![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chlorhexidineZexion turned from his book, looking down at Ulquiorra as he felt her shift and rest against him. 'Her' for the moment. For the better half of the last month Ulquiorra had been training for a mission. Zexion didn't know too many of the details, as it was one of Aizen's projects, and Ulquiorra hadn't been particularly forthcoming, but in short, Aizen required one of his stronger Arrancar to insinuate their way into a potentially hazardous location to obtain something. Ulquiorra, it had been determined, was the best option, not just because he was fourth ranked, but because under the influence of oiroke no jutsu, he made for a tiny and disarmingly adorable girl. In some very frilly dresses, at that.
It had been hard on Ulquiorra, however. He had plenty of reserves to maintain the jutsu, although doing so at exactly the right level so as not to effect his clothing had been more difficult, and maintaining it while he slept had taken even longer. It had been the physical differences that had been hard; Ulquiorra as a girl was smaller, lighter, and faster, but physically weaker, and had to relearn all her physical combat techniques to account for the weaker upper body strength, and the smaller stature and associated shortened reach.
Add that to fighting while her chakra reserves were being slowly depleted, and being unable to afford to lose concentration to maintain the jutsu, and Ulquiorra was growing physically drained. There had been other frustrations, too, when certain other Arrancar had spectacularly failed to remember that she was still Ulquiorra inside, and had both mocked her, and failed to take her seriously.
Zexion had found a bright side for them both, and after a little research and some experimentation had earned himself some claw marks raked into his back. He adjusted his arm around her now, holding his book in his automail hand, and close to his lap. “Tired?” He asked, gently. She'd spent most of her day sparring Luppi, who was no match when Ulquiorra was released, but became a formidable eight armed opponent when he was, and Ulquiorra had been fighting unreleased.
There was a quiet murmur and a faint nod as reply, and Ulquiorra shifted again to settle herself into the crook of Zexion's arm, and continue to read. Zexion smiled, faintly, his fingers tracing the lacy edge of Ulquiorra's sock, which ended just inside the hem of her skirt. It had been strange, the first time he'd seen her. She was undoubtedly Ulquiorra; the expression, and the eyes were the same, but where Ulquiorra favoured trousers, shirts, and waistcoats, not unlike Zexion's own tastes, under the influence of the jutsu his female equivalent was placed in dresses that would not have been out of place on a doll. She wore thigh high, frilly topped socks, and skirts that varied from above the knee to rather short, which were inevitably filled out to shape with a number of underskirts and petticoats, or dresses which were about the same length. Bows and ribbons were a common theme, and most of it was coloured black, green, or white.
She looked positively adorable, which was rather the point.
“Ienzo-san,” Ulquiorra's quiet, feminine voice broke into his thoughts, and Zexion looked up from his book once more. She even sounded adorable, which gave him a bad little thrill he'd be more ashamed of if she wasn't still very definitely Ulquiorra.
He looked at her, and saw she was looking at him while avoiding eye contact; a sure sign that a blush had crept onto her cheeks. That was another difference; like this, Ulquiorra responded more. Ordinarily, he wasn't prone to a blush, but with the jutsu came complications, and one of them had been that her hormones and certain reactions were entirely different to usual. She blushed easily. “Do you not want me to?” He asked, softly, moving his fingers, the source of her blush, along the hem of her underwear, having drifted slowly up the relatively short distance between that and the top of the sock.
He felt her squirm faintly before she offered, as response, “We're in the library, Ienzo-san,” and yet it wasn't in the tones of refusal.
“It's late,” he answered, quietly, “almost everyone has gone to bed already. We won't be disturbed.”
There was a tiny little gasp from her as he slipped a fingertip just inside her underwear; silky, and frilly too, he felt, and in all likelihood green. He moved no further, waiting for an answer, but it came in the form of a subtle shift of her leg, and her pressing faintly closer against him.
Zexion smirked to himself and put his book down on his lap for a moment to lean in, tilting her head up with two metal fingers, chilly, he knew, as he pressed in for a kiss, and pressed his fingers in further to stroke through course hair and down over soft flesh, pressing in just a little to familiarise himself with the contours.
