#bridgerton!nanami

[fushitoru]

all this debate abt bridgerton!gojo being a virgin or not but let’s make one thing CLEAR. my man bridgerton!nanami has NEVER visited any dubious establishments and bridgerton!nanami reader will NOT be getting no sloppy seconds 🗣️🗣️🗣️

[shoot1ngst4r]

going out of your way to search up [insert character] ANGST and all you get is smut

[shegetsburned]

❝ a man of honor ❞ w. kento nanami 𝜗𝜚.

BRIDGERTON AU⌇

• — dearest reader. this author finds herself bearing the most curious of news, for it isn’t without surprise that the viscount nanami has caused ruckus amongst the young ladies of the ton, upon his arrival. gracing us with his presence, he has not yet announced himself eligible for this social season and, i believe, does not intend to do so. but doesn’t love find itself in the most peculiar of places when one least expects it? • — a/n. let’s just say that bridgerton has, yet again, a hold on me, also, i am in no way an historian nor a perfect writer but i do hope y’all can enjoy this different little piece.

.nsfw.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who, despite himself, had found the need to return to london for a matter of affair and is set on departing as unbothered by the social season as he was when he first arrived.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who has never taken his social standing lightly and knows he’ll be the object of many desires considering his status as a seven and twenty years old unmarried man. described as a man of honour, suited for the finest lady, but buried in his work and duties.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who attends most balls, making quick appearances here and there and avoiding hungry mamas at all costs, partially hiding in the gardens or engaging in business conversations with other suitors, always eager to return to his chamber. that was until he found the most beautiful excuse to not participate in any courting competition and declare himself ineligible to the ton. you.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who had found you hiding in the very same place he was, that night. a very debutante, who didn’t feel yet a need to marry. you had approached him in need of advice, not in need of a husband. you knew who he was but had no intention nor expectation for any kind of courteous exchange. you just wanted to know how he was successfully avoiding many of his greatest admirers without breaking a sweat.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who did not give much thought to the both of you talking at first, it was easy and the conversation never felt forced. you did feel like a breath of fresh air. you had attracted attention amongst the men of ton quite easily with your gorgeous smile and attentive gaze, which kento had immediately noticed but when you felt like he was really listening to the words you uttered, you became quite acquainted to the viscount’s presence.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami whom you had invited for dinner with your family and was confirmed to be quite the gentleman everyone said he was. well, at least, that’s how he appeared before your family. from across the table, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. the way you parted your lips to eat or placed your mouth so carefully around the gorgeous glass to drink hypnotized him. your warm smile and laughter were music to his ears, therefore most of his attention was directed towards you.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami whose thoughts becomes dreams in a matter of weeks. your body draws itself in his head. every time you graze his shoulder with yours, his heart flutters. he’s almost ashamed to admit that he’d rather sleep than awaken alone in his bed when he’s been having the most indecent dreams about the gorgeous debutante he’s unable to have. your words resonate in his sleep until they become pleads and moans he wishes to hear.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who despite his title, his honor and even his words, became aware of the fact that he wanted much more than being friends with you. although he didn’t want to burden you with his occupied life, he couldn’t help but boil when one curious man came to your encounter, asking for a dance. you weren’t a fool and quickly noticed the viscount’s name written all over your dancing card moments later. you did wonder how it would look to the eyes of everyone else, but he surely didn’t care.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who has privatized your company not only by dancing with you all night during the ball but also by inviting you to his estate in london. it wasn’t long before you realized how occupied he was but also how he tried his best to escape your chaperone and have you all to himself in his bureau.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who loathes the thought of not having you close to him. he had offered no ring nor promises, yet here he was, teaching everything your mama hadn’t. taking away every ounce of purity you once displayed to every other eligible suitor with his careful hands. you could still feel his lips along your neck and his hold around your waist hours after the act.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who truly believes he is a man of honour, even with your legs parted for his hand to explore your most sensitive places with your naked back against the walls of the library of his estate. the sound you make, he wished no other men to hear when it graced his ears, hurrying his movements and developing the most intense of needs. he trailed your back ever so gently to detach and remove your gown with such delicacy it made your whole body shudder.

˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who, despite engaging in such shameful activities, roams around you, just as before. having eyes only for you and ignoring every little distraction that came his way. the rest of the ton surely did wonder how the most anticipated pairing of the season will officially come to be. many questions lingers in one’s mind when two individuals such as yourselves spend so much time together. had he purposely made you wait to attract the other suitors’ attention and find you as desirable as he did? had he already compromised your integrity and claimed you for himself in secret? he did fancy himself the gentleman, so why hadn’t the big question been asked already?

surely, you did know it wouldn’t be the last time you’d be able to call him "my lord" and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time he’d be able to look at you in the eyes and call you his lady.

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[connorsui]

"Is he a green flag?"

"No... he's a whole forest, a preserved sanctuary so rich and alive, the kind that sways with the whispers of the wind. So, lush and deep that the scent of the earth rises to meet you, grounding you in its quiet strength. You can almost feel the pulse of nature beneath your feet, hear the song of life in every leaf, every breath of air filled with the memory of rain, growth, and endless renewal.

He's not just a green flag .. he's the husband I need"

The man: Xavier, Zayne, Halsin, Astarion, Higuruma, Nanami Kento, Levi Ackerman, Johnny "Soap" Mactavish, Erwin Smith, Sylus, Peter Parker, Gojo Satoru, Dick Grayson, Captain John Price, Colin Bridgerton, Leon Kennedy, Jaehaerys Targaryen, Hajime Umemiya, Simon Riley

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you, you x Nanami, Satoru Gojo x some hoes

♔ Warnings: Heavy, heavy fucking angst, jealousy, smacking, cunnilingus, fingering, loss of virginity, toxic attraction, Gojo is toxic, reader is toxic. OOC. SO MUCH TENSION. Say hello to Mr. Nanami again. Split POV. SLOW BURN remember that.

♔ Word count this chap: 12.2k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Slow burn, enemies to lovers. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you - Don't read this if you want a nice Gojo lol.

Comments/ reblogs always appreciated 🥰

Part Six- Masterlist - Playlist

Part Seven- Like a Black Hole

Satoru’s POV

That night

Satoru stomps away from your door, hating the sounds of your sobs, they break him so, tears annoyingly cloying to his own white lashes. He brushes them back as he furiously turns then, clinging to the banister, trying to catch a breath. He’d just had you in his arms, fuck! He just had your lips on his, he just watched your beautiful face as he made you cum, him, Satoru, not…

Not the other man in your heart.

Satoru thought for one moment he could have you, he could truly have you, fuck it’s so maddening, how much he wants you, how he still tastes that honeyed arousal all over his tongue, can still smell how sweet you are, can still feel that soft, silky skin on his fingers. You’ve sank into him, so much so it’s impossible to think of anything else but you.

He had only even invited them earlier in the morning because you’d hurt him so fucking much, looking at him with that cold, icy look. ‘You’ll never be any of my firsts.’ You’d said it so coldly, and you were right, he wasn’t any of them, not a single fucking one, aside from your horrible first kiss, a kiss he’d barely brushed those lips, avoiding pressing too much, because even then…

Even then he’d wanted you.

That first night, when he’d left you so hurt, so broken with his cruelty, and he’d seen you in that chemise, those stockings covering those perfect legs, your nipples pressed against that silk… even then he’d craved you. But he couldn’t fall for it, no he had to hurt you, had to make you hate him, and he wished he didn't succeed so damn well.

Satoru feels so stupid, so stupid, god he just wants to hold you!? Hold someone, and fuck if he hadn’t done that in so goddamn long, not since her, not since Adelia. The goddamn doppelganger of you, the woman who ruined him, she was the last to elicit such feelings, but the difference was…

He wants you more, fuck kissing you was better than anything he’d ever felt, and pleasing you had him so close he almost came right in that carriage just drinking up that wetness. When your eyes looked at him in those gardens earlier, when he started to see what your mother had done to you, what he had inadvertently made worse, the pain he’d wrought, it killed him.

Those eyes that glittered under that soft moonlight, that looked at him with such desire in that dark carriage, and fuck when he carried you in, it made him think, that wedding night, when he refused to. Fuck why couldn’t he carry you, why did he do this, make it to where he’s begging to taste his own wife, begging for anything from you, so pathetic, you make him desperate just existing.

Where he’d thought he could fuck women and forget you, even when they all pale in comparison, he can’t stomach it tonight. He knows you��ll run off to that man tomorrow, fuck you’ll probably lose your innocence to him, he would not care, he would not care if he had to be second, if he had to beg for just some of your affection. He would still do it, because nothing felt as good as you.

If he could have just stayed away.

How can he stay away from you though?

He had you, in his arms, hands on your backside as he pressed you against the wall, and fuck it took everything not to fuck you there, you were so close to just being his if even for tonight. Until his previous actions, filled with pettiness and hurt, came back to haunt him, and he worries now he can never fix this, fix this goddamn mess he caused himself.

How was Satoru to know he’d fucking fall for the woman he wanted to hate so bad? How would he know he cannot hate you, not one bit, because all you’ve done is stay strong and brilliant no matter the horrible shit he threw at you so fucking casually, how you got a mouth right back, how your back was so fucking straight as you threw your knives back at him.

How you so easily found someone clearly enamored, how could you not, just look at you, the most beautiful creature he’d seen, yet he’d told you that you were unattractive, passable, average. You’d take all those hits and it clearly broke you, though you didn’t show it, he could tell when your face fell, when he felt your shoulders shake with sobs.

He was horrible.

Was he any better than his piece of shit father? He certainly was not good enough for you, and if he had any care whatsoever for you, he would tell you to go be with that man, he’d leave you be. He’s allow you some happiness, but Satoru is selfish, fuck he’s selfish, to try to drag you into his black hole, to make you suffocate with his anger, with his words, with his falsehoods.

You deserved to be happy, you deserved to bake cookies and have some man fawn over you, fuck you deserved the world, and all he’s given you is suffering. For one moment he thought something could change, be repaired, when he’d held your hand under that tablecloth, when he’d finally done one decent thing for you, a pathetic, paltry thing.

It wasn’t enough, of course, but he thought briefly how beautiful it felt, to live in the lie of being in love with each other, to be together truly, not to live this… what was this exactly? What was it that Satoru Gojo, the Duke, had brought upon both of you? This sadness, this sorrow, this anger, it was all of his doing.

Even when you’d seen Satoru fingering that maid in those gardens on your damn wedding day, even when he ignored you during that ceremony, you genuinely tried to be with him at your wedding night. You’d brushed that hair until it was shimmering, you’d had color on your cheeks and lips, clearly done by your Nan. You’d worn the most beautiful, sexy little thing, and he’d told you lies boldly.

He’d heard your sobs when he left that night, he pictured you, so small and helpless, so devastated, and he’d thought ‘good’ because crisis averted, you hated him, and he’d never fall in love. But then he couldn’t stop craving you, the more you pushed him away, the more you ignored him, he couldn’t help but want your words, your touch, even if it was a smack in his face, a curse word.

You consumed him before, but it worsens with every interaction, especially when he could be so sweet with you, just for that beautiful moment, when he could tell you how pretty you are, truly. When he could drink in your beautiful soul, that is what sets you so apart from any woman he’d known, that kindness in your soul to a creature like him who could never deserve it.

You’d covered for him, you’d forgiven him for some of his actions, how could you forgive him, how could you? Don’t you realize he doesn’t deserve it, even if he craves it, even if he needs it, but you opened to him, he watched you open, even though he knows you’re so scared to, and you should be, because what does he do, but disappoint you, time and again.

He stomps down the stairs of his manor, feeling it so cold and empty before you got here, and now you bring so much to it, he even loves sitting with you at breakfast, he’d not tell you so. He’d like it even more if you ate, like he’d forced you to this morning, a paltry attempt at righting things, when he just causes more and more anguish, this time unwillingly.

Satoru hates himself.

“You!” Satoru first heads to the butler, who is serving these two women more of Satoru’s champagne. “That’s it, you can find employment elsewhere. Read the room, goddammit man.”

“Your grace!”

“No, stay the night, and I’ll have a stipend for you ready with recommendations, you’re lucky you’ll even get that. After this, I never want to see your face again.” The butler leaves quickly, Satoru wanted to be much more cruel, but he knew the man had family, so his stipend would be generous.

But fuck that insolent butler.

The girls look at Satoru, smiling curiously, infuriating him worse. You’re so much more beautiful, so much more class in you, even when you’re being a wanton little whore, you out class and out shine everyone. How could he even stomach another woman now that he’s felt you cumming, now that he’s drank you?

“And you two, leave.”

The girls stop giggling then, looking at each other, then at Satoru, curiously. “Whatever do you mean, Satoru? Clearly… she’s not even here! She ran away like a little-”

“Do not speak of her.” He says through gritted teeth, yanking their glasses of wine out of their hands. “You have no right to speak about a Duchess, not either of you, not one word.”

“She’s clearly upstairs now, why ruin the fun?” Lady Elaine says, and Satoru’s mistress scowls.

“Because he wants her, he speaks of her-”

“Yes I want her, why the fuck wouldn’t I!?” He says then, so tired of this annoying, insecure and cloying mistress. She starts to sniffle, tears down her face. “Jesus, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of nicely for the month, so you can find another man to do so. Bloody hell you’re annoying.”

“It’s not just that, Satoru-”

“Don’t call me by my first name.” He says then, through his teeth. “I’ll ready a carriage for both of you.”

“Duke Gojo…” Lady Elaine says softly, and he rolls his blue eyes, looking at her seriously. “You do know she was with a man that night?”

“Yes I damn well know, and I was fucking you.” His - former? - mistress pouts again, lip trembling, so goddamn annoying.

“Yes, but you’re a Duke, and a man. Surely-”

“You’re married, Lady Elaine. Want you husband to know I fucked you on your hands and knees last night, my seed spilt all over your backside?” Satoru asks then, with a white brow shot up, and she gasps, sputtering. “Didn’t think so. Do not speak ill of my wife.”

“Your wife!? You both don’t even-”

“Enough. Get your things.” Satoru stomps off, asking his attendant to ready a carriage to take these annoying women home, even though he knows it matters naught, that you’re already done with him right now. He still can’t touch them, can’t look upon them, can’t hear their words about you, wrought from jealousy.

But he’d said worse things.

How can he call you a whore when you do what he’s pushed you to, when if he’d just been the smallest bit kind, you’d have been under him instead? When you both clearly had the most intense connection he’d ever felt, when he lost himself in your pretty eyes, when he lost himself in your kisses.

So now, the Duke Gojo, lies in his cold, empty bed, staring up at the ceiling, painted with intricate angels that he studies, when the angel he wants to study cries in the room next to him. The candles on his nightstands cast flickering shadows across the room, and he feels his coldness, he shivers, aching for a body he’d never held.

Satoru wasn’t a man that cried, not after what she’d done to him, he’d made sure to stop any emotions from that point, to become a cold version of himself. Even his best friends, Shoko and Suguru, had not been as close to him, had noticed his change, long before you, they just did not realize the depth of his cruelty. You have been punished for just looking the way you do.

Prettier than any angel on his ceiling, which blur through his intense emotions, as his heart thuds in his chest, as it feels like someone is squeezing it like a vise. The tears stream down his cheeks, unnoticed by anyone but himself, as he thinks of your rejection, your pain, and the chasm he’s created between you two, the one he thought he could repair just by pleasing you.

He’s such a fucking fool, even then, you’d asked him to explain, you were going to give him a chance, but how could he express it, express his pain and inadvertently his stupidity. How could he ever hope to build something or repair something he himself destroyed before it ever started? Satoru has never felt so helpless, so lost, this wound of seeing you like this hurts more than her cheating on him.

So Satoru cries quietly, not wanting anyone to hear his weakness, his sorrow. It’s a stark contrast to the man he’s always portrayed to the world, to you, this cold, unfeeling man. No, for you he burns, fuck he yearns for you every moment he breathes, every second his heart beats, and now he feels you slip through the fingers you should have never been in.

You have cracked his mask somehow, you’ve seen who he truly is, even if for that one beautiful moment, or who he was before her. That terrifies him because now he knows he’s not immune to love, no matter how much he closed himself off, no matter how much he threw himself into pleasure, he’s not immune to the pain, and it’s a worse pain than he’s ever felt, the aching in his heart for you.

He thought he knew what love was with her, with Adelia. Fuck even her name makes him sick, even her teary eyes as he paid her an enormous amount to leave the country and never come back. As she’d pleaded her damn way, trying to convince him it was his father’s fault, and sure it was, but he’d walked right in on her, riding his damn father and moaning, laughing about Satoru.

His dad had brushed it off with a cruel laugh, he’d always made sure to have several mistresses around, and Satoru watched his mother endure, watching the pain in her eyes, as he knew his mother fell in love with his dad. And he always wondered how she had, but now he saw it, now he knew.

Satoru had become like the person he hates the most in this world, he parades mistresses right in front of you, fuck even his father had kept his actions to the bed chamber, not right in the open. Satoru left that door open for you to see, for it to hurt you, so you’d never try to know him, so that you’d hate him, even his piece of shit father had more class.

How did you kiss him, after he did this to you? How could you even look at Satoru Gojo, were you that much of an angel? Were you that kind hearted, to the point of being foolish… you are foolish to have kissed him back, to have let him touch you, to have cried out his name.

‘Satoru, Satoru!’

Fuck.

He slams a hand over his face, feeling the cold air blow through the windows, he should shut it but he just cannot, he cannot move, he’d like to freeze to death, he’d like to let you be free of him. Maybe he should actually give you that annulment now, let you live your happy life, it’s what you deserve, you don’t deserve him, his cruelty, his confusion.

But he’s too selfish.

He’s always been good at pushing people away, but you’ve stuck now, like a thorn in his side that’s burrowed deep into his heart, despite his best efforts of keeping you so far. Just one look from your eyes, just one brush of his big hand on your waist, over those corsets you wear so tight, fuck he wants to rip them off you, see you fully, completely, not in bits and pieces, the full picture of you.

