#megumi: “shut up” *does it*

[shookuna]

yuuji would make megumi play fortnite with the UGLIEST skins on 💀 and megumi wouldn't even bat an eye. he would just be like "ok." and proceed to gun someone down looking like the damn nutcracker

(also yuuji definitely doesn't know how to build for shit. megumi's sat there sighing building ramp after ramp only for yuuji to destroy them on accident)

also, super smash bros?! yes and yes. both of them are good players in their own right, but when they team up? nobody stands a chance. (cue nobara weeping when her jigglypuff gets sent flying off the map by megumi's falco. all while yuuji as toon link or mr. game and watch stands at the edge of the map button smashing. OOH WAIT ACTUALLY YUUJI MAKES MEGUMI BE META KNIGHT SO HE CAN BE KIRBY AND THEY MATCHHHH)

ITAFUSHI THOUGHT NO. 7 i think they're like duos in every single game whenever theres a multiplayer game they will duo eachother no matter what

[daughterhouse]

laying in bed with megumi, your head resting on his chest as you watch him scroll through his phone. every now and then he will scroll past a video he wants to watch and you'll bug him until he scrolls back up so you can see it—mostly all the cat videos that he gets on his explore page now that you're always sending them to him.

but he keeps shifting, almost like he's uncomfortable. and because you don't want to hurt him with your weight on top of him, when he shifts for the fifth time in less than ten minutes, you pop your chin up on his chest and look at him.

"am i too heavy?" you ask, and megumi furrows his eyebrows.

"what? no."

"you keep moving. are you uncomfy? is it because of—"

megumi shuts you up with the roll of his eyes. his jaw ticks in the way it does when he's biting his words back, and he looks up at the roof. with each breath he takes, you can feel his heart thrum in his chest just a little bit faster.

"i just... like being close to you, is all. and i don't know how to ask for what i want."

you prop yourself up a little and swing your leg over megumi to straddle his waist. his hands instinctively find your waist, and you're brushing his spiky hair up and off his forehead before pressing a gentle kiss to it.

"wha—"

"that's what you want, right?" you wiggle your eyebrows, peppering kisses over his cheeks, nose, jaw, chin... "to be kissed so much you can't breathe!"

you attack megumi with so many kisses that his attempts to push you off him become futile, and he's left to scrunch up his nose and take the brunt of your desire to smooch. he grumbles, acts like he was going to ask to go get food or something, but you catch the way his cheeks flush and he starts to laugh alongside you.

you really need to teach that boy how to ask for a kiss.

[nanamiskentos]

MAMA, A DIVA BEHIND YOU! — toji fushiguro sfw!

prologue. → toji loves his son, he really does. unfortunately, young megumi is less than receptive when it comes to toji's efforts to impress the pretty neighbour who just moved into the apartment down the hall.

or five times megumi actively made toji's love life worse. and the one time he actually helped.

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader

warnings. megumi is his own warning. mild age gap implied. non sorcerer au, toji is raising megumi on his own. reader has she/her pronouns. nothing else, just shenanigans :) toji gets knocked down a few pegs by his son 😭 mildly ooc toji <3

word count. song inspiration. paper rings — taylor swift

a/n. this is sooo silly and for fun lol 😭 i feel like you can tell this just isn't my genre or writing style 😭

mp3. i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings <3

TOJI FUSHIGURO didn't have a lot of treasures in life. he just wasn't that type of guy. treasures were for people with their lives together — the kind who budgeted for organic vegetables and owned matching socks. toji's list of prized possessions was short: a semi-reliable pay check, a fridge that kept his beer cold on a good day, and the one channel that aired late-night baseball games.

oh, and his kid. megumi fushiguro.

the little brat was the one thing in toji's life he could call a blessing without choking on the word. but lately? toji was seriously considering the logistics of international shipping. could you send a five year old punk to siberia? where was the paperwork for that?

everything had been fine. hell, downright manageable. until you moved in down the hall.

at first, toji didn't give a fuck. neighbours were usually either noisy or nosy, and sometimes the tragic combination of both. the last guy had banged on his door at least once a week, yelling about toji's late-night weightlifting sessions and muttering something about 'quiet hours.'

toji had pegged you for the same. maybe with a yoga met and too many scented candles.

but then, you showed up on his doorstep with a kind smile that could probably light up half the districts in the city. and a polite, sweet, "excuse me, but could you help me with my bed frame?"

and that was it.

the universe must've been real bored, because that was the moment it decided that toji fushiguro — self proclaimed expert on not giving a damn, was going to lose his damn mind like cupid has struck him with the painful arrows of a crush. and he was a goner.

take #1 — my neck, my back

spring in tokyo had come into full bloom, the kind of day where the air smelled faintly of sunshine, and the cherry blossoms drifted around like lazy, little freeloaders. below the apartment complex, the park wasn't much to write home about — a scrappy patch of grass, a couple of benches that looked like they'd seen some shit, and a swing set that squeaked like it had a vendetta against joy.

but for toji? it was good enough.

he'd figured this 'let me show you around because i'm so friendly' outing would be low effort. easy. casual and neighbourly, even. except now, he was leaning against a tree which was far harder than it sounded when his lower back was screaming at him louder than megumi had this morning about brushing his teeth.

but you stood nearby, smiling that damn warm and disarming smile of yours, gently plucking a stray blossom from megumi's messy hair. the kid, for his part, was pointedly ignoring you both, kicking rocks with the type of dedication usually reserved for a brat trying to avoid his homework.

toji cleared his throat, "so, uh, the area's not bad. quiet most of the time. that convenience store over there's open late. great for snacks. or milk. y'know, the owner's a bit of a bitc —"

"why are you standing like that?"

megumi's voice cut through his rehearsed tour like a rusty knife.

toji shot him a sharp glance. a look that screamed: keep your mouth shut, kid.

megumi just tilted his head, all faux innocence, and then delivered the killing blow with those sea-green eyes gleaming in what toji was certain was pure maliciousness, "dad, your back hurts again, doesn’t it?"

toji froze, scrambling for damage control, but you were already pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh. trying. but he could see the corners of your mouth twitching.

"back's fine," toji huffed, straightening up too fast. something in his spine must have popped loud enough to startle a crow off a branch, "solid a rock, hah! good as new."

megumi glanced at his scuffed sneakers, and then back up, "you said it was hard getting off the couch this morning. didn't you say you're old now and falling apart?"

toji's entire soul left his body. the punk was a traitor to a family name. he should have just sent megumi back to the clan long ago.

"don't you have a rock to kick?" he hissed.

"already did all that."

and that was it. your laugh finally burst out, bright and loud, ringing through the little patch of a park. toji found himself staring at you like some idiot in a rom-com who’d just realised he was completely doomed.

"kids, huh?" he muttered, throwing megumi a glare that promised revenge.

"kids," you agreed, eyes still sparkling as you excused yourself, something about leaving a pot on the stove. you gave toji one last look as you turned to go, warm and soft with that lingering amusement.

toji leaned back against the tree once you were gone, letting out a long sigh. megumi was still standing there, kicking the same patch of dirt, as though he were trying to discover unseen archaeological wonders underneath the earth.

"you're lucky i don’t sell you to a circus," toji grumbled under his breath.

megumi didn’t even look up, "you wouldn’t get that much for me."

smart-ass kid.

take #2 — the liar's pants are blazing on fire

walking someone home shouldn't have felt like scaling mount fuji, but toji fushiguro was now sweating bullet. the evening was crisp, the air cool enough to keep him from outright drowning in these stupid nerves, but it helped little.

the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting a faint yellow glow over the neighbourhood. nothing fancy — just rows of small apartments with laundry dangling off balconies and the occasional stray cat darting under parked car. it wasn't exactly romantic, but in the soft glow of the spring, it didn't look that bad.

you walked besides him, laughing at some half-assed joke he'd cracked earlier. and damn, toji liked that sound. more than he should've. more than he'd admit to anyone, including himself. now though, the silence had crept back in, and he was left psyching himself up for the move.

just hold her hand, his brain hissed, it's not rocket science. come on, man. no! wait, give her a compliment, call her hot. ugh, idiot. don't say that yet -

his thick fingers flexed awkwardly at this side as he tried to look natural. a valiant losing battle when every nerve in his body screamed, you have one job, fushiguro. don't ruin this.

"dad!"

toji's head snapped up like a startled animal, and there he was. megumi. his kid. his little shadow. gasping, clutching his throat, and staggering toward them like a samurai dying in glorious battle.

"dad! i — i can't breathe!" megumi wheezed, voice raspy as he doubled over in dramatic agony.

toji blinked. what the —

"i think i'm dying!" megumi croaked, collapsing onto the sidewalk with all the subtlety of a boulder tumbling down a hill.

toji sighed, already pinching the bridge of his nose. should’ve known. thid kid had been hanging around that white-haired freak downstairs too much. what had that gojo satoru been teaching him? shakespearean death monologues?

"what is it this time?" toji asked flatly, his voice like gravel.

"maybe, maybe it's the peanuts!" megumi sputtered, clutching his chest now, because why not? "the ones i ate at home! i think i'm allergic!"

toji stared at him, unimpressed. this was the same kid who could inhale salted peanuts by the handful, barely pausing for air, like he was training for some bizarre snack-eating championship.

"you're not allergic," toji deadpanned.

"i think i am!" megumi wheezed, dropping to his knees, his little hands shaking dramatically.

"oh my god!" you gasped, wide-eyed. "should we — i mean, do we need to take him to the hospital? i can drive —"

toji waved a rough hand, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, "nah, kid’s fine. just go on home. i'll handle this."

"but —"

"it's fine," toji insisted, forcing what he hoped was a reassuring smile, even as megumi collapsed onto the pavement like he’d been struck by lightning.

you had hesitated, clearly torn, but eventually nodded, "okay… but call me if you need anything, okay?"

toji nodded, biting back the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. "yeah, yeah. go on."

the second you turned the corner, toji crouched next to his "dying" son, who immediately cracked one eye open and coughed weakly for good measure.

"what the hell was that?" toji grunted, "what did i say about huffing gasoline in the laundry?"

"don't do it."

toji flicked the punk's forehead, "mhm, so?"

megumi shrugged, sitting up and dusting off his pants. "thought i was allergic."

"to peanuts? that shit you eat everyday?"

