✦ 𖤐 ✦
you move to a new house in a new neighborhood, and you decide to bring cookies to the neighbor's house :3
you don't expect the neighbor to be that hot, and a dilf? score!!
featuring: toji, nanami, sukuna, gojo, geto (separate)
sry i'm probably not using dilf in the context yall may be expecting lmao, only toji has a kid in this fic
warnings: mdni - explicit smut, age gap, creampie, rough sex, bondage, choking, spit, sunscreen, fingering, oral, dubcon, size diff, voyeurism, overstimulation, thigh riding, weed use, uhhh yeahh this is filthyyyyy
toji:
you have fresh baked cookies piled up on a tray, just barely cooled down enough to not fall apart as you head out your front door. you can hear a nickelback song playing out beyond the yard, peering over to the neighbor's house.
your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the sight, a toddler playing in the grass with some sticks and the hottest man you've ever laid your eyes on using the bottom of his shirt to wipe a sheen of sweat off his forehead.
his abs are on full view, your eyebrows raising as you just stand there awkwardly. you shake your head to get back into your own world, walking over with a nervous smile.
you can smell freshly cut grass and the stink of oil, the sound of metal clinking as he fiddles with a tool.
he's covered in grease, an old beat up 1960's corvette propped up on a jack with the hood open. he sees you out of the corner of his eye, looking at you with a smirk tugging at his lips.
"uh, hi! i'm your new neighbor, i just wanted to bring some cookies over and introduce myself." you say in a kind voice, watching the way the toddler looks over at you and runs over.
"oooo can i have one? please daddy?" the boy asks, and the man sighs and wipes his greasy hands on his jeans. he stands up, literally towering over you.
you flush at how big he is, trying to look anywhere else that's not his bulging biceps. he takes the tray out of your hands, "thanks, sweetheart. here megumi, only one for now."
he hands the cookie to the little boy and he eats it in a rush, eyes lighting up. "wow, this is so yummy!" he beams, walking over to you and staring up at you.
"can you be my new mommy?"
you cough back a laugh, a smile forming on your face at the cute boy.
he wipes his hands on his jeans, towering over you, and says with a small grin, “sorry about him. i’m toji. nice to meet you.”
before you know it, you’re finding excuses to go over and chat with your older neighbor. every glance lingers a second too long, every handoff of cookies charged with unspoken electricity.
then, one weekend evening, after his son’s been sent away, he asks you to come over for dinner.
you're anxious, dressed in a cute little sundress that you pick at while you breathe in deeply. you knock at the door and hear his footsteps approach, the door cracking open and his dark eyes looking you up and down.
you can smell food cooking in the kitchen, soft glow of lights coating the house. he's got a lopsided grin on his face as he widens the door to let you walk through.
"thanks for inviting me over." you say, turning around to catch a glimpse of him staring at your ass.
he nods slowly, looking up to your eyes without a beat. "of course. gotta do somethin' nice for my sweet neighbor."
there's a certain tone he uses when he talks to you in private, one that sends heavy heat between your thighs. you can't help the way you nibble on your bottom lip, quickly looking in the direction of the kitchen.
"what'd you make?"
he comes closer to you, hand brushing against your lower back. you swallow hard, looking back and up to meet his eyes. you can tell he doesn't care about dinner anymore.
his blackened hands settle on your hips, "ya know, i don't think either of us care about dinner as much as we're pretendin' to."
your breath hitches, and you stop pretending like he's wrong. you lean up on your tip toes, lips crashing against his. he reacts immediately to the touch, kissing you back hungrily.
his fingers dig into the fat on your hips, sliding down until he's cupping your ass and pulling you flush into his large frame.
you gasp into the kiss, clash of teeth and tongue that turns into something heavier by the second. your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck, fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck.
his tongue massages into yours, tasting of whiskey and something minty. you can smell that oil and aftershave on him, an addicting combination.
you don't want to stop.
he pulls back for a moment, hands leaving your ass to pull you in the direction of the kitchen. he lifts you up and places you onto that counter across from the stove, dress lifting up in the process.
his eyes fall to that wet patch coating your cotton panties and he smirks, dirty thumb brushing against it and pressing in. "such a needy little thing, aren't you?"
you whine at the touch, hips twitching against his touch as he starts rubbing you through the fabric until it's soaked through completely.
your clit is screaming for attention, grinding into his touch to feel even a little friction. but his other hand holds you still, grip rough and clearly warning you to chill.
eventually he slides your panties aside, licking his lips as he stares at your glistening pussy. "fuck, a pretty pussy too? poor thing's beggin' to be touched." he smirks.
he tugs at his jeans, the slide of leather through belt loops as he drops his belt onto the floor. once he pulls his cock out, you look down at it with wide eyes.
it's fucking massive - how's that supposed to fit?
"ya like it?" he asks, and you nod sheepishly. "good, 'cause this isn't the only time i'm fuckin' you."
and with that he guides the tip in, your eyes rolling back and head slamming into the cabinets behind you. each thick inch of him causes your breath to stutter.
once he bottoms out, he's groaning in your ear. "fuckkkkk, it's takin' everythin' in me to not be rough with you."
"t-then do it." you stutter out in a whisper, chest heaving as you feel his hands on your hips squeeze harshly.
