#21 "On Moving On" (Grimmjow Jaggerjack/Ulquiorra, Bleach)
Title: On Moving On
Author: shinigamikender
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Ulquiorra/Grimmjow Jagger Jack, Grimmjow Jagger Jack/Il Forte
Theme: #21 - Alone Time
Rating: R/NC-17 (PWP)
Summary: Ulquiorra proves there's more than one way to accept things and move on.
Disclaimer: I was surprised to find we did have a bottle of Bleach in the cabinet. Unfortunately, I don't own even that. But I am willing to use and abuse the characters from this Bleach.
Sex with Forte was never dull. Sharp nails and teeth ground into his skin with an almost deadly precision. On the battlefield he was fierce, but in bed he was that much more so. His eyes were wild with hunger and passion as he rocked his hips against the Espada.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he'd whisper and the words were somehow louder than the sex, mingling with the mixed tastes of sweat and blood and the overpowering sensation.
Grimmjow grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up with some dull amusement as he brushed Forte's hair back, "Yer a sick fuck."
"And you're even sicker for enjoying this sick fuck," Il Forte breathed, lips meeting Grimmjow's in a moment of bursting heat. He'd never get over this sensation, adrenaline pumping just as it might in a battle, but somehow more pleasurable. There was something utterly beautiful about watching the blue-haired Espada get lost in the moment, grunting and then finally panting beneath him.
It wasn't that he dominated Grimmjow. Even when he was on top, he had sense enough to know it was because the man beneath him simply didn't care enough to prove it. Not here, not while they were sharing this.
"Fuuuck," Grimmjow hissed, fingers curling in that beautiful hair that made the bull stand out even more amongst his brothers. And Il Forte was beautiful. There was no denying that. Even now, covered in his blood, eyes lit with the amusement of watching Grimmjow beneath him, he was stunning compared to the others. Fucking gorgeous.
It wasn't a surprise that Grimmjow missed him when he was gone. In a world that had gone wrong, where shinigami had actually been able to beat them back, it was just another part of the role he had been thrown into. He tugged his jacket further over his shoulder.
Goddamit. It did hurt. And it wasn't just Forte. It was all of them, all five of the guys he had let down that day with his overconfidence. And then Tousen with his fucking vendetta against him was taking it just one step to far. Grimmjow slouched against the wall, staring into the empty room. He didn't give a damn what the other arrancar thought. Aizen was the one running the operation. It wasn't his fault he had shit-ass fucks like Ichimaru and Tousen hanging around. And then there was Ulquiorra. Goddamn him and his big hulk of a friend, Yammy. He'd had enough of the little shit not doing anything for days now.
He almost wanted the little ass to say something. Hell, he'd dare him to say something if it did him any good.
Grimmjow reached down. Weeks had gone by since Aizen had taken his blade to remove the number that had once marked him so proudly. It had been even longer since he'd had any. Grimmjow remembered the way it would feel when they screwed, so hot, so packed with need. Hell, he was getting hard just thinking about it.
He reached down, yanking his hakama further down, hand wrapping around his erection and giving it a lazy pump. He was a stupid prick for dying so easily.
"S'fer you, Forte," he muttered, leaning back against the wall and letting out a contented sigh as he began to pump it, finding an easy rhythm. Jerking himself was harder than he thought it would be with one arm, but he sure as hell needed it, that simple feeling of release he'd been denied so long.
"Nnngh, that's..."
"Disgusting."
Grimmjow's eyes shot open at the chill voice, hand freezing on his cock. It was like an instant cock-softener. That fucking ass, Ulquiorra, was standing about three feet away, dead eyes just staring at his erection. Hell, Grimmjow bet he could feel it shriveling under the weight of that stare. He pulled his hand back, tugging his hakama up a bit. There went his plans of getting his rocks off.
"The hell are you doing here?" he snarled, bitterly. If it was just because he wanted to mock him some more, stare at the pitiful thing he was becoming without his rank, without the arrancar he used to call his friends, well, he had come at one hell of a bad time.
Ulquiorra never said a word, blinking slowly at Grimmjow for a couple seconds, before taking a step forward and kneeling. He reached down to brush the hakama down again, green eyes almost pure intensity in and of themselves.
