#chocolate laxatives

[beatersteeleblippoedition]

viva la juicy

Viva la juicy :diva emoji 💜 @pe11e-0hlinsrealsou1mate @blippibeter 🏇🏇🏇🐎🐴 galloping rn.

[violentpretty777]

girl dinner !!! YuuuuuuuuuuuuuuM

[murphysiblings]

i suddenly remembered a period of time where i was so worried about trying to lose weight & had what might be considered an eating disorder . im so far away from who that person was . i love nom nom nomming yummy treats too much to ever do something like that again

[mabelsguidetolife]

[killjoygem]

I sooo want to give my little sisters advice on how to get away with stuff better but i know I Shouldn't. do that.

[the-unnecessary-commentary]

Bologna because I have gluten allergy

Inspired by that poll coming for British food, have an alternative.

Shout-out to @sigh-the-kraken for suggesting American delicacies I wouldn't want to touch 👍

[motherismotheringggg]

I just read completely unraveled and it was SO GOOD. I love the dominant yet gentle nick!! Could you write a part 2 about the aftercare that followed? Thank You!!!!����🎀

the weight of warmth ☁️

completely unraveled sequel

summary: see the request above — another sickening anon request 🙂‍↕️

type: pleasure dom! nicholas x sub! female reader

tags/warnings: 18+, established relationship, cockwarming, showering together, clit stimulation

author’s note: this was fun to work on, i feel like it kinda dragged a little but i hope yall like it!!!

tag list: @blackynsupremacy , @hoffmansgirl , @essentialwriter , @lalavenderficrecs , @nicholaschavezslut69 , @titsout4nicholas

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

The air in the room was thick with the lingering heat of everything that had just happened. The soft buzz of the city muffled through the window. The low lights of the city streaked across the bed in long, hazy ribbons. Your body still trembled, your muscles lax and spent, every nerve in your body still singing in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Nicholas didn’t move right away. His weight on top of you felt, not restrictive, but comforting and grounding you. Keeping you safe in a way words could never could. His head, nestled in the crook of your neck, and for a moment, you both stayed like that, your hands drifting slowly up and down his back, tracing the ridges of his spine with featherlight touches.

You thought for a moment he fell asleep, his body seemed so content and hummed of being utterly spent. “You okay, baby?” he asked softly, his voice husky and raw. His lips moved against your collarbone as he spoke, his words vibrating through you.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Mhm, I just need a second,” you murmured your voice barely more than a whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice.

He shifted, slowly propping himself up on his elbows, gazing down at you with those warm, chocolate eyes. His brows furrowed slightly with concern as he searched your face, his hand coming up to push a strand of damp hair away from your forehead. “Too much?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for any sign of discomfort.

It was almost endearing, the way Nicholas cared so deeply about your safety and well-being whenever you were together like this. No matter how many times you’d told him you were fine, he’d still ask, still check, his worry so genuine it made your heart ache in the best way. Sometimes, he didn’t even catch when you were joking, his focus so intent on making sure you felt good. It’s what made moments like this feel so much more than just physical—it was care, it was love.

“No,” you said quickly to reassure him, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over the chisle of his cheekbone. “It’s perfect, Nick. Thank you.”

His face softened at that, his lips curving into a small, tender smile. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, letting it linger for a moment longer than usual. Then, with slow, deliberate care, he pulled out of you, his breath catching at the loss of contact. You winced slightly at the sensation, but he’s already moving, already tending to you.

“I’ll be back,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple before slipping off the bed. You watched him as he walked to the bathroom, his broad back glistening with sweat, his muscles shifting with every step. He disappeared for a moment, and you heard the sound of running water.

When he returned, he made his way to the closet, his movements unhurried but purposeful. He pulled out a pair of black Nike briefs for himself, his fingers brushing over the fabric as if making sure it’s just right. Then, with the same level of care, he grabbed one of his oversized t-shirts for you—one of the ones you’d claimed long ago but he’d never asked for back.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he said softly, reaching out his hand for you to grab. His voice gentle and coaxing, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the moment. You nodded, letting him pull you up with a gentlessness and ease only he could master.

He couldn’t help himself. Before he could lead you to the shower, he kissed you—deep and slow. His hands slid down your sides, fingers pressing into the soft curves of your hips as he pulled you closer. Flesh to flesh, your skin stuck to his, the shared heat of your bodies mingling with the damp sheen of sweat still clinging to you both. The kiss deepened, hungry but not rushed, a slow, consuming pull that left you breathless.

His grip on you was firm but never harsh, a steady claim of presence and control. It’s what you craved most—to feel his certainty, the unwavering way he guided you into surrender. You’d let him take you apart as many times as he wanted, just to feel this closeness, this absolute devotion. Every tilt of his head, every brush of his tongue against yours felt like a vow.

You were addicted to being controlled by Nicholas, to the way he knew your body so completely it felt like he’d mapped it out in his mind. The way he read every shift of your breath, every shiver, every gasp—like a conductor leading an orchestra of your pleasure. He’d never failed to pull every ounce of it from you, and it’s why you’d follow him anywhere.

But Nicholas? Nicholas was addicted to you. To the way your skin felt under his hands, the way your breath hitched when he touched a spot he’d memorized long ago. Your smell, your taste—the intoxicating combination of you lingered on his tongue long after you’d gone still. It’s the way you called out his name at the peak of your orgasm, his name sharp and desperate on your lips, like only he could bring you to that place. Because he could. And he knew it.

His lips parted from yours slowly, leaving your lips wet and swollen from the intensity of it all. His eyes stayed locked on yours, his gaze heavy with desire and pride. One of his hands slid up to cup your chin, his thumb resting just beneath your bottom lip, tilting your face up so you’d look at him.

“I could have you again if I wanted,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, a slow drawl of confidence and possession. His eyes roamed over your face, taking in the way your lips parted in anticipation. “You’d like that, huh?”

You nodded, a shy but eager nod, biting your bottom lip as your eyes flickered to his mouth. You’d let him have you a thousand times if he asked. You’d gladly let him unravel you until the sun peeked through the blinds, until your legs gave out beneath you.

He watched you for a moment longer, his gaze filled with unspoken promises. Then, slowly, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, soft and grounding, as if sealing the moment into permanence. “Patience, though,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “Let’s save it.”

————

Nicholas slid back the glass door to the shower, steam fogging up every surface in the bathroom. He stuck his hand out to test the water, knowing you liked it hot—scorching as he often joked. Satisfied, he turned back to you, extending a hand with a soft, knowing smile.

“Come on, baby,” he said gently, his voice a low, soothing hum. You slipped your hand into his, letting him guide you into the warmth of the shower. The water poured down in steady streams, washing away the stickiness from your skin. You sighed as the heat seeped into your muscles, easing the tension you hadn’t realized was still there.

Nicholas stepped in, in front of you, the water cascading down his broad shoulders and chest, trailing along the hard planes of his body. He stood there for a moment, letting it soak him fully before his eyes met yours. His gaze was soft but grounding—serious in a way that made you feel seen, cherished.

“Turn around for me,” he murmured, his hands already on your waist, guiding you gently. You obeyed, the warmth of the water flowing down your back as he reached for the body wash. The familiar click of the bottle’s cap echoed through the space. He lathered up his hands, his touch firm but gentle as he smoothed the suds over your shoulders, down your back, and along the curve of your spine.

His hands moved with care, slow and deliberate. Each stroke of his palms felt like a silent reminder of his devotion. The soft slip of the lather against your skin sent shivers down your spine, but his hands were steady, grounding you in his presence. He worked his way down to your lower back, his thumbs pressing in small circles that made you sigh in contentment.

“Turn back around,” he said softly, and you did, facing him once more. He reached for the showerhead, angling it toward you. The warm spray cascaded over you, rinsing away the soap in smooth rivulets. You glanced up at him, watching the way the water streamed down his face, over his sharp jawline, and along the broad expanse of his chest. The sight made something flutter low in your stomach.

“Your turn,” he said, a small grin tugging at his lips as he handed you the body wash.

You squeezed some of the body wash into your hands, rubbing them together until a rich lather formed. Your palms pressed against his chest, the suds building in thick, frothy swirls that made every curve of muscle stand out beneath your fingers. His eyes stayed on you, half-lidded but watchful, his lips parting slightly as he exhaled a soft breath.

Your hands worked slowly, savoring the feel of him under your fingertips. You followed the curve of his pecs, the firm ridges of his abs, every inch of him slick and soapy. You couldn't help yourself. As you rinsed him off, you leaned forward, pressing soft kisses along his chest and shoulders. Your lips trailed over his skin, gentle and unhurried, the warmth of him mingling with the heat of the shower.

Nicholas’s hands found your waist again, steady and grounding. He turned you around slowly, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “Let me get your back.” He reached for the body wash again, working it into a lather before smoothing it down your spine, his fingers firm but soothing. The sensation made you sigh, leaning into him, letting him hold you up.

When he finished rinsing you off, he pulled you in close, chest to back, his arms wrapping around you. His lips found your shoulder, soft kisses peppered along your skin. The only sound was the steady patter of water hitting the floor, mingled with the soft, wet smacks of his lips against you. Every now and then, a quiet moan escaped you, barely loud enough to be heard over the shower, but he heard it. He always did.

His hands felt so large on your frame, they wrapped around your hips again. But instead of staying on your hips, he let one hand travel across your thig until he found your womanhood. You ached for him, the second he touched your throbbing bud, you let out a breathy moan. He held you up again, knowing you’d be weak.

You moaned on and on, crying out Nicholas’ name as your body thrashed in his arms. Your threw your head back into his chest, still whimpering out.

