#Let There Be Blood: Short Story | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

warball-boyz · 3 months ago

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Imma try some fiction now.

Help... (no idea how many words this is)

Chapter 1: Pre-Game

The crowd was deafening in the way only several tens of thousands of people could be, or possibly several dozen very loud cats right next to your ear as you try to enjoy a nice bit of chicken.

They had already been seated for nearly an hour, and the cheerleaders were getting tired. They could only juggle swords and breathe fire and perform complicated acrobatics for so long, and the crowd was already on their second or third round of watery beer, and wanted to see more violence than the fully-armoured cheerleaders could muster (the full armour came about from a strike regarding an attempt to put them in too-revealing uniforms while still performing the dangerous stunts aforementioned, and the cheerleaders, like most people, liked keeping their body parts attached to the rest of them).

It was all deliberate though, the Managers had planned out the opening ceremonies of every game precisely. Keep the crowd entertained and pull in a few more miscellaneous coins from additional merchandise purchases, and only start the game when the fans were in a near-riotous stage, which made the game all the more entertaining and kept them running to the snack stalls in every pause of the game to sate their now-voracious appetites (being angry in a hot stadium did that to one's caloric intake). It also added to the spectacle of when the teams were introduced. As they would be now.

Trumpets blared and drums pounded in the theme music of the visiting team, the Kasbak Freehold Thunder-Hammers as they ran onto the pitch while the cheerleaders made their ways to the side-lines. The Thunder-Hammer fans —Thammers—roared as if on cue (which they were: a small goblin in the front row in team colours lifted a large sign that said "cheere ye, cheere ye") as their blue-and-white bedecked favourites made two rows and faced the mass of blue that were their fans, and began their as-carefully-as-three-dozen-overmuscled-and-not-quite-enough-brained-men-could-choreograph chant. It featured mostly yelling at the tops of their lungs, pounding their chests, and stomping. The fans repeated the chant barely a millisecond behind the team, creating a rather interesting spectacle, similar to how a parent and child practise saying the same words at the same time but the child is a little behind the beat.

The KFTH slammed their fists into the ground, a very suitable finish for a team comprising mostly of orcs, two trolls, and a half-dozen dwarfs, all of whom see punching the ground as very intimidating. Especially when you leave dints in the turf. The Thammer crowd roared its support, and the team trundled their way to the sidelines, where they partook in copious amounts of swearing at each other and fans while drinking enough fluid to drown a very large fish. That was as much part of the spectacle as the chant was, symbolizing to fans their eagerness to play and to win.

The crowd began to murmur in a terrifying cohesion as the trumpets held a quiet but long note like a hose that wasn't turned fully off. It slowly grew with the drums building up an off-kilter rhythm, culminating in three dis-chords that the crowd shouted along to. These three chords of questionable musical composition (any music teacher could talk at length about how the chromatic progression rife with minor sevenths, minor seconds, and tritones made it an instant failure of any music theory exam) repeated with the crowd's participation as the Markoth City Partizans took to the pitch. The Partizans didn't have a chant that the team performed, but the thirty thousand fans had more than made up for it by forcing a melody and lyrics onto the "Three Chords of Doom" that was their official theme music. It went roughly along the lines of:

"Partizans will not die!

We will kill you!

Death to the opponent!

Kill! Kill! Kill!"

(It cannot be said that the fans had more poetic ability than the players, who at least had the excuse of multiple head injuries)

Instead of a war chant, the Partizans assembled in a square formation at centre field and stomp rhythmically, raising their fists alternatively with each stomp.

Once the fans' homemade chant died into more rabid cheering, the team sent to their side of the pitch, and the officials appeared. They had no fanfare, as no one much liked the officials except the Officials Guild, who ensured they at least got paid regularly. Once the officials dispersed to their places on the pitch, the head referee, in this case a slightly pudgy yet athletic man with the name "Onager" stitched onto his linen doublet, stood officially at centre, with a hands-behind-back-and-legs-slightly-apart stance that all head referees were taught in the Official Official's Handbook provided by the Officials' Guild.

Once Onager was in this stance, the captains of both teams came to meet him. The KFTH had Berhard Pavyn, the Partizans had Loeghr Falhalf. Fanfare continued as Onager held up the Official gold coin to determine who would receive the ball first. He carefully made a show of showing it off to the crowd and captains, despite the fact it was merely the size of a cat's paw print, and then hefted it into the air with lethal amounts of backspin.

"Crown!" Falhalf shouted. As the home-team captain he had the right to choose which side he wanted the coin to show upon landing. The coin didn't listen half the time.

"Shield," Onager said with pomp. "The Thunder-Hammers will choose to receive or kick."

No one in the crowd heard a blessed thing, but helpful eagle-eyed fans in the front rows held up homemade signs with crude crowns and shields on them to indicate to the seething masses above them what was occurring.

Pavyn considered his options. "I think we shall kick," he said after a sufficiently pregnant pause. Signs were lifted, crowd cheered and shouted.

"The Thunder-Hammers shall kick the ball!" Onager bellowed officially. Both captains then made their way to their teams and relayed the pertinent information.

On the KFTH side, the coach, a particularly rotund orc named Khaligorn was ferociously scribbling at his large slate with a chalk.

"We gotsta move fast! The Partz are good at runnin, and we have to get to where they goin faster then they do! And when we gets there, we hits them harder then they hits us!" He began pouting to the surrounding players. "Loustin and Harrok will be at the edges, Pavyn near left, Joggban far right. Golshak, Urrig, and Pagh take centre! I want the trolls taking up the rear in case their runners and blitzers break through! The rest of you know your places! Gayns! Kick and run a boar's leg after!"

Bealdric Gayns nodded with careful emotionlessness, then began muttering as soon as he ran into the pitch and out of Khaligorn's hearing.

"Boar's leg! He's lost it! I'm basically playing a blitzer! Yes I can run and block halfway decent, but be a spare blitzer?! Madness I say! This has to be a false play to make me look intimidating and lead their runner into Loustin and Joggban. It's the only way!"

By the end of this short monologue Bealdric was at his position, roughly twenty years behind centre, where Onager officially handed him the official game ball, and stood with his official stance a few feet away, whistle in his lips ready to blow the official start of the game.

Bealdric lined up his kick, gauging the weight of the ball and tried to see where the Partizans had placed their receiver/runner. He also tried to calculate where the boar's leg run would take him, and specifically which of the Partizans' ogre blockers he would be concussed by in the next half-minute.

He steadied himself.

He released the ball gently while taking a soft jump forward, his right leg starting it's pendulous swing.

He connected with the ball.

Onager blew his whistle with all the officially he could push from his lungs.

The ball arced at a perfect 62 degree angle over centre.

The game had begun

#hey I tried something!#let me know how this reads and I'll try to make the necessary adjustments for chapter 2 #hopefully it sounds cohesive and entertaining and like I'm going somewhere #don't be afraid to leave reviews and suggestions!#warball #fanfic?#fantasy short story #fantasy fiction #fan fiction #fanfic #low fantasy #warhammer fantasy #fantasy football #fantasy #discworld fanfic #discworld #fantasy warhammer #bloodbowl #blood bowl

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gladumfdoodles · 1 year ago

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I woke up on a battlefield with the name Theo on my lips and a stinging in my back. Covered in blood and sweat and tears, I stood up to see fields of bodies all around me, the cries of the dying surrounding me, begging for help, for relief, for mercy. There was no one left standing except for me.

I slept in a foxhole at the edge of the blood stained section of earth, repeating the only two things I could remember over and over again in my head. That my name was Theo, and that war meant nothing but destruction and pain, and the unfinished business of thousands of good people.