Grimmjow grabbed his wrist, yanking it above his head, "What do you think yer doin'!?"
It wouldn't have taken much effort on Ulquiorra's part to pull his hand free, even of Grimmjow's viselike grip, but he didn't. He simply used his other hand to pull down Grimmjow's hakama. He brushed it with his fingers with an almost childlike curiosity.
"It's inefficient," he finally said.
Grimmjow frowned, "What is?" He'd stand for insults to his methods. Hell, he'd stand for most insults. But to have that little prick touching his dick, calling it 'inefficient'. He'd show him inefficient, alright.
"Attempting to do this with one arm. You'll exhaust yourself." He smoothed a cold thumb over the cock's head, pressing it lightly. If Grimmjow wasn't as weirded out about this as he was, it might have been pretty hot, aside from the fact that it was Ulquiorra he was talking about.
"... Ya don't know anything about this shit, do you?"
Ulquiorra shrugged, "I know enough." He rolled his wrist free of Grimmjow's loosening grip as he pressed the larger arrancar to the wall, "Get on your feet."
Grimmjow scoffed but got to his feet, ready to leave when Ulquiorra's grip tightened on his cock. The hell? Was taking his arm not enough that they had to send Ulquiorra of all people to do this to him? He reached to pull him off when the smaller arrancar knelt and pressed his lips to it.
What the shit was this? Grimmjow tried to pull away again as Ulquiorra pressed his arm against Grimmjow's lower abdomen, effectively pinning him as he parted his lips further to take his head in and then entirely envelop him in the heat of his mouth. The fuck was he thinking? Grimmjow thought, watching almost caught between amazement and disgust.
He had never thought of the leader of the arrancar like this. Hell, he had never wanted to. He wasn't interested in sex, especially with a spineless, over-powered suck-up. But, this was good. This was so fucking good it was unreal. And when he could ignore the fact that it was Ulquiorra of all people down there, fingers gently cupping his balls, he couldn't ignore the fact that he was getting off with this, that he was feeling the kind of adrenaline-lined pleasure that he got from those nights with Forte.
He glanced down through pleasure-hazed eyes at the mask he was used to only seeing the back of and thought that he could get used to this. In fact, he thought, he might already be getting close to that.
Author: shinigamikender
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Ulquiorra/Grimmjow Jagger Jack, Grimmjow Jagger Jack/Il Forte
Theme: #21 - Alone Time
Rating: R/NC-17 (PWP)
Summary: Ulquiorra proves there's more than one way to accept things and move on.
Disclaimer: I was surprised to find we did have a bottle of Bleach in the cabinet. Unfortunately, I don't own even that. But I am willing to use and abuse the characters from this Bleach.
Sex with Forte was never dull. Sharp nails and teeth ground into his skin with an almost deadly precision. On the battlefield he was fierce, but in bed he was that much more so. His eyes were wild with hunger and passion as he rocked his hips against the Espada.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he'd whisper and the words were somehow louder than the sex, mingling with the mixed tastes of sweat and blood and the overpowering sensation.
Grimmjow grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up with some dull amusement as he brushed Forte's hair back, "Yer a sick fuck."
"And you're even sicker for enjoying this sick fuck," Il Forte breathed, lips meeting Grimmjow's in a moment of bursting heat. He'd never get over this sensation, adrenaline pumping just as it might in a battle, but somehow more pleasurable. There was something utterly beautiful about watching the blue-haired Espada get lost in the moment, grunting and then finally panting beneath him.
It wasn't that he dominated Grimmjow. Even when he was on top, he had sense enough to know it was because the man beneath him simply didn't care enough to prove it. Not here, not while they were sharing this.
"Fuuuck," Grimmjow hissed, fingers curling in that beautiful hair that made the bull stand out even more amongst his brothers. And Il Forte was beautiful. There was no denying that. Even now, covered in his blood, eyes lit with the amusement of watching Grimmjow beneath him, he was stunning compared to the others. Fucking gorgeous.
It wasn't a surprise that Grimmjow missed him when he was gone. In a world that had gone wrong, where shinigami had actually been able to beat them back, it was just another part of the role he had been thrown into. He tugged his jacket further over his shoulder.
