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selarina · 7 months

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AU where Gojo Satoru and you have been co-parenting Megumi and Tsumiki for 2 years now.

Warnings: fluff, reader wears a dress, questionable parenting, protective Megumi Fushiguro, pre-canon

It's a normal evening, Satoru is up, he walks into the living room and his gaze is drawn to the little brat whose gaze is fixed on the television screen — face blank. He knew getting cable was a wrong idea, but he relented once you insisted.

It's a normal evening but suddenly you walk in with your fingers rummaging through your purse's depths, donning a deep blue dress, a stark contrast to your usual muted clothing choices.

Satoru remained uncharacteristically silent, not knowing which question he could start with.

"Why are you dressed up?" A voice pierced the air, and he supposes the little brat who's walking up to you, posed a better question than anything that would have come out of his own mouth.

"I... " You faltered momentarily in your purse-rifling, and a few seconds pass before your attention finally shifts to the boy when you finally seemed to locate your phone.

"I have a date," your lips revealed, a smile tugging at the corners, like you were half-shy about it, half-eager too but Satoru would rather not delve into that.

"He should be here soon. How do I look?" You direct your question into the room when no one says anything.

Gojo has a barrage of jokes and insults dancing at the tip of his tongue, something that he knows you will think about on your ride to the restaurant or whoever this date of yours will be taking you, but alas, he is a simple man sometimes. "You look good," he responds.

Your gaze veered from the little one, traversing to lock onto Satoru. Your head tilted slightly, a bit amused, but mostly confused as though you didn't hear him clearly.

Satoru swallows, "Like a smurf," he adds.

At that, your eyes narrow as you stare at him as you most often do - studying him like he's a bizarre scrunkly-looking creature you'd relish dissecting.

He dons a cocksure smile after that, striding animatedly towards the couch as he casually chimed, "Good luck on your date."

You turn your attention to the little boy who will at least be earnest in his thoughts, "What do you think, Megumi?"

His response is swift. "You look pretty," he says, plainly, like it's a matter of fact.

A genuine smile stretches across your lips, and you have to suppress the impulse to pinch his cheeks – a gesture you've come to learn he's not particularly fond of. Instead, you strode forward as your fingers grazed against his raven locks in a silent acknowledgment of his words.

The doorbell tolled, its chime resonating and cutting through the moment as you found your footsteps receding from the living room and towards the door.

In your absence, Satoru could hear the shuffling and the muted exchanges, before they became clearer as the two of you seemed to walk into the living room.

"I'll just get my scarf. You can wait in the living room," you say as he watches you rush to your room.

Satoru's head inclined subtly, affording him a glimpse of the man who just walked in. His gaze remains on the man for a second before they shift back to the screen ahead of him.

A woman gets shot, and another man gets stabbed seemingly to death. Wow, that was 7 proper stabs. What has Megumi, the 9-year-old, been watching?

Megumi remained where he stood since you left to greet your date, he has been silently appraising the man ever since he walked into the living room.

"Hi," the man greets him, a smile that seemed to stretch up to the bottom of his eyes.

"What are your intentions?" Megumi's inquiry came out like a dagger.

"Uhm, I... " The man faltered, and Megumi decided that the hesitation got him some negative points.

"Well, um, good intentions. I promise," the man attempts under the little boy's growing hardening gaze.

But the moment washes over the man quickly when he watches you walk out of your room, pulling a cream-colored scarf snug from around your shoulders.

An apologetic smile graced your lips, "Sorry about that."

"No," the man clears his throat, his eyes still not leaving Megumi's gaze. Honestly, he was too scared to. "No worries," he managed.

You take in the scene, before you try carefully, "Okay, we'll get going."

Swift as a shadow, Megumi is quickly at your side, his small hand reaching up to tug at the fabric of your dress.

This was something he did quite often, upon your own request. Something about how some words are meant only for each other, and when that's the case you promised to lean down and hear him out.

Honestly, Megumi figures it has something to do with that one time he said something maybe a bit rude to a lady that was looking at you dirty for some reason. He could still feel the weight of the other people's stares as you had to talk down the lady – malevolent arrows flung from a stranger's bow, aimed squarely at you.

He couldn't understand it entirely but he didn't like how you looked after that incident and he has been following this ritual ever since. Tugging at your pants, and your skirts alike.

You seated yourself, careful so you don't flash your date too early into the night.

You meet his eyes, as he speaks, "Don't go."

The query hung in the air. And surprise danced upon the strings of your expression. That's odd, you can't help but think. Megumi's always been independent, letting you live your separate life as your own, but this is certainly new.

"I don't like him," he adds his confession.

"I could like him," is all you could say.

"You could?" He turns, doing one over on the guy who at this point is on his phone scrolling through something. Could be a settings app for all you know, but you appreciate the privacy he created.

"Maybe, I just want to know him."

"What if he attacks you or something?"

"Do you not think I'm strong?"

"You're the strongest person I know," his response comes out immediately to affirm you.

You stare at him, a bit surprised but a smile graces your lips. You'll take it.

"After him," he nudges his arm, gesturing to the man sitting on the couch, and you frown. You'll take it regardless.

"Alright, then do you not think I'll be fine?"

Megumi's frown deepens. "Fine," he concedes

"Okay, I'll bring you some dessert." You gently ruffle his hair, before you stand up.

You're long gone, saying your goodbyes one last time to Satoru’s rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, as Megumi watches the TV play.

Satoru plops himself next to Megumi, making him bounce on the couch just a little before he nudges him as he holds out a packet of cookies.

“You’re not supposed to give me that,” Megumi answers, choosing to side-eye the packet, his eyes keenly trying to focus on the scene in front of him.

“Says who?” He barely hears Satoru’s munched-up words.

Megumi doesn’t answer, still staring at the TV. He does want a cookie, if he’s being honest and he figures if someone’s getting in trouble with you later — it’s going to be the man next to him.

So, he reaches out, stretching out his hand to grab a cookie. He takes a small bite, chewing as he turns his head. He sees the man next to him plop two cookies into his mouth with ease. It annoys him how two whole cookies go into his mouth — all in one go, while the span of one cookie is just so larger than his whole hand.

Megumi swallows before he speaks up, "I spoke to him.” Satoru merely hums in response so he continues, “I scared the shit out of him. He’ll be good."

Megumi reaches over, taking another cookie.

Honestly, Satoru wasn't overly concerned, knowing more than anyone that you could handle such situations on your own. While he could only wish that you didn't have to deal with inconveniences, he had confidence in your safety.

But as Megumi's words start to linger and stain in his head, similar to the blood splatters on the TV, he simply took another sip from his cup before an inevitable smile etches itself onto his face.

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