That night was when they came to me, stepping forward through the mist of my dreams. One so far into madness that she could barely get through a sentence without collapsing into laughter or tears, one with a general’s uniform with a hard face but soft eyes, and one with a blank, unseeing stare, tears spilling down their face endlessly. The last one wore my face, my clothing, my hair. The last one was me.

The Lunatic, the General, and Myself.

The Lunatic had been a musician, once, playing songs for all those who would hear, taught by her father to play a variety of instruments. She had a bullet hole through her head, an instant death that would have meant mercy for the crazed soldier. But her business had not been finished, and so she could not rest. She came to me, and through laughter and tears, asked me to take her to her father, so that she could apologize.

The General had never wanted to be a soldier. He had grown up in iniquity, but once he’d reached adulthood, he had started a farm, growing tomatoes and peppers and pumpkins, and he had shared his vegetables with all those around him. He was covered in death wounds, from his neck to his head to his heart, all deaths that would cause long suffering and pain. He came to me, and with a gentle voice and a hopeful spirit, asked me to fix his garden, so that he could see it flourish one last time.

I had been young. Foolish. I had seen people marching off to war to fight for king and country and I had followed them, grabbing my own weapons and supplies to join them. I watched as my friends were murdered next to me, their blood staining my hands as I did my best to bury them during the cease fires. My death wound was along my back, a sword slash that had paralyzed me and sent me to the ground. I came to me, with a face made blank with trauma and sorrow, and asked me to kill the king who had started this war, so that we could finally rest.

I woke up with tears on my cheeks and a knowledge of what I had to do.

I left the battlefield and its smell of blood and decay behind me, covering my ears so as not to hear the begging cries of the soldiers that I had once fought alongside, before I died. Before I came back, with the name Theo on my lips and the knowledge that I was no longer me. The Lunatic had come to me first, and so it was her business I would go about first.

As I walked aimlessly away from the fight that had claimed all of our lives, I asked her about her father. She did not remember most things, her mind claimed by insanity, but she was able to recall memories of playing in the sun, her guitar in her lap as her father guided her on what chords to play. She remembered the sound of his voice, the way his brown hair blew in the wind, the disappointed look on his face when she declared she was going to fight for the king in his war. As she told her stories, her memory strengthened, and her lapses into tears and laughter became less intense, with more space between them.

Every night, I would sit with her in my dreams and we would talk, mostly about her, but sometimes about me. I would try to remember what I had been like before, but most of my memories had been lost with my death, no doubt held by the true me that waited for me to finish our business. But I remembered the kind woman who had sung me a lullaby when I had been scared and alone, even though she felt the same way. I remembered the gentle man who had given me the largest tomato from his garden, stating that I looked like I needed it. I remembered the look on the king’s face when I signed up for the war, the way he’d smiled in a sickening way and the way he had told me I would be the one to end it, that my sword would be the one to stop this plague.

I wondered how he knew.

It took six months of wandering throughout the country for the Lunatic to find out where her father lived. I did not need food, and neither did her, or the General. We came across few other people in our journeys, choosing to stick to the paths that kept away from civilization. My clothes were still stained with blood, and I spoke aloud to the three people who lived in my head, the Lunatic, the General, and Myself. I no doubt looked like a lunatic myself, to any outsider who would have had the misfortune of coming across a war stricken child.

The Lunatic’s father lived in their childhood home, atop the mountains, settled by her great grandfather. It had stood there for over a century now, untouched by war, a small cabin of sanctuary for those desperate for it.

I knocked on the door three times, and was met with a middle aged man with brown hair that blew in the wind, fingers callused from playing the guitar, and when he saw me, wearing the ill-fitting uniform of a soldier, stained in blood and grief, his face was nothing but disappointed.

What do you want me to tell him? I had asked the Lunatic, the night before I had climbed the mountain.

Tell him I’m sorry. The Lunatic replied. He’ll know why.

And so, facing the Lunatic’s father, I told him that his daughter was sorry. His disappointed look turned to grief, tears spilling openly down his face, and he told me that he had already forgiven her years ago.

My name is Lilith. The Lunatic whispered in my ear. Thank you.

And then she was gone.

I helped her father make a gravestone for the family graveyard, set behind the cabin in a fenced off area, and stayed for a few days, though I did not take the food that he offered me. As I slept, I spoke with the General about where his garden was, and what he wanted me to plant and care for.

He told me where it was, and I bid Lilith’s father goodbye. He wanted me to stay, still feeling the loss of his child weighing him down, but I knew that it was his grief to manage, and that I had unfinished business to complete. I had finished Lilith’s journey. It was time to move on.

He thanked me for bringing his daughter’s message to him, then gave me a fresh change of clothes to replace my bloodied ones, along with a backpack to hold them. I placed the clean clothing into the backpack and slung it onto my shoulders, giving him one last goodbye before climbing back down the mountain to my next destination.

The General’s garden had been destroyed from years of neglect. The fence posts were crooked or missing, the wires that ran between them shredded and torn. Weeds were the only thing visible from within, and the dirt was dry and cracked beneath them. I spent the rest of the day after arriving pulling out the weeds in one corner of the space, barely enough for me to lie down in and dream.

The General guided me on how to properly pull out the weeds, so that the roots wouldn’t grow back and choke out the gentle garden plants. He told me where to find gardening tools, and I recovered a rusty shovel and rake from within a half collapsed shed. I tore into the earth, breaking up the cracked soil and churning it into something almost usable. I gathered leaves and fruit peels discarded by the nearby village, and mixed it into my dirt, giving it the organic material it needed to truly thrive.

While the soil was composting, the General told me which plants to buy. Which plants went well together. Where they would be sold. I bought tomatoes and cilantro and peppers and cucumbers, pumpkins and watermelons and squash and peas, and I planted them into the newly freshed earth. I watered them from the well that had been nearly buried in the ground, though I had to repair the rope that dipped down into the water, as it had been frayed beyond use. The bucket was just as rusted as the tools I had been given, but it still worked the same, and the soil celebrated the underground water that I gave it.

As the season continued, the plants began to sprout out of the earth, tiny green stalks searching for carbon dioxide to consume. The General explained to me how they filtered out toxic air and replaced it with fresh air that we breathed in, and I listened to his words as I worked, bathing the soil and speaking out loud in response to his words.

I was closer to a village now, and occasionally the residents would come out to see me, somewhat appalled by my blood and dirt stained clothes and my heavy sorrow, but all the more curious because of it. I found myself talking to physical people for the first time in months, and as the flowers on the plants began to bloom, I was invited to a festival in the village.

I attended, and it was a joyous affair, the celebration of new life and new beginnings, the prologue of the harvest season. People danced in the streets and ate delicious smelling food, though I declined to eat anything. The chatter around me was pleasant, though occasionally I heard dark words about the war and the king, and I saw mournful faces of those who had already lost people to the fighting. Those whose children would never be able to celebrate another festival with their families again.

I had changed out of my bloodstained clothing for the event, but once I returned back to the General’s garden, I changed back into them, and silently mourned the lives of the friends I had lost in the fighting. Perhaps some of them had come from this village, and would never be able to see a festival like this ever again.

The flowering month was an uneventful one, filled only with the buzzing of bees and the whispers of another draft sent forth by the king. The faces of the villagers were fearful as they awaited further news, and the whispers in my head increased during every mention of the king.

The General told me his own stories, of before the war. He told me about his worst gardening years, and his best ones, of the festivals he had celebrated in the past, and the way he had fought off a group of invaders with only a shovel and his anger.

