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@rangikuxmatsumoto:
The morning had been uneventful, quiet – with only a few reports and forms needing her signature and no meetings to speak of – so her venturing away from her desk wouldn’t set off any alarm bells, nor hinder any plans. Her walking wasn’t aimless however, the streets were calm as the few souls she passed walked along at a leisurely pace. Arriving at her destination, she found his dojo in a state of peaceful serenity – if he wasn’t training recruits, or practicing himself, it meant he was taking part in only one other action – meditation. The door slid silently open as she discarded her scandals at the threshold. Socked feet barely made a sound as she crossed the matted floor before sinking down behind him, arms encircling his waist as her chin came to rest gently upon his shoulder. She sensed her presence had been noted by the slight tensing of his body at her touch, followed immediately by a relaxing ease. “—Morning…” Her voice was tender, barely above that of a whisper, not intending to disturb him more than she already had – initially.
Breathe in... Then out. No noises around, the dojo as still as could be. It was still early morning (relatively anyway) and with the majority of the squad still unavailable (each in their own reasoning), he had some time to himself. Despite the working day having already started, Ikkaku was well aware that his Captain would very much forgive him if he neglected to do his paperwork, granted it was for the sake of fun and fighting. Now, meditation isn't exactly what you'd call fun. But it was most definitely preparation for battle. A warrior's greatest strength is their mental fortitude - as is their greatest weakness. While he was a Lucky man, one graced with the simplicity in battle, he also had to keep a clear head if he was to engage with a foe that would ultimately, prove too powerful for him to face. That, he learned firsthand on an unfortunate critical moment.
The only sounds passing by his ears were of his breaths, in and out; fully immersing in the feeling of his chest expanding, then shrinking again with his lungs' movement. Simply being there, present, still. At ease. That is all that is required. While usually he would immerse himself in combat, or reliving some battle of the past; today, he had elected to remain unmoving and undeterred instead. Birds chirping heard through the gaps in the dojo window... The faint footsteps of those treading by the dojo wooden floor with their socks, skidding faintly over the polished floor. Those were the occasional interferences he'd took note of, only to resume his stance calmly.
What he'd figured would happen sooner or later, came to pass: he was snapped out of his personal moment. While it is arguable whether or not he truly considered this serene personal time to be his own if he anticipated someone coming to get him out of it, he was nonetheless genuine in his reaction. Knowing it will happen, just not when. The draping of those slender arms around his front, his breathing's rhythm was moved as a jolt ran in his body.
Fully taking in every motion she'd grant; the touch through his trapezius, sliding down. It was her forearms at first, though the wrist would join soon as her embrace reached his upper chest; feeling the light shift in weight from behind as his back was softly grazed as well. Further down, her hands interlocking over the lower joining of his chest -- hovering above his sternum, her pinky nail making light touch as her weight came to further lean on him, her face resting atop his shoulder.
A smile rising over his features. A long sigh accompanying as he took his sweet time before starting to open his eyes again. Being at ease, used to her touch and the frame by now but cherishing it ever, even now. "Morning." He replied, the tint of joy evident in his lowered tone despite the prickliness of being interrupted.
Ikkaku had honestly assumed whoever would snap him back would be either Yumichika, or one of the squad members who'd come early to take an early strike at him. He was struck, yes, though not very conventionally.
Opening his eyes, easing his posture almost completely as he gave in; reaching for her farther cheek with a hand to caress the side, by the ear. "Don't really see you out of bed these hours."
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@rangikuxmatsumoto: Just casually sits down behind him, arms wrapping around his waist as her forehead pressed against his shoulder.
Nuguigami held at his right, Hozukimaru layed forward with the handle held at his left and the blade facing upwards; slow-paced, experienced strokes granted to clean the sword. Maintenance is important - an expert is only as good as the condition of their tools. While he'd often opt to do so at his Dojo to serve an example for the newbies (or keep watch over them to berate their lack of skill make sure they do it right), every now and then Ikkaku would do it at the wooden porch of his house. Despite the lack of sunlight at that particular afternoon - cloudy weather coating the sky, it would never be used as an excuse to procrastinate his duties (considering it's his primary tool for fighting).
The subtle wrapping around his form followed by the light weight against his shoulder was very much welcome. Heart warmed by the gesture, he was sure she was at her own leisure, probably doing her nails or something. It just so happened by chance that both were home, though despite the workload off their to-do list there were still some things to take care of. In Ikkaku's case, it was surely easier than in the blond's, considering their respective Captains - and was he to assume to gentleman's mantle, he'd remind her to take care of her own Zanpakuto as well. He'd actually do her's to boot if it wasn't a principle by now to make her to do it herself.
