Tumgik
#only posting this to get the smuts going
suyacho · 9 months
Text
“why is everything smut” because you guys seem to not give a single shit for anything unless it’s smut, leave the sfw fluff & angst creators in the dust and only come on here to complain about what we write in out free time instead of supporting the people on here.
edit: this post is not meant to shame any smut writers, i’m one of you guys LMAO, it was about one of the stupidest catches i’ve seen circling around & me being annoyed over it.
964 notes · View notes
scarybagel · 2 years
Text
just a little more
Pairing: marc spector x reader, with some steven grant x reader 
Warnings: explicit, smut, oral sex, overstimulation
A/N: this is just a drabble. i’ve never posted smut before, but these boys do something to me and i am trying to exorcise some horny demons.
Tumblr media
Marc wants to consume you. He wants every part of you, all the time, with the kind of urgency that has broken bed frames and ripped too many nice pairs of underwear.
He doesn’t explain it. That’s not really his thing. Steven is the one who harps on the details, who’s always worrying over the what and why. 
Marc just wants. 
He wants to touch you and taste you, wants to runs his hands and tongue over every inch of skin. He’s insatiable. Whatever you give (and you’d give him everything, gladly, eagerly) he only wants more.
And you can’t help getting a little drunk off it. The desire. The lust. The way that he looks up from between your thighs, eyes hooded and mouth shining with your slick. You’ve never been wanted so much, so completely. 
And it drives you a little crazy.
You’ve already come twice. Steven had gone first, his hand slipping beneath your sleep shorts as you watched a documentary. Well, he was watching — you were starting to fall asleep. 
Until you felt the gentle glide of his fingers over your mound, the soft scrape of his teeth over your collarbone. He’d made you come just like that, your face pressed into his shoulder, his fingers toying with your clit until you gasped and arched into him.
“That’s it, darling. So gorgeous. So lovely for me,” he’d murmured.
And then it was Marc who scooped you up and carried you into the bedroom. He’d pressed you into the mattress, that look burning in his eyes, and buried his face between your legs. You’d come again, thighs shaking around his head, his arm braced across your stomach, holding you down.
But he doesn’t let up. His tongue flicks hard against your sensitive clit, and a shockwave radiates through your body.
You squirm in his grasp, needy, desperate. You’re flushed and dripping, but you still want more. The way he’s looking at you, the way his mouth is moving hungrily against your cunt — the lust is catching, contagious. It burns up your spine, a live-wire of desire.
“Please,” you pant, grinding your hips against his face, “Please, Marc, more.”
He pulls away slightly, and there’s that look again. That burning. Like he would eat you raw, swallow you whole. In the haze of your last orgasm, you think that you wouldn’t mind so much.
“More?” he asks, his voice low and rasping, “Does my baby need more?”
You whine softly, canting your hips up, chasing his mouth. He just chuckles and leans further away.
He taps your hip and mutters, “Over.”
He says it simply, as a command, and you’re almost too eager to follow it.
You can feel his eyes on you as you turn for him, bracing your elbows against the tangled sheets.
His hand strokes gently over your ass, down to your soaked and swollen pussy, gently dipping his fingers into your wanton, fluttering hole.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, “Such a messy girl. So fucking wet for me. And you still want more. Is that right, baby?”
You whimper, every nerve on fire. You can feel him shift closer, his warm breath raising goosebumps on your skin.
1K notes · View notes
wongyuuu · 2 days
Text
so, hi!
i just wanted to say that starting this sunday i'll be blocking all empty blogs. if you don't have a icon, header and at least a couple posts on your blog you'll be soft blocked.
though my fics have a high number of notes, recently i felt like i've been writing into the void. and when that happens i always get the feeling that what i write is not even worth a comment. i'd much rather have a smaller number of notes if it means i'll have more interaction with those who read
i've asked, i begged, and nothing seems to work. this is my last try at this thing
8 notes · View notes
daz4i · 9 months
Text
"the characters only have like 4 traits and are super boring" girl i think you're just ignoring all their depth by refusing to engage with them beyond the surface level text
11 notes · View notes
kangaracha · 7 months
Text
wips list
nevermore (120k)
queenmaker (3 chapters)
lyre lyre (1/4 done)
FNF (dear fucking lord keeps i hate it here)
what the water brought/pirate au
boxer!minho? dlc? something
pretty ch 4
the gone and the gathered ch 3&4
valleys (66k)
torture fic x3
tgbyb ch 4
tsotl end part 1
darling don't wake up x4
goldmine goldmine (landmine) all of it
soul is yours to keep/zelda fic
draculas
heart rewrite
where the river bends
rabbithole/angel/the stars in your eyes
all that is good/holy
4 notes · View notes
findusinaweek · 1 year
Text
watching playthrough of Amphipolis and Brasidas’ death for.... research....reasons....and whoever played this had Alexios and Brasidas at odds with each other. Arguing about loyalty before the battle. I cannot see this as them not just fighting about loyalty to Sparta, but some slight between each other. I want to shove them in a room and give them the time to talk things out.
12 notes · View notes
kakusu-shipping · 1 year
Text
Finally decided to jump in AO3′s Mariocest collection, which is really good btw I recommend Priorities Rewritten by Karatecake, easily my favorite one I read all night
Anyway I accidentally ended off on an Angst/Unrequited Love/Dark fic because I apparently cannot read warning tags so now I’m sad and it’s 5am so I have to go to bed sad
Tumblr media
6 notes · View notes
impeccablebackside · 1 year
Text
It had been a while, but the idea of bending Rumple in half and making her whimper was not on Mungo's mind as much as it could have been. Of course, fucking her would be the best thing he could possibly ask for, but he truthfully has had other things to think about. Sometimes life just gets busy, and they go long(er) periods between frantic sessions. The ball was coming up, but he realistically did not need much preparation for it. Every year him and Rumple caused their usual brand of chaos, and they had performed their song countless times now.
In the end, they have always made up for dry spells, and he reminds himself that he is patient enough to wait for his treat. His queen knows just how to reward such good behavior, and he cannot help but drop everything to please her needs when she calls his name in such an alluring way. Just the thought of her sounds and body keeps him going most days.
Walking back to their shared den after a spirited morning of lovingly bothering whoever he crossed paths, Mungo was planning on a quieter afternoon of rest before getting up to the usual shenanigans of his nights. Entering into their little private space, he is surrounded by all of the stuff he has stolen and kept away. Walls full of glittering jewelry, floors full of soft cushions, with one centralized catbed in the middle of it all.
Expecting to come home to an empty den, he is a bit surprised to find Rumple rustling around inside. As per usual, she is her excited self, humming along to herself as she wiggles around and fiddles with things. It takes a moment, but Mungo realizes that she is wearing her song costume, which catches him off-guard. She usually only wears it during the ball or when they are practicing their song together. Standing in the entrance, he just watches her as she quietly dances around, taking in the sight of her.
Mungo is a pretty simple tom when it comes to things that turn him on, but there is something about the costume that drives him wild. Perhaps it is the significance of it, where they both have near magical sex post ball, perhaps it is the way garters and stockings show off her legs, perhaps the way the leotard squeezes her in all the right places and shows off her perfect ass. Maybe it is just all of those things together, and the fact that he thinks she is stunning to begin with. The costume just adds some extra spice. Her ass though, he thinks as he stares, watching it jiggle a bit with every little move. Maybe that is just it.
"It's about time you showed up. Are ya just going to sit there like a moron?" The words jolt him out of his trance, unfortunately really. Given the surprised look on his face, Rumple continues, "Did you honestly forgot Mungo? C'mon you know we have to practice before the ball. It is literally in a few days!" It suddenly dawns on him. The ball is indeed just a couple of days away. It must have just slipped his mind.
"Oh alright, you little pain in the ass. How come you didn't remind me? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one?"
"You big orange dope, we're both the smart ones! Look at all this stuff we've stole. You think two dumbasses like us could get this without some whisper of intelligence. What do you take us for?" she blurts with a giggle. The way she smiles, along with the look of fierceness in her bright green eyes, always makes Mungo get flustered. Somehow, at least once a week, they have the same little argument, and they always reach the same conclusion.
"Well, I uh, yeah you are right. Have I ever told you that you are also the beauty behind these operations?" he stammers, trying to sound suave. It is not very effective.
"At least once a week, but I never get tired of hearing it. Now get ready and get yer crap on," she says beckoning to him and his costume with respective paws.
Slipping it on quickly, Mungo is ready to roll. They share a glance before speaking at the same time, "Well c'mon now, let's get on with it." Laughing at the other, they assume their starting position. Running through it, they dance their entire routine up until their cartwheel multiple times, singing each part as if they are professionals. In a way, they are. Moving together as if they share the same mind. Having gone through it enough times, they start to joke around, belting out random names while singing. Mungo introduces himself as Scharrelnelis and Burma Charley, while Rumple yelps out Tingl-Tangl and Lorrenjopie. Trying out-do one another, they end up in fits of giggles and end up stopping. "Tingl-Tangl? What the hell does that even mean Teazer?"
Which is met with, "I think its better than Burma Charley! How do you even come up that?"
Breathless from all the practicing and laughing, they take a few moments to rest. Slapping her shoulder lightly, Mungo nods to his queen, "Best be doing some of those razzle dazzle cartwheels now."
"Alright, alright. Only a few though. I want to save some energy for later tonight," she nods back.
