Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo, meaning it does not belong to me. I am in no way, shape, and/or form claiming to be the owner/creator of these concepts, though I do claim any characters not apart of the original Bleach storyline (such as Aporro [in character, not name] and Vicenta Acere) mine. As such, I would appreciate fellow authors and readers to give credit where credit is due and not steal any of my characters and/or concepts. Thank you, and have a pleasant day.

When Aporro finally started to wake up, she was groggy as hell, her eyelids heavy and her thoughts about as eloquent as the monosyllabic, drawn out grunts and groans that were issuing from the back of her throat, her lips glued together.

A dull sting in her neck made a picture of Szayel flash through her mind, and the image was immediately followed by one of her kicking Szayel's ass.

"You awake then, sis?"

Growling lowly in the back of her throat, Aporro peeled her eyes open and glared up at her mate's older brother, twitching when she saw how close he was.

Illforte grinned down at his 'sis' amusedly, tilting his head with she snarled up at him, "Aww, what's the matter, sis? Did bro shoot you up with sleepy juice again?"

Still not able to form a coherent thought, Aporro imagined kicking Szayel and Illforte's asses when she recovered.

Sniggering, Illforte moved to the other side of the bed and flopped down next to her, yawning widely and crossing his arms behind his head. Feeling the venomous glare the female Arrancar was shooting at him, Illforte propped one leg up and crossed the other over it, occupying himself with watching his foot as he twisted his ankle around and around.

"Bro asked me to keep an eye on you while he was working; didn't want you to try and go postal when you couldn't even lift yourself up properly."

Aporro glared at him, then remembered why anyone would think she would 'go postal' and started to struggle against her own deadweight body.

She had to finish reprimanding Vicenta for the fuckin' stupid ass stunt she'd pulled.

She had to get over whatever the hell Szayel had shot her up with and punish her daughter.

Illforte rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, watching as his brother's mate rocked back and forth with a deep scowl on her face. He quirked a brow when she managed to roll onto her side, then quirked the same brow even higher when she managed to roll right off of the bed.

Smirking amusedly, Illforte crawled over to the edge of the bed and peeked over, watching the stubborn female as she squirmed her way across the floor, managing to turn herself around and make her way to the door after twenty minutes of struggling.

"…Just what are you hopin' to accomplish in that state, sis?" The former Fraccion asked, propping his chin up on his hand and watching as Aporro wormed her way across the floor, "Hell, even your cat could take you like that; you really think you're gonna be able to even open the door?"

All he got in answer was her limp hand weakly flipping him off.

Illforte chuckled, standing slowly and swaggering over to his younger brother's mate just as she reached the door.

Before she could even start shimmying her way up the wall, Illforte slid his hand through her hair and grabbed her by the back of her neck, lifting her effortlessly and tossing her back onto her bed.

Aporro flopped back onto the bed with a grunt, her shoulders rolling back and her legs kicking up before she fell flat, her hair flopping across her face. "Forte…!!" She managed to grind out, long, pink locks falling across her crazed amber eyes as she glared at him.

"Sorry." Illforte chuckled, not sounding apologetic at all as he sauntered back over to the bed and flopped down directly on top of her.

Aporro grunted, her eyes fit to burst out of her head as she struggled against her step-brother's (technically brother-in-law but considering Aporro and Szayel weren't actually married…) intense weight. She sputtered when some of Illforte's long blonde hair found its way into her mouth, then paused to think before sucking the hair back in and clamping down on it with her teeth, jerking her head.

Illforte yelped and struggled as his hair was pulled, grabbing Aporro's shoulders and jerking back harshly to glare down at her.

Aporro smirked up at him, spitting out several long strands that had been torn from the roots.

The two siblings glared at one another with angry, dark grins, the blonde twitching and the pinkette triumphant.

In a flash, the tables had turned and Aporro was twitching while Illforte was triumphant, a fair chunk of long, pink strands dangling from the older Arrancar's fist.

The door opened in that moment and Szayel walked in, quirking a brow and looking between his mate and his brother as they both turned towards him with mixed incredulous, guilty and sheepish looks.

"…Just what is going on in here?" Szayel drawled after a moment, crossing his arms and staring at them both flatly.

"…She started it!" Illforte burst after a moment, pointing down at Aporro with the hand that was still holding her ripped-out hair.

Aporro, unable to counter or defend herself, just glared up at Illforte and stuck out the tip of her tongue at him, a blonde strand sticking to the wet muscle.

"…If I didn't know that it is impossible for Aporro to engage in a physically intimate relationship with another being…" Szayel purred, smirking as he strode into the room, "I'd almost have to say that something rather… salacious was just taking place in here."

"…Wha…?" Illforte frowned, confused, and looked back down at Aporro, twitching when he realized that he was pinning a mostly paralyzed female to her own bed with the full length of his body, the sheets around them twisted from their fighting. "Oh, ewww!"

Szayel watched amusedly as his brother shot off of the bed, squealing like a scandalized schoolgirl and brushing his uniform off as if he'd caught the dreaded 'cooties'.

