Dog Days Are Over
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Rukia has bad memories of seeing herself in white: being drained of her powers when she first transferred them to Ichigo and later when she was taken away by Nii-sama and Renji and made to answer for her crimes. The red collar slowly choking her hopes away, alone and resigned to her fate; standing before the Soukyoku, awaiting divine judgment.
And now- she is garbed in white once again but not as a prisoner, or someone to be made an example of or a pawn of a madman with dreams of grandeur; she is here as a bride.
Dressed in white lace and chiffon, the high-neck, full-sleeved bodice that clings to her front, her dark hair teased and curled, the dainty tiara that sits on her crown—
She swallows, fingers bunching at the soft material of the dress. Everything about the bridal ensemble is soft and delicate, like a daydream, fluffy bunnies- and she is suddenly unsure of where she stands because Rukia Kuchiki is anything but soft and delicate.
Rukia hardly recognizes the woman in the mirror.
The woman who turned in her simple black robes- the standard uniform for all Shinigami officers for something so frivolous and beautiful for the day; to stand out instead of blending in, to be the centre of attention instead of one of the nameless many.
She is not used to this.
She feels different. The soldier in her is up in arms, aghast at how utterly defenceless she is rendered. Look at how tightly cinched her waist is, how the restrictive skirt of the dress wouldn't allow her the same range of movement as her uniform, and her blade—
She feels so naked without the physical weight and presence of Shirayuki on her.
This is stupid!
She doesn't feel like a bride.
She should be so incandescently happy at the thought and she was up till the moment she saw herself in the mirror. All she feels now is the urge to run and hide. She feels like a fraud. Right now, she isn't even sure that she wants to walk down that aisle- awkward in her own skin that's suddenly stretched a little too thin over her.
Her hands are callused and she's been cut and maimed a thousand times over; her body a patchwork of scars, each one a story of their own. Just what sort of a bride is she?
Isn't this what she wanted?
Why did she say yes if only to regret it now?
Is she even making the right choice here or was it all just a mistake right from the start?
Can she love Ichigo just as fiercely as he loves her?
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Somewhere in the background, blind to her inner turmoil, are her bridesmaids- Karin and Yuzu chattering away about the flower arrangements- blue and white hydrangeas, peach roses in the midst, her wedding bouquet and something blue. Orihime on the other hand seems to be fussing about some last minute details on her wedding veil- Rukia's something new, a joint effort by Uryuu and Orihime as the couple painstakingly hand-stitched strawberry flowers at the hem- their own heartiest of congratulations and well wishes to the new couple.
She is barely aware to the sound of their excited chatter, still lost in her musings when she hears the loud knocking on the door.
"Who is it?" Yuzu's voice rings out pleasantly.
"It's me. Open up!"
The door is unlatched and swings open to reveal Ichigo- hair slicked and striking in his tux.
"Ichi-nii! What are you doing here?"
Karin is the first to react as she moves to stand protectively in front of Rukia with her arms folded, the disapproval deep in her frown.
"Don't you know that it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?"
Ichigo rubs at the back of his neck, voice uncharacteristically sheepish as he stands there, suitably chastised by his younger sister, "I know. I just wanted to know everything is ok."
Karin scoffs.
"Everything is fine. Why wouldn't they be? Besides, aren't you supposed to be making sure nothing goes wrong on your end?"
At his deepening scowl and stuttering response about how he left Uryuu in charge of things, Karin cuts him short, "Admit it, you just can't last a day without looking at Rukia-nee! Even on your wedding day, seriously Ichi-nii how mushy can you get?"
Ichigo's face burns hot and resolutely refuses to meet the gaze of the three other women in the room. Flustered by their giggles, he grouses, hands wringing, "I just— look, just give me a minute with Rukia!"
He gulps, "Please."
When Karin's face remains blank and unconvinced, he adds, "There's something I need to talk to her about, alone- before the wedding."
The dark-haired woman looks to her future sister-in-law and as the latter smiles and inclines to nod, gives a long suffering sigh before moving aside.
"Fine! But if you mess up Rukia-nee's makeup or start something in here, I'm telling! Byakuya is right down the hall."
Grudgingly herding her twin and Orihime out of the room, Karin gives her brother a pointed glare and a stern warning before exiting, shutting the door firmly behind her.
