Title: Say Please

Author: paws_bells

Beta-ed by: MelissaRose85

Characters/Pairing: Sarugaki Hiyori and Hirako Shinji

Type: One-shot (Complete)

Genre: Romance/Humor

Word Count: 7462

Rating: M (Contains content suitable for mature teens and older) SMUT WARNING!

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite.

Summary: "No matter how strong minded a woman is, she will show kindness to the man she loves." Mild spoilers for chapter 545. Dedicated to the wonderful d-cocovet on tumblr.

Created on: 11/07/13

Completed on: 12/07/13

Chapter Last Revised on: 15/07/13

Say Please

Not surprisingly, Hachi was the first to register his presence when he stepped through the familiar barrier that encased the Vizard warehouse. The large but gentle soul smiled simply in welcome.

"Goteijusantai Gobantai Taichou, it's been awhile," the Kido expert acknowledged in his calm, kind tone.

Hirako Shinji smirked slightly as he raised his hand in a flamboyant salute of greeting. Even in his billowing white Captain haori and the traditional, somber black shihakusho that covered his long, lean frame, the deceptively carefree aspect of his personality refused to be subdued, as evidenced by the dandyish modifications that had been made to his Shinigami uniform.

"Yo. Long time no see, Hachi. And there's no need for such formalities. How's life treating ya?"

The rotund, pink-haired man inclined his head slightly. "It's pretty good," he admitted. "More or less peaceful so far, at least until recently. But you already know that, don't you, Hirako Taichou?"

After all, it was the golden-haired male who had very recently called to involve them in an effort to contain the latest crisis that plagued Soul Society. Shinji shrugged. "Eh. What can I say? There's plenty of shit to go around these days, might as well shovel some of it over to you guys. Peaceful is boring, some excitement is better, yeah?"

Hachi smiled again. "I do not mind lending my assistance at all, Hirako Taichou, but Hiyori and the others may beg to differ."

At that, the small grin on Shinji's face faltered slightly and he fought the instinctive urge to wince, his nose already tingling with phantom pain derived from innumerous harsh meetings with the sole of a small, deceptively flimsy flip flop that was only about as delicate as its onerous owner. He recovered with admirable grace and speed, though. "Speaking of which, where are the rest?"

"Love and Lisa are still out, but Hiyori returned a few hours ago," Hachi replied from the kitchen chair that he was currently occupying. "Out of curiosity, did you just come over from Urahara's?"

"Yeah, I did. I came to the Living World specifically to speak to him 'bout something."

Hachi nodded in understanding.

"So, that means you are here for an unofficial visit, then? A side stop? No special instructions for us?"

Shinji shook his head. "Nah. I'm just here to see my old friends, no hidden agendas whatsoever. For now, at least," the Shinigami Captain replied with a slight, easygoing grin. "This is a bad time, though, since the other two are not in and I only got to see you. Snaggletooth's around, you say?"

The deliberate casualness in his tone would have fooled just about anyone who was not aware of the intimate relationship between the two blondes, but Hachi was only too polite to point it out. It had taken more than a hundred years and a near death experience on Hiyori's part to finally force the constantly squabbling couple to acknowledge their affection for each other, and even though their relationship (only a little under two years and counting) was still considered relatively new in terms of Soul Society's standards – the so called 'honeymoon' stage – there didn't seem to be any change in the pair's interactions with each other.

They still yelled at and fought with each other like juvenile adversaries (complete with incomprehensibly childish antics), though Shinji appeared to have stopped propositioning every pretty girl he met, and Hiyori, too, was just a little less hostile and belligerent towards the world in general. Other than that, it was business as usual for the couple, and for a pair of loud, flamboyantly brash individuals, they kept the specifics of their romantic relationship so surprisingly low profile and tightly under wraps that it was impossible for anyone to tell what was going on between the two of them, let alone for individuals other than the Vizards themselves to accurately discern that, yes, Hirako Shinji and Sarugaki Hiyori were, in fact, an item. The fact that their unofficial leader had returned to Seireitei to fill the captaincy post of the Fifth Division whereas his significant other was more than content to remain as she was in the Living World made their relationship slightly more complicated than it already was, but they seemed to thrive on it, both remarkably unconcerned about the distance issue.

Due to their relatively youthful appearances (and at times immature shenanigans), it was often difficult to remember that they were both old souls – she at least a couple of centuries old, he even older - so while most humans would not even be able to comprehend the unusual bond between the two, Hachi thought that he understood. Time was all they had, after all, and they were both satisfied with the current status of their relationship; this was not a pair that thrived on codependency – if anything, it was the opposite. They clearly enjoyed chaos and conflict, and like a pair of jagged, erratic pieces that somehow fit together in discordant disharmony, they were perfect counterparts for each other.

