An Autistic Child Has A Meltdown In Public. People Respond By Saying That The Child Deserves A Beating.

“Some years ago, I was stuck on a crosstown bus in New York City during rush hour. Traffic was barely moving. The bus was filled with cold, tired people who were deeply irritated—with one another; with the rainy, sleety weather; with the world itself. Two men barked at each other about a shove that might or might not have been intentional. A pregnant woman got on, and nobody offered her a seat. Rage was in the air; no mercy would be found here.

But as the bus approached Seventh Avenue, the driver got on the intercom. “Folks,” he said, “I know you’ve had a rough day and you’re frustrated. I can’t do anything about the weather or traffic, but here’s what I can do. As each one of you gets off the bus, I will reach out my hand to you. As you walk by, drop your troubles into the palm of my hand, okay? Don’t take your problems home to your families tonight—just leave ‘em with me. My route goes right by the Hudson River, and when I drive by there later, I’ll open the window and throw your troubles in the water. Sound good?”

It was as if a spell had lifted. Everyone burst out laughing. Faces gleamed with surprised delight. People who’d been pretending for the past hour not to notice each other’s existence were suddenly grinning at each other like, is this guy serious?

Oh, he was serious.

At the next stop—just as promised—the driver reached out his hand, palm up, and waited. One by one, all the exiting commuters placed their hand just above his and mimed the gesture of dropping something into his palm. Some people laughed as they did this, some teared up—but everyone did it. The driver repeated the same lovely ritual at the next stop, too. And the next. All the way to the river.

We live in a hard world, my friends. Sometimes it’s extra difficult to be a human being. Sometimes you have a bad day. Sometimes you have a bad day that lasts for several years. You struggle and fail. You lose jobs, money, friends, faith, and love. You witness horrible events unfolding in the news, and you become fearful and withdrawn. There are times when everything seems cloaked in darkness. You long for the light but don’t know where to find it.

But what if you are the light? What if you’re the very agent of illumination that a dark situation begs for?

That’s what this bus driver taught me—that anyone can be the light, at any moment. This guy wasn’t some big power player. He wasn’t a spiritual leader. He wasn’t some media-savvy “influencer.” He was a bus driver—one of society’s most invisible workers. But he possessed real power, and he used it beautifully for our benefit.

When life feels especially grim, or when I feel particularly powerless in the face of the world’s troubles, I think of this man and ask myself, What can I do, right now, to be the light? Of course, I can’t personally end all wars, or solve global warming, or transform vexing people into entirely different creatures. I definitely can’t control traffic. But I do have some influence on everyone I brush up against, even if we never speak or learn each other’s name. How we behave matters because within human society everything is contagious—sadness and anger, yes, but also patience and generosity. Which means we all have more influence than we realize.

No matter who you are, or where you are, or how mundane or tough your situation may seem, I believe you can illuminate your world. In fact, I believe this is the only way the world will ever be illuminated—one bright act of grace at a time, all the way to the river.“

–Elizabeth Gilbert

EX-RiNG-FINGER. toji fushiguro

★ summary: perhaps going to your ex-husband‘s costume party wasn‘t the brightest idea.

cw: f! reader, dílf ex-husband!toji, he‘s possessive/clingy, degradation, pwp, quickie, praising, dirty talk, oral (f), overstim, brat taming, hair pulling, size kink, spanks, breeding kink, he’s mean but gets soft in the end, prone bone, reader & toji has 2 kids, angsty unhappy ending ;) (pet names: darling, sweetheart, baby)

★ note: HEY luvs, been a min! this can be read as a follow-up to tinder leg binder — ur choice! heavily inspired from try me by the weeknd :) happy father’s day 2 the #1 daddy toji !!!

STARBOY M.LiST

“ . . . Darlin’,” You let off a silent blow, pausing dead in your tracks once you spotted Toji— your ex-husband of three years. The ballroom was loud, blaring with booming music, you recognized a lot of Toji‘s friends and co-workers scattered everywhere, socializing with one another in their costumes for the event. Toji stood tall, intimidatingly with both hands buried into his pockets. He wore a black tuxedo— a matching grey tie along with long jet-black slacks and similar shoes to go along with the outfit. He looked suave. Your guess was that he was James Bond from the infamous 007 action movie. “You look gorgeous,” he muttered, snapping you out of your thoughts. You stared up at him, clenching onto your martini glass as he spoke. “I was staring to think you wasn‘t gonna show. But you always do. Like a good girl.”

You narrowed your eyes at Toji before staring up at him, and he‘s still showcasing that same arrogant smug expression on his face. “….I only came to say congratulations for starting your new business, Toji,” you muttered, taking another sip of your drink. “That‘s all.”

