#i mean probably im slow as shit
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angelsofsmalld3ath · 10 months ago
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UMMM WTF
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tkbrokkoli · 23 days ago
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cant believe that after driving the car, riding the train, booking a hotel room, having a nightmare, visiting the father in law, visiting a hospital, making a friend, and escaping an assassin, the incomprehensible Horrors™ are back at it again and harder to bear than ever 🐻
#fandom related#malevolent#i feel just like arthur that after having some Normal Time and time w friends and family the Horrors are even more horrifying than before#also How is this man driving. w zero eyes and one arm and one leg. i imagine John is like#slow down arthur! hit the gas arthur! while steering. and arthur is shifting the gear. except that john has no experience in driving#so it would be like someone during their first ever driving lesson. creeping along slowly. being way too slow or way too fast for a given#situation. cops would stop them bc arthur isn't even looking at the road. he is bumping into so many other cars or the curb.#parking like shit. does john even know what the road signs mean 😭 and oscar got into the car w him#maybe he was too busy reading that book to notice. or too enchanted by arthu#*Arthur#if arthur had a white cane he would constantly lose it while falling down holes or trip over it running from the horrors#i think it's been mentioned only 3 times that he can't see. to those cops on the lake to daniel and the butcher has mentioned it#honestly king shit running around blind and w only one arm and leg w the voice of an ancient god in his voice. also they are fucking driving#*in his head#why can't you edit tags on mobile!!? or do i have to update tumbler for that#anyway ever since starting malevolent ive been realizing i should be more grateful for my eyesight. my eyesight is already bad and i need to#wear glasses 24/7. also i have a diagnosis that has a kinda probability of making me blind once im old or smth#i mean eyesight decreases for everyone as they get older right. but yeah. and i v likely won't have the voice of an older god in my head to#help me see. so gotta be grateful now#i should go to bed it's almost midnight but i have to listen to the next episode i need to know what's going on and what will happen 😭#still hoping nothing further will happen to oscar and that he and arthur will stay friends. if you're reading this and you know this won't#be the case. nnnnggh :')
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Me, fighting tooth and nail against my irl friends who are sw*fties: yeah well, maybe I want my sad girl music to have a 3 minute guitar solo and distorted audio after the second verse of vaguely gay lyrics have you considered that ?!
#admit it if pete wentz's lyrics were sung by some white woman to plain ass slow piano music with max 3 cords yall would eat that shit up#but heaven forbid it be layered and/or vocally/musically compelling with a decibel count over 65.2#or not sung by a climate criminal trying to sound emotional or weepy but actually sounds constipated 💀#icarus' random screaming#icarus' burning life stories#anti taylor swift#im probably slicing my palm open for a demonic ritual in shark infested waters by doing this but oh well#pete wentz#fall out boy#icarus falls out#not even just fall out boy. I'll put on the tamest led zepplin or rage against song i can find and they look at me like 😶😣😖😨😰😱😵#i put on eat your young they ASK then i try explain the critique of war profiteering/capitalism and theyre like silly ***** readin too deep#LIKE YOU ASKED. I KEPT IT SO SIMPLE. YOUR FELLOW SWIFTIES LOVE THIS SHIT WTF#im scared to try and bring up mitski (esp. working for the knife/best american girl) lest i kill my own friends#like they're not insane conspiracy swifities and i love them dearly but they're fundamentally tiktok youth gen z and im... not :/#and im fine with it we joke and laugh about it and poke fun at each other for it but sometimes i feel so alienated#not on purpose. not by them. but i look at em and they look like test tube babies (not mean).#they look to me like what ginny & georgia looks like to them. too polished too stylised too... Just So#sometimes they look like the same lifeless tiktok copy and pasted and it scares me#im trying to remember that post about how tiktok thirst traps and general posts are so set up and stilted they look sexless#and robotic#anyway#the generational gap between me and my fellow teens/young adults 💀💀💀
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bigpeepee · 3 months ago
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okay so i am once again in a bit of a pickle due to the fact that i never learn from my mistakes :)
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ackermental · 7 months ago
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I share my account on Disney + with my friends, and my friends have given me access to their account on Netflix. For a time our account on Netflix got blocked and guess what? Neither of us went ahead to buy that shit on our own, because pirating exists.
Be happy we're willing to give you any money, especially when your content sucks ass most of the time.
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cliveguy · 5 months ago
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skyrim and its consequences were a massive blow for people who enjoy massive open world games but even the most pretentious of us need to get super drunk sometimes and play their skyrim save with a billion mods
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two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat · 7 months ago
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T-T why must my body react badly if I drink energy drinks or coffee more than once a week
The caffeine makes the day go by so much faster
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exopelagic · 9 months ago
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i will not panic abt my exams
#it will be fine actually#I’m stressed bc they’re in. a month now like a month from today and I’ll be done#but that just means I have a whole month to be making notes I can do a lot in a month#I’m going home on Friday which is stressing me out but it’s just one week I’ll go Friday and leave Saturday/Sunday#and if I can do a handful of lectures while I’m at home that’ll be a useful step no matter what#i can probably focus on like molecular ones which are easier to structure bc I just need to pull out the mechanisms#tomorrow I just gotta read up on two topics really and then I can write the dumb mock exam which I won’t be able to do at home bc its 4 hour#I hate that we have to do that especially bc it’s got shit evil questions but whatever#and I can’t feel bad abt being slow to get back into this bc im an animal with a body and it takes a while to get back into Anything#and I’m worried abt the exam yes bc of how it went last year when I was unprepared but 1) I won’t be THAT degree of unprepared this year#2) it is unlikely that i get as insanely unlucky as I did last year#fucking hell I just. don’t think I’m made for this kinda system I can’t make myself work in it#every single term of my degree so far I’ve been fighting to keep up with everything and had no time to properly prepare for the exams#and then scraped it by working off a baseline level of being good at putting ideas together quickly and strategically working last minute#on whatever will give me the best shot at getting what I need but that’s not possible in these two exams bc I have over 100 lectures to know#I can’t do 100 lectures in a month. it’s just not possible but what I can probably do is summarise some important bits for like half of them#I think I’m bad at the whole sustained effort on a big task over a long period of time#bc this is so huge that there’s no way for me to see progress or move on to anything new bc it’s just. a stack of 100 lectures to deal with#I HOPE I’m better at dealing with project next year bc i think it’ll be more task based#and like I can watch the lectures the first time round bc there’s a set thing to do and an end point#I have genuinely no idea how to approach this in a way that will be useful achievable AND get enough done within the time I have#anyway I can’t stress abt it now bc I have to go to the shop and then home to cook. so#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#luke.txt
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fizzintine · 7 months ago
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megumi's type is short with a fat ass
i know bc im his girlfriend
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shinybulbasaur · 1 year ago
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watching physics video essays is fun bcus they'll be like "okay time to talk about the four big particle accelerators in the us" and I get to go "yay yay my good friends berkeley and bnl and cornell and chicago!! wait what's a fermilab"
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nerdlvr · 3 months ago
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ᡣ𐭩 。ꪆৎ ˚⋅rent-a-girlfriend.com
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maybe you should've deleted that stupid girlfriend rental website you made years ago. and maybe you should've ignored park jisung's very desperate request to pay for a fake girlfriend. but hey, it's easy money, not like you'll fall in love with him or anything... right?
basically, even though the rent-a-girlfriend site isn't actually in service... who would say no to $40 an hour and free dates with park jisung?
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fuckboy!jisung x fem!reader
genre : humor , strangers to lover , fake dating , college au , fluff fluff fluff(jisungs a fuckboy but he's still a dork) , oblivious jisung and y/n , miscommunication trope most likely, crack alternate storyline of cryptic crush
warnings : sex jokes , death jokes , mean insults and comments , jisung a lil freak , should probably read cryptic crush before this one if u haven't (i will be making inside jokes)
notes : im weak for fake dating aus. i'm playing it cool and i'm just gonna let this one flow. i like to focus on the comedic points of my smaus so this one will be no different, but i kinda want like a longing pining type of feel once they start liking each other yk... is it fake dating without secretly crushing on each other? gonna take it slow and see how the plot develops
playlist : kiss me , sixpence none the richer | linger , the cranberries | heaven knows im miserable now , the smiths | valentine , laufey | bad habit , steve lacy | n side , steve lacy | lovers rock , tv girl | glue song , beabadoobee
status : ongoing , updates x2 a week , tuesdays and thursdays
taglist : open !
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yn’s group , ji’s group
intro
1~ IN THIS ECONOMY????
2~ big booty latina
3~ head for a mcflurry
4~ didn't wipe the what.
5~ something is off…
6~ get real
7~ A TWINK????
8~ this shit just pmo
9~ japan's greatest treasure
10~ savannah slow down.