For the moment. He'd give her that. If she found her comfort in him like that, it's all the better. Taking in a gentle breath, chest puffing only slightly as he continued paying mind to his business; the shift in his lungs surely felt in her embrace as he signed to open his mouth, "What's up?"
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@rangikuxmatsumoto: Settles into his lap with a little wiggle of her hips as she opens a magazine to read. Her boyfriend makes a wonderful chair.
Today, we rolled a bratty girlfriend.
Seated on the hard wood floor, an open notebook in one hand and a freshly-inked brush in the other; taking time off lousy office work to get some outside peace of mind, hoping to manage and squeeze a bit of inspiration for a new poe-- err, draft. Yeah. Though evidently, paperwork never gets any pleasant; who cares about writing reports about peaceful days anyway? Grumbling, he gazed intensely into the empty paper; a drop of ink falling from his brush and dying a blade of grass in black.
Up comes a very familiar blond with the intrusive approach, boasting absolute disregard for his focus as she plopped herself straight into his lap - comfortably nesting in spot right in-front of his face.
Though his posture remained undeterred, remaining with his back comfortably slouched a tad forward despite the sudden load in-front; “...” For a moment, he stared at the back of her head. The smell of her shampoo was pleasant as ever and fact that it lingered despite her hair being dry noted to a recent shower and, lack of physical activity; that is to say, she probably took a nap in her office again. Squinting, his eyebrows furrowed further than their regular grumpy state; practically screaming with his aura that he was dissatisfied. But then, she obviously knew that. She wouldn’t drop herself into him like that out of the blue if it didn’t bother him.
Well. So much for writing. “...I can’t see.”
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@rangikuxmatsumoto asked: Beans him in the back of the head with a crumpled up piece of parchment. "Hey loser."
Unpleasant bump against the back of his head. Great, now it’s itchy. His eyebrow twitched; there could only be two people in Soul Society who’d dare take that approach with him. His initial hopes leaned towards one more than the other, though; and it proved to match his silent prayer as her cocky tone soon followed.
His somewhat irritated face turned to her, looking down for a brief moment before breaking in a familiar smile - reserved for only one person.
“Hey you.”
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@rangikuxmatsumoto asked:
Using her foot to kick shove the wooden practice swords that he was painstakingly taking the time to repair out of her way she plopped down in his lap and open up the magazine that she held bookmarked in her hand. The open page reading 'Relationship Quiz: Ask Your Boyfriend these Questions...'
The process of repairing broken swords isn't an easy one, such trouble only mitigated by the material these bokken were made of (being, well, wood). As one in charge of training (read: primary squad abuser), and especially following the official promotion, seeing that all equipment was in top shape unfortunately fell to the bald man's jurisdiction. To say he could be doing better would be a stretch, honestly; he's been used to these sort of tasks, albeit on a more selfish intention rather an altruistic one.
Broken wooden swords were hard to mend. The sheer amount by itself didn't leave much free time, but the process by itself was long enough to deter most from even attempting it. While most would wrap some paper aids around the broken, mendable parts and call it a day, Ikkaku preferred going the longer route. The split wooden swords were goners, nothing could be done about those. But the cracked ones could be patched properly with some glue, designated materials, proper wrapping and in extreme cases, tsugi: using metal fillings to hold the laced wood in place.
He'd been indulging in the act, begrudgingly really, for at least an hour and some. Two swords set aside to dry after being recoated with varnish, seven to go, one in the making for a total of ten. Some time into work he could hear the house door slide open as the woman came in, exchanging a short-lived, proper greeting before he was allowed to return to his focus. He could at least respect that Rangiku knew when to stay put and let him work.
-- Yeah, as if. Of course she'd push away the finished products without care. "HEY!!!" He yelled, immediately riled as he watched his hard work crumble in the pressure of the fall. Not even allowed to give chase and restack the items as the woman decided it was her time now, seating herself very nonchalantly at his lap.
"Do you have ANY idea how long that took!!?" Ikkaku cried in frustration, disregarding the fact she chose absolute proximity, resulting in a practical scream into her ear.
But of course, the lady remained adamant in her endeavors to get on his nerves. Straightening her back and holding out the magazine for both to view, reading out loud in a clear voice, clearly for him to hear: 'Relationship Quiz: Ask Your Boyfriend these Questions'.
