#made feral maybe even

[thornetabris]

this is the gayest thing in star wars since luke's channel boots to the sarlacc pit btw.

[izzystizzys]

“ - but have you ever considered, I don’t know, not sucking all the time? Just a thought.”

It takes the combined grips of Nuisance and Hound to keep the wriggling, snarling body beneath Fox from throwing him off its back. With three years’ practice of having to fix his own rickety desk chair over and over again, the movement merely ruffles the proverbial fringe on his helmet.

“And I don’t mean that as an insult, necessarily. Well, I do a little bit. But also I have some amount of empathy for the no doubt immense amounts of trauma that had to go into the creation of something so dysfunctional as you, on a very personal level, so have you considered going to the root of that in a way that’s like… useful? Instead of wasting it all on kriffing Kenobi, I mean. Look at the guy. All he does all day is drink tea and commit warcrimes. I bet he knits for fun. Bit of an embarrassing nemesis, don’t you think?”

“I”, says Kenobi, then pauses. The space between his eyebrows is creased with uncertainty, and he looks deeply torn between continuing rocking the shaking Duchess of Mandalore against his chest from his corner of the throne room and re-activating his lightsaber to continue losing his fight against the Darksider Fox is currently sitting on. “I feel like I should object to some part of that, but I’m not entirely clear on what. Or how this happened, again. Isn’t Mandalore a few star systems from your purview, Commander?”

“Probably the warcrimes”, mutters Nuisance underneath his strained breath.

“About as far from my supposed assignment as yours, General”, says Fox a little louder.

Kenobi twitches. Fox cannot claim to know which of them does it. Both, maybe. Probably.

“I will - taste - your - flesh!”, heaves out Darth Maul, snarling and hissing.

“Oooh, kinky!”, calls Grids, from the corner where she’s got her stun-setting aimed at the other Zabrak, currently passed out cold. Fox sighs deeply. He knew he shouldn’t have taken those three - any combination of Grids, Hound and Nuisance in a room together usually spelled chaos.

Unfortunately, it also spelled competence. The Basic alphabet can be funny that way.

The point being: as of some months into the war, one of Fox’s assigned tasks is the surveillance of all GAR-wide communication. All command-class staff theoretically got that memo, but no one seems to have read the fine print where that includes both professional and personal communication, as well as any and all comm devices registered or suspected to be registered to that person. Especially not one Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala.

The point further being, if that sounds both immensely impractical and sort of terrifying in a democratic supposedly non-surveillance state, you’d be bang on the credits, and to Fox’ eternal chagrin the singular person in this whole useless army who’s spent the second of thinking necessary for that conclusion.

The final point being, when one frantic General’s mad dash across the Galaxy to rescue his teenage sweetheart from the spectre of his supposedly dead nemesis crosses his desk on its way to the Chancellor’s inbox, it doesn’t take much time for him to block any and all trace of it across the digital space of the GAR commboard and take matters into his own hands.

“ - which is why I told Thorn to suck it up and be in charge for a few days, and also why you’re still alive, your Highness, very welcome, was no trouble at all”, he concludes, drily. The Duchess stares the wide-eyed look of someone attempting to reconcile clones with ‘sentience’ or perhaps ‘personality’ in her head, but won’t say it outright.

Or the look of someone who’s just been violently overthrown and nearly murdered, perhaps, Fox allows.

“Um -“, Kenobi hedges, blinking rapidly.

“And the reason you’re still alive, probably. You’re welcome for that too, by the way”, Grids calls from the back of the throne room, cheekily.

“Alright”, says Kenobi, loudly. There’s color back in his deathly-pale cheeks, Fox notes, even if that color is a lot of red. It doesn’t fade very gracefully into his beard. “Opinions on whether or not I had everything under control notwithstanding -“

“You really didn’t”, Hound supplies helpfully.

“ - opinions notwithstanding, I am admittedly still lost on why you’re now sitting on Darth Maul and attempting to, to - jeer at him, Marshall Commander!”

“We’re not jeering, we’re trying to create a safe space and lay the groundwork for more open communication”, Fox says, primly.

Maul screams into the ground, attempting for the umpteenth time to rear up and visit great violence upon Fox, which admittedly has him rattling in his crosslegged seat atop his back.

Kenobi raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Safe space?”

“He’s restrained and not stabbing anyone, I personally feel much safer than before”, Grids muses. “Watch the teeth though, Hound. Little biter.”

Indeed. Fox’s right greave will have to be replaced posthaste.

“And anyways, the point isn’t to jeer at him, it’s to make clear that he’s focusing his energy in the wrong places and could be doing much better things with his admittedly not-great life”, Fox adds, shifting to cast a pointed look down at Maul. The Sith is panting open-mouthed into the durasteel floor, sharp teeth gnashing wildly as his piercing yellow eyes shine with barely restrained rage. “I’m just saying - aim higher. You aren’t seeing the forest for the Kenobis, Maul. Can I call you Maul?”

“I will feed you your own entrails”, yowls Maul.

“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Right now, I’m an easy target to focus all that built-up rage on, but is killing me really going to help you achieve any of your goals? No! Think about it - when it all comes down to it, who sent you on that mission to Naboo in the first place? Who made sure the Jedi and, by extension, Kenobi would be there to kill you? Who used you as a dejarik piece and then cast you aside the second you outlived your usefulness?”

Beneath him, Maul slowly stills in his struggle, still panting heavily. Hound and Nuisance don’t let it deter them in their vigilance, because they’re damn good vod’e and possess an ounce of common sense.

“And, look, I get it. I could spend the rest of my life punching every civilian who spits on me in the streets and it would even be satisfying. I could hit back the Senators who think of clones as easy targets. Or - I can aim my sights at who’s on top. And I think you know who I mean, because you know as well as I do the same damn man has ruined both our lives.”

Kenobi makes an alarmed noise, and Maul an interested one - not that Fox is going to let him walk out of this place awake. Still, he tilts his head in a way he hopes conveys his helmeted grin successfully to non-vod, as well as the bloodlust behind it. “You’re also welcome for the fact that the Chancellor won’t have heard of your spontaneous resurrection yet, by the way. You’ll retain your element of surprise instead of gambling it away on petty revenge on Kenobi.”

“He cut me in half!”

“He killed my master!”

Fox waves their protests away.

“Also, that’s treason!”, Kenobi adds, sputtering. Fox grins. Kenobi purses his lips, and continues. petulantly, “…do you have any proof?”

“So. Much. Proof”, says Nuisance, dreamily. “Like, do you want it alphabetically or by date?”

Which is when the Duchess, of all people, bursts out into barking, crazed laughter.

“You - you’ve certainly given yourself an edge in that fight, Marshall Commander”, she wheezes, brushing tears from her eyes. Fox raises his eyebrows at her, which she somehow seems to be able to tell, because she gestures at the clunky handle dangling from his belt.

“What, this old thing?” He unclasps the black rectangle from its hook, holding it up in the air. Maul stills strangely beneath him, and Kenobi goes ghostly pale again. Fox is starting to get a bad feeling.

“I took it off Viszla and beat him over the head with it. I figured he’d taken it off a Jedi cadet or something. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

[azvhaalk]

☀︎ sun and moon ☾

[angeart]

hhau rescue rambles - part III

>> part I here // part II here // hhau masterpost here <<

3,3k words. cw for this one - violence, injuries, maybe mild gore?

-- The hunters come, drawn by the loud noises of panic Grian was making, unerringly making their way towards them. They yell and holler at each other and cheer, feeling triumph from cornering their prey. It’s going to be them who get the wanted poster reward money. Them who will get their hands on those rare, special, bright feathers. 

They do not hesitate to approach and attack.

Scar is tightly holding onto Grian, unwilling to let go. He’s going to protect him with everything he has, and if right now that’s just his body? If it means being a shield? He’ll do it.

