I Got Bored So I Thought I Might Share Some Stuff… Please Dont Stalk My Likes

boo.

relationship | ghostface!scaramouche x gn!reader (modern au)

synopsis | listen, the thirsty tiktoks of masked men – specifically ghostface – during Halloween were too interesting. you had to check it out for yourself! one of the actors is oddly... good at his job. maybe too good... content | mdni to be safe! suggestive tension with a murderer. that's it. kinda like...early stage yandere. no smut. cw | swearing, light knifeplay, y/n needs post nut clarity bc y/n is giving ‘foolish horror movie protag’, usage of "darling" a/n | this was supposed to be for both wrio and scara, but ive been neglecting the og boy. this is... unrealistic and self-indugent. please do not harass haunted house actors. super quick fic.

masterlist

it’s halloween night and the internet was rampant with videos and images full of the various actors who were a little too fine on this spooky evening.

due to the rising thirst for masked actors darting around and failing to startle some folks, your friends had decided it was time to check out the local one in town for the cheap thrill.

terribly enough, with the rising thirst, there were rising murders in town too. but halloween happened one night of the year! surely it would be fine if you enjoyed one late evening, right? besides, strength in numbers.

horny wins over sensibility. perhaps with the halloween spirit at its peak, the actors would truly send a chill down your spine and less of a… flustered reaction.

down the street, a fog machine pumped a haze across the damp concrete. candy wrappers and fake blood were splattered across the floor, with laughter and shrieks filling the midnight air as various actors impressed the crowd with their theatrics. some of them wielded prop weapons and slashed at the crowd, while some of them crawled around and swiped at people to scare them.

the road led to a busy haunted house at the end of it, where a majority of the more elaborate frights occurred. to reel customers in, a few actors were out and about, spooking potential customers and shoving flyers in their faces afterwards. your friends were chatting away, looking for a place to attract the attention of a few actors to see.

after a few moments, a group of actors seemed to have set sight on your posse loitering around and were heading in your general direction. bingo.

within seconds, a lithe performer from the back of the group donning a dark outfit approached you. on his slender body, the simple, nondescript black hoodie and pants allowed all of your attention to focus on his mask. a white, ghost-like plastic sat on his face. fake(?) blood caught the light from the halloween decorations nearby, glistening like the actor had just finished off a fresh kill.

from the exaggerated mouth of the mask, rhythmic puffs of the actor’s breath slipped through the fine mesh, only visible thanks to the evening chill.

steady breathing.

as the full group of actors approached, whispers erupted from your group before you could give your friends a knowing look. before you could snicker out a ‘ooh, ghostface!’, the entertainer darted forward.

a prop knife glimmers before it firmly pressed against your side as his free hand lands on your shoulder to pull you into the prop. his fellow actors all pounced on your friends as they laughed with fright, some of them recording the whole interaction to post it later online.

pressing close against your warm body, he mutters almost breathlessly into your ear.

“boo.”

oh, shit.

he sounded hot.

his voice was muffled by the mask on his face; it sounded a little raspy, maybe hoarse from the various voices he had to make this month. at your gasp, borderline shameless whimper, the oddly sharp plastic knife retracts a millimeter, its owner probably taken aback by your response.

if only you had noticed the distinct smell of metallic iron wafting near you.

the knife is hastily snuck away and he steps back, his grasp on your shoulder releasing. you could only assume he was staring at you through the soulless eyes of the mask, giving you an exaggerated once-over. over the course of a few seconds, his head travels from your face, down your body, stopping at your feet before the mask raises again to rest its gaze on your face.

he walks off.

the ghostface actor brushes past your body, waving the prop at your friends as if egging them to try something. his ominous theatrics were quite fun, to be honest.

once he was a few steps away, probably to look for the next loitering group of potential customers, you work the nerve to open your mouth.

“oh, boo, y-you could do better than that.” you laughed wryly as you turn to face his departing form, folding your arms and hoping the flush on your face could be blamed on the temperature outside. 

something about that prop knife pressing into your side was… exhilarating. the too-sharp point that dug into your skin felt good.

the masked man pauses in his spot. the rest of his troupe had noisily darted towards a group of teens, hoping to get fetch easy business. their rowdy volume seemed to fade away.

your friends had stepped to the side to rest on a bench, rewatching the whole recorded ordeal from someone’s phone.

less eyes were on you both now.

he stands there before turning in his spot. he cocks his head, the overemphasized motion was so accurately recreated. the masked man just stares at you, waiting for you to continue. the sharp blade in his hand hangs limply as he bounces it up and down in his hold. above, the lamp post illuminated him from behind, his shadow stretching his proportions on the stone road below. notably, his bouncing blade looked even longer.