“Hmm,” Toji hums, glancing around the ballroom before placing his hands on his hips, his green eyes practically undressing you. “Oh. I get it. Heh. You showed up with a little date, right? What a shame. I‘d love to meet the lucky guy. Let him know who he’s dealing with,” and then Toji smugly snickers. “Warn him much of a brat you are.”

“You never changed,” you spoke in a vexed tone, ignoring his remark. Toji‘s eyebrows slightly raised as he listens to you speak, the way he gave you his uninvited attention never failed to make you somewhat remotely nervous. “What do you want Toji?” and his green eyes stares into yours, his gaze a bit more stoic he was always very hard to read. “Just spit it out already.”

Toji takes your martini glass that was halfway filled with some sweet tangy liquor drink, and he drank it up— you glared at him, and he chuckles lowly before swiping a tongue against his lips, staring back down at you. “Well, since you asked sweetheart, I . . . just wanna talk. A good mature talk with my pretty little wife,” and Toji walks a bit closer towards you, you stand still as he brings a hand towards your face, using the soft pad of his thumb to wipe some of the excess drink from the very side of your lip. “Alone.”

“If you‘re gonna start dating again, at least pick someone that looks better than me, baby.” Toji chuckles as you sat on his bed. The bed that used to be yours and his— you just decided to be reasonable and hear Toji out, and by the sounds of it he sounds very jealous. You weren‘t dating anyone actually, you brought a friend but, still. You glared at him and he hums to himself before bringing his glass up to his lips— taking another long sip before speaking again in a gruff gravely voice. “Heh. I bet he can‘t make you wet like I can.”

You blink twice, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared up at Toji and you wanted to wipe that smirk right clean from his face. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me little girl,” Toji replies, walking towards you. He makes you stand up and you suddenly grow weak in the knees — Toji looks down at you, and he makes you stare at him, lightly bringing a hand on your chin to face him since you‘ve always sucked at eye contact. The familiar scent of his cologne— it was always so intoxicating, making you dizzy from how good it smelt— making him even more attractive than he already was. “Giving me attitude and back talk,” he scoffs, “When was the last time you’ve got fucked right, baby? And I mean properly.”

Immediately, you felt your face get hot. Was he serious? Then again— it never surprised you, you lived, married, and had children with this smug, conceited arrogant epitome of a man. But you loved him, maybe a part of you still did.

Your eyebrows formed to another furrow the more he stared at you with those haughty green eyes of his. “…I don’t have to tell you anything, Toji. I saw you talking with that woman downstairs by the piano. I’m sure she’s dying for you to fuck her.”

Toji swiftly rolls his eyes at your answer. “Why fuck her when I can fuck my pretty girl right now instead?” And he brings a hand up to your lavish expensive necklace that shimmered against the reflecting light of the chandelier that was directly shoved the two of you. Whilst doing so— you spotted Toji still wearing his wedding ring. Even after three years. You stared at him, feeling the room suddenly get hot all of a sudden. There was no noise being created except for the blaring hearing of your own heartbeat pulsing out of your chest practically, and the sounds of the near deafening classical music blasting downstairs with the guests socializing and having a good time together.

“….Don‘t call me that.” You muttered. Hearing him address you as his wife did something to you.

“Or what?” He raises his eyebrows out of pure amusement. “I can call you anything I want and you’ll still get wet from it like a nasty girl. It’s pretty damn funny,” and you gulp quietly, watching Toji lean up close directly against your ear. “You used to love hearing me call you princess and baby,” he slyly speaks, and you feel him plant a kiss near the left side of your neck, “Orrrrr if we were nasty, my little whore or bitch. You really liked that, didn’t you, darlin’?”

“…………”

“Awww,” Toji purrs seductively, real low before staring back up at you, his black hair was slightly messy— even more so after he ran a hand through it. “You miss me. You miss your loving baby daddy. So cute I—”

“Shut up, Toji.” You glared, tugging down on your dark black dress that hugged your figures and curves perfectly.

“Oh yeah?” He cackles, and buried his hands in his long black slack pockets once more. Toji was just so smug, his tone was full of it completely before that same annoying smirk pressed against his pink lips. “Make me.”

And you definitely made him shut up alright— with his face in between your thighs, eating you out like an absolute starved man.

“….Tojiiiii….” you gasped, laid back against the bed, head pressed against the fat satin black colored pillow. If Toji was good at anything, it was eating a girl out— he could work his tongue for hours, no matter if tears streamed down your face or you try to pry him off while you’re still extremely overly sensitive. “F-Fuck,” you whined, and his tongue laid flat against your folds, he was nose deep— the very tip of cartilage swiping against your cunt like a credit card. His green eyes occasionally flicked up at you— and he gripped onto your thighs firmly. Toji didn‘t even have the decency to take off your dress yet, he just casually rolled it up and got straight to eating his favorite meal.

