Pretty Awful in Pink

Pretty Awful in Pink
by: Naraku’s Dark Soul




“Ya look ridiculous, Shinigami.” Grimmjow said, chuckling, his slow, easy tone of voice grating on Ichigo’s nerves. He scowled as Grimmjow sized him up, the Espada’s grin so wide Ichigo thought the man’s face might split in two.

“And whose fault is that, huh? You’re the one who made me put this fucking thing on,” Ichigo said, frowning as he stepped closer to the water behind him and farther away from Grimmjow. They were at a public pool, and not just any public pool, but the one at his high school.

Grimmjow had ambushed him after class, insisting he had something to show Ichigo. He had dragged Ichigo to the locker rooms, telling him to slip out of his body or he’d be sorry. Knowing Grimmjow meant business, Ichigo had complied and the two had stuffed his body into a locker. It was ridiculous, really, and made Ichigo wish he had brought Kon with him--which he would have if he had known Grimmjow was going to pay him a visit that day. Not that the fucker ever gave him any notice. Oh, no. Grimmjow couldn’t be bothered with such a trivial thing as that.

Standing two inches from his high school’s pool, Ichigo could not believe what was happening to him. He sincerely hoped no one could see him. Clad in this pink, frilly, piece of shit swimsuit, he’d be the laughingstock of the school for sure if any of his classmates did notice him. Grimmjow did not appear to share this sentiment, however, the other man’s huge grin still in place as he raked his eyes down Ichigo’s body.

“You bet yer ass I did,” Grimmjow replied, snorting then laughing as he stepped closer and gave Ichigo a swift smack on his pink ass. Ichigo winced at the loud noise Grimmjow’s hand connecting with his flesh made. There were only a few people in the pool, but no way to know for sure whether they could see he and Grimmjow or not. Ichigo knew he presented a lewd spectacle, dressed in this girly one-piece, but knew they could just be being polite and trying their best to ignore him.

“Where the hell did you get this…thing anyway? No fucking water in Hueco Mundo.” Ichigo pulled at the strap, letting it go and flinching in disgust as it hit his skin.

“I didn’t get it from there, dumbass. Just stopped by that strange-broad-you-call-a-friend’s place. Ya know, the one with the huge tits,” Grimmjow said, miming grabbing them. Ichigo blanched, his eyes wide.

“O-orihime?” he said, his face reddening as the realization he was wearing her bathing suit sank in. Well, that would explain the excess fabric in the front. The thing was tight, but the chest tented out, fabric sagging over his less-than-buxom form.

“Whatever the fuck her name is, I don’t give a shit. Point is, Shinigami, ya still got some laps to do,” Grimmjow retorted, spitting on the pavement before sneering at Ichigo and taking several steps toward him.

“You’re such an asshole. I can’t believe you stole Orihime’s clothes! Why the fuck I listened to you, I’ll never know,” Ichigo said, stepping up to the edge of the pool. While it was true he had agreed to put the shitty thing on, Grimmjow never said anything about laps. Ichigo did not intend to humor the other man any further. It should have been enough that he agreed to this humiliation in the first place.

“‘Cuz you‘re my bitch, that‘s fuckin’ why. An’ ya better watch what ya say to me,” Grimmjow replied, his eyes narrowed. Scowling, Ichigo opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, Grimmjow gave him a shove and he fell backwards into the pool.

Spluttering and indignant, Ichigo kicked powerful legs and rose to the surface. He had only been under for a moment and could still see the waves from his fall surging outwards. Whipping his head around, he looked at the other people in the pool. None of them appeared to be looking his way. It was strange, but Ichigo was relieved they had not noticed the splash. Turning back to Grimmjow, he spit a jet of water at the other man, who easily dodged it.

“What are ya so worried about, dumbass? Start swimmin’. No one can see ya,” Grimmjow quipped, giving Ichigo a look that said he’d better or else. Rolling his eyes, Ichigo swam a few feet away and back. No one could say he wasn’t a compromising person.

“Happy now?” Ichigo hoped Grimmjow would be as that was the most the Espada was going to get out of him. No way was he swimming laps in some girly swimsuit. It was tight in all the wrong places, loose in the worst of them, and that excess fabric on the front billowed out in the water making him look like a complete idiot. Scowling, Ichigo tried his best to flatten it down, but with little success.

Deciding he’d had enough of the crappy thing, he made to get out of the pool, but was stopped by a sharp pain on his wrist as he grabbed the ladder. Cursing, Ichigo drew his hand back and examined the fresh welt rising up on his otherwise pristine skin. It wasn’t until he heard Grimmjow chuckling that he realized the other man was responsible. Snapping his head around to look at the Espada, Ichigo’s eyes widened and then narrowed at the leather whip in his hand.

