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canichangemyblogname · 7 months

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I watched all eight episodes of season 1 of Blue Eye Samurai over the weekend. I then went browsing because I wanted to read some online reviews of the show to see what people were thinking of it and also because I wanted to interact with gifs and art, as the series is visually stunning.

Yet, in my search for opinions on the show, I came across several points I'd like to address in my own words:

Mizu’s history and identity are revealed piece-by-piece and the “peaches” scene with Mizu and Ringo at the lake is intended to be a major character reveal. I think it’s weird that some viewers got angry over other viewers intentionally not gendering Mizu until that reveal, rather than immediately jumping to gender the character as the other characters in the show do. The creators intentionally left Mizu’s gender and sexuality ambiguous (and quite literally wrote in lines to lead audiences to question both) to challenge the viewer’s gut assumption that this lone wolf samurai is a man. That intentional ambiguity will lead to wide and ambiguous interpretations of where Mizu fits in, if Mizu fits in at all. But don't just take my word for this:

Re: above. I also think it’s weird that some viewers got upset over other viewers continuing to acknowledge that Mizu has a very complicated relationship with her gender, even after that reveal. Canonically, she has a very complicated relationship with her identity. The character is intended to represent liminality in identity, where she’s often between identities in a world of forced binaries that aren’t (widely) socially recognized as binaries. But, again, don’t just take my word for this:

Mizu is both white and Japanese, but she is also not white and not Japanese simultaneously (too white to be Japanese and too Japanese to be white). She’s a woman and a man. She’s a man who’s a woman. She’s also a woman who’s not a woman (yet also not quite a man). But she’s also a woman; the creators said so. Mizu was raised as a boy and grew into a man, yet she was born a girl, and boyhood was imposed upon her. She’s a woman when she’s a man, a man when she’s a man, and a woman when she’s a woman.

Additionally, Mizu straddles the line between human and demon. She’s a human in the sense she’s mortal but a demon in the sense she’s not. She's human yet otherworldly. She's fallible yet greatness. She's both the ronin and the bride, the samurai and the onryō. In short, it’s complicated, and that’s the point. Ignoring that ignores a large part of her internal character struggle and development.

Mizu is intended to represent an “other,” someone who stands outside her society in every way and goes to lengths to hide this “otherness” to get by. Gender is a mask; a tool. She either hides behind a wide-brimmed hat, glasses, and laconic anger, or she hides behind makeup, her dress, and a frown. She fits in nowhere, no matter the identity she assumes. Mizu lives in a very different time period within a very different sociocultural & political system where the concept of gender and the language surrounding it is unlike what we are familiar with in our every-day lives. But, again, don’t just take my word for this:

It’s also weird that some viewers have gotten upset over the fact women and queer people (and especially queer women) see themselves in Mizu. Given her complicated relationship with identity under the patriarchy and colonial violence, I think Mizu is a great character for cis-het women and queer folks alike to relate to. Her character is also great for how she breaks the mold on the role of a biracial character in narratives about identity (she’s not some great bridge who will unite everyone). It does not hurt anyone that gender-fluid and nonbinary people see themselves in Mizu's identity and struggle with identity. It does not hurt anyone that lesbians see themselves in the way Mizu expresses her gender. It does not hurt anyone that trans men see themselves in Mizu's relationship with manhood or that trans women can see themselves in Mizu when Mama forces her to be a boy. It's also really cool that cis-het women see themselves in Mizu's struggles to find herself. Those upset over these things are missing critical aspects of Mizu's character and are no different from the other characters in the story. The only time Mizu is herself is when she’s just Mizu (“…her gender was Mizu”), and many of the other characters are unwilling to accept "just Mizu." Accepting her means accepting the complicatedness of her gender.

Being a woman under the patriarchy is complicated and gives women a complicated relationship with their gender and identity. It is dangerous to be a woman. Women face violence for being women. Being someone who challenges sex-prescribed norms and roles under patriarchy also gives someone a complicated relationship with their identity. It is dangerous to usurp gender norms and roles (then combine that with being a woman...). People who challenge the strict boxes they're assigned face violence for existing, too. Being a racial or ethnic minority in a racially homogeneous political system additionally gives someone a complicated relationship with their identity. It is dangerous to be an ethnic minority when the political system is reproduced on your exclusion and otherness. They, too, face violence for the circumstances of their birth. All of these things are true. None of them take away from the other.

