#but in a gentle dad hug way

[rosescxrner]

This seems to be one of my biggest hear me out's, because no one I know irl supports me, but I know tumblr will have my back

HEAR ME OUT

[dirtytransmasc]

Hi!!!!

Do you have any hcs for how Alicole would try and solve and argument with the kids? Like, their dynamic (especially Aegon with Alicole cause he’s the oldest) is just so interesting and I’ve always wondered how an argument/disagreement would play out with them

ooh, tasty concept.

with arguments amongst the children, they try and get them to take a step back. they'll each take a kid (or two if it involves all of them) and give them a hug or something of the like, easing the tensions, before helping them come to some sort of compromise or agreement.

when it comes to non petty arguments that every child has, the source of issues amongst the kids is the following;

with Aegon they have to settle his need to compensate for feeling as though he is lacking. he tends to pick on his siblings when he's feeling down on himself. so it's a lot of affirming words and hugs while also chiding his cruel behavior. he's definitely hard on himself about being cruel as well, he doesn't like being mean it just sorta comes out of him when he's not in good spirits about himself. he shoves his siblings away over little things when he's upset which only makes him feel worse in the long run. the whole situation makes it hard to parent, as it's not right how he treats his siblings at times, but it's also awful how he feels and how it presents itself. there's typically long talks after the fact. Aegon's usually in his dad's arms, more often than not, while he mom comforts him.

with Aemond it's cooling his temper and frustration, deep breaths and grounding. they remind him that he can't let every jab get a rise out of him, that he always had them to turn to when he needs help, that he's not alone to handle his anger. they try and learn more and more each time, what triggers his anger, what helps him calm down, what to avoid, etc. sometimes he needs to just be held other times he needs a moment alone to breathe. they also try and help him learn how to self regulate and also make his siblings aware that he's getting upset prior to him lashing out (they also talk to them about it).

with Helaena, arguments tend to be because she thinks so differently from her brothers. not only is she a girl in a house of boys, but also because she's autistic (I was the autistic 'sister' in a house of boys for most of my life, it definitely brewed some unique arguments, and I'm gonna project god damn it), their ways of thinking and doing are so different sometimes that she just loses it. so with her, they let her talk, they let her ramble and decompress until she can ground herself, then they have to try and explain the boys point of views, how they see may not be the right way, nor is hers, neither are, but they have to learn to agree. then it's hugs and kisses and talking it out, before they go back to hashing it out with the boys.

Daeron's the most agreeable with the siblings, very adhd coded in my mind (so I'm going to project my brother onto him cause they're very copy pasted in my mind) so when he gets into an argument it's because he's going too fast, too passionate, and/or too much. so again, like most of their children, it's grounding first talking later. like Helaena, they have to explain that the way he is isn't bad or wrong, but that's sometimes we need to slow down, take a breath, cool off, and than continue.

with arguments they take their kids separately, normally separated into different rooms and they visit them together. depending on the exact situation they may just offer hugs and softness, or they'll play a slight game of good cop/bad cop, though they're careful with it. the goal is to solve the problem, not slap a bandaid on it. they tend to each kids needs before handling the actual issue at hand and then being them together to find a solution.

they can both be soft and stern in their own ways. Cole is typically softer on them, as he gets to their levels, takes them close while talking, but he has a stern voice and makes it clear he's willing to put a foot down if need be. while Alicent tends to be a bit more formal and stereotypically authoritative, sitting at the table with them, even if she holds their hands in hers and pulls their chairs close so she can stroke their cheeks.

normally the kids can make right up, or at least come to peaceful terms, but if it doesn't, cause kids can hold grudges like no one's business, Alicent and Cole are forced to remain wholly neutral which is much harder than one would think. most of their fights that lead to grudges are very childish so it's really just waiting for them to crack and realize it was a stupid argument. this is made easier when they don't get involved, so they just laugh amongst themselves where the kids can't see them, and try and keep face in front of them (they can smell weakness and betrayal. send help. a 4 kids household isn't easy). they definitely have moments where they wave the white flag cause one of the kids accused them of siding. the "get along" shirt is also an active and well worn member of the family (Aegon and Aemond share it often)

this video is very much Aegon and Daeron. they feud often. they're either acting like Aegon is a second dad to him, or they are actually going to war and have been sworn enemies for generations, fighting a battle to honor their forefathers (Alicent and Criston are so tired). speaking of Aegon being a second dad, he definitely oversees a lot of arguments between Daeron and his friends... does he understand little kid drama? no. is it entertaining as all hell? you fucking bet, he wants to hear all about what little James did at daycare.

when the kids are arguing with them, which with the way they run the house is pretty rare, but not impossible, they first take a step back for themselves. they will never show anger or cruelty towards their kids, so they make sure they're ok before they even think about talking to their kids.

talking will always be their goal, they never want to use threats or punishments to get what they want from their kids, and they have different ways about it. because their kids know how their household works, that things work on their time, and that just being open and honest, they really just need a day or two to themselves, if the reason for arguing isn't time sensitive, and then they can just take it out.

Aegon is sulky, he just closes himself in his room or flees to a friend's house (which they let happen so long as he leaves a note, leaves his location on his phone, and checks in every few hours) if its really bad. he'll drag himself back to the kitchen table in 48 hours tops, wanting nothing more than for his mom and dad to love him again (they never stopped).

Aemond is just frustrated past reason, so he'll go out and fence with his dummy or just something physical, then he's more willing to listen to reason.

Helaena normally had a boundary or nerve pushed, which was normally accidental, either cause she was already frustrated with something or something changed and it just put both parties in bad positions. space is all she needs.

Daeron is a bit of all the above. he's sensitive, though hard to cross, its often more about other things, something his parent did just broke the camels back, so a long run brings everything back to reason.

Alicent and Criston care so much about their kids, every argument they have with their kids, typically one-sided as they refuse to truly yell, breaks their heart whether or not they did anything or not. they never plan to punish their kids for arguing, they were kids once and they know that its good that they feel safe enough to stand up and fight for what they believe to be true, that they feel safe to shout and disagree with them. they would rather that over anything else, cause they know their kids trust them.

while they aren't permissive with their kids, their are rules and hard limits, they don't count arguing as something to be punished, and their kids don't tend to strand into punishable territories. so resolving a fight is a long talk at the kitchen table, no man's land so to speak, where all parties air their grievances. the problem is discussed, apologies are said on all sides, and sometimes it doesn't always end in a hug, but it does end in feelings being soothed and bridges mended. no one walks away with hard feelings.

they're not perfect, but they make it work, and because they've put so much time and effort into making their home safe and sane, the whole family in therapy, making active efforts to be nothing like their first "home" true arguments are far and few between, and when they happen they're equipped to handle it. Alicent and Cole are such good parents, their kids love and trust them, theirs so much space to talk and negotiate and handle issues early on that there typically isn't any reason to fight. I think that's what makes them such a good family, cause its so hard for me to picture them actually fighting outside of petty things.

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.

tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t

“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.

toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”

you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.

“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.

it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.

“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.

you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.

toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”

you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.

toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.

“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.

it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.

toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.

“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”

megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.

though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;

“mama papa kissing!”

you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”

toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.

you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.

“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.

you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.

“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”

after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.

megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.

“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.

megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”

that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—

“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.

megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.

you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.

toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.

“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.

you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.

toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.

“so, where were we?”

[tender-rosiey]

“OH GOD! IT’S WALKING?!”

— baby’s first steps with gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter simply adores her father, and she is almost as energetic as him. you recall multiple times when he would pick her up smiling, and she would hold his face giggling and smiling just as much.

it’s such a cute scene, and you have at least 6 similar photos.

so yeah, it doesn’t surprise you that she keeps looking at the door, waiting for him to come back from his mission.

you’re both sitting on the ground, a little distance from the door. you lightly tickle her, “you wanna see dada?”

she looks up to you then looks to the door and murmurs, “dada.”

“he will be here soon; I promise,” you press a kiss to her cheek, and she squeals. soon, the door clicks and it slowly opens to reveal your dear husband who’s holding what you think are bags of sweets, toys, and souvenirs.

“the world’s best dad and husband is here!” he announces brightly. quickly, you get your phone out to record yet another cute moment between your daughter and your husband.

however, neither you nor your husband expected your little girl to stand up excitedly and try to waddle her way to her dad.

“dada! dada!” she says as she hurriedly stumbles and waddles her way to him.

satoru kneels down on the ground, opening his arms widely as he grins, “yes, dada! come to dada, baby!”

successfully, the girl stumbles into satoru’s arms and giggles as he peppers her face with kisses.

he looks up to you with a pout, shifting d/n into one arm, “excuse me, but I would like my two favorite girls to be in my arms, right now!”

you chuckle and settle into his embrace and he presses a kiss to the top of her head and your own.

d/n gives him a kiss—more like simply put her mouth on his cheek—and nuzzles into his chest. satoru grins before looking at you, “she is so cute!”

you quip with a big smile, “I got that on video!”

“you and your gorgeous mind,” he hums as he kisses your cheek.

NANAMI KENTO:

“kento, you’re going to grow grey hair early like this.”

honestly, you can’t blame him for worrying like this. you were finally going on vacation, so your husband wanted everything to be organized.

the last thing he needs is a headache after he finally got rid of the walking one (read: gojo).

he sits down, sighing, “I know; I just don’t want anything to go wrong.”

you chuckle, and settle down beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “don’t worry,” you say, “we checked everything over a million times. nothing will go wrong.”

nanami smiles tiredly before pulling you into a gentle kiss, “well, I guess you’re right,” he looks around for a moment, “where is d/n?”

“she is playing with her toys on the mat; why?”

“she is not on the mat.”

“she is not on the what?!” you yell, bolting out of your seat and frantically searching for her, “d/n, honey, where are you?!”

“y/n, calm down!” your husband tries to comfort you, “she is still in the house, so don’t stress about it; we will find her.”

as if on cue, a giggle and a coo are heard behind nanami. he turns to find the culprit, his 10 months old girl grinning. she squeals and tries to walk towards him, hands eagerly reaching out for him.

she is stumbling a bit, and her steps are clumsy, and nanami couldn’t have been prouder.

he smiles fondly, “good girl, d/n,” he opens his arms, encouraging, “you can do it.”

she flails her arms as she giggles, “da-dada!”

d/n finally reaches his leg and holds onto it for dear life. she starts swaying as she looks up at him, “dada!” he bends down to kiss the top of her head.

she hums happily, before waddling towards you, worried, “mama?”

you breathe a sigh of relief and hold her in your arms, “you got me worried, baby,” you stroke her hair and she nuzzles into your embrace, little hands gripping your shirt tightly.

nanami lets out a chuckle as he watches your daughter starts to fall asleep in your arms.

he moves to hug you two, and hums with content, “and you say that I am the worrywart.”

GETO SUGURU:

“y/n, what makes you so sure that they will start walking soon?” your husband says as he watches his two little girls play in the garden.

he already had nanako and mimiko, but god chose to grace him with his own pair of twins.

he couldn’t be happier, especially with way the twins both care for each other and beam whenever they see him.

he also adores seeing them play with you; it brings a type of serenity to his heart.

you chuckle, “call it a mother’s instincts.”

suguru rolls his eyes and pulls you by the waist, “you showing off, pretty?”

“nope! just asserting dominance.”

with a roll of his eyes, he gives you a peck on the nose. the both of you then settle down on the grass as well, quietly watching the girls try to chase—wait what chase?

suguru and you lock eyes, and he quickly scrambles to get the camera. meanwhile, you’re trying to encourage the girls to continue their walking, “who’s winning, girls?”

each one of the stumbling babies yells out a—supposedly—‘me!’. they‘re both squealing as they walk around.

soon enough, suguru makes an appearance and starts recording, “I am gonna get you!”

the girls squeal and try their best to run away from the big bad monster.

the very cute thing that even has suguru pausing in his chase is that when one of them falls, the other waits for her or tries to help her up.

of course, the latter mostly results in both of them falling on their small little bums. luckily, they clumsily stand up instead of crying their eyes out.

they get tired eventually though, so they waddle their way to you. both of them sit beside you and rest their heads on your lap.

suguru stands in front of you, hands on his hips, “you leaving me out of this group cuddle?”

your twins perk up and turn their heads to peak at him and they giggle when he pouts. still, they open their little arms for their dad to join the family hug, “dada! hug!”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your husband is not exactly the most enthusiastic father.

he wasn’t that affected by your son’s first word being dada, and a lot of things that you can’t be bothered to think about.

so yeah, you’re left with the role to be the encouraging parent, and to hype your son whenever he accomplishes something.

so obviously, your son adores you more than he does his father. however, there is no denying that sukuna’s genes are indeed strong.

despite the kid’s beaming smile, he could be choking a snake. it actually reminds you of that one hercules scene.

your son also has a quicker development than most kids, but it doesn’t lessen the excitement when he finally took his first steps.

you held onto sukuna’s arms, pointing at your boy, “sukuna, look, he is walking!”

“so?”

you pause then look at your husband, “what do you mean ‘so’?” you grin, “they’re his first steps, you silly goose!”

sukuna frowns, “I am not a silly goose,” he then rolls his eyes, “he was going to start walking sooner or later anyway, woman.”

you huff, “you’re no fun.”

however, you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer as you hear the scream of one of the servants. you and your husband are looking towards them, and—suffice to say—it’s a memorable scene.

your son, who just started walking, is somehow holding a wooden pickaxe and waddling his way behind the servant.

he is grinning and squealing too like he isn’t about to beat up an innocent person (it reminds you of something or rather someone).

the servant is surprisingly terrified form the kid as she screams, “my lady, please save me!”

you have no idea how a grown woman is terrified of a one year old, but you will give her the benefit of the doubt that he is, after all, the son of the king of curses.

you sigh with a chuckle and walk towards them, “on my way.”

the kid squeals, waddling quicker after the servant who’s about to shit her pants.

meanwhile, sukuna is smirking proudly as he watches his son, “now, that’s my kid.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[candy69gurl]

MISSING MOM? NAH

PAIRING Step dad!Gojo Satoru x gn!reader, Step dad!Toji Fushiguro x gn!reader, Step dad!Nanami Kento x gn!reader, Step dad!Geto Suguru x gn!reader, Step dad!Sukuna x gn!reader, Step dad!Shiu Kong x gn!reader, Step dad!Hiromi Higuruma x gn!reader, Step dad!Kamo Choso x gn!reader [seperate]

SYNOPSIS You've been missing your mum on Mother's Day, but stepdad is here to help you feel better. So he offers you his titties to suck on some consolation

WARNING stepcest, pre-established relationship, comfort, m!nipple sucking biting pinching, m!cumming in pants tits & hands, f!nipple playing and sucking, dry humping, handjob, reader asking for milk (Heian Sukuna lol), m!masturbation, m!overstimulation

NOTE this one's requested by my dear @imhellakawai.. We're just girls (with daddy issues) ... I laughed a lot while writing this.. Some people may find the contents unpleasant. Simply block and move on; please do not make disparaging remarks about me or report my post; if you do, prepare to get trolled by my moots. Please read the warnings and do not do this at home (duh).

◈ SATORU GOJO

Gojo enters the house. He's just returned from a mission. A mission on Mother's Day, of all days, had been a particularly cruel twist of fate. But it's not the praise or adrenaline that he's met with. Instead, the sound of sobbing fills the room as you pounce on him, your cries tearing at his heart..

"Hey, hey, baby," he says softly, kneeling in front of you. He gathers you into his arms, hugging you close. "It's okay, I'm here now."

You cling to him, the sadness and longing for your mother clear in your voice. "I miss mommmmmmmmm, pls daddy .. I need mommy," you wail, your body shaking with sobs.

He picks you up, cradling you in his arms as he blindly stumbles through the house, murmuring comforting words. "I know, I know, baby. It's tough without her. But I'm here for you, okay? I'll always be here for you."

Once he reaches your room, he closes the door behind him, enveloping you both in privacy and quiet. He lays you gently down onto your bed, following after you to sit beside you.

His hand reaches out, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek, wiping away the tears that continue to slip down. "You don't have to be sad," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "You have me. I'll be here for you, every step of the way."

Knowing that he can't replace your mother, Gojo draws strength from the idea that he can be there for you in his own way. He can't change the past, but he can make the present and future as comforting as possible.

Gojo scoots over next to you on the bed, gently laying you down. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his body, feeling your warmth and softness against him.

His heart aches for you, knowing how much you miss your mother. He kisses the top of your head, whispering softly, "I'll take you to your favorite restaurant tomorrow, promise baby. I'll spend the whole day with you. We'll go to the park, maybe take a walk through the city, and have as much fun as we can."

His voice is soothing, his promise of tomorrow's happiness a balm for your wounded heart. You start to relax in his arms, the weight of your sorrow lightening as he whispers sweet things in your ear.

"Sleep now, baby," he says, his hand gently stroking your hair. "I'll be right here."

Gojo drifts off to sleep, exhausted from his mission and the emotional weight of the day. He's still wearing his uniform, which now seems to serve as a barrier between him and the comfort of sleep.

In the middle of the night, your eyes flutter open, your sleep disturbed by the sight of Gojo, still and serene, his features soft in slumber. A pang of love and tenderness fills you, making you want to make sure he's as comfortable as possible.

Quietly, you reach out, your fingers working at the buttons of his uniform, unfastening it bit by bit. You're careful not to disturb him, your movements gentle and calculated. Once you've freed him from the confines of the uniform, leaving him in just his shirt and trousers.

You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in deep, the scent of him enveloping you. Your hands slip under the hem of his shirt, resting on his skin. They travel up his neck, then down to his chest, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles.

