For the Ilforte x Menoli FC on Bleach Asylum, and for those who may want to start shipping this cracky couple.
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"You're gonna get killed."
Ilforte Grantz rolled his eyes and kept striding down the long, bleached hallways. His steps echoed against the hollow walls and the light from something artificial above cast a blinding glow against the aqua coloured floor tiling. He didn't dare stop in his pace as he knew he was already late to meet his fellow fraccions and Grimmjow. So he only flicked some locks of shining blonde hair from his face as a response to the short female that was trailing behind him, struggling to keep up with his purposely fast walk.
"Are you even listening to me!?" Menoli asked harshly, grabbing Ilforte's arm and tugging him to a stop. He sighed and looked down at her, bored suddenly. He didn't feel like playing with the lower arrancar today.
"Yes I heard you, woman" he huffed, "now please let go of me."
"Moron! You don't know what you're doing!" she cursed and, with the blonde immobile in front of her, slapped his arm roughly.
"Ow." He frowned and rubbed the sore spot.
"That Grimmjow…he's leading you to your death! You know that!"
"Dammit, woman, shut up!" Ilforte's hand rushed out and clamped around the arrancar's mouth. She stopped for a second before trying to speak, muffled by the cover. Her eyes were narrowed and she tried to pry his hand of her mouth, shaking her head roughly. "Don't say shit like that out loud!"
The fact that this rogue mission could get him and the others into some deep trouble was enough to provoke the blonde. This was risky but just like Grimmjow he was in it for the thrill and jumped at the chance to start some sort of trouble with the shinigamis. They were all set out for the real world to dispose of anyone who could be a threat to Aizen's plan and their invasion, which was Grimmjow's ideology. One that his fraccions understood and agreed with completely. But he was late and getting later by the minute. Grimmjow was gonna get pissed.
Not to mention that brat was tagging along too, uninvited.
"This is wrong, Ilforte" Menoli began again when he removed his hand, her voice quiet now. Her green eyes sought some sort of break in Ilforte's cold black ones but he held her gaze. "You know…"
"What I know is that Grimmjow will have my ass if I'm not at the meeting point," the blonde interrupted, a hand out to stop Menoli from repeating herself.
He wondered why he had even told her about it all. Damn her, and her seductive ways. She had some sort of enhanced ability to tell the mood of a person no matter what they did. It had only taken a little bit of foreplay for him to reveal the necessary information on the meant-to-be secretive operation. When she got all the details of it, she suddenly swept into a full bitchy mood, scolding him and telling him what she was telling him just now. That it was dangerous, stupid, reckless, etc. And he knew he was dead if Grimmjow found out that Menoli knew. But she was smart enough, at least, to know to keep her mouth shut around the Sexta Espada. Especially about their little relationship.
Menoli folded her arms, feeling deflated, and cocked her head to the side. She pouted slightly and her eyes turned from angry to an almost worried stance. The skin between her eyebrows and under her eyes folded as she looked away and curled her fingers into fists. Ilforte sighed. He knew this look all too well. It was Menoli's patented I-can't-believe-your-doing-this-but-see-if-I-care-if-you-wind-up-dead-which-will-happen-but-whatever-cause-I-warned-you look.
He rolled his eyes and gripped her shoulder, pulling the shorter arrancar towards a wall before shoving her against the pristine white; Menoli's back hitting the hard material painfully.
"Hey!" she cried. Ilforte was already on her in the next second, one hand on one side of Menoli's head and the other gripping her corresponding wrist. He had to lean down but that was ok. The fury and annoyance in her eyes was delicious to him. He liked this look better on her. Ilforte leaned down even more until his face was mere inches away from Menoli's. But interestingly enough, she hadn't budged or reacted with that cute blush that tended to appear through the tanned skin of her nearly flat nose bridge. However, she wasn't fighting back either.
Ilforte stuck out his tongue and flicked it against her lips sensually, never breaking eye contact. "It's sweet to know that you're worried about me."
