A/N: This cracky wonder inspired by a mangacap posted on Tumblr, a cheeky anonymous message, PinkuNoOtaku's input, and my beta reader's encouraging text messages. You are all bad influences and I love you. Happy International Ichiruki Hentai Day!

Testily, Ichigo flung open the door to his room, then pulled it closed with meticulous care, not wanting his family to know how much it bothered him that Rukia was out with "friends." Unwittingly, he let out a frustrated groan. How long had it been since Rukia had come back from Soul Society? All he got was a speech about being in her heart and some crap about "arran-whatevers" and now what? Nothing since? She sleeps in his house and he never gets to see her?

Granted, it was sort of his fault, going off to train with the Vaizards without telling anyone where he was off to, he admitted to himself. But still! Would it kill her (again) to hang out with him? Berating himself for acting so clingy, he opened the flap to his bag, determined to study away his undue feelings. His grades had taken a nose-dive since the initial invasion of the new brand of hollows, and he needed to take his mind off things.

Once his homework was spread out over his desk, he sat heavily in the chair, half-spinning side to side in his seat. Where to begin? he mused. For a few moments, he glared menacingly at his homework. He eyed his Japanese homework warily. It really was his worst subject. His frown deepened. Defeated, he sat up, thumbing through his chemistry textbook. May as well start with the easy first.

It wasn't long before his mind began to drift. Idly, he bit gently onto the end of his pen and sighed wistfully. He turned toward his sliding closet doors, daydreaming about "the good ol' days." It was so simple back then, just the two of them; back when it was The Ichigo And Rukia Show. None of these politics or captains or archaic laws or Vasto Lordes. At least that summer they had settled into some sort of normalcy—as normal as your partner in killing giant, mutated souls of the dead living in your closet could get at least. But they had developed a rhythm together.

Sometimes he wished things had stayed the way they were. No arrest, no Soul Society, no rescue, no Aizen, no war—just the two of them together, fighting monsters.

Ichigo shook himself. Why was he being such a girl about everything? Removing the pen from between his teeth, he went back to his chemistry homework, groaning his dread for the Japanese assignment. Determined, he slapped both sides of his face. He was going to study if it killed him. He needed to maintain his good grades.

Once he had finished his chemistry, now writing out his Japanese essay with a sour expression, his mind wandered once more. He paused, gnawing on his pen again. What he would give for a hollow to appear right this instant: for Rukia to burst from his closet, beeping cell phone in hand, barking orders. Pulling on that glove of hers, her hand heavy on his chest and then passing through him, splitting his soul from his body. At once impossibly like fire and electricity, but lukewarm and comfortable. It was strangely comforting. It was different from the sensation that came from the end of Urahara's cane or the substitute shinigami badge, which was more like a poke and a tingle. Maybe it was the feel of her body going through him, the push of her against him, body becoming soul? Ichigo shivered. Was it weird to be so attached to that kind of feeling?

However, he didn't have time to ponder this because from that very closet came an odd sort of buzzing, and then a yelp. Jumping, he turned, his pen dropping from his lips. No, it wasn't a buzz, he realized. It was a...vibrating? Had Rukia set her hollow-tracker on vibrate? It was just like a regular phone, why wouldn't it have a vibrate setting? Had Rukia actually been in there all along, nostalgic and wanting a nap? He stood, confused. If it were a hollow, she'd be out here by now.

Concerned, he walked cautiously toward the closet. From inside, there issued a slew of muttered curses and oaths. She had quite a mouth on her, that was certain. The buzzing didn't stop, however, so Ichigo reached a tentative hand to his closet door. He slid it sideways.

"Rukia?" he asked hesitantly, then nearly fell back with shock.

For in her hands was a vibrating, pink dildo. It was...quite ornate, actually. Shaped like any normal phallus at the head, it became more grooved and textured as it progressed down its length to a base with varying buttons gauging intensity of the vibrations. Ichigo's mouth was suddenly very dry. From the side jutted a soft, also vibrating, protruding limb...shaped like a rabbit. Pointing ears and everything. Rukia was holding a dildo. A very pink dildo. With a rabbit-shaped appendage. A dildo that would have made a sexual deviant blush. And Rukia was holding it.