11~ golden pickle
TBD
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extras :
TBD
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carbonfiction · 4 days ago
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which logan(s) would put you in the most heavenly mating press i’m talkin entire body mass crushing your thighs to your tits and either brutal pounding with his teeth in your neck OR passionate (still pounding. it’s all he knows) deep ass thrusts holding ur head with both hands i’m gonna explode
https://x.com/Father4u666/status/1865094902285013461 the size difference…
Oh sweet anon you are KILLING ME HERE- pls continue..
But this link??? Im actually deceased, you do not understand. Size kink going wild rn soooo heres my thoughts on this:
70s dofp!Logan is the best at the mating press. Hands down. I mean we have all seen the scene cap of him and the girls frankly TINY arm over his neck. That is a big, heavy man who FUCKS with everything in him. Size kink screams when he’s near. He’s completely draped over you no matter the position.
Oldman Logan often gives deep heavy pounds that are slow in pace, holding your face/neck tight in his hand. He’s cooing in your ear so much filthy shit, trying to drive you to the edge with every single thing he knows. Fingers like a champ. When he has the stamina on a good, moderately painless day, he is soooo good at fucking rougher. He lovessss being ridden and WILL absolutely thrust up from the bottom fast and hard when you get tired. Hes also big on spanking. Bc That’s daddy frrrr
X1-X2 Logan is somewhere between both.. but arguably most feral, speed is definitely something he utilises, quick pounding is his kinda vibe? He’s certainly got the stamina for it. Def leaves the most marks too- you can guarantee your leaving with hickys and bite marks allll across your neck/tits/thighs.
Worst Logan.. I feel like worstie is cautious at first. He doesn’t want the risk of hurting his partner, but he will give Slow and deep. He will give it quicker when he’s more comfortable if that’s what you need but mostly he knows he’s got time here.. He Can afford to savour every moment with you. Also a biggggg giving oral for his pleasure kinda man. Gets needy for you to simply ride/warm him
Origins is all about praise, about making you feel good at all times. He’s a sweet sweet lover boy. He’s probably the most likely to fuck the gentlest in all honesty. He’s allll about the slow intimate sex, keeping eachother closer than close in bed. Def more on the love maker spectrum than rougher fucking but he is capable if it’s what you need from him orrrr when/if he’s jealous- Also probably the best when it comes to mutual masterbation/clit play. This Logan is boyfriend, this Logan is husband.
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gamblersdoll · 2 months ago
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thinking about ex boyfriend! bakugou who is so fucking smug because he was your first and doesnt ever leave you alone… smut included.
an: this shouldnt have taken all day, but today was pretty shit. 😀
you roll onto your right side, feeling the vibration of your phone buzzing. it unlocks looking at your face identifying, and you groan in annoyance. “hello?”
“mornin’ , sleepin’ slut. bad night with the new guy?” you recognize the voice, bakugou. “just wasn’t doin’ nothin’ for you, huh?” he laughs a little bit, a sigh afterwards.
“do you realize what fucking time it is?” you ask, squinting to look at the white numbers in the corner. “it two fifty three in the goddamn morning.”
“and i bet he’s gone by now, isnt he?” katsuki asks, an expectant huff.
“who?” you ask, almost damn near impersonating a actual owl. “because i dont know who the fuck you’re referring to. ive been at home all day.”
“yer’ new little boy toy. i knew youd whore yourself out to make me jealous.” he says, biting his lip when he heard you starting to argue back and get loud. “yeah? im fuckin wrong?”
“very much so, very slow at that.”
“i mean, we wouldnt be here had you not gotten ‘fed up.’” he reminds, biting his lip and tugging at his hero pants when you scoff. “all we gotta do is get back together and y’know..”
“yes, lets get back together mr.dynamight who liked to get an attitude when things dont go his way or will purposely lie about shit to make me jealous, i love you.” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.
“really?” he asks, a hand groping himself when he waits for your answer.
“no.” you say, pressing the end call button and tossing the phone into the laundry hamper. sleep was good when you didnt have an ex boyfriend calling you in the buttfuck hours of the morning, but he pestered you more. you obviously hear his calls going to voice mail, but its good that the ringer turned off when you threw it.
‘one new voicemail. should i play?’ the fax machine asks, replying with a ‘sure.’ out of pity, was the pussy that good he was obsessed? or was he desperate?
‘you know you want me back, princess.. just call me back and show me how much you miss me.’
yeah fuckin right.
you listen closer, hearing heavy breathing and… slick? was this fucker only booty calling you at fucking three in the morning for this? is that why he called you?
‘not just callin’ ya because im horny or nothin.. but god, do i miss seeing you.’ as soon as you thought the worst. ‘miss seein’ yer pretty face.. or seeing the dumb shit you send me at work.’
you ponder on his words… but had he not been a bit of an asshole, you wouldnt be here. all of this was because he wanted you jealous, and ended up you spitting in his face then leaving.
‘need ta tell ya somethin anyway..’ he mumbles, a groan from his lips. you knew what he was doing, it slightly turned you on. ‘never slept with her.. just lied so you can show me how you can be crazy ‘bout me.. it was stupid.’
yeah, it was. who the fuck lies about that?
‘miss you so damn bad..’ he says, probably pre nut clarity. he moans a little bit, heavy breathing from him stroking his fat cock. ‘cmon baby, talk to me.’
and an idea pops in your head, you finding some really old photo of you and izuku.
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joemama-2 · 11 days ago
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velvet lies
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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. wc: 10.4k tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: eek series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter
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i mean, im not that surprised he’s sexy as hell
that’s actually crazy
imagine hiding your son for five years 😶😶 how can you be ashamed of that
doesn’t he literally have a girlfriend?? himari nakamura??
        ↳ yep for almost two years now
       ↳ wonder how she’s holding up i’d be pissed, unless she knew 
rich people are always shady as fuck
You don’t even know how many comments you’ve read. Staying up practically the entire night, busying yourself with the endless scrolling of people who have not a single clue of how your life actually is. Meddling in your business and acting like the shit they’re spouting on the internet is okay. 
They ranged from positive (sort of) to extremely personal and negative. 
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i bet she just did it for the child support 
i wonder if he’s actually the dad, women like that lie and lie just cuz the dad is rich as fuck
i feel so bad for that boy
Bad? Why would they feel bad for him? You’ve given everything you can and then some to ensure Koji’s safety and innocence. You’ve never put him in harm’s way, difficult situations, hit him, nothing. Of course you’ve raised your voice, but every parent does. Why are these reasons suddenly acting like they know a fucking thing or two? This is insane. 
The only positive ones you see are praising your son for how cute he is, how much he looks like Satoru, and how he’ll probably get everything he wants. That’s not true, you’re not going to spoil your kid and you’re sure as hell not letting Satoru do it either; he’s humble, that’s how you want him to be. Still, you do feel uneasy at strangers on the internet for talking about your baby like this, in reference to a photo none of you knew was taken. 
And you still don’t know who took it. 
That’s what infuriates you the most. Because who in their right mind would do that? Who thinks they’re that fucking entitled to chime in on your personal business—your family. 
When you find them, you swear on everything you’re punching them. 
Your head hangs low, the hood of your sweatshirt pulled tight, shielding your face as you step into the café. You keep your gaze down, avoiding the eyes of the baristas and patrons scattered around. The familiar hum of the espresso machine feels deafening today.
Maybe no one will notice. Maybe no one cares.
But you know better.
That damn image, plastered across every TV screen and newsfeed yesterday, is still burned into your mind. Why do people even care this much? You’re beyond pissed off. Who in their right mind thinks they have the right to invade your personal life like that? To turn your family into fodder for the public?
Maybe no one will say anything. Who even watched the news anyway? 
More people than you think, actually. You keep moving, but Hana has other plans.
“Y/N!” Her voice cuts through the noise like a whip, and before you can react, she grabs your forearm, dragging you into the storage room in the back.
“Hey, what the—” you start to protest, wincing as her grip tightens, but she doesn’t care. She whirls around to face you, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief.
“What the hell is going on?!” she demands, gesturing wildly with her hands. “You were on the news yesterday!”
Your stomach churns at the reminder, and your jaw clenches tightly. You pull your hood down, resigning yourself to the conversation you were hoping to avoid. “I know that already,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest.
“Koji’s father is multi-billionaire Satoru Gojo?!” Her voice rises in pitch, and she looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Is that for real? You’ve been hiding this?!”
You take a deep breath, counting to three in your head. “Yes, Hana. It’s real. Koji’s father is Satoru Gojo. Can we not do this right now?”
But Hana doesn’t back down, her wide eyes searching your face for answers. “Are you kidding me? Of course we’re doing this right now! You’ve been sitting on this—” she throws her hands up, “—while the rest of us thought you were just, like, a regular single mom? What the hell, Y/N?”
“Because it’s none of anyone’s business!” you hiss, your voice rising then lowering, not wanting anyone else to overhear. “Do you think I wanted this to come out? Do you think I wanted his world to invade mine?”
