#head and shoulders pattern

[10bmnews]

Crypto Expert Puts Ethereum Price At $19,500 With Head And Shoulders Emergence

Reason to trust Strict editorial policy that focuses on accuracy, relevance, and impartiality Created by industry experts and meticulously reviewed The highest standards in reporting and publishing Strict editorial policy that focuses on accuracy, relevance, and impartiality Morbi pretium leo et nisl aliquam mollis. Quisque arcu lorem, ultricies quis pellentesque nec, ullamcorper eu…

[wifeiy]

hehehehe i love You my summer !!!🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

u have probably heard/read me say 90% of these yet I still ran out of tags SOMEHOW. one of tehse days we will be together when it rains and Won't that be lovely day. also ride your wave + maquia + eeaao + your name (idk y). Ok i willstop rhere fr. see u in like 10 hours. HEH.

TELL ME WHAT YOU ASSOCIATE WITH ME

COLORS, SONGS, AESTHETICS, PEOPLE, ANYTHTING

[10bmnews]

Bitcoin Rally Cools Off After Hitting Record $123,000, Analyst Sees $148K Target

Last Updated:July 15, 2025, 11:09 IST Bitcoin’s price dropped 5% to $117,547.26 after a record high of $123,000. Trading volume surged 190% in 24 hours. Analysts still see potential targets of $148K. Bitcoin price cools off after touching the record high. (Representative/Shutterstock) Bitcoin Price Today: Bitcoin rally cooled off on Tuesday to fall almost 5 per cent after hitting the record…

[learn-trading-strategy]

Head and Shoulders Turned Upside Down – A Bullish Reversal Pattern Explained

Charting patterns come in many forms. Some are complex, others straightforward—but all help traders read market movements. One such pattern is the inverted head and shoulders, a powerful signal that a downtrend may be ending.

Inverse Head and Shoulders Pattern

Also known as:

Inverse Head and Shoulders

Reverse Head and Shoulders

Head and Shoulders Inverted

This pattern can appear in forex, stocks, crypto, and commodities.

[tonycries]

ATTACK ON P*SSY!

Synopsis. He’s a 10 but when you ask him to be rough…he goes rough.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rough s, headlocks, hard and fast, manhandIing, dóggy, GOJO’S POWERS, tummy buIges, spítting, dúmbifícation, MARATHONS, jealous s (Nanami’s side), chokíng, leaving marks, cúmplay, p talking, breéding, cervíx kíssing, true form Sukuna, dp, Ino cries, pússydrunk men, they go FÉRAL, p sIapping, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Lmk if you get the Love and Deepspace reference in Nanami’s heh.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Twisterrr!

“So…my girl wants it rough, huh?” Toji’s scarred lips tickle precisely the most sensitive spots on your neck, making him depart a husky snicker. “Heh- stop talkin’ outta ya pussy, mama.”

Your spit-glittered mouth formulates into a pout, hazy peripherals darting over your shoulder and towards your leering boyfriend. Hot. Each syllable hitched with whines, “I-I’m not. I reeeally want it r-”

“When ya can’t even handle this?” 

He’s cutting your babbling off with an utterly mean drive of his hips, thoroughly opening up your clingy walls with the curvaceous tip crowning his shaft. Probing n’ probing until he’s pressing a sweet, sweet smooch lovingly on your g-spot. 

Holding it there, unmoving. 

Rendering you so stupid with only a single thrust that you feel yourself tremble like a leaf once he’s gritting out a low, “Oh? She got even ngh- wetter.” And before you know it, a lengthy foot is being pressed right along the middle of your spine. Strong, rugged palms pulling and pulling on your upper-arms to bend you into such a lecherous arch-

“Fine. Brace yourself, doll.”

And Toji barely even gives your popped ears the time to hear his rasped-out promise let alone register it- fuck, you should consider yourself lucky that he gave you a warning in the first place. 

Because Toji Fushiguro was fucking you like he hated you. 

His blushing mushroom head was as red as a strawberry, and just as thick - whacking against the poor bullseye of your tenderest nooks n’ crannies repeatedly until your tastebuds simply drowned in saliva. 

Until you were throwing your head back with a thick gasp, “T-Tooooji- like that. J-just like that.”

“Just like hah! that?” He’s crooning from behind, planting a peck near your jaw. You feel so dirty when his foot strikes down to bow you even deeper into the perfect geometrical curvature, “Bend. Bend f’me a little more- yeahhh, just like that. M’only getting started, mama.” 

Fuck, what?

Toji finds himself smiling all dopily at the tiny sob that slips through your cracked lips. Your glassy eyes wide, thighs shivering against his meaty ones, stringy wads of drool slipping and sliding in thin trails down either cute side of your maw. 

So pretty. 

“Whaaaat? D-don’t tell me this ngh- needy pussy-” And just as rude Toji talked, he pounded into you even ruder. Swollen, heavy cock now smearing streaks of sappy pre that stick on top of your g-spot like glue. “-can’t-” Hard. Merciless. So full and dumbstruck, you can only mewl when his big, beefy biceps ‘round you grow tighter. Bulging out large bruises on your heated skin, “-handle it?”

“I can I can—” You’re shaking your head like a rattle, vision fuzzy with tears and the arousal of his drenched black pubes scratching your violently papping mounds raw. 

He coos, “Mhm, and this pretty pussy hck! won’t cum immediately?”

“Won’t-” You’re choking out, words getting stuck in the leaden ball in your throat when he angles his bloated cock to stroke the roof of your gummy walls. Puffed-up veins massaging every treasure trove of orifices in that delicious zigzag pattern of his. 

“Hmm— dunno if I ngh- believe you.” 

“P-promise.” Hips swiveling back into his in a lazy back and forth that slaps your ass into his toned abs, every murked pant you’re letting off matches the creaking bedsprings of Toji’s mattress. Sniffling, “Give it t’me. Fuh-fuck me rougher pleeease-”

You bite down on your slackened lower lip as soon as he graces your throbbing cunt with a claggy spank. Still being plastered against Toji’s slick, glissading front with one hand of his hands manhandling both of yours to pin behind your back.

You can feel the sloshing whoosh of his buttery precum dripping out of you, coating your inner thighs with such carnal need. 

He chortles something dangerous, and you don’t have to ogle behind at Toji to know that he had his eyes dead set on the prize. Right on your sobbing pussy. “Well…since ya said h-heh ‘please.’”

Within two bats of your tear-lathered lashes, Toji’s unclasping his vice-like restraint on your arms to let you fall onto the cacophonous bed like a delicate piece of domino. Tittering.

Waiting the few sultry nanoseconds it takes for your brows to knit into an adorable furrow, waiting until that disappointed groan is just building up in your throat- before he’s shoving your sweat-shimmered face into the pillows and rutting.

“Jeez, mama-” You hear Toji drawl out through the muffling cotton in your ears, low baritone barely audible over the furious thwack! of his full, rounded breeder balls spanking your thighs. “Told you you’d cum ngh- immediately.”

Fuck. 

Fuck.

And it’s only then that you realize that you are cumming - white-hot bliss flashing behind your flapping lids, your hips struggling to push and push off of the soaked sheets while he draaaaags out your high.

You’re grappling onto the headboard for dear life. For anything grounding, because right now you’re so weak you think you might just break. “Toji- Tooooji…c-cumming. M’cumming-”

“Shut up.” Toji hisses through gleaming, clenched teeth. Gone. Bosomy tip French kissing pinpricks of pre into your g-spot with every quiver of your high, and no matter how much you’re clenching your glutinous walls around him, he’s still driving out and in through the resistance so solidly deep. “Told you- told you.”

Before you can snipe back, his palm roughly plummets down on the sweaty crown of your head. Forcing you to bite on a mouthful of satiny pillowcase, forcing you to shut up. 

To shut up so that he can slouch back and loll his greedy gaze to your gulping cunt, aftershocks of your orgasm so strong that he could count every time your saturated folds twitched. And he did count. 

Five times in all before grumbling, “Told ‘er- didn’t I, p-pretty girl?” Not at you - but at your sloppy pussy. Who seemed more than happy to talk back in wet squelches upon squelches every time he was poking his veins into your gushing entrance. “Yeah- yeahhh I did, you’re so right.”

“Toji mmpf-”

“Wanted it rough, s-so now you’re gonna get it.” Toji’s every word rips out in a primal growl, and you feel your creaking bed snap! somewhere in the distance. Broken. A foot making its lecherous home on your head, hard. “Brace yourself, doll.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Jealousy, jealousy

“P-please.” You’re whispering with your jaw hanging foolishly open, warbly tone right on the verge of breaking because your husband’s in so deep. So…insatiable. “You can be ngh- rougher today, Ken—”

“R-rougher?” Nanami’s echo comes out ragged, carnal. As strained as his sanity was beginning to feel right now when you were underneath him and begging so prettily like this. He dips a sensual peck near one of your ankles dangling off of his sculptured shoulders, “I don’t want to hurt you, my love. Or leave any marks that…” Pearly whites clenching, seethingly. “-others can see.”

And oh, Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Nanami Kento was patient with you. 

Always. 

But not with any touchy new co-worker of yours that just-so-happened to hang around you way too fucking often for his taste. 

No, one singular mention of him and he’d dragged you to your shared bedroom to bend you into a filthy, filthy mating press until your melty, cotton-filled brain had completely n’ utterly forgotten just how your day had gone.

Until you were fidgeting the doughy heels of your feet against his curvaceous back muscles, “B-but I want it, baby.” Spit-shimmering lips automatically pulling into one of his weaknesses: your pout. “I want you t-to make me yours.”

At this, Nanami flinches. 

He blushes - a cute blossomy red that scorches across his cheeks and all the way to the tips of his ears, already drenched with thin ribbons of sweat. 

With a deeeep gulp, he croaks out. “...M-mine.” Swallowing a webbed mass of saliva that waters his tastebuds once. Twice. Before tenderly cupping your boneless legs and smearing them so wiiidely agape that they start to burn. Just the mere sinful action makes your pussylips let off a soppy squelch! “Arch f’me then, darling.”

You’re blinking, buzzing eardrums unsure of what you’d oh-so-clearly just heard departing Nanami’s parted lips. “What?”

“Didn’t tell you to question me. Did I, my love?” He hisses, the very fringe of his mouth curling into a sleazy grin at your adorably shocked expression. Rovering down to palm your lower tummy, opened flat and pressed against that thick, cylindrical outline he was fucking into you hard. “Better.”

Oh…he was feeling himself inside you. Caressing your tummy bulge with sheer loving, making your gluey walls stick to his solidly ridged shaft like you were keeping him hostage. 

“Who s’fucking you deep inside?” He flicks the curved mushroom tip bumping through you, dabbing every inch inside you. Sleazy. Sloppy. Molten eyes half-shuttering until he looks so ruined. Fuck. “Who? Me or him?”

Your eyes blearily cross and uncross, the pressure of it so much. “Wh-who- who’s him-”

“Talking about another man when you’re with me,?”

Before you can gather your bearings, before you can even gasp in a lungful of shocked air at the gesture - Nanami shocks your throb-throb-throbbing clit with a sloooow drag of his metallic wedding ring. Smudging a cute, wettened heart right where you were the utmost sensitive. 

“Pleeease-”

“Speak up.”

“I want-”

“Hmmm…what was that?” He’s striking the bulging patch of your g-spot with an achy glide of his bawling wet divot as soon as you open your mouth. Nanami was shutting you up with his fat, vein-covered cock not just once, not just twice- but three whole times before humming. “My apologies. Can’t hear you over ngh- her, darling.”

How could you ever underestimate just how strong your husband was? How rough he could really be. 

Thickened, meaty thighs flex in tightened knots once his hips drive into yours viciously. Every harrowed pap! of his tawny happy trail scratching your slobbery folds open and leaving your mouth parched. 

Whack after whack of his plump, split-ended tip scraping your magical spots expertly. And you couldn’t even predict when the next recurring strike would commence because your dazed eyes were sprinting all the way to the back of your head. 

