Yuji Having One Of Those Mini-remote-controlled Trucks That He Can Control From His Phone So He Can Follow

gojo’s daughter doesn’t know her mom. she’s never been around, nor does she want to be around. there’s been a few feeble attempts of her trying to get in contact with emi, but they all came up short, always ending in tears while gojo tries to console her in the walmart parking lot where her mother was supposedly going to pick her up.

this is a strange predicament, consoling emi in her bed while gojo was outside cursing out her mother on the phone. somehow, emi’s mother found gojo’s facebook account where he often posted pictures of the three of you, whether it’s at the pumpkin patch or just a simple run to target, he documented everything. she was angry, jealous even, that you were more suitable to be a mother to her child than she was, that she loved you more, because that all she’s ever known. so when she came across these photos, she was livid, posting nasty comments that were all alike in hatred.

he was livid, how dare she speak like this? as if he went behind her back, as if she’s ever been there for emi the way you have. “are you fucking kidding me? you’ve never been there for her, y/n has, she’s basically y/n’s child! you selfish little..” he hesitated. how could he speak like this to someone he once loved? well, he loved her enough to make a baby with her, but she didn’t love either of them enough to stay. “little what? go on, say it.” she coaxes him over the phone, a smirk being heard through her voice. “little bitch! you don’t care about her, you act like you do to impress your sorry ass family, fuck you, and leave us alone. you’re a pathetic excuse for a mother, if you can even claim that title.” and gojo hangs up the phone, walking back inside, huffing with anger. the entire time you covered emi’s ears to overpower the profanity spewing from her father’s mouth.

“daddy? are you okay?” she asks. she’s only six, which makes everything worse. she’s been let down almost 12 times in her short life, her feelings haven’t developed all the way for her to even understand the full disappointment of having an absent mother, but you’ve been there for emi, you’ve tucked her into bed, you’ve taken her out for her birthday, you’re her mother.

gojo lays in the bed with you too, fiddling with the hairstyle you’d put in for bed. “daddy’s fine, okay?” he smiles, kissing her temple. he looks up at you, seeing the tinge of sadness in your eyes. you hurriedly look away and look down at emi, smiling. “you ready for bed?” you ask, picking her up. “yeah! wanna read a longggg story!” she giggles, kicking her feet. you put her on your hip as you walk down the hallway. “oh yeah? who’s gonna read this longggg story to you?” you tease, sitting her on her bed. “you, mommy!” you stop in your tracks, your heart beat racing, mommy?! you’ve never even hinted at emi to start calling you that! you smile and grab a book, sitting next to her.

“yes mommy will.” you smile.

i didn’t mean for this to be long oops; also sorry for spelling mistakes lololol

Hii 😋

Omg suddenly I'm feeling kinda shy like what am I doing here 🧍‍♀️

But I was thinkingg for a while and I swear I have one song in my mind like 25/8 and that's "Our First Time" By Bruno Mars and I swear it's so 😛😝😻🤩😍🙇‍♀️🐶🛐🛐

So I was wondering about maybe like how jjk characters might react to the first time with reader or sum 😌😇

And if you're not feeling this then maybee confession would be cute 🙈🙊 Idk if it would happen if either reader is tipsy or maybe sober or maybe something else, it's up to you 😛

And if you're not feeling this one either it's okay no worries 😍😇

Sorry if you are struggling with understanding something, English is not my first language 😵‍💫😵‍💫 Thank you so much for reading this you seem like a really cool person, bye 🫶🩷

firstly ur english is perfect ml don’t worry about it and no need to feel shy either!! 😙😙 secondly u got me blushingggg and thirdly oh my goddddd I forgot about that song… just flew back in time

JUST GO WITH IT JUST GO WITH IT JUST GO WITH IT AND I WILL GO REAL SLOW WITH IT SLOW WITH IT ITS OUR FIRST TIME 😫

thank you for the headcanon request 🥳🥳 i got a lil carried away cos i was having fun LMAO

characters: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, shoko ieiri, yuki tsukumo

content: loss of virginity, gn!reader for the boys, fem!reader and wlw for the girls cos they’re sapphics, oral sex, penetration, fingering, humor

18+, MDNI

satoru gojo:

• “you’re a virgin??” “yeah” “and you want your first time to be with your beautiful amazing devastatingly handsome pookadookasnooks meow meow snugglemuffin???” “yeah 😕” “SAY LESS!”

