#!nsfw

Most of Savanaclaw goes through some sort of rut/heat during various times in the year, primarily early spring and summer. There's no logical reason for them to retain that aspect of their mating cycle anymore, not for a sentient species that have skills of logic and reasoning. Unfortunately, they didn't get to choose how their evolution worked, and so they have to deal with it in anyway they can.

They get a lot more irritable, they have throbbing headaches, their abdomen hurts, and the scent of their mate is a lot more enticing than normal. Jack probably has it the worst of them, as a wolf beastmen. Not only does he have to deal with a fever-inducing rut that will put him out of commission for a week, afterwards he has to deal with the a/b/o jokes from his classmates too, oh the horror. It is really a horror though when he's able to bend you over his bed, bite marks aligned your neck and back as his dick pounds into you till his knot swells and locks you in for at least an hour. Jack's incredibly embarrassed afterwards, though he manages to be incredibly sweet even after rearranging your guts. Wolf beastmen are one of the most affectionate partners to have with a reputation providing some of the best aftercare for their species. It's most likely to make up for their week-long copulation, stretching and tiring out their sweet little mates. Ooooh, but they'll so very sweet: cleaning up the sticky mess of fluids between your legs with their tongue, careful to not overstimulate you (unless you ask), tending to the mating mark they placed on the back of your neck with soft kisses and licks, and making sure to prop your lower half up to that your chances of taking their seed increases.

Lacking the annual rut/heat that other variants of beastmen have, lion and hyena beastmen are more similar is this regard, as they don't have the same issue of long copulations as wolf beastmen. Neither will initiate sex, rather they'll rely on their mates to do so. Ruggie, in particular, is rather reluctant initiating sex, as male hyenas are typically more submissive, so if you're shy you'll have to get over it. But once you do, Ruggie is ever so happy to service you if you're happy to give him praise. Run your hands through his hair and ears as he eats you out, he'll let out the cutest whimpers and groans as you do. Just, expect to be jellyboned by the time he's done with you, as a hyena he needs to make sure his mate won't snip back at him and you can't exactly do that if your fucked out. While he may not have the same stamina as Jack for week-long fuck session, he has a particularly short refractory period and can have several short sessions in a single night.

Leona also won't typically initiate sex on his own, it happens very sporadically, and he his the image of the lazy lion. While he never wants to do anything particularly extraneous, who is he to deny you needs? You'll have to do some preparing though, as while the barbs on his dick aren't as bad as they are in his animal variant, they will hurt if you're not wet and pliable enough. Be sure to sit on his face, don't worry you won't suffocate him and it's better you cum a few times first before taking him. Unless you want it to hurt? Once you've cum enough times, you can ride him to your heart's content. He only asks that you don't mention how he rubs his head into the crook of your neck, marking you so that if everyone couldn't tell by the sounds coming from his room, they'd know you're his from his scent. Lions are quite protective with their territory and pride after all.

Merfolk have the most extreme physiological differences between them and...any land dweller really. It comes with the territory of being suited for a completely different environment. They also behave a lot more similarly to their animal counterparts, which can be both delicious and exhausting for their humans.

Moray eels don't have a set time of the year they mate, but rather the water must be warm and plenty of food must be ready to provide to their mate. When the spring time weather above the sea starts transitioning from crisp to blazing, don't be too surprised when the twins start handfeeding you meals and snacks throughout the week, they want to make sure you're happy and full for them, getting you in the mood with a sweet, dizzying underwater dance to initiate until they get the okay from you. What's that 'okay' though? You know that yawning I mentioned before? You'll get your answer from them now, as they take your open mouth yawn as an invitation rather than a sign of tiredness. Floyd, in particular, is ready to drag you into the deep part of the pool before remembering that you need to breathe somehow. Not a problem. He'll keep your pretty head above water. You'll still have trouble breathing as his long tapered tongue worms his way in your mouth. No matter, you'll be gasping for breath as he bullies this cock into your hole, large enough that you can physically feel the bump on your stomach. Morays are awfully fond of wrapping themselves around their mates, seeing as Floyd will do his best to tangle his tail around your body and squeezing you as you squeeze down his dick. He loves the physical contact between you two, and is amused how your nails try to dig into his shoulders seeing as the mucus on his skin makes it near impossible to have a steady grasp. You're completely dependent on Floyd as you drool and cry out for relief from the overstimulation, which is oh so ever exciting.