"better safe than sorry, dad."

toji huffed, ruffling a hand through his choppy black hair. he glanced in the direction you’d gone, muttering under his breath, "you're lucky you’re cute, kid."

the next morning, toji opened his door to find a basket sitting on the mat. a pristine, gingham-lined basket packed with golden, buttery pastries and muffins that smelled like heaven. attached was a note:

for megumi! i hope he’s feeling better!

karmic justice demanded that toji sit down, scarf it entirely, and leave nothing but crumbs for the little brat. he'd earned that much.

take #3 — they didn't get my nose right!

toji fushiguro didn’t get flustered easily. fights? He could eat a punch for breakfast. bills? well, avoidance was a valid financial strategy. but you, sitting on his couch, smiling at him like you’d never met a red flag you didn’t want to rehabilitate, while unpacking groceries for him and megumi? that was uncharted territory.

terrifying.

the apartment was...presentable. which was more than he could say ten minutes before you arrived, when he'd barked at megumi like a drill sergeant to hide every suspicious stain and questionable stack of dishes. now, the faint sting of cleaning spray lingered in the air, and the tiny place almost looked cozy. not that toji would admit it.

"you didn’t have to bring anything," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"oh, it's no trouble!" you chirped, beaming like some kind of saint. "i thought you and megumi might like some fresh vegetables. and i couldn’t resist grabbing some sweets for him."

from the corner of the room, megumi's ears perked up at sweets. he dropped the crayon he’d been chewing (toji pretended not to see it) and padded over, all innocent wide eyes and suspiciously good behaviour.

"dad," megumi started, his tone way too angelic for a kid who regularly schemed like a demonic manga villain, “can i show her my drawing?"

toji utterly froze.

megumi never asked to show off his drawings. usually, he just thrust them into unsuspecting hands like a nosy salesman who couldn't take no for an answer. this? this was premeditated.

"uh," toji grunted, squinting at the kid. "maybe later. she’s busy."

but you, bless your overly trusting heart, smiled and said, "oh, i'd love to see it! i'm sure it's adorable."

toji didn’t even have time to stop him. megumi whipped out a crumpled paper from his pocket like he was smuggling state secrets and handed it to you with an air of triumph.

you unfolded it carefully, and toji wanted to crawl into the walls.

there it was: a chaotic, technicolor mess of lines and smudges.

and centre stage?

a terrifyingly accurate caricature of him labeled "dad," locked in what could only be described as a life-or-death struggle with a rabid raccoon twice his size. above his head, a speech bubble screamed, "no!" while the raccoon yelled back, "mine!"

toji groaned so loud it could’ve registered on the richter scale, "kid. seriously?"

your laughter was instant and loud, the kind that made you clutch your sides and tear up. "this — oh my god, this is amazing!" you wheezed, doubling over.

"it’s not even accurate," toji muttered, crossing his arms, his biceps straining against his shirt like they were trying to leave this embarrassing moment behind. "i won."

"dad didn’t win," megumi piped up, as smug as a kid who’d just blown up his old man’s spot in front of a pretty lady, "the raccoon stole the chips."

"megumi," toji growled, pinning him with a glare that would’ve made lesser beings tremble. the kid just shrugged, popping another crayon into his mouth like this was all part of his five-year master plan.

later, after you’d left, still giggling and promising to "treasure" the drawing, toji leaned over the kitchen table where megumi was innocently snacking on his candy.

'kid," toji said, his voice low and dangerous, "if you ever pull something like that again, i’ll eat your crayons. one by one. and i'll make you watch."

megumi didn’t even flinch, cool as a cucumber, "good luck. i hid all the good ones."

take #4 — take your broke ass home!

the neighborhood festival was the kind of event that came together with duct tape and misplaced enthusiasm. a few janky game booths, a cotton candy machine that looked like it ran on prayers, and a ferris wheel that creaked like it was auditioning for a horror movie. but toji didn’t mind. he had a plan.

this was going to be his moment.

he invited you under the pretense of "fun time" for megumi, but really, it was to show you what a catch he was. buff, capable, ruggedly charming — he was ready to prove it all. what better way than with a little festival bravado? he’d win you a giant stuffed panda or one of those oversized bears that could double as a couch. easy.

you and megumi stood by a booth plastered with painted bullseyes, rows of rubber balls stacked neatly on the counter. toji rolled up his sleeves, flexing his arms just enough to catch your attention. he reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of crumpled cash like he was buying the entire festival, "watch this."

from beside him, megumi crossed his arms. his eyes squinted with the kind of judgment only an six-year-old could muster. then, like a sniper, he fired off the line that would ruin toji's day.

"careful, dad," megumi said, voice loud enough to turn a few heads. "that’s our grocery money for the week."

toji froze mid-reach for the first ball and his jaw clenched. slowly, painfully, he turned to face megumi, who was standing there with a look of angelic smugness.

"megumi," toji growled through gritted teeth, "let's remember who brought you here."

megumi didn’t miss a beat, "oh, right. i'm just worried that dinner tomorrow is soy sauce soup."

"kid’s got jokes," toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, his cocky energy now entirely replaced by something closer to "please make this stop."

"oh, i don’t think he’s joking," you teased, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from laughing too hard.

"yeah, definitely not joking," megumi deadpanned, "dad’s gonna start eating protein powder straight from the jar."

"megumi," toji barked, praying for divine intervention that would include his son being carried off by a stork, "you’re grounded."

"for what? telling the truth?"

before toji could escalate into full-on dad-mode, the game attendant — clearly desperate to avoid whatever domestic drama was brewing, handed toji a stuffed panda.

"here, sir, on the house," he said with a strained smile, like he was hoping toji wouldn’t throw a ball through the booth.

toji grabbed the panda and shoved it into your hands with all the grace of a man trying to save face, "here. told you i'd win ya something."

you had just hugged the panda, still grinning ear to ear, "who knew you had a sweet spot? i'll cherish it forever, especially after hearing how hard you worked for it."

megumi, the little bastard, had already wandered off to scope out the cotton candy stand.

toji watched him go, then glanced at you, feeling oddly resigned, "i’m never bringing him to one of these again."

"oh, come on," you said, nudging him playfully, "i'm glad we came. this was fun. besides, he's a sweet kid."

he wondered if you were half-blind, but held his tongue. instead toji groaned, rubbing his temples, 'kid’s not eating for a week."

take #5 — brought the heat back!

it was a quiet thursday evening, the kind of night that lured people into thinking life wasn’t a complete dumpster fire. the sky was fading into a smug sort of pink, and a light breeze was making it just nice enough to forget toji's apartment was a little too warm because he’d cheaped out on air conditioning.

you’d accepted his invitation for dinner, and now here he was, a grown man trying to pretend he wasn’t about to impress the hell out of you with his cooking.

see, toji wasn’t just some dude who could barely boil water. nah, this man knew his way around the kitchen — specifically around a bowl of spicy curry that could win hearts. but he couldn’t let you know that.

toji liked to think that he had a reputation to uphold: rough around the edges, dangerously hot, and way too casual about everything.

so when you walked in, he scratched the back of his head like he’d just thrown the recipe together from a vague memory, muttering, "i dunno, figured i'd try somethin’ new. if it’s bad, there’s takeout."

except this wasn’t new. toji knew exactly what he was doing. his curry was legendary in very specific circles — namely, his own ego.

meanwhile, megumi was hanging around the kitchen like a suspicious little gargoyle, all quiet and sneaky-eyed. that should’ve been the first warning sign.

and when dinner was served, toji had to admit it, it looked perfect. rich, golden curry with just the right balance of spice, heat curling off the plates like a victory lap. hah, an easy win.

you had taken a polite bite, smiling at first. until your face suddenly froze like you'd just been slapped by a fire demon.

"what, it's too spicy?" toji asked, as he watched you struggle to smile. your lips twitching like they were trying to run away.

"no, no!" you wheezed, "it's — it's really good. just got a lil' kick to it, that's all!"

kick? toji blinked. you looked as though you had been delivering a roundhouse to the face.

suspicious now, he scooped up a big bite himself. the moment it hit his tongue, he nearly choked. his sinuses exploded, his tongue went numb, and he could feel sweat instantly forming on his brow.

"what the fuck," he sputtered, slamming down his fork and lunging for his water. toji guzzled it like a man who’d just escaped a desert, while you valiantly kept nibbling as though your dignity depended on it.

megumi, sitting way too calmly at the table, didn’t even flinch. he was eating like the curry was perfectly fine, which made it even worse. this little freak.

toji squinted at his only child, "megumi. what did you do?"

"nothing," the kid said, wide-eyed and dripping with fake innocence. too fake, tsk, toji knew that look. "just...helped with the seasoning."

toji’s stomach dropped, as his blood pressure rose, "how much seasoning?"

megumi shrugged, stabbing at his rice like he wasn’t actively committing a felony, "i dunno. a lot. jus' wanted to be helpful, dad."

"y'trying to kill me? her? yourself?!"

you laughed nervously through the pain, "ah, toji. it’s really not that bad —"

"don’t lie, doll" toji snapped, shooting you a look, "sweatin' like you ran a marathon."

"so are you!" you shot back, snickering. and you weren’t wrong. toji's forehead looked like he’d just finished a full-body workout.

megumi leaned back in his chair, chewing slowly, and said with an infuriating amount of smugness, "i like spicy food."

toji pointed at him, wondering if it would be easier to pick up the kid and launch him out the window, "you better start liking ramen, ‘cause that’s all you’re eating for the next week."

"fine with that," megumi said, clearly unbothered, "isn't that what i eat all the time anyway?”

toji groaned, dragging a hand through his messy hair, which now stuck to his forehead in sweaty, choppy strands.hHe turned to you, desperate for some kind of redemption. "this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. it’s normally amazing. i swear."

"it’s fine," you laughed, even as you sipped water like your life depended on it. "honestly, i think it’s kinda cute."

that threw him for a loop. "cute? what’s cute about this? i just served you a bowl of liquid hell."

you grinned, a little too amused for his liking. "it’s the effort."

toji, for once in his life, had no comeback. he just sighed, defeated, and grabbed his phone to order takeout. megumi, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself, even lifting the bowl to his lips to smack away the remnants of the soup that he slurped.

interlude: the peace talks

you’re standing outside toji's dingy apartment building, where even the cracks in the walls look like they’ve seen some things. you’re not entirely sure why you’re here. okay, that’s a lie. you’re absolutely sure— it’s because of him. that rough-edged, broad-shouldered man who can bench press your common sense into oblivion. but of course, you’re telling yourself it’s "just to check in."

totally innocent.

you knock. a few beats of silence, then the door creaks open just wide enough for a face to peek out. it's megumi fushiguro, toji's odd kid, and his expression already screams ugh. the kind of look that says, "what does this clown want?"

"uh, hi," you say, suddenly unsure if you’re allowed to be nervous around a first grader, "is toji here?"

megumi stares at you like you just asked if the sky was plaid, "nope," he says flatly, but doesn’t move. he keeps the door partially open, like he’s either waiting for you to leave or deciding if you’re even worth his time.

"oh. okay, that's fine, i'll just —" you motion vaguely toward the stairs, already regretting this whole situation. but then the kid speaks up.

"why do you wanna see him?" his tone is casual, but his eyes? sharp like sea-glass. too sharp for someone so young. he’s leaning on the doorframe now.

you blink, mind going blank.