They roll through two sets, a spectacular array of arms and legs working as a solid unit. On the third run though, they get as far as Rumple leaping into Mungo arms before she stops. "Oh damnit, ran out of steam," loosening up her body in his arms. She is hanging upside down, her legs up past her tom's head. Mungo holds her there, unsure about what to do next. She had never stopped like that, and he finds it sort of fun to have a hold on her like that. "You can put me down whenever ya like y'know," she yells up to him.
The words fly past his ears, as at that point, Mungo is starting to get a better idea of what he wants to do instead. With a near face full of Rumple's pussy and ass, his needs have crept up and washed over him hard. Feeling something brush against her thighs, Rumple is startled by the feeling of Mungo rubbing his face into her center, letting out a quick gasp. With messy kisses and licks, he fights against the fabric protecting his prize. He can feel and smell the warmth of her, and he is determined to get his taste. Taking a few steps forward, he gently throws her down onto the edge of their shared bed. He stands over her, watching. The hunger in his eyes and the way he is licking his lips is a huge turn-on for Rumple. She wants to be lusted after, but in control, the object of unwavering desire for her partner.
She looks up at him, "Oh no, did my special guy miss this?" her paws running along her thighs, claws pulling little lines in her fur. No matter what, she cannot help but tease him.
Mungo just nods his head over and over, "Please."
Mimicking their song, she hops up onto her bottom and spreads her legs, reaching out with her right arm. "Well, I guess I cannot let ya wait to have 'dinner' tomorrow then," she says, giving him a mischievous eyebrow raise. Inviting him in to close the gap between them, when he is within reach, she grabs him by his croptop and pulls him downward with force. It has been a while for Rumple too, and she needs it now. Keeping her hold on the tom with one paw, she pulls her costume aside with the other, revealing her beautiful pussy. Giving it a rub, she slides two fingers up and down between her lips before spreading herself open. She is glistening wet, and ready for more. "Now," she commands, pulling his head down until he is forced to kneel to match the level of her hips.
With a big dumb smile, he says, "Alright, I guess it's too late to say to keep yer pants on. What's it that the owners always say? Bon Appétit or something like that?" the last words coming out in a cheesy French accent before he gives her heat a little lick and kiss.
"I swear to the Everlasting Cat, if ya don't shut up and -," she is cut off. Mungo, pent up from the dry spell and this lead up, cannot start slow. He dives in deep with his tongue, lapping her up with a vigorous pacing. "Oh fuuuck, right there. Oh god Jerrie, keep going," Rumple purrs. She slips her fingers through the messier fur on his head, gripping hold to keep his head between her legs. His technique is incredible, putting his noteworthy mouth to a different use. Rumple whines as he explores her pussy, kissing and sucking at her clit and folds with messy eagerness. He needs his queen to know how much he wants her to feel loved and happy, chasing her approval.
Drowned out by Rumple's louder whines, Mungo moans along as he eats her out. Even being the giver is still filling him with so much pleasure that he must let it out. Almost constantly vocal at the best of times, he has a hard time reigning in his excitement during sex. Little reverberations ripple through his lips and tongue as he hums against her. Everything is so good, and she tastes so heavenly, and her cries are golden, and her body is immaculate, and Mungo is just trying his best. Keeping his face buried in her pussy, he needs something to take the pressure of. His cock is throbbing for attention, so he quietly brings a paw down and jerks himself while continuing, never breaking his stride. It feels so good to be where he is.
"You're such a good boy to take care of me, my love," Teazer says between gasps. She is more breathy than he anticipates, but the meaning of her words hit him hard. Praise from her pretty mouth is more rewarding than anything, and he is even more determined to prove himself. He abandons his quest for release, bringing both arms around Rumple's waist to anchor himself and pull her even closer. Focusing on her most sensitive spot, he takes aim her clit, which gets louder whines out of his queen. Her paws fling out beside her, claws digging into the soft bed as she braces herself. Her legs flail around his shoulders before pressing themselves against his ears. Not long after he doubled down his efforts, Rumple squeals as she cums on his tongue. Her body tightens up as she rides out the first climax of the day, eventually relaxing while Mungo still licks away, never quite satiated with getting a taste of her.
Pushing his head away, she needs a moment to regain herself. Severing the connection gets a sad whimper from Mungo, but he knows better than to grovel for long. He straightens his back, still on his knees, waiting out for more. Rumple pulls her legs up to her ears, slowly spreading them apart, "You look like you're in a daze, c'mere and fuck me like ya deserve it." It does not take any extra time for him to rationalize it, leaping up onto his feet and grabbing her at the ankles, pulling her legs open. The look on Rumple's face is one of joyous excitement and frisky desire, and she squirms in place with anticipation. Bringing his hips against hers, he slides his cock along the outside of her pussy, enjoying the sight of her begging. He is not the only one who can tease a bit.
"Show me how much you want me," he says, pausing at her entrance. Rumple lets out a sultry purr, trying to sound more composed than she is feeling. Helpless in that position, she can only watch and wait.
With a swift thrust, he fucks into her, eliciting a mewl of approval. He is not so big, but fills her up just enough to make them both gasp. It is the greatest experience in the world for him. She is so soft and tight, and the warm feeling of her around him is utter bliss. Normally, he would start slower, but he is desperate for her body. Desperate to hear her whine. Desperate to get more praise from his love. There is no rhythm or plan in mind. He just needs her. With frenetic thrusts, he fucks her over and over again. Pounding her with fast and deep strokes, his mind is clouded by his lust. "Oh heaviside Jerrie! Ahh!" is all that escapes her mouth in loud cries. Easing the grip on her legs, he drops them down and leans over her, pushing more weight into his fucking. He moans to himself, groaning with each push of his hips, but only he is aware. On the receiving end, Rumple no longer can compose herself, her whines turning into near deafening wails. She tries to silence her yelps, bringing a paw in front of her mouth, but it is no use. She is not sure if Mungo has fucked her this hard before, and it is definitely worthy of the entire junkyard knowing about it. He is so eager to please her that he is unable to think about anything other than hearing her whine louder. His own pleasure is taking a backseat to her needs, and he would not have it any other way.
Mungo can feel his love clench more and more around his length as he continues on, and based on how her sounds are becoming more incomprehensible as he goes on, she is not far from a glorious orgasm. Neither is he, but the buzz in his mind is so deep that he can only fuck with feral intent. He has been forceful enough that he has pushed Rumple to the middle of their bed in his pursuits. Grunting, Mungo slinks up onto his knees, wraps his arms around each of her legs, and pulls her hips up. Frantically trying to deepen his penetration, he repeatedly gives her everything he can. Burying his length into her with enough vigour that his balls slap against her asshole. It all becomes too much for her, and with a leg shaking quiver and ear piercing high squeal, Rumple cums again. The climax ripples through her body, and her pussy squeezes harder around Mungo's cock.
It all feels so good, and knowing he has again made his love fall apart through his actions thickens the haze in his head. It is like he is drunk off of her taste and feel, and he cannot get enough. With a few more thrusts into her, his will breaks. Pumping wave after wave of his cum in massive surges, he starts to fill her up with his hot loads. He knows better than to give his queen a creampie without asking, but being pent up for so long has left him emptying himself into her soft heat without second thought. He cums so much that it starts to leak out of Rumple with subsequent strokes. Pulling out, his cum floods out of her swollen pussy, but Mungo is not done yet. With a couple jerks of his cock he shoots one final cumshot over Rumple's pelvis and the outside of her pussy before crumpling down in front of her hips.
"Holy crap Mungo, save some of yer jizz for the rest of the year," she exclaims. Bringing a paw down to her pussy, she feels around the mess left behind, "How much did'ya have in you? Has it really been that long?" Mungo just gives an indistinct hum, his body utterly spent from the energy exerted and from his lengthy climaxes. "Oh man, you got it all over my costume too," she says while wiping away some cum. "Don't just lay there you dummy, help me out. This isn't my splooge," she continues on.
"Alright jeez. It's like you didn't even like it," he says scooping her up by her hips. "I've a good idea how to get you squeaky clean," he beams, looking far more excited than he should.
"Promise me no baths Jerrie, y'know I hate water," she says flatly.
Much like he did to start their endeavor, he drops down to kiss and lick at her pussy again. Even messier with his tongue than before, he smears his face in her wetness and his own cum. Already sensitive down there, Rumple twiches in reaction as he goes on. Surprising her, he spins her around so that she is straddling his face, getting a playful look from the queen. "Gravity and all, you know," the words coming out muffled against her skin as he winks. Starting up again, it does not take much, but after a couple of minutes, she is cumming yet again on his tongue. This time she is much quieter, subdued from the previous releases. Mostly cleaned out and licked clean, Mungo slips his head out from underneath her hips.
Wearing most of the product of his newest exploit on his cheeks, he lays in glee trying to collect himself. A twinge of jealousy builds in Rumple, but she knows how to get square with him. "I want a taste too," she says before wrapping her lips around his cock, sucking him off and getting a little taste of what he left behind in her. Within a few dips of her head, Mungo lets go again, bucking his hips into her mouth as he shoots one more small bit of cum against her tongue. At this point, it is all that he has left in him. Pulling her head off, Rumple crawls overtop of him, meeting face to face for the first time in a bit. She makes two quick passes with her tongue, licking errant cum and her own grool off of his cheeks with the load still in her mouth. Locking eyes, they both grab one another's heads, passionately kissing deeply and swapping shared spit and cum between them.