That was how he had been recruited into the army. He had stood out too much in the crowd, and so the king’s drafters had swept him up and placed him in the front lines. He had fought so viciously, so desperately, that it had carried him all the way to a General’s position before he had been struck down by five people at once.

He told me what their faces had looked like, how they had matched his own, terrified and desperate, and he told me that he had never blamed them for his death, even if it was at their hands.

The king’s drafters came to the village just as the first of the tomatoes had started to turn red. I watched from within my garden as they ripped a kid, no older than me, from their mother’s arms, and forced them into the back of a carriage. I watched as the mother begged them to stop, that they had already taken her husband, two of her sons, and one of her daughters, that she couldn’t lose another child, that she couldn’t take care of a baby during harvest season alone. The drafters ignored her pleas and threatened to take her baby away too, that way she would be able to properly serve her country.

I watched this same spectacle happen at nearly every house in the village, anyone eligible to fight dragged from their home and into the carriages, screams spilling from their lips and tears falling from their eyes as they tried to stay. I watched as those carriages pulled away, towards the front lines of the fight, and I cried as I hid in the General’s garden when they passed me, knowing that there was nothing I could do at that moment. I had to finish the General’s business. I only prayed that the children of the villagers would live long enough for me to kill the king that continued this war.

Harvest season continued, and I helped as many villagers as I could while still maintaining the General’s garden. They thanked me for my help, but I could see in their eyes a jealousy that I had managed to stay behind, that they had not caught me. They did not even know who I was.

When I ate the first ripened tomato off of the vine from within the repaired fence of the General’s garden, I could feel his relief. His smile felt just like the taste of the juices bursting in my mouth, and as I swallowed the fruit, he spoke his final words to me.

My name is William. Thank you.

And he was gone.

I finished harvest season in the village, the air just beginning to turn crisp as I gave the villagers everything that had grown in William's--my--garden. I did not tell them where I was going, but they knew anyway. They handed me an apron that had belonged to one of their children, then carefully passed me a bag of mushrooms that they knew I would not eat.

Several of them gave me hugs as well, and I felt my cheeks grow warm with tears as I told them goodbye. I knew I wasn’t going to see any of them again. Not after I finished my business.

I followed the road that the drafter’s carriages had come from, retracing the steps of the horses and wheels as I trekked along, no longer stopping to sleep. I didn’t need to commune with myself. I already knew what I had to do. I passed through dozens of villages on my path, and soon, word began to spread about me.

About a golden haired child with dull blue eyes, wearing blood and dirt stained clothing and a backpack, trudging slowly towards the capital of the country, where the king’s castle sat. Some villagers threw stones at me as I passed. Some offered me rides. I never ran from the stones, and I always accepted the rides.

It was the dead of winter when I arrived in front of the king’s front doors. They were guarded heavily, and I knew that the king had heard of my journey, and that I was headed for him. He knew who I was. He knew what I was capable of. He knew what my business was.

I slept for the first time in weeks in an alleyway, only a short distance from the castle. In my dreams, I spoke with myself, and I learned for the first time who I truly was. What I alone was capable of. I already knew what my business was, but now I knew how to go about it. I knew what I had to do.

I awoke in the morning and changed into my clean pair of clothes, given to me by Lilith’s father, only worn once, on that festival day. I took the apron that William’s villagers had given me and tied it around my neck and waist, then tucked the bag of mushrooms into the secret fold hidden in its fabric, making sure it was tied shut so that they wouldn’t spill out. Then I walked to the side door of the castle, where the servants entered and exited.

I knew the password to the door. It hadn’t changed in over a decade, the king too lazy to come up with a new one. He didn’t think anyone knew about it. He was wrong.

None of the servants were surprised to see me in the kitchen. Some of them even recognized me, not as the kid who had marched across the country with nothing but a backpack and dirty clothing, but for who I really was. One of them gave me a knife, an ordinary kitchen knife, and a smile.

I used the knife to cut up the mushrooms I had been given and put them into the pot of stew being made specifically for the king. I warned the servants not to drink from it, and they listened. I also warned them not to speak of my actions to anyone until after the night was finished, and they listened to that too. Most of them knew who I was now, and they were eager to see my business finished.

I waited until after the king’s dishes had been placed back into the sink before I emerged from the kitchen, into the dining room, where he sat at the head of a very empty table, belly bloated from food, dressed in riches. When he saw me, his eyes widened with terror, but he could not move. He had eaten my mushrooms.

Say hello. My voice whispered in my ear, and I stepped forward, towards the table.

“Hello, Your Majesty.” I spoke, taking off my apron and folding it neatly in my hands before setting it on the far end of the table. “Father.”

“Theodore.” The king whispered, through straining lips that could barely move.

“Theodore is dead.” I stepped up onto the table, drawing the kitchen knife that I had been given. “He died fighting your war, alongside thousands of soldiers who were not ready to die. I have spent the past year finishing up the business of others, and now I have come to finish my own.”

My father tried once again to stand, to flee, but he was paralyzed, frozen to his chair by the stew that sat heavy inside of him. “You…you cannot be dead…you are here, in front of me.”

“My business is not yet finished.” I replied, striding along the table and crouching down to place my knife underneath his fat chin. “But it’s about to be.”

The king’s business had been finished a long time ago. He did not stay in my head, did not whisper to me what I needed to do, did not tell me stories about his past in order to solidify his future. His business had been finished, and so when I slit his throat with my knife and stained my only other set of clothes with his blood, he was gone. I was not gone. Not yet. My business wasn’t quite finished yet.

It took a month for the country that we had attacked mercilessly to respond to my surrender. They had to confirm that I was indeed the heir to King Fredrick, assumed dead, seen bleeding out among the bodies of the battlefield that I had awoken on. But they responded, and we discussed the terms of my surrender. I signed the peace treaty, sent out word that the war was over, and shook the Queen’s hand.

That was when I died, the wound on my back bursting back into the state it had been when first dealt, blood seeping through my third and final set of clothing and staining it a dark crimson. And my last words to the Queen were;

My name is Theo. Thank you.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #short story #short fiction #gladumf rambles #creative writing #over tagging this because I worked pretty hard on it #if there are spelling mistakes‚ ignore them #long post #tw death #tw blood #tw war #if I need to add more let me know #this piece is either called Unfinished Business or The Lunatic‚ The General‚ and Myself #I couldn't decide which

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screampied · 2 months ago

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#BLOODLINE! s. ryōmen + c. kamo

☆ sum. when they’re both 10s but they’re also vampires. hungry blood-thirsty vampires who’ll stop at nothing to claim you. with how sweet you taste though, maybe humans aren’t so bad after all.

wc. 7.8k

warnings. fem! reader, thrēesomes, vampires! sukuna + choso, pwp, amateur's take on vampires, unprotected, cowgirl dp, manhandling, spīt-roasting, biting, dumbification, size kinks, fighting over you, brēeding kink, mentions of bloōd, implied marathons, fīngering, squīrting, pussydrunk men, cunnīlingus, hair pulling, choking, mistress kink, petnames.

➤ kinktober mlist!

this was crazy - no, this was insane.

not everyday do you have a century plus old vampire between your legs — a vampire who you were actually supposed to exterminate for a pricey reward that was held over his head. both heads. but oh, you were so screwed. not even three days in of getting your official vampire hunter license and you already failed.

rule number one stupid girl: never fuck the vampire. rule number two: never fuck the vampires, plural.

but, you had a scent on you. an alluring fresh scent that made the sukuna ryomen fall weak to his knees. the fragrant—whatever it was smelled very lush with a sprinkled spice of vanilla. it irked him badly, and what irked him the most was the simple fact that he was feeling quite . . parched.

he’s starved, and it’s been a while since he’s had a quenched thirst and satisfied appetite. vampires usually had it rough—especially sukuna, because he’d usually spend most of his years hibernating, and he could live without blood . . for a certain amount of years before he comes well, feral.

but that all changed until you came along, and long story short—here you were sprawled out over his throne with your legs wide open.

