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#my bitty button
cranberrytea451 · 8 months
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You have no idea how mad I am at him.
@etho-selunar131
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fluffychubbydragon · 8 months
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Here is your finished reward @cranberrytea451 for guessing the correct fruit! 🍒
Button teaching Auberon how to play string games. Auberon kept those threads by the way. 😃
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subsequentibis · 1 year
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yknow when you don't normally perform what is a fairly basic skill and then you try to do it and then you feel embarrassed about asking for help because you fear people will go 'you DON'T KNOW how to do BASIC SKILL???' like just in case every other person on earth actually does this on a regular basis and you're a freak for not knowing. anyway how do i estimate how much thread i need to use for sewing i feel like i'm wasting a lot here bc i just don't know
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tylerpitlicktruther · 4 months
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I am so obsessed with this photo I can’t get over it
Look how small Jeff looks, like…my little wittle itty bitty teeny tiny pooks…🤏🏻🥺💝
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meownotgood · 1 year
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he is literally pea sized. his hand is the size of a small molecule.
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dollwrites · 6 months
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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!nanny!reader, married!toji ( rich toji too lmao hot take ), age gap, noncon, dacryphilia, virginity loss, heavy breeding kink, bondage, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day twenty-two [ toji fushiguro + breeding ]
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you probably should’ve kept your mouth shut. you should’ve bit the bullet and swallowed your pride when Toji said he couldn’t pay you any earlier than Friday for babysitting the kids. no, couldn’t had not been his word of choice. he wouldn’t pay you before Friday. Toji was loaded with cash. you’d never bothered to ask him how he made his living, but you knew that he had plenty and his massive mansion would not be snatched up by the bank if the prick gave you your well earned three hundred and twenty dollars on a Wednesday instead of a Friday.
and you’d told him so.
which had landed you in the position you’re in now.
on a few occasions, Toji or his wife had asked you to tidy up around the house and that included their bedroom. the room was massive and luxurious, with a king size bed in the center of the room. you’d seen plenty of oddities in there— handcuffs here, a flogger there, vibrators in the drawers and even a black, pleather bench with seatbelt-like straps hanging off it in the corner— but you never thought, in all the time you’ve worked for them, that you’d find yourself on your back in nothing but your bra and panties ( which were both pulled askew to expose your breasts and give him access to your core ) against the mattress, with thick, black straps on your ankles that bind them to a long, silver bar. your legs are spread wide for Toji, he has also fastened similar cuffs to each of your wrists to separate notches on the pole. his fist is wrapped around the center of the metal, gripping it tight. he seems to use it as a lever, pulling your entire body to his.
the tears are far from dried on your cheeks, though the majority of the pain from the initial insertion has dissipated, Toji is none too gentle as he ruts into you. your walls flutter about the girth of his manhood as it stretches you to a capacity you’ve never felt before. he was so big, much too big for him to have been your first, and you felt like he was ripping you apart, especially because he had no regard for how deep he was delving into you— each thrust of his hips sent him hilt-deep into a newly devirginized interior. because of this, your face remained twisted into an expression of discomfort, eyes wide with shock.
Toji chuckles through grit teeth, “What’s with the crocodile tears, slut? Wasn’t expecting I’d pop your cherry? Daddy’s cock too big for that itty, bitty belly of yours?” his dark pair coruscate in the dim lighting as his gaze travels over your stomach, pressing his free palm against the lump just below your navel, the size and shape of his cock. you mewl, head rolling about on the mattress, and your teeth sink into your lower lip; the pressure adds to the sensation of being stuffed full. “Ooh, listen to you whine for me,” he croons with faux sympathy, poking out his lower lip. “I’ll bet you’re used to getting exactly what you want with those puppy dog eyes, aren’t you? But, I gotta tell you, baby girl, daddy’s made more girls cry than just you. You really think those little sniffles are gonna work on me? Make me go easier on you?”
his hips grind into yours as he digs as deep as possible without his thick tip bursting through your belly button ( or, at least, that’s what it feels like ), and you cry out, back arching. your fingernails claw at the restraints, arms tensed unable to do much but sting.
“Ah!” it’s more a bestial growl than a sound of pleasure you’d expect anyone to make, his eyes fiery with even more desire at your wriggling. “See, feel that? How your pussy tremors when she’s gripping my cock? You can glare up at me with those cute, puffy eyes and your makeup streaked down your cheeks, but I can tell by the way that little pussy hugs me that you don’t want it gentle. You don’t want me to be nice. You want to be fucked into submission, and daddy’s more than willing to break that bad fuckin’ habit of talking back to me with my cock.”
it was almost impossible to formulate a coherent sentence, batting tears back, but they fall anyways, squirming as if to escape the cocktail of pleasure and pain, and you turn away from him, angling your countenance towards the wall instead. “W—what— what if I t-told your, ah! Your wife about this—“
the most wicked of grins contorts Toji’s lips, and he reaches through the bar and between your arms to grip your face, turning it back to force you to look up at him. “You think she doesn’t know, girl? I’ve only been planning to breed your little body since you started working for us. I just needed a good excuse to break you in, thanks for that.” he pauses, to groan and close his eyes, pace picking up as his hips begin to buck more erratically. “She thinks you’ll make a better baby factory than she ever could, and she’s more than willing to let me keep you here and fuckin’ ruin you until the only thing you want is for me to swell that little tummy with my bastards—“ even as your whimpering escalated into screams, you can hear him. your eyes close, head wanting to angle away from his grip, his palm makes contact with your cheek in a couple, quick slaps. “You can get used to being my little breed-whore, sweet girl. And don’t you worry, you’re gonna get a nice raise every time I knock you up; as long as you learn that your place is wrapped around daddy’s cock, and that pussy is for him to fill with his loads, you’re gonna be a fine new addition to this family.”
