((Finally got a hold of a laptop I can use for teh smut. And that's exactly what's in this chapter. So, yeah.))

So, Grimmjow was, at this point, officially a whore. A dirty whore who I fucking hated.

"I'm finished, Inju," Orihime told me, after finishing healing up my mouth. I sat down in front of her, wiping at all the fucking blood staining my uniform and face, before looking up at her again.

"Thanks Orihime; sometimes, I'm sure I'd bleed to death without you." I wasn't kidding either. With all the trauma I was put through around here on a daily basis, it was obvious that I'd have needed a lot of help to not end up dead. I just wasn't as well-controlled as the other surviving hollows here seemed to be. Arrancar, I mean; they get bitchy when you don't call them Arrancar. She laughed a little, shaking her head.

"No no, Inju," She reassured me, laughing very softly, "You were fine before you met me, after all. You'd be fine."

I shook my head, but let it go and instead asked her, "So, Orihime; when did you and Ulquiorra get together?"

She sort of blushed then, and explained to me, with hand motions, that it had been her talking to him and him telling her to shut up, and her not stopping, and him finally giving up and listening to her. Then it had turned into something else from then on.

"Well, is he romantic? What's he say to make you feel better about yourself?" I asked.

"Um..." She replied, or at least, began to reply. "...He says it's Stockholm Syndrome."

I rolled my eyes. So romantic of him.

"That sounds just like Ukelala...I mean, Sir Cifer." I had to call him by his title now, I remembered. Besides, he might spear me through the face if he caught me calling him Ukelala. She laughed then, and it sounded genuine. I realized how exhausted her other laughs sounded now.

After that I left, more or less wandering. It'd been a little while since I got to Hueco Mundo again, and by then, Ichimaru had actually gotten ahold of alcohol. Don't ask me where he got it or how he got it, because I don't know, but he did and he gave me some. Well, a while back, but now I wanted it so I took the bottle he gave me. I'd hidden it in my room.

"Now where can I drink without someone showing up and being a fucker about wanting some?" I asked myself, still standing in my room. Then I looked at my window, and knew, instantly.

"Hah. The roof." Because who went on the roof anymore? Nobody went on the roof of Las Noches unless they were fighting, and that was only for the Espada, Cuatra rank and below. Or...above? Cuatra, Tercera, Segunda, Primera, and Cero, if Yammy ever got off his ass and did anything. They had to be outside the dome to do their release thing. So it was a good bet that I'd have peace and quiet up there.

I crawled out my window and sonido'd to the roof, making it up there. The roof was long and blank and clear. Too white to be comfortable. Almost looked like the roof was...well, milk, and you'd sink into it at any moment in time. I dropped right there, with my booze, and started drinking. The taste was a little off, but I didn't notice pretty quickly. It was so fucking cold up on that roof, but I didn't really notice it. I felt pretty warm, actually.

I didn't realize he was up there too until he fucking tripped me.

"What the-" I started, while falling mind you, and lost my grip on my booze. Hit the ground, because I was a liiiiitle bit drunk by then...maybe a little...and then rolled over, groaning and pissed. And there the fucker was, grinning at me, sitting down on the roof that looked like milk, and taking a huge fucking swig of my booze.

"Grimmjow!" I spat, already humphing and marching over towards him. He was sprawled out like a big cat, drinking all my fucking booze, like I've said. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Sexta?"

"I think I'm drinking your fucking booze, bitch," He told me, smirking, and I bristled. I stood at his left, and made a grab for my fucking sake, and he smirked and moved it juuust out of arm's reach. I made another grab, and another, and another, until I fucking tripped again and fell right on him. I was sprawled on his chest, face-to-face with him, and staring blankly. Both of us. And then, he grinned. I nearly spit in his face and, holding myself back for now, made another grab for the alcohol.

"Give it back, you cunt." I told him, ordered him really, and he laughed. Was he drunk? How much did he drink? A lot, I knew, but I didn't know how much.

"Come and take it." Grimmjow taunted, and I leaned over him to make another grab. Then I heard him snickering, and looked down at what was so fucking funny.

"What's so fucking funny?" I snapped. Then I saw him grinning, appreciatively, at the fact that I was straddling and at the same time leaning way over him, pretty much shoving my tits in his face. "You fucker," I snarled, moving to get off of him. I felt him grab the back of my uniform and pretty much slam me back down on top of him.

"Don't be such a bitch. You're gonna run off already?" He taunted, as I struggled to try and roll off of him, get up, get the fuck away.

"Yeah, I am, because you're a bastard," I snapped, but something was already off about me and how I felt. Warm...not warm, hot almost. And the feeling of his hand as he slipped it up the back of my shirt was...really weird. Almost nice. Grimmjow saw that, I think, because he kept his hand on my back, almost but not quite rubbing. Of course not. That would be nice, and Grimmjow is not nice. He's never been nice. I don't think he's even fucking capable of being nice.

"You ever notice that every sentence you say to me has you calling me something? A bastard or a fucker or a cunt?" He asked, and I didn't answer, staring down at his face this time. There was something there that looked...wild. Frenzied. "You keep fucking forgetting that I'm an Espada. A hell of a lot higher than Ulquiorra's Fraccion. Why don't you use some fucking respect?"

"Respect?" I snarled, and he just kept fucking grinning on, like he had some big secret that I'd never know. "What, you want me to call you 'Sir Sexta'?" I watched his face carefully, continuing my harsh glare. "You think I'll call you 'Master Grimmjow'? 'Lord Jeagerjaquez'? Well you can run off and play hide and go fuck yourself, because I ain't doing it."

