If you weren’t aware, I’m deeply in love with Grimmjow and I needed something domestic for him :)))))
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Early on in your relationship, Grimmjow never necessarily said no to your touch. But he always acted like he hated it. You’d slide your hand into his when the two of you were walking side-by-side, and he’d glance down at it like it was an anomaly.
“Tch. You’re real handsy today,” he muttered once, after you laced your fingers with his.
You just smiled, “I always am.”
Although he complained, he didn’t let go. Didn’t even try. And that was how it always went.
You’d stroke the hair at the nape of his neck when he was sitting beside you on the couch. He’d grunt like you were bothering him, maybe roll his eyes, but he’d tip his head back into your hand without realizing, half-lidded eyes and relaxed jaw giving him away completely, until he noticed your smile.
“Don’t get cocky,” he’d snap, cheeks pink. “I’m just tired.”
Rightttt. Tired.
You would just turn yourself back to what you were watching, not wanting to ruin the moment, “Of course.”
He just wasn’t used to affection. You could tell by the way his muscles always tensed under your touch, how he held his breath the first few seconds when you wrapped your arms around his waist. As if waiting for the impact of some unseen blow.
But slowly, in his own weird way, he started showing you affection back. It came out awkward and clumsy, buried under growls and scowls. Sometimes he’d thump his forehead into your shoulder and sit there for a while, quiet and warm like a tired animal claiming his spot, but would grumble if you would make a peep about it. Or when you were lying together, he’d press his face into the back of your neck, no kisses, no words. Just presence. You’d shift a little, adjusting so his chin rested against your shoulder instead. Then, without warning, you turned your head and gave him a small kiss on his temple. He flinched. Froze. Pulled back an inch like you’d slapped him.
“Wh—what the hell was that for?” he barked, voice sharp but a little too high. You smiled to yourself. “Felt like it.”
His jaw ticked. His face was already going red, and he was clearly trying to scowl through the heat crawling up his ears. He huffed like he was mad, “keep your lips off of me…”
Then promptly buried his face deeper into your shoulder. Not just resting this time, nuzzling. The bridge of his nose brushing up along your jaw, cheek pressing against yours like it was the only place he could be comfortable. “…You’re such a pain in the ass,” he mumbled, the words muffled against your skin. His arms settled around your waist, loose at first, then tighter, like he was daring you to say anything about it. You didn’t. And he didn’t move. Little things like this went on for awhile, but eventually, he was beginning to adjust.
He was used to you clinging to him like a baby possum now. Whether you were latched onto his arm, curled against his side, or casually toying with the ends of his hair while talking to someone else, he didn’t swat you away like he used to.
The growling hadn’t stopped, sure. But the twitching, the jerking back, the defensive tailspin? That had all simmered into begrudging tolerance.
One evening, the two of you ended up at Urahara’s shop.
It wasn’t anything formal, just a casual evening with Yoruichi and the “hat man”, drinks passed around, music playing low in the background. You sat curled next to Grimmjow on the floor like always, tucked into his side, while he leaned back against the wall with that usual I hate everyone here scowl.
You reached over to grab the bottle on the low table and poured him another glass, careful not to spill. Grimmjow side-eyed you but didn’t say anything, just picked up the cup and downed it in one go.
“You spoil him,” Yoruichi said, swirling her own drink.
“She’s domesticated him,” Urahara chimed in, grin peeking out from behind his fan. “It’s only fair she tops off his glass like a good housewife.”
Grimmjow immediately stiffened. “I ain’t nobody’s husband,” he snapped.
You just poured yourself a shot while smirking. “Awww!~ you don’t wanna marry me?~” you faked a sob, “I’m hurt!”
“Tch, shut up woman…” he muttered, grabbing your shot from your hand and taking it himself without a second thought, as if that would somehow cancel out your flirting.
Urahara let out a soft chuckle, leaning slightly toward Yoruichi. “It’s textbook exposure therapy, really. Repeated contact until the subject stops growling.”
Grimmjow froze mid-sip. He jerked turned his head to glare at Urahara—murder in his eyes. Urahara just smiled wider, fan hiding half his face. “We’re making real progress.”
Grimmjow smacked his teeth, “Don’t test me, hat man.”
Urahara let out a soft chuckle before turning his attention to you, topping off another drink for you before you could do it yourself. “ Now now, Careful,” he said, watching you with that mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You’re already getting red.”
“I’m fine,” you said, waving him off with your newly refilled glass. “I can keep up.”
“You really can’t,” Yoruichi teased, already leaning on her elbow like she was expecting a show.
Now Grimmjow could hold his liquor, you’ve seen him down a bottle and still be able to take you both home.
You? Not so much.
By your third glass, you were already giggly. By the fourth, you’d migrated into Grimmjow’s space completely, legs tossed over his lap, head against his chest, fingers lazily drawing circles into the muscle of his forearm like it was your favorite canvas.
He hadn’t told you to stop. If anything, he’d gone suspiciously still. His face was just slightly pink. Just a little warm. Nothing outrageous.
But your eyes were half-lidded now, the alcohol making your body feel slow and warm and bold.
You looked over at Urahara and Yoruichi, who at this point, were arguing about god knows what, obviously not worried about you two. So you looked up at him with a soft, drunk little smile, reached up—
—and gently tugged his face down to yours.
Grimmjow blinked. “What’re you—”
And then you kissed him.
Not a peck. Not one of your usual teasing cheek kisses. A real, lingering kiss. Soft lips pressed to his, one hand sliding down his chest to his waist while the other held onto the back of his neck. He tensed for half a second… then sank into it.
His hand found your waist. His eyes fluttered shut. You could feel it in the way he kissed you back: tentative, searching, just a little desperate. Like he didn’t want to admit how much he needed it.
“WOOOOOO!”
Yoruichi practically cheered.
Urahara clapped like he was at a wedding.
Grimmjow’s eyes snapped open.
He pushed you back like you’d caught on fire, shoving you off his lap and onto the cushion beside him before jumping to his feet— nearly flipping the table.
Urahara didn’t miss a beat.
“Ahh, I see the exposure therapy is working!” he exclaimed, howling with laughter, practically wheezing behind his fan and slapping his knee.
Grimmjow pointed at him like he was choosing his next victim.
“You wanna go, old man?!” he snapped, teeth bared, whole face burning red. “Say that shit again— I dare you!”
Yoruichi leaned back, holding her stomach with how hard she was laughing. “You liked it! You even closed your eyes for a second— ”
“Keep runnin’ your mouth and see how fast I shut it!!”
Urahara waved his fan in amusement, teasing, “Classic case of overcorrection. First the kiss, then the flight response. He’s panicking.”
Grimmjow actually lunged.
You caught his shirt mid-charge, yanking him back down with surprising strength for a giggling drunk. He hit the cushion beside you with a grunt, jaw tight and eyes still locked on Urahara like he hadn’t fully decided not to commit murder.
“Grimmjowww~,” you whined playfully, climbing right back into his lap like he hadn’t just tried to launch you across the room. “drink your damn sake and stop threatening people.”
He stared at you like you were insane, but you handed him a fresh cup anyway. His eye twitched before begrudgingly taking it, knocking it back in one go.
You leaned into him again, grinning against his neck.
“…I hate you,” he muttered. But his arms went around you anyway.
Not tight. Just enough to keep you from falling out of his lap. He turned slightly, facing away from the others so they couldn’t see the furious blush creeping up his ears, down his neck, across the very tip of his nose.
“Don’t say a word,” he hissed sensing eyes on him, mostly at Urahara.
“I think this counts as another step in his exposure therapy,” Urahara said cheerfully.
Grimmjow let out the loudest, most exasperated sigh in the history of Arrancar-kind, and buried his face in your shoulder.
You’re not sure why you picked the dark red lipstick. Maybe you wanted to feel bold, maybe you wanted to impress the hot headed espada waiting at your door. Either way, it’s something he’s never seen you wear before, and you’re excited to see his reaction, if he has one at all that is.
It worked better than you ever imagined.
The moment you open the door, Grimmjow’s eyes drop straight to your mouth, turquoise gaze locked there like you’ve trapped him in some kind of spell. You can almost feel the way his stare glides along the edges of your lips, slow and deliberate, heating every inch of your skin.
You step back to let him in, but he doesn’t follow right away. He stands in your doorway, broad shoulders filling the frame, his chest rising and falling just a little faster than normal.
