CLAWS | CS55

"i told you not to lie down on the floor with them." you watched as your husband struggled to get little tsumiki to let go of his hair, while megumi decides on climbing his father's back.

"don't ya scold me, woman. i didn't ask for this."

"you definitely were when you decided to get me pregnant."

he doesn't reply, only glaring at you while still trying to get tsumiki to let go.

"pa... pa-paaa..." his little girl babbles, letting go of his hair only to grasp his shirt, putting it in her mouth and starting to chew on it.

he smiles in adoration, rubbing tsumiki's back with his large hand and reaching behind to prevent megumi from falling. he looks up at you, admiring you while you rub your swollen belly.

"y'so pretty, mama." he spoke, and the baby in his arms latches away from his shirt, looking up at her father and at you with her big round eyes.

toji looks down at his baby girl with a small smile, "mama's pretty, ain't she, baby? hm?"

"ma-ma..." tsumiki coos, flashing you a gummy smile.

"aww, my baby!" you sniffled, trying to get up to hug your baby and stop your tears.

"ah, ah. no. don't even." toji stops you, sighing in relief when megumi finally decides to get off his back, only to run towards you.

"mama!" megumi exclaims, resting his head on your belly. you smiled, ruffling his hair.

oh, how you cherished moments like these with your little family.

baby daddy!sukuna aesthetic:

readers aesthetic:

Picturing the JJK men as dads on the beach!

Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Nanami

TW: Fluff, Established Relationships, It's silly if you think of Geto as a cult leader and you really don't know what he does for a living.

Gojo Satoru is definitely the playful type. Gently holds your toddler’s tiny little hand as they take their very first steps onto the beach. You, of course, are a few steps behind, recording the whole thing, his white hair blowing in the breeze, those bright blue eyes flickering back to you with the happiest smile you’ve ever seen.

When your little boy finally reach the wet sand, the first chill of seawater brushes over his little toes as he squeals, cautious of the water. Satoru crouches slightly beside them, steady and so full of joy. You can hear his soft giggles and gentle reassurances, “I got you,” and “Don’t worry, daddy won’t let anything happen”, as he coaxes him forward, step by tiny step.

Each time the waves grow taller, he lets out a playful, “Wooo!” before shielding your little one with his long frame, bursting into laughter that makes your chest ache with love. “That was a big one, huh?” he grins, scooping the toddler closer. Checking them over as they spit out salt water. Helping him rub his little blue eyes that resemble his fathers. “My brave little man”

Eventually, you make your way over, camera tucked away, the salty breeze tangling in your hair. Satoru looks up the second he senses you near, and his grin only widens.

“There’s mama,” he coos, squeezing your toddler's small hand, pulling them close, before reaching for your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “C’mon, join us. The water’s not so scary.”

And just like that, the three of you stand at the edge of the sea, the water coming in cold burts, shells dazzling in the sand. When the next one crashes in, he pulls you both close, laughing loud and bright as cold water splashes up your legs.

“See?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek as your little one squeals with joy. Small little kicks in the water. “Told you I’ve got you.”

------------

Now Geto Suguru, absolutely has a schedule in mind. A bit of time at the beach, a long scenic car ride timed perfectly for the twins to nap, then dinner at a place he made reservations for weeks in advance, with a menu that includes safe foods for the kids and views that he knows you will love.

You, of course, have no clue what the schedule is. You’re just following his lead, letting him steer the day. If he’s being a little overprotective? Well, he means well.

He kneels down to carefully lather sunscreen onto the twins' cheeks, smoothing it into their soft skin with those big gentle hands. Then he sprays down their arms and legs until their glistening (hey do you want two little ones complaining about sunburns? No? Thought so), before adjusting their sun hats and leading them down the sand toward the tide pools.

“The tide’s too rough for little girls,” he murmurs, glancing back at you with playful violet eyes as if daring you to challenge him. He’d said the same thing when school season came up, murmuring something about “not just yet” and “there’s still time.” You’re starting to realize he just doesn’t want them to grow up too fast.