When they break apart, Rumple speaks in a sultry tone, holding a paw on his shoulder, "You did so good my pretty boy. No one treats me like you do." She traces little patterns in his fur while continuing, "Nobody can make me feel so special, and don't think I didn't hear you moan for me." Her tone is so alluring, and he starts to get hard again, his girth brushing against her leg. "Really Mungo? Aren't ya running on empty. Could you even go again?" she exclaims, gesturing to his cock.
"Not at all. I'm sorry Rump, y'know I like when ya talk sweet to me. I cannot help it. My brain says enough, but my dick screams for more. It's like a pollicle wagging their tail!" he explains.
With a half annoyed, half endeared giggle, she pats his head a few times, "Well then, who's a good boy? My good boy?" He is, and he knows it.
5 notes · View notes
neverendingford · 1 year
Text
.
3 notes · View notes
thedeviousdevilxx · 1 year
Text
Folks please be fucking considerate of others on this site, and post your explicit reader x fanfictions under a READMORE LINK. Because folks do not consent seeing weird, kinky, sexually explicit stuff while scrolling through their favorite band/musicians tags okay?
Or what’s even better? Get an Ao3 account and share the links on your tumblr.
How many times have I been barraged with horrendously written fanfics while scrolling through tags wishing to see nice pics of my fav rock stars. I will and have blocked accounts on this site for this exact reason.
4 notes · View notes
mergrl · 2 years
Text
if you hate the angie fic literally dont tell me i dont want to hear it. im fragile. 
3 notes · View notes
tediousdelusion · 2 years
Text
as i am puzzling through divorce!au between doing more important Tasks, i am realizing that i have never written anything set in modern america (a necessity for a certain legal loophole to work in this au) and just... the sheer absurdity of it is so fucking funny to me. like, you can just make up shit full of dumb americana. ed likes to put every flavor in the 44oz (1.3 liter) 7/11 slurpee. stede went to law school in georgetown bc it was the only t14 (read: Very Prestigious Law Thing) he get into and he paid full tuition. izzy hustles poker in atlantic city both as a stress reliever and for the spare cash.
4 notes · View notes
gorejo · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
▸ ▸ the longer you keep it up, the harder you’re getting fucked :p - gojo satoru
synopsis: you make a bet, but your boyfriend is the one that needs to fulfill it. catch is, if he succeeds then you'll get half a grand, but if he can manage till his birthday, then you'll get even more. and before he settles on the bet, Satoru warns you with one promise he knows he will fulfill. because the longer the bet goes on, the harder you'll be getting fucked when he succeeds.
content: 11k words (what in the world). afab!/fem!reader, she/her pronouns. minors do not interact. half of gojo's pov mixed with yours, reader calls him baby girl, explicit smut — fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, squirting, unprotected sex but only because reader allows and satoru asks for permission, pet names (sweets, princess, babe), explicit language. Satoru gets morning wood and an erection during his meeting. Megumi and Tsumiki almost catch him in the kitchen, Satoru imagines reader in a dress, mentions of masturbation, satoru has a private album of photos/videos, soft!dom satoru, he cums multiple times — inside and on readers breasts.
happy birthday to my lover boy!!!! 🎉 (i posted this on his actual bday, but it got booted from the tags.... )
Tumblr media
Satoru felt his vein pop. 
He should’ve known by the way you approached him, called out his name with an unusually cuter ring to his name — the one that left him usually helpless in your palm — to hear it, he’ll sacrifice the world. He should’ve known something was up your sleeves, when you pulled at the bottom of his shirt, playing with the hem as you looked up through your lashes.
Normally, he’ll never reject your advances nor your desires, especially when you were being this cute, but for this? 
Sometimes he needs to put his foot down — because you must be out of your mind.
How cruel of you to even ask him. Were the eight years of not being able to fuck each other not enough for you, that you just dared to ask him? 
“Absolutely not.” his voice was curt, short of the usual chime whenever he responded to you.
“Why? It’ll make it that much more exciting when December comes around, ‘Toru.” you hugged him tighter, looking up at him in hopes that it’ll get him to give in — it always worked. 
He had too, especially when almost half a grand was on the line. 
“It’ll perfectly align you know? since it’ll be your birthday then, as well…” you seduced while riding on your toes to have him look at you. 
“Do you want me to die?” Satoru cupped your face as he looked straight into your eyes, his large palms pushing your cheeks together, “and we’ve tried it, and guess what happened then?” 
“Well no…” your voice muffled through pouted lips, “b-but it’ll be different now! You’re older!” your grip loosened around his shirt, disappointed that he wouldn’t give in.
“If you know, then absolutely not,” he scoffed while letting go of your cheeks, his hands immediately finding your waists, pulling you closer to him, utterly offended you would even dare to pull back from him.
“and no it’s not. I failed then, I’ll fail again now. I’ll probably fail even worse than last time.”
“It’ll be so quick, the month will honestly fly by!” you quickly retorted, leaning your body onto his. 
“So you’re a liar now,” he crooked a brow, looking down at you with his jaws clenched from trying to stand his ground. Knowing he didn’t have the guts to really tell you no, especially when you looked so determined to succeed over something that had no means of any health benefits but potentially drive one insane — the experimental group? him — eight years prior when he tried the challenge.
conclusion: no nut november was unapplicable to one named Gojo Satoru.
Groaning into the crook of your neck, his breath gently ticking your skin, “I wanna be inside you all the time.” your boyfriend tended to always such perverse and ludicrous words with ease.
“D-don’t you think you’ll be so proud of yourself? We can do pilates or meditate together instead —” your voice stuttered from the sudden mesh of his lips on your skin and the gentle breeze of his breath coating your neck. 
Annoyed that you were continuing with this, Satoru lightly nibbled on your skin, smirking when he felt you jolt in his arms, “I’m perfectly content with who I am now, princess. How much more perfect can I get?” he peppered kisses up your jaws and softly kissed the edge of your lips. 
“... we can meditate together, become one soul and mind, through the art of sex. It’s good for you. You know like my cock inside you? How harmonic, how wonderful, how … much more rewarding can that get? Maybe we can finally try some new positions? Like those Kamasutra positions, Suguru sent me. He said that shit works. ”
“But ‘Toru —” you whined, the once animated chirp of your voice dissipated to nothing but disappointment and sadness at your boyfriend’s refusal to comply.
“Why are you pressing this so much?” Satoru furrowed his brows, absolutely confused as to why you would willingly be abstinent for not just one day, nor even a week, but for a goddamn month and a couple of days on top of it? 
“B-because…” you lightly bit onto your lips, hesitant to spill the truth. 
— flashback to a week prior.
“Say… have you and Satoru ever tried… you know… being abstinent for a bit?” she asked while twirling her straw around the rim of her glass cup. 
“Well,” sighing while resting your cheek on the palm of your hand, your body leaning onto the coffee table, “we did try once in college,” humming with a light gleam to your voice, “but he failed within that week.”
“I see…”
“What’s up?” You kindly smiled, questioning her motive of asking, “are you and Suguru okay?”
“Yea, we’re fine! A little too good, I would say,” she laughed, a light glimmer of her eyes sparkling just where the sun radiating above you both, shining down warmth to excite you for the words she was just about to say, “just wanted to fuck with him, a bit you know?”
“How so?” intrigued with her sudden confession, biting your lips in thoughts of maybe – just maybe – you felt the same. 
“November is falling soon, wanted to do the classic no nut challenge,” she shrugged before crossing her arms with her elbows resting on the table, “ wanted to see how far he could last…” rolling her eyes with a sigh, “he’s always so… so full of leisure. always teasing me when I know his nuts are about to bust.”
Giggling in response, “Well, if this makes you feel better, I have to get Satoru off me, or else he’ll cry.” Shaking your head, “you know, for being so similar to one another, they are weirdly so different.”
“Hey… do wanna make a bet?” her eyes gleamed, and her face contorted in excitement as she anticipatingly nibbled her lips.
“A bet?” 
——
“... I made a bet,” you mumbled while playing with your toes, you couldn’t help but wince at the scoff your boyfriend gave you.
“A bet? Like money? Didn’t know you had a gambling addiction.”
“Satoru, I’m being serious.”
“I am too,” clicking his tongue against his teeth while running his hand over this hair, “So you’re telling me you made a bet… and that has to do with Suguru and his girl because…?
“Well… it was to see who would last the longest,” nervously pursing your lips as you watched his vexed expression.
“...Are you serious?” your boyfriend deadpanned.
“Mhm…” you nodded, “very serious.”
“How much?”
“Five…”
“Five dollars, youre joking —” 
“Five hundred for the winner and an extra two hundred if you can last till your birthday…”
“And why is there an extra incentive for me?”
“Because… she didn’t think you’d be able to survive even a week, nor did Suguru when she texted him. Both thought it would be an easy win.”
"that dickhead," deeply sighing with his eyes firmly closed, “did you at least bet that I’ll win?” His fingers wrapped behind your back as he tiredly looked back at you.
“Of course!” you smiled, giggling while snaking your arms around his neck, “I know my boyfriend will win.” 
“you're lucky that you're cute,” Satoru crinkled his nose with a smile, “but, do you genuinely want to do this?”
“Mhm, Imma treat my baby girl out,” reciprocating the crinkle while lightly pinching his cheeks, giving him the softest smile as he slowly loses his resolve. 
