—ꕥ—

Toji’s breath hitches when he squirms pathetically underneath you, biceps bulging when he pulls at those fuzzy pink restraints tied to the bedposts. 

“Jus- want you to- fuckin’-” You’re squealing when you feel his thick, muscled thighs flex to plant his feet flat on the plush mattress, toned pelvis rippling. Body bowing up, up, up- “-move!”

It’s barely even a half-thrust, a grind - nothing in comparison to those long, thorough drags of Toji’s cock that you were used to. But the feeling of your every corner being stretched out so full after staying still for so long has you huffing and puffing in a way that has his swollen cock growing even girthier. 

“It’s been ngh-” you reach blearily for the phone at your bedside table to look at the time. “-47 minutes! Y-you don’t get to act this way, y’know. Not after you were so rude to my coworker when meeting him earlier.” But it comes out more breathless than you intended. 

Toji quirks a proud brow, cockiness seeping into his words now that he had you exactly where he wanted after so long. “No, I wasn’t.” 

You’re babbling needily when your boyfriend’s reaching up to kiss at your bruised lips. Soft and licking at the seam of your petty complaints. “You told him to ‘fuck off’ right to his face, Toji! N’ after he was just being nice.”

“Just nice”, his ass. Toji saw the way he looked at you - and he didn’t like it, not one bit.

So in response, all you’re getting is another buck of his hips like such an animal. Once. Twice. Body curling up into yours to stuff your snug channel full. He’s waiting just until you keen and arch back for more before halting so agonizingly still, letting his painfully hard cock mold your plush walls. 

You have to take a moment to collect yourself at the sensation of his prominent veins rubbing up against those hidden sweet spots only Toji could reach. To stop yourself from fucking back desperately. 

“Dontcha think I’ve hah- already learned my lesson now, c’mon. Look-” Greedy eyes locking down at where you straddled him, your pretty pussy lips spread obscenely around his thick shaft. So so angry, covered in a mouthwateringly glossy sheen of your sweet sweet juices. “-bet she wants to be fucked like the slut she is.”

The force of his sharp pelvis has you tumbling face-first first into his chiseled pecs, just enough that Toji’s latching his bullying mouth onto one of your hardened nipples. Smug scar grazing against your sensitive areola, “Besides, is it really my fault?” Another ram, another crash against your ravaged g-spot, pumping in and out like he was addicted to the soft tug of your clingy walls back - now past just cockwarming. Way past. “Please, s’my right to be jealous, doll.” you watch his lewd smirk turn into something grittier. Something that definitely didn’t bode well for your poor cunt. Muffling out, “Sick bastards gotta know when to stay away from my woman.”

Before you’re opening your mouth to retort - or maybe threaten him with tying his legs up, too, so he’s left with only another 40 minutes of cockwarming - a sharp ring of your phone cuts through that heady, hypnotic air. 

Toji only has to angle his head towards the flashing screen on the forgotten phone still dangling limply from your hand, and then his eyes are lighting up with such dangerous delight. “Answer it.”

“Wh-what?” you sputter. “Who is-”

Your coworker. 

“Answer it.”

It’s the slow, sultry push and pull of Toji’s hips that have now got you in such a cockdrunk daze, a soft ah! ah! ah! leaving you with every rhythmic grind. He’s using the handcuffs as leverage to arch his hips off the bed, inching you closer and closer to puff out a feverishly sweet kiss onto your forehead. Whispering gently, “Answer it f’me, doll.”

And no sooner is the soft pad of your shaky thumb swiping across the screen, that tinny voice of your coworkers blaring through the speakers that-

“Hello?”

SNAP!

The handcuffs are hitting the hardwood floors before realization hits you - and in all of three seconds, Toji’s hulking frame is set free. Two rough palms sliding to your hips and just slamming you down the entire length of his throbbing cock. Burying so deep inside your heavenly cunt that you could feel the scratch of his public hair against your clit, Toi’s heavy balls twitching against your ass. And his voice - low and rumbling with need when he’s pulling your whole body weight up, up, up to kiss at his leaky, pink tip. And down. Again. And again and again and-

“Let’s show this fucker how sorry I really am, huh?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - As long as you want, darling.

“Are you sure, my love?” Nanami whispers in your ear in a low, satiny purr. The hot water from that candlelit bubble bath he’d lit sloshing around just a bit when two large, rugged hands of his come down to massage your shoulders gently. “S’been a long day.”

And, really, it has. A long day of overly picky clients and an even pickier manager - a long day that your lovely husband was slowly crumbling away bit by bit. Chest rumbling behind yours, legs intertwined with yours in the water, thick cock stuffed deep in your cunt. 

You’re slowly nudged back into reality when he’s planting a lazy, heated trail of open-mouthed kisses down your shoulder. “If you want to sit in silence we can do that, too, darling.”

“No, s’okay, Ken.” It’s all you can do to manage out a hazy shake of your head, looking up from where your back was pulled flushed against his hard, sculpted front. Grinding the curve of your ass back to drag against his abs, skin-on-skin. “Want you.”

Fuck, that has him twitching like a man starved inside you. And the stretch, oh - it made your toes curl in depravity, head spinning at just how much your gummy walls were being molded to the exact shape and size of him. Memorizing every little curve and pattern of lewd throbs along your pussy. 

A low rumbling sound in the back of his throat, heavy balls so so ready and squeezing painfully at your obscene words. 

“But- you know if I go rough on you-”

You kiss his sharp jaw, licking languidly along the long column of his milky throat. Drinking in his heady, masculine scent to murmur, “And I want you now.”