“You gonna come in?” you tease, voice softer than you mean it to be.
His eyes flick up to yours, dark and hungry. “What the hell is that?”
You blink. “Lipstick?”
He moves then, closing the distance in a few sure steps. When he stops in front of you, you can feel the heat radiating off his body. His hand lifts, knuckles brushing your jaw before his thumb drags lightly across your bottom lip, smudging a little of the color.
“It looks good,” he murmurs, voice pitched low. “Makes me wanna see how it tastes.”
Your breath catches. The challenge in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, “Come here and find out.”
His pupils blow wide, turquoise rim swallowed by black. For a heartbeat, you both hover there, suspended in that taut anticipation. Then he growls low in his throat and his hands slide around your waist, claiming your mouth with a kiss that’s all heat and urgency.
You gasp into him, lips parting under the rough,sensual drag of his mouth. He doesn’t care that the dark red smears across both your faces, doesn’t notice how your lipstick paints the corners of his mouth and stains the edge of his jaw. His arm reaches us to wrap around the back of your neck, pulling you flush against him until there’s no space left to think. The kiss is intimate, tongues wrap around each other, tasting the others mouth. It feels as if he’s devouring your soul through your lips, drawing a satisfied moan from your throat.
When you finally break for air, you’re both breathing hard, chests pressed close. He doesn’t let you move far. His thumb strokes over the sensitive spot behind your ear, and his gaze is dazed, like he’s still lost somewhere in the taste of you.
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up as you look at his mouth. “Oh my god—”
He blinks, scowling in confusion. “What?”
You swipe your thumb along his lower lip, smearing the deep red even further before showing him, “You look like you tried to eat me alive.”
His grin is slow and wicked. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”
You try to wipe it away with your thumb, but the lipstick only smudges wider, staining the corner of his mouth and the curve of his cheek. You dissolve into helpless giggles.
“Stay still,” you say between laughs. “I have something…”
You reach into your bag, rummaging past your wallet and keys until your fingers close around the little pack of makeup wipes. When you pull one free, Grimmjow lifts a brow. Your hand cups his jaw as you gently start to clean the smudged red from his skin. He watches you the whole time, gaze heavy-lidded, like he can’t decide if he wants to let you finish or kiss you again.
When you swipe the last streak from his cheek, you feel the way he leans into your touch, the tiniest hitch in his breath as your fingers skim along his mask fragment. For a moment, neither of you speaks. The air feels thick with something you don’t dare name yet.
“You know,” he says finally, his voice low and rough, “you look too damn good in that color.”
Your chest tightens, your heart beating a little too fast.
His mouth tilts in a crooked grin. “Gonna look even better with it all over my dick.”
You let out a small, shocked laugh and slap his chest, but before you can scold him, he catches your wrist in his hand. He leans forward once more, and when his mouth meets yours this time, it isn’t rough. It’s unhurried, deep, savoring. His lips mold to yours in a way that made you forget why you were ever going to leave the apartment in the first place.
By the time he finally lifts his head, your breath is coming in shallow bursts. He lingers so close your lips still brush when he speaks, voice deep and ragged:
“Forget dinner.”
He immediately picks you up by your waist, making you wrap your legs around him instinctively as he carries you back up the stairs.
Although it was a Saturday morning, it was unusually quiet in the house, except for the low hum of the kettle heating on the stove and the faint chirp of birds outside the window.
You stirred in the warm cocoon of your bed, lazily stretching your legs out beneath the tangle of heavy blankets. Your fingers reached across the mattress instinctively, seeking the familiar sprawl of muscle and warmth beside you.
Gone.
A sleepy pout touched your lips. However, it immediately turned into a soft smile once you heard light footsteps padding across the wood floor and the subtle clink of a mug against the counter.
Grimmjow.
You could already feel the way the room seemed to hum when he was near. Like static in the air, electric but oddly soothing. The last few months had been… a strange adjustment. Having him here, in this space that was once entirely yours. Now, his presence was stitched into every corner. His scent lingered on your pillow, his clothes draped haphazardly over the chair, his boots always by the door like he couldn’t be bothered to line them up properly. Such subtle things that, at this point, if they were gone, the entire home would be covered with an emptiness. So, you wouldn’t change a damn thing about it.
You sat up slowly, pulling one of his old shirts over your shoulders and made your way into the kitchen.
The sight that greeted you nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.
Grimmjow stood by the stove, shirtless, low-slung sweatpants riding his hips in a way that should be illegal. His hair was a wild mess of blue, still damp from an early shower. In one hand, he held a chipped mug of coffee, and in the other… a battered spatula, poking rather violently at a pan of eggs that looked both overcooked and under-stirred.
He hadn’t noticed you yet.
His brows were drawn together in deep concentration, jaw clenched tight, the faintest growl of frustration rumbling in his throat. He was trying. The sight of this lethal, sharp-edged man, known to tear apart enemies without a blink, utterly perplexed by scrambled eggs was… heartbreakingly endearing.
You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, a lazy smile tugging at your lips.“if you fought as bad as you cooked, you definitely wouldn be dead by now,” you teased softly.
Grimmjow’s head snapped up. His wild gaze met yours—startled, then defensive, then something softer flickering beneath the ice.
“Tch, whatever,” he muttered, stabbing at the eggs with renewed vigor. “Ain’t like you were up to do it.”
You pushed off the doorframe and padded toward him, wrapping your arms around his bare waist from behind. The heat of his skin bled into yours, warm and solid. He stilled for a beat, the tension in his shoulders melting the second he felt your touch.
“Mmm… you’re up early.” You nuzzled into his back, inhaling the faint scent of soap and smoke that always clung to him.
“Couldn’t sleep. Too fuckin’ quiet without ya movin’ around.”
Your heart clenched at how easily he said things like this now. Months ago, Grimmjow would’ve spat and denied he gave a damn about your absence. Now he admitted it freely, not even bothering to hide the rough affection in his voice.
You pressed a few kisses between his shoulder blades, earning a soft grunt from him.
“I like waking up to you here,” you murmured.
“Hmph. You better,” he said, smirking faintly. “Ain’t goin’ anywhere anytime soon.”
Grimmjow set the spatula down and turned in your arms, picking you up and setting you down on the kitchen island. He placed his hips right between your thighs, his eyes sweeping over your tousled appearance. You felt his rough fingers brush beneath your chin, tilting your face up.
“Look at ya,” he rasped. “All soft in the mornin’. I could eat you up instead of this damn food.”
Heat pooled low in your belly.
“I wouldn’t mind.”
A low, playful grin spread across his lips. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that started rough—teeth grazing, breath hot—but melted into something deep and slow. His hand tangled in your hair, the other anchoring your waist possessively.
You broke away breathless, fingers clutching at his arms.
“Grimm—your eggs,” you gasped between kisses. The skillet started to burn, causing smoke to rise to the ceiling.
“Fuck the eggs,” he growled against your neck. “I got better things to taste.”
You laughed, the sound spilling bright and unguarded in the kitchen. And oh, how he looked at you when you laughed—like he wanted to pin the sound to his chest and keep it there.
But still, you gently pressed your palm against his chest, firm enough to make him stop—though not without a reluctant scowl. You hopped down off of the counter and threw the definitely burned eggs away.
“Later,” you promised, voice low and teasing. “Let’s actually eat first. Then you can devour me all you want.”
Grimmjow grunted, but willing to play your game.
“Fine. But you’re makin’ the damn eggs this time.”
You chuckled, swiping a kiss off the corner of his mouth.
“You don’t have to do anything but keep your shirt off.”
Ngllll i needed some Grimmjow fluff T^T !! work has been hard and tiresome UGH. Grimmjow is just a man (he might be a little OOC here and honestly? Who gafs) this is all fluff there really isn’t any NSFW themes (unless you count convincing him with your tatas to join you then there’s that) BUT ANYWHO—
It’s Late evening. Urahara’s private bathhouse. The water’s hot and fogged over, steam curling in lazy ribbons around stone pillars. Lanterns flicker low against wet tile walls. You’ve spent all day training and preparing for this Quincy war and you honestly just needed a nice hot bath. So after begggginggg Hatman to let you use his nice luxury bath, he gave you the keys. You decided to drag Grimmjow along to enjoy it with you—with Urahara’s permission, of course. You’ve been working together a lot lately, and while neither of you has said anything outright, the tension’s been building. Lingering looks. Offhand compliments that come out a little too rough to be casual. Constant, casual touches that neither of you pull away from. It’s not exactly subtle, and honestly? Everyone around you has probably figured it out before you have.