"i don’t...i mean, i was just dropping by to say hi. that’s all."

megumi tilts his head, scrutinising you like you’re a suspect in a crime only he knows about, "do you like my dad?"

you choke on what must be your last breath on this earth, "what?! no! i mean, what are you even saying, he's..."

you’re spiralling, and megumi's smug little smirk says he knows it. He’s enjoying this way too much.

"sure," he says with a shrug, stepping back into the apartment. he leaves the door wide open like it’s an invitation — or maybe a saw trap. against your better judgment, you follow him in.

megumi plops down on the couch, picking up a laptop like you’re not even there, "you’re not the first," he mutters without looking up.

"what’s that supposed to mean?" you ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

he shrugs again, still not meeting your gaze, "just saying, dad’s got... fans." he says it with the kind of disdain only a kid can muster when talking about their parent, "but you’re, like... different."

"different how?" you ask, instantly regretting it. you shouldn’t engage. this is toji's kid, not your personal gossip columnist.

megumi finally looks up, one eyebrow raised, "you don’t seem as dumb as the other ones."

wow. compliment of the century. "that's way harsh. but thanks," you say dryly, crossing your arms. "and here i thought we were bonding."

there’s a flicker of something else in the child's eyes. a glimmer of protectiveness, maybe, "look, i'm just saying...don’t get your hopes up, okay? i don't think my dad's that type of guy."

you frown, perplexed at having this conversation with a child who barely comes up past your waist, "what makes you say that?"

megumi looks like he’s about to launch into a powerpoint presentation on why toji fushiguro Is a walking red flag, but then he stops. his petulant expression shifts, softens, just a little, "i don't anyone to be sad."

and there it is. the kid act drops for a split second, and you see it. he’s not just being a little punk — he's protecting himself. maybe he’s seen toji screw up one too many times, or maybe he’s tired of people coming and going from their lives. either way, you feel a pang of sympathy.

you sit down on the edge of the couch, careful not to invade his space, "i get it,” you say gently, "and i appreciate you looking out for me, and for your father. but...maybe your dad’s not as bad as you think."

megumi snorts, "yeah, right. i think he's a mess."

"well, sometimes messy people need someone to believe in them," you say, surprising even yourself with the honesty in your voice.

he doesn’t respond right away, just stares at the laptop screen like it holds the answers to life. finally, he sighs, closing it with a decisive snap.

"fine. you can...hang out with him. or whatever. i won't pull any dumb shit,” megumi suddenly pauses at the slip of his tongue, “wait, don't tell him i said that word. but if this screws up, i'm saying ‘I told you so."

he sounds like he’s just agreed to let you borrow his favourite video game.

you smile, relieved, "deal."

just then, the front door opens, and in walks toji, all feathery raven hair, sweat-slicked muscles, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder like he’s just conquered a small country. he pauses when he sees you, eyebrows raising in surprise. "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, voice rough but warm.

before you can respond, megumi pipes up from the couch, "we had important business."

megumi watches you leave, your footsteps echoing down the hallway. you turn back once, smiling at toji like he’s just said something funny — or maybe like he’s not completely hopeless. his dad stands in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically relaxed, a satisfied smirk on his face that makes megumi's stomach churn.

how disgusting.

the second the door clicks shut, toji sighs like some kind of romantic hero from the bad drama his dad loves to secretly watch, running a hand through his choppy black hair and scratching at the back of his neck.

"isn't she cute?" coming from a guy who once tried to flirt with a waitress by asking her how many push-ups she thought he could do.

toji disappears into his room, leaving young, burdened megumi stranded on the couch with his thoughts. his dad — the six-foot-four slab of muscle and bad decisions who calls protein shakes "wizard juice" — is clearly falling for you. and honestly? megumi doesn’t hate the idea. you’re nice. you don’t talk down to him like other adults, and you don’t smell like motor oil and regret like toji's usual crowd.

but toji? his dad couldn’t woo a cactus. if this is going to happen, megumi's going to have to step in. it's the responsible thing to do.

he grabs his laptop again, boots it up, and clicks on the email icon with all the gravitas of a general preparing for war.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: hey gojo i need help message: hey gojo i need help.

he hits send, satisfied. within ten minutes, there’s a reply. gojo's always on his computer nowadays, swamped by senior finals.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: hey gojo i need help message: why are u emailing me. i feel weird emailing a six year old.

megumi rolls his eyes. he’s six, not stupid. he definitely thinks he's smarter than gojo satoru.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: i think my dad has a crush.

there’s a pause. megumi imagines goji sitting in his weirdly pristine apartment downstairs, wearing those stupid sunglasses he insists are cool, trying to process what he just read.

the reply comes in two words.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: come downstairs.

then another one.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: let’s debrief. i got cookies.

megumi shuts his laptop, slides off the couch, and heads for the door. it's time someone with real intelligence got involved.

megumi fushiguro sits at the kitchen table, eating rainbow cereal and trying to ignore the way his dad is pacing the room like a stressed-out gorilla. toji fushiguro, a walking, grunting tank of a man, is mumbling under his breath about "women" and "bad timing" and something about his shirt being "too tight." not that his dad has any normal shirts — just those stupid gym shirts.

megumi, as the only person in this house with half a brain cell, knows exactly what’s going on. his dad's got it bad for you.

not that he thinks that his dad would admit it. no, his dad's strategy for dealing with his obvious feelings is to act like a complete idiot whenever you’re around. last time, he dropped a dumbbell on himself while trying to show off. the time before that, he laughed so hard at one of your jokes he spat coffee everywhere. megumi had to clean it up.

so yeah, his dad was hopeless, and apparently, it’s megumi's job to fix it.

but megumi doesn’t think of himself as a matchmaker. he thinks of himself as a tortured genius, forced to live among lesser idiots. and frankly, he doesn’t even like the idea of his dad dating. because that's gross.

but the truth is, megumi's tired of toji stomping around the apartment like a lovesick rhino, and if getting you and his dad together means toji might finally stop asking megumi if his hair looks "cool," then so be it.

he starts small. when you knock on the door that afternoon, megumi answers and blocks the entrance like a bouncer, just like gojo told him to.

"oh, dad's not here again," he says, casual.

your face falls, and megumi immediately clocks it. bingo.

"you're in luck today, lady. wait here," he interrupts, darting inside, "i'll grab him."

except his dad is in there, muttering something about a broken pipe in the kitchen, while tapping furiously on his phone. megumi marches in, hands on his hips.

"i let her in," he announces, like a town crier.

his dad looks up, like a deer caught in the headlights of his own stupidity, "what? why didn’t you tell me? damn punk," he scrambles for a shirt.

"i'm telling you now, dad," megumi says, dully, "also, you’re acting like a weirdo. just go talk to her. ask her out."

toji freezes, halfway into his shirt, "what's gotten into you, kid? gonna drop a knife on me, huh? what am i supposed to say?"

megumi resists the urge to roll his eyes so hard they fall out of his head, "i don't know. say hi to her. maybe don't mention the gym."

his dad frowns, "you're six, punk. what do you know? people like hearing about that shit."

"not normal people."

once toji is finally presentable — or as presentable as a man with permanent bedhead and a scar on his lip can be — megumi ushers him out of the room. then, like the misunderstood mastermind he is, megumi follows quietly, lurking behind the door to eavesdrop.

toji opens the door to find you standing there, fiddling with the strap of your bag. his usual dumb smirk creeps onto his face, "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, leaning on the doorframe like he thinks he’s starring in a cologne commercial.

"yeah, i was just...in the neighborhood," you say, sounding way too nervous for someone who claims this is a casual visit.

megumi winces. they’re hopeless. this is your neighbourhood, too.

toji scratches the back of his neck, a nervous tick Megumi’s only seen when he’s trying not to embarrass himself, "well, uh, you wanna come in? i was just... doing some cleaning. we can...talk, or some shit like that."

megumi knows for a fact that there's a lie in toji's words. the only cleaning his dad's ever done is shoving everything into the closet and calling it "organised."

but somehow, it works. you step inside, smiling at him like he just offered you free ice cream. now, that would be a decent offer.

from his spot behind the door, megumi mentally pats himself on the back. phase one: complete. he decides to clock out, flopping back on his rumpled bed to pull his laptop back out, immediately logging back onto his game.

but by the time you leave an hour later, toji looks like he just won the lottery. you’re smiling too, waving awkwardly before heading down the stairs. and ugh, gross! you lean in and press a soft kiss to toji's cheek before you turn.

as soon as the door shuts, toji leans against it and lets out the most ridiculous sigh megumi has ever heard.

"hah, kid. she likes me," his dad says, grinning like a lovesick idiot.

megumi, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, crosses his arms, "that's foul. but no thanks to you."

his dad opens one sharp green eye at him, and scowls. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"it means," megumi says, feeling a lifetime of bribery for ice-cream excite him, "you owe me. big time."

toji’s standing in the doorway, looking at megumi like he just asked him to join some cult. he scratches the back of his head, giving megumi that look — like he’s trying to figure out what the hell his kid is up to now.

"eh, you look weird today," toji mutters, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. he reaches down and ruffles megumi’s hair like it’s no big deal, making it stick up even more. his hair gets all spiky and untamable, and megumi scowls, smoothing it down, trying (and failing) to get his dark spikes to behave.

"yeah, whatever, dad," megumi mutters under his breath as toji turns and saunters off into his room. toji’s probably about to do a hundred push-ups and gloat to himself. megumi can already hear the dumb grunting from the other room.

as soon as toji’s gone, megumi sits back down at the table, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

for once, the apartment is quiet. no random phone calls, no weird people showing up, no random training sessions that sound more like a one-man wrecking crew than “exercise.” just peace.

it’s bliss.

he takes another bite of cereal, enjoying the calm and the fact that someone else is going to have to deal with toji’s nonsense for once. it’s about time.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: mission accomplished message: it worked. my dad's in love.

a few seconds later, gojo’s reply pops up.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: mission accomplished message: that's great! wanna help me with the guy i like?

megumi squints at the screen, blinking twice. he closes his laptop with all the gravity of someone who has just solved world peace.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: re: re: mission accomplished message: no.

