chronicdisasterwrites - Tumblr blog

chronicdisasterwrites · 3 months

Text

under the clouds, in my heart | g. satoru

it’s these kinds of days that make Satoru the happiest — that remind him of the wonderful things he has in his life now; thunderstorms where his wife and children are safe and protected inside of his home are all he could ask for

w — post canon! gojo, canon-divergence, pregnant! reader, former first-year student! reader, mentions of underage relationship, mentions of being in a former! student-teacher relationship, Papa Satoru & Mama Reader, Satoru and Reader have a (growing) big family, this ended up shorter than I anticipated

a/n: another fix it fic you guys 🤧 this one has been in my drafts longer than 236

[ apart of the TFFTS universe! ]

He loves seeing you cozied up in his sweaters, no matter the time of year (he secretly keeps it colder than normal in the summertime so you’ll put them on, but he’ll never tell you that). He loves how the hemline rests at your knees, a testament to the cute height difference between the two of you.

With your pregnancy belly, like now, sweaters only seem reach mid-thigh.

Ah, he’s not complaining.

He’s back from a mission overseas a day early, one he committed to speed-running like a demon so he could get back to his growing family. It wasn’t too necessary, considering he doesn’t have to do many more missions nowadays. The only reason he was summoned was because of his long, long influence, to which he most definitely used to get back faster.

But the universe hits his Pause button the second he warps back into his lovely home. For good reason. His heavenly blue eyes take in the scene in front of him, soul imprinting this memory into itself for eternity.

Seiji, his five-nearly-six year-old firstborn, was curled up on your lap, head using your thighs as a makeshift pillow. Traitor. Satoru can hear little snores escaping his lips at the awkward position his head is in. But if Satoru tilts his head, he can see his son’s protective decision from where his head and body lay.

Sanari, his sweet daughter, is curled up by your left arm. Her white curls of hair are splayed out on the pillow behind her as her head rests on your shoulders. Satoru chuckles. He can clearly see drool at the corner of her mouth pooling onto the sweater of his you’re wearing.

Lightning lights up the sky outside. And suddenly, the gushing sound of rain is all Satoru can hear — a downpour. Huh, the clouds had been just as white as his hair earlier. He supposes anything can happen though.

He can’t even see outside anymore now. The greenery has been completely overtaken by the opaque gray of the intense rain and thunderstorm.

Satoru’s head snaps back to you and his sleeping offspring. As much as he wants to join, he can’t bring himself to. He wants to do anything besides ruin the picturesque moment in time before him.

Just look at the family he’s made for himself.

Ah, but the squirming toddler in your arms may do just that anyway. So he doesn’t debate taking Junpei from your arms as he begins to scrunch up his adorable little nose.

Besides, Satoru’s sure you’re bound to wake up soon. His Six Eyes tells him that because the cursed energy from within your tummy is starting to become restless, the twins are finally waking up.

A big family hadn’t been on his mind. You both agreed on leaving your family with Junpei as your youngest. Especially with you falling pregnant so soon with him after having trouble with Sanari’s pregnancy and birth.

But things don’t always go to plan, do they? Satoru muses.

Taking the littlest that'll soon be a big brother wakes you from your nap. You inhale and exhale deeply as your eyes flutter open, blinking quite a few times before your vision clears.

“….’toru~” Your sleepy inhale sounds like a cute sniffle; he can’t help but grin. “You’re home?”

“Surprise, baby,” Satoru mumbles as he sits down and leans over the couch and over your pregnant belly to sweetly kiss your lips. “I’ll be home for awhile this time,” he adds softly. One arm holds his son, the other wraps around the back of your shoulders, hand resting on your upper arm to gently pull your body into him to deepen the kiss. You can’t help but giggle against his lips, and he smiles and giggles into it in return.

Lightning brightens the sky, this time for the longest you’ve ever seen. And following it, is the mightiest thunderclap you’ve ever heard. It makes even your husband jump, surprised by the deafening boom. Your lips separate from Satoru’s, who’s looking out the window with you, impressed by the power of Mother Nature.

It wakes Seiji and Sanari, who despite their maturity for their age, show their age by the fat tears pooling at their eyelids. Junpei, fully awake, begins to cry too, slightly louder than his older siblings. The toddler buries himself into his daddy’s shoulder for comfort and protection. And when the other two see their dad, who’s back home early, they jump to him and do the exact same, hugging him and burrowing into his chest and neck.

You’d take a picture had your babies not been so scared.