"don't know what you're askin' for." he mutters, but starts a brutal pace.
he slides you closer to the edge of the counter, gripping you hard as loud slaps start bellowing out. you can hear the desperate sizzle of the pan across from you, but the way he's fucking you drowns that all out.
you're crying out with each brutal push of his cock in you, the tip brushing into a spot that has you seeing stars. your hands are gripping his shoulders, fingernails digging into the fabric.
his hands slide down to your thighs, gripping onto them as he pulls your legs up until they're up at his shoulders now, feet hanging so he can drive even deeper.
the counter creaks under the weight of his aggression, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the kitchen alongside the frantic, rhythmic pop of the grease on the stove.
those dirty fingers reach for your clit, rubbing harsh tight circles into the sensitive nub until you're screaming out as you cum hard.
every wave of your orgasm causes your pussy to clamp around him, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his hips stutter at the feeling. you can tell he's getting closer.
"such a dirty fuckin' girl. knew you were gonna be trouble the moment i saw you." he rasps out, cock still hitting that sweet spot with every brutal thrust.
he increases the speed, his movements becoming a blur of friction and force. your head thumps rhythmically against the cabinet, the world narrowing down to the feeling of him filling you more than you knew possible.
the smell of burnt pasta and meat fills the air, a smell that has your nose crinkle in disgust behind those moans. but he doesn't care, he just continues fucking into you.
once he finishes, he's groaning out and stilling while fully sheathed in you. you can feel the heat of his cum, each spurt a delicious warmth that coats your pussy.
after he's done, he pulls out of you and pulls your panties back over your beat up pussy. he tucks himself back in his pants and buckles his belt back up, looking at you as if none of that happened.
he glances behind his shoulder, at the burnt food, and gives you a devious smirk. "well, food's burnt. guess we gotta go pick somethin' up. my treat."
he takes you to a diner in that corvette, loud engine whirring and cum pooling in your panties. you wouldn't have wanted your night to go any other way than this.
nanami:
it's late afternoon when you finally finish baking the cookies you wanted to bring to your neighbor's house, nerves bundling up in your tummy.
you check the window to make sure their vehicle is home, sighing in relief when you see a car. you head out the door and down the sidewalk, tray of cookies in hand.
the grass in their yard is perfectly trimmed, a vibrant shade of green compared to the rest of the houses around. there's a few small flowering shrubs too.
you inhale deeply and knock at the door, hearing footsteps come up to the door. a handsome man answers the door and your throat goes dry, eyes looking the suit-clad man up and down in surprise.
he's fine as hell!
his tired eyes widen a bit as he takes you in, before he focuses on the tray of cookies you're holding with a small smile. "hi! i just moved in next door and wanted to bring some cookies over and introduce myself."
once you properly introduce yourself to him, he's whisking the tray from your hands, fingers brushing against yours for a moment. your face heats up as he pushes the door open a bit wider.
"i'm kento nanami. why don't you come in for some tea? i just made some." he offers.
you walk through the door and follow him through the beautiful house. everything's so neatly placed, but still cozy in the best ways. he leads you over to a table tucked in the dining room, setting the tray down.
"please, sit."
you do. you take a seat at one of the chairs, eyes wandering at the paintings framed around the room. then, you look back to him.
he takes his coat off, and your mouth goes dry as you watch him remove his tie. you aren't sure how he manages to make such simple actions look so sexy, but you're quickly looking away when his eyes catch your stare.
your neighbor offers for you to come by once a week after that for tea, every visit becoming more comfortable than the last. you share laughter across the table, talking long after the cups are empty, becoming something closer to friends than just neighbors.
your attraction to him only grows the more you learn about him. he works late, often coming home tired from long hours, but beneath that workaholic routine he’s surprisingly warm and easy to talk to.
and this time, when he asks you to come over, you can tell something’s different. the way he looked at you the week before said it all - a lingering gaze that stayed on you just a little too long.
you could see that pent up tension in his eyes, because it'd been hiding beneath yours too.
when he opens the door tonight, he isn’t wearing his usual suit jacket. his sleeves are rolled up, tie loosened, and his eyes settle on you with a focus that makes your pulse jump.
he doesn't greet you like he usually does, he just simply pushes the door open until you've walked through before he's shutting it and locking it behind you.
you tilt your head as you look at him, "long day?"
he lets out a heavy sigh, back turned to you as he rests his forehead against the door. "very."
you frown at the sound of his voice, a twinge of empathy rising. he always seems so overworked, tense. you wish there was something you could do to help him.
he walks over to you, tall frame blocking your view. his heavy hands grip onto your shoulders and you gasp, looking up at him.
he gives you no time to think or even speak, just crashing his lips onto yours in a clash of teeth and tongue. you moan into the kiss, feeling his hands slide from your shoulders down to your waist.
he tastes like espresso and cinnamon and smells of fresh linens, a combo that has your head spinning. your arms wrap around his neck loosely, standing on your tip toes to reach him better.
his lips leave yours for just a moment, his hands reaching for his neck and tugging his tie off. his dark eyes bore into yours as he grabs your wrists, turning your body around and knotting the fabric behind your back.
you tug at the fabric, swallowing thickly. he grips your hands and pulls you in the direction of the table you always sit at, pushing you into the wall of the room.
you look up at him, face hot with embarrassment. his fingers brush against your bottom lip, "i've been holding myself back for so long around you."
he kisses you again, rougher than the first time. his lips move against yours with perfect precision, tongue swiping against your own until you're liquid in his hands.
you're absolutely soaked by now, just the taste and smell of him alone being more than enough to get you going. your fingers dig into the fabric of the tie that's looped around your wrists as you whine out.
his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging your head back as your lips leave his. you mewl out when his lips immediately start terrorizing the sensitive skin of your neck, biting down on the skin and sucking into it as he moves lower.
you're shaking against him, body vibrating with an intense need. he leaves a slew of new marks along your neck and collarbones before he's kissing you again.
his grip on your hair stays the same, the free hand gripping onto your throat and pushing into your windpipe just the slightest amount. enough to have you moan out into his mouth, toes curling.
not long into the making out, you feel him press into you. his bulge is massive, digging into your skin feverishly as his tongue massages into yours. every intense breath through your noses cause his glasses to fog up more and more.
eventually he's forcing you to bend over the table, hands working the fabric of your shorts and panties down without any hesitation. you gasp at the quickness of it, nerves bubbling up.