[reiyaus]

fem reader intended

fiancé gojo who shocked the jujutsu higher ups when he revealed his engagement to you, a grade 1 sorceress with no relation to any big 3 clans. imagine their surprise when he decides to get married out of love and not just to create a heir.

fiancé gojo who teaches with you at jujutsu high and is the reason why you can barely arrive to classes on time. with his pouty face and insanely toned biceps trapping you in his hold, who are you to say no?

fiancé gojo who whines when you actually leave him to teach your students, feigning offence when megumi shoots him a disgusted glare.

fiancé gojo who often joins in on your lessons when he starts feeling lonely, acting as if he were your actual student. your annoyingly smart A+ student who does nothing but brag about his intelligence.

fiancé gojo who likes to text you and send silly voice messages no matter the situation. picture satoru replaying his minute-long burp vm in front of the jujutsu higher ups so that he makes sure you can laugh at it (spoiler: all you feel is disappointment).

fiancé gojo who thinks it’s absolutely hilarious to flaunt his engagement and watch the irritation on their faces turn into pure horror. because for gojo, flaunting means interrupting you mid-sentence to practically make out for a minute straight.

fiancé gojo who asks everyday, “should we have our wedding now?” and sighs dramatically when you tell him to be patient. not that he’s actually mad, though. he likes the giddyness he feels while counting down to your wedding date.

fiancé gojo who drowns you in affection and praise after every mission, crying his heart out (jokingly) about how he felt like an abandoned princess waiting for her prince to come back from war.

fiancé gojo who, deep down, thanks the skies above that you get to come home safely everytime. and while he’s a jokester, all the ‘missing you’ parts in his sob stories were true. because while he knew you were strong, the lingering worry of you running into something way stronger bit his ass everytime.

fiancé gojo who indulges himself in your warmth, ignoring every single notification his phone pings out.

fiancé gojo who has a hold on you so secure, even during sleep, that you have to wake him up before he presses on your bladder any further. now you have to deal with his complaints of “do you not love me anymore? Is that why you let go? you’re so mean!”

fiancé gojo who shuts up when you offer to wash his greasy hair, immediately situating himself in front of you and leaning into every single touch you place on his head.

fiancé gojo who ends up getting you wet and makes a stupid excuse so that you can bathe together. no matter how difficult, the feeling of your skin against his was enough to get him through the day.

fiancé gojo who settles your back on his chest, lifting your arm to trace “satoru 🤍 [name] 4eva”. what a cutie.

fiancé gojo who genuinely can’t wait until he sees you walk down the aisle, exchange the vows he’s been working on since you first met, shamelessly give you the most passionate kiss ever (in front everyone you know and love), and officially get the privilege of calling you his wifey.

[sttoru]

⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. a relaxing day at the beach w/ toji ‘n little megumi, accompanied by their usual bickering and precious moments

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. honestly just the beach episode toji deserves w his family t_t not proof read!

the beach is a beautiful place to rest after a tough week. toji lays on the towel besides yours, bulky arms resting behind his head as he enjoyed the gentle breeze, the smell of the sea mixed with his wife’s perfume.

the peace is quickly disturbed when he feels a small fist claw at his mouth.

“‘gumi, don’t feed papa sand,” your muffled laughter echoes through the busy beach. you watch your husband attempt to fight off megumi’s tiny hands as they pry his lips apart.

toji grunts and moves his head multiple times, but the toddler is determined to get what he wants. “brat—” the dark-haired man scoffs while his hands wrap around megumi’s torso, lifting the little boy in the air as his final resort, “what’s this all ‘bout? wanna kill y’r daddy or sum?”

your son pouts and furrows his brows. “no, i made papa food. burger,” he defends himself and kicks his legs while being held up at arms length. megumi’s tiny fist full of sand manages to reach his father’s lips again, “now papa eat!”

toji lifts megumi up higher, as far away from his face as possible. he takes a second before realising that he indeed had made a request for a burger just moments ago, when his son asked him what he should make out of the sand.

toji totally forgot to play along with megumi’s pretend restaurant game, thinking the boy would halfway forget about it anyway. children’s attention spans are short after all.

seems like his kid is an exception.

“i ain’t eatin’ shit, boy,” toji grunts and turns megumi away, putting the boy back down in the sand between the two beach towels. you’re about to reprimand your husband for his behaviour before your child interrupts.

“this not poo poo!” megumi jabs a finger at his father’s chest, his voice a bit louder. he’s taken great offence to the comment about his imaginary burger, which was now but a cluster of sand particles.

toji snorts and gently flicks megumi’s hand away, “yeah, it is. bet it tastes like ‘poo poo’ too.”

“no! not poo poo!” megumi’s voice rings out before a frustrated whine leaves his lips. his little hands land on toji’s abs, physically punishing him for saying such mean stuff about his hard handiwork.

your husband sticks his tongue out childishly at his sulking son. “‘yes! yes ‘tis poo poo!’ keheh,” toji mocks megumi’s high voice, snorting as he laughs about his own joke afterwards.

the father-son duo bicker for a few more seconds before you sigh and speak up. “can you two just get along for once now? we’re in public, so behave,” you scold them as their voices seemed to get louder. you then glare at your immature husband. he could be such a man-child when it came to arguing with his son, “and you— you’re an adult, so act like one.”

the two of them instantly shut up and their heads turn towards you, their hands that were wrestling with each other also stopping mid-air. megumi pouts and stops attacking his father with his tiny fists. the little boy knows better than to not listen to his mother.

in turn, toji huffs and grumbles something under his breath before grabbing his son to make it up to him.

neither does the grown man dare to defy his wife’s demands.

“yeah, yeah. c’mere, son,” toji responds and places the toddler on his chest, letting the kid rest against him. megumi surprisingly doesn’t pull away and instead curls up in toji’s warm embrace. as much as the two love to (playfully) fight, they also get along extremely well.

you smile and relax back on the palms of your hands. “much better,” you hum in content. your heart swells with affection for your two favorite people on earth. megumi is a carbon copy of his father and it’s the cutest little thing ever.

they both have that subtle pout on their lips as they accommodate to being close and cozy with each other again.

toji runs his callused fingers through megumi’s hair, sighing as he closes his eyes. he doesn’t admit it out loud, but he cares for his kid. if he had to make a choice between either saving his own life or megumi’s, toji’d instantly draw his last breath.

“he’s still a brat,” your husband grumbles to you, sharp eyes watching the way you coddle and coo over the toddler. megumi’s chubby cheek is smushed against toji’s chest and it was an adorable sight. you giggle and capture it on your phone.

toji scoffs, but can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of his scarred lips. he gently rubs the child’s cheek with his knuckles before continuing, “but he’s my brat. ain’t that right, boy?”

megumi lets out a small, soft grunt at his father’s words. the kid is completely silent, content with the way things had played out. perhaps this is what he secretly searched for as well— to receive toji’s attention and a glimpse of his affection.

“aww, how cute!” your smile is beaming as you snap another picture of your family. toji’s soft look is perfectly captured on your phone, with him gently touching megumi’s chubby cheek as the boy laid on his bare chest. pure domestic bliss.

you sigh and look away for one second to change the lockscreen on your phone. humming, you go to your settings and instantly put the picture of your husband and son as your wallpaper on nearly everything.

you tilt your head back only to find toji grinning from ear to ear now, going from gently rubbing megumi’s cheek to full out squishing them between both his hands, amused at the way the fat moves. “kehehe, look at ‘em,” he chuckles.

the little toddler eventually gets fed up with it after squirming and grunting. megumi brings his little fist up—the same one that still had some sand stored from before—and lets the content fly all over toji’s face.

megumi giggles and scrambles off toji’s lap with a victorious grin. he points at his father who’s struggling with getting the sand off his face, the man sputtering and grumbling. he sticks his tongue out, “tha’s papa’s burger.”

you watch as your son waddles over to you and hides into your arms, muffled laughter echoing in your ears. seems like megumi won the battle in the end; successfully holding onto the sand he was planning to feed his dad one way or another.

toji spits out a bit of sand that flew into his mouth from the kid’s surprise attack, “you little shit—”

well, there goes the peace again. you shake your head, but let the two play and fight it out on their own.

. . . just another day in the fushiguro family.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Perhaps Toji should've listened to his wife about using sunscreen, but the man never listens.

Warnings: Minors do not interact! Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Public Sex, Creampie, Toji calls you 'princess'

*You might not get sunburnt but you still need sunscreen! Baddies protect themselves against skin cancer❤️

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

There’s a drawn out whistle behind you from none other than your husband. He watches as you slowly take off your dress and reveal the bikini that you chose to wear for your beach trip. You feel your face get warm, still not used to all the love and attention that he gives you whenever he sees your body. 

“Well, aren’t you going to get undressed?” You ask, a risky question considering how Toji is. You bite your tongue the moment the words leave your lips, knowing exactly how Toji is going to respond. You’re about to add more to it, but Toji beats you to it.

“You want to do it here? I’m not opposed to having an audience.” There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he responds, making you roll your eyes. He lets out a chuckle at your reaction before taking off his shirt. “It’s still a little crowded, princess. Wait till everyone leaves.”

“I’m not having sex with you at the beach.” You reply, taking your eyes off him as he shows off his well-toned body. If you could whistle, you’d have the same reaction as him. You add, “Wait till we get back to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that? We have a bed back at home.” He tells you, earning a light hearted slap on his shoulder. He loves to tease you out in public, saying just about anything to get a reaction out of you.

“Come here, let me put sunscreen on you.” You change the topic, wanting to talk about something more lighthearted for the scene.

“I don’t need sunscreen.” He answers, making you frown. He’ll ruin your trip by refusing sunscreen– By the end of the day his skin will be all red and burnt. If he goes wandering around with no sunscreen on then the trip is practically over.

“Toji, if you don’t come here–” You begin but he walks away before you can finish your sentence. Of course. Then he’ll come whining to you later about how his skin burns.

He talks about Megumi’s stubbornness, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

“Here.” Toji leans down and hands you a popsicle. You lift your eyes up from your book and notice his rosy cheeks. A couple of hours have passed, and granted, you were right. That’s why he comes to you with a peace offering. He’ll do anything but tell you that you were right.

“What’s this for?” You ask as you prompt yourself up from the comfortable lounge chair. Toji sits on the edge, and you notice how his shoulders and chest are red. You lick the top of the popsicle, tongue circling around it which draws Toji’s attention.

“Just saw the ice cream truck and thought you’d want one, nothing else.” He shrugs. “You know I swam all the way to– Ah, what are you doing?”

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” You tease him with the popsicle, tracing the cold treat on his collar bone. It does. It feels so nice but he wouldn’t say that to you, at least not now. He won’t prove you right.

“It feels weird.” He tries to push your hand away but it doesn’t work. Instead, your hand moves down and the popsicle goes down his chest. It’s just what he needs, but he won’t admit it. He definitely won’t do it when you’re acting so smug.

“Does it? You look relieved.” You point out with a smirk on your face. He absolutely won’t give you satisfaction now.

“Shut up and eat your popsicle before I take you behind that rock and show you what relief looks like.” His hand wraps around your wrist, and he guides it back to your lips but your lips form into a straight line. You turn your head, and the tip hits your cheek.

“I’m taking the popsicle as an admission that I was right!” You ask him, and he takes the treat back. He brings it up to his lips and takes a bite of it.

“Can’t your husband just be nice? Damn.” He’s irritated, but you’re right. The sunburns are too fresh, he won’t admit that he should’ve put on sunscreen before going swimming. 

