#china coffee set

[winsome-tea]

unidentified tea cup, marked as unavailable on etsy

[jolaunay]

Antiquing Adventures - Bring out the good china!!!

Well, it's been a while since I posted anything about my latest finds... I went to Brimfield last week - it is the biggest antiquing event in the New England area. Didn't get to find much, unfortunately... I think I'm becoming too picky and hard to impress. I'm trying to find items that come as a set or go with a certain era that will complement the things that I already have. Recently, I've been trying to educate myself about good quality porcelain - there's so much to look for! Here's one of my best finds ever:

This is a hand painted demi-tasse set. I think this is an espresso set? Similar stuff is also listed as "hot chocolate set" on ebay, so I'm not really sure. It has the "rising sun" mark at the bottom. I did some research and found out that this could be early Noritake, made between 1890-1930s. It's in great condition with no chips or cracks, probably never even used once!

This is a beautiful hand painted plate made in Austria. It's gonna go on my kitchen wall 😍

[aestheticcrockery]

The Best Crockery in Pakistan: Aesthetic Crockery

The Best Crockery in Pakistan: Aesthetic Crockery

Crockery is more than just a kitchen essential; it’s a statement of your style, taste, and the love you pour into hosting family and friends. In Pakistan, where food is a cultural centerpiece, the right crockery can elevate your dining experience. Aesthetic Crockery, a trusted name in the industry, offers a diverse range of premium kitchenware and dining sets that blend functionality with elegance. From tea sets to non-stick cookware, Aesthetic Crockery is redefining the art of dining and kitchen essentials.

The Evolution of Crockery in Pakistan

The love for crockery in Pakistan is deeply rooted in tradition. Over the years, the market has evolved to meet modern needs while preserving cultural heritage. Today, a variety of crockery options are available, including tea sets, coffee sets, dinner sets, cooking ware, and hotpots. Aesthetic Crockery stands out for offering high-quality, stylish, and durable products that cater to every occasion, whether it’s a casual family meal or an elaborate dinner party.

Types of Crockery Offered by Aesthetic Crockery

Aesthetic Crockery is a one-stop destination for all your crockery needs. Let’s explore some of their best offerings:

1. Tea Sets

Tea is an integral part of Pakistani culture, and serving it in a beautiful tea set enhances the experience. Aesthetic Crockery offers a wide range of tea sets that combine traditional designs with modern aesthetics. Crafted from high-quality porcelain and ceramic, these sets are perfect for daily use and special occasions.

2.��Coffee Sets

Coffee lovers can elevate their caffeine rituals with Aesthetic Crockery’s elegant coffee sets. Featuring sleek designs and durable materials, these sets are ideal for hosting guests or enjoying a quiet moment of indulgence.

3. Dinner Sets

Aesthetic Crockery’s dinner sets are designed to impress. Available in various designs, including floral patterns, minimalist styles, and bold contemporary prints, these sets are perfect for enhancing the look of your dining table. Each piece is crafted with precision to ensure durability and aesthetic appeal.

4. Cooking Ware

Cooking ware is an essential part of every kitchen, and Aesthetic Crockery ensures you have the best tools at your disposal. Their non-stick cookware is a game-changer, making cooking healthier and cleaning easier. From frying pans to saucepans, their range meets all your culinary needs.

5. Non-Stick Crockery

Non-stick crockery has become a household favorite due to its convenience and health benefits. Aesthetic Crockery offers high-quality non-stick products that make cooking a delight while maintaining food quality and reducing oil consumption.

6. Hotpots

Keep your meals warm and fresh with Aesthetic Crockery’s hotpots. Available in various sizes and designs, these hotpots are perfect for family gatherings and festive occasions.

7. Water Bottles and Water Sets

Staying hydrated has never been more stylish. Aesthetic Crockery’s range of water bottles and water sets combines practicality with elegance. Made from BPA-free materials, these bottles and sets are safe, durable, and visually appealing.

Why Choose Aesthetic Crockery?

Here’s what makes Aesthetic Crockery a top choice for customers in Pakistan:

Quality Assurance: Each product undergoes rigorous quality checks to ensure durability and reliability.

Stylish Designs: Aesthetic Crockery offers a wide range of modern and traditional designs to suit every taste.

Affordability: High-quality crockery at competitive prices makes them accessible to everyone.

Eco-Friendly Options: Their commitment to sustainability is evident in their use of eco-friendly materials.

Customer Satisfaction: Aesthetic Crockery is known for its excellent customer service and attention to detail.

Tips for Choosing the Best Crockery

When selecting crockery, consider the following tips to make the best choice:

Material: Choose materials like ceramic, porcelain, or stainless steel based on your needs and preferences.

Design: Opt for designs that complement your kitchen and dining room decor.

Functionality: Ensure the crockery meets your requirements, whether for daily use or special occasions.

Durability: Invest in crockery that is sturdy and long-lasting.

Ease of Maintenance: Look for products that are easy to clean and maintain.

Where to Buy Aesthetic Crockery

Aesthetic Crockery products are available online and in select retail stores across Pakistan. Their user-friendly website makes it easy to browse and order your favorite items from the comfort of your home. Additionally, their social media platforms provide updates on new arrivals and exclusive deals.

Conclusion

Crockery is an essential part of every home, and Aesthetic Crockery’s wide range of products ensures you have everything you need to create memorable dining experiences. Whether you’re looking for a stunning tea set, a versatile dinner set, or durable cooking ware, Aesthetic Crockery is your go-to brand in Pakistan. Explore their collection today and bring elegance and functionality to your kitchen and dining table.

[mohulu]

They don't prepare you for how your brain changes in your mid 20s one minute you're thinking about going out and getting drunk, the next you're in the charity shop salivating over tea sets from the 1950s

[macmasterandcompany]

This Teacup and Saucer Set is part of the magnificent Shelley Fine Bone China Pattern dinnerware set. This pattern design was created before 2000.

The Tea set features a trendy design. It is in excellent condition and looks new, with no chips, cracks, or crazing.

You can take advantage of this great vintage set.

👉 Visit Our ETSY STORE - MacMasterAndCompany

[goodearth200]

coffee mug set

Discover the perfect coffee mug set to elevate your mornings at GoodEarth Living. Explore our Drinkware & Bar category and find a curated selection of mugs that blend style and functionality seamlessly. Choose from an array of meticulously designed options, each crafted to enhance your coffee experience and add a touch of charm to your daily routine.

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week

1. ‘We are just getting started’: the plastic-eating bacteria that could change the world

In 2016, Japanese scientists Oda and Hiraga published their discovery of Ideonella sakaiensis, a bacterium capable of breaking down PET plastic into basic nutrients. This finding marked a shift in microbiology's perception, recognizing the potential of microbes to solve pressing environmental issues.

France's Carbios has successfully applied bacterial enzyme technology to recycle PET plastic waste into new plastic products, aligning with the French government's goal of fully recycling plastic packaging by 2025.

2. HIV cases in Amsterdam drop to almost zero after PrEP scheme

According to Dutch AIDS Fund, there were only nine new cases of the virus in Amsterdam in 2022, down from 66 people diagnosed in 2021. The organisation claimed that 128 people were diagnosed with HIV in Amsterdam in 2019, and since 2010, the number of new infections in the Dutch capital has fallen by 95 per cent.

3. Cheap and drinkable water from desalination is finally a reality

In a groundbreaking endeavor, engineers from MIT and China have designed a passive solar desalination system aimed at converting seawater into drinkable water.

The concept, articulated in a study published in the journal Joule, harnesses the dual powers of the sun and the inherent properties of seawater, emulating the ocean’s “thermohaline” circulation on a smaller scale, to evaporate water and leave salt behind.

4. World’s 1st drug to regrow teeth enters clinical trials

The ability to regrow your own teeth could be just around the corner. A team of scientists, led by a Japanese pharmaceutical startup, are getting set to start human trials on a new drug that has successfully grown new teeth in animal test subjects.

Toregem Biopharma is slated to begin clinical trials in July of next year after it succeeded growing new teeth in mice five years ago, the Japan Times reports.

5. After Decades of Pressure, US Drugmaker J&J Gives Up Patent on Life-Saving TB Drug

In what can be termed a huge development for drug-resistant TB (DR-TB) patients across large parts of the world, bedaquiline maker Johnson and Johnson said on September 30 (Saturday) that it would drop its patent over the drug in 134 low- and middle-income countries (LMICs).

6. Stranded dolphins rescued from shallow river in Massachusetts

7. ‘Staggering’ green growth gives hope for 1.5C, says global energy chief

The prospects of the world staying within the 1.5C limit on global heating have brightened owing to the “staggering” growth of renewable energy and green investment in the past two years, the chief of the world’s energy watchdog has said.

Fatih Birol, the executive director of the International Energy Agency, and the world’s foremost energy economist, said much more needed to be done but that the rapid uptake of solar power and electric vehicles were encouraging.

---

That's it for this week :)

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Buy me a coffee ❤️

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[lathrine]

oh! i can explain this!

these are both coffee pots:

the first (obviously) is a modern stand brewer and glass carafe. this is what most people have, use, and are familiar with (if they dont have Keurig).

the second is a ceramic coffee pot, which you could either brew directly into with pour-over or use as a carafe for pre-brewed coffee. it looks a lot like a teapot, with the exception that its much taller and narrower to help with temperature regulation.

while in DAtVG it's called an "Antivan Tea Set", the intention is likely a tea and coffee set. this is supported by how we see Lucanis use teacups for his coffee in-game, and how at the Treviso cafe it's served (iirc) with teacups and saucers.

for someone from Fantasy Italy who drinks a lot of coffee for trauma reasons, a very nice fine china tea and coffee set would be a lovely gift! it's a luxury item, and elevates something Lucanis consumes for survival purposes.

okay, but why is the gift for Lucanis (you know, the biggest coffee addict in the whole of Thedas) a freaking TEA SET?! Somebody explain the logic to me, please because I don't see it

[beloveds-embrace]

(Part two of this: “house-trained” simon riley)

The second visit to Ghost’s cozy cottage started with the same mixture of disbelief and awe as the first. The team once again found themselves surrounded by pastel walls, cheerful flower boxes, and an overwhelming sense of warmth that clashed with every preconceived notion they’d had about their masked lieutenant, but at least this time it was a mere courtesy visit and without the worries of needing to stay hidden hanging over them.

The morning began with the usual spectacle: Simon quietly, happily obeying your every request without a care about his team’s amused stares.

“Si, love, could you grab the butter from the fridge?”

Simon stood immediately, massive frame moving through the delicate kitchen with surprising ease. He returned with the butter in hand and set it on the counter, earning a soft, “Thank you, darling.” And a gentle kiss to his temple.

Soap snorted from the couch, where he was wrapped in one of your soft, pastel-colored blankets. He loved them- had spent the entire time before having one on his shoulders, and this time it’d been the first thing he asked for. “Still can’t believe this is you, L.T.”

“Believe it.” Simon replied flatly, brushing his hand against the small of your back as he walked by.

But this time, you didn’t stop with Simon.

“Johnny?” You called sweetly, stepping into the living room with a tray in hand.

Soap looked up, a crumb of your delicious cookies already on his chin. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” You giggled, setting the tray on the coffee table. “Would you mind fluffing the pillows for me? They’re looking a bit flat.”

Soap blinked, still not sure he heard right. “You’re asking me to- ?”

“I would ask Simon, of course,” you said innocently, a little pout on your lips. “But he’s busy getting the sugar for tea. You’re not busy, are you?”