... ... Dumbfoundedness, letting the woman proceed into 'Question 1' in his stun, soon turned into a solid sneer, almost in complete disbelief. "...SERIOUSLY!!?" Her excuse for tarnishing his hard-earned work and effectively delaying the deadline by at least another hour and a half, was... A magazine. A quiz. If he didn't know her by now, he'd have thought this to be a really bad joke. "Can't this WAIT!!?"
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@rangikuxmatsumoto || (super late-answered) Ikkaku Birthday Wishes
She had done it, after hours of slaving away in the kitchen, going so far as asking for help – and sticking strictly to the recipe she had accomplished the impossible feat of crafting a perfect, tasteful (unbelievably boring) bento box. No ‘weird’ combinations in sight. He’d have to be happy about that and if he wasn’t – well, it was the thought that counted right? And besides, she had also baked him a cake – again with no creative measures taken on her behalf. Plus, there may or may not have been a purchased one as back up just on the off chance she had somehow messed up baking powder with baking soda – or was it the other way around? Never-the-less, both the lunch and the cake were decoratively wrapped as she made her way to his dojo. The third and final present was really a two-part gift, one being a night out that she had planned with all their friends joining them for drinks, but the other was a newly crafted practice sword, engraved and stylized to match the gold shoulder plate he had adapted to wearing in battle. That gift should have already arrived at the dojo, with a very clear note that stated for him to NOT OPEN until she arrived midday. She managed to slide open the door to the dojo with a finger as she balanced the food before announcing her presence. “Happy Birthday Ikkaku~!”
There was something about birthdays when you're a little older that seems to make it redundant. In the case of souls living years over years, you'd think the same would apply; as after a while, things get old (pardon the pun). It's the same as always once one settles into a routine. One can expect a celebration of sorts given the right environment, typically incorporating drinks, and with the widespread concept it's understandable how one would feel entitled, even if they have nothing. Anyone would be lying if they said they weren't even a little expectant on their birthday, even if generally they didn't seem to care much.
In Ikkaku's case, he was very much aware of his birthday. He was very much expecting to be treated better, and at the same time -- considering the hell he'd been through to reciprocate -- expected his girlfriend to remember.
The wrapped sword gift sat there all day. He'd been side-eying it for the while as he trained, the wraps keeping him curious as the annoying note and clear command kept him on edge, reluctantly abiding if only to make the surprise factor a little bit better. The trainees that day wished him their wishes, some forgot (and got beaten up for it) and some didn't. But the gift remained hanging by the corner of the wall, catching his eye every time he walked in its general direction; thus forcing the trainer to renovate his entire training positioning as to not falter in focus.
When she'd arrived, it was already late; and he was, understandably, prissy. Arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed as his finger impatiently tapped against his sleeve, hearing her footsteps approach. "You're late!!" --That is to say, you kept me waiting. She wasn't really late, actually. There was no dedicated time to arrive, both knew that; but his declaration of dissatisfaction should at the very least notify her of the temptation he'd gone through, despite the rising goofy smile at seeing her so chipper, balancing food on her hands.
Ahh, damn. He'd planned to at least get a good shout in. She went and ruined it by being thoughtful.
As expected of his girlfriend.
Rangiku was famous among her peers for her lacking talent in cooking, or at least, the questionable creativity she portrayed making... Well, anything. Ikkaku himself has voiced out his disgust at her abominations more than once, even if in time he turned more mindful of her efforts. Seeing the food looking at the very least decent this time was reassuring, dare he say cute, at the same time. She realized his taste buds weren't agreeing with her creations; and adjusted accordingly. All that inferred at a glance, as he couldn't help but grab the woman by the waist for a long-awaited greeting, deep kiss.
"Thanks, Rangiku." Still weird. But the smitten smile on his face, tinted with pride and general glee would tell of his feelings. He appreciated every gesture she took to surprise him today. And she could bet he'd set the same standard for her next birthday (if not more. Probably more. She'd only demand as such).
He wouldn't open his gift yet (despite guessing what it was, probably in pinpoint accuracy). No, he'd indulge himself in sharing his new bento with her first. See what happens afterwards.
#rangikuxmatsumoto#intoxicate me now {||} ikkaran#q.#:3 ;-;#there is no smiley to portray both of these at once
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@rangikuxmatsumoto is being fucking cheeky.
Tenderly rubs the cue-ball – his head – after smacking him (again, for like the tenth time) in a silent apology. “So…what do you use…to get this shine? Microfiber? Terry Cloth?” Snickers.
The act was welcome; hardly anyone got to touch the top of his head without getting their face decked, though there were some exceptions; herself being an obvious one among them. Though the mutual teasing had escalated to one such comment that stung slightly more than the rest, and perhaps he'd overreacted with his threats; going as far as to crack the very broom he was holding just by gripping at it hard enough.
