AHHHHHH

💔💔💔 AHHHHHH

degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)

context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. pls do lmk if i missed any tws. and as always, its not proofread :p gojo ver.

ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.

‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.

‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.

correction, you shatter.

somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.

and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.

‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’

quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.

‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.

when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.

‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’

‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.

god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.

‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.

‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.

geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.

‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.

‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.

‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.

‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.

‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.

‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round baby. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.

‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.

since when did he-?

out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-

‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.

‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.

what the fuck am i doing, he thought.

slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.

‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.

‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.

‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.

his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.

he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.

nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.

‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.

‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.

the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.

he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.

‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.

a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.

slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.

‘sweetheart…? why are you…’

you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.

‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’

his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’

speechless

Thanks for the request.

wow smash smash smash smash

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘

—cw: poly realtionship, fem!reader, cawksucking and pussyeating, a very very...hot position.

—a/n: eat up bitches. more to come soon

Bisexual satoru has a very strong oral fixation. You'll always find him with a lollipop in his mouth because he just needs something to suck. It's too much sugar though, and he should quit if he wants to live past 50 so he had a better idea. He started sucking suguru's cock and your pussy instead. It's a little strange considering a cock is much bigger than a lollipop and pussy even wetter, but he is quick to get used to it.

He looks so cute bobbing his head, slurping the pre-cum. Suguru's body twitches when Toru starts lolling his tongue around on his meat like an ice cream. You are so wet. Your hands are just about to reach between your legs before satoru slaps it away. Geto yanks you on top of his lap.

“go ahead, satoru. Seems like our pretty wants to help you too?” geto smirks.

Gojo is so quick in removing your flimsy panties aside. He licks his lip, eyes soaking in your wetness. fuck. You his when you feel his tongue against your pussy, all warms and gummy. He plays with geto's balls as he is licking you up. Suguru shoved a finger up your hole, penetrating your insides. Your toes curl and the sensation.

“suguu…her pussy sweet. ya sure I won't get diabetes from her?” he laps you like a dog. “sweet *kiss* fucking *kiss* pussy *kiss*. you're all ours, baby.”

“go on. cum on his face, doll.” a few more strokes of his tongue, and you are sent over the edge, arm snaking behind geto's neck, the other fisting gojo's white locks, pushing him further against your core as you release all of yourself in his mouth.

suguru removes his finger from your hole, all wet with your cum. “open,” he orders satoru. You look down to find satoru with his mouth open and geto shoves the fingers in. toru sucks his fingers clean. He retracts his finger to your pussy, collecting any remnants of your orgasm and scoops this with his two digits. He pops them in his mouth, gazing at both of you as he sucks them.

“good job. now,” he lifts you off him and places you on the bed. Getting off it, he then plops satoru next to you. “time to fix my problem now.” he says as he pumps his cock.

“on your knees with mouth wide open.” you both obey what he says.

satoru tends to get competitive subconsciously. But suguru tames him just fine. He knows how much of a desperate slut he is, so to agonize him more, he starts of my pushing his cock inside your mouth first, totally ignoring the man next to you. Gojo waits. Fifteen seconds. Thirty seconds. A minute. Five minutes. And snap.

He is clawing geto's waist, but all he spares him is a head pat before satoru starts pouting and jerking himself off. Frustration masking his face oh so clearly, it is visible even from your peripheral vision. Sighs of agony escaping his lips instead of moans as he pumps his cock. You reach a helping hand out before geto hums and warn you to not do it.

“how do you feel, pretty boy?”

“fuck you.” he spats, ignoring his boyfriend. “you too, y/n” (damn y/n catching strays)

“yeah? mhmm, baby just like that. such a good girl. satoru,” he purrs. “stand up and come over here?” he intends to ignore him at first, only giving in because he needs it so bad. Satoru is confused, what will geto do but taking his dick in his mouth as you suck him off was not what he expected. He is standing strong, hips jerking forward and both hands twisting geto's hair. The view is so good from up there as he watches his two lovers getting face-fucked. It turns him on to the point he is seconds away from cumming.

“fuckfuckfuck ahhh fuck.”

suguru forced you to catch up to his pace as you rub your clit. The rooms fill with the sounds of united moans, and curses, and you all climax at the same time, satoru pulling out to cum on suguru's pretty face, but you swallow geto's. the bed thumped as three bodies crashed down on it.

“holy fuck. that was so good,” gojo breathes.

“mhm I bet it was. came so hard.” they both gaze at your pretty face while your eyes were closed, catching a breath. Gojo gives geto a look, and now he is hard again. You open your eyes to your boyfriends sitting up and pumping their cock while looking at you like you're their last meal. Fuck. How can you forget they have a stamina of a beast? You gulp because you know what's about to come. You're not walking straight tomorrow.

AWWWWW

3AM sukuna underestimated just how much sleep he'd lose after having a kid (dad!sukuna x fem!reader)

the soft pitter patter of your baby's feet was enough to alert his senses. he didn't move—didn't even open his eyes—but his ears were tuned to the sound of your daughter's heavy breathing and the occasional babble.

he could hear her fiddle with the drawer handles, a soft rumble causing her to hum as she pulled the drawer out. a thud meant she bumped into it as she drew closer, messing around with the paper and cords inside.

he peeked one eye open. you were fast asleep beside him, and he was inclined to keep it that way. he didn't like to see his woman exhausted and seconds away from falling flat on her face because his little girl was, apparently, nocturnal.

"mama." she huffed as she finally turned her attention to the bed, fussing as she attempted to climb up.

he sighed. that was his cue.

he groaned as he rolled over, peering over your resting body at his daughter. she paused for a second, staring up at him with those shiny eyes that reminded him so much of you.

he raised an eyebrow.

she ignored his judgement and bounced in place, stretching her arms out to be picked up. "mama."

"mama's sleeping." he grumbled.

oh. oh, no. she didn't like that. she pouted, eyebrows furrowing in what seemed to be anger. her fingers curled into tiny fists and sukuna's lips twitched upwards in amusement. how adorable.

"mama." she said more adamantly.

he glared right back. "if you're coming back up here, you're gonna go to sleep."

whether she understood or not, she kept fussing to be picked up. he rolled his eyes and scooped her into his arms, rolling onto his back. baby was on his chest, leaning up so that she was sitting upright.

sukuna held onto her back, in case she toppled over and fell over like the bobblehead she was. "lie down."

"no." she chirped, looking out the window at the moon against the midnight blue.

"sleep."

"no."

he scrunched up his face. his life was much easier before she learned that word.

growing bored of the night sky, your baby rolled off sukuna's chest, scooting her way through the mess of sheets over to you. she glanced back at him as if to see if he was watching.

he gave her a look, observing her carefully. "don't you wake her up," he warned, propping his head up by his elbow.

her round eyes showed no trace of acknowledgment before she turned back to face you. there was a pause before her hand lifted in the air.

"okay." he sighed, catching the tiny hand in his before she slapped you awake. "come on."

she whined, writhing in his grip as he pulled her off the bed by the leg, dangling her in front of his face. "you really are little menace, aren't you?" he scoffed, flipping her over and holding her just like you taught him to.

she just babbled as her finger pulled at her mouth, the other hand resting on his shoulder.

he dragged his feet out the bedroom, into the kitchen. "what is it that you want, hm?" he rifled through the cupboards and pantry tiredly. "want a cookie?"

she squealed happily and pat his shoulder, a good enough answer for him to pull the package out. he dropped onto the couch, handing her one.

she nibbled on it, the chocolate staining her hands and mouth. he watched her fondly. to think he'd have a child of his own still confused him to this day. for all his wrongs, he must have done something right.

"wan' one?" she slurred, holding up the half-spit cookie to him.

"...no." he said plainly, though he did pick up a new cookie and took a bite out of it. might as well, he thought.

his eyes drooped until he felt his cookie being snatched out of his hand, replaced by the spitty cookie with most of its icing dug off.

"daddy take that one." she giggled, feasting upon her new cookie.

sukuna... what could he do? he ate that thing.

when you woke up the morning after, you just shook your head at the sight—your daughter resting on your husband's chest, cookie crumbs and chocolate smears all over the both of them. fast asleep. sugar coma.

you saved that picture for later <3

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

it's giving choso

Being obsessed with sucking your boyfriend’s fat cock. Always tugging down his pants with an innocent smile as he whines softly, either having to go to school, work, or just out with friends.

You don’t give him a chance to protest as you take him down your throat. His mouth falling open in a choked moan of surprise when your lips clamp down. Sucking at his tip harshly before trailing your hot tongue along his veins, not stopping till his length was nestled fully in your mouth.

Your arms wrap around his waist tight, keeping him in place as he mewled in between short whimpers. Cock throbbing when your eyes meet his, batting your lashes sweetly before using a hand to squeeze at his heavy balls.

His noises turn short and silent, eyes rolling back with tensed abs as his hands rested on your shoulders. Letting out a shaky breath when you pull him closer, your skilled mouth making work of his massive cock.

It’s not long till he’s cumming with a loud moan, body jerking as a short string of ‘baby’s falls past his lips. His cum spilling down your throat with a groan.

You smile, swallowing down his cum before kissing lightly at his tip. Noticing that he was not done yet with a giggle. Your smaller hand wraps around his cock, pumping your fist until he’s spurting thick ropes onto your lips and face. Inevitably being made late to wherever he had to go.

he's so emotional and cute

dad!choso is on my mind. he’d be the sweetest husband/father to-be. i just know he’d hold our hand the entire time and say things like “i wish i could take this pain away from you.”

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 .ᐟ

keeping up with the choso family

starring. choso x fem! reader

heads up. pregnancy, giving birth, you're in you're 20s during shibuya (around nanami's age), all information are from research.

note. NONNIE, FIRST OF ALL YES. I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS??? i just know he'd cry during every one of these moments, i'm gonna sob, i miss him so much.

the first time choso met you, he didn't know you'd be his life companion. pushing aside at the fact that you both were enemies at first, being a jujutsu sorcerer assigned to shibuya wasn't really the best circumstances for first meetings — which practically didn't happen smoothly.

long story short, he actually hurts you with his blood manipulation. not enough to kill you, but enough to consider it a 'medical emergency'. he is really sorry about it though; when he saw you protect yuuji despite your injuries, he just knew he had to have you.

choso made it clear that he regretted hurting you — especially when his technique left a scar on your skin. specifically on your shoulder, and your lower abdomen. occasionally pressing his lips onto your scars, the vivid drawings of your stitches still embedded into your skin.

"'m sorry . . ." choso whispers out into your skin, burying his face into your stomach as you both lay down on the bed. once again, he was feeling apologetic for hurting you more than a year ago. every day after shibuya, he was busy apologizing to you for hurting you.

"cho, that was what . . ? more than a year ago? you need to stop apologizing, baby," raking your fingers through his hair, he sighs out in content, leaning his cheek onto your stomach — his arms draped around your thighs.

when he asks you to marry him, he subconsciously did it because he panicked. choso had it all planned for a whole month, and managed to ruin it in three minutes on the day he was going to propose to you because you were just so captivating, he just lost all senses of everything he practiced.

