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simpxxstan · 4 months ago

Note

hellaur been thinking of single-girl-dad wonu and reader who've been with him through up and down.. just had a dream of him taking care of a toddler i wanna ask him hand in marriage 😫

it could be spicy or floofy fluff, wanna see ur thoughts on this 💋

thank you for your request!! i hope i haven't made you wait too long T_T i was so soft while writing this, i really really really hope you like it <3 really wanted to post this on 17th july but i'm late (as always) happy belated birthday wonwoo!!! hope you're happy forever <3

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here!

genre: fluff, single dad au, friends to lovers, mutual pining

word count: 4k

warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff. mildly suggestive tones if you squint but nothing really. just- girl dad and simp wonu.

wonwoo knows he's probably never going to forget that day of his life. that day he woke up to the sound of the doorbell, and a child crying outside his apartment. that day when his ex-girlfriend dropped the child off at his doorstep after informing him that this is his daughter. that day when he learnt that the girlfriend he broke up with a year ago had actually borne and raised his child without even informing him. until this day, when she'd suddenly been thrust upon him along with the news that his ex was now getting married to someone from a different country and she could not possibly take the child with her.

and wonwoo had just stared at the little creature sitting in his lap, unable to say anything, unable to even form coherent thoughts. in the background, he could faintly hear his ex's voice blabber on as she wound up excuse-after-excuse of how she has to leave to marry some chaebol and how it's been a crazy year and how she's tried to reach him but never ended up doing it because her parents couldn't afford for her to go into the public with the baby and how she hasn't named the child yet because she was too afraid to get attached to the baby.

he sat there on his couch, staring at the little daughter who looked so much like him that even a random stranger would be able to understand she was his child, even as she left, promising that she'd never see him or the child again.

and wonwoo sat like that until you walked in through the door, drained after a nineteen-hour shift, still wearing your scrubs and your hands shaking with exhaustion, but still carrying a box of fried chicken and two bottles of soju.

"who's this?" your voice had broken him out of his trance and he'd looked up after staying frozen in that state for hours.

"my daughter."

wonwoo could see the way your eyes widened under your glasses and your breath speed up in that one second. "is she?"

"yes. rhea dropped her off."

"rhea? like rhea from college?"

"yeah."

you don't say anything else. you just drop the food on the dining table and pick up the child from wonwoo's arms. "she needs to change her diapers. can't you smell it?"

he had stared up at you, still not fully back in reality. "i don't have any."

"well, let's go out and buy some then."

and wonwoo hadn't questioned it. he still doesn't question it as you sit at his dining table, feeding his four year daughter soup because she's caught fever after playing in the rain. he didn't question it yesterday when you'd woken up in the middle of the night in feverish delusion and called for eomma. he doesn't question it when you know more about her than he does.

"hey" he says when he walks into the room, his hair still messy from sleeping in. both the girls in his life turn to look at him, identical smiles plastered on your faces, and wave at him. wonwoo doesn't know if it's possible for his heart to feel this full every day and survive even after nearly suffer a heart attack every time he wakes up to this sight, but he doesn't question it.

"there's bread and soup for brunch if you want some." he sits down next to you, your knees almost touching his, and reaches out to pat the cheeks of his daughter who's sitting on your lap. "she's eaten it all like a good girl. so you should do." you softly land his daughter in his lap, and stand up.

"daddy's girl is just perfect, aren't you, baby?" wonwoo hugs her close, worrying about how her tiny body is still warm, but at least there's food in her tummy now.

"she is. i'll leave now, wonwoo."

"sorry for calling you last night. i didn't know what to do when she called for you."

you smile but wonwoo can see how tired your eyes are.

"you did the right thing. call me again if you need me. i'll come around anyway tonight." wonwoo nods.

