i don’t care for gob

the first time was an accident. higuruma had just arrived home after a long day of work, shoulders heavy and eyes barely holding themselves open. a flash of light had caught his attention—you, his neighbour, light bracketing you as you pass your window in nothing but a small, lacy bra. his attention caught like a fly to honey, he’d found himself a slave to his own desires as he laid witness to your nightly routine. he’d watched you pull yourself apart, and wished it was his hands putting you back together.

it quickly becomes the small pleasure that lights up his day. he feels disgusting every time—he knows he should tell you, knows that he should stop looking. it’s invasive in a way that makes him sick to think of others doing the same to him. you’d hate him if you knew.

he watches anyway. it rapidly integrates itself into his nightly routine. he works until the sun has dipped below the horizon. he returns home with an unending ache in his back, a throbbing pain in his fingers, an iron weight around his heart. then he sheds his coat, runs a hand through his hair, and settles down on the armchair in his living room and watches as your bedroom light highlights your silhouette.

you always look so beautiful like that. you prance around your apartment in your underwear, lit up by the warm lights you always keep on. every time you retreat to your bedroom, he feels like it’s a show just for him. you grab a toy—this time a vibrator—and look down at it for just long enough for him to get a glimpse. when you lie down on your bed, arching your back and stretching indecently, he knocks his knees slightly wider.

you’re beautiful. you always take it so slow to start, tracing meaningless patterns around your breasts, your thighs, streaks of sensation beneath feather-light fingertips. he palms over himself idly, watching with heavy breaths. by the time you dip between your folds, fingers sliding easily, he’s hard enough to carve stone from the wait. you really know how to tease. he frees his cock from his pants as you spread your thighs wider, tracing slowly around your clit. he rubs his thumb over his cock as you arch on a gasp, fingers pressing with more pressure. when you finally bring your vibrator to your core, rubbing it where you’re sensitive, he strokes himself at a pace as steady as it is passionate; a physical means of getting off on the internal high of watching you fall apart. he comes with your name on his lips, a broken groan that tears itself from his chest.

when it’s done, he cleans himself up and watches you disappear into the shower, wishing you a quiet, guilty good night. the sickening clarity after the act almost outweighs the high of watching it. still, come the weekend, he’s out on his balcony talking to you from yours; you giggle at a joke he makes, invite him to come over, and he feigns unfamiliarity like he hasn’t memorised the layout of your apartment from his nights perving through your window. when he returns home, it doesn’t take long for you to pull out a dildo—it doesn’t take much longer for him to notice.

your mind felt hazy as toji slammed his hips into you, his thick, girthy cock stretching you out so deliciously. lewd screams left your parted lips as you felt his leaky tip brush against the spongy spot that made your eyes roll back.

"fuck—jii!"

low, raspy grunts escaped his chest as he threw his head back and grabbed your ass. a few strands of dark hair clung to his damp forehead, and his face contorted with pleasure. he was always so handsy, letting his rough hands roam all over you. he spread your cheeks apart so he could see your pretty pussy gushing around his length.

"shit—haah—arch that back for me, baby."

this was his favorite position: doggy style. toji loved watching your ass jiggle as you arched your back, your face smushed against the mattress, and your hair mussed up.

"toji—feel s’good," you moaned helplessly.

"fucking slut."

he felt your walls clench around him, his hips stuttering as your sweet cunt dripped down his slick length at his words. toji let out a small laugh, clearly amused.

"you like gettin’ called a slut, doll?" toji asked, leaving a loud smack on your ass.

"fuck—yesyesyes" you repeated pathetically. you could feel your body going numb as your mind began to run in circles.

toji reached for your hair, pushing it so you could turn your face to him. his jade eyes were dark as he smushed your cheeks together, admiring how wrecked you looked: black mascara running down your face, drool dripping from your chin and coating his fingers, your sweet half-lidded eyes staring at him with need.