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peachsayshi · 3 months
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ domestic diaries
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minors / ageless / blank blogs dni
ೃ⁀➷ notes: I saw this gif (top right image) & wrote a post about nanami getting turned on seeing his wife in an itty bitty tank, and I cannot get this out of my head. I need this man to **** ** until I'm ******* and ******. this is very self indulgent. forgive me lskjfd
ೃ⁀➷ tags: smut; masturbation; oral (f receiving); nipple play; p in v; rough sex; reader wears glasses
feb 3 - 8:31 pm
"look at how wet you are-" nanami exhales, a strand of gold kissing his forehead. the muscles of his strong stomach flexing when he unfastens the last button of his shirt. he pulls the fabric over his broad shoulders, taking in your hungry eyes roaming all over his body. rough hands instantly trail to the belt cinched around his waist. you whimper when he loosens the buckle, your fingers circle over your clit just a little faster as you watch him yank the leather band out from between the loops.
"n' you're hard..." you softly pant, licking your lips which only continues to exacerbate your husband’s madness to have you.
he palms over the prominent tent that's formed against his slacks, his length stiff from the sight of coming home to you earlier. you were innocently standing in the kitchen, wearing your black thigh high socks and a pair of shorts along with an itty bitty tank top that did nothing to cover you. midriff out, nipples prominent. your hair a mess, and your glasses resting comfortably on the bridge of your nose.
it was in that moment when the realization struck nanami. when he pondered when was the last time he taken you to bed. both of your schedules have been busy. neither of you have been in the mood for making love, too worn out from the stresses of every day life.
so, his reaction towards you shouldn't have been that much of a surprise. he just wished that he noted the dry spill that's hit your relationship a little bit earlier.
"hi, baby", you sweetly greeted with a smile, as he stood there dumfounded with admiration. "you're home late, I was worried you might miss dinner-"
nanami loosened his tie, swallowing the hard lump that formed in his throat as his skin scorched with heat. he can feel it prick the tips of his ears, singe the the highest parts of his prominent cheek bones, and burn it's way down his neck. he stalked towards you before you allowed yourself to get distracted, and circled his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss.
you were taken aback by the urgency, but you soon melted in his arms and found yourselves in the sanctuary of your bedroom.
nanami smiles - an angelic grin, full of reverie. you have to press your lips together to stop yourself from pathetically moaning at the gesture.
your husband doesn't make it easier by treating his exceptionally attractive self with such nonchalance. so completely clueless by the power he has over you.
he boldly stares at you, eyes falling to the peaks of your breasts, the tips furiously prominent against your tank top and begging for attention. he followed the path down the lower half your naked body, to the triangle between your legs where you were fingering yourself in anticipation. half your legs were still concealed by your thigh high socks, your glasses slowly falling down your nose.
he drops his shirt to the ground, bringing those fingers to push back that infuriating rogue strand of hair that carelessly fell. he cups your knees, his thumbs stroking your socks lovingly as he nestles himself between your legs. his jaw twitches when you spread your lips for him, your arousal strings of sweet sugar. nanami leans forward to peck you tenderly at the source of your desire, and the sound that travels out of your throat is so desperate he nearly cums on the spot.
"shit-" you curse, your hands moving to rest on your lower belly so nanami can touch you as he pleases.
he uses to fingers to spread the petals once again, before placing his tongue flat to broadly stroke up your slit. his eyes flutter close and the drawl of his hum is deep, sending a shiver up your belly. you bring one hand to the locks of his hair, massaging his scalp lightly as you keep the strands from falling over.
"haven't tasted you in a while, my love," nanami sighs. his hot, heavy breath fanning your cunt.
he dives in with no mercy, making your hips buck into his face while he fucks you with his mouth. he pays extra attention to your clit, sucking on the bud and flicking his tongue back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth...your fingers dig into his scalp, your upper body nearly off the mattress as you hold him close. when nanami slides two fingers in to stretch you out, your eyes simply vanish to the back of your head. you're so soaked by the time you orgasm, tremors shaking your clenched thighs that nearly squeezed your husband's head.
you taste yourself on your tongue when he kisses you. it's sloppy, wet. completely primal. nanami only stops to remove his slacks, rbefore eadjusting your position when he climbs on the bed.
"take your glasses off," he commands, and you oblige as you place them by your side.
he flips you over, lifting your hips and creating a lovely slope on your spine. his hands graze over the socks pinching the meat of your thighs, and he widens your stance before aligning the heavy tip of his cock to your entrance.
your words are reduced to vowels, and when your husband gradually pushes himself against your folds, you release a long cry as you grip onto the sheets for support.
"oh fuck,-" nanami purrs, before pulling back and rutting deep into you. "uh-you feel s'good, s'warm..."
