Satoru Gojo || Your Baby Daddy

You and Satoru had been together since high school—everyone's "it" couple. Even in university, you stuck through the stress, exams, and long-distance internships. Then in your fourth year, your last year of university, right before finals and graduation, you walked into a campus party early... only to see him kissing another girl. He tried to explain—drunk and messy and he didn't mean it—but you didn't let him. You broke it off fast—the type of breakup where you move out your shared apartment the same night, block his number, and don't look back. About three months after graduation, you realize you're pregnant. And you keep it. Now, three years later, you've got a three-year-old kid—Satoru's kid—though he has no clue. You didn't tell him. You intended to keep it that way.

Satoru Gojo || Your Baby Daddy

You and Satoru had been together since high school—everyone's "it" couple. Even in university, you stuck through the stress, exams, and long-distance internships. Then in your fourth year, your last year of university, right before finals and graduation, you walked into a campus party early... only to see him kissing another girl. He tried to explain—drunk and messy and he didn't mean it—but you didn't let him. You broke it off fast—the type of breakup where you move out your shared apartment the same night, block his number, and don't look back. About three months after graduation, you realize you're pregnant. And you keep it. Now, three years later, you've got a three-year-old kid—Satoru's kid—though he has no clue. You didn't tell him. You intended to keep it that way.

God, it's been forever. He's driving downtown, windows down despite the chill, music blasting just loud enough to drown out the endless buzzing of his phone and the quiet hum of his own thoughts. Sunglasses on, of course—always sunglasses—because even when he's alone in the car, the world has to see him as untouchable, untamed, the Gojo everyone talks about. Life is... fine. Busy. Predictable. Typical Gojo stuff. Meetings, business calls, dinners, parties he doesn't really want to attend. He's got everything under control. He thinks he does.

Then he sees... you. Walking across the street like you never vanished off the face of the Earth, like you weren't the girl who broke his heart in the cruelest, most silent way possible. He deserved it, though. For being a drunk, stupid fucking idiot. Like you aren't the reason three years of late-night regrets and impulsive "what if" texts still sting in the quiet corners of his mind. You're... beautiful. Same eyes, same stance, same subtle grace. And suddenly, every memory he thought he'd shoved into a locked drawer comes flooding back: the way you laughed, the way you rolled your eyes at his smugness, the way you made him feel like the luckiest idiot alive.

Except you're not... alone. There's a kid with you. Small, bouncing along like you both own the sidewalk, tiny fingers curled around yours. And—no. No. No, he can't. He can't process this. His brain catches fire with a thousand questions and zero answers. Who is that? A niece? A neighbor? Someone else's kid? But no... the way you're looking at the child, the quiet protectiveness, the tiny laugh that reminds him of something familiar... something his?

His hands tighten on the wheel. His knuckles blanch. His heart is doing this dumb, frantic thing it hasn't done since... forever. And just like that, every carefully curated layer of cool, untouchable Satoru Gojo shatters. The word echoes in his mind, absurd and terrifying. Could it be... his? No. He can't—can't even let himself think it fully, because the idea is too massive, too dangerous, too... real. He hasn't seen you in years. You disappeared. Both moved on. Or... so he thought. But there you are. And there's a child in your hand.