"fuck… i wish i did this sooner." he breathes, a cut of a growl passing his lips as his fingers swipe between your dripping folds.
a fingertip digs into your clit and you whine out, hips stuttering against his touch. he stops, and you hear the clink of metal as he takes his belt off. it falls to the floor, and the sound of a zipper rings out.
you're so nervous, but you don't want him to stop. every touch, every breath, every noise that he makes. it has your pussy drooling out pathetically, slick gathering up and dripping down your thighs.
you feel the fat head of his cock bellow in, swiping up and down and stabbing into your clit. your fingers dig into the tie at the feeling, gasping when he pushes in.
your eyes roll into the back of your head with each inch. his hands grip onto yours through the tie, tugging the fabric until you're arched into him.
that causes all of him to fill you at once, a burning pleasure that rips through your whole body. your mouth falls open, eyes clamped shut.
you're pressed into the cool wood of the table, and as he slowly drags his cock out and slams back in, you hear the rhythmic clink of the glassware echo out in the dining room.
one hand directs your tied wrists, holding them tightly to bounce your ass off of him. the other's gripping your hip, nails digging into your skin with each brutal push of his cock.
you cry out with each heavy thrust that steals your breath away, chest heaving into the table. he's grunting with each movement, forearms flexing as he pulls you closer.
"spent my whole fucking day imagining this. having you bent over my table like this. doesn't an old man like me disgust you?"
you shake your head, "n-no! i-i've always - fuck-" you cry out, "i've always wanted this. since the day we met."
his grip on you becomes tighter, thrusts rougher as the slaps start to bellow out louder than before.
you can feel the tip hitting something inside of you that has you reeling, so close to cumming already. each tap tap tap of it lifting you higher, higher, until your pussy starts clamping around him with a scream.
he growls out at it, hips stuttering against your ass for a split second before its brutal pace picks back up. "fuck, you're squeezing me so tight." he hisses through his teeth.
his hand lets go of your wrists and reaches for your hair instead, fisting it and tugging hard. the pain is a delicious spread through your body, each heavy tug twinging all the way to your clit.
you feel the hardest tug when he stills, hot spurts of cum filling your pussy up as he groans out. you're shaking against him, legs numb and thighs burning.
after you take some time to catch your breaths, he eventually pulls out and unties your hands. they burn from the friction of his tie, but he's quick to take you to his bathroom and wash you down in the shower.
he cleans your red wrists, spending each moment to make sure that you're okay and cleaning your sweaty body. by the end of the evening, you're snuggled up to him on his couch watching a movie.
sukuna:
you heard some gossip about your neighbor from the old ladies in town while shopping. they'd warned you about the 'devil' next door, and how even if he's a handsome man he's no good.
they said he was a dirty, no good pervert. a man who'd just love having a pretty little thing like you nextdoor.
but you still decided to bake the cookies, thinking that they're probably just being dramatic.
but as you get closer to his house, the smell of weed cutting through the windows covered in heavy curtains with heavy metal blaring, you're starting to believe them a bit.
you knock on the door a few times, hearing an annoyed groan come from inside. you hear muttering up until the moment a lock, comes undone, door swinging open.
"i can smoke my fuckin' weed. it's legal- oh, hello there." smoke puffs from his nose as a smirk tugs at his lips.
they were right about him being attractive, but you think they underexaggerated that part. he's disgustingly hot. like, model or hot lead singer for a band hot.
he looks at the small tray of cookies in your hands and plucks one off the tray, taking a large bite out of it before he's groaning dramatically. "fuckin' good. thanks."
he takes a hit off of a dab pen, blowing the smoke right in your face. you just smile at him a bit awkwardly, but the steady ache that tightens in your tummy confirms that this man's exactly the trouble you want around.
every day from that day creates a new game that you aren't a willing participant of. suddenly, your nextdoor neighbor has no curtains on his windows. sometimes when you're in the living room, you hear noises coming from his house.
one day, you physically saw him jerking his own dick off right in front of the glass.
you pretended not to notice it - the dark, thick, long mass that swelled between his legs - but your fingers weren't enough to get it off your mind that night.
one day you finally gain the courage to do your own play, grabbing one of your tiniest black bikinis and tugging it on. you slap one of those tanning chairs down in the yard on a day where the sun's beating down, slathering your body with sunblock.
you hear the sound of his back door snap shut, footsteps that crunch into the rotted leaves covering his yard. he doesn't care that you can hear him. and you don't care that he's looking.
you play some random music on a small speaker, sipping at your glass of lemonade you tucked off in the shade before bending over to adjust the chair a bit.
and yes, you did indeed bend over like that facing the gap in the fence he's shamelessly staring at.
you hum along to the music, pretending like you don't notice him as you lie down on the chair. you close your eyes, pressing your tits together as the sun beats down on you.
you can hear him breathing every so often, or the groan of wood as he leans into it. and soon, you're just bored.
