"mama’s crying!" megumi says, poking toji’s knee as he sits lazily on the couch after a long day at work. toji ruffles megumi’s hair, standing up almost instantly. "wait here, kid. be back soon."

toji heads towards the bedroom, hearing your muffled cries the closer he gets. "baby?" he calls out, finding you curled up on the bed, sobbing into the pillows. your husband perches next to you, rubbing your back soothingly with one large hand. "what’s the matter, princess?"

you choke on a sob as you try to speak, quickly giving up and burying your face back into the pillow below you that’s wet from your endless tears. "s’okay, just let it out, yeah?" toji coos, making his voice as quiet and gentle as he knows how. he lays down next to you, gathering you in his arms. you melt against him, tears still pouring down your face, wetting his shirt.

he just holds you there in his strong arms, anchoring you, letting you cry for as long as you need. he strokes your hair before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "what’s got my wife cryin’ like this, huh? too damn pretty for all these tears."

for the first time all day, you smile, still sobbing, feeling your husband squeeze you tighter. "megs is worried about ya’, and so am i," toji adds, threading his fingers through your hair. you manage to say a few words, voice quiet and hoarse. "it’s stupid. can i just stay here a while?"

"can stay here as long as y’need, baby," toji reassures you. he cradles you like something fragile, gentle with every touch, every word — something he’d learned with time.

his hand continues to stroke slowly down your hair, soothing you until your breathing steadies. "good girl, there ya’ go," he praises, completely unbothered by your tears soaking his shirt, your messy hair and blotchy face…

all that matters to him right now is that you feel safe and comfortable.

when your sobs finally quieten, almost inaudible, you pull away from your husband’s chest an inch, looking up at him with glassy eyes. "feel better?" he asks, wiping a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

before you can answer, a little voice chimes in. "mama are you okay?" megumi says, trying to climb up onto the bed, receiving help from toji who hoists him up with his free hand. "yeah, i’m fine, come here," you smile, hugging him as he settles against his dad’s chest — a seemingly very popular location.

toji drapes one arm around you, one around his son, holding you both tightly. he knew he’d be stuck in this position for a while, pinned against the bed by the only two people he loves. not that he minded. secretly, he enjoyed being needed like this.

you press a kiss to toji’s firm chest, smiling faintly to yourself. it takes no time at all for megumi to fall asleep, dreaming peacefully, safe in his father’s arms. you soon follow, exhausted from crying.

once you’re both sound asleep, toji reaches over, turning off the lamp beside him. careful he doesn’t wake you both, he mumbles under his breath.

"how’d i get so damn lucky."

a/n; something from drafts while i recover #help

masterlist <3

tags: smut , minors dni , piv

a/n: first post on this blog & its for you @anime-heathen as requested(I decided on him specifically + this is a rewritten fic) <3

you were completely gone—mind blank, body a limp, drooling wreck on your boyfriend's silk sheets in his penthouse. your eyes are glassy and unfocused, mouth hanging open with a string of spit trailing down your chin as he rails you mercilessly.

hus thick cock stretches your sloppy, swollen cunt wide with every savage thrust, the wet schlick schlick schlick of your overstuffed pussy filling the room like filthy music.

you've cum so many times you don't even know anymore—four? five? ten? the count is lost in the white-hot haze fogging your brain. all you know is the endless, shattering pleasure mixed with pain ripping through you.

"fuuckk—hahh..'jii" you babble incoherently, tongue heavy, words melting into broken moans and whimpers.

your thighs twitch violently around his hips, cunt clenching and fluttering wildly around his cock, gushing fresh slick down his balls with every brutal snap of his hips.

toji groans in pure delight, his eyes dark with lust as he drinks in the sight of you—his pretty little girl fucked completely stupid.

"fuck, look at you," he laughs breathlessly, voice rough and dripping with smug satisfaction. he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half so he can grind even deeper, the fat head of his cock battering your cervix with every thrust.

"my baby got fucked so fucking silly she's just a dumb girl now hm?"

you don't answer, well rather you can't. you release another wrecked sob as another orgasm slams into you without warning, your walls spasming violently around him, vision whiting out as you squirt messily all over his abs and yourself, completely soaking the sheets.

your body jerks and twitches like a beautiful broken doll, but toji keeps fucking you through it, hips never slowing.

"yeahhh, that's my good girl," he purrs, thumb pressing hard on your throbbing, oversensitive clit, rubbing mean little circles that make your eyes roll back.

"aww, my poor baby. i love you like this..completely empty for me."

he slams in to the hilt and grinds deep, chasing his own release while you shatter again, babbling pure nonsense, tears and drool soaking your flushed face. thick ropes of his cum flood your wrecked pussy as he groans.

"fuck. 'm gonna keep you like this all night baby.."  he murmurs against your lips, placing a gentle kiss. "keep you all stuffed with me."

© bunsflix , all works are mine do not repost anywhere

tw: fluff, somnophilia, age gap (reader is in her 20s, toji in his 30s), suggestive, corruption kink if you squint, p in v, spit kink, praise kink, size kink, mdni!

Olderbf!Toji likes having you in his view, as well as the exit. It's a habit that's built up over all the years - having first-hand experience with some of the dangers in this world. All he wants is to be able to rush you out of dangerous places if you freeze up like a deer in headlights.

He'll often sit facing doors whenever he splurges and takes you out to dinner, and will keep a mental note of anyone who walks in/out. Anything to keep you safe.

Olderbf!Toji who will always find a way to touch you. Whether it be an arm that curls around your waist to pull you into his side, or his index finger hooking into yours to keep you close without you realising how much his hands are sweating, he's there.

