Disclaimer: I don't own the Bleach universe, and make no money from this story.

So, I was writing some of my HP fanfiction, but was in a really smutty mood, and couldn't really put smut anywhere in there. I moved onto a StarkxIchigo oneshot, but Stark and Ichigo kept wanting to have a plot, and I was like 'noes, get to the smex', and they refused, so I'm ignoring them, and wrote this, instead XD

Pairing: ShinjixIchigo

Warnings: Smut! Ichigo in girly knickers, rough sex, looots of foul language


"It's Shinji's birthday soon," Hiyori commented. Ichigo rolled his eyes and turned to face her.

"So that's what you've been stalking me for," he snapped. She had been following him all day in soul form, to school, around school, and from school. She'd distracted him in all his lessons and blatantly peered at him, Chad and Renji as they changed for PE. Renji had tried to shoo her away, and Chad had retreated into a toilet stall bashfully.

"I wasn't stalking you!" Hiyori denied just as crossly, arms folding over her chest. Ichigo snorted and turned away from her, beginning to walk home again. He'd sent the others on, getting the feeling Hiyori wanted him alone.

"So?" Hiyori asked, running up so that she could walk next to him, peering up at his scowling face. "Whatcha gonna do?"

"About what?" Ichigo asked, even though he already knew what Hiyori meant. He just chose to ignore it completely. Hiyori was always butting her creepy nose into his life.

"About Shinji's birthday!" she roared, and Ichigo, not expecting it, jumped a mile high in fright. Christ, for such a little girl she had a scary voice.

"Why would I care?" Ichigo roared right back, before picking up his pace, hoping to make it home and shake off the annoying brat with her annoying nosiness. Hiyori growled and matched him for pace. He could feel her eyes burning holes into him.

"You're fucking on a regular basis, of course you should care!" Ichigo tried, to no avail, to force down a blush. Girls Hiyori's age shouldn't be so blunt! Or use such foul language. Or be so cruel.

"We're not fucking!" Ichigo denied, even though he and Shinji did, in fact, have sex quite frequently. Ichigo refused to think of it as anything other than releasing tension from the situation with Aizen. They weren't in a relationship or anything.

"I might look like a kid, but I'm older than you!" Hiyori reminded. Why had she come to him only to argue? "I know exactly what's going on!"

"How could you?" The question was phrased harshly but, in actual fact, Ichigo was quite curious. They'd tried to keep it hidden, mostly using Urahara's basement on the pretence of 'training'. Urahara, of course, didn't buy it. Perverted old man.

"... Love told me," Hiyori admitted in an anti-climatic moment. Ichigo made a dissatisfied noise, no longer interested. "That doesn't make me a kid though!"

"Sure, sure," Ichigo agreed despondently. Hiyori growled again and, next thing Ichigo knew, he was being kicked in the head with a sandal and falling to the pavement. He managed to stop himself using his hands, and glared up at Hiyori.

Hiyori grinned, one hand digging into the pocket of her tracksuit. Ichigo watched curiously as her hand withdrew, holding something pink and silky.

"What is it?" Ichigo asked warily. Pink and silky? Sounded like a recipe for destruction.

"Shinji was drooling over this, said something about you before he remembered I was with him." Ichigo gaped at Hiyori. Shinji was such a pervert. "So I bought them, and now I'm giving them to you. It'd make his day to see you in them, I think."

"You gotta be kidding me!" Ichigo groaned as Hiyori dropped the item into his lap. Knickers. Bloody knickers!

"His birthday's in two days. You better fucking make him happy!" Hiyori stalked off as Ichigo hesitantly picked up the pink abomination.

"No! Take them back! Take them back!" he cried to Hiyori's back. Hiyori ignored him.


Guilt and depraved interest had niggled at Ichigo over the next couple of days until, finally, he gave in to his own consciousness. He could think of nothing else to get Shinji for his birthday, and didn't even have the money for a gift, anyway.

Hiyori better be fucking right about Shinji wanting this. If the blond burst out laughing the minute he saw Ichigo, Hiyori was going to die.

So that's what led to Ichigo standing in his bedroom, naked, with the curtains shut, the front door and his bedroom door locked, staring at the knickers innocently laid on his bed. His father had received a letter just that morning, courtesy of the Vizards, threatening the lives of him and his daughters unless he left town for the night.

Ishiin had promptly whisked the twins and himself out of town, leaving Ichigo to his own devices. Now Ichigo had no excuse. Shinji had called him in the afternoon to say he was coming over, although he'd made no mention of his birthday, which annoyed Ichigo – was the Vizard just never planning on telling him about his birthday?

Ichigo looked to his alarm clock. He only had ten minutes before Shinji arrived. His window was unlocked for Shinji to get through, and he just hoped no other Shinigami came a-calling.

