Call his hole Little Caesar’s the way it’s always hot and ready
✢summary: what happens when your husband brings home a son that is not yours?
✢tags: arranged marriage gojo satoru x reader, reader is a clan kid, she’s v traditional, obvious cat and jon snow references
✢tw: implications of cheating, mentioned abuse, misogyny ig, fanfic gojo, ooc gojo
✢ a/n: here's part 2! i'd like to emphasize that depsite this being a gojo x reader fic, the main realationships i'll be focusing on are y/n and the kids gojo brings home lmao. also im raw dogging the lore as we go so if there are any inconsistencies, please lmk. as always, have fun and lmk what you think!
i don’t do taglists.
part one ✢ masterlist
If it were up to you, you would have shut the gates of the Gojo estate as soon as the child entered the grounds, but your husband had given him the the maids so quickly that you’re sure they have spread the word around already. You could hear the rumors in your head. Gojo Satoru has brought home a child out of wedlock. Gojo Y/N is barren. Gojo Satoru has a mistress.
You expected Gojo to be frantic, stumbling over his words in explanation as to why he has a son- it was his son, there was no doubt about that- reassuring you about his vows remain unbroken, or whatever else but silence. You are silent too as you watch the child get scurried away by the estate staff to scrub the dirt off his face and to get a change of clothes.
Even as he is being escorted away from you, his cursed energy did not fade. You feel it like how everyone feels Gojo’s, but more raw and untamed. Whoever this child is, it is Gojo Satoru reborn again.
Silence. Silence is what took the Gojo estate into a chokehold as the maids finish bathing the child and then put him in a spare bedroom a good distance away from yours. The maids must think you resent him.
Satoru pretends like everything is the same as if the boy had been there since the beginning. During the first night, you watch with a blank face as the cake you've baked for him is eaten by the child. Neither the boy nor Satoru expresses their gratitude towards you. You doubt they even know you baked it.
To his credit, Satoru had treated the child better than you had expected. He is blossoming into fatherhood, you realize and you feel the rage and anger burn in your stomach.
He pats the boy's head and messes his hair, before pointing to his own messy mane exclaiming, "See? We match!"
Satoru had tried to include you in conversations with the boy, even daring to seat him on his right at meals. Satoru would blab after seeing the child gobble mochi. "Mochi is Y/N's favorite too!" He turns to look at you with a bright smile. "Right, Y/N?"
You want to point out that the boy had gobbled everything served to him, but you just give a brief nod.
At night, you sleep like a log- rigid, straight, and quiet. Satoru, on the other hand, remains comfortable, snoozing the day's exhaustion behind him.
Tonight will be the same as it has been for the past few weeks. You stare at yourself in the mirror of your vanity, wondering if your reflection is the perfect example of a foolish woman. How stupid of you to think he was different.
There was nothing but quiet as you prepare yourself to sleep, brushing your hair quietly. You hear the door creak but you do not turn and greet him with a smile like you used to.
“I expected you to be more emotional about this,” came Satoru's words beside you. Me too, you want to reply but held your mouth shut.
You had expected yourself to scream, and let your anger flow through your voice. You wanted to cry until your tears were dry and there wasn't any left. Neither you nor Satoru would be surprised if you use your technique against him in a fit of fury, and if you truly knew your husband, you know he'd take your anger like it was penance. You want to be the fire that burns him badly. But you did none of those.
You are as cold as their blue eyes. You are quiet.
You continue to brush your hair.
"Do you want me to get rid of him?" offers Satoru. "Just say the word, and I will."
You blink in surprise. You meet his eyes in the mirror. Satoru looks nonchalant in his posture with his hands in his pockets. But the fact that his glasses were nowhere to be seen tells you he is not joking.
Your ears recall the promise he made months ago. My wife, my equal. A promise to try, to try to be happy to spite everyone who was determined to make your lives miserable.
The sudden exhaustion hit you, your shoulders slumping from your previous postures. You lean back, letting your nape rest on the back of the chair. You stare at the ceiling, your head forbidding you to forget how the child looked like. White hair. Blue eyes. You hear Satoru sigh somewhere near you. You hear his footsteps come. From your peripheral, you see his figure beside you. A feather-like hesitant hand touches your shoulder. “I was not unfaithful to you.”
Satoru moves to kneel in front of your sitting figure. He reaches out to your head, and touches his forehead against yours. You find yourself looking up at his eyes, the same shade of eyes that he shares with the child. His hands cradle your face, desperate for you to believe him. “Please. Please, Y/N.”
You remain silent.
“You’re the only one I have left, Y/N, please.” He begs. There are tears threatening to spill down to his pretty face, and you find some sick satisfaction in them.