Olderbf!Toji who finds your difference in experience amusing. Any time your cheeks burn up after a heated kiss, that lazy smirk tugs at his lips, and he can't help but let out a huff of laughter when you avert your gaze.

toji plies you with orgasms before shiu visits bc you always kick up a fuss when his friend comes by. you’re all sleepy in his lap tucked into the crook of his neck by the time shiu’s knocking on his door

New Beginnings: Chapter 11

Suguru x Reader

Toji x Reader

TW: Adult themes, very light sexual themes (Minors DNI)

Sleep wouldn’t find you that night. All you could see when you closed your eyes was Suguru’s face full of pain and betrayal. His voice echoed through your mind as he shouted and asked why you had betrayed him. You tossed and turned beside Toji until physically, you could not bear to lay in your shared bed for one more second. Pushing the covers away, you slipped out of bed careful not to disturb your sleeping husband, and made your way outside only stopping long enough to swipe Toji’s cigarettes and lighter. Once outside, you sat on the concrete outside the apartment building against the brick siding.

“Guess I’m a smoker now. Sorry, Mama.” You said to yourself as you lit one of Toji’s cigarettes before taking a drag off of it.

You watched the smoke as you released it into the air and it evaporated into the blackness of the night sky. It reminded you of Suguru. The smoke in your lungs was his love. It was obvious and present. But when he left, it evaporated like the smoke into nothingness. While you were alone, you allowed the tears to fall freely. You did betray him. You betrayed his trust and everything sacred between you. The worst part? Now, everything was worse than it had started. Maybe Toji had been right all along and you shouldn’t have met with him at all; maybe you should have ignored him and gone alone. Should you be mad at Toji? You weren’t. In a way, you hated that you weren’t.

“Lean up.” Toji’s voice startled you. You had been so deep in thought, you hadn’t even heard him come outside. “Sorry.” He said as he noticed he had frightened you.

You did as he asked, leaning forward, and he sat behind you with his back to the wall before pulling you backwards to rest against him. His arms wrapped around your body as you relaxed into his hold and laid your head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. You lifted the cigarette to his mouth and he took a drag.

“Sorry, I took them without asking. Didn’t want to wake you.” You said referring to the cigarettes.

“You don’t have to ask me.” He told you. “You can have whatever you want. If it’s mine, it’s yours.”

“Thanks.” You said.

“I’m sorry tonight went the way it did. I’m sure that was hard.” He kissed your cheek.

“He, uh…” you tried to steady your breathing. “He looked at me like…” you blinked tears away. “Like he was disgusted with me. Like I betrayed him. I did.”

Toji’s arms tightened and his face buried into your hair as he listened.

“I think his face tonight will stay with me the rest of my life.” You told Toji.

“This might sound really dumb, but will you indulge me?” Toji asked.

“Sure.” You turned your body slightly to look up at him better.

“Sometimes, especially right after she died, I had to imagine my wife as two people: the one who died and the woman I love. It doesn’t make the pain stop, but it helps. Maybe you could think of him that way too. The man you love, and the man he is now.”

You thought this over for a moment. “That’s a nice idea.”

Toji shifted you in his arms. “I mean it, YN. I’m sorry that it went badly.”

“You told me it would.” A humorless laugh escaped you as your hands wiped tears from your cheeks.

“I wanted to be wrong.” He was warm, and his embrace was safe.

“He wasn’t always this way.” You came to Suguru’s defense. “If you knew him…before…You would get it.”

“So you’ve said.” Toji agreed. “I wish I had gotten to know the man you love like this.”

“Like what?” You asked tilting your head to better see him.

“Completely and desperately.” He said without any hint of hate or distaste. “ He must have been quite the man if you still love him this much. Was he worthy of being loved by someone like you?”

“Someone like me?” You questioned.

“Someone who needs nothing to survive.” He clarified.

“Yes.” You choked. “But I don’t think that’s true. I do need one thing. I’ve been searching and fighting for it my whole life.”

“Love.” Toji finished for you.

“It’s pathetic, I know.” You turned your face from his, fearful of what you may find there.

“It’s not.” He reassured. “It’s a normal human need.”

“Yeah, well, it’s never really worked out for me.” You sniffled.

Toji didn’t say anything back. He just pulled you closer and rubbed his nose against your cheek. His fingers drummed a calming rhythm into your thigh as you both sat. It must have been several minutes before you caught yourself starting to fall asleep.

“Can we go inside?” You asked.

“Yeah, Babe.” Toji helped you stand before standing himself. He pulled you into his body with his arm around you as you made your way back to your apartment.

“Lay down, Beautiful. I’ll be right back.” He said softly as you both entered your room.

When your mind was distracted, this arrangement between you and Toji felt natural. It felt like something that had always just ‘been.’

You made yourself comfortable in bed with the covers tucked up to your chin before Toji reappeared with a glass of water. He set it on your bedside table before slipping into bed behind you.

“Thank you.” You whispered into the silence.

“Mmm” he hummed.

Toji was dependable and kind. He’s always been honest and kept his word. Despite this, it felt wrong to want him. It felt like betrayal to hold him or to allow him to hold you. Every time he called you some stupid pet name, all you could hear was Suguru. There was a constant battle between your mind and your heart over what you wanted and how you felt inside. Tonight though, you were drained and exhausted, so you allowed yourself to give in to the temptation and desire to be desired. You turned onto your other side to face your husband before gently reaching an arm out to turn his face towards yours.

“Are you ok?” He asked groggily.

“Toji?” Your voice came out weaker than you had intended.

You could see his eyes open through the small amount of light streaming through the window from a street light.

“I know this is a selfish thing to ask. And if you don’t want to, please don’t feel pressured.” You began.

“What is it?” His hand was holding your wrist as your hand still held the side of his face.

“Can I…can I kiss you?” You bit your lip out of nervousness for his reply.

“Do you want to?” He asked. “Or do you want to kiss ‘someone’?”

You tried to pull your hand away, but he held it still.

“I’m not saying no either way. I’d just like to understand.” He clarified.

“I…I don’t know. I just need….closeness.” Unease spread throughout you at the honesty you were revealing. He might as well have sliced you open for the world to see.

