#but i wanted to draw this since it was stuck in my head for a few weeks

[beomiracles]

「 PRETTY PRINCESS 」 part IX ─ 'do you trust me?'

SYNOPSIS taking a wrong turn in the 4th dimension Beomgyu finds himself two centuries behind his own with no way back, though meeting a pretty princess like you, does not seem so wrong.

pairings timetraveler beomgyu x princess female!reader warnings sex but it's soft, and like mildly described if you get me. oral (f. rec), vaginal penetration, praise, loss of virginity, inexperienced reader, generally just soft sex.

#serene adds ✎... I promise the next chapter will contain actual plot and be slightly longer but my motivation for this series has been ass (for some reason???) and I realised that it's been practically a month since I last updated...sorry >.< hope some smut will make it up !! ↳ chapter index

PREVIOUS CHAPTER 🩰 NEXT CHAPTER (coming soon)

That night you followed Beomgyu to his bedchambers. You weren’t quite sure of why but his warm hand in yours made it hard to let go. When the large doors close behind you, Beomgyu quickly pins you to the wall. 

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks and you nod, wondering why he even bothered to ask as your answer would remain the same a thousand times over. He smiles as his hand cups your cheek, your eyes follow his movement before flickering back up to his face. 

Drawing in a short breath when his lips find yours, eyes fluttering closed as your arms wrap around his neck. Kissing Beomgyu felt more intimate than any words ever spoken, and you were sure he felt the same as his other hand pulled you closer.  

Lips moving together in a way of a thousand unspoken words, only breaking apart for you to swallow a short breath of air before crashing together once more. When his warm tongue pushes past your lips, your stomach tingles in an unfamiliar way. 

Beomgyu moved with so much desire and determination — yet it felt almost as if he held back. His longing hands stayed by your hair and face, his kisses were passionate but tentative, almost hesitant. And in the dim light of the candles, you decided to take action instead. 

Somewhat trembling hands move from his neck to his chest, taking your time to actually feel him. It went without saying that Beomgyu was attractive, and as the tips of your fingers grazed his toned chest, you only confirmed any previous assumptions. 

As your fingers begin to twist at the buttons of his dress shirt, he suddenly pulls away from the kiss. With both your hands in one of his own, he halters your ministrations on his garments. “Wait, princess..”, his breath is heavy and his voice raspy, it added to the tingling sensation in your stomach. 

A few strands of his hair stuck to his forehead, glued down by the thin layer of sweat glistening on his face. His pretty pink lips plump and wet from being entangled with your own. You were mesmerized by him, did he not feel the same? Was that why he stopped you? 

“What’s wrong, did I…did I do something?” you wonder, lips forming into a slight pout as your brows draw together. You had never kissed someone before tonight, perhaps there were certain rules to intimacy; rules you had yet to be made aware of. Beomgyu shakes his head, “fuck no, you’re amazing, princess”, he breathes, only adding fire to your already thumping heart.  

His other hand cups your cheek as his thumb grazes your bottom lip. “I just — I don’t know if it’s right”, he mumbles and your frown deepens. “What?” you whisper, disbelief evident in your voice. Did he not want this? You thought he did. 

“If you don’t want to-” “No, I do”, Beomgyu quickly interrupts your train of thought. “Fuck I want this more than anything”, he groans, the hand around your own pulling you closer. He confused you, his actions did little to match the words spilling from his mouth. 

“It’s just, this is supposed to be special for you”, suddenly he loosens the grip on your hands as he lets his own fall to his side. “What I’m tryna say is, this isn’t something you do with just anyone, princess”. 

As you search his face for any clues, you find nothing. Beomgyu looked sincere as ever, a faint smile ghosting on his lips as his hand ran gently through your hair. Sometimes you thought he was really daft. 

Raising yourself to your toes, your now free hands pull him down by his shirt as you press your lips against his once more. At first he remains frozen, lips unmoving against your own, and for a split second your sudden confidence falters. Though as soon as his arm wraps around your waist, everything is forgotten about once more. 

This time, you’re the first to pull away; and as your eyes find his, you know that this is right. “Who says you’re just anyone?”. In the dim glow of the candles, you could’ve sworn you saw the way Beomgyu’s face flushed with color. 

“You sure ‘bout this, princess?” he whispers as his lips hover over yours. “Certain”. His signature smirk finds its way back onto his lips as he presses them against your own in a soft kiss. Large hands find the back of your thighs and before you know it he’s got you in his arms. Letting out a surprised yelp, you cling onto him as Beomgyu carries you over to his bed, gently placing you down on it. 

His soft lips press feathery kisses along your jawline and down to where your neck meets your collarbone. The sensation is foreign to you and you can’t help but feel lost on his touch. Fingers fiddling with the strings of your corset, Beomgyu looks up from your chest, “this okay?” You nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and he grins. With the swift movement of his fingers, your corset is loosened around your waist as he gently pulls it off. 

When his tender hands slide the dress of your shoulders your eyes meet his, one of your hands comes up to rest on his bicep and he immediately halters his movements. Chewing on your bottom lip as your fingers travel to his soft hair, “I’ve never…I’ve never done this before”, you admit, your voice barely above a whisper but Beomgyu catches your every word. 

He’s quiet for a moment as his fingers rub small circles on your hip, “it’s like dancing”, he then muses and you frown, what a strange parallel. “Since it’s your first time, I’ll lead”, he grins and you smile as you nod, “okay”. Leaning in to press his lips against your own he whispers, “tell me to stop and I will”. You didn’t want him to stop, not now, not ever. You trusted Beomgyu, with him by your side you thought you could do almost anything. 

Your whole life you had been told that you were beautiful, whether it had been from suitors or servants, the phrase was far from foreign to you — but Beomgyu didn’t need words, he showed you. With every kiss, every breath against your burning skin, he made you feel beautiful, inside out. 

So when his fingers softly tug at your dress; you let him pull it down – because you trust him. No words are needed as his hands find the soft skin of your waist, lips grazing along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts, leaving your skin tingling in his wake. When he reaches your stomach he pauses, glancing toward you, a searching look on his face  as his eyes find yours. Breath hitching in your throat; you give him a small nod and he grins. 

You hadn’t known what to expect on your first night, it wasn’t like anyone had prepared you for it, things like these were prohibited topics of discussion. More so, you certainly hadn’t expected for your first night to be spent with Beomgyu — but when his head dips in between your legs, you realize that you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

His soft lips moved in the same tender and lust filled manner as they had done so many times before that night, except he wasn’t kissing your lips anymore. Never in your life had you thought that a single course of action would allow you to feel such a surge of pleasure. His soft hair caresses your inner thighs and your fingers find a few locks to grab on to. 

The soft groan emitting from Beomgyu sends vibrations flooding between your legs and your lips part in a moan. His hands caress your sides, your stomach, your thighs, setting your skin ablaze under his touch. It wasn’t like you hadn’t pleasured yourself before, curious about your own body as your fingers had slipped under your nightgown —  but this was different, Beomgyu made you feel different, a different kind of pleasure. 

Tongue pressing up against that small bundle of nerves that always makes your face scrunch up in ecstasy as soft sounds of relief leave your lips. It was like he knew exactly when and where to touch and you wondered if you’d ever be able to get enough. A familiar knot builds in your stomach, the grip on his silky hair growing tighter as you try your best to keep your legs from trembling. 

Beomgyu’s soft kisses don't falter, if anything they grow in intensity when you pleadingly tug at the ends of his hair. “I got you, princess” His quiet whisper of reassurance against your warm skin causes the rising feeling to break as your climax hits. Muffled moans and cries of pleasure leave your swollen lips, you almost felt like you were floating — at least your mind was. 

Gentle hands caress your trembling thighs as Beomgyu adorns the blissful state of your body, his lips and chin glistening in the gentle glow of the candles. Heat rises on your cheeks, feeling as if you had exposed yourself fully to him; now left in a vulnerable state as your eyes shyly meet his. “I…I uhm”, you stammer for words, not knowing how to face him your eyes drift to focus on anything else but him. 

Beomgyu’s fingers meet your chin as he quietly turns your attention back to where he wanted it, to him. “You look so pretty”, he murmurs, eyes glazed with desire as he beholds the coy expression on your flushed face. “The prettiest princess I’ve ever seen”. 

“Am I to suppose that you’ve seen plenty of princesses then?” you blurt, feeling rather embarrassed over your sudden straightforwardness. Beomgyu grins, his lips hovering above yours, warm breath fanning your face, “I’ve seen enough to know when I come across a beautiful one”. 