"Fine," Ichigo grumbled, picking up the pants, pinched between two fingers as if it were a bomb. "Why the hell am I doing this?"

Because I feel something more for Shinji, his mind suggested, and Ichigo ruthlessly pushed that thought down.

Wincing as if in pain, he stepped into the knickers and slid them up his legs, until they were securely in place. It was a thong, flimsy as fuck and nearly see-through, the string that lodged uncomfortably between his cheeks connected to the main body with a pink bow, and the sides fastened with equally as ghastly bows.

It made his bits feel right uncomfortable.

Ichigo's head snapped up as he felt familiar reiatsu near the house. Shinji was early.

His curtains fluttered, and then were pulled aside as Shinji stepped through his window and onto his bed, eyes moving around the room until they settled on the frozen, standing Ichigo.

Shinji froze as well, eyes widening as they took in Ichigo's naked form, save the thong doing a poor job at hiding his cock. Ichigo flushed to the tips of his hair and crossed his arms over his chest defensively, looking away from Shinji.

"Ichigo," Shinji finally greeted in a strangled voice. Probably about to laugh. Ichigo knew he shouldn't have let Hiyori's words get to him!

"Erm," Ichigo started, and then just stopped, unable to function properly. Maybe he could run out of the room, into the bathroom, lock the door and never, ever come out again?

"Fuck, Ichigo," Shinji said, voice turned from strangled to deep, husky. Ichigo shuddered and looked back at Shinji, who had hopped off his bed, and was raking his eyes over Ichigo in clear appreciation. "Why?"

Ichigo cleared his throat uncomfortably, shifting his arms so that he was hiding his clothed dick from view. He saw Shinji's mouth twitch in a smirk.

"You know, your birthday... and Hiyori, and..." Ichigo trailed off, not wanting to say any more and look even more like a prat. Wow was he stupid. "Just, well, happy fucking birthday."

"This..." Shinji started, and then cut himself off with a shake of his head. Ichigo looked away again, dreading what that head shake meant. Oh God, Hiyori had lied to him, hadn't she? This was all some awful, awful prank!

He swallowed audibly when Shinji began moving closer, footsteps light and barely audible on the carpet covered floor. The closer Shinji drew, the harsher Ichigo's panicked breaths became, until he was barely breathing at all.

Shinji stopped when he was mere centimetres from Ichigo, and raised a hand, cupping the one Ichigo had covering himself. Ichigo gasped sharply as Shinji pressed Ichigo's hand down, against his cock. Shinji then tugged Ichigo's hand away, admiring the spectacular view.

"Best birthday present ever," Shinji murmured, and leant closer, pressing his lips to Ichigo's. Ichigo sighed in relief and melted into the kiss, not entirely certain why he'd wanted to please Shinji so much.

Shinji wrapped an arm around Ichigo's waist and pulled him snug against him. Ichigo groaned into the kiss as his stirring dick met Shinji's, and parted his lips. Shinji took advantage and plunged his tongue into Ichigo's mouth, ravaging it completely. Ichigo fisted a hand in Shinji's shirt, the other one tugging at his tie.

Shinji pulled away from the kiss to nibble at Ichigo's ear with his perfectly straight teeth, mouth curved into a lecherous grin. "Yer so sexy, Ichigo," he purred, and Ichigo moaned lowly, wrapping an arm around Shinji's back, their contact just not enough.

Shinji's hand on Ichigo's waist slid downwards as Ichigo began thrusting against him. He fondled the thong for a moment, erection growing at the hotness of Ichigo wearing such a thing, of someone so masculine looking so vulnerable. He slid the string of the thong aside, one finger running down the crack of Ichigo's arse, just shy of his pucker.

"Please," Ichigo gasped, voice harsh and demanding as he tugged Shinji's tie off and began on his buttons, pressing open mouthed kisses to Shinji's throat. Shinji grunted and gave in to Ichigo's plea, his fingertip brushing Ichigo's sensitive entrance.

Ichigo gasped and bucked against Shinji, rubbing like a dog in heat, cheeks flushing delightfully. Shinji licked one of the flushed cheeks, then his jaw, before nibbling his way down to his neck, as his fingertip toyed with Ichigo's asshole, not quite slipping inside.

"Quit playing, you bastard!" Ichigo growled. Shinji laughed at Ichigo's frustration – he loved toying with the Shinigami. As he pressed his finger into Ichigo's hole, his teeth sunk into Ichigo's neck, pulling the flesh out and sucking on it as hard as he could.

"Fuck," Ichigo gasped weakly, barely able to move from the sensations that were like a pleasurable kick in the gut. His fingers on Shinji's buttons grabbed onto his shirt, as if holding on for dear life. Shinji moaned deeply around the flesh in his mouth.

