Disclaimer: Not mine, Tito's, Viz, and Shoen Jump. Don't sue.
A/N: I recently sent an e-mail to Tituba and asked her to engage in a little project, game, challenge…whatever strikes your fancy, and this is the result. The challenge was something that I use to do with a bunch of other people on this mailing list I've been on for more years than I care to count.
It was called a Lyrics Challenge, and the concept was for us all to get together, exchange songs, and use those songs provided to write a short story. Here are the results of that challenge. Six stories, all Ichigo and Rukia centric, three by me, and three by her. Enjoy.
Geek Gets the Girl
By American Hi-Fi
Another Friday night, to get the feeling right -- At the bar when he sees her coming over -- What you gonna do, if she walks up to you -- Tongue tied better get yourself together -- Pound another drink, to give him time to think -- What's your sign hey I think you know a friend of mine -- All the stupid lines, that he had ever heard -- Wouldn't come to mind he couldn't say a word
Tonight tonight, he's gonna get it right -- Even losers can get lucky sometimes -- All the freaks go on a winning streak -- In a perfect world, all the geeks get the girls
Got her holding steady, forget her name already -- Sweatin' hard not a smooth operator -- She's got it going on, dancing to her favorite song -- He's got the line is it your place or mine -- She turns and walks away, where did he go wrong? -- But waiting by the car, she says what took you so long
Tonight tonight, he's gonna get it right -- Even losers can get lucky sometimes -- All the freaks go on a winning streak -- In a perfect world, all the geeks get the girls
The very next day, he guessed she ran away -- The one and only in his bed so lonely -- But she comes walking in, with coffee and a grin -- Crazy as it seems, it wasn't just a dream -- And all around the world, people shout it out -- The geeks get the girls
Last night he finally got it right -- Even losers can get lucky sometimes -- All the freaks go on a winning streak -- Shout it all around the world cause the geeks get the girls
Geek Gets the Girl
Rogue Amazon Boo
Ichigo Kurosaki groaned as the harsh sunlight streaming through his window jump started the pounding in his head. Pushing himself up on his arms, he groaned again, flopped back down on his pillow, and pulled his blanket over his eyes.
His brain felt like someone had cut open his skull, removed it, run it through a meat grinder, strained it through a colander, pounded it flat with a meat tenderizer, given it a few licks through a blender, copped, diced, liquefied it, poured it back inside his skull, and sewed his head back together with a rusty needle without a drop of anesthetic.
He tried to swallow but his throat was dry. With another groan, he willed his limbs to move. He needed a bottle of aspirin and a gallon of water and he needed them right now. Problem was, he couldn't seem get up.
Groping blindly, his fingers curled around his alarm clock and bleary eyed he squinted at the red digital numbers. It blinked back at him, proclaiming the time two in the afternoon. Scowling, he fumbled the clock back onto the dresser and fell back.
"Fuck," he growled. Two 'o clock in the fucking afternoon; he'd slept for almost eleven hours.
"Never drinking again," he mumbled and grumpily threw his covers off only to stare down uncomprehendingly. He blinked once, twice, and frowned again. He was stark, butt ass naked. His frown deepened. He never slept naked, which begged the question.
Where the fuck were his clothes?
His moaned in pain and rubbed his temples, trying to get his tired mind to process cognitive thought. It didn't seem to want to cooperate. He rubbed his hand over his face and tried to relax and slowly, but surely neurons started firing.
He remembered that he'd allowed Keigo to drag him to a club last night even though he hated crowds, dancing, alcohol, and fun in general. The only reason he'd gone, instead of punching his annoying friend in the face, was because Rukia had come as close to begging him to go as she'd ever come to anything.
The annoying little midget had said she could add it to the report she'd been compiling about human mating practices for the Shinigami Women's Association. He'd balked at first and told her there was absolutely no fucking way he was taking her with Keigo and the guys so she could watch his friend hit on women. She'd somehow changed his mind.
The details on how were still fuzzy and he had to really dig to remember. When it hit him he growled, low.
He remembered now. She had pictures, pictures he'd thought he'd burned years ago that she'd manage to charm out of his crazy father. She had annoying, embarrassing, and reputation shattering baby photos of him in very compromising poses. It was enough to make him to shudder.
"Note to self," he muttered. "Find out where Rukia stashed those photos, steal them back, and have large bonfire."
He grumbled under his breath, swung his legs over his bed, and started hunting for his boxer shorts. He was scowling again and his traitorous thoughts drifted to the petite shinigami who'd managed to turn his world inside out. He'd known her for five years, had faced hollows, arrancar, and other shinigami with her and for her. She was the most important person in his life, but that didn't mean she didn't drive him completely insane.
