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ticklish much ? megumi fushiguro 𖹭
author's note: back :) i'm struggling to find motivation to write (or do anything really) but ill keep trying guys 🥹 anywho this was a request sent by @fvvckdd enjoy! (p.s sorry if it's too short..) credits to @chrisssiren for the dividers!
snicker.
the moment you heard that single snicker, you stopped what you were doing. the arms that were once wrapped around his face, retreat, the face that was once buried into the crook of his neck pulls away, and the faint smile on your lips is replaced with a more shocked and surprised look. you look at your boyfriend, megumi for a moment. you swore this boy was incapable of producing sounds like that. you knew megumi was a very quiet and stoic boy and often times you found it difficult to get a smile or laugh out of him. so when you heard that snicker as you nuzzled your face into his neck, breathing in the strong scent of his cologne, it surprised you.
surprise then turned into curiosity. you were curious as to why he made that sound. was it comething you did?. then the realization that he, megumi fushiguro, was ticklish dawned on you. megumi fushiguro was ticklish. not in the 15 years of your life did you expect to find out that the boy who has the personality of a sour old man was ticklish when you nuzzle your nose into his neck. so, in yn fashion, you decide to test it. "megumi.." you murmur in that sweet tone only reserved for him (and sometimes his puppies). you bury your face into the crook of his neck, and rub your nose on it.
snicker
"stop that.." megumi huffed, annoyed. "it's annoying."
this only fueled your amusement even more. "are you ticklish megumi?" you asked. megumi's only response was to kick your foot underneath the large blanket covering the both of you. "i am not" he said dryly. "it's okay to admit it, 'gumi", you say with that teasing grin he's gotten used to everytime you find something about him to pick on. "yes you areee!" you bury your face into his neck once more and he huffs and stifles a giggle. "if i admit will you shut up and let me nap?"
"maybe." you say with a grin.
megumi sighs and finally says, with a annoyed frown on his face, "i am ticklish, happy now?".
you nod "very happy."
glasses! .✦ ݁˖
in which satoru gets glasses and his baby daughter can't recognise him! (ó﹏ò。) part 1 of my 1k celebratory series, i hope you enjoyy!!<3
content: husband!gojo x reader, dadjo fluff ♡⸝⸝ word count: 2.1k
“ta-da!”
you’re busy cutting up fruit for your daughter when you hear your husband’s voice followed by the sound of the front door clicking shut, signalling his arrival home. the familiar sound of him shrugging off his coat and making his way to the kitchen reaches your ears, and so you quickly finish up cutting the strawberries and apple slices before turning your attention to the kitchen doorway.
“hey toru—” you begin. before you can finish, however, you’re forced to cut your own words off, your eyes falling upon satoru’s face. a blank, slightly puzzled expression crosses your features.
“…since when did you have glasses?”
“since today!” he grins, slipping them off and turning them over in his hands. “nanami was saying how my eyesight has been kinda lacking recently, and i thought he had been overreacting buuut…guess he was right!” he nods his head towards the glasses in his hands with an eager smile.
sighing and rinsing your hands clean of the fruit juice, you reach forward to take the glasses into your own hands, wanting to see them for yourself. “you don’t give the poor man enough credit, you know.”
“…okay rude! i give him plenty of credit where it’s due!” he retorts. he watches with a fond expression as you hold the glasses out in front of you, your brows furrowed as you test the lenses.
“wow, satoru!” you gasp jokingly. “i always thought that you were the strongest, but it seems like your prescription is even stronger!”
that earns you one of his signature pouts, his lip jutted out dramatically as he feigns offence, snatching the glasses back from your grasp and fixing them atop his face again.
“hey! i’ll have you know that i’m plenty stronger than my prescription.”
you roll your eyes playfully before you hear the sound of soft footsteps approaching from the living room, followed by an excited squeal. you turn to see your daughter rushing into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around her father’s leg, and satoru lifts her up so that he’s holding her against his chest, face-to-face with her now.
“papa! papa come look, i made a princess castle with the big blocks and—” she cuts her words off abruptly.
what had been an excited expression — eyes blown wide and plump cheeks pulled into a huge smile — quickly turns into one of…confusion. she simply pauses and pulls her head backwards slightly to inspect him, staring blankly.
“..who are you?” she mumbles, and satoru wishes he could ignore the tone of disgust in her words. he forces out a tiny laugh.
“who am i? what do you mean, sweetheart?” he asks, sticking out his lip playfully once more. he leans forward to press a quick, teasing kiss to her nose, only for her to whine and lightly push his face away with her hand.
she turns her body in his arms so that she’s facing you, evidently having decided that the first answer wasn't satisfactory enough for her. “mama, who is he?”
the gasp that satoru lets out upon realising that she’s actually serious is comically loud. he simply stays stood there with a hurt expression, staring through thick lenses at his miniature version and looking as though she’s just scalded him.
“don’t you recognise me?” his voice has already raised an octave, tone offended, and he hastens to pull off the glasses, resolutely placing them upon the tabletop. “see, i’m your father..!” he turns to you now, eyes desperate, and it takes everything in you not to giggle. “sweets, tell her i’m her father!”
“toru, don’t be silly.” you make your way closer to where he’s stood with your daughter in his arms, pressing a quick kiss to her hair before speaking once more. “you recognise papa, right?”
“umm…” she studies his face, this time without him wearing the glasses, before nodding. “..mhm!” your daughter nods enthusiastically, a gummy smile stretching across her face once more. she extends her hands out to touch satoru’s cheeks, as though checking he’s really there in front of her. then, with a tiny satisfied nod to herself, she leans back into him, resting her head against his chest.