Once you reach the tide pools, it’s like watching a nature documentary, narrated carefully with a smooth, honeyed voice. Suguru who crouches low, sleeves rolled up, pointing to colorful sea anemones and starfish nestled in rock crevices. The occasional hermit crabs scrambling about. He gently holds the girls back with one arm as he explains how we have to be careful, how these creatures are delicate, how we should never touch unless we’re invited. He asks them questions, listens closely to their little answers, and hums in thoughtful praise when they’re right.

You take pictures from behind for his little scrapbook - your husband hunched beside his daughters, the wind tousling his dark hair, a small smile on his face as they eagerly chatter about “funny sea goos” and “squishy blobs.”

Even when the four of you walk along the shore, he’s still tuned in. He picks up every seashell they hand him and slips them into his pockets, keeping each one safe. Talking to you that he will have them do a little craft, maybe decorate a frame for your next family photo. His other hand stays laced in yours, thumb brushing your knuckle like a quiet thank-you for being here, for trusting his rhythm.

And when the twins break into a run, he calls after them, not angry, just firm. Protective.

“Hey, stay where I can see you. Don’t go too far, yeah?”

You can't blame the man for being a little overprotective. He's just trying to protect the only family he has left in the world.

------

Nanami finally got his beach house.

It wasn’t something he ever really thought he’d have, not in the way people dream of it. Certainly not with a wife he adores more than life, and definitely not with a little girl who just turned one. Both surprises. Both blessings he never knew how much he needed until they arrived, warm, loud, full of life and love.

He lounges beneath a large umbrella, reclined in a low chair on the sand with your daughter curled up sound asleep on his chest. A small paperback rests in his hand, the other gently cradling her back as he reads aloud in a quiet, steady voice. Loud enough only for himself to hear. Enough for her to feel the rumble of his chest when he speaks. The soft rise and fall of her breathing tickles his cheek where her chubby face presses into him, her tiny hand curled in the fabric of his white linen shirt.

Every so often, he glances up from the page, eyes following you as you wander the shore barefoot, collecting small shells and smooth stones. Things for her little fingers to hold, to marvel at.

Sometimes, you join him again. Both of you kneeling in the sand with your babbling baby girl perched in your lap. You and Nanami take your time building crooked little castles, digging moats and shaping towers, only to watch her gleefully slam her tiny fists into them, squealing as the grains collapse under her touch. He chuckles each time, murmuring that it’s good for her sensory development, brushing sand from her face and little hairs before beginning again.

Every now and then, Nanami looks at you.

Just looks. Like the tide has swept something open in his chest and left it raw in the most beautiful way. Sometimes he’s still trying to understand how he got here, how he gets to have this. How he deserves to have this.

There’s a softness in his gaze that lingers longer than the shell rustling in the waves. A quiet, awestruck kind of love that doesn’t need to be spoken aloud, because it’s seen in every glance, every kiss to your lips, every shell gently placed in your daughter’s hand.

He never expected this life. But god, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

When tumblr refreshes itself and the fic I was reading fucking disappears forever 💔

I’ve been searching for a smau I was reading for three days 😔

what if everyone voted for logan for driver of the day on sunday because bro is spending 4th of july in england

SURPRISE COOKIES FOR MAMA 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. nanami kento x female! reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. both of you have a three year old daughter, broken conversations from your daughter bcs she's a kiddo, i'm leaving all of you to name your daughter.

note. midterm week, i'm going to try uploading, but if i don't, just know that it's not me ignoring my wips or you. love you all mwah <33

"this me!" (daughter) pointed at an old picture of . . . a young you with a blue thin strap floral sun dress posing cutely in front of the camera — a big smile on your face, showing off your pearly whites, "i pretty."

nanami who had his back leaning on the couch could only muster out a soft chuckle, he had his hand on the young girl's small waist to hold her up right; preventing a tumble or two, "that's mama. she looks lovely, doesn't she?"

(daughter) craned her head up to face nanami, her e/c doe eyes blinking, ears unbelieving that the portrait was her mother, "mama? no, this me! i so pretty," she pointed her chubby finger towards the portrait, which is undeniably almost as big as she is.

"mhm, that's mama," nanami caressed his daughter's head lovingly, "you do look a lot like mama, you know?" he whispers, eyeing the portrait (daughter) had laying on her small lap.

half a decade ago — nanami told himself that he isn't fit to be a family man; he swore the both of you talked about kids, and how you'd both wait at least until later on into the marriage. but (daughter) was a surprise pregnancy, and the best thing that has ever happened to the both of you.

"this no mama, this me papa," (daughter) pouts, her soft lips puckering out slightly.

nanami used his free hand to flip the photo album, showing a picture of (daughter) as a newborn. a pink colored bandana around her small head, eyes shut in content, "this is you the day you were born," he cooed out, letting his daughter take in the picture.

what a bundle of joy she is. nanami remembered every second he spent inside the delivery room by your side — letting you dig your fingers inside his flesh, because he knew the pain that you were going through at that moment couldn't compare to anything else that he was feeling. all he cared about was you and his daughter.

"this me?" (daughter)'s meek voice resounds. nanami nodded, eyes gazing into his daughter's doe ones, "i so pretty."

nanami smiled warmly, "yes, you are pretty, just like mama," he compliments; pinching her chubby cheeks gently, "it still surprises me how you're an exact copy of your mama . . ." he pats her head, his palm engulfing her whole head.

(daughter) nods her head vigorously, "mama and me twins!" she cheers happily, kicking her feet.

the male chuckles, "mhm, twins," he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up — standing as he puts the picture album on top of the coffee table that sat in the middle of your living room, "mama's coming home soon."

"we take cookies out of cooler, papa," (daughter) pats her father's cheeks gently before wrapping an arm around his neck to hook herself close to nanami, "warm for mama."

nanami vaguely remembered the day he passed by a baking class near his office. where he first saw you, holding onto a young boy's hand — no younger than six years of age, guiding him to whisk what seemed to be cake batter. he stood out of the glass pane, staring into the class for at least the next three minutes out of his twenty-four hours just to look at you.

he thought you looked pretty (and the display cake looked pretty as well, but that was besides the point).

but he never saw you again until three months later at the same place, and you noticed him. surprising. considering he was staring yet again for the second time. but he didn't think that you'd go out your way to talk to him right at that moment — and he was thankful you did.

"mhm, we're going to warm it up for mama," with ease, nanami opened the cooler and grabbed a plate of messily made classic chocolate chip cookies wrapped with saran wrap. (daughter) contributed to most of the procedure, and nanami thought it was the third most beautiful thing besides you and her. he's a proud dad.

the process of warming the cold cookies was short — with (daughter) prepped on top of the counter, with nanami's arms right by her sides. the two of them smiling at each other in silence, waiting for the oven to let out the satisfying 'ding!', hopefully before you came through the door.

unfortunately, things don't always go the way he wanted. and there you were, with your usual (color) coat slung over your arm, heaving out an exhausted sigh, mumbling out a soft, "i'm home."

(daughter)'s head turn to face the door, eyes widening in panic as she then faced nanami, "mama home, papa," she whispers, covering her mouth to hold back a loud giggle.

nanami nuzzled his nose into hers, "want to go hide from mama?"

the young girl nods her head, almost immediately wrapping her arms around her father's neck, "go go go, papa, hide, hide!" she whispers, giggling as she fit her small face into the crook of nanami's neck.

nanami laid a hand behind his daughter's head, he passed by you who had just walked through the short hall leading towards the living room, sending out a slight signal through his eyes as he walks into (daughter)'s sage colored room. he laid the young girl down onto the rugged floor, "go go, hide from mama."

the girl wasted no time scurrying under her bed, giggling softly. on the other hand, nanami walked out of her room with a small smile, approaching you.