Groaning yet again, he scanned his floor and abruptly froze. He blinked and waited for his mind to catch up to his shock so he could forcibly deny that he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. He closed his amber eyes, willed his head clear, opened them, and cursed roundly.
There was no fucking way he was looking at his boxers laying on the floor, tangled with a familiar matching set of plum purple bra and lacy panties. He looked beyond the tantalizing and panic inducing image to see the rest of his clothes, the blue shirt he'd worn last night, the dark denim jeans, socks, athletic shoes, scattered haphazardly and mingling with a familiar purple tank top and white vinyl mini-skirt.
A pair of discarded, strappy white sandals completed the image. The right sandal was under his desk and the left one was propped up near the door against the wall, as if they'd been flung off without a care where they landed.
Feeling faint, he sunk down into his desk chair and fisted his hands in his orange locks. Kami, what had he done? What had they done? He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face, his brow pinching together in thought.
Slowly, bits and pieces tumbled through the pain induced fog of his hang over. He cursed again and his shoulders slumped. It was all coming back to him. Hazily, he let his mind drift.
"I said no, Rukia," he growled and took a swig of his beer. The petite shinigami sat next to him and pouted prettily.
"Come on baka, what's the big deal? It's not like you'd really be trying to pick me up. I just want to know how it's done in the human world so I can add personal research to my report."
Ichigo scowled. Personal research? They'd been at the club for thirty minutes and already seven different guys had bought her drinks and tried to coax her on the dance floor. He grumbled something low and cast his gaze around. There were three more at the bar giving her the eye and he knew what was on the fuckers' minds. It wasn't rocket science after all. He chanced a glance at the woman next to him.
Rukia Kuchiki, his mentor, his friend, the women he'd gone to hell and back for, was completely oblivious to the fact that she was fucking hot. Ichigo started and gazed accusingly at his beer. It was his fifth and although he usually didn't have more than two, the parade of lecherous assholes coming on to Rukia had soured his spirits and made him a little reckless tonight.
It had to be the alcohol talking. He didn't think of Rukia like that and he sure as hell didn't care how many little pricks tried to pick her up. Taking a last swig, he downed the rest of the brew and motioned for another. This time though he asked the bartender for a Jäger bomb.
If he was going to drown this…feeling that was NOT jealously, he was going to need to step it up a bit. Growling, he eyed the drink and slid his gaze back to Rukia. Her deep indigo eyes seemed larger tonight, smokier. Probably because she was wearing make-up and the dark purple tank and white skirt she'd poured herself into left very little to the imagination. He could see the tops of her non-existent breasts under the purple V and he couldn't help but notice that they seemed, perkier than normal.
If he'd been a girl he'd know that the effect was the result of the joys of the push-up bra, but he wasn't so he didn't. Rukia was smirking at him in that annoyingly superior way of hers, and he responded by chugging his drink, wiping his mouth, and scowling at her.
"You know what I think? I think you're scared of me, Ichigo Kurosaki."
It took everything in him to control his start of surprise. Sometimes the way she just knew shit was spooky. He scowled, he'd thought he'd hid it so well too. Dammit, he didn't need this shit. He didn't need to be reminded that deep down, in places he didn't like to think about, he, Ichigo Kurosaki, probably one of the most powerful shinigami in the realms of the living and the dead, was indeed scared shitless of this slip of a midget girl with her luminescent purple eyes.
Especially when she was so close he could see the indigo and amethyst swirls of her corneas, could imagine the lush softness of her cherry lips, and found himself wondering how it would feel to pull her lithe body against his and devour her sweet mouth.
He growled a curse. He shouldn't be having these thoughts about Rukia, not now, not ever.
The problem was that she was too important to him, important in ways that weren't familiar or safe.
He could almost say it was like how he felt for his sisters, but then he'd never been in the habit of lying to himself. His sisters…well he loved them and would protect them with every inch of his being, but Rukia…his feelings for her were not brotherly in the least and if he were being honest with himself, they never had been.
If he lost her…
He couldn't, wouldn't complete that line of thought. It was better to keep it light, tease her, snark at her, and maybe he'd be able to continue hiding the deep seeded desperation, lust, and lov—
He needed another drink.
"Go away midget," he snarled. "It's not like you need me anyway. Go dance with a member of your fan club."
Rukia's eyes lost their teasing light and a hint of anger darkened them.