“your baby girl, you say?” Satoru raised a brow while running his fingers against the plush of your lips.
“My own and only,” giggling while lightly prancing on your toes. 
Slowly releasing a deep breath before clicking his tongue against his teeth, Satoru accepted your proposal. “Don’t get mad at me when I push you off for being needy,” your boyfriend smirked while pinching your cheeks, “and no more special good morning wake-up calls, even if you beg, I won't give it to —"
Heat immediately radiating to your face, your heart thumping increasingly at the remembrance of Satoru’s cheeky morning relief — in between your thighs, lips kissing your inner skin as he trekked his way to your cunt that looked just so pretty for him.
“I’m the one that always pushes you off, stupid…” you softly murmured, “but yes! I just want us to succeed at least once, and plus… don’t you want to beat Suguru?”
“He’s the least of my worries, princess. Because I’m going to make you regret ever making this bet,” he softly threatened, his smile masked with a hint of depravity in his voice.
“Because the longer I hold on,” giving you a wink as he pushed you towards his room, “the harder you’re getting fucked when I win, angel.”
“W-why are we going to —” your lips were pressed upon his, your voice melting into the dichotomy of urgency but also ease as you drowned in his touch, “ ‘Toru!” moaning his name, chest huffing as you clung onto with your fingers raking his hair as your bodies dropped to the bed, “we s-still have to run errands.”
“Fuck those,” Satoru groaned into your neck, caving his face into the crevice as he pulled down his sweats, the bulge of his cock nodding in his briefs. Kneeling on the edge of his bed, his fingers fastidiously pulled your shorts off, throwing them onto the floor, urgently pulling your cute panties off to the side. Exposing your hardened bud as he placed a tender kiss on your clit, now wet with your juice,
“Your silly bet doesn’t start till tomorrow, so open up, gonna make full use of what’s mine.”
— Day one.
The morning felt oddly nice, a little too nice when the mornings were usually cold and dull. The winter breeze was just right as the leaves swayed by its lead, and Satoru was sleeping soundly following the rhythm of the wind gently blowing outside, with his limbs intertwined with his lover. Without a worry, as he slept with his breath steady, and chest rising and falling in a calm motion, from outside looking in, the view would've simply been a couple soundly sleeping during the early mornings. 
But underneath the sheets as both slept peacefully was his cock rudely poking at your inner thigh, his length pressing deeper in as he shifted in his slumber, lips murmuring what he was dreaming. 
Usually, it would be routine. Satoru would wake up first, reach over to bring you close as he wrapped his arms around your body, and then he’d take some time to admire you while you peacefully slept in his arms. Ten minutes thereafter, is when the suffocating discomfort of his dick became too unbearable, and the throbbing of his cock would prod him to anticipatingly lick his lips while making his way down the sheets. With his lips pecking small kisses down your body while his hands gently massage your curves, he’ll quickly station himself in between your legs, softly pushing your cotton panties to the side with his index finger. 
Hearing you shuffle and innocently moan out in your sleep, he’ll tenderly comfort you with a slight gruff to his morning voice, “shh baby, just sleep… it’ll feel good.” With his vacant finger spreading out your folds, the sticky sounds of your cunt slowly became more viscous the more he played with your pretty clit, the bud hardening with each stroke of his finger in and out of your pulsing hole.
His goal wasn’t to wake you, but for him to taste you just enough so that you’ll wake up in bliss, totally unaware of your boyfriend’s servicing actions. And just before he’ll dive more aggressively to taste your cunt, Satoru always placed a sweet kiss at the base of your pussy before caging your thighs around his arms, softly blowing on your exposed womanhood as he felt you stir in sleep. His voice was soothing as he eagerly licked his lips with a smirk, he cooed, “no need for preworkout if I can eat this every morning.”
But today, despite the morning feeling too nice, Satoru woke up frustrated to the core. He did his usual cuddling session with you in his arms — guess that made him feel better seeing you twitch your nose and softly snore. Cute he thought, would be nice if he could eat — 
Instead of anticipation, his cock painfully ached and his mood turned sour the moment he felt the usual nodding of his dick to have some action. 
Usually, he was excited to start the day. Not because he was enthusiastic to go to work, slave his life away to his family corporation, attend those god-awful meetings, and sign the mountains of files that his secretary ordered to finish. 
No, he woke up solely with the intent of eating you out — end of story, final discussion. If sleeping was the only avenue for him to enjoy having a taste of your morning cunt, he’ll go through mountains and sign those papers if he had to — hell, he’ll even stay overtime if he was guaranteed.
But, he couldn’t. At least for a month, he wouldn’t be able to. 
Sex the day before was good — too good. With a balance of carnal urgency as he bullied your abused cunt with his aching length, meshing with some time to wind down in pillow talk or while he sovereigns every ounce of your body with his lips, only to repeat the cycle of fucking like rabbits with the sheets damp and body sore from prolonged sexual intercourse. sex was still so fucking good. 
But today? Yea...
“Fuckkk,” Satoru groaned, throwing his head back onto the pillow with his arm thrown over his eyes, his hips mindlessly moving upward in a pensive desire to fuck you. 
“ ‘Toru?” your voice softly croaked, totally unaware of the frustration your little bet caused him, “you okay?”
“Mhm,” he immediately swallowed you with his arms, his lips pressing delicate kisses on your naked shoulders but keeping a mental note to not have his dick too close to your ass — that was dangerous territory.
“Are you leaving soon? Stay a little longer, I’m cold,” your voice was slurred, while your consciousness slowly slipped into another stage of sleep.
“I can’t sweets,” Satoru grumbled, his hands mounding your innocent breasts, “not when I’m like this,” his breath tickled the edge of your lobes, just fanning against your jaw while the control of his hips was no longer in his jurisdiction but of a mind of their own as he dry fucked your ass, “fuck baby… Are you sure you wanna do this? 
“You p-promised, ‘Toru…” you responded with your back snuggled close to his bare chest, the heat of his body making you feel safe despite the raging thoughts that were blaring in your boyfriend’s mind. 
Getting out of bed was hard, but getting himself to work out despite his cock stubbornly staying tortuously erect was even harder. The moment he pulled himself out of the sheets, he knew today’s workout wouldn’t be of his fancy as he drank his preworkout making his way down to his basement gym. 
And yes, sure as hell, today’s morning workout was a bust. 
— Day two. 
“They say starting is always the hardest, ‘Toru,” your voice, innocent yet ignorant of the turmoil he was going through, was soothing as you brushed your fingers through his hair, his face plastered on your breasts as he contemplated the existence of his life, “why don’t you join me for some pilates? A lot of couples come together!” 
No, it’s not. And whoever came up with such a quote was a complete fuck, because Satoru could rebuttal it to his grave.
First, starting wasn't always the hardest. Getting over your nerves, or mustering up the courage to start wasn't difficult. Maybe it’ll apply to life circumstances like applying for that dream job or starting out a new hobby. But for Satoru, once you’re hooked, absolutely addicted to something, that’s when it’s the hardest. 
Because like a dog conditioned to expect food after a stimulus, the same applies to sex. If he sees you blatantly walking around in those shorts that he just loved to watch you prance around the house in, he'll easily break. Where your cheeks just lightly land outside the rim of the fabric – it was adorable when you reached up the cupboard, exposing a hint of your belly and your ass jiggling when you jumped on your tippy toes. Like a starved animal, his cock would answer with its length pooled with blood, his stomach knotting in flames while his azul eyes dilated at the sight of you.
It was so easy — you made it so easy. Pushing you onto the countertop, getting you when least expected as he smashed his lips with yours while muffling your little yelp — your call of surprise but his invitation for more — was so, so easy. It was exciting, thrilling, utterly fulfilling his primal desires to just swallow you entirely as you clung onto him while crying out his name, your nails scratching against his back while his cock pistoled itself into you, nestling deep inside as he pumped out his seeds, shooting straight to your womb. 
It was glorious, so divine when he felt his cum leak outside you. The warm clumps of his ejaculation thudded against the kitchen floor while he huffed out deep breaths with his head resting on your shoulder. It sent shivers down his back when you embraced him in his arms. And when he was lucky, you’ll look at him with desperate eyes, pulling more out from him as you whisper in his ears, a voice that almost strips all air from his burning lungs as you palm his length and swirl your thumb over his leaking head,
“I think you’ve got a little more in you, right ‘Toru?” 
But instead, currently, with his head leaning against the shower wall, Satoru stood under the cold shower trying to cool off his cock. It’s almost laughable how his dick nods up and down as if it mocked his misery.
“You think it’s funny bastard,” Satoru groaned, voice spiteful that even his own body seemed to have betrayed him. 
— Day three.
Kissing shouldn’t hurt. Right?
He was at least allowed to do that, right?
Maybe not when the kids were around. But an innocent kiss to show just how much he loved you, should be good, right?
Or so, that’s what Satoru’s sex-deprived head concluded when he saw you cleaning the dishes, softly humming an unrecognizable tune.
“I was going to do this, baby…” he lowly groaned into your skin while his hands snaked up your shirt, fingers immediately going to unclasp your bra while his lips trailed up your neck, his hand placed around it for eventual better access to your lips. 
Oh how he wished to press you down onto the counter, push your cute little skirt up your waists while he measured the length of his cock to see how far he could fit himself inside you before ramming himself in — how admirable would it be to hear the synchronized moans coming out from you both simultaneously.  
