A Love Unlike Any Other

No cheaters here!

pairing - jjk boys

genre - pure crack + fluff

warnings!! - a little suggestiveness in Geto and Sukuna's parts but otherwise pure fluff

a/n - basically that trend about "how do you know for a fact that your boyfriend won't cheat on you?" I remember that one girl with her boyfriend who was obsessed with Pokemon, and then I thought of him being Yuuji, and here we are. These are really short, so like mini mini drabbles each.

Yuuji

"Babe? Can you explain the plot of Human Earthworm to me again?" You asked, sitting in bed with your phone camera pointed towards your boyfriend. He quickly swivelled around his gaming chair, abandoning whatever game he was playing to give you all his attention with the biggest grin imaginable.

"Movie order or timeline order because there's a huge difference babe. Movie order goes from main story to spinoff to sequel then another spin-off which actually plays more like the actual first part but not really and if you do it in timeline order you should actually start with the plot of the fourth movie because-" He rambled, getting up from his seat and walking about the room while gesturing his arms.

You hummed and nodded along to his words, trying to hold back your clear amusement at his excitement to your interest. "You can stop now baby, thank you for sharing." You chuckled, watching as he stopped right in his tracks. He looked confused but smiled nonetheless. "Anytime babe! Anything else you need?"

"Nope!" You chirped, blowing him a kiss. He grabbed your air kiss and held it close to his chest with a wide grin. Yeah, you could never mistrust that absolute dork.

Megumi

No words needed to be said as you tilted the camera towards your chest, a mass of black hair obscuring the camera for a second. Your hand combed through Megumi's soft hair carefully, occasionally scratching or untangling knots you come across. You held the camera even higher, and it showed your boyfriend dozing on your chest with a peaceful look. You removed your hand from his hair, placed it on the back of the couch, and waited.

Megumi turned his head to look up at you, confused, not noticing the camera. He pouted, grabbed your hand off the couch and placed it back on his head. You waited a few seconds before a loud muffled groan rumbled on your chest and he turned his head to pout up at you again. You could barely hold back your giggles at his absolutely betrayed face and began scratching his head again with a kiss to his forehead. He sighed with a smile and turned to snuggle back into his earlier position.

He was probably going to be pissed once he saw the video and while you'd never post it without his permission, he was absolutely never going to live this down.

Gojo

"Hey babe, can I ask you something?"

Gojo glanced up from his cereal bowl of ungodly sugary proportions and swallowed, nodding slowly with squinted eyes. A little offensive since he was the one who usually came up with the weird questions on the regular. You barely held back an eye roll but decided to keep going.

"How much do you love me?" You asked with a sweet smile. You didn't have enough time to blink before he teleported in front of you, gripping your shoulders with a mischievous look. His pupils fought against the stark blue of his eyes like an expanding black hole just itching to consume his irises. A wobbly smile sat on his lips as he slowed his breathing to contain his obvious excitement.

He quickly started listing hundreds of details about you, each more unique than the last. You felt your heart swoon when he paused to grin at you and kiss your cheeks as he rambled on and on with a dreamy sigh every time he took a breath and continued.

The video went absolutely viral for obvious reasons, but hey, you had him, and they didn't, so who really won in the end?

Geto

"Babe, what are you doing?" You chuckled, positioning your phone against a vase on the kitchen island, a little way from your husband who was standing over the counter. He grabbed you by the waist and kissed your neck with a soft smile.

"The girls were talking about going out shopping later, so I'm writing a list for each of you. It shouldn’t take long, but if you want to change first, that's fine. The girls said they'll be down in a second."

You plucked the phone from his hands and looked down at the screen with a barely hidden smile.

"Suguru, this just says 'whatever my loves want, they get'. This isn't a list?" You giggled while tapping the screen, "Also this note was made literally the day we went on our first date??"

He pressed a kiss into your hairline and glanced over into the camera of your phone.

"Hm, but it's the truth, isn't it?"

The video went viral in less than a day. Eventually, you had to make another video announcing that no, you would not be sharing your husband or his hair routine. Figures.

Nanami

"Hey honey, what are you up to?" You chuckled from behind the camera pointed at your husband. He glanced up from his position on the floor, giving you an incredulous but amused look. He sat in a mess of screws, tools, planks of wood, and papers filled with instructions.

"I believe I'm helping you remodel the living room to fit with your new interests. You put this table in the cart a few weeks ago, and I was hoping I could get it finished before we go out for dinner tonight."

You made a confused sound and turned the camera on yourself for a second.

"We're going out? Since when?"

"You mentioned a new restaurant had opened down the street from your office. I decided to make a reservation for tonight. If you'd like to go shopping for anew outfit before then, my card is on the counter top and I've already taken your purse so no switching them."

Your mouth gaped open like a fish for a second before a weird mixture of a squeal and giggle bubbled out of you.

"You're so sweet Ken!" You cooed, putting the phone aside and launching yourself at your husband, giggling and kissing him off camera. It took a week for the video to lose traction and it caused at least two divorces during that time. Not that you knew that, you were too busy snugging up to your husband on your weekly date.

Toji

You were lying on your bed, tilting your camera to face your dozing, specimen of a fiance. A miracle in itself that you managed to convince him to marry you, but that was a thought for another day.

"Hey babe? Would you ever cheat on me?" You asked innocently, carefully holding back a laugh as he cracked his eyes open to look at you very unamused. He kept staring at you as if his expression were answer enough, but judging from your matched expression, you wanted a verbal one.

"No, I will never cheat on you, ya little brat. Do you think I got time for all that falling-in-love shit again? You're stuck with me for life, got it?" He grunted, reaching out and grabbing you by the waist to pull you into his embrace. "Now turn that stupid phone off and sleep."

You snickered and kissed his cheek on camera with a soft "Thank you for answering baby."

If your viewers saw him smile and blush, no, they didn't.

Choso

You tilted your camera to face your boyfriend sitting on your couch. Your boyfriend sat with a pile of flowers, paper, ribbons, glue and other crafting materials, working intently with precise focus. His eyebrows furrowed tightly as he meticulously tied a mini bouquet together.

"Choso? What are you doing, love?" You asked from behind the camera, watching as your boyfriend looked up confused. When he noticed the camera, his eyes lit up with recognition, and he looked down bashful at his lap.

"Your little cousins said that they were jealous every time I bring you flowers when I drop by and that they've never gotten any flowers before so I wanted to make them their own for the next time we visit. Also, one for your mom because she's nice to me when we visit, and I wanted to say thank you to her for letting me date you." He said softly before turning back to his work with a slight blush on his cheeks.