When your hand rubs Seiji’s back, the little boy turns to you, eyes watery with fear. He takes two little steps on the couch and softly stumbles into your outstretched arms. He rests his bottom on your thigh, head burrowed into the crook of your neck, little hands balled up into fists with the sweater you were wearing between his itty bitty fingers.

“Come on, Seiji. Off Mama’s belly,” Satoru says, a slight tinge of worry to his voice as he sees him lay a little too heavily on your rounded middle.

The little boy gasps lightly and moves. “Sorry, Mama. Sorry babies.”

You chuckle and kiss his tiny forehead. Satoru presses his lips to the side of his son’s temple, his free hand reaching for his sides to tickle him, saying things about how cute he was.

Sanari takes the moment to detach from her daddy’s side and dives back into your ribs, albeit much more carefully than her older brother. She sniffles, still scared from the clash of thunder, but much calmer now that both her parents were home and awake. She burrows her head under your arm, almost behind your back, leaving her nose room to breathe in the cool air and the sweater that smells like both you and her papa.

It’s so cute, Satoru thinks. She’s the complete opposite of him. She’s the more quiet and reserved one of her siblings. And he still suspects that she still will after her younger twin siblings will be born. Satoru has a feeling, knows in his gut that they’ll be the most extroverted of his children, bouncing off the walls just like he does every day.

Though not so much anymore, heh. He’s still a childish person at heart, but his age is slowly getting to him, slowly beginning to chip away at his ability to be the flamboyant jujutsu sorcerer he used to be. He can feel the ache of time and age begin to take root in the bones of his body that had been so tempered.

In its place, however, took fatherhood, took a new and different kind of responsibility that he was more than excited for — days filled with new challenges, watching his kids grow as he smothers them with love.

His former students were more than capable of handling the load he used to. There’s plenty more of them nowadays than there is of him. With most of them all Special Grade sorcerers, too, he muses. Including you. But you don’t partake in missions like that, mostly being in the reserves of jujutsu society and using your reverse cursed energy like Shoko has.

Especially since becoming a mom.

Satoru sees the rainy day lulling you back to sleep. Being five-and-a-half months pregnant with twins, while also caring for three more while her husband was away would make any woman tired.

His offspring, however, were wide awake.

“Go upstairs and go to sleep,” Satoru says quietly. He sees the waves of fatigue hit every time you blink several times in one go. Your happy expression is getting harder to hold as you grow tired all over again, and Satoru thinks he’s going to have to carry you upstairs, fearing you falling.

But you, ever-stubborn, refuse. “I’m okaaay,” you reply, yawning into the words.

The white-haired man chuckles and shakes his head. “Go to bed,” he says, this time in a more commanding tone. “I’ll wake you up in a couple hours with food ready.”

And when he makes that face, the cutesy one that also means he’s more than happy to carry you to bed, you don’t argue. He does, however, help you up off the couch and watches from the bottom of the stairs to make sure you lose balance and tip backwards. Satoru blows you a kiss, to which you chomp down at, mock-devouring his kisses. He gasps, fake offended, and it gets the giggle out of you he’s hoping for before you go into the bedroom.

Satoru’s heart swells with adoration and love. It overflows even more as he turns back to his two sons and his daughter. God, he almost wants to cry. What did he do to deserve such happiness in his life? After everything he’s done, that’s happened to him, when did the universe decide a beautiful wife and sweet, adorable children were in the cards for him?

He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s going to hold his family close to his heart and protect them until his last breath.

a/n: this got published at a completely random time lmao, where did this even come from? this’ll flop for sure but everyone who reads pls enjoy anyway

#my poor heart #thank you for such a domestic wonder #papa gojo has my heart #gojo satoru #jjk #fic recs❗️

741 notes · View notes

chronicdisasterwrites · 3 months

Text

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔... never thought that in a million years he would be using his six eyes to play hide 'n seek with little kids.

his own little kids for that matter.

you always told your children that their father had good eyes, but they've never believed you till now. you're seated on the sofa next to your blindfolded husband, head leaning on his shoulder as you both take in the shenanigans of your young children.

"where am i, daddy?" the youngest chirps, teetering on her feet behind the sofa in the living room.

"hm. let me guess." your husband chuckles, just to fuel your daughter's antics.

he knows exactly where she stands and what soft, fuzzy pieces of the carpet tickle her little toes as she sways back and forth in her little pink princess dress. your husband's black bandage is wrapped around his eyes, and your children stifle their giggles as he pretends to ponder.

"he can't see us, can he?" the oldest whispers.

you shake your head with a soft smile.

a beat of silence before your husband speaks again.

"you're behind the sofa, aren't you, my little flower?" gojo speaks, and a fit of his daughter's girlish giggles makes his heart feel as warm as springtime.