"so… are you gonna come over instead of staring at me like a fucking creep? think i missed a spot with the sunscreen, wanna come help me get it?"
the wood groans and you hear a thud, then heavy footsteps that tread up to you. you peel your eyes open, smirking up at the older man. he's shirtless, revealing all of those delicious tattoos you'd caught a glimpse of before.
he crosses his arms, eyes narrowed. "about time you said something. thought you were just a boring little brat."
he's quick to reach for that bottle of sunscreen, the plastic creaking under his grip. he looms over the tanning chair, blocking out the sun so you're suddenly shivering in his shadow.
"a spot you missed, huh?" his voice is a low, gravelly scrape.
you smirk and nod up at him, licking your lips as you look his body up and down. "a few spots, actually. guess i just needed someone to come help me." you say in an innocent tone.
he kicks your legs apart with the toe of his boot, forcing you open right there in the blinding daylight. he flips the cap of the bottle with his thumb - the click loud enough to echo out in the yard - and he doesn't rub it into his hands first.
he aims the bottle right at the center of your bikini bottoms. you gasp as the cold, thick white cream hits the fabric, soaking through immediately to the sensitive skin of your clit.
"look at that," he sneers, his thumb coming down to smear the lotion through the fabric, pressing hard against the nub that’s already throbbing for him. "soaked already. you must’ve been burning up over here watching me, you little pervert."
"sukuna-" you whimper, but he cuts you off aggressively.
"shut up and fucking take it."
he rubs harsh circles into your clit, your breath picking up with each brush. he rubs the white cream until it's translucent, until you're holding in each whimper with all of your energy.
he tugs the string on one side of your hips, then the other. he tugs the fabric of your bottoms down, smirking down at your soaked pussy glistening. "you're a nasty little bitch, aren't you?"
he slaps your clit, sudden stinging pain. you whine out, eyes rolling back. two fingers roughly press into you, roughly thrusting in and out of you. wet squelches start echoing in your backyard, his thumb rough as it beats on your clit.
you can already feel a heavy pressure building up, the steady pulse in your clit that spreads sparks through your entire body. each heavy thrust of his thick fingers is just too good-
and that's when you cum hard. your eyes clamp shut, wave after wave of pure ecstasy flowing through you. "fucking nasty. you squirted."
he works you through it, slapping your clit again when he pulls his fingers out.
you're positive that you've died and gone to heaven. he made you squirt, something you didn't even know you could do.
he scoffs at the mess you’ve made on the tanning chair, a dark, dangerous chuckle vibrating in his chest. "look at this. you're practically begging for the whole neighborhood to see what a mess you are."
he doesn't give you a chance to recover. he grabs your wrists and hauls you up, dragging you toward the wooden fence. he spins you around, slamming your chest against the rough grain of the wood.
you gasp as the sun-warmed splinters press into your skin, but the heat of his body behind you is a thousand times more intense.
"you like being watched, don't you?" he growls into your ear. "i saw you through the glass the other night. fingers deep in yourself while you stared at me. tell me, princess... who were you thinking about?"
he doesn't wait for an answer. he’s already unzipping his fly, the heavy metal clinking of his belt echoing in the quiet afternoon. he hooks a leg around yours, forcing you even wider against the fence.
you feel that hot blunt tip pressing into you, a gasp passing your lips as he starts inching his way into your pussy.
the rough wood of the fence digs into your palms as he hitches your hips higher, his breath hot and smelling of that bitter weed and expensive cologne against the shell of your ear.
his hands grip your hips, bruising and rough, as he starts fucking into you hard. skin slaps against skin loudly, breaking the serene sound of cicadas and birds off in the trees.
the fat tip of his cock hits that same spot in you that his fingers were beating into, each brutal thrust slapping into it until you're actually screaming.
"such a nasty little girl, keep letting those noises out. tell everyone who's fucking you this good." his voice is a growl in your ear, soaked with pure smugness.
"it's you!" you whine, eyes rolling into the back of your head. you're drooling from the pleasure, and your clit is screaming for him again already.
"say my name," he commands, his voice dropping into a register that vibrates through your entire spine. he reaches around, fisting your hair and pulling your head back so your throat is exposed to the harsh afternoon sun.
"i want the old ladies next door to hear exactly who’s making you scream like a gutter bitch."
"sukuna - ah! - sukuna, please!" you sob out, your toes barely touching the grass as he hitches you higher, his cock bottoming out with a force that makes your vision go white.
he laughs, a dark, jagged sound. "please what? please stop? or please let the neighbors see me flip you around and show 'em exactly how much of a mess you’ve made of my fence?"
he shifts his grip, one hand staying on your hip to keep the brutal pace while the other reaches down. he finds that engorged, overstimulated clit - still sensitive from the slapping - and starts grinding his thumb into it with zero mercy.
the combination of the friction, the sun beating down on your bare back, and the thick, unrelenting stretch of him filling you is too much. you’re not just cumming; you’re losing your mind.
your legs give out, and the only thing keeping you upright is his crushing grip and the fact that he’s physically pinned you to the property line.
"that's it," he growls, feeling your pussy walls start to pulse and seize around him. "take every fucking drop of it. i’m gonna make sure you smell like me for the rest of the week."
he lets out a final, guttural roar as he slams into you one last time, his body locking up as his cum floods into you. he stays there for a long minute, chest heaving against your back, the smell of sunscreen and weed thick in the air.
he leaves after you've both come down, walking off to his own yard with his hands tucked into his pockets. "same time tomorrow."
the next morning you're at the grocery store, the old ladies that gossiped to you that first day are giving you dirty and disgusted looks as they whisper to each other.
gojo:
you don't even get to bring your cookies over to your neighbors house.
you're pulling the baking tray out of the oven with steam flying into the air when you hear a knock at the door, eyebrows furrowing as you head to the front door and look through the peep hole.
your cheeks heat up when you notice the hot older guy leaning against your glass door, looking down at the knee socks and baggy tee covering your body. you consider if you should open the door.