Hana softens slightly, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. “Okay, fair. But you should’ve told me, at least. I mean, I’m your friend.”
“I didn’t tell anyone for a reason and I don’t owe anyone anything,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “And now it’s everywhere. Do you know how terrifying that is? For me? For Koji?”
Hana sighs, leaning back against the wall. “Okay, okay. I get it. This whole thing’s a mess. But what are you going to do now? I mean, the story’s out. People are gonna talk, Y/N. A lot. Especially if it involves a man like him.”
You swallow hard, the weight of her words settling heavily on your shoulders. “I don’t know,” you admit quietly, your voice trembling. “I just want to protect my son.”
Hana nods, her expression softening further. “We’ll figure it out. But you’re gonna need a plan. And.”
“Hana, I—“ you’re really trying not to snap at her, really. But she’s pushing every button you have right now and your patience is running extremely low. Don’t snap, she’s just worried.  “I know what to do, thank you. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t meddle in my business too. We’re friends, yes, but understand right now that I’m going through a lot of shit and don’t need to be told what to do and when to do it. So get off my back.”
Hana blinks, a little caught off guard by your sudden announcement. Her mouth slightly agape, clearly not having expected your outburst. For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, her expression shifting between hurt and something close to understanding. She straightens, her arms falling from where they’d been crossed over her chest. “Y/N, I wasn’t trying to—” she begins, her voice softer now, but you cut her off.
“I know,” you say, your voice quieter but still firm. “I know you’re trying to help, Hana. And I’m grateful, I am. But right now, I need to handle this on my own. I need space. Can you give me that?”
She nods slowly, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay,” she says after a moment. “I get it. I’ll back off. Just—if you need anything, anything at all, I’m here. You know that, right?”
You exhale, some of the tension easing from your shoulders. “Yeah. I know.”
Hana offers you a small, tentative smile before stepping aside, giving you the room you so desperately need. As she moves to leave, she hesitates at the curtains, glancing back at you. “For what it’s worth, Y/N…I think you’re handling this a lot better than you think you are.”
You don’t respond, just nod in acknowledgment, and she disappears back into the front of the café. Alone in the small back room, you lean against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment to gather your thoughts.
Better than I think, huh? You shake your head, rubbing at your temples. It doesn’t feel that way. 
You’d be lying to yourself if you said this probably won’t be that bad; not a big deal. But hell, it was huge. You hate unnecessary attention, especially attention from hundreds, if not thousands of random strangers. You’re recalling the incident from earlier when you dropped Koji off at school. Mr. Ito stopping you once more and confessing his surprise to you. In his words, “I didn’t know Koji had such an…esteemed father.”
You held back a slew of insults, keeping it classy, as always. But as the days go on and the more shit that seems to be happening to you, you’re getting this close to breaking that. It’s the way he, everyone else, and even Hana seems so…shocked. The lingering glances from other parents at drop-off, the whispers in the hallways. It’s the way their surprise feels so…palpable. You get it, in a way. Satoru Gojo is larger than life—powerful, wealthy, and untouchable in a way most people only dream of. But still, the shock in their eyes stings more than it should. Did they think you weren’t of caliber to bag a man like Satoru? Did they think a man like that wouldn’t even dream of having a child with a woman like you? It feels a tad bit insulting. Actually, scratch that—it feels like a slap in the face.
The implications gnaw at you, poking at insecurities you’d rather not acknowledge. This is exactly why you hate social media. You’re already growing too conscious of the comments people are making—caring too much and it was just revealed. And the worst part? You can’t even fully blame them. Satoru’s world is one you’ve never truly belonged to. You’re not the glossy, magazine-cover type, and you don’t have the pedigree or connections his circle would expect. But that doesn’t mean you’re less than, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean Koji is any less precious because of it.
 You sigh, rubbing at your temples. If only these people could see you for who you truly are—if they could see the strength it takes to raise a child on your own, to hold your head high even when the world tries to tear you down. But no, all they see is the scandal and the drama, their curiosity morphing into judgment. Sure, you made mistakes—big and bad ones. But you’re doing all this in order to make up for those mistakes. And sure, Satoru doesn’t 100% forgive you—you’re not sure he ever will—but you don’t think he would agree with these kinds of comments being made. Right? 
You huff. Let them talk, you think bitterly, though the tightness in your chest betrays the confidence you’re trying to muster. Let them all talk, they know nothing. 
The minutes feel like hours. Unsure of how long you’ve exactly been here. Equally nervous about looking at your phone to check.
“Oh my god, look. It’s her.”
“Shhh! She’ll hear you.”
“I wonder if she’ll give us pointers.”
“You’re insane.”
The conversation doesn’t fly over your head. t’s like they want you to hear, voices loud enough to penetrate the usual clatter of the café. You swear, they’re practically aiming their words right at you. Your grip tightens around the rag in your hand, knuckles going white as you scrub the already spotless table. The motion is a little too aggressive, the poor table bearing the brunt of your simmering frustration. Your jaw clenches, brows knitting together as you try—desperately—to keep your temper in check. Jaw clenching and brows knitting together, you’re counting down to ten and back.
One…two…three… you recite in your head, attempting to steady your breath. It’s an old habit—one you learned a while back from you’re therapist, one you’ve relied on in situations like this, but today it feels like it’s barely working. Four…five…six.
You glance up, just for a second, and immediately regret it. The group of girls sits near the window, leaning into each other as they giggle, their eyes darting your way. They’re not even trying to hide it anymore. One of them, a blonde with an annoyingly perfect smile, nudges her friend and whispers something, sending the others into another fit of laughter. Your fingers flex around the rag, itching to throw it across the room. Breathe, you remind yourself. Just breathe. They’re not worth it. But it’s hard to ignore the knot tightening in your chest, the sting of humiliation creeping in despite your best efforts. Because you know exactly what they’re laughing about, what they’re whispering about. It’s not just idle curiosity—it’s judgment, plain and simple. And maybe, just maybe, if this were any other day, you’d let it roll off your back. But today? After everything that’s happened? After seeing your son’s face plastered on screens and hearing people dissect your life like it’s a soap opera? You toss the rag onto the table, standing up straighter as you look their way. They immediately quiet down, eyes widening like they’ve been caught red-handed.
“Can I help you?” you ask, voice calm but carrying just enough edge to make them squirm.
The blonde fidgets, her confidence faltering under your gaze. “Oh, um, no, we were just…”
“Enjoying your coffee?” you finish for her, forcing a tight smile. “Good. Let me know if you need anything else.” Without waiting for a response, you turn on your heel and walk behind the counter, the satisfaction of their stunned silence doing little to ease the weight in your chest. Nine…ten… You exhale slowly, trying to let it go, but the anger simmers just beneath the surface.
It’s going to be a long day.
—-
The walk back home with Koji feels like you never want to use your senses again. It feels like a marathon you never signed up for, every step heavier than the last. The pounding in your head has escalated into a full-blown migraine, the sharp pain clawing at the edges of your skull. You clench your teeth, trying to hold it together, willing the tears pricking at your eyes to stay put. Koji chatters beside you, his small hand in yours, his voice a muffled hum against the overwhelming throb in your head.
 So much has changed within just the span of a week and none of it feels good. You like change, but not like this. Not the kind of change that’s so spontaneous and out of nowhere that it makes you dread the littlest things. The kind of change where you feel like every way you turn, it’s a dead end. Every thought spiraling into another reminder of how much you’ve lost control, or of how much you never had it to begin with. The kind of change that you never fucking asked for in the first place. The kind of change where you feel like a ticking timebomb. A simple walk home feels like an obstacle course. The sound of Koji’s innocent laughter, once a balm to your soul, now feels like a weight pressing down on you, a reminder of how fragile your balance is.
This change doesn’t come with warnings or instructions. It doesn’t let you adjust, and doesn’t give you the chance to prepare. It just dumps its baggage on your doorstep and forces you to deal with it, whether you’re ready or not. And right now, you’re not.
The last thing you want to do is blow up on someone who doesn’t deserve it, especially your son. You glance down at him, his bright eyes scanning the world around him with that endless curiosity only a child can have. His tiny fingers grip yours with a trust that makes your chest ache. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand the storm brewing inside you. And he shouldn’t have to.
“Mommy, are you okay?” Koji’s voice is soft, his head tilted as he looks up at you with concern.
You force a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m fine, sweetheart,” you manage, squeezing his hand gently. “Just tired.” He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer, and resumes his animated recount of the day’s events. You let him talk, his voice a small distraction from the noise in your head. One step at a time, you tell yourself. One breath at a time. For him, if not for yourself.
You wonder to yourself how many more times you can continue repeating that phrase to yourself, like a broken record spinning endlessly in your mind. Shouldn’t you be allowed to do some things on your own? Something that isn’t tied to the constant grind of making sure Koji has everything he needs, of shielding him from a world that feels more hostile every day? Everything you do is for him—every decision, every sacrifice, every moment of biting your tongue when you want to scream. It’s all for him. 