"kento-" your whine out his name pornographically, which makes your husband thrust into you even harder, "kento, more...please, please, please-ah~"
your tank top rides up as your body rubs against the mattress, your sensitive nipples brushing over your cool bed sheets. he's usually so gentle when fucking you, calculative even - but not tonight. tonight, his movements are unrelenting. whenever that mushroom head hits your sweet spot it has you seeing a cluster of white stars in your eyes. the sound of skin slapping skin echoes all around you, with nanami's grunts following in harmony. he's rough when he holds your hips because he's unable to hold onto any self control, because you're sucking him in, and milking his cock.
you anticipate the soreness to come.
when you orgasm a second time, tears prick your eyes from relief - it's been so long since you've had your husband inside you that you forgot how pliable you become in the process. he's so close now too, his flow staggering as his hipsstutter, until he finally releases his full load inside you.
it takes you both a few minutes to gather yourself. you can feel your husband grow soft inside you. you turn around to face him when you finally detach. sitting upright on your knees as you circle your arms around your neck, and bring your face in front of his.
you moan into a kiss, his own hands cupping your breasts chastely, his thumbs swiping over your pebbled nipples.
he rubs his nose over yours, his lips finding your cheeks as he kisses you. "you okay, my love?" he asks, always the gentleman for checking in. "m'sorry if I was rough, I..." he sighs, stealing another kiss from your lips before whispering, "I didn't realize how long it's been..."
you sniffle, your body coming down from the rushed high. "m'okay, kento..." you dreamily reassure, your lips seeking his own for another kiss, "that felt so good..."
"yeah?" he smiles before nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth and tracing that dangerous mouth down the curve of your neck. "felt good for me too, baby..."
you're like sand between his fingers, slipping through the cracks of lust and love. nanami leaves a trail of kisses down your collar bone, moving further until his lips circle over the tip of your breast.
you hiss when he sucks on it, using his hand to cup the weight. the sensation of his thumb makes you pulse between your legs, and you gaze down to watch him slowly pull away to release the bud. his eyes stay fixated on your chest, a small string of saliva connecting from your nipple to his bottom lip. he uses his thumb to wipe it away, stroking the hardened peak.
"want to keep going?" he speaks in a hushed tone, lifting his head up and resting his chin against your chest to gauge your mood.
"yeah," you sigh, wanting nothing more to ride along this intimate dance until your bodies can no longer keep up. "yeah, let's keep going..."
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satorhime · 1 year
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trouble comes twice ࿐ gojo satoru x female reader. satoru falls ill with a case of baby fever after seeing his baby girl dressed up as him.
content . ᕀ gojo and reader are parents [ referred to as ‘dada’ & ‘mama’ ], brief mention of pregnancy, emotional!gojo, sweet fluff with slightly suggestive dialogue at the end. 
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“dada- dada, look at me!” 
your daughter screeches out, announcing her arrival with the bright and melodic babble of a mischievous child. she stands on her tippy toes, her fingers covering your own as she helps you twist the knob and open the door to satoru’s office. 
even now, he forgets that he’s a father, until he is reminded in the most wonderful way. sometimes, your five-year-old will beg to wake satoru up two hours before he has to go to work just so they can play with her dolls together, or she’ll step all over his toes as she squeezes in between him and the kitchen counter while the three of you cook dinner together or like right now, crashing towards him with all the subtlety of a carpet bomb of cursed energy— so eager to show off her costume that her feet accidentally stumble over your heels. 
dressed up as a miniature version of him. 
his lips curve into an instant grin, pressing the button on the screen of the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder to end his current call.  the sound of the higher up scolding him cutting off sharp and abrupt makes his grin widen. they can wait, but his baby girl cannot. twisting in his chair, he catches his daughter just as she collides against him with an audible oof. 
“did we interrupt an important call?” you greet him, a soft smile on your glossy lips as you walk around the large desk satoru is seated at. you pat a hand to his knee before leaning against the edge of his desk. “sorry, i tried to get her to wait.” 
“you kiddin’? nothing’s more important than my two best girls,” he says, tugging at the bottom edge of his blindfold to drag it down, his expression playful as he watches his daughter copy him. she hurriedly removes her own blindfold, a tiny scrap of cloth covering her summer blue eyes. 
“so who are you?” he teases her, twitching one milky brow at the bouncing toddler in front of him. “where’s princess? did a curse finally eat my snotty kid?”  
“i’m the strongest!” your daughter chirps excitedly, crisscrossing two baby fingers to mimic his domain summon. 
your bitty sprout is so precious with her tiny white curls, tied into two space buns and her black blindfold that she scratches at with the back of her fist. not to mention, the bottom half of her cherub face is covered by the high collar of the jacket she’s wearing, identical to gojo’s standard uniform and the result of you staying up all night at your sewing machine, shredding one of his spares into a costume for your daughter. 
looking at her like this, she really is a tinier, stickier version of gojo satoru. 
“the strongest, huh? look at that, you’re already my favorite child. megumi would never offer to take my place so i can retire early.” 
“satoru…” you start, shaking your head in half-hearted exasperation. “when she picks up your sass and uses it against you, i’ll be the first to say “i told you so.’” 
“worried you’ll be outnumbered, mama?” he shoots the words at you, flashing a smile that amusement drizzles from like sweet icing. 
you roll your eyes, and then he turns back to his daughter, reaching down to effortlessly gather her against his broad chest before he pulls gently at one of her fat cheeks, nuzzling her close. “how come you chose to dress up as me, jellybean? it’s not october.” 
“i’m going to a costume party for keigo and haru,” she explains excitedly, her little face brightening at the mention of suguru’s sons. “but mama couldn’t find scarlet witch costume.” 