But he couldn’t. Even if he didn’t agree to this stupid bet, he wouldn’t — no, you wouldn’t allow it, not even dare let him touch you when the kids were around.
Huh? But to his surprise, he could feel you reciprocating back by pushing your ass onto his cock. Soaking in every touch and affection he gave you; just maybe he wasn’t the only one craving, barely surviving through this absurd bet, despite only being the third day.
It was three days too long.
Treating him out? Fuck, that was his job, not yours — well, occasionally he did allow you to buy him some ice cream, but even in that, too, he would rather buy it for you. 
“You know we don’t have to continue —” he tempted, softly whispering into your ear, his bulge pressing against the valley of your ass — erection hard enough for you to feel over your clothes.
“But the bet,” you whimpered when his slender finger pinched your nipples, “it’s o-only been a full two days though,” your voice radiated barely of a whisper.
“Shhh, let's fuck the bet,” Satoru’s hand inched its way down your tummy, gliding to satisfy the aroused coil blooming in between your legs, “this is all so silly, princess. We can be fucking like normal? Enjoying each other, come on, let me make you feel good, yea?” your boyfriend’s voice was laced with an amorous note.
“M-maybe we could just call it qu —” 
“What are you doing?” Megumi blankly asked, holding his finished plate of food while standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at you both with unimpressed eyes, “are you trying to eat her or suffocate her?"
“Ooo Gojo-kun’s in loveeeeee,” Tsumiki chirped, “that’s what Papa does when he’s with his girlfriend!”
“Fuck, we’re never having kids.”
— Day 12.
“So, you still on that bet?” swirling the fizzling drink, Satoru asked before taking a sip of his sugary mocktail — a drink he confidently orders despite the odd stares he gets from the bartender. 
“The bet about not fucking?” Suguru sounded nonchalant about it. It was exactly twelve days since starting and why the hell does he look so smug about it? Fucking bastard… always so full of leisure when he was crawling, begging for scraps to simply survive.
“Yea, I guess,” the raven hair smirked, his tone taunting as he questioned Satoru, “surprised you’re even taking it this far, thought you would fail after the first hour with your horny ass.”
“What’s up with you and your girl both thinking that fucking is all I think about,” Satoru rolled his eyes, pursing his lips offended.
Suguru simply just stared back, the look of his eyes alone sending Satoru a million words as to why he knows fucking is all he thinks about. 
“Rude, it’s not always…”
Shrugging, Suguru brushed it off, “Sure, whatever you say.” 
“Okay… maybe like 90 percent of the time, no — 80 percent.”
“what an addict, I feel sorry for your girl, gotta tell her to run away when she can,” Suguru teased, pulling out his phone to text you, “like, how do you even concentrate at work?”
“It’s called multi-tasking, a trait only the elite have. clearly, its something you wouldn't know about."
“You know what Satoru?”
“What?”
“it still shocks me how so many entrust their careers with you, slaving their lives away to corporate for an elitely dumbass of a boss,” looking at his bestfriend with the kindest smile while tapping his shoulder, “don’t you think?”
There was no fucking way, he was going to lose to this prick of a best friend. 
— Day 14.
Satoru wondered how he ever survived without you. Call it sentimental, call it deprivation, but one thing for sure was that he wanted you — and it very badly. 
Shaking his leg, annoyingly biting onto the edge of his pen, it frustrated him that there was nothing else that could fathom to take space in his brain besides you. He exercised a hell lot more than his usual regimen and cut off on caffeine so that he could try and knock out when he got off from work.
He even tried doing those meditative breathing techniques that he searched for on the web. Said it was to calm your mind and soul. But god fucking dammit, being in silence made him even more hyperaware of his circumstance.
He can tell you are struggling, as well. He’s felt your touch linger on his body longer, trailing down to areas that you shouldn’t be trying to touch as your voice entranced him out of his free will. 
As much as he wanted to throw in the white flag, and dump this shitty little bet over, he was two weeks in. Despite the last two weeks being an absolute shit show, it gave him an incentive to keep going. Why? Because one, you wanted it; second, because he could prove Suguru wrong that sex is, in fact, not the only thing he thinks about.
Gojo-san, hopefully everyth…
But my god, was waking up in the morning a struggle. It’s almost as if he’s forgotten the taste of your cum coating his lips, droplets dripping down his chin on days when he ate you out a little too hard. The pure ecstasy of being in your arms while your pussy fucked him dry.
The painful yet glorious tug of his hair when you screamed out, “‘Toru right there! D-don’t stop! Ngh fuck harder! Go harder!”
Reciprocating your needs, he’ll burrow his face into the crook of your neck, the weight of his body pressing your thighs down to your chest as he caved his member fully into you, the weight of his balls slamming against your puffy folds while your nails painted red along his back, “f-fucking shit… c-can I, princess? can I cum inside?”
Gojo-san? 
Despite the years, Satoru always asked for permission. He would rather live dickless than know he spilled his seeds without consent. 
Your hot breath stingy his ears covered in sweat, you mewled out, “Yes! Yes! ‘Toru hurry —” 
Gojo-san… are you okay? 
“What?” quickly waking from his daydream, his pen still in his mouth as a table of his subordinates worriedly looked at him with eyes all rounded from shock. 
The infamous Gojo Satoru, the heir to Japan’s richest conglomerate, who has a keen eye for detail and business strategies looked like a deer in headlights in front of his staff. 
“They’re waiting for your executive decision, sir,” Ijichi whispered, covering his mouth with a file, “you seem awfully pale, sir. Is everything alright?”
“I’m sorry,” Gojo cleared his throat, closing the folder as he prepared himself to make his way out, “ l-let me just read through the presentation once more, and I’ll relay my decision later. Good work everyone.” 
Satoru was never one to get annoyed easily. Frustrated? Yes. Even the clicking of his dress shoes tapping against the graphite floor, a sound that he’d never noticed during his career at this office, irked the hell out of him. Hell, even the obnoxious chime of the elevator ticked him off. 
“S-should I clear out your schedule, Gojo-san?” Ijichi broke the ice while he followed behind his boss.
“No need,” Satoru’s answer was curt.
“B-but sir, you don’t seem to look —”
Raising his voice, “Don’t make me repeat myself, Ijichi —” only to catch himself with a deep sigh as he brushed his styled hair back, large palms gripping the edge of his table as he leaned forward, “sorry… didn’t mean to sound harsh, guess i’m just a little tired, that’s all.”
“My apologies sir, I’ll organize your schedule accordingly.” Ijichi stated before taking a bow and making his leave. 
“That’ll be nice, thanks.”
Sitting down on his chair, throwing his head back while closing his eyes, Satoru frustratingly moaned out with his thighs spread out, “I must be going crazy, I’m not some horndog teenager…”
But inside his pants was a bulge, a boner that hadn’t gone down ever since the start of his meeting.  
— Day 17
“Fuck,” a lowly growl resonated throughout the room — desperate and sinful — the depth of his chest expanding with each staggered breath that he took. Clenching onto his bed sheets and shoving the wad of saliva down his throat, it burned from the tension of lubricating his dry throat. 
Licking his lips, and furrowing his brows, Satoru pulled down his sweats, freeing his restrained manhood. When the tip of his head smacked against his lower abdomen, the pain of the cold air encapsulated his poor cock that lay barren on its own, Satoru’s hiss littered his skin with goosebumps when his groans soon turned into desperate whimpers while he vulnerably lay in bed with an erection. 
Before all this, it was easy for him to release. Simply envisioning you while he fucked you senseless, or looked through his private album of photos and videos he’s taken of you. It wasn’t a common occurrence for him to fuck his fist, but hey, when push comes to shove, Satoru wasn’t one to deny masturbating — especially, if he could cum to you in mind. 
Normally, he’ll rest his back against the backboard, topless and with gray sweats — that you'll argue was your favorite because it accentuates his cock and makes him look sexy. If his girl likes it, why not flaunt what he has?
Getting himself in the mood didn’t require much. When he felt his cock pooling with blood, constrained in the restraints of his brief, Satoru would pull down his sweat with a grunt while his member sprung forth. 
Sweetly palming his length, and applying just the right pressure, he’ll start by going through past photos and eventually ending up with videos. Zooming into your sweet lips, hearing your whimpers while he fucked you from behind, watching you play with his fingers on a date, to seeing your breasts giggle with every force of his cock slamming inside you — he loved it all.
Stroking his cock, while bucking his hips forward, desperately moaning while he envisioned just how adorable you would look trying to palm his member. A grip so easy for him to hold with one hand, while you struggled even with two. How soft your tongue would feel around the edge of his leaking head, while your hands carefully fondled his balls, lightly pulling on the sac as you fisted his length, looking up at him through the whisps of your lashes. 
It drove him senseless when you would call his name with a little purr, pulling him closer to you as you spread out your legs to invite him in. It drove him mad when he’ll feverishly press his lips on yours, stifling your cries as he pounded into you. The only sounds resonating from the room were erotic slaps of sweaty skin and your muffled cries.
It didn’t take long for him to cum. give and take fifteen to twenty, but it was nonetheless a euphoric expression because every session made him pulse and huff, desperately desiring more. 
If you had asked to abstain from sex, maybe that would've been easier to manage. At least he could relieve himself solo. 
But, completely stripping himself of the option to simply cum was cruelty on its own.
And no different from a prepubescent boy, Satoru lay in his bed with his cock raging with his tip a fiery red. 
