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seeingivy · 1 year

Text

donuts

megumi fushiguro x f!reader

content: IMPLIED MANGA SPOILERS, hormonal pregnant reader, dad!megs, gojo being a dad to megumi

an: dad gojo this, dad gojo that. WHAT ABOUT DAD MEGUMI. anyways im sick and I am 90% sure I have covid but alas I spit this out before I study. it's like a reward.

recently, megumi has been letting things happen.

and by recently, he means two years ago, when his little star boy was born. or even at large, five years ago, when he met you, his sun. an fellow sorcerer who he easily fell for, like it was something inevitable. something necessary, involuntary even - like it was the air he breathed or his heart beating.

and since then he’s been letting things happen. he’s been letting gojo come around - so that he can spend time with ash. so that ash can have a grandfather, not that megumi would ever say that out loud.

he lets nobara and yuuji spoil him rotten, lets maki teach him self-defense (which is just swatting at this point), and yuuta explain the rules of chess to him for hours even though ash barely has coordinated motor functions.

he lets things happen. especially when ash asks him, the pouty face that he’s entirely gotten from you pressed on his face. like today, when he feels a little fist tugging on the end of his shirt.

“yes, ash?”

“i want donuts.”

megumi squints, like he’s questioning him. every bit his son, ash has fully inherited the full breadth of megumi’s dna - dark hair, green eyes. but every one of his expressions, those are all all you.

“ash.”

“yes?”

“do you want donuts or does mommy want donuts?”

ash stands there for a few seconds, deep in thought, before answering.

“sticky wants donuts!”

megumi sighs, picking him up and dragging him out of the room with him, to find the culprit of this entire plot - you. that deliberation means that ash was trying to remember what it was you had told him. and truly, only you would use his unborn daughter against him.

he finds you splayed on the couch, a heating pad pressed into the small of your back, as you talk, directed down to your stomach to tsumiki. or sticky, as ash calls her since he can’t pronounce all the syllables just yet.

“megs?”

“yeah?”

“i thought of a name for her.”

megumi leans against the counter, half turned away from you, where he watches gojo and ash snuggled up on the couch, ash excitedly explaining the plot of his current favorite movie to gojo. gojo’s all too absorbed, though he does get offended every time ash says that elsa is cooler than him. and even more offended that when gojo calls elsa pretty, ash says that elsa would never like him.

“well. ash is our little star boy. his name is perfect for him. and you’re my blessing so megumi is perfect for you. but our little girl-”

you reach forward for his hand, placing it on top of your teeny tiny bump, which just started protruding, as you squeeze his hand.

“she’s precious. she’s our only girl and, and she’s so gentle already. ash was a little heathen, always kicking and excited in there. but she’s so soft, i already know she’s special. she should have a name that reflects that.”

megumi reaches up, cupping the side of your face, where tears are now sprouting out of your eyes. one of megumi’s favorite things about you being pregnant, besides the disgusting concoctions you eat because of your cravings, is this. your out of whack hormones that have your lip jutting out, that little whiny, cute pout he fell in love with on your face at all times.

“what’s the name, sweetheart?”

“tsumiki.” you whispers.

you look up at his green eyes, wide and filled with an emotion that you can’t quite discern. and you can feel the immediate panic at the reaction and try to backtrack as fast as you can. surely, he’s simmering with rage under there.

why would you name your daughter after his dead sister?

“megs. i-i just thought it would be nice because i never got to meet her and i know she was special to you. i’m not saying she’s replacing her, but i just-”

megumi puts his hand on your mouth, his finger brushing across your soft lips, as he pushes you into his embrace, hugging so hard he’s sure even the baby, tsumiki, must be feeling it. he holds you there for a while, not saying much, as his hands rub into the small of your back.

and you wait for it, because you know megumi like the back of your hand. touch first, words second. and right on cue, minutes later, you hear it, the soft whisper on your skin that makes your cheeks burn.

“my tsumiki would have really loved you, you know that?”

you look up from the conversation you were having with tsumiki - telling her that she always has to side with you and ash instead of megumi - to find him standing there, glaring at you.

“hello, love of my life.” you say, tapping the spot on the couch next to you.

megumi takes the seat, trying to hide the smile on his face, as he gives you a suspicious look. he places a kiss to your temple before placing his hand over your bump, something he does every time he walks into the room. it’s his way of saying hello to her.

“sweetheart.”

“yes, megs?”

“ash is telling me that sticky wants donuts.”

“stickyyy does want donuts. and ash does too.” you respond, giving him your best smile.

“you know, if you want something from me, you don’t have to use my son and my unborn child against me to get it.”

