#excited to not grow up at all in the next year

[sahkuna]

TO YOU SOMEDAY — GOJO SATORU

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

synopsis: time makes the heart grow fonder... you think. from your early childhood years to navigating life as adults, there are key moments that gojo satoru holds near and dear. there are so many things he wants and hopes to say to you, someday. but for now, the memories and things that he keeps will suffice.

series content warning(s): afab reader, 18+ so mdni, modern au/canon divergence, childhood friends, frienemies to lovers, slow-ish burn, flashback(s) used a lil to drive plot, fluff & domestic fluff, pining, small angst if you squint sorry, eventual smut/smut → resolved sexual tension, #MMC BEING SO IN 🤍 WITH FMC IT'S PATHETIC (WE ALL CHEERED).

word count: 3k :3 | series masterlist

THEN

You’re about eight years old on the wet, gloomy April morning you first met him. 

His arrival was unexpected, especially considering he entered the school year about two weeks after it had started. 

“Everyone,” your third-grade teacher, Ms. Ayase, stood at the front of the classroom with her hands clasped together. Beside her was a child, a boy, no taller than the middle half of her torso. “Today we have a new student joining our class!”

This news sparked excited whispers and chatter that floated through the rows of desks and chairs in the room. You sat a little taller in your seat, your eyes zeroed in on the new kid who stood motionless beside your teacher. 

Ms. Ayase thumped her palm loudly against the chalkboard— twice, then three times— to regain her class’s attention. Pleased once everyone had fallen silent, she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’d like you all to meet Gojo. Gojo Satoru.”

Young, curious eyes around the room took turns peeking at their new classmate with prolonged stares. Sharp blue eyes matched their curiosity with an uninterested gaze. His little fists jammed tight into his pockets as he stared straight toward the back of the room as if he’d rather be elsewhere.

“I trust that you all will make him feel welcome today and going forward,” Ms. Ayase continued. 

You’d seen most kids cry and buckle under the sudden weight of attention thrown onto them while being introduced to 20-something pairs of eyes staring right back at them. In contrast, other kids basked in the spotlight with glee, quick to spew fun facts about themselves or whatever cool interests they were dying to share with the class.

But this kid? Gojo? 

He didn’t even crack the smallest of smiles. Not even when your fellow classmate and friend, Momo, waved a cheerful hand at him.

For a split second, large, bright blue eyes landed on you and settled there for a fleeting moment before he shifted his attention away.

The harsh, bright light from the class’s luminescent bulbs glinted against the rims of Ms. Ayase’s red rectangular glasses when she glanced down at her new student. “We’re having one of our custodians bring you a new desk, Gojo. So for the time being I’ll have you sit tight right next to…”

Your teacher’s warm brown eyes scanned the room of third graders as many enthusiastic arms shot up in the air paired with piercing “Me!”s and “Choose me!”s chorused all around you.

You felt relieved when you saw everyone throwing their hat into the ring to have Gojo Satoru sit beside them because now you wouldn’t have to worry about making small talk, especially with a boy.

Content with the many options Ms. Ayase now had to choose from, you drifted your attention outside the window toward the school campus courtyard. With all the commotion now drowned out, you took the time to ponder about what games you’d play with your friends during the next recess.

Seconds slipped by with you lost in your thoughts, oblivious to how classmates' antics had stopped and the sudden hush that blanketed the classroom. It was so unnatural and it dawned on you that Ms. Ayase must have already made her choice. So, when you snap your focus back to the front of the room, you’re jolted at the fact that everyone is now looking at you. 

It took a moment for reality to sink in that your teacher had called your name until she repeated it, shaking you from your daze. A few more students turned in their seats and cast mixed looks of envy and surprise.

Out of everyone who had raised their hands, of course, she had to have chosen you to be Gojo’s temporary seatmate. Of. Course.

“Huh?” you squawked in bewilderment, taken aback by her impromptu choice. “Me!?” Suddenly nervous under the scrutiny of your classmates, you shrunk into your seat in a weak attempt to lessen the heat of their stares. 

Judging by the looks of it, he doesn’t look all too thrilled about her decision either. As if he were sizing you up, Gojo gives you a jaded once-over before hauling his navy blue backpack from the floor with a quipped, “Sure.”

Fortunately enough for Ms. Ayase, your desk wasn’t far from the front, so it took her only a minute or so to take an extra chair from the corner of her room and drag it aaall the way over to you. 

Once at your desk, she plopped the chair beside you with a resounding thud. She flapped her hand a few times as if to signal you to scooch over and make some room. So, you did. And not far behind her, Gojo walked over to your desk and dropped into the chair next to you, without sparing you a glance.

Great!

You hadn’t even spoken a word to the boy and he was already giving you the cold shoulder. 

Either oblivious to Gojo’s distant nature or blatantly choosing to overlook it, Ms. Ayase—pleased with her seating arrangements—gave you an approving nod before she walked back to the front of the classroom to begin her lesson.

Amid her teaching, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at Gojo inconspicuously. He was an odd case, and you wanted to take a crack at breaking down his stony exterior. You don’t mind being the first to extend an olive branch to kickstart the beginning of a hopefully new friendship.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper so you wouldn’t disturb the flow of other students who tried to learn. First-day jitters get the best of everyone and you had wanted to give this Gojo Satoru kid a chance to at least be acquainted with you before you start to form your own opinions on him. 

You were doing a good thing. You were being a friend, a great one at that. That’s what any new transfer would want on their first day at a new school, right?

Well...

It came as a shock to you that upon hearing your voice, you caught how Gojo’s gaze slowly shifted from his scattered notes and childish cartoon-like sketches to forcefully land on you as if you were doing him a disservice at trying to be friendly.

The kind smile that had graced your lips before his unrelenting stare now turned sour and awkward. 

His expression wasn’t mean, but it certainly wasn’t friendly either. Just… blank. And the more he stared, surveying you, probably looking down on you and your attempts to befriend him, the more annoyed you became.

Yeah, never mind.

What was his damage?!

Never have you ever met a child so strange.

With your lips twisted into a faint sneer and your brows bunched tightly together, you exhaled a vexed hmph at Gojo’s less-than-pleasant attitude and shot your eyes back to Ms. Ayase— who was now scribbling a bunch of numbers and diagrams onto the blackboard. You even shunt your seat a few spaces away from him to show your disfavour.

You simply concluded that getting to know let alone, befriending Gojo Satoru may not be in the cards for you… ever.

Every day you thanked your lucky stars for the handy dandy custodian, Mr. Taro, who had fast-tracked the delivery of your sworn enemy’s (which was one-sided)  desk within the next few days after his arrival.

You no longer had to worry yourself sick every morning on the walk to school about brushing shoulders and sharing textbooks with your classmate, Gojo Satoru. 

That had been a whole five months ago, though, and you now only had a week left of your summer break before your second semester would begin. Since the very first day you met him, you’ve watched Gojo grow into the role of your class’s star student. 

He was everyone’s first choice for P.E. if there were teams for the games you’d play, and he was invited to everyone’s birthday party. Anyone who managed to prompt a conversation that lasted more than a few minutes with Gojo was determined to be one of the lucky ones. It was a known fact that everyone at school wanted to be his friend.

Well… almost everyone.

Tired of swinging on the swings, you launched yourself off the play set and into a pile of woodchips that cushioned the land onto your feet. The sun crept lower on the horizon, painting the sky with warm oranges and blues. You remembered your mom having told you that you were expected to come home before dinner. 

Your buddy, Momo, had walked home from the neighbourhood park long before you, and seeing that you had nothing else to do, you decided to start your short trek home.

“Time to go,” you said to no one in particular. You walked over to your bag that was thrown haphazardly on one of the picnic tables and swung it over to slink your arms through each strap.

Unbeknownst to you, you must’ve forgotten to zip up your backpack completely earlier, prompting most of your bag’s contents to spill across the pavement.

You grunted in aggravation. “Jeez,” you growled to yourself, as you scooped up the scattered pencils and trading cards you had packed into your hands in a crabby fashion. There must’ve been at least 15 of these cards that you needed to gather.

After spending maybe a good two minutes picking up your things and wiping the dirt off them, right as you reached for your last trading card a huge gust of wind accosted you and blew the cards up and into the air. 

“Hey!” you exclaimed in shock. With great dread and an air of urgency, you shoved the rest of your belongings into your bag and chased after your runaway card.

You yelled and hollered down the sidewalks of your quiet neighbourhood thankful for the most part that it was vacant. God forbid if someone you knew from school saw you running and screaming bloody murder over a damn trading card. “Stop!” 

This was the kind of chase scene you’d seen play out in a children’s TV show with the obnoxious laugh track faintly playing in the back. To say you were mortified at your predicament would be an understatement.

The card having a mind of its own took a sharp turn around a corner, and you not far behind followed it. Unfortunately, unaware that there could be another being behind that very corner, your sharp turn wound you to bump into someone’s back. Hard.

You let out an audible oomph right as you tumbled onto the ground. 

Well, there goes one of your most prized possessions. You knew it was a bad idea to bring your high-ranking cards to the park, but nooo, Momo wanted to see them before her family trip to Hakone before school started.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You groaned and swiped a frustrated hand against your eyes as that nipping, uncomfortable feeling that you just lost your favourite card. 

Do not cry. You scolded yourself, as you pressed your fist harder against your eyes as the familiar heat of tears began to prick at your waterline. Not over a card. Especially in front of a stranger.

Reminded that you had company, you quickly rose to your feet again and dusted yourself off as if nothing had happened. “Sorry,” you said with your head down.

You sidestepped around the person, ready to make your dejected walk home with now 14 cards in tow.

Things couldn’t have gotten any worse is what you thought until you heard the “stranger” behind you make their presence known.

“You like Digimon?”

Oh God. 

When you turned to see your worst-case scenario personified, there in his hand, was your only Skullgreymon Digimon collector’s edition card in all its glory.

You’re half happy— because your card managed to be saved— and half-mortified— because your card managed to be saved by public enemy number one, Gojo Satoru.

Immediately, you decided to skip the formalities and extended your arm to snatch your card away from your hero-turned-villain. But you’re not quick enough.

“You like Digimon?” Gojo repeated, this time with more volume in his voice. The hand that held your dear Skullgreymon swivelled behind his back to keep it far from your range.

This was the most you’ve heard him speak (to you, that is). You tried not to let the wonderment of this event cloud over the fact that Gojo had something that belonged to you and kept you from taking it. 

“Yes,” you grunted and took one step forward in an attempt to grab your card again to no avail. “I do.”

Gojo blinked at you, his snowy white lashes fluttered with thoughtful consideration. When Gojo isn’t giving you blank stares or expressions that practically screamed he was judging you, you think he could be quite nice. You think.

 “Me too,” he finally said.

“... Okay.” you said, because what else are you supposed to say!?

Gauging that Gojo was in no hurry to give you back Skullgreymon anytime soon, your arm fell limp at your side and you huffed in defeat. 

You expected him to follow his confession with something else, but instead, the two of you stood on the side of the sidewalk in silence. This went on far longer than you would have liked for it to have gone. 

Gojo’s blue eyes bore into your soul with a look of expectation that stretched across his features, as he thumbed the back of your sparkly card behind him.

Your gaze diverted away from him and glanced at the slow start of a darkening sky, which was your indicator that you really needed to get home soon. But you’d be damned if you left without Skullgreymon!

Chancing a glimpse back at Gojo, his face is unreadable and serious in all its intensity. His eyebrows you were so used to seeing in straight impassive lines were now creased tight with confusion and… annoyance?

That’s when it struck you that he was waiting for you to say something!

Oh, so now he wanted you to extend the olive branch? Funny! Hilarious, even! 

No shot.

You snorted and answered his unspoken open invitation and question to play with a curt shake of your head, “Give me back my—”

“I don’t have any training lessons with my tutor tomorrow,” Gojo replied, cutting you off. You watched with horror as he tucked your card into the front pocket of his black khakis. He even tucked his hands into them to intercede any chance of you swiping it back from him. “Bring more of your cards here in the afternoon and I’ll show you some of mine.”

Without even bothering to wait for your response, let alone agreement, Gojo Satoru turned on his heel and walked his merry self home.

And that very next day you waited at the park, just like he had ordered you to do, brewed to the brim with indignation that Gojo managed to swindle you into leaving your house to meet/play/whatever it was that he wanted to see you for… with him.

Arms crossed tightly against your chest as you pressed yourself against the swingset beam, you waited for Gojo to make his arrival. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long.

“You’re here.” 

Behind you, you spotted Gojo. Today he wore a different set of khakis, all-too-expensive sneakers that were not park material and… a dark blue Digimon tee. Stowed between his arm and side, he carried a black binder, probably decked out with all his Digimon cards.

Just as he had said.

Oh.

There’s a creeping sensation of guilt that bullies your conscience. Maybe you were a tad bit mean yesterday in not being open to meeting up with Gojo because today it seemed like he wanted to make a fair impression on you. 

Maybe today would be the one shot for you guys to get to know each other better.

Noticing your silence that drawled on for too long, you quickly countered with a clipped, “Of course I am!” You nodded your chin at him. “You stole my card!” 

You thought you spotted a ghost of a smile dancing across his lips, but it disappeared as quickly as you must have imagined it.

Gojo flung his binder—you swallowed the urge to tell him to be careful— and sat on the ground.

When you hadn’t immediately followed his lead, Gojo looked up at you incredulously.  “Aren’t you going to sit?”

So, you do. 

You would have been silly to pass up the rare opportunity of talking to Gojo like a normal human being rather than sworn enemies (once again, one-sided on your part).

From that day onward, there was a miraculous shift in the way you interact with your classmates. The shell of the bratty, blunt, and sometimes abrasive nature of Gojo Satoru you once knew him to have was no more.

After summer break when school was back and in session, when Ms. Ayase revealed the new seating chart for the classroom and you discovered you’d only be a desk away from Gojo, you caught the white tuft of his hair whirl to find across the class before he shot you a thumbs up.

But it didn’t stop there. 

No longer did Gojo roll his eyes when you were picked to be on the same team as him during P.E. Instead, if he were captain for one of the games, much to the class’s (and your) surprise, you were almost always chosen first.

He also intruded on the many recess sessions you’d have to play with your friends to urge you to ditch them and start a match of DCG with him. 

This spurred you to learn that Gojo had a grand fixation and bountiful admiration for Digimon— he was (and still) is a class-A nerd when it comes to all things in the Digimon franchise, more so than you.

Things had changed from where it all started in April of 1997. Gojo had changed, and you’d like to say you had to.

Satoru never wound up giving you that card back. But you no longer seemed to care about that, nor his antics. 

Not anymore.

OKAYYYY SHE (me) FINALLY DELIVERED. thank you for reading until the end! if you liked it, please yell at me about it will yell (/pos) right back <333 I HOPE YOU GUYS WILL STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT PARTS OF THIS MINI-SERIES! as it will come soon :) until then DUECES STINKIES!

*EDIT: you know, i think this will be more so a prologue/chapter "0" rather than it being chapter 1...? this is just the bones of this series. nonetheless eeeee, childhood friends to lover trope on TOP. WHO ELSE CHEERED

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, cheating, scandals, drugs, drama, family drama wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. next chapter

“Cash or card?”

“Card.”

The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.

It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 

A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 

As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you��re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 

Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 

“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.

He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 

Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.

You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 

It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 

The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”

Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is next month. There’s gonna be food and music.”

Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”

“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 

And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 

No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 

The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.

He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 

“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.

Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”

“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”

“Do you promise?”

You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”

After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 

Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.

You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.

Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.

It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”

Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”

“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”

When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.

Soon, images of his son, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 

Not now.

You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 

You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.

It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.

This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?

Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.

It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 

Koji.

If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 

I wanna see Papa.

Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.

A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.

For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.

Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.

Gojo Satoru.

The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 

You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in seven years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.

He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.

You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of seventeen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 

You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?

You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.

But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.

Letting him meet his father. 

“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 

The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.

You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”

“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”

He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”

“Good, and you?” 

“Very good.” 

The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 

You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”

Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.

The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”

“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.

“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”

You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”

He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”

Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”

“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”

With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.

Whatever. 

“Pizza or teriyaki?”

“Pizza!”

“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 

“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 

You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 

Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 

Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.

Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”

It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 

“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.

“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.

“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”

He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”

Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been seven years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”

He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 

You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”

“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.

Well…..shit. 

As if things weren’t already complicated.

With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..

“I-is this—”

“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”

Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”

You nod uncomfortably. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”

Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”

“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”

Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?” The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 

“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”

“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”

“Why?”

That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”

Silence. 

You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”

There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”

You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”

Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 

“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”

With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.

Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–

“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”

“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”

But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”

Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”

Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”

“And I like it when you smile with me too.”

Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 

You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.

That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.

But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 

Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 

The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”

“S-satoru!” 

“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”

He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.

He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 

Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 

In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 

“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”

“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”

When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”

Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”

Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”. 

Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 

“For what?”

“It’s important.”

“So just say it now.”

“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”

“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.

“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.

Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”

Once again, she frowns. “But I—”

“Please.” 

His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 

“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”

“That woman is not sweet.” 

Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 

A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”

“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”

Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”

Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”

Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”

“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.

Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”

“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”

“Are you now?”

“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”

A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out. “Who?” Satoru ends up asks.

His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”

Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 

“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”

a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)

[kinzhae]

"Unrequited Love"

Reader has been in love with Satoru Gojo for years, but Satoru is oblivious and more focused on someone else. As reader grows closer to Suguru Geto, Satoru becomes jealous and realizes his feelings for reader. Eventually, Satoru confesses his love.

Gojo x Reader, High-school au!, more of a oc?, angst? , comfort, fluff, special ending, unrequited love, jealous gojo.

"Whats going on between you and suguru?"

The classroom was noisy, filled with the dull hum of chatter and the occasional clatter of a pencil hitting the floor. You sat hunched over your notebook, diligently jotting down notes as the teacher droned on about formulas that seemed to stretch endlessly across the blackboard. Next to you, Satoru lounged in his chair, barely paying attention.

But he wasn’t looking at the equations.

You didn’t have to glance up to know where his gaze was locked—it was the same place it had been for weeks now. You could feel it, the way his attention was entirely absorbed by her. The girl across the room with the soft laugh and the fluttering lashes, the one who had unknowingly—or maybe knowingly—captured his heart.

“She’s so perfect…” Satoru muttered, his voice barely audible but weighted with adoration.

Your pen faltered mid-sentence. You swallowed hard, gripping the pen tighter as you forced yourself to keep writing. His words echoed in your head, their impact much sharper than they should’ve been.

Your best friend. Seven years of laughter, secrets, and late-night conversations—and now, this.

You risked a glance at him. Satoru’s lips were curved into a smile, one so uncharacteristically soft that it sent a pang through your chest. He looked at her like she was the only person in the room. She must have felt his stare because she turned slightly, catching his eye and giggling before quickly looking away.

They were a perfect match, weren’t they? She was sweet, charming, and undeniably pretty. And you? You were just...there.

People joked about you and Satoru all the time, shipping the two of you as if it was some kind of game. "You two are inseparable," they’d say, laughter bubbling up like they were stating the obvious. But every time, Satoru would brush it off with a smirk and a wave of his hand.

“As if,” he’d scoff. “We’re just friends.”

Just friends.

You pressed the pen harder against the page, the ink bleeding into a dark spot as the words blurred in front of you. It wasn’t fair, how much space he occupied in your heart when yours barely registered in his.

“Hey,” Satoru whispered, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

You blinked and turned to him, hoping your expression didn’t betray the ache in your chest. “What?”

“Do you think she likes me back?” he asked, his voice tinged with excitement. His eyes sparkled with the kind of enthusiasm he used to reserve for teasing you about your messy handwriting or begging you to share your snacks.

You hesitated, the lump in your throat growing. She already liked him. It was obvious to everyone, even to you, who had tried so hard not to see it. The stolen glances, the way she laughed just a little too hard at his jokes, the way she seemed to linger around him whenever she got the chance.

“Probably,” you muttered, barely audible. You stared at the scribbled notes in front of you, your vision blurring slightly.

Satoru’s grin widened, and he leaned back in his chair with an almost triumphant look. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said, his voice buzzing with confidence. “I mean, who wouldn’t like me, right?”

You forced a small laugh, the sound hollow to your own ears. “Right,” you murmured, keeping your eyes glued to the page.

He didn’t notice, of course. He was too busy stealing glances at her again, his mind already worlds away from the person sitting next to him.

The rest of the class dragged on, every second feeling heavier than the last. You kept your head down, pouring all your focus into your notes as if they could distract you from the weight in your chest. But it didn’t help. Not when you could still hear the faint sighs of admiration slipping from Satoru’s lips, not when you could still feel his excitement radiating next to you.

When the bell finally rang, you shoved your notebook into your bag with shaky hands, eager to escape. “I’ll see you later,” you said quickly, not waiting for his response as you stood and made your way toward the door.

“Wait—hey, where are you going?” Satoru called after you, but you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t.

You weaved through the crowded hallway, your head down as you tried to push the thoughts away. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt invisible next to him, and it wouldn’t be the last. But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

By the time you reached the quiet corner of the library, your usual hideout, the tears were already threatening to spill. You slumped into a chair and buried your face in your hands, letting out a shaky breath.

It wasn’t fair. Loving Satoru wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

You thought back to all the times he’d been there for you, his playful grin and easygoing attitude lighting up even your darkest days. You’d fallen for him so gradually, so deeply, that you hadn’t even realized it until it was too late. And now, you were stuck watching him fall for someone else—someone who could give him the kind of happiness you never could.

The thought sent a fresh wave of pain through you, but you swallowed it down. You couldn’t cry here. Not now.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped your eyes and opened your notebook again. If Satoru was happy, that should’ve been enough for you. It had to be.

But as you sat there, staring blankly at the page, a small, bitter part of you wondered if it ever really would be.

The quiet of the library was broken by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. You glanced up, startled, and found none other than Suguru Geto sitting across from you. His usual calm demeanor was intact, but his sharp eyes were fixed on you with an intensity that made you squirm.

“Skipping out on Gojo?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. His voice was low, almost teasing, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity behind it.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to say. Suguru was one of the few people who knew Satoru as well as you did, maybe even better. If anyone could read between the lines, it was him.

“Not skipping,” you mumbled, looking back down at your notebook. “Just needed some air.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Air? In a library?” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

Your pen faltered again, and you let out a quiet sigh, the weight of the day pressing down on you. “Why are you here, Suguru?”

“To check on you,” he said simply.

You blinked, surprised. “Why?”

“Because you looked like you were about to fall apart back there,” Suguru replied, his voice softer now. “And because I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way you look at Satoru.”

Your heart sank, the words hitting harder than you expected. You opened your mouth to deny it, but Suguru cut you off with a small wave of his hand.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “It’s written all over your face. Has been for a while.”

You looked away, the embarrassment and pain swirling together in your chest. “It doesn’t matter,” you muttered. “He’s in love with her.”

Suguru didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he sat back in his chair, studying you with a thoughtful expression. “You know, for someone as sharp as you, you’re pretty stupid sometimes.”

You frowned, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Listen,” Suguru said, leaning forward again. “I’m not saying Satoru doesn’t have a thing for her. He clearly does. But do you honestly think he’d brush you off if you told him how you felt?”

The question caught you off guard, and you stared at him, speechless.

Suguru sighed, shaking his head. “You’re his best friend, you idiot. He cares about you more than you realize. Maybe even more than he realizes.”

A bitter laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “That’s the problem. I’m just his best friend. Nothing more.”

Suguru’s expression softened, and he gave you a small, almost sad smile. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re too scared to find out if that’s really true.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken possibilities. You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down, a part of you wondered if he was right.

Before you could respond, Suguru stood, pushing his chair back with an easy grace. “Think about it,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “And if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.”

You watched him leave, your heart still racing from the conversation. Suguru had always been perceptive, but you hadn’t expected him to see through you so easily.

As you sat there, the notebook in front of you forgotten, his words echoed in your mind.

The days following your conversation with Suguru were...different. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but you found yourself gravitating toward him more often. Maybe it was the way he seemed to genuinely understand you, or maybe it was the subtle kindness in his words, the quiet reassurance that you weren’t as invisible as you felt.

Suguru didn’t pry after that day in the library, but he didn’t pull away either. Instead, he started seeking you out during lunch, sitting next to you in class when Satoru was distracted, and walking you halfway home with casual ease.

At first, it felt strange—foreign even—to have someone’s attention focused on you so completely. But as time went on, you began to relax around him. Suguru’s presence was calming, a stark contrast to Satoru’s endless energy.

You weren’t the only one who noticed the shift.

Satoru was glaring. Not at you, not even at Suguru directly, but it was clear as day. His usual cocky grin was replaced by a tight-lipped expression every time he caught you and Suguru talking.

“Yo,” Satoru called one afternoon, sliding into the seat beside you in class with an exaggerated stretch. “What’s up with you and Suguru lately?”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden question. “What do you mean?”

Satoru tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’ve been hanging out with him a lot. More than usual.”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “We’re just talking. He’s been helping me out with some stuff.”

“Stuff?” Satoru echoed, his tone sharp. “Since when do you need him for stuff?”

Your chest tightened at the accusation in his voice, and you frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? Suguru’s been a good friend.”

Satoru opened his mouth to retort but stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he looked away. “Nothing. Forget it.”

The awkward tension settled between you, a stark contrast to the easy banter you used to share.

It wasn’t long before Satoru’s irritation bubbled over.

One afternoon, as you and Suguru walked out of the classroom together, Satoru intercepted you in the hallway.

“Hey,” he said, his tone light but forced. His eyes flicked to Suguru, and the tightness in his smile was unmistakable. “Mind if I steal my best friend for a sec?”

Suguru glanced at you, a knowing look passing between you two, before nodding. “Sure. I’ll catch you later.”

The moment Suguru walked away, Satoru turned to you, his expression unreadable.

“What’s going on with you two?” he asked, his voice low.

“What do you mean?” you replied, folding your arms defensively.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Satoru shot back. “Since when are you and Suguru so...close?”

You felt a flicker of frustration. “Why does it matter?”

“It matters because—” He stopped abruptly, running a hand through his hair. “It just does, okay?”

“Why?” you pressed, your voice trembling slightly. “Because you don’t want me to be close to someone else? Because you’re afraid someone might actually notice me?”

Satoru flinched, as if your words had struck a nerve.

“It’s not like that,” he said, his tone softer now. “I just... I don’t want to lose you.”

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard, and you stared at him, your frustration slowly giving way to confusion.

“Lose me?” you echoed.

Satoru looked away, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. “You’re my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do if things changed between us.”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to them than he was letting on.

“Things are already changing,” you said quietly. “You just didn’t notice until now.”

Satoru’s gaze snapped back to yours, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Fear? Regret? Maybe even jealousy?

Whatever it was, it made your heart ache all over again.

“Satoru…” You hesitated, unsure of what to say. “I’m not going anywhere. But you don’t get to act like this just because someone else is paying attention to me.”

His expression wavered, and for the first time in a long while, Satoru Gojo didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, he just stood there, his silence speaking volumes.

And for the first time, you realized that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t as indifferent as he seemed.

Time passed, and your relationship with Suguru settled into something steady and comforting. He became your anchor, a quiet presence who never pried too deeply but always seemed to know when you needed someone to talk to—or when you just needed silence.

But the more time you spent with Suguru, the more obvious it became that whatever existed between you two was purely platonic. Suguru didn’t treat you any differently than he treated others he cared about. His kindness wasn’t exclusive; it was simply who he was. And, honestly, that was okay.

What wasn’t okay, however, was the growing tension between you and Satoru.

Every interaction with him felt charged, as though there were unspoken words hanging in the air, threatening to break free. He was quieter around you lately, more subdued than you’d ever seen him. It wasn’t the Satoru you knew, the one who filled every room he entered with a boundless energy that couldn’t be ignored.

And yet, he never stopped looking at you.

You caught him staring more often than not, his usually bright eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite decipher. You tried to ignore it, brushing off the way your stomach twisted every time you felt his gaze linger.

Until one day, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

---

It was late after school, the sun dipping low in the sky as you packed your things. Most of the students had already left, but you’d stayed behind to finish an assignment. Suguru had offered to walk you home, but you insisted you’d be fine.

As you slung your bag over your shoulder and stepped into the empty hallway, you nearly bumped into Satoru.

“Whoa,” he said, his hands shooting out to steady you. “Careful.”

“Satoru?” you blinked, surprised. “What are you still doing here?”

“I was waiting for you,” he admitted, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Your brow furrowed. “Waiting for me? Why?”

He hesitated, his hands slipping into his pockets as he looked away. “Can we talk?”

The weight in his voice made your heart skip a beat. You nodded slowly. “Okay.”

He led you outside, where the cool evening air wrapped around you both. You walked a short distance to a bench under a tree, the silence between you stretching uncomfortably.

Finally, Satoru broke it. “I don’t know how to say this,” he began, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. “But I can’t keep it in anymore.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. “Satoru, what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath, his blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. “I’ve been an idiot,” he said. “I’ve been so focused on other things—on other people—that I didn’t realize what was right in front of me.”

Your breath hitched, and you opened your mouth to speak, but he continued before you could.

“I didn’t realize how much you mean to me,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “And I’m scared I’ve already screwed it up. But I need you to know—” He paused, his hands clenching into fists. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. You stared at him, stunned, your mind racing.

Satoru looked down, his usual bravado completely gone. “I know I don’t deserve it, not after how I’ve acted. But I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine.”

For a moment, you were silent, the weight of his confession settling over you.

“Satoru…” you finally said, your voice soft. “Why now?”

He looked up, his eyes filled with something you’d never seen before—vulnerability. “Because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you,” he said. “Not to Suguru, not to anyone. I was jealous, and it made me realize how much I care about you. Not as a friend. As...as something more.”

Your heart swelled and ached all at once, the emotions swirling within you almost too much to bear.

“Satoru,” you said again, your voice trembling. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

His eyes widened, hope flickering in their depths. “You mean…?”

“I love you too,” you admitted, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I have for a long time.”

Relief and joy washed over his face, and he let out a shaky laugh. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he said, reaching for your hands.

You let him take them, his touch warm and familiar. And in that moment, it felt like all the pain, all the waiting, had been worth it.

Satoru Gojo wasn’t perfect—far from it. But as he looked at you with more love than you’d ever thought possible, you realized that he was everything you’d ever wanted.

Special:

The warmth of Suguru’s laughter filled the quiet park, the three of you lounging on a patch of soft grass under the shade of a massive tree. It had become a tradition to meet here after long days at school, a space where you could escape the world and just exist together.

Satoru was sprawled out on his back, one arm shielding his eyes from the sun, while Suguru sat cross-legged, his usual calm and collected demeanor on full display. You were sandwiched between them, leaning back on your hands, the breeze tugging gently at your hair.

