#i still think gojo is alive

[whatsurnameblog]

We Have an Update on Nanami.

After days of no contact, someone finally texts you with an update on Nanami’s whereabouts.

"We have an update on Nanami."

As soon as the message popped up on your phone, you were out of the door.

You thanked the heavens for the fact that your home was in such an isolated part of Kyoto but you undoubtedly missed the sounds of the city that accompanied much of your childhood. Kento was always on the fence about that topic, though he preferred a bit of quiet. The man was almost more fond of silence than jujutsu, that’s where you two were similar.

Your inattentive and hurried steps slipped your keys out of your hand and onto the ground by the car door allowing you a glimpse of your frantic state in the side-view mirror. With your right hand, you combed through some of the flyaways and knots in your hair that you neglected to notice and gathered yourself together. The bags beneath your eyes taunted your youth and the lack of moisturizer on your face was shamefully obvious.

And you couldn’t afford to worry Kento. Only one of you could be worried and you certainly reserved the right.

While standing up straight, you opened the car door with a newfound facade of calm and slid into the driver’s side. Placing your bag in the passenger seat, you jumped as the door slammed shut without you having grabbed it yet. This car was one of the newer models Kento bought with money from some freelance job he did for the government, so without needing to insert an actual key, you took in a breath as you pressed the button to start the engine. As you gathered your seatbelt and clicked it in, you pulled off towards Jujutsu Tech.

You hummed a made-up song as you rolled the windows down a bit, November has never been this beautiful. The weather felt hopeful. A small smile graced your lips as you spotted little landmarks that told you, you were going the right way. You were a bit excited to see the school again and hoped to run into Shoko to slide her your late birthday gift.

But you also couldn’t help focusing on that little feeling bugging you.

The government has called for a national emergency after the city failed to bring back power and service to all the residents. People have evacuated their homes to avoid what the public deemed “mysterious deaths.” No one truly knows what killed all those people in Shibuya.

And Kento is missing. Was missing.

You had reached the final turn of your journey, Jujutsu Tech was just up ahead. The school didn’t really have parking due to an incident that happened decades ago, so you pulled up on the grass right in front of the first entrance.

With an impatient quickness, you made sure the car was turned off, you pressed some face moisturizer and chapstick to your face and lips, grabbed your bag and flung the door open. Your winter boots were fast on the pavement as you walked towards the main building of the school.

Today was a special day, one you waited days for.

That’s when you see it, the short head of hair with thick black glasses and a woman in a lab coat speaking passionately about things you could only theorize.

“Masamichi, Ieiri!” you shouted but when neither moved you began to pick up the pace in your walk.”HEY SHOKO, YAGA, I’m here!”

Both sets of eyes turned to you in shock, it was obvious neither expected your arrival, especially because it seemed that both were leaving.

You relaxed as you joined them, the sweat on your body drying up with the cold air and just like a little girl, your inner game of i-spy got the best of you.

“What’s with all the boxes?” you questioned with a quirk of your brow. “And the handwriting I’m guessing is Masamichi’s?”

He looked between you and Ieiri with a knowing look and sighed, “Yes, it’s mine, I’m just boxing some stuff up to put in storage before heading off to Tokyo for a while.”

“Ah ok,” you smiled. “It has been a hard few weeks– months even, hasn’t it?”

“It truly has,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “Oh man, how about a hug before I’m off, huh?”

“It’s just Tokyo!” you comment.

“Oh just humor me, I’m getting old!” Yaga laughed and held his arms out expectantly.

“That you are.” Shoko sassed before dragging you into a brief group hug.

How unusual. You thought.

“Alright, you girls take care yeah? See you when I see you!” And with that, he and his boxes were off with a whistle.

The air was gentle in its movement and the silence the two of you stood in was antagonizing. Your fist was sweaty as you clenched it and your lips dried quickly in the late Autumn air. Your gaze wandered to Shoko as she looked out at Jujutsu Tech. So many memories and so few people to share them with.

“Let’s go inside, we can order something for everyone, what do you think?”

“Why are you here?” Shoko questioned you flatly.

“W-what?” You turned to her, confusion on your face. “You texted, said you had an update on Nanami so…”

“So I was going to come to the house.” She explained. Her face held some of its usual calmness but her eyes turned up with distress.

“Your attitude is unnerving at the moment, Ieiri.”

“Mine?” Her eyes widened. “Did you think logically at all while coming here?”

Her face was balled up in disbelief. She stepped back to take a look at you before composing herself. You on the other hand could not be more offended and frustrated.

“Think logically?! Shoko, what's your problem? I just came to see Kento.”

