#when we were young au

[silverhallow]

I’d marry you with Paper Rings

pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

summary: it’s wedding day!

warnings: none just fluff!

word count: 2301 words

author's note: part 4 of a Tumblr request for stories in the WWWY AU!

Benedict and Sophie’s wedding came around a lot quicker than they’d been anticipating.

It seemed like one moment they had months, the next moment it was merely days away.

They had everything planned out, they were marrying at Aubrey Hall, they talked about hiring somewhere but everywhere they visited felt wrong, nowhere had felt right and it had felt like they were never going to find a location for the wedding.

It was only after a weekend at Aubrey, celebrating little Miles’ Christening, after a glass of wine too many later that afternoon Sophie and Kate had been talking about wedding plans for and Sophie just complained about being able to find somewhere suitable.

“Why not here?” Kate had said.

Sophie had spilled her wine, “what do you mean?”

“Well you get someone ordained, file the papers with the registrar's office and you and Ben get married here in the summer…” Kate had explained.

Sophie had squealed with excited joy and threw her arms around Kate exclaiming how she was a genius so loudly that she woke Artie from his sleep and his annoyed barks woke Edmund, Miles and Amelia.

She’d gotten a grumpy look from Mary and Violet having just settled the three children but when they learned the reason for Sophie’s excitement, they were soon forgiving her and on board with the idea.

Benedict had thought it was perfect. He loved the idea of them getting married in the place they grew up, the place they fell in love. There wasn’t a more perfect location and as they wanted a summer wedding, they could host it outside and they could curate it to be the day they wanted, rather than what a venue could afford them.

And little Artie would be able to come and be their ring bearer.

Within three weeks of Miles’ christening they had everything planned and a date set and Sophie had set about trying to find a wedding dress.

Sophie felt like she’d tried on over 100 dresses trying to find the right one but whenever she, Violet, her Aunt Becky, Kate and the rest of the girls had gone shopping, she’d not found the right one. Everything felt wrong.

That was until she was going through some boxes at her father’s house ready to move into the home she and Benedict had bought together, My Cottage was its name, something the rest of the family had found hilarious and Henry had said was rather fitting for the two of them.

It was a cottage of sorts, out in Kent, a lot of land for Sophie to have her own animals and there was space for her and Lily to open their own Veterinary practice, space for Benedict to grow his art and photography business, it was close to the rest of their family and was beautiful. It was every bit the countryside home they wanted.

It was everything they wanted but it was going through some old boxes that Sophie had come across an old sketchbook that belonged to her mother.

She’d known her mother had been creative, that she’d been training to restore historical art pieces but she’d not realised how creative her mother actually was and it was seeing the book that she found her wedding dress.

It had been a design that she’d created herself, that had evidently been her dream wedding dress for when and if she got to marry Sophie’s father.

Richard had been shocked to find the books that Esme had drawn in, and had been even more shocked to find the dress plans, they’d talked about getting married when they’d finished University, but what shocked him the most was the plans had been drawn after she’d been sent away by his father.

There was a little flower girl and little page boy outfit also drawn in the book. Richard had broken down in tears at this point, knowing that she’d been planning for a life back together, including their unborn child in their wedding…

Sophie had known at that point that she had to honour her mother, the dress that was designed was everything she’d wanted in her wedding dress. It was elegant, it was cottagey, it was vintage and it was perfect.

She’d called Gen and Lucy and begged them for help, Gen being a fashion designer, or on her way to being a fashion designer. She knew it was a long shot as Wedding Dresses were harder to design and create but they’d promised to help her.

It had taken a while but they’d finished the dress about a month before the wedding and Sophie had finally agreed to let her wedding party see it.

Lily, Kate, Violet, her Aunt Becky, Mary, had stood in the room with Gen and Lucy when she tried it on for the first time since it had been finished and there hadn’t been a dry eye in the room.

It was after that everything fell into place.

Gen had managed to make the Flower Girl dress for Ameila, who was now 3 years old, the page boy outfits for 3 year old Neddy and nearly a year old Milo.

Sophie had found beautiful green bridesmaid dresses for the rest of her bridesmaids and everything was set.

They’d had their stag and their hen-dos, which had been considerably tamer than Kate and Anthony’s had been and now they were set for the big day.

Sophie was in her old room at Aubrey Hall, Benedict had been set off the Summer House with the rest of the boys and as the sun rose on June 16th, their wedding day had finally arrived.

2 years after getting engaged, months of planning and waiting had all come down to this and it was with a bated breath that Sophie had opened her curtains to look outside, praying for a sunny day.

As she pulled the curtains open she was nearly blinded.

It was bright, it was clear and it was perfect.

She let out a grateful sigh as the door flew open and Kate, Lily, Edwina and the Bridgerton girls and Lucy came running in squealing excitedly about it being her wedding day.

The next few hours were spent getting ready, Lucy and Becky helped with her make up and hair, her nerves never seemed to come. She was giddy and excited about marrying the man she’d been in love with for nearly 10 years, her best friend, her soul mate, her entire world.

They were marrying at lunchtime, when the sun was at the highest point, where it would look the most serene and beautiful by the lake where they would shortly become man and wife.

Gen and Kate helped Sophie into her dress and she was finally ready.

Benedict had asked Hugh, one of his friends who worked with him to come and take photographs, and he captured every moment so far of Sophie getting ready, Henry had been tasked with the photos of Benedict and the men before he would officiate the ceremony.

Phillip was serving as an additional Maid of Honour with Kate as her two best friends; he was waiting with her father for the first reveal. She had wanted to keep her dress secret from them both, she hadn’t told her father what design she’d gone for, only that she’d found it, and she had a feeling that Phillip would have told Henry and Henry would have told Ben so she kept him out of it.

But the moment Phillip and her father saw her in her dress. She knew Benedict was going to be a mess as she walked down the aisle.

“You look beautiful Princess” Richard said as they waited, everyone was assembled, the moment was upon them.

The music was starting, Sophie’s heart was pounding. This was it, “thank you Papa… thank you for everything, for being the first man i loved, for loving me… for being mum and dad… and just… everything”

“Stop, are you going to make your old man cry sweetheart” Richard said a little choked up.

“Papa… it’s inevitable today” Sophie sniffed, feeling her eyes filling with tears.

“True but at least let me make it to the speeches” he said which made her giggle.

“Ready?” he asked her

“I’ve been ready all my life,” she smiled.

Gregory, Hyacinth, Lucy and Richard Jnr were ahead of them, Kate, Phillip and Lily had already started walking down the aisle with Amelia, Edmund and Miles and Hyacinth had tight hold of Artie on his lead and they started to walk down towards Benedict.

They’d set the walk up so that Sophie would have to round a corner before Benedict would be able to see her “last chance to change your mind” Richard said half-heartedly.

Sophie giggled “Papa, Hell would have to freeze over before i’d change my mind…” Sophie said with a bright beaming smile and Richard knew she was right, he’d known from the moment Sophie and Benedict were small children together that they were destined for one another, they’d always complimented one another, in the same way that Kate and Anthony where the same, similar in the way they approached life and needed that to be complete…

Sophie and Benedict were different but fit together like a puzzle, from the moment Sophie was all of 8 weeks old when she was placed in Benedict’s crib and he’d reached out and taken her hand… they’d found the other half of their soul.

It was true and utter soulmates.

Richard had to fight back his own tears as he walked his daughter down the aisle. Benedict’s tears fell freely down his face when he saw Sophie, her beauty had always taken his breath away but today she looked like a fairy.

Everything about the ceremony was perfect, Artie had sat nicely by his papa and mama, the rings in a box around his neck, waiting for the moment they’d been needed and by the time they recited their own vows, there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.

“Sophie, you are everything i’ve ever wanted in life, even when I didn’t know what I wanted, you knew what I needed, you’ve completed me in ways I never thought were possible and you’re the girl who saw the man that I could be, the woman who has helped me to be the man I am today and you’ll be the woman to help me become the man and hopefully, one day, the father I will be. You are the other half of my soul. From the moment you were placed in my cot, it was like everything changed, I don’t remember my life before you were in it and I never want to imagine my life without you in it. You are my muse, you are my best friend, my soulmate, you complete me and without you there is no me. We’ve had our ups and downs and a lot of people said we were too young but those people didn’t know us, they didn’t know just how long we’ve loved one another… how long I plan to love you. You’ve been the only girl I've ever loved, my heart was made for you, my soul was always yours and I vow for the rest of our lives, everything I am belongs to you…” Benedict had said, tears falling down his eyes as he spoke and Sophie had cried and been grateful for the waterproof mascara.

Then Sophie had spoken “Ben… you are the light of my life, you always have been, the joy and love of my life. You saw me when no one else did, you loved me when I couldn’t even love myself… you’ve been my staunchest protector, my fiercest guard… you and Kate, but you’ve always been there by my side. No matter what you’ve always been there for me, the first one by my side whenever I’ve needed you… you are my Prince Charming. Today I become your wife and words can’t describe how proud that makes me, how happy that makes me. My heart has always been and will always be yours, my soul has always been yours, it has been connected with yours since the day I was born. You are the reason I was born, you are the reason I exist. I promise to love you every day for the rest of our lives, I promise to be your muse, to encourage you, to remind you to eat… and be whatever you need me to be. Everything I am, I owe to you, everything I will be, will be because of you, we are a team, we always have been, we always will be and no matter what life throws at us, I know we can get through it, as long as we are together, we can accomplish anything. I love you, always have… always will”

Henry was choked up and had to clear his throat before he was able to continue, they exchanged their rings, quoting lines of Lord of the Rings and some of their favourite films to one another before finally, they were finally pronounced man and wife.

Their kiss had to be interrupted by Henry tapping their shoulders as it went on a bit but they were just laughed at by their friends and family.

The rest of the day was more relaxed, an outside party, all the food was buffet style and they had a big BBQ and it was everything they’d dreamed.

Anthony and Kate surprised them with Fireworks right at the end of the night.

It was everything they wanted, the start of their happily ever after, before babies, before the drama that those babies would bring them. It was a perfect end to the perfect day.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

M'lady, doth this harlot bother thee?

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[cupidford]

When We Were Young by Calais_Reno

Johnlock Love Letters #2340

John and Sherlock met at school, and were a bit more than friends. But they didn't stay in touch afterwards. Life goes on, and when John returns from Afghanistan, he takes a position at Barts as a trauma specialist, working in the Emergency Department. As he reports for work one day, a man jumps off the roof of the hospital. John's world tilts on its axis.

**Inspired to get back into a few Johnlockloveletters today....how many years on is this?**

[the-far-bright-center]

The weird feeling of being a longtime fan and realising that my own views of Anakin and Padme don’t seem to align with hardly anyone else’s these days… not even the current pro-Anidala side of tumblr fandom.

[shippofuri]

im not gonna get into the weeds of discourse or what is acceptable to depict (my thoughts have absolutely nothing to do with the question of "is he legal" i think the fixation on that is weird) but my (semi-joking) read of thistle and yaad's maturity is that yaad was effectively denied adolescence and that ironically allowed him to mentally mature more than thistle to a degree. yaad being more akin to someone on puberty blockers able to gain life experience and grow as a person vs. thistle magically locking himself into the phase of adolescence where you are just chemically insane and irrational for a couple years (or even decades, in his case...) stuck as a volatile hormonal teen for 1000 years. this is a fate worse than death i think

[joeltallishbean]

{¤}

- @that-which-sees-you

OH. WHAT-

I didn't... Uh. I didn't see you there. Uhm.

Can I take your order?

[barxlupin]

@starspurn ordered:

aventurine has been accused, rightfully so, of going overboard at times in terms of gift-giving. it's a love language, he'd argue, and his abundance of wealth might as well go toward making another person happy, no? hence : the sheer amount of gifts he has purchased for baptiste upon their first festive season. there's clothing in a dazzling array of colours, hair products, a new fridge, blankets, materials and items for his shop, food, wubbaboo plushies, and - perhaps most importantly of all - a bracelet inlaid with a turquoise gemstone, housed in a black velvet box. there are, naturally, gifts for each of their pets as well. he has truly gone overboard and he does not regret a thing. "i thought you deserved to be spoiled a little, love," he's saying with a grin. "try on the bracelet? i think that colour will look stunning on you."

'TIS THE SEASON~

"Don't you think you've gone a little overboard this time, darling?"

Munching on an eggs and bacon toast for breakfast, Baptiste gazes upon the veritable mountain of gifts that Aventurine had gotten for him. It's said in jest, of course; he expected nothing less from the man whose love language (one of many) is showering his loved ones with expensive presents.

