handed, in the end. slouching a bit she eyes away from him, mulling over the thoughts swirling through her head.]

M'fine.

[her lips tense, dissatisfied with her own terse response. so, she clicks her tongue, and tries again.]

I'm in a helluva lot better shape than you are, that's for damn sure.

[The normalcy of the cleanup after a fight isn't lost on him... but there is no denying that some things have changed drastically in between them. The silence hanging in the air for one, with the seriousness that has taken over. The softer way she meets his eyes, the way that Ryuuko actually stops and thinks about what she is going to say instead of spouting out whatever bullshit insult comes to mind first?

And most importantly, the glaring, unavoidable sight of her not wearing a fucking thing but the panties he'd never taken off of her the night before.

Ichigo finds himself in a weird place of not knowing where to go from here, but one thing is certain, and he's not sure he knows what to do with that, either. That being the fact that the idea of leaving her presence fills him with a sense of disappointment. Even in the face of the fact that she nearly broke his fucking jaw. That Ryuuko has left so much evidence of their coupling on his body that he looks like the tried to fuck a goddamn polar bear, and not a teenage girl of her size.

He doesn't really like the way she looks away from him, so he reassures her in his typical cocky Ichigo fashion. A nudge to her knee with one hand to get her attention back on him.]

You know I can take much worse, this is nothin'. See? [It's not easy to open his mouth wide enough to show off the fact that all of his teeth, while completely red , are in each of their rightful places in his bloody mouth. Slowly, he closes his mouth again, daring to try to offer a faint smile.] All teeth are accounted for, and the jaw ain't broken, so I'm good.

[wow that uh. Ichigo, you look like shit buddy. the sight of glaringly red teeth is enough to make her cringe, her expression wrinkling, a cross between sympathy and disturbance at the way he attempts to shrug it off. a part of her knows he's just doing that for her sake.... but it really doesn't make her feel any better, seeing the damage she's done. it's not a pretty picture. she just stares at him, with a look that wordlessly questions his sanity. maybe... maybe she knocked loose whatever few screws he had bolted in place up top? should he see a doctor? a therapist... at the very least, probably.]

Uhhhh..... r-right.

[ugh, damn. something about this weird, intense air between them just doesn't sit right. it's like they're tip toeing around each other's feelings. something they never do. Ryuuko likes Ichigo because he tells it to her like it is. he's honest with his feelings, even if that means she won't necessarily like or approve of them. it's that rare connection where she feels like she doesn't have to hide, or filter herself to better accommodate others. she's never held back, with him, and she doesn't plan on starting now.]

You don't have to act like that, y'know.

[Ryuuko's gaze hardens a little, if only to relay the seriousness with which she means what she's about to say.]

I'd rather you chew my ear off about how bad it hurts, or hit me back... than sit here and listen to you tell me it's alright.

[she's not so emotionally frail that she can't handle the truth. because it's definitely not ok. and while a weaker person might find some twisted sense of relief in hearing someone else excuse their own shitty behavior, Ryuuko's just not that kind of person. she'd rather take responsibility for the pain she's caused him and own up to it, than allow him to attempt to simply absolve her of her guilt.]

[Well, the way that she just stares at him definitely has him losing the smile, eyebrows pulling down at the same time as his mouth to make that typical frown he's always got on his face. It deepens though, as her expression seems to get more serious, and there's a hint of confusion in there when the other teen goes and says that shit.

Well that was a quick way to kill his attempt to lighten the mood.]

I'm not, though. [A pause, and Ichigo just seems to frown even harder, lowering the hand that is holding the frozen peas to his cheek. This change of tune for them is... really fucking uncomfortable and weird, mostly because he is so used to them blaming each other for the things that happen that blaming themselves is just.

Unheard of. Maybe he was pissed, at first, but it was mostly the shock and pain that had him feeling that way. The fucking fingerprints on her neck are proof enough that this was absolutely his own doing, and it didn't take long for him to lose any vitriol he had about being hit so hard.]

Okay so. Fine, I was trying to lighten the damn mood. But seriously, Ryuuko, [A pause, because Ichigo is sighing and glancing away from her. That apologetic tone is slowly creeping back into his voice as he goes on. Needless to say, Ichigo is dealing with some serious shame about losing control of himself like that.] I took that way too goddamn far and anyone in their right mind woulda reacted like that. I'm surprised you haven't told me to get the fuck out, honestly...

