The appeal Miyuki saw in it escaped her, for the taste and texture weren't sweet or rich, nor creamy, nor easy on the tongue. 

Bitter, disgusting, and runny—that’s how she found it. 

The hybrid lay, eyes wide and wild, seeking comfort in the door behind her. Their corpse took no responsibility for tainting her skin and clothes with blood. 

A buzz interrupted her predicament. 

Father, the call handle read.  “Has your target been disposed of?" 

“Yes.” She replied with a nod.

“Good, come home," he sighed. There was a pause before he spoke again. “You're not hurt, are you?” 

Heat flooded her face. “No, Baba, I’m fine.” Y/n’s tone was soft and caring.

A ruckus could be heard on the other line, and a worried voice urged. “Y/n, is that you? It’s late; come home. It's dangerous this time in the morning.” 

Y/n’s brows furrowed—morning?—separating her ear from her phone. The bright screen flashed 1:00 am. 

Fuck, I have morning classes today. Her head fell back with a grunt.

“Don’t worry, Mom, I’m leaving right now.” 

Y/n rushed out of the dilapidated building, only to return quickly to retrieve her forgotten weapon. 

Hopping onto her bike, the engine hummed, letting the cool breeze kiss her skin. Throwing her hands into the air, Y/n devoured the thrill. 

And before she knew it, the motorcycle’s wheel was turning down a familiar road. Slowing down, she waved at the guard post coming into view. 

The security guard, Jackson, scrambled to his feet, pushing the automatic door open. 

“Good morning, my lady," he bowed. 

Coming to a standstill, she spoke. “You don’t have to call me that," Y/n breathed. "We're like family.”

Jackson laughed gruffly, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, my lady.”

Revving her bike, a titter slipped from her lips. “What will I ever do with you?” 

“Only time will tell," he waved Y/n off, closing the door behind her. 

Vanishing into the dark, her taillight waves in red strikes. 

Sliding to a park, Y/n parked close to the entryway. Kickin’ the stance down, off came her helmet. 

Exhaling a puff of air, she watched as they turned to mist. Shuddering, she rubbed her arms. I just want my bed.

Walking into the house, she was met with the scent of a home-cooked meal. 

Blinking in astonishment, she ventured further. “Mom,” she hesitated. "Why are you up at 2 in the morning?”

The woman smiled. “Welcome home; come in, have a seat, and eat.” A plate was set on the table. 

“I’m still confused. Why are you up at this hour?”

“Are you seriously complaining to me right now?”

“God gave you two ears and one mouth for a reason,” her mother snapped, pointing a spatula at her. “Either you eat or go to bed hungry.” 

Her stomach growled in protest at its owner's defiance of nourishment.

“Oh, are those carrots? My favorite.” In a swift motion, she sat down and scarfed everything down—dinner/breakfast was uneventful. 

Hot water felt exquisitely across her flesh. A soft groan rumbled as the liquid struck sore muscles. 

Gears turned and clicked as the session came to a close. By now, her clock signaled 2:30.

Excess water dripped onto the floor as she dried herself off with lazy movements. Y/n, dressed in an oversized T-shirt, enters the luxury of her room. 

“Finally!” 

Unceremoniously, she collapsed into her covers. Curling in on herself and letting sleep overcome her senses.

Hnngh

Ahh–ahhg

Flames licked at her body.

Mmmgh~

Y/n’s hips rocked back and forth, desperately searching for a high. 

Groggily, her mind tried to awaken, blinking flashing lights out her half-lidded eyes.

Uh…mm

Haah~

Ah–Fe–feels so good…

It felt like nothing she had felt before. 

Another current of electricity arched her back. Mmm…

Hands gently parted her thighs, pulling Y/n forward, grasping a plea from her. Something wet and warm kissed her core. Their lips moved to wrap around her clit, curving her body almost off the bed; she quivered with ecstasy. 

Y/n reached for them, meeting silk strands of hair, unkempt, as she urged them further, searching. 

Their head surfaced. “That’s it, doll." Their voice was humorous, vibrating the coil in her tummy. She could feel the bed dip and rustle, their fingers softly teasing her entrance. 

He was toying with her need for release. He wanted her to beg for it, to beseech with her own mouth. 

Her bundle of nerves felt alight with neglect, adding fuel to the fire; she could feel his finger flick her nub. “You want me to touch you? Hm? You’ll have to beg me for it, sweetheart.” He commented lazily.

