3 Ichi-centric non-con drabbles
folder
Bleach › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,441
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Bleach › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,441
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Bleach, and I do not make any money from these writings.
3 Ichi-centric non-con drabbles
----
Ratings:
1. Nice
2. Not very nice
3. Fucked up
----
1.
“So, a hollow, a shinigami and a mod soul walk into a bar, right? God, I wish I had a punch-line to that joke. Something something you something.” Shinji’s wide grin grew even wider. He swirled the remains of his drink around in the glass before finishing it off.
“I’m not even allowed to be here, Hirako. I’m sixteen.”
The handsome vizard waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t be such a coward, Kurosaki-kun. It doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m not-”
“Here.” Shinji shoved the other drink standing on the table into Ichigo’s hand. “Have some. Tastes like soda.”
The teen glared at him.
“Oh, come on. Do you have any idea of how boring it is to just hang around here decade after decade? At least let me corrupt you for one night, let me have some fun. Take a swig. For me?” Shinji’s eyes were big and puppy-like, twinkling like stars in the dim light of the bar.
“No.” Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest and looked away.
“Please? Think of how cool you will seem to your dorks- …friends. To your friends.”
The teenager got to his feet. “I’m out of here.”
A vice grip on his wrist stopped him. He stared down at the willowy blonde.
“Sit down.” The twinkle in Shinji’s eyes was gone, replaced for a fleeting second by something harder and far more serious, before he rolled his eyes and was back to his usual annoying self. “I swear, Kurosaki, you’re such a fucking pain sometimes. I brought you here because we need to talk.”
“About what? And why here?” Ichigo was still standing up. His hand had started to tingle from the loss of circulation. “And let go already.” He slapped at the fist locked around his wrist.
“Sit your ass back down.” Shinji released his grip and leaned back, elegantly crossing one leg over the other, his arms coming to rest along the back of the seat.
The boy gave his tormentor a poisonous glare, but sat back down with a huff. “Answer my questions.”
“Don’t be so impatient, Kurosaki-kun,” Shinji chided in a sing-song voice. He took his drink back, downed half in one gulp and grimaced. “Why here, you say? Because I honestly believe you need to get drunk.”
“Why the fuck would I need to get drunk?”
The vizard sighed and put his drink down. “It seems like our friend Kisuke has gotten to know a certain mod soul better.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Felt a little sore lately? Maybe had to limp a little getting around? Had problem sitting down?”
Ichigo paled. “He wouldn’t.”
“Oh come on, Kurosaki, you know him better than that. Of course he would, if he set his mind on it.”
“Why are you telling me this, Shinji?”
“Because it’s highly immoral and I’m a very moral per-”
Ichigo lunged across the table and grabbed Shinji by the collar, pulling him out of his seat. “Cut the fucking crap! Why are you telling me this?”
The vizard didn’t even raise a brow. “Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a bunch. It’s because I’m rather angry with Kisuke at the moment and the fucker deserves it.”
“How did you find out?”
“Well, I sort of walked in on him and Kon going at it.”
“When?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“And you haven’t told me until now?!”
“I had no reason to. Now I do.”
“You asshole!”
“Am I really the one you should be angry with right now, Kurosaki-kun?”
Ichigo seethed, staring furiously at Shinji for a while before shoving him back into his seat and sitting back down. “That fucker!”
The vizard smirked. “See now why I told you to get drunk?”
“Gimme that.” Ichigo snatched the half-full glass from the table and, mimicking Shinji’s earlier actions, emptied it in one gulp.
“There’s a good boy.” Shinji reached across the table and patted the teen roughly on the shoulder as he sputtered and coughed.
“Shut…” Another cough and a visible shudder. “…up.”
“Want another?”
“Take a wild guess, Shinji.”
----
2.
Ichigo sunk down in the chair by his desk, planting his feet wide apart, one on the edge of the bed, the other on the floor. He snapped the lid of a small tube open and quickly coated three fingers with slippery gel.
Adding one finger at a time he slowly and methodically stretched and slicked his hole, preparing it thoroughly. When he was able to push the tip of a fourth finger in without any pain he deemed himself ready and threw the lube to the side.
He got up and slid onto his bed. A long piece of cloth was fastened to the headboard.
