Disclaimer: If I owned BLEACH Shiro really would be part liger. But I don't so…everyone go and worship Kubo-sensei…he's the genius!
TO: BONNENUIT, I WROTE THIS FOR YOU!
Warnings: Canon/AU combo, plot holes (it wasn't intended but sometimes these things just happen) crack, cliché, non-crack, non-cliché. Spelling, grammar, punctuation, language, mountain of dialogue, break scenes, switching views, a warped spin on shinigami, human and every other type of living, past lives, reincarnations, brief mentioning of death, implied violence, implied pairings, both one-sided and not. And oh so freakin' much more!
Characters: Ichigo, Shiro, Starrk, Grimmjow, Ikkaku, Yumichika, Kenpachi, Yachiru, Renji, Rukia, Zan, Aizen, Byakuya, Matsumoto, others.
Official Pairings: KenpachixIchigo, IkkakuxYumichika, RukiaxRenji, brief mentioning of others.
One sided pairings: ShiroxIchigo, GrimmjowxIchigo, StarrkxIchigo (to a lesser degree) MatsumotoxKenpachi (meant to amuse more than anything, StarrkxYumichika (also meant to amuse) AizenxIchigo (because the "good" taichou can) RenjixIchigo (loosely implied)
Separate category as in not quite official or one-sided. Rather somewhere in between: ByakuyaxIchigo
Summary: Yumichika and Ikkaku want to get their favorite taichou something nice for his "35th" birthday—what better gift is there to give than a cute Ryoka boy from the human world?
A/N I'll admit I'm a little surprised that this story has been so enjoyable to a lot of you. Here's the final part. Thanks much for your R and R
For reasons he couldn't really explain, he felt the need, an urge to head on over to the Kuchiki estate.
Something told him that by going there, he would be led to his intended.
There was no real harm in mock mounting.
It was merely a way to humiliate the cocky brat.
He wanted to make something perfectly clear.
He was 100 percent MALE
(Ikkaku and Yumichika)
"So what you're saying is—
"I let him know about our plan, yes."
"So where is he?"
"I'm not sure. I think he ran off to vent somewhere."
"Okay so are we going to go after him or—
"I'm thinking we should just let taichou find him."
"But then we won't have a gift to give him on his actual birthday."
Ikkaku listen to me carefully, we let taichou catch Ichigo-kun but that doesn't me we'll let him HAVE him."
"You do realize we're going to get a major ass kicking for this one, don't you?"
"Please do not use such ugly profanity, Ikkaku."
Once again we find our two guardians trying to sniff out and hunt down the big baddies who dared to touch their Ichigo.
"The bastard is hiding somewhere, I just know it."
"He probably is but something tells me that even if he weren't, getting anywhere near him would be next to impossible."
Byakuya was attractive—very attractive.
Ichigo had started to like this little dry humping session a little—a little too much.
But there was some small voice nagging at him in the back of his mind—a voice telling him that this was all wrong.
So he told the man (Byakuya) to get the fuck off!
Only he hadn't sounded very convincing at all.
Rather he had sounded breathy, lustful, lost in the haze of mock rutting.
Then out of nowhere ..
Energy, an insane amount of energy, a brilliant almost blinding gold color (brought to mind the old foreign fairy tale about the girl, the leprechaun and the spinning the straw into gold) -The sheer intensity of it, the power, the raw ness, the heat.
Somehow a perfect compliment to Ichigo's own erratic energy.
He recognized it, vaguely. He had experienced a flicker of it once before.
"So I am."
Any particular reason?"
"King is in good hands," A smirk "Or rather, he will be."
"He—argg fuck me!"
"Told you this would happen."
"Yeah, yeah," a sigh "So what now?"
"Well I suppose we should start making the preparations for the ceremony."
"Wait—isn't it too soon?"
"Nah, King needs this, he's too uptight."
"Hmph, I still don't like it."
"There, there pussy-cat we still have each other."
"Ugh, I'd rather rip my claws out."
"That can be arranged."
"Shiro, Grimm enough!"
"He started it!"
Starrk sighed. Funny how he was the most level headed and mature out of their trio and yet Shiro was technically the oldest.
