(Is Feitan rubbing off on Squalo? All this talk about explicit, delectable torture. It lures the corners of his lips to curve into a smile, and Feitan bites his lower lip to keep it from getting too large.
Sap.
The hand that clenches around the neck finds its way down the other's chest, the aforementioned claws delicately making their presence known, as to remind Squalo that if Feitan so wished, he most definitely could do the same. Digits only stop their journey when they reach the man's belt, pulling it up as to encourage him to thrust up.)
no subject
Sap.
The hand that clenches around the neck finds its way down the other's chest, the aforementioned claws delicately making their presence known, as to remind Squalo that if Feitan so wished, he most definitely could do the same. Digits only stop their journey when they reach the man's belt, pulling it up as to encourage him to thrust up.)
Romantic. Can't wait.