"bye-bye eunchae-ah! i'll see you later."

when you lean in to kiss eunchae on her cheeks, wonwoo's face right next to his daughter's, he almost feels your kiss on his cheek too. but it doesn't come. it never does. he smiles at his own foolishness, before he waves you goodbye, following his daughter's actions too.

he wishes you didn't have to leave every day. he has a bedroom dedicated for you. he has a toothbrush for you. he has an assigned chair on the dining table for you. his daughter calls you eomma in the depths of the night. his mind calls for you whenever he feels out of his depths. his body craves for you every time he sees you.

he wishes you didn't have to leave.

but you're back every time like you promise. you come right back, to take care of him and his daughter. like tonight, wonwoo knows as he sneaks a peek at the elepant clock on the wall.

eunchae's fever is slowly coming back, and wonwoo's given her the syrupy medicine but he knows what she's really craving is cuddles. he holds her close, reading out a storybook to her in a soft voice he reserves for his girls, but he knows he can't sit like this for long. his stream is scheduled at nine-thirty, and he has to be on time because the stakes are high tonight.

the clock strikes nine and wonwoo hears the door unlock. "y/n-ie is home!" eunchae immediately breaks out of her sleepy daze and squeals out, "y/n-ie! come fast! dad's reading the story about the pirates!" "is he?" you open the door and lean against the frame. wonwoo's heart skips a beat as he sees the way your heart shines with love as you look at eunchae, your hair falling all over your face after the long day at work. "but maybe y/n-ie can read it out for princess eunchae? dad will get dinner in the meantime." you step up closer to where the two of them are snuggled up in wonwoo's bed, "i'll read the rest out for you. and maybe i can show you pictures of the new puppy hansol rescued today?" eunchae's eyes light up, all exhaustion from the fever disappearing at the sound of her favourite uncle, hansol, and the puppies he rescues. wonwoo takes that as his cue to leave you with eunchae. when he tries to get up, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed, you lean forward to squeeze his shoulders. "is today the day of the match?" "hmm." "well, good luck then, champ."

wonwoo grins. "i don't need luck. you know that."

he doesn't know where the earlier confidence had come from, but it's certainly gone now. he's nearly died three times already and he cannot afford to make any more slips. he knows the money's coming in steady, but it's not half close to the mental target he'd placed for tonight's stream. he has to do better for the money to come up faster so he focuses his entire being on the final round of the match.

and he does not disappoint. he wins fair and square, albeit by the narrow margin. the money rapidly builds in the last few moments of the game, when he shoots down every minion of the opponent, and finally the opponent's main character itself.

when the stream finally ends, and he turns off the computer's video and audio, he can finally take a break. it's three am on the computer's clock, and his eyes burn. the adrenaline pumps through his veins but as soon as his headphones are off, he can feel reality reeling him again.

after a small snack stolen from the fridge and a shower in warm water, he finally makes way to his bedroom. he doesn't expect you to be awake, but he certainly doesn't expect seeing you sleeping soundly in his bed, your legs tangled in his comforter, and his daughter snuggled against your chest, spread across the entire bed as if it's not his bed. but then, what even is his? not his bedroom, not his daughter, and certainly not his heart.

he presses a light kiss on eunchae's forehead and pats your hair once, to which you let out a sleepy whimper. before he can let his mind wander at that sound, he escapes from the room and goes to the guest bedroom.

"are you winning games only to be banished from your own bedroom? you should've asked me to move!" you stomp your leg and whine when you see wonwoo sitting in the bed of the guest bedroom the next morning, lazily brushing his teeth. your pajamas are not yours- they're ones you've borrowed so often from him that it's nearly become yours. but they're still too loose at your legs, dangling below your feet. your eyes are red with sleep in spite of waking up at nine am, so thank god it's your off-day.

wonwoo pulls you by your arm and makes you flop down on the bed next to him. he removes the toothbrush from his mouth, the foam still in his mouth, but he mouths coffee. "god, you're so dirty. clean your mouth before talking. what is eunchae going to learn?" but wonwoo can see that your vexing is all made-up because it takes one tug on your arm to make you burst into a smile.