He stands at the edge of the water, arms crossed over his chest, scowling like you just asked him to kiss a priest.
“This is fucking stupid.”
You sink deeper into the steaming pool, stretching your arms over the edge like a satisfied cat.
“Your back is one massive knot, your shoulder’s bruised, and I literally saw you limping. Get in.”
He grumbles something under his breath but doesn’t move.
“Grimmjow. I will drag you in.”
“Tch. Try it woman.”
You raise an eyebrow.
Then slowly, casually… you rise from the water. It rolls off your skin, and the steam clings to every curve. You grabbed your towel before he could see anything private, but the tiny towel doesn’t cover up as much as you’d like, meaning the tops of your breasts are exposed, right above your nipple. As you walk toward him, dripping wet and feeling somewhat shy, His eyes drop. They stay there.
You stop just in front of him, reach out, and tug his arm.
“What’re you—”
“Trying,” you say sheepishly. He pulls his arm back causing you to fall forward, pressing your breasts against his scarred and tone chest. He looks down at you with the most surprised expression, his face becoming flushed.
He lets you pull him in.
Grumbling. Rolling his neck. He sits with his arms draped on the stone edge, head lulled back with his eyes closed. He’s obviously enjoying himself. After a few minutes of soaking, you couldn’t help but stare at his expression. He still has his usual scowl, but it just appears… softer. His eyebrows aren’t as furrowed and his lips sit in a straight line. you’re compelled to reach out and caress his face, but decide to visually appreciate it instead; don’t wanna mess up a once in a lifetime chance to see a gentle Grimmjow.
You shift beside him, hoping to get closer without distracting him. The water ripples. He opens one eye.
“You still starin’?”
You blink, caught red-handed. His voice is gravelly, rough around the edges, but not sharp. Just… dry. Lazy. Relaxed.
You shrug and send him a genuine smile, “just appreciating.”
He opens his other eye now, head still tilted back but turning just enough to look at you. That one sharp blue eye studies your face for a second. Then?
He huffs a faint breath, almost a laugh.
“Tch. Do what you want.”
You move closer, letting your shoulder barely brush his side under the water. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t lean away. His fingers twitch slightly on the edge of the stone, but that’s all.
“Didn’t know you could relax,” you tease gently, voice lower now. “Thought you were always two seconds away from exploding.”
He snorts. “Still am. Just too hot in here to care.”
Silence settles between you again, comfortable this time. You both stare ahead, steam curling into the air, water shifting around you with the quiet rise and fall of your breath.
Then, softer:
“…You look good like this,” you say.
He turns his head again, eyes narrowing slightly. “Like what?”
You smile without looking at him. “Content.”
There’s a pause.
Then you feel it—his fingers brushing your hair. Twirling it around Just once. Barely there. But it’s enough.
He mutters, almost as if he was embarrassed to say it. Like he didn’t want you to hear it even though you’re only a foot away from him.
“Its because I’m with you.”
Your breath catches. Just for a second.
You don’t say anything else.
You just let your hand fall on his thigh under the water and lean a little closer—basking in the steam, the silence, and the rare moment where Grimmjow lets the world fall away, just long enough to let you in.
The air is thick with heat, some from the bath, most from everything unsaid between you.
Then you feel it again—his fingers brushing your hair, then your cheek. Slower this time. A little braver.
He’s looking at you fully now. No smirk. No scowl. Just quiet focus. Like he’s trying to memorize every inch of your face while he has the nerve.
“C’mere,” he mutters.
You don’t even need to move. You’re already close, sitting under his arm.
But you shift forward anyway, the water curling around both of you as your legs brush, your bodies lined up too easily.
You don’t speak.
You just tilt your chin up—and he meets you halfway.
His lips brush yours.
Soft. Careful. Testing.
both of your eyes are barely open. His half-lidded gaze sends fire down your spine. He’s watching so intensely. Looking for any sign or expression that says ‘I don’t want this.’
Then he kisses you. Firm. Slow.
It’s nothing like the fierce, chaotic kisses you imagined from him. Just desire and longing and the hum of something real blooming quietly between you.
His hand cups your jaw, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Your fingers tighten slightly on his thigh. Your breath hitches against his mouth.
When you finally pull back, you both hover there for a second, foreheads nearly touching.
No teasing. No sarcasm. Just the pulse of your heart in your throat and the ghost of his lips still lingering on yours.
“Took you long enough,” you whisper.
He smirks—just a little.
“Didn’t wanna screw it up.”
And you both laugh, quiet and breathless, tucked in the steam and silence of a moment only meant for the two of you.
﹒✶﹒On the 12th day of Christmas my true love came in me﹒✶﹒
G R I M M J O W x R E A D E R
8.4k
Warning: +18 only, Smut, sexual content, steamy, naughty, crack, humour, and the rest you will have to unwrap at your own risk my lovelies. Unwrap in order because there is a flow. NOT FULLY PROOFREAD
┈─★ Merry Fuck-mas. TO: This is for all you Grimmjow hornys out there. Especially you @kryptoniteforsale I wrote this specifically with you in mind. I know it’s long so unwrap each day at your own pace. But unwrap in the order posted.
Merry Christmas and happy holidays my friends.
Day 1: Christmas Lights
Grimmjow growled when he tripped on wires while you were pulling Christmas lights out of the storage boxes. This was his first Christmas with you and he was already hating the fact that it was more work than all the excitement that surrounded this festive day which was only 12 days away.
He mumbled and grumbled and fumbled as he untangled his ankles. He much rather be swinging his sword around and causing chaos within his sight. But instead he was stuck celebrating the month of December with his human partner. The demeaning shit he had to endure to appease you. So you better appreciate him!
I don’t know if you would call it appreciation when you are laughing your lungs out, cackling until your ribs creak. You pull out your phone and take a picture to send to Ichigo IMMEDIATELY before the humour wears off.
Grimmjow just gave you a side glare once he finished untangling and went to grab for your phone. Both of you are now on the floor surrounded by storage bins and Christmas lights.
You quickly pulled your hand away and your phone out of reach. He didn’t just growl this time. He roared as he pounced forward to pin your body down on the hardwood floor of your lobby.
You gasp as you didn’t expect his entire weight to come down on you like a bag of bricks as he practically body slams you. You wince and squirm from beneath him but he didn’t care because his goal was to get your phone and delete that embarrassing picture.
His eyes flashed in anger when he saw Ichigo’s message notification ‘Ha ha what a dumbass’, indicating that you had already sent him the picture.
Grimmjow’s nostrils were flaring and he was tired of your little pranks and teases. His pride was shattered and he had to get you back and torment you the same way you tormented him. Suddenly his teeth gritting stopped and his jaw relaxed as he laid on top of you. And the corner of his lips twitched and there it was….that fuckn half grin that had you falling head over heels for him. The shit-head was about to make a complete mess out of you. And you invited it.
What you didn’t expect was him to get creative. A damn Picasso you had on your hands here. He stripped you naked and tied your arms and legs up with the lights but in a very meticulous way. This hack-and-slash type of guy actually put some thought into this piece of artwork. The lights were gracefully wrapped up and around the circumference of your legs, waist, torso and finally your arms. There was also a little hint of edge play where the cord even wrapped snugly around your neck, so close to choking you.
You felt an uncomfortable tug when he went to plug in the cord. Suddenly you lit up like a Christmas tree. A grin of satisfaction played on his face and he eagerly went to grab your phone. He let the camera do all the talking, taking pictures at different angles and even close-ups of your wet pussy and exposed breasts.
“Damn hot. Who should be the first to get these?”, he threatened while flashing you a cocky smirk, rubbing the fact that he finally had an upper hand on you.
He tilted his head, observing his masterpiece and realizing his Christmas Tree was incomplete. He started rummaging through the boxes and pulled out a gold star, which he shoved into your hands that were tied above your head.
And you would think he was done. Nope. While still holding the phone in one hand, his other hand unzipped his pants and he pulled out his semi-limp cock. It took a few strokes and a lovely view in front to get him throbbing and ready.
He untied your ankles and aligned himself perfectly between your thighs. With a groan and moan from both, his length disappeared between your eager folds.
“Fuck ya! Stuffing some presents under the tree babe!”, he joked while recording himself pounding away into your sorry little pussy.