"please, marry me," choso blurts out, his mind going one hundred miles per second — he wasn't even sure if he was conscious at that point, "i love you so much and i can't think of my life without you, please marry me," he whispers, squeezing your hand gently.

choso actually got help from everyone on what to say and what to do, which all went down to drain when he decided to use his heart to propose to you. and it worked out well anyways, "seriously? i'm gonna cry," you fanned your eyes.

believe me when i said that choso was on the edge of his seat, waiting for your answer. when you exclaimed out a happy and tearful, "yes!", he could finally breathe out in relief, raising your hand up to his lips in happiness, slipping the ring he even forgot for a second.

choso actually told himself that he wouldn't cry during his own wedding. months before the reception — he finds himself watching wedding videos and happily kicking his feet at the sight of the groom crying, he believed he wouldn't, because he's seen you everyday. right? right?

wrong. the moment the tall doors opened and there you started walking down the aisle slowly, choso felt overwhelmed at the fact that he was getting married to you, and you were getting married to him. he swore if it wasn't for yuuji, he would be laying down in front of the whole guest list, crying on the ground.

he stood there, instinctively wiping his tears — that were never-ending, and god, you looked so beautiful that all he could see was you. choso felt like it was just you and him at that moment, no guest, no yuuji, just you.

after the ceremony, choso just wanted to go back home and if it weren't for you telling him to wait until everyone goes home, he'd technically kidnap his own wife and bring her back to their home. with a pout and a long face, he greets the guest with you, hand in yours like a little child who didn't get what they want.

"can we go back home now? my legs are killing me," he whispers, squeezing your hand, tugging you towards him, "jus' leave them, they're eating the night away . . ."

"let's wait until everyone goes home, okay?" you tell him. almost wanting to laugh at the sight of his fake offended gasp right after, choso didn't complain anyways — nodding his head as you tugged him towards a group of people to greet them.

when you both got home after a long day, choso immediately headed for the bedroom, tossing himself onto the bed, white shirt wrinkled and his tie messily pulled towards one side. eyelids half closed.

"cho, you know you have to shower before you sleep. you stink."

"mmm . . . wanna sleep," he moans out into the pillow, reaching his hand out to you in an attempt to bring you onto the bed, which did not work since you were too busy wiping off your makeup, "can't we just shower tomorrow? 'm so tired."

choso's never really thought about having kids. he didn't know how to take care of kids, nor how to react with kids. for some reason, the universe though — seemed to have bless him with a wave of "baby fever" one and a half year into the marriage. watching videos of random babies from all over the world doing baby things, and he felt his heart flutter at the sight.

that was when he knew, he wanted a family with you. technically, the two of you were already a family the moment you both got married — but he wanted an addition to your small family. a child.

he didn't really know how to break the fact that he wanted a baby with you, and so he tried subtle ways to do so. showing you baby videos, telling you how cute your kids would be, even pointing at baby shoes or onesies when you both go out.

by that point, you'd caught on to his little scheme, "why're you talking about kids a lot? baby shoes, baby onesies, baby videos, baby this, baby that," you informed him, threading your fingers through his hair as he laid his head on your lap.

"wan' a baby."

so when you broke the news that you were bearing his child, he cried. and by cry — i mean bawled out like a baby. clinging to you, overwhelmed at the fact that he was going to have a child with you, he was actually going to have a little family of his own.

just a few days after the news, he'd grown a lot more protective of your wellbeing. asking here and there about what you could and couldn't eat, or what might harm the growing baby inside you. searching here and there.

during your first trimester, more precisely, during your fifth week; the cravings began getting heavy and wonky. despite all that, choso still indulged in your cravings. hell, he even had to try some because he couldn't say no to you when you tried to share with him.

peanut butter and salmon sashimi, pickle juice with honey, cream cheese and fried chicken, ramen soup popsicles, bacon and toothpaste, milk and ramen seasoning, and more of those odd combinations. choso never did complain even once, if you wanted to eat something at three am, he'd run out and go find some no matter what — you were carrying his child, and he figured that was the least he could do for you.

"taste good, baby?" choso asks you, swiping his fingertips over the cream cheese spread on the corner of your lips.

nodding vigorously, you brought the half-eaten fried chicken messily dipped in the thick and white cream cheese spread — eyes shining brightly, as if asking him to try some with you. blinking in surprise, he took a bite. definitely a weird experience for him, and it was one of the oddest combination of food he had ever tried.