• way too excited about the whole thing because wow. he’s the first person outside of yourself to, well, touch allll up on yourself

• he can tell you’re embarrassed about the noises so his loudmouth self puts on a show as if they’re starring in a porno. exaggerated wet noises bounce around your ear canals like a ping pong ball as he kisses you everywhere with pronounced ‘mwahs’ and he moans LOUD AS FAWK as if he’s the one getting groped and fondled for the first time

• satoru’s sosososo sweet, asking what you want and how. he also keeps going “oooh hold on this’ll feel really good too, watch this” and generally just makes sure you’re feeling comfortable And having a good time; because intimacy is so much better when you can laugh and have fun with it too

• you end up sinking down onto his cock while he reclines on his back, gripping your hips but letting you steer the wheel for the most part. doesn’t stfu and endlessly praises you as you ride him, and he’s cheeeesing because he’s happy that you’re enjoying your first time

• once you cum he flips you over and takes you to pound town, cheesing even harder because your whimpers are sooo cuteeee when you’re overstimulated. but at some point satoru notices it gets to be too much and he doesn’t want his pretty baby to be in pain, nuh uhhhh

• pulls out to cum all over your tummy then drags a finger through the mess and brings his dripping finger up to your lips. “one gojo special, coming right up. and don’t worry about taste— i’ve been eating lots and lots of pineapple juuust for this ;)”

suguru geto:

• you may as well kiss all of your bodily functions goodbye the second he lays you down on the bed

• like its joever man

• suguru’s gonna make you pass out from the head rush you get as he makes you describe exactly how you feel as he’s touching you, petting over you. he doesn’t let you leave out a single detail. chuckles and teases you when your voice cracks or you look at the ceiling instead of him after spewing the raunchy shit that he wants to hear. edges tf outta you when you Don’t

• “aht aht, use your words, sweetheart. i can’t take care of you properly when you aren’t telling me what you need”

• because don’t you worry! chivalry is not in fact dead; not when there’s a gentleman between your legs. suguru’s far from a selfish lover— this is about you and the trust you’ve placed in him to take care of you, which he already does in every other aspect of your relationship. and he’s more than happy to do the same during their time in bed

• has you cumming on his mouth, then his fingers, then his cock that he sinks into you in missionary so that he can watch how your irises visibly tremble as you look up at him and the way the soft pink of your lips shapes his name

• everything you want you get, and more. he leaves you wanting for nothing. suguru pamperssss you and takes you to the moon

• but oh my fucking god are you alive?? are you even on earth anymore???? you’re twitching and shaking and gasping for what feels like hours

• “i think i saw jesus for half a second,” and he’s chuckling again, entangling your fingers after he’s cleaned you up, hand fed you some chocolate, and tipped your head back so he could dribble water into your mouth for you. he guides your fingers to his hair. “think that might’ve been me, angel. i’m the only long-haired man in the room.”

• you smack his chest

toji fushiguro:

• “oh word?” is all this man says when you announce that you’re ready on a random thursday afternoon: he doesn’t look up from his phone (he was really getting into the house restoration tiktok he was watching) until you confirm it

• you’re promptly thrown over his shoulder and he hauls you to bed

• though he’s a straight shooter and goes for what he wants whenever he wants, toji slows himself down for you because he knows ur internally shitting bricks. you don’t even gotta see his cock to know that he’s PACKING and you’re already praying to your ancestors that you survive. his sharp eyes catch the subtle bob of your throat as you swallow and the spiraling staircase spelled out in your eyes

• “jesus, doll, ‘m not gonna fuckin’ tear your ass up and wreck your shit just yet.” he’ll save getting his dick in your stomach for a rainy day. “but a man’s gotta eat.”

• the second he’s between your soft thighs, your fingers laced through his hair while his mouth drops down to where you’re leaking, toji shows you exactly why he’s the best at what he does. and no he does NAWT mean killing sorcerers

• though this is gn!reader, he’d definitely eat fem!reader from the back

• he’s as gentle as a man like him can be as he goes down on you ‘til you cum, then he whips his cock out to take care of himself when you offer to help him out. and who is he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

• toji guides you, shows you exaaactly how to stroke him right, squeezing on the upstroke, screwing your free palm against the tip. you daringly take half of him into your mouth and he pulls you off to cum on your face cos well. he’s toji

• “we’re doin’ this again the second i get myself back up”

• oh fawk

choso kamo:

• “guess that makes two of us” is what he casually says when you tell him that you’re a virgin

• contrary to popular belief, no, he’s not clueless when it comes to sex. he’s got what he’s seen on TV, what he’s personally looked up, and the memories of his host’s body all on his side

• so in theory both of you know how sex works, what goes where and whatnot . in practice? all of that knowledge seems to fly out the fucking window to join the birds

• choso lit some vanilla-scented candles to set the mood, because this moment is super special for both of them, right? everything needs to be perfect. romantic

• you’re gripping the shit out of a bottle of cherry flavored lube, which you bought because gojo and yuki swore to them both that it’d make things more fun, as if someone’s gonna take that shit from you as you clamber onto his lap. and then they both stare at each other. “lovely, how should we…” “let’s just make out and go from there??”