it's a special day- it's three years since wonwoo officially adopted eunchae and became her father on all legal papers. it's an emotional day every year, but a happy one. wonwoo does not regret adopting eunchae for even one second. it's been quite a hectic journey and he wouldn't be anywhere without your help but he wouldn't go back for a billion dollars. eunchae has completed his life in more ways than one. she's shown him unconditional trust and reciprocated his love without a second's hesitation. she's changed him from an anxious, private person to a person who is more open towards embracing challenges now and even more accepting towards all twists of fate. and most importantly, she's brought you to him.

she's given him his own family- one that he didn't even know he needed. but he's found a home away from home and it's the best part of his life. a family that doesn't judge him for being twenty-five and choosing to be a pro-gamer instead of a proper job as his own family had said. a family that lets him be clueless about life because they take care of him instead. a family that doesn't care about social appearances and going out, and chooses simple home barbecue with friends over getting drunk in clubs.

after he brushes his teeth, he walks out of the room to the living space, and finds you sitting with eunchae at the couch, who's sipping berry milkshake and colouring into her sketchbook. "look who's up, chaechae!" his daughter looks up and shouts out his name, and he scoots over and sits next to her on the couch, pulling her tiny legs into his own. you quickly shift your body away so that he doesn't crash into you, but wonwoo wishes you weren't so considerate. "i made coffee. and i'm going to make wraps with the leftovers from what you made yesterday. can you get her bathed after this? i'll get breakfast ready by then."

wonwoo hates it and loves it at the same time.

it being whenever the two of you drop eunchae at her school.

he hates it because he's always too sad to see his baby go off into school without even looking back at him once because she's just that excited to meet her friends. he hates it because all the parents assume that the two of you are a couple and keep asking you over to their houses for your kids to have playdates. he hates the other alternative too- when he clarifies that you're just friends, some of the mothers begin flirting with him too much and he's desperate for you to save him, but you totally encourage it. "you should start dating again, you know. it would do you good, now that eunchae's grown up." god no. it would do him no good- not when his heart is convinced that he's already dating a certain doctor who loves his daughter like her own.

and yet he loves it. he loves it because you stay beyond breakfast on these days, help him dress eunchae and also pamper her with a bubble bath. he loves it because you bathe in his shower on these days, and come out smelling like his shower gel. he loves it because you spend the entire day with him, talking to him about your patients and about your coworkers. he loves it because it's the only day he gets you completely to himself- he doesn't even schedule any events or streams on this day. it's his favourite day of the week, better than any weekend. he has a set plan for it, and it never fails. here's how it goes:

step 1 of the day- he drives around town and 'accidentally' stumbles upon a pretty-looking cafe that he suggests the two of you could try, and you, thankfully everytime, say yes.

"where do you wanna go today?" you ask him, and wonwoo's scared for a second that you've caught his act. no, surely not. "we could just drive around, you know."

step 1 success.

step 2 of the day- he offers to drop you home and let you rest, but you, thankfully everytime, never agree to his offer, saying that you want to enjoy a day out in the sun with him, because you're literally always stuck in the ER.

"i could drop you home. you could take a well-deserved break." "nah, i would much rather spend it with you. i'll just drown in my own head if i stay at home."

step 2 success.

step 3 of the d-

"we could go back to your place. we could binge the new series that's come out last friday. heard amazing reviews." you suggest casually, while scrolling something on your phone.

wonwoo actually almost crashes the car as he turns 90 degrees to look at you. this is unexpected. this is unprecedented. this has never happened before in the last three years of your whatever-ship.

