Dilf Monster Baby Daddy who thinks you’ve only gotten more attractive since giving birth to his young. He remembers the conception well and thinks of it quite often. How well you took his seed. Your eager womb desperately slurping up every drop, your walls clamping down around his length to milk all you could from him.
It makes him hard every time the memory resurfaces and he can’t stop himself from searching for you to bend you over the nearest surface available and taking you all over again. Whispering dirty memories in your ear and telling you about all the worse things he plans to do with you.
Dilf Monster Baby Daddy who him himself has gotten broader after becoming a father. His kind say it happens when one is happy with their mate. Content. And while he’s not mated with you he is happy. It would make sense his arms and thighs would get thicker, a slight pudge builds at the bottom of his otherwise solid stomach, and he was all around softer and easier to melt into.
And he couldn’t bother to try and be upset about it either. Because after every time he takes your sweet cunt you sag down on top of him and moan ever so softly. Your plush limbs all sprawled over as you nuzzle into him.
It has his cock raging with arousal in a matter of minutes. And you make the cutest little noises of protest when his leaking tip presses back against your entrance. But with a few gentle pleas he has you opening yourself up for him to stretch you on his girth.
Dilf Monster Baby Daddy who doesn’t realize how bad it is that he hasn’t mated you till you’re asking him to take their young for the night on a night meant to be yours. He knows you don’t ask something like this lightly so he can’t help but ask whatever for even though he’s already accepted your request.
When you tell him that you have a date for tonight he feels his entire world come to a stand still. Everything crashing down around him and he can do nothing but stand there and watch it happen. Jaw dropped and eyes widened as you come out of your room in the most gorgeous dress he’s ever seen. Your changed softened body looking more drool-worthy than ever.
Dilf Monster Baby Daddy who snaps himself out of this. No way. He can’t lose you like this and without a fight. But instead of acting rashly and possibly losing you forever he decides to be subtle about it. By showing you just how good of a mate he could he if only you’d choose him to spend forever with.
The next day he refrains from asking how the date went. He doesn’t wanna know or else he may just go feral. It’s much better to focus on how he can take care of you and the child you share together. When you go together for outings he hoists you both into his big arms, muscles rippling as he barely lets either of your little legs touch and the ground. And more than once does he catch your gaze on them.
Dilf Monster Baby Daddy spoils the two of you like never before. He was always generous in how deeply he cherished you both but in the days that pass he really goes above and beyond. Pulling out every stop to show you how good of a mate he could be.
His efforts aren’t in vein either. Every day the three of you spend together he watches from the corner of his eye as you practically eye fuck him. Slobbering over him just as much as you did when you two first met. It has his chest puffing up with pride and hope blooming in his belly. He’s certain that the other man won’t be seen again.
Dilf Monster Baby Daddy is immediately stopped in his tracks when the next week you ask him to take your sweet youngling again because of a hectic change of plans. He almost doesn’t dare to ask this time. Wanting to spend a little longer in disbelief. But the question falls from his lips without permission and your response was as he feared.
You had another date.
Dilf Monster Baby Daddy can’t take this time. Especially when you come out in a dress even better than before. Luckily the youngling is already asleep so he can focus all of his attentions on you and getting it into your thick head who you truly belong with. His claws are out of his control as he pins you against the closest wall and shreds that beautiful dress to pieces.
Your shrieks only turn him on even harder, and your confused stare as you ask him what in the hell he thinks he’s doing. He’s practically leaking a puddle in his boxers because no matter what you can’t hide the fast rise and fall of your chest and your dilated pupils.
Dilf Monster Baby Daddy fucks you against possibly every surface in your room, whispering endless words of praises into your ears and into your skin. Explaining that you’re his and you always have been. No one else will have you so long as he’s around. Worshipping every inch both old and new. Biting at your soft flesh and searing it with his scent. Making sure it’s so strong that both monster and human will know that you’re rightfully and fully taken.
He plays with your body, working it and proving just how deeply he knows you both inside and out. Tweaking at your overly sensitive nipples, grinning wickedly when they bead with milk that doesn’t belong to him.
Still he takes it greedily too. Everything you have to offer he wants it all. And when he moves his hand down your plump frame to roll the even more sensitive bud of nerves between your thick thighs he scoops up every little drop of essence that spills there too and drinks it as if it’s the finest ambrosia.
Dilf Monster Baby Daddy doesn’t stop until you’re a boneless pile of mush. Making you cum over and over again, painting his cock white with your cum. In return he spills every heavy load into your walls, filling you to the brim till it spills out of you and then quickly splashing more into your depths to replace any that got away from leaving.
Leaving you way too fucked out to even think about going on a date with someone else. And even when finished he keeps his already rock hard cock all snug inside you, grinding the hilt of him against your entrance like it isn’t quite close enough. You can’t even think about complaining when he’s all softness and warmth. Not that you would either way.
Dilf Monster Baby Daddy doesn’t know how much his words have taken root in you. While you haven’t thought much about staying with the man who helped you bring a child into this world, the more you think about it the more you like it. In fact, you like it a lot. Realizing that you actually do want to be his and you want him to be yours.
Especially as the next day he continues to be the amazing monster you’ve known for years now. Always attentive and protective of both you and your baby. He keeps you pressed firmly against his side until a sudden gust of wind blows through and your child whines in protest, adorable face scrunching up as if close to crying.
Dilf Monster Baby Daddy briefly releases you from his hold to use the hand not holding them up to fix their scarf. You smile at the scene, melting at the sight of them before your eyes unintentionally wander and you see you’re not the only one affected. A few women ooing and awing at him.
A sudden urge of possessiveness takes over you for the first time, taking you by surprise as you wrap your arm around his waist this time. The other women’s eyes flit over to you, realization sparking before they quickly turn their backs to you in embarrassment. It seems you guys aren’t the only ones surprised as he turns to look at you. His gaze curious and innocent as your child’s, making you melt all over again.
Dilf Monster Baby Daddy asks gently what you’re doing. For a moment you think about lying or brushing it off. But when you meet his eye you can’t hold back in admitting that you’re staking your claim in return. He smiles, nodding as if praising you and then returning the gesture. Fusing you back to his side as you guys go on about your day as a new family.
And while he might’ve claimed you as a mate in the monster way his next move will be to claim you in the human way. Putting a ring on your finger that you’ll never be able to take off.
warnings ᯓ★: age gap (best friend's dad), forbidden attraction/taboo, infidelity (both parents), dead dove, risk of getting caught, vaginal sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, cumplay, marking/bruising/hickeys, light choking, hair pulling, daddy kink undertones, good girl praise, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, emotional guilt & family betrayal, obsession/fixation, black reader, stern/tired!leon kennedy
cw / tw: dead dove do not eat
explicit age gap smut (leon late 30s / young reader), best friend’s dad trope, infidelity/cheating, virginity loss, taboo family betrayal, power imbalance, risk of getting caught, praise kink, rough sex, creampie.
if any of that is a no for you, please scroll past. no judgment, just protecting everyone’s peace. read at your own risk ♡
Description: a slow-burning obsession with your best friend's dad — the ghost who pays the bills, the man who’s never really home, the one whose scent lingers like gun oil and regret. one summer afternoon in a too-thin white dress, everything shifts. stolen glances turn into cracked bathroom doors, family dinners crack open, and the kitchen island becomes the only place left where guilt and hunger finally collide. he calls you baby. you call him leon. nothing’s the same after that.
Mr. kennedy was your best friend's dad and you were already ruined for anyone else long before you admitted it to yourself.
you never knew what he did because he was never fucking there. the porsche cayenne turbo gt would be gone before your sneakers even hit the porch—sometimes still warm in the garage like he'd only just peeled out after another middle-of-the-night call that nobody was allowed to ask about. you'd show up after school and the house would feel too quiet without him, like the air itself was holding its breath waiting for him to come back. he missed lucas's games.
you'd sit in the bleachers scanning the same empty spot where other dads recorded every play, phones up, proud, present. leon's seat stayed empty. always. while he was god knows where doing god knows what, that sleek black cayenne sat untouched in the garage like some expensive apology nobody wanted to accept.
he was barely home when ellane started fucking someone else. you heard the fights leaking through the walls—low, vicious, words like “how long this time?” and “you don’t even care anymore.” you saw the strange car in the driveway at 2 a.m., windows fogged, rocking just enough. you smelled the wrong perfume on the couch cushions the next morning, sweet and cheap and clinging.
but leon was barely home.
always barely.
disappearing for “work trips” that stretched into weeks, coming back quieter each time, eyes older, shoulders heavier, leaving behind a single coffee mug in the sink or the sharp metallic tang of gun oil and exhaust to prove he’d existed there at all.
then one humid summer day you walked over in that white dress. so thin the sun made it almost nothing—soft outline of your bra showing through, bright pink shorts flashing underneath every time the fabric shifted against your thighs.
curls bouncing loose down your back. nails digging crescent moons into your own shoulders because your stomach was already twisting with something you refused to name.
and there he was.
leon kennedy stepping out of the cayenne in full tactical gear, phone still pressed to his ear, sweat-dark hair sticking to his forehead, faint streak of dirt or blood or both along his jaw. he looked like he’d just walked through fire and come out the other side smoking. shoulders rolling under the weight of whatever invisible thing he carried. he shut the door with a soft click. his eyes found you instantly. and stayed.
the hard lines of his face eased—just a fraction, just enough for you to feel it in your chest like a door cracking open. he probably thought you were there for lucas. he tilted his head toward the house. “lucas is inside,” he said, voice low, rough from disuse, but there was this buried thread of kindness in it that made your lashes flutter.
you followed him anyway.
the scent hit you first—gun oil, worn leather, clean sweat, something faintly metallic like blood or cordite that clung to his gear and made your thighs press together without permission. it mixed with the burnt-sugar-char smell drifting from the kitchen—ellane’s latest welcome-home disaster. she always tried. she always failed. he’d eat it anyway. he always did. compliment her like the roast wasn’t charcoal, like the marriage wasn’t ash.
