Bleach - [GrimmUlqui] - Spitfire
Originally written anonymously for yaoi_challenge and posted here.
Title: Spitfire
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Grimmjow/Ulquiorra
Author: QuincyArcher (shinigamikender)
Recipient: The Pathetic Queen
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Spoilers for the Arrancar arc, some bloodplay/sadism
Summary: As the negacion fades, Grimmjow decides to make Ulquiorra acknowledge his presence.
That fucking asshole. Grimmjow's blue eyes practically simmered at Ulquiorra's partially exposed back as Negacion led into the insubstantial tunnel of garganta. He didn't care what the hell Aizen's orders had been. Nothing should have been enough to yank him back from the best fucking fight of his life.
It was only all the more embarrassing and annoying as hell that it had been Ulquiorra of all people to pull him back, like some kid who needed to be told when and where to go. At least, with Tousen, the overlord had some reason to pull him from that first battle with the shinigami (as convuluted and Tousen-like as that reason was). This was stupid and more than anything else, it made it look like they couldn't handle whatever the shinigami or their new masked allies decided to pull out of their ass.
It's not like Aizen couldn't have waited another five minutes or so while Grimmjow wiped the floor with their asses anyways. Hell, it wouldn't have taken even that by the time Grimmjow released his zanpakutou.
Grimmjow hissed in pain as the first strains of adrenaline began to filter free from his system, the gashes on his chest from the shinigami's blade had begun to burn with an invisible fire lacing along the still sticky blood. Pain always shortened his already short temper and Ulquiorra was inspiring it more than anything. The more Grimmjow stewed on it, the more he wanted to do something, to force the little shit to react to him, to make him pay for screwing up one of the best damn fights in his life.
The motion was almost instinctual as he shoved Ulquiorra with his good arm, pressing him against the wall. He felt Ulquiorra almost shudder in near-shock, his emotionless green eyes widening in surprise. He reached up to remove Grimmjow's strong arm with a pale one of his own and that pissed Grimmjow off all the more.
Ulquiorra wasn't scared. Grimmjow didn't even feel a quickening of breath against his hand. It was like he was a fucking minor irritation, a fly that could be brushed aside. Grimmjow pressed closer, forcing his leg between Ulquiorra's stiff, white, and, Grimmjow noticed, unstained hakama. He'd fix that plenty soon enough. Ulquiorra wasn't getting away from this without getting his hands, or at least something else dirty.
Ulquiorra's lips tightened as his dark green eyes grew dangerously darker. He stiffened against the wall, forced to look up at Grimmjow's imposing, to say the least, height. The first of the Espada made no move to dislodge the other, simply opening his mouth in demand.
"Get off," he breathed, monotone voice never lifting in anger, making it sound oddly more potent and dangerous than it had been if it had quavered in emotion, rage or fear.
"Nah," Grimmjow snorted, slamming his hand against Ulquiorra's shoulder, an awkward one-armed pin as he made certain the other couldn't protest for long. He bent over just a little, lips meeting Ulquiorra's, forcing them apart so he could get a taste. And, damn, it was a taste he almost wished he tasted earlier.
The heat of Ulquiorra's mouth was nothing compared to the heat that surged through Grimmjaw, a rush of power, fresh and full. This was what it was like taking advantage of Aizen's precious first. And, best of all, Ulquiorra wasn't complaining. The other had stiffened under him, but he wasn't moving. In fact, as Grimmjow pressed his tongue deeper into Ulquiorra's unresponsive mouth, he felt the other start to reciprocate, shifting just barely to become more comfortable as his smaller tongue began to move against Grimmjow's.
This was fucking fantastic.
Ulquiorra finally pulled away, lifeless eyes dulling searching Grimmjow's before the other jerked down the zipper that kept his too pale chest away from the dim light of Hueco Mundo. Grimmjow wasn't finished yet. He wasn't finished by a long shot.
He'd gotten a response from Ulquiorra, a tiny, almost insignificant one, but he wanted more. Grimmjow wanted to hear Ulquiorra scream. He wanted to see blood, both his and Ulquiorra's, smeared across that too perfect chest. Grimmjow wanted to feel the other writhing beneath him. He wanted to see the other's eyes turn skywards in hopelessness.
His teeth met the white spanse of chest, violent as he was in any fight. Grimmjow almost grinned manically as he heard Ulquiorra give a soft grunt of pain. Gorgeous. Fucking gorgeous. But, it wasn't enough. He worked at the hierro that kept Ulquiorra from being completely connected as he fumbled to free them both of their hakama.
