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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[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.]

[If Ichigo had any idea at all about what went through her mind on the possessive, jealous front, not only would he be incredibly flattered, but he would have to laugh a little bit. Because there is no one else, and there won't be. Other than the one pretty drunk night of celebrating the world not coming to an end and losing his virginity, Ichigo doesn't. Do. This. He doesn't seek out intimacy like this... it took being really far out of his mind to even be comfortable with doing it the first time. That he feels comfortable enough with Ryuuko, sober, to get past his insane embarrassment about anything even remotely sexual says a hell of a lot about her. And the effect that she has on him. The fact that he engaged in those texts with her at all, or the fact that he was the one who said to name the time and the place... yeah.

Ichigo Kurosaki is all about Ryuuko Matoi, the most terrifying and enticing prospect he's ever faced... and he's faced some scary shit.

Either way, the tension in his hair is so welcome, and also threatens to break his resolve a little bit on the not just fucking her brains out front, all over again. The signs will be clear to her, with how his own hand tightens and pulls her hair tighter too, and the way Ichigo uses his hand on her back to push her body in to his even more firmly. Another soft moan against her mouth, at the shift of skin on skin that that nudge causes, and his nails scratch a light trail down the length of her spine. Not enough to leave any marks, but enough for her to feel it. Fuck, even the feeling of her hand on his bicep is fighting against his willpower, and inwardly he decides that... maybe going a little further wouldn't completely ruin his efforts. There's a flash of a memory in his mind, fresh as hell and vivid, of the sound Ryuuko made when he'd put his hand on her ass, the fucking frenzy it had sent her into. Was it just because of the build up, or is it a type of attention that she genuinely is aroused by?

Time to find out. Those nails scratch down even lower, before his palm flattens against her lower back and slides to the side a little. Lower, lower, until it's sliding over the curve of one cheek. No groping, no squeezes, just the same sensual stroking he's been going with. At the same time, despite how moving his jaw screams at him for daring to force it to do anything, Ichigo is catching her tongue in his teeth, a gentle bite to just add more sensation to his attempts to try to make her lose herself to him.]

[so this is what it feels like, to be wanted.

it's a little scary, how fucking good it feels when he tightens his grip and drags her in even closer, as if he's trying to consume every part of her all at once. she doesn't fight it, not for a moment, savoring the way he tastes, bloody but sweet. his nails scrape down the path of her spine with just enough pressure to drive her mad, and she shivers with anticipation for more. more of this, of him, swallowing her up until she can't decipher where her own body ends and Ichigo's begins. all rational thought has completely left the building, and all she can focus on are his hands, his tongue, his teeth, his cock pressing against her leg.

her body moves against his instinctually, arching her back as his hand rounds the curve of one ass cheek. her brows raise up a little once she realizes he's intent on keeping his attention there, and she can feel the heat rushing to the surface of her skin almost immediately. with her tongue caught between his teeth it's a little hard to comment apart from the small enamored sounds that muffle into his mouth. pressing her hips back a little she urges him to keep going, flushing that much darker when she stops to think how much she's enjoying this in particular. it reminds her of last night, and how effective it'd been when he'd grabbed her and squeezed. just thinking of it is enough to make her overheat.]

A-Are you gonna take my panties off, finally, or do you have s-some sort of fetish I should know about??

[The kiss is finally broken, much to Ichigo's disappointment, but it also allows him to suck in a much needed breath because the amount he was getting through his nose apparently wasn't enough. If his flush was starting to recede finally just from concentration alone, the question leveled his way is reigniting the damn thing. But at least, he isn't half as flustered as he was a few minutes before, when he was trying to tell her that they might actually need a safe word. The frown he gives her looks ridiculous paired with that rising heat, almost like a pout, as he responds. Sounding breathless as hell, once again. What can he say, Ryuuko just has that effect on him, the uncanny ability to steal the air right from his chest apparently, whether it be with a simple look, her words, or something she is physically doing to him.]

You're really great at ruining good moments with stupid comments, y'know that?

[But she'll get her fucking answer. The hand on her ass tightens it's grip, giving her the squeeze she seems to have been asking for with the way she pressed back, while the one entangled in her hair is finally releasing the hold there to move to her shoulder. He uses his weight to push her back, guiding her to lay on the mattress underneath them. It leaves him on his knees, half bent over her, those eyes watching her like a hawk. Almost contemplative, and Ichigo straightens out a little more, both hands moving again. Fingertips trace across her collar bone to the bite mark he'd left the night before, a quick brush over the bruise before the path starts down. His aim is center, that faintly rough touch running a line down the center of her chest, down in between her breasts and then over her abdomen. The movement doesn't stop until those fingers are hitting the edge of her panties, and that's when his other hand comes up to meet the other. Hooking his thumbs in, Ichigo tugs down to try to work them off of her, while speaking with a low-pitched heat. He's trying not to raise the stakes by issuing an outright challenge here, but he almost can't help it. It's just in his nature... the nature of them. Rising to the challenge is the basis for everything they stand for together, and while he doesn't want this to turn into another round of just smashing into each other, it doesn't feel right to hold it back, either.]