Caught in your warm, expectant gaze, Soap sighed, tossing the blanket aside (gently) with a dramatic groan. “Fine, fine, hen. I’ll fluff your bloody pillows.”

“Thank you, Johnny!” You beamed.

Gaz laughed as Soap began half-heartedly fluffing the floral cushions, grumbling under his breath the entire time- though they were all light grumbles.

“You’ll get used to it.” Simon said dryly, walking past with a jar of sugar in hand. “Good on her for not having you just sit on your arse.”

“Gaz,” you said brightly, then, turning your attention to him. “Do you mind helping me bring in the tea trays? I’ve got too much to carry, and I’d hate to make Simon do it all.”

Gaz stood at attention at your call of his name, caught off guard. “I- yes, Ma’am.”

You led him into the kitchen, where a tray laden with delicate china teacups and a teapot sat waiting. “Careful,” you said gently, placing another tray of sandwiches into his hands. “These teacups are my grandmother’s, and they’re quite old.”

You got them from a thrift shop, but who said you can’t have a little fun?

Gaz nodded earnestly, gripping the tray with the utmost care- as if it was a secret weapon, or a file with the most important information recorded on earth. He carried it like he was on a mission. When he re-entered the living room, Soap was still fluffing pillows, now with exaggerated vigor, muttering. “Is this fluffy enough for ya, lass?”

“Perfect, thank you.” You said as you placed a small vase of flowers on the coffee table. “Oh, Captain?”

Price looked up from where he’d been lounging by the window, his hands resting comfortably on his knees. He’d been amused at how you basically commanded his men, but now that your attention was on him…

“Would you mind slicing the lemon for the tea?” you asked softly and sweetly, holding out a small knife and a lemon. “Your hands look steady. I want good, even slices, please. You seem like the type to do it properly the first time.”

Caught between amusement and curiosity, Price rose from his seat and took the knife and lemon from you. He stood by the kitchen counter, slicing perfect, even rounds of lemon while Simon watched from his chair, clearly enjoying the sight of even his commanding officer being gently bossed around.

By the time the tea was ready, Soap had been roped into setting the table with floral plates and napkins (“Really? Floral?”

“Why not? The blankets you like so much also have floral designs!”)

Gaz was carrying plates of cheeses and olives with the care of a man defusing a bomb, and Price was pouring tea into delicate porcelain cups like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You floated through the room with a soft, effortless authority, gently directing each of them like it was second nature.

“Johnny, could you fetch the coasters from the drawer? I don’t want the table getting scratched.”

“Kyle, do you mind straightening that picture frame? It’s a little crooked.”

“Captain, would you light that candle? It’s my favorite scent, and I think you’d like it too.”

And somehow, none of them could say no to you. Not like they even considered it.

By the time everyone was seated, Simon pulled out your chair for you, his large hand resting briefly on your shoulder before he sat beside you. Soap stared at the table, now perfectly set and adorned with delicate tea accoutrements, and declared: “I think we just got outmaneuvered by a woman in a cardigan.”

“Outclassed, more like.” Gaz added, reaching for the olive oil and za’atar plate.

But when you turned that radiant smile on them, warmly thanking them for their help, none of them could bring themselves to mind. And with Simon watching as well, none of them even dared to mind.

[timmydraker]

Tim doesn’t drink coffee, but he drinks tea.

So, so much tea.

He’s not a casual tea drinker, he doesn’t just have a stash of sugar and earl grey at his desk with a few mugs at the ready.

No, Timothy Drake has over sixteen seperate kettles and tea sets in his room. Some are china, some are vintage, some are shaped like flowers or frogs or painted with a Vincent Van Gogh style over it. Some only have one cup and saucer, some have enough for a tea party. Some are so old they’re are chipped and faded. Some are so new they haven’t been used and are still set up nicely in a display case.

That’s just the carrier of the tea, but the flavours he has on hand…

He has English breakfast, he has Merlot, he had Green Tea, Herbal, Black Current, Lemon, Chamomile, Honey, Mint, Butterfly Pea, African Solstice, Cherry, Chocolate, everything! If you can think of it or have heard of it somewhere before, he has it.

Every knows that he drinks the, they see him with a cup near constantly and he even has a keep cup for when he’s patrolling.

But not even knows exactly how deep his obsession goes.

Alfred does, because he once had to listen to Tim talk about how you can’t rank read through taste alone but also process and how it works with sugar and milk and sweetener after the older man made the mistake of saying he thought English Breakfast was best.

Bruce knows because he once threatened to confiscate Tim’s tar strainers if he didn’t get some rest and witnessed how hard Tim Drake can tweak firsthand.

Barbara knows because she once accidently broke a cup when she backed into a table with her chair and, while Tim was understanding it was an accident, she had to watch him go through the stages of grief in real time. The kid had openly mourned the cup that had been shaped like an apple as if it was a loved one and she swore not to touch them again lest she cause another funeral.

Yet, even though not even has seen the dozens of cases and cabinets he has to organise his tea leaves and dishes, there is one thing that everyone has a deep understanding of.

If Tim lets you use a cup, he sees you as someone to trust. He thinks you’re reliable and trustworthy enough to touch something fragile and valuable to him.

But if he serves you tea himself, from his own personal collection?

You aren’t just loved by him, you aren’t just his family, but you have single handedly gained one of the biggest allies you will ever have.

[winsome-tea]

Unidentified Marked Chocolate Pot

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you

♔ Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, mentions of disordered eating of the reader and past emotional abuse, Satoru doesn't really help how he should but his dumbass tries, heavy angst, jealousy, smacking, Duke Gojo is becoming pathetic, lots of begging, heartfelt chap, cunnilingus, fingering, toxic attraction, Gojo is toxic. OOC. ANGST. SO MUCH TENSION.

♔ Word count this chap: 9.7k

♔ 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

(taglist open/Comments/ reblogs always appreciated 🥰

Part Five - Masterlist - Playlist

Part Six- Dinner is just a Masquerade

Satoru sits right across from you, glaring as you sit there in your chair, sipping on black coffee from a delicate china, and not touching your plate. You do eat of course, but you refuse to do so in front of him, even after he’d said it was false, you were too nervous. You’d always been a peckish little eater, and your parents praised that, so many people praised your impeccable manners at the table.

Your arms rest just so on the edge of the table, your pinky sits up so high as you take a sip, you know just how many times to chew to seem as if you’re enjoying a dish. You know all the etiquette, and you know how to keep from gaining weight, or to quickly slim if you catch the slightest ounce, you know how to keep healthy enough without looking overly indulgent.

For once, you’d just enjoyed a damn dish, you figured you did not need to impress Duke Gojo, after all he said he’d never want you. But the comment had triggered something you don’t quite like. Aside from Nanami stuffing your mouth full of delicious cookies, you’ve not eaten too much, it’s almost like a control you feel you need, but you must admit, you’re starving right now.

You have fluffy scones, tea and biscuits, and you’re just sipping this coffee, hoping it eases your throat. Duke Gojo slams his hands on the table then, picking up a scone and striding to you, yanks you by your hair. You gasp at the sensation, smacking at his big, stupid hands as he bends low over you.

“Get your damn hands off me.” You bite out, grabbing at his strong wrists and pulling at them, digging your long nails in his skin.

“You’ll fucking eat something, goddamn brat. Open your mouth.” He bends low and you grit your teeth, brows low as you scowl right back at his pretty face, as he’s trying to shove a scone in your mouth.

“Excuse me- ah!” He’s shoved it now, shoving your mouth closed by your jaw, and you’re forced to chew the sweet thing. He leans close to you, thumb brushing against your lower lip, staring at you with swirling blue eyes, so intense you shut your own, chewing it slowly.

You swallow it down, only for him to open your mouth more gently, and it does something to your tummy you hate, this feeling, it’s not butterflies like Nanami, no it’s brutal moths flying violently, and you detest it. You detest that you take another bite of scone for him, finishing it, licking your lower lip and sucking in a breath, your eyes locked on him.

“I should have never said that.” He sits on the table, most casual for him as he’s typically as formal as can be, his thighs spread far too wide and making you remember seeing him. You blush furiously, sipping your coffee then carefully.

“I have forgiven you, Duke. I am not much of an eater anyway.”

“It’s what I said, and I know it’s why you’re wasting away.” He grabs your wrist, wrapping his hand around it gently, an odd sensation and it feels so intense from what you’re used to.

“I’m still a healthy size-”

“For now. Please fucking eat. I know I’m horrible, I know you hate me, I know you owe me no kindness…” You hear his usually cruel voice break, and you struggle to keep your breaths steady, as he caresses your jaw in a way he shouldn’t. “Just don’t let me be the cause of this.”

“Why do you care? You’re so bloody confusing.” You pop another one in your mouth though, and watch his exhale in relief, running a hand through his silky white hair, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I wanted you to hate me, not hurt yourself.” You blink, looking up again.

“Well, you succeeded in me hating you.” You finish chewing and dab your mouth with the handkerchief, an action Satoru’s insane eyes follow.

“I know I did. I will not make a comment again about this however, you have my word. I am… I am sorry.” You feel the sincerity, and though you still hate him, you decide to finally let this go. If this was as good as anything would get with the infuriating, cold Duke.

“Well, thank you, Duke Gojo.” You sip more coffee, as he hops off the table, and your heart thuds in your chest, throat feeling tight again.

“I actually like women with more meat on their bones. You see my mistresses, it was just… I honestly didn’t think you’d believe me.” His voice is strained as he sits back down next to you, nibbling on his own food now slowly, and you sigh, leaning back a bit in your seat, not your typical straight stature.

“I am confident in ways but I have always watched how I look. Making sure to look perfect. It’s what I am praised for, it’s my worth, how well I am wedded. To marry a Duke made my family proud of me, and that is all my worth is, appearance, posture, how I act, how I laugh… how I eat. All of it. A woman has nothing else truly.”

Duke Gojo sips his sweet tea with milk, contemplating you carefully. What were you doing, opening up to this man? Stupid.

“I assumed you were highly confident, that you would know you’re nothing close to a ‘pig’ in how you eat.”

Your hands run along the edge of your little ceramic cup, touching the handle and studying him, tilting your head. “So why say it, then? To make me hate you?”

“Yes.”

Huh.

“May I know why?”

“No.”

There it is, the confusion, the haughty look on his face you want to punch right off of him. He’s clearly done with whatever tiny vulnerability he’s shown, and likely done affording you any kindness. You sigh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “And I still disgust you?”

He clears his throat, pulling at his collar, stiffening in his seat. “Don’t I disgust you, Duchess?”

You bite your lower lip, nodding. “You have lay with four women since I’ve known you, covered in their rouge, their perfume, their lip stains. Indeed, I do not find that attractive. But as for your looks, of course you are handsome.” His eyes widen, full lips parting for a moment.

“I’m handsome to you?”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re extremely handsome outwardly, on the inside is quite another story, Duke. But you already know that.”

He sips his tea once more, just a hint of color on his cheeks. “Well you have not said so.”

“You want me to? You hate me.”

He looks away. “Yes, I do.”

You sigh then. “This conversation grows tiresome-”

“You’re attractive outwardly as well, very, very attractive. You disgust me because… of other reasons than your beauty.” His soft words are barely a whisper, especially at the end.

Now your cheeks flush, but you just sigh. “Oh, so you were not serious when you said-”

“No, I should not have said that either. Now you disgust me because you spread your legs wide for that man.” His fists clench, you stand then, shaking your head.

“What care you? Your cock in another woman every night.” Gojo stands now, stepping right in front of you.