Has that man seen you fully?

Satoru is sure he had, fuck he saw your breasts first, as you had so blatantly said, coming home with marks and smirking at him, Satoru had made even you act cruel, and he did deserve your cruelty. He did not deserve the slightest kindness, and even now he will not even open up, because he doesn’t know where to start, it’s no excuse for his treatment of you, an innocent young lady with a heart too kind.

The bed feels like a prison, the silk sheets a mockery of the warmth and comfort he craves, the warmth of your delicate body, one that drives him to insanity. He’s been so lost in his own despair for so long, now he feels so much regret for hurting the one person he’s grown to need so desperately.

Duke Gojo is a mess for you, for a woman he does not deserve, and likely ruined any chance of ever having. 

You’ve tried to ignore him, to push him away, but he can’t bear it, he would never let you, even though he should, not when he constantly needs to feel your skin, taste your tears as he kisses you, tears he brings. He was truly cruel, more cruel than anyone he can fathom, not allowing you to breathe without him invading your space.

It takes everything not to keep begging to come into your room, to not just unlock that goddamn door, he has the keys, and kiss his apologies all over your body. To make you feel so good maybe you could forget, for just a moment, the endless anguish he has brought on you. But he knows it’s wrong, he knows all of this is wrong, he knows it’s likely too late for stupid, pathetic apologies.

He knows you’re in your room, just as he’s in his, both of you suffering in your own silent hell, one of his making. Misery, for what, when he could have had happiness, happiness with you, but because you looked like Adelia he treated you like he would her, no worse than he had her. And what had you done, but be a bright and hopeful bride?

He remembers hating you as you both courted, but he held it in check, thinking surely he had time to marry anyone, but the family bonds pushed and pushed you. God forbid a woman becomes of age and a parent doesn’t throw them to the wolves, and thrown to this wolf you have been, not even knowing what sex was, not even knowing your body’s reactions.

But fuck if Satoru did not want to know every inch of your body, fuck if he wouldn’t just lick you every day and nothing in return, if only you would stay in his arms. And this is what he feared, to be so desperate, to be so pathetic, but pushing you away had not prevented it, not one bit, not when you were designed so perfectly, not when your beauty made his heart falter.

Not when he wanted to know you, truly know you, what made you tick, what made you laugh, what made you cry. Aside from him. He laughs bitterly, turning to his side and hugging the pillow tightly, resting his face on it, imagining himself holding you instead. What would it be like to have you in his arms, not writhing and trying to fight him, but to…

To sleep next to you.

Eventually, the tears slow to a stop, and his eyelids grow heavy. He’s exhausted from the emotional turmoil, the fight with his own desires and the pain of his reality. As he drifts towards unconsciousness, he’s vaguely aware of light footsteps outside his door, so he shuts his eyes, white lashes fluttering, his lips parted as he exhales, feeling your presence.

He keeps his breathing even, pretending to sleep, not wanting to face you, not like this, he hopes you cannot tell he’s cried. When you enter the room, he can smell your sweet scent, like cherries in the sunlight, it’s unreal how sweet you always smell, he could find you anywhere.

He imagines how the candlelight must be illuminating your features just so, imagines if your own eyes are red and puffy from your own tears. You’ve come to check on him, and he can feel the compassion radiating from you, despite everything, despite the fact you should feel nothing.

Your kindness as you close the window, clearly sensing it’s a chilled night, it’s something he does not deserve. And when you exhale, bending low, he feels the softness of your strands of hair against his bare skin. God, he wants to pull you down for a kiss, to capture those full, pretty lips on his own. God even your hair smells so good, as you blow out his candle, engulfing you both in darkness.

When you pull that blanket over him, so caringly, it’s like a knife twisting in his gut, the guilt of what he’s done not just to such a sweet human being, but to a woman he’s feeling things for. Conflicting, intense, terrifying things, and now he knows that all the pushing away just caused you both pain, yet here you are.

Why do you care?

All Satoru is, is this monster, a despicable monster in the dark that’s ruined everything, ruined you fucking life, as you tuck him in, as you tentatively brush his snowy white hair back with careful fingers. For a moment, he considers reaching out to you, pulling you into his arms, but he stops himself.

He doesn’t deserve your comfort, not after what he’s done, he deserves nothing but suffering, not your caresses, not your kisses, and maybe you would fall for him if he did pull you close, maybe you’d melt like you do. Against your will, just as his feelings are for you, as both of you fight the one thing that feels so natural, like breathing, yet breathing is so difficult without you.

Without you near Satoru feels empty, but how can he expect you to fill a void you have no clue of? How can he even expect you now, as he lies there, feigning sleep, and you’re brushing your sweet fingers down one of his high cheekbones. He feels your touch, your gaze on him, the warmth of your presence in his chilly room, in his freezing cold heart.

This is more than he deserves, getting to drink you in, after he’d heard you sob in that room, after he watched the crestfallen look on your face, and all he could do was beg for you, be pathetic. As his dad told him so often when he was younger, ‘Satoru, you’re just pathetic, look at you’ and then he’d made that so true.

But you deserve better than Satoru Gojo’s long standing issues, his anger that was directed at you.

Why are you here!?

With a sigh, you quietly leave the room now, the door clicking shut behind you. Satoru’s eyes remain closed, his heart feeling like it’s been shattered into a million pieces, the emotion stuck in his throat as he clings to that pillow, snug and warm under the blanket you’d draped over him, picturing your beautiful face.

He needed to fucking make this right, you don’t deserve this, even if you chose another man. Satoru can’t change the past, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to make up for it, to see if he could make you happy, to see if he could stop fucking everything up so royally.

But for now, he’s just a man in his bed, a man who’s lost the one thing he never knew he wanted, the one thing he never knew could make him feel so alive and so destroyed all at once.

You.

And so, he lies there, his thoughts racing, until finally, sleep claims him, the first real rest he’s had in what feels like an eternity, brought on by your sweet caresses. But, even in his dreams, you’re there, your sad eyes looking at him with a mix of anger and disappointment. He wishes he could apologize, could explain, could do anything to take it all back.

Where would Satoru Gojo begin?

But all he can do is sleep for now, and those dreams of kissing you, begging for you, as you run off with another man, with that blond man with rough hands, and he’s just sobbing, on his knees. You look at him kindly, and tell him you have no hatred for him, just merely no love, before you dance away, flitting like a pretty little butterfly, as he reaches out, grasping air.

Would this be his fate, constantly wishing that he’d not ruined something, ran it into the fucking ground before he began, only to watch you happy, finally, so far away from him? It would leave him alone, with these endless women, drowning in their moans and alcohol, struggling to forget you, something he chose, Satoru chose all of this.

How could Satoru even breathe if you’re not here?

Your POV

“Where are you going?” Satoru asks the next morning, your neck is sore from tossing and turning, you’re exhausted from the lack of sleep, as you stand in your light blue day dress and bonnet. Satoru is sitting at the white grand piano in the drawing room, pecking keys with his long fingers, in a melancholy tune.

You have to admit it’s quite beautiful however, as he peers up at you, and hits those keys harder and harder, in a crescendo as he towers those notes down, lower and lower. His hands cross each other as he peers right at you, with those stormy blue eyes, and you feel yourself tense as you remember last night, when you’d been in his arms, against the wall.

Fuck he’d made you feel so insane, like an all consuming madness, and then you realized it before it was too late, that you were a fool. You’d been willing to give this man everything and all he’d given you was some pleasure, some attention, were you truly so pathetic that it only took that? Were you so keen to excuse the endless insults, the endless parade of women?

The endless torture this beautiful man who plays the piano so expertly, as he’d played you, it’s as if you’re fading off listening to it.

“I’m off to take a walk to town, it’s been so long. Hello, Satoru.” You coo at your puppy, who is running in circles around your feet, and you’re giggling at his cute expressions as he plays. Duke Gojo is staring seriously at you, his jaw clenched, his lips together tightly, studying you so carefully. “What are your plans, Duke?”

“My plans?” He laughs hoarsely, coming up then, the note ending in a high pitched screech as he walks toward you, drinking you in with that azure gaze, as if he remembered everywhere he kissed.

You are a horrible person.

You are such a fucking fool.

If Satoru Gojo just touches you a certain way, you melt in his arms, you are just like putty, ready to be molded for one of his whims. And how can you be so apt to do so!? How do you have no self control with this man, you, who has had so much control her entire life, you, who has always been the picture perfect lady, but now you do not know yourself.

“My plans are worrying where you’ll be.” His husky voice breaks you out of your reverie, as he tilts your chin up with two fingers, as his vulnerable words and looks threaten to ruin you.

“Why worry about me?” You whisper back, and he sighs, leaning down, forcing you to step back, making him glare.

“Why worry? Did last night mean nothing to you!?” You laugh then, harshly and without humor.

“Of course I thought it meant something, but it did not to you!”

“Yes it did! You have no idea-”

“Duke Gojo, stop this, just stop this game. You’ve gotten my hatred, you said you never wanted to lay with me, you get that as well. You get everything you initially asked for, why can’t you leave me alone?” You demand then, tears threatening, your chest heaving with shallow breaths, throat so tight.

He grabs your shoulders with his huge, warm hands, as you shiver from the coldness of your soul. “Because it’s not true, it’s not true at all. How could I not want you!?”

“You can’t just say that. And it matters naught, so what if you want my body finally, you do not even know me.” He blinks then, brows drawing together, his snowy long lashes low over his eyes.

“I know you very well. Did you forget?” He’s caressing up the sides of your breasts now, and you tremble, shaking your head.

“Not my body, me. Do you know a single thing, do you care to? Just because you… find my body attractive, at least I’m assuming…”

“Your body is fucking gorgeous. I want to see all of it.” He’s pulling you against him now, and you shake your head, trying to ease out of his grip.

“You don’t know me. You won’t open up to me. You don’t care about anything, and you hated me until you decided you want to what, fuck me first? Claim me? It means nothing.”

“Then stay, then stay and let me try to get to know you. Please.” You want to, fuck you want to, but you can’t fold so easily for this man, for this cruel monster, even if for once he’s kind, you cannot trust him. The man that had so coldly ruined you the first night, the night of your wedding.

How could you forget?

Sobbing on that goddamn floor, then him being so nasty, flaunting Catherine, fucking a random woman on the table, telling you not to exist!? His nasty demeanor, his cruel words, and you could still see yourself making love to him, letting his insane passion consume you both. The borderline of hatred and passion that threatens to destroy you from the inside out.

“You made your choice for us before you even knew me.” You say softly then, as tears fall down your face, and you watch him visibly gulp.

“Please, it can’t be too late. Please.”

“Then tell me, give me something! Fuck, anything Satoru!” You shove at him, and he shuts down, right in front of your eyes, driving you fucking crazy. You sigh, shaking your head. “You shut me out, and expect me to open up? That’s such bullshit.”

“Just don’t go, I’ll do anything, don’t see him.”

“And you-”

“I sent them home! Immediately. For good.” He says, and you gasp at that, blinking rapidly, your heart thrumming in your chest.

“You… immediately?” You ask then, as he confirms what you wondered at before.

Satoru nods then, cupping your face, and you hate what his touch does, not just physically… but emotionally. You crave comfort in the man that brought you all of this pain, as you shut your eyes, mentally steeling yourself for what you’d have to do. To turn him down, when everything in your body craves him, because you just can’t keep going on like this.

“One right thing changes nothing.” You say softly, and watch him be crushed, watch you crush him with your words. You don’t want to say this, you want to believe him, forgive him, kiss him… fuck you want to be that fake couple you all were, to believe the dream, but you’re not that stupid.

“So I can’t ever earn your forgiveness?” He asks softly, and you sigh, looking away then.

“I’ll forgive you, I already have forgiven some things… but it changes nothing. We will not be together soon, and we both can move on from this.”

His face hardens, his grip tight on you. “From ‘this’ What, torture of having to be with me?”

“Yes!” You snap then, turning away and taking several breaths. “Now I have to ruin the happiness I have, because I was a fucking idiot for you.”

He follows you to the door, slamming it now, pressing against your body, his hard body consuming your small one, hands gripping your waist, burning you, everything Satoru Gojo did burned you. You burn for his touch, for his kisses, even if you fucking hate him, even if you hate yourself for it. He’s shooting desire hot through you as his breath against your neck makes you shiver.

“I’ll do anything, let me pleasure you again? Please.” He’s begging, the man who said he’d never want you, gripping you between your thighs over your layers, and you’re whimpering against your will.

“We cannot.” You whisper, making him sigh, kissing against your neck, rubbing against your heat, having you dripping in moments. “We must not. We will not be together, it’s what you wanted.”

“I didn’t know what I wanted.” You exhale, head falling back, as he constantly pulls you to him, like some moth to his flame, as you ache to feel him, as you feel him slowly wrecking your psyche, in this endless push and pull, that will only end in you being crushed. “I’d die to feel you again. Anything you want I’ll do.”

Fuck.

“You won’t open up, you won’t… explain… fuck.” Satoru’s kissing hungrily on your neck, as your hand press against the door, and you’re throbbing around nothing, fuck it would feel so good to let him. You suck in a breath, shake your head, steeling yourself. “I’m seeing him.”

“Please, don’t, I can’t stand it. Please.” His desperation nearly gets you, Satoru could stab you, make you bleed, then whine in your ear and you’d forgive him, you’re so stupid for this toxic man. You hate your body’s reactions, you hate your heart faltering for him.

“I have to tell him what I’ve done.”

“What, let your husband make you cum harder than you ever have?” His words against your ear threaten to destroy your resolve, until you turn around, shoving him back, ignoring the shrunken pupils, making his eyes look insane. Ignoring those glossy lips and his beautiful face.

“It’s not right. None of this is.”

“How is it not right? It’s what we’re supposed to be doing. Fuck, more… if you’d just let me show you, I could make you feel even better-”

“It’s just physical, that’s it, some… reaction.” You take several breaths, as you watch Satoru’s face fall. “It will likely ruin my only happiness, what we did, so you’ll see me sad and depressed again. But not for long, because I can’t wait to annul this marriage, to be free of you.”

He blinks back emotions of his own, and your heart shatters at the glossiness in his eyes. “Give me a fucking chance first!”

“You do not care for me, not one bit! You do not love me. You just want my body, that’s not enough Satoru.”

“As if he doesn’t just want your body.”

“You’re wrong. I suggest you invite those ladies back over, because you’ll not have me in your bed. I can’t fucking take that sort of pain, I was so stupid last night, thank god they came.”

Satoru slams his hand on the door by the side of your head, glaring down at you now. “Fuck that! You know that’s-”

“Let me go.” You say then, through gritted teeth, and he rakes a hand through his white hair, sputtering.

“So there’s just no fucking chance at you?” He says then, and you turn away, hand on the door knob, shoulders shaking as you hold in your sobs. “Answer me, insolent fucking brat.”

You say nothing, walking out the doors then, leaving his devastated face that you can’t stand to see, ignoring his protests as you go to devastate another man with your stupid actions.

“Darling!” Nanami Kento answers the door to his apartments with a grin, but when he sees your serious face, it falters, then his blond brows draw together, that strong jaw tightening. “Is something wrong?”

“Can we talk, Kento?” You ask softly, and you watch him gulp, nodding tersely, letting you in and shutting the door behind you both. Your heart is racing in your chest, stomach feeling so sick, as you think of what you’ll have to say.

“What’s wrong? Did I cross a line last time?” He says, and your heart hurts so badly you damn near can’t breathe, clutching your chest as he stands in front of you, and you feel the walls closing in, dreading hurting him.

“No, not at all. Not one bit. No, you are… Kento, I…”

“Do you need to sit?”

“I… n-no, I should say this and then get out of your sight, surely.” Kento frowns in confusion, a line forming as his brow knits in concern.

“Nothing would make me want you out of my sight.” He whispers, and you shut your eyes as he’s deftly holding your arms in his rough, warm grip.

“I was intimate with Duke Gojo.” He blinks then, gasping, his lips falling apart as he steps back, and you feel like collapsing under your stupid actions, hugging yourself as you watch his face fall.

“You were what with him? What do you mean!?” He chokes out the words, and you take a breath for courage.

“He pleasured me. As you have.” He turns then, raking a hand through his blonde hair, scoffing. “I have wronged you, severely-”

“You let him touch you? Why would you, I don’t fucking understand, the man that said you’re a pig, the one that fucks women in front of you? The man that had you afraid to eat a goddamn cookie?” He is speaking through his teeth, glaring then, and you shrink back, tears welling up in your eyes, as you feel disgusted at yourself.

“I’m so sorry, Kento. I had to tell you, it wouldn’t be right if I continued on, and you had no knowledge.”

“I… what… you… why…”

“I wanted to thank you.” You’re sniffling, tears rushing hot down your cheeks as you watch the pain on his features. “For making me feel so special, for listening to me, for being… so many of my firsts. I am only sorry you met me, that you got hurt by me, please forget about me. Please live your life, and find someone worthy, so that I will be just a bad memory.”

His mouth opens, brows raised, as you cover your face, sobbing into them, turning away then and stumbling to the door. “Where are you going?”

“To leave, so you can forget me. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me.”

“And you’ll be with him?”

“No. I’ll get an annulment, for I cannot go on with him. But it matters naught, it’s no longer something you should worry for. I deserve no kindness.” You choke on a cry then, hand on the knob, but his stops over yours, making you shiver, as he cups your face then, tilting your head. He swipes your tears softly, further breaking your heart, that you’re such a fucking fool.

“Are you running away, Duchess?” He whispers, and you look at him in confusion.

“You cannot want to look upon me. Did you not hear what I’ve done!?”

“You did something with your husband. I expected you to have already been intimate with him, it was surprising when you were not. Did you not think I knew such a role as a… the other man… would not entail that? I’m more surprised you let someone so terrible touch you. Please come talk.”

You gasp, turning a bit towards him. “You do not need to help me with the annulment, with anything. I’m horrible! Don’t you see!?”