Day 2: Baking Cookies
“Grimmjow~ Let’s bake Christmas cookies!”
All you wanted was to create some sweet memories as you baked cookies together. Initially, he showed no interest. But he finally agreed if you fulfilled his one request: you wear nothing but an apron in the kitchen.
You rolled your eyes and began to peel away all your clothes and he just stood there, hungrily staring, drooling from the sight. In his eyes, you WERE the freshly baked treat that just came out of the oven. He was ready to devour.
You tightened the apron around your bare waist and began to read off the ingredients. Grimmjow retrieved the said ingredients from the pantry and fridge. He placed them on the countertop and stood behind you, annoyingly breathing down your neck. You can already tell the cookies won’t end up in the oven.
-
“Gr-Grrimmjow can you pl-pleas st-stop”, you moaned, your knees ready to buckle.
Of course he couldn’t keep his hands off you. He was sitting on the floor infront of you, face buried between your legs. His tongue was already deep inside your pussy walls, exploring and tasting. His one hand resting on your thigh and the other teasing the hard engorged pearl that was twitching like it was bewitched.
“You won’t let me lick -slurp- the batter so I am -slurp- licking the other batter. Much sweeter. Juicy. Mmmm”, he lapped away the juices that flowed from the excitement. You shivered and dropped the whisk into the mixing bowl. Your hands grip the kitchen countertop for stability, your legs shake and your vision goes white. Your pussy flutters around his tongue and he eventually gets the juicy delight he was craving for. His own eyes roll to the back of his head as he worships your pussy over and over again, overstimulating you until you end up on the floor and his dick buried deep inside your sore hole.
Day 3: Cutting a Tree
“Grimmjow I don’t want the big one! It won’t fit in our tiny little house!”
“Then get a damn big house! I want this one!”, he rebutted stubbornly. It was either his way or the highway. You take a deep inhale, the resinous scent of pine and fir anchoring you down before you grab the axe and start chasing your crazy man down the tree lot.
“Whatever. Here knock it….GRIMMJOW!!!” You were about to hand him the axe but your rebellious Arrancar pulled out his sword and gave it a single swing. You heard a creaking sound and a thud. It happened so fast where you had no chance to intercept. But then again intercepting Grimmjow while he is swinging his sword around ain’t a smart idea.
“Pffft you won’t catch me holding that twig”, he laughed while pointing to your axe.
You sigh and let him slowly gather up the tree. Luckily it was the middle of the night and no one was around to see the supernatural madness that was your partner single handed carrying a giant Christmas tree over his head.
You were right! The tree was huge and took up most of the space in your living room. You had to rearrange furniture to squish in the branches. Even had to trim the top. But you know what, small problems. Small problems and deep breaths!
You got out the ornaments and started decorating your new tree. He did not have the patience nor the fine-motor skills to gently place the ornaments on the branches. Instead, he opted for handing you the shiny sparkly round spheres, observing his reflection in them in awe. You giggle at his cat-like behaviour.
Once the ornaments were all up, you tried looking for the star. You remember he was playing with it just the other day when he had you all tangled up in the lights. You decide you will look for it later and for now, admire the pretty tree you put together with your special person.
“You forgot these ornaments”, he said as he walked behind you.
You thought you got them all but maybe there were still a few in the box he missed. You extend out your hand for him to place an orb on the palm of your hand. Instead, he grabbed the bottom of your hoodie and gathered it up towards your neck. You let out a surprised gasp when the cold hair hits your bare stomach. And when you are about to question his lewd actions, he proceeds to pull up your bra and give your ‘orbs’ the freedom they deserve.
“Looks like the tree is out of space. I guess I will just hold them in my hand for ya”, he grinned. He was standing behind you, holding your breasts in each hand while he grinds himself into the small of your back.
“Grimmjow honestly, so lame”, you finally relax in his hands and start laughing.
“Ya ya laugh now. Because you will be crying soon”, he warned while fondling his favourite two ornaments and his hips dry humping away against your ass.
“Careful boy. Don’t want to cream your pants while playing with your toys”, you challenged him.
“Na….that cream belongs somewhere more special”. He lowered your pants and panties with one hand while still holding your breasts in the other. Your hand reached behind, massaging the front of his crotch and feeling the outline of his erection through the fabric of his pants.
And cream he did inside his special little cavern. The sound of skin slapping and your moans and his groans outdid the crackling sounds coming from the lit fireplace. The obscene scene played 20-30 times through the reflection of the shiny orbs that hung ever so gracefully on the branches of the tree.
“Look at my special ornaments dancing”, he whispered into your ears as he pounded himself into you from behind, filling you up over and over again until your insides were overflowing.
Day 4: Mall santa
Ok, you were hesitant about this. Knowing Grimmjow’s ever-so-pleasant personality and people’s-skill, despite your better judgment you dragged him to the mall to grab a picture with Santa. Thankfully it was early in the season so the mall did not carry the hustle and bustle and the holiday madness just yet.
“Grimmjow. You just have to stand behind the chair and smile. Don’t say or do anything. Ok?”, you explained to him. It was like telling a child how to behave before heading out somewhere.
“Ya ya! Stop nagging”, he growled with his hands in his pocket. He rather be sleeping on the couch than be overstimulated with all the flashing lights and cheerful humans flaring fake smiles at him. Oh, the itch to just claw their faces off when they tell him to have a ‘merry Christmas’.
Grimmjow realized he had to stand in the line to take a damn photo with some jolly old man. Grimmjow did not do well with lines and waiting, especially with people elbowing him and children wailing.
“Are human children so weak? Scared of a fat old man giving out candy?”, he whispered into your ears.
“Oh I peed my pants when I sat on his lap as a child. He looks terrifying when you are 3. But that is part of the Christmas spirit I guess…wait”. You stopped yourself. Not only did you reveal one of your most embarrassing childhood moments but you also admitted that being traumatized and terrified as a child is part of the Christmas spirit. Children hate it but parents still drag their kids to the mall just to get that perfect shot. Doesn’t make sense.
“Haha, you pissed your pants. You gonna do that again?”, he asked and you just jabbed your elbow in his ribs.
Finally it was your turn. Grimmjow realized you were going to sit on the old man’s lap. His mate was going to sit on some other man’s lap! Realization hit late because he was already standing behind the chair and you were on santa’s lap. You gave a side glance up at him and noticed his nostrils flaring and wrinkles on his forehead and taut jaw. Fuck! Take the picture quickly! You begged the photographer with your eyes.
You flinch when a hand reaches your soft ass. It was the damn perverted Santa feeling you out. Your eyes are wide in shock and Grimmjow could see it play out perfectly at his angle. His ‘protect my mate’ instinct kicked in and he reached to grab the man’s wrist. You jumped off Santa’s lap and before Grimmjow broke any bones, you grabbed his arm and started pulling him away. “Don’t make a scene. Please”, you pleaded. Grimmjow did let go of the man’s wrist but not before sucker punching the man in the face and taking his hat and beard off.
All chaos breaks loose. Kids are screaming, terrified knowing Santa was a fake old dirty man and his nose was now busted open. You take Grimmjow's hand and dart out of the mall, leaving the frantic scene behind.
What a nightmare! One of those moments that you will look back on and laugh at. But not today.
-
You are unwinding down on your couch with your laptop balancing on your thighs. Guess who comes troting about to disrupt your inner peace.
“Whatcha doing!” He asks, clearly bored out of his mind and demanding some attention.
“Writing a formal complaint to the mall about that gross man”, you reply without looking up from your screen.
“Should’ve just let me claw him up”, he offered. Violence was the solution to everything!
“This ain’t Hueco Mundo. Can’t have you slicing people’s heads off if they offend you. We have laws and jurisdictions and procedure in place”, you explain although no point in doing so. You look up at him and realized he was wearing the Santa hat he snatched from that Santa at the mall.
“Ew. I wouldn’t put that on. Don’t know where it’s been”, you eye that hat that sat so well around his cranium. He actually looked adorable with his messy blue hair sticking out from underneath.
Grimmjow just grinned and sat next to you on the couch. He grabbed the laptop from your lap and set it aside and pushed you on his lap instead. “Your ass touched a dirty old man. You don’t know where that hand and lap has been either”, he said with a cocky ass smirk.
“Ew ew! I need a shower!” You squirm around in his lap to pull away and get that filthy thought off you. But his grip around your waist was tight.