His cheeks only grew brighter as the soft coo from you at his sheer adorableness.

Sukuna

You tried hard to hide your grin as you turned the camera towards your lover, glaring at some papers Uraume had left him. He always looked so hot while he was working, but right now, you had a mission to prove to the world that he was the biggest teddy bear ever. By the twitch of his eyebrow, you could tell he felt your eyes on him, so you decided to break the silence.

"Kuna, would you love me if-" you started before you were cut off by a long, drawn-out groan by your lover. He looked at you very unamused before dropping his pen and leveling you with a glare that would normally strike fear into anyone who dared look in his eyes. Except for you, of course. You thought it was hilarious.

"Yes I would love you if you were a worm, no I would not kiss my last ex to save your life because I would simply break up with you, kiss you and then claim you again, yes I would kiss you for a million dollars because you are the prettiest person in the world and no, you still can't hold it while I piss." He rambled off in a flat tone. You snorted and slapped a hand over your mouth as you nodded shakily. While you snickered at his attitude, Sukuna mumbled something about stupid humans and their even more stupid questions.

Yeah, I don't think he has the mental ability to look for anyone at this rate.

viltrumite mark is always finding some kind of excuse to be with his wife

a long expedition to another planet? oof sorry but he just has too many things to do on viltrum sorry *goes home and cuddles his wife*

Nolan banging his head against the wall because how TF is his son this down bad for a human, I just know he's SEETHING.

Anyway, here's a blurb, this is later down the line when reader is compliant for her safety:

"Dear, get up." Mark whined as he nuzzled his face further into your lap, you sat at the vanity rearranging your items for the umpteenth time, there wasn't much to do anyway.

"I refuse." He groaned into your thighs, arms locked around your legs. "I can't take the quiet or chaos of another expedition. I want to stay here, with you."

A knock resounded from the door. "Your imperial majesty? We're ready for your departure." That was supposed to be his cue to move, but he was still, his breathing soft as he sat on his knees and cuddled into your warm thighs. "Mark."

"Tell them to go ask dad. Or anyone else. Please, anyone else." He looked up at you with so much exhaustion and adoration, like he wanted you to lecture his attendants for asking him to do his job. You let out a sigh bordering on a hum, running your hand through his hair. "You can't stay here forever."

"No," he laid his head back on you, pressing his cheek against you now as your hand settled in his hair. "But I can stay for as long as I possibly can."

He wasn't moving, not now, not in 5 minutes, not in a while. Your expression became frustrated, standing up and ignoring his little whine as you moved away to get to the door.

"Dear— please don't. I'm not feeling well- I don't think it's good for me to go now-" His train of invalid excuses paused as he heard the door clack open a crack.

"He's still recovering from the injuries from his last expedition, check with his father or anyone with a high ranking to join you. Emperor's orders." Your smooth order was mostly imitation from when you heard him speak, Mark's expression went from surprise to glee.

The Viltrumite at the door didn't question you, they knew better. The door clacked shut and as if on cue, Mark's defined hands wrapped around your body and hid his face in your neck. "Thank you, thank you. I cannot express my gratitude enough."

You mentally cursed yourself for being so fast to break against that sad puppy dog look.

interrupted

author’s note ; inspired by this art (cr. to @ ng_a10 on X)

the heat between you two had been suffocating.

his weight pinned you down into the couch, hand firm against your waist, the other braced against the wall beside your head. the scent of him — leather, musk, and something undeniably him — clouded your senses as his lips devoured yours.

each kiss was deep, slow, intentional, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you. his tongue slid against yours, coaxing a soft gasp from your lips before he bit down, teasing. you felt the smirk against your mouth before he kissed you again — rougher, needier.

your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp as his grip on your waist tightened. he growled low in his throat, the sound reverberating through you, making your stomach coil with heat.

but then —

knock

you barely heard it at first. he didn’t stop, didn’t care. his lips trailed down to your jaw, your pulse, his teeth grazing —

knock. knock.

deep sigh left his lips, hot against your skin.

his entire body tensed. grip on your waist flexed before he slowly lifted his head, gaze dark and clouded. you could almost hear the grinding of his teeth.

“fucking hell,” he muttered, annoyed.

you bit your lip, trying to steady your breath. he looked down at you — your flushed face, kiss-swollen lips, the way your chest rose and fell beneath him — and for a second, you thought he'd just ignore whoever it was.

but the knocking came again, louder.

he pushed himself off you with a deep exhale, running a hand down his face before combing his fingers through disheveled hair. his entire body was tense., as he looked like he wanted to break something. or someone.

you sat up slowly, watching as he rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to calm down. then, with a forced, lethal smile, he strode to the door.

poor bastard on the other side had no idea what was coming.

| Park Jinyoung | Choi Dongsoo | MA TAESOO | Kwak Jichang | NA JAGEYON | BAEK SANG | LEE JIHOON | Seo Seongeun | Ryohei Kuroda | Shin Arim | Owen Knight | Paul Reynolds | Wooin | Ryu Juwon | Chris D’Char | Choi Sangho | Geto Suguru | INO TAKUMA | Hakari | Kamo Naritoshi | Jason Todd | Sylus | Caleb | literally any of your favorites!!

Bedroom Mishaps

💗F!reader, suggestive - Sukuna’s especially, vom, blood and period mention, hurt/comfort, fluff, est. relationships💗

smau masterlist • Taglist open!

🏷️: @kentochronicles @starlightanyaaa @parasite-b @hikariandptakchleb @pixelcafe-network

Yuji having one of those mini-remote-controlled trucks that he can control from his phone so he can follow you around your house. There’s a little camera in the front so he can see your feet shuffling across the floors of your home, and keep track of where you are. If he’s at your house, he still uses it too.

He’ll put little candies and snacks in the bed of the truck then drive it across the house into your room and on your bed so he can deliver them.

You can constantly hear the little motor of the damn thing, and when you try to trap the little truck under a bin so he can’t knock into your ankles anymore, you get a million calls from him.

“Baby?! Why’d you put me in a bin?!”

“Because you keep following me Yuji! And when you bump into my legs it hurts!”

He’s pouting over FaceTime while trying to control the truck at the same time, but the little wheels aren’t strong enough to escape.

Eventually, you do let him out because of his nonstop pleading; and maybe you do miss the sound of the motor signaling to you that your sweet, sweet boyfriend is actively trying to get your attention even if he’s miles away.

Idk if this will make any sense, but idc I need to write abt this man. Based off of this adorable video I saw. It just screamed sweetheart boyfriend!Yuji to me, what can I say?