A few minutes of careful exploration and tender stroking ended when Ulquiorra gave a small, familiar murmur, flexing against him. Zexion smirked, stroking a few more times before withdrawing his hand from under Ulquiorra's skirts and licking his fingers.
Ulquiorra's cheeks were tinged dark, but it was a flush, rather than a blush, and Zexion's eyes widened with pleasant surprise as she sat up straighter and tugged on his cravat to pull him down for another kiss, her tongue invading sweetly. This was still Ulquiorra, he remembered, and while she may look like a too young, submissive little thing, she was still a twenty one year old Hollow infused soldier who had no qualms about being assertive.
He felt her hand stray to his own clothing, running down to investigate if there had been any mutual reaction. Zexion closed his eyes and leaned back a little, giving her more room to change position as she knelt up on the sofa they shared. “Do you desire reciprocation?”
A memory burst into Zexion's mind, of Ulquiorra, flush cheeked and on her knees, in a pretty black dress, carefully sucking him to orgasm, with her green eyes fixed on his. Her black lips around him, and the sweet play of her tongue against him had been the single most indecent, and delicious thing he'd ever witnessed, and had been etched in his memory for savouring. The memory alone made his throat go dry for a moment, and he closed his eyes to focus on it for a little longer before he answered, “You don't have to.”
Ulquiorra nodded, just the once, and deft, slender fingers made short work of his belt and trousers, pulling him free in a delicate movement. She stepped off the sofa to sink to her knees in front of him, locking bright green eyes with his before carefully pressing her tongue to his cock. It was warm, and slick, and Zexion's breath hitched slightly as he watched, his attention rapt and book forgotten. He reached down to stroke his fingers through her hair as she sucked him, lips drawing over him in a gentle, steady pulse.
“Ah,” Zexion gasped faintly, and said, “that's enough,” brushing his fingers across her cheek. Ulquiorra stopped, slowly, letting her tongue linger on him a fraction longer as she pulled away. Zexion leaned forward as she stood, putting his hands to her tiny waist, and drawing her nearer. “Take your underwear off,” he said, quietly.
Ulquiorra's eyes went wide for a moment, and her cheeks darkened once more, but after that moment's hesitation she complied, hands slipping under her skirts. Zexion couldn't help the faint smirk as he saw he'd been right; green satin, with white frilled trim dropped below the hem of Ulquiorra's skirt, and down to her feet. She stepped out of them, and picked them up in one swift movement before letting Zexion tug her forwards onto his lap. She knelt over him, to the sound of cotton and satin brushing against each other, and asked, “You're sure of this, Ienzo-san?”
He smirked in response. “No one will know,” he reassured her, guiding her down slowly, allowing her to guide him in. It was his turn to groan as she settled onto him, taking him inside with ease. He'd slept with Ulquiorra plenty of times, even before training for this mission had begun, but he liked it this way just a fraction more. Not because Ulquiorra made for a cute girl, though he did, but because it gave them advantages; there was less fussy preparation with lubricants, if he brought Ulquiorra to orgasm once or twice first then she felt delightful once they came to do this. Ulquiorra, for a bonus, was also more reactive. Penetrating her made her sigh, or groan, as if it was a relief, and she did so now, shifting on him until she was comfortable and sending shocks of desire through him at the movement.
Ulquiorra gripped his waistcoat, unbreakably firm, and leaned forward to take a more pressing kiss. When she moved, it was a gentle ride, bringing herself up and down on him in such a way to make his fingers tighten on her hips, but he allowed Ulquiorra to take charge. She was drawing things out, he knew, and he smirked at the realisation before having it wiped from his face again with another penetrating kiss.
He let his hand drift under her skirt again, and found where they joined together, slick with the movement, and natural lubrication, and found that useful spot where the nerves lay just below the skin to stroke and circle with his finger while Ulquiorra continued to ride him.
Ulquiorra came first, with a small noise that Zexion knew was restrained due to their location, and her temple pressed against his cheek as internal muscles flexed and gripped him. Her movement faltered slightly, and then she recovered, though Zexion could still feel her involuntary twitches and spasms inside, and then he came inside her with a groan.
She rode him for a few more rises and falls, before settling with him still deep inside, moving to take a kiss before she stopped, sharply.
“Aizen-sama,” she said, turning her attention towards the door.