“Mmm you like the Santa’s lap don’t ya. Maybe you should give this one a ride and see if it makes you piss”, he chuckled.
Your face is red and hot. You can’t believe you told him your most embarrassing moments and he was already using it to his sexual advantage!
Alas, you fell for his charms and flirtatious attempts. You rode him well while he supported nothing but that dirty Santa hat on his head. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your hips bouncing and circling around his length.
“That’s it. Milk Santa’s cock babe. Nice and slow”, he cheered you on. His hips came up to match your thrusts and it didn’t take long for him to make a squirting mess out of you.
“Ya squirt that stuff all over Santa’s cock”, he celebrated while pumping you with his own warm release.
Day 5: Breakfast with friends
By day 5, you are waddling. Your legs and pussy are sore from all the rough sex. You go to bed thinking you tired him out but you woke up this morning and he took another go at you. And it doesn’t help that you are ovulating. He can smell it, taste it and damn your horny as well. So you just endure it for your own satisfaction.
“So what eventful day do you have lined up for us?”, he asked while getting dressed.
“SHIT! We have a double date with Ichigo!”, you yelled and frantically began to grab your clothes from the closet. You had no time to shower and had to run out the door.
You heard a low growl of disappointment from Grimmjow and he began to drag his ass back to bed. He plopped onto his stomach, half dressed and protested.
“Oh come on! It’s because of them we are together. Be grateful”, you walk towards him while squeezing into a dress and slap his bare ass.
“Nope!”. You know by now Grimmjow is stubborn.
“Grimmjow. Please. What do you want?” Bribing generally works.
Although he took the bait, you were the one who fell into his net trap.
He had you back on the bed, your legs spread open and he was shoving a small egg shaped sex toy up your creamy pussy.
“Babe at least clean it out first!”, you begged. His early morning cum was still trickling out of your hole.
“Nah. It’s lubrication and part of the fun”, he chuckled and pulled your panties up to your waist to secure everything in place.
And so the fun begins.
-
You are extra squirmy today. You are mindlessly forking your pancakes, trying to fight the urge to come. Grimmjow is sitting beside you at the restaurant, Orihime and Ichigo sitting across from you two. Thankfully they didn’t bring their little nightmare of a kid along with them.
“Is the pancake not yummy? Try some hot sauce! It makes it extra delicious”, Orihime suggested. As usual, an awful suggestion. But you had no energy to respond to her disgusting tasteless suggestions because you were at the verge of cumming. One hand gripping onto the table, the other went under the table to pinch Grimmjow’s thigh.
Grimmjow just gave a side smirk and turned the intensity down from his smart phone. You let out a sigh of relief and finally looked up at the couple who looked concerned.
“Cramps”, you lied. But they both ate it.
The rest of the double date breakfast was a blur. You couldn’t focus and you definitely had no appetite. Grimmjow just messed around with the intensity, unexpectedly cranking it up and as you were in tears and about to cum, he would lower it back down. At this point, you were just desperate to cum, hoping that would satisfy his fetish but also get rid of that heat in your stomach.
Want to cum babe? He texted.
Yes pleaseeee You texted back.
Grimmjow cranked up the intensity and leaned forward to hug you. To outsiders, it probably looked like a very very bad cramp in full effect and a supportive partner trying to soothe away your aches and pain. You muffled your moans by burying your face into his chest, your body convulsed within his embrace and your mind went numb for a few seconds. You came hard, feeling your own release leaking along with his creamy cum that was still nicely tucked inside you. You pant, riding the wave and Grimmjow turned off the vibrator from his phone. It took you a few minutes to regain your composure and return back to your usual self, although you looked dishevelled and tired.
“Sorry. Passed a clot”, you said with an awkward chuckle.
“Gross! I’m eating!” Ichigo dramatically choked on his eggs and looked at you in disgust.
“Shut it! Never seen blood before? Maybe I’ll show some of yours”, Grimmjow shot Ichigo a glare, an open invitation for a brawl.
Ichigo had gotten better at ignoring Grimmjow’s adult tantrums and taunts and now that he had a toddler, he reserved his energy for that nightmare.
Grimmjow however did not appreciate the cold shoulder. He was getting riled up and his forehead veins were becoming more prominent. Damn it! He was behaving so well but now the excitement of the toy had worn off, he was back to his flighty self.
And before things turned ugly, you dismissed yourself so you could go home and rest. You were still recovering from the mall Santa public embarrassment. Of course you will never set foot in that mall again thanks to Grimmjow and his possessive impulsive instincts. But you were not ready to be banned from your favourite breakfast restaurant. If that was the case, sooner or later you would have to move towns.
You desperately needed a change of underwear.
Day 6: Christmas Movies
Grimmjow is reclined back on the couch, trying to keep himself awake. You are snuggled next to him, hot chocolate with floating marshmallows prepared and set on the coffee table. The movie hasn’t even gotten past the opening credits and he has already drifted off to a dream world of his own.
You sigh, not bothering to wake him up and just continue to cuddle against his arm. Grimmjow wasn’t going to sit through a movie anyway, let alone a Christmas romance movie. But as long as he was by your side, you were content. Can’t win all the battles.
A few minutes in and you gently pull away from him to grab your mug of hot chocolate. You are careful not to jolt him because he can sometimes get very feisty if awoken unexpectedly. Just his natural feral instinct to growl and come at you with his claws.
You take a sip of your hot chocolate and frown. It didn’t taste right. You take another sip to confirm. It wasn’t the smooth rich kind you like. You set the mug back on the table and glance over at Grimmjow, who appeared so peaceful and delicate as soft snores escaped him. You watch him stir a little in his sleep, his eyebrows furrowed and nose twitched slightly. Watching him sleep was more entertaining than the lame movie itself.
Your gaze slowly dropped towards his chest and you watched it rise and fall with each breath. Your travelling gaze continued further down. You lick the corner of your lips, tasting the remnants of the awful cheap hot chocolate. Falling forward, you pull the elastic of his Christmas pyjama’s down and pull out his soft cock. You gave it a few strokes with your hand, watching it slowly fill up your loose fist as it filled up with blood. Grimmjow’s reflexes were quick and his eyes jolted open and he instinctively came at you with his sharp claws, his dick and potential future offsprings in jeopardy. Or so he thought.
You already know his pattern of attack. He comes at you with his right claws and aims at an angle. You were quick to fall on your knees to the ground and his claws sliced through empty air. It took him a second to realize that he was not in danger and he groaned when he felt your soft wet lips wrap around his semi-limp cock.
“Wow wow what’s happening here!”, he asked, surprised but also excited.
You slurp down his length, taking it all in before popping it back out of your mouth and licking the sides of the shaft with your tongue.
“Need some heavy cream for my hot chocolate”, you replied nonchalantly and proceeded to occupy your mouth again.
His eyes are wide in shock. You taking the initiative and saying something so vulgar just caught him off guard for a second. That was usually something he would say. It took him a few seconds to catch his bearings.
“Oh! Well…..keep that up! I will give you all the cream you need”, he encouraged with his hand resting on your head.
You continued bobbing your head, slurping and sucking, waiting for your fresh creamy delight to be delivered straight to your mouth. And it didn’t take long for you to be rewarded.
“That’s it, babe. Milk that cream out. Every last drop. Now show me”, he begged as he finished pumping fresh seed onto your tongue.
You pull away and open your mouth to reveal the mess he just made on your tongue before you gulp and swallow it down in one go.
“FUCK! That’s hot!”, he grabbed you by the head, his fingers digging into your scalp and his sensitive dick back down your throat. Overstimulated to the point of no return, he continued feeding you heavy cream until you could take no more and the end credits were rolling on the T.V. screen.
Day 7: Blizzard and Chocolates
Shit! It’s a blizzard and you are trapped at work. You quickly text Grimmjow to let him know so he doesn’t end up setting the house on fire. Intentionally.
Text conversation:
G: Can I come get you?
You: Nah. It will just raise too many questions with my coworkers.
G: Fuck. I’m horny.
You: Go jerk off.
G: Pics?
You: What part of ‘stuck at work with coworkers’ don’t you understand?
G: So pics in the bathroom?
You sigh and drop the phone face down on your desk. You can’t deal with him right now. Just when you are about to go get some dinner from a vending machine, your phone rings. Too tired to even register who or what was on the screen, you swipe to accept the call without thinking much of it.