“Would you still need closeness if I was someone else?” He changed his question.

You thought about this for a moment, but the answer was obvious. “No.”

The closeness you desired could not be fulfilled by just anyone. That thought overwhelmed you. You didn’t want to become reliant on another person to be let down.

A grin spread onto his handsome face. He pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“A real kiss.” You clarified.

He laughed before pulling you in and kissing you deeply. Your hands made their way around his neck. His hands traveled your body, and for just a moment, you forgot about what had happened with Suguru. For just a moment, you were just Toji’s wife. He enveloped you as he rolled on top of you, braced by his forearms on each side of your head. His tongue made its way into your mouth and you allowed it; welcomed it even. Without meaning to, you let a moan slip from your mouth as he bit your bottom lip.

You had several moments with him like this. The most notable was in the kitchen before Satoru showed up at your doorstep. These moments that you feared and craved at the same time. He felt so good against you. He tasted so good despite just smoking with you. Life as his wife wouldn’t be a bad life. It just wasn’t what you had planned.

Suddenly, he pulled away. His eyes were blown wide and he was panting, same as you.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

Had you somehow messed this up too?

“Nothing!” He promised, rubbing his hand over your side. “I just…I couldn’t…I had to stop. Sorry.”

Then you felt it: he was hard. You smiled slightly, but a blush broke out across your cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You said.

Toji rolled off of you onto his own side of the bed.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked.

He moved his arm that he had draped over his eyes to look at you puzzled. “Mad at you?”

“For…that.” You gestured down to his erection.

“No, Doll.” He smiled. “I’m not mad at you. Just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.”

His eyes met yours in what appeared to be some kind of a forming question, when a knock on your door caught his attention.

“What the fuck?” Toji mumbled.

“Who could that be?” You asked him.

“I don’t know.” He said.

He got out of bed, adjusting his deflating boner as he walked towards the door.

“Be careful!” You whisper shouted.

Toji cracked the door open slightly to peer outside.

“What the hell do you want?” Toji’s voice turned aggressive at the sight in front of him.

“Who is it?” You whisper shouted once again.

Toji didn’t turn to you. In fact, his whole body was blocking the person’s view into the apartment. You heard someone speaking, but couldn’t make out their voice clearly.

“Is your wife here?” That voice…you knew that voice. It couldn’t be. “Step aside, Fushiguro. You’ll only make things worse.”

You watched as Toji’s body tensed, but he did step aside. You peered past your husband to the all too familiar face that stood in your doorway.

What. The. Fuck.

a/n: I might delete this when I wake up but this is just the slop of my gooner brain at 3 am so enjoy se quieres

drool and tears soaked the pillow that your face was buried in, your body trembling with each hard thrust toji gave you.

his large hands groped your hips as he hammered into you from behind. broken whimpers poured out of you as your pussy fluttered helplessly and the familiar feeling of an orgasm approaching slammed into you.

“‘ji! can’t anymore.” you sobbed, convulsing around him while one hand reached back shakily to push him away.

he squeezed your hips hard in response, pace unrelenting. “mmmhm baby, that’s why you keep making a mess all over me, huh?” his tone was mocking and mean and sent you over the edge.

hot tears welled in your eyes and escaped as your body quivered uncontrollably, legs shaking like you had no control over them. you didn’t, the way toji was owning every part of you right now.

he pulled out abruptly with one movement and let you collapse onto the bed in a crumpled mess. you whimpered and slowly crawled away from him, a lust-filled daze making you dizzy. or that was the overstimulation.

there was a low mean laugh behind you and his hands on your hips tightened, hard enough to bruise.

“where d’ya think you’re going, sweetheart?” he taunted, dragging you right back to where he wanted.

thick globs of your cum was dripping out of your cunt, leaking all over your thighs. sticky ropes stretched between your folds like webs—the image obscene.

“fuck—hahhh— daddy ‘s too muchh.” you babbled breathlessly while he lined himself up anyway. his cock stretched you apart with a loud squelch, making your hips jerk forward uncontrollably.

he began his slow achingly deep thrusts again, one hand moving to fist your hair. with a tug, he tilted your head up off of the bed where it had fallen and picked up the pace of his movements.

“still talking means you haven’t had enough..” he breathed out, yanking at your hair just to hear you cry out. the pain and pleasure jumbled together into one toe-curling sensation.

his blunt fingers dug into the skin of your hip, giving him leverage as he fucked into you harder and faster. your walls tightened around him, eager to milk him but he wasn’t done just yet.

“there ya go, keep takin’ it like my gooood fucking slut.” he praised in a low breathless rumble, thrusts never slowing.

you moaned in response, breathless and shaky and spent. your brain was officially melting and there were no thoughts left except toji and his mean dick pummeling into you.

he let go of your hair and your head dropped back onto the bed, the upper half of your body pressed against the messy sheets.

“daddy — nghhhh — please..” you mewled, unsure if you were begging for mercy or for more pleasure.

a hard slap landed against your ass, making it jiggle and redden. you squealed and squirmed around his cock, eyes rolling back everytime he bottomed out.

“please what sweet girl?” he asked in that rough lustful voice. when he didn’t get a response, he slammed into you harder.

“please keep fucking this messy little cunt? please keep making you cry?” he taunted, a loud smack! landing on your ass between each question.

uncontrolled whimpers broke free as you convulsed around him, white bursting behind your eyes when you came again.

he flipped you onto your back and forced your legs further apart using his own strong ones. you were a shaking breathless mess beneath him.

your mouth was ajar, drool dripping down your chin and onto your neck. he began driving into you harder and watched as weak moans and gasps were all you could muster.

then your face scrunched up and tears were sliding down your cheeks. the overstimulation made you into a crying wreck. the salty water mixed with your saliva, making your face glisten.

he leaned over you and wiped the tears with his thumb gently. “poor baby, soo fucked out.” he cooed, movements slow but still continuous as he neared his own orgasm.

words would take too much effort to form so all you could do was make small whimper sounds in between your soft cries.