“I know baby, I know,” Nichola cooed to you, “Let it out”.

You obeyed, the pressure in your body built to it’s peak. Nicholas was so incredibly skilled at getting you there, he just understood it. Where to rub, how fast to go, what to say, where to kiss. It’s like he was in your life solely to unlock these parts of you.

As you came down from your unraveling, Nicholas held you, continuing to kiss on your back but he could also feel your knees getting weak. “Oh my poor girl,” Nicholas turned off the water with one hand still holding you up with the other.

He was his concern creeping in again, he rushed to get you in a towel and out of the bathroom so you can go sit on the bed. You sat on th edge of the bed, wrapped in a plush black towel. Nicholas stood in front of you, “I’ll be back,” his demeaner was still calm but you knew was buzzing with a hint of worry inside for you, you were always his priority.

You just finished getting dressed when he returned to the bedroom with his hands full of different things; random serums and moisterizers for your skincare, an ice roller for your face because he knew you liked the sensation switch after a hot shower, your pink freshly filled hyrdroflask, a Frost Blue Artic Gatorade and a few random snacks.

You couldnt help but let out a small laugh, the contrast of this man who a few hours ago had cumming so hard you almost cried and now he was this frantic overprotective boyfriend who couldn’t stand the thought of you not be cared for.

He chuckled back, “What? I wanted to make sure you didnt have to get up for anything else”, he said setting everything down on the bedside table on your side.

His face was near your’s as he dipped down to arrange the items and you stopped him to give him a kiss. It was quick but it had weight to it, you were so appreciative of him. When he settled into his side of the bed, you both sat with your backs on the headboard. He pulled your legs onto his and rubbed yout thighs while the TV droned on the background. You sipped your water from cup and he grabbed your other hand placed soft kisses on it.

It was quiet again, things were light and soft. You love him and he loves you.

[daenysx]

i was thinking of remus and this is how i like to imagine him in a modern au i guess <33 requests are open if you wanna share with me, angels

remus lupin who's a night owl because apparently the silence is perfect for focusing on his books

remus lupin who ate too much chocolate once, he got sick

remus lupin who keeps eating chocolate because you can't possibly think he'll give up on his serotonin source

remus lupin who smokes in the early mornings as he watches sunrise

remus lupin who looks like a literal angel as he leans from window with his soft lips exhaling the smoke

remus lupin who has sensitive hands, he has to apply a hand cream every night to keep them from drying

remus lupin who takes his coffee black with no sugar

remus lupin who sometimes tries special drinks at a cafe (like pumpkin spice latte?) just because james insists

remus lupin who wears oversized sweaters

remus lupin who sleeps naked

remus lupin who likes long cuddling sessions in the morning

remus lupin who loves having his long legs tangled in yours

remus lupin who gives you sleepy kisses on your warm skin

remus lupin who adores counting the marks you left on his neck and chest

remus lupin who is responsible for making coffee in the morning

remus lupin who likes drinking red wine straight from the bottle with you on his bedroom floor in the evenings

remus lupin who gets quiet and cuddly when he's upset

remus lupin who likes getting his hair played with

remus lupin who uses the word 'dove' far too many times in a conversation with you

remus lupin who has classical pieces and rock songs in the same playlist

remus lupin who likes making love to you for hours

remus lupin who also likes getting rough when you're both in the mood

remus lupin who likes putting his head on the crook of your neck

remus lupin who has a messy handwriting

remus lupin who doesn't tidy up his room unless he really has to because he can't seem to find anything without a search party

remus lupin who needs to use reading glasses but he doesn't like the way they sit on his nose so he's being neglectful a lot

remus lupin who likes wearing mismatched socks when he's alone

remus lupin who has a home that smells like old books and orange cookies

remus lupin who eats all the chocolate before every time you try a new recipe just to see you flustered (also because- well, it's chocolate)

remus lupin who trusts james and sirius with his life

remus lupin who still uses wired headphones

remus lupin who likes sleeping with a background music

remus lupin who gives the best back rubs with his huge hands

remus lupin who likes midday naps

remus lupin who gets obsessed with herbal teas once in a while

remus lupin who can watch three movies in a row

remus lupin who has the comfiest couch you've ever seen

remus lupin who keeps you on the couch until you go lax in his arms as he cuddles you like it's his last day on world

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Welcome Home, Kento!

♡ featuring: nanami kento x reader

♡ synopsis: nanami can't wait to return home to his wife and kids. little does he know, there's a lot of love waiting for him behind the door.

♡ wc: 2.4k+

♡ tags: nobara and yuji are your children, fanon, domestic fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, salaryman AU

notes: took a break on the capitano fanfic im working on cause domestic kento got me acting unwell i miss him and need him so bad. canon break but idc nobara and yuji are his kids and no one can tell me otherwise. art by getoad on ig! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

Nanami Kento’s work seemingly never ended.  

Caught between meetings and printer jams, the small talk he endured with simple one-word answers, and the folders piling on his cold metal desk in a cramped cubicle, he was exhausted. Air conditioners blew frigid in the office, making small accidents unbearable. 

The only warmth he experienced throughout his shifts was the art exhibit on the back wall and a wooden frame, sitting not too far from his grasp. Next to the bulky outdated computer was a picture frame of you, sweating radiance despite the fluorescent wall lights, hair disheveled with tired eyes in your hospital gown. You’re holding a newborn Yuji, chubby with a soft hint of pink fuzz on his head. A one-year-old Nobara chose to nestle next to you through the blood and amniotic fluid sticking to your hands. Somehow smiling—blearily, but still smiling so hard your eyes practically close. 

The scene was not pretty; it burned into his memory, committing to the wrinkles in his brain so that he’d never forget your screams and undying strength. Even the grip on his hand, imprinting the wedding band into his skin when you forced a final push. He never averted his gaze, stroking your wet hair and kissing your throbbing temple; if he could alleviate some of your struggle for a moment, share in your pain for a second, he’d do it ten times over. You’re the mother of his children, after all, his wife and soulmate. 

He met you at a small bakery on the corner of a forgotten street after a double shift. Back turning in knots, cranky as ever with permanently furrowed brows. And when he’d order his favorite pastry—a chocolate eclair—only for it to disappear in the hands of another customer, he was downright irritated. Turning to the offender, the kinks in his muscles suddenly melted at the sight of your apologetic smile. Your apology dissipated in his ears, not managing to reach his cognition as he studied your stunning glow in the dim yellow lighting of that cafe.  

Before you could finish your offer to buy him double, his mouth moved ahead of his mind; “Would you like to sit together?” 

That was forever ago, though. Prior to him falling in love, to your laugh breathing life and color into him once again. To you becoming the soul reason he clocked in every day at a dead-end job he settled for. He was putty in the palm of your hand, but could you blame him? You were his salvation from the bitter, grey world he walked alone for years, and now even the sun felt warmer with you around. 

So, when days become thoroughly tedious such as this one, his eyes tend to wander. Once, twice to his watch, then to the countless drawings from Yuji and Nobara stuck to the cubicle. Yuji and Nobara were two sides of the same coin, regardless of the weekly sibling rivalry where he had to stop them from tearing each other’s hair out. Nanami wasn’t a man who chose sides which usually resulted in him taking both drawings from their art competitions, to the dismay of the sore winners. 

The old Nanami Kento would’ve hunched over the desk, mindlessly typing away past his shift ending, until his buzzing lamp was the sole light left in the office. Currently, he was dying to go home, nearly dreaming of seeing your faces, your “welcome home” as he opened the door. His printed tie is lax around his neck, shirt unbuttoned a little too low with an ankle crossed over the other knee, like nothing matters besides holding you at the end of the day. The digital clock rings, breaking him out of a trance and knocking the pen he’d been fumbling with out of his hands. 

Immediately he starts shoving papers in his briefcase, some crumpling and folding at the edges. He throws his suit jacket on, clocks out with the same vigor and heads for the door. 

“Nanami, wait a second!” his boss hollers from his office. He steps out, and Nanami barely spares him a glance.  

“We’re short-staffed right now, I’ll need you to stay behind-” 

“No.” 

His boss stands dumbfounded, and it takes a few business days for him to register that his demand was denied. He brushes his balding combover and clears his throat, “Excuse me?”   

“I’m going home to my wife.” 

“This isn’t up for discussion-” Suddenly, Nanami shoots a glare that stops him dead in his tracks. His legs are glued to the floor, like the senses of prey in proximity to a vulture. He appears to be his standard nonchalance, but with the way his jaw clenched, and his eyes bore through him, perhaps retracting his words was the best decision for his safety. 

“U-understood. Have a good weekend.” 

The city streets are serene following sundown, a calm breeze picking up rustling leaves that began to fall. He checks his watch again; just in time for dinner. He hurries up the townhouse steps of the brick building and clicks his key into the mahogany door. 

“Ahhh!” 

“Yuji, come here!” 

“Wahhh, black flash!” 

All the lights in the living room and kitchen are on, and blankets are thrown haphazardly around the floor. The television plays an obnoxiously loud cartoon, but it’s evident none of them are watching it based on the army of colorful toys piled on the couch, and a suspicious stuffed wolf plush sitting on the stairs with its head lopsided. An odd lone cookie lays half-eaten on the floor, and the kitchen counters are strewn with crumby flour and sticky batter. The faint aroma of something sweet lingers in the entryway. 

The best part is you, his wife, chasing after Yuji and Nobara in his dirty button up teal shirt with the sleeves rolled up. You’re all dripping in water, trailing sodden footprints around the house. Nobara comes around the kitchen island in a bath robe and towel headband, bunny ears bobbing as she drags a leash toy behind her popping plastic balls of rainbow pigments.  