And, well, how could Nanami Kento ever deny his pretty lil’ wife?

Which is why, in all of three seconds, the man himself had you reaching across the bathtub on all fours. Knees weak and shaking like a newborn fawn where he held you up easily by your hips, swollen cock still angry and splitting your poor cunt apart from behind. 

“Whatever my love wants-” you hear Nanami breathe out shakily, moving from the first time since he carried you inside the bathroom to reel every long fucking inch of his girthy cock out, out, out from your sloppy hole. And if you angled your head back just right you could catch that messy glisten of your slick down his shaft. All the way until his fat tip was smearing all over your glossy folds. Waiting. Greedy. “-she will get.”

And his words were so sincere - solid, thorough, just like the dizzying thrust he was gifting your poor cunt with. Stretching that first rim of muscle so wide, feeding your pussy every inch he could give. 

“O-oh-” you moan brokenly, your thighs already shaky with the stimulation of having Nanami squeeze his fat shaft down in bullying thrusts just to fit his mean cock inside. “Oh my god, Ken s’already so much-”

“M’not even halfway in.” he’s hushing away your pretty cries with a line of kisses down your arched spine, finally settling to crash his lips against yours. Bare chest rippling with muscle, “You can take it. You’re my good girl, right? Gonna take my cock until you forget all about that hngh- bad day of yours?‘

It’s like clockwork the way you’re nodding so dazedly, not even sure what you even agreed to until Nanami’s pushing in proud, powerful rams of his hips. Tip so hefty, leaking so much precum down your cervix - down the corners of your sopping slit. 

“You’re so big-” you whine, ass stinging with the harsh smacks into his front. Screwing your glassy eyes shut, “S’too much, ngh-”

“Hey hey, now.” your husband tuts against your ear, the damp metal of his ring cold when he swipes softly at your cheek - refusing, for even a moment, to take off that evidence of his pure devotion to you. “Keep those gorgeous eyes of yours open, my love. Just look-.”

Coaxing those cockdrunk eyes of yours open exactly the way he always did, Nanami only smiles when your kiss-bitten lips drop into a shocked oh! 

Because fuck, it didn’t matter how many times you took him - Nanami was always so massive. So unapologetically obvious when he was inside you. Your puffy folds spread shamefully, that bulging divot of his fat head peeking out, showing you in real time exactly how harshly he was crashing against your g-spot. Bruising. Sloppy.

Over and over and-

“Takin’ me so hah- well.” You mewl at the never-ending gush of praises, every lingering thrust of Nanami’s hips increasing in pace. “Wish you could feel- how wet you are.” He’s sliding a palm down your water-slicked skin, cupping the mess made of your cunt. “-how tight. How-” Body convulsing when you feel Nanami’s wedding ring so chilly against the heated part of your clit. Being rubbed into it over and over when he’s rolling the pad of his thumb in slow, sleazy circles. “-perfect. How perfect you are f’me.”

“K-Ken-” you’re whining, and Nanami already knows what you’re about to say - of course, he does. Immediately pinning your two arms behind your back with one of his much bigger ones, holding you upright to fuck into your dripping cunt harsher. More calculated. “M’close- m’close m’so-”

“So cum f’me.” he hisses, letting your fingers dance up to tug and graze his undercut all you pleased. “Cum f’me like a good girl.”

You don’t even realize it when you do - too caught up with every crashing kiss against your bruised g-spot. Every spike of white-hot pleasure when Nanami’s massive cock massages your walls so right. Fucking you over and over through your high. 

Until all you can do is scream out his name, until all you can do is kneel there and take it while he’s absolutely ravaging your cunt - no thoughts of whatever bad day at work on your mind now, only filled with Nanami and the need for more, more, more-

Until you’re turning to hum deviously, “Your turn.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - HOURS

Times like this, Geto Suguru loved to tease you, loved to push the limits and see exactly what would make that pretty lil’ mind of yours tick. 

Times like now - when he had you laying so peacefully on top of him, your lolling head moving gently up and down with his heavy breathing, his legs dangling off the other end of the couch, eyes firmly trained on the shitty action movie playing on-screen.

It would be almost wholesome, if it wasn’t for-

“Sugu…”

Ah, there it was. 

“Yes, gorgeous?” Geto tries to hold back that dark glint in his voice. A smirk curling the edges of his strained words when you clench your clingy walls around him as a sort of punishment, shifting desperately. “Don’t like the movie?”

You’re hissing out through firmly clenched teeth, tugging on his skin-tight shirt to get your beloved boyfriend’s attention - but, alas, it doesn’t work. “The movie’s not the problem-” And lo and behold, you’re fucking your trembly hips back so deep against where he’d buried himself inside you about half an hour ago. Ass shifting on top of his heavy balls, clit throbbing on top of those neat tufts of black, your familiar movements trying to get him to massage his fat, weepy veins against your sweet spots again. “-it’s your fuckin’-”

“Ah ah, language, my girl.” he’s whispering, still not sparing your cockdrunk self a glance. Despite the way his achy head nudges in desperation against the bullseye of your g-spot in a way he knows will have you keening. Leaky divot meeting your bundle of nerves making you go insane after cockwarming him for so long. “S’jus’ getting to the best part.”

Fuck, you didn’t care - didn’t even remember the name of the movie you two were watching at this point. 