“i’m home—” he called, voice carrying through the hallway lined with perfect family photos from years when he was still around enough to be in them.
ellane rushed him—arms tight around his neck like none of the cheating or screaming had ever happened. you tried to slip past. she grabbed you too, cupped your face with those same hands. you jerked back fast. forced smile. “hi miss ellane—”
smoke curled thicker. “shit, the roast,” she muttered, heels clicking away in a cloud of denial.
leon stood in the entryway peeling gear slow. heavy vest thudding to the floor. holsters unclipped one by one. gloves tugged off scarred, bruised knuckles finger by finger until his hands were bare. “i need a shower,” he said, voice gravel and exhaustion, like the sentence had been sitting in his throat for days.
then he looked at you. really looked. blue eyes catching yours longer than they should have. a small, tired smile pulled at his mouth—the kind that said he was too worn out to hide how much it meant that someone noticed he’d made it back alive. it hit you like a fist to the sternum.
he turned. climbed the stairs. boots heavy on wood. black shirt clinging to the broad plane of his back, faint ridges of scars showing through damp fabric. you stayed rooted, pulse slamming in your ears, kitchen smoke swirling, mind looping that tiny private smile over and over like a song you couldn’t turn off.
soon after, you followed.
white flats creaking. heart knocking. passed the bathroom door—cracked open. steam curling out.
he stood at the sink. not in the shower yet. tactical pants slung dangerously low. belt unbuckled. black shirt half-open. hand wiping a slow streak through the fogged mirror. and there he was—leon. dick hanging heavy even soft between thick thighs. chest mapped with fresh red scratches, older purple bruises, stories carved into skin he’d never share. knuckles white on the sink edge. staring at himself like he didn’t recognize the man looking back.
your breath snagged. eyes wide. then he looked over. blue locked right on yours through the crack.
you stumbled back—flats squeaking—ran to lucas’s room like you hadn’t just seen everything.
lucas was on his bed, ipod on his stomach, headphones in, eyes closed. jumped when you flopped down. “shit—you scared the fuck outta me.” “sorry.” you giggled, dress riding up, pink peeking more than it should. “your dad’s home. your mom’s cooking again.”
he groaned. dropped back. scrolled without looking. “he came in here. tried to talk. i told him to get the fuck out.”
you sat up fast. “and?”
“and i’m done pretending he gives a shit.” bitter smile that didn’t touch his eyes.
you frowned. “hey. you’re being too hard on him.”
he sucked his teeth. rubbed a hand over his stomach—abs flexing, waistband low, boxer briefs showing. “you don’t get it. my whole life he’s been gone. every time he comes back they want me to act normal. like he didn’t miss birthdays, games, everything.”
he got up. walked to the window. stared out like he could escape through the glass. shoulders tense. hands shoved in pockets. same way his dad stood when he was swallowing words.
quiet. only the faint tinny music leaking from the dangling headphone.
“lucas.” you sat up. flats tipping off the bed. “you only get one dad.”
he didn’t turn right away. just stared. jaw tight. fingers flexing. then slow. eyes met yours. sharp. tired. “well i might as well not have one.” shrugged like it didn’t matter. eyes lingered on you a beat too long. waiting for you to argue.
you didn’t know what to say.
downstairs the burnt roast smell thickened. you ended up at the table anyway. across from him.
leon in a plain white t-shirt now—still damp at the collar, fabric stretched tight over chest and shoulders, sleeves hugging biceps, hair pushed back wet. cleaner. no less tired. lines around his eyes deeper in the warm light.
ellane clinked plates too loud. forced smile. “dig in.”
lucas stared at his food. fork unmoving. wouldn’t look up. shoulders hunched. jaw working like he was chewing glass.
leon glanced at him. once. twice. mouth opened. closed. picked up his fork instead.
quiet except silverware scraping. fridge humming.
you caught leon’s eye. just a second. his gaze steady. searching. that same small tired smile flickered—like he remembered you were there. like maybe you were the only one not lying tonight. your stomach flipped so hard you almost gasped.
lucas finally stabbed a piece of roast. eyes stayed down.
“so how was the trip?” ellane’s voice too light.
leon’s grip tightened on the fork. knuckles white. “you know i can’t talk about it.”
“yeah. we know.” lucas rolled his eyes. voice cracked. “what the fuck could you be doing that you miss your son’s birthday?”
leon set fork down slow. breath through nose. “lucas. watch your mouth—”
“no.” lucas gripped his fork harder. hair falling forward. “you don’t get to tell me that."
"look where we live. you have everything—and you get mad at me for working?” mr. kennedy leaned forward, elbows on the table, hands forming a bridge over his lips.
table dead silent. fridge hum. ellane’s glass hitting wood too hard.
lucas shoved chair back. “i’m done.” footsteps pounding upstairs.
ellane stared at her plate. tears welling. leon rubbed his face. exhaled slow.
you couldn’t move. because even in the wreckage all you could think about was following him up those stairs. into whatever dark corner he’d disappear to. letting him see how much you weren’t avoiding him.
“fuck, leon. you do this every time.” ellane stood sharp. plates clattering.
she laughed—short. bitter. “go save the world. we’ll be fine. we always are.”
he looked at her. then at you. voice dropped. “i’ll be back. soon as i can.”
ellane snorted. “that’s what you said last time.”
he stepped away. phone to ear. voice shifting clipped. professional. “yeah, this is kennedy. talk to me.”
kitchen quiet except running water. ellane scrubbing like the plate owed her something.
you stood slow. heart hammering. eyes followed the line of his back disappearing.
ellane glanced over. eyes red. “you can check on lucas. he needs a friend.”
you nodded. feet didn’t move right away. because part of you wanted to chase him instead. slip down the hall. hear his voice low on the phone. watch his free hand rub the back of his neck. feel that pull in your stomach tighten until it hurt.
but you went upstairs.
that night you stayed. lucas cried in your lap—face buried against your thigh, shoulders shaking, quiet sobs muffled into your dress so no one downstairs would hear. parts of him the football team never saw. they saw the captain with the cool dad, cool car, hot mom. never this—curled small, tears soaking thin white fabric, fingers gripping your hip like you were the only anchor left.
you stroked his hair. curls damp from sweat and salt. whispered “it’s okay” even though nothing was. his breathing hitched every time he tried to speak—half-words about missed birthdays, slammed doors, broken promises—then melted back into silence.
you let him cry until his body went heavy, exhausted, until sobs turned to slow even breaths and he finally drifted off against you.
the house was quiet now. ellane passed out on the couch with an empty wine bottle on the coffee table, tv flickering blue light across her face.
leon was gone—slipped out the back door after the call, porsche rumbling away into the night before anyone could say goodbye. maybe he didn’t want one.
you sat there in the dim lamp light, his head still in your lap, weight warm and solid. your dress had ridden up again, pink shorts peeking, but you didn’t fix it. your hand stayed in his hair, thumb tracing slow circles on his scalp like it could erase the hurt.
but your mind wasn’t all on him.
every few minutes your eyes drifted to the hallway, to the closed door of leon’s room down the way. you pictured him coming back—quiet footsteps on the stairs, tactical gear shed somewhere, that white t-shirt clinging again from whatever sweat or rain he’d walked through.
imagined him pausing at lucas’s door, seeing you there holding his son, your legs bare, curls messy from the long night.
imagined his eyes lingering—not on lucas this time but on you. the way they had at dinner—quick but burning. the way his voice dropped when he said your name even if he hadn’t said it out loud yet.
your thighs pressed together under lucas’s cheek, a slow ache building low in your belly. guilt twisted sharp—you were here for your best friend, the one breaking in your arms—but the obsession was louder now. louder than his soft snores, louder than the fridge humming downstairs.
you wanted leon to come home. wanted him to see you like this—soft, caring, loyal. and still want you anyway. wanted him to step into the room, close the door quiet, and look at you the way no one else ever had.
you waited until lucas’s breathing settled deep and steady, his arm still heavy across your waist like he needed you to stay.
you eased out from under him slowly, sliding a pillow beneath his head so he wouldn’t wake, then slipped barefoot from the room, leaving your flats behind by the door.
the hallway was dark and silent, ellane’s faint snores drifting up from the couch downstairs where the tv still flickered blue light across the walls.
you stopped at his mom and dad’s bedroom door, fingers curling around the cool handle, heart pounding hard enough to ache. you pushed it open quietly and stepped inside.
the room smelled mostly of him—gun oil, leather, the sharp clean soap from his quick shower. the bed was still mostly made, he’d only come in after dinner to change, leaving tactical pants slung over the footboard, black shirt crumpled on the floor, white t-shirt folded neat on the dresser next to his keys and charger.
no warmth lingered in the sheets, just his scent hanging in the air like he’d barely been here.
you closed the door with a soft click and stood for a moment, thighs already pressing together, pink shorts damp against your skin. you moved to the bed and sat on his side, fingers tracing the cool fabric where he should have lain. leaning down, you pressed your face into his pillow and inhaled deep—that sharp, masculine smell of him, clean and smoky from whatever hell he’d come back from. your curls spilled forward, brushing your cheeks as you buried deeper.
your hand slipped under the dress slowly, thumb brushing over your clit through the thin fabric, swollen and sensitive from earlier. you pushed your shorts aside, fingers sliding in, rubbing slow tight circles as the pressure built quick and hot.
you pictured him walking in right now, catching you there—legs spread, curls wild against his pillow, fingers buried deep. imagined his blue eyes darkening, stepping closer, dick already hard and heavy as he watched.