“You are not horrible.” You laugh without humor, as you look at his tired, sweet hazel eyes, that are way too fucking kind.

“I am! I let him, I did, don’t you understand I was disloyal?”

“So what, you wanted to feel desired by the man who made you feel so terrible? It’s an entire trauma response. You can’t blame yourself.” He’s caressing your face, and you can’t stand it, can’t stand what you’ve done.

“You’re being too nice! You should hate me!” You shove at his hard chest then, as you struggle more and more to breathe, hands numb, so numb you have to shake them, and he frowns at you, lines in his cheeks deepening.

“Hate you? How could I hate you? You came to tell me, you clearly care for our relationship. I knew this was a possibility. You think I don’t want you now?”

“How can you! How can you!? Nanami…. Fuck I can’t… fuck…” You’re gasping for breath, your throat so tight, like something is sitting on your chest, you nearly collapse, and Nanami holds you then, as you cannot speak.

“Darling, what’s wrong? Please, sit. What can I do?” How can he be so kind to you, you don’t deserve it, any of it. You’re the awful woman who almost laid with Gojo, after everything. You open your mouth to speak, but now you’re feeling fuzzy, as you can’t get a breath. “What can I do!?”

“As-as-”

“Asthma?” He asks gruffly, and you barely manage a nod, as you are seeing black spots, as you’re fading. He rushes off then, coming back with hot black coffee steaming in one of his ceramic cups. “Here, please, drink.”

You gratefully put your lips to the rim of the cup, sipping and then coughing into your hand, so embarrassing, but he urges you to drink again, as you cough up more and more, air flowing finally to your lungs. He continues to feed you sips, deftly unlacing your corset with his free hand, rubbing your back, as you start to come to, with greedy breaths.

You take a deep one, tears dripping off your lashes as you look at him, at his exhale of relief. “Fuck, you terrified me. Are you okay?”

“Thank you… how did you…”

“My nephew has it as well. I should have noticed sooner, you always rub your throat here.” His thumbs brush against your throat, and you swallow nervously, overwhelmed, starting to get upset again, but Nanami is brushing your hair back gently, sighing. “You do not need to get that upset, it makes it so much worse.”

“How can I not be upset that I wronged a man like you!? I hate myself, I hate myself so much!” You’re sobbing holding your hands to your face now, and Nanami gently takes them down, tilting your chin up, and you slowly try to come to, breasts heaving up and down.

“Do not say such things. I do not hate you.” He says softly, his voice breaking in the middle, eyes glimmering with his own emotions, Nanami was always so calm, so collected, but now…

“I hate me enough for you too. Your life would be better if you never met me, if I never-” He slams his lips on yours then, hands gripping your wrists tightly, and you sink into him, into the kiss, before yanking away. “I don’t deserve your kisses! I don’t deserve any attention from you!”

“Will you let me decide what you deserve?” He whispers, pulling you closer, until you’re flush against his chest. “I wish you did not hate yourself, because I feel quite the opposite. I love so much about you, your smile, how you are so different from other nobles, you’re so humble, so sweet. I love your laugh, and how comfortable your presence is.”

“Nanami, you can’t like me. You can’t.” You sniffle more, and he’s got an arm wrapped around your waist, making you feel so safe, so loved almost, when you don’t feel you deserve it. You watch him sigh, as he kisses your forehead, and your eyelashes flutter shut. “You cannot be fine with this, you deserve someone you can have fully, not in pieces!”

“I’d take pieces of you over any whole person.” You kiss him back fervently now, straddling his lap, as your tears flow down your face, and he’s kissing them, his hands ripping off your corset then, shocking you for a moment as you catch a breath.

“Why do you care? Why do you want me?” You ask, through your tears, and he cups your face, gazing at you so seriously, as you feel him hard against you.

“Why wouldn’t I want you? I ache for you, you’re all I can think of, wishing you were here, with me, not with him. Not being destroyed, to the point of hating yourself. Wishing to see that light in those eyes, that girl I met.” You sniffle again, teeth clenching, hands gripping in his hair, as you both taste each other’s breaths.

“She’s dead and gone, Kento.” You whisper brokenly, and he shakes his head, pulling you even closer, so close you can’t breathe.

“She is not, she is right here.” Kento’s hands slide up your stocking clad thighs, pulling you firmer on him. “You will not let this ruin you. I will only leave this if you do not… want me.”

“Kento, how could I not!? How could anyone not want you!”

“I say the same to you. Can you not see what I do?” He kisses you again, and you exhale against his lips, as your tongues meet, as he’s undressing you right on his living room floor, as you’re fervently unbuttoning his shirt, kissing down his chest, his hot skin, earning his sexy soft moans. “Darling… you’re upset. I must stop.”

“Yes I’m upset, I’m upset I hurt you.” You say hoarsely, running your hands down every hard muscle. “I’m upset I was an idiot. A whore.”

“You are no whore.” He says angrily, and you shake your head.

“Oh, I’ve become one lately. Look at me? What I’ve done, hurting you-”

“Let me decide what I can and cannot take.”

“Then take me.” He pauses, at your insanely bold words, as your pulse pounds so hard you can feel it thrumming your whole body like a beat of a drum. “If you want me, take me.”

“If I want you? You speak so foolishly at times, as if you have no clue your effects, as if I haven’t dreamed of this.” You’re in his arms now, as he easily carries you to his bed, kissing you over and over, taking off the remnants of your dress, slipping his fingers down your slit, watching you arch up, gasping. “The nights where I dream of tasting you again.”

“But I…”

“I care not what happened.” Kento’s hot lips trail down your stomach, as his mouth finds you, and it’s harder than he’d gone before, desperate strokes of a skilled tongue, his thick fingers stretching your entrance, and you’re clinging to him, screaming out and shaking.

“Kento! Mmm!” You’re so close, as he pumps those fingers in and out, as he looks up at you, flicking the tip of his tongue on your clit, watching you as you cum, as you lose yourself in him, in his affection, in his care, and you yank on him, pulling him up. “Please, please, please.”

“What you do to me…” He slides up you, fully naked, as you reach down to his thick length, but he halts you, grabbing your wrist, pinning it above your head, studying you. “You must be sure, I do not want you to regret this.”

You take more breaths, as your addled mind runs everywhere, as you see the man that could love you, that cares, so much he forgives your foolishness, then as you shut your eyes, you see Satoru Gojo’s brilliant blue eyes. The sadness in them, the mystery, the coldness, just yesterday you’d been with him, so close to losing your virginity.

“We can stop. I can pleasure you more, sweet girl.” Nanami says, and you look up at him, as he cups your face, as his blond hair falls over his brow just so, a man that is open, that cares, that has not faltered. A man that just made you cum, who you just adore, and now you feel his hot length on your inner thigh. You raise your hips, biting your lower lip, and watching his eyes shut as he moans.

“I want you to be my first, Nanami Kento. You.” You say then, and gasp when he reaches down, rubbing the tip of his cock against you, and he tenses, the hand bracing himself entangling in your hair.

“I only have so much willpower, I will not deny my Darling what she asks.” You melt, smiling up at him, and he smiles just a bit, leaning down, his weight heavy on you. “Just always be honest with me. Will you promise?”

“I promise, I swear, I will be honest.”

“Even if it… hurts me.”

You choke up again, caressing his handsome face with a free hand. “Even if it hurts, I swear.”

“And this may hurt for a moment. Will you forgive me?” You nod then, gasping in shock and pain when his thick length presses inside your eager little entrance, breaking that little barrier so deep, and he pauses, groaning, resting his head on yours as you’re crying in pain. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Please, give it a moment.”

You feel the burn, as Nanami reaches down, grabbing one of your thighs, pressing in deeper, you feel every emotion known to man as you realize what you’re doing, and that Satoru will hate you. As you feel too full, far too full, so stretched as he pulls back, then presses in again, your teeth clenching from the pain. Nanami looks at you, worry and pleasure mixing on his face.

“You’re too tiny, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You feel so perfect.”

Perfect, huh?

“Please, let me…” Nanami finds your clit, as he kisses down your throat, and you’re staring at his ceiling, hating yourself, hating all that you feel, and wanting to forget it all. You feel him sucking on your throat, right where Satoru had, as you grow wetter under his ministrations, as you feel him sinking deeper, and it starts to hurt less just a bit.

You hate yourself as he moans, as he looks down lovingly at you, concern in his gaze, as he eases back, then slides in again, and you gasp, as it starts to feel good, clinging to his waist. He’s exhaling, kissing you softly, releasing your clit to grab your breasts, to kiss on them, to gently suck a nipple into his mouth. He rolls his hips just so, hitting a spot deep that feels good.

“Ah! Mmm… I… that feels…” He smiles just a bit, pressing kisses on your lush breasts, sliding one hand to cup your face. “Feels… good.”

“I want you to feel good, sweet girl. I want to feel your perfect little pussy tighten around me.” His husky words, along with the motions of his hips, start to work you up, as your body accommodates, as you stretch around his cock, and get wetter. “You’re so beautiful, darling, you feel so good.”

You melt under his praise, as he now pumps into you, more steady, so deep you feel him completely, as he sinks fully in, moaning and cupping your face with both his hands, eyes looking into yours as he works his hips. Nanami Kento is gently making love to you, touching you everywhere he can, kissing your body everywhere he can, as you fall more into it, into the feelings.

The pressure in your tummy.

The slickness of your pussy.

The trembling of your thighs around his hips.

The way he looks at you.

“Darling… darling let me feel you, let me feel you cum on me.” He says softly, urging you, pressing your thighs up and hitting deeper, making your toes curl, your eyes roll back, as he moves quicker. “Please, let me feel you, my love. Please.”

My love.

You blink a bit, eyes focusing, as your hands pull on his hips, as you feel your body rising higher and higher, like when he pleasures you, but more intensely. “Kento, I think I’m-”

“I feel it, let go love, let go.” He whispers, and you do let go, shattering and cumming around him, and he groans loudly, stilling inside of you, as he watches your face, sighing, his eyes flitting back and forth. “Oh, you’re so beautiful.”

“Kento…” You blink away tears, and he kisses you once more.

“I’m close, darling, you’re too tight, too perfect. Can you cum once more?” He asks softly, and you nod, gasping out when he fucks you harder, tip dragging against that same spot, and you cum again, getting so wet, as he pulls out, huffing, stroking his cock now.

Soon stringy white ropes are spread on your belly, and you’re trembling, overwhelmed by what just occurred. You blanch when you notice blood, leaning up the bed and gasping, for Nanami to shake his head, running his free hand up and down your shoulder.

“Darling, it’s normal the first time. Are you all right?” He asks, so concerned, and your world closes in on you.

You’ll just hurt him more!

You just did this, you just lay with a man, who is not your husband, a man you were so sure would hate you, would never want you again. You can’t quite comprehend what even has happened. Nanami is cleaning you, holding you tightly to him, stroking your hair, and you want to sink into his embrace, but you’re so confused, so disoriented, you just take a few breaths.

“Did I hurt you? Please, speak to me.” His concern makes your tummy flip, makes you feel so sick almost as it sinks in.

“It hurt at first, but then it felt really good.” He exhales, squeezing your body tight against him.

“Oh I’m so relieved, I was so worried I hurt you.” You shake your head, and he tilts your chin up, looking down at you. “Darling, thank you for this, for trusting me with something so precious.”

You smile tremulously, as you run your hands through his hair. “Thank you for being so careful with me.”

“Was I? I worry I went too rough.”

“No, you always make me feel precious.” He kisses your cheeks, as you come down, as you collect yourself, and your reality sets in.

“I’m falling in love with you.” You gasp, mouth wide open, tilting your head back to stare incredulously, seeing his cheeks flush. “You need not say it back, I know you are conflicted, I know you’re so hurt from him still. But I needed you to know, I would have never taken your innocence if I did not feel that way, if I did not feel so much love in my heart.”

Your heart breaks, and you can’t stop the onslaught of fresh tears, fuck how many times have you cried today? As you realize his feelings are deeper than you knew, and you have feelings too but you’re so confused, so overwhelmed by Satoru Gojo, and his feverish effects. You cannot make heads to tails your feelings, you cannot put anything together properly.

“Darling it’s fine, I just had to let you know. How badly I wish I could hold you all night long.” You bury your face against him as he soothes you, as he rocks you, as you feel so different, as you’re sore, as your heart is being pulled into so many directions you think it will combust.

“I wish you could hold me all night.” You say, and he kisses you once more, swiping those tears. “I do not deserve you.”

“You deserve much more than you think. You deserve to be happy.”

Happy.

What was happy?

Was it being in Nanami’s arms, in these brief moments of reprieve? Was it baking cookies, was it his sweet kisses, was it feeling loved, was it hearing Nanami Kento is falling in love? Why then, do you feel so fucking sad, as you think of what Satoru will say, how he will feel. Why do you care, when he fucked how many women!? Why do you care!

Why is he in your goddamn head? As you’ve made love to another man, as Nanami took all your firsts, and as he’s whispering sweet encouragement in your ear, as he helps you dress. As Nanami is kissing you over and over, and your body is so sensitive, as you try to make any sense of anything.

“I have news of the annulment, fuck I got distracted.” You giggle a bit, softly, blushing, and Nanami grins. “There it is, a little laugh for me.”

“Oh, Kento…” You lean up, kissing his chin, as you both sway as if to dance alone in Nanami’s quiet, warm living room, imagining a world where this was your home, how would that feel? “You forgiving me, it makes no sense, but I am glad that you did. I would miss you so dearly.”

“And I would miss you. He has agreed to meet next week, will you be able to do so? Are you ready to try to leave?” You nod then, even as this sinking feeling pulls, you shove it far, far away. You and Satoru were toxic, you hated each other, you were horrible, you both cheated on each other, then hurt each other, and others.

It must end before it begins.

“I wish I could take you back to my room, hold you all night… I wish you didn’t have to go…”

“Nanami, this is what I meant, you’re hurt.”

“I am stronger than you seem to think. I told you, you’re worth any pain.”

“I don’t want you in pain.” You sigh, kissing him over and over, soft and sweet little pecks, and Nanami finally lets you go, brushing your hair back.

“The pleasure of being in your company, of being inside you-” Your breath catches, as he’s whispering in your ear. “Eclipses any pain.”

You sigh, snuggling against him. “Kento, you’re too good for this world.”

“Nonsense. Please be safe, please see me soon. I count the moments until our next meeting, before you even leave.” You both hold hands, and you smile shyly, as you step out into the evening air. “Are you fine to walk, it’s getting dark.”

“I am fine, it’s not far. Good night Kento.”

“Good night darling.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk away, as you are trembling, as the world crashes on you, as you realize you entangle an even larger web than before, as you realize it’s all going to end up with everyone hurt.

You still hate yourself, even if Nanami thinks he loves you.

You walk in the manor, and see Satoru there, at the dinner table, sipping on a drink, looking at you, at first hopeful, then analyzing, his eyes everywhere, and he stands, gripping the glass so hard it shatters into a million tiny pieces. You stand there, sullen and silent, not bragging like before, not in some delicious mood, no you hate yourself more and more.

Satoru walks to you, long strides with his tall legs, until he’s facing you, until his hessian boots touch your slippered feet, and he tilts your chin up, seeing the marks Nanami left, and he chuckles darkly. He grabs you by your hair, pulling tightly, forcing you to look him right in his broken blue eyes, you gulp as you do, as you feel so horrible you can’t take it.

And why.

Why?

He’d done this since the beginning!

Why!?

Why do you care.

Why…

“You fucked him, didn’t you!?” He demands, and all you can do is look down, as he cups your face, with emotions screwing up his beautiful face. “You fucked him, just say it, just say it.”

“I did.” You whisper, and he lets you go roughly, walking to the table, pulling everything off and it crashes to the floor. You tense as you watch him, as you feel yourself already tight in your throat again, you feel your body going numb as you watch him pace, hands in his snowy white hair.

“How could you!? How could you! I sent them home, I’ve waited all day for you, and you were letting another man take your virginity!?” You just sob, brokenly, into your hands, shocked your eyes have wetness left.

“We will… be not together… soon. Annulment. I’m getting one. What does it matter what I do?” You say, in a hoarse, weak voice, and Satoru scowls, grabbing you by your arms then.

“Why would you not give me a chance!”

“Why would you not give me a chance when we met! As soon as we met, you decided this all!” You shove him off you, and smack him then, only for him to smack you right back, shoving you against the table, bare of anything, his face full of rage as you both bear handprints on your faces.

“You stupid fucking girl. So stupid. I begged for you, I was pathetic for you, bloody hell I despise you. I hate you so fucking much.” He’s squeezing your face, and you just cry, eyes shutting.

“I deserve your hatred, as you deserve mine. We both are nothing to each other, nothing! Do you see!?”

“Oh, I see, crystal fucking clear. I’m not good enough, am I?”

Your eyes go wide. “What!? No, you’re just fucking cruel Gojo! You’re mean, you’re nasty, you think eating me out makes it all okay! No!”

“And what sort of whore fucks a man like that, huh?” You glare up at him.

“You, you’re the sort of whore, huh! Fucking mad it wasn’t you?”

“Fuck you. Fuck you.” He’s squeezing you so hard you think you really might break, as you both breathe each other’s air, as you grow light headed, as every inch of you ignites for a man that can’t be yours, a man that hates you. “You exist to destroy me, I knew it from the beginning.”

“You keep saying things like this, as if you did not wish for this, for us to do nothing, I am fulfilling your wishes!”

“All I wished was to know you, to touch you, to be near you, and all you do is crush me. Just like-” He stops then, and you look up at him, eyes fucking burning, as your own hands stop shoving him, just resting, feeling his heart pound against you at an insane rate.

“Just like who?” You ask softly, and he scoffs, leaning low, his lips hovering right over yours, and you hate how you still ache, even after everything, even knowing this was nothing, you want him, you want him.

Why do you?

Why?

Why did you do this?

Why!?

Why do you care?