But unlike a teenager, that would get boners out of simply nothing, Satoru couldn’t relieve himself of it.
— Day 19.
Surprisingly, Satoru woke up feeling refreshed. He swore he slept agitated and exhausted especially since this past week you’ve told him, “no more sleeping in one bed together, Satoru.”
But this morning, he felt rejuvenated and light. Maybe not nutting did actually work —
… Did he? No, fucking way. 
Quickly shredding off the sheets, his eyes barely adjusting to the brightness of the room, Satoru checked his groin and examined his hands for any signs that he might've masturbated in his sleep. 
Nothing — spotless. Miraculously, he didn’t even wake up with morning wood. 
With another thought springing to his head, Satoru fastidiously reached for his phone — face id unable to recognize his morning face with the white bird’s nest of hair he had on his head.
Google search history: 
Can my dick break from not cumming?
What are the symptoms of a broken dick?
Reading that there was no correlation between not nutting and its health benefits, and receiving the assurance that one’s dick cannot simply “break” from not cumming, Satoru felt reassured that he, in fact, did not have a broken dick and that maybe he was finally getting the hang of it. 
Surely, there’s always a light at the end of every tunnel.
And maybe he’s finally found his. 
— Day 19 - 11:34 pm
Nope.
Wrong. So so wrong. Most utterly wrong.
Satoru was in fact very wrong of the presumption he had in the morning. Because he was not getting the hang of it. Especially not when his cock was bulging in his sweats, while he was frustratingly lying wide awake during the crack of dawn.
If he could just touch his dick, stroke its length with the perfect pressure, he knew he’ll fold. 
Only if he could. 
It was arguable that he could. 
But the look of disappointment you’ll give him, with the cute pout to your lips when he tells you he’s failed, he would rather die than come to you as a lousy prick that just wanted his dick sucked. 
So, sighing while trudging off his bed, guess it was time for another cold shower — fourth one of the week.
— Day 24.
“Sir, it seems to me that’s you’ve lost some weight.” 
“I’ve been hitting the gym more lately,” Satoru chuckled, the veins of his forearms angrily bulging, clearly visible on his pale skin. 
“There’s been talks…” Ijichi stumbled on his words, unsure how to bring it about to Satoru.
“Talks about?” Satoru questioned, barely taking the time to look at his secretary as he was focused on signing his documents.
“That maybe you’ve broken up with…" Ijichi couldn't even dare say your name in the same sentence, " or —” 
“Yea?” Satoru put his file down, a smirk growing on his face as he twirled his pen around his slender fingers — guess those flirty good mornings and looks from his staff made sense.
“I’m no expert…” clearing his throat, hoping he wouldn’t offend his boss, “but I’m here to listen if you have any trouble with your relationship.”
“I’m glad I’ve got such a trusted advisor,” the man pushed back on his seat, resting his arms on the sides of his chair, “but don’t mind me, just haven’t been able to let off some steam, that’s all.” 
“Okay…”
“And breaking up? Ijichi you’ve been there when she broke up with me.” The man hummed, reminiscent of the days when he was heartbroken and lifeless, “We’re fine… just trying out something new, I guess.”
— Day 29.
It’s been a little over two weeks of sleeping separately. Dates have been cut to sole dinners, and going over to each other’s places was prohibited — at least til the bet, as per his lovely girlfriend. 
And weekends were the hardest for Satoru. 
Typically before this all occurred, weekends were his golden days. He was able to do whatever he wanted when he wanted it with you. Whether it be going on a shopping spree, or taking you out of the country for a short getaway, you were always involved — his common denominator. 
Surely, he was able to still enjoy those with you, but it was rather difficult for him to keep his hands off you. 
He still doesn’t quite understand why committed to this stupid bet in the first place. It wasn’t something he placed for himself, but guess… guess he just wanted to prove to not only you but also himself that sex, carnal lust, wasn’t the only thing that kept him in this relationship. That even though he’s been waking up with blue balls, and his mind driving him insane, you were worth more than that — not that you would ever get disappointed with him for failing, in the first place, but still. 
If he’s made it till now, he can survive till the end. 
But times like these... damn it was fucking hard.
“You want to come in?” you softly asked, playing with his fingers that were rested on your thighs throughout the drive home. 
“You tempting me?” Satoru glanced over at you, cheekily smiling as he pulled towards you to place a tender kiss on your lips.
His lips felt mildly chapped, unusual when normally they were soft and slightly glossy. The warmth of his mouth and the gentle strokes of his thumb rubbing against your jaw eased you into the kiss as he pulled you over to the driver’s side to saddle his lap.
But that was the extent to where his hands would be: cupping your face.
With his car parked on the streets of your apartment complex, and his windows tinted, it wasn’t an unusual rendezvous for him to shamelessly fuck you in it. And that’s what you presumed this make-out session would slowly turn into. 
Because fuck it. You’ve missed him. 
Missed the way he touched you.
Missed the way he held you in his arms.
Missed the way he just knew the parts of your body that made you squirm, right before pinning you in place with his strength. 
Missed the teases and affirmations he gave when he prepped you.
And my fucking god did you miss the way he rammed his cock into you, pistoling his cock inside as he held you down with his weight. Having him cum inside you? That was a bonus. 
“Satoru… let’s go inside,” you moaned out in the split second your lips disconnected, only for him to crash his mouth onto yours once more with a deep groan. 
Before he wouldn’t hesitate to strip you off your clothes, many times even ripping out the buttons when he was in the rush. He’ll smirk while not meaning his apologizing, “sorry, but i’ll buy you it, focus on me right now.”
It felt unusual to only be making out. You’ve craved him, utterly wanted to devour him. Wanted something more than just his tongue inside your mouth and stagnant touches of his fingers on your face. it felt suffocating to be unable to touch his bare body that was rudely still covered with his clothes. 
So without much thought, the burning knot burrowing inside, flaring in the pits of your stomach, had a mind of its own. your hands slowly made their way down his torso, gliding past his stomach. you've noticed he was much more muscularly defined than the last time you touched him. 
“H-have you’ve been working out mor — ahhh,” his hands pushed your face slightly to the side so that his tongue could easily access your neck. The padding of his tongue sliding along the valley of your neckline, and his hot breath sticking to your skin.
“Mhm, can you tell?” he whispered in between kisses, mindlessly running his lips to wherever they landed.
“Yeah, I can feel it through your shirt,” your fingers wrap around his belt, slowly unbuckling the leather, “and your chest feels more squishy,” your slight giggle was no more than a moaning mess when he immediately bucked his hips to cause friction against your throbbing cunt. 
“Gotta look hot for my baby,” Satoru breathed, “especially when it’s been so long since we’ve fuck… shit, you don’t know how much I want you right now.”
You finally got your hands to free his belt, unbuttoning his pants while unzipping his fly down, “how bad?” you taunted, your lips sneaky up to his soft spot — just under his ear. 
Your needy breaths and the sensual overload always set him off. And you were determined to let him succumb to it.
“So so fucking bad,” gulping down his spit, the viscous wad burning his dry throat, “it’s all I think about, oh fuck —” throwing his head back onto the headrest, allowing you to suck at his skin as his hands now firmly held onto your waist.
And just when you were about to feel his pulsating cock, salivating at how warm and sensitive it would be when you could finally get your hands on his member. To swirl your tongue down just under his frenulum while you lathered his length with your spit. Maybe they’ll be time to suck at his ball while you pumped his meaty cock, and run your tongue along the lines of his pretty veins.  
“W-wait baby,” his hands placed on your wrists. With his chest heaving, and hair frazzled, he looked at you with worry.
“Yes?” irritated that he would stop you — never had he stopped you.
“I don’t want you to make any decision that’ll you’ll regret tomorrow,” he confessed, softly looking into your eyes, while a small smile formed at his pretty lips, “I-i can take care of this at home,” slightly looking down at your hands just about to touch his groin, “and we have so much time to do it later,” he reassured while pulling your hands out of his pants, bringing them to your lips to kiss.
“B-but Satoru, I want —”
“I know princess, I know,” his voice mildly trembled, “you don’t know how bad I want you, it’s honestly torturous,” Satoru let out a forced chuckle. 
“Let’s just break the bet then,” you pouted, sinking into his embrace with your arms wrapped around his neck, pressing yourself deeper into his body.
“Hey,” he gently tapped your bum, teasingly playing with your mounds when he heard you whine, “didn't I say…”
“What?” you annoyingly spat out.
“that when I win this bet,” his hands pulled you away, leaving you at eye level with him as he rubbed his thumb against the heat of your cheeks, “fucking is all we’ll do,” he reminded with a slight chuckle. It was undeniable that your boyfriend did not mean what he said as a simple joke. The tone of his voice could sound comical, but the underlying incentive of his statement was nothing but that. 
It was admirable to see your boyfriend set his boundaries, doing his absolute best to honor the bet despite his pupils being dilated and cheeks rosy. The gruff in his voice when he called out your name and while he took his time to dress you up, were telltale signs that he too was at his wits. His wonton look of desperation was plastered over his face, even the slight tremor of his hands as he cupped your cheeks, one last time, to place a kiss on your forehead before leading you up to your apartment door, was nothing short of love. 
— Day 35.
Satoru woke up, took a shower, and had a cup of his pre-workout before heading down to his gym. He felt light on his feet, absolutely flying through his sets. the pebbles of sweat on his forehead felt worthwhile, and the strain of his muscles made him feel alive. 
