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They’ve always been equals; it’s one of the main phenomena she treasures in whatever unnamable thing they have going on between them. Even more amazing is how it spills over into all aspects of their relationship. In daily life, in battle, in bed.
(She can’t get enough.)
Rukia understood why Ichigo was skeptical, but he was still willing to give it a shot. Even as the instigator—Rukia was the interested party from the start—switching bodies to fuck was far better than she’d dreamed. But Ichigo, he didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. He was always expressive in bed, like the energy he spent to maintain that tough, stern façade wasn’t a priority around her. When they are together, all the emotion she knows he hides come pouring out in waves that drag him under the tide. The first time, though, her inside his body? He started so tentative only to turn into a live wire under her. Ichigo sounded overwhelmed, by sensation, by shock, she didn’t know. She came hard, but in the aftermath it was Ichigo, still wearing her body, who looked like his world had been blown apart; he stared sightlessly at the ceiling, struggling to bring his breathing back to a normal pace.
They’d only done it twice more. As much as she enjoyed it, Rukia doesn’t like to push him when he still acts so nervous, barely looking her in the eye when she suggests a change of pace. Besides, she has more than enough fun with him in her own body. There’s no need to press.
So when they kiss softly, chastely, one evening and he asks her if they can switch, it takes her by storm. Rukia nods and reaches for the combat pass before she can even process her own reply. By the time they’re switched and she feels the powerful surge of being in his body, she’s already turned on. And when Ichigo crawls in her lap, looks up at her through violet eyes and whispers just what he wants from her, all the air leaves her lungs as her heart pumps harder. He can’t maintain eye contact for long, face red and a slight shake to his hands. Sometimes she forgets how young he is, that he’s still learning how all of this feels, how to express it and direct her in the same way she is so comfortable directing him. He’s nervous but this is, always has been, trust. And he trusts her so, so deeply. The thought simultaneously makes both her heart and her cock swell.
(She can’t get enough.)
Rukia still has to tell him to breathe, relax, loosen up when she presses inside him. It doesn’t matter that they’ve done this a handful of times (on top of the experience she knows he has from the other side), he can’t shake his nerves.
She brushes her thumb over his temple. “You’ve got to calm down,” she says in a voice that is not her own. Rukia holds still and tries not to flinch as Ichigo clamps down hard on her. Her voice comes out a little more choked this time. “You know I’ve got you, right?” He nods. “Tell me what you need. Do you want me to stop?” When he doesn’t answer after a few seconds, Rukia starts to pull out until she suddenly can’t. Ichigo has his hands squeezing tight against her hips, still holding part of her inside. He’s holding his breath with eyes are shut tight, not to mention the tension in every line of his body. That’s no way to relax, and Rukia starts to tell him as much.
“Ichigo, are you—” Cut off by a groan, Rukia watches Ichigo shove himself further down on her dick. She gasps. He feels so wet and soft; she never gets used to it. She wonders, not for the first time, if this is how it is for him when their roles are reversed.
“Are you okay?” Rukia tries again, but Ichigo doesn’t respond. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“Stretched,” he replies.
“And?”
“I know that this’ll work, it always does. And it’s you so it’s—” Ichigo pushes down another inch. He’s still tense, so tense that he’s shaking. Even as he takes her in, he clenches down around her enough it hurts. Rukia can imagine how it must feel for him, or maybe not so much imagine as remember. She’s ready to convince him to stop, he continues before she can speak.
“But my mind’s always in the way. I feel like I can’t do it. And feeling this body stretch anyways, no matter what I think, it scares me.” Then stop, Rukia almost says before Ichigo jerks down another inch with a quiet cry. This time he whispers, “It also makes me really,” he pauses with a purse of his lips, “really wet.” Rukia moans before she can help it. She knows. Can feel the hot, slick slide of him wrapped around her. It’s worryingly distracting when he’s being so vulnerable. She wants to be gentle, slow, and listen, but she’s already losing her mind when Ichigo pushes down again and Rukia feels her dick bump against something inside him. He gasps, eyes still shut. Her hips thrust without her volition, and that’s it, she’s inside all the way, their hips pressed together as Ichigo leans over her body to catch his breath.
Then he moves.
It’s the sweet pull of Ichigo around her that makes Rukia’s hips stutter forward even though she wants to hold still. She likes watching him work himself over on her. Watching him make pleasure roil up within himself, just the way he likes. Watching him use her to get what he wants. Watching him work himself up, face contorted around a moan, while she stays cool, calm, collected. In control.
That’s it. That thought alone makes her hands clench at the sheets, stoking the fire whirling inside her borrowed body. And she wants it so bad, wants to pull his strings until he melts around her and cums hard. She thinks he might want that too, if his request to switch tonight was any indication. She feels a predatory smile spill onto her lips and gives a hard, deep thrust that makes Ichigo’s shake around her. He looks at her with dark eyes through dark bangs, like he knows he’s her prey. Like he wants to be her prey.