Why…

“I’ll never open up again to you. Go be a little slut and open your legs for whoever you want, see if I ask to come near you.” You grit your teeth.

“Good! I don’t want you!”

“Good, I will never want you!

“Good!”

“Fuck you, Duchess.” He pulls your hair hard again, and kisses you deeply, overtaking you, bruising your lips, and you gasp, and let him, let his tongue ruin your mouth, let his teeth bite you. He bites your lips so hard you bleed, so you bite him back, and then he shoves you off, chest heaving, red beading his pink pouty mouth. “I hate you.”

“I hate you.” You whisper back, and you hate that it’s a lie, you hate that you care, you hate that his pain hurts you. “I chose someone who loves me.”

“Loves you!? Ha! You’re so stupid.”

“Why, because I think someone could? You just fear no one will ever love you, and I wonder why, maybe because you’re horrible!”

He kisses you again, and you cling to him, tasting the iron of your blood mixing, as you’re moaning, and fuck it feels good. Fuck it’s heady and insanity, and fuck you can’t explain it. It has to stop, it has to. “You’re horrible, a stupid whore. A cold hearted bitch.” He whispers, pulling so hard you think he’ll rip your hair out.

“You helped make me this way.” You bite him again, and he slaps you again, earning you just getting wetter as you smack the fuck out of him back with a loud clack in the air. And damned if you're not wetter than you had with Nanami inside you. Fuck Satoru. Fuck him.

“Hate you so much.” He’s squeezing your throat, and you whimper, earning his soft moan. “Hate you little whore.”

“I h-hate you, Satoru. I’m glad I did it. You get… a taste of… your own fucking medicine, huh?” You whisper, as he squeezes, as he grabs your ass, pressing you against his thigh, and you grind helplessly.

He groans, feeling your heat on his leg, feeling you soak his trousers. “Pathetic, nasty slut, can’t help yourself, can you?”

You suck in a breath, as he presses his thigh up, and you could cum from that. Fuck he’s right, you are, a pathetic slut for this heinous man. “You’re pathetic, man whore, fuck you.”

“I’ll go fuck this entire brothel.” He shoves you then, and you’re coughing, as he walks away, grabbing his coat, and you follow him, furious.

“Oh no surprises there, what do I care, Satoru! What do I even fucking care what you do! Soon you’ll never have to see me again.”

He stares at you, hurt blatant in his eyes, before steeling himself, and you see him, the cold Duke Gojo again.

“Good, I can’t fucking wait.”

Gojo’s POV

Satoru Gojo has two women sucking on his cock that night, as he sips his whiskey, as he thinks of you, of your gorgeous face, covered with his red handprint, as he thinks of leaving handprints all over your slutty body. As he thinks of fucking you better than your silly baker surely did, as he thinks of fucking you so good you scream for him, that you’re convulsing.

Stupid slutty brat, that he still wants, even as he watches the two women make out over his tip, swapping his precum between their mouths. As he pictures another man taking what was his, as he thinks of killing that man, tearing him apart, he sips more of his whiskey, burning a trail down his throat.

“You taste so yummy, your Grace!” One girl giggles, looking up at Satoru and licking her lower lip.

“You do indeed, your grace.” He hums, as they set his glass down, pulling them both to him, each on one thigh.

“Play with each other, would you? Wanna see you both kissing.” Satoru says, and they giggle and kiss, as Satoru runs a hand down their backs, and the liquor has run through him, and he’s just a little dizzy. As he shuts his eyes and pictures fucking your stupid whore mouth until you drool.

Fuck why can’t he stop thinking of you, after you crushed him!?

Why!

Why does he care?

Why!?

Why does Satoru still want you, when he said he never would in the first place, when he swore to himself he was done forever with any women.

Why…

Why do you hurt him so?

Why.

Satoru has two women on a gaudy red bed in a brothel, and he figures fuck it then, fingering one, when he kisses down the other’s stomach, and she gasps as he flicks a tongue over her folds. She’s whimpering, pulling at his hair, like you did, because what did it matter anymore? You weren’t special, you were nothing, you didn’t give a fuck about him.

You fucked someone, who knows maybe he came in you, maybe he’d get you pregnant, maybe you’d go live with him and have babies. Maybe you’d be happy, and if Satoru had love, the love you want, the love you think is real, he’d happily let you go. But Satoru hates you so much now, fuck he hates you, hates how you’ve made him feel things again, just to destroy him.

He’s lapping up this woman, who’s squirting her pleasure all on his face, as the other girl is screaming out, cumming around his fingers, and all he can think of is your taste, is your pretty face. It makes him that much harder, as he dives down on the other woman, while the woman he’d just had cum sinks to her knees, sucking his cock, and he fucks her throat.

When Satoru fucks into one of the women, he doesn’t know their names, he doesn’t care, not when he cried over you, not when you broke him, not when he’s watching the other woman lick her cunt. Not when they’re laying on top of each other, and he’s fucking one, then the other, not even then does he care to know their names, not even then can he forget you.

Satoru can never get over you, the one that was never his. And he wanted it this way, didn’t he? Now he’d never get you, what a fool he was to have thought so, not when you’re in the arms of another, not when you gave yourself away, not when he still would take you, still would die to have you

 The girl who brushed his hair back and tucked him in, who were you truly? You were right, Satoru did not know you, and you did not know him, all he knows is that he burns for you.

All he knows is that he can’t cum, not when he’s picturing you instead, not when he wishes he could feel your needy, slutty cunt with his cock. He can’t even be disgusted by you, you’re too goddamn gorgeous, he wants you too much, he’d take you anyway, he’d take you right after you fucked someone.

And he hates himself for it. Satoru hates himself, and he hates you. He hates that he feels something, he hates that he feels so much, he detests your pretty face, he can’t take your haunting looks. He hates that he understands what you did, that he can’t blame you even in his fury, because you did what he pushed you to do. You just reacted to him, and here he was.

He was a fool.

How could he think a couple right actions would save something that never even got started? How could these two pretty women not do hardly a thing, in any goddamn position, in any pressure on his cock, as he tries to fall into them, to hide the pain, the darkness, that sucks him in, the darkness of his feelings.

You are a black hole, you suck him in and leave nothing.

Your POV

Satoru Gojo is a black hole, he sucks you in, and leaves you with nothing, he scatters you into pieces, crashing to the earth with the weight of his gravity. Satoru Gojo hates you, and he’s fucking his whores, and you can’t stop thinking of him, of the pain in his eyes, in the words he said, so mysterious, in the way the man grabs you, looks at you, with anger, with lust with…

Not love.

It was not love, it could not be, no Nanami loves you, Nanami treats you so right, Nanami cares. Even after all you’ve done, he cares. And you should not feel bad for your actions, you should not feel bad for wanting to be loved, not when you’re with this black hole of a human being.

Then why does it hurt so bad?

Why?

Why do you picture him on top of you?

Why!?

You hate yourself, and you hate yourself so deeply, it’s like you’re unrecognizable, like there’s nothing of you left. Satoru Gojo saps the air from your lungs, he makes you burn for him against your own goddamn will, he makes you question yourself, he consumes you. With his stupid blue eyes, with his demeaning, nasty words that excite you.

Even as you touch your cheek, feeling the sting of his hand, still throbbing from his hits, your nipples tighten in response. You’d lost your virginity today, but you lost more than that, you’ve lost yourself, as you stare at the ceiling, alone in this empty goddamn room, in the cold house, and you rub your throat, as you struggle to catch a breath.

But how could you breathe with Satoru near?

Why did you wish he could take your breath away, why would you gladly give it to him, when he does not deserve it, why do you hate yourself more than you did this morning? Why do you see him, and his stupid pretty face, why does the biting kiss of his cruel lips do more to you than anything else? Why do the very thoughts of him have you panting in your bed.

Your heavy eyes shut, tired of crying, as you fall into a dreamless sleep, as you sink into the cold sheets of your bed, a bed that feels like a prison. In a home that doesn’t feel like a home, but feels like pure hell, hell that you just want to drown in, for a chance to see Satoru’s evil goddamn soul. For him to let you in.

Why are you like this?

Why…

ao3 chap : https://archiveofourown.org/works/58976983/chapters/152639695

A/N: Well... mmhmm. Hope you all um, enjoyed!? This traumatic ass insane chapter. Did you think they were going to make progress yet? Oh no, dear readers it's a toxic, enemies to lovers slow burn. I put alot of work into this so I hope it shows <3 I put these out very fast, but I do not enjoy the pushiness of some people demanding chapters out even quicker! I'm writing 10k plus chaps in less than a week lol. Please respectful when asking for updates.

Love you all SO MUCH. I can't wait to read your thoughts, I just love them :)

Until next time, dear Masochistic readers.

Part Eight

[maddie-jayne]

cheating is a different kind of heartbreak, which hurts me more than anything else. like after reading, i can jump out of the window if i lose my mind enough.

[cirtusmistress]

JJK Bridgerton Inspired HC’s - Gojo, Geto, Nanami

authors note: so your girl is on a Bridgerton binge and a JJK rewatch binge so like.. I’m boutta cater to such a niche audience lmao

genre: historical romance

tw: a lil horny sometimes but ultimately SFW

AO3 Crosspost

💙 Crown Prince Satoru Gojo and The Debutant 💙

• A prince by birth and next in line for the throne.

• Well bred, read, and wanted most dead. Has lived through multiple assasination attempts.

• Was never really interested in the prospect of marriage, was more invested in rehauling the royal system as a whole.

• Likes to spend his time with the young royals and nobles like his ward Megumi.

• W H O R E. Chronic flirt. Smart enough not to accidently sire an heir but knows how to have his fun.

• Met you during your debut year. You were the first woman to actually catch his eye.

• First he thought it was just more sexual attraction, but after a dance and a conversation he knew it was much more. Your wit was unmatched and you had snark enough to keep up with him.

• Played it cool though because he knew if he gave you too much attention you’d have a target on your back, and he wanted to make sure you were his.

• Goes out of his way to see you as much as he can. Lots of ‘accidental’ run-ins.

• The moment that sealed the deal for him was when you near bested him in a fencing match. It had been so long since someone had surprised him.

• Though being under the eyes of the crown prince doesn’t go unnoticed. Soon enough other men began attempting to court you. Even worse, certain parties started conspiring to use you against him.

• This all came to a head when you were cornered at a ball. You were meant to be taken hostage and used to lure and kill the prince. But there was no corner of the world they could hide you where he would not look. His day started and ended with you and if they harmed you the world would burn in your name.

• You were found and rescued by him, and your kidnappers were dealt with in a swift and brutal fashion.

• He proposed on the spot. No hesitation he was on that shit. You were to be his and that was that. And you would never be alone again.

• The wedding was huge. No expense was spared and he catered to your every whim and desire. You were his gorgeous only ever.

• Honeymoon was.. Oh baby. Literally. You weren’t coming back without being knocked up.

💜 Duke Suguru Geto and The Viscountess 💜

• Of common birth and rose to the rank of Duke after the former Duke passed away. He was the only living male relative, hence receiving the title.

• A former friend of the crown prince. The pair had a falling out when Geto grew power hungry in his new role. He is still a respected member of the ton, though under constant watch of the crown.

• As a Duke he is in charge of a small township. He’s known for his high taxes and using his citizens to collect rare birds from the surrounding area. He keeps them in an aviary with clipped wings, and sells them to other nobility for profit.

• He once was in charge of two townships, but one mysteriously burnt to the ground. An investigation brought no results, but it did reveal two survivors. Geto took them in as his wards.

• He met you during one of his bird sales to the Queen. You were a member of her entourage.

• You were a young widowed Viscountess with two young daughters of your own. Your husband had died of medical complications, leaving you alone with no sons. Luckily you had favor with the queen, but with no husband and no heirs you were in desperate need of saving.

• He found your unwavering commitment to your children admirable and you two began a long friendship.

• Your girls all got along well, and you loved his daughters with all your heart. Something about you doing their hair and tending to them so gently made his heart flutter.

• The friendship did eventually turn into more.. Especially after you admitted you urned for more children.

• Enter baby fever Suguru.

• He proposed in his aviary, promising to love your children as his own, and to give you as many more children as you desire.

• Townsfolk said Geto became far kinder after your marriage.

💛 Viscount Kento Nanami and The Housekeeper 💛

• Kento was born into his role as Viscount. And he takes it extremely seriously. Balancing finances and planning events, maintaining a reputation for his family.

• Unlike other men in the ton he rarely goes out to gentlemans clubs. He goes on the occasional hunt though he sees it as pointless and barbaric.

• His goal was to find a practical match, not a love match. He wanted someone who would bare him an heir, so that one day he could rest knowing he had done all he could for his family.

• His housekeeper eventually was forced to retire after injuring her hip. She had served his family for over fifty years and raised him, so he ensured she lived the rest of her life comfortably.

• But.. That meant he had to find a replacement. Easier said than done. No one could live up to the former housekeeper. Plenty of maids were recommended but.. None of them felt right. So he put out a request.

• And then you showed up. Younger, so he was skeptical. But you came on high recommendation from her majesty herself. Apparently you were quite capable and able to handle the heavy loads associated with the job.

• And lord were you. No one could have taken this job more seriously. Not a hair out of place, not a meal late. Sheets pressed. Animals tended.

• And Nanami found it.. Oh so attractive. Your dedication. Your concentration.

• Nothing impressed him more than your skills in the kitchen. You were an amazing cook. Although it wasn’t a listed priority in your job, you still took time out of your day to prepare one of his meals. Usually his afternoon tea.

• After a few months, he was starting to grow fond of you. It was improper to feel such emotions for a servant. But he couldn’t help notice all the little things. The crease of your brow as you kneaded dough. The satisfied smile after a days work completed. The pensive worry in your eyes as you dotted on him in his study.

• Eventually he had enough. Forgetting formality for once in his life, he gave you his heart. And you returned it.

• It was a scandal, but he took it. Because having you made it all worth it.

[starstickynotes]

Dancing With Gojo Satoru

pairings: satoru gojo x f! reader

warnings: none!

this is pure fluff. tooth rotting fluff. I've never been so motivated to write something and now I have a lot more motivation to write, so I'll be taking requests! I'm a lot more active again so I'll also be happy to answer any questions too. Feedback is appreciated!

Enjoy :)

Everyone knows Gojo is a good dancer. He’s literally good at anything he does. But when it comes to dancing, Satoru favors when it’s just you two. 

Sure, when you go to the club with your friends he has a good time. I mean, come on, he gets to keep his hands on you all night. There will be no doubts that he is yours and you are his. He enjoys the way your body leans against his all night and how your hands will run up and down his chest or your arms wrapped around his neck.

In fact he loves those nights. 

But Gojo loves to dance when it’s you two alone in your shared apartment. 

The first time you danced alone with Satoru was in the kitchen. It was sometime after 9pm and you both wanted to make cookies. You decided to put on a playlist of high energy songs to bounce around and sing to while baking. 

The dough was in a ball, ready to be rolled out, when “Everytime We Touch” by Cascada had come on. Satoru was putting some dishes in the sink while you prepared the dough on the counter. The chorus of the song had begun and you turned to Satoru, holding the rolling pin as a microphone.

“CAUSE EVERYTIME WE TOUCH I GET THIS FEELING!”

Satoru basically jumped out of his pajama pants, but turned to you and couldn’t hold back his smile even if he wanted to. 

“AND EVERYTIME WE KISS I SWEAR I COULD FLY!” you continued. 

Satoru quickly grabbed the whisk he had yet to put in the sink for his impromptu microphone and joined you. 

“CAN’T YOU FEEL MY HEART BEAT FAST! I WANT THIS TO LAST!”

You dramatically pointed at Satoru while singing the last line of the chorus, “NEED YOU BY MY SIDE!”

You two continued to dramatically perform the rest of the song and a few that followed. Jumping around the kitchen, striking silly poses, and doing goofy dances. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing. And Satoru swore he had never seen anything more beautiful than that sight. 

It didn’t matter that the next song that played was “Last Friday Night”. Satoru looked at you and smiled a smile that said “you are my one,” and reached a hand out to you. 

“May I have this dance?” 

Your smile softened from one of excitement to one of adoration. You placed your hand in his.

“You may.” 

You both put your “microphones” back on the counter. He placed his now free hand on your waist, and you placed yours on his shoulder. 

To any outsider looking in, it would look a little silly to be dancing like this in your pajamas at almost 10pm in your kitchen. But no one could deny the pure love and affection shared between the two of you. It’s as if the rest of the world faded away, and all that was left was the two of you dancing in that kitchen. 

Satoru had begun to spin and dip you, making you laugh all over again. He put you in a dip and held you there for a moment, speaking softly, “You really are so beautiful, you know,” before bringing you back up. You couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks. 

“Says the handsome gentleman I get to call my boyfriend.”

He spun you out before pulling you back into a sweetheart hold. He melted from there, wrapping his hands around your waist and dropping his chin to your shoulder. You placed your hands over his. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered to you. 

You leaned your head against his. “I love you, too.”

He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled into your neck. You gently stroked your thumb against his hand. 

“You make me so happy.” 

You leaned into his touch a little further. You grabbed his left hand and brought the back of it to your mouth, kissing his left ring finger. 

“I’m glad.” 

The two of you stood there for a few minutes just enjoying each other’s embrace before you suggested finishing the cookies. Satoru kissed your cheek and spun you back out. He then changed the playlist to one of softer songs you guys could sing to each other. 

The second time you danced alone with Satoru was in your bedroom before a dinner party with your friends. You stood in front of a full length mirror. You were wearing a slim black dress with a leg slit, neck and ears adorned with plenty of expensive rocks Satoru felt the need to spoil you with. Satoru walked up from behind you, dressed in a black suit with a silver watch to match your jewelry. He put his hands on your waist and kissed the side of your neck before placing his chin on your exposed shoulder. He made eye contact with you in the mirror. He whispered in your ear.

“Mmm, tu es si belle mon amour.” 

A tingle shivered down your spine. You smiled at him through the mirror. 

“What did I say about speaking French?”