He’s in his vex form, which allows the wounds to heal, but they still hurt. It still feels desperate. It still feels like there’s a limit, and the enemies are approaching, cautious around the clearly feral vex. 

Scar’s going to have to let go of Grian if they have any chance to fight them off here.

He pleads and begs, asking for Grian’s attention and trust, hoping for some coherency. Hoping, to all hells and back, that Grian can do this last thing. That he won’t run, that he won’t give up, that he won’t give himself over in some misguided attempt to protect Scar. (There’s no protecting Scar here. He’s on that wanted poster as well, after all. He’s already caught in this skirmish.)

There’s only one thing for them to do.

Fight.

So he looks at Grian, trying to anchor his panicked gaze, and begs him to fight with him. 

Please, fight with me. Please, Grian. It can be the last time.

And Grian nods. He rubs the tears out of his eyes. There’s nothing else to do here. He’s going to stand by Scar’s side and do his part in their survival, like always. Even if it might be the last time. (Grian definitely thinks the last time means something else here, but he’s willing to take as many hunters down with them as possible.) (He also thinks this just proves his point that he’s a beacon and he’ll draw danger to Scar, constantly, always, until they die.)

They slip into something learned, feral and fierce. A flash of steel and claws, blue magic and violet feathers. The panic and exhaustion take second place, pushed away entirely by a haze of a fight, blood gathering on their hands as they cover each other’s back.

It’s violent. It’s vicious.

This is how the hermit rescue party finds them. 

They’ve never seen Grian and Scar like this. They’ve never seen a scene quite like this one. But the fight is far from over, and more hunters are coming, and— The hermits don’t really get time to process what they’re seeing—what any of it means, a reflection of a year of horrors—they simply rush in to help.

Scar is relieved to see them. They can now see that Grian is alive! (And they can help keep it that way!) And Grian can see that there really is hope!

Except Grian isn’t really processing that this is their friends. His mind is completely haywire, adrenaline loud in his ears. This makes no sense to him, and he doesn’t have the space to stop and pause and take it in. It’s staticky and numb and far away, nonsensical to his frightened heart. The coherency evades him. 

There’s nothing here for Grian but blood and death and Scar Scar Scar Scar.

He barely dodges an arrow aimed at him and pounces at a hunter who was approaching Scar from the side. There’s no hesitation in his motions. No pause or remorse about fighting to death on a permadeath server. About killing, ruthlessly and brutally. It’s long since past the time when thoughts like that felt like they hold any weight.

The hermits quickly assess that this isn’t going to go well. The fight won’t easily be turned in their favour if they’re overwhelmed by numbers. They need to go. Now.

They don’t get to tell their plan to Scar and Grian. There’s no time. There’s no real way to explain anything in this chaos of a fight. They simply act.

It’s Cub who manages to get close enough to vex-mode Scar, snapping a bracelet on his wrist.

Scar barely registers that there’s something against his skin before he feels a sharp yank as he’s teleported away, without warning or consent. 

Disorientedly, he finds himself on a ship, the surroundings quiet where before everything was loud. Cub is there with him, and so is Doc and Ren and Impulse. Xisuma hurries into the room, eyes wide, asking if Scar’s okay.

Scar isn’t okay, because he is here and Grian isn’t.

Scar isn’t okay, because Grian was ready to give up and sacrifice himself before Scar found him, and now he's alone again.

Scar isn’t okay, because Grian is terrified and Scar isn’t there to help. He isn’t there to keep him grounded. He isn’t there to keep him alive through this. He—

 It doesn’t matter that Cub promises they’re coming. So very sure the others will join them very soon. Any second, really! Aaaaany second.

Scar’s going ballistic on the ship. Gone full vex brain, and they can’t snap him out of it. Doc tries to restrain him with his bionic arm, since it can resist Scar’s claws. (Scar does not like seeing a creeper right now, either. He’s not thinking straight.) Scar’s hair is still white, eyes shining blue, vex magic rampant in his veins as feral panic floods him, leaving him thrashing and yelling at them, demanding to see Grian. (They took him away, he can’t be taken away, no nononono—)

Cub keeps repeating they’re coming. They’re coming.

Scar keeps trying to fight back, get free, get them to listen to him. Insisting, urgent and panicky: Send me back send me back send me back.

A minute passes, then another.

The others aren’t showing up.

Scar’s agitation only grows. He told them. He told them that Grian needs him! They aren’t listening to him. Nobody is listening.

Impulse tells him to trust them.

Scar shouts back that he doesn’t trust anybody.

It’s bewildering and startling and wild. On top of that, Cub is freaking out, because Scar’s still in his vex form, and Cub knows all too well that it’s actively dangerous to Scar to keep holding onto that much vex magic at once for too long. That Scar needs to stop.

Scar won’t stop. Not until Grian is safe.

--

Grian isn’t safe.

The fight is messy and the hermits showed up in the middle of it and Grian isn’t processing any of it. He just knows someone’s trying to grab him, and then Scar is gone, and Grian’s left in an even worse state, everything a cacophony of danger and panic. 

Amidst the chaos of the fight, he does what he knows best: he avoids being touched. He avoids capture, which is what his brain perceives as the hermit rescue party trying to do. They need to get close to him, within touching distance, and put the bracelet on him, and— He isn’t letting them. He isn’t letting anyone near him. (Anyone but Scar.) (But Scar isn’t here anymore.)

Alarms blare through Grian’s head at the loss of Scar—his only source of safety irreparably gone in a way he can’t comprehend—hurtling him deeper into confusion and despair. Everything’s a blur of blood and adrenaline, and he’s terrified.

But Scar asked him to fight, one last time. So Grian does.

--

Scar, too, fights. 

He fights to get free, to get sent back to Grian, somehow, he doesn’t care how just send him back. He’s distressed in a way they’ve never seen, and the more time passes without the rest of the rescue party coming back, the more grim it all becomes. 

Doc is still on Scar-restraining duty. Impulse and Ren are trying to help but are lowkey pressing themselves against the walls, trying to avoid the lash out. Cub’s still trying to get to Scar, urging him to calm down before the vex magic burns him out completely (and literally). Xisuma is anxiously counting every second that the rest of the rescue crew isn’t coming, trying to process the severity of the implications without having all the informations to do so. 

And then, finally, Pearl comes through.

Only Pearl. 

She’s dazed. She’s bleeding.

Scar doesn’t care. He tries to tackle her and demand answers, Doc’s hold slipping, managing to reel him back just in time. 

Everyone’s now on high alert. They don’t know what’s going on down there and they also need to take care of Pearl’s injuries. 

Turns out, Gem triggered Pearl’s teleport to get her out of there when she got severely injured. It’s now only Grian and Gem against a whole bunch of hunters in a world that doesn’t play nice. 

Scar swivels, yanking himself free of Doc’s hold. He grabs Xisuma. “Send me back.”

Pearl’s pleading the same now. She was so close to Grian! She doesn’t know what’s going to happen now that she isn’t there. Now that she doesn’t have a chance to reach him anymore. There was so much blood everywhere. Her injuries throb in a way she’s never felt, dread thick on her tongue like blood. 

She can’t bear the possibility of this going wrong. 

Nobody can.

Impulse snaps to action (as the Unhurt Sane Person™). “Alright, that’s it. I’m going in.”

X, worried for Gem and Grian, lets him.

Which makes Scar more feral, because he also wants to go, and now he knows Xisuma is capable of sending him back. He starts straight up threatening them all, tries to snatch at the controls himself, tries to grab Xisuma by the throat, all the bad things. He yells at them that Grian’s going to die. Can’t they understand??? His words are jumbled and desperate and hard to comprehend, but he needs them to understand. He needs to go back.