“I don’t get it,” Satoru grumbled, sitting up abruptly and running a hand through his messy white hair. “Why does he always get the compliments?” He jabbed a finger at Suguru, who raised an eyebrow in mock amusement.

“Maybe because I’m more charming,” Suguru replied, his voice smooth and teasing.

“Charming, my ass,” Satoru scoffed. “You’re just taller. People fall for that whole ‘mysterious guy’ thing you’ve got going on.”

“Ah, so you’re admitting they don’t fall for you?” Suguru quipped, smirking.

You couldn’t help but laugh at their bickering. It was always like this—playful jabs, exaggerated arguments, and you caught somewhere in the middle. But today, there was an ease in the air that made it all feel special, like the world had melted away, leaving just the three of you.

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted, raising your hands to placate them. “Let’s not start a war over who’s more likable.”

“Too late,” Satoru said, his blue eyes gleaming mischievously as he nudged you with his shoulder. “You’re the tiebreaker. Who’s better—me or Suguru?”

Suguru chuckled softly, leaning back on his elbows. “Careful, Y/N. Your answer might just end a friendship.”

You rolled your eyes, used to their antics by now. “I’m not picking between you two,” you said firmly, though the smile on your face betrayed your amusement. “You’re both equally annoying.”

Satoru gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Annoying? Me? Impossible.”

Suguru shook his head, his grin widening. “She’s not wrong, though.”

Before Satoru could retort, you added, “But you’re also my favorite people in the world. So stop fishing for compliments.”

The sincerity in your voice seemed to catch them both off guard. Satoru’s teasing expression softened, and Suguru gave you a small, genuine smile.

“Careful,” Suguru said after a moment, his tone light but his gaze warm. “You’re going to make us emotional.”

“Too late,” Satoru said, leaning over to sling an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N’s stuck with us for life, whether she likes it or not.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t shrug him off. “Like I could get rid of you two even if I tried.”

The three of you sat there for a while longer, the teasing giving way to a comfortable silence. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the park, and you found yourself wishing that moments like this could last forever.

Because no matter how chaotic or complicated life got, being with Suguru and Satoru always felt like home.

[aettuddae]

HONEYCOMB — chapter 1.

— summer, 2004.

꩜ synopsis: the lavier-choi's, a french-korean family from seoul's elite that runs an electric vehicle production business, has been preparing to face a looming economic crisis that could crumble their empire, and it all takes a turn for the worse when, unexpectedly, their patriarch, who headed the company, suddenly passes away. at the news and her mother's desperate call, albany, the eldest daughter, is forced to abandon her life in paris representing france as a professional fencer and return to her homeland to face her mom's old-fashioned whims in order to help the family. amidst all the frenzy, the only positive thing she finds is that, after years, she will be reunited with her siblings and all the friends she grew up with, especially the yu family from across the street.

masterlist | next

there are certain things that, as time goes by, you stop questioning. after your twenty-somethings it doesn't really matter what your favorite color is, or that kind of trivia you learn to ask as a child to start a conversation, there are different things to worry about, serious, adult things, like how you position yourself politically or whether you have a place of your own to live and grow old in, or what names you have in mind for your children. it's because of this abrupt reality in which she lived that the question of what her favorite season was hadn't come up in albany's head for years.

if she had to devote any of her time to that dilemma, perhaps now, at 28, she would choose fall. summer in paris was chaotic and as the years went by it seemed to get hotter and hotter, meanwhile winter was gray and depressing. fall was fine, damp at times, but still quiet and cozy at the end.

what she could be sure of was that as a kid she told everyone how much she loved summer.

in all honesty, everyone she knew in her hometown hated summer in korea. it has all the hallmarks of the worst summers you can think of, but albany used to love it.

when the vacations started, her parents would take them to spend it at the family villa in namyangju, it had been one of the many traditions they had for as long as she could remember.

two years before minho was born, the choi parents had bought this big house in gyeonggi, in the middle of the mountain and close to the river, in order to create memories with their children while they took refuge away from all the noise and frenzy of seoul.

of course, the chaos was still with them, it was just a different kind. as albany began to grow up and become more aware of her surroundings, she began to doubt that her mother as elegant, delicate and whiny as she was would have agreed to spend the wettest time of the year surrounded by nature, water and bugs. each year was accompanied by her squealing and annoyances that her father, an adventurer and lover of anything that required physical prowess, was unaffected by, as he was always on the move, ready to set off to embark on a new activity.

summers in namyangju were not relaxing, they were an annual survival camp.

and albany loved it that way, for most choi children had inherited, to a greater or lesser degree, their father's fearless nature. it was fun, it was exciting, for a moment she felt like one of those forest fauns she loved to read about and not the millionaires' daughter with a monotonous predictable life that she really was.

one of the things she loved most was hiking in the mountains, walks on which she always found fruits. her father had taught her about some that could be eaten and some that couldn't, and then she deciphered the others, as well as plants she learned to identify. she took them back to the house where she gave them to the chef to use, and by watching that lady she learned to replicate those recipes.

time also brought her minjeong, who even with that small body ate what sunwoo wouldn't consume in a week and loved the raspberry pie albany made. the little girl was not a good friend of nature, she tried, but it seemed that the outside world was too rough for her little legs still lacking in strength, so every summer, that her parents spent in the namyangju village of her best friends the choi's, she spent eating the dishes that the blonde-haired french girl had learned to make over the years.

thinking about her family also included thinking about the yu's, her parents' best friends who had such separation anxiety that they bought houses just one street away to spend all their life together. her father, choi junmin, had met yu suwon when they were both in high school and from there their friendship only thrived.

summers were spent with the yu's, christmases were spent with the yu's, the meaningless days of the dullest weeks of the year were spent with the yu's. of course the adults were always busy, but the children had been forced to fraternize to such an extent that they too became accustomed to it.

albany didn't know a life where she didn't cook for minjeong, even when she grew older, every time she returned to paris after a few days back home, she found herself baking raspberry pie with no one to offer it to. she couldn't go that long without making her angry or chatting with her about all the fantastic things they thought inhabited the universe apart from humans.

and then, there was jimin. albany didn't know a life without yu jimin.

her best friend in the whole world, her partner in adventure. the girl who climbed out of her window late at night just to talk until they both fell asleep, who had accompanied her to her first gala and who also went with her when she escaped from it. jimin who was there when her last baby tooth fell out and when she had to help her furnish her apartment when she had just moved to france. who used to accompany her to look for elves and who gave her her first 'spiderwick chronicles' book. in all her important moments, jimin had been there and vice versa, her first crushes, kisses, partners, her academic and personal frustrations, her achievements, albany's first fencing tournament, jimin's CSATs and the moment she found out she had gotten into the college she wanted.

when they started to get along, albany was a little older, always going everywhere with wendy and minho, but she didn't really talk to many other people who understood her impatient need, as an eight-year-old girl, to find a fairy among the flora of namyangju, so for three summers in a row, she kept running around, disappearing into the trees and bushes by herself.

until one day, in late july 2004, she wandered farther than usual from the house, finding herself at the entrance to a grove. albany was choi junmin's daughter, she had no reason to be scared, so with a firm step she headed for the logs, ready to catch this fairy she claimed she had seen a week ago, but who kept running away. the problem was that albany was not minho, so she was not completely junmin. she was also her mother eveline's daughter and she carried some of her fearful, sedentary genes in her, so when she saw a figure in the distance that was shorter than her, hunched over and with big ears, she froze in fear. she didn't dare go to capture it or attack it as her older brother would have done, she just stood static, keeping silent so the being wouldn't notice she was there. she crept away until she shot out of the trees and ran back to her family as fast as when she was playing soccer with the neanderthal she had for a brother.

but she couldn't leave it at that, she had found a strange creature in the foliage, she had to go back to investigate what it was, and if it was an evil entity, she had to make sure it didn't attack her siblings. so every day for a week, little albany went back to the same place, ready to face whatever that thing was, which was always waiting for her in that exact position she found it on. but she would freeze, couldn't get close, and ended up returning terrified and frustrated to the house.

one afternoon, now in early august, she returned to the grove. it was the same scenario that had been repeating itself lately, and the same reaction on her part. try as she might, she couldn't get her body to move in the direction of the critter that was standing there. disappointed in herself again, albany turned on her heels ready to go back to where everyone was. she was no longer running from fear, yes, she was still scared, but now she was just walking back crestfallen, berating herself for not being able to face the forest monster. but she couldn't run away that day.

"why you always come here?" a high pitched voice made her jump in place in surprise, followed by a terror running down her spine at the thought that perhaps the creature had heard the girl or her outrage.

"what are you doing here, jimin?" the older girl asked altered, rushing towards the newcomer to get her away from what she thought was dangerous.

"i followed you." she confessed, wriggling out of the blonde's grip and taking a few steps towards where her gaze used to be fixed, in seconds reaching much farther than choi ever had.

"viens ici!" —come here —. she whisper-shouted, rushing over to pull her away.

"what you do here?" the little girl spoke in vaguely understandable words. she had always been intelligent for her age, but she was missing a few teeth, making it difficult for her to enunciate.

"jimin, you can't be here." she took her arm and tried to walk in the opposite direction, but she got away easily.

"are you doing something bad?" an excited giggle accompanied her assumption, she wanted to be a part of it.

"no." she folded her arms. "it's dangerous."

jimin's eyes suddenly expanded and her posture shifted to a rigid one, her pupils probed the area for the threat. she brought her gaze upward, to albany's face, who because of the age difference was quite a bit taller, she looked uneasy. "what happens?" she muttered.

the older one just raised her arm and with her finger pointed to the figure that hadn't moved all week, leading the blackhaired's attention to it, who after analyzing it for a moment squinting her eyes trying to make sense of it, just said with a discouraging tone, "that short thing?"

"how dare you?" albany reproached in agitation. "it's small because it's a gremlin." she reported in a very low tone.

"what?"

"a gremlin." she repeated in the same volume.

"kremin." she tried to echo.

"gremlin."

"kemin." she failed again.

"nevermind." she dismissed. "they're little creatures that make mischief." she explained, holding the subsequent silence for a moment to look up and down at the eldest of the yu sisters. "just like you." she joked, causing jimin to squeal in annoyance and start hiting her shoulder. "se calmer, calm down!" she took advantage of the girl's closeness after her tantrum to tug at her clothes and hide behind a trunk with her. "it might hear us." she warned.

"you're bigger." observed the younger girl.

"and?"

"you can step on it." she assured.

albany contemplated it for a second, but her foot wasn't big nor her leg strong enough, so she shook her head. "i can't." she looked down in defeat. "gremlins are mean." she explained.

jimin turned to look at the taller one, crossed her arms resting her elbow on top of the other and bringing her fingers to her chin to hold it between her thumb and forefinger while emitting a steady 'mmm' sound that indicated she was thinking. "you and i." she pointed to the opposite and then to herself. "there are two of us and he is one."

"what about that?" replied choi confused.

"it can't beat us." assured the girl hurrying to walk in the direction of the creature, sure that albany was coming behind.

jimin walked with confident steps as her eyes scanned the ground for something, while the older one followed closely behind, her body bent over as if she wanted to use the smaller girl as a shield, anxiously letting out strings of words quickly trying to convince her to stop, but jimin was mischievous, the kind of child you would find hanging from the top of a tree without knowing how she got there, she didn't listen and when something got into her head, she wouldn't stop until she did it.

the older yu bent over to the ground to pick something, straightening up with a long branch held in her small fist and raising it in front of her with a proud smile to show it to albany.

"what's that?" the blonde inquired, still terrified.

"a sword!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"be quiet!" she took quick steps to her to catch her face and cover her mouth with her hand. "that's not a sword." she said softly.

"yes it is." she reiterated when she was allowed to speak and immediately gave albany a gentle whack on the forehead with the stick, pushing her away. "we will kill it with the sword." she reaffirmed.

jimin, again, slipped out of the blonde's grasp and dashed towards the gremlin with her branch ready to finish it off. "jimin, soyez prudents!" —be careful —. albany could be heard chasing after her quickly to stop her, but by the time she was close, jimin had already struck the creature with her so-called sword.

they both stopped suddenly, confused as they saw a large pile of leaves scatter in the air after being hit by the small yu and fall to the ground around the small trunk that seconds before they swore was an evil individual that was going to attack them.

"it's a tree." realized albany in embarrassment, realizing that her gremlin was just the base of a tree with some grasses around it that were tall and wide enough to look like ears, and the leaves that jimin had swept away created a hair-like shape.

"i don't think so!" denied the younger girl in a confident tone and impacted the trunk with the branch again. "yes it is." agreed when nothing happened.

"i got scared for nothing." lamented the blonde, annoyed with herself, and dropped down, sitting on the grass beneath her, an action that jimin copied. "thanks for helping me, though." she added after a few minutes without saying anything.

"it's nothing." she gave her a big smile without many teeth. "i protected you like a knight." she commented confidently.

"you don't look like a knight." she refuted with a laugh. "you're pretty and small." jimin furrowed her eyebrows and gave her a displeased sideways glance, she didn't like being called small. "you're more like a fairy." she corrected.

"then," she thought. "i'll be a fairy who protects you." she nodded her head, confirming her words. "what do you think, abany?" she had trouble pronouncing the letter L, so the name came out funnily.

"it's albany." she emphasized the letter she had missed.

"abany." she tried again.

"no, that's not it."

"bany." she sentenced. "what do you think, bany?"

"fine." she agreed. "you will be my guardian fairy." she put her hand on the top of her head, rubbing it and messing up her hair, but jimin stopped her by tapping her wrist with the branch she used as a sword. "can i borrow your sword?" she asked looking at the object.

"i'll teach you to use it." she smiled sideways.

and ever since that confrontation with a gremlin in the summer vacation of 2004, albany choi has not existed without yu jimin.

(!)

taglist [OPEN] : @cwpiqwon

[rafedarling]

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞

request: open

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: new parents and beloved hollywood couple drew and you take to the jimmy kimmel live stage to discuss yours latest movie project together, which releases in may. between balancing new parenthood and demanding film schedules, you two finds yourself sharing a funny, heartfelt stories about life on set with their baby girl, emma starkey. a viral behind-the-scenes video brings laughter to the show, as you discuss how parenting has influenced your lives and careers. based on today drew interview with jimmy kimmel live interview.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, humorous parenting moments, discussions of balancing work and family life.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy

gif: rafedarling

“Ladies and gentlemen, our next guests are not only Hollywood’s favorite power couple but also the stars of the highly anticipated romantic-action film Against All Odds, which hits theaters this May. And if that’s not enough, they’ve recently stepped into the chaotic world of parenthood with their baby girl, Emma. Please welcome Drew Starkey and Y/N!”

You can hear the audience roared with applause as Jimmy Kimmel welcomed his next guests.

You and Drew walked out hand in hand, smiling and waving to the audience. Drew’s free hand rested on your back as he guided you to the guest couch. The applause was deafening, with some cheers and whistles peppered in. You laughed as Jimmy gestured to quiet the audience.

“Wow,” Jimmy said, shaking his head.

“You guys have the crowd in a frenzy. I mean, Hollywood’s hottest couple and now officially parents? Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at the crowd. “It’s been a crazy year.”

“Yeah,” Drew chimed in, “between the movie and the baby, I’m not even sure what sleep feels like anymore.”

The audience laughed, and Jimmy leaned forward.

“Okay, we have to start with the most important question: How’s parenthood treating you? You’ve got a baby girl, Emma. How’s life with a newborn?”

Drew chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s… humbling, to say the least. Being a first-time parent is no joke. I don’t think I could survive it without this one,” he said, nodding toward you.

You playfully nudged him. “Oh, stop it. You’re doing great.”

Jimmy smiled. “Okay, Y/N, your turn. How’s life as a mom?”

“It’s amazing,” you said, your voice softening.

“I mean, it’s exhausting, but Emma’s such a sweet baby. Watching her grow and discover the world makes all the sleepless nights worth it.”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “Sleepless nights? Drew, are you pulling your weight with those 3 a.m. feedings and diaper changes?”

Drew grinned, holding up his hands defensively.

“Absolutely. I’ve mastered the art of the one-handed diaper change. My record is forty-three seconds.”

The audience erupted in laughter, and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s not lying. But let’s not forget the time you forgot to put the diaper on at all.”

The crowd gasped with laughter as Drew shook his head, groaning.

“Okay, in my defense, I was running on two hours of sleep. And the burp cloth worked just fine… temporarily.”

Jimmy laughed, slapping the desk. “You’re officially a dad now, Drew. Forgetting a diaper is like a rite of passage.”

Drew nodded solemnly. “It’s a learning curve.”

Jimmy turned his attention back to you. “Now, let’s talk about Against All Odds. The trailer has everyone excited. What can you tell us about the movie?”

You leaned forward slightly.

“It’s a romantic-action film about two rival spies played by Drew and me who are forced to work together on a mission to stop a global threat. Of course, things get complicated when they realize they have a shared past.”

“Ah, a little romance, a little action,” Jimmy said. “And a lot of explosions, I’m guessing?”

“Definitely,” Drew said.

“The stunts in this film are insane. We’ve got car chases, hand-to-hand combat, and this one sequence where Y/N literally jumps out of a helicopter.”

The audience gasped, and Jimmy’s jaw dropped.

“Wait, wait. You’re telling me Y/N did her own stunts?”

You shrugged with a smile. “Most of them, yeah. The helicopter scene was terrifying, but the adrenaline rush was worth it.”

Jimmy turned to Drew. “And how did you feel about your wife jumping out of a helicopter while pregnant?”

“Oh, that scene was filmed before we knew about Emma,” Drew said quickly.

“But I still worried about her constantly. Every time she’d do a stunt, I’d be off to the side like, ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’”

You laughed. “He was basically my personal cheerleader-slash-bodyguard.”

Jimmy shook his head, smiling. “And Y/N, how was filming while pregnant? Did the crew make accommodations for you?”

“They were amazing,” you said.

“They adjusted the schedule so that I could rest when I needed to, and they made sure I always had plenty of snacks on set.”

“Snacks were essential,” Drew added. “She had a bag of trail mix with her at all times.”

Jimmy laughed. “It sounds like the two of you had a lot going on behind the scenes. Speaking of which, I have to ask about the viral video. You know the one.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. Drew laughed, shaking his head.

“Oh no. You’re not really going to show it, are you?”

“Of course I am!” Jimmy said, grinning.

“For anyone who hasn’t seen it, this is a behind-the-scenes video of Drew and Y/N on set. Drew’s building a baby crib, and Y/N is… well, just watch.”

The screen infront and behind you lit up with the video. The audience howled as they watched Drew hammering away at a crib while you sat on a couch with a breast pump. The rhythmic “whirr, whirr” of the pump provided the perfect comedic soundtrack as Drew worked intently. At one point, you casually scrolled through your phone, looking completely unbothered.

When the video ended, the audience erupted into cheers and laughter. Jimmy was wiping tears from his eyes.

“So my question is… is this what you do on set?”

“Well,” Drew said, still chuckling, “Emma needed a crib, and we didn’t have one on set. So, naturally, I decided to build one during a break.”

“And I,” you added with a grin, “was taking care of my part of the parenting duties. Multitasking at its finest.”

Jimmy shook his head, laughing.

“You two are the epitome of modern parenthood. Drew, do you moonlight as a carpenter now?”

Drew smirked. “Not yet, but give me a few more months of parenting, and I’ll be building treehouses.”

The audience laughed again, and Jimmy leaned back in his chair.

“Okay, last question: How do you balance it all? Filming, parenting, being a couple; what’s the secret?”

You exchanged a glance with Drew before answering.

“Honestly, communication is everything. We make sure to check in with each other and divide responsibilities as evenly as possible.”

“And coffee,” Drew added. “Lots of coffee.”

Jimmy nodded sagely. “Coffee and communication. Words to live by.”

The interview wrapped up with more laughs, and even a clip from Against All Odds. As the applause filled the studio, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the life you and Drew had built on and off the screen. together.

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette allowed Luka to lead her through the forest, his tiny hand holding her even tinier one. Looking down, she could admire the black of his nails, wishing she could match him yet knowing that her mother would tell her it's "impractical," whatever that word meant.

But that was okay. Having met Luka around a year ago, she was just happy to spend time with him and go on whatever adventures they could get away with in their childhood. His grip was unwavering and, despite its gentleness, she truly felt as if no one could pull her away from him if they tried.

Her feet were a little unsteady as they walked, but he went slow enough that it didn't hinder either of them. Whether he did it on purpose or not, she was thankful for him, only having a bully back at home to deal with rather than any kind of friends.

"Almost there," Luka announced, though quiet enough that it might've been him muttering to himself rather than her. There was a tinge of excitement she could detect in his voice, a sure sign that he'd been anticipating this just as much as her.

The forest was so thick and the trees were so tall that barely any light could show through the leaves. Anywhere patches of sun did show through, tiny flowers were growing, and the two of them slowed or changed course so as to not to step on them even if it made the trip longer.

But finally, Marinette saw light coming from the gaps between the tree trunks, her pace picking up eagerly.

She initially flinched when her eyes had to adjust to the light, but that was how she knew they'd arrived. A village, right in the middle of festivities, laid itself out in front of them, people walking around and talking amongst themselves without batting an eye at them. Fairy lights - which she understood as a magical form of light that grew brighter the closer to nighttime it got - were strewn about everywhere, only giving off a faint shimmer in the pinkish, purplish tint of the afternoon.

"Luka!" she exclaimed in a hush whisper, shaking his arm. "It worked! You did it!"

He beamed at her. "You did it too. Our clothes would look weird if you didn't."

She blushed at the praise, unconsciously gripping his arm tight. Where she'd come from, the types of clothes they'd needed would've been entirely worthless, so it was rare to hear anyone praise her knowledge (as much knowledge as a child could absorb anyway) on the subject. She was simply fascinated by such attire and went through all the necessary research to make sure they'd blend right in.

Coming during festivities was intentional, as everyone would be too busy having fun to pay attention to them. It was also a good excuse for Luka not to have to dye the blue highlights in his hair black, which Marinette insisted he shouldn't have to because they were too pretty to hide. There, highlights in one's hair were just seen as a fun, colorful, and temporary thing to do for the festival.

In other words, they were just two kids wandering through a village like they belonged there, and no one would concern themselves with them unless they appeared truly lost. Marinette involuntarily puffed her chest out, wanting to appear confident in the face of any curious eyes.

Luka giggled next to her, imitating the pose. "Where do you wanna go?"

"Hm?" She glanced at him, then their surroundings. Dodging people would be difficult given their heights in comparison to adults, but she suspected that would change as the day progressed. Furthermore, while the villagers were clearly taken by the festival, she was taken by everything, having never been in such a place before.

Grinning, she said only half-jokingly, "Everywhere!"

—————

Playing by ear, as Luka might've put it, 'everywhere' started with a stand that seemed to be boasting about some sort of game: a typical choice for children, but very new for them. The person behind it was highly enthusiastic, waving at anyone who even glanced their way. It was funny, so they were drawn to it.

"Hey there, boy and girl!" the person greeted with a clap of their hands. "Do one of you want to play? Every customer's first game is free, and if you win then you get anything here as a prize!"

Behind them were shelves lined with handcrafted plushies, pillows, and tiny wooden figurines. Marinette turned to Luka to check his interest, but he looked oddly unimpressed with the display.

Still wanting to try anyway, Marinette climbed up onto the stool in front of the stand and bopped the counter with both hands. "I'll play! Um, how do I play?"

The person smiled, pulling out a few cards shaped like leaves and placing them upside-down along the counter, muttering something as they went. Behind them, Marinette took in the main attraction that she assumed must be the "game": a fake tree that had six "levels," each level designated by a single hole with a branch coming out the bottom of it. She blinked, wondering what the connection was, then looked down at the cards and noticed that there were also six of them.

Touching one experimentally, it didn't move but flashed orange and let out an awful (albeit brief) noise. She scrunched her nose up in displeasure, reminded of the sound of her bully's whining.

"My little friend can explain the rest," the person behind the stand added, looking over at the tree.

One of the holes on the lower half flashed green, a small fairy emerging from it and landing gracefully on the branch. They bowed, waving to their captivated audience of two and explaining, "We'll give you one minute to play. I'll be hiding in the tree and pop out of each hole at random to stand on the branch. You need to touch the card that matches it when that happens."

Marinette remembered then that the hole the fairy had come out of was green. Staring at it, it was the third hole from the bottom, and the card that flashed orange was second to the left. It must've been like a rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple. The cards hadn't actually been leaves either, they were shaped like the fairy's wings.

The fairy smiled knowingly at her understanding of the game. "I'll go slow for the first thirty seconds, but don't expect me to go easy on you after that just because you're a child."

She pouted, leaning forward in determination with her hands hovering over the cards. The fairy slipped back into the game's tree and the person nearby raised a hand, a wordless gesture to tell her to prepare.

"Ready?" they asked. At her nod, they counted down, "Three... two... one... go!"

They threw their hand down and the fairy immediately popped out from the hole that flashed yellow. Marinette followed by smacking the third card, which let out a pleasant 'ding' noise this time rather than a bad one. When the fairy slipped back in, it took a few seconds before they popped out of another hole, this time blue. Marinette hit the second-to-last card that time.

The game went on like that as the fairy had promised, a consistent rhythm of them popping out for a second, disappearing, and popping out somewhere else. She followed their movements easily enough, going from green to red to purple and then green again.

So far, so good. With each affirming 'ding', a strip of color was added to the fairies wings, corresponding with the color of the hole they'd left.

Then, the thirty seconds passed and things started to speed up. The fairy wasn't waiting as long this time whenever they went back inside the tree, so Marinette had to be quicker with her taps. It was also a little more tricky as it wasn't guaranteed to be a different color anymore: sometimes she had to hit orange twice in a row.

Despite Luka's disinterest in the prizes, she could feel his interest in her playing. His eyes never left the cards under her hands and she was starting to feel the pressure. She really wanted to win and impress him.

Ten seconds left. The fairy wasn't messing around anymore and the timing became more erratic. They barely popped out at all before going back in and Marinette was expected to know where the cards were now, no longer having the time to look down at them to check.

Orange, purple, green, green, and then green again. Red, blue, orange—!

Marinette's hand flew up in the air in shock as the unpleasant whine signified a failure. She blinked rapidly, needing a second to realize what had happened: that, in her panic, she hit yellow instead.

The holes all flashed at once, then slowly dimmed with a fading whirring noise to signify the end of the game. She'd lost, and even worse was that she could see the colored strips along the fairy's wings as they emerged to perch on one of the branches. All the colors she had tapped went along the whole of the wings - disregarding how tacky it looked - barring the very end, which was just barely uncolored.

"You did your best, kid," the person at the stand complimented, leaning on the counter. They appeared genuinely impressed. "I don't think anyone here has gotten as far as you on their first try. Do you want to go again?"

Marinette's competitive side wanted to push for another round, but she didn't have that much money on her. It seemed like such a waste to use it up on something she might not win.

"...No," she replied reluctantly, the frown evident in her voice. She hopped down from the stool, disappointed, but a clattering noise from that same stool made her look back.

Luka had gotten up onto it, raising a hand and insisting, "I want a try."

That was weird to her. It made sense for him to watch her play, but not for him to play if he didn't even want any prizes. Granted, if the first try was always free, there at least wasn't any harm in trying either.

The fairy fluttered their wings, the strips of color evaporating off as if they'd never been there in the first place, then they happily slipped back into the nearest hole. Marinette watched on curiously as the countdown was repeated, wanting to see how well her best friend would do.

The game began, Luka watching each hole carefully and looking down when he needed to. Red, green, yellow, all carefully tapped as he kept his focus on the fairy. Normally, Luka wasn't as good with games as she was, but Marinette supposed he could've been playing just to play. Maybe it looked like fun.

Thirty seconds passed by successfully, meaning it was time to speed up again. Much to Marinette's surprise, Luka dropped his eyes fully to the cards on the counter, no longer looking at the fairy anymore. That, reasonably speaking, seemed in every way a losing strategy, but the first tap Luka made went off cleanly.

Then the second, then the third, and before long she realized that whatever he was doing was working. Purple, blue, yellow, yellow, orange, and he wasn't even breaking a sweat. Marinette gripped the counter in anticipation, unable to count the exact seconds but feeling the time pass in the back of her head.

She got on her tiptoes, wanting to cheer him on but afraid of throwing him off if she did. Her ankles ached from the awkward position, but she didn't even notice in the heat of the moment.

He was getting close to where she'd been, which could be gauged by the fairy picking up their pace. Marinette watched the cards light up under Luka's touches, seeing the hole of the tree flash right before it out of the corner of her eyes. She felt so tense that it was almost like she was the one playing, and she wondered if that was what it was like for Luka watching her earlier.

The one difference was that, with one, final tap on the blue card, he beat the game. She gasped, watching the final flash of the tree as the fairy flew out with strips of color going all along their wings, signifying his victory.

The person behind the stand staggered backwards, putting a hand to their chest in awe. "Wow! Congratulations! You did great!"

The fairy even clapped for him, nodding along to the praise.

Luka didn't particularly acknowledge the victory until Marinette awkwardly hopped up onto one of the horizontal pieces on the lower part of the stool, squeezing Luka in celebration. "That was so cool!"

He had to lean away to avoid the stool toppling over, but he happily returned the hug with one arm. "Thanks, but I got it from seeing you play first."

"Then we both got it!" she corrected. She didn't know if he was telling the truth, but she wouldn't complain if it joined the two of them together in some way.

The person at the stand gave them a few more seconds to themselves, then gestured at the shelves behind them to ask, "So? What kind of prize do you want?"

Luka narrowed his eyes at the prizes, looking all over without committing to any of them. It was taking him longer to pick something than it did for him to play, but slowly, his gaze dropped down and he pointed with his free arm. "That."

Marinette squinted, leaning forward a bit, and saw what he'd requested when the person raised their arm up confusedly. On their wrist was a spiral bracelet wrapping around half their forearm in the colors of the rainbow.

"This?" They waved him off. "This isn't one of our prizes. Those are on the shelves back there."

They jabbed a thumb behind them, but Luka wasn't deterred. "You said we could have anything here as a prize."

"...Ah—?"

They were baffled, then jerked their head towards their fairy companion, who'd suddenly burst into laughter at what was going on.

"Aw, just give it to him!" they said, wings fluttering in tune with their giggles. "He just won a second time against us with that!"

The person snorted, having not expected any of this today, but relented and slipped the bracelet off. "Alright, you little sneak. A deal's a deal."

