◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ grimmjow fucks like he's trying to prove something.
hands bruising your hips, dragging you down onto his cock so hard the head slams against your cervix, and he loves every twitch, every sob, every shatter of your voice. you can barely breathe with how fast he’s going, how deep, like his only goal is to rearrange your guts and make sure you never even think of another man again.
and that body—fuck, that body.
he’s over you, all carved muscle and tan skin, sweat dripping off his abs, his hair wild, sticking to his forehead as he snarls down at you. his hips roll with a violence that makes the headboard slam the wall again and again and again.
“you fuckin’ love this,” he growls, watching your tits bounce with each thrust, cock driving so deep it’s like he’s trying to stay inside forever. “say it. say you love this cock, baby.”
“y-yes,” you sob, eyes rolling, legs trembling, your pussy so wrecked around him. “i—i love it, i love you—!”
“that’s right,” he snaps, fingers digging into your ass to angle you up more, grinding in with rough, punishing strokes that leave your toes curling. “only mine, right?”
he hits that spot again and you scream. your mind’s going white, your voice dissolving into desperate whimpers—and that’s when it slips. breathless. broken.
his eyes go black. his cock twitches inside you, still buried to the hilt—but suddenly still, dangerously still. the kind of still that makes your stomach drop.
your heart lurches. “i—i didn’t mean—”
his hand’s around your throat before you can blink, not choking—yet—but holding. firm. dominant. his grin is feral, all teeth.
“oh. you didn’t mean it,” he mocks, his voice low and dripping venom. “funny, ‘cause you screamed it like you wanted him to come watch.”
you squirm. panic bubbling up through the haze of fucked-out bliss.
“ohhh, baby,” he hisses, leaning in close, his breath hot against your ear. “you just fucked up.”
he pulls out—rough—and flips you face-down like you weigh nothing. your ass is in the air before you can protest, your cheek pressed into the mattress, his palm smacking down hard on your ass with a crack that makes you cry out.
“wanna say another man's name while i’m inside you?” he growls, lining up again. “then let me show you why you only moan mine.”
he slams back in, no warm-up, no warning—just thick, hard cock spearing into your soaked cunt like a punishment. you scream, arching back, nails tearing at the sheets.
“that’s it,” he growls. “cry for me, baby. scream. let aizen hear who owns this pussy.”
his hand fists in your hair, yanks your head back. you’re drooling, moaning, already shaking, and he’s not slowing down—just hammering into you, over and over, rough enough your whole body jerks with every thrust.
“say it,” he snarls. “say my fuckin’ name.”
he groans, hips slamming into your ass, cock battering your cervix, his voice filthy and ragged. “yeah. that’s fuckin’ right. you’re mine. my filthy little slut. no one else gets to fuck you like this—no one.”
his hand slips between your legs, finds your clit, and rubs tight circles—fast, relentless. your back arches. your scream rips from your throat. you cum so hard you black out for a second, legs giving out, body shaking like a leaf.
and he still doesn’t stop.
“gonna fill you up,” he growls. “let him see my fuckin’ cum leaking out of you next time he looks your way. let him know who you belong to.”
you sob, wrecked. used. owned. and when he finally cums, he shoves in deep, cock twitching, spilling thick and hot inside you until it’s dripping down your thighs.
he leans over you, lips brushing your ear, voice soft now. mocking.
“say his name again,” he murmurs. “and next time, i’ll fuck you in front of him.”