he seemingly turns his head to your distracted friends, and after a beat, his grasp on the blade seem to grow confident, twirling it within his hand and sticking it straight out at you, playfully drawing x’s in the air with it. after a moment, you realize he was doodling that shape at your head.

after each completed ‘x’, he would take one methodical step forward and the shadow on the floor grew more distorted, inching closer to your own.

with the blade fully out, you could truly appreciate how well crafted it was. for a prop, it reflected the one cold light from the lamp post above.

faintly, you hear him hum, but you strained to hear him through the plastic. the halloween wind blows and it catches on the hood of his attire, but it was not strong enough to tug the hood down. dried leaves blow past your shoes, flowing to wherever the wind intended on heading.

his voice breaks through the hushed night.

“is that so? i was only trying to scare you a little.”

his voice sounded gruff as he questions your goad; your knees felt weak at the low timbre of his words. his voice lowers further, settling into a drawl.

“you want a real scare, darling?”

sarcastic affection dripped from his words. from the bench, your friends had quieted down, their eyes wide as a few of them took their phones out to record your interaction. it wasn't everyday an alluring ghostface stranger puts on a show.

you swallowed down your nerves, blood rushing through your ears. you knew you weren’t going to die, he was an actor for fucks sake, but the air felt so different right now, especially with the way he was slowly waltzing over. gracefully, he manahes to make the quietest steps on the gravel. amazing, considering how his heavy boots failed to make much sound.

as he inched closer, his low humming grew louder behind that bloodied mask as he continued to lazily slice x’s in the air with his knife.

two slices.

step.

two more slices.

step.

slice. slice.

step.

once he was less than a meter away, a burst of confidence shot through you and your hand shot out to grip him by the collar of his shirt.

you yanked him forward and a stuttered huff of his breath collides with your face.

maybe you had seen one too many thirsty tiktoks of girlfriends frothing at the mouth at the sight of their boyfriends.

from a distance, one of your friends squealed before the rest of them shushed her before they all scurried away, deciding that they needed to let you have your main character moment.

with his head once again curiously and dramatically cocked to the side, he trails the tip of the sharp, plastic knife against your side. it catches on the fabric of your clothes and he laughs cooly, steadying the surprise in his voice.

“you’re quite fun,” he says simply, the silky tone of his voice lulling and neutralizing you. his hand jerks to the side and a ripping sound reverberates through the… oh. 

it cut through your… shirt. 

oh, fuck. the knife is real.

you jump back, your heart beating out of your chest.

“weird way to convince people to go to the haunted house,” you huff nervously, covering the cut with your hand to prevent the cold air from nipping at your skin. you grimace at the man in front of you who continued to just stand there.

the knife bounces faster in his hand.

“ugh, i liked this shirt! just give me the pamphlet to the fucking house; i’m convinced, especially if all the actors are as intriguing as you.” you joke with a roll of your eye. you stick your unoccupied hand out to the costumed man in front of you, waiting for him to slide the glossy folds of paper into your hand.

maybe you’d demand for recompense as well.

once again, his head silently tilts to the side, the exaggerated angle almost made you snort. the mask looked barely human with the way it seemed to droop so low and how the eyes and mouth did not replicate typical human features.

the eyes drooped sadly, yet you could almost feel… amusement? mirth? oozing from the depths of the inky mouth and eyes. the steady puffs of his breath from earlier seemed to have crumbled into shakily, uneven, excited breaths. the night air truly illuminated his rising exhilaration.

his nimble fingers began to thumb the hilt of his blade. 

eerily, you note that the area was... empty.

where had everyone gone? it wasn’t like that ten minutes ago.

“darling, i'm honored you think so highly of me, but...” he croons, his voice taking on a singsongy tone. he takes a step forward, pressing his other hand against his chest, grandly gesturing to himself as he holds the knife out to his side.

“im not an actor.”

jimsonweed

@meo-eiru's Micah

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

Silence regathers for a quick moment as Micah haphazardly waits for her to finish and fill him in with the time elapsed since her last confession, until he at last recognizes the disembodied voice. His chin changes place with the cheek on his palm as he casts a sideways glance to the latticed window, sparing the effort to withdraw his elbow from its seat on the sill. Through the gaps of the screen and his feathery, pale eyelashes, he manages to make out the curve of a head tilted over prayer hands, their fingertips grazing the hairline.

"Let the Lord know what weighs on your conscience, child."

He hears her shuffle from one knee to the next as she kneels, and a note to remind the custodian to replace the fraying carpet flickers in his mind. He extends and relaxes the muscles of his calves and in his ankles, just enough to stop his legs from falling asleep within the cramped space of the confessional booth. Although his pristine church was far from detoriating, having subsisted off ample donations over the years, stick him in the booth long enough and he sometimes has half the mind of tearing out the structure from the floorboards himself like a tooth from its maw.