The sensation of his skin under your touch ignites something within you, a desire to explore, to connect. You unbutton his shirt, revealing his firm chest. You glance up at him, gauging his sleep. He's still deeply unconscious.

With a newfound bravery, you lean forward, your tongue darting out to trace the curve of one of his nipples. The sensation is electric, a shiver running down your spine. You close your lips around it, sucking gently, your tongue teasing it.

His hand comes up, wrapping around the back of your head, pulling you closer. His fingers thread through your hair, a soft moan escaping his lips. His other hand slides down your back, gripping your hip firmly.

Gojo's reaction spurs you on, your mouth traveling between his nipples, your tongue playing with them. You're lost in the sensations, the taste of him, the warmth of his skin. You're learning, but more than that, you're basking in the intimacy of the moment.

Gojo suddenly bursts into laughter, the sound filling the room. "Baby, what are you trying to do?" he says, the amusement in his voice apparent.

You pull back, flustered, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment. You realize he's awake now, and you hadn't even noticed. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.." Your voice trails off, unsure how to explain your actions.

Gojo's expression softens, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Baby, you've been missing mommy so bad that sucking on daddy's nipples is making you feel better?" He doesn't scold you for what you've done, for taking matters into your own hands. Instead, he pulls you back against his chest, his tone gentler now.

"Go on," he murmurs, his fingers tangling in your hair. "I'm liking it." He presses your face against his chest, encouraging you to continue. The approval in his voice, the warmth of his body, it calms the storm within you, reassuring you that you're not in trouble, that he's happy to share this intimate moment with you.

You resume your actions, your lips and tongue worshiping Gojo's nipples. Your eyes remain locked on his face, watching in the dim light as his cheeks flush with color, his pink petite nipples hardening beneath your touch. Your gaze drops, noticing his bulge against his pants, the outline of his erection straining against the fabric.

As your mouth works on his nipples, his hands reach down, rubbing at himself through his pants. You notice the way he's whimpering, twitching under your ministrations. You seize the moment, pushing him onto his back before climbing on top of him. Your hips grind against his hardening member, your mouth still busy on his nipple.

Gojo whimpers, trying to tell you to slow down, but you take it as encouragement, sucking even harder. Your tongue flicks over his nipple, and you gently nibble at it. You switch to the other nipple, repeating the motions, teasing him.

He tries to pry you off with his hands, gripping your hair gently, but you're determined, not letting him stop you. You pinch both nipples, twisting them between your fingers. Gojo arches his back, cumming through his pants, the evidence dampening the fabric.

Gojo gasps, his eyes wide, "Oh my, what a bad girl you are." Despite the teasing tone, there's an underlying sense of pride, of admiration, in his voice.

You purr, satisfied with the reaction you've elicited. You scoot closer to him, pressing kisses to his cheeks before snuggling into his arms. The warmth of his body envelops you, the rhythm of his breaths lulling you into a peaceful slumber. This time, you sleep soundly in his embrace, the ache in your heart starting to fade away.

◈ TOJI FUSHIGURO

The day stretches on, your sadness a tangible weight. Mother's Day is a cruel reminder of the loss that haunts you, the constant ache palpable as you sit on the couch, your phone providing a window to the world of mother-daughter relationships.

Toji notices your distress, the wetness on your cheeks and the tremble in your shoulders, but he remains silent, giving you space while he goes about his own business. It isn't until you let out a soft whimper that he can't bear your pain any longer.

"Come on ya, don't be a cry-baby now," he says gently, his voice a gentle reprimand. "You're much older." His tone is laced with affection, the concern evident in his eyes.

You cover your face with your arms, the humiliation of being seen in such a vulnerable state bubbling up inside you. "I'm sorry," you mumble, trying to hide your shame.

Toji approaches, his large frame casting a shadow over you as he sits down next to you. He slides an arm under your neck, pulling you onto his thighs, your head resting on his lap. His hand starts to work its way through your hair, a comforting and gentle gesture.

"It's okay," he reassures you, his thumb stroking your temple. "It's normal to miss her. I miss her too." His words are a balm, his touch soothing as you allow yourself to be consoled, the weight of the day slowly lifting.

Toji gently removes your hands from your face, taking the opportunity to wipe away the tears that cling to your eyes. His gaze is filled with compassion, the understanding in his eyes a testament to his own grief.

Without warning, you pull his head towards you, your lips capturing his in a tender kiss. Toji is caught off guard at first, but he returns the gesture, the comfort of human connection a balm for your sorrow.

You move from kissing his lips to the scar near his lips, your lips lingering on the familiar mark. When your sobbing subsides, you pull away from him, the desire for retribution sparking within you.

"You called me a cry-baby!" you retort, your voice tinged with indignation. In a sudden burst of energy, you pounce on Toji, straddling him on the couch. Your hands reach for his sides, your fingers dancing in a feeble attempt to tickle him.

Toji smirks, his hands wrapped around your waist, thwarting your efforts to tickle him. "It's true, you are a baby," he teases, the mocking light in his eyes intensifying.

Determined to make him pay for his mockery, you shift your focus to his chest, your teeth finding purchase on his nipple through his black tshirt. The action is bold, the bite hard enough to leave a mark.

Surprisingly, instead of the expected yelp, Toji lets out a low moan, the sound hanging in the air between you. The unexpected reaction leaves both of you momentarily stunned, the implications of your actions heavy in the room.

Toji releases his grip on you, clearing his throat awkwardly. You look at him, confusion clouding your expression, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

With a swift motion, you raise his tshirt, exposing his chest, and immediately set about sucking on his nipples. His eyes widen, his composure slipping a little at the sudden, intense attention you're lavishing on him.

Despite his attempts at restraint, Toji's arousal is evident, his erection straining against the confines of his pants. The way you tease him, alternating between sucking and licking his nipples, is tantalizing, making it increasingly difficult for him to ignore your advances.

Then, without warning, you take it a step further. Your teeth bite down on his nipple, following it up with a painful pinch. The resulting sound that escapes Toji's lips is a mixture of pain and pleasure.

The line between what's acceptable and inappropriate has been crossed, and Toji can no longer hold back. His hands grab you, forcefully pulling you off his chest and forcing you onto your back. Without hesitation, he lifts your shirt, exposing your sensitive breasts.

"Quit, brat. Now it's time for payback," he growls, his voice laced with a mix of dominance and desire. His mouth descends on your nipple, his tongue flicking against the hardened nub while his hand reaches for his pants, freeing his erection.

He strokes himself leisurely, his gaze never leaving your flushed face as he continues to suck on your nipples.

You moan softly, the sensations coursing through you leaving you breathless. You attempt to pull him away, but Toji remains resolute, his mouth firmly latched onto your nipple.

As his hand works his cock in tandem with his mouth on your chest, the tension between you builds. Your moans grow more desperate, the pleasure-pain of his actions leaving you both bewildered and intoxicated.

Finally, the dam breaks. Toji lets out a shuddered groan, his seed spilling onto your chest. The warmth coats your skin, the result of your actions etched on your body.

He releases hsi grip on your body, his breathing heavy, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of satisfaction and awe. The intimacy of the act is undeniable, the world beyond the confines of the room fading into insignificance.

You stare at the mess he's left on your tits, the implications of your actions sinking in. The dynamic between the two of you has shifted, the boundaries you've pushed a testament to the newfound uncharted territory you now occupy.

You sigh heavily, the weight of your grief bearing down on you once more. "Ghhh, I miss mom," you say again, your voice tinged with bitterness.

Toji lets out a frustrated sound, his hand coming up to slap his forehead. "For the love of God, shut up," he groans, his tone laced with exasperation.

◈ NANAMI KENTO

You tiptoe into Nanami's room, your eyes red and puffy from crying. He looks up from his book, concern etched on his face, as he notices your state. He sets the book aside, rushing to your side. Nanami kneels before you, placing a hand on your knee, "Honey, sweetheart, why are you crying?"

Your voice shaky, you tell him. "Today's Mother's Day, and I miss mom." Tears stream down your cheeks once more, the pain of missing your mother overwhelming you.

Nanami's eyes soften, and he feels a pang of sadness for your loss. "Come here, sweetheart. Tonight, you're sleeping with me. We can cuddle the pain away." He helps you up, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close.

You cling to him, grateful for the comfort he offers. Nanami leads you to the bed, gently laying you down. He adjusts the covers, tucking you in before climbing in beside you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling safe and comforted by his presence.

Nanami begins to hum a soft tune, caressing your hair gently. The rhythmic motion lulls you into a sense of calm, your sobs subsiding. You nuzzle closer, enjoying the warmth and security his embrace provides. As the night wears on, his reassuring touch and the sound of his heartbeat slowly lull you to sleep, your heart heavy, but not quite as broken.

Feeling safe and snuggled against Nanami, you begin to drift off to sleep. Your eyes flutter closed, but something catches your attention. As you lay against Nanami's chest, you notice that his shirt buttons are ajar, and his nipples are exposed.

A shiver runs down your spine as your mind wanders what if I- and without a moment's hesitation, you lunge forward, getting on top of him. You wrap your lips around one of his nipples, sucking gently. Your tongue flicks against it, and a soft moan escapes your lips.

Nanami's grip on you tightens, momentarily stunned by your sudden, bold action. His brow furrows, but he allows you to continue for a few moments before whispering, "Do you miss mommy this bad?"

You pause, unsure of how to respond, but the wanton desire you feel doesn't abate. You nuzzle against him, smiling into his chest before continuing your play with his nipple.

Nanami's hands travel to your hair, gripping it tightly as he lets out an involuntary moan. "Gosh… stop now, tis' too much," he commands, his voice thick with desire.

You ignore his plea, unbuttoning more of his shirt to expose the other nipple. You switch to that one, sucking it hungrily as Nanami's moans grow louder. His breathing quickens, and you can feel the need building in him.

"Sweetheart, I c-can't anymore," he begs, the desperation in his voice unmistakable. You look up at his face, smiling devilishly as you see the strain in his pants. You realize he's on the verge of losing control, and he frees his cock, stroking it gently as you continue to suck his nipple.

Nanami's moans grow louder, and his breathing becomes more erratic. You can feel the tension in his body, and he finally cums, moaning as he strokes himself. You continue sucking even after his orgasm subsides, enjoying the reactions you've elicited.

Nanami pries you off this time, his hands firmly but gently removing your mouth from his nipple. "What the hell were you doing?" he asks, a mixture of amusement, surprise, and arousal in his voice. You look up at him, your eyes full of childish innocence, before planting a kiss on his nose.

You giggle, snuggling close to him once more, your arms wrapping around him. You drift off to sleep, nestled against his body, content in the afterglow of invasion of his nipples.

◈ GETO SUGURU

The day's significance weighs heavy on your heart, a constant reminder of the void left by your mother's absence. You resist the urge to break down in tears, not wanting to burden Suguru with your sorrows.

Yet, as the day progresses, the weight of your emotions becomes too much to bear. Suguru notices the change in your demeanor, his keen senses picking up on your distress.

Confronting you, he demands an explanation for your unsettled state, refusing to be brushed off. You hesitate, unsure of how he'll react. But in the end, the yearning to share your feelings with someone overwhelms your fear.

Your voice wavers as you confess your longing for your mother. The confession hangs heavily between you, the vulnerability on display a stark contrast to the usual power dynamic.

To your surprise, Suguru doesn't scoff or mock you. Instead, his laughter is tinged with sympathy, a rare display of emotion from him.

"It's alright, Y/N," he says, gently guiding you into his embrace. "I know what it's like to miss someone. Even sorcerers lose their loved ones."

His arms wrap around you, comforting you in a way that is both unexpected and welcome. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart meld with the rhythm of your own, creating a temporary haven from the world.

The tears you've been holding back finally spill over, the weight of your sorrows lightening with each drop. In this moment, your monkey status ceases to matter, and you're simply the non-sorcerer girl he loves the most.

As tears stream down your face, your fingers tighten around his gojogesa. When you finally glance up, you're met with Geto's unexpectedly kind gaze. "You know.. I'm a bit like your mother too, don't you think?" he gently suggests. You shake your head, unable to comprehend. He then adopts a playful pout, asking, "Why do you need your mother when you have me?"

You wipe your tears, your fingers leaving damp trails across your face. Caught off guard by the kindness in Suguru's eyes, you hesitate before responding.

Your thoughts whirl, searching for an answer to his question. "I don't know," you admit, your voice small and unsure. "It's just..." Your words trail off, unable to articulate the feelings that bind you to your mother.

Suguru pouts, a childish expression that softens the severity of his features. His gaze remains fixed on you, waiting for you to continue.

Your gaze lingers on his chest, drawn to the unseen nipples beneath the fabric. You swallow, a faint blush creeping up your neck. Your eyes focusing on the area you've found out, your curiosity piqued by the hardened nubs nestled beneath his clothing. Swallowing hard, you gather your courage and ask, "Can I touch these?"

He chuckles, the sound pleasant in your ears. Suguru unties the sash of his gojogesa, letting it fall open to reveal his bare chest. "Go ahead," he encourages, his voice low and commanding.

At first, you hesitate, the proximity to his skin making you feel self-conscious. Slowly, you reach out, your fingers trembling as they brush against his nipples. The sensitivity of the flesh causes his body to shudder.

Encouraged by his reaction, you apply gentle pressure, watching as his nipples react to your touch. They harden further, a stark contrast against his smooth skin.

Suguru's eyes close, the pleasure evident in the soft moan that escapes his lips. His chest rises and falls with every breath, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming.

Your curiosity leads you to act without thinking, your lips capturing one of his nipples. The sudden warmth and wetness surprise Suguru, his hand instinctively moving to caress your hair.

He holds back a surprised laugh, allowing you to continue. As you suck gently, his breathing deepens, his body reacting to the unanticipated stimuli. The sensation of your mouth against his nipple proves to be more sensitive than he'd imagined, and he can feel the stirrings of arousal in his loins.

His cock starts to swell, the fabric of his clothes straining to contain it. The hardening flesh presses against your thigh, a testament to your newfound skill.

Suguru's hold on your hair tightens, the pleasure coursing through his body making it difficult to form coherent thoughts.

The sensation of his erection sends a thrill up your spine, causing you to giggle sheepishly. Suguru returns your laughter with a smirk, his eyes heavy with desire. With quick movements, he pulls your top off, revealing your own breasts.

His large hands cup your breasts, fingers tracing circles around your nipples. You squirm under his touch, attempting to dislodge his hands. But his grip is firm, refusing to let go.

"Why did you stop?" he asks, his voice low and commanding, tinged with a hint of playfulness. "Don't you want to feel what I am feeling?"

The question piques your curiosity, and you press your mouth back onto his nipple. As you suckle, Suguru mirrors your actions, dragging his fingers across the other nipple. They continue to toy with your hardening nubs, the sensations building with each stroke.

The rhythmic and insistent play continues, both of you immersed in the dance of pleasure. The intensity escalates, culminating in a sharp intake of breath from Suguru as he reaches his climax.

His fingers tighten around your nipples pulling and pinching them, his seed spilling onto his clothes. The sudden combination of pleasure and pain from his grip makes you nibble on his nipple, the dual sensations intoxicating.

As the waves of ecstasy subside, both of you pull back, panting from the intensity of the encounter.

Bashful, you hide your face in his chest, the intimacy of the situation leaving you flushed and breathless. Suguru's fingers trail along your spine, a gentle caress that soothes your nerves.

In the moment of quiet, he asks, "Do you still miss your mom?"

Your voice is soft, tinged with a hint of sincerity as you respond, "N-no... not that much. Not when you're around."

A gentle chuckle emanates from his chest, and you can't help but join in. The shared laughter is a moment of vulnerability, healing the longing you have for your mother.

◈ RYOMEN SUKUNA

Today is Mother's Day, and the emptiness of missing your mother looms over you like a dark cloud. You feel lost, and the void inside your heart seems to stretch and grow, making you lash out in frustration. Uraume tries to comfort you, but it's no use. You're consumed by your sadness, and you begin to yell and scream, throwing a tantrum.

"WHERE IS DAD!" you cry out, your voice raw with emotion. Uraume, sensing your distress, tries to follow you, their small hands reaching out to you as if to calm you down. But you're too lost in your grief, and you keep running, your feet carrying you further and further away from the comfort of the temple.

You don't notice where you're going, your emotions driving you forward. Suddenly, you collide with a solid surface, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of you. As you regain your breath, you look up to find Sukuna squinting down at you, his expression unreadable.

"What did I tell you about screaming?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous. His four arms fold across his chest, and his eyes bore into yours, waiting for an explanation.

You frown, tears streaming down your face, "D-dad," you start slowly, your voice cracking. "I want my mom too, Uraume can't be my mom, I need my real mom. I'm so, so lonely." Your words come out in a rush, the weight of your emotions too heavy to bear alone.

Uraume sighs heavily as they approach Sukuna, their small hands fidgeting with their robes. "Lord Sukuna, she has been throwing her tantrums the whole day. I am tired now... you have to take care of her now," Uraume complains, their voice heavy with exhaustion.

Sukuna nods, his eyes never leaving you. He reaches down, his four arms wrapping around you, easily lifting you from your feet. You continue to throw your tantrums, hitting his back as hard as you can with your fists, but he remains stoic, unperturbed by your outburst.

As he carries you to his room, your sobs slowly die down, replaced by heavy, shaky breaths. Once inside, he gently sets you down on the bed, his eyes never leaving you.

"Listen, brat," he begins, his voice stern but laced with a hint of concern. "You don't get to throw tantrums just because you're my child."

But before he can finish, your emotions get the better of you again, and hot tears spill over your cheeks, tracking down your face. You bury your face against his chest, your body shaking with each sob.

