#dad!toji fluff

[fushihearts]

when baby megumi wipes off dad!toji's kisses 𑣲 .✦ ݁˖ ۶ৎ content: fluff, husband!toji x reader, baby megumi, reader as mamaguro if you want, domestic toji | wc 971

you're sat cross-legged on the living room floor, the tv light casting hazy flickers across the room. to your left sits toji, leaning backwards propping himself up with his arm, your son's head propped against his chest. megumi blinks sleepily, long lashes batting slowly as he tries to watch the movie on screen, his head nodding up and down every so often in a drowsy attempt not to drift off. one of his hands is clenched into a tiny fist, clasping tightly onto toji's t-shirt, black spiky hair pressed against the fabric as he rests his head.

unfinished popcorn lays abandoned in a bowl off to the side, pillows scattered from the makeshift fort you and megumi had tried to assemble earlier to watch the movie in. laying amongst the mess of pillows lies two wolf plushies, each with soft fur in colours of deep black and ivory-white each.

you’d spent the majority of the evening in the fort with megumi, watching as he demonstrated a shadow puppet wolf with his chubby hands, lip jutted out and face set in concentration with the most seriousness you think you’ve ever seen in a three year old. you’d watched patiently before following his example, making your own shadow puppet dog. his eyes had widened in a look of subtle pride before he quickly got to his feet and shuffled over to the kitchen to demonstrate the shadow puppet to his father.

clearly worn out now, megumi yawns against toji’s chest, subconsciously curling further into his dad’s warmth, and you smile to yourself at the tiny notion. your eyes flicker up to toji’s, and you’re sure you see his own gaze soften as he watches the action, your husband’s jagged, tired features seeming to erode around the edges into something warmer, more gentle.

meeting your gaze, he smiles, the scar on his lip tilting upwards in a kind of weighted contentment. he’d always felt terrifyingly new to fatherhood: unfit for it, like he was filling in a space he didn’t quite know how to exist in, urging himself to fulfil a father role he’d never quite been able to know himself.

toji moves his other arm to rest around the boy’s back, touch surprisingly tender, rubbing soft circles into his back as megumi blinks, barely half-awake. you lean in from where you’re sat before softly speaking, careful not to startle him too much.

“…gumi, let’s get you to bed, okay?”

you pull yourself up off the floor as toji pulls megumi away from his chest. the boy blinks, slightly disoriented and still somewhat drowsy as toji helps him stand upright so that he can walk to your side. he picks up one of the dog plushies off the floor, trying and failing to stifle a yawn with his small fist. you smile, using a hand to ruffle the inky mess of dark spikes on his head.

“do you want to say goodnight to your dad first?”

the three year old nods sleepily, shuffling his way back to toji and slowly extending his arms in a tiny, almost shy attempt at a hug. toji smiles, pulling him in tight as your son winces, lip pushed out and brows furrowed as he tries to push toji away. his attempts are pointless, however, as he gets pulled in so that toji can press a kiss to his cheek. megumi shudders at the sensation of the scarred flesh against his face before immediately pulling away, brows furrowed as he shakes his head in disgust and wipes his face with his sleeve.

toji’s face immediately falls, his hand stilling on megumi’s back.

“what was that for?” the teasing tone is evidence in his voice as he tightens his grip on megumi, pressing two more firm kisses to the boy’s face in quick succession. he laughs roughly at the way megumi grumbles, the child’s cheeks puffed out and tiny hands outstretched, trying once more to distance himself.

you watch the scene unfold, toji’s scarred lip curling into a broad grin as he ruffles the boy’s hair. his arms are wrapped firmly around your poor son who continues to struggle, attempting to rid himself of the tight grasp, eyes screwed shut and trying to turn his face away.

another few kisses are pressed to his cheek and then his forehead in turn, with megumi huffing loudly and sticking his tongue out in disgust before finally breaking free of toji’s grip. as soon as he’s escaped, he rushes to hide behind your legs, trying to rub the kisses off his face with one of his oversized pj sleeves. his messy hair is somehow even more tousled from toji’s playful teasing and hair ruffles, his chest heaving dramatically with the exertion of getting out of toji’s grasp.

you pick megumi up before turning to look down at your husband, still sat on the floor with his smug grin.