"Bro, watch your own fuckin' mate from now on." Illforte grumbled haughtily, waving Aporro's hair off of his hand so he could shove his fists into his pockets and stomp towards the door, "Bitch's a fuckin' harpy."

Szayel stared after his brother with a contemptuously amused look and a quirked brow, then turned to his mate and smirked, walking over to their bed.

"Now, pet…" Szayel purred, reaching out a plucking the strands of his brother's hair from her mouth, his smirk sharpening slightly when she opened her mouth to let him, "What have I told you about putting things in your mouth when they don't belong?"

Aporro narrowed her eyes and pulled her lips back from her teeth, snapping when his fingers got close.

Szayel chuckled, grabbing her jaw firmly and dragging his cloth-gloved thumb across her lower lip.

The simple action seemed to undo the woman, because she closed her eyes and shuddered, her body relaxing.

Szayel's smirk warmed and his gaze turned molten. His eyes slowly raked her body as he slid one hip up onto the bed and leaned over her prone form, hair forming a light pink curtain around their faces as he drew closer.

"Vicenta…?" Aporro breathed against his lips, making Szayel blink and snap out of his haze.

"Taken care of." Szayel assured, the tip of one long finger tracing circles from the mask bone on her jaw down to her collarbone, "I've assigned her a proper guardian; one extremely detail oriented who will be sure to not let her out of his sight and report any odd happenings to me."

Aporro nodded slowly, watching lazily as he started unbuttoning her double-breasted white jacket. She still couldn't talk much or move at all, but she did manage, "Black box…?"

"We both analyzed it." Szayel answered, peeling her jacket aside slowly, "Thoroughly. I'll tell you about the results later, when you've completely recovered from the sedative."

Remembering just why she couldn't move to begin with, Aporro was about to snap at him when he placed his parted lips against her collarbone, teeth grazing gently and tongue dragging across her skin.

Aporro's eyes widened and she arched slightly, twisting as best she could and trying to get away from his skilled tongue.

Her mate, though, pressed his palms against her shoulders and forced her to lay flat on her back, his mouth moving across her until, breasts aside, not a single inch of the skin on her chest remained untouched.

"I believe, pet…" He murmured, pulling back and smirking down at her flushed face, "That there was a time when you would have loved nothing more than to have me in the position you are in now…"

"Just… a time…?" Aporro murmured, smirking.

"…Hah." Szayel's lips curled into a wicked smirk and he dragged his hand back up over her chest, threading his fingers through her long hair and watching as the strands slid off of his fingers.

Relaxing, Aporro laid back and closed her eyes, the methodic combing and dragging having a slightly hypnotic effect and making her drowsy.

Szayel watched as his mate went limp, smirking down at her and letting his eyes raze her form.

Being almost obsessive compulsive about memorizing every inch of every form, humanoid and non, that he had ever had to work on, Szayel knew exactly where to touch, caress and press lightly, firmly or even harshly to soothe her or get her worked up into a sexual frenzy.

Of course, more often than not the woman could do that on her own and Szayel wound up finding himself completely dominated after a long, harrowing day at work.

Today, however, was different…

Today, Szayel had drugged his mate until she couldn't form a complete sentence. She couldn't move, and thanks to one of the side effects of the drug he'd administered (enhanced thanks to a few minor tweaks to the chemical formula) she was more sensitive than ever.

And while it seemed like she was ready to sleep… Szayel was nowhere near tired.

Smirking down at his oblivious mate darkly, Szayel tapered off on combing through her hair and leaned in again, pressing his mouth to the juncture of her jaw and neck and sucking some of the skin in between his lips.

"Nnn…!" Aporro groaned in protest, weakly trying to writhe away from him, only to flinch and fall still when his hands grabbed her breasts and squeezed until it was almost painful.

"Not tonight, pet…" Szayel purred, pulling back and smirking down at her and the dark flush that stained her cheeks. "You're mine…"

Aporro had found the first two instances of being called 'pet' slightly arousing, but now it was just annoying. She narrowed her eyes and worked on building up the energy to snap at Szayel, only to have her efforts go to waste when she felt one long, firm stroke between her legs. Unable to open her mouth, Aporro tipped her head back and groaned loudly in the back of her throat, clamping her thighs together around Szayel's hand.

Szayel grinned down at her, the lenses of his mask flashing as he worked his fingers in slow, firm circles.

"Nnngh…!!" Aporro groaned and squirmed, her legs rolling over one another and her already strained breathing getting erratic.

"Peeee-eeeeet…" Szayel drawled, nuzzling her hair aside and wrapping his tongue around her ear, "Beg…"

Aporro's eyes flashed open and she glared at him, growling and managing to hiss out, "I will… fucking end you…" When her mate just chuckled, she took advantage of his close proximity and bit his neck. Hard.

Hissing when he felt his barely passable hierro threatening to slip, Szayel worked his fingers faster and bit her back, a shudder running down his spine at the ensuing groan.