He's been feeling good. his body was shaped just right — not too big but finely cut and carved to perfection. He's been putting more effort into his grind, and been more involved and fastidious at work with precision and strategy. while still being your dutiful boyfriend who sent thirst photos, of himself post workout, with a good morning text. 
He goes to work sharply dressed, with his shoes freshly oiled. The slight spark of his watch, peeping out of his cuffs, was the definition of the wealth he assessed. With his thin waists but defined chest, it wasn’t hard for people to know just what he had packed under his clothes. 
Satoru signed off on all his charts, attending every repetitive meeting, and joined in on important business deals with partnering companies. He made Ijichi’s life easier by working more thoroughly and leaving promptly.
The last couple of days of this newfound routine will soon come to an end. And the old will come again. Hopefully, he’ll be the victor between Suguru and him. Finally, a time when he could rub it in his best friend’s ego, that he was, in fact, the better of the duo. 
Sitting alone in his office, signing off his last document before calling it a day, Satoru felt a sense of pride and satisfaction. In only two days, he’ll be able to touch you again, make love, and comfortably be himself with limbs wrapped together under the sheets.
Soon, he’ll be able to enjoy the goodness of love — sex, being the much-added benefit. 
As he closed his final folder, leaning back on his chair, reminiscing about the past couple of weeks, it was no lie, the struggle of trying to keep his dick in his pants was no easy feat. Every morning was a mental battlefield of its own. But he’s grown to succumb to his desires and utilize that frustration in other aspects of his life — career, working out, meditating, daydreaming of his future with you and what he hopes to accomplish.
Sure, not being able to nut was tortuous – painful as his cock throbbed in his briefs every morning and with every thought of you. Not being able to even properly kiss you without being tempted to just have you face down on his whatever surface was near and fuck you good was even worse. Nothing has changed in how his dick reacted on its own, his thoughts still lingered in memories of how you would react when he would touch you at your sweet spots, how your body trembled when he inserted himself in, the warmth of your tight walls enveloping his cock. How good you tasted when you came in his mouth, body tense as he massaged your limbs. 
But he’s been good, though he wanted to throw this useless bet out the gutter and selfishly act on his own will, you were proud of him — told him every day when he dropped you off. And that to him was enough. 
Closing out his office, and walking to his car. Talking the elevator down while the clacks of his shoes echoed in the empty parking stall, where only his and a couple of other cars were present, Satoru couldn’t wait to get home.
To take a warm bath, and decompress while joining you on a Facetime call. These days, those sweet moments are what he looked forward to.
He felt the light vibration of his phone and immediately smiled when he saw the sender.
From: pumpkin <3
Babe have you by chance seen my favorite panties?  I think I’ve lost them or left them at your place ):
To: pumpkin <3
I wish I had them But we haven’t fucked at my place in a while …  … you sneaking behind my back? ���
From: pumpkin <3
Awww I see! Those were my favorites  You’re ridiculous -_- It’s probably under your carseat or something.
To: pumpkin <3
I’ll get you the same pair (: Let me know when you get home, i’ll be home soon
From: pumpkin <3
Okie dokie sexy
Chuckling as he rolled his eyes, he mindlessly placed his phone on the dashboard and started his car. The rumble of his engine loudly echoed in the dark basement, and the lights of his dash could almost blind a person. He shifted his car to drive, and while he stepped on the gas pedal, his phone slid off the dash and fell onto the carpeted floor. 
Grunting as he reached over to grab his phone, he felt a soft fabric brush against the tip of his finger. That was odd. Satoru liked to keep his car clean. So he grabbed the dainty item and hung it on his finger as he registered what it was. 
Truly, god liked to fuck with him. Because on his finger was your missing laced panty. A memory of your last car sex with him before you slammed him with the “let’s not fuck, and you can’t cum till blah blah blah.”
“Fuck…” Satoru hissed, letting out a gluttonous rasp as he spread out his thighs in his seat.
And beneath his slacks was his bulge painfully starting to outline, the size of his cock so obvious despite the dim lighting of his car.
Clenching onto your underwear, he knew he shouldn’t but couldn’t help but unzip his pants and firmly hold his hardened cock, as he unfolded the memory of when he fucked you in his car.
Ten minutes later.
To: pumpkin <3
Ah babe, I think I’m going to get home later than expected. Heavy traffic 
traffic was fine. Satoru just has yet to leave the parking lot.
— A couple hours before D-day.
Dinner reservations were set for 7:30 pm, which meant he needed to be at your place by the latest 6:45. There were countless times when you’ve both missed the reserved time because either one, you fucked one too many rounds at home before heading out, or two, you fucked in the car en route to the restaurant. 
Satoru hoped he would stay sane tonight. All he had to do was endure a couple more hours and when the clock hit midnight, it was game over. 
But when you open your apartment door, it wasn’t a surprise his body moved before his mind could register.
Because when you open the door, giggling while innocently tilting your head to the side as you put on your earrings, the ring on your promised finger sparkling from the backlight, something snapped within him. And despite your lips moving, he couldn’t hear a word you said but the annoying, monotonous ring in his ears as his eyes sharply fixated on you while you made your way to wrap your arms around him.
No, don’t do it. Don’t come.
And in that moment, everything within him exploded.
Before you both even know it, he’s rushing inside your apartment, prying off his shoes while he pushes you onto the wall with his lips desperately smashed on yours. With your wrists caged in one of his larger palms as the other quickly stripped you of your clothes, despite knowing you were on a time crunch, you didn’t necessarily feel compelled to be on time — better, maybe not even make it at all.
“Satoru —” you yelped, only for your voice to morph into wonton moans as his lips suffocated your lungs from the air.
The sound of teeth clashing, hands hunting for more bodily warmth combined with the lewd whines that dissipated from each lips heated your core — just enough to push you onto the edge with your juices pooling in your panties.
His hands expertly slide down your stomach and to the crevice in between your legs. His fingers shove the fabric to the side, exposing your wet cunt that’s just so ready to be played with and touched.
‘Tor —” you barely managed to call his name, his mouth overwhelming with strength as he forced his tongue into yours. With teeth clashing and his hands desperately stripping himself of both your clothes and his, he growled while tugging your lip with his teeth, “I can’t fucking do this anymore.”
“O-our reservation!” you cried out, desperately holding onto him with a leg hooked around his waist, relying on his strength to stand on one foot. With his shirt hanging off his torso, hair now messy and frazzled while he littered your skin with kisses that left you begging for more. 
“Fuck that,” he growled, his breath sounding rough as he threw his freshly pressed shirt on the floor — one probably worth more than your rent itself. 
“It’s nothing new that we’re always late, princess,” he taunted, with his palm placed at the base of your jaw, cupping your cheeks with his left hand while his right unzipped your dress, smirking when it landed on the floor with a thud.
“I told you, angel,” cocking his head to the side as he swiped his tongue upward on your lips, his eyes piercing straight into yours, “ the longer I kept this up the harder you were getting fucked.”
“It’s not over till tomo — ahhh, ” you moaned when his fingers finally played with your folds, and eventually your clit.
“Sorry, I tried, I really did, baby,” groaning as his lips dragged against your neck, his teeth hungrily nipping at your skin while he rubbed circles against your hardened bud. The erotic sound of your slick swirling against his fingers was a combination of embarrassment but also ease – you shouldn’t so readily give in, but oh you wanted to get fucked so badly.
With his vacant hand quickly unhooking your bra and groping your breasts, Satoru kissed his ways down to harshly suck at your nipples, “ but goddamn, i think you’ll actually kill me with this.”
“From not having sex?” you pulled at his hair, both legs automatically wrapping around his waists as he sloppily kissed your mounds, the slime of his saliva coating your areolas to replicate nature’s greatest gem.
“Yea, because my nut’s seriously about to explode,” unbuckling his pants while shimming them down to his ankles, pulling one of your hands down to stroke his heated member, while he pushed your panties to the side, swirling his finger around your clit.
“Gotta take good care of my future children, you know? This is very dangerous, so so dangerous.”
“You’re being r-ridiculous oh,” you moaned out when he pinched your clit, his darkened eyes watching your every expression as he opened his mouth in unison with wonton looks. 
“Shhh pumpkin, aren’t you so cute, ” nibbling on your ears as his sensual breathing made your mind fuzzy and legs wobbly, increasingly more from the soaking sounds of your cunt being played with was ludicrous and naughty, “it’s always over when I say it’s over.”
Humming as he brought his wet fingers up to examine, “god, you’re soaked,” chuckling as he murmurs, “isn’t that fuckin’ cute.” the glimmer of his middle and ring finger enticing him more. “See, you want it too, no? Isn’t my silly girl just ready to be fucked.”
“yes, I want it. want it so, so bad—need it,” you mewled, letting out a soft whimper when he suddenly kissed you, grunting into your mouth.
“but let me release one real quick, ” groaning in between the kiss, "it’s a bit painful," as he palmed at his cock, “where do you want it, sweets?”
“Me…” with cheeks heated, you admitted.
“I asked where,” his words more strained and impatient as the pacing of his palms around his member was getting increasingly faster with more vigor.
And instead of answering, you pointed at the valley of your breasts, pooling your mounds together to catch every drop of his seeds on your skin. 
“Fucking god, I love you,” Satoru cock twitches in his hand, “get on your knees for me, princess,” he ordered before slapping his hardened length on your cheek, “ what my girl wants, is what she gets,” hissing while stroking his shaft, looking down at your sweet position — just ready to take his load. It’s not a surprise that Satoru cums fast, and he comes hard.