That is not true. Your husband has his clan, his estate servants, his high school friends, and his teachers. It is you that has no one but him. By your culture’s traditions, you do not belong to your clan anymore. You know that some elders have begun to doubt their choice in choosing you as the wife of Gojo Satoru with the obvious lack of children, but with the sudden appearance of Gojo-sama’s bastard child, they might annul your marriage by force- or, god forbid, cast you aside for another, more fertile woman.
You do not wish to share your thoughts, but your husband grips your head so desperately. You have made a god beg.
“I know.” You say. The child may be young, but he was old enough to walk and talk small phrases on his own. He must be at least two years old. The child is older than your marriage.
His shoulders immediately drop in relief before quickly detangling himself from you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He slides his head to hide in your neck and like instinct, you welcome him wrapping your hands around his waist.
"Where would you leave him?" You manage to ask, still not believing his offer.
"The cabin," he says. You can see the cracks on your husband now. You spot his hand making a fist inside his pockets, like it pains him to speak. “The one by Nagasaki, remember? I’ll send a maid and give him money every month. We can send him right now. The maids will not say anything outside the estate, not if I threaten to chop their tongues off. We can send him off with a caretaker to a cabin somewhere and leave him there. I- I can visit him a few times a year- just to make sure he’s fine.”
You blink. You did not expect Satoru to offer that. You let the fantasy linger in your head. You imagine the boy’s life so far- abandoned by his mother and unknown by his father. Children do not understand things the way older people do, so it is up to the adults to help and explain certain things. But he has not had an adult in his life before. Would you be happy if you were left alone in the cabin in the middle of the woods with no one but a caretaker for company? Better yet- will the caretaker even stay to care for him without anyone around?
That sounds incredibly lonely, you realize. The premise sounds all too familiar to you- an empty house with no one but servants. But this boy will only get one.
He needs people to protect him, but you are unsure if you’d like to. Your instincts tell you to agree, get rid of the boy before he becomes more of a threat.
“Satoru,” you say slowly, thinking of your next words carefully. “He is just child. He is no danger to me.”
You hold your breath, suprised to hear the words out of your mouth. From your lap, Satoru holds your gaze- piercing eyes trying to read your mind. If he caught your lie he does not show it.
"Are you sure?"
No. "Yes."
-
Hiroki. Satoru had names him Gojo Hiroki.
He spends most of his days inside the estate surrounded by maids or inside his room playing with the toys you off-handedly ordered the day after he arrived. The maids gush about him already, the older ones excitedly murmuring how the little lord acts so much like your husband as a child. You would be a fool not to agree.
Hiroki runs barefoot through the estate, tracking mud on precious tatami floors before a servant finally catches him. He likes people, likes the maids and the servants, and thus has migrated to the kitchen a few weeks after his arrival like he was addicted to places were people are the most. He draws. He draws so much it’s almost ridiculous. You could have a library full of childish scribbles.
Like your husband, he devours his dessert the best before any dish. He eats mochi, ice cream, cookies and whatever sweets there are on the table like it was his last meal. You recall one of the maids gasp as a drop of cream lands on your cheek when he slammed his fork in his cake.
Satoru is free in his affection for the boy, unexpectedly flourishing in fatherhood. He remains firm in his belief that children should be children and makes an effort to see Hiroki out. Satoru becomes known to sneak the child away from the estate to parks, to mini-vacations you begrudgingly join after Satoru’s incessant pestering. And of course- school. Hiroki made history once again when Satoru announced his decision to enroll Hiroki in a totally normal, public Japanese preschool.
You realize that Satoru was meant to be a father. And one good one at that. It brings you comfort that any children that he is at least good to his son after he confessed his plan to be a teacher after graduation.
Tokyo’s jujutsu highschool would be blessed with his presence, thought one of Satoru’s female seniors would disagree.
“Yo, Y/N-chan,” came a voice.
You twist your body over to the source of the voice, and your face lights up at the sight of a familiar face. “Getou-san!”
If Satoru's presence is an overwhelming force, making everyone and everything bow to him as if he is god, Getou is a dark, uneasy, slinking feeling. His cat-like features morph into a happy expression with a polite smile on his lips.
“Is there a mission today?” You ask as Getou comes nearer. Satoru would try his best to keep any of his classmates away from his estate, but there is nothing he can hide from Getou and Shoko. "Can I come?"
After you had let slip that you wanted to become a licensed sorcerer, Satoru had made it a habit to sneak you into some missions with Getou. You had fretted about the technical legalities and questioned the safety of the public when an inexperienced sorcerer like you enter the battlefield but Satoru merely shrugged and simply gestured to his best friend. We're the strongest!
Getou leans his shoulder on the wall. "Nope, not this one Y/N."
“I see,” you say, failing to hide your disappointment. Sometimes you wonder why you enjoy the missions so much. Was it the thrill of doing something you never would? Perhaps it was the freedom of it all, unleashing your power to poor curses who quiver beneath your feet?