“how dare you bring tsumiki into this. she wants donuts, that’s why i’m craving them. take it up with her.”

ash crawls into the space between you two, resting his head in your lap and his legs in megumi’s as he reaches forward to tickle his sides, eliciting a screaming laugh from ash who is begging him to stop. you smack megumi’s hands off, running your hands through ash’s dark black locks as he calms down and looking at megumi. you pinch ash’s side a little, giving him a non-discrete wink.

“daddy. I really want donuts.”

“oh im sure you do ash. i’ll go get them” megumi responds, swinging his legs off and standing up.

“can i come?” ash asks, excitedly wrapping his hands around his knees.

“buddy. it’s nap time. you have to sleep.”

ash juts his lower lip out, mustering the frowniest face he can, as his little green eyes look up into megumi’s. and of course, he immediately gives in, because he can never say no to his little star boy.

“fine. get your shoes.”

ash turns excitedly to you, giving you a grinning smile.

“did i do good, mama?”

“perfect, star boy. just like i taught you.”

ash excitedly runs off as megumi gives you a soul crushing glare, which you pointedly ignore. the two of them shuffle out of the apartment, the smile spreading across your face as you watch megumi swing ash onto his back to close the door.

an hour later, megumi walks into his apartment to find you, yuuji, nobara, and gojo on his couch. the three of you are crouched over the table and he can see that your face is all pink, surely from crying.

ash runs into the apartment, taking turns giving everyone a big hug, before climbing into gojo’s lap, and reaching up to play with gojo’s hair. megumi sets the box of donuts down and takes the seat next to you, wiping the wetness away on your cheek.

“hi y/n.” he whispers.

“h-hi megs.” you whisper back, interlocking your hands with his to squish.

he smiles as he reaches for the box of donuts, equipping you with the maple bar he knows you’ve been craving, as he watches you nearly inhale it in five seconds.

“god. you’re like a vacuum.” nobara says, a horrified look on her face.

“s-not me. miki.” you respond, now pounding through your donut.

“are you really blaming it on your unborn daughter?” nobara asks.

“she blames everything on her. yesterday, she made me come all the way out here just to hand her the remote because it was too far away. claimed that the baby really wanted to see me at that second.” megumi deadpans, earning laughs from the group of them.

“she did.” you respond, defensively.

megumi leans his arm against the back of where you’re sitting, twisting one of your locks of hair in his fingers. he looks over at the table to find an array of colorful ribbons on the table, which he’s sure is the culprit of your crying since the baby section at target always works you up.

“what’s that?” he asks.

“nobara and yuuji gifted us a ribbon set for the baby. we can use it when tsumiki’s hair gets long, do little ponytails in her hair and put cute little ribbons in them.” you respond.

megumi can feel his throat constricting at the thought of it, the wave of emotions that have been resurfacing lately reaching his cheeks. he gives gojo a look and you a kiss on the cheek, before he stands up and heads to the kitchen, focused on brewing a cup of coffee for himself.

you frown as you watch him walk away, nobara and yuuji halfheartedly asking him if he’s okay as he waves them off. you turn to gojo, giving him an inquisitive look, as gojo places ash in between nobara and yuuji.

“is he okay?” you whisper.

“let me talk to him first.” he responds, giving you a reassuring smile. you watch gojo run off behind him, the two of them leaning against the counter as they talk in hushed voices.

“it’s the ribbons isn’t it?” gojo asks, watching ash play rock paper scissors with an overly enthusiastic yuuji from afar.

megumi doesn’t respond, instead focusing on stirring the spoon through the coffee he freshly brewed.

of course, it’s the ribbons.

after gojo took tsumiki and megumi in, megumi made it a point to not ask gojo for much. a facet of his childhood stubbornness, of course. though gojo was more than willing to throw his money in any direction, megumi was in no part receptive to that. except in april, when tsumiki’s birthday came around.

after watching her stare at ribbons in windows as they passed, complimenting strangers on the train on how pretty ribbons looked in ponytails, megumi made it a point that when he could, he would buy them for her. god forbid, she would never get them for herself.

so he asked gojo, awkwardly knocked on his door well after bedtime and shyly asked. and of course, gojo never disappoints, buying every color, array, fabric of ribbons for tsumiki to wear in her hair to school now. and he watched her do it a hundred times - the satisfied smile she gave herself in the mirror every time it fell perfectly before walking away.

and the thought of watching his daughter, being the one putting the ribbons in her hair and getting that little smile on her face, is too much for megumi at the current moment.

“don’t ask dumb questions, gojo.” he responds.

he turns around to face the same way as gojo now, watching the four of you have the most intense rock paper scissors battle he’s seen yet. granted, you’re all letting ash win but trying to predict his moves gets more difficult as time goes on.

