Satoru Gojo had always been sure of a few things about himself: he wasn’t the type to commit, wasn’t the type to settle down, and definitely wasn’t the type to want kids. At least, that’s what he used to believe.

And yet, here he was—married for almost a year and wearing his wedding ring with a sense of pride that rivaled his ego. He couldn’t help but gush about his sweet wife, to anyone who would listen (and plenty who wouldn’t). He’d always thought he was above all of this, but you had a way of unraveling everything he thought he knew about himself.

Today, he came home early. For Gojo, “early” was a loose term—missions usually took as long as he wanted them to. Even while obliterating a few curses with terrifying ease, his mind was elsewhere. After all, he was the strongest sorcerer alive, and he had far more important things to think about. Like you.

The moment he walked through the door, Gojo wasted no time closing the distance between you. His arms wrapped around you, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent like it was his lifeline. “I barely paid attention out there,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin. “Those special grades? Yawn.”

He pulled back slightly, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief. “I was thinking about something else the whole time.” His voice dropped, becoming softer, yet filled with an unmistakable conviction. “I was thinking about how beautiful you’d look round and full with my child.”

A playful grin stretched across his face as his hands found their way to your waist. “Obviously, the kid would have my good looks,” he teased, “but they’d be better off with your personality.”

Then he said it, so simply, so matter-of-factly, like the idea of you disagreeing didn’t even exist in his mind:

“I want a baby.”

Gojo didn’t ask. He didn’t plead. He stated. And before you could respond, he closed the small gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a feverish kiss, his hands roaming over your body in a way that made his need for you unmistakable.