"I caught myself asleep while caring for the courtyard today— I immediately snapped myself out of it and was able to finish with my chores, but I fear this incident arrived too close after the nuns' last reprimand of me. They have took a notice of my idleness as well."

The choice of 'nuns' instead of 'sisters' is the only thing that stands out to him from the rather bland admission. He suspects that that lack of familiarity she addresses them with would be the final extent to which she would express, likely subconsciously anyway, any discontent she harbored with the nuns' maltreatment of her.

When he opened that particular letter bidding him to permit their daughter to take her vows, he too felt a bit of mild surprise, but that dissipated as quickly it had came. Detachment over worldly affairs and petty gossip alike aside, he did not anticipate the extent to which curiousity over her pedigree would cement into controversy for the rest of the convent.

But then again, perhaps that was lack of foresight on his part, since controversy was what her family was mired in. It was not the first or the last instance that their prominent surname was uttered about in hushed tones, but the one that did them in was when a certain head priest and nun left in dishonor from the very churchdoors that separated his convent from the rest of the world. Although the guilty party in question was from a generation that seized to have survivors quite a while ago, as it would turn out she would remain as their legacy in the eyes of the less charitable. While her family became a generous benefactor for his church over the years and was now at least formally under its good grace, it still stood amongst the community the impression that charity was the only virtue that they partook in, wontingly circumventing every other.

"Have you any trouble sleeping at night?" he treads, subtly leading her to break the anonymity the booth is supposed to afford. Although he had intervened to replace the meagre room and board that the sisters had provided her, he would not be the least bit surprised if they were still somehow behind her restless nights. Once he had seen her atop a wobbling ladder as she shakily dusted the cornices of the sanctuary, and believed it was a foolhardy attempt she had herself contrived to gain the approval of the convent. However, when he got her to step down to safety she informed him that it was basically the sisters' idea to risk stumbling onto her neck with no one to watch her in case of such an accident. Not only that, but it turned to be only an instance in a laundry list of Herculean labors that they shelved for the girl. He understood that the nuns would naturally require novices to prove themselves, but this mild hazing had long run its course, if it even could still be called that. From all accounts, she was a rather plain girl, and her arrival at the convent did not dissuade that impression he had of her at all. The nuns on the other hand seemed to insist that she was a 'spoiled princess who needed to be taught a lesson or two', a conclusion they arrived at long before she did.

"Not at all," she responds, "I find the nights here to be quite peaceful and quiet. I guess it is on account of indulging in both that I've started sleeping later."

A plain answer from a rather plain girl.

"There is one other thing I suppose."

Micah makes a non-commital hum. Truthfully he usually acts much more engagingly with his parishioners and convent no matter how mind-numbingly insipid the interactions are, masterfully cajoling them to air out their grievances and guilts under his confidence, as his duty dictates. That and her being the member of family of particularly influential parishioners should really press him into wearing his best face, even with the latticed barrier between the both of them. There is something about her, though, that makes him comfortable with withdrawing such airs. If she has nothing critical to say of the nuns, he rationalizes, then his current conduct would likely not cause him to withdraw from her favor either.

"I fear that I may also be too attached to worldly possessions. I find myself often missing a personal effect I had to give up when I arrived at the convent."

He wonders if it is the silver spoon the nuns were so keen in finding on your person.

"Ah," he half-remembers. "The toy stereoscope with the moths?"

"Oh- yes," she affirms, and he hears her hands slide up and down along the skirt of her habit before meeting each other again. His cassock begins to feel itchy. "I had had it since I was a kid. I liked to- to flip between the images. Of the moths." He hears the gears shifting in her brain as she figures, yes, of course, the personal effects would eventually makes its way into the hands of the head priest, who had a vested interest in all who come to his convent to take their vows. He straightens his spine as his arms fall to his side, and resists the urge to crack his knuckles. His mind blanks on what to follow up with, and hers apparently as well, and this quiet disturbs him more than it should as his predictable inclination for the upperhand in any conversation and its flow rears its head again; perhaps it is more surprising that it had laid dormant for any amount of time. The awkward silence that follows causes him regret the breach of impersonal formalities that he was responsible for encouraging in the first place.

"The garden is especially beautiful at nighttime this time of year," she ushers out the hush that had fallen.

He hums again.

"It's lovely all day long, but the moths wake up in the evening and after which you can really see them out and about. They're especially attracted by the flowers— the groundskeeper mentioned that you're particularly careful with caring and choosing for which get planted."