“oh, ouch,” he whines dramatically, placing a hand over his heart and pretending to be wounded by her open honesty. “wound me some more.” 
“dada, you’re so dramatic,” she giggles at him, and though satoru’s genetics may have overpowered your own for the most part, the roll of her eyes is a trait she learned directly from you. 
“second place is a serious injury, little princess. i should go see if shoko’s awake to make sure i’m not dying-”
“i wanted to dress up as dada because he’s a hero, like avengers,” she cuts him off, so perceptive and honest. your daughter latches on to the collar of his jacket so she can pull his head closer and plant him a slobbery mwah! on his cheek, and if you see gojo’s eyes mist over, glassy ocean blue from tears, you don’t comment on it. 
“down, please,” she requests, grunting and wriggling until he sets her down on the floor with a wobbly chuckle. unaware that her father’s expression has glazed over, his mind spiraling from her words. 
gojo satoru doesn’t even shed tears at funerals, but right now? his eyes flicker to you desperately, and you soften like clouds, nodding silently. 
“sweet pea, the party starts at 3:30 so you have plenty of time to show megumi-nii your costume, why don’t you?” you suggest, giving your boyfriend a moment to discreetly wipe the wet away from his cheeks. sure, he’s seen his students grow into formidable sorcerers that he is infinitely proud of and sure, he may have gotten choked up once or twice while snapping memories of megumi’s important milestones— like his middle school graduation, and that one time he didn’t insult gojo loudly when he picked him up from class in front of his peers— but this…? this overwhelms him, the kind of love he feels right now.
this love… this love is so different, something he’s never experienced before. it’s unlike quick flings brought home from bars, trying to lift the weight off his shoulders for a couple of hours with a pretty face. it’s unlike the near religious idolization from his clan, smothering him with their expectations and obsessive admiration. it’s whole and pure— it’s his family, his true one. it’s you and your baby girl driving away his loneliness like sunlight chases down bad dreams. 
“okay, mama!” she agrees, nodding.
“but go directly to his room. remember where it is?” 
“i remember!” 
“i’ll be right behind you after i talk to your da. don’t annoy megumi-nii too much, ‘kay?” you turn around, opening the door to let your daughter out of satoru’s office and into the long corridor where you watch as she waddles in the direction to megumi’s room. when you can no longer see her, you step back into the office and shut the door before turning to look at your boyfriend. “she’s so excited to go to this party. it’s supposed to be superhero-themed and she wanted to dress up as wanda maximoff, but- are you still crying?” 
satoru barely remembers moving so quick, reaching out to hook one of his strong arms around your waist to pull you into his lap sideways.. he barely remembers cupping your cheeks into his big palms as if you’re his most precious thing, a goddess that carved out a piece of heaven for him to hold here on earth. your body is rounded and soft, a comfort to him when his emotions get the best of him. his eyes, pale blue like the northern glaciers, flicker over your face— to your expression that is more than concerned, and your lips that are parting to ask if he’s okay, and then, he’s kissing you—
you gasp, but your initial surprise melts into love, like a piece of chocolate held between your fingertips for too long, because you know what came over him now. you feel it too sometimes, when you see him bonding with your baby girl. it’s sweet, the way he spells words into those kisses— gratitude, affection, and something a little more primal that you can’t place. 
god, he knows you can feel his tears, saltine as they slip traitorously down his cheeks to pool in between the cracks of your joined lips.
when he pulls away a little, you wipe his wet cheeks with your thumbs, your heart tender from the aches until he ruins the moment by whispering four words against your lips that make your big doe eyes widen to full moons. 
“i want another one.” 
huh.
“are you crazy?” you whisper-shout, laying a fist against his chest to keep him from moving closer and indulging him in another kiss. before jellybean was born, having a child together had not been in either of your wishlists for the future, but two pale pink lines gleaming on your bathroom counter five years ago had changed everything and now, you couldn’t imagine life without her. 
but another one? 
“don’t tell me you’re getting baby fever just because she dressed up as you.” 
satoru doesn’t know what has come over him. he never wanted to have children of his own anyway. it was one of those stubborn pacts he made with himself when he was young and flippant. but seeing his baby girl dressed up as him— calling him a hero above all of his faults and failures— is making him want an entire litter with you, a dream team.
“she said i was a hero. i need to hear that from at least one more little me.” 
“we’re not having another baby just to feed your ego, satoru,” you shake your head. “i mean it so stop giving me that look!” 
“what look?”
“that look, the one that tells me you want to bend me over your desk right now,” you huff, “i have a party to go to.” 
“but she was so cute in her little costume, wasn’t she? we make cute kids, i told you that the first time you let me-” 
“i should have left you at dinner that night.” 
“but you didn’t,” he says, grinning toothily, his long, pale fingers sneaking under the hem of your shirt to tease at soft skin underneath. he’s got you already, and he knows it. “just like you ain’t gonna leave this office without another baby in you.”
꒰ LOLLYNOTE ꒱: waaaah, i hope you enjoyed this lil piece ! this was a bit selfshippy and totally self indulgent but i hope you love it anyways <3 thank you to @sleepygetou for letting me use her darling babie ocs keigo & haru too 🥹
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strawberrystepmom · 3 months
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gojo x f!reader. reader and gojo are married, reader is wearing heels and earrings. a little bitty love note for my valentine. wc 1.3k | divider thanks to cafekitsune 💓
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Tuesday nights have long been decreed to be designated date nights in the Gojo household.