"If I didn't know better I'd think you were jealous."
He stiffened and glared at her hard.
"Why would I be jealous? It's not like I care what you do. You could go fuck every guy in here for all I care."
Real anger clouded her orbs this time and with it something that looked suspiciously like hurt.
"Asshole," she growled, stalked off, and grabbed the arm of the first guy that had bought her a drink. He looked like he was in heaven and the look only intensified when they reached the dance floor and she started to bump and grind that lithe little body up against his. Ichigo waved to the bartender once again.
"Tequila," he spat. Wordlessly the bartender poured him a shot and left it in front of him. As the night wore on she danced with the other men, had a few more drinks, and soon was looking decidedly glassy eyed and tipsy. Ichigo watched it all with a sullen frown.
He wasn't too steady himself, but the burning in his gut only seemed to intensify with each man she danced with. With a low muttered curse he pushed himself to his feet and stalked over to her and her latest partner.
The pure lustful look on the man's face had him clenching his fists in white knuckled anger. Acting on instinct he reached out quick as lightening, fisted the man's shirt in his hands, and pulled him close enough to growl.
The guy, thankfully, wasn't so drunk that he didn't recognize the murderous look in the smaller man's eyes. Swallowing, he nodded and scurried away. Rukia glared at Ichigo.
"Just what the HELL do you think you're doing?" He snarled an oath, wrapped one large arm around her waist, and pulled her against his body. She sucked in a startled breath and her eyes went wide.
"Dancing with you…what else?"
The pounding bass beat of the music slowed a bit as the songs cycled into something slow and sultry. Ichigo felt his mood instantly shift and all those feelings he'd been trying so hard to drown rose to the surface. Ever so gently he ran his large hands over her back and started moving against her in a sensual fashion.
"I-Ichigo?" She questioned; her voice breathy.
"Just go with it, Rukia," he murmured and surprisingly, she complied. Ichigo closed his eyes. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the atmosphere, or the feel of Rukia rubbing against his body, but the dance was turning from a simple impulsive act to one of the most erotic experiences of his life.
He moved his hands under her shirt, over her spine and around to caress her bare midriff. She sucked in a ragged breath and he felt her small hands, yank his shirt out of his jeans, slip under the soft material and ghost over his hard abdomen. The muscles rippled convulsively and he swallowed his moan.
He opened his eyes and looked down into hers and found the same feelings he was experiencing swirling in their depths.
He moved his hand up her back, cupped her neck, and plundered her soft mouth. She moaned and he dipped his tongue inside, fast and hard, and then slow and deep. Rukia mewled and pushed her own tongue forward, making the kiss deeper, hotter, and sexier.
When she sucked on his invading appendage he felt his stomach clench. When they pulled back they were breathing heavy and Ichigo knew that as soon as he got her home they were going to do something life altering.
And that he was most likely going to wake up and regret it.
Wrenching his mind back to the present he cursed again, but not before a slew of dangerous images assaulted his brain.
He and Rukia, tearing off each others clothes while they tried to suck each other dry, mouth to mouth. Him taking off her bra with his teeth and latching on to one perfectly shaped breast.
Her screaming in ecstasy while he had his head buried between her silky thighs. Him gritting his teeth while she ran her small pink tongue over his straining cock.
Her bouncing up and down on top of him while she rode him hard and fast. Him, his hands wrapped around her pert tits, while he plunged into her from behind.
Groaning he felt his cock twitch and he massaged a hand down his face again. He couldn't believe this. He goes on a bender and does the one stupid thing he swore to himself he'd never allow himself to do. He'd fucked Rukia senseless last night and damn him to hell, he wanted to do it again and again and again.
Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery and confess to Byakuya now. He might have mercy and make his death quick and painful instead of slow, torturous, agonizing, and exceedingly painful.
Cursing roundly, he got up, untangled his boxers from Rukia's underwear, and slid them up his legs. He was just about to open his bedroom door and go downstairs to see if he could find the midget when it swung open.
He froze as Rukia looked up and locked her indigo gaze with his. He swallowed and his gaze traveled down her frame. Kami, she was wearing his white undershirt from last night and since her underwear was on the floor behind him he knew she had nothing on underneath. His amber eyes flared; she blushed and thrust one of the cups she'd been carrying at him.
"Thought you might like some tea," she murmured. He took it robotically, brought it to his lips, and gulped it down, ignoring the way it burned down his raw throat.
She shuffled her feet and he fidgeted and neither could seem to find anything to say to break the awkward silence that had fallen. She bit her lip and worried it between her straight white teeth and for some reason the small gesture caused Ichigo to snap.