Mizu is young-- in her early 20s-- and she has been hurt in deeply affecting ways. She's angry because she's been hurt in so many different ways. She's been hurt by gender violence, like "mama's" misogyny and the situation of her birth (her mother's rape and her near murder as a child), not to mention the violent and dehumanizing treatment of the women around her. She's been hurt by racial violence, like the way she has been tormented and abused since childhood for the way she looks (with people twice trying to kill her for this before adulthood). She's been hurt by state-sanctioned violence as she faces off against the opium, flesh, and black market traders working with white men in contravention of the Shogun's very policies, yet with sanction from the Shogun. She's been hurt by colonial violence, like the circumstances of her birth and the flood of human trafficking and weapons and drug trafficking in her country. She's had men break her bones and knock her down before, but only Fowler sexually differentiated her based on bone density and fracture.

Mizu also straddles the line between victim and murderer.

It seems like Mizu finding her 'feminine' and coming to terms with her 'female side' may be a part of her future character development. Women who feel caged by modern patriarchal systems and alienated from their bodies due to the patriarchy will see themselves in Mizu. They understand a desire for freedom that the narrow archetypes of the patriarchy do not afford them as women, and they see their anger and their desire for freedom in Mizu. This, especially considering that Mizu's development was driven by one of the creators' own experiences with womanhood:

No, Mizu does not pass as a man because she "hates women" or because she hates herself as a woman or being a woman. There are actual on-screen depictions of Mizu's misogyny, like her interactions with Akemi, and dressing like a man is not an instance of this. Mizu shows no discomfort with being a woman or being seen as a woman, especially when she intends to pass herself as and present as a woman. Mizu also shows the women in the series more grace and consideration than any man in the show, in whatever capacity available to her socially and politically, without revealing herself; many of the women have remarked that she is quite unlike other men, and she's okay with that, too.

When she lives on the farm with Mama and Mikio, Mizu shows no discomfort once she acclimates to the new life. But people take this as conclusive evidence of the "only time" she was happy. She was not. This life was also a dance, a performance. The story of her being both the ronin and the onryō revealed to the audience that this lifestyle also requires her to wear a mask and dance, just as the bride does. This mask is makeup, a wedding dress, and submission, and this performance is her gender as a wife. She still understands that she cannot fully be herself and only begins to express happiness and shed her reservation when she believes she is finally safe to be herself. Only to be betrayed. Being a man is her safety, and it is familiar. Being a boy protected her from the white men as a child, and it might protect her heart now.

Mizu shows no discomfort with being known as a woman, except when it potentially threatens her goals (see Ringo and the "peaches" scene). She also shows no discomfort with being known as, seen as, or referred to as a man. As an adult, she seems okay- even familiar- with people assuming she's a man and placing her into the role of a man. Yet, being born a girl who has boyhood violently imposed upon her (she did not choose what mama did to her) is also an incredibly important part of her lived experience. Being forced into boyhood, but growing into a man anyway became part of who she is. But, being a man isn’t just a part of who she became; it’s also expedient for her goals because men and women are ontologically different in her world and the system she lives under.

She's both because she's neither, because- ontologically- she fits nowhere. When other characters point out how "unlike" a man she is, she just shrugs it off, but not in a "well, yeah, because I'm NOT a man" sort of way, but in an "I'm unlike anyone, period," sort of way. She also does not seem offended by Madam Kaji saying that Mizu’s more man than any who have walked through her door.

(Mizu doesn’t even see herself as human, let alone a woman, as so defined by her society. And knowing that creators have stated her future arc is about coming into her “feminine era” or energy, I am actually scared that this show might fall into the trope of “domesticating”/“taming” the independent woman, complete with an allegory that her anger and lack of human-ness [in Mizu’s mind] is a result of a woman having too much “masculine energy” or being masculine in contravention of womanness.)

Some also seem to forget that once Mama and Mikio are dead, no one knows who she is or where she came from. They do not have her background, and they do not know about the bounty on her (who levied the bounty and why has not yet been explained). After their deaths, she could have gone free and started anew somehow. But in that moment, she chose to go back to life as a man and chose to pursue revenge for the circumstances of her birth. Going forward, this identity is no longer imposed upon her by Mama, or a result of erroneous conclusions from local kids and Master Eiji; it was because she wanted people to see her as a man and she was familiar with navigating her world, and thus her future, as a man. And it was because she was angry, too, and only men can act on their anger.

I do think it important to note that Mizu really began to allow herself to be vulnerable and open as a woman, until she was betrayed. The question I've been rattling around is: is this because she began to feel safe for the first time in her life, or is this part of how she sees women ontologically? Because she immediately returns to being a man and emotionally hard following her betrayal. But, she does seem willing to confide in Master Eiji, seek his advice, and convey her anxieties to him.

Being a man also confines Mizu to strict social boxes, and passing herself as a man is also dangerous.