• you both get into a rhythm, hands skirting beneath clothes as you swap spit

• kissing while you straddle him turns into him lying back, their palms glued together with sweat as their hands entangle on either side of his head. which turns into grinding and whiny moans

• both of you nut in your pants like teenagers

• round two starts with breathy laughter and awed gazes as soiled clothes get tossed to the side so that you can explore each other’s bodies and properly pin down the other’s preferences this time. and the lube finally gets put to use

• choso’s more preoccupied with your needs than his; a puppy born and bred to please, and reaaaally fawking eagerly. pawing at your erogenous zones that he discovers after some trial and error, and you do the same to him. it’s all sooooo sweet, so gentle, even though both of you are fumbling and giggling

• “is this okay? faster, slower? whatever you want.”

• he doesn’t last long once he sinks inside of you, but choso manages to make you cum again before he busts a second time too, so hey, win win

shoko ieiri:

• honestly she’s not really surprised that you’re a virgin. she knows damn well you’re not the type to wander off to some bar and pick some rando up for your first time. and there’s not a large roster of sorcerer women to pick from, either

• luckily she’s your girlfriend. and she has enough experience to know what the hell to do

• which is why she busts out the double-ended dildo and tosses it to the side of the bed. you stare at it with big ass eyes and she just chuckles as she guides you to sit between her legs, your back squishing her boobs

• not only is she gonna show you how good it feels to be touched by someone other than yourself, she’s gonna show you exactly how she touches you

• holds your legs open with her own legs, spreading you niiice and wide so that you can see yourself in the mirror while shoko fingers you and narrates every. single. thing. that she’s doing. mostly to watch how flustered you get

• makes you cum on her fingers multiple times until you’re drooling because you deserve nothing but the best. she’s very happily getting off on your pleasure

• then shoko smiles to herself as you, lashes shading your spacey gaze and muscles still erratically twitching beneath your skin, turn around and eat her out to return the favor. that’s when your body really registers that she absolutely destroyed your kitty and wore down your mind and body. you practically fall asleep with your mouth on her while her hand scratches at your scalp as if you’re a kitten

• “tired already, cutie? guess we’ll save the double-ended dildo for next time.”

• YOU’RE UP

yuki tsukumo:

• they’re making out on a flannel-patterned blanket that they laid out on the grass when yuki goes to worm her long fingers down your pants when you tell her that its your first time

• “you’re telling me that people weren’t lining up around the block to get a piece of this ass and a taste of it too before we started dating?? ohhh bunny… that’s criminal.”

• “good thing yuki thee stallion’s happy to take her cute girl for a ride!”

• because if anything she’s JUICEDDDD that she’s your first. mentally she’s kicking her feet, carving your initials into a tree, rolling down the slight incline of the hill where they’ve been pointing out constellations and shooting the shit on. little do you know that they’re gonna have a spring wedding and todo’s gonna be her best man

• hauls you up her body so that you can sit on her face out in the open. sure they could just scoot back to their hotel room on her harley but mmmm… semi-public sex with no one else around… its her shit

• she’s already plotting ways to tease you when they’re Really in public

• you’re thinking, ‘wow, how can this possibly get better’ while jerkily riding her tongue when she brings her fingers into the mix and you squirt, just like that. yuki must be floating in the heavens up above them because WOW HOLY SHIT this is the best day of her life. what a treat

• she pulls you back down, all smiles and sunshine as she coos praise. but are y’all done? helllll naw. yuki flips you over, shuffles out of her jeans, and introduces you to the art of scissoring while she mauls your tits like a dog with a new chew toy

Pillow forts are difficult to build. Especially if you have a child “helping” you build them. Though it’s not Yuji’s fault that he’s no help, he just moves on too fast without letting the pillows balance.

“Yuji, how about you help me by giving me pillows instead of placing them? I think we’ll work much faster that way.” You try to give him a new task.