Right about then, I realized he'd been a fucking lech and his hand was down the back of my hakama. But even the really soft touches he was doing felt...strong. Really strong. I leaned over, closer to his (now grinning) face, gritting my teeth and glaring at him.

"Lord Jeagerjaquez, I like that."

He caught me by the hair then, dragging me closer, pinning me right on top of him, all of my body against all of his. The heat was dizzying. He gave a really hard rub right then, right where he knew it counted, and I almost yelped. It turned into a growl.

"I think it's time you learned some fucking respect, Inju." He breathed in my ear, as I dug my nails into his shoulder. "You're always acting so fucking haughty. You think you're a goddamn queen? The closest thing to a queen Hueco Mundo has is that Inoue whore that Ulquiorra is fucking. You're nothing but a whore."

That was when I fucking reached up and punched him in the mouth. Pissed. I was so pissed.

"I am not a fucking whore!" I screamed at him, right in his face. "Maybe if you weren't a jealous fuck, then you'd fucking realize that! Are you fucking retarded or something??" Once I was done, he stared at me, not amused, not angry, just a stare.

"Don't believe you." He said this, point-blank, before I felt his fingers. And man, did I feel them. I did gasp then, because this was twenty times stronger than what I'd felt before, and while I was trying to figure it out, he took advantage of my distraction and caught that handful of my hair, jerking my head back painfully and running his tongue up my throat. The fact that his hands were heavily calloused from holding his sword just added to the friction. "Enjoying yourself?" He breathed into my ear, huskily.

"Why do you say that?" I groaned, jerking slightly with all his touches.

"Because you're grinding my hand like a bitch in heat." He was laughing, hotly and against my neck. I growled.

"You're the bitch in heat, Jeagerjaquez. I don't remember begging to fuck you, like all those Numero women do." I started, speaking breathily, but quickly. "Don't think the Arrancar don't know about all that rock star sex you have with four, five women at a time. You're the Whore of Las Noches."

I don't know if that pissed him off or amused him, but I think it might've pissed him off a little bit more, because to the two fingers he'd already worked into me, he shoved another one and it hurt. I yelped like a dog. Pretty sure he liked that.

"Oh, so you already know about that? Didn't you wanna join in?" Grimmjow teased, before pulling his fingers out and for a moment, I thought he was done, bored. A minute later, I felt really cold air on my thighs and saw him throw my pants over his shoulder, haphazardly.

"No," I snapped, twitching slightly. I heard ripping fabric as he tore off my underwear. "Hey, you know how hard it's going to be to get a new pair of those??" I snapped again, before he shoved his fingers in my mouth and shut me up.

"Shaddap. You do nothing but bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch. Did you know that?" I wasn't listening, staring at something off ahead of him. "All you do. I'm sick of it."

I wasn't listening. I was staring at what I knew was making me so whorish towards him. I knew, and I was pissed.

Gin Ichimaru fucking spiked my alcohol. I'm not sure if it was out of fun, or if he had something planned, or if he had planned this encounter with Grimmjow all along to make us quit fighting and make Grimmjow be less of a bitch to everyone. Either way, I was gonna kill him later.

"Pay attention." He didn't growl it, didn't bark it, but just...stated it. Calm-like. At that, I just fucking gave up. What the hell was the point of fighting it?

"Fine!" I screamed, at nothing at all, and surprising Grimmjow in the process. "You know what, I fucking give up!!" I shouted at absolutely nobody, maybe at Ichimaru and maybe at some intangible force that was playing the universe like a game and decided that this was a great way to use me. I looked back down at Grimmjow, sliding my way slowly backwards, staring him in the eyes. "You want to do this? Then fine, let's do this." I jerked down his hakama, and without thinking about it at all, took the bastard in my mouth.

Now it was almost funny, here. He wasn't expecting that, and gave a little jerk when I moved that fast. I gagged, but kept at it, making sure to scrape him with my teeth now and then. He didn't mind. The fucker loved it. I could tell, too, because he knotted his hand in my hair but let me do my thing. And what made me start humming around him was when I noticed that, from how his heels seemed to be scraping against the roof now and then, that the bastard was curling his toes. Was I really that good, or was he just hyped up on aphrodisiacs, like I was? Probably the second.

When I stopped, and he groaned with frustration at that, I grinned despite myself. It only lasted a moment though, because he glared at me as if about to ask, 'What the fuck?' Then he saw how I shoved him flat on his back and straddled him, preparing. And before I actually lowered myself onto him, I smirked and whispered exactly two words.

"I top."

It wasn't passionate, not really. Not even through how I dug my nails into his shoulders and arched my back, or how he dug his own nails into my hips and forced the pace faster and faster. It wasn't even passionate when he used one hand to keep stimulating me, and I bowed my head and practically screamed (damn Ichimaru and his drugs). It wasn't anywhere near passionate, or loving, or anything like that. We weren't 'making love'. We weren't 'soul-bonding'. We were fucking. Fucking like animals, and that's exactly what it was. Animalistic.

I came twice. Just once for him, because he was apparently a master of fucking. After I rolled off of him, tired and sweaty and so fucking fulfilled, I muttered, "It's cold out here."

"Suck it up, buttercup." I think I heard him murmur, and I knew he must've been drunk by then. "It's always cold in Hueco Mundo." And that's how we stayed, for a good long while, sleeping on the roof. Because it's different here than anywhere else.

In Seireitei, they make love.

On Earth, they have sex.

But in Hueco Mundo...we fuck.