“I know you.” You snatch the wooden stick from his hand once again, putting the popsicle on his shoulder. “Just admit that it feels nice. I know I’m right either way.”

“Fine. You’re right.” He says, his gaze going elsewhere because he knows there’s a smug smile on your face. He feels your warm, soft lips press a kiss on his shoulder, and he sighs. Maybe it isn’t all bad.

“Tastes like cherry.” You comment, making a low laugh leave his lips. He looks back at you, and presses a kiss on the top of your head.

“You know, the beach is almost empty if you–”

“I’m not having sex with you out here.” You cut him off, reading his mind. He clicks his tongue as he reaches into your beach bag. You notice that he grabs the sunscreen, making you comment, “It’s a little too late for that now.”

“It’s not for me, princess.” He responds, opening the bottle and squirting some of the cream on his hands. Before you can even question it, his hands go to your cleavage, “Isn’t it time to reapply?”

“Toji–” You begin, but he brings you to his lap, unable to escape from his grasp. “You’re a sly little fox.”

“Huh? I’m just making sure my wife is taken care of.” He says as he continues to massage your breasts under the pretext that he’s reapplying sunscreen. His fingers sneakily go under your bikini top, getting too close to your nipples.

“Toji, you’re playing it dangerously.” You warn him before you shove the rest of the popsicle in his mouth. He takes it out and tosses it aside.

“I like danger.” He tells you before his lips land on yours. You lick up the sweet cherry that remains on his lips before quickly pulling away. 

You look over Toji again. The way the water drips from his hair down to his body. The water streams down his rosy chest, all the way down to his V-line. He’ll make a sinner out of anyone, that’s for damn sure. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you… The beach is practically empty, who cares?

“I’m going to the water.” You respond, a look of mischief in your eyes. You get up from his lap and begin to walk to the water, a sight that makes Toji sigh. A beautiful sight, dare he say. A sight that makes his dick hard.

“Wait for me!” He yells, standing up and going after you. You’re not too far ahead, making it easy for him to catch up with you. He’s just planning on accompanying you, until he notices that you’re going to the giant rock that he mentioned earlier. Of course you are. “And you’re saying I’m sly?”

“What? I’m literally just going into the water.” You try to play all innocent, an act that he certainly won’t fall for. Maybe in the beginning he would’ve, but Toji knows you too well to know that you’re up to no good. “You have a dirty mind, Toji.”

“Right, I’m the one in the wrong here.” He scoffs. He wants to make a comment about how you’re not even in the water as you hide behind the rock, but he won’t play with his luck today.

“Are we out of everyone’s view here?” You ask, and Toji chuckles. So much for not having sex at the beach. His hands cup your face, lips going down to meet your own. Your hands go to the back of his head, pulling him closer as your back makes contact with the rock.

“You just had to play hard to get?” He pulls away for a second before his lips kiss yours again. One hand trails down your body, going to the bottom of your swimsuit. His fingers run through your folds, and it takes everything in him to not comment just how wet you already are for him. 

Toji loves to tease you, but he’ll play it safe considering the situation. He wouldn’t want you to back down now. Maybe when he’s got you all worked up and on the edge he’ll have his way with you.

“Don’t draw any attention to yourself, princess.” He warns you as he pulls away. He likes the risk, but he certainly doesn’t want to get caught. “You got that? Can you do it?”

“Yeah.” You nod, followed by a breathy moan that he tears from you by slowly pushing in two fingers. He smirks. Yeah, you were absolutely right about the sunscreen but he was right about where you’d end up today.

“Good girl.” He praises you, taking his fingers out just as quickly as he put them in. He pushes your swimsuit to the side, grabbing one of your legs and resting it on his hip. He’s all the balance you need right now. “Gonna make this quick, okay? Don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea and steal your book and shit.”

“Wait, my book–” You comment, that part completely forgotten from your mind. Though before the sentence is finished, you feel his tip run through your folds. “It can wait.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles before slowly pushing himself inside you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Toji stretches you out. The man doesn’t waste a second before moving, giving slow thrusts so your body isn’t overwhelmed.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He comments, keeping his voice low. Toji wouldn’t want to draw any attention to himself at this moment. He can’t come up with any possible excuse.

You’re biting down your lip, not trusting yourself to not be too loud. You want him to hear how good he’s making you feel. He always feels so good inside of you, hitting every right spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. But you’ll hold back.

He’s groaning. He’s succumbing to the pleasure your pussy is giving him. So tight and warm. So fucking perfect. His thrusts slowly pick up speed, the sound of skin smacking slowly getting louder

“Fuck, Toji–” You moan, your brain slowly working less and less. Your hand goes down to play with your clit, seeking more friction to reach your high. You can’t be gone for too long. The longer you’re here, the higher the risk of someone coming around.

“You want my cum, princess?” His lips go to your ear, and you nod in response. Every thrust just hits every right spot, making it hard for you to contain yourself. Your pussy is squeezing around him, your free hand gripping onto his shoulder. Your breath gets caught up in your chest, and you fully rely on him for balance. 

You moan loudly as you reach your orgasm, finishing around his cock. Toji bites your neck, a sort of punishment. Since he can’t make noise, he’ll suppress whatever noise with your body, and this time your neck is the poor victim.

“I need your cum, Toji.” You finally tell him as he slowly loses control. Maybe the excitement of being at the beach has caught up to him. The risk of getting caught certainly makes it more fun.

It doesn’t take too long for Toji to finish inside of you, making a complete mess out of you. A mess that he’ll wipe his hands from since he won’t have to walk around full of cum. 

His forehead presses against yours, delivering soft kisses to every part of your face before he finally pulls out of your cunt. He fixes the bottom of your swimsuit, and allows you to regain complete balance before letting you go.

“You ready for the walk of shame?” He finally gets to tease you, and you roll your eyes.

“Worry about yourself, shrimp.”

[inupibaldspot]

Walk him like a dog

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : The first year trio are watching Gojo who is completely head over heels for you.

To the world, Gojo Satoru is the strongest but to the people who know him Gojo Satoru is a menace.

When he was in high school, he was a different breed. Yaga could not sleep at times from all the stress Gojo would cause; be it either an earful from the higher ups or checking the news only to find out there had been an explosion conveniently where Gojo’s mission was assigned.

Sometimes he would get pictured sent to him by the problem student himself, a picture with a beaten up enemy and Gojo winking at the camera with a note saying ‘Yay~ another victory! I mean it’s as normal as breathing for me (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ’

Even when Yaga would use his authority and lecture him, sometimes Gojo Satoru would not listen; be it simply ignoring or rebutting it with his opinion— an opinion no one asks for.

And when that happens, Yaga would pull out his secret weapon ‘You’! He didn’t use this card all the time but at time Gojo was simply so uncooperative, he had to! Any word coming from you would be listened to by him as if it were law. Right now, at the age of 28 he seemed to have matured- no stopped acting as childish and Yaga didn’t have to rely on you so often.

That same Yaga watches from the window at his new first years— Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi— behind a bush, hiding peeking over to you and Gojo who were on a bench.

“Ah…” Kugisaki sweat dropped at the pair. “Gojo-sensei is so smitten.” She said observing at how you were simply reading a book, as Gojo yaps away but one thing very obvious was the gentle look he gave you.

When you finally looked Gojo’s way, their white haired teacher suddenly stops, they notice a faint blush peeping under his blindfolds and when he does starts talking he stammers. THE Gojo Satoru was stammering, biting his tongue simply because you were looking at him.

“Kugisaki, let’s leave.” Itadori covers his eyes, his right eye peeps through the cracks of his fingers. “Sensei is doing such a bad job at flirting with y/n, I’m getting embarrassed.”

Kugisaki lifts her hands and grabs the collar of Itadori’s and starts shaking it. “This is the closest we’re getting to romance in this school and I want to be the witness.” She grits her teeth.

Just then Nanami walks along the path, making the pair look over. You smile as you call out. “Nanami-kun.”

Nanami stops and waits as you stand from your bench, walking over to greet him. The students stare; as soon as you got off the bench and walks Gojo follows suit not even a millisecond later.

Kugisaki cringes. “He is like a puppy…”

They could vaguely hear Gojo start to make fun of Nanami, but when you think his ‘joke’ was a slight bit too harsh; they watch you give Gojo a side eye and almost immediately their teacher shuts up.

‘y/n has the strongest sorcerer at the palm of their hands .’ Kugisaki and Itadori collectively thought.

Before Kugisaki could comment she senses a small wet feeling on her forehead, then another and then she was drowning in it. Suddenly it started raining.

“Geh. Let’s get out of here.” Kugisaki says as she quickly brought her hands up to cover her bangs. “I don’t want my hair to frizz up.”

Itadori and Fushiguro follows her lead as they walk away to the nearby building and when they did reach shelter, Kugisaki quickly turns around to check on their teacher and you, a fellow sorcerer.

Her mouth drops slightly taking in the situation at hand, Nanami was no where in sight. She assumes he left because of the rain too.

But that wasn’t the focus.

Her eyes were focused on Gojo and you, holding hands smiling fondly at each other, she also noted that he was using ‘Infinity’ to not get wet from the rain.

Gojo laughs as he raises one of your hands high which makes you let out laugh, but complies as you proceed to twirl. As soon as you make two twirls, their teacher places his hands on your face as his leans down, his lips on yours.

Kugisaki and Itadori squeal and blushes at the intimate scene infront of them, jumping. “Sensei, finally did it! He kissed y/n—!” Itadori smiles.

They watch you smile into the kiss and you bring your hands up behind his neck, slowly trailing them into his hair, deepening the kiss.

“I’m so happy,Kugisaki.” Itadori wipes his tears with the back of his hands, extremely happy for his teacher’s happiness and success in his love life.

“I don’t know why you guys are making such a fuss.” Fushiguro finally decides to add into the antics of his classmates.

“Huh?” Kugisaki quickly turns and glares at the dark haired man. ”Is your heart made of stone or something,Fushiguro?”

“Yeah! I heard Gojo-sensei basically raised you.” Itadori chirps in. “You should be more happy for him.”

Kugisaki nods in agreement.

“I mean…” Fushiguro sighs as his hands are up massaging his temple, mentally preparing for the outburst to come.

“They’re married…”

“Ehhhhh???”

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here

[awearywritersworld]

megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader

tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.

ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.

gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"

gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"

gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"

honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?

he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?

apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.

he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.

while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.

his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.

and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.

he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—

"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.

while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"

oh.

gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.

megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.

"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."

gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.

"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.

your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.

"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"

"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.

the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.

you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.

he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.

"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."

this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.

gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.

"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"

just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.

"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"

nice.

"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.

you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.

megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"

"shut it, kid."

[crushmeeren]

Thoughts of knight! Megumi are hitting me hard.