Your eyes nearly started to roll into the very very depths of your skull, his tongue eliciting all sorts of whiney moans from the back of your throat. You couldn‘t lie to yourself— you missed Toji, or maybe that was your pussy talking for you. His tongue, you missed a lot, and especially with how sloppy he was. Toji was always a messy eater, spitting all over your sopping folds— watching some of his own spit trickle down between your slit only to lick it up again— lapping with his tongue before sliding a finger inside of your cunt . . easily sucking it in. His chin was sheeny, covered with your slick, yet Toji could care less.

“Dammit…. T-Toji… we need to go downstairs,” you moaned, a hand reaching into his messy hair, pulling him briefly to look up at you. “You’re gonna have your toast w-with the other guests soon…”

His was so pussy drunk within a few minutes, he looks up at you with a mere glare— jade colored eyes narrowing while he slides his tongue between your pearly nub to watch your thighs shake beneath his grip. “The party can wait sweetheart,” he mumbles, bringing a single kiss to your cunt before grazing a thumb down your slit before spanking it— making you let off a surprised moan. “This pretty wet pussy can’t.”

Your mouth slightly goes agape— a tiny whimper leaving your dampened lips, legs continuing to shake and shake as if it was a violent rumbling roar of an incoming earthquake. “Gonna.. cum againnn Toji…..” you babble, and he chuckles once your right leg starts to shake again. He teases you a lot by occasionally stopping and pausing the amazing stimulation — coating your inner thighs with dampened kisses, licking anywhere and everywhere but your poor now neglected pussy and you whimper. “Toji,” you whined, eyebrows starting to furrow and curl together. You chased your own breath like a cat chases a mouse, going on such a crazed high. “Fuck- fuckkkk— Toji…..”

“Heheh,” Toji lowly chuckles— and he‘s disregarding your moans completely. He takes a few moments to depart, creating bite marks near your thighs, tongue softly grazing against the crevices of your legs before diving right back in again. “Funny how your little bratty attitude always disappears whenever I’m eating you out,” and the most sensational rippling orgasm rips out of you— your legs shaking between his firm rough hands that gripped your thighs. Your eyes roll back as you laid slumped on the bed— exhausted while Toji slurps you clean, lapping your savory honeyed slick like a dog. “You don‘t know how much I’ve missed my favorite pussy.”

You whimper— feeling Toji start to eat you out again after your overly dramatic climax, eyes widening as you tugged on his long black strands, a cute attempt to pry him off. “Toji o-okay okay… just fuck me already..”

“Oh? Made up your mind, darlin’?” Toji mutters, sitting up and pushing your body closer towards him. He looked down at you and his stare was so incredibly captivating— pink glistening lips still sheeny with your slick on him, he made a quick swipe, licking his lips clean, tongue simultaneously sliding against his scar and it had no reason being that sexy. Toji leans up close to you, using a thumb to playfully pull your bottom lip flat the more he stared into your eyes. “Just tell me you want me. Tell me you want me and I’ll make you forget all about that dumb date you came here with,” and his eyes lowers, leaning closer towards your face. “Let your husband show how much he‘s missed his pretty wife.”

You nearly let off a whine, feeling Toji bring a knee between your legs— still incredibly sensitive as you glanced up at him. You hated how much of an effect he had on you— even after three years of being divorced. The both of you were always faithful and committed to each other, no one cheated and there were hardly any arguments. But it’s just a way of life, perhaps the two of you got married at the wrong time, besides you’ve always expressed openly on your opinion on how you hated his deadly job of being an assassin. Warning him one day he’d end up in a body bag someday, you’d be a widow alone with your two children he gave you. Toji— like the prideful arrogant man he is, would always reassure you though, that nothing would ever happen to him.

You wanted to believe him. You did.

Little did you know how that would catch up to you in the long run.

But at this moment, you didn‘t care. You missed Toji, it’s been too long— you can’t even remember the last time you’ve even touched yourself. Work and the kids always kept you busy.

“I want you Toji. Please..” You mumbled.

“Aw. I know you do sweetheart,” he coos in a low tone, there‘s a certain rasp to it to make you flutter in not just your heart— but between your legs too. Toji lightly wraps a hand around your neck, and pulls you into a deep and passionate kiss. It was so abrupt, you didn‘t expect it as he caressed a thumb against the middle part of your neck. You moaned in his mouth, it was such a salacious scene of tasting yourself on your ex-husband‘s tongue along with the strong, sweet tang of whiskey on his tongue. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest as you felt his tongue rub against yours, it was sloppy— even so it only made you let off another whine, feeling Toji graze a hand up your thigh, the slit of your long pitch-black dress exposing your leg briefly as a hand starts to rub against your exposed clit— white laced panties lazily pushed aside by him. To be fair, Toji Fushiguro was never one to take your panties off, he‘s the type to eat a woman out with them still on— he’s always been the kind.