“daddy’s almost done with his cockdumb girl.. just need to fill you up like you deserve.” he whispered, lips brushing against your lower one.

you nodded with a shaky sigh and breathed out his name shakily as he flooded your insides with warm cum. your eyes rolled back a little at the sensation, savoring the feeling.

he scooped you up into his arms after and held you while pressing soft kisses to your tender body. “so dumb and good f’me..” he praised in a whisper.

sigh i want an older bf i can call daddy, dada, or dad while he calls me baby, puppy, or bunny. or js the idea of having a bf who acts like hes my dad >.<

everyone wants a girl with daddy issues until she sobs because she thinks you're abandoning her

✶ I NEED SOMEONE OLDER!

He's toxic.

People like to say.

Toxic, huh?

Funny.

Because he never made you feel like a burden. He never looked at the bruises on your arms and asked what you did to provoke it. He never sighed when you flinched at loud noises, never rolled his eyes when you cried, never told you to “just toughen up, he’s your father.”

He never said that.

But your mother did. She sat on the couch, cigarette burning down to the filter, and said, "He's your dad. What do you want me to do?" while you stood there with blood drying in your hair.

Your mother, who watched it happen for years and said nothing. Your mother, who once handed your father the belt because you'd forgotten to wash the dishes. Your mother, who looked at your split lip at the dinner table and asked you to pass the salt.

Your friends did. "Maybe if you didn't talk back so much..." one of them said once, and you learned to stop telling them things.

Everyone did.

Everyone but him.

He just looked at you. That first time. You were sitting on the curb outside the convenience store, trying to stop your nose from bleeding with a crumpled napkin. He didn’t know you then. You were hiding from a house that hated you. He parked his truck, walked over, and crouched down right there on the dirty pavement. He didn’t ask what happened. He just handed you a clean handkerchief—soft white cotton, like something from an old movie—and said, “You okay doll?”

That was it. The first time you saw him.

He’s not that well off—he works at a garage on the edge of town, the one with the flickering sign and the pit bulls chained out back. His hands are always stained with grease, knuckles perpetually split, nails lined with a permanent crescent of black. He dropped out of school at sixteen to take care of his own shit, family stuff he never talks about except late at night when his voice goes hollow and distant.

But he always brought you the things you wanted. Things you never asked for, because you learned a long time ago that wanting things only led to pain. Wanting got you a fractured wrist. Wanting got you called a greedy, selfish, bitch just like your mother. So you stopped asking. You stopped looking. You stared at your shoes and never let your eyes linger on anything too long.

But he noticed.

Of course he noticed. He notices everything about you. The way your breath catches. The way your fingers twitch toward something before you shove your hands in your pockets. The way your gaze drifted—just for a second, just a flicker—toward the white dress in the thrift shop window every single time you walked past it.

You never said a word. But he knew.

He knew the exact shade of white. The tiny lace trim at the collar. The way it would sit on your shoulders, the way it would twirl around your knees if you ever let yourself spin in it. You'd never spun in a dress before. You'd never been allowed to be that kind of girl.

He got it for you.

He got it. For you.

He worked extra shifts. He skipped meals. You didn't know that then. One night, after another beating, he showed up at your door with a crumpled paper bag in his hand.

"It's not wrapped or anything," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't know how to do that fancy shit."

His voice was rough, almost embarrassed, like he was the one who should be grateful.

You wore it the next day and he looked at you like you'd hung the moon. No one had ever looked at you like that before.

Until I get bored | Twisted Oneshots

pairing yandere!Toji Fushiguro × F!Reader [Modern AU]

genre dark romance • psychological horror • thriller • crime • captivity • slow burn

word count 11k ♡ m.list taglist form

content warnings kidnapping • captivity • stalking • obsessive behavior • manipulation • psychological abuse • violence • blood • injury • threats • non-con elements • sexual violence • coercion • forced nudity • unhealthy relationship dynamics

"No way... that's insane."

You couldn't stop staring as another rider soared above the lagoon, suspended in the air for a heartbeat before swooping back down over the water. The entire resort looked like something out of a postcard—crystal-clear water, luxury cabanas, and tourists crowding the docks to watch the jetpack stunts. 

Another rider landed smoothly before the next instructor waved your group forward.

"You're seriously doing this?" one of your friends laughed, already pulling out her phone.

Husbandtoji X Pregnantwifereader

TW: Fluff and Fluff

wc:2.5k

------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up at 3 a.m. like a switch got flipped.

One moment you're drifting in that heavy, dreamless sleep of the exhausted pregnant woman. The next, your eyes are wide open, and there's a singular thought taking up every inch of your brain:

Toji's mother's dumplings.

Not regular dumplings. Not the ones from the shop down the street with the good dipping sauce. Not the frozen bags you keep in the freezer for emergencies.

Her dumplings. The ones she makes by hand. Thin, delicate wrappers. That specific filling — pork and cabbage with a hint of ginger and something else you've never been able to identify. The way they taste when they're fresh off the pan, slightly crispy on the bottom, steaming when you bite into them.

Your mouth floods with saliva.

Your stomach growls.

And then the realization hits you like a brick.

It's 3 a.m. There is no universe in which you can have those dumplings right now. You're not even sure where Toji's mother keeps her recipe. The woman lives across town. It's dark out. Everyone's asleep. The whole world is asleep except for you and this baby who has apparently decided that her dumplings are a non-negotiable demand at an absolutely ungodly hour.

You try to reason with yourself.

You're being ridiculous. It's a craving. Pregnant women get cravings. They pass. You'll think about something else.

You don't think about something else.

You lie there for ten minutes, staring at the ceiling, your hand resting on the curve of your belly. The baby kicks, like they're reminding you. Hey. We want dumplings. Don't forget.