“couldn’t wait?” his voice low and rough, hand wrapping around your throat gentle but firm, pulling you up to kiss you hard while his thick calloused fingers replaced yours, stretching you open.
you moaned softly into the pillow to muffle it, hips rocking against your hand, slick sounds filling the quiet room.
you whispered his name. “leon”—barely audible, like a secret slipping out.
orgasm hit fast, thighs shaking as you clenched hard around your fingers, wishing it was him inside you instead. you trembled through it, whole body lit up, then sank back panting, curls fanned across his pillow, skin flushed and glowing in the dim hallway light leaking through the crack.
guilt flickered but faded quick, drowned by the ache that only grew stronger. you lay there a minute longer, breathing his scent.
then you fixed your dress, smoothed your curls, slipped out quietly, and closed the door behind you.
you quietly walked down the stairs, a little thirsty. until you saw the lights move through the blinds. mr. leon was back. and that made you wetter than anything imaginable.
you leaned over the sink, grabbing a glass to fill with water, heart already racing. his keys twisted in the lock, boots echoed heavy through the quiet house, then stopped at the kitchen entryway.
“oh, you’re still here?” he walked in, lights dim from the streetlights outside filtering through the blinds, casting soft stripes across his face. he looked tired—hair damp again, white t-shirt clinging a little from the night air, tactical pants low on his hips like he hadn’t bothered to change yet.
“yes sir, my parents don’t mind me staying.” you raised the cup to your lips slow, taking a sip while your bare feet rubbed together against your ankle. you leaned forward over the kitchen island, dress shifting up just enough to show more thigh, pink shorts peeking underneath. your curls fell forward, brushing your shoulders as you held his gaze.
he nodded faintly, eyes flicking down for a second before coming back up. he placed both hands on the island, leaning in opposite you, close enough that you could smell the faint gun oil and rain on him.
“look—” he bit at his lip, voice low and rough from the long night. “i’m sorry about what happened earlier. you didn’t need to see that.”
you set the glass down soft, fingers lingering on the cool rim. your thighs pressed together under the island, the ache between them sharp and insistent now that he was right there, real, not just a scent in his pillow. you tilted your head a little, curls shifting, and met his eyes steady.
“i didn’t mind,” you said quiet, voice barely above a whisper. “i mean… i saw a lot tonight. and i’m still here.”
his jaw ticked once, blue eyes searching your face like he was trying to read something he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. the kitchen felt smaller, air thicker, the only sound the low hum of the fridge and your own pulse loud in your ears.
he exhaled slow, one hand rubbing the back of his neck—the same way he did when he was stressed or thinking too hard. “you’re a good kid. good to lucas. he needs that.”
you nodded, but your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second, then lower to the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest, outlining every scar and muscle you’d imagined touching. “he does,” you agreed. “but… you’re here now.”
he didn’t move, but his fingers flexed on the island countertop, knuckles whitening just a bit. the space between you felt charged, like one wrong breath would snap it.
“i- i gotta get some sleep.” his voice broke the silence, rough and low, like he was trying to convince himself more than you.
you reached for his hand without thinking, fingers brushing his knuckles soft at first then curling around them. your eyes quivered, lashes wet, lips poked out just a little in that small pout you couldn’t help when you were nervous and wanting all at once.
“mr. leon.”
he froze. completely. breath catching sharp in his chest. his hand stayed under yours, warm calloused skin against your palm, but he didn’t pull away. didn’t step back. just stared down at where you were touching him like the contact burned.
your thumb traced slow over one of his knuckles, feeling the faint scar there, the roughness from years of holding guns and fighting things no one should have to fight. your curls shifted forward as you leaned in closer over the island, voice barely above a whisper.
“you don’t have to go yet.”
his eyes flicked up to yours, blue dark in the dim streetlight stripes, pupils blown wide. he swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing. “this is… we can’t.”
but his fingers flexed again, not to pull free, but to curl just slightly around yours. holding on. like he was fighting every instinct screaming at him to stop and losing the fight anyway.
you stepped around the island slow, bare feet quiet on the tile, until you were right in front of him. close enough that your chest brushed his, dress thin enough he could feel how hard your nipples were through the fabric. you tilted your head up, curls falling back over your shoulders, eyes locked on his.
“please,” you breathed, lips so close to his you could feel the heat from his mouth. “just… stay a minute. with me.”
his free hand came up slow, hesitant, like he was giving himself one last chance to stop. fingers grazed your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. he looked wrecked—tired, guilty, hungry all at once.
“you don’t know what you’re asking,” he murmured, voice gravel thick.
your hand slid up his arm, feeling the muscle tense under your touch. “i do.”
he exhaled shaky, forehead dropping to rest against yours. eyes closed for a second like he was praying for strength he didn’t have. then his hand cupped the back of your neck, fingers threading into your curls, holding you there.
his mouth crashed into yours—rough, desperate, tasting like coffee and regret. tongue sliding in deep, claiming like he’d been starving for it. you moaned soft into him, hands fisting his t-shirt, pulling him closer until there was no more space left.
he lifted you easy onto the island, your ass hitting the cool countertop, legs wrapping around his waist instinctive. his hips pressed forward, hard length straining against his pants right between your thighs. you rocked against him once, twice, whimpering into his mouth as friction hit exactly where you needed.
he broke the kiss gasping, lips on your neck now, teeth grazing soft then biting down light. “fuck… we shouldn’t.”
but his hands were under your dress already, pushing it up, fingers hooking into your pink shorts and tugging them down your thighs. you lifted your hips to help, breath hitching when cool air hit your slick folds.
he groaned low against your skin when he felt how wet you were, fingers sliding through you slow, teasing your clit with rough circles. “been like this all night?”
you nodded frantic, curls bouncing. “since you came back… since dinner… since i saw you in the bathroom…”
his fingers pushed inside you—two thick, stretching you open while his thumb kept working your clit. you cried out soft, head falling back, but his other hand covered your mouth quick.
“quiet, baby. lucas is upstairs. ellane’s right there.”
you nodded against his palm, eyes rolling as he curled his fingers just right, hitting that spot that made your thighs shake. he kissed you again to muffle your moans, tongue deep, hips grinding against his hand like he was fucking you through it.
it built fast—too fast. you clenched around his fingers hard, back arching, coming with a muffled cry into his mouth. he worked you through it slow, drawing it out until you were trembling limp against him.
he pulled his hand free slow, brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, eyes locked on yours the whole time. dark. possessive.
then he stepped back just enough to breathe, forehead against yours again, voice wrecked. “go back upstairs. before i do something we can’t take back.”
but his hands stayed on your thighs, thumbs stroking soft circles, like he couldn’t let go yet.
you touched his face, thumb over his lip. “what if i want you to?”
he closed his eyes, jaw tight.
the kitchen stayed silent except for your heavy breathing and the distant hum of the fridge. upstairs lucas slept. downstairs ellane snored.
and right here, in the dim light, the obsession wasn’t just yours anymore.
“i can’t… we can’t, this was—” he started again, voice cracking low.
you rubbed his face gentle, eyebrows slouched, thumb still tracing his bottom lip. “mr. kennedy, i really want this…”
you leaned against his chest, cheek pressing to the warm cotton of his t-shirt, feeling his heart hammer under your ear. your eyes looked back up at him, soft and pleading, feet dangling off the island edge, toes brushing his calves.
“i really want this. please.”
he bit at his lip hard enough to leave a mark, eyes flicking down to where your dress had bunched around your hips, pink shorts still tugged halfway down your thighs, slick shining on your skin from what he’d just done. he wanted this too—god, he wanted it bad. the way your curls framed your face in the streetlight glow, the way your lips parted when you breathed his name, the way your body fit against his like it belonged there. every inch of him ached to give in.
but he was too respectful to finish. the only job he couldn’t finish.
his hands flexed on your thighs, thumbs still stroking those slow circles, but slower now, like he was trying to talk himself out of it. he exhaled rough through his nose, forehead dropping to rest against yours again.
“baby,” he murmured, voice wrecked and quiet, “you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
you shifted closer, legs tightening around his waist, pulling him in until his hips pressed flush against you again. you could feel him—hard, thick, straining against his pants right where you needed him most. you rocked once, slow, deliberate, and he hissed low, fingers digging into your skin.
“i do know,” you whispered, lips brushing his jaw. “i’ve known since i saw you in the bathroom. since dinner. since you looked at me like that. i want you, mr. kennedy. all of you.”
he groaned soft, almost pained, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your curls. he held you there, not pushing away, not pulling closer—just holding, like he was afraid to move and make the decision real.
“if we do this,” he said, voice barely above a breath, “there’s no going back. lucas… ellane… everything changes.”
you nodded against him, nose brushing his throat. “i know.”
he stayed silent a long beat, thumb stroking the nape of your neck now, the way he might soothe lucas when he was little. then he tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing your eyes to his.
blue met yours—dark, conflicted, burning.
“tell me to stop,” he said one last time, almost begging. “tell me right now and i’ll walk away. i’ll go upstairs, sleep on the couch, pretend this never happened.”
your heart slammed against your ribs. you leaned in instead, lips grazing his, soft at first, then deeper.
“don’t stop,” you breathed into his mouth. “please don’t stop.”
that was it.
his control snapped quiet and clean.
he kissed you hard again, tongue deep, hands shoving your dress up higher. he yanked your shorts the rest of the way off, tossing them somewhere in the dark. his fingers were back between your legs quick—two sliding in deep, curling just right while his thumb circled your clit rougher now, no teasing.
you gasped into his mouth, hips bucking. he swallowed the sound, free hand gripping your ass to hold you steady as he worked you open, prepping you fast because he couldn’t wait anymore.
he broke the kiss long enough to undo his belt with one hand, zipper down, pants shoved low enough. his dick sprang free—heavy, thick, tip already leaking. he stroked himself once, twice, eyes locked on yours.