[well fuck. he's clearly spiraling. which is the opposite of what she wanted. she just wanted him to call her a jerk and a bully and they could go back and forth for a while before the point became mute and they found something else to turn their attention to. instead they're forced to juggle this serious ass conversation about how fucked up they both are. and Ryuuko's not about it.]

Holy shit. Would you stop feeling so goddamn sorry for yourself??

[she snatches up the bag of peas, forcing it back against his cheek. he needs to ice it to keep the swelling down!! it's a little awkward at this angle, so she moves to kneel on the bed so she can be eye level with him, leaning in close enough to cradle it against his cheek properly without putting too much of a strain on her arm. she frowns, keeping her gaze on his cheek as opposed to looking him directly in the eye.]

You ought'a know by now; we're not like ordinary people.

[in fact, she'd have to seriously question someone who isn't her for letting Ichigo stay after some sick, abusive shit like that... but because it's them, she doesn't find it disturbing at all. which sounds... kinda fucked up, but it's true. they were like this, before she welcomed him into her bed. so it's not like she didn't already know what she was getting herself into. and maybe that makes her an idiot, for inviting even more of that crazy shit into her life. but there's no denying she'd craved having him long before last night. she still does..]

If I wanted you gone, I would've thrown you out on your ass, already.

[they have a common goal, at least. they both want to lighten the load of whatever this heavy feeling hanging in the air between them amounts to. she just doesn't want to skirt around the issue, to do it.]

I think a punch to the face is punishment enough, don't you?

[he doesn't need to keep tormenting himself, his jaw will be doing plenty of that for him over the next few hours.]

[Ichigo doesn't mean to jolt with a hiss when Ryuuko pushes the bag back to his cheek, but it really does hurt something fierce, and even if she doesn't do it hard, it sends that throb right through what feels like his entire skull. At first, he doesn't want to meet her gaze, either, now it's even closer, and he knows better than to think he is good at hiding the emotions on his face, in his eyes.

In a rare moment for him, Ichigo just lets her talk, no interjection, no argument. Just listening to what she says. Of course, he absolutely disagrees with the first and the last statement--it's not that he's feeling sorry by definition, for himself, necessarily. It's more that he fucking disturbed that he is even capable of some sick ass shit like that. He'd done it without a second thought, and sneered in her face about it, and it's just. So fucked up. But arguing it with her is pointless, and it's a whole other can of worms to open, knowing that he did that, and she doesn't want him gone. What that acceptance makes him feel is something deep, and he doesn't fucking know what to do with that, either.

After a really long stretch of silence, of not looking her in the face, Ichigo finally forces himself to raise that conflicted gaze and his hand, to take the wrist near his face gently as he responds, searching those oddly designed blue eyes of hers as if he might find answers there.]

No, I don't think so, but there isn't any damn point in arguing it with you, is there? You're just gonna brush me off and make me feel like my feelings are stupid, and I'll end up doing the same thing to you. So... can you just shut up and take my apology, and then we can move on without the headache? Cause frankly, I've got enough of one going as is...

[his flinch doesn't scare her off this time, since she's fully anticipating it, no matter how gently she tries to apply the makeshift ice pack. her own hand throbs painfully against the cold, since she's forced to hold it with the same one she'd punched him with earlier... seeing as it'd be a little awkward trying to position the other at the right angle when they're face to face like this. she tries not to think about how close they are, or how his body wordlessly calls out to her own like some kind of heated magnet. she'll have to push those thoughts aside, for right now. one hurtle at a time....

when he finally looks at her, and his hand finds her wrist she subconsciously holds her breath, turning her gaze to meet his and just, holding it, as those last few seconds of silence linger between them. it's kind of funny, she could've figured out what he wanted to say without him even saying it. and the realization that she can read him like an open book is kind of terrifying in a way. when had they gotten so close? to be able to tell what the other is thinking by a mere exchange of glances.

Ryuuko sighs, leaning forward that last little bit to nudge their foreheads together as she closes her eyes.]

Damn you're stubborn.

[his feelings are stupid.... but then, so are hers. there's no logical reason behind them at all, really. but they're there. and god, they're just as explosive as everything else between them. welling up inside and pushing towards the breaking point.]

If you're really hell bent on making it up to me... stay.