Sukuna's eyes soften, and he kneels down beside the bed, allowing you to hide against his hard, muscular form. "Now now, don't cry, brat. I'm not scolding you. I'm just trying to-"

But his words are cut off as you suddenly latch onto one of his nipples, your lips wrapping around it, sucking it into your mouth. You cling to him, your grip tenacious.

Sukuna watches you for a moment, a mixture of surprise and amusement flashing across his features. His hand reaches up to gently stroke your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as you continue to suckle on his nipple.

"Ah, that feels nice, brat," he says, his voice a low rumble. He pulls back slightly, giving you better access to his chest. "Do you want to suckle like this, little one?"

You nod, cheeks drying as you continue to suck on his nipple, your mouth warm and wet against his skin. Sukuna relaxes, settling onto the bed, and you nestle against him, your body finally still as you find comfort in this primitive act. In the dimly lit room, you hold on to Sukuna, his heartbeat slow and steady beneath your cheek. As you nurse on his nipple, the sadness that had gripped you earlier begins to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and security.

As you cling to him, your body still, you finally muster up the courage to ask, your voice small and muffled against his chest. "Daddy, can you... can you milk?"

Sukuna can't help but let out a booming laugh at your request, the sound echoing through the room. "You're missing your mother so much, huh?" he chuckles, the sound soft and amused. "I'm not her, so I cannot milk.."

He leans down to kiss the top of your head, his lips warm against your skin. "Go back to sleep now. You'll feel better tomorrow. And I promise, I'm not leaving you."

He nestles you closer, his strong arms wrapping around you, and you snuggle into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body, the beat of his heart, and the safety of his presence. His voice is a soothing lullaby, and soon, your eyes grow heavy, your body drifting off to sleep.

Sukuna's other arms wrap around you, his fingers gently massaging your back. "There, there," he coos, his deep voice soothing you further. "You're safe with me, little one."

The night stretches on, and you continue to suckle, slowly drifting off to sleep, your body lulled by the rhythm of his heartbeat and the comfort of his touch. For now, the emptiness of missing your mother fades into the background, replaced by the love and protection of Sukuna.

◈ SHIU KONG

The day drags on, your spirits dampened by the weight of your sadness. Today, of all days, feels like a cruel reminder of your loss. The celebration of motherhood is a painful sting, a wound that's reopened by the simple act of remembering.

Shiu senses the shift in your demeanour, his eyes sympathetic as he joins you on the couch, throwing his half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray. You're lost in your thoughts, staring blankly at the TV screen, when he speaks, breaking the silence. "It's a tough day, isn't it?" His voice is gentle, a stark contrast to the usual tone of authority.

You nod, your eyes brimming with unshed tears as you clutch a pillow close to your chest. "I miss her," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. The pain of losing your mother is a constant companion, one that fades with time but never truly disappears.

Shiu's response is immediate, his arms wrapping around you once more, pulling you onto his lap. His hand strokes your hair, an attempt to soothe the ruffled feathers of your heart. His kisses dot your forehead, a tender display of affection.

"I love you," he says, his voice soft and sincere. The words carry a depth of emotion, a promise that despite the circumstances, you are not alone. "Baby, I can do your mom and dad both, okay? Come on, what will make you feel better?"

Your gaze falls on his chest, his nipples pressing against his shirt, the sight momentarily distracting you from your sorrow.

Your hand hesitates, hovering over his chest for a moment before rising, your fingers tentatively brushing against his nipples. Shiu's eyes follow your movement, a hint of confusion coloring his expression.

The words tumble out, pleading and vulnerable, "Can I… will you let… me suck on them, please?" The request is unexpected, a confession of a secret desire, born from a place of grief and yearning.

Shiu's eyes widen, a perplexed expression crossing his features. However, he recovers quickly, nodding as he sits up, pulling his shirt over his head. His chest is revealed, smooth and toned, his nipples a darker hue against the pale skin. "Alright, go ahead. If that will make you miss your mom less."

His words linger in the air, the consent given, the door now open to your desire.

Your heart races as you lean forward, your lips parting as they close over one of the hard nubs. Your tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive tip, the sensation of skin against your mouth unlike anything you've experienced before.

The taste of him, faint and slightly salty, is a shock to your senses, your mind hazy with the exploration of new territory. As you focus on the task, the ache of missing your mother begins to fade, replaced by a newfound sensation of comfort and intimacy.

The act is strange and all-consuming, your fingers tangled in the fabric of Shiu's pants, the sensation of your lips and tongue on his nipple sending shivers down his spine. His breath hitches, the unexpected turn of events stirring something within him.

His hand rests on your head, gently guiding you as you explore, the touch a mixture of reassuring and possessive. Shiu's body tenses, the involuntary reaction to the sensation you're providing.

The room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you, connected by the intimate act, the chasm of your loss temporarily bridged by the strange comfort found in the act.

His voice comes out gruff, a mixture of embarrassment and awe in his tone. The admission is unexpected, revealing a side to him you've never seen.

You watch him, unblinking, sensing the shift in his demeanor. The layers of authority and strictness seem to falter for a moment, replaced by vulnerability.

"It's okay," he reassures you, his hand caressing your head gently once more. "It's just, you're awakening feelings I haven't felt in a long time." The confession is startling, the admission opening a door to a world previously unexplored.

The implications of his words swirl in your mind, the weight of the admission leaving you feeling a little shaky. The intimacy between the two of you deepens, the shared secret a bond unlike any other.

You continue your exploration, the newfound knowledge fueling your curiosity, the two of you falling further into the abyss of your connection.

As you continue your sensual ministrations, you become aware of Shiu's attempts to thrust his hips against you, a silent plea for more. Your curiosity piqued, you release his nipple from your mouth, your hands deftly navigating the path to his growing erection.

The feel of his hardness in your hand is electrifying, your fingers curling around the base, your thumb stroking the sensitive head. Your lips return to his nipple as your hand works in tandem, the dual stimulation driving him wild.

His breath hitches, his body arching into your touch, the restraint he's been exerting slipping. Shiu's whimpers fill the room, his need for release palpable. His fingers bury themselves in your hair, clinging to you as you drive him closer to the edge.

Finally, it happens. His body shudders, his hips bucking into your hand as he comes, the warmth of his seed coating your skin. A wave of relief washes over him, his grip loosening as he slumps back into the couch.

You release his nipple, your lips wet from your actions, your hand cradling his spent length. The intimacy of the act hangs heavy in the air, the boundaries you've crossed looming in the aftermath.

The scene is one of vulnerability, a shared secret now binding the two of you in a way that was previously unimaginable. The intensity of the moment is palpable, a new world opened by your exploration, your actions irrevocably changing the dynamic between you and Shiu.

◈ HIGURUMA HIROMI

You're sitting in your room, the dim light of dusk seeping through the curtains, painting shadows on the walls. Today, Mother's Day, should be brimming with warmth and love, but instead, it feels hollow and icy.

To compound matters, Hiromi, your stepfather, who should be offering solace, is absent too, absorbed in his work as usual. You know he's out there, tackling cases, serving justice to others, but in doing so, he's left you here, isolated, submerged in sadness. While a part of you comprehends his dedication to his job, right now, all you can feel is fury and bitterness.

You want to unleash your frustration on him, to question why he's not by your side, why he's prioritizing work over family on such an important day. But instead, you find yourself curled up on your bed, tears streaming down your face, the pain in your heart escalating with each passing second.

Hiromi returns home, greeted by an eerie silence. Something about it unsettles him, and he makes his way to your room, curiosity piqued. The moment he opens the door, he hears your quiet sobs, and his steps falter.

"Y/N?" he calls softly, his heart beginning to race.

You're curled up on your bed, tears streaming down your face, your posture tense with anger and sadness. Hiromi hurriedly rushes over and wraps his arms around you, lifting you gently from the bed in a warm embrace.

Your tiny hands attempt to push him away, your voice trembling with emotion.. "Put me downn! Leave me alone!"

Hiromi sets you back on your feet, but he doesn't move away. He waits, giving you space to compose yourself. "Why, baby?" he asks gently. "Why are you crying?"

You glare at him, wiping your nose roughly with the back of your hand. "Tis' mother's day, and you were not here for me." The words come out harshly, your tone betraying the vulnerability beneath. "It's not fair. No one ever thinks about me."

Hiromi's heart aches as he listens to your accusations. He reaches for you, gently pulling you close once more. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely, his voice a soft murmur against your hair. "I should have been here with you."

You tense up at his touch, unsure whether to lean into him or resist. He waits patiently, giving you time to process your emotions. "I know today is a difficult day," Hiromi continues, his arms still wrapped around you. "But I'm here now. Let me make it up to you."

Hiromi takes off his suit and crawls into bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you lay on your side. "I'm really sorry for not being here for you today. I promise to make it up to you from now on."

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, then another to your temple. His lips trail down your neck, and he inhales deeply, taking in your scent. His words are a soothing whisper against your skin.

"I love you, and I'm always here for you, even when I'm not. You're my little girl, and I want to protect and care for you, always."

As he continues to shower you in affection, your anger starts to dissipate, replaced by a warmth in your chest. An idea forms in your mind, one that surprises even you. "Can I suck them, Daddy?" You point to Hiromi's nipples, catching him off guard.

His eyes widen, but there's a flicker of curiosity and desire in them. "I should take a shower before," he says, attempting to brush off your request.

Without giving him time to change his mind, you're already leaning forward, unbottoning his shirt, your tongue already tracing circles around one of his nipples. He's caught off guard by your boldness, but it's clear he's enjoying the sensation.

Hiromi's hand threads through your hair, fingers sifting through the soft strands as you lavish attention on his nipple. "Mmm, Y/N..," he breathes out, his voice thick with pleasure. "S-shit" His other hand slides down your back, his fingers kneading your flesh and pressing you closer to him. You smile against his skin, feeling in control for once.

As you continue to lavish attention on his nipple, you can't help but feel a jolt of satisfaction from the way he arches into your touch. His chest rises and falls with heavier breaths, signs of arousal that spur you on.

Hiromi's hand tightens in your hair, his grip firm yet gentle. "Is this my punishment?," he whispers, his tone laced with playful admonishment. "But I can't deny I enjoy this."

Determined to make him suffer your playful punishment, you suck harder on Hiromi's nipple, nibbling on it gently. His moan fills the room, and you can't help but smirk against his skin.

"Fine, fine," he gasps, his voice thick with desire. "You win. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll take a day off just to spend it with you."

A triumphant smile spreads across your face as you pull away from his chest. Hiromi's admission of defeat is all the reward you need. "I'll be back after taking a shower," he tells you, his voice a sultry rumble.

Pouting, you lay back down on the bed, your mind already racing with ideas for the day he's promised you. You can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the thought of spending an entire day with your stepdad.

As Hiromi heads to the shower, his thoughts aren't as chaste as they should be. The way you'd worshipped his nipple, sucking and nibbling, has left him aroused. He tries to quell his erection, his hand wrapping tightly around his cock.

His other hand moves to his nipples, lightly pinching them as he strokes himself. The shower's warm spray hits him, and Hiromi lets out a ragged sigh, giving into the pleasure as he continues to stroke himself, each motion a reenactment of the sensations you'd provided. He moans, his hips bucking slightly as he paints the shower tiles with his release.

Once he's cleaned up, Hiromi steps out of the shower, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He finds you sleeping peacefully in bed, a sight that fills him with affection.

Carefully, he dresses, then crawls into bed. Wrapping his arms around you, Hiromi rests his chin on top of your head, breathing in your scent. His body is lulled into a deep slumber by the soft rise and fall of your chest against his.

The thought of leaving you again is no longer an option. The memory of your playful punishment lingers, a reminder of how much it meant to you to have his undivided attention. Hiromi vows to make the most of the day he's promised you, never daring to leave you alone again on such a precious day.

◈ CHOSO KAMO

Choso was in the middle of his usual routine when he heard your soft sobs. He drops everything and rushes to you, finding you in tears. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you.

You tell him that it's Mother's Day today and that you miss your mother. He feels your pain, and his heart aches for you. "You miss your mom, huh?"

He cradles you close, cooing softly as you cry into his chest. "It's okay to miss her. I do too, you know. She was a great woman." Choso strokes your hair, trying to calm your sobs. "She'd want us to be happy and continue living our lives." Even his eyes well up with tears, but he holds them back.

When you finally stop crying, Choso leads you to your room, a comforting smile on his face. "Alright, sleep baby. It's night time, and you need to rest."

He turns to leave, but you stop him with your request, "P-please stay with me tonight".

Choso's eyes soften as he understands your need for comfort. "Of course. I'll stay with you tonight, little one."

He lies down beside you, making sure you're tucked in and comfortable. He wraps an arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip, giving you the feeling of security. "Go to sleep. Daddy's right here," he whispers, closing his eyes to keep vigil over you while you drift off to dreamless slumber. He's never felt so protective and nurturing towards another person, but he's always willing to do it for your sake.

Afte a while, you turn to face Choso, seeing him awake as well. He notices your distress and gently caresses your head. "Not sleeping yet?" His voice is soft and comforting, trying to reassure you.

You shake your head, admitting that you can't fall asleep. Choso cups your face, looking you straight in the eye. "Come on, baby. You don't need anybody else when I'm here. You're safe, and I'll always protect you." He tries to sing softly, but it's more of a hum. Your laughter at his attempt to serenade you makes Choso blush, and you kiss him on the cheek, your hands roaming his chest.

The thin fabric of his shirt reveals hardened nipples, and you can't help but notice. "They're hardening," you whisper, your fingers brushing over them. Choso's eyes widen, unsure of what you're referring to. "What?"

You grin at his confusion, leaning in closer. "Your nipples." With that, you take one into your mouth, sucking gently through his thin shirt. Choso gasps, the unexpected sensation sending shivers down his spine. "Y/N..." he murmurs, unsure of how to react. He's never experienced anything like this before, and your intrusive thoughts have led to a new discovery between the two of you. Choso's body is reacting in ways he doesn't fully understand, but his protectiveness and care for you haven't wavered.

Choso's cock twitches as he lets out a soft moan, whimpering like a baby at the sensation. You're enticed by his reaction, pushing his top away to suck his nipple directly. He arches his back, a string of curses escaping his lips. "G-goddammit, fuck! Hngh!" His body tenses as he accidentally cums in his pants, panting heavily.

Surprised by his reaction, you straddle him and continue sucking his nipples, your hands stroking his slicky shaft, now free from his pants. Choso gasps, feeling a heightened sensitivity. "Baby, no more. I get it. You miss your mom. Now stop," he whimpers, his hands attempting to pull you off. His efforts are in vain.

You continue to play with his cum-covered cock and lick his neck, moving back to his nipples. Sucking them as if you're a milk pump, you enjoy the reaction you're getting from Choso. His body writhes underneath you, a mix of pleasure and discomfort.

He's never experienced anything like this, and the intense emotions he's feeling are growing. Despite his attempts to stop you, he's also enjoying your attention, the line between pain and pleasure blurred.

Choso's hips thrust against your hand as his fingers wraps around your head, urging you to suck his nipples harder. Your other hand pinches his other nipple, tease his earlobes. The sensory overload is too much, causing him to cum again, this time all over your hand.

You pull your mouth away, both of you breathing heavily. You giggle, feeling a sense of satisfaction from your actions. Choso looks at you, panting, as if you're a devilish baby. He can't help but laugh along with you, the tension breaking.

You both collapse into each other, exhausted and satisfied. The night air envelops you as you fall into a deep sleep, the events of the night unfolding a new connection between Choso and you. His protectiveness has blossomed into something deeper, subtly changing the dynamic between the two of you.

dividers from @/cafekitsune

[rafecameronssl4t]

Happy house || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: just a cute fic of the Cameron family being one big happy family and infatuated with you and Rafe’s daughter 🥰

Warnings: breastfeeding (?) apart from that this is all fluff

Word count: 1388

A/n: this was so cute to write 🥹🥹 loved writing the fact that the Cameron family is tight-knit and love one another

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider be @yoonitos

“Got everything?” Rafe glanced back at you, his hands full with bags laden with mostly Mabel’s things. You hummed contentedly, one hand gently adjusting the bucket hat on Mabel’s head while her plushy little hands playfully reached for your face, her giggles filling the air.

“We’re not late are we?” You called out as the two of you boarded the Cameron’s luxurious yacht. “Hmm? Not really, they can wait,” Rafe grinned, glancing around as you shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “They’re here! They’re here!” Wheezie’s voice echoed excitedly from above deck, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps rushing towards you.

You shared an amused glance with Rafe as he shook his head affectionately. “Wheezie, slow down!” Sarah’s voice called out in a mixture of exasperation and amusement, just before Wheezie came bounding around the corner, closely followed by Sarah, Rose, and Ward.

“Hey!” You greeted them warmly, arms open for hugs all around. Wheezie and Ward gravitated towards you and Mabel, their faces lighting up at the sight of the youngest Cameron family member.

Wheezie squealed, bouncing up and down in excitement as she gently pinched Mabel’s cheek. “Hey, easy there,” Rafe interjected firmly, earning a glare from his younger sister, though you couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s okay, Rafe, she’s being gentle,” you reassured him with an affectionate smile, his protective nature endearing as always. “Wanna take her, dad?” you offered to Ward, who nodded eagerly. “May I?” he asked softly, reaching out to cradle Mabel in his arms.

“Of course you can, she’s your granddaughter,” you chuckled, leaning in closer as Mabel reached out to Ward, her little arms outstretched in anticipation. You moved closer to Rafe’s side, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you in close. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his voice low with admiration as he whispered, “They all look so happy.”