“last chance,” he rasped.
you wrapped your legs tighter, heels digging into his back. “please fuck me leon.”
he lined up slow, pressing the head against you, stretching you inch by inch. you both groaned low—he from how tight and wet you were, you from how full he made you feel right away. he bottomed out with a shaky breath, hips flush to yours, holding still for a second so you could adjust.
then he moved—slow at first, deep rolls that hit every spot, building steady. your nails dug into his shoulders through his shirt, head falling back as he fucked you on the kitchen island like he’d been starving for it.
“fuck… so good,” he muttered against your neck, teeth grazing your skin. “been thinking about this… shouldn’t have… but i have.”
you whimpered, clenching around him. “me too… every time you looked at me…”
he picked up pace, harder now, the island creaking under you. one hand covered your mouth again to keep you quiet, the other braced on the counter beside you. he watched your face the whole time—eyes half-lidded, lips parted, curls bouncing with every thrust.
those nasty wet sounds louder than the tv downstairs the snores the distant hum of the fridge lucas’s steady breathing upstairs. everything else faded just the slick slide of him inside you the way your body gripped him tight every time he pulled back slow then pushed in deep.
his hand traveled up under your dress cupping one tit rough but careful thumb brushing your nipple until it pebbled hard. he pinched it gentle then firmer rolling it between his fingers making you arch against him a soft whimper slipping out before you could stop it.
he moaned low into your neck lips brushing your skin hot breath fanning over you. “fuck… you feel so fucking good.” his voice gravel thick wrecked from holding back so long. hips rolling steady deep not rushing just savoring every inch every clench.
his eyes rolled back a little as your pussy sucked him in every time he pulled out slow glossy and clinging like it didn’t want to let go. you gripped at his hair fingers tangling in the damp strands and his head tilted just a fraction letting you see his face—eyes half-lidded jaw slack mouth parted in a silent groan.
he watched himself disappear inside you thick shaft stretching you open slick coating him shiny every time he pulled back. “you wanted this… you wanted your best friend’s dad’s dick?” he slowed his hips grinding them in lazy circles letting his fat head drag against every sensitive spot dragging out the cream from your pussy white and messy dripping down your thighs onto the countertop.
“y-yes… it feels so good.” your lips quivered softly and so did your legs wrapped tight around his waist heels digging into his lower back. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the stretch the fullness the overwhelming heat of him but it wasn’t pain it was too much in the best way.
he sucked at your neck hard enough to leave slight bruises blooming under your skin dark little marks you’d have to hide tomorrow. your pussy made those wet obscene sounds every thrust loud in the quiet kitchen louder than the tv downstairs the snores the fridge hum. slick slapping skin on skin the wet slide of him pulling out and pushing back in.
“look at you,” he murmured rough against your throat tongue flicking over the fresh bruise. “taking me so deep… creaming all over my dick.” his hand slid down between you thumb finding your clit rubbing firm slow circles matching the grind of his hips.
you whimpered nails scraping his scalp hips bucking up to meet him needy clumsy. “leon… please… don’t stop.”
you gripped the edge of the island hard knuckles white breathing the pain away trying to relax around him even though every inch still burned sweet and full. “fuuck.” leon groaned into your neck voice breaking rough as he felt you clench again.
he wedged a hand down between you fingers wrapping around the base of his dick slick with your wetness. he pulled out slow the thick head dragging against your walls until it popped free with a wet obscene sound that echoed in the quiet kitchen louder than anything else.
he came right then hot thick ropes spilling across your pussy painting your folds your clit your swollen lips. you looked down watching it drip slow down to your hole some sliding inside on its own some clinging to your skin shiny in the dim streetlight.
his dick twitched jerked against you still hard pulsing leaking the last drops as he stroked himself once twice through the mess.
he laughed low breathless “shit…” almost disbelieving. then he rubbed the head of his dick through the cum smearing it over your clit down your slit pushing it back inside your tight pussy with slow deliberate rolls of his hips. the stretch came again softer this time slicker easier but still so full.
his head tilted back a deep groan escaping his lips eyes squeezed shut like he couldn’t believe how good it felt.
he pulled out again slow this time the wet drag making you both gasp. his dick still hard slick with everything you’d made together he didn’t let you catch your breath just wrapped an arm around your waist and lowered you to the kitchen floor gentle but firm.
your back hit the cool tile first then your shoulders curls fanning out dark against the pale floor like spilled ink. he followed right down kneeling between your thighs mouth already on you kissing hot open-mouthed trails everywhere.
started at your collarbone tongue flicking over the faint bruises he’d left earlier soothing them then sucking fresh ones lower on your chest. lips closed around one nipple teeth grazing light enough to make you arch whimpering soft his hand cupping the other tit thumb circling the peak until it ached sweet.
he kissed down your stomach slow deliberate tasting the sweat the salt the faint sweetness of your skin. paused at your navel dipped his tongue in once making your hips jerk up involuntary.
then lower kissing the soft skin just above your mound fingers spreading your thighs wider so he could see the mess he’d left—cum still dripping slow from your hole mixing with your own wetness shining on your folds.
he groaned low against your inner thigh teeth nipping the tender skin there leaving another small mark. “fuck… look at you leaking me.” his voice rough wrecked breath hot on your pussy. tongue flicked out once catching a drop sliding down your thigh then dragged up slow licking a long stripe through your folds tasting both of you.
you cried out soft hand flying to your mouth to muffle it hips lifting toward his mouth needy. he didn’t tease long just buried his face deeper tongue pushing inside you lapping up the cum he’d pushed in earlier mixing it with your slick sucking gentle on your clit then harder when you started trembling.
his hands gripped your hips holding you down while his mouth worked you open again tongue fucking in and out slow then fast circling your clit with firm pressure until your thighs shook hard around his head.
“leon…” your voice broke high and quiet fingers tangling in his hair pulling him closer.
he hummed against you the vibration sending sparks up your spine then pulled back just enough to look up at you—eyes dark lips shiny chin wet curls of his hair sticking to his forehead.
“come again for me baby,” he murmured voice thick. “right here on the floor where anyone could walk in.”
that thought alone—lucas upstairs ellane downstairs the risk—made you clench hard. he dove back in sucking your clit steady tongue flicking fast until you shattered thighs clamping around his ears back arching off the tile a choked cry muffled into your own arm.
he kept licking soft through the aftershocks drawing it out until you were shaking overstimulated pushing weakly at his head. he kissed his way back up slow gentle now lips brushing every mark he’d made every place he’d tasted.
when he reached your mouth he kissed you deep letting you taste yourself on his tongue mixed with him salty sweet and thick. his dick still hard heavy against your thigh twitching like it wanted back inside right now.
he gently flipped you onto your stomach knees pressing into the cold tile already bruising from the hard floor. his hands slid under your hips lifting your ass up high your back arching pretty your curls spilling forward over your shoulders and onto the floor.
your pussy glistened in the dim light slick and swollen from before cum still leaking slow down your thighs. he squatted over you thighs bracketing yours one hand braced beside your head the other guiding his thick long dick back to your entrance.
he pushed in slow at first the angle brutal stretching you open painfully wide in this position every inch burning deeper than before. you winced sharp breath catching but he cuffed your mouth quick palm firm over your lips muffling the sound while his hips rolled forward forcing another moan out of your lungs straight into his hand.
“shh baby quiet,” he rasped low against your ear breath hot voice wrecked. “take it just like that… good girl.”
he bottomed out with a low groan balls pressed tight against you holding still for a second letting you feel how full he made you how deep he was buried. then he started moving slow deliberate pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in hard enough to make your knees slide forward on the tile.
your hands scrabbled at the floor nails scraping tile trying to hold on as he fucked you steady deep the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the quiet kitchen louder than the tv downstairs the snores the fridge hum. every thrust pushed another moan out of you muffled into his palm tears pricking your eyes from the stretch the fullness the way he hit spots that made your legs shake.
he leaned down chest to your back one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you steady the other still covering your mouth thumb stroking your cheek even as his hips snapped forward rougher now.
“fuck… so tight like this,” he groaned into your neck teeth grazing your skin. “taking me so good… your pretty pussy gripping me like it never wants me to leave.”
you clenched hard at his words back arching deeper ass pushing back to meet him needy clumsy. he rewarded you with a harder thrust balls slapping against you the sound obscene wet.
his hand slid from your mouth to your throat gentle but firm fingers curling just enough to feel your pulse racing. he tilted your head back kissed the corner of your mouth messy then deeper tongue sliding in while he kept fucking you relentless deep.
you came sudden and hard thighs trembling pussy pulsing tight around him milking him as waves rolled through you. he groaned low hips stuttering fucking you through it chasing his own release until he buried deep one last time spilling hot thick inside you again filling you until it leaked out around his cock dripping down your thighs onto the tile.
he stayed inside panting chest heaving against your back you could barely make a noise let alone feel your legs. he leaned off you just enough to breathe dick still buried deep in that tight pulsing pussy not pulling out not even an inch.
“fuck.” his voice ragged broken. “just—just a little more i promise.”
you could barely think anymore brain fuzzy from the overload the stretch the heat of him filling you completely. leon kissed at your neck soft at first then harder lips brushing over the bruises he’d already left sucking a fresh one into the skin below your ear while his hips rolled slow lazy circles keeping himself buried grinding the base of his cock against your clit with every tiny movement.
those little moans escaped your lips high and shaky no matter how hard you tried to swallow them. he groaned low in response the sound vibrating through your back straight to your core.
“i can’t stop…” he muttered almost to himself weight pressing you down harder against the tiles cool floor biting into your knees and palms as he started thrusting again shallow at first then deeper slower drags that made your toes curl and your breath hitch.
“—please—please don’t stop mr. kennedy.” your voice cracked with each beg small desperate broken on every syllable.
he hissed through his teeth hips snapping forward once hard then slowing again torturing you with the drag. “goddamn baby… saying my name like that.” one hand slid up your spine fingers tangling in your curls pulling your head back just enough to kiss you messy over your shoulder tongue sliding in deep while he kept fucking you steady deep the wet slap of skin on skin filling the kitchen louder than anything else.
his other hand reached around found your clit again rubbed firm slow circles matching the rhythm of his thrusts. you clenched hard around him whimpering into his mouth thighs trembling uncontrollably.