Zexion followed her gaze, and was relieved to see that Aizen was not standing there. Though Ulquiorra was right, Aizen was on his way. “Stay where you are,” he said, softly, and answering Ulquiorra's sharply questioning gaze with, “just trust me.”
Ulquiorra turned her attention back to the door, and Zexion redirected her, putting his fingers to her cheek to make her look at him again. “Kiss me,” he said, “and it'll look like that's all this is.” The skirts covered everything else, and Ulquiorra's underwear was tucked down the seat next to Zexion. He surreptitiously pushed it further out of view as Ulquiorra pressed forward to kiss him, sweetly.
He heard the door open, and then the distinct noise of someone clearing their throat.
“Don't mind me,” Aizen said, and Zexion couldn't tell if there as amusement, or mild horror, or a mixture of the two in his voice.
Ulquiorra broke away, her cheeks flushing dark as she locked eyes with Aizen and then looked away again. Zexion became sharply aware of the fact that he was still inside Ulquiorra, underneath those skirts, and felt a horrifying little thrill run through him at the thought.
Aizen made his way into his office, and Ulquiorra lifted off Zexion the moment they heard the door click. It was the hurried work of a moment for Zexion to make himself presentable once more, and Ulquiorra perched herself back on the sofa, cheeks still flushed.
Aizen emerged again after a minute or so, and only briefly made eye contact with the two of them, or tried to with Ulquiorra, but Ulquiorra evaded his gaze shyly. Zexion caught a faint smirk, which soon became a frown, and was then turned into a polite, “Good night,” as he left the library with the book he'd come for in hand.
“That,” Ulquiorra said, “is why we should not do such things in the library.”
“Too late now,” Zexion pointed out, fairly, and just a little amused. Ulquiorra looked away, and towards the floor, prompting Zexion to offer reassurance. “He didn't notice anything was off, we're fine.” Not that Aizen could do anything about it if he had noticed, but frankly, Ulquiorra's respect for the man made Zexion unwilling to leave Ulquiorra in a position where he might feel embarrassed in front of him.
Ulquiorra nodded, briefly, before she said, “Perhaps we should retire for the night?”
Zexion smiled slightly, “Are you staying with me?”
“If you do not object?”
“Of course not.” He stood, and took care to retrieve Ulquiorra's underwear from the sofa before leaving with her.
It had been hard on Ulquiorra, however. He had plenty of reserves to maintain the jutsu, although doing so at exactly the right level so as not to effect his clothing had been more difficult, and maintaining it while he slept had taken even longer. It had been the physical differences that had been hard; Ulquiorra as a girl was smaller, lighter, and faster, but physically weaker, and had to relearn all her physical combat techniques to account for the weaker upper body strength, and the smaller stature and associated shortened reach.
Add that to fighting while her chakra reserves were being slowly depleted, and being unable to afford to lose concentration to maintain the jutsu, and Ulquiorra was growing physically drained. There had been other frustrations, too, when certain other Arrancar had spectacularly failed to remember that she was still Ulquiorra inside, and had both mocked her, and failed to take her seriously.
Zexion had found a bright side for them both, and after a little research and some experimentation had earned himself some claw marks raked into his back. He adjusted his arm around her now, holding his book in his automail hand, and close to his lap. “Tired?” He asked, gently. She'd spent most of her day sparring Luppi, who was no match when Ulquiorra was released, but became a formidable eight armed opponent when he was, and Ulquiorra had been fighting unreleased.
There was a quiet murmur and a faint nod as reply, and Ulquiorra shifted again to settle herself into the crook of Zexion's arm, and continue to read. Zexion smiled, faintly, his fingers tracing the lacy edge of Ulquiorra's sock, which ended just inside the hem of her skirt. It had been strange, the first time he'd seen her. She was undoubtedly Ulquiorra; the expression, and the eyes were the same, but where Ulquiorra favoured trousers, shirts, and waistcoats, not unlike Zexion's own tastes, under the influence of the jutsu his female equivalent was placed in dresses that would not have been out of place on a doll. She wore thigh high, frilly topped socks, and skirts that varied from above the knee to rather short, which were inevitably filled out to shape with a number of underskirts and petticoats, or dresses which were about the same length. Bows and ribbons were a common theme, and most of it was coloured black, green, or white.