Luka accepted the bracelet, giving it a final look before holding it out to Marinette. With a soft smile, he said, "Here."

"Oooo~" Keeping one arm around him, she held the bracelet up to the sky with the other, watching the colors shift depending on how the light was hitting it. "It's neat!"

She went to hand it back to him, but Luka's hand had dropped into his lap, curled into a fist so she couldn't. A beat of silence passed, which is how long she'd needed for it to click with her.

"W-wha—" She let go of him, losing her balance on the stool. The drop wasn't at all high, so her feet hit the ground without a stumble. "But why?"

He cast a glance at the shelves. "You can't take any of those home."

So he'd thought about giving her a gift all along? That's why he looked at the shelves like that? And that wasn't even what she meant!

"But..." She stopped short, staring down at the bracelet again and running her fingers over its surface. She'd already been planning to get Luka something anyway, and she had wanted a souvenir from her experience there. Wouldn't the souvenir being from Luka make it all the more special?

Wordlessly, she accepted the gift by putting it on herself. It was too large for her own arm, so she slipped it onto one of her legs instead, wiggling the leg experimentally to make sure it wouldn't fall off. By the time she'd confirmed it, Luka had hopped off the stool so they could continue on their way.

Holding his hand so as to not get lost (one of the few lessons from her parents that she was actually following at the moment), she walked alongside him and asked, "How'd you do that anyway?"

He gave her a curious glance, clueless.

"What you did!" She waved back at the stand. "You beat it without looking!"

"Mmm..." He tilted his head. "But I heard it."

"Huh?"

He made a flapping motion with his free hand. "I heard the wings echoing in the tree, and they stopped when they got to a hole."

He could hear the wings flapping in the tree and know which hole the fairy would come out of from the way he heard it echo and stop?!

Marinette exhaled in disbelief, leaning against him. "But you're my best friend, so I already thought you were the best!" Looking up at him, she genuinely asked, "Does that make you my best best friend now?"

Luka let out a small noise, covering his mouth in a rare show of embarrassment. "It was just a game."

"No it wasn't! 'Cause you won it for me!"

He relented to her point after enough pressing.

—————

Marinette totally, definitely hadn't been searching for one, but one of their next stops was a store that just so happened to have toys in the window. There was a sound of a bell as they walked in and she peered up at it, wondering if someone must've hung it there as a prank to annoy whoever worked there.

Regardless, she had a mission and dismissed the thought to eye the store. Her grip on Luka's hand tightened in determination, but then she noted that she wouldn't be able to secretly buy him anything if she clung to him. She'd even need her other hand to properly inspect the quality of whatever she was buying.

"I'm gonna go over here," she told him, letting go of him to point in a random direction.

"Okay." He nodded, immediately heading there and misinterpreting her entirely.

"A-ah, wait, wait!" She hurried to get in front of him and pressed against his chest with her hands to stop him. "I mean, we should play hide-and-seek, so I'll go over there to count!"

He stared at her, then looked around as she had done earlier, though for very different reasons. Thankfully, the store was big enough, having more than enough shelves, clothing racks, and random objects to either hide around or hide behind. She even saw a few plushes even bigger than her that would make for a good hiding place, though she questioned how a giant would fit into the store to buy one.

"I'll go hide," Luka agreed after an agonizing few seconds. He turned away, getting ready to walk, but stopped to look over his shoulder at her in confusion.

Right, she needed to go count.

Marinette headed off in the direction she'd pointed to, trying not to be obvious about staring at the things she passed on the way. Some of them were candy and snacks, but she didn't want to give Luka anything that wouldn't last. She didn't want to buy him any of the children's books either, because if they were called children's books then that meant it wouldn't be a gift for him when he wasn't a child anymore.

For the time being, she squatted down at the edge of one of the many shelves and covered her eyes, making due on the lie by counting aloud. Faintly, she could hear Luka's footsteps getting further away, straining her ears to hear them over her own voice until she was certain he was far enough from her.

By then, she carefully trailed off her counting until there was nothing but silence, freeing her to stand up and start exploring for a gift. If Luka saw her before he found a hiding spot, she could always claim that she never said how long she would count for.

Finding a balance between eyeing the toys she saw and looking out for anything dangerously Luka-colored, she went down an aisle at a time. Occasionally, she would stop to pick something up, like a pair of two squishy ladybugs forming a ball together, or a slug that made a funny clicking sound when she wiggled it, but nothing was calling to her as a gift for him. She knew Luka was a sweetheart and would like anything offered to him, but that wasn't a reason to not try.

As she tried to imagine what a "perfect gift" for Luka would even be like, she caught sight of something pink and blue on one of the shelves. She hurried over and, while she was briefly disappointed that it was only the back of the packaging that was blue, the pink color screamed her which made it serve as a good reminder of who this potential gift to Luka came from.

It was a clam shell. Marinette ran her fingertip along the ridges and noted that there was a little clip or force of some kind keeping it shut. It opened with a little effort, but nothing was inside; according to the advertisement, it was made to hold something, though didn't specify what.

Luka was someone who could use something to hold things. Eyeing the inside of the clam, she saw that there were even little slits that he could perhaps use for guitar picks. That might not've been the intention of the maker had in mind when they designed such a thing, but they didn't specify beyond "something," and guitar picks would be multiple somethings! Genius!

Taking the clam off the shelf, she ran through the store as fast as her little legs would carry her. She almost tripped and went face-first into the floor, but the sheer importance of the moment kept her upright.

Understanding enough about stores to know that she had to go to the cashier, she took one last wary look for any sign of Luka before handing them the clam. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the few coins she had, which were gathered meticulously over many days on the beach. She still recalled waiting for everyone to leave so she could look for coins they may have dropped, wanting to be ready in case something like this ever happened.

Giving them up to the cashier, they confirmed the price of the clam and returned it to her, as well as a single coin. The packaging had been taken off at her request, so she could fully take in the sight of the little storage clam and the nice weight it had.

Thankful for the deep pockets in the jacket she had, she slipped it inside, doubly thankful that the poofy design allowed for the clam's bulk to not be that noticeable. Then, with all that checked and confirmed, she set off to look for Luka.

By her estimation, it hadn't been that long since their game had started and she'd kept her eyes out for him the whole time, so she felt good about him not being suspicious that she'd been up to anything. Grinning to herself, she daydreamed about his potential reaction while searching for him between shelves and behind the giant plushies.

Tauntingly, she raised a hand to the side of her mouth and called, "Luuuuka~" She looked left, then right. "I'm gonna find y—"

She stopped when a rustling noise caught her attention, her focus shifting to one of the circular clothing racks that had fancy festival wear. Two pieces of clothing were pushed aside, Luka slowly stepping out from the gap he made.

Marinette blinked. They made eye contact and he froze halfway out of his hiding spot, a few confused seconds passing by before they both realized what happened.

He was so used to coming to her when she called his name that he did so without thinking.

Luka bowed his head, ashamed of having ruined their game. "Sorry."

Giggling, Marinette made her way over to him and snatched up his hand. It made her happy, knowing that they could both act silly together. "It's okay! My hand was lonely anyway!"

It wasn't a lie even if she'd planned to return to him casually. Things just felt better when he was around and she hadn't wanted to separate in the first place.

—————

Even over the hustle and bustle of the crowd as the afternoon began to transition to evening, Marinette could still hear the grumbling of Luka's stomach. She stopped, eyeing the source of the sound, and Luka turned to look at her.

"What?"

"Ah... I'm hungry," she told him. "Can we eat?"

An actual lie that time, but she'd been down this road before to know that it was necessary. They'd gotten into loops enough times of noticing that the other was hungry, the other insisting not to worry about it, and back and forth until finally they both decided to eat together. In retrospect, Luka may have given the same lie to her in the past.

It just seemed like such a waste to miss out on potential playtime to eat, but at least now they could have food they hadn't tried before.

Luka agreed, so they set about finding something they wanted. There were plenty of people down the streets waving around food and shouting out what she presumed was the name of it, but the two of them couldn't really make sense of it. Food there was so different from what they were used to that they probably wouldn't recognize anything anyway.

They debated on whether they should risk their money on chance, but then they heard the familiar word "blueberry" and looked over. Luka was a forest dweller and often brought Marinette fruit that he picked, so they both knew what those were.

In the woman's hands, however, were tiny round things that Marinette didn't recognize. They were closer to baby blue than the dark purplish-blue she was used to on blueberries, which confused her brain entirely as they did smell like blueberries. At Luka's asking, the woman listed off a few rough ingredients and the general process of baking them, but it all sounded like random words mashed together barring "blueberries" and "eggs."

"Here." She put her handful of treats back in the container she had them in, pulling out one in each hand and offering it to them. "Cuties like you can have one for free as a taste test."

Marinette exchanged a glance with Luka. She wasn't sure what the criteria was that the lady was using, but she could agree that he was cute: calm, quiet, and always with something sweet to say whenever he did speak.

"Okay," Marinette began, only to not take the one offered to her and point at Luka instead, "but Luka has to give it to me."

He didn't ask why, accepting both treats and holding one up to her mouth. Catching the woman's confused stare on her, Marinette felt compelled to explain anyway.

"My maman and papa told me not to take sweets from strangers, but Luka's not a stranger."

With that, she opened her mouth and let Luka slip the treat in at the same time he fed himself. The taste of blueberry filled her mouth as she bit down, the treat so tiny that she could only bite a few times before it was largely crumbs. The outside had been crisp, but inside it was soft and a little chewy, her tongue getting the full force of the fruit she would still insist it didn't look like.

She put a hand to her lips, letting out a tiny, pleased noise at the flavor, and heard something similar from Luka. It was an easy choice from there to buy it, though she already imagined that the single coin she had wouldn't buy much.

Luka, on the other hand, still had coins of his own. While she'd found hers on the beach, he sometimes found some that forest visitors had dropped, or those snatched up by birds and placed in nests for their shine. He bought enough that the both of them would've struggled to hold them even if they used both of their hands, but the woman settled the two piles onto edible pink paper for them, neatly crimped and folded so as to contain them well.

Walking off with the treats, they found a quiet place to sit and got to eating. Marinette imagined that her parents might have complained about her eating so much of something sweet, but it had fruit in it and it was a "treat" day anyway. They deserved to spoil themselves instead of thinking about such things.

"Why do all kids like sweet stuff?" she wondered aloud. "Some adults do too."

Luka hummed, not able to answer at first when his mouth was full. He swallowed, then guessed, "Maybe they have a spell on 'em?"

She looked down, eyes narrowed in suspicion as she poked the top of the pile. Nothing happened, at least beyond the treats moving from the little push. "All sweets? Do they wanna be eaten that bad?"

He shrugged, still mulling it over, and she took the time to shove a palmful into her mouth.

"What if we have the spell?" he suggested. "So it's not the sweets, and sometimes the spell goes away when we grow up?"

"So we're cursed when we get born?" She nodded along, invested in the hot new theory he just dropped. "I bet your mom could cure us. She's good with magic and potions."

"Mm." He stopped eating to consider that, lightly prodding and moving around the treats he still had, then countered, "But it'd be sad not to like these anymore."

"Yeah," she solemnly agreed. That was the trick of such a curse, she supposed, because why would someone want to take away how good sweets tasted?

The conversation lulled off as they dedicated themselves to enjoying the treats, cursed or otherwise. Marinette even tore a corner of the paper to taste, noting the strawberry undertones, and got an idea. With just a few, precious blueberry bites left, she curled the paper around them and shoved the whole thing directly into her mouth, flooding it with the taste of both berries at once.

Luka was wide-eyed at the motion, but not in any negative way. Rather, he thought it was an amazing idea and went about imitating her, slightly clumsier with curling the paper but it didn't affect the taste.

With any hunger satiated, they dusted off their hands like they'd done a hard day's work, then returned to enjoying the festivities.

—————

Neither of them were used to walking for so long. Knowing that, it was inevitable that their legs would start to tire, but the two of them had left it as a problem for their future selves.

Except now, though thankfully late in their adventure, the future had arrived and they reluctantly accepted that they had to rest. They searched for a quiet place where few people would be and settled on a library, having not even realized how much it was to deal with the crowd of people outside until they were away from it all.

A single librarian stood behind the front desk, idly sorting things they couldn't quite see. On the corner of the desk was a container of candy, either bribing material or congratulatory rewards for kids to read more, but they ignored them to traverse the rest of the library.

The rows of bookshelves almost felt like a maze of knowledge, but they eventually made it to a comfy little spot in a corner. There was a table, chairs, and a few books that were either abandoned or recommended for those who may've come by. Curious, Marinette grabbed one of the books to look at, but scowled when the cover showed blond hair that looked all too similar to her bully's.

Definitely abandoned books.

Luka was tired enough that he didn't even bother pulling out one of the chairs to sit on, opting to plop down on the floor and lean against the wall. Sympathetic, Marinette left the book re-abandoned on the table and went over to kneel at his side.

"You should sleep if you're tired," she encouraged.

He yawned, though tried to hide it with his hands. "There's a lot we didn't do yet."

She tapped her chin in thought. "Well... we didn't sleep yet? I can read you a story too."

Before he could answer, she pushed herself up and walked away to a small rack of more child-friendly books than the ones on the table. Their thinness made it perfect for her hands to hold comfortably, and she returned to Luka with a smile.

Then, considering something, she put the book down on Luka's lap and retrieved the heavier book she'd hated from the table. Dropping it next to their little spot, she sat down next to him and picked the thinner book back up.

"This one's to read," she explained, then pointed to the one she'd dropped. "That's for keeping you safe if anyone tries to wake you up."

He giggled at the exaggerated motion she made of whacking someone with the book. "I thought books were for learning things."

It was playful, but Marinette huffed and replied anyway, "They'll learn not to wake you up."

And that was that. She leaned against the wall with him, their bodies bumping together comfortably as she opened the book to the first page. Her ability to read aloud wasn't perfect and she stumbled on a couple words she'd seen but never spoken before, yet Luka didn't complain.

Eventually, she felt him relax against her, looking over to see that his eyes were shut and his breathing had slowed. She debated with herself on continuing to read, but the book didn't seem as fun when they weren't looking at it together.

Her eyelids drooped, the letters blurring as the sleepiness started to take her too. She had promised to protect Luka while he napped, but she could already hear his voice in her head, telling her that she couldn't protect him if she didn't protect herself first.

Making a compromise with herself, she turned further towards him, settling the book on his lap and placing her hands atop it. His scent was familiar as she snuggled against him and, if she really focused on it, she could still smell the flowers they had picked and put on each other the other day.

The scent on her, unfortunately, had probably washed off by then, but that was fine. They still had the memories even if the scent didn't linger, and that thought lulled her fully into secure slumber.

—————

"Hey... hey there, come on," a gentle, deep voice said. "Wake up."

Marinette whined, glaring off at nothing as she slowly opened her eyes, then lifted her head up towards the source of the wake-up call. It was the librarian, who looked worriedly down at the both of them, just out of whacking distance.

"I wanted to let you two sleep, but it's getting late," he told her. "Aren't your parents worried about you?"

Honestly? Probably not. Her parents were nice but didn't have much of a hands-on approach - probably assumed she lost track of time somewhere - whereas Luka's mom was fully aware where they were and what they were doing. She looked outside to get an estimate of the time, the fairy lights hung just outside the window glowing as bright as ever.

Because it was as late as ever.

Marinette jolted, eyes wide open as she turned to Luka. She didn't even have time to wonder if she'd have to whack herself for trying to wake him, too panicked as she grabbed his shoulder and gave him a shake.

"Luka! Luka, Luka!"

He groaned as he stirred from her efforts. His body was sluggish and might've fallen over had she not had a firm grip on him. "M-Marinette...?"

"It's late!" she cried out. "Late late!"

He blinked slowly at her, because normally it being "late late" wouldn't be a concern for either of them. However, his brain finally caught up and he became wide awake in an instant, pushing himself to his feet as the book fell from his lap to the floor. "We have to go!"

"Yeah!" She hurriedly gathered the two books to set them on the table, barely giving the librarian a "thank you" before her hand grabbed Luka's and they were off. The little corner they'd taken minutes to find after coming in through the front door took only seconds to backtrack from, the two of them working as a tiny unit to force the door open as fast as possible with their free hands.

Ignoring any glances they might've gotten from adults, they ran around and past anyone they could. Occasionally, they might've bumped something or someone, taking up more space from being side-by-side as they were, but their grip on each other was solid and they refused to let go of each other even for convenience.

Before long, they headed back into the forest, Marinette allowing Luka to lead since he was the one who knew the way. Swerving around trees and ducking under branches, it was clear that he was trying to take the quickest route possible.

It was hard to gauge the time anymore, the moon completely out of sight due to the vast foliage above them. Still, Marinette could catch them smell of the ocean, so she felt they could still make it before—

"Ah—!"

She fell forward, Luka stumbling along with her as they both hit the ground. She raised her head to apologize, certain that her legs had finally given out, but then she looked behind her.

In place of her legs was her mermaid tail, bright pink and shimmering like it'd never left. The only evidence that she'd gone to a human village at all was the bracelet she'd put on, which nicely fit right above the fins at the end. She turned her head back to Luka and, sure enough, his naga tail had come back as well.

There was only one conclusion to draw: that the potions his mother had given them had worn off. She groaned, mentally cursing her luck that they'd turned back just before they got to the ocean. To Luka, it was hardly a problem so long as they were out of the village where they could no longer be seen, but not so much with Marinette.

She wiggled her tail and tried to push herself up, but to no avail. She couldn't move on land like he did, only awkwardly crawl or drag herself.

"Marinette," Luka called, fretting. He looked her over worriedly for injuries and reached for her arm when he found none. "Here, hold onto me."

She pouted as he helped her up and guided her hand to his shoulder. "I'm gonna be heavy."

"Nu-uh," he huffed, like it was a personal offense to him if he couldn't lift her.

Slowly, she slipped both of her arms around his neck while he grabbed her waist, straightening up and reorienting the both of them. He kept one hand at her back, the other supporting her tail so they could continue on their way.

She still protested, but he didn't complain, grunt, or show any signs that he was bothered on their way back to the beach. The trees slowly made way for vast skies and pink sand, but she clung a little tighter to him even as she stared out at the familiar sights that should've been home.

They both readied themselves, Luka's arms tensing while she prepared herself to leap. With one precise, strong toss, he threw her upwards and she flung in an arc to land safely back in the water. The crisp, clear world aboveground turned blurry when she looked up, the water distorting it into shapes she knew weren't real.

Popping her head back up above the surface, she looked out at Luka, who had made himself comfortable on the beach. He was leaning back, his hands almost lost in the sand and supporting him as he tried to catch his breath.

"Sorry," she murmured.

He raised a brow at her, puzzled, then offered her a smile. "I had fun."

He'd changed the subject, not even acknowledging the apology like he truly didn't need it. Marinette mirrored the smile back at him, agreeing, "Me too. Maybe we can go again?"

The immediate nod was reassuring. Though it ended rather stressfully, that didn't take away from the experience overall.

She also noticed then that their clothes from the waist up had stayed on: one more happy reminder of their secret adventure. She grinned wider, gripping her jacket and pulling it tight against herself, but something ridged, large, and round nudged at her side as she did.

Gasping, her eyes lit up in recognition. She twisted, awkwardly fighting the wet fabric and the drag of the water to reach into the pocket. "Oh, um, Luka, I got..."

Sand shifted nearby as Luka came closer to her, the tide just barely missing him. Marinette retrieved the clam and swam closer, struggling a bit with the shore but managing to find a comfortable place where she could "sit."

"Here! It's for you!" she exclaimed, holding the clam out to him. It was wet, but a quality enough product that it wasn't damaged or worn from it. "I bought it at the store we went to."

He gaped at her, leaning forward to take a closer look. Nearly losing his balance, he thrust his hands into the wet sand and hovered over the gift while she presented it to him. "Really? For me?"

"For you!" she echoed. Popping the clam open, she pointed at the slits on the inside and explained, "You can hold things inside, like your guitar picks! Neat, right?"

Though, when she looked at it again, she wondered if it was really enough for her best friend, who'd been upgraded just that day to best best friend. A storage container was nice, but was giving someone an empty one equivalent to giving them a gift box with nothing inside? Surely there was something she could put in it.

An idea struck a moment later, Marinette pulling back and turning the inside of the clam towards her. Raising it to her lips, she kissed the inner part of the top for good luck before slamming the clam shut with a satisfying click, wanting to make sure the luck didn't have a chance to escape.

That way, she figured, the bottom could store his guitar picks and the top could store the good luck. It was taking full advantage of all the space inside.

Holding it carefully with both hands, she extended her arms towards him with a hopeful smile. "Do you like it?"

He was speechless, having not expected to get any gift that day beyond his time with her. His lips pressed together in a pout, wobbly with emotion as he raised a hand to take the gift from her.

However, he stopped short, noticing the wet sand still caking his hand. Unwilling to touch her gift with dirty hands, he reached into the water to flap his hands about inside to try and clean them. While that did most of the job, he remained dissatisfied and grabbed at his jacket, pulling it off to wipe his hands on it.

Throwing the jacket-turned-towel aside, he finally took the clam from her and cradled it to his chest. Marinette's heart ached pleasantly, seeing that it was already something precious to him.

"Thanks. I love it," he whispered.

They stayed there for just a minute longer in each other's company, no longer fearing any time limit urging them into action. Their friendship was powerful despite only a year of knowing each other, of having to meet in secret at the shore when no one else was around, of Luka's mother "stealing" Marinette away to show her their home when viable, and of risky adventures created through human disguises.

There would inevitably be a time in the future where they wouldn't be able to do it anymore. They would get older, busier, and it would be harder to keep meeting on the shore. Even further in the future, one of them may even have to make a choice to ensure they never part again.

But in the blissful innocence of childhood, they could simply enjoy their time together.

[sarmaangel]

The ending was so disappointing for me.

It didn’t feel completed, which I guess is the point because they want to make additional series but it still doesn’t do anything for the current show.

With the end of season one there was a big even and large character interaction that felt integral to the characters themselves. It had a cliff hanger but I had a sense of loss, excitement, I felt satisfied.

I don’t here. What did we get?

Jinx is suicidal now and teamed up with Ekko to help save the city. Then she decided to sacrifice herself to try and kill the Beast.

Victor became a bit of a villain for about an episode and a half before being okay. Now he’s just fucking gone.

Jayce was annoying to be for half of this season because the man doesn’t think. Didn’t come up with a good plan to get rid of the gates. He has a sweet heart-to-heart with Victor to get him to stop and now he’s also just fucking gone.

Caitlyn feels like she didn’t really grow at all. She went from being spoiled in season one to being a dirty cop, to still not really learning the shit the underprivileged deal with. She was honestly my least favorite this entire show. I didn’t enjoy her one bit. Most of the time she was on screen, I was yelling about her being stupid, classist, a dictator, or just annoying.

I actually don’t have much to say about Vi. Her characterization has been pretty stable the entire show and her fuck ups come from her insecurities and inability to be alone. The only thing that bothers me is how at the end of the finale she doesn’t seem to show any depression over completely losing Vander and now her sister, her only remaining family members. She’s just “it’s all okay as long as I have my cop girlfriend”. It just doesn’t sit with me well.

Ekko doesn’t really have anyone now. His family unit has been completely broken now. He lost his mentor, he lost Jinx, it doesn’t show him reconnecting with Vi, because he’s all alone during the vigil. A good amount of Zaunites were killed in the attack against Ambessa. He’s just there.

Mel doesn’t have an arc either. We don’t get to see how shit affects her, even though the major part of this episode is about her mother Ambessa and her death. After she dies, we see her cradling her body before Viktor starts making things get fucky. Then we see her in one of her mother’s boats holding her mask in different clothes. I’m sure that means that she has taken place of her mother in their command. But again we don’t have a satisfying end.

The entirety of the end of this series is open ended and not in a satisfying way at all. I want more, but this series is over and we aren’t getting more. Now we have to wait for an entire new series. I would have been happy with this ended with a “let’s see what happens next”, but instead it ends with “you HAVE to watch the next one if you want to feel satisfied about any of these characters”. I don’t like that. I don’t want to wait at least another three years to feel satisfied. That was your job to put it in your goddamn finale.

[xxcxelum]

MOURN NOT FOR ICARUS~

ABOUT: very long, 8562 words

STORY: retelling of the greek myth with an addition to the end

WARNINGS: i mean i guess he dies lol

A/N: i wrote this almost a year ago but i've mentioned it a few times and people said i should post it so im posting it on my writing blog instead of my main.

There was a bird out the window. Icarus could not identify it, for he had never received formal education. However it was small. Each feather on its wings varied in different shades of brown, and it had a black face. Icarus watched as it flapped its beautiful wings, so gracefully flying across the view outside, and delicately landed atop a tall mountainside tree. The small bird did not have a nest in the tree. It only landed on a shaky branch and looked out at the scene below.

Icarus understood why the gentle creature simply perched itself there. He himself was perched at the windowsill, staring out at the ocean below. He found the rhythm of the waves mesmerizing. But more interesting than the movements of the water was what laid below. The tower in which Icarus and his father were trapped in was, though an unfortunate circumstance, built at the edge of a mountain. He could see the sea lapping onto the bottom of the cliff. It was hard not to appreciate the natural beauty of the sight. 

Ahead, at the horizon, were more rocks and mountains, more islands. King Minos has imprisoned both Icarus and Daedalus on the island of Crete. After what his father had done, Icarus didn’t see the punishment fit, especially as he had nothing to do with it. Yet there he was, sitting in the tower, admiring the cities from behind a window that would mean certain death if he leaned only a little closer.

“Icarus,” his father’s voice spoke from behind him. The young boy turned around quickly at the call of his name. He was met with the sight of Daedalus working with a collection of feathers and wax, an already agreed upon method to get themselves out of there. “Help me with these wings.”

He was quick to do as he was told, glancing back at the view and the bird only once more before retreating from the windowsill. “Yes, father.” Icarus took those few steps closer to the center of the room, though it wasn’t far since the room was small. 

The surrounding walls were old and adorned with nothing but dust and the slight growing of moss between the stones. Even the floor was empty, for there was no reason for King Minos to provide the prisoners with anything other than what was needed to fulfill basic needs, which he classified as food and water. Even those were given sparingly. 

Daedalus sat on the ground leaning over the incomplete wings. The frame was already completed, made of materials that Icarus couldn’t quite recognize. He had never been much of an inventor like his father, but although he never took interest in it, he always found it fascinating to watch. His eyes followed his Daedalus’ weathered hands as they bent the wire frame, preparing the wax and feathers. There were leather straps on either side, presumably for their arms when they wore the wings. 

Icarus stepped closer and kneeled next to his father. Daedalus said nothing at first, holding the frame out in front of him and assessing his work. Then, with a nod of self-confirmation, he turned to Icarus. “No,” he told the boy when he tried to touch the wire. “Stand up, son. And put your arms out. I must add the feathers, but I cannot do so with the wings on the floor.” 

That statement made Icarus’ eyes brighten. He was already excited to fly; he’d been looking forward to it since his father first introduced the idea of it to him months ago. He knew that was the day that it was finally going to happen, the day they were finally going to free themselves from their prison, but now it was becoming more real. Once he had his wings on, all Daedalus had to do was put on his own and they would be able to jump from the window without falling to their deaths. 

So, doing as he was told, Icarus stood up and opened his arms. He watched in awe as Daedalus carefully slid the straps of the wings over his arms, the leather cool and smooth against his skin. Icarus hadn’t noticed another strap that was placed upon his torso, attaching the frame to his back. 

He could not tell Daedalus’ emotions as he did this, for his face was expressionless, focused solely on not breaking the wings. However once he finished, Daedalus stepped a few steps back as if to admire his creation. 

Icarus turned his neck to look at either arm, which were weighed down only slightly by the metal frame attached to them. Though the feathers weren’t done being added, he still smiled. He was only getting closer to the moment of inevitable freedom. 

The boy smiled at the thought, and at the wings themselves. Even if they were not finished, and even if he was not one to build such things, he did admire them almost as much as his father did. They were carefully constructed, delicate but strong so that it would be able to support his weight. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, one of genuine joy and excitement. 

“I look like a bird, father,” Icarus laughed. It was a small observation, a comparison that made him smile wider. Daedalus’ face had been more critical as he had been examining the wings and how they looked on his son, trying to figure out the best way to attach the feathers, but his gaze softened at the childlike curiosity that came from Icarus. Daedalus’ eyes moved from the frame on the boy’s small body and met Icarus’ eyes, a small smile of his own growing on his face. 

“Yes, I suppose you do.” With a nod of approval, Daedalus then decided to begin with the feathers. Icarus continued to admire the wings on his back, waving his arms up and down until his father told him to stop before they broke. Then, Daedalus started working. 

He had planned this for a while, but had to be careful as he worked to make sure that everything was done exactly and precisely as it should. He developed a technique of dipping the feathers into wax and carefully placing them on the wired frame of the wings. It took much patience and standing still, which was not easy for a young Icarus. Icarus had been standing there with his arms out for too long, and he was getting restless. Daedalus noticed this and decided to talk to his son in order to distract him from moving too much. 

“Do you remember what I’ve told you about flying?” Daedalus asked softly as he worked. He was standing behind him, so Icarus stared out the window as he answered. Icarus noticed the bird was still there. 

“Yes, you said that we must be careful,” Icarus replied. “You said that the wings are strong, but not perfect.” Daedalus nodded as he placed another feather on the wings. He was getting closer to finishing. 

“And what must we do to be careful?” He pushed, wanting to ensure that Icarus knew what was needed to be safe while flying. Icarus sighed, as he had been warned many times of what to do, even before that day. Daedalus had the idea for so long that he had been explaining the dangers to Icarus far before the wings were close to being constructed. 

“Do not fly too high or too low,” the boy spoke, echoing what he’d heard time and time before.

“That’s right. Because too high and the sun will melt the wax, and too low and the water from the sea will dampen the feathers. We do not wish for the wings to break.” 

Icarus knew this. He’d been told this plenty of times. Daedalus also understood that the repetition of these rules were most likely an annoyance to Icarus, but he still felt the need to reiterate them. Icarus had always had a sense of curiosity, a look of awe at everything his eyes perceived. He was inquisitive. Sure, Daedalus admired that; he was glad that his son had at least inherited something from him, if not his interest in inventing. But he knew how Icarus could be, and knew that no matter how many times he reminded him, a small part of Icarus would still want to explore the sky. Daedalus had to do his best to emphasize the danger to his son. 

However the boy only found it irritating. Icarus knew what to do and knew that if he went too high or too low then the wings would break. It was obvious to him that he wouldn’t be so reckless as to put himself in danger like that, so he didn’t appreciate Daedalus saying the same thing over and over. Yet deep down, Icarus knew that his father only cared for him and wanted him to be safe. So he tried not to let it bother him too much, and to appreciate the love from his father. 