Jade is equally as cruel when it comes to mating. Unlike the others, merfolk tend to mate with the intention to, well, mate. He prefers you to be soft and pliant for him, as well as wholly depending as you two fuck. So, he'll happily brew you a water-breathing potion so he can actually drag you into the deep, where he found a secluded, warm grotto that will allow him to keep you to himself for hours, but close enough to the surface that he can continuously grab you food to eat between sessions. Not that those sessions will be short either. Like his brother, Jade is content to wrap himself around your body as he cooed honeyed words into your ears about how you'll make a wet, warm, soft hole for breeding. It's not like he'll have to do much either, his dick is prehensile and he can wrap himself around you, swiping kisses and nuzzling into the crook of your very sensitive neck while his thick cock continuously pounds into you with a bruising pace. He's so mean!! He likes seeing you cry from overstimulation too, and Jade will continuously scoot down to clean you up with his tongue, only to claim that too much of his seed was gone and he needed to fill you up again for another few hours. He's truly quite incorrigible, especially when he bites into your neck and shoulders to make his claim on you. Don't worry, most morays' bites aren't venomous, and even if they are, you have him to care for you. You're going to be depending on him in the water anyway, so there's no need to worry about it too much.

Something that neither probably won't mention, probably because they won't realize it's something you should know, is that they can change their sex under the right conditions. If you're ever so inclined in the future to test the waters out, the twins might be so generous to let you eat them out instead.

Of the trio, Azul's the only one with an established mating season, two actually: one in the late spring and the other in the early fall. Respectively, one during finals and the other during orientation. He's already so incredibly stressed, and he has the need to breed too? Downright atrocious. It's wonderful that you're so kind that he can take refuge in you and use you like a new octopot, so tell him how pretty he is and how much you love him and only him, so that you have the privilege fucking his merform. The moment you're entering the water, he'll unconsciously display mating signals by flashing soft lilacs and blues, a beautiful display of his need for you. He's rather large, even bigger than the twins, in his merform, so you'll need preparation as well; have no fear, his tentacles are wrapping and kneading the squishiest parts of you. I mentioned before that he can taste the salt on your skin and pulse through your wrist via his suckers. He can taste the slick from your walls, too, without even having to use his mouth as the suckers massage you from the inside. If you'd like, he technically could give you a full flavor profile afterward, though he'll probably be a bit mortified to do so. The biggest difference is his dick, or lack thereof. Instead of a dick, Azul has a hectocotylus, which is a modified, slightly shorter arm of his with a thicker spade-shaped tip that he can practically rearrange your guts with, with little effort on his part really. Most octo-mer variants will keep their mate at a distance, eons of instinct hard to forget. Azul's variant, though, will keep you close, almost dancing with you in a sweet, sensual twirl as he places sweet kissing and bites on your neck, arms, and chest. Octopi are, in fact, venomous, however, so you will be feeling a bit of a lustful high, paralyzed, and a bit helpless to the whims of a needy octopus. He's quite good at aftercare though, making sure you get an antidote and handfeeding you calorie-rich snacks to energize you back up (again, he's aware that you won't eat him, but instinct dictates that he keeps you full with both food and cum to make you a happy mate).

Her hands slipped under my t-shirt, cool fingers tracing the line of my spine, and I flinched. But not from the chill.

“Are my hands too cold?” she whispered, pulling back, her eyes wide and suddenly unsure.

“No, no,” I rushed out, my voice rough. “It’s just, um… It feels nice.” More than nice. It felt like a revelation. Her touch, so deliberate, on my skin. It shattered the last of my composure.

I kissed her again, pouring every unsaid thing into it— the apologies, the silence of the last several months, the constant, steady pull she’d always had on me. And then her hands were pushing the fabric up, and I broke away just long enough to pull the shirt over my head. The air was cool, but her gaze was like sunlight.

The doubt kicked in then, sterile and rational. This was Belly. Isabel. I couldn’t mess this up. I couldn’t let her think for one second that any of this was casual.

“I hope you know I didn’t bring you here just for this,” I said, the words tumbling out. I needed her to understand. The house, the trip, it was a desperate grasp for a piece of our old world, for a quiet space where I could just be with her.