You could count eight of his Herculean abs in total, all of them cutting into your front and working to pin down your squirming hips. To stop you from getting more more more- “Fuuuck me. J-just want more-”

“Hmmm?”

“Ngh- I said m-more!” You yelp, breaths turning desperate and wheezing once he scrambles - scrambles - over the dewy, rumpled-up bedsheets to recover his favorite yellowy tie. 

Immediately looping it around your delicate neck. Your fluttery lungs fight for gaspfuls of air once he’s leveraging it to drag you alllll the way up off of the claggy pillows- he was bringing you to him.

“Now, whisper it nicely in my hah- ear, my wife. Tell me exactly what you want.” Nanami’s panted puffs cloud your brain with heat and need and him. Before you know it, you’re already nudging your lolled head up to his ear. “There we go, upsy daisy. That’s a good girl.”

And all you can manage out is a slow, simpering gasp of syllables that sounded something like more!

But that’s all it takes.

All it takes for him to reel his greedy hips back, back, back until the very crown of his bloated cock was smooching your ringed hole. Spraying out sheen after sheen of sweltering hot pre that coats your cunt n’ slides right inside.

Timed exactly with the pace that Nanami himself picks up, barrelling out battering rams that indent his rotund circumference into your spongy cervix. 

“Mhmmm, knew I’d h-have ya begging f’me–” Nanami coos something gravelly, holding your weakened head up to nuzzle sweet peck after peck on your lips. Shit, he’s even taking dirty lappings of the puddles of drool geysering from past your slack mouth. “Me. Me- right?” 

“Y-yes.” You’re yelping once his relentless digits tighten on his tie, cutting off your winded breaths. Choking you. “You- you, Kento.”

Soft, padded fingers just finish drawing an obvious NK on your hooded nub- was he writing his name on your clit? “That’s riiiight, s’Kento. Kento’s here for you, my love.” Punctured with sappy snogs - on your lips, inside your leaking pussy. “Kento, no one else.”

“Ngh- n-no one else.” Tiny whimpers crack within your throat when you feel the swampy splat! of slick pouring more n’ more out of you and drenching him from abdomen to his twitching ballsack. Babbling, “You- Kennn—”

“Cute- mine. You’re my wife.”

“All yours.”

“H-heh, bet ya can’t even remember now- What was damn fucker- coworker’s name again?”

“Oh.” Nanami almost asks you to marry him all over again at the way your brows have to furrow, head shaking from side to cockdrunken side to clear your poor lil’ head. It takes a copious vicious pounds into the mattress to even recall the answer to his question. “Right! He said his name was Zayne…from Linkon City.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “Ya like that?”

Fuck- if the way whines pour from your overflooded lips wasn’t enough of an answer, then the syrupy slick constantly leaking out of you sure was. 

Your bawling cunt was all but having a conversation with Geto, all stuttered slurps n’ squelches that rung like music within his red-tipped ears. And he’s lurching his head in a sudden nod, pearly white teeth all on gleaming display when he ogles a fat dollop of sap and spit slithering down your thighs slooowly.

“Y-yes!” You’re crawling towards the shuddering mahogany headboard, ringing with violent creaks after every pound. “Yes yes yes- I like it, Suguru–”

“Heh, fuuuuck yeah you do.” He doesn’t even bat an eye before hooking a hand on your waist and dragging you all the way back down. “S’supposed to be a punishment but yer such a slut when you’re hck! thrown around.” Smooching a frosty thumb all down your silvery slit, he snickers once he feels your cute insides clench on instinct around him. “Then again…”

Without a singular warning, without even a shred of hesitation, a firm arm roams over to your throat. Tight. 

But Geto doesn’t just hold you- no, that would’ve been much too nice for him. Instead, he’s pushing the curvy mounds of his biceps ‘round your pretty neck like some sort of necklace - trapping you in a fucking headlock. 

You’re plastered like glue against his glissading front, and you think you’ve never been wetter as you’re massaged by his ridged abs. Thin trailways of boiling hot sweat streaming between his cushy pecs and hitting at your backside with a plap! plap! plap!

Voice hoarse in your ear. Low. “There we go. Theeeeere we go. How about this? Ngh- ya like-” Squeezing his arm even tighter until bursts of remaining air leave your lungs. You could feel every twitch, every flex of toned flesh hot against your own. “-that?”

A sob lets off from your stupidly unhinged lips, “Y-yes– I like it-”

“Greedy fuckin’ girls shouldn’t answer.” He’s promptly cutting you off, both with his deep bass and his deeper strokes. Immediately oozing a tiny heart of sticky pre inside, “I was hah- talking to my lady down here.”

You practically shiver at the feeling of his burnished lilac eyes coursing down to your prettily dripping cunt, and just at that moment he hits your cervix with a sloshing spank. 

Filthy. 

A thumb dips down to pry your treacly folds apart, Geto’s pinkish tongue slobbering down his grinning lips at the sight of you swallowing him like mad. The sight of your arched back dappling with perspiration after every vulgar swerve of your hips trying to keep up with his. Needy. 

“Mmmm yeah. She’s ngh- likin’ it alright. Look at her-” Sickly sweet strands of juices dangle off of his padded fingers like gum, so wet that his wrist gleams glossily. He just can’t help but lurch his head over to streamline a viscid web of saliva right on your sloppy hole, “-she’s a damn waterpark f’me.”

You keen at the back of your throat, spittle spraying a sheen all over Geto’s veiny forearm with a splash! “S-so mean, Sugu–”

“Mean? Mean?” 

Something resounds like a growl at the back of your boyfriend’s throat, and only numerous sticky swats of his rounded balls later do you realize - that was a giggle. A giggle. 

“H-hear that? My girl’s sayin’ I’m mean.” Another thwack of weepy spit hits your cunt, and the saccharine sweet gasp you take is delicious. Headlocking you tighter- “Oh, gorgeous. You asked to be punished with it r-rough. And you’re ah- getting it- fucking- rough-”

Rasping and ragged and gone. Utterly gone. 

If this was supposed to be a punishment then you’d gladly take more.

Geto was pounding into you viciously now, rattling your cottony brain with every sharp slap of his fattened crownhead. Probing deeply into your warm innards to spread apart tender nooks and crannies you didn’t even know existed. 

You were nodding like a stupid bobblehead, letting his veiny cock bloat n’ balloon up inside you- shit, the banging flesh where your ass met his silky pubes was rubbed raw by now.

A hoarse bark of laughter flees Geto’s lips once he realizes, immediately angling his rude pelvis just so he can grind purposefully against your agitated skin. It’s so cute the way your moans pitch even deafeningly higher at the texture. 

Sliding his strawberry pink divot juuuust off your magical spot, he rolls his eyes. “Seeeee? N’ you s-say I’m mean.”

At that very moment, you think you’re seeing stars. The only sensations ripping through your mind being the Earth-shattering cadence that Geto was fucking into you, and the soft tickle of his long, beautiful locks curtaining your spine.

You’re tugging mindlessly on one of his inky tendrils, dazed peripherals sliding to a flushed Geto. That split-second of direct eye contact enough to make his base swell- “P-pretty.”

Oh, fuck.

Fuck.

With a wicked slam! Geto’s both burying himself inside till the very hilt - straining your rubbery walls until you were whining at the hefty weight of him - and burying your face into the cushy pillow. His savage palm clawing and clawing at your head while he fucking cums, in the filthiest and most surprising way that fills your gooey cunt until you were overspilling. 

Just from that. 

“P-pull my hair-” He gasps - just barely audible enough that once you do, it makes a creamy coating of even more ribbony seed slip into your entrance. More and more and more. A steaming hot mess that makes you squirm-

“No. No.” Geto gasps - he begs. 

And you don’t think he even registers that he’s promptly slamming a firm foot down on your head to pin you pliably down and make you take it. 

This newer angle floods your orifice with such generous helpings that Geto feels his taste buds drench in water, sighing lovingly at the sight of your inner thighs being glued together by his sap. 

He’s stepping your head even deeper into the sullied pillowcase once he hears you snicker. Shutting you up. Meaty thighs shivering, emptied balls twitching sensitively at the slap of saliva he spits once more on your entrance. 

Gritting through furiously clenched teeth, “Oh, you are s-so getting hngh! pregnant tonight, gorgeous.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - OLFACTORY ETHICS?!

“B-baby…” Choso’s sharp canines snaggle on the drenched fabric of your panties, broad chest heaving in ragged huffs! as your roommate gulps in a deeeep inhale- and his mouth just drops. “Oh, baby.”

You smelled so sweet. 

His favorite perfume - so good that it makes his pearly whites clench down and bite. 

He’s smearing his favorite pair of your pretty pink silk all down the lower half of his handsome face, where it’d mostly glued to ever since you’d caught him stealing your underwear not too long ago. 

Where it’d been since he’d blushed n’ begged for you to punish him.

And you’d known exactly how. 

“Just fuck me, Cho–” You’re crooning, the pretty sound of your voice itching something deeply primal in his mind and making him twitch. Full-bodied. Making his achingly hard cock bulge a few millimeters even wider n’ girthier, carnally desperate. “Fuuuuck— C’mon now- you can do it.”

“L-like this?” He’s whispering, all muffled and breathy. Darkened mahogany eyes lock in direct contact with yours as he’s rubbing the ridges of his veined shaft along the sticky slope of your pussy. “Tell me- use me.”

“Mhmm— you’ve got it, baby. Rough now, m’kay?” 

“R-rough…”

Slipping and sliding, his hips feel frenzied already. Tapping out a few fat globs of pre from that slobbering orifice nestled on top of his crownhead, Choso can’t help but thumb each bead past your sloppy hole.  

“G-gonna fuck you now.” He’s hiccuping out cloudy syllables, piping hot bursts of air that fan your face and make you shiver. And he notices, oh, he notices and flushes. “Gonna fuck- fuck you, baby…”

Choso’s jaw remains almost permanently unhinged as he watches his globular tip push past your teensy resistance, the clingy surface of your cunt molding and melting around him. Hot. Puffed-up pussy lips stretched wiiidely agape, your hole quivers with every one of his prominent veins scraping their way inside. 

A whine cracks at the back of his throat-

Shit, was this heaven?

Through half-lidded peripherals he’s stealing looks your way to confirm that you weren’t actually an angel. 

Wet tongue lolling out to give your leaky mouth a big kiss, “S’this- this-” And just then Choso’s rumbling baritone is so hot that it makes you clench - and him to jerk into a rut- 

He really was out of control now. 

“Oh.” He’s trailing off, hitting the damp ends of your pussy and he fucking sees white. Every inch that you’re flawlessly gulping down making him swoon into you, “Ohhhh fuck wait- fuck fuck fuck—”

Hard. 

Fast. 

Choso was sloppy, letting his sensory tips dangle near your hips while he bludgeoned you with every sultry second. Using his lean muscular strength to pull your ass down to slap n’ slap against his pelvis. 

Pumping his probing mushroom tip deeper until you swear you could taste every sappy ribbon of milky precum he was pounding into you. Until his sculpted abs were being struck ruby red at the stinging drives.

“This good? M’I good for you?” He makes such a messy puddle of slick pour from between your bloated folds, hitting a fat thumb over the gloopy mess. Your buzzing ears ring with the wet pap! “S’this r-rough, baby?”

“Fuck- ngh- f-fuuuuck, Choso—” Truthfully, you could barely even speak. The only thing able to escape your mouth being jumbles of fucked-out syllables and gluey drool. You whimper with each whack of his fat cock, “Faster-” 

Combing through Choso’s silky bangs, you tug away the stray strands plastered to his sweat-slicked forehead. An action enough to make him burn as bright red as his sobbing tip, leaning further into yours with his utterly ripped front. 

“M-more, baby.”

It’s the only thing that’s falling from your lips before nothing else can anymore. 

Because your dear roommate is taking the kindly time to slap over his palm on top of your mouth - sodden panties and all. 

Damn, was it a sight that made his dewy cockhead twitch dangerously in warning. 