Menoli said nothing. She knew that the minute she opened her mouth to even respond quickly, Ilforte would descend on her like lightening, his tongue, which was now replaced by nipping teeth, inside, tasting her. So she kept her lips tightened together and moved her face away from his teasing. This didn't bother Ilforte in the least as he was used to her stubborn nature. Ignoring her mouth, he went for the revealing neck in front of him, glistened with nearly dry sweat and a much lighter shade then her face. Ilforte was glad to see that she had abandoned that useless, thick collar. It always got in the way.
He bit down harshly, earning a hiss-like moan from the now embarrassed Menoli. There was a condescending, agitating grin on the blonde's face as he licked the bleeding wound with interest. His journey continued up, down and around her neck, Menoli breathing hard and pressed even further against the wall. Her free hand tried to push his body away but she was failing, knowing full well that her weak arms were like string noodles whenever he played like this.
Their bodies were flushed and racing and Menoli folded herself around Ilforte, a small bronze hand in his golden hair, pulling tightly and pleading. The blonde was happy to oblige, snaking a hand around her waist to pull her away from the cold wall and onto his….not exactly warm, but not cold either body. He let her other arm go and it shot out, wounding around his shoulders and pulling herself even closer. The dead blood in their veins pulsed, as the high of the touching and moans became overwhelming.
"I-Ilforte" Menoli breathed her voice shaky. The blonde gripped her ass and slid the other hand under her loose shirt. He'd always nagged her about wearing a shirt similar to her sister's. It would be less troublesome to take off. His hand skilfully made it to one rounded breast and he squeezed roughly, emitting hitched breath and heavy moan, filled with passion and pain. His finger slicked against a perked nipple and he bit down on a now exposed shoulder. Menoli's skin turned from pale to pink in an instant and her own, smaller hand made it to his opened collar, moving through the fabric and pulling down on the jacket.
In the next second, Ilforte was off of her, hands to his side and out of her shirt, and his cheeks tinted with the lightest red. He raked his fingers through his blonde hair and gave Menoli a cruel smile. In response, the female arrancar had tripped a bit, losing Ilforte's help in balance, and her whole uniform was ruffled, her cheeks very red and her breathing jagged.
"Can't play now, though, sweetheart," Ilforte chuckled, fixing his jacket. "Maybe when I get back."
He turned to leave but her voice caught him. "Ilforte!"
Their eyes met. His a bored but happy black and hers an angry and agitated green. Her face was scrunched up again but this time she looked like she was about to either cry or go into some sort of hysteria. She hadn't even made a move to fix her shirt, which was almost revealing her breasts, and her hands were balled up to her side. Ilforte blinked at this familiar sight and narrowed his eyebrows.
"You're so annoying," he sighed. But he stepped forward, placed a hand on the back of her head and leaned down to brush his mouth on her forehead. Menoli relaxed in her stance but she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together. She raised her hands a brushed her nose bridge as if to erase the blush. Taking the chance again, the blonde leaned down and ghosted his lips over hers. Just as he was about to connect, Menoli turned her head abruptly to the side and his lips met with her hot cheek. He pulled back and glared down at her.
She turned to face him again and her green eyes were shrouded with an emotion he'd never seen before on her face. Pleading. "I won't kiss a dead man."
Ilforte pursed his lips together. Something inside his chest made him want to do something, anything, to change those eyes of hers. They were boring into his skull, changing his thoughts and confusing him. He didn't like this look at all. But he, knowing nothing and never having ever treated Menoli with soft affection, was at a lose for his next move. Exasperated, convulsed and something else, Ilforte let go of his lover's head and turned fiercely, walking down the clean white hallway. His eyes were set and determined, but lost and baffled.
"I'll come back!" he shouted, now not caring if anyone became suspicious. He just wanted her, his woman, to hear it. "I promise!"
Menoli should have known that Ilforte was no good in keeping promises.
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I actually may wanna do some more for this couple!