Daedalus continued for what was a little under half an hour until he finally finished the wings. When he told him that he was completed, Icarus practically jumped up, though he was already standing. Icarus’ smile only grew wider as he spread his arms out and looked at the wings. 

He didn’t know where Daedalus had gotten the feathers, he only knew that he had been collecting them for a while. So Icarus didn’t know which bird they belonged to, however they were a light tan color, almost an off white. Though they weren’t the right shade of brown, he couldn’t help but compare the wings to those of the bird out the window. It was a bird that he had been seeing a lot, though he wasn’t sure if it was the same one each time or simply the same species. Either way, his mind kept returning to the bird as he thought himself to be similar. 

Icarus’ excitement was palpable. He laughed as he lifted his arms up and down, mimicking a flapping motion. They were a bit heavier now, though not by much. The feathers were beautiful when they were all pressed together by wax, and he couldn’t even see the frame anymore. 

Daedalus looked pleased, not only to see the wings completed, but also to see his son so eager to fly. But of course before they could fly, he had to get his wings on and make them. Daedalus had started a bit on his own before, just to see if it was possible to do while someone wasn’t wearing them, but decided it might be best if someone else were to do it. However he couldn’t let Icarus put them on as he attached the feathers because Icarus was already wearing his pair. So Daedalus had to ever so carefully use the wax, like before, to put the feathers on his own wings. 

But that wouldn’t work forever. Eventually, he got to a point where the wings wouldn’t balance somewhere on their own, so he had to put them on and asked Icarus to help him with the last few feathers. 

Of course Icarus was more than willing to help. He wanted to be able to feel important, to feel like he was actually doing something useful and aiding their escape rather than just standing there and waiting impatiently for his father to have his wings ready to fly. 

Icarus quickly went to stand behind his father, who had already put the almost-done wings on his back, and did as he was directed to finish them. He tried to imitate the movements of Daedalus in the way that he had been using wax to attach the feathers to the wings’ frame. As he spoke he worked, rambling mostly out of anticipation. 

“You know, father, when we escape, the first thing I want to do is eat a proper meal. It’s been far too long since we’ve had that opportunity. Actually, maybe I will drink cleaner water first. That is a smarter decision.” Daedalus only listened with an amused smile on his face as his son spoke. “Perhaps the first thing I will eat is an olive.” 

That made his father chuckle. “An olive? Is that so?” 

Icarus nodded, placing another wax-dipped feather on the wings. “Yes, an olive. I like olives. I haven’t had one since we’ve been imprisoned.”

“Yes, well, the olive tree is the sacred plant of goddess Athena,” he explained, wording things carefully so as to not upset the deity. “And I will tell you, humbly of course, that my genius for inventing and such was a blessing from the goddess of wisdom herself.” That made Icarus’ eyes widen. He hadn’t known that. “So, as my son, perhaps she will favor you and give you the best olive.” 

The young boy grinned. It was new information to him that his father was blessed by a goddess, let alone one as powerful as Athena. And the idea that she would favor him as well was exhilarating, even if it only resulted in a single, well-tasting olive. 

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime to the impatient Icarus, but couldn’t have been more than an hour, they were finished. Icarus placed the last feather on his father’s wings, and Daedalus checked his own and his son’s to make sure they were intact and in the right condition to fly. Icarus, though not saying anything about it, was proud of himself for managing to finish Daedalus’ wings for him, even if the job had been relatively small. Just as he wanted, he felt important, he felt useful.

And now the time had finally come for the wings themselves to be useful.

The moment he decided they were finished, Daedalus got straight to the point. “We must be quick, Icarus,” he told his son. “I do not know how much time we have.” They both knew that he didn’t mean time left in the day; the sun, shining in all its glory, was still directly above them in the sky. However it was King Minos, their captor, who they feared. He did not enter their prison often, almost no one did, but those who were meant to feed them or check on them would come at arbitrary intervals. At any second could someone enter and discover their plan for escape. If that happened, there would certainly be punishments- punishments that Daedalus did not want Icarus to have to live through.

Icarus only nodded, understanding what his father was thinking. He waited for further instruction, but already knew that their next move was going to be: fly.

Daedalus stepped closer to the window starting by simply looking out and assessing the view, noting the height at which they were at and how if the wings were to break or malfunction, they would not be able to survive the fall. Especially not if they landed in the water. He took a deep breath and turned back to Icarus, who had also been looking out the window eagerly. 

“I know I have told you countless times before,” Daedalus began once more, wanting to stress as much as possible the dangers to his son. “But you will stay by me. When we jump out this window, give yourself a couple of seconds for the wings to begin gliding; do not panic if you feel you are to fall because you will not fall.” Icarus let out a sigh of irritation, but Daedalus continued. “And you will stay behind me as we fly. As I’ve said, do not go too high, as the sun will melt the wax, and do not go too low, as the water will dampen the feathers. Do you understand?” 

Daedalus knew that Icarus understood. He knew how much the boy cared about himself. He knew that he would never do something so reckless as to risk his life, he knew that. Icarus had so much to look forward to in his life; he was young and had much potential. Even if he wasn’t aware of it himself, Daedalus knew that the young boy had so much of his life ahead of him. He would never do something to lose that. 

“Yes, father.” 

For a few moments, their eyes were met. They both were aware of the risk they were about to take, of how much danger they were putting themselves in. Even if Icarus did as he was told, and even if Daedalus was so sure of his wings, there was always a chance that things would go wrong. Not just the possibility of a flaw in the making of the wings, but also the looming possibility that the gods themselves would interfere. 

Zeus was the god of the sky. If he wasn’t happy with them in his domain, he could easily strike them down before they even made it to the next island. Daedalus knew this. That was a risk he was willing to take. 

He nodded, and then broke eye contact with his son. 

One last time, Icarus looked around the small room that had been their unwelcome home for too long. The cold stone walls and floor. The furnishings, or lack thereof. The damp scent. He was relieved to be leaving, to have the smell of moss overgrowth replaced by that of the ocean. Not only relieved but, of course, excited. He took a deep breath and turned back to the window. The bird was still there, sitting out on the tree. But when it suddenly got up and flew away, Icarus no longer watched it in jealousy, for he knew that at last he would get to do the same. 

 Daedalus took the final moment before their escape to say a prayer. He prayed to Zeus, wishing for the king of the gods to grant them safe passing over his skies. They were not out of Zeus’ favor, the father and son, but not necessarily within it, either. And since the gods didn’t simply reply to favors like that so quickly, there was nothing more they could do in that moment than pray and hope he was in a good mood that day. 

Then, that was it. There was nothing else. No more wings to finish, no more rules to reiterate, no more prayers to be said. They had done everything part of their plan but one. There was only one thing for them to do, and it was jump out that window and finally, finally, be free. 

No words were exchanged between the two of them, only another small nod of acknowledgment, as Daedalus took the initiative to step up to the windowsill first. If the wings wouldn’t work, he told himself, he wanted to be the one to find out. Not Icarus. 

Icarus watched, his impatience only growing, as his father carefully climbed into the small window. He had to be careful in how he fit himself in it, so that the wings would fit as well and not be squished in the cramped space. Icarus let himself take a few steps closer, too. Because the moment Daedalus took off, it was only a matter of seconds until he would have to follow. 

The man did not look back to see Icarus’ reaction. He didn’t want the boy to realize the fear in his eyes. He didn’t want him to notice the shaking in his hands as he got so close to the edge, closer than he ever would, because normally that close would mean death. But this was not normal. They had wings, and they would fly.

“Go.”

That was the only warning Icarus had that his father had jumped. It took him longer than it should have for him to actually process what he’d just watched: his father jumping out of a window. Yes, there were wings, but for a few seconds, it simply appeared that he had fallen. He was now alone in the tower. There really was no turning back.

When he snapped back to the present, Icarus rushed over to the window and tried not to focus on how high up he was, how he couldn’t find Daedalus in the sky at first glance, how small everything was below. He forced himself to take a deep breath, climbed into the windowsill, and closed his eyes, holding his breath as he jumped.

Icarus was falling. 

That was the first and only thing he could register. He didn’t open his eyes, didn’t grant himself the horror of seeing how fast he was falling towards the ground. He knew the wings would work, Daedalus had warned him that it would take a few seconds before they actually began to glide. But those few seconds were terrifying. 

Icarus could hear his heartbeat in his ears, almost drowned out by the wind rushing past him. He could also feel that wind, through his hair, through his entire body. He felt the disorientation of tumbling, his stomach turning, heart pounding, breath taken from the shock of the moment. Panic settled in- why wasn’t he flying? He was supposed to fly. The wings clung to him, feeling more like dead weight than anything else. They weren’t working, he thought. They weren’t working, they weren’t working, they weren’t-

As he fell, Icarus suddenly felt a change. A subtle resistance to the pull of gravity. The wind slowly stopped rushing past him, and as it slowed down he reminded himself to spread his arms out even more. His eyes were still squeezed shut, but he forced himself to open them once the falling had slowed.

Icarus was flying.

He was flying like the bird he’d been watching enviously for far too long. He could no longer feel the wind rushing past him, but as the breeze picked up, he felt he was part of the wind. With his eyes open now, Icarus allowed himself to look down with no fear. He was not scared anymore. He was thrilled.

The view below was even better from the sky itself than from the window. He could actually see the rest of the town to his right, which he hadn’t been able to see from the tower. There were homes, buildings, the little ants below he realized were people, and trees- olive trees. He smiled at that. Not only at that but the fact that he was flying. He was doing it, he was finally doing it! This was the most amazing moment of his life. 

Directly below him was the sea. It was a beautiful combination of green and blue and even white with the foam from the waves. Above him was the sky, the clear sky. There were no clouds, only the bright, brilliant sun against the blue above. 

But, of course, he could never get too close to either of them.

Icarus shifted his focus. He had to find his father and follow him, as he’d been instructed. He lifted his head from admiring the sights to looking about the sky around him, letting out a breathless sigh of relief when he saw Daedalus several feet ahead of him. The man was facing him, too, as if they’d been searching for each other.

It was a strange sight, seeing Daedalus flying. The wings on his back looked so gentle, and he knew how delicate they were. They were strong, however, clearly enough to carry the large man. They looked like they didn’t quite belong on Daedalus. In a way, they almost made him look like an angel.

Icarus chuckled to himself at that thought, though it was probably a bit more animated than usual since he was already experiencing so much joy. He wondered if he, too, looked like an angel.

The father and son were far apart, but the moment their eyes met there was an unspoken understanding. Even if they couldn’t quite make out the other’s expression, even if there was no way they’d be able to hear the other if they actually spoke, they could tell how the other felt. Daedalus let himself smile at the complete, genuine joy his son was exuding. Then, making sure that Icarus was still going the right direction with him, he turned away and focused himself on flying towards the nearest island that was not the one they’d just escaped from. He could see it in the distance, not much further. They’d just have to keep going on the straight path, and they’d be there soon enough.

Icarus knew that this was the goal, to get to another island and be free. Drink fresh water, eat an olive, whatever they wanted to do. And seeing the island, so close yet so far, was only making it more exciting. 

For a long while, they simply flew. It only took Icarus a couple minutes to get the reins of the wings and figure them out. He quickly taught himself how to turn either direction, how to angle himself upwards or downwards. But he didn’t use that, of course, other than where he had to in order to direct himself in the right direction after Daedalus. He stayed close behind his father as they flew together, feeling the wind beneath his arms and breathing in the air, salty from the ocean below. 

It was then, in experimenting with the mechanics and controls of the wings, that Icarus made his mistake.

He began carefully, still heeding the warnings that Daedalus had given him. Icarus let himself glide lower, closer and closer to the water’s surface. It was gradual and considerate, not to put himself in danger. He knew the risks of getting too close, he knew that he should just stay directly behind his father. But he could still see Daedalus from where he was, a little below him now, and Daedalus was not looking back anymore. So as long as he continued to be careful, he could test the limits of the wings without them breaking. Or so he thought. 

Icarus slowly descended lower. It was almost that same feeling of free falling before, but this time much more controlled. There was not a single ounce of panic in him as he got closer to the water. The wind was rushing past him again, making it all the more exhilarating. Icarus was careful to spread the wings out as much as he could and use them the right way as to not lose control. 

When he got close enough, he could feel the water on himself. He was just low enough so that he wasn’t touching the ocean, but he could see it right there, right in front of him. The greens, the blues, the whites, the shining reflection of the sun. He could feel the cool droplets of water against his bare arms, too caught up in the pure delight of the moment to realize that the wings were being wet by the water, too.

Icarus was laughing. He was smiling. He was happier in that moment than he had ever been in his whole life. After so long being imprisoned, he felt free. This moment, being by the water, was more freedom than he could have ever imagined. He didn’t want it to end; he wanted that moment to last forever. He wished he could be suspended in time, always feeling such liberation and elation. 

Since that wish was impossible, he decided to take it a step further. 

He was already taking a major risk by allowing himself to get so close to the sea. He’d been told exactly not to do that. Icarus respected his father, loved his father, and would never intentionally go against him. But the lure of it all was too big. The feeling he got from it all was indescribable. He felt invincible. So far, Zeus had accepted their prayer for mercy in his realm and was allowing them safe passage. Maybe, Icarus dared to hope, Zeus was allowing him this moment. Maybe he was letting him risk the dangers because he understood. 

The king of Olympus was not an understanding god. But Icarus didn’t know that.

Icarus allowed himself another deep breath, breathing in the salt from the ocean, taking in the reality of the moment, before swooping back up to meet the same level as his father in the sky. Daedalus seemed not to have noticed that Icarus had done such an unsafe thing, and was continuing to fly. 

Once he was back where he was supposed to have been all along, Icarus only flew straight ahead for a minute or so until he just couldn’t resist the temptation of something different this time- not the sea, but the sun. 

Icarus looked up. If he had already gone too low without the wings being ruined, he could go a bit higher, right? Perhaps Daedalus had just been underestimating the strength of his wings. If he really had been blessed by Athena, surely they would be able to withstand a little heat from the sun. They’d survived the water, so he was certain that they’d survive the sun, too. 

So he took that risk and flew up. By this point, he had so much control over the wings, had figured out the small details with such perfection in such little time, that he knew how to raise himself higher and higher, steadily moving himself up into the sky. 

Daedalus still did not notice. He had made the mistake of trusting that his son would never be so reckless, would never be so ignorant to his own warnings. He did not look back and see that Icarus was no longer behind him. He did not know that Icarus was in fact getting so distracted and off-path that he could not even see Daedalus in the sky anymore. He did not realize that Icarus had been blinded in the most literal sense by his desires. If he had noticed, maybe he would have been able to do something to save him from himself.

Icarus, on the other hand, was relieved that his father did not realize. He knew that it would only anger him. So he could not say why he was doing it, why he was getting higher, why he was allowing himself the pleasure of attempting to reach the sun itself. It was not that he wanted to disobey his father. He did not want to go against his orders. He only wanted to have fun, and fun did he have. 

He was carried away by the moment, not realizing what he was really doing. Icarus just kept getting higher and higher, closer and closer to the sun, farther and farther from Daedalus, who remained oblivious. Icarus’ laughing had restarted again, the smiling on his face growing impossibly wider. He thought he had felt good close to the water; this was even better. The bigger the clouds and sun looked above him, the smaller everything else looked below him. He was soon able to actually feel the heat of the sun on his skin, more than one did on the ground. He could feel it on his face, like that of the flame of a candle. Warm and inviting, friendly, egging him on to get closer, convincing him that no harm could be done. He was having too much fun, being too foolish that he actually believed it. 

It stayed that way, all fun and entertaining. The pull of the sun was so incicing. The thrill of the flying itself was too great. The feeling of it all was the best thing he had ever experienced, the best high--to the most exact meaning--that he knew could ever be achieved. Icarus was, in that moment, the closest any mortal had ever been to the sun, the highest anyone had ever been in the sky. 

Icarus was the closest any mortal had been to the gods.

And he felt like a god. He felt invincible, infallible, strong, powerful, he felt unstoppable. He felt like he had become that bird that he had admired. He felt like he could fly anywhere, do anything, touch the sky. That was exactly what his mind was set on doing. 

Things didn’t change when Icarus began to smell something off. It wasn’t the smell of the ocean- no, that was long gone. He’d gone far too high for that. It was a smell that was accompanied by the sensation of something hot against his skin. Something other than the heat of the sun itself. He was so intoxicated by the pure feeling of euphoria that it took him longer than it should have for him to realize that the feeling of heat and the scent that he couldn’t put his finger on was actually coming from the wings. 

The sun was melting the wax, just as Daedalus had warned. 

Icarus didn’t stop when he felt this. He was still consumed by that sense of power and god-likeness. He didn’t want to stop, regardless of the wings melting.

Perhaps he realized that it was too late for him by then. Perhaps he realized that he was too far from the island to make it, he was flying over the middle of the ocean, not close enough to any to manage to glide himself to safety. Perhaps he realized that once the wings had begun to melt, there was nothing he could do about it. Perhaps he realized that he was going to die. 

So there Icarus was, flying like a bird for the first and last time. He didn’t let himself come to terms with the fact that he was not going to get that one olive, the fact that he was not going to have any of the hopeful future that had been promised to him. He did not want to be overwhelmed by the reality that he was not going to get to apologize to Daedalus for disobeying. He only wanted to continue feeling the hot sun, not the hot wax. To feel that freedom one last time. 

In what he realized to be his final moments, he let himself close his eyes. He once again did not want to see how quick he may have been falling to the ground once the wax completely melted from the wings. 

Icarus imagined himself to be the stick of a candle, the wings to be the wick, and the sun to be the flame. For a small time, the wick would burn. The candle would be alight, shining brilliantly, lighting up the space for as long as the wick could last. Until inevitably, the wick reached its end, the candle burning out. Until the wick finally died, reaching the stick of the candle and engulfing that, too, in flames. 

His laughter was the only sound echoing through the skies as he fell, the only thing alerting Daedalus that his son had flown too close to the sun and paid the price. 

***

His mind was still swimming. He could barely remember what happened, and didn't know where he was. He sat up but kept his eyes closed. But wait, he thought, that was wrong. He shouldn’t have been able to sit up. He was supposed to be dead. He shouldn’t even have a body anymore, he shouldn’t be anywhere other than the Underworld. But light was seeping through his closed eyelids, and he knew with absolute certainty that he was not in the dark depths of the Underworld. 

But then again, he’d also been certain that the wings would not melt under the sun.

Icarus reached a hand up to his forehead to try to stop it from pounding, almost losing his balance in the process. He took a deep breath, surprised that he had the capability to breathe. This was all wrong;  he had died. He remembered the wings breaking entirely and sending him crashing into the ocean below. He remembered death; he remembered the moments before it, too, when he’d accepted his fate. Where was he now, and why did he feel alive again? “Icarus.” The voice that spoke his name was one of power. It was deep, serious, demanding respect. It made his name no longer just a name, but a command. He forced himself to look up and open his eyes, squinting them at the figure before him.

It was a man, a man who somehow carried youthful features yet an expression weighed down by years upon years. A man who was completely ageless, both extremely old and extremely young. The man had blonde hair and wore a perfectly white toga that managed to still look bright white against his pale skin. He was muscular and had a strong jawline. Everything about the man was… perfect. It took Icarus a few moments to realize that the man was watching him emotionlessly with glowing golden eyes. Then he realized that all of him was glowing, he was shining like the sun.

Icarus realized that the man before him was no man at all. He was a god.

When the realization set in, Icarus forced himself to stand up, ignoring the dizziness. Maybe it was a bad decision of him to try to stand up in front of someone so powerful, he should probably have kneeled, but being sprawled across the ground half sat up was probably not very respectful, either. When Icarus stood, he let himself look around and noticed that their surroundings were essentially all white. They must have been in the sky somewhere, in the clouds. 

Icarus was so overwhelmed by the situation, not comprehending it all. He didn’t really think when he pointed his finger at the god--something he immediately regretted--and blurted the obvious:

“You’re Apollo.”

Then he quickly realized his error and tried to correct it with a sloppy bow. No one had ever taught the young Icarus how to act in front of a god. Thankfully, Apollo was not upset or insulted by the boy’s actions, though his expression remained blank. Icarus could not tell what he was thinking, and for some reason it made him anxious.

Apollo only nodded. “Indeed I am.” He watched as Icarus straightened up from his bow. Icarus felt like he was being scrutinized under the god’s divine eyes, and didn’t know whether to meet them or to look away. He was completely unprepared for this moment. “Take off those wings.”

Icarus hadn’t realized that the wings were still attached to him. They’d somehow stayed to his form into the afterlife- or at least he assumed this was the afterlife. He had no idea what was happening. Though now, the wings were mutilated. The wax had melted not entirely, but enough so they could not fly any longer. An entire part of the back was waxless, and everywhere else was either half-melted or had feathers missing. The sad remnants were clinging desperately to the now weakened frame. He obeyed Apollo’s order immediately and began fumbling to slide the leather straps off of him.

The wings fell soundlessly to the floor, which Icarus still didn’t know what that floor was. He then looked back up at Apollo, who still only stared at him. Icarus stood there uncomfortably for a few seconds, and then took the silent stare as his cue to step away. Once he did, Apollo stepped forward, leaned down, and picked up the wings, examining them with a certain detached interest. 

“Fine craftsmanship,” the god noted, looking at the slightly-terrified Icarus again. “I assume your father made them?” The boy nodded quickly. 

“Yes, he did. And I helped. Well, not with this pair but with his.” He then decided he should have left the answer at yes and not given unnecessary explanation. 

He really was a mess. 

Apollo nodded. He seemed to still not have been offended by Icarus’ unrehearsed nature. He simply spoke to him as if he were any other man, rather than a child who was both in awe and fear of the powerful being before him. Apollo turned his attention back to the wings, plucking a single feather off of them before dropping them back to the ground. Icarus cringed as he dropped them so carelessly but was afraid to say anything about it. 

“Do you know why you are here, Icarus?” The speaking of his name once again made him nervous, as Icarus felt so minor and insignificant in the presence of a god. His name didn’t deserve to be said by Apollo’s mouth; he didn’t deserve to be speaking with him. 

Icarus hesitated before answering. “Because… I died. But, forgive me if I am wrong, but this is not the Underworld.” Apollo waved his hand dismissively. 

“No, no, of course not. I would never go down there. It’s quite the opposite of my realm.”

His realm. It took Icarus a few moments to think about that. Apollo was the god of many things, he knew that. Medicine, prophecy, music, archery, the sun-

Oh. 

Icarus suddenly knew why he was there. His heart dropped to his stomach. He had been trying to do the impossible, to touch the sun. Daedalus had only been considering the god of the sky when deciding to pray for safe passage while flying. They hadn’t thought about the other gods who ruled the above, too. Had he upset Apollo with his recklessness?

“No, Icarus, you are not in the Underworld,” Apollo continued. “I stopped you on your path to Hades; I wanted to speak with you. Mortals die every minute, you see, but it’s not everyday I find one like you.” 

Icarus swallowed hard. The way Apollo spoke, he still couldn’t tell what he was thinking about this whole situation. He couldn’t tell if he really had offended him or not, and it was nerve-wracking. 

“I- I apologize if I insulted you, Lord Apollo,” he began carefully, the title sounding too formal for his young mouth. “I had no intention to.” Apollo shook his head. 

“Do not apologize. To me, at least. I am not insulted. If anything I am flattered, really. Most mortals fear the sun; they fear me. You, however, seem to have no such opinion. It was quite entertaining to watch, I will admit. Such courage you have for such a young boy. I must ask, Icarus, why do you not fear me?”

Icarus was taken aback by that statement. He had flattered the god? By being an idiot. It didn’t make any sense. Apollo should have been offended, he should have wanted to torture or hurt Icarus in his afterlife after he attempted to go beyond the mortal realm. But… he didn’t. Icarus didn’t know how to react. 

And the mention of his father, the reminder that he had gone directly against what Daedalus had instructed, hit Icarus like a punch to the gut. A reminder that he had disobeyed and gotten himself killed for it. He didn’t want to think about Daedalus just then; he wanted to figure out why and how he’d managed to flatter the god of the sun. Icarus took a deep breath. 

“I do fear you,” he admitted plainly. He didn’t know what more to say. 

Apollo was responding so casually that it made Icarus uncomfortable. He chuckled at his response, which didn’t make him feel any better- though Icarus had to admit that the sound of godly laughter was beautiful. “As you should, I suppose. But if you fear me, and I assume you must also fear death, why would you make such a rash decision and attempt to reach my sun?”

Icarus still was struggling to find the right words. He didn’t know how to explain his curiosity, it really had been an indescribable experience. The joy he’d felt in that moment was too much to ignore, he’d simply wanted to continue to go higher and higher. The skies had felt so limitless, the sun had felt so close. The consequences were unimportant as he flew, but now he was faced directly with them. 

“Because I wished to feel free.” That was the only explanation that Icarus could manage. Apollo raised an eyebrow.

“Free? You would have had more freedom if you hadn’t died, would you not? You gave up the rest of your life for a small taste of freedom?” 

Icarus only nodded. He was still at a loss for words, still trying to comprehend the entire interaction with someone so powerful. Apollo sighed, looking down at the small feather in his hand that he had taken from the wings. 

“Mortals are interesting creatures,” he explained. “They are born, live for so little, then die. But they find so much more to their lives. They’re born nobody, yet believe that they can become something great. It’s almost saddening to watch this endless cycle of life and death. To see the excitement in their eyes as they embark on a journey that will inevitably lead to their end. I don’t understand how you do it, how you keep yourselves so optimistic when you know that in half a century, more or less, you will be nothing more than a memory to the rest of the world.

“Mortals value their lives, no matter how insignificant. So that is why you interest me. You want to live long, you want to be important, yet you let yourself come to an early end for the sake of something as small and temporary as a fleeting feeling.” 

The god took a deep breath, running a finger down the soft feather, and looked back up at Icarus. The boy was only watching him, listening to an immortal’s perspective of mortality. If Icarus hadn’t been able to find the right words before, he was completely lost then. 

Icarus met Apollo’s gaze. The immortal was looking at him with something in his golden eyes that was noticeable now: a look of sympathy. Compassion. Perhaps even pity. 

He didn’t think a god to be capable of such human emotions. 

“I mean… I just…” Icarus tried to provide the god some explanation to his unexplainable actions. Apollo was watching him with interest as he spoke, the emotion in his expression barely there yet still noticeable. Icarus spoke slowly, his mind still turning as he explained. “I didn’t want to die. I wasn’t thinking. I had been trapped for so long… I got carried away by it all. I- I felt free, like I wanted, and I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to make that feeling last forever.” 

Apollo studied the boy before him. He took note of his imperfections, his mortality. Even in death, Icarus’ hair had been ruffled from flight. His arms were red, presumably as a result of the wax melting off the wings and onto his skin. His clothes were tattered. The look on his face was one of fear and vulnerability. Apollo was used to mortals looking at him with that sense of terror, but this was somehow different. Something about Icarus’ youth and innocence. Apollo still didn’t understand how humans worked, how they managed to make such careless decisions, how they grappled with their inescapable death. But watching this young man try to explain himself, he thought that maybe once he could at least understand. 

“You are a fascinating mortal, Icarus. That is a compliment coming from me.”

Icarus swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

This entire conversation was unnerving, but he sensed a slight change in the god’s demeanor, perhaps a tinge of compassion. And he’d just been complimented by Apollo himself. He never thought that flying too close to the sun and doing exactly the opposite of what his father told him to do would lead to a compliment from one of the most powerful beings in the universe. But of the many things he was still unsure of in that moment, there was one question that came to mind:

“What will happen to me now?” He was almost afraid to ask. 

“Well,” Apollo began. “You will go to the Underworld and be judged, as all mortals are. That will determine where you spend the rest of eternity. You are not receiving any special treatment in your afterlife; I simply wanted to speak with you. And spoken with you I have.” Icarus was silent for a few moments, but then nodded slowly. But before he could give a verbal response, Apollo spoke. “Your father will mourn you greatly.”

Icarus was once again taken aback by that. He couldn’t quite tell if that was simply the god stating the obvious, or if it was some sort of order or curse, and he was too afraid to ask. “Yes, I am aware.” But Apollo’s next words surprised him yet again.

“Do you wish for him to?” 

Icarus froze. He didn’t want Daedalus to be saddened by his death, but of course he would be. His son had died, after all. It only made sense for him to mourn the loss of his own blood, the boy he had so carefully raised and loved. The child who’d become his closest partner in life. He didn’t want his father to be in grief. 

“I wish for my father to be happy.” 

Apollo nodded thoughtfully. “Happiness. That is what you felt when you fell, correct? Daedalus will know that. He will know that you were happy.”

 Icarus’ eyes lit up. “You can do that?” He didn’t know if he would end up happy in the afterlife, or if he would receive punishment for being reckless. But at least in that moment, that small moment with Apollo, he was happy again. And Icarus knew that if Daedalus knew that, it would make him happy, too. Happiness was something neither of them had felt in so long. It was another feeling that had made the flight so intoxicating for Icarus.

“Yes,” Apollo said. “I can do many things.”

Then, before Icarus could express his gratitude, before he could say or do anything more, the entire moment shattered. Apollo disappeared, everything around them was gone. 

His conversation with the god was done. He was no longer in the in-between of life and death. Icarus was dead and would have to face the consequences of his actions. He would have to be judged, his eternal fate decided once and for all. 

But he would do all this with the knowledge that his father would know how he felt in those final moments. He would go to the Underworld knowing that he was happy then and now. He would enter the beginning of his afterlife knowing that eventually, Daedalus would get over the loss of his son. 

Icarus didn’t know what Apollo gained from that conversation. He didn’t understand why the god had taken such interest in him. But he did know one thing for certain:

He had died, yes, but he had felt freedom. He had found that feeling of happiness that had been missing for so long. Perhaps he had a small sense of remorse for his actions. If he hadn’t died, he would have been free with Daedalus, and they could have lived long lives together out of the tower that had confined them for so long. But in the end, he accepted his fate. He really was happy.

Because even if it killed him, he had touched the sun.

the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 xxcxelum

[prkhwaseong]

I feel the same way honestly. So much has happened this year and it's bittersweet that it's coming to an end already. I am excited to see what more will happen for my group next year though as we grow and create more. For me, it has to be getting to headline at Coachella, getting the top of the Billboard 200 twice, getting to date my best friend again after we broke up before, and getting the chance to attend a show for fashion week. There's been a ton more that my group and I have gotten to do but I'll be here forever listening them all, haha.

is anyone else a little on the sad side about the fact that the year is coming to an end? don't get me wrong - i'm all for a new year and can't wait to ring it in, but 2024 has felt so important to me that i just want to hold onto it for a little bit longer. it was the year that i released my second album, did a solo tour, married the girl of my dreams, welcomed my first son with her, started writing 5sos6 with the boys, and so many other things. it has been a dream come true. if you see me crying over it then look away, thank you. what major life event happened for you in 2024? don't care if it's something personal or professional, i wanna hear all about it.