But what about you?
The thought is bitter, curling in your chest like smoke. It feels selfish even to entertain it, but the exhaustion is suffocating. How long has it been since you’ve done something just because you wanted to? Since you’ve allowed yourself the luxury of thinking about what you need, instead of what everyone else expects of you? Is it selfish? Is this not how a good mother thinks?
The doubt gnaws at you, persistent and sharp. 
Not like you’d know the answer to that question. Your mother—a woman you rarely ever want to think about—never gave you the guidance for situations like this. You have no inspiration, nothing. You’re doing everything free-handed. She didn’t leave you with blueprints for moments like these, no voice in your head to tell you what’s right, what’s wrong, or even what’s okay. She was a void, an absence, and that absence shaped you more than you’d like to admit.
And now here you are, trying to be everything for your son that she wasn’t for you. But it feels like you’re fumbling in the dark, building something fragile with trembling hands. There’s no instruction manual for this, no map to follow. You’re doing everything on the first try, improvising as you go. Every decision feels like a gamble. Did you do enough today? Did you do too much? Did you make the right call, or are you setting him up for something you can’t even see coming? The uncertainty is exhausting.
You glance at Koji, his small hand still tucked safely in yours, his voice cutting through the haze of your thoughts. He’s so blissfully unaware of the turmoil raging inside you, and that’s how it should be. He deserves that innocence, that security. But the weight of always being the strong one, the reliable one, is starting to crush you. How much longer can I keep this up? The question whispers in your mind, and you hate it. You hate that you’re even asking it, hate that it makes you feel weak. But the truth is, you’re tired.
And you don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending that you’re not.
You focus on Koji again, his small frame silhouetted against the afternoon light of the day. He trusts you implicitly, and looks at you like you’re the answer to everything. And the weight of that trust makes you want to cry and scream in equal measure. How can I possibly live up to that?
They never said motherhood was easy. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. Maybe this is what being a mother really is—second-guessing everything, carrying the weight of your own past, and still showing up every day, trying your best. 
You don’t know if that’s enough. But it’s all you have.
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It seems like you’re in for a surprise every second of the day.
Satoru, much to your own dismay and confusion, is perched against your apartment door; waiting for you again. Like a magnet, Koji runs into his lower half, hugging his father with all the strength his five-year-old body will allow. 
“Hey, little man. I’m happy to see you.” Satoru smiles wholeheartedly, patting Koji’s back with gentle ease.
“Hi, Papa! I missed you.” His voice is muffled by Satoru’s clothing.
The older man laughs, relishing in the moment for another second, before opening his light azures. His eyes look like they’re darting all around you, as if making sure you’re okay. Standing up, he shuffles his hands in his pockets.
“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you mutter, walking up closer. Arms crossing. 
He nods. “I know, I–I should’ve told you. But this was urgent and I knew you were busy at work.”
A hum is all you offer, unlocking your apartment door and stepping in. The semi-warmth envelops you like a worn blanket. Finally, in the comfort of my own home. Even if it is just for a little bit before you’re off again. 
“Call off his babysitter.”
You look back, watching him close your door and lock it. “What? Why?”
“Because I’m here.”
Koji runs off to his room, presumably to play with his toy collection. Leaving the two adults alone. Biting your lip, attempting to come up with something to say—or what to say first. Luckily, he beats you to it. “I want you two to spend the night at mine, don’t go to work. I’ll pay you whatever you miss out on. I know you saw the leak and I’m working on figuring out who the hell did it. But until then, I’m a little concerned for your guys’ safety, so stay at mine until we figure things out long-term.”
You stare at him, caught off guard by the resolute earnestness in his voice. The Satoru you know isn’t usually this serious, this concerned. It’s disarming—attractive, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. “This is my home, Satoru,” you finally say, your voice quiet but firm. “I can’t just up and leave because of a leak. And I can’t run every time something like this happens. That’s not a long-term solution either.”
“I get that,” he says, stepping closer. “But this isn’t just about you. It’s about Koji. Someone took that photo, and I don’t know who, or how, or what their intentions are. Until I do, I can’t take chances.”
“And I get that, but I can’t just—sleep at your place.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s just…weird.”
“Fuck, Y/N,” he exhales out. “You think something’ll happen? It won’t. I'm doing this for Koji and you because I care. Not because reviving something that’s long-ended is my priority.” 
“It’s not about that,” you snap, your voice rising before you catch yourself. You close your eyes for a second, exhaling sharply, trying to rein in your frustration. “It’s just... complicated, Satoru. You showing up like this, offering to fix things with money, with solutions I didn’t ask for, for problems I never wanted—it’s overwhelming.”
He takes another step closer, his presence filling the small entryway. “You think I don’t understand that?” His voice softens but carries an edge of urgency. “Y/N, I’m not trying to make this harder for you. I know this is all... messy. But I can’t sit around and pretend I’m okay with you and Koji being here while someone out there is bold enough to invade your privacy like that. I’m trying to protect you. You can’t keep pushing me away like this, you said you wanted to make things better.”
“I know, but—”
“Then stop it. Stop arguing, complaining, whatever. You’re not going to keep me out of Koji’s life any longer, or yours. They already posted another damn picture of you today at work.”
What? You blink your eyes, widening them. You don’t even want to see the photo evidence, gulping down the weird lump that forms in your throat. What the fuck is going on with my life right now? You hesitate, biting your lip. His words chip away at your defenses, but the walls you’ve built don’t crumble that easily. “And what happens if we go to your place? What’s next? You swoop in, play hero, and then leave us when this blows over?”
His jaw tightens, the faint hurt flashing in his eyes almost imperceptible. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Isn’t it?” you counter, arms crossing tightly over your chest, a weak attempt to shield yourself from the weight of the conversation. “That’s what you always do, Satoru. You show up when it’s convenient for you, and when it’s not, you disappear.”
The words hang heavy in the air, stinging both of you. For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m not leaving you this time,” he says quietly, lifting his eyes back to yours. “Not until I know you two are safe. I’m not running, Y/N. Not from this. But you have to stop trying to keep me at arm's length, I’m trying my best to help.” His eyes lock onto yours, pleading yet determined. You hate how convincing he can be when he’s like this. How he makes you question your own resolve. “Please,” he adds, his voice dropping. “Just for a little while.”
The conviction in his voice is startling, and it makes something inside you waver. You’re tired, too tired to keep arguing, too tired to keep carrying everything on your shoulders. It’s true, you’re feeling yourself pushback on him. He deserves this—time with Koji, protecting him, and more. It’s just so hard breaking from the fragile bubble you built for your son and you. Satoru’s presence is like a sharp knife, waiting to just poke through it with ease, to get to his family.“Fine,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “But just for tonight. Koji and I will come to your place for tonight.”
Relief washes over his features, but he doesn’t smile. He nods, stepping back to give you space. “That’s all I’m asking.”
As you turn away to gather what you need for the night, you catch a glimpse of Koji peeking out from his room, his eyes wide with curiosity. You put on a smile for his sake, but deep down, you can’t shake the unease settling in your chest. This isn’t just about staying at Satoru’s place. It’s about what this means—what it could mean—and the part of you that still isn’t sure you’re ready to face it.
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The inside of Satoru’s Mercedes is spacious, but asphyxiating. Koji in his car seat in the back, watching something on his tablet. This is the first time you’ve been in the car with Satoru since way long ago. It’s nostalgia, but sickening at the same time. You remember how he would place his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. Or how he likes to rest his hand on the gearstick, or his elbow on the middle console. 
Your skin prickles with goosebumps when he brushes against your arm as he reaches for the temperature controls, adjusting the heat. It’s a small, thoughtless gesture, but it sends an involuntary jolt through you. You glance out the window, pretending to admire the blurred city lights instead of acknowledging the memories flooding back. The hum of the car engine fills the silence, an uncomfortable contrast to the weight of everything left unsaid. Koji giggles at something on his tablet in the backseat, his innocence a stark reminder of why you’re here and why you can’t let your emotions take over.
“You okay?” Satoru’s voice breaks the quiet, calm yet cautious.
“Fine,” you reply quickly, too quickly. You keep your eyes glued to the window, your arms crossed as if to shield yourself from the proximity.
He stops at a red light, leaning back in his sight. He’s a pro at side-eyeing you as you’re faced away. Seeing the way your hands ball into small fists. Nervous. Your foot is tapping on the floor. Thinking. And if he looks closer at your chest, he’ll notice how it’s rising up and down a little more quickly than normal. 
Oh. 
He clears his throat, looking forward as the light turns green. Focus on driving, focus on driving. He doesn’t push, but you can feel his gaze flickering toward you now and then, like he’s reading every shift in your posture, every flicker of hesitation. It’s infuriating how well he knows you, even now. You glance at Koji briefly before turning your gaze back to the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks as the car moves. The nostalgia you felt earlier morphs into a bitter taste in your mouth. You hate how easily Satoru slips into the role of a doting father, as if the years of his absence never happened.