Yuji, on the other hand, is completely naked minus a comical formation of bubbles around his lower half. He’s chasing her with a toy car foaming with soap and it soars in the air as he laughs and chants sound effects, “bam, black flash!”, pretending to launch it at her. The lot of you are circling the kitchen island, chaotic laughing and shrieking as Nobara’s toy bangs into the stools and cabinets. Just then, a wind-up robot taps Nanami’s foot and falls over. 

“Yuji stop chasing her!”  

“Ahhh!” 

“RAHH!” 

He’s never felt more at home in his life. 

He drops his briefcase, shrugs off his jacket and shoes and joins in. Yuji may be able to evade your grasp, but Nanami was an entirely different beast. You finally manage to intercept Nobara and scoop her in your arms, shaggy robe eclipsing her small cherubic pout. Nanami rushes around the corner and snatches Yuji upside-down, tiny damp feet pressed at his chin with his arms dangling in the air. Amid the chaos you hadn't noticed him, but when your kind eyes meet, a bright smile warms his cheeks, like the first time you met—he's smitten all over again.  

“Daddy!” Nobara screams. 

Yuji squeals and struggles wildly in Nanami’s hold. “I win” he declares. 

“Noo you don’t, not fair!” He tries to escape but Nanami has an iron grip, and you place Nobara on the counter while you get Yuji. He passes him off to you, “Sorry, you’re covered in water now.” He tilts your chin and plants a chaste kiss, skimmed traces of yearning. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve been missing you all day.” 

“Really?” He hates when you ask that, because truthfully, he misses you incessantly. It borders on obsession. The second you leave his sight, he’s wondering when you’ll return, if he could go with you, should it be a family outing, should he follow you? He’ll stir in the thoughts that totally encompass you; you, you, you, until you come back to him. 

“Of course, my love.” Yuji grumbles an annoyed noise and tucks his head in your neck. “Trouble in paradise?” he adds, a tinge of sarcasm. You giggle, brushing the drenched strand of hair from your face, “Yuji really fought the bath today.” 

“Black flash!” he yells, firing his baby fist in the air. Nanami makes a feigned noise of pain to throw his head back and clutch his heart. “C’mon now, let’s finish up” you tell him. As you’re dragging him down the hallway to the bathroom, his defiant wails fade to silence. 

Nanami cleans up the disarray with Nobara’s help. She throws the toys in the toybox, a proud look on her face while Nanami stacks the blankets in a lump on the couch and sweeps the crumbs from the floor. He felt a bit guilty putting a damper on the fun, but winding down the kids for bedtime was most important, and Nobara would gladly change into her dinosaur pajamas if that meant she could spend some time with dad.  

Yuji arrives as a tired, messy-haired but less stinky version of himself, wearing an alien onesie. You’d clearly won the great bath war. 

But a growing scent floods the kitchen, mild smoke emitting from the stove skillet. 

The skillet? 

Shit. 

“Ohh, no no no”, you run to grab a spatula and remove the skillet from the burner. The pancake facing you seems unharmed, perfect even with a nice fluffy texture. You fan the smoke away with a kitchen towel and Nanami approaches you. He looms over the pan, “Pancakes?” 

“Yeah, Yuji wanted pancakes and Nobara wanted chicken nuggets. So, we did both” you say, scraping the underside of it. The crackling of something crispy doesn’t do much to ease your doubts. “Looks good to me-” 

You flip the pancake, and it’s fully burnt.  

Solid black with a thin trail of smoke billowing. You both stare at it in silence. Then you look at each other, and Nanami bursts out laughing. Tears collect at his eyes, and he’s doubled over with his head on your shoulder, a hand around your waist. You sigh in defeat, “Does it still look good to you?” 

“I’ll eat it if it makes you happy.” 

“I’m not trying to kill my husband.” He hums and kisses your cheek. “I’m sorry, I tried to have dinner ready for when you got home. Lost track of time.” 

The last thing he’d want is for you to feel bad about such trivial matters. He hugs you from behind, whispering in your ear, “Don’t worry, it’s enough. Everything you do is enough.” Yuji abruptly hits his leg, and he peers down. “I wanna hug mommy too!” 

“Get in line. She’s my mommy right now” he teases. You giggle when Yuji tries to wedge between your bodies, and Nanami holds his head back like a bull charging at a fence. 

When they’re done eating their chicken nuggets, and he convinces Yuji that celery tastes better than pancakes, you snuggle up for the night. Weekends lasted later into the night, but regardless they had to stay on schedule. It was his favorite part of the week, where you dimmed the lights, he lit the fireplace and crowded on the floor of a striped blanket fort in the middle of the living room. Yuji rested his head on a pillow with his favorite wolf plush while Nobara laid on your stomach. 

“In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf” you start, holding the book with one hand. Nanami always opts to sit outside of the fort. One, because he’s too tall for it. And two, he likes to see your face reading peacefully in the rare tranquility of a hissing fireplace. You were so gentle and nurturing that at times he found it hard to pull himself away from your face, sinking in pure adoration. 

“One Sunday morning the warm sun came up and”, you wind up your hand and tickle Nobara. “Pop! —out of the egg came a tiny and very. Hungry. Caterpillar.” You tap her nose in line with the words.  

Nanami understood why the kids enjoyed your story time over his monotone one. He couldn’t get past the first page before Yuji started to complain and Nobara began to space out. “He started to look for some food” you dance your fingers down her spine like a caterpillar would, and she faintly smiles. 

Yuji normally falls asleep first, snoring like a grown man as he drools into the pillow. Then Nobara will drift quietly, to the point where you barely realize she’s dreaming. Then you, fighting sleep as you gaze up at Nanami, forcing yourself to make conversation in a half-groggy state. Your hair is jumbled and the shirt you stole from the hamper bunches at your waist. Here, he feels fulfilled. Irrevocably whole. 

“How was your day, sweetheart?” you drawl. His heart flutters at the pet name, caressing your face with his thumb. “The usual” he replies, just as soft and tender, “it felt longer today.” 

“Mm? Why?” He picks up on a croak in your voice, a sign you’ll be sleeping soon. “I couldn’t wait to come home.” 

A pleased noise rumbles at the back of your throat. “Let’s go to the beach. It’ll get too cold soon.” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Mhm”, you run your hand over his, leaning into his touch, “maybe we could invite Gojo and his kids.” 

“Hell no, that guy’s a nutcase.” You laugh, hushed and weak. He kisses your forehead. “Goodnight, my love.”  

“No, I’m not sleeping yet” you groan in spite of closing your eyes. “Then what are you doing, right now?” 

“Mm. Just resting them.”  

He smirks, aware of what happens right after that. He kisses your nose, then your velvety lips. He can’t shake the fact that he’d found someone like you, someone who’d love him unconditionally, accept his flaws and dry humor and stand by his side under any circumstances. It almost felt undeserved, like that bakery incident should’ve earned him a slap to the face instead of your sweet nature, swelling his heart and pulling him deeper. His only treasures, laid in front of him in a cozy cuddle pile.  

Before he could get up to turn the lights off, a soothing utterance of your voice, words he’d been waiting for since he opened the door. 

“Welcome home, Kento.” 

© mooishbeam - please don't steal, copy, or post my work to other platforms :)

[moonstruckme]

Ik you're probably busy rn and you don't have to write this ir you don't wanna-

So remus with. Sensitive reader? Like i, personally, get teary any time someone yells at me or is angry ot condescending and i feel like even though Remus is th sweetest person ever when it comes to scolding, being reprimanded by my favourite person would so make me cry.

And we all know that Remus can get abit hot headed around the full moon so maybe smth along hurt/comfort w that ❤️

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: weed, mention of vomit (no description of any kind, just a brief reference)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 755 words

You steal the blunt from between Remus’ lips, holding out your bag of crisps as a trade. 

He accepts, side-eyeing you in a way you choose to interpret as playful. Although you know the days leading up to the full moon are hell for Remus, neither of you mind this part so much. You’d prepared last weekend, stocking your shared flat with lavish quantities of chocolate and weed which you allow yourself to sample as payment for your efforts and general good-girlfriend standing. You think you’ve done a decent job; your boyfriend is lax on the couch next to you, the space between his brows wonderfully smooth and free of the wrinkles that accrue there when he’s having one of his migraines. 

“Alright, you’re done after that,” he says as you inhale.

“What?” You let your mouth drop open in faux indignation, a giggle building in your chest. “No fair.” 

“Mhm.” He crunches noisily on a crisp, mindless of your pouting. “You’ve had enough, dove.” 

“Fine."

He leans forward for the blunt and you hold it for him as wraps his lips around it, exhaling the smoke with an insouciant expertise. He reaches forward to take it from between your fingers, but you move quickly, leaning away from his reach to take a swift hit. You imagine the smoke curling and winding in your lungs as you suck in a great breath. You blow it out the corner of your mouth, your lips twisting into a grin. 

Remus isn’t smiling. 

“Are you serious?”

His tone is incredulous, and your giggly high fades as you realize he’s not joking. 

“I just said you’ve had enough,” he fumes, snatching the blunt from you and squashing it into the ashtray on the coffee table. “Are you trying to green out? Because I’m not in the mood to clean up your vomit.”

Your mouth has gone dry. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Remus huffs, closing his eyes and tilting his head towards the ceiling. Your face burns. He’s exhausted with you.

“Why would you do that?” he asks, and though his tone has cooled slightly, the exasperation is almost worse.

“I don’t know,” you say. Your voice comes out squeaky and wrong. “I’m really sorry.” 

He looks over at you, some of the storminess clearing from his expression. 