"Yes, Hiyori is somewhere in the warehouse. I'm not sure where, though," the portly pink-haired Vizard replied at last. The two men exchanged a bit more small talk before Hachi stood up from his seat. "It's nice to see you again, Hirako Taichou. I'm afraid I have to cut this short; I have a prior appointment with Tessai-san. But please feel free to remain as long as you like; as always, the barrier around the warehouse is spelled for you to enter and exit at your leisure."

Despite the blonde's dismissal of the formalities, there was still a slightly stilted, disconnected air that had formed between himself and his ex-comrade. It was not Hachi's fault, however – no matter what Shinji said, he was now a Captain of the Gotei 13 once again – he had chosen his side – and there was a need to maintain an appropriate distance. It was no doubt the same with Love and Lisa as well, and even though it saddened Shinji slightly, he made no further attempt to pursue the issue.

Watching as Hachi politely made his excuses and left, the golden-haired Shinigami/Vizard hybrid turned and went off in search of his pint-sized lover. There was nothing that could raise his spirits (usually of the combative variety) faster than his little monkey, and after months of not seeing her, he was quite eager to get her all riled up in person and ready to commit murder. Phone calls were good for long distance communication and all (last he spoke to her, her lung power was as fearsome as always, showcasing her vitality and good health) but there was still nothing better than being physically present to see how red she could turn while he gleefully pushed all of her (many) trigger buttons.

Walking into the familiar barracks that housed the living areas of the Vizards, he headed straight for her room and was surprised to find it completely empty. Even a good portion of her possessions were missing, and slightly baffled, he backed out of the room and stood briefly in the hallway, pondering the possible ramifications of what he had just seen, when he noticed that the door to his old bedroom was shut. Curious, he approached the closed doorway and wrapped his fingers around the metallic knob, then quietly turned it and pushed the door open. His golden eyes widened slightly in surprise – and then pleasure.

Hiyori had taken up residence in his old room, and even though the layout remained mostly unchanged, it was now cluttered up with the odds and ends of her belongings as well. It also didn't take him long to find the woman he had been looking for – lying on his bed, curled up in a defensive ball (even in sleep she was a prickly little thing) was the brat he claimed as his own. She was completely passed out at the moment, deeply asleep, her feathery blonde hair let out of its bristly pigtails and falling wispily around her face, softening her usually fierce features. The pervert in him also immediately noted the fact that she only had on a large, comfortable men's dress shirt, and upon closer inspection, he was quickly filled with masculine delight to realize that she was wearing one of his old shirts. She was so small though, that the fabric all but dwarfed her – it was downright adorable, not that he would ever admit it aloud to her (unless he wanted to be killed brutally), and at the same time, it gave him a fierce primal rush to see her so blatantly marked as his.

His little monkey was not the easiest person to get along with, and it had taken quite some time before they had finally achieved a nice balance in their personal relationship. She was proud and violent and aggressive, but the fact that she had moved into his room and had even gone so far as to secretly wear his old clothes to bed spoke more to him than any endearments or words of affection could say, not that she would ever be willing to speak such disgustingly mushy things.

Venturing further into the room, he slipped the door silently shut behind him and watched her briefly. It was not often that he caught her so unguarded, and a part of him was tempted to find a permanent sharpie and start doodling on her face. The rest of him, however, had more adult intentions in mind, and since she was looking so cute and defenseless – like a fluffy, napping little kitty – he just wanted to get closer.

Freeing the sheathed Sakanade from the sash around his waist with a single, graceful movement, he proceeded to lean his zanpakuto against the wall closest to the bed, right beside her Kubikiri Orochi, well within reaching distance. Easing off his waraji and tabi, the Captain haori with the kanji 'Five' emblazoned boldly on its back was next to go, shrugged off in a near silent whisper of fabric and draped over the one and only armchair in the room. His heavy white robe and cravat followed after, and last were the black kosode and hakama. He shed each garment with the swift, methodical ease of frequent practice, until he was only wearing the thin white under robe of his Shinigami uniform.

Hiyori slept through it all, and she did not even stir when he slunk into her bed. It was only when he settled beside her and was snaking an arm around her middle to pull her close that she finally grew lucid enough to respond.

Out of habit, he simply tilted his head to the side to let the small but incredibly powerful fist fly by harmlessly, and then continued to tug her flush against his chest. She started to grow stiff with increasing hostility until he released his tightly controlled reiatsu, unceremoniously announcing his identity. She quickly wiggled around and wasted no time cuffing him hard across the head then.

"You shithead," she growled lowly, her voice deliciously husky from sleep. Even her usually sharp, catlike ochre eyes were still hazy and possessed a drowsy quality, and a soft flush colored her face.