"okay, but where am i, dad?" the oldest asks from where he's perched on a pillow in the center of the room.

"hmm." gojo hums. "you're sitting on mommy's favorite pillow. you're right in front of me."

a soft gasp is drawn from your son, and you watch as gojo lifts the black blindfold. he gives you a playful wink when the kids aren't looking before adjusting the blindfold.

"that's not fair!" the oldest protests. "is he cheating?"

you laugh.

"your father is definitely not cheating." you wave your hand in front of his blindfolded eyes. "see?"

your son pouts.

"that's so cool, daddy!" the youngest smiles. "can we do it again?"

"if mommy says yes." gojo replies, voice smooth as ever.

two pairs of puppy eyes meet yours.

when you say yes, they both cheer happily.

and one day they'll grow old, and he'll tell them about his six eyes and his keen gifts and treasures. his kids will grow up and gasp, shocked that their father really did have exceptional eyesight. they'll laugh and remember the times their father used to play with them, and look at those childhood memories fondly. but for now they're still little and full of light and spirit, hearts warm and tummies full with the dinner you made them an hour ago.

"okay, go hide again!" gojo chuckles, and his children scurry off with pattering feet.

your husband presses his lips to your shoulder gently before slipping his blindfold back on. a silent thanks.

he'll let children be children.

after all, no one is allowed to take the youth from young people, not even himself.

#YOUR WRITING #OMG #YOU ARE AMAZING #papa!gojo #fic recs❗️#stop it 😭❤️#but dont stop pls #jjk #gojo satoru

11K notes · View notes

chronicdisasterwrites · 3 months

Note

Hi love! I was wondering for a little request here: how would the adult gang (Gojo, Geto, Nanami) act around a girl who’s very academically serious and put together, but it’s also very airheaded and silly when she’s comfortable with them?

Thanks for the writings! They’re lovely!

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

♡ pairing: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento x fem!reader (seperate) ♡ content: fluff, crack ♡ warnings: none ♡ authors note: THIS IS LITERALLY SO ME ! ! im also book smart but not really logical common sense smart i fear ! i hope u enjoyed this , thanks for requesting sweets 💌💌 this is so funny 😭😭😭 i had so much fun writing it !

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔... thinks you're a no fun stick in the mud the first time he meets you. you stand stiffly in the back of the coffee shop listening to your own music without an expression on your face as you mix together his cold foam drink. after miraculously getting your number and landing a few dates with you, it's like you are an entirely different person. you aren't serious at all with him, and your cold demeanor immediately melts away when you see him these days. however, gojo still calls you prickly just to get under your skin and mess with you.

"are you giving me the silent treatment?" gojo whines, laying his head on your arm. it wasn't his fault! he had no idea you had leftovers in the fridge from last night. but when you huff, he immediately recalls the image in his head when you exhaled similarly the day you met him.

"you're kinda hot when you're all serious like this. hehe— ow!" 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔... is completely fascinated when you explain to him the significance of the romanticism era. you've always had a knack for heavily researching things that interest you, and this week it seems you have chosen paintings. his head rests on your lap as you babble about your latest interest and scroll through your phone with his occasional hums that let you know he's still listening. all of a sudden, a soft giggle escapes you and geto glances up at you. what was so funny?

"babe, look at this video," you giggle, showing him the phone and completely forgetting about your ramble on francisco goya's piece. geto sits up, a bit dumbfounded when he realizes you had been giggling over a video of a three-minute compilation of a dog chasing it's own tail. was this the same woman who spent hours researching the culture behind the romanticism era? geto only chuckles, pressing a kiss to the side of your face as you loop the stupid video, completely forgetting about your rant. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎... admires your intelligence. hell, you're one smart and calculated cookie, even more so than himself sometimes. so, when he finds you cooped up at your desk, typing away furiously on your laptop, he becomes a bit curious as to what you're doing. he stands at the doorway, leaning against the frame with his suit jacket in hand. you seem to be writing something down on a notepad, gaze ever so concentrated you don't see him enter the room.

"busy with work?" he asks, watching you write something down that looks a lot like solving an equation on your notepad. you shake your head.

"what is it then?" nanami questions, a bit dumbfounded by your usual bubbly antics until you show him the paper with your notes.

"if i can manage to shoot this bullet at this angle at this projectile trajectory while considering the bullet's propulsion, gravity, and aerodynamic drag over the distance of approximately 100 yards in game while considering the initial and final velocity, i can properly blow off the enemy team and gain ten seconds for my own team to regroup and attack!" you giggle, pointing at the completed notes with calculations and illustrated graphs.

nanami's jaw goes completely slack.