Bearing in mind how busy the two of you tend to be, this standing appointment doesn’t always work out the way it was planned when you started the tradition and there have been several occasions where you and Satoru have had “dates” in the form of sharing meals from miles away via video chat but tonight, he is all yours. In the flesh, a day ahead of what is widely viewed as a romantic holiday, and wearing your favorite dress shirt with a smirk across his face.
“So, I’ve been thinkin’.” He announces from across your walk-in closet, fastening the buttons on either side of his wrists and walking in your direction. Raising your eyebrows while you fasten in your favorite pair of earrings, you hum at him, concealing a smile to the best of your ability.
“That can be a dangerous thing.”
Your husband chuckles and joins your side, leaning down to press his face against yours. He steals a glance at your reflections in the small mirror atop your standing jewelry box and puckers his lips, turning his head enough that he can kiss you before suggesting what is on his mind.
“Remember how we used to pretend to get engaged to get free dessert?”
Snorting, you nod, attempting to secure the back of your earring onto the post keeping it in your lobe. Satoru grabs the small piece of metal from you and takes over, leaning down as close as he can to you to get the job done.
“I recall.”
Of course you remember all of the times he pulled a fake ring out of his pocket for attention, applause, and a celebratory slice of cake he didn’t have to purchase despite absolutely being able to afford it. The first time you were mortified, hot cheeked and taken aback by the possibility he may have actually been proposing to you, but each time it became easier to react the way that would make people happiest for you. Keeping the absolute lack of romance in his actual proposal in mind, you’ve always held these fake ones close to your heart.
It feels like he spent years proposing to you culminating in the real thing - how romantic is that? Both of you insist that you aren’t romantics yet the way you love each other speaks for itself.
“Let’s do it again.”
“Oh you’re dastardly,” you tease with a half smile, your palms smoothing out any wrinkles in his dress shirt while fiddling with the buttons keeping it closed. “You really want to?”
“Duh, it’ll be fun.”
Despite yourself, you laugh at your husband’s antics and remove your palms from his chest to slip your ring off. Your lower lip dips out in a pout with each inch the golden band moves and Satoru’s heart squeezes in his chest watching it. Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested such a silly stunt, no matter the laughs that would be shared over it later.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
Nodding, you grab his hand and face his palm upward, depositing your band in the smooth center of it, followed by the engagement ring you wear stacked with it. Your left finger is bare for the first time in years and you wiggle it with a giggle, shoving it upward in the direction of his face.
“For old times sake.”
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It’s a very good thing the two of you picked a restaurant that deviates from your usual plans otherwise this entire little plot would fail spectacularly. Tadashi, the chef at your favorite place close to your home, would have spotted the two of you in a second and given you a wry smile and tutted at your dishonesty.
“Are you sure this is gonna work? We seem pretty, I dunno…married?” You question everything happening right now, unexpectedly feeling a little insecure about lying. The click of your heels on the sidewalk perfectly mingles with Satoru’s footsteps that he intentionally shortens when the two of you are together. There are so many subtleties that will give you away including the mere fact you are obsessively in love with each other and fail to hide it.
Your husband simply chuckles and shakes his head.
“Hopefully they’re giving out the good desserts tonight,” your husband mutters while weaving his fingers in between yours and swinging your joined hands between your bodies. He’s so effortlessly boyish sometimes you want to be annoyed but find it difficult to be when the stars are twinkling just right and the cool air nipping at his cheeks makes them a rosy pink.
If you loved him less, you’d be more frustrated. Adoration is a balm that soothes most of your frustration with him at any given time so you’re happily preparing to go along with all of this, smiling at the hostess standing at the front of the restaurant when you enter.
“Two for Gojo,” he proudly states to the woman who whisks the two of you off toward your reserved table. You smile at her the entire time but you notice her smile dim after she catches sight of your joined hands. With a nod, she moves so you can slide into your chair and he does the same and you hum to yourself.
“That was weird, right?”
Satoru just shrugs and you roll your eyes, picking up the menu and scanning over it once. Your waiter arrives with a polite half bow and immediately, your husband’s face lights up. It’s too late to tell him to stop whatever he’s planning now, his right hand dipping under the table to fish around in his pocket for your engagement ring.
“Are we celebrating anything tonight?”
The server’s words immediately make you panic and your eyes widen when Satoru pushes his chair out and stands, presenting a very familiar ring in his palm. Taking a deep breath, you gasp and do your best to feign shock and surprise, noticing the same horrified look on the server’s face when he glances at Gojo’s hands.
“Yes, we are. We are getting married!”
Glancing at his left hand, you immediately notice what the shock is about. Rather than fuss at him you rush to cover your mouth with your right hand and nod rapidly as though you are totally taken aback. Holding your left hand out, he slips your ring back onto its home finger. He beams at you with every movement, practically bursting with joy, and seats him back at the table across from you.
“You forgot to take your ring off,” you whisper-hiss out of the side of your mouth and your husband looks down at his left hand that grips the edge of the dinner table. Sure as anything, the golden band you slipped on the digit years ago glistens under the low restaurant lighting and you fight the urge to giggle and blow the entire operation wide open. The clearly uncomfortable server bows his head at each of you, filling your empty water glasses for the sake of having something to do, before scurrying away with his head pointed firmly toward the ground.
“He probably thinks I’m your mistress now.”