“Oh, I know,” she said, so easily, her hand coming up to cradle my jaw. Her trust was a gift I felt utterly unworthy of.

“We don’t have to do anything if you…” I started, giving her every chance to run, to be sensible.

“No, no, no, I want to,” she interrupted, her voice firm, her eyes holding mine with a bravery that humbled me. “I want it to be with you. I mean, unless… unless you don’t want to.”

A fractured sound, half-laugh, half-sob, escaped me. Didn’t want to? It was all I’d thought about, dreamed about, even when I was trying my hardest not to.

“No. No. No, I do,” I said, each word more emphatic than the last. “I really do.”

I kissed her then with everything I had, trying to communicate what my words always failed to. My hands went to the buttons of her sweater, slowly undoing each one, before slowly pushing it off of her body, and then the simple top underneath followed.

She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, shrugging it off. I saw her then, in the flickering amber light, and my breath caught. She was beautiful. Not like a picture or a statue, but alive, real, giving herself to me. The curve of her shoulder, the flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat. Mine to worship, to protect.

I was careful, so careful, guiding her onto her back on the blanket, cushioning her head.

“You’re staring,” she whispered, a shy smile playing on her lips.

“I know,” I said simply. “I just… really like the view.”

I kissed her slowly, deeply. We moved together, a slow, tender unraveling. Every piece of clothing felt like a barrier to a truth we were finally ready to face. The firelight danced over her skin, painting her in gold and shadow. I propped myself on my elbow beside her, just looking, committing this to a memory I knew I’d visit every day for the rest of my life. My hand skimming down her side, over the dip of her waist, the swell of her hip. Her skin was impossibly soft. When my touch hesitated at the waistband of her jeans, she arched into me, a silent, powerful yes.

There were moments of fumbling, of shared, nervous breaths, of whispered “sorry”s and “it’s okay”s. It wasn’t some perfect, seamless movie scene. It was better. It was real. It was us.

My hands danced down her body, caressing the curve of her breasts, gently kneading and tweaking her nipples. My other hand gliding down her stomach, pausing briefly before she nodded permission. My fingers gently dipping between the folds of her pussy, gently grazing up her wet slit. When my thumb rubbed against her clit she released the most exquisite sound I have ever heard. Slowly I slipped my middle finger inside of her. The feeling of her tight warmth on my finger had my cock throbbing against her thigh, pre-cum beading at the tip. I slowly worked her open, paying attention to her clit as well, before pulling my hand from between her legs and putting my hands on her cheeks. When there was nothing left between us, I held myself above her, looking down into her face.

“Belly,” I said, her name a prayer. “Tell me if…”

“Conrad,” she answered, her hands coming to my face, pulling me down to her. “I’m with you.”

I entered her slowly, a world of sensation narrowing violently, erasing everything but us. Her sharp inhale, the way her eyes fluttered shut then opened, fixed on mine. There was a brief tension, a pain I wished I could absorb for her, and then a yielding so profound it stole the air from my lungs.

“Okay?” I managed to gasp, my forehead resting against hers, my whole body trembling with the effort of holding still.

She nodded, her eyes shining. “You?”

I laughed, a choked, emotional sound. “Yeah. God, yeah.”

I began to move, a slow, rolling rhythm that felt less like a taking and more like a discovery. Each thrust, each sigh, was a new country we were mapping together. The tenderness I felt was a physical pressure behind my ribs, so immense I thought it might break me. I kissed her eyelids, the salt on her cheeks, her parted lips. I whispered her name into the hollow of her neck, into the shell of her ear.

Her legs wrapped around me, her hands clutching my back, pulling me closer, deeper. The passion rose then, a tide meeting the tenderness, turning the slow exploration into something more urgent, more consuming. The fire cracked and popped, casting our moving shadows on the wall; a single, fused silhouette.

Her breaths came in shorter gasps, her head tipping back. Watching her come undone was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Her pleasure was my compass, her soft cries my guide. I felt the coil of my own pleasure tightening, a sweet, unbearable pressure, but I grit my teeth and held on, waiting for her, only for her.

When it swept through her, her body arching under mine, a beautiful cry breaking from her lips, her pussy convulsing around my cock, I saw stars behind my own closed eyelids. I forced my eyes open to watch this magnificent woman cumming on my cock. Her name was a broken chant on my lips as I followed her over the edge, slamming my hips flush against her as ropes of cum filled her spasming womb. Falling into a warmth that had nothing to do with the fireplace and everything to do with her.