"what is this for again?" your lover asks, studying your notes.

"roblox, of course!"

#fic recs❗️#jjk #this was so nice to read

285 notes · View notes

chronicdisasterwrites · 3 months

Text

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✘ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

❤︎ synopsis: drawing snowflakes on winter windows always sounds fun, doesn't it? ❤︎ pairing: husband!nanami kento x fem!reader ❤︎ contents: fluff ❤︎ wc: 1.2k ❤︎ authors note: here's a treat ! i hope ure all well ! 💌 tagging: @sweeteaas @i-likebread @123hongkong-blog @r0ckst4rjk

the sound of little pattering feet can be heard from a mile away. it's finally the beloved winter season, and the snowflakes are finally beginning to stick. the house feels all the warmer with fleece blankets, hot chocolate, and the sight of familiar red and gold christmas decorations scattered in your house and glimmering in warm lighting. winter mornings feel so beautiful and are deliciously paired with a cup of hazelnut coffee or black tea. you stand in the kitchen alone, gazing out of the large windows nearby in an attempt to soak up every moment.

the snowflake flurries seem to multiply by the second, and you realize the white sprinkles come down faster than you thought they were initially.

perhaps work will be cancelled tomorrow.

"mama!" a little voice chirps, the footsteps getting faster as you hear your little one travel from down the carpeted stairs to the cold hardwood floor of the foyer. you wait for the steps to get louder before sitting up, recognizing your daughter's eyes immediately because in every way and better, she is her father's daughter.

"good morning, miu," you smile fondly at the little jellybean whose bright pink scarf is thrown over her shoulders carelessly. she must've been in a hurry to run around in the cold and snow.

your heart warms at the sight of her hair sticking to her face. your baby girl was dressed in her warm jacket, fuzzy pants, and floaty skirt to protect her from the cold. her father must've dressed her this morning, you recognize his style anywhere... even on his mini me.

"good morning, pretty," a low voice rumbles, and your lover comes into view dressed just as warmly.

nanami and miu always raced down the stairs in the morning, and every day he always let his baby girl win.

you reach up, automatically moving to fix the cloth of his teal scarf and check the metal clasps of his jacket. nanami presses his lips to your forehead as a thank you.

"my loves are all ready for the snow, aren't they?" you grin, sharing a gentle gaze with nanami as miu waddles over to the large window. she puts both hands on the fogged glass, squealing as the cold playfully nips her palms.

baby's first snow.

nanami chuckles at the sight of miu entirely enamored at the snowflakes and cold. her eyes are so round and curious... and he still can't believe the angels brought him miu, a product of his love and devotion to someone as sweet as you.

"now, look at this, baby doll," nanami speaks, crouching by the window to her level as they stare at the same window.

he lifts a slender finger to the windowpane, drawing a heart shape on the cold fogged glass.

miu's gaze follow's her father's finger before looking back up at him and sticking her little baby finger out. she mimics the same movements, and now there is a lopsided baby heart right next to nanami's larger one. nanami will definitely tease you for the face you're making later, that lovesick smile he could never get bored of seeing.

"mama..." miu babbles, shooting you an expectant gaze.

she wants you to draw a heart on the window too.

you quickly take her right side, crouching with your husband and daughter as you draw a little heart with your left pointer finger on the window too. there display three hearts in the clouded window, all a bit different looking but nonetheless full of love. miu giggles happily, dragging her finger over the hearts to draw little faces on them with her stubby fingers.

nanami smiles fondly at his daughter. he's always held such adoration for children exploring the world in their own quirky ways.

after filling the window with little scribbles and doodles, miu moves to the next fogged window to claim her next canvas. he stands with you, resting a heavy hand on your hip as your side presses into his as daughter continues her antics without a care in the world.

"what is it?" you tilt your head at his sudden affections, but nanami only fights a shy smile and adverts his gaze.

"this is great," he says, "everything is great... just like this."

he wraps his arms around your waist, leaning down to you. he turns his head downward, hiding it in the sharp of your shoulder.

you laugh at how soft he's become now that he's a father. his stern gaze only ever now searches for his baby doll in a crowd of preschoolers; his hard, calloused hands only ever now has the duty of taking care of bath time and making warm dinners on the weekend. he doesn't have to worry about curses or losing someone dear to him anymore... that time is over.

