dad!gojo getting his newborn ready for bed | nothing but fluff
dad!gojo who places his newborn baby girl in the infant tub and gently pours warm water over her tiny body. his large hands almost completely covering her
dad!gojo who rubs in soft circles the vanilla scented baby soap all over her as he coos and makes silly faces to his daughter
dad!gojo who wraps his precious baby girl in her towel and pats her dry.
dad!gojo who gets her into a fresh diaper. (knowing itâs gonna be full of a baby mess by the time she wakes up tomorrow.)
dad!gojo who of course puts her in a pink âi love my daddyâ onesie. his baby squirming and babbling as he tries to get it on her properly.
âstay still munchkin, weâre almost done.â
dad!gojo who picks his daughter up after he finally manages to clothe her and gently rock her to sleep and pat her on the back for a good 40 minutes
dad!gojo realizes his little princess is finally asleepâwalking to her bassinet and kissing her forehead before placing her down and covering her with her pink blanket.
dad!gojo who stands over the bassinet for a while. watching his daughter sleep peacefully and promising inside his head to always protect her.
a/n: i love papatoru so much ^.^ i see gojo as a girl dad so much. he would def spoil his baby girl with everything she wants ugh i miss him. hope you guys enjoyed this!
youâre sitting on the couch, little baby girl in your arms as you breastfeed her.
everything is calm. tranquil. peaceful.
exceptâŚ
ââtoru, cut it out.â you scold satoru gojo sitting next to you, blue eyes glowing with annoyance. he grumbles, muttering incoherent nonsense through his pursed lips.
âjusâ donât get why she gets to suck your tits all day and i donât,â he huffs. you only sigh, not bothering to look at him anymore.
âshe is a baby. you are a grown man.â your baby coos as she keeps feeding, little eyes blinking with faint sleepiness. he only whines, scooching closer to be face-to-face with his enemy.
âyou took my spot,â he whispered, pouting with an over-exaggerated scrunched nose. she only giggles, accidentally kicking his face with her tiny, clothed foot.
âiâ whaâ did you see that?!â he cried, holding his face in obvious pain and pointing at the innocent little thing.
ââtoru, shut up! sheâs falling asleep,â you hissed. he only groans, stomping away to your room to soften up the babyâs crib brood.
a couple months (of agony) later, satoruâs gently lifting the hem of your shirt, your precious alone time finally being granted after your daughter falls asleep.
he lightly kisses around your chest, sucking slightly before his tongue reaches your nipple. a sour, yet familiar feeling touches his tastebuds.
âuh, lemon?â he asks, slightly chuckling, but also, very amused.
âoh, iâm trying to wean her. i figured using lemons is pretty good since she doesnât like sour stuff soâŚâ you explain.
It has been two years since you left Tokyo. Two years also, since you married him. That blonde guy standing over the counter, eyes pouring over that cookbook you sent out for him. Lately, thatâs all he does. He already tore through those mountains of books he collected over the years. Luckily, you have a healthy appetite.
Meanwhile, living in paradise was just that. Paradise. Walking the beaches barefoot, collecting seashells. On the occasion, making sand castles. But lately ...
Lately, youâve been fatigued. Leaning against the wall with a warm mug in your hand. You watch him intently, hoping that he makes you favorite again. But looking down into the mug, you feel tired again ⌠The caffeine isnât working.
But you shake it off ⌠Maybe itâs coming ...
Then ... you miss it. That little one a month visitor. Perhaps itâs just delayed ⌠âCheck it out,â Shoko says bluntly. But you stutter, almost fumbling the cellphone. You try to explain it off. But she just repeats, âcheck it out.â
The two of you live about an hour away from the city, but heâll need more supplies for his little baking experiments. A good excuse.
You come home to see him work away in the kitchen. Bending down on the balls of his feet, watching the oven intently. His brows furrowed. Those pretty hazel eyes intense.
He no longer wears his glasses. So you see them all the time now. A sight in which never gets old.
âHey honey, Iâm back.â
âH-heyâ He doubles takes your way. He wants to greet you but ⌠the bread. With a sniff, itâs your favorite, so you understand.
You place the groceries down, and scurry to the bathroom to immediately take the test. It doesnât take long but every passing second is torture. Thenâ
Itâs a positive. A positive ⌠With two hands, you push back against the sink. A positive ⌠everything is going to change. Once you lock eyes with yourself in the mirror. Nervousness. Excitement. Worry. Happiness. All these emotions ⌠Splashing your face with some cold water, you know to be safe, you have to make a doctorâs appointment.
You open the door which almost hits him. He holds a plate full of your favorite bread with your favorite topping. His smile is so sweet and sincere, like a little showing up his masterpiece. Immediately you reach for one but pull back, remembering what is behind your back. But he saw it. He saw what was in your hand. His eyes darting to yours before widening.
Itâs confirmed at the doctorâs. They even print out a picture of the sonogram. At the doctorâs office both of you canât take your eyes off of it. Even Kento who drives you both home, sneak peaks at it whilst you hold it on the way home.