“I thought we were playing, I—I wasn’t trying to—“ You take a shuddering breath, trying to keep the wetness in your eyes from escaping. “I won’t throw up, I promise.” 

“Hey.” He sounds almost confused, but it morphs quickly into alarm when you blink and a tear skids down your face. “Hey, don’t cry.” 

“I’m sorry.” You push your fingertips into your eyes as if you can forcibly dam the flow. Your skin is hot to the touch. “I’m not trying to.” 

“Dove, come on.” Remus’ hands encircle your wrists. He pulls them towards him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh.” 

“No, you’re right.” Your voice quavers. “I wasn’t taking you seriously.” 

“I didn’t need to be stern with you,” he says, tone firm but soft as he raises your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. “It was a misunderstanding. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that.” 

You press your lips together, unsure how to respond but resolute on stopping your tears. 

Remus frowns. He sets your hands down carefully, using his thumbs to soothe over the hot tracks on your cheeks. 

“Sirius always says I get bitchy this time of the month,” he murmurs. A little laugh startles out of you, and he grins. You get the sense that was his aim. “Thank you for dealing with me when I get like this.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “I know you don’t have to, and I appreciate it. I’ll try to keep a better leash on my temper.” 

“I always want to deal with you,” you laugh, following it with a sniffle. “I think I need to keep a better leash on my delicate sensibilities.” 

“I love your sensibilities,” Remus argues. He mushes your face affectionately between his hands. “I’m sorry for scolding you, sweetheart. Do you feel sick?” 

You take hasty stock of yourself. You’ve definitely reached the point just past too much, but you’ll be okay. “Nope,” you report back happily. “But I do feel like I’d like some snacks, please.” 

Remus passes you the bag of crisps, then some chocolates, then a tin of biscuits. And you feast on kisses for the rest of the night.

[beatersteeleblippoedition]

pov: you just took a shit in his notebook

no more toilet paper.. :(

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

where are you buying poptarts in Wales

The American Shop on Swansea High Street that's definitely a front for organised crime. It's a poisoned chalice, though. If you get pop tarts from a supermarket, they're made to UK standard, i.e. not full of laxative corn syrup, BUT they're only available in either chocolate or strawberry aka the most boring flavours. And they're about £2.50 a box.

If you go to a definitely-not-a-front shop, though, you get the Forbidden Flavours, like they sold in the UK in the 90s. As a kid I loved chocomallow, which the Americans know as S'mores. Also they have wild flavours that aren't really flavours, like birthday cake. BUT they contain constipation-be-gone ingredients and also cost £5.50 a box.

This last point is particularly interesting, because the American Shop still sells chocolate and strawberry flavours. Which means, if you want, you can pay double the price for a bland and easily obtainable elsewhere flavour that makes you shit yourself.

But it doesn't actually have to make sense, because it's a front.

[mischiefmaker615]

Intoxicated

Summary: Sex Pollen! (based off my Gif Skit)

Inspiration Song: "Nashe si chadh gyi" by Arijit Singh (song had to be translated) 

Requester: @GloriousLoki666 (wattpad)

Rating: R 

Note: been awhile since i wrote another sex pollen one shot Lol This was my FIRST

Loki held his breath while the tips of his fingers assured the bowl was set down without a sound. His eyes flicked once again towards the door- no sign of Y/N. finally being able to relax, he smiled down at the plate of chocolate chip cookies and knew the only thing left to do now, was wait.

Luckily, Y/N and Loki were the only ones in the tower for the day, so mistakenly pranking anyone but her was nearly impossible. It has been like this for weeks, both bickering and throwing dry comments at each other before the insults slowly evolved to more physical action.

Pranks. Cruel ones at that, and this time it was Loki’s turn for revenge.

Having to buy the cookies from the store- due to the fact that he was still learning how to make things himself- it also assured Y/N that there was nothing tampered with so she’s just have to eat one. Or so she thought.. magic was helpful when it came to avoiding hands on methods so a simple enchantment had been in order.

Simply consuming a single cookie would send her into a sexual overdrive, making her have to pleasure herself for about 24 hours straight to be sated. It had been merely an equal punishment he chose out when she had made many jokes about his sex drive in front of the team, making them think he couldn’t win over a woman and relied upon his hand half the time. Well she’d have to do just that for how she tried to humiliate him..

With a smirk, Loki turned to leave only to find Y/N herself scampering into the kitchen for her usual ‘sweet tooth’ o’clock time ritual, as she called it- basically looking for something sweet in between responsibilities she was stuck with around here.

Casting a glance over at him, Loki busied himself in the fridge, looking as distracted and disinterested as he could while he hoped she would notice the plate on the island counter.

‘’Thor went shopping again?” she asked, glancing at the plate while Loki looked over his shoulder, pretending to notice them himself with a raised brow.

‘’perhaps, or perhaps I made them.’’

‘’you made them?” she asked with a hidden scoff, closing the cabinet to fully turn around and inspect the cookies on the plate.

‘’indeed darling, I’ve been brushing up on my Midgardian skills around here and figured it might be best to offer it as a.. truce.’’ He told her gently, closing the fridge to turn to her, resting his palms upon the counter across from her while the plate sat in between them.

Y/N looked at him again skeptically before she dropped her gaze at the cookies, inspecting it as if it were a bug that shouldn’t be there. While distracted, Loki found his own eyes taking in her attire- she took advantage of the cozy work quarters of the tower and opted to where an oversized hoodie and shorts. Her hair was a bit messy, indicating she had been working for quite a while- laying on her tummy in bed no doubt, as he’s caught her many times. The brief feeling of movement in his groin at the thought had his brow raising and his eyes moving to see if it were possible before her words snapped him out of the impossible.

‘’bullshit.’’

‘’excuse me?” he said almost offended.

‘’I want to call bullshit, you might as well have put laxatives or something in there. unless of course.. you have a bite.’’ She said calmly, looking up at him with a challenged look in which he straightened and took personally.

Pranking was a delicate business and any sere hesitation could give away his position to make it real. As a slight amount of panic set in, he also told himself that with the amount of sex pollen he had put in for her body weight, couldn’t possibly be enough to affect his Asgardian form. So, taking hold of one between his thumb and pointing finger, his eyes made eye contact with her while he raised it to his lips.

His expression was unreadable yet his eyes held the same amount of challenge in her own while he bites down on a decent yet small bite. Not once breaking eye contact, he let a small smirk show while he chewed before he waved a hand at the rest of the plate. ‘’fair, darling?”

Her own lips pulled to a smirk and she shrugged, walking past him while her arm grazed his own briefly while he turned to watch her walk away. ‘’not hungry, maybe later.’’

His eyes glared at her while she walked away, finding his gaze slowly move down to her swaying hips while he tried to focus on hating her. with a tiny sigh, he looked back at the plate to debate on throwing them out before her scent seemed to catch his attention. Turning back around as if to find her coming back, he didn’t find her there. The sound of her door shut down the hall while he was left inhaling deeply with his eyes fluttering closed.

‘gods.. did she always smell like that?’ he thought, his body tensing to feel another twitch come from his cock and he dropped his eyes to it through the pants. Slight panic squeezed his chest while his eyes rounded and rose towards the halls.

‘oh.. Norns..’

~ 3o minutes.. 30 minutes and still no relief. He had been at it none stop and slumped panting against his door while his hand dropped to his side in defeat. How much had he enchanted it with? Surely not a lot.. it should have only been mild with her mortal body in consideration.. he was a god! It should have barely got him aroused!

His eyes closed with furrowed brows while another wave of arousal hit him. his body tensed and he could feel more beads of sweat come to his temples while his shirt stayed unbuttoned with the prayer of perhaps the AC finally turning on. He was practically raw and sore and nothing he had thought of had worked. He even tried several enchantments but the issue at hand made concentrating difficult.

The worse part is, he could still smell her..

He probably could have suffered an hour of this than find himself at her door. It be to humiliating and would only provide her more content to tease him more. Yet 24 hours would nearly kill a person, him anyway for despite her constant teasing involving a lacking partner, his libido was very much high at all times.

It was hard to find ones willing when all the saw was ‘the destroyer of New York’ first.

After the last 30 minutes of debating, he knew this hour had been the worst in his life and it was not going to get any easier the more time passed. In fact, sex pollen normally worsened the more one waited and didn’t leave the victim a pretty sight if they didn’t get relief.

Growling, he finally put himself away and straightened himself out, pausing now and again to regain his body once another wave hit before he could continue. He wasn’t even sure what he was wanting to ask her while he stood at her door and his hand hesitated to knock while his body buzzed. He had been severely aroused by the mere scent of her, she was most likely the one who’d be able to cure him.. theoretically.

With a gentle knock he almost regretted, the door opened to find Y/N with a surprised look and a step back.

‘’..you don’t look well..’’ she told him, quickly giving him a look over.

‘’I need your assistance.’’ He mumbled, looking literally anywhere else but her.

‘’the medicine is behind the mirror in the bathr-‘’

‘’not- like that.. I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that..’’ Loki sighed, keeping his arms crossed while he shifted uncomfortably for more matters than one. By her silence, his eyes dared to look at hers just to find them quickly switching up from where they most likely had been staring at but she regardless stepped aside and let him in.

Stepping inside, he closed his eyes to make explaining a bit easier while she shut the door behind him. even with her behind, it was as if she were right in front with her scent more intoxicating as ever. His lips parted, trying to find words but had to take a moment to regain himself while he turned to look at her with guilt.

‘’..I may have placed a dose of sex pollen into the dessert from earlier in hopes you would consume one as revenge from your sexual remarks the other day. I wasn’t aware a bite would affect me and this.. issue will only subside after at least 24 hours. Nothing I have been doing has been successful at fixing it but the spell indicates that the one whom the victim favors could.. rid of it faster.’’