@hfrpstarters

[jimalim]

I have entered the last rotation of my 20s This time next year I will be officially old lolol

[elfsyellowflowerzart]

very busy babysitting a duo of kittens (only two months old) the last few days but i shall be drawing when i return home (this includes requests)

and also if anyone wants to see the babies send an ask and i can post them in response hehe i have taken SO many photos

[red-eft]

most alarming thing to hear at night: random thud from quemada's terrarium. ms. girl some of us r trying to sleep

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

just saw an american girl from my high school is in the philippines and she’s posting about it and like. it’s so irrational of me lmao but i felt so instinctively defensive immediately like i’m pretty sure she’s not the type to do weird white people shit but like. idk. i’m so weird about this

[pastellmochi]

my moots who dont gaf ab paralive watching me lose it over kenta focus 1/29

here is sillydraw <33333333

[blkkizzat]

❝DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY!❞

⏯ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER

⏭ summary: your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? college au.

⏭ cw: virgin!satoru, gentle sex then rough sex , spanking (ass & pussy), slight sugar daddy/baby dynamic, coercion, dubcon, ecchi/pervy/freak nasty satoru, apprehensive bimbo!reader scared to nut, reader is also a bit of a tsundere brat but this isn't brat taming per se, oral fixation, toe licking, riding, prone bone, missionary, pussy eating, deep-throating, forced gagging, fingering, squirting, edging, olfactophilia, hand-job, protected & unprotected sex, bdsm references, masturbation, bit of somnophilia, pet names: Bunny (reader is called that in lieu of y/n), suggestions of geto x reader, mentions of satosugu and shokohime.

⏭ a/n: in my crack smut bag again cause this white haired demon wont let me rest until i write this nasty shit. fr tho this fic 13.3k and literally 10k of it is Gojo fucking you six ways to sunday. fyi this is the same y/n from nerd!geto but this is a different version of that AU where suguru is the one who has rizz and satoru is the nerd. y'all better read this or i'll never write gojo again istg lmfao. also shoutout to @halosdiary for beta reading and telling me it was good enough to post lol.

eta: y'all won. its a series now lol

“FUCK YEAH, LET’S GO!!! I ALONE AM THE CHAMPION OF THE DIGITAL WORLD!!!”

Startled by Gojo’s sudden outburst—you nearly rolled off the bed. 

Thankfully Suguru is sitting next to you and caught you before you fell off completely. 

Fully energized by his win Gojo sprang up from his elaborate PC setup, bouncing around the room in celebration. Fist-pumping the air he couldn’t contain his excitement after winning the Tokyo Regional Qualifiers for the Digimon Online TCG. 

“Guys, hey guys! See! I told you I’d win! I’m the strongest! The digidestined!”

You and Suguru exchanged exasperated glances before side-eyeing the hell out of Gojo.

This went on for a good 10 minutes so you had since returned to mindlessly scrolling TikTok, not wanting to encourage your grown-ass-almost-22-years-old-best-friend’s excitement over a children’s game.

“You sure showed those middle schoolers, Toru.”

Suguru quips with a smile. He’s clearly being sarcastic but Gojo is unfazed—nothing could damper his mood.

“Damn straight I did!”

Both you and Suguru have to chuckle, rolling your eyes at his childish enthusiasm. 

Despite the shared sentiment of annoyance over your best friend’s hobbies, you both were just happy to have Gojo back again. Two long years had passed since his parents made him travel the world on a rotation program, tasked with visiting the various Six-Vision Industries offices he would one day inherit. 

Being the nerdy genius he was, Gojo stacked a mass of university level credits in high school. So even with missing the first two years of college he’d still be joining you as a third year at your university come fall. 

After being apart for so long it was refreshing to hang out again and kicking it at Gojo’s mansion had been a daily occurrence since the start of the summer. Although things had definitely changed in the two years Gojo had been away there was one thing that certainly hadn’t.

Gojo was still a fucking huge otaku nerd. 

You’d thought his time spent in the business world would have matured him. However, being abroad, away from his friends and spending all day around the ‘stinky old fogeys in suits’ as he called them, only made him retreat further into otakudom. 

That much was evident as his collection of posters, figures and manga had somehow only seemed to grow even with him away. 

“Alright, while I just would love to stick around and hear more about you destroying the dreams of 12 year olds Toru—beach girl just texted me, gotta bounce!”

Suguru tries to leave but Toru clings onto him practically spider monkeying himself onto his back in an effort to get him to stay. 

“Sugu! Don’t leave! We’ve already been apart from each other for too long~~”

Sighing, Suguru attempts to pry his incorrigible bestie off of him.

“Satoru, you just spent the last 5 hours playing Digimon acting like me and Bunny weren’t even here. I’m sure if you go back to playing you won't even miss me.”

Gojo continues to pout as he whines for Suguru to stay.

“But I miss you already Sugu!”

Gojo presses his cheek against Suguru’s as Suguru’s eyebrow begins to twitch.

“I know! Invite your date here! Our chef is 10 times better than any restaurant you’d go to and you know we have an infinity pool grotto and onsen!

While the offer was tempting as any potential date would be thoroughly wowed by the decadent splendor that was the Gojo Family Residence—Suguru would also thoroughly cuck himself once his date was given the grand tour. 

Particularly the stop which included Gojo’s anime figure and otaku memorabilia rooms. 

While a good number of them were harmlessly nerdy shonen or slightly ecchi isekai figures—the rest? Well the rest contained every kind of freak nasty hentai figure you could think of—shibari, futanari and even the classic La Blue Girl tentacle dioramas—it was like a horny museum. 

Although at this point it should be considered a horny mausoleum as no woman who walked in would be walking out still in the mood—it was surely a place where horny went to die.

“Uh yeah, sure next time Toru….”

Suguru reaches back to pat Gojo on the head reassuringly. 

Lying as he was more than certain there wouldn’t be a next time. There wasn’t even going to be dinner—this was purely a hookup situation. 

“...but she’s already waiting for me outside my place—gotta run!”

Realizing Gojo still wasn’t letting go, Suguru sighs realizing this would require him utilizing his Judo training. 

In one swift movement, Suguru manages to shoulder-wheel Gojo and toss him onto the other side of his massive bed. The bed rebounds as he lands, slightly lifting you off your belly but you still are more interested in your phone. 

This isn’t the first time Suguru has Judo thrown Gojo off of him (likely wouldn’t be the last either).

Saying quick goodbyes before Gojo could recover, Suguru manages to slip away.

“Traitor!!! So much for bros before hoes!”

Utterly dejected, Gojo crawls up next to you on his massive bed.

“At least I still have you here Bunny.”

“Uh, not to pile on but you know I’m only here until Shoko and Utahime text me they are ready to go to the mall, right? I’m in dire need of a new handbag!”

Now clinging on to you Gojo throws another small tantrum as the weight of half his sinewy body presses into your back, his lean muscular arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“Not you too, Bunny puhleeease!”

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers so it wasn’t odd for you, him or Suguru to be found giving the others platonic cuddles like this—often all together too. The both of them were always so much bigger than you so you often enjoyed the comfort and security of always being the filling in the cuddle sandwich.

Gojo rests his chin on your shoulder watching as you continue scrolling TikTok. You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before his irritatingly hyperactive nature gets the best of him, and he starts poking around your phone to click on other videos that weren’t the 'mystery and makeup' ones you were watching.

“Toru, you know you could get a lot of your own hoes to hang out with if you weren’t such a huge otaku nerd…”

You had to swat Gojo’s hand away again as he tries to click on another prank video and he rolls off of you with a frustrated sigh. 

“...you’re almost as good looking as Suguru…”

Muttering the last part of that under your breath. Arguably Gojo’s features were just as if not more striking than Suguru’s. 

He was too hot himself for all of it to go to waste for being such a big dork.

“I’m sure Sugu would be happy to teach you ‘the way of the fuckboy’ if you asked Toru—that is if you’d actually go out clubbing like a normal 21 year old.”

“Why would I do that though? My house is 100 times better than a club!” 

Touché. 

While no one in your friend group was what someone would consider poor, Gojo’s wealth paled in comparison to anyone else’s and that went without saying. He’d had everything—if not more—than even the nicest tokyo club had. This was all thanks to his parents as socialites in their own right, often entertaining businessmen, dignitaries or foreign representatives with their ultra-exclusive parties.

“Besides, it wouldn't work—”

Gojo continued to pout.

“—Suguru would just get all the hoes anyway.” 

Easily able to walk up to even the most standoffish looking women, Suguru would have them reduced to bashful school girls in under 5 minutes. The women were always willing to hand over their numbers or drop any immediate plans to hang out with Suguru instead.

A good number of them had boyfriends already too.

Yet despite having the looks, Gojo opening his mouth ruined any advantage his lustrous blue eyes, exotic snow white hair and sharp handsome features gave him.

“Well, Suguru has a normal 21 year old’s room for starters, Toru. Not full of nerdy ass anime posters and Digimon tournament trophies.”

Gojo goes quiet. 

Driven from an early age to fill his head with knowledge of politics, technology, and international business relations, he spent the precious free time he did get with his friends or consumed by his own interests. Interests which just happened to be a bunch of otaku shit—Digimon in particular. 

It was an escape he’d cherished as a child and that didn’t change growing into adulthood either, if anything he needed it more now.

When Gojo doesn’t answer you look over to see him actually sulking for real now—face buried in a giant Agumon pillow plushie. 

What a crybaby. 

But the crybaby was one of your besties so you decided to lighten the mood and tease him a little.

“Ya know Toruuuu….you could just fuck Sugu then. Don’t think I haven’t seen y’all get a lil’ handsy during our cuddles!”

You give him a playful smirk and mime grabby hands at him.

“Oh and you haven’t? Don’t act like you wouldn’t fuck Suguru either!”

No longer appearing mopey, Gojo is up and laughing again. Mission Accomplished.

“Hey! I never said I wouldn’t but this isn’t about me, this is about you finally getting some play!”

You snap back but you’re blushing.

Like damn, who hadn’t thought about fucking Suguru though? 

“It's not the same if he makes me bottom! Plus no one thinks I can get pussy!”

Gojo grumbles, hugging his Agumon plushie to his cheek. 

You can’t help but notice how cute and baby girl he looks all pouty. 

He’d definitely get women lining up around the block of his huge ass mansion if he could at least get to the dating phase without giving out the otaku ick. 

“Because you can’t Gojo—Hoes don’t want to fuck guys who play Digimon!”

“But you’re a hoe and you like digimon too!”

Turning to look at him, you’d had half a mind to slap the shit out of Satoru but he had said it so earnestly. There was no sass nor malice behind his words. 

Besides, you were a hoe. That wasn’t something you ever denied.

You sigh. 

“Yeah I am a hoe now and I—keyword—liked Digimon. But that was back when I was a kid, Toru!”

Gojo scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Listen, you’re my friend so m’gonna keep it a buck with you—a guy concerned with being digidestined is definitely not pussy destined, you digidork!”

You playfully hit him with the pillow you were laying on, not wanting him to start sulking again. 

Finally stimulated by something interesting Gojo wastes no time joining the pillow fight you initiated and you tussle with him on the bed until you both are exhausted and out of breath. 

Of course you come out of it victorious though. By the end you’d pinned both the pillows and Toru under you. 

Gojo however is back to pouting.

“Ugh, Bunny seriously though—I can’t go into junior year of college as a virgin!”

You smirk at his complaints as the answer is obvious.

“Throw away your figures and digimon cards then.”

“I’d rather die.”

“A virgin? At this rate you will.”

Gojo huffs in defeat as you settle comfortably on top of him this time. 

You’re about to reach for your phone again until you see a curious look flash across his face—the kind of look he always had as a kid when he thought of a hair-brain scheme that would lead to getting you all in trouble.

“Toru—what is it? And why do I have the feeling m’not gonna like it?”

You pull away cautiously, but his large hands grip your waist, stopping you and causing you to squeak in surprise.

“Hm, I dunno—was just thinkin’... why don’t you fuck me, Bunny?”

Your deadpan expression has Gojo scrambling, holding you closer in a vice grip when you try to squirm away. 

“Hey! Wait, I’m serious! Come on, Bunny! I need the experience and you always tell us about all your hookups! You have the experience—help a guy out!”

Staring at him skeptically you considered.

I mean sure, you always thought Gojo was attractive, more so since he returned this summer nearly a half a foot taller—but he was Gojo Satoru.

Your dorky, goofy, pervy otaku bestie practically since birth! 

You couldn’t just go and fuck him could you?

God, you could only imagine the taunts you’d get if word got out. Your friend group would never let you live it down! 

“Nah Toru—that would be too weird!”

“Huh, how come? You said I was almost as attractive as Suguru earlier!”

You stiffen.

Fuck, he’d heard that after all. 

“Ooo, ooo! Annnnd, you said last week you wanted a sugar daddy… Well, hi! I’m right here!”

The huge grin on his face has you frowning although more so because he was actually making some sense for once. I mean you were half-joking when you said it—well, let’s be honest not really. 

However, you mostly said it because while your family was well off enough, you still weren’t living in the lap of luxury by any means like a Gojo clan member. Unfortunately for you though, you were born with the expensive tastes of someone who was. So while you could afford a cute Chanel bag or a MCM wallet here or there, you’d set your sights on something higher—a coveted Hermes Birkin. 

Toru certainly could afford to buy you a whole truck load of them with what his family made in less than an hour. 

Nevertheless that wasn’t really the issue at hand. 

In spite of you being far from a virgin, there was actually a good reason why you wouldn’t be a good choice for Gojo to lose his v-card.

“Er, em—that’s really not the issue, Toru…” 

Trailing off you’re the one pouting now as you glance at your nails. 

“Then what? Don’t tell me our lil’ Bun Bun is shy now? Over lil’ ol’ me?”

Gojo teases you by sticking out his tongue—chuckling when you snap your head up to glare at him.

“You wish…” 

You grumble, chewing your lip now and debating whether or not to tell him the truth while Gojo looks at you with wide and glassy puppy eyes. Shaking your head you come to the conclusion you could trust him with your secret. 

He was the virgin otaku after all—he’s the one who should be embarrassed here!

“It’s just that…I–I can’t cum.”

Gojo just blinks at you. 

Clearly confused with metaphorical question marks surrounding his head as that's definitely not the answer he was expecting.

“I’ve slept with plenty of guys before but I never had an orgasm. I don't even really get close—I mean, sure, it feels good, I guess—mostly just a little weird. I heard some people just can’t and maybe that's me.”

You shrug, a bit nervous to look Gojo in the eye as you thought he may tease you further about this but was lost in contemplation. Almost as if he was seriously trying to do the biological math around what you’d just told him.  

After about a minute more he finally asks—

“—Does Suguru know?”

A simple question, unloaded in tone as Gojo is genuinely curious but it leaves you flustered nonetheless. 

“What?! Are you crazy?! Why would I tell him?!”

“Just figured if anyone could then—”

“—Hell no, Toru! Besides, what if he does? I’m not trying to be reduced to a fuckboy’s pick me if he ends up being the only man alive who can give me an orgasm!”

Sure Suguru was hot as fuck—as was a lot of your other fuckboy friends (Toji and Sukuna)—but you definitely didn’t want to end up like the dickmatized girls that would follow them around and literally box each other in the streets over some cock. 

You weren’t much of a fighter anyway and your face was far too cute to be getting scratched up.

Pussy should be put on a pedestal, not the other way around. You’d continue to be orgasmless before it came to that.

“Mm, but Shoko and Utahime know?”

You’re blushing more than ever this time.

“Um, yeah—T-They said once I realized all men were worthless to call them and they’d give me multiple of them.”

Gojo snorted at that but he was now convinced you both could help each other. 

“So we have no other options—then it's settled!”

In one fluid motion Gojo snatches away the pillows from between you and swaps positions—now with you on the bottom.

“Huh–wait—Toru!?”

Gojo groans.

“Come on, Bunny! I want pussy, you want to cum on top of getting that Bikram bag—

“—Birkin bag.” 

You corrected him.

“Yeah that one! So let’s help each other out, eh?  PULHEEEASEEE—Just the tip?”

You weren’t at all convinced that Gojo—whose sexual knowledge came purely from JAV, hentai and onaholes—could make you cum.

But then again sure, fuck it, why not?

You were getting bored waiting for Shoko to call you anyway and if Toru was willing to come off a Birkin for a lil’ pussy, you might as well fuck him. 

None of the other guys you had fucked even came close to making sex this worth it. Frankly this would be worth it even if you didn’t actually cum.  

“Fiiiine Toru, let’s have sex—”

“FUCK YEAH!”

“—BUT we’re laying down some ground rules!”

Sitting up with a straight back, Gojo obediently awaited your orders.

“Anything you want Bunny, name 'em go’on!”

Gojo’s overenthusiasm was like a puppy and you were sure if he had a tail it would be thumping on the bed like crazy now. 

You wanted to crack a smile but you know from prior experience that if you give men an inch they will take the whole goddamn mile—and Gojo of all people was no exception—so you are firm as you sit up to look in his eyes and lay down the law.

 “First—like you said, just the tip.”

Gojo started to protest but the raise of your eyebrows had him changing his tune immediately.

“Got it! Got it! Just the tip would be amazing Bunny, what else?”

He chided himself and you continued.

“And secondly, just because you bros have no loyalty, it’s still ‘chicks before dicks’ over here. You better get your nut quick cause I’m still leaving to go purse shopping when Shoko and Utahime call me.”

Gojo waves you off with that rule. 

“Psh, we should have plenty of time, it's almost 6pm! They’ve probably been too busy bumping their own purses together to go shopping with you for one. You haven’t heard from either of them in hours!”

Fair point—wildly out of pocket, but fair. 

Still. 

“Bumping Purses!? Really, Toru?”

“You know I’m not lying—but that’s it then, right Bunny?”

Not waiting, Gojo throws his shirt off and starts fumbling with the ties on his sweats before you stop him.

“Nah, Toru, hold your horses! One more rule!”

Freezing mid-action, Gojo's hands are shaking as he expectantly gazes at you, waiting for the last condition before you give him the green light.

“Finally, third—and most fucking importanly—if you make any, and I mean even just ONE—otaku reference, especially Digimon while you’re inside me I’ll snap your lil’ digidick off, understood?”

Gojo swallowed. 

Hard terms to live with but something he would be willing to abide by for pussy.

“Yes ma’am! Got it! Just the tip, you will ditch me for the purse bumpers and no Digimon!”

Gojo repeats your rules matter-of-factly. 

You roll your eyes but are satisfied enough he understood and you wave him off in the direction of your bag.

“Good. Now, be a good boy and go get a rubber out of my purse.” 

Bolting over to your purse Gojo grabs a pack of condoms and is back on the bed in an instant.

Reality sinking in on what you were about to do and who you were about to do it with, you suddenly become hyper aware, appraising Gojo. 

You note just how much in the two years since high school he’s grown. Still a bit lanky in areas but overall he filled out more for sure and his muscles were much more defined rippling underneath his skin as he eagerly clambered over you. Gojo still possessed the same piercing sky blue eyes that lit up a room but they looked all too predatorily hungry now that he was hovering over you. 

You swallow.

You’d feel almost completely out of control of the situation if it wasn’t also for the bundle of nervous energy radiating off of Gojo—his hands spasming like he might bust his pants the moment he touches you.

You try to maintain your composure, but your jaw drops and your eyes widen in shock when he finally pushes his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion.

Gojo was fucking huge!

“Toru—what the actual fuck?!”

Third leg was a massive understatement. 

I mean you didn’t think he’d be small—you’d been around him enough in boxers, sweats, pjs, etc growing up—but you didn’t expect this. 

He was definitely a grower and Christ did he just fucking grow!

Gojo looked puzzled until he followed your wide eyed gawking down to his lower half. 

Heh. 

“Am I the biggest you’ve seen, Bunny?”

Growing prideful Gojo pokes at you a bit and your ogling only grows more incredulous. 

You didn't know if he was the girthiest but certainly the longest by far. He’d actually puncture a lung if he stuck that whole monstrous thing in you!

It would literally have to be just the tip and you are thanking God right now that he’d already agreed to those terms. That would be much too uncomfortable to cum from and you are beginning to question how the pornstars manage. This wasn’t a JAV but Gojo, if his company ever went belly up, certainly had a promising career on OnlyFans ahead of him.

Gojo’s chest puffed up ten times more from your staring as he slipped the condom on (which only fit two-thirds of the way down). 

“O-Ok, Bunny now you!”

His cock throbbed more violently the longer you looked at him. The anticipation is contagious to say the least and you can't help but feel your chest warm at his eagerness. 

Gojo wants to get the attention off of him and you smile at him knowingly.

“You mean you don’t want to take my clothes off yourself?”

The thought never occurred to Gojo but he dumbly nodded. Your yelps echo in the room as his massive hands are on your hips faster than lighting pulling you towards him. 

The motion causes your tits to jiggle, the soft mounds moving freely beneath your spaghetti strapped halter and Gojo berates himself on how he only now is noticing you weren’t wearing a bra all this time. 

Gojo’s mouth goes dry at your nipples, already peaked and poking through the thin fabric. 

Your nipples pucker further when the crisp air of the A/C hits them after Gojo pulls your top overhead and you arch up to assist, not realizing you presented yourself to him like a treat to a dog. 

“T-Toru!!!!”

Gojo wraps his strong sturdy arms fully around your body. Pressing his face deep into your chest as his warm wet lips latch onto a nipple. His mouth now suctioned to you, Gojo swirls and flicks his tongue around the hardened bud. Gojo moans around your flesh, pleasantly surprised at how addicting the sweet salty taste of your skin is. 

If Gojo wasn’t sure he had an oral fixation before he surely knows now. Zoning out everything else except for the sloppy sounds of him worshiping your breast, he relishes the contrasting textures of his rough tongue suckling the soft skin of your swelling bud. 

Gojo surely would have been latched onto you for hours and you are only able to pry his head away when he releases your nipple with a wet pop to take a breath.

“TORU!!!”

You’re panting and red faced as you yank his head back. 

But Gojo is a man solely focused—tongue hanging out off his mouth captivated by how cutely your areola puffed as it glistened with his spit and fighting overwhelming desire to get the other one in a similar state.

“Huh–Bunny, b-baby—you taste so good n’ your tiddies are so nice—so fuh-kin’ soft.”

Gojo’s tongue is hanging out of his mouth drooling as he attempts to dive back into your chest. you feel his heavy cock on your thigh as his hips begin to rut against you. 

This was too much!

“Stop Toru! You’re being too rough, they are sensitive! Besides, times’ ticking! Remember I have no problem leaving you blue balled if Shoko or Utahime call me!” 

You do your best to give him a disapproving look as you blush.

“Awe but you seemed like you were liking it, you were whining loud enough.”

“Shut up n’just get on with it!”

“Yes ma’am~~”

Enjoying your breasts so much Gojo almost forgot he hadn’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. 

Making quick work of your shorts, Gojo manages to pull them down just over your core but is stunned once again as he burns the image of the skin-melding fabric of the mesh hot pink g-string covering your cunt. The thin satiny straps dug into your supple hips amplifying your curvaceous form.

Fucking slutty as hell!  

Rivaling that of even his most favorite and most scandalous hentai figures. 

This was so much better, so much more lewd as the clingy fabric struggles to cover the fat of your plump pussy lips—not like the transparency of them left much to the imagination. 

God help him, he just wants to tear them off with his teeth and open mouth swan-dive into your dewy lil’cunt—-pushing his tongue deep into your peachy core tongue fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you until he drowned in your milky nectar—but he has to restrain himself.

You probably wouldn’t like that too much given your reaction earlier and he’d die if you’d happen to just call the whole thing off.

Mouth drying and hands twitching—Gojo is trying so hard to be a good boy and contain his more perverted instincts.

“Earth to Toru! Y-You good?”

Gojo looked like a tightly wound coil ready to pop in every sense of the word and you hated that his nervousness was making you nervous too. 

So on edge you almost jumped once his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

“G-Great, Bunny…j-just fine.” 

Gojo’s voice falters, becoming more pitchy and you giggle. As much as Gojo wants to look at your pussy as he peels the flimsy moist fabric off of them he couldn’t do that at this moment—he would actually bust his pants.

Instead, Gojo leans in to kiss you, but you block him. He ends up kissing your palm instead.

“Toruuu… that be too weird, we’re friends remember?”

“Yeah friends who are fucking, Bunny! You mean you won’t let my tongue in your mouth but you’re letting my dick inside your pussy?!”

You knew it sounded nonsensical even before he said it back to you. But your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could barely hear him anyway.

You didn’t know what you were scared of this time? 

You had let all your other previous hookups makeout with you but Gojo was different. 

This felt entirely different.

You didn’t know why, you just knew it was and you were apprehensive of the unfamiliar emotions he was stirring in you and this wasn’t supposed to be anything more than an arrangement between friends.

“Don’t you need to warm up tho Bunny? Obviously m’no pro at this—but even I know a little bit more foreplay is usually needed?”

Your heart beats louder at his concern but you push that aside trying to focus on your breaths. 

Satoru should have been the easiest lay but for a reason that alludes—you were coming undone before him.

“Shut up Toru and just fuck me! The foreplay stuff doesn't matter, it won't make a difference anyway, m’not gonna cum! Also you’re big af so grab your lube. We're gonna need lots of it!”

Toru pouts but follows your commands without fuss. 

Although he’s anxious to get his dick wet he also is still thinking of how he can hold up his end of the bargain other than a stupid purse. 

You said he didn’t need to but he wanted to. 

The thought of finally losing his v-card excited him but there was something that made his cock throb harder at being the first man to give you an orgasm. 

But you don’t want him to touch you beyond what was absolutely necessary, so how was he going to accomplish that exactly?  

Gojo was a genius and had the IQ score to prove it, he’d be able to solve the problem once he was inside you, right? 

Turning back to face you after retrieving the lube from his nightstand, Toru has to grab the base of his cock this time to keep from prematurely coming in the latex that was already starting to thicken with his precum.

There you were laid out like a slut—panties pulled to the side—fingering yourself a bit to loosen up, having reconsidered his suggestion of foreplay when the twitching on your thigh reminded you of how big he actually was.

“OH SHI—”

You notice his jaw hanging open, utterly entranced as his eyes follow the motions. 

You knew you should be letting him do this to get the experience but honestly there was no sense in setting Gojo up for failure—delivering a significant blow to his ego when he inevitably couldn’t make you cum. You didn’t want to damage him even more if he felt it was his fault your pussy was apparently broken, you having tensed up completely every time a guy had tried before.

But you can’t deny you are getting some pleasure—if only through your own amusement—as you grab his cock and pump the lube he poured down his latex covered shaft, still fingering yourself—much to Gojo’s delight and wonder of seeing an actual real pussy up close. 

Gojo sucks in air and groans pitifully as your hand spreads the cool gel over his length which only intensifies his ache to be inside of you. 

“C’mere, Toru…”

You beckon sweetly, guiding him forward with your back against the pillows, you tease the crown of his tip through your folds preparing him for missionary. 

Gojo nearly bites a chunk out of his lip when his thick cockhead finally catches over your slicked entrance and you’re left wincing.

“T-Toru, e-easy—o-ok? Not too deep...”

A breathy confirmation shudders out of Gojo as he’s easing himself into your warm tightening cunt. The stretch is immediate which mentally confirms for you he is also the girthiest you’ve ever had as well. 

Your heels dig into his hips to brace yourself while he hovers over you, arms shaking.

“FUUUUUHHHH—”

Even with the rubber on, Gojo still thinks he might melt from how warm and tight you are—so much better than even his onahole with the custom grip and heating features. 

Screwing his eyes shut, Gojo has to count backwards from a million, recite Japan’s national anthem, list the GDPs of the top 10 wealthiest countries—anything—or he will cum too soon or worse, crack and drive his hips until he’s all the way to the hilt from the way your dangerous lil’ pussy is sucking him in.

God, it felt like your slutty cunt had a mind of its own calling for him to push in a lil’ deeper, greedily begging for him to go a lil’ further but Gojo resists. 

Sweat beads on his brow from the exerted effort of sheer willpower to keep his promise to you.

To Gojo’s credit, he really is doing his best, only a little less than a third but due to his length that's still a lot. 

Your eyes wander up to Gojo’s face and away from where he is wholly splitting you open, lest you clench on him even tighter and you knew you needed to relax. Even if you weren't really feeling much but the overwhelming strain from the tight fit, looking at Gojo you were happy that he appeared to be in bliss at least. 

His eyes still squeezed shut, mouth hanging open and spittle flowing down his jaw Gojo was in his own world as he continuously babbled nonsense about how perfect your cunt felt around him.

Just the tip in you for all of 20 seconds and already pussy drunk from just this much. 

“B-Bunny, Oh SHHIII–B-Bunny—m’cute Bun—FAH-ACK s’gud—m’gonna cum soon UHH–pussy feels s’good—oh-oh my god!” 

Although his entire body is quaking with pleasure, the few functional brain cells that survived the fiery blaze of your sinful lil’ pussy are still thinking of you. 

Gojo tries to give some attention to your neglected lil’ clit, but a single swipe causes your leg to jerk and you promptly push his hand away again.

“N-NO! Pleaseee, m’too sensitive Toru! J-Just focus on your thrusts! Y-You’re s’close, m’can feel your cock twitching i-i-inside me...”

Gojo wants to challenge you on this—suspecting from the way your cunt felt constricting around him you felt something pleasurable then—but he’s too far gone and much too inexperienced to keep focused on anything else. 

Especially when you are so explicitly describing him fucking you. 

Grabbing his face you bring your foreheads to touch to help calm him so he’d last a bit longer. Although you still hold his face to prevent him from kissing you, he's close enough that you're sharing the same breath, now looking into each other's eyes. 

He struggles to maintain eye contact though before the magnetism of your heated core had them rolling back again.

You're still not close to cumming, yet you are beginning to enjoy the warm comforting feeling of being this full as he holds you close, his short thrusts gaining momentum. 

Sharing intimacy with someone you actually cared about for once is really nice and you wouldn't mind having more sex like this even if you couldn't cum. 