Mizu doesn't suddenly get to do everything and anything she wants because she passes as a man. She has to consider her safety and the danger of her sex being "found out." She must also consider what will draw unnecessary attention to her and distract her from her goals. Many viewers, for example, were indignant that she did not offer to chaperone the mother and daughter and, instead, left them to the cold, only to drop some money at their feet later. The indignity fails consider that while she could bribe herself inside while passing as a man, she could not bribe in two strangers. Mizu is a strange man to that woman and does not necessarily have the social position to advocate for the mother and daughter. She also must consider that causing small social stirs would distract from her goals and draw certain attention to her. Mizu is also on a dangerous and violent quest.

Edo Japan was governed by strict class, age, and gender rules. Those rules applied to men as well as women. Mizu is still expected to act within these strict rules when she's a man. Being a man might allow her to pursue revenge, but she's still expected to put herself forward as a man, and that means following all the specific rules that apply to her class as a samurai, an artisan (or artist), and a man. That wide-brimmed hat, those orange-tinted glasses, and her laconic tendencies are also part of a performance. Being a boy is the first mask she wore and dance she performed, and she was originally (and tragically) forced into it.

Challenging the normative identities of her society does not guarantee her safety. She has limitations because of her "otherness," and the transgression of sex-prescribed roles has often landed people in hot water as opposed to saving them from boiling. Mizu is passing herself off as a man every day of her life at great risk to her. If her sex is "found out" on a larger scale, society won’t resort to or just start treating her as a woman. There are far worse fates than being perceived as a woman, and hers would not simply be a tsk-tsk, slap on the wrist; now you have to wear makeup. Let's not treat being a woman-- even with all the pressures, standards, fears, and risks that come with existing as a woman-- as the worst consequence for being ‘found out’ for transgressing normative identity.

The violence Mizu would face upon being "found out" won’t only be a consequence of being a "girl." Consider not just the fact she is female and “cross-dressing” (outside of theater), but also that she is a racial minority.

I also feel like many cis-het people either ignore or just cannot see the queerness in challenging gender roles (and thus also in stories that revolve around a subversion of sex-prescribed gender). They may not know how queerness-- or "otherness"-- leads to challenging strict social stratifications and binaries nor how challenging them is seen by the larger society as queer ("strange," "suspicious," "unconventional," even "dishonorable," and "fraudulent"), even when "queerness" (as in LGBTQ+) was not yet a concept as we understand it today.

Gender and sexuality- and the language we use to communicate who we are- varies greatly across time and culture. Edo Japan was governed by strict rules on what hairstyles, clothes, and weapons could be worn by which gender, age, and social group, and this was often enshrined in law. There were specific rules about who could have sex with whom and how. These values and rules were distinctly Japanese and would not incorporate Western influences until the late 1800s. Class was one of the most consequential features to define a person's fate in feudal Japan, and gender was quite stratified. This does not mean it's inappropriate for genderqueer people to see themselves in Mizu, nor does this mean that gender-variant identities didn’t exist in Edo Japan.

People in the past did not use the same language we do today to refer to themselves. Example: Alexander The Great did not call himself a "bisexual." We all understand this. However, there is a very weird trend of people using these differences in language and cultures across time to deny aspects of a historical person's life that societies today consider taboo, whether these aspects were considered taboo during that historical time period or not. Same example: people on Twitter complaining that Netflix "made" Alexander The Great "gay," and after people push back and point out that the man did, in fact, love and fuck men, hitting back with "homosexuality wasn't even a word back then" or "modern identity didn't exist back then." Sure, that word did not exist in 300s BCE Macedonia, but that doesn't mean the man didn't love men, nor does that mean that we can't recognize that he'd be considered "queer" by today's standards and language.

Genderqueer, as a word and as the concept is understood today, did not exist in feudal Japan, but the people did and feudal Japan had its own terms and concepts that referred to gender variance. But while the show takes place in Edo Japan, it is a modern adult animation series made by a French studio and two Americans (nationality). Mizu is additionally a fictional character, not a historical figure. She was not created in a vacuum. She was created in the 21st century and co-written by a man who got his start writing for Sex in the City and hails from a country that is in the midst of a giant moral panic about genderqueer/gender-variant people and gender non-conforming people.

This series was created by two Americans (nationality) for an American company. In some parts of that country, there are laws on the book strictly defining the bounds of men and women and dictating what clothes men and women could be prosecuted for wearing. Changes in language and identity over time mean that we can recognize that if Mizu lived in modern Texas, the law would consider her a drag performer, and modern political movements in the show creators' home country would include her under the queer umbrella.