Your ears perked at a familiar high pitched laugh, and your eyes immediately lock to the window where Hiroki soon runs across. He has dried soil on his feet. His pale hair is slicked back with sweat and it glistens against the sun like snow.
A maid forces a laugh in panic as she tries to catch him with his shoes on one hand.
Away from him. That’s why you enjoy it.
Getou follows your line of sight. “How is he?”
You glare at him. “How would I know?”
Everyone knows that Hiroki is a taboo topic if it’s within your earshot, lest they want the you in a foul mood. But Getou does not shy away from his question and only raises an eyebrow, calling your bluff.
“You’re telling me you do not know your own household?”
“The garden is his place,” you sigh., and admitting it felt like defeat. “He likes the grass on his feet and likes big spaces. He gets angsty when a room is too small.”
“Mmhm,” Getou agrees. “Did you know Satoru plans to enroll him in a daycare?”
Your eyes widen in horror. “In a- what?” You shriek. “He has a dozen of servants here willing to serve him-! Does he even realize the risk he’s putting the boy in? Assassins, curses, cursed users…” you trail off, remembering your own childhood. It was strange to be surrounded by servants but feeling so alone at the same time. “I see.” A daycare meant potential friends, friends that you never got to have. “Does…does the boy like it at least?”
“Me?” Getou barks out a surprised laugh. “Shouldn’t you know that?”
You glare at him. Getou meets your gaze unapologetically, almost as if he was challenging you. Finally, he sighs. “Have you ever talked to him at least?”
You roll your eyes. Your sharp tone echoes around the room. “And why would I do that? He is no concern to me.”
"He needs you."
"He does not need me," you snap, suddenly impatient for Satoru to come out of wherever he’s hiding so Getou and him can go. “He will resent me when he’s older, I know it.”
You have seen this same scene over and over again. Children and the wife of the husband do not get along. Both suffer at the existence of the other. This is the fate that Satoru had subjected you to. This is the fate you have set upon yourself when you refused to send him away. You wonder if your kindness will cost you one day.
“Well,” Getou shrugged nonchalantly. “You haven’t given him any reason to like you either.”
You opened your mouth to retort, only to be interrupted by Satoru.
“Getouu,” he whined, comically trudging towards his best friend with a hunched back. “Why are you so early?”
You see Getou open his mouth to reply, but you are lost in your head. You watch Getou ignore Satoru’s childish gimmicks, already dragging him out of the room and towards the door. You feel Satoru kiss your cheek before waving goodbye, but your head was in a daze mindlessly repeating Getou’s words. You feel shiver creep down your spine before shifting your gaze towards the garden where Hiroki’s presence was last.
-
thank you so much for reading guys! i’d love to hear all criticisms and suggestions for this universe <33 please lmk through comments :>
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die french
❝ IN THE MOMENT ❞ + (aki, denji, yoshida, angel devil, kishibe )
+. CWs — female anatomy, she /her pronouns, cum play, corruption kink, voyeurism, unprotected, oral acts, sex toys, s/d dynamics, bdsm themes.
+. synopsis — where they would like to cum? Would they cum inside you if given a chance to hit it raw or strictly prefer orals?
+. notes — congratulations. I've finally found my debut format for headcanons to touch a new fandom.
+. tap here to browse my works.
Aki insists on wearing a condom. However,He has thought many times how your gummy walls would feel around his cock. He has been jacking off quite frequently wrapping his fingers tightly around his cock, imagining it to be your raw cunt hugging his aching cock. But when you told him you ran out of condoms he couldn't just let the chance slip rather he took it saying that he'll pull out in time. And that is how he ended up having your legs over his shoulder as he fucks you. He has been jamming into your whole for a while and he can't seem to get enough of this view: you grabbing tits as he pounds into you. Aki can't think straight, and neither can you but when you convey to pull it out, he suddenly remembers. And he listens to you, how could he not? especially when you haven't been other whiney bitches who didn't let him do it raw. “Yes...yeesh ...ohhh fucckk. baby..”, he groans as he shoots his cum all over your belly and a little bit over your pussy lips. You rub yourself while he watches his hole clench. Aki thinks he could try this another time but he is coming back to have a nice fuck.
Denji might be desperate for sex but he is not willing to give up the feeling of your hands around his cock or your warm mouth sheathing his cock. He prefers the former since he can touch your boobs if you let him, otherwise, he will happily gawk at your naked boobs, and watch your nipples grow hard and wide. But with you pumping his cock, spitting on his tip to make it faster than usual makes him recoil in pleasure. An echo of groans fills the room as you quicken the pace. “Can I cum? uh....nigh...can I cum now?”, he eagerly asks. He might not be near his orgasm but the thought of you kissing him while giving him a hand job makes him do anything for you, be a good boy to you. It's so easy to make him cum at times like these especially when he asks for quickies so bashfully. You kiss his dry lips depriving him of the air to breathe as you keep stroking his cock. He groans as you pinch his nipples slowing down your strokes and at such an abrupt stimulation he cums, white slimy fluid coating all over your palm. “Waah! I came.”, he coos excitedly. And he'll let you go for another shot if you don't need to get back to work right away.