“P–Please.” Her hips grind against his hand.

“Please, what?” There was lust in his inquiry. “Use your big girl words.”

"Ma—make me cum. I need it…please!” Y/n spluttered, biting her bottom lip. 

A small thing snaked around her leg.

“Oh,” he lifted a brow, “how much does my doll want to cum?” 

His tail amusedly tapped her thigh. Words eluded her, nodding only in reply.

“Alright.”

His body weight shifted, trapping her under him. His breath fanned her lips as he pecked her. He nipped her lower lip, awaiting admission; when it wasn’t granted, he smacked her pussy, using his tail.

The sensation elicited a gasp that was quickly drowned out by a French kiss. Tongues swirling and vying for control, saliva mixing with every exchange.

His fingers slipped inside her flower, tail rocking her clit; her body felt like it was being electrocuted.  

God, her mind was turning foggy and fried. Hfff! Mm!

Two fingers curled onto her G-spot, slick, gushing, and squelching across the dark room. The coil within her belly tightened, pulling and pullin’.

It was becoming too much. 

His quick and nimble fingers scissored her, thumb circling her aching pearl, tail unrelenting.

In one instance, the dam broke open, spilling sticky honey with a moan. MMMGH!!

Y/n’s eyes snapped open; gasping, she trembled with the aftershock. 

A hand covered her lips, swallowing her cries; there was sweat and her bodily fluids coiling beneath her. Her panties were missing, leaving her lower lips glistening, sticky, and heated. 

Blinking the stars, daze, and electric sparkles away from her hazy lids, Y/n sat up. 

Morning rays filtered through her window, highlighting her bedhead and her now discarded bedcovers. 

Her eyes wandered inside her room, as if trying to find him. Y/n almost felt like she was inside a vivid dream. 

Wishing the scene would continue and he would caress her again.

A knock and a voice brought her to reality. “Young Master, you’ll be late for classes.”

“G—coming,” she said frantically, gathering up her soiled clothes and tossing them inside the dirty clothes hamper.   

Shielding her face with her arm, she could feel as it burn like molten lava. Cherry red painted her cheeks, neck, and the tips of her ears as she made her walk of shame into the bathroom.

20 minutes. That's how long she had before class started, as she finally pulled into the parking lot.

At her usual spot, two familiar figures waited. One more inpatient than the other. A dragon and a vampire. 

“Finally,” Miyuki glared, "do you have any idea how long we’ve been waiting here?” The hold on her UV umbrella tightened. 

Aoi nodded, pale-blue horns catching the light of the sun. Parking, she held her head low. “Sorry,” Y/n mumbled, “I slept through my alarm.” 

Removing her helmet, Aoi reached for the item, taking it into his large hands. “Thanks.” She nodded. 

“Professor Namami sen—Are you even listening to me?” Miyuki commanded, eyebrow raised.

“Uh, no?” She gave a shrug.

“I can’t believe you made it to college.” She facepalmed. “Like I was saying, Professor Nanami sent an email talking about the group project.” 

“Oh,” Y/n perched up, "you think it's group work or solo?”

Aoi made a gesture of not knowing as they navigated the halls. “I hope I have someone with at least two working brain cells." Her shoulders dropped; that got a laugh from the giant. 

The classroom was still somewhat empty, with people loitering around as they talked to their friends or the few on their computers. 

Settling into her seat, Y/n lay her head down, planning for a quick nap, while Aoi and Miyuki set up their laptops. 

Minutes passed, and laughter rose, added to by the click of keyboards. Suddenly, the room got quiet, way too quiet.

Lifting her head, she spotted a head full of spiky pink hair. It was one of the Kamo siblings, Yuuji.

His twin frowned, saying something that earned a laugh from Yuuji. Sukuna was a couple of inches taller than Yuuji; with his muscles, he looked like a killing machine. 

“How many times have I told you to stop dressing like me, you brat.” Sukuna crossed his rippling arms. “It was an accident.” Yuuji threw his arms up.

Still bickering, they finally made their way into the room. 

The Itadori siblings were attractive, fit, and a whole package. Men and women alike would line up to experience sexual enlightenment from them. No one would expect less from them; they were incubi, after all. 

“Sukuna,” a tired voice warned. “Stop making such a big deal out of this.”

Choso yawned, heading for the stairs at the back of the classroom. Sukuna huffed, tail swishing angrily from side-to-side.