But what you did remember was the way this exact scenario played out last time - when Geto decided to really pull out and continue with the movie marathon as if nothing happened. Just the memory has your needy pussy twinging in annoyance, trying even harder to suck him up depravedly. 

And yet, all you can manage out is a few grumbles about “getting him back soon” and forcing your eyes back on the screen. Only gives occasional nudges and grinds down to nestle him cozier against your plush walls.

And you succeed.

That is, almost. 

Until it gets to that erotic scene. A hazy blinking up at Geto told you he already knew this would be in the movie, high cheekbones flushed, watching your every single reaction from the corner of his dark, dewy eyes. 

You’re teetering precariously on top of him when his achy dick twitches even harder in interest. Your slick coming down in hot oozes that soak his entire bottom half. Glistening in the light of the tv and helping you slide your sloppy pussy across his fat length. 

“Suguru…”

Full name? Damn, he was in some trouble.

But, like the absolute bully he is, Geto only lets out a low whistle. A large, soft palm coming down to knead at the fat of your ass, stretching and pulling to help you hump your pussy even deeper. “Some awful actin’, huh?” he grunts, eyes still locked on the movie. Hips stuttering up as if unconsciously - primally, “Bet we could do a whole lot better.”

But, two can play that game.

“We could.” you whine syrupy and pitched higher than normal with lust. “Such a hngh- shame, though, right?” And at his surprised look of confusion, you’re plowing on smugly, “Because you’re on a sex ban for the next month.”

The reaction is immediate - pained eyes snapping onto yours, his pretty pink lips dropping into a shocked oh! and Geto’s spouting out unabashed, “Awww, c’mon, gorgeous don’t be like that. Wasn’t serious, wasn’t—” Panic veiling his actions when you bluff moving to get off. Yet, he plays right into your hands, heavy fingers sitting you back down on his cock to meet in a shallow thrust, molding at your elastic walls. Claiming, “-as if I’d ever deny you, gorgeous.”

And you can’t get another word out before he’s steadily using all those hours at the gym to his advantage to bounce you along his lap in a steady fucking. Slamming right up to where your pussy lips smashed into his hip bone.

“You’re so weak, Sugu–”

Hell, so what if he was the one that broke first? 

Oh, he can’t deny though, the way just how needy you were - how you were pouting up at him with those sultry, beautiful eyes of yours to “just fuck me right” - has him throbbing achingly inside your heavenly walls. Stretching out that gummy channel to its limits, until you could feel every ridge and curve along his massive length. 

“Mhm, m’weak.” Geto rasps, arms tightening around your waist to hover your entire body up. “But- only for you- ngh, only for-” And he’s barely even stuttering his hypnotic cadence before spreading his legs firmer, moving his quick, bullying thrusts enlarging your filthy hole. Geto’s abs burning, thighs straining. “-you n’ this pretty cunt, y’know.” Like a - very overdue - little apology for toying with you so much, one of his deft hands dip down to roll and tweak your puffy clit between two slender fingers. Promising. Faster. Flashing a look in your eyes that told you he was about to make it so you couldn’t walk for a week, at least. “So you better not think of hah- something stupid like a sex ban.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 13 min.

Choso couldn’t tear his greedy gaze away, couldn’t stop aching for more and more of that delicious stretch of your gummy walls around him. Feeling so lecherous with every beat of silence spent devouring the pretty sight of you. 

The way you were splayed out like such a slut for him on your once-fresh satin sheets, bent into such a mean mating press he didn’t think himself capable of. Laying your boneless body out in that obscene pool of cum and slick, only spreading farther and farther with each twitch of his poor, overstimulated balls. 

“Ch-Cho!” your honeyed, broken gasp him blinking back those big fat tears of sensitivity. And fuck he swears he could feel that lewd slosh of his seed coating against your gummy walls in a sticky sheen. “Cho, why are you- ngh! Getting hard again? It’s only been about ten minutes-”

That has him looking down in surprise, ravaged raw lips falling into a fucked-out oh! at that sight of your puffy folds being spread further and further with the way all the blood in his body was rushing to his achy cock. Bulging. Slobbering down your slit to coat him all glistening and ready to slide in again. 

“One more. Had enough of waitin’ around.” Choso rasps, words slurring out so quiet that you almost think you imagined it. “O-one more time, baby–”

He’s leaving no room for you to answer - for you to even think, to breathe before giving your sopping wet cunt an experimental thrust. Dewy eyes falling half-lidded and dangerous when he watches the way his cum gushes down your thighs in warm dredges at the simple gesture. 

“I thought-” your nails rake down his toned back to leave red, angry lines of pleasure. “I thought you said we were jus’ gonna hah- cockwarm right now, Cho? To make sure it takes?”

And it was true, he wanted to make sure you don’t waste a drop of his seed, to have you painted white with him for as long as he possibly could - well, maybe partially out of your boyfriend’s own perverted desire. But, really, what’s the harm in a little self-indulgence?

“Please! Please I know I know, baby.” he’s pleading. Ignoring the ringing in his ears, the dizziness in his vision to kiss the glossy pout of your candied lips so soothingly - missing, a few times with how utterly wrecked you had him. “But you can hngh- take one more, right? Just one more, f’me? Please?”

One more - he’s whispering out that little manta over and over with each gifting, filthy crash against your g-spot. Fat tip so soaked with all the mess of your juices that it slides a thorough line right across your bruised cervix. That makes you keen, it makes you cry, it makes you just arch your back off the mattress to push you even deeper down Choso’s swollen cock. 