I just. KNOW. Choso is the type of guy to let the alarm wake the whole neighborhood without letting go of your waist in the morning. He doesn't want you to leave the bed just yet, you're too warm, too soft...too cuddly.

"Mmmmh...just five minutes" that end up being 10... 15...30... A whole damn hour of him repeating those words with his deep, husky, sleep-drunk voice in your ear. "Five minutes and I'll let you go" and he nuzzles his nose further into the crook of your neck.

That's exactly why there's no chance you'll make it out of bed on time in the morning...

HEARTBEAT

summary you and jason's casual hook ups grew into three tiny humans that look a hell of a lot like him.

word count 2.9k

the first time you told jason you were pregnant, it was in the dim glow of your bathroom, hands trembling as you held out the test. the stark + on the stick felt like it was branding itself into your brain, your breath coming shallow as you tried to process what this meant—what this changed.

jason had been standing in the doorway, shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair a mess from sleep. you had woken him up when you bolted out of bed to take the test, too anxious to wait another second. he had followed, rubbing his eyes, muttering a groggy, “babe, what the hell—?” but when he saw you frozen there, test in hand, he didn’t need to ask. his whole body went still, the teasing dying on his lips as his eyes flickered between your face and the test.

neither of you had planned for jude. hell, you weren’t even technically together. what you had was easy—casual. a thing with no strings, no expectations. but now?

now there was no ignoring the weight in the air.

jason’s throat bobbed as he stepped forward, his hand brushing against yours before carefully taking the test from your fingers. he stared down at it, a muscle in his jaw twitching, and you braced yourself for—what, exactly? for him to freak out? for him to leave? for him to do the only thing he’d ever been taught to do and run?

but then he looked up at you—really looked at you. and what you saw in his eyes wasn’t panic, wasn’t regret. it was raw and unspoken, something deep and certain. and in that moment, you knew—neither of you would run from this.

somewhere along the way, between the nerves and the chaos, between doctor’s appointments where jason held your hand and whispered snarky commentary about the ultrasound tech (“babe, i’m pretty sure they’re just making up measurements at this point—no way her head’s that big”), between late nights where he passed out on your couch after spending hours assembling baby furniture (“if i have to put together one more goddamn crib rail, i swear to—”), between shopping for tiny onesies that made him laugh—daddy’s little sidekick, future vigilante, property of the batfamily—and bickering over baby names (“we’re not naming her that, jason.” “sofia is a good name, babe.” “sofia falcone, jason.” “...fair point.”), the two of you became something more.

it wasn’t something either of you sat down and talked about. there was no defining moment where jason said, i love you or where you asked him to stay. but he did stay. more and more often. he was there every step of the way—hands steady on your waist when your balance wobbled, lips pressed against your stomach in the middle of the night when he thought you were asleep.

by the time jude was born, there was no more pretending.

she came wailing into the world at 2:37 am, her tiny fists curled tight, her face scrunched in protest at the audacity of being born. you were exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open, but jason—jason looked at her like she was the most incredible thing he had ever seen.

"she’s perfect," he murmured, voice thick, eyes shining in the dim hospital light. his hand, rough and scarred from a lifetime of fighting, cradled her impossibly gently as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

and in that moment, as he gazed down at your daughter, his daughter, you knew— you were his. and he was yours.

a year later, you found yourself in almost the exact same spot—bathroom light buzzing faintly, pregnancy test clutched in your hands. only this time, the panic wasn’t there. this time, you knew.

jason walked in, still toweling off from his shower, his hair damp and messy. he barely got a glance at your face before his gaze dropped to the test in your hands. his lips parted slightly, processing. then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"no shit."

your only response was a breathless laugh, nodding as you turned the test toward him. positive.

jason ran a hand through his wet hair, exhaling sharply before he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. then, without another word, he left the bathroom.

"jason—?" you blinked, confused, before chasing after him—only to find him already scooping up jude from her playpen.

"c’mere, sweetheart," he murmured, settling the one-year-old easily onto his hip as she clapped her chubby hands against his cheeks. he turned back to you then, mischief dancing in his eyes as he lifted jude higher.

"guess someone’s getting a sibling, huh, jude?" his voice was soft, warm, and he booped her tiny nose with the tip of his finger.

jude squealed in delight, kicking her feet excitedly, oblivious to the weight of the moment. jason laughed, a full, genuine laugh that filled the apartment, and all you could do was shake your head, the emotion in your chest bubbling over into laughter of your own.

this time, there was no fear—just excitement.

colby was born nine months later, red-faced and screaming, but jason swore up and down that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

"she’s so damn tiny," he marveled, cradling her carefully in his arms, as if she might shatter.

you, exhausted but exhilarated, watched as he gently ran a thumb over the wisps of dark hair on her head. he looked different this time—less shocked than he had been with jude, more sure of himself. comfortable.

he had been a good dad with jude, but with colby, he was something else entirely.

the first time he held both of them together, jude pressing sloppy kisses to colby’s soft forehead while jason kept a steady hand on her back, something in your chest clenched. you had fallen for jason during your first pregnancy, but now, watching him with your girls, you realized something deeper—he was meant for this. for fatherhood. for this life with you.

and when he caught you staring, one arm wrapped around jude and the other securely holding colby, he only smirked.

"what? you wanna go for three?"

you had rolled your eyes, laughing, "let’s survive two first, todd."

the third time, it wasn’t planned—not really.

you and jason had settled into parenthood in a way neither of you had expected. it had been messy, chaotic, and full of sleepless nights, but it had also been good. damn good. jason, despite his gruff exterior, had turned out to be the kind of dad who let the girls paint his nails, who read them stories in funny voices, who carried them on his shoulders like they were royalty. he loved being a dad—he loved them.

but three? a third baby? you hadn’t seen that coming.

jason had been too busy wrestling a three-year-old jude and a two-year-old colby into their clothes for a trip to grandpa bruce’s house to notice how quiet you’d been.

"c’mon, guys, work with me here—jude, put your arm through the hole, not your head—colby, stop wiggling!" he groaned, exasperated as the girls shrieked with laughter, making a game out of escaping him.

jude was giggling so hard she nearly toppled over, using her half-put-on sweater as a cape as she ran circles around the living room. colby, ever her partner in crime, had already ditched her pants, throwing them over her head like some kind of victorious gladiator.

jason sighed, shaking his head as he rubbed a hand down his face. "they get this from you, y’know!"

he barely managed to get colby’s shirt over her head before they both took off, giggling as they ran toward your shared bedroom.