At home, you frame the picture and place it where Kento, you, and anyone who comes over can see. Every once in a while, you see your husband lurking by the picture, picking it up and studying every minuet detail.
At night you and him lay down in bed, his fingers intertwined with yours. Lately his eyes wonât leave your stomach, almost impatientlyâlike a child asking if theyâre there yet. Impatiently waiting for it to grow.
There is a spark to him latelyâand to you of course. But the always bored, mono tone, stick in the mud Nanami walks with an extra pep in his step. You find him smiling for no reason at all. Like now. âWhat are you thinking about?â You give his hand a tight squeeze.
âWhat do you think?â He looks at you smiling before raising your entwined hands to look at your matching rings.
âItâs moments like this, that I canât believe my luck. All that idiocy ⌠led me to this moment, here with you.â You two smile at each other. âIt was worth it. Absolutely worth it ⌠But I canât help but to feel a little âŚâ He starts to say something else but stops himself. You wiggle his arm to say more.
âIâve been have more and more dreams lately. Itâs a feeling Iâm not used to. Its started when I met you, when we got married.â
âYou have more dreams? Come on, tell me.â He canât take that playful smile of yourâs.
âMy dream âŚâ He lays his head on the pillow smiling so wide that even his teeth poke out, âis to one day some home to see you playing with the kids, and have them run to me. And then visa versa.â
âThatâs a nice dream âŚâ You stare at him smiling.
As the months grow, so does your belly. You watch on as he assembles the crib. Converts the spare room to a babyâs room. Baby proofing the house. All while making sure you are comfortable. Bringing you iced drinks of your choosing when you heat up. Making sure youâre not too cold at night. Give you massages even when you didnât ask. Those strong hands, fingers kneading your skin easing away the aches and pains.
You remember how some of your friends used to complain that their husbands didnât even look at them when they were pregnant. Not yours, if anything, you think he found you more attractive. You catch him looking at you, with a little smirk admiring you.
But itâs not all easy ...
One night was particularly hard. You canât sleep. Kento leans on his arm, his hand pushing up your shirt, his strong calloused fingers rubbing circles around your belly. âIf itâs a girl, maybe sheâll look like you.â But you just side eye him, âyour hair, your smile, your eyes ⌠just a mini you.â
âMost first born girls look like⌠their dad âŚâ Your eyes grow heavier. âI hope she looks ⌠like you.â
âSo long as shes healthy, thatâs all we can ask for, hm?â He looks at you, finally youâre asleep, but he stays there fearing to wake you up. He doesnât mind though. Still rubbing your belly. Every once in a while he can feel the babe kick.
The whole events of his life replay in rapid motion. All leading to this one moment. His hand on his wifeâs stomach that holds his child. His. He glances up to your sleeping face, silently thanking youâfor if it wasnât for you, none of this would be possible. Oh how he wants to kiss you. Instead, his head collapses into the pillow, falling to sleep.
You wake up, Kento still next to you, his hand still splayed out on your belly. You swear he is still smiling. The morning sun highlighting him ...
A few days later, youâre waddling into the kitchen, hungry again. Kento watches each and everyone of your movements. Ready to help you at a momentâs notice. With a fruity ice pop, you make your way to the back deck with the ocean view. So peaceful ⌠Until your eyes widen.
He sits at the counter reading some newspapers that was sent from Tokyo whilst sipping his gourmet coffee. Not exactly current, but stillâbeats digital any day. âKEN!â He spits then chokes on the coffee, almost stumbling to the floor as he runs to you. Your face almost disgusted but nervous but excited.
After a change, he, carrying the hospital bag you prearranged excorts you to the car opening the door for you, making sure the seat belt is tight. For the first time in almost two yearsâyou havenât seen his face so intense.
The baby comes with no problems. Healthy as can be. And itâs a girl. A beautiful baby girl. You name her in your arms, booping her little nose.
When you place her into his arms, heâs nervous ⌠but unnecessarily so, itâs as though she was always meant to be there. They fit so perfectly together. His smile is so pure and genuine. You havenât seen him smile like this since your wedding day.
Once home, you get to work. Making sure that child is taken care of to the best of your ability. Waking up in the middle of the night to cries. Changing endless diapers. You never complain. And he sees that.
Itâs night, you wake up, shooting up from bed to, nothing. Absolutely nothing, itâs unsettling. Throwing off the covers you hurry to the crib. The baby isnât there. In a panic, you walk quickly through the hallway and in the dark kitchen, in the only illumination of a single light, you see Kento holding your child. He tests the milk on his wrist before gently pushing it to the babyâs mouth.
You lean against the wall in silence watching this hulk of a man. You remember once seeing him fight some goliah curse with Yuji, barely breaking a sweat. His face stoic the whole time. After the curse turned to dust, he just walked away straightening out his suit jacket. But now, that man is this: holding your wee little baby ever so gently.