Thumbing over Gojo’s moist lips you coo sweet praises to him as he desperately moans around your delicate appendage. Suckling your thumb between his lips and nursing on it until he can no longer contain the heavy breaths that overpower him and fan across your face. 

Sharing the same exhaled breath is making you light headed and you mewl at the keen sensations it stirs in your pussy that has him full on gasping now. Gojo releases the whiniest moan as he falls into you, unable to support his arms any longer. 

Showering your neck with open mouth kisses as his body curls more into yours.

However it all proves far too much when Gojo faltering more in his promise, slips more than halfway into your cunt—instantly filling the latex as it balloons inside of you as you scrape your heels against his back.

SHIIIIIT! He s’big! 

Despite nearly splitting your poor pussy into two at the end though, Gojo did such a good job for his first time. 

You’d forgive him just this once though as you wrapped your arms around his head, gently petting his undercut. His heaving breaths quiet under your soothing touches, finally ceasing the stream of his spit and tears that had been pooling in your collarbone.

Staying like that for a while holding him while his heartbeat calms to match yours and his length softens inside you. You close your eyes peacefully for a few moments before you hear your phone vibrate next to you. 

It's Shoko!

Shoko’s text apologizes for the delays and offers to get dinner instead—promising to go shopping with you and Utahime tomorrow since they got held up and you make plans for dinner in two hours. 

Perfect. That gives you plenty of time to clean up and get yourself presentable. 

“Did you cum even a lil bit, Bunny?”

Oh sweet baby, if you have to ask…You think to yourself but it's not poor Toru’s fault your pussy is out of order.

“Um, no Toru baby—but you did so well! Ya know you’re actually pretty cute and considerate when you get a little pussy. I’m sure you’ll manage to make any girl you happen to get naked happy!”

Gojo counters you with a disappointed look still panting slightly as he pulls out and rolls over bringing you towards him to cuddle. Allowing him, reasoning that you don’t have to get up right this second.

Yoour back meets his chest and it’s then you notice the condom still inside you. Figures since it was much too small in the first place. Yet you couldn’t complain as it managed to do its job due to Satoru not going all the way in. Breathing out you grimace a bit as you still had to give it a pretty good tug to lodge the filled latex out of your sore cunt. 

“Goddamn Toru, you were pretty backed up huh?”

Having witnessed the entire display from over your shoulder and the sight of the light blue rubber covered in your fluids while drooping heavily with his own has Gojo’s dick stirring again as you jiggle the rubber demonstrating its fullness before tossing it into the bin beside his bed. 

Conflicted Gojo broods for a while as he hugs you to him. 

While his body felt mostly satisfied, seeing you still unsatisfied put a huge damper on his mood. 

Sure you had told him you couldn’t come—but would any girl cum without much foreplay or stimulation? 

Even the darker hentais and JAVs he’s seen had more foreplay than this!

Hmmm... 

Thinking over the experience again in his mind he had a hunch that if right could cure your lack of orgasms but needed you to let him fuck you once more to be sure. 

“So you’re gonna hit and quit just like that, Bunny?”

He teases clinging onto you again when you try to maneuver out of his embrace.

“No time for more cuddles Toru—Shoko texted, we’re getting dinner in two hours.”

“Wait! Bunny! That’s so far away—Let me go again, pleeeease!”

Gojo is determined this time to make you cum for real! And, yeah you know—your slick heat sliding up and down his cock again would be a highlight too.

“Toru–”

“—Come on bunny! We solved my problem but we haven't fixed yours, you still haven't cum yet!”

“Toru, I thought we understood we were never going to solve my problem in the first place—so don't stress! Also I know this is probably the first time a girl has said this to you and actually meant it—but it's really not you!”

Gojo puts his negotiation face on. 

You wanted to play hardball? Bet.

“I’ll give you my black card for a whole week!”

Gojo turns you around to look him in the eye so you could see how sincere he was, he really wanted to try again—he knew he could make you cum this time!

You sighed. 

You couldn't really be mad at him—in fact, it was actually the cutest thing—that he wanted to keep trying for your benefit—but you didn’t see the point when it would just lead to the same result. You don’t even need to glance down to see Gojo’s cock was just as resolute as he’s already recovered and fully bricked—length pulsing against your ass. 

Well—given his last performance you were sure he’d last all of five minutes and if you had his black card for a whole week you were about to tear the entire Hermes store up—a Birkin and a Kelly in every color!

Hell, maybe you could even get the coveted baby pink ostrich one. 

“Mmm’kay, Toru—black card for a week! No limit!”

“Yup of course! Oooh no—Wait, no rubbers and I'll let you have my new g-wagon too! I hear raw sex is sooo much better you will cum for sure then Bunny!”

Well you knew a good bargain when you heard it.

Throwing the unopened condoms to the side you laid back down.

Imported European cars are stupid expensive to get in Japan and if he was coming off a g-wagon—especially as it was a custom powder blue matte with dune colored seats and shiny platinum rims—then he could have as many two-minute pump sessions as he wanted.

He’d likely pass out from dehydration in less than twenty tops anyway.

“Okay, but same rules as before except no cumming inside Toru! I mean it! It's too much of a mess to clean up after, it’ll be dripping all night especially all that you came last time…”

The thought of your gooey tender cunt weeping his nut for hours has Gojo’s balls tightening in want of making it a reality—but he knew if all went to plan you’d be begging for it! 

First—he needed you to take a more active role this time. He saw you settled back onto the pillows and that simply wouldn’t do. 

“Um Bunny, can you be on top? I-I’m dying to see what your cute tiddies look like jiggling all crazy like in my face.”

You cover your chest, frowning in offense at his more debauched ecchi preferences but you agreed nonetheless. 

Relenting as it’d likely have him cumming sooner and then you could finally get ready to meet the girls—all in your new g-wagon, although you’d definitely have to make up a lie as to how you scammed it out of Gojo.

Gojo takes your place on the pillows, amused as now it’s his turn to beckon you forward. Steeling yourself, you embarked on your climb to mount him. Tall and lean with wisps of hair sticking to his face Gojo looked more like he belonged in a painting, unnerving you that a face only an artist could sculpt admired your body with his lustful gaze. 

He was too sexy for his own nerdy ass good like this and you failed not to whimper when his strong hands settled at your waist.

Lube in your hand you smirk, gaining some confidence back when you hear Gojo hiss as the cool gel once again spreads down his fiendish girth that pulses restlessly at your touch. The sensation is all the more agonizing without the latex barrier hindering him as your, your silky smooth palm glided over his bare cock before tugging back the sensitive foreskin covering his crown head. 

Licking your lips you almost want to bend down and taste the pre marbling like a pearlescent jewel on his pretty exposed cockhead.

He’d probably cry like a baby if you did, you mused with a grin. 

Good God girl snap out of it! 

You chastise yourself—no, you had to focus and end this quickly before you lost your mind. The idea of fucking Gojo beyond what he could buy for you started to get more appealing and you couldn’t allow that.

Readying yourself to mount him this time you realize your pussy is quivering in anticipation of the stretch—it was uncomfortable last time so—why was your body reacting this way?

Your own pussy betraying you as she seemed to yearn for the opportunity to gobble him up, taking him in with less resistance in spite of you. Flexing around the thick intrusion inside your core you shiver in feeling the curve of every vein on his girthy cock as you lowered yourself onto him.

The way your pussy flexed as a jolt of electricity ran through you scared you—a new sensation bubbling up inside, threatening to make you lose yourself in the feeling.  Must be survival instincts you rationed—your cunt scared for its life never having encountered such an acute danger like Gojo’s dick before.

The burn was pleasurable this time, sucking in sharp breaths at every slight movement of him moving inside your core. Yet Gojo is in even more bliss—from the serpentine motion of your hips cascading over his own to how your your puffy pussy lips looked so wonderfully parted, stretched open around his cock—FUCK!

How was he going to complete his plan if his brain just started turning to mush everytime your dangerously succulent cunt grinded against him.

“O–ooo shiiiiiit!”

“Y-You okay, Bunny?”

Although Gojo himself looked like he was in agony his face was reddening from how good your raw gummy walls were surging around his length.

“Hhnng, fine Toru—y’er j-just big.” 

Gravity was your natural enemy in this scenario and you took him a bit past halfway this time.

Wanting to distract you, his large hands grope your tits but you knock him away—your stomach fluttering. 

“What's wrong, this time?”

“...s’n-nothing, it’s—just put your hands on my hips, it helps me so my legs don't get tired.”

You lied.

Well your legs were quivering but more pressingly your heart started to race and you didn't know if it was because a cock like this could actually relocate your uterus to your lungs or if you’d actually started catching something similar to romantic feelings for Gojo Satoru. 

Either one was unacceptable in your book.

“Hurry up and cum, Toru!” 

However Gojo is about to say something, your phone rings.

“I-Its Utahime…”

“Don’t answer Bunny! Focus or you’re never going to cum!”

“I can multitask, Toru! Besides, on the small chance I do I know it's definitely going to take longer than the two minutes you lasted before.” 

Hushing Gojo’s protests and eyes flaring at him to be silent, you answer the call. 

“Bunny!”

“Hime!”

You greeted each other with your usual peppiness—like Gojo wasn’t 6 and a half inches deep with 2 and half more to go—give or take—inside you.

“What’s up? Oh erm, what am I doing—”

A sly and haughty smile plays on his lips and you scowl at him.

“—I’m still at Gojo’s and no—I’m not doing much at all right now! Haha—yeah. I can definitely talk, of course!”

Gojo frowns as his eyes narrow and to placate him you start half heartedly rotating your hips.

You still looked sexy as hell though. Even with less effort expended it was still a workout as shown by the sheen of perspiration glowing off your body. That delectable sight combined with the light swaying of your tiddies was more than enough for him to cum if he just focused on himself.

But he was determined not to this time, not until you had.

“See Toru? They were helping Shoko’s parents!”

You stick out your tongue and he makes a face back at you.

“Oh what?—s’nothing—Ha! Well ok! He said you were too busy bumping pussies to go to the mall with me! Psh—typical am I rite? Huh—put you on speaker? LOL O-OKAY.”

Snitch! 

Gojo mouths to you offended you’d rat him out like this as Utahime’s voice shrills through the phone.

“Satoru you loser! You have to talk about our pussies cause you could never have one of your own in a million years!”

Snorting with laughter Gojo is more than amused. 

If only they knew.

You pale signaling at him to ‘STFU’ or he could finish himself off.

“Aww, is that so Utahime? I’m so hurt.” 

The mischief in Gojo’s voice is obvious—he’s clearly mocking you.

Annoyed with him getting the upper hand and feeling sassy, you pile on—

“Exactly Hime! I mean he might get some—but a total otaku like him wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if he even ever got in—EEP!”

A heavy handed smack comes down on your ass—hard. 

The force ripples its way into your cunt causing you to feverishly tighten as your tongue pushes a low moan out between your lips.

“Oh ho ho—what's this? You actually like getting spanked huh, Bunny? You dirty, dirty girl…” 

Gojo is whispering again before his hand once more swats at that same cheek.

The sting causes saliva to pool in the corners of your mouth. 

If looks could kill Gojo would have died a horrible death—that is if you could focus enough to even glare at him. You’re absolutely mortified—too consumed by the spanks that fiercely rained down on your reddening bottom, your pussy getting shamelessly wetter with every hit.

“AH–FAHHH—”

“Bunny! What’s happened?!”

You hear Shoko’s concerned voice this time.

“N-N-Nothing, G-Gojo’s being mean to me cause I told on him! H-He pinched me so hard Shoko!”

“Liar!”

Gojo mouths again and his demeanor turns absolutely devilish. 

Oh? So that's how you wanted to continue to play? 

You were such a brat sometimes but then again so was he and his competitive nature soared at the challenge.

“Oh did I? Like this, Bunny?”

Gojo’s  palms cup your tits roughly before he pinches them, twisting your nipples causing the slobber that collected to dribble down your chin and onto your chest.

“Shiiii—T-Toru! S-STOP YOU A-AHHH–SSHOLE!!”

The grip his thumb and forefingers have on your sensitive buds intensifies and you can barely keep the phone in your grasp as you hold it out arm extended to keep your cries from being heard. 

With only one hand free there’s no way for you to worm nor pry his hands from your tits as you are still struggling not to sink lower and choke on your own tongue from the electrifying sensations assaulting your cunt.

This couldn’t be what it was like could it? This overwhelming feeling?

You didn’t want to admit it but as tear-inducing as the sensations were—they felt real fucking good. 

Your hips began involuntary rocking as your core now craved how Gojo’s cock scraped against your walls like it was trying to carve itself even deeper inside you if you’d let your hips drop just a little bit lower. 

“Toru! Stop picking on our Bunny! Don’t make us come over there and kick your ass!”

The sweat that now runs down Gojo’s brow threatens to blur his vision but he’s locked in and focused. The phone situation being so fucking raunchy combined with the way your pussy is creaming on him (despite you trying your hardest not to feel good) has him stressed. 

Swallowing he had to try hard to keep up the act as well as please you without cumming—it would be a feat if he accomplished it to say the very least.

God, this was all so shamefully vulgar. 

Did you do this on purpose answering the phone? 

He didn’t even know this was a kink of his—or yours apparently.

But your “problem” was now clear to Gojo:

It’s not that you couldn’t cum, it’s just that you were scared to cum. 

Any real stimulation triggered your fight or flight. 

You were perfectly capable, you just needed a bit of forcefulness—however the effect of it terrified you and you bolted from it every time you had sex with someone—until now. 

Heh, there would be no more running from the nut for his little bunny rabbit.

Gojo wonders how far into his ecchi depravity he can take you.

“Your Bunny, huh?”

Gojo's eyes squinted as if he could stare down Shoko and Utahime through the phone.

You were his. 

He was the one who was going to make you cum and frankly he didn’t give a fuck anymore if Shoko or Utahime heard it—in fact he wanted them too.

Planting his feet into the bed, Gojo’s form shifts as he swiftly grips your waist simultaneously bringing you down while driving his pelvis up—pummeling his entire length into your guts. The prickly patch of groomed hair at his base tickles your poor abused lil’ clit which had been forcibly nestled into them—the result of being smashed against his pubic bone. 

“FUHCCCK—MUTHERFUHH—SHHHH–HIIIIIT!!!” 

Vision momentarily blacked out and burning with tears mixed with your running mascara, your pussy still reeling from the sheer magnitude of Gojos long girthly length now all the way sheathed and practically tearing through your womb. Your eyes are firmly lodged in the back of your head, the electrifying vibrations cause you to drop the phone entirely. Your world is spinning from experiencing your first small orgasm that only increased intensity as your efforts to escape Gojo are in vain. 

Your cervix is screaming at the probing intrusion of his bulbous tip ramming so far up into you but Gojo has you anchored to him unable to flee from his onslaught of thrusts.

If you could string together a coherent thought you would have wondered if in fact your stomach had been relocated next to your lungs as you felt so full you couldn’t breathe. 

Your pussy violently spasms around his girth, creamy fluids seeping down onto his base from your cunt sloshing around him.  Gojo grips your cheeks spreading you wider increasing the squelching noises echoing from your cunt.

Shit though, Gojo thinks your perfect pussy might actually break his dick off from how fervently you were clenching him. 

Tongue fully lolled out of your mouth, you’re grasping onto Gojo’s shoulders for stability as your saliva drips down his pectorals.

“BUNNY!! Are you still there?? What’s that noise?”

Shoko and Utahime’s calls for you go unanswered. Gojo on the other hand is grinning, albeit through gritted teeth, pleased at how his long trunk-like cock is rendering you nonverbal. 

“Hehe, you definitely came a bit that time didn’t ya—ya nasty lil’ Bunny, don’t lie.” 

“N-N-Nooo T-Toru–s’like I-I c-can’t breathe—”

“Heh, a’course you can baby Bun—that's what it feels like when you cum, even I know that.”

SMACK!

Another firm smack to your ass has your cunt quivering wildly.

You feel like the virgin in this situation now—and honestly—are you not? 

Did those other dicks really count? 

It felt like you were having sex for the first time as this was a totally different experience even from the earlier round with Gojo.

“Don’t worry though, now that I know what kinda shit you’re into—I’mma take care of that pervy lil’ princess pussy sooo good, Bunny.”

Oh god—That couldn’t be true could it? 

Spanking? Nipple twisting? Having your insides pushed up to your throat? 

You didn’t actually like this kinda freaky shit did you?

Yet your body’s reactions remain true even if your mind doesn't want to accept the cause of the fire that is burning within you. Your pussy is in raptures at the feeling of being molded into the exact shape of Gojo’s cock—veins and all.

“HELLLOOOOO BUNNY!!!!”

Absolutely pleased with himself Gojo retrieves the phone.

“Awe p-poor thing, just stubbed her toe runnin’ from me. My—SHIII–room is—FUHHH—k-kinda a m-mess—S-See? I almost tripped just now too. Isn’t that right Bunny?”

Gojo brings the phone closer and you bat it away wishing he would just hang up and spare you the humiliation. Although humiliation seemed to be your new kink as mirroring his earlier actions as you’re pathetically moaning into his skin. Gojo’s masculine scent, mingled with the salty aroma of perspiration, floods your senses, making you feel even more lightheaded, increasing the sloshing of his cock buried deep in your cunt.

The crude noises that rang from your bodies squelching and slapping against each other renders Gojo unable to keep up the charade either. Making up a quick excuse—he has to go get ice for your toe—he quickly hangs up on Shoko and Utahime whose puzzled protests of concern he couldn’t give a single fuck about anymore. 

God fucking you while on the phone with them was so fucking hot, he’d have to get you to do it again—maybe with Suguru next time, he’d probably even be into it.

“Hey B-Bunny—y-you think Shoko and Hime were naked too?”

You groan.

This fucking hentai otaku perv—you already told him that they were helping Shoko’s parents! 

You want to glare, scream, chastise, get up—but you can’t—you’re at the mercy of him ruthlessly drilling up into your cunt and can only heave out tired mewls in reply.

“Fuuuck–imma cum again soon! Do you feel the way your naughty lil’ cunt is squeezing like she wants to wring me dry, wan’t me to give it all to your pussy Bunny?”

“N-Not i-inside m’pussy, T-Toru!” 

A devious smirk appears. 

Heh, yeah he promised not inside your pussy.

Without warning Gojo rips his cock out from your sopping core and manhandles you onto your back. Thinking he will simply cum outside somewhere you're finally able to breathe again and you exhale—only to feel his monstrous length being shoved down your throat.

Your eyes shoot open. 

Greeted with the image of Gojo's heavy balls in your face, his ball hairs tickle your nose as you gag around his girth straining your throat open wide. You think if he didn’t reach your lungs through your guts he certainly would now that he’s eight and a half inches down your esophagus.

“You said i couldn’t cum in your pussy Bunny, so let’s use that pretty lil’ mouth pussy instead—sweet fuck, ya know she’s almost tighter than your actual cunt.”

Your hands fly to the outside of his thighs pawing over the sweat glossed skin as you drag your nails down them, leaving welts in an effort to get him to ease up. The potent musk of your shared lust that had dripped down his balls was now rubbing on your face assaulting your senses. 

It was fucking nasty, so gross and yet your own pussy betrayed you—burning with an ache to be filled again at the smells that stimulated your own primal hedonistic urges.

“Awe, don’t be like that. I know you like it rough, yeah? I haven’t forgotten about you either baby.”

Gojo of course at this point isn’t talking to you but your cunt.

With one hand squeezing your already constricted airway, Gojo’s other snaked its way over your body and reeling it back before delivering a mean open palmed slap to your clit. 

The sound of your soaked cunt echoed through his room and he almost came from that alone as your fluids trickled out of you faster, further soiling his expensive sheets.

“This pussy likes being spanked more than those cherry cheeks of yours huh, Bunny? I know my filthy hentai pussy does.”

You’re obviously unable to answer but the way you’re gurgling moans around his cock lets him know this is exactly what you like. Thrusting two thick fingers into your quivering core his burly appendages bullied themselves in as far as they could go. 

“You know—G-God, FUCK you’re tight—Bunny, you know I read in an h-manga how girls can squirt from a lack of air and a little bit of prodding, s’ppose—S-SHIII—t’be something in here that sends em absolutely wild.”

Fingers searching deeper it's not until Gojo pulls back to add a third that he scrapes past a firm spongy spot that has your legs buckling.

Astonished by the amazingly sexy reactions of your body—Gojo’s eyes are blown out wide over how much your clit swells, your hole twitches and your juices spurt out of you as your tears run over your cheeks to wet his balls further. Gojo doesn’t even need to thrust as your throat tightens around him like crazy with him jamming his fingers into that particular spot over and over.

Lost in your own ecstasy you’re proven wrong as contrary to your belief you thought his otaku sex-ed would be to his detriment to his skills. However it's exactly because of all of the lecherous and depraved shit he collected and consumed did he know exactly what to do to you now that got you all messed up. Eyes lodged into your skull, squirting and practically blacking out with his dick stuffed down your throat on his long dexterous fingers abusing your cunt.

“SHIIIIIIT—”

With a keen grunt Gojo cums, pumping loads of viscous fluid down your throat forcing you to gorge on his thick cum. 

“F-Fuck Bunny are you a throat goat? M-Milked me dry...”

He’s still driving his pliable fingers in and out of you, his arms are shaking from his own orgasm but he doesn’t care. Nothing on earth could stop him from replicating the beautiful sight of your pretty lil’pussy spurting out juices that run all the way down his forearm.

“…heh, looks like I can milk you too, Bunny.”

Gojo finally dislodges his dick out of your throat but still runs a hand through your pussy folds to rub soothing circles on your clit. You whimper through your coughs as you spit up some of his cum, still gagging after what were mere minutes but seemed like hours of choking on his beefy cock.

Vision spotty, tremors run through your body—both ends so thoroughly fucked out—that it doesn’t register that Gojo is once again lifting your body bringing you towards the edge of the bed.

If you thought Gojo was going to give you aftercare from having used your body like one of his anime fleshlights, you’d be correct—but not before one last round. 

Lifting your hips off his luxe bed Gojo positions your wobbly legs on his shoulders. His eyes are blown out and crazed with his own twisted perversion. Weakened and spent himself as cock twitched from overstimulation but he’s never been a quitter—determined to make you cum again and again before one of you finally passes out.

Your toes wiggle and you keen as his tongue ravenously dips between your toes. Trailing his tongue past the arch of your foot to bite your heel.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Bunny—the best pussy in the whole world, how could you ever think she was broken? You were just waiting for me to use her huh?”

“S-shut up–Toru, j-jeez…”

Your windpipes had been fucked raw and you’re croaking which to your dismay only seems to turn Gojo on more and he’s tapping his tender engorged cockehead on your clit. Your brows pinch together as you bite back moans from his frenulum catching and chafing so wonderfully over your clitoral hood.

“Puhleaseeee, Honey Bunny! Let me fuck you a bit more now that we know you are as ecchi coded as I am, m’kay my pervy princess?”

The very thought shames you and you think your heart might seize from embarrassment if it doesn’t give out from pleasure first and your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest chest from all the pet names Gojo is bestowing upon you. 

“Toru…”

You try to reason with him through your defeated huffs as you press your legs shut together.

“...y-you made me cum from your fingers n’ your cock.. Y-You won. Pleaseee—I-I don’t even think I can cum any more.” 

Not convinced Gojo pushes your legs back.

“Oh, is that right? Let’s ask her then!”

Gojo delivers another smack onto your slippery pussy as if on the command of her new owner your obedient cunt immediately leaks a bit more creamy slick onto his palm.

“See, baby? She says you can though and that she’s tired of you running from it Bunny—”

Still hugging your legs together in his grasp, Gojo lowers himself to rub his cheek against your pussy like it was his favorite pillow. 

“Don’t fret my pervy lil’ pussy I won't let Bunny deprive you any longer from what you really need.”

You groan yet Gojo is more gentle this time as he gingerly rolls you onto your belly and lifts your hips to slide his giant Agumon pillow underneath.

Urgh, did it have to be this one!?

There's no time for complaints though once Gojo spreads your cheeks wide. A glob of spit hits your crack as his thumb prods against your shy puckering rear hole while he humps his cock between the fat of your thighs through your soggy swollen folds. 

“Shiiit imma fuck this tight lil’ bunny hole next time baby, m’kay?”

The threat causes you to shudder yet all your back talk and sass is gone from his illicit preparations as he elicits heady mewls from your hoarse throat. Your cunt flutters eagerly to have him fill you again as his fingers imprint themselves into your bottom.

The anticipation is so intense as bracing for his size ripping through you you nearly fail to notice Gojo is now humming to himself—humming—THE DIGIMON CHAMPIONS THEME SONG!?

OH HE HAD YOU ALL THE WAY FUC—

—And suddenly you’re screaming again, eyes glued to the back of your skull as his hips jerk forward, drilling his dick past your walls to pound directly into your cervix with the tempo of a  madman.

OH FUCK! …s’good!

You finally surrender letting your cunt control your brain as you throw ass back to meet his frenzied thrusts. Like a drug addict from the first real taste your pussy is already addicted to the feeling of his cock destroying you.

“S’toru–S’toru–S’toru–FUHHHHCK!”

His name fell from your lips like a mantra, the only word your brain—now thoroughly fucked smoothed—could remember.

The sight of you chasing your own pleasure as your ass slammed back onto his pelvis, your skin rippling as it bounced and splashed frothy fluids onto his abs sent him further into perverse degeneracy. 

“F-Fuck Bunny—baby, this pussy too good—We can’t tell Suguru for a while, kay? He’ll want to fuck you too and this pussy is just f’me. Suguru gets all the pussy s’tell me you’ll keep yours f’er me. Thought you were broken but you just needed my cock this whole time—”

Burying your face in the sheets bashfully at the mention of Suguru, your cunt pulls more taut around Gojo’s cock.

“—FUHH, g-go out with me yeah, Bunny? Love you s’much—SHIIIIT—buy you whatever you want—t-take you where you want—this dick s’yours Bun Bun—all yours!”

Plunging into deeper if it were even possible Gojo’s blunted nails drug into the fat of your ass and hips, it wouldn’t scar but it would certainly add to the inevitable bruising. 

“I’ll never even look at a non 2D woman again as long as I have you as my lil’ onahole—shit I’ll never even buy one of those again unless it's in the shape of your pussy—F-FUCK, w-wait–y-you think we could get one made in the shape of your pussy–my girlfriend’s perfect pussy?!”

It’s too much—too overwhelming and your mind is slowly but surely being corrupted by Gojo. Otherwise the image of him whining while fucking a onahole casted from your cunt as he watches you finger yourself would have never in a million years popped into your mind. 

Determined to see you unhinged in every respect, Gojo didn’t want to deny you pleasure but if he had to be a little mean to you so you could finally be honest with him then so be it. 

Slowly pulling out, your expression is near frantic as you look back at him. Your mouth gaping and babbling nonsensically for him not for him to stop—you were so close.

Gojo simpers, relishing in your cute cockdrunk face scrunched with confusion from him pulling out so suddenly. 

“W-Words baby, c’mon I just spilled my heart out here!”

Your pussy weeps longingly for Gojo’s cock as your body shakes with a yearning begging to be filled again. 

God help you, you want him. 

You want him and his sinfully curved demon dick badly, it’s all you could think about—Not even remembering what life was like before he so perversely rearranged your guts.  However, not only did he know how to hit all your spots, he knew you—and despite him completely disregarding all of the rules you had initially set, he was the first guy who actually cared about how you felt during sex, even if he was a perverted otaku.

There was simply no use in denying it any longer. 

You caved.

Tears streaming down your face as you hiccupped your admission of affections for him, red-faced and flustered.

“S’toru, I-I’ll be your girlfriend—need you n’need your cock s’much—”

Pressing the side of your face against the mattress you bring a shaky hand through your legs, fingers slipping over your slick as you part your pussy lips—your vacant core exposed and fluttering, begging for him just as hard.

“—m’also you’re onahole T-Toru, I promise i’ll only fuck you, j-just please keep fucking me, i wanna cum on your cock, want your cum in me Toru baby!”

You might die from the shame of it all once you sober up from being utterly cockdrunk and stupefied but all you could think about right now was Gojo’s hard dick laying heavy pipe back into your cunt.

Something snaps in Gojo.

Head over heels for you now, Gojo knew from that moment on he’d never let you go. 

Real or 2D—no could compare to you in Gojo’s eyes. 

Toru finally found something he loved more than digimon—your perfect lil’pussy.

And he was going to show her how much he loved her right now.

Taking what was so graciously presented to him this time around, you’re short circuiting once he’s finally inside you again your most base needs being satiated turning you into a cockfiendish whore crying for him to fuck you harder as you grip his sheets like you could rip them apart. 

His strokes become more merciless, unrelenting on your pussy and Gojo leans his weight onto your back, legs bent crouching on top of you, his hips becoming manic they thrashed forward in short heavy thrusts to hammer you into the mattress.

Gojo himself is beyond gone. 

Disregarding all promises of mentioning otaku shit while he was wrecking your cunt.  

“Fuck bunny this feels better then what I thought Agnewomon’s pussy would be like— you'd look so sexy in that cosplay. Gonna have you dress up for me and show you off at cons. I’ll buy you whatever you want, anything, the whole fucking world yeah? Just fuck—wear those those vibrating panties while you cosplay too, you’d like that?”

You tightened groaning at his debauchery, something that was not missed at all by Gojo who by this point had fucked his own self dumb in your angelic cunt. White strands of his hair stuck to both of your faces as he tiled your head back so he could see how desperately those little hearts danced in your dilated pupils before they were reduced to nothing more than mere splotches whiting out your vision.

“Fuck u really are a slut huh bunny? Tightening at the thought of all those otaku perverts looking at you in that skimpy outfit while I control the buzzing on that lil clit. But they can’t have you—m’the only otaku pervert that knows how to make you cum!”

Delirious with melodic honeyed cries spilling from you, you just wanted him to stop talking—pointing out every single time your body responded to his ecchi tastes becoming your tastes and now just yearning for a taste of him. 

Reaching back you’re pulling him down to smash your lips together. Messy, but you could care as Gojo tried to swallow your tongue fucking his own into your mouth with a force that matched his cock. If fucking you was heaven then kissing you was nirvana—he’d give you the whole world if he could keep fucking you like this forever.

Gojo needs you to cum again soon as the feral need breed your tummy until it swells with his seed has him losing the little sanity he even had to begin with. A virgin until today he’d saved up so much waiting for your tight cunt this whole time. 

Moving his lips away from yours only for air, your chest heaves harmonies cries from his hand weaving under your bodies. Jittery fingers swiped frantically over your clit, hurling you towards your euphoric climax as his lips descend back upon yours.

“Cum Bunny—I got ya baby.”