“stop that, toji. leave him alone!” your husband grins up at you, shrugging playfully as you roll your eyes, turning your head to megumi. he’s gone silent now, perceptive gaze flickering between you and toji as though trying to gauge whose side you’re really on. you speak softly, voice hushed as though to reassure him.

“okay, let’s go upstairs and pick out your bedtime story gumi.”

you feel megumi cautiously twist in your arms so that he can face his father once more, wordlessly lifting a hand to offer a half-wave goodnight, eyes still slightly widened with a subtle sense of alertness, undoubtedly thanks to toji’s attack.

smiling at the sweet gesture, you turn to make your way up the stairs to megumi’s room with him in your hands, but not without catching toji’s playful response from the living room. his voice is softer, the usual roughness subdued into subtle tenderness.

“yeah, yeah. night, brat.”

author’s notes: this is for the anon who requested more dad!toji, i really hope you like this!! the concept had been on my mind for a little while so i was excited to get round to writing it ahh! i’m a firm believer that toji would 100% be a ragebaiter as a dad, him + grumpy/quiet megumi make such a funny duo i really love them🥹 taglist (thank you!!!): @mayegasm @nonchalantfiend @kissthesword @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @dreamydaredevil @stqrgumi @mariisagb @renrenrenren17

divider creds @/dividers-are-us and @/cursed-carmine!

[fushihearts]

“hedgehog!” 𑣲 .✦ ݁˖ ۶ৎ in which baby megumi doesn’t recognise dad!toji with stubble! content: fluff, husband!toji x reader, baby megumi, reader as mamaguro (if you want), domestic toji

you’re in bed, propped up on your side and reading a book as the dim lamplight washes over your skin in hazy flickers. the house is uncharacteristically silent, with megumi in bed and toji away on a mission, and you sigh in relief.

it isn’t like megumi’s a particularly difficult kid — rather, he’s almost concerningly quiet for a four year old, his penetrating gaze unsettlingly perceptive at times — but he’s a kid nonetheless, and what with toji away on mission after mission to support your little family, you tell yourself that the least you can do is try. to fill in the gaps that are left, to show up, to be there for your son.

so you make it your life’s mission to give megumi your absolute undivided attention. to take him out to feed the ducks, to watch pokémon with him, to doodle with him.

sure, the overall family dynamic may be a little rocky and unfamiliar at times, but it’s yours nonetheless. after all, with toji insisting on taking up more and more missions to provide for you and megumi, it at least meant that you could spend more time with your son.

you smile to yourself a little when you hear the door from the hallway.

click!

you look up from your book just in time to see those familiar deep green eyes, the light of your lamp falling across the lick of pale flesh that curled its way across his lips to form a handsome scar. you prop yourself up on your elbows, smiling at your husband.

he looks worn down — exhausted — and yet he’s still wearing that familiar lazy smile he always seems to brandish only for you. he walks slowly to the bed, and you can’t help but note a tiny limp in his step, but you say nothing, instead watching as he sits down beside you, feeling the mattress sink with the added weight.

sitting up properly now, you inspect his face, your eyes raking across those tired, sincere features. you blink slightly at the sight of newly grown stubble. he’d only been gone a week, and yet within that time the gentlest lick of dark fuzz had appeared across his face.

“you’re back.” you breathe out, leaning forward to brush his hair back a little, thumbing through the straight inky strands. “gumi’s asleep…just put him to bed twenty minutes ago. i didn’t know you’d be back so soon, otherwise i’d have—”

you feel a big hand come to meet the crown of your head as he gently ruffles your hair with a smile, a silent attempt at calming your rambling. you lean into his touch almost instinctively, the gentleness of his touch entirely contradicting his sharp, jagged demeanour.

“nah, it’s okay. i missed you guys.” his voice is hoarse, rough around the edges but unmistakably laced with a kind of reserved tenderness.

you smile, and it’s not long before you’re both in bed, him now fully showered, a lazy arm resting around your waist. he exhales against your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut, practically breathing in the warm air around you both, the soothing motion of his thumb against your waist lulling you into a state of drowsiness until eventually you’re both asleep.

but that doesn’t last long. the blissful sleep, the gentle bubble of contented relief, is broken by the slivers of morning light across your face and the tug of a small hand on your sleeve. you blink drearily, lashes fluttering back shut slightly in a weak attempt to block out the intense morning light. you feel you vision begin to piece together eventually only to be met by your expectant 4 year old’s face staring up at you, expression serious.