Loki’s eyes rounded a little, stopping short after hearing himself through his rant. Did he just confess? By her own rounded eyes, it would appear that he did while she stared at him in shock and parted lips. The silence made him shift a little, causing her to indeed switch her eyes down to the evidence he had in his pants and another wave of arousal came over him. taking a step back, he hunched a little while drawing in a sharp breath, looking timidly at her while her eyes seemed to harden and her arms moved to cross over her chest.

‘’after all this time... after all this time of your insistent torment and teasing.. you suddenly come to me for help??’’

His eyes lowered with guilt while his voice began to sound horse with strain, fists clenching at his sides while he made sure to keep looking at her. ‘’..this is important-‘’

‘’then make it important.’’ She snapped, eyes narrowing while she held on to the audacity of him actually trying to sex poison her. ‘’you got yourself into this mess, how exactly are you going to fix it-‘’

‘’I know you’ve endured a lot and that is my fault-‘’ a slight groan left his lips while his eyes closed tight, slowly causing him to sink to his knees in front of her while he sucked in a breath and kept his hands in his lap to at least try to conceal the obvious.

Her eyes seemed to have less hate towards him while they followed him down, clearly seeing him in pain while she hugged her arms and held her breath.

‘’but.. but I'll make it up to you.. all of it just- please.. I need your help..’’ he said with a low voice, exhaustion washing over his body while he shifted on his knees again at the pressure.

The sight of a knee in front of him had his eyes raise to find her kneeling in front of him, eyes looking almost out of pity and hidden amusement- which almost seemed to be just as bad as hate while he held his tongue and watched her. ‘’karma is a bitch, isn't it?’’

His jaw tightened and he knew she was going to take advantage of this- half debating on just taking the left over 24 hours to avoid this humiliation if walking didn’t seem impossible right now. ‘’..it is..’’ he ground out.

‘’and what have we learned?” she asked, almost to innocently while her other knee joined the floor and her hands rested on her thighs to mirror his position.

His eyes seemed to study her, cruelty and all. She was intoxicating, how mischief seemed to mask his own and he almost wanted to laugh at the end of all this on how it backfired on him. despite their sarcasm, he almost found himself looking forward to their bickering and debates, her facial expressions that changed and her hip sways she offered while walking away from her own deliverance. Even now by the mere memories, he had to stop himself from leaning forward right then and there while his nails dug into his palms by her scent.

‘’..a prank will sometimes backfire..’’

‘’what else?” she asked, her voice seeming to drop lower to a whisper while her eyes studied him.

‘’...to never get the pollen involved specifically..’’ he grumbled, knowing she was relishing his state yet she hinted with a promise at the end of all this, so he stayed put in his submissive position.

Y/N nodded by his answer, a slow hand reaching out to be placed against his manhood, making his eyes slowly close with almost a relived breath by her simple action. ‘’and thus, we have a.. big problem..’’

If his eyes hadn’t been closed, he would have seen her shocked gaze upon her discovery of his size. Her eyes dropped down while her hand began to paw at him, making him tense and shiver while he drew in another sharp breath.

‘’yes..’’ he answered, not exactly sure of the question anymore as soon as he felt her hand press against his chest and push him down onto his back. His palms flattened against the soft carpet below him while his eyes fluttered open at the sound of his zipper.

‘’I like you to Loki, and despite our ways and differences.. I’m glad you came to me for help..’’ she whispered, honesty surprising him while he raised his head and propped himself up on his elbows while she worked at freeing his erection.

‘’you do?-‘’ he nearly groaned while she wrapped her hand around him, his eyes falling closed while her eyes took in the mere size of him.

‘’I do.. even if you’re a pain in the ass sometimes..’’ she smiled a little and bit her bottom lip while her eyes dropped to watch what she was doing eagerly.

‘’I could be,’’ he offered with a teasing smirk, having her hold in a small laugh before she began to gently stoke him and immediately shut him up.

He slowly moved back onto the carpet, his fingers hitting the floor at his sides and curling into the fabric while her hand moved smooth and steady around him. ‘’fuck..’’ he moaned out, his voice breathy while he could already feel relief beginning to wash over him.

She couldn’t help but smile while she watched his beautiful face contort and his body squirm now and again. It was almost like a sense of power, being able to make a god crumble by merely her hand and it only urged her to stroke him faster. She could feel her own arousal hint between her legs, causing her thighs to press together while her thumb now and again ran against the tip and spread his pre-cum more onto his cock.

‘’gods Y/N.. you’re.. ‘’ he shuddered and felt his hips buck up into her hand now and again while he couldn’t even finish his sentence. She was amazing, skilled and beautiful in every which way. Even through the trials and turmoil she was still willing to help him. he even began to wonder when her attraction began towards him but he’d have to ask later.

‘’you’re so big..’’ she breathed, her inner thought speaking out loud while she still tried to believe what she was holding. Without missing a beat, she granted her wants and lowered her mouth onto his tip, flicking her tongue against him and earned a colorful curse word from Loki while he moaned his name.

‘’you feel amazing darling..’’ he breathed, a hand slowly moving to rest against her head, allowing her to set the pace but his fingers began to automatically curse into her silky hair.

She let out a hum, sending vibrations through him in which he bucked up again, making her move her other hand to his hip to try to keep him down while the other continued to pump him. now her mouth began to lower, sucking and licking at what she could take in while her hand covered the rest.

Old Norse language seemed to slip from Loki’s mouth, whispers and broken sentences while his brows furrowed and his body tensed. ‘’I’m almost t-there Y/N.. please- fuck..’’ he moaned, tightening his hold on her hair while he restrained himself from pushing her down.

Moving even faster, a moan left her own mouth while she stroked and sucked. There was a lot to work with and her thighs shifted frequently to relieve some of the pressure of her own between them until he felt his hand pushing her more down onto him.

‘’fuck- Y/N!” he moaned a curse, her name like music on his lips while he felt his orgasm crash and his hips bucked up into her on their own accord.

She eagerly drank him, gripping his hips tightly with both hands while she stayed where he had her. her legs shook and her eyes looked up at him as if she were drunk and pleased. Panting, he felt a tired grin tug his lips while he slowly let go of her hair and stroked her head, his hand falling down to caress her cheek before he felt himself soften a bit and she released him from his mouth.

His head laid down with exhaustion, relief enveloping him while he took in a deep breath and his body relaxed. ‘’thank you.. Y/N..’’ he said quietly while he felt her crawl up his body to straddle his mid-section, hands at his chest while she looked down at him with a pleased smile.

‘’were you really not hungry?” he asked with a small grin, hands coming to rest at her hips while she shook her head, remembering the cookies.

‘’I knew there was something up with them as soon as I saw them. The best part about baking, is the fresh smell it leaves and there was nothing to be found in the entire tower. So store buying them was the first hint, and knowing you, there had to be something else.’’

Loki hummed at his mistakes, wanting to kick himself for it if he didn’t feel himself getting hard again with her on top. This time it didn’t hurt and from her rosy cheeks, he knew she had noticed as well.

‘’you weren’t joking about your libido..’’ she teased, biting her bottom lip while she began to tease him with the rock of her hips and his lips tugged into a smirk at what she said next.

‘’I got something you could eat..’’

DM a song and/or Loki Gif for your own Musical Mischief one shot and/or Gif Skit :D

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life @jadekillian

[s0fter-sin]

nikolai hunting ghost down whenever they're on the same base and plucking him from whatever duties he has to whisk him away somewhere private. he has no authority, nothing more than his reputation as a rogue pilot with a few screws loose, but the way he fearlessly manhandles the ghost has people ducking out of his way anyway

behind a locked door, he offers ghost the choice of either curling up at his feet or sitting pliant in his lap, his full weight against him with his head lax on his shoulder; warm, comfortable, boneless

he then tucks his mask up above his lips and plies him with fruit and sweets; things he'd never buy for himself, indulgences he’d never entertain, wasted on a hollow shell like him

but nikolai? oh, he knows how much he deserves them; these precious moments of peace where the only thing ghost exists for is the next delicious bite

he feeds them to him one by one; thumbing strawberry juice and powdered sugar from his lips, humming in pure pleasure as he sucks it away, and smiles at ghost’s involuntary shivers when he feeds him his favourites. ghost doesn't even know what most of the sweets even are; what they’re made of or even what country nikolai buys them from. he just knows he loves them; loves the chase of nikolai’s fingers on his tongue after each one even more

nikolai always brings plenty for him, always draws it out, wanting these rare breaths of contentment to last for ghost’s sake as much as his own; offering plump bites of tart, homemade treats, letting rich chocolate melt between his fingers so it's soft in his mouth and watches his eyes flutter shut as he savours it

decadence incarnate; slow taught and hard won

ghost licks the dregs from his fingers and suckles them long after they're clean; the thought of an empty mouth so wrong to his sweet-clouded mind. nikolai coos in russian down at him, brushing his fingers through his hair as he holds him close, but he's too far away to take in any of it; the only thing holding him in the present the sugared fingers held gently in his mouth

after all, nikolai's always been his favourite sweet

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (11/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“Ya sure y’er an Omega?” He’s sniffing at your neck, his nose directly against where the ‘scent glands’ are meant to be as you spread your arms out, chin tilted up and slumping your shoulder a little more to give him better access. “Maybe the paper’s wrong, cause,”

Another deep inhale.

“You don’t smell like anything.” You hear several more, purposefully loud breaths in, maybe a nudge of your arm and Gojo Satoru’s hand patting your shoulder before his head is lifted off and away.