“Okay! I’ll be on pillow duty and you be on building duty!” The child replies with excitement.

You both work together and before you know it, Choso’s living room is a huge fort, topped off with Yuji’s Spider-Man blanket to cover the fort. You smile and mess up the boy’s hair.

“Not bad, huh?”

“It looks awesome!”

He smiles and crawls into the fort, lying down and looking around. You follow and lay beside him, allowing him to cuddle up to you. Your fingers card through his hair while he talks about how Megumi would love to do this with you and him next time.

“I wonder what Choso will say when he comes home. Do you think he’ll join us down here?” Yuji looks up at you.

“Hmm, maybe. It’s a nice nap spot, doncha think?”

“Yeah…” he trails off, as if the mere mention of napping made the boy sleepy.

You chuckle and hold him closer. “You can sleep if you want, Yu.”

“Mkay…”

He nuzzles into you and closes his eyes, falling asleep soon after. Yuji’s soft breathing becomes the only sound, aside from your own, and you also feel yourself becoming drowsy after a few silent minutes. Your eyes eventually droop shut and you’re asleep the same as Yuji.

Choso enters his apartment and instantly notices the pillow fort taking space in front of his couch. He smiles and sets his keys on the coat rack, shaking his coat off and hanging it beside the keys. The ravenette pokes his head into the fort and lets out an amused huff when he sees you and Yuji, cuddling and asleep.

Choso takes the opportunity to shower and change into something comfortable, taking his hair down from the buns he does. He walks into the kitchen, grabbing himself a small snack before joining you two in the fort. He crawls in, careful not to bump any pillows, and slowly cuddles up next to you.

You wake up with a jolt that surprisingly doesn’t wake Yuji. Your head turns and you smile when you see Choso behind you, his hands sliding around your waist. He pulls you and Yuji to his chest.

“I see you two had fun today.” He whispers softly in your ear.

You hum in agreement. “He had a wonderful idea.”

“I can tell.”

“How was work?”

“Not bad, same old story, different day. How was your day with Yuji?”

“We cleaned his room, went snack shopping, and then built this fort. I’ll have to remake his bed while he eats dinner, deconstruct this fort…”

“Mhm, I can cook while you do that, if you wanna wake Yuji.”

You give Choso a mischievous grin that tells him you have a “great idea” on how to wake Yuji. You bring your hands to Yuji’s tummy and quickly start tickling him, grinning when he wakes up and instantly gets thrown into a fit of giggles and kicking you away.

“Stop thattt!” He giggles.

“Whyyyyy…” you giggle as well. “I’m having funnnn!!”

“It tickles!”

“That’s the point!”

Choso chuckles at the two of you and crawls out of the fort, moving to the kitchen to start cooking dinner. You finally give Yuji reprieve from the tickling and carry him out of the fort, the pink-haired boy holding onto you like a baby koala. The two of you work together to return the pillows to the correct spots and remake Yuji’s bed. You three have dinner and Yuji gets tucked into bed after a movie, while you and Choso go to his room for the night. He could get used to days like this.

Masterlist

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Hi just discovered your blog and I love it❤️ can I request a mark Grayson with a s/o who's the batman of their universe like she's a rich girl and a playboy(girl?) like in the public but at night she's the dark knight and it's a regular human with the skills of batman. I just find it funny if he's like "omg the batman/dark knight is it true your vampire or what kind of powers and reader is like 🦇 "no I'm human" and he's like 🤨 since he saw her knee kick the air out of a guy for jaywalking and break the ribs of 5 guys for littering without a sweat also how they would work as a duo maybe she gains a robin?

Thank you! I love this idea so much!! ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡ I had so much fun writing it I hope this lives up to your expectations — hope you enjoy!! 🦇💕

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

Rich girl by day, Dark knight by night. Mark was aware that you were wealthy and kind of a big deal in the social scene. Designer outfits? Attending exclusive parties ? Fancy galas? Driving expensive sports cars? Yeah everything about you screams rich.

Mark had some suspicion on you, but when he found out he was SHOOK! You?? The masked vigilante everyone in the city feared? “Wait.. you're the one who put those 3 guys in the hospital last week?” You’d shrugged it off “They had it coming”

“What kind of powers do you have?” He would deadass think you had some kind of supernatural ability. Maybe vampirism? Super strength??? Nope! Just peak human conditioning and a lot of training. “So you're human?” “Yep” “…And you're doing all of this?” “Mhm” “Jesus Christ”

When he first watched you in action his jaw was on the floor, taking 6 guys in under a minute – one well placed knee kick, backflip, and some nice creative use of grappling hook. Mark just floated above you like =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) “You… you just–” “Yeah” “And you're–” “Human”

He finds it funny with how different you are when you're in your dark knight mode versus your public person. Seeing you at a charity gala and that same night you’re taking down a drug ring in the city’s back alleys.