You need to get a better hold of your jealousy. 
“You’re quiet,” Satoru says, breaking the silence.
“Just tired,” you reply curtly, not bothering to look at him.
He hums, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. “Long day, huh?”
You roll your eyes. “You could say that.”
His gaze flicks to you briefly before returning to the road. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. But I’m glad you’re coming with me. It’s the right thing to do.”
You let out a dry laugh, finally turning to face him. “The right thing to do? Since when have you ever cared about the right thing, Satoru?”
His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Then he exhales deeply, gripping the wheel a little tighter. “I care now. Now that you’ve granted me that option,” he says quietly.
You want to scoff, to throw his words back at him, but there’s something in his tone that makes you pause. Something raw, unguarded. The way he gets out those snark remarks angers you, but only further solidifies the weight of your actions, and the fact that things will never be the same. 
The rest of the drive is spent in silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. When the car finally pulls into the underground garage of his penthouse building, Koji’s excitement is palpable.
“Wow! This place is huge!” Koji exclaims, his eyes wide as he looks around.
Satoru chuckles, stepping out of the car and opening the back door to unbuckle Koji. “Wait till you see the view, buddy.”
You follow them, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. As you step into the elevator, you can’t help but feel like you’re being pulled back into a world you thought you’d left behind—one of complications and heartbreak. Satoru presses the button for his floor, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just for one night.”
You don’t respond, staring straight ahead as the elevator begins its ascent. But deep down, you know it’s never just one night with Satoru. 
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“No running.”
“Sorry, Mama.”
You place Koji and your bags on one of the chairs in the kitchen, watching your son rush to his father’s living room. Satoru follows him, hands on his hips. “Hey buddy, bought some toys for you. Do you want to play with them? You like Spiderman, right?”
If possible, Koji’s eyes light up even more with excitement. Gasping and squealing, nodding his head furiously. “I love Spiderman! Mama threw me a Spiderman birthday last time.”
Satoru hums. “Wish I coulda seen that.”
You freeze at Satoru's words, your hand halfway to unpacking one of Koji’s bags. His tone is light, almost wistful, but it feels like a loaded statement—one that stings more than you’d like to admit. You glance over at him and Koji, your son practically bouncing on his toes as Satoru kneels to pull out a neatly wrapped box from a hidden cabinet. “Here you go,” Satoru says, handing it to Koji. “I think you’ll like what’s inside.”
Koji tears into the wrapping with glee, revealing a Spiderman action figure set. He gasps, clutching the box to his chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “Thank you, Papa! This is so cool!”
Your heart twists at how easily Koji has taken to calling him that. It’s like Satoru’s sudden presence is a gift he didn’t realize he’d been missing. And yet, for you, it’s a reminder of the years of absence—of the birthdays and milestones Satoru missed. “Please, don’t spoil him too much,” you mutter, finally unpacking Koji’s things and setting them on the counter.
Satoru looks over his shoulder, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s wrong with a little spoiling? He deserves it.”
You exhale sharply, not bothering to mask your irritation. “What he deserves is consistency.”
His smirk falters, standing back up to his full height and coming over to you. Keeping his voice level calm, in case Koji decides to listen in. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head. 
Satoru narrows his eyes slightly, his expression unreadable as he watches you busy yourself with Koji’s things. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.”
You let out a humorless laugh, refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. Don’t read into it.”
His lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’t push further—not yet. Instead, he leans against the counter, folding his arms as he observes you. “Y/N, you can’t be the angry one in this situation. I thought you understood that.”
“I’m not angry.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m just—” you let out a big breath, looking up at him once more. “I’m tired. Forgive me if I’m not overly happy right now.
Satoru’s gaze softens, his posture relaxing slightly, though the tension in the room lingers like a heavy fog. “I’m not trying to add onto that, I’m just trying to be here for my son.”
I know that. I don’t know why I’m snapping. All you can offer is a nod, reaching into your bag, and grabbing a change of clothes. “I…I’m gonna go shower, watch him please.”
Satoru nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before shifting to the living room where Koji is engrossed in his toys. “Of course. Take your time.”
You offer a small, tight-lipped smile before retreating down the hall, clutching the clothes in your hands like a lifeline. Once you’re inside the bathroom, the door clicks shut behind you, and the weight of everything crashes down. Leaning against the counter, you grip the edge tightly, your knuckles turning white as you take slow, measured breaths. The mirror reflects a version of yourself you hardly recognize—tired, frazzled, and barely holding it together. The faint hum of Koji’s laughter echoes down the hall, grounding you for a moment. At least he’s happy. That’s what matters.
The shower is a welcome escape. The hot water cascades over your skin, washing away the grime of the day and the lingering tension from your conversation with Satoru. You let your head fall forward, droplets sliding down your face, mingling with the tears you didn’t realize had started to fall. You didn’t mean to snap at him. He’s trying, you know that. But the past doesn’t let go so easily, and the overwhelming mix of emotions—anger, fear, hope—leaves you feeling unsteady. And you feel angry at yourself for letting your emotions slip through, getting the best of you. You’re surprised Satoru hasn’t been more outwardly rude to you, short, or even snappy. It seems like he’s taking this all better than you are, and once again, that bitter jealousy of yours is shining through. How he can just handle things so smoothly—at least that’s what it seems like. But he’s used to all this: the spotlight, public eye, attention. You just wish things could’ve been handled…differently. 
Everything feels like a domino effect, starting all with that dreaded day at the grocery store. How so much has changed. 
 By the time you step out, you feel a fraction lighter, though the knot in your chest remains. You towel off, change into your clean clothes, and take a moment to steel yourself before heading back into the fray.
When you return to the living room, you find Satoru sitting cross-legged on the floor with Koji, holding up a miniature Spiderman figure. Koji is giggling, animatedly explaining an intricate story about how Spiderman saves the day. Satoru glances up as you walk in, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Hey. We’re just working on a top-secret mission over here. No big deal.”
Koji looks up too, beaming. “Mama! Papa’s playing Spiderman with me! He’s really good at the voices.”
You can’t help the small smile that forms, even as your heart aches a little at the sight. “Sounds like you two are having fun.”
Satoru nods, his expression soft. “We’re a good team.”
You stand there for a moment, watching them, the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders once more. Maybe this is what Koji needs. Maybe this is what you need. But trusting him again…that’s the hardest part.
That night, eating dinner at Satoru’s long dining table, the same one where you faced his parents, it all feels strange, to say the least. The clinking of cutlery against porcelain plates echoes faintly in the vast dining room, filling the silence between the three of you. Koji hums to himself as he picks at his plate, occasionally glancing at his father to tell him some small details about his day or ask about the toys he’d gotten earlier. Satoru engages him with ease, his tone light and playful, but you can see the flickers of something deeper behind his smiles—guilt, maybe, or a desperate need to make up for lost time.
And then there’s you, sitting stiffly at the other end of the table, your appetite wavering as your mind keeps drifting back to the last time you sat here. That memory is sharp and vivid, like an old wound that hasn’t quite healed.
But Koji’s laughter brings you back down to Earth. Looking up from your plate of food to the sight before you. Father and son, son and father, family. They look so alike, you don’t think you can ever get over the blatant resemblance. Satoru’s genes are just very strong. You wish Koji could’ve inherited a few more things from you. You place a hand on your lower stomach, as if a physical touch will make the strange abundance of butterflies flying around in there to go away. 
It’s strange, this setup. Domestic in a way you never thought you’d experience with him again. But it’s also…nice. 
It feels whole, like this is how things should be. Would’ve been had you not held your tongue for so long. And you’re starting to think to yourself how much you like this sight. How it’s making you feel at home.
But this isn’t your home. However, you think you can pretend for just one night. 
“You’re not eating much,” Satoru says, pulling you out of your thoughts. His voice is casual, but there’s an undertone of concern.
Your eyes widen at him, realizing you’ve been caught staring and quickly looking back down. “I’m fine,” you say, forcing a small smile. “Just sleepy, I guess.”
“I bet,” he says, and while his tone is conversational, his gaze lingers on you, searching for something beneath your calm facade.
“Yeah,” you reply shortly, stabbing at a piece of vegetable on your plate. You don’t want to talk about your day or your worries or the mounting anxiety sitting heavy in your chest. Not here, not now.
Koji interrupts before Satoru can press further, his voice bright and full of excitement. “Papa, can we watch a movie after dinner? Mama too!”
Satoru grins, lightly pinching his cheekbone. “Of course, buddy. What movie are we watching?”
Koji claps his hands together, listing off a couple of titles before settling on one of his favorites. You manage another smile, this one a little more genuine, as you watch the way Satoru effortlessly makes Koji light up. For a moment, the tension eases, and you let yourself focus on Koji’s joy. Maybe this is enough for now. Maybe that’s all you need to get through the evening.
