Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Kubo Tite does.

Summary: A Hollow craves Shinigami once it has a taste. An Espada, who evolve from the lesser hollow, retains some of these urges. A GrimmjowxRukia one-shot of his primitive desires for her, the Shinigami.

Author's Note: First off, I ship Ichigo and Rukia. I absolutely love them together, and all of my friends know I'm obsessed. This Grimmjow and Rukia one-shot only surfaced because I have an infatuation with Grimmjow, and the idea of those two together is just simply wrong. So there you go. Enjoy!

Special thanks to Goldenwolf for proofreading.


Primitive Instincts

A GrimmjowxRukia one-shot by Goku's Daughter


Because once you taste it, you just want more…

A simple touch.

A shuddering breath.

A sexy, startling sin.

His rough hands mapped every curve of her body. His lips twisted into a knowing, arrogant smirk. Cursing when she tried to fight him, his fingers pushed into her hair, cupped the back of her head, and held her still.

Her small body shivered. Her soft skin, veiled in sweat, was so silky, so tasty, when his wet tongue glided over flesh. His name left her swollen lips in a gentle sigh. Then his mouth covered hers, tugging on her lower lip, pulling, wanting, greedy…

She pushed him away but he was stronger and he captured her wrists, yanking their bodies together. She shuddered then when his lips drifted and nibbled on the sensitive spot of her ear. His breath tickled her, making her shiver again.

"Shinigami," he breathed, and his mouth covered hers again in rough kisses. Pleasures surged; she tasted so good. She was a Shinigami; of course she would taste good.

"Blackberries," he breathed in her ear again, biting on her gently. She tasted of blackberries. As her arms slid around him, her lips melded to his. His fingers, splayed at the small of her back, slid down and cupped her bottom. Effortlessly, he lifted her up and her hips grinded towards him. With a low groan, a helpless sound torn from him, and the blue-haired man pushed her against the wall. His mouth and teeth marked her neck, leaving a lover's bite, and then he halted. His bright blue eyes met her powerful, deep purple-blue orbs and his mouth curled into a smirk. It was a smirk that she could not figure if she loved or despised.

An Espada and Shinigami would never work.

But she tugged at his shirt, a gentle plea for him to continue. A deep chuckle escaped his lips and he moved swiftly to the white bed that awaited them. He was always in a hurry but at the same time, he was thorough. He was always rough, but at the same time, he cared. He cared in his own twisted way. Because he wanted her.


The Shinigami cleansed the Earth of bad souls, the hollows, and helped the good souls crossover to Soul Society.

Her beautiful eyes sparked with blue fire, ignited so readily to this man, this evil man. She knew she was opposite to him; she was pure, white, and chaste. Above all else, she had a soul. This man tainted her; he took her, claimed her…defiled her. But what's worse, he ignited a fire in her. His fingers peeled the Shinigami robe from her flesh, marvelling at the perfect, pure, white flesh that he lusted for.

And the Espada were the top-ranked Arrancar that worked for Aizen.

Her dainty hands helped pull off his ragged, white jacket before her fingers pushed in his light blue, wild hair. His distinct scent of his thick locks filled her nostrils, and then her hands trailed down his face, outlining the blue-green lines around his eyes, caressing the white mask on his right cheek, and then to his hard chest, tantalizing with each touch she made.

She was the good one. He was bad.

Her splayed hands moved down to his hole in his abdomen, outlining what has marked him the enemy. Then her body arched towards him in a blatant offering; she shuddered when his mouth covered her breast in hot, wet kisses. His hands were busy making her completely naked beneath him but once she was, he stopped again to take a good look at her. His eyes wondered from her neck, down to her small, humble breasts, to her flat, tight stomach. Her black garments under her body highlighted her white flesh and purity.

Espadaand Shinigami simply don't mix.

Once a hollow has tasted a Shinigami, it consumes the monster, creating an addiction for more and more Shinigami. These primal feelings are more controlled in such an evolved creature as himself, an Espada. However, these primitive urges still exist in some sort of form. The severe difference was: Hollows loved to eat the Shinigami; Grimmjow lusted and enjoyed fucking the Shinigami. His preference was female of course.