[the way she says it implies something more than just physically existing in the same space side by side. her body is certainly open for advancing further, lingering nice and close. the hand that's not held up in his grip nudges against his free one, before slipping her fingers in the spaces between his to loosely hold on. her voice slides out again in a low murmur, breath warm where it fogs against his lips.]

Promise I'm more durable than I look.

[It's not all that surprising, that she can read him that easily. Ichigo is pretty much an open book, but not only that, that kind of closeness tends to happen when you're constantly clashing blades, or words, or fists. What is surprising, is the nature of the closeness, and the sharp, deep turn it's taken so abruptly. The tension was building, for sure, but Ichigo never actually imagined that he would act on it, and now that he has, there's something nagging at his core, a sense of desire that isn't just physical.

Ichigo doesn't know what to do with it, at all. But it seems like he's going to have to figure it out, and quickly. Because the reading with ease goes both ways, and he full well knows that she doesn't just mean for him to stay in this apartment with her. The way she holds his hand, the almost affectionate way her forehead his pressed to his... they're all incredibly telling on that front. He can feel the heat rising in his face, but somehow he manages to respond evenly.]

...I know you are. It was the look you got when I did it. [That bothered him, he means. He's pretty sure that Ryuuko will pick up what he's putting down there, and Ichigo is quick to press on, not wanting to linger on what they had just agreed to let go.]... I'll stay.

[He lets the hand she holds in her's tighten it's grip, as if to solidify the vow he's just made, to stay and continue the fight, with her, through these treacherous, unfamiliar waters they've plunged into. He sort of presses his head in against Ryuuko's too, before making his move. It's not meant to be sexual, when he tips his head and slowly closes that distance between their lips. It's a soft kiss, another apology, and he doesn't actually linger there. So as not to give the wrong impression. Ichigo just moves back to their original spot prior to it, foreheads pressed together, content to just. Chill the fuck out for a minute, because everything that's happened since waking up has been frightfully intense.]

[it makes sense, if you're constantly having to anticipate someone's moves while fighting, that you'd become more familiar with the way their brain works. and she's found, he's a lot like her in a lot of ways. they'd both sooner tear themselves down than build themselves up. they both need a bit of a helping hand, in that department. for two people who'd probably preach their independence via four page long monologues, their codependency in this moment speaks volumes. she doesn't want Ichigo to leave, the thought of him turning his back on her and walking out the door somehow manages to scare her more than anything else.

"It was the look you got when I did it."

Ryuuko feels a pang of guilt tug at her chest, thoughts circling back to that moment. she can't take back the look on her face, not then, and not now where it remains etched into his memory. she wishes she could eradicate it from his brain, make him forget, prevent it from haunting him. but she can't. the only thing she can do is try to lessen the sting, to give him something else to hold onto. her lips welcome his, returning the kiss very carefully so as not to agitate his wounds. there's a bit of heat there in her face, too, as their noses brush and their foreheads meet again in the middle.]

Y-You surprised me...

[the look she'd given him, it was mainly shock. she pouts a little, feeling her cheeks burn hotter.]

And anyways I-I ... I didn't hate it. Maybe if we thought up some kinda safe word... or somethin'....

[kill her now pls. she can't believe she just admitted some part of her enjoyed whatever the fuck that was earlier. maybe not so much the way it went down. but the choking part wasn't the absolute worst thing. more just a crazy dangerous thing when one takes into account the sheer amount of strength they both possess. if it's not done with a clear head, the chances of one or both of them taking it too far over the top increase dramatically, not unlike what occurred a few minutes prior.]

I-I'm not saying I particularly want you to go out of your way to choke me, or anything!!

[shit she's just. digging this hole deeper, isn't she!]

Just uh... maybe.... don't squeeze so hard...?

[god the urge to bury her face in a pillow right now is POWERFUL.]

[The kiss hurts, but Ichigo refuses to show it in any way, shape or form. Not when Ryuuko almost seems like what he says to her makes her feel... bad? Remorseful for reacting in a completely reasonable manner?? Ichigo looks like he is about to say something, but then she goes on.

And what she says fucking floors him. Those brown eyes pop open wide, and naturally, Ichigo is turning an even darker shade of red as he registers just what the fuck she just said. It has him drawing back just a little bit, and without realizing it his hand tightens against Ryuuko's slightly.

For one, her not hating it, said that way, like it's a thing she's embarrassed about, like it's something that gave her a thrill. Mind blowing in it's own right, and also a complete mirror sentiment shared between them. Here comes the part where Ichigo completely kills the very heavy feelings almost effortlessly, with the way he stammers his way through trying to tell her that he fucking agrees.

