kinkfest | Lies of Resistance [Bleach, Grimmjow/Ichigo, NC-17]

Author: Gryvon
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: non-con/rape, violence, blood... I'm probably forgetting something...
Word count: 1249
Summary: Ichigo is captured while trying to rescue Orihime and the arrancar are bent on forcing him into submission.
Prompt: June 9 - Bleach, Grimmjow/Ichigo: dirty talking – “a filthy manwhore"
A/N: This story follows directly behind Levels of Torture and is followed by Lessons in Survival, though neither is necessary to enjoy this story.

The door shut silently behind Ulquiorra, sealing Ichigo in the tiny room with an insanely grinning arrancar. It felt like a tomb. His tomb. Ulquiorra had said they were going to keep him alive, that they intended to break him, to make him serve the arrancar but with Grimmjow.... He didn't think Grimmjow cared about any of that.

There were bruises on his ankles from where Grimmjow had held him, already starting to darken into the shape of hands.

“You liked that, didn't you, you little slut.”

Ichigo's tongue froze in his mouth. There was no way he could respond to that, not with his own come still wet on his chest.

“You won't like this,” Grimmjow promised as he shifted forward on the bed, moving to position himself between Ichigo's still-spread thighs.

Chain rattled as Ichigo started to shift away, but he didn't get far. Grimmjow's hand covered his face, pressing too-hard against Ichigo's nose as he shoved the Shinigami's head back hard into the rock wall behind him. Pain sent sparks across his vision and kept him still while the ropes around his wrists were snapped apart. He heard more than saw Grimmjow grab the chain and pull, extra length magically pulling away from the wall to lay slack in the arrancar's hands.

“This isn't going to be the last time I spread you open, Ichigo. You're ours now, our filthy manwhore, ripe for the fucking.”

The words sunk slowly into Ichigo's brain. He turned his head to stare at the arrancar, disbelief and dread warring in his head. Grimmjow grinned and tightened his fingers around Ichigo's head. Air slid over his face as he was pulled forward and then, just as quickly, the motion reversed. He thought he heard something crack as he hit the wall again. He probably had a concussion.

White walls spun around him to the tune of chain rattling. He was being turned over and he couldn't do anything to stop it. He could barely see, let alone fight back. Cold air passed along his back. Fingertips trailed across his shoulders and stopped just over his left shoulder before pressed down into the skin. Ichigo screamed as sharp nails drew deep, bloody furrows from shoulder to waist, the pain waking him enough to struggle feebly. A hand on his neck held him down as Grimmjow repeated the process on his other shoulder, then down his spine.

Ichigo bucked, forcing his hips up to try and get Grimmjow off of him but that only earned him a stinging slap across his ass. The hand on his neck slid up to tangle in his hair. Grimmjow's fingers ran across his back, sending shivers of pain through Ichigo's body. His head was turned, forcing him to look up at the arrancar as he brought his bloody fingers into Ichigo's view. Crimson drops fell to Ichigo's cheek and rolled down like tears.

“You're our little slut now. Ours, until you give in, and then, even after. I'm going to fuck you, fuck you until you bleed, fuck you until you pass out and when you wake up, it'll be to my cock still inside of you, riding you until you're raw.”

The arrancar leaned forward slightly, sucking his fingers clean of blood before leaning down to lick the rivulets off of Ichigo's face.

He closed his eyes, and shivered, pretending it was from the pain.

“If you don't behave, we may even let some of the others come and play,” Grimmjow whispered into Ichigo's ear. “I might even watch as they had you, watch and laugh while the precious little Shinigami spreads his legs for any arrancar that comes knocking. I bet you'd even like it. Some of them might even be nice, like gentle little Ulquiorra. But do you know what, Ichigo?”

He opened his eye but didn't answer.

“None of them,” Grimmjow told him with a grin, “will hurt like me.”

The hand in his hair yanked his face back around until he was face-down in his pillow. Then, Grimmjow pushed, shoving Ichigo's face down until he couldn't see, couldn't breathe and all he cared about was struggling just enough to get some air. He could feel Grimmjow behind him, feel the arrancar's weight settle across his thighs.

His head was pulled back too hard as Grimmjow shoved inside. Ichigo screamed, again, his voice echoing off the walls and inside his head. This hurt, worse that Ulquiorra had. Where Ulquiorra had filled him, Grimmjow stretched him, pushing hot and thick inside of Ichigo, splitting him wide open.

“Who do you belong to?” Grimmjow asked.

Ichigo refused to answer.

He tasted cotton on his lips as he was shoved back into the pillow, held down by one hand as Grimmjow pushed one knee higher and slid out. It felt like a sword being pulled from its sheathe and when Grimmjow thrust back in, that was the sword stabbing home, cutting inside of him. His hands slid futilely against the sheets. Even with his strength, he didn't have enough leverage to fight against Grimmjow's hold, not with the nail marks on his back making every movement agony, not with Grimmjow shoving himself hard and fast down into Ichigo.

His head was pulled up. There were tears now, tears he'd fought off for so long, but he was too tired now, in too much pain to keep fighting.

“Who do you belong to?”

“No!”

He gasped in one quick breath of air before his head was shoved down again.

“Tell me,” he heard as Grimmjow rocked into him. “Tell me,” he heard as sweat beaded on his skin, stinging as it rolled along the bloody tracks on his back. “Tell me,” he heard as tears and saliva spilt by choked screams dampened the pillow cloth.

Cold air washed over his face.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Please,” he begged.

The air was taken away.

Grimmjow's hips slammed into him. There would be bruises there, if he survived this, if Grimmjow ever stopped, ever let him breathe. His head swam with lack of oxygen. His body felt heavy, unresponsive. He could still feel Grimmjow inside of him.

The hand in Ichigo's hair moved away and he rolled his head to take in chocked gasps of air, not caring about the sobs that spilled out between breaths or the way tears fell onto his tongue. Grimmjow used both hands to hold Ichigo's ass in the air as he shoved forward once, twice, a third time and came, seed burning inside of Ichigo for a brief moment before Grimmjow pulled out. Ichigo was turned, his back scraping painfully against the rough sheets as Grimmjow forced his mouth open and shoved his dick inside. Seed spurted down his throat. He closed his lips and swallowed before the stuff could choke him, knowing better than to try and fight this.

Grimmjow's teeth shone in the light as he pulled back, cock in hand as he stared at his captive.

A pointed nail ran up the underside of Ichigo's erection, scratching but not enough to draw blood.

“I guess I was wrong. You did enjoy that.”

Ichigo said nothing. His eyes were drawn down to Grimmjow's hand as the arrancar slowly pumped himself back to hardness. Ichigo's eyes widened and he shuddered.

“Who do you belong to?” Grimmjow asked as he pushed Ichigo's feet over his head, bending him double and leaving his ass open for the arrancar.

Ichigo screamed.