"'ts funny, but it's not bad," he swallowed after chewing the chicken a few times; reaching for the glass of water by the nightstand.

throughout your pregnancy, choso made sure to spoil you with a lot of things. the doll you looked at for a split second while the both of you ventured into the mall, the food he sees you browsing through his phone or your phone, tucking you in bed using the pillow he bought for pregnant women, and the feet massages for you everyday.

"where are you going?" choso asks, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. the dark spots under his eyes were getting darker every time — it was obvious the changes in his life had made it, but choso was more than enlightened to do it for you.

"want to drink," you whisper, letting out a cute incoherent noise as you tried to roll off the mattress.

choso was quick to hold you back, tucking you inside the bundle of covers, "i'll get it for you, stay here, okay?" he whispers, hopping off the bed to fetch you a glass of water — choso didn't want to keep you waiting, running off to the kitchen and fetching you a glass of water topped with a lot of ice cubes; something he noticed you'd chew on a lot ever since you got pregnant.

"here you go," he walks back carefully, handing you the water, pinching the skin on your nap gently as he watches you gobble the water down, parting your lips to pop in an ice cube or two.

nearing your due date, specifically just a few days after the 37th week — the contractions started. it was the ninth month, and it was expected. choso heard your hushed whimpers in his sleep, he would probably guess it was at dawn, probably around four? he didn't even bother checking on the time because all he cared was you.

he was barely awake, kicking off the covers and helping you. ushering you to slowly breathe in and out, his hand rubbing soothing circles on the hollow of your back. choso figured that he wanted you and the unborn child to be safe, and so he decided to bring you to the hospital where the experts are.

choso was worried beyond anyone else; even you. constantly staying by your side, his hair disheveled; a few strands going the opposite way, and tangled with each other. he laid his head down on the mattress, by your hand. choso laid his hand on your belly, rubbing against the cloth gently to ease the pain from the contractions.

at the early stage of labor, you were feeling cramps and an intense backache — which choso helped you through. he was glad he brought you to the hospital because not long after, your water broke. and he was there to help you through it all, clutching onto your hand as if he was holding on for dear life.

everything that the doctors or the nurses do, he felt his heart beat a notch quicker than earlier. choso was afraid, and he wasn't really afraid to admit it — i mean, you're his wife and you were carrying his child. he didn't want anything to happen to the both of you.

choso heard the doctor explain to him about what was going to happen, but everything that came in from his left ear exits through his right. he could barely remember anything because through out the explanation, he was too busy caring for you throughout the contractions that had grew a bit more intense during your active labor.

he hated everything inside the delivery room. it smelt like blood — choso was used to blood. but he didn't like it when it came from you, his heart drumming against his chest as he felt your grip tightened on his hand. frankly, he could care less if he broke a few bones as long as you and the baby were both okay.

choso hated seeing you in pain, even while delivering his baby. he didn't blame the baby, of course; he just wishes he could do something and take away the pain from you, latching his lips onto your sweat painted forehead. salty. he could taste your sweat against his lips, and despite that, he still refused to move.

"wish i could jus' take away the pain away from you, y/n," he whispers — hearing your pained grunt, your eyes glazed with fresh tears. and he kissed them away, whispering sweet nothings into your ears.

telling you it was just a bit more until you could see your baby, how proud he is of you, how much he loves you, how much he wished he could take away your pain, everything he felt in his heart at that moment all poured out into hushed whispers.

when the first cry of your baby echoed inside the rowdy delivery room, choso cried. he looked down at you, cradling your face in his hands, singing out, "good job, good job. 'm so proud of you, i love you so much."

the baby's a beautiful baby boy.

choso didn't want to hold the baby first as much as he wanted to — he felt like you deserved to touch the baby first after risking your life to birth him. and so he told the nurse to let you at least see the baby first, he refused to carry his son until you, his wife, touched him first; whether using your hands or any part of your body.