Oh, the noises his mate made…

…Actually, now that his mind was on the subject, it struck him that his schedule was finally starting to clear up enough that he could get around to all of those marvelous experiments that he had planned out when Aporro had been human, much younger and much friskier, but hadn't ever had a chance to get around to before she'd had to become an Arrancar…

And, fortunately for him, his mate was still human-like enough in her mannerisms and devotion to him (not to mention her physicality) that he doubted the change in species would do much to invalidate his previous hypotheses…

And it certainly didn't hurt that his mate was mostly paralyzed and so receptive…

Szayel smirked.

Oh, the joys of being a scientist…

Szayel stared at the ceiling in a semi-listless state, slowly dragging the nail of his now no longer gloved left index finger up and down his mate's spine.

While he would have much preferred to be mulling over the findings of several of his admittedly (and enjoyably) lewd experiments, he instead found the problem with his daughter's earlier expedition rolling around in his mind.

Vasto Lorde…

Bluntly stated, Aizen had been a powerhouse that not even the collective body of the Espada would have ever hoped to defeat; while they each had their own motivations for joining the crazed shinigami, this fact remained part of the base.

Though few Hollows outside of the Las Noches territory would be able to identify him off of the tops of their heads, the shinigamification of Coyote Stark, Barragan Luisenbarn and Tia Halibel had left Aizen's name imprinted in the minds of most of the more knowledgeable Hollows, and certainly in a majority of the Vasto Lordes.

So why, two hundred or so years after the man's defeat, had there been so few sightings of the high-class Hollows?

True, their numbers were limited, but surely at least one would have approached them will ill-intent by now…

And yet, no assaults.

Scattered sightings and a few close encounters, but not so much as a discharged cero or a controlled attack by Adjuchas and Gillians ordered from the sidelines.

While Szayel would admit that he missed the war (that ghastly and utterly arousing chill that stirred his loins when he faced an enemy worth facing was a high he could never hope to replicate in his lab or on a sparring mat), he would also have to say that he was relieved that they hadn't been attacked…

…But he was also jaded of the absence of threat.

At this point, it was almost like an active volcano that had been resting for too long or a time bomb that should have detonated already but seemed to be taking its time…

He knew they were going to be attacked; he expected it. He had been expecting it ever since the first day he had walked into The Sanctuary with the full intent of using it as his permanent base, his pregnant human mate in his arms and her birthing blood running down his side.

The question was, what was going to be the trigger, and when…?

Against him, Aporro squirmed weakly and whimpered in protest, making Szayel's amber eyes flash down to her and his hand draw back.

A single drop of dark red, almost black stained the former Octava's finger and an angry red line traced downward on Aporro's spine.

Frowning, Szayel licked his thumb and smoothed out the line, signing softly when he saw it was already healing. Even as the scratch disappeared, Szayel turned his attention back to the blood on his finger and held the hand over his head, tipping it back and forth and letting gravity move the drop around.

When a still sleeping Aporro shifted against him, whining at his subtle movements, Szayel sighted and set the bloodied finger against his mouth, tracing and staining his lips.

Regardless of the 'what' and 'when', it would happen, and more than likely sooner than they would like.

They would have to prepare…

Szayel smirked, his tongue slipping out of his mouth to lick his lips clean before wrapping around his finger and slowly, sensually sucking the blood into his mouth.

He could hardly wait for the slew of corpses this new fight would create.

Fun in The Sanctuary~!

Holding Out…

It wasn't a fun game, Aporro was coming to realize.

While she was the one who had initiated this punishment (admittedly in a fit of blind rage), it was starting to occur to her that this was as painful for her as it was for him, and he was the one who had royally fucked up!

She has to find a way to fix this…

Cheating clearly wasn't an option: Not only would she never seriously consider it, she wouldn't be able to go through with it.

Self-pleasure was nothing compared to the real thing.

And flat out abstaining…

Wasn't working.

"Now Aporro…" Szayel purrs, his flattened palms gliding across her stomach, "One hundred years? You aren't even three hundred yet, and you haven't even been an Arrancar for twenty." One hand strays up towards her breasts while the other smoothes south, his hips rolling against her posterior, "You can't abstain."

Damn that man and his naturally salacious disposition…

And damn his skill with his tongue; that long, slick muscle sliding and curving over and around the shell of her ear, flicking, tracing, leaving a wet trail that quickly turns a delicious cold and sends a jolt to her breasts, making her nipples harden…

…Screw it.

Two can play the underhanded game.

After all, if there had been one thing she had spent a majority of her time doing after she'd first realized (as a human) that she had been extremely attracted to Szayel, it was cooling down sexual thoughts.

Cold showers…

Hamsters…

Infomercials with hairy-knuckled hand models…

Prune juice…

Aporro turns back to Szayel, plants her hand on his ass and thrusts her hips against his, gyrating slowly and leaning in close to whisper slowly, sensually into his ear…

"Old Man Yama in a g-string."

Flaccid in record time.

"…Oh, dear god…"

Oh, yeah, two can definitely play this game.