𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐔𝐋. Now almost nine months pregnant, Y/n was quickly becoming more and more vulnerable. Because of this, Gojo had opted to be by her side at all times. If she left the house, he was beside her. In the stores, he would follow her around. If she went to the school, he had his hand on her at all times. If they were sitting at home, on the couch or something, he would sit behind her, his arm around her with his hands on her stomach. When they slept, he would rest his hands over their child.
Most of the night though, Y/n would swat his hands away and whine about him being all over her and roll over away from him. She loved him, and she was happy he was being so careful about her, but, he was getting overwhelming. And she wasn’t afraid to tell him either.
“I’m sorry baby,” He sighed, resting the hammer on the floor as he looked up at her. Pieces of the white crib were scattered around him. “I’m just worried, okay? I...don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Satoru, I promise, I’ll be fine,” She said, finishing placing some of the stuffed animals gifted to them along the dressers.
“We still haven’t found your father,” He said, looking back to the booklet of instructions before putting two pieces together.
“He’s not going to pop out of nowhere,” She chuckled, making him look over at her as she placed a pink bunny on the dresser. “You can relax. I’ll be okay, and so will Sora.”
Sora. The name of their daughter. Gojo had been the one to pick it out. She was doing something in the nursery when he burst through the front door. He ran up to her, grabbed her shoulders, lips pulled in a bright smile as he told her. It meant ‘sky’. Y/n thought it was fitting, and she smiled softly, agreeing to the name.
She sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, propping her chin on her palm as she watched Gojo. He stood up, checking the stability of the crib by jarring it. His face dropped as it broke into pieces at his feet, his hand still hovering in the air. Y/n covered her mouth, trying to hold in the laughter that threatened to escape.
“If this baby doesn’t like me, you’re having more until one of them does,” He grumbled, making her burst into laughter. He crawled over to her, pressing his palms to the side of her stomach. “Sora, daddy loves you more than mommy.”