"series?" when he speaks, his voice comes out weakly. "yeah, criminal and supernatural. just the genres we both love." fuck, you run a strong case.

wonwoo only hesitates for a second, before he makes a u-turn to go back home- because what's better than sitting across a table at a public cafe buying overpriced coffee? sitting together at the couch at home watching quality television.

wonwoo's too stressed about leaving eunchae behind with hansol and seungkwan. he's sure they'll mess up something or the other, but you're stern. "wonwoo, they'll be fine! she's four years old. grown up enough. and you know how much sollie and kwannie love her." "exactly- they love her too much. they'll never be able to say no to her." "and they won't have to. our eunchae is smart enough to not ask for unreasonable things. have faith in your parenting."

wonwoo wants to say: i have no faith in my parenting, but full faith in yours. but he doesn't. instead he quietly continues driving. it's your college reunion party- and it's the first time in years that you and wonwoo are attending. "i can't believe it's been five years since we got out of college." "well, eunchae's four."

you laugh, "you're right. wonwoo, i have no sense of time. it feels like only yesterday that we began talking in class." as you two walk into the hall decorated beautifully and filled with people, wonwoo's arm in yours. there are many known faces in the crowd ahead, but he can say, confidently and unbiasedly, that you're the most beautiful.

"don't remind me, please. it was so embarrassing to see seungcheol tell you that i had a crush on you." you laugh even harder, "but it was so funny! i didn't even know before that day, so i gotta thank seungcheol." "you look just as good as you did that day when i took your number." you look away for a second before looking up at him again. "is that so, mr jeon? you think i still look like a half-dead med student who's trying to survive with four hours of sleep and packed kimbap-" "no! don't misunderstand me," wonwoo fake-pouts at your fake-anger, and you both burst out laughing. "well, you don't have a crush on me anymore, so i'm certain the charm of the half-dead med student has worn off."

it's not, wonwoo's arm pulls you in tighter. god, he wishes he was not a coward. he wishes he could tell you that the charm has doubled, tripled, quadrupled every year, and he cannot imagine loving any woman as much as he loves you.

the evening definitely starts off better than wonwoo had expected. everyone seems to have forgotten how awkward and quiet wonwoo was back in college, and only remembered how good a gamer he was and how handsome he was back then. it's surprising how many people claim to be his fans here, and wonwoo feels his chest fill up. when he brings drinks for you both, he sees you speaking to rhea. "i see you've met y/n, rhea." "yes, well! i had no idea that she's so involved in taking care of our daughter."

our child? there's a spike of anger that rushes through his brain and wonwoo sees red. instinctively, your hand finds his own and squeezes his palm, a slight smile tugging at your lips, evidently asking him to back off. but wonwoo doesn't want to back off. even if rhea creates a scene right now, he doesn't care. he would much rather go home to his daughter rather than be here amidst people who don't even like him.

"i'm right glad you left eunchae with me when you did. y/n's raised her as her own daughter, and thank god we don't have to confuse her with another wannabe mother figure who didn't think before abandoning her."

rhea opens her mouth to say something, but you pull him away quickly, saying your goodbyes. you find the nearest exit, and pull wonwoo into the fresh air of the night.

"there was no need for snapping at her, wonwoo." you push him against a wall gently, rubbing your hand over his arms to ground him. "how dare she say eunchae's her child? she doesn't even know her name, for god's sake. she has no claim on her!" "she's literally her biological mother-" "so what? she dumped her on me, on you! you're a hundred times more her mother than rhea is!"

you stay stunned for a second, the wind blowing your hair away from your face. "what?"

"you've raised her, y/n. you're her mother, and i know eunchae will agree me 100% on-"

you take a step back. wonwoo takes a step forward, his heart panicking at the thought of losing you.

"wonwoo, i'm... i can't..."

"do you not realise it? why she calls you eomma?"

"but i- i don't mean to replace... i don't mean to take anyone's place..." another step back.

"whose place? there's literally no one else," another step ahead.

"your future wife... or girlfriend... or whoever will be her mother-" another step back and your back hits the wall.

wonwoo takes another step closer to you, towering over your figure. "there's going to be no one else. no one. no other mother figure in her life. or in mine."

you gulp, your breath still weak as you pant softly. "what are you saying wonwoo?"