You couldn’t help but smile, “why, aren’t you a smooth talker”. Soft lips press against your own, if only for a moment before he pulls back with a smirk, “I do try”, he breathes before reattaching your lips once more. 

This time, he doesn’t stop your fingers from twisting the buttons open on his shirt. Pushing the white garment off his shoulders, your hands eagerly explore the outline of his chest. To say that you had been longing to do so, was an understatement. Beomgyu was truly mesmerizing, you had thought so since the very first time you saw him, back then he had been nothing more but a mere stranger who had somehow ended up at your balcony. Perhaps it was fate? Something you had never dared believe in, now seemed so real. 

Then you remember, a drop of faith. Was this the faith you needed? The faith you and Beomgyu held for each other. Maybe it was. Beomgyu’s tender lips on your neck brings you back to the present as his hands move to rest on your hips. “Do you trust me, princess?” his voice is muffled against the sweaty skin of your neck. Hips pressed against your own, the outline of something hard pushing up against your thigh. Arms wrapping around his neck, you nod, “more than anything”. 

That night Beomgyu made you feel truly beautiful. From the feathery light kisses he pressed against your lips, your neck and your breasts, to the way his body moved so easily against your own. How he gently eased himself inside of you, his soft whispers of praise and reassurance. “This okay, princess?” he murmurs as the feeling of him, filling you, overtook all your senses. 

“You’re doing so good”, he groans against your lips as one of his hands moves your leg to wrap around his waist; making him slide even further inside of you, drawing lewd sounds you never even knew you could make. 

Fingers intertwining against the soft mattress as the unspoken words of love fill the room. You never wanted the night to end, you wanted to forever stay wrapped in Beomgyu’s safe embrace. You wanted to always fall asleep molded against his body as he tucks your hair behind your ear, feel his soft breathing against your back, inhale nothing but his addicting scent. 

In that moment, as your sweaty bodies lay entangled in the soft sheets of his bed, you realized that this is exactly how you were supposed to feel. This was love. 

The next morning came all too soon, as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains of Beomgyu’s bedchamber, you awoke with a small groan. Upon turning around and coming face to face with the most endearing sight you had ever witnessed, you immediately smiled.

You had always thought Beomgyu to be a pretty sleeper, and as the gentle glow of sun caressed his smooth skin, ruffled hair falling in uneven portions across his face, pink rosy lips formed into a slightly pout, you realized that he wasn’t just a pretty sleeper, he was a beautiful one. 

Brushing a strand of hair from his face, your stomach flutters at the thought of last night. It had been the most special night of your life, you could only hope that he had felt the same. The chirping of birds outside reminds you that you have duties to attend to for the day, yet you found it hard to remove yourself from the warm embrace that was Beomgyu. Perhaps a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. 

You’re in the midst of studying his sleeping face, fingers gently tracing the outline of his lips when his eyes flutter open. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything as he looks at you dreamingly, his own hand moves from your waist to your face as he mimics the soft movements of your fingers. 

Desperately, you wished for things to stay like this, blissful and unspoilt by the world outside. But you knew that such a thing was impossible. This was only a fragment of what you could have, should the circumstances in which you and Beomgyu exist in the same universe be different. The thought pained you and you were certain he could tell from the way his brows drew together in a frown. 

“What’s that pretty mind of yours thinkin’ ‘bout?” He wonders and you shake your head, chewing on your bottom lip gently. “Just…us.” Propping himself up on one of his arms, Beomgyu remains unblinking as he tilts his head ever so slightly, “in a good or bad way?” You roll your eyes as a small grin forms on your lips, “there’s no bad us.” “Well thank god for that”, Beomgyu gives a dramatic sigh and you refuse a small giggle. 

No matter what happened, you knew that you would be fine as long as you had him by your side. But that was exactly the thing — how much longer would you have Beomgyu? For the longest time the unknown had been what had scared you the most; but with your future clear as glass, you wanted nothing more but to be made unaware of everything again. Most of all you wanted to be made unaware of the fact that your time with Beomgyu was limited, that it would one day come to an end. 

“Seriously, princess” Beomgyu’s soft voice leads your gaze back to him, “what’s bothering you?” How did you tell him that he was what was wrong, that it was all his fault. His fault for stumbling into your world like that, for making you forget about everything, for making you feel loved and safe, for making you feel like without him, there would be no tomorrow. 

“Just…thinking about how I ought to miss you today” You could never tell him. Beomgyu grins as he pulls you closer to his naked chest, “I must’ve left quite the impression then.” “You’re quite full of yourself, you know that?” you mutter against his neck, feeling the way his chest moves as he chuckles. “Well someone’s gotta be”, he murmurs before pressing his lips against yours. The small action instantly floods your mind with memories of the previous night. 

Your arms move to wrap around his neck as he hums softly against your lips, arm snaking around your thigh to lift it over his waist. “Anyone ever tell you that you look fuckin’ gorgeous in the mornings?” he groans as your fingers tug at the ends of his hair. “Just you”, you whisper and Beomgyu smirks. 

If Beomgyu was bound to one day turn into a memory — you would be sure to make him a cherished one. 

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#txt #txt fanfic #txt post #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu smut #beomgyu series #beomgyu post #txt beomgyu #pretty princess beomiracles #beomiracles ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

Thinking about Terapagos' beef with Amethio tonight

#this has honest to god been stuck in my head since watching the ep SDKJFSKJDFNS #(in the event Amethio somehow becomes part of the Rising Volt Tacklers but Terapagos still wants to bite his arm off /lh /insane) #trying to figure out how to draw these two properly since I only doodled them last time hehe #I love they - my beloved children 🤲🥺💖💖💖💖💖 #definitely gotta draw Dot and Roy sometime as well 👀👀👀 #pokemon horizons #anipoke #pokeani #amethio #amethio pokemon #explorer amethio #liko #liko pokemon #trainer liko #terapagos #pokemon fanart #pokemon art #fluff draws !!!

[fallowfield]

he can be girls

#seed #preeny has to repeat 6th grade #phtr6g #preeny #ally phtr6g #ally preeny has to repeat 6th grade #ally (phtr6g) #ally (preeny has to repeat 6th grade) #vallytine of vertex-plains #im in love with this comic and the quote 'i can be girls' has been stuck in my head since i read all of it so far in one sitting #also just felt like doin some silly furry art. For Me. and i thought hey why not also draw a Really Fun Design #eyestrain #flashing #<- furry art will also be posted once i deem it finished enough to be posted. i just wanted to experiment w my style more #(mostly bc it might mean a big stylistic change to a project i've been working on but i'm trying not to do the art before the story) #(just trying to solidify designs more than i am trying to make anything super polished)

[harbingersecho]

he just wanted directions damn

#vampire the masquerade #vampire the masquerade bloodlines #clan malkavian #malkavian #vtmb #vtmb fledgling #vtm art #digital art #vtm #art #mine #*23 #darcy the viper daisy #i love the malkavian fledgling. he's borderline incoherent <3 #i randomly get 'cemetary runoff congealing at the door' stuck in my head from time to time n it makes me wanna draw vtm lol #i love the expressions n animations in vtmb esp with the retextures so i wanted to imagine how viper daisy would look to others in game #the color mixing in csp 2 is amazing btw. i bit the bullet and bought it since it was only 12 euros to upgrade

[coffiicorgii]

They didn’t lie, that tower can really pizza.

Aka I finally managed to save up enough to get pizza tower and I’ve been having so much fun with it, so I figured I’d try drawing Peppino! :D

#my art #peppino spaghetti #pizza tower #pizza tower peppino #pizza tower gustavo #gustavo pizza tower #anxious Italian man is now a character type I enjoy… I have two of them so far :] #anxious Italians in question being Luigi and Peppino lol #ALSO I’ve been listening to the soundtrack since the game came out I’m so glad I can finally play it #it’s sooo much fun :’D #I’ve only been able to clear two floors so far tho. my wrists have been killing me lately #lap 2 theme has been stuck in my head all day today actually #Peppino is genuinely a delight to draw #I want to do more goofy expressions again! been a while since I’ve done those so Peppino is perfect for me to draw :D

[raylex]

I love my lima bean husband

#this lil version of him was so cute I can't believe I haven't brought him up yet HE'S ADORABLE #also the hybrids song has been stuck in my head since the show came out... lmAO #self ship #💜☀️ray of sunshine☀️💜 #mine #(mia if you see this I did get your ask you sent me a while back about him and I wanted to DRAW A RESPONSE but I am going thru ARTBLOCK but #-I promise I DID SEE IT!! and I will respond with a drawing!! at some point!)