His claws are still smeared by blood of the hunters. He’s still in vex form, hair white and eyes blue, fangs sharp. Breath hitching, tears dripping down his chin, heart beating wildly in his chest. He needs to go they need to let him they have to. Grian’s going to die.

Cub decides he has to make compromises. He says they have to send Scar back in. (Scar isn’t going to let go of his vex form here like this.) He makes the call to trust Scar despite all the damage he’s causing here. He approaches him, even though Scar is scary and has been lashing out, grabs his hand and presses a bracelet into it.

He tells Scar, “Save him.”

--

The second Scar spawns back down, he is welcomed by Grian’s visceral scream of pain.

His first instant thought is a harrowing not again, vividly remembering how he found Grian that very first time in this world. How close to death that ended up. How awful it was. 

He wanted to never hear that kind of sound again. And yet he keeps hearing them. Screams of pain he’ll never be able to forget.

The scene that greets him is dismal. 

Grian’s on the ground, his wing tangled into a trap that keeps dragging and ripping at it. There’s a lot of hunters trying to approach the trap—they want to kill Grian so he’d stop thrashing and tearing his wing apart, because they don’t want their precious money-making wings destroyed. Gem and Impulse are slightly off to the side, getting overwhelmed as they’re desperately trying to keep the hunters on them and away from Grian.  

It’s a blur. Scar rushes through the hunters, drawing blood as he goes, mindless and with only a singular goal in mind: get to Grian. He doesn’t care if he’s getting stabbed or sliced in the process. (It’ll heal. It’ll heal. Grian might not.) A growl rips from him, low and deep and feral. A handful of hunters startles away from Grian, stumbling out of the mad vex’s path, but it doesn’t save them from their fate.

Scar’s claws are drenched in scarlet, leaving behind an absolute carnage by the time he collapses to his knees by Grian’s side, unable to relax until he can gather Grian in his bloodied arms. 

Impulse and Gem keep fending off hunters, but they also watch this scene unfold in stolen, fragmented little moments, keeping an eye on the two of them. And it’s destabilising to witness, for very different reasons than everything else that’s happened so far.

Because it’s only when Scar has a hold on Grian does some of the white bleed out of his hair, his hands softening from claws into blunt nails and harmless fingertips. 

Because where there were only growls and snarls and seemingly no control, there’s suddenly gentleness and soft murmured words.

Because Scar kisses Grian’s hair as he soothes him, and Grian finally grows quieter and calmer, even though he’s still shivering and sobbing and clearly in immense pain.

Because Grian lets Scar put that bracelet on him so easily, so willingly, clutching onto him, Scar’s name on a desperate, hoarse, endless loop on Grian’s lips. 

It all suddenly makes a lot more sense. (They messed up taking Scar away.)

--

They all get teleported out of there, this time Grian included. 

It isn’t pretty. The trap that tears at his wing and leaves him hopelessly ground-bound is so firmly attached to him that it gets teleported with him, its sharp edges buried deep into the flesh of Grian’s wing.

He keeps freaking out whenever someone tries to approach, making it impossible for them to help.

It’d be best if Peal could come and take a look. She’s a moth hybrid, not an avian, but she still knows more about wings than any of them. (She should know a lot about Grian’s wings, their relationship once almost sibling-like, but she looks at the tangled, bloodied mess that Grian is, flinching away from her, and she is terrified, finding no traces of that bond in Grian’s frightened gaze.)

 Scar keeps holding onto Grian, blindly eager to keep everyone away as well, attuned to Grian’s panic. But his worry wins over, his adrenaline-muddied mind unable to figure out the trap without assistance.

So he eventually allows Pearl to approach.

Grian has different ideas. He’s having none of this. He doesn’t want anyone near his wings.

Determined and not seeing much of a choice here, Pearl crouches as close as Grian allows. Scar’s blocking Grian’s view, trying to redirect his attention and keep him calm through the waves of frantic, leftover but still very real panic. (He’s using his wings to block the view.) (Cub cringes at the state of them. They all do, actually, momentarily stunned but determining that this isn’t the time to ask.) 

Pearl is just close enough to inspect the tangle, and just far enough for it all to be out of reach.

It’s hard to see, through the blood and the feathers and various other bits that she really doesn’t want to think too much about.

Trying to take control over her trembling voice, she does her best to navigate Scar through it. It would’ve been so much simpler if she could do it herself—it’d probably avoid some mistakes and more damage, and it’d be faster. (Verbal navigation with frenzy-muddled thinking is difficult.)

But Grian can’t can’t can’t

Scar’s hands tremble almost the entire time. He’s still on an adrenaline rush. He’s exhausted from his magic usage—even having his wings out is a struggle.

At one point, Pearl tries to lay a soothing hand on Scar and he jumps.

And it just really settles then—that, wow, they’re both really messed up, aren’t they?

--

Scar ends up being the one to bargain with hermits. Bargaining is a strong word, it’s more of a list of demands, really. Safety lines, kind of. Grian’s still not processing quite right that this is happening—it’s a numb, almost dissociative feeling; he knows these are his friends, but he doesn’t understand how this is real, and his feelings are nonsensical and haywire. He feels very far from normal. (He doesn’t remember what normal is.) He doesn’t want anyone near.

They’re given lots of potions in lieu of a more proper medical examination, and a private shared room. Scar’s always the one to answer the door, on guard, tense even as he slips on an easygoing smile most of the times. 

They’re given new comms, which they tuck away and promptly forget about, completely unused to such a thing. 

Once things settle a bit, all the startling differences come into focus. Cub points out that Scar’s got new scars, and everyone notices his stark white streak in his hair. (Not to mention his tattered wings.) On top of that, Grian is scarred now too. And they hold themselves differently, twitching and flinching, curled up and quiet. Guarded and unapproachable. 

Everything feels horribly precarious. The hermit crew skirts the topic of what that world was like, what happened to them, never quite managing to ask in any meaningful way, even as the questions burn on their tongue. 

They’re not going to get any answers. Not now. Not for a long time.

Nothing but hints and flashes of fear in eyes and marks written deeply into skin, to stay forever, carry across respawns (which will now be a real possibility again, but it’s a concept Scar and Grian don’t know how to grasp anymore.)

The rescue crew sends a message home, to warn the others. Telling them to be careful and maybe not approach too fast. It’s vague, devoid of details. They themselves don’t really understand the triggers, after all, feeling confused. The journey home isn’t long enough for any of it to properly settle, a mere two days worth of travel until they’re within reach of Hermitcraft.

So of course the messages don’t make much sense to anyone waiting home on Hermitcraft. Everyone’s simply hyped and excited that this’s been a success, that Scar and Grian are going home!

They organise a welcome party.

It doesn’t go well.

Grian and Scar spawn in, not expecting to be instantly surrounded by people friends. It’s chaotic and loud, everyone cheerful and celebratory, ready to throw themselves at the two of them—

Except Grian’s backing away now, lowkey having a panic attack, and Scar’s protectively standing in front of him, shielding him, used to block the view of Grian’s wings on sheer instinct. Everything’s too much all at once, an onslaught of noises and people crossing lines before either of them are ready for it, and—

Well, Grian runs.

Scar, who has a slightly more solid understanding of how they’re meant to be safe now, falters. (His emotions aren’t settled at all, but he can somewhat rationalise it to himself.) (Grian can’t grasp it just yet at all.) He mumbles an anxious and slightly startled “Sorry— This— No.” Before he bolts after Grian.

The rescue crew sighs, telling the others they shouldn’t have done this. The welcome party was a bad idea. But nobody really understands. They can see now that, clearly, it was a bad idea, but they’re left reeling, trying to catch up to it. (Scar’s white streak. Grian’s scars. The panic in their eyes. Scar’s protectiveness. Grian’s fear.)

They’ve been looking forward to this reunion. They’ve spent weeks, months, feeling despair and hopelessness, an empty space left on the server where two beloved, pesky members of their family should be. And now they’re left standing here, in the wake of what should’ve been a happy occasion, all kinds of confused and concerned and confused.