“woman,” he snarls, buried right between your thighs. sable honed claws gingerly caress against your skin before his long tongue drags itself out of your pudgy folds. “spread your cunt f’r me before i bite it off.”

“what if i’m into that?” you sheepishly hum, feeling a tear of sweat trickle down your quirked brow. but right as you let off your cheeky remark, a big hand swats at your sopping entrance hard, earning a whimper from your mouth. so wet, your squelches ring through his rusted victorian walls.

sukuna snarls at you, crimson ruby eyes boring into your soul practically before with a sobbing creak, his chamber door opens. the hinges were whining as it unbolts and peeked out was whom you assumed to the other vampire, kamo choso.

you did research on them both—especially choso.

even though both of them were classified as dangerous notorious special grades with huge bounties placed on each of their heads dead or alive, choso was worth far more. you always did want to know why though.

he’s even prettier than person. choso was dressed in nothing but dark toned yet elegant dim clothing. both of their styles were strictly victorian-esque. choso’s hair was slightly matted and down, flowing past his tense shoulders. as unkempt dark strands went through his eyes, it created an attractive a shaggy wolf cut look. “oh,” he timidly murmurs, his eyes averting toward sukuna then at you.

a human,

his heart started to race and he could feel the inside of his mouth salivate with a minuscule amount of water. choso openly stares for a lengthy amount of seconds before nibbling on his tongue with his fangs. with the way he scoffs under his breath and how his body language grows stiff — you can tell, he’s jealous.

“am i .. interrupting, sukuna?”

sukuna groans internally, his tongue still attached to your swollen clit. you were close—he knew it from the way your breathing patterns started to grow irregular and you were struggling to stay still. as your feeble fingers resume to spread your soddened folds further apart for him, he slurps you clean, making all sorts of sloppy noises leave from his think pink lips. “mhm,” and he gives his comrade a side eye. “c’mere, choso. greet our new meal—eh, special guest.”

choso’s gaze never leaves yours, and as he tucks his head underneath his cape, he kneels down beside sukuna. “h- hi,” he swallows thickly, trailing his bloodshot irises that dramatically dilated each second he spent staring at your body.

god, were you pretty.

“hi ch— fuck,” you moan, feeling sukuna’s fangs delicately brush near your cunt. it almost tickled but you weren’t laughing, and your thighs were on the verge of snapping shut. choso stands there, watching as his own whetted fangs dig into his pouty bottom lip. “choso, do you wanna try too?”

“can i?” he blurts eagerly, but he gets flustered the second he sees your lips curving into a soft smile. after all, embarrassment was always his best friend.

choso’s kneeled right beside sukuna and he has an almost scowl marinating against his facial features. with a grumpy glower, he’s watching his partner act so greedy. the pink haired vampire’s got a chin that’s just streaming with slick and he can’t help but pout.

it’s probably been decades since he—since they encountered a vampire hunter, and now you were here. not only that, but choso was the entire opposite of sukuna. he doesn’t know the first thing on how to please a woman. “i mean . . is it okay, miss?”

sukuna snickers, briefly breaking his lips away before strumming a fat thumb down your drooling slit. “tch. such a wuss,” and his reddened gaze meets yours as a sly smile twists across the crevices of his lips. “excuse him. he’s a bit, heh, inexperienced.”

“that’s not—” it was, and choso lets off a cute frustrated huff but his demeanor softens the moment you claw a hand through his slightly matted wolfcut. dozens of loose tresses twirl between your fingers and he lets off a quiet purr, leaning into your touch. “mhm,” and he looks up at you—then at your pretty swollen cunt that was just pulsing second after second.

so pretty, it almost looks like a flower. easily akin to a vanilla orchid—he found himself about to drool the more he stared. choso was just millimeters away from a single taste and he couldn’t help but moan once he abruptly got a strong whiff of your candied balmy scent.

“it’s okay,” you murmur, trailing your middle finger down his tender scalp. sukuna’s right beside him, rolling his eyes whilst licking his spit-slick lips. as you remain slouched on sukuna’s primeval throne—your legs sprawl out just a bit wider and you bite your lip. “give it a little kiss.”

“y- yes, miss,” choso utters, and your eyes flicker down toward his lips. perfectly shaped—they have somewhat of an almost natural pout as they purse together—rosy pink and quivering in anticipation.

as he moves his face closer between your legs, you let off a gasp once his plump wet lips gradually smooch against your clit. “hng,” he groans, the sap of your own slick stringing against his mouth. choso can’t help but sneak his tongue down your pulsating clit for a better taste and oh, the way his eyes rolled back. “s- so good.”

sukuna clicks his tongue, growing impatient as his sharpened claws dig into the thin wooly fabric of his burgundy-black cloak.

“that’s it—good, yeah,” you softly coo out, tightening your grip against his head just a little.

choso had no clue what he was doing and it was adorable. his tongue was just as long as sukuna’s, mirroring the same forked-like shape. the softly spiky texture makes you squirm and writhe, feeling pleasurable twinges surge all throughout every inch of your body.

“fuuckk,” you gasp, feeling him suck against your clit. it’s overly sensitive, and he moans, feeling you throb right in his mouth. “mhm, suck there. right there, baby.”

baby, he wasn’t used to such words of affection. petnames, what you might call it. choso’s pointed ears cutely twitch and his nose wrinkles the second his sucking steadily intensifies. “mpmh,” and you can feel him taking a few seconds to sniff against your cunt once more.

“he gets off to being praised,” sukuna huskily jabbers, watching choso turn absolutely pussy drunk within seconds. you could tell just from his expressions alone. that sly yet sleazy grin compressing near the corners of his mouth, hooded eyes and drooling profusely from the sides of his mouth—

yeah, he was entirely weak. weak for you.

as his tongue slowly massages its way between the cracked slit of your pussy, he feels your grip in his hair tighten. “does he?” you utter, and you can hear a shuddering breath leave from choso’s mouth.

he swallows thickly again, wondering when the part was gonna come. the part where you’d finish your job, your mission—out of all the vampire hunters he’s stumbled across, he’s never been between one’s legs . . let alone being spared.

but he wasn’t complaining, not at all.

“mhm,” the older vampire sukuna grumbles, teasingly wrapping a hand around choso’s broad neck. choso moans from his touch too, and sukuna brushes a thumb down the valley of his sensitive scalp. “he can’t help it. praise him once and he’ll finish right on the spo—”

“s.. sukuna,” choso glares, still having a mouth full of your cunt.

the squelches you made from each succulent suckle was quite loud, constantly reverberating through the ancient chamber walls. but oh, your taste was simply divine. unlike any cuisine he’s ever tried. choso would rate your pussy five stars if he could.

you’re so wet — sopping a pretty cascading stream that flows down his chiseled chin to where he’s literally just drowning in your cunt. choso was a quick learner though, despite having little to no experience.

a raw breath rips out of your lungs once you feel your thighs grow weak. his tongue extends a bit inside of your cunt, curling it’s way around and in zigzags to make your toes curl in surprising rapture.