"This is fucking ridiculous," he growled, wrapped his fingers around her wrist, pulled her into the room and slammed his bedroom door shut. She stumbled and turned towards him, temper flashing in her eyes.
"What the hell did you do that for, baka!"
He crossed his arms over his bare chest and scowled. "What the fuck, Rukia! Don't you know better than to wander around the house half fucking naked. What if that perverted old man I have to fucking claim as my father were up. How the hell would you explain the fact that you're wandering around in one of my fucking shirts!"
She glared at him and started shaking, her temper turning into a full blown eruption.
"I swear you are such fucking moron! What the hell do you care if he was wandering around. You sure as hell weren't worried how much noise we made last night when you had your cock buried in me."
"I…that is…FUCK!" He roared and ran his hands through his already messy hair. She crossed her arms and scowled.
"Besides, you're father and your sisters aren't here, remember idiot. They are visiting your great aunt in Kyoto. Just how much did you have to drink last night?"
He glanced at the clothes littering the ground and muttered. "Too much obviously."
Rukia froze and Ichigo groaned when he realized how that sounded.
"Aw hell, Rukia I didn't mean it like…."
She suddenly punched him in the stomach and he doubled over with a loud "oomph."
He groaned and lifted his head to curse her when he felt he could take in enough breath to talk and promptly froze. He'd seen Rukia in snit, he's seen her in an apoplectic rage, but he'd never, ever seen Rukia looking like this. She was angry, so angry she was shaking with it, but the thing that gave him pause and made him feel ill was the undisguised hurt and the smattering of tears dusting her lashes.
She suddenly bolted away from him and jumped out his bedroom window. With a low muttered curse he started after her, only to jam his toe on the edge of his desk chair.
"Owww….FUCK!" He screamed and hobbled to the window. He cursed again.
She was gone.
After shoving on his discarded jeans and yanking on a fresh t-shirt Ichigo grabbed his brown jacket and sprinted out the front door. The minute he left the house the chill hit him and he shivered. A quick glance at the overcast sky provided the reason for the biting wind.
Growling, he remembered the state of undress Rukia had left in and knew that the stubborn little fool would be freezing.
He glowered at the sky accusingly and paused to get his bearings. Even after five years of being a death god he still sucked at sensing retisu but if he had a hope in hell of finding Rukia now would be a pretty good time to try and master it.
His only saving grace was that it was Rukia's retisu he was trying to trace and for some reason he was better able to sense her than anyone else. Closing his eyes, he reached for his own retisu and pushed it out. It immediately latched on to the spirit particles it recognized as Rukia's and he took off running.
He found her in the park down the road from his house, sitting under a large sugi tree. She looked up the minute he appeared and scrambled to her feet, but before she could run off again he sprinted over and caught her around the waist. The momentum threw them both to the ground.
The minute they landed she started kicked and scratching like an angry cat.
"Dammit," Ichigo cursed, rolled her under him, and subdued her using his larger frame. When she tried to scratch him he swore again, grabbed her hands, and pinned them above her head.
"Let go of me!" She howled. He glared at her.
"No…not until you stop screeching and let me explain."
He winced as she screeched even louder and Ichigo was silently grateful that the park was deserted. He would hate to think how it would look to a passerby to see him pinning down an angry, half naked girl.
"I don't care what you have to say. You're an ass, Ichigo Kurosaki! Do you think that was fucking easy for me, to come into your room…and…and…dammit. And for you to imply that it was a mista…" Her words choked off.
He swore low and soft when he saw the renewed dusting of tears on her lashes. Tears she was too damn proud to let fall. He felt his heart seize and he whispered fiercely.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Rukia. I swear I didn't mean it to sound like that…please come back with me and we'll talk."
Please, don't leave me! His mind screamed. He could endure anything, arrancar, hollows, her brother, anything, but he knew he wouldn't survive losing her. Not now, not ever.
Rukia was still struggling and parted her lips to deliver a scathing retort when she caught the look in his eyes. She froze; she'd never seen Ichigo look at her like that.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
He was making her nervous, not that she'd admit it. His amber gaze seemed to pierce her soul and she swallowed. He scowled.
Now that she wasn't struggling he felt his own nerves dance. Looking into her eyes, he could only think of one way to make things right between them and the thought had every part of his being screaming in terror. His lips in a grim line and his permanent scowl deeply in place he gruffly muttered.
"Fuck midget, you know I love you, right?"