Some of the presents are practical in nature too, because Aventurine doesn't just buy anything expensive without consideration, but puts thoughts and care in his purchases for other people. Ingredients for his perfumes that Baptiste remembers complaining about being difficult to procure; a new fridge to replace the truly ancient one in Baptiste's apartment that was on the verge of being unusable; beauty products whose smell Baptiste had expressed appreciation for...

Fragrance, Aroma and Perfume are already helping themselves to their own pile of presents, the three Wubbaboos wooing happily as they play with their three cat cake 'siblings'. It's a sight that warms Baptiste's little black heart, usually unmoved by such things.

He can't fault Aventurine for his enthusiasm, nor is he planning to squash it under his heel. It's their first holiday together as a couple.

"I have a gift for you too." Baptiste hums as he extends one arm for Aventurine to clasp the turquoise bracelet around his wrist. As if on cue, one of the Wubbaboo flies off, returning a moment later with a simple white box, which is carefully dropped into Aventurine's awaiting hands.

Inside there's a small bottle filled with a clear golden liquid. A perfume bottle, upon closer inspection. The label reads 'The Fool's Golden Heart'. One of Baptiste's creations. Rich, sweet and spicy, with hints of amber and myrrh.

[tennessoui]

hi .. ive just reread how to say someone's name like it's just a string of letters for the ... Seventh time i think and. i just. have this visceral reaction to it every time. its genuinely so Terrible how strongly i feel about this fic. its so beautifully written i am in tears every time and i. God

(how to say someone's name like it's just a string of letters)

honestly it's the sadness of going from being so entangled with someone and in love that you're sure you're going to grow with them for the rest of both your lives to hating them and hurting for years, paired with the catharsis of finally unburdening yourself of all the things you've thought about saying since the last time you saw them paired with the freefall that comes when you're forced to confront the fact that they're also human with complicated emotions and fallible logic and just as much hurt and love still after all this time

ending with the bittersweet ache of realizing that you'll never ever be able to get those years back that you missed, but you're going to commit yourself to trying to love them again because you never really stopped and at this point, you're not sure you're capable of it and honestly maybe this time the love will be enough

(it will be)

[fauvester]

young elim kirayoshi playdate cause they're about the same age but they are from comically different backgrounds. kirayoshi like Look at my dinosaur toy! lets go to the pond and play animals. and young elim like ok when do we need to be back home for manual labor if we dont want to miss ration distribution

[silverhallow]

Sophie and Benedict’s first holiday in the WWWY AU

Part 2 of 4 of the Anon Ask

Like we were in Paris

Their summer holiday plans had to change… their original plan had been for all of the group to go to Ibiza for a week for a week of sun, sea and partying but after Sophie had taken a tumble during a night out and broken her wrist, she was not allowed to fly and so their plans had to change.

Sophie had been devastated that their plans had to change and she was ruining their big summer holiday plans.

It was the first time they were all going abroad together, the whole of their friendship group was going and it was right at the start of the summer, as their exams ended, their first and second years were done and it was during the time off Peter and Bea had from their placements.

She’d tried to tell the rest of them to go without her, even Benedict, but he wasn’t going anywhere without her, he’d said hell would freeze over before that would happen, and Pete had admitted he was only going because everyone else was and he didn’t really fancy Ibiza and so they decided they’d cancel the holiday, get their money back and look for somewhere together towards the end of the summer before they would all return to Uni.

Sophie had been really looking forward to a holiday, she’d worked really hard during their first year and after her and Benedict’s fight, she’d been looking forward to a week away together in the sun.

She felt miserable as she sat on the edge of her bed at Uni, the pain still fresh in her wrist as she looked at her newly casted wrist “I’m so sorry. I’ve ruined everything” Sophie said to Benedict

“Hey, it’s okay, we’ve all tripped and fell before” he said to her softly

“Yes but somehow you’ve not broken a single bone and this is the second time i’ve broken this wrist…” she huffed

“Well the first time wasn’t your fault and this was barely your fault… it was Lucy and Kate’s for giving you tequila���” Benedict said. He was still fuming with the girls for letting Sophie get that drunk but he knew he would get over it soon, she wasn’t really badly hurt, just a few bumps and bruises and a broken wrist.

Her surgery for it, had been hell waiting for news that she was okay.

But Benedict knew he was going to have to do something to cheer her up as she was miserable, over the next two weeks when the group confirmed they’d been able to cancel the holiday and get their money back, Sophie felt really bad about it all because she’d known how much they’d all been looking forward to it.

They had found an alternative for later in the summer and booked a huge cabin by a lake in Scotland and had all planned to travel up for a week of relaxing, BBQs and just spending time together in the wilderness but she knew it wasn’t really the same.

So Benedict decided to plan something else for him and Sophie. Kate and Anthony had booked to go away for a week to Greece. Henry and Peter were going to Italy and a few of the other couples had planned to go away but Sophie knew she was stuck, they couldn’t fly anywhere…

But Benedict had other plans, he knew she couldn’t fly but he spoke to her Uncle Charles about the possibility of driving her to France and taking her to Paris for a few days, the drive was doable, they could stop on the way down and spend an evening north of Paris before a few days in Paris then moving to see her family in Reims.

He’d kept it a secret from her for a few weeks until the week before he’d planned it all, he’d even got the time off work for her.

They were back home in Kent so they were back working at the Original Crabtree’s and Alice, John and Peter were all in on the surprise and had arranged the week off without telling her and Benedict hadn’t told her that he’d arranged all of this as a surprise so when she’d seen the rota for the week she was going to be on holiday with no shifts, she’d been confused.

Alice had emailed it over to her and she’d been sitting with Benedict finishing her reading on some animal care ready for next term whilst her father was away working on a trial in Newcastle.

“I think Alice has made a mistake with the rota for next week…” Sophie said as she looked over it.

“Huh what do you mean?” he asked her, a little smirk on his face. He’d been planning to wait til the last minute to tell her about it.

“Well she’s not given me any shifts… I know i’m not doing as many with my wrist but I can manage the till and speaking to customers, me and Pete have had a good little system going on” she said

“Oh well, no I don’t think it is a mistake…” he grinned at her

“But I didn’t ask for the week off… she’s literally given me nothing… and she never gives me nothing… I need to call her…” Sophie said going to get up.

“You didn’t ask for it… but I did” he grinned at her as he watched her pause getting up from the sofa

“Wait… you… why? We’re… we’ve not go plans for next week” Sophie said

“We do… I just… was keeping it a surprise” he grinned at her as she whipped her head around to look at him shocked

“Keeping What, a surprise? You don’t keep things from me! How have you managed this…?” Sophie asked, looking bewildered.

“With a little help from some friends and some family… but we’re going on holiday on Sunday so you needed to have the week off” Benedict grinned “Pete, Alice and John helped me with it at your work, Kate and Charles have helped me plan it”

“But I can’t fly, it’s why we didn’t go to Ibiza…”

“We’re not flying, we’re driving…” he grinned, waiting for a moment and her confusion as she was wondering where the heck they were going for a week before adding “to France…”

“FUCK OFF!” she yelled in sheer shock. “Please tell me you’re not teasing me! Please tell me you’re being serious!?” she said “if you’re teasing me i’m going to kill you…”

Benedict laughed and leaned over the sofa and picked up the envelope that he had stashed in his coat and handed her it. “The entire itinerary is in there” he said to her “all our tickets, hotel bookings… everything…”

Sophie blinked in shock as she took it with shaking hands “are you… you’re being serious”

“Deadly… I know how upset you were that everyone else was going away and we couldn’t because of your wrist and I wanted to do something special and since it was our anniversary a few weeks ago, I thought… maybe i’d surprise you and I know how much you love France and have been desperate to go back, it seemed like the logical place to go since I can drive so we didn’t have to fly, we’re booked on the train from Folkestone on Sunday, we’re going to stop a little outside of Paris on the Sunday night and then into Paris for a few days then down to Reims to see your family… your Uncle Charles has helped me organise it all” he grinned at her.

“Oh my god, oh my god. I love you so much!” she squealed as she threw herself, carefully into his arms and kissed him over and over again “this is the best surprise ever!” she squealed before letting go and looking at the itinerary.

“OH MY GOD YOU’VE EVEN BOOKED US ON A CHAMPAGNE HOUSE TOUR!” she squealed excitedly

Benedict grinned at his girlfriend’s excited response “Like i’d take you to your mother’s home region and not take you for a tour of the famous champagne houses”

Sophie squealed at him once more and then threw herself at him to show him just how grateful she was about her surprise holiday.

A week later, they were all packed up and in the car was ready, as Sophie had broken her left wrist she wasn’t able to drive so Benedict was going to have to do most of the driving but seen as he had the more practice, he felt confident in his ability, and Richard had threatened him with bodily harm if he didn’t bring Sophie home in one piece.

Benedict had to resist the urge to point out that out of all of them, Sophie was the one with points on her licence but the withering glare his girlfriend gave him, stopped him from opening his mouth as he remembered that her father didn’t know that she’d been caught speeding.

He didn’t really fancy travelling with an upset girlfriend so he just promised to be safe and explained that Charles had given him a lot of pointers for driving on the other side of the road so he was sure he was going to be fine.

They journey through to Folkestone had been uneventful, the roads were clear and as they were booked onto a mid afternoon train, most people were in work or in school so they didn’t have that long a wait to board the train.

Once on the train Sophie’s excitement really started “I can’t believe we’re actually going to France” she squeaked “i’m so excited!”

Benedict chuckled at her “did you think it was all some sort of elaborate joke that everyone was in on?”

“A little, it just… it’s our first holiday just the two of us! Even with my broken wrist we’re still going on holiday. I thought it wouldn’t happen” she admitted

“I saw how sad you were when everyone was booking everything and I know the cabin in Scotland will be fun but I know how little you like most of the outdoor activities they’ve got planned other than the stuff on the lake so I wanted to do something that I knew you’d enjoy” he said

“I will enjoy Scotland but it’s a far cry from the Island of Ibiza and the sun and sea that we were going to do, as lets be honest, i’m not really one for dance music and clubs” she replied

“Very true but you know what I mean, all day hikes and stuff that Pete, Ant and Kate will enjoy are not the sort of thing you want to be doing…”

“Or you” Sophie interrupted

“No that’s also true, i’m staying away from those mountains, I don’t mind a hike but not through the scottish highlands” Benedict admitted “i’ll be stopping by the lake with my beautiful girlfriend rather than traipsing through that…” he grinned

“Well she sounds very lucky” Sophie giggled “but come on then what other surprises have you got in store for me” she asked

“Well if i tell you then that’s all my surprises gone” Benedict grinned

“I know of a way that would make you tell me…” she almost purred at him

“Behave… we’re in the car on the ferry Fee, you can tempt me all you like when we make our stop for the night but not right here, there is CCTV everywhere and as much as I’d love to foot around right now… I don’t think being arrested for indecent exposure will go down too well with either of our parents…” he said to her

Sophie pouted “I guess… not sure how Dad would take that. He nearly choked when he came home and saw your naked arse at the top of the stairs sneaking into the bathroom with me… I think getting the phonecall to say I needed bailing out for being caught having sex in public might send him to an early grave…”

“Exactly, it’s bad enough my mother’s seen you naked in my bed and nearly walked in on us before, let’s not be like Kate and Anthony and have pretty much every family member having witnessed them having some sort of sex” Benedict said

Sophie shuddered at her own memory of walking in on Kate and Anthony “oh god no I don’t want that. I’m not sure how Kate faced your parents after that” she admitted

“They saw far more of Ant than Kate so I am told but yes, as much as I’d love to tick Car sex off my bucket list… maybe we can find a secluded place back home to try it rather than on the Euro Train” he chuckled

“I think that is a fair compromise but you can just make it up to me at the hotel…” Sophie beamed at him

The rest of the journey to the hotel was mostly straightforward, they disembarked and after a little bit of confusion with Benedict having some trouble reading the road signs and them talking the wrong direction, they managed to get on the correct road and to their first night on their holiday.

It was everything that either of them could have wanted.

Paris had been amazing, though both agreed they would never ever drive around the Champs-Elysee ever again as it was the most terrifying experience of their young lives and they’d been a bit worried they were actually going to die.

They did all the touristy things, went to the top of the Eiffel Tower, a bit of shopping down the Champs-Elysee, visited the Louvre which ended up taking a whole day as Benedict had wanted to see everything and they spent a small fortune in the gift shop as Benedict had wanted to take everything back with him.