This led to that, and she was now giving some extra care. Though she definitely knew he'd get pissed, progressively moreso, with every smack against his hairless top. In and of itself, this was rather nice; letting his partner tend to him, despite him being fairly experienced at this point with grooming and care (thanks to a certain effeminate best friend). He's always been particularly sensitive about his head, and as such before even letting her touch it (freely anyway), you could imagine what a big deal he made out of it and the subsequent disappointment at her disbelief at such.
...Twitch. He was half-certain she was teasing him yet again, eyes narrowing with a silenced grumble. Knowing Rangiku however, she wouldn't expect much of an answer now, would she. And with her tending to it, she only deserved to know. The reason why his head was as shiny as it is? He turned to her and unhesitatingly, while her fingers were at the midst of their deeper rub, said one word only:
"Sweat."
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@rangikuxmatsumoto: A fukutaichous meeting had just ended, but few were in any sort of rush to return to their duties, instead – most stood milling about, chatting, arranging plans for the evening. Having said her goodbyes to Nanao and Momo, she had sauntered over to a certain bald-headed man who was occupied by idle conversation. There was just enough space for her to squeeze her way up against his side, her left hand brushed up under his chin to cup his opposite cheek, apply gentle force to get his profile to turn in her direction before she placed a quick, yet full kiss upon his lips. With that, she simply patted his cheek, walking off with a little waggle of her fingertips in a wave.
By now he's gotten used to this status. The Fukutaichou meetings at the start were a hassle if nothing else, a ton to sort out and a little less to report - though whatever paperwork Ikkaku was presented with was always a drag (that he may or may not have dumped on his best friend to help him with). But now after the Tokinada episode came to its close, more and more of the mundane took stage. The likes of which the bald man could very easily handle. It wasn't even daily anymore; turning weekly in light of most things in the Seireitei working relatively within order.
Admittedly he fell asleep during this meeting. He'd lie if he said he cared about who caught on to that, though through some idle conversation it appears that it wasn't very easy to miss. A true testament to the normality that took over, or if you will, to Ikkaku's lack of interest in many of the matters. Whatever contribution Iba-san, Renji or Rangiku proposed was far enough; most of his attendance was in necessity anyway. Fortunately, these tended to be rather lax.
-- "You don't actually believe that thing works, do you??" Idle conversation. Leverage of the unremarkability of said meeting meant their gathering turned more into a simple hangout rather than anything work related. Fact of the matter is - with a set amount of time allocated beforehand, the Fukutaichou could do whatever they wanted with their time, granted everything to-be-covered in their meeting was met. In this case, "It's obviously a scam! Why would you buy that!" it was just some 'boys talk'.
The small standing circle consisting of Iba-san, Renji, Hisagi, Omaeda, Akon and naturally, Ikkaku himself. Talking about some natural herb that as it turns out, became a hot topic among some of the Shinigami. A new discovery in West Rukongai district 2, only available there and nowhere else. Or, whatever else. Comparing prices of several stalls, browsing the newly-uploaded catalogue of the Iron Dragonfly store and a bunch of other pointless things. These times too, they weren't so bad.
Of course, nobody could miss her entering their little circle. Her shampoo's scent overtaking the manly musk surrounding their gathering instantly. Despite not even seeing her from the corner of his eyes, Ikkaku could tell Rangiku decided to tag in. Even so, conversation went on as usual. "--No, another mouth in your palms is just gonna break your teeth. It's the ches--" Whatever stupid remark he landed was cut short as a slender hand took over his cheek, immediately turning his face to look at the blond.
She wasn't forceful with it. It was a smooth motion, taking advantage well of the fact he was totally relaxed around the guys. He didn't have much time to take in her expression. Though her familiar scent up-close and abrupt, through her entering their space to her initiating contact, didn't help in getting his guard up. She assumed full control as without remotely warning, she took the liberty to claim his lips.
Quickly. Passionately. Sweet as ever... and right there, in-front of fucking everyone.
Suffice to say conversation died at that moment. This impish blond also displayed the nerve to lightly pat his cheek before turning heel, and exiting. Leaving the bald man dumbfounded, eyes widened and blinking twice in some shock; watching her wavy hair swing lightly as she made her springy, nonchalant way away. Leaving him to deal with the consequences, as if she was never there - but her mark left way stronger than-- No, actually. She probably knew how bold the mark she left was.
Just as quickly as she came in, she left. Leaving the rest with varying degrees of awakened desire, but mostly -- frustration and confusion.