"hey—where do you think you little gremlins are going?!" jason called after them, but they were already gone, their tiny feet thudding against the hardwood. he groaned, pushing himself up from his crouched position, rolling his shoulders as he followed after them. "babe, i need backup—these two are insane today."

but when he stepped into the room after them, ready to tag you in, he froze.

you were sitting on the edge of the bed, hands gripping something so tightly your knuckles were white. your face was pale, like you’d just seen a ghost.

jude and colby, still shrieking with laughter, clambered onto the bed, bouncing excitedly. but jason barely registered them.

"hey… what’s wrong?" his voice had lost its teasing edge, turning careful, concerned.

you finally looked up at him, and the moment your eyes met his, his stomach dropped.

you held out the pregnancy test with shaky fingers.

positive.

jason blinked, lips parting as his brain caught up. his chest felt tight, his pulse thudding in his ears. you were pregnant. again.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the only sounds in the room were the distant hum of the city outside and the occasional giggle from the two tiny troublemakers on the bed. a thousand things must have been running through your mind, but jason—jason just looked at you.

then, out of nowhere, he let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head.

"jesus, babe—" he ran a hand over his face, then down to his mouth, like he was trying to hold back a grin.

before you could react, he stepped forward, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you clean off the bed, spinning you around.

"jason!" you yelped, gripping onto his shoulders, heart hammering.

"guess we're just a little too good at baby making, huh?" he teased, laughter bubbling up in his chest.

jude and colby, not understanding what was happening but thrilled at the excitement, started clapping and cheering, tiny fists pumping in the air.

"do it again, daddy!" jude giggled.

colby, eyes wide with mischief, added, "spin me next!"

jason only laughed harder, finally setting you back down, his hands lingering at your waist. his face was flushed, eyes bright—not with fear, not with doubt, but with something softer. something real.

he pressed his forehead against yours, breath warm against your lips as his voice dropped, just for you.

"three, huh?" he exhaled, grinning, voice softer now. "looks like we’re really doing this."

your hands were still trembling, but the way he was looking at you—like he already loved this baby just as much as the other two—settled something deep in your chest.

"yeah," you whispered. "we are."

when mia came into the world 9 months later, she was loud, stubborn, and determined to make an entrance—just like her dad.

your pregnancy with her had been different from the start. harder. more exhausting. you’d brushed it off at first, thinking it was just because you were chasing around a three-year-old and a two-year-old while growing another tiny human. but as the months passed, it became clear that this time, things weren’t going to be as smooth as they had been with jude and colby.

you were further along than you should’ve been when the contractions started. too early. too soon.

jason had been the one to notice something was off first. you’d been brushing off the discomfort all day, pretending the tightness in your belly wasn’t getting worse, that the nagging ache in your lower back wasn’t making it harder to move. but jason knew you—he knew when you were in pain, even when you tried to hide it.

"babe." his voice had that sharp edge of concern when he found you gripping the kitchen counter, your breathing just a little too uneven. his hands were on you in an instant, steady and firm. "what’s going on?"

"it’s fine," you lied, wincing as another wave of pain rolled through you. "i think i just overdid it today."

jason didn’t believe that for a second. his jaw clenched, and without another word, he grabbed the keys.

"we’re going to the hospital."

by the time you got there, everything happened fast. too fast.

the nurses barely had time to get you settled before things took a turn. the pain sharpened, and suddenly, the steady rhythm of the baby's heartbeat on the monitor wasn’t so steady anymore. there were voices, urgent but calm, doctors moving around you in a blur. you barely had time to register what was happening before a nurse leaned down, her voice gentle but firm.

"we need to get your baby out now."

jason’s grip on your hand tightened, his thumb brushing frantically over your knuckles as you looked up at him, fear creeping into your chest.

"it’s gonna be okay," he promised, his voice steady even though you could see the panic in his eyes. he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "i swear, baby, it’s gonna be okay."

you barely got the chance to nod before they were wheeling you away.

jason wasn’t allowed into the operating room at first, and that nearly sent him into a rage. he fought it, argued, cussed out more than one doctor, but in the end, he was forced to stand just outside as they prepped you for the emergency c-section. the longest minutes of his goddamn life.

when they finally let him in, you were already on the table, barely able to keep your eyes open. jason sat beside you, one hand gripping yours, the other stroking your hair back as he whispered, "you’re doing so good, baby. i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere."

and then—finally—after what felt like a lifetime, a sharp, furious cry filled the room.

mia.

jason let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his head dropping against your shoulder as a shaky laugh escaped him. "that’s our girl," he murmured, voice thick with relief.

you barely had the strength to lift your head, but when they placed her against your chest, tiny and red-faced and still wailing, tears slipped down your cheeks.

jason had never looked at anyone the way he looked at you in that moment. like you were his whole world. like he had never loved you more than he did right then.

"you scared the shit outta me," he muttered, voice rough, pressing a kiss against your temple. "but you did it. you did so good, baby."

mia settled against you, her cries softening as she nuzzled into your warmth. jason reached out, brushing a fingertip over her tiny, delicate hand. she grabbed onto him instantly, her little fingers curling tight around his.

that was it. jason was done for.

"yeah, okay," he whispered, voice cracking as he smiled down at her. "i guess you were worth the heart attack, kid."

now, your home is chaos—but the kind of chaos you wouldn’t trade for anything.

laughter bounces off the kitchen walls, mixing with the smell of vanilla and the distant hum of the radio playing some old rock song jason swears he’s not singing along to. flour dusts the counter, smudged across tiny hands and jason’s cheek, and the entire room looks like a sugar-fueled war zone.

jason stands in the middle of it all, colby perched proudly on his shoulders with her little fingers tangled in his hair, directing him like she’s remy from ratatouille. her giggles ring out as she yanks at his dark strands, her feet drumming lightly against his chest.

"mix faster, daddy! like this!" she tugs his head forward, making his hands jerk as he stirs the batter, and jason barks out a laugh, nearly dropping the bowl.

"i swear, you’re gonna make me bald before i hit forty," he grumbles, but there’s nothing but love in his voice, his grin wide and unbothered.

below him, mia is practically vibrating with excitement, bouncing on her toes so hard she might launch herself into orbit.

"my turn next!" she shouts, little fists clenched in determination.

jason groans, feigning exhaustion. "one tiny dictator at a time, kid—"

but then, his eyes dart to the side, and his expression shifts.

"jude, do not—"

too late.

jude, standing at the counter with an air of absolute authority, dumps a heaping handful of funfetti straight into the bowl. the colors scatter like confetti over a parade, sinking into the batter as she watches with a critical eye.