The kicking makes it worse.

You carefully slide out of bed, trying not to disturb Toji. He's sprawled out beside you, one arm thrown over your empty pillow, his breathing deep and even. He's been working double shifts all week, coming home with dark circles under his eyes and that tired droop to his shoulders that makes your chest ache. He needs this sleep. He deserves this sleep.

You pad barefoot into the kitchen.

Sweet little Megs.

“Thank you…for giving me Megumi, ‘ji.”

Throughout your four years of marriage and three of dating, a total of seven years with Toji, only once have you seen him cry or get choked up over something.

When you brought your little blessing into the world.

Megumi was born on a very cold December night that stretched infinitely in the hospital room you were confined to for 16 hours during labor.

With an epidural in your spine and your throat parched, you were sure that your little boy had no intention to ever get out of your womb with how much he was stalling.

Toji was there throughout the whole process. Massaging your numb and swollen feet, strong arms applying pressure to your tense hips, calloused hands resting on the full-term belly and a deep voice spilling carefully chosen words into your ears to soothe the anxiety.

You were nervous to say the least, paranoid from the possibility of pain shooting through you at any moment—or something going wrong in seconds.

He was there, though not visibly stressed—internally fighting chaos with his heart in his throat.

And when you started pushing. It was a whole different experience than what you thought it would be. Turns out bouncing on the gym ball, drinking raspberry tea and your husband keeping you somewhat active during the pregnancy was key to a smooth delivery.

The second little Megumi was placed in your arms, half wailing and half clawing at the air—all which you zoned out from when you saw his face and the small tuff of pitch black hair on his head—the world froze.

Birds quieted down in the sky, the shores retreated for him, clouds parted from the horizon.

He was breathtaking. An angelic small baby boy covered in your body fluids and clammy—yes, but with gorgeous eyes, big dark blue orbs that made your heart split in half.

Toji didn’t dare to move from the corner of the room. What you considered a nice delivery was him ending up with his forearms red from your squeezing but he wouldn’t ever tell you that.

From the dimly lit corner of the hospital room where he wasn’t bothering the doctors at work stitching you up, your husband watched as you craddled Megumi.

Hair sticking to your damp forehead, cheeks rosy from the heat, hands shaking from the adrenaline just like his were.

You were alluring.

So heavenly he almost forgot you had just pushed out his son.

Your voice cracked when you called out to him, vocal cords dry and a rasp in your words from exhaustion. “Honey?”

Time slammed against him again and he was brought to the present where his sweet wife was peering up at him with bright eyes.

He drew closer to the bed, big figure shielding your eyes from the white light behind him.

“Hold him.”

And he did.

You placed the small body into his arms. Megumi’s size shrinking double in his father’s arms.

Toji realised right then and there that he had become a father.

Somebody tied to another from birth.

A man who had given a part of him to you and you made a new life from it.

So pure and so beautiful.

The words he intended to say—“Welcome to the world, son.”—died in his throat when the thorns caught them.

What came out instead was a choked sound, something incomprehensible but so vulnerable even the nurses in the back froze upon hearing it.

Because it’s not everyday, or ever, that you see a man so resilient and stoic like Toji fall apart.

You smiled at the sight of your boys, a tired but so proud grin on your face knowing you built all of this.

This family, that man.

The father who holds your newborn.

The one who used to struggle with addiction, gambling, smoking and drinking. Who wanted to end it all after losing so much in his life.

The one who you somehow managed to save by kissing all of his scars—the one on his temple, the big gash on his shoulder, the line over his lip.

He quit smoking, he quit everything for you.

And it got you where you were now.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

No, thank you for everything, Toji.

The first months with Megumi were absolute bliss. Being born the rather quiet rare kind of baby, your son didn’t fuss or cry—strangely enough—unless he was really uncomfortable or in need of something like food and diaper changes.

You were exhausted but so over the moon. High from your new motherly hormones and instincts and so in love with the little bundle of sunshine that had already grown adorably chubby since you birthed him what felt like yesterday.

Toji would inappropriately say, “You’re feeding him way too goddamn much woman, look at him—he’s fat.”

You gasped like he had personally insulted your work—and though your son was a spitting image of your husband—he was saying ugly things to your masterpiece.

“Toji!” Whenever you’d call him by his actual name, it meant something serious.

“He’s not fat, that’s such an ugly word! He’s perfectly healthy!” You frowned, pinching one of Megs squishy cheeks.

A baby coo came from him and you could swear this was more addictive than any substance on earth.

Rummaging around for something in the fridge, Toji finally replied. “Shit, Megumi, leave some milk for the rest of us.”

As if he also didn’t help you with your clogged milk ducts when your son couldn’t have more milk…

And funny enough, Toji was grabbing another bag of breast milk from the fridge for his cereal—just his way of helping with your overproduction…

You rolled your eyes. “No curse words. And are you sure you’re not the one draining the milk supply?”

He took one look at you and smirked. “Me? Draining the milk supply? I don’t think we could ever drain the milk supply with how much milk you produce, babe.”

“Huh?” But you take one look at your shirt and see the white liquid start to leak through your nursing bra.

“Oh not again!”

Over the months, your little partner in crime started to develop his features more.

At the beginning, when he was freshly born, people would tell you that the deep blue color of his irises nestled in his eye sockets would change with time.

“Babies change eye colors all the time!” , is what they said. And Megumi was born with sea blue eyes that confused you as his father has green eyes and well…

But it was on a sunny morning that you woke up unusually refreshed with your baby boy squished between your body and his father’s body as you like contact sleeping with him.

It’s a risk, yes. With Toji’s large figure being prone to roll over and squish him to death—but you realised that your husband is actually very careful with how he sleeps when Megumi isn’t in the bassinet.

He sleeps facing you with a large hand resting on his son’s cute belly. That way he won’t turn over where his hand is, and he is aware of Megumi at all times.