Everything is far from ideal. 

They’re going to take a breath, have an (unproductive) meeting about this, and do their best to figure out what to do about this situation.

Grian and Scar, in the meanwhile, are going to dig a hidden bunker. (The others had a house prepared for them, near the shopping district, lively and easy to visit.) (They didn’t even get to tell them.) 

Well.

This is going to take some time.

But they’re home now. They’re home, and one day, that revelation is going to properly sink in.

Until then, they have each other. (And everyone else, waiting and ready for them. <3)

[melodyatlas]

brujay on my mind tonight,,,,, just, the way jason is so fixated on bruce, the way bruce tries and fails to actually let go of jason, always holding on even when he says he's a lost cause

the way they can't stop the anger between them but it doesn't mean the love has gone, because it hasn't, it won't, it will never fade, but the anger won't either because they can't fucking talk to each other. and even if they could? it wouldn't work. they're too different now, too set in their own ways to even think about trying to change for the other

so it's hard and violent when they come together, always arguing, fighting. they don't want to admit it escalates to physical fights just because they need to touch each other, need to remind themselves that jason is there, that he's still alive and that they are truly together again even though they can never really be anything other than at odds with one another

[nadekofannumber1]

I’m pretty convinced the way they’re gonna break up the episodes for next season is that they’re gonna sprinkle the rest of the waza episodes around for the sake of keeping up the feeling of an ongoing narrative abt Shinobu and deathtopia via consistant character appearance to have the feeling of buildup maintained. In the sense that yoimono has decent amount of Shinobu appearance but Amari and ougimono have less and if they wanted to engage in the flow of Shinobu posting to be constant for the build to shinomono in the way Nadeko’s appearances would be, they’d probably put them around there for the sake of hype.

However that is subject to change depending on how they do musubi which I can see them do a direct run through, sprinkling it next shinomono, putting individual episodes next to the 3 arcs b4 shinomono specifically to max them out for the vibe (most evil option) or doing an ova.

I think that for the rest of oraka putting sodachi fiasco as an opener to the next season and putting suruga bonehead some point after but before ougimono (I’d say that between yoi and Amari is likely bc of digestion time but also the fact we don’t have that second resolution and if you put it directly next to ougimono its gonna feel like they’re hyping towards a plot that isn’t actually gonna be resolved soon but doing that is nisio core so I’d accept it. But realistically because of the overarching Gaen izuko subplot that comes to a head by shinomono it makes sense to perform that same build up as a parallel. Really I think the best time to look at those arcs is in novel order but we can’t do that now, big signs that say look at Gaen plot will probably be successionally happening bc of this. So I think getting it in early has its merits esp if they’re going with buildup)

[maybemeursault]

look okay it's bad to erase marvin's canonical sexuality and the fact that She Likes Men but i literally genuinely with all my heart think that she is a trans woman

[hecksupremechips]

My ass was trying so hard not to jump up and down with glee playing yttd with my sister and getting to the shin reveal I was like MY GUY MY FUNNY LAD MY SILLY RABBIT

[redxriiot]

Thinking abt Heroes Rising again, and how that Chimera fight was absolute PEAK

[candycryptids]

Sometimes you just have to make up another funky guy to be insane about. For your health.

[butdotheykiss]

im sorry, but was the kiss in a boss and a babe like bad buddy lvl wow? no. but is it on a constant loop in my mind cause Reasons? yes.

[crossbackpoke-check]

do u ever speak too soon & immediately regret it.

[mer-se]

Prima facie round two. 5/17 🎭🤍

[speculor]

Stone statues of drow... a blatant and clear warning to steer clear and yet...

Ist'afein feels off. A pull at their mind, not the tadpole, but something else urging them further down. Ignoring any protests from their companions, they sneak down past another 'statue', then past a group of them... the feeling only getting stronger as they do so.

Pausing in the middle, they stand up, intending to further inspect one of the drow who was holding something.

Out of the corner of their eye, they see something large float up and they jump back in alarm, face to face with a massive eye first and foremost.

The creature gives them an almost appraising look, as though trying to figure them out.

Ist's own pupils seem to widen, almost like a cats who's spotted it's prey, a look of uncharacteristic anger crossing their face.

A Spectator, a lesser being, a pathetic, weak pretender---

Ist blinks, unclenching their jaw that they hadn't realized they had been clenching. They felt pure rage bubble under their skin, thoughts they didn't feel should belong to them rushing through their mind.

As the rest of the party catches up, the Spectator seems to find that the feeling is very much mutual, it's eye fixed on Ist'aufein as it screeches and aims one of it's appendages straight at them.

[screampied]

#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.”

[fushiguho]

You Have a New Match ☆ Toji Fushiguro

☆ SYNOPSIS After several, agonizing weeks of your relentless torment, Toji has finally had it with your teasing antics. As ambiguous as dating apps can be, he wants to ensure that his intentions are very clear — he’s only here for one thing, to fuck. So why are you wasting his time? What are you, scared? ☆ WORD COUNT 6.6k (holy fuck) ☆ CONTENT WARNINGS Dilf!Toji, femme reader, rough-ish sex, kinda feral, strangers to lovers, Toji has a FILTHY mouth ☆ A/N okay guys so this is actually kind of insane and i do apologize for my absence to those who care LOL (boooo school and life.) but this was actually an anon request for dilf toji but i thought i’d take it in different direction?? this is honestly a personal best for me so i really hope whoever is reading this feels something :p also, thank u for 1k follows. means the world! :)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

Toji swears, it’s always the same song and dance with you younger women, yet time and time again he’ll find himself  enwrapped in a meaningless dalliance. Currently, that’s you, and you’ve been driving him up a fucking wall. For weeks, you’ll sweet talk him, go on and on about how deep you can take it, how wet your pretty pussy gets just from texting him, even how nasty you’ll get for him when you see him, but it’s always when. That’s the very thing, you’re all talk.

They say patience is a virtue, yet his runs thinner than cheap thread. Toji has never been known for bullshit, and after becoming a father, that fact has never been truer. For most, bringing children into this godforsaken world serves as means for betterment — change, but Toji isn’t like most. Oh, and he’s tried to be respectful about it too, but how can you ever expect him to be a gentleman when you act like… that.

Ever since you matched on Tinder, it’s been several, agonizing months of slutty messages and lewd pictures. God, and what a filthy mouth you have, detailing all the sick ways you’d let him use you, how you’d take it all like a good, obedient slut, how you’d do anything he wants. Yet, when he video calls you in response, huffing your name as the monstrous length of his cock glides through his slick fingers, you realize that maybe you’re not as grown as you thought.

So, you pull away, ghosting him, leaving behind nothing but the silence of uncertainty — purgatory. Whenever you inevitably decide to message him again, whether it be days or weeks later, it’s the same bullshit excuse every time, and quite frankly, Toji has had it. Of course you read his profile when you matched. He made his intentions very clear — that he’s only here for one thing, so why are you wasting his time? What are you, scared?

Toji F.

05:39 PM You scared? Is that it? 05:42 PM Scared of what this cock will do to you? What it could turn you into? Is that why you keep disappearing on me? 05:42 PM You’re breaking my heart here, girl.

Read at 5:43 PM

The audacity. Taken aback is an understatement, yet his message makes your stomach sink in arousal. You can hardly help the dramatic roll of your eyes, an incredulous scoff following as you stuff your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. As you trudge toward your last class of the day, his messages linger on your mind, igniting a flame of refutation that begs to be doused, because you? Scared? Please.

Boredom is a strange thing. It tends to bring out the worst, turning people into versions of themselves they weren’t sure could ever exist within the same universe — versions of themselves that defy the being they’ve worked tirelessly to become. But when there’s nothing left to do, nowhere else to turn, and everything else has been exhausted, we result to desperation; desperate times call for desperate measures.

