Title: Survival
Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Knight, this is a fanfic written for fun and for love of the series. I'm not making any money with it.
Warning: Angst, non-con, abuse.
Summary: Ichiou x Kaname non-con lemony one-shot. Passed not long before Kaname enters Cross Academy.
The young pureblood has been living at Ichiou's place for several years now, and has been forced to accept things he never thought he could accept. PWP lemony Kaname uke one-shot.
Pairings: Ichiou x Kaname (non-con).
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"You've been bad again, Kaname... I have to punish you now."
Ichiou's deep voice rumbled in Kaname's ears, the mere sound of it enough to further make the pureblood's knees weak due to the ingrained reaction, his body taking over, too used to the abuse, automatically falling into a pattern that had been deeply rooted in his instincts by years under the 'guardianship' of Ichiou. Years of abuse that had grown more and more depraved as Kaname's body changed and matured into the delicate beauty it had now, and Ichiou's preferences evolved from mere whippings and beatings to much worse things.
It didn't matter that Kaname had no idea what offense he was being accused of today. He would take the punishment without contestation, knowing that even asking what he was guilty of would only make things much worse.
The young pureblood's bare legs were shaking against his best efforts.
Small beads of sweat pearled on the surface of his alabaster-pale skin, creating a light sheen of perspiration along his inner thighs, to which were added droplets of the lotion Ichiou roughly applied on him –in him, more exactly– and of which the excess was running down Kaname's legs.
The air was thick and musty in Ichiou's personal office. Kaname would never get used to the scent of it, regardless of how many years he had been forced to live in the old vampire's mansion, ever since his parents were killed –or according to the council, 'committed suicide, in such a terrible and unforeseen tragedy!'
The young pureblood was in his chambers when he had been summoned for a private meeting with Ichiou. He arrived pale, face drawn with worry, wondering if today it would be the whip, the cane… or worse. It was the third option.
They were both standing, or more exactly, Ichiou was standing still mostly dressed, while restraining a very naked Kaname, whose legs were feeling more and more weak, and who knew that he was nearing the point where he would fall if the other released him. It was always that way, Ichiou usually just unzipped at most, while Kaname was always made to be completely naked so that he would feel the sting of his vulnerability even more.
The older vampire had an arm around his ward's bare chest and a hand firmly in place between his legs, exploring and plundering at will while the slender body trembled in his hold.
Kaname's head lolled against the other's chest, and he bit his lip to hold back the increasing urge to whimper from the rough preparation, as Ichiou's spread his fingers in a scissoring motion inside him, not bothering to wait until the pureblood had the time to adjust, stretching him harshly and much too fast. At least for once he bothered to use lube at all... it's so rare. Kaname breathed shallowly, trying to focus on anything but the burning, piercing sensation, and the much worse burning of the shame searing through his body and mind. Tears stung in his eyes, but what little he had left of his pride made him focus all his will into not shedding them in front of his tormentor.
There was nothing whatsoever that Kaname could possibly do to stop his guardian. Going against Ichiou would be sealing the doom of all that he wanted to protect, and no horror in the world would ever make him risk Yuuki, or even the academy. So he endured, and clenched his teeth harder when the fingers were roughly withdrawn, indicating what was to come next.
Ichiou shoved Kaname forward --making him plop down face first onto the divan right in front of them-- before unceremoniously kicking his legs aside to spread them, barely giving the pureblood time to find his balance so he wouldn't fall.
Kaname clung to the frame of the divan, a hand holding onto the wood while the other clenched into a fist against the cushions, trying to brace for the penetration that he expected to be imminent, but instead of the much too familiar and much dreaded feeling, Ichiou's deep voice disturbed the still silence of the room again.
"Beg for it."
Oh no. He's in one of those moods again.
"Beg now, Kaname." The unspoken words clear in his tone were ones that Kaname knew much too well. 'If you know what's good for you. Or there will be a world of pain.'
Kaname wasn't afraid of the pain. Nothing could hurt more than what he already had to endure constantly at Ichiou's hands. Nothing that could be done to his body, that is.
He did fear all the many things Ichiou could do that didn't concern his body, but the people he loved.
There was almost no pride left in him anyway, he had nothing to cling onto, and no reason to try to salvage his own mind or body, especially not when the sacrifice of one or the other could further delay the inevitable confrontation that would put Yuuki in danger. The few remaining shards of his shattered pride were a small price to pay.
Every single time Ichiou touched him, Kaname felt like he would die on the spot, his shame consuming him so utterly that he couldn't possibly breathe. But he needed to live. He had to go on, because when the time came, he would have to be alive to protect her from Rido.
And hopefully, one day -- if he wasn't too tainted by then-- he would be finally free and able to stand near her.
It would take years, and he would definitely have to wait until each and every single one of the bastards was dead before he could let his guard down – he knew better than think that he would be free of the abuse just by escaping that house; he suspected it would continue even if he did manage to escape to the academy as Cross kept insisting for him to do. But ultimately, one day Ichiou, the council, all those corrupt vultures would all die.
Then, only then, he would be able to go to her. And for that, he had to live, and go on enduring.
And so, Kaname surrendered once more to the horror, complying and doing as the other wanted. Shaking hands went up to his own backside, and on his knees on the divan the young pureblood swallowed his pride once more and presented himself open for his tormentor, choking out the hated words through the tears that were inevitably rolling down his face now as he begged to be taken.
Ichiou let out a low growl of appreciation. There was almost nothing more delicious at his eyes than Kaname's tears, and in such a position, they presented the ultimate spectacle.
He buried himself to the hilt in the quivering young body beneath him, slowly but ineluctably, not bothering to slow down, forcing himself in with a single, long and painful motion.
Kaname couldn't hold back a strangled cry as the pain spiked to the highest point before the other's hard body was fully inside, but it only fueled on the older vampire's lust.
Ichiou may not be able to take the pureblood's blood by force --the only crime that he wouldn't be able to get away with-- but he would take everything else Kaname had. His hands grasped the slender hips with bruising strength and he began thrusting in and out, not leaving his ward enough time to even begin to adapt to the stretching agony. Kaname's chest was heaving, his breath coming in gasps as he tried to cling onto the divan, too far gone to care that he was sobbing audibly and that his enemy reveled in the confession of misery that his whimpers represented.
But if there was one thing Kaname's own nature had taught him, in a level so deep that it was primal, it was that above the blood, above the power, above the mental abilities, above all else, the one true thing about purebloods was that they were resilient.
He would survive this, like he survived each one of the previous rapes.
When it happened for the first time he had thought he would never be able to stand and face the world again, much less walk with his head raised, but he was wrong. Each and every single time, he survived, and he would keep doing so. He would endure, and he would prevail.
When all else was gone, thousands of years from now, all his enemies would have died by his hand. Ichiou would be nothing more than forgotten dust on the ground. Even Rido would be dead. And he, Kaname, would be at the summit of power, with Yuuki safe and right beside him.
And for that, he could well clench his teeth and hold onto the divan with his shaking fingers a bit longer, shattered pride and tear-streaked face or not.
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The end.
Sorry the lemony part wasn't longer? XD; lol
And uhm, please don't hate me? XD;;; I ADORE Kaname, he suffers in my fics not because I dislike him, but because I love him too much. XD;
I love him powerful, strong, safe and all, but he's also so sexy in non-con situations, so I can't help producing such fics. XD;