Behind Closed Doors
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Kubo Tite does. I like to make his characters do dirty things.
Summary: They were Soul Society’s most famous couple. Kurosaki Ichigo and Kurosaki Rukia. In public, they were unromantic, but behind closed doors, it was a different story. An extension of Piece by Piece. [ICHIRUKI] Rated M for mature audiences.
Author’s Note: So I wanted to write a fluffy smutty fic with my favourite pair, but it’s impossible to do so with their current character states on Bleach (or else there would be some MAJOR OOC-ness). The only way I could do this was by using the setting from Piece by Piece, which is a long one-shot, but I suggest you read it since this is an extension of it.
And yes I am aware how long it took me to post this out. I apologize. I have been major busy with two jobs and I do have a social life. And I really try to ‘perfect’ this as much as I could. Do the best that I can. So please enjoy and leave a review! Thanks!
WARNING! LEMON! SMUT! Not intended for immature audiences!
Special thanks to ShaggyDiz for proofreading. Extra special thanks to Nicole for ripping this thing apart.
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Behind Closed Doors
An IchiRuki one-shot by Goku’s Daughter
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Love at first sight is easy to understand.
Love for a decade is doable.
Love that lasts for a lifetime is a miracle.
Love transcending eternity… what do you call that? An impossibility?
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They were Soul Society’s most famous couple: Kurosaki Ichigo and Kurosaki Rukia. In the public eye, they were fairly unromantic. They did not hold hands or kiss. They did not call each other by endearing names. They did not celebrate anniversaries like normal couples, with three-diamond pendants and lavish candlelight dinners.
But behind closed doors, it was a different story.
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Her eyes fluttered open. Indigo orbs squinted in the darkness. The white flecks in her irises shone with delight once she identified the body that slid beside her.
Hazel met indigo. Her mouth curved upwards in a gentle tired smile. The backs of her fingers skimmed an eyelid when she twisted her head upward to face him. “You’re back?” she said.
He nodded, his hand snaking under the t-shirt she wore. “Mmm,”
His eyelids lowered so she could barely see his irises, but she knew that there was a passion inside of them, like it just began to burn.
“So, it went well then?” She yawned, trying to ignore the fingers playing at her coral tips.
Her husband nodded again. “Yeah,” he paused as a muffled yawn left his mouth, “I had to save Renji’s ass again, but it was alright.” Ichigo grabbed her small hand and placed it on his hard chest. “I didn’t get hurt this time.” He let her examine his bare upper body, not only to prove that he hadn’t been injured, but to entice her to initiate vigorous and resilient activities.
Sex.
Her smile broadened at that, and their lips met in a soft kiss. It was not the savage kiss in which the participants appear to be eating one another, but a deliberate, slow kiss meant to savour the taste of mouths, tongues and lips.
“Were you drinking?” Rukia asked, pulling away. Her eyes narrowed at him, accusingly.
His legs were already tangled with hers and the bed sheet that almost completely covered her earlier had fallen to her waist. With a gentle tug, he pulled her into his embrace so her breasts pressed against him, and he rested his head on hers. His mouth had tasted slightly bitter, alcohol-tinged. His natural scent was mixed with his sweat and other things that she could not pinpoint specifically, but it reminded her of gatherings and sake. “Yeah, I had a few before I came back here.”
She merely nodded at that, but she was glad he knew his limit. A laugh escaped her throat then as her fingers trailed from the crevices beneath his shoulder bones down the curve of his spine. “Good. If you were drunk you would be spewing Shakespeare quotes till morning.” There was a slight pause when she held his face in her hands. “If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die." She spoke the words from Twelfth Night with conviction enough to conjure the bard’s determined suitor, Duke Orsino. Rukia was an accomplished actress after all.
His head dipped low to her lips again. “I see your acting abilities continue to suck in the one month that I was gone.” He expected a slap in the head but she just laughed at him.
“I was imitating you,” she said teasingly, her eyes glowing with amusement.
His head jerked back, as if to evade a blow, but he grinned at her. It was the playful kind of smile that might lead her to lewd acts under a waterfall. “Oh, were you?” By now, his fingers had arrived at the edges of her panties.
“You’re the one who loves Shakespeare; I learned the lines from you.” But Ichigo was not paying attention. He seemed too absorbed in trying to remove the last of her clothing, as her hand slapped his hand away.
Ichigo questioned her resistance. “What?” His body wriggled before moving, so he covered her, leaning on all fours. “Look, I’m already naked for you. And you’re in my t-shirt.”