"i heard you come to the door, i won't bite unless you ask!"
you scoff at his audacity, unlocking the door and swinging it open. his bright blue eyes immediately look you up and down, licking his lips as a smirk toys at them.
"well, hello there. i'm satoru gojo, i live next door. thought i'd come by and introduce myself."
he stands tall, thick ripples of muscle coating his arms despite the fact that he's clearly older. he has grey sweats and a tight fitting black tee, arms crossed and flexing his forearms from the pressure.
you swallow thickly. he's going to be trouble. "uh, yeah hi. i was actually getting ready to bring some cookies over so i could introduce myself," you laugh awkwardly, "but you can just come in. i'll get them trayed up."
he follows closely as you come into the house, bringing him into your kitchen. they've had enough time to cool down, so you tuck them into a plastic tray.
"nice house." he says, looking around a bit. his eyes lock onto the faucet that's steadily dripping at the sink, "i can fix that for you, if you want?"
that starts a pattern. a few days later, he's knocking on your door at 8pm talking about how you have wiring issues because your porch light's been flickering, so he offers to fix that.
but after you got a view up close of him with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, grunting as he manhandles the power box and takes care of you, you traded numbers with him.
satoru :( my cabinet isn't supposed to lean like this is it?
*attached image*
No sweetheart, I'll be right over.
he's over once a week now, inspecting small things around the house that you know aren't that big of a deal. but you just love hearing the noises he makes when he's gotta lift heavy things up, the way his muscles flex.
eventually, your bedframe's been squealing and feels a bit more shaky than normal. you totally did not take a bolt out from the frame to get an excuse for him to come over.
i think my bed frame is broken, can you come take a look?
he leaves you on read, which makes your stomach drop. too far, maybe?
you take a sip of the glass of wine next to you, still seated on the couch. the door swings open and he marches in, clad in another pair of grey sweats. you eat that up, suddenly sitting up straight as your eyes meet.
"where's your bedroom?"
you smirk but immediately drop it, standing up with that glass of wine to take another sip before clinking it into the wood. you walk down the hall towards your bedroom, flicking the light on.
he's right behind you, heat from his chest barreling into your back. you look to your right and make eye contact, motioning towards the bed covered in stuffed animals.
he walks into the room and you finally speak up, "i don't know what's going on with it."
you watch closely as he presses a large hand into the mattress, bed creaking out beneath the pressure. the noise makes your ears ache, flinching at it.
he looks at you and raises an eyebrow before dropping to his knees, leaning and looking under your bed. the bolt sits there, unscrewed and lingering next to the hole it's meant to be in.
"huh. looks like someone took this bolt out." his voice carries that same amused tone he always uses when he catches you staring a little too long.
you smirk. "that's so weird." you say sarcastically.
he reaches for the bolt, screwing it back in slowly so it squeaks out obnoxiously with each twirl. "cute. you know, these bolts don't tend to fall out on their own."
your heart rate picks up, flushing as he swipes his hands over those sweats you always stare at. he's got a glint in his eye as he faces you, hands gripping your hips.
"you know, if you wanted me in your bed that bad sweetheart, you could've just asked."
he takes a seat on the bed, no creaks ringing out now. his legs are wide open, a stiff bulge that you try your hardest not to stare at. he pats his thick thighs, "c'mon. let's see if my work's gonna hold up."
you slowly walk until you're flush against his thighs, his hands sliding from the socks stretch to the fat of your thighs up to your waist.
"these socks look real nice on you. i like them a lot." he says, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin.
you bite down on your bottom lip, embarrassed at the proximity. you know that you've soaked through your panties, and the moment he finds out too you won't hear the end of it.
he cups your ass, pulling you close until your tits are pressed into him. he lifts you like you weigh nothing, settling you down onto one thick leg.
your clit is throbbing against the muscle, breath hitching at the feeling of you pressed into him like this. he grips your hips, dragging you down and across the cords of muscle.
you bite down on your bottom lip, small whine just barely passing your lips. his hand slaps down on your ass, a smirk breaking out.
"nuh uh, make those pretty noises f'me."
you can’t help the way your head falls back, another whine spilling out as he continues that slow, agonizing drag of your weight over his thigh.
he’s so solid, so warm, and the friction of your cotton panties against your soaked folds is making your vision go blurry. it isn't long until your slick is dragging through the fabric of his sweats, a damp patch darkening.
his hands are huge, fingers splayed over your lower back to keep you pinned. "you're making such a mess of my sweats, sweetheart."
he tears the stimulation away, forcing you to stand up on wobbly legs. he lies back further on the bed, resting his head against one of your stuffed animals. it's an insanely erotic view, his heavy bulge begging to be released as he sits there.
"well? take a seat."
you climb onto him, knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips as you settle down. you’re shaking, the sheer size of him beneath you making your head swim.
he doesn't move to help you, just watches with those piercing eyes, arms folded behind his head. he looks so relaxed, so in control, while you’re literally falling apart.
"i like the way you look from down here," he muses, his voice a low vibration that you feel in your soul. "those little socks really do it for me. makes you look so... innocent."
you lean down and finally press your lips into his, tasting peppermint and smelling a musky cologne as you're pressed into him. he immediately reacts, slowly dragging his tongue against yours.
your hips mindlessly grind into his, pressing your soaked panties into the bulge of his sweats as you desperately seek out friction.
his hands finally leave his head, sliding down to grip the back of your thighs, right at the top of those socks. he doesn't just hold you; he digs his fingers in, pulling you down harder against him while he swallows your moans.
