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☆. warnings - 2.7k. pwp, fem reader, lowercase intended, black coded, husband!gojo, mechanicneighbor!getou, stalking, voyeur, birthday sex, intoxication, handjob, choking, finger sucking, oral ꒰ f ! ꒱ biting, minors aren't welcomed ! comments & reblogs are appreciated. ☆. mocha's note .ᐟ. . . i'm . . . in love with this lmaooo.
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day, night, or midnight. his eyes are always on you. the new neighbor on the street who caught your attention the moment he stepped out of his all black chevy camaro. coming over and greeting him with a slice of chocolate cake and warm smiles from you and your husband. he found you enticing, the man introducing himself as getou, dauntingly sleek midnight hair cascading down his back, eyeing the veins in his arm he stretched out to give your husband a firm hand shake. he towers over you making you feel small, swallowing every time he side-eyed you while talking to your husband. every day he greets you with a wave of his rough hand and a smile. he's usually always wearing dark jeans and a white tank that's painted with dirt from his hands since he fixes cars daily. he's no stalker, but he can't grasp this fixation on you. once he becomes obsessed with something, he has to have it. no matter the consequences.
it's shameful the way you reciprocate your actions, coming over to offer him something to eat, laughing too hard at something he says that's not even funny, biting your lip, losing yourself in impure thoughts without your husband in sight. it's like your cheating, but you aren't, not necessarily. getou doesn't give two fucks who you're with, he wants what he wants. he's fond of your generosity even though it's obvious you picture his face between your legs every now and then. he loves to ask how your day is going, listening well to anything you had to say.
he's fresh out of college. found a new home in this quiet neighborhood far away from his family to dissociate from the drama. he sells cars left to right, always seeing him talk with new people in his driveway every week, a new vehicle parked each time. he's even sold a motorcycle to your husband, gojo, unable to stop glaring at the polished monstrosity. getou's laugh was deep, almost scary as he witnessed your terrified expression when gojo wrote him a check. you remember him touching your shoulder, leaning down by your ear, instantly making your entire demeanor shift as you hugged yourself tightly, his minty breath grazing your skin as he consoled you, telling you everything would be okay, and that he's sure gojo wouldn't be reckless with it.