Yuuji happily ran after his big brother, earning him a laugh and a headshake.  

Choso’s octaves stroked Y/n’s ears just right, deep and rich. Every note from his tongue elicited shivers and throbbing in her womb.

F—Fuck…

Her uterus spelled his name with need. Legs rubbed together for friction; wine red painted her face. It was either shame or horniness.

slick sliding down her thighs.

Please… Please don’t notice. Her eyes tightened shut.

“Hey.” Miyuki shook her lightly. "You okay? You’re shaking. Are you cold? Sick?” 

She was becoming increasingly worried. Every coherent thought turned seasick. 

“I-why is it so hot?” Y/n panted, at last bringing her head up as she used her shirt as a fan. “Is the heating broken?” The subtle shift turned her garments uncomfortable, scraping, buttons digging, and pressing on sensitive parts.

Y/n flinched as cold digits brushed her forehead. “You're warmer than usual," Miyuki hummed. “Were you out late?”

She nodded.

A soft huff alluded Miyuki, “That's what you get.” She placed her hand down. “It looks like a small fever; you might have just caught a cold.”

Her body leaned forward, trying to grasp the coolness of Miyuki’s hand. “That feels nice…” She slowly blinked.

As the trio was seated, Y/n found her eyes being attracted to Choso, who took the chair behind her to the right. On this occasion, his hair was loose and untidy, a departure from his customary style. His gaze shifted, staring directly at her with an amused smile. 

Caught red-handed, she reluctantly averted her eyes, scribbling nonsensical words in her notebook, a blush creeping up her neck. He’s wearing eyeshadow!

To her, Choso was a sin only described in fairytales and sacred scripts, and oh, how his corruption would be sweet! Aoi, bless his soul, wrapped his wing around her, using his low body heat to cool her down. 

“Thanks.” Y/n bashfully smiled. Her friend hummed, ruffling her hair, with smiling eyes. 

“Okay,” the professor sighed, “settle down, everyone.” He exclaimed and placed his class and study notes down on the table. Mr. Nanami turned, picking up a marker. “I will be assigning panthers and explaining the assignment in the final 40 minutes of class.” He paused before resuming his writing. “Now, open your textbook to page 352.”

Choso's notetaking began to turn into daydreams, ones of Y/n’s aflamed face, twitching thighs, and moans. The images formed a tight tent in his pants. 

‘Tongue on her flesh mapping passages of increasing ecstasy, lips upon lips, each fighting for control of the other. His fingers tracing circles on her sensitive bud.’

His tail swished from side to side; Sukuna frowned hard at him, being on the receiving end of violent hits. Clearing his throat, Choso calmed his nerves a little. 

Time moved both fast and at a snail's pace, and before the class knew it, the 3-hour lecture was coming to a close. Entering the final 40 minutes, Professor Nanami looked at his watch. “Alright, that’s it for today's class.” He set the marker down. “If you have any questions, please email them to me.”

Clearing his desk of a bit of paperwork, he left a small stack out to share with the class. Waving the sheets, he looked them in the eyes. “This is the list of partners based on grades for my class. I also printed out the requirement; you can either do a 15-minute presentation or email me a 15-page essay; the back and front don't count.” 

The room erupted into murmurs, some cheering while others groaned and cursed. 

“I will be letting you choose any topic related to anatomy and sexual education. Additionally, those who choose to do the essay don't have to come to class on the final day.” He nodded. “Your presentations will be in this room from 10:30 to 12:30; no makeup unless given a reasonable excuse.”

Miyuki sighed, relieved, while Aoi looked around for his companion as Nanami read off names.

“Kamo Choso and L/n Y/n.” 

Y/n's heart both sank and skipped a few beats. Choso, on the other hand, could not hide his glee, lucky me, licking his lips. 

Today really was his day.

“That would be all. If there are any issues with this arrangement, you know my email." He waited for a moment; when there was no response, he fixed his glasses. “If there are no questions, I wish you all a good weekend.”

She remained glued to her cushion, trying to muster the courage to stand up and talk to Choso.

The room had mostly cleared out; the only remaining ones were likely talking about their project ideas. Taking a deep breath, she observed her writing; it was a mess. A figure quickly approached her hunched-over form.

‘Knock Knock’

Startled, she snapped her head up, finding herself nose to nose with Choso. His tight under-armor top was not hiding anything for the eyes to see; his baggy pants were another story. Well, her eyes did wander dangerously low, revealing his V-line. 