When he catches you eyes anticipating for his seeds, to cover you with his release, the knot that’s been burning inside him finally starts to snap. The pleasurable, deep coil of his cum shooting through his slit meshed with your desperate desire to have yourself plastered with every essence of him was enough to drive him off the edge.
“Fuck ‘mma cum, gonna cum so hard baby,” Satoru made a sound between a choked whine and sharp gasp, “gonna cum baby… i —i shit shit…” 
And he does, straight on your chest, splattering bits to the floor and some to your chin, barely making its way into your mouth — a whole fucking mess. 
Panting while he pulled out every ounce of his seeds, thickly splurting out of his sensitive tip, Satoru murmured under his hitched breath, “sorry baby, i—i don’t know what just happened there, fuck.”
“you made a mess,” you chuckle, smiling with a crinkle on your nose.
“Shit… sorry, let me just,” Satoru grabbed his shirt to help clean you off, “but damn such a waste,” you pouted. Annoyed that he didn't get to cum inside you, but also grieving for the loss of his precious seeds going into the trash. 
“It’s your fault,” he murmured, concentrating on cleaning every ounce of his cum off you, “if it wasn’t for that stupid bet, we could’ve done this every day, as much as you wanted,” mimicking your voice with a shake to his head, “but nooo, you had to just bet on my demise.”
“then let me feel you,” you murmur, “let me have you,” cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, his soft lips that you’ve missed so much, “fuck me, ‘Toru, I want you just as bad — so so badly.”
“Fuck you feel so good,” he groaned when he felt the tightness of your hole firmly wrapping a ring around his member. Rhythmically pulsing his hips, slowly gulping down his spit while he closed his eyes, trying his hardest to concentrate so he didn’t pull another quickie and cum prematurely. 
It was a couple hours after he came on your breasts, and a few sessions of sex thereafter that. After multiple positions and fucking in different spaces of your apartment, finally, you’ve made it to the bedroom. 
Feeling your soft walls pulsing and warming his length, just so tightly embracing his cock, inviting him further inside as he settled into you — his home, a place of refuge as he’s held so carefully not only in your arms but also by your cunt. 
He’s eaten you out. Fuck, you tasted so good. His starved appetite satiated with every sucking of your folds, and slobbering of his tongue against your pussy.
He’s watched you squirm and sprinkle the couch, squirting warm liquid while he fingered your cunt. 
He’s seen just how far he can enter when he measured the length of his cock magically disappearing inside you, making you relish in his reign as you shuddered with every impact. 
And he’s felt the warm gush of your cum coating his cock, making a white ring around his length every time he pulled himself out, only to slam it back in. Bullying your wet folds while he painfully swirled his fingers around your clit, satisfied that your cum meshed in with his prior ejaculations were stuffed deeply — fully — inside you.
Your hips buck in tandem with his, matching his rhythm but barely following his pace as he slams into you. His heavy balls slap against your swollen cunt with every thrust of his hips, mildly splattering remnants of his cum off your pussy. And as he buries his cock into you, going as deep as he can, with every thrust you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the depths of your caverns. your abused cunt continuously sucking him in and hugging around him, tempting him for more, as he groans into your neck, his lips now swollen and red. 
You weren’t entirely sure if he noticed, but you sure did. The throbbing of his cock tightly wrapped by your velvet walls, with every move of his body, made your insides churn into a symphony of pleasure, making you desire more for his cock to bully your cunt — especially when his head brushed against your sweet spot.
The friction of your body meshing with his feels sickening. The thick air of the room makes him feel lightheaded as if he’s being baited in between the realms of reality and another infinite dimension, teasing between the boundaries of possibly falling into an unknown abyss or comfortably landing straight home into your arms. 
It’s always been like that for him. Through all the years he’s been with you, he’s been the one that loved more, loved harder, loved desperately. He doesn’t hold it against you nor does he find fault in what type of lover he was. He just — just, doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm, his soul flourishing in your sovereignty. 
Heart lasciviously yearning for more.
“Right there ‘Toru,” you sob, “right there, give me more more” — of course it’s right there. He’s studied you front and back, but it wasn’t just right there. Because as his thumb finds your clit again, pressing desperate little circles to get you over the edge, he knows it’s actually right there when you squeeze on his cock, your eyes falling to the back of your head while your breaths start to stagger.
That’s — that’s when you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “S-satoru,” you gasp, “fuck, k-keep going."
But that — that was a shocker. 
Normally he’ll ride out his orgasm after he’s seen you finish off. But, strange… when he sees the needy glint in your eyes, the tremble of your lips as you used every ounce of your strength to pull him in while you cupped his face, your legs mercilessly bouncing with every thrust of his hips while your thighs were firmly pressed into your chests. 
Murmuring under your breath while you encouraged him to keep going, the invitation has him quickly falling into his own — hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you, shooting in waves with every twitch of his cock, with every groan pulled from his throat that soon formed into sweet whimpers that he harmonies into your neck, while fucking his load into you and as you held him in your arms, purposefully clenching to edge him off. 
But still, it’s almost embarrassing how fast he cums. Even more embarrassing is how he’s currently withering in your arms, trembling from the aftermath of pumping his hot seeds into you, desperately holding onto you with his face planted into the crook of your neck. 
The way his cum spills out of you and coats his cock, it’s perfect and feels just right. Despite your eyes about to fall shut, you can’t help but think how perfectly he fits intertwined with your body, his slowly softening cock nestled just perfectly inside you as he slumps on top of you, panting from the prior tumultuous rounds of fucking like rabbits as he cages you in his arms.
It’s warm — not only inside you, feeling the clumps spilling out, but love. 
Loving him was warm. Loving him was right. 
Groaning on top of your body, “Don’t ever ask me to do this again.” You can feel his cock slowly start to take its shape again inside you, it was quick but the viscous lumps of his fluid quickly slipped out to make more space for his cock to fill you again.
More — he wanted more. 
“B-but I could’ve treated you out —” your voice was almost gone. You’ll probably get a noise complaint from your neighbors the next morning. 
“babe, the best way you can treat out your baby girl,” Satoru rasped as he fully slipped himself inside you again, eyes rolling to the back of his head for a short moment before carnally staring into your eyes, “is letting him fuck you whenever he wants —”
“Wait wait!” you covered his lips with your hands, cheekily looking up as you then cupped his face, amused as you watched the discontent growl plastered on his expression morph into a pout.
Grumbling, Satoru huffed, “That’s all I've been doing this past month —” 
“I said wait!" stifling his whine, pulling him closer to your bosom to place a kiss on his forehead, delighted to hear the small ring of your phone jingle in tune.
“happy birthday loser,” you cooed.
“You’re the worst for making me go through this,” he chuckled while caging you in, his arms surrounding your head as he brushed his finger against your cheek, his thumb lingering against your swollen lips that were softly smudged with lipstick, “but thank you, 'm getting older, but i’ll fuck you even harder,” he proposed with a wink.
“Wow…” unbelievable that he still had energy, “even with a month of no sex, you’ll still so horny.”
“Yea, because we gotta make babies now,” Satoru chirped, his lips making its way to your swollen nipples, sucking on the tips.
“Thought you didn’t want kids?” 
“Eh, I figured… having a little gremlin like Megumi or Tsumiki-chan wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Just admit it,” running your hands through his sweaty hair, “you like them a lot more than you’ll admit.”
Suddenly propping his head up like a groundhog, with spit trailing down his chin, he corrected, “False, I like them only to an extent because I get tabs on their dad.”
“Tabs about who he’s dating? Why are you going to sell that to the tabloids?” 
“Exactly, Tsumiki-chan always spill the tea, and plus that fart needs some action.” 
“Even though you’re my boyfriend, you really are something.”
“Eh, i’ve gotten better compliments,” he shrugged, his attention going straight back to your nipples.
“ ‘Toru… d-do you think Suguru made it?” a moan slipped from your lips while you positioned yourself more comfortably under him, getting yourself ready.
Letting go of your nipples with a sharp pop, “That fucker wouldn’t lie to me — oh fuck” your boyfriend released a gluttonous moan as he furrowed his brows, hissing while clenching his stomach from absolutely losing it right then and there, “d-don’t clench so suddenly like that.”
“Gotta keep up with the pace, baby girl,” licking your lips while cocking a brow. “So… are you going to fuck me,” clenching while you tugged his hips down to your pelvis, hearing him hiss on the impact made your guts tighten while you watched him melt from the pressure surrounding his heated length pulsing inside you. 
Using all your strength to turn your bodies around, now saddling your legs against his hips as you watched his stunned expression from above, it felt nice being in control. and fully sinking onto his cock as you started rolling your hips in repeated motions, in between wanting breaths, you asked,
“or am I gonna have to fuck you, pretty?” 
— next morning.
Ding!
From: Asshole
so did you succeed? 
To: Asshole
nah, fucked last night. you?
From: Asshole
nice.  but happy birthday, bro.
To: Asshole
thx so, you pulled through?
From: Asshole (5 hours later)
nah, we fucked the day after making the bet.  fucked again just now, too :P
Tumblr media
author's note: omg... first sooo sorry for the lack of editing on this. holy smokes, it was way too long and i didn't dare to read through all of this. but if you have, thank you! i greatly appreciate you
18K notes · View notes