Goddamit. It did hurt. And it wasn't just Forte. It was all of them, all five of the guys he had let down that day with his overconfidence. And then Tousen with his fucking vendetta against him was taking it just one step to far. Grimmjow slouched against the wall, staring into the empty room. He didn't give a damn what the other arrancar thought. Aizen was the one running the operation. It wasn't his fault he had shit-ass fucks like Ichimaru and Tousen hanging around. And then there was Ulquiorra. Goddamn him and his big hulk of a friend, Yammy. He'd had enough of the little shit not doing anything for days now.
He almost wanted the little ass to say something. Hell, he'd dare him to say something if it did him any good.
Grimmjow reached down. Weeks had gone by since Aizen had taken his blade to remove the number that had once marked him so proudly. It had been even longer since he'd had any. Grimmjow remembered the way it would feel when they screwed, so hot, so packed with need. Hell, he was getting hard just thinking about it.
He reached down, yanking his hakama further down, hand wrapping around his erection and giving it a lazy pump. He was a stupid prick for dying so easily.
"S'fer you, Forte," he muttered, leaning back against the wall and letting out a contented sigh as he began to pump it, finding an easy rhythm. Jerking himself was harder than he thought it would be with one arm, but he sure as hell needed it, that simple feeling of release he'd been denied so long.
"Nnngh, that's..."
"Disgusting."
Grimmjow's eyes shot open at the chill voice, hand freezing on his cock. It was like an instant cock-softener. That fucking ass, Ulquiorra, was standing about three feet away, dead eyes just staring at his erection. Hell, Grimmjow bet he could feel it shriveling under the weight of that stare. He pulled his hand back, tugging his hakama up a bit. There went his plans of getting his rocks off.
"The hell are you doing here?" he snarled, bitterly. If it was just because he wanted to mock him some more, stare at the pitiful thing he was becoming without his rank, without the arrancar he used to call his friends, well, he had come at one hell of a bad time.
Ulquiorra never said a word, blinking slowly at Grimmjow for a couple seconds, before taking a step forward and kneeling. He reached down to brush the hakama down again, green eyes almost pure intensity in and of themselves.
Grimmjow grabbed his wrist, yanking it above his head, "What do you think yer doin'!?"
It wouldn't have taken much effort on Ulquiorra's part to pull his hand free, even of Grimmjow's viselike grip, but he didn't. He simply used his other hand to pull down Grimmjow's hakama. He brushed it with his fingers with an almost childlike curiosity.
"It's inefficient," he finally said.
Grimmjow frowned, "What is?" He'd stand for insults to his methods. Hell, he'd stand for most insults. But to have that little prick touching his dick, calling it 'inefficient'. He'd show him inefficient, alright.
"Attempting to do this with one arm. You'll exhaust yourself." He smoothed a cold thumb over the cock's head, pressing it lightly. If Grimmjow wasn't as weirded out about this as he was, it might have been pretty hot, aside from the fact that it was Ulquiorra he was talking about.
"... Ya don't know anything about this shit, do you?"
Ulquiorra shrugged, "I know enough." He rolled his wrist free of Grimmjow's loosening grip as he pressed the larger arrancar to the wall, "Get on your feet."
Grimmjow scoffed but got to his feet, ready to leave when Ulquiorra's grip tightened on his cock. The hell? Was taking his arm not enough that they had to send Ulquiorra of all people to do this to him? He reached to pull him off when the smaller arrancar knelt and pressed his lips to it.
What the shit was this? Grimmjow tried to pull away again as Ulquiorra pressed his arm against Grimmjow's lower abdomen, effectively pinning him as he parted his lips further to take his head in and then entirely envelop him in the heat of his mouth. The fuck was he thinking? Grimmjow thought, watching almost caught between amazement and disgust.
He had never thought of the leader of the arrancar like this. Hell, he had never wanted to. He wasn't interested in sex, especially with a spineless, over-powered suck-up. But, this was good. This was so fucking good it was unreal. And when he could ignore the fact that it was Ulquiorra of all people down there, fingers gently cupping his balls, he couldn't ignore the fact that he was getting off with this, that he was feeling the kind of adrenaline-lined pleasure that he got from those nights with Forte.
He glanced down through pleasure-hazed eyes at the mask he was used to only seeing the back of and thought that he could get used to this. In fact, he thought, he might already be getting close to that.