"don't stop now, sweetheart. you were doing so good on your own," he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and uneven.
you keep grinding, desperate and clumsy, until he lets out a sharp huff of a laugh. he reaches between your bodies, his hand fumbling with the waistband of those grey sweats until he finally frees himself.
the moment he's out, the sheer heat of him hitting your soaked panties makes you gasp. he’s thick, pulsing, and when you settle back down, you’re sitting right on the head of him.
he doesn't wait for you to move this time. he grips your waist and starts the motion for you, a slow and steady roll of his hips that has you clutching at his shoulders for dear life.
"look at me," he commands, and you force your eyes open to meet that piercing blue. he’s smirking, but his jaw is tight, a vein popping in his neck. "you've been wanting this since the day i knocked on your door, haven't you?"
you can't even lie. you just nod, a pathetic little sob breaking out as he hooks his thumbs into the elastic of your panties and tugs them down just enough so he can press the tip of his cock into you.
your body jolts as the hot, pre cum slicked head of him smears against your entrance. he doesn't shove it in. he’s a tease, keeping it right at where you're drooling slick while he watches your expression shatter.
"please, satoru," you whimper, your fingers digging into his shoulders, nails probably leaving little crescents in his skin.
he chuckles, a low vibration in his chest that you feel deep in your own. "please what? finish fixing your bed, sweetheart? i think it’s doing just fine now."
you let out a frustrated whine, dropping your head to his shoulder and biting into the skin. it's the only way to ground yourself as he finally hitches his hips up, a slow, agonizingly thick inch of him sliding inside you.
your eyes clamp shut at the stretch, pussy clamping around him vigorously. he lets out a sharp hiss through his teeth, his hands tightening on your hips until it's almost bruising.
you lift your hips and drop down, a loud sudden cry passing your lips as the tip hits that spongy spot in you. "fuck- oh my god." you whimper.
you try to find a rhythm, but he’s too big, too much. you’re still shaking, and every time you try to lift yourself, your muscles just give out. he sees you struggling and a devious little grin spreads across his face.
"look at you. all that work to get me here and now you don't even know what to do."
he doesn't wait for your comeback. he grips your waist again and takes over, his hips bucking upward with a force that sends him all the way to your hilt. you scream into his neck, your muffled cries swallowed by the skin of his shoulder as your vision goes white.
he’s brutal with it, a fast, rhythmic pounding that has the bed frame - the one he just fixed - creaking rhythmically against the wall. it's loud and messy, the sound of your wet pussy taking every bit of him echoing through the quiet bedroom.
"is it... agh... is it holding up?" he rasps out, a sharp huff of laughter breaking through his heavy breathing.
you can't even answer him, your head just thrashes against his shoulder as he continues that relentless, upward pace. his hands are like iron on your hips, keeping you centered while he absolutely wrecks you from beneath.
"answer me, sweetheart," he grunts, his voice dropping into that dark, command tone that makes your pussy clench even tighter. "the bed... is it fixed yet?"
"y-yes! f-fuck, satoru-" you sob, the friction of your clit rubbing against his lower stomach with every buck of his hips sending you over the edge.
you cum hard, body seizing up and shaking against his touch as you cry out, heavy sobs wracking through your body.
the blue of his eyes is blown out, almost entirely pupil now as he watches the way your face breaks. he loves it. he loves that he’s the one making you look this undone. he reaches up, fisting your hair to pull your head back so he can see your eyes while you’re coming apart.
"good girl," he praises, but his voice is thick with his own need now.
he doesn't let you rest. he flips you in one fluid motion, suddenly pinning you to the mattress with your legs hiked up over his shoulders. those knee socks are still on, a contrast against his bare skin.
he leans over you, his large frame blocking out every bit of light in the room. his hands find your wrists, pinning them above your head while he starts a brutal, downward drive.
the bed frame is slamming against the wall now, a steady thump-thump-thump that has to be waking up the other neighbors, but neither of you care. he's taking everything from you, his cock hitting your cervix with enough force to make your toes curl and stay that way.
"so much... louder... when you're on your back," he gasps out, his composure finally cracking.
you feel him twitching in you, hips sputtering, then he finally stills and cums. thick ropes of hot cum fill you up, a groan passing his lips as his nails dig into your wrists above your head.
he stays there, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to catch his breath. his heart is hammering against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat that matches your own.
after a long minute, he finally pulls out with a wet pop, the sound making you whine softly at the loss of him. he doesn't move far, though. he just collapses next to you, pulling you into his side and tucking your head under his chin.
he’s still smirking, even as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek with a heavy thumb.
"so," he pants, his voice returning to that playful, arrogant lilt. "i think the bed’s definitely broken now, sweetheart. guess i'll have to come back tomorrow to fix it again."
he looks down at your feet, still clad in those rumpled knee socks, and gives your hip a playful slap.
geto:
the steady thrum of distant thunder crackles out as you walk outside, tray of cookies snug in your arms. it's sunny, but the clouds looming out west say that'll be over with soon.
you walk down your porch steps and approach your neighbors house, suddenly feeling a bit awkward when you notice an older man with his hair pulled half up leaning under a tree.
he's drawing, pencil scraping against paper loudly. but he stops when he sees you in his peripherals, looking up at you with tired, dark eyes. "hello. new neighbor, i'm assuming? i'm suguru geto."
you're too distracted by his thick forearms and biceps that are coated in tattoos, to reply for a moment. but once you process his words, you flush and introduce yourself to him.
a knowing smirk tugs at his lips as he closes the book, standing up and absolutely towering over you, broad shoulders blocking out the sun for a second. you swallow thickly.