You got anything else clever you wanna add? Cause you're not gonna be saying much else once we get started. I've got some payback to dish out, and a tie-breaker win to add to my list... [It's not quite shameless, it definitely lights his cheeks up even more, the way his eyes seem to drag that heated look down the length of her body. Taking in every fucking inch of her and trying to memorize it. If this were the last time they ever did this--and actually doubts that and hopes that doubting it is on the money--he wants to remember. Because Ryuuko is fucking gorgeous, and there really isn't any point in trying to deny that to himself anymore.

What he says next, confidently and even, is hard to get out, partially because he really honestly isn't sure if he's talking out of his ass again, but also because he's Ichigo, and being so direct in saying something so sexual is a battle in and of itself.]

You're definitely going to come first, this time.

Look who's talking...

[it was a necessary stupid comment, okay?? she needed a second to breathe, to collect her wits, even just to remain fucking sane. because Ichigo feels so fucking good she could've gone on like that forever, kissing and touching endlessly until she drowned herself in it completely. the idea that she'd willingly and eagerly surrender all control over to him is as terrifying as it is thrilling, and he makes it seem so easy to do. her life is generally full of obstacles and complications, to the point where it always seems like she's been dealt a pretty shitty hand- always pulling the short end of the stick. but somehow, miraculously, she got lucky in this. she got lucky with him. she knows that, and it's almost too good to be true. she almost doesn't want to trust it, because the moment she lets down her guard is usually the exact moment she gets crushed.

maybe she's stupid, for wanting to believe in him, in whatever the hell this feeling deep inside represents. all she knows is she doesn't want it to disappear. she wants to soak in it for as long as she can, even if that means she never makes it out alive.

she doesn't really even mind being forced to abdicate her throne in favor of lying on her back underneath him, releasing her hold on him to rest her hands beside her head, taking the back seat for the moment. she might've had the sense to mind it more if it weren't for the view. the way he practically dwarfs her beneath his bulk, looming over her before sinking back, like a beast on the prowl. she never thought feeling small was something she'd appreciate quite like this, that the simple act of having him lean over her could be so goddamn arousing.

her eyes follow him with rapt attention, evenly split between his hand as it begins its slow descent over her body, and his face as he drinks in the sight of her. she lets him take his time, her chest rising and falling subtly with her breaths as his fingers draw a line between her breasts and down her stomach. her muscles tense beneath his touch, heat twisting her stomach into knots as he starts to tug her panties down her thighs. she lifts her legs to help him, drawing them back one at a time to slooooowly slide out of that thin material, before extending them forward again. ensuring nothing if not an enticing visual display for Ichigo as the heat of his stare threatens to burn holes through her now fully naked body laid out in front of him. her breath quickens at the realization they're both just. naked. and each staring at the other like they're a four course meal and neither of them have eaten in days.

not even his bullshit tough guy talk is enough to snap her out of the lustful daze she's sunk back into, eyes dark and hungry as she propositions him by spreading her legs in a v. lifting them back to bend at the knees, exposing her glistening cunt front and center and beckoning him to seal the deal. if that's not enough, she slides her own hand down to spread herself open for him, pulling back her dripping wet folds with her fingers. almost daring him to try and resist, her voice deceptively sweet and laced heavy with desire.]

We'll see about that. ♥

[The intensity of this moment feels like it honestly might kill Ichigo, like his heart just won't be able to take the speed at which it pounds inside of him and will just stop any second now. But somehow, that doesn't stop him from staring at her, unaware of the look of insatiable lust he has written all over his face. Her legs slide slowly to help him get rid of the under garments, and he can't help letting his fingertips touch as they move together. Warm, and soft, and so enticing that he almost can't stand it. A glance to the side as the panties get tossed to the floor haphazardly, and Ichigo has honestly has to steel himself before returning that gaze to her.

A huff is let out of his nose, and it aches as he purses his lips together. It's not like a whole bunch of clothing was taken off, but somehow even just that is like looking at a whole new fucking picture... and he's once again landing on that word again. Gorgeous. Does she even know it? Surely someone has told her how fucking beautiful she is, and that stands for when she is fully clothed, too.

Ichigo is about to open his mouth, (slowly, because he can feel the way the muscles in his cheek are starting to swell) to try to tell her, and then her hand moves. A hard swallow, as Ryuuko draws her knees up like that, and his eyes follow the path of her hand, widening with each inch of skin that she touches. Lower, and lower, his face burns hotter and hotter, until--

Jesus fucking christ.