Screw the steps!
There was no way in hell he was going to wait anymore.
He saw no reason to since the orange haired boy was already shamelessly offering his ass up to the 6th division taichou.
Granted both of them were still fully clothed but there was no mistaking a scene like the one currently being played out before his eyes (Yes eyes, he opted to leave the patch behind for once)
Probably not the wisest thing to do but—
Damn what an ass!
How dare the spoiled prince try to take what was rightfully his.
THAT ASS WAS HIS!
He didn't appreciate being lifted up and swung over the man's shoulder, dangling upside down like a sac of potatoes.
Apparently Byakuya had come to his senses or something because he made no sound of protest—rather the noble man just turned around and walked away.
/'Bastard if I ever see him again I'll kick his ass!'/
Through the trees, deep down into the recesses of the forest—blood rushing to his head, making him dizzy, ill. He pounded on the broad muscular back, screamed until his lungs went hoarse.
Gnawing was one thing— having the man practically rip his lips off—he damn sure didn't appreciate that!
When Beasts Attack!
This particular beast was one of unconventional beauty.
Although beauty probably wasn't the proper word to use when describing Kenpachi.
Hot, sexy, devilish, ultra-MANLY.
Yes those words were better suited for this beast.
The scars adorning the man's face gave him character, edge.
The eyes, tiny black pupils, reminding Ichigo of the old-fashioned ink his mother had loved to use when she wrote love sonnets.
The nose, (perhaps some where down the mans' bloodline there was a trace of Greek or Russian. Whatever it was—it just fit.
Much like the lips, which had nearly devoured him, only seconds ago, thin, color like grainy sand mixing with blood.
The standard shinigami attire did nothing to hide that extremely well muscled body.
Ichigo did not appreciate the man ripping his borrowed clothing—Yumichika would have a fit!
He did not expect the man's hands, (ruff and confident) to feel so damn good on his now exposed backside.
Not quite how Ichigo had pictured his first time to be but—
A bright purple mist suddenly appeared out of nowhere, filling the air…
(Shiro/Old Man Yama/Starrk)
"Poison! What the Fuck gives ya the right to poison King?"
"Relax young liger, it was only a small dosage, nothing fatal."
"Listen here you stupid ole' geezer I don't give a fuckin' damn about this place or ya. I only care about King," golden eyes narrowed to thin slits "A snap, a simple snap of fingers and I can end your precious Soul Society."
"Shiro, calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down, go make yourself useful for once and go watch King."
"Grimmjow is watching Ichigo."
"That's not good enough, ya stupid coyote!" Shiro snarled viciously at the lazy eyed guardian.
REAL MEN DAMN SURE DO NOT CRY!
"Don't cry taichou, Ichigo-kun will be just fine."
A grunt "Who the hell is crying?"
"There is nothing wrong with shedding a few tears, taichou."
"Yeah take this idiot for example—
"He cries all the time."
A snort "That's like comparing an ape to a serpent, completely different species, completely different personalities."
"Serpents are beautiful, apes are ugly."
(Ichigo and Grimmjow)
"So what you're saying is that this whole journey to Soul Society was actually predestined?"
"That's the basics, yeah."
Ichigo fell back onto his pillow and let out a groan. "Why do these things always happen to me?"
"Believe me brat if I knew the answer to that one, I would gladly share it."
"I mean a contract? Written, signed and made into a law? Why the hell would goat face go through such lengths to—
"It wasn't all his doing, the higher powers, they have the final say in everything."
"Gods, goddesses, that sort of thing you know."
"No actually I was under the impression that gods and goddesses were nothing more than a myth."
"Everything and everyone stems from some type of truth, brat."
A sigh "What do you think I should do?"
"Don't look so shocked Grimmjow, you know I value your opinion."
"Really?" (If Grimmjow were in his animal form right now, his tail would surely be wagging) Voice light and teasing, "That the only thing you value about me?"
"Stop! Okay we are so not going down the road."
A lecherous grin "Oh but Ichigo we'd have so much fun if we went down that road, you know we would."
"Grimm I—argg why do you always do this?"
"Do what brat?"
"This-this coming on to me thing?"
"It's all part of the guardian package I guess."
"No it's different. I can feel it."
"Don't know what your talking about brat, think you mighta inhaled more of that poison than we originally thought."
"Bullshit! I know there is uh something—
"Yeah well even if there was, it doesn't matter."
"The hell it doesn't!"
"No it doesn't matter and it fuckin kills me that I—
"Look brat forget it, just be happy okay?"
"Who said I wasn't happy?"
"You're not," an honest grin "But you will be."
"Are we going back into the whole destiny thing again?"
"Yep," a smirk "And you brat, are destined to be the bride to a beast."
"What the hell? Why does everyone refer to me as a bride? I'm not a damn chick, I'm just as much of a man as he is!"
A chuckle "I'll be sure to tell him that when I give him my personal blessing, brat."
"Ken-chan, Ken-chan guess what?"
"It's almost cake time. Are you excited?"
"Ken-chan what's wrong?"
Another grunt. "Nothing."
"Nuh-uh some thing is wrong, you're not wearing your hair ornaments today—it looks all droopy."
A third grunt.
"I know what you need Ken-chan," a wide grin "A makeover!"
Kenpachi made no sound of protest. There was no point.
Yachiru's makeovers were harmless—well for the most part.
(Ichigo and the guardians)
"King hurry up and come out already, it's almost time for the big ceremony."
"Fuck off! I'm not coming out."
"Oh come on Ichigo, its not that bad. Rukia-chan assured us that what you're wearing is perfectly normal for a bridal ceremony."
"I'm not a fucking bride!"
(Whispering conversation between the three guardians.)
"So what gown did you and Rukia-chan select?"
"There's no gown."
"Really then what did you pick?"
The liger leaned over and whispered in the coyote's ear.
Shiro cackled madly. "Hey it's not like the groom hasn't seen his bride nearly naked before."
"Shit. No wonder he's refusing to come out."
"Uh Shiro you do realize just how many shinigami are to attend this ceremony don't you?" Starrk sounded quite panicked.
Shiro continued cackling and then added, "Only a select few will be able to see what King is really wearing (Rukia, the groom and us) To everyone else, it will just look like the standard wedding kimono."
"I sure did."
"Wakey, wakey Ken-chan."
"Come on, come on its time!"
"I don't feel like going anywhere."
The door banged open.
"I really do think it would be best for you to listen to the child, Zaraki-taichou."
"As soon as the groom gets here, we can start the ceremony."
This was ridiculous. All of it.
So Ichigo was destined to mate a sexy beast.
And the guy just happened to be celebrating his birthday on the same day.
He didn't need to wear some extravagant kimono, loud gaudy jewelry and a stupid crown on his head in order to show the man he belonged to him.
Kenpachi already knew.
Ichigo had made damn sure of it.
"Hurry up Ken-chan!'
"If you want cake, don't let me stop you. Go on ahead, Yachiru."
The pink haired pixie ran until she was out of sight.
That's one down—now he just had to get rid of..
"She's quite energetic isn't she?"
Why did he suddenly feel the urge to punch Aizen in the face?
Break his nose?
Make him bleed?
Rip out the smooth perfectly coifed hair from the man's scalp?
Grip the man's neck and just squeeze?
Squeeze until the man turned blue?
Oh yeah that's right –
It was all coming back to him now
He had received the information, courtesy of that lazy-eyed spirit guardian.
Aizen had drugged Ichigo.
Drugged and played with Ichigo.
Without the boy's consent.
Without a care for consequences.
For that was right—this man walking at his side—although a great deal shorter than Kenpachi—Aizen was not a weakling—the man believed himself to be above the rules, above consequences, above everyone and everything.
In order to attack Aizen Sousuke, one had to be stealthy, quick, ready for a counter attack.
Ready to risk it all.
The slightest hesitation, a minor slip up, a micro inch of leaving himself open for attack—that would be Kenpachi's end.
It was just too damn overrated!
Kenpachi lifted his eye path and swung his blade
The old man clearly did not understand anything about true love.
He was too busy smacking all of the bad misbehaving "boys and girls" with his cane.
Too busy picking his nose hair and scratching his equally hairy behind.
If old man Yama did understand true love he would see and understand the reason for love trials.
Perhaps if he wasn't so damn stubborn and stuck in his ways.
If he had only taken the time to sit down and listen to the gypsy (the humans called her)
Yes it all started with her.
A dark-haired woman with bronze toned skin and olive colored eyes.
She was the one who had helped finalize the contract with the higher powers.
The one who had predicted all of those unfortunate deaths in chronological order.
The one who had known that, he, Aizen Sousuke, would lead the 5th division toward greatness.
The one who knew when the man with the bells would appear.
She was the one who knew that on the man's ("35th birthday-in human years") two subordinates from the 11th division would set out and find the Ryoka boy.
Knew that the Ryoka boy would appear. Knew that he would not be alone.
Ah yes the crazy gypsy (who truthfully hadn't been all that crazy) had know all about the spirit guardians.
She had known everything.
But very few had listened to her.
Aizen, himself, had listened.
And then he set out and played his part.
As the villain.
And he enjoyed every minute of it.
The boy was delicious—just as the gypsy had predicted—just as Aizen had known.
The temptation to claim the Ryoka boy had nearly gotten to him.
But Aizen was no fool.
Not even he, a man who feared very little in life, would meddle with the higher powers.
Or rather-he wouldn't meddle much.
Ah humans and shinigami alike, so completely and utterly predictable.
Acting without thinking.
Letting love, jealousy, hatred, cloud their minds.
Left themselves wide open for attack.
Ichigo ignored the protests of "Stop!" and "Wait!" and just left the celebration.
"You know where I come from, if the husband leaves the bride standing at the alter it's con-Ken-Kenpachi!"
Blood. Blood. Too much blood.
Out from the shadows, looking positively evil, stepped the taichou from the 5th division, a small smirk on his face.
Fighting Aizen certainly hadn't been planned. But then again coming out here, with the intention to lecture the groom on punctuality only to find said "groom" bleeding out from every pore, well things changed.
Driven by fear, anger and a myriad of other emotions, body moving before his mind had fully registered everything—Ichigo had charged!
He felt a bit miffed.
Why had Ichigo conveniently forgotten to tell him that he could fight?
On par with one of the strongest men in Soul Society.
Okay so granted it was only an illusion—a powerful illusion and he was actually quite impressed with how real it looked—but still, he felt irritated.
What kind of idiot hides that kind of strength?
Still—wow his "dead body" did look quite realistic, the way the blood was just the right shade—
Ichigo was going all out
Behind the slightly crazed burning rage, there were tears.
Tears barely being suppressed—prickling at the corners of those pretty cinnamon and coffee brown eyes.
Kenpachi felt his heart clench.
He hated to see Ichigo looking so damn sad.
He suddenly felt the urge to beat the shit out of Aizen again—the only thing holding him back was the story that Aizen had told him just moments before the orange youth had showed up on the scene.
Far from ordinary.
Ah how he did hope the lovely Ryoka boy would stick around long after he was mated to the wild man with bells.
There was so much potential.
The boy could do great things.
And in time he'd make an excellent taichou.
Aizen would normally never dream of grouping him self and the word "giddy" in the same sentence, but yes right now he felt pretty damn giddy!
Damn he wished the guardians had stayed away for a little while longer.
There was no longer a reason to drag this out.
And so with barely a blink, he ended the illusion and disappeared before one could utter
(Ichigo and Co)
"Poor brat. He's actually sobbing. He needs to open his eyes and realize—
"Wake the fuck up King!"
Love. They had not yet reached that level yet. It was too soon. Hell he'd only been here for what a week? Maybe more? Not to mention he was only 17 years old for fucks sake!
The potential was there.
Or rather it had been.
It's kind of impossible to grow to love someone when they are dead.
"Shiro you bas—Kenpachi!"
He could hear Shiro cackling madly "I don't think I've ever seen you look so positively uke-ish King."
Quite predictably, the orange haired youth turned a fine crimson color.
Which only made Shiro cackle louder.