"Do you have a favorite?" he abruptly asks. The waning daylight finds its way through the perforations in the door of the confessional booth, and he watches dust dance with each other before putting his palm in front of his eyes, resting his index finger across his browbone. Despite his interest in florticulture, seasonal allergies the one ailment he was invincible against since birth, that question is one he seldom broached with others. When he was much younger, he entertained the idea that you could tell a lot about a person's psychology by their preference in flowers, only to discover that oftentimes this choice was guided by the same mindlessness that usually governed the rest of their passive life. Still, he patiently waits as she pauses in contemplation.

"A feathered thorn, maybe."

His brow momentarily knits in confusion under his hand.

Oh.

She is referring to a moth.

"Thank you," he says, though he is not what for, perhaps belatedly acknowledging the compliment she gave to his garden.

"Of course, Father."

Another pause.

"Your penance is two Hail Marys, one Our Father."

"Thank you, Father."

Micah peers down on the overturned earth where a datura had once made itself home. Cold apathy wraps itself around his heart, as he remembers the detachment his father offhandedly addressed with what had once been his mother's garden. Micah's garden. The so-called queerness of flowers and foliage that were too busy resting when it came to greet daytime visitors, but awake just in time to welcome unwanted ones. Micah having to shed unnecessary externalities while he prepared to enter seminary, was reaching that age where he would become a man. He recalls his own response of selective muteness, knowing distinctly the position of a boy of twelve and his personal thoughts within the household.

He shuts his eyes, and a hand tightens around a rosary, a thumb running along a ceramic bead.

His voidlike pupils emerge from that violent blink, and he walks back into the house with placid movements, soundlessly closing the door behind him. He tears off his scarf as if it was moth-eaten.

His mother's face when she caught him pressing his chafed fingers on the delicate petals of a morning glory, careful to not tear away at them.

Micah's hair might appear endlessly soft to the touch, but it is anything but. The strands are so thick, that if one was not deliberate enough when handling them a few would inevitably pierce the skin. One of the earliest responsibilities he bestowed on himself was learning to do his own hair, sparing his mother's hands from the splinter-like cuts that would occur whilst braiding or trimming it. He could still perceive the smack of her palm against the back of his head when he ran his inflamed fingers along the stained glass windows of the church for relief. When she had startled him by calling his name as he caressed the morning glory, he instinctively expected a similar reprimand, even an echo of his father's lectures on becoming a man. As he looked up at her face with his knees digging into the ground, the only thing beating down on him was his mother's smile.

When he was smaller it was not abundantly clear to him the connection between her concern for his sickly health and her devotion to the church. Much to his father's chagrin, his mother spared his early childhood from both hard work and hard play on account of his frail constitution. Even leisurely explorations of the outside world in daylight remained scant, his pale skin and white eyelashes rebelling against the sun which punished his insolence with rashes from its heat and migraines from its brightness. The attendance of mass, however, as well as the receiving of blessings from any priest that she could seize the attention of, was an exception, and a non-negotiable one at that. Prayer, was his constant companion that formed the monotony of his life which replaced both childhood friends and the daily sunrises, save for Sunday mornings when his mother would wake him up early to attend church and catch a glimpse of bored neighborhood kids who he could not exchange a word with as they rubbed the sleep out of their eyes listening to the priests speak. So when she woke him up again at around the same time the following day, the sun still hibernating as late winter only had just began to converge with early spring, he confronted the task of cleaning the courtyard of weeds and dead leaves without question and with a vigor out of place in the frigid landscape.

Lamb's ears. Vervain. Moonflowers. Four o' clocks. Artemesia. Angel's trumpet.

Their names would have to press into his memory for quite a while before their faces could. If they pressed on a bit harder, he supposes, he would have figured out his mother's design a bit earlier. Nonetheless, underneath the watch of his widebrimmed hat, his early mornings and then his evenings too were preoccupied with watering and pruning and fertilizing, constant monitoring in general, so much so that short term changes animated him more than long term prospects would. The stems for arms and leaves for fingers that extended themselves to the sky, the vines that groped their way up trelisses and across walls. The buds which had tentatively peeked out like the head of a turtle from its shell after a long winter. These were all rewards in themselves.

It felt in some way that not only his mother, but the world, was imparting a mystery on him and that he was also a part of.

The lamb's ears would be the first to bloom, in the late spring.

Well not quite.

Micah was disappointed when his mother had informed him that despite the inexorable spread of its creeping stems as they took root in the claylike soil, it would only start to flower in its second year. She had comforted him though by reminding him of its name and that its silvery leaves are the primary reason for its residence in the gardens in which it presides, as was the case with the Artemesia that would actually blossom that mid-summer.