Jesus, Sarah. Stop shoving your phone in her face,” Rafe groaned, his tone edged with mild annoyance as he watched Sarah snap yet another 0.5 photo of Mabel. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the sight, knowing that it was always Sarah’s candid photos of Mabel that Rafe eventually looked back on with a chuckle.

“Send them to me,” you mouthed to Sarah, who winked in response, both of you giggling like schoolgirls. “What are you giggling about, hmm?” Rafe asked, looking down at you with a smile, his irritation quickly fading. “Nothing, nothing,” you said, your smile widening. “Just excited to get to the island and have lunch together as a family again.”

Rafe’s smile softened, appreciating how much you valued these family moments. Before he could say more, Rose chimed in, glancing at her watch. “Okay, I think we should move this upstairs, don’t you think?” she suggested. Everyone agreed, and the group began making their way up to the spacious upper deck. The Bahamas sun was bright overhead, casting a warm glow over the yacht.

“You know, if you ever need a babysitter, I’m right here,” Wheezie offered, linking her arm through yours as you ascended the stairs. She batted her eyelashes playfully, making you giggle at her antics. Rafe, close behind, scoffed. “Yeah, as if I’m letting you look after my kid by yourself.”

Wheezie rolled her eyes dramatically. “And why not?” Rafe gave her an incredulous look. “Remember the time you almost burnt down the house because you wanted to heat up chicken nuggets in the microwave?” Wheezie huffs, “That’s not fair!” She protests, her cheeks flushing. “I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to put metal in the microwave!”

Your jaw dropped in mock horror as you imagined the scene. “Exactly,” Rafe said, patting Wheezie’s head with a teasing smile. “You’re not looking after Mabel by yourself. End of story.” He walked away, leaving Wheezie pouting with her arms folded. You squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Maybe you can help out when I’m around,” you suggested, trying to lift her spirits. Wheezie perked up a bit, her eyes brightening at the idea. “Deal!” she said, grinning.

~

“Guys! You have to tan with me, the UV rays are insane right now!” Sarah called out from one of the outdoor loungers, her phone in hand as she checked the weather app. “I’ll be right there!” you shouted back, finishing up changing Mabel’s clothes. You handed her to Rose and Ward, who eagerly took over entertaining their granddaughter with coos and smiles.

Rafe trailed behind you, intrigued by the idea of getting some sun. He settled next to you on the lounger, stretching out and letting the warmth of the sun wash over him.“How are your boobs not saggy?” Sarah suddenly blurted out as she watches you tie up your hair, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Sarah!” Rafe hissed, shooting her a disapproving look.“Shit, sorry. Is that a bad thing to ask?” Sarah’s face flushed slightly, realizing the bluntness of her question. You couldn’t help but laugh, finding the situation amusing. Sarah joined in, her laughter a bit more nervous.

“I’m just asking. All my friends said that your boobs begin to sag because your baby is always sucking on them,” she explained, pushing her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. “Which one of your friends has a fucking baby at your age?” Rafe interjected, his expression one of pure disbelief.

“None of them. They were just saying that,” Sarah shrugged nonchalantly. You giggled, reaching over to rub sunscreen on Rafe’s face where he’d missed a spot. “I think it’s different for everyone. I mean, I hope mine don’t sag,” you said, glancing down at your chest and giving them a light, playful touch.

“You have such nice tits, it’s really unfair, ” Sarah sighed dramatically, leaning back and closing her eyes against the sun. Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly done with the conversation. “I’m putting my AirPods in,” he announced, inserting them with a huff as you and Sarah chuckled.

~

“Mabel, come here,” Rafe clapped his hands with a gentle yet encouraging tone. Mabel babbled happily, steadying herself before taking a few small, determined steps towards you and Rafe; you were nestled against his chest as you cheered her on.

“Keep coming, sweetie,” you cooed softly, your hands ready to catch her. Eventually, Mabel reached you and crashed into your waiting arms with a squeal. You kissed her chubby cheek affectionately, “Good job, baby girl!” You lifted her up in the air, as she squealed with joy.

Rafe took the moment to take a photo, capturing the pure happiness on both your faces. As Rafe looked through the many photos already taken, you couldn’t help but notice how Mabel lingered close to your chest.

“Are you hungry, bels?” You asked gently, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. Glancing at your phone, you noticed it was about time for Mabel’s next feeding.

With Rafe still focused on his phone, a small smile gracing his lips as he looked through the photos of you and Mabel, you adjusted your bikini top and began to nurse Mabel.

Noticing the quietness, Rafe briefly looks down, his eyes widening slightly. “Jesus, kid,” he muttered under his breath, quickly reaching behind him to grab his shirt.

“What? Mabel was hungry,” you said innocently, as Mabel peers up to the both of you. Rafe didn’t mind you breastfeeding in public, if his baby girl was hungry, she was hungry. But he always made sure to help you cover up with a blanket when you puly down your top, his protective instincts kicking in.

Rafe’s gaze darted around, making sure no one was watching. “You should’ve let me know beforehand so I could’ve helped you cover up,” he murmured, adjusting the shirt and to peek at Mabel.

You chuckled softly, appreciating his concern and love. Mabel watched the two of you with wide, curious eyes as she nursed contentedly. "Next time I will," you assured him, reaching over to pat his thigh affectionately.

yourusername

Liked by itssarahcameron, christoper_thorton, rosejcameron and 85,208 others

@/rafemfcameron we’ve got the cutest baby 🥰

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rafemfcameron: damn right mamas

↘️ eloise_cameron: I just puked 🤢

↘️ rafemfcameron: throwing u off the boat

itssarahcameron: SQUISHY

↘️ rafemfcameron: are you calling my kid fat?

↘️ yourusername: HAHAHAHAHA

christoper_thorton: guys let me babysit her again

↘️ yourusername: you tried offering her one of your brownies top….

↘️ rafemfcameron: im sorry, he did what?

[luveline]

𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐳, 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect. fem, 5k 

ditzy-ish reader, pining eddie, mutual pining, confessions, first kisses, fluff and hugging, idiots in love, mild states of undress

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

It’s a day fit for a funeral in Hawkins. Rain hammers his bedroom window like hailstones, plinking against the frame, condensation running down the panes in thick rivulets he soaks up with an old t-shirt. 

It’s supposed to be spring time. Green grass, flowers, a gentle humming sun to warm the back of his neck while he sits out on the couch on the porch, a hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers, the tip shimmering with heat. 

But the rain pours. He’s cleaned his room for the first time in a month, at least, and his back aches in the best way as he lays down amongst fresh sheets. His room feels strange when it’s organised, but he doesn’t mind. He pictures the state of it through a second pair of eyes. This is a boy who cares about things, who takes care of them, who could take care of me, too. 

Rain again rackets on the metal roof above. He and Wayne keep a couple hundred bucks stashed for the day the roof flies straight off —they take turns hiding it, because cars break down and groceries get more expensive every year, but god will they need it, and so they safeguard it well. 

He syphoned a little of the money recently with Wayne’s support. It was for a good cause. 

“Jesus,” Eddie murmurs to himself, not tired but feeling dull as the clouds outside eat the remaining sun. 

It’s depressing to be poor, and to lose a day trying to hide the evidence of an entire life in a small room. He could sleep a hundred years. 

He’s just finished pulling the sheets over his shoulder when somebody knocks on the front door. Wayne opens it three rooms away, the sound of the rain doubled. 

He gives a startling shout, “Ed! Your girl!” 

Eddie topples out of bed. Doesn’t mean to, foot caught in the bottom of the sheets and stuck as he scrambles to slide out of the mess. He’s begged Wayne not to call you that when you’re within earshot, but Wayne’s a mean (kind) old bastard (middle aged dad) who wants Eddie dead (happy, and in love). 

“Come on in, girl. You’re soaking.” 

“It’s raining.” 

“It’s pouring down. Did you walk here?” 

“Took my bike. Thought I’d get struck by lightning in the car.” 

“How’d you figure?” 

Eddie goes to grab the door handle and spins on his heel, staggering onto his bed and up against the wall, where a mirrored tray once used by Dio himself for rolling hangs from the wall. He checks his face in the polished surface, his warped mouth and nose, too small eyes, and swears to himself that one day he’ll get a real mirror with a fully-functioning reflective surface. 

Then he hops down off of the bed, causing a reverberation he knows traverses the entirety of the trailer floor. Eddie snatches a rare clean towel from his laundry chair and speeds down the hall. 

“Hello,” he says, more casual than he feels to find you unexpectedly in his house. “You’re soaked.” 

You give a sweet smile. “It’s raining out, did you not know?” 

Your hair is dripping, water racing down the curves of your face to collect at your chin. Eddie can see the smudges of your makeup where it’s washing off as he wraps a towel around you, kohl on your cheeks, eyelashes turned to half-diamonds and sticky-looking. You grin at being covered, taking the towel from his fingers before he can dab you dry. 

“Why didn’t you just call me?”’

“I can never remember if your phone number ends in three or four.” 

“Seven. I wrote it down for you a hundred times.” 

You rub your eyes and spread all manner of glitter and shadow over your skin. You wipe your neck and the glitter spreads like an alien rash. 

When you talk next, you shiver, “I lost it a hundred times, sorry. Is it okay that I'm here?” 

Wayne, who’s been watching with a distinct sense of amusement from the couch, lets out a chesty laugh. “Honey, it’s always okay that you’re here on my account. And it’s my house.” 

“It’s fine.” Eddie turns your shoulder so he can mouth over it without being caught. Asshole. 

Another laugh follows. Eddie would cut each of his fingers from his hand and then his hand from his wrist if it were something Wayne needed him to do, but that doesn’t make him any less of an opportunistic asshole. If there’s a way to fuck with Eddie, he tends to try it. He loves Eddie with all the tenacity of a father who loves his son, but Wayne got infected with little bitch disease or something and Eddie can’t cure it. 

“Can I please wash my face? I didn’t expect to get soaked.” 

“Didn’t you?” He regrets his flippancy quickly, leading you down the hall. “You could take a shower. What do you think?” 

You’ve never showered here, but Eddie’s trying to, you know, date you. Romance you, get to cherish you, however anyone wants to say it. And it’s not a war of attrition, just a natural escalation of sharing, or a minimising of boundaries. 

No, that’s pervy, isn’t it? 

“I mean–” He starts to correct himself. 

You interrupt with your answer, “Yes, please, do you think I could? But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I have your purple hoodie in my room, and there’s gotta be a pair of sweatpants here that fit you,” he says. 

They’ve got a whole bunch of clothes here that floated in from somewhere else, Eddie’s other friends or stuff they’ve bought by mistake. He’s sure he can find something.

“You have my hoodie?” you ask, black kohl spreading across the towel as you wipe your cheek. 

Eddie only smelled it one time. When he’d realised you left it in his van he brought it in and folded it, waiting for the next time he’d see you to give it back, but that night he’d been getting out of the shower wondering if he could call you or if that was too soon, and your hoodie had been right there. So he stood there in his pyjama pants with his wet hair and he didn’t think about picking your hoodie up, he just did, and when he pressed it to his face it still smelled of your perfume. 

He put it back and felt like a loser for days.

“It’s in my closet, you left it in the van Monday,” he explains quickly, nudging you through the doorway of the bathroom. 

The Munson bathroom is teeny tiny but not unnavigable. There’s a shower pressed to the far wall that could squeeze in two people, their toilet to the right, a sink basin opposite that with a medicine cabinet and just enough room for a dirty laundry box that’s always, always full. 

Eddie opens the shower and turns it on. “It takes a while to get really hot but then it’s not hot for long, sorry. There’s my shampoo if you want it, and soap, and body wash. Sorry, none of it is super girly.” 

“Sorry sorry,” you say, pretending to hit him in the stomach. “What’s with all the sorries, handsome? I can’t wait to smell like a boy.” 

The way you say it. Eddie doesn’t know what it is, but it’s why he’s crazy about you. 

Probably shouldn’t tell you that as you're taking off your jacket, though. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says. 

Eddie heads out of the bathroom to their skinny linen cabinet hidden in the hallway. He grabs the last two towels from the middle shelf and takes pause, fabric starchy in his hands. Just be normal, he thinks, a pep talk from Eddie to Eddie. She hangs out with you all the time for a reason. She held your hand at the movies. 

Eddie’s in better spirits when he remembers that. Your hand in his, your ring pushing his ring further down his finger, your cheek touching his shoulder as you’d leaned in and asked if he wanted some of your popcorn. 

He opens the door without thinking, shower pattering against the perspex wall, your legs crossing tightly as he enters, turning yourself away from him.

“Woah!” you say, laughing.

“Holy crap.” The image of your red underwear immediately stamps itself into his mind as he pulls the door shut between you. They were really cute, red and white gingham, showcasing just the slightest curve of your– “I told you I was coming back!” 

“I thought you’d knock!” you laugh. “Sorry I flashed you. At least I had my shirt on.” 

At least, he thinks wryly, shoving his arm through the gap in the door, heavy towels pulling at his fingers. His head’s about to snap off, it's turned so far away from the door’s opening. “Here.” 

“If you wanna see me naked so bad you can just ask,” you tease. 

“Take the towels, loser.” 

You take the towels and he closes the door, preventing any more accidental creeping, and giving himself a reprieve. Gingham underwear. Wavy lettuce edgings kissing your skin. 

Holy fuck. Being a person is so lame, Eddie thinks. He wants to have a crush on you purely, and yet seeing the way you’d crossed your legs to hide from him, smiling, he can’t not think about kissing you —touching you. If he doesn’t get you laid out in his bed soon for some slow kissing he’s not gonna make it.

Eddie opens the strip vent above his window and prays it doesn’t flood his whole room. Clean, it doesn’t look half bad, he could bring you in here respectfully, you could stay the night without fearing for your life. 

You take a quick shower. He’s barely gotten over his nerves when you’re walking into his room, a towel around you, not a hint of shyness about you. 

“You didn’t bring me anything to wear,” you explain. 

Eddie just stares at you. 

“Eddie?” You wrap the towel tighter. “Come on, you’re staring at me.”

“Sorry.” His mouth is bone dry. 

“You have my hoodie, right? Just need some pants.” You cross your arm tightly across your chest. “I don’t usually notice when people are staring at me.”

“You aren’t usually naked in my room,” he says, genuinely and embarrassingly apologetic. 

“I’m not naked. Come on, please? Do I have to wait outside the door?” you ask with a laugh. 

Eddie stands up. Shakes his head hard, almost trips over himself trying to get to his dresser. He decides honesty will be best at this point, lest you think he has only one thing on his mind, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just in my head about something and I wasn’t expecting you to come out like that. It’s not right. You’re just… you’re really pretty.” 

“Thank you.” He can’t see you, sorting quickly through his middle drawer and all his miscellaneous pants for a pair he’s sure would fit, if he could just remember where it was. “What are you in your head about?” 

“What?” 

“Eddie, are you okay?” 

“No, no,” he moans, rubbing his face with his hand, ring scratching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not okay, princess, I’m overheating or something, Jesus Christ.” He finally lays eyes on the sweatpants he’d been thinking of, grabs your hoodie from the top shelf and drops them both at the end of the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“I don’t have any underwear.” 

“And that’s something I can’t fix,” he says, leaving the room in a hurry. 

Eddie gets to the living room and keels over. His hair falls in his face, his shirt slides down his back. What the fuck is wrong with him? 

Wayne, sliding his shoes on in the recliner, gives a start. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie lifts his head, yanking hair from his face, the skin of his under eyes pulled down harshly. “Oh my god.”

Wayne wrinkles his nose. 

“No ones ever been such a pathetic excuse for a man before,” Eddie says. 

“Your dad’s in jail,” Wayne points out. “And not for the impressive stuff.”

“I’m pathetic.” 

“You’re fine. You’re not supposed to be not pathetic, you’re twenty.” 

“I’m twenty one.” 

“The extra year doesn’t mean much. I know you think you’re all grown up, but you’re still an idiot.” 

Wayne stands and shrugs on the jacket laying over the armrest. 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

“I thought you were definitely gonna ask her?” Wayne asks knowingly. That’s what Eddie told him, after all. “Next time I see her, Wayne, I’m asking her to go steady.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “You can’t leave.” 

“Eddie.” Wayne gestures for Eddie to stop slouching like some fiend from a bad horror. “Listen. I get that you’ve always been sort of… behind everyone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. She likes you. She biked here in a hurricane.”

“What if she says no?” he asks. 

Truthfully, Eddie’s more scared of you saying yes. 

Wayne shrugs. “Girl like that’ll still be your friend after. It’ll be fine, okay? Do you need a hug before I go?” 

“No.” Eddie rubs his eyes some more, sore now from being touched. “Maybe.” 

Wayne crosses the room to give his shoulder a squeeze. “It will be fine. You’re great with rejection, Eds, but I have a good feeling about this one.” 

Eddie felt better about it, before he embarrassed himself staring at you. But Wayne’s right, even if Eddie’s read things wrong between you, he’s sure you’ll still want to be his friend. You and Eddie are the same kind of weird, though he’s more angry where you’re carefree. If everything goes wrong, you’ll probably just give an unnecessary apology and offer to braid his hair. Which will be torture, but Eddie’ll still say yes.

Wayne calls goodbye, and you shout, “Bye, Mr. Munson!” to which Wayne wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Get lost,” Eddie says. 

“Go make her a drink. I’ll see you later.” 

That’s not a bad idea. Eddie makes you a mix of orange and grapefruit juice with a couple of ice cubes and a plastic straw, your reaction predicted and then proved. 

“It’s a cocktail,” you say, pleased, sitting on the side of his bed. 