“papa, you looked funny.” she mumbles. you can’t help but laugh, but judging by the look on satoru’s face, the situation is anything but amusing.
“i looked…funny?” he mimics, his tone tainted with disbelief and a touch of devastation. his brows are pinched together, looking scandalised as he peers down at your daughter in his arms as she speaks.
“mhm…like different funny.”
you’re sure you can practically hear satoru’s heart shattering in that moment, his face falling completely. he stays stood there, studying your daughter’s face in silence before seeming to come to a decision, decidedly snatching his glasses off the table and inspecting them.
“then i won’t wear them.”
“what? toru, you have to!” you cut in, but his features are already set in that stubborn face that you recognise all too well.
“no — my own daughter doesn’t recognise me!” he places heavy emphasis on the word daughter, the betrayal and hurt evident in his voice. you roll your eyes, trying to hold back an exasperated sigh at his dramatics.
“satoru, you need to be able to see things — surely you’re not serious!” you protest.
“i’m super serious! never again.”
-
a tiny, foolish part of you had thought — or rather, hoped — that he’d been joking, that it was another one of his silly over-exaggerations, a dramatic declaration in the heat of the moment. except it wasn’t.
because now you’re sat watching satoru squint at his phone for the hundredth time in the past hour, his handsome features practically stuck in place now in that same, discomforted expression. you hadn’t planned on bringing up the glasses again, already expecting the conversation to be a losing battle, but after a while you’d decided that you really couldn’t bear to watch him like that anymore.
“satoru…” you begin, not knowing quite how to get through to the 6’3” child in front of you. before you can begin, however, he cuts you off, having already anticipated your concern.
“i’m fine!” he insists, defiantly as ever. you notice your daughter’s head raise from where she’s doodling with her crayons, eagerly turning her head between you and her father in interest.
“you literally can’t see properly.” you retort.
“better that than have my own daughter not recognise me..” he grumbles. “she even said i look funny!”
you bite your tongue, deciding not to argue — instead, you let him continue scrolling on his phone, noting the way he continues to struggle to read the words on screen.
the same problem seems to crop up later, too, when he’s watching a movie with your daughter. you’re comfortably curled up on the couch, a blanket thrown over your lap, meanwhile satoru and your daughter are both laying on their stomachs inside the makeshift den they’d constructed earlier. in all honesty, you’d better describe it as a mess of cushions and blankets simply propped up haphazardly — in fact, you can even see your husband’s long legs half sticking out from the back of the den.
movie nights have become a common occurrence for your little family, and it’s no secret that your husband absolutely does not take family nights lightly.
whether it’s board game nights, late-night arts and crafts sessions at the kitchen table or simply time for bedtime stories, he always goes out of his way to make sure it’s as enjoyable as possible for your daughter— and movie nights are no exception. so, in true satoru gojo fashion, the den floor is cluttered with snacks: a bowl of strawberries, a couple of mini juice cartons, some popcorn and a plate of freshly-baked brownies among others. honestly, how your daughter will make it to adulthood without developing dreadful cavities is beyond you.
they both lay there on their stomachs, brownie crumbs all over your daughter’s mouth and cheeks and a half-bitten strawberry in satoru’s free hand from when he’d been feeding her. every so often she rests her head against his shoulder, her eyes still glued to the tv screen, and during the funnier scenes of the movie she turns her head towards his, searching his face for laughter before joining in and giggling loudly.
everything about the night is perfect, except for one tiny problem. satoru can’t see.
he tries to focus his vision, tries to make out the figures of the characters on screen as best as he can, but they’re too blurry, the screen a mess of fuzzy outlines and colours.
truth be told, it probably wouldn’t matter too much anyway, considering the fact that he knows the movie inside-out from having rewatched it a million times with your daughter. but nonetheless, he keeps squinting at the screen for several minutes, trying to force himself to register what exactly he’s looking at, brows knitted in careful concentration.
unfortunately for him, however, your four year old is scarily perceptive when she wants to be. she notices his strange behaviour — the repeated eye straining, the way his lip is jutted out subconsciously in mild frustration, the tiny irritated groans that leave his throat every few minutes— before finally speaking up.
“what are you doing?” she tilts her head to the side, wide blue eyes observing her father’s face.
“nothing! just focus on the movie, okay?” he beams wide, but the look on her face tells him that she isn’t entirely convinced. she simply stares at him, studying his expression for a few seconds before seeming to have an idea.
your daughter suddenly hops up from inside the den with such haste that you jolt from your own spot on the sofa. you and satoru both turn to exchange a brief confused look, hearing the pitter-patter of her feet against the floors as she rushes through the house.
“you’re missing the movie!” your husband calls out, but it’s in vain — your daughter doesn’t respond, strangely unbothered. in any other situation she’d never miss a single second of movie night this easily. satoru fumbles with the mess of cushions and snacks on the floor before finally retrieving the remote and pausing the movie, and with a sigh, he rests his head against his palm, turning to face you.
“…wonder what she’s doing..” he mutters, and you nod in agreement.
after a few short minutes your daughter finally returns, plopping down firmly by satoru’s side and placing down his glasses case.