Satoru’s hands began to roam your body, trying to feel every curve as if to memorize it (like he hasn’t already). He mumbled into your shoulder, “That I should do it more often.”

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t let the smile fall from your lips. “To not do it until we get back from our plans.” 

“Oh, but baby,” Satoru reached around to the outside of your left thigh, “it’s not my fault you get so hot and bothered by it.” Satoru lifted your leg and spun you to face him. He dipped you backwards, your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. He leaned closer to your face. Sultry, he whispered, “c’est ton problème.”

You let your eyes close and your head fall back before he brought you back up to your feet. Your eyes met his, a smirk lingering across his face. He lifts the arm wrapped around your waist and guides your arm to his shoulder before returning his arm to your waist. He interlaces your fingers with the other. 

“danse avec moi, ma chérie?” 

You squeezed his hand in yours and smiled sweetly at your boyfriend. Matching his tone, you replied, “bien sûr, mon ange.” 

Satoru began to sway the two of you away from the mirror. He held you close this time, never letting you stray too far. While there was no music playing, the two of you shared a rhythm easily, never missing a step. He would spin you under his arm and bring you right back into his chest. He’d lower you into a dip and kiss you every time. Spin. Kiss. Dip. Kiss. The cycle on repeat between every few steps. Each kiss became longer and more passionate. 

He dipped you low and attached his lips to yours. Your hands left his neck to find solace on the back of his head. Satoru tried to return upright but you kept him in his place. One hand traveling down to his chest and lingering there as you allowed him to pull you both up, lips detaching only for a quick breath before the two of you were chasing each other's lips. 

You began to walk Satoru backwards, his hands holding onto your waist. You pushed him back onto your shared bed. 

You were late to the dinner party that night. 

The third time you danced alone with Satoru was in your shared bathroom one quiet Saturday morning. You had woken up at 8. You blearily looked at your boyfriend in the morning light. His hair always falls softly across his face and pillow. The way the sun kisses his cheeks. The way he always had an arm wrapped around you, protecting you even in slumber. You thought nothing of this world could compete with the beauty that is Gojo Satoru peacefully sleeping in the morning sun. 

You reached a hand up and caressed his cheek with the back of your index finger. A featherlight touch. You moved your hand up to move the hair away from his eyes. Satoru didn’t move at all.

“You can hold me,” he mumbled. Eyes still closed. 

He didn’t have to specify. He knew that in the morning, before you started your day, you loved to run your hands through his hair and hold his head in your hands. It was your way of making sure you gave him at least one physical show of affection each day. There were rough days where you or he would come home late from missions or were simply so tired you’d pass out immediately after entering the door. You were sure he knew you loved him every day, but you want to make sure he feels that love every day. So you make sure before you guys get up or before you leave for work that you get to run your hands through his hair and hold him. Sometimes you add a kiss. Most of the time you add a kiss. 99% of the time you add a kiss. 

So you ran your hand through his hair and placed your hand at the nape of his neck. You leaned forward and Satoru met you halfway, encouraging you to place your lips on his forehead. 

You leaned back and made eye contact with Satoru. You both shared a soft smile. He leaned forward this time and you shared a loving kiss. It’s as if his lips were infused with ambrosia and you needed a taste to survive. You both separated, but didn’t move far. Your foreheads were touching and Satoru ran a hand up and down your arm. 

Softly, in the quiet morning he asked, “Are you ready to get up?” 

You softly nod. The two of you begin to slowly sit up and get up from the bed. You made your way to the bathroom as Satoru began making the bed. It’s your routine. You shower first. While you shower, Satoru makes the bed and goes around the apartment opening the curtains and blinds to allow natural sunlight to flow in, and starts a load of laundry. You guys had planned for this day to be a movie day, so he also arranged the living room couch to the bed-like set up it could be, throwing a few extra pillows and blankets on it as well. When it was his turn to shower, you started the coffee pot and picked out the matching loungewear you guys would be wearing. You put yours on and placed his on the bed. Then you began your skin care routine. Despite his perfect skin, Gojo did nothing to make it that way. Annoying as it is. 

You were in the last steps of your routine when Satoru turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He dried himself off with his towel before wrapping it around his waist. He made his way past you, quickly placing a kiss on your temple as he moved towards the bedroom. 

When he walked back in you moved on to brushing your teeth. He once again pecked your forehead in passing. He stopped in front of his sink and began brushing his teeth as well. 

It was something so simple. The two of you brushing your teeth together in the morning. Your hair still wet from the shower and Satoru’s normally fluffy hair matted against his head and neck. It was hot but that’s not what had you swooning. It was the thought of doing this for the rest of your life. Sure, you’ve done this everyday for the past five years but that’s not enough. You want forever. You need forever with Satoru. 

You don’t know how to explain it. Maybe it’s the domesticity of the moment. Or how right it feels to go through life side by side with each other. Or the way he knows you and you know him. The way the world, with all its cruel nature, felt safer and lighter with him in it. 

Or maybe it was the way he brushed his teeth. 

You simply couldn’t explain it. 

All you know is you both finished brushing your teeth and you put yourself in his arms. By habit he had wrapped you in them. You had your arms around his waist and your head on his chest. He looked at your face in the mirror. A subtle smile rested on your lips. 

“What’s up, baby?”

You looked up at him.

“Will you dance with me?”

He smiled back, a man totally head over heels, and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. 

“I’ll do anything you ask of me.” 

He began to sway you in the embrace you guys shared. It wasn’t big and flashy like the past times. There was no flair. There were no big steps that took you across the bathroom and back. If anything it resembled a school dance with a crowded dance floor that left little room for movement. Only the thing crowding you guys this time wasn’t people, but the love you two held for each other. As if you could feel it in the air, surrounding you. 

There were no prying eyes. And this dance was for no one but the two of you.

And if anyone did see, they would most definitely call it boring. 

But it was one of your favorites. 

Your head remained on Satoru’s chest, your eyes closed and your smile never fading. Satoru’s eyes never left your face in the mirror. His smile never faltered. 

He leaned his head down ever so slightly. He whispered, “Spin?” 

You looked up at him, smile never moving. You nodded and indulged in a spin for him. Immediately finding your place against his chest once more. 

His smile grew wider, if possible. 

His hands moved to wrap your figure. One across your back, the other behind your head. He pulled you into a passionate embrace. You tightly squeezed back. 

“You ready for us to make breakfast?” 

You let out a sigh of content. He could feel your smile as you replied, “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Before you could do anything, you let out a yelp as Satoru had you lifted over his shoulder and carried you out of the bathroom. 

“Satoru!” 

He laughed as you hit his back while he walked.

“Gojo Satoru put me down!” 

As he entered the kitchen he took you off his shoulder and placed you gently on the ground. You crossed your arms and glared up at him. He only smirked back. 

“Come on, sweetheart. I know you love it.” 

You held his eye contact. “No, I don’t .”

He shook his head slightly, “You can’t lie to me, Y/N.” He made his way to the fridge. 

You held your ground, “I don’t like when you manhandle me.” 

Satoru smirked at you over his shoulder. 

“That’s not what you said last night.”

“SATORU!” 

The fourth time you and Satoru danced alone was after binge watching Bridgerton. The two of you dressed as regal as the characters in the show - Satoru bare chested and adorning cozy sweatpants, and you in one of his hoodies and shorts. You guys were ready for the ball. 

You were cuddled up, head resting on Satoru’s chest with his arm snug around your waist, the other behind his head. You looked up at him as he rested his head on the back of the couch.

“Would you buy me a dress like the ones they wear in the show?”

He didn’t move but responded, “Only if I get to have one of the fancy suits.”

You sat up. “Wait. Really?” Your face dressed in disbelief. 

He moved his eyes to your face and raised an eyebrow. “Uh, obviously.” 

You chuckled and shook your head, then stood from the couch. “Come on.”

“What?” 

You rolled your eyes and motioned for him to stand. “Get up!” 

“Why?”

“Oh come on.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “Okay, okay,” he caved, “What are we doing?” 

You smiled up at him.

“Dancing like we’re at one of those balls, of course.”

He returned that sweet smile tenfold. His hands at his sides, he bowed his head. “Of course, my lady.” 

The two of you decided to learn one of the dances from the show, ultimately deciding on Kate and Anthony’s dance to “Wrecking Ball.” 

You giggled at first and Satoru smiled down at you, but you quickly went into concentration mode. Whenever you learned a dance you really got into it. And Satoru let you correct him and did whatever you told him to do. He just wanted to make you happy. 

Learning the first move was simple. Standing apart, facing each other, you curtsy as he bows. You reach your arms out and connect your hands. He steps forward as you step back. Then you step forward as he steps back. A step to your right. Back to your left. Another step to your left.

You and Satoru practiced the step sequence a few times with the music to make sure you had it down before moving onto the spin. 

The two of you moved on to the first spin. First practicing in place. You spin under your arms, leaving your right arm lifted with his right. Your left arms moving behind your back. Once you felt the two of you had it smooth, you moved onto stepping into the spin. 

It felt natural for the two of you to be dancing like this. As if a pair of lovers from the regency period had been reincarnated as the two of you in the modern day. For the two of you, learning the dance and filling in the steps the camera didn’t catch in the show came as naturally as breathing. As if you’ve danced this dance before. 

You two had run through the full dance a few times now. Satoru is positive you both know it by now, but you can’t seem to keep your eyes off the TV screen to make sure the moves are correct. 

At the same time as Anthony Bridgerton, Satoru whispered, “Just keep looking at me.” 

Your body naturally followed the moves while your head snapped back to him. With pure adoration in his eyes, he smiled at you. After your spin and a quick choreographed pause in the dance, once again with Anthony Bridgerton, he whispered. 

“No one else matters.” 

A faint smile formed on your lips. You two easily went into the next steps, just as Satoru knew you would. 

As you continued the dance, you grew more confident in your steps. Your smile grows with each move. It must be contagious because as your smile grows wider, Satoru follows suit. He swears the universe was created simply for this moment to occur. 

The dance ended. You two stared at each other smiling. Fondness ever present. 

“Do you think we could add a few moves from this to our first dance when we get married?” you asked him. 

“Anything my lady wants, she will get.” He reached over and reset the TV to the beginning of the dance. He stood tall in front of you again, a smirk tugged at his lips. “So we better keep practicing.” 

Your smile found your lips once more. You two reset to your starting places, curtsied and bowed, and began the dance again.

Both yours and Satoru’s favorite time you danced alone was in front of your family and friends at your wedding reception. 

Sure, physically you were surrounded by people, but it felt as if no one was in the room with the two of you. It felt like you were back in your kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room. The private dance studio of your shared apartment. 

However, you and Satoru moved alone in the center of the dance floor. You truly felt like you were a princess marrying her prince. You wore a ball gown inspired wedding dress (that you would change out of and into another elegant dress but one simpler to move in after the dance, speeches, and cake cutting) while Satoru wore a navy blue suit embroidered with a subtle floral pattern also in navy. You don’t know if you’ve ever smiled so passionately in your life than during this dance with your now-husband. 

Satoru had more than complied with your requests to take some moves from the Bridgerton dance and happily learned a whole ballroom routine with you. You were nervous when you first asked him if he would be interested in taking a class to get first dance ideas. Satoru crushed all your nervousness in a millisecond by getting super excited and picking you up and spinning you around as you laughed. After the class you both enjoyed it so much and felt like it captured your love for each other beautifully and found a choreographer to help make the dance. 

The two of you also go to weekly dance classes now. 

Now the two of you command every eye in the room. Yet yours are only held by Satoru’s, and his held by yours. It didn’t matter how many eyes were on the two of you, that moment was yours and Satoru’s alone.

If the passion in your graceful steps, careful arm movements, and elegant dips and spins couldn’t announce the infatuation the both of you shared for one another, the intense eye contact and subconscious smiles that lasted throughout the entire dance informed the universe that these two souls were destined to be intertwined. 

As you went into a move taken from the Bridgerton dance the two of you learned, Satoru tilted his head ever so slightly. You didn’t think his eyes could soften anymore than they already had, but Satoru was a man in love, and he whispered.

“No one else matters.”

It was as if he lit a fire in you. Your dance continued with the same choreography, yet your smiles grew into smirks of confidence. The two of you had more power in each of your steps. A visual representation of your relationship as your love grew stronger each day you chose each other day after day for years. 

This dance was not for your parents, or friends, or extended family. This was a dance for you and Satoru. 

Satoru didn’t notice his mother smiling at a nearby table or Suguru filming the dance from the bridal party table. All he saw was his beautiful wife in front of him, smiling the brightest he’s ever seen. And when you laugh as he dips you further than rehearsed, he swears he would submerge himself in it if he could. 

And you didn’t notice the flower girl cooing to Yuki about how she wants to be a princess like you or your father dabbing his eyes next to your mother. All you saw was the most amazing husband the universe could have gifted you with. His blue eyes rival the most beautiful waters and his passion brighter than any star in the night sky. 

As the dance came to an end, you stood before Satoru. He stood before you. Your hands connected. 

The music faded.

He pulled you softly towards him, an arm wrapping around your waist. The other softly cupped your cheek. Your hands move to frame his face.  

Satoru leaned forward and captured your lips in a tender kiss.

You connect like puzzle pieces made for each other. 

Like lovers from past centuries reincarnated, bound to find each other every time.

Devoted dance partners in every life. 

[stellayuta]

Diamond of the Cursed Water - A JJK x Bridgerton Story

synopsis: In the opulent ballrooms of Regency-era London, where nobility's finest waltz under glittering chandeliers, a secret world of sorcery brews beneath the surface. Enter Duke Satoru Gojo, the enigmatic, hedonistic sorcerer whose dazzling charm and unmatched power captivate society's elite, yet he remains unable to find a match that truly intrigues him. Meanwhile, Viscount Yuuta of the Okkotsu fame, a kind-hearted noble with hidden jujutsu talents, is haunted by past sorrows and is fearful of love. As whispers of curses and romance intertwine, their paths cross with a certain woman in a dance of fate, opening their hearts to possibilities neither dared dream of.

Meet your characters:

Satoru Gojo

Title: Duke

Affiliation: The Noble Gojo Family

Duchy: Sugawara-ku

Secret Profession: Jujutsu Sorcerer

Likes: Sweet confections, horse riding, guns, red roses, suits, exorcising special grade curses

Dislikes: Balls serving Alcohol, soirees, difficult women, people prettier than him

Yuuta Okkotsu

Title: Viscount

Affiliation: The Noble Okkotsu Family

Duchy: Fujiwara-ku

Secret Profession: Student Jujutsu Sorcerer

Likes: handling and tending to his estate, gardening and horticulture, relaxed soirees, talking to people, smell of freshly washed fabric, yutakas

Dislikes: people who don't smile, hierarchy and titles, disingenuous people

Coming soon....!

[fushitoru]

sneak peek of bridgerton!nanami :3

tw: not edited, not all of this will make the final cut. posting this just for pooks who are curious as to what this series will look like (roughly)

The hooded figure walks through the streets of London, shaded by both the weathered buildings and the murk of night.The ancient stone edifices, worn by time and weather, cast long shadows beneath the pale gaze of the moon, which alone dared to illuminate the sky.  Yet, with unwavering certainty, the figure moved. With a purpose. 

To any onlooker, discerning the figure's build would have been an impossible task. Indeed, should any be so bold as to observe, they would perceive nothing more than the methodical rhythm of their footfalls. For this hooded figure was not merely hidden by the night; they were a master of stealth, a virtuoso of ambition.

They get closer and closer to the streets with lines and lines of presses and bookshops before finally stepping into one. The jingle of the bell rings as they open the door, cutting the silence like a knife to butter. The press boy looks up languidly from his desk, lazed back even if the hooded figure is tense, as if scared to get discovered. 

The figure uses their hand to get the hood out of their eyes, to reveal their face and level the boy with a firm stare. You brush your hair back and rummage through your cloak to get the draft out of your pocket You toss it onto the desk, your voice adopting the clipped tone of a forced French accent, as you make an attempt at a scowl. “My lady has a fresh edition for you. See that it is prepared for dawn next week. We shall tolerate no delays, unlike the last time. Do I make myself plain?”

At once, the boy shot to his feet, stiffening at the sight of Lady Whistledown’s errand runner. The mere mention of that name had a way of stirring the press into action. Her words, the most profitable the press had ever published, had lifted the establishment—and the boy’s own family—from the very brink of ruin. Lady Whistledown’s business was the press’s lifeblood, and as such, the boy offered a tip of his hat. “Whatever Lady Whistledown requires.”

Satisfied, you lift your chin, already turning to retreat into the night. Three blocks south, one north, where the footman awaits. Slip in from the rear entrance, climb the stairs in silence—especially near Naoya’s floor—and at last, embrace the comfort of your bed.

For heaven forbid that anyone in the Zen’in household should ever learn of this affair.

…

Nanami Kento was a man of method, clean-cut and sharp as a newly whetted blade. There is a formula for everything, and Kento will have it figured out as the situation deems it.

Yet even the most precise systems were not without flaw, for he found himself silently cursing whatever God governed such things. The cruel design of his personal formula now demanded that he sit up well past midnight, slaving over endless documents concerning his estates, and some infernal matter involving the mines his dukedom held in the Americas. For if there was one thing Nanami Kento loathed above all else, it was working late into the night, long after a sensible bedtime.

It’s not the least of his problems, no. No, indeed, a greater torment awaited him in the drawing room over tea each morning—a daily trial set by his dear, relentless mother.

"My darling Kento, when shall I be graced with the pleasure of a daughter-in-law?"

The question, as constant as the ticking of a clock, prompted Kento to reach for a cloth, which he draped over his eyes in an attempt to stave off the inevitable headache that brewed with her words. Leaning back in his chair, he stretched his legs, his tired frame aching with fatigue, and ran a hand through his hair as a soft sigh escaped him.