So, yeah, there will also be genderqueer people who see themselves in Mizu, and there will be genderqueer fans who are firm about Mizu being queer to them and in their “headcanons.” The scene setting being Edo Japan, does not negate the modern ideas that influence the show. "Nonbinary didn't exist in Edo Japan" completely ignores that this show was created to explore the liminality of modern racial, gender, class, and normative identities. One of the creators was literally inspired by her own relationship with her biracial identity.

Ultimately, the fact Mizu, at this point in her journey, chooses to present and pass as a man and the fact her presented gender affects relationship dynamics with other characters (see: Taigen) gives this story a queer undertone. And this may have been largely unintentional: "She’s a girl, and he’s a guy, so, of course, they get together," < ignoring how said guy thinks she’s a guy and that she intentionally passes herself as a guy. Audiences ARE going to interpret this as queer because WE don’t live in Edo-era Japan. And I feel like people forget that Mizu can be a woman and the story can still have queer undertones to it at the same time.

#Blue Eye Samurai #‘If I was transported back in time… I’d try to pass myself off as a man for greater freedom.’#^^^ does not consider the intersection of historically queer existence across time with other identities (& the limitations those include)#nor does it consider the danger of such an action #I get it. some come to this conclusion simply because they know how dangerous it is to be a woman throughout history.#but rebuking the normative identities of that time period also puts you at great risk of violence #challenging norms and rules and social & political hierarchies does not make you safer #and it has always been those who exist in the margins of society who have challenged sociocultural systems #it has always been those at greatest risk and who've faced great violence already. like Mizu #Anyway... Mizu is just Mizu #she is gender queer (or gender-variant)#because her relationship with her gender is queer. because she is gender-variant #‘queer’ as a social/political class did not exist. but people WE understand as queer existed in different historical eras #and under different cultural systems #she’s a woman because queer did not exist & ‘woman’ was the sex caste she was born into #she’s also a woman because she conceptualizes herself as so #she is a woman AND she is gender-variant #she quite literally challenges normative identity and is a clear example of what sex non-conforming means #Before the actual. historic Tokugawa shogunate banned women from theater #there were women in the theater who cross-dressed for the theater and played male roles #so I’m also really tired of seeing takes along the lines of: ‘Edo Japan was backwards so cross dressers did’t exist then!’#like. please. be more transparent won’t you?

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tonycries · 6 months

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One More? Please? - G.S.

Synopsis. A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, coworkers to lovers, being stuck in that damn box, oral (female), mutual másturbation, spitting, fáce-sítting, máting press, Satoru is down bad for you, chóking, overstim, multiple rounds, créampie, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. Happy belated two months to this blog! Concept inspired by this post by @kingkonoha.

“Maybe we should kiss and see if the box opens?”

“That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

“Hey- it works in the movies! True love’s kiss and all-”

You heave out a heavy sigh that makes even the skeleton at your shoulder shake its head in pity. Goddamn, if these curses weren’t going to kill him then you will.

“I take it back. That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

Satoru hooks a thumb over his blindfold to gaze at you with mock seriousness. Oh, how the mighty have fallen - and how you were teetering dangerously close to a stroke with each dramatic bat of his long lashes.

“C’monnn~” he whines, with the flair of someone that was not sealed in an inescapable prison, “Don’t tell me that in all these years you’ve never once been at least a little tempted to kiss me, sweetheart.”

“I’d rather kiss that dusty skull.” Shooting him a pointed look that makes even the skulls at your feet recoil. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that you were trapped. In the prison realm. With Gojo Satoru of all people. Possibly forever.

Shit, is this karma for all those times you ditched Satoru with Nanami instead of dealing with him yourself?

Now, Satoru might be going about it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but just a few minutes ago when his life flashed before his very eyes at the mere sight of Suguru - or at least, the monster wearing his body - he’d expected some of his favorite memories to be the ones with you in it.

You - his lil’ coworker - in all your gorgeous, smart-mouthed glory. And maybe if he was lucky, he even expected a couple glimpses of you in his future. Preferably with a giant rock on your finger.

But that’s a story for another time, what he certainly did not expect was for your stupidly heroic (and quite beautiful) ass to jump right in the middle of the prison realm’s ensnarement.

Although, honestly, right now he doesn’t think he’d want to be locked up in here with anyone but you - and that withering glare you send him.

Undeterred, Satoru has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. A sound you’ve come to realize over the years, as innocent as it sounds, does not bode well for you or your sanity.

A sanity that’s been slowly dwindling since your first day of meeting Satoru. Back then, a brash, cocky new teacher that waltzed into the halls of Jujutsu Tech in those pretentious sunglasses like he owned the place.

Well, not that he was any different right now. Lounging over some disgruntled skeletons, you half-expected him to pull out a deck chair and start sunbathing amidst the bones. Your begrudging coworker - and occasional bane of your existence - seemed right at home.