"it didn’t look like enough," she defends, completely serious, like she’s just saved the entire operation from disaster.

jason lets out a dramatic sigh, tipping his head back against colby’s hold. "of course it didn’t."

and then he looks over at you, catching your eye with that soft, love-struck expression that still makes your heart stutter after all these years.

that look—the one he’s given you since the moment you told him about jude. the one that never faded, not through three pregnancies, sleepless nights, or the absolute circus of raising three daughters together. it’s the same as it’s always been.

you shake your head, unable to fight your own smile as you cross the room, scooping mia up into your arms before tossing her onto your shoulders. her delighted squeal echoes through the kitchen as she clings to your head, fingers gripping at your hair.

"alright, chef mia, you’re up next."

jason watches you, still smiling, still in love, and the warmth in his gaze is enough to make your chest ache.

the four of you stand there—him with colby in his hair, you with mia on your shoulders, and jude taking her role as funfetti overlord way too seriously. the mess, the noise, the laughter—it’s everything.

and as jason leans over, pressing a batter-dusted kiss to your cheek, you know—this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

breezy's notes: everyone is getting babies bc i have HORRENDOUS baby fever and refuse to procreate with the roaches in the world today. instead i give jason 3 daughters bc he's a girl dad in my head 🙂‍↕️ this took so long not bc i couldn't write, no bc i am a pain in the ass about the graphics and couldn't figure out a title.

tags ⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭: @deansbeer @daylighted @bluemerakis @ultravi0lence14 @beausling @jensenacklesballsack @starzify @cowboysandcigarettes @honeyryewhiskey @bejeweledinterludes @unfortunate-brat @deanswidow @novarosewood @cosmicfireheart @theendofthematerialgworl @wassup-summer @cowboysandcigarettes @arkhamsbrat @stereotypicalbarbie @buckturd @bookdaddysworld @treeteaofversailles

gojo satoru | from a dream pg13, sad (angst lite) fluff, 2.6k summary: gojo satoru isekai’d into your satoru

It’s warm, his senses inform him. Warmer than usual for his afternoon solo nap on his luxury sofa. He twists, a heavy weight moves with him, on his chest.  Alarm doesn’t course through him, knowing his Infinity wouldn’t allow a harmful presence to get this close to him.  His hands have fallen victim to this presence, barely trapped underneath – whatever – it is. There’s a shuffling, a…humanoid shape on top of him? This person, he realizes, is snuggling closer, a cheek and nose nuzzles into his collarbones, a soft hum of “Satoru, cold.”   His fingers twitch, some part of his brain supplying blankets within reach, he pulls the  fabric around you, unclear what is happening. You  lay in dreamland, sleeping so soundly on his chest.  Not a threat, it would seem. He takes the moment to back track because what is this? What kind of illusion? It’s impossible for him to be trapped in a Domain like this?  But why would a curse want to…snuggle him? It’s odd. He can’t even sense cursed energy from you, from the immediate space, from anything really.  His hands tentatively fall to your form, fingers brushing fabric and exposed skin and you offer up even more softness. There doesn’t seem to be a talisman or spell on you, hiding your energy, keeping him plastered into this sofa. He pauses when you shuffle, pushing yourself further into him. Legs happily tangled, and even there, he notes, there’s warmth.  How does he disarm a Domain like this? There’s a ding! He tenses. As if summoned, your head pops up, eyes big, bright, meeting his baby blues with a smile, “They’re ready!”  He feels his hands clench, is it now? Whatever this sinister plan of yours is, hidden in the scent of chocolate and butter? It’s frustrating how the cold invades the space that was occupied by your form, it’s all adding up now, you’re going to do it. Use your energy and attack. He waits and waits, but it never comes. Confused as he sits up, uncharacteristically silent, the floor feels real. The sofa feels too sunken in to be false, a curse can’t create this as imitation. There’s a tv playing a show or movie, he can’t tell, soft trinkets scattering the console it’s perched on. And photos .  Homely, cozy, s…safe?  Where the hell is he? “Satoru, where’d you put the oven mit?” Using his first name, talking like you know him, what a minx of a curse you are. Drawers are being open and closed, he waits for a sinister fog to overtake him, instead the melody of your humming, as you explore the kitchen. The timer gets another ding! He stands, his body feels softer, hands going to his abs, he has them but also, insulation? His arms aren’t as defined, and what is he wearing?

An off brand tshirt and grey sweatpants? What the hell are these Cinnamoroll socks? And bangs in his eyes? His hair is soft and down?  Wasn’t he in his uniform, where’s his bandana, his eyes can’t be exposed to light like this for too long least he get a migraine–you, you’ve done something.  Pads into the kitchen cautiously, catches you removing the tray of cookies and placing them on top of the stove. “Soon as the timer goes off we can have one…although the chocolate looks so melty…” your hand reaches for one, Satoru knows it’s terribly hot and not a good idea, but what’s a curse coming up with such a domestic scene? Why with Satoru? He was at the high school right? Napping on his sofa– A gentle touch and tug at the top of his head, his eyes find you close. Too close, closer than Infinity should ever allow. His hands come to your hips, wanting to put distance between you two, instead steadying your form as you whisk away the cowlick’s in his hair,  moving long bangs away from his eyes. “There you are.” No. He’s not…there’s no reason for you to be looking at him with such soft eyes. This has to be a Domain, you have to be a curse. Why is your skin so human? Half a very warm, perfectly melted chocolate chip cookie is brought to his lips, “I won’t tell anyone.”  The gleam in your eyes a tad mischievous, a bit secretive, all too adoring. He takes a bite, too real to be fake, but what? Did you put poison in this? It’s all too real to be just a dream. Maybe his unconscious has finally caught up to him, maybe sleeping only four hours a day has backfired, maybe – “Satoru?” How do you say his name with such fondness? Like a delicacy. "You feeling okay?” "I’m…confused."  Honest, transparent, hopeful.  It’s stupid, to think a curse would be this docile and kind towards him, and yet, he doesn’t wager his skepticism as reason enough to lie to you. "Naps do that Satoru, I told you.” You’re pouting, putting your arms around his waist, pulling him in. Like a wave crashing to shore, his form greets your warmth again.  His hands around you, bodies sinking towards another, tender, natural. “It’s Saturday, we’re baking for Yuji’s recital, please tell me you charged the camcorder?” Camcorder? Aren’t smartphones enough? How old are you?  “ Kento insisted on it. You told me you kept one from your college days.” College?  “You’re gonna show me your rugby games later, remember?”  “Rugby?”  He sees you narrow your eyes, this is it, he expects the Domain to show it’s real form now, shift into darkness and danger instead, you pull his cheek. You pull his cheek. Gojo Satoru, The Strongest, getting his cheek pulled by someone…shorter than him. “Mr. Strongest Rugby Star, are you a liar Gojo Satoru?” Probably, maybe, but, why is he finding himself blushing? Grinning? “The Strongest doesn’t need to lie.” It’s playful, that eye roll and huff, the crossing of your arms. He doesn’t want to leave the feeling of your arms around him, pulls your hands back on his waist, hold him for a second closer.  So that he’s close enough to disarm your Domain, afterall. Not like he’s succumbed to whatever this Domain is? Whatever, it feels good, domestic, nice.  “Well The Strongest needs to find the camcorder so we can record our god-son Yuji in his first play.” Our? God-Son? Yuji?  Was Satoru fighting a curse with Yuji? Wasn’t he napping in his office? His brows furrow, he notes your head tilt, “Satoru? Baby are you feeling okay?”  