"Hello to you too, brat," he grumbled back, but did not retreat no matter how she bristled. His decades of experience handling this little hellcat told him that now was the best time to cuddle her close, when she was still only semi aware of her surroundings and her volatile mood was tempered by sleep. There was an art to holding Hiyori; she was like a scruffy little feral cat most of the time, always hissing and spitting, baring sharp claws and fangs, but if he timed his approach correctly, then even she would willingly settle down in his arms.

"How dare you just creep in here like that!? I haven't even settled with you for dumping that stupid task to seal the distortion between the Living World and Soul Society on us, and you think you can just crawl back here anytime you like, you asshole?!"

"I didn't crawl anywhere. I walked like a normal person, thank you very much," he corrected her levelly, though judging by her increasingly red features, she hardly appreciated his levity. "And besides, this is still my bedroom, you know."

This time, the redness on her face was less from anger and more from chagrin. He was tempted to tease her about her fascinating choice of attire as well, but decided to save it for later in the interest of preserving the peace for now. Besides, her furious squirming and other unhappy movements had managed to dislodge the large shirt somewhat from her shoulder, in the process baring a whole lot of smooth skin as well as the beginnings of her modest chest, and he was male enough to appreciate the ravishing sight that she currently presented, ferocious glower and all.

"We'll talk about that later," he placated, and she continued to frown at him. "Lemme nap for a bit first; I haven't slept at all since yesterday. I'm completely pooped."

"Then go back to fuckin' Seireitei and sleep there," she complained crassly. "Why did you even come here?"

"Why, you ask?" he repeated, peeling open one golden eye to look at her drolly. "If you think hard enough, I'm sure you'll find your answer, Snaggletooth."

She scowled at him, the light flush on her face darkening just a shade. She puffed out her cheeks stubbornly, still irritable, visibly reluctant to let up on him. Obviously, a distraction of some form was in order, and luckily enough, he knew just the thing. She did not resist when he pulled her close, and just watched him with warily curious eyes as he bared her neck and pressed his mouth to the warm skin there. Then, he nipped her lightly and her body promptly betrayed her.

She quivered.

Flustered, her hands slammed up to his chest to shove him away, but he refused to budge. "Get off of me, baldy!" she snapped, her cute little fang showing prominently as she tried to escape from his arms but to no avail. For a deceptively tall, lanky man, he was very strong. Of course, she promptly tried to kick him between the legs next, but he had already anticipated her move and quickly had her pinned lightly against the bed, straddling her smaller form at the hips and holding her arms over her head with one large, long fingered hand.

"Nuh-uh. Remember our deal? No violence in bed. Bad girl," he told her with a teasing tsk. Her face reddened further, and she looked very much in danger of letting out a torrent of swear words anytime soon. "No name calling either, you agreed."

And she had. It certainly hadn't been easy tricking it out of her – he had to defeat her in battle to get her to submit willingly to him – but he had managed it in the initial stages of their tentative relationship, and now, she could not go back on her word, much to her frustration.

"I'm not name calling," she burst out at last. "Shithead's an endearment!"

"Find a better one," he told her, beginning to feel very amused by her increasingly trapped expression. "Personally, I prefer 'Ouji-sama' myself, but if you can't manage that, then 'Shinji-kun' works just fine too."

She stopped struggling altogether and just gave him an utterly disgusted look. "Fuck off!" she blurted out.

"Language, brat," he berated lightly, leaning over her at the same time. Then, he lowered his golden head and bit down lightly on her bared shoulder next. She gasped, her stomach tightening at the exquisite sensation. Her eyes darkened when he brushed his mouth against her skin, his free hand lazily caressing her bare thigh at the same time. Her breathing quickened and her hands curled into fists by her sides. He kissed her scapulae, then her clavicle, her neck; slow, open mouthed kisses with hints of tongue and teeth, and a shaky sigh escaped her.

The earlier playful mood was dissipating fast; he was intent now, his half lidded, golden eyes sharpening with acute interest as he focused his attention on the small female sprawled under him. He lifted his head slightly from the side of her neck and slowly, deliberately, nipped the edge of her jaw this time, fully aware of how sensitive she was to such ministrations, and she quickly snapped.

One moment he was the aggressor, and the next, she had pulled free of his hold and he was shoved unceremoniously onto his back. She was on him in an instant, a fierce little growl thrumming at the back of her throat, straddling his lean, narrow hips and smashing her mouth against his. Like everything else she did in life, she was aggressive in her passion, straightforward and completely unapologetic, and he knew exactly what to do to draw it right out of her. Her neck, shoulders and upper back were her erogenous zones; for a seemingly childlike body, her trigger often hit her so hard and fast that the first time he unknowingly unleashed her on himself, the experience that resulted right after nearly made his head spin from the sheer intensity of it.

His little brat was an animal in bed. But then again, so was he.