(She can’t get enough.)
Even though it’s Ichigo on top of her, straddled across her hips, they both know that he defers to Rukia. Her movements. Her words. Her orders. For all that they are equals, there is nothing Ichigo seems to enjoy more than Rukia taking charge. All he gives her are red-faced denials when she has confronted him about it, but she speculates it might be something about letting go. He spends so much of his life on high alert, has felt the weight of multiple worlds on his shoulders since he was a teenager, it makes sense he might enjoy her taking responsibility for a moment. To let him take a back seat and just feel. It’s trust. She knows. She knows. So when she tells—no, orders—Ichigo to stop moving, he complies with a whine.
She draws her fingers against him, working them along his belly and feeling the stiffness he holds within. He has stilled, but Rukia revels in feeling what he can’t control. His pulse, the throb of arousal that runs through his pussy all soft and wet and swollen. When her hand wanders down to his clit, still becomes even more relative with the way he twitches and clenches around her. Even more so when she trails down to his entrance and gently pushes one finger in part way.
“What?” he jolts at her touch. She removes her finger.
“I think you can give a little more,” Rukia continues, nonchalant. She pulls her hand away to run over his hip instead. “You did say you liked the stretch, after all.”
He pales.
“Only if you want to. You can always say no; don’t forget that.” She amends carefully. She knows he should know this—it’s come up before—but he has that nasty habit of throwing himself too far into the deep end. This reminder is crucial; she will not betray his trust.
Ichigo breaks eye contact to stare at the floor, contemplative. “Okay,” he replies, still looking away.
“Okay?”
“I-I want to try.” He’s turns to look at Rukia again, eyes revealing the steely steadfastness she knows well. Ichigo’s mind is made up.
Rukia smiles. This is going to be fun.
“Then breathe, Ichigo. Let me take care of you.” Finally, the tension starts to bleed out of him. When his shoulders fall, she presses a finger in again and he sighs. Good.
Watching him closely, Rukia can tell that he’s going to lose it soon. He isn’t just comfortable, he’s leaning more and more into her touch until his eyes flutter shut. Ichigo gasps and shudders, and Rukia feels the oh-so-pleasant throb around her fingers and cock. It feels good enough she almost cums, too. But no, that isn’t her role right now, so instead she revels in how much wetter he still gets. Focuses on that enticing slick slide that is now covering her thighs.
“Please,” he whispers, so Rukia leans in and places kisses across his brow in time with the soft touches of her fingers. They both shudder when Ichigo takes a deep breath and the slide gets that much smoother, but Rukia feels her heart stop with shock when Ichigo reaches down and grabs her wrist. Did she hurt him? As she opens her mouth to apologize, Ichigo pushes her finger in deeper and Rukia’s almost-apology becomes a moan. “I can take it,” Ichigo smiles at her. How does he make that soft, bashful gaze so hot? The dirty things that gentle look makes her want to do to him leave her feeling guilty, but when Ichigo starts rolling his hips, all her thoughts leave anyways.
Ichigo cums the moment Rukia even taps a second finger against his opening, barely suggesting an even greater stretch. It’s all stuttered breaths, and drawn up shoulders while Rukia bites her lip to maintain composure as she feels Ichigo relentlessly pulse around her dick. Watching him work himself into a frenzy, just using her to bring himself pleasure, is a good burn low in her gut, and she does not hesitate to tell him the way it makes her feel to see him fall apart. She thanks him for his trust. She praises him for his vulnerability. He shivers at her words as he comes down from the high, still warm and sung around her.
(She can’t get enough.)
“Mmm, good boy,” Rukia hums taking advantage of this body’s low voice. She runs her hands over his breasts and circles his nipples twice just to hear the gasp he makes again. Ichigo is still panting when she continues. “This is new, right? Me, still hard inside you even after you’ve come?” Ichigo nods. “Isn’t it delicious? And now you get to feel what it’s like to cum again.”
Rukia groans when he clenches around her. His reply is breathy as much as it is surprised. “What?” Her dick twitches at his sincere confusion. He hasn’t put it together, then?
“You’re in my body,” she thrusts up to emphasize her point. “I’m going to take advantage of it.” She knows she’s pushing Ichigo again, she knows, and Rukia begs inside her head that he will stop her if she’s gone too far. Trust isn’t just this submission she’s been pushing him towards tonight, it’s everything else too. Rukia hopes he knows. Rukia wants him to know that she trusts him to talk to her just as much as he trusts her to lead him safely. Sometimes she can’t find the words, so she holds her tongue while he meets her eyes.
Ichigo grins (a look strangely less foreign on her face than she would have guessed). She thinks she should have known better; Ichigo is always ready to buck expectations. “Oh?” he taunts, “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Rukia.”
Rukia returns the look of challenge in his eyes. “I don’t.”
(She can’t get enough.)