They’d eaten so much good food, visited Notre Dame and the Moulin Rouge but had to miss the Lido Cabaret as they were due in Reims the next day and it was a long enough drive without the late night but they vowed the next time they returned they would go to see it.

Reims had been amazing, Sophie had said it was the best part of the holiday getting to meet some of her relatives that she’d not seen for years since her grandmother had died. Some great aunts and uncles. Charles flew over for a quick visit with his family and on their second night in Reims they had a big Beckett family gathering.

Benedict felt a bit like a fish out of water as his french wasn’t as good as Sophie who was fluent in the language so spent a lot of time waiting for Sophie to translate for him, but he did his best and he loved being able to see Sophie with some of her family.

They had two more days in Reims and the area afterwards and Sophie had arranged a surprise for them on their last day and got them into the Musee des Beaux-Arts and Benedict had been a kid at Christmas, a bit like she’d been in the Champagne house the day before.

By the time they were heading back to England, they’d both had the 10 days of their lives. Spending time in the places that Sophie had been told stories about growing up and having never visited before and they’d been thrilled to do it together.

It was the most incredible experience for them both and they’d somehow managed to fall even more in love with the other, seeing them in their element and they knew France would hold a special place in their hearts and it was a place that Benedict started to consider for where he would ask Sophie to marry him.

He knew that he was going to ask her to marry him, but he was going to wait until she finished her degree. He’d already enlisted Gen’s help with the ring design and creation but wherever he decided to do it he knew it had to be perfect and magical… but he was sure that she’d say yes.

Their first holiday together had been one to remember and a one they couldn’t wait to repeat.

[helianthus21]

thinking about later in the Early Adoption AU (when Vin + Han-seo go to Korea for the gold and they still get entangled in the Babel legal battle) and Han-seok tries to play the "you're my long lost brother" card to get Han-seo on his side. So he pretends to be super interested and nice as his Jun-woo persona, acting like he's so happy about catching up, but Han-seo, who ofc knows what game he's playing, is doing absolutely everything to annoy tf out of Han-seok just to see how far Han-seok's patience goes

[judasofsuburbia]

i'm going to be naughty and ask for both 'when we were young' AAAAAND ballet AU if you please 😌 IF you please!!! darling <3

HEHEHE omg anything for youuu louuuu<33

here is a snippet from when we were young (yes the killers song, yes casey mcquiston fucked me up by putting that on henry's playlist):

When Henry would wring his hands during Sunday sermon, shame and guilt rolling over him like an unrelenting tide, he’d look up at the statue. A different one than the Jesus statue back home but still devastatingly gorgeous. He silently told the statue that he would do better. He would be better. But he can’t shut this part of himself off, as much as he tried.

here is a snippet from ballet/stage crew fruity four:

They're in tech rehearsals for Sleeping Beauty at Chicago Ballet. Robin finally got her in as wardrobe crew at the start of this process and she's going to fuck it up by being so taken by the dancer playing Aurora, Nancy Wheeler. She even managed to get Eddie a job as a stagehand so if she fucks this up, she could fuck it up for him too.

wip wednesday babey!!

[tonycries]

Corpse Groom - G.S.

Synopsis. Till déath do you part…or does it when a déathly error leads your newly-wedded husband to be from beyond the gráve?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, CÓRPSE BRIDE!AU, arranged marriages, period-typical mísogyny, Naoya is awful, accidental marriage, ángst, major character(s) déath, HAPPY ENDING, talks of déath, kníves, poíson, reíncarnation, Gojo YEARNS, he loves you sm I cried, hándjobs, fíngering, spítting, c��mplay, BRÉEDING, creampíes, mentions of having kids, pússydrúnk Gojo, overstím, oraI (fem rec.), pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 12.7k (ohoho)

A/N. K!nktober isn’t over until I had to make a rewrite of my favorite Halloween movie mhm <3

“Mother, I refuse-”

“Nonsense, child!”

That sharp snap! of your mother’s feathered fan is loud enough that the whole carriage rattles on its hinges, creaking you noisily to what seemed like your very doom. 

You gulp when she’s tilting her head down as far as her best, high-collared gown would allow, eyes narrowing. “The Zenin’s are the only nobles left in this wretched town, and I will not have my daughter marrying some commoner.”

The unsteady cobblestone pathway jostles you in your cushioned seat ever-so-slightly, a pertinent little reminder of that fact.

In the deafening silence, your father pipes up - ever-the-pacifist, “Now now, why don’t we all calm down, especially before such a glorious wedding.” But his words wither out into nothing but a whisper in the simmering tension. “Like your mother said, dear, the Zenin’s are a good family, with a uh-” Coughing nervously, “-good son. We just want you to be taken care of.”

As if that was the only thing.

But there was no use arguing. 

Facing back to the gray window with a sigh, and you can only whisper. “I’d rather die than marry Naoya Zenin.”

---

“With this hand-”

“Louder.”

“With this-”

“More passionate.”

“With this damn hand-”

“Not a threat.” The older woman in front of you wrings her satin gloves, turning towards your fuming parents with a tone that matches their expression. “Honestly, I know that you new money people find it hard to adjust but this is our special tradition! My poor baby Naoya is going to be heartbroken tomorrow.”

Dutchess Zenin had a cruel sort of beauty to her, high cheekbones, and cutting eyes that picked apart every fray at your dress - the spitting image of her son.

And her “poor baby Naoya” was currently finding it impossible to hide his smirk. Swiping away invisible dust from the velvety-clad shoulder of his overpriced suit, he sets down his wine bottle from the vows.

“Don’t be too harsh, mother.” Naoya’s smooth voice comes out in a dangerous purr, and you jolt when one of his strong arms slither around your waist. Possessive. “After all, it’s this one’s face that’s what’s important.” 

God, if it weren’t for your parents’ pointed looks you would have shoved this overly-perfumed bastard away from you and bolted through those high doors faster than you could say “I do.” 

The Naoya Estate was as beautiful as its occupants could never be, brutal, looming architecture intended to make you feel smaller than you were. All those high cemented pillars, plush furniture, and gleaming chandeliers spoke of exactly what your parents wanted - power. 

It wasn’t the sort of home you’d like to call your own, but then again, you didn’t have any choice in the matter. 

“My deepest apologies on behalf of my daughter, madam-” your mother’s gritting out the words, painted lips curling ever-so-slightly towards the end with a bitter taste. “-or should I say, co-mother-in-law? Ah, come now, we might as well be family already, right?”

“Sure.” Dutchess Naoya turns, arching a needle brow. “Might as well, thanks to your family assets- if your daughter doesn’t make a joke of the vows, that is.”

The wisened officiary standing at the altar nods solemnly towards you. “Do you even want to get married tomorrow, young lady?” No, you want to answer, but bite back. “Zenin house traditions dictate that the mark of a good wife is one to follow the vows to its every syllable.”

You wince - and your features sting where they’d been perfectly stretched into a plastic smile. Your next words come out small, strangled in a way that makes your future husband smile. “I apologize, I know how important these vows are, and I’ll- I’ll do better next time.”

“Good.”

With a click of Dutchess Zenin’s fingers, a hushed, swirling piano melody fills the hall once more. 

Your wedding ballad. 

Something that Naoya had prattled on and on about being an esteemed tradition in the Zenin household, a tender tune to accompany their sacred vows. Modeled after the long-lost royalty of this kingdom, and this was the closest you’d get to a taste of it. 

It was your one initiation into power - saying those sweet, special promises - and the one thing you found impossible to get right.

“-for I will be your wine.”

Shit.

You didn’t even realize that Naoya had polished off his own vows, before you jolt at the hefty weight of wine being poured into your cup. 

And you could practically feel the burning stare of every eye in the room. Watching. Waiting. 

You’re fighting against your intricate corset to gulp in a deep inhale of the stale, thickening air. Clearing your throat ever-so-slightly, you raise the hand holding onto his wedding ring. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Y-your cup will never empty-” Fingers tightening around the silver goblet in your other, your breath hitches at the bile rising to your throat already. “-for I will be your- your uh- wine.” 

In the corner of your vision, you could spot Naoya’s smug smirk already. You could hear his tiny “As if you have any other choice.”

You knew what he was thinking.

That whisper is enough to make your jaw grind, your hand clench in a way you’d been taught by your mother not to - in a way that she’d unfortunately forgotten to tell you was for the cup’s sake, rather than your own.

Because it only takes one harsh squeeze before it just bursts.

Red, red wine trickling all down your wrist, splattering onto the gauzy curve of your gown - but more importantly, onto Naoya’s crisp suit. 

It bleeds through the velvet in thick smears, seeping into the fabric as if catching on fire. Only staining further and further with each second he’s flailing frantically to wipe it off. 

“Shit- My apologies- oh, shit-” you’re gasping, but there’s no one paying enough attention to tell you off for your unlady-like profanity right now. Body moving before your mind, you snatch some of the officiary’s papers from him, “Wait, it will only get worse- let me-”

Only to forget what was in your hands.

Honestly, if this was any other time you would have laughed watching the rest of the wine nestled safely in your cup come gushing down onto whatever was left of his unmarred suit - every single inch. 

It’s chaos.

Then it’s silence. 

Every single breathing being in the room can only watch as the last few crimson droplets drip! drip! drip! onto Naoya Zenin’s lapels.

Wordlessly, you look to the aghast officiary, your stony-faced parents, and finally, your gaping fiancé. You’re the first to speak - to hold back your chuckles, more like. “I- I cannot apologize enough…”

“You- you witch! This was on purpose, wasn’t it? Do you know how much this custom suit cost? How it was worn by the late highness himself.” Naoya’s screeching, voice shrill. Pointing a finger accusingly at you, it would be menacing if it wasn’t for the big, fat droplets of red dripping from his angry features. More of a drenched cat than the gentleman he pretends to be. “Remember that I’m doing you a favor by marrying you-”

You cross your arms, struggling to keep composure. “I shall reimburse-”

“-and acting all haughty as if you were from the royal family itself.” he’s frantic, mouth running a mile a minute. Tugging at his wet strands, “And my hair, oh my beautiful beautiful hair-”

“I shall reimburse the emotional damages, too!”

Dutchess Zenin tackles her son into a soothing embrace you find almost comical, granting you with a venomous glare that you were sure if looks could kill, she’d be lowering you into your grave and waltzing over it with Naoya already.

Simpering, “It’s quite alright my poor boy, this wedding cannot take place! We can find another-”

“No no no- no, I still want to marry her-” His greedy eyes sweep your trembling figure up and down, “Doesn’t matter if she’s an unfit wife, I’ll fix her up-” You’re quirking a brow, “Swear I’ll marry her and fix her up into-”

THUD!

You’re throwing the cup remaining in your hand as hard as you can, hitting Naoya right in the bullseye of his chest. And as soon as the air leaves his lungs, they leave yours too - in a stubborn, infuriated hiss, “Well, I’d never marry a spoiled, pompous brat like you.”

And with a flick of the stray beads of wine on your fingers at his face for good measure, you lift your heavy skirts as scandalously far as they’d travel to dart out of the door.

Out of the winding corridors. 

Out of the Zenin Estate. 

Ignoring every call of your name, every arm reaching out for you - urgently following your feet wherever they took you. Honestly, you’re so busy gasping in deep lungfuls of the cool, fall air embracing you that you’re half-surprised you only crash into a few people on the streets. 

Again. And again. And again and again, yet never stopping. Afraid of being followed by Naoya. Or even worse - your parents.

You barely even slow down until your tailored shoes crunch against gray snow, eyes taking in lines upon lines of towering trees in front of you. Tall, towering. Weaving their branches with the sky - ominous, almost, against the steadily darkening night creeping its way in.

The forest, you’re realizing with a gasp. Have you really come this far? 

Taking a glimpse over your shoulder at the twinkling lights of the town in the distance, you think of the vows that were waiting for you, and the town rumors you’d definitely sparked. Well, a walk to cool off wouldn’t hurt…

And despite wanting to relax, your thoughts only churn with each step. Replaying the scenes from earlier over and over and-

“And your cup will always- fuck- they probably think I’m such a fool.” you’re spitting, kicking at a pile of snow. “Fuck Naoya and his vows, fuck that stupid wine, should’ve shoved it up his-” 

Just then, a sudden gust of fall air puffs up against your ear, sending goosebumps careening down every bit of your exposed skin. You shudder sharply, hands shovelling for warmth inside your gown’s pockets, “Ugh, today’s such a horrible-” Only to cut yourself off with a gasp- “This is…”

You feel for that metallic cold again, hastily pulling out that solid, silvery ring. Meant for Naoya Zenin.