His and her names called out loudly through this guy and that guy, different reactions ignited. With his Shihakusho's top grasped and a threat screamed his way for 'bragging', Ikkaku's cheeks reddened at once as the weight of her action fell upon all of them at the same time. Chest flaring, palms grabbing thin air. Obligatory smile restrained with his attempts to process, as the chaos she caused ensued.
"---- WHAT WAS TH-- WHAT'RE--!!?"
Oh boy.
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@rangikuxmatsumoto: ⚔️ I DEMAND PROTECTIVE IKKAKU
How'd this happen? --Ahh, right. He's just lucky.
The war never ended with Yhwach's defeat. Remnants across time surging on the very rare occasion, dispatching the best of the best to the scene to prevent any potential damage. It may have only been the King of the Quincies' remnants, though the danger his mere presence posed a year ago was enough to sound an emergency of the highest degree in the Seireitei.
It just so happens that the first to arrive at the scene was the only vacant Fukutaichou at the time; sent as the vanguard to the scene. Natually, a Fukutaichou that's been in service as long as she was, would manage to hold her ground; especially considering the urgency of such alarm would garner the arrival of several others, as well as Captains to boot. In other words, help was on its way.
Despite that... This wasn't the first time this alarm struck, though a tad too close to the last one. And strangely enough, specifically when she happened to be nearby with a group of nobodies. He trusted in Rangiku's abilities, of course. She was well-rounded in just about enough fields to protect herself and her squadmates should anything happen, and should be able to hold the remnants enough for the reinforcements to arrive. In this instance, it happened to be himself, Iba, the Kotetsu sisters and Yadomaru. All others were, unfortunately too far; though that roster by itself, including Rangiku, was enough. Under every circumstance observed on surface level, this was well within manageable scope. And even so, Ikkaku couldn't shake the feeling that something was, off. And not only him.
Speed was never in his best attribute. Even now as a Fukutaichou, he had trouble spamming Shunpo the same way his peers probably preferred to during combat. Though the uneasiness urged him to push faster, eventually finding his girlfriend within sight - the same time as the rest of the team. What laid however was, much less desirable. The sight of at least one of her subordinates downed, laid alone by a single tree in the outskirts of this Rukon district. As he observed her form rushing to their aid, her protectiveness over her squad members apparent as one who would take responsibility for their injury; the swirling black energy began to form behind her.
The other squad members weren't around; this was this nobody kid and her, alone. By every means, this was perceived as a targeted assault. But not one they wouldn't be able to interc--
"RANGIKU--!!!"
Without warning, the black swirl protruded one sharpened edge in almost perfect timing, directly aiming to pierce her. Though the attempt thankfully failed; as the blond was forcefully pushed to the side, forced to smack against the floor as the freshman from the 10th knocked over as well. The attack thankfully missed. It could have been bad if she took that -- it's a good thing they got there in...
"..."
...Looking down, his vision failing for a split-second, registering what had happened. Watching the shadowy appendage piercing through his abdomen, red tainting his Shihakusho and splattered over his golden plated arm. Wincing as the urge to vomit turned stronger than him, coughing out blood. The strong scent of iron overtaking, before it disappeared entirely; as the black appendage sharply exited his abdomen and back, only to be assaulted by the aiding troops. At least, that's what he perceived as his hearing dimmed out.
--Oh, right. That hasn't happened in a long time. Maybe the peacefulness of daily life dulled his blade, perhaps the sense of urgency dissipated at once and left him dizzy; though the bald man found himself unable to stay on his feet, giving in and falling to his knees with a gaping hole in his abdomen bleeding profusely - spilling red further down his Hakama. Very quickly, he could feel himself losing his consciousness. He's been there far too many times to mistake this. Dulled, dimmed voices, maybe calling his name. Maybe calling for a medic. Maybe chasing the shadow. Alone with his thoughts, strangely regretting putting himself in such misery; but not for the outcome. Rather for how pathetic his demise ultimately ends up being.
Her voice eluded him, but acknowledging his throat would fail him - Ikkaku remained only wishing in his mind, and strangely, being grateful. If somehow he wakes up from this, he'll undoubtedly get his head chewed off. But... He made it in time, after all. In the end,
He's just lucky.
Lucky that she's safe.