You, however, were decidedly not having the time of your life.

“I swear, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you grumble, wincing at the bones prodding you from almost every angle.

“Can you blame me?” he hums, now fully tugging down his blindfold to hang around his neck, “It’s not every day I get to spend quality time with my favorite person in the world.”

You scoff, strangely self-conscious as those striking blue sweep your figure from head to toe. “Lucky me. Well why don’t you spend this quality time helping me figure out how the hell we can get out of here.”

“I already told y-”

“Anything but that.”

With a sulky huff, Satoru peers down at you, “Then we just wait till someone gets us out of here. I’m sure Megumi-chan is just tearing his emo hair out trying to unseal this thing.”

“...”

“You’re absolutely correct, Yuji then. Or…” he tilts his head towards a sad pile of bones, “We end up like our little friend over there. Though I’d make a far better looking skeleton-”

You don’t hear the rest of Satoru’s rant over the small noise of concern that falls from your lips. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach at the fact that yes you really were stuck in the prison realm with Gojo Satoru. Possibly forever. And no this wasn’t some strange dream like when you and Shoko accidentally raided the wrong brownie box in the kitchen.

Shit.

And perhaps it showed on your face, because you’re jolted out of your reverie by warm fingers intertwining with yours. Grounding. Satoru’s eyes now searching yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably.

“Hey, we’ll figure this out, okay?” he mutters softly. “Remember that time we accidentally set the training ground on fire?” leaning in closer now, “Or that mission we got chased by that cursed vending machine?”

You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, and then you nearly got us killed trying to order a sweet tea. ”

Satoru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “See? It worked out, didn’t it? It always does, sweetheart.”

And if your heart does a strange little lurch, well, then you just blame it on the femur jabbing into your side.

All is quiet in your little hell. That is, until.

“Hey, Satoru…does kissing really work in the movies?”

You barely catch the way Satoru’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly as he leans in closer. eyes sparkling with mischief. And oh you knew that look - one that was usually accompanied by a lecture by Yaga, one that sent shivers down your spine. He grins, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, hm?”

Embarrassment and amusement bubbles inside you, tumbling out in the form of a barely-audible, “A peck. One.”

“Awww. Eight?”’

“No.”

“Five?”

“Satoru.”

Minty breath fanning your face, “Okay okay, one peck and a kiss to your forehead. C’mon, it’s a bargain~”

Pinching your nose, you sigh out a weary, “This is so stupid. Fine, but if it doesn’t work then I’m strangling you.”

And it’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.

Soft. Satoru’s lips were so soft. And he tasted so unfairly of caramel apples and sweet, sweet mischief. Just like him. Feather-light and fleeting - yet the kiss burns into your brain with an intensity that you strangely didn’t mind.

It’s over before you know it. The cold air hits your lips as Satoru’s words ring in your ears, a disappointed little, “Aw, that didn’t work.”

Barely even risking a glance at the still very sealed realm, your body reacts before your mind - the expensive cotton of his uniform collar soft against your fingers as you pull Satoru towards you with a sense of urgency you can’t quite explain.

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you because shit this is all that Satoru’s been dreaming about since he turned 23 and suddenly realized that oh you were frighteningly everything that he ever wanted.

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, breathless against his lips.

“Shhhh, my girl. One more. Didn’t work.”

His lips are searing on yours. Urgent and greedy, because fuck if it took getting trapped in the prison realm to finally kiss you then God knows when he’ll be able to again.

Which is why he breathes you in like he doesn’t have enough time, and probably never will - even in this godforsaken box where time never passes.

“Shit. O-one more.”

Drinking in your sweet gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were. Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to squeeze your ass - and everything in between.

Pulling away ever-so-slightly with a playful bite to your bottom lip, he leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The disappointed whine that leaves your pretty mouth makes all the blood in Satoru’s body rush to his cock.

“Sweetheart.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. “Y’think I kissed the wrong lips?”

Oh?

Satoru’s words send a jolt of electricity running down your spine - all the way down to your heated cunt. “W-what?” you managed to choke out, cheeks flaring as he raises his eyes to meet yours and-

Oh.

Oh, shit. If the curses weren’t going to kill you then Satoru sure might.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Satoru carefully jostling the two of you so that he’s lying on his back, your body manhandled to straddle his pretty face.

“Satoru, when you mean ‘wrong lips’...here?” you trail off, still reeling from him and the abrupt change in position and him.

“Exactly what I mean,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating beneath your dripping cunt. “Now, spread ‘em wider f’me. Let me taste you- Need it s’bad.”

Body moving as if on autopilot, your knees part wider to let him greedily take in the sight of your soaked panties. Beads of slick seeping through the thin fabric each time his hot breath meets your cunt.