Your hand in his hair might certainly cure anything, wait, wait. That’s not true, you don’t even have RCT!  You don’t have cursed energy, what the hell?! Satoru snaps away, taking in the rest of the apartment. There has to be a loophole, an opening, a miss, no curse can be that human. There has to be a way out of this Domain. "Ryōiki Tenkai–” "What?” Nothing happens. Satoru looks at his fingers, he doesn’t have cursed energy either? He pulls your hands into an odd symbol, your hands lost in the cave he makes for a second before your middle finger is wrapped behind your index finger, “Say Ryōiki Tenkai.” “Satoru?....Ryōiki Tenkai?” He shakes his head, “No, with more confidence.” “Ryōiki Tenkai.”  You shake your hand a little, smiling up at him, it’s…cute. “Of course if this is already your Domain…and it depletes my cursed energy, there must be a seal I need to break…” mumbling to himself, you do that head tilt again, biting your lip, hand easily finding his cheek. “You okay Satoru?”

At his grin your frown only deepens.  He’s off. Maybe he got lost in one of his documentaries about physics and space, maybe it was something he read, you’re not too sure. Your Satoru tends to go all in once his attention is turned on.  You sigh. “Mmm… I don’t buy it but we need to get going. Where’d you put Yuji’s gift?” He makes a face, “Why would Yuji need a gift?” You shake your head, “I think it was in the closet right?  You hid it when you babysat him last time.” “I don’t babysit anymore…” Perhaps he can irritate you into loosening up your Domain.  You’re an odd curse, all life-like, all human.  It’s an interesting form you’ve taken on, someone cute, someone Satoru would chicken out of talking to. He can’t involve others in the life he leads.  Is that your Domain? Showing him something he’s stuffed away into the bottom of his heart? Meanwhile you’re taking his eccentricity for a conversation later. Lack of sleep? Lack of food? Lack of light, you turn on your heels that pauses his movements, he seems to brace himself – still with that odd grin. “When was the last time you showered?” Satoru lifts his arm to smell himself, “I smell clean.”   It’s not his usual cologne or deodorant combination but it’s nice, softer.  You lean in to smell him too, “You used my perfume again.” He? Again?  No, this is the first time he’s been trapped into your Domain– he’s not your partner, boyfriend, anything–stop! He’s getting pulled further and further into this story.  Damn, you’re a tricky curse aren’t you? All that gentleness is a facade to hide the disdain and violence, “I…can…” He looks up to find you dangerously tip-toeing on top of a very, very, not made to be stood on like that office chair, you’re gonna–shit!  Falling right into his arms, a carefully wrapped gift lands on your chest. “My hero!” Don’t…don’t …he wants to tell himself, but a part of him does give into that expansion in the middle of his chest, spreading a soft hue of pink across his face. “I told you, I’m The Strongest.”   Faster than he can plan for, your lips brush his cheek, “Why thank you Mr. Strongest Satoru, can you please use this strength to pack up the cookies for Yuji? I gotta change.”  He places you back onto the floor, you turn around quickly again, he tenses a little less this time, “ You have to change too.”

“Alright, alright.”  This feels nice.  He’s not sure what the motive of your Domain is but regardless, it feels nice. Maybe if he plays along it’ll end. Whatever this…perfect life seems to be.  Your Domain is so good though, his eyes trace the photos framed on the walls. Moments of a…fake life? Between you and Satoru. A graduation, a birthday, a trip to a lake…baby Yuji? Nanami’s a dad ?   There’s even a photo of this baby Yuji with a baby Megumi and Nobara too. How intricate is this Domain? What kind of curse knows his students and Nanami? His eyes search for more photos of you, only painting a picture of a totally normal human. Not a sorcerer, not a window, not…anything Jujutsu related. And his photos too, why’s he wearing hoodies in all of these? Why’s his hair soft and down, how is he smiling so brightly?  Why the fuck is Suguru alive? “He’s coming too, he’s bringing the companion gift to go with ours. Hurry, go change.”  You again, this can’t be…this can’t be. Don’t look at him like that, don’t bring him a change of clothing, don’t. He starts walking backwards, searching, trying to source where the fuck your cursed energy is but there’s nothing for miles and miles just the sound of traffic and an ambulance. “Where the fuck am I?” “Home…Satoru?”  Your voice quiet, smaller, your eyes showing very human emotion, face riddled with concern. This can’t be real, this can’t be real. Gojo Satoru is The Strongest, he’s a sorcerer, he needs to be out exorcising curses not here in some domestic bliss watching television and baking cookies.

He’s not some physics professor.  He flinches away from your touch, your vixen softness, get away from him. “You’re not…Satoru this joke isn’t funny please stop now.” He walks backwards, and backwards, until he trips on a leftover lego car and lands with the biggest thud.  His head feels heavy, he feels your soft hands on his face again, nails accidentally scratching his chin, voice full of emotion, concern, love? Why would a curse love him? “Baby, Satoru are you okay?” Don’t call him that. Don’t make his heart feel like that. As his eyes close, “Satoru?” “Satoru? “Satoru?”

