And Yes Again - Blog Posts

more of ex husband gojo i beg

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 | 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

cw/ tw. modern au. their daughter is an oc, mild angst, pet names (ex. baby), more of Gojo fawning over his ex wife | wc. 600+

an. okay, this is just a blurb my sleepy brain conjured up <3

Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the moms at Mio’s soccer games talk whenever he decides to pull you into his lap—a few sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your daughter run across the field.

He doesn’t hear the things they talk about, like “aren’t they divorced?” and “I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that.” Although maybe he’s heard every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do. 

“Satoru,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”

“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game.”

“But everyone’s staring at us.”

“So? Let them stare.”

Just then, the crowd in the stands starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her smaller frame ducking between the taller kids. 

“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents. 

And then Mio kicks the ball into—well.

The wrong goal.

“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter jumps happily in the middle of the field.

You’re probably scrubbing the plate in your hands rougher than necessary, doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn. But it’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those gray cotton shorts sit dangerously low on his hips— 

Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless.

It's almost like it's a ploy to torture you...and it's working.

He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips when he catches you staring, and suddenly the suds in the sink seem ten times more interesting.

Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re folding laundry. And he’s still shirtless, you realize, as he presses his front against your back.

Your resolve slips at how familiar it feels (to be held like this), and you swallow the whimper working its way up your throat. “Satoru…”

“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband around your waist.

Breathless, you ask, “where’s Mio?”

“Watching Paw Patrol.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”

Your words trail off into a lilted moan when he slaps your clit with his leaky tip.

“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open on his cock. “Tell me more about why we can’t keep doing this.” 

And you can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he wraps his long fingers around your throat because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed, every sound choking into nothing.

You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.

“That’s it,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Take it.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who pushes the sticky rivulets of cum back inside you after he pulls out, muttering something that sounds like, “can’t waste it.” 

Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night. 

That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet—

“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Gojo as Mario Kart appears on the screen.

“We’ll see,” he laughs, ruffling her hair until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.

You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile, content.