#rangikuxmatsumoto#intoxicate me now {||} ikkaran#tw blood#blood tw#yeah this was fun to write#SPOILER ALERT: 4TH DIVISION EXISTS
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@rangikuxmatsumoto:
A multitude of expressions could have crossed her features at his unannounced and unexpected arrival – but shock would not have been one of them. He had as much stealth as a herd of stampeding elephants, and she might deny it, but she had become rather accustomed to his spiritual pressure. Seeking it out when apart and pinpointing it when close. So, at first, when she had heard the rapid approach of hurried footfalls, she originally thought it may have been division related, only for her to realize just who was coming. As for what, well she was quick to assume.
Was she being petty, yes, but don’t they say distance makes the heart grow fonder? And besides, this trick was tried and true, having never failed her in the past. And based solely on Ikkaku’s furrowed brow, smirk, and penetrating stare – near glare – it clearly worked on him. Still, she hadn’t intended to take it this far, or this long. A day or two was usually all it took to get one caught on her line to be reeled in, but he had survived over a week of her placing distance between them. She had planned on some witty retort when he finally buckled and demanded to know why she had been giving him the cold shoulder – but those catty remarks were silenced on her lips as his lips crashed against hers.
He may not have managed to shock her in his arrival, but he still managed to surprise her.
Before she could register what had exactly happened, she realized she was staring up at the ceiling, Ikkaku’s dark stare peering down at her as she laid pinned beneath him. Her name – her first name – even after all this time, hearing it roll off his tongue still caused her heart to skip a beat, she’d hang on by bated breath. Deep within her soul, it sent a ripple through her – reaching the very top of the crown of her head, to the tips of her toes and back. Her flesh puckered and the hairs on her arms and neck rose – but beyond the subtle effects, heat rose in her cheeks staining them a rosy pink from the tips of her ears across the bridge of her nose.
Her breath caught once more as his lips found hers again in heated embrace, his traveling hand igniting fires beneath her skin as it snaked down her body. Knuckles lifted from the hard wood surface to cup his cheeks as she returned the fiery kiss. Her leg rising to hook around his thigh and draw him closer as her lips broke away from his, lingering – wanting more, needing more – “Then takes what’s rightfully yours, Madarame.”
He might not have been able to see the smirk on her lips due to their close proximity, but she knew he could sense it. Lips took possession of his this time – like she said, this trick hadn’t failed her yet.
This bitch. This, bitch.
She really did know exactly what she was doing!! She definitely planned this!! In and of itself, that served to rile his spirits even further. If he wasn’t already craving taking her for himself, he’d have stopped there and then just to get back at her. He wouldn’t think about it for weeks on end but, that reaction said it all - how she too missed his own presence, despite this stupid game she was playing. At the moment, all the bald man had in mind was going through with everything he could think of with her.
Even now, using her first name in private felt plain weird. Kept off to whenever they were mostly intimate, or at the very least with closer friends; formalities kept in order if just to keep appearances properly. While he wouldn’t mind using first names with most people, with her it simply felt different. No matter how many times he’d utter it in her presence, shifting constantly was getting tiring. Sooner or later, he’d have to commit himself to one or the other... And it was obvious which one it was going to be.
Amazing what a week of torment can do to a man. It was just another battle by every means, though while different from his usual, he’d gotten himself immersed in it way before it began. Her coiling leg and aggressive action weren’t met with resistance, simply using her momentum to amplify his own. In light of his own seemingly unmoved smirk, it was clear how he’d missed-- no, ignored her growing amusement. At least on her face. Welcoming the approach, laying himself practically on top of her; barely held above by virtue of his core, pressing himself further into the kiss as his head weighed over her’s. His hand running down her features, slipping easily under the flimsy Shihakusho - now more than ever, finding himself unconsciously glad at how loose an attire it really was. Made all easier to invade with her bolded features aiding.
But he came to take what’s his - not indulge her in some apparent desire. He came for himself and would act for himself, a fitting result of the similarly-intentioned act she put up. While humoring her welcomed affection for a brief bit, tongue and lip played with as he’d fiddled with her own approaches; it wasn’t up for long. Granted, time in these cases always flies so fast, he might have allowed himself to take more of it than he’d intended -- before at a solid jolt, his hand over her cheek clenched as his thumb forced her chin up, hand grabbing and pulling by the nape of her neck; disconnecting their passionate kiss to at once, reach to bite and suckle at her earlobe.
His hand over her body motioned firmly over her soft skin, almost all the way down to her hip and then pulled up. And at his breaking point, it too clutched hard against her side; if in excuse of a better hold, as his entire body tensed to bolster his turn’s tenacity. There was no room in his battle plan for whatever gesture she wanted to give. He was going to make her his for the taking, the way he knows best how to take.