“The fuck was that for? I did what you asked! And where the hell did you get that anyway? Stealing from someone else?” Ichigo said, propelling himself backward and away from the ladder. It was better to keep a safe distance from Grimmjow when he was like this. Although they had been lovers for quite some time, Ichigo had never seen the other man with any proper equipment. If he hadn’t been in the water, he would have been sweating by now. Grimmjow’s playful moods never ended well for him.

“You know exactly what it’s for, bitch. Told ya already, you got some laps to do. A few feet ain’t gonna cut it. As for this…” Chuckling, Grimmjow stretched and snapped the leather in his hands. “…got it from big tits’ place too. Bet ya didn’t think she was into this shit, huh?” Still chuckling, Grimmjow let the whip unfurl to touch the ground, the excess coiling at his feet.

His heart palpitating in his chest, face flushed, Ichigo wondered if it were possible to die of mortification. If it were, he certainly had one foot in the grave with this. He had always thought of Orihime as an innocent, had never wanted to believe otherwise. This was waaay too much information, and Ichigo let himself sink in the water until only the top of his head was visible. He did not want to have to converse with anyone at the moment.

He had almost shaken the feeling of wrongness pervading his entire being when a he heard a snap and felt a sharp pain on his head. “Goddammit Grimmjow, not my fucking scalp!” Ichigo exclaimed, shooting up out of the water to clutch his head as he tried to clear his nose of all the water he had accidentally snorted. His wrist was one thing, but Grimmjow had to be crazy if he thought Ichigo would just sit back and accept being beaten in the head. He opened his mouth to say just that, but was cut off again by the whip flying towards him. Ichigo ducked, splashing to the side as the leather thing whistled past.

“Well what are ya waitin’ for? Get to it,” Grimmjow replied, unfazed. He raised the whip high, ready to strike again, but Ichigo was ahead of him this time. Taking a deep breath, he dove underwater and began swimming toward the other end of the pool. It was a long way, but Ichigo felt safer underwater. He doubted the Espada would hit him while he was being obedient, but could not be too sure his classmates wouldn’t see the splashing. It was some sort of miracle they hadn’t noticed already, and Ichigo wasn’t about to press his luck.

With a few more strokes of his powerful legs, Ichigo emerged gasping at the opposite end of the pool. It was the shallow end and he could have stood up if he wanted, but he didn’t feel like it. Being in such uncomfortable and embarrassing swimwear left him with no qualms about concealing himself. Turning around, he saw Grimmjow glaring at him from the other end of the pool and knew he better get back. After a moment’s rest, he dove under again, pushing himself off the wall this time.

Ichigo had been rushed the first time, trying to get away from Grimmjow and that damn whip, but took his time coming back. Not because he wanted to, but because the swimsuit with its shitty excess fabric was a real pain, slowing Ichigo down while he tried to swim in such a way that the excess didn’t balloon out in the back. It was a nice little feature he hadn’t noticed before, but was painfully aware of now. A frustrating half a length of pool later and he was back where he started. He came up slowly, one arm above his head to ward off any blows that might be coming his way. Instead, he found a grinning Grimmjow in wait for him, hands on hips.

“Now that’s more like it, Shinigami. Knew ya had it in you. Don’t know why ya fight me so fuckin’ hard about shit.” He was still gripping the whip, and Ichigo hesitated responding, wondering what else the man might expect from him. After a moment’s pause, he rolled his eyes and headed for the ladder, deciding he’d take the punishment. He had to get out of the swimsuit if it was the last thing he did. Damn thing was riding up in places Ichigo didn’t want to think about. Clearly not made for men. Or, at least, not for him.

Gripping the ladder, he hauled himself out of the water and stood dripping, orange hair plastered to his head, waiting to see what the Espada would do. Quick as only he could be, Grimmjow was on him, palming his cock through the pink fabric with one hand, the other drawn out and quickly back in for a smack to his ass. Sucking in a breath, it was all Ichigo could do not to stumble back. He hadn’t expected this kind of welcome, had been fully prepared to dodge a few lashings and make a hasty exit to the locker room to reclaim his body and be done with the pink monstrosity.

Grimmjow’s hand on his wrist brought him out of his shocked state, and he blinked several times before looking down at the offending limb. He was about to ask for an explanation, but as Grimmjow pulled his other hand in and tied both with the whip, it all became clear.

“Go on. Get over there an’ bend over,” Grimmjow said, turning Ichigo around and giving his ass another smack, sending him back toward the pool ladder. Frowning, Ichigo looked over his shoulder at the Espada.

“The hell you got planned now?” he asked as he bent over, Grimmjow getting a face full of his pink ass.

“Yer a dumb fucker, you know it?” the Espada responded, sneering as he reached down to tie the other end of the whip to the pool ladder, nice and close. “An’ pink looks terrible on ya.”

Ichigo could have told him that to begin with. Pink was for girls, although he wouldn’t exactly be surprised if he found Ishida wearing the color. Shaking his head, Ichigo pushed back the thought. He was already growing hard in anticipation of what Grimmjow would do next and did not want his boner harshed. As if reading his mind, the other man came up behind him and began to massage his ass cheeks, spanking each lightly before drawing away.