“And was his cock in you, like a whore?” You smack him then, right across his face, and he scowls now, grabbing your wrist, bending low over you. “You’re the most insolent brat I’ve met.”

“And you’re the most stupid, cruel man I’ve ever met. I will not answer your stupid question. I ask not what you do.”

“Well you’re the innocent one here, or you were.”

“What do you care? My innocence isn’t yours to take. I’d never give it to you.” You whisper, and he grabs your waist then, pulling you flush against him, eyes darting to your lips.

“You act as if you do not want me, when I touch you, your body tells another story.” His voice is dangerously soft as he runs his fingers down your skin, where it’s bare on your shoulders, you shiver, your nipples tightening involuntarily. You can’t stand your stupid body.

“And you beg to touch me, don’t you Gojo?” His eyes narrow, long white lashes over his gaze now at your soft words. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Just because you taste good doesn’t mean I… you know what? Fuck you, Duchess.”

“Fuck you, Duke. Are the formalities in order for our daily battle? Do you enjoy them so, Duke?” Your free hand slides down his abdomen, watching him suck in a breath, feeling his muscles tense. “Enjoy touching me? Enjoy tasting me? Do you hate that I let someone else?”

You watch his jaw clench, watch him gulp, as his grip on you tightens just so. “It’s disgusting that you do. You’re so desperate, so pathetic, to jump in someone’s arms so quickly. You know you are.” His voice is hoarse, however, strained, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

You laugh softly, giving him a mean smile. “So what does that make you, the man who jumps in any woman’s arms? So fucking desperate anyone will do?”

Satoru grabs your face then, squishing your cheeks as he leans even lower, and you hate your body’s reaction again, you hate everything about him. “What do you care who I lay with then, hmm? Jealous of them?”

“Ha, no… I wouldn’t touch you, lord knows where you’ve been? You wish.”

He snorts. “I do not wish.”

You raise a brow. “Mmm, indeed.”

“Eat one more, wife, since you wish to please your husband, don’t you? The perfect little fucking wife.” You scowl again, popping one more, noticing the pleased smile.

“Only because I am hungry.” You speak after you chew, and he exhales, letting your wrist go, caressing your cheek softly, you hate it, but find that your eyes are fluttering shut.

“Good. Prepare today, we have that dinner with our parents.”

“I’ll be the picture of fake wedded bliss.” You smile sweetly, and he shakes his head, why won’t he let your damn waist go!?

“You sure do know how to pretend. We don’t want them knowing the truth, that we hate each other, hmm?”

“Indeed, I can absolutely pretend. Watch.” You take his hand, batting your long lashes and smiling sweetly, leaning up and pecking a kiss on his cheek, watching the blush decorate the shameless man’s face. “Oh Mama, Papa, I’m ever so happy as Duke Gojo’s wife.”

“Bitch.” He huffs, and you pull back and curtsey.

“I know, perfect performance, hmm?”

“No, you’d be calling me Satoru by now. If I wanted to, I’d have you screaming out ‘Satoru’.” His husky whisper is against your lips as he brushes the backs of his knuckles down your collarbone. You fall into that infinite pool that are Gojo’s eyes, for just a moment, before righting yourself.

“I only scream ‘Satoru’ when he pees on the floor.” You coo, yanking back from him just a step, and earning his furious scowl.

“You’re such a bitch. Imagine if I were the type of husband to take what’s mine, to keep you locked up like some pretty bird in a cage. Ever been happy I don’t?”

“I’m very happy you don’t fuck me. It will be so fun to fuck him-”

Gojo grabs you by the throat then, squeezing just so, and you just laugh as he bends down low. “You’re such a stupid whore.”

“I’m learning from the best.” You whisper out, nails digging into his wrist, but something about how he squeezes, how his other hand slides up your rib cage, makes you…

Wet.

Something’s so wrong with you!?

He releases you, leaning down again, and you hold him at a distance, his blue stormy eyes dilated now. “I should occupy your mouth with other things.”

“I wouldn’t suck you, who knows where that cock has been-”

“You know what that is!?” He demands, tips of his ears red.

You clear your throat, looking down and stepping back, as Satoru is furious. “It’s none of your-”

“You sucked a man off like some-”

“Like how I saw a girl suck you. Mmhmm.” You say then, defiant, raising your eyes back to his, looking at him under your lashes. Gojo grabs you again, and you smack him again, in this stupid fucking dance you both do.

“Did you really?”

“You mad it wasn’t you?” He opens his mouth, those pink lush lips wide, as if he’s at a loss for words. “Maybe I’ll ask your women for tips, you know, for next time.”

He laughs harshly, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, exasperated clearly. “Ask my mistresses for tips on sucking cock?”

“Mmm, indeed. I’m not sure if I did the best as my first time. But you know, he enjoyed it clearly, he… well you know.” 

“You’re such an evil little bitch.” You just smile as he chokes you once more, you feel him holding back, you know he wants to crush your windpipe, but the soft pressure is thrilling. “So you’re just swallowing cum then?”

“Why not? Don’t they swallow, Gojo?” He says nothing, as he’s panting, as you’re whispering through the squeeze of your throat.

“You wouldn’t be able to talk if I fucked your mouth, that’s the difference, wouldn’t be able to swallow anything for days without remembering my cock fucking your little throat.” His words shoot straight to your cunt, and it’s like he knows, as he grips your skirts tightly into a fist.

“I’d never suck you.” You say then, earning a tighter squeeze before he releases you, furious now. “You won’t be any of my firsts, I don’t even count our kiss.” You cough then, rubbing your throat, and Gojo’s fury just grows, as does his despair, as his eyes look so… sad then.

You don’t care.

Gojo deserves this and worse.

You don’t care when he storms away without a fucking word, and you don’t care when he says nothing to you even in that carriage ride to your parents home, where Gojo’s Mama and step dad would be. You don’t care how his thighs are spread, one pressed against yours, how you feel the heat of him against your skin through those layers of satin.

What do you care if he’s upset?

The carriage ride to your parents' home is tense, the silence thick with tension, as Satoru Gojo sulks like a damn child. He keeps peeking at you, before glaring and staring back out the carriage window, fuming. You sit rigidly, your heart racing from the altercation in the dining room, you can still feel his hand on your throat, and you wish you hated it more.

The soft rocking of the carriage and the rhythmic clop of the horses' hooves against the cobblestone streets are the only sounds that fill the space in the tense quarters. You hate that his scent fill the air between you, a mix of sandalwood and something sweet, fuck does this stupid man need to smell so good!?

You focus on the passing scenery outside the window, you should take this as a good thing, Satoru Gojo finally shutting the fuck up. Right? How often have you gotten him to-

“Bet you were wet.”

What!?

You look to him incredulously, mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“When I choked that pretty throat of yours.” His ankle is crossed over his knee, he’s resting his chin on his hand, smirking now.

“I was certainly not, damned brute!”

“No, not a bit? You looked like you liked it. Wonder how freaky your baker really gets, could he handle you?”

“Stupid fucking man.” You shove at his arm now, maybe you should have enjoyed that silence. “You presume too much, your Grace.”

“Felt you twice, soaked.” His voice drips with sex, as drippy as he had your little pussy, but you'll not say it out loud. Fuck Duke Gojo.

“Wasn’t you who did it.”

“Lying little bitch.”

“Conceited dick!”

As the carriage draws to a halt in front of your parents' grand estate, you both are glaring at each other, and he’s too close, he’s too close. You want to punch him if not for being at your parents’, and them seeing your ‘husband’ with a giant bruise on his face. Your fingers itch badly to, but soon one of the attendants was opening the carriage door, and Satoru steps out.

He holds his hand out then, and you ignore it, choosing to step down instead, holding your skirts up, nearly tripping as your legs aren’t quite long enough with your flouncy skirts. Then Satoru’s hand catches you by your bare upper arm, and it sends a jolt through your body, a reminder of his earlier touch, and you immediately pull away, smoothing your skirts as if to wipe away the sensation.

“Wanted to land on your face, brat?” He demands through gritted teeth, earning your glare up at him.

“Face planting is preferable to your touch.” He scoffs, walking ahead of you, and you struggle to compose yourself, hating everything about this man.

Perfect.

Composed.

You can do this. You can’t let Satoru see his stupid effects on you anymore than he already has.

Once seated at the long, elegantly set dinner table, the weight of your parents' expectations press down on you. Satoru sits next to you, and instead of being perfect and composed, he seemed on the very edge, fury just radiating. You wonder at him, why was he mad you did the same thing he did? He’s confusing, he’s stupid, he’s bloody infuriating.

You wish you were instead baking with Mr. Nanami, not forcing smiles in this masquerade of an affair next to London’s biggest asshole. Let him ruin the sham of marriage you think, perhaps it will end it all sooner… Though you know in your heart your parents will not let this go, they would simply force you to stay, as would Gojo’s mother.

Gojo’s stepfather looks bored, he and Gojo do not even acknowledge each other, which you find somewhat curious as you pick at your food, the rich aromas of roast beef and steamed vegetables doing little to quell the nervousness in your stomach. You make yourself eat some, noticing Gojo’s relief next to you.

Why does he suddenly care?

The room is lit by several candles, along with a beautiful chandelier overhead, casting flickering shadows across the polished silverware and crystal glasses. Your parents manor was one of the most grand aside from royalty, which of course you were now, but the beauty is hard to rival. If your parents liked one thing, it was opulence, it was being the top of society.

It doesn’t feel much like a home truly. You did not have a bad childhood, no indeed you are very lucky, your parents let you ride horses, play outside, cook in the kitchens. The only pressures you faced were preparing to be a good wife, to be the most perfect, and even though you’ve ‘accomplished’ it, the weight of their gazes and their expectations drowns you still.

The sound of forks and knives clinking against porcelain plates fills the air, punctuated by the occasional forced laughter, along with perfunctory conversation, until they get to what they really wanted to talk about. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as your mother looks at you both.

“So, are we trying for an heir?” You sputter, and Gojo smirks then, looking down at you and raising a brow.

“We have been actively trying, haven’t we, my love.” You grit your teeth at his stupid words, sure he’s playing a game but you hate them.

“Indeed, we have been trying most… fervently, sweet Satoru.” He gulps audibly on the sweet wine he’s drinking, raising brows at the use of his name.

“I’m most pleased to hear this. We had our worries.” Your mother says, and Gojo’s mom smiles.

“I also had my worries. But I can see the sparks between you both.” You stifle a rude laugh, but Gojo snorts, earning a subtle stomp on his foot, and a glare from him, to which you just smile brightly, batting your lashes at him.

“Indeed, I see them as well. Young and in love.” Your dad says, winking at you both, and you literally can barely stop yourself from snorting, instead shoving food into your mouth, and you notice your parents shock, brows raised.

“Eat like that so often and you won’t keep that perfect little waist, darling.” Your mom’s words make your fork clatter then, and you clear your suddenly tight throat, feeling your eyes prick with tears.

“She barely eats, like a damned bird, she has an appetite from us riding horses earlier is all.” Satoru says then, and you look at him in shock, as he’s… is Satoru… defending you?

“Of course, she also must eat well to have a baby you know.” Satoru’s mom says softly, and your mother smiles a bit, nodding, as her crushing words hit an already fragile part of you.

“Indeed, but your husband married you a certain way, you know.” She quips then, and your chest heaves with labored breaths, as you sip on your drink, and you feel Satoru’s hand then, under the cover of the heavy damask tablecloth, on your thigh, not sexual either it’s…

Supportive?