“It’s not a cocktail, just juice.” 

“Can I have some socks, please, Eddie?” 

Eddie passes you your drink, fingertips brushing. “Yeah. Anything else?” He pretends to be exhausted as he trudges back over to his dresser. 

You laugh and sip your drink. “No, I think you’re treating me quite well.” 

Eddie grabs a random pair and finally gets to sit down beside you, the dresser drawer left out, a spare sock fallen to the floor. You shuffle back into his pillows, propping your juice on his side table, and holding your hands out for the socks. Again, your fingertips touch his as he passes them to you. You seem to enjoy it, a smile lighting your face as you pull your knees up to put the socks on. 

“Thank you for waiting on me,” you say quietly. Not shyly, just quiet. 

“You’re welcome. Came all this way to see me, didn’t you?” He gives you a shove. You shuffle back further. “In the pouring rain.” 

“It felt important at the time.” 

“Yeah?” 

You get the socks on and don’t care about them once they're past your heels. Eddie does the honour of smoothing out the bands so that the elastic won’t dig into your skin, and when he’s done he can feel you looking at him heavily. You’re not one for continued eye contact, but you smile like you were waiting for it all day, like it’s a relief to see him. 

“Bad weather,” you say, slouching down. “I think I’m still wet on the inside.” 

“Gross,” Eddie says, pushing you over bodily to sit beside you. This isn’t new, he doesn’t need any nerves, and he’s grateful when they don’t come. “Here, I’ll pull the blanket over you.” 

“Can’t move,” you say, leaning back against the pillows.

Eddie stretches his legs out. You keep yours up, but you turn to his side, and before he can really make any sense of you, you’re dropping your face into his shoulder. 

“Are you still cold?” he asks, searching for the truth in your strange comment. 

You nod into his shoulder. “I’m freezing. The shower didn’t get very hot.” 

“Sorry,” he says, letting his cheek rest on your head. 

You lift your chin as he does it, his lashes pressed to your forehead, the two of you stuck together like two warped jigsaw pieces. You probably weren’t made to be together, but you make a nice picture, and you fit snugly now. That’s what Eddie thinks. 

This is the sort of moment that makes Eddie wanna ask you out. Maybe you’re just the best friend he’s ever had, but something about this closeness feels different. You wrap your arm around his stomach in a hug and he knows this is different. 

“It’s okay,” you say finally, sighing as you shift downward into his side, getting comfortable. 

“Please don’t bike here in the rain. It’s, like, torrential. You could actually get sick.” 

You feel warm where your body presses against his, but Eddie doubts that’ll make a difference if the cold already made you sick. The bike ride from your place to his isn't short. He covers your arm with his and tries to be your space heater, cheek sliding over your forehead. 

“Eddie…” You hug him with tenderness. Eddie’s reluctant to say cuddle, but it’s close. “This might be a surprise to you, but I think it’s worth the rain and the cold to see you. Especially when you do this.” 

“What am I doing?” 

“You’re rubbing my arm.” 

He hadn’t noticed his hand caressing up and down your arm where it rests on his stomach. 

“You make me feel amazing,” you say, dropping your face into his chest. 

That’s his last straw. Eddie gets both arms around you and cuddles you (it’s a cuddle, okay! he’s a loser!) to him, arms tight but not cruel. All this fuss and you’re finally laying on top of him. He decides he won’t ask you after all. He’s not that brave, and he doesn’t want this to end. 

Your legs fall onto him. You relax completely. Even after you shower he can smell your perfume. 

“You smell nice,” he murmurs. 

“It’s on my hoodie,” you murmur back. 

Right. Eddie should remember. 

“You make everything smell like you.” Even his van keeps your scent most days. 

“Too much?” 

“The right amount,” he says firmly. 

You lay on his chest for a while, just breathing. Eddie rubs your back, tells himself he will ask, actually, because he can’t imagine not getting to do this again. You might even stay over. He could live hours of this. He didn’t know having you lay on him could make him feel like this. 

He can’t believe you’ve never done it before. 

Rain pounds the window. Condensation drips down onto the sill. You let your legs stretch out flat and then manoeuvre to be laying half atop him, hoodie riding up your back. 

“Any warmer now?” he asks.

“Yeah, you’re warming me up.” You lavish in his arms for a moment, and then lift your face. “Oh, this is a bad angle.” 

“For me or you?” 

“For me, duh.” 

Eddie doesn’t think you could have a bad angle. He rubs at your upper arm as you start to shift. “You know, your bike has just as big a chance of getting hit by lightning as your car does. More, probably.” 

“You think so?” 

“It’s physics. So, please don’t do it again.” 

You hum. “Hm, should I risk getting struck by lightning, or spend the evening without you?” you murmur, your arm moving, moving slowly, your hand resting gently on the column of his neck. There’s something ironic in your voice, wry, but your eyes are warm. He’s paralysed. No one has ever spoken to him like you. “I think I’d rather get struck by lightning.” 

You stare at one another. He laughs. You join in, your thumb a pressure at his neck, and when you move up his chest to lean in, he isn’t expecting it. 

“We’re very close together,” you whisper. 

“Super close,” he whispers back. 

“…Eddie, can I ask you something?” Your eyes slip shut, your lips so close that something in him aches, just enough wit about him to cup your shoulders in his forearm. 

“Yeah.” 

He doesn’t sound half as calm as you do. 

“Would you… Do you think we could be official? Would you want that?” You tilt your head to the side. “Is that stupid?” 

“Official?” he asks, panicked, his eyes squeezed shut hard enough for a moment that they ache.

“Like, you’d be my boyfriend. I’d be your girlfriend. We’d be close like this all the time.” 

Eddie panics so hard he just says the first thing that comes into his head, “Like, we’d kiss?” 

“I hope so,” you say, your nose pressing against his, the tip to the side of his, and then against his nostril. The heat of your breath is hard to ignore. “What do you think?” 

What does Eddie think about it? 

He catches your lips in a slow kiss. Achingly slow, not even sure it’s a kiss until you reciprocate, and your fingers dig behind his neck to tease his hair. Your lips part against his, the heat of your tongue sudden and undeniable —Eddie didn’t know you had it in you. He squeezes you to him, attempting to crane his neck downward, reliant on your enthusiasm as you move up, as you use his neck to pull yourself closer. 

Your noses crush together, and it actually hurts. “Sorry,” he says, easing you back, “you okay?” 

“‘Nother kiss,” you say hopefully, distractedly. 

He can’t not give it to you. 

Your hand spreads flat against his chest and you kiss, you kiss, long and slow movements against him before turning your head to take it again. Eddie doesn’t always know what to do with himself, but he knows kissing, no matter what anybody might think about him, and he takes the lead. 

His hand screws into a fist against your hoodie, the slip of your back further exposed as you shiver into his mouth, a sound you shouldn’t make sweet on his tongue. 

You pull away, breath on his lips. “Wanted you to kiss me for so long,” you murmur. 

Eddie knows you’re not saying it to flirt, and that makes it worse. 

“I should’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he says roughly. 

“You wanted to?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, so much, I’m a loser about you–”

“I’m always a loser,” you interrupt, “but especially about you.” 

You scratch your fingers through his hair, encouraging his head down for another kiss. This one rougher but not rough, his arm slips finally behind your head where he’d needed it to be, hooking you in his elbow to keep you in one place. To kiss you soundly, without interruption. Your almost feverish ebbing inward is a dream, your nose rubbing up against his is a fantasy. 

His heart hammers and hammers at his ribs. 

You pull away to let him breathe. “You’re very excited,” you tease lightly. 

Eddie kisses you, breathless. He kisses you so much he’s surprised you allow it, but your thumb rubs his cheek, and he knows he’d been right all along. You want him like he wants you, with startling, mildly pathetic urgency. 

He feels like a fucking prince. Girl of his dreams in his lap, everything he wants, and he didn’t even have to ask. 

—

Eddie spends a week in bliss. You’re suddenly everywhere, all the time, attached to his hip or some other part of him, and he forgets for seven whole days that he bought you a ring. 

The rain dries up, the Munson emergency fund lives to die another day, and he remembers the ring only minutes before you’re knocking at his door. 

He trips over himself trying to answer it before Wayne, who’s taken to being as painfully embarrassing as is possible for one human being, can get it for him. 

“One day you’re gonna eat shit and break your nose,” Wayne says. 

Eddie yanks open the door. “Yeah, thanks. Hey, beautiful, what’s with the sunglasses?” 

You slide them down your nose. You’re a vision on his front step, not that you’d ever notice your own intrigue. “The sunglasses?” you ask, tucking them away. “What do you think they’re for? Three guesses.” 

He grabs your waist, leaning down out of the doorway so as to save Wayne the agony. “That’s smart,” he says, kissing you quickly in hello. “You’re funny. Need anything before we go?” 

“No, I’m okay. Hi, Mr. Munson!” you add.

“Hey, honey! How are you?” Wayne calls.

You look up into Eddie’s face with an obvious delight. “I’ve never been better.” 

Eddie grins back. 

He waves a quick goodbye to Wayne and then he’s out the door. You grab his wrist and practically dance him to the car, where you offer your keys, and he deigns to drive. From there it’s smooth sailing, familiarity with a better twist, Eddie driving with the windows down and your hands twined on your thigh. Things haven’t changed much since you asked him to go steady, there’s just a whole lot more of this. Touching, kissing, no weird guilt about staring. 

As it turns out, you’re as eager to be laid out in his bed as he is to lay you out. He’s never wanted to kiss you more, and now he’s allowed. 

“Eyes on the road.” 

He leans over to kiss your cheek. The sun has warmed your skin, and his kiss makes you smile. You look pretty no matter the weather. 

“Before we get there, I have something to give you.” He takes his hand from yours to slide the box from his pocket. He holds it up. “But you can only have it if you swear you’ll call me tonight before bed. No excuses. You know exactly what number to call.” 

“Ends with a three,” you say, nodding. 

He sighs. “No, it does not.” 

“I’m kidding! Two one nine seven, I have now committed it to memory.” 

Eddie pays attention to the road, though it’s clear and long heading out of the trailer park and into town. “That deserves a gift.” 

You’re back in your glitters today, a skirt to enjoy the fine weather, a button shirt with a cute triangle collar, you’re lovely as ever, if a tad much for some. Not Eddie. He loves the dark clothes, the tinkling bracelets, the fun way you smile like everything he says is a secret between him and you. People stare wherever you and Eddie go, but as long your arm is sewn through his he couldn’t care less. 

“A gift,” you say, smiling in your way, and taking the box politely. “I don’t think I deserve it for just remembering your number.” 

“You deserved it for less. It’s not much. You can pay me back in three or four amazing kisses. Right here.” He points to the tight juncture beneath his jaw. 

You attempt to lean over and kiss him immediately. He pushes you back, laughing, worsened by your own breathless laughter as you steal one exactly where he’d tapped. 

You settle back down, Eddie’s hand dropping kindly to your knee. “I wonder what it is,” you say. 

“Then open it.” 

“I am!” You pop the box open, it’s springing hinge snapping into place. “Oh, woah. Woah. Where did you get this?” 

It’s a slim ring, with a weirdly shaped band of quality metal around some cheaper but not totally worthless gemstones, of which there are three different colours: a topaz orange, a lime green, and a pinky-red ruby colour centre stage. They have nice cuts. It’s strange as you are, and he knew when he saw it you’d have to have it. 

“If I put it on my marriage finger, are we engaged?” you tease. 

“That one would be way heavier,” he says, giving you a squeeze. 

You slide it onto your middle finger and hold your hand up in the sunshine. It fits in with your other ring nicely, though it is, to Eddie’s pride, far prettier. 

He has half a mind to pull over and kiss each knuckle, but he’s trying to be less dramatic about you. It’s not working. 

“Thank you, Eddie. I love it.” 

“Best boyfriend ever?” he asks hopefully. 

To his mild fear but better pleasure, you climb up onto the console to press three quick kisses to his cheek and jaw, your hand under his ear holding him in tender place. “Best boyfriend ever. Even if you stare too much.” 

“How am I supposed to not?” he asks, with more weight than he’s intended. 

You speak matter of factly for the first time in your life. “I am going to cause an accident,” you promise, attempting to kiss his nose. “A bad one.” 

“Sit down, please.” He lets you kiss his nose, and then jabs you in the side. “Sit down, oh my god! That’s not funny, you’re so pretty I will total your car.” 

“Now who’s not funny?” 

You both laugh at the same time, the unfiltered, un-cute cackling of two idiots with the same sense of humour, and the same wealth of ridiculous honeymoon love. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed. if you did, please consider reblogging or commenting!! thanks very much <3

[yjhzies]

“Favourite.” — Choi Seungcheol

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . one-shot . cute

⋆ pairings : dad!seungcheol x f!reader ⋆ warning : none! (let me know if there is ^^) ⋆ wc : 0.5k [✉️] · What could be worse than not being his own little babygirl's favourite? According to Seungcheol.

⋆ - note : yes I'm back after like one month<3.... BUT THIS IS THE FIRST DAD FIC IVE WRITTEN ^^ hope you enjoy it!

"Why? don't you like daddy?"

"No, no!"

You heard your shared bedroom filled with the sounds of your husband and daughter having a lighthearted argument. You slightly open the door and peek inside.

"What's going on?" As you ask, Seungcheol turns to face you with a pouty and sulky expression on his face.

He sat on the floor, holding your daughter in his lap while she played with her father's hair.

"Baby..." Seungcheol, your husband and the father of the little girl in his arms, pouted. You couldn't really make out who was the little kid here. The man, or the actual child?

You chuckle as you approach them and take a seat on the floor next to them. "What's wrong?"

The little girl, who was too busy messing with his hair, could not care less about what was going on around her. He sighed and looked at the her. "Sweetheart, who do you think is better? me or mommy?"

"Mommy!" The little girl chirped, finally turning to face you. With a giggle, she pushed herself free from Cheol's grasp and climbed onto your lap.

"Awh, you think I'm better?" You coo, and your daughter nods as she hugs you. Meanwhile, the man next to you was frowning.

"Not fair..." he mumbled, and turned to face both of you.

"But I let you to play with my hair, sweetheart," Seungcheol said, taking his daughter's tiny hand in his. His grip was so gentle, as if he was holding a light feather. And it melted your heart slowly.

"But I like the cookies mommy makes!" With a frown on her face, the little girl spoke. Seungcheol scooted closer to you, and looked at her with pleading eyes. But he couldn't help the way his pout faded into a faint smile at the sight of his daughter adorable frown. "I can also learn to bake cookies for you, better ones!"

You scoff playfully, "Dad can't bake better cookies than me, alright?"

Seungcheol huffed, wrapping his arm around your waist and snuggling on your side, his cheek squished against your shoulders.

"Now I got both of my girls against me," he sighed, shaking his head as he pouted.

"Too bad~" Your daughter cooed playfully, and Cheol gasped.

"Look, our daughter has learned to bully me now..."

You were enjoying the playful banter. You were enjoying Seungcheol's willingness to give up anything if it meant his daughter would choose him. You loved how soft he was for you and especially his daughter.

"Awh, look sweetheart, you made dad upset." You say, and the little girl, confused, glances between you and Cheol. She took her time processing what was going on in her tiny brain before reaching out to Seungcheol, who was burying his face in your shoulder.

"Sorry, I'm sorry..." She pouted and crawled into her father's lap, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck and hugging him.

Seungcheol didn't know whether to scream from the cuteness aggression, or just cry. But he hugged her back. His grip firm but gentle. The little girl patted his back, and he smiled at you.

"I see, I'm no longer favourite. Neither you or your dad." You joke, smiling at the sight of your husband and daughter. Seungcheol moves closer to you, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

"No, I have my two favourite girls. You and this little girl." He smiled, kissing the top of your head.

[chrisevansonly]

Playing With Fire

Max Verstappen x Female Reader

summary: you and stella are max’s world, and he’d be damned if he let his father speak ill of either of you.

warnings: angst, jos (ew), angry max, slight mentions of crying, fluff at end

a/n: this is a re-upload to see if it shows up in the tags 🥲

When Stella was born, it was one of the best days ever for Max, seeing his baby girl come into the world, and the way she practically latched onto him from the minute she was welcomed into the family. He knew right then and there he would be the absolute best father to his daughter, just as he was the best husband to you, and always had been.

If there was one thing Max nor you completely enjoyed it was family events when everyone got together, including Jos. Max’s father.Max and his father have a complicated relationship, in a way they seem close but there’s always that edge to his dad that keeps all of you on the edge of your seat. You in particular seemed to still be an issue to him, and every once in a while, you’d become the punching bag at the dinner table.

Stella was sleeping in your arms as you sat next to Max at the dinner table, Jos across from you both and his mother on the other end with the rest of his family and some friends that had joined for the monthly get together.

“So when is the next Verstappen coming?” His father asked looking at you. Stella was only 6 months old so you and Max were happy to just enjoy the time you have with her now, not even thinking about another baby.

“Oh, well i’m sure someday we’ll have another…”

“We’re in no rush” Max butted in, assuming it would stop his father’s line of questioning.

“Yes well, it’s just you had a baby girl…there has to be a boy in the equation…”

You furrowed your brows, fixing Stella’s blanket as she continued to sleep, oblivious to the rising tensions in the room.

“I don’t think so? There’s nothing wrong with having girls..”

“Who’s supposed to carry on the name?”

Max sat up straighter, his hand squeezing your knee gently

“Stella will just as our next baby will eventually, regardless of their gender.”

Jos shook his head taking a sip of his water as he sighed, before looking back at you.

“All i’m saying is you should be trying for a boy.”

“Well it doesn’t work that way.”