“f- fuck, like that,” you whimper out, and suddenly a dark silhouette overshadows you. slowly, your eyes look up to see sukuna standing right over you with a cunning toothy leer.

your eyes rove down his dark cloak that covers his body entirely, although you couldn’t help but want to see more.

like mentioned before—you’ve done your research about them both. as a vampire hunter, it was well, required.

sukuna had to be over a few thousand years old with choso not that far from behind. “silly, silly woman,” he tsks with a taunting head shake.

sukuna cups your chin and you moan once choso’s hooked nose starts to brush up and down against your clit.

you meet the eyes of a blood-thirsty vampire who’s got the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen. “you know,” his voice seductively pitches low, and the rough bass that smooths underneath his tone makes you feel a wave of butterflies swarm near the pit of your stomach. a thumb swipes against your glossed lips before he bends, getting right close to your face level. “usually, this is the part where you kill us, you know that, right?”

“i—know,” and for a second, you nearly let off a mewl once you feel choso’s fangs softly nip against your tender cunt.

you were throbbing heavily, and he’s just slobbering all over your entrance just to lap it right back up back with his tongue like the feral animal he was.

it was cute how conflicted you were — your eyes didn’t know where to look, whom to focus on, nothing. .

even so, as your back remains reclined back against the timber-made throne, your brows furrow. he’s right, moments ago you should have pulled out your stake or firearm, getting rid of them and collecting quite a delicious sum of bounty for both of their heads - dead or alive.

but, as the thought struck you — why, why didn’t you finish them off. what’s stopping you?

you didn’t know, and quite frankly, you didn’t care.

besides, it was technically only the first few days of your new job and something internally was screaming at you that this probably wasn’t your right field of expertise anyway.

and the fact that the ‘target’ you were supposed to eliminate was propped up between your legs was . . something.

hell, maybe it was even a sign.

“oh, i see,” sukuna huffs, sliding a thumb across your pursed lips, wanting your pout crease more. cute. “you want more, that right, stupid girl?” a rough voice purrs out to you, and he can see the pout starting to form over your lips once you give him a slow nod. “yeah, yeah you do,” and he looks down at choso who’s got his pretty flapping lashes closed, sliding a hand inside of his cloak.

he’s groaning against your cunt, stroking himself off and whimpering against your folds that sobbed for more. sukuna cups your chin, pressing your lips together. “i don’t speak nod. use those words, tell me what you want.”

“y.. you both,” and it comes out like a lewd broken whisper. by this point, you were shameless. it’s almost as if you were in a dream—maybe even a fan fiction.

as those fatal words leave from your lips, your eyes roll back once choso’s continuing to slurp against your cunt - savoring each honeyed drop of your juices. he’s still on his knees as his pointed ears twitch from each whine and mewl that pours away from your lips.

sukuna groans under his breath, feeling himself get hard as he takes a few occasional glances.

choso’s face was right up against your pussy, and he made sure to run and trace his tongue in every single spot that would make you sing out pretty ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’'s for him. he’s craved a good meal for the longest and the meal between your thighs was all that he really needed.

“greedy girl,” sukuna grouses, lightly squeezing your chin, making you give him your attention back. ruby red eyes flicker toward your exposed nude neck — such precious skin all out and on display, a vampire’s favorite part of the body.

the thoughts of imagining what you tasted like from just a single bite clogged his entire brain. just a single drink of you - just one would have him probably at your mercy - no, he had to focus.

sukuna shakes his head with an annoyed grunt, pressing his head against yours as you lied back. “both, huh? can you really handle that, princess?”

“yes—”

“look at me when you speak, girl,” and you feel an overwhelming increase of thumps in your heart once he’s only inches away from pressing his lips against yours.

the eye contact was brutal - sensual.

his eyes lock onto yours and it’s as if you’re staring directly at a pool of bloody scarlet jewels. you could honestly get lost in sukuna’s eyes. such irises never leave yours and you gulp, looking him right in the eye before watching choso starting to bite near your thighs. “repeat yourself, go on.”

with a shaky voice, you drag choso’s head closer between your thighs before whining once he glides his forked tongue against your throbbing pearly nub. “i want you both. p.. please, wan’ you both.”

and the last thing you’d expect was for them to be eating you out — at the same damn time.

both vampires were propped up between your legs as you’re spread open with the cutest expression plastered on your face.

god, this was fucked.

as two forked tongues flick and swipe against your clit, nibbling on your tender gummy flesh, you let off the most melodic whine. it rips straight out of your throat, bouncing off the century old walls. the texture of both tongues — you felt the plush spikes that run against their tastebuds, feeling sukuna hold your nub hostage with choso trapping his your pretty clit with his fangs.

“fuck, ‘m so c- close,” you’d whine out, staring at them both as they’re between your legs with hazy blown pupils. both of your hands fish through their hair, gasping heavily once they start to slurp nearly everything out of you at such at maddened pace.

it was one thing with teeth — but they had fangs, and they both made sure you felt the keen edges against your sopping cunt every single time.

“mmph,” choso mewls out, wrapping his mouth around your slick entrance. sukuna’s only a few kilometers apart, and the older vampire grunts once he tries to push him away. with pouty glossed lips, choso gives your clit a kiss before briefly departing. “ ‘kuna,” he huffs cutely, and you watch as his chin has an even shiner coat of your arousal racing down. “you’re bein’ greedy..”

“good,” sukuna jibes, and you whimper loudly once his long tongue trails further down. it stops right once it reaches your winking hole. it was so long, it located places you didn’t even know could be reached. a fluttering feeling settled inside the very pits of your stomach before he spits on your cunt.

it’s a rude ‘pft’ and you watch as a syrupy strand dribbles down onto your heat. choso’s lip quivers as he stares too, going back to touching himself.

he rarely touched himself — but when he did, it always felt heavenly. “cho,” he grouses, smearing a fat thumb against your cunt that’s soaking up the dribbling saliva. “clean her off for me.”

choso’s eyes widen. but he was too feral to reply, and as if his lips had a mind of it’s own, he leans in and let’s his mouth do the rest of the talking.

honey, your taste was almost equivalent to honey. choso whines against your clit as he drinks you clean, the soddened pure taste of you never departing from his tastebuds. he shamelessly laps up sukuna’s saliva that pours down your pudgy wet folds before softly thrusting his tongue in and out of your cunt.

“fuck,” you moan, feeling your legs starting to spasm. sukuna goes back between and they’re both latching their pink pointed tongues against your tender muscle. you even watch as their tongues touch, getting tangled together and all. choso grows flustered and sukuna’s for the same sly smile on his lips, teasingly licking near choso’s bottom lip before going back to your pussy.

squelch, you were so wet . . profusely drooling. with how wet you were, you were putting faucets to unruly shame.

your thighs were covered in various marks and as they both shared the same pussy drunk grin, that’s when you finally snap.

right when the tip of sukuna’s forked tongue rudely thwacks against your sweetened g-spot, you end up gushing out right away. it creeps up on you like a jump scare, hitting you like a truck, an inevitable wave that came crashing down without warning.

“fuck, ngh oh my god!” and as you’re coming undone on their tongues, you were holding in a breath you didn’t even know you had.

seconds later as you gradually let go, your tummy’s continuing to heave from each exhilarated pant leaving from your lungs. with hooded eyelids fluttering, you end up spraying a sweet amount of sap onto the bottoms of their chins. sukuna snickers and choso quietly gasps—

“my my,” sukuna hums, licking his tongue underneath his bottom lip, savoring the taste. “so the human’s a squirter also, interesting,” and you couldn’t my stop panting.

your orgasm was loud, and it rang through each of the ancient walls that were so old that they were on the verge of crumbling down after centuries of standing tall. your own voice nearly shatters the victorian mirrors as you leisurely succumb into awaited pleasure, releasing your grip from their heads. you glance down and see sukuna already staring at you, giving your cunt one final kiss. “cute, think i’ll take my time with you, princess.”

choso pouts, panting himself as his tongue licks near the crevice of his lips. “y.. you mean us, ‘kuna.”

sukuna rolls his eyes with a grimacing scowl. “eh, right.”

many moments later — once you’re lightly thrown on sukuna’s king sized bed, you gulp.

now you were fucked.

they were more hungrier than ever, especially choso. the taste of your sweet cunt still lingers and his mouth, on his tongue—and he only imagined how sweeter your sacred blood must be.