“I assure you she could stand to eat more, she’s rather petite. I enjoy a woman who eats.” He says, and his touch is light, almost imperceptible, but it sends a shiver up your spine, as he speaks so bravely for you, on something he himself had said. He now looks to you, and you see it, pain in his eyes that's reflected from yours.

Understanding.

“You’re not the same size, are you, when you married?” Satoru’s mom quips to your mom, and she gasps, you and Satoru hold in your chuckles just barely.

“Well, I… I’m older and had a babe! We can’t all stay your size, Lady Gojo.”

“Leave her alone, she’s just hungry.” Your dad says, and you sigh a bit as your mother finally relents. You can’t eat another bite, as she picks you apart.

“You look pale. That’s not well. You should have more color.” She says now, and you can’t stand another moment, wanting to throw back your wine.

“She’s been in the bed chambers so much, Mama.” Satoru quips, and soon everyone laughs at his remark, and once again, he squeezes your thigh, giving you a small smile.

“Why are you being nice?” You whisper, leaning to his ear, as a loving couple would do, and you inhale his scent, you feel the heat of his palm over your skirts.

“Because your mom’s a bitch.” You giggle a bit, looking up and seeing a different side of him, his smirk… charming and not cruel. You try to remind yourself he’s horrible, and you will remember that later, but for a brief moment you’re content to enjoy him.

“They’ll definitely be making babies.” Satoru’s mom says, and she looks to Satoru curiously then. “Have you given up your rakish ways, Satoru?”

“What rakish ways, you wound me, Mother.” She rolls her pretty blue eyes, a shade darker than Duke Gojo’s, and you tentatively put a hand on his, making him squeeze your thigh, you watch him suck in a breath.

“He’s a reformed rake at present, aren’t you, Satoru?” The room is quiet, and he looks at you in surprise, nodding, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and his warm lips feel far, far too sweet on your skin.

“Indeed, reformed for you my love.” He murmurs, and you can’t take how charming he looks, acts, even when you know how he really is.

You hate that you wished for one moment this was real, that the man you’d had dreams of as a young girl, the Duke - he’d been so charming and funny you noticed from afar- was actually kind. That he wouldn’t be fucking another woman right next to you, right in front of you. That he would truly mean what he says, and not constantly confuse you.

Was there kindness in him, in Satoru Gojo, or just this moment, where you both have some strange agreement? Why won’t you lift your hand off of his, why are you brushing a thumb along his knuckles, and why won’t he release your leg? His hand slides higher, his thumb ghosting along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and you bite back a gasp.

The conversation carries on, until Lady Gojo brings up Satoru’s father, and his grip gets brutal, his breathing labored. You clutch onto his hand, looking at him with concern stark in your gaze then. That vein bulges out of his jaw, and now he’s downing a whole glass of wine, holding the empty crystal for a servant to fill, beginning to chug that one down.

“I won’t speak of him, you know that Mother.” She sighs then, shaking her head, cutting a piece of roast beef and chewing it delicately.

“I do not know what ever happened.”

“You need not know. Do not bring him up, he’s dead, he’s gone.” At Satoru’s harsh and cruel words of his own father your mind races, what could he have done to earn such ire?

“Let’s speak of other things.” You chime in then, and he exhales, turning his hand up to entwine with yours, it’s as if you both were relying on each other to get through this sham of a dinner. Something about this was nicer than you cared to admit. “What of the opera this weekend? Are any of you going?”

“Indeed, we have a box seat. Are you two going?” Your father asks, as Lady Gojo is quiet, contemplative, and your mom is still rather huffy about the weight comments.

“We’re going, of course. You know I love the opera.” You say brightly, and soon the topics shift, and they’re on to speak of the races, of gossip, of different businesses and even political matters. The heat is off you and Satoru, so you let go of a hand you’ve held far too long.

Satoru’s hand doesn’t leave your body, it wraps around your back, rubbing little circles against it that feel so good. You laced incredibly tight due to your Mama and her perpetual comments, and you’re struggling just a bit to breathe, but he’s so comforting, his presence. It shouldn’t be.

It shouldn’t be.

It can’t be.

You hate him.

How dare he comfort you, defend you, how could you do the same, how could you act this way when hours ago he’d choked you, and you’d slapped him, and you’d both been so nasty? What was this, were you thinking more into it, was he just keeping up appearances?

Satoru leans close to you then, holding a piece of dessert on a silver fork, and you have flashbacks, of him and Catherine, so vivid you feel sick, you pull back then, wondering how you’d let it get so far, this facade. Just hours ago you had slapped him and he had choked you, and even you had been cruel, something you frequently were lately.

“I need some air, I’m afraid. Excuse me for just a moment.” You say softly, and Satoru’s eyes narrow a bit, his lips pursing just so.

You rush out into the gardens now, just like you had that night, taking several shaky breaths, trying to compose yourself, remind yourself of the cruel reality that Satoru is not kind, he is not interested. The truth that you have someone who cares, and every moment you enjoy with Satoru feels like some betrayal to him, in such an odd way.

You would be at best a plaything, and at worst, something for Satoru to mock, to have something over you. It was not as if the man for whatever reason feels some attraction that anything has changed. You are a damn fool, you realize it, as you walk past the beautiful marble statues of couples in love, naked aside from rippled sheets gracing their bodies.

You touch a particular one then, seeing the beauty of it, but also the pain, a statue with two women and one man. One is pulling at the man’s shoulders, while the other is in his arms, and you see the pain in the woman’s ivory face, the set of her brows, her hollow eyes, as the other woman smiles so coyly. There is the utmost detail as the man’s hand presses into her flesh.

You are that other woman, or you become that woman when you have just one feeling, just one care, just one moment. He is not sincere, he is not kind, just because he gave you one moment of reprieve, just because he apologized for one wrong doing amongst the countless… he is not worthy of forgiveness… he is not…

“It is rather beautiful, isn’t it?” You jerk and turn when you see him behind you in the dark night, where thousands of glittery stars watch you and judge you, will they laugh at how stupid you’ve become?

“It is my favorite piece in these gardens.” You say softly, clearing your throat and tilting your head back to look up at him, at his soft lips that tempt you with every breath, at his long white lashes casting shadows down his cheeks. You look down then, nervously gripping your sapphire gown. “I’ll be back momentarily, your Grace.”

“Your mother, she upset you.” His words surprise you, and you take a nervous breath, nodding. “I did not know… I see now, how jealous she is of you.”

“Jealous of me?”

“Mmm, young and beautiful, and she wishes she still was, not that she’s not a pretty lady, but certainly not…” He trails off then, tugging at his cravat, nervous by your shocked expression. “Not you.”

Your heart falters, tears pricking your eyes, and as they fall, Satoru brushes one away with a thumb, ripping apart a fragile psyche. “Why are you being kind? What games do you mean to play?”

He sighs, looking down now as well, broad shoulders slumping a bit. “I just realize that I triggered something already there, and I feel fucking horrible.”

“Then why do it? Why do any of it? What did I do to deserve-”

“I can’t tell you.” His voice is broken, his words so confusing you can’t stand it. “But we have something in common. Or, we did.”

“What, pray tell, is that?” You ask, raising a brow.

His jaw sets. ‘Shit parents who clearly hate us. Though, my shitty parent is since deceased. And yours lives and eats across from you. Was she always like this?”

You blink rapidly, nodding and brushing tendrils that have fallen from your half up do out of your face. “She’s always needed me perfect, picked me to fucking pieces, it’s like I couldn’t live up to it.”

He laughs, dark and without humor then. “I understand that feeling, to need to be perfect. I suppose I thought you were though.”

“I just come across that way. There’s so much wrong with me…”

“Like what?”

“A lot. As you know.”

“Hmm.” He sighs then, as you both stand together in the night, and you hate how much you ache to touch his chest, to feel his arms around you. And why!? Why?

“Well thank you for the kindness tonight, even if it was an act, it was a rather beautiful one.” You turn then, head dropping and shoulders stopping just a bit, as the gentle breeze of the night blows against your skin, making you shiver. Satoru’s big hands grip your shoulders then, and you stiffen, fighting how good it feels, fighting that feeling when he’s pressed against you.

Satoru leans down, breath tickling your ear. “It was not an act to defend you. That was not an act when you helped me either, changing that subject, was it?”

You shake your head then, breathing so heavy, wishing it would calm, as he’s so fucking close, you can feel him everywhere in the night, as if it’s all him. “You helped me, so of course I helped.”

“After all I’ve done, you owe me no kindness. No forgiveness. None.” His words are terse, as his grip tightens, and you bite your lower lip so brutally you tear the skin of it, tasting just a bit of blood. You fight every urge in your body.

“You’re not owed any. That is true. And we will go back to normal, as soon as we are at Gojo Manor-”

“Home. At home.”

“Your home.” You look up and glare, as he scowls. “You’ll have a mistress waiting in your bed, and you’ll cease to need to excite yourself with this stupid game, once a woman you desire is there.”

“You think…” His hands slip down to your waist, pressing you against him, and your head falls back against his chest before you can stop it, letting out a little whine that you despise. “I don’t desire you? Are you so stupid?”

“Fuck you, Gojo. Fuck you confusing me, fuck everything about you, including making me think… making me…”

“Think what, Princess?” His husky tone and that word make you so on edge you can’t stand it, as a big hand presses on your tummy over your corset.

“Don’t call me that, I’m a Duchess, and that’s temporary.”

“You’re a whole fucking Princess, everything about you. This body, this face, that annoyingly perfect posture, the way the entire room holds its breath-”

“Don’t do this. Don’t. You’re a liar.” You turn then, only for him to bend at the waist, cupping your face, shaking his head, the moonlight like a halo behind his head, behind his body, like he’s an angel, when he’s not. “Devil. You’re a devil.”

“And you’re a fucking angel.” You shake your head again, shoving at his chest, but his lips descend, and they feel so good they pulse through you, until you find yourself tip toeing, and he moans in your mouth. “Slutty angel.”

“Whore devil.” You whisper back, only for him to grip you roughly, hands obscene, grabbing your ass over your gown, picking you up with ease and pressing you against that statue, it digs in so hard but you come alive, as he’s kissing down your throat, your chest, biting and moaning so softly.

“Why must you do this to me? Haunt me so. I should hate you.” He says then, confusing the ever living shit out of you. “I should not want you.”

“Why not? Why do you… no… just, let me go. Don’t want this, don’t want you, I don’t!” You smack at his chest, and he grabs your wrists, shoving them behind your back, bringing your hips to him, and he’s hard and thick over your layers. You cry out, head falling back, and he devours you, bit by bit.

“I hate it. I hate you.” He kisses and kisses, as every confession of hate confuses you, as does your throbbing pussy. “I can’t stop it, I can’t stop these thoughts… of tasting you, of kissing you, bit by bit, of making you cum so much you’ll forget that man, he’ll be nothing.”

“Mnh, stop it. You can’t. You won’t. I won’t.” He’s sliding his hand up your bodice, gripping your breasts, shaking his head. “I can’t fall for this, for you, just leave me be!” He frowns then, brows knitting together, as he caresses your cheek far too softly.

His eyes devour you, full of… it’s fucking desire, isn’t it? A person can’t fake that look, but you must ignore it! You must… “Please… I need-”

You both fall apart as you hear your family now, and you just barely manage to escape with your mind intact. Partially.

You can’t fall for this, what even is this!?

It’s a silent carriage ride back, as you both stare out those dark carriage windows, pitch black nearly aside from soft lights hanging along, marking your path, and you can’t get his touch out of your mind, his kiss off your lips. You touch them then, sighing, and his eyes lock on you.