"are those for me? come on, let's get them inside before that rain picks up."
you head inside with him, looking around at his home as you follow him. he's got a nice aesthetic going on, drawings and paintings covering the darkly painted walls.
you can smell burnt incense and weed, small incense burner still smoking near one of the windows.
he leads you towards his dining room and you set the tray down where he points. "thank you. i appreciate the gesture."
you talk a bit more with him before leaving once the heavy patter of rain begins. days pass before you see him again, heading to his house to get to know each other.
he's a nice guy. he has a lot of interests, but he's a tattoo artist at a parlor in town for his main job. when he mentioned to you he likes smoking weed, you're quick to suggest that you guys can smoke together sometime.
it becomes an almost nightly thing, one of you bringing flower and sitting on the porch while you smoke.
this time's different. it's raining hard outside and cold, so he offers to smoke in his house. you hesitate at first, but when he insists that he doesn't care you follow him in there.
he pulls out a bong, and you both smoke until your head's cloudy. the patter of rain slapping into the tin roof echoes softly, radio playing some random rock song quietly.
your lidded eyes fall to him, caught up on the way he's not wearing a shirt today. every swirl of ink is on full view, melting in with perfectly sculpted muscle.
you're locked in on his big ring-covered hands and how they completely cover the bong as he takes a heavy hit, a cough escaping his mouth with a large puff of smoke. you can see scars along his thick fingers.
"you want another hit?" he offers, lifting the bong in your direction. you shake your head, the motion dizzying. he sets it down, clink of glass against wood.
the rain picks up a bit outside and he leans to turn the radio up a bit more. his hair is fully down today, framing his face as his reddened gaze meets yours again.
"you're staring again," he muses, his voice a low, honeyed rasp that vibrates through the humid air of the room. he leans back, his weight supported by those ink-heavy arms, watching the way you track the movement of his throat when he swallows.
he doesn't wait for you to answer. he reaches out, his large, ringed hand wrapping around your ankle and tugging you across the sofa until you're flush against his side. the smell of sandalwood and weed is dizzying.
"tell me," he whispers, his thumb tracing the bone of your ankle with agonizing slowness. "is it the tattoos? or are you just wondering what it feels like to have these hands on you?"
your face blazes with heat, your breath stopping in your throat. "w-what?"
he huffs a quiet laugh, "no need to be embarrassed," he says looking at you with an all too friendly smile. "lots of women stare. but i also don't let any of them into my home… you're the exception to that rule."
you swallow thickly as your eyes remain locked onto one another.
you are soaked right now. no doubt about it. even with your hazy mind and dry eyes, you're so unbelievably turned on by suguru.
all of your senses are heightened by your high, licking your lips as your last little bit of resolve dwindles into nothing. a shaking hand reaches for one of his, pulling his hand towards your throat.
his eyes lilt with something predatory, immediately gripping into your skin until you gasp out from the lack of air.
"so desperate you're putting my hands on you," he shakes his head, hand sliding up from your throat to your chin. you can feel the cool of the rings pressing into your skin. "should've known you'd be such a needy little whore."
you whine at the insult, his other hand wrapping around your waist to tug you closer to him. "bet you're fucking soaked too."
you flush but nod, "i am…"
he laughs in your face, pulling you until you're on his lap. your knees sink into the couch on either side of his hips, feeling his hardened cock press into you.
you're buzzing from the motion, pure pleasure coursing through your veins. your hips twitch against him and you bite down on your bottom lip roughly.
his eyes flicker to your bottom lip, his thumb brushing against it and tugging your jaw open. his thumb settles on your tongue, pressing down until you're sitting there on his lap with your mouth open.
you watch the nasty smirk that covers his mouth before he leans over you, spitting into your mouth.
the spit is warm and tastes like the weed you just shared, and you swallow it down instinctively, your eyes blown wide and glassy. he doesn't let go of your jaw, his grip tightening until it's almost painful, forcing you to look at him while you choke on a moan.
"swallowed it like a good girl," he purrs, the sweetness of his tone clashing violently with the way he's looking at you. "you've been thinking about this since the day you brought those cookies over, haven't you? playing the sweet little neighbor while you're actually just a filthy little slut."
he doesn't wait for you to answer, his hand sliding down from your face to the hem of your shirt, bunching the fabric up and tossing it over your head in one fluid motion.
you shiver in the cool air of the room, but the heat radiating off his tattooed chest is enough to make you sweat.
his rings are cold as he brushes them over your nipples, his eyes tracking the way they pebble up instantly.
he reaches for the button of your jeans, popping it with a flick of his thumb. he doesn't take them off properly; he just shoves them down along with your lace panties until they're around your knees, trapping you on his lap.
his hand find your sobbing pussy, and he lets out a dark, amused huff when his fingers slide right into your folds. "fuck. you really are pathetic. look how wet you are."
he starts to drive two fingers into you, his pace erratic. he isn't trying to be gentle; he’s trying to overwhelm you. his thumb finds your clit and stays there, grinding in heavy, punishing circles that have you sobbing into the quiet room.
"don't look away," he commands, his voice dropping an octave. "i want to see every bit of that pretty little face while i ruin you."
you try to keep eye contact, but the feeling of those calloused, scarred fingers stretching you out is too much. your head starts to loll back, but he immediately fists your hair, yanking your head forward until your foreheads are touching.