Once he breaks the kiss, you nearly gasp for air, almost feeling dizzy. “Prone bone.” is all he says. Two simple words for such a sultry position, one of his favorites to do on you, and it was as if your body immediately knew what to do.

“But— my dress….” You huffed.

“Nah. Leave it on. We‘ll be quick,” he mumbles, and you lay on your chest on the bed— feeling Toji softly slide his rough hands to pull up your dress, he felt himself grow hard the more he stared at your body, the pretty stockings you wore— hugging against your thighs before you hear him fiddle with his belt. “Been three damn years. Bet I‘ll have to stretch my pretty baby all for me.”

You let off a soft noise, feeling Toji raise your hips up just a bit towards him— it was like doggy, but more sensual, a more thorough way to get deep between your walls which was exactly his intention. “Hurry t-the fuck up Toji or the party‘s gonna be over and—”

“Don‘t rush me little girl,” Toji grumbles, giving your ass a spank and you whine. Right then, you let off a soft moan— feeling Toji rub his angry red reddened tip against your folds. “Mmm,” he kisses his teeth, and he starts to sink himself in, completely stretching you to the maximum point. A pretty whine rips out of your mouth, Toji kneels just a bit further, both of his hands pressed against the smoothness skin of your back before grunting. “Good girl. Don‘t arch that pretty back, just lie— flat down . . and take this dick. It’s missed you a lot. Heh.”

“Stretching me, Toji,” you whimpered, softly nibbling on your bottom lip— your mouth slightly opened, feeling his length hug tight against your walls. He lets off a grunt, a low one that‘s filled with such rasp it makes your desperate pudenda twitch and pulsate. “F-Fuck.. ’s big..”

Toji hums smugly to himself, and you let off a gasp, feeling him drag both of your arms, pinning them behind your back, holding both with one hand with ease before he presents a steady pace only to start meanly drilling into you. “Squeezin’ down on me so tight darlin’. . . ,” he grunts— and you let off another choked gasp, Toji taking you roughly from behind, both of your wrists restrained by him. A tiny smirk tugs on his lips even though Toji can‘t physically see you as he‘s jackhammering his hardened length between your slipper folds, he’d bet good money your mouth’s all open, eyes rolling back to very very end of your cranium. “Tell me something baby,” Toji sniggers, and each spot makes you moan for him louder and louder. “You let anyone else touch her?”

“Touch….? Touch who..?” You stammered cutely.

“Touch my pussy, whore,” he growls, spanking your ass and you swear underneath your breath. Toji‘s weight slightly hovers over you ass his hips continue to strike against you, it feels so good, you almost forgot how good of a fuck your husband was.

Ex-husband anyway.

Only he knew all the spots and angles, the areas to make you whine and scream— and he carried that fact with him proudly as if it was a trophy.

“No…” You moaned, your voice a bit shaky as he still gripped onto your wrists, biting your lip.

“Ya sure, baby?” He replies, and his tone is full of smugness, you always hated how condescending he was— so annoying, always having the last and final say in things, that annoying smirk forever and always plastered on him — oh, how you‘ve always dreamt of just wiping it off his face. “You don’t gotta lie to me, hon. It’s okay if you were a little horny while we were divorced, heh.”

You swallow whatever source of pride you had left, not even caring anymore— your body got shivers from feeling his fingertips start to ghost against the strap that hung over your shoulder from your dress. “Maybe a few… one n-night stands.”

“Awww,” he purrs, and you feel him repeatedly piston his hips against you from behind— going mad with his thrusts to where it has you babbling words of complete nothings. “Any of your little bitches fuck like me though? Bet they can‘t. This pretty pussy stays all wet just—” and he pauses, letting off a mean low grunt, “Just for me,” and his voice lowers an octave, it‘s an almost seductive whisper, it sends you shivers everywhere, the feeling of Toji‘s weight primarily being against you— casually taking you from being and snatching off such moans from your throat, it felt way too good— you even started to question why the two of you divorced in the first place. “Such a pretty girl.”

Bawling the black satin sheets into your hand, you whine, feeling him drag his left hand to hold towards the back of your neck as he kept up a pace— all you could hear was Toji‘s smug laughter, you nearly gagged, feeling him suddenly shove his fingers into your mouth and he didn‘t expect you to start sucking on them. “So nasty for me,” he grunts, the crown of his cock hitting against your g-spot to make you cry out his name it was so loud, it reverberates and rings all across the room, shutting out the music from downstairs completely. “You close baby?” He hums, hearing your whines get more louder— Toji removes his fingers from your mouth, watching your own spit depart and he smears it all on your face, smudging your lipstick in the process— total asshole. “Heh. So cute.”