Muffling your lecherous words with the stringy scrap of fabric, he grumbles. “Sh-shut up, baby- another word out of you n’ I ngh! w-won’t last much longer.”

Though- fuck, if he wasn’t weak whenever it came to you.

Because as he feels your steamy maw loosen - droplets of spit dripping down to lather his doughy palm - Choso finds himself inching in closer. Bubblegum pink nipples rubbing sensitively against your front when he leans in and listens-

You’re batting your lashes up at him, “Want- want it all inside, Cho.”

Oh. 

Oh, and when Choso cums it’s with his pussydrunken head buried into the delicate crook of your neck, sharp fringes of his teeth sinking so roughly into the side of your urgent pulse that you think it might draw iron-tasted blood. 

“T-take it.” His voice lilts unstably a few octaves higher, massive hands manhandling the legs looping his feet - pushing and pushing and pushing until your capped knees hit your tits. Veins popping out of his own neck, hard. “Every last fucking drop.”

It’s burst after burst. 

The curving globe of his plump head batters out stripes of hot cum with every single thrust, drilling right past the gluey maze of your walls to leave syrupy white splotches on your cervix that you feel coat your cunt in a sloppy second skin. Messy. 

You claw your hands down Choso’s flexing back and it makes his eyes burst with white-hot stars of pleasure. “Yeah- yeah. I-inside, baby- don’t miss.”

Hypnotically, he drags the simmering pads of his tongue right along your all-new bite mark. Possessive. The entrails of your panties still dangling haphazardly from one side of your mouth-

Choso feels his heart race when he bites down on the silken edges; letting it stretch stretch stretch before he spits your slutty underwear aside.

“Oh, baby.” Snogging away the wires of spit that sliver from between your lips, “Was- was that rough ‘nough.” He murmurs in concern against your lips, eyes daring to dart all over his animalistic marking. And then he slouches backwards to tilt further down. “Didn’t wanna-”

He takes one heartbeat - two - simply staring at the frosty ivory rings of cum that spilled out of your pussy. A mess that he had to blame for.

And when Choso looks back up at you, it’s through pure heart eyes. “A-actually, I don’t think that was ngh- rough enough, baby…”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Pony.

“Mmmm- my human’s always so sweet.” Sukuna’s sheeny glossed lips pry apart the heated folds between your legs, his long sultry tongue lapping up every bead n’ ribbon of cum pouring out of your cunt. “Sooo fuckin’ sweet.”

And just as monstrously big as his height was, his tongue was certainly not to disappoint. 

You yelp once the split-ended pads of his tastebuds swirl allll the way inside your dripping pussy, round and round. Poking and prodding into sweet geysering spots that he knew would make your pretty lil’ mind useless. 

One big, beefy hand of his roams up to curl around your throat and keep your dazed eyes dead locked on the slicked mess the king was making out of your sugary sweet pussy. Unmoving. 

“Y-you’re so…” You’re drawling, words so drunken that it’s like they were clinging to your hoarse throat. Your mouth simply hangs at the sight of Sukuna constricting his tongue to let creamy oodles of his seed from hours before sliiiiide all down to his parched throat like a runway. “-filthy, Kuna.”

“H-heh.”

He doesn’t get up until you’re all thoroughly cleaned up, every dollop of thick cum lapped away from your overstimulated entrance.  

Hell, you don’t even think Sukuna can think until he pulls away with a drenched plop! Stringy cobwebs of fluids sticking to his face as if some sort of lipgloss. 

A bulky second hand of his leaves a spank right on your throbbing clit, and within the blink of an eye you’re being scooped up into Sukuna’s arms. Nestled right against his cushy pecs - his two achingly hard cocks-

And when he kisses you it’s a reminder - letting your maw slide over the caramel salted splotches homed inside his mouth. Savoring it just as much as he was savoring you. 

Just as much as he wanted to ruin you.

Your spine arches with a scorched breeze as he inches in to grunt against your ear. Low. Prowling. “Callin’ me filthy when you’re the one leaking with my cum, brat.”

“W-well, not anymore because- fuck!”

“Quarrelsome.” He remarks over your shrill wails, toned muscles on his thighs flexing when he grabs the sweaty crown of your head and pushes you down, down, down onto his rock-hard dicks. Every gust of your heady breaths fucked out of you with just a few swallowed inches of his looong vein-decorated shafts. “I should fuck that outta ya.”

He’s bouncing his tattooed legs in a quick, harsh one-two one-two one-two. Panting, leering at the primal squeeeealch–! that rings in his ears.

Capped fringes of his knees smack against the sexy curve of your ass, the relentless little motions push past that tiny resistance and swivel Sukuna’s proudly swollen crowns all ‘round your bruised insides. 

Bulging you open, prying your sticky insides apart until he had you seated all prettily on his lap and whimpering.

“Ride it then, pretty mama. Show me what that ngh- needy human pussy can do.” Sukuna grumbles through a teeth-clenched lil’ grin, halfway through breaking into a soppy smile when your cute noises only get louder. He slouches backwards into the centuries-old headrest so that he won’t miss a single second of your sensual show, “N’ remember- I like fucking rough. I like fucking hard.”

“R-rough?” You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, gulping needily at the way his corded muscles flex underneath your touch. Legs already twitching as you swerve needily, aching once more for that splitting sensation of him plunging oh-so-deep inside. “Fuck- fuuuuuck, Kuna-”

You could already feel the fat bulbs of his tips grow even fuller, snagging right onto the crevices of your g-spot and tugging. He barely even has to try to make your head fill with stupid fuzz.

“Ya call this rough, lil’ human?” He’s spitting into your open mouth, grabbing a handful of your ass and making your clit smear down his tufts of curly pink. Gyrating n’ gyrating. “Seriously- s’embarrassing the king.”

“Th-then you-”

Just at that moment, he’s digging two hands on either side of your hips to slam! them down onto his. Hard. Stinging. Rubbing over the tenderized globeful of your ass before doing it again. Again. And again and again and-

“This is h-how ya fuck rough, pretty mama.” You swear Sukuna’s smirked grin was glistening with a thin trail of dumbstruck drool. “Feel good? Feel the sting? The way m’all deep inside-” Staring down at your cute, cross-eyed expression, he taps a plumply padded finger halfway down your tummy. “-here?”

You’re overstimulated, sensitive. The only thing you can do is nod. Nodding and nodding while a flash of smugness flickers in his crimson eyes. “Count.”

Oh? Oh.

And it’s only when his two matching cocks plant vicious pounds right where he’d marked - only when he slurs out a wet stripe of pre that drenches your pussy from the inside out - that you realize what he meant.

“O-one-”

“Too late. Two.” 

Sukuna grits out, practically mocking you. Numbering away every time his bawling divots were whacking your spongy cervix. The lightning-bolted veins on his lengths scrape every carnal spot he could reach - which was all of them.

“Three- ah! Four.” You mewl out, legs scrambling to latch around his tensing core when you’re struck with another one, two, three bludgeons of his girthy circumferences. It’s enough to make you dizzy, and it’s purely on autopilot that you let off soft gasps of, “Si- s-seven?”

Snickering, “Yer finally haaaah- gettin’ it.” The cushioned mattress rings with creak after creak as he repeatedly bucks. “Put yer back into it, brat.” 

“Ngh! Eight-”

“Mhm.”

“N-nine…”

“Mhm.”

Your papping flesh stings at the ferocious contact, already rubbed raw that when Sukuna swats a rude palm against your pussymound - you find yourself sobbing. Big, fat tears of salt, “Ten!”

“Nuh uh- that counts as hah- eleven.” 

Fuck- he has to stop himself from snickering. He has to stop himself from drooling through both cracked mouths, already missing the taste of you. If you looked closely, you could see the cursed mouth across his abs licking its lips greedily. Grinning. “Now cum f’me before I put my tongue in, too.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - Blush blush blush!

“Here?”

“Taku.”

“Or here?”

“Takuuu–!”

“Orrrrr–” Ino’s tossing his chestnut bangs out of his face to see your cute face better, snickering to himself as he lets his ramming cockhead draw a looong wet trailway to your cervix. Sweltering hot and heavy, slithering right past your precious g-spot. “-here?”

Your gooey walls twitch instinctively around him. “N-noooo-”

Pressing down. Hard. “What’s that? Oh yeah, here. Right?”

You’re huffing and puffing something that sounds like a quivering ‘please’, wobbly lips bitten between the ends of your teeth until Ino pries them free n’ sucks. 

“Hmmm. What was that?” His drenched, bawling divot rubs out a fat thud! mere millimeters above where you were aching for him the most. Again. Purposefully. 

“S-so mean.” You whimper for just about the nth time tonight as his deeply probing dick pushes against your gummy walls, stretching out the hidden crevices. Prominent veins almost massaging your magical spots but not quite. Tease. “All I did was c-call you ngh- pretty.”

Fuck, there it is again.

And it doesn’t matter how many times the very syllables have departed from your unsteady lips - Ino Takuma still blushed a cute, maidenly pink from apples of his handsome cheeks right down to his collarbones.

Breath hitching, nose bridge crinkling. If he was any weaker man he might just have cum—

He whacks the spherical bulge of his plumpened cockhead into you until your peripherals are teary. Hefty balls so fat that you feel the side of them flinch tenderly against your dripping cunt.

“Sh-shut up.” He’s shivering, teeth grit to stop himself from slipping out a strained keen. Those pretty fawn eyes of Ino’s slide all the way to the back of his throat when you slink a hand underneath the dark ski mask capped on his crown n’ caress. “Gonna- gonna fuck you until you haaah- forget that, sweetness. Gonna fuck you dumb.”

Your awestruck tastebuds fizzle with the taste of his splattered precum sloshing! inside you, watery trickles of saliva travelling all the way down to where your chin was smushed against your chest.

Where Ino was folding you into a mating press so tight that you could feel your ears pop after every pressurized thrust. 

He was being so…frenzied. 

Manhandling you to every whim and want, you were fallen onto the bedsheets delicately whilst he handled you like some ragdoll. And you’d never seen him act this vehement, this filthy, clapping his toned thighs noisily against yours. 

“N’ for that…” His sing-song bass tickles the precious soft spots near your neck, rearing to give your molten tongue tiny suckles. “M’not hittin’ that c-cute g-spot any time tonight.” 

It wasn’t simply a threat - he meant it.

He was stroking the slick-glittered mushroom head of his shaft over n’ over into every nook and cranny inside of you except your g-spot. Every rut so greedy that his buttery streaks of pre were piling on near that particular orifice. 

Drowning you.

Ino feels his heart race at the sultry little jitters you give him; your poor body torn between digging your heels into his tense shoulders and pushing him away or pap-pap-papping your ass down for more. 

“Now now, where are you goinggg—” He doesn’t waste any fucking time rounding a hand behind his head and lassoing you ankles within a few slender digits. Trapping you. Dragging you until the backs of your thighs were clapping in a standing ovation against his. “Fuck that pussy back. C’mon. C’mon, pretty.”

“P-pleeeease, Taku-” You can’t even bring yourself to be an ounce ashamed at the whiny pleas that invade your voice. “S-so close, baby- want it. Want it so bad.”

“Fuh-fuck…” He’s breathing out, mouth drier than a desert at the way you had him so weak. His prominent hip bones pat down your pelvis and leave your mouth gasping into perfect ohs! “Fuckin’ evil ya are. How bad do you want it?”

“S-soooo badly.”

“Hmmm, I dunno- where are those manners?”

“Please!”

“Hmmm?”

Oh, how he could feel his abs tense dangerously at the mixture of annoyance and depravity twisting your beautiful face.

“...w-with a cherry on ngh- top.”

“Mhm, n’ you’re gonna take it nicely?” Ino spreads your legs open a little wider, rocking and rocking. And you’re so wet - even wetter than the splattering pools of slick spittle that splosh out of your other set of lips. So sensitive. “Take it like my pretty c-cockslut?” 