"i said look at me."
loud squelches echo off the walls in contrast to the rain pouring down onto the roof, each curl of his fingers against your g spot causing you to whine out more and more as you feel the weight of an orgasm crashing into you.
his thumb on your clit presses into you so hard it pushes you right over your peak, cumming around his ringed fingers with a loud cry. he works you through it until you're shaking and writhing on his lap, smirking as you twitch around.
"nuh uh. i'm not done with you yet."
your eyebrows furrow, but the dizzying pleasure in tandem with how heightened all of your senses are from the weed has your eyes tearing up before you can stop it.
the squelches continue until you've cum two more times, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as you stare into his dark eyes.
then he pulls his hand out with a wet squelch that makes you flinch. he reaches for his pants, freeing his cock and guiding you down onto it.
you're speared on his cock now when he pushes your hips down roughly, the tip of him hitting into that sensitive spongy spot in your pussy. your clit throbs against his pelvic bone, whines passing your lips.
he doesn't let you catch your breath. he starts a rhythmic, punishing pace, his hips bucking upward to meet every one of your descents.
the squelching sound of his cock sliding in and out of your overstimulated pussy is so loud it makes you want to hide, but he won't let you.
his hand finds your jaw again, forcing your head up so you have to look at his dark, blown-out eyes. "i told you to stay with me. look at me while i stretch you out."
you’re crying openly now, fat tears blurring your vision as the pleasure becomes too much to handle. it’s a constant, high-voltage ache that has your pussy clamping around him in desperate waves.
every time you try to close your eyes, he tugs your hair or squeezes your throat just enough to remind you who’s in charge.
you're a sobbing mess on his lap, your hands clutching at his tattooed shoulders for any kind of leverage as he thrusts brutally in you. the combination of being high and the absolute sensory overload of his cock hitting your cervix is making your brain short circuit.
he reaches down, his ringed fingers finding your clit again, and he doesn't just rub it - he pinches it between his thumb and forefinger while he's still thrusting upward.
the scream that leaves your throat is raw, your body arching as you cum for the fourth time. your pussy is clamping around him so hard it's almost painful, but he just grunts, his pace becoming even more brutal as he ignores your pleas for him to stop.
"look at you. such a sensitive little thing. i've barely touched you." he mocks, his voice dripping with that honeyed cruelty.
his rough thrusts clap like thunder against the walls, cool rings hard on your skin as he grips your hips and hugs you into his arms, fucking into you so quick that you can do nothing but sob and scream.
"fuck- i'm gonna breed you." he growls in your ear, thrusts sputtering into a stop as he fills you with hot ropes of cum. he keeps his hands locked on your hips, pinning you to him until the very last drop of his cum has spurted into you.
the silence of the room is heavy, only broken by the frantic sound of your breathing and the steady drumming on the tin roof.
then, his grip softens. those hands that were just bruising your hips and pulling your hair start to move with a gentleness that makes your heart ache even worse than the pleasure did.
he reaches up, his thumb tenderly wiping the tears from your cheeks, his dark eyes no longer predatory but soft, almost regretful. "hey... look at me, sweetheart. i've got you."
he shifts, lifting you easily and pulling your jeans and panties back up over your trembling legs, taking his time to make sure you're decent. he doesn't care about the mess on the couch; he just cares about the way your eyes are still glazed and glassed over.
he stands up, scooping you into his arms like you’re made of glass, and carries you toward his bedroom. the air in there is cooler, smelling of clean sheets and that same incense from earlier.
he sets you down carefully on the bed, like you might shatter if he’s too rough now.
the mattress dips under your weight and you curl instinctively into the blankets, body still trembling from everything he just dragged out of you. the room is dim, rain still drumming steadily against the roof.
he stands there for a moment, watching you. his chest rises and falls slowly, tattoos stretching across his ribs as he exhales. some of your tears are still wet on his fingers.
“…shit,” he mutters quietly to himself.
you blink up at him through heavy lashes, still dazed. the haze from the weed and the orgasms makes everything feel slow and warm.
he notices the way you’re shivering. his expression shifts instantly.
“hey,” he murmurs, voice softer now. completely different from the one that had you crying on his lap minutes ago.
he reaches for the blanket at the end of the bed and drapes it over you, tucking it around your shoulders.
“cold?”
you nod weakly. his hand comes up again, thumb brushing under your eye where another tear slips free. the rings are cool, but his touch is gentle enough that it makes your chest ache.
“didn’t mean to push you that hard,” he says quietly.
you stare at him, still trying to catch your breath.
it’s strange seeing him like this. the same man who had your throat in his hand earlier is now smoothing your hair away from your face like he’s afraid to hurt you.
he notices the way you’re looking at him, a faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“what?” he asks softly.
your voice comes out hoarse. “you’re… different.”
he huffs a quiet laugh at that, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside you.
“yeah,” he admits.
his hand slides behind your head, lifting you slightly so he can pull a pillow under you. the movement is careful, patient. “i get a little carried away sometimes.”
your eyes drift shut for a moment as his fingers brush through your hair.
the rain outside fills the silence.
after a second, you feel the mattress shift again and his arm slides around you, pulling you gently against his chest. the warmth of him seeps through the blanket immediately.
“rest for a bit,” he murmurs near the top of your head.
his voice is low and calm now, almost soothing. your cheek presses against his shoulder, and you can hear the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. one of his hands keeps tracing slow lines along your arm.
“you’re safe here,” he adds quietly. his fingers pause for a moment before he presses a soft kiss to your hair. “i’ve got you.”
tell me which naughty neighbor was ur fav :3 mine was sukuna's!! thx for reading!!!