“that’s it… squeeze me just like that.” he panted against your lips forehead pressed to the side of your face sweat mixing with yours. “feel how deep i am? how full you are? gonna come again for me… gonna come all over this dick while i fill you up one more time.”
you nodded frantic couldn’t speak just nodded tears slipping down your cheeks from the intensity the pleasure so sharp it almost hurt. he sped up just a fraction hips snapping harder now balls slapping against you every thrust pushing more little moans out of you even with his hand still half-covering your mouth to muffle them.
“come on baby… give it to me.” his voice low wrecked thumb pressing harder on your clit rubbing fast tight circles.
you shattered sudden and hard pussy clamping down on him like a vice thighs shaking violently back arching as you came with a choked sob muffled into his palm waves crashing through you leaving you limp trembling against the tiles.
he groaned deep hips stuttering fucked you through it chasing his own release until he buried himself to the hilt one last time spilling hot thick inside you again pulsing deep filling you until it leaked out around his cock dripping down your thighs onto the floor.
he collapsed over you careful not to crush you chest heaving against your back dick still twitching inside you both of you panting ragged in the quiet kitchen.
after a long minute he kissed the back of your neck soft whispered “you okay baby?” voice hoarse thumb stroking your hip gentle now.
you nodded weak smile shaky curls sticking to your damp face. “yeah… so good.”
he chuckled low breathless eased out slow wincing when you whimpered at the emptiness. helped you roll onto your back pulled you up into his lap on the floor arms wrapped tight around you holding you close while your breathing slowed.
kissed your forehead lingering fingers combing through your messy curls.
“go upstairs now baby.” murmured quiet. “before i drag you back down here.”
you looked up at him eyes glassy lips swollen neck marked. “you’ll come later?”
he nodded thumb tracing your bottom lip. “when it’s safe. promise.”
you stood on trembling legs fixed your dress smoothed your curls feeling the warm drip of him still between your thighs the ache deep sweet and sore.
he watched you go hand over his jaw eyes dark heavy.
Trying to get your hot neighbour's attention gone wrong. | Part-2
(Dilf Suguru Geto, he's really hot, smut, reader is a brat, smut, rough sex, daddy kink, blowjobs, creampies, choking, slapping, angst, porn with plot, mostly crack)
“Oh yeah?” you said, folding your arms across your chest. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
Suguru stared at you for a long moment, looking like a man who had reached the absolute end of his patience. He had probably come here prepared to discuss noise complaints, apartment etiquette, maybe even threaten to call the landlord. What he definitely had not prepared for was his twenty something young neighbour calling him daddy and looking entirely too pleased with herself.
The funny thing was that he was still talking. His mouth was moving. Words were coming out. He was explaining something about his complaints and respecting other tenants and how this had gone on for many days now, but none of it was actually registering. All you could think was that the hot dad next door was finally talking to you. Looking directly at you. Paying attention to you.
Hot!
You were so busy celebrating that fact that you completely missed how much trouble you were actually in.
“Look,” Suguru said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know exactly what you’re doing.” Your eyebrows lifted.
“Oh, now do you?”
“Well, yes?.”
“Then when are we going out?”
The silence that followed was endearing to say the least. His expression completely froze and his jaw went slack. “Excuse me?”
“What?” you asked innocently. “You seem smart. You figured me out. Congratulations. Now what’s next?” A scowl settled onto his face. You had never seen a scowl look that attractive before.
“Are you serious?”
“Very serious, actually”
“No.”
“Wow? May I know why? You married or something?”
This could reallyyyyy not be happening is all Suguru can think about. It was such a small reaction that most people would have missed it, but you caught it immediately.
“I-I-I-”
You immediately mimicked him.
“I-I what?”
His eyes narrowed.
“I…”
“What?” you continued. “Can you answer the question or not? Are you single?”
“I am,” he snapped but your eyes lit up.
“But that’s none of your business.”
“See? That wasn’t hard.”
Suguru looked like he was seconds away from developing a stress headache. “And what?” you continued. “Are you against having fun or something?”
“I’m not having this conversation.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I’m busy! Okay”
“That’s a completely different answer.”
He stared at you fidgeting with a yarn coming out of this bigass black sweatshirt. You stared back. Honestly, if determination was a sport, you would have won an Olympic medal by now but god this guy was being so unreal.
“Are you listening to yourself, mister?” you asked.
“Not really,” he replied dryly. “I can barely hear myself over your loud fucking music.”
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. “Whatever,” he said finally. “I’m done with this conversation. Turn the music down or I’ll have to involve the landlord.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Your student ID. The one you had “accidentally” dropped.
Three separate times.
His hand extended toward you and for one horrifying second your brain completely stopped functioning. You had noticed that Suguru was tall. You had noticed that he had broad shoulders. You had noticed the ridiculously pretty eyes and the unfairly perfect hair.
You had somehow never paid attention to his hands though…
That was apparently a mistake because now you were staring at his big, strong hands- those long and thick fingers, prominent veins decorating his arms up until they vanished in his sleeves.
The sort of hands that immediately made you forget every rational thought you’d ever had. Your gaze lingered a second too long.
A second became two. Then suddenly his fingers snapped in front of your face and you immediately blinked. Suguru looked unimpressed to say the least.
“Please keep it to yourself.”
Your face heated. “I just dropped it by mistake.”
He stared at you again and you stared back. Unfortunately he then he started walking away. Halfway down the hall, he glanced over his shoulder.
“You’ve dropped your ID outside my apartment three times.”
Phewww
You couldn’t even defend yourself. Taking the card from his hand, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and gave him your sweetest smile.
“Well, in my defense…”
Suguru immediately looked suspicious.
“…you’re really hot.”
-
-
-
Suguru closed his eyes like a man who was deeply, profoundly tired. When he opened them again, he looked at you with the expression of someone trying to understand what terrible decision had brought you into his life.
“You’re in university, right?”
“Maybe.”
“Why don’t you go after guys your own age?”
“Huh?”
“They have more energy for this.”
Before you could answer, a voice echoed from down the hallway.
“Dad!” One of his daughters came jogging toward him. Suguru immediately looked relieved to have literally anything else to focus on.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Can she turn the music down now? We have a test tomorrow.”
You immediately felt guilty. But only a little. Suguru glared at you. “It won’t happen again baby”. The confidence with which he said it made you scoff.
One of the girls glanced between the two of you before smiling apologetically. “We’re sorry. Dad’s impossible.”
Suguru immediately pressed a thumb against the space between his brows. “Don’t tell strangers that, baby.”
You grinned. “Hey, Mr. Dad.” He already looked like he regretted turning around.
“You know my age. Twenty-four. Old enough.”
“No.”
“How old are you?”
“No.”
“Come on.” You gasped dramatically. “Oh my God. Are you ancient?”
One of his daughters immediately betrayed him.
“You can check Facebook.”
Your head whipped around. “You use Facebook?” The look on Suguru’s face was priceless. “Youuuu use Facebook?” you repeated. “Oh my God, you are old old.”
“I use it for work, okay- otherwise I use Insta- wait why am I telling you that? You know what? This is it. I’m done”.
The girls were laughing and so were laughing. Suguru looked ready to move apartments but still repeated-
“I do not use Facebook.”
“You definitely look like you do.”
The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Immediately he looked horrified. You burst out laughing and you could see a small smirk forming on his face too.”
“What’s you Instagram @ then?”
“Now WHY would I tell you that?”
“Because we’re bonding.”
“This ain’t how bonding works.”
“Girls. Home.”
His daughters immediately obeyed. Then he pointed at you one final time.
“Music.”
“Ughh…fine!.”
“Thank you.”
Without waiting for another response, Suguru turned around and walked away, disappearing into his apartment before you could say anything else.
The next few days were painfully quiet. You kept your promise and the music stayed off. There were no noise complaints.
And to your immense disappointment, it turned out that life was significantly less entertaining when Suguru wasn’t glaring at you.
So you tried moving on from whatever infatuation this was. You went out. You entertained conversations. You gave chances to perfectly nice boys who approached you at university and bars and cafés.
None of it worked because every single conversation eventually ended with you comparing them to the hot daddy next door. You just needed one night with him, get the answers for your curiosity and move on, simple!
The problem wasn’t older men. The problem was Suguru. The stupidly attractive man with the pretty eyes and ridiculous hair and broad shoulders who somehow occupied every corner of your brain without even trying.
Which was exactly how you ended up sitting in a bar two weeks later, staring into your drink while some other older man attempted to flirt with you.
He wasn’t unattractive. That was the issue. He was perfectly fine and somehow that made it worse. Because all you could think about was how much he wasn’t Suguru.
-
After your third drink, you came to a very unfortunate realization. You did not actually want any of the men in this bar and that was a big problem.
At first you thought maybe you were into older men. That would have been an easy explanation. A little embarrassing, maybe, but easy. Then you spent the entire evening surrounded by older men and discovered that none of them were doing anything for you. Not the businessman buying expensive whiskey. Not the divorced guy attempting to flirt. Not the silver-haired professor-looking man who kept smiling at you from across the room.
None of them were him.
The issue was definitely Suguru. Which was arguably much, much worse.
You stared at your drink and groaned into your hands. This was ridiculous. You had known the man for barely a month. Most of your interactions involved his complaints and him looking exhausted whenever you opened your mouth. Yet somehow every guy in this bar was being measured against him and failing spectacularly.
Your eyes drifted toward your phone. That was a terrible idea. An absolutely horrible idea. You did it anyway. A quick search on Facebook led you to his business page. The profile picture was professional and annoyingly attractive. There was a phone number attached to it.