Satoru shrugs in response, tilting his head to the side.
“You are my wife, my mistress, and the love of my life, what can I say? The plan worked perfectly if he believed it.”
Rolling your eyes, you reach across the table and run your thumb over his fingers and the gold band adorning his ring finger.
“You’re such a romantic.”
He smirks and wraps your hand in his.
“But I’m your romantic.”
The two of you are so lost in your own little world you don’t realize the server and hostess off to the side discussing the married man proposing to another woman, gesturing wildly at each other. Fake proposal aside, you are excited to have an evening to enjoy with the man who shakes your world up at every opportunity and he glances at the menu for a scant moment before turning to look up at you, blue eyes narrowed.
“Do you think they’ll still give us dessert?”
Laughing, you shrug and squeeze his hand.
“I think we should probably plan on just buying one this time.”
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cranberrytea451 · 10 months
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@bumpycap
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Uh I have a bandaid for you… my error bitty Button is just sewing me up.
Adoption is easy, not much paper work and it’s free!
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I have a bandaid somewhere-
Oh.
Well I’ll be darned. This killer bitty really likes you.
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Edit: previous post https://www.tumblr.com/cranberrytea451/720979842035777536/bumpycap-i-run-a-little-bitty-rescue-we
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fluffychubbydragon · 8 months
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WIP
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It looks weird because it isn't done and I am tired, so imma stop here before my brain does something stupid again with my drawing files.
This is for @cranberrytea451. Bet you can guess what this is just based on this sketch.
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rainbowcolored7 · 2 years
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omg I forgot how much it fucking sucks wearing a wired bra. My ribs fucking huuurrtttttt.... I've been wearing bralettes for like 3 years but they're falling apart and my binder is ripped and my sports bra is ripped and omg I really need to fucking go shopping jfc
In better more fun news! That Royalty KP au I abandoned all hope of writing has come back to me as Royal Fantasy* now and oh boy oh boy it's definitely happening now. Please do not make me look at the greaser era au it's giving me grief.
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onsunnyside · 1 year
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🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠
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𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.
𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑
𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K
𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands. 
You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact. 
Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks. 
He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you. 
If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying. 
"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle. 
It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage. 
Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him. 
To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.
You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed. 
The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door. 
"Did you do it?"
"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes. 
Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”
“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.” 
“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool. 
"Wait! What are you doing!" 
Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."
You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”
"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”
That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.  
You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears. 
He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?" 
As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink. 
It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.
"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?” 
"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm. 
"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch. 
After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.
"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink. 
Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts. 
“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?” 
You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.
“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes. 
“Oh… It got dirty.” 
He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.” 
You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.
He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”
Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete. 
You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon. 
His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see.  A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be. 
“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”
“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”
Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city. 
It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.
He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note. 
He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his. 
“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”
He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”
“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”
“And?”
“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.” 
Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead. 
He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery. 
“You liked the attention.” 
You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.” 
You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books. 
“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”
Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money. 
“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”
“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”
You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.
Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with. 
“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.” 
He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago. 
Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so. 
“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”
Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise. 
“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you. 
Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle. 
Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window. 
“You’ll be my boss?”
Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.
He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”
Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’  bikes ‘n engines.”
Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business. 
“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”
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𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
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wondeurwall · 2 months
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Idk if u've seen rafayel's new oracle story BUT IT HAS BEEN PLAGUING MY MIND
"What if i make it up to you like this yeah?"
MAKE UP SEX WITH RAFAYEL.
TELL ME DO YOU THINK THEY'LL HAVE IT OFTEN?? But ones in a more playful sort of way not really full on arguments if you get what i mean 😩💗💗
oh my god please, nonnie, rafayel's oracle story is literally the only thing on my mind. i've been so unwell
i went in with one dream and spent everything i had because my luck is abysmal. and, the worst part?? I CAN'T EVEN BE UPSET ABOUT IT 😭🫵🏻 it wasn't what i expected. it's kind of funny ASKDDJKD!! i thought it'd be myth related. instead, i was blessed with rafayel.... kisses... 🥰
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itty bitty nsfw 🔞 mdni.
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rafayel would 100% down for playful makeup sex 😵‍💫💕 honestly, he'd pull any kind of excuse just to get you undressed and fucked out in bliss. he loves how pretty you look when you cum 💕 even more when he and you can get a good laugh in between because he'd appreciate lightheartedness in intimacy. after all, he wouldn't have sex with anyone else! he needs trust to do those sweet, silly things too, and he can only ever do that with you.
because i think he'd find a lot of fun with it, he'd do it often, but the sex doesn't necessarily need to be absolutely mind-blowing once initiated. banter is fun, even better when it leads to sex, but he just loves being close like that: naked and a tangled mess of limbs with the warmth coming from your body to his.
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he's a night owl, so he's unintentionally ignoring your texts. maybe, even misses a few phone calls or immediately ends an incoming one, thinking it's an alarm he set up before. part of the day goes by and you're coming into his home to make sure he's doing alright. there's no use in pretending that you aren't upset. because you are upset! you didn't hear from him 💔 but, you find that he's just now out of bed after finishing a new piece of art.
"were you asleep this whole time?" you ask.
he rambles on about a sudden inspiration he had and that, "it'd be wrong to rest when the idea was too good."
you listen, nod, but truthfully some of his words go in and out the other ear. you frown at him. and, when he asks why you have that look on your face, you're quick to say, "i'm sure you can figure out why."
he knows. of course, he knows. he reads you well, just like you do him. then, his shoulders are a little hunched over, and he's laughing!