Admittedly gorgeous, an intricate band with a delicate sapphire embedded in its middle. Your mother had spent months tracking down the best jeweler in the country to forge a ring that even the Zenin’s would be impressed with. 

Fit for a king.

You scoff, “An unfit wife, my ass. It’s not even that difficult.”

Still feeling highly insulted, and only slightly embarrassed for it, you clear your throat. Speaking clearly into the stiff air, “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Determinedly you stride your way into the middle of a slight clearing, “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

Grasping a stray branch, you mock lighting the altar candles. “With this candle, I will light your way in the darkness.”

Before setting down on one knee - customary for the groom, yet feeling so right when you gaze down at a tree root sticking up from the blanket of snow. Poised like the prettiest of fingers at the foot of a towering oak.

“With this ring,” You’re sliding it down easily as you would have to onto the man you hated the most. “I ask you to be mine.”

.

.

.

You don’t expect the sudden shift. 

You don’t expect the wind to pick up, you don’t expect for a murder of crows to materialize from the midnight darkness and crowd on a tree right behind you. Letting the tree root slip from your fingers, you whirl around - what- a storm?

But before you can think of any answers, that withered branch shoots further out of the ground. Barely giving you a split-second to jump backwards before cupping your cheek, gently. 

And you could’ve sworn that one twig glides across your cheek - just the way one’s thumb would have. Like the softest of lovers. 

Gasping in fear, you fall backwards, splaying out into the uncomfortably bone-chilling snow below.

You can only watch as the tree root twitches once. Twice. And your ears thunder with the high-pitched howls of the wind, and a sudden, booming bang! bang! bang!

Shit. 

Your eyes widen, it was coming from under the ground. 

The ground that was splitting open before your very eyes. 

Wider. And wider. Like something was baring itself before you. Something was clawing all the way from hell, that tree root only surging up, up, upwards in a long, limb-like fashion. Branching out into five fingers that dig their way into the ground. Hard. 

And if you didn’t think you were about to faint from just this - you were definitely on the verge of it when the fingers lead their way into a forearm, a shoulder. Miles upon miles of skin - a person, towering above you, silhouetted by moonlight.

He looks at you with sapphire eyes. Close. 

A man.

Beautiful. 

Whispering, “I do.” Nose to cold nose, thick white lashes fluttering shut. “You may now kiss the groom.”

---

You’re barely half-awake when you realize that that was probably the strangest dream you’ve had in your life. 

Groaning, you rub blearily at your eyes - yet, through the bursts of stars and pounding flashes of headaches, all you can think about is him and his chilling lips on yours.

Soft, like a leaving lover.  

Even in your most feverish of dreams, you’d never conjured up anyone so ethereal. Tall, powerful despite the almost-sickly air about him, and the deep circles underneath his gleaming eyes. 

But so gorgeous - sorrowfully so. 

The image burned permanently into your mind, like your most favorite of memories. Every tiny detail down from the almost-blinding reflection of the moon against his cloudy hair, to how that illuminated his soft smile - that tiny dimple at the corner of his pert, pretty mouth. 

You remember how he wore a wedding suit, the kind that nobles these days wouldn’t dare touch with a six foot sword with how it looked centuries out of fashion. Stark white, with fine silver detailing down the velvety fabric for you to admire.

How ironic, somehow, the thought made you sad.

But most of all, you especially remember the way he looked at you.

Just like he was right now.

“Ah!”

“Now that’s not usually the reaction I- fuck!”

He was real. So painfully real.

And clutching his face where you’d claimed a swat at one of high cheekbones.

“Ouch, my wife has a real good arm on her, huh?” Blinking back the haziness in your eyes, you catch sight of that same summer blue gaze, eyes crinkled slightly at the ends. Tender, despite being attacked by you less than a minute after gaining consciousness. “Though, I love a strong woman.”

“New arrival! Looks like we got ourselves a breather-”

“Looks like she fainted, is she alright? You know we can’t keep her long-”

“Can I touch her? Looks so soft~”

White - white fills your vision, too-late are you realizing that you’re being pressed into the soft coat of his chest. Inching you away from a hulking, four-armed creature, he mutters, “She’s my wife, you curse.”

“What-” It takes you a few more seconds to finally find your voice. In those moments you look up to take in his boyishly pretty features - about your age. Human, had it not been for that otherworldly faint blue pallor. “Is this a joke? Where am-”

Choking on your words as you take a sweeping look around the - tavern? Realm? It looked like the very same one in your own town, except bright. Musical. Everything that your home wasn’t. Finding faces you could never imagine looking at you - some beautiful, some mere skeletons, all taken out of your wildest dreams. 

And all dead, it hits you with a jolt. 

Yet, somehow, you’ve never felt safer in his arms. 

“Something wrong, my love?”

You pinch yourself, “I need questions- now.”

“You mean answers.” One from the pub crowd scoffs - a towering man, handsome. He’d look ever-so-ordinary if it wasn’t for the completely skeletal arm on his left side. And of course, that same death-like serenity. “Honestly, Gojo, you picked an airhead or what?”

The man that still held you - Gojo, you assume - whines in protest, “Shut up, Toji. I’d always love her regardless- and she said her vows so perfectly.”

“I did…” you breathe.

Shit. 

Shit shit shit- you did.

Cocking your head, you ask. “Who are you?” 

He’s rolling his eyes, gifting you a crooked grin of pearly whites. “Your husband, obviously?”

And before you can pinch yourself again to make sure you weren’t dreaming, and that last time was a fluke - or perhaps smack him again - Gojo shows off one slender hand. Naoya Zenin’s ring adorned proudly across his ring finger. Your ring. With your vows. 

“So…” you let out a giggle of still disbelief. “You’re the tree-”

“Not quite but-”

“Oh! I love this story- could make a skeleton cry.”

“Heh, yeah yeah sing it, king of curses.”

“Please don’t.”

“You see, welcome to the Land of the Dead, doll.” A man with pink hair sets down his drink to throw one of his four arms around your shoulder, much to Gojo’s chagrin. Words dripping with taunt,  “N’ lemme tell you the story of our lovely corpse groom.”

You’re dragged along through the crowded, eerily lit tavern, everyone jostling each other to better get a look at you. Poking and prodding, some even gasping at the feeling of your thundering pulse. 

He hums, “Here we have a pompous prince known miles around-” And you could tell him and Gojo had already known each other long, with how he was toying with the other man. “-fell hard and fast for a cute lil’ peasant girl much like yourself-”

“Sukuna, stop it.” Gojo grits, jaw clenched. 

“-but, alas. When dear ol’ dad the king said ‘no’, he jus’ couldn’t cope. So our dear lovers came up with a plan to elope-”

You’re thrust into the arms of an attractive blond man, almost half of his entire face held together with stitches and bone. Heaving out a sigh in a way you could very much feel akin to, “Meeting up late at night is always a stupid plan, even with all the wine and riches for the road. You might not need much when you have love, but you never know what’s lurking. And, well, on that dark night, our prince here paid the price.” When you look back at the white-haired man his eyes seemed significantly softer, if that was even possible. 

Toji’s the one by your side this time, “Poof! Dropped dead as dust waiting for his dear girl, no evidence, no body, no bride. What a crybaby he was when he arrived. Didn’t even want to stay here-”

“-because then he made a promise to wait upstairs.” Another man - with such gorgeous, long hair makes himself known this time. Forehead littered in strange stitches, as if it’d been opened and fixed many, many times. “And waited and waited asleep for one hundred years to this day until out of the blue, you came along, sweetness. The lovely bride, to our corpse groom.”

You. 

And Gojo looks at you like he can’t look away.

Lone, standing there with his arms open as the story tapers out. Waiting. 

Until you came along.

---

“HERE YE, HERE YE…FUTURE BRIDE OF ZENIN HOUSE SEEN LURKING IN THE FOREST WITH A MYSTERY MAN– now for the weather…” 

“What?” your mother hisses at the bellows of the local newsman, well, rumor-spreader, more like. But he’s never been more useful than now. Sneaking an urgent glance at the stunned Dutchess Zenin by her side, she elbows your father, “We come outside to search for our daughter only to hear this? How could we let this-”

“Maybe it’s a ah- slow news day?”

They’re interrupted by a sudden, sharp clearing of one’s throat - dripping with the distinct tone of condescension that only a member of the Zenin family could possess. “We are one bride short for the wedding tomorrow. What a scandal!” 

“Ah!” she’s gasping. Waving her hands frantically, “W-we promise we’ll find her before the wedding-”

“You better.”

“No.” Naoya Zenin’s voice was brimming with something dangerous, an eerie, steady lilt of determination to it. But he’s not even looking at anyone in the group, eyes trained firmly on the woody entrance to the forest in the distance. “I’ll be the one to find her.”

Finally, something that seems to appease the huffing matriarch.

Only leaving her sullen son with a nod of approval, “And Naoya…” She makes sure the other two bothers were out of earshot, greedily scurrying back to the warmth of the Zenin household. “Remember, the ah- family funds are drying up. Hurry.”

---

Gojo Satoru, you learn, was as nervous about this marriage as you were.

“This is where I always visited after first dying.” he muses, ice-cold fingers wrapped snugly with yours as he guides you gently through various crooked stairs and skeletons of town. “The view takes my breath away- well, if I could breathe, that is.”

You’re startling out a laugh that has both of you surprised, and he turns to you with such breathless awe. 

“Beautiful.”

“What-” your eyes widen - and you don’t know whether it’s from his sudden little compliment, or from where you two had finally stopped walking. 

A steep cliff, overlooking the entire, vast town of multi-color lights. The rigid structure from where you came could never compare. Complete chaos. But as pretty as those paintings you read about in books, views you never thought you’d see. 

You rest your hands atop the spindly barrier surrounding the very edge, marveling. “It is beautiful…”

“It is.” Gojo’s tone is rich, and his eyes never stray from you despite all else there is to drink in. It takes you a few moments of counting all the bustling figures in the distance before you finally mount up the courage to meet his hypnotic gaze. 

Gojo jolts when you look his way, as if he wasn’t expecting it. Hastily, he flusters to pat down the sides of his suit - tattered at places, patchy as if once-pristine but ruined with age. He’s smiling once he ruffles through his breast pocket, pulling out something glinting.

You’re letting out a tiny gasp when he shows off a silver, heart-shaped locket. Intricate, obviously custom-tailored - you’d never quite seen anything like it. Positively beaming with all the shine that the rest of him had lost. 

Treasured. 

“It’s for you.”

“What?” Your jaw falls slack in shock, pushing away Gojo’s held-out hands. But he was ever-persistent. “Please- I can’t, that- that looks like it should be for someone precious.” 

“And it is.” 

This was the firmest you’d heard his sing-song voice, and at your slightest split-second of faltering, he snatches the opportunity to circle his hands around your neck. Deftly clasping it from behind, Gojo only smiles, soft pads of his fingers lingering at your nape. “I’ve had it for years.” You wanted to know exactly how many years that meant. “Consider it a wedding gift~”

Your own dust over the cool metal pendant, heart lurching. “If only you let me know about our wedding in advance, I would’ve gifted you something, too.”

“Heh, you don’t have to.”

“Do too”

“Do not.”

“Do too.” You cross your arms, boring your eyes into his. “I’m not going to be an unfit wife.”

There’s a second of silence. 

One.

Two.

And at this point, you half-expected your parents and Naoya’s to just burst from behind the nearby stairway to tell you this was all some elaborate test - before Gojo just explodes in peels of cackles. 

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I- hah!” he’s barely able to wheeze out, wiping away stray tears of joy. “You never change, huh-” 

It takes the embarrassed tapping of your feet for Gojo to finally straighten back up to his tall figure, muttering out a few more indiscernible phrases underneath his breath. Clearing his throat, “Now who said you’d ever be an ‘unfit wife’, sweetheart- Y’know I really didn’t believe Toji’s airhead comment but- oh-”

You land a half-hearted punch solidly in his stomach - and usually, you’d think twice, thrice before acting this familiar with anyone. Even then, you wouldn’t follow through underneath your mother’s watchful eye. 

Ah, but you’ve never smiled harder when you claim. “I think I won our first argument as a married couple.”

“Oh, can you do this f’me when I have an argument with Sukuna, next?” Gojo chuckles, wiggling his brows. 

He has to dodge your playful hand a few more times - well, he would have had to. But he’s taking them all gladly, pulling you by the wrist to press you flush against his chest. “But fine, you win. Maybe as a wedding gift we can consumm- I’m kidding I’m kidding- follow me, I have the perfect idea.”

