Work Text:
"We’re having a baby,” Utahime said over breakfast, and Gojo spewed out his coffee—five tablespoons of sugar included—all over the dining table.
She was very calm about it. Gojo, however, was shocked at the news. It was an accident because they hadn’t been trying to have kids, but to his surprise, Utahime didn’t look the least bit unnerved about her condition.
“When?” he asked. “How? We haven’t—how?”
Well great, he'd gone and reassembled a chicken. The prospect of having a mini Gojo and Utahime made him sweat.
Utahime gave him a look across the table. “When,” she began, “in about eight months. How? Because we had sex—sexual intercourse, Gojo. What do you think makes babies?”
Gojo just stared at her dumbly because, well, she had a point.
As the months progressed, Utahime became more irritable and very into sweets, which Gojo was happy to spoil her rotten. He finally got her to try out a frappe from Starbucks. The children gave her all sorts of snacks, which Nobara firmly told him were for Utahime-sensei and for Utahime-sensei only. It even went to a certain point where Gojo had to remind his wife to brush her teeth or else all of her teeth would fall off.
A little jab at her insistent bullying about his teeth back when she wasn't pregnant.
"Brush your teeth, Gojo, or else you'll look like a grandpa." Gojo at that time was currently thirty-one.
Utahime would burst out crying at random moments like when the blue of the walls didn’t quite match the blue of the baby blankets. She snapped at him a lot, and Gojo had to remind himself she was pregnant. Don’t get angry at her, he told himself. She would kill him—and she can, he was sure of it.
“You’re coming with me to my Antenatal class,” Utahime told him one day.
Gojo snorted at her. “I’m not going to some women’s thing.” He'd really rather not. He could get Megumi to attend but that would be weird.
Utahime glared at him so hard he thought her eyes would ignite into flames. “You’re coming with me to my Lamaze class,” she enunciated slowly. “I will not be the only woman there without her husband.”
Gojo slowly leaned towards her. “Over my dead body."
Three days later, Gojo was found dead.
Kidding, Gojo Satoru—self-proclaimed strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer, ended up attending the Lamaze classes with Utahime. Who, Gojo has to remind himself, is his ultra-mega super sexy wifey. All the waifu-loving losers can weep.
They went through much harder things than some breathing exercise sessions. Like him being stuck inside a box, and her having to bust him out. They can definitely handle a baby.
That being said, Gojo vows to never say anything like that to her ever again.
When the baby was on the way, Gojo received the call while he was in the middle of beating a curse into a pulp. He had to drop everything and rush to the hospital. Gojo arrived hours before the birth, and if he ever thought he had seen anything worse than giving birth in his entire life, then he took it back. Giving birth was definitely the worst.
As the baby was born, though, it was all worth it. Eight months ago, he hadn’t wanted a child, but they put the little boy in his arms before they put him in Utahime's arms. Gojo stared down at him, and the little guy didn’t even cry at the sight of him.
Even their little brat recognized handsome. Gojo could help but hold their child closer when the baby yawned and opened his eyes.
He had Utahime's. God, maybe the box was much easier. Gojo and Utahime's DNA in one child will prove to be difficult...and interesting.
“Can I hold him?” Utahime asked quietly from the bed, sounding exhausted after everything she had been through within the last eight hours.
Gojo was silent at first.
“Give me just a moment,” he said below his breath.
Utahime didn’t argue with him.
Bonus:
Utahime couldn't help but say a prayer of thanks to all deities in Japan. Their child didn't inherit Gojo's destructive personality at all. In fact, their little brat, as Gojo would lovingly call their son, was Utahime from the top of his silver locks, down to the tips of his little toes.
"Baby number two, please be more like me. Your mama and your brother are all ganging up on your poor papa." Gojo pressed his face against her growing bump and made sure to rub her belly in soothing circles.
"Don't listen to your father." Utahime counted back, albeit playfully, as she waded her hand through Gojo's hair.
Gojo placed a tender kiss on her belly, in reply.
"I can't wait to meet you."