Friends.

Friends.

Starring: Grimmjow x f!reader;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, creampie, vaginal sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, complicated relationship, mention to alcohol, friends to lovers, dom!Grimmjow, sub!reader, slight angst, mutual paining, feelings, forbidden relationship;

Plot: you were not even supposed to be friends, yet you enjoyed his company. That summer things changed, though. After some alcoholic kisses, you crossed the line. Every single time you were tangled into the bedsheets of a bed, you told yourself it was the last time. What a foolish rule not to do it again. The truth was some mistakes were bound to be repeated and this one was not an exception.

Track: Friends — Chase Atlantic, “Tell me we’re not just friends, this doesn’t make much sense, no”.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The rain pattered steadily against the window of your bedroom, a loud thunder exploding outside, as your cheek was pressed against the puffy lilac pillow you were clutching at tightly to brace yourself. Those, however, were not the only sounds piercing your ears.

Your breath was uneven, your lips were parted as you moaned softly for the way he was thrusting into you from behind. His chiseled abs, sweaty, contracted, were grazing the smooth skin of your arched back. His fingers were gripping your hips with an animalistic desire as he tried to increase the pace a tad more. Now, as you squeezed your eyes shut and isolated yourself from the rest of the world, the only sound you could hear were his raspy groans.

“Fuck” he cussed, one of his hand flying up to latch around the back of your neck and keep you in place.

It was too much. You were getting addicted to this and you knew you should have not even started. You blamed it on the beers you were sipping on that summer night at the lake, but it was just an excuse you had made up to feel less guilty about it all. Your friendship was ruined, inevitably.

The drunk giggles, the dirty comments he made and the way you let him hook his hands underneath your thighs to settle you onto the wooden fence bording the shore were just the beginning of it.

His spiky light-blue hair were stuck on his forehead, as he grunted at the way your inner walls were clenching around him so perfectly. You were made for him. You should have been his, you were his. The thought of you hanging around with other men, with Ichigo’s gang, truly irked him. However, he was in no position to retaliate. You were not his girlfriend. You were his bloody friend.

“Hold on, I’m almost there” he huskily said, leaning down towards your ear to let his hot breath fan your earlobe. He knew you loved it, he knew you could not resist him, especially when he was so deep into you.

You whined, your foreteeth sinking onto your lower lip as you tried not to make too much noise. He knew how to read your body, he knew you were on the verge of unraveling under his attentive, piercing blue eyes. You were so beautiful writhing underneath him.

His hand slided down between your parted, trembling thighs, searching for your bundle of nerves. It was so filthy, the moan that ripped out of your chest as he overstimulated you made you feel so ashamed of yourself. He had truly ruined you. Some droplets of sweat, falling from his forehead, ran down the curve of his nose and splashed onto the middle of your back.

“Grimmjow…” you whimpered his name, as his thrusts got sloppier and your knuckles turned white for your tight grip on the pillow. It was too good to be true, too unrealistic to last forever.

You reached your climax as he growled in pleasure, his sharp fangs biting down onto the tender crook of your neck, while he filled you up so deliciously. Panting, he stayed still into you to make sure not a single drop of his seed got to waste. It was his way to mark you, to remind you that you could try to fight it, ignore the connection you had, but your body belonged to him. No one made you feel the way he did.

You exhaled sharply, your droopy eyes fluttering open as you came to terms with what you two had just done for the umpteenth time. You wanted to rip yourself to shreds for being so stupid, but you did not. It was useless anyway. You had not idea of what you two had become, but you were far away from being friends.

As he pulled out of you and collapsed tiredly on the empty side of your bed, Grimmjow scoffed “Come on, say it again” he taunted you, his eyes scrutinizing the ceiling to entertain himself in the aftermaths of the recent events.

A stab through your heart would have probably hurt you less than his words.

You sat up, helping yourself to kneel onto the bed by pushing your drained body up with your elbows. You were glad he could not see your face in the dark room, because your eyes would have betrayed you right away. Your mouth was dry as you stared at your shaky hands planted onto the mattress. The silence swallowing you two was deafening.

“We need to stop. We are friends” you simply mumbled, not daring to dart your eyes on him.

Grimmjow sighed “You don’t really want this to end. If you did, you wouldn’t let me fuck you stupid every single time we meet” he pointed out, resting his arms behind his head as he directed his eyes on the nightsky outside your window.

It was still pouring, the wind blowing fiercely making some brenches of the tree tap onto the glass of the window.

“Stop it” you breathed out, clenching your fists in frustration.

“We used to watch movies, play video games and do some other shit friends do together, before we started this. Can’t you see it? Something’s changed and you need to stop being a coward” he blurted out bitterly, sitting up too to take a better look at you.

You seemed so fragile, so troubled by admitting that you and Grimmjow used to be friends. That was right, your friendship belonged to the past. Now you were something else.

“We are still friends, it’s not too late to make this stop!” you retorted, shifting your position to hide yourself from him. Yet, Grimmjow was not going to drop the argument. He was not done at all.

In a swift motion, he reached his hand towards you and grasped your jaw firmly. Your head was forced to whip towards him and your eyes finally met for the first time, since he crossed the threshold of your bedroom that night. He stayed silent for several seconds, watching the way your lower lip quivered and your eyes seemed to sparkle under the dim moonlight seeping from the window. Your eyes were teary.

“Cut the crap. Friends don’t fuck. I might be a dick, an insensitive brute, but I know that too” he said sternly, his fingernails digging onto your cheeks enough to make you stiffen, but not to leave marks onto the flesh.

He was right.

Once again, you struggled to spit out a single word and you felt your breath get shallow. A tear ran down your cheek and you felt Grimmjow’s grip on your jaw loosen, until he eventually dropped it and you quickly wiped the tear away.

“You know I like you. — you started, your voice merely audible as you swallowed the lump in your throat to finally confront him — But I’m scared. This is wrong. We were not even supposed to be friends, let alone start a relationship” you reasoned, hoping he would understand.

Perhaps, he did. However, he was not going to agree at all. He never had anything good in his life. Feelings were a foreign thing he had overheard some people talk about, when he roamed down the streets in search for nothing but valid opponents. Then he had met you. Now, for some wicked reason, he could not let you go.

“I cannot believe it. It’s because of them, isn’t it? You are ready to throw what we have away for the sake of your fucking friends. I can see it in your eyes” he fired back, standing up quickly and running his slender, calloused fingers through his messy hair.

Sorrow. Waves of nausea. Pain.

You had never seen Grimmjow act like that and it was your fault.

“Grimmjow—” you tried to say, but he cut you off abruptly, but grasping your ankle and dragging you to the edge of the bed.

You yelped, your eyes widening even so slightly as he hovered over you, your noses touching as he captured your lips into a fervent kiss. You returned it as soon as his lips met yours, your arms hanging loosely around his shoulders as you let him take every last shred of pride left in you.

“You know what? Fuck your friends. I need you” he whispered, breaking the kiss, before he bit your swollen, bottom lip and tugged at it softly to assert his dominance over you.

It was a bloody mess, but you could not deny yourself the bliss of having him in your life. As you let him have his way with you again that night, you maoned his name in a different way.

You wanted him, nothing else mattered.