💎

Gojo Satoru wakes up in his office, the luxury sofa stiff under him.  He sits up, eyes immediately searching for any curse energy, anything reminiscent of your shape, your form, your gentle smile.  “Finally, you back to reality now?” Principal Yaga, “I don’t know what kind of joke that was, don’t do it again.” He sits awake, the air lacking any scent of joy.  “We got a lead on the cursed object…” What the hell was that? 💎

He startles awake, hands over his head, pleading, “No, no, stop coming near me!”  Tumbles through the hodge podge of blankets toppled on top of him, bangs his knee into the coffee table, knocking his lesson notes and laptop to the ground.  “I’m….I’m back…?” A ding sounds through the apartment, he hears footsteps, knows those footsteps, blocks your path to the oven as he encases you in a koala grip hug. “Oh my god, you’re…you…” Kisses the top of your head, fighting all your protests to push away from him and get to the chocolate chip cookies, “Satoru, we are not eating burnt cookies. Move.” “No!” “Gojo Satoru off!”  He only tightens his hold. “No, no, no!” He just woke up from a terrible dream, a ridiculous no good, no happy ending, lonely dream.  He looked hot though. But when is he not hot? “Okay, okay, Gojo Satoru The Strongest, please, let me get to the cookies?” Your hands on his waist as you squeeze his hips. The Strongest? How do you know about that? He pulls you back, hands on your shoulders, leaning down,  those beautiful baby blues searching your eyes, you’re really, you right? You’re really his–”Baby, are you sure your head is okay?”  That soft hand to his cheek, that familiar scent. "I woke up from a bad dream.”  You squeeze his cheek, “Let’s talk about it okay? But the cookies..”  He narrates it, waking up in an empty office, a man, Principal Yana or something, forcing him into a car with a nervous businessman. Then a volcano head attacked him, “Like straight up, Mt. Fuji and all the fire just, fwoosh.”  His fingers make waves above the tuft of his soft platinum locks. "I called your number over and over and it didn’t work.”  That…warms your heart. “You woke up in a dream and looked for me?” He looks at you funny, like you’ve stated the sky is purple, that he stayed in the band with Suguru and they’re touring Australia right now –”Why wouldn’t I look for you?” 

Satoru, pulling you into his lap, pushes his face into the crook of your neck, “They wanted me to fight monsters and I wanted to be here with you. I had abs though.” "You still have abs, Satoru.” Your hand pulls a cookie from the plate, bringing it to his lips, “you know what I mean.” He mumbles while taking a bite. “I was like jacked. I wore this thing on my eyes but I could see everything, I could see like – like –  energy particles, shit I should’ve researched if–”  you grin. He’s falling into his usual auditory processing habit. Enthusiastic about anything physics, the universe, energy particles and atoms and just that look he gets. When he talks about his passions, the way his eyes light up, the way his mind is catching up to his speech, his whole body getting involved in the monologue, pulling you up, “Wait, I gotta write this down.” Refuses to put you down, takes you into the makeshift office and pulls out a dry erase, “They kept calling it Infinity? The force field around me, and then there was this…Ryo…bankai, thing–but babe, it doesn’t make sense, how could one human concentrate–” There he is. Your Satoru.

when someone interrupts sexy time

ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, higuruma, shiu, ino, shoko, uraume

ʚ cont: suggestiveness, crack

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

# STRAWBERRY BABY .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : 𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥, 𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯'𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥...

☆⁠ NOTE : 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

Your life was supposed to be perfect right now. You just gave birth to your beautiful baby—a moment that should have been magical, joyous, and filled with happy tears.

Instead, you were losing your mind.

Because the baby in your arms… did not have black hair. Not even a single dark strand.

No.

Because the baby—the tiny, fresh-out-the-womb infant that you had just spent hours screaming into existence—was blonde.

Blonde.

BLONDE.

And he looked exactly like Jason.

Now, for most normal people, this wouldn’t be an issue. In fact, it would be a cute, happy moment—"Oh wow, he looks just like his dad!"—but you? No. You were spiraling. Because Jason had black hair. Jet black. Dark as the night. Dark as his soul (romantically speaking).

And your baby?

Your baby had a tuft of blonde hair that made him look like a tiny cherub sent straight from heaven.

Which made no damn sense.

You hadn’t cheated. Hell, you barely even looked at other men since getting together with Jason because—let’s be honest—your man was already borderline psychotic when it came to his jealousy.

So, if you had cheated (which, again, you HADN’T), you would already be dead. There would be no hospital room. No baby. Just a Jason-shaped shadow standing over your shallow grave.

But that didn’t change the fact that you were staring at your son, this tiny, beautiful baby with blonde hair.

Which would be fine. If Jason had fucking blonde hair.

But he didn’t. He had black hair.

You were a hundred percent sure of that. You had run your fingers through that thick, inky hair so many times. You had tugged it when he pissed you off. You had yanked it when—

That didn’t matter right now.

Because either you had just given birth to the wrong child, or—OR—

“Oh my God,” you choked, your voice cracking as you looked at the baby in your arms with sheer, bone-deep horror. “Jason’s going to think I cheated on him.”

The room went silent.

A nurse looked at you with wide eyes, hesitating mid-step. Alfred, ever the picture of composure, cleared his throat, carefully folding a tiny onesie. And Dick—because of course Dick was here—froze mid-bite of his celebratory snack, a hospital pudding cup, before slowly turning to you.

“Uh… what?”

“I didn’t cheat on him,” you gasped, convulsing in hormonal sobs as you clutched the tiny baby closer to your chest. “I didn’t! I swear I didn’t!”

“I mean, obviously,” Tim mumbled, looking more alarmed at your emotional breakdown than at the situation itself.

But you weren’t listening. You were spiraling, your voice getting more frantic.

“Oh my God. What if they gave me the wrong baby?” you whispered, eyes darting wildly around the hospital room. “What if some poor woman out there has my real baby? And I have hers?”

“Miss, please,” Alfred sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Damian, perched in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, made a disgusted sound. “That’s your child, idiot. It looks just like Todd.”

“NO, HE DOESN’T!” you wailed. “JASON HAS BLACK HAIR!”

Damian just scoffed. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I—WHAT?!” you shrieked.

Dick sighed dramatically, putting his hands on his hips. “I can’t believe we have to do this right now. Jason’s gonna lose his mind.”

That set you off even worse. Jason’s gonna lose his mind?! Oh God, oh God, he was going to think you cheated. He was going to leave. He was going to storm in here, take one look at the baby, and—

You sobbed harder. Ugly cried harder.

Bruce actually looked like he was reconsidering every decision that led him to this moment.

“Uh, wow,” Tim muttered.

“I didn’t cheat,” you repeated, voice breaking. “I mean—how would I even have the time?! Jason’s always around! He’d kill anyone who looked at me for too long! It doesn’t make sense!”

“Why are you trying to convince us?” Damian scoffed. “Shouldn’t you be telling Todd?”

Your stomach dropped.

Jason.

Jason wasn’t here.

Oh, God. Oh, fuck.