But not for long - the cool air hits you before you realize what’s happening. Because Satoru is ripping your flimsy panties off with one hand. Throwing it behind to God-knows-where with the urgency of a madman.

“Shit, so wet f’me already.” he groans, mouth watering at the obscene sight of you clenching around nothing. “S’gorgeous. You really are perfect everywhere, huh?” he mutters through lazy, languid kisses along your thighs. Tongue darting out just so to leisurely trace circles along the heated skin.

Strong arms wrap around your thighs, the stretch nothing with the two long fingers spreading your swollen folds apart. Your face burns from just how adoring Satoru looks below you.

You buck into his touch, “Hngh- Please. Wan’ your mouth on me.”

And perhaps the great Gojo Satoru decided to be merciful for once in his life, because without another word, he’s surging forward. Tongue flicking out to tease your sloppy entrance, pooling your juices before tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat so sinfully.

Shit, Satoru could just cum in his pants right now, of course you taste heavenly. Better than he could’ve ever imagined on any lonely night.

You shudder as he flattens his tongue across your folds, sliding teasingly between them, grazing your swollen clit just barely at an unhurried rhythm that almost has Satoru forgetting where he was. But quite frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he hums around your clit, the vibrations making you squeal. Sucking gently, tongue rolling harshly against your bundle of nerves, over and over- “Cause it’s what I’ve been wanting for years.”

The words ring in your ears almost as much as the lewd squelches below. Years?

“F-fuck- feels hngh- What do you mean y-years, Satoru?”

Oh, Satoru thinks he could pass out just at the way you whine out his name so prettily. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a hand hastily snaking down to unbuckle his pants. “Mhmm~ Couldn’t go a day without sparring with you where I didn’t think of bending you over and tasting you right there y’know.”

Your eyes snap down to meet Satoru’s hazy, half-lidded ones. Something dark and feral shining within them. And right now, thighs wrapped around his head, you don’t think he’s ever looked happier. White locks splayed out, a fucked-out expression on his face as his tongue bullies past your folds, you could feel the slight smile curling his lips against you.

It’s overwhelming - both his confession and the way Satoru was making out with your cunt like a man starved.

Nose-deep in your pussy, tongue alternating between its abuse on your throbbing clit and dipping in and out of your sloppy hole at a maddening pace. Mouth only speeding up ruthlessly at the way you convulse and grind involuntarily on top of him.

God, Satoru was going insane at the way your walls were sucking him up so good, clamping down with each push of his tongue.

“Shit- made jus’ f’me. You like that, don’t you?” he growls against your cunt, voice hoarse with desire. “Like fucking my face with your pussy?”

“Oh! Ngh, yes Satoru- L-love it-”

A bruising grip on your hips, encouraging you to rock against his face. Harder. Tongue more desperate. He couldn’t get enough. Meeting your every grind, tongue lapping at your cunt so obscenely.

Breaths ragged and hot against your cunt, drinking you in with the desperation of a man that wouldn’t mind giving up air for your essence. And it was Satoru - of course he wouldn’t mind.

Especially with the large hand snaking up your thigh, going from drawing reassuring patterns at your hips to rubbing tight, little circles on your pulsing clit. Hasty, and urgent - like he had no time to waste. “Tha’s right, my girl. Give it up for me,”

Every cell in your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure at the way Satoru plays your body like an instrument.

“M’close, Satoru- Hah- s’close.” you moan breathlessly, a hand tangling in his soft strands. Using it as leverage to ride Satoru’s pretty face just the way you like it.

But you didn’t have to - because Satoru seems to already know exactly what to do. Exactly how to quirk his tongue just right to brush against all your most sensitive spots. Exactly how to match the rhythm of his abuse on your clit to the way he was tonguefucking you into delirium. Exactly how to look at you with such a hungry expression that devours you almost as much as his mouth.

“Cum f’me, sweetheart.”

Satoru didn’t even have to ask. Because you’re cumming with a strangled gasp of his name. White-hot pleasure coursing through you like lightning, body trembling as you cum all over Satoru’s pretty face.

Hands moving your limp, boneless hips across his face, forcing you to ride out peak after peak on his red lips.

As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs.

Oh, how beautiful he was like this.

“S-S’toru?” you mewl, still sensitive from your orgasm as Satoru shifts underneath you to sit you prettily in his lap.

“Mhm?” he nuzzles your neck.

“One more. It didn’t work.”

Oh, if you knew the only way to shut up Gojo Satoru was to say something like this then you would’ve done it a lot sooner.

But Satoru’s stunned silence doesn’t last for long, because he grins, low and sultry, “You’re right. It didn’t work.”