“What?” You say then, putting your fingers down, and he opens his mouth, then shuts it, opening it again. “Say it, Duke.”

“I was not pretending. I meant it.” You laugh then, shaking your head and facing him, as he faces you in the night, the carriage rocking roughly, shoving you into his damn arms, making him suck in a breath, as you push back.

“You’re such a liar, instead of just being cruel outwardly, you want to make me think you actually…”

“Actually what?”

“Want me! When you don’t!”

“I do! I do, fuck I do. Can you not fucking see!?” He demands then, and you shake your head quickly, breaths in quick pants, as his stupid fucking hands run down your shoulders. “I want you so badly I came and begged to taste you. Twice. What do you think that means?”

“That you’re stupid, confusing, a dick! Angry I don’t fall to my fucking knees for you. Conceited, narcissistic and ruthless! Cold and beautiful and hard, like some fucking diamond. You’re the diamond, you!” You shove at him, and he lets you, he lets you smack at him. “I hate you! I hate my life because of you!”

When you stop for just a moment it’s because you hear his labored breaths, and you look up to see tears in the night. You gulp, shaking your head, unbelieving them, gripping his suit so tight it hurts in your hands. He rests his forehead on yours, and you taste the sweet brandy on his breath, and fuck you hate it, when his head tilts, and when his lips brush yours like a ghost.

“You make me cry, you make me hate myself more, you make me… make me want to… you’ve pushed me so hard I-”

“I’m so fucking sorry. I am. I swear to god.”

“Then explain it!”

He chokes on his own cry, you feel your tears mingling together. “I can’t explain it to you, I can’t, but it was never your fault.”

“So I just accept that!? Fuck that. That’s bullshit.” You shove back, swiping your eyes and backing up, your back slamming against the rocking wooden carriage seat, thighs shaking. “It’s because I’m happy without you, you can’t stand it.”

“No, I can’t stand it, not when it’s me who should be making you cum.” You nearly growl in anger, glaring at him and smacking him, only for him to let you, to grip your wrist and kiss your palm. “Don’t fucking do that! I won’t stop seeing him. He is who deserves me, you do not!”

“I know I do not deserve you. I know.” He pins your wrists against the sides of you, and he’s now between your thighs, on his knees, and you’re panicking. “I know you’re too good for me. I know it, goddammit you shouldn’t even let me touch you, but you want it too, don’t you.”

“N-no! Never!” He exhales, slipping up your skirts, and you let him, fuck you spread your thighs for him. “What on Earth are you doing!?”

“I’m going to lick you. And you’re going to cum so hard you’ll forget anything, anything in that pretty head but me.” He whispers, you’re soaked clean through those pantalets he’s ripped off you then, and you gasp. 

“No, you won’t… you can’t… don’t want you…”

“No? Then explain this.” He’s slid a thick digit in your already dripping entrance, and you’re screaming out in the rocking carriage, earning his moan, his look of desire, as his eyes watch you in the night, watch your heaving breasts pressed high in your corset. “Soaking wet little cunt.”

“You can’t, you don’t want me, remember!? Fuck! I don’t want you… mmm… I don’t, no… ah! Fuck you!” He’s barely moving a finger and you nearly cum at that, as your fingers itch to shove his face where it’s so close, as he’s kissing and biting your thighs.

“Please.” He begs, looking up, eyes still glossy, and fuck he looks good, fuck you hate that you want it, that you want to so badly you can’t imagine anything else feeling that good. “Let me feel your cum on my face, dripping down my lips, let me drink all of you, Duchess. Please.”

 He’s desperate, he’s whiny, he’s between your thighs just begging, his own breaths labored, as he’s curling that finger up, and your head falls back, dripping down on him. “You can’t. It’s not… right. You’ll… fuck your whores… you’ll…”

“Just once, let me.” His desperation makes his voice break, as his breath tickles you. “Let me devour you, let me fucking feel you.” His words, his eyes, the finger sliding against your damp folds, it’s too much.

You hate yourself. 

“F-fine, once. I won’t like it, I know I won’t.” You say with a glare, earning a smirk, and a quirked white brow.

“We’ll see about that, Princess.”

He spreads your puffy, aching lips then, and moans when he watches wetness dripping out of your little hole, pooling out of your entrance, then he bends down, sliding his tongue up you, and it feels so good you can’t stop your moan, as those gorgeous eyes look up, and he’s tasting you, his tongue flicking your clit, making it twitch under it, your thighs tightening.

“Fuck you taste so good.” He whispers, lovingly almost, what a joke right, then he’s not just licking you, he’s grabbing you by the fat of your ass, pressing you against the carriage seat, and he’s devouring you.

“Ohmy- ah- what!? I- f-fuck!” You scream out, your hands clinging to his shoulders desperately as he’s sliding his tongue in and out of your soppy entrance, fucking you with it, drinking you all in. Your hips buck up, earning his groan, as he thrusts his tongue in and out, his nose bumping your clit, making you a mess, making you so wet it’s stupid.

You’re so close so quick, you can scarcely hold it in, and when he looks up at you, and takes your hand, putting it on his hair, you feel so fucking powerful then, so desired. You grip his soft hair, hips arching up for more, pulling at his strands, as he moans against you, diving back down, then you’re done for, you’re destroyed, your tummy is clenching with so much pressure you can’t hold in.

You scream out as you cum all over Duke Gojo’s pretty face, and he’s gripping your thighs bruisingly, sucking your swollen clit into his mouth now, humming, as you cum so hard it’s blinding. It washes all over your entire body now, thighs shivering violently on either side of his head as he pulls back, licking his lower lip, covered in your arousal.

“That’s it, you love it don’t you pretty girl?” His words kill your last resolve, if cumming hadn’t, and they confuse you, as your eyes are lidded, as he teases your sensitive entrance with prodding fingers, eyes locked on your face.

“P-pretty… pretty…”

“You’re so pretty like this. Fuck you are so, so pretty, falling apart for me.” He’s sliding two fingers in now, pumping in and out, and you’re on that edge again, as he huffs, leaning up, a breath away. “Lick your sweet cunt off me.”

“Fuck.” You cling to him then, against any good goddamn judgment, as he’s rocking fingers up and down in your tight entrance, and he’s kissing you desperately, so fucking hungry. Your teeth click as he steals your breath, as your tongues swirl so goddamn messy, saliva mixing with your arousal, and you’re both rough and brutal against each other.

He pulls back, biting his lip and sliding a free hand up to your breast, squishing it and making you cry out. “Cum again pretty. Like a good little slut.”

“S-slut… fuck you… fuck!” He’s dived back down now, as the carriage jostles you both, serving to only shove his face further between the apex of your thighs, and you can hear him groan as he licks you from bottom to top, fingering you and licking you, all while his snowy lashes cover his pretty eyes, his face tilted to the side to hit the underside of your clit in quick flicks.

You can't hold it together, everything falls apart again, and this time you're clinging to that white hair, rocking your hips up fucking shameless. He slurps up your wetness, so goddamn obscene in this little carriage as you scream out - ���Gojo, c-cumming!”

He pulls back, face glistening, still pressing on that little spongy spot that has you panting, vision darkened as the carriage rocks you both. “Satoru, call me Satoru when you cum.”

“I can’t, I hate you… we hate each… f-fuck you…” He leans up, kissing your breasts, nipping and biting as his fingers work you, so deep it's insane how they hit, the pressure more and more intense as it builds.

“Please just one time. Say my name.” He whispers, vulnerable and begging again, as he's worshiping your cunt, your body. Your body heaves as you struggle to breathe, to think. “Please, Princess…”

“Princess, stop it, stop saying it fuck!” You’re crying salty tears as you’re about to cum again for this horrible man, who is looking at you hungrily.

“You are one, fuck you are, and I'm nothing. Please. Scream my name for me while I feel you gush this sweetness.” He begs again, eyes so dilated they're hard to look at, you're dripping down the carriage seat. You shouldn't be doing this, you shouldn't… you're awful, he's horrible… 

“You’re-”

“I know. I know. Please.” He says again, dipping back down, looking up at you now, and it ends you, that hot, wet tip of his tongue flicking where you're sensitive and you can’t stop your back from arching, your hands from pulling him closer. “Say my name, please. Please.”

His whispers are tickling that clit, as he now sinks two fingers so deep, deeper than you’ve had something in you, pressing so deep it’s almost painful, but you want it, you want more. You want all of him, you even want that pretty cock against all your better judgment, thinking of it just makes you squish lewdly, makes him lick his lower lip hungrily.

“Once?” He nods, free hand pressing your thigh up, flounces of skirts dangling as he still his motions, as he watches you eagerly.

“Then make me cum, and I’ll say it.” He moans at that, lashes fluttering as he dives back down fully, using two fingers as he mouths your clit, and you’re dripping all the way down, so much you’re slippery, and you can’t take it, you are so on edge, as he’s building this intensity in your core, as you listen to his hoarse moans muffled by your cunt.

Satoru has you there again, this time even more intense, your building climax, as you buck up your hips, grinding on his face, before stopping yourself, only for him to pull back for just a moment. “No, Princess, keep doing it. Fuck my face. All those frustrations, please fucking do it, get them out on me.”

You sputter, but then moan and pull him against you, grinding on his beautiful face in the night, as his tongue laps and laps, and your cunt spasms around his fingers now, pulsating as it hits you, as it rocks in waves, and you scream it, fuck you scream it… “Satoru! Satoru!”

He groans, fucking you with his long fingers as you cum so hard, harder than you could imagine possible, fucking reeling and weak, head smacking the seat as you pull his face so tightly, as he’s suffocating against you, but his mouth never stops. His fingers keep pressing up, forcing you into another, blue eyes looking up as he watches you so intently, fall apart.

“Satoru!” You scream again, and finally he relents, leaving you weak and boneless, and he’s kissing you again, as you cling so hungry, as you realize that carriage stopped. “Satoru…” He cups your face, eyes swirling, as you swipe some of your wetness off him.

“I want you around my cock so goddamn bad. So bad. Fuck I’d do anything to feel her.” He whispers, and you can’t stop it, you just kiss him again, and before you know it, you’re out of the carriage in his arms, and he’s quickly walking you in as you cling to him, as your mouths don’t leave each other, not even to breathe, tongues in desperate strokes.

He presses you against the wall of the drawing room, yanking down your bodice now, and you gasp, eyes rolling back as he kisses and bites, as your cunt grinds where he’s so hard, as you want more impossibly more. And from him!? But you can’t remember a goddamn thing he did when he looks at you like that, when he cups your face, pressing you further.

“I need you, fuck I need you.” He says then, and you can’t respond, as your mind swirls. “Are you innocent still? I don’t even care, I won’t judge you, I just need to know if we take this to my bed or I fuck you here.”

As he’s whispering, you blink back tears, sucking in a breath. “We shouldn’t do this, Satoru.”

His eyes get heady, glazed over as he grinds again. “Fuck, my name on your lips?”

“Satoru I… I am still-”

“Your grace, your mistress and Lady Elaine are both here for you.” Satoru’s butler says then, clearing his throat, and it’s like someone threw a bucket of water all over you. Satoru looks in horror as he watches you break, as you shove and shove until he lets you go.

“I am stupid, you’re right.” You whisper then, running, and he’s running after you, shoving past the butler, and you run almost into them, those ladies giggling and sipping wine in your home.

But it’s not your home.

“Please, it was before this. I’ll send them home!” He pleads as he catches you on the stairway, and the ladies are scowling at you, making you so goddamn angry, you shove at him, and he yanks at you. “I want you! I want you!”