“Eyes up, her love.” Choso chuckled, pointer finger and thumb raising her chin. His arm was an array of veins. Tilting his head, he said, “Like what you see?” he joked.

“I–um, sorry. Wh–when do you want to start?” She sputtered, brain running a million miles. 

Choso released her jaw, leaning on the table, decorated hand on his waist. “Hmm… Today my class ends at 3:15," he lazily acknowledged. “Here, let me get your number. I’ll call you when I leave.” 

Hypnotized, Y/n gladly handed over her phone. Choso typed his number into the contact list.

“See you later, darlin’.” He waved, backpack slung over his shoulder. 

3:15 could not arrive any faster; she ate in the cafeteria, had a synchronous class in the lounge, and even took a small catnap, all for it to still only be 2:30. Sometime later, Miyuki and Aoi joined her for a chat before having to leave for their work shift at 2:50. 

With leftover time, she checked her school portal for any homework or new assignments to complete. Exhaling, she pushed her chair out a little to stretch her sore muscles.

Abruptly, her phone rang with an incoming call; Choso’s name popped up on her screen, followed by the purple devil emoji. Picking up the line, she voiced, “Hello?”

“Hey, my class just finished. Where are you right now?”

“In the cafeteria’s lounge.” 

Choso hummed. “I’m by the parking lot; do you want me to come and get you?” 

“No. Let me pack up, and I'll meet you there in 6.” She hung up, hurriedly packing up her laptop and notes. Standing up, she grabbed her bag and gave the couch one last look. 

Rushing out of the building, she huffed and panted, gulping as she looked from side to side until the man in question lifted his hand and waved her over. Whipping the sweat from her face, Y/n looked up at him, almost dazed. “Hey. So, where do you want to do our assignment?" 

“I was thinking we could go to my off-campus apartment.” He signaled with his chin, still keeping an eye on her.

“Apartment!” Her voice cracked an octave. 

Choso huffed a laugh. “I would have suggested the library, but they closed it early for maintenance.”

“Oh,” she owlishly blinked, “I…I guess we can go…to your apartment.” She fiddled with her bag strap. 

Choso’s apartment was relatively close by, 10 minutes or so, just at the end of the street. Arriving at the front door, he used his ID to scan in before holding the door for her. "Thanks," she inclined, marveling at the array of flowers on display. 

Nabbing Y/n’s hand, he gently took her to the lift. “Come on, love, we’re taking the elevator to the 4th floor.”

Letting herself be guided in, her hands felt clammy, and her leg started twitching. Sensing her nervousness, Choso rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. The hoist dinged, opening up to a long hallway. 

The two walked hand in hand to the last door before the space ended. “We’re here.” He let go, fishing his keys out his pocket. Pushing the door open, he flicked the lights on with a charming grin. “Welcome to my home.” Dropping his bag behind the couch, Choso walked to the fridge. 

Y/n was left in awe; the complex expanded towards the living room. There was a large-screen TV, posters, family photos, and a drum set by the window. It wasn’t what she had in mind. 

Shifting her perspective towards the kitchen, Choso leaned on the counter, wiping excess water from his plush lips. Tail flicking with amusement as she watched him gulp. Clearing her throat, she finally spoke, "Whoa, it must be nice living here. Bummer you have to share the space.”

“Nah, I live alone.” He rounded the counter, making his way to the couch. “My brothers live just next door.” Sitting down, he patted the seat next to him, signaling for her to put her backpack down. They settled into an easy pace until the issue of the main idea came up. At one point, he vanished to the bathroom, allowing her to think for a bit. Holy shit. I’m in his dorm alone!

“Boundaries would be a good topic, don’t you think?”

Choso rolled his shoulders. “I like the idea of a reward and punishment system,” he shot back. "Besides, everyone would be doing boundaries; it’s an easy topic.” 

“Reward and Punishment? Really? What would you even be rewarding?”

Their argument had been building for the better part of twenty minutes—voices climbing, patience fleeing, and neither willing to yield an inch. 

At some point, she stood up and jabbed a finger into his chest hard enough to feel his heartbeat through his shirt. “If you’re such an expert, why don’t you show me, huh? Come on—prove me wrong, big boy.”

Choso tilted his head, one brow raised. “You want me to show you?” His tone was soft, coaxing even, almost as if he were giving her a last chance to take it back.