Tinder.

If university has taught you anything, it’s that men don’t mature overnight… or ever. Even being four, entire years into your overpriced degree, it’s evident that maturity doesn’t exist within the minds of frat hopping, beer chugging, striped polo wearing college boys. You crave more. You crave experience and wisdom, but at the end of the day, you’re still just bored and in desperate need of something that’ll abide your time in university — Toji Fushiguro.

So really, is there truly anything wrong with downloading a dating app with the sole intention of fucking? Is it so wrong to toggle your age preference a little too high? Your preferred mile radius a little too far? You’re not sure, not really. All you know is that there is a point to be proven and a void to be filled, and maybe Toji isn’t the answer you should be seeking, but he damn sure is the easiest and most willing recourse.

That’s the exact reason you’re finally messaging him back, inviting him over to your apartment to chill. It’s nearly embarrassing how fast he responds. An obscure, upside down, smiling emoji at the end of his text masks his ever-growing anticipation with cordiality, though it’s a stark contrast to the way he’ll have you pried apart later on, fucking you rudely with the sole intention gutting you out completely, but you’ll find out soon enough. Curiosity kills cats anyways.

As the day grows on, your excitement grows beyond you. The rapid tap of your anxious feet strike against the tiled floor of the lecture hall, reverberating throughout the frigid, drab room. An exasperated sigh drags from your pouting lips, chin resting within the palm of your hand. Back and forth your eyes flit from the digital clock abut the wall to your monotone professor who paces through the aisles, blathering on about environmental law.

You can hardly help the way you’re beginning to eagerly gather your belongings, slinging your backpack over one shoulder before discretely slipping out of the room, scurrying home with a girlish grin long before class is said and done. Immediately, you’re fishing for your phone, informing Toji that you’re finally free and again, his response is embarrassingly quick. He’s on his way.

It feels like an eternity and you’re impatient. Your stomach lurches in excitement as you sit cross legged on the couch. The large television before you hums monotonously, a show you’ve never cared for flitting across the crystal display, but then, there’s a knock — three, hard, heavy-handed knocks. Your feet are moving faster than your brain can register, nearly tripping over your own feet on your way to the door. As you’re reaching for the knob, it feels like you can’t breathe — like you forgot how to breathe, but that doesn’t stop the hand that’s slowly creaking the heavy, wooden door open just enough to peek your head out and then up, up, up.

“Oh.” You breathe, huffing a breath you weren’t aware you held, your curious gaze shamelessly devouring the burly, heavy-set figure that fills your doorway. “Hi, Toji.” The door creeps wider as you step aside, granting him access into your home.

“Hi, pretty.” His gruff, baritone voice reverberates throughout your entire being, sending a cruel, unintentional rush of heat between your clamped thighs. A mischievous smile pries his scarred lips open, his sharp, sable eyes curiously falling to the cleavage that spills from your low-cut top.

Toji straggles behind as you pad through the archway leading to your small kitchen. He slips out of his shoes, wordlessly admiring your girlishly ornamented apartment, cock nearly throbbing from the overwhelming scent of you — so cloying and honeyed and edible. God, he’d only be lying if he said he hasn’t imagine what you’d taste like, fucking his fist like feral caveman to the pretty pictures on your Tinder profile.

“Uh, you hungry?” You observe your barren fridge, lips twisting in thought. “I have leftovers from last night.” You peer over your shoulder, watching as he observes your carefully thought out space.

He shakes his head in response, a slow, crooked smirk playing his slick lips. Slowly, he’s leaning back, legs crossing idly in front of him as his large hands reach backwards to prop himself against the cold, marble island that sits in the middle of the kitchen. He eyes you silently, watching intently as you stumble throughout your kitchen, fixing him a complimentary glass of iced water. You can hardly meet his intense gaze as you present him with the tall, overfilled glass, far too nervous to truly observe the way he practically devours you with his prey-like stare.

“What?” You finally croak, a nervous laugh tumbling past your lips. You’re stepping away to crane your head back, reluctantly registering the overwhelming sight before you.

Toji shrugs wordlessly before taking a long, ponderous sip from his condensating glass. He swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing before humming melodically, pondering in thought. His seemingly cruel gaze never leaves yours, even as you’re slowly backing away to lean against the opposing counter, subconsciously mirroring his stance as you prop yourself on the palms of your hands.

“You nervous or somethin’?” Toji smiles wide, cocking his head to the right. An intense set of dark eyes pierce yours, reading directly through your timid expression. Contrary to your fidgeting fingers, you shake your head in refutation as you peer down at your feet in a desperate attempt to avoid his relentless gaze.

Liar.

“No? Why are you so far then?” He observes, taking another sip from his dwindling glass before setting it against the marble. You hardly notice the way he shuffles closer, slyly inching toward your side of the kitchen. “After all that shit you talked, I was sure you’d be all over me… what changed, pretty?” Now, he stands hair's breadth away, looking down on you as if you’re prey to be devoured.

“Nothing.” You mutter, still averting your gaze. It’s hardly a whisper.

The slow, subconscious clamp of your thighs as you fruitlessly attempt to dull the throb of your poor, aching pussy doesn’t go unnoticed. In fact, a burly knee is subtly creeping between your legs, deliberately forcing them back apart. There’s nowhere to run — nowhere to cower and writhe in fear or embarrassment; he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

You’re completely caged in, stretching to the tips of your toes in escape, but oh, sweet gravity — it’s pulling you down, down, down, driving your clothed cunt against the stiff muscles of his thigh. You gasp, hardly able to chase the breaths that tumble past your lips. Still, you can’t bear the thought of facing him, not after all that shit you talked, not even as you grind yourself against his thigh.

Toji pouts feignedly. “C’monnn, you won’t even look at me?” A large hand is cupping your chin, gingerly forcing your gaze onto his. “This can’t be the same girl who promised she’d let me slut her out… right?” His warm breath fans your parted lips, a fat thumb blindly grazing the lower half of your face. “No, you can’t possibly be the same girl who sent me a video of her noisy, little pussy cryin’ fa’me either… right?”

You’ve never felt so… small. The way your stomach sinks in arousal nearly forces a helpless whine past your lips. It almost feels like you’re in trouble, like you’ve done something horribly wrong and now, you await your inescapable punishment, yet your core aches at the very thought — it burns with an inextinguishable desire to be filled, to be punished.

As a father, Toji can’t help but to default back to his intrinsic lust for control, to assume authority. So really, can you blame him when he’s wordlessly pulling you up the counter you lean against? Two, strong hands finding purchase on your hips, yanking you closer to the edge of the frigid marble. He definitely doesn’t miss the way your legs practically fall open for him, naturally spreading to accommodate the girth of his hips as he creeps closer.

A slow and beautifully sinful grin is marring his face. “Are you a woman of your word?” It’s a low, gravelly hum, one that has you nodding desperately, lips parting sweetly. His head cocks to the right in query. “Yeah? So you’re gonna let me slut that pretty pussy out like you promised, hm?” A singular hand pushing your thighs further apart so that he can insert himself between them to which you audibly moan, nodding once again.

“I am a woman of my word,” you breathe, falling back to catch yourself on your hands as a newfound sense of confidence brews within you, “I meant it, you can have me however you want… please.”

“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” He subtly warns, slipping a large, intentional hand between your searing bodies. “Can you handle that?” Several, warm fingers are trailing against the fabric that hugs your cunt, eliciting a beautiful string of wanton moans from your pretty, parted lips — moans that make his cock twitch to life, eager to ruin you.

“Mhmmm, yes… yes,” you’re nodding, gasping out for more, head rolling deliriously from side to side as his fingers press firmly against your clothed cunt, “I can take anything, I swear! I’ll be s-so good.”