When the primera's skin broke under Grimmjow's teeth, Ulquiorra let out a low moan, arching against the lips and teeth that now worked the gash wider, lapping at the blood as it spilled. Ulquiorra's reiatsu was a weak thrum around them now, but the power that flowed into Grimmjow's mouth with the taste of his blood was intoxicatingly full.
"Fuck, yes," he whispered, jerking Ulquiorra's hips upward to finger the hole he knew would be there. Grimmjow broke free from Ulquiorra's skin only once, spitting on his palm for the slightest amount of lubrication to ease his way in.
He wasn't going to be gentle. He wanted to see the pain contort Ulquiorra's face. He wanted to watch as the other completely gave himself to Grimmjow's power. Now, that would be his revenge. He'd make Ulquiorra acknowledge him, even if he had to rip him apart.
With the first thrust, Ulquiorra let out a shuddering gasp, finally responding enough to lift his hands to Grimmjow's shoulders, eyes clenching shut. That, alone, made Grimmjow pick up the pace, thrusting harder and faster into other arrancar. This feeling of power, something he had been denied for so long since losing his arm, was more than wonderful. This feeling alone was an orgasm that wasn't even physical.
Grimmjow reached down, hand finally meeting Ulquiorra's erection. So, the primera Espada wasn't an entirely cold fish after all. With a series of steady jerks, Grimmjow worked him off, pressing him tightly against the wall of the castle. He was winning. Hell, this wasn't even a fight, because Ulquiorra had surrendered the moment they kissed.
With every pump, Ulquiorra's hips arched, chest rising and falling, the blood from the wound and Grimmjow's spilling across his white abdomen and smearing as Grimmjow pressed closer.
"Say my name, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow urged, hips shaking on the verge of climax as his grip on the other tightened, "Say it."
Ulquiorra's lips parted as Grimmjow's hips thrust into him one last time with the heat of his come filling the smaller arrancar.
"Former Sexta Espada, Grimmjo- nngh..." Ulquiorra gasped, trying to finish his words, "Grimmjow Jaggerjack." Together they slumped, Ulquiorra sliding back against the wall as he came.
Grimmjow spat, "Bitch."
Title: Spitfire
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Grimmjow/Ulquiorra
Author: QuincyArcher (shinigamikender)
Recipient: The Pathetic Queen
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Spoilers for the Arrancar arc, some bloodplay/sadism
Summary: As the negacion fades, Grimmjow decides to make Ulquiorra acknowledge his presence.
That fucking asshole. Grimmjow's blue eyes practically simmered at Ulquiorra's partially exposed back as Negacion led into the insubstantial tunnel of garganta. He didn't care what the hell Aizen's orders had been. Nothing should have been enough to yank him back from the best fucking fight of his life.
It was only all the more embarrassing and annoying as hell that it had been Ulquiorra of all people to pull him back, like some kid who needed to be told when and where to go. At least, with Tousen, the overlord had some reason to pull him from that first battle with the shinigami (as convuluted and Tousen-like as that reason was). This was stupid and more than anything else, it made it look like they couldn't handle whatever the shinigami or their new masked allies decided to pull out of their ass.
It's not like Aizen couldn't have waited another five minutes or so while Grimmjow wiped the floor with their asses anyways. Hell, it wouldn't have taken even that by the time Grimmjow released his zanpakutou.
Grimmjow hissed in pain as the first strains of adrenaline began to filter free from his system, the gashes on his chest from the shinigami's blade had begun to burn with an invisible fire lacing along the still sticky blood. Pain always shortened his already short temper and Ulquiorra was inspiring it more than anything. The more Grimmjow stewed on it, the more he wanted to do something, to force the little shit to react to him, to make him pay for screwing up one of the best damn fights in his life.
The motion was almost instinctual as he shoved Ulquiorra with his good arm, pressing him against the wall. He felt Ulquiorra almost shudder in near-shock, his emotionless green eyes widening in surprise. He reached up to remove Grimmjow's strong arm with a pale one of his own and that pissed Grimmjow off all the more.
Ulquiorra wasn't scared. Grimmjow didn't even feel a quickening of breath against his hand. It was like he was a fucking minor irritation, a fly that could be brushed aside. Grimmjow pressed closer, forcing his leg between Ulquiorra's stiff, white, and, Grimmjow noticed, unstained hakama. He'd fix that plenty soon enough. Ulquiorra wasn't getting away from this without getting his hands, or at least something else dirty.