"papa, look!" miu giggles, snapping him out of the tender moment.

the blonde man's head shoots upward at the call of his daughter, where he realizes she's drawn on all the fogged windowpanes except for the top ones she can't reach without a stool or standing on her father's shoulders. the doodles range from hearts, stars, basic elementary shapes with dots for eyes, swirls, and her handwriting in wobbly letters.

nanami smiles, leaving your side to pick up his daughter. miu giggles in his arms, and he sets her on his broad shoulder with secure hands as she continues tracing shapes on the higher windows.

by the end of the day, the windows are entirely covered with doodles made with the warmth of skin and winter's cold.

surely you thought that the cold would've fogged the windows again, hiding any evidence that a four-year old's fingerprint was on the glass, but it hasn't. the doodles are still as prominent as they were hours ago when they were drawn on.

"you know, she might be an artist one day," nanami says seriously, but you can't help but smile.

"is that so?" your eyes glimmer at the sight of miu buried under the warm blankets, tucked into nanami's side. his poor baby doll passed out after a day of fun, and very cold, winter activities. your hands are warmed by the hot mug of tea in your blanketed lap, and you lean on his shoulder affectionately.

"you don't want her to go into finances? just like her father did?" you taunt playfully, "none of that salaryman work?"

nanami chuckles deeply.

he knows what you're doing.

"god, i hope not," he responds just as honestly, his eyes focused on the brick-colored velvet of the hanging stockings before going back to the twinkling lights on the tree.

the little flurries outside have stopped momentarily, dusting the branches of trees outside and covering the once recognizable greenery with white powder.

"i'm glad we used plastic ornaments this year," you chuckle, remembering the time miu waddled around with a glass ornament and accidentally dropped it against the marble floor.

needless to say, that glass ornament did not make it to this year's christmas.

"i'd be surprised if she can break these plastic ones too," your husband tuts, clearly entertained by the thought of his innocent baby girl aggressively tearing apart a plastic, teardrop shaped decoration.

"if she breaks these i think that's definitely a sign to get her in with the jujutsu society," you giggle, and nanami rolls his eyes playfully.

"don't start. i don't want my baby girl anywhere near gojo satoru."

#my desire to have a child at 21 is skyrocketing #please #nanami come into my life #and give me a child #fic recs❗️#nanami kento #jjk

231 notes · View notes

chronicdisasterwrites · 3 months

Photo

833K notes · View notes

chronicdisasterwrites · 3 months

Text

THE ASMR 💀 why you gotta attack me like that-

moving jitters.

“babe, please.”

the quiet of your bedroom (save for the ceiling fan rattling above you) is broken by the sound of sheets rustling and your boyfriend groaning as he rolls over.

“sorry,” you whisper, quickly swiping down on your phone and turning the brightness to its minimum. “didn’t mean to wake you up.”

eren slings an arm over you. “what time is it? wait— i don’t wanna know.” he mumbles, voice thick and ragged with sleep. “why the hell are you still awake?”

your voice is meek as you pout. “looking at rugs. do you think we can get that one i showed you delivered on time while everything else is being moved in?”

“probably. but baby—“

“and should we go with the taupe and shoal colors or the olive and stone? i know our furniture is black, but the walls are white - well, more of a cream color - so maybe getting a lighter color will help balance things out—“

eren’s hand fumbles over your chest and covers your mouth with a quiet smack. “can this not wait til tomorrow..? you’re killing me. please just go to sleep.”

“i can’t,” you whine against his palm. your warm, spearmint-scented breath bounces back to your skin. “we’re gonna be moving in two days from tomorrow.”

“i know. i already paid for the u-haul.”

“yeah, but…”

the hand over your mouth squeezes your cheeks. you see eren’s silhouette rise as he clumsily props himself up on his elbows to lean over you. his hair is still damp from his shower earlier and grazes your cheeks as it flops over his eyes.

“but nothing,” he says. “we’re not gonna die if we don’t have a rug in our bedroom on day one. i promise. so play your asmr or whatever the hell you listen to, put your phone down, shove your face in my tits, and go to bed.”

an indignant huff escapes your lips before you do as he says, letting him gather you in his arms and press a drowsy kiss to your hairline as his breathing slows again.

“…eren?”

“what.”

“should we get different curtains—“

“bed.”

i’m moving and i can’t sleep and i’m seeing home improvement webpages in my dreams. also i miss eren

#so cute omfg #i love it #bbg ereh #eren jaeger #aot #fic recs❗️

1K notes · View notes

chronicdisasterwrites · 3 months

Text

stfu stop STOP 😭😭😭😭

that funny little girl ෆ also known as, papa! gojo satoru who takes bath time so very seriously, he cries about it.

note! ⭑ gender neutral reader · he’s the happiest girl dad ever · he washes her hair in the bath · canon divergent au · fluff · we bounce around the timeline three times but that’s Fine ! ! 2k :<

“daddy?” his baby calls for him, satoru, who happens to be sitting right beside her bath— criss-crossed legs, paying less and less mind to the cold tile floor that’s making his skin shiver, and more on what she has to say.