But as you glance at Satoru across the table, his eyes catching yours for a brief second, you’re reminded of how fragile this truce feels. Of how much history lies between you, threatening to resurface at any moment.
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Koji picks Spiderman, of course. You’ve watched this movie at least a hundred times now, maybe more. You can practically recite the lines perfectly. The movie plays on, the familiar dialogue flowing like background noise to your swirling thoughts. You’ve seen this scene so many times—the hero’s triumphant swing through the city, the bad guy’s dramatic monologue, the moments of comic relief Koji always laughs at—but tonight, it feels different. There’s an added layer of tension sitting heavy between you and Satoru.
The living room feels unusually cozy, the dimmed lighting casting a warm glow over the space. Koji wiggles in his spot, clutching a Spiderman plush as he stares at the screen with unblinking eyes, thoroughly engrossed. You, on the other hand, are trying not to let your exhaustion bubble over. Koji sits between you two, Satoru’s arm over his little shoulders. Satoru’s arm rests casually behind Koji, but every so often, as he adjusts his position, his fingers graze your shoulder—a light, fleeting touch that feels far too deliberate to be accidental. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, but he seems entirely focused on the movie, his face relaxed, a small smirk tugging at his lips during one of Koji’s excited reactions. So, you ignore it. But you do shift slightly, creating just enough distance to break the contact. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.
Koji laughs out loud at a particularly funny scene, leaning against Satoru’s side. “That’s so cool, Papa! I wanna do that someday!”
Satoru chuckles, ruffling Koji’s hair. “Maybe we’ll get you a Spiderman costume, and you can be the hero of the city.”
Koji beams at him, his excitement is contagious. For a brief moment, you allow yourself to appreciate this dynamic, the way Satoru fits so naturally into Koji’s world. You hate to admit it, but this is what Koji’s been missing—what you’ve been missing, too, in some small, buried way. Satoru’s hand once again brushes your shoulder during his next adjustment, that buried part of you is quickly overshadowed by the reminder of why this dynamic fell apart in the first place.
Luckily, Koji is already showered and dressed for bed in his matching red set. So as the movie progresses, nearing its end, so does his sleepiness. You along with him. Koji’s head begins to droop as the credits start to roll, his little body leaning further into Satoru’s side. His eyelids flutter with each blink, his earlier excitement now replaced by the slow pull of sleep. Satoru’s about to make a remark, before looking over at you and seeing your body slumped over on the other side. 
The scene feels peaceful in a way he hadn’t anticipated—a rare moment of quiet amidst the chaos that’s been your guys’ lives lately. Koji’s soft breathing grows steadier, his small body completely leaning into Satoru’s side now, one hand clutching his Spiderman plush while the other hangs limply at his side. Satoru glances down at his son with a faint smile, brushing Koji’s hair out of his face with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. He looks over to you next, ready your head resting on your hand. Your expression is soft, lips parted slightly as you drift into the kind of sleep that only exhaustion can bring. Satoru looks at the clock; 9:00pm.
For a moment, he just watches you both. Koji, who looks so much like him it’s almost uncanny, and you, the woman who’s somehow always managed to throw him off balance without even trying. He sighs softly, shaking his head at the scene before him. For a split second, he feels a shadow—a ghost from the past appears beside Koji. A baby girl who would’ve been seven by now.The baby girl who never got the chance to grow up. In that fleeting, haunting moment, he imagines her sitting there too, nestled beside her brother, giggling at Spiderman’s antics. He can imagine her features. She would’ve looked so much like you, it’s painful.
His chest tightens, and he has to look away, focusing on a random corner of the room as he fights to steady his breathing. It’s not fair—to her, to Koji, or to you. And yet, here he is, caught in the what-ifs and the might-have-beens, unable to let go of a past that feels like it happened both a lifetime ago and just yesterday. The glimpse is gone as soon as it comes, to which he’s thankful for because he is not crying right now. With a small grunt, he stands up and carefully moves Koji into his arms. Adjusting the boy and making sure he’s not waking up, he walks him over to the spare bedroom.
Satoru moves quietly, his footsteps soft against the floor as he cradles Koji in his arms. The boy’s head rests comfortably on his shoulder, his small body relaxed and completely unaware of the careful handling. The weight of his son in his arms, the warmth of Koji’s tiny form, is a stark reminder of everything he’s been missing. He pushes the door to the spare bedroom open gently, trying not to disturb the silence of the house. The moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a calm glow across the room. Satoru places Koji carefully on the bed, tucking him in with the same gentle movements he’s always used. He watches for a moment as the boy shifts slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips before settling back into a peaceful sleep.
For a second, Satoru just stands there, hands lingering at Koji’s side as if unsure of when to leave. It’s as if the past week—no, the past years—are catching up to him in this very moment. He never thought he'd be here, standing in a room like this, watching his son sleep under a roof that used to feel so distant. His chest tightens, but he refuses to let himself feel the weight of it. Not yet. Not with Koji so close. With one last look, he slowly pulls away, stepping back into the hallway and quietly closing the door behind him. The house feels colder as he moves through it, but this time, it’s not because of the empty spaces or the lingering tension. It’s because, for the first time in years, he’s truly trying to figure out where he fits in all of this.
And it’s a lot harder than he ever expected.
He walks back to the living room, your body now completely lying on your side. His lips purse as he stands before you, unsure if he should wake you or move you himself. Would that be okay? Is he crossing some boundary of yours if he touches you fully and intentionally?
Satoru stands there for a moment, studying you as you sleep. The soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your body curls slightly into the pillow, creates a sense of peace in the room, but also a sense of tension in him. The pull to reach out, to make sure you’re comfortable, is strong. But he hesitates, his mind racing with thoughts about boundaries, and the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable, especially when everything already feels so fragile between the two of you. He watches for a few more seconds, the quiet of the room making everything feel so... still. He doesn’t know how he got here, standing in the middle of the room, feeling so torn. Part of him wants to just go ahead and make sure you’re properly tucked in, like he did with Koji. But that other part of him continues to wonderf if that’s overstepping, if his presence, even now, feels intrusive. Satoru exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally, he decides to attempt to recreate his actions for Koji; it’s the least he can do.
He bends his knees slightly, hands reaching out. But just as his fingertips graze your bare arms, you’re jolting up and awake. Head swiveling around, eyes barely open and bleary. “What’s happening? Where’s Koji?”
Satoru freezes, his fingers hovering in the air as your voice cuts through the stillness. His eyes flick to you, wide and disoriented from the abruptness of your awakening. "Y/N?" He murmurs, his voice low and hesitant, almost as if he's unsure whether you’re fully awake. "Koji’s in the other room, he’s asleep."
You sit up, rubbing your eyes, still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Your thoughts are jumbled, disoriented from the deep slumber you’d just woken from. “I— I didn’t hear him... when did he go to bed?”
Satoru, still crouched by your bedside, lets out a soft sigh, his expression softening. "I put him down a few minutes ago. He was out before the movie ended." He pauses for a second, watching you carefully, his hand still lingering awkwardly in the air as if unsure whether to touch you or not. "You were really tired, so I thought I'd handle it."
You blink, the fog in your mind barely beginning to clear. Slowly, you nod, still trying to process everything in the haze of your exhaustion. “Thank you.” The words come out quieter than you expect, but there’s something in your voice that surprises both of you.
Satoru’s gaze lingers for a moment, a mix of concern and relief flashing in his eyes. He stands up, backing away from the bed slowly. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he says softly, hands running through his hair as he takes a step toward the door. “But you should go to bed. You can sleep with Koji or um—in my bed if you want.”
You stare at his figure, the weight of the situation still pressing down on you. There’s so much 
happening, so much you didn’t expect, and yet… for some reason, having him here, like this, almost feels normal. You rub your temples, trying to stave off the headache forming. 
“I’ll sleep out here, of course,” he quickly adds on, realizing the small, but accidental hinting.
You raise an eyebrow at his quick backpedaling, a small, almost reluctant smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It's been a long time since you shared any sort of space with him—especially under these circumstances. But the way he’s stumbling over his words, trying so hard to make things comfortable, it makes you wonder if maybe he’s not as composed as he likes to act. “Thanks,” you murmur, rubbing your temples again. The migraine's intensity is growing, and it's all you can do to keep your emotions in check. You hadn’t expected this—any of it. Satoru’s presence here, offering you comfort in his own odd way, only complicates everything more. You never asked for this kind of help, but you can't deny the relief it brings. “I’ll sleep with Koji.”
Satoru’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer, his expression softening as if he’s weighing his words carefully, trying not to overstep. He knows you’re not the type to ask for help. Hell, you hardly ever accept it when it’s offered. But tonight is different. Tonight is full of a thousand unspoken things. The lingering tension, the awkwardness of it all, and the confusing emotions between you two. It’s all too much, too quickly, and yet you feel the pull of something familiar—a bond you haven’t felt in years. “You sure?” he asks, his voice low. Almost like he’s waiting for you to give him some kind of permission or reassurance, something that lets him know you’re okay. His presence, his concern for Koji, it’s all so overwhelming in its own way.