“Crap! shit! Grimmjow!” You almost dropped your phone. He put himself on face time and was butt naked, flashing his hard leaky cock on the screen.
You quickly grab your phone and headphones and run to the nearest bathroom.
“GRIMMJOW!!! I can’t be doing this at work”, you whisper yell at him once you confirm no one was in any of the bathroom stalls.
“I don’t know what’s going on! It’s won’t fuckn go down. Been at it for an hour!” He sounded distressed and panicked.
“What?” You sound confused but also concerned now.
“It started when I ate those chocolates under the bed I found this morning and shit you poisoning me or something woman because my dick feels like fire. Come take care of me!!!!”, he snapped at you.
“Oh my. Oh shit. I mean serves you right for sneaking into your Christmas presents early but babe those are aphrodisiac chocolates. Please tell me you only ate one?” You are literally sweaty and ready to call 911 on him but you think the paramedics will survive his claws? He’s not even human.
“What? Why would you gift me those? I ain’t horny enough for you on a normal day? And I ate five! Do they have to make them different flavours? Like fuck I had to try one of each! Babe please you need to get here or I’m coming to you!” He was in literal tears and begging.
“Ok ok. Hold on. Maybe if I call Kisuke? He would know what to do”, you suggest, trying to think logically here.
“That bastards just going to laugh his stupid face off and then I’ll have to rip his face off. Please can I just come to you? It will take me like a few minutes. Fuck I can’t even survive a few minutes.”
“No! Babe I have coworkers here …. babe…GRIMMJOW Hello!” He disconnected. Which means he was already in that weird portal of his.
And it took him literally seconds to climb into the bathroom windows of your workplace and he was now standing in front of you looking all dishevelled and a complete mess.
You quickly grab his arm and pull him into a bathroom stall before someone walks in. Your heart is racing hard, worried you would be caught and fired on the spot. There was some fumbling as he tried to undo his pants but was struggling. So you reached over to unbutton and unzip his pants and pulled out his red angry dry cock.
“Shhesssh heard of moisturizer?” You joked.
“Please just … make it go …down” he was begging with his eyes. He was begging!!!! You must relish this moment and engrave it into your memory.
You gather some spit in your mouth and coat his length with it. Your hands slip up and down his shaft and it twitches under your care. He rested his back against the cold stall door, his head tilted back and he finally started feeling some relief.
“Gonna cum”, he warned you within minutes of you starting. He knows better than to get your work clothes dirty.
You pulled him forward, guns facing the toilet and you stroked his cock from behind. You heard some footsteps of people walking in to use the facilities. You cover Grimmjow’s mouth with your other hand and continue to pump his length until he makes his mess into the toilet bowl.
You sigh in relief but he isn’t done just yet. He turns you around so you are facing the toilet, his hands pushing your knee length skirt up towards your hips and your panties are moved to the side. The tip of his cock is resting against your exposed folds and with one quick thrust, he was in heaven. The warmth of your wet walls offered him immense relief.
You cover your mouth with your hand as he begins pounding you from behind. Skin slapping and wet sounds came from your hole as his cock continued to piston into you. Luckily, the obnoxiously loud hand dryers and sound of automatic flushing from your toilet muffled those sounds.
He came a few times inside you. You were a leaky cum mess when you pulled up your panties and fixed your skirt.
Although Grimmjow was feeling better with his problem, his dick was sore and probably out of commission for a few days.
“Should I ice this shit?” He asked while tucking himself back in. The tip of his dick was super sensitive that even the light touch of his clothes had him wincing and toes curling.
“Babe…the one who needs ice right now is me. Just go home and take one of those painkillers and rest and I will see you in the morning”, you suggested.
And for once, he actually took your advice.
Day 8: Snuggles and massages
It snowed nonstop the entire night. Morning came, the roads were plowed and you were in your car homeward bound. You slept on the air mattress at work all night so your back was stiff and neck kinked. And if you thought your spine was in rough shape, your pussy felt like it split in half.
You took your time to drive through the treacherous roads and eventually pulled into your driveway. You walked into your house, ready to just sink into your mattress and sleep the day away. You were off work until after Christmas, so the burden of last night didn’t linger for long knowing you won’t have to return to work anytime soon.
But first….a nice warm shower! Grimmjow was knocked out and you caught a glimpse of his blue hair peeking out of the covers. He liked to cocoon himself especially on a cold day. You found it very endearing.
You tiptoed around and went into the bathroom to take your long steamy shower. You let the water hit your back, the tense muscles instantly letting go. You spread your legs open to clean out your pussy and the mess Grimmjow left last night when he tried to remedy his hard problem.
You climbed into the covers next to his warm body and carefully wrapped your arm around his waist. You tried not to startle him and allow him to naturally pick up your scent so he felt safe. He stirs a little in his sleep and opens one eye but you are already out like a light.
A few hours later you wake up to the smell of bitter strong coffee and toast. You felt a tickle along your spine and he was cuddled up next to you. He had you up against his chest and was tracing his hands up and down your spine.
“Did you burn the toast?” You ask, the smell of burnt bread is hard to miss.
“The first one … yea. But I got the next one right”, he said with some pride. Domestic Grimmjow learning his way around in the human world was very much wholesome.
“Thank you”, you whisper into his chest, soaking up his rare kindness.
“Tch…whatever”. He continued to caress your back over your nightgown and stopped just between your shoulder blades. “Why you got knots all over?”
“The air mattress was horrible. I’m sore all over. I guess the hot shower really didn’t help”, you sigh and slowly try to sit up, your spine creaking and cracking as you do so.
“That sounds fucked. I guess I can give you my Christmas present early”, he said unexpectedly. He hopped off the bed and walked out of the room. He walked back in and handed you a small box that was horribly wrapped. You could already see through the torn wrapping paper that it was a massage oil of some kind.
“I swear you have ADHD. But thank you”. You peel the rest of the blue wrapping paper off but before you could even admire the gift, he took it away from your hands.
“Take your clothes off and lay on your stomach”, he ordered while tearing the box apart so he could get the bottle out. You want to tell him there is a way to gracefully open boxes but would it make a difference?
You are beyond excited to actually get a gift from Grimmjow. So you quickly pull off your gown and lay on your stomach as directed.
Grimmjow licks his lips as he glances at your bare back. You weren’t wearing panties either, your round ass is all at his viewing pleasure. But his sore dick reminded him he needs a rest day today.
“No claws, ok?” You felt a drizzle of cold oil on your back and it made your muscles flinch a little. But eventually his hands began to work its magic and your muscles were melting under his touch. “WOW! You actually have a knack for this”.
“Ya ya. Just shut up and enjoy”. He slowly straddled your hips to get into a better ergonomic set up. He moved both his hands simultaneously upwards, making nice and even strokes along your slippery oily skin. He found the tension knots and put a little more pressure on those points. The oil had a very subtle scent of geranium and patchouli. Both toxic to cats.
He shimmied himself lower onto your thighs and his hands began to work on your lower back and eventually your butt. He can’t help it. He kneaded the flesh into his fists, watching it jiggle and bounce as he played around with your soft mounds like a kitten fascinated with a ball of yarn.
“Babe, focus!” You reminded him, pulling him out of his hypnotic daze.
He just chuckled and finished his way down your thighs and legs.
“Flip over”, he requested.
You hesitated at first, the sharp sting in your sex reminding you of last night's venture. However this moment might not come again. A full body massage from Grimmjow. No one would believe you.
He straddles your hips again and poured more of that floral scented oil on your front. A bit too much than needed and he oiled you up pretty good. You were shimmering and glistening at this point. But who cares because he was taking good care of you.
Of course he played around with his favourite ornaments, squeezing them like a stress ball and giving them some extra attention. You let him play to his heart's content and he slowly drags his hands down your stomach and towards your pelvis. He spreads open your legs and grabs the bottle to drizzle some more of that oil. He is starting to feel a little nauseous from the scent but he ignores those warning signs and runs his fingers up and down your glistening folds.
“Please be gentle. I’m still sore from last night's ordeal”, you explain.
Although he ignores you, he is surprisingly gentle with his fingers. He traces your entrance with his fingertips, teasing you with his gentle touch until two of them disappear inside you. You let out a stretched out moan, even though it's still sore, he seems to be massaging all the right places to help ease the pain.