"i'm saying i love you." fuck. that feels better to say out loud- a large boulder getting off his chest. he doesn't know what you're going to say, but it sure feels good to get it out. "i don't know how you feel. but i want to tell you how i feel, because i'm tired of being a coward. it's because i am coward that people like rhea have the audacity to say things like that. y/n, i've loved you for so many years now. my crush on you since that day seungcheol introduced us? never went away. not just because you're my best friend but also because you've taken care of me and given so much to me unconditionally through the years. without you- i wouldn't have been here, eunchae would've gone to another family through social services, and i would be a person living a hollow life with no love-"

"i would always be here, wonwoo. i'm your best friend-"

"but you've also become so much more. you've become my family, my saviour and guiding force, and my daughter's eomma. she wants nobody but you. i want nobody but you."

there's tears welling up in your eyes and wonwoo's heart aches. his hands automatically wrap around your face, wiping away the tears. "what's wrong, y/n-ie? i know this may have been a shock and you probably hate me for dumping this on-"

"i love you, jeon wonwoo!" your voice is weak, strangled.

"what?"

you twist your face to lightly peck at his hand that's cupping your cheeks. "i love you. i have loved you. i'm sorry i didn't know you felt the same way for so long..."

wonwoo's body melts and caves in. there was a wild tension which had been running in his body for so long but it dissipates totally now. he inches your face up towards him.

"shhhhh, baby. can i kiss you? i'm sick of loving you in secret. i want to show you how much i love you."

as soon as you nod, he leans in to claim your lips, your taste sweet like sugar and just as good as he had imagined it to be. your hands wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in closer towards you, your back completely flat against the wall. wonwoo grips your face and wraps around your waist at the same time.

it's honestly a miracle that you two haven't touched in the last three years where you've gotten so close. yes, the accidental brushing of hands, the affectionate hand patting hair, the playful punches and the mild tugging of arms. but nothing close to what wonwoo's wanted to do with you.

and now that you have started, he can't let go.

"baby?" his voice is raspy as he breaks the kiss, a string of spit linking your mouth to his, your chests heaving against each other. "yes?" "can you say it once more?" "hmm?" "you..." "i love you? yes i do." and wonwoo picks you up in his arms, not caring about how your legs flutter in the air as he spins around in joy. "what's this, jeon wonwoo! don't be a child!" "i'm just so happy." he finally puts you down, but doesn't let you get far.

"you know, it's such a wonderful conincidence that eunchae is safe with hansol and kwannie today. maybe we should take advantage?" the smirk on your lips give it all away, as you smack his chest. "and i thought you only loved me for your baby." "well, i intend to drive all mythical thoughts out of your pretty head tonight, baby."

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literaila · 4 months ago

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I seriously love the relationship between Megumi and reader. He is in fact, a mama's boy lol

But Dadgojo and Megumi moments are cute as hell too

So herw you go a small oneshot: Little Megs would always go to reader's or Tsumiki's bedroom when he has nightmares. He already trusts you enough to see him vulnerable and goes to seek for your protection, and of course you never complain and comfort him.

But this time is different. He had a nightmare and you were on a mission and Tsumiki is staying at a friend's house.

There is only one person left in the house: Gojo.

So, with the greatest shame and irritation in the world at having to depend on his annoying and childish dad, he goes to Gojo's room because at moments like these he can't stand being alone. So he eats his shame and goes to seek for him.

You can imagine reader's surprise when she comes back home in the morning and finds Satoru and your son cuddling together on the bed, Megumi's hold on Gojo's shirt tight as both sleep peacefully.

You swear you are not like Satoru, but you can't help it but to pick up the phone and take thousands of pictures of this rare moment, knowing it wont happen again (because Megumi won't do it twice after Satoru didn't stop mocking him about it.)

honestly you might as well just write the series for me. like do you wanna look in my inbox? you can write all of the one shots currently rotting away (i’m not asking im pleading)

this is so correct though.

megumi’s just not used to not having you home. when this arrangement first began you took some time off, let satoru handle everything (as per usual) so you could take care of the kids. adapt.

when you resume your former busy schedule, both of the kids are slightly thrown off. and satoru too—because he misses you. he’s known the caress of your absence and isn’t fond of the feeling.

and now it’s megumi’s turn.