This is the first time you’ve seen the woman so distraught. Her eyes were teary and her hair stuck to her face as she clenched the strap of her bag, “I know you’re not dumb per se, you knew that when you walked up to me I wasn’t expecting you to come and even in the time we’ve stood here, I have not taken you to Nanami,” she took in a breath as she says your name. “I was on my way to yours.”

Her annoyance with you wasn’t pure, that much you could tell but you found yourself clueless as to why she was taking this tone with you. Instead of jumping on your friend and possibly having a huge argument when it’s evident that you both have been going through such a tough time, you opt for silence as you think about the past couple of days up to now.

“Did you even look at the rest of your texts?” she sighed. “Where’s your phone?”

Your hands were sloppy in going to grab it from your bag and five minutes into your search, you realized it wasn’t there. And while checking your pockets the image of you leaving it on your coffee table flashed strongly in your mind.

“I don’t… have it…”

“Figures…” Shoko tutted. “I texted that I’d meet you at your place because well… you know why.”

Her eyes were sharp and stern, like that of a mother reminding a child of the rules. And after wracking your brain for any possible answer, you concluded that you do. You know exactly why Shoko didn’t rush to take you to Kento. You know why he hasn’t at least texted or called, why he hasn’t tried to contact you at all. You know he went to Shibuya that night to watch out for Yuji, you know. You know why he isn’t in front of you right now. You just refused to admit it.

“Shoko…” you shook your head with wide eyes as your hand laid on the place between your chest and the base of your neck.

He couldn’t be. No not when you feel so much hope, it’s impossible. You and Kento are connected, your souls so intertwined you’d both joked about being lovers in past lives. You two are so close that you can decipher his emotions by reading the lines on his face, the slight movement of his lips, the change in his posture… you can even feel him when he’s not there. And you felt him, all these days you’ve felt him, at least you think you did.

“Everyone… they’re all… Satoru isn’t but he’s- I don’t,” she trails off as tears silently cascade down her face. “And they said Suguru was there but he- he wasn’t him.”

“Shoko, please tell the truth…”

There was a whiplash of emotion. You felt way too hot and way too cold. Everything around you moved all too fast and all too slow. A pint of nausea crept into your gut, the only reason it results in nothing is due to the lack of food and energy you failed to have while Kento was away. You were in agony, the feeling of horror and disbelief crawling into a hole so deep inside you it already began to rot.

“I’ve never even felt this way before, I usually feel so calm, not empty just a bit unbothered but this time, this time I feel so much, too much.”

“Oh, Shoko.” You joined her in her emotions, your knees weak, melting under distress, you fumbled to the stairs beside her. Your cough was girthy and your mouth furrowed with your eyebrows, you pleaded with her. “Oh, I- I… I’m sorry I just-, please say the truth.”

She slightly bends forward at your misstep to make sure that you’re okay and once she gets that overcompensating nod, she straightens up with despair almost permanently etched into her face. “He’s gone… Kento is gone, dead…and I’m so sorry,” she choked.

“Oh, w-what am I going to do? I can’t-… how am I supposed to live Shoko? Tell me, tell me Shoko how?!.” You retch, chest erratic as you struggle for air. You clutch your stomach as thick tears roll down your chin.”This hurts…so much.”

For the third time today, you were reminded of your childhood as you cried and hugged your legs on the steps of Jujutsu Tech. Shoko watched as you broke down and she couldn’t contain her composure as her bag fell from her arm and her hands searched to embrace you. Your sorrow was too great to suppress, so you gave up on fighting it.

Nanami, the man whom you named the love of all your lives, was gone, really gone in every sense of the word and there was nothing anyone could do to bring him back. You were sure you still felt him, and now you see that it was only your heart deceiving your mind.

Everything switched at the realization, causing pain and grief to strike your body in constant waves, and every sound, every figure, even the gushing of the wind, was blurred and muffled. You looked to Shoko, watching as her mouth trembled and stumbled on the words detailing all she tried to do to save him, but life was already too far gone. To try and save Kento Nanami would be like grabbing for air.

You were inconsolable, so much so that your emotions had spilled you from Shoko’s arms and placed you on the ground, bowing before your heartache at her feet.

Your home was no longer ours.

Your love was no longer shared.