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"Hey."
"Hey yourself and for the record, my eyes are up here."
In comparison to Ichigo's almost bashful and tentative greeting, Rukia's is teasing, and when she sees the widening of his eyes, the nervous gulp as his eyes travel down the length of her body, couldn't resist putting on a little show, lifting the ends of her dress slightly, twirling in her gown.
The front is deceptively modest with the high neck and full sleeves, once she turns though; the plunging open back renders him a goner. His reaction is almost comical- the catch in his breath, the way his eyes zeroes in on the deep V dip and the expanse of pale skin leading to it.
He tenses, pink tongue darting to wet his lips and the weight of his stare- a little hungry, eyes more golden than brown, sinks into her. Power- she revels in the power and sway she has over him; it excites her to know that just the mere sight of her in something as simple as a dress can make him speechless like that.
"What do you think?"
Amber eyes finally connect with hers and the awe she sees in the depth of them, the sincerity behind his words when he tells her, "Y-You look beautiful."
Blush stains her cheek. She slides her hair out the way, suddenly shy; fingers brushing at the diamond teardrop earrings that Nii-sama had lent her- courtesy of a sister she never knew, her something old and something borrowed.
She smiles- a little wobbly and shaky but it is the first true smile she's had since this morning. He makes her feel beautiful and wanted. There is a woman underneath this battle-hardened warrior and her heart— it is her heart she realizes that, despite her best efforts remains soft. She is foolishly, stupidly weak for him and the way he makes her feel, the feelings that he evokes from her- it is humbling and far outweighs her insecurities and anxiety.
Maybe- just maybe happiness is real and attainable, that even a street-rat turned adopted noble turned Lieutenant of Thirteenth Division deserves a little break from the harshness of the world and simply indulge herself, to let herself be vulnerable and silly from the emotions running rampant within her.
And if she is torn between crying and laughing at the same time—her nerves at once both strangely relieved and tight-wound, she'll claim it's all Ichigo's doing. In his presence, she is only human and a woman in a wedding dress overwhelmed by her emotions.
She is getting married today!
To the love of her life- the man in her heart and there will never be words adequate enough to describe the depth of her feelings at this exact moment.
"Y-You said that there's something you wanted to tell me?"
"Come closer. It's a little embarrassing," he beckons to her and she thinks nothing of it as she makes her way forward.
He keeps urging her to get closer until she's a hairsbreadth away from him, close enough to reach out and touch him. Up close, the cut of the black tux- so formal and classic is undeniably flattering on him and the musky expensive scent of his cologne, she sighs.
He smells so good—
"Gotcha!"
His hand suddenly shoots out to snake along her waist, surprising her enough to make her yelp.
"Ichigo!"
He has her pressed tightly against him, strong arms cradling her and the warmth that he exudes and radiates- she bites her lips, he truly is the Sun, chasing away the chill of the unsavoury thoughts that haunt her. The roguish grin he is flashing at her is both endearing and annoying, as is the teasing drawl when he leans down to whisper.
"It's not like you to be so trusting and obliging. What's wrong, midget? You're not thinking about leaving me at the altar, are you?"
She thinks she hears a hint of nervousness behind his nonchalant laughter. The grip on her tightens when she doesn't answer immediately.
"I was… just a bit nervous," she opts for honesty, believing it to be the best policy, especially between them. At the narrowing of his eyes though, she is quick to add, "Not enough to leave you at the altar of course. I would never! I just needed a minute to myself."
Her admission lingers in the air between them until Ichigo breaks the heavy silence, responding with a loud scoff and a refusal to meet her eyes, "I knew it!"
She winces, craning to catch a glimpse of his expression. When she doesn't, the babbling comes unbidden and the words that come tumbling out are embarrassingly apologetic- the by-product of her awkwardness and shame—
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to upset you. I don't want to feel this way. I just don't think I'll be any good at this- at being your wife. I mean- Look at me! I can't cook, I can't- I'm not even pretty and the only thing I know how to do well is kill Hollows and is that really what you want? I mean- I really do lo—"
"Rukia!" he cuts her off, eyebrows knotted in disbelief, "Is that really how you feel?"
Her mouth clamps shut. She said too much and that made the both of them uncomfortable. She almost wishes that she could take it all back. At this rate, is the wedding even going to happen?