“yeah baby?” he’s just down the hall, but you’ve begun to pick apart how his voice, with every syllable, sounds so fond when he speaks to her: his baby, forever his baby.

you hear the gentle hum she hums for a quick second, the mumbling, jumbling of her words as she sorts out what she wants to use and then, “why’s the sky blue?”

there’s a bathtub marker in her hand when she asks, the same ones satoru was so incredibly persistent on buying at your last shopping store run—

“bathtub markers?” he hears the quirk in your eyebrow before he has a chance to see it, holding the pack of 8 in his hand like it’s the newest and greatest invention yet.

“yup! we need them!” he stands side by side with his mini me— silly puppy dog eyes matching their faces and dramatic pouts fixed to both their lips.

he whispers what he thinks you won’t hear, covering his lips behind the palm of his hand as he kneels to her side, “pssst…” he’s hissing comically loud, “we need to say please, sunshine.”

“pease!” no please— she’s much cuter about this whole ordeal than he is— nodding her head as she swings her feet back and forth, fluttering around without a sound.

what’s harder than saying no to her? satoru would vote it’s probably saying “goodbye!”

your heart glows a little brighter, too impossible to resist— “‘toru, it sounds like you want them more than she does.” grabbing the bundle of colors, you flip them to the side, skimming through its directions and their warnings.

“me?! are you denying our precious girl of an artistic future?” there’s a hand over his face again, covering the gasping motion he’s let out, “that she’s not destined to be the next picasso?”

“she’s three! how would you know?” funny grins paint over both your faces because it’s a sweet thought: her future. who’ll she be and what’ll become of her.

“there’s an artist inside that little heart, i can feel it.” he’s determined to stick to the skit, crossing his arms over his chest and puffing with a promising certainty for it all.

it’s even funnier because he knows he’s won too— when you hand over the markers to your baby’s pudgy fingers— he has that face plastered on, same as every other time he’s won you over on something trivial.

“so honey,” you’re actively ignoring the cutest dimples on the corner of his smile, “what will you draw when you get home today?”

“f’owers” she points at the red marker, “for you!” an obvious reference to the dozen roses she’s seen on the dinner table.

“you’re so sweet! draw me the prettiest flowers, okay?” you boop the bubble of her nose and tiny pearly whites form a cheeky smile in return— “ahem. aren’t you forgetting someone?” satoru follows behind you both as you begin to stroll down the aisle again.

“and for daddy,” the coast is clear so you take the chance to stop and spread your arms as wide as you can, “you draw him the biggest blue sky that matches his eyes!”

she giggles at the dramatics, your stretched out arms and satoru’s loving gaze at you— she mimics these two things. “biiig sky ‘n daddy!” and it’s true, your satoru carries the biiig sky wherever he goes.

— “hmm.” he thinks hard about it. how exactly do you explain the color of the sky to a toddler?

he scoots in a little closer now, splashing sounds echoing around while she fidgets with the other toys in the bath, “so, the light from mr. sun is made of all the colors of the rainbow! do you know which ones?”

satoru picks out the markers in the pattern he’s learned it as— red, orange, yellow, green in her hand, blue, and the purple that seems the closest to violet.

she doesn’t look very interested. yet. you doubt it as long as there’s paddling toy turtles clicking across the bubbly water; her attention’s obviously elsewhere.

satoru uncaps the yellow marker first: forming one big, rigid circle against the shower wall that represents the sun— followed by streaks of all the other colors in his hands stretching away from it, representing light.

“like this,” he says, “all the colors of the rainbow.” he returns the green marker she had at first, happily holding onto the object again.

“but ms. earth” a cake of blue forms as the felt tip rolls around in one spot again, “likes blue the best. so, she makes her sky blue.” and with that, your baby blinks up at him like a doll— eyelashes woven into the perfect curl, and he wonders if he’s only confused her even more.

“oh.” it’s funny how somber-toned she sounds— oh. in the way you’ve just gotten your favorite show spoiled. the utter shock, the disbelief! oh. she says.

“just kidding!” he gleams now as she watches. apparently, it had been enough to grab her attention even for the slimmest second. he lays the markers back where she had them, within her reach.

“the sky’s blue because daddy’s eyes are blue.”

and if he gleams, his baby does too, “i knew it!”