"something smells good," you greet the male, opening your arms for a hug. i mean — what else do you need after a long day of work besides a warm hug from your husband?

nanami's arms felt like a blanket engulfing your body, he buckled his knees slightly to press a short kiss on your lips, "(daughter) has your baking abilities, 'm not surprised. good day at work?"

you nod, "tiring day, a boy spilt heavy cream all over the floor and his mother blamed us for it," nanami's face hardened a bit after hearing your story, "she practically went on a cursing spree in front of the kids, the cops had to restrain her."

the male grazed his finger on your cheek, "i'm sorry about that, she didn't hurt you, did she?"

you shook your head, "no worries, where's my baby, hm?"

nanami pinched your nape gently, "she wanted to surprise you with her cookies, she's in her room hiding. go see her and i'll be there with the cookies, yes?"

"you're too nice to me," you jokingly said.

"just to you," he rolled his eyes, brushing his lips over the hollow of your nose, "go, go. she's waiting for you."

you pulled yourself away from his embrace, putting your coat on top of the kitchen's counter before sauntering over to (daughter)'s room, knocking on her door. which resulted in an indubitable string of laughter from your own blood and flesh from under the bed, "baby? where're you?"

her soft and hushed giggles didn't stop when you step inside her room, "are you . . ." you pretended to open the closet, "here!"

and (daughter) stifled back a laugh when you failed to find her. and the next attempt, you squat down to eye under the bed, "there you are," her loud laughs finally chimed out, "give mama a hug, please?"

the young carbon copy of you crawled out from under the bed, immediately rushing to your lap to give you a warm hug, "i miss mama . . ." she pressed a kiss to your cheek, "mama miss me?"

you cradled her body back and forth, "mama misses you so much."

"i have surprise for mama," (daughter) abruptly pulled back from the hug, "surprise cookies for mama!"

the scent of chocolate entered your nostrils as nanami walked inside the room with a plate of freshly warmed chocolate chip cookies, "it's not a surprise anymore when you tell mama about it, isn't it?" he asks with a slight chuckle.

"'ts okay, mama still surprised. i bake cookies with papa," (daughter)'s eyes twinkled with happiness when nanami laid the plate down on the floor, "i bake cookies like mama. try try mama!"

and so you did, "'ts so yummy, good job, baby!"

nanami tugged on your arm towards him, slithering an arm around your waist, "'f course she did, you're her mama, y'know?" the male leaned in to place a short kiss to the tip of your nose.

(daughter) shrieks out, "papa cooties!"

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

nanami had picked up an endearing habit after getting with you. every week whenever he would meet you, he would bring you a bouquet — not those cheap, ordinary flowers from the supermarket but ones from an established florist shop. and with how many times he had frequented, the florist had come to recognise him, greeting him with a warm welcome when he came by.

nanami would pick out each and every flower for your bouquet. he would pick out the prettiest ones, those he thought that were nigh to your beauty — though nothing could ever be in his eyes. soon enough, he was helping the florist with the arrangement of the flowers, putting them in a manner he hoped you would love.

nanami's face would light up every time he presented you with a new bouquet. the sweet, adorable smile that sprawled over your face when he would give them to you made a budding feeling of amour blossom within him — just as how the flowers bloomed in the bouquet. he felt as if they bloomed even more in your presence.

nanami did not care for your protest regarding his newfound habit. you would constantly tell him that he didn't need to do this and that your home was now full of flora and you felt saddened whenever they perished. but he would simply tell you that that was all the more reason to buy more bouquets for you, so that your home would never be without them. and even though you would sigh in exasperation, the delighted glint in your eyes didn't escape him and that was all that mattered.

can someone help me find this one fic😭 it was a nanami fic and he was readers’ neighbor. I remember the readers ac broke so she went for a swim at nanamis house????

evil papa

summary: satoru being menace nothing new genre: fluff obviously dad!gojo x mom!reader and ur 6 month old son 👶

request

All the problems in your life begin with two words: Boredom and Satoru.

Haru watched Satoru with a cheeky smile. After adjusting the camera, Gojo began unpacking the box.

“Dad got you something,” he exclaimed excitedly.