“choso, watch me,” sukuna gruffs, and you let him flip your body over. landing into the cushions with a soft ‘oof’ your cheek gets pressed against a velvet pillow. “humans are fragile, so you don’t wanna break ‘em too bad,” and you moan once his hand swats against your bare ass. the recoil makes your entire body tense and you chew on your lip, quietly wishing he’d spank you again.

you weren’t really wearing anything except for maybe a black skirt that was now torn to practical shreds and a blouse that was halfway raised toward the top. as sukuna shuffles a bit, he springs out his thick cock and oh, you could tell he was big just from hearing the stroking sounds from behind you.

he grunts, giving his veiny shaft a few ample pumps before aligning himself against your swollen entrance. “look at herrrr,” he purrs, spreading your cunt apart with two fingers as your ass arched upward.

you were still drenched with your panties clinging toward the gummed crevices of your thighs. right as he toys with your dilating clit, he can hear the sloshing sounds make it’s return before darkly chuckling. “eager, isn’t she choso? her pretty pussy’s tryin’ to talk back. how quaint.”

“sukuna,” choso pouts, pushing him off. “let me, i know how to—” and he pauses, his eyes intently gazing at your pulsing cunt.

he was still so hungry. he just wanted another taste. just one more slurp of your slick and he’ll be satisfied. his thirst would be quenched. choso shakes his head, letting off a shaky sigh. “i know how t- to fuck.”

“he doesn’t,” sukuna mouths to you in a cocky manner, getting in front of you.

the pink haired vampire stands near the edge of the bed, a hand cupping underneath your chin. “it’s okay, you can look,” he smugly says, feeling your eyes burn into his weighty length that’s standing tall.

the shadow that’s underneath it makes it appear even bigger, and oh, it’s not just big - it’s huge.

sukuna’s very thick with insane amounts of girth for days, and your eyes slowly flicker toward his pretty tip that’s swollen. spurts of pre-cum seeping from his frenulum and you can’t help but give his tip a few greeting kisses. he sucks his teeth at the audacity, wide jaw tightening at your tender touch. the more you stare, you notice he’s got a bit of pink hair that curls it way around his fat base, almost forming a bush.

it’s unintentionally attractive, and you even found yourself gawking at his shaggy happy trail too. “touch me more, woman,” he utters, as if he read your mind. his rough tone getting a bit softer. “go ‘head.”

as you wrap a hand around his cock, you can hear choso’s sweet whimpers in the background. “oh, my,” and his sweltering hot tip’s just ghosting against your yearning slick entrance. you let off a hum, teasingly wriggling your ass a bit just to get a reaction out of him and you did. “ugh,” he moans with an needy hiss following, sliding his flushed crownhead against your swallowing cunt. “kuna she’s gonna m- make me cum.”

“thought you said you knew how to fuck?” sukuna titters, ogling as you slowly bring your plump lips up to his shaft.

with a grumble, choso kisses his teeth. “shut up,” and as his dick aligns itself between your swollen folds, he lets off a breathy sigh. “fuuuck,” he could feel you wholly trying to swallow him as he eases his way inside.

right there, choso felt a chill run down his spine. you were warm inside, and it makes him gnaw a fang down his quivering lip once his lengthy inches rummages farther. “hng, ‘s so good, she’s so wet, ‘kuna,” he murmurs in a soft tone, his words that slide past his lips shaking from each breath.

hearing your own moans leave from your lips makes him harder. sukuna grunts, watching as you press another chaste kiss against his mushroomy tip.

lustrous strands of pre-cum stick against your lips and he groans, tight abs that hid within the inside of his cloak tensing right away. “that’s it, ‘s all yours, princess,” and a hand of his paws it’s way onto the top of your head. once his dick starts to slowly disappear in your mouth, he lets off a near growl. whitened fangs poke from the outer parts of his lip before he feels your moan vibrate against his shaft. “mhm, atta girl. get it wet, spit on it.”

“hah, ‘m not gonna last,” choso breathlessly huffs, and with his hands gripping on both sides of your waist, he’s starting up a pace. it’s a slow pace that you could keep up with in terms of rhythm, but fuck was he big too.

choso had just as much of girth as sukuna did, maybe even more.

he’s stretching you out with just a few beginning thrusts and your eyes already widen. “mpmh,” and as your mouth’s full, cheeks all puffed from storing sukuna’s cock inside, you pull it out to allow a bit of drool pout from your lips and onto his tip.

the vampire flashes you a wolffish smile as his fingers softly massage down your scalp, his claws gingerly stroking against your tresses. your back was arched to a sudden with your body slightly raised, facing sukuna whilst your rear was focusing purely on choso.

sukuna studies your body, your pretty face, your fluttering flapping lashes, your tight tight throat that’s making lewd noises every once in and while, but most importantly, he studies you.

it doesn’t take long before his fat cockhead starts to create ‘love’ taps against your uvula. your eyes widen and you let off a tiny gargle at feeling him reach the roof of your mouth within no time, clawing your own hands into his beefy thighs.

“such a tight ‘lil throat for a pretty human,” he grunts, feeling you pop out his cock to lap up the remnants of your saliva.

choso’s still plummeting into you from behind, giving you soft sensual strokes yet they soon turn rigorous and deep once he feels your ass slam into him. once your skin goes back against him, that was merely all it took for him to lose it. it makes his ears twitch even more—and he whimpers, falling on love with your cunt right away.

it’s sloppy. already, you’re starting to stick and glue against his chiseled pelvis each time you rut back into him. choso’s hips were downright filthy, and it only takes him a few minutes before he’s meticulously drilling into you at full speed. his cock’s precise, making sure to hunt and search through every part of your cunt with his aching tip.

“fuck,” he hisses, a sweaty palm of his giving your right ass cheek a squeeze. as he grabs a nice chunk of your ass, he can’t help but spank it.

but he feels bad afterwards so the sting shortly goes away once his palm caresses a few circles against your hot temple.

the recoil of your skin always mesmerized him - he found himself in a trance every time. simply put, you had him enticed.

choso moans again, feeling your warm body rock back into his at such an unsteady pace to where he’s stammering over his words. “s. . so pretty.”

“the inside of her mouth’s even prettier,” sukuna sneers, and with a loud ‘pop’, he removes his dick from out of your throat.

you pout, lolling out your tongue without him having to say anything and he hums in patent amusement. “ain’t that right, princess?” and with a whack, his fat meaty tip slaps against your pink tongue.

you moan, and he slaps his flushed cock against your tongue three more times just to hear you whine for him to finish. “fuckin’ hungry, are ya, ‘lil hunter? you didn’t care about bounties, you just cared about gettin’ your sloppy cunt wet, huh.”

“mmph—sukuna,” you mumble, your words nearly inaudible once he rubs his leaky tip against your lips. his tip’s so fat and swollen as a rosé color shades over it from top to bottom. just a few seconds of him being out of your mouth and you were already drooling for more - literally.

choso’s breathing starts to pick up the longer he’s giving you such rough pivotal thrusts. you could feel him practically humping his weak hips into you, and he’s sniffling because he can’t believe humans felt this good inside.