Eventually he pulls out his fingers and replaces them with his tongue. He starts off with one sweep up your folds, gathering all the floral aroma on his tongue. You feel his tongue wiggling past your folds and slowly consuming you with desire. His fingers land on your clit, massaging circles and shapes and he feels it swell up beneath his touch.
You are close to your impending release. Yesterday was all about calming down his erection that you never came once. Now all that pent up sexual frustration was about to be released (and sprayed) in one go. His face is buried deep between your thighs, his mind numb as he becomes pussy drunk. Your fingers dig into his blue hair, nails scratching his scalp as your pussy flutters around his hungry mouth. He slurps and sucks and even chokes a little as you squirt all over him. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he takes it all.
The massage was a success. You felt light as a feather. There was a faint tingling burning sensation around your entrance once he pulled away.
“I feel funny”, he suddenly said, looking at you with arousal soaked lips and chin.
The burning sensation between your thighs is growing. You quickly grab the massage bottle and read the label.
“Babe! This oil isn’t edible!!!!” You are alarmed and unsure if Arrancars can get poisoned. You quickly google the contact number for poison control.
“Fuck! I’m gonna puke”. He darted to the bathroom.
“Fuck my vagina is on fire! Where did you buy this cheap shit!!!!!”
Day 9: Christmas market
You don’t need anything but sometimes a romantic stroll down the Christmas market with your partner just lifts the spirit.
Not that you needed any spirits lifted either. But the magical blend of sights, sounds and scents stirred up something enchanting inside you.
But Grimmjow was indifferent. He just stuffed his hands in his pocket, all bundled up with a hat and scarf you forced him to wear because of the aesthetics. You reach over for his forearm and pull his hand out of his pocket so you could interlace your fingers with his. What’s the point of having a romantic walk when you ain’t holding hands!
Grimmjow heard a ho-ho-ho and perked right up, going into offensive mode. You just squeezed his hands and nodded.
“Different Santa”, you explained.
“All fuck’n same”, he growled, glaring at the jolly man in red who was ringing a bell and collecting donations.
You roll your eyes and drag him away from the vicinity in case he went all feral thanks to recent flashbacks.
You suddenly found yourself standing under a wooden arch with a mistletoe suspended above you. You glance at Grimmjow, who obviously doesn’t know what it signifies. So you just took the lead and gave him a kiss on the lips.
“I love you”. You declare with the flutter of your eyelashes.
“Ya. Same”. He tries to avoid your gaze. Your eyes are too sparkly for his liking.
“Say it!” You demand from him.
“IT!”
“Dumbass!” You playfully punch his chest.
Now both of you are laughing out loud, tears in your eyes and ribs hurting. He goes in for another kiss, his hands resting on your hips while you wrap your arms around his neck and go onto your tippy toes. Flakes of pure white snow begin to fall, turning the Christmas Market into a living snow globe with you two at the epicenter of it all.
Day 10: Ice skating
“Grimmjow, please just get on the ice!”
He was all skated up and ready but he was still suspicious of this winter activity. He liked to be in control of his footing and did not find any amusement in gliding and sliding around on a patch of ice like an idiot.
It was an outdoor ice rink and packed with couples and kids zooming around. You weren’t exactly an expert on your skates but you took some lessons last year and could hold your own weight.
You made a quick lap around the rink to dust off the cobwebs and skated back towards the benches. He was sitting there arms crossed, refusing to even move a muscle.
“Seriously Grimmjow. You just have to ruin everything!” You gave him a look of disappointment and skated away. Damn that look really stabbed his heart.
While you were on the other side of the rink, he made an attempt to stand up and get on the ice. He was grabbing onto the walls like crutches as he guided his way through the crowd.
You take your eyes off him for a few minutes and he already had two hot women drooling all over him and helping him around the ice. One on each side as they helped him glide through the middle of the rink.
To say you are furious is an understatement. If you think Grimmjow was the only one with anger issues, you have some serious self-reflection to ponder upon.
Your fist in a tight ball, you storm through the crowd, knocking a few people along your path of destruction. You pushed one of the women to the ice and grabbed hold of his hand and dragged him back to the gates and pulled him off the ice.
“Babe, what the hell?” He was stunned.
You flash him the most poisonous of glares and he just nervously gulps. Skates off and boots on, you dragged him back to the car.
“Hold on! Are ya jealous?” He finally clued in. “They were just the skating instructors”.
“Did they look like skating instructors to you?” You clench your jaw and slam the car door once you get inside.
He doesn’t know what to say or how to deal with your emotional outburst. One thing is for certain, he is turned on by it.
There is a gentle tap on the window on his side of the car. He looked in that direction and noticed the two women had followed him to the car.
“Un- fuck’n- believable!” You yell and lower down the windows to yell some more. “He’s taken. Take a fuckn hint!”
“Wow babe. You hot when mad”, he whistled.
“Just want to make sure he is safe and not being taken against his will”, one of the women presented her logic.
“Against my will?” Grimmjow began laughing out loud. His laughter was contagious and soon your anxiety and anger had dissipated.
Suddenly you felt possessive and feisty. Not a good combination because it had you do something you would never in a million years would attempt otherwise.
“Let’s prove them wrong”. Your face falls forward and you unzip his pants and pull out his semi limp cock. The aphrodisiacs were still in his system because it didn’t take long for him to double in size in your mouth as you sucked him off. Having an audience really added onto the thrill and it didn’t take long for him to give you a mouth full of his cum. You pull him out of your mouth with an audible pop and swallow his seed. You purposefully left some of his cum on your lips and dragged the tip of your tongue along your bottom lip to take it all in.
“Hope you enjoy the show ladies. Now get lost and wreck some other home”, you gave them a smug grin.
The women just walked away, dragging their jaws to the ground, speechless and stunned.
“Babe! That was so fuckn hot”, Grimmjow gave you wide eyes, a slight twinkle hidden behind those blue pupils.
“Don’t get any more ideas. I ain’t a exhibitionist”.
Day 11: Roleplay Bad Santa, Naughty Elf
Grimmjow is lounging around on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels. He would rather be wreaking havoc in Hueco Mundo right now but he made a promise to stick around until after Christmas.
You read the boredom on his face. So you disappear for a minute into your room and quickly walk back out with a surprise. Time to spice things up for him.
He gives you a side glance just because he saw you in his periphery. However, that side glance lingered longer than expected. His mouth hanging ajar, he rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
You giggle and hop towards him while wearing nothing but a very racy lacy blue lingerie that barely covered much, leaving nothing for his imagination. You were also wearing some pointy elf ears.
“Let’s play bad Santa, naughty elf”, you proposed while placing a Santa hat on his head.
“Oh! So you’ve been naughty?” He asked while playing along. The boredom on his face was gone and replaced with curiosity and hunger.
“Yes. Very”. You turn around and bend forward to reveal a pink vibrator shoved up your hole, buzzing away at its own pace.
He was running out of room in his pants and you turned back around to help free up some space. You pulled his hard cock out and held it between your two hands, the warmth from your palm had the blood rushing to the tip.
He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you spread across his lap, face down and ass up. He could now clearly see the pink toy peeking out of your stretched out pussy.
“You naughty elf…shoving a plastic dick up your hot messy pussy. What?…Santa’s cock ain’t enough for you?” His hand was massaging your ass cheeks, prepping them for the punishment you deserved.
You wiggle your butt, taunting him. “Santa looked so bored and sleepy. But your naughty elf was very very horny”.
A sharp slap landed on your round ass. “Poor excuse. You know my cock is up and ready anytime for you, elf.” Another slap on your other cheek to give it the same shade of red as its counterpart.
You yelp and squirm and he takes a hold of your vibrator and decides to use it as a fuck toy, thrusting it roughly in and out of your sloppy slippery pussy.
You're a moaning mess, twitching and convulsing to the point of overstimulation. Just when you are about to cum, he gives you another smack on the ass to pull you out of your trance.
Several times he edged you on until you finally begged for his cock.
“What was that, elf?” He had a smug smirk on his face, loving this roleplay business.
“Cock…give me your cock!” You begged, panting and a drooling mess.
He grabs you by the hair and pushes you on the couch. He yanks out the vibrator from your sorry cunt and replaces it with his fat cock. And he pounded you from behind, shoving you further and further into the soft couch until you mold into it.
“That’s it… you naughty elf deserves nothing but a good pussy pounding. But I’ll be generous and shower you with some Christmas cheer.”, he groans and pulls out of your pussy and ropes of cum fly and land all over your throbbing red ass.