And you couldn’t not come with him, with the way that Gojo was eagerly dragging you through the town plaza and back into the now-empty tavern, where you’d remembered had a grand piano nestled away.

Gojo’s pulling out the seat for you, before promptly taking his own flush beside you. Nudging you with one of his shoulders, he starts up a beautifully haunting few lower notes. Delicate. “You don’t have to play, you can listen if you’d like-”

“Hey, I know this one.” you’re gasping, eyes lighting up with the recognition of that familiar somber from the Zenin house. But something about it this time felt so right. 

Before you know it, your hands are moving faster than you can hold them back, joining Gojo in his sweeping melody on the higher notes. It rings in the air around you two, jostling your body up against his. 

“You know it.” he breathes, such a brilliant grin making way onto his pretty features when you two continue your little duet. And you swear you could hear him suck in a sharp inhale before playing even harder on the keys - a challenge.

And you were never one to back down. 

“Heh, you’re not half bad-” But his own little boast gets cut off by Gojo’s half-skeletal wrist snapping off, twiddling up, up, up the grand piano and on its merry way around your shoulder. “Pardon my enthusiasm, my love.”

You help him reattach it back, an interesting quirk of being half-dead, you suppose. “I like your enthusiasm.”

There’s a slow, stuttering silence that echoes afterwards, and you’re shivering from the slightly cold bite of the underground. Gojo wraps his full arm around your shoulder this time, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that he was still bone-cold. 

“How…” he gulps, barely meeting your eyes. “How did you know that song?”

But you couldn’t tear yours away from him, “Oh? That song? Well- before I uh- married you, I was actually engaged-”

His pretty lips fall slack, “Oh…”

You’re not sure why you hasten to explain yourself, “B-but he was a prick- and I threw a wine cup at him just before coming here.”

“That’s my girl.” Gojo winks, and you’re feeling your skin heat up.

“Anyway, this song was to be played at the wedding. So my mother made me memorize every single note- she failed to tell me it was a duet, however.”

“It was.”

Something about those two words comes out breathless, barely hanging on. And you’re biting your bottom lip ragged before the question escapes you, “You were engaged, as well? Before- as a prince- I mean- oh, forget-”

To your surprise, Gojo only chuckles - deep voice breaking ever-so-slightly at the very end. His fingers glide across the piano with a familiar sadness that you can’t quite pinpoint. Chest rumbling, “Well, it’s just as the others said. We were meant to run away together, but your dear ol’ husband here died just before we could.” 

You’re swallowing the lead that’d seemed to piled up heavily in your throat, still afraid to push too far. “And the- the bride? What happened to her?”

“I…don’t know…she probably saw I wasn’t there and went back, had a happier life with a more deserving husband- children, even.” He looks towards the perpetual night sky, Adam’s apple bobbing heftily. “It’s funny- today’s a hundred years since that day.”

Something hurt. And your chest churned at the thought of him waiting and waiting in the darkness for years. For someone.

“You loved her?”

He looks at you - really looks at you - and then down at the gleaming locket. “I love her. And I made a promise, I wait for her - in life and death.”

Something really hurt - and it wasn’t just that hollow, aching burn in your chest. No, your head was now throbbing with such a splitting pain that you can’t help but grab your temple with a yelp. Eyes scrunching shut with tears, trying to down out that drilling thrum. 

“Shit-” you’re hearing, foggy, like it was in the distance. “Shit shit shit-” Big arms wrap around you, “Are you alright? Shit-”

The swinging pub doors slam-

“What happened?”

“The bride from upstairs-”

“She’s still here?! She already dead or what?”

More and more voices are joining in - and you’re not sure if you’re thankful that they drown out that harrowing thunder of blood in your ears or angry that they’re making it ache more deafeningly in response. 

“Please- space.” Gojo’s stern command rings across the plaza, for a moment of clarity you’re thinking that he’d make the perfect leader of sorts. The perfect prince. “My wife needs space, and you all will leave-”

Nanami’s strict tremor was distinguishable anywhere. “What she needs is to go back upstairs, Gojo.” Another pair of rough hands grasp your shoulders, and you hear a growl from above you. “With fresh air, with her kind. I don’t know what fantasy you’re playing out but she needs to be back with the breathers, down here isn’t good for her.”

“But-”

Just at that unfortunate moment, your head wracks with another painful burst, making you cry out. Clinging onto Gojo’s soft jacket for dear life. 

“But she’s my wife.”

Everyone goes quiet. 

You were sure he was crying now, and oh how badly you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But, instead, Gojo’s the one soothing a hand down your back, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deep, grounding gasps by the chain of your locket, “N-nanamin’s right- we- I have to get you back.”

Your eyes shoot open, “What- no-”

“It’s for your own good.” Pressing a slow kiss to your forehead, “Trust me.”

“But-”

“Please?”

---

Gojo Satoru had spent so long in the darkness, that he’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.

Even more so when you were by his side. 

“Oh…” And despite not having a beating heart, he swears he could feel it racing at the crisp scrunch! of freshly fallen snow underneath his polished shoes. Arms immediately wrapping around your waist, twirling you to him, “How I missed the beautiful upstairs.”

You’re giggling, batting your lashes up at him. “Well, you’re not doing much sightseeing right now, are you, Gojo?”

“Please.” He rests his icy forehead against yours, waltzing you slowly around the clearing. Your first dance. “Call me Satoru, I would like to part ways having heard my name on your tongue once, than not at all.” 

And ah, it hurt him more than that dull, spreading pain of death to simply see your expression crumble. Lower lip wobbling when you whisper, “Do we have to?”

It’s as if that tiny tremble in your voice jolts him back to his senses, and he’s letting go of you as if you burned. Turning his back so that you won’t see him swipe underneath his dampening eyes, “We do.” he nods solemnly. Still gazing out through the barren trees, the snow breaking in. “But I would…if you’d like- I would really like you to say my name just once.”

Nothing - not one of your quipping insults, not even one of your sweet, sweet giggles. Gojo could barely even hear that shallow breathing of yours. 

“My love?”

Nothing.

Gojo whirls around, “My love?”

Nothing. 

---

“Let me go let me- go-” you spit, voice dripping with a deadly growl that should decidedly not be used in front of your future in-laws. But you didn’t give a fuck right now. “I will never- ah-”

Unceremoniously, you’re thrown like a mere debris in front of Dutchess Zenin’s gold-tipped boots, hands splaying out against the cool marble to dredge up some ounce of balance. You look up into her burning glare, hissing, “I will never marry your son.” 

But it’s like you’d never spoken at all.

She’s turning to Naoya, stood proudly behind you, holding back his snickers. “Ah, my son-” Reaching her arms around to brush off the soft pattering of snow down his coat. “-I see you’ve brought your wife back.”

“Of course, mother.” he’s humming. “Had to walk all throughout that crummy forest until I saw her-” At this, he’s turning towards your parents, who could only watch from the sidelines. “-with another man no less- well, can’t quite call him that if he didn’t even see his woman being dragged off into the dark.”

Dutchess Zenin cackles,and the sound makes you grit your teeth. “That other man is my husband-”

“What?” 

It’s your own mother speaking this time - eyes widened. Fuming. She comes up to you in a few urgent, sharp strides, grabbing at the now-torn and frayed edges of your gown. “What nonsense are you speaking-” Sneaking a glance at your father, “Our daughter seems to have lost her mind, dear.”

He’s just a bit more gentle - cautious, almost. As if confronting a cornered wildcat when he ruffles through your pockets for the ring. Finding none. 

You’re wrenching yourself away, “I’m fine- but father, listen- I was practicing my vows in the forest-” Every eye was on you know, and oh you’ve never felt more of a spectacle. “-and I put that wedding ring on a tree root- and it- it came alive and oh- he was a groom. A beautiful corpse groom-”

“That trip to the forest must have bogged up her mind- yes yes, she must be imagining things.”

“Of course, but the wedding…poor dear-”

“The only thing she’s good for is the money.” Dutchess Zenin gruffs, tired of hiding her disdain. “And maybe a free trip to the hospi-”

“The wedding will take place.” Naoya cuts in gruffly, snapping his fingers at a nearby attendant and pointing at you. “Call the officiary, and as for my future bride, I don’t care if you must force her into that wedding dress, I don’t care if you have to drag her here - she will marry me one way or the other. Now.”

It’s like you’re a puppet - their puppet. Being rapidly walked and bathed about, dolled-up in a white, silken wedding dress that you could never see yourself standing in next to him. 

It fits you like a glove, attuned to your body as if it was made for you - and you almost hated how beautiful it was, adorned with tiny silver inklings and the most delicate of lace. Made with too much love to be borne out of this dreary household, but when you turned to ask your jittery handmaiden about it, she’d only cryptically answered about “the dress being with this family for a long, long time.”

No one here seems to give you answers.

Or grace.

Or anything but locked windows that you crack a nail or two attempting to open and flee and a long, decorated aisle to walk down to your future husband. Naoya. 

Your throat tightens when you’re stepping back into that hallway - now flourishing with bouquets of blue, blue baby’s breath, and twinkling candles. It was almost colorful, for this town, at least.

You shudder out a teary sigh when the tender piano starts up again - the exact same tune you’d played with Gojo. But cold. And suddenly, you’re realizing that you never asked him how he knew the song.

“Pssst! Walk!” Your mother’s high-pitched hiss is enough to snap you out of your little reverie, glassy eyes snapping up to look at her urgent signal to hurry up.

And so you walk, but not to the one man you wanted to.

Naoya’s smirk lies as smugly as ever when you take your place beside him at the altar, poised, and perfect in his pressed suit, his glinting sword. Whispering snidely from the corner of his mouth. “Smile a little, it’s a wedding after all.”

You keep your gaze trained firmly on the officiary starting his speech, “Perhaps in disappointment, we are perfectly matched.”

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this bride in holy matrimony-” Gesturing a wrinkled hand at Naoya, “You may begin first.”

He raises his hand in a solemn oath, razor eyes boring relentlessly into yours. Voice dangerous, humming. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” This time, he was pointedly the one to pick up that cup on the altar table - a steady, unbreakable metal this time. “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” 

Your trembly fingers wrap around the bottle of wine, starting to slowly pour. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty for I- I will be…”

Shit.

Shit, you can’t do it. 

Your words struggle to come out, and you could burn in the sheer anger already wafting from Naoya. 

“I will- I will be-”

“How scandalous to marry an already-married woman~!”

The gasp that echoes throughout the hall is almost as deafening as the booming crash! of those towering, mahogany doors being swung open. Clattering against the walls so hard that your teeth chatter with vibration - but you didn’t care. Didn’t even feel it because you’re too awe-struck by what was standing in front of you.

Or more accurately, who. 

“Satoru!” The tears are falling hotly down your cheeks, you barely have the patience to lift up your layers upon layers of gauzy skirts before stumbling your way into his arms at the very end of the aisle. Ready. Ever-loving. Catching you easily like he’d been waiting a hundred years for this very moment. 

“I thought you left me waiting.” he breathes.

“I would never- and- and you’re here.” 

“Mhm–”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “How did you even know where to find me?”

“Our duet- there would be no other but this house that would know it-” He wraps his arms even more snugly around your waist, white locks tickling your nose. “And you did promise to lift my sorrows, what type of husband would I be if I didn’t do the same?”

“You. You- What- what is the meaning of this?” Dutchess Zenin’s squawk tears through your little moment, she’s whirling into a furious stand, fists clenched. “Married woman- husband? You’re dead!”

Gojo remains calm, sapphire eyes narrowing, “I am.”

But the ever-composed woman you’d feared for so long was now running her mouth a mile a minute, half-ripping out chunks of hair in frustration as the officiary held her back from storming her way towards the two of you. 

“You’re dead you’re dead you’re dead-” she screeches, and even Naoya could only watch with his mouth fallen. “You’re dead- my family made sure of that-”

She stops short, mouth opening and closing in a gasp until you breathe, “M-made sure?”

“Yes-” She’s fighting against the hold, still muttering to herself maniacally. “Shit- we made sure to- oh god why- do we have to kill you all over again! Your wretched Gojo royal family is wiped out- I still- I still have the power, the riches- All because we left you-”

“For dead.” he whispers. You’re too shocked to gasp - to do anything but look up at his reaction. “But she came back to me.”

“Her? This one- Once more you found that insignificant little-”

And at this very moment, Naoya just bellows in a guttural scream, everything his mother was restrained from doing with how he’d closed the gap between you two in a few urgent seconds. One hand wrapped roughly around yours, “I don’t care- You forget she was engaged to me first.”