For a long time, there was only the sound of our ragged breathing mingling with the whisper of the dying fire. I rolled carefully, pulling her with me, tucking her against my chest on her side, her head on my beating heart, my cock still twitching with aftershock inside of her. My heart hammered against her cheek, a frantic, joyous beat. I pressed my lips to her hair.

We lay there, wrapped in the blanket and each other, as the room grew darker. The storm inside me, the one that had been raging for months; the guilt, the grief, the anxiety about the future, had stilled. For this one, perfect slice of time, there was only peace. Only Belly.

Her fingers drew idle circles on my chest. “Conrad?” she murmured, her voice thick with spent emotion.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

The lump in my throat made it hard to speak. I tightened my arm around her. “Thank you for coming.”

I felt her smile against my skin. Soon, her breathing evened out into the gentle rhythm of sleep. I stayed awake, holding her, watching the last embers glow. The floor was hard, the future was uncertain, and I was still a mess in a thousand ways. But in that moment, with the girl I had yearned for since I knew what yearning meant, was safe in my arms. I had never been more sure of anything. This was where I belonged. With her. Always.

      grimmjow’s adjuchas form was la pantera; a slender, panther-like animal that dominated the perpetually pale white dunes of hueco mundo. so naturally, (with my brain falling into grimmjow-specific rut) i’d like to believe that grimmy has a scent kink. and he’d never know nor expect to have one before crossing paths with you, a damned human, he’d curse in his mind.  there’s just something intrinsically wild and unhinged about grimmjow, and loving the way you smell ━ even to extreme extents ━ is just one of the ways he displays his affection for you. so, this segues into grimmjow getting very possessive over you very quickly and is almost …territorial with this pretty human girl that’s close with soul reaper ichigo and his friends.

it’s when he initially acts on his own, gathers his group of lower ranking arrancar, and invades the world of the living that he discovers you and your unique but slightly impressive spiritual pressure; impressive in the sense it was enough to see at least see spiritual beings like hollows and shinigami. during all the chaos and on his search for this ichigo kurosaki he’s been hearing about, he spots you on a sidewalk, engaging in what looked like a sprint, farther and farther away from a fight between one of his men and another shinigami he didn’t recognize or care enough to know the name of. from where he stood in the air, he could see then clear look of fear in your eyes. your facial expression was showed you were deeply distressed, your body visibly trembled━ 

then his analysis came to a pause. wait.

your body.

getting a little closer to the grown, grimmjow was able to get a closer look at what pieces of fabric were hugging that...voluptuous figure of yours. while dodging fall debris, maneuvered through the streets of karakura town in a baby blue, spaghetti strapped tank top that stopped just above your pierced, pudgy navel (the blue-haired arrancar had never seen a piece of jewelry placed there before, but found himself staring at it for longer than what was necessary), black yoga pants whose hem reached past your ankles, black ugg tasman slippers, and to top it off, your long black cardigan flew wildly in the wind as you ran. all his senses were sharper now that he was a more powerful, full-fledged espada, so he could hear the faint sound of clear beads from your butt-length hair violently bouncing against each other, giving you an individual style that grimmjow couldn’t help but find remarkable. and then without warning or a distinguishable explanation, some primal notion deep within his being, felt himself immediately attracted to you. but of course, being supercilious as he was, the thick fog of pride fogging his vision, he rebuked any and all lingering thoughts, curiosity, attraction towards you. you were a human for crying out loud. what was worse, you didn’t even have any powers like that orange haired woman orihime or that other strong guy, chad. they were human too, so what was different about you. not having the patience to figure it out, his ( initial ) regard for you plummeted and ultimately decided to ignore you so and carry on with what he initially came here for: to find a worthy opponent and fight them.

and that same wind that passed through your knee length cardigan floated irregularly through the atmosphere, making a slow and aimless ascension to the clouds that hung lazily in the navy-blue sky━ inching closer to the sexta espada. the air infused with your scent entered the vicinity in which his sharp nose was able to reach. the breezed wisped across his strong face and jaw, he inhaled it unintentionally and— God his mind literally blanked. grimmjow’s train of thought was abruptly flung off the rails and momentarily lost concentration on the fight he was about to engage in. he swore the hot blood that rushed down to his crotch from his brain was instantaneous, he almost lost balance.