Just the fact that a safe word might be a good fucking idea makes him want to crawl into a hole and die, and it shows.]

I... I don't. I didn't.... I [Fuck, shit, fuck. Not good. Get your fucking shit together, Ichigo!] I-I didn't. Mind it. When you were.... y-yknow. When you had me in that choke hold. A-at all... Maybe.... m-maybe we should... have a... [He can't even say the words 'safe word' out loud. Ichigo never... ever. Ever thought that he would be agreeing that he might need one. Like, ever.] I don't know. Shit.

[He can't do this while looking her in the eye, he just can't. And it's kind of amazing, how turning his head just slightly, in towards the makeshift icepack, helps. It's just way too intense for him to talk about something this kinky with those blue eyes right fucking there in his face.] I-I don't think I could ever do that to you again, unless.... u-unless you asked me to....

[wow this is. wow.

Ryuuko's heart feels like it's going to hammer straight through her chest as Ichigo struggles to get his words out. a part of her worries she made a mistake, admitting something like that. would he think she's totally off her rocker for enjoying something so twisted? it is.... incredibly tempting to just crawl beneath the covers and hide. despite the rising sense of dread that he'll find fault in her, she watches him, unable to tear her eyes away, desperately trying to gauge his reaction. and well. he's very red. but it's hard to tell if that's a good or a bad thing, honestly. it also doesn't help that the first words out of his mouth are I don't. the idea of yeeting herself out the bedroom window sounds incredibly appealing right now-- but she doesn't. almost out of stubborn curiousity to hear what all he'll have to say. that, and she really doesn't want to have to nurse even more bruises.

.....wait, did she hear that correctly? he didn't mind when she choked him either???? god, her head is spinning, just trying to comprehend what this means for the both of them.

somewhere mid conversation, Ryuuko's brows begin to raise slowly.

"m-maybe we should ... have a..."

her mouth opens, as if to help him along, the words sitting on the tip of her tongue- but then he lets his nerves get the better of him. it's... pretty cute, honestly. what a dope. Ryuuko releases a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, the nervous tension in her body gradually unraveling. she shakes her head.]

I don't think 'shit' is gonna work, we both say it too much, already. [no, she doesn't actually think he's suggesting the safe word be 'shit', she just wants to give him some. she smiles, nudging him with her head a little, her thumb rubbing against his where their hands are clasped in an attempt to soothe him. she doesn't mind that he shies away, it's a softer side to him that she thinks she could get used to.]

Then, how about we make a pact? We only go there if the other asks, and never when we're mad. Deal?

[Dude. He can feel her eyes on his face, and that just makes everything all the worse. Add in the fact that they're talking like they're making fucking kink plans? Or plans at all????

BLUSHING INTENSIFIES.

Ichigo swallows hard, daring to at least look at her out of the corner of his eye, his frown turning into that disapproving look he always gives her when she is giving him shit. But something in it softens a little almost immediately at the sight of Ryuuko, of that smile and the body language that says that she's starting to relax again. Both the brush of her thumb helps a little bit too the nudge of her head against his, in easing even an inch of the insane anxiety that has completely taken over the taller teen. He doesn't dare to turn his head yet, as he agrees, a low shy tone.]

...it's... it's a deal, then.

[Get it together, Ichigo, fucking seriously. Kind of hard to, though, when his brain has been scrambled by a multitude of things, the main few being a blow to the face that probably should have knocked him out cold, the discussion of how they should only batter each other in a sexual situation if they agree on it, and the fucking fact that she's still naked right in front of him. Even talking about this stuff has that nagging arousal surfacing, not that he ever fully lost it, and that's just.

Frustrating. Embarrassing. Ridiculous. Every word in the dictionary that involves being flustered and baffled at himself.

Fuck. Enough with the serious case of introspection, already dude. Ichigo finally forces his head back to face her, daring to meet her gaze once more. And with an equal amount of awkwardness as before, he manages to say what's on his mind, voice still incredibly low. Almost hesitant.]

I-I'd kiss you again, but my mouth is... like something outta a horror scene....[Because nothing says sexy like a mouth full of blood.... or maybe it does, fuck. He wouldn't put it past either of them at this point. Not to mention the fucking pain, either, but... that part would be absolutely worth it.]