“papa, you need to wear these!” she says determinedly. her tone is reminiscent of your own one earlier, and the similarity makes satoru’s heart swell for a brief moment.
she struggles to open the case at first, her fingers fumbling over the box before your husband intervenes. he carefully moves her hands away so that she won’t trap her fingers, a fond smile on his face at her puffed out cheeks and her determined expression — or at least, whatever parts of those features he’s actually able to distinguish properly without his glasses on. slowly, she picks the glasses up and tries to put them onto satoru’s face, narrowly avoiding poking his eyes out in the process.
with the guidance of your husband’s hands atop hers, she manages to finally slide the glasses onto his face properly so that they’re resting atop his nose now. he blinks at the sudden change in his vision, his daughter’s soft wispy pigtails and sticky food-covered cheeks now coming into vision clearly.
it’s an odd moment for satoru, as though he’s rediscovering the sensation of being a father again. he finally feels able to pinpoint the exact position of her sweet features once more, her face in much clearly quality than ever before, and for a second he can’t remember why he’d ever refused to wear his glasses in the first place.
that is, until she seems to decide to remind him.
“yay! you don’t look too funny papa, so you can still wear them, okay?” she’s wearing a stern expression as she holds his face securely in place with both her hands, waiting for confirmation that he understands. he chuckles.
“…i don’t look too funny?” he echoes her words, a single brow raised in interest.
“yeah! you only look a little funny, so it’s okay to wear them.”
satoru can’t even find it in himself to feign offence — if anything, he laughs harder before nodding.
“okay then. thanks for the permission, sweetheart.”
author's notes: AHHH part one is finally up — i’m so sorry for the delay and i hope you guys like itt!! i’m hoping to get the rest of the parts done much faster than this one
sparkle divider creds: anitalenia
🍰 taglist (thank you!!!):
general taglist: @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @renrenrenren17 @733164 @palanggaaa @nonchalantfiend @bowiesprettieststar2 @mariisagb @pjselee @megssleepygirl @rengoatku @hangenism @yujisdreamgirl @nonamedreams @ivankinnieclatter @venusdreamr @sugerfilled @silverstar111 @dreamyreadinglover @v4mp1r3b4tzz @dev1lw4arsprada @megantheestallionswife @magicalpeenpoo @qrxswan @silverwfern @luvhza @rozzaa0scentzz1 @azizxxxah @akiangelcanon4sure @b-bitter @shy-guy927 @icebearcucumber @hannah-banana-90210 @syerra67 @galinathepanda @tiffi26
gojo taglist: @lilfluffybunny @eyayur @fifi-reads @postcard-batteries @suyeomiiee
glasses! .✦ ݁˖
in which satoru gets glasses and his baby daughter can't recognise him! (ó﹏ò。) part 1 of my 1k celebratory series, i hope you enjoyy!!<3
content: husband!gojo x reader, dadjo fluff ♡⸝⸝ word count: 2.1k
“ta-da!”
you’re busy cutting up fruit for your daughter when you hear your husband’s voice followed by the sound of the front door clicking shut, signalling his arrival home. the familiar sound of him shrugging off his coat and making his way to the kitchen reaches your ears, and so you quickly finish up cutting the strawberries and apple slices before turning your attention to the kitchen doorway.
“hey toru—” you begin. before you can finish, however, you’re forced to cut your own words off, your eyes falling upon satoru’s face. a blank, slightly puzzled expression crosses your features.
“…since when did you have glasses?”
“since today!” he grins, slipping them off and turning them over in his hands. “nanami was saying how my eyesight has been kinda lacking recently, and i thought he had been overreacting buuut…guess he was right!” he nods his head towards the glasses in his hands with an eager smile.
sighing and rinsing your hands clean of the fruit juice, you reach forward to take the glasses into your own hands, wanting to see them for yourself. “you don’t give the poor man enough credit, you know.”
“…okay rude! i give him plenty of credit where it’s due!” he retorts. he watches with a fond expression as you hold the glasses out in front of you, your brows furrowed as you test the lenses.
“wow, satoru!” you gasp jokingly. “i always thought that you were the strongest, but it seems like your prescription is even stronger!”
that earns you one of his signature pouts, his lip jutted out dramatically as he feigns offence, snatching the glasses back from your grasp and fixing them atop his face again.
“hey! i’ll have you know that i’m plenty stronger than my prescription.”
you roll your eyes playfully before you hear the sound of soft footsteps approaching from the living room, followed by an excited squeal. you turn to see your daughter rushing into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around her father’s leg, and satoru lifts her up so that he’s holding her against his chest, face-to-face with her now.
“papa! papa come look, i made a princess castle with the big blocks and—” she cuts her words off abruptly.
what had been an excited expression — eyes blown wide and plump cheeks pulled into a huge smile — quickly turns into one of…confusion. she simply pauses and pulls her head backwards slightly to inspect him, staring blankly.
“..who are you?” she mumbles, and satoru wishes he could ignore the tone of disgust in her words. he forces out a tiny laugh.
“who am i? what do you mean, sweetheart?” he asks, sticking out his lip playfully once more. he leans forward to press a quick, teasing kiss to her nose, only for her to whine and lightly push his face away with her hand.
she turns her body in his arms so that she’s facing you, evidently having decided that the first answer wasn't satisfactory enough for her. “mama, who is he?”
the gasp that satoru lets out upon realising that she’s actually serious is comically loud. he simply stays stood there with a hurt expression, staring through thick lenses at his miniature version and looking as though she’s just scalded him.
“don’t you recognise me?” his voice has already raised an octave, tone offended, and he hastens to pull off the glasses, resolutely placing them upon the tabletop. “see, i’m your father..!” he turns to you now, eyes desperate, and it takes everything in you not to giggle. “sweets, tell her i’m her father!”
“toru, don’t be silly.” you make your way closer to where he’s stood with your daughter in his arms, pressing a quick kiss to her hair before speaking once more. “you recognise papa, right?”
“umm…” she studies his face, this time without him wearing the glasses, before nodding. “..mhm!” your daughter nods enthusiastically, a gummy smile stretching across her face once more. she extends her hands out to touch satoru’s cheeks, as though checking he’s really there in front of her. then, with a tiny satisfied nod to herself, she leans back into him, resting her head against his chest.
