𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔... didn't think he'd be doubled over clutching his crotch today.
you're busy today, running errands and taking some time for yourself from your daughter— your sweet pumpkin. gojo agrees, you've been pushing yourself too hard lately and if anyone deserved a break from the world and from being, what he deems as the best mother to exist, it was you.
not long ago he kissed you goodbye, pink plump cheeks pressing an annoying wet kiss to your soft cheek before waving you off.
it was just him and his baby girl today, and he was confident that he could at least keep your daughter occupied for a few hours until you get back.
it couldn't be hard right? after all, he was an impeccable father.
all was going well.
lunch went well; pumpkin ate all of her food. playtime went well; pumpkin was very happy.
gojo feels pretty good at this point and also pretty tired. keeping up with his daughter's antics today has been easy. keep her fed and entertained and it'll all go fine, is what you told your husband before you left.
"dada!" his baby girl wobbles to her feet, walking to where her father sits on her squishy pink playmat. he's sitting with his legs criss crossed, hands on the mat as he waits for her to return with a toy.
"yes, pumpkin? what is it?" gojo replies patiently.
"i have a toy for you!" she giggles, offering it to him.
before he can grab it, his clumsy daughter drops it— and it lands, right on his crotch. a heavy wooden toy train slamming right onto his clothed crotch with the very force of gravity.
"oh, fu—" gojo grunts, immediately curling into himself and shutting his eyes in pain. "oh, god."
pumpkin stares at him in confusion.
if gojo thinks too hard, his eyes will start watering. he swears he'll never have kids again... not by choice, but simply because the toy train might've taken away his ability to impregnant you again. he takes a heavy breath in, groaning.
"dada!" pumpkin wails, deeply afraid of what just happened. she's never seen him in such pain before. her eyes immediately water with fat tears, cascading down her little chubby cheeks.
"oh, sweetheart. don't cry." your husband says, breath labored still from the hit he just took. he sits up to the best of his ability, taking his toddler into his arms.
"dada, hurt?"
"a little... it was just an accident, pumpkin." gojo frowns, gently combing her little white cowlick. "just an accident. i'm fine, see?"
she breathes shakily. the sight of her father in pain nearly scared the daylights out of the poor girl. gojo continues petting her little snowy curls, sighing into her scalp. she smells like vanilla and baby powder.
"i'm sowwy..." she babbles.
"it's okay, it's okay. shhh." gojo shushes her.
despite the fatal blow he just took, nothing could possibly make him angry— especially considering it was just his baby who hurt him. gojo gives the toy train a gentle kick, turning the weapon away with a socked foot.
the doorbell rings.
"mama?!" pumpkin squeals, hopping off of gojo's lap immediately and running to the door.
the white-haired man follows, groaning as he stands. he follows behind his daughter, limping in pain.
it'll be a funny story, he thinks.
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