Ichigo had felt as if something had short-circuited in his brain, like a burst light bulb. Of course she'd have one with a bunny, he thought dryly, more exasperated than disturbed. Although, he was pretty damn disturbed.

Sitting innocently cross-legged, Rukia jumped at his intrusion. A flush on her cheeks, she desperately began pawing at the...device...in search of an off switch. "This infernal contraption!" she cried.

"Why... why do you have that? And why is it pink?" he demanded.

She looked up at him with big eyes. "S-stupid! Chizuru gave it to me...I don't know what it is!"

"You don't—" He slumped against the wall in defeat. She didn't know what it was. Of course she didn't know what it was. Why would she? She'd lived in Soul Society all her life; he seriously doubted they had much by way of sex toys. He looked back at her.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he snatched it from her hands, quickly finding the button to turn it off. "But why would she give this to you?"

Flustered and red in the face, her small chest heaving with humiliation and her eyes shining at him, Rukia rambled: "She knew that I like bunnies and said something about taking matters into my own hands and to not open it in front of anyone and I'm comfortable here and you were out and please tell me what it is."

Blood rushed from his head, taking his reason with it.

"Would you like me to show you?" he asked hoarsely, the sentence more of a sultry growl than an offer. Gingerly, he held up the vibrator.

"I..." There was trust in her eyes, but hesitation. "Wh-what are you going to do?"

"Just relax," he assured her, as he leaned in. With his free hand, he put his arm behind her back. She let him, and he propped her against the wall, her legs dangling over the piled futons.

Eyes wide, she watched him set the vibrator to low. She bit her lip. What she was anticipating, Ichigo didn't know, but he proceeded with caution. With a sensual slowness, he repositioned her legs, bending at the knees. She leaned back, shifting her hips. The air suddenly felt thick, the buzzing sound filling the room.

Her dress, a lovely purple color, slid up her thighs as she moved. Ichigo licked his lips. Where to begin was tricky. He didn't want to scare her, but he didn't want to bore her either.

He started on her right thigh, just above her knee, working it over her skin and up her leg. She gasped at the touch of the supple, jelly material. She did not stop him though, watching his eyes. Slowly, it made its way up her dress, over her hip. With his other hand, he tentatively pushed up the hem of her dress, up to her belly button. Again, she did not protest. His eyes constantly flickered from what he was doing to her face, waiting for her to stop him. She didn't, only returned his gaze, her breathing deep and measured.

He moved the dildo up, over her hips toward her belly. With his empty hand, he massaged her side, sliding her dress further up, past her shoulders. He held her waist, hooking his fingers beneath the side of her bra. Her legs spread of their own volition. He leaned closer, moving the vibrating thing between her legs, running it along her inner thigh.

Blushing, she muttered, "Idiot."

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, worried.

Now, she refused to return his stare, averting her eyes. "No," she said softly.

To no avail, he attempted to suppress his smile. To no avail, she attempted to suppress her moan, closing her eyes against the sensation. Open handed, she hit his forearm weakly, then gripped his arm, the one on her body. She just needed to grasp something.

"What," she asked between heaving breaths, eyes half-closed, "is the purpose...of this contraption?"

"Stress relief?" he supplied, a pert smile on his face, despite his sweaty hands and raging hard on.

He slipped it over the hemline of her panties, then even further...She gasped as it was shifted over her crotch. She soaked through her panties.

Her voice higher than usual: "So it's a massage device?"

"Something like that."

For a moment, he turned it off, then set down the vibrator, inhibiting a soft whine from Rukia. He hooked his thumbs under her panties, pulling them down her legs to her ankles. It slipped off of one foot, and dangled there by one leg. He paused, gazing in wonder at her sex, then retrieved the dildo again. He looked her in the eyes, an unspoken question in that stare.

She nodded.

Carefully, he touched the head to her sex, rubbing lightly over her vulva and clit, teasing her. She moaned lightly, and he knew she was holding back. Up and down and around her labia, he rubbed smoothly over the slickness, her head lolling in response. He pulled away, reestablishing his sweaty grip on the device, then held it to her opening. He looked to her again. A ferocity shone in her eyes. She was ready.