he stared in awe when the baby's loud cry eventually stopped when the nurse brought him to you, letting you coo at your own newborn son. his tears freely dropping, rubbing circles onto the back of your hand.

when the nurse asked him to have skin-to-skin contact, choso was nervous. what if he dropped his son? what if his son doesn't like him? what if his son doesn't like the way his skin feels? so many out of the box questions that didn't need to be answered were roaming in his mind.

as he slowly cradled his son, he blinked back the second round of tears that had threatened to fall. the light blue beanie stuck to his son's head seeped with a few drops of tears, leaning down to press his lips onto the baby's skin a few times. introducing himself as the baby's father and how happy he is to be one,

daichi l/n. that's the baby's name — it meant great first son. the both of you felt that it was a suitable name for your first baby.

choso slept on the small couch inside the hospital room during your healing week, in the middle of both you and him was daichi's small basinet where he slept soundly. he made sure to knock himself awake every now and then to check after both you and daichi.

when the hospital permitted you to go home, you completely relied on choso on heavy things — which you didn't even have to ask, he was already doing it for you. daichi gets a bit fussy at night, and choso always tells you to go back to sleep and that he'd handle the baby.

"you know, you're really noisy, right? mama's really worried about you," he gently poked the baby's cheek with his thumb as he cradled the small bundle of life affectionately, singing out a lullaby he remembered you singing to him years ago.

choso never knew he had a knack on changing diapers until you were occupied, and he had to change daichi's diaper. turns out he was really good at it, and from that day on — he's also told you that he got it. your body was still sore from delivery, and so everything around the house was mostly done by choso under your watch.

although choso's been the one taking care of daichi, he could definitely see how much the baby's turning out to be a big mama's boy even at a few months old. he noticed how daichi would only let you burp him, or sometimes daichi would get fussy when he felt choso raising him up during early mornings until you had to do it.

he didn't care. he wasn't jealous, daichi's still his son and he was glad that daichi loved you a little more than him. he'd like it if his baby prioritizes you first before him.

being a father is a great wonder to him. daichi's first word being 'mama', and his first steps was done while he was sauntering clumsily towards you. choso is such a proud father.

growing up, daichi turned out to be a big mama's boy. but still he loved choso too. now daichi lets choso carries him during mornings, and he relies on choso when something scares him while clutching onto your hand, taking small steps to hide behind choso. using his own father as a shield for him and you.

"don't worry, baby. 's just a lion in the screen, dada will protect us," you scooped the boy into your arms, pointing at the screen where a lion and its cub are walking.

"mmm. dada will protect you both," choso chimes in, ruffling daichi's thin hair.

daichi grew up loving boxing. you didn't know how he knows about it, but at the very next second, he was pestering choso to teach him boxing. and choso dreaded this because what was his son going to do at four years of age in pre-school with boxing? was he going to use it on his teachers? or his friends?

"no . . . maybe when you're older," choso's always said that, patting daichi's head as he does.

daichi whined every single time, but managed to forget when he saw some people drawing on TV. choso once again being a victim of his own son's pleading for some drawing lessons. as a father, choso of course accompanied daichi during his draw sessions in the living room right after the kid comes back from pre-school.

sometimes choso would draw too, having a little competition with his own son. which daichi mostly won — but at the same time, choso never complained about his loss. he was always proud of daichi.

"look, look mama! this is you, this is daichi, and this is dada!" daichi announces, pointing at every aspect of his drawing, explaining to you.

and to the fridge the drawing goes.

when daichi graduated pre-school, choso again, cried. taking pictures using the camera he had asked you to teach him how beforehand, and the pictures weren't the nicest. most of them being a blur of daichi walking down the stage with his small cap, waving his little hand to the camera.

choso was so proud of his son, of you, of himself. looking back— he's realized how far he had come despite not having to expect all of this. a loving wife. a son. a family.

choso was just glad he had his own little family now with you and his son. although . . . he wouldn't mind having another addition to the small community.

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