"i've really spoiled you," he says softly. his hands are on your hips the next second, pulling you close. "mm, why not let me make it up to you? i'm awake now, and we have the rest of the day to ourselves."
he lifts you and lays you on the couch. kisses you while he thinks about how many times he can get you gushing on his fingers and tongue before his cock.
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OR, if you're the one making it up to him 🥹
accidentally spilling paint on a good shirt of his? you're panicking as soon as it happens. your hands move faster than your mouth, and you're halfway with unbuttoning his shirt before telling him he needs to take it off.
his laughter is what stops you. it dawns on you! but, to be fair, your thoughts don't have anything else besides: the shirt must be washed before it really stains.
"someone's being bold," he chuckles as your eyes meet. "did you plan this?"
"what?" and, the fabric drops from between your fingers. rafayel doesn't miss the way your gaze falls briefly, catching the sight of his bare chest, last 2 or 3 buttons barely laying over his abdomen. "me, ruining a piece of clothing that's probably over three times my budget? i don't think that's planning. it's called being clumsy."
your face feels warm. you take a deep breath, reach out to him, "c'mon. i'll wash it. take it off before the paint makes it unsalvageable."
rafayel clasps your wrist with his hand, steps into your space, voice deepening with a tinge of playfulness, "no, i can think of a better idea. how about me and you have matching clothes?"
he embraces you, gets you wearing blotches of paint too, and you want to argue. but, you can't find the energy to when one hand is guiding your head back and the other is tugging on your neckline. rafayel's lips move to your throat first. then, trails open-mouthed kisses along the rest of your neck, jaw, the base of your shoulder, before whispering, "it's a good idea, yeah?"
since you're the one to make a mess of his shirt first, he wants you riding him as compensation. to make him feel good? yes, sure, he loves that. though, the reason for it, most of all: he wants you using his cock like you own it. wants you aching and desperate for him. cum all over him, feel good because of him. nothing gets him going more than watching you bounce on top and moan his name so sweetly 🥰
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© 2024 wondeurwall ☆ all rights reserved. please don't repost as your own, modify or translate on here or on other platforms. reblogs & likes are appreciated! ♡
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reallyromealone · 9 months
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BABYHAUL 3
Fluff, male reader, baby reader, reader is adopted by Yamada and Aizawa, domestic, cute
🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐Yamada was exhausted as he held little (name) in his arms, making coffee while Aizawa made breakfast for them all. It was back to school already and nobody was nearly awake for this, little (name) staring dazed and confused before being seated in his high chair.
"We have... Apple and carrot" Shouts mumbled as everyone began eating, (name) smacking his hands on the plastic table for food "yeah yeah, open wide" the exhausted hero said and (name) opened up when the little spoon got close to his mouth and looked very happy when tasting his food before looking at Shotas food curiously when he ate some of his own breakfast "ABABABA!" He tried reaching for some of it but sadly his chubby baby arm couldn't reach "here, a little bit" Shouta handed (name) a small bit that was cooled off on chopsticks and (name) looked very excited as he shoved it in his mouth.
Getting dressed and preparing (name)s baby bag the family headed off to school, Yamada grinning at the fact he managed to get the itty bitty babe in a onesie that looked like the uniform, Shouta having to explain that an actual mini uniform probably won't go well with the choking hazards via buttons and tie that the babe would most definitely try to eat.
Aizawa took (name) first as he collected his belongings, his new son looking at the students happily as they passed. Aizawa had Shinso hold his stuff as (name) kept insisting on trying to play with it.
Shinso found his new brother fascinating, the babe most definitely had a quirk that could fundamentally do anything! He could be anything!
And currently the little one was "helping" their dad prepare for class.
The students started filing in, at first not noticing the tiny addition strapped to their teachers chest, Aizawa currently writing things on the smart board "President, you can give attendance" Aizawa said passively as he turned to grab the work to be passed out off the podium and the class froze at the infant who was staring back curiously before looking around.
"Sir?" It was kaminari who spoke up with a raised hand and Aizawa grunted as a response to the blond "what's with the baby?"
Aizawa knew they wouldn't focus until he addressed the tiny elephant in the room so with a sign he scanned the class "this is my son, the U.A daycare is under maintenance so he's here" Aizawa said simply and Izuku seemed fixated on the small babe.
He looked... Familiar.
"How old is he?" Mina asked curiously and the teacher sighed "he's under a year old"
(Name) stretched his little arms and the class cooed "now" Aizawa got to business and popped a pacifier in little (name)s mouth before getting on with class.
(Name) mimicked Aizawas hand movements much to the classes amusement as Aizawa let him hold onto his finger.
"Is that him?" Nemuri asked with a soft excitement as she stepped towards the duo, Aizawa going to the staff room to get the heroics notes. "This is (name)" Aizawa said simply and Nem squealed softly but stopped when (name) looked a little startled at the sound "he's so little... Look at his little socks" she said and Aizawa took him out of his carrier a d let the other hold him, (name) immediately trying to grab her glasses to no avail "he does that with Hisashi" Aizawa said as his son began fussing.
"I think someone needs a nap" Nem said softly and Aizawa took him back and put him in the Carrier though this time facing Aizawa and began soothing the boy.
