This wasn’t okay, you were married. Gojo didn’t seem to care, not when he was pushing you into his apartment. His lips were firmly on yours, his arms snaked around your waist. This wasn’t alright. And you knew it, this was cheating. Your spouse was at work.

“Here, just take this off.” Your neighbor was now unzipping your dress, slowly sliding it off of your body. He couldn’t help it. You were so beautiful to him, extraordinary in this ordinary world. He wanted you to be his, not your spouse’s.

You’d met him a few weeks ago, when you were grocery shopping and your spouse was at home bringing in furniture. You had a great conversation with him, and then found out he lived next door. That was a coincidence.

And then he winked at you, but that wasn’t a coincidence. You hadn’t taken it seriously, but this man was now flirting with you. And it’d go on for weeks. Every day, he’d compliment your hair, your makeup, your outfit, anything. It always made you flustered, even if your spouse was around. Oh, right. Your spouse.

You tried pulling away, but he wouldn’t let you, and then you gave in again. Gojo had you against a wall, wrists pinned to the cold surface, still kissing you. His apartment was luxurious, all types of expensive objects around. It probably costed more than you would ever make.

“You’re gorgeous, y’know.” He pulled away from the kiss, now focusing on slipping off the dress you bought recently. His touch was warm, his long fingers gliding and admiring your skin. You were his to worship.