Ulquiorra's lips tightened as his dark green eyes grew dangerously darker. He stiffened against the wall, forced to look up at Grimmjow's imposing, to say the least, height. The first of the Espada made no move to dislodge the other, simply opening his mouth in demand.
"Get off," he breathed, monotone voice never lifting in anger, making it sound oddly more potent and dangerous than it had been if it had quavered in emotion, rage or fear.
"Nah," Grimmjow snorted, slamming his hand against Ulquiorra's shoulder, an awkward one-armed pin as he made certain the other couldn't protest for long. He bent over just a little, lips meeting Ulquiorra's, forcing them apart so he could get a taste. And, damn, it was a taste he almost wished he tasted earlier.
The heat of Ulquiorra's mouth was nothing compared to the heat that surged through Grimmjaw, a rush of power, fresh and full. This was what it was like taking advantage of Aizen's precious first. And, best of all, Ulquiorra wasn't complaining. The other had stiffened under him, but he wasn't moving. In fact, as Grimmjow pressed his tongue deeper into Ulquiorra's unresponsive mouth, he felt the other start to reciprocate, shifting just barely to become more comfortable as his smaller tongue began to move against Grimmjow's.
This was fucking fantastic.
Ulquiorra finally pulled away, lifeless eyes dulling searching Grimmjow's before the other jerked down the zipper that kept his too pale chest away from the dim light of Hueco Mundo. Grimmjow wasn't finished yet. He wasn't finished by a long shot.
He'd gotten a response from Ulquiorra, a tiny, almost insignificant one, but he wanted more. Grimmjow wanted to hear Ulquiorra scream. He wanted to see blood, both his and Ulquiorra's, smeared across that too perfect chest. Grimmjow wanted to feel the other writhing beneath him. He wanted to see the other's eyes turn skywards in hopelessness.
His teeth met the white spanse of chest, violent as he was in any fight. Grimmjow almost grinned manically as he heard Ulquiorra give a soft grunt of pain. Gorgeous. Fucking gorgeous. But, it wasn't enough. He worked at the hierro that kept Ulquiorra from being completely connected as he fumbled to free them both of their hakama.
When the primera's skin broke under Grimmjow's teeth, Ulquiorra let out a low moan, arching against the lips and teeth that now worked the gash wider, lapping at the blood as it spilled. Ulquiorra's reiatsu was a weak thrum around them now, but the power that flowed into Grimmjow's mouth with the taste of his blood was intoxicatingly full.
"Fuck, yes," he whispered, jerking Ulquiorra's hips upward to finger the hole he knew would be there. Grimmjow broke free from Ulquiorra's skin only once, spitting on his palm for the slightest amount of lubrication to ease his way in.
He wasn't going to be gentle. He wanted to see the pain contort Ulquiorra's face. He wanted to watch as the other completely gave himself to Grimmjow's power. Now, that would be his revenge. He'd make Ulquiorra acknowledge him, even if he had to rip him apart.
With the first thrust, Ulquiorra let out a shuddering gasp, finally responding enough to lift his hands to Grimmjow's shoulders, eyes clenching shut. That, alone, made Grimmjow pick up the pace, thrusting harder and faster into other arrancar. This feeling of power, something he had been denied for so long since losing his arm, was more than wonderful. This feeling alone was an orgasm that wasn't even physical.
Grimmjow reached down, hand finally meeting Ulquiorra's erection. So, the primera Espada wasn't an entirely cold fish after all. With a series of steady jerks, Grimmjow worked him off, pressing him tightly against the wall of the castle. He was winning. Hell, this wasn't even a fight, because Ulquiorra had surrendered the moment they kissed.
With every pump, Ulquiorra's hips arched, chest rising and falling, the blood from the wound and Grimmjow's spilling across his white abdomen and smearing as Grimmjow pressed closer.
"Say my name, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow urged, hips shaking on the verge of climax as his grip on the other tightened, "Say it."
Ulquiorra's lips parted as Grimmjow's hips thrust into him one last time with the heat of his come filling the smaller arrancar.
"Former Sexta Espada, Grimmjo- nngh..." Ulquiorra gasped, trying to finish his words, "Grimmjow Jaggerjack." Together they slumped, Ulquiorra sliding back against the wall as he came.
Grimmjow spat, "Bitch."