(he will have to explain himself to you later. please forgive him and his little, white lie!)

“you did?” satoru settles his knees as close as he can to the tub now, minimizing all the space he can as he reaches for the shampoo bottle on the edge of the bath, “isn’t my little girl so clever? the smartest!”

she giggles, water splashing around as she moves closer towards her daddy’s arms— completely used to the routine by now, “like papa.”

he squeezes the bottle as his heart’s being squeezed too, watching lavender scented soap pour onto the palm of his hands, he smiles. “you think i’m clever, sunshine?”

“sometimes.” but she’s off in her own little world again, drawing on the wall with her favorite turtle beside her.

he supposes he will take what he can get.

with a gentle rinse to her hair, satoru begins to form a gentle lather along the crown of her head, “i want to be a clever daddy for you,” he says.

yes, it comes with no thought, as if the words have simply fallen to his tongue before they’ve reached his mind, “a good papa.”

and it’s happened so frequently, he jokes with you about how she must have some sort of technique to pull out the honest truth from anyone— even without trying to.

“you just love her, satoru.”

amidst the grogginess of the morning and eyes closed shut, you tell him that much. it’s all you can mutter out when your firefly of a husband rises before the sun.

he claims it’s the early morning clarity— when your mind is filled with everything and nothing, all you can do it spill your heart out.

he loves this part of the day with you.

“i do. a lot.” he says in one breath, just before shifting from being your big spoon to glancing over at the baby monitor on his bedside table for the nth time.

there she is: leg dangling off the bed. plushies used for pillows rather than the pillows themselves. beautiful.

it doesn’t scare him as much as it used to— the act of loving. the acting of giving it. and the act of admitting just how much he does.

“she loves you too.”

with the soapy suds spilling over his knuckles and getting between his fingers, satoru notices something new.

he twirls around the ends of her hair, silky, precious, and finds it’s starting to curl around the shell of her ear on its own— when he doesn’t remember it doing that before.

and as he lowers his gaze, the soapy lather following along, he sees the longest strands of his baby’s hair sticks to the back of her neck. nape, ears and shoulders all meeting someone new.

satoru forgets time goes by fast, “when did you start growing up so fast, sunshine?” when you’re filled with love to spare.

she simply shrugs.

the strength in his knees give out, landing him right back down onto the tile floor, feet tucked underneath his body. “mm, it’s too fast.” he’s murmuring so lowly, you can barely catch on to what’s been said.

too fast to watch her go— but don’t say it out loud, satoru doesn’t have the heart to finish or hear the rest.

because soon, she’ll be able to say please, even without him asking her to— she’ll be able to pronounce her l’s until she loses her two front teeth— because inevitably, that’s going to happen soon after.

and when that happens, it’ll only mean it’s almost time for kindergarten— and she’ll be leaving his side, a big girl now, with a lunch bag in one hand and a slipping backpack over her shoulder— because inevitably, that’s going to happen soon after too.

and if kindergarten is right around the corner, so is middle school. and so is high school. and so is college! and the rest of her life from then on— because inevitably, it’s going to happen one day— where satoru’s baby is no longer a baby. and he will have to let her go.

“‘toru?” he turns to you, towel in hand, leaning against the doorframe. “what’re you cryin’ about now, crybaby?”

your daughter turns to face him in a heartbeat. curious.

“who’s crying?” awkwardly, he nudges his cheek into his bicep to hide any evidence, big hands still in need of rinsing along with her hair. “not me!”

stepping closer, you hang the towel over the hook before sitting right next to his side, “yeaaah, because you’re never the crybaby.” you poke gently around his ribs.

“you’re starting to get me, sweetness.” then, he dips his fingers into the water, bubbly foam parting ways from his skin— it falls down her shoulders when he rinses her off, all done with the bath, and having a little time to play.

you watch him for a while. trying to identify the cause and while trying to make small talk, you mention something without much thought, “her hair’s a lot longer now—”

cracking voice, it’s tinier than you’ve ever expected it to be, “i know.” a little sniffle, “she’s growing up so fast.”

“so that’s what this is about?” a chuckle comes out of you.

“maybe.”

you rest your head onto his shoulder, feeling tender as ever, “you’re so cute, you know that?” he rests his in return. “if it makes you feel better, we still have hundreds of days together.” watching the way she doodles on the wall, you two enjoy her happiness as if it were your own.

“it doesn’t feel like enough.” he says.

“i don’t think it’ll ever be enough.” there’s a pause in your train of thought before you continue, “maybe we’re greedy like that, ‘toru.”

and he knows he is. because there’s a sun in the blue sky with red roses to accompany it all, just like she promised.