“Gonna cummmm… Toji…” You moaned, eyes rolling way back. He was hitting every spot, the way his hips mercilessly rolled— rough but gentle at the same time to send you to complete perplexed convulsions got you so dizzy. “S’good…. have to cum p-please.”

“Dunno if you deserve it,” Toji grumbles, bringing your ask a spank and you whine— the scenario was so lewd that your tongue started to loll out, only Toji could get you like this, being such a dirty side out of you. “How ‘bout you beg for me a little, hm? Do that and I‘ll maybe consider it, sweetheart.”

You whimpered— the red tip of his shaft brushing constantly against your sweet spots, it had your toes curling and back nearly arching.

“Toji…..”

“Y/N…..” He mocks your whiney pathetic voice. Toji purposely butchers your tone, changing his low rough voice to how you spoke. It was embarrassing. Some dare say even humiliating. You wanted to smack him— you nearly gasped, feeling him grab a fistful of your hair from behind, a hand lightly held against your neck. “You heard what the fuck I said. Beg or you can make yourself cum, whore.”

You let off a tiny whine— feeling his pelvis smack, pat, and thwack against you as he jerked his hips from behind you, sending you to a complete trance. “Please Toji, lemme c-cum please,” you spoke in a quiet voice, you sounded so pathetic, white noise feeling your ears as you let your ex-husband pound you into the mattress. The mattress the two of you both shared way before, wasting many days away by just laying in bed together, doing nothing but talking. You‘d be lying if you say that you didn‘t miss Toji, you brought out the best in him. Even though that took a long time— he‘s never been one to settle down, he ran through women like it‘s nothing but that all stopped once he met you. As cliche as it sounds, it‘s true. Toji‘s still the annoying cold-hearted smug bastard he always was when you were with him three years ago, but in a way you got him to soften up, especially when the two of you created two beautiful kids of your own— not to mention how both of them were the exact spitting image of him. But again, perhaps the two of you just married at the wrong time.

“Go ahead,” he snaps you out of your thoughts, soft slender fingers caressing the back of your throat. “Cum all on me baby,” and he leans in, kissing the top of your forehead as he still claimed you from behind— his girth tremendously expanding inside of you, you almost forgot how stupidly big Toji was. He always knew how to stretch you out with pure and total ease. “That‘s it relax, pretty girl. Make a mess on your husband. I‘ll clean you right up, yeah?”

“F-Fuck Toji…” You cried out, and the way he talked you through your orgasm was so sexy, you felt his hips stutter and slow down just a bit for you, a hand still tightly wrapped around your neck. The coil within you snapped, gnawing down on your lip— you came and it felt so good, you can‘t remember the last time you climaxed, let alone that good. Toji gets all close and personal next to your ear as he‘s still buried deep between your gummy walls, warm breath brushing against your earlobe— you could smell the rich liquor on his tongue as your eyes rolled back, still making a mess from his fat cock bullying your folds completely. “Fucking h-hate you. All you know how to do right is f—fuck me good. Nothin’ else..”

“Heheheh, is that right?” Toji lowly chuckles, and he flips you over right after you came— watching you try to catch up with your breath. You landed on your back with a soft oof, and watched as Toji started to tear off your dress. “Listen little bitch,” he purrs, sounding so smug as he completely ripped it into shreds— you were way too sensitive from just climaxing that you didn‘t really care. Toji found it cute even in your state, you‘d still always find a way to act like a brat. “. . . Got some nerve saying shit like that,” and then he slyly smiles, realigning himself— his facial expressions contorts, obsidian colored eyebrows raising at your mouth starting to open, feeling him start to go inside again, “You want me to fuck you harder, that it? Beat this sloppy pussy up just for you?” And he gets closer to your face, within seconds he‘s balls deep and you moan lewdly, your legs wrapping around his slim waist before he snickers, “I get it. You ant another baby, don‘t you sweetheart? How ‘bout I give you two more, make you extra filled so you can shut the fuck up. Be a pretty little mommy for me all over again. So gorgeous with your tummy all swollen.”

“Please—” You nodded pathetically, wrapping your arms around his neck. Toji still had his tuxedo on, and regardless of the beads of sweat starting to drip down his forehead, he looked so incredibly handsome. The rich black color really coordinated with his matching hair color and made his dark viridescent green eyes pop each second he second he looked at you. “Fill me up Toji. Make me a mommy again.”