Hizashi smiled as he held his new youngest son, little (name) waking from his nap mid class and looked at the Gen-Ed students half awake, looking like he just woke from a damn good nap and clothes slightly disheveled.
"Good morning sunshine" (name) let his dad clean the drool from his cheek before popping a pacifier in his mouth "oh-- we finished early... Well I suppose you all can talk amongst yourselves" Hizashi said but his students just looked fixated on the baby who gave them some half awake side eye "sir? Is that your son?" One student asked and Hizashi grinned "yes he his! This is my youngest son (name)!" He waved (name)s sleepy arm and the boy just let him do what he wanted "how old is he?" Another asked and the blond adjusted (name) before speaking "a few months, he's a wiggly little guy" (name) gave a prime example as he whined to be put down and his dad complied, gently setting the boy down and (name) began army crawling around his little blanket set out "he's not good at the whole moving thing yet"
(Name) wiggled on the floor till his arm got caught under him and the class stiffened as his little lip wobbled and then a cry broke out as Hizashi lifted the itty bitty into his arms and tried to soothe the babe who was absolutely loosing it to no avail till his son came up "can I try?" hizashi let Hitoshi hold the itty bitty as the bell rang, the blond letting the students leave.
When it was just the trio, Hitoshi held (name) close and pat his little back gently and... Started reciting words meanings from the dictionary?
It seemed to work as (name) calmed down "how" Hizashi asked his son who shrugged "works on Eri"
The two laughed as (name) looked around confused "it's lunch time baby, they went bye bye"
"Why does he have tear marks?" Shouta asked as he took the babe "lil guy crawled on his own arm and lost his mind" Hizashi said teasingly and Shouta nodded "bound to cry eventually"
"The machine beeped!" Midnight said as her and powerloader made tea and Shouta wandered to the bottle warmer and (name) began bouncing at the machine he quickly learned holds his food "yeah yeah, keep your diaper on"
(Name) made content sounds as he ate, the teachers talking about classes and students and upcoming events "I still can't believe you two are going to be the hosts for the sports festival" Snipe snorted and Aizawa shrugged "it's only logical"
When (name) finished his bottle, Aizawa burped him and let him look around in his arms, everyone waving at him and to the adults surprise he clumsily waved back "I am pretty sure that was his first wave" Hizashi said excitedly and the teachers cooed and thankfully Vlad had video of it all and sent it to the blond.
"So is he eating solids?" Powerloader asked and Shouta nodded "he's a monster with custard" at the mention (name) looked at him curiously and the man chuckled "papa!" Little Eris voice rang as she ran in excitedly "Hi baby! Nedzu let you out early?" With the help of nedzu and a Quirk specialist Eri had been learning to control her quirk in a safe environment "yeah! He said since I got a new baby brother that I could have extra lunch with him!"
Eri smiled as Shouta crouched so she could see the little babe whom she vowed to protect in her little heart and though he shared features with her abuser she was very aware that they were not one in the same and during her captivity she often grew curious about the little baby.
A few weeks passed, the dorms fully finished and the family moved though Shinsou was in the student dorms though his training he would hopefully be joining the Hero course.
It was the weekend and the Yamazawa family were hanging out at the in school park for teachers who were parents, little (name) having the time of his life on the baby swing as he was gently pushed by Hizashi as Shouta pushed Eri on a big kid swing "higher!" She squealed as Shouta pushed her only a smudge higher "could the Yamada/Aizawa please report the Principal Nedzus office"
Hitoshi met with his family in casual clothes, it being the weekend and not needing a uniform at this moment as they knocked on it "enter please!" Nedzu said as they walked in, eyebrows raising at the man sitting in formal attire "what's going on?"
"Well due to the... Departure of Overhaul, he's been declared deceased due to the video spread of you know what" Nedzu spoke carefully as there were two tiny sets of ears through one was far more interested in his dad's capture weapon.
"So what?"
"So now we must read the things that's been left behind for our dear (name)!"
A will reading?
"Yes! It seems our dear (name) has been left quite a fair amount!"
The family sat as the lawyer began reading, the babe left estates and and priceless things in vaults quite literally anything and everything"and finally (name) Chisaki is left a total sum of 65,154,375,000 Yen (450m), here are the codes for the safes along with deeds to the estate's"
The Yamazawa family was... Shocked to say the least.
"Holy shi--""language" Shouta said though he wasn't much better, the tiny baby in his arms in little shorts and a blue striped shirts and matching shoes was absolutely loaded, the lawyer leaving them.
"My my, isn't this interesting" Nedzu said with a content smile and watched the family look shocked save for the littles who didn't have a clue on what was happening though (name) was very curious about the cookies and treats on Nedzus desk "I-I don't know... What?" Yamada was speechless as he processed the fact his baby was a multi millionaire "could we possibly have the homes and material items left behind be appraised and checked? To make sure they aren't stolen" Hitoshi brought up and the other adults genuinely considered it "since you two are his legal adults, we could do that" Nedzu said handing the teen a cookie for his excellent point "that would be good seeing as he was a criminal" Shouta agreed with his sons point.
"I will make arrangements"
So much stolen items.
So so much stolen items.
All the estate's, vaults and everything checked and the amount of stolen items was astounding and they barely dented it.
Generations of stolen goods from the crime family.
And all while this happened, (name) was excited that he got new blocks as Yamada worked with a lawyer to draft trust funds and such so the money would be accessible to (name) when he was 18.
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