Day 12: Merry Fuck-mas my Love
It was past midnight and you couldn’t sleep. He was just as fidgety and kept tossing and turning in bed. You finally sit up and push the blankets off your naked sore body and walk out of the room. Grimmjow sat up and watched you storm back in with a bag full of presents.
“It’s past midnight. It’s Christmas. Let’s open some gifts”, you explained your intentions and dumped the contents of the bag onto the bed.
You started off by opening a gift wrapped by him. Again, horrible job with the wrapping. You laughed when you pulled out a photo frame with a picture of you naked, wrapped in colorfully lit Christmas lights and holding a star over your head. Creativity points for this one.
Grimmjow grabbed one that was from Ichigo and Orihime. He growled and tossed the gift off the bed and onto the floor.
“Grimmjow! Be nice!”
He just ignored you and grabbed another package from the pile. This one was from Kisuke and so he proceeded to do the same, dropping it on the floor.
“Okay that one I can understand”. You giggled.
The bed was a mess from all the gift wrappers and boxes of things given to us by loved ones. Well in Grimmjow’s case, his enemies. You found out that the cheap massage oil he bought for you was sold by none other than the most trustworthy Kisuke Urahara.
Eventually both of you landed on that box of special chocolates. You sat on his lap as he opened the half eaten box. He grabbed a piece and indulged himself.
“Does it work on you?” He asked with a mischievous grin.
“Yes it does”, you reply without hesitation.
He grabs a piece of chocolate and places it up against your lips. Your tongue teases his fingers as you take the offering into your mouth.
He went back for seconds. And so did you. The box of special chocolates was emptied.
“Be prepared. It’s going to be a long night”, you joked as you pushed his engorged throbbing cock deep into your burning pussy and straddled his lap.
“Giving me a warning? I live for this day”.
“Merry fuck-mas Grimmjow” you moan as you began to bounce up and down on his lap, riding him well into dawn.
“Merry Fuck-mas y/n. Damn I fuckn love you”, he came uncontrollably.
Weeks passed without a trace of him, and while you swore it was a relief, a strange sense of irritation gnawed at you. Every rustle, every hollow lurking in the shadows, every shift in the air—your first thought was Grimmjow. You told yourself it was because he was a threat, not because of… anything else. Still, no amount of convincing could shake the feeling that something was missing.
Then, one evening, just as you were wrapping up a mission, you felt that unmistakable, wild spiritual pressure flood the air. Grimmjow. And like clockwork, your pulse quickened, that familiar blend of frustration and thrill surging through you. You’d barely turned around before he appeared right in front of you, arms crossed, smirk locked and loaded.
“Miss me?” he asked, sounding all too pleased with himself.
You sighed dramatically, giving him a deadpan look. “I forgot you even existed.”
“Really?” He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing, testing. “'Cause from the way you’re glaring at me right now, I’d say you missed me a lot.”
You crossed your arms, refusing to back down. “In your dreams. But sure, Grimmjow, if it helps your fragile ego, go ahead and think that.”
He laughed, the kind of laugh that was equal parts genuine and infuriating. “You talk a big game for someone who’s clearly happy to see me.”
You scoffed, your cheeks heating up in betrayal. “What are you even doing here?”
He shrugged, casual as always. “Just passing through. Thought I’d check on my favorite punching bag.” He leaned in, his voice lowering, that smirk daring you to react. “Wouldn’t want you getting soft without me around to keep you sharp.”
“Please. You’re the one who’s gonna get soft if you keep spending all your time lurking in shadows,” you shot back, but your pulse betrayed you, racing as he closed the distance, a touch too close for comfort. “Why don’t you find some other idiot to annoy?”
Grimmjow chuckled, looking at you with an intense, almost unreadable expression. “Nah. None of them are as fun as you.”
For a split second, the air between you shifted, the tension stretching so thick you could practically feel it. You hated how he always had that effect on you, how he knew exactly which buttons to press, how he made it impossible to think straight. But before you could respond, Grimmjow’s expression darkened, his gaze shifting past you.
“Get down,” he muttered, pushing you aside as a blast of energy whizzed by, leaving a scorched mark on the ground. You barely had time to react before a swarm of hollows closed in around you both, their claws and teeth flashing in the moonlight.
Without missing a beat, the two of you fell into a brutal rhythm, fending off the attackers side-by-side. For all his arrogance, Grimmjow fought like no one you’d ever seen—raw, ruthless, and fierce. You found yourself matching his intensity, both of you moving in sync like you’d trained together for years.
“Watch your left!” he shouted, blocking a hollow from blindsiding you.
“I had it covered,” you shot back, slashing through the creature with ease.
“Sure, whatever you say,” he replied with a grin, tearing through another with his bare hands. Blood spattered across his face, and he looked back at you with a wild, almost feral look in his eyes. “Try to keep up.”
When the last hollow fell, you were both left breathing hard, surrounded by the aftermath of the fight. Grimmjow stood there, looking completely in his element, a hint of admiration mixed into his usual cocky stare.
“Not bad, Y/N,” he said, his tone softer than usual. “You might actually be getting stronger.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat in your chest. “I’ve always been strong, Grimmjow. Maybe it’s you who needs to keep up.”
For once, he didn’t fire back. Instead, he looked at you with a curious expression, almost like he was seeing you for the first time. The usual smirk was gone, replaced by something raw, something real.
And then, before you knew what was happening, he stepped forward, closing the space between you with surprising gentleness. He didn’t say a word, just looked at you with that intense, piercing gaze that had always driven you crazy. There was no snide remark, no mocking laugh. Just a silence that seemed to pull you in, the air thick with something you couldn’t quite name.
You were about to say something—anything to break the tension—when he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was somehow both fierce and soft, as if he was testing the waters but daring you to pull away. You should have pushed him back, should have told him off, but somehow, you found yourself kissing him back, caught up in the heat and fire of it all.
When he finally pulled away, he looked down at you with that infuriating smirk back in place, but there was something different behind it this time, a softness that surprised you.
“Guess I missed you after all,” he murmured, before stepping back, that cocky grin once again firmly in place.
You glared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Don’t get used to it.”
But as you both walked away from the battlefield, side-by-side, you knew you were both tangled up in something neither of you could quite escape. And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t hate it as much as you pretended to.
In the midst of a chaotic world filled with hollows, humans, and shinigami, you, Y/N, have somehow managed to get entangled with none other than Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, the brash, relentless, and undeniably frustrating Arrancar.
---
Grimmjow was insufferable. Arrogant, impulsive, and reckless to the core. Every time he showed up, you could feel the headache starting before he even opened his mouth. He was the type to walk into a room like he owned the place, flaunting that cocky smirk that you wanted to slap right off his face.
But there was something else—a twisted attraction that lingered in the air whenever he was around. It was almost intoxicating, in the worst way. For every annoying, snide comment he made, there was also that stupid, raw, fiery intensity in his eyes when he looked at you, the same intensity he had in battle. You hated it. But also, you didn't. And that was the most frustrating part.
“Oi, Y/N,” Grimmjow would start, sauntering over like he had all the time in the world. “Don’t you get tired of pretending to be so high and mighty?”
You’d roll your eyes, barely glancing his way. “Don't you get tired of having an ego bigger than your brain?”
He'd laugh, that loud, cocky laugh, clearly enjoying the challenge. Grimmjow loved to push buttons, and you were a favorite target. Any normal person would have walked away, but for some reason, you found yourself standing your ground. Maybe it was the thrill, the weird attraction to the way he fought against everything and everyone.
In the quieter moments—rare as they were—Grimmjow would sometimes let his guard down, just for a second. He’d lean in close, maybe after a particularly intense fight, blood on his hands and a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Not bad, Y/N. You might actually be worth keeping around.”
You’d scoff, refusing to show any weakness. “Like I’m sticking around for you. Keep dreaming.”
He’d smirk, and that smirk would stay on your mind far longer than you cared to admit. Because for all the hate, there was also this undeniable pull. It was like you were both caught in the same dangerous dance, and every fight, every insult, only dragged you in deeper.
When he disappeared for a while, though, you’d tell yourself you were just glad to be rid of him. But deep down, you felt the loss, the thrill you missed in the quiet. Because for all his insufferable arrogance, Grimmjow was someone who made you feel alive. You hated him. And, in some strange way, you couldn't help but feel something close to love too.
---
The end? Or the beginning of another round of arguments?