“Did I stutter?” She snapped.

“Fine.” His eyes darkened; smiling, he stood. “Strip to your underwear.”

The words hit her like a splash of cold water. “Wh—what?” Her voice cracked. Heat flooded her face so fast it almost gave her whiplash, blooming from her cheeks down to her collarbone. 

“What?” He pulled his T-shirt over his head, letting it drop, then opening his arms—casual, like he hadn’t just derailed every thought in her skull. “Well, didn’t you want me to teach you? Here’s your opportunity.”

Every rebuttal or rational thought she had queued up, and she walked out the door. Something else—a reckless and warm and far too eager critter—stepped in to take its place. 

She fumbled out of her clothes with none of the confidence the moment demanded, shimmying out of her pants, tugging at her shirt, and throwing everything into a pile at her feet. “Th—There.” Her body twitched, eyes bouncing from the wall to the floor to the ceiling—anywhere but him.

“Good girl. Here’s your prize.” His voice dropped. One hand cradled her cheek, thumb brushing the heat from her skin like he was trying to tattoo it into his soul; the other pulled her flush against his chest. 

He pressed a small peck on her lips—asking for permission—then leaned in and let it deepen. His fan caught her lower lip; a startled gasp slipped out before she could cage it. He took the sound as an invitation, tilting her chin up and sliding his tongue against hers.

The cool bead of his piercing threaded between them—a slow, deliberate rhythm that sent sparks skittering down through her chest and pussy. She tried to kiss him back and attempted to match his pace, but it was like pushing against a tide. 

He swallowed every small, breathy sound she made and asked for more. When they finally pulled apart, neither spoke for a moment—just breathing, chests rising and falling, the space between them charged and electric. 

Her half-lidded gaze traced the lines of his torso, watching his ribs expand and contrast. Something hot and insistent coiled in her lower tummy; she pressed her thighs together without thinking, chasing friction that wasn’t there. 

“You alright, love?”

“Huh? I—” she blinked, in a trance. “I feel… so warm all of a sudden.”

“That would be my saliva.” He traced his thumb along her jaw, a blush creeping down his own neck. “It’s an aphrodisiac.” His eyes searched hers. “You want to keep going?”

“Mhm.” She kissed him.

“Alright, sweetheart. Off with the rest—let me see you.”

He watched intently as she reached behind her back and fumbled with the clasp of her bra. It slipped from her shoulder. Her hands hovered at the waistband of her panties—fingers twitching, courage flickering—before she pushed them down and stepped free. Then she lowered herself onto the cushion behind her, lay back, and let her arms drop to her side.

Baring herself, her heart hammered hard; she could feel it in her fingertips. 

God, she’s stunning. The thought hit him like a punch to the sternum, and the tightness in his pants, which was manageable, sharpened into something so demanding he could not ignore. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice rough. “So perfect. I’ve wanted to worship you like this for so long.” He didn’t wait for a response. 

He leaned down and kissed—soft, reverent—then traced a path down her throat, across her collarbone, and lower. His mouth found her mount, warm and plush. 

Her back bowed off the cushion. “Mmmgh—f-feels so good—” Her hips rolled on instinct, bucking upwards, chasing her high. Without warning, something cool and firm smacked against her—his tail, flicking her clit with precise, punishing little strokes. She yelped, and he released her with a wet pop, lifting his head just enough to look at her. 

“Ah-ah.” His eyes glinted. “Can’t have you trying to have all the fun by yourself.” He nipped the curve of her breast—sharp enough to sting, gentle enough to make her whimper. 

“Ah–haa–”

His hand kneaded one breast with slow, practiced pressure while his mouth claimed the other—tongue swirling wide, lips pulling soft, teeth grazing just shy of too much until she couldn’t hold still beneath him. "Mmm…haa—s-stop teasing me,” she breathed, fingers threading into his hair and pulling without meaning to. 

His free hand slid between her thighs, finding the swollen bud and drawing slow circles with the pad of his middle finger. “This what you wanted?” He dragged his tongue across her chest, tasting salt and heat. “Ahh–ngh… mmh…” Words disintegrated in her throat. 

His tongue piercing circled and pressed against her nipple. He gave her a quick, sharp smack—right on her cunt—and the sound cracked through the room. “Use your big girl words.” His fingers picked up speed, slick and relentless. 

The knot low in her belly pulled tighter, tighter, wound to its limit—she was right there, teetering on the edge—and then his hand was gone. 