“You never did. It’s a game! That's all I am to you.” You sob uncontrollably, hunching over as he clutches you, and you wriggle in his hold. “I hate you!”

“I swear, I didn’t… I didn’t know we’d…” He cups your face then, gulping, his lips tremulous. “I had no clue I’d ever get you like this. I don’t want it to end, not this… I want tonight to be about you, about you only. Please.”

“You knew they’d be here! Is this funny to you? Toying with my goddamn emotions, making me think you could… we could… Ugh!” You shove past him again, running to your room in your pretty silver heels, clicking up the steps, lifting your skirts, and you hear those women now, making your blood boil.

“Duke Gojo-”

“Fuck off.” He shouts back, chasing you, but you’re already in your room, and you’re trying to shut it. “They’ll go home, I swear. Please, let me… let me just touch you more, taste you more. You can do nothing to me if you don’t want to. Please.” He’s pleading now, as you’re trying to shut the door on him, and you can barely look at him, it hurts so bad.

“It’s a game.”

“It’s not!”

“It all is to you. You mean to break me in other manners.”

“No I do not!”

“Then tell me, why do you hate me!? Why!?” He blinks then, opening his mouth, then exhaling, hands reaching for your face, hands that feel too perfect on your skin, hands that made you forget. “You cannot open up to me, you cannot do anything but confuse me. You go down there with them, have your fun, what do I even care, I’m nothing to you!”

“I want you goddammit, you! They’re nothing compared to you.” He speaks through gritted teeth, and you want to believe it, but you steel yourself, as much as you can, shaking your head. “I swear it. I swear it, let me show you…”

“You’ve made enough of a fool of me. Imagine me thinking you could be my first? After…” He pauses, eyes wide, and you shake with your emotion. “I’m an idiot. You were right.”

“I am the idiot. Fuck I know it. Please, give me tonight, please.” He keeps cupping your face, as you hear his women laughing.

“They laugh at me. I’m a joke.”

“You’re-”

“I am. A laughingstock. But at least before I had my dignity, now you strip even that away! Go, I shall never be a fool again.”

He growls, grabbing at you tightly. “Goddamit, stop this, just let me try!”

“I can’t take it. I can’t.” You sob harder as you finally shut the door on his forlorn face, and he’s smacking the door with an angry fist, as you gently touch the door where his hand is, resting your head on it. “I wish it was real.” You whisper, against your will, and you feel another thud on the door.

“Please let me in, please.”

“It hurts too goddamn much. Play your games with someone else. I can’t take this. I can’t.” You feel yourself losing control, and finally you’re sliding down the door, curling into a ball and sobbing, and it takes a long, long time to calm down, to stop banging on the door.

“Please, I’m begging you, open this door. Even if we… even if I just look at you, please.” Your eyes are so full of tears they burn, at his emotional voice, but it’s got to be an act, it’s got to be!

You’re stupid.

You’re so stupid.

You hate yourself for this.

How could you!?

You almost…

“It was real.” He whispers finally, before you hear one more punch at your door, then hear his thuds as he leaves. And your mind wracks, with what will happen, what you’ve done.

What have you done?

And was he in their arms, as you held yourself and cried?

Or was he truly…

You hear nothing that night, but who knows, what if they’re in the dining hall, in the kitchens… you hear nothing as you climb into your bed, aside from a sob ripped from Satoru Gojo’s throat. You sit up in the bed, heart pounding, talking yourself out of this, out of this folly.

He’s cruel.

It’s a game.

You’ve wronged Nanami Kento now.

Someone who really cares.

For what!?

You touch the cold wall of your room, where his bed is on the other side, a bed you’ve never slept in, a bed you’d have let him fuck you in tonight. How could you, how could you, stupid, stupid, stupid. Those women were waiting, and who knows, what if he was fucking them now!? 

What do you care!?

You care.

Fuck you care.

You stomp out of the room an hour later, throat so tight, Satoru always takes your goddamn breath, he never gives you oxygen, just pain, just confusion. You tense as you walk past his room, and you expect it, his women, but Satoru is alone in the night, in his bed, bare back strong as he shivers against the cold, his window wide open.

You hate when you step in, when you shut the window with a quiet click, and you see him sleep for the first time. You hate when you pull up his thick blue blankets over his bare upper body, when he moans in his sleep, and turns his head, so the moonlight illuminates his face. You hate when you caress his cheek with a finger, and you hate when his lips part with a sigh.

You hate how you want to kiss his forehead, you hate how you can’t find the proper way to be mad at him enough. You sigh then, blowing out the candle barely flickering by his bed, brushing soft white hair back one more time, before padding out quietly, shutting the door behind you, resting your back on it.

You can’t be feeling this. He’ll only make a fool of you. So what if he maybe sent them home early? What’s it matter? You should know better. You go back to your room then, laying in your gigantic bed, all alone, empty, as tears fall on your pillow, as you wonder if you should have let him in, but how can you?

Your eyes shut, and you flit from dream to dream, in flitful images, as the heavy weight in your heart fills, as you remember all he’s done, all he’s said, and how easily you almost forgot it with his kisses. His tongue. His eyes. The way Satoru consumed your mind, until it was nothing but him.

Who is Satoru Gojo, was he this cruel man or was he perhaps something more? Why do you care so much?

You finally cry yourself to sleep, dreading what the reality of tomorrow brings, and hating especially that you had to tell someone you care about that you’re horrible. Nanami’s handsome face makes your heart sink, as you realize you’ll lose him, and you’ve lost yourself, all for that man, a man you don’t know, a man who drowns you just existing.

A man that makes it so hard to breathe.

Until the next one dear masochistic readers <3

Part Seven

[starryjake]

neighbors | k.y

in which you have feelings for your dilf neighbor.

pairing: koga yudai x fem!reader

includes: age gap (reader is early twenties, k is almost thirty), dilf k, k is divorced, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink (lmk if i missed anything).

a/n: first full length &team smut! i love k so much so this is LONG! but its worth the read i think. enjoy!

the crying. the never ending, slightly muffled wailing sound piercing into your ears as you tried to sleep.

having lived in your apartment for about five months then, you were used to it. your neighbor, k, was an incredibly nice man. he was a single father, therefore you tried not to get annoyed whenever you heard that baby crying in the middle of the night. you knew he didn’t have it easy, having to take care of a baby on his own.

but that night, you were exhausted.

you’d worked a double shift, a rather awful double shift. it was long and when you got back to your apartment, all you wanted to do was go to sleep considering you had to be back at work early the next morning.

but you couldn’t sleep, not with that baby crying so loud.

you huffed and threw the covers off your body, trudging out of bed. you didn’t even bother changing out of your pajamas—a matching set with a cherry pattern. you threw on some slippers and dragged yourself out of your apartment.

in the hallway, you took a few steps and landed in front of k’s door. you could hear the baby crying even more prominently from out there.

you knocked as softly as you could, wanting him to hear it but not wanting to disrupt the baby even more.

you could hear shuffling from behind the door before the door unlocked, and there appeared a very tired looking k with the crying baby in his arms.

you suddenly felt even worse about storming over there, seeing how he looked even more tired than you.

“gosh, i’m sorry, y/n,” he sighed. “i know you’re probably trying to sleep, she just won’t go down tonight. i don’t know what it is, she just keeps crying.”

“oh,” you said, feeling guilt pang in your chest. “it’s okay. i just came to ask if you needed any help?”

that was not, in fact, why you went over there. however, seeing him look the way he did, you knew he could use another hand.

“i couldn’t ask you to do that,” he responded.

“you don’t have to ask,” you said. “i wanna help.”

you mostly wanted to help so you could get the baby down and finally get some sleep. however, you did want to help k out of the goodness of your heart, knowing he probably needed it but was too stubborn to ask.

he was married, now divorced. his wife left only a few months after the baby was born, unable to handle being a mother. you’d lived next door the entire time and the walls were so thin that you could hear their fights. but then one night, it stopped.

you got closer to k once he and his wife divorced. you brought him coffee sometimes from the coffee shop you worked at or brought him groceries, but you’d never helped him take care of his child.

you were younger than him. you’d never taken care of a child before. he was reaching 30, while you were still in your early twenties.

“okay,” he responded, completely and utterly defeated because of the baby.

he stepped out of the doorway so you could come inside. he led you to the baby’s nursery.

“i’ve been trying for hours,” he explained. “i don’t know what it is and i feel like a horrible dad for not knowing.”

“you’re not a horrible dad,” you told him. “can i see her?”

he carefully handed his child over to you. you held her like you were holding the world’s most fragile piece of china.

“why aren’t you going to sleep?” you asked her in a soft voice, slowly rocking her back and forth against your chest. “i know you’re sleepy.”

k watched you interact with his child. you were so soft and sweet and gentle with her, it made his heart swell. and you were still in your pajamas, your hair slightly messy from your pillow. he thought you were stunning.

he’d always thought you were stunning. from the day you moved in next door and brought him homemade cookies to introduce yourself, he was attracted. he had his wife then, but still allowed himself to acknowledge your beauty.

then, his wife was gone, but you were there and still so frustratingly pretty. but he never acted on it. he was almost positive you wouldn’t be interested in him. he was handsome, yes, but he was a dad and was almost 10 years older than you. you surely could have your choice of any man and he was sure that man wouldn’t be him.

k was so entranced staring at you that he hadn’t even noticed the crying sound died down, and eventually had come to an ultimate stop.

the baby fell asleep in your arms.

you ever so carefully placed her in her crib, and k watched in dismay. you casually snuck past him, leaving the room, and he followed, softly shutting the door behind him.

“how the hell did you do that?” he asked, following you into the kitchen.

“i honestly don’t know,” you admitted. “maybe she just needed a woman’s touch.”

“i don’t even know how to thank you,” he gushed.

“don’t worry about it,” you assured him sweetly. “a good night of sleep is enough for me.”

“me too,” he said. “well, thank you a ton, seriously.”

he walked you back over to the door.

“not a problem,” you responded. “goodnight.”

“goodnight,” he replied.

you walked out and back into your apartment, able to fall asleep as soon as you got back into bed.

-

a few nights later, you’d had a similar day as the one you had before. you’d worked an awful double shift and wanted nothing more than to just sleep and wake up to a better day.

you got into bed and waited. you waited for the torturous sound of that baby wailing to start up, but it never did.

you waited and waited, half waiting for yourself to fall asleep and half waiting for the crying to begin. neither happened.

you were getting more frustrated by the second. first you couldn’t fall asleep because of the sound of the baby crying but now you couldn’t fall asleep because it wasn’t crying? you were going insane, surely.

you sat up in your bed, ready to trudge to the living room to put a show on since it was clear sleep was not coming your way anytime soon.

however, before you could do that, your phone vibrated with a text message alert.

you picked it up, surprised to find it was k texting you at nearly 12 o’clock in the morning.

k - you still awake?

y/n - i am…why is it so quiet over there?

k - baby is with my parents tonight. i thought i’d fall asleep in a minute but it’s so eerily quiet that i can’t.

he was having the same exact problem you were.

y/n - agreed. i was about to go watch tv since i can’t sleep lol

k - i have a better idea

y/n - i’m listening

k - i’ve got an unopened bottle of wine calling our names.

and that was how you ended up at k’s apartment at midnight, once again in your pajamas, splitting a bottle of white wine.

“i still can’t get over how easily you got her to stop crying the other night,” k gushed, his half empty glass in his grasp.

you were both sat on his couch in his living room, close but not close enough that you were touching.

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “she must just like me.”