He welcomed her raw, unfettered desire for him, encouraged it, inflamed it with his own, his spiritual pressure flaring with pleasure, cast out like a net and deliberately ensnaring hers tightly. His long, narrow hands came up to frame her face, holding her in place so that he could ravage her mouth with hunger, but she bit him the moment he tried to take control and quickly pulled away instead. Licking the tiny drops of his blood from her reddened mouth, she leaned back and gave him a cocky little smirk.

"I'm gonna make you beg for it," she told him huskily.

Shinji slowly ran his tongue across his lower lip where she had nicked him. The metallic tang of blood stirred his senses and aroused the wilder emotions in him. He chuckled, his eyes glowing with the intensity of his growing lust.

"I welcome you to try."

She gave him a toothy grin, and before he could react, she moved. His cravat that had been abandoned on the side table was snatched up and, in less than a blink of an eye, she had his hands tightly bound to the bedposts over his head, much to his surprise. Sitting back on her heels to survey her handiwork, she seemed quite smugly pleased with what she saw.

"There. Now you're my prisoner."

He raised his brow, looking utterly at ease despite being tied up.

"Tch. You do know that this is not gonna hinder me at all, right?"

"Yeah? But ya shitty piece of neck cloth costs a fortune, right? If you force your way out; it'll tear."

Damn. She had a point there.

Her grin widened, and she licked her lips.

"Hmm…I wonder what I should do next…?" Her small hands trailed over his chest and settled over the thin knotted sash of his shitagi. "Let's get this off."

Very slowly, she undid the cloth belt, then slid her palms beneath the lapels of the under robe and eased the fabric off him inch by inch. His rangy, toned form was revealed to her hungry eyes, his body taut and warm under her hands, and he watched her face with smug masculine pride as desire flushed her cheeks and darkened her gaze. He caught her eye then, and gave her a cheeky smirk. "You sure you won't be the one begging in the end, brat?"

She flushed further, and then she frowned. "We will see," she threw back at him, and left him completely bare but for the fundoshi that protected his modesty.

"You know," he told her almost conversationally then, perfectly comfortable despite being bound to the bedposts. "If I'm the only one getting naked here, then I don't think I'm gonna be very excited for long. Just sayin'."

Damn. He was right.

Hiyori paused, looking slightly uncertain. This seducing thing was not coming to her as easily as she thought it would.

"Perhaps you should perform a striptease," he suggested helpfully, and promptly got an alarm clock right in the face as a result.

"Shut up!" she yelled at him, indignant that he was still trying to tell her what to do. Kneeling between his legs, she reached for the hem of her garment and defiantly tugged it over her head in one swift maneuver, in the process, revealing that she had been wearing absolutely nothing at all under his old dress shirt.

Shinji stared.

It was not the first time he had seen her naked, but she had always had that undeniable effect on him, and having her so close and completely nude before him was already making his blood heat up in ways not even the most beautiful women in the world could. Her form was small and lithe, her legs slender and long for her height, her hips softly curved and shapely. Contrary to popular belief, she actually possessed a delicate and feminine build under that shapeless, tomboyish tracksuit that she commonly favored. She was also not entirely flat like an airport runway like most had assumed; she had a tiny bosom, yes, but it was just perfect for her slight, fae-like build and more than enough to prove that she was a woman through and through. Her waist was absolutely tiny and, as always, she looked like a little doll to him, so deceptively fragile but yet held enough strength in her to fight and ferociously defend those around her if need be. It never failed to astound him that there was such fierce pride and spirit encased in that small body of hers.

"There. Ya happy now?" she demanded, tossing his shirt to the floor. "I'm ignoring you from here on. You just sit there and watch."

He wanted a show, didn't he? She would give him one he wouldn't forget anytime soon. Hopefully, those magazines of Lisa's were correct and men actually liked to see what she was about to do. Hiyori took a deep, calming breath and emptied her mind of her frustrations, then closed her eyes and visualized her lover right in front of her, exactly as she would sometimes during those lonely nights where her body was aching for his attention and he wasn't around to satisfy her needs.

She was going to ignore him? How was that going to work, he wondered with curious amusement, and then his eyes widened with dawning realization when she slowly, tentatively, started to touch herself. The light bulb over his head abruptly blinked on with stark clarity. Suddenly, this wasn't all that funny anymore.

She started out small at first, tilting her head slightly to the side and baring the slender column of her neck to his view, then unhurriedly caressing her throat and collarbone with tender fingers. Her face was already starting to flush, her other hand playing teasingly with the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. The slender digits on her neck drifted downwards to her chest, her hand covering and lightly squeezing one small, perfectly formed breast before nimble fingers plucked and played with the rosy nipple, already beaded and tightly puckered from the cold air, sensitive beyond belief. A small, shivery breath escaped her lips, a growing expression of pleasure seeping into her upturned face as she concentrated on the sensations wrought on her aroused body.