what was that smell? and why in the hell did it smell…so good? his mind wandered, unknowingly becoming hopelessly enraptured by your aroma and wanting to fulfill the instantaneous urge to follow the scent, like a fucking dog or something. and when he remembered you running, panting heavily to safety ━ past his general direction ━ he put two and two together and figured out it was you. the ambrosial smell was coming from you, from that plush body of yours. it had taken his olfactory senses by the horns, and grimmjow nearly lost all his wits, the urge to abandon the whole fight with carrot top just to seek you out and take you for himself was getting stronger with each passing minute. and it was obvious he’s not good with impulse control at all, so the fact he had so much self-restraint to focus on the current task at hand was a feat in itself.

he was able to spot your figure one last time before you disappeared into one of the buildings a few blocks down. while senselessly beating ichigo into the asphalt of the street, there was a lingering thought in the back of his mind that liked seeing shade of blue against your mocha skin. 

maybe because the hue was coincidentally similar to the hair on his head.

soon enough the battle was over, and when he returned to his own quarters in las noches, laid on his bed and took a moment to really process everything? he could feel himself spiraling, but this time he didn’t do anything to stop it; he let his thoughts hurl themselves off the deep end. his senses were swirling, your pleasant odor imprinting on him more deeply than he had expected or anticipated it to. he needed to see you━ no, to smell you again. little did he know these budding desires would cause him to become enamored with every aspect of your being in the very near future. with grimmy being who he is, he already began to scheme and figure out a time when to go back to the world of the living. he didn’t even know what he was going to do but he just knew that he had to satiate these relentless thoughts. 

he could feel his member stiffening again when he remembered how just how you looked, with that frightened expression laced in your countenance. that paired with your sensual figure and how you smelled? without giving it a second thought, he scrambled to get his pants at his ankles so he could wrap his large palms around his girthy dick quick enough. he gave himself a few experimental pumps, precum was quick to bud from his slit when your round tits flashed in his mind’s eye. he then imagined how your aroma mixed with the scent of passionate sweaty sex as he fucked you silly would smell like, and just how much sweeter your voice could sound with his name dripping from your plump lips. with his mind racing, shame quickly evaporated from his body as he tightened his grip, his hand movements grew faster and alternating between different wrist movements. grimmjow cursed himself through deep groans for being aroused enough to even do something like this because of some human woman he saw on the street in the world of the living, but the poor baby couldn’t help it. 

grimmjow got so lost in the pleasure, in the feeling of how his heavy cock felt in his grasp and in his fantasies of bouncing you up and down his length, breasts jiggling in his face with his mouth clasped onto one nipple, like a baby desperate for milk from its mother. and he wanted all of your ‘milk’, and he desperately wanted to give you all of his; he wanted to fill you up with it. after overstimulating himself a little and having mind-blowing, sheet-gripping orgasm that left his chest rising and falling like waves against the seashore, his hips lazily thrusted into his fist on their own volition to prolong this euphoric sensation for as long as possible. usually, post-nut clarity was supposed to bring you to your senses, to a more rational and calm state of mind. 

and bring grimmjow to his senses, it did. because he stared at the unnatural amount of his solidifying seed in his palm, on his lap and near the hole in his abdomen, one thing became increasingly clear: releasing an abundant amount of cum didn’t make him want you less— it made him want you more. because grimmjow knew well enough he’d drive himself crazy with these kinds of perverse behaviors and thoughts of you had he done nothing to resolve the issue. with you on his mind, he wouldn’t be able to focus on the tasks as one of lord aizen’s elite arrancar.

eventually, around the time the fourth espada ulquiorra would coerce and kidnap orihime to come with him to hueco mundo, grimmjow decided that was the best time to. . . apprehend you as well. he didn’t even have a valid reason other than wanting to keep you for himself and utilize you as he saw fit. quite frankly he doubted anyone, including aizen himself, would care if he brought back a little something extra from the world of the living, especially if this ‘something’ was a human who was no imminent threat to aizen’s plans. if anything, this could only benefit him, since you were one of ichigo’s close friends and if needed, you could be used as leverage.