He chuckles, pressing a hand against your tummy, feeling how deep he was truly reaching and it made you let off a tiny hiss— the back of your left ankle rubbing against his slim waist, the colliding against the sheer fabric of his suit. “Was kidding but I knew you‘d be into that shit. Nasty girl. But fine. I‘ll give my pretty baby as many kids as she wants.” Toji‘s voice is rough as he speaks before he leans in— bringing you into a deep carnally kiss. You moaned into his mouth again, holding onto him tight as you felt him pound into you— getting you so dizzy, nearly choking on your own pants. As his body pressed against you, you slightly opened your mouth, feeling his tongue drag against yours, and it was so sensual, occasionally he‘d bite down on your lip to tease you.

This kiss had so much emotion, you hadn‘t realized how much you missed Toji— funny enough, you only realize it while he‘s deep inside you, stirring your insides up like pancake batter. The kiss was primarily angry— it was long and purely relentless, honeyed, sweet, and incredibly sloppy, Toji missed you too, as stubborn as he was. No woman could ever compare to you in his eyes. As when you two were dating— and broke up after the fact, he‘d always still moan out your name with other women, embarrassing himself in the process, sometimes he‘d do it on purpose though. Because he‘s… Toji.

Though— Toji loves to finger other women with his wedding ring still on, imagining that woman‘s you, your pretty cunt tightening around his fingers, whining in his ear with that sweet needy voice of yours that he‘s always grew to know and love.

He kept kissing you until he left you gasping for air, it left your head spinning like a merry-go-round. “So cute,” he grunts— his hips stuttering once more as you took his hefty length, you squeezed around him so tight it makes him angrily suck his teeth. His tip of his dick massaged your inner walls as if it‘s profession was a masseuse— the way his mean antagonizing thrusts hits against you left you almost hypnotized, yearning, begging, and pleading for more in that whiney pathetic voice. “….Fucking dammit,” Toji spats, feeling his muscles tighten against you— he felt himself getting closer and closer. He cups your chin, staring dead at you, and you could never read his expression, that same stoic sly façade he always kept up like some sort of wall that could never be broken. “Gonna fill you all up, baby. Fuck a whole— heh . . daycare into you. That‘s what you want, ain‘t it?”

You nod, hands wrapped around him. “Y-Yes Toji please. Stuff me full please, n—need you to breed me s’bad,” you sniffle, and he feels the very heel of your foot trace against his back once more. It was cute. That sly haughty smirk reappears on Toji‘s pink lips— some of your lipstick smudged against his mouth before he bullied his dick further and further against, around, and all between your pretty gummy walls. “Wanna feel you so bad.”

“Baby, you will,” he smugly replies, bringing a kiss the the top of your forehead. The both of you were in missionary now— his pace was so reckless, so frenzied, so hungry. The moans you let out was so salaciously high-pitched and whiney, you could hardly even recognize yourself. Both bodies pressed against each other— you felt as if your temperature was through the roof, the crown head of his cock brushing against that infamous g-spot of yours, transmitting your vision to see pure white— it was dramatic, almost as if this scene was out of some hollywood movie. “F-Fuck,” he grunts, bringing a kiss towards the outline of your jaw. “Be a good girl and take it all for me. Saved all this s-shit for you for so long, darlin’.”

And within seconds, Toji‘s pelvis slightly tilts against yours, you felt your back arch just a bit and he‘s spewing out stringy velvety ropes of cum inside of you— and it‘s a lot, it almost makes your mouth start to water. Toji slows his unrelenting pace down as he‘s climaxing— he‘s deep inside your walls that‘s tightly holding him captivate. His breath gets shaky and heavy— both sides of his face starting to burn a bright red, growing flustered as he lets off a deep baritone-like grunt.

Then Toji pulls out for a brief moment, a hand pressed against your stomach while he swipes the tip of his sensitive frenulum part of his rubs against your cunt that‘s spilling with his thick bands of cum. “Tojiiiiii—” you whined, and he was teasing you, rubbing the head of his dick against the mess that was just being created, almost as if he couldn‘t take his eyes away. As if he was mesmerized by his own seed spilling out of your pretty swollen pussy. “M-More.”

He snickers scornfully, sliding a hand up your thigh, before pushing both legs towards your knees, his grip is strong and firm.

“Greedy ass woman,” he sucks his teeth, and his tone is contemptuous and playful— still very much arrogant. “Don‘t be mad at me if you end up with triplets.”

Toji brings you into another deep kiss, and you whimper once he shoves your knees towards your chest, he continued to piston his hips into you as his lips locked against yours— by now you forgot all about the plus one you brought with you, much less the fact the two of you were at a party to celebrate Toji‘s occupational success. But yet here he was, his own version of celebrating— by using your sweet loving cunt as a gift, he was grateful, even if he wouldn’t be caught alive saying that directly to you.