Shinji was watching her intently now, no longer smiling, as she pleasured herself. The fingers of her other hand were drawing little circles higher and higher up the flesh of her inner thigh, and he stared, dry mouthed, as she slowly parted her lean legs just a bit more to reveal the moist, dewy treasure sitting at the apex. She slowly, lazily, probed at the sleek flesh with her index finger, then parted herself and rubbed her thumb over the small little bud that sat high over her labia, now flushed and blood-filled with growing excitement and arousal. A small grimace creased her forehead as she struggled to hold on to the fleeting sensations of pleasure, and then she let out a quiet moan when she finally slipped a finger into herself. Her hips twitched as she slowly moved the small digit in and out of her body, and propping her heels against the bed to stabilize herself, she spread her legs apart just a bit wider, then eased another finger into her tight channel, biting her lower lip to stifle the little pleasured mew that followed.

His ears caught the arousing sound as surely as if he was the one who had caused it. Fuck. Fuck. He was stiff with tension and arousal as he watched her continue to touch herself, a look of wondrous rapture covering her heated features, her eyes still squeezed tightly shut as she masturbated.

He wondered what she was thinking at that moment, who she was seeing behind her eyelids, and suddenly, he was quite infuriated by his restraints.

"Brat," he hissed then, catching her attention at last. Her eyes slowly opened, the rich ochre dazed and fogged up by alluring lust, and for a moment, he didn't think that she even registered his presence.

"Release me," he demanded, and she blinked at him languidly.

"No," she said at last, much to his outrage, her voice a bit breathless from her sexual exertions. "I don't think so. You aren't begging yet."

He gritted his teeth, and then, much to his disbelief, she continued to touch herself, this time staring right at him with her darkened, hungry eyes as she did so. He froze in place, his attention completely fixed on what she was doing to herself, the blood rushing in his ears – the little sounds she was making – the scent and sight and smell of her making him almost dizzy with reciprocating desire for her. The need to touch her himself was getting overwhelming, and all he could think of was to hell with it; if she wanted him to beg, then he would gladly worship her on his hands and knees.

"Hiyori," he gritted out at last. "Please."

She smiled in victory, a devious little grin that immediately made him want to catch her and pin her right under him there and then.

"No," she said slowly again, much to his twitch of disbelief, pure mischief coloring her tone. "I don't feel like letting you go right now."

It was obvious that the little minx had forgotten just who she was dealing with.

Shinji did not even hesitate. There was an abrupt, distinct sound of tearing fabric, and then, before she could react, she was already caught and pulled under him. She squawked in surprise, her eyes widening in shock. He chose to ruin his cravat!

"You, are a very naughty girl," he breathed in her ear then, and she shivered. He took the hand that she had been using to touch herself earlier and immediately engulfed her index and middle fingers in his hot mouth, his tongue lapping at the damp evidence of her arousal-coated digits and causing her breath to hitch. He pulled her fingers out with a pop, now slick with his saliva, and then he gave her a narrow-eyed stare.

"You'd better have been thinking of me when you were putting on that lovely little show just now," he muttered, and she smirked.

"Yeah, and if I was?" she challenged lightly. "Who else did you think I was thinking of, dumbass? Will you hurry up and fuck me now?"

"I'm not going to fuck you. I'm going to love you," he corrected her. He was surprisingly straight-laced when it came to such matters.

"Same difference," she huffed, and since he seemed to be more interested in talking than doing, she impatiently lifted her head and kissed the side of his mouth, nipping him lightly in the process. Her hands slipped down to his narrow waist to ease him out of his underwear, tugging the cloth loose and freeing him from the confines of the fundoshi. Much to her pleasure and excitement, he was already fully erect and turgid, though before she could touch him, he pulled her hands away.

"No brat, there's a difference," he told her, and then he was kissing her so hard that she very quickly forgot about what they were talking about. His mouth worked magic on hers, his thin lips slanting against her own again and again, igniting a fierce fire between the two lovers. He was being very dominating and possessive, his pierced tongue sweeping into her mouth and claiming her with thorough, decisive heat and desire – it turned her on like nothing could. He was so much larger than her admittedly diminutive self, and when he held her down like that, she could sense nothing but him. He surrounded her wholly, and she felt like she was drowning in him. The complete loss of control in exchange for absolute pleasure was both terrifying and amazing at the same time, and even though it been almost two years since she had first jumped him and lost her virginity to him, she still felt that same wondrous thrill.

His big hand with those long, narrow fingers engulfed her chest then, the warm, callused palm brushing against her sensitive nipple, and she arched into his touch, a muffled sound of want reverberating from her throat. He pulled his mouth away from hers and ducked down, his hot mouth covering her other rosy nipple, his wet tongue swirling against the hardened tip with hungry fervor, his lips wrapped around the tender flesh and suckling furiously, and she jerked under him.