The subconscious roll of your body against the stocky hand that cups your pussy is pathetic; it’s dragging endless hums of pleasure and little gasps of air from your stupidly gaped mouth. You’re insatiable as you buck your hips, desperate to get more out of his teasing fingers, yet still, it isn’t enough. So truly, can Toji blame you for the way you’re beaming forward to catch his lips in a sloppy, haphazard kiss?

No, he can’t, because the way he kisses you back is nothing short of animalistic. It’s the way your teeth nearly clash; the way his fingers are threading through the hair at the back of your head, tugging you back to hold you still, kissing you exactly how he wants; even the way he’s huffing out hot, raptured breaths against your lips as if he can’t breathe, as if you’re the last, fleeting breath of air, nursing him back to life.

Your hands are everywhere. They’re wrapping around his slutty waist, pulling him closer; creeping up the hem of his shirt, into the waistband of his sweatpants, and over the unmistakable bulge of his warm cock again, and again, and again. It throbs against the palm of your hand, wordlessly begging to be heard, to be seen, to be touched.

“Take it out.” He breathes, stepping away just far enough for you to untie the drawstring. In a fruitless attempt to hide your grin of excitement, you bite your lip, wholeheartedly obliging as you fiddle to undo the tightly knotted bow that hides his most sacred possession. “Yeaaaah, take that cock out, sweetheart. Look at you… you’re excited for it, huh?”  He laughs at your fervid eagerness — a sharp gust of air through his nose.

As you’re tugging down both waistbands, a deep, guttural groan of relief is belting from the depths of his chest; he inhales a sharp breath through gritted teeth. His cock springs free, bouncing to kiss his lower abdomen in a smeared mess of arousal. Your mouth gapes as rivulets of precum spill down the length of his cock, lewdly pooling near his fat, swollen balls.

God, it’s pretty. It stands so proud and tall, longing to be seen — to be known. It literally weeps tears of desperation, begging for something, anything. How long has it been? Is he just as deprived? Your head burns with questions that yearn to be answered, but you’re determined.

Out of intrinsic instinct, you’re wrapping a hand around the base of his cock as if it’d explode if not dealt with immediately. Never in your life have you held something so… heavy. It’s warm and dense and wet. God, why is he so wet? Why is his precum slobbering down your fingers as you begin to pump him in your hand? Why does such a cruel, deafening schlop! ring out each time you drag your fist toward the leaking head? Why is it making you wet?

As if he can read your mind, Toji coos. “You like it, huh?” He’s amused, a smug grin plaguing his face. “You hungry, pretty? You wanna taste it?” Even the subtle lilt of enthusiasm that soothes his teasing tone makes your mouth sag in a whimper so you nod, of course. “You’ll just say yes to anything, won’t you?”

Duh.

Again, you nod dumbly before eagerly slipping off of the counter and falling to your knees with a thud! Like the good girl you promised you are, you’re lolling out your tongue to drool onto the tip of his cock without hesitation. A longgg, throaty moan drags from Toji’s gaped mouth when you gently tap the drooling head against the plush center of your tongue.

“Fuuuck yes, sweetheart. I knew just from your pictures that you’d be a nasty girl,” his hips are intentionally bucking toward your face, rudely forcing his cock deeper, “and you’re so obedient too… fell to your knees for my cock and you hardly know me.”

A cruel, wet gurgle spills from your mouth as you attempt to swallow around him. He fills your mouth perfectly, like the missing piece to a forgotten puzzle. You wail a muffled, helpless whine, jaw aching from the sheer weight of his cock as it rests against your eager tongue. His swollen balls throb painfully as he tucks himself deeper, forcing a proper gag from pretty lips.

The short, sable tufts of hair that adorn the thick base of his cock tickle your chin. A large hand holds your head taut, keeping you close as he presses the swollen fat of his balls against your trembling bottom lip. Your eyes well with tears as you gag again, throat tightening around the head of his cock when it prods your uvula. The achey, protruding vein that runs along the underside of his shaft throbs against your tongue as you gasp for air.

“Thaaaaat’s it. Hah — oh my god, are you drooling?” Two, deft fingers are swiping along your chin, collecting the saliva that dribbles down your face. “You are so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth… you gonna let me fuck it just a little?” The crooked smile that mars his face is sick, but it makes your stomach cave in arousal.

Toji doesn’t wait for a response as he’s reeling his hips back, two heavy hands steady on the back of your head, holding you in place. You gasp for a desperate breath before he pummels forward, tucking himself as deep as possible. He’s slow to pull out of your mouth, his thick cock leisurely grazing along every inch of your tongue. A timbre, wanton groan of pleasure drags from his slacked jaw.

“Suuuch a p— perfect throat for cock, holy fuck,” his hips are drawing back again, cock throbbing painfully when you cease the opportunity to gasp for air, “breeeathe, sweetheart… don’t you die on me. I’m not done with you yet, c’mere.” He’s abruptly yanking you to your feet, surely taking notice of the way your knees buckle beneath you.

He’s taking you by the wrist, leading you throughout your apartment as if it’s his own — as if he’s been here before. You follow him like a lost puppy, biting your inner cheek in anticipation as you trail behind him, warm arousal pooling between your thighs. It doesn’t take long for him to find your comfortable, eclectically garnished bedroom.

A large, curious hand is creaking the ajar door wider. He simpers to himself, inhaling the sweet, gourmand scent of everything you. Toji scoffs in what you can only hope astonishment as he peaks his head inside of the warm, dimly lit room. You follow his equivocal gaze, reimagining your sacred space from his fresh, much elder perspective.

“I wish my son would keep his room this neat,” he laughs and you follow him inside, watching as he curiously prowls your girlish room, "couldn't even pay him to wash his shit-stained boxers." A unique collection of trinkets entraps his gaze.

Son?

"Oh," you're taking a seat at the foot of your bed, wordlessly observing the grown, burly man that paces your carpeted room of light pink hues — a man who has to squat to even hear your sweet voice as you speak, "what's his name?"

Annoyed, Toji shakes his head, sucking his teeth. "Doesn't matter," he stalks closer, a subtle gleam of lust dancing across his gradually darkening irises, “I just wanna see how wet that pussy got from tasting my cock… you gonna show me, pretty?” The devilish, scarred smirk that pries his mouth open makes your sobbing pussy throb.

He kneels onto the edge of the mattress and you scoot further onto the bed; the soft, baby pink sheets ruffling as you eagerly peel your lounge shorts down your legs, kicking them to the floor. As you lie on your back, you rest on your forearms, bent legs falling open so sluttily for a man you hardly know. A dark, ever-growing patch of arousal soils your pretty, laced panties. The dim, twinkling lights that hang over your bed reveal such an embarrassingly wet mess — the sheer, drooling material that clings to your swollen lips for dear life, begging to be touched.

“Oh, fuck,” he audibly gasps, inching closer to the palpable heat that radiates between your legs, “yeeeeeah, show me that sloppy, little pussy, baby… holy fuck.” You can hear the sheer degree of arousal in his tone — the way he can’t help but to moan out his words; so overcome by his innate need to fuck that it exudes in the way he pronounces his vowels and consonants.

And then, he’s speechless, utterly enthralled by the several, glistening gossamers of arousal that stretch and snap erotically as you pull the damp fabric down your thighs. You’re obediently sprawled apart for him, pretty, slobbering cunt spread so sinfully for a mere stranger. His cock aches at the sight, jerking lewdly in tandem with the visible tightening of your leaking hole.

Three, longgg digits are dragging up the expanse of your cunt, collecting your prolific arousal. He’s smearing it between your swollen lips, across your quivering clit, then deep inside of your greedy pussy. Over and over and over again, his burly knuckles disappear into your endless slick, the pads of his fingers dragging so sinfully along your tensing walls.