She went ridged underneath him and her eyes went wide as saucers.
"W-What?" She stuttered. He scowled harder at her.
"You, I'm pretty damn sure I'm in love with you, which is why I acted like an asshole loser at the club last night. It's also why I combusted when you started tearing at my clothes. You make me crazy Rukia Kuchiki…you always have."
Stunned beyond speech, she could only stare at him. The silence stretched and he fidgeted. Suddenly he growled.
"Dammit, stop looking at me like that. You had to fucking know. You think I would've gone through the kind of shit I've gone through for you for just anyone?"
She bit her lip and looked away. Did she know? If she was being honest with herself she suspected but suspecting and having him come right out and say it. She didn't know what to say. She never really...
She knew she owed him something and she parted her lips to tell him…well she wasn't really sure what, but she was sure something would come to her...when the sky opened up and it started pouring.
Ichigo growled something unintelligible, pulled her into his arms bridal style, and took off back towards the house. In the space of a heartbeat they were through the front door, up the stairs, and standing in the middle of his bedroom. He mumbled something else and wrapped a thick terry cloth towel around her shoulders, rubbing it up and down her arms and refusing to meet her gaze.
Soaking wet, grumbling, and in his own annoyingly gruff and sweet way, taking care of her she finally found the words that she'd been unable to utter before.
"You know baka, for a rude, egotistical, grumpy human you're really not half bad, and I probably…well I think, maybe…I think I might love you, too."
He paused and smirked at her.
"Think you could've made that little confession any more ambiguous, midget?"
She glared at him and because he couldn't think of a reason not to, he lowered his head and captured her lips with his own. She shifted and moaned when he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her flush with his large body, and slipped his tongue between her petal soft lips.
When he sucked her tongue into his hot mouth she felt her knees go weak. Growling, he picked her up, stripped his wet t-shirt off of her body, and dropped her unceremoniously on the bed.
She glared at him.
"I swear moron; I'm not a sack of potatoes! You can't just throw me over your shoulder and dump me anywhere you want. Kami, you're such a loser sometimes."
He smirked and shrugged. "Yeah maybe, but even losers can get lucky," he said, pulled his t-shirt over his head, dropped it, shucked his wet jeans, socks and shoes, and pounced on her. She made a very un-Rukia-ish sound somewhere between a squeal and a yelp. He grinned down at her, lowered his head, and gently ran his tongue over the pulse point on her slim neck. She made a low keening sound and her breathing grew heavy.
He kissed a path down her neck and caught one straining pinked tipped areole between strong white teeth, sucking lightly and laving the sensitive skin with his tongue. She fisted her hands into his hair, arched against him, and moaned. In between pants she muttered.
"This…is ah…going to…Kami, do that again...get complicated."
He pulled his lips away from her breast with a tiny pop and regarded her wryly.
"Midget, it's always been complicated." He resumed his previous activity and started kissing a path between her small breasts, down her belly button, stopping at her thighs. They were so slim he could almost wrap his entire hand around the firm flesh. He placed a light kiss against her taut thigh muscle and she expelled a light gasp.
"My brother is going to kill you."
"Probably," he muttered and kissed her other thigh. She bit her lip.
"Yamamoto is going to flay us alive."
He shrugged. "He can try." She scowled, but her scowl turned into a mewl when he dipped his head and ran his strong tongue along her labia.
"This is crazy. I'm could be your great times ten grandmother." Ichigo tongued her again enjoying the squeak she made and tilted his head so he could look up at her from his position between her silky legs. He pushed himself up on his forearms and regarded her steadily.
"Rukia, I don't care about that. You're mine. You'll always be mine. If every damn Captain of the Seireitei came busting in here with the intent of taking you away from me I would take all the fuckers on and I would win, because one thing for certain. No one, human, shinigami, vizard, arrancar, hollow or other will ever be taking you away from me again. I don't care who I have to hurt, maim, or kill to ensure it."
With that rather startling monologue Ichigo plunged his head between her thighs and promptly shoved his tongue inside her, scattering her thoughts and making her unable to respond with anything but a loud moan.
Her very last coherent thought for the afternoon was, as crazy as his proposal seemed, she believed him. He would rage at the gods themselves for her. It was a disconcerting and humbling thought.
And to think it all started with one fateful meeting and the thrust of a zanpakutō.
One thing for certain, it looked like Ichigo Kurosaki finally got his timing right when it came to his vicious midget. All it took was a lot of alcohol, a ton of jealously, and a night of frantic, lust induced love making.
However it started, he knew…he was never going to let her go.