“mommy. who’s that…?” he points at toji’s sleeping body with a tone of slight disgust, as though he’s just seen a pile of dirt in the place of his father.

you smile sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you slowly pull away from toji’s grasp. you gently kick your legs over the bed to fully face megumi now. “your dad, honey. two sec…let’s go get you breakfast. then you can say hi to daddy when he wakes up, ‘kay?”

he doesn’t see to have any resignation as he follows you quietly, dark brows slightly furrowed and chewing his little lip as though he’s deep in thought. he follows you, wolf plushie tucked under his arm, his soft green pjs a bit too big for him, dragging along the floor. he pulls himself up to sit on a chair, watching as you quickly prepare his breakfast.

you slide a bowl of banana porridge across the table and sit across from him, a cup of coffee in your hand, watching with a smile as he eats, that thoughtful frown still plastered onto his young features.

”morning.”

you turn to see toji stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes sleepily, his messy flat hair slightly ruffled. clearly somebody slept well, at least.

he yawns and walks over to the table, kneeling next to megumi’s chair and wrapping an arm around his body towards him to pull him into a sleepy hug. the boy, however, grimaces a little, small hands pressed against tojis head as he tries to push him away with a look of utter distaste.

toji’s relentless though, smirking a little as he tries to press a kiss to the boy’s forehead before lifting him into his arms. megumi turns to face you seriously, small hands pressed firmly against toji’s right eye and cheek in a feeble attempt to get him off. “mommy. mommy, who is he?”

you pause, trying and failing to hold back a small laugh as toji’s face seems to drop, any lingering signs of sleepiness immediately leaving his face. he blinks harshly, looking as though he’s been stung, momentarily stunned, before eventually recovering from the blow and readopting his confident tone again.

“who else, kid? your dad.” he presses his forehead to megumi’s, his flat messy tufts of midnight black meeting your son’s own sea of dark spikes.

you watch megumi’s eyes narrow a little, soft lashes batting slightly as he stares intently at toji’s face, the cogs seeming to turn one by one in his mind as he tries to verify the words through that penetrating gaze.

no doubt, the kid’s perceptive for his age. scarily perceptive, you note.

he seems to somewhat accept the response however as he seems to relax a little in your husband’s arms, a single hand coming up to brush over the gentle stubble forming on his chin. he inspects it wordlessly, brows furrowed.

toji smiles briefly before leaning his chin forward to playfully tickle megumi with the scratchiness, his chin meeting the soft skin of the boy’s rosy cheek and causing him to gasp and lean backwards. he lets out a tiny unimpressed, almost exasperated gasp at the immaturity of the man stood before him, before eventually reacting to the relentless tickles, laughing slightly and playfully pushing his face away.

“take it off!” he squeals, his hand once again coming to meet the fuzz of dark hair on toji’s chin, exploring the unfamiliar texture against the soft skin of his own fingers. “…i don’t like you being a hedgehog anymore!”

“..a hedgehog..?” toji echoes the word with a slight tone of distaste. it was, truthfully, ironic: you had to stifle a laugh upon hearing the nickname come from the very boy with the spikiest, most hedgehog-like hair you’d probably ever seen a 4 year old have.

“yeah, go shave, hedgehog.” you mimic, grinning at toji as he sighs, rolling his eyes light-heartedly and placing megumi down to head to the bathroom.

he grumbles quietly as he leaves the room

“whatever. betrayed by my own son.”

author’s notes: this is a reupload of a fic i posted back in december ahh i hope you guys like it😓i edited and fixed up some parts because i didn’t like all of it dad!toji and baby megumi are so dear to me i love them and hope to write about them more in future!!

divider creds @/dividers-are-us and @/cursed-carmine!