He looked so drunk— off of love, Toji‘s eyes were half-lidded as he kept switching through multiple positions with you, using your sweet pussy as if it was a bucket to store all tremendous thick ropes of his cum. He was touchy— he couldn‘t help it after ripping orgasm after orgasm out of you. Your pretty long black dress that was practically ruined and torn now thanks to him, he couldn’t help but run the calloused tips of his fingers against your figure, watching you spasm and lose yourself completely on his cock.

“Gonna c—cum again Toji,” you sputtered, and you were riding him now, he‘s slumped back against his pillow, his eyes never leaving your perfect body. Toji slowly licks his lips as he watches you babble over and over from his cock disappearing over and over between your clenching folds, gripping onto your waist before pulling you towards him. He slid the top part of your dress down, sliding your bra aside, and starts to flick his tongue teasingly against your perky hardened nipple. He cups his lips around it, his dark green eyes staring, glaring at you as you kept riding him. “F-Fuck…” You whined, and Toji was so whipped for you, he didn‘t even have to say anything.

His tongue continued to swirl around your pretty swollen nipple, and you let off a whine, feeling him playfully nip and bite on it— hearing him let off a low chuckle. “Mmm. Taste so sweet,” he says in a raspy tone, departing his lips before cupping your right breast, squeezing it firmly. “Gonna cum again for me darlin’? Go ahead. Be nasty for me.” he purrs, shoving you directly into his chest, a rough hand starched to your waist, another clasped near the very back of your neck.

You whimper as your thighs ache and twitch— the way your hips jerked against him before you lost total composure, coming again, and at this point, you‘ve lost count of how many climaxes Toji‘s stole out of you. The fire in your abdomen burned greatly like a wildfire, tears poking your eyes and he gruffly chuckles at your dumb state. Once you rolled off of him, you laid beside him— panting while staring up at the ceiling.

“Thanks for ruining my dress, asshole.” You glared, still speaking in a breathy tone— lightly nudging him.

Toji slyly smiles, pulling you close towards him, wrapping an arm around you. “I’ll eat you out again as an apology, woman.”

It was like time stood still for a moment as the both of you tried to recollect breaths, then Toji made you face him, lying down on the bed to stare towards you, and his face looked like it softened. “I wasn‘t lying though. I miss my wife.”

“Really..?” You mumbled, deadpanning.

“Yeah,” he replies, sitting up— his hair was messy yet still attractive before he lets off a sigh. “I invited you here so we could try again, you know? I know there‘s been times I’ve been a lousy husband to you, not really there for you and the kids because of how much time I spend at work . . . ” and he speaks, you stare at him, taking in every word he says— he sounds serious, not as cocky and conceited as he usually does.

“Let’s start over. For us, for our children, Y/N. I’m not the same man I was when you last saw me, and I wanna change for you,” and he kissed the top of your forehead. “I know I can be an arrogant idiot but I wanna do better, I promise,” and he genuinely looks like he means ever word, his face was a lot more relaxed— not as stern. “You’ll always be the love of my life, sweetheart. Every single rebound or hookup that I’ve had for the past three years I just kept seeing your cute ass. Your pretty face, those soft loving eyes and that annoying glare you always give me when I’m right about something,” he chuckles before then having a change of attitude—he grumbles, avoiding eye contact for a little. “. . . Even though it pains me to say that out loud, I mean it. Let’s re-marry again. I’ll do everything in my power for us all to be a happy family again. You me and the kids. Nothing else matters. I love you and only you, baby.”

You take a moment to sink in his words, and it felt like dozens of knives struck in your heart— you’ve always felt the same way, you’ve just been waiting for Toji to finally say it back. And he did. The last time you heard Toji murmur those three words, eight letters, ‘I love you,’ was practically three years ago— and it stung hard like a deadly wasp, hearing him say it again.

“…Toji,” you sniffled, staring deep into his green eyes, hearing your heart pulse through your ears. “I lov—”

But before you could say, ‘I love you back,’ you abruptly woke up next to your two children beside you. You woke up confused, eyebrows furrowing. The literal same bed as your dream— you’re laid on the side where Toji usually sleeps, slept, and it was cold and empty, deserted.

Then it all came crashing back into you.

Your ex-husband was dead. Gone.

Long long gone. He died months ago while trying to assassinate a pricey bounty— some one by the name of Gojo Satoru who just so happens to work at Jujutsu High— who happens to even teach and train your children to be a strong and ruthless sorcerer. Just like their late daddy. A single tear rolled down your face, you felt angry, everything . . was a dream—? But he wanted to get back together, start over and re-marry. You were gonna give him another chance, and he was so happy about it. It’s like all the words he said to you in that dream kept replaying over and over and over again in your head like a broken record.

“What‘s wrong mom? Is it the hormones again?”

You blinked, staring up at your eldest son— a teenager that looked like the spitting image of Toji.