[houndfaker]

your name ~real~

#p3 #p3p #p3wm #femc #yukari takeba #kotone shiomi #hamuko arisato #minako arisato #quinn drawings #quinn moment #weird masquerade quotes that make you want to put your head through the fucking wall #literally this singular quote has stuck in my mind since i first watched like yayyy lets highlight yukaris sense of helplessness #her frustration in being surrounded by people that can do things without half the trouble she has to put herself through #KOTONE BEING THE FUCKING PERSON SHE SAYS THIS TO NO LESS. FUCKING #AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURGH

[todayisafridaynight]

alice

heart ver under the cut inspo’d by the rgg card deck

#spoilers #y7 spoilers #rgg #ryu ga gotoku #ryu ga gotoku 7 #yakuza series #yakuza 7 #yakuza like a dragon #ryo aoki #ichiban kasuga #snap sketches #i want to throw these in a fire but since they are digital drawings i Cannot #redid the first one cause i didnt like it but Once More idk how i feel bout the final vers #oh well. Oh Well #alice of human sacrifice HAS been stuck in my head for at least two weeks tysm for asking #i was gonna do all four but i hardly like these so #ok bye ill try to think of something better tomorrow. or another day idk depends on when my brain works #lets face it i'll prob draw something tomorrow

[chiropteracupola]

the wind and sea do follow thee /

and all the ledges calling thee...

#em draws stuff #treasure island #squire trelawney #doctor livesey #selkie au #it's been long and long but I've had these two on the brain lately #and because my current fic is un-illustratable for several reasons I decided to pop back over to an old favorite #'peter kagan and the wind' has been my song for calming down lately and it's a very similar vibe to what I want out of the selkie au #it has actually been eight months since I've drawn trelawney and I've decided to change up his design after years and years #liking the new shapes (which I can actually draw well I think) #specifically right where his neck and shoulder meet - it's closer to how he's built in my head than I've ever captured before #and I've been liking the more defined pockmarks that I do on alan so I've decided to bring those over #I'd always intended for some similar stuff texture-wise on trelawney but I wasn't being very confident in it so it was difficult to see #but in the end this is just me splashing all manner of things that I like for these two into one drawing #good saturated purples and my best attempt at those mignola-esque gravestones and a try at capturing how tom harpernovakaine writes them... #this whole thing went through many moments of looking unsalvageable but in the end it is probably one of my best drawings of them #I have a very early livesey drawing stuck to the back of the ol' ipad so it's really cool to hold that up and compare how far I've come #it's been an interesting three years and I think I'm a much more confident artist now!

[taylordoesdraw]

✨under the stars✨

#digital art #clip studio paint #my art #fanart #artists on tumblr #original character #clip studio art #oc #oc x oc #oc ship #ingrid #heskur #not really feeling my art style lately ugh #but i wanted to draw this since it was stuck in my head for a few weeks

[skeletalheartattack]

Hey, you are awesome and so easy to love. You like Alucard? You like bones? Top tier person right there. Please be happy, and have a very good day 💀💜

thank you that's very sweet of you to say :)

#ask #anon #boe #boe tai marrow #my art #my character #sorry when i saw your ask the words ''easy to love'' stuck out in my brain like the image above #and i wanted to draw it since i thought itd be silly #i almost drew him with a really small body but i thought he was just funny as the head #also based this sketch off an old quick sketch i did a long while back #anyway thank you for the ask :) i do really appreciate the kind words

[raeathnos]

.

#so Sky-Shifter is my sona and has been since I was 12 #so you know for 20 ducking years and that’s never changing #but about two years ago I started working on the idea for an actual furry fursona #I’ve kinda had conflicted feelings about whether I wanted them to be another sona or just another character #cause I love Sky and she’s perfect #but idk I really want to have like an actual sparkledog fursona too #been looking on da and hit with so much inspiration again #I have a weekend off for once and aside from running to dunkin and the bookstore I’m free #so I’m thinking I’m diving in with finalizing her design today #I was looking at like rave clothing and I have so much inspiration and I’m like 90% sure I know what I want her outfit to look like #she’s gonna have a feral form too and I kinda have an idea for markings and stuff #also stuck on a name #anyways I guess she’s technically a sparklegloom #she’s a canine/fox-sort of thing with a skull for a head #I think she’s mostly black with a striped tail and colorful tipped ears and colorful markings #can’t decide if I want her to be black/neon pink or black/neon turquoise #going with a black/neon pink/neon orange with a bit of neon turquoise for her outfit colors #debating about names still but kinda leaning towards like Jinx or Hex #she a witchy raver #I’m excited to draw her c: #been trying to draw more lately and it’s been going good #trying to force myself out of my comfort zone which has worked- I needed a change of pace #also trying embrace the whole ‘I am cringe but I am free’ thing XD

[mellythedork]

gotta love that feeling of wanting to make fan things for things and then never actually making the things

#this is about bakugan #and beywheelz/raiderz #everything's still stuck in my head #but it's such a mix of wanting to interact with people #and knowing i could be totally embarrassed by all my completely self-indulgent stories #i totally love being socially awkward #also i'm pretty sure this is the first original post i've made in maybe a couple years? #i think since the fruits basket anime reboot was in season 1.... #welp #anyway i guess i'll get there eventually. maybe. #i at least wanna draw some of my ocs... #my children deserve art

[ike-fan-number-one]

#ena shinonome #im procrastinating #so #for the first time in my life I considered drawing ‼️ #(For the first time since I was 12 atleast) 😭 #Its supposed to be Ena Shinonome #But she's like cute #and in my brain it looked like. better. #so I just kinda gave myself the cringe of my life #and here we are #please send help #I want to learn how to draw #in order to put on paper what stays stuck in my head #I am not giving up 💯💯 #(srry for the bad english) #TRADITIONAL DRAWING (¿???)

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 ❞

❝ I CAN'T BREATHE WITHOUT YOU, BUT I HAVE TO... ❞

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader (canon / multi au)

✧ summary: "would we love each other in every life?" it's the question you asked satoru the night before his battle, and he replied that, of course you would. but did that promise create a curse -- or were you both always cursed to begin with when it came to love?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, jjk manga spoilers (236 spoilers), multiple lives, assassin!reader x duke!gojo, actor!gojo x singer!reader, prince!gojo x knight!reader, model!gojo x photographer!reader, oral (f!receiving) in a car, semi-public, making out in public, pantyhose ripping, canon compliant except towards the end, angsty, but also bittersweet / implied happy ending

✧ wc: 6,589

“Do you think we would be together in another life?” you ask, not thinking much of the question, as your fingers draw lazy circles against his bare chest, your head resting right between his shoulder and chest. 

Satoru chuckles, vibration against your skin, “Of course we would, sweetheart,” his arms curl around you, tugging you higher, as he gazes up at you, “you think I could live any lifetime without you?” He murmurs, his lips finding yours, “I know we’d find each other, time and time again,” 

“How do you know?” your fingers brush against his cheek, shaking as he presses his cheek into your palm, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“Because, I love you,” he kisses you again, sweet lips gliding against yours, his breath warming your lips as he parts. 

“You did say love is a curse,” you give a small smile, and he presses his forehead to yours. 

“Then I’d want you to curse me — in every life.” 

“I swear on my life,” you press the dagger to his throat, blade digging into his formerly  perfect porcelain skin, drawing scarlet to the surface, “I’ll kill you, Satoru Gojo,” 

“I’m flattered to be a target of the infamous blueblood assassin,” his cerulean eyes glinted like stars in the candlelight, flames flickering across his eyes like burning comets, “but I didn’t think you would announce yourself as you did — what if I called for my guards?” 

You scoff, fingers flexing against the hilt of your dagger, “Then you would be dead before you uttered even a single sound and do you think I left your guards to chance? All of that schooling to be a duke and you haven’t learned a single thing have you?” 

“And what have I done to end up as your target?” he hums — as you bit back a sigh stuck in your throat — you preferred your marks to be much less chatty, but all he had was his mouth you supposed, “you only target the rich and the corrupt — and while I may fit the former, I do not fit the latter,” 

“You’re certainly sure of yourself,” and he’s unfazed by your reply, as his eyes wander the only thing visible of your expression — your eyes. 

“Since you have not stated my crime, I can only assume that I’ve committed none, and the infamous assassin whose morals could not be compromised have been,” and your grip wavers a moment, and he takes advantage of your hesitance to disarm you, and pin you to a nearby chaise all before the clatter of your blade hitting the marble floor, “and now what’s an assassin’s price who has done all of this for no reward?” 