Ichigo's grip on her is snug, not tight enough to bruise but it is enough to jerk her away from her stream of thoughts as he tilts her chin up to meet his gaze.
"Listen to me! Rukia, I want you to listen and listen good because who gives a fuck on whether or not you can cook- I can! And I'll cook enough to make sure you'll never go hungry, I'll make enough to have leftovers that you can have for packed lunches every day! And you just find that miserable sod who dares to even think that you're not the most beautiful woman in the world- I'll give him a free eye check and send him over to the Fourth while I'm at it!"
She looks at him- stunned at the rush of words leaving him. Ichigo who is normally so scarce with his words, his anger on her behalf is palpable as he sets about trying to cheer her up.
"I didn't ask for a trophy wife to show off, or a wife to cook for me, or to coddle me or to mother me. I asked for someone to stand by me, to stand beside me, someone to hold her own in a fight especially when I'm out there facing Hollows and ugly looking cretins who think that they can mess with the people I care about."
His voice is gentle and more than a little choked when he swipes at the lone tear running down her cheek, ruining her mascara and carefully applied makeup.
"Y-You fool!"
She sniffs.
Ichigo shrugs, a hint of smile curling on his lips, "only ever for you, Rukia. I need you to know: you dry the rain, you whip me into shape and you make me happy and that is enough. No, that is more than enough and I am so lucky that you said yes. Do you have any idea how scared I was when you told me you're having second thoughts about this?"
"W-Why?"
He snorts.
"Midget, I love you to death but you can be so stupid sometimes. Are you really this dense? There's a list of guys out there who will gladly step up and take my place the minute I screw up and you come to your senses and realize that you could have done so much better than me. Don't you see? I'm the lucky one. And I love you-" a kiss to her eyelids, "I love you-" to the tip of her nose, making her giggle, "I love you."
Their lips meet, pressing so softly against each other.
"I love you too," she whispers, a watery smile that he mirrors when she meets his eyes, "I choose you too and I want to make you happy. I will try my best and I will never turn my back on you and—"
"And that's all I am asking for."
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He slants his lips to hers and this time there are tongues and more than a hint of teeth involved. There is heat in her touch when she winds her arms around his neck, the gasp he earns from her when he hitches her higher- his hand cupping her ass and her legs part to wrap around his waist.
Rukia kicks off her shoes, uncaring of where the pointy white stilettos land as his arousal and eagerness burns through their clothes and she is helpless against the press of his hands and fingers when they slip under the skirt to rub circles on her clothed sex.
His touch lingers at the ruffles of her lacy garter, tracing the edges of her garter belt teasingly; appreciative bemusement gleaming in his eyes as he fingers the hooks. There is a damp spot on her panties; the pool growing as he roughly pushes the flimsy strips of silk away to dip his fingers into her wet heat.
Her back hits the mirror on the dressing table, the back of her head cradled by his hand. His fingers curl and thrust and she reacts accordingly- moaning and digging her heels into his back, trying to draw him in deeper and keep him there for more.
She grinds against his fingers, a mewling neediness for him as she cards her fingers through his hair. His other hand comes to rest on her knee, his breath hot and needy against her ears as he whispers low and husky, telling her how lovely she is in white, how he's going to make sure the whole world knows she is his after today, coaxing her to spread her legs wider so he can fuck her better with his fingers and mouth.
To her at least, the logic is faultless- anything to accommodate him and the delicious feel of his fingers as they find her clit.
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The loud knocking on the door interrupts them. It's Karin's voice that rings out, waking Rukia from the lust-filled haze.
"Save it for the wedding night, you two! Ichi-nii, you have till the count of five or I'm telling!"
Ichigo pulls away, withdrawing his fingers reluctantly and a weaker woman would have whimpered at the loss. His forehead presses against hers, eyes boring deep.
Violet eyes are glassy and pupils blown, cheeks flushed and her dress creased. And when he trails a finger, still coated with her juices from earlier at her swollen lips, she reacts instinctively, taking the digit into her pretty mouth, sucking and licking it clean without prompting; releasing it with a loud pop as his eyes turn dark and a strangled groan leaves his mouth.
Her ruined makeup and the bulge in his pants are more than damning but he is more upset at not being able to make her come than the thought of being caught. Sweat plastered his bangs to his face as he huffs.