Further respite was that the angel's trumpets that his mother had been caring for for the past nearly five years would finally bloom in the coming months during that very same time. Micah had not even been aware that the nightshade was capable of producing flowers, and once or twice had silently questioned of such an inconspicuous plant in the garden, the sole one at that time, which also needed to be brought home inside every winter. Once he had asked his mother if she liked it because it was mentioned somewhere in the bible, and she only laughed at him although he had broached the topic in complete seriousness.

The vervain and moonflowers ended up being the first to bloom, and in tandem. He had been awoken from a nap at a call for dinner when he had decided to check the garden first, and discovered that the buds of each plant had simultaneously burst open. His heart had swelled at the sight of the bubbles of tiny purple trumpets and the giant rounded white stars swaying in the evening breeze. When his mother had come out to see what was taking him so long to set the table, she practically had to pry him away, making him rub his hands on her apron on account of the latter's poison.

When he did make it to the dinnertable after thoroughly washing his hands, he could barely contain his excitement at the new developments. Although children were raised to be seen and not heard in his household, with little restraint he waxed about the garden and repeatedly asked his mother when he could expect the rest of the blossoms. It was a conversation between mother and son mostly, as his father remained characteristically quiet after he had said grace. It seemed for the most part that he silently approved of the manual labor his son was undertaking, having spent most of his boyhood without physical exertion.

His excitement dulcified into satisfaction for the time being so he had slept well and without break that night, but when he returned that following morning to the garden, he was startled to see that while the vervain still undulated in the wind like bubbles of sea foam, the moonflower had closed up shop as quickly as she had arrived. When he scuttered back home to find his mother and tell her that something had happened to the moonflowers, a look of confusion laid on her face before blithe composure returned at his description. She briefly chastised him on his lack of discernment, because if he could not at least recall that she had already mentioned it to him, he could surmise from the name that the plant prefered moonlight over the sun. He flushes at his previous panic, as he belatedly remembers her alluding that the flower only bloomed at night; him, being mistaken that the blossoms burst forth from the buds during a particular evening, then continuously blooming for the next few months.

In June the clock would finally strike four. Their architecture was that of the poisonous moonflowers though on a smaller scale, but much more colorful, as if someone took a paintbrush to make streaks of magenta across their white and yellow basecoats. It also would bloom later in the day, though a bit earlier than dusk, and his mother joked if he needed an exact reminder of when. The humidity of the season's evening pronounced its otherwise delicate smell, until it had become synonymous with summer nights for him.

The advent of the artemesia and the angel's trumpet in mid-August would complete this party of parioshioners that would attend Micah's midnight mass. Tiny, yellow clusters abutting the lobed, white fuzzed leaves reminded him of wreaths of winterberries, the sweet, fruity quality of the flowers marrying with the camphorous, sagelike aroma of the foliage. His mother's long-awaited nightshade on the other hand was beyond comparison, hanging downwards like a sunset-colored bell that would only ring at dusk, or a trumpet directed at a headstone to awake the dead. It seemed either that the third time was a charm, or he required the whole before he could understand the unity of its parts, but was his mother's moon garden, at any point, truly incomplete? On moonless nights when the silvery foliage would glow a little dimmer? Before a moth with tea-stained wings, the same color as blood dried on strands of white hair, would stir from its slumber to visit one September evening, and have its final rest on the arbor of a clock? At every midnight mass that did happen to take place, because the lamb's ear would be cut down prematurely, without any blooms?

Unfinished, maybe, but not incomplete.

MY DAILY DOSE OF JOY

notes.

ft. alhaitham, kaveh, kazuha, scaramouche & xiao.

warnings : modern au, established relationship, cursing (scaramouche), crack, fluff!!, lots of fluff!! lmk if i missed anything!

and thank you for the inspiration @fuxuannie (sorry for the sudden tag!!)

general taglist (open!) : @/zuyoo, @starz222, @haliyamori, @kazumist, @/tartaglia-apologist, @mikacynth, @angelkazusstuff, @doumalove, @kpop-and-otome, @emo-mess, @streetbystreets . . .

for ba bao fan | fem!reader

you, wandering around the house with a swollen belly. calling his name to ask for food and care and comfort. made me foam on the mouth holy shit, need that to become a shirt fr, continuing that one ask, imagine his lover did actually got pregnant, now months into the pregnancy she became quite clingy at times, especially when he came home late at night, because she knew, she couldn't actually get out that often anymore to join him in the casino when carrying a child, too much risk. so, she just resorts to actually voicing it on their late-night talk-cuddle, “y'know… you should take a rest tomorrow, i’m missing you too much to let you go.. this place doesn't feel like home when you're not around.”

if he actually does? well, as much she'll struggle with her growing stomach, let's just say she's ready to get down on one knee if he hasn't already or rainfall of tears, whole lotta of them