The age-old question, indeed. Before, it was easier to not feel rushed in finding a wife, for his trio of friends were all bachelors. But as soon as his mother got wind that his infamous rake of a friend Gojo got married—to a now Lady Gojo—he could only count the days before his mother went to the extreme, perhaps even hiring a band of kidnappers to haul him to the nearest chapel for a hasty wedding.

Perhaps there was indeed something Kento hated more than working late. It was being rushed.

Not that Kento had any disdain for the institution of marriage itself. Far from it. It was a fine and noble thing, love and matrimony. He would never deny the pleasures and stability it offered. No, it was the manner in which he was expected to marry. His mind drifted to the endless parade of eligible ladies he had met at balls, soirees, and tea parties. They were all pleasant enough, some even kind, but none had ever managed to intrigue him, none had done anything to stand out. The same conversations, the same rehearsed smiles. Every introduction followed the same pattern: languages spoken, instruments played, the latest embroidery project or song learned.

He could already picture it—another ball, another young lady offering the same colection of accomplishments as the last. It was all so dreadfully repetitive. They rarely discussed ideas or had opinions of their own, and when they did, they were inevitably interrupted by their eager mothers, who hovered nearby, eyes gleaming at the thought of his title and fortune. The moment any conversation strayed beyond pleasantries, there was always a well-timed intrusion, as if the mothers feared their daughters might accidentally reveal too much of their true selves.

He wanted something more.

Marriage, in Kento's eyes, ought to be built on love, on mutual understanding and respect. He longed for a partner who would challenge him intellectually, who would bring something new to his life. But instead, he was presented with the same tired formula—a woman who played the pianoforte, spoke French, and blushed prettily when asked about her embroidery. It was all so... predictable.

Another sigh escaped him, this one deeper, more resigned. He shifted in his chair, folding the cloth over his eyes, and let his mind drift toward the inevitable dinner tomorrow, where his mother would no doubt regale him with yet another list of eligible young ladies.

"My dearest Kento," she would say, her voice sweet as ever, "Lady Brentwood’s daughter is a delightful young woman. A touch excitable, perhaps, but from a good family, and her dowry—oh, her dowry, my dear, would be the envy of the ton."

Nanami could almost hear the words already. He had heard similar speeches before, all delivered with that same fervent enthusiasm, as though his mother were speaking of a prized mare, rather than a potential life partner.

What was worse, as soon as the mothers caught wind of his presence at any event, they nearly salivated at the chance to secure a duke for their daughters. The constant interruptions, the fawning over his title, it all grated on him. The daughters rarely had the opportunity to finish a thought before their mothers swooped in, ensuring that their prospects remained intact.

It was no wonder Kento had grown weary of the entire process.

He let out a low groan, rubbing his temples. Perhaps love was too much to ask for in his station. Yet, despite the pressure, he could not bring himself to compromise. He wanted a marriage that meant something—a bond of intellect and heart, not just convenience.

"Kento," he muttered to himself, "you are truly doomed."

sorry for starving you guys on bridgerton!gojo content haha this is a sneak peak for reparations. anyways lemme get back to the grind. if you ever want to track my progress, i keep my wips page updated :)

also thank you to the influx of bridgerton!gojo asks. they really motivate me to write. appreciate u all <3

oh and final note: will not publish this series until we're close to the end of bridgerton!gojo, i CANNOT do two series at a time

[lalunanymph]

duke!gojo satoru who falls in love with servant!reader after dancing with her at a ball where reader impersonates a noblewoman .....

[kamastar39]

I want to turn anon on because I think taking requests for my art would be fun. I also get that some people are just shy and stay anon for good reasons but I don’t want some of you freaky hobgoblins on my page what do I do 🤦🏽‍♀️

[connorsui]

The velvet gown shimmered in the dim light as she held it up, eyes narrowing slightly.

“For you, my dear,” he smirked.

She arched a brow. “Something you expect me to wear?”

“…Yes,” he stepped closer, fingers grazing her shoulder. “I need you looking fabulous, so when you walk up behind me and kiss me on the neck, the players will be thinking about your neckline, not their cards. Do you think you can do that for me, my love?”

Her lips curved, leaning into him. “You know I will.”

The man in question: sylus, zayne, John Price, nanami kento, geto suguru, muzan kibutsuji, Logan Howlett, Sam Winchester, Joel Miller, Levi Ackerman, Cooper Howard, Leon Kennedy, Aizawa, Hawks, Daemon Targaryen, Colin Bridgerton

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you - in this chap it's Satoru Gojo x random girl, Nanami x you It's messy and will get messier.

♔ Warnings: Sex, infidelity, mentions of disordered eating of the reader, descriptions of reader physically (just ties in with the story here) cheating on both ends, cruelty from Duke Gojo, cunnilingus, fingering, first time blow jobs, toxic attraction. OOC. ANGST. SO MUCH TENSION. More Mr. Nanami. Gojo is TERRIBLE still, you're warned

♔ Word count this chap: 10k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

A/N: Half Gojo's POV, Half yours. LONG ONE

Part Four - Masterlist - Playlist

Part Five: The Masquerade

Your POV

 It’s the night of the Gojo manor masquerade, it’s so odd to think this is where you’d met Mr. Nanami years ago, in this cold man’s manor, long before you two were betrothed. Sometimes you wish you had just ran off with Mr. Nanami that night, but it was a foolish little idea, wasn’t it? How could you have happiness like that, when this is where you live.

After that night you’ve completely avoided the Duke, he has not just disgusted you, you’ve disgusted yourself with your reaction. You’d laid there for hours that night, and at some point Gojo had come into your room, you had acted asleep, of course so as not to face him.

It was late in the night, long past those disgusting noises you had to hear of Gojo and his Mistress, so you assumed they were asleep. You were just able to breathe finally, just able to exist a bit without feeling that tightness in your chest. Then he was there, you struggle to stay still as you hear your door open, hear it creaking gently in the night.

You could hear his footsteps in the night, bare feet padding along the old floors of the room, then he’d just stood there, like some creep, well he was, wasn’t he? A confusing, evil, cruel ass of a man. A man that had ripped your dress to shreds, and the worst part is you had been thrilled, you’d never felt more alive then when he’d consumed you.

You felt horrible, thinking of Nanami, someone you could see some future with, some happiness, his tired eyes and smirk on those lips. The way you felt so fucking safe in his arms. Not stupid Gojo, not the damned Duke who absolutely ruined your life, that wrecked your psyche. As confident and strong as you act, the Duke had single handedly destroyed so much.

Now he back tracks his words, shouldn’t have said this, shouldn’t have said that, but it’s poor, sad excuses. You cannot allow yourself to fall victim to him again.

He is leaning over you now, and your eyelashes flutter just a bit when he pulls your blanket up over your body, up on your shoulders, before you hear him sigh just a bit, brushing the backs of his fingers on your cheek. You want to smack him, you want to jump up, but then he’d know you were pretending, so you just lay there, exhaling and trying to keep still.

After a moment he’s gone, just like he was never there, leaving your cheek burning from the odd touch, and your mind more confused at this man. What even was his problem, why would he come here after fucking his whore, why would he watch you as you sleep!? The man who hates you so.

You shake off that weird night, and you had not said a word to him all day, even going so far as to eat breakfast in complete silence. He had just looked at you every so often, and you’d peeked back, raising a brow, expecting some nasty remark or comment, but he’d not said a single word. You’re not sure it’s much better than his cruelty, this weird silence.

You stand before the mirror in your room, your heart racing as your maid and Nan dress you in the gown of a glittery silver, the fabric shimmering like stars. It’s so very beautiful. Mei and Utahime absolutely did impeccably. It fits you so perfectly, cinched in with beautiful jewels along the bodice, it’s surely the finest thing you have ever worn or even seen.

“My, you’re a vision, your grace!” The maid says, and you smile at her, feeling yourself flush under the praise.

“Indeed, you’ll be the belle of the ball. Like a Princess.” Nan says then, and you twirl a bit, watching the light catching the flouncing skirts.

“You two are most kind. I do feel most lovely in this.” You admit, as you look at your reflection in the gilded mirror. Your hair is piled high on your head, adorned with a diamond tiara that sparkles brightly. You look like a princess, like a vision from a fairytale that’s come to life, and for a moment, you let yourself believe in the illusion.

Your mask is a thing of beauty as Nan ties it around your face, a delicate little creation of lace and velvet that covers the top half of your face, leaving only your eyes and lips exposed. You feel so mysterious with it, as if you could be anyone you want, and who would you want to be?

It feels as if you lose yourself more and more here.

You glide down the grand staircase now, the silk of your gown whispering against the marble as you descend into the masquerade ball, the violinists and cellists making the most beautiful melodies, mingling with the cacophony of laughter and conversation. As you step down further, the room is full of ladies in white, and gentlemen in black, dancing and mingling in pretty patterns.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you step down, curious if Mr. Nanami may make an appearance, curious if your ‘husband’ would pretend to be kind or not. His mother is here, along with your parents. As you enter the ballroom at the last step, your lace gloved hand on the bannister, heads turn and eyes follow your every movement, until they’re all looking at you.

Well everyone but one person, Satoru Gojo, he’s laughing with those bright white teeth, in his white suit, different from every other man in black, along with a dark blue cape and dark blue  mask, covering half his face. You can feel the air change, as they’re looking at you, and everything quiets. There are whispers then, as you nervously stand there, alone and in the center of attention.

‘The Duchess!’

‘She looks like a Princess!’

‘Beautiful!’

‘Breathtaking, look at that gown…’

You smile at them, as they look to you in awe, the many masked women and men, amongst a sea of butlers, waitresses and performers, no one moves a muscle. You see the familiar figure of Lord Geto and Lady Shoko, waving at you, and you look further, until you see his strong figure, in a suit that’s fit to him like a glove, those hazel lazy eyes twinkling.

You smile shyly as you see his lips part in shock, and you then watch everyone stare at Duke Gojo, someone tapping his shoulder then, and he looks to where you’re standing now, amongst the whispers. You expect the same coldness in his gaze as usual, but when his eyes land on you, something in them flickers.

For a moment, he’s stunned, his hand frozen mid-gesture, as they fall slowly, and he slowly walks toward you, as you now nervously fiddle with your own gloves, in front of your lap. You know he’ll try to ruin your confidence, even in this moment where hundreds of people are staring at your gown, your tiara, your beauty, but you know the damage the Duke can do.

He’ll show them what they need, he’ll pretend to hold your hand and smile as if you’re both great, but the coldness he emits will freeze you. He steps up one step now, holding his hand out now, eyes glimmering a shocking blue as he looks every inch of you over, making you nervous. Is he looking for some lack of perfection? Is he looking for something to mock?

“Duchess.” He says hoarsely, clearing his throat, and you hesitantly put your hand in his, gasping a bit when he pulls you towards him, your glittering heels stepping onto the floor below.

“Duke.” You respond, curtseying then, and Duke Gojo bows at the waist, then his lips part, then close. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he leads you to the dance floor now, and the people gush over the two of you.

If only they knew, the real man, that looks so charming and fun, that’s so elegantly holding you at your waist with one hand, the other up, and you put your little one in his, which swallows yours. You suck in a breath as Gojo just stares at you then, as the music starts once more, and everyone’s gaze is on you both.

He begins to lead you into a waltz, elegant in his steps, your heels and his dress shoes clicking and echoing on the floor, as the music softly crescendos, and you’re spinning, in a dance with your fake husband. You keep your eyes affixed to his elegantly tied cravat as your body gets dizzy, as you brace for the blow.

He says your name, and you tense, looking up then. “I hope I am adequate looking tonight, Duke.” You murmur, and he turns you, before pulling you against him, dipping you over his arm, then slowly back up.

“You know what you look like, you had everyone in the room with their mouths open, what do you need a compliment from me?” He says then, through his terse lips, and you scoff, rolling your eyes behind your mask.

“I do not expect one, I expected you to say passable or the like.” You retort, and he laughs, his grip on your waist tightening and making you wince a bit, as his gaze burns you.

“You look… you look…” He sighs then, spinning you once more, and now your back is against him, his hand on your tummy, as one of his hands slides down your cheek, your neck, before spinning you back, your leg over his now. He grips your leg over your skirts, bending you low again, and your breaths come in quick pants.

“Not passable? Oh dear. I’m so sorry, husband.” You whisper, right against his lips, then you smirk at his glare. “I’m sure someone here will call me beautiful.”

Satoru’s grip gets tighter, as everyone starts dancing around you now, and the room is lively again. You see your parents by the buffet with Satoru’s mother and stepdad, watching you all curiously, then when you’re facing Satoru again, his eyes are lidded, snowy white lashes lowered over them. His hand is trembling slightly as it holds onto you.

“Is your lover here?” He demands, and you smile softly.

“How many of your lovers are here?” You counter, earning a scoff.

“Tch, insolent brat.” You scowl.

“Man whore.” He grits his teeth.

“You’re just a whore, then.” Your own eyes narrow as you spin once more, away from him, and he watches you with his fists clenched, as your gown glitters from the chandeliers above, bouncing light all over. You bow down, as does he, then your hands join once more.

“Can’t wait for this dance to end.” You say, and he’s sighing, a hand slipping up your back and making you tremble. “I know you also wish it was done.”

“You think you know me at all?” His voice is softer now, and your eyes lock, as you feel it, something just different now.

“You hate me, so I imagine having me in your arms is quite the task.” He brings you up then, off the ground spinning you, and you hate how you actually enjoy it. “Careful, don’t hurt-”

“You weigh nothing, stupid fucking girl. Less than nothing as you continue to ignore your meals in front of me.” His hiss is dark, and you sigh, looking away.

You realize you’re dragging out that comment, and for once you decide perhaps you should stop, Gojo has not said anything else about it since and you’re making it an ongoing issue, one that’s affecting you severely now. You let your anger consume you.  “Very well, I will stop such comments, I am being…”

“You’re fucking beautiful, the most beautiful thing here.” You step back, nearly falling as your mouth opens wide in shock.

“You can’t just say that, it’s not what you think! You’re such a manipulative, confusing ass of a man.” You stomp on his foot then, and he snarls at you, hopping on a leg.

“You stomp my foot for a bloody compliment? Stupid fucking brat.”

“Yes well it’s false, I like you better when you’re honest.”

“Honest!?”

“Indeed, when you tell me how much I disgust you.” His grip is so brutal you feel it through your layers, as it digs in. “What’s wrong Duke?”

“You know how beautiful you are.” He whispers those words, and they feel foreign from his cold lips, and now the song is changing, but he’s just standing there, holding you for a moment. “Do not play stupid.”

“You ever think you’ve knocked down my thoughts of myself!?” You hiss out the words then, and he looks down, backing away and dropping his hands as if you are a fire that burns him.

“As if you’ll take a compliment from me.”

“Because it’s a lie.”

“It’s not!”

“Hello, love birds.” Comes Satoru’s mother then, elegant in her gown, with her stark white hair flowing down in waves, smiling at you both now. “You’re the prettiest lady I’ve seen, why you rival Her Majesty’s style.”

“Oh thank you, Mama.” You say then, kissing her cheeks, and Satoru is still fuming, fucking glaring at you.

“Satoru. How have you been treating your wife?” She asks then, and Satoru scoffs, opening his mouth, but you cut him off.

“He’s been so kind, Mama, truly.” You say, and Duke Gojo scowls at you now, earning his mother’s confusion. People all around are going to get refreshments, talking and mingling. Satoru’s mother has a confused purse to her lips.

“I’ve heard things, from servants and friends alike. That you two share no room together. That Satoru has live in Mistresses? Plural. This isn’t true, is it?” She demands, and Satoru says nothing, he’s still looking at you with disbelief in his eyes, forcing you to clear your throat, smiling brightly.

“You cannot trust gossip, Mama. Oh, hello Mother, Father!” Your parents come over then, and you hug them both politely, you and your parents had a decent relationship, but not too close. They were very about appearances, and trained you to be as well, it’s partly why you hide emotions so well.

There are no warm smiles, but polite ones, they had never been cruel, just they had not spent much time with you growing up. You were raised by governess, Nannies, and the like. You suppose it’s the way of nobility, but you know if you ever had children it would be very, very different.

“I was just asking how the marriage was, you said it’s going well, Duchess?” Satoru’s Mom asks again, and you nod, grabbing Satoru’s hand, and it’s stiff and unyielding, even when you give him a look behind your mask, he’s still staring at you, not saying a goddamn thing.

“It’s going well, isn’t it dear husband?” You ask, earning his lips parting, then closing, as he sighs. Then his hand enwraps yours, and for a moment you enjoy it, huge, enwrapping your little hand, entwining his fingers with yours. You suck in a breath at how good it feels, and how much you hate it.

Duke Gojo’s POV 

Satoru is holding your delicate little hand in his, and it feels so good he can’t stand it, he can’t take it, how good you smell, how good your skin feels, how breathtaking you are. You’re a vision in this silver, glittery gown, you stand out in this sea of people, a diamond doesn’t even begin to describe you. As he danced he’d seen every set of eyes on you.

Even his mother loves you, everyone does, don’t they? And how can they not, when you smile brightly, those tempting lips hiding your true feelings. You look up at him then, with that lacy mask on your perfect face, only making you sexier, making him fill with want he has to shove down. Your glittery eyes, filled with tears just the other day, look right into his fucking soul.

He squeezes your hand back, watching your breasts heave in your dress, pressed up and delectable in that corset, fuck your body was so beautiful, Satoru couldn’t help but picture you when he fucks his mistress now. Now that he’s tasted you!? He wishes he could every day, fuck he wants to worship you on his goddamn knees.

But he can’t, can he?

Why are you lying for him, after what he’s done, what he’s said!? Saying you’re a pig, when you’re the complete opposite, making you not even eat in front of him. It breaks him, his cruelty and its effects, watching you slimmer and slimmer because he was evil and lied. Even if you’ve forgiven him, how will he forgive himself?