Deliberately plowing himself harder against your cervix, your body seizes up releasing tension into pure white energy that you swore was pumping through your every vein as an extension of your pussy as his heavy load spurts to paint your walls and sear your insides as his thrusts continue to swill his seed inside you, pushing it further into your womb—-thank fuck for birth control.

However that was the last thing you remember before you go limp, temporarily blacked out as you swear you’ve transcended to a celestial plane of existence. One where all slutted out souls went to escape from the unearthly pleasure they’ve been tortured by. You don’t know how long you’ve been out but you're squirming as you come back to consciousness. Realizing your now back on your back as your hips involuntarily rocking against something thick and wet. 

When you finally manage to open your eyes you're greeted by Gojo tongue slurping at your clit and lapping up the cum oozing out of your battered hole like it was a refreshingly creamy bowl of kakigori. His hands embedded themselves into your thighs pinning them to the bed nibbling on your clit and having your already overstimulated core climaxing on his tongue once more.

Strings of your sticky nectar connect his tongue to your cunt as he looks up at you. Having the audacity to grin lovingly at you as if he didn’t look like a downright starved and deranged man with a sheen of shared fluids dribbling down his chin. He’s pussy drunk once again this time buzzed off the pungent yet sweet taste of his cum marinating in your creamy tenderized cunt.  

Gojo is cheesin’ at you like he’s found his favorite spot in the world—and he had as far as he was concerned.

“You said it was too messy, remember Bunny? The least I can do to make it up to you is scoop every drop out of your runny lil’ cunt with my tongue! What kind of boyfriend would I be to have all this cum soaking my Bunny’s slutty little thong and spilling down her thighs while out to dinner—so I decided to have mine a little early.”

FUCKING HELL—DINNER! What time was it?! 

Disordented, your head is fuzzy and you could feel the soreness settling in your muscles. You didn’t think you’d be able to get out of this bed in the next 24 hours, let alone make it to dinner—if you hadn’t already missed it! 

“Nnnn, n-not like I can go anymore Toru, s’all your f-fault!”

Your bruised lips poke out into pout. Gojo chuckles at you how cute you look and he rises up from between your thick thighs to boop you on the nose as he gazes adoringly at you.

“I know princess m’sorry—I already texted Shoko saying you couldn’t, don’t worry~~”

But your eyes widened as you were now fully worried. 

Worried as to what the fuck Gojo actually texted them! 

“T-Toru—”

“—I just told them you weren’t feeling well, was that okay?”

Quickly assuaging your fears—you can relax a bit for now (although you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do later) as Gojo pulls you to him again and softly kisses your neck, hands returning to your ass to rub soothing circles on your chaffed skin. 

Relaxing again floods sleep into your eyes. A welcome godsend honestly, so you can process everything that just happened, especially Gojo aggressively fucking a love confession out of you. 

“And m’sorry if I got carried away Bun… but you were so good for me, so fucking perfect! Just relax and I’ll take care of you! I’ll handle everything—for you and your nasty lil’ cunt. I love you both and I’ll keep both my pretty girls happy forever! I promise!”

Gazing at you with cartoonishly sparkling eyes, you have to look away from Gojo lest your ears altogether burn up in embarrassment from his shameless and yet a hundred percent earnest vocalization of affections that somehow still got your heart racing.

“—oh and my parents will be here tomorrow—we can tell them right? They will be so excited! They've been telling me since I was little I shouldn’t let you get away! Ooo! Ooo! Maybe now that we're dating they’ll let us use their sex dungeon! We need to think of a safe word though Bunny—”

Scarcely comprehending anything he is saying to you, your mind like your pussy had been fully liquified. Both ruthlessly corrupted by Gojo’s long otaku cock and pervy ass fantasies which is no surprise seeing as his family even owns a—

HOL’ THE ENTIRE FUCKUP—A SEX DUNGEON!?

Like a shot of caffeine directly into your veins your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you blink at him dumbfounded, mouth hanging open.  

“Doesn’t that sound fun, Bunny!? My parents are so cool! When I turned 18 my dad even gave me some of his rare and one-of-a-king hentai figures for my collection to get me started and then—”

Tuning him out you’re gagged at the unexpected revelations—and his parents always seemed like such charming n’ decent God fearing people too. Well known to be ruthless in the business world, but upstanding global philanthropists nonetheless.

Well the apple sure as hell didn’t fall too far from the sordid sex fiend tree, that was for damn sure!

Clearly you had no idea what you were getting yourself into or had unleashed by agreeing to be Gojo’s girlfriend. I mean, could no longer deny your growing feelings for him—plus he did just give you multiple back-breaking-terrifyingly-mind-numbing-earth-shattering-orgasms. Not to mention, you would definitely be getting one of every Hermes bag ever made if you wanted one—but at what cost?

Your Dignity? 

Self-respect? 

The right to call yourself a functional and contributing non-degenerate member of society?

Who knows really…

Although perhaps dating a Gojo, the next heir at that, you’d be too rich and highly regarded for people to even care (we’ll except for your friends giving y’all hell but you could eventually make peace with that).

You internally groan as the gentle touches on your bottom morph into lustful gropes and you know your brand new boyfriend would not be granting rest for your totally demolished lil’ pussy anytime soon unless you could distract him a bit.

“—Toru, Toru baby listen, please.”

Interrupting him, you muster the energy to put on the sweetest face you can manage in your exhausted state. 

And of course, Gojo, as always and yet unknowingly, tests the limits of your tolerance.

“Yes, my whittle Bunny, my kinky baby girl—hentai goddess divine?”

Gojo nuzzles your nose in an eskimo kiss as he showers you with ‘loving compliments’. 

Scrunching your face, you grit your teeth through your already weak smile to stop yourself from losing it at him referring to you as ‘hentai goddess divine’—y’all would definitely be having a talk about that as well as appropriate in-public pet names later though.

“Babyyyyy—I’m so sticky and sore, why don’t you be a good boyfriend and get stuff ready for us to take a bath, hm? Maybe find me something else to wear too, hm?”

You did need a bath and you calculated even with his energetic disposition it should take him at least 15-20 minutes to delegate the tasks and get everything together considering how huge his mansion was.

“Oh! Of course, of course! Just wait here! I’ll be right back, my ecchi angel.”

Brow-twitching you sit up to wave at him with another strained smile as he scrambles to put on pants and heads out of his room.

You sigh tiredly and make yourself comfy on his cloud like pillows. 

Thinking he’s finally left and you can savor some much needed time to make peace with what you got yourself into by agreeing to be the girlfriend of an otaku nerd like Gojo Satoru—

—when his head suddenly peaks back in the room with a sheepish look on his face.

“Heh, you know Bunny, was thinking—you really didn’t think I could code crack your cute lil’ cunt now did ya?”

Your eyes are closed but your fists are balling angrily gripping onto the pillows surrounding you.

“Don’t worry Bunny, yours is the only pussy my dick is digidestined for!”

With that, Gojo narrowly avoids the Agumon pillow plushie that is swiftly hurled at his head as he dashes away from the door, his merry yet hysterical laughter echoing through the halls.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⏭ a/n: this fic was wayyyy too long but i've been kinda mean to y'all gojo glazers lately rejoicing in your sorrows cause you are now miserable like the rest of us lmfao, so consider this y'alls bone :P tbh im kinda surprised this is the first full gojo fic i've written lol, it was fun tho cause otaku!gojo is a freak for pussy would drive you insane in all the right and wrong ways. i still have invisible man gojo and ceo/professor gojo planned tho (plus that frat boy satosugu request).

eta: serieslist

reblogs and comments are my life's blood ty ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ

[lokissweater]

miss pretty

{single dad!katsuki bakugo x kindergarten teacher f!reader}

summary: katsuki bakugo has never liked mess and always made sure his son and his life reflected just that. with years worth of a sparkling clean and organized home, toys put away and not once scattered about, and a barking knack over any calls of disorder in his life— meeting you, his sons sweet and sugary kindergarten teacher who was the definition of pure and who was for some reason turning his fiery heart into complete goo— was altering his boring strict cycles of no messes around… and for the better.

warnings: cursing, FLUFFF GALORE MY GAWD??, no smut but a lil steamy something, slight angst, afab!reader, katsuki thinks you are an ANGEL, sunshine x grumpy trope, mentions of abandonment, WHOLESOME AFFF, use of y/n, all characters are aged up.

word count: 11.4k

authors note: THIS MAKES ME WANT TO BE A MOTHERRRRR omg this one is sickeningly sweet and i’ve gotten a few requests to do sunshine x grumpy with sir katsuki and i WAS ALLL OVERRR ITTT i hope i fulfilled!!! <333 THANK YOU THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR ALL OF YOU BEING SOOO SWEETT TO MEEE I LOVE YOUUUU MWAAAHHH :] <33333

katsuki bakugo hated messes.

“oi!” he grunted, his son’s little head turning to look at him as he munched on his gummy fruit snacks from the backseat. “you better not leave that wrapper in here. take it outside with you when i drop you off.”

“kaaayyy!” his son dragged out happily, completely unphased by his dads snappy personality as he contemplated on which color fruit gummy to eat next.

“and wash your hands too. ask your teacher.”

“mhm!” he chirped.

“and don’t be a brat. pay attention.”

“yup yup!”

and for the most part, his life reflected that almost entirely— raising his son to always clean up after himself and not make bombastic huge messes around the house, begrudgingly understanding that he’s a small growing human, that a little spill of apple juice or two is basically guaranteed… but he just hated mess, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t raise his son right to be a clean and organized man even at five years old— katsuki keeping everything in his life practically spotless.

that was of course, until he met you.

katsuki shoved through the other parents in line as he went up to the front desk in the main office with a grip on his sons little hand, not giving a damn about the glares and huffs of bewilderment he got as there was no way in hell he was gonna wait like an idiot with the rest of them.

the lady at the front desk raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“can i help—”

“where the fuck is room twenty four.”

her eyes bulged open as the rest of the parents in line softly gasped and murmured.

“e—excuse me?—”

he rolled his eyes.

“room twenty four.” he pushed. “where is it?”

“sir— if you need me to help you i’d like you to wait in line until—”

“hah?! absolutely not.” he spat. “if i wait in that fucking line my son’s gonna be late why can’t you just tell me—”

“uh sir if you could—”

katsuki’s son giggled as he continued to spout profanities at the poor front desk lady.

“—sir please no foul language there are children around—”

“i don’t give a shit! just tell me where room twenty four is what the hell is so hard about that?!—”

“oh! that’s my class!”

katsuki snapped his head over, fiery red eyes shooting towards the voice until they landed on yours.

“is he one of my kids?” you smiled sweetly, eyes coming down to look at his son.

“oh—” he let his shoulders relax just a tad as he watched you fix the strap of his sons backpack on his shoulder. “i mean— if your class is twenty four—“

“it is!” you beamed, nudging your head. “i’ll show you where!”

“hiii miiiissss!” his son greeted, happy and silly as he followed you down the hall.

“hi honey!” you gushed, just as excited as he was as you patted over his blonde scruffy hair. “what’s your name?”

“milo!”

“nice to meet you milo! are you excited for your first day?”

“yeaaahh!” he cheered, smile bright as he grabbed your hand.

katsuki’s eyes widened.

“milo!” he snapped lowly. “what’d i tell ya? you can’t grab her hand like that you have to ask—”

“oh it’s alright!” you dismissed, smiling. “i don’t mind it at all! the other kids do it too.”

milo snickered and stuck his little tongue out at his dad, and katsuki rolled his eyes.

“is he yours?” you asked kindly, tilting your head.

“who else would he be…” he grumbled.

“i guess you’re right!” you giggled. “he looks just like you.”

katsuki’s eyes flickered to yours before dropping back down, a permanent furrow in his brows as you all rounded the corner.

“here we are—”

“ooo! ooo!” milo hopped up and down. “miss you have race cars?! dad can i please go?!”

he looked over, a mountain of toys scattered about in the classrooms play area, little kids already making a damn mess and the school day hadn’t even officially started yet.

“the hell you asking me for? ask your tea—”

“miss miss can i please go play with the race cars?!—”

“of course my love! go! go have fun.” you smiled, gently ushering him on before milo zoomed over to the play area and crouched down with the rest of the kids.

“oi!” katsuki barked. “put them away when you’re done!”

he huffed under his breath as he watched his son give him a thumbs up and fucking dump the entire bucket of race cars down on the ‘abc’ play rug, taking one in each hand and dragging them across floor.

“he’s so cuteee.” you grinned. “i’m glad he’s not afraid being it’s his first day.”

“oh fuck no.” he mumbled. “milo doesn’t care. the little runt doesn’t have a filter and does whatever the hell he wants without askin’ sometimes.”

he leaned against the doorsill as he watched milo converse with another kid and share a car, satisfaction in his chest that his son was sharing and being nice.

“but i guess he gets that from me.” he finished off.

you nodded. “but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

he pursed his lips.

“in my experience, not really.”

you hummed.

“i think it’s definitely a good thing… i’d rather be assertive of things and not be afraid of what the consequences will be.”

katsuki looked at you, properly this time.

“what’s a kindergarten teacher afraid of?”

you shrugged, a slow playful grin spreading across your face.

“parents.”

he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and you quickly had to look away, a pink buzz to your cheeks at the way his big built arms flexed.

inappropriate inappropriate inappropriate—

“i don’t know how you do it..” he spoke lowly.

“do what?”

“take care of little shits all day.”

you laughed loudly, reeling over a bit as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“i don’t take care of them! i teach them.” you quipped cutely. “they’re small, but this is when their brains drink up the most knowledge… and i love to see the progress from the beginning of the year compared to the end! i love it all really.”

pure.

katsuki curtly nodded, your sweet positive ambiance throwing him completely off, as he doesn’t think he’s ever met or surrounded himself around someone who’s directly emmitted the feeling of sunshine and rainbows and candy as much as you did.

and his cheeks flared up for some reason.

“oh!” you looked to the time on your little wrist watch and walked inside your classroom. “it’s almost time to start! i have to wrangle them all in their seats heh!”

katsuki swallowed and nodded.

“milo!”

he turned and upon seeing his dad wave him over, milo dropped his toys and bounded to him.

“don’t give her a hard time alright?” he spoke sternly, nudging his head over at you for emphasis. “listen. listen and learn and be the best one in there.”

“kaaayyy!”

“and you let me know if any of the other kids mess with you or you deal with it yourself. you already know how—”

“beat the crap out of them!” he cheered loudly and katsuki’s hand flew to clasp over his sons mouth before his frantic eyes looked at you.

the last thing he needed was someone to call up fucking child protective services on him.

“he’s joking! he’s joking… fuck.”

you giggled hard and clutched your stomach, your pretty smile sending katsuki for a loop.

“no you’re absolutely right!” you waved your hands in front of your face, reassuring. “treat others the way you want to be treated, so if someone’s being mean to you, bite back milo, okay? and also let me know first though!”

katsuki gave you a wobbly tiny smile amidst his branded serious face, looking at his son then and ruffling up his hair.

“okay, go.” milo ran off. “and don’t let me pick you up with dirt all over your clothes ya hear me?!”

“byeee daaaddd!”

you could tell that behind his harsh exterior— the slight purse of his lips, stiff frame and bouncing leg gave away that he was only worried about his kid and his first day of school, a sight you’ve seen time and time again since you started working as a kindergarten teacher, and one that never failed to warm your heart.

“don’t worry!” you sweetly smiled, and katsuki switched his gaze over to yours. “i’ll watch him especially… okay? to ease the nerves.”

he softly snorted, attempting to play it off but internally relieved as he pushed himself off the doorsill and nodded, thankful that the teacher milo got was as kind as you.

“um…” he mumbled. “katsuki.”

you tilted your head. “katsuki?”

“it’s my name idiot.”

“oh!” you giggled, a blush rising in your cheeks again as you tried to simmer it down. “nice to meet you katsuki! i’ll see you after school then with milo?”

he stiffly nodded, the way his name sounded so sugary off your tongue something he’d never heard before in his life or was used to at all.

“…ya gonna tell me yours or what?”

“sorry!” you sputtered, laughing nervously. “sorry it just— flew! you know—”

you stuck your hand out and offered it to him.

“y/n!”

katsuki untangled his arms and firmly shook it, grip strong and one that nearly made you stumble forward as you caught yourself and smiled.

“i’ll see you katsuki!”

out of all of the kids you’ve taught, milo was by far the cutest one.

the little man was like your personal assistant— a little bee buzzing around as he followed you everywhere in the classroom and helped you clean up after the rest of the kids that didn’t, ‘yelling’ at some of them to and cutely scolding them whenever he’d catch them leave some things behind, and was always on watch for you like a security guard with his little balled up fists on his hips, surveilling the classroom for any misbehaving kids or messes that you’d missed throughout the day.

all traits you no doubt knew he got from katsuki, even if you had just met him. it was pleasantly obvious.

“thanks for helping me out today, milo!” you gushed, pushing another students chair in as they all sat down and chattered for lunch. “you made my job a lot easier!”

“really?!” he squealed, big glimmering eyes beaming up at you before he happily chowed down on some apple slices.

and you noticed then milo’s lunch was insane, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut up and molded neatly into the shape of panda bears, his watermelon and apple slices shaped like stars with carrots and celery lined up with a little wedge of lemon if he wished, tiny rice balls on the side for a little snack you figured in case what he had didn’t fill him up— all so considerate and careful…

“wow!” you exclaimed, kneeling down next to him. “your lunch looks so yummy my love! did your mommy make this?”

“nuh uh!” he shook his head, cheeks filled with watermelon. “my dad did!”

you faltered.

“katsuki made this?”

“who’s katsuki miss?” he asked curiously, sipping on his little juice box after swallowing the fruit in his mouth.

you giggled. “nothing! nothing. enjoy your lunch okay?”

you went to stand, but milo’s hand shot out and caught your wrist.

“can you— can you eat lunch with me?” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with some carrot pieces in his hands. “please.. i always eat with my dad but he’s not here…”

your eyes softened and you quickly nodded.

“of course! let me just go grab my lunch and ill bring it over! sounds good?”

“yaaaayyyy!” he cheered happily, arms up as you scooched a tiny chair over from a nearby table and sat with him, laughing at his cute expression.

you knew you shouldn’t use a little kid to pry… but you were guiltily curious as to know if katsuki was married or not for reasons that made you ridiculously flustered and red in the face over.

and you wanted to be respectful in case he was… since the ogling you did at his muscles this morning through his black ribbed tank was the most embarrassing moment of your career and one you hadn’t seen coming at all, it catching you off guard and feeling horrible if katsuki indeed had a wife.

but he didn’t have a ring on his finger…

“milo?” you spoke up softly.

he smiled big. “yes miss!”

“does your mommy make you lunch as well or just your dad?”

he shook his head. “just my dad! i don’t have a mom.”

your shoulders deflated.

he didn’t have a mom… at all?

you slowly reached over then and patted his blonde hair, smiling warmly as his cheeks went pink. “that’s alright! i’m sure your dad makes you lunches like this every time huh?”

“yeah!” he gasped excitedly. “yesterday he made pizzas and cut them into dinosaurs! it was so cool! and then!— and then this morning for breakfast i had waffles that looked like dynamite blasts!”

“oh my goodness!” you giggled, your heart absolutely thumping over the fact that katsuki was so dedicated to his son like that. “man, i wish my lunches were as cute as yours!”

his little eyes snapped to yours.

“i’ll tell him!”

your brows furrowed confusedly. “wha—”

“to make you lunch! i’ll tell my dad to make you lunch!”

your eyes widened and you frantically shook your head, cheeks blazing as you laughed. “oh no my love! that’s totally okay don’t worry about me silly—”

“i’ll tell him i’ll tell him i’ll tell him!—”

“milo it’s okay! i’m a big girl.” you grinned. “i’m supposed to make my own lunches.”

milo grumbled and plopped a carrot in his mouth, begrudgingly chewing as he sat there in thought.

“…will you at least let me share some of mine?”

you pouted at his generosity, wondering how a kid could be so sweet as you nodded and held your hand up.

“of course sweetie! whatever you wa—”

milo plopped all of his peanut butter sandwiches in your palm and grinned, earning a gasp from you.

“milo this is too much i can’t—”

“eat it! eat it! eait it!—”

by the end of the day, you managed to get milo to take back his sandwiches in exchange for one singular watermelon star piece, him still doing his regular duties of being your little assistant and helping you clean up after everyone before the final bell rang signaling the end of class, you carefully making sure each kiddo got their designated backpack (as there was often a mix up) and art pieces they made for their parents to take home— a permission slip for the end of the year field trip tucked away inside their bags.

and the minute you stepped outside with the rest of the kids, you were surprised to see that katsuki was one of the first parents there as he stood directly across from your classroom with crossed arms, an angry usual scowl on his face that made you laugh to yourself as you led your kids to sit down on a bench in a single file line until their parents physically came to get them or their vehicles pulled up.

“milo!” you tapped his shoulder gently. “your daddy’s over there!”

“DAAADDD!!”

milo jumped up and ran across the grass, his tiny arms out as katsuki smiled softly and crouched down to pick his son up and settle him on his lower abdomen, you wringing your fingers behind your back and walking up to them.

“were you a brat?” he grunted.

“nope!”

“did any kids mess with you?”

“nope!”

“did you leave a mess?”

“nope!”

you giggled, and katsuki’s eyes snapped in your direction.

“how was he?”

“he did so good!” you gushed, patting milo’s back as he grinned. “was my little helper and everything! didn’t leave a single mess behind and helped me clean up after everyone else… he even made sure everyone was paying attention and not misbehaving.”

“yeah! yeah! see dad?” milo poked his dads cheek. “i didn’t lie!”

“never said you lied you little runt.” he scowled. “…but good job.”

“thanks!”

katsuki set him down after milo started kicking his legs and saying something about the swings, him instantly running towards the playground and to the slide.

“did he actually do all of that?” he spoke up.

“oh yes!” you quickly nodded. “i’ve never had a kid do that before so it was really nice of him to!”

you detached your fingers from around your back and fiddled with them.

“you teach him well katsuki.”

he scoffed and turned his head, cheeks pink as he tried to regain his composure.

“damn right i do.”

you giggled then, the memory of milo telling you he didn’t have a mother suddenly popping into your mind as you watched him happily slide down the blue slide head first.

“hey i don’t mean to um..” you timidly began. “i don’t mean to pry but—”

katsuki raised a brow at you and you snapped your mouth shut.

“nothing! nothing nevermind—”

“spit it out.”

“no it’s alright! sorry i—”

he glared and you cowered, smiling bashfully as you bit your bottom lip.

“milo… milo mentioned that he didn’t have a mommy? i was just— wondering if that was true…”

“tch—” he shook his head. “that’s what you were afraid of askin’ me?”

“i told you i’m scared of parents…” you slumped cutely, and he chuckled.

“it’s just me and him.” he answered. “his mom’s never been a part of our lives.”

your heart sunk a little, eyes sad as your gaze shifted to milo playing and racing around with another kid.

“don’t do that.”

you jumped and looked at katsuki.

“do— do what—”

“look all sad and shit.”

he hesitantly reached over and planted an index finger to the crease between your brows, the feeling rough as he tried to gently drag it down and smooth over the lines.

“it’s fine.” he grumbled, letting his arm fall to his side. “it doesn’t bother him. at least i don’t think it does.”

“no!” you spoke quickly, a crazed blush on your cheeks. “it doesn’t! and milo speaks so highly of you… especially the lunches you make him.”

his brows furrowed. “his lunch?”

“yeah!” you nodded excitedly. “you prepare it so so well! how do you get his sandwiches to look like little bears? and his fruit?! every time i try to cut mine into stars they always break in half…”

he huffed out a laugh, finding your little whine funny as he reached over and ruffled up your hair, you smiling cheekily in response.

“do you use molds?” you asked politely. “to shape out the bear?”

“fuck no.” he scoffed. “i do it myself.”

your eyes flew open.

“what?! so that’s really just you? and the dinosaurs too? the pizza dinosaurs? and the waffles? the ones that looked like dynamite blasts—”

“jesus christ how much did that kid tell you?”

your face grew hot as you smacked a hand over your mouth.

“sorry!” you giggled. “i just was thinking— that his lunch was really cute and thoughtful…” you took your hand away from your face. “i’m really glad that you do little things like that for milo to make him happy.”

katsuki stared at you, your swarm of compliments and sweetness and sunshine and butterflies almost suffocating as you looked at him with those pretty doe eyes, his throat oddly closing up the longer he stared right back and allowed you to pull him into your world of wonder and abc blocks and puzzles.

but it wasn’t suffocating in a bad way, not at all.

and… maybe he did want you to pull him in.

“dad dad dad!”

milo ran over, sweaty and red faced as he reached the two of you.

“there’s a dead lizard in the slide!”

“a dead lizard?” you laughed, surprised as you reached for his little water bottle from his backpack on the ground and uncapped the lid, handing it over and ushering him to drink.

katsuki didn’t know why the domestic sight of you doing that made him melt a bit.

a bit.

“yeah miss! it was big and gross.” he breathed out after gulping some of his icy cold water. “but i buried him!”

his dads red eyes snapped down to his and narrowed.

“don’t tell me you touched that thing milo.”

“i did!” he giggled.

“oh my fucking god—” katsuki snatched his hand and started pulling him to the car as milo giggled and stuck his tongue out.

“it’s a prank! some other girl in my class did… but i helped with the dirt!”

you chuckled softly as you watched katsuki stop and roll his eyes, coming back over to you with a hyper milo.

“say bye to your teacher ya little runt. and you’re still taking a shower when you get home!”

“but i don’t wanna take a showeerrr!” milo whined, letting go of his dads hand and running to you, you crouching and extending your arms big with a pretty smile.

“bye my love!” you hugged him tight as he giggled. “i’ll see you tomorrow okay? and give your daddy a break. no more digging up dirt and playing with dead lizards.”

“kaayyyy!”

you both let go and he stepped back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before bouncing back to his dad.

katsuki choked on his spit.

“oi!” he barked. “you can’t just kiss her cheek milo the hell is going on with you?!—”

“it’s okay don’t worry!” you smiled kindly. “he’s just being sweet is all! i don’t mind.”

“you sure?” he pushed, milo snickering. “i—”

you waved him off and wrung your fingers behind your back, leaning forward.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning kats!”

and he froze, nodding hard as he quickly took milo’s hand and backpack before walking to the car, his heart completely aflame in his chest and cheeks red as he led his babbling son further into the parking lot and inside the car, buckling him up in his car seat before hopping in himself and starting the engine, unbelieving that he had barely just met you and he was already thinking and acting like a fucking dumbass.

“and then we learned the days of the week! oh!— and we learned numbers! i can count to fifteen dad!”

“that’s good milo.” he responded, pulling out of the schools parking lot and craning his neck to see if he could catch a final glimpse of you and settling once he did, you so pretty and conversing so nicely with another kid until he was out of the lot.

“did you eat all of your lunch? y/n tells me ya shared with her.”

“i did! i did share with her.” he grinned. “she liked my lunch!”

“good.” katsuki gave him a thumbs up through the rear view mirror. “that’s good that you always share. especially with her.”

“yup yup! she’s preeettyyy.”

he rolled his eyes, but a small smile grew at the corner of his lips as he nodded curtly.

“that she is.”

katsuki continued to drop off his son personally at your classroom every morning before school.

even when it had been a couple of months into the year, at this point many students already used to their route to and out of class and their parents just dropping them off and leaving— them not even allowed on campus as security rounded every corner and told any parents who wished to go in that they weren’t supposed to, as per policy.

but not katsuki.

katsuki didn’t give a fuck as he stormed through the main office and ignored the calls of the front desk lady, her already used to the rude asshole who came through the building every morning as he strode by and down the hall to class twenty four… wanting to see you— his son’s pretty kindergarten teacher that was sweet and joyful and someone who was everything he wasn’t, his mind curious and filled with your giggles and smiles throughout the time that he’d gotten to know you and chat with you in the mornings and the afternoons, loving the way you were with milo and treated him like he was literally your own— always watching over him and making sure he had had enough to eat and drink and that his hands were washed when he wasn’t around.

and even katsuki himself— you bringing him candy bags from their classroom parties or donuts that were passed to faculty in the mornings and saving yours for him, treats he always took and ate with no questions asked even though he wasn’t a fan of sugary shit and junk food, always making the exception for you.

he had never experienced honest help like that… he’d never experienced someone caring enough about him and his son like the way you did so perfectly every single day…

and katsuki feared that he was a little obsessed.

“oh! miss y/n!”

“yes honey?” you responded kindly, opening a juice pouch for another student and handing it to them carefully during lunch.

milo dug into his lunch pail and pulled out a small container, sticking his hand up and offering it to you.

your brows furrowed, taking it from him.

“what’s this milo?”

“it’s from my dad!”

you stopped, heart dropping to your ass as you recounted his words.

from katsuki?

“your— your dad?”

“mhm!”

you shakily popped the lid of the container open, eyes widening and filling with hearts once you saw a mix of star shaped strawberries and watermelon and papayas, drizzled over with sparkling strings of honey and singular little blueberries scattered about.

“for me?” you asked softly, crouching down next to milo. “my love— are you sure this isn’t for you? i think your dad cut these up for you—”

“nope! for you!” he gave you a big toothy smile before stuffing his mouth with crackers. “he told me not to eat it and to give it to you.”

he swallowed and reached up, you tilting down your head so he could pat it just like you always did for him.

“i hope you like it miss! they look like the ones you told me looked cute!”

“i— i love them milo.. thank you!”

you picked up a papaya piece and ate it, entirely dazed and love struck as your tastebuds savored over the sweet velvety thick honey, literally blinking back tears at how thoughtful and kind katsuki was.

he didn’t have to do this at all… yet he took the time anyways out of his morning to do this for you.

and your heart nearly fucking gave out.

after school once you got your rowdy kids to sit neatly on the bench and wait for their parents, you extended a hand for milo and he hopped off the bench and took it, you both walking up to a waiting katsuki as he stood there with a soft smile on his face.

“hi kats!”

“hey.” he picked his son up and settled him over his abdomen, milo’s arms clinging around his neck and chin propped up on his dads shoulder as he was exhausted from a days worth of playing and learning.

“i wanted to um—” you peered up at him. “i um—”

his brows furrowed, and just as he was about to bark about you stumbling over your words, he stopped.

your bottom lip was trembling.

you hurriedly wiped your eyes.

“i wanted to thank you—” hic! “f—for the star shaped fruit this morning—”

“why are you crying dumbass?” he mumbled, reaching over and wiping some tears with his rough fingers.

“because it was so nice!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking as you let him wipe your cheeks. “and— and you put honey over it too! you didn’t have to do any of that for me!”