"Shit- Shinji!" she hissed, nearly coming undone there and then. Her hands flew up to his hair, fingers tangling amongst the fine, golden strands so unlike her own thicker, unrulier hair, and holding on for dear life, the smaller blonde nearly jumped out of her skin when he spread her legs apart, cupped her with his hand, and then quickly pushed his middle finger right into her, so deeply that his knuckle rubbed against her slick entrance. He curled the long digit that he had inside her, and Hiyori squeezed her eyes shut and nearly bit through her tongue to keep from yelling at the unexpected pleasure. He started to move his hand then, making sure to stroke her thoroughly from the inside, and she moaned helplessly.

Oh god.

Lifting his head from her breast, the Shinigami watched his lover writhe under him, the look on her face stark with pleasure and lust, and had to check himself from the instinctive urge to react to her incredibly sexy expression, her feline ochre eyes severely dilated, her cheeks flushed, her lips red, her hair spread around her like a golden halo. He was very aroused; she felt so slippery and warm and tight around his finger, and it had been so long since he last had her. Sliding another finger into her snug passage, he prepared her for his lovemaking, priming her small body for penetration – she was so delicate compared to himself, and a part of him was always mindful not to hurt her whenever they had sex. She never seemed to care about that though, and, much to his chagrin, gave every indication that she liked it better when he was being rough with her.

Hiyori felt like she was about to explode with pleasure very soon. He was teasing her badly – she was so close but he was intentionally withholding, touching her so slowly and deliberately that she was going to go mad from the tension.

"S-Shinji," she stuttered in a low growl, narrowing her eyes at him, her slender body quivering under his. "Bastard! Fuck me already!"

He kissed her adorable freckles; this was about the only time he could do so without getting clawed in the face by his highly volatile woman.

"Hm?" he hummed with feigned disinterest. "I already told you, brat. Language."

She looked like she wanted to punch him then. How dare he appear so calm when she was feeling so frantic and restless and going utterly mad with lust?!

"I don't give a flying fu- fig!"

He gave her an innocently inquiring look, inwardly amused by her desperation. He would probably pay later for teasing her, but she was extremely cute like this.

"You don't like this? I'm giving you something to think about the next time you decide to touch yourself." He crossed the fingers that were still embedded in her and then wiggled them, watching with pure masculine pleasure as she keened helplessly in response.

"Shinji," she gritted out, her entire body shaking from the intensity of her desire for him.

"Hiyori," he whispered back, leaning in close. "Say please."

Her eyes locked with his glittering golden ones, now completely devoid of his earlier playfulness, and she bit her lip, need and pride warring briefly inside her.

Need quickly won out. Pride was a cold bedmate, after all, and she had missed him.

"Please," she burst out at last, the willing surrender in her voice so sweet to his ears. "Please, Shinji. Love me."

He smiled slowly, and tender affection colored his low tenor. "Your wish is my command."

Pulling his slick fingers out of her body, he braced his weight on a forearm placed beside her head and settled himself between her thighs. She drew up her legs, the insides of her knees brushing against the sides of his narrow waist, and then she reached down and wrapped her small hand around his hard length. Despite his deceptively nonchalant demeanor earlier, he was painfully aroused. She squeezed him lightly, and a minute shiver ran through his lean, rangy frame. Tense, he mounted her, and she guided him to her waiting entrance. He paused and looked at her.

"Hiyori." It was a question.

She quickly nodded her consent, and he started to enter her.

Her body was tight, hot, and clung to him like a second skin. Shinji felt like he was in heaven and hell at the same time. She was small and so snug, and her taut, inner muscles rippled around him as he penetrated her, as if trying to resist his invasion of her and pull him in even deeper at the same time. At last, he hilted himself completely in her, stilling briefly to enjoy the intoxicating sensation, but she quickly started to squirm impatiently under him.

"Move," she demanded hoarsely, her ochre eyes glowing with passion, and he obliged. His long-fingered, narrow hands grasped her hips firmly, holding her down on the bed as he slowly withdrew from her, inch by glorious, painstaking inch; the delicious friction made his spine tingle with pleasure and a husky groan spill from his throat. She arched under him, her back curving beautifully from the mattress, her hands fisting the sheets, an answering whine forming on her lips, her expression one of carnal rapture.

He leaned over and caught her mouth in a hungry kiss, swallowing her cries of passion as he started to move in earnest, joining back with her once more with a strong flex of his lean flanks, then separating, repeating the motions again and again and again, gaining speed and momentum as lust and need quickly took over. She moved along with him, wrapping her legs around his waist, her slender ribcage rising up and down quickly as she panted with exertion, struggling against him for more of the intoxicating ecstasy. His thrusts were sure and powerful, driving her further into the bedspreads with each hard jerk of his hips, but she took them all with eager fervor, grinding against him frantically in return as the hot, liquid tension building in her lower belly grew more and more.