Ichigo was pissed, no - furious, he was frustrated, he was just so goddamn fucking tired of being so good all the time. He was tired of being Kurosaki Ichigo. In his chest waves of black the consistency of tar rolled, licking his ribs from the inside.
And so Ichigo grabbed the piece of cloth and slowly wrapped it around his wrist, tying it tightly. After trying the knot, pulling on his binds and finding it to his satisfaction the teen took a deep breath and reached out to his nightstand.
His hand clamped down on a small green pill resting there and before giving himself time for second thought he snatched it up and popped it into his mouth.
“Ichigo..?”
He didn’t bother with a reply, just unfastened the sword now resting on his back and let it drop to the floor with a clatter before kneeling on the bed, reaching up and tying his body’s other wrist tightly against the first with the remaining length of the cloth.
“Ichigo?!”
Ichigo got up again and started pulling his uniform off, his features hard and closed.
“Shut up and lay still, Kon. This might hurt.”
----
3.
Yes, this was it.
The redheaded shinigami beneath him was reduced to pathetic whimpers and grunts. A puddle of blood and humiliation. The hollow was close now, so close. He felt the burning knot in his groin tighten and throb.
It was going to be hard to go through with it. He wanted the release so badly. But he had to, there was no way he’d pass up on an opportunity like this.
The hollow thrust harder, bucked into the broken body laying sprawled on the dirty ground, every movement taking him an inch closer to the edge, and finally teetering there, wobbling, almost going over.
“Right. You take over from here, Ichigo.”
He released his grip on his body - Ichigo’s body - and felt himself falling, falling as if the sideways skyscrapers that were his home suddenly had turned upright with him standing on one of them.
The vicious throbbing from the near orgasm still pounded through him, in the back of his mind it continued, released, and he knew. The boy whose mind he resided was coming in his friend. The hollow had held on as long as he could, making sure there wasn’t going to be a way out, any way in which Ichigo could have stopped it.
No, he felt it. He heard the screams, the panicked ‘oh god no’s, as he fell and he felt the fear and rage and indescribable fucked up pleasure coursing through his king and it filled him with childish glee.
It started with a distorted giggle and soon he roared, howled with laughter knowing Ichigo would hear it ring in his head.
It would be ringing for a long fucking time, hopefully.
Ratings:
1. Nice
2. Not very nice
3. Fucked up
----
1.
“So, a hollow, a shinigami and a mod soul walk into a bar, right? God, I wish I had a punch-line to that joke. Something something you something.” Shinji’s wide grin grew even wider. He swirled the remains of his drink around in the glass before finishing it off.
“I’m not even allowed to be here, Hirako. I’m sixteen.”
The handsome vizard waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t be such a coward, Kurosaki-kun. It doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m not-”
“Here.” Shinji shoved the other drink standing on the table into Ichigo’s hand. “Have some. Tastes like soda.”
The teen glared at him.
“Oh, come on. Do you have any idea of how boring it is to just hang around here decade after decade? At least let me corrupt you for one night, let me have some fun. Take a swig. For me?” Shinji’s eyes were big and puppy-like, twinkling like stars in the dim light of the bar.
“No.” Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest and looked away.
“Please? Think of how cool you will seem to your dorks- …friends. To your friends.”
The teenager got to his feet. “I’m out of here.”
A vice grip on his wrist stopped him. He stared down at the willowy blonde.
“Sit down.” The twinkle in Shinji’s eyes was gone, replaced for a fleeting second by something harder and far more serious, before he rolled his eyes and was back to his usual annoying self. “I swear, Kurosaki, you’re such a fucking pain sometimes. I brought you here because we need to talk.”
“About what? And why here?” Ichigo was still standing up. His hand had started to tingle from the loss of circulation. “And let go already.” He slapped at the fist locked around his wrist.
“Sit your ass back down.” Shinji released his grip and leaned back, elegantly crossing one leg over the other, his arms coming to rest along the back of the seat.
The boy gave his tormentor a poisonous glare, but sat back down with a huff. “Answer my questions.”
“Don’t be so impatient, Kurosaki-kun,” Shinji chided in a sing-song voice. He took his drink back, downed half in one gulp and grimaced. “Why here, you say? Because I honestly believe you need to get drunk.”
“Why the fuck would I need to get drunk?”
