throughout the entire ceremony and reception, gojo can’t keep his eyes and hands off of you. maybe it’s the excitement of finally being husband and wife, or the sheer thrill of what’s to come afterwards.
because everyone knows, the after party is always better than the actual event.
you just look so beautiful, so enchanting, so….his. it’s a pain to just opt for making out in the back of the limo on the way back to your hotel because he’s forcing himself to wait. wait until you two are finally alone. wait until he can just finally show you much of a good husband he is.
there’s rose pedals, a glass of champagne, a huge heart shaped bed, dim lighting, a spacious suite, a beautiful balcony that overlooks the darkened tokyo skyline. it smells like warm sugar.
everything is perfect.
well, not as perfect as seeing you lay down on the bed, still in that expensive, but memorable white dress. your hair down and slightly messy from the dancing and alcohol. cheeks flushed and a dopey smile on your face. he mirrors your expression, his own inebriation coming into play because you weren’t the only one who drank more than you could handle.
he’s unbuttoning his white button up, freeing his broad chest. working next on the belt of his slacks that are too tight to hide his growing tent. all the while, he’s keeping his eyes on yours. stalking towards your figure on the bed. he starts by raising your ankles, your heels having been discarded already.
planting kiss after kiss, the tip of his nose being shoved against your skin as he inhales your scent deeply. he’s working his way up from your white, manicured toenail to your tempting cleavage, then to the crook of your neck, the top of your hair, and finally…your lips.
it’s a sweet and soft kiss, one that lingers and one that further solidifies the new union of love between two souls.
it’s only when he pulls back, breath mingling with yours, eyes glued to each other, his hands paused on your thighs, body slotted between them, that he realizes…
you’re his wife.
it’s his wedding night, and you’re here as his wife, his life-long partner. the woman who he’ll stay with through sickness and good health, and vice versa. the woman he’ll have children with. the woman he’ll grow old with. the woman who he’ll be buried with, his skeleton cradling yours until enough time has passed on earth where you two are nothing but a faded memory for your future generations.
his wife.
his wife who’s currently laid out in front like an offering to him.
yeah, he’s breaking the bed.