When Shinji decided he'd sucked enough to leave a satisfactory mark, he pulled his mouth away, admiring the burning pink, wet patch he'd left that was sure to bruise. He pulled his finger from Ichigo, much to the other's displeasure, grabbed Ichigo in his arms, and turned them around, throwing Ichigo onto his bed.

Shinji stared down at the flushed, panting Ichigo, as if contemplating what to do next. Ichigo glared at him in irritation, wondering why Shinji wasn't on the bed with him, fucking him or something.

"Spread yer legs," Shinji finally ordered. Ichigo frowned, feeling slightly embarrassed, but did as he was told. When Shinji took on that tone of voice, there was no disobeying without consequences. Sometimes, Ichigo found himself in the mood for these consequences.

When Ichigo had spread his legs, revealing the damp spot on the soft material of the thong, and the delectable pink strap of material against Ichigo's arse, Shinji issued his next order, eyes half lidded with burning desire.

"Touch yourself." Ichigo's breath hitched at the command. It was something new – Shinji usually relished in touching him, in Ichigo returning the favour. Nervous, Ichigo slid his hand down his stomach, fingers gliding underneath the pink knickers, anticipation building.

"Nuh-uh," Shinji said, wagging a finger. Ichigo stared at him, confused, fingertips moments away from his cock. "Take yer hand out." Ichigo groaned, not entirely certain he wanted to comply, but doing so nonetheless. "Touch yerself through yer pretty little panties."

Ichigo felt himself flushing further from embarrassment at the command, but hesitantly rested his hand on the noticeable bulge in his knickers, which were straining quite painfully against him. Shinji didn't say anything, so Ichigo continued, beginning to slowly rub his hand up and down.

"Fuck," he hissed. The feeling of that silk... it was amazing! Shinji's mouth spread into a slow smirk and he moved closer, riveted to the sight of Ichigo touching himself with such an innocent, naughty look plastered across his lustful face. Ichigo rubbed again, and again, his cock being taunted with that silky perfection.

"Faster," Shinji said, voice hoarse. Ichigo moaned in agreement, speeding up his hand, his other hand cupping his balls, which were hanging out of the skimpy underwear, squeezing and rolling them. Shinji let out a low growl which had Ichigo arching his back.

"Stop," Shinji finally said when he saw Ichigo getting more and more aroused. Ichigo, too lost in pleasure, didn't register the command. Shinji stalked closer, got on the bed and ripped Ichigo's hands away, forcing them up on the bed, over his head. Tendrils of spirit pressure leaked out of Shinji, wrapped around Ichigo's wrists and tied them to his bed.

"Shit," Ichigo murmured, tugging against the bonds, which didn't break. Shinji grinned. Ichigo didn't like being bound, he liked action, doing stuff, fighting, and Shinji loved seeing Ichigo bound, at his mercy.

"That's what yeh get for not obeying the master," he whispered into Ichigo's ear, before his tongue slid out, plunging into the appendage. Ichigo's breath came out in pants as Shinji ravaged his ear, body weight slowly putting more and more pressure on Ichigo until he was resting his full weight on the boy, knowing Ichigo could take it, wanted to take it.

One of Shinji's hands slid up Ichigo's chest, pinching a nipple between two fingers. Ichigo let out a quite unmanly squeak, jerking his hips up, against Shinji's. Shinji pressed back, rubbing his groin against Ichigo, while his fingers fondled the nipple, rubbing and pulling until it was swollen and hard.

"God, God. Shinji!" Ichigo cried out, losing that prudent reservation he carried with him every day. Shinji loved making the uptight Shinigami lose all morals, loved that only Shinji could make him this way, fucking begging for his cock.

"Oi, what did ya call me?" Shinji snapped, raising up onto his knees and hoisting Ichigo's legs up until they were on his shoulders. When Ichigo didn't answer immediately, too caught up in a haze, Shinji delivered a sharp smack to Ichigo's arse. "Well?"

"Sorry, Master!" Ichigo ground out, rubbing his arse against Shinji's hard cock. Shinji thrust forward instinctively, and Ichigo grinned.

"Yer gonna pay for that, pet," Shinji promised, raining another two smacks on Ichigo's ass. Ichigo panted and moaned, raising his bum for more. Such a kinky bastard, just like Shinji. They were fucking perfect for each other.

"Make me pay," Ichigo whispered, embarrassed by the words even as he moved back into Shinji's spanks. Shinji bared his teeth in a dangerous smile.

"Such a whore," he murmured, laughing when Ichigo's cock jerked, moving the pants, at the words. So eager.

Quickly deciding he could do with less clothes, Shinji untangled himself from a protesting Ichigo and stood, shucking out of his shirt and trousers. Ichigo watched, mesmerised by Shinji's strong muscles, broad shoulders. Shinji winked at him, pulling down his boxers, teasingly slow.