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The pungent pause was too much. Unable to stand the silence that seemed like an eternity, when in reality - barely half a second had passed - she turned to face him. She wasn't sure how she was keeping her emotions in check, but stared at him stone faced but there was no disguising the pleading in her eyes. "...If you don't love me," she choked on the statement, her first falter, "just tell me, so I can stop telling myself that there's something here." She swallowed hard, breaking eye contact with him to look away, "I won't do that again..." her last statement whispered more for herself than for him.
@rangikuxmatsumoto; oh you fucking b---
-- “If it wasn’t already abundantly clear,” Renji knew. Iba knew. Actually, Renji knew from a long time ago, actually. He’d earned that right in full respect of course, being awfully close to both and their personal group of friends. Kuchiki knew as well, naturally. Arguable whether or not Hinamori knew too, but that’s as far as he could think. Then again, -- “we��re dating.” -- oh. It’s also possible Kurotsuchi knew. -- when she makes a bold statement like that in public, he can’t help but wonder how the rest would take it. Surely some wouldn’t mind, but knowing them from before stepping into duty, it was likely some would receive it far differently than others. I mean, how would Hisagi and Kira react to this? And worse, Kuna.
Roped in by the hand. This woman always goes and does things like that... Sharing a momentary look after the spoke, and the room was filled with silence. Much as most wanted to leave and go by their own business, now they couldn’t. This wasn’t a work-related manner, but interpersonal. And with the relationships they’ve built with their peers, it’s only natural they’d get inquired a tad longer after they disperse.
What followed was, understandably troublesome. He was already frustrated with how she went out of line and made it public to everyone, despite them keeping it private for the most part. Not everybody needed to know, yet there was still the issue of suitors approaching her, much to his deep displeasure. That said, why now? -- Much as he’d wanted to wait until he was ready to make the announcement, seems that kind of time wasn’t allowed at all. Which makes sense in retrospect. Their talk last night wasn’t too justifying to allow them to keep it hidden, right? Given that whole charade with the random guy approaching his girlfriend like that. But rather than address that, he wasn’t given much of a chance as the blond simply blitzed right out the meeting towards, well, somewhere. And naturally, “Hey.” he had to follow through.
And matching suit, “Hey!” he’d received no reply. Her hair fluttering behind her shoulders as her pace obviously picked to run away, Ikkaku could only give chase as his own thumping footsteps persisted to match her escape. Calling out to her again and again, with different ideas to spark a reaction; but nothing worked. This is... Definitely about them sharing that look, right? Or maybe-- Several approach attempts, the likes of light conversation and even truthful annoyance, reflected in his growing frustration with her blatantly ignoring him. He even went for a shallow jab, with how she elected not to heed him any attention. Thankfully, even he was above questioning their status over a small breakout. It’s nothing new, he’d think.
...That said. “Okay, fine!!” Just as they’d stepped into her apartment, he finally threw his arms up in defeat, closing the door behind him as he had to fight the urge to flail about in annoyance. Surely she’d get how fed-up he was with this farce she was putting u--
That tone... Those eyes.
Few times in his life had Ikkaku witnessed Rangiku absolutely livid. In fact, in their time together he couldn’t place his finger on even one instance he’s been the recipient of such rage, much less to this degree. He’s seen her angry before, of course; difficult women like herself tended to show that whenever it struck, if they deemed it right. But for her to give him that piercing glare, practically spelling ‘don’t come near me’. So much for dating? --Hardly.
In all his own turmoil, it’s clear the bald man had disregarded where she came from. He thought them to be in the same standing following their talk last night, though that outburst to follow only proved him horribly wrong. Her putting him to mockery didn’t help one bit, as his own eyes flared wide in matching anger. “Excuse me!!?” He’d fire first off, without thinking; as a vein finally popped in the side of his head. It’s a miracle it wasn’t visible until now, actually! “Can’t admit--!! You’ve r--...”
Much as he wanted to retort back, his words were held at the back of his throat. He couldn’t utter them even in the heat of the moment, as a disturbing line came to mind. Is she right?
His lack of response at the meeting by itself was a good indication. A sharp inhale as he averted his eyes, looking down in some degree of shame. Head dropped. Through all they’ve been through -- breaking up and reconciling, him supporting her in getting over her own tragedies, and the impending fear in him learning she literally died during the Quincy War. They conquered through all those hardships, but if it was coming out to their peers, he couldn’t speak up? Some man he is. It was in finally getting that line through that thick skull of his, that he realized how he’d messed up.
Is he going to let this be the end of it then? He couldn’t measure up. He, couldn’t. And her words struck harder than--
-- “Rangiku.”