It felt so damn good.

She broke the kiss then, turning her face into his shoulder and sinking her teeth into corded muscle there. He hissed, his fingers digging into her hips, but he did not stop moving. He filled her so completely, and she was starting to become overwhelmed by his size and form.

"Shinji," she gasped helplessly against his skin, very close to the edge. He, too, was starting to feel the familiar urgency quickening his blood; the way her body was gripping him drove him absolutely insane – she was wrapped tightly around him like a velvet glove, her inner muscles grasping him with such amazing heat and slickness that he didn't think that he could bear it for very long. Still intimately joined to her, he wrapped a strong arm around her waist and abruptly reversed their positions, rolling under her so that she was now astride him.

She gasped, her body immediately twitching at the physical stimuli. Their new position meant that he now sat even deeper inside of her, and the mixed feeling of both pain and pleasure when the tip of his arousal hit the opening of her cervix was intense. Her hands flew up to his broad shoulders to steady herself, her fingers digging into the taut flesh there as heady euphoria hit her. His large hands spanned her small waist completely, and he lifted her clear off of his erection before quickly pulling her back down again, forcing her to ride him. She swiftly got the idea and started to move on her own accord, rising over him with eager fervor, her face flushed from her physical exertions but displaying such sexual sensuality that he could only stare at her incredibly expressive features, growing even more aroused than before, if that was even possible.

Then, he slipped his hand between their perspiration slicked bodies, reaching towards where they were intimately joined, and gently tweaked the tight little nub that guarded the entrance of her core. Already strung so tight with sexual tension, his tender ministrations quickly proved to be her breaking point.

She screeched her release to the ceilings, going wild against him, becoming utterly undone. Her orgasm rocked her completely, and she arched, her head thrown back in an intense moment of ecstasy even as her body convulsed helplessly with the force of her climax. She clamped down on him like a vice, her slick vaginal muscles contracting furiously around his erection. A flood of warmth swelled in her womb and her heart pounded loudly in her ears, though before she could even start to recover, he was there to reignite her passions once more.

"Again, Hiyori," he spoke huskily by her ear where she had finally collapsed against his chest. "Show me that beguiling expression again."

She was still shaking like a leaf when he started to move once more, this time achingly slow, each sinful glide of his rigid length against the hypersensitive nerve endings of her spent body immediately setting off all sorts of pleasurable sensations in her. Now that her initial frenzy was sated, she was quieter now, still trembling helplessly in his arms, soft, barely audible moans escaping her as he continued to make love to her. Her ochre, catlike eyes were dazed with passion, and she turned her head towards his shoulder, this time to slowly lick at the thin trail of blood that trickled there. She had broken skin when she bit him earlier in her excitement, and now her soft tongue lapped up the drying crimson liquid with exquisite gentleness, tasting the salty, copper-ish mix of his blood and perspiration. She shuddered, then lifted her head slightly to brush her mouth against his neck, nosing along his jawline, almost meekly, shyly.

She could be so incredibly charming if she wanted to, and this side of her that no one else was allowed to see captivated him.

His little brat was momentarily docile, and he rewarded her good behavior with sheer pleasure, long fingers playing with her clitoris even as his other hand laid claim over her small breasts, massaging the tender flesh and at the same time baring her neck and slowly kissing her in places that he knew she was extremely sensitive at. It wasn't long before her breathing quickened once more, her movements becoming incredibly restless with the onset of yet another orgasm, her snug, grasping channel squeezing even tighter around his turgid form, and this time, he answered the irresistible siren call of her body.

He started to increase the pace of his thrusts, rocking against her urgently, holding her hips tightly as he quickly moved in and out of her. She struggled to match him, grunting softly as he pistoned his way past her rippling inner walls, her mouth parted in soft pants, her heart rate skyrocketing as the knot in her stomach wound tighter and tighter, until she was suddenly beset by the powerful rush of her sexual fulfillment. This time, she muffled her cries of satisfaction against his neck, going completely stiff even as her dizzying release quickly precipitated his own. Her sleek, slippery passage convulsed around him frantically, rippling uncontrollably and clenching him hard at the height of her climax, and his own powerful orgasm quickly took hold of his body, pushing him to drive hard into her one last time, sheathing himself deeply inside of her as her body did its best to milk him of his essence. He groaned into her hair even as he spent himself in her, and for the next few minutes the room was completely quiet safe for the harsh breathing of the mated couple.

Then, once Hiyori was quite sure that her legs were no longer wobbly and would not fold under her weight (he always made her legs go weak, damn him), the small blonde immediately tried to pull away from her lover. Unfortunately for her, Shinji had already anticipated her reaction and therefore did not allow her to retreat at all – she always tried to run after they made love, and after the first few times of her bailing on him, he had quickly wised up to her antics.