You hesitate, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens just having him this close, even if it is just in the same house. “I’ll be fine,” you say, your voice a little softer than you intended. The last thing you want to do is drag him back into your life fully. But he’s already here, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you're too tired to argue. "You don’t have to stay out here." The words hang in the air for a beat.
You take this moment to rise from the couch, wiping your eyes once more. “Where is he?”
“Spare room,” he points.
You nod, more to yourself than to him, and retreat to the spare room. The migraine pounds in the background of your mind. Mind still riddled with sleep, you accidentally bump your shoulder into the wall, footsteps faltering. He moves faster than you anticipated—expected, his hands finally making contact with your upper arms; stablizing you. His touch itself feels reminiscent.
His grip on your arms is steady, firm—just like it used to be. You catch your breath for a moment, not expecting the familiarity of his touch to feel so grounding. For a split second, you’re taken back to moments from the past, the memories of simpler days when his touch brought comfort instead of tension. You want to pull away, to remind yourself that things aren’t the same anymore. But you’re too tired, too worn out, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into the stability he’s offering without question.
"Careful," Satoru’s voice is quiet, but there's a soft edge to it, like he’s genuinely concerned. His hands stay on your arms, not pulling away immediately, as if waiting for you to give him a signal that you’re okay.
You blink, the haze of sleep making everything feel just a little more surreal. "I’m fine," you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, but it lacks conviction. Your body feels heavier than it should, and your mind seems to be swimming in fog.
He doesn’t let go right away. Instead, his fingers give a slight squeeze, a small, unspoken reassurance. "You sure? You look like you’re about to fall over."
"I’m just... tired," you say, the words slipping from your lips before you even realize. You wince internally, but it’s too late to take them back now. There’s no point.
Satoru nods, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the hallway, but the way his eyes linger on you makes something in your chest tighten. It’s like he’s still trying to figure you out, still trying to read you after all these years. He always was good at that. Without saying much more, he gently guides you to the door of the spare room, a hand hovering above the small of your back; his touch still light but firm. He’s not pushing you, just there, a quiet presence in the storm. "Get some rest. I’ll be nearby, just in case."
You nod, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and frustration well up inside you. "Thanks," you murmur, finally able to pull away from his grip and step into the room.
Before you close the door, you glance over at him, standing there in the hallway, his figure outlined by the soft glow from the living room. "Good night," you add, your voice a little softer than you meant it to be.
He doesn’t respond immediately, but there’s a flicker in his eyes that you can’t quite place. After a beat, he says quietly, "Good night, Y/N."
And then, with one last look, he walks away, leaving you alone in the quiet darkness of the room. The door clicks softly behind you, and for the first time in days, you feel a small sense of peace—fragile, uncertain, but there all the same.
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Satoru has taken the liberty of getting Koji dressed and ready for school. Shushing his son with quiet murmurs so you won’t wake up. He’s a little surprised, but you must be that tired. Satoru usually wakes up earlier than most, having went to go check on you two, but getting shocked to see his son using the bathroom instead and saying something about how “Mama’s still sleeping, I have school.”
He’s a smart kid—a very smart kid. He guided Satoru the entire ride, remembering the name of his school and which streets to use. You raised him well. He parks his car in the lot, it stands out like a sore thumb among the civics, corollas, and trucks.
Carrying Koji in his arms towards the boys classroom. “Excited, buddy?”
“Mhm!” 
Satoru smiles and kisses his cheek. “I’ll pick you up, okay?”
“Okay, Papa. Thank you.” Koji gratefully responds.
“No need to thank me, Koji. It’s my job.”
Satoru can feel the lingering stares and hushed whispers as he walks down the hallway to his son’s class. Ignoring it like a pro and focusing on one thing and one thing only. As they approach his room, Mr. Ito is standing outside like usual. As soon as the man sees the two, his eyes visibly widen before playing it off with a cough of his throat. “Good morning, Koji. Gojo.”
Satoru remembers the guy as the one from the cafe. That one. He nods in understanding, setting Koji down and crouching with him. “Have a fun day, I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Papa.” Koji kisses his cheek and rushes inside happily. 
 "Morning," Satoru replies coolly, standing tall as he watches Koji run off to join his classmates. "I trust Koji’s been good?"
"Of course, of course," Mr. Ito replies quickly, his smile tight, the words coming out a little too fast. "He’s been a delight to have here. Very bright."
Satoru nods, but his eyes never leave Mr. Ito’s. "Glad to hear it."
There’s an awkward silence that stretches between them, but Satoru isn’t in the mood for small talk. He could read the teacher’s discomfort, and he’s not about to play into it. After all, it’s not like they’re friends, or even acquaintances. Mr. Ito shifts on his feet, and Satoru can tell he’s trying to think of something to say, something that will smooth over whatever awkwardness hangs in the air. “So, where’s Ms. Y/N today?”
Satoru’s brows tick, arms crossing. “At home.”
Mr. Ito nods, clearly trying to gauge whether there’s more to the story, but Satoru doesn’t give him any openings. He’s not in the mood to entertain questions about you, not now, not here, especially not from someone like him. "Ah, I see," Mr. Ito mumbles, his voice trailing off as he shuffles his feet again. "I just thought... well, with everything that’s been going on, I expected to see her here, too."
Satoru’s eyes narrow, though his expression remains calm, just a hint of warning in his tone. "She’s handling things on her own. We’re both doing fine. You don’t need to worry about it. You have a class full of children to teach."
The other man hides his displeasure behind a stiff nod. “Right, right. Just wondering, that’s all.”
“Don’t have to, she already has a man for that.”
Satoru wonders why he’s being do damn weird right now. Possesive almost. You two aren’t together, but the way this guy is asking about you, it’s slightly setting him off. Who does he think he is worrying about you?
Mr. Ito falters, his smile fading as Satoru’s words hang heavy in the air. "Right, of course," he mumbles, clearly taken aback. He shifts on his feet, his eyes darting to the ground before locking back onto Satoru. "Just asking, I mean… it's just a lot going on, you know?"
Satoru’s gaze hardens, the protective instinct that rises within him catching him off guard. He takes a slight step closer to Mr. Ito, his tone deliberately neutral but carrying an edge. "You don’t need to worry about her. She’s got it covered."
There’s a flicker of something in Mr. Ito’s eyes—something that hints he’s about to say something else, but he swallows it down, nodding stiffly instead. "Yeah, of course." He quickly looks away, clearing his throat. "Well, I guess I’ll… I’ll get back to the class."
Satoru stands still for a moment, his posture rigid, a sharp edge in his expression as he watches Mr. Ito retreat. He doesn't know why it bothered him so much. The guy wasn’t even doing anything wrong, not really. But the way he was asking about you—like he had any right to—made something inside Satoru twist uncomfortably. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this man didn’t belong in your world, that he had no place prying into your life.
Satoru finally exhales, shaking his head. Whatever. It was just a teacher.
With one last glance at the classroom door, he turns and heads back to the school doors. There's no reason to overthink this. It’s just… odd. He can’t let it get to him.
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You wake up that day to a lone bed. Groaning to yourself as the sunbeams spray across your face and momentarily blind you. Hand reaching out for the space next to you. Instead, you see a note saying: dropped koji off, i’ll be back around noon to grab some lunch. sleep up
Instantly, your eyes widen, springing up out of bed. Reaching for your phone, the time reads 11:30pm. “Shit!” you curse to yourself, rushing out the door and to your bag still on the chair from last night. You dig in for your work clothes, changing right there and then and praying to the gods that Satoru doesn’t walk through this door. Brushing your teeth, hair, washing your face, putting some moustirzer and sunscreen on, all of it takes way too long. By the time you’re done and messily putting your shoes on, it’s twelve. Four hours after you were supposed to be at work. Hana’s going to kill me.
Grabbing your bag with rough and rushed movements, you’re sprinting to the door at this point. Out of breath and already conjuring up a sorry apology for Hana. you reach the doorhandle, flinging it open. But as soon as you do, you come to an abrupt stop.
Because standing before you is a woman, a woman you’ve seen before on Satoru’s lock screen. The same woman who kissed the lips that you used to. Arms crossed and a nasty scowl forming on her face as she eyes you up and down in a criticizing way. 
Finally, she scoffs out. 
“Do you know who I am?”
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a/n: they so cute
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kill4luvina · 1 month ago
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"Right thru me"
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Onyankopon x Black!Reader
Summary : You and your man been havin' this dumb argument, and he know you so well it lowkey freaks you out. Especially today because he already had your whole routine down from prior nights when you'd act up exactly like this.