You can’t mumble out anything through the thickly rounded fingertips that smush your cheeks together into a pout he almost finds adorable. “Y-yesh— give it t’me, pleeease?”

Fine. And then he does it - finally gives you exactly what you’ve been craving carnally all this time. Striking it right on the bullseye, like you knew he could.

Just a bump up of his plump, curvaceous tip into your splotchy g-spot and you’re halfway through screaming. Struggling and struggling your legs jerkily at the bolting shocks of your orgasm and Ino just doesn’t let up.

He keeps your ankles locked no matter how much you fidget, he keeps the vicious push of his leaking cock into your most favorite spots like it was a button. 

Fuck, it was almost too much.

Gritting his teeth through the sloshing figure-eights your hips swerve through every peak of your high, you’re milking yourself on his throbbing shaft so good that Ino forces himself to tip a hand towards his cottony mask and pull down-

“Taku–?” You’re questioning out in warbly tones once your vision was being blinked back, high tapering out into flimsy tingles that still manage to make your toes curl. 

Before you can stop yourself, your sensory pads flit over to his ski mask to tug away. And boy, were you fucking glad for that.

Because you’d never seen Ino so flushed. So ruined. 

He was like a picture. A red, red gale overtaking his twitching features ‘nough that you could connect the constellations of his freckles.

Caramel brows furrowed tightly knit, tawny lashes flapping his eyelids almost shut. His cherry pink lips looked so kissable; swollen and glossed in slimy spit and- and overstimulated tears.

All ready and awaiting the way you drag him back by the hair and gift his pinkish tongue with a wad of spit. Groaning.  

“My pretty boy.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Starboy

You’re stuffed.

So stuffed with heaps upon heaps of Gojo’s slick cum and yet he was still possessing a massive hand clawing at your hips. The only thing holding you fucking upright while he drills his overworked cock into you, furiously. 

“T-Tooru—” Your sentence punctures with every hitch of your wheezing lungs, and you can barely see two inches in front of you let alone swivel your head back to stare at the strongest. Keening groggily, “How are you s-still even hck! going?”

He doesn’t answer. Fuck, you don’t even think he can even hear you right now.

But the way your voice pitches into a pretty whine makes him flinch. Buckling on your knobbly knees, you can feel the steamed handprints imprinted on either side of your papping mounds of flesh. 

Dizzy peripherals flickering to the side you gasp- he was leaving scorching hot marks on you. All nice, shapely lengths of his five digits. 

Gojo’s snickering- snickering through one of his ragged scoffs, and he rests his towering bodyweight until it was lounging on the base of your cutely arched spine. He’s shivering. Strained. “S’not enough.” 

Not enough? 

And at this point, your muddled mind is overtaken with the dawning realization that nothing might be enough for a freshly-unsealed Gojo Satoru.

Even though his raw cock was so red n’ swollen already, pulsing out inside you to the same ba-dump–! of your pulse rate. The fat lightning bolts of his veins angle oh-so-deeply against your g-spot. Everywhere and anywhere. 

And Gojo only has to trace a few greedy fingers down to feel the dewy trickles of seed that dribble out from your puffed lips like a waterfall. Ogling his lustrously glazed limbs and gasping-

Your mouth drowns in a fresh lamination of syrupy saliva at the way it makes your thighs slap together as if they were held by glue. Gojo’s bulky base endlessly decorating with more and more creamy strings of sappy cum - and then some.

“I-I’m serious…” You’re blurting out, both hands fisting the drenched silken sheets in front of you. You keep your gaze locked on the way he’s pummeling behind you and find yourself rendered almost spellbound. “-m-might not even fit-”

“Limitless void, sweetheart.” He’s cutting you off smoothly, blushing red crownhead twitching up eagerly with just the lecherous thought. Breathless, fuck- he was so far gone he could barely even choke out an answer. “Be my c-cum…dump.”

It takes you one violent thwack - two - of his sloppy, succulent shaft poking messily into your deepest innards for you to realize what he meant. He wanted to use limitless void on your needy cunt. And then an exact three-second spank to your clit for you to wonder whether he was already doing that.

Because Gojo’s doughy soft fingertips leave your body jolted, miniscule tendrils of blue lightning slithering all across your spilling pussy. 

“Toru- are you already…”

“O-oh.” He didn’t even realize. 

Your eyes roll back at the buzzing sensation of his cursed technique sprinting down your perfectly curved spine, repeatedly pounding hips twitching involuntarily. Vicious. 

“I w-wan’’ that.” You admit, the rooound plumpness of his tip swabbing at your g-spot precisely and making you more honest than ever. Bulbous tears formulate near your fluttering waterline, “Want it. Want it so bad- pleeease, Sato- mmpf-”

And you’re not sure if it’s the sorcerer’s superhuman reflexes or your cockdrunken mind - but it’s almost as if you’ve instantaneously teleported into Gojo’s broad, beefy arms. 

“F-fuuuuck–! Toru, it’s so much- ngh- it’s soooo much.” 

You try to jostle yourself, to perhaps run from the overwhelming cadence. But he doesn’t let you even budge. Of course, he doesn’t.

He was so rough. Using you. 

One of his hands shackled to your hips like superglue, kneading filthy handfuls of your ass while he guides you to meet every pound. The other snugly curled around your throat, the only thing holding you upright - the only thing pinning you to him. 

This all-new angle helping him maze deeper, deeper, deeper inside of you until it felt like he was permanently prying your jelly-soft walls open. The slosh! of his drizzled cum pouring lazily out of you, it was almost as heavenly as the feeling of Gojo’s chiseled abs sloping down your back.

He’s whispering in your ear, pitchy and rasping. “Yeah? Yeah?” His pearly white teeth nibble softly on your tender lobe, every sharp exhale of breath striking you swelteringly hot. “T-take- cumdump- take-”

The warm clinginess of your pussy has reduced the great Gojo Satoru to stuttering. 

“A-all inside” Your head lolls foolishly backwards into the cushioned comfort of his pecs, just slightly slipping on the sweaty sheen covering his muscles. You bat your tear-dipped lashes up at him, “Wan’ it all inside- o-okay, Toru?”

His response departs in a breathless gasp, “Okay.”

And when Gojo cums he makes sure that his girl is not even a second far behind. 

Throwing his head back with the most pornographic, draaaagged out call of your name- he wastes no time drenching his long, long fingers in a splat! of webbed saliva and pinching your clit. 

It’s like an explosion, it’s like you burst with the nth high of tonight - your rubbery walls milking Gojo’s length completely dry with the intensity, your body shuddering, heart thumping so hard you think you bet Gojo could hear it.

And he was even worse.

“S-sweetheart-” Gojo grits his teeth so hard that you hear them clink! Murked heaves are so solidly condensed that you think you can almost see them. Weighted hips clapping against your ass in a sloppy recurring plap-plap-plap. “My girl, m-my…cumdump.”

Your toes curl the moment you feel his thick, ribbony knots of seed overflood your insides. Waves upon waves upon waves of it caking in with the rest of his excess remnants, so heavy that you can feel it tenderly stroke your most sweetest spots. 

Almost too much.

The lights had shattered ages ago, and right now the both of you are so far gone that you don’t even hear the bits of loose furniture in Gojo’s bedroom fall to the floor with dull thuds! 

A milky white ring sugarcoats Gojo’s ivory pubic hair, making his silky texture leave wet streaks across your stinging ass. Ones that make him leap from hoarse and dumbstruck straight into babbling helplessly. 

Completely drunk on you. 

“My girl- my cumdump.” Broad arms wrap around your fatigued body. “My girl my girl my giiirl– oh, my girl.” Before Gojo gifts your bruised mouth with a tiny peck, loving. “D’you know what a-a mating press is?”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - OH BABY, BABY…

The broiling bathtub water sloshes over each ceramic side, almost as wet as the silvery oodles of sap that just kept on pouring out from your pussy. Churning n’ smearing so vehemently that Higuruma can’t help but lift your legs up higher to take a longer look.

Admiring, honestly. 

“Isn’t this niiiiice?” He’s grunting out low into the cute lobe of your ear, your hips wriggling needily with every vibration rumbling from his broad best. So close that you could smell the flowery spuds of soap and his masculine natural musk. It was addictive. 

“A hot bath, n’ my hot wife-” Oh, you can already hear the smirk in his tonality. “-in a hot f-full nelson to boot.”

“Ngh! Hirooo–!” Your weeping whimpers babble out without you even knowing, the masses of your ass grinding vulgarly back into his prominent hipbones. “F-fuck me already.”

“Impatient impatient.” He tuts, “And why should I?”

“B-because I wan’ you—” 

You’re garbling out the prettiest noises, but that wouldn’t be enough to stop his vengeful teasing. Quirking a sleek, black brow. “Aaaand?” He loved this look on you, of course. All greedy n’ desperate. 

Though…little did your dear husband know that you had a secret weapon tonight. 

“And I want a baby.” You’re finishing off. Smug. 

Higuruma freezes. Higuruma gulps, “A-a what?”

“A baby, Higu.”

“A…baby.”

“Mhmm– ah!”

The yelp that departs your mouth in a sudden rush is solely because of the way that he latches his calloused fingertips onto the small of your back like a steering wheel and pulls you down down down. 

Greeting your sloppy entrance with pearly ribbons of pre and a sharp slap of his fat head.

“C-can’t just say shit like that out of your pussy, sugar, n’ ngh!” His gravelly tone punctures every pumped inch pinpricking inside of you. You feel so pliant letting him pry apart your deepest mushiest walls, “-not expect ta end up pregnant.”

Your hands scramble towards the smooth ends of the bathtub to keep yourself grounded onto something - anything. 

But, ah- Higuruma was selfish for your attention. And he ends up guiding your roaming palms up to his damp cocoa hair, letting you pullll through your bouts of adrenaline however you pleased. “Fuck- fuuuck jus’ like that, Hiromi.”

“I know, I know how to fuck my ngh- wife proper, angel.” He slicks his tongue out to lap at a beaded droplet of water running down your neck. Staring through half-lidded eyes, “You just sit- back- n’ take- it-”

Your eyes comically cross and uncross repeatedly with every whacked slam Higuruma plunges into your gooey depths. A sharp, stubborn one-two that leaves your ass rubbed raw from his happy trail so dark that it was almost black.

And he wasn’t easing you in- oh, not even in the least.

He was hard. Rough.

Rugged pounds so much more vicious than usual, you swear he was battering a bruise the same thick circumference as his plummy crownhead. And his tempo was juuuust enough to force the cracks of your mouth to fill up with treacly drool - not urgent, not slow. Simply precise, loooong fucks of his mean length.

You swear your very cunt was being molded to every puffy vein and ridge decorating his shaft, and the mercilessly massaging texture was enough to drive you wild.

You’re clinging onto his velveteen locks with one hand, and his big, bulging biceps with the other. “Ngh- Hiromi- i-it feels so good-” Clawing and rutting your way through every creamy mess of pre he was slipping past your ballooned-up folds. “You’re in so deep.” 

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”

And, fuck, your husband didn’t like to see you wasting even those gummy slatherings of precum he was rewarding you. 

You’re feeling the round-tipped ends of his fingers caress the saturated seam of your pussylips and pinch. Holding your dewy cunt tightly closed while he was bound to fill you up - so much so that he promised you were going to overspill.

“Gonna be s-soooo much fucking rounder n’ bigger when I fucking breed ya. Riiiight-” Higuruma hiccups, long lashes tickling across his clammy cheeks at the ever-tightening hug of your pussy. Free hand skimming down to measure out a loooong distance between your gulping hole and where he was hitting his pre-capped head into your cervix. “-there. M’gonna breed ya right there, my wife.”

He was measuring you.

Dark eyes a mere millimeter-wide crack away from falling shut, imagining just how glowing and pretty you’d be all full of his kid.

More thorough, even more thorough. 

Your entrance was so cozy when he pinched your pussy that he had to arch off the polished bathtub with slippery schwfs! Pushing n’ pushing past the slight resistance of you sucking his heated, heavy cock after every thrust. 

Desperate. 