“papa, you looked funny.” she mumbles. you can’t help but laugh, but judging by the look on satoru’s face, the situation is anything but amusing.
“i looked…funny?” he mimics, his tone tainted with disbelief and a touch of devastation. his brows are pinched together, looking scandalised as he peers down at your daughter in his arms as she speaks.
“mhm…like different funny.”
you’re sure you can practically hear satoru’s heart shattering in that moment, his face falling completely. he stays stood there, studying your daughter’s face in silence before seeming to come to a decision, decidedly snatching his glasses off the table and inspecting them.
“then i won’t wear them.”
“what? toru, you have to!” you cut in, but his features are already set in that stubborn face that you recognise all too well.
“no — my own daughter doesn’t recognise me!” he places heavy emphasis on the word daughter, the betrayal and hurt evident in his voice. you roll your eyes, trying to hold back an exasperated sigh at his dramatics.
“satoru, you need to be able to see things — surely you’re not serious!” you protest.
“i’m super serious! never again.”
-
a tiny, foolish part of you had thought — or rather, hoped — that he’d been joking, that it was another one of his silly over-exaggerations, a dramatic declaration in the heat of the moment. except it wasn’t.
because now you’re sat watching satoru squint at his phone for the hundredth time in the past hour, his handsome features practically stuck in place now in that same, discomforted expression. you hadn’t planned on bringing up the glasses again, already expecting the conversation to be a losing battle, but after a while you’d decided that you really couldn’t bear to watch him like that anymore.
“satoru…” you begin, not knowing quite how to get through to the 6’3” child in front of you. before you can begin, however, he cuts you off, having already anticipated your concern.
“i’m fine!” he insists, defiantly as ever. you notice your daughter’s head raise from where she’s doodling with her crayons, eagerly turning her head between you and her father in interest.
“you literally can’t see properly.” you retort.
“better that than have my own daughter not recognise me..” he grumbles. “she even said i look funny!”
you bite your tongue, deciding not to argue — instead, you let him continue scrolling on his phone, noting the way he continues to struggle to read the words on screen.
the same problem seems to crop up later, too, when he’s watching a movie with your daughter. you’re comfortably curled up on the couch, a blanket thrown over your lap, meanwhile satoru and your daughter are both laying on their stomachs inside the makeshift den they’d constructed earlier. in all honesty, you’d better describe it as a mess of cushions and blankets simply propped up haphazardly — in fact, you can even see your husband’s long legs half sticking out from the back of the den.
movie nights have become a common occurrence for your little family, and it’s no secret that your husband absolutely does not take family nights lightly.
whether it’s board game nights, late-night arts and crafts sessions at the kitchen table or simply time for bedtime stories, he always goes out of his way to make sure it’s as enjoyable as possible for your daughter— and movie nights are no exception. so, in true satoru gojo fashion, the den floor is cluttered with snacks: a bowl of strawberries, a couple of mini juice cartons, some popcorn and a plate of freshly-baked brownies among others. honestly, how your daughter will make it to adulthood without developing dreadful cavities is beyond you.
they both lay there on their stomachs, brownie crumbs all over your daughter’s mouth and cheeks and a half-bitten strawberry in satoru’s free hand from when he’d been feeding her. every so often she rests her head against his shoulder, her eyes still glued to the tv screen, and during the funnier scenes of the movie she turns her head towards his, searching his face for laughter before joining in and giggling loudly.
everything about the night is perfect, except for one tiny problem. satoru can’t see.
he tries to focus his vision, tries to make out the figures of the characters on screen as best as he can, but they’re too blurry, the screen a mess of fuzzy outlines and colours.
truth be told, it probably wouldn’t matter too much anyway, considering the fact that he knows the movie inside-out from having rewatched it a million times with your daughter. but nonetheless, he keeps squinting at the screen for several minutes, trying to force himself to register what exactly he’s looking at, brows knitted in careful concentration.
unfortunately for him, however, your four year old is scarily perceptive when she wants to be. she notices his strange behaviour — the repeated eye straining, the way his lip is jutted out subconsciously in mild frustration, the tiny irritated groans that leave his throat every few minutes— before finally speaking up.
“what are you doing?” she tilts her head to the side, wide blue eyes observing her father’s face.
“nothing! just focus on the movie, okay?” he beams wide, but the look on her face tells him that she isn’t entirely convinced. she simply stares at him, studying his expression for a few seconds before seeming to have an idea.
your daughter suddenly hops up from inside the den with such haste that you jolt from your own spot on the sofa. you and satoru both turn to exchange a brief confused look, hearing the pitter-patter of her feet against the floors as she rushes through the house.
“you’re missing the movie!” your husband calls out, but it’s in vain — your daughter doesn’t respond, strangely unbothered. in any other situation she’d never miss a single second of movie night this easily. satoru fumbles with the mess of cushions and snacks on the floor before finally retrieving the remote and pausing the movie, and with a sigh, he rests his head against his palm, turning to face you.
“…wonder what she’s doing..” he mutters, and you nod in agreement.
after a few short minutes your daughter finally returns, plopping down firmly by satoru’s side and placing down his glasses case.