“She’s still my wife.” Gojo spits. 

“Not if you’re-” Naoya’s unsheathing his sword haphazardly. Swinging. “Dead!”

Schwing–!

It would have been sure to hit you. 

Would have been sure to gravely injure your side - if Gojo hadn’t deftly moved himself squarely in front of you, that is. The sharp blade slicing right through his ribs - yet, he still smiles. “You forget I already am.” In one, fluid motion tackling the sword to holt at its bejeweled hilt - pointed right at Naoya’s chest. “Let go of me and my wife, before you join me.”

It’s silence.

Silence and the smell of fear. Sour, and saturated when Naoya’s stepping away, one unsteady foot after the other-

“I will ruin you as my ancestors have, Gojo brat-”

Dutchess Zenin.

Your body moves before your mind - before any form of thinking, as if on instinct. Yet, you already knew what was coming. 

And soon enough, you’re standing in front of a stunned Gojo, face splattered with the red, red wine in her silvery cup. Drip! drip! dripping down your stained lips and onto the marbled floors. 

But something about it tasted bitter. 

Different.

.

.

.

And all of a sudden - you see dark.

“Poison! By gods, the wine was poisoned!”

“How will the wedding go on?”

“No- no no no I just wanted to her sick- to get her will–shit-”

“My love---listen----hear--me?” 

In the foggy distance, you could hear girlish, high-pitched screams that sounded strangely like Naoya’s, and the familiarly dark chuckle of- Sukuna? Sounding ready to pounce on fresh meat. “Heheh, new arrival - and some unfinished business, huh?”

“S’Toru–” you’re whispering, eyes blearily. Heart cold. Suddenly, everything about you was cold. And the only thing you could register right now is the fact that you were still in his arms - always was. “Toru- am I- where am I?”

“You’re here, sweetheart.” he gasps, big fat tears splattering onto your face. The only sense of warmth that you could feel, other than the one in your no-longer-beating heart. And you can’t help but wonder - can a heart be broken even when it stops beating? Because he was living two deaths now - his own - laying there poisoned with wine so long ago on the forest floor, with only the Zenin’s to watch, and you to wait for him much later - and most importantly, yours. “You’re- you’re here, with me.” He places a sweet, sweet kiss onto your lips. “Rest now, I’ll wait for you. I promise- I promise.” 

And through your hazy vision, the only thing that you could quite see was that silver locket you’d never thought to look through, out of fear - sprung open. Baring two grainy, clouded portraits - as good as a photo. 

Of him 

And…you. 

“I’ll always wait for you, in life and death.”

---

“Hey- Toru–” your voice rings out in Gojo’s favorite song, peering curiously at the boyishly grinning prince. “Do you think I’ll be an unfit wife?”

He throws his head back with a cackle, peering through his long lashes from where he was resting his head in your lap. “What- no? Whatever makes you think that, silly girl?”

You’re settling yourself further down the young oak - your favorite little hiding spot ever since you’d introduced your secret lover to it. Grumbling half-jokingly, you thread your fingers through his soft, snow-white hair. “Well perhaps because someone refuses to help me do anything in preparation for tonight-”

“Shhh!” Gojo’s bringing a finger to his lips, glancing around over-dramatically. “You never know when my father will be jumping from behind the bushes.” At your amused laughter, “N’ besides, doesn’t matter if we’re going to elope, I’m not letting my wife pick up a thing.”

“What- no-”

“I’ll snag my wedding suit- and that specially-made dress for you heh- and get the attendants to sneak out some leftovers from the banquet. The Zenin family has just gifted some wine I know you’ll love.” 

Craning his head to press a slow kiss to your forehead, “We’ll drink, we’ll say our vows- you better have memorized them this time-” And another on your nose, “Then I’ll have you drunk in another way~ ow! Okay okay- don’t hit royalty–! And run away to our happily ever after.” Then, finally, lingeringly on your mouth,“Trust me.”

“But-”

“Please?”

You’re fiddling with the chain around your hefty, heart-shaped locket with a huff, finally caving in. “Fine- but then-” Deftly unclasping it, “-you have the responsibility of keeping this safe, too, I have to teach piano to the little ones in town again today, and if anyone catches me with a piece like this I’ll be hanged for thievery before ever getting married.”

“Our duet?”

“Our duet.”

He twirls that delicate pendant around his fingers, brows scrunching in half-seriousness. “I’ll protect it with my life-” Almost flinging it towards the end of the clearing in his haste to salute you, “Ah- pardon my enthusiasm, my love.”

“I like your enthusiasm, dummy.” you’re rolling your eyes at his antics. “But what if I’m late? The music lessons always take so long…”

“Just meet me here at our place - promise I’ll wait for you, of course. In life and death.”

You never did find out if Gojo Satoru waited for you.

You never found him that night - running late to the clearing, only to be met with no sign of him. Not that night. Not the night after. Night after night, you waited for him - watched as the Gojo royal family fell and the Zenin’s raided their palace, as the town started to grow and you stayed the very same.

With stray hope, even in your final ages, waiting for him and the marriage that won’t take place.

Not for a hundred years.

---

You’re waking up remembering the feeling of those cold, cold lips on yours. 

Finally, remembering.

“Sa-Toru-” you’re gasping, gulping in heavy lungfuls of air before you realize - you don’t need it anymore. Eyes startling open, you wince at the even the dim, heady lighting overhead. “I’m…”

“Dead.”

His words are gentle - just above a whisper, as if anything else will scare you off. But his words have the complete opposite reaction, in fact, you’re reeling him in so close by the silvery lapels of his weathered jacket. Wedding suit meeting your wedding dress.

You feel over his broad chest, and then over yours. Breathing out in awe, “I- I really am dead.”

Gojo’s wincing, running the soft pads of his fingers down your scalp. Massaging, “How- how do you feel, my love?”

Too-late you’re realizing that you’re splayed out on what seems like a plush, engulfing bed. Blankets upon blankets of velvety fabrics covering the surface, like someone had tried their very best to replicate warmth. 

“I think I feel…” you’re muttering, the very corners of your painted lips turning upwards at the way that Gojo was hanging onto your every word. Pretty mouth dropped into a soft oh! eyes wide and true. You just can’t help but drag him into the tightest embrace your joints could possibly handle. “-that I haven’t spent enough alone-time with my husband.”

He laughs - he laughs and laughs like he hasn’t before, like it’d been bubbling up in his throat for years and finally set free. 

“Oh, my love.” Gojo reveres, pressing a trail of hot kisses down the side of your face. Lingering in a languid lick where big, salty tears of yours were welling up. “We have all the time in the world- I just- just- do you remember?”

You’re pretending to think, leaving him careening at all your minute expressions. Finally cracking, “Of course, I remember- all of it, dummy-” Swatting his chest, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He’s gulping heavily, “I always knew that- that it was you the moment I saw your face- you look exactly as you did. Exactly as beautiful as the day I lost you, after all.” Cupping your cheek, “And oh, sweetheart, what a blessing it would be to marry you. But how could I ever tell you when you didn’t even remember me? How could I so selfishly ask you to throw away something so dear as life for me? Even for a promise?”

“I would have done it.” you’re pouting, brows scrunching. 

“Exactly.” 

“I waited for you, y’know. For years, until my death. No ‘deserving husband’, and no children.”

He gasps a tiny, meaningful gasp. And for all how Gojo loved to run his mouth, right now he only presses a sultry kiss to your forehead, “But in this life, or the last, or whatever comes next-” On your nose now, “-I’ll wait for you. Always have, always will.” Finally - yearningly - on your mouth, “In life and in death.”

Gojo kisses you like he’s been waiting a hundred years for it - and would wait a hundred more before he can again. 

Pressing one, two. Three steamingly hot, open-mouthed on your spit-glossed lips before moving to trail them down the underside of your jaw. Dragging his raw lips in a messy glide, he’s tittering when all it takes is one sudden bite at the soft spot on your neck to get you to jump. 

“Heh- you never change-” he murmurs into your heated skin, licking down the sting with a slow spread of his tongue. 

“T-Toru–” you’re managing to gasp out despite his relentless attack on your mouth. Making him wrench out such a pained grunt when you pull his face back ever-so-slightly to look into Gojo’s eyes. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Gojo can only cock his head in confusion, gaze still half-lidded and locked on your lips. 

“You’re forgetting your promise from all those years ago–” you’re dragging out in a honeyed-tone, giggling at the way his hulking body squirms impatiently. “-to consummate our marriage.”

And oh.

Oh, Gojo Satoru feels he’s dying six times over already. 

He feels like his bleary head is about to go into overdrive - as was the sudden tightening in his pants. 

“W-well then…” he’s rasping out, voice so ragged, dipping into a husky baritone that for a second you almost don’t recognize it. Two of his long fingers cup your face once more - rougher this time, making your lips squeeze together into an almost-embarrassing oh! “Open that mouth f’me, my love.”

You barely even realize it when you do - not until Gojo’s spitting a thick, translucent wad of his syrupy saliva right onto your lolling tongue. 

Nodding smugly when you’re taking him all, he’s swiping the curve of his thick thumb down that purposeful splatter on the corner of your lips. Because you knew the prince of a nation should have perfect aim, you knew he just liked seeing your dewy eyes flutter. 

Whispering hoarsely against your lips, “I ask you to be mine.”

“Yes-” you’re whining, your hands scrambling down the decadent fabrics of his suit. “Yes yes yes- please- n-need more, Toru-”

And the sound of that cute lil’ nickname you’d made for him in that sweetened tone makes Gojo’s entire body wrack with a violent shudder. Head throwing back, white lashes flickering shut- “O-oh, shit- shit you’re gonna be the death of me-”

But whatever little joke playing on your tongue just dissipates when Gojo’s shedding his outer coat off slowly. Bloodied, silken jacket hitting the ground- bloodied? You’ll have to ask about that later.

And then his mouth is on yours again - teeth clashing, tasting metal, his pretty lips wrapping around your hot tongue to just suck. Lazily, like his favorite candy. 

“So beautiful-” his words puff out in a feverish pant. Chest huffing - no, heaving - you can only keen when you feel something so hard and massive nudge up in a gentle kiss against your high. “So perfect–” The sodden curve of his achy tip dragging in a wet smear down your leg. “So mine.”

As soon as you’re blinking your dazed eyes back open, you’re hit with what looked like miles upon miles of Gojo Satoru. Curving muscles sitting prettily and casting shadow in the low lighting - it made you just drool. 

Shit, when did he even take his shirt off?

“Heh, already so needy, sweetheart?” He kisses up the glossy trickle, groaning into your mouth, “So cute–”

But, of course, you weren’t exactly one to be pushed around, either.

With a low purr, you cup that bulging tent right in-between his muscled thighs. Fingers skimming over inches upon inches of his girthy, solid shaft - he just gasps. “O-oh, you little minx- do you enjoy p-playing with my hngh- sanity?”

With a snicker, it doesn’t take you long to smudge the pads of your digits at that thickly spreading pool of precum. Glossing a thin sheen all the way down to your wrists with how fucking greedily he was throbbing at your touch. 

“F-fuck-” he’s hastily clearing his throat as soon as it breaks off into a pathetic whine. Hips bucking forwards in mindless, staggering gyrations into your hand like Gojo didn’t even realize what he was doing right now. “Fuck fuck fuck- honey, I-”

The neediest little grunts spill from his puffed-up lips, and he’s moving urgently - hastily, when sitting upright to all but rip that bejeweled belt off of his slender waist. Tugging his white pants down, down, down and-

Oh. 

“Fuck, Toru.”

Gojo was so unfairly pretty - all of him.

Even every single inch of his long, thick shaft, smeared with glistening precum sobbing out from his fat, round head. Blushed darker than the rest of him - matching his innocent cheeks right now. So hard it looked painful. 

Twitching over and over in saturated gushes coating his prominently throbbing veins, his tight balls. Your fingers. 

Wrapping tight around his flushed base, he was so incredibly big that you’re worried your fingers wouldn’t even close. Scratching up against those drenched tufts of cloudy white at his toned pelvis, the sight is enough to make you gulp. 

“Yes-” Gojo’s rasping, head thrown back because shit did it feel good to have your pretty lil’ fingers all wrapped around him. Hips stuttering up, up, up- “Yes yes yes- c’mon- c-c’mon my wife-”

Shit, those words spilling from his lips are enough to steer into such a loud moan, and he’s letting his jaw fall unhinged. Jaw-droppingly powerful back muscles flexing when he falls into a hunch, kissing wetly at your lips. 