“finish!” she looks back at you and him, hands in the air in celebration of her masterpiece being born.

“oh! they’re so pretty!” there’s enthusiasm in your voice, giving her all the attention in the world. “just perfect!”

you begin to ask her the little things, “what’s this?” “what color is that?” “did you like drawing today?” all while wrapping her in the princess themed towel you hung up earlier.

satoru’s gotten up from the floor too, taking it all in until she calls for him again, “that’s you, daddy.” she points at the blue on the wall as you carry her back to her room.

his heart screams though he’s no longer crying, and he hopes this lifetime will be enough to love.

satoru hears your footsteps pattering further down the hall when your voice resounds again, “come on daddy, we need help picking out today’s pijamas!”

“papaaa, hurry!”

his heart screams though he’s no longer crying, as he listens to the water flow down the drain. capturing her first piece of art on his phone, he has very little to say.

but if he had to say it and if his baby asked him to, satoru would confess:

“i’m so happy. i’m so happy to love you.”

he is one soggy little man when it comes to his kids and i needed to speak on that !!!! not ooc. this actually happened. i was the turtle. trust me. believeeeee !!!! THAT’S HIS BABY !!!!!!!

#FUCK #THIS IS SO ADORABLE #i swear i didnt cry #crybabie(s)#gojo satoru #jjk #fic recs❗️

2K notes · View notes

chronicdisasterwrites · 4 months

Text

THE SWEET FAR THING — SNIPPET 2

Knight!Kyojuro x Princess!Reader

reuploading since there’s no reason for the community warning. If you reblogged and don’t mind doing it again, I appreciate you!!

CW: no smut but allusions to some trauma • suggestive. MDNI • dual POV

There, curled up on the floor against the plush velvet chaise before the great, marble hearth, was the princess.

She was still clad in his cloak, her fingers clenched tightly against its folds to keep it wrapped tightly around her form. If she’d noticed his intrusion into her private quarters, she gave no sign, for her eyes remained fixed unseeingly on the large fire crackling before her.

Kyojuro approached her slowly, much like he would a wounded animal to appraise whether it could be helped — or whether he’d need to put it out of its misery. He padded softly over the great rug sprawled across the floor, but drew short of her, choosing instead to lower himself to his knees before sinking back on his haunches.

“Your Highness?” He said gently, his voice barely louder than the comforting snap and crack of the logs in the hearth as they burned.

The Princess’s knees were drawn tight to her chest, and she cowered further against the carved leg of her chaise. From beneath the hem of his cloak, Kyojuro could spot the bruises already beginning to bloom on her thighs.

The Knight fought to keep his jaw relaxed, his face, open and unthreatening.

“Y/N?” He tried again. A surge of relief coursed through him as he noted how some of the stiffness of her limbs eased ever so slightly at his use of her given name.

Kyojuro shifted his position, allowing his thighs to part so that he could kneel comfortably upon the floor. “May I hold you?”

Y/N’s eyes snapped to his in a moment of shock, as though she’d just become aware that he was there. Slowly, she untangled herself from around her chaise and timidly scooted toward him, one hand still clutching tightly at the front of his cloak. Her eyes were wary, but recognition burned bright as she realized who he was and that he posed no threat.

She drew herself up to her knees, mimicking his own position. A moment of hesitation passed, and then she flung herself forward and into his arms.

He caught her easily, rocking back with her until he sat on the rug, the Princess braced between his thighs. He drew his legs up on either side of her, swallowing her trembling form in the comfort of his protective and soothing embrace.

A breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding loosened shakily from the cavern of his chest. One hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, and his other arm locked tightly around her waist, crushing her against him.

“Forgive me, Highness,” he said thickly, voice muffled by the way in which he’d buried his face into her shoulder. “Please forgive me for being unable to intervene; unable to protect you.”

—

“Princess — Y/N —“ Kyojuro turned away from your kiss, and his hands tightened around your waist in an attempt at restraint. “You’ve endured a great deal this night —“

“I will not sleep if I know he was the last to touch me,” you breathed, fingers tugging pleasingly at the collar of his tunic. “I need you to chase away all memory of him.”

“Please, Kyojuro — let something good come of this night,” you pled, your lips nearly touching his as you summoned every ounce of your strength to your hands, desperate to keep him there, as rooted to you and you were to him. “Let me remember what it is like to be touched as though I am loved; as though I matter.”

#kny #kyojuro rengoku #demon slayer #fic recs❗️

157 notes · View notes