“papa, you need to wear these!” she says determinedly. her tone is reminiscent of your own one earlier, and the similarity makes satoru’s heart swell for a brief moment.
she struggles to open the case at first, her fingers fumbling over the box before your husband intervenes. he carefully moves her hands away so that she won’t trap her fingers, a fond smile on his face at her puffed out cheeks and her determined expression — or at least, whatever parts of those features he’s actually able to distinguish properly without his glasses on. slowly, she picks the glasses up and tries to put them onto satoru’s face, narrowly avoiding poking his eyes out in the process.
with the guidance of your husband’s hands atop hers, she manages to finally slide the glasses onto his face properly so that they’re resting atop his nose now. he blinks at the sudden change in his vision, his daughter’s soft wispy pigtails and sticky food-covered cheeks now coming into vision clearly.
it’s an odd moment for satoru, as though he’s rediscovering the sensation of being a father again. he finally feels able to pinpoint the exact position of her sweet features once more, her face in much clearly quality than ever before, and for a second he can’t remember why he’d ever refused to wear his glasses in the first place.
that is, until she seems to decide to remind him.
“yay! you don’t look too funny papa, so you can still wear them, okay?” she’s wearing a stern expression as she holds his face securely in place with both her hands, waiting for confirmation that he understands. he chuckles.
“…i don’t look too funny?” he echoes her words, a single brow raised in interest.
“yeah! you only look a little funny, so it’s okay to wear them.”
satoru can’t even find it in himself to feign offence — if anything, he laughs harder before nodding.
“okay then. thanks for the permission, sweetheart.”
author's notes: AHHH part one is finally up — i’m so sorry for the delay and i hope you guys like itt!! i’m hoping to get the rest of the parts done much faster than this one
sparkle divider creds: anitalenia

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૮(◞ ‸ ◟ )ა ;; your husband, satoru gojo, who can’t help but pout at the fact that his newborn baby girl sobs whenever she’s placed into his arms! ── ✦⋆🍼.˚
it’s been weeks of this — weeks of satoru tenderly trying to lift your frail newborn daughter from your arms, his tall frame hunched over her and his touch agonisingly gentle, only for her to burst out into tears. he just can’t comprehend it!
“it isn’t fair,” he mumbles, slumped over on the couch after yet another failed attempt at picking her up. “i mean, she has my eyes! in fact, she has all my genes, yet she won’t let me pick her up!”
his tone is scandalised, a hint of betrayal seeping into it; but beyond the usual dramatics, there’s a subtle sense of vulnerability in it too. it’s barely there, hidden behind the light-heartedness of his voice so that you almost miss it.
that’s the kind of skill that satoru has mastered by now: being able to feign confidence in the form of borderline obnoxious mock-arrogance. or rather, being able to divert any concerns you may have with a kind of ease and fluidity that’s got to be at least a little bit concerning.
but you don’t miss it this time. not with the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he stares at the floor, lost in thought. not when he looks so worn down, eroded of his usual playful demeanour, an unfamiliar tiredness written all over his body.
you can see the way his shoulders are lowered a fraction in exhaustion from the situation, and even despite his joking demeanour, you both seem to have noticed the way his voice lacked its usual charm earlier.
“hey, toru..” you murmur, sliding onto the couch next to him. your daughter is still clinging to your shirt, having only just been lulled to sleep by you. she’s finally finished bawling her eyes out at the sight of her own father. “don’t be like that…it’s nothing. she’ll grow out of it.”
“no, you don’t get it sweets! she must know something…” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i mean, whenever she looks at me with those huge blue eyes, it’s like she’s staring right through me. she must know something i don’t!” with that, he drops his head into his hands with a groan.
you’d laugh at the irony of his words if it weren’t for the defeated look on his face. of all things, you’d never expected to hear satoru gojo complaining about the unsettling nature of the piercing-blue eyes that she’d inherited from him. nonetheless, you gently move your free hand to stroke his back, your voice soft as you rub soothing circles.
“hey, no…she’ll come around soon enough.”
“but what if she doesn’t?” he looks up, pouting once more. “what if i’ve done something wrong? maybe i messed up my first impression or something!”
“…toru, don’t be silly, i don’t think newborns care about first impressions.”
he sits up slowly, assessing your words as his eyes fall once more upon the baby in your arms. her snowy eyelashes flutter slightly as she snoozes, tiny hands curled up against her body. one of her chubby cheeks rests against you as she snores, her tiny chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale she takes. tentatively, satoru brings a hand to run over her small leg, fingers running over the soft fabric of the fluffy bear socks on her feet courtesy of his impulse buying.
he snorts sadly at that, remembering the way he had been so excited to spoil her. he’d ran around, desperate to find only the very best for his sweet daughter: bags of baby toys, soft socks, cute baby outfits and pacifiers. he’d spent hours researching the quality of each, scrolling through reviews, diligently ensuring that his daughter would receive only the best — only for her to sob at the mere sight of his face.
it’s a kind of irony satoru can’t bear. because ultimately, in the eyes of the newborn in your arms, he’s no longer satoru gojo. he’s simply…nothing. stripped of being the strongest, stripped of his usual defence mechanism of feigned-confidence, stripped of his ability to win her over with expensive toys and clothes. he’s left vulnerable, stuck with the discomfort of it all. maybe he isn’t cut out for this. maybe he isn’t cut out for fatherhood.
you study his face, frowning at the way his brows are pinched and his features have melted into something much more vulnerable, tired. he looks deep in thought, barely registering the fact that one of his legs is tapping anxiously. he just stays sat there, eyes absentmindedly resting upon your daughter, zoned out.
your heart aches a little. it’s a strange sight, to see your usually-bold husband reduced to this unfamiliar state, hands tensed in his lap like he’s not sure what to do with himself.
so, you decide to take action yourself.
tenderly, you lift your daughter and quietly place her into satoru’s arms, silently willing her not to wake just yet. you’re not quite sure how you or your poor husband will cope if she does — and the idea of having to lull her back to sleep whilst simultaneously looking into satoru’s face of pure disappointment is one you’re not particularly fond of.