CW : SMUT, Pussy Slapping, Overstimulation, reader tryna run from the dick,Unprotected sex, (probably a lil more),not proof read. (This is a really really old draft im posting.)
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" What are we doin'? Could you see through me? 'Cause you say, "Y/N," and I say, "Who, me?" And you say, "No, you," and I say, "Screw you"
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Your jaw would drop as your stared at your boyfriend after hearing the bullshit that just came out his mouth. "You blowin my shi, like shut the actual fuck up." You'd say before turning your body away from him annoyed as fuck. "Mamas, you know damn well this ain't worth gettin' all worked up about," Ony would say, glancin' at you for a sec before realizing you were genuinely mad.
"Mamas… can you at least finish my hair before you get mad…?" he'd ask, getting up from where he was sitting and slowly walking over to you. You'd turn your back quickly, throwing the comb you had from doing his hair straight at him. He'd catch it, pissing you off even more as you stormed off into your room, leaving him completely alone in the living room.
He already knew you'd be in your room hitting your vape like a mad woman just out of pure anger. "Mamas.." He'd call from the opposite side of the door, slowly opening as you two make eye contact. "Come back please," he'd plead, already knowing you'd say no as you'd turn your body so your back was now facing him.
You'd hit your vape a couple of times before feeling a small kiss in your neck. "I'm sorry.." He'd whisper softly, knowing this always made you weak. Even before this, in a life before when it came to him his soul knew how to make yours feel better no matter what.
"Why would you say that..?" You'd ask firmly, trying to stand your ground. You'd be caught off guard feeling Ony's warm hands up against your skin. He'd softly play with your tits under your shirt leaving soft love bites on your neck. "You know I don't mean it.." he'd whisper.
"Onyyy-" you'd moan eyes rolling back as you felt his dick hitting you in all the right places. Your pussy creaming all over his dick as he gave you slow deep strokes. "You like that?" He'd ask, slapping your ass as he kept a constant speed.
"Oh-- oh my god.." You'd cry as you felt him pull out slapping his dick against your pussy. Slowly pushing himself back in you'd push your hips back so it'd slip in faster. He'd softly whimper, his eyes focusing on how your pussy swallowed him whole.
"Mama's, stop acting like you can take this dick.." He'd slap your ass getting a gasp out of you. "Y-yes I can!" You'd try to say as you started fucking back into him trying to prove him wrong.
"You always saying that shit until I'm rearranging your guts and you runnin'.." He'd said as he used a hand to push you head down into the bed, already aware of what your stubborn ass was gonna say. "Onyy, fuck mee" you'd whine getting your head pushed down, arching your back more for him.
"mmhm," He'd say putting a leg up onto the bed, as he started to pick up his pace. His eyes focusing now how creamy he could make your pussy, your moans getting louder as you tried your hardest to keep fucking back into him to prove him wrong.
Your eyes getting blurry the moment you felt a slap to your ass, whining you'd turn to look up at him. "Ony, stop being so mean.." You'd weakly let out as you kept fucking yourself onto his dick, he'd raise a brow before pulling out and slapping your pussy. "Ony!" You'd moan the mixture of pain & pleasure confusing you.
He'd go right back to fucking you, but this time his thrusts were deeper, quicker and much more rough. Not even a minute passes by and your cumming, your eyes rolling so far back as your pussy tightened around him.
"See, look at you, a mess." He'd say still fucking you, at the same pace but even rougher. "O-onyyy, too muchhh." you'd cry tears already rolling down you cheek as you felt him speeding up his pace. "But you can take it, right?" He'd continue as he'd slap your ass here and there.
"Can'ttt" you'd cry, reaching a hand back to attempt to push him back. "Mama's, what i said abt running from the dick?" he'd ask ignoring your silly attempt as he picked the pace up fucking you even deeper. "ddont rememberr" you'd babble out feeling like you couldn't remember anything.
"yeah, alright. just move this fucking hand."
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" You make me laugh, you make hoarse from yelling at you And getting at you, picking up dishes, throwing them at you "
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letmerideitchris · 1 month ago
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𐬺𝐕𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𐬺
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Summary: Chris matt and nick get a new videographer, she is funny, smart and pretty, basically everything Chris could ever want in a girl. Chris finds it impossible to not fall for her…
Warnings: smut, blowjob, getting caught, cursing
Wc: 1014
𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑
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“guys i dont want a new videographer, memo was the best and i dont think anyone could do what he did” chris says as he sits up from the couch
Nick rolls his eyes at chris’ comment. “chris you're gonna have to get over it because our new one is here in 15 minutes whether you like it or not.”
“maybe you will like him!” matt says trying to brighten the mood, but chris just scoffs and looks away
“matt what, you know its a girl right?” nick says looking at matt with a shocked expression
“really? Well thats good for a change of scenery i guess!” matt replies as he shrugs his shoulders
“this is dumb, i think i would rather stop filming content then get a new videographer”
“okay that is so dramatic get over yourself she’s here in probably 10 minutes now so put on a smile and dont be a bitch” nick snaps back
10 minutes later you arrive at their front door and hesitantly ring their door bell.
ding dong
“chris, how about you go and get the door because you're being such a whiny little baby” nick
“nick i swear to…okay ill do it.” chris sighs loudly as he walks downstairs towards their front door
Chris opens the door slowly to see the most gorgeous girl he has ever seen, the only thing hes thinking is all the things they can do together, but hes quickly taken out of his trance when y/n speaks up.
“hi im y/n! You must be… nick?” you say presumptuously
“h-hi yeah um nick.. I MEAN chris, yes, chris” “nice to meet you, y/n”
You chuckle “well lovley to meet you chris, would you like to take me upstairs to meet the other boys?”
“uhh YES of course i think they would love that” chris speaks up as he takes you upstairs to meet his brothers.
Chris is too stunned to speak properly, nick and matt meet you and they think you are great.
“sorry guys but it was kind of a long drive, would it be okay if i got some water please?”
“yeah no problem ill sort you out and give you a little tour of the place” matt replies walking in the direction of their fridge
“see chris, she doesnt seem bad at all, if anything she seems-”
“like my dream girl, yeah, i know, i dont know what to do” chris blurts out, feeling like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders from the confession.
“um so not what i was going to say but yeah okay! Your gonna have to hold all that in because i don't want you to fuck anything up and make it awkward” “oh god chris why are you sweating, you're gross go change” he says backing away from chris disgustedly
“i dont think that can happen nick but yeah ill get changed..” chris replies, aware of his sweaty clothes
Chris is opening his door with his top only half on
“shit! Oh hi sorry you gave me a shock.. How did you-” chris says as he slightly jumps back from his door frame
“matt said this was your room, i was just coming up to check it out, but that can wait for another time” y/n says apologetically “sorry I came up, that was dumb..”
“no it wasnt..” chris says reassuringly, slightly cutting her off
Your both standing there staring at eachother not knowing what to do, chris takes a slow step forward, you do the same, you continue looking at eachother until you hesitate.
“no, it was dumb, sorry, i will see you downstairs chris” y/n says quietly as she quickly walks away from chris
chris is left standing there wondering if he did anything wrong, guilt clouds his mind but he decides to make his way back upstairs all dressed.
“oh wow how nice of you to finally join us chris!” nick says whilst sarcastically clapping his hands
You are standing near the couch looking at him standing from the top of the stairs
“guys i need to go to the store to get some stomach medicine I'll be back” matt says grabbing his car keys
“matt are you kidding? Can your sore little stomach just wait?”
“no nick, it can't actually wait, that's why i am leaving now”
“god you are annoying, but i know you dont like driving alone so i will come…”
“arent you just a cutie!!” matt says jokingly and walks towards the door
“shut the fuck up or i am not coming, dont make it a big deal lets go”
Chris clears his throat “uhh so will me and y/n just like stay here” he speaks up
You both glance at eachother
“oh um yeah about that-” nick says quietly, only so matt can hear
“yes? What’s wrong with that? Whatever i am leaving now” matt
Nick stares at chris giving him a death stare as he leaves
The door shuts
Youre both sitting there awkwardly waiting for one of you to speak up
Chris breaks the silence “uh y/n… i am kinda sorry about before, i didnt mean to make things awkward”
“no, dont be sorry, i just didnt want your brothers to come up and see that.. But now they are gone.. So"
Chris swallows nervously as he looks at you with lust in his eyes
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10 minutes later
All that can be heard from the living room is groaning and whimpering “mmph chris who knew in the first 30 minutes of knowing you i would be swallowing your dick” you say finally taking a breath
“youre good, a bit too good” chris says moaning “how many other guys have you done this to”
“well lets just say-”
Before you could answer you both here keys screwing into the front door, and faint talking from familiar voices
It opens
You are both staring at each other stuck on what to do as they hear footsteps coming up the stairs
“OKAY WHAT THE FUCK IT HAS BEEN 10 MINUTES CHRIS” nick says covering his eyes dramatically
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divider credits @bernardsbendystraws
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