Like usual, you wake up earlier than them. The sight of two sunlight-bathed boys greeting you warmly and making your insides fuzzy under the covers.

Sensing his mom awake, Megumi slowly starts to wake up. Little mouth opening and closing, baby coos subconsciously escaping him while you stare with hearts in your eyes and a heart about to explode from cuteness.

Not being able to move since he’s wrapped up like a burrito, your baby is limited to only facial expressions and sounds.

You remember waiting for him with a smile gracing your still sleepy face. And then your jaw dropping when his eyes opened, sunlight uncomfortably hitting him but revealing a beautiful shade of light green.

“Oh my god…” you whispered, the exclamation escaping past your lips before you could stop it.

Seemingly enough for your husband to stir awake too, a low grunt comes from Toji who opens his eyes at the sight of his wife gawking at his son—propping herself up with one arm.

Throat dry and raspy, a hoarse “Mornin” pulled you out of your thoughts as your husband’s words resonated and traveled through your whole body.

“Good morning, ‘ji.” You whispered back, mindful of being close to Megumi’s ears. Toji shot you a raised eyebrow and you smiled back.

“Look.” Pointing a finger to your sons still drowsy, puffy morning face. Taking a look at the carbon body and not putting together what he was supposed to be looking for, he gave u another confused look.

“His eyes.”

And only then did Toji realise that his son had manifested yet another feature of his.

“I’m so grateful he looks just like you.”

You learned that Toji didn’t really like that his son looked like him. It broke your heart whenever he’d express how it’s a shame they’re so alike.

A part of you died inside when he would say things like “The world doesn’t need more men like me.”

Because it really does.

He’s so good. Toji is such a good man.

You start crying when he says such things. Why does he think like that?

So he feels guilty when the words slip past his lips. Finding your still somewhat hormonal state crying over 8 words.

“Shit, I’m sorry, baby.”

Strong arms wrapping around you from behind as your hands still held onto Megumi’s small feet on the playground floor.

He was in between your legs, curious eyes watching both of his parents in front of him. Too young to understand that you’re crying and that his father is guilty for causing it, but smart enough to know you’re sad.

So his little paws start moving—kicking—while he laughs.

You stop your sniffling, unburying your face from Toji’s arms around your shoulders, broad back against yours, and peer down at your bundle of joy.

“So everytime I look at him, I can still see you.”

Toji kept the comments to a minimum ever since then.

But you still noticed his struggles.

The tremor in his hands when he picked up the tiny body sometimes.

The void, distant look in his eyes when he pushed Megumi on the swing at five months.

Your stomach churned.

You know Toji.

You have lived, breathed and seen every part of Toji to know that he isn’t doing well living with fear.

A man that has lost so much doesn’t know how to live and love if he’s scared.

And he’s so scared.

You see it when he rocks Megumi to sleep, the little squeaky laughs spilling from him and settling deep into his father’s bones.

You see it in the sorrowful look he holds on some mornings while he looks outside the window, coffee mug in hand—black, always.

“ ‘ji?” You call out to him, hoping it’s enough to pull him out of his head as you scoop up some more sauce and feed a babbling baby.

Perched on your hip, you against the counter, Megumi has his new favorite breakfast—apple purée. Last week it was oatmeal, now he can’t stand it.

Toji turns around. Dark green eyes finding you and noting the sweet smile on your face. He grunts to let you know he’s listening.

You put the spoon down, and quickly wipe the remaining food at the edges of your sons mouth before bringing him close to you, kissing his forehead, and pressing your cheek against his.

“Toji, look at how adorable our son is!”

Which really translates to.

You are here, with us.

You’re a new man.

You’re mine.

You’re worth it.

Stay with us.

He knows.

Pushing himself off the couch and dropping his mug in the sink, he comes up behind you, hands finding their place around you—on your lower stomach where he used to cradle your bump.

He misses it sometimes.

You carrying him around, the quiet nights, the interesting cravings you’d get before the sun even though about crawling over the horizon again.

But he loves Megumi more than he’d admit.

“Yeah, you’re both cute.”

“Sometimes I find myself wishing you had given me another child. Maybe a girl.”

“Megumi is walking now and I just…I feel like if I blink, he’s going to be all grown up and I’ll be alone, you know?”

You wish he would reply.

Say something cocky like he always used to do, “I can make you a mommy again, easy work.” Or something like that.

No, gosh, you’d do anything to just hear his voice again.

Another tear slides down your nose bridge, dangling off the tip of it, threatening to fall on one-year-old Megumi’s messy hair.

In your lap is your son at an age his father never got to see him reach.

With new achievements on his back.

He walks now, knows a few words, feeds himself sometimes, sticks his tongue out when he thinks you’re not looking—even though you think he’s not aware of what he’s doing yet.

Probably his uncle Shiu’s doing.

You wish he were closer to you.

On ground level.

Not buried underground and looking down at you from the sky.

Right next to you.

Holding Megumi like when he was born.

Poking at his sides, making him laugh.

Making you laugh.

You desperately wish he were loving you right now.

You wish his love wasn’t recorded in the house he built for your family, or in the wedding ring you wear.

You wish it weren’t recorded at all.

Instead, that he were here to still give it to you.

But you have Megumi.

Who loves you like his father did.

So he still left a part of him with you.

“Thank you, my love.”

“Dada!”

Megumi points at the stone in front of him.

A strangled cry breaks out from deep in your chest.

Your hands tighten their hold around Megumi who is pressing his hands over the white roses you brought.

The grey stone is a sore sight.

“Yes, gumi. That’s papa.”

And you'd still do it all over again.

Meet him at the corner shop, fall in love, help him, marry him, love him, and lose him.

If it meant you could live life with him again, you'd do it over and over again if it meant losing yourself in his eyes, feel his warmth—the familiar press of his muscles against you, keeping you safe—you would accept losing him again and again even if it destroyed you.

Maybe one day, you'll wake up.