“I—I love him so much,” you sobbed, clutching your little (wrong?!) baby. “I—oh my God—what if he leaves me?! What if he thinks I—Oh God, he’s gonna think I cheated, and I didn’t, I swear—”

“Jason’s going to break the door down when he gets here,” Tim muttered, rubbing his temples.

“No, he won’t,” Bruce grumbled.

CRASH.

Jason absolutely broke the door down.

It slammed against the wall so hard that even your baby, who had been peacefully asleep through your meltdown, flinched.

"Fucking Gotham traffic, I swear to—"

He froze.

You were crying.

Sobbing.

Hysterical.

His brain ran a million miles per hour. Did something happen? Did you change your mind about the name? Did one of the nurses insult you? Did he leave the oven on? Did someone die?

His eyes darted to the baby in your arms.

Tiny. Swaddled. Breathing.

Okay. Not dead.

So why the fuck were you crying like this was a damn crime scene?

"Uh," Jason started. "Baby? What’s wrong?"

You let out another broken sob, clutching the baby to your chest.

Jason panicked.

You started crying so hard you couldn’t even get words out. Just absolute, gut-wrenching sobs while Jason rushed to your bedside, grabbing your face.

“Baby, baby, what’s wrong?!” he panicked, his voice an octave higher. “Did they hurt you?! Are you in pain?! Do I have to kill someone?! Is it Bruce?! I bet it’s Bruce.”

Bruce exhaled through his nose, deeply unimpressed.

It's just made you cry harder.

"Oh, God—what happened?! Are you okay?! Is the baby okay—"

"Jason, I SWEAR I didn’t cheat on you!" you blurted out.

Jason blinked.

Everyone collectively flinched.

"…What?" Jason said, voice flat.

"I didn’t cheat! I would never cheat! I love you, and you were my first, and I would never, I would never, I—"

"Baby," Jason said slowly, trying to wrap his head around this absolute fever dream. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

You let out another shaky breath, eyes darting around the room in pure panic. "T-the baby, Jason. Look at him."

Jason frowned, stepping closer. He looked at the baby. Looked at you. Looked at the baby again.

"…Yeah?" he said, confused.

"He has blonde hair!"

Jason blinked.

Then blinked again.

Then turned to the rest of the family like they had the answers.

Dick rubbed his temples. "Jay."

Jason turned back to you, lips parting like he was about to say something, then stopping. Then opening again. Then stopping.

“I swear I didn’t!” Your sobs renewed, your shoulders shaking as you held up the tiny, peacefully sleeping baby. “But look at him! He has blonde hair! He looks exactly like you! But you have black hair! I think I got the wrong baby, or I cheated on you in my sleep, or maybe you’re going to leave me—”

Jason stared.

Then he turned, slowly, toward the rest of the room. “…Did you guys let her spiral like this on purpose?”

“Yes,” Damian said, unbothered.

“Absolutely,” Dick grinned.

Jason inhaled deeply.

Then, to your absolute shock, he let out a long, tired sigh—before shoving a hand through his hair and grumbling, “I fucking forgot you didn’t know.”

You hiccupped again. “Wh—what?”

Jason gave you a flat look. “Babe. My hair. I’ve been dyeing it black since I was a kid.”

Your breath caught. “Huh?”

“Because of him,” Jason added, jerking his thumb toward Dick, who just wiggled his fingers in a smug little wave.

Silence.

More silence.

The world stopped.

The Earth stopped spinning.

Your breath hitched. "You…"

Jason nodded.

"You… had blonde hair?"

Jason nodded again.

You sniffled. Sniffled again. Processed this information.

Then immediately let out a loud, gut-wrenching, ugly sob and buried your face in your hands.

Jason Todd. Your husband. Your big, scary, six-foot-four, muscle-bound, leather-wearing husband. The man who used to be the meanest street kid in Crime Alley. The man who could disassemble a gun with his eyes closed and had murdered actual people.

Had spent his entire life dyeing his hair because he wanted to look like Dick Grayson.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, eyes wide.

Jason groaned, rubbing his face. “Babe—”

“Oh my God.”

“Listen, it’s not—”

“You mean to tell me I’ve been married to you this whole time thinking you had black hair, but you’re actually some kind of undercover blonde?!”

“Strawberry blonde,” Tim corrected.

Jason shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

You gasped, gripping his jacket like you might collapse. “You mean to tell me this baby is actually yours?”

Jason exhaled. Then he stepped forward, resting a warm, solid hand against your cheek before pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Yes, babe,” he muttered, lips brushing your skin. “He’s mine.”

"Oh my God," you wailed. "I’m so stupid."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa—" Jason sat on the bed, grabbing you. "You’re not stupid. You just had a baby. And hormones. And clearly, no one ever showed you my baby pictures."

"This whole time," you hiccupped, voice muffled, "I thought they swapped our baby, and I stole some random kid. I thought you were gonna leave me!"

Jason sighed, rubbing your back. "Sweetheart, I would never leave you. Especially not over our perfectly fine, baby."

Damian scoffed. "Tt. As if anyone else would willingly have a child with Todd."

Jason shot him a glare. "Not the time, demon."

Dick sighed, stepping forward and ruffling Jason’s hair. "Guess we should’ve mentioned that whole blonde thing earlier, huh?"

Jason glared. "You think?"

Stephanie shook her head. "I thought everyone knew. It's, like, a family fun fact at this point."

"I DIDN’T KNOW!" you shouted.

Jason pulled you into his arms, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. "It’s okay, babe. It’s okay. I promise."

You sniffled, eyes red and puffy. "So… he’s really yours?"

Jason pressed a kiss to your forehead. "He’s really mine."

You let out a weak whimper. "I wanna see your baby pictures."

Jason chuckled. "Alright, sweetheart. When we get home, I’ll show you all of them."

Tim crossed his arms. "I have them saved on my phone."

Jason turned his head. "Why the fuck do you have baby pictures of me on your phone?"

Tim shrugged. "For emergencies."

Jason squinted. "…What kind of emergencies?"

Tim smirked. "Like this one."

Jason pulled back, finally looking down at the baby in your arms.

And—oh.

The storm in his eyes vanished.

Replaced by something warm. Something deep. Something soft.

The big, scary Red Hood, suddenly looked—small.

Awe-struck.

Because there, curled in your arms, was a tiny, sleeping baby with blonde hair and soft little features that looked just like his.

Jason swallowed.

Then, hesitantly, he reached out, brushing his fingers over the baby’s little fist.

“…Holy shit,” he murmured.

Dick grinned. “You made a clone.”

Jason turned to you, eyes softening.

Then he kissed you—long, deep, and full of love.

“I love you,” he muttered, lips still against yours.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.