“Such a pretty pussy… oh my god, listen to her,” his hoarse groan is so plainly conquered by his lust, he nearly moans as his jaw hangs in astonishment, sable brows furrowing deeply, “listen to how wet she is. Such a noisy girl, huh?”

And oh god, do you listen. A cruel, deafening squelch! cries from between your plush thighs each time his fingers disappear into your cunt. A familiar, palpable heat is creeping up your neck, spilling across your flustered face in a deep, crimson hue. Embarrassed by your bountiful arousal, your legs are flying shut, halting the hand that teases you. Almost immediately, Toji is wordlessly prying your thighs apart, pinning them to the sheets with a disapproving grunt.

Toji doesn’t miss the slack of your jaw or the sweet, little whimpers that fall so shamelessly from your raptured tongue. He can hardly help the way he’s subconsciously mimicking your expressions — his lips parting in tandem with yours, thick brows furrowing subtly, just as yours do, he’s even cooing in response to your pathetic whines and gasps of ever-growing pleasure.

Like a flower growing toward the warmth of the sun, you’re coiling into his touch, back arching up and off of the unkempt sheets. Your head deliriously falls back to press against the pillow. The repetitive batter of his thick, beckoning fingers is the only thing you can hear, feel, think. Your hips buck so nastily against the hand that paws at you, pretty little sighs and hums of pleasure dragging from your stupidly gaped mouth.

“I just know you wanna fuck, look at your back arch for my cock like that… such a hungry girl,” a big hand is creeping beneath the small of your back, helping you maintain that beautiful, fleeting arch and he inches closer, eyes narrowing so that he can read directly through your greedy expression, “yeah, look at that pretty face… you wanna fuck, huh?”

You can hardly nod before he’s whorishly pulling his cock out, a hiss of relief escaping his gritted teeth. Pearlescent beads of precum drool from the head as he stalks closer, a lazy, idle fist pumping his length. A singular hand is prying you open, burly fingers digging into the plush, underside of your thigh, rudely spreading you apart, and then, cries a lewd, deafening plap!

Not once, twice, but three fucking times, Toji spits into your quivering cunt; three, fat globs of saliva pool into one, sinful puddle, erotically dribbling down the expanse of your swollen lips, toward your endlessly drooling hole, then it creeps even lower, spilling between the slit of your ass, kissing the puckering hole that sits just below.

“Touch her,” he breathes, a hand reaches for yours, pulling it over the mess of slick that coats your pussy, “fuck my spit into your cunt so I can make you feel good, baby. Get her ready for me, c’mon,” he watches with a low, hooded eyes as you collect the mound of saliva on your clit, swirling the pads of your fingers around it before sinking them inside with a pretty gasp, “yeaaahhh, that’s a good girl, spread that slutty pussy open for me.”

As you spread yourself apart with your fingers, Toji is prodding his fat, mushroom head against your clit and it’s dragging the sweetest cries from your parted lips. He’s moving your fingers out of the way with his cock, smearing the precum that weeps endlessly, hips bucking ever so slightly to fuck against the slick that laminates your pretty pussy.

The pad of his thumb is guiding the head of his cock inside of you, a synchronous, drawn out moan echoing from your gaped mouths as he sinks deeper and deeper and deeper. The gradual widening of your eyes is drawing a dark, breathy chuckle from the pit of his sternum. You’re fighting the gnawing urge to run, to wriggle out of his grip and cower in fear, but you can’t fucking move.

“Oh, fuck, fuck… oh my god.” You feel helpless as you whimper, wanting so desperately to clamp your thighs shut, but Toji has you pressed apart on the sheets.

A longgg, slutty groan is falling from his slacked jaw as he reels his hips back, pupils dilating when he catches sight of the warm, glistening arousal that sheathes his cock. Never in his life has he felt something so… wet. Your syrupy, drooling lips stretch so wide for him, effortlessly swallowing each and everyone one of his languid, torturous thrusts.

Toji is so large, it nearly feels like there’s two of him. You feel him everywhere — he is everywhere. His fat, drooling cock is splitting you open while his calloused palms are pawing anywhere they can reach; they’re creeping up your pretty waist, pushing your shirt up, taking it off. His lips are parting, an unintentional gasp ensuing when your tits are spilling out for him.

Another big hand is reaching for your face, cupping your jaw as a warm, curious thumb grazes your bottom lip. Instinctively, your lips are parting, wordlessly inviting him into your sweet mouth. Obeying your silent needs, the salty digit is pushing past your parted lips to pry your jaw open. He can’t help the throaty moan that bellows from his lungs as you swallow around his finger, sucking so whorishly as your eyes threaten to cross.

He’s so entranced by the warmth of your mouth that he can’t help but to replace his thumb with his two middle fingers. The long, burly digits creep farther and farther down the length of your tongue, forcing a loud, helpless gag from your swollen lips. Your delirious eyes are welling with tears, brows furrowing deeply when your pussy throbs in response. A slow, devilish grin is marring his handsome face.

“Oh?” He gasps in near astonishment, taking notice of the undeniable pulse of your cunt. “You like my fingers in your mouth, don’t you?”

You nod, drool spilling from the corners of your lips. Never in your life have you been so aroused. It’s almost too much to bear, you can hardly think anymore. All you feel is him — his big hands that control you, his fingers that rest against your tongue, the heat his body radiates, even the repetitive strike of his full balls against the fat of your ass has you babbling nonsense.

Every deep, elongated thrust is pulling the nastiest sounds out of you, even the overwhelming pressure of the heavy thumb that’s pressed to your clit has you mewling in rapture. Your pretty pussy leaks like a broken faucet that begs to be mended — so sloppy and needy, poor legs spread achingly wide as he sinks into your slutty little hole over and over and over again like a madman on the brink of utter insanity.

“Were you thinkin’ about me in class, hm?” He’s abruptly jerking you closer, pulling your legs on either side of his waist. You nod dumbly, mouth falling open for your sweet, broken whimpers to escape. “Yeah, sweet girl? Were you thinkin’ about me comin’ over and stretching this perfect pussy out like this, huh?” A guttural groan tumbling past his lips when your hips buck weakly to meet his heavy thrusts. “Oh my god, baby, come here… you want more?” He’s nearly growling as he yanks you impossibly closer.

Two, strong hands are gripping at the thick of your hips, selfishly pulling you onto his cock, impaling you. He deftly drills himself into your pussy like a weightless fleshlight whose only purpose is to take cock. All of his noisy, ragged breaths come out in short huffs each time he bottoms out, fucking the literal breath out of himself. His bruising grip holds you still, long fingers splayed across your waist and hips as he continues to stuff you with the entirety of his fat cock.

The hypnotic rebound of your chest is killing him; they sit so perfectly and he’s feral. He’s leaning down to audibly inhale your sweet, gourmand perfume as it permeates throughout the sweltering air. His handsome face is tucked between your pretty breasts, greedy tongue darting past his lips to lick along the expanse of your chest. You’re panting out hums of pleasure, breath hitching discernibly when he begins to sink his teeth into the supple flesh.

“F— fuuuuckkk,” you’re deliriously wailing in rapture, hips rolling in tandem with his furious thrusts, “so good, so gooood… your cock feels s’fucking good. Hah—oh my god, Toji.” You’re slurring over yourself, truly intoxicated from the punishing buck of his hips.

His cock throbs at your drunken words, balls swelling painfully when you grasp for his shirt to ground yourself. Both of your mouths sag open, brows furrowing identically as you pant in loud, harmonious breaths. The wet, gut-wrenching smack! of skin against skin that reverberates throughout your bedroom is deafening, nothing else can be heard.

Your hips buck wildly, desperately fucking him back as sweet cries of his name spill from your tongue. His gaze is steady and unwavering, observing as you reach for anything you can — his face, his bulging biceps, the fabric of his shirt; but it’s when you reach for the small of his back, driving him impossibly deeper each time he bottoms out that makes the vein running along the underside of his cock throb painfully, his leaking head bullying your cervix over and over and over again.