The vizard sighed and put his drink down. “It seems like our friend Kisuke has gotten to know a certain mod soul better.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Felt a little sore lately? Maybe had to limp a little getting around? Had problem sitting down?”
Ichigo paled. “He wouldn’t.”
“Oh come on, Kurosaki, you know him better than that. Of course he would, if he set his mind on it.”
“Why are you telling me this, Shinji?”
“Because it’s highly immoral and I’m a very moral per-”
Ichigo lunged across the table and grabbed Shinji by the collar, pulling him out of his seat. “Cut the fucking crap! Why are you telling me this?”
The vizard didn’t even raise a brow. “Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a bunch. It’s because I’m rather angry with Kisuke at the moment and the fucker deserves it.”
“How did you find out?”
“Well, I sort of walked in on him and Kon going at it.”
“When?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“And you haven’t told me until now?!”
“I had no reason to. Now I do.”
“You asshole!”
“Am I really the one you should be angry with right now, Kurosaki-kun?”
Ichigo seethed, staring furiously at Shinji for a while before shoving him back into his seat and sitting back down. “That fucker!”
The vizard smirked. “See now why I told you to get drunk?”
“Gimme that.” Ichigo snatched the half-full glass from the table and, mimicking Shinji’s earlier actions, emptied it in one gulp.
“There’s a good boy.” Shinji reached across the table and patted the teen roughly on the shoulder as he sputtered and coughed.
“Shut…” Another cough and a visible shudder. “…up.”
“Want another?”
“Take a wild guess, Shinji.”
----
2.
Ichigo sunk down in the chair by his desk, planting his feet wide apart, one on the edge of the bed, the other on the floor. He snapped the lid of a small tube open and quickly coated three fingers with slippery gel.
Adding one finger at a time he slowly and methodically stretched and slicked his hole, preparing it thoroughly. When he was able to push the tip of a fourth finger in without any pain he deemed himself ready and threw the lube to the side.
He got up and slid onto his bed. A long piece of cloth was fastened to the headboard.
Ichigo was pissed, no - furious, he was frustrated, he was just so goddamn fucking tired of being so good all the time. He was tired of being Kurosaki Ichigo. In his chest waves of black the consistency of tar rolled, licking his ribs from the inside.
And so Ichigo grabbed the piece of cloth and slowly wrapped it around his wrist, tying it tightly. After trying the knot, pulling on his binds and finding it to his satisfaction the teen took a deep breath and reached out to his nightstand.
His hand clamped down on a small green pill resting there and before giving himself time for second thought he snatched it up and popped it into his mouth.
“Ichigo..?”
He didn’t bother with a reply, just unfastened the sword now resting on his back and let it drop to the floor with a clatter before kneeling on the bed, reaching up and tying his body’s other wrist tightly against the first with the remaining length of the cloth.
“Ichigo?!”
Ichigo got up again and started pulling his uniform off, his features hard and closed.
“Shut up and lay still, Kon. This might hurt.”
----
3.
Yes, this was it.
The redheaded shinigami beneath him was reduced to pathetic whimpers and grunts. A puddle of blood and humiliation. The hollow was close now, so close. He felt the burning knot in his groin tighten and throb.
It was going to be hard to go through with it. He wanted the release so badly. But he had to, there was no way he’d pass up on an opportunity like this.
The hollow thrust harder, bucked into the broken body laying sprawled on the dirty ground, every movement taking him an inch closer to the edge, and finally teetering there, wobbling, almost going over.
“Right. You take over from here, Ichigo.”
He released his grip on his body - Ichigo’s body - and felt himself falling, falling as if the sideways skyscrapers that were his home suddenly had turned upright with him standing on one of them.
The vicious throbbing from the near orgasm still pounded through him, in the back of his mind it continued, released, and he knew. The boy whose mind he resided was coming in his friend. The hollow had held on as long as he could, making sure there wasn’t going to be a way out, any way in which Ichigo could have stopped it.
No, he felt it. He heard the screams, the panicked ‘oh god no’s, as he fell and he felt the fear and rage and indescribable fucked up pleasure coursing through his king and it filled him with childish glee.
It started with a distorted giggle and soon he roared, howled with laughter knowing Ichigo would hear it ring in his head.
It would be ringing for a long fucking time, hopefully.