She looked positively adorable, which was rather the point.
“Ienzo-san,” Ulquiorra's quiet, feminine voice broke into his thoughts, and Zexion looked up from his book once more. She even sounded adorable, which gave him a bad little thrill he'd be more ashamed of if she wasn't still very definitely Ulquiorra.
He looked at her, and saw she was looking at him while avoiding eye contact; a sure sign that a blush had crept onto her cheeks. That was another difference; like this, Ulquiorra responded more. Ordinarily, he wasn't prone to a blush, but with the jutsu came complications, and one of them had been that her hormones and certain reactions were entirely different to usual. She blushed easily. “Do you not want me to?” He asked, softly, moving his fingers, the source of her blush, along the hem of her underwear, having drifted slowly up the relatively short distance between that and the top of the sock.
He felt her squirm faintly before she offered, as response, “We're in the library, Ienzo-san,” and yet it wasn't in the tones of refusal.
“It's late,” he answered, quietly, “almost everyone has gone to bed already. We won't be disturbed.”
There was a tiny little gasp from her as he slipped a fingertip just inside her underwear; silky, and frilly too, he felt, and in all likelihood green. He moved no further, waiting for an answer, but it came in the form of a subtle shift of her leg, and her pressing faintly closer against him.
Zexion smirked to himself and put his book down on his lap for a moment to lean in, tilting her head up with two metal fingers, chilly, he knew, as he pressed in for a kiss, and pressed his fingers in further to stroke through course hair and down over soft flesh, pressing in just a little to familiarise himself with the contours.
A few minutes of careful exploration and tender stroking ended when Ulquiorra gave a small, familiar murmur, flexing against him. Zexion smirked, stroking a few more times before withdrawing his hand from under Ulquiorra's skirts and licking his fingers.
Ulquiorra's cheeks were tinged dark, but it was a flush, rather than a blush, and Zexion's eyes widened with pleasant surprise as she sat up straighter and tugged on his cravat to pull him down for another kiss, her tongue invading sweetly. This was still Ulquiorra, he remembered, and while she may look like a too young, submissive little thing, she was still a twenty one year old Hollow infused soldier who had no qualms about being assertive.
He felt her hand stray to his own clothing, running down to investigate if there had been any mutual reaction. Zexion closed his eyes and leaned back a little, giving her more room to change position as she knelt up on the sofa they shared. “Do you desire reciprocation?”
A memory burst into Zexion's mind, of Ulquiorra, flush cheeked and on her knees, in a pretty black dress, carefully sucking him to orgasm, with her green eyes fixed on his. Her black lips around him, and the sweet play of her tongue against him had been the single most indecent, and delicious thing he'd ever witnessed, and had been etched in his memory for savouring. The memory alone made his throat go dry for a moment, and he closed his eyes to focus on it for a little longer before he answered, “You don't have to.”
Ulquiorra nodded, just the once, and deft, slender fingers made short work of his belt and trousers, pulling him free in a delicate movement. She stepped off the sofa to sink to her knees in front of him, locking bright green eyes with his before carefully pressing her tongue to his cock. It was warm, and slick, and Zexion's breath hitched slightly as he watched, his attention rapt and book forgotten. He reached down to stroke his fingers through her hair as she sucked him, lips drawing over him in a gentle, steady pulse.
“Ah,” Zexion gasped faintly, and said, “that's enough,” brushing his fingers across her cheek. Ulquiorra stopped, slowly, letting her tongue linger on him a fraction longer as she pulled away. Zexion leaned forward as she stood, putting his hands to her tiny waist, and drawing her nearer. “Take your underwear off,” he said, quietly.
Ulquiorra's eyes went wide for a moment, and her cheeks darkened once more, but after that moment's hesitation she complied, hands slipping under her skirts. Zexion couldn't help the faint smirk as he saw he'd been right; green satin, with white frilled trim dropped below the hem of Ulquiorra's skirt, and down to her feet. She stepped out of them, and picked them up in one swift movement before letting Zexion tug her forwards onto his lap. She knelt over him, to the sound of cotton and satin brushing against each other, and asked, “You're sure of this, Ienzo-san?”