“did y/n tell you what we’re naming her?” megumi asks.

“no.”

“tsumiki.” he responds, not missing the soft smile on gojo’s face.

gojo smiles, squeezing megumi’s shoulder. one of the nice things about megumi becoming a father is that he finally understands gojo’s frustrations. of what it feels like to see your kids in pain and not being able to do anything about it.

“not my idea, by the way. all y/n.”

gojo focuses in on you, on how you look over and give megumi a big smile which he returns, before focusing back on ash.

“i guess these things always have a way of working themselves out, megumi.”

“what do you mean?”

gojo inhales, twisting his sunglasses in his fingers before placing them in his pocket.

“tsumiki always had a way of reading your mind. every time you and i would argue, she was always the one who soothed you down and not me. i-i was never really good at that. and you lost her but you got y/n. and she does it for you now. ash does too. i-it just worked out megs, that’s all.”

and megumi looks over - at his sun, his star boy, and soon to be the most precious thing he’s ever had. and he knows that gojo is right. That he’s been letting things happen lately, because that insurmountable heaviness that’s been on his chest for years has finally been lifted. that it’s there, but he can breathe through it now.

not that he would ever tell gojo. he'll just enjoy a donut with his coffee instead.

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seeingivy · 1 year

Text

mastermind

satoru gojo x f!reader

in which you confess to satoru that your meeting wasn’t accidental

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

You massage the serum into your face, the tips of your fingers soothing your cheek muscles - sore from smiling all night. Your boyfriend, no fianceé, Satoru, had taken you to a gala tonight, hosted by his filthy rich parents and their even worse friends.

You knew he wasn’t a big fan of the scene, his parents strict, cold, more demeaning than most. How their son turned out to be a literal manifestation of sunshine shocks you every time you meet them again.

After spilling coffee on him and then running into you at the dorms the next day, he said your warmth, after a lifetime of cold, drew you to him. A smile glued on your face, your hair glowing in the sun, your eyes always sparkling when you talked to him.

“You’re the sun. To me anyways, angel.”

You close the bottle of the serum, staring down at the engagement ring Satoru had given you a few months prior. It was simple - a sparkling diamond surrounded by a simple gold band. Your love was warm, consistent, steady. Satoru said the ring reflected that, like the moon on a dark night. He was always corny like that, calling you the sun, the moon, the stars in between.

However, you didn’t miss Satoru’s aunt, Camilla, commenting that it was a little too dull for her liking. Satoru’s cousin, Yuki, had gotten his wife Diana a solitaire. You didn’t miss her twin sister, Cassandra, saying Satoru knew you were a gold digger, hence the need for the cheap ring, either. Satoru angrily shuffled you away before you could hear more.

Their comments didn’t bother you. Satoru hated his parents, his family, the so-called “clan” they clung to. If they were of little importance to Satoru, they were of little importance to you. What did bother you was what Satoru had said tonight.

He had pulled you aside, leading you to the balcony. You could feel him crushing you from behind, his chin resting against the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, angel.”

“Not your fault, ‘Toru. Let them talk.”

He turns you around, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You figure this is less about you, but more about how frustrated Satoru can get with his family. You lean into his touch, rubbing circles into the small of his back. You feel him deflate against you at the motion, his forehead resting against your collarbone.

“They’re wrong. We both know we met by fate.”

“What?”

“You know. You know you spilled coffee one day and then coincidentally saw me in the dorms the next day. That’s fate, angel. Invisible string, soulmates, fate. I always knew you were the one after that.”

You pale against him, still clutched in his embrace. Fate? That wasn’t fate. And it wasn’t really an accident either.

“Angel, come to bed already. I miss you.”

His voice throws you out of your thoughts, the underlying uneasiness in your chest still there. You grunt in response, leaving the bathroom and climbing into the sheets next to him. You see a smile spread over his face at the sight of you finally joining him and feel your heart twinge. Were you really lying to him? Would he hate you if you told him the truth?

He opens up his arms, inviting you to rest against his bare chest. You nestle into his arms, your cheek pressed against his sternum. You can hear his heart beating faintly against your ear, his eyes fluttering shut. But you had to tell him. He deserved to know.

“Satoru?”

“Yes, angel?”

“Do you really think we met by fate?” you whisper.

He sits up, his hand cradling the side of your face.

“Of course we did, silly girl.”

“But what if it wasn’t a coincidence?”

He quirks his eyebrows, peering down into your eyes. You sit up, pulling away from him on the bed. He mimics your motion, his eyes bordering on concern as he looks into yours.