The table was getting quieter as the father and son squared off, Jos not backing down and Max not about to let his father attack you in anyway. Not on his watch.

“I knew the second you had a daughter it would make you weak, let alone marrying her and having that baby! She’s useless if she can’t have a boy! You’re wasting your time Max, I knew from the second I met her it would ruin our family.”

Used to his harassment you didn’t cry, but it didn’t stop tears from welling up in your eyes as you almost deflated in a way, hugging Stella closer to your chest. The minute your eyes looked to Max, long gone was his soft stare and gentle smile, replaced was a look almost predatory as he looked to his father.

“Watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking about the mother of my child.”

“Max-”

“No, get out.”

“Excuse me?” Jos’s eyes widened and he shook his head

“GET THE HELL OUT!”

Max yelled, slamming his hands down on the table, seconds later Stella stirring before whimpering in your arms. The dutchman froze and looked apologetically at you as you excused yourself to go up to the nursery, only then turning back to look at his father.

“If you ever so much as think about speaking about my wife and daughter again, it’ll be me coming after you. Now get the fuck out.”

Jos didn’t even offer to say anything else, pushing back his chair and storming out, effectively cutting the dinner to an end as everyone left, Max’s mother sticking around to help clean up and of course comfort you afterwards. She had always been close to you and Max and in a way she was like a mother to you too.

“Baby?”

Turning at the sound of your husbands voice you smiled, still holding Stella in your arms, only this time she was much calmer, her eyes lighting up as she spots her dad.

“Hi, everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that…”

Shrugging you let him take Stella from you, his demeanour much more relaxed with his baby girl in his arms as he placed a few kisses to her cheeks.

“I know what your father is like, yes it hurts but I love you and you love me and that’s all that matters…we have a beautiful baby girl, and that man will never be able to change what we have.”

Max nods, bringing you into his side and leaning down to kiss you softly

“You’re right, he can’t. I’ll never let him ever disrespect you like that ever again. No matter what I have to do.”

“I know you won’t Maxie…and I love you very much for it, Stella too, huh baby?”

Stroking her cheek gently she babbled happily, leaning on Max’s shoulder, her hand patting his chest gently

“My girls…I love you both so much, i’ll always protect you both, with my everything.”

Nothing else needed to be said in the moment, all Max needed was his girls and he felt whole. Nothing else mattered because to him he had everything he’d ever wanted in his life. Despite what he went through growing up, Jos had never made his heart turn cold, he made it big enough to hold the love he had for you two, and would always hold, no matter what happened.

Besides, everyone knew messing with the Verstappen girls, was playing with fire.

[riediaries]

the wailing sound of a baby fills up the room for the nth time tonight. the crying continues and becomes louder throughout the second.

you groan, waking up from your needed sleep. as much as you want to wake up satoru to take care of her, you can't. you are both equally tired and sleep-deprived because of your daughter.

you try to get up slowly to not wake up satoru but he already beat you into it. he gets up and pushes your body gently to the bed.

"sleep some more." he leans down to give your forehead a kiss and then gets up to be with his baby daughter.

"hi mochi." he smiles to her. that smile alone makes her feel really safe and comfortable as she's now calming down. she raises her two chubby hands, wanting her daddy to carry her.

"do you think it's too early for you to wake us up?" he jokes. satoru checks her diaper for poop just in case and after that, he carefully puts his gentle hands on her body to lift her up.

you can not take off your eyes on the scene unfolding in front of you. quietly observing the two white haired baby and the big baby.

satoru continues to rock her body as he hums in a melodic tone. the crying comes to stop and she hiccups.

"yes.. yes.. daddy's here.." he swaddles his baby around his arm in a gentle way, afraid to hurt her in any way.

you get up and your feet automatically makes its way to your little family. you hug your husband by the waist, putting your chin on his shoulder to see your daughter eyeing his father. blue eyes to blue eyes.

you were not glad by the genes of this man covering your daughter whole. from head to toe. she's the carbon copy of her dad but on the other side, you were happy that the only man you love is practically the twin of your daughter.

this thought makes another thought on your mind in which you giggle.

satoru breaks his eye contact with his baby and turns his head to you. "hm? what is it? and shouldn't you be sleeping?"

you continue to giggle and put your forehead on his shoulder, an attempt to muffle your giggles but satoru's plump lips makes out a smile.

"what is it? what's funny?" he asks again. he's curious why you're giggling a little too much.

you sigh and turns your head to meet his stunning blue eyes that was passed down on your daughter.

you look at your daughter first who's already eyeing you, too. great. two pairs of beautiful eyes watching you.

"there's this saying.." you start and your attention goes back to satoru.

he hums, signaling you to continue.

"this saying says that whoever was the carbon copy of the kid was the one who enjoyed a little too much during the making.." you burst out of laughing.

as you make your point, satoru chuckles at that saying, slightly agreeing. "oh?" he raises an eyebrow and grins.

"oh.. is that so?" he wiggles his eyebrows this time.

"mhm.." you hum. "so.. you enjoyed it a lot, huh, satoru?" you tease him.

he laughs quietly. "uh-huh, you caught me, babe." he leans to you, pecking your lips shortly. "i enjoyed it a lot and i will enjoy it more in the future." he whispers on your lips as teases you back.

it's now your turn to frown. "no way." you roll your eyes to dismiss his earlier thought.

he grins even more and turns his attention back to the baby who's been quiet. "but she needs siblings soon enough to have a playmate. isn't that right, baby?" babying the words in the last sentence.

"c'mon. you clearly enjoyed the making, too. even though just a little of your genes were taken out for our baby." he laughs and your daughter giggles, it's as if she's teaming up with him to tease you.

"oh my.. what a little rebellion we have right now." you chuckle at your daughter's early stages of being a mini satoru.

"you should team up with mommy when you grow up." you boop her nose which made her giggle more, making you and satoru smile at your child that has you and satoru's best qualities.

giggles and laughs filled the room at three am in the morning, too early for some playful interaction with your little family.

"no, right? baby girl should team up with daddy and that's why, mommy.." he turns to you again. "we should make another one for you to have a teammate soon enough." he laughs, louder this time.

"no–"

"but this time, i will make sure you'll enjoy more than me so that the second one will be your own very carbon copy." he grins and you slap his back.

what a rough future you'll be expecting.

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 3671 words & 18+

here it is! part two of this blurb. all the hugs and kisses to @moonpascal for reading and giving me tips/ideas! also, here's the series masterlist for these two 💌 happy reading, angels! 💌

While James is gone, your thoughts spiral out of control. You consider slipping out of his bed and retreating to the living room, where the space feels less charged. A nagging voice in your mind insists that James would be more at ease if you weren’t in his bed. You’ve been in his bed before, shared countless late-night conversations and quiet moments, but this time it feels wildly different. 

The air was thick with tension, something you’d felt even after James left the room, and it made you question whether you should create some distance before he returned. The last thing you wanted was to put him in an uncomfortable position. Lying in his bed while his son called you "mum" surely must have felt that way to him. 

You’ve just sat up in bed, ready to slip out from under the covers, when James quietly reenters the room, closing the door with a soft click. He turns and catches sight of you sitting up, your uncertainty evident in the way you watch him. One brow arches in silent inquiry, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Uh,” you murmur, easing yourself back into the sheets, your hands nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric. “No.” 

James lets out a satisfied hum, his voice low and warm, “Good.”

You chew on your lip, watching as he runs a hand through his hair, tousling the curls. You fight back a smile, thinking how just a few minutes ago, Henry’s hair looked exactly the same.

“Listen,” he starts. “I want to thank you for going along with Henry calling you mum. I know it might have been a bit of a shock.” His voice is soft as he acknowledges the almost-four-year-old sleeping down the hallway. You feel a wave of emotion at the mention of the little boy.

“A bit.” You say softly.

“I’m sorry,” he admits, his voice tinged with guilt as he runs a hand through his hair again—a gesture that betrays his nerves. “I’ll talk to him in the morning and explain that he can’t call you that.”

A pause lingers between you. Neither of you speaks, the quiet hum of the TV the only thing breaking the stillness.

“Or you don’t have to.” You say gently, pushing the covers aside as you shift to the edge of the bed in front of him. He watches you intently, his eyes darting down to trace over your bare legs. You’re wearing the shorts that drive him crazy—especially now, with you in his bed.

“What?” He asks, his tone dripping with surprise.

“It’s okay if he wants to call me ‘mum'. If you're okay with it,” you say shyly, and he can tell from the way you bite down on your lower lip and stare up at him that you’re nervous. “I consider him mine.” You continue, your voice coming out in a near whisper.

That’s all it takes.

James pushes himself forward with a determined intensity, his hand cupping your cheek as he tilts your head back, forcing your eyes to meet his. His thumb gently caresses your bottom lip, sending a shiver through you as your lashes flutter with anticipation. He leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and captures your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. You respond with a shuddering sigh.

He pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “He is yours.”

You can hardly respond. The words are stuck in your throat, trapped by the rising emotions. You couldn’t have heard him right. “Jamie, I—”

“You’ve raised him with me.” He tells you, kneeling between your legs, his warm palms gently pushing your thighs apart so he can press close to you.

A slow, gentle kiss is pressed to your cheek, “Been such a good mum, darling.” He whispers, his voice is rough against your ear.

James grins at the sound of the soft whimper that escapes your lips. Eyes wide and lips parted, you gaze up at him, caught between surprise and desire.

He’s beginning to think you like being praised.

“Always so good for me, aren’t you?” He tests as his lips graze the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively reach out, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as a surge of heat shoots through you, straight to between your legs.

He grins, his theory proven correct. Your hips roll, desperate for friction, as your chest pushes further into his.

“Taking care of my son,” Your eyes flutter closed, letting him run his palm down your neck, tilting your head to the side. Another kiss is placed below your ear, pulling a whimper from your lips. “Our son”

The hand that isn’t cradling your neck glides up your thigh, fingers grazing your skin before gripping your hip firmly, his touch possessive. He squeezes the flesh, sending a wave of heat through you. The sigh you let out is soft, almost a whimper, betraying how desperately you’re losing control under his touch.

“Jamie.” A whimper escapes you as desire coils tightly in your stomach, almost unbearable. You’ve never ached for someone’s touch as much as you do now, every nerve ending alive with need.

“It’s your turn to be taken care of, love.” He mumbles, trailing soft kisses down your neck. Your face tightens, struggling to contain the lump that forms in your throat from his words. 

He pulls back from you, sitting back on his heels as he begins to unbutton his shirt. Your mouth goes dry as your gaze locks onto his fingers, watching them deftly work each button open, one by one. He’s moving slowly, almost deliberately, focusing on the task as if he’s oblivious to how your eyes are glued to him. 

But you know better than that.

The fabric parts gradually, revealing more of his chest with each undone button, and the air between you seems to thicken with anticipation. 

Your focus is dialed into the movement of his hands and the soft rustle of his shirt as he moves. Your thighs press together, the anticipation building unbearably. You reach for the band of his dress pants, fingers curling around the fabric, trying to convey your urgent need. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, and he gives you a smile that’s as devastating as it is knowing.

“Slide up on the bed, darling.” He tells you as he pops open the last button and slides his shirt off, revealing his tanned and toned torso.

You obey without hesitation, your body responding instinctively to his command.

He casually tosses his shirt onto the top of the dresser, the fabric landing in a careless heap. Then he climbs onto the bed, moving with deliberate ease until he’s hovering over you, his presence overwhelming and inescapable.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he mutters, his voice rough with an intensity you’ve never seen in him before. “So beautiful that sometimes I can’t even think straight when I’m around you.”

“Stop it.” You sigh, though there’s no real sharpness in your tone. You’re simply trying to mask how flustered he’s making you.

His fingers slip beneath the strap of your tank top, tugging it off your shoulder, “I’m serious, baby. Do you know how many years I’ve spent dreaming of worshiping your body?”

Baby. That's new.

“Fuck, I need you to touch me.” You sigh, your voice coated in desperation. 

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice dripping with a cocky undertone. You hate how much it stirs you up, the confidence in his tone intensifying your reaction.

You nod frantically, “Yeah.”

Your eyes flutter closed as James slides the other strap of your top off your shoulder. There’s a brief, charged pause before you feel his lips grazing your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. He murmurs tender compliments, his words melting into the softness of your skin.

The hem slips down, exposing your breasts to the cool air, and you can feel your nipples harden. James curses before leaning down, eager to press a soft kiss against your right nipple. You draw in a sharp breath, so sudden that James glances up at you in surprise. But you’re too absorbed in the sensation, head thrown back, to notice his reaction.

He takes his time, sucking on your nipples until you’re whining before trailing kisses lower and lower down your body. Stopping at the band of your sleep shorts, he glances up at you for permission. You meet his gaze and give him a small nod, and then he’s tugging down the flimsy fabric along with your panties and tossing them aside.

The light from his lamp is reflecting off your slick, and he’s never wanted anything more. All those years he spent dreaming of this moment, imagining what it would be like to have you this close. Now that it’s finally happening, he can’t quite grasp that it’s real—that you’re here, within reach, and this isn’t just another fleeting fantasy.

“Fuck, I wanna taste you,” James groans, staring down at your soaked pussy. “Please let me, baby.”

You don’t say anything but instead spread your thighs, your hands gripping underneath the backs of your knees. He grins, his hands sliding up the backs of your thighs to hold you open for him. The tip of his nose brushes against your thighs as he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. The shaky exhale that slips from your lips at his touch has him growing uncomfortably hard. 

When he nips at your inner thigh, a playful squeal escapes your lips, and you tug at his curls with a mischievous grin. Gently, you guide his head so he’s lined up with your pussy, your touch both commanding and affectionate.

He doesn’t waste any time, his tongue sliding right through your slick as he moans into you.

You let out a moan so loud that he reaches up and clamps his hand over your mouth. The last thing he needs is Henry waking up and cockblocking him.

He keeps his hand over your mouth, feeling the vibrations of your sighs and whimpers against his palm. If it weren’t for his son sleeping just down the hall, he’d be urging you to let go and be as loud as you wish. Begging you to let him hear just how good he was making you feel.

Your thighs jerk, and James grips you harder, pushing you back down into the sheets. Wetness is beginning to drip down onto the sheets, and the way James sloppily licks and sucks at your cunt doesn’t help the mess. He couldn't care less about the mess gathering on his sheets. The only thing on his mind is making you feel so good that you can’t possibly think straight.

At the feeling of the tips of his fingers tracing along your entrance, you moan, desperately nodding your head to tell him to keep going. He listens, slipping a finger slowly into you and curling upwards. He watches transfixed as you arch your back, and he can’t decide which sight he likes more. The sight of his finger slipping into you so easily or the complete look of desperation on your face.

“God, you look so fucking pretty like this.” James hums, pressing a kiss onto your clit before glancing back up at you. Against his better judgment, he pulls his hand away from your mouth, desperate to hear the pretty noises you’re making.

He’s not at all disappointed; the way you moan his name makes him dizzy.

“Got the prettiest pussy too.” He hums, pulling his fingers away to circle your clit. When he pinches your clit you shriek, jolting at the sensation that shoots through you. Your legs are shaking, and you can feel the building hot pressure settling into your body.

James shifts, moving further up your body so that he can settle next to you. His fingers are still rubbing tight circles against your clit, and you don’t get a chance to ask what he’s doing before he’s leaning down and sucking your nipple into his mouth.

The sensation sends you over the edge, vision blurring into white as you’re consumed by the intense, toe-curling orgasm. Your gasp is startingly loud, so James leans down and kisses you hard, muffling your cries as you grip his bicep in one hand and the sheets in the other hand. He keeps the same pace, swirling his fingers over your pussy in the most delicious way as he works you through your orgasm. He slows his movements once he notices your breathing has evened out and your eyes have fluttered open.

“Fuck,” you sigh, your chest heaving as you look up at James with wide, glassy eyes. He smiles down at you, pressing a quick, tender kiss to your lips. At that moment, you’re certain he’s ruined you for any other man—though, truth be told, he did that years ago.

“You’ve got the prettiest moans I’ve ever heard.” He speaks with such sincerity that you’re certain your gaze is filled with the most lovesick adoration.

“James.” You say softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach up to gently brush the curls away from his face. Your fingertips graze his skin, lingering for a moment on his cheek as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with an emotion that matches your own.

You know he’s deeply in love with you, just as you are with him.

“What, baby?”

“I want to feel you inside of me.” Your fingers reach down to grasp the waistband of his dress pants. James looks momentarily startled when he glances down and realizes he’s still wearing them. With a flurry of hurried movements, he fumbles to unbutton and shove them off, and you can’t help but giggle at the endearing clumsiness of his efforts.

You barely have time to admire how beautiful he looks before he’s positioning himself over you, his body pressing close. He cages you in with his arms on either side of your head, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I need to grab a cond—” James begins as he glances over at his nightstand, but you cut him off with a gentle smile, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

"But there's a chance—" He stops himself, the words catching in his throat as he swallows hard, the mere thought too overwhelming to fully process. He can't let his mind linger on the image of you pregnant with his child; he just can't.

"I know," you reply, your voice steady as you give him an encouraging nod, trying to offer reassurance.

James looks so startled that you immediately worry you’ve said the wrong thing. “Please, baby,” he urges, his voice tinged with desperation, “tell me you’re being serious.”

You giggle, “I am.”

“Fuck.” He lets out a low groan, reaching down to grip his cock, dragging the tip through your folds. The sharp gasp you release makes James glance up at you. 

He’s never witnessed anything so captivating. Your eyes are closed, head tilted to the side, with your swollen bottom lip caught between your teeth in a way that drives him wild.