One day, he saw a video of a child reacting to a talking cactus and decided he had to buy one for his son, but then he forgot about it. Yesterday, however, he got bored at work. While his students argued over something, he was scrolling through his phone and came across the video he had saved. Of course, he immediately ordered the toy online.

He set the cactus up, pressed the button, and placed it in front of the baby.

Your son reached out to touch the toy, exclaiming, “Eeek!”

Eeek!

The sweet smile faded from his chubby face as he shuddered and backed away.

Satoru chuckled at his son's reaction, and the cactus mimicked the sound. Suddenly, the room filled with crying. Haru, who had been trying to stay brave, edged even further away from the toy, his eyes fixed on it the entire time.

You and Satoru exchanged surprised glances.

Amused by his son’s reaction, Satoru couldn’t hold back a laugh. His voice, distorted by the toy, echoed through the room, making the frightened Haru turn toward you. Still crying, he quickly crawled in your direction.

Your evil husband continued to tease his son, grabbing the toy and walking toward you both.

You opened your arms and placed the baby on your lap. “Oh, my poor baby, are you scared?” you cooed softly. The cactus mimicked your words, and Haru shuddered in your arms.

Satoru was laughing silently, covering his face with one hand. “Oh my God, I can’t!” he exclaimed, choking on his laughter.

Meanwhile, Haru’s cries only grew louder.

You kept stroking your son's back, trying to soothe him, though you couldn’t help but crack a grin. “Satoru, that’s enough! You’re scaring him—turn it off!” you said firmly.

Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, Gojo finally composed himself.

When he glanced at Haru, still crying, he noticed the little boy had buried his face in your neck. Quiet sobs and tiny hands clutching your shirt made Satoru’s smile fade.

“Okay, baby, Papa’s sorry. Look, I turned it off—see?” he said gently.

Haru pressed his chubby cheek against your shoulder, his hiccups breaking the silence. His damp white eyelashes fluttered a few times as he cautiously glanced at Gojo, then shifted his gaze to the green toy in his father’s big palms.

“See? It’s all right,” Satoru said softly, his tone soothing. He moved closer and held out his hands toward his son.

Haru hesitated for a moment before reaching out to his dad, his lips forming a small pout. Gojo gently wrapped his arms around him, brushing away the tears still streaming down his cheeks with a careful finger.

“Now Papa feels bad,” Satoru murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Haru’s rosy cheek.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he added, planting more kisses on his son’s tear-streaked face.

You rested your head on Satoru's strong shoulder and whispered conspiratorially, “Your dad is such a fool, right? Let’s punish him and eat all his sweets?"

As if he understood what you were saying, your son cooed.

"Hey!" Satoru exclaimed.

You reached out and lightly touched Haru’s tiny nose.

“Boop,” you said softly. Haru’s lips curled into a small smile.

“Boop,” you repeated, smiling back.

extra

Haru stared warily at the three cactus toys in front of him. Even though he had mostly overcome his fear since their first encounter, and he almost didn’t cry. Almost. Clearly, this toy wasn’t his favorite.

He crawled closer to Satoru, his wary eyes never leaving the green toys.

Gojo, of course, thought he was incredibly funny and couldn’t resist ordering a couple more of the same toys. But hey, don’t rush to judge him. He just wanted his beloved son to overcome his fears. Or at least that’s the excuse he had been rehearsing in his head—since, after all, you didn’t know about the purchase yet.

He patted his son gently on the back and started, “Remember, my son, the best way to destroy your enemy is to make th–.”

“Satoru?! What the f—?”

taglist: @3lliesrifle @k-kkiana @issamomma @spicana @achbbys000 @happytreetale @mashtura

🌵more dad!gojo and Haru HERE

please be a sweetheart and leave a comment it means the world to me and keeps me motivated

this piece might look a little clumsy and weird i just didn’t write for a minute and i forgot how to do it and i forgot english too😞. but it was in my drafts and maybe some of yall missed my baby Haru so here we go. anyway i hope u liked it!!!

i missed yall and Haru missed u too. 👶😘

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