“What if I told you it wasn’t an accident that I spilled coffee on you? Or that you saw me in the dorms the next day?”

“What?”

“I saw you in the coffee shop. Every day, for two weeks. I liked you. You always got the same sugary drink and apologized for asking for so many add ons, tipped extra even if they were annoyed with you, and paid for the person behind you on Friday’s. So I spilled the coffee on you. On purpose.”

The look on his face is blank. No smile, no anger, just nothing. Fuck.

“And then. I found your dorm. I was a Resident Advisor so I checked for you on the system. I knew your name was Satoru from the cup of the coffee so I searched through all of the Satoru’s until I found you. I paced your hallway till you eventually left your dorm and saw me.”

He hops off the bed, moving towards the dresser you had placed to the side of your bed. No. No. You hop off, rushing to his side.

“Satoru, I- I wasn’t trying to be creepy, I just really cared. I knew you were the one when I saw you.”

He shuffles through the drawers, looking for something in them. What’s he looking for? His keys? Is he going to leave? He turns to face you, the blank look still plastered on his face.

“It’s just. No one wanted to play with me as a little kid. And no one picked me for school dances or wanted to talk to me at parties. I knew you wouldn’t come to me so I’d have to come to you. I schemed like that because I had to. I promise I wasn’t after you or your money or anything. I just really wanted you and only you.”

You’re not sure when you started crying, but he reaches forward, his fingers wiping the tears off the side of your cheeks. You don’t miss the small smile spreading across his face. He presses your face against his chest, crushing you in a hug once again.

“Always the crybaby, huh?”

“Hm?”

“I already knew that angel.”

“Knew what?”

“I knew that you did all that. Spilled the coffee on purpose. Came to my dorm the next day.”

Oh my god. This bastard knew the entire time. And he’s smiling about it? He lifts your hand up and places a light blue post-it note in your hand, your handwriting staring back at you.

Satoru Gojo. Glass Hall, Room 210.

You remember the note now. After looking him up on the database, you scribbled the room number onto the post-it note so you could double check that you were near the right room.

“You left that in my room when I let you in to get my number. You know, after you gave that whole winded talk about how crazy it was that we saw each other again?”

You stick your forehead against his chest, embarrassed that you were that obvious from the start. He knew from the second you met him and kept talking to you anyways. You can feel him laughing, his hands finding their way to your hair.

“Sorry, ‘Toru. Ruined your whole red string of fate fantasy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s not really fate is it? I was plotting like some mastermind over here to end up with you.”

He laughs, squishing your face in his hands. You can feel your eyes still puffy from when you were crying earlier, your eyelashes wet from your tears.

“You’re so dramatic. Mastermind?”

“Shut up.”

“It’s still fate, angel. You just….pulled on the red string to get me next to you faster, that’s all.”

“That’s not how it works, Satoru.” you deadpan.

“Okay, I’ll just mention how you were a stalker in my vows instead.”

You frown, embarrassed at the fact that Satoru knew the entire time but that he could now tell other people too.

“Oh my god, calm down angel. It’s cute that you did that. Really.”

“I didn’t want to be creepy, I just knew when I saw you.” you whisper.

“And I knew when you left that in my room. Trust me. I knew the entire time.”

“I thought you were going to leave me if I told you.”

“You, unfortunately, are stuck with me. Even stalking me won’t chase me away.”

He smiles, leading you to climb back into the covers. You nestle in his arms once again, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. Only he would find your intensity endearing. Maybe he was made for you.

You and Satoru make your rounds, thanking everyone for coming to your wedding. The event was small, hosted in Nanami’s garden with just twenty people in attendance. Satoru’s family was not invited, much to their dismay.

After talking to Satoru’s students from the college, you can feel your energy dying down, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard, talking so much, being the center of attention.

Sensing your tiredness, Satoru drags you by the hand, to the end of the garden, towards the entrance of the hall. Propped up against the door is a white board, made by Nobara and Maki who said you simply had to have one of these at your wedding.

The board is covered with pictures of you and Satoru - studying at the coffee shop, making breakfast together, getting engaged. But there was a new addition to the board, one you’re almost positive wasn’t there two hours ago.

“I had it added. Don’t get mad, but I really do think it’s cute.”

At the center of the board, Satoru had tied your little post-it note to the board with a piece of red string. Corny idiot. You turn to him, feigning an angry look.

“Satoru.”

“Oh, don’t be mad angel.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not sure why it upsets you so much. I love it. And you.”

You crawl under his arms, burrowing yourself in his embrace.

“You owe me. This is still embarrassing.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make it up to you the rest of your life, don’t you worry.”

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist