toji fushiguro x fem!reader — ic: ddub1618 on twt!
synopsis: you always thought you’d have room in your heart for only one person, not two. you also never expected the other one to be so small. wc: -1k.
content warnings: fluff, toji being a present father (fawk YOU, gege), hints of navigating unexpected parenthood, megumi is five, age gap (toji is late 20’s, reader is early 20’s), writing is kinda sloppy whoops!
note: uhh hi i hope you guys like this:3 requests are open for the characters on my masterlist ! maybe i’ll make a part 2.. haven’t decided yet. dedicated to @chosoyukisgf !!
— ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ꒰ nav ꒱
mornings have never been your favorite part of the day. the incessant ringing of your alarm, the loud chirping of the mourning dove, the way your linen sheets cling to the sweat that lingers on your skin. box fan be damned when you have a 6’2 heater that presses up against you during the night.
but in the past few months, they’ve become bearable.
you feel a sense of purpose as you shuffle into a pair of rabbit slippers, a bigger pair sits adjacent to the ones you’ve just slid into. you stifle the giggle that threatens to breach past your lips at the feeling of a strong forearm trying to lure you back into bed, a voice grumbling something akin to just wanting “five more minutes.”
you turn in his hold, hand smoothing over the hairs that had shifted during his slumber. you bend, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to the even softer skin of his temple. you promise breakfast will be made in your absence, and that seems to satisfy the man beneath your sheets.
the sound of soft soles slapping against hardwood floors is the only noise to be heard throughout your quiet apartment. a pair of scissors are the first thing you spot as you enter your humble kitchen, lying next to the sink, evidence of last night’s events.
you can easily recall the stool that was placed in front of your counter, and the small, dark-haired boy that sat atop the smooth wood. the older man whispering for him to keep still as you snipped at the wet strands of megumi’s hair.
the young boy had only ever trusted his father to cut his hair, which caused a swell of pride to make a home within your ribcage, liquid salt almost brimming your eyes when the boy had assured you that he trusted you just as much.
a white refrigerator inhabits your small kitchen, clay magnets scattered around, some holding onto art projects megumi had so thoughtfully made for you at school.
you’re very cautious of your movements, choosing to slowly pull the fridge door open rather than swinging it, worried his masterpieces would fall to the floor. not that it would matter, since they seem to hang in your heart as well.
the door blocks the small frame that seems to have made it’s way down the hall in the time you’ve spent rummaging through the fridge. you nearly shriek when you finally close it, a pair of eyes already seeking you out as you calm down.
megumi gives you his morning greeting; a poke to the hip and a ghost of a smile. he treads towards the other side of the counter, opening the pantry, his mind set on what he wants for breakfast.
his eyes wander, scanning through what’s available. in front of your go-to snacks, you’ve made space for a purple box that holds fruit gummies, fruit gummies you and toji had to budget for this week so meg’s could get his usual hot wheels car at the grocery store.
the small boy makes his way to the living room, fruit snacks in hand, and morning cartoons on his mind.
only when he looks back at you do you follow him. as you both sit on your slightly worn couch, you think breakfast can wait. soft hands find the tv remote to turn it on. the low volume of the tv does nothing to quiet your beating heart as megumi scoots an inch closer to you.
in the beginning of your relationship, toji had warned you that his boy wasn’t an affectionate one. you didn’t mind, you understood where he was coming from, never really wanting to be held or touched when you were growing up as well. your wishes were never respected, and you’d be damned if you dare disrespect megumi in the same way.
so whenever he decides to share his affection with you, you gratefully accept it. and as megumi rests his head on your shoulder, you mentally apologize to toji, because breakfast is definitely waiting now.
a smile graces your lips as small hands place a fruit snack in your open palm. you’re too busy chewing the small treat, too busy staring ahead at the tv screen that you don’t hear toji approaching the back of the couch, let alone see his rough palms reaching for your scalps, his fingers ruffling two heads of hair.
and as you watch toji bend over to tickle megumi’s sides, a reasonable punishment for not fessing up a gummy or two, you think you could get used to this. and you will.
for those blissful and uninformed of f1twt shenanigans, a motorsports journalist quoted a post and said that it was weird to post fanfiction of drivers.
he justified his dislike of RPF because “quite a bit of it is child porn”. when asked of an example of this, he responded:
im gonna bffr i could NOT find the fic he was talking about but also my brother in christ what were YOU doing in the devil’s sacrament?
also stuff like this is very difficult to find UNLESS you were actively searching for it??? and i’m personally not buying his excuse of:
anyways i wanted to highlight the funniest result of this whole ordeal which is:
Hii Dominic, thanks for the asks babe, I’ll give you a kiss now mwah.
23. Do you have piercings? How many? -- I actually only have one piercing and it is a lip piercing, right in the middle. For the longest time I was pretty apprehensive about getting piercings at all, but about 2 weeks ago my friend encouraged me to get my lip pierced when they went to get their nipples done. And now here we are.
55. Are you mean? -- Short answer to that question? Yes. Long answer? I feel as though there is a difference between being “nice” and being “kind”. Being nice would be getting ready with my friends and complimenting their outfits, or telling them their hair looks nice. Being kind would be me telling them their makeup is a bit smudged, or that these shoes would go better with those pants. Being nice is me telling my friends that their mental health is important and to take all the time they need to work on it. Being kind is me telling them it has been almost a year with no steps taken to work on it, and they need to get their shit together, because they are wallowing in self pity.
Being kind isn’t always being nice. Being kind can be painful, and it can be cruel, but being kind is what you do for people you care about. I don’t engage in fake pleasantries or small talk or am nice just to get people to like me. I can be brutally honest, and mean, and a little bit cruel. But for the people who I care about? I am always kind.
Also I like to insult my friends. Who doesn’t like to call their friends stupid sluts?
69: Do you believe in soulmates? -- Oh boy, I am about to give the mean answer but uh no. There is no way. For one, souls are not a real thing that exists. Secondly, the universe is cruel, and unfeeling, and doesn’t care about the beings in it. The universe it is not sentient. It just is. If people come together and love each other, that is great! But there is nothing drawing two people together, and who are destined to be with one another, because in the ever expanding world, you think that there is a force out there connecting two random people on some planet? No shot... However there are some times where I am lying awake, and thinking about the people I care about, and my hopes and dreams, and I just hope that, somehow, I am wrong.