“aw, are you mad, little human?” sukuna gruffly mocks, tracing a thumb over your arched brow.

the scowl that indents between the corners of your lips was adorable. “heh, how spoiled you must be. fine. open your mouth again,” and he views as you quickly comply, sticking out your tongue with your hands grabbing your neglected breasts that hid beneath your bra. “good girl.”

this merely lasts for a century — not really, but it felt like it.

lightning like veins ran down sukuna’s cock and you felt them prod against your tongue, meanwhile choso’s almost hysterical once he ends up dumping ribbons of cum into you. early at that, and he’s never been more embarrassed.

choso fucks you for a long while, and it’s until his thrusts against you becomes insignificantly sloppy and he’s overflowed your cunt with ropes of searing hot cum. it’s so much that it dribbles down your thighs, spritzing all on your clit and gluing against your skin like paste.

“ngh, f- forgive me,” he’d whine, peering as sukuna’s finishing up himself.

with a feral growl, he’s fisting his cock just a few more times before it’s his turn to finish now. you got filled in both ways, and once the bitterly sweet taste of his seed mists into your mouth, you let off a moan. “good . . good girl,” choso rubs the back of his neck, trying to mimic sukuna’s praises he did on you earlier.

you’re still on all fours and your eyelashes flutter as he’s continuing to spill out such slimy amounts of cum. the taste has a bit of a sugary tang that makes your nose crinkle. “swallow,” the older vampire murmurs, a long black claw of his softly caressing the edge of your lip.

a few droplets dribble from the corners of your lips once you obey, moaning once you feel choso unhurriedly pull out. he’s slow, feeling his chest heave out with a heavy sigh as your cunt let’s out a loud ‘pop’ after he gradually takes it out of you.

his tip was throbbing, and as he stared at his own cum oozing out of your swollen pussy, he can’t help but run a finger down it. you feel yourself clenching around nothing now and you can’t help but pout.

“tch. where’s your manners, woman,” sukuna raises a pink slit brow, grabbing your chin. your lips still remain pouty due to how much he’s squeezing against your plump lips together and you let off a whimper.

crisp air sets against your bare ass and skin as you meet his carmine-red gaze. “you’re supposed to say ‘thank you’ for the meal. go on.”

“t . . thank you, ‘kuna,” you softly snivel, feeling yourself pulse the more choso runs his finger down your flabby folds. he’s touchy, his fingers felt hot and shocking like static - and the more he maneuvers tiny circles around your clit, the more you felt your knees starting to grow weaker again.

“hn.” is all he replies with, and just when you thought they were finished — they weren’t.

you said you wanted both of them, not just one but two. and you know what they always say, the more the merrier . . right?

but it’s a bit different when the ‘merrier’ involves two ancient cocks.

to say you got stretched to the very fullest was merely an understatement. they each took turns with you, round after round after fucking round . .

your legs felt practically nonexistent, and every time they’d dump a knot into your sweet cunt, you’d feel like you were about to burst. round after round after round, they’d coax out orgasms out of you like it was nothing—especially sukuna.

choso was the one whining in your ear, whining even louder than you sometimes. he couldn’t help it, especially with how good your pussy wrapped around his dick so freely. it was a feeling he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced—and if he did, it was a long long time ago anyway.

but now, you were preparing to take them both at the same time. the thrill of the thought alone makes your thighs shudder as sukuna’s sinking his thick cock into you. already, he feels you gaping and you can’t help but moan at the elastic stretch unfurling wider and wider. .

the pink haired vampire was propped behind you while choso’s lying flat back against the sofa. it’s a pretty view, and choso’s staring right into your eyes. your pretty eyes—he’s never been one to lust over a mere human, but it was just something about you. with you, it was different.

sukuna on the the other hand—he couldn’t really care less. he’s centuries old and it’s been what, a decades since he’s got laid? it was just who he was - but he wouldn’t mind keeping you around for a while.

for centuries, the two of them lived their tedious lives inside of what appeared to be some kind of abandoned castle—you actually ended up stumbling upon it in the forest by accident while looking for them. the vampires you were supposed to kill, and yet here you were, about to be double stuffed by both of them.

“nice ‘n easy you two. biiiig fuckin’ stretch,” sukuna gruffs, wrapping a big hand around his hardened cock.

it’s flushed and veiny from the rigid sides, florid from the crowned tip with a ruby shade as he’s still getting over his recent orgasm. you’re sopping, your cunt’s crying for more and the sloshes that sang out from your folds only grew louder the more he’s burying himself inside of your gummy pasty walls. “choso, you’re not gonna faint again, are ya?”

“s- shut up,” choso grumbles, a rosy tiny spraying a half part of his face. as choso aligns himself between your entrance also, he let’s off a low sigh at the welcoming squelch your pussy make.

‘pop’ and fuck, could he listen to that all day. just the sloppy noises you made—to him, that was music in itself. “god, ‘m still so sensitive, m- mistress.”

with a sheepish hum, you cup both sides of his face, speaking in a teasing tone. “mistress?”

“i—” choso pauses, a vermillion flush spraying over his entire face. fuck, his words slipped, and he’s felt that wave of embarrassed returning right away.

it was adorable though, and as you continue to bare around both of their cocks, he can’t help but lean into your tender touch. “i mean-”

“no, it’s okay,” you reassure him, moaning once your bare ass gets a swift rude swat from sukuna’s palm. within no time, you’re starting to move your hips again, feeling yourself get stuffed in all orifices.

your sheeny-slicked lips part into a gasping ‘o’ once you feel sukuna then rub a hand against your clit. “fuck,” you whine, and sukuna hisses himself once he feels your clingy grip around his cock tighten. his hips were sharp, and it doesn’t take long before you start to match his deranged rhythm. averting your eyes back toward choso who’s laid back so prettily on the bed underneath you, speak in a soft voice. “ ‘s okay, you can call me that.”

“yeah, cho. call the pretty girl ‘mistress’, heh.” sukuna derides.

with a cute grouse, choso glares at sukuna—but his expression quickly falters once you fall into his chest, slumping into his body. his tight sculptured abs that resembled a greek god peeks through his victorian inky cloak ghost against you and a bit of hair from his happy trail tickles against your tummy.

“shut . . up,” he grumbles at sukuna, but now it’s his turn to cup your face. “m- mistress,” and a thumb of his runs against your cheek.

sukuna groans from behind you both as he’s fucking you from behind—his deep pivotal strokes slowly weakening due to how sensitive he was. it almost stings, but with the way your cunt’s holding him hostage for all its worth, he just couldn’t stop.

“hm,” your eyes meet the dark haired vampire and his bottom lip quivers. just your stare alone was enough to drive him up the first street of insanity.

you’ve done quite your fair share amount of research on these two and what the media reports about them in the papers always shocks you. they typically always describe them as the ‘blood-thirsty duo’ monsters who would mercilessly tear limb from limb off of anyone who dares cross their path.

funnily enough, they said the most heinous things about choso in particular—but now that you were quite literally being filled with them both in each hole, choso was more sweet than anything. the papers described him as a ruthless blood-sucking vampire but he was the sweetest—especially whenever he’s overstimmed and whiny.

and sukuna . . he’s sukuna.

but you were still alive—so that was something, right?

“can . . may i,” and it takes you a moment to realize what he’s asking for.

choso wants to kiss you, and you can tell by the way his big wide eyes continue to flicker toward your own eyes, then back toward your glossed plump lips. he wanted a taste, he needed it.