From the age of ten, knight! Megumi grows up glued to your side. As the princess, your Father insisted upon someone guarding you at all times. He’s not a real knight as a child, but he’s training to become one! Megumi takes it seriously, mimicking everything Gojo, his mentor, does. He wouldn’t if it meant protecting anyone besides you.

Knight! Megumi is your best friend. It’s a secret of course, that you share inside jokes with him. That you whisper silly commentary about the stuck up citizens at the yearly ball thrown in your honor to him as he stands guard. Megumi has to hide his laughter with a cough or slam the metal face plate shut so he’s not caught slacking.

Knight! Megumi chases off all the sketchy suitors who wish for your hand in marriage. He knows you hate not being in charge of your own destiny, so if he can delay the inevitable even by a second, he will.

Knight! Megumi is the first boy you fall in love with. The only boy you fall in love with. He’s strong and loyal and pretty, and he scares away all the icky men. He’d strike down anyone for you if you’d only ask.

Knight! Megumi can’t say no when you plead with him to sneak into your bedroom in the dead of night. He’s wrapped around your finger, even more so when your pussy’s wrapped around his cock. When he shoves your knees to your chest he covers your mouth with his hand, or slips two fingers past your lips, presses on your tongue, and whispers “hush, princess.” The other guards can’t be allowed to catch on that Megumi’s fucking the princess, right? Surely the King would have his head.

Knight! Megumi knows that climbing into your bed every night contradicts just about every rule he’d been taught. He gives no fucks. He’ll never let another man lay hands on his princess. Megumi looks the King in the eyes and lies straight to his face, swearing on his life to protect your “virtue.” As if he hadn’t had his face in between your legs an hour ago.

Gojo’d be proud he’s sticking the middle finger to the man.

master list

[chuluoyi]

✎ wife

- gojo satoru x reader

in which the new batch of first years are unaware that their eccentric teacher's wife is the pretty woman roaming the school grounds

genre: fluff, crack, gojo being a silly little menace as always, yuji and nobara are confused, an attempt at humor, lovesick gojo, mention of breastfeeding

note: it’s so silly but i had fun writing this! based on a request by anon (thank you!) but i tweaked it a bit and partly inspired by this fanart. reader is also a teacher at jujutsu high and has a baby with gojo—loosely a continuation of protect

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Take that off immediately!"

"Kyaaah~! Yuji is here, you pervert!"

Yuji was a laughing mess. Megumi and Nobara collectively sighed. Nanami attempted to retrieve his once-immaculate suit, now a crumpled mess, from the one and only Gojo Satoru, who found humor in stealing his signature attire and impersonating the stern-faced Nanami in front of his fresh batch of first years.

"He is incorrigible," Nobara grumbled, her eyes slitting. They said that he was a strong sorcerer, possibly the strongest there was, but she found it really hard to believe.

Megumi threw her a deadpan stare. With many years of putting up with this kind of antics under his belt, he pitied her for not knowing that this was far from the worst. "Yeah, he is."

"How does anyone ever put up with him?"

That was actually a good question. "We don't..." Megumi paused, recalling each and every occasion where he tried to do so. "His wife is probably the only one who can."

Nobara sputtered, spinning towards him. "What the—wife? That annoying man has an actual, living, breathing wife?"

"Who? Gojo-sensei?" Yuji chimed in, jumping into the conversation, leaving the supposedly two adults in their catfight. Nanami was still clawing to get his suit back, and Gojo continued to giggle and evade him, playfully running away.

Nobara scoffed. "I bet the woman just married him for the money. He comes from prestigious clan, yes? That must be it."

Yuji felt his eyes would pop out of its sockets. "What are you talking about, Kugisaki!? What woman—"

"Shut up, Itadori! Don't be too loud!"

Nobara and Yuji's unharmonious ruckus irritated Megumi to the bone, and he decided that the best course of action now was to leave them all in the dust. With a glare and a shake of his head, he stalked away.

And thus the two new first years were left with half-truths that would lead them into a major misadventure later that day—

—which happened when they spotted Nanami with you, whom they were still unfamiliar with.

They were convinced that Gojo’s wife must be some sort of boring tramp eyeing his wealth and not this positively radiant, mature woman, and so ruling that possibility out, they positively swooned at the sight before them.

"He's irresponsible, egotistical—" snippets of Nanami's frustrated words conveyed enough to paint a picture of Gojo's character. He was definitely ranting about Gojo to you.

"Is that Nanamin's wife?" Yuji mused, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "She is so pretty..."

"They... look cute together," Nobara hummed with dreamy eyes, and then looked at Yuji sharply. "And yes, she's indeed pretty, but know your place, Itadori!"

"I know!"

Based on how the two of you interacted, they concluded that you must have been close, with the way Nanami visibly relaxed around you, and not as formal as he was with anyone else. They highly suspected that the two of you were married, as you wore a ring, which was the ultimate sign.

"And how's the baby?" Nanami asked then, directing the question to you with a smile on his face, prompting surprised gasps from both Yuji and Nobara.

You were glowing, to say the least, and when you let out a small giggle at his question, even both students couldn't miss the way your expression exuded pure happiness. "He is well. Ah, I really wanted to bring him along too, but he was a little messy after eating so I left him at home. You can see him later…"

Yuji gaped. "So it's true..."

"Oh my gosh... and they have a baby." Nobara almost squealed.

And that sealed it. The headline of the day: Nanami is married to this stunning woman wandering the school grounds.

So imagine their utter shock when the second time they found you, you were with Gojo, and he was shamelessly snogging you in the hallway.

“Why are you here?” Gojo was breathless after the soul-sucking kiss he smothered you. His tone remained playful yet carried a clear undertone of concern. "You're still on maternity leave. I'll make sure Yaga knows that."

“Satoru,” you whined, and the use of his given name made Yuji and Nobara gasp in disbelief. “I’m perfectly okay and I don’t need to breastfeed anymore. I should start getting back to work.”

Nobara seemed to finally understand the implication. But Yuji didn’t. His mind flitting from one scandalous idea to another—

Gojo-sensei seducing Nanamin’s wife? Nanamin’s wife cheating on him with Gojo-sensei?

In the brief period he spent with Gojo, Yuji realized that he didn't exactly have a reputation for decency. So despite himself, he could only muster up this one word: “Homewrecker. Homewrecker!”

Yuji’s shriek took all three of you by surprise, and now both you and Gojo were aware of his presence.

“You absolute idiot,” Nobara hissed, face-palming.

“Oh, Yuji? Nobara?” Gojo genially asked, his concern towards you quickly dissolved into a meaningful smirk on his face. “And what do you mean by—?”

Yuji yelped. “You! You are! You’re trying to seduce Nanamin’s wife!”

Silence. Gojo’s eyes twitched beyond his blindfold. You blinked. Nobara wanted to save herself from the second-hand embarrassment. And his loud voice caught the attention of Megumi too, who was close by.

“You seem to be mistaken. First of all, Nanami isn’t married,” Gojo said with a strained voice, maintaining his smile. He then gestured at you, showing you off with pride. “And this here, is my wife.”

“Y-your wife?!” Yuji exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger. “H-how?! I saw her with Nanamin! Talking about a baby—”

“That would be my baby.”

“But how?!”

“Yuji, do you want me to give you a crash course in baby-making—”

“Satoru!”

You sent him a glare and turned to the young first years with a smile. "You must be the new first years? I’m Y/N, and I’m in charge of the second years.” You gestured towards your husband. “And please, ignore most things he says. He’s a bit crass, and if you ever feel he's harassed you, don't hesitate to report it to me."

“Wifey! How could you!”

“Shut up, Satoru! You’re embarrassing yourself!”

“What are you doing here?” Megumi inquired with a deep frown, getting between Yuji and Nobara as they stared at Gojo in total bewilderment.

Yuji exclaimed in disbelief, pointing at you. “Fushiguro! Gojo-sensei’s wife is a beauty!”

“…I know that already.”

Nobara whipped her head towards him. "You knew?! Since when?!"

“They… took me in.”

“THEY WHAT?!”

Gojo grinned at their chorus of surprise. “And what a fine boy he turns out to be, eh?”

Megumi scowled, but Gojo wasn’t bothered at all. If anything, what offended him was—

"What makes you think my dear wife here belongs to Nanami instead of me?" he joked with a mock scoff, earning an eye roll from you.

Nobara and Yuji blurted out their thoughts simultaneously.

“They look good together?”

“Nanamin is dependable?”

Gojo gasped dramatically, one hand flying to his mouth. "So, not only do I not look good with her, but I also don't seem dependable enough?" He turned to you with the most aghast expression. “Tell me that isn’t true—”

You shot him a withering look, deadpanning, “Actually, you might be.”

And Gojo clutched his chest, letting out an anguished cry.

Epilogue

“Satoru… come on, you know I was joking.”

Your dramatic ass of a husband had his head on your lap, hugging your torso tight. The pout on his face hadn’t faded a bit ever since he was done with his class, and now on your marital bed, he was clinging to you with all of his might.

He shook his head petulantly, clicking his tongue. “You’ve embarrassed me in front of my students. You’re so mean!”

You sighed. “I’m sure you have made a fool out of yourself far often. This is insignificant.”

“Hmph! How could you say that?! I don't care if it's me, but I can't believe that it's coming from you! I shower you with my undivided love each and every day!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Somehow seeing him like this made your heart lurch. He reminded you so much of your baby boy who was sleeping right in the next room that you couldn't resist smiling and pinching his cheeks.

“Okay, okay. My husband is handsome, looks good with me and definitely someone I can rely on,” you relented, and like a lightbulb going off, Satoru suddenly beamed so wide that you were certain his cheeks hurt.

“That’s more like it! Now, now, there’s only one way that can prove how responsible I am! Let me just fill you up with another baby—”

You smacked him on the head.

[alexiroflife]

"first day"

fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off

Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door

to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of

WC: 1,701

Warning(s): none

"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.

His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"

"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."

"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.

"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."

"Not at all, actually," you agree.

Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"

"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."

"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.

"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.

"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."

"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.

"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."

"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."

"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.

"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."

Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.

"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"

"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."

"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"

"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."

"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.

"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.

"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.

"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.

"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.

"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.

"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."

"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."

"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."

Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"

"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."

The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."

"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."

Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.

"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."

The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"

"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."

"But-"

"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.

"Yes, ma'am."

Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"

"We done, now?"

"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."

Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.

Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.

He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."

You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."

"I know. I will," he nods.

"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."

"I won't."

"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."

"I'll try."

You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.

"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.

"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"

"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."

"Please do."

Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."

"Don't speed, Toji."

"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.

"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.

"See ya, doll."

"Bye, mum."

The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.

You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.

You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.

Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.

"Yep."

Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.

Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."

"I'm gonna cry."

The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"

"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."

"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."

"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."