"Ichigo," she murmured, pleaded, her voice hoarse.

He nodded, turning back to the task at hand. Slowly, it slid in a bit, then he'd pull it out a little, then in further. Working its way in. As if a point of pride, Rukia remained silent, biting her lip until it was fully in and the bunny ears touched her clit. She yelped, a little too loudly. Concern dominated Ichigo's features as he paused and looked up at Rukia. "Is it bad?" he asked. "Does it hurt?"

"N-no, it...it's good, I just..."

Understanding, and remembering that his family was still in the house, he suggested, "Bite your dress." Reaching up, he handed her a section of the cloth she was half-wearing, gently putting it past her lips. His fingers lingered in her hot mouth, her tongue flicking over them. Lightly, she bit down on the dress, his fingers slowly dragging between her teeth as he pulled them out.

"Shit," he muttered, his brain malfunctioning, his pants worse for wear.

He leaned forward, his hand splayed behind her back, holding her up as he moved the dildo in and out of her. It was slow and sensual at first, her body moving with the thing inside her. Then the rhythm picked up, their breathing growing heavier and heavier. Rukia gnawed desperately at the cloth in her mouth, trying her best to keep quiet but whimpering through gritted teeth. Fuck, just watching her was almost too much for Ichigo, who groaned gutturally in response to each sound of pleasure she made.

"Let's see if we can...up the stakes a bit, huh?" he suggested, setting the vibration to a higher setting.

Unbridled from the shock, she let out a cry of ecstasy. Her head rolled back, the dress falling in a wet wad from her mouth. Quietly, he hushed her with a finger to his lips and a soft, "Shh." She nodded, biting her lip. He slowed his rhythm, idly glancing at the device in his hand.

Then he noticed a setting. "It...it rotates," he stated, dumbfounded, staring down at the operations.

"It rota—?" but he answered her unfinished question by enabling the feature. The muscles of her vaginal walls clenched and unclenched around the gyrating device, and she felt dizzy with pleasure.

In, out, in and out, it went. Sometimes rhythmically, sometimes sporadic. She reveled in the surprises and unexpected feelings shooting through her body. It rose, welled up within her, starting in the pit of her stomach then branching through her body. Everywhere at once. Unwarranted tears filled her eyes, the pleasure intensifying and overwhelming. Again, out of concern for her, Ichigo paused, causing her to whimper slightly. "Should I stop?" he asked. He didn't want to hurt her, and she was so small.

"God, no," she rasped, forgetting her pride. A small part of her wondered if he was teasing her on purpose or genuinely worried. However, she ignored it, giving in to him.

She was close, he could tell by the flutter of her eyelids, her tightened grip on his arm. Ichigo wanted to say something, anything, but only her name fell past his lips in a sensual growl. In anticipation, her cries grew louder. His hand on her torso clenched; he was close too.

With a rush, Ichigo dealt one final thrust, the rabbit ears colliding sweetly with her clit, sending her over the edge. She gasped, and let the orgasm take her, clamping her hands over her mouth so she wouldn't scream. It was extraordinary. There was no way Ichigo could hold back now; just as she came, so did he. His muscles shuddering, he felt that he should have been embarrassed. She hadn't even touched him and this had happened. But he didn't mind so much, giving into the sensation, and letting exhaustion set into his very bones.

Pressing the button to turn it off, Ichigo pulled the vibrator out of her, then slumped against the wall, breathing hard. Her eyelids heavy, lips parted, Rukia stared at him, who shifted uncomfortably, wary of her look. There was a small bout of silence, as they caught their respective breaths.

Pulling her dress down to cover her body again, she sat up. She felt comfortably warm and ridiculously playful. Sizing Ichigo up, an idea sparked in her mind, so she voiced it: "Next time, together, we could..." She didn't finish her sentence, but her eyes drifted pointedly to the front of his pants.

He turned to her, smirking cheekily. "Next time?" he asked.

"Yeah," she coyly replied, pulling him into a kiss. "Next time."

A/N: I kid you not, The Rabbit Vibrator is a real thing. Look it up. I dare you.