“Then I guess Mama was right about the medicine working.” You perk up, satisfied with the result as you nod to yourself, proud hands on your hips as you stand before your friends.

(All 3 of them failed to smell anything. Well… Other than Shoko saying that you smelled like pretty laundry detergent.)

“If it’s working right, then Mama’s got nothing to worry about anymore!” Your cheers settle when you plop down next to a contemplating Suguru, opening your mouth and letting him feed you another cracker as you hum in delight.

“Then she’ll let me go and hang out with you all more often.”

Your Mama has been awfully protective for a while… No, you’re pretty sure she’s been extra protective ever since those test results were confirmed. So many trips to go see Dr. Homura, so many times they had to poke those needles into your arm, so many times you had to suck it up and drink yucky stuff in cups; before it switched over to swallowing pills.

(At least Dr. Homura isn’t stingy when it comes to treats. You’ve collected at least 4 different full-sized chocolate bars from her… And some smaller snacks from all the hospital staff who cooed at how cute you were.)

Alas, you don’t think you mind… Not all that much with the changes in your life, anyway. It must come with the responsibilities of being 12.

“Your neck needs to be covered.” Mama’s hands are gentle when she tugs your sweater up, fastening the button tightly and double checking that it was on securely as she readjusts it— For probably the nth time as you stood waiting by the front door for her to finish.

(It was in the middle of summer, but you’re willing to wear anything your Mama picks out for you.)

“…no. I can’t let you go swimming today.” Your eyes are downcast as your hopeful smile slowly fades, the brochure you were holding up in your hands slowly retracting alongside all your dreams of being able to cool down in this hot summer alongside your friends. You guess you won’t be able to check off the pool in Saya-chan’s ‘Ultimate Summer Planning!’ guide.

Mama’s touch is always soft. Delicate and always careful when she holds you close and hugs you tight late into the night. “You can’t tell anyone, okay?” Her eyes are serious as she holds your hand, only the whirring of the fan and the rustling of your soft futon heard alongside her quiet voice on this cool summer night.

“They don’t need to know.”

“Why’s your mama so worried anyway?” Shoko’s head is tilted to the side as she munches on another chip, a hand underneath cupping her chin as she stares at you, brown eyes lax and— Concentrated. “You have us around.”

“The dangers of being an Omega! Saya-san, have you ever experienced anything as scary as our viewer did?” The man— You don’t remember his name, but the funny glasses he wears, the slightly oversized suit he dons with that familiar label… That’s the new host of your favourite news talkshow, you’re pretty sure.

(And Saya-chan was as pretty as ever today.)

“My! It’s quite hard to say nowadays since my agency always provides me with plenty of bodyguards whenever I go outside.” She’s gentle when she laughs, demure with a hand over her mouth— The epitome of your perfect Saya-chan.

“Oh wow! What a protective bunch, eh?” He laughs too loudly, eyes crinkled too much and voice too rough for your liking. “Say, Saya-san, as one of the most sought after Omegas in the industry, do you think your fame was attributed solely because of your secondary gender?”

Hmph. What a rude man. You cross your arms and pout at the screen, clearly angry and glaring at the camera that had now panned towards his face. The last host was definitely more polite than he will ever be, and definitely 100 times better than he is, given the sudden quiet atmosphere.

“Ahaha, Yoshida-san…”

“I mean, come on! You’re a gorgeous woman Saya-san, and being an Omega on top of that! It’s almost like the system is working out a little too perfectly for you!”

You will never understand how some people can be so utterly, shamelessly rude.

“I think Mama’s just being cautious. She likes to prevent lots of stuff before something bad happens, you know?” Like how she spots dark clouds in the skies and rushes out to collect the laundry before even a speck of rain hits the ground, how she always warns you about your sugar intake— Before inevitably taking most of your sweets away before you get a cavity.

(Prevention is always better than cure. A hard lesson you finally understood when you got sick all those years back and missed out on one of the most important sport festivals ever.)

“Your mama’s right though,” Suguru pats your shoulder to make you turn your face, a cracker hovering near your mouth as you cheerfully; obediently part your lips to be fed another.

“It isn’t a bad thing to be too careful.”

——

“So? How much?” His foot is tapping against the ground, his lips humming dismissively as he writes a couple more ‘0’s at the back of the already too large number with his unsharpened pencil. “It’s still not a lot, but you usually give in by now cause ya get so stressed at the amount.”

It was just an accidental throwaway, something that left your head on a whim through the mishandling of the craft scissors.

“Ah.” It nicks you, an open cut right upon your finger as you stare on, not quite fully registering the pain as you watch beads of red coalesce. It stings slightly, makes you flinch back when you finally register that this was supposed to hurt— And that you should not be debating which ones of your funky bandaids would look nice on it.

You know this. It was like that scene in the drama that plays just before the daily nighttime reports, just like that one scene when the main character gets a ‘life threatening, disfiguring’ injury upon their beautiful face— They’d say their one line as tragic music plays and the director cuts to an angle that made the ‘loss’ of their still very apparent beauty all the more dramatic.

“Now nobody will ever marry me!”

(You always wanted to say that, really. So dramatic, so flamboyant…)

Just that you said it with a lot less emotion, no tears, a lot less actorly and as a quiet whisper underneath your breath and solely for your own amusement.

You didn’t think that anyone would actually hear your silly little scene.

“I’d marry you.” His eyes are already meeting yours, the shine in his azure gaze something so clear, so much so that you aren’t unfamiliar with what you’re looking at as face off against full-on seriousness and feel an undeniable, unshaken will.

And that honestly gave you more questions than why they don’t try to disfigure the pretty actors enough for them to actually look like they had something actually terrible to them. Mama was right about drama quality going down these days.

(So what’s a little challenge to your ever all-knowing Satoru?)

“What if I had acid burn off all my skin and I become a zombie?” Your arms cross and press against yourself just in case, hugging and patting against skin that you hoped would stay on for a long, long time. It sounds painful to even imagine losing it.

“I’d get someone to reverse curse technique your skin back on.” He huffs as if you were stupid, his cheeks puffed up momentarily and his eyes glaring, as if annoyed at your question.

(How dare you try to question him?)

“What if I lost both my eyes and can’t see?” It’s honestly a real fear of yours. You quite like your eyes— Quite like being able to sit and quietly admire your friends, your Mama, the people around you… Especially when they think you aren’t looking.

“Duh. Whaddya think my technique’s called Six Eyes for? I can see more than enough for the both of us, dummy.”

(Makes sense. Satoru really is smart.)

“What if I wanted a lot, a lot, a lot of money and it’s more than you can afford?” Because… Do rich people ever run out of money? Maybe you’ve just been watching too many news reports about million, billion, trillionaires losing their fortunes after being outed for fraud.

(Maybe you have been watching too much television. At least you learned that you should ‘freeze your assets’. If your freezer can even hold all your savings, anyway.)

One blink. Maybe two. You see him think about it momentarily, a hand on his chin contemplating your words… Before he grins again, his brows quirked up in amusement and his voice dripping with the ego that he had always possessed.

“I’d laugh cause y’er too smart to think that would actually ever happen.” He even ends haughtily, all smug grin and crossed arms, narrowed eyes and simply radiating confidence that nobody would dare to trump.

“But if it’s money ya want, how much? I can probably give ya enough to make you be my friend forever.”

(He’s Gojo Satoru, after all. Who exactly did you think you were talking to?)

“Don’t ever let anyone buy you over to marry you.” Suguru holds both of your hands in his— Or was it more accurate to say that he gripped them tight; squeezed them with an affirmation paired with a look so serious? Regardless of it, he was so gentle, so soft. Your Suguru is always so lovely. “You deserve more than that.”

(“And definitely more than that greedy vacuum.”)

“Hey! Don’t listen to the guy with Weird Bangs! He looks shady for a good reason!”

“Don’t listen to the ugly snowman with no morals!”

——

Ieiri Shoko thinks she enjoys her elementary school life, no matter how rundown, not at all high class, near peasant-level her school looked and felt. No matter how childish she thinks the sailor uniform was, no matter how this new school’s cafeteria’s food tasted.

It was almost pitiful, makes her think that she had picked the wrong choice, given that this was her second public school and it was all still so… Plain.

The teachers are average. Painfully average. Skills, materials, passion— It was all very lacking, always left her expecting more. Wasn’t it odd? Wasn’t it off? That someone of her caliber, that her, an Ieiri, was attending a public middle school?

She wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for how almost the entirety of high-society Jujutsu families whispering about how a Gojo chose to attend public school.

Muttering under their breaths about how it was preposterous, about how inappropriate for someone of their social standings to be delegated to some no-name brand of a school. A school that was painfully ordinary, at that.

Perhaps that was the pushing point. The fact that Gojo Satoru’s actions got under their skin, pricked at their painfully boring thoughts and pierced through their closed-off mentality that Ieiri Shoko decided… That it sounded fun.

And that was all, really. She’s lucky her parents don’t care too much, lucky that she could ask for whatever and get it placed into her open palm with just a single request. Especially when that request was to transfer to the same elementary school as her once-almost-fiancé, Gojo Satoru.

(Who would deny it? Perhaps her parents even thought that she finally had an interest in the snowy-haired prodigy.

Ha. Not even in a million years.)

Of course, the plan was to just have a little look-see and tour this unfortunate looking place that the spoiled Gojo kid found so interesting.

She didn’t expect to find that she actually enjoyed her time here, not when she was actively swatting off the pesky flies that tried to bother her short little respite here.

Here. As in, the back of the classroom where she could read all the manga she could to her liking— Because who wouldn’t like this breathing space away from stuck-up tutors and high-strung educators who were needlessly strict?

She wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone. Not that she wanted to anyway, but it makes her feel better to at least think like she was actually trying.

…so what exactly was she doing here with you, the one directly connected to the boy she just couldn’t stand?

“And this is the playground! Satoru doesn’t like strangers here, but you don’t count cause he already knows you.” You’re… Touching her. Holding her hand like it was nothing as you pointed at the most obvious playground equipment anybody would know the names of.

It’s stupid.

“I like to c’mere a lot to think by myself.” You hum, settled comfortably on top of the slide as you lean back, your knees to your chest as you close your eyes and enjoy the summer breeze. “Especially nowadays when Satoru’s too busy with some stuff and Suguru’s got martial arts club.”

Weird. You’re weird. Don’t you know that both of them are very obviously cursed technique users? Does she have to spell it out for you? Why are they even—

“So I hope you don’t mind hanging out with me, Ieiri-san.” The sunlight catches in your eyes, your skin warmed by light rays that made you look like you were glittering under the setting sun’s orange glow. “I’m happy that you even want to talk to me.”

Yet, she thinks that it might not be so bad after-all, not when you’re sleeping on her lap, your head positioned on her thighs and her hand in your hair upon this familiar, very expensive wooden bench— That she got her maids to put pillows on.

(Just to outdo Gojo Satoru. Nothing else, really.)

“She looks comfortable.” Geto Suguru is sat close. Right by your other side as you continued to sleep, your breaths quiet and your eyes closed in such undisturbed serenity that it just felt wrong to wake you.

“That’s cause she is.”

“She could’ve slept on my shoulder.” It’s out as an almost huff, another flip of the page of the book he was reading as all of you sit together in serene peace.

“But she chose mine.” It satisfies her to know that she’s got the upper hand in this situation, that she has an advantage over the boy whose emotions she can never properly discern.

“It was just the angle, Ieiri.” Suguru huffs, eyes flippantly glaring at the words of the book he was meant to be reading— Before they met smug coffee-brown. “You don’t have to look that proud.”

“Sad that you weren’t the 1st pick?”

“You wish.”

Ieiri Shoko wouldn’t say that there was nothing between her and the other… Commoner. Wouldn’t say that she disliked or liked him just yet, for even she was confused on how a bond somehow ended up forming between them despite him, Geto Suguru not being up to par in terms of family standing or wealth.

(But with that cursed technique and natural talent for Jujutsu… No wonder he too took the Jujutsu society by storm, especially when it was discovered that the Gojo family had started training him.)

It was a solidarity formed simply by them being the sanest ones out of your little quadruple. Well, sane and actually cohesive when he was separated from the Gojo menace, anyway. Don’t get her wrong, you were cute, even had a good head on your shoulders— But you were far too easily swayed when it came to your friends.

It was almost scary how trusting you were of them.

“…if I ate it, I’ll really get better at using cursed energy…?” You’re staring at the green pepper clasped in between his chopsticks, hands subconsciously clasped over your mouth in protective defense as you watch the utensil hover near you.

And Geto Suguru was just far too practiced for you. A soft smile, his pretty purple eyes hidden behind upturned eyelids, head tilted so innocently to the side with his hair gently swishing along and exuding an air far too mellow for this situation.

“That’s right.”

(And Ieiri Shoko thinks that you’re kinda dumb, honestly. If being dumb in a good way existed, anyway.)

Maybe, only when the pinks and oranges in the clouds gather and start to hide the setting sun… That this thinks that this type of menial life wasn’t so bad afterall.

Ieiri Shoko thinks she really will enjoy her school life here, no matter how much the upper echelon of people will criticize her.

——

You’re 13 when you’re trying to sew the rip in your middle school uniform, the unfortunate tear a direct consequence of accidentally falling on your face and getting saved by a panicking classmate who was not at all very gentle with tugging at the collar of your poor sailor blouse to save you.

(Beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.)

It’s unfortunate, very much so as your eyes narrow and glare at the 3rd time you pricked yourself with a needle that didn’t want to agree with you.

(It’s definitely out to get you.)

The sound of jingling keys and the familiar way your door swings open thankfully saves your slightly mangled uniform from getting just that little bit more tattered.

The front door always creaks a little, always squeals a little too loud as you turn your head to meet familiar eyes that continue to smile regardless of fatigue, the sound of tumbling heels and a bag getting plopped onto the genkan’s old shoe cabinet.

“Mama, welcome back.”

Throughout the years, you don’t think you’ve ever been lonelier within your now slightly less empty home. You suppose it’s because when you’re older, you have to get newer stuff too. Just to match your age and the ever-changing times that the old people on TV are always complaining about.

There’s a new carpet, one softer than any of the ones you used to own. A new coffee table that didn’t shake every time your knee even grazes it wrong— And a new fancy coffee machine that Mama had been using a little too much.

(Courtesy of Geto-mama. She said it was to thank the both of you for being ‘such great neighbours’ and that ‘she hopes that you stay her neighbours forever’ with tears in her eyes.

Mama says it might be because Geto-mama’s rut was coming soon around that time.)

Mama even has a brand new, shiny job as an office lady. From a waitress running around an izakaya to a corporate worker who sat in an office chair all day.

You think it’s quite the Cinderella story in itself.

‘Never belittle your achievements, for a small step forward is still progress made!’

(You honestly liked her doing the waitressing one better. She came home at reasonable times, had some weekdays off and even brought extra food back.

Life was good when you could stuff yourself on the too many yakitori sticks she brought home.)

But everything comes to an end, you suppose. So you hope these aches Mama always gets in her shoulders do too as your hands knead into her back, little grunts escaping you as you really put your back into it.

“Ugh… How was— School today, sweetie?” Your mother sighs when you get another knot out, releasing her stiff shoulders when you press just right.

(An expected question. It was the 1st day of your new middle school after all.)

“I don’t like the uniform.” It’s slightly itchy, smells weird despite the wash in your slightly old washing machine and it wasn’t as cute as the ones you saw in all the animes you watched on TV. “It’s kinda uncomfortable.”

All because it was new. Oh, that and the unfortunate fact that your mother requested your skirt to be so long— Especially with the approaching summer soon to come, teasing stuffy, hot days and sweaty clothes.

(You don’t mind too much. Saya-chan says miniskirts are not in her top 3 favourite things to wear, after all.)

“Hmm…” She doesn’t give much of a reply, her back relaxing back into the couch and her shoulders stiffening a little more from her actions as you continue.

“The new medicine Dr. Homura gave me tastes funny too. It’s not as sweet as last time.”

You think for a little. Just a little, because this situation just requires too much of your careful attention.

“But I think it’s working okay. Suguru says I usually just smell like normal.”

“Suguru,” You tug on his sleeve, fingers having a death grip upon his uniform as you swallow. Nervously shifting your weight from a leg to the other as you hurriedly tug off the strap of your backpack, shifting your hair back as you reveal the side of your neck to him.

It only hits you now that you both were standing before the big gates of Gege Junior High, only hits you when your palms felt wet and uncomfortable, damp and nervous.

Because what if your medicine didn’t work and you somehow reveal the 1 thing Mama wanted you to keep under wraps?

“Check me again, please…” Your eyes feel like they’re going dry, pure anxiety coursing through you all at once.

Just to sate your worries.

“You shouldn’t ask just anyone to check like that,” There’s a hand on your shoulder to steady you, black strands of hair tickling your cheek as you subconsciously hold your breath.

You’re stiff when his nose grazes your neck, gently swiping against your skin as he leans in close, leans in near. His body feels so warm when there’s barely any distance between you, he smells of citrus, of lavender sprigs and soft vanilla.

“Okay?”

“Mm… Oh, and Satoru woke up late so he wasn’t even there for the opening ceremony.” He doesn’t really come to school anymore, so it was a pretty big deal when he showed up with a bedhead and bleary eyes behind a pair of sunglasses.

(And attracted a lot of attention.)

“Hmph…” He’s obviously tired, yawning with a lazy hand over his mouth as he leans on Suguru’s shoulder, a spot of drool making its way down his lip as fingers surreptitiously position themselves to flick at his forehead.

“Ow…” He barely even reacts even when Suguru hits, doesn’t even get up— And even purposely drops his body weight onto the poor boy’s sturdier form.

“Satoru— You idiot, wake up.” It’s hissed, annoyed. Yet lacking all the bite it was supposed to have as Geto simply lets the spoiled Gojo continue to do as he pleases… Albeit at his own detriment, given the eyes that were pinned onto the overtly close childhood friends.

“Serves ya right, ugly bangs…”

Middle school is gonna be okay, you think.

——

“(last name)-chan! I didn’t know you were so close with Geto-san!” You hear a dragging of a chair, only able to blink twice before there’s a lunch box clattering onto your desk. Hasty, unpracticed and rushed.

Taking you by surprise.

“Ah, huh?” You’re confused as you halt the search for the poor textbook that you were so sure you had packed last night after Suguru reminded you through the window.

(And that you were sure you hadn’t lent it to Satoru.)

But… How did she know?

“Hm? He came by yesterday to drop off something of yours, didn’t he? Even called you by your first name and everything.” You can hear the clatter of her chopsticks, the sounds of her plastic utensils getting unpacked. “You both must be quite close to be like that!”

“Or maybe… I’m wrong?” You see something diminish in her eyes, something akin to a sudden flicker of disinterest as her feet steady themselves as if they were about to leave.

“Uhm… No, I guess you’re right. We are friends,”You say it so matter-of-factly, so nonchalantly as your eyes zoom about near the collar of her uniform.

Ya- Yamo— No, it probably wasn’t that. Something different, something else. Luckily for you, these uniforms came with name tags.