The metallic clinking of a belt echoes in the stuffy chamber as Satoru hastily pushes down his pants. Cock springing free to hit his lower abs, “What a shame.”

You blink at the sheer size of him - he was going to split you in two. It was unfair, really. Water is wet. Gojo Satoru has a big dick.

But oh was he pretty - so pretty. Prominent veins glistening in the dim lighting, fat tip flushed your favorite shade of delicate pink, leaking furiously in between your thighs.

Gulping, you reach out to wrap your hand around his achingly hard cock. So warm and heavy in your hands. “Y-yeah, what a shame.”

Both of you watch - entranced - at the way he twitches in your grasp at the mere sound of your voice. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! against your palm as you begin pumping him slowly - so agonizingly slow.

“Oh- Feel s’good, sweetheart.” Satoru hisses lowly as you swipe at the precum beading at this head. Thumbing teasingly under his sensitive slit, tracing delicately along his veins.

And by God does it do something to you to see the great Gojo Satoru falling apart for you, hair tousled, lips kiss-bitten, and eyes looking at you like he wanted to positively eat you alive. It made your cunt throb so desperately, slick forming a dark wet patch on his trousers.

Not one to be left behind, his long fingers deftly snake down to your dripping cunt. Not wasting any time before bullying his fingertips past your swollen folds, curling expertly to press down against that one spot that has your fist faltering on his cock. Hard.

Pretty little moans left your lips at the way Satoru so easily matches your pace. Thrusting knuckle-deep into your pussy in and out - hitting that spot over and over.

“Shit, Toru- s’deep inside me. I’m- hngh-”

Satoru was in heaven, really. You were so warm and wet around both his fingers and his throbbing cock.

Only two thoughts running through his mind right now - 1. He was right, your hands were softer and more sinfully delicious around his swollen cock. And 2. The hardest battle he’s ever fought was probably right now - at your mercy, trying not to spill all over your hands because he’d be damned if he finally scored the girl and came in two seconds.

Shit, he thinks fingers almost erratic now, he needs you to cum. Right now.

As if sensing his urgency, your moves become more frantic, Satoru’s brows furrowing at the way you increase your pace. His hips twitch, as if trying to thrust into your fist. matching your pace as you start stroking him harder, faster.

Ah, but alas, the great Gojo Satoru’s reputation precedes him.

“Oh, fuck- M’gonna-” And soon enough, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - as you cum. Hard.

Body moving before your mind, you’re clenching around Satoru’s fingers, grinding down so ferally as you edge him closer and closer. “C’mon, Toru. One more, right?” you whisper brokenly, lips ghosting his ear.

Breath coming in short, strained gasps of what sounded like your name now, “Oh- fuck ngh- so close.” he warns, voice hoarse. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

You smirk, raising a brow, “Is that a threat, Satoru?”

Willing his fucked-out eyes open, they bore into yours as he utters, “No, ah- it’s a p-promise.”

Without warning, Satoru clasps your wrists, forcing you to stop pumping him. The disappointed mewl threatening to spill from your lips is cut off just as your back hits the ground.

Slam!

You think you could almost get whiplash from how swiftly Satoru had you caged and splayed out so shamefully beneath him.

You whine, “But you didn’t even get to-”

“Fuck, not now. Gotta feel you or else m’gonna cum so embarrassingly all over your fist.” He rests his throbbing erection laid out so enticingly across your stomach, leaking hot precum onto your skin. And that makes you shut up, eyes mapping where it ended and realizing that yeah, you might’ve faced more mercy with the curses outside of this box. “Besides. One more, right?”

And before you can respond, Satoru’s spitting on you once. Twice. Thrice.

You flinch as the wads of saliva hit your dripping cunt, mixing with your slick so obscenely as Satoru smears it across your swollen folds. Your mouth drops into a soft oh! of disbelief as he promptly pops his thumb into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

“Shit.” Satoru hisses lowly, “One more might just not be enough.”

Not wasting a moment longer, he’s bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your plush walls desperately try to accommodate his size.

“Oh. Oh shit hah- should’ve been locked up here ngh- sooner.” he groans, words straight from his cock. “Feel s’heavenly around m-me.” Because God Satoru thinks he wouldn’t even mind staying here for the rest of his life if it meant he got to have you like this.

You moan at the positively delicious stretch of your pussy, plush walls unable to decide between pushing him out and milking the soul out of him. “Hah- Toru s’too big. I can’t-”

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed as he focuses on letting you adjust. Pressing inch by fucking inch. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy till his tip kisses your cervix, and you’re drunk on nothing but his cock.

But he didn’t have to - because you’re immediately wrapping your legs around his toned waist, pulling Satoru to you recklessly until his heavy balls smack your ass. Tufts of snowy white hair - already so wet with your slick and his precum - finally meeting your cunt.

