Ichigo was never once scared over something. He doesn’t care about what others think — hell, if he did he probably would have dyed his hair black years ago. He’s fought hollows, formidable opponents, seen spirits, dealt with delinquents near his hometown — what’s left to be scared of? He wasn’t one to back down from a challenge so easily — let alone something as small and trivial like a bet. What could he lose? He was determined to win this dumb bet, confident even.

How long has it been since he has lost bets? He doesn’t remember. It was a simple bet, whoever could defeat the most hollows around Karakura city is deemed victorious. The loser shall allow the winner to do anything they please to them — no matter how humiliating, embarrassing or weird it is for them — a bet is a bet, and there’s no backing down once the results have been revealed. He was determined. This should be a peace of cake for him — a simple victory served on a silver platter.

Until he finds himself laying on his bed — propping himself up with his elbows, hair pushed back with a stupid fuzzy headband with bunny ears. How ridiculous, his pride cracking and shattering into tiny pieces the longer this continues. He lost the bet — you’ve defeated one. Just one more hollow than him to earn the glory of being victorious and win the bet.

“this is ridiculous. out of everything you could’ve made me do,” he huffed out, his gaze locking with yours as you apply lipstick onto his lips. This was humiliating — you were straddling him, a bag of makeup beside you as you decided to turn him into your personal face model. Your legs rest either side of his, a grin on your face, and he could tell you were swallowing back your laughter.

“I’m never doing bets with you again.” He’s resisting the urge to wrap his fingers around your wrist and tug it away — getting all of this .. stuff off of his face. If only he had defeated two more hollows — he would’ve had you wrapped around his finger, and he’s frowning at the thought of how close he was.