“How do you know I’ve done this for no reward?” you squirm in his grip, but it’s ironclad, and you know all too well he could have broken from your grasp at any point, but he had chosen not to — your heartbeat roars in your ears as one question repeats again and again stuck between  beats — why? “I very well may have taken a payment you don’t know of — you act as if you know of me,” 

“Because I do,” the heir replies with a simple smile, “I have followed your work for a long time, and I found myself fascinated with what you do — and why you do it,” 

“Honored to have caught your attention,” you say in mock reverence, your arm beginning to ache, “now do you plan to call your guards?” 

“Didn’t know you were so eager to die,” he stares still, as you turn your head away from his piercing gaze, “shouldn’t you keep your eyes on your target or now your captor?” 

“Do you ever shut up?” You mumble as you flinch as you squirm under his grip, sleeve riding up ever so slightly — and then he sees it. His eyes narrow, as his hand grasps at your wrist now, “hey! Don’t—“ 

In a moment his fingers nearly rip the fabric of your tunic to tug your sleeve up —  angry red cuts and purple bruises litter your arm. Your breath catches as his eyes stare for several moments before sliding back to you — no longer a placid pool but a raging ocean. 

“Who did this to you?” he says quietly, and you’re blinking, nearly slack jawed, as you try to rip your arms away, but he won’t let you, “who is it? Is it the same person who told you to kill me?” 

“Stop—“ 

“Is it the same person who’s taken someone important to you?” and you grit your teeth in silence, “is it the little orphan you adopted? Yuji?” 

And your eyes snap to his, “How do you know this? Who are you?” 

His lips curl,  “You told me yourself, I’m Satoru Gojo,” and his fingers brush your cheek, “it’s a shame you don’t remember where we first met — because I never forgot,” 

You furrow your brow, “What are you talking about? I think I’d remember you. You’re…” you jerk your head, eyes looking him up and down — lingering on his white hair and eyes, “distinct,” 

“Well what if I had black hair and green eyes, would you remember then?” And he whispers your name in your ear, and you pause, “the fireworks were nothing compared to you,” 

And your breath catches — “You? But—“ 

“I had snuck out, had a disguise and everything, and I had planned to explore the festival alone but who do I find but you?” His grip on you loosens only to pull you a little closer, “the girl who had stolen two steamed buns and pinned me with part of the blame, making me run after you—“ 

“You didn’t have to run—“ and he snorted. 

“Well, it was that or get caught sneaking out — so I chose the lesser of two evils,” you can’t help it, your fingers trace the curve of his jaw to the back of his ear, “are you seeing if I’m defective?” And you find it. 

“No, he—“ you stop yourself, “you had gotten a small cut right behind your ear, it was deep enough that it would have left a scar behind,” and he had gotten a small cut from one of the soldiers who had grabbed them, bucking him with his sword, before you wrenched him out of there. The two of you spent the rest of the night eating food and sneaking around guards. And then finally climbing up on a rooftop to watch the fireworks. 

“How did you—“ 

“One of my father’s advisers found me later that night, in exchange for never sneaking out again without telling him, he said he would keep tabs on you,” 

You have no words, but one left — “why?” 

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, “maybe it was because I’ve been surrounded by nothing but my family’s yes-men, and you were the one person who treated me like a person, maybe it was the fact that day was the only day I actually had fun,” and he glances at you, “or maybe it was because I was drawn to you,” 

And you snort a little, “Do you believe in that fates nonsense they fed all of us as kids?” 

“I think fate is a very real thing, and I think it’s up to us to seize it,” he releases you, holding your hand before bending to press the barest brush of his lips against the back of your hand, “so, will you seize it or continue to evade your fate?” 

“We’ll never be able to evade the press if you do this,” you whisper, as he presses you against a wall of a secluded pillar of whatever place they had chosen to have this awards show, “and our teams will definitely chew us out if we don’t make an—ah,” you gasp, as his teeth nip at your neck, “Satoru, don’t leave a mark,” 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he licks his lips, as he leans up, his normally messy white locks combed and parted to the side, his lips kiss bitten red from the liplock he had you in for the last ten minutes, and his white suit slightly ruffled and pressed against you, “you taste so sweet,” his thumb runs down your puffy lips, “and the desserts tonight sucked,” 

You chuckle, your fingers toying with the hair resting against his undercut, “Think you would have been pleased with receiving the award for best actor, is that not enough Mr. Gojo?” 

“The only thing that pleases me is my gorgeous wife’s singing and,” his lips find yours in a desperate kiss, and you could taste the fruity mocktail he had earlier on his lips, “and her moans when she’s under me,” his hand slides under your dress, dragging over your pantyhose clad thighs, “do you think anyone would notice if you came back without these?” 

“Yes, I do,” you gasp as he tugs at the delicate fabric, “Toru, we shouldn’t—” but your pleas are half-hearted, as his lips drift to press butterfly kisses up your jaw, “you deserve me insane,” 

“I know,” he chuckles, “that’s why you love me,” and you hum, your noses brushing before you meet lips again, “I love you so much,” 

Your fingers cup his cheek, as he leaned into your touch, “I love you too — don’t you want to enjoy all the accolades, the interviews, the congratulations? You won such a big award, Toru, I want you to celebrate,” 

“I am celebrating,” he grins, tilting his head, “I’m surprised at you, princess — and you’re the smart one between the two of us,” he teases, as he turns his head to kiss your palm, “in an entire ballroom full of people in there and all the places in the world, there’s no one place I rather be with than here with you.” 

“How did I end up stuck with you?” you grumbled, your armor weighing on you heavier than other days, as you stood in front of your prince — the little sun of this kingdom and the future king, the man you were sworn to protect for the rest of your earthly days, and your best friend, for better for worse, “if the fates have written it, I must have done something horrid in a past life,” 

“Do you really believe in that garbage?” Satoru raises an eyebrow, as he places his sword down from practice, waiving off his training partner, as he wipes off his sweat with a towel offered by a maid, “You know that stuff they fed to us so we wouldn’t throw tantrums during classes — so we didn’t turn into slugs for our next life,” 

“Why turn into one when you are one already?” you smirk, and he rolls his eyes, as he runs his hand through his hair. 

“Has a slug ever looked this good before?” and you roll your eyes. 

“Think your ego is going to be so large by the time you become king, your crown won’t sit atop your head correctly,” you sigh, rising to your feet, “now we must get you cleaned and dressed, you have a meeting with the—” 

“I actually cleared my schedule for the rest of the day,” and you blink, frowning. 

“His Majesty will not—” 

“His Majesty will be fine — old man hasn’t kicked the bucket over the last fifty things I’ve done — I doubt this will be more than a ten minute lecture on decorum, fifteen if I decide to poke the bear,” he throws you a grin, as he pulls on a fresh shirt, “come, I have something to show you,” 

“Show me?” you repeat, before his hand finds yours — his hands are smooth despite the constant swordplay and practice he put in — he supposed he owed that to the royal staff, tending to his looks as much as they did his health. The same could not be said about yours — riddled with cuts and calluses alike. Your cheeks burned as your unkempt hand held his — “your highness, this is—” 

“‘Your Highness?’” he repeats, throwing you a smirk over his shoulder, “when have you ever called me that?” 

The appearance of holding your hand as he pulled you down several hallways through the palace was beginning to attract the attention of several gawking onlookers. Your cheeks burn — and you’re not sure if it's from the stares, his words, or the fact he was still holding your hand as you both arrive outside his chambers. But you can’t stop him — but you never could stop him when it came to this, could you? It reminded you of the times he dragged you through the gardens, wanting to show you the rabbits’ hidey hole he had found in the corner of the royal gardens. 

“Well I was made an official royal guard and appointed as your personal guard yesterday so I thought a little professionalism—” he unlocks his door, turning to look at you, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“There’s no need for decorum between us, now is there?” his fingers find a stray strand of your hair, and presses his lips to it, as he opens his door. You glance inside to find a lovely decorated cake and a present wrapped perfectly on the table, “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” 

“What—but—” and your mind realizes the date, “how did you—” 

“You think I’d ever forget your birthday?” he tilts his head, as your eyes slide to him, “it’s the day we met,” 

It was — the day you were brought from your home with your father who had been the king’s royal guard for many years, you were brought to be the prince’s — but you didn’t know you would find more than that in him. 

“I didn’t know you did this for your personal staff,” you teased, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, “I certainly can’t imagine what they would think of you inviting a woman to your room for it,” 

“Well, you are my personal guard, you’re here to personally guard me against anything, right?” and this was the nature of your relationship wasn’t it? Teasing and goading — toeing that line of proprietary before one of you eased off. 

“It seems like I need to guard you only against yourself, your highness,” 

“Satoru,” he corrects, his eyes sliding to you, as he says your name with a softness that you wished he wouldn’t, “you had no issue calling me that before,” 

“We were only friends then, I’m your guard now—“ 

“Do you kiss all your friends?” And your cheeks flare, as your gaze refuses to meet his. 