You stared and then stared some more.
Then pressed call.
The line rang but no one answered. You immediately called again.
Meanwhile, several blocks away, Suguru was sitting at his desk with a pair of glasses balanced on his nose. His laptop screen cast a soft glow across the room while scattered paperwork covered most of the surface. His daughters had gone to bed hours ago, and for the first time all evening, the apartment was quiet enough for him to focus.
Then his phone rang. It was obituary an unknown number so he ignored it. The phone rang again.
Suguru frowned because at nearly midnight, a second call usually meant somebody actually needed something. With a sigh, he picked up.
“Hello?”
There was a pause. Then a familiar voice.
“Hey, hot stuff.”
His eyes immediately closed. No wayyy.
Of course it was you. Before he could say anything, he heard a sniffle and suddenly his irritation disappeared.
“Hey,” you mumbled. “Can you pick me up?”
Suguru sat up straighter. “Hey-Where are you? What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry for calling you.”
“Where are you?”
You gave him the name of the bar. Your voice sounded miserable.
“I don’t like it here.”
“Did somebody bother you?”
“Umm..nooo.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Are you sick?”
“Yeah, I think I might throw up.”
Suguru rubbed a hand over his face. “You drank too much.”
“I drank exactly enough.”
“You sound drunk.”
“You’re so mean to me.” you spat and started sniffling again. He almost laughed.
“Listen to me,” he said carefully. “Do you want me to come get you or should I call you a cab?”
You were quiet for a moment. Then your voice softened.
“No, forget it. I’m sorry I called. I’ll just get a cab.”
Something about how disappointed you sounded made him feel like a dick for saying that. “Okay, wait.”
You immediately perked up. “What?”
“Send me your location.”
“Why are you so bossy?”
“I’m not bossy.”
“You kind of are.”
“I’m trying to figure out where you are.” You huffed dramatically. Through the phone, he could practically picture your expression.
“Just send me the location.”
A few seconds later, his phone buzzed. “There,” you mumbled.
“Good.”
“Are you coming?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Stay where you are.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t move.”
“Okay.”
“Seriously.”
You laughed softly at his concern. “Okay, Daddy.”
The line immediately went silent.
“Goodbye.”
Twenty minutes later, Suguru was pulling into the parking lot. His hair was tied into a quick half-bun, and he had left so fast he was still wearing sweatpants. The bar was exactly where your location claimed it would be.
The only problem was that you weren’t. His jaw tightened. Immediately he called you. You answered on the second ring.
“Hey.”
“Where are you?”
“I waited.”
“Okay-and?.”
“Then I got thirsty.”
Suguru rolled his eyes so hard, damn you were sooooo bratty. “What does that mean?”
“I’m at the gas station.”
“The what?”
“The gas station.”
“Oh my God.”
You giggled. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Share your live location.”
“Oh.”
The message of the live location lighted up Suguru’s screen. Ten minutes later, he finally spotted you sitting outside a convenience store with a bottle of water in your hands.
The second you saw his car, your entire face brightened. Suguru immediately felt some of his irritation disappear. Which was annoying…
You stood up and walked toward him.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
He looked you over carefully. No injuries, no tears, no signs that somebody had bothered you. Just slightly flushed cheeks and embarrassment.
“You okay?”
You nodded and he did too.
“Yeah.”
Suguru opened the passenger door.
“Get in.”
The inside of his car was warm and clean. It smelled faintly like his cologne. The same scent you’d occasionally catch in the hallway. You wanted that shit injected in your veins. Your gaze wandered around.
Comic books, magazines, a couple of toys, and random candy wrappers. Evidence of two children who clearly treated the car as partially theirs.
You noticed a lip gloss sitting in the console. Your heart immediately sank for one irrational second before you looked closer.
It was glittery, bright pink.
Definitely not an older woman’s. You still picked it up to make sure if it was that popular brand that teenagers use. You quietly set it back.
The ride home was silent at until you finally spoke. “You’re not gonna ask questions?”
Suguru kept his eyes on the road. “Do you want me to?”
You looked down at your hands. For the first time all evening, your confidence seemed to disappear.
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“Everything.”
He glanced at you briefly. His irritation seemed to be was gone. Your flirting was gone too. You just looked tired.
“I’ve probably been annoying you.” You emphasised on the “probably”.
“You’ve definitely been annoying me.”
You laughed weakly. “Yeah.”
The car grew quiet again. Then you whispered:
“I really do like you, though.”
Suguru’s hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. Neither of you spoke for several seconds. Finally he sighed.
“I know.”
The answer surprised you. Not because of what he said but because it was the softest he had spoken with you so far. And somehow that hurt a lot more than rejection ever could.
When you both reached your apartment, he went to your kitchen, coming back with a glass of water, Suguru disappeared into the kitchen long enough to rinse it out before returning to your bedroom. By then you were sitting cross-legged on top of the covers, makeup smudged beneath your eyes, looking considerably less like the menace from apartment 4B and considerably more like somebody who had made a series of regrettable decisions.
“You feeling sick?” he asked.
You shook your head.
“Headache?”
“A little.”
Without another word, he pulled open one of the drawers on your nightstand. His eyes landed on a packet of makeup wipes almost immediately.
You blinked. “How did you know those were there?”
“I guessed.”
“That’s creepy.”
“I have two daughters.”
“Still creepy.”
A laugh escaped him. You immediately sat up straighter. “Oh my God.”
“What?” he glanced at you nervously.
“You laughed.”
Suguru rolled his eyes. “Please don’t start and drink your water.”
You obeyed surprisingly fast. Suguru sat down on the edge of the chair near your bed and carefully handed you one of the wipes. When you made absolutely no effort to take it, he sighed.
“Seriously?”
“I’m tired.”
“You need some manners.” he snorted.
“You already told me that.”
Then, with all the patience of a man who had clearly spent years dealing with stubborn people, he helped clean the mascara that had smudged beneath your eyes and handed the wipe to you- “Do the rest by yourself”.
Weirdly enough you were enjoying this kind of quiet that settled after midnight when the world finally stopped demanding things from you and the man who you were intrigued with sat right across you.
You watched him the entire time. The concentration in his expression. The crow feet under his eyes. The loose strands of hair escaping from the small bun he’d thrown together before leaving home. It was a pain how attractive this man really was. A bit intimidating too, but so attractive. All these details somehow that made him even worse for your health and time.
“Where’d you learn all this?” you asked quietly.
“I was married once.”
The answer landed heavier than you expected. Not because it surprised you. Of course there had been someone before, hence the daughters but still. He had a life before you ever moved into this building.
A family, history, memories and all that shit. The realization made ache for him in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy. All you needed was hookup with him once- get dicked down by a man who knew where the clit is actually located.
Suguru noticed your expression immediately like he was not liking wherever your brain seemed to take you. “You okay?”
You looked away. “Yeah.- um No.”
His eyebrows lifted. You laughed softly at yourself.
“See, that’s the problem. I don’t even know why I like you this much.”
Suguru leaned back on his arms. “You barely know me.”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re responsible, a dad of two, 6’3 tall, reallyyyy handsome, you workout, work as a publisher.
He snorted.
“You little stalker.” he looked genuinely horrified and concerned at your stalking skills but that info you gave was just surface level. You could go on and on about the kind of influencer girls he followed, his favourite artists, his favourite books, the gym he goes to and all.
He didn’t answer so you looked down at your hands. “And you came to get me.”
The air in the room felt awkward and chilly. For the first time that evening, Suguru didn’t immediately dismiss what you were saying.
Eventually he sighed. “You called me.”
“So? You could’ve denied” - “I’m not an idiot Y/N, I wasn’t going to leave you stranded.”
The answer was simple, matter-of-fact. It should have been obvious. Yet somehow it made you want him more.
Because kindness from him was infinitely more dangerous than rejection. You smiled weakly.
“You’re making it really hard to get over you.”
Suguru looked at you for a long moment. Then he stood. “You should get some sleep.”
That wasn’t exactly the response you wanted. But it was probably the response you needed. As he reached for the main door, you spoke again.
“Suguru?”
He paused. “Yeah?”
You wanted to say something else but hesitated to get the words out the way you wanted to so you just said “Thank you for coming.”
His expression softened and he gave you a little smile. “Goodnight, trouble.”
Hmm…tomorrow, you’ll think of something else.
Part-3
Series
Taglist: tagging everyone who commented under Part-1 since I decided to make it a series and didn’t want you guys to miss out!
Pairing: Dilf!Satoru Gojo x gn!reader x Dilf!Suguru Geto
Synopsis: you try being sneaky behind your boyfriends' backs. But they're dead set on pampering you.
Good riddance.
You feel like ripping your hair out. The Zoom meeting has been going on for what feels like forever now. You've already told the interviewer everything he needed to know, your educational detaile, your degree, your previous experiences in the work force, and even your living arrangement for whatever fucking reason. So why on earth is he still running his mouth?? The ache in your cheeks from holding that tight smile makes you begin to regret applying for the job in the first place.
"You know you don't have to do this." And you do know,"we take care of you just fine, don't we?" And they do,"please, you stress yourself enough with school. You have enough on your plate already." And you do "Awe baby, just let us take care of you." and you should, but you just wouldn't fucking listen huh?
Your married boyfriends hate to see you like this. Don't get it twisted, they find it endearing the way you just don't seem to be able to sit still, how you just have to be doing something to contribute. But you just love taking it too far, working yourself to the bone, burning yourself out. Something the two middle aged men just can't have. And so, Suguru and Satoru have taken it as their mission to turn you into their spoiled little baby, a tiny little kitty in their palm, ever since they lured you into their marital home with charming smiles and hot meals.
The interviewer's words fade into the background as more and more doubt begins to cloud your mind. Realistically speaking, you really aren't in nee-
"Oh? what do we have here?"
You freeze.