"Where do you think you are going?" he asked her rhetorically, since she was not going anywhere if he had any say in the matter. "We haven't even cuddled yet."

She immediately looked aghast, knowing that this would happen but yet unable to stop it. "We are not going to cuddle!" she yelped in protest, visibly embarrassed by the topic. She definitely had her priorities ass backwards in his opinion; so surprisingly nonchalant about intercourse, but completely prickly and defensive when it came to other nonsexual forms of physical affection.

"Of course we are," he reasoned with a perfectly straight face, pulling her close despite her increasingly violent struggles. "Do I have to go through this with you again? It's the rule, you know; after you spend that magical moment with the love of your life, you have to cuddle. They call it 'post-coital propinquity' or something."

Hiyori's response was to shove her palm right in his face to try to ward him off, but to no avail.

"What magical moment?! And you are not the love of my life!"

He appeared to be slightly put off by her immediate denial. "Fine. I'm the love of your afterlife then, if you insist on being so technical about it."

She could not refute his words this time, not without lying at least, but that did not stop her from trying to dropkick him in the face all the same. Somehow, they ended up wrestling on the bed (while still completely naked) until he had her pinned under him once more. By then, her desperation level was starting to reach that of a panicked cat about to be dragged off for a dreaded bath.

"Shithead! Baldy! Asshole!" she blustered, trying to punch him in the head only to have her arms restrained. Sometimes, she really hated that she was so small in size and therefore easily subdued. "If you don't let me go right now, I swear to god-"

Shinji leaned in and shut her up with the only thing that had proved effective so far – his mouth. When he finally pulled away minutes later, all of her protests had stopped abruptly, and she looked slightly dazed – though she was recovering quickly.

"You really wanna leave?" he asked huskily then.

Her ochre eyes dilated slightly at the low, delicious timbre of his voice, but since she was also bullheadedly stubborn by nature, she quickly nodded.

Shinji grinned slowly. This was going to be fun.

"Then, say please."

::owari::

Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask:

Alright, first of all, please be aware that is a PWP, written in the heat of the moment for reasons unknown to anyone but my stupid, ADHD muse. This is a standalone one-shot, which means that there probably will be no sequel (unless said stupid, ADHD muse strikes again).

Also, I'm not exactly in the Bleach fandom (I only have one tiny little big toe immersed in these terribly turbulent waters where the most violent of shipping wars takes place every time Kubo-sensei puts up a new chapter – Bleach fandom, you very scary, you – as opposed to the Naruto fandom, which I'm apparently neck deep in and has probably also sold my soul and firstborn to).

Erm, long story short, I haven't been following Bleach seriously since 2007, I think, so do accept my apologies for the terribly OOC characters. Shiyori just turned out to be one of those pairings that I didn't even know I shipped until it suddenly slapped me hard in the face two days ago, when I was admiring Kurosaki Karin's newly developed cleavage (this is totally not what it sounds like; I'm a devout HitsuKarin shipper and was just irrationally excited for Toshirou's sake, I swear!) in the latest Bleach installment – chapter 545.

I hope this clears things up for everyone somewhat – and, please, stop laughing at me.

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Next, the quote in this summary, "No matter how strong minded a woman is, she will show kindness to the man she loves," were words spoken by Nara Shikaku from Naruto. Since the Nara men seem to be the leading experts in living and dealing with unreasonably difficult women, I thought that it was a rather fitting line to use in this instant, as we all know that the lovely and extremely spirited Hiyori-san is something of an acquired taste.

Also, this quote has been specifically taken to reference Chapter 545 of Bleach, where Hiyori reluctantly agrees to help Shinji seal the distortion between Soul Society and the Living World. These two are so adorable together, I swear, that my inner fangirl is frothing at the mouth every time I think of them.

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I'm not sure how old Hiyori and Shinji are physically – I didn't manage to find any official source that can give me an answer, but I managed to read some fandom speculations that Hiyori may be perhaps around 14 or 15 physically whereas Shinji is in his 20s.

Well, for this fic, please assume that Hiyori is an adult – albeit a very small one – or at least of legal age, whichever suits you.

…I may probably get some flak for this, but I personally don't see any problem with this pairing even if the physical age difference is as speculated by the fandom. These two individuals are basically just old souls with young-looking bodies – they have lived for centuries and have accrued more wisdom and experience than any human being possibly can. With that in consideration, I think they can pretty much do whatever they want, really.

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I can't really remember right now if Hiyori's desire to be a virgin bride is just a fanon thing or a canon fact, but either way, let's just assume that in this fic, her near death experience at Gin's hands during the Fake Karakura Town arc has changed her thinking regarding a lot of things.

...You have to admit that it's pretty hard to write smut if the female lead insists on remaining a virgin, after all.

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Last but not least, thanks for reading!

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Your reviews fuel my passion for writing. So please leave a comment if you like this fic!

-paws