“Tighter- squeeze ah, squeeze me at my tip-” Gojo’s babbling, drunken eyes so thoroughly locked on where you were pumping your fist back and forth. “Y-yeah hngh- and glide your thumb over just—”

You’re swiping the very tip of your thumb underneath that sensitive slit of his, the slightest touch enough to make him bawl out in a dripping sheen of precum. Reddening even more, his hefty girth in your hand jolts sensitively. 

“S-s’this–” you stagger out, wrist aching when you’re moving it faster. And faster. Ears ringing with the sloppy fap! fap! fap! of your fingers clenching around his thick, circular girth, the splatters of precum it’s forcing from him. Kissing gently down his burning shoulder, “S’this good, Toru?”

And god, how dare you even ask that?

With a sudden groan, he crashes his lips into yours again. Addicted. Growling against your whiny mouth, you’re flinching at the nip of his sharp canines. 

“Oh, yer perfect-” he’s blinking back big, fat tears from behind those glassy eyes. And the soft plane of his palms dance ravenously down your body - all your curves, your dips where your wedding dress was hiking up. But most importantly at your sopping wet cunt. “-so so- p-perfect- any harder n’ m’gonna make ya a pretty momma right now, right here.”

His words come out a burst - a beg. 

In that very heady moment he’s just bullying his thick digits past your soaked pussy - absolutely useless with how fucking translucent it was. Sticking to your sopping wet folds like a second skin that he wanted to rip off. 

“S-so oh!” Sucking in a sharp gasp at the sight of that tiny lace wrapped around his fingers, “Such a pretty cunt, wearin’ such a dirty lil’ thing, naughty girl- who was this for?”

And you couldn’t dare bear to wrench your lips open, to meet that dark glint in Gojo’s gaze. Hooded, such a slow, leering grin growing all over his face when the seconds tumble by. When your softened fingers falter around his length.

“Who was this for?” he’s echoing. “N’ no lying to your h-husband.”

“Toru-”

“Tell me, my pretty wife.”

“It was-” you’re mewling out, choking on your tiny confession when he slides his index solidly down the drippingly wet purse of your swollen pussy lips. Puffed-up and sensitive against where he was rubbing that cool metal ring against them. “-w-was for ngh- N-Naoya- but it was Dutchess Zenin that made me-”

Oh, but fuck - it didn’t matter who made you wear those sinful panties. 

Because it’s only taking Gojo Satoru a split-second to crane his hot mouth downwards and bite down on the very hem of your saturated panties. Biting the edge of your skin only slightly - before just tearing the fabric off with his very teeth. 

He takes a few seconds with his greedy gaze boring into yours, crazed. Canines bared glintingly around that tender lace, he just groans. 

Eyes rolling to the back of his head before spitting it out - and kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before. 

“H-hngh, Toru–” you’re moaning, your fingers half-cramping up with the way they were turning around his swollen cock. Swiveling around the heated bumps of his sensitive spots, the drag of your nails gently down his veins make him shiver. “Feels so- ah!”

And ah, for how much Gojo loved those saccharine sweet moans in your ear, how much he loved teasing you - he was hungry. 

Shoveling all the way into your gummy channel, until your puffy pussy lips were kissing his very knuckles, gushing out in spurts of wet slick down his wrist. Twirling those cold digits, so stark against how toasty you were inside. 

It made Gojo’s thickened tip twitch in your fingers, huffing out a humorless laugh when he was easily knocking against that bulbous bullseye of your g-spot. Pressing down. Hard. 

“Mhm—” he’s purring, nosing down the tender crook of your neck. “Tell me how it feels- hngh- gotta tell me- fuck oh fuck don’ squeeze me like that- ah-”

He’s just wrenching out the most dripping squelches with each rummaging pump into your melty cunt, your walls were just molding around his digits. Sucking him back in like you’re trying to milk out something delicious- fuck, how he wished this was his achy cock right now, instead.

Gojo’s biting down hard at that magical spot on your neck, sending shocks of electricity down your sluttily arched spine. “Can’t- hah- can’t take it anymore- shit- needa be inside you soon. Needa fill ya up soon.”

And he didn’t even have to tell you - you could feel it. 

Building up and up with every relentless such of his glistening fingers. Glossy. 

“Need to make you mine-” he’s gasping, heatedly. Tone cracking on almost a bawl, his hips are fucking into your hand like his little cocksleeve, up all the way from weepy head down to thwack into his pulsing base. Fingers bumping messily into his taut, twitchy balls - making Gojo’s mouth water. “Need to- hngh- need to make you cum! Please-”

Tears crinkling at the very ends of his doe eyes, after every single crash along your sweet spot. Thorough wet glides. “Please please please-”

And it’s whispered over and over like a mantra when you’re cumming - again and again, so hard that you didn’t even realize you’re reaching your high before your tight pussy clamps around his fingers. 

“Yeah- yeah yeah, cum all over my fingers.” He’s thrusting his fingers in and out so rabidly, hitting all your forbidden spots. Free hand pushing apart your quivering thighs even further, “Spread wide- heheh, yeahhh–”

Those sudden slurps sounded so thunderous in your ears, and your maw sags open deliriously in a higher-pitched ah! ah! ah! Grinding your hips down over and over in needy swivels, using him. Music to his ears, making his staggering erection just weep so dangerously- but he can’t cum. 

Won’t cum just yet. 

Not until he’s fucked you through each and every one of your peaks, not until your convulses are tapering out into nothing but tiny tingles. 

And then he’s dragging out his ruined fingers from your sodden cunt - out, out, out. Snapping delicate strings of the mess he’s made of your poor pussy, before pushing them through his lips rawly. 

“M-mmm-” he’s rumbling from the very depths of his broad chest, pecs heaving. And through your half-lucid gaze, you’re spying a silvery dribble of drool down the side of his lips. Moaning at the sweet, sweet taste. “Shit- shit, sweetheart-”

You can’t even react before he’s then spitting a steady stream of wispy saliva down to your sloppy hole, swirling it around with one of his thumbs. 

“Better let her know m’coming back for seconds later.”

You whine all brattily, your hips arching into the perfect buck upwards - which only makes him grin. “Heh- my greedy girl, if I waited one hundred years ya can wait a few seconds.”

It’s so admonishing - and Gojo has never told a bigger lie. 

Because he’s the one that’s so painfully impatient right now, angry cock spewing out a few more velvety waves of precum down your gleaming palm. A low string of profanity rips from his throat, and he’s just diving his hands around every inch of your body he could reach.

Deftly untangling those tedious ties at the back, “Damn these little- forgot how many ribbons I fuckin’- ordered-”

In split-seconds, you’re being flipped over with one fluid push of Gojo’s biceps, sinking your front into the royally soft mattress. You felt like you were in heaven.

“Toru–” you’re whirling your head over your shoulder to admire just how much his biceps flex. Twitching with each eager rip down your bodice. Shaky fingers tightening on the silken sheets, “H-hurry up-”

“Easy there, my love.”

It’s ragged, breathed hotly against your ear, and suddenly Gojo’s resting every bit of his body weight on top of yours to pin you down helplessly onto the bed. Holding your squirming hips captive onto one rough hand attached to them, “Arch jus’ a bite more- please- fuuuck like that yeah-”

He’s taking the opportunity to fling your wedding dress down easily, bunching it somewhere towards the corner of the bedroom - right alongside your bra and inner layers. 

You’re gasping - stunned. 

“Don’t l-look at me like that, I’ve had one hundred hah- years to practice this exact moment with my hand n’ imagination-” 

And then Gojo’s gasping, he’s snapping his eyes open, he’s heaving out the most whiny call of your name when you push your hips back in a wet slide against his painfully hard cock. 

Your folds smacking wetly against his shaft, dragging in a dripping trail along his veins - and shit, Gojo really underestimated how fucking hot you’d feel against his cock. How readily awaiting when his slender hips rut down in a furious push and pull. “This is long overdue.”

“Hey!” you jut your spit-sheen lower lip out when he’s rudely smacking away your hand from the clasp of your locket. “Wha’s that for?”

“Keep it on.” Gojo nips at your earlobe.

And then he’s spitting you open - he’s pushing in. 

Inch by fucking inch of his swelteringly hot cock being shovelled into your gooey cunt, stretching out your snug walls to their limits. Pulled taut. Barely giving an apologetic kiss to the side of your head before Gojo’s circling one big beefy arm around your hips, easily tilting your entire body upwards for him to surge his hips even deeper. 

He gasps, he shudders at the faintest of your wet clenches. “C’mon-c’mon c’mon c’mon- a-ah- you can take it please- please take it f’me.” 

How could you not?

Because every one of his tiny, shallow grinds just to fit in have your mouth dropping further and further open cockdrunkenly. 

“Please-” your hands fist at the plushy pillows, the headboards, craning behind at Gojo’s neck. “Fuck me h-harder, Toru- I can-”

“Ohhh- you play a hah- dangerous game.” He swipes away the stray hairs on your forehead, kissing at your sweat-slicked forehead. “My beautiful bride- my beautiful, beautiful bride - ah- almost makes me wanna m-make you more.”

Just that split-second of sultry shock is enough for Gojo to push in fully - all the way until your thighs sting with the sudden thwack! of his hefty, cum-filled balls, your folds kissing up against his thickened base.

He’s hissing when his achy, rounded tip recoils ever-so-slightly against the spongy mess of your cervix, hitting it relentlessly in harsh jackhammer. Spearheading his fat cock to massage up against all your sensitive spots in a more dizzying way than even his fingers could. 

“Wh-what do you m-mean-” They’re falling from your mouth as hastily as Gojo can pump you stuffed full of his cock. Not even easing into it, starting up a sloppy cadence. “-b-by–”

“Awww, don’ hngh- p-push yourself, my love–” he’s simpering out. But oh his hips were speaking a completely different language from how soothing your husband’s tone was, one hand curling deftly around your throat to reel you in even harsher in sudden swats against his ever-pushing hips. Twirling around the chain of your locket, “What I mean is…”

Both of your half-lidded gazes are downturned to where he feels for that tiny nudge at about halfway down your stomach. Drawing an imaginary line about halfway through, before splaying down all five digits. Hard. “-that m’gonna make ya a pretty momma as well as my pretty wife.”

This little confession is followed by a particularly hard slam! from Gojo’s end, and you dart your hand out to grasp desperately onto the wooden headboard. 

Crying out, “Is- is that even possible, Toru?”

But the only actual response that Gojo can give - that he thinks himself capable of giving right now, with how mind-numbingly your pretty pussy was milking any rationality out of him - is a breathless chuckle. His head throwing back with a whimper, brows knitting together. “I don’t know hah! Haven’t got a fuckin’ clue- but that doesn’t mean m’not gonna fucking try–”

And he was fucking you into the mattress just like it, well and fully intent on breeding your tight cunt. Jostling the locket at your chest with rough, reckless abandon. Every sodden drag down your slobbery walls having those dreams from a lifetime ago about your happily every after playing through his mind.

You, with your drooling pussy painted all white with his potent cum, making such a mess of him that he just has to do it all over again, of course. 

You, all round and glowing - full of him, his heir. 

You, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes - another, tinier set held delicately in your hands. His hair, and your smile. Everything that he’s ever wanted in life and death. 

Stupidly. Pussydrunkenly. 

“Oh oh-” Gojo’s groaning, the sudden bump of your fingers against the sensitive curve of his balls making him jolt back into his reality. His heavenly, heavenly reality. “Aww, have I b-been neglecting you, my love?”

No, you want to scream - but you can’t. 

Because he’s only hiking up a powerful thigh to pressurize his harrowing rams with even more power, and you could feel every flex and ripple of his washboard abs. The spatter of pearlescent beads of sweat setting in with fatigue. 

But Gojo wouldn’t listen in the first place, couldn’t even think of anything that didn’t stem from his achy cock pummeling into you. 

Messily, he’s swiping at those fingers of yours that were currently reaching for your angrily puffy clit, aching for more more more- 

Giving a mean little smack onto where your sensitive nub was drenched in all your sweetened juices, it sends bolts of electricity all over your body. Clinging your gummy walls around his girth so tight. 