Yoshida loved teasing you, eating you out mercilessly until you begged him to stop. Sometimes he would tie your hands so that he could jerk off with one hand while eating you out. He is not always up for sex, he tends to find orals far more exhilarating than some normal vanilla sex. Putting a vibrator inside your pussy while he sucks your boobs, or watching you fuck yourself on a dildo was just the tip of the iceberg to him. But when you crawled in between his legs with a vibrator clipped over your vagina, he wanted to kiss you and tell you how obedient and praise you for being a fast learner. The view of his cum smothering your face is so thrilling but how can he not cum inside your mouth when you had been sucking him off while he was playing with the intensity of the vibrator, that is, how long you would last? would you last longer than him? You would occasionally pull away from sucking him off since the heat pooling in between in legs needed to be aided immediately. You wanted to touch yourself but that would be his win even though that might make him cum sooner than expected. But when you notice him grabbing the sheets, keeping the controller away you could taste the victory in your mouth. You wanted to win sure, but you wanted to feel him envious about it. Taking his aroused cock pushing it further, the tip hitting the back of your throat you felt it hard to breathe. Loads of thick, murky fluid oozed out of his cock down to your throat. Finally, you look up to him, with doe eyes as he says "you just keep getting better and better"
Angel devil never thought he would be able to have this, have a taste of heaven as you would agree to let him fuck you raw. With his hands under your inner thighs, having your arms curled around his nape he can barely fuck you properly. But that has been helpful because he has craved to be cockwarmed by you. His wings occasionally flap while he moves to and fro slowly feeling your cream smothering his cock. “You’ll pull out right?”, you ask him as he quickens his pace. At first, he tries to shut you up with a kiss but when you push him away he coyly drawls, “do you want that?” You wince as you feel a harsh stroke, his balls slap your cunt. You nod at him bucking your hips in the intention of not letting a drop spill outside. The moment he cums, his ivory wings spread open, his head was thrown back and his eyes are squeezed shut. It was almost reflexive. He was confused when he noticed his wings wide open in the air. Now, who wouldn't like to see that lovely sight once more?
Kishibe in his early forties finds it hard to keep his lust at bay and it seems to dissolve every time he sees you in that cute pink outfit he bought for you. He just wants to have you sprawled out underneath him plugging his cum into your tummy. But he can't do that, at least for now. When he will have you convinced to take pills and then he will waste no time ramming his cock into your sweet pussy. For now, he can go for other options like having you in between his legs, rubbing your cherry-tainted cheeks occasionally while you suck him off. He never warns before cumming but you seem to find a pattern of his orgasm. After all, it has been a while since he had you under his wing. When he lays back, thighs spreading more, hips bucking up as he shudders nearing his high, you quickly pull away letting his cum spread all over your throat and boobs. He thinks, maybe, he likes this view. Maybe, he can now fuck you raw in all positions so that you don't whine for another pink dress.
+. tags ( our little csm club UwU )— @zoraedits @cyancherub @akicore @kentoangel @yofumi @httphaitani @21-06-1996 @dejwrites @garoujo @fueledbysano @em-plosion @luvbladez @sailewhoremoon @juuzuu & @tokyometronetwork
I see no lies.
ALL OUT OF LUCK
pairing. k. bakugou x reader
synopsis. you had the biggest, fattest crush on bakugou katsuki in high school, which granted you weird looks and judgment from those who found out, because why, when you could fawn over prince-like todoroki or manly kirishima instead? fast forward to 10 years later, though, and now the joke’s on them, because #2 pro-hero dynamight just got dubbed the hottest bachelor of the year. but that doesn’t matter, because you’re over him now. you’ve been over him, ever since that butchered attempt at confessing where he dismissed you as a gen ed extra before you could even get the words out. so why, all of a sudden—and an entire decade later—do you have to work with him on a top-secret mission?
status. completed (42.4k)
tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), a lot of cussing (bkg-typical), several mentions of bullying & discrimination (quirk supremacy), reader has a quirk :0, reader is alluded to being smaller than bkg, canon-typical violence, mentions of food, mentions of physical and mental health issues, nsfw themes (is there gonna be eventual smut? fuck around and find out)
links. ao3
꩜ .ᐟ chapter one
꩜ .ᐟ chapter two
꩜ .ᐟ chapter three
꩜ .ᐟ chapter four
꩜ .ᐟ chapter five
꩜ .ᐟ chapter six
꩜ .ᐟ chapter seven
꩜ .ᐟ chapter eight
꩜ .ᐟ chapter nine