On the other side of paradise.

When Megumi has his feet well into the ground.

And see Toji waiting for you in the distance, exactly the same as he was when he left you.

And you would re-learn him all over again.

Without ever growing tired.

Idk if this is happening to anyone else but I've been losing my posta and drafts over and over help😭, I'm proud of my post aesthetic lately.

Some hugs for comfort in the masterlist.

“that’s it. doing so good for me” toji coos, his rough & big hands gripping your hips bouncing you up and down in his cock. the room is quiet except from the wet, squelching sounds of your stuffed pussy.

moans still out of your lips uncontrollably, your boyfriend thickness scretching you perfectly. you feel so good, hiding your head on his neck muffling your filthy sounds.

he is smirks at your evident pleasure, hands cupping your ass now to grind you on his cock harder. his other hand goes down to your pussy, his digits slipping thought your soft folds finding your puffy clit.

you can’t help but let out a soft cry, the feeling too much tears slip down your cheeks, wetting his neck.

toji feels it, hands going to your face making you look at him. he smirks harder now, your teary face and your smudged mascara making even harder — if possible.

“feels good? does it, pretty girl?” he hums

“y-yes, ji.. it does” you whimper out, legs burning of bouncing on your boyfriend.

“ of course it does. so good you crying” he says, kissing your damp lips.

you feel it, stomach tightening. tears keep spilling, and now moving on top is even harder. you cry, and toji can’t help but feel a little bad.

“come on, pretty girl. i know you can. do it for me” he praises

“can’t toji— i need to cumm” your fucked out voice making him desesperate, grunting quietly.

his hands are on your lower body again, moving you on his lap harder & faster. you can feel everything, veins creating friction and the tip of his cock hitting that spot inside you. god, you are so close.

“ im - im going to cum” you breath out, too full of your boyfriend

“cum for me pretty girl, fuck, c’mon” toji orders, breathing heavy

it just takes a few thrusts to come all over his cock, moaning out his name. he follows you, filling you up with his creamy, white liquid.

you lay your head on his chest, out of breath, legs aching. toji pulls out carefully, helping you get comfortable on the bed. you whimpered l too sensitive everywhere.

your boyfriend chuckles, finding it cute.

“wait here. where is that shit you have to take of your makeup? you look like a panda.”

dua’s notes — hey… is this thing on? 🎤🎤

figure it out

Fushiguro Toji x reader

The first thing to know about coparenting with Toji is that it’s easy. Sure, when he ended whatever the hell it was that you two had going on over a year ago, you did not take it too well. But now, you’ve got a five months old Megumi taking his afternoon nap while you work from home and Toji’s supposed to come over later to see him. 

It has been a bit challenging, the whole being pregnant with his kid. You and Toji weren’t a thing, or at least not the kind of thing that’s supposed to have kids. He had ended your odd and very noncommittal relationship so that he could actually commit. To someone who was not you. Her name is Hana. And he now has a one-month-old infant with her. 

Toji feels the eyes plastered onto him.

He feels every bat of lashes, every movement of a glance at his sleeping face, his subconscious acknowledges it, and goes into a slight fight or flight. He whines as he forces his heavy eyes to open-

Only to gasp in fear as his subconscious was right: there’s a pair of blue eyes watching him, unblinking as they stare intently at him, their gaze puppyish and innocent with the slightest glimmer of guilt.

He groans, “talked about this, megs.” He presses the heel of his hand against his eye to rub them awake, “you can’t scare daddy awake like that.”

Megumi gently nudges his empty sippy cup towards his father, not saying anything as he blinks those sleepy blue eyes at him. Toji sighs and grabs the cup, “yeah, I’m on it.” He bonelessly shambles out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, uncapping the sippy cup before bringing it to the faucet of water. He smacks his own lips before filling the cup slightly- stopping briefly to slurp its contents down his own throat- before filling it all the way with the chilly water from the tap. He caps the sippy cup and shuffles back to the bedroom, scratching his stomach on the way.

He screws his eyes shut to try and soften the sting of being awake from them- only to then jump in surprise when there’s no child next to his bed.

Strange.

That is, until there’s a small coo from his bed, and Toji snickers and scrubs his face with his free hand. He shakes his head as megumi nuzzles his face deeper into the pillow that once cradled his fathers head, much bigger than his, with the blankets hiked high on his tiny shoulders while he sleeps soundly. Long lashes rest against his cheeks, lips parted just barely to let air puff in and out, and he looks so damn cute toji doesn’t have the heart to move him.

He sighs and lifts the blankets, slipping under them to lie into the small bit of bed megumi left for him; the sheets are cold from lack of use, but Toji doesn’t mind.

Instead, he curls up behind his tiny boy, kisses his soft head of hair, before letting his eyes close once more, eager to catch some more sleep before Megumi wakes him up in about four hours.

Exactly how he’d like it to be.

there’s a small crash that comes from tsumiki’s bedroom, one that has toji’s head immediately whipping from the cleansing of dishes after a dinner you’d graciously cooked for him and his kids- he told you not to worry about it. you promptly told him to “shaddup.”

dropping the plates out of his hands, he immediately flies down the hall to the small girl’s room, adrenaline pumping through his veins hard enough to block out the laughter that follows with the crash.

he slips on the stupid runner in the hallway- he’ll never call it stupid to your face but it would be nice if it would stop tripping him at night- before cartoonishly letting his legs flail out for more speed, finally arriving at the open door of his child’s room.

where you are.

where you’re plopped on your knees in the center of the room with a wide grin on your cheeks. you’ve got a pillow encased in your two fists to provide a more controlled swing, allowing you to be more gentle in your pillowed-swats against them. tsumiki, however, swings the pillow with the force of excitement, sending you tipping back before coming back straight. megumi, to toji’s absolute shock, is in on the fun too, one of tsumiki’s unicorn plushies prodding its horn against your ribs. in response, you jerk and collapse to the side, sticking out your tongue briefly in theatrics before coming up straight while his kids howl with laughter.

laughter toji hasn’t heard from them in a long time, from their tummies that has the two kids clutching their sides in amusement.

there’s a tightness in toji’s throat as he watches you all, a smile of relief on his face as you, naturally, easily, fit like a puzzle piece with his two kids, almost as if you’ve been there the whole time. he’s never seen his kids open up so smoothly.

he’s never seen megumi break out of his shell.

he’s snapped out of his thoughts as you suddenly let out a dramatic roar, arms darting out to scoop megumi in them. you pin him to your chest, tsumiki immediately gasping and offering her brother a squealy “i’ll save you!” before throwing her pillow to the side and running towards you- only to be scooped up by you as well. you noisily pretend to bite their cheeks, occasionally blowing a raspberry against them to make them squeal and giggle at the strange feeling.