You were biting down on your lips to hold back primal screams, because Higuruma was making sure you felt every dragging scrape of his full veins. Making sure your fuzzy eardrums rang with every wiiiinded squelch and splosh resonating from down under - and that was not just the water. 

“Gonna fuck ya u-until ngh- until they all know what we’ve done. T-till they all know how I made a ngh- fuckin’ mess of ya.” He snickers after your heels slip along the bathtub trying to rut wildly into him.

“H-Hiro-”

“You wanted a baby. N’ now you’re fuck- getting one.”

“P-please–” You’re letting your head tumble backwards, bleary eyes rolling way deeper and deeper to the backs of your lids as Higuruma keeps rocking constantly into you. Impatiently, “Harder, baby. Harder. Faster.”

“Haaah? Harder? M’supposed ta take care of the future mother of my kids, sugar- not break her pretty ngh- pussy.”

Though he’s grumbling this into your unfastened mouth, his pace only picks up into something filthy. You almost feel dirty letting the plumpened curve of his mushroom tip swat the door to your womb. 

And then you feel his reddened, swollen divot dangerously twitch-

“W-wait-” It takes a few seconds for you to manage to get your eyes fluttering open, and even then you’re fighting against the temptation of his long, veined cock fucking you dumb. “Did you j-just say hck! ‘kids’?”

“Sure did, angel—” Higuruma titters by the side of your pulsating throat, gifting you with one, two, three pecks. Right before sinking his teeth into your fragrant skin and groaning, “We’re having five kids. At least.”

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[vivsinkpot]

Zoom In, Don’t Glaze Over: How to Describe Appearance Without Losing the Plot

You’ve met her before. The girl with “flowing ebony hair,” “emerald eyes,” and “lips like rose petals.” Or him, with “chiseled jawlines,” “stormy gray eyes,” and “shoulders like a Greek statue.”

We don’t know them.

We’ve just met their tropes.

Describing physical appearance is one of the trickiest — and most overdone — parts of character writing. It’s tempting to reach for shorthand: hair color, eye color, maybe a quick body scan. But if we want a reader to see someone — to feel the charge in the air when they enter a room — we need to stop writing mannequins and start writing people.

So let’s get granular. Here’s how to write physical appearance in a way that’s textured, meaningful, and deeply character-driven.

1. Hair: It’s About Story, Texture, and Care

Hair says a lot — not just about genetics, but about choices. Does your character tame it? Let it run wild? Is it dyed, greying, braided, buzzed, or piled on top of her head in a hurry?

Good hair description considers:

Texture (fine, coiled, wiry, limp, soft)

Context (windblown, sweat-damp, scorched by bleach)

Emotion (does she twist it when nervous? Is he ashamed of losing it?)

Flat: “Her long brown hair framed her face.”

Better: “Her ponytail was too tight, the kind that whispered of control issues and caffeine-fueled 4 a.m. library shifts.”

You don’t need to romanticise it. You need to make it feel real.

2. Eyes: Less Color, More Connection

We get it: her eyes are violet. Cool. But that doesn’t tell us much.

Instead of focusing solely on eye color, think about:

What the eyes do (do they dart, linger, harden?)

What others feel under them (seen, judged, safe?)

The surrounding features (dark circles, crow’s feet, smudged mascara)

Flat: “His piercing blue eyes locked on hers.”

Better: “His gaze was the kind that looked through you — like it had already weighed your worth and moved on.”

You’re not describing a passport photo. You’re describing what it feels like to be seen by them.

3. Facial Features: Use Contrast and Texture

Faces are not symmetrical ovals with random features. They’re full of tension, softness, age, emotion, and life.

Things to look for:

Asymmetry and character (a crooked nose, a scar)

Expression patterns (smiling without the eyes, habitual frowns)

Evidence of lifestyle (laugh lines, sun spots, stress acne)

Flat: “She had a delicate face.”

Better: “There was something unfinished about her face — as if her cheekbones hadn’t quite agreed on where to settle, and her mouth always seemed on the verge of disagreement.”

Let the face be a map of experience.

4. Bodies: Movement > Measurement

Forget dress sizes and six packs. Think about how bodies occupy space. How do they move? What are they hiding or showing? How do they wear their clothes — or how do the clothes wear them?

Ask:

What do others notice first? (a presence, a posture, a sound?)

How does their body express emotion? (do they go rigid, fold inwards, puff up?)

Flat: “He was tall and muscular.”

Better: “He had the kind of height that made ceilings nervous — but he moved like he was trying not to take up too much space.”

Describing someone’s body isn’t about cataloguing. It’s about showing how they exist in the world.

5. Let Emotion Tint the Lens

Who’s doing the describing? A lover? An enemy? A tired narrator? The emotional lens will shape what’s noticed and how it’s described.

In love: The chipped tooth becomes charming.

In rivalry: The smirk becomes smug.

In mourning: The face becomes blurred with memory.

Same person. Different lens. Different description.

6. Specificity is Your Superpower

Generic description = generic character. One well-chosen detail creates intimacy. Let us feel the scratch of their scarf, the clink of her earrings, the smudge of ink on their fingertips.

Examples:

“He had a habit of adjusting his collar when he lied — always clockwise, always twice.”

“Her nail polish was always chipped, but never accidentally.”

Make the reader feel like they’re the only one close enough to notice.

Describing appearance isn’t just about what your character looks like. It’s about what their appearance says — about how they move through the world, how others see them, and how they see themselves.

Zoom in on the details that matter. Skip the clichés. Let each description carry weight, story, and emotion. Because you’re not building paper dolls. You’re building people.

[tronform]

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[sodacowboy]

yeah so anyway the meds I’m on make the process of drafting these dolls even more slow going than they were to begin with but they are still going

[kthologue]

operation: get over your childhood crush! — gojo satoru

synopsis. in an attempt to move on from your childhood best friend—who definitely doesn’t see you the way you want—you hatch a series of plans to help you get over him. it doesn't go as planned.

contents. hurt/comfort, fluff, nerd!gojo, college au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, unreliable narrator, miscommunication, insecurity, dorky references bc u make him go dumb and digimon inaccuracies probably

notes. i did not proofread this monster!! enjoy :P

The hum of the air conditioning fills the room as night settles in, the light from Satoru’s bedside lamp casting a soft glow over his mess of a room. You’re both sprawled out across his bed, limbs entangled like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Because, for the two of you, it is.

Satoru’s Nintendo Switch is balanced on his stomach, hands lazily tapping away as his little Digimon charges into battle on screen. You’re curled into his side, one leg hooked around his and a blanket thrown haphazardly across you both. The half-abandoned textbooks sit at the edge of the mattress, tragically ignored. Another study session: failed. Not that Satoru needed it. He passed everything with flying colors. It was more of an excuse for you to come over.

“Your room still smells like that cheap vanilla air freshener,” you mumble, nose scrunching.

“That’s because you bought it,” he replies without looking up, thumb expertly guiding his character through an attack.

“Because your room would end up stinking with sweat and whatever freaky stuff you do in here.”

“Hey!” He whines. “I shower everyday and you know it. The stink is all you. Have you ever sniffed yourself, princess?”

You swat at his stomach, and he lets out a dramatic grunt. “Rude. I brought that candle to add ambiance.”

“Ah yes,” he deadpans, “nothing like artificial sugar scent.’”

You snort, settling your head back down on his shoulder, the fabric of his hoodie soft beneath your cheek. There’s a long pause before you say, “You know, if we fail our exams, I’m blaming your Digimon addiction.”

He grins. “I’m raising digital warriors, thank you very much. And I’ve never failed an exam, don’t wound me now!”

“They look like mutant toddlers with attitude problems.”

He gasps, clutching his heart. “They’re champions, you monster.”

You laugh, letting the sound dissolve into something quieter as your fingers absentmindedly trace a pattern into the blanket. His hand rests near yours. Not holding it. Not not holding it.

His glasses are tilted again. Of course.

You reach up and straighten them with a sigh. “Honestly, you’d be lost without me.”

“Not true.” He says it reflexively, then pauses. His voice softens. “Okay, maybe. I’d probably just let them slide down until I walked into a wall.”

You smile faintly. “And there’d be no one there to patch you up.”

“Tragic,” he agrees. “Would bleed out on the floor, probably.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re so bossy,” he counters, shooting you a sideways look. 

“Admit it,” he says, voice full of faux-smugness, “you’d miss me if I died tragically and left you all alone.”

You hesitate for a second too long before mumbling, “Don’t joke about that.”

It’s quiet. The game music loops in the background as his Digimon wins the battle with a triumphant fanfare.

He doesn’t say anything.

You suddenly feel too warm under the blanket. The joke had been harmless, stupid even.

But something inside you twists, the same something that’s been unraveling lately every time he mentions another girl.

Another type. That’s not you.

“You know,” you say slowly, eyes peeling from the screen to his phone, which lights up with a notification, revealing one of his favorite gravure model’s latest issues as its wallpaper. “You could probably date any girl you wanted. Why do you partake in freak stuff like this? It’s anti-girl repellent.”

He makes a noncommittal sound. “Doubt it.”

“I don’t. You’ve got that whole genius-who-doesn’t-realize-he’s-hot thing going on.”

He glances at you, skeptical. “Is that a thing?”

“It is. Annoying, but effective. Girls love it.”

He hums, clearly amused, cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, good to know I have options.”

You try to laugh, but it catches in your throat.

You shouldn’t ask. You really shouldn’t.

But you’re lying in his bed. Wrapped up in him like you belong here. And some part of you aches to know the answer.

So you pretend it’s a joke. You tilt your head against his shoulder, voice airy, teasing. “Hey, be honest—do you think I’m cute?”

He goes still.

His hand tightens slightly on the Switch. You think you’ve pushed too far, so you try to backpedal before he can respond.

“Not like… like that,” you say quickly. “I just meant, like, in general. Compared to those girls you’re into. Say, Waka Inoue. You know, long legs, shiny hair, cute face?”

His jaw tightens.

You’re still trying to play it off. “I mean, I’m not fishing for compliments. I just—was wondering.”

He finally turns to look at you.

His gaze lingers. And for the first time all night, he’s not smiling.

You feel your breath stutter in your throat underneath his gaze.

Then he shrugs.

“…Nah.”

It slices through the air with quiet finality.

Your heart drops. You don’t let it show. Not fully. But it must flicker in your face, because he quickly looks away.

You laugh. It sounds forced.

“Yeah, that’s fair. I mean, I wasn’t expecting a yes or anything.”

He’s silent.

You shift away from him slightly, giving him space. “I should head home soon. We didn’t really get any studying done, anyway.”

“It’s late. Why don’t you stay the night?”

Usually, you’d accept his offer with a smile, but you really wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity.

“It’s fine, I have something to do anyway,” the lie slips out of your mouth easily as you begin to pack your things.

And you miss the way he watches you—guilt in his eyes, frustration on his tongue. 

You knew it was time. Twenty years of hopeless, fruitless pining had done enough damage to your heart.

It had started the day your parents moved next door. Satoru had been the loud, obnoxious, too-pretty-for-his-own-good boy on the playground who shoved candy in your hand and asked if you wanted to be friends.

You’d been doomed since day one.

And to make things worse, you’d both gotten into Japan’s most competitive university—together. Same neighborhood. Same school. Same train route. You weren’t just stuck with him. You were haunted.

But you were young and hot. And allegedly in your prime. You couldn’t keep orbiting around a guy who still thought microwave gyoza was a food group and used your shampoo because it “smelled like you, so why not?”

You were sipping coffee with your two closest friends, and today’s topic was—unfortunately—your love life.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you’ve been stuck on Gojo for this long,” Utahime said, disgusted, as she stirred her latte like it personally offended her. “You could do so much better.”

“It was kind of cute in high school,” Shoko added “but now it’s just sad.”

You sighed, blowing on your drink. “I know, okay? It’s not like I haven’t tried. But he’s literally the only guy I’ve ever been close to. I don’t even talk to guys besides him.”