“Mi— Jou-san?” Your eyes squint at the small tag, the bright blue contrasting against the navy of your uniforms, proof that you were all 1st years in junior high.

“Mhm!~ I didn’t expect anyone to be so close with those star students! Didya meet ‘em in elementary or something?”

‘Star students’. Classes were separated based on how well each individual did on the entrance exams. Divided in terms of academics, segregated based on performance.

Truly, this was the epitome of meritocracy, you think.

(But being 2 classes down from your friends does seem a little much, in your opinion.)

“Hello?~ Are ya there?” Her hand waves you back into focus, realization striking you when your eyes flicker from her name tag— To her brown eyes— Then to the whiteboard with the class schedule written down.

Your (still missing) textbook.

“You’re gonna go see them?” Her voice teeters on a tremor, a clear sparkle in her eyes and a vibration in her tone that you just can’t ignore.

“An opportunity to be nice doesn’t hurt anyone! Today, your lucky colour is blue to correct the amount of redness in today’s luck! Watch out for yourself, do good deeds and stay cautious!”

You suppose it doesn’t hurt if Suguru knows he has a fan.

——

It’s only the 5th day of the beginning of middle school life— And Gojo Satoru thinks he’s going to burst from irritation had it not been for the innocent look in your eye and the confused tilt of your head.

“Satoru? Are you okay?” A cold bar of pinkish-red ice cream appears in front of him, waving around and beckoning him to have a taste— As he just stares on with a frown.

“Maybe he’s constipated.” It’s uncommon for him to be this disinterested, this unhappy— Especially at the sight of sweet treats.

(And Geto Suguru already knows exactly what’s on his mind.)

“Do you not like the watermelon flavour after all?” You’re now despondent, shoulders slumping as you stare down at the ice cream you had gotten at the nearby convenience store after Satoru had slapped a ¥1000 bill in your hand, cheeks flushed red and claiming;

“Ya can get anything ya want.” He pushes his palm through his hair as he averts his gaze, shy, but so huffy and embarrassed as you smile at him in gratitude. “M’ sorry for not comin’ for so long.”

Gojo Satoru doesn’t mind. He shouldn’t have minded at all, really. You’re just trying out a new flavour of ice cream, right? Just trying to change it up a little and be more adventurous, aren’t you?

(Wrong. And he was pretty sure you’ve never even spared a glance at this brand of ice cream in your life, especially when he’s given you tons more of more expensive ones that you most definitely like better.)

And Gojo Satoru doesn’t mind that you’re suddenly interrogating him on ‘his type’. Doesn’t mind that you look at him with that cute curiosity in your eyes and a nod of your head as you— Don’t even try to hide the fact that you’re writing it all down in a notebook that was most definitely your ‘diary’.

(Trust him. He’s even straight up asked you to let him read it… Only for him to find logs about food, Saya-chan, anything you’ve been watching on TV recently—

And nothing juicy at all.)

“Do you think long or shorter hair is cuter, Suguru?”

The noiret’s eyes blink once before they flicker towards your own hair length, only staring for a few seconds before he was back to smiling.

“I think your length would be the most ideal.”

Hah. What a kiss-up.

(Not like he was any better.)

“Do you think twintails are cute, Satoru?” You poke at his cheek as he sits next to you, ads running on your old TV as you both await the continuation of the newest Pokemon episode.

“They’re ugly.” He huffs through a bite of chocolate, eyes turning towards you to offer you the bar as he sees your hands reach up to your own hair— And imitating said hairstyle.

“Really?” You turn to look at him with the proposed hairstyle, causing him to nearly choke as you close your eyes and think a little. “I always thought they were cute though.”

“T-They look fine, I guess.” But only on you.

“What’re ya even gathering all this useless info for anyway?” The watermelon popsicle is already in his mouth, red staining his tongue and teeth as he bites down on the cold treat— The artificial sweetness mixing strangely with the poison on his tongue. “Ya don’t think we like you enough?”

He doesn’t like this at all. Not one bit.

“No,” You begin once more as you hum, your ice cream sandwich half-eaten as you offer a bite to Suguru. “I’m learning trends.”

…what?

“Mhm.” You nod— Innocently.. “You know Mijou? The one you both met a few days ago?” The annoying one who couldn’t stop gawking, yeah, Satoru’s pretty sure he knows her, given how taken she was by him.

(“Shoko doesn’t like her.”

“That’s cause Shoko doesn’t really care about most people.”)

He remembers the way she tried to cut into every conversation, every word from you getting lapped up like a camel to water, remembers the way her smile was too tight, too forced— As if she desperately wanted to jam a puzzle piece into somewhere it just didn’t belong.

(He should be alarmed, should be annoyed. The energy this girl was radiating was sinister, was unfortunate. Yet, he knows she doesn’t even possess enough cursed energy to see cursed spirits.)

“She wants to know more about you guys too.” A nod to your testament as you lick up escaping drops of melting ice cream.

(It never hurt to know just a little more about someone.)

“I’m sure she’s nice, but,” Suguru cuts in, thankfully— With his tone of bluntness and so straight to the point. “I’d prefer knowing I’m hanging out with you and not someone else.”

(Did you really have to look surprised? They both knew you like the backs of their hands.)

“Oh.” Your eyes look to the ice creams and back to purple eyes. “Sorry, I just… Thought that you might like her a little more if you both knew some of her favourite things…”

(He’s pretty sure you’ve learned that from that talkshow you listen to every damn morning.)

“What’s got ya so interested in her till this point, anyway? Ya plannin’ to make friends with her or something?”

“…no, I don’t break my promises, Satoru.” No matter how childish and long ago they were. Yet, you blink at them as if something was wrong, as if you were distraught and confused. As if you don’t really get why they don’t understand yet.

“But cursed energy… Is made of negative emotions, right? And if they accumulate enough overtime, it can cause a cursed spirit to be born.”

“Yea. Y’er point?” Gojo Satoru is getting tired of this, and his mind begs, pleads with him to just tell you to stop trying to make them like friends such a desperate weirdo.

“(name).” Suguru cuts you off, realization peaking in his eyes as his mind catches on far too quickly for Gojo’s liking— He never fares well when it came to thinking about others, after all. “You’re not saying that you think—“

“She’s… Lonely.” There’s something flaring up in your eyes alongside your innate strength, a glow of power that Satoru’s never really seen before. “She says her parents are never really home and that she’s happy she gets the house to herself in the afternoons.”

“I-It just looks like it’s just been stewing for a really long time, since she says she gets reoccurring nightmares and night terrors. She doesn’t have enough cursed energy to see it, but—“ You take a breath in as you continue to ramble. “I could be wrong and it could just be something else… But I just have a feeling that she needs help…”

“That’s what being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is, isn’t it?”

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[luveline]

hey jade!! how’s everything going, was wondering if maybe we could get some more eddie and roan sometime? lots of love

Roan climbs into your lap unexpectedly, an inch from knocking a few teeth out. You wrap an arm around her, her hair tickling your arm and shoulder as she leans back. 

You’re both used to you being her chair, and she settles swiftly. “You okay?” you ask. 

“Yep. You want popcorn?” 

You smile. She’s so much older than when you met, but she’s still a little girl, still wobbles around words and lisps in funny places. The plastic bowl in her lap is half empty, but it smells strongly of chocolate. “Dad put milk duds in,” she says. 

“I can see that. I don’t want any, Roro. Thank you.” 

She grins at you, her eyes bright with love. “You're welcome.” 

You cross your arms around her stomach. “What’s dad doing, anyways?” 

“Making s’getti.”

“Oh, yum,” you say. You can smell the frying beef from here, but you hadn’t realised he was making spaghetti. He and Roan like burgers. Too much. “Does he need help?” 

“He said to tell you to go help.” 

“So why didn’t you tell me?” you murmur fondly, teasing as you tickle her sides. 

She laughs. “Because I want to watch the movie with you.” 

You place your chin atop her head. “Well, the princess wins. He’ll understand.” 

Eddie does not understand. He appears from the kitchen with his hair in a low bun and a grease stain on his shirt, a wooden spoon forgotten in his left hand. The right points at you accusingly. “What, you fall out of love with me or something?” He points at Ro. “Or did she not tell you?” 

“She told me, babe, I just didn’t listen.” 

Eddie pushed his tongue against his bottom lip. 

You cuddle his mini me closer. She’s lax as warm putty in your arms, completely and utterly content. 

“Please,” you say. “I’ll make dinner myself tomorrow. Promise. I just wanna stay with my girl.” Because she’s yours. How crazy it is that only two years ago you didn’t know her, and now you get to hold her and love her and be a mom to her. You can’t imagine missing out on another second of her life. “Please, baby?” 

He narrows his eyes at you. “Fine. But not because I believe you.” His gaze softens, and he holds the spoon away from you to lean down and kiss your cheek. 

“What’s that for?” you ask. 

“I know what you’re thinking about.” He squeezes your shoulder. “Love you, hate you. We’ll get takeout tomorrow.” 

“Wait, dad!” Roan says before he can leave. 

He grins at her. “Yeah?” 

“Can I have more popcorn?” she asks. 

His smile drops. He takes the bowl from her in a dramatic snatch that makes her giggle. 

“Rude!” she says, turning to you to see if you agree. 

“So rude,” you agree, hooking your hands under her arms to encourage her face to yours. “You know I love you so much?” 

The beauty mark under her eyelashes twitches as she smiles. “More than you love dad?” 

“A little bit,” you whisper. 

Her pearly baby teeth peek out as she smiles and hugs your face. “That’s awesome!” She sounds exactly like her dad, all breathless excitement.