You were empty, the only thing in you left was nothing at all. You might as well be dead too

© whatsurnameblog 2024, do not copy or repost anywhere

[planetsandmagic]

"choose your words wisely"

[dyaz-stories]

i'm actually going to be so upset if we don't see anyone mourning gojo

like so far we haven't seen anyone care? we haven't seen anyone be even a little sad or grateful for his death. what do you mean he wrote them letters and nobara went 'yuck' and megumi said 'let's get this over with' i'm losing my fucking mind

like if a character that's this important disappears from your story you can't just. sweep it under the rug. like when jiraiya and ace die we saw everyone grieving their loss because they mattered to people.

doesn't gojo deserve that too?

[tariah23]

So sugar baby Gojo is canon btw

[philosophiums]

truly i have been eating all of the theories/ideas lately about itfs cursing each other in some way shape or form at the end of the manga. i love twisted love stories i love a bittersweet ending i love living through the tragedy by enacting violence upon yourself and your loved ones OUGH it's so good

megumi whose main goals this entire series have been centered around yuuji. yuuji who is possibly already acting under the (beginning?) effects of a curse that megumi put on him ("start by saving me" - could also argue that "you've got it from here" isn't helping either kjsdbvjkdfb). megumi who watched yuuji die once and who refuses to see it happen again. yuuji who has witnessed up close everyone dear to him die and cannot lose megumi too....

just... the fighting and clawing and tearing at themselves and each other - desperate to stay together no matter what, even if it leaves them scarred and broken on the other side. because wounds can heal and they can fight to realign themselves with each other and the world, but none of it means anything if they're not alive and together

[jubburb]

SatoSuguᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

Looking at the stars ✮

(Lives/afterlives)

From time to time, although not that often, Satoru and Suguru would go stargazing. They're too busy living out the best of their ( ), just being in each other's presence.

It's been far too long since they had this much peace, considering they were on opposing sides. But now, they finally have what they wanted, what they needed the most.

"It was lonely. You know that, right Suguru?"

"You gave me too much free will Satoru, of course I know. But I won't say I regretted my actions, knowing fully well it's too late."

He stated, looking at the stars.

"Don't blame yourself Satoru."

The time they spent talking, Gojo was looking at Geto, his eyes full of pain, regret, and guilt.

He turned to the sky, the comets and stars shimmering. The moon was especially pretty today.

"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

Gojo smiles, knowing Suguru knew what he meant.

"It truly is beautiful.."

...

"Me too."

He finally looked at him in the eye.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.── .✦

✮⋆˙You can fill in the blanks with lives/afterlives. This is leaning towards more where they are already dead, living in the afterlife. But if you want to read it as if they are still alive, then go for it.

-Jღ

The ways in which you talk to me, "sugudu" have me wishing I were gone, "SAT OR OOO" - C's shenanigans..

[torgawl]

everytime i think about the new chapter the more and more i like it, it really consolidated yuuta and gojo's characters. the revelation of how the higher-ups were taken down and the set-up for the scene with gojo and yuuta's conversation about what their plan was for gojo's body, in case he lost, might just be the part i find most interesting. all in all, the chapter really highlights the underlying difference between the violence of oppression and the violence of resistence and revolution.

when it comes to yuuta and the archetype of his character he is the pure embodiment of love in the series. if yuuji is able to reach sukuna because he was one with him (love as oneness), yuuta's entire exitence has sorrounded love and, specifically, love as a curse. sukuna's surprise at yuuta's antics come from a place of not understanding love and therefore being unable to conceptualise that yuuta would go so far as betray his own humanity for it. he can't conceive how love can drive a person like yuuta, who's sweet and kind-hearted, to a place as cursed as this - emphasised by the sheer horror and heinosity that is seeing the usage of gojo's dead body with yuuta's innocent expression. but we know that yuuta's journey has always been marked by this concept of love as a curse, starting all the way back in jjk 0 where yuuta's unwillingness to let go of a deceased rika caused her to linger in the world in the form of a cursed spirit. one that yuuta learns to let go of by the end of the story. a lot of what he learns in that moment is about consent and mutuality in love (hence his domain expansion name), and although rika's soul passes and gets freed she is able to manifest her will into her vessel that continues to protect yuuta until this day. yuuta asking gojo for consent to use his body not only consolidates this mutual exchange and respect that he has for those he cares for - which are his main driving force - but is also exactly what separates him from someone like kenjaku, who body hops with total disregard for who they were originally. so there's that layer of irony behind yuuta having rika consume kenjaku to copy his technique and make use of it in a equally disturbing but more compassionate way. which in itself can serve to both question if intent plays a role in absolution and introduce, once again, the idea that humans and curses are not so different, as explored between mahito and yuuji in shibuya with them mirroring each other.

in regards to gojo i think his aknowledgement of his own inertia when it came to the revolution that he was leading was the cherry on top to consolidate who gojo