˖⁺. ﹙ the demon-possessed casino owner x afab!fem!reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . I would never leave you my dear !! 🍒 :  casino owner ˖ grim reaper ˖ demon cw : pregnant reader﹙ verse 1311 hàoyǔ. ﹚

your husband stays home to make sure you are doing alright with your pregnancy

of course he’d stay with you! his heart always hurt having to leave you in the day and return at night. he knew he couldn’t keep it up for too long - at some point he would need to be there for you.

casino be damned, the second you said that there was no way that he was leaving you alone ever again. not until you give birth and even then - he’ll wait a few extra months. one of his highers can tend to the casino until he’s back. he’ll simply check in through myrr whenever he can.

you would awake to your lover not beside you. tummy twisting and pregnant hormones making your heart break more than it should.

finding the will to rise out of bed and find your way out of the bedroom - you’ll catch whiff of something in the kitchen. a stir of hope. excitedly your feet carry you down the hallway. your tears doubling at the sight of your boyfriend adding the finishing touches to breakfast.

“now, why the tears?” hàoyǔ ‘s deep croon only makes them fall faster. he senses your next move and in an instant is in front of you so that you do not race over. a gentle hand to your stomach and another cupping your face.

“I-I thought -”

“Sshh,” he murmurs. A cold kiss presses to your forehead and he slowly rubs at your tummy. “Did you really think I’d leave you here after last night? Not leaving any time soon, my darling.”

Yandere Hybrid Town (1) | Only Human

In a world filled with humans and hybrids attempting to find balance with one another, you are but a simple human trying to integrate into the town on the property your late grandparent bequeathed to you. The town just so happens to have a small population of farming hybrids, with hardly any other humans around. 

“So you’re the inheritor…(Y/n)? (L/n)?”

“Yes, I have my I.D. if you want to check.”

“..Right….but the owner of the original property was a hybrid…you are not.”

“Not that it matters. But my grandfather’s partner was a Wolf hybrid…They both agreed to give it to me when they both passed.”

“I..see.”

It might be right to call it racism or maybe more accurately it’s specism and the townsfolk aren’t all that keen on hiding it. They openly sneer at you when you do come to town, whispering loudly about what they’ve heard, and rolling their eyes if you have the gall to ask them a question. 

“Can I get these bags of mulch in bulk?”

“...so what are ya talkin’ to me for? Just grab ‘em.”

“Your sign says to ‘ask for more at the front desk.’”

“...Fine dirt monkey. How much?”

It doesn’t bother you…sometimes. You mostly spend your days on your property, having picnics in the open fields you now own. Spending time renovating your cottage with all the custom plumbing and electricity you learn to install yourself. Wouldn’t want some unfriendly technician in town doing it instead. Anyways you get into the routine of sustaining yourself in your lonesome working from home and relying on your savings to help you enjoy your new life. That doesn’t stop until the one fateful day…you’re lounging on your deck when you hear something faint. It sounds like crying. 

“Waaaaa!”

It sounds like a child…which isn’t unfamiliar, after all your neighbors do seem to be a little family. Of course, they don’t want to talk to you but that’s fine.

“Waaaa!”

It sounds pretty intense but you’re sure it’ll stop soon. 

“Waaaaa! Somebody help, please!”

Now it feels wrong to ignore it any longer. You quickly fix yourself to head over, driving the tractor that you ride across your property to the fence that represents the beginning of your neighbor’s property. It was short work to hop over the fence and hear the crying persisting. Running to the back porch of the house, you see a little dog boy crying his heart out. 

“I heard you crying what’s wrong?”

The kid starts blubbering wiping at tears and snot on his face. After some calming pats between the ears and some promises to help you can get a clear picture.

“Mama fell ‘ver and she won’t wake up!”

You run inside to find exactly that. A dog woman face down on the floor while the soup on the stove boils out and whatever’s in the oven beginning to smoke. Stopping the appliances you flip over the woman in search of a heartbeat and breathing. Thankfully you find it and ask the little boy where you can lay her down. He points you to the bedroom down the hall passing by another bedroom and a bathroom. 

Once you’ve laid her down, check her temperature, and decide in your not-so-expert opinion that she’s suffering from a fever. Assuring the little dog boy you have him help you carry some cold water and a rag to place on her head. While making sure she drinks some water, you finally get to talking to the little dog boy who’s started to calm down now.

“That was real brave of you, good job for asking for help.”

“Big brother always said I gotta since I’m too tiny to do much myself.”

“Well, I thought you were very helpful and you don’t seem that tiny to me.”

“Thanks!” 

“No problem! My name’s (Y/n).”

“And my name’s Titan! By the way (Y/n) I’m real hungry!”