“Huh.. what?” You spoke, confused.

Your son trails his eyes towards your stomach, and you rub a hand against your bare tummy that happened to be…. round? You froze, the realization hitting you like a truck.

He got you pregnant again, as he promised. The two of you were keen on having a few more kids. Toji wanted more boys while you wanted more girls, formulating many different cute baby names to come up with together. The two of you planned to even re-marry after you had your unborn babies— it was oh so adorable.

But your husband‘s dead, and you were all alone.

Pro hero!Deku and bitch reader at their high-school reunion. He's so much bigger than you remember, so much more steady within himself. All the girls gravitate towards him like a sun. His freckles are the only sign of the boy you once mercilessly teased.

Which should make it no surprise that when he finally got you where he always wanted you- underneath him, creaming on his cock and sniffling out heartfelt apologies- that he was a little mean to you too.

"All this time, you're just a slut in need of some dick to fix your attitude huh?" He had you on your tummy, prone boned until you were clawing at the sheets from how full you were.

"Stop fucking running. You wanted this right? Then take my cock, all of it."

Reblog if you want to be stuffed by those fingers (and more) 😏

hello

Hello hello! How are you today? :)

Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.

Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)

A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.

You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 

And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 

We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…

What? 

No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.

You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”

Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 

Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 

You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 

Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.

You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.

Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-

“Oh? Still open?”

“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 

And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?

“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”

“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”

You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”

Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”

Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”

“Congratulations, Mr…”

“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 

You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”

“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”

What?

You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”

“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”

There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”

Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”

Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”

“...you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”

“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”

And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 

“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”

That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 

And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 

You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”

---

And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 

“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”

“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.

You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”

Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 

“Alright. Plan B, then.” 

Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”

Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”

At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”

“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”

“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”

It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 

“Fine.”

The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”

And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”

He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.

Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 

And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 

You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 

“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”

“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 

“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”

Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”

With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 

“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 

Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”

You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 

“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”

That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.

“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”

It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 

“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”

Your home, for the next month. At least. 

And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 

“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 

“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 

“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”

It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 

“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 

Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”

And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.

“Ichiji.”

“Yes, young master.”

“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”

“Of course, young master.”

---

Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 

Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.

Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…

“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 

Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”

“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”

He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 

Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”

At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”

“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”

He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”

“For the divorce.”

And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.

You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 

“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”

And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 

You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 

But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.

The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”

Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”

“Only for you.”

Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.

Stammering out, “Corny.”

“Only for-”

“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 

Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 

Gathered here - for you. 

Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 

“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”

My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”

It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.

He wins.

“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.

It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.

Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 

Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”

You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”

“A waitress, she said?”

“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”

“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”

The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”

“Mother, be quiet or-”

“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”

Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 

Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”

Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”

“My wife and I are leav-”

“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 

Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.

His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”

Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 

“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 

“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 

He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 

“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

What the fuck happened?

He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 

Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.

“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 

“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”

You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”

That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.

---

“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 

The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 

You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”

He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.

“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 

And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.

---

Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 

The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 

But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 

“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.

Something else also happened - something different.

Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”

“You wish.”

“Maybe I do.”

Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-

“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”

Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”

The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 

“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 

You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”

And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 

Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 

Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 

“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”

Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 

Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 

“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”

Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.

 Were you going insane?

Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”

“Thinking of me?”

Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 

“Satoru?”

His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.

Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”

A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”

Run away. Run away. Run away-

There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 

“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 

You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”

“So go with me instead.”

“What if-”

“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 

Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  

It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-

And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 

“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.

“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”

He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 

“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 

“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”

He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 

But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 

And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”

“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.

“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 

Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”

You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.

“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”

Rip! 

The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 

Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”

“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you married me.”

With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”

You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 

Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”

You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 

And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?

Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-

“Sh-shit. Toru-”

“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”

“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 

He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-

“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 

“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”

“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”

“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”

One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 

“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.

And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 

Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 

“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”

And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 

“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 

“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 

And he sees right through you.

“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 

Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.

“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s’too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 

And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”

You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 

Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 

“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 

You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.

And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 

“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”

You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”

“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”

“All yours, Toru.”

And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.

With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 

“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”

Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.

And exactly where you wanted to be. 

You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 

“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 

“Close?” 

“Mhm…”

“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”

And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.

Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.

And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 

You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 

And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 

Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”

“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”

Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”

“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

Reblog to bonk your mutuals on the head every time they start thinking negatively about themselves

I don't get on so social media much to just, share, but I guess thats what this is? Do you ever just, feel such an intense desire to be somewhere else? Some where different? Where you think everything will turn out better than where you are? That's super vague but like, I feel like I want a person that I can tell everything to. My deepest desires and fears and passions. Someone I can be completely selfish with. I want a best friend that would follow me to the ends of the Earth. I want that kind of bond with someone.