#vexacus

“Maybe I should have worn lipstick, too,” you pondered aloud. “What colors go with that shade of purple?” 

Shimazu chuckled. A clawed hand rested on your coccyx before coaxing you to kneel next to him. Now you were both genuflected in front of Vexacus’s “claspers.” Unlike a feral shark, the bounty hunter’s members protruded at all times. 

Especially when he had two eager mouths before him. 

Shimazu’s hand remained on your back, giving you gentle scratches before resting on your shoulder.