Her small hand traced a heated line down the hard planes of his chest. She fought not to smile. “Well, I didn’t tell you to come into my bed naked. Besides, why can’t I wear your t-shirt? You were gone a long time and I missed you.” With her free hand, she pulled his lime green shirt to her nose and took a very deep breath in. “And it even smells like you: strawberries!” Normally when Ichigo was here, the famous couple slept naked together. Although Rukia did not seem to be a sentimental woman, the truth was that she loyally slept in her husband’s t-shirts whenever he was gone.
He growled at that, and then plunged down to capture her mouth in his. It was a rough, ragged kiss, unlike the last one, but the union was meant to leave her breathless.
Despite this, Rukia slapped his hand again when his fingers played at her panties. “Show me how much you…miss me,” she demanded. The tone in her voice conveyed to him that she was becoming playful and teasing. But he will play her game.
“I’m trying to show you now,” he countered, pushing the thin sheet away from both of their bodies. “Why do you think I’m here instead of Rangiku’s bed?” A similar teasing tone was in his voice was well.
That question earned a playful slap on his chest. “How many of you were out drinking tonight anyways?”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Me, Renji, Rangiku, Ikkaku…” He looked confused then but the fog washed away and left a grin on his face. “Don’t worry, I will never cheat on you. If I did, I know you would hunt me down and castrate me.” He shuddered with another thought. “And then when you’re done, your loving brother will slaughter me, and make me eat my own balls.”
She pulled herself nearer, closer to him, kissing him again. “I think you love me too much to cheat on me.”
His eyebrow rose amusingly. “Oh? How do you figure?” He fought hard not to laugh, but a soft chuckle diffused in the air.
“You’re in my bed, naked, aren’t you?”
He lowered his lean body on her so she could not move. She was pinned, but of her own free will. All she could manage was to budge her head and arms; her legs could hardly wriggle. He said, “I guess you’re right. So how about you take off the shirt now and let me have my way with you.” Her mouth was curved up in a pretty smile, testing him and giving herself to him clearly.
But she evaded his mouth and instead he caught her ear. Ichigo nibbled gently, causing a haze of pleasure in her brain so it could not sharply function as it normally did. It was like the beginning of intoxication, as if her husband - or rather what her husband was doing - was an aphrodisiac. “I have three conditions for you. One…you take it off yourself but with your mouth. Second, you must…endow me with sweet words. Tell me how much you miss your dear wife.”
It sounded like a challenge and the way she smiled, with teeth flashing, told him that she was serious.
Without a word, he sat and helped her up. “T-shirts are hard to take off with your teeth.”
Rukia shrugged at his complaint, merely raising her arms towards the heavens to help him a little. “You did it before,” and then quickly added, “several times.” She eyed him when he bent his head forward, grasping the lime-coloured material between his lips. “No hands,” the petite shinigami reminded him.
He planted two hands beside her hips and his knees beside her thighs. Since his shirt was too big on her, it would have been simple to pull it over her head, but he was deliberately slow in undressing her. By the time he reached to her neck, he had to sit up and then slowly stand to completely peel the precious, worn cotton from her body. “That was only two demands,” Ichigo pointed out after spitting out the shirt. He watched his garment fall to the ground beside them with a gentle plop.
Her slender shoulder rose and then fell. “Whatever, unless you want to remove my underwear with your mouth too.”
He gave her a look that said “You must be kidding me,” because it was difficult to do as he had done it before. “As tempting as that sounds Mrs. Kurosaki,” he plopped down beside her and his tongue skimmed the surface of her cheek, “I would rather be doing other things to you.”
Rukia fell backwards when he pressed his lips to hers firmly, pushing her against the mattress. Their tongues met, played and flicked, taking turns encircling their partner’s mouth and explore. “Ichi…go…” she managed to mutter in between when they parted for breath. She wanted to remind him of the other condition, but could not when he kissed her so deeply.
“I know,” he started, kissing an eyelid. His lips made soft butterfly imprints across her jaw line. “Let’s start with I love you.” His eyes met hers in the brief moment he said those words, before he cast their eager gaze upon her bare, flawless neck. His teeth grazed her perfect skin and when he sucked eagerly, she gasped. Rukia knew once he was done there would be several telltale marks on her exposed flesh.
Her fingers raked his hair, and remained there, tangled. His hair was still soft and she enjoyed playing with it, especially when she could control him. At some point long ago when she was still a Kuchiki, Rukia learned that stroking his scalp relaxed him, encouraged him, and in most intimate moments, excited him.