You mewl when he’s licking a long, languid stripe up the sultry teartracks down your cheeks, “Yes, but- but Cho you should rest-”

As if that would stop him - not when every shred of his sanity is dancing away from him to the smooth staccato of his rolling hips. 

Choso hisses when his bruised lips are crashing against yours, entire body jolting because the sheer stimulation after only this long since cumming is driving him insane. Too much. 

You buck your hips wildly when he’s angling his toned pelvis just right to smack that divot on his thick head onto your already-raw sensitive spots. Convulsing uncontrollably to let out a few wispy globs of cum that fill you up from the bottom of your pussy - an orgasm you don’t think Choso even realizes. “F-fuck- did you just-”

The pool grows even wider.

“Yes- no.” he gasps, before immediately reeling his hips back and forth again like a man starved. “Maybe. But one more- just one more, baby. Please.” Your sloppy make out is now tinged with the salty taste of tears - both yours and his. Because with each slow, cautious drag of his cock marking your elastic walls, a fresh wave of sensitivity hits him. “Please- wanna cum. Need to cum. Please please please one more- please.”

He didn’t know who he was begging at this point - you or him. Holding such a vice-like grip on the easy curve of your hips to keep you from running away while he fucks you into the mattress for the nth time tonight. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck can feel you in so deep.” you murmur hazily, bringing a hand up to draw an invisible line around the middle of your stomach. “Can feel you right in here-”

“Oh yeah? That so?” he’s smirking uncharacteristically. “Soon ‘nough m’gonna have you hngh filled all the way up until-” He drags a thick, lazy index finger of his right up the sensitive bud of your clit. Up, up, up to wrap a large palm at your throat, “-here.”

And you can’t help but think he looks so pretty - so absolutely wrecked with his dark hair untied, sticking in stray strands to his forehead. Flushed to the absolute roots from the apples of his cheekbones, his droopy eyes. Biceps bulging out attractively when he squeezes around your racing pulse. 

Somehow, you manage to choke out, “Do it then.”

That’s all it takes for your poor, absolutely ruined boyfriend to cum. Cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop - didn’t want to stop. 

Greedy gaze falling shut so sensually when your gummy walls squeeze the soul out of him, drinking up every single rope after rope of his hot seed. Sticky, oozing globs that thin out into nothing but blanks - and he’s still fucking your heavenly cunt through his high. 

Still in the throes of his orgasm when he whispers, “Baby- my baby, are we really sure it took?” Fingers squeezing tighter around your gasping throat, “Maybe we should try one more time.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Honestly? 1 hour 26 min.

“Hngh-” you’re hiccuping, the front of your drenched panties leaving a lewd smear of glossy slick all over Sukuna’s abs. Dragging out his name in such a honeyed, needy whine, “Sukuna—”

With a growl, he’s gripping a fistful of your ass, holding your squirming hips so flush against his toned pelvis that he could feel every minute quiver of your puffy pussy lips. Every new bead of your sweet sweet juices slobbering down his front and onto the sobbing cock stuffed still inside your gripping cunt, “What, woman?”

You’re gifting him with a pouty kiss, the kind he’d never admit makes his painfully tight balls squeeze in depravity, “Don’t hafta be so mean.”

“M’not.” he grumbles, and yet gifts the mound of your cunt with a sharp smack! of his large palm. Soothing over the burning brand, “S’jus’ that someone decided to- hngh-” Muscled pecs rumbling with the memory from just a few hours ago, “-make me miss my morning meeting by being such a slut, hm? Just crying to ‘feel, tha’s enough.’”

That work meeting was long done now, having finished about half an hour ago from what he could spy from that clock across your bedroom. Doesn’t matter, as CEO he could miss all the fucking meetings he wanted - having a softer spot for you than anyone, anything. 

But that didn’t mean he’d stop teasing you - toying with you until you were begging for twice as long as that meeting was supposed to last.

“So, really-” his voice cuts through those needy little grinds of your hips. Mindless, slow - trying not to draw attention to yourself as you rocked yourself slowly up and down Sukuna’s fat hilt. Caught red-handed, it’s all you can do to squeal when he’s digging those long, black nails into your heated skin, holding you so agonizingly still. “-m’jus’ doing exactly what you asked, brat.”

The way you kick and wrangle your legs have him leering even wider, “What? Heh, got a problem with that?”

“Yes!” you’re keening, tightening your legs around his waist until you could feel the balls of your feet digging into the tiny dimples at the back of his spine. “Wan’ed you to ngh- fuck me- not- not-”

His tip is swiping across every inch of your sweet spot, pressing in so hard but doing nothing about it. Teasing you with such feral twitches against your tight channel, “You jus’ wanted me inside you n’ this cockwarming s’all you’re gonna get.” 

“Please?”

This earns you another rough slap on your bulging pussy, the pads of Sukuna’s five fingers branding onto your stretched-out swollen folds. Lingering a bit too long around your neglected clit. Assessing. 

And, suddenly, you know it means that smug façade of his is crumbling bit by bit - right along with his sanity. Gruffing out a ragged, “I said-”

And then you squeeze - oh, you’re clamping down your snug walls in such a way that has Sukuna cutting himself off with a throaty moan. The greedy gaze of his darkened red eyes flying open, head thrown back when his hips traitorously buck into you.

“Fuck- fuck, you little minx.” he spits into the soft kiss you’re planting on his lips. Glaring at you despite the way his weepy tip coats your cunt in an appreciative glossy sheen, “You think you’re sooo fuckin’ slick, huh? You think you hah- won this? M’still not movin’, woman.”