“That was—a mistake,” you whisper the last two words, “we can’t do this—“ 

“Why not?” You turn away, your eyes sliding to the cake, a frown pulling on your lips. 

“Because you have a duty to your people and I have a duty to you,” and his fingers find your shoulder gently, giving you leave to pull away — but you can’t, you couldn’t. 

“My only duty I desire is the one to you—I love my people, but I can’t be the king they deserve if you’re not the one beside me,” your gaze still cast downward, “I will cast away any responsibility, if I could have a chance with you, sweetheart—“ 

“The king has discussed your engagement with me,” you murmur, “he told me he plans to have you engaged with a princess from a neighboring—“ And his arm is wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer — your gaze lost in the endless blue skies of his eyes, “we can’t—“ 

“I’ll find a way,” and you scoff. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you mutter, and his warm palm slides against your cheek. 

“This isn’t me promising to find a unicorn when we were five, Princess,” and you chuckle at the thought of his child self trudging into the woods with carrots in hand and what he thought was fairy dust (it was ladies’ finishing powder), “I swear that we’ll be together,” and he reaches into his pocket, and holds a small box, opening it to reveal a beautiful infinity pendant, “and this is my promise,” 

You bite your lip, staring at the silver glinting in the sunlight trickling in from the windows, “Satoru—“ 

“Finally giving in?” And you sigh. 

“How can you be sure we’ll be together?” He chuckles, as he gently turns you, making you face the mirror in his room as he places the necklace delicately around your neck, his fingers brushing against the skin of your neck before he clasps it. His arms slowly slide around your middle as he meets your gaze in your reflection, lips curling. 

His lips press a sweet kiss to your cheek, “Because I know I’d choose you, again and again.” 

“Why did they choose him as my model again?” You groaned as you looked at the list, tossing it back on your desk, “he’s so impossible to work with—“ 

“The shoots are finished quick—“ your boss replies gruffly, as he stands with his hands in his pockets, “and he said he’d only shoot with you. Said he likes your work and you’re the only one who can ‘capture the real him,’ some crap like that,” he shrugs. 

“Yaga, I can’t keep dealing with this man, can’t he shoot with anyone else?” 

He sighs, scratching the back of his head, “Look, the magazine we’re working with chose him as the model, and he said he would only do the shoot if you did it,” 

You sigh, leaning on your palm, elbow against your desk. “you’re not giving me a choice are you?” 

And no, he wasn’t. 

Because now you were at the studio for the sight of the shoot, getting everything ready that you could before your model arrived. You made sure his preferred makeup artist and hairstylist were available, you picked out his favorite snacks, got his preferred lighting (to be adjusted when he was on set), and had your cameras adjusted for his light sensitivity. 

All of which reduced the amount of time you had to spend with this man — but not even the most divine snacks would stop him from running his mouth. 

“Sweetheart,” you turned to see him, “miss me?” 

“When pigs fly, maybe,” but your words don’t faze him, a mock pout on his lips, “why do you request me to do your shoots, Gojo?” 

“Because it’s the only way you’ll see me,” and you sigh, as you continue to adjust your camera again, “you still haven’t given me a chance—“ 

“I gave you one chance, wasn’t that enough?” Before you turn to him, “look, I’m here because I have to be. I want to shoot — get in and get out and not have to—“ 

“One chance to talk to you — please, even if you don’t believe me or forgive me—“ 

“Fine,” you shake your head, frustrated, “go finish the shoot and we can talk for five minutes after,” and maybe he would stop forcing you into this situation. 

Satoru Gojo was the top wanted model by all the agencies — agencies were looking to snipe him and others were looking to have exclusive deals with him — whether it was photography businesses or brands. 

You couldn’t blame them, as you adjusted your lights and took a few test shots — he was gorgeous, even by model standards. From his skin to his body to his attitude, it was effortless for him. Even a bad angle or bad lighting did very little to detract from his flawless look. 

The chiseled cut of his jaw put statues to shame, his eyes shone brighter than the shiniest gemstones, his charm the envy of the love goddess herself, and his smile was enough to change hearts and minds alike. 

The shoots always look little time — the part that took the most time was choosing the best shots — you’d love to take one bad picture of him. Even for yourself — but that had proved impossible. Even deprived of sleep in the hours of the early morning, he was perfect. 

Perfect — except for his loyalty, you supposed. 

How had it gone so wrong so fast? And how did you let yourself become so carried away that you thought you were different from the others he bedded? 

And the shoot was over in a moment, and just like he said, Satoru was by your side as you begin to break down the equipment, as the other staff filed out, “can we talk now?” 

“If you have to,” you would give him an ear, but it didn’t mean you’d give him anything else.

“I never cheated on you—“ 

“Bullshit,” you reply, as you pick up the tripod you set up,  “I guess you didn’t the full five minutes,” 

“No, I didn’t—what you saw—“ 

“I saw you kissing another girl all over social media—“

“You saw me with Suguru,” he sighs, “and we weren’t kissing — we were hugging. You thought it was kissing from the angle of the picture, and before I could explain, you had blocked me on everything,”

You pause, “Suguru?” You repeat, as you pull out your phone and pull up the picture — black hair, hair half up, and they could have been hugging. And Satoru pulls out his own phone and shows you a selfie he took that same day, the meta data matching, “oh, oh fuck,” 

“Was that an apology? Not familiar with those coming out of your mouth so—“ 

“Satoru, I’m so sorry,” you murmur, “I saw the pictures and I heard the rumors and I assumed the worst of you,” you run your fingers through your hair, “even though I knew you better than that,” 

“You did, but I understand why you thought that,” he shrugged, “we had only been seeing each other for a month, but it meant something to me,” his voice softens.

“To me too,” you shake your head, “I’m so sorry, Satoru. I don’t know how to make it up to you,” 

“I know,” he smiles, “have dinner with me,” 

You blink. “why?”

“What do you mean, sweetheart? Everyone eats dinner, it’s a—“ 

“Satoru,” you sigh, “I didn’t believe you, I didn’t trust you, how can you forgive me like that? How could you want to be with someone like that?” 

“Well, you made a mistake — you forgave me for the other mistakes I made during our time together, and if I hadn’t let my team convince me that my fake reputation as a playboy would help sell my image — maybe we wouldn’t have been in this mess to begin with,” his fingers brush against yours, “besides, I want to believe in second chances — because I’d want to believe you’d give me one too,” 

Your fingers intertwine with his, “Even when I don’t deserve it?” 

And he lifts your hand to his lips, blue eyes glinting like an ocean dabbled in sunlight, “All the more for you make up for, right?”

This wasn’t right. No. No. 

“Satoru, Toru, please,” your fingers cupped his face, your fingers smeared with his blood as Maki pulled gou away, “no, no!” You don’t remember screaming, but you know you did because your throat was raw, your tears streaming down your face as your hands shook, staring at the dried blood on your fingers. 

He promised you he would win. He promised you he would come back. He promised you a life, a family, a home — something beyond jujutsu. 

And now you were left with nothing but that. 

“I’ll come back,” he had murmured in your ear the night before, his fingers tracing your cheek, “there’s no way I won’t. Have you ever seen me lose?” 

You give a small chuckle, “You just got trapped in a box for almost twenty days?” And he pouts, as he tilts your head up, fingers sliding against your cheek. 

“It was a one time fluke, sweetheart,” and his lips grazing your lips, “and I’m here now aren’t I?” you hum, “and I’ll always be there,” 

“In every life?” He smiles. 

“In every one.” 

In every one — except this one.  

“One would think you’re helpless, if you pout like that,” you teased, as you crawl into bed beside him, a smile on your lips, as he tugs you steadfast into his arms, “it’s only been a few minutes,” 

“It felt like a lifetime,” he presses a kiss to your head, “Is he asleep?” And you nod, a sigh on your lips as you settle into bed.

“After about twenty minutes of arguing, he passed out while I was telling him a story. He’s still not accustomed to this mansion,” neither were you — you had spent a few nights lying awake after jerking from the clutches of sleep — the paranoia still rampant in your mind. But those thoughts were a little farther now as you lie against his chest, heart thrumming under your body — the very heart you were meant to stop, and a chuckle escapes your lips. 

“What is it?” He raises an eyebrow, and you shake your head. 