Again, Ichigo thought of how ridiculous he must look in the stupid bathing suit, and wished he’d had the foresight to take it off as soon as he got out of the pool. He should have known Grimmjow would jump on him like this. The man had a damn near insatiable sex drive and could never keep his hands to himself for very long. Sighing, he gripped the metal in front of his hands, steeling himself for whatever the other man had planned for them. He wasn’t sure how it would work with him in a one-piece bathing suit, unable to take it off, but knew the other man too well to doubt his capabilities.

Suddenly Grimmjow was back, nails digging into Ichigo’s flesh as he viciously tore the bottom half of the swimsuit away. Ichigo hissed at the newfound freedom, relieved, but still annoyed by the remaining half of the bathing suit hanging limp from his upper torso. The man definitely had some kind of ESP, or whatever the hell it was called, Ichigo thought, gripping the handrail harder.

He was still embarrassed that they were doing this in such a familiar, public place, but that only seemed to add to his desire. Grimmjow had barely touched him, but he was already fully erect. Behind him, the Espada laughed.

“You can pretend all ya want, but I know ya like it, my horny bitch.” The last was punctuated with a slap, which echoed off the hard planes in the room. Ichigo grunted in response. His face might have been red, but he wasn’t about to agree with the other man, and disagreeing wouldn’t get him what he wanted.

Soon enough, Grimmjow’s hand found his entrance, and Ichigo’s favorite part, or one of many favorite parts of sex began. Grimmjow stretched him with first two well-lubricated fingers, then three. He groaned as the third was stuffed into his ass, pushing back against Grimmjow’s calloused hand for more. The Espada obliged him, pumping all three fingers hard and fast inside of him until Ichigo cried out.

Chuckling, Grimmjow drew his hand back, replacing it with his hard cock as he gripped Ichigo’s hips. “Better fuckin’ hold on.” Ichigo gripped the handrail until his knuckles grew white. He knew the Espada, knew he wasn’t kidding when he said something like that. Sure enough, the man’s first thrust inside of him was brutal, tearing a gasp from his throat and nearly causing him to lose his footing. Ichigo quickly righted himself as Grimmjow drew back out, spreading his feet wide for balance. He did not want to end up back in the pool, especially like this. The second thrust caused him to jerk forward a bit, but not nearly as much as before, and Ichigo relaxed a little, losing himself to sensation. Grimmjow’s cock was thick as ever, pushing deep inside of him to hit that special spot that made his back bow, made his vision blur with pleasure.

It was all Ichigo could do to keep his grip on reality as Grimmjow increased his pace, slamming into him hard enough that the ladder clanged against the wall. The thing sent ripples across the pool with each thrust and Ichigo saw his classmates finally, belatedly looking around to find the source of the disturbance, but could not bring himself to care. He was quickly approaching the point of no return, with Grimmjow’s hard length pounding him into submission. Nipples standing erect, Ichigo bucked back against the Espada, earning a surprised grunt from him and a slap on the ass, which sent a shudder of pleasure through his overloaded body. He swore when he came a second later, jets of semen spurting out to land in the pool and slide down the handrail. Gasping for breath as he came down from his high, Ichigo barely registered the tightening of Grimmjow’s hands on his hips, barely heard the Espada’s strained grunt as he emptied himself deep inside.

Grimmjow remained inside for a second before pulling out and letting go of Ichigo, who was still trying to regain his composure. Ichigo heard a rustling sound and assumed Grimmjow was straightening his clothing. He only wished he could do the same. Now that there was no more pleasure distract him, he was conscious of the vulnerable position he was in. If Grimmjow decided he wanted to have some more fun, there was not much Ichigo could do about it. Not that the whip was a real problem. Sure, it was leather, but it wasn’t reiatsu resistant. It was more about the idea of control. Ichigo could free his hands if he absolutely needed to, but he knew the Espada wouldn’t like it if he did. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off again by Grimmjow cursing.

“Ah shit. Forgot that asshole Aizen’s havin’ a meeting soon. Gotta go, Shinigami. You c’n take care of the rest.” Before Ichigo could protest, he felt the tell tale shift in the air pressure announcing the Espada’s departure.

Sighing, he set to work on the knots Grimmjow had made, trying his best to free his hands without damaging the whip. He didn’t know if Grimmjow would be pissed about it. Not that it really mattered. The man was a complete asshole and would probably find some way to punish Ichigo regardless. He didn’t know why he had let this happen to himself. It wasn’t as if this was the first time Grimmjow had left him hanging.

Standing up and rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the ache, he stripped off the top half of the pink monstrosity Grimmjow had gifted him with and let it fall to the ground. Ichigo wasn’t one for souvenirs, and half of a pink, frilly swimsuit wasn’t going to change his mind.



Birthday fic for the awesome Gogochan. :)