How can he forgive himself for your panic attack when he said the cruelest things, or the wedding night when he smacked your precious face, leaving a huge red hand print? You should hate him, fuck you should hate him more. That was his goal, for you to hate him, and he succeeded. To protect himself, because you look so much like her, so much…

So much like the love of his life that destroyed him. Fuck if you two weren’t related, she was all he could see when he first saw you, at that masquerade years ago, you were young. That night she had destroyed him, that night she had slept right with Satoru’s own father, and fuck if Satoru wasn’t glad that man was dead. She’d had no shame either.

As soon as Satoru became Duke, he sent her far away, and then who’s there but you and you’re the spitting image damn near. You were softer, prettier, not nearly as practiced and seductive, but seeing you had made him sick. Then your confidence and poise made you even more similar to her, she had Satoru ready to destroy the world for her.

He’d spent his entire money on her, he’d given her everything, only to have found her one day with his father, because his father had more money. Satoru had never forgiven him, even on his fucking death bed, and he let his dad know then that he will never give him an heir. That disgusting man had died in horror, and Satoru had just fucking grinned.

But fuck if you’re not more beautiful, and she was a gorgeous girl, but your energy, everything about you makes it worse. Now he knows you have some lover, and it brings it all back, he imagines you riding someone, he imagines you as the one who did that to him, that made him cold. Because of her Satoru closed himself off, drowned himself in alcohol, gambling and whores.

And he was living that life just fine until you.

Now, however, as he sees the dulling of your brightness, he knows what he’s done is so fucking wrong, but he’s too far gone in this, and now you’re rightfully gone. You moved on so quickly, to someone who surely worships you, and Satoru thinks maybe that’s for the best, no chance of you two ever being together, in any way, shape or form.

But when he’d kissed you?

Satoru had never felt anything like it, not when he kissed who he thought he ‘loved’ and Satoru had never tasted anything like your honeyed arousal on his tongue. As a man who gets sucked, who fucks rough, all he can think is having you gush down his mouth, down his tongue, he things of it as he strokes himself after his Mistress failed to make him cum.

He’d snuck in your room and watched you, with tears irritating his blue eyes, as you looked so tiny, so fragile, shivering in the cold. Having to listen to him, having to see him, he’s cruel, he’s terrible. You did nothing to deserve it. And you’re so fucking strong, so composed, so determined, you thrive even as he tried to shoot you down. He can’t even understand you.

It’s too late, isn’t it… and even if not, could Satoru not hate you, when you remind him so much of everything he hates? Could he ever even express an emotion, could he even compliment you, no you think they’re fake, and he understands. Even on your wedding night, looking so beautiful it made him ache, he’d lied, and you’d so easily believed that lie.

Why would you lie for him?

Take the opportunity, let his mother reprimand him, let him be made a fool of, he deserves the worst. Perhaps the worst is just beginning for him, now that he knows you have someone that makes you so happy. Your marks on those lush breasts, your slick wet cunt he knows someone licked, touched before him, it makes him furious, so furious, but he can do nothing.

“Indeed, we are doing well.” Satoru says softly, and you both talk to your family about a dinner coming, before you smile prettily up at Satoru.

“Could we get refreshments? My throat is parched, husband.” You say, and he just nods, leading you to the table where there was punch, and he did not ever wanna let your hand go. But you pull it away, leaving him empty. “I’m sorry, I just needed to get away, you don’t have to get me a drink.”

“Why?” He demands then, fists clenching on either side of him. You blink a bit, before pouring your own drink, Satoru would never even afford you a kindness like that, fuck he treats you like shit, he loathes himself more every moment.

“No need to cause a scene. I figure it best we handle an annulment after some time, especially if you wish to keep my dowry. I know you’re rich, but we technically are even richer.” You sip some lemonade, sighing, and he watches a little droplet fall down, right to your chin. He delicately swipes it off, and watches your intake of breath, your eyes darting to his.

“Why do you care if I have your dowry?”

“I figure it’s why you want to stay married. This gives us both what we want, me my freedom, you the dowry, and you never have to look at me again.” Your words are like a punch to the gut, how cold and detached you sound.

“Freedom to marry?” Satoru asks softly, pouring his own drink with trembling hands, usually so sure, but you have this stupid effect.

“Possibly, one day.” You get a soft, dreamy smile, as the chandeliers reflect off your glowing, soft skin, your gorgeous gown. You look like a Princess, perhaps more beautiful than one, not that he’d say it. Not that you’d want it from his cruel lips. But he knows someone else here will say it, and will whisper it in your delicate little ear.

Fuck he hates himself.

He hates you.

“Married to some baker?” He says, and you giggle then, fuck you’re so bratty, how you’d bragged about your breasts, about cumming, you confused the living fuck out of him. Intrigued him. Filled him with need.

Fuck.

“Maybe, Duke.” You would never call him his name, would you? Well unless you were cooing to your stupid puppy. “I think we’ve made our presence known, we should be free to spend the evening apart.”

He blinks rapidly, as you smile a bit into the crowd, and go to leave, but he stops you with a hand on your little waist, stiff and jeweled in that corset, making you pause, looking up curiously. “You are off to see your lover, like a whore?”

You smile then, that mean little smile that is full of hatred. “I will absolutely see him tonight. When he compliments me, it’s sincere, you know. Not for show.”

“You’re stupid. You’re fucking stupid.” He whispers, earning your glare now, your hand shoving his chest, burning through his dress shirt, starch and stiff. He imagines actually touching you, making love to you, doing the things you would do without him, watching that pretty face cumming? Fuck.…

“Duke Gojo, go have fun yourself, be discreet for appearances please. It’s not like I care. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” You peel his hand off, and it drops, as he turns and watches you glide through the damn crowd, a sea of ladies and gentlemen, and all that stands out is you.

Your skirts swish as your perfect silhouette disappears, and everyone greets you, everyone signs your goddamn dance card, including Suguru, who he knows has it bad for you. Fuck Suguru would have been good for you, but you’re stuck with a man you don’t want, aren’t you?

You don’t want Satoru at all. You’re the only woman who hasn’t. But he pushed you there, and now he has to watch everyone fawn over his wife, a woman he’ll never have, who he didn’t want. A woman he hates, because not just how she looks, how she acts, but what she’s doing, making him feel things he swore he never would, and then when he sees you light up…

That smile brightens the giant ballroom, as you’re in a man’s arms during the next set, a tall blond man with broad shoulders, and he’s grinning along with you, his hand on the small of your back, as the other caresses your cheek for a second. Just a second but he saw it. He sees your blush even far away, how you giggle, how your head tilts to the side.

That’s him, isn’t it?

You will never look at Satoru like that, why would you anyway? What’s he done to make you smile, laugh, or have any joy, all he does and continues to do is treat you like dirt, worse than dirt, kick you down. And you blossom in this man’s arms, and Satoru’s picturing you with him, under him, and it makes him sick.

One of the lady’s he’d fucked a long time ago comes to him now, asking him to sign her dance card, and Satoru decides to throw himself into the dance, to flirt with her, to smirk. To whisper in the shell of her ear, making her shiver as his fingers brush her upper back. Women were games to him, soft and easy, aside from you.

He hates himself.

He hates how you confuse him.

He hates you.

Your POV

Shaking off the very odd interaction with the Duke, you are now dancing in Nanami Kento’s arms, and he has a surprising grace - well was it surprising? - the man exudes elegance. But as a businessman unaccustomed to such events, he is a perfect dancer, and you can’t help but giggle every time he looks at you, earning his soft chuckle as you both turn about the ballroom.

“Imagine seeing you here?” He says then, and you giggle once more.

“Imagine, Mr. Nanami. Meeting here.” You tease back.

“I missed you and it was only a day, sweet girl.” His voice is husky now, and your heart is thudding in your chest, as you melt into the dance, almost tripping over your normally sure feet. Your gloved hand in his clutches tightly, your other hand on his chest, where he wore the most handsome black suit.

“You surely make me a blushing mess.” You say softly, earning a glint in those hazel depths, his big hand tightening just a bit on your waist.

“I’m honored to have such an effect on the most beautiful lady I’ve seen.” You look down a bit, nearly tripping, and he catches you with ease, chuckling a bit. “You surely know you’re a vision tonight.”

“Thank you, Mr. Nanami. You also look quite dashing, you know Sir.” You say now, as he spins you gently, pulling your back against his chest, and then your eyes catch him.

The Duke.

His blue eyes are boring into you across the room, staring straight at you, to the point you can feel that gaze like a brand. He’s dancing with a lovely lady in a white dress and a white mask, and you watch his fingers slip up her back then, as he bends down to whisper in her ear. You blink a bit, taking a breath and then looking away, up at Nanami behind you.

“You are an even more skilled dancer than last time, Sir. Do you have a secret hobby, amongst the rest?” You ask then, teasingly, and Nanami scoffs a bit, spinning you back around, pulling you close for a moment before you both step back. He bows and you curtsey as the song ends.

“No hobby, darling. You give me too much credit.” He goes to touch your hand, then pulls back, realizing he can’t, and you watch his jaw tense, that Adam’s apple bob a bit. You frown.

“I’m sorry you cannot take my hand, Kento.” You whisper, looking away and clutching your layered gown tightly. “It’s selfish you see?”

“Darling, I’ll be fine. You’re not a bit selfish.” You look back to him, as you see his hands open and close at the sides, before they land in his trouser pockets, and your heart aches, your mind swirling in confusion.

As the music starts to die down later that night, and you’ve made several rounds with everyone, currently finishing a set with Lord Geto, you notice the Duke’s eyes on you again as he’s just laughing and leaning against a wall, and the girl is blatantly against him.

“He’s still being terrible, isn’t he? Fuck, any better at all?” You sigh, looking up at Lord Geto, who had danced twice with Lady Shoko, which put quite a smile on your face, but they seemed just friends for now. She had headed home and you two had danced a beautiful quadrille, dancing with Suguru was always so fun.

“He’s slightly better. I suppose. I told him we would annul the marriage in time, and he seemed… angry? It’s hard to understand him.”

“Mmm. I suppose. He’s never really acted this way, aside from a long time ago, he did have someone break his heart. I never met her though.”

“Duke Gojo had a heart?” Geto grins at that, and you both laugh a bit, as he leads you to get a drink, pouring one for you.

“I suppose he did. Here, love.” You take it thankfully, sighing as the cool condensation of the glass hits your lips.

“You’re a gem, Lord Geto.” You say, brushing his shoulder with your hand and smiling brightly.

“And you’re a diamond. Clearly, look at you, glittering everywhere.” You giggle softly, shaking your head.

“That’s sweat, probably, my Lord.” Geto rolls his chocolate eyes with a smirk, and then you pay attention, as the entire masquerade shifts.

People are kissing everywhere, as the music gets heavier, and much of the older ladies and gentlemen leave. This was around the time you had to leave as a young lady, but now you were in full view, as they now brought out several ladies, scandalously dressed and dancing. As the ballroom clears out slowly and others are sneaking into little alcoves.

“Oh… Is this…”  You trail off nervously.

“This is how these tend to go. Horny ton members.” He teases, and then studies your features. “What do you think of such things, Duchess?”

“I’m not quite sure.” You see the dancers saunter by, one comes to you, brushing her pretty nails along your cheek, smiling at you, and making you flush. She then comes to Geto, a hand on his chest, dragging him by his tie. He looks at you, and you wave him off.

“I should stay with you.” He says, and you shake your head with laughter as the dancer pouts.

“You have fun, Lord Geto. Not too much though.” He snorts, finishing his drink and then kissing your hand.

“Find me if you need me, Duchess. Holy… you bend that way!?”

You turn away in a fit of laughter, as alcoholic drinks are now being served, and you can feel the tension in the air as you sip on bubbly champagne. The whispers of scandal and passion whirl in your ears as the music builds to a crescendo, the dancers in the middle of the ballroom now, for all to see, as people in their masks are hiding their identities, kissing in dark shadowy corners.

You see Nanami again, and you walk back over that way, passing Satoru kissing now in his own corner, and you watch his long fingers dance along her waist, and for just a moment you feel them like they’re touching you. His eyes are shut, his pretty face concentrated as her head lolls over to the side, and he’s kissing her neck, before they open, and catch you watching.

You pause, breaths coming in little pants as he pauses his kisses, his hands sliding down her slowly, as he watches you so intently, his eyes going down your body, drinking you inch by inch. You are just frozen, and why? Why do you care, he’s not yours, you don’t want him.

You don’t care.

You don’t.

When he’s grabbing at her ass blatantly, you do look away, walking by quickly, past more and more couples kissing, caressing, sighing. Is this what you missed as a young, unmarried lady, you wonder? Where there were hundreds and hundreds of people, there were about fifty left, and all quite busy.

You hear the rustle of silk and satin mixing with the low murmur of sultry whispers and cries, as you’re right in the middle of it, your heart racing with the thrill of it all, shocked by what you see. But Satoru’s image is burned in your brain, and you fucking hate it. You don’t want him. You don’t care.

He’s disgusting and cruel.

You shake off such an odd feeling, as the night reaches its peak, the music changes, the tempo slowing to a seductive crawl, and it almost gets hard to breath, as you walk over to Nanami now, and he smiles over a glass of neat whiskey, sitting down in one of the arm chairs. He pats his leg, and you look around nervously, slipping off your gloves and clutching them.

“I believe you can feel a bit more free tonight, Darling.” He says, and you nervously sit on one of his thighs, squealing as he pulls you against him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I fear I’ll still be under scrutiny.” You whisper, looking around, but you realize several people aren’t with their partners, some are with multiple partners even, two men kissing on one woman’s neck, two women on one man's lap. “I’m the only one wearing silver, Nanami.”

“Indeed you are.” He chuckles warmly, pulling you down softly, kissing your lips, and you exhale against them, how good it feels. “These events tend to be secret, as they do not wish their secrets shared.”

“You are rather familiar with these, Sir!”

“Mmm, I’ve been to some events with my business.”

“And what is it that you do?” You ask, leaning against him, your fingers brushing up and down his chest. You sip your champagne, and he takes the glass, setting it on the table along with his whiskey, pulling you closer, so close you feel how hot he is, how hard that body is.

“I tend to do a little of everything, up to and including baking cookies with a Duchess. I’m rather important.” You grin then, as your heart swells, as his hands touch you over your layers of gossamer and satin. One hand reaches down and runs up your calf, over your white stockings, and you sigh in pleasure.

“You are important to have such a baking partner, Sir.” His face is more serious now, though, behind that mask that you want to rip off, to see his handsome face, as his hand rests on your thigh, and you feel your core tense, heat building as he’s so, so close to where you’re currently getting wetter and wetter.

“Should I have such an angel on my lap?” He whispers, sliding even further, until he’s right where your lace pantalets sit, and he’s slipping his thumb down into that waistband, watching your every expression. You nervously cling to him, rolling your hips just  a bit, and he exhales. “You’re so wet, darling, is this all for me?”

You hear it then, Nanami clearly wants you for himself, and you know that’s foolish for now, but you want to have that dream, of you and a man that wants you, that is so obsessed with you, and it makes your mind fuzzy as the champagne. You whimper when he finds your clit, rubbing in little circles, between damp folds, and you can barely form a word, clutching onto his shirt tightly.

“It is, Mr. Nanami…”

“Kento.”

“Kento. Mnh! Kento…” You whine out, as he’s rubbing you now with two fingers, flicking back and forth as he plays your cunt in public, right under your pretty ball gown, with your damn husband somewhere. It feels so wanton, so naughty, but so fucking good you’re dripping, craving more and more, gasping as he watches you, hungry eyes glinting in the dark.

“Mmm, so beautiful darling, that face when you feel so good? And it’s me making you feel that way?” He moans softly, the sound does things to you, and you find your lips against him now, pressing so deeply, wanting more, more, more of him, of his sure touch, of his sexy voice.

You gasp when he sinks a finger inside of you, right in this ballroom, and your walls are fluttering around it. “It is, Kento… it is.”

Duke Gojo’s POV

Satoru walks by, as he intends on being alone to rekindle the passionate encounters he and Lady Elaine used to have. She’s married to a rather old man who cannot take care of her needs, who is he not to assist? He’s grabbing a bottle of the finest wine, as he passes by to head up the stairs, then he stops in his tracks.

His heart drops to his stomach, his head pounding with the blood pressure that rises when he sees you, in your gorgeous fucking gown, on that man’s lap. Your slender arms are wrapped around his neck, one hand in his blond locks, and it’s like a stab in the chest, he stops right in his tracks, fuck he wants to grab you by your perfect little neck and yank you off him.

Satoru wants to bend you over something, beat your ass (fuck what does that look like!?) until you sob, pretty tears, then fuck you so good your tiara clatters to the goddamn floor. He wants to fuck you so good you can’t speak, can’t run that mouth, can’t do anything but drool. He wants to kill this man who dares to fucking touch you, wants to kill him right in front of you.

He feels the anger roll through him in waves, hot fury and something else… he’s hard under his trousers, straining against the stiff fabric as he watches your hips roll under those flouncy layers, as he watches your head fall back, and that man kiss your throat. Duke Gojo wants to do that, he wants to kiss you, touch you, so badly precum leaks against his pants.

But he can never have you.

You’re so out of reach, and he caused it all.

The man’s hand, bruised and cut and in no way a gentleman, grabs you so familiarly, the other mysteriously missing, but he watches your skirt rise and fall, then he knows. He’s fingering you wantonly, like you’re some whore, not a whole fucking Duchess, not his wife. He has no care of who sees you like it, and you clearly are enjoying, fuck he can damn near sense your desire.

He remembers it, how hot you got, how wet, only for a moment, glistening out of your perfect pussy, and he craves it so badly he can’t think, how good would it feel inside of you, to break you, to cum inside you? Something Satoru hadn’t done since her, along with licking a woman’s cunt, it’s not that he didn’t love it, it’s that it was too much to bear.

That overwhelming need to have cum spraying on his face again, and with you, who looks just fucking like her. Was he cursed, to not just repeat this vicious memory over and again, but worse, because he needs you more than her even. And he at least had her, for that time, constantly begging her, pleading with her, for affection, for her touches, for her looks.

Satoru was pathetic with her.