“Why did you help me?” You draw circles on his chest, “you had every reason not to,” your fingers traced a line across his neck, “I even held a knife to your neck,” 

“And that was very attractive,” and you roll your eyes, “what? I like a woman who takes charge,” 

“Oh I know,” you chuckle, your lips pressing sweet kisses to his neck, “but I still don’t understand — you had every reason to distrust me, we barely knew each other, and yet—“ 

“You were still the girl I fell in love with that night,” he murmurs, “I just knew you were something special and when I saw what you were doing — trying to uproot corruption, I knew I was right. And I knew I had to make you my duchess,” 

“Well I’m not your wife yet,” you tease, the words barely out of your mouth before he’s got you pinned under him, “Toru—“ 

“Now, I told you I was going to seize my fate when I saw it,” and he kisses you, stealing every thought from your mind and every breath from your body, his touch filling you with warmth in return, “and I see it right in front of me,” 

“And what does it look like?” you smile against his lips, as he leans down to kiss you again. 

“Bright.” 

“Is it just me or do these paparazzi lights get brighter and brighter each time?” you rub your eyes as the two of you slide into your car for the night, the driver setting off towards your home. 

“I don’t know, I was too busy being blinded by my gorgeous wife,” and Satoru’s hands are all but under your dress, sliding up and down your sides, before one cups your cheek, “did i mention how incredible you look, sweetheart?” 

You hum, “about a million times,” your fingers slide against his shoulders until he’s practically lying on top of you against these leather seats. 

“That’s a million times too little — you look incredible, sweetheart. This dress was made for you,” and his lips taste as sweet as his words, your fingers sliding into his snowy locks while his slide against your bare thighs, “and I can’t wait to take it off when we get home,” 

“You’re going to take it off now if your hands slide any further up,” he draws a shiver from you as his hands do just that, daring further up your thighs, “Toru—“ 

“Don’t worry, the partition is up and it’s just you and me, sweetheart,” and he’s sinking to his knees on the floor, as his hands slide up your dress, “just keep your voice down, don’t want anyone hearing my wife, do we?” And his lips are grazing your inner thigh, his smirk against your skin, “good thing I relieved you of those pantyhose, huh?” 

“Toru,” you whined, as his fingers parted your thighs, and he could see your all too soaked panties, a damp patch and the fabric nearly translucent while it clung to your clit, “please—“ 

“So needy — and now that mouth of yours is being as honest as this one,” his lithe fingers tug aside the crotch of your panties to expose your cunt, “all this f’me? Been like this since our make out earlier? Surprised I didn’t see your cum drip down your legs,” 

And his words make you squirm, “Satoru, I swear to god—“ and his lips kiss your clit, as two fingers tease at your entrance, gathering your pre on his fingertips. 

“You don’t have to call me god, Princess — just Satoru is fine,” he murmurs as his lips close around your clit, as his fingers work inside your walls, a delicious stretch that draws a pretty gasp from your lips, your head falling back against the leather headrest. 

The sounds of the squelch of your cunt and the slurping of his lips against your clit rang in your ears — your fingernails digging into the seat as your other hand clamped over your lips. 

“That’s it, just like that, Princess,” his tongue darts out to  drag circles around your clit, while his fingers find the spot that makes you see stars. 

“I’m—“ you manage, before you’re cumming around his fingers and lips, your toes curling as you do, head back against the headrest. Your eyes find him to see him looking all too perfect even ruffled, as his lips were glossy with your release, tongue darting out to clean it, before he licked his fingers one by one. 

“And you were worried about the paparazzi noticing your missing pantyhose,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, a smirk against your mouth, “let’s hope no one saw that,” 

And there’s a sharp rap on the window, “Sir and madam? We’ve arrived,” and his lips quirk, as he adjusts your clothes, cleaning your smudged lipstick with his thumb, as you reach up to wipe his lips where the lipstick had gone. 

“Shall we celebrate my win properly?” He opens the door and slides out of the car, holding out his hand for yours.

“As we always do?” And your fingers find his, as he presses his lips to the back of your palm. 

“Always, Princess.” 

“Are you ready yet, Princess?” Your Prince’s arms slid around your waist, his lips already at your neck, as his ocean blues met your gaze in the mirror, “how lucky is our kingdom to have such a lovely future queen? And how much luckier am I to have her as my wife?” 

“We do not know if the people will approve of me still, Toru,” you murmur, eyes shying away from his, your fingers finding the infinity around your neck, “you promised me forever, but will they grant it to us?” 

“Do you have such little faith, sweetheart, in your future husband?” His fingers find your chin, tilting it upwards to meet your gaze, “I’ve already done the impossible — I charmed you over the last two decades haven’t I?” 

“More like wore me down,” and he pinches your cheek, before he presses a kiss to the affronted skin, “re-defined the long game,” and he kisses your nose, “and stole my heart and soul while I wasn’t looking,” 

“I never steal,” he smiles that same smile that was emblazoned in your memory all those years ago, when he emerged from the woods with not a unicorn, but a baby fawn he had frightened from very same thicket, “I only take what was given to me,” he smiles, “and you willingly handed over your heart the moment you let me into your life,” 

“What was I thinking?” you murmur, cupping his cheek, “now I’ll have to deal with the politics of a kingdom for the rest of my days,” 

His lips curl widely, as his lips find yours, a heat that simmers into passion and then into simple love, “I promise, in exchange, I’ll spend the rest of my days making you the happiest you’ve ever been,” 

“The happiest, huh?” you murmur, foreheads pressed together, “that’s a tall order, so you think you can do it?” 

“I know I can,” he smiles, his arms pulling you impossibly closer, “because I’ll never trying to make you happy, Princess.” 

“You’re far too happy with this arrangement,” you say through the door, arms crossed as you pressed your back against it, “I don’t want to come out,” 

“You agreed to this, c’mon sweetheart, you’ve taken countless pictures of me—“ 

“You’re a model — it’s literally your job,” you glare at him through the door, “I’m behind the camera — not in front of it,” 

“But you’re just as beautiful in front of it as you are behind it,” and you can hear his pout through the door, “if you really don’t want to, sweetheart, I won’t make you—“ 

And the door opens, your lips curled in a pout as you emerge in a cerulean gown — the same color as his eyes, the very same that widened upon seeing you. 

“Was this necessary?” you squirm in place, as he bites his lip, eyes raking over you, “Toru—“ 

And he’s in front of you in an instant, his arms winding aaaaaaaaround your waist, “I want to kiss you so badly, but I’ll mess up your makeup,” your breath catches, so his finger brushes against your lips and presses it to his own lips, a little of your lipstick sticking to his lips. 

“Toru,” and his lips quirk at the nickname, “why do you want to take pictures of me?” 

“Because, I want pictures of you that are just for me,” he gently takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your wrist, “because I’ll never have this moment with you again, but I’ll have these pictures with you,” 

“And when do I get pictures that are of you and just for me?” And he presses a kiss to your head. 

“Anytime you want,” he murmurs, “we have all the time in the world, don’t we?” 

Time — that was the one thing Satoru Gojo always lacked. It felt as if his whole life was an hourglass, waiting for the sand to run out — and the one time it came close, blood seeping like sand through his neck, he was able to turn it on its head, until time was on his side agai.  

He wasn’t sure if time was on his side now.  

He could only see the winter sky above — flecks of white he could think were snow but never be sure if that was his vision going blurry. He couldn’t feel anything — but he heard the all too distant squelch of his blood against the ground, the sounds of footsteps, the feeling of his body being lifted, a smile still on his face.

He was going home — the one person who always made his world right side up — the only person who could catch the sand that slipped between his fingers and hold it between warm palms. He forced his body to keep running — to keep going, the flow of cursed energy may have come from the stomach and his brain may be able to power his reversed curse technique — but that didn’t compare to his will to make it home — make it to you. 

“Toru! Satoru!” he couldn’t will his eyes to open, only managing the barest flutter of his eyelids, “it’s okay, Shoko’s got you, I got you,” you murmur, a soft brush that must but your lips. 

Love was always the most twisted curse of them all — and he knew it had always been a curse to love him. Anyone drawn into his orbit seemed only doomed to fall around him — whether it was by their choice, his choice, or fate’s choice. 

Fate. That was a word he never had put a lot of stock into. Suguru always said there was a certain order to things — sorcerers were made to defend humans, and that was our duty. He had replied that fate was an excuse for people too afraid to challenge the status quo. 

Maybe Suguru took that too seriously. 

When Suguru defected — Satoru knew something had to change — he couldn’t let others go even when they had that blue spring. The time that he had stayed frozen in — even as everyone else left, he still lived in those moments, and so he barely lived in the present at all. 

Not until you had shattered his self made prison. 

And it wasn’t without difficulty. 

He told you so many times that it was dangerous to love him, it was foolish to love a person like him with a constant target on their back because inevitably the target would shift to you. And he didn’t want to live in a world without you — but he could choose to, as long as you were the one who would live. 