You watch as the bottle empty, and with all intent and purpose, he places a towel over his shoulder and starts to pat the little back so, so tenderly. You canât help to smile at the sincere concentration on his face. Finally he turns around, your figure startling him in the dark. âHow long were youthere?â
âLong enough to enjoy the view.â
âI got this, go back to sleep.â Like every woman that gave you advice, you take this opportunity to catch up on some rest. You turn back down the hallway to catch up on some sleep. Tomorrow, youâre a stronger woman.
But as everyone also says, babies grow in the blink of an eye.
A couple of months later ~
He sits in his reading seat, his mountain of books replaced by baby books. Wrapped in a snug little blanket, he reads a book to your daughter in a voice trying so desperately to get away from that monotone you love so much. It makes you giggle. He stops to look at you. âSorry, sorry continue. I was enjoying the read as well.â And you were. Youâof courseâwere not laughing at him. The cuteness of the view is just overwelming.
He continues to read, word by word. The baby eventually grips the side of the plastic book. Whilst still reading, you watch your husbandâwith those huge long fingersâever so gently, peel away those fragile little grippers one by one as he turns a page.
~
You sit on the living room floor playing blocks with the babe. Nanami comes home. âWhoâs that!? Is that Daddy!? Yeah!? Come on letâs go see Daddy!â You try to pick up the child but instead ⌠with a gummy smile and eyes nearly shut looking directly at him, she wobbles, one step, then twoâimmediately you look at Nanamiâs face. Eyes wide, glossy. The baby falls back onto her butt. No crying, only laughing as she gets right back up.
But Kento runs to scoop up the baby kissing her forehead. He is about to cry. What you are witnessing is the accumulation of personâs greatest wish. And itâs breathtaking.
~
Today, Kento was watching the littler Nanami, allowling you to have some alone time. You walk in on him baking (but of course) and her overseeing him in her high chair. The moment your daughter sees you, her face brightens and her arms stretch for you. âMa!â she slams her little hands on the tray.
Kentoâs head whips to her. You, mascara running down your face. The sight of you grabbing your baby and happy crying sends him off. He looks away scrunching his eyes. For the first time in ⌠ever, he burns the cookies.
~
Ino is visiting this week. You watch over the deck as he runs from your blissful child. She loves her Uncle Ino. Chasing him, burying him in the sand. To see her smile, her little blonde hair sticking straight up in a single ponytail. This week, you have off (well not really but âŚ), Ino is helping out a lot.
For the first time in months, you and Kento are going out on a date. After some much needed time to yourselves, you two arrive home, hand in hand, to see Ino splayed out on the couch, your daughter nuzzled onto his chest. His trademark beanie, still on, albeit framed by cheap plastic earrings and a pink pearled necklace. Apparently they were playing Pretty Pretty Princess.
~
Every once in a while, one of the sorcerers come down to say hello. Ino mostly, but sometimes Mei Mei and her brother Ui Ui. At first she scared your daughter, but she gave her a gift, her first piggy bank.
Nobara once brought in a luggage full of baby clothes. Together they even painted their nails. Whilst Yuji had way too much fun giving piggy back rides and being your daughterâs make up canvas. Lastly, Megumi enjoyed sharing a little meal with her (your baby is a clean eater). He even didnât mind when she would play with his hair.
Shoko and Utahime even visited, all four ladies (you included) just sunbathed on the beachâwith sun screen of course. At one point, your sun glass wearing daughter looks over, to see each of the women with their arms to their side, ankles crossed, she does the same.
She seems to genuinely like everyone ⌠Everyone except ⌠You walk outside to greet him. Instead you see your husband, eyes squinted, mouth pushed into a thin line, arms folded. You look down, to see your daughter, little chubby arms folded, eyes squinted, mouth just like her fatherâs. Two peas. âOh my God thereâs two of them.â Gojo looks back and forth, his head almost swinging.
~
Itâs her first day of preschool. You watch as Kento straightens out her little jacket and makes sure her little backpack isnât too tight.
Both of you fidget. Two ex-sorcerers who faughtâand defeatedâcountless of curses, nervous to hear about their daughterâs first day. The door opens and the kids come flooding out. Finally you see the little blonde, arms stretched out running to the both of you. You grab her and pick her up, little feet dangling in the air while Kento pulls off the backpack.
She pulls for him and in one fluid motion, he places her on his back not caring that she is grabbing a tiny (but firm) handful of his hair.
That night you watch as as he makes covers her. She had a big adventure today. You make sure her favorite teddy is right next to her.
The two of you slink back ever so stealthy, closing the door.
As youâre about to do something, you feel your arm being tugged and before you know it, youâre tugged to him where he meets you in a passionate kiss. Once he has you where he needs you, he cups your face with both hands. Even trapping you against a wall. Whispering your name, like a prayer to the Goddess that you are, âcan we another,â breathlessly, âmaybe a son?â
Your eyes meet. Your hands wrap around his broad shoulders. You seal it with a kiss. But of course.
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