"whore."

this earned you a final whiny, cute mewl. as you gushed and squirted all over his cock, your head fell back onto the soft pillow. you could almost feel toji's grin behind you.

the sound of his fingers suddenly connecting with your skin again, making a loud smack, snapped you out of your thoughts. you turned your head back around to look at him and found him already smiling at you.

"good girl. now make me cum."

.

.

.

you wake up to slobbery tits and a whimpering boy beside you. choso rubs his bulge against your hips while he whines against your nipple. he doesn't realize you're awake till you tangle your fingers in his hair.

he pulls off of you quickly, looking down in shame.

"it's okay, cho." you comfort him, pulling his face back down onto your nipple. "keep going."

his lips latch onto your nipple quickly, sucking and licking while rubbing his bulge harder on your hips. whines escape his throat as he uses you to fix his little problem.

he releases your nipple from his mouth and gives a harsh suck on the side of your boob. you let out a whimper, smiling at the whiny boy.

he starts to mark every part of your chest till you're covered in purple marks.

his bulge ruts sloppily against your hips. you reach down, pushing past his waistband and grabbing his cock. it's hot and hard. your thumb meets the tip, wet with precum.

choso whines. throwing his head into your neck and whining some more. "please—h-help."

you smile, teasing his leaking tip with your thumb. he twitches, whimpering about how good you feel.

"wanna be inside." he mumbles. you shake your head. "not yet, cho."

he whines and you swipe your thumb on his tip with a bit of pressure. he immediately lets out a pathetic moan, curling into your side and using your hand to get off.

he cums quickly, sighing and whimpering in your ear. you keep your hand around his heavy cock, waiting for him to come down his high so you can do it again.

it starts off as a coping mechanism after a long hard day. choso will pull your shirt down and suck on your nipple, softly, squeezing the other gently.

somehow over the months, it turns into an obsession. now, even after a good day, choso thinks he deserves to reward himself. his lips attach to your nipple, sucking and licking, rutting his bulge against your cunt.

if you're home all day with him, there's no point in putting on a bra, let alone a shirt. it will be stripped off you instantly. his lips will be attached to your chest in record time.

he loves sucking on them when he fucks you too. he pounds into you while licking your nipples, marking every single bare spot of skin. he thinks you look pretty like that. and when they all start to fade away, he fucks you again so he can mark them.

your tits will always be covered in his spit. he loves the way his spit shines when it catches a shimmer of light. he spits on your nipples before taking them into his mouth, admiring the wetness of him on your pretty buds.

he sucks your nipples while going to bed. you'll cradle his head in your chest while he sucks on your nipples like a baby with a pacifier. you've gotten used to feeling him falling asleep with your nipple in his mouth. his drool with slide on your skin as he sleeps with you in his mouth.

Toji didn’t even consider wearing a condom when you first met. And to be fair, neither did you. Your ‘honeymoon phase’ consisted of sinfully late nights and insatiable mornings—intertwined beneath damp sheets behind a barely soundproofed door. It’s a miracle you aren’t pregnant already.

But the infatuation eventually wore off—slowly sinking yourselves into a domestic routine.

So you could imagine his surprise when you stopped him—rolling over the pillows to retrieve that god forsaken wiener wrangler he hated so much. “C’mon, baby. Don’t you wanna be all full of me?”

“Toji, we gotta play it safe. You don’t wanna start changing diapers anytime soon, do you?”

You expected that quiet, disappointed huff off his, followed by him passive aggressively rolling the latex over his meaty tip and pushing in, but instead—

“I mean, s’not like I haven’t done it before.” He coos—all low and honest, his calloused fingers massaging your tummy. “You’d be so beautiful. All round and glowing—”

He presses a deep kiss to your lips, his own moving slow and sure. And without a trace of perversion, he pulls back—eyes warm and kind as they drag over the sight of you, sprawled out beneath him. “—carrying our baby.”

You’re not dumb, you know he just wants to get out of using that stupid ‘latex leech’ as he calls it—but something about how his eyes linger on your features, like he’s picturing how they’d mix with his own—it pools heat into your tummy and fuzz into your head.