the second the baby is in his arms, satoru tenses up, thrown off-guard for a moment at the sudden action. however he then slowly begins to pull her closer to his chest, arms cradling her more securely now. it’s a bit awkward at first, because for once your poor husband hasn’t had a chance to prepare himself to hold her: no half an hour pep talk in the mirror as usual, no rubbing vanilla baby lotion into his hands before attempting to hold her — after all, apparently the scent of vanilla is soothing to young babies. hours of extensive research and a couple of youtube tutorials on how not to make your newborn daughter cry have taught him that much, at least.
much to his surprise, though, despite his total lack of preparation this time around, she seems to warm up to his touch immediately. despite being fast asleep, she nuzzles her tiny cheek against his chest a little, angling her head just a fraction inwards towards his warmth.
sure, maybe they’re just baby steps, if you can even call them that. but for the first time since his sweet daughter was born, satoru has actually been able to hold her without being subjected to sobs and screams. he tries to fight a tiny smile, and your heart flutters at the sight.
he stays stood there in silence, eyes crinkled in fondness as he peers down at the sleeping girl in his arms, cradling her like she’s precious. and after a few minutes of standing like that, a single, tiny tear begins to form in the corner of his eye, not quite falling yet. it stays there for a few seconds, clinging to soft dove-white lashes before the salty water finally rolls down his face, just barely brushing over the edge of his cheek.
with a tiny sniff, gojo quickly manages to recover his composure, letting his typical confident grin return back onto his features and simultaneously trying to pretend that his eyes aren’t currently going blurry with the threat of fresh, brand-new tears.
“ah— i knew it, so you do like me..!” he chokes out a weak laugh as he addresses the sleeping newborn, his voice half-subdued in a poor attempt at being quiet so as not to wake her. he dramatically crooks his head downwards, his ear right up next to your daughter’s face as though trying to ensure he can hear her better before he speaks up again. “…soo, this means that i’m the favourite parent, right??”
the nerve of him!
a/n: filler post sorry if the writing quality is poor i just wanted to post something💔 the idea came to me thanks to a dad sukuna fic i saw so creds to them!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) taglist: @nonchalantfiend @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @hearts2vivi @mariisagb @renrenrenren17 @bowiesprettieststar2 @733164 @palanggaaa @megssleepygirl @rengoatku @hangenism @yujisdreamgirl @nonamedreams @ivankinnieclatter @sugerfilled @silverstar111 @dreamyreadinglover @v4mp1r3b4tzz @dev1lw4arsprada @megantheestallionswife @magicalpeenpoo @qrxswan @silverwfern @luvhza @rozzaa0scentzz1 @azizxxxah @eyayur @strawberrychansora @qrxswan + join!
divider creds @/dividers-are-us and @/cursed-carmine!
Sweetest pie 𑣲.
— ᨳଓ . “ou this the ride of your life, hold on cause baby i might, i might just give you a bite of the sweetest pie!”
— ᨳଓ . gojo just being a loving overly going boyfriend 🫰🏼 (a little bit of a loser)
— ᨳଓ tw- suggestive themes !
do NOT bma, the times are mixed up. i wanna share this edit i cried to earlier
I won't go into art school Im telling you im too much of a scaredy cat to pass my brain wont load when there
emo megumi
blesses u with sleepy megumi
Megumi x gn reader
Ummmm yeah just fluff basically and a bunch of it
Wc: 700
It was such a tiring mission. You and Megumi had to get up at 4 in the morning with Ijichi to drive you to the train station, ride the bullet train for 4 hours, then ride another train for an hour, then fight the curse which had been incorrectly graded. The assignment said grade 3, but it was absolutely grade 2, maybe even semi-grade 1. Hours of your lives wasted on hunting the curse, losing it, chasing it through a forest, then losing it AGAIN. Rinse and repeat this process a few more times.
You didn't get home until well into the late afternoon, bordering on evening. Safe to say the second you both set foot on school grounds you went straight to your room and in bed. Megumi in tow of course.
"Oh my godddddd I feel disgusting." You whine as you kick the door shut behind you.
"Then go take a shower." Megumi is already grabbing a set of pajamas out of the drawer you kept dedicated to his spare clothing.
"I'm so tired, though," you flop yourself face down on the mattress and kick your shoes off, letting them fly wherever on the floor.
"Shower or I'm going upstairs to my room." He says sternly. It's kind of cute.
"I promise I'm not gross, I just wanna sleep." You groan into your thick blanket. You feel Megumi staring holes into the back of your head.
"You're pretty gross." He opens the door, but you manage to get the last word in before he shuts it behind him.
"All I heard was pretty!"
You roll over and slide onto the floor, sighing. You aren't gross, but the idea of standing for 10 more minutes feels like the equivalent of chopping your legs off. Your joints groan and complain as you force yourself to get up and leave for the showers.
When you return with wet hair and soft cotton pajamas, Megumi has already made himself comfortable on your bed. Sitting up against the headboard with an arm tucked under his neck, his shirt riding up and showing the perfect amount of stomach, and long legs stretched out over the sheets while he scrolls mindlessly through his phone. He's so handsome it physically pains you.
"What?" He looks in your direction once with only narrowed eyes before going back to his phone. You blush and turn to hang your towel and toss your nasty uniform in the basket.
"No-" you pause to clear your throat, "nothing."
"Right." He says sarcastically.
He lifts his arm as you climb into bed with him, wrapping it around you as you settle halfway on top of him, draping your legs over his and getting lost in the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your head.
"Can we talk about how stupid today was?"
"In the morning. I wanna sleep." He turns off his phone and sets it on the nightstand.