That’s how you ended up cleaning the dishes, Titan’s mother started and using what you could to make something new. You stuck with one of your old family recipes, relying on your memory the best you could to avoid another charred disaster. Eventually, you finish up able to set a plate in front of Titan who is more than happy to dig in. 

“More! More!”

“Okay Titan just a little bit more but you can’t eat it all we’ve got to save some.”

“Whyyyy!?”

“Because your mom hasn’t eaten yet and I’m sure your brother will want some when he gets home–”

“But he’s never aroun’ we’ll be waiting forever for him to come!”

Creak.

“Titan who is this?”

The new voice comes from a much larger dog man with a sturdy build, sun-kissed skin, and overalls barely hanging off his shoulders. His ears are narrowed back and his shoulders are hunched as he easily towers over you. With Titan’s help, you explain how you came to help and that his mother had fainted, likely from the fever she had. When you show him to her, his bared teeth and impending growl quiet down. Fussing over her as he checks for any sign that you might be lying. Finding that you’re not, he skeptically accepts the meal you made as you alternate watching over her and entertaining Titan–who’s far too chipper for a pup ready for bed. 

“Hey uh, wanted to apolog’ze for earlier”

“For what?!”

“Fer how I acted when you’re just helpin’ out.”

“Oh, it’s okay! I’m just happy no one’s hurt.”

“I’m also sorry for misjudging you. I think I had the wrong impression bout ya.”

As you continue to chat with the young dog man–Tank you both work together to finish up whatever chores his mom would usually do. Between you both Titan is convinced to finally get some sleep if it’s in your lap close to his mom. Tank suggests you stay over bashfully offering his bed if you need it. You decline, encouraging him to get some much-needed rest considering he was working on the farm tomorrow. 

“A-a-are you sure you don’t want to stay in a bed? I feel like it’s the least we could do.”

“No worries Tank, I’m going to watch over your mom until this fever breaks. Besides I don’t have the heart to move Titan now.”

“Fair I guess. Hopefully, I’ll see ya tomorrow?”

“Yeah if I’m not still here in the morning you can come to my place anytime.”

His fluffy tail wags a lot harder than he likes at that.

“R-really?”

“Yeah, anytime!”

With another ‘thank you’ he’s off to bed. It isn’t until sunrise that the fever breaks and the dog-hybrid mother is coming to. Assuring her that her boys and the food she left in the oven are not burning the house she calms down to thank you.

“Oh thank you thank you I don’t know what I would have done without you!”

Where you’ll have to fight her off from her barrage of kisses, hugs, and propositions to stay long enough for her to cook something for you to take home, as much as you wanted to stay and indulge in her acts of thanks, you missed your bed and it was plenty exhausting now that you were being spoken to positively. Convincing her that you were such a short drive away that she didn’t need to keep you too much longer and after promising that she and her boys were welcome anytime you could finally go home. 

“You promise?”

“Yes, Miss Tiffany I promise, anytime you’d like.”

“Just not now?”

“Yes, not now so please get some rest!”

Back in the comfort of your home, everything is more or less the same except for the recently obsessed friendly neighbors who make all the quiet time you used to have nonexistent. 

“Wake Up! Wake Up! Let’s play!”

“Egh Titan how did you get in here?”

“Through your doggy door!”

“But I don’t have one!”

“Now you do!”

Thus begins the first few to fall for the lone human in this hybrid town. Hardly shy about their newly discovered attraction as they fill their dull hours up with time next to you. Lucky them as your neighbors they’re the only ones privy to your addictive affection and comforting scent. 

“Oh! I was about to drive over to drop off Titan!”

“What a coincidence! We were just coming over to have dinner at yours!”

“Huh?”

“Well, you did say we can come and thank you anytime!”

“So we figured why not now!”

“In fact, maybe every week we come over to yours and you come over to ours!”

“I mean I guess-?”

“Wonderful Titan, Tank clear the kitchen I’m going to make this dinner the best yet!”

“Yes’m!” “Yes’m

The Dog hybrid family next door is all too eager to take up all of your time. Since the moment you moved in they’ve been eager to truly get to know you, woefully settling with the distant wafts of your scent during a favorable breeze. Unlike others in the town their curiosity for the human was a positive one blaming it on their all too friendly instincts they couldn’t deny the urge they got to close to the distance between you two. But alas everyone in the town was so averse to the idea they were pushed off the desire for far too long but after your sweet words and intentions, they’d be foolish not to return the affection. 

“(Y/n) if you’d like me to cut the grass, I don’t mind.”

“That’s really sweet, Tank but I told myself I wouldn’t allow myself to sit back and let others do all the work.”

His tail droops at that. “Ah I see.”

“But you won’t tell me to go away will you (Y/n)? After I made that doggy door and everything.”