He pictures you in a fancy dress but when you suit up as the dark knight he's like “Hold up, that's the same person?!”

You’re always on the arm of a new date, you use it as a way to cover your work, making it easier to explain why you're out all hours of the night. Mark lowkey gets jealous, even though he knows it all means nothing. “So.. dinner with that tech billionaire last night?” “He was boring” “Sure, sure. Guess i'll just have to keep an eye on you” (๑>؂•̀๑)

He 100% talks about you to the Guardians of the Globe all the time. “Yeah my girlfriend? Took down 8 guys by herself last night. No big deal” Rex: "isn’t she human?" “Yeah that's the crazy part!”

You’re always teasing him, running a finger down his chest, leaning in close wherever you talk to him. Mark pretends he's unaffected but his jaw clenching when you call him handsome says otherwise. He tries to flirt back but c'mon you're too good at the game.

Training together, Mark would BEG you to train him in hand to hand combat. He would get frustrated with you wiping the floor with him despite his super strength. “How are you so fast??”

The media loves them. Headlines like “Dark knight And Her Flying Sidekick Strike Again!” “Who is the Dark Knight’s New Partner?” Mark hates being called the sidekick but you just laugh it off and say “Well you are following my lead” “I’m not your sidekick” “Sure you aren't Grayson”

You and Mark have different fighting styles but somehow it works. He's more of brute strength and super speed, punching enemies. While you're all about precision, calculated strikes and exploiting weak points. You're the planner and he's the muscle, mapping out the enemy’s territory. He follows your lead even if he pretends he doesn't but he listens when you give orders.

Once the night’s work is done you both linger in the dark or on top of rooftops. Mark leans against the wall staring at the stars with you by his side. “Same time tomorrow?" “Only if you try to to get yourself killed” But you'll both be there

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? more like everyone runs the second they see sukuna—because what would you do if a 6’4” pink-haired, red-eyed menace started powerwalking toward you like a GTA NPC with maxed-out aggression settings? you tried to flirt? bold of you to assume you’ll live to tell the tale. that’s not even a fight, that’s a one-sided curb stomp at 1000 km/h.

dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? more like gojo picked the outfit, hyped you up in the mirror, and dramatically twirled you around like he was styling a runway model. people whispering, “your boyfriend must be so proud of you dressing like this” have no idea. he’s not just proud. he’s smug. he’s grinning like the cheshire cat. he’s reminding everyone that this outfit? it was purchased with his black card. he might as well get a tattoo on his forehead that says “i love my partner.”

dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? more like nanami doesn’t even take you to places where people might get ideas. he’s preemptively removing himself from all potential nonsense. but in the rare event that some old-money finance bro decides he’s all that, nanami doesn’t waste words. no yelling, no drama—just a discreet nod to the staff, and suddenly, mr. stocks-and-bonds is being escorted out so efficiently you’d think nanami owns the whole damn place. (he does not. but he does know the owner. personally. and that’s enough.)

dress slutty, your boyfriend can fight? yeah. toji is currently fighting them. no hesitation. someone made eye contact for 0.2 seconds with you across the bar? boom, it’s a street fight. you barely brushed against someone in the crowd? suddenly, they’ve got a black eye. no one even knows what started it—just that toji is laughing, you’re holding his drink, and there’s a very real possibility someone’s going home in an ambulance. your boyfriend can fight? yeah. but at this point, he should probably be arrested.

“Wahhh!” 

“Nooooo!” 

“Bwahhhhhh!” 

“I don’t care, she was mine first!!!” 

“WAHHH!” 

“AHHHHHHH-” 

“Satoru Gojo,” you snap and glare at your husband, who’s burying his face in the pillow to muffle his laughter. Your seven month-old son also begins laughing. It’s so cute that you almost forget that the two were screaming at each other just seconds ago. 

Satoru lifts his head up to grin handsomely at you, feigning innocence. “Yes, wifey?” 

“Why on earth are you screaming with your son at eight o’clock in the morning?” You ask. 