[fushihearts]

late-night call between dad!toji and baby megumi 𑣲 .✦ ݁˖ ۶ৎ husband!toji x reader, some hurt to comfort, fluff | wc 1.7k

“…hey.” you murmur, your voice quiet as you flash a small smile at your husband on your phone screen.

he’s roughed up — you can tell that much from what you can see of him. the angle which he holds his phone at is inconvenient, but part of his head is in frame, seemingly propped up against the pillow of some dingy hotel bed, one of his arms resting behind his head.

your heart aches a little at how worn down he looks. it’s an unfamiliar feeling, to see your typically-strong husband looking so weathered under the lamplight, hair messy and under-eyes dark. it’s so unusual, to see his confident demeanour eroded into something much more fragile. nonetheless, there’s something sincere in his eyes, something so familiar, so distinguishably toji.

your eyes rest on his pixelated face. “how have you been?”

he sighs. “yeah…been okay. how are you? has the kid been behaving?” you snort weakly at that. for your son to ever act up was practically unheard of to both of you. he was always uncharacteristically quiet, his actions and behaviour much milder than that of any three year old child you’d ever seen.

“come on toji, i think we both know the answer to that.”

“yeah yeah. silly question i guess. but…just wanted to check.”

your heart twists a little at that, a dull ache hitting you at his words. they’re more vulnerable than you’re used to hearing from toji, and you don’t fail to miss the way his mouth twitches, as though he’s not quite sure whether to elaborate. he doesn’t have to, though. you already understand, and you can hear the regret tainting his tone.

it isn’t like it’s his fault that he hasn’t been so present in megumi’s life. what with working to provide for your little family, it makes sense that he sees the boy much less than he’d have liked. nonetheless, you can sense your husband’s insecurity easily, and it makes your chest ache.

this level of rawness between you both — unfiltered, total openness — is definitely new, but you’re undeniably glad that he’s somewhat more readable for once. seeing toji’s true feelings is a kind of luxury that you don’t normally get when speaking to him thanks to high walls he seems to have built around himself, after all.

you watch his eyes lower from the camera, his brows furrowed a little as he tries to settle with the uncomfortable feeling lingering between you both.

you hesitate. “hey…i can put megumi on the phone if you want…?”

“yeah, that’d be nice. thanks.”

you head to the living room, where megumi is currently doodling. his puffy cheeks are pushed out in careful concentration and his lip is jutted out. his hair is freshly damp from his pre-bedtime bath, and you can’t help it think that he looks eerily similar to his father. his usually thick spikes are pushes down into a mess of straight inky strands, save for the the odd few spikes that still seem to stubbornly stick out.

you crouch and rest your hands against the coffee table, speaking softly in the hopes of drawing his attention towards your words.

“hey gumi, wanna say hi to papa?” you speak tentatively, gently poking his chubby arm with your finger, but he doesn’t look up. he’s too focused on colouring in the poorly-drawn frogs on the page, sticking his tongue out and furrowing his brows further as he tries and fails to stay within the lines.

you sigh, throwing toji a quick, apologetic look over the phone before trying again.

“megs? look!” he finally looks up, blinking slowly at you, clearly unsure what you could possibly want from him. you decide to gently ease the phone into his hand, letting him take hold of it.

he peers down through long lashes at the screen, expressionless as he watches the cluster of pixels that seems to be his father shift slightly. toji sits up a little, dark green eyes a touch brighter at the sight of his son.

“hey little man. what’re you up to?”

your son doesn’t reply, uninterested in speaking as always, and simply stares at the screen in silence, lip poking out further. at the angle that megumi’s grasping the phone, you’re sure toji can see all three of the toddler’s chins as well as the mess of crayon colours staining his oversized pjs.

the bright light of the phone bounces off the boy’s face in uneven blue flickers, rays of light catching on his dark strands of hair. after a few minutes of waiting for further action from toji, your son seems to deem the (lack of a) conversation pointless, placing the phone back onto the table beside him and picking his crayon back up.

oh.

toji’s expression falls immediately, but he tries to play it off, turning his face to the side and scratching his neck awkwardly at the dismissal.

“…the kid doesn’t like me much, huh?” he jokes, but it’s evident even over the poor call quality how the joke falls completely flat, a humourless laugh escaping his lips as though to make up for it. he attempts his usual teasing grin, but it just looks…weak. somehow, he looks even more tired than he had just a few minutes ago, despite being all roughed up from all the busy days of being away from home.

you sigh and lift the phone from the table before heading to the kitchen doorway, choosing to leave megumi to colour in peace. you speak softly into your phone, trying to adopt a gentle tone: the way you speak is careful, tender, as though you’re speaking to your three year old rather than your 6’2” husband — and toji hates it. you can tell as much by the way he winces the second you speak.