“God, you tryna make me cum, huh?” He’s slipping out of you to hastily pull you on top of him, handling you just the way he needs. “Do it then, show me how you like to fuck, c’mon.” Two hands are gripping at the thick of your hips, encouraging you to use him.

With both hands, you reach for his chest, stabilizing yourself as you raise your hips. Warm palms are creeping up the fat of your thighs to soothe the discernible trembling of your aching muscles. He kneads the plush skin absentmindedly, mouth gaping incredulously when you slowly begin to sink down the length of his stiff cock, your pretty pussy slobbering all over him.

“Fuck me like a slut, c’mon,” it’s a low, demanding whisper as his hands are reaching forward to find purchase on your hips, subtly guiding your frantic movements, “show me how good, slutty girls are supposed to ride cock.” A nasty, crooked smirk plagues his face, crinkling the corners of his beautifully aged, darkened eyes.

Your mouth sags in a string of helpless whimpers when you sink down onto him again, and again, and again and each time your hips collide, he’s forcing you deeper. The large hands glued to your waist are pushing you back and forth, wordlessly commanding you. The dull, achy stretch of his cock as it drags along your sopping walls is pulling the filthiest sounds from your gaped mouth — beautiful cries of pleasure, desperate pleads for more, and short huffs of air that only make him harder.

Even under you, he’s still massive, taking up the entirety of your bed as you sit so prettily atop him, thighs aching from the width of his hips. Sticky beads of sweat adorn his face and several tussled strands of short, inky hair dance haphazardly along his forehead, partially occluding his vision as he peers up at you through thick, furrowing brows.

“C’mereee, baby, fuck,” a greedy hand is reaching for your throat, deft fingers wrapping so possessively around the expanse of your neck, pulling you close.

His lips deliriously catch yours, tasting you so desperately — so sluttily. His warm tongue is creeping into your mouth, shamelessly exploring the sweet cavity. He swallows each and every gasp and whimper that he fucks out of you, intentionally storing them in the depths of his mind for later retrieval whenever he’d inevitably think about this very moment again. Your mouth hangs wide as you mindlessly kiss him back, obediently taking all of his tongue, all of his hot, raptured breaths, all of his wanton groans of pleasure — everything. 

Toji can hardly help the feral buck of his hips beneath you, he doesn’t want to help it. He needs for you to remember the feeling of his cock — how it pries you open and guts you out, how it stupidly pulls your mouth wide, even the way it creates the slightest bulge in your abdomen each time he’s at a hilt. He needs for your cunt to remember the shape of him.

If you don’t go to class with his cock in the forefront of your mind, if it isn’t what you envision when you pleasure yourself during ungodly hours of the night, if you’re not drawn to tears because you can’t possibly replicate the feeling of his punishing thrusts, then it’s a job poorly done and Toji won’t have that. Not now. Not ever.

The sheer force of his thrusts are jerking you forward, toppling you onto his chest and into his arms; they’re wrapping around you, pulling you impossibly closer as the mind-numbing buck of his hips only intensifies. Every frantic breath and throaty groan is lost in the crook of your neck, the close range of his moans like kindle to a rampant flame.

“Is anyone on campus fucking you like this?” It’s a strained, breathless whisper against the shell of your ear, his wet lips grazing your skin. “Who else is fucking you like this, huh?” He reiterates, a hand creeping up your jaw, holding you still so that he can observe your drunken gaze.

“No… no one,” you cry, shaking your head as best you can under his tightening grip, “nobody knows how to f-fuck me right.” The quiver of your sweet, honeyed voice makes his stomach sink in his ever growing arousal, cock twitching, begging for release.

Toji frowns, his darkened eyes softening. “Awwww, nobody knows how to please this slutty little pussy huh, sweetheart?” The hand that holds your face caresses your flushed cheek, a fat thumb slipping into the corner of your parted lips. “You needed a stranger to come over and fuck the shit out of you like this?” As if to accentuate his point, he’s tucking himself unbearably deeper, the lewd plap! of his balls echoing each time he bottoms out.

A big, heavy hand is landing on the fat of your ass with an experimental, earsplitting smack! You yelp incredulously, hissing through your gritted teeth as you brace yourself for another impact, but it doesn’t come. Immediately, your lust-stricken eyes are searching for his, a desperate cry dragging for your kiss-bitten lips as you plead for another.

“A-again,” you mumble, reaching for his hand to pull it over the reddening fat of your ass, enticing him, “hit me again… please.”

Wordlessly, he obliges, his heavy hand coming down once, twice, thrice, and then, you feel the gut wrenching coil in the pit of your stomach grow impossibly tighter, yearning for release. As you stupidly bounce up and down the length of his cock, you’re drunkenly babbling, but it’s the slutty, breathless whine of his name that’s dragging his mouth open in pure arousal; every breath he huffs is now a whorish moan or a guttural groan of pleasure.

“Oh, god,” he groans, his head sinking deeper into your cushiony, pink pillow, “rub that clit for me, sweetheart… I wanna see how you cum on it,” his shameless, drunken gaze is flitting between your rolling eyes and the way his twitching cock disappears into your cunt, “be a good girl ‘n make yourself cum on my cock.”

A frantic hand is reaching down to play with your poor, swollen clit, your entire being shuddering so violently from the feeling your own, overwhelming touch; It’s too much, too sensitive. Sinful rivulets of drool spill down your chin, your head falling to the side so stupidly as you trace haphazard circles around the ravaged bundle of nerves. 

“M’gonna c-cum,” you gasp, stomach sinking as your orgasm swells in the pit of your core, “hah —ohhh my fucking god… f-fuck fuck fuck.”

“Yeah? Are you cumming for me, pretty girl?” He’s coos as he draws you closer, the tip of his large nose brushing yours. “Do it then, make a mess on my cock, sweetheart c’mon,” his lips are on yours once again, kissing you so fucking sloppily, nothing but wet tongue and clashing teeth, “fuuuckkk yes, c’mon baby. Thaaaat’s it… cum on my cock just like that, such a good fucking girl.”

His mouth gapes as you buck against him, desperate, uninhibited moans dragging from your sore throat. With nothing but a strangled whimper in his throat, Toji is reluctantly slipping out of you, feverishly pumping the length of his cock in his tight fist. It’s so fucking wet; your arousal adorns the entirety of his cock and his drooling tip leaks desperately for you, making for an obscenely loud schlop! that reverberates throughout the sweltering atmosphere.

Toji’s head is pressing deeper into your pillow, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows thickly. His kiss-bitten lips are pursing together as he hums in rapture, whimpering strangled, erratic breaths through his nostrils. His forearm tenses as he hastily strokes his slick cock, sweet mutters of your name and lewd profanities spilling from his tongue.

“Help me, fuck, don’t just watch,” he gasps breathlessly, his vacant hand blindly searching for yours to wrap it around the fist that holds his cock, “fuck, fuck, fuck… yeah, make me cum like a good slut.”

The feeling of your smaller, less adept fingers wrapping around his fist and cock is what has him spilling an obscene amount of warm, syrupy cum between your searing bodies. It coats the expanse of your tits and abdomen, dripping so sinfully down your soft, perspiring skin. Toji thinks this is the hardest he’s ever cum in his life; even the day he lost his virginity pales in comparison.

It’s the look of utter enthrallment that’s written in your widening eyes as you observe his full body shudders that ensue with each viscous spurt of cum. It’s the way you’re beaming down at him, a content smile slowly spreading across your pretty, post-sex face. It’s the way you’re swiping a swift, curious finger to collect the cum that trickles down your chest, popping the digit in your mouth with a pleasureful hum of satisfaction.

Dumbfounded, Toji smiles. “You really are a woman of your word, huh?”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･