ABSOLUTELY UNACCEPTABLE.
He grabbed at her shoulders, as if to snap her (and himself) out of their current state. Calming himself, through mental effort very much reflected in his expression, he steeled himself as in a sweeping movement, his hands moved to the small of her back and the back of her head, holding her in a tight embrace. Close as possible, perhaps even a bit forceful. Whichever reaction she’d respond with - whether in shock, apathy or even physical rejection, he wouldn’t let go. Perhaps it was a tad late. But he was all too intent on delivering the message. He’s not letting her go a third time. “...It really bothered you that much, huh.” Funny how despite being a self-proclaimed poet, he doesn’t quite hit the mark right away.
There was a mountain of things he wanted to say. How grateful he was to have her by his side. How he looked up to her in these times as well. How even when she was being extremely annoying and getting him running all over Rukongai for a snack, he still couldn’t help but love her. How he loved her, more than she could guess... More than he’d put to words. But he couldn’t quite... Say any of that, right...? -- VULNERABILITY. And she was willing to take that step for them, while he was still acting wishy-washy about it in his head. “...You’re incredible.” This was Matsumoto Rangiku. This was just how much stronger she was, than what’s let on. Than him.
So then. How does he match that? He probably should have given her that other poem he’d been working on a month back. -- No no, considering how she is, that small act wouldn’t satisfy her at all. With her, it’s gotta be something extravagant, right? -- Oh yeah. Hands falling down after leaving her with those words, cheeks reddening as he brewed his answer in his head. Obvious as it was to him, the idea probably wouldn’t have been most’s, or even her own first choice. “So, let me try this again.” She deserved someone who’d be there for her. She deserved someone who’d stand by her.
“...I love you.”
Turning around, in one strong motion he pushed the doors open once again. Taking two steps outside as he steeled his mind. He loved her. True to himself, it was time to get back on track. Thankfully, he was quick to recover, even from emotional damage. Alright... Let’s do this. He took a deep inhale, practically feeling his face flare up. Eyes closed, his form visibly straightening in light of the air filling his lungs. He then cupped both hands around his mouth, and --
“YOU HEAR ME BASTARDS!!? I, MADARAME IKKAKU, AM IN LOVE WITH MATSUMOTO RANGIKU!!! HOW’S THAT!!!”
No taking any of it back now. Whatever happens, happens. To hell with the rookies that are definitely going to make fun of him. Screw Hisagi and his fantasies, Hitsugaya-taichou’s anger or having to deal with Nanao-fukutaicho’s annoying lectures. Fuck, all of that.
He finally exhaled. Surprisingly, there was still some air left in that chest of his! And even through the sunlight, if she looked close enough, she’d get a preview of the reddening hue progressively covering his face. I mean of course it would!! A screaming confession?? What is he, a teenager!? That’s seriously the best he could come up with! He might as well would have done this over the top of Sokyoku Hill to get everyone’s attention! ...Regardless, it’s now been made as clear as possible. He was in on this, just as much as she was. All it took was a bit of a mental knock!
“Me? Ashamed!?” He repeated, finally turning back. Visibly trying to fight the need to cower in embarrassment from that little stunt he pulled. “I would never be!!” He admitted, once again closing the gap between them. Obviously still riled up from potentially garnering a ton of teasing from practically everyone he knew, he focused only on the woman in-front of him. Only on his girlfriend. “You’re crazy strong. You’ve endured so much and you’re still here standing with me! You’re the most amazing woman I know!!” And that suits someone like him, just fine. She deserved someone to stand with her. And he deserved, well. Hopefully someone like her. “I can’t be any prouder than I am!”
There it is. His feelings, finally out in the open. They both knew, of course. Though in all the intensity of these past 24 hours, it just had to be let out again. Now obviously, this act by itself wouldn’t be enough. And yet, it’s nothing compared to what they’ve been through. Matsumoto Rangiku could go her way if she so wished. He made that clear before they started dating, too. But with how much he loved her, he wouldn’t let her be without a fight at this point.
Standing in-front of her once more, breathing a tad heavy from the mixture of embarrassment, hype and passion. Stealing a kiss from her here would be simply pushing it... But he was nothing if not persistent. Their lips briefly meeting as his long exhale spoke for his nerves calming down, literally soothed at merely touching her.
In short, his answer... “I love you, Rangiku.”
“More than you know.”
#rangikuxmatsumoto#Intoxicate Me Now {||} IkkaRan#long post so read more#*rests in peace*#AFTER THIS SHIT WAS DELETED THE FIRST TIME
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