It was a primitive instinct to want what you can't have, to want what tasted good, to want what gave pleasurable sensations throughout the body. To want the Shinigami

He could feel her tug at the hem of his pants. His eyes strayed back to her gentle face, and when her hand took hold of his shaft, he felt one of those primal urges cascade and ripple down to his groin. She was not the most beautiful female he had ever seen, but her iciness, her deathly eyes, and the Shinigami scent she protruded evoked those primal urges for Shinigami flesh and blood.

On the first encounter, a long time ago, he had bored his hand through her stomach. Her blood had spilled over him and as she told her friend, the orange-haired boy, to run. Grimmjow had even watched her eyes lose its life. The scene itself aroused a wild thrill through his body.

Then he decided, one day he would take her.

And desecrate her.

And yet, here they were, together

His room was large, and everything was white and blue, but mainly white. She blended well in his abode, but her raven hair and her normal attire was a stark contrast to the room. His sheets were even silky white – who knew bad guys liked the finest things in life. The bed itself was wide and long; everything he had was big and long.

"It's not like you to stop," she said slowly, coldly and then in a stealthy manner she turned him over and straddled his waist. "What's wrong, Shinigami flesh is not enticing anymore?" She mocked him, covering her vulnerability and softness with attitude. He knew better.

"Shut up." He tossed her over and pinned her small body underneath his. She wriggled and her eyes flashed anger. "Shinigami—"

"Kuchiki Rukia," she interrupted tersely. The Shinigami knew he knew her name; she also knew that he enjoyed annoying her.

Grimmjow laughed against her skin, his mouth tasted her sweet lips once again. "Rukia," he breathed in her mouth, "Kuchiki Rukia, the Shinigami." He was always colourful in the way he expressed his words.

Rukia looked back at him with the most intense stare anyone had ever given him. "GrimmjowJaggerjack." She spoke his name slowly and dramatically, as if she learned his name for the first time – but that was decades and decades ago. "Take off your pants." It was an order. She was good at doing that but…

The little Shinigami was helpless. Her hands could not move when he took hold of delicate wrists. His mouth covered her breast again, sucking, and then lightly biting on her coral tip. She gasped from such an act and the sudden sensation swelling through her core. His fingers interlocked hers and his mouth continued southward, licking the tiny hole of her belly button.

Even after all of these years, decades, she still had the softest skin he had ever felt, or tasted. And her skin was still the fairest and purest he had ever seen; so fair to even match his bed sheets.

It was wrong.

He stopped to take off his pants. When he revealed himself to her, she did not look scared by his sheer size. Everything he had was big and long. Grimmjow then opened her legs to him.

But this was Shinigami flesh.

His fingers probed around the area between her thighs, finding the most sensitive spot and rubbing it in a circular motion. He took care in pleasing her, only to make her come back. So he could have more.

And even our wants, our worst desires…

A sudden heat exploded in her core and when she looked at his face, she saw satisfaction, want and need. Their union exploded a wave of pleasure, rippling through their bodies. She even felt a clash of power trying to overcome each other. Maybe it was because they were enemies, and that this was so wrong, but it was such an intense feeling that she felt as if her soul could soar over the highest peaks in Soul Society or become unshakable to the heavy winds in Hueco Mundo or even become invincible to the worst bankai.

Our primitive instincts take over.

He was more than satisfied. Grimmjow got what he wanted. He had felt their power of opposite poles collide but they merged as one. When he was done, he covered her upper body to upper thigh with his bed sheet and watched her face. She was not the prettiest Shinigami he had ever seen, but she was a Shinigami. A Shinigami that intrigued him – one minute she was tough, and the next graceful. There were so many sides to her. That and she tasted good.

His tongue traced over her sweaty cheek and with a finger he moved the stray hair from her eyes.

"Was I as tasty as you imagined?" Her breath was soft and tired. Then she turned her head and looked at him.

He nodded. This was the same question she asked him the first time he took her, and he remembered that the first time they were together, she held up much resistance. He did not rape her though; he asked for permission. Grimmjow had made a deal with her.

His sharp nose brushed against her cheek before his head rested on the pillow. Her head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck and their bodies melded. Rukia let out a shuddering sigh.