But a pair of strong muscular arms wrap around your own, warming you right back up, you recognize that teasing tilt of tone anywhere. Lost in your own thoughts, you haven't been able to catch Satoru make his way into the room you swear you locked, and pull you into his embrace, your back pushed against hid soft plush chest.
"We talked about this didn't we? I can't believe you would go behind our backs like this? Im so disappointed~"
And usually, you'd laugh, kiss his cheek, tell him to stop being so dramatic, or even play along if he's lucky. But not when you've been caught red-handed, not when you've promised them time and time again that you'd take better care of yourself, and not when you've been pushing this interview around for when they both would be at work, and definitely not with your camera still on.
"U-uh satoru..." Said man responds with a hum against the back of your head in between gentle feather-light kisses.
"I'm uhm...in the middle of something....as you can see"
A second then two pass before he takes his face off of your hair. You can feel his piercing blue gaze burn the back of your head before he bursts into laughter. You shrink and curl back into him further.
"Awh sweets, the audaci-"
"Easy, Satoru. No use in being mean, you know our little angel just can't help it"
Your stomach drops to you ass once you register your other boyfriend (who's also your other boyfriend's husband)'s voice. Satoru rests his chin on your shoulder before pouting childishly.
Once again, your camera is very much still recording.
Suguru is leaning against the frame of the wide open door, a fond little smile on his face. And all hope is thrown to the wind. You may have had a chance at escape with Satoru, but definitely not with his husband. The feeling of hopelessness intensifies when the long haired man stands up straight and makes his way to you with purpose.
Suguru carries himself with the same elegance that caught your eye the first day you've met, a select few gray strands catch the sunlight making his black locks almost seem bejeweled. His hand comes down to ruffle his husband's hair and then to pinch your cheek affectionately before taking your unoccupied side. Effectively adding more fuel to the fire. Your hands fly to hide your flaming hot face, and your men share a look of amusement.
"Aww sweetie, come here." And of course. he wouldn't be Suguru if he didn't jump at the chance to coddle you in his own arms. "i know, i know... all of this work business must be stressing you out to no end," he noses at your temple, then moves to smear a long chast kiss on your cheek.
Maybe it's out of consideration for your rapidly beating heart. Maybe he thinks it's something only you should have the privilege to hear, either why you're thankful the next words came in the form of a whisper againt your cheek.
"But that's why you have us, right? We'll handle everything. You can just be our little one, wouldn't that be nice?"
And you nod, you actually nod. Can you believe that? That's all it took. Being sandwiched between the couple, a few kisses here and there a gentle whisper and you're once again swept off your feet.
"Why do you have to be this waaaayyy..." your muffled whining only serves to endear them, a big hand travels under your shirt to rub soothing circles on your back.
"It's for your own good" Suguru is yet to drop the soft cooing.
"And you do it to yourself!" Satoru is yet to drop the teasing.
You're reminded of two big happy cats when they start rubbing their cheeks on either side of your face, it's pretty impressive how synchronized they can be sometimes, yet again, you suppose it just comes naturally after a decade of marriage.
"..excuse m-" "You're excused!" Satoru quickly shuts your laptop. Effectively interrupting the interviewer, almost out of fear of an impromptu change of mind from your end, you can be quite stubborn, something they're working on correcting as well.
The embarrassment doesn't get a chance to sink in before Suguru scoops you up in his arms, eager to mother you as per usual.
"You've barely eaten anything for breakfast, you must be starving.. our poor baby..."
And your brain is melting again.
Maybe another day of unemployment wouldn't kill you.
summary: you probably shouldn't be stealing glances at your best friend's dad. but you DEFINITELY shouldn't be sitting on a kitchen table with him between your legs.
content: nsfw, 18+, smutty smut smut smut, age gap, dirty talk, fingering, best friend's dad just hits different i'm sorry
author's note: i saw a comment that said declan definitely talks you through it and i couldn't agree more. so here we are!
You sit stirring the cup of tea in front of you in an effort to keep your hands busy. You had found yourself in your best friend’s kitchen on a Saturday night only she wasn’t home. So instead of spending your evening with her, you were now having a cup of tea with her incredibly dreamy father. Although this was a scenario you had dreamt about, you hadn’t come over here expecting to see Declan.
You were here because Taggie had once marveled over the local produce available at the farmer’s market held in town so you grabbed some earlier that morning with the intention of dropping it at the Priory for her. You knew going into town was a bit of a drive for the O’hara’s and you lived a block away from the market, so it was an easy task for you. You showed up at her front door expecting to hand her a bag full of veggies and were instead met by her brutally handsome father.
You hadn’t lived in town long but from the second you and Taggie met there was an unspoken friendship solidified between the two of you. The bond was most likely due to the fact that you were both twenty-something year old girls in a town full of middle-aged married couples. Nonetheless you enjoyed each other’s company. She taught you how to bake blueberry muffins from scratch and you helped her take a step back from her responsibilities and let loose from time to time. It was a win-win.
What Taggie didn’t know was that you and her father had been shamelessly flirting with each other for weeks.
It started with stolen glances at Declan when he would walk around the house shirtless. His broad shoulders and hair covered chest had you in a trance, so much so that it took you a minute to notice when he caught you staring. Wearing a smug expression he threw you a quick wink before walking out of the room, his small chuckle echoed in his absence and you knew you were fucked.
Ever since that day the two of you shared many coy smirks, crude jokes and light brushes of the hands but nothing beyond that. You couldn’t deny how badly you wanted him. You knew it was wrong to think that way about your best friend’s dad. You knew it but you kept thinking about what he would be like in bed. God- you were such a bad friend.
So now you were sitting in the kitchen of the Priory without Taggie. She had failed to mention that she had a job catering one of Valerie Jones’ parties tonight. Of course, when you realized she wasn’t home you offered to leave the groceries and head back home but Declan insisted on you staying for a cup of tea. You joined him in the kitchen watching his large hands fumble with mugs and tea bags and thinking about other places his rough hands would work well. Jesus you couldn’t even let the man perform a simple task without drooling over him. It would have been ridiculous if it weren’t for the way his lips turned up into a cheeky smile knowing you were watching his every move. The smug bastard knew the ways you thought about him and he relished in it.
“Taggie normally tells me when she has a gig.” You state still stirring your tea.
“This came up last minute” Declan stood at the kitchen counter sipping whiskey, he wasn’t much of a tea guy.
“Even I was surprised. She hasn’t been workin’ weekends as much since you’ve come into the picture” He finishes speaking taking another swig of his drink.
“You’ve somehow done the impossible task of gettin’ that girl out of the house and enjoyin’ her life on Saturday nights. I’ll forever be grateful to you for that.” He raises his drink to you causing a small laugh to leave your lips.
“Yeah well, Taggie’s a good time. I don’t think you give her enough credit” You finally stop messing with the spoon in your hand and take a small sip of the tea in front of you.
“While that may be true, I think you help her come out of her shell. You’re just so-“ he stops and just stares at you for a moment like he’s trying to think of the word he wants to say.
“lively.” He finally says.
you smile at the adjective.
“And vibrant and captivating” He abruptly sets his glass on the countertop and begins slowly walking in your direction.
“You’re absolutely stunnin’, you know that?”
You feel your heart begin to race as he comes to stand in front of you.
“I keep tryin’ to push away the way you make me feel.”
“But it’s impossible to ignore when I walk into a room and immediately feel your presence. So bright and mesmerizing.”
You feel frozen by his words. You’ve played out this exact moment in your head every single night but never imagined it would come to fruition. Now Declan is standing just inches away, the tension palpable.
“Not to mention you’re always fuckin' here.” He waves his hands gesturing to the massive home you’ve both found yourself alone in tonight. “Always around remindin’ me of what I can’t have”
The words barely come out of his mouth before you’re on your feet slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. His lips crash onto yours and he wastes no time savoring the taste of your lips. His kiss is hungry and methodical, and you think you might melt.
He breaks away for a split second,
“We shouldn’t” he says breathless but then his lips are back on yours in an instant, showing no signs of stopping.
“Declan. Please” You practically beg him to keep kissing you.
It must be the way you say his name because he throws any restraint he previously had out the window. Picking you up and sitting you on the kitchen table in one swift movement.
His hands find their way up your skirt lightly gripping your thighs, his fingertips drawing lazy circles on your skin just inches away from where you really wanted him to touch you.
He leans in close whispering coarsely in your ear
“I’ve dreamt about this.”
The attention of his lips shifts from a soft whisper to a gentle kiss right below your ear.
“Me too” you admit.
Your voice is breathless as he continues placing kisses down your neck every now and again nipping and suckling at the sensitive skin just beneath your jaw.
“Tell me love, what is it you think about?” He says sending sweet vibrations into the crook of your neck.
“Do you think about me touchin’ ya?”
He runs his hands roughly up and down your thighs pushing your skirt up so that it’s bunched at your hips.
“Do you think about how good I could make you feel hmm?”
The words coming out of his mouth have you all but dripping between your thighs. His hands find the hem of your underwear, playing with the material between his fingertips he tugs them down your legs at a painfully slow pace.
He pulls away so his gaze is on yours. Your foreheads meet as his hands find their way back to your thighs, carefully spreading them open just a bit more.
“I think about it constantly”
He takes his time trailing his fingertips up your inner thighs, so gently that the featherlight touch makes you shiver. The corner of his mouth curls into a smile knowing the effect he has on you.
You almost squeal when you feel his pointer finger circling your entrance. He keeps it there, taunting you with anticipation.
“How your cunt would feel wrapped around my fingers”
He lets his digit sink inside you with the slightest pressure. The gentleness of his touch contradicting his dirty words.
Your eyes fall shut and you let out a soft moan of relief.
The sound of pleasure causes him to add another finger. He curls them in just the right way making you grab at his forearm and whimper his name. He keeps playing at the spot that elicited such a strong response from you causing you to squirm in pleasure.