It's a downward spiral from there. Ichigo's jaw drops open abruptly as she obscenely spreads wet lips apart to expose herself to him, and that results in a sharp hiss, as one of his hands comes up to hold the now screaming side of his face, the throb now at a level of almost unbearable. Somehow, by sheer willpower, he manages to not look away, and he can seriously feel his cock twitch with the rush of need it gives him to see that much of her.]

That.... t-that's a really low blow... [Ichigo sounds awestruck on top of pained, and he fucking is. Fuck. Shit. She just took his composure, put it in a jar and shook it violently until all of the pieces were shattered. How the fuck he is supposed to even top that?! The hand clutching at his cheek drops, and his brows pull down and center into a hard frown of concentration as he forces himself to act. They're right back to the grind of the fight, his determination to not lose outweighing the fact that what she just did might really make him die of a heart attack.

Ichigo is leaning forward again, hand planting itself beside her head like he had done earlier when he'd had his hand around her throat. Hovering over her in an all too tempting fashion, his other hand comes up to meet the one she has in between her legs, his fingers glancing over her's before dipping in to tease two at that slick opening. Brushing against her, only applying enough pressure to threaten to push into her.]

You're ...just making a really long list of things I need to get revenge for, at this rate... [Fuck, even just teasing her slick pussy with his fingers is making drawing breath uneven and difficult, and Ichigo is almost panting with the effort it takes to follow his fucking plan here.] I never did get you to ah... ask nicely, last night... d-did I?

Edited (belated obligatory megan shouldn't tag right after a nap apology) 2020-07-23 02:32 (UTC)

[heh. got em.

once he's in range, with his torso bent over her and his attention diverted to the carefully orchestrated trap she'd set for him, her free arm loops around the back of his neck, yanking him down flush against her and angling his head so as to avoid impact with her shoulder on the busted half of his face, since that's likely to prove a lot less pleasant than what she has in mind. she nudges her way over to his ear, kissing and licking in much the same fashion as she had the night before. at the same time, her hips rock toward him, eager to increase the light pressure of his fingers.]

How big is it? [her breath steams hot against his ear, a low whine in her voice that borderlines desperation, before the obvious smirk is revealed in her coy tone.] The list.

[while unaware of his thoughts pertaining to her beauty, she is acutely attuned to the physical attraction between them, and she knows just how to shift her body so that her breasts roll against him and her thighs brush up over his hips soft as silk. it feels so fucking amazing to be skin on skin, sliding against him with nothing else in-between to distract from the heavenly sensation. she could roll around with him in this bed all day and never tire of this feeling.

with her legs bent on either side of him she hooks them around his lower half, heels digging into the backs of his thighs and urging him closer in an attempt to force him in. her body is so hot a part of her worries she'll over heat if she doesn't satiate the monstrous appetite of her burgeoning lust for him. her legs squeeze around him, strengthening their pull as she nuzzles the side of his head, pushing her body up against him as enticingly as she can. ]

Hey, if I say "please fuck me into next Tuesday", does that count?

[god, she can hardly endure the suspense, his fingers just aren't enough. she wants his thick, hard cock- and she wants it now.]

[God dammit. Ichigo should have known it was a fucking trap, and the hard draw of breath at the feeling of her mouth on his ear again is involuntary. This slow crawl of pleasure is making everything feel heightened. The way that her hips roll against his hand has his fingers pushing in just a little bit more, the sensation causing him to bite into his lower lip hard even though the motion of even that has the pain flaring up all over again.

"How big is it?" Ryuuko's breath hot against his ear, the fucking tone she has as she goes on with her both of her stupid sarcastic questions, he can't even describe the way all of that shoots straight through him like a bullet. The fact that those legs wrap around him like that and pull him in almost makes him feel lightheaded with pure need. That sensation makes it easy to blurt out his retort without a second thought, as he tips his head in to speak near her ear, voice hot and heavy.] It's huge, you asshole. [As he goes on, Ichigo's fingers withdraw from their mission to drive her insane, because really, it's only serving to drive him up the wall instead, and he moves his hand to grip the base of his aching cock so he can line their all too ready bodies up.]

I'm only gonna accept that 'cause you're fucking hot and I can't stand it.

[Anymore. He meant to say anymore at the end of that, but Ichigo's hips jutting forward so that he can slowly press in to that tight, mind blowing heat cuts off his thought process completely. By the time Ichigo's cock has stretched and filled her to the brim, he is panting against her neck already. Unlike the night before, he doesn't actually pause there this time, no, he has to move. He might not be willing to let this go to the fever pitch fucking they've already indulged in--he's still determined to make sure they have time to savor every fucking second, but there isn't anything hesitant in the way he draws almost all of the way out before rolling forward once again. Long, measured, deep strokes that already have him moaning low, as raises his head and turns it just enough to find her mouth with his.]

Edited (I couldn't leave the bad wording in this one sorry bro ) 2020-07-25 05:04 (UTC)

Call me, call me any, anytime!

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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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I forgot a word and am so glad I came back and caught it.

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