Normally he did not talk after these moments but something made him want to laugh. He did. "You know, the first time I thought I was going to break you."

"Break me?" She sounded offended and she snorted almost soundlessly. It was ungraceful to do so, but she was with him. She could be however she wanted and he would not judge her. "You thought I was that weak?"

"You appear to be so fragile and dainty," sounding disgusted, "while I'm so…"

Rukia finished his sentence. "Untamed. Wild. Powerful. Big." The smaller woman listed the words on the top of her head and she almost laughed at him again. "And I proved you wrong."

He nodded. He had been rougher with her before, but of course the first time he claimed her he was the most gentle as he could be.

Then he heard her sigh again.

Grimmjow had not broken her. He had done something else. "You have ruined me," she said, hardly above a whisper. He made her sin. And this was such a grave sin. She even lost the orange-haired boy, Ichigo, in the process.

"Fuck no," he responded softly. Grimmjow closed his eyes and a strawberry scent from her hair filled his nostrils. "You came back, didn't you?"

She shook her head slowly, unable to close her eyes. "You took me. You started this." And the orange-haired boy could not believe what had happened. He did understand – the Espada was stronger than him; he could do what he pleased - but when it became a repeating occurrence, he simply could not forgive her. "You kept taking me…" But she did it to save him.

An eyebrow arched. "You don't want to be here?" It was a rough question, but he asked her honestly.

"I don't know what I want," she whispered.

But he knew what he wanted. He followed his instincts. "I hope you aren't thinking about that fucking retard right now." And he knew her well enough that whenever she became confused and depressed it was because of him.

She did not know why she thought of Ichigo today, and especially at such a time. Rukia did not think she loved him – what did she know about love -- but she cared about him. Even after all of these years… decades…and decades…

And Rukia certainly did not love the man she was with now.

Rukia sighed. "I don't know what I want," she repeated and then she snapped, "And so what if I think about Ichigo?"

That struck something inside of him. "Why?" the Espada demanded, irritation laced in his voice.

The flare of her anger dissipated. "I was thinking where my home was. I had a home with him." She stopped then, feeling his large hand over her breast.

Rukia always carried the people of her past with her, he learned. "You're talkin' shit. Your home is with me now." He squeezed gently, suddenly hating the strawberry scent from her hair. He hated that.

But Grimmjow knew how to make her forget.

A laugh tickled her throat. "Home? Here?" Rukia let the laugh escape her mouth but suddenly screamed when he was over her again, kissing her silent. Rukia could feel his mounting need and in response she darted her head away from his face. "Again?" the female Shinigami asked.

A shoulder lifted and then fell. "Why not? You're not ruined. I still want you. I want you right now." His mouth crashed hers again. He will make her forget. He will make her sin. He will claim her again. And again. For as long as they lived in death.

And if he truly cared about her, Rukia did not know. He kept his word though by sparing Ichigo's life in exchange for her body.

"Grimmjow," she breathed, feeling his knee slither in between her legs. "Wait."

He halted, and looked at her. "What, bitch?"

She punched him hard. "What did you say?"

"Shinigami," he said next, a grin growing on his face.

She slapped his hard chest then. "What, I couldn't hear you?"

As a result from getting punched and slapped, Grimmjow grabbed her wrists, before she could hit him again. She jumped a little from his immediate reaction. Then the sixth Espada moved his mouth closer to her ear and said, "Kuchiki Rukia." She quivered again, captured in his hold.

"You're terrible at hiding your primitive urges," she told him straight to his face. That evoked laugher from the larger man, and he tasted her lips.

"Terrible," she muttered, in between his demanding kisses. Then their bodies melded together again.

This was a sin. This was wrong.

But it was a consequence of need, want, and strong urges… even if primitive.


And the want for the taste becomes an addiction. You just want more and more…



Author's Note: I was not going to include Ichigo at first, but I ended up doing it for dialogue purposes. It's so bad that I can probably make this into a multi-chapter story. And I originally wrote this as the first time Grimmjow took her… maybe I'll polish that next. Maybe. One more thing, I did not mean to portray Rukia as a 'slut' as my friend said. Those lines in the end and the beginning are meant for Grimmjow, not her.

Please review and thanks for reading.