[compared to how tense things had gotten minutes earlier, it's almost strange to feel so calm all of a sudden. he's like a drug, full of highs and lows and everything in between... and Ryuuko can't get enough. his agreement leaves her with a tingle of excitement, sparking in the pit of her belly, just thinking about it. and she takes a moment to appreciate the fact that... their tastes in these things are so frighteningly similar. honestly, where has he been all her life? it feels like all this time she's only been one half of a whole, and she'd do anything to keep from going back.

pale blue eyes greet him when he finally returns her gaze, like clear water on a hot day. she welcomes him back without words, reaching out to him without hands, pulling him in deeper in with a mere glance. Ryuuko is infamous for being closed off, but the look she gives him now is wide open. she wouldn't dream of turning him away.

she scoffs lightly at his fretting, dismissing it without a second thought.]

If you think m'scared of a little blood, you've got another thing coming, Kurosaki.

[smiling still, she tilts her head, bringing her lips to his. she can't hold back anymore, she wants to kiss him so badly, to tumble even further down this fucked up rabbit hole until she's so far gone there's no way she can get back. everything about Ichigo is enticing as fuck, and she'd sooner drown herself in whatever pain or pleasure he sees fit to give her than live another second without it.]

[If Ryuuko hadn't made the move, the look on her face would have had Ichigo doing it anyway. Because she is generally closed off , and being the person who has managed to even be on the receiving end of this is one of the best feelings he has ever had. It has the desired effect, making him feel like he is being sucked right into her soul, and the thing that makes him nervous is the fact that he wants to be. Ichigo has never wanted anyone like this before, has never allowed himself to. Now that he has, he's finding that he never wants it to end either. Any of it. Their sparring, their moments of cleanup after they seriously fuck each other up in a fight that they've generally taken too far. That their sexual encounters have almost mirrored that perfectly is thrilling, and it just makes him want to have more. Maybe they won't be able to get through anything without beating the ever living shit out of each other, or challenging the other like it's all a big fucking game...

But it's their game, apparently, and Ichigo has no intention of ever losing it. Because this is something he wants to win, and fuck the nervousness. He can deal with that later. Because right now, all he wants is to push through the throb in his jaw and fucking kiss her like he means it. So he does, the hand that holds her wrist releasing the hold it has so he can find the back of her head and press her in against his mouth to deepen it. To try to convey everything he just can't manage to get out without sounding like a goddamn fool. It's not quite a fierce kiss, as that bloody tongue of his invades her mouth, but it's definitely intense. The sharp exhale that comes out of his nose is partially from the emanating ache he has, but also from the fact that even doing this with her has whatever arousal that had managed to leave him during their intense talking coming back in full force. Again, something he feels like he should be embarrassed about, but really... who the fuck has time for that when she tastes so good, a subtle yet effective undertone layered under the heavy flavor of blood in his mouth?]

[Ryuuko's no stranger to the taste of copper on her tongue, only difference is it's not her blood, this time. the bitter liquid doesn't deter her the least bit, eagerly matching his growing enthusiasm. her teeth snap swiftly closed around his tongue like the hairpin trigger of a bear trap, only far more gentle. the pressure she uses to keep him there is light, a taunting lead up as she begins to suck, swallowing down the blood and all the rest. deepening the kiss when she feels that welcome pressure at the base of her skull, cushioned by her frizzy, unkempt locks.

with her full focus getting sucked into the kiss, her grip slackens against the fast melting bag held to his cheek. her fingers have gone numb from the cold, water dripping from her wrist to splatter against his shoulder. no doubt he'll feel it on his face to some degree, the condensation running down the length of his jaw to dribble off his chin. gradually the bag drifts from it's long held position against his cheek to settle beside them on the bed. she's too distracted kissing his face off to really notice where it lands, frankly.

leaning her weight forward, it's almost too easy to guide herself into his lap, nudging one knee over at a time to settle against the mattress on either side of his hips. the soft contours of her body press in against him, chest to chest, and she'd be a fool not to recognize the returning press of his arousal brushing the inside of her thigh. she doesn't address that quite yet, though. far too enamored with the way it feels to be flush against him. her arm hooks over his shoulder, frozen fingers splayed against his shoulder blades before dragging a wet trail up the back of his neck to stimulate his hair at the nape. all the while she never stops kissing him, not for a moment. as far as she's concerned, she needs this kiss more than air, and she doesn't plan on coming up for it any time soon.]