“Because,” he whines, pointing an accusing finger at your baby boy, who had begun cooing adorably for your attention. “He won’t let me kiss you! Watch what happens.” To demonstrate, Satoru gently leans in, only to be stopped when the baby uses his tiny hands to push against his face with a loud whine. You stifle a laugh when he pouts, squinting his eyes at your son. “Listen, just because you’re laying here, doesn’t mean that you can just keep me from giving my wife a little smooch.” 

Your son doesn’t budge. “Bwah!” 

“Okay, and?!” Satoru exclaims with a tilt of his head.

You roll your eyes. “I cannot believe you’re actually arguing with him.” 

“Kid’s got a mouth on him.” 

“How do you even know what he said– You know what? Don’t answer that. Anyway, he’s your kid. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t sassy.” 

Satoru gasps dramatically. “I am not sassy.” Next to him, your son matches his pout with a hmph, and since he was born with Satoru’s hair and eye color, he basically looked like a tiny version of him. “See?” He asks, gesturing to his mini. “Even he agrees with me!” 

“Sure he does,” you say, then turn your attention back to your phone, scrolling through a grocery delivery app so you can start ordering things for the week 

“And back to you,” you hear Satoru continue with your son, “I just want to kiss her cheek, and you’re just– hey, no sticking out your tongue at me.” The baby babbles, and Satoru scoffs. “No, I’m not cryin’. What’re you talking about?” 

You laugh quietly. If this was how it was now, you couldn’t wait to see what it’s going to be like in the future.

Ovulation Station .ᐟ

𝜗𝜚: satoru, suguru, nanami, choso, hiromi, toji, sukuna

note: trying for a baby when you’re in your most fertile window, so you have to let them know asap! lowk went feral on toji’s…

warnings: cursing, sexual, ovulation, pregnancy, f!reader

I BLOCK MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS

I think about this happening with Wukong's kid a lot

uncle gogo = gojo, for those confused

career day at the sukuna household is not for the weak.

at the tender age of five, your daughter is no longer just a visitor at her father’s company. no. today, she is there for work. she arrives at the office in her best outfit—tiny blazer, tiny briefcase, tiny attitude—ready to take on the corporate world. sukuna, ever the supportive father, plays along.

"alright, kid," he says as they step into his office, adjusting the little lanyard around her neck that says junior executive (custom-made, obviously). "first day on the job. you ready?"

"mm-hmm." she nods seriously, clutching her briefcase like it holds state secrets. "good," sukuna smirks, ruffling her hair. "first order of business—don’t let the idiots boss you around."

"idiots like uncle gogo?" she asks.

"especially uncle gogo."

things go smoothly at first. your daughter sits in sukuna’s big chair, scribbling on documents (coloring books), occasionally nodding as if she understands corporate jargon. employees pop in to say hello, bringing little gifts—stickers, snacks, an absurdly large teddy bear that now sits beside her like an honorary executive.

but then, he arrives. a mid-level manager with a smile just a little too fake, eyes that linger just a little too long. your daughter, ever perceptive, immediately stiffens. the man kneels beside her chair, trying to look friendly. "and who is this little boss?" he asks, voice dripping with condescension. your daughter stares him down, face blank.

"…weird man," she declares.

the entire office goes silent. sukuna, who had been checking emails, slowly looks up.

"what?"

his daughter turns to him, completely unbothered.

"i don’t like weird man."

the manager laughs awkwardly. "kids, huh? always saying the darndest things." sukuna barely spares him a glance. "yeah. they do."

your daughter, meanwhile, has already moved on, humming as she arranges her teddy bear like it’s the new CFO. sukuna doesn’t think much of it at first. kids have weird instincts. but a few hours later—

"boss," one of his executives says, looking grim. "we have a problem." sukuna doesn’t look up from his laptop. "when don’t we?"

"it’s about him."

the name that follows is the same weird man his daughter had called out earlier. sukuna finally looks up.

"what about him?"

"he’s been embezzling funds. we just caught the discrepancies in the accounts—tens of thousands missing. and, uh..." the executive hesitates. "he’s also been at the center of multiple employee harassment complaints. HR covered it up, but—"

CRACK.

everyone in the office flinches. sukuna has broken his pen in half.

by the end of the day, weird man is ex-employee weird man. security drags him out kicking and screaming, and the company lawyers are already preparing a case. sukuna, meanwhile, sits back in his chair, arms crossed as he watches his daughter—his psychic daughter—methodically stacking staplers like it’s part of an intricate business strategy.

"so," he says, tapping his fingers against the desk. "you got anything else for me, little oracle?"

she looks up at him, blinking.

"uncle gogo steals candy from your office."

sukuna sighs. "of course he does."