it would be at night when your fate would be sealed, the sky practically empty and starless. the lights from the many buildings and streetlights outshone any stellar body that hung up above besides the moon. and high in the atmosphere is where the garganta that came from hueco mundo pried itself open, like the mouth of a monster about to devour its prey. except the ‘predator’ in question was actually the sixth espada; and of course, you were the unsuspecting prey. his sapphire irises scanned over the vast area of the city, starting at the place where he last fought with ichigo.

memory served him correctly ━ probably because he was so determined━ and recalled the general area where your living space was. using his sonído, grimmjow already found himself hovering above the apartment complexes, and began to seek out your unique spiritual pressure. within seconds he was able to distinguish yours from the faint traces of the other humans living on this block, and he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating from excitement or not, but he was sure he could pick up your scent from all the way where he levitated in the air. he had to suppress a growl as he followed his senses, and made an abrupt appearance on your terrace, which you unfortunately left cracked open because your bedroom was much too stuffy and desperately craved circulation from the cooler, night air. 

the blue-haired espada let out a sort of derisive chuckle at your blatant ignorance. 

it’s only when you opened the door to your bathroom that led directly to your bedroom did you notice that a stranger had entered your apartment. your heart dropped when you saw grimmjow’s tall, lanky but muscular figure sitting on your bed, his elbows on his knees and his eyes trained on you. he was like a cat, with how his gaze was so fierce and consuming. a wave of an unfamiliar fear washed over your body and mind, completely drowning you. your legs instinctively moved backwards back into the bathroom, your flight response taking prominence and deciding you’d barricade yourself in there. you weren’t even a hundred percent certain it would work, but you couldn’t just stand there.

but grimmjow was much, much faster. faster than what you could comprehend. 

his movements were so high speed, you had almost thought you imagined him sitting there, because by the time you blinked out of your stupefied stare, he was gone.

but your horror was unfortunately realized. in fact, you were not hallucinating the whole ordeal, because an unpleasant, static ━almost booming noise ━ rung out in your ear, and suddenly the intruder was behind you, one hand gripping your throat with unnatural strength, cutting off vital oxygen supplies to your heart and lungs, and the other harshly gripping one of your arms to keep you still. 

“scream, and i’ll snap your arm like a fucking twig. it won’t be hard for someone like me, y’know.” you tried very hard not focus on his rough palm on your windpipe, and how easy it would be to delude yourself into a line of thinking that, had then circumstances been different and you were already acquainted with one another, this could have led to an entirely different outcome.

but, at the moment all you could do was gasp raggedly, your mind slowly falling into delirium because you couldn’t breathe. using what little space you were allowed to turn your head back towards your assailant, your eyes widened at just how ferocious he looked. he looked human, but you knew he wasn’t; the skeletal row of sharp, saber-like fangs on his right jaw and the concerningly large hole in his stomach told you that; it was unsettling. what was even scarier about him though, was that he looked a little familiar to you. why did it seem like you’ve caught a glimpse of his face before?

“stupid woman. . . leaving your doors open like that. don’t you know that you’re inviting practically any body into your home? you’re lucky that it was me, and not some creep.” he taunted you sinisterly as his grip on your neck and arm grew tighter, and now your struggle to breath became more obvious when you started to see blotches in your vision. the balance beam tipped dangerously back and forth between arousal and the fear that ran through your brain at the thought you might actually die.

“w━wh..who a-are. . . you. . .?” you had so much to say, so many questions. but you physically didn’t have any strength to voice them and oppose him, and you certainly didn’t want a broken arm.

“doesn’t matter. all you need to know is that you’re coming with me. and no, you don’t have a choice so don’t try and make a big fuss about it.” grimmjow stated tersely, not waiting for your compliance or a response. it’s not like you could speak clearly anyway. 

given with how close grimmjow was to you, your scent violently invaded his nostrils, and he couldn’t help but lean down slightly from his height and take a deep inhale into your braided hair that was tied down with a fine, silk scarf. even a barrier such as that couldn’t stop your aroma to waft into his personal space. standing from behind you he also got a good view of your cleavage in the v-cut oversized black shirt you wore, and how your nipples reacted to the cold air from outside. he had to physically stop himself from ripping your panties off, gagging you with them, and stuffing your cunt by confining your arm into a tighter grasp. you thought it would break if you even moved an inch. he figured he’d only suffocate you, since he admittedly preferred not use force on you; you’re too pretty and fragile for that. grimmjow shook his head at the fleeting thought. he hardly even acquired you for 5 minutes, and you were already permeating and changing his ideals.

