Storybook
folder
Bleach › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,558
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Bleach › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,558
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Storybook
Title: Storybook
Series: Bleach
Pairing: Grimmjaw x Ichigo (GrimmHime hinting)
Theme/Challenge: Dream
Rating: NC -17 (rape)
Summary: Such words are meaningless…
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach
--------------------------------
Some would call what he does the point where desire becomes obsession. Others would counter that and say that this action of humiliation is becoming habitual. In some ways it didn’t matter to the teal-haired Arrancar. In his mind it was no one’s business but his own. It was his problem and his alone; he would deal with it how he saw fit to. Anyone that would try to “convince” him otherwise usually ended with a sneer and the middle finger thrown at them before Grimmjaw would stomp away.
He really didn’t know how long after that single fight it started. Over time the images just burned into his mind and would not leave. The Sexta Espada wanted to kill the very one plaguing his nights. Yet not too longer after these very things began, he often had to deal with the painful evidence that he wanted what he saw. He even tried to use that girl that Aizen had Ulquiorra bring, but it was useless. The only one, he realized after several attempts, that would be able to rid himself of the dreams would be the very one he saw.
The Arrancar’s thoughts about this came to reality as the offender and his friends attempted to take back the girl. Their rescue mission had failed, that girl outright refusing to return. This, of course, was after Grimmjaw had reached another stalemate with the shinigami brat. He was not displaying several more scars than before. His mind rationalized that he could just follow through with his plans at this stage be defined as revenge. Grimmjaw immediately left Hueco Mundo to slake his own lust, no longer caring if his actions were justified.
Grimmjaw looked down at the body of the young shinigami writhing under his firm hold on his hips, fingernails digging deep into the flesh. He could tell that the orange haired teenager was grinding his teeth together with every deep thrust that the Arrancar gave, burying further inside him. This wasn’t the first time that Grimmjaw had visited the teen, but every time he seemed to be less and less gentle. He didn’t care about the tearing and ripping of the flesh he was causing Ichigo; Grimmjaw could see the blood trickling down the boy’s thighs. It was not his concern, for he was being satisfied.
Now Ichigo was succumbing from pain mixed with pleasure, no longer having the will to fight back. Releasing one hand from his grasp, he grabbed the shinigami’s manhood firmly and started to stroke it fiercely. His hand moved in time with his rocking hips, knowing full well that Ichigo would be at his limit. A shout from the orange haired teen and the closing of his passage around the Arrancar’s length was predictable as Grimmjaw’s orgasm caused him to drive harder into Ichigo, riding it out until the end.
Wiping his hand on the sheets and redressing himself he looked at the shinigami’s form. The boy had curled into the fetal postion, as if trying to block everything out. Grimmjaw sneered darkly, knowing that he had ruined any dreams that Ichigo once had. He opened a portal and returned to Hueco Mundo, his last thought being left in that dark room. What were dreams after all? Are they not just stories that the mind creates? Dreams really are useless…
Life is not a storybook…
Series: Bleach
Pairing: Grimmjaw x Ichigo (GrimmHime hinting)
Theme/Challenge: Dream
Rating: NC -17 (rape)
Summary: Such words are meaningless…
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach
--------------------------------
Some would call what he does the point where desire becomes obsession. Others would counter that and say that this action of humiliation is becoming habitual. In some ways it didn’t matter to the teal-haired Arrancar. In his mind it was no one’s business but his own. It was his problem and his alone; he would deal with it how he saw fit to. Anyone that would try to “convince” him otherwise usually ended with a sneer and the middle finger thrown at them before Grimmjaw would stomp away.
He really didn’t know how long after that single fight it started. Over time the images just burned into his mind and would not leave. The Sexta Espada wanted to kill the very one plaguing his nights. Yet not too longer after these very things began, he often had to deal with the painful evidence that he wanted what he saw. He even tried to use that girl that Aizen had Ulquiorra bring, but it was useless. The only one, he realized after several attempts, that would be able to rid himself of the dreams would be the very one he saw.
The Arrancar’s thoughts about this came to reality as the offender and his friends attempted to take back the girl. Their rescue mission had failed, that girl outright refusing to return. This, of course, was after Grimmjaw had reached another stalemate with the shinigami brat. He was not displaying several more scars than before. His mind rationalized that he could just follow through with his plans at this stage be defined as revenge. Grimmjaw immediately left Hueco Mundo to slake his own lust, no longer caring if his actions were justified.
Grimmjaw looked down at the body of the young shinigami writhing under his firm hold on his hips, fingernails digging deep into the flesh. He could tell that the orange haired teenager was grinding his teeth together with every deep thrust that the Arrancar gave, burying further inside him. This wasn’t the first time that Grimmjaw had visited the teen, but every time he seemed to be less and less gentle. He didn’t care about the tearing and ripping of the flesh he was causing Ichigo; Grimmjaw could see the blood trickling down the boy’s thighs. It was not his concern, for he was being satisfied.
Now Ichigo was succumbing from pain mixed with pleasure, no longer having the will to fight back. Releasing one hand from his grasp, he grabbed the shinigami’s manhood firmly and started to stroke it fiercely. His hand moved in time with his rocking hips, knowing full well that Ichigo would be at his limit. A shout from the orange haired teen and the closing of his passage around the Arrancar’s length was predictable as Grimmjaw’s orgasm caused him to drive harder into Ichigo, riding it out until the end.
Wiping his hand on the sheets and redressing himself he looked at the shinigami’s form. The boy had curled into the fetal postion, as if trying to block everything out. Grimmjaw sneered darkly, knowing that he had ruined any dreams that Ichigo once had. He opened a portal and returned to Hueco Mundo, his last thought being left in that dark room. What were dreams after all? Are they not just stories that the mind creates? Dreams really are useless…
Life is not a storybook…