Edited 2020-07-18 05:20 (UTC)

[Not even able to be bothered with hiding it, there's a hum of approval from Ichigo as Ryuuko's teeth latch on to his tongue, light yet promising, like it's the lead up to more. And he doesn't find himself disappointed to find that is true, as she sucks and deepens the kiss. Obviously not deterred by the taste of his blood... which in it's own way is incredibly arousing to him. In another episode of things he'd never imagined about himself in the bedroom, the taste of blood in a kiss is another thing to add to his growing list of shit that gets him hard. Or would, if he wasn't, already. The pain in his face only seems to heighten everything else, like the way the condensation from the bag feels as it drips from the line of his very already visibly bruised jaw. The slide of her thighs on either side of him, the press of her bare breasts against his chest.

What has him shivering is the icy touch to his back as her arm winds around his shoulders, and the contrast of that with how warm the room suddenly feels around them has a low moan vibrating against her mouth as his tongue sweeps against hers. Ichigo's free hand won't be idle, either, as he brings it to find her waist, calloused fingers pressing there in an encouraging squeeze, before simply stroking a line up, and then back down. Her skin is soft as hell and even doing that feels good to Ichigo.

He has no intention of breaking this kiss, and he swears on his soul that he isn't going to let this turn into a repeat of last night, even if having her pressed so very close to his erection makes it tempting to take her right there. Sure, there was plenty of feeling in both of the times they'd had sex before, it was beyond enjoyable, but it was a starved thing. Like falling upon a feast after a long battle. This was different, this was finding your favorite food and savoring each bite because the flavor of it makes stars burst right in your mouth. The thought of just touching her like this forever, slowly and sensually to draw actual reactions that aren't being stifled by a sense of pride and need to win has his hand moving over the curve of her hip to her lower back. There, the same line is traced up, and then down again, fingertips applying pressure in some areas and feather light in others. The fingers at the back of her head thread into that dark, unkempt hair, so that he can press her in to deepen the kiss if possible.

All as he thinks to himself that should this end, for any reason at all, he might find himself feeling even emptier than he had before meeting her challenge and her lips, her everything, the night before.]

[Ryuuko moans into his mouth, the lazy and subdued rumble of a big jungle cat as she's stroked and doted upon. all this touching has stoked that innate, predatory hunger in her that leaves her craving more of the same. unconsciously searching for any sign of weakness and readying herself to pounce.

one thing she knows now for certain, is that she'll probably never tire of the feeling of his calloused hands on her skin, mapping out every dip and curve as though he's trying to commit them all to memory. it warms her in ways she never thought possible by touch alone, reaching beyond more than just the physical threshold of contact. last night hadn't left much room for gradual exploration, it was more just bodies colliding in a panicked frenzy, absorbing whatever they could along the way. now, though, they can take their time- or at least, however long their dwindling patience will allow. her desire for him climbs higher with each passing second, and it's almost torturous denying herself the main course she knows awaits them both between their legs.

every inch of her burns with a distinct longing to touch and be touched, by him, and only him. the thought of him touching someone else like this has the most irrational twinge of jealousy prickling up her spine. prompting those frigid fingers to push up into his hair and wind tight against his scalp in a possessive hold. it's not so harsh as to inflict pain or anything on that large a scale but it's definitely a sharp, tight grip that does it's best to communicate: you're mine. just for that split second before lessening after a moment. mentally talking herself down off that ledge. it helps that Ichigo is so attentive with his own gentle handling, motivating her to do the same. the hand not busy in his hair drifts against his side, counting down the muscles in his abdomen one by one beneath her fingertips. before migrating over to lightly drag the backs of her knuckles up the length of his arm, finishing with a firm investigative squeeze to his bicep. he's beyond physically fit, which isn't news to her at all given how often they tussle with one another outside of the bedroom. but while she'd deny it if he asked, there have been plenty of times she found herself daydreaming about this impeccably toned body of his slamming hers into the nearest solid surface. and consequently thinking about how much of a shame it was there was never a mattress nearby... until now.

all in due time, she knows they'll make it there eventually, but for now she's content to sway with him like this, leaning the full weight of her bruised and battered body against him. drinking in his kiss, his touch, his everything in full parallel.]

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I'm sorry for him jfc

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sex and candy by marcy playground came on as I was hitting this

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