"Whatever." You groan as you nuzzle into the warmth of his chest.
You reach over and turn off the lamp as Megumi scoots down the bed, dragging you with him. He pulls up the blanket and threads his fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. You feel your eyelids start to droop, but you still fumble for the tv remote and turn it on, wincing together at the brightness.
"What do you wanna watch?" You ask as you adjust the brightness for the dark room, even though the faded blue of early twilight still peaks through the edges of the curtains.
"Nothing? Go to sleep." He tries to pry your head away from the tv and further into his chest, but fails.
"I just need background noise, you snore."
"Pardon?" Megumi looks genuinely offended when you look up at him.
"You do. It's like hoooonk mimimimimimi hoooonk mimimimimimimi" you burst into unrestrained laughter when he shoves your head away to shut you up.
"Shut up and go to sleep." He snatches the tv remote and turns it off, the room returning to darkness.
"Oh come-" he slaps a hand over your mouth, lovingly, of course, despite your grumbling.
"Sleeeeep." He says quietly, shutting his eyes and running his fingers up and down your arm.
Instead of saying anything else, you decide to quit messing with him and just melt in his touch. The gentle thumping of his heart below your ear is like a gentle lullaby, paired with his fingers gently tracing vague patterns on your arm, you're down for the count within minutes.
Ok I'm gonna run away now thanks bye
Also someone tell me how to make my blog pretty cuz this is NOT it

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doing megumi’s hair for the first time was not for the weak.
ever since he asked you out— which was really just a string of mumbles with him clutching a bouquet— you were determined to try to tame that spiky head of his.
however, there was one problem that he failed to mention..
“megumi,” you say firm, holding your comb, trying— and failing— to brush his hair flat against his forehead.
“..yes” he responds flatly, sitting in your chair and looking over his shoulder to look at you, waiting for your response.
“when were you going to tell me that your was hair actually like that?”
he pauses for a second, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
you twist his chair back, both of you now facing your mirror. he now clearly sees his hair, which after ten minutes of you brushing fervently, still looks.. exactly the same.
“like this,” you try to brush his hair all the way against his forehead, clearly exasperated, and once you remove your hand, his hair just poofs back up, almost like an anime character.
“like that.”
“like it always looks?” he responds, almost clueless as what you could be referring to.
“we thought that you styled it like this! and that you use copious amounts of gel..” you murmur, playing with his hair, trying to figure out this mystery.
he stops for a second, then suddenly whips his head around to look at you straight in the eye,
“fym we?”
oops.
hi! this is my first post, im so happy to be here!! ^.^
constructive criticism is welcome! im looking for ways to improve:)
please give me advice..
Yuka's shadow
"ryo. can't sleep," you whisper into your boyfriend's ear whose eyes are shut close under the comfort of your duvet. he was serious when he texted about coming over at this late hour just to sleep in your bed. he's been complaining about having trouble falling asleep lately. along with his endless admissions how he sleeps better in your bed.
you on the other hand didn't expect his arrival at all. you've taken a short nap hours ago, woke up, took a shower, chugged half can of energy drink, and set up your study materials for an all-nighter for the upcoming exams.
so you really shouldn't bother him like this. when he arrived, he simply understood your plan for the rest of the night and promised he won't bother your studying session. he pecked your forehead and marched straight into you bedroom without another word.
not even an hour later, you saw how comfortable and cuddly and warm he looks on your bed, sleeping. effortlessly inviting you to come back to bed, how perfect would it be to slip under the covers and worm your way home against his chest. to make matters worse, resisting the imagination of his arms winding around your person is never your strongest trait.
he hums, stirred awake by your voice. he blindly reaches for your arm out of habit. "weren't you going to stay up?" he asks sleepily, the bed dips under his weight as he scoots over to make space.
"yeah but then you came and it's almost rude how comfy you look sleeping without me."
his arms around you tighten a fraction as he places a chaste kiss under your jaw, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as his breathing slows down again. "so sleep. we can study together at the library after class tomorrow."
you can do that. even if your brain is still wide awake from that one can you drink, you know a trick that can shut off your mind effectively. which is exactly what sukuna's doing right now, embracing you closely. corded arms around your torso. the warmth radiating off his body works like a lullaby every time.
"kinda unable to sleep right now though.."
"yeah no shit you drank a can." his palm moves in a circle across your spine. he's not opposed to you wanting to fall asleep with him.
in fact, he welcomes and prefers it because having you close all night always makes his sleep feel like a spiritual reset. "jus' close your eyes," he instructs. his own already sealed too. "count all the sheep in ya head."
you sigh and allow yourself to relax with images of sheep jumping over a fence in your head. with sukuna continuing rubbing your back.
10 sheep, 11 sheep, 12 sheep.. sukuna's sheep.. this is actually effective.
he observes the way your breath slows down, completely lax against him now, your eyelids drooping as seconds pass.
"how many sheep?"
you don't answer. well that was quick he thinks.
sukuna himself is one wink away from sleeping. he stops his movement altogether and lets darkness consume his sleep again, this time much better with you at his side.
© ryoses 2026
i luv it when people draw megumi with piercings ESP LIP PIERCINGS
"Love is for the weak."
Double lifed Sukuna x fem!reader
1st Art by @/sukufalke0512 on X; 2nd art by @/Arrja_ on X
Summary. Unckuna doesn't need love. He really doesn't. He just works as a stupid mafia boss or whatever the fuck and has a double life. Basically, he's like Gru – on one side, he's an big and always angry mafia while on the other he's a softie who spends most of the time with his nephews. After he meets you, a girl who simply works in a café right next to his company, he suddenly asks himself — "Am I weak because I'm in love?"