Batting your lashes up so deceivingly innocently, “I have no idea what you mean, Kuna–” 

Shit, the syrupy sweet sound of that sinful nickname sends wracking shudders all down Sukuna’s hulking body. Biting his lower lip to hold back a raspy moan, “Don’t.”

You’re only pressing your bare chest against his even closer, draping yourself all over like a second skin. Blowing a feverish puff of hot air down his steadily reddening ears, “I have no-” Pressing a chaste peck right at his cheek, his forehead. “-idea-” On the edge of his pink locks - exactly where you knew he loved but would never ever tell you. “-what you mean-” Before finishing off with the final blow, to thumb open his angry mouth. Eyeing in amusement at how easily he’s letting his tongue loll out already - pussydrunk and all ready for you to spit a steady glob of saliva once. Twice. Wiping off those intentional splatters at the corner of those pretty pink lips, “-Kuna.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ regret this.”

As if to prove his point, Sukuna is immediately pulling out - taking only a split second to flip you over to press your back against his broad chest. The bed creaks in protest as he sheaths himself inside your gooey cunt in one, harsh thrust. 

All of it - making sure you swallow every thick inch by fucking inch of that same cock you’ve been begging for all morning. He doesn’t waste a second before spreading his knees to smack those sharp hip bones against yours again. Doesn’t even wait for you to adjust. 

“You’re such a slut when you- hah- beg f’me, y’know that. Don’t know why you bother with that good girl act but-” Slap! For a moment, you wonder whether he smacked you - only to realize it’s the sheer power of his thrusts. Unforgiving, long drags in and out to fill you up in places you didn’t even know existed, bruising your flesh. “-at least I ngh- get to bring out the nasty bitch in you.”

Fucking you so relentles now. Your brain’s too fuzzy to even call him out on his little insult, managing out only choked up, “F-fuck you’re so- s’too good- Kuna.”

Those moans have him drunk, one set of thick fingers reeling you in by your pretty throat. So thankful he chose this position, because now he gets to fully let the ecstasy take over his face. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, face tinted a delicate pink, so fucking hot where he buries his face into the crook of your neck. 

“J-just shut up and take it, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 2 min. (and 15 seconds!)

“F-fuck-” he breathes out unsteadily. Blue eyes falling shut as he throws his head back in pleasure, and his lips have that freshly-kissed look to them when he’s groaning. “Fuuuck, m’sorry m’sorry. You’re gonna be the hngh- fuckin’ death of me, sweetheart.”

Now, the great Gojo Satoru already had an inkling about this fact by the time you’d caught him rifling through that batch of chocolates you’d been saving up for a week. Brows furrowed, foot tapping in anger. Whoopsies. 

And he already knew it’d be true when you’d shoved him down on the nearby couch and scolded him in that stern, sexy voice of yours that went straight to his aching dick. Toying with your glistening pussy while you straddled his toned lap, telling him to dare not move “or else.”

And fuck, he swear he saw the gates of heaven open up right then and there when you actually took him. 

But shit, now, Gojo didn’t consider himself a weak man - far from it, actually, he was the strongest and he knew it. And yet he’s never felt so utterly fucking helpless with his throbbing cock enveloped deep in your cunt where he couldn’t see, freshly leaky, angry tip hitting down that familiar path to your g-spot. But staying there. 

Unmoving.

So fucking agonizing that even you’re noticing the twitch of Gojo’s fingers on the plush of your hips, the way his jaw is clenching so tight. Raising an amused brow, “Toru?”

“Y-yes?” he yelps, voice a few octaves higher than normal. Jolting - and the movement is enough to cause a slight shift inside your dripping wet pussy. Tremors running down his spine at that sinful little taste of what he’s been craving so badly.

“Toru, you’re already such a mess.” you manage to giggle, purposefully grinding down in smooth gyrations that have his fat head drawing wet circles over and over around your sweet spots. “N’ I just put it in.”

“No!” Gojo’s whining hotly, big fat tears of sheer need pricking at his eyes. “No no no s’been more than long enough-” Gliding two large, pale hands to smooth over the globes of your ass, groping you to shove even more of his angry inches into your swallowing pussy. Ragged breaths coming out in gusts, “-please. Please.”

His words are breaking so sluttily at the end, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his pale throat when he’s lifting his impatient hips off of the couch - once. Twice. Desperately searching for some friction.

“Satoru, if you can’t handle cockwarming for more than two minutes…”

“Please!” And he looks so pretty begging like this, gasping out wet pleas into your open mouth. “I’ve hah- l-learned my lesson, my girl. Don’t hold out on me now.” Powerful hips stuttering up like he was hesitant on pissing you off any more. “Said m’sorry- see?”

You whirling to look down at where Gojo was lolling his head down in such a pussydrunk way, only to be met with the lewd sight of your snug cunt being split apart by his massive cock. Glossy lips spread, bulging - struggling with the effort to accommodate his girthy, pulsing shaft. The stretch.

The sight is something that makes you squeeze your clingy walls to take the shape of him - so tight that Gojo swears he could feel his breath being cut off. 

He hisses, words coming out so pained. Eyes half-lidded in wonderment at the way that tiny hole of yours gets stretched so obscenely around his thick hilt. “Ohh, fuck yeah. Thought you’d like that- yeah- yeah, just like that.” And you’re barely getting the chance to brace yourself before his hips are bucking up wildly. Like he was out of control - like he didn’t even know what he was doing right now. “S-sorry, said m’sorry. Fuck, m’sorry- sooo fuckin– sorry.”