“yeah, well i don’t blame her,” he replied. your eyebrow raised, but before you could think about what he meant by that, he added, “it’s so weird without her here. i feel like i have all this freedom for the night and yet i’m still here in my apartment.”

“hey, you’re drinking wine with your awesome neighbor,” you said. “that’s something.”

k laughed at that, his arm snaking around the top of the couch. if you took just a few scoots closer to him, his arm would be around you.

“you’re right,” he said. “i’m surprised you came.”

“really? how come?” you wondered.

“i don’t know many people your age that would spend a friday night drinking wine with their almost 30-year-old neighbor,” he explained, taking a small sip of said wine.

“trust me, i’d much rather be here than out at a club or something,” you responded.

“yeah? how come?” he questioned.

“this is just more my vibe,” you shrugged. “plus you’re cooler than i think you give yourself credit for.”

you took a rather large sip of wine, feeling the bitter liquid waterfall down your throat and settle in your stomach. your body felt warm and your head started feeling lighter, the alcohol slowly hitting you.

“oh c’mon,” he laughed. “i’m a single dad who can’t even get my own baby to stop crying. i am not cool.”

“i think you are,” you shrugged, pressing your cheek against the couch cushion.

“well, you’re sweet,” he said.

your cheeks reddened. you pressed your face against the cushion further, trying to hide the fact that you were blushing. he’d barely said anything and yet you were already blushing.

truthfully, you had a crush on k. from the minute you’d first laid eyes on him, you could not believe he was your neighbor. you were disappointed to find out he had a wife, and secretly excited when you found out they were getting a divorce.

you wanted him and you tried your best to make that known, but it’d been months and nothing had ever happened between you two.

“don’t hide,” he laughed softly, scooting ever so slightly closer to you.

you took another sip of the wine, swallowing the rest of it. your body relaxed at the sensation of the alcohol taking over your head. you felt light like you were a speck of dust in the air.

you giggled a little, pressing your hand to your face and feeling your warm cheeks.

“are you hot?” he asked, smiling down at you.

“mhm,” you nodded. “but not as hot as you.”

yeah, you were tipsy. you never would’ve been so bold completely sober.

“oh, am i?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, taken aback by your forwardness.

“yeah,” you answered, scanning his attractive face. you bit your lower lip. “really hot.”

he chuckled, feeling himself blush like he was back in high school again. you were not yourself. you were drunk, and as much as he enjoyed seeing you flirt so shamelessly with him, he knew he couldn’t do anything about it. not that night.

“so sweet,” he cooed, “and i can say the same for you.”

“really?” you said. “you think i’m hot?”

“of course,” he responded, staring down at his hand as it inched closer to your thigh. “you’re very, very pretty.”

suddenly, his hand was on your thigh. you looked down at it, how big his hand was, how heavy and warm it felt on your leg. you placed your hand on top of his and looked back up at his face.

the tension between you two was thick. you wanted more of him and he desperately wanted more of you, but he couldn’t. what he was doing then was far enough.

he patted your thigh before removing it all together.

“you’re drunk, honey,” he said.

you pouted slightly at the loss of his hand on you.

“‘m not that drunk,” you slurred.

he laughed, standing up from the couch. he helped you rise to your feet, and you swayed slightly once you were standing.

“i disagree,” he replied. “c’mon, i’ll walk you back.”

you tried to hide the fact that you were sulking as he walked you back to your own apartment. he kept a firm grip on your arm to keep you from stumbling.

you fumbled with the lock and key before getting the door to your apartment open and stepping inside. you and k walked to your bedroom. he lifted the covers for you and helped you slide in.

“comfy?” he asked, tucking you in sweetly.

“mhm,” you hummed, your eyelids suddenly growing heavy. “k?”

“yeah?”

“will you stay until i fall asleep?”

it was a silly request. you were a grown woman and you didn’t need your neighbor to stay with you until you fell asleep, but you wanted him around. his company made you feel safe and warm.

he smiled at your sweet words.

“yeah,” he assured you. “i’ll stay.”

he moved to sit on the other side of your bed, his back propped up against your array of pillows. he didn’t try to touch you or hold you, just simply laid beside you.

with the state you were in, it didn’t take you long to fall asleep at all. two minutes and you were out like a light.

k stayed for a bit longer, examining your delicate face and the steady rhythm of your chest rising up and down. he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

-

your head was pounding the minute you woke up and you were immediately mortified in remembrance of what you did yesterday.

flirting with your older, recently divorced neighbor? what were you thinking?

half asleep, you grabbed your phone from off your nightstand and located your text messages with him.

y/n - k, i’m so sorry about yesterday

next door, k was already awake, standing in front of the coffee machine and eagerly awaiting for his cup to be brewed. he noticed his phone vibrate and was delighted to find a text message from you.

he was surprised that you were apologizing.

k - good morning. sorry for what?

y/n - the way i acted. i know it was inappropriate so i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable :(

you were so shy and innocent, k actually thought it was cute: the fact that you were apologizing for simply calling him hot yesterday.

k - you have nothing to apologize for, y/n. it was actually really nice drinking with you. we should do it again sometime.

the contents of his text woke you up slightly. you were surprised he actually wanted to do it again after the way you acted.

you sent him a response telling him you would love that before turning your phone back off and going back to sleep in hopes that your hangover would feel better once you woke up.

-

the flat screen tv in front of you played a romantic comedy, one you weren’t really paying any attention to. you couldn’t, not with k sitting right next to you, close enough that your legs were touching.

his body heat was radiating off of him like a furnace, making your own body warm. his eyes were glued to the screen, you found when you glanced over at him.

feeling your eyes on him, he looked back at you, offering you a sly grin.

it was a few days later since you’d last gone over to his place. this time, you weren’t going to let yourself get so drunk in front of him. you didn’t need to embarrass yourself again.

again, his baby was staying with his parents leaving the apartment all to himself, which made it the perfect night to invite you over for a movie.

“you okay?” he asked.

“yeah,” you affirmed, blushing from being caught looking at him.

he chuckled breathily, suddenly taking the initiative to wrap his arm around you. a part of you had been waiting for him to do so all night.

you felt relaxed as your head rested on his shoulder. he caressed your arm with his thumb, looking back to the screen like what he was doing wasn’t a big deal.

it wasn’t a big deal. all he’d done was put his arm around you, yet you were freaking out internally. just his touch alone was enough to drive you crazy.

it didn’t help that he looked so good that night too. you were used to seeing him in business and formal clothes, but he was dressed comfortable and casually then in gray sweatpants and a hoodie, and he looked amazing. he smelled so good too. you were practically writhing beside him.

he noticed your restlessness, your fidgeting, your occasional glances at him.

“are you tired?” he asked. “we can finish the movie another night if you wanna get some sleep.”

“no, no, i’m not tired,” you assured. “just…”

you trailed off, too embarrassed to tell him you were so distracted and fidgety because of him.

“just what?”

the way he was looking at you didn’t help your case. his gaze made your squirm, crossing your legs and arms over yourself like you were trying to hide from him.

“i-i don’t…”

you were pathetic, truly. you couldn’t even utter out a sentence.

“you’re cute,” k said, chuckling at your state. “is it because i put my arm around you? i can move it if you’d like.”

“no, i like it,” you assured, placing your hand on top of his wrist to keep it where it was. “i like having your hands on me.”

like a switch was flipped, the atmosphere suddenly changed. k’s eyebrow raised slightly, surprised by your entirely sober words.

“oh yeah?” he asked, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly.

“mhm,” you hummed, feeling your heart start to beat faster.

“where else do you want my hands?” he wondered, a flirtatious tone to his voice. he moved his hand up to the back of your head, feeling your hair. “want them in your hair?”

your squeezed your thighs together with need. his words were making you more aroused by the second.

“no,” you answered.

“no?” he repeated, moving his hand down to your chin. he tilted your head to face him, your faces close. “how about here?”

you gulped, your eyes flickering down to his lips. suddenly, you were overcome with the need to have them on you, to feel them against your own. luckily, k seemed to have the same idea.

he leaned in and connected your lips together in a slow, deep kiss. your jaw fell slack right away, accepting his lips against your own and letting him take the ropes, knowing you would follow.

you found yourself shifting closer to his body, your hand snaking around his neck. you slid your fingers into his dark hair and tugged slightly on the roots, pushing his lips against you harder.

that encouraged him to slide his tongue into your mouth, where you proceeded to rub yours against him, tasting him and exchanging your saliva.

he eventually departed from your lips and trailed down to your neck, where he sucked on your sensitive skin. you gasped, throwing your head back slightly to give him better access.

while he kissed and nibbled on your neck, his hands trailed down your waist, rubbing your sides. his touch felt electric, unlike any other way you’d felt when other guys had touched you before.

k wasn’t like any of the other guys though. he was older and thus more experienced. it was like he knew your body better than you did because every touch he delivered to you felt amazing.

his hand slid under your shirt, caressing your warm bare skin. he trailed up to your bare breast, giving it a soft squeeze.

“fuck,” you whispered when his thumb grazed over your erect nipple.

“this okay?” he asked, glancing up at you.

“yes,” you answered. “please.”

“please what?” he asked, pulling your shirt up so it exposed your tits to him. “what do you need, sweetheart?”

“need you to touch me,” you told him, an underlying tone of desperation in your voice.

“i am touching you,” he responded, tweaking your nipple in between his slim fingers.

“more,” you cried out, jutting your hips up so he would get the idea of where you needed his touch.

he knew, even without you practically shoving it in his face. he could tell you were pent up and was eager to touch your pussy anyway, knowing it was probably absolutely drenched in your arousal.

“okay, baby,” he complied, hooking his fingers into your waistband. “i’ll give you what you want.”

he slid your pants down your legs, leaving you in just a pair of lacy baby blue underwear. he swallowed at the sight, at his beautiful neighbor who was sprawled out half naked on his couch, writhing for him.

“fuck,” he whispered, stroking your smooth inner thighs. “you are fucking beautiful.”

he was truly astonished, taking in your body in such dismay. he couldn’t believe you were all his to play with for the night.

finally, he reached out and rubbed your pussy over your underwear. your arousal was quick to seep through the fabric, making it stick to your pussy and accentuate your clit and folds.

k could feel the heat and wetness radiating through and wanted nothing more to stick his head between your thighs and lick the fabric until you were kicking him away from the overstimulation.

instead, he slid your panties down your legs and spread your knees apart. your pussy was glistening in arousal, begging silently to be played with.

you were slightly embarrassed, truth be told. this was your neighbor, your neighbor who you met while he was still married with a newborn child, and now you were naked on his couch, your pussy shamelessly on display right in front of him.

you turned your head to the side, hoping that if you didn’t watch, it would be less embarrassing for you.

k slid his middle and ring fingers up your slit, gathering the excess amount of arousal and spreading it all over your pussy. he ended up at your clit, rubbing it slowly.

you let out a pathetic moan, eyes rolling back into your head.

“you’re so sensitive,” he commented, sliding his fingers up and down your pussy again. “i’ve barely done anything and you’re soaked. does it really feel that good, baby?”

“yes,” you answered, trying to grind your hips against his fingers for more. “feels so fucking good, k. i need more.”

again, he gave you what you wanted. he slid his two fingers into your needy hole with ease from the built up arousal. you immediately clenched around the long digits, gasping at the intrusion.