Her body chased empty air. A broken, high-pitched whine tore from her. “Noo—”

“You don’t come until you tell me what you want.” His voice was controlled, almost gentle.

“No…haah–ng! Please let me come…ahhck—" Her voice cracked, splintering into something raw. “I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be good—”

“That’s my girl.” He shifted lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, her hips, and the crease of her thigh. When he reached her inner thighs, he stopped, let his breath ghost over her, and waited until she was trembling before throwing both her legs over his shoulders. “I’ll give you the reward of your life.”

The first contact was barely a kiss—burning and lingering—pressed right against her folds. Then a teasing bite at her clit, sharp enough to make her jolt. He groaned against her, the vibration alone making her thighs clamp around his ears.

Again he licked one long, slow stripe along her entrance up to her clit, piercing catching at the hood, nose bumping against that sensitive pearl, and Y/n’s hands flew back into his hair—fingers twisting, pulling, and burying him deeper.

He moaned into her, and the vibration pulled ragged sobs from her chest. She was soaked. His chin glistened, juices running down his jaw and smearing against her quivering thighs, and he didn’t slow down—if anything, the taste of her made him hungrier. 

He slipped his tongue inside, the cool metal on his appendage dragging against sensitive walls, pressing and scraping spots that made her vision white out at the edges. “Mmmgh–! Right—right there—” Her head pressed back into the cushion, eyes rolling. “That feels so good–ahhhng—”

He ate her like a man starving—tongue flickering, pressing, curling, digging for more. Y/n’s thoughts dissolved into static, her whole world narrowing to the wet heat of his mouth and the relentless pressure of his tongue. 

Then he pulled back, pressing one last, long, flat, unbearably slow stripe from her entrance to her clit, and held. 

"Haa—more—" she was shaking.

He pressed his palm flat against her lower stomach, pinning her in place—not rough, but firm and inarguable—and dove back in. 

This time his thumb joined his mouth, pressing tight circles against the bud while his tongue worked inside her. The dual sensation was too much and not enough all at once. “Uhhg—'m comin’—'m comin’—!" The coil snapped. 

Her orgasm hit like a dam breaking—her whole body seized, toes curling hard, thighs locking around his head as she squirted against his chin, against his chest, trembling and twitching through waves that wouldn’t stop. “HA—HA—AHHHNG—!”

Choso groaned at the taste, licking and sucking at her through the aftershocks while Y/n’s hands pushed weakly at his head, overstimulated to the point of tears. "Ah—ahh—no more, no more—" Her voice became thin and stuttering.

He finally came up for air, face slick, chin dripping. He wiped it with the back of his hand and exhaled shakily. “Mmm…fuck—” The words came out slurred, with a hint of neediness. He pressed his forehead against her thigh and felt his hips jerk into the cushion beneath him—involuntary, desperate. “I can’t—I need… please—”

His eyes found hers, heavy-lidded and dark with raw lust. “Can I—I need you. Please—” His voice caught in his throat as he swallowed hard. “Let me be inside you, baby.”

The pet name went in one ear and dropped straight into her womb like a lava stone sinking into deep water. She covered her face with both hands, but her voice came out clear enough. “Please… ha—fuck me, Choso. I want to feel you.” 

His whole body twitched. She watched his jaw clench and watched him swallow hard, and she could tell he was fighting not to finish right there in his pants. He stood fast, graceless, all but tearing his way out of his clothing. 

His cock sprang free, flushed dark, the tip crying white pearls, and throbbing veins along its length. Choso was girthy and about six inches; her mouth watered. 

Gently—oh, so gently it almost made her chest ache—he took her hands and pulled her upright. Her legs trembled immediately, strength gone, and one of her knees threatened to buckle. Sitting down, he guided her to straddle his lap, hands steady on her waist.

“My belly feels like it's on fire…” she mumbled, pressing Choso’s palm flat against her lower stomach where the heat pooled and pulsed. 

 She started gridding against him—slow, instinctive, and obscene. His shaft slides between her folds, slicked from root to tip, and every pass of his head across her clit draws a broken mewl from her lips. “Haa—hnn–the tip is rubbing my—mmph—” She bit down hard on her bottom lip, face burning.

“Don’t—” There was a sharp inhale. “Nngh—don’t hide your pretty voice.” He buckled up, his tip kissing her entrance, and she felt herself stretch and ache around the pressure. She pushed down—slowly, shakily—and the first fat inch slipped past her lips. “HNGH—!” 