But you were steadfast in your love, roots cracking through concrete until he was covered in your ivy, entangled so deep that there was no escape—because one look from you had stolen his reservations out from under him. Because loving you was as simple as breathing — it just was. 

“I would want you to curse me — in every life.” 

That’s what he told you the night before this battle — because he knew if he didn’t make it in this life, maybe he could be with you in the rest of them. But how many days would it take until you couldn’t remember the sound of his laugh, the smile on his lips, the way his face looked — because he always feared the same about outliving you. He would only want to outlive you, if only because he didn’t want you to have to bear the pain of outliving him. 

Love was twisted, he thought — as your lips brushed his, he could hear you whisper sweet nothings, falling on deaf ears, but heard all the same — once one found it, they cannot live without it — until they have to. 

His eyes flutter open, and he sees the blurry image of your face, scarlet smeared on your face, as his hand shakily lifted to your cheek, “I love you, sweetheart,” he manages barely a whisper, “I’ll see you again, I promise.”

Maybe he did curse you in the end — because your souls were bound together in existence — to fall into each other’s orbit and live together happily in every lifetime—

Your fingers gently shut his eyes closed, as tears streamed from your own — except in this one. 

“Is it really a curse to meet you again?” you had murmured that early morning, as dawn peaked over Tokyo, and his lips brushed against yours, “sounds like a blessing,” 

“You know that blessings often wear disguises — and words like that always carry a price—” but his lips curl, “but if the price is to meet you and fall in love again and again, I suppose I could pay it.” 

“‘Suppose?’” you repeat, and he laughs at your immediate pout. 

He kisses away your pout, as you slowly melt into his kiss, “Y’know I’d pay any price to fall in love with you again, sweetheart”

You smile, “Just stay with me in this one, that would be enough.” 

Did other lives matter when this was the only one he had fallen for you in this life? He wanted to stay with you here — in this moment, in this time — he wanted you in every life — not just all the others. 

And he vowed that he would— his fingers twitched— 

He would love you in this life too. 

✧ a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this one!! i had a lot of fun writing it. it might not be everyone's cup of tea but hey, i enjoyed it. although i questioned my writing ability a lot while writing it lmao

✧ taglist: @gojolova4eva, @xxemmarldxx, @gojolvrr34, @lilbrubby, @jaixxxsc, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @elaemae, @gojonegs, @captain-shittykawa, @sillyrabbitreads, @akumicchi, @satorustorm, @equikaz, @imaginativeghorl, , @dhoranbolt, @strawmariee, @catsgomurp, @that-goth-bisexual, @fushitoru, @dazailover1900

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[tojipie]

welcome home <3

he’s unboxed ! who cheered. by far one of my most requested fics of all time. started this series 6 months ago and it remains one of my favs :,) this is by no means the end though ! i haven’t been writing any of the additions to this series in “order” and i am still 100% open to writing about his life inside/after prison lol. thank u to all the lovely ppl that have been showing love to these since april mwah mwah mwah mwah

as always, prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: (incarceration, fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, p in v smut, pining, road head, swallowing, creampie, dirty talk, multiple rounds)

“just step through here and—yep,” the guard waves his security want across your outstretched arms, clearing you to take your belongings from the conveyor belt.

you’d done this dance a hundred times over the past seven years, driving up to the district penitentiary twice a week to see your boyfriend—now fiancé.

toji told you he didn’t have it in him to wait, popping the question during a conjugal visit a month ago. 

the man had known he’d wanted to marry you even before he got locked up. the feeling was mutual, but unspoken, always hanging in the air between the two of you.

you on the other hand had known you wanted to marry toji the moment he whispered his first “i love you,” said to you through the crackly speaker of a burner phone on a night when neither of you knew if he’d be coming home or not.

you make a beeline for the release wing, breaking into a subtle jog without drawing too much attention to yourself. the bouquet of green flowers you’d bought at the grocery store jostles in your purse, leaving a breadcrumb trail of stray petals.

there, around a bend and down the corridor stands the man of your dreams, flanked by officers and personnel at the front desk. 

metal cuffs clack together as the man reaches to accept a clipboard from the release agent, skillfully uncapping the pen with his teeth to fill out the means for his freedom.

he looks up a split second before you speak, dropping the clipboard with an audible clatter. toji tears down the corridor with a look that speaks of relief beyond words.

“toji!” you yell, sprinting to the inmate with outstretched arms. you nearly trip over your own feet with how quick you barrel towards him.

warm bodies clash together at last, squeezing, cradling, and caressing every inch of each other at last. his law enforcement entourage watches from afar, some smiling, others annoyed.

you’re lifted clean off the ground as strong, tattooed arms slip over your head and around your body. thick fingers work their way into your hair, cradling your head to his shoulder. 

actions speak louder than words, you know that much from how quickly he buckles, dropping to his knees with your body still wrapped around his. 

toji smells different every time you come to visit. there were days when the tang of blood stuck to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed, a telling sign of his short temper. 

other days he’d smell like the earth, soil from the rec field permeating his already brown garments after his morning run.

once in a while, you’d catch hints of industrial paint and car exhaust, a smell built up from hours of making license plates for pocket change from the state. “pennies,” he’d tell you, “that’s all we fucking get in here.”

today, toji smells like himself. like the man you fell in love with 7 years ago in the passenger seat of a BMW, gazing into green eyes while gentle hands brushed the hair from your face. 

you almost think he’s laughing until warm tears trickle through the porous fabric of your shirt. 

strong shoulders quiver as quiet sobs rack his body, you rub his back in small circles, unable to pull away with how tight he’s holding you against his chest.

“i love you,” the inmate whimpers, wiping hot tears with his sleeve. he pulls back to press your lips together, mumbling nonsense in between kisses.

“pretty girl—m’ sorry— missed you,” his hands shake as they curl into the fabric at your waist.

you’d seen him cry exactly twice in his life. the first being the night he’d opened up to you in full for the first time, quietly relaying stories of neglect and abuse from his childhood while you kissed tears from his cheeks.

the second was well, the day he went away.

to see him break down like this so openly was devastating. he hated being emotional, told you it was humiliating. you’re sure he felt more than vulnerable, the leader of the city’s biggest drug ring, crumpled on the floor of a prison hallway 

“it’s okay baby,” you tell him, still rubbing circles into his skin.

to touch him like this, at last, was unlike anything the two of you had been allowed to experience for the past 7 years. this wasn’t your two legally allowed hugs at the beginning and end of your visits, or a quick fuck in a storage closet.

this was love. to hold and be held in front of law enforcement personnel without threat of being reprimanded. this was the first time you had been allowed to feel him under the tips of your fingers with an audience, publicly declaring your claim on each other without fear. 

you never blamed toji for what had happened, as angry as you were that first year. he blamed himself enough for the both of you really. 

you’d come to learn over the years that it had already been too late for him to get out of his line of work way before you’d found each other, a cycle he couldn’t break.

prison was always a possibility, inevitable even. that’s just how it was.

you slowly gather your purse off the ground, cellophane-wrapped flowers coming into view. 

“for me?” he laughs, slightly embarrassed. dark green carnations, just like his eyes. 

“who else?” you tease, watching the distress melt from his face.

you share a look briefly, yours saying you’re safe with me. his saying i know.

the soft clicks of black work boots pull you from your thoughts, a female officer in tow.

“you guys ready to get started?” she asks softly, shooting you a sympathetic look.

toji stands with a chuckle, not letting you respond. silver cuffs dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re carried back to the group.

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

half an hour of paperwork for his freedom. that’s what you give the prison in exchange for his belongings and dignity. 

the waiting room is quiet, sterile air filtering through dated vents. calloused fingers rub over your ankle, legs propped up in his lap.

“feels like a hospital in here,” he mumbles, trying to cut through the silence.

the cuffs are gone, thank god. though you’re more than unhappy with the marks they left on his wrists. toji doesn’t seem to mind, used to almost a decade of this treatment.

the release desk worker slides you two a yellow bag under the glass divider once you finish your task, pointing you in the direction of the bathrooms in case toji wanted to change. 

the inmate—no, ex-inmate you remind yourself— hands you the bag with a disinterested look. 

he doesn’t want to remember, you realize. too scared to wear the suit he had on the day the world took you from him. you quickly trash the old clothes and hold out your shoulder bag to him, fresh clothes neatly folded inside. 