“You just chewed a hole in my door and I’m not saying you can’t stop by Tank I just don’t want it to be because you’re doing more work.”

His tail is wagging a mile a minute again. “I don’t mind if it’s for you!”

With your canine hybrid neighbors so close it’s hard to forget you were ever left alone. Now quiet and sometimes confrontational trips are filled with at least one member of the family accompanying you. Willing to bargain at stores for you or impressively growl when the cashier’s being a tad too snippy. It does make you nervous when the tiny Titan politely asks the nosy bird-woman who had the nerve to whisper about you to a ‘nice chat’ in the alley between the store. Returning with tufts of feathers and blood in his baby teeth. Or how Mama Tiff will oh so politely mention her bloodhound heritage at the fox bullies that hang around your car. Or when Tank all too eagerly pulls you into his side when he finds you cornered by the snake librarian.

“Back off my human!”

After any confrontation, you’ll ask your questions. Head on or round about they’ll all only smile at you, tail wagging wildly behind them. As if they’re proud of the slight fear in your eyes when you ask what that was about.

“We just want to protect you! You are only human after all!”

Part 2: Coming Soon

⋆ ˚ ｡⋆୨୧˚ Masterlist 1 ˚୨୧⋆｡ ˚

Yandere oc ages

Yandere sizes

Yandere heights

Yandere pretty boy introduction

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Description Drawing

Yandere jock introduction

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Yandere roommate introduction

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Yandere pervert introduction

Part 1

Description

Yandere victim introduction

Yandere stripper introduction

Yandere octopus introduction

Yandere bunnyboy introduction

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Yandere streamer introduction

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Drawing 1

Yandere mean prince introduction

Part 1

Yandere masochist introduction

Part 1 Part 2

Yandere gangster introduction

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Yandere cupid introduction

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Yandere zoo introduction

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Yandere aquarium introduction

Part 1

Yandere vampire introduction

Part 1

Yandere council president introduction

Yandere best friend introduction

Yandere immortal introduction

Yandere monster introduction

Yandere playboy introduction

Yandere dogboy introduction

Yandere catboy introduction

Yandere foxboy introduction

Yandere actor introduction

Part 1

Yandere harpy introduction

Part 1

Yandere incubus introduction

Part 1

Yandere nerd introduction

Part 1

Yandere robot introduction

Part 1

Yandere cute prince introduction

Yandere merman introduction

Part 1

FALLEN LEAVES, ADORN MY NIGHT 🍁

He’s so precious!!!, GOODLUCK TO ALL KAZUHA WANTERS AND MAY KAZUHA HAVERS GAIN CONS !! (very very VERY edible artwork😋😋 ty for this)

one with the wind 🍁

Hiii!! Hope you’re doing good!! Could I request a poly werewolf 141 x reader who just has bad abandonment issues? Take care of yourself, I love you!!

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about abandonment, and werewolves.

A/N: Hi!! Yes of course. We love werewolves!! Enjoy and love you too, beloved <3!!

Gif by @/bastardcompany // NOT MINE

It breaks their heart, especially on Gaz's part, that you have this fear. Something, or someone, must've caused it. And it only angers and annoys them. However, they can't help but love this side of you.

It's easier for them to manipulate you, making you stay home, away from outsiders, and stay closer to them. And, with them being already possessive, and the werewolf blood swirling in them, it makes them proud and almost excited that you have a need about being around theme.

All of them, especially on Soap's part, constantly remind you that you're theirs, and they are yours; vice versa. Most of them understand your fears, all of them going through the fear itself one way or another. And quite the contrast, they don't blame you.

Naturally, with having bad abandonment issues, comes with insecurity, ultra clingiest, and paranoia. Most of the time, Price and Gaz are always around you, glued to your side and ensuring that they won't leave you — and never leave you for ‘someone else’

Every day, all of them are constantly wanting to be near you, touching you, holding you, talking to you, smelling you, any way any of them could have you.

In rare scenarios, where they do have to leave (work or having to go somewhere in public where they don't you at), they assure you over and over that they will just be an hour, and come straight back. Making sure to pick something sweet up (a gift) to prove to you that you mean everything.

All of them do meaningful things, especially during the nights where they're the most energetic — Soap bringing you a dead dove, mouth stained in blood and a sign of I love you in his eyes.

Simon and Price both working together on bringing a bunch of roses, flowers, or even a pine-cone from the forest; nudging it closer to your form as you gently reward them.

Gaz naturally gifts you his things — ensuring that you can, and you will wear his shirts, boxers, or even hats if he asks. And if you don't? Well, you wouldn't want to make your mates sad, no?

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

#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.”

Since the booping has returned, reblog if it's okay to spam you with boops!

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