More dirty thoughts | Masterlist.ᐟ

"stop, stop fucking stepping on me." re9!leon groans drunkenly from the couch as you loom over him, one heeled foot on his crotch, rubbing him. he grabs your ankle, eyes moping up to yours, teeth gritting. you two just came home from a lovely dinner, and this is how you treat him?

"don't act like you don't like it, leon. i can feel you getting hard underneath me." you push your foot harder, earning a sharp inhale and a squeeze to your leg from him. he chuckles to try to cover up his noises. definitely can feel him getting hard now- especially with the way he can see your laced panties underneath your dress from this angle.

"it's- ngh- embarrassing, sweetheart. c'mon, god. you can't do this shit to me anymore," he tries to get up, but you push him back. he almost growls. “please.” he doesn’t know if he’s begging you for more friction, or to save him from shame.

"that's what you said last time. let me have fun with you, old man," you purr. “i’ll make it worth your while.”

"you're such a pervert. acting like i'm your plaything."

morning sex with your boyfriend satoru (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾

you wake to the weight of him already pressing into the mattress beside you, the heat of his body seeping through the thin sheet. the morning light filters through the blinds, casting pale stripes across the room, and satoru is propped on one elbow, watching you with those half-lidded eyes that make your stomach clench. he doesn't say anything for a long moment, just traces a lazy finger down your collarbone, over the curve of your breast, stopping to circle your nipple until it stiffens under his touch.

“morning,” your boyfriend murmurs, voice rough with sleep, and the word is a promise.

you shift, stretching into his hand, and he takes that as permission. the sheet falls away as he leans down, mouth replacing fingers, tongue flat against your nipple before he sucks it between his lips. a soft gasp escapes you, hand finding its way into his white hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. he hums against your skin, the vibration traveling straight to your cunt, and you feel yourself already starting to slick up.

his free hand slides down your stomach, over your hip, fingers dipping between your legs. he doesn't rush, doesn't push, just traces the line of your slit through the damp fabric of your underwear, collecting the wetness that's already beading there. “fuck, you're soaked,” he breathes, pulling back just enough to look at you, that lazy grin spreading across his face. “been dreaming about me?”

you don't answer with words. you hook your leg over his hip, grinding your clothed cunt against his hand, and he takes the hint. his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down your thighs, and you lift your hips to help. he tosses them somewhere off the bed, not caring where they land, and then his hand is back, naked this time, two fingers sliding through your folds, collecting your wetness before he presses them inside.

the stretch is sweet, familiar, and you buck into his hand as he curls his fingers, finding that spot that makes your vision blur. he watches your face, that grin never quite leaving his lips, but his eyes are dark, hungry. “that's it,” he coaxes, pumping his fingers in and out, thumb pressing against your clit in slow, deliberate circles. “let me hear you.”

you're already breathless, hips moving in time with his hand, and when he adds a third finger, the pressure makes you gasp. he's not rushing, taking his time, working you open at a pace that's almost cruel. you can feel yourself clenching around his fingers, your body begging for more, and he knows it. he knows exactly what you need, and he's going to make you wait.

“satoru,” you whine, and the sound comes out broken, desperate.

“yeah?” he leans down, lips brushing your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “want my cock, don't you?”

“yes,” you gasp, and he pulls his fingers out slowly, deliberately, dragging them through your wetness one last time before he brings them to his own lips. he curls his tongue around them, tasting you, and the sight makes your cunt clench around nothing.

“god, you taste good,” he mutters, and then he's shifting, kneeling between your legs, his cock already hard and leaking against his stomach. he doesn't bother with his boxers, just pushes them down enough to free himself, and the first sight of him in the morning light makes your mouth water. he's thick, flushed, the head slick with pre-cum, and the way he strokes himself once, twice, before lining up with your entrance is almost too much.

he doesn't push in right away. he just rests the head against your soaked folds, sliding it through your wetness, teasing you both. your hips lift, trying to take him, but he holds still, that grin turning wolfish. “what's the hurry? we've got all morning.”