Her thighs seized, tongue slipping past her teeth as a small, sudden orgasm rippled through her, triggered just by the stretch alone.

Dropping her head against his shoulder, her body still quivering through the aftershock. “Haa… hnn…” Fogged, she looked down between them—watching her swollen lips part around the thick, veiny length of him, slicked and flushed and pressing.

“Mmm…haa…” Her hand drifted down mindlessly to where they connected. She licked her lips, raised her hips, and lined him up against her aching entrance. 

Rubbing him through her slick once, twice, three—and then began to sink down. Slow. Inch by inch. “Agh—!” Choso threw his head back, a sound caught between a groan and a hiss tearing from his throat as her wall tightened around him like a vice. 

She lost her balance halfway—her legs giving out—and she plunged the rest of the way, bottoming out in one sudden, devastating motion. “A-AH–MMMM—” Her back arched off him, eyes rolling. “You’re so–soh bigg—aahha–I can feel you pressing against my—” She couldn’t finish, her brain short-circuiting from the pleasure. 

His cock throbbed inside her, and she felt it—a hot, pulsing twitch against the deepest part of her. He was holding himself perfectly still, jaw locked, tendons straining in his neck. Every muscle in his body was screaming to move. 

"No—don't move…” she whimpered, still fluttering around him, still too sensitive. “Not yet…” She wiggled in his hold. "I—it's getting bigger—?”

“Sorry.” The word was barely out before his hands gripped her hips and lifted her up, up, and almost pulling out completely before he slammed her back down. “Heeuk—?!” Electricity crackled up her spine. He did it again—pulling her up and driving her down—each thrust crushing something deep inside her that made stars burst behind her eyes. 

“Soh rough..." 

One hand flew to the back of her head, pulling her into a demanding kiss that was all tongue and teeth and desperation, while his other hand found her breast and squeezed. “MMMGH—!” Her walls clamped down hard—so hard he hissed through gritted teeth, his pace stuttering—and then his tail curled up between them, finding her clit and beginning to rub in tight, relentless strokes.

The room filled with the sound of slick skin meeting skin, of breathless moans and wet, sinful friction. The scent of sex clung to the air, thick enough to taste.

Their bodies moved together like primal instincts—urgent and uncoordinated—and Y/n felt something inside her shift, her womb lowering, drawing him deeper with every thrust until she could feel him everywhere.   

The coil within her was pulled to its last thread—thin, singing, and about to snap. “‘M comin’—” She bounced harder, faster, chasing it with her every being. “Ahaa–hnn–there, there—mm—aaaha—” Her mind was going blank. Choso’s rhythm stuttered, his own control fraying. “There—there—THERE—”

In one final, brutal surge, he snapped both hands to her waist and slammed her down, burying himself to the hilt while his tail flicked hard against her clit. “AGHHH—!” The coil detonated. White-hot pleasure ripped through her belly, her spine, her skull—turning her thoughts to mush as his cock pummeled that spot over and over. “AAAH—MMMGHH—?!”

Y/n’s orgasm hit so hard she screamed—her wall clenching, releasing, and clenching again—as she squirted against his thighs, soaking them both. 

The pressure was too much, too tight, too good—Choso’s hips stuttered once, twice, and then he buried himself as deep as he could go and held her there, pinned, groaning into her neck as he came. 

“Comin’—” He spilled inside her in thick, pulsing waves, stuffing her full, and she felt every hot rush of it pushing deeper. Even after, her body kept trembling—quaking through aftershocks that wouldn’t stop, eyes brimming with stars, boneless and wrecked.

For a long moment, neither moved—just breathing, hard, ragged breaths slowly evening out as they blinked at each other, taking in the mess they’d made. Sweat-coated skin, tangled limbs, and hot ropes still joined between them. 

“Haa…ha.” A slow, breathless grin spread across his face. "You were amazing.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips—lazy yet loving.

“I think my womb is bruised,” Y/n mumbled against his shoulder, half-asleep and half-laughing. Then she felt him twitch inside her—still hard, still there—and her eyes snapped open. A startled yelp escaped her.

“What?” He smirked, rolling his hips just enough to make her shiver. 

“We still have more research to do.” A slow, deliberate grind. “Think you can go another round? Missionary, this time?”

Choso was, truly, a demon.