Every breathy apology is punctuated by a heavy thrust, now fully forgetting that little punishment of his. IMean now. Pushing past that feeble resistance to fuck you all the way till you could feel that upwards curve of his dick branding against your cervix, your lungs. Over and over and- 

“Hngh- ah, Toru!” you’re squealing when he dances a long hand down to rub over your pretty clit. Soft palms wet with a gloss of your slick with each tight circle. Again. And again and again and- “Y-you’re still not forgiven, y’know.”

It wasn’t very convincing - not when your greedy hips are limply bucking down to try and meet his rough cadence. 

“I know.” he grits. “I know I know- fuck, I know.” Spitting straight into your sagging open mouth, he’s swiping at the lewd mess, “N’ I’ll buy ya more- buy ya the hngh- whole fuckin’ ch-chocolate store if you want.” Heavy balls smacking against your ass, pushing in powerful rams of his tip into your g-spot. Rambling drunkenly to himself now, “Just wanna- wanna-”  Tears of sensitivity are streaming down his face now, as wet as the mess he was making of your poor pussy. And it takes only a few anticipated, purposeful thrusts before- “-cum.”

You barely have the time to even register those thick, hot globs f cum being stuffed into the very bottom of your pussy. Filling you up with Gojo’s sin when he’s throwing his head back to moan, hips bucking up, up, up to paint your deep core white. 

“No no no no- no-”  he’s babbling, still shooting up sticky streams of seed inside you. Fingers so erratic on your cunt now,  Back arching up off the cushions to ram into you like some little ragdoll, from the very tip of his goading cock. “You have to cum- need you to cum, sweetheart.”

You’re just milking him, clinging onto him so tight it’s hard to crash his ruddied, sobbing tip even harder into your g-spot. 

It’s almost like he’s forcing it out of you, wrenching out a hazy orgasm where you’re seeing stars behind your eyes. A loud whine of your boyfriend’s name leaving your swollen lips when he’s fucking you through peak after peak-

“Is this a good time to tell ya I ate those leftovers you were savin’ up, too, or do I hafta beg for forgiveness again?”

“...”

A/N. Listen, I know that Sukuna would be a TYRANT CEO but it’s for the aesthetic ok.

⸻⸻⸻

The riff, the bass, starting notes shifting from F#5 to C#5: all were familiar harmonies to Barbatos' ears. It's odd, as usually festivities didn't start around the rising moon. Ideally around noon to account for preparations, though some would opt to drown their worries in the morning to fully immerse themselves in celebration at night.

He never anticipated waking up to the sound of speakers blaring the strongly magnified tones to breach the walls of the Demon Lord's Castle. He never imagined hearing static transforming into rhythmic tunes, with certain notes switching and playing in an alluring sequence. He, for one, never imagined for such music to play so strongly; drawing him out his bed as these notes dragged the butler by an invisible rope.

While he can and could predict it, Barbatos doesn't mind. He would put away all his power and oneself if it meant obtaining 'utmost satisfaction'.

As it was five in the morning along the Devildom clock. Around a time the earliest of early birds would wake up, yes, although most would be tucked to sleep; especially fellow RAD attendees where classes start 9 o'clock on the dot. Yet something compelled a glance out the window, a need to see something— confirm reality or cease the imagination.

It's not that he was compelled to check if the song itself was correct. Frankly, it was plainly obvious even to a casual listener. If you have a trouble discerning a song from many others as "all instrumentals sound the same" even when the latter song could be pitched at an octave higher, the lyrics reinforced that assumption.

"What's your thoughts about religion?" the voice growled out. Stable yet shaky, all while keeping a snappy tempo. As if each word paused right by a period or comma; semicolon or dashes while repeating the same set of harmonics for every subsequent syllable. "Are you close to your mother?"

Hook him by word of mouth, entrance him by the tongue. It feels so good — almost frightening.

Jade eyes momentarily widened, blinking. Barbatos had to pull the red curtain away to get a better glimpse. The sky stood still, vaguely illuminated by the neon city lights. You were standing on what appears to be one of Diavolo's unused vehicles: he could tell from the long angular model, the nonreflective maroon surface, and the firing golden plate number at its front. Hidden within dark igneous clouds, light tried seeping through every chance it got. Through hellish landscapes, you looked heaven sent.

"Tell me 'bout your dream vacation, and all of your ex lovers," the line delivery followed by the subtle click of your tongue. Immediately after that you had to move your fingers along the guitar strings as if you didn't want him to catch a break.

As if the moon abides in your favour, the light illuminated was enough to cast an iridescent spotlight. The white perfectly spit from turquoise and pink, hitting your sweaty cheeks and crinkled yellow shirt. While your five-year-old and counting electric guitar shone back most of the light, you were basked in it. Others reflect these colors, yet you embody them like crystalline gems.

Barbatos had to be honest, he gasped at the moment you whipped your hair back while seemingly losing yourself to the music.

"Is it..." the butler whispered to himself. He couldn't perish the thought of reality. You were there, right before his eyes, performing on stage but trapped in your own psychic tapestry.

In moments notice, he'd stand there frozen. The human, beloved by many, master of the avatars, representative of humanity, was strumming along to the guitar like a maniac. The long wires connected to large speakers, and not only that, you had a mic. A working microphone stand.

Many thoughts circled is head, and before one knew it, he had already been perched up at the balcony. Still in his sage green slacks, he clung to the marble ridges of the railing.