but the boy doesn’t start having serious nightmares till around seven or eight (despite the…lack of an upbringing, the rotting apartment and cuddling with tsumiki in bed so neither of them froze in their sleep).

when it happens the first time, he sits there, waiting for some answer to come. he’s a quiet, stoic kid—and he doesn’t get scared. he’s not like his soft, kind sister. he doesn’t even flinch when others would jump.

he lays there until he falls asleep again. and he won’t mention it. megumi doesn’t need to worry you or satoru (mostly you) with this.

then it happens a second time.

this time he’s woken up on the verge of tears—already passed that breaking point—and he can’t stay in bed. he can’t lay there and recall images of monsters no child should understand.

so he gets out of bed—but just for a glass of water. he’s still not scared.

though it just so happens that you’re already in the kitchen when he gets there, and it just so happens that you know things about him—just because you know—so there’s nothing he can do to hide any of it.

still, you’ll only tilt your head at him, giving him a half-sleepy smile. “hey, megs. you okay?”

“i’m thirsty.”

so you get him his glass of water and you watch while he takes tentative sips.

again, somehow you just know. the same way that megumi knows that you know.

“are you having a hard time sleeping?” you ask him, after a minute of silence.

megumi shakes his head on instinct.

you’re still smiling. “bad dreams?”

and he could lie—he’s so very used to lying about things like this. megumi doesn’t want people to see him as this little boy who needs their help. he wants an equal playing field, and he doesn’t want to be scared.

but he is.

and when it comes to you, and only you, megumi is a terrible liar.

so he nods, and your smile remains—sure as always.

��i get ‘em too,” you whisper to him. “even when i was a kid. especially then.”

“you do?”

“yup. all the time.”

“what…” megumi furrows his brows. “what do you do?”

“hmm…” you go and stand beside him at the counter, leaning your chin on a hand. “well, it depends on the dream. sometimes they’re… smaller. and i can usually sleep through those ones, but i always remember them in the morning.”

megumi nods; he has all sorts of dreams.

dreams of running around with tsumiki, of going on missions with gojo. he dreams of you in the kitchen, you telling him to keep going. and he dreams of the dark. of a house that could never be a home.

he dreams of being all alone, and when he wakes up, it feels so real that he can’t help it.

he begins to believe that it’s true.

“when i have bigger ones, though, that i can’t sleep though… well, usually i just wake satoru up.”

megumi frowns. “why?”

“he’s so irritating that i forget all about the dream.”

“oh. yeah.”

you laugh. “or i just ask him for a hug. he always says yes. or i wake him up and we steal a car and drive around for a bit,” you add, almost absentmindedly.

megumi blinks, about to interrupt, but you continue.

“sometimes i just lay in bed until i fall back asleep. or i get up and do something else—get some water,” you give him a pointed look, “so that it feels less real.”

“does it work?”

“most of the time,” you answer, so softly. and you’re right there next to him, still smiling. “wanna watch a movie or something? i’ll let you pick.”

megumi frowns. you don’t like to let them stay up late (despite satoru’s many attempts to go out for gas station ice cream at three in the morning). “really?”

“sure.”

and you sit with him on the couch, not cuddling, but close enough.

megumi listens to you laugh at the random movie he put on—something tsumiki likes—and it feels a little bit better. he feels a little less alone.

and later on, just when he’s falling back to sleep, almost slumping on you, you’ll whisper to him: “the thing about nightmares, megumi,” your hand is in his hair and your voice is almost a lullaby. “is that you can always wake up.”

so megumi gets in the habit of looking for you when he’s had a nightmare—the bad ones, like you mentioned. he doesn’t ask you for a hug, or ask you to sit with him, but you do anyway.

and somehow the two of you will end up on the couch, or in his bed, so close together that megumi can’t have another bad dream (because he’s suffocating).

but on this night—the one night where you’re not home—megumi isn’t sure what to do.

because he doesn’t want to be alone. he doesn’t want to feel trapped in his room, and there’s no way he’s falling back asleep now, and why did he forget that you weren’t going to be home tonight, and—

“psst,” a voice says, a little bit amused. “why are you awake, kid?”

almost immediately megumi straightens. his arms cross like it’s a habit. and when he looks to gojo, he’s already expecting the grin. “why are you?”