He smirked in response. “No one will know,” he reassured her, guiding her down slowly, allowing her to guide him in. It was his turn to groan as she settled onto him, taking him inside with ease. He'd slept with Ulquiorra plenty of times, even before training for this mission had begun, but he liked it this way just a fraction more. Not because Ulquiorra made for a cute girl, though he did, but because it gave them advantages; there was less fussy preparation with lubricants, if he brought Ulquiorra to orgasm once or twice first then she felt delightful once they came to do this. Ulquiorra, for a bonus, was also more reactive. Penetrating her made her sigh, or groan, as if it was a relief, and she did so now, shifting on him until she was comfortable and sending shocks of desire through him at the movement.
Ulquiorra gripped his waistcoat, unbreakably firm, and leaned forward to take a more pressing kiss. When she moved, it was a gentle ride, bringing herself up and down on him in such a way to make his fingers tighten on her hips, but he allowed Ulquiorra to take charge. She was drawing things out, he knew, and he smirked at the realisation before having it wiped from his face again with another penetrating kiss.
He let his hand drift under her skirt again, and found where they joined together, slick with the movement, and natural lubrication, and found that useful spot where the nerves lay just below the skin to stroke and circle with his finger while Ulquiorra continued to ride him.
Ulquiorra came first, with a small noise that Zexion knew was restrained due to their location, and her temple pressed against his cheek as internal muscles flexed and gripped him. Her movement faltered slightly, and then she recovered, though Zexion could still feel her involuntary twitches and spasms inside, and then he came inside her with a groan.
She rode him for a few more rises and falls, before settling with him still deep inside, moving to take a kiss before she stopped, sharply.
“Aizen-sama,” she said, turning her attention towards the door.
Zexion followed her gaze, and was relieved to see that Aizen was not standing there. Though Ulquiorra was right, Aizen was on his way. “Stay where you are,” he said, softly, and answering Ulquiorra's sharply questioning gaze with, “just trust me.”
Ulquiorra turned her attention back to the door, and Zexion redirected her, putting his fingers to her cheek to make her look at him again. “Kiss me,” he said, “and it'll look like that's all this is.” The skirts covered everything else, and Ulquiorra's underwear was tucked down the seat next to Zexion. He surreptitiously pushed it further out of view as Ulquiorra pressed forward to kiss him, sweetly.
He heard the door open, and then the distinct noise of someone clearing their throat.
“Don't mind me,” Aizen said, and Zexion couldn't tell if there as amusement, or mild horror, or a mixture of the two in his voice.
Ulquiorra broke away, her cheeks flushing dark as she locked eyes with Aizen and then looked away again. Zexion became sharply aware of the fact that he was still inside Ulquiorra, underneath those skirts, and felt a horrifying little thrill run through him at the thought.
Aizen made his way into his office, and Ulquiorra lifted off Zexion the moment they heard the door click. It was the hurried work of a moment for Zexion to make himself presentable once more, and Ulquiorra perched herself back on the sofa, cheeks still flushed.
Aizen emerged again after a minute or so, and only briefly made eye contact with the two of them, or tried to with Ulquiorra, but Ulquiorra evaded his gaze shyly. Zexion caught a faint smirk, which soon became a frown, and was then turned into a polite, “Good night,” as he left the library with the book he'd come for in hand.
“That,” Ulquiorra said, “is why we should not do such things in the library.”
“Too late now,” Zexion pointed out, fairly, and just a little amused. Ulquiorra looked away, and towards the floor, prompting Zexion to offer reassurance. “He didn't notice anything was off, we're fine.” Not that Aizen could do anything about it if he had noticed, but frankly, Ulquiorra's respect for the man made Zexion unwilling to leave Ulquiorra in a position where he might feel embarrassed in front of him.
Ulquiorra nodded, briefly, before she said, “Perhaps we should retire for the night?”
Zexion smiled slightly, “Are you staying with me?”
“If you do not object?”
“Of course not.” He stood, and took care to retrieve Ulquiorra's underwear from the sofa before leaving with her.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-15 01:23 am (UTC)/AMUSED ANYWAY, uses horribly (in)appropriate icon
... I hope he doesn't have cameras in the library AHAHAHAHAHAH
/makes half-cute fic creepy
no subject
Date: 2012-10-15 01:25 am (UTC)whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
...
WHYYYYYY
oh god