a transient thought of how sexy the man behind you was, how nice his chiseled chest felt against your back flickered through your mind before you succumbed to your unconscious.

by the time you awoke, your eyes adjusted to him leaning over your horizontal figure on the surprisingly soft bed, his nose once again in the junction between your neck and collarbone. you groggily recalled him getting a good whiff of you before you lost consciousness, but it didn’t occur to you how strange it was until you saw his handsome figure hovering over you like this. you lifted your hands to touch his taut pectorals in an attempt to put some distance in between the two of you, but of course, he was big and strong and wouldn’t move that easily.

“h-hey! . . .where am i? and what the fuck are y—“

he stopped anymore protests from flowing out of your mouth by slamming his hand over your jugular, which caused a startled yelp— one that sounded too close to a mewl— to tumble past your lips. you stared at the tendrils of baby blue hair that fell across his forehead as he lifted his face to look at you.

you couldn’t even maintain eye contact for five seconds; his acute stare quickly overwhelming you on top of the flurry of thoughts that wanted to ponder on his mean, but ruggedly beautiful and proportionate face. you felt shame heat your cheeks and throughout your body at these thoughts.

“stop. . . moving. and watch your fucking mouth when talking me, woman.”

there was something about the dangerous glimmer in his eye, the tone in his voice, and the blade strapped to his hip that you just now noticed was nudging your leg, that told you not to say anything more. the longer you processed this, the longer you stared at the gaping hole in his abdomen, the longer you eyed the arrancar taking prolonged whiffs of your skin, the more frightened you became. you reminded yourself that this — none of this was normal.

you were kidnapped. taken against your will to come to a place you could only assume was the place where all these hollow creatures came from, and the only reason you even knew that was because you were so close with ichigo. you felt your heart tremble and shake against your ribcage at the very real possibility that no one knew where you were or just who took you. you weren’t even sure if anyone was currently out looking for you.

pure terror of all the unknowns running laps in your brain caused the blood in your veins to run cold and freeze over. clenching your eyes shut as if you were trying to block out the impending dread, you tried to ignore the heat that blossomed and penetrated your thinly clothed waist when grimmjow’s fingers brushed against the fabric and fully took hold of your flesh in his possessive grip. the guttural groan he let out against your shoulder caused your body to buzz in pleasure. “i don’t know what the hell it is but you smell so. . . fucking good.”

time gradually passed—you don’t even know how long since the sky always resembled midnight and you had no watch or your phone — but your mind started to move away from your friends and lifestyle back in the world of the living and became accustomed to this life as grimmjow’s. . . .human. too accustomed, in fact. you weren’t even sure what you were to him, other than the fact he was always with you to some extent. he was always there watching over you, glaring at you and whatnot, always smelling you. had your mind become so deprived of genuine human interaction that you found this behavior endearing?

perhaps.

in a way, his clinginess made you feel safe, it made you feel protected. like— if you really wanted to let your mind fall down that rabbit hole— that no harm would ever come within 5 feet of you, so as long as the sexta espada was looming over your form from behind. 

as for grimmjow, normally, he would have harshly judged people who acted this ill-composed, depraved or obsessive, but now he was no better than them with the way he acted around you. there was just. . . some element that drew him to you, like a moth to a flickering flame, and it all started when your beguiling fragrance wafted up to his height in the sky that night. he was turning into a feral animal that needed to be kept on a leash; if he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was reverting back to his pantera form.

if anybody’s gaze even so much as lingered on you for a bit too long, he would feel offended (why? he still didn’t know himself). his short temper would ultimately get the best of him, instinctively giving them a venomous “the hell you staring at? huh!?”, paired with his irritated and equally sharp glare. he’d rest a lazy hand on your hip or draped across your shoulder for good measure. 

and that’s another thing you noticed during your indefinite stay here at las noches, the name of the vast, castle-like building you’d soon discover later: grimmjow always seemed to be touching you in some shape or form. an arm across your shoulder blades, a palm on your curvy ass, a hand around your throat— usually to threaten you but you couldn’t help but be aroused and you were pretty sure he was well aware of this too— even when you slept. he quite aggressively insisted you share a bed with him, and his muscled forearm would always be perched across your torso. it wasn’t necessarily in a loving way, but more territorial. and when you’d wake up to find him closer than when you drifted off to sleep, with his nose wedged on your shoulder and a big hand encasing your breast, you couldn’t help but wish this, was a little more genuine.