“That’s because he’s been gatekeeping you since the two of you met,” Utahime said flatly. “I swear, every time someone so much as glanced at you, he pulled that overprotective act.”

You wrinkled your nose. “That doesn’t sound like ’Toru…”

Shoko and Utahime exchanged a look. One of those knowing glances.

Utahime cleared her throat. “It doesn’t matter! What matters is you are hot. You’ve got the face, the body, the grades, the personality. You just need the confidence.”

You peeked up at her, unsure. “You really think so?”

Utahime leaned forward, smirking like she’d just won a war. “I know so. And that’s why I’ve come up with a plan.”

You narrowed your eyes. “A plan?”

She slammed her hands down on the table, eyes alight. “Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru.”

You blinked. “That’s… a long title.”

Shoko blew a slow stream of smoke. “It’s either this or pine until you die and haunt him as a love-sick ghost.”

You stared into your cup, sighing. “Fine. I’m in. What’s step one?”

Utahime grinned.

“Whatcha doing?” 

Gojo’s voice drifts lazily over your shoulder, followed by the soft rustle of his hoodie as he leans in. He’s far too close, obnoxiously so, his breath tickling your ear and his chin was nearly resting on your shoulder.

You don’t even glance up. “Studying.”

The two of you are supposed to be studying— finals loom overhead like a guillotine, but as usual, very little academic progress has been made. Mostly because your study partner is a six-foot-something genius who insists on sitting sideways in the booth, long legs tangled in yours under the table like it’s second nature.

He hums, skeptical. “Liar.”

You hum noncommittally, thumbing through the dating app Utahime suggested with vague disinterest. The guys blur together: not tall enough, too cocky, too bland, too not Satoru. One makes a joke suspiciously close to a Gojo classic, and you immediately hit unmatch with a scowl.

“Wait,” Satoru says slowly. “Are you on a dating app?!” He practically yells the last part. Half the cafe turns to glare at the source of the disruption.

You hiss under your breath, mortified, swatting at him. “Keep your voice down, idiot!”

His eyes widen dramatically, hands thrown up like you’ve stabbed him. “I leave you alone for two minutes and you’re already planning a life with someone named ‘Keita, aspiring poet and spiritual healer’? I’m wounded.”

“You weren’t supposed to read that far.”

“I’m a speed-reader,” he says with a smug grin. “It’s part of the whole ‘genius’ thing.”

Before you can argue, he snatches your phone with a level of ease that tells you this isn’t the first time he’s done something like this. He grins like he’s won a prize.

“Satoru!”

“Relax, I’m not texting anyone,” he says, fingers flying across the screen. “Just optimizing.”

Your heart drops. “What are you typing?”

“Nothing~”

You make a grab for your phone, but he effortlessly leans back, holding it above his head with those ridiculously long limbs. You glare at him from across the table, arm outstretched like a furious cat trying to swat at the moon.

“Give it back!”

“Patience.”

“Gojo Satoru—”

“Okay, okay!” he relents with a dramatic sigh, finally placing your phone face-down on the table like he’s done you a huge favor.

You snatch it up immediately, eyes scanning for damage. No weird messages. No unsolicited likes. No new matches.

“…What did you do?”

“I didn’t message anyone,” he assures, too innocent to be trusted. “I’m not that cruel.”

You narrow your eyes, suspicious.

“But,” he adds with a grin, “I didn’t know you were dating.”

“I’m not,” you mutter, clicking your phone off. “Just considering it. Trying. It’s not going well.”

“Good.”

The word comes out too fast. Too sharp. And his face doesn’t match the light tone he’s trying to play off.

You raise an eyebrow. “Good?”

He shifts, leaning back in his seat, suddenly very interested in stirring the foam in his overpriced coffee. “I mean, it’s good you’re not settling. You should be picky. Guys are the worst.”

You snort. “You are a guy.”

“Exactly. I know what we’re like.”

You smile despite yourself, rolling your eyes. “I’m sure you think you’re the exception.”

“I know I am,” he says, winking. Then he sobers slightly, eyes flickering to yours. “I’m just… looking out for you.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache. You wish it was more than just him being protective in that big-brotherly, annoyingly loyal kind of way.

You take a sip of your coffee to cool your nerves. It doesn’t help. The words come out before you can stop them.

“You know with the way things are going… maybe you should just date me at this point.”

Silence.

It’s a joke. Supposed to be. But the second it leaves your lips, it tastes real.

Gojo freezes.

You panic. “I didn’t mean—like, I was just joking—”

But he turns toward you, eyes unreadable behind the fringe of snowy white hair. “Maybe I should.”

You blink.

And then, with infuriating ease, he grins.

“Anyway,” he says quickly, swiping your phone from the table again before you can stop him, “Yuto here looks like the type to ghost you after three dates and a karaoke duet. You can do better.”

You gape at him, completely thrown off, your heart slamming in your chest.

You don’t even notice what he’s done until later—until you get home and open your app to find that your bio has been changed.

Taken. Mentally married to a nerd since birth.

You want to scream.

Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru?

Yeah. Not going great.

Not at all.

You weren’t sure why you agreed to it.

Maybe it was the look in Utahime’s eyes, so determined and hopeful. Maybe it was Shoko promising she would help you find true love. Maybe it was the quiet part of you that wanted to see yourself through someone else’s eyes. Someone who wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Today,” Utahime had declared, curling the last strand of your hair like she was threading a spell, “is the first day of your Gojo-less future”

You laughed nervously, tugging at the hem of your skirt. It wasn’t your usual style—not the dewy makeup you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror, not the new haircut that made your eyes look almost too bright, not the blouse that left your shoulders bare in a way that made you feel strangely noticed.

But when you caught your reflection, your heart fluttered. You looked beautiful.

When you stepped onto campus, the sun was out, the wind teasing your hair. You spotted him immediately—Gojo, slouched against the wall outside your lecture hall, nose buried in his Switch as he muttered something under his breath about evolving stats and attack modifiers.

He didn’t notice you at first.

Then he looked up.

His game froze mid-battle. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again, like someone had unplugged his brain.

“Wha—” he said eloquently. “Wh—what did you do.”

You blinked. “Hi to you too.”

He stared, unabashed. His glasses were slightly crooked, his ears glowing scarlet. He looked like someone had just told him Digimon was real and living in your shoes.

He blinked. “You look like… like you skipped two evolution stages overnight. Straight to Mega. Like if Angewomon fused with… I don’t know, some kind of rare, limited-release goddess-type Digimon that only spawns on a lunar eclipse.”

You blinked.

Utahime’s voice in your head: You’re hot. Unstoppable. He’s going to be speechless.

And Gojo was. But not in the way you wanted.

You tried to laugh. “So I look like a cartoon?”

“A beautiful cartoon,” he said, serious now. “Like the kind of boss character they only show for two frames because animating her costs too much.”

Your heart stuttered. It was the sort of compliment only Gojo could give: clumsy and dorky, yet brilliant in its own way.

But the moment passed.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, sunglasses slipping slightly as he muttered, “You just… you look different. That’s all.”

Different.

Not better. Not prettier.

Just different.

You swallowed. “Yeah, well. Thought I’d try something new.”

“I didn’t say it was bad,” he added quickly, but the words felt unsure. Flimsy.

“I should… use the restroom,” you mumbled, turning before he could say anything else.

In the bathroom, you stared at your reflection. Your lipstick looked too bold now. Your lashes too heavy. Despite the change, you were still painfully you— the you Gojo teased during study sessions, the one he let borrow his hoodie when it rained, the one who sat next to him during endless all-nighters. And maybe that was the problem. You weren’t like those girls on the magazines. 

What you didn’t see, what you couldn’t see, was Gojo still standing outside the lecture hall, staring after you, Switch forgotten, game over screen blinking on the screen.

He didn’t even notice.

“You good, Satoru?” Shoko asked, walking by.

He blinked. “I think I just saw my best friend… and my final boss… and my future wife… all at once.”

Shoko snorted. “You’re a dork.”

Gojo just sighed, shoulders slumping as he muttered, “I’m so doomed.”

It’s a mild Friday evening when you meet him—Kazuya, the guy from your psychology class. He’s polite, articulate, and kind of cute. The kind of guy who asks if you prefer cats or dogs before ordering his drink, and actually listens when you answer.

Utahime and Shoko had insisted you say yes. “A change of pace,” they called it. “You need a baseline. Not every guy is going to be Gojo Satoru.”

Exactly. That was the point.

You’re sipping a matcha latte and nodding along as Kazuya explains his thesis on cognitive development when a very familiar voice cuts through the air.

“Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here.”

Your stomach drops. You look up, and sure enough—

Satoru.

In all his tall, obnoxiously eye-catching glory, wearing a white t-shirt that was inside out and a grin like he just won the lottery. He's holding a bottle of ramune and standing directly next to your table, like he’s been there the whole time.

You blink. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs. “Thirsty. Wanted a drink.”

“At this café? On this side of campus?”

“Yeah,” he says, tone innocent. “Weird coincidence, huh?”

Kazuya offers a polite smile. “You’re her friend, right? Gojo?”

“Oh, best friend. Lifelong. Practically her shadow.” He plops into the empty seat beside you without asking, casually tossing his ramune onto the table. “What’s your name again? Kaname?”

“…Kazuya.”

“Right, right. I always mix those up. You look like a Kaname, though. Or maybe a Yusuke.”

You stare at him, incredulous. “Satoru—”

But he’s already leaning over, squinting at the book tucked under Kazuya’s arm. “Ooh, Piaget. Bold move. Love that for you.”

Kazuya blinks. “Do you… like developmental theory?”

“I like being correct,” Gojo says with a cheeky smile. “Also, [Name] hates Piaget. She called him ‘the Freud of toddlers’ last semester.”

Kazuya turns to you in mild surprise. “Really?”

“I—I mean, yeah,” you mumble. “Sort of.”

Gojo beams. “Told you.”

Kazuya makes a valiant effort to steer the conversation back to safe, neutral ground.

“So, you mentioned you're interested in behaviorism, right?” he says, offering a gentle smile. “I thought Dr. Takeda's lecture on conditioned responses was kind of fascinating—”

“Oh, riveting,” Satoru cuts in, lounging back in his chair like he owns the café. “Nothing like bonding over Pavlov’s dogs to spark romance. Did she tell you she cried during Inside Out because the depiction of core memories was ‘psychologically resonant’? Real charmer, this one.”

You shoot Satoru a look. “I was twelve!”

Kazuya blinks, trying not to smile. “I actually thought that was pretty moving, too.”

“Wow,” Satoru deadpans. “A match made in neuroscience.”

Kazuya laughs politely and continues, undeterred. “So, uh, any research plans after graduation?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Satoru beats you to it again.

“She used to want to be a vet. Cried when she had to dissect a frog in middle school. Tragic day.”

“Is that true?” Kazuya turns to you, amused now.

“Technically, yes,” you mutter into your drink.

By the time your cup is empty, you realize you’ve laughed more at Satoru’s interjections than you have at anything Kazuya’s said. Not because Kazuya wasn’t interesting—he was. He was calm, thoughtful, well-read, and clearly trying. But next to Satoru, whose entire presence seemed impossible to ignore, Kazuya didn’t stand a chance.

Still, to his credit, Kazuya maintains a steady, if slightly strained, expression as he sets down his cup and finally says, carefully,

“So… is Gojo your boyfriend?”

The question hangs awkwardly.

You and Satoru answer at the same time.

“No,” you say quickly.

“Yes,” he says with a smile.

You both turn to stare at each other.

“I mean—no,” he corrects, waving his hands. “Just a joke. Hah. Obviously.”

Kazuya blinks. “Right.”

You can’t meet either of their eyes. Your drink is finished, your palms are damp, and the café is suddenly too warm, too small. You push back your chair and stand.

“I should go. Early lab meeting tomorrow.” It’s the weakest excuse, but neither of them calls you on it.

Kazuya stands too, polite as ever. “Thanks for meeting up. You seem like a really cool person.” He hesitates, then adds, gently, “I just think maybe you’ve already got someone.”