"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."

"You're being for real?"

"Of course I am."

You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."

"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"

"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."

He smirks. "Will do, doll."

[remlionheart]

MDNI. aged up characters. ✩࿐࿔

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁₊˚⋆

you're half-asleep, snuggled into the safety of megumi's comforter as the weight of the day slowly starts to disappear, your worries and stress lost to the feeling of his touch. it's rare that sleep takes you this easily, but tonight, it's holding your hand so tightly you can't stop your body from softly twitching against his as your mind slips further into its dreamy abyss.

a small smile cuts across his face when he notices the way you ease into him. his fingers are featherlight, drifting along your skin with all the delicacy in the world as they create hazy patterns across your collarbone and along the back of your neck, his nails just barely grazing your scalp the higher up he goes. he's warm, he's always so warm and perfect when he's holding you like this, making the rest of the outside world melt away with his presence alone.

your thoughts are scattered, comfortable but blurred by how relaxed your body is when you feel his breath start to fan across the nape of your neck, his hand carefully sliding between your thighs as he presses the sleepiest kisses into the side of your neck. you shift again, your eyes struggling to stay shut as he lulls dizzy little nothings into your neck, "relax, okay? just let me take care of you."

you give him a small nod, letting yourself settle into his touch, the palm of his hand firm but gentle as he coaxes your legs apart. "i know you had a long day." he whispers, electricity suddenly flickering across your skin as his fingers tentatively spread you.

his voice feels like silk, low and entrancing with the way it wraps around you so effortlessly. "i want you to let all of that go and focus on me–," your back arches as he continues to leave light kisses scattered across the top of your shoulder, his words only pulling you further and further into his orbit. "focus on your breathing. focus on my touch. focus on this, the way this feels–"

you can't help the heady noise that escapes you when his fingers dip into you, instantly finding that spot that you can never quite reach yourself.

"right there, yeah?" you can hear the faint smile in his voice as he presses into it again with adoring precision. "it's always right there, isn't it?"

you don't have to say anything for him to know the answer, your walls clenching around him gives him all the confirmation he needs. there's never been anyone else who's known you this entirely– who's known exactly how and where to touch you the way that he does. it's almost overwhelming sometimes, how much pride he takes in making you feel this good.

"you make the prettiest noises, y'know that?" his praises only draw more of them out of you, his thumb drawing blissful circles around your clit as his fingers continue on with the same tantalizing pace. pumping in and out of you in a way that makes the edges of your vision start to blur.

"there it is." he groans, his teeth just barely sinking into your neck. "doin' so good for me, keep going."

"m– megumi," you whimper, your body grinding against his as he holds you steady.

"i know, baby." he soothes, "i know. you don't have to say it, just let me feel it okay?"

your breath catches in your throat, your thighs suddenly locking his hand in place as little tremors begin to ripple through them. your walls comply with his command, squeezing his fingers so snug that you're not even sure how he manages to keep his rhythm, but he never breaks it.

his voice is the only thing keeping you tethered to the room, the rest of your mind succumbing to the hazy bliss he's lead you to as your core begins to desperately unravel around him.

"such a perfect girl, cummin' all over me like this. how'd i get so lucky, huh?" his freehand finds the side of your face, turning your head towards his as he hovers above over you.

your lips meet his eagerly, your tongue swirling against his with fervor as he holds you, continuing to spill out pretty little reassurances in between breaths. your hands wrap around the collar of his shirt, pulling him in as close as you can while he helps you ride out the last few waves of your orgasm.

there are stars in your eyes by the time he finally pulls out, your chest heaving as your surroundings slowly come back into view. none of it matters though– not the day you had or the rest of what exists outside of the room. the only thing that matters is the way he smiles as he kisses you, the tender warmth of his hand under your chin. the way his midnight gaze lights up in even in a dimly lit space just from looking at you.

the only thing that matters, is him.

"you know i think you've got it wrong," you whisper, "i'm the lucky one."

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁₊˚⋆

[daughterhouse]

messy-haired megumi waking up beside you in the morning. all groggy and grumpy, his eyes are shut heavy and sleep is pulling him back down into the sheets.

and you're so comfortable, legs tangled up in his as you rest on his chest. his heartbeat is sweet in your ears, the heat of his body a simple reminder that he's here and safe and wholly yours.

"i can feel you staring at me," he grumbles, eyes closed as you watch him from his chest. "go back to sleep."

"it's nearly midday," your voice is soft in return: he had a late night, staying up late into the morning hours as he watched you sleep. watching the rise and fall of your chest, feeling your gentle breath against his sleep—reminding himself you were okay. so much loss does such things to the soul.

so when you try and push yourself up, megumi is quick to pull you back down against his body and press his face into your hair. he takes a deep breath in, inhales your scent, and lets his eyes close again.

"five more minutes," he says. "please."

you smile against his skin. you'd give him all the time in the world if you could.

[ohmy-gojo]

ignoring him prank (nanami, modern!sukuna) ෆ

nanami

— you saw this prank idea on tiktok and had to try it on your beloved ken, deciding on not talking to him unless absolutely necessary all day tomorrow

— next day came, he woke you up with a kiss and greeted you good morning

— instinctively you were about to smooch his entire face with a "g'morningggg ken" but you remembered your prank and just nodded at him and got up

— confused baby but he thought that you were still sleepy

— but this behavior continued all throughout the breakfast too. normally you would sit on the kitchen counter chatting his ears off while he made breakfast, or praise his cooking skills while eating his food but today you were so silent :(

— he even tried to start conversations about some random news but all you said was "oh okay" and "mhm"

— finally decided to confront you before going to work, he cant have you being supposedly mad at him. communication is key! also bc he loved hearing you yapping

— when he finally asked if you were mad at him, you really really tried to maintain a straight face but ended up laughing 😭

— nanami immediately understood what you were up to and deadpanned

— "youre such a menace darling" "im sorry!!" youre still laughing btw

— he shook his head fondly and wrapped his arms around you, "silly girl, i should have known. now about my kiss from the morning-"

— too late. youre already all over his face

sukuna

— he was at the gym

— after finishing his workout, he checked his phone for any messages from you (you send him minutely updates, voice messages begging for gym pics and tiktoks)

— but today there were none

— he just shrugged his shoulders as if he dont gaf (he does, he's sad that you didnt send him any messages today)

— drived home a little faster that day (def not bc hes worried)

— he announced "im home", expected you to jump to his arms with a "welcome home kuna!!" while he tried to shove you off (read:pull you closer) bc he was sweaty like always

— but you were just sitting on the couch reading your stupid book, barely looking at him

— so he said "im home" once again with a louder volume. this time you nodded at him. hm progress

— even after many attempts at getting you to talk ( like 'forgetting' to take the towel so you would come and scold him, but you just left it by the door) he was unsuccessful

— you were still sitting in the damn couch reading your damned book while he was pacing in front of you wondering what he did wrong

— finally hes like "arghhh fuck this" and grabbed your shoulders, asking you what the heck is going on

— you were like "what do you mean😇"

— "why are you ignoring me?!?!" "i am not??🙂"

— after a heavy eye contact session with him you finally dropped your prank and softly laughed "sorry i was just prankin' you"

— his forehead popped a vein. "you little shi-"

— you shut him up with a "welcome home kuna!!" and wrapping your arms around him

— he huffed and puffed a lot but still pulled you closer and tighter

— but not before flicking your forehead and calling you a dumbass😭

note : i think megumi would be cute too with this prank :P he also gives silent bf x talkative gf vibes (this is one of my fav tropes everrr)

[churipu]

"SHUT UP, MAMA." 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. fem! reader, husband! au, i made names for your children but feel free to disregard it

note. i remembered this tiktok trend, just figured i should write about how the jjk men would react to their child doing this.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo had a day off. it's rare for a jujutsu sorcerer like him — being the strongest, he's an asset to the jujutsu world. so him being in a day off is like a miracle to both you and your seven year old son, who might i say, is an exact carbon copy of your husband.

"honey, you need to put your toys away. it's almost dinner time," you said from the kitchen, gojo by your side, ready to help you with anything.

"let me take that," he sings out, grabbing two plates from your grasp — you chuckled, letting him take the white colored ceramic disk, "looks good, baby."

as you and gojo walked out of the kitchen, placing the plates on top of the dining table. gojo pulled out your seat for you. habits die hard, the male has always pulled your seat out for you since the very first date.

your son. marise gojo. a boisterous little boy, absolutely loves to play with his rocket toys, and somehow believes he's a little astronaut. there he sat in front of the TV, playing with his toys, an astronaut helmet covering his small head.

"buddy," gojo calls out to the boy, "it's dinner time, clean up your toys. mama made some good food."

when gojo's call didn't work, you tried doing it next, "marise, your food's going to get cold, honey."

the young boy didn't make any visible movements, but you heard him yell out with his high pitched voice, "shut up, mama!"

gojo looks at you briefly. i mean — as a father, he couldn't believe his own son said that. to his mother. gojo wasn't one to get mad, in fact, marise is a total daddy's boy. but he felt angry, frustrated, annoyed, all at once.

he wasted no time leaping up from his seat, approaching the young boy. his smile no longer visible; gojo was unhappy. the male used one of his hands to take off marise's astronaut helmet, tossing it aside before grabbing the young boy by his small waist.

marise didn't complain, and he still has no idea of what his father is about to do. so he just sat still in gojo's embrace — until gojo puts him down beside you, "say sorry."

marise's bright blue eyes stared up at gojo in confusion, "say sorry to mama, marise."

it wasn't "baby" or "buddy" like gojo used to address him by, and marise wasn't stupid. he knew he did something wrong, but he just didn't get what or why his father is telling him to apologize to you.

"sorry mama . . ." marise's soft voice resounds.

"do you know what you did wrong?" gojo questions sternly.

marise shook his head, his eyes watering at gojo's tone of voice, "no papa . . ."

gojo sighs, he squats down and gazes into his son's eyes, "you should never say 'shut up' to mama or papa, okay? not to anyone, 'ts not polite. don't ever do that again, now say sorry to mama for saying that."

marise nods his head and turns to look at you, his eyes watering — it's not everyday that you get to see papa gojo get angry, "'m sorry mama, i will never do that again," the young boy finally cried, letting his tears fall out of his doe eyes.

you can't help but to smile at the young boy, pulling him onto your lap to cradle him, "don't do that again, baby. 'ts not polite," your fingers grazed his chubby cheeks, wiping his tears away, "and if mama or papa tells you to stop playing and eat, what do you do?"

marise sniffled, "stop playing and eat."

