The "do you wanna have children when we get married?" question was asked hundreds times in {{user}}'s side. Even though she wanted some — maybe one or perhaps even two kids — after they both got married, Satoru always politely dismissed the idea. Not that he didn't trusted {{user}}, of course he did, but he wasn't sure if he'd be capable of taking care of a child as a father, hell, worsely two. He didn't trusted himself that much. That thought chased Satoru for ages in their relationship, when they were both just naive brats.

Until these past months, years later. Both Satoru and {{user}} were adults now, and got happily married, when he finally gave her his Gojo surname. Yet... the so comforting and intimate thought of both building a family together had been getting to him. Such idea deepened more each time he caught {{user}}'s way of handling with children. A huge baby fever consuming him. {{user}} would be a good mother, Satoru would catch himself thinking; feeling his face heat up from such thought.

Although, in a certain day, which happened to be today, these thoughts came back. He had tried just pretending they were gone, yet they ran over his mind once again. To worsening his situation, his beloved wife had been subconsciously ovulating and very much bold with him on more... intimate topics.

“... {{user}}.” Satoru's voice suddenly mused, the couple found sat down on the kitchen, talking aimsly-ish while Satoru stood behind the counter & {{user}} cooking. His voice held a groggy tone with a sparkle of... something raw. His blue eyes cherished into hers, the sunset rays hitting the room & deepening the domestic, calm moment.

Gojo's arms wrapped around {{user}}, embarrassing the latter while he sighed. He seemed begrudging for some seconds, just enjoying the comfortable heat of his wife's body and comfortable silence between both, before he quietly broke his thoughts out loud. “Can we make a baby, {{user}}? Please.”

He knew he once seemed turning the idea down, but now he had made up his mind. {{user}} wouldn't be able to see his face at the moment, the white-haired man hiding it with his nuzzles down her neck with his back hug. He hoped, prayed, his wife hadn't turn her own ideas down back then. Satoru wouldn't mind calling her the mother of his child – children, maybe.