“toji…it’s nothing, that’s just how he is, you know.”

“nah, don’t be like that. it’s fine.” the short laugh he forces out sounds robotic, void of any real sincerity, and you know that’s your cue to drop the topic.

nonetheless, the look of dejection simmering beneath your husband’s usually confident, lazy features breaks your heart. you’re about to speak again, hoping to salvage the situation a little, when you feel a small tug on your sleeve.

“oh! megs, what’s up?” you frown, a little alarmed at the suddenness with which he’d appeared at your side. to see megumi ask for anything is rare, and you can’t help but fear the worst — maybe he’s unwell? or has he hurt himself?

before you can spiral any further, however, the three year old reaches out a hand, expression unreadable. he’s practically on his tiptoes now, one hand holding onto your leg for support as he tries to signal for the phone silently.

“my phone?” he nods, tugging at your sweats more urgently, brows furrowed and expression determined.

puzzled, you pass the phone to him. he takes it, glancing quickly down at the screen, as though to check whether toji’s still on call. upon confirming that he is still on the line, megumi nods assuredly to himself before shuffling his way back to the living room, taking toji with him.

you follow behind, watching the chubby toddler lower himself back onto the floor and place the phone down on the coffee table, leaving toji by his side as he scribbles more frogs and a couple of bunnies onto the sheet. every few seconds he peers over the phone screen, checking to make sure toji hasn’t left. and each time, upon seeing his dad’s face peering back at him, his surprisingly stoic features soften a fraction in relief, only for the child to then return to wearing serious look as he goes back to colouring.

you notice the pattern on the third repeat, with megumi struggling to peer over the phone properly from where he’s sat down. watching him struggle to properly angle himself to see toji’s face once more, you decide to help him, carefully moving to his side and propping the phone up against a plant pot. he seems pleased at that.

by now, it’s obvious to you that toji has clearly cheered up, his usual grin back, but there’s an undeniable softness in his eyes as he watches megumi doodle quietly.

a kind of comfortable silence settles of the room, only occasionally interrupted by toji prompting megumi to show him the latest development in his drawing: first a few dogs, then an elephant and then a pair of wobbly stick men. the shorter one has noticeably spikier hair, sticking up at angles on the stick figure’s head, and you can’t help but grin at the accuracy.

at some point megumi begins to yawn. he seems to have deemed his drawing done, and so he lifts himself off the floor before sleepily laying down on the couch with the phone still propped under his arm. under his other arm are his two dog plushies, retrieved from where they had lay amongst the pile of cushions at the far end of the couch. you begin to gather the toys at the far end of the living room, having noted the toddler’s exhaustion and the clear signs that it’s his bedtime already.

toji scoffs under his breath at the captivating view of megumi’s sleeve, which is now perfectly in the way of the camera. he can’t see a thing, though he recognises the tell-tale sound of the boy’s breathing easing into gentle snores. it’s oddly soothing to him, really: the feeling of being needed by his son despite being miles away.

you finally finish tidying the toys, planning on picking your son up to take him to bed, but not without hearing toji speak softly into the phone. there’s a slight lilt to his voice, as though he’s fighting back a smile, and his usually-gruff tone has been softened into something almost borderline boyish. it’s so gentle, so uncharacteristically tender, that you almost miss it:

“night, megumi. sweet dreams.”

author’s notes: i love dad!toji and baby megumi sm they’re so precious to me taglist (thank you!!!): @mayegasm @nonchalantfiend @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @dreamydaredevil @mariisagb @renrenrenren17 @bowiesprettieststar2 @733164 @palanggaaa @megssleepygirl @rengoatku @hangenism @yujisdreamgirl @nonamedreams @ivankinnieclatter @sugerfilled @silverstar111 @dreamyreadinglover @v4mp1r3b4tzz @dev1lw4arsprada @megantheestallionswife @magicalpeenpoo @qrxswan @silverwfern @luvhza @rozzaa0scentzz1 @azizxxxah @akiangelcanon4sure @b-bitter @shy-guy927 + join!

divider creds @/dividers-are-us and @/cursed-carmine!