Chapter Text
Ichigo found himself in this position way too often, sitting in Kisuke’s lap like a doll while the man did whatever he wanted. It was tempting at the moment to mouth off, maybe try to get the ever-calm man to lose his cool and control, something he hadn’t even done when one day Ichigo had had enough and pushed him across the bed and rode his cock. It had still somehow ended with Kisuke fucking him into the sheets.
This time, Kisuke was content to just grope him, his hips, his chest, his shoulder, his inner thighs, and he groans roughly when that hand finds his cock, rubbing and groping it through his pants.
“Asshole,” he says, because he can never help himself.
Kisuke bites his ear roughly, and Ichigo knew it was going to be a pain to hide the bite marks he left. He could blame it on his nonexistent dog maybe?
Someone laughs that isn’t him or Kisuke and Ichigo almost jumps because he’d forgotten someone else was there at all, everything consumed and torn asunder by his hands and his mouth and his teeth and his voice.
“You are quite mean to your subs, aren’t you, Kisuke,” Yoruichi laughs, cruel and flirty, “Of course, nowhere as mean as I am.”
Kisuke lets out a nervous laugh, “I have no idea what you mean,” he says, “I’m very kind and attentive.”
Ichigo snorts. As if the man wouldn’t keep him on the edge for hours if he felt like it, as if the man wouldn’t wring orgasm after orgasm after him even if he were crying and begging him to stop because he just looked so cute like that. Attentive, yeah right. Asshole. He was a big asshole.
Yoruichi stands up and walks towards them, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor with every step, her upper thigh revealed by the slit in her black dress as she moves. She walks until she is looking down at them from only a few inches away, and she lifts her foot and puts the sharp part of the heel on Kisuke’s hand that’s on his cock, and oh that is way too close for comfort. He swallows.
Yoruichi’s eyebrow is raised, as she watches Kisuke, who is watching her just as closely, temperature dropping, until Yoruichi lets out a laugh, dark and light, “Oh, you are, are you?” she teases, “Attend to me, then.”
Ichigo whines, because that’s not fair, Kisuke was attending to him, she couldn’t just steal him away.
“Oh~,” she says, confident and mean and it’s so fucking hot it isn’t fair, “Is the pet upset? Don’t worry, I’m fully capable of taking care of both of you at once.”
And then she presses her foot down, the pressure on his cock is nice, but by the broken sound Kisuke lets out, it must hurt his hand quite a bit.
“Both of you on your backs on the bed,” she says, seems to think for a second then adds, “Take off each other’s clothes too.”
And Ichigo feels his eyes widen when Kisuke starts to follow the orders, he’d never seen the man take direction from anyone, not even Shinji , though he did let the man pin him and fuck him when he wanted, but that was different. An animal taken over by need compared to this, a predator taking their time with their food. A conscious sort of takeover.
He fumbles to help Kisuke get out of his clothing. The fancy suit fit him well, and it did him all kinds of favors, but getting him out of them was a practice in patience, as his hands fumbled with buttons and too many layers. Kisuke had an easy job in comparison.
There’s a slim hand on his shoulder and he jumps slightly, and she was leaning on the bed too, “Relax,” she said, “I just wanted a closer look.”
She fists a hand in Kisuke’s hair and pulls and the sound he makes is one that Ichigo is going to file away and have dreams about, ok. He made notes to try that himself one day, if Kisuke would let him.
“Stop playing around,” she says, “I know you can do better than that.”
“I did exactly as you asked,” Kisuke says, and part of Ichigo feels like he’s being a little shit even if he can’t exactly pinpoint how.
“You forget yourself,” Yoruichi says, pulling harshly, “I wasn’t asking.”
Ichigo feels lost, or maybe like he’s between something he shouldn’t be, something over his head and under his nose.
He doesn’t realize he’s making a noise until both of them turn to him. There’s power plays going on here he can’t quite make himself comprehend.
Yoruichi smiles at him, and Kisuke is weirdly quiet, “Don’t worry, cutie, I’ll be getting to you next. You can be patient, right?”
She leans closer to him, her breasts against his back, “Do you want to know a secret, pet?” she asks and at the questioning noise he makes she answers, “Kisuke’s just as much of a slut as you are, loves being bent over and forced.”
“Aren’t you?” she says, addressing Kisuke, “A slut for whoever will give you the time of day.”
The broken way he breathes out yes makes something tingle down Ichigo’s spine to settle in his core and oh.
“Ah, Yoruichi-san, I wouldn’t quite call myself a slut,” he tries, a wild look in his eyes, as if he’d barely pulled himself back together to fight, even though he’d answered yes just moments before.
“Then tell me,” she says, “Why are you baring your throat to me, practically begging me to taste. Why are you half undressed already, flushed to your shoulders, desperate for me to look and take?”
She lets go of his hair and he gasps and tries to follow her hand as he unconsciously tilts his head to follow her.
“Well?” She says, “Why are you still dressed.”
Ichigo and Urahara are frozen still for just a moment, before they both rush to obey.
It’s how they find themselves moments later, her watching them and touching whenever she wants, ordering them this way and that, to touch each other, to kiss each other, to suck each other’s cocks and then stopping them each time before either of them can reach their release.
It’s how they find themselves on their backs side by side, vibrators neatly shoved up their asses, positioned to play with their prostate and unable to do anything but take it.
Ichigo whines when she pulls him up by his hair, until he’s kneeling before her.
“Look how hard he is for you, pet,” she says, “Whores, you both want to be filled and fucked, don’t you? Want to be owned and used and abused.” She roughly grasps Ichigo’s cock, too hard to be pleasurable and Ichigo moans anyways.
“Go ahead,” she says, “Fuck yourself on his cock.”
“Or,” she continues, “Would you rather fuck him?”
Ichigo gasps, desperate and unsure and he can’t choose.
“Please,” he says, apropos of nothing else, everything else.
Kisuke is watching him, eyes bright and red and desperate, and oh the man was going to punish him for this later, he could feel it.
“Go ahead, then, pet, I’m not going to stop you.” and he rushes forward to lean over Kisuke, breathing hard and kissing him sloppily, messily, tongues dragging together.
He removes the vibrator from Kisuke when the man bites his lip hard enough to bleed, and fuck moving had pressed the vibrator against his prostate again and he jolted and keened.
Then he’s pushing into a tight, wet heat, and losing himself.
Yoruichi laughs. “Did you come already?” she says, eyes glinting cruelly, “Such an impatient naughty pet, coming so quickly. Without permission. Didn’t Kisuke teach you better?”
“You weren’t made to fuck anything were you, pet?” she says, “Just a whore meant to be fucked.” She pulls out the vibrator and twists as she pushes it back in. Ichigo screams.
“Let me show you how to do it,” and it's the first time he notices she’s wearing a strap on. When did she even have the time? Probably when he was lost kissing Kisuke. She pulls him off of Kisuke, lays him until he’s curled up on Kisuke’s stomach, back to her, still fucking him with the vibrator in one hand, and then she’s bending Kisuke in half until his legs are pressing into Ichigo’s side, and he can hear the desperate noises Kisuke makes as she fucks him, skin slapping against skin and it’s so much, too much.
He doesn’t know how he’s getting hard again, but fuck if being pressed between the two could result in anything less.
“My slut,” she says, “Look at you, taking it so well, I chose my biggest dildo just for you. I know how much you love a big cock stretching you out and ruining you.”
Kisuke keens, and makes a noise that sounds something close to her name.
“Do you think your hole will ever close again? You won’t be able to get fucked again without the boys being disappointed, such a loose and used hole. You won’t be able to get fucked without thinking of me and how good it feels when I fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.”
Kisuke comes to those words, chastised for his neediness and told how much of a perfect whore he was.
Some of his come falls into Ichigo’s hair and neither of them can find it in themselves to care.
Yoruichi fucks him through his orgasm, not letting up until he’s groaning from the feel of it and then she’s removing herself, leaning back, her legs spread, entirely unashamed of what she’d just done to the both of them. They’re both covered by sweat and come and lube and fuck.
“Well?” she says, and Kisuke laughs, lighter than he’d ever heard him before, and then he’s kneeling between Yoruichi’s legs, kissing her core, and Ichigo can’t breathe.
“You’re always so good to me,” he says, “Let me return the favor.”
He thinks for a second that she will let him, but then she’s removing his head from between her legs with a sharp slap. “No,” she says, and then she is gesturing for Ichigo to come closer, and he’s lost and he’s there and he’s not and he can’t do anything but listen and follow. When he gets close enough, he’s the one being pressed between her legs, mouth pressed to her lips, so close he barely has the space to take a breath, “Fuck him for me while he figures out what to do with a pussy, I want to see you break him apart.”
“I wouldn’t break him,” he hears Kisuke say, but then there’s a hand on his ass, pulling his cheeks apart.
“You would.” she says, “There’s no other reason a slut like him would be with you. But you’d put him back together after, wouldn’t you?”
Kisuke doesn’t answer, but the next moment Ichigo is gasping against Yoruichi’s cunt as he feels something wet move up and down his hole, and with a sort of weird clarity, he realizes it’s Kisuke’s tongue licking into him.
He didn’t know that could feel so good, not even entering him, just licking, and it made his hips stutter to get away, to get closer, an overwhelming feeling that pushes and pulls him.
There’s a harsh pull on his hair, and he’s reminded what task he’s supposed to be focusing on, but how can he, when Kisuke is doing this to him, making him feel this overwhelming pleasure-
“Use your tongue,” she orders, “Lick up and down, slowly, pet.” she orders, and he focuses on her words on breathing and licking and sucking and feeling good.
It’s good, it’s more than good, it’s everything, being used like this, between two people more cruel and kinder than anyone he’d ever met before.
He presses his tongue inside curiously, insistently, and her folds part for him, the taste of her intoxicating. She moans at that, so he must be doing something right, and he presses his tongue in as far as it can do, trying to get as much of her as he can.
He fucks her with his tongue as Kisuke does the same to his asshole, and he presses his tongue to her clit curiosly mindful of his teeth, sucks and bobs his head and his face must be so messy by now.
He doesn’t know how long the three of them stay like this, lost in each other, but he does know eventually the grip of her hand tightens in his hair and she presses his face tightly to herself and leaves him there struggling to breathe, still sucking and licking because he couldn’t stop, until she relaxes again and pulls him away.
“Very good for a first time,” she says, eyes staring at him, and he lifts his hand up to find his entire face wet with her, and licks his lips, “Oh, Kisuke, maybe I do want to steal him.”
He yelps when he’s pulled back roughly, away from Yoruichi and speared on Kisuke’s cock in one movement, Kisuke actually growling.
“No.” he says, “He’s mine.”
Ichigo shivers with it, and Kisuke fucks him hard and fast and deep and his hand is on his cock fisting it and he’d been driven crazy with a tongue on his rim for what felt like hours, it’s not his fault he comes almost immediately. At least, Kisuke follows him shortly after, filling him up and he moans brokenly.
“Yours,” he soothes, because Kisuke looked seconds away from tying him up and proving that fact to the both of them.
Kisuke takes a deep breath. “Sorry, love,” he says, petting Ichigo’s hair, and he finally relaxes against the man, whining because fuck, they were both so much, too much.
“Don’t make unfunny jokes like that, Yoruichi.” Kisuke says, and she laughs.
“Why wouldn’t I, when the reaction is so fun?” she says, not at all apologetic.
Ichigo thinks maybe she wasn’t joking, but he kept that to himself.