“Okay,” she uttered, trembling once. Her feet linked together behind his back as his mouth sucked on the tender flesh of her breasts. The next sentence she spoke came out in parts because she lost her breath several times when he tugged on her rosy nipples with his teeth, sucking hard on the tender mounds and running his wet tongue down the valley in between her breasts. “How much do you love me?”
His orange hair veiled his eyes when he stopped. Without a word, and without her resistance, his fingers pulled her panties down to her thighs. His hand slid against the moist bud between her legs in a sweet moment of anticipation before he completed the task of completely removing her clothes.
Ichigo grabbed her arms next and manoeuvred her body so that she could sit on his thighs while his bottom rested on the mattress. Her arms coiled around his neck and she scooted closer so the opening pressed against him. There was a heat that built between their bodies when she pushed down on him, melding hardness and soft flesh. Rukia looked down at Ichigo and waited for an answer.
Since the moon was not full, only a golden lantern illuminated them in a soft glow. His pupils grew larger in the dim light, but the dark flecks in his orbs seemed to contrast appealingly to his hazel irises. Tonight they appeared to shine and sparkle of mischief, sex and desire. She shivered suddenly from his stare and then rested her chin on his head when his nose nuzzled her neck.
His breath tickled her throat but she did not laugh. “I love you so much,” he said as he kissed her shoulder, “that no words can do my feelings justice.”
“Ah.” Her back arched slightly, pressing her chest to his. “You can try.” The light radiated her body, highlighting her soft features but hiding minute details. His mouth, lips and tongue explored what the eye could not see.
He kissed her chin. “I love you enough to kill for you.” He kissed the center of her throat. “I love you enough to die for you.” He kissed the corner of her lip. “I love you enough to spend the rest of eternity with you.”
Soul met soul on lover’s lips in the most eloquent silence. With equal pressure they melded, her aroused nipples pressing against his chest, damp with perspiration, his organ throbbing insistently, tensed against her thigh, their kiss becoming more impassioned, fervent, needy with every passing minute.
They pulled away when his hands squeezed her buttocks and when her fingers dug into the flesh of his back. Ichigo looked up into her eyes and frowned when he found they were glossy, teary, as if she was about to cry.
This called for a moment of respite.
Gently he laid her on the bed, over her on all fours. His eyes sought her gaze and they smiled at her. He kissed her again and into her mouth he teased, “Mrs. Kurosaki, are you going to cry?” She shook her head, as if it were the first time she ever heard those lines because it was not. There was something unique about this man, whose embrace made her heart light enough to soar out of her chest. There was something unique about this man, whose words were so simple and sincere he could set her heart alight with them. There was something extraordinary about this man, period. He had lent her his strength when her own had been exhausted, the courage to fight any battle, and to carry those he loved through any struggle. He was strength. He was power. He was love.
Suddenly, she said those words, the ones he has said to her earlier. “I love you.” Her voice was soft, gentle, but it cracked. It was unnecessary to say those words but sometimes it was nice to.
His first response was to carefully look at her, examine her expression to determine the cause of her sudden upset, her sudden change in tone. Then his eyes narrowed, fingers cradling her chin. “Did something happen while I was gone?”
Rukia shook her head, frowning. “No.” Her fingers made small circles on his back and she exhaled her breath slowly. “Nothing happened. Now show me you love me.” Their eyes met, challenging one another. Her arms fell behind her when she slid away from him, parting her legs in a full surrender.
His fingers fluttered over the pink folds, teasing her most sensitive areas gently. He did not proceed, however, and she frowned bitterly, moving closer to take hold on his swollen member in her hands. She discovered he was silky and hard and her frown turned into a smile when her hand pumped until he shuddered. He breathed her name, urging her to continue, but she stopped after she played with the tip of his member, eliciting another shudder.
His eyes asked, “Why did you stop?”
A sudden erotic image entered her mind and she grinned at him. Her eyes just answered, “Because.”
Her small tongue ran over the planes of his chest, kissing him for a short moment before showing her what she wanted. She turned, planting her hands on the bed and parted her legs. Rukia felt her heart beat against her ribs, ordering him to take her. Love her. “Have your way with me, Ichigo.”
Her body trembled as his hands skimmed over her bottom, before snaking around to touch her swollen bud. Without turning, she could feel her husband kneel behind her, his thighs pressing against the back of her legs. Her fingers gripped into the white sheets under her as the pulsing tip of his member touched her pink opening, hesitating. His hard rod lingered impatiently, waiting for the signal to enter perhaps, or just taking the moment in.