Genre. Oneshot because I'm a fucker n I suck at multi chapters.
Tags. Slowburn, really slow burn, (semi-)strangers to lovers, double lifed Sukuna(unckuna and mafiakuna idk), swearing, sukuna is fucking dirty(he isn't FUCKING dirty, he's fucking DIRTY), love at first sight, mentions of high school love, sukuna was your bully in college, sukuna in his 30's, reader in early 30's/late 20's, kissing, yuji falling in love with you ay first sight, choso and sukuna fighting(canon), jin being the smartest of em all, mentions of pregnancy(twins...), more to be added idk
Author notes. This...is going to be written VERY slowly because I'm stupid and I have school exams for three weeks in a row😝
Bye this is my 1st popular post....GOONERS.
I STARTED WRITING THIS I SWEAR....OK....

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Adoring your body, but better
author notes. this has me in TEARS im trying not to die ok guys??
warnings. boobs obsessed sukuna, semi oc x canon, my au, post-shibuya accident (sukuna is alive lmao), sukuna himself
additional tags. oc x canon basically, dividers by @cafekitsune , based on my old post (i still hate it.)
The sunlight went through the cracks of the dark curtains that covered the huge window. That same sun has been starting to settle and wake up everyone who was still asleep. In this situation, we have a pretty curse and one ugly curse that’s sleeping next to the pretty one. The pretty one’s eyes slowly opened, her mouth then opening in a quiet yawn. She turned around only to face the uglier curse. She smiled as she wanted to sit up on the shared king-sized bed, but something was holding her. She felt an arm around her waist, holding her tightly. The uglier curse was holding her in his sleep. “Ryomen,” the prettier curse whispered as she tried to wake up the uglier one, whose name was Ryomen. Ryomen grumbled something as he was still asleep, his arm tightening around the prettier curse’s waist. She rolled her eyes as she gently took his arms in her pale hand and tried to take him off her, but failed eventually. He growled this time as he opened his eye, a dark red pupil watching her. The prettier curse’s eyes widened, taken aback by Ryomen’s sudden awaking. “Woman, let me sleep for damn’s sake.” This uglier curse muttered as he turned around, freeing the prettier curse. “You should sleep too, Kitsune. It’s too early for this.” He said as he sighed, his eyes closing again. The prettier curse whose name was Kitsune shook her head before her hand went to Ryomen’s shoulder.
Ryomen melted into her touch for a few seconds before Kitsune did something evilish. “Wake up, dummy!” She whisper-shouted as she shook his shoulders. Ryomen didn’t move; his eyebrows only furrowed at Kitsune’s annoying thing. He suddenly grabbed her arms and pinned her down, her back hitting the soft mattress. Kitsune gasped, taken aback by the sudden change. Ryomen’s face looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes. He was definitely tired and not in the mood. “Do that again, woman, and I shall burn you to ashes.” Ryomen threatened, his dark red eyes glowing under the sunlight that hit them perfectly. Kitsune rolled her eyes as she sighed. “Whatever. Why’re you so clingy though?” Kitsune noticed Ryomen’s eyes watching her naturally huge breasts.
Now you may wonder how and why the Ryomen Sukuna is alive?
Did he come back like William Afton, who spoke aftonly? (crazy reference)
Well, you thought about everything, but the truth.
“Sukuna….” Kitsune said his name while she chuckled, because she followed his gaze. Ryomen- I mean, Sukuna huffed into Kitsune’s face but didn’t move, though. Kitsune sighed as she wiggled her arms, but Sukuna’s grip around them only tightened. Kitsune’s yellow eyes looked at Sukuna’s red ones, their eyes locking for a minute, creating a quiet moment.
Let’s say that this Kitsune found Sukuna while he was still that ugly blob thing.
How? Well, easy. Let’s tell this long story short.
Kitsune was walking through the quiet depths of Shibuya while it was still dark. A few people are outside, and teenagers are having fun. Silly. Though then, she went into a small, the most quiet street. As she was walking through, she saw something moving in the corner of her eye. She quickly pulled out her katana and showed it to whatever was in the corner. She then took a soft step. Then another one. Another one, until she was just a few centimeters away from the wall. She looked down as something touched her leg. It was… something blobby and disgusting. She bent down to see the thing better, and as the light hit it… Kitsune’s eyes widened slightly at that moment. She couldn’t believe it. Was it…? THE KING OF CURSES?? But he was a blob? Even the Pou looks better, pfft. Kitsune smiled at herself as those thoughts went around her head. She picked Sukuna up in her arms, and he automatically leaned into her. Into her chest, actually. Kitsune raised an eyebrow at the clingy King of Curses. Well, he probably missed himself and wished for someone he knew to find him… maybe.
Now, he’s still holding Kitsune’s arms, and his gaze is still on her chest. Sigh…. He’s never looking away. From gazillion years to now, he had never seen such a big chest. Suddenly, after minutes of watching, he huffed to himself as he lowered his head between her two big balloons. Kitsune’s eyes widened as her breath hitched, taken aback by Sukuna’s sudden movement. No one said anything. Sukuna’s grip on Kitsune’s arms softened, and he leaned into her body without any further words. He was lying on top of her, completely frozen but warm. One of Kitsune’s hands went to Sukuna’s head, her fingers interlocking with his hair locks. Sukuna exhaled through his nose as his eyes closed. Kitsune smiled.
“Who knew that the King of Curses would be this clingy?”
“Shut up and sleep.”
author notes. im CRinE rn cuz of that reference too but cuz of the whole damn fic...im working on nerds, nerds and other megumi fics dwdw guys
taglist(only for ocxcanon) @brookaroo