“fuck!” you squealed, slapping a hand over your mouth.

k really liked how responsive you were to even his slightest touch. he wasn’t even moving his fingers, letting you adjust to the size of them, and yet you were moaning so prettily and feeling so good already.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he muttered. “you feel so good around my fingers.”

you clenched around him at the praise. he slowly began moving his fingers inside you, pulling them out slightly and pushing them back in, massaging your walls.

the sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your hole was lewd and loud and humiliating, but by then, you were already too far gone to care. besides, k thought it was just about the hottest thing ever: the noise, your body, your reactions, you.

he brought his thumb up to your clit and rubbed it in little circles while continuing to finger you. you grabbed his wrist, your chest heaving and making you pant like a dog.

“oh my god, k,” you cried out, your thighs starting to shake from how hard he was finger fucking. “i’m close.”

“yeah?” he responded. “you gonna cum all over my fingers?”

“yes!” you exclaimed, your stomach tightening as it started approaching at a record fast pace.

“fuck,” he muttered, feeling his cock twitch in his sweatpants. “be a good girl and cum for me then.”

you complied to his words, the knot in your stomach unraveling. you clenched as his fingers slammed in and out of your pussy, giving you the most out of your orgasm as you could get.

you moaned pathetically, your hips riding his fingers uncontrollably. your toes curled and your eyes rolled and it was by the far the hardest you’d ever cum in your life.

k watched in awe, feeling like he could cum with one stroke of his cock because of how turned on he was by watching you. you were such a grand sight and he couldn’t believe your reaction was all because of him.

he needed more of you.

“let’s go to my room,” he urged, helping you off the couch.

he lead the way down the hall to his bedroom, a room you’d never seen before. he immediately got on the bed and you followed, your lower half bare as you straddled his clothed lap.

he wrapped his arms around your waist and attached his lips back to your lips again. it was sloppier than your first kiss, but the eagerness and lust was evident. you just needed to feel each other and be as close as humanly possible.

he was quick to slide out of his sweatpants, revealing his long and thick cock that you just knew was by far the biggest out of anyone you’d been with. the thought of it being inside you made you gulp.

“you can take it,” he whispered reassuringly. “lay on your back, baby.”

you climbed off of his lap and laid flat on your back like he instructed you to do. he grabbed your thighs in his dominating hands and spread them apart, revealing your pussy. it was visibly wet and ready for him.

“please,” you whispered in desperation while he stared at your cunt.

“what do you want, baby?” he asked, a slight tease in his tone. “want me to fuck you? is that it?”

“yes!” you cried out. “please just fuck me, k.”

“fuck, angel,” he growled, wrapping his hand around his cock. “you make it hard to say no.”

he jerked himself for a moment before aligning his pink tip with your hole. just the contact alone made your body feel like it was electric. you could only imagine how it would feel when he was really inside you.

he found your hand, intertwining your fingers together as he slowly slid his length inside you. you winced, his size way bigger than anything you were used to. yet at the same time, the pain felt good because it was k.

he squeezed your hand once he was all the way inside, your pelvises pressed together.

“you okay?” he asked, leaning down to place a comforting kiss on your forehead.

you looked up at him. his dark hair was falling into his eyes, his cheeks with a rosy hue, and all in all, he looked stunning. you could feel it in your chest that you were falling in love with him.

you reached up, pressing your hand to the back of his neck. you pushed slightly to get him to come back down to your face level and connected your lips together. he smiled against your mouth, kissing you deeply and warmly.

after a few minutes, he started moving. he pulled out about halfway before slowing pushing his cock back inside you. your cunt gripped him so fucking tightly that k felt lightheaded every time he felt his tip hit the back of it.

he had a tight embrace on your waist, keeping you from squirming around as a result of his big intrusion inside of you. it felt incredible to be stuffed full of him and slowly the pain disintegrated into pleasure.

he pulled out and thrusted back in, your walls sucking him in and squeezing around his thick length.

“fuck,” he cursed, tossing his head back to reveal his pretty neck. “relax, angel. you’re so fucking tight when you clench like that.”

“c-can’t help it,” you sputtered, feeling your body move slightly up the bed every time he thrusted. “feels so full.”

“yeah?” he exhaled. “you nice and full of my cock?”

you whimpered, tossing your head to the side as he quickened his pace, ramming into you. the sound of skin slapping against each other and your pussy squelching from the wetness was lewd and loud and embarrassing, yet you felt too good to care.

he was so much more experienced than anyone else you’d been with before, it was obvious. the way he moved his hips and the way his cock would go slow and deep, then hard and rough, keeping you guessing of what he was going to do next. it was exciting to be fucking him after the lust you’d felt for so long.

embarrassing as it was, you already felt yourself getting close.

“k,” you cried out, squeezing his biceps. “‘m close.”

“yeah?” he replied, his cheeks a rosy red from how hard he was fucking you. “you gonna cum around my cock? go ahead, baby. you’ve been so good for me.”

you slapped your hand over your mouth and finally let go, your toes curling. k groaned at the sight and at the feeling of you cumming, his cock twitching inside you.

“fuck, you’re fucking perfect,” he mumbled, leaning down to plant his lips against yours again.

“daddy,” you whimpered out. “feels so good.”

he moaned at the name, feeling his abs clench. you couldn’t get any better than this. you were better and hotter than he ever could’ve imagined you’d be.

he brought his fingers down to rub your clit in little circles, eager to feel you cum for a second time. you gasped, feeling overstimulated and sensitive but you didn’t want him to stop. the moment was too good, so good that you truly never wanted it to stop.

he was fucking you so hard and perfectly, ruthlessly chasing his own orgasm. you just knew you’d be sore in the morning but you didn’t care because you knew it’d just remind you of how good that night was.

“you gonna let me cum inside you?” he asked breathlessly as he slowly felt his high approaching. “gonna let me fill your pretty pussy with all my cum?”

“please!” you nearly sobbed, looking up at him with the prettiest big eyes. “please, daddy. cum inside me.”

“you’re so fuckin’ hot when you call me that,” he practically growled, digging his fingernails into your hips. “gonna fill you so good.”

“please,” you begged pathetically. “i need it.”

k sighed, feeling lightheaded from how tightly your pussy gripped him, how hot and wet it was. just the idea of filling you up to the brim was making him twitch.

“good little cum slut,” he mumbled. “gonna take everything i give you.”

“fuck k,” you cried. “i’m gonna cum again.”

“wait,” he commanded. “cum at the same time as me. can you do that, angel? can you hold it for just a little longer?”

you bit your lip, trying to distract yourself so you didn’t cum too soon. if k told you to do something, you were going to do it.

“okay,” you responded shakily.

“don’t worry, sweetheart,” he cooed. “i’m so close.”

you shut your eyes, relishing in the sensation of his cock absolutely railing in and out of your cunt like a piston.

k stared at your face, admiring your pure beauty. you were even prettier than normal when you were underneath him, on the verge of another orgasm.

just by looking at you, he was about to finish.

“shit,” he groaned. “i’m gonna cum, baby.”

the idea of k filling you up immediately had your stomach clenching. your body heated up like you were on fire and you just knew you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“i’m cumming,” you cried out, eyes rolling back into your head.

k moaned and cursed your name as spurts of his cum filled your pussy. you milked him for all he was worth, insuring that he gave you every single last drop.

he buried his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your skin as he went through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

you felt high. you’d never been fucked so good before, never came three times all in one night.

it took a few minutes, but eventually k pulled out of you. he watched in awe as what was practically a fountain of cum came gushing out of your spent cunt.

“fuck,” he mumbled, watching it spill onto his sheets. “so pretty.”

you watched, dazed and exhausted, as he disappeared to grab a towel and returned shortly after. you were too tired to do anything, so you let him clean you up and get you redressed in some shorts and one of his t-shirts.

he put his pants on and crawled underneath the covers, pulling you into his chest.

“how was that?” he asked, kissing the top of your head.

“i don’t think there are any words to describe to you how good that was,” you remarked.

he chuckled breathily, nodding.

“i agree.”

it didn’t take you long to fall asleep at all. you were completely comfortable and relaxed around him.

on the other hand, k couldn’t fall asleep for the life of him. all he could do was lay there with you in his safe embrace, thinking about how he was falling deeply for you, his sweet younger neighbor.

[reallyromealone]

Seconde chapter of little god?

It just came out so you dont have to

Title: little god 2

Fandom: Jujutsu kaisen

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Megumi, itadori, nobara

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: -

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, child reader fluff, god reader

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Every morning was the same routine, Gojo woke up his tiny son who ran around in circles in the yard before coming in for some breakfast that consisted of a variety of foods for the little gods health, (name) pleased as he ate fish and other dishes "thank you papa!" He said as his tail swished, dressed in a more casual yukata compared to his godlier look "no prob, kiddo" Gojo said as he drank his coffee and ate his own meal, smiling at the difference in their tableware.

(Name) Had a cute kid set with zoo animals and plastic cutlery and Gojo with nice china "so today, we get to meet friends of papa"

"Su?"

"No no, not Suguru but he will be there later" Gojo chuckled as the boy looked confused "they're papas students, remember how I told you that I was a teacher?"

" we go?"

"After breakfast we are going" Gojo said happily and (name) bounced excitedly and continued eating his food.

(Name) Sat on his dad's arm as he was carried into the school grounds and Gojo watched as his kid sniffed around curiously "you sniffing, bud?" Gojo teased his son who looked focused "monster" (name) said as coldly as a toddler could as he locked onto Yuji who was waiting with the others at the steps "you can smell sukuna?" Gojo asked and (name) hissed at the mention of the king of curses "you know him?"

"Smelly man"

Gojo cackled at his son who wiggled to be put down, holding his dad's hand as they walked to the student's who looked at the child curious "uh, should a child be here?" Nobara asked as the little one dead stared Yuji "(name), these are papas students" Gojo pushed the boy forward "this is (name), he's my son~ isn't that right?" He crouched to the toddler who pulled some coins and held them out to the teens "it's you!" A mouth opened from Yuji's cheek "smelly!" (Name) Yelled angrily as his horns appeared "whoa, dont go fighting" Gojo held his son back who was ready to throw down.

"Pathetic little cretin, I could rip you--""aaand that's enough!" Gojo lifted his hellion son who tried kicking his dad's student with a growl "we will train at 1130, head to class you three!" he said cheerfully and took his little one away, Yuji tripping up the stairs as if he had two left feet "did you give him misfortune?" Gojo asked the tot who looked angry and frustrated "I know you don't like sukuna, none of us do but you can't hurt my student" he scolded the boy who pouted.

(Name) Was eating salmon and broccoli with cheese while his dad trained the students, abandoning the chop sticks in favor for his dragon form, tail swishing happily as he dived in. "Alright, we will be splitting into twos, let's work with people you aren't used to being teamed with" Gojo paired them up, seeing as his son watched curiously now in human form, face messy as his chubby hands held a piece of salmon "let's do some sparing, I will be right back" Gojo walked to his son and lifted him up "let's clean you up"

"I heard you had a son, didn't believe it" a Zenin clan higher up stated while staring at the toddler, the Gojo duo walking to the rest room "I do have a son, is that a problem?" Gojo stated coldly while adjusting the boy who looked between them, seeing papas glare and decided to match it.

Is it true he's... A god?" They tried to step closer but Gojos infinity halted him from doing so "if you don't mind, we have some business to attend to" the two walked off and (name) stuck his tongue at the Zenin member who glared back.

(Name) Let his dad wash him up, babbling nonsense happily "after school, uncle Suguru is meeting us to take you shopping" Gojo spoke softly, he loved telling his son everything that was happening and their plan. He wanted his son to be included and able to make choices- something he didn't get as a child.

"Susu?" (Name) Asked curiously and Gojo chuckled "yeah, susu"