Grimmjow and Starrk weren't much help. They were too busy rolling on the floor and clutching their bellies with laughter.
"You guys suck! When we get back home I'm telling Karin to lock all of you in the cage!"
Almost instantly the guardian trio fell silent.
Color slowly returning to normal, Ichigo smirked and then fell into Kenpachi's arms and passed out.
When Ichigo regained consciousness it was not Kenpachi's or even one of his guardian's faces to greet him-rather it was—
A gigantic set of boobs barely being constricted in their tiny black bikini top.
"Aren't you just the cutest little Ryoka I've ever laid my eyes on."
The owner of the gigantic boobs had a voice. A squeaky high pitched voice.
The boob woman now known as Matsumoto jumped and Ichigo found that he could breathe quite normally again.
He sat up.
And took in his surroundings.
Pink. Lots and Lots of Pink.
The Shinigami in Soul Society were either seriously sexually deprived individuals or just enjoyed teasing a traveler like him.
Well at least he hadn't been drugged this time but still-
"But taiiichou I wanna stay with the cute little Ryoka. I promise I'll finish my rounds just as soon as-
It was almost comical how such a shrimp could sound so intimidating.
Even more amusing how the shrimp was now dragging the squeaky boob woman out of the room as though she was no lighter than a feather.
"Ichi, Ichi what are you doin' silly. You're gonna miss Ken-chan's cake-time."
Another voice. One that Ichigo did not recognize.
The owner of said voice jumped on his back "Horsey, give Yachiru a horsey ride to Ken-chan's cake-time."
Small hands pinched his cheek. A small child then.
Ichigo never could ignore a child.
"Let's go Ichi, let's go!"
Kenpachi didn't care about cake. Ichigo quickly found that out.
The only thing the man cared about was…
"I haven't had a decent battle in ages. Prepare yourself Ichigo!"
It was almost romantic in away when the beast gave the berry a running start…
48 hours and 5 training sessions later…
Kenpachi had never thought that there was anything particularly fascinating about a person who slept.
Key word is had-as in past tense.
Since Ichigo was really quite interesting while he slept.
The way he sprawled his lithe, well toned naked body over the couch.
It was almost artistic.
Hm. Edible art.
Yes he would savor it slowly.
Now normally slow was not part of Kenpachi's vocabulary.
It was a different story when it came to meat.
And right now the most perfect piece of meat was laid out right in front of him.
No scratch that, not just meat but an entire feast!
And it was all his.
Start at the bottom, work his way up!
Toes, not quite dainty but small for a male, clean, soft, smelled like powder.
Touching it with his hands simply was not enough. He had to press his tongue into the natural arch of the foot, slide it between each and every toe, start a nice wet trail—no nibbling yet—that would come—all in good time.
Ankles. Okay so he kind of always had an ankle fetish. And it was most likely the lust talking but the orange haired youth had some delicious looking ankles. He nibbled on one and it made him think of lamb.
A perfectly cooked piece of lamb. He nibbled a bit more, switching back and forth between each ankle—and then he continued on upward.
Calves, hairless, soft and strong like a bull. He grinned. Yes he would savor the feeling of having these strong calves wrap around him when the time came.
Knees, not bulging or sharply angled but soft, smooth and toned. Perfect.
Thighs—he couldn't hold back, didn't want to—nibbling is not enough, licking is not enough, no he had to give these tasty looking thighs a REAL BITE!
Leave the first of many marks—his official claim over the orange haired youth.
Ichigo either had incredible control over his body, a high tolerance for pain or he slept like a damn log!—for he had not opened his eyes even once yet.
Kenpachi snorted as an image came to mind—one where Ichigo would wake up and start shouting about what a bastard he was for leaving all these damn hickeys on his body—
Yes that would be quite amusing
Having Ichigo awake? Now that would be even better.
So as the old saying goes, a man's got to do what a man's got to do—or should that be beast?
His thighs had always been quite ticklish, so it took every ounce of strength he had left to stay still and continue to "sleep"
He nearly slipped up and let out a groan when sharp canines pierced his flesh. Nearly screamed in surprised delight when large hands gripped each sac and—
Like ripe nectarines—the size, the color, the shape, the feel, and now to taste!