He drags himself further down until he’s lined up with your entrance, and you let out a shaky exhale. As he pushes past your tight walls, he grits his teeth, resisting the urge to shove his hips forward and fill you in one go. But instead, he fixates on your face—the way your brows furrow in pleasure and your lips part, adjusting to the feel of his cock easing in.

“You feel so much better than I imagined, shit.” He gasps, watching the way his cock pushes past your snug entrance and sinks into you slowly. You suck him in so easily, and he swallows hard, silently begging himself to hold it together.

“Jamie, oh my god.” You moan, blindly reaching out a hand to grip his shoulder, the other gripping the sheets.

“I know, baby,” He grunts. “Almost there.” He stills for a second, needing a second to breathe. It’s been ages since he last had sex, and it doesn’t help that it’s you he’s slipping his cock into.

“Keep going, please.” It must be the tone of your voice, that soft, irresistible lilt, that drives him to surge forward as if he can't hold back any longer. The forceful thrust tears a moan from your throat, your hand instinctively flying up to clutch his as it grips your hip with a possessive intensity. At the touch of your fingers, he instinctively twists his hand to intertwine them with yours. With a steady push, he leans over you, pressing your joined hands into the sheets.

Your eyes flutter open, slowly tracing over him, taking in every detail, before finally locking onto his gaze. He’s just so breathtakingly beautiful. His dark curls fall messily over his forehead, his lips are pink and inviting, and a deep blush colors his cheeks. You��ve never seen him like this before, so vulnerable and raw, and you’re overwhelmed with gratitude that you get to witness him like this, even if it’s just this once.

A gentle kiss lands on your lips, the softness of his touch lingering for a moment. You let out a quiet sigh, your breath blending with his in a simple, shared connection. His lips remain lightly pressed against yours as he drags his cock through your pussy. Your back arches instinctively, and a soft, pleading whine escapes into his mouth.

He quickens the pace, yet it remains slow and tender, leaving you breathless and dazed. As your head tilts to the side, he seizes the moment to press gentle kisses along your shoulder, his touch soothing compared to the burn of pleasure between your thighs.

“God, I love your moans.” He mumbles, rolling his hips into yours. Being this close allows him to hear every sound you make—the soft catch of your breath, the subtle shifts in your sighs, and the faint murmurs of pleasure. Each noise is crisp and intimate, a testament to the closeness you share.

“Love your pretty lips.” He murmurs softly, his voice low and intimate, as he leans in to press his lips against yours. The kiss is gentle but insistent, and you can barely manage to reciprocate, your movements sluggish and overwhelmed. Yet he doesn't seem to mind; his focus is entirely on making you feel good.

“Love how well you take me.” He murmurs praise with a tender, reverent tone, each word wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The effect is immediate; you release a choked sob as his hand slides from your neck down your body. He gently slides his hand under your thigh, lifting it and securing it over his hip with a possessive yet gentle grip. The shift in position pulls you even closer and has him hitting that delicious spot that makes your mind go blissfully blank.

You’re utterly undone, and it’s all too clear in your voice. Each desperate plea of his name tumbles from your lips, mingled with breathless, disjointed words about how incredible everything feels. The raw vulnerability in your tone, the way you falter and stutter with pleasure, tells him just how close you are

“James, I—” you cry out, your voice breaking as you squeeze his hand with a desperate intensity. Your other hand weaves through his tousled curls, tugging him closer. You pull his lips to yours with an urgent, almost pleading motion, your heart racing as the warmth of his lips meet yours. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck.”

He keeps the rhythm steady, his lips lingering on your cheeks with soft, reverent kisses before moving slowly down your neck. Each kiss is deliberate and tender, a gentle exploration that sends a cascade of shivers across your skin. The warmth of his breath mingles with the sensation of his lips, heightening the intimacy of the moment and deepening the connection between you.

“Fuck, I love you.” He grits out a few strained words, his voice rough and laden with raw emotion. That simple utterance is enough to shatter your composure. In an instant, you’re undone, your body trembling and mind swirling as you surrender entirely to the intensity of the moment.

The intense feeling of you squeezing him tightly, overwhelms his senses, causing his thoughts to dissolve into a haze of pleasure. His body reacts instinctively, and without much warning, he spills into you as he helps you ride out your high. He curses under his breath, his head sinking to your shoulder, the weight of his exhaustion and satisfaction pressing against you.

It takes a moment for both of you to catch your breath, chests heaving and hearts pounding in the aftermath. As you gradually come back to yourselves, he gently pulls away from your shoulder, meeting your glassy-eyed gaze with his own. You stare at him, wide-eyed, your hair a tangled mess and mascara smudged. Despite the disheveled appearance, he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Did I—” you trail off, your voice faltering as you shift your hand from his tangled curls to cradle his cheek gently. Your thumb brushes lightly against his skin, your gaze searching his face. “Did you just say you loved me?” The words come out in a soft, trembling whisper, your eyes wide and filled with a mix of hope and disbelief.

“Yes.” James admits; there’s a shake to his voice as he bites his lip nervously. The admission wasn’t meant to slip out. Instead of apologizing, he shifts his focus to the tears welling up in your eyes. Before he can process it, you lean in and kiss him fiercely, the intensity of emotions seeping through.

“Like you’re in love with me?” You ask, your voice trembling with disbelief. James offers a nervous, yet hopeful smile.

“Uh huh.” He confirms softly, his eyes reflecting a vulnerable sincerity.

“I love you. So fucking much, James Potter.”

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

[amirasainz]

Ooooh can you please do reader is Lewis daughter and she’s a big daddy’s girl and she has everyone wrapped around her finger, including the stoic Toto?

AHH! I had so much fun writing this. I love the idea of Lewis being a girl dad. I hope y'all enjoy reading this and send me some requests! -XoXo

Daddy's little love

“Who is your favourite Disney Princess, Baby?” asked Anthony, Lewis’ dad, to his 4-year-old granddaughter. Cassie, who was busy getting her beautiful, long, curly hair done by her grandmother Linda, turned to Anthony with the biggest grin on her face.

“Tiana,” she proudly stated. “TIANA? Why’s that, hm?” he asked her, now sporting the same huge grin as the girl in the living room. “Because she is the prettiest of them all. And her prince is better than the other ones. OH, and their friends are so cool, because Ray is a firefly and his wife is a star. And their other friend, the crocodile, Louis, can play the trumpet. Oh, and Mama Odie makes the best gumbo in the whole wide world,” she answered, running towards Anthony.

The older Hamilton immediately picked her up, sitting little Cassie in front of him on the kitchen counter. “Ohh, is that so, young lady?” he jokingly asked her. “UHU,” she answered with a duh-tone. “Really?” “Uhu.” “Really.” Now the game between Cassie and her Poppy started.

Linda, who knew that this little game of theirs could go on for hours, called towards the young girl. “Cassie, honey, we still need to do your hair.” “But I don’t wanna, Loveyyyyy,” whined the 4-year-old. “Nuhu, don’t even look at me with those puppy eyes of yours,” she told her. However, Cassie tried to find a way out of the situation. “But why can’t Daddy do it for me?” she whined again. “You know why, Baby. Daddy can’t make those braids that you like,” Anthony answered, sensing the beginning of a little tantrum.

Both Anthony and Linda knew that Cassie hated getting her hair done. If the young Hamilton could, she would always have it open. However, with the hot weather and her playing the whole time with her cousins in the garden, everyone knew it was better to braid it back.

Before anyone could say anything else, a figure appeared in the doorway. “What’s that I’m hearing about Daddy?” asked Lewis, who was finally back home after the Mexican GP. He looked tired but happy. “DADDY!” squealed the young girl, immediately running towards her father with outstretched arms. Lewis, who knew his daughter better than himself, picked her up in his arms and held her close, releasing a sigh of relief now that he finally had his baby back in his arms. Her laughter was like music to his ears, and he couldn’t help but smile as she giggled like crazy while he kissed her cheeks repeatedly.

After a moment, he stopped and greeted her with the biggest smile ever. “Hello, my little love,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. He could feel the stress of the race melting away as he held her.

Remembering the conversation he walked into, he carefully petted her hair and told her, “Go on, love. Let Lovey finish your hair, then we can go outside swimming.” Cassie pouted, her lower lip jutting out adorably. “But Daddy—” she began, her eyes wide with pleading. “Nuh-uh, Honey. Don’t even try it with me,” Lewis said, his tone gentle but firm. Cassie released the biggest sigh on earth before stomping towards her grandmother, her tiny feet making exaggerated thuds on the floor.

Thankfully, her older cousin Willow was also now in the living room, so the two cousins could play a game while Linda finished the two Dutch braids. Willow, always the patient one, smiled and pulled out a board game, setting it up on the coffee table. “Come on, Cassie, let’s play while Grandma finishes your hair,” she said, her voice soothing.

Lewis, who was watching the whole situation with an amused smile, turned towards his father and hugged him. “It’s good to have you back, boy,” Anthony whispered in his ear, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s good to be back, Dad,” Lewis answered while releasing the hug. He felt a wave of gratitude for his family, who always supported him no matter what.

After a moment, Lewis’s face turned serious, and he looked at his dad. “Hey, can we talk for a minute?” he asked. Anthony, sensing the gravity of the situation, turned his full attention to his son. With an encouraging nod, Lewis began.

“Dad, you know how important the Brazil Grand Prix is for me, right? This year, I was thinking of taking Cassie with me. This race isn’t just significant for me, but also for Mercedes. Plus, it’s my last year with the team,” he explained, his voice tinged with emotion.

Anthony took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before responding. “Lewis, I understand how crucial this race is for you, but why do you feel the need to take Cassie with you?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Well, Dad, it’s going to be such a meaningful race for me, and I want my favorite person there with me. Besides, the team and the other drivers are always asking about her. And Gloria, you know, Cassie’s babysitter, will also be there. She can watch over her while I’m racing,” Lewis replied, his eyes pleading for understanding.

Anthony paused for a moment, considering his son’s words. “Okay, I think that’s a really sweet idea. And we both know how much Cassie loves traveling with her daddy,” he said with a warm smile.

“Thanks, Dad. I guess I just needed to hear from someone that my idea isn’t completely insane,” Lewis said, relief washing over his face.

“No, don’t worry about it. Now go tell the little princess the good news,” Anthony encouraged, giving his son a reassuring pat on the back.

After an uneventful flight and a good nights rest, the little trio entered the paddock the next morning. Cassie clutched her father’s hand tightly as they walked into the bustling paddock. The young girl, with her curly hair bouncing in the warm breeze, wore a bright purple cap that read "Daddy's little Champion". It was a sea of activity, with mechanics, engineers, and media personnel buzzing around. This was Cassie’s first time attending a race outside of Silverstone, and her wide eyes took in every detail with a mix of awe and excitement.

Lewis,, was a seasoned pro in this environment, but today he felt a bit different. He was not just a world-class driver; he was an overprotective dad. He kept a close eye on Cassie, making sure she stayed close and safe amidst the chaos. The media quickly noticed the duo, and cameras started flashing, capturing the tender moments between father and daughter.

Lewis’s smile was tight as he waved politely to the cameras, but inside, he was less than thrilled about the attention. He had always been protective of Cassie, and the thought of her being in the spotlight made him uneasy. He bent down to her level, his voice gentle but firm. “Stay close to me, okay, Cassie? There’s a lot going on here.”

Cassie nodded, her curly hair bouncing with the movement. “Okay, Daddy.”

Beside them, Gloria, the babysitter, walked with a calm demeanor. At around 50 years old, she had a reassuring presence that both Lewis and Cassie appreciated. Gloria had been with the family for a while and knew how to keep Cassie entertained and safe. She smiled at Cassie, holding out a small toy car. “Look, Cassie, it’s just like Daddy’s car!”

Cassie’s face lit up as she took the toy, momentarily distracted from the overwhelming environment. Lewis gave Gloria a grateful nod. “Thanks, Gloria. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Gloria chuckled softly. “Just doing my job, Lewis. You focus on the race; I’ll keep an eye on our little racer here.”

As they made their way through the paddock, more media attention followed. Lewis did his best to shield Cassie from the cameras, but it was clear that their presence was a big deal. He sighed inwardly, wishing for a bit more privacy for his daughter. But seeing Cassie’s excitement and knowing Gloria was there to help made it all worthwhile.

“Alright, Cassie,” Lewis said, lifting her up so she could see over the crowd. “Let’s go find a good spot to watch the race. It’s going to be an exciting day.”

Cassie giggled, her nervousness melting away as she felt the familiar comfort of her father’s arms. With Gloria by their side, they were ready to face the day, media attention and all.

As they walked to the Garage, Cassie's wide eyes took in the sight of the famous cars, the hustle of the crew and the vibrant colours of the team uniforms. Other drivers like Lando, Charles, George and Daniel, couldn't help but stop and admire the adorable little girl.

"Hey there, little champ!" Lando said, waving at her. "Are you going to cheer for your dad today?" Cassie giggled and nodded. "He's the fastes!" she declared proudly, causing the drivers to melt at her sweetness. They all exchanged smiles, and for a moment, the competitive spirit of Formula 1 seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the warmth of Cassie's innocent joy.

As Lewis, Cassie and Gloria approached the Mercedes garage, Lewis introduced Cassie to his team principal. Toto, the usually angry Austrian, was particularly taken with her. "Well, if it isn't the youngest member of our team!" he said, picking her up and placing her on his lap. "How would you like to be the team principal for the day?"

Cassie's eyes widened in amazement. "Really? I can be in charge?" she squealed, bouncing slightly in excitement. Lewis, who was busy talking to Bono, turned towards his daughter and reminded her again : "Cassie, inside voice, ok?" "Sorry Daddy" she apologised cutely, warming Lewis heart at the sight of her.

Toto brought her attention back to their conversation. “Absolutely! You can help make all the important decisions,” Toto replied, grinning. He handed her a small headset, and Cassie put it on, feeling like a true boss.

“Okay, Cassie,” Toto continued, “let’s make sure the drivers are ready. We need to keep an eye on them!”

Cassie nodded seriously, trying her best to mimic the serious expressions of the adults around her. As she sat on Toto’s lap, she observed the team preparing for the race, her little fingers tapping away on the radio as if she were giving commands.

“Driver 44, are you ready?” she said into the headset, mimicking what she had heard the engineers say. The team chuckled at her adorable seriousness, and Lewis turned to give her a thumbs-up from across the garage.

As the pre-race festivities continued, Cassie found herself surrounded by the other drivers, who were all charmed by her presence. Daniel knelt down in front of her. “So, what’s your strategy for today?” he asked playfully.

“I think Daddy should go really fast and win!” she replied, her face lighting up with confidence. The drivers laughed, and Daniel gave her a mock salute. “A solid plan, Commander Cassie!”

Soon, it was time for the drivers to head to the grid. Toto carefully lifted Cassie off his lap and placed her back on the ground. “Are you ready to watch your dad race?” he asked her.

“Yay! Go, Daddy!” she cheered, waving her arms enthusiastically. Lewis leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead before heading out to the grid. "I love you, my little love" he called back to her. "I love you more" she yelled. Turning towards his daughter, he said : "Impossible" before continuing his way. Their interaction gained laugher throughout the garage.

As the race began, Cassie was glued to the edge of her seat in the team hospitality area, her small hands gripping the railing as she watched the cars zoom past. With each lap, her excitement grew. “Go, Daddy! You can do it!” she shouted, her voice ringing out amidst the cheers of the crowd.

The race unfolded with thrilling intensity. Lewis battled fiercely against his competitors, maneuvering through tight corners and executing perfect overtakes. Cassie’s eyes were wide with awe as she watched her father, the adrenaline coursing through her tiny body with each lap.

During a particularly tense moment, where Lewis found himself in a tight spot battling for position, Cassie gasped and clutched the railing. “Come on, Daddy! You got this!” she yelled, her voice carrying over the noise of the engines.

Her encouragement seemed to resonate, as Lewis managed to pull off an incredible move, taking the lead. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Cassie jumped up and down, her laughter mingling with the roars of the fans.

“Look, Cassie! Your daddy’s in front!” Gloria said, smiling at her enthusiasm. She was having the time of her life, completely unaware of the high stakes of the race, so focused on her father’s performance.

As the race neared its conclusion, the tension was palpable. Lewis was vying for the victory, and Cassie could feel the excitement in the air. She leaned over the railing, her heart racing as the final laps approached. “You can do it, Daddy! Just go faster!” she shouted, her little fists clenched in determination.

When Lewis crossed the finish line, victorious once again, the roar of the crowd was deafening. Cassie squealed with delight, jumping up and down in sheer joy. “He did it! He won!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

After the race, Lewis hurried to the team area, where Cassie was waiting, her face glowing with pride. He scooped her up in his arms, spinning her around. “Did you see that, Cassie? We did it!” he exclaimed, his heart swelling with happiness.

“You were the best, Daddy! I knew you could win!” she said, her eyes shining with admiration.

As the celebrations continued, Cassie found herself the center of attention. The drivers gathered around her, congratulating Lewis and showering her with affection. “You’re an amazing little team principal, Cassie,” Charles said, ruffling her hair.

Cassie beamed, soaking in all the praise. “I told him to go fast!” she said proudly, and the drivers laughed, each one charmed by her innocence and enthusiasm.

As the sun began to set over Brazil, casting a warm glow over the paddock, Lewis took Cassie aside. “You know, today was special not just because we won, but because I got to share it with you,” he said softly.

“I had the best day, Daddy! Can we come to every race together?” she asked, her eyes wide with hope.

“Of course, sweet pea. Every race, if you want. You’ll always be my lucky charm,” Lewis replied, giving her a warm hug.

