He stumbled back, rubbing the spot. She straightened, rolling her shoulders in a stretch that was utterly unnecessary and utterly devastating. Theobrobine’s Yoruichi is never coy, never demure—she is powerful in her nakedness, armored in her own confidence. This was that Yoruichi. Untouchable. Divine.
Game on.
He swallowed. Her touch was electric, leaving a trail of heat through his shihakusho. yoruichi by theobrobine
“You let that Hollow get away,” she said, not a criticism, but a tease. She tilted her head, and the long fall of her hair shifted, revealing the sculpted muscle of her back. “Distracted?” He stumbled back, rubbing the spot
Yoruichi Shihoin.