Tell him, what's that look on your face? The widest grin with a smile that reaches your eyes, added to furrowed brows while you squint to not get too blinded by the light.

"He puts his hands on his hips, begging 'please end this conversation'..."

The speakers thump to your every word, and all remains from the night before rolled up to a perfectly adorable little summary. For one, the shirt you wore irked the faint smell of Barbatos' cologne, and how it had stains along its seams.

You forced the mic closer to you, your legs tapping along to the music. "Baby said, 'when you talk, and I go dead' 'just your mouth, give me your head."

All it did for the ever growing fire in your soul to ignite was seeing him break into a smile. His elbow on the railing, his resting the side of his face on his had. You knew he'd really want this.

Does he deserve it? My my... You're a diamond.

Alone at parties in a deadly silhouette, it came to a drastic surprise when those who aren't too familiar with the Lord's butler had an affinity for such genre. Truly, they have never seen him in such a state of ecstasy.

Barbatos never seemed to be one to find things 'fun'. Delightful? sure. Exquisite? of course. Immaculate? perhaps. Enjoyable? Thrilling? Remarkable? There could be a whole manuscript of words, but 'fun' ousted itself like a young seedling amongst great trees.

Rarely has he ever reserved time for himself, and it is usually as a request from others. Not that he doesn't see the value in taking a break; he will surely indulge in it himself if necessary. But in Barbatos' eyes, it isn't practical.

In contrast to Diavolo, whose childish demeanor outshines his princely duties - much to the council's dismay - Barbatos was his guide. As Lucifer might've been the voice of reason who often takes responsibility for nearly triple quarter of the devil's work, Barbatos was a guiding light: an observant to be sure that no path goes astray. It was never not expected that others have a rigid view of his character, much less consider his other likes.

Yet why betray him the privilege of enjoyment? He truly hoped your perception of him didn't end there. If it did - how pitiful.

When he's particularly upset, he'd brew up the finest tea to the brash melodies of rock and metal. The serene atmosphere of golden highlighted crimson wallpaper, the smell wafts itself in the air with how small skulls shape themselves from the steam. And as you enter such a display, the first ever sound you'd here was the excruciating, hinting deathly scream of a low, raspy voice from the record player.

And he'd look up from sipping his tea, offering you a smile that only emphasizes his hospitality.

It wasn't practical, which was why he blends his favourite past times with his usual tasks. He didn't have to be in such a down mood for one to hear the snaring of drums and loud guttural growls from the castle's kitchen. Starting off with the Devildom's version of metal: rather hellish and would break the average mortal's ears by the first second. It's a special earful if you got the singles that sung it in their faction's native language. Though Latin would be Barbatos' preference "et in hora mortis nostrae".

That changed upon the introduction of human world rock. It's shallower, mellower to the ones he and any other demon is used to. But it's different. It doesn't necessarily channel a destructive output, yet it was a good change of pace.

That was far before you two started dating.

Months thereafter his adoration for the vividly wild instrumentals and appreciation to each throat-wrenching strain gradually grew. You knew that. When you're not looking, he's etching records of your song to always and forever, remember, Was there a moment where he'd skip a chance to listen to you practice? He'd always make time.

Until then, the little D's watch as the, once more, renowned butler of the castle wiggling his hands along imaginary strings, too deep in the moments as he waits for the kettle to boil. They admit, it was a rather endearing sight.

"Yeah, he's a master. Compliments!!" they'd all cheer. On occasion, Diavolo would witness these brief minutes himself. Actually? He'd watch silently before Barbatos quickly comes back to his decorum upon the sight of the prince.

Besides, it was more than enjoyable. Listening to him say the words "let me taste your silhouette, you can talk between my legs" was extremely entertaining. You wouldn't necessarily hear him say the exact words in person and that was the point, it was a form of expression.

What can the prince say? The tea tasted better when made with passion. And after that was the start of a normal day; well aware, the usual. This was a routine that everyone can get by on.

Just what felt like millennia ago, you and him were alone in one of the corners of the classroom. Free period; better to finish some additional seat work, though at this time you didn't feel like doing it. It just so happens to also be the hour where Barbatos was also free, so you'd consider this a win.

"Put your lovin' hand out baby," you spoke in a sing-song voice, extending your hand towards the butler. You sat on the wooden chair, your free arm lays on the backing as you leaned forward to resting your chins along your elbow. You legs wide opening to be able to sit in such orientation when the back was now the front.

Your darling only shook his head. "For sure you can do better," he teased, speaking in an every so slightly cocky tone.

You pouted your lips, cocking your head to the side. "But, baby, let me."

"You spoil yourself," Barbatos said. The legs of the chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it closer to you, finally sitting down at your side, close enough that your knees brushed against each other. You felt his presence near, and for a moment, it distracted you from the nagging thoughts in your head. You'd think you'd beg for more, but also something had been circulating your mind. August was near, and so far you.. needed confirmation.

You leaned back slightly, your fingers tapping absent-mindedly on the chair's back as your thoughts drifted. "I heard you've been listening to that band I recommended," you said, shrugging a bit.

It wasn't too long when you first recommended him Måneskin. Consider yourself the next Thomas Raggi, all the same you're confident enough in your skill level. You'd practice their songs in secret, hoping that, just once, you'd be able to perform for a single audience. You'd play it hard and fast 'cus you had everything.

He raised an eyebrow "Ah," his curiosity piqued. "I see the news has reached you as well."