With a soft kiss on her shoulder, she angled her torso downward, supporting her weight on her hands and forearms. She could hear his ragged, rapid, breathing, his warm exhalation tickling her earlobe. Shivers radiated down her spine when he whispered, “I do love you, Rukia,” and then their bodies united.
A sound like a gasp escaped her mouth when he pushed hard into her. Not all of him was inside of her, she knew. She was tight, wet and the fingers playing at her rosy bud made her close her eyes.
Ichigo pulled back a bit, enough so his tip and a bit more was still within her walls. His gaze fell over her round ass, which most people would be surprise there was flesh there, and then up her small back where her spine poked through. She was a delicate thing, but she was one of the toughest people he knew.
He thrust in again, deeper, so his balls smacked against her, so he was fully inside of her.
Husband and wife rocked together slowly at first, Rukia’s knuckles white as she gripped the soft sheets under her, thrown off balance by the euphoria of pleasure. They both could feel his self control slip with each thrust as his strokes became rigorous, forceful, taking her closer and closer to her peak, using the leverage of his position to reach her most sensitive area.
How many times they were together like this, it was numerous….countless. She knew what turned him on. He knew what made her come. Every time together they tried something different, whether that meant Rukia twisted her hips, or if Ichigo thrusted more forceful.
And then he was beginning to lose control.
Heavy breathing, racing heartbeats, the raging fire… it was like entering a flame of ecstasy that would not die.
She said his name every time she could hear hers from his lips, repeating it over and over in concert.
“Ichigo…”
“…Rukia.”
She knew in his eyes there was a glazed look of possession. It was in the late hours of their love making when Ichigo took his woman, Rukia, to pleasurable heights. But all of her thoughts vanished and it became impossible to say anything else besides her husband’s name. Her breath came faster and faster and the sweat condensed in trembling beads on her skin. She said his name again.
“Ichigo.”
How many times have his name left her lips, she did not know. How long was that name buried in her heart, she could not remember.
What she did know was that she wanted him to go faster, deeper, harder.
But she could only say his name.
“Ichigo!!”
Sometimes they did not need words to know what the other was thinking. He thrusted into her, faster, deeper, harder. She wanted him to have his way with her.
His back straightened a bit more and his hands clutched on her strong thighs. Every thrust he made, he pushed like he wanted to break her. Every thrust he made, he was quicker to show her that he was in control. Every thrust he made, he was in harder like he wanted to remind her that he was raw, powerful, and wild. Animalistic. His lean muscles tensed as the pressure mounted; his sweaty hair almost hiding his eyes - eyes that were full of need - in a dangerous, dark shadow.
Then he reached that peak.
And together, they came to the pinnacle.
He let out a roar, her name, and she called for him, her husband.
It took a long moment for the famous couple to recover, to regain sight after the heavy haze of pleasure consumed their minds and visions.
It took some effort to pull himself out from her, but when he did he fell down beside his wife, her body reclining against him. His right arm fell over her waist as they caught their breath and let the euphoria wash over them. Ichigo kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, smiling.
“I love you because you’ve made me into a better man.”
She wanted to turn to face him; she wanted to see his expression. But she did not move, too restful and happy where she was. Instead Rukia responded, “I love you for the man you are. I didn’t do anything to change your character.” A hand rested under her head and she did not fully close her eyes knowing the nature of the remark that would come out of Ichigo’s mouth.
“You whip me into shape, so you can’t say you haven’t done anything.” An eyelid lifted so he could determine whether she was really asleep. Judging the way she was breathing, he knew she was awake. “So now you should tell me why you love me so much.” He said this, implying that she owed him flattering words.
Her arm fell over his, pulling it higher into a tighter hug. “I don’t know why I love you so much.” She smiled. “Maybe it was because you had a piece of my soul since…” She wanted to say since he took her powers from her, but found kinder words to express it: “Since the day we’ve met.” And he literally had a piece of her soul when he became a shinigami. But it was more than that. “And no fluffy bunnies or a sketchpad could ever capture my soul like you do.” She was aware of his gentle laughter and the feel of his chest reverberating at that. Then he noticed her softer breathing as she began to drift off peacefully.
Her words also made Ichigo hold his wife close. Sleep called the both of them and with bodies entwined, they drifted to slumber. Together.
Behind closed doors.
End.
Author’s Note: Yeah, the sappiness was kind of hard to write, but after making them do it doggy-style, it was okay. Haha.
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Kiss kiss //