“Ah! Shit, s’full Toru.” you keen, body bowing into his.

There’s not even a hair's breadth between your bodies now as Satoru chuckles darkly. “You little minx. Thought you couldn’t handle me, but you really wanted to be split apart on my cock, huh?”

You feel almost shy under his gaze as you mumble out a quiet little, “Well you did say one more.”

Ah, Satoru thinks deliriously, if you aren’t Mrs. Gojo by the time you two get out of this then there’s seriously something wrong with him.

But he doesn’t tell you that. Instead with a satisfied smirk, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, sucking your tongue so lewdly as he did with your cunt. Parting for only a second before pressing his lips to yours again. And again. And again, as if it hurt to part.

“Mhm. Always wanted to do this, sweetheart.” he hums against your pretty lips. “Fuck ever since you hah- walked in on that first day.”

Kissing you sweetly with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as pulls back, back, back. All the way till his angry, hard tip was just grazing your sloppy entrance. “One more.”

Body moving before his mind, his hips start fucking into your dripping cunt recklessly. Satoru doesn’t fuck you with the finesse he imagined he would all these years, rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and all the desperation from these last few years.

In one, fluid movement, the burn of the stretch hits you before the realization that Satoru has thrown your legs over his sculpted shoulders.

“Ah- So good, Toru. Oh my god- hah-” you mewl at the change in angle. His pulsing dick expertly hitting that one spot inside you which has your words slurring together, body arching off the floor to press so impossibly close against him.

And, well, Satoru isn’t any better - because he’s slamming his cock into you mindlessly. Hitting that spot over and over.

With one hand, he caresses your stomach. Whispering out a ragged, “Feel me inside? Feel me right…” Pressing his palm down hard, “Here.”

The other forces you to look up at him, drinking in your whines of “Yes yes yes, can feel you s-so deep hngh- inside me, Toru.”

You’re so cockdrunk and full of Satoru that you barely notice the hands groping their way down your body. Catching harshly on your swollen clit, starting to draw, quick, frenzied circles that match the cadence of his hips smacking into yours.

“Look at me.” he murmurs raspily, “Open your mouth.”

And you can do nothing but take it, tongue lolling out so lewdly for the warm stream of spit that hits it. Once. Twice.

You look up at him with teary eyes, as you take it all - anything and everything he was giving. And it makes Satoru bow his head with a fucked-out groan, cock twitching so animalistically as it keeps plunging inside you roughly. Deft fingers on your clit becoming more desperate.

Harder. Faster. Balls squeezing so painfully. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up - and you were going to let thim.

You squeal at the overstimulation, hips bucking up for more more more-

“God, sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.” he moans, voice strained with desire and the euphoria of getting everything he’s wanted for so long. It was driving him insane. “Now c’mon. One more. Give me one more like my good girl.”

“Hngh- yes- Toru!”

You don’t even know what “one more” means anymore - all you do know is that you’re cumming and cumming all around Satoru’s unforgiving cock. Walls fluttering so snugly, your body convulses as you cream around his cock. Nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back, Satoru’s name leaving your bruised lips and into the heady air like a prayer every time his tip kisses your cervix. His new favorite melody.

And that seems to be what makes him snap as well - because with a final, sloppy thrust, he’s painting your walls such a sinful white. Pumping thick, hot ropes of his cum into your quivering cunt.

“Shit- yeah, my girl. Take it. Take it all f’me.” Satoru shudders above you, head thrown back, chest heaving as he fucks you through your high. Movements nothing more than shallow, mindless little thrusts to get you both off so animalistically.

It was so fucking filthy - and exactly what you needed so badly. He was exactly what you needed so badly.

Now, Satoru only had to take one look as you use him so obscenely for your pleasure - eyes dazed, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth - before he thinks he might just cum again. And again. And again until he physically couldn’t anymore.

But first…

Pulling out of your heavenly pussy with a lewd pop! His long fingers delicately collects the mixture of slick and cum now gushing out of you obscenely.

Aw, what a waste, Satoru muses as it pools below you sinfully. If it was up to him he wouldn’t waste a single drop from your pretty cunt.

But no matter.

Abruptly, Satoru bullies two fingers into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself, to taste him. Pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and gagging around him, teary eyes just begging up at him. Perfect - you were so perfect for him.

Kissing your forehead with a tenderness that doesn’t match his actions, he hums, faux innocence lacing his words, “What a shame, the box didn’t open yet.”

And oh does he love the excitement lighting up your exhausted eyes. Pretty thighs twitching underneath him as a slow, fucked-out little smile curls your lips.

“One more? Please?”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

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