"You're going to be the death of me, midget."
She hums in reply, feeling impish as she sneaks a peck at his lips, liking how readily his cock jumps as she brushes her hand at his cheek.
He helps her to her feet, catching her in his arms when her feet wobble at the first few steps taken. They try to make themselves presentable, smoothing out the creases in their clothes, wiping and dabbing at the lipstick stains on Ichigo as well as Rukia's runny mascara. As a final touch, he fetches her discarded heels, kneeling as he got down on one knee to help her into them.
Outside, Karin's voice is sharp as she starts the countdown.
"Five!"
The added height has Rukia reaching for him easily, pulling him close as she kisses him on his lips.
"Four!"
He groans, hands kneading at her ass, "We should have just eloped instead. I can't wait to get you out of that dress."
"Three!"
She laughs and with a wry grin, presses a service tray to him, shielding his crotch from view as she calls out to her bridesmaids, "We're decent."
The girls march in with Karin in the lead, even Yuzu spares her older brother a pointed glare as the groom inches away, one step at a time, carefully shielding his front and avoiding the disapproving glances coming at him.
The doors shut with a click and the three women descend upon the bride, tutting and fussing at her all at once.
While Orihime is busy pining her hair back into a coiffure, Karin applies the coat of lipstick, exasperated fondness in her grumbles, "You animals can't even keep your hands off each other for one second, can you?"
Rukia bites her lips, hiding her smile.
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The music at the conductor's behest pours forth- sweet and lulling as she approaches.
Nii-sama is none-the-wiser as he leads her down the aisle.
Before her, there is a sea of familiar faces. The wedding guests on her side, smiling Hanataro, Sentaro and Kiyone, seated side by side and not bickering for once, women from the Shinigami Women's Association with Rangiku loudly cheering from the sides, Nanao who in vain tries to rein her in; Isane, quieter at the back, dabbing at her happy tears with a handkerchief.
Then on the other side, Ichigo's friends and families- some human: Tatsuki, Mizuiro and Keigo seated right behind her father-in-law who is uncharacteristically serious for once; others less so: the Arrancars with Grimmjow and Neliel in attendance, the former with fierce glare but kept in check somewhat by the dozen or more Shinigamis behind him; the Shiba clan proudly led by Kukaaku- resplendent in a formal kimono of burgundy red with golden trimmings at the hem. The woman grins and waves, conveniently forgetting her brother in her chokehold as the latter slowly but surely turns blue.
Rukia thinks about the people who should have been here- Kaien-dono, Ukitake-taichou, Hisana-nee-sama; and she hopes that she has grown into someone they can all be proud of and in this moment in time, they're all smiling and watching over her from wherever they are- happy for her.
The altar comes into view. There with her three bridesmaids in their peach-hued dresses, the best man- Chad, the groomsmen Uryuu and Renji and then, there's Ichigo.
Her Ichigo.
A silent conversation of sorts seems to pass between her brother and future husband by way of the subtle twitch of the hands and a heated glare and scowl from Ichigo. Ultimately, her brother concedes, as he presses her hand into Ichigo's, leaving to take his place among the guests.
The music draws to a close.
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Ichigo lifts the veil, a happy smile meeting her eyes. She grips his hand tight. In his eyes, she sees the promises of future, her past and present converging into something golden and bright.
There are many many ways this story could have gone; from her getting married to another man to him losing his will to fight and sinking into the mundanity. The possibilities are endless but Rukia likes to think that at this moment in time is where they are meant to be at, hand in hand, mirroring smiles and soft in the looks that they give to each other.
When the priest bids her to speak her vows, she does it with a willingness that takes her by surprise. She knows beyond a doubt, with every fiber of her being, looking deep into Ichigo's eyes—
Every breath, every hour has come to this.
"I do."
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Prompt: cheer up and festival
Throwing some not so subtle shade at WE DO KNOT ALWAYS LOVE YOU and this song bops. I mean- come on an IR wedding is practically a festival on its own right?
Also the flowers mean something- google if you are interested.
The IR fic support crew has been discussing songs that remind us of IR- Christina Perri's A Thousand Years is a fan favourite. Other suggestions?
Petition to make bonus week into NSFW week but not officially, not on Tumblr at least, because Tumblr is a meanie.