Now he’s more pathetic for you.

“Is everything all right, your grace?” Lady Elaine asks softly, and he notices her then, eager and ready to fuck clearly. But all he can think of is tasting you between your thighs, but you have another man’s hand there.

Fuck you, fuck this, fuck his thoughts.

“Nothing is wrong, let’s go, love.” He says softly, yes he calls her love, but he calls you Duchess, or bitch or something cold. Just as you call him Duke, or something colder.

He stomps by, passing you, and you pull your lips off the man long enough to look to him, fuck he’d been fondling Elaine right in front of you, shameless as you looked, with something in your gaze he couldn’t place. Not hurt truly, not even curiosity, what was that look you gave him, burned into his goddamn brain, as he takes her to his room.

Satoru has her naked in quick haste, she has a beautiful body, but for some goddamn reason he thinks of you, he can’t stop thinking of you, wishing he was the one fingering your eager cunt under your skirts. Why, why, why!? Why do you do this to him, you don’t want him, do you? How could you? How could you want him? If you did, it was physical, it was nothing else.

He’s not even good enough for you.

Is anyone good enough to look upon your pretty face, to taste your sweetness, to caress your soft skin? He imagines your eyes looking at him with desire, not with goddamn hatred, as he kisses Lady Elaine, as he slides his fingers into her cunt, which is soaking wet. He wishes it was tighter, like yours, he wishes he could feel it. Would he ever even get to touch you again?

Satoru flips Lady Elaine around, not being able to stand her face, pretty as it was, instead fingering her as she’s face forward against his wall. He’s listening to her moans, they should be sexy, shouldn’t they? Then why does he have to stroke himself, from the base to the tip of his huge cock, as he shuts his eyes and imagines rubbing that tip between your plump lips.

Why does that get him hard, not Lady Elaines’ rather lucious ass pressing out, her head thrown back, as Satoru’s mask brushes against the back of her neck. Why do you torture him existing? He told you, he wishes you didn’t exist, he remembers as he slides into her entrance, and she sucks him in greedily, and Satoru’s hands are on either side of her body as he fucks into her, braced on the cold door of his room.

Do you know you’re all he thinks of as he fucks her pussy?

Would you care?

Why should you?

Will you get fucked tonight, will you lose your innocence to him, to that man that you light up for? Does Satoru have any say in that, when he pushed you there? But the thought crushes him, as he rests his head down on her bare shoulder, as he fucks her against her cervix, and she’s screaming out, cumming all over him. All he thinks of is you.

All he thinks of is how he’s ruined everything.

All he thinks is how he’s a fucking idiot, for fucking this girl he cares nothing for, when he wants you, fuck he wants you. And it just gets worse every moment he breathes, and as he struggles to focus, rubbing her clit in circles, all he can do is imagine your pussy pulsing around him, your wetness down the ridges and veins of his cock, but you’re going to be that way with him that damn man.

Satoru ignores the tears pricking his blue eyes, fucking her harder and harder, chasing a feeling of anything other than you, other than you sitting on that goddamn man’s lap in your beautiful dress.

Your POV

You hate how you feel when you watch Satoru walk by, when you’d seen pain in his goddamn gaze, and for what!? It’s not as if he doesn’t have another woman he’s with, what’s this four in the short time you’ve had the unfortunate circumstance of being his ‘wife’. What did it matter you finally had some pleasure, with a man who cherishes you, who plays you so well.

You turn back to Nanami, eyes fluttering shut as he crooks his fingers up, and you’re so close you hold back, gasping, thighs tightening around his hand. “Mr. Nanami… somewhere private?”

“Of course, Darling. I got carried away.” He says softly, inhaling, pulling his hands out of you and helping you stand up. “It’s your home, Duchess. Where to?”

“My chambers, if you’re comfortable? Is it too… mad?” You ask softly, and he cups your face, bending down, his mask brushing right against yours as you both stand in the ballroom.

“Of course not, darling. You lead the way.” You take his hand, biting your lower lip nervously as you lead him through the corridors, up the winding staircases to where you must pass Satoru’s chambers to get to you own, hearing loud moans of a woman. You ignore whatever you feel, continuing to pull Nanami into your room, alone, shutting the door behind you.

You both stand there, breathless now, and your lips brush back against each other, the kiss is soft at first, tentative, then it deepens, growing more passionate and desperate with each passing second. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you can feel the thump of his heart against your chest, echoing the rhythm of yours, his hands roaming your body.

Nanami Kento pulls back, sucking in a breath, and taking off your mask carefully, licking his glossy lips and exhaling. “You’re so beautiful, darling. I feel I’m having another dream, in my Duchess chambers.”

“Oh, Kento…” You take his mask off gently, heart racing as you feel heat washing through you, along with the alcohol spreading heat in your body.

“What does my darling want? I’m at your command.” Nanami’s handsome face looks down at you, and you take a shaky breath, sliding your hands up his strong shoulders.

“Your darling would like to see you. Please.” He steps back, and you’re eagerly helping him undress, taking off his suit jacket, then his vest and shirt, until he’s bare chested, and he’s gorgeous. You feel your tummy tighten as you look at him, so built like a statue of a god, muscles thick and sinewy under golden skin. “Oh my, Kento you’re so beautiful.”

“Me, Duchess? You.” He huskily says, pulling you against him, bending low and kissing you, as you feel his hands unlacing your corset deftly. You soon are just in your skirts, which he gently takes off with great care, leaving you in pantalets and a chemise. “Darlin, look at you.”

“I see you, Kento, I see you.” He blinks a bit, gulping audibly, before pressing you against the door of your own room, you feel the cold wood press against your back as he slips down to his knees, and you gasp as he pulls your pantalets down.

“And I see you, darling. So wet, so ready. Do you want to cum on my mouth again?” He asks, and you whimper then, nodding eagerly, clinging your hands to bare, hot shoulders.

“I want to make love, Nanami.”

“Darling…”

“You’ll make me wait? Not at my command?” You feel his chuckle against your inner thigh.

“I’ll let you go further tonight, but not just yet. Let me enjoy my time?” You nod then, embarrassed you’re so eager, as you look at his handsome face and he’s pushing your chemise, silky up your thighs, and pulling a thigh over his shoulder. “Good girl.”

Good girl!?

You can’t take it, as soon as his tongue slides up your slit, you’re screaming out, moaning so loud it’s ridiculous, you’re so ready you can’t stand it. And Nanami is staring up at you, pulling back and grinning. “Darling, your husband is next door.”

“Shit.”

“You cuss like a man.” He kisses your clit, and you struggle not to scream out again, but you fail.

“He doesn’t care.”

“Mmm, let’s be a little quiet, wild girl.” You nod then, and he’s drinking you up now, your wetness pouring into his hot mouth, and your eyes roll back, toes curling in those glittery heels you still have on, rolling your hips for more. Nanami eagerly licks and sucks your little clit into his mouth, and you struggle not to scream, but fuck it feels so good.

Duke Gojo’s POV

Are you moaning in there!?

He hears you, wanton little whore that you are, he wants to be the one that makes you cum, fuck he’d make you cum so good you’d forget whatever he has done, you’d know nothing. You wouldn’t speak, if he had time with you, you wouldn’t even make those little moans, you’d be screaming.

Satoru is still pumping in and out of Lady Elaine, on her hands and knees in his bed, he’d been going at it for some time, but now he’s furious. How dare you be moaning with another man, what are you doing, and would he ever get a fucking chance to try?

How could he when he’s still inside a woman.

He’s no better than you, no he’s worse.

The tragedy of listening to you and picturing you just makes him fuck her harder, as her moans grow loud in the room, do you hear in your chambers he wonders, do you even care? Do you care about anything but surely dripping out cum down another man’s mouth, or worse?

Fuck he hates his thoughts, why are they always of you!?

Your POV

You hear Satoru’s moans as you’re pressed against the door, as Nanami is working on you, but you shove them out of your mind, what do you care, Satoru is no matter, not when you’re cumming so good. Not when you’re shattering over Nanami’s handsome face, knees so weak he has to catch you so you don’t fall as you scr4eam out your climax.

“Kento!” You cry out loudly, and Kento moans softly, pulling back, standing and kissing you deeply, and you flip him then, pressing him against the door.

“Darling?”

“My turn.” You unbuckle his leather belt, and he’s breathing heavy, thick muscled chest rising up and down as you work him, as you push down his trousers, your eyes locking on his.

“Darling…”

“I know you won’t make love to me yet, but will you let me pleasure you? Please?” You ask softly, and his cheeks are flushed and his eyes dark with lust, and he nods a bit, making you smile softly.

“Wanton girl, you’ll end me.” You giggle softly, as his pants fall away, revealing his cock, it’s huge and thick, with a reddened tip that’s leaking something white and pearly on the tip, and you bite your lip at the sight, your pussy clenching with anticipation.

“Kento… you’re so…”

“You don’t have to-”

“No, no. It’s so big.” You say, blushing yourself, stroking him hesitantly, watching him suck in a breath, clinging to you.

“Fuck, let’s have you sit, I don’t want your knees hurt?” You think of that then, of Satoru’s mistress sucking him on her knees, and it fills you with something you hate. You lead him to the bed, and sit on it, looking up at him now, hands clutching your red silk blankets.

"Show me what to do, please?"

Kento nods, his hand reaching out to guide your head. “Open your mouth, darling.” He orders softly, and you obey, earning a moan. “I’m dreaming. Okay darling, lick and suck what you can, if it’s too much, tap my thigh. Yes?”

You nod eagerly, tongue out and ready, and soon he’s guiding his tip in, and you’re taking his length in, feeling the heat and the velvet of his skin on your tongue. He groans, a sound that goes straight to your core, making you want to do more, making you want to make him feel as good as he’s made you feel.

“Fuck… darling don’t go too deep.” You pull back a bit, suction popping as you let go for a moment.

“You taste good, Kento.”

Nanami moans, bending down to kiss you for a moment, cupping your face, hands rough. “Darling you’re so perfect, fuck. We can stop here.”

“No, please. Please.” He nods then, opening your mouth with two fingers, shoving his thick cock back in you.

“Play with yourself, darling.” You look up, eyes wide, pulling back again.

“Um…”

“Oh fuck… rub it like I rub you?” You nervously slide up your chemise, finding your clit and whining out, so sensitive it twitches. “That’s it, that’s my girl.”

He shoves his cock back in, and you take more of him in, looking up at him, seeing the desire and pleasure on his handsome face, his cheeks hollowing as he’s stroking your hair now, his eyes on yours as he watches you suck him off. It’s oddly intimate, it feels so good to pleasure him you’re wet again.

Is this what that girl did to Satoru?

You hear him, Satoru is moaning again.

Your tummy clenches as you ignore it, as you focus on sucking Nanami, and your finger circling your clit, struggling to take more. “Breathe through your nose, darling.”

You follow his instruction, and your eyes water as you suck, but you keep going, because you want to please him, you want to feel him come apart in your mouth, like he’s done to you. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, stroking as you suck, and he’s bucking into your mouth, his hips jerking, as he groans.

“Darling you’re so good at this, fuck. Fuck… darling, I’m close.”

You pull back, shaky. “Can I drink you, like you do me?”

“I’m dreaming, fuck maybe I’ve died.” You giggle then, a bit breathless, still rubbing your clit, as he pulls your hair, still clad with that tiara, heavy on your head, on your heart. “You can, but if you don’t enjoy it, please tell me.”

“I am sure I will.” He’s back in your mouth, and you’re rubbing faster, until you’re cumming from your own touch, and he’s groaning, fucking your mouth, but it’s different than you saw with Satoru, he’s gentle, he’s soft, he’s caring.

Satoru…

Fuck Satoru.

“I’m cumming, darling, ah- fuck…” Nanami groans then, pulling back a bit, then your mouth is filled with thick, salty liquid. You choke a bit at first, but suck it all down, feeling his tip quivering, and he’s groaning, his handsome face contorted in pleasure, stong hands shaking. “Darling… oh my god…”

“Was it good?” You ask after a moment, coughing a bit and swiping your lips, your answer is him on top of you, pressing you into the mattress, kissing you over and over, fingering you again, with two fingers. “Kento!”

“Good!? Good? No. Perfect.”

Perfect.

Hmm.

Why does this word hurt?

“Kento… Kento!” You’re whimpering and oversensitive, as he pumps his fingers, looking down into your eyes. “Please… inside me.”

“Not yet, but soon. I promise. I want you to be sure.” You sigh, shakily nodding, and he’s fingering you harder, scissoring in and out until you’re screaming out, as he’s kissing you, drinking your every cry, until you’ve soaked him. Soon he’s easing out, and his breaths are labored as he caresses your cheek. “Jesus, you’re too good for this Earth.”

“I’m not, I absolutely just sinned so many sins.” He laughs, his sexy little laugh, his handsome grin that fills you with warmth.

“Too angelic looking to be a real sinner.”

“Indeed, Sir!”

Soon you’re in your night shift, and Nanami is back dressed, and you’re seeing him out, kissing him over and over. “I’ll dream of you until we meet again.”

“As will I, Kento.” You say softly, and he is hugging you so tightly, as you walk out into the cold halls, and Kento bows to you, as he walks away, a distant shadowy figure. You take several breaths, tasting him still on your tongue, leaning your back against the hallway walls, struggling to come to.

You’re buzzed, you’d sucked a man, you’d wanted to go even further… what were you doing?

Was it the right thing?

You enjoyed it so much, but something gnaws at you, as the door to Satoru’s room opens, and he steps out, sweaty and shirtless. You stand there, still, as his eyes meet yours in the night. You both just stand there, staring at each other, and you expect him to call you a whore, to say his nasty fucking words. But he doesn’t, he walks to you, he presses you into that wall, leaning over you.

You just look up at him, eyes wide, and his blue eyes torturously analyze you, emotions making them glossy, as he then punches that wall next to you, chest shaking as he lets out a shaky breath. And you touch his bare chest, nails digging in, as you stare up at him, tears pricking your eyes, as you know what he’s done, and what you have done.

Both of you shouldn’t care.

What’s it matter?

Why can’t you breathe around him!?

“Did you have a good night, Duke?” You whisper, earning his broken laugh, as he leans down and cups your face, tears on his long white lashes.

“Did you, Duchess?” He asks, so soft it’s like it’s not his voice, and you just look away, unable to face those brilliant, insane blue eyes.

“Good night, Duke.” You say then, turning, and opening your door knob, for him to grab you by the waist, shoving you against him, and your head leans back, as you eagerly rock against him. You hate it, your reaction, as he’s sobbing against your ear, as you’re sobbing against the cold night air.

“Good night?” He whispers brokenly, and you just nod, shoulders shaking. “Good night… good night!?” He’s pulling your hair, as he’s pressing you so hard against him you can’t fucking breathe, you are so consumed by him, you’d bend over right here and have him fuck into you.

What’s wrong with you!?

You can never!

“Yes… um… is something…”

“Wrong? Everything’s fucking wrong. I can only imagine licking your perfect cunt as I’m fucking her. I can’t get you out of my goddamn head.” He curses, sliding your chemise up and you’re trembling, thighs shaking. “Please just let me taste you, please… just once. Please.”

At his begging, at his insane desire, you just nod then, spreading your thighs, this is insane, it’s insane… “Taste me, then.”

“Fuck.” He’s swirling his fingers along your clit, and you damn near cum from that, throbbing so hard it hurts, as Satoru Gojo’s fingers shove up into you, and all you can imagine is his cock, and you’re crying out, trembling, as he moans. “Fuck, fuck I hate you.”

“I h-hate you too. I do. Fuck!” You’re grinding your cunt on his hand, and he’s so hard against you back, as he’s pulling his fingers out then, and you bend over, gasping as you turn, watching him suck you off his fingers, closing his pretty eyes, white lashes fluttering.

“Goddammit. Goddammit.” He curses, shoving you against the wall now, and you look up at him in shock. “Fuck you, Duchess.”

“Fuck you! Fuck you, Satoru!” He pauses then.

“Satoru?”

“Duke. Duke Gojo. Fuck you.” You shove more and more, and he moans, resting his head on yours before he disappears into his room, and you’re left in shock, in confusion, in disgust.

What is this?

Who is he!?

Who are you.

Enjoy the shitshow, dear Masochistic readers.

Part 6 here

[literatureloverx]

Not necessarily about shipping, but what are your favorite relationship tropes/personalities you like to see in media or portrayed in general? And do they manifest in your writing or the characters you have interest in?

Hello, my dear! ❤️ What an intriguing question.

Yes, I do have some favorites. I enjoy academic rivals-to-lovers / enemies to lovers and soulmate stories.

Do they appear in my writing? I think so. I tend to over-romanticise meaningful relationships because of that. I believe a soulmate connection isn't limited to romantic relationships but can take various forms, including our best friends, parents, or siblings. It could be anyone, and I believe it truly exists. ❤️

Although not exactly academic rivals-to-lovers, some of my favorites in media are Kate and Anthony Bridgerton from Bridgerton and Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. There are many soulmate tropes I love, but one that comes to mind is Kamisama Kiss. Tomoe and Nanami left a significant impact on me when I was 13, and I would rewatch it anytime.❤️

[dreamscribee]

🪼 A Heartfelt Thank You and a Fun Poll for What's Next! 🪼

Hey everyone! ˙ᵕ˙

I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all for the incredible love and support on my posts. It truly makes me happy as I embark on this journey of writing short stories/imagines. As someone who reads these kinds of stories daily, I got inspired to write my own. My goal is to provide you with a little escape from reality, time after time, and let you live your dream life with your favorite characters.

To keep the inspiration flowing, I want to hear from YOU! Who should I write about next? Cast your vote in the poll below and let me know who you’d like to imagine yourself with. Your input means the world to me, so keep spreading the love and share your thoughts!

𐙚 Ps: Also, feel free to message me if you have any requests for specific characters. Sometimes I get stuck on one and find it hard to write about someone else, so keep in mind that most of the time, I'm available and will gladly read any messages sent to me.