“tch—”

he flicked your forehead softly, not enough to hurt you but enough to get you to snap out of your hiccups as you sniffled.

“it’s just fruit y/n—”

“but it’s not.” you wiped your eyes again. “not to me anyways…”

katsuki slowly lowered his arm, gaze tracing over your pretty face and perfect hair and the way you cried over something so stupid, his brain unable to process the fact that an act as simple as cutting fruit up for you could make you this happy, and it made him want to see what you saw for once— how you saw the world for exactly what it was and appreciated it regardless of how big or small things were, not snippy or angry or spiteful over everyone and thinking everything was out to get him and his son.

“crybaby…” he grumbled. “i’m glad you liked it though.”

“i did kats.. a lot. thank you.” you wiped the last of your tears and smiled. “i’m sorry i cried.”

what a pretty sweet girl…

he shook his head and hoisted milo up, him completely knocked out with drool coming out of his mouth as katsuki felt it run down his shoulder, barely even noticing that though as his entire focus was trained purely on you.

was it okay if he… asked you out? would it be weird? would you tell him to fuck off?

katsuki internally rolled his eyes at his stupid fucking high school boy thoughts, though it didn’t alleviate the gnawing feeling that if you did tell him to fuck off… that he’d be angrily mortified at his fail and probably lose the right to talk to you since it’d be too awkward to.

but you were just so fucking sweet. all of the time.

“listen uh—” he cleared his throat, face growing hot. “i was wondering if ya wanted to eat dinner with me… sometime.”

you stared, eyes big and shocked and katsuki took it defensively and entirely the wrong way.

“forget it.” he snapped. “forget it i didn’t say shit—”

“no! no no—” you quickly shook your head. “no it’s okay i would!”

he stopped.

“you would?”

“of course!” you expressed sweetly, cheeks hurting from how big you were smiling as you tried to simmer down your giddy squeals. “i’d love to have dinner with you…”

his tense shoulders slowly relaxed, an eventual small smile growing on his face.

“a—alright uh…” he sighed. “i’d prefer to take ya somewhere nice but i don’t really have anyone to watch milo—”

you shook your head again, brows pinched. “oh no kats— we don’t have to go anywhere at all! we can order something in at your place and eat with milo? or— or my place?”

“my place.” he replied. “and i’ll cook.”

he cooks?!

“okay!” you giggled, your hand reaching up and patting over milo’s sleepy head gently. “sounds good!”

katsuki and you agreed on the details of the date after and bid each other bashful goodbyes, swooning as you watched him walk away into the parking lot with a sleeping milo in his arms and feeling like none of this was fucking real, for you couldn’t believe someone as handsome and cool as katsuki would ever be interested in someone like you.

and funnily enough, he felt the complete opposite, stressed and extra snappy as he cleaned the house from top to bottom (though it barely needed it), unnecessarily fixed the positioning of the furniture and made milo put away his toys, him not even whining or protesting like he usually did solely because the little man knew you were coming— pretty miss y/n with the pretty smile and the nicest lady he had ever met, and one he secretly hoped would be his new mommy every time he saw you and his dad converse before and after school, thinking you would fit the role perfectly.

especially after his dad had given you those fruits as a present!

“milo!” katsuki called. “come ‘ere!”

his son ran into the kitchen, toy race car in hand. “what!”

“be good today, ya hear me?” he pushed, face stern as he flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder and sautéed vegetables in his frying pan. “please milo. don’t try to be funny and do somethin’ to scare y/n off.”

milo gave him a look.

“scare miss y/n off? dad you’re gonna scare her off not me!” he giggled. “silly.”

“yeah..” he grunted. “you’re probably right but i’m just sayin’. i’m thinking of the time grandma came over and ya put that fake rat in her purse to try and be funny.”

“ohhh yeeeeah!” he doubled over in little fits of laughter, holding his stomach as he did. “i did do that!”

“see what i mean?” katsuki grumbled, snatching the kitchen towel from his shoulder and throwing it down on the counter top, stepping back to peek in the oven. “you better not do that with y/n please.”

“i won’t!” he grinned. “not when she’s about to be my new mommy!”

katsuki choked as his spit went down the wrong pipe, bending over and coughing uncontrollably in his elbow before spinning around and looking at his son with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

“the hell you just say?”

“what!” milo tilted his head. “that y/n is gonna be my new mommy?”

his eyes grew even wider as he dropped the pan he was holding on the stove and leaned back, running his hands over his face.

“oh you little runt please don’t say that in front of her, alright?”

he pouted. “why not?”

“you’ll scare her off! worse than when you put that fake rat in grandmas purse!”

“boooo!” milo stuck his tongue out and crossed his little arms over his chest. “whatever.”

“oi!”

“what!”

katsuki’s doorbell chimed and milo booked it to the front door.

“missss preettyyyy!!—”

“milo get your ass back here!—”

katsuki swung the door open and swooped his son in his arms just as he was about to pounce on you in midair, you giggling and covering your mouth as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“i’m sorry—”

“hiii misss y/nnn!” milo greeted happily, dangling off of his dad as katsuki tried to stop him from wiggling out of his grip. “i’m so exciteeeddd!—”

“hi my love!” you gushed warmly, smile wide as you extended your arms and walked forward, taking milo in your arms and setting him on your hip. “how are you? you excited to hang out with meee?”

“yes! yes!” he vigorously nodded. “i wanna show you all my race cars!”

“oh i can’t wait to seeee!” you bounced him on your hip and he giggled, you turning your attention and smiling at katsuki.

“hi kats!”

“the little brat is hogging—”

milo blew a silly raspberry at him before wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face into your neck.

you laughed and ran a soothing hand over the little man’s back, katsuki rolling his eyes before stepping to the side and letting you in, shutting the door behind him and leading you over to the kitchen.

and jesus christ you looked beautiful, him noting that pink was what you mainly wore on the day to day as he eyed your small rosy cardigan, you walking through his home and looking around and oblivious to the way he was staring at you like a fucking creep.

katsuki bit the inside of his cheek as he watched your eyes scan your surroundings, stupidly nervous about what you’d think of his house and furniture and minuscule decorations, and annoyed with himself that he’d even give a shit about something like that, trying to occupy himself and ignore it as he looked in the oven and lifted lids of various pots and pans, checking over tonight’s dinner.

“i’m sorry i’m behind…” he grumbled and waved his hand around. “had to clean the house and shower milo since he decided to play in the fuckin’ mud this morning.”

“oh you don’t have to apologize for that kats!” you looked at him worriedly. “you don’t have to apologize for anything i totally understand…”

you hoisted milo further up your hip and grinned. “i’m just happy to spend time with the both of you.”

katsuki felt smoke puff out of his red ears as he nodded and scratched the back of his neck, turning slightly and lifting the lids from his pots and pans again.

“miss preettyyyy!” milo whined. “when can i show you my race cars?!”

katsuki scowled and you laughed.

“now honey! but how about we move some of your toys to the living room so i can spend time with both you and dad? how does that sound?”

“yayayay!!” milo cheered, bouncing on your hip as you smiled cutely and set him down, him running off down the hall and you quickly following after him.

milo talked you through his entire collection of race cars as you both sat down on the living room rug— telling you the model of each and every one, what they did, how fast they went, they places they’d gone, and which were his favorites as you excitedly talked to him about his cars and shifted conversation between him and katsuki, a task he was surprised you did so efficiently, but then quickly realized that that was literally your fucking job everyday dealing with little brats talking your ears off and you attending all of them at the same time.

and when it came around to dinner time, you helped katsuki set up even through his snapping and huffing that you absolutely shouldn’t, you giving him a silly little face as you assisted anyways and set up milo’s booster seat, picking him up and sitting him down before buckling him up while katsuki placed your dishes on the table—

and gourmet fucking dishes at that.

you were bewildered. absolutely bewildered as you gawked over the lasagna platter he set before you, it delicate and fancy looking as he had even draped sauce on your gray ceramic plate in gourmet intricate designs, knowing that katsuki had mentioned to you he was a chef over the several months you’d gotten to know him, but you didn’t know exactly to which extent that chef occupation stretched to.

“kats…” you murmured. “what do you do for a living.”

“i told you idiot.” he passed over a couple of napkins and you gratefully took them, taking one then and wiping down milo’s mouth as he messily ate his cut up pieces of lasagna. “i’m a cook.”

“yeah but what kind? where?”

“why?” he gruffed. “does it look like shit?”

“no!” you giggled. “absolutely not the opposite actually! this is probably the most beautiful lasagna i’ve ever seen in my life.”

“duh.” he responded, but sent you a small smile as he ate. “i’m an executive chef down at a restaurant in the city.”

your jaw dropped. “the city?! you’re so cool kats! oh my goodness!”

his face flushed.

“my dad says his boss is a piece of—”

“don’t say it!” katsuki snapped at his son, eyes wide as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, not wanting to encourage the little man any further.

“milo i told ya not to cuss until you’re ten—”

“ten?!” you giggled loudly and let your hand fall, sticking your fork in your lasagna and eating. “as long as he cusses with you and not at you… i think it should be fine!”

katsuki stopped.

you get it. or you rile up his bad cussing habit. either or he might as well have found his fucking soulmate.

“miss pretty!” milo called.

“yes my love?”

“do you have a boyfriend?”

katsuki smacked a hand on his forehead and you snickered.

“i don’t!” you grinned. “why milo?”

“because i want you to be my new—”

“milo if ya shut your mouth right now i’ll buy you two new race cars tomorrow.”

his son gasped dramatically and pursed his lips shut, eyes big and excited as he tried to contain himself and do as told.

“his new what?” you tilted your head cutely, katsuki’s heart hammering against his rib cage as he stuffed his mouth with food.

he shrugged. “the fuck should i know?”

“but i wanna know!” you pouted, taking your final bites of your yummy dinner.

he swallowed.

“do you want dessert?”

you gasped. “oh my god yes! i do!”

“then i suggest you shut your mouth too.”

you laughed over the table, quickly nodding as you pursed your lips like milo and pinched your thumb and index finger together, running it across your mouth and twisting your wrist like a pretend lock before dropping your hand in your lap, giddy and excited over dessert.

katsuki playfully rolled his eyes and stood, collecting all of your plates and stacking them on top of each other before taking them over to the sink.

“dad!” milo called as he bounced in his seat, katsuki grunting in response.

“what’d you make for dessert!”

“mochi.”

“yaaaayyyyy!” he cheered happily. “can i eat it with y/n in the living room?”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “the living room?”

“yeah!” milo exclaimed. “so i can keep showing her my race cars!”

he struggled for a moment before eventually nodding. “alright… but don’t make a mess i just cleaned—”

you and milo ended up building a fucking fort once he gave you the all clear, you both saying something about it adding to the ambiance as you used the couch cushions for makeshift walls and milo’s choo choo train sheets for the roof and tent, katsuki before he knew it his entire living room a fucking mess as the three of you sat amongst the scattered about pillows and blankets eating your bits of mochi, milo mainly inside the little tent you made for him as you and katsuki were too big to fit inside with him.

his living room was a mess… but he didn’t mind.

katsuki didn’t mind the mess.

your way of living was entirely different from his, as yours had everything to do with mess due to your full time job with kids— paint all over your hands and face, marker stains on your clothes and sticky glue residue and pieces of cut up construction paper somehow in your hair, all things katsuki despised for years and made sure his house never reflected any of that.

but in that moment, with his living room in complete disarray and the positioning of his couches utterly fucked up? the dishes still in the sink and the table still set?

katsuki didn’t fucking care.

because he had never seen his son so happy. he had never seen him so excited and hyper as you helped him set up and somehow tie fairy lights that katsuki had somewhere up in his attic for holiday seasons around the fort, you looking fucking gorgeous under the dim dark lightning as you read milo one of his favorite children’s books you got from his little shelf in his room— ‘the very hungry caterpillar,’ one of your favorites too as his son followed along with you and giggled whenever you’d make a silly joke only a five year old would find funny.

and katsuki felt warm… that’s all he ever felt when he was around you.

is this what it was like to be a family?

“oh my goodness i almost forgot!” you quickly sat up and handed milo the book, him taking it as you crawled over and reached for your bag. “i brought something for you honey!”

milo gasped and sat up. “really?! what?!”

you pulled out a ceramic cream colored globe with hollowed out stars, a small bulb inside as you scooched on your knees back over to a curious katsuki and milo.

“woah..” his son whispered. “what is it?”

you smiled and reached for the nearest outlet, plugging in the little globe and flicking a switch.

the darkened room illuminated itself then with the soft murmur of a lullaby playing, star shaped shadows slowly shifting around the entire living room as milo gasped and stood, frantically pointing at each moving shadow and gushing while his little mind was trying to process how cool and fascinating this was.

and all katsuki could do was stare at you.

stare at the way you sat back on your ankles and pointed with milo, counting how many stars you could see before it shifted and repeating that for fun, stare at the way both of your eyes glowed with wonder and curiosity, and stare at the way you smiled so gracefully and looked unreal now under the starry lights, his heart on overdrive at how gentle you were and how much you cared about his son.

about him.

and katsuki was sure then he was absolutely sick over you.

you all settled after a while of playing games and eating more mochi, especially milo, the little lullaby knocking him out as he snored next to you in his fort, you and katsuki laying down next to each other as you stared up at the shifting stars.

“i’m sorry i made such a mess in your living room..” you whispered bashfully. “i promise i’ll pick everything up before i leave.”

he shook his head. “don’t worry about it i can pick up. it’s fine.”

you smiled at him warmly before looking back up at the ceiling, feet planted on the blanketed flooring as your mindlessly moved your propped up knees side to side.

“was it hard raising milo on your own kats?” you asked softly, fingers wrung together neatly on your tummy.

“it was at first.” he mumbled. “but i got used to doin’ it on my own.”

you frowned, not particularly happy with the idea that katsuki had to raise a human being on his own without any help or guidance, wishing that he would’ve had someone there to help him every once in a while, or just be there for him.

“you did an exceptional job, okay?” you began. “you should know that... milo is such an honest kid… and he’s so precious too.”

katsuki’s eyes softened, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you in fear of you noticing his stupid flustered face as he opted for keeping his gaze glued to the starry ceiling, your sugary peachy perfume not fucking helping as he decided to sit up instead.

“he is.” he grunted softly. “don’t know how his mom didn’t see that.”

you faltered and sat up with him.

“what do you mean?”

katsuki eyed you before looking down, hands flat behind him propping himself up as he thought.

“ah… milo happened because of some random hookup i had in college.” he mumbled. “didn’t love her or anythin’, i barely knew her but still told her i’d support her and the baby obviously.”

you nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“i was there through her entire pregnancy and when milo was born… but the minute she got discharged from the hospital and took him with her, i woke up at four in the mornin’ with a knock on my door and milo left abandoned on my doorstep.”

you gasped, hand hovering over your mouth.

“are you— are you serious?”

katsuki nodded.

“she wouldn’t answer my calls, my texts, nothing. i went to her house and found out she took the first flight she could to fuck knows where.” he shook his head bitterly. “but i didn’t give a shit about me i’ll raise him i don’t care. it was never about me.

he looked at you. “it was about milo. i didn’t want him to know that his ‘mom’ left him behind like that, and i didn’t want him to think it was his fault or anythin’… shits ridiculous.”

katsuki shifted his gaze back up to the ceiling. “still don’t know how she could ever do something like that.”

the sound of a hiccup make his eyes widen and snap back to you, your eyes filled with fat tears as your bottom lip wobbled, hands coming up to cup over your mouth and nose as you tried to keep it in.

“you’re crying?”

you nodded, squeaky slight sobs slipping past your throat as you strained to keep everything down.

“that’s so cruel.” you cried softly, embarrassingly drowning in your tears in front of him yet again. “you didn’t deserve that at all kats… milo didn’t deserve that you both should’ve had such a good mommy and— and a good support system—”

katsuki pushed himself up and wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, pulling you in and rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly.

“you cry over everything y/n.”

“s—” hic! “—sorry—”

he laid the side of his head on top of yours as you shook, somehow feeling guilty of what he told you just because of how much you were crying.

more than when he gave you those star shaped fruits.

“oi…”

katsuki pulled back and looked at you, reaching up and wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“don’t cry baby…”

baby?!

you funnily sobbed even more and shoved your face in his chest, him chuckling as he wrapped his arms back around you and gently swayed side to side.

“stop it idiot.” he mumbled. “it’s fine. it happened years ago n’ milo and i have always been alright on our own.”

…but he wanted you now.

now that he knew what it was like to be softly cared for by someone precious like you, to feel what it was like to be warm and fuzzy and sunshine and rainbows and candy all of the time… and katsuki wanted you so. bad.

“i know..” you hiccuped. “and i’m really glad but i just wish you had someone.”

you pulled away and quickly wiped your wet cheeks. “m’sorry i cried all over your shirt—”

“don’t give a fuck.”

you breathed out a laugh and dropped your hands in your lap, looking at your fingers as you sniffed.

you were always crying for him.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

he looked to the side with a blush to his cheeks.

“thanks for comin’ today.”

you smiled brightly and nodded.

“of course kats! how could i not?” you looked behind you to a sleeping milo, reaching over and pulling his blanket a little further up his shoulders. “i want you to know that i wanna be there for you and milo…”

he shifted his gaze to you as you turned back around.

“whether— whether you wanna keep seeing me or not—” you gnawed nervously at the inside of your cheek. “which i hope you do! but— but if not that’s totally fine i just want to be there for you both…”

how were you so pure? so thoughtful?

“why the hell wouldn’t i wanna keep seeing you?” he huffed, grumbly and embarrassed as he pursed his lips. “i’d be stupid as fuck not to…”

you blushed, happy shiny eyes looking at him eagerly like he was everything and more, and he wasn’t used to people looking at him like that whatsoever as your gaze flickered down to his lips and back up.

and you were so pretty.

“y/n.”

“mhm?”

he slowly leaned closer.

“would you be mad if i made a move on you—”

“of course not—”

katsuki lunged and planted his rough lips on yours, you tasting like straight sugar and honey as he placed his big hands on the sides of you head and held you like a piece of delicate glass, kissing and sliding your tongues in each others mouths rather quickly and breathy as he moved one hand from your pretty face down to your waist to grip it.

you placed your hands on the blanketed floor and slowly crawled over to him during the makeout, him reaching and wrapping the rest of his built muscly arms around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap as he ran his hands up and down your sides and back, wanting to feel you as much as he possibly could and squeeze you tight as he gulped your little self down, brows furrowed and lips red.

katsuki pulled away and ran his fiery wet mouth across your jaw and to the spot right below your ear on the side of your neck, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as he bit and sucked and still squeezed you, manhandling you in a way and eating you up.

your eyes fluttered open once you heard a slight rustle, your line of sight catching milo shifting a little in his sleep.

“k—kats—” you breathlessly whispered, pushing a little at his shoulders.

he grunted.

“milo—” you pointed. “he’s waking up—”

“the fucks that gotta do with us—”

“kats!”

he groaned and pulled his mouth from you, scowling over to see his son only shifted positions and was now directly facing the both of you, tiny eyes closed as he drooled and was probably dreaming about race cars and his dads shark shaped pb & j sandwiches.

“the little runt is fine—” he shoved his face back in and gnawed at your neck again as you gasped.

“nooo!” you whined and giggled softly. “now i’m scared he’s gonna wake up…”

he huffed and officially pulled away this time, red eyes dilated and half lidded as he looked over your pinky cheeks and shy face, the purple and blue mark he made on your neck making the right side of his lips curve up into a little prideful smirk, you too distracted to notice over the way he clutched and loosened up the hold on your waist repeatedly.

katsuki kept you on his lap and scooched himself down, laying on his back and head on the pillow as he nudged you to lay on him completely over his chest and body, you more than happy to do so as you settled your head on his pecs and got comfortable with his strong arms around you— feeling so safe and looked after.

and you hadn’t expected to sleep over… but you just didn’t wanna leave, and katsuki sure as hell didn’t want you to either as you softly and quietly talked over the small tinkling of the lullaby and milo’s soft breathing, shadowy stars still slowly shifting around you as you easily switched between various topics— ranging from serious to silly as you ran a loving hand over his chest and his on your back, the both of you subconsciously lulling each other to sleep until you were just as passed out on the floor as milo.

since then, katsuki didn’t wanna let you out of his sight.

as if he wasn’t already involved enough with milo’s school activities because of you, this man became a fucking member of the pta and volunteered himself for every single event so as long as you were there, helping you out especially with fundraisers and bake sales as his desserts always sold out quicker than anything else and made bank as he snickered and boasted at the other parents that weren’t selling as much, you giving him a silly glare that never failed to shut him right up as he wanted to be good for you and not upset you.

the front desk lady even went from hating him to loving him, katsuki grumbling and chucking her a bag of leftover fundraiser chocolate chip cookies on her desk as he passed by to drop off milo in the mornings, serving as a ticket way in and to get her to shut up now instead of yelling at him from down the hall.

and he continued to give you yummy star shaped fruits.

except now some days they looked like hearts or little flowers, and he always made his fruit assortments different so you wouldn’t get tired of them and added different dippings like caramel or chocolate hazelnut, you gushing and nearly bawling literally everyday whenever you’d open the container and milo giggling at you during lunch.

you also never went a day without stopping by or staying over at katsuki’s house since your first initial date, your days so much fun and filled with love as you ate lunch or dinner with the two of them, laughing at milo’s sporadic comments or katsuki’s barking and scolding while you either played with milo, helped katsuki clean up the house and him the kitchen or you the kitchen and vice versa, or simply cuddle on the couch with kisses shared amongst you and katsuki— the three of you with milo seated peacefully and comfortable in the middle while you watched a movie or lulled the little man to sleep.

and katsuki had never felt so complete as he started leaving messes behind without even realizing or stressing about it, and he didn’t know when the fuck it was that he turned so soft and sappy— the change a bit strange to those who knew him as he was just a teeny weeny less explosive and angry over small things, and more so when it came to you and his son.

“make sure you keep your little bucket hat on honey, okay? it’s hot today and i don’t want you to tire yourself out milo.”

the end of the year field trip for the kindergarteners this year was a voyage to the local wildlife sanctuary, a gorgeous exhibit that sat right next to the national science museum in your city, its main attraction being the 25 foot koi pond and butterfly wonderland that housed various butterfly species and their little habitats— the kids field trip assignment being to count how many they see throughout the day and pick one koi fish and butterfly to draw on their journals.

katsuki, of course, volunteered as a chaperone.

“single file line please my loves!” you called, hand by your mouth. “and don’t seperate from your friends okay?! everyone stay where i can see—”

“oi!” katsuki barked, snapping and pointing at a rogue kid who decided to break free from the line and run across the grass. “the fuck do you think you’re doing!—”

“kats!” you breathed out a shocked laugh. “you’re gonna get me fired if you talk to the kids like that—”

“shit! sorry— i’m sorry baby hold on—”

katsuki booked it across the grassy lawn and caught up with the running kid on the other side, the rest of your class giggling and cackling as katsuki swooped him up with one arm and dangled him upside down while he kicked and swung tiny punches to his abs, katsuki not even flinching.

“do that again and see what happens brat.” he spat, the little kid not having a single care in the world as he giggled with the rest of the class, all of them deviously planning to piss katsuki off as much as possible since his outbursts were just funny.

“okay okay—” you smiled apologetically at him before taking the dangling boy from his arm and setting him back down, fixing over his clothes and backpack before patting his head and standing upright.

“no more running alright?” you placed your hands on your hips. “don’t we wanna see some cute little fishies and butterflies?!”

“yeeeeaaaahhhh!!” the babies cheered excitedly, each of them immediately returning to their designated spots in two lines as you grabbed your line leaders tiny hands and started the walk down the grassy field to the sanctuary.

“lemme help ya with one line baby—” katsuki went to grab one of your line leaders hands until they burst into a crying fit.

“no! no! i wanna hold miss y/n’s hand!”

katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “what’s so bad about me hah?”

“you’re ugly! miss y/n is pretty!”

the rest of the kids ruptured, laughing as katsuki sent death glares to a literal child, about to spout something nasty until his eyes flickered to your pleading face, his muscles instantly relaxing as he casted his gaze to the ground with a grumble.

you giggled and gave him a sweet kiss to his cheek in gratitude, his face flushing as he eyed your deep blue overalls and pinky shirt and the way your sunglasses sat pretty in your hair on top of your head.

“what honey?” you tilted your head.

“none of your business.”

you snickered and nudged your shoulder with his, looking over at milo from somewhere in the line to make sure he was okay before walking up the front gates of the sanctuary.

the wildlife guide met you once you all were cleared and inside the greenhouse, your kids absolutely restless as they ‘listened’ to whatever the guide had to say and just wanting to break free and run around to look at all of the fishies and butterflies like you had promised, and you not even listening either as you drooled over the way katsuki’s muscles looked under his t-shirt.

“any questions sweetheart?”

“huh?” your eyes snapped to the guide, cheeks pink as you quickly shook your head. “oh! no not at all! thank you ma’am!”

“alrighty then! just please make sure to tell your students—”

suddenly your two perfect lines broke apart as the kids started running around and pointing at fluttering butterflies and screaming, the guide looking like she’d seen a ghost as the usual quiet and serene sanctuary was now the epitome of noise.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry—” you guiltily apologized. “my kids will settle down they’re just excited is all…”

the guide kindly waved you off before walking back to the main office, you turning and expecting to see katsuki standing next to you, but faltering once you saw he was on the other side and pulling one of your kids down that had climbed up the gates of one of the sanctuaries closed off exhibits.

“oh god..” you mumbled, about to make your way over until you spotted milo in a corner alone, staring at one of the koi ponds.

“milo?” you called softly, walking up to him.

your heart sank once he turned and you saw his little tear filled eyes and wobbling lip.

“oh no!” you gasped, crouching down and taking his tiny hands in yours. “what’s wrong my love? are you okay? is it too hot?”

you pushed some of his spiky blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead as he shook his head.

“i can’t draw!” he sniffled. “and the koi fishies keep moving…”

your shoulders relaxed in relief.

“that’s okay!” you took his journal and pencil, wiping his wet cheeks as you smiled sweetly. “as long as we’re patient with the fishies, they’ll swim back and you can draw them again!”

you opened his journal and flipped to a new blank page, the both of you waiting quietly until a big chubby koi fish swam by.

“there!” milo whispered and pointed, and you quickly drew what you could, just making out the shape of the body before it disappeared again.

“and now we wait!” you grinned up at him. “the fishy will come back around and you’ll be able to draw it again.”

“kayyy!!”

“and you can draw milo. i’ve seen your artwork in class, remember? you always get a gold star!”

he giggled. “i do miss pretty!”

you ran a soothing hand over his back before passing his journal back.

“now you try honey—”

“i love you.”

you froze and looked up, katsuki standing there with a sincere and vulnerable look in his eye.

you stood from your crouched position and looked at him wide eyed.

“i’m not— i’m not good at this kinda shit at all and i always say somethin’ dumb but i do.”

“kats—”

“and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it but i tried to make it obvious with my stupid shaped fruits n’ shit… and i always thought you kinda just knew…”

milo was too busy focusing on catching glimpses of the koi fish to draw with his tongue peeking out to even realize what was going on next to him.

“you’re so patient baby. the way you are with me… the way you are with my kid. i need that in my life and i can’t live without it at this point…” he spoke genuinely. “your fuckin’ fault.”

you giggled and covered your face with your hands, face hot to the touch and bashful at everything he was telling you.

“come here.”

you listened and walked forward, dropping your arms as you wrapped them around his abdomen and his around your head, squishing you in his big chest as he propped his chin up.

“do you love me too or what.” he frowned. “cause if not this is shitty and embarrassing—”

“no i do!” you giggled, pulling away and giving him a cheeky smile. “i do kats you know that… i love you. so much.”

he smiled and pecked your lips. “good, miss pretty.”

katsuki had heard the entire conversation you had with his son, your words seeping with such tenderness and care, and he almost passed the fuck out when he thought about how much of a blessing you were, something he’d be a fool not to snatch up and take as he nearly fucking proposed to you in the middle of the sanctuary like an idiot, not knowing at all how a person that pissed people off for a living was loved by a woman who was the definition of pure.

because how the fuck did an angry dunce like him, get lucky with an angel like you?

“oh my god that dumbass kid is climbin’ the fence again— oi!”

katsuki quickly kissed your cheek before flying to the other side of the sanctuary, you doubling over in laughter as you watched him fight and tug and pull, your student not budging at all whatsoever and the rest of the kids laughing at how red katsuki was getting in the face.

“miss pretty!” milo tugged at your overalls, and you looked down to see him holding up his open journal, a cute wobbly sketch of a koi fish on the page as he smiled big. “i drew it! do you like it?!”

“wow milo!” you gushed, crouching down to his level and taking the journal, examining his artwork. “this is beautiful my love! see? i knew you could do it!”

“thank youuu!” he responded sweetly, his little cheeks blushing as he looked at you like he had another thing he wanted to say.

you tilted your head. “do you wanna tell me something else?”

“yeaaahhh.” he dragged. “please love my dad… i know he’s mean but— but he doesn’t mean it!”

your eyes softened as milo looked down at his shoes.

“and love me too… because i want you to be my new mommy…”

you quickly blinked back tears as to not alarm milo, surprisingly successful at preventing them from slipping down your face.

“i do love your dad honey… and you. the both of you i love so so much.”

he beamed. “really?!”

you nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “and i thought i was already your mommy milo!”

the little man gasped and flung his arms around your neck.

“YAAAYYY!” he yelled. “miss pretty is my mommy! i have a mommy now!”

ever since you came into katsuki’s life, his way of living materialized into something completely different.

because now instead of his house being plain and boring and organized from top to bottom without a single thing out of place— it was warm now… happy. and never went a day without smelling like cookies and vanilla as you and katsuki baked with milo any chance you could, set up more pillow forts and tents with starry ceilings, and slept with milo in his room as he snored content in his little bed, you sprawled directly on top of katsuki like he always had you as you both every day intended to leave after putting his son to rest, but ending up falling asleep on the floor each time.

the three of you were a little family.

and katsuki didn’t know why he hated messes so much in the first place.

because mess signified that something had been there, something sunny and tender, something that signified family as you peppered kisses over both your boys’ faces everyday and katsuki drowning you in his rough ones— your man squeezing you so tight all of the time and anywhere, as milo wasn’t just his son now but yours too as you took him to the park or to the aquarium on your days off, the three of you gently living as both of milo’s small hands were occupied now instead of just one.

katsuki’s life looked like it had been generously cherished and lived in for a change.

and katsuki bakugo loved messes.

so as long as they were from you.

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