Ichigo's breath caught in his throat as he stared, transfixed. Finally, the boxers passed Shinji's cock, which leapt out gratefully, smacking against his stomach. Ichigo's hips arched into the air as his gaze fixed on that gorgeous, large, perfect dick.

"Ne, Ichigo, do you want this?" Shinji asked, thrusting his hips a bit to emphasise his point as he stepped out of the clothes puddled on the floor and moved back to the bed, crouching on it, between Ichigo's legs. Ichigo nodded frantically.

"Hoe much?" Shinji continued, rooting around in Ichigo's bedside drawer, drawing out some lube.

"So much," Ichigo choked out, staring into Shinji's droopy eyes. Shinji smirked, opening the bottle and squeezing some onto his hands.

"Good. Hope you're prepared," he said, slathering lube over his cock. Ichigo groaned and shifted impatiently. It wasn't the first time Shinji hadn't prepared him, and wouldn't be the last. Ichigo loved it rough, just like Shinji did, and Shinji always stole some medicine from Urahara to give to Ichigo afterwards.

Shinji quickly flipped Ichigo onto his front. He was definitely in the mood to take Ichigo from behind, like they were dogs in heat or something. Ichigo moaned, obviously agreeing with him.

Shinji pulled aside the string covering his prized treasure, Ichigo's asshole, and positioned his dripping erection at the entrance. Ichigo pushed back, delightful mewling whimpers spilling from his lips.

Shinji put a steadying hand on Ichigo's hips, and then, in one long thrust, plunged into his lover, stretching him as wide as possible, with no relief. Ichigo cried out, pain and fucking pleasure mixing as one.

Shinji stilled for a moment, draped across Ichigo's back, nibbling at his shoulder. He loved causing Ichigo pain, Ichigo loved receiving pain, but there was a line between pleasurable pain and far too much agony.

"Move," Ichigo grit out, impatiently clenching his channel. Shinji sighed despairingly at the harsh demand, but sat up on his knees anyway, pulling out and then pushing back into Ichigo in deep strokes. Ichigo gasped and arched his back, hands still bound to the headboard, arms twisted, position becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

"That's it, take it, you fucking bitch," Shinji hissed, both hands running up Ichigo's chest to roll his nipples between his fingertips. He could feel the thong string rubbing his cock and Ichigo's raw entrance, and it made him thrust his hips faster at the reminder of just what Ichigo was wearing, the depraved kid.

"Nn, Ichigo, ye're so sexy, so fucking gorgeous," Shinji told him, the words practically meaningless gasps spilling from his mouth onto the damp skin of Ichigo's neck.

"Shinji, fuck!" Ichigo growled out, thrusting back into Shinji, wanting him to go so much faster. "More!"

"What's the magic word?" Shinji asked teasingly, laughing. One hand trailed down Ichigo's chest, down his frantically moving stomach muscles, and to the soaking wet panties covering Ichigo's straining need.

"Wanker," Ichigo muttered, but it was desperate, strained. "Please?"

Ichigo had said the word so sweetly, so perfectly, that Shinji felt his arousal reach new peaks, cock swelling inside Ichigo. He began thrusting harder, faster, battering Ichigo's prostate with his dick, balls slapping against Ichigo's arse frantically.

His hand slipped inside Ichigo's underwear, cupping his neglected cock, drawing up and down slowly in comparison to his thrusts.

"Un, ah!" Ichigo grunted, not sure whether to move into the hand or onto Shinji's erection. Shinji squeezed his hand around Ichigo and then drew it up once more, very slowly. Ichigo saw stars as the coil inside his stomach completely snapped, and he found himself cumming, heavy streams of semen bursting from his cock and wetting the fabric around him even more.

"Fuck, yeah, Ichi!" Shinji practically yelled as Ichigo tightened around him impossibly further, squeezing his cock. Two more thrusts and he was there, cumming into Ichigo with abandon, growling out Ichigo's name animalistically and drawing shudders from his lover at the feel of the cum filling him up.

Ichigo groaned and sunk down onto the bed when Shinji rested his weight against his back, orgasm-induced high making him completely lifeless.

"Christ, Ichi," Shinji whispered reverently, almost a prayer. Ichigo nodded in agreement. That had been fantastic.

"We're definitely keeping these," Shinji announced, fiddling with the knickers. Cum seeped out of Ichigo's arse, wetting the stretched thong even further and trickling down his thighs. Ichigo turned to glare blearily at Shinji.

"Oh yeah? Well you can fucking wear them next time! My balls chafe."


Haha, oh, the smut. Just what I needed. I think that'll stop any writers frustration for a bit. Now, only a hectic schedule shall get in the way... Bollocks.

Hope you enjoyed! Read and review :D