"Gossip. And it's near obvious." You spoke with a hum, standing up from your chair. Still leaning onto it for support, your knees against the rounded edges. "So, what song are you listening to?"

That was a billion grimms' worth question. Barbatos paused for a moment, carefully considering his answer. You watched as his green eyes glance back at you, the subtle movement of his green hair flowing along to the tilt of his head in your direction.

"Hmm.. and why would you wish to know?"

You pouted again. " Please? "

Barbatos sighed. Truly, he was not exempted from any request when it was especially you. "Since you asked so kindly, then I shall."

All ears up, you listen to his words carefully. While not especially a favourite, he admitted: "Baby Said".

You nodded along in understanding, thinking on how to practice this while your subconscious human turn to your own depiction of the said song's instrumental. Only one thing was on your mind on that moment — "ohh.. good taste."

You hadn't even noticed him leaving the room, too focused to listen to the ongoing conversations. Your fingers snap themselves to the beat of the song; well the electric guitar had always been the highlight.

To think you held his heart captive twice in a row was a near understatement. Even so, it takes a lot of meticulous and carefully curated, well-thought-out actions to effectively hide surprises from Barbatos. Seriously, you wonder how he's well aware of everything, powers aside. It's not like he always uses it.

You felt shivers from the night before. His taste lingering from your tongue, the blurry memory of his hands tracing the side of your body. How you had to cover yourself with the large satin blanket, trying to at least be a bit modest.

It was a miracle how he managed to have a bed in a room filled with hexes, portals to other universes and other forms of magic. Amidst all the unsightly elements, his room was tidy.

Though you aren't the most careful of individuals. Loosening yourself from his iron grip wasn't enough, but to do so without moving too much was beyond a hassle. Furthermore, sliding off the bed instead of lifting yourself up felt as if waking him up would be the end of you.

Nonetheless, it was partly manageable.

You had no choice. Beggin' and prayin' you hadn't caused that much of a mess. You also cleaned out a few of your valuables out of courtesy- if you were able to identify them to begin with. The mix of whole and shredded fabric in a dim lit room should be a crime in itself.

That should answer most of the embarrassing questions. You hopes that he wouldn't mind a more... well, residents say "annoying" or "unethical" which was a whole irony in itself, but for you you can just refer to it as: convenient.

And it was worth it.

Your eyes looked back at your beloved, whose attention dangles from above the balcony. You couldn't help it, you just had to let out a playful scoff at that.

Ignore the microphone, the gardens were your amphitheatre. No static can overcome the sudden impulse to surge through the buildup. To let all realms hear your hearts-and-tears rendition. It may cause a strain in your voice, but you didn't care.

"I wish he didn't but my baby said!"

Pools of pink and gold swirl in your irises. A sharp, crazed look adorned your otherwise earthly features. There's the insanity oozing itself out your system, prying out the shell it had been oh so desperate to break every since you started practicing the song. Was it a month or two? A concrete timeline didn't matter; your feelings hated the waiting.

Sing him praises over and over, it's music to both of your ears.

Repeat lyrics as if the last one wasn't loud enough. Louder. Until heaven knows your voice will experience hell for days.

Moments after your song finished you jumped out of the car to immediately greet your lover as he opened the door to the castle. You could see him, always presenting him prim and proper, now a bit disheveled from the stereo beat of his heart.

You chuckled, flipping your hair as you placed a hand on your hip, "did you like it?"

With one final inhale, Barbatos recomposed himself once more. Standing up straight, fixing up his sleeves; though one notable difference was how relaxed his expression had become. How his smile has gotten wider, lightly touching the corner of his eyes.

"I'm flattered you think so fondly of me."

You rolled your eyes, raising a brow as you leaned your back against the door of the car. "And miss out? Please, I can never do this again now, hmm?"

The latter simply nodded, closing his eyes as he raised a hand to his chin. "You're correct on that assessment."

"Heh.." you huffed out. You got up and started walking towards Barbatos, placing a hand on his shoulder and the other caressing the sides of his face. It's as if no amount of emotions you poured out earlier would encompass all of what you simple adore of this butler. You could hear the distant complains of elder demons, though they are easily dismissed. For now, you leaned closer to give him a small kiss on the cheek.

"Happy Birthday Barbi," you cooed. "'Love ya."

Barbatos simply nodded his head once more. Grabbing your wrist, he softly leans his cheek closer, encapsulated in the warmth of your hand. Even in the faintest voice, you could make out a small "thank you."

You startled him at first, but now that you finished your bedazzling serenade, Barbatos needed a time to breathe. How you'd notice your own reflection within his glossy eyes — from waking up to early or from the awestruck faxed you put him on? We will never know.

Barbatos pulled you closer, the feeling of his soft lips on yours sent an electrical chill down your spine. It caused you to shiver from shock, but slowly melt into it. It's one to express your gratitude verbally, but the swelling of emotion you caused him may have required a different outlet for output.

"I love you most, dearest."

A couple seconds to spare is more than enough to satiate a lover's requirement, though he'd gladly be greedy enough to want more. You can't make yourself oppose it; that's what your baby said.

note.s : take a wild guess on what time did i start writing this because, looking back, this feels like such a huge... opportunity. i promise that i'm working on type i error, it's just my schedule for the past few days had fucked itself over- but nonetheless, i'm happy that i was at least able to make something special ^^

again, this is more self indulgent than anything but please, it's barbatos. anyhow, that's all for now hehe~! also as promised to a certain someone, @youngwonhee here's your ping <3