“always prepared huh?” toji smiles, grateful at the gesture. “haven’t changed a bit.”

you wait a couple of minutes outside the single-stall bathroom, physically picking your jaw up off the floor when he emerges.

to say that his old shirt fit would be... egregiously wrong. blasphemous even.

toji’s shirt doesn’t just “not fit”, it’s bursting at the seams as it struggles to accommodate his hulking form, stretching over plains of corded muscle like a rubber band pulled too tight. 

seeing him so often had likely gotten your brain used to the change, preventing you from realizing how fucking big your fiancé had gotten. truly.

the black garment is so tight against his body that it’s practically a second skin. you make note of the way it molds into the dips and curves of his abs, mentally reminding yourself to get him to wear it for you later. 

you suppose the change makes sense. if toji wasn’t with you on a day visit he was always in his cell, sticking to a strict workout regimen to take his mind off things. still, you rack your brain trying to pinpoint how and when such a massive transformation slipped your mind.

a tattooed hand snaps you out of your trance, cradling your cheek.

“you focused?” your fiancé teases, rubbing circles into your jaw with his thumb.

“i think that thing’s gonna explode if you move,” you swat his hand away. 

“would you rather i take it off to be safe?” he asks, jutting a thumb behind him at the waiting room desk.

the workers make no attempt to hide their oggling, faces pressed against the glass barrier separating your party from theirs.

“no— god keep it on,” you mutter, shooting them a nasty look.

“you and your girlfriend ready to go fushiguro?” an officer says, holding the door open for the both of you. toji squats down momentarily to get a grip on your thighs, folding you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.

“wife,” he corrects, shouldering past the guard and trudging down the corridor with calculated steps.

the coos that ring out from the help desk are humiliating.

waxed tile fades into worn concrete as the two of you pass the threshold into the prison parking lot, your soon-to-be-husband muttering a curt “go fuck yourselves” to the officers who’d wished him good luck on his way out the door.

you’re proud of him for holding his tongue, in a way. knowing toji and his temper there were a hundred more creative and undoubtedly gruesome things he could have said to the personnel who’d kept him locked up for the better half of a decade. 

the world flips right side up again as you’re gently placed on your feet in front of the car. 

toji raises his head to the sky, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“s’ nice,” he mumbles, reaching to intertwine your hands. “felt the sun during rev time but.. not like this.”

you hum, rubbing your thumb over tattooed knuckles. 

“get ready to experience a lot more sun then,” you giggle. “wanna have a look at the car?” the question is more of a rhetorical one at this point considering he’s already running his hand over the hood with a whistle.

“haven’t seen this baby in a while,” he smiles, internally gushing at your choice to welcome him to the world in the car he used to drive you home the night you met. your fiancé doesn’t have to say thank you, you know how grateful he is from his smile alone.

he falters for a bit, looking like a newborn fawn with how careful his steps are as he circles the vehicle. you figure wearing proper shoes instead of rubber slides must feel at least a little abnormal after 7 long years. 

“alright,” toji states, rolling his shoulders in his too-tight top. “fuck are we waiting for, i wanna go home.”

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

you pay no mind to toji the first time he turns to look at you, opening his mouth to say something before slumping back into his seat with a frustrated sigh.

the fourth time it happens, you speak up.

“what are you doing?” you laugh, eyeing him from the driver's seat

“getting rubbed to death by my fucking zipper,” he mutters, repositioning his lower half to take the pressure off his cock. his frustration isn’t aimed at you in the slightest, all blame placed on his bottoms.

oh.. oh.

the whirlwind of emotions toji had gone through in the past 3 hours alone had taken a toll on his mind and body. but tasting the first morsels of freedom with you, alone in a car that smelled like you? you’d be worried if he wasn’t hard.

you had no problem helping his little problem go away, the question was how soon.

the idea that piques on you is absolutely shameful, you’re not even sure where it came from but you don’t have it in you to care. 

you know this road, you’ve used it a thousand times to make the trip up to the penitentiary. judging by how long you’d been driving you’d say there was about 10 minutes left before ruler-straight tar merged into the twists and turns of the suburbs.

“when did your license expire?” you ask, cautiously peering in the rearview mirror. good, no cars.

“3 years ago,” he laughs, “why?”

fuck it, you think.

“you still remember how to steer?” 

“course i d— oh.”

it finally dawns on him. you smile, shooting him a look that says “want to?”

you’re sure you have your answer judging by how quick he shucks his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines.

“oh fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open as your mouth presses against his base. 

your fiancé steers while your head bobs just beneath the dash, one hand on the wheel and the other placed firmly at the crown of your head, guiding you up and down the shaft.

your throat flexes around the intrusion, fighting the hulking feeling of his length mercilessly fucking into your mouth.

“fuck, perfect girl— my girl,” he shudders, hips moving to buck into your slick throat.

“gonna cum, gonna— shit,”

fingers kissed in dark ink massage your throat softly, urging you to swallow the hot load coating every inch of your mouth. you flutter around his length, pulling back to clean him off with your tongue.

“fucks gotten into you, pretty girl?” he whispers, so out of breath you barely hear him. 

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

you barely make it up the steps of the house before you’re shoved against the door, tattooed hands groping up and down your body with fervor.

“keys,” he says against your lips, “keys—fuck, now,” his voice is hoarser this time, desperation clear.

you whip around to jam the item into the lock, not unaware of the rock-hard dick grinding into your jean-clad ass from behind.

you’re being carried to the couch before you even step off the doormat, a stray throw blanket cushioning your fall as you’re pressed into squeaky leather. 

“won’t be gentle,” toji groans, ripping your jeans and panties down in one fluid motion.” can’t right now.”

“don’t be.” you say, rucking his shirt off his body surprisingly quick. “wouldn’t want you to.”

you needed him, needed toji to have his way with you. to christen your home round after round until you couldn’t feel where his body and yours ended.

when it came down to it, you suppose 

he smiles at the crude admission, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your drenched folds.

“filthy,” he mutters, said almost lovingly. toji grips his base and sinks to the hilt with a sharp groan, shuddering at the heat of your walls.

the stretch is delicious, filling you from every angle and pressing right against that special spot. you’re surprised at how easily he slams in, though you’re embarrassed to admit it was entirely because of how soaked you were. 

toji immediately pulls back with a flick of his hips, pistoning into you like his life depends on it. 

he hasn’t changed, you think. still so incredibly in tune with your body, skills that would put a pornstar to shame.

this was better than some quick closeted fuck under the cover of night after slipping a guard a rubber band of cash. this was primal, filthy. two bodies writhing against each other, the only goal being complete and utter pleasure. 

toji makes no effort to shush you like he would if you were sneaking around, basking in your sighs and whines like water from a stream.

“missed this,” he says, licking a long, wet stripe from your sternum to your pulse. “missed you, missed having you every day.”

“you’ll have me forever,” you moan, sucking a purple bruise into the tattooed skin of his throat.

thick fingers thread into your hair to hold you to his neck, silently commanding you to bite down.

and so you do. you bite down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking over pink teeth marks as his thrusts reach their maximum speed.

the pleasure you feel is blinding. stars explode behind your vision while the curve of his cock hits that heavenly spot in you just right. over, and over, and over.

your climax sneaks up on you before you can think, ripping a wail from the depths of your chest. toji’s thrusts falter to a halt as you lock down on him, pleasantly caught off guard by the vice grip you have around him.

“oh my g— holy shit,” he groans, mouth hanging open. dark brows furrow it to a look of pure pleasure, emerald eyes squeezing tight.

“keep going,” you mumble, scratching rivets down the skin of his back. “just keep fucking me please don’t stop please pl—”

“yeah? keep going?” he teases, groping at the swell of your breast. “greedy huh?”

you did want more, that was the thing. you just came the hardest you ever had in years but you’d be damned if he didn’t keep giving it to you.

brutal thrusts shake the frame of the couch. your bodies meld like they were made for each other, sharing pleasure in the comfort that came with the knowledge that the both of you intended to fuck until you physically couldn’t anymore.

“gonna come,” your fiancé pants, mouthing at the curve of one of your breasts. blunt teeth brush over the bud of your nipple, sending shockwaves down your spine

“inside, fuck—please,” you’re practically shaking.

“inside?” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like gold. “you want my seed? huh?” 

you nod, clutching to his naked back as he ruts into you, deeper than ever. strong hands grip the back of your thighs practically folding you in half, opening you up in ways you thought to be impossible.

hot release fills you up for the second time that day, shrouding your lower half in a blanket of warmth.

you sigh, low and satiated at the feeling inside of you, pulling toji to your chest when he collapses on top of you.

“we should probably..” toji trails off, completely out of breath. “should probably head upstairs.” he heaves, chest swelling with deep gulps of air.

“or we could go another round?” you mumble, throwing the question out there. 

“shit, yeah.. probably should right?” he chuckles

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