“i was calling y/n. or she was calling me. it’s hard to be away from me, you know,” gojo is sprawled out on the couch, taking megumi’s spot.

“it can’t be that hard.”

gojo shakes his head, pouting. “are you awake because the guilt from all of the cruel things you say is keeping you up?”

megumi rolls his eyes. says a curt: “no,” and then pauses.

if you’re not here then what…

“what else could it be?”

“nothing,” megumi answers, immediately defensive.

gojo purses his lips, considering megumi. “why do you look weird?”

“why do you?”

“is that the only insult you’ve got?”

and finally, the boy gives in. he steps over to the couch, sitting down next to gojo (ten feet away) with his arms still crossed. “it’s late.”

“that’s no excuse, young fushiguro.”

they both sit there for a moment, staring off.

then gojo speaks up: “you know y/n would kill you if she knew you were awake, right?”

“no. she would kill you.”

“that’s…” gojo huffs. “true.”

at this, megumi lets out a grunt—it could be a laugh, could be a cough.

he doesn’t want to tell gojo about the dreams, he decides. because he doesn’t want to be ridiculed, and he doesn’t want gojo to tell you and then—

he’s not even scared. you’re gone, tsumiki is sleeping, and gojo is… staring at him.

“are you going to answer my question?”

megumi merely grunts again.

“c’mon, don’t make this awkward.”

“can’t. you already have.”

gojo scoffs, leaning back again, crossing his arms in a poor mimic. “we’ve been letting nanami watch you too much,” he says, but continues. “fine. don’t tell me. i can call y/n back right now and you can talk to—“

“no,” megumi looks over to him, wide eyes.

“then speak, kid.”

he sighs, annoyed. at least you’re right about one thing. it takes a moment, but megumi relents because he has to. “i had a bad dream.”

gojo’s face goes slack. “oh.”

megumi feels like crawling into himself, for just a moment, and then: “do you want to talk about it?”

blue eyes meet blue, and megumi frowns. “what?”

“do you want to talk about it?” gojo repeats, but… weirdly, this time. awkwardly.

“um..” is all the boy says, feeling like he should move away. like to his room away. like he should probably find someone else to live with, a random stranger, even, because that would be easier.

“i don’t know, okay?” gojo blurts out, like it was killing him not to. “that’s just what y/n asks me when i have a nightmare.”

“you have nightmares?”

gojo is running his hands through his hair, looking like he’s about to go on a tangent. but when megumi asks his question, gojo pauses. he gives megumi a look. “doesn’t everyone?”

megumi scowls. “i don’t know.”

“huh. well, i have them. sometimes.”

“and you tell y/n?”

gojo snorts, shaking his head. “there’s no telling y/n anything. she just—“

“knows.”

gojo nods, giving megumi a small wink that makes the little boy want to throw up.

“so…” gojo taps his fingers on the couch. “do you want to talk about it?”

“why would i want to talk about it with you?”

“well you came out into the living room looking all… surly.”

“surly?” megumi repeats, with a face.

“down. upset. sad.”

“i’m not sad.”

“people who aren’t sad don’t need to deny that they’re sad.”

“y/n isn’t here,” megumi says, shaking his head. “i could hit you and be fine.”

gojo laughs, again, relaxing once more. because the man cannot be serious for any longer than three minutes. it’s biologically impossible. “i’d like to see you try,” he whispers, and it’s just enough.

megumi falls asleep on the couch that night. he spends another half hour arguing with gojo about whatever he says—forgetting about his dream, the reason for coming into the living room in the first place.

and when you get home, you open the door to the sight of two boys, both drooling.

megumi has his head pressed against satoru’s shoulder, hair smushed against his face. satoru is crossing his arms, face tilted towards the ceiling as he snores.

…it’s pretty obvious what happens next.

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