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Grimmjow was minding his own fucking business.
He’ll defend that until his dying day. He was asleep. Happily ensconced in his rooms (doors barred) in Las Noches, right in the middle of his monthly catnap. Nobody knew he was there, or otherwise should know to leave him the fuck alone.
Kurosaki of course is always the goddamn fucking exception.
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Bookmarked by yuuta
20 Feb 2026
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“Nobody important fucking cares what’s between your legs. Only one who does care is who’s trying to fuck it.” He repeats, and one of his knees knocks into one of Ichigo’s. There’s a sucked in breath, and Grimmjow feels cheered by the fact he hasn’t been punched away yet.
“So hey, Kurosaki.” He licks his lip of a droplet of water, tasting salt from his own sweat. Eyes boring into Ichigo’s, Grimmjow’s damn near feral with the sudden heat that was overtaking brown irises. “What’ll you do if I get a bit closer here.”
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Bookmarked by yuuta
20 Feb 2026
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“Don’t get your hopes up, shinigami,” Grimmjow mutters. “I’m not here for a friendly fucking chat.”
And then he strips.
Ichigo doesn’t think much of the jacket, his mind slow and scattered, but he’d be hard-pressed to miss a grown man taking off his hakama and exposing a whole lot of nothing underneath.
His shout reverberates in the cavernous room.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
He looks away, screwing his eyes shut for good measure, and there’s a distant nagging at the back of his mind that it’s fuck-stupid to blind yourself to an enemy like that, especially one as crazy as Grimmjow, but that spark of sense is drowned by the searing memory of skin and more skin.
Grimmjow scoffs. His words drip disdain: “Ain’t your kind supposed to go gaga over shit like this?”
“My—my kind?” Ichigo sputters, still not daring to open his eyes.
“Alphas.”
“What’s that got—”
Warm, is his first thought.
Then the full situation rams into him.
He’s warm because Grimmjow’s in his lap.
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Ichigo’s first fight with Grimmjow takes an unpleasant detour into the cold sands of Hueco Mundo. Both of them live to regret it.Bookmarked by yuuta
20 Feb 2026
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memory that presses like a blade against my throat by voxofthevoid
Fandoms: Bleach (Anime & Manga)
17 May 2022
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There are silver streaks in Kurosaki’s hair. His expression isn’t set in the permanent frown Grimmjow’s used to—he’s not wearing much of an expression at all, face blank in a studied manner—but there are still faint lines on his forehead and softer, sweeter crinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth. He’s broader in the shoulders and chest, and the lines of his body have softened.
This isn’t the boy he left behind.
“You’re old,” Grimmjow hears himself say.
Kurosaki’s careful non-expression breaks open into a crooked smile. His eyes glitter; they, at least, are that familiar warm brown, which soothes Grimmjow in a way he’s not keen on acknowledging.
“Older,” Kurosaki says. “And immortal ghost twunks don’t get to talk about my age.”
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Bookmarked by yuuta
20 Feb 2026
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Next to his ear something splintered with a sharp little crack. Grimmjow's eyes flew open; his legs tightened.
The Vasto Lorde made a sound that wasn't a growl, some kind of breathy, throaty... noise. Caging Grimmjow's hips in clawed hands, he lifted them until Grimmjow was on his shoulder blades, angled them up, thrust down like he was trying to hammer Grimmjow into the dune. Grimmjow gasped, the breath driven out of him."Aw, shit--"
Inspired by Yield By Asuka Kureru
“What if, instead of Ichigo reverting at the end, Grimmjow got stuck with a feral newborn Vasto Lorde for like a month?”
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Bookmarked by yuuta
19 Feb 2026
