kinkfest | Feral [Bleach | Grimmjow/Rukia

Title: Feral
Author:

worblehat
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Some biting.
Word Count: 820
Summary: Bleach, Grimmjow/Rukia: biting; "fuck buddies".
A/N: Self-beta'd and late! Sorry, was on vacation and couldn't post on the 12th.

Grimmjow reaches out, one finger slipping beneath her black hair to touch the blue skin beneath. Rukia swats him away, glaring. He grabs for her wrist, bending it back, watching her face contort for a brief moment before she swallows down the look of pain that only briefly appears on her face.

"Do they know you're out here?" he breathes, feeling her body convulse under his. He's become addicted to it: that nearly-tangible revulsion mixed with the desperation of wanting something you shouldn't. Grimmjow knows it goes against everything in Rukia's moral fiber to meet him like this, over and over, between dark alleyways in places that aren't remotely connected to the nobility he's heard her family is supposed to have.

But it isn't that which interests him so much as the way she feels, gasping and hissing at him, her slender waist meeting his thrusts. It's the almost feral reaction to him that keeps him coming back to fuck an otherwise weak shinigami.

"Stop asking stupid questions," mutters Rukia, trying to grab her wrist back. He moves it behind her body, pushing her backwards against the alley wall. She winces, then forces a smirk. "Or maybe you can't help but ask stupid things."

Grimmjow matches her smirk, his more genuine as he presses his body against hers. He grinds against her, slowly, just once. "Wonder what your brother would think if he knew-"

She pulls back then, a circle of near-black around her wrist. Cradling her wounded hand to herself, she raises her knee, pressing it low against Grimmjow's waist, ready to kick him away. "Don't you dare bring up nii-san," she spits. Her gaze is fueled by anger, sharp hatred showing more clearly than usual. He hardens immediately at the sight and shoves her knee out of the way.

The next few moments happen quickly. Grimmjow shoves his hand beneath her skirt, between her thighs until he feels her legs contract. "No underwear?" he murmurs, slipping one finger up and inside. His cock rubs against her thigh, clothing separating their bodies and dulling the friction. Grimmjow doesn't mind. Rukia is suffering more than he is, especially when he tilts her head forcefully to the side with his free hand, licking the circle of blue on her neck from where he bit her two weeks ago.

"Stop-" begins Rukia, protest turning into a moan as he bites hard - harder than he knows she can handle. The skin on her neck raises immediately, warm and red beneath his teeth.

Grimmjow slips another finger in, listening as she gasps; feeling her knees tighten and shake.

Rukia never asks for anything - not with words. But her body slowly closes around him, stomach just visible beneath her shirt as her back arches, propelling herself further – forward into Grimmjow's touch.

He knows he has to get back to Los Noches before someone finds him down here and reports him to Aizen (like he really needs another lecture from that asshole). Grimmjow removes his fingers, pushing her skirt up and shoving both of her hands to his hakama. "Hurry up," he growls, watching her injured hand as it shakily undoes the fabric; until it's sliding off, to the ground.

Her back aligns with the cold brick wall as he pushes her up, the tip of his cock already partway inside her. Rukia's cheeks flush and Grimmjow shoves the rest of the way in, intentionally rough. Her hands move to his neck and around it, drawing him close: the softness and the intimacy causing him to move faster. He lowers his head when he feels her breath on his own neck, the thin yet sharp teeth biting right at the vein.

"Ah-" he gasps, both hands tight on Rukia's waist as he thrusts and thrusts, Rukia growing wetter and biting harder; until he's close, then hot, then coming inside. He holds her fast, making sure he's buried in her all the way to the base, wanting her to feel his come as deeply as possible. The motion causes Rukia to convulse and her mouth lets go of his neck with a soft gasp and a harsh, hissed "shit" before her legs are wrapped around him, body rubbing harshly against his.

A car rumbles by, at the edges of the alley. Grimmjow pulls away, letting her sink to the floor as he re-does his hakama. Rukia doesn't look at him, propping herself up against the wall.

"Next week," he says, turning away; one hand at his neck, smirking at the feel of the tiny indents of teeth.

Rukia watches as he disappears into the night sky, then looks down at her hands; feels the warm come between her thighs and tightens her legs. She dials Orihime's number and waits with closed eyes. Her neck throbs and she leaves it, knowing it won’t have enough time to heal before she next sees him.

It never does.