You freeze. You open your mouth, then close it again. There’s nothing to say.

Outside, the cold air kisses your cheeks like a reminder. It stings a little, or maybe that’s just the confusion burning in your chest.

Satoru’s already waiting for you. Of course he is. He’s leaning against the lamppost, silver hair catching in the wind. But his eyes are downcast, trained on the sidewalk.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Neither do you.

You exhale, watching your breath curl white in the air. “You didn’t have to crash it, y’know.”

“I didn’t crash,” he replies without looking at you. “I was invited.”

“By who?”

“Fate. Karma. The gods of poor decision-making.” He shrugs.

You roll your eyes, but it tugs a laugh from you anyway. Stupid, annoying, charming Gojo.

“So,” he says after a beat, nudging your arm gently with his elbow, “how’d it go?”

You glance at him. He still won’t meet your gaze. His lips are pursed like he’s holding back a hundred words and none of them are funny.

“He was nice,” you admit. Despite being rudely interrupted by the white haired idiot beside you.

“Nice is boring,” he mutters, kicking at a loose stone on the pavement.

You laugh, soft and tired. “You’re the worst.”

He finally looks at you then, lips quirking into that smug, too-knowing smile. “But you like me anyway.”

You look away, cheeks burning, heart thudding like a traitor in your chest.

You don’t answer.

You don’t have to.

Despite Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru failing in every imaginable way, things were starting to feel bearable.

Almost good, even.

Satoru still hovered a little too close, always with that same half-smile like he knew something you didn’t. And maybe, just maybe— his constant sabotage, the teasing, the jealousy, the way he looked at you like he was about to say something important but never did. Maybe it all meant something.

You let yourself believe it, just a little.

And that was your first mistake.

It happens quietly, without fanfare or warning. Just a throwaway line between sips of lukewarm coffee and the soft shuffle of paper. You’re both at your usual spot in the library, surrounded by open notebooks and highlighted packets, pretending to study more than you actually are.

You’re halfway through underlining a term in your psychology notes when Satoru leans back in his chair, stretches like a cat, and says far too casually:

“So, guess who asked me out?”

You hum absentmindedly. “Who?”

“Ayane.”

The name hits you like a slap.

You freeze, highlighter paused mid-sentence. “…Ayane? From the biochem track?”

“Yeah,” he says, practically glowing. “You know her, right? She's in your study group sometimes.”

You do know her. Of course you do. Everyone knows her.

She’s beautiful, with this effortless, clean kind of elegance—long legs, perfect posture, and that quiet, poised confidence that makes professors adore her and guys fall over themselves. The kind of girl who posts one blurry bookshelf photo and still racks up a thousand likes. The kind of girl Gojo always jokes about marrying.

But he’s not joking now. He’s beaming.

“She asked me out to dinner this Friday. She’s so smart, too. I didn’t even have to pretend to know what quantum entanglement was. It’s wild.” He laughs, brushing a hand through his hair. “I thought she’d never go for a guy like me, y’know?”

You force a laugh. “A guy like you?”

“Yeah. I dunno. Too much, I guess? But she said I was ‘refreshing.’” He grins. 

Your stomach sinks.

This is what you thought you wanted—for him to move on, so you could finally do the same. For Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru to succeed, for real this time.

But now that it’s happening, it feels like someone’s slowly pulling your ribs apart.

“Oh,” you manage, smiling like you’ve practiced it. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

He doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks on happy. He just keeps talking, rambling about restaurant reservations and how she likes contemporary poetry and used to live in France. You nod in all the right places, but your thoughts are already slipping away.

Because it isn’t just that he’s going out with someone else.

It’s that he chose her.

Her with her flawless skin and quiet charm and the kind of beauty that doesn’t need to try. Her, with everything you’re not. And more than that, it’s that he made you believe you could have meant more to him, when really, he’d been searching for someone else all along.

You excuse yourself early, mumbling something about laundry.

He doesn’t follow.

You don’t cry until you’re halfway home, the cold air biting at your cheeks as your vision blurs.

For the first time in years, you don’t text him goodnight.

You don’t wait for a meme. Or a dumb joke. Or his usual, “Hey, genius. Sleep.”

You go silent.

And when he texts the next day, you don’t reply.

You skip your library meet-up. You don’t sit next to him in class. You even duck into the stairwell when you see his ridiculous white hair from across campus.

It’s not because you’re mad. It’s because you’re heartbroken.

And you can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter—that he doesn’t matter.

You weren’t just losing your best friend.

You were losing the love of your life.

And he didn’t even notice.

It takes him three days to notice you’re gone.

Well—no. That’s a lie.

He notices immediately. The moment your usual seat in the library stays empty. When your laugh doesn’t echo in the café line. When your name doesn’t pop up on his screen at 2AM with some stupid meme captioned, “this reminded me of you, idiot.”

But he tells himself you’re busy.

Midterms, right? Stress. Coffee. You get like this sometimes, and he gets it. He really does.

So he waits. Tells himself not to be clingy.

But then Friday comes.

And he's sitting across from Ayane in some expensive, quiet restaurant where the napkins are folded like origami cranes and the water tastes filtered. She’s telling him about her research internship in Osaka, about enzymes and international grants, and all he can think is—

You’d be making fun of me right now.

You’d be kicking him under the table. Whispering some dumb pun about digimon. You’d be pulling faces every time he tried to pronounce the items on the menu. You’d be you.

Ayane is lovely.

But she doesn’t laugh when he says something stupid. She just smiles politely.

She doesn’t ask about why his glasses are always crooked (it’s so you could fix them). Doesn’t tease him for double-knotting his laces like a paranoid grandma. Doesn’t call him “Sato” like it’s some private joke only the two of you get.

He walks her home. Thanks her for a nice evening.

Then he goes to the convenience store. Alone.

And he sees your favorite snack on the shelf and buys two out of habit.

He stares at his phone the entire train ride back.

No new messages.

Just the last one you sent days ago:

“Laundry. Rain check?”

And nothing since.

He waits. Another day. Then two.

You don’t show up to class again.

You don’t like his latest meme.

You don’t comment on the Digimon pun he texted you out of desperation.

You are silent.

And Satoru Gojo—brilliant, blind-sighted, the golden boy of theoretical physics, always five steps ahead realizes, too late, that he’s been a fool.

That he didn’t just lose a study partner.

He lost the one person who knew him better than he knew himself.

The one person he couldn’t replace with rare Digimon pulls, half-solved physics equations, or overly sweet desserts.

And for the first time since he was a kid—

He’s afraid.

It’s been a little over a week.

A little over a week since Gojo Satoru has heard your voice. Since you shoved your coffee at him without asking, muttering “too sweet for me” when you really meant “I got this for you.” Since you poked fun at his stupid sock choices, or knocked your foot against his under the table like it was nothing.

And Satoru is suffering.

He's tried everything. Showed up to your house with excuses too weak to be called plans (“Hey, I brought your favorite snacks. I just... figured maybe you forgot you liked them?”). Waited outside your lecture hall until a security guard asked if he was lost. Took detours between classes hoping to catch a glimpse of your ponytail, your laugh, anything.

But you were always one step ahead.

You stopped answering his texts. Blocked him on that stupid dating app (which—ouch, even though you hadn’t used it seriously). You didn’t even show up to the library anymore. And even Shoko started looking at him with thinly veiled pity and a you really fumbled the bag look in her eyes.

Gojo Satoru is just tired.

Miserable.

So when he finally finds you—not because he’s chasing you down this time, but because he’s walking the long way home, and there you are, sitting on the old swings at the park where you first met—it knocks the wind out of him.

You don’t look surprised to see him. Just tired too.

“I figured you’d find me eventually,” you say quietly.

He swallows. His hands curl at his sides like he’s preparing for a fight.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “Why?”

You look away. “You’re smart. Figure it out.”

Gojo looks down at his feet.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Silence stretches between you, heavy and stinging. The playground is empty except for the wind dragging a soda can down the sidewalk and the faint creak of the swing chain.

Then he exhales, ragged and unsure. “Look, I can’t—I can’t take this anymore.”

You glance up.

“I can’t either.”

Hope flares too fast, too naive in his chest. His shoulders drop like he’s been holding up the world. “That’s good,” he breathes, stepping forward. “Because the silent treatment— God, I thought I was going to—”

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”

The words stop him cold.

“What?” he breathes.

You laugh, but it’s hollow. Like something already broken. “Don’t you get it? I can’t be friends with you and pretend that nothing’s changed. That I’m okay just being your best friend. I’ve been in love with you for years, Satoru.”

His heart stutters. You don’t stop.

“And I love myself too much to keep hurting for someone who doesn’t even look at me that way.” Your voice cracks, but you push through. “Do you know how humiliating it feels? To love someone so much it aches, and still feel like you’ll never be enough?”

He opens his mouth. Closes it.

You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You never even thought I was cute.”

He looks like he’s been hit.

“I’ve been chasing scraps. Leftovers. Mixed signals and stupid inside jokes. I—I can’t do it anymore.”

You finally meet his eyes, and that’s when he sees it: the hurt you’ve been hiding behind every smile, every brush-off, every joke you cracked to keep the silence from swallowing you.

And for once, Gojo Satoru can’t find a single thing to say.

Not yet.

Not until he stops you from walking away.

“Where did you get an idea like that?” His cerulean eyes search yours desperately. “I-I don’t think you’re just cute, are you kidding?” he blurts, eyes wild.

“Y-you’re breathtaking! Everything I’ve dreamt of and more! That night when you asked me if I thought you were cute, I only said no because it would be a divine crime to reduce to such. All of my fantasies have been centered around you since we first met on that playground—since you tripped over your shoelaces trying to race me to the monkey bars!”

Your breath catches.

He continues, desperate now, like every second of silence might kill him.

“I love you! And not like a brother. Like—I want to marry you. Like, small wedding in Okinawa, barefoot on the beach, you wearing that soft blue dress you like. I already planned it. Our firstborn would be a daughter, with your eyes, my hair. She’d be the boss of the house.”

You gape.

“Wait—”

“I’m not done!” he says, hands thrown up. “Then we’d have twins. Boys. Chaos gremlins. One would look like my twin and the other yours, and they’d absolutely terrorize us—but their sister keeps them in check, she’s fierce like you.”

You blink. A tear slides down your cheek.

“I want to move to Kyoto,” he says, softer now. “Buy a house with a dumb little garden. Grow tomatoes we’ll never eat. Live out the rest of our lives where it’s quiet.”

You cover your mouth, stunned. “You… really thought all that out?”

“It’s easy,” he breathes, “when all I can think about is you.”

He steps closer. The wind tugs his white hair into his eyes, but he doesn’t blink.

“I go to study nonlinear quantum field theory and all I see is your face. I try to cool off and play Digimon, and even that’s ruined—my lineup is garbage now! I only keep the ones you said were cute!”

A laugh bubbles out of you, fragile and watery.

“You idiot,” you murmur.

“I am,” he nods solemnly. “I’m the world’s biggest idiot. And I’m in love with you.”

Another tear slips down. He wipes it away before you can.

“Is it too late?” he asks, voice cracking slightly. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”

You stare at him, this man, this brilliant, ridiculous boy who had held your heart long before you ever admitted it.

“It’s not too late,” you whisper.

He doesn’t speak. Just steps closer. Gently and carefully, like he's handling something sacred, he cups your cheek in his hand.

Your nose bumps his. His breath ghosts over your lips.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for years,” he whispers.

And then, finally, he kisses you.

It’s not perfect, your cheeks are still wet, his nose bumps yours again, and his hand trembles just a little, but it’s warm and sweet and soft. It tastes like home..

When he pulls away, his smile is sheepish. “So… are we still doing the whole ‘Operation: Get Over Gojo’ thing, or?”

You laugh, heart full, forehead pressed to his.

“Mission failed,” you whisper.

He grins. “Good.”

And then he kisses you again.

art by leimiruu on x!