“God you feel s’good. Your pretty little cunt squeezin’ my fingers like that. Can’t imagine how you’d feel on my cock”
You bite back a groan at his words. If he kept talking to you like this, you might cum in record time.
He picks up the pace of his fingers, moving them at a deliciously perfect rhythm. You squeeze your eyes shut focusing on the pressure building in your abdomen.
“Look at me love, I wanna see ya.” His voice is low and rough.
You open your eyes and it takes everything in you not to come undone at the sight. His curls falling in his face, his jaw slack, and his eyes clouded with lust.
“That’s it, s’pretty for me”
You’re putty in his hands at this point, sitting on his kitchen table, legs spread wide, One of his hands on the back of your neck holding you steady the other inside of you.
As if the carefully arched thrusts of his fingers weren’t enough to push you over the edge, he begins gliding his thumb over your clit. The added sensation makes your body jolt and you fight to keep your eyes open.
His movements work together like a perfectly timed symphony and you find yourself reeling closer to the edge of ecstasy. You moan Declan’s name again, an indulgent praise, and he groans in response. You’re so close, the tension in your body is looking for release causing your thighs to clench around Declan.
The fullness of his fingers inside of you and the constant attention on the bundle of nerves between your legs has you seeing stars. But it’s the filthy words he speaks to you that finally finish the job.
“Atta girl.”
“You’re doing s’good”
“Let go for me”
With those words you feel the tightness in your core come undone and let out one final drawn out sound of pleasure. You’re clenching and dripping and heaving and Declan is just staring. Forehead still resting on yours, breathing heavy, he softly smiles and places a gentle kiss on your lips.
It takes a few moments for you to regain some sort of composure and then you finally speak,
“We’re fucked”
“We are so so so fucked, I can’t believe how fucked we are.” You allow your internal dialogue to spill out.
Declan just chuckles darkly.
“Perhaps we are.” He toys with your skirt still gathered at your hips.
“But if we’re goin’ down we might as well have a little more fun.” Chuckling through his words he picks you up off the table so your legs are wrapped around him and begins carrying you upstairs.
“If you thought I was done with ya love, you are sorely mistaken”
when he approached you and proposed the idea of being his sugar baby, you thought it would be those cliche stories
but those stereotypes were quickly thrown out when he said that he wanted to be the one taking the backshots 💔 telling you that for every orgasm he have, 10 grand (maybe more) would be inserted into your account ❤️
ofc he takes you to lovely dates outside of the bedroom too 🥰
-🌹
Rich. PATHETIC. men. 🗣️
Imaging you're a college student, your studies having drained you of life, you barely get sleep, and not to mention- you're broke, barely getting by, and not to mention, you had student debt too. But one day, you're scrolling through some dating app (that down bad, huh?), and suddenly gotten a match by some guy- it seems you two had a lot in common (or you simply lied), though, he was older- hell, almost old enough to be your dad, but hey? A pull is a pull- at least he was hot.
And after a few dates, you started to like him, though, mostly because on each date, he paid for everything, and I mean everything, which... you did not mind, not at all- hell, you were too scared to even look at the bill, seeing that most of the places you two visited was fancy or expensive at least, so you weren't complaining- it wasn't like you two didn't hit it off, and he was happy enough to pay for all of you expenses.
One day, when you were visiting his penthouse apartment (yeah, he was that rich), and jesus, it made your dorm room look like a cubby, the view was nice too. While you two were drinking a bit, talking and what not- it got quiet, till you heard him ask: "Would- would you mind being my sugar baby?" He asked, making you just pause- god you were a bit scared of him asking this, why else was he spoiling you so much? But god, you were too broke, so pushing your pride away, you agreed.
After a month or so, being his sugar baby, it was... well, smooth, he hasn't asked you to do anything, well, maybe a kiss here and there- and hell, he paid for all of you school debt, so that was a plus, you were allowed to live comfortably again.
That is till one day, when he invited you to his penthouse, it started slow, talking, and then it turned into kissing, which was slow, passionate- till it turned hungry, needy even- this was the moment you dreaded, when you pulled away, trying to subtly telling him that you weren't really the type to take it up the ass, and that you were kind of a virgin in it- to which he simply chuckled, almost laughing out loud "Wait- no, no, no- I don't want to fuck you- I want you to fuck me" When he said that, you could feel some relief leave your body, but then it turned into a bit confusion- he, your sugar daddy, wanted to be fucked? "Look- I get it, I... probably didn't make it much clear, that, I apologize for... you probably thought I was like- this super dominant CEO type or something?" He asked nervously- everything made sense to you now, the way he acted around you, making sure you well and satisfied, staring at your arms, your muscles, each time you wear a tight shirt or tank top- the fact that you only realized now made you feel a bit dumb
"So... will you fuck me?" He asked, bringing you back to the present, the situation finally dawning on you- and like that, you were balls deep inside of him- his hands holding the pillow like a lifeline, your hands gripping his hips oh so tightly as you bounced him back on your cock each time you thrusted inside of him, and god, those moans and groans coming out of his mouth was like a melody- despite him having told you it's been a very long while since he got fucked- he was taking it so well, like he was just made for your cock
His hole was gripping your cock so nicely- much better than the chicks at your college, their cunts pale in comparison of how his walls wrapped so nicely around your cock, "Oh- fuck! I think I'm close, please" He would moan out, his hole gripping your cock even tighter (if that was even possible), moaning each time your cock reached that one spot, that is till you slowed down a bit- wanting to prolong the pleasure just a bit longer, "Oh- fuck, please.... don't edge me now- not now, not when I'm so close" He whined out, pushing his ass back against your hips, trying to get you to fuck him faster again, and after torturing him just a bit longer- you began to fuck him faster again, a moan of delight leaving his lips, gripping his pillow harder as you fucked him into the bed.
Now after all of that, he was spent- he knew sleeping with someone younger would drain him, but god, he was much more drained than he thought he would be- and you weren't even tired... yet at least, you were trying to find your boxers, confused where you threw it, he just reached for his bedside drawer lazily, digging around it till he found what he was looking for "Here... buy something nice for you... you made me cum after all" He mumbled out before just simply throwing his wallet at you, practically limp on the bed
A/N: some short hc's about dilf!satoru :3. I really liked writing this, if you have any wishes, tell me, my recs are open :D. Take care and stay safe. mwah mwah -> m.list
Satoru around early forties and reader mid twenties
✪ Dilf!Satoru who has grown into an older, devastatingly fine man, the kind of man age has only sharpened instead of softened, but whose body now quietly carries the weight of everything Jujutsu Society demanded from him in his youth, the exhaustion settling into his bones on nights when there’s no lover beside him to chase the cold away.
✪ Dilf!Satoru whose fingers are longer and slightly thicker than they used to be, roughened by years of fighting and training, whose shoulders have broadened into something sturdier and more imposing, yet who doesn’t mind the change at all because it makes the way you fit against him feel even more right.
✪ Dilf!Satoru who still wears that infuriatingly boyish grin, the one that makes women stumble over their words and forget their own names, who spends obscene amounts of money on useless luxuries simply because he can and because no one ever taught him what to do with wealth that vast besides waste it.
✪ Dilf!Satoru who, in a rare moment of vulnerability, asks Dilf!Nanami what he should do with his life and his money, and Dilf!Nanami, loyal, and far too used to cleaning up after him- introduces him to you on a blind date arranged through a friend.
✪ Dilf!Satoru who knows he is completely and utterly ruined the moment he sees you sitting there in that elegant restaurant you never imagined you would step foot in, the way you giggle shyly at something he says, the way your eyes look at him not with fear or expectation but with curiosity and warmth.
✪ Dilf!Satoru who initially feels uncomfortable about the age gap, who worries that he is being selfish, that he should know better, but who finds that you make everything feel lighter and easier, understanding both his childish love for sweets and the parts of him that still act like a reckless teenager despite the years. :(
✪ Dilf!Satoru who, without hesitation, pays your university fees in full on an ordinary Thursday afternoon, brushing it off like it’s nothing while your heart races at the gesture, your legs clenching. How embarrassing for you to feel like that in this moment!
✪ Dilf!Satoru whose fists clench when strangers assume you are his daughter, whose annoyance melts into something smug and possessive as he pulls you close and kisses you firmly enough to silence their whispers.
✪ Dilf!Satoru who becomes protective to the point of obsession, whose Six Eyes are always alert and searching for you in every crowded space because the thought of a curse, or anything, touching you without him knowing makes his chest tighten with fear. He just cares for you so much :(
✪ Dilf!Satoru who loves taking you shopping and buying everything from your carefully curated Pinterest wishlist, who flies you across oceans just to see the countries you once mentioned in passing, who thrills at the way you smile when he spoils you because, selfishly, he loves knowing he can give you the world. It turns him spending his money for your liking
✪ Dilf!Satoru who praises you endlessly for your hard work at university, who waits up for you with warm meals and insists on long, comforting movie nights when you’re overwhelmed, who supports your independence even as he quietly aches to keep you close.
✪ Dilf!Satoru who realizes one day that it was never about the empty bed or the money sitting untouched in his accounts, but about you-about the way you see him as a man instead of a weapon, about the way you make him feel chosen rather than needed.
✪ Dilf!Satoru who cries during your arguments when you tell him to stop spending so much on you because you love him for who he is and not what he can provide, who drops to his knees not out of weakness but out of emotion as you kiss his tears away and whisper sweet nothings against his skin.
✪ Dilf!Satoru who holds your hips tightly as if afraid you might slip through his fingers, who stayed when others left, who celebrated every tiny milestone in your life because loving you made him softer in ways he never thought possible.
✪ Dilf!Satoru who is now secretly searching the world for the perfect ring, visiting jewelers in cities you once said you wanted to see, because for the first time in his long life, he just wants to be yours, and for you to be his, forever.