“This what y-you wanted?” he rasps by your ear, drawing slow, determined circles on the very peak of your clit. And when that doesn’t have you crying out all prettily for him the way he wanted - Gojo just tugs. Unapologetically. “Tell me- ngh- tell me how it feels, fuck- can feel this cunt gettin’ so soaked-”

“Yes-” you’re sobbing out. Hips now aching with the burn of pushing back into his unrelenting hips - it hurts almost. The sting of his skin against you, the hard collision of his fat head against your cervix. But you want more. “Y-yes feels so good, Toru- need more hngh- need you t-to…”

“What?” he’s spitting. Wild. “Tell me, sweetheart- please- please-”

And, hell, Gojo Satoru wanted to hear so badly that he’s just slowing his hips down every so slightly to let you catch your breath. To answer. 

But what he was actually blessed with was another one of your long, drawn-out whines. Grumbling ever-so-slightly as you jolt your hips back with every one of the thorough swivels of his fingers on your clit. Toying. 

Fucking back harder than ever into his rock-hard dick, the locket just slams it’s cool branding onto the heated skin of your chest-

“Need you to f-fill me up-” you mutter wetly, nothing more than a few gurgles wrenched out when his clashing head French-kisses your g-spot. Drawing wet glides of his steamy precum down it. “-make me a hngh- m-momma, Toru-”

Oh, this might just be his third death ever. 

Because the bed creaks riotously with every one of his ragged rams, in a way that made you glad for the ever-present music of this town. 

Over and over.

“Yeah- shit, gonna make you a p-pretty momma-” he’s babbling away, a mile a minute. So sloppy that you’re barely able to understand what Gojo was saying. “Fill you- up- ngh- so they’ll look at you and see me. All me- all pretty and r-round- me me me- oh—”

Right now, Gojo didn’t give a fuck if his little dream was even possible. He didn’t give a fuck if his moans were turning into whimper, staggering thrusts trudging into the sloppiest of grinds. The neediest. 

Because right now you were cumming. 

That rapid throb of your clit increasing twofold when you’re finally plummeting into your high, wave after wave of pleasure that he fucks you through with heavy pound after pound. 

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, toes curling, flashes of white flitting behind your firmly shut eyes. Fuck, it felt so good. 

And your fingers clench hard around where they were still firmly stationed on the headboard to keep at least an ounce of your sanity. Intertwining with- Gojo’s when he slams his hand down hard enough that the entire bed shudders. 

Or maybe that was just him - because so was he. 

“F-finally-” Gojo’s hiccuping, angling his head just right to be able to catch your pretty lips in what could barely be considered a kiss. Just a sloppy suck of your tongue while he pumps you snugly full of sloshing loads of his cum. “Wan’ed this for- so long- finally hngh- consummate- you- most beautiful ah momma-”

His whines were nonsensical at this point, only growing more and more so with each velvety ribbon of cum being poured around into your tight pussy. You could feel it swashing about your soft walls with every one of your hard, convulsing clenches, painting your insides over and over again in a second, sticky skin of his seed. 

“Yeah- fuck fuck fuck, yeah Toru- hah- m-more-”

And just when Gojo thought the almost-painful clenches of his heavy balls were coming to a close, just when he thought his thick streams of voluminous cum were stretching out into thinner wisps - you have to go and say those syrupy sweet words. 

Fuck. 

He’s gasping, locking his finger with yours even harder on the headboard, “Gonna- ngh- gonna be the death of me I s-swear–”

Oh, and then you looked at him with that fucked-out smile of yours. A sight he’s gifted to see. Humming, “In life and in death, r-remember?”

Bang! 

The headboard crashes down onto the floor. Your back is hitting the now utterly drenched sheet below you before the realization hits you. 

In nothing but a split-second, Gojo pulls out his dangerously twitching cock to manhandle you flatly onto your back. Swiftly, he throws your legs over the curvaceous deltoids of his sculpted shoulder, easily bending you down, down, down into half.

Into the meanest mating press possible.

Dredges of thick, hot cum just ooze down your sopping slit, spreading in a milky circle underneath you. And slobbering down Gojo’s swollen hilt as soon as he plugs himself back in - immediately.

The very divot at the end of his cock quivering - for only a split-second before bursting out in streams of more and more cum. Overflowing. Overspilling out of you.

And he can’t help but glide an open palm over that tiny inflation beginning to form where he’d drawn a line just earlier. One hand pressing down on it hard, the other tweaking at your clit to make your walls clench. 

“Oh f-fuck yeah–” Gojo stutters at the glossy coating of his own seed all around him. Reveling in the toasty feeling again and again until his poor, overworked cock can only sputter out wispy strings of nothing. Shooting blanks. “Gonna breed ya- make ya all round and and- ngh full until you c-can’t take anymore. Until we hahh- have that happy ending y-you wanted.”

You mewl when he’s licking away those glistening tears rolling down your cheeks, “-happy ending w-we wanted hngh- Toru–”

“Yeah-” he chuckles. Pecking at your lips with that salty sweet taste on his tongue, “We wanted. It’s why I didn’t reincarnate like you, my love, unfinished hngh- business here s’to spend a long, long and happy marriage with you, y’know?”

You bat your lashes in sweet disbelief, “That’s- that’s mine, too.”

Ah, he reels you in even closer into his arms. Snug. Ever-loving. Seemingly like he’d never let you go ever again - couldn’t bear to. 

He nuzzles against that now-open locket, eyes peering down at those bleary paintings of you two, as loving as if they were taken just today. And in the back of his fried mind, he makes a note to take newer photos for later. Fingers tracing their familiar pathway to press down on the outer edges of the metal - in only the way he knew how, in the way that you should have been taught all those years ago, but was never able to. 

“Then-” His eyes light up as they always did whenever it came to you, when the tiny mechanisms on the locket open up to reveal a delicate, gorgeous ring. Strangely matching his own. Gojo doesn’t think he’s done anything easier in his life when he slides that ring onto your finger, fitting so perfectly. Not even when he was waiting for you, not even when he’d taken care of Naoya in a way that left his coat spattered and stained with red. “-we’re both lucky.”

It’s only after a few soft, lingering kisses that Gojo finally pulls away - like it hurt to.

And it did, sensitive shockwaves erupting down his overwhelmed length. But none of that shows above his drunken grin when Gojo’s shuffling down the bed, all the way until his hot breath was puffing up feverishly against your sloppy cunt. 

Messy. Drooling.

Making such an utter mess on his tongue when he lets it loll out, swiping up the gushing creamy dredges with a long lick. It was so filthy, dribbling down the sides of his mouth, onto his pinkish tongue-

Just a tease for more. 

“Because I keep my promises, my wife.” his murmur wraps all around your thrumming clit. Tongue swirling a milky gloss all over his pert, raw lips. Only wanting more. Waiting. “In life and in death.”

A/N. THIS- THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE N’ GOT ME IN MY FEELSSSS. Hope y’all have a lovely lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[nichmeddar]

yuki tsunoda

WE WERE BOTH YOUNG WHEN I FIRST SAW YOU - Yuki Tsunoda.

pairing: yuki tsunoda x female kpop idol / best friend reader.

summary: yuki and reader are friends since ever, when she in mónaco to attend an award show and they reunite the feelings he secretly has for her do nothing but grow.

warnings: none. ignore the typos please im too lazy to correct them, english is not my first language.

a/n: honored to join the yuki tsunoda love club. thank you for the love the little alex albon smau is having jsjfjdj is overwhelming (in a good way). this is not my best work but I'm happy with the results anyway❤

ynupdates just posted.

liked by user63, ynhq, user12 and others.

ynupdates: in her most recent Instagram Live YN confirms she is a very close friend of Formula 1 driver Yuki Tsunoda.

"It started in kindergarten, our mums basically forced us to be friends. They know eachother since college so we had no choice but to keep the legacy alive".

yourusername just posted.

liked by ynupdates, ynhq, aespa_official and 123k others.

yourusername: awards season is coming to an end🥹, thank you for your love and support. mónaco see you soon for the final round 😘🤍

view all the comments...

user1: totally forgot about MAMAs taking place in monaco, can someone explain??

user2: they started doing this last year, the show was in the US for some reason idk

user3: global expansion they said. hate this whole concept of doing the sow outside asia just for validation

user4: atp im here for the red carpet looks and performances lol

ynhq: YUKIYN REUNION

❤️ liked by yourusername

yourusername just posted.

liked by yukitsunoda0511, ynupdates and 78456 others.

yourusername: excited about being in such a wonderful place for the first time 🤍 thanks to my tour guy 🤗

user5: yuki so boyfriend

user6: monaco looks so good on you 😍

user7: stay there forever it suits you so much 😍

yukitsunoda0511: "tour guy"?, it's "my best friend the most handsome tour guy on earth" to you 😐

user8: who is this beautiful woman and why's yuki here

user9: she's a kpop idol and yuki's best friend, they have known each other for life basically

yukitsunoda0511 just posted.

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, alex_albon and 235876 others.

yukitsunoda0511: best friend duties i guess 🙄

view all the comments...

user10: the friendship i deserve

user11: they're so cute, just kiss eachother rn

yourusername: shut up you love it

user12: "i guess🙄" keep fighting my man, your time will come

user13: you guys think he's going to the MAMAs to watch her perform??

user14: he's totally going, with his own lightstick and stuff.

motorsportsgossip just posted.

liked by frascisca.cgomes, ynupdates, ynyukiiii and others.

motorsportsgossip: Formula 1 Driver Yuki Tsunoda spotted at the MAMA Awards Night 1 in Mónaco.

His close friend YN of Aespa performs tonight.

user14: what the hell is a MAMA Award?

user15: hope they're dating idc

user16: cisca on the likes?? 😭

yukitsunoda0511 instagram story.

story's replies:

francisca.cgomes: pierre and I were wondering....

francisca.cgomes: ARE YOU STUPID?

yukitsunoda0511: unprovoked???

yukitsunoda0511: what did I do now?

francisca.cgomes: you have this WOMAN in front of you, how are you just best friends

yukitsunoda0511: not this again, I'm not planning to tell her. this is how it's has to be.

francisca.cgomes: thank you, question answered

yourusername: damn I look good 😍

yukitsunoda0511: always so humble ❤

yourusername: thank you for being there tho, I've been so tired these few days but having you there with me gave me an energy burst ❤

yukitsunoda0511: always ❤

yourusername just posted.

liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, aespa_official and others.

yourusername: monaco, you're unreal ✨ thank you thank you, i'm so happy to be here 🖤 (part 2 of this post with the performance outfits coming up🤭)

view all the comments...

user17: stunning

francisca.cgomes: what a beauty!

❤ liked by yourusername

yourusername: thank you kika!

user18: yuki if you don't make a move...

yukitsunoda0511 just posted.

liked by yourusername, ynupdates, pierregasly and 93474 others.

yukitsunoda0511: first time at the MAMAs, where amazing and promising asian artists like @yourusername can show the world what they're made of. congratulations my dear, you killed it ♥️🔥

view all the comments...

user19: yuki tsunoda the best friend that you are!!

user20: MY DEAR, I'm not okay leave me alone

-texts between yuki and pierre

-texts between you and yuki.

yukitsunoda0511 just posted.

liked by frascisca.cgomes, alex_albon, yourusername

yukitsunoda0511: mónaco you always offer me the best views...🌙❤

view all the comments...

user21: WAIT

user22: is this a soft launch??

user23: if this is not ⭐HER⭐ I don't want it.

yourusername just posted.

liked by aespa_official, yukitsunoda0511, francisca.cgomes and others.

yourusername: guess i really like it here, mónaco you're magical 💙

view all the comments...

user24: stop playing with our feelings and confirm you're eating each other

user25: girl-- 😭

user26: cuties

motosportsgossip just posted.

liked by user145, user28, use194 and others.

motosportsgossip: Formula 1 Driver Yuki Tsunoda spotted KISSING a young woman around Mónaco.

view all the comments...

username: IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS???

username: GOD finally yuki isn't bitchless anymore🙏

-texts between yuki and you.

yukitsunoda0511 just posted.

liked by alex_albon, pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, yourusername and others.

yukitsunoda0511: is it official now, @.yourusername? it feels amazing to call you mine.

view all the comments..

user27: FUCKING FINALLY

user28: we love besties to lovers!!

pierregasly: about damn time my friend

yourusername just posted.

liked by yukitsunoda0511, francisca.cgomes, aespa_official and others.

yourusername: I don't know how it gets better than this💙 (yes @.yukitsunoda0511, it's official now)

view all the comments...

user29: i can already imagine her outfits on race weekends

user30: God i've been waiting for this HOW MUCH TIME

francisca.cgomes: yyyayyy congratulations

yukitsunoda0511: I love you 💙

yourusername: to the moon and back❤

[feedback it's always appreciated❤- 14/01/25)