[truedatafinancialpvtltd]

Head and Shoulders Chart Pattern in Stock Trading

The Head and Shoulders pattern is a chart formation that often signals a reversal in the trend of a financial asset like stocks, commodities, or currencies. Traders use this pattern to spot when a market is about to shift from an upward trend to a downward trend (or vice versa), making it an essential tool for both beginners and experienced investors. This pattern has three peaks with the centre peak shaped like a ‘head’ supported by the two ‘shoulders’ or smaller peaks on either side which gives the pattern its name.

Read Full Blog Post: Head and Shoulders Pattern in Technical Analysis

[10bmnews]

Bitcoin Price Crash Trigger To $96,000: The Head And Shoulders Pattern That’s Forming

Reason to trust Strict editorial policy that focuses on accuracy, relevance, and impartiality Created by industry experts and meticulously reviewed The highest standards in reporting and publishing Strict editorial policy that focuses on accuracy, relevance, and impartiality Morbi pretium leo et nisl aliquam mollis. Quisque arcu lorem, ultricies quis pellentesque nec, ullamcorper eu…

[celestiaras]

ft. jinu x f! reader — kpop demon hunters

╰₊✧ when you piss off your girlfriend so she decides to drain you dry tonight┊0.5k words

contains: smut!! dom reader & sub jinu┊demon stamina, established relationship, jealousy of rumi and possessiveness, creampies/breeding, roughness and scratching

➤ author's note: i saw this prompt on twitter and just had to write it for someone but it’s short because i typed this all out on my phone

making you jealous was one mistake.

making you jealous, pointing it out with a chuckle, and then brushing it off as nothing important was a death sentence.

it wasn’t his intention to belittle your feelings, he swears, he was just being stupid because his mind is all over the place between gwi-ma, his past, his half-blood enemy, and his new occupation as a kpop idol. he didn’t think fans in the human world shipping him with the purple-haired demon hunter was going to bother you so much. he found it to be completely harmless, but you clearly thought otherwise and decided the best punishment was to let out your frustrations on him. 

his head was spinning at this point, thrown back into the plush pillow as another useless moan fell from his lips, unable to keep track of the number of rounds you two had done and how many more were to come. all he knew was the non-stop pleasure you’ve been giving him for the past hours, the fire of ecstasy burning in his soul with each drag of your velvet walls along his cock, the smell of sex, the pain of your nails scratching at his chest, how beautiful you were on top of him with your skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat and the intricate patterns drawn all over your body glowing were every time he hit your spongy sweet spot— he didn’t even remember why you were so pissed off at him in the first place. 

through his half-lidded eyes, he could see evidence of his previous peaks oozing out of your tight little cunt where the two of you met, leaking out a little more with every raise of your hips and getting pushed deeper into you each time they slammed into him. he wouldn’t even be surprised if he’s fucked a baby into you at this rate, but the thought of it combined with unnatural stamina kept him rock-hard despite the fact that he’s been shooting blanks for the past fourty mintues. he doesn’t know if he still has it in him, but he knows you aren’t going to relent until he’s properly drained and all of the underworld knows that you’re the reason why he’s screaming so much.

your hand traced up his torso, tracing the design up his abs and chest, leaving feather-light touches all over, from his board shoulders where you left sunken bute marks so deep that it was a wonder there was no blood to the dark purple marks you left on his fair neck up to his sharp jaw. the possessive glare you gave him made shivers shoot up his spine, and he swears he came again with how his vision went completely white and his entire body stilled for a moment. 

that was, until he felt you lightly smacking him in the face multiple times until he opened his eyes and saw you smirking at the pathetic state he was in. “aw, are you going to tap out already, jinu? you look so cute when you’re all fucked out like this… i’m so glad it’s a sight that only i am able to see…”

god, he’s so in love with you. his hand cupped yours, looking up at you as the only one for him. “right, only you… i’m yours, forever and always…”

[that-one-girl2020]

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader

A/N: K-Pop Demon Hunters has me in a chokehold and I have so many ideas floating around in my head but I’m really bad at actually writing and executing them. But I had to write something to help with this fixation. Also, I don’t know how the Honmoon works. Like, can anyone alter or control it after some training? Do you need to be born with a certain predisposition? So, I kinda just made some stuff up.

Edit (7/11/25): Please do not steal or plagiarize my work, I worked hard on this series and have a lot of pride in it.

Edit: Now has Part 2! Part 3! Part 4! Part 5! Part 6! Part 7!

‼️SPOILERS FOR KPDH‼️

“Okay, you guys are just going down there, right? I’m gonna go pick up some groceries,” You tell the three girls in disguise.

“Thanks, (Y/n)!”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks, (Y/n).”

Sighing, you wave over your shoulder as you separate from the girls. You managed their wardrobe and visuals, you were able to take the vague ideas in their heads and their music and bring them together in stunning visuals while maintaining their individual styles and own input.

But, you were also Rumi’s twin sister. You grew up alongside her under the guidance of your Aunt Celine. You trained with her, learning to fight, dance, and sing with her. However… You were never able to tap into the Honmoon like her or Mira or Zoey.

Which meant you couldn’t debut with your sister or help her with the Honmoon. All you could do was support her and the other girls how your Aunt Celine taught you: Cover up, keep your patterns hidden, cook for them, clean for them, make sure they always look beautiful, no fractures or faults in their image. And no faults of your own must ever be visible either.

You love your sister, there was never any doubt about that. And you love Mira and Zoey too, they were practically your sisters too. But you couldn’t help but feel… invisible and jealous sometimes. You wanted to perform too. Just once.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You were shaken from your thoughts by a smooth, male voice and a colorful flier being held out to you. Looking further up, your eyes widened and your face warmed at the sight of such a handsome guy right in front of you. You were no stranger to beauty working in the idol industry, but wow. Soft, black hair, warm brown eyes, clear skin and a soft smile. Your heart couldn’t help but skip.

“Uhm, I’m sorry,” You shook your head, trying to focus on listening to what the boy said. You couldn’t help but swallow thickly, your face still hot, “Can I help you?”

He smiled kindly, “My friends and I are having our debut performance this afternoon just a street over. We’d love for you to come watch and support us.”

Flustered by his charm and his beauty, you took the flier from him. “The Saja Boys…” You read. Looking around, you tried to spot the rest of his group.

You were startled when an arm suddenly landed on your shoulders. Actually, make that two arms.

Looking up, two more gorgeously unreal guys were on each side of you, an arm around each of your shoulders. One was a buff beauty with shorter magenta hair in a yellow beanie, his shirt hanging on for dear life. The other had longer pink hair that framed his face in a heart shape.

“That’s right,” the long haired guy smiled on your left.

“We’re the Saja Boys,” the buff guy on your right smirked. The two boys spun to slide into place on each side of the black haired guy, the three posing. “I’m Abby,” the muscle man posed, flexing which caused his shirt to strain.

“I’m Romance~” He blew a kiss at you.

“And I’m Jinu,” the black haired guy winked, smiling which made your heart pound all that harder to be the center of attention of three gorgeous guys. “We also have Baby and Mystery who are passing out fliers somewhere as well.”

“Right here, boss.” Oh great, more hot guys to make your heart explode.

A mint haired guy looked at you out of the corner of his eye as he walked past, joining the other three with a cool air. Another guy with long, pastel hair that covered most of his face walked past as well. Did he just smell you…? Was he purring…?

Oh boy. These boys were gonna give you a heart attack at this rate. Your heart was racing and you felt so flustered and awkward having their attention. “Uhm, wow, sorry, I’ll try to be there to support your debut! If you’ll excuse me,” You gave a small bow. Escape. Too many hot guys.

“You promise, sweetheart?~”

Your face flushed darker and you hurried away faster, “Y-Yup! See you there! Good luck!” You had groceries to get.

After getting enough groceries for you and the Huntr/x girls, you checked the time and noted that you had time to see that debut performance. The girls hadn’t texted that they headed back yet so they must still be at the doctors. Carrying the bags, you walked over to the other street, which was only a little more crowded than usual.

It seemed like you were just in time as a cloud of pink smoke grew in the middle of the street. You got closer as music started to fill the street and from the smoke, the five boys appeared.

“Don't want you, need you~ Yeah, I need you to fill me up~ 마시고 마셔 봐도~ 성에 차지 않아~ Got a feeling that, oh, yeah (Yeah)~ You could be everything that~ That I need (Need), taste so sweet (Sweet)~ Every sip makes me want more, yeah~” The black haired guy, Jinu, seemed to take the main vocals. The song was so bouncy and catchy that you couldn’t help but bounce your shoulders as the crowd grew around you. You got pushed to the front of the crowd and blushed as Jinu winked at you. You blushed, holding your groceries tighter.

“You're all I can think of~ Every drop I drink up~ You're my soda pop~ My little soda pop~ Cool me down, you're so hot~ Pour me up, I won't stop~ You're my soda pop~ My little soda pop~”

Okay, Huntr/x would always have your whole heartfelt support as your favorite group, but the Saja Boys were also really good… Like, if you weren’t Rumi’s sister, you might’ve jumped ship…

You were just a girl after all…

You blinked when some of the boys started blowing kisses into the crowd, launching hearts out of thin air. If they were just debuting, how’d they afford such great special effects…? These boys must’ve worked hard.

At least you thought so until you saw a flash of demon patterns and eyes on some of the boys.

You gasped. Were they… like you and Rumi? Part demons? Wait, no, they can control their demon features, you and Rumi can’t. No matter how much you tried to hide the growing patterns inching across your skin, it never worked. All you could do was cover up with long sleeves and pants.

They were just performing though. The girls would probably kill them as soon as they could once they caught wind of this demon idol group, because demons were all evil, emotionless creatures… But, if they were just demon guys performing because they wanted to perform, if they were nice demons, then wouldn’t that help prove that it was okay for you to live too…?

They helped the girl at the corn dog stand and gave those stressed kids some gifts, and they didn’t try to suck a soul once.

Your heart pounded, not just with how attractive the five were, but with hope.

The performance ended as the boys took their final poses before taking a moment to wave and send kisses into the crowd. As you scanned the group of boys, Romance sent you a flying kiss, Abby flashed you some finger hearts, Jinu’s smile widened at you, Baby raised an eyebrow at you, and Mystery gave a head nod.

What were you supposed to do now…?

[kenntoria]

you’re lying side by side with satoru in the dim light of your room, the faint hum of the city outside your window the only sound between you. your fingers trace lazy patterns on his bare arm, your voice soft, half teasing, half curious.

“hey, have you ever heard that beauty marks are the spots where your lover kissed you in a past life?” you ask, looking over at him.

he hums, eyes fixed on the ceiling, thoughtful. “sounds like something someone made up to romanticize scars or something.”

you laugh quietly, but then your hand drifts down to your own skin, pointing out the scattered little moles across your shoulders and arms. “look at these. if that’s true… then i must’ve been very loved before.”

satoru turns his head slowly to look at you, and you catch the faintest shadow in his eyes — something somber, distant. his skin is smooth, flawless. no marks, no traces of old kisses.

“what about you?” you whisper. “do you have any?”

he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, voice low. “no. doesn’t seem like it.”

your heart tightens just a little at the thought. so many past lives, and he never got to be kissed like that — never got to be loved like that, maybe.

without thinking, you reach over and press a kiss to his cheek, soft and warm. “guess i’ll have to change that,” you murmur.

he blinks, surprised, and before he can say anything, you start pressing gentle kisses all over his face — his jaw, his temple, his neck — marking him now, in this life.

“what are you doing?” he asks, voice quiet but smiling.

“i’m marking you for your next life,” you say, smiling back. “making sure you’re never without love again.”

he melts into your touch, eyes closing, lips parting slightly like he can’t quite believe it. and in the quiet dark, with your kisses still warm on his skin, he lets himself believe that maybe this life will be different.

“thank you,” he breathes, voice soft, his hand finding yours beneath the covers.

“always,” you say, and kiss him one last time before sleep pulls you both under.

[screampied]

#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.”