"Not quite but during one of my past lives I—
"You bastard don't just stop in the middle just to tell me something so insignificant!"
Well he could continue but he much rather sample the youth's quickly rising
"Not quite but we'll get there."
The perfect combination of sweet and sour. Not a single drop had missed his mouth—for he was no amateur when it came to oral pleasure.
He had gone through many lifetimes in order to perfect his skills.
But it was not in his nature to gloat about it.
A real man would never gloat.
And he was as real as they come.
The beast was merely an outer layer.
Natural flexing abdominal muscles. He could feel them rippling beneath his large fingers.
He continued on up when the boy started squirming.
"Bastard, get on with it!"
Ichigo didn't want to admit that he was ticklish.
"So how far do ya think King is going to let him go?"
"I'm betting all the way."
"Really, think he's ready for that?"
"We'll find out tomorrow."
"You know come to think of it, neither of them actually ever returned for the party."
"True. But I think things worked out for the best in the end."
Nipples. There was nothing particularly exciting about them. They were just tiny inverted nubs of flesh. He really didn't understand the obsession that other people had with them—and he really had no desire to let Kenpachi go anywhere near them.
So he took matters into his own hands, gripped the wild man by the head and demanded to be kissed.
He had been waiting for the aggression, the passion, the equal amount of heat and desire to show up.
Hearing Ichigo make demands was (forgive him from sounding corny) music to his ears!
Snarling, nipping, biting and licking each others faces. Nearly devouring.
The tang, the sweetness, the oh so damn good!
He had fully intended to savor the back of Ichigo just as much as he had savored the front.
Unfortunately (or fortunately?) he couldn't really decide but anyway—his future bride was growing quite impatient.
So it was probably best to move things along a bit.
Now many people favored lubes, toys and other such things for the act of preparation—which was fine (and would certainly come into play somewhere down the line when their relationship had further progressed)—but first time preparations?
Well that required a completely natural, non-artificial approach.
Sure he was a virgin but that didn't mean he was completely clueless.
He knew what Kenpachi was about to attempt and to be honest, he wasn't too happy about.
So he did the only he could—he protested against it.
Unlike before, he would not give in to the boys' pleas—he had no intention to change his course of direction.
"Lips and tongue do not belong in ones –ngh!"
The act of rimming was not dirty, vile—rather it was—
Fun, tasty, intoxicating
All in good time Ichigo would learn to not only love it, he would learn to crave it!
"So how many rounds do ya think he'll last before passing out?"
"Hm its one of those things, you know everyone is different. Some can barely make it past 2 let alone 10."
"So ten then?"
"I think it's a little too soon for that."
The pain was almost overwhelming, nearly made him pass out.
No matter how wide his ass had been stretched, it clearly hadn't been enough.
When tears sprang to his eyes, he didn't even bother to fight them back.
He wasn't weak!
But he was human and the human body simply wasn't made for this kind of thing
"Its too-I can't—just stop!"
Stop? They hadn't even officially begun yet.
There was no way he was stopping.
In fact in a few minutes—Ichigo would be begging him for more!
It was so ridiculously cliché, like a bad porno.
The whole "take it out, it hurts" suddenly morphing into "Gods, do that again and more"
Was he really that unoriginal?
Mother would be so disappointed in him.
Next thing he knew he'd be dressing up in diapers and Kenpachi would be spanking him.
Good God what a horrific thought!
But clichés and jokes aside, somewhere between the second and third thrust, he had started to enjoy it, began to crave it!
Kenpachi (it seemed) was skilled in more ways than one.
Ichigo felt himself grinning like an idiot.
It seemed only fitting that he should bring his lover back to his world to celebrate his birthday..
"So Kurosaki-kun, Kenpachi-san how did you two meet?"
Surely hadn't he grown out of this blushing like a school girl faze by now?
He was 18 for freakin sakes!
"Rukia and I can answer this one 'Hime."
"Um okay so how did they meet?"
Rukia and Renji shared a look and then the redhead began his story "Well it all started when Rukia and I overheard a conversation about mail order brides…