“y- yeah,” you moan, feeling sukuna’s heavy cock reach an even deeper angle inside of you. you’re taking them both, feeling your entire legs get weaker by the second but that feeling suddenly disintegrates once choso presses his lips onto yours.

it’s a sultry hot kiss. a kiss that he’s been longing to do ever since he walked in on you and sukuna. choso’s forked tongue delves more into your mouth as you’re riding him with sukuna guiding your hips in place.

it’s sloppy, and he’s been pathetically aching for more of a taste from you for the longest. choso wasn’t fond of sharing you with sukuna—he wished it was you and him, but he couldn’t complain. at least he wasn’t going to complain yet.

“mmh,” you moan into his mouth, feeling his scarred hands softly caress near your breasts that poke through your bra. choso whines, nipping at your tongue with his serrated-sharp fangs before he lets off a gasp.

“ngh, oh fuck,” choso whimpers between your lips and deprived kisses. his arms end up enveloping around your waist, holding you close as sukuna’s driving his cock into you as such a crazed speed from behind.

as your lashes stick together briefly — they flutter shut before opening again. glancing up with droopy eyes, you watch as choso’s currently grabbing onto the wooden creaking headboard, a plethora of veins bulging down his swole biceps.

sukuna grunts behind your ear and within seconds later, he’s taking a playful harmless chomp out of your left shoulder blade.

your skin - so sweet, and his pronged tongue swirls its way around the fang marks that starts to form before choso ends up cumming early again.

“fuck, fuck,” choso whines, feeling his chest tighten. your pussy had them both weak, especially with choso more than anything, because he fills you up with another knot that exudes its way deep inside. it shoots out fast, pouring into you before a few remnants trickle down the crevices of your inner thighs.

your deadened legs struggle to stay open and he brings another needy wet kiss to your lips before he starts panting. “i- i need, need more,” and his eyes stare at your neck. “please, just a taste.”

“wait your turn, choso,” sukuna snarls, pulling you back to sink his fangs further into your skin. oh, they were fighting over you. choso lets off a cute huff before ignoring sukuna, glancing at you.

his eyes and pouty quivering lips were telling you ‘please’, and as you continued to slowly jerk your hips against them both, you let off a soft bashful, “g. . go ahead.”

but choso’s still cumming too—his ropes of cum was so sweet and came out so smoothly that it’s like he was pouring molasses of syrupy ribbons into you.

within a blink of an eye, it pumps into you raw, and choso nearly loses it once his fangs pierce down into the right side of your neck. “ah,” he whimpers, hot breath fanning against your skin. softly, his sharp fangs delicately nip into your sweet toothsome skin and it feels like a tiny prick.

you moan as you’re barely moving anymore, but they’re both still very deep inside, keeping each sloppy aperture of yours very, very busy.

“so dramatic,” sukuna rolls his eyes, a feeling of jealousy washing over him. you’re squeezing around him tight and he groans, clawing a few fingers toward your chest and unclasping your bra.

with hungry claret eyes that favors the color of rich red wine, he openly gawks as your breasts spring free and he gingerly pinches one of your perked nipples. “look at these girls, so perfect,” and you moan at his touch.

choso on the other hand looked so pretty. he’s still enjoying his ‘meal’ and the second his fangs cut deep enough into your skin, he tastes that sprinkle of metallic sweetness before he ends up cumming again.

he’s cumming while he’s feeding off of you — drinking your lusciously appetizing blood, and he hasn’t had a fill as good as this in probably centuries.

it’s so good that his mouth was watering, and the vampire loses his momentum before slouching further back with his teeth still attached to your skin like velcro. a pout curls against his lips as he makes you grind back into him, feeling both cocks stretch you open even more. “mh,” he whimpers, honed edges of his fangs creating various marks. you couldn’t wait to look at it later.

sukuna’s still fondling your tits and cupping them with both side hands before he bites near the other side of your neck, showering the exposed part of your skin with a multitude of kisses.

“careful, princess. you’re gonna break him,” he whispers in a raspy tone, and a hand of his trails further down between your legs.

“s- shut up, suku— fuck,” choso whines, and it’s an even larger knot than before.

it’s hot before it pumps inside of you yet again, filling you to the very peak. creamy globs of it race down your thighs as his mouth’s still clinging onto your bare shoulder blade. your taste, it was so rich . . so succulent.

your taste was almost so overbearing that it makes the flustered vampire’s eyes roll all the back until it reaches his skull, and he’s now feeling his dick twitching sporadically inside of you. “mistress, fuck. i- ‘s so much inside of you, f . . forgive me.”

he ends up shooting a huge load inside that stirs the insides of your flittering tummy. you were sure some even reached deep into womb, you wouldn’t be surprised due to just how big they both were.

but even so, and you couldn’t help but ponder . . could vampires get humans pregnant?

you didn’t plan on it, but that reality of being stuffed full of each of them made your stomach churn with a pool of butterflies living inside, swarming all around and fluttering at just the lewd thought of it all. you were filled to the very max - the very brim, and it leaves you panting for more.

you all remain like that until sukuna finally pries you off of choso, crimson eyes gazing at the mess that spills between your thighs. “tsk. how filthy,” and you land on your back, staring up at the two vampires who share the same blood-lust gaze.

“spread ‘em again, princess. least we can do is clean ya up,” and he nudges choso who’s just lied flat against the bed, still in awe—starstruck.

your pussy probably did break him.

“choso. c’mere,” he snaps in his face, and the dark haired vampire blinks thrice, returning back to reality. he groans, sitting up with sheets of sweat racing down each sides of his face. “our girl need’s cleaning.”

“o- oh, right,” he quietly stammers, a bit of your blood from earlier staining his pink lips. a permanent pout remains on his mouth before he licks them clean, and he can’t help but lean in, giving you one more kiss.

your heart swoons, and as you return the embrace. milliseconds pass and you gradually start to feel sukuna spreading your legs, ogling at the mess they created, the mess that’s pumped into you fully.

velvety ribbons of cum racing down each of your thighs, you were still throbbing ferociously and you let off a moan once you swipe your tongue across choso’s lips, relishing in the taste of your own sweet irony blood.

as your tongues vigorously twirl around each, trying to assert dominance between each twisting muscle—you let off a whimper in choso’s mouth once you feel sukuna’s breath aerate against your clit.

without even batting an eye, he starts to lap the cum out between your puffy folds before he gives it one loooong suck. your chest automatically heaves in and out before your arms wrap around choso’s broad shoulders, tangling saliva strands together and creating lustrous sleek cobwebs.

but, as your lips were locked against choso, you feel something between your legs. sukuna gives your pussy one long sniff, then he does it again, and one more time before gifting it a pat. “oh. .”

choso nibbles at your bottom lip with his fangs before sukuna meanly spanks your cunt. a bit of your own slick sprays against his palm and he hums.

“choso,” he huskily says, teasingly pointing the end of his claw near your pulsating clit. it was hovering over your entrance . . and still, you let off a whimper at the sensitive feeling. “i think i know why our pretty girl smelled so good all this time.”

“huh,” the dark haired vampire briefly pulls away, panting heavily just as you. choso glances down at sukuna before feeling his chest cave in and out. “w . . why, sukuna?”

you look down at sukuna, your brows contorting into a curious look yourself.

sukuna gives your sopping cunt one long stare before giving it a kiss. “mwah,” and you moan, watching as wet strands peel away from your pudgy folds and glue back onto his mouth.

he’s sloppy, and he couldn’t care less. the vampire rubs a circle around your entrance before snickering darkly.

“because,” and he spanks your pussy once more time before playfully putting his fangs against your clit as if he was about to bite you. with a dull expression, sukuna leans in to smell between your legs one more time before whispering against your clit.

“—you’re ovulating, princess.”

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