and just like the animal adjuchas he was deep down, he consistently found himself to be in something of a rut, a lust-filled heat engulfing his loins whenever he looked at you, even if it was only for a second. you could be doing literally anything or just standing there, and the urge to pounce on you, to bite and lick and inhale your skin would become too strong at times. he constantly had to fight his primal temptations to shove you up against a wall or bend you over, and repeatedly piston his hips inside your tight heat — no matter who may or may not have been around. you caused his self-control and decency to deplete at alarming rates.

but, in those moments he let those impulses take over, which became increasingly intentional, it’s the most….God, you feel so many things when grimmjow has you sprawled out or spread open for him, practically in his palm and at his mercy. you could feel the possessive nature of his personality absorb you with the way his tongue danced across the canvas of your skin, and the way he gripped your hips so hard, constantly breathed your scent —like it was the only air he needed to breathe — as he drilled his hips wildly into your dripping cunt (he’d always tease you for how easily wet you get at any little, seemingly innocuous gesture he directed towards you, despite him doing it on purpose to provoke you).

out of all the positions he has, and will plan to, put you in, his favorite is most definitely back shots because he likes to watch his cock, with a scary amount of concentration and a manic smirk on his lips, impale you over and over and over again. he also loves seeing your luscious, fat ass ripple and bounce against his slender hips. “pussy so—” he’d let out a malicious chuckle and growl before roughly planting a heavy palm on your fleshy mound, the sound resonating throughout the spacious room, “—so fuckin’ good…all this time, before i even came and got you, you were keeping her tight for me, weren’t you? yeaaaah, fuck yeah you were princess. this cunt was practically made for me, just asking to be ruined.”

he’d say the filthiest words you’d ever heard when he had your back arched in the shape of a parenthesis. missionary admittedly always did it for him too, just so he can watch your face scrunch up in overwhelming pleasure and good hear you whining his name without the buffer of the blankets beneath you. and when he’d push your thighs all the way back to feast because he was hungry? you swear you lose your vision and see stars, practically ascending to the heavens when grimmy is devouring your cunt. it really shouldn’t turn you on so much when he takes a moment to unlatch from your twitching pearl of nerves, your slick sticking to his chin, just so he can smell you while he plunged his appendages in and out of your folds. he’d always edge you like this, and you hated it, but your whiny protests were dragged back down your throat and exchanged for a moan when he landed an abrasive slap on your thigh and muttered a gruff, “shut the fuck up, brat,” against your dripping sex.

he would be seconds away from cumming in his pants untouched when he treated himself to that first whiff. you’d be so embarrassed by it at first,but would soon enjoy it as much as he does; he basically corrupted you by thrusting his own lewd fantasies onto you and implanting them in your psyche. the sixth espada gets so drunk on the taste of you and the natural perfume of your pussy, he could stay down there for hours, until you passed out from the pleasure or physically couldn’t orgasm anymore. you’d have to hit him on the head to get him to come up for some air. even when you were on your period— some bloody human thing, he’d call it— didn’t stop him from effectively eating you alive.

grimmjow would soon come to the realization one night when he was balanced on his forearms on top of you, languidly rolling his pelvis in and out—with that slight upward motion that made your eyes roll to the back of your skull—that this, that you, were all he needed. nothing, not fighting any of his ‘comrades’ or enemies, not devouring other unfortunate souls, not the thought of getting stronger, could measure up to the way your palms grasped at his brawny, taut back, the way your voice got all high-pitched and soft, crying about how you “need more, i-i need you, love yo—oooh, fuck, yes!!”, and how your intangible essence surrounded and swallowed up his very soul.

as his thrusts grew deeper, faster and more mind-numbing, he decided that ‘yeah, this is it’. being inside you and taking pleasure in invading your mind, body and heart was it for him, he couldn’t ask for more. he knew he’d do just about anything for you if you just asked or bat those long, dramatic lashes at him. he hesitantly admitted himself that you were more powerful than he originally thought you were, because only you were able to make him come undone to such a staggering degree and reshape his disposition, even if it was only a little bit, and only for you to witness.

maybe humans weren’t that weak.