"good boy," you kissed his little forehead, "go give papa a kiss."

and that marise did, gojo immediately picking the boy into his arms with a big smile, "give papa two kisses, buddy."

sure, gojo is a fun parent. but he knows how to teach his children boundaries — what to do and what not to do. he's scary when he's angry.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

megumi is the child that made you and toji think you both should have another child — fukuo is the child that made you and toji stop wanting more children. not saying that fukuo is a bad kid, but the boy is relentless.

with a pretty large age difference between megumi and fukuo with six years, sometimes megumi had to teach fukuo some manners, telling the younger boy what's right and wrong. when fukuo misbehaves, it's megumi and you to the rescue — while toji would usually chuckle it off since, well, he's a little minus on the manners part as well. but you're working on that.

toji said so himself, he wouldn't mind fukuo misbehaving on some things. but the male did set some boundaries up for both of his boys and how they should act well towards you (and him).

today, megumi is twelve and fukuo is six. both of your boys look alike, "mama, 'm gonna be staying late at school because we have a play coming, 'm gonna help my classmate decorate the stage," megumi tells you as he puts on his shoes.

"alright, baby. have a good day at school, i love you," you pressed a kiss on megumi's head, waving him goodbye.

as megumi disappears behind the front door, you walk back inside the house, "toji, wake fukuo up, please. 'm getting his breakfast ready," toji who had his eyes on the television curtly nodded, sluggishly walking towards the boy's room.

"hey, champ." toji approaches the boy, who was sleeping soundly, "your mother's made some good food f' you. if you're not gonna eat it, i'll steal your portion."

fukuo squirmed a bit, but his eyes were still shut tightly, "fukuo," toji gently shook the boy, poking his cheek.

like anyone, fukuo didn't like his sleep disturbed, "papa, stop . . ." he mumbled out, shifting his small body so his little back was facing toji, "five more minutes."

toji sighs, "five more minutes."

he then went out of the room, "he asked for five more minutes," he informs you — sitting back down on the couch.

"five more minutes," was not an unfamiliar statement to you, especially coming from fukuo who had always managed to, of course, butcher the concept of time right after. it was either an hour, or more.

so you waited five minutes, and when the young boy didn't emerge from his bedroom, you found yourself walking towards it, "fukuo? baby, come on, mama made you breakfast . . ." you turn on the light, which made fukuo subconsciously twitch.

"fukuo, come on, papa will eat your breakfast . . ." you shook the boy gently.

"shut up, mama."

you blinked in surprise, but only managed out an exasperated sigh at the boy's sudden outburst, until all of a sudden toji appears beside you — his hand wet, and he slides his palm across the boy's face with a serious look on his face.

"wake up, fukuo. i won't tell you this again," toji mutters out, "three."

oh, god. the countdown was every kid's nightmare, "two," including fukuo's — shown by how the young boy immediately sat up on his bed, "apologize to your mother."

fukuo furrowed his brows, "why?"

"you don't tell her to shut up. apologize." you were just there silently, a little shocked at how toji had become so serious when he's usually so laid-back with the boys, "say sorry and eat your breakfast."

fukuo swallows his saliva nervously and scoots over to you, "'m sorry for telling you to shut up mama, i promise i won't do that again . . ." he whispers, throwing his short arms around your neck — burying his face into the crook of your neck.

you pulled him close, carrying the young boy in your arms, "'ts okay baby, no more telling people to shut up, okay? 's not nice, it'll hurt people's feelings."

"okay mama . . . 'm sorry for hurting your feelings," fukuo pulls back slightly, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek before facing toji, "'m sorry for hurting mama's feelings, papa."

toji placed his palm over the boy's face, covering it entirely, a sheepish smirk plastered on his lips, "go brush y'r teeth and eat your breakfast, mama made some pancakes."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami is such a girl dad. ever since he found out that both of you were going to have a baby girl, he's delighted. just knowing that he'd have a mini version of the both of you made his stomach churn in happiness.

hoshi. nanami hoshi is her name. it was a very peaceful six years of raising her — but they said there will be a devil baby phase, and here she was. whining, throwing tantrums over things she didn't get. it was honestly tiring, but you knew this was a risk of raising a child.

"hoshi, baby, please stand up." you cooed down at the girl who was lying down on the ground. in the middle of a mall, "mama and papa will buy that toy for you next time, i promise."

nanami was by your side, holding onto the baby stroller. his eyes were unreadable, you don't know what he had in mind, but the look he peered at your daughter was plainly and eerily terrifying.

yes, there are moments where he spoils hoshi with what she wants. toys, food, drinks, you name it. but there are times where he declines because he didn't want her to grow up too spoiled, "i wan' that toy, mama!"

you inhaled sharply, trying to slide your hand underneath her armpits to pick her up, but hoshi refused by kicking your hands away. her little kicks barely scratched you — but the people looking at your small family as they passed by definitely got a little kick to you.

"baby, people are looking at you . . ." you whispered.

"i don't care, shut up, mama!"

that was the last straw for nanami who had been silent. he grabbed your arm and tugged you up gently, nodding at you as if telling you to leave this one to him.

you backed away slightly, taking a hold of the stroller nanami had let go a few seconds prior as he squats down. forcefully but gently slipping his hands underneath hoshi's armpits, carrying her into his arms.

"mama said we will buy that toy for you next time, okay?" he sternly said, eyeing his little girl who was now silent as she gazed into his eyes, "and you never. never tell mama to shut up, do you understand?"

hoshi nods her head slowly, lips quivering at her father's sudden lecture, nanami's eyes visibly softened and he rocked her in his arms, "papa's not angry at you, hoshi. but papa wants you to know that telling mama to shut up is not polite, okay?"

again hoshi nods her head.

"go and say that you're sorry to mama," he pecked her chubby cheeks before letting her down onto the ground.

hoshi's little legs ran towards you, hugging your leg, "'m so sorry mama," she muffles into your leg, "i don't want the toy anymore, mama. 'm sorry for being a bad girl."

you squat down, nuzzling your nose to her, "you're not a bad girl, baby . . . mama and papa will buy you that next time, okay? we promise."

"okay, mama. i love you."

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[eraserbread]

megumi's babysitter x dad!jo

"and they lived happily ever after... the end."

next to you, tucked politely under his covers, megumi scowls at nothing, soft cheeks all bunched up and unimpressed. he doesn't like bedtime stories, but his dad insisted he open his imagination at least once a day. come to think of it... his dad has quite a few odd requests he insists upon.

"even you don't believe that, do you, nana?" for his age, megumi is extremely well and thoroughly spoken. he calls you by a nickname, because he prefers it over yours, and his dad introduced you as a nanny, though you were more his babysitter. you just let the kid say what he wants, correcting him isn't what you should spend your energy on.

"in some circumstances, yes," you mutter, kicked up in his big, downy bed. he's so babyish when he's sleepy, trying everything to keep his eyes open so he can hear your response. you laugh softly. "alright, megumi. I'll stop bothering you."

"is my dad home?" he asks as you slip out of his bed, eyes finally fully shut. glancing at the clock on his bedside, you nod.

"he should be. i'm sure he'll come kiss you goodnight."

"don't want him to kiss me goodnight." he grumbles, then succumbs to the throbbing pressure of sleep. it happens so quickly with children, you're almost jealous of how peaceful he looks when he's asleep.

you laugh at his early set pessimism, turning around to leave the room and him to his sleep.

you're humming a tune buried deep in your mind as you gently close megumi's door. the lights in the hallway are off, just like you left them, but towards the kitchen, a warm spill of light coats the expensive wood flooring.

you smile, knowing there's only one person flicking on that lamp. as you approach, familiar laughter booms from around the kitchen, your silent footsteps are strict and strong as they make their way to your... boss.

yeah, boss is easy enough.

"ah, suguru, you know that's not true. i only told her what she wanted to hear." gojo leans over his counter, freakishly long forearms resting on the cool marble. he's yapping about on the phone, messy, light bangs covering his beautiful face.

"look who it is!" he notices you immediately, holding the phone from his ear so he can shoot you a wave. "is megumi asleep?"

"won't be for much longer if you keep yelling like that."

he laughs again, sending a silvery hot wave of shivers through your body. there's something here with you two. something both of you partake in and never mention outside of the headiness. a piece of you knows it's wrong, taboo, almost. but gojo is so well-behaved around his son that it doesn't really matter. megumi could be in the attic, and he in the basement, and gojo would still never utter a curse.

let alone show you any ounce of devotion or sensuality.

you're not quite sure why that concept is barreling toward a change tonight.

maybe it's the way he looks in those pressed, black dress pants or how his gold rings shimmer on his long, long fingers. perhaps it's that special, sharp-toothed smile that does you in, but you're in,

and you're drowning.

"well, that's not a very funny joke."

"i don't joke." you don't mean to sound aloof or off-putting, and gojo understands that. he thinks you and his megumi are very much alike in terms of personality. it seems he reels in the quiet, mysterious kind with his stupid dad jokes and caring archetype.

"'course you don't." gojo mutters, then turns back to his phone conversation. "megumi's babysitter’s in the room, I'll call you back... alrighty friend... see 'ya..."

"he had the rest of his noodles from yesterday for dinner... made sure he did all of his homework and cleaned out his backpack for him, too."

"and you made his school lunch?"

"yes, sir."

"and a nighttime bath? they're his favorite."

you nod. "hair washed, too."

"good, good." he stands up straight, blue dress shirt clinging to his familiar, dewy skin. you can't help but trail your view from his glimmering lips, down to the gold on his neck that runs into the collar of his shirt... so mystifying...

he's getting less strict around you, now. you can tell when he walks over to you, smirking the corners of his lips up. instantly, you're standing up straight, lips parted as he closes in.

he's not usually so careless, but you look so beautiful right now. you treat his baby like he's your own and are thoughtful and motherly to the core. it's based in everything you do, even to the way your hand reaches up to cradle his cheek when he kisses you.

this is your reward for a night well done. a kiss to the lips, his long arms crossed around your waist, and your name in the air. one kiss doesn't suffice, he has to pull you in closer, arching your back with the strength of his grip as he kisses you again.

then, again.

and again, this time. tilting his head so he can deepen it. his tongue is peeking from his lips, sliding against the swell of yours before they're tasting your sweet warmth.

he only pulls away because he's breathless. so are you -- flushed to the core, as well.

"wh-what was that for?" you're looking away, pressing the back of your wrist to your lips as you blush uncontrollably. he's just smiling at you, still holding you tight.

"a bonus for a job well done." then, he's pulling away, leaving you cold and touchless.

he's never done more than that, and that's the most he's done. you understand it's out of respect for you and professionalism, but when you're being pulled into rooms and kissed while on the job, it's inevitable that those lines start to fade together until they dissipate completely.

but you don't want any lines with your boss. you want him on top of you. you want to tangle your hands in his hair and stare into his freakish blues until his gaze feels like home.

"again - great job, today. gonna go kiss my megumi goodnight. feel free to take your leave whenever you're comfortable!"

"uh-" you start, but he's waving you off, back facing your reddened face. "okay..."