The day ended with fireworks illuminating the sky, and Cassie watched in awe, her heart full. She had stepped into a world of speed and excitement, and in doing so, had forged an unforgettable bond with her father. As they headed back to their hotel, Cassie rested her head on Lewis’s shoulder, dreaming of race tracks and fast cars, knowing that this was just the beginning of their adventures tog

[incognit0slut]

Just honestly anything with husband/dad!reid

(Fluff, Sexual innuendo) Dad!Spencer x Mom!Reader. 1.1k

You’re flabbergasted at how much your son resembles your husband.

-

The resemblance was uncanny. You'd like to think that after nine months of carrying your child, he would at least look a little something like you. Sure, there were your eyes, and Spencer never failed to mention his adorable nose resembled yours. Yet beyond those traits, he was undeniably your husband's little doppelganger.

You watched in awe as they nestled together on the couch, engrossed in one of Spencer’s documentaries. Though you knew you’d seen it before, your attention wasn’t fixated on the TV screen, but on the sight before you.

How could they look so much alike?

It wasn’t just the matching mop of curly brown hair or the glasses resting on their noses; it was their shared mannerisms that truly struck you. From the focused furrow of their brows to the way they leaned in attentively, it was as if Oliver was a miniature version of his father.

You saw Spencer leaning forward, gesturing toward the screen. "See, magnets have north and south poles, and opposite poles attract each other while like poles repel. It's all about the magnetic field they create."

"Opposites attract?"

"Opposite poles, like north and south, pull towards each other," Spencer explained, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "While poles that are the same, like two norths or two souths, push away. It's all because of the magnetic field they generate."

Oliver nodded eagerly, taking in the information. "So, it's like they're drawn to each other because they're different?"

"Exactly," Spencer agreed, giving Oliver a proud smile. "Just like how sometimes, people with different personalities or interests can be drawn to each other because they complement each other."

"Like you and mom?"

Your husband smiled. "What makes you say that?"

Oliver shrugged. "Well, you like books and learning things, and Mom loves art and cooking. You're different, but you're together."

Spencer chuckled. "You know, you're absolutely right. Your mom and I might be different, but we complement each other very well."

"Are you guys talking about me?"

The two of them whipped their heads as they saw you enter the room.

"Mom!" Oliver cheered, jumping off the couch to tackle you with a hug, wrapping his small arms around your legs. You laughed as his embrace nearly knocked you off balance, returning his hug with warmth.

“Hey there, buddy.”

"You’re back,” Spencer greeted from the couch. "How was girls day out?"

"Amazing, Aunt Penelope took me to the spa," you replied. "It was so relaxing, very therapeutic... until I realized how much I missed you both."

Spencer's smile widened at your words. "We missed you too.”

“What’s therapeutic?”

Spencer turned to Oliver, his smile growing as he considered how to explain. “Well, therapeutic is when something makes you feel calm and relaxed, like the spa did for Mom.”

Oliver nodded, absorbing his words with interest. “So, like when I play with my Legos and it makes me feel happy?”

You grinned, ruffling Oliver’s hair affectionately. “That’s right, doing things you enjoy can be very therapeutic for your mind and body.”

Your son, who was still clinging to your legs, looked up with bright eyes. "Can we have a movie night now that you’re back? I think it can be therapeutic.”

You chuckled at Oliver’s suggestion, feeling a surge of affection for his sweet innocence.

“A cozy movie night with my two favorite guys? Now that’s what I call therapeutic,” you replied, giving his head another gentle ruffle. “But first, why don't you put these in the kitchen?"

His eyes widened with curiosity as he peered at the plastic bag in your hand. "What's in there?"

You grinned, holding up the bag for him to see. "Some snacks Aunt Penelope packed for us. Why don't you take them to the kitchen while Dad and I set up the movie?"

Oliver's face lit up with excitement as he eagerly took the bag from you. "Sure thing, Mom!" he exclaimed before dashing off to the kitchen.

Spencer chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "His enthusiasm is contagious."

You nodded in agreement as you walked over to him. "I wonder where he got that from."

Spencer grinned playfully, wrapping an arm around your waist as you joined him on the couch. "Hmm, I wonder."

"That boy resembles you more each day."

Spencer’s grin widened at your observation, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. “I suppose he’s taking after his old man.”

“He definitely has your enthusiasm and curiosity,” you remarked, your gaze drifting fondly toward Oliver as he bustled about in the kitchen.

“And your appetite for food, it seems,” he added, nodding towards the snacks Oliver had eagerly pulled out from the bag.

You laughed, the warmth of his embrace filling you with a sense of contentment. “He’s got good taste,” you quipped, leaning in for a kiss. "Ask me what else I did today."

"What else did you do today?" Spencer asked with a playful grin, his arm still around your waist as he pulled you closer before pressing his lips on yours in a sweet, innocent kiss.

You smiled against his lips, savoring the tender moment before pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. "Well," you began, your voice soft, "I booked a wax appointment."

His grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of mild surprise. "Oh?"

"Yep, do you wanna see it later?" Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly and you chuckled. All these years of marriage and he still managed to get flustered whenever you tease him. “Aw, look at you blushing.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“It’s adorable,” you teased, giving his cheek a playful pinch before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his nose.

He sighed dramatically, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his mock annoyance. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You grinned, feeling a rush of affection for your husband. “And you’re lucky you married me,” you retorted. “So, what do you say to a nice, warm bubble bath and one of my awesome massages with a happy ending?”

“You know I can’t say no to that.” His gaze then fell to the length of your body. “Do I get a preview now?”

Your head fell back as you laughed. “Spencer Reid, your kid is in the next room.”

“Our kid,” he corrected gently.

"Dad!" Your son's voice suddenly echoed through the house. "I can't reach the plates!"

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly as he realized your son was within earshot, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled, his gaze flickering to you with a sheepish smile.

You shared a knowing look with him before turning your attention to Oliver. “I’ll help you out, sweetie,” you called back, already moving towards the kitchen.

Spencer followed close behind, his arm wrapping around your waist. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”

You shook your head in amusement. Parenthood certainly had a way of interrupting even the most romantic of moments, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/n: i’m sorry this is bad i wrote this half-conscious (i’m sick)

[cxffecoupx]

cheol as a boy dad

boy dad! seungcheol fluff, requested warnings: reader has a womb, cheol being down bad for his baby boy word count: 705 author's notes: requested by anon (thank you so much!!) I hope you like it. i never really thought about boy dad cause cheol's definitely a girl dad for me but I loved writing this so much! Lemme know what you think :) check out 'cheol as a girl dad' here.

boy dad! cheol who starts crying in the hospital seeing a junior version of him. his big boba eyes are yours, no doubt, but the little pout that finds home on his baby's lips are unmistakably his — even he can't deny it. his eyes start watering when his baby boy holds his index finger with his whole palm.

boy dad! cheol who litters gentle kisses on your sweaty face, murmuring the sweetest of praises on how you did so well and how your baby is a sweet healthy boy who looks like the best of them both. your tears melt into his as you both happily sob over this moment of joy.

boy dad! cheol who you always find around your baby, smiling and cooing at him, playing with him and his toys and always bringing a wide grin to your baby's face. the child's laughter fills your little home and you can't help but sigh in content.

boy dad! cheol who always traces the baby's features delicately: the eyes that reflect the same shine that yours hold, the lips that pout the same way he does, the little button nose and the cheeks that seungcheol withholds the urge to bite because they're so chubby and so.... biteable (the cuteness aggression is so real right now!!)

boy dad! cheol who loves to dress your child in matching clothes as his. you search for seungcheol as you browse through the women's section, only to find him approaching you with two same shirts in different sizes. everytime you all go out you stand out because you're walking around with two same people, just different fonts.

boy dad! cheol who wraps his hands around your waist and kisses your neck, surprising you as you make dinner. who always takes time to appreciate you about all the struggles you had to deal with during the pregnancy, and how you've made him more happy than any man in this world.

you turn around and start kissing him, but just as things were about to dive deeper, your little trouble-maker stumbles up to you both and starts tugging on your pants. seungcheol grabs the child and tucking him in between you both, gives you and your child a bone-crushing hug that ends up making your son giggle endlessly. cheol gently whispers how he's holding his world in his arms right now, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.

boy dad! cheol who pouts and whines everytime your son ignores him and runs to you. you don't realise how, but your son takes more liking to you, running to you first whenever you return home from somewhere, or whenever he needs something. although seungcheol loves to see it, he lowkey hates how he's just left there, hands outstretched for a hug hanging in the air. he dramatically falls to the floor, kicking his feet and whining which makes your son run from your arms to fall onto his dad's chest, giggling with how cheol tickles him.

boy dad! cheol who gets so excited to take your son to the first day of his school. although having to leave him makes his sad, he's excited for his son's new step in his life and will be all ears to hear him talk all about whatever happened at school. he sneakily gives his son a sweet treat without you knowing (it's their little secret now) as he tells everything he learnt in class that day.

boy dad! cheol who always teaches his son to respect everyone he meets in his life. he hopes that his son learns from watching the way he treats you, his wife, with all the love and respect he could give. he hopes that one day, when his son grows up, he treats his wife the same way seungcheol treats you now.

boy dad! cheol who, even though secretly wished for a baby girl, becomes extremely elated with his precious little baby boy, in whom he sees both you and him. hes feels like the luckiest man on earth — with a wife he loves with every inch of him and a lovely son who he wants to keep happy for the rest of his life. his little, happy family.

[satoruhour]

a/n: something possessed me and i just started writing ... / 1.2k

warnings: age gap (reader in 20s and in uni, nanami in his late 30s), oral / cunnilingus, doggy, daddy kink, implied overstim, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, like brief fingering?, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

thinking about dad’s best friend!nanami who helps you to move into your university dormitory, arms flexing against his tight dark blue shirt as you try not to stare. it’s unbecoming, eyes trailing over the sweat dripping down his forehead, the sharp lines of his jawline and furrowed brows, espeically since he met your dad long ago when he first joined the company, seeing you from time to time in your father’s office in high school. but nanami never thought he’d see you to grow up to be the woman you are today, moving into your very own room with a bright smile — ready to take on your major and the world.

“everything in?” your dad asks with tears in his eyes and you simply push his shoulder, telling him how i’ll be fine, dad! before hugging him in between boxes and plastic bags. just behind him, nanami shoots you a gentle smile too, recalling on the times when he’s seen you help out at the office in your gap year, where you slip in little sandwiches on your lunch breaks. he thinks it’s you wanting to revisit old times where your father would buy danish pastry just for you to give it to the blonde man, but you’re hoping to melt his stoicism even further to the point of wanting things to happen — things you didn’t even want to admit out loud — with how fine nanami has aged over the years.

but one visit turned into two. the second one with your dad where rather, they talked while you worked on an assignment, but you enjoyed both of their presence. two turned into three — the third where nanami has already memorised how many steps it would take to reach your room. three turned into five, and five turned into nine where his hand would wander past your bedsheets and onto your figure, where casual talk about his work turned into conversations about you and what you liked. but nanami was always afraid of crossing over.

it was the tenth visit where dad’s best friend!nanami shows up sweaty and panting like he needs to tell you something, but when your eyes drift down to the hand he tries to hide the gears click in your head. it was only fifteen minutes ago that nanami has himself cooped up in the admin toilet downstairs, fist pumping his cock impatiently while he imagines your tits in front of his face, bouncing. where your hips do the same, whining out into his neck as your pussy clenches and gushes around him. it’s because he was interrupted by a knock that the first thing he did was to come here, but he wasn’t thinking straight. that all fades away when your hand cups his bulge, squeezing slightly that nanami wants to unbuckle his pants, but you drag him into your room before he can do it.

dad’s best friend!nanami who has your panties stuffed into your mouth as he eats you out on the dormitory bed, slurping every last bit of your juices up while his mouth works wonders on your dripping cunt. “nanami-san! p-please—” it’s a struggle to talk through fabric but you manage to get the words out, hips starting to hump into his mouth, feeling nothing like this before in your life as he nibs and sucks on your clit. nanami hums into your pussy and his arms tighten around your thighs, “please what? words, baby, use your words.” you shiver at the timbre of his voice, alongside the smoothness in which he removes your underwear. “but not too loud, or else everyone in school will know what a dirty slut you are for your father’s best friend.”

dad’s best friend!nanami who has your face shoved into your my melody bedsheets as he pounds into you from behind, shirt held up by his teeth so he can the way you take just all of his fat cock. by now, he’s drawn out multiple orgasms after holding back on you for so long — it was a sight, a babbling, pathetic mess on the bed while your cum drips from your core right down to the sheets. it’s beyond easy to slip into your hole, and nanami has to squeeze your waist so hard to try not to cum that you’re telling him to loosen his grip and he apologises with kisses down your back. he’s only kissed you once so far so you moan into the second kiss that night, hips moving back onto his pelvis before he slams his length right into you.

dad’s best friend!nanami’s demeanour changes altogether after that sweet, sensual kiss, pushing down on your arch before setting a pace, dick twitching from how tight and warm you felt around him. “can’t believe you kept this pussy from me for s’long…” nanami is entranced by his best friend’s daughter’s cunt, sucking him in so well he starts to realise that maybe buying sandwiches everyday wasn’t simply for reminsincing. you fight against his strong grip, smiling up at him, deliriously. “yeah? it’s all for you, daddy.” and nanami forgets his own rule, groaning out loud at the drop of the name as he continues to slam into you. it’s so wet and sticky, pre-cum mixed with your cum together with the slap of his balls on your ass, it was so fucking disgusting in that room and you loved it.

whines of “daddy’s” were all that was coherent from your mouth, headboard of the bed rocking with naanmi’s rough thrusts as you become more and more intoxicated on his cock. nanami easily removes his shirt, then, reaching an arm around and starts to rub your clit, feeling your pussy flutter around him before you’re jolting in surprise at the sudden orgasm, mouth going slack and your eyes seeing white from its intensity. nanami slows down just a little for you to adjust, but soon he rails into you again, low grunts leaving his lips before he’s asking where you want him to cum and he wants to burn your fucked out expression into his brain and seal your whimpers from ever escaping his thoughts.

“wan’ your cum in me, daddy— p-please!” you moan out, spreading your cheeks and pussy lips to tell him you were serious. “b-but—” nanami was getting lightheaded, your walls feel too good around him and he just wants to cum. “wonder what my dad would think having his best friend fill me with so much cum that he knocks me up? that would be exciting, right?” and nanami scoffs at what a filthy girl you are. sure, if you wanted his cum dripping out of your cunt while you attended lectures, while your joked with your dad, he’ll give it to you. he’ll give anything to you. there’s a choked moan that leaves nanami as he stills, pumping you full of his semen while your fingers close around the sheets and your pleas are muffled by them. you can fill each spurt of cum from his tip, flowing into you so well that it dribbles out from your pussy, pushing it out before there’s a swipe of nanami’s finger plunging into you.

“if my sweet girl wants my cum, she’s going to keep it in. well — after i give her a few more loads, of course.”

so many dorm escapades.. maybe im projecting a little cause is this so difficult to ask for???

[doumadono]

Hi, sweets 🍭 I'd like to request deaf Bakugo headcanons - just him interacting with his little girl that demands his attention as she wants him to play with her (she is aware dad is a little off because he can't hear)

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

As Bakugo's hearing begins to fade periodically with time, his little girl starts noticing the subtle changes.

The little girl, at the age of 5, struggles to understand why her dad doesn't always respond the way others do. When you, her mom, gently explains Bakugo's hearing challenges, the girl takes it all in, absorbing the information.

To bridge the gap, the little girl asks you to teach her some basic signs. With wide-eyed enthusiasm, she practices and learns the signs, eager to communicate better with her dad.

She comes up with creative ways to catch Bakugo's attention - a gentle tap on his lap, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze, or sometimes just grabbing one of the merchandise plushies you collect at home and presenting it to him.

deaf!Bakugo, in turn, has developed a keen sense of visual awareness to understand all of his little girl's signals.

Despite being aware that her dad is a bit different, she continues to demand his attention for playtime! deaf!Bakugo, unaware that his daughter is learning sign language, is pleasantly surprised one day when she excitedly signs to him, asking him to play with her. His heart brims with love and pride, witnessing the earnest effort she's making to connect with him, and he finds it challenging to hold back tears in the middle of the living room.

deaf!Bakugo often engages in games that don't rely heavily on sound but thrive on shared moments. Building intricate block towers, drawing colorful masterpieces, and playing with dolls become their cherished activities!

When it's playtime, Bakugo's face lights up with a soft smile as he watches his daughter's enthusiasm. He might not hear her words and laughter, but he feels the warmth of her joy radiating through the room.

deaf!Bakugo has developed a set of creative signals and cues to respond to his daughter's requests. Whether it's a gentle tap on the shoulder or a specific hand gesture, they have established their own silent language.

As deaf!Bakugo gradually loses his hearing completely, his daughter's ability to communicate with him through signs becomes an invaluable bridge that allows them to share laughter, love, and a world of understanding.

Despite being a hero and handling the challenges of his job, there are moments when deaf!Bakugo, alone in his office while working from home, breaks down. The silence around him reminds him of the laughter of his beloved little girl he can't hear anymore, and it hits him emotionally.

The very first time they finish playing with his daughter's dolls and plushies, Bakugo's heart melts and he can't hold back tears as his little girl approaches him, using sign language to say, "Thank you for playing with me. I love you, Daddy."

The girl is a little scared seeing her dad crying as it is an extremely rare sight. So, she climbs onto his lap, strokes his rough cheeks marked by many scars from the battles he fought, and signs at him, "Daddy, don't cry, I love you. I'll hug you, and it will be okay."