“daddy, help!”

immediately, you pause, head whipping up to toji and eyes wide, caught red handed. you look worried, almost, as if roughhousing with his kids is going to be far off limits. you clear your throat and let them go, “i think it’s time for bed, kids.”

they whine out. you swallow thickly as toji sighs, as realistic as ever to make your heart race. you slowly stand up, and the two kids watch as you go from monster to timid just under the beady eyes of toji. “i was just…”

his head tips mockingly as he listens to you stammer a silly excuse about how they weren’t tired and you simply were trying to help them out. he pretends to care, but it doesn’t last long before a small smile on his cheeks. you gasp at the realization that he’s being dramatic on purpose, immediately running up to him and shoving his chest, “you’re so mean!”

“i’ll show you mean,” he snickers, big arms immediately wrapping around you. you shriek as you’re swiftly manhandled over his shoulder, fists banging into his back while his arms pin your legs. he snaps his fingers at his two kids, “bed. c’mon, you tiny terrors.”

“okay daddy,” comes their reply, but there’s no pout in their face as they swiftly climb into their beds, giggling softly as you laugh and struggle in toji’s grasp.

he tells them both good night from the door frame, waiting for them to wish you both a good night as well, before closing the wooden door of their bedroom nice and tight and making his way down the hall.

not before drilling his free fingers into the back of your thigh to make you shriek with laughter.

laughter that soon follows megumi’s and tsumiki’s from the other side of the door.

and toji makes a note that he could get used to this as he brings your flailing body down the hall.

"C'mon, open your legs."

Having suddenly grown self-conscious, you stilled quietly. Toji weakly slapped the side of your thigh, hurrying you to give him access.

"What, you don't wanna do this anymore?" The man grumbled, seemingly unimpressed as his arms folded over his chest, a trimmer sitting idly in his grip. "You were beggin' me to five minutes ago, no?"

"Yeah, but I'm—”

"Don't tell me you're embarrassed," he groaned, reaching to try to pry your knees open once more. Immediately, you tensed harder.

"But I can't see down there, I don't what state it's in!" You whined, hands grasping at his wrists. Ever since your bump had started to protrude outwards, you've been unable to maintain the upkeep of your thriving pubic hair—the rapidly adding weight of your stomach making it impossible to bend forward completely.

"Shut up. I've seen it a hundred times, hairy, spiky and bald."

"I haven't shaved for ages." Feeling sheepish, your gaze drifted elsewhere to the walls of the bathroom, whilst a subtle frown curved your brows.

"Hey," Toji muttered, now tenderly stroking your skin with a calloused hand—hoping to bring some sort of reassurance, even though he's never been good at comfort. "So what? You think a real man would care about that?"

You shook your head, eyes flitting back to his blank face.

"Right, so open."

Reluctantly peeling your leg from the other, you relaxed your side into the plush cushions he'd arranged earlier. Without a fuss, he gently took hold of your ankle mid-air, pecking a small kiss to the sensitive skin before shuffling closer to hook it over his shoulder. Toji didn't look away, his dark eyes fixing onto yours as if daring you to retreat.

"Stay still," he chided softly with a faint smirk, a rare glint of amusement in his gaze, "unless you want an uneven cut."

"Don't make me kick you."

With one hand anchored to your inner thigh, his other hand carefully guided the trimmer through the coarse hairs—the low buzz of the little machine loud in the small bathroom.

Mindlessly looking up at him, your eyes caught the slight furrow of his brow. His smug expression had completely gone. You observed closer, discerning a heavy, almost sombre look in his verdant eyes as he watched the hair fall off.

"Toji?" you murmured, adjusting your position. "What's with the face?"

The man paused for a fraction of a second, his knuckles resting warm against your inner thigh. Letting out a low, defeated sigh, he grunted, "Nothin’." He continued to glide the blade above your tender skin, uttering something incoherently under his breath.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"No, I didn't."

He swept away the stray hairs with the back of his hand—his touch lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. The hum of the trimmer died down as he switched it off, the sudden quiet between you feeling incredibly intimate.

Toji leaned back just enough to inspect his handiwork, tilting his head with a critical, appreciative hum. "Not a single scratch," he said. After giving your ankle a gentle squeeze, he slowly set your thigh back down. Looking down at you from his spot between your legs, the man leaned forwards, bracing his hands either side of your pregnant body.

"Seriously, never ask me to mess with it again. I liked it exactly how it was." He steadily held your gaze for a beat, before closing the remaining distance between you two. Without a word, he rested the heavy, solid warmth of a large hand snuggly against the underside of your rounded belly. Toji stayed there for a quiet moment.

"You're carryin’ my kid, our kid,” he muttered, his roughened thumb tracing a slow line over your skin. “Stop worryin’ ‘bout how you look. You're beautiful to me anyway."

© 2026 sunnysenorita ⋆˚꩜｡

just clarifying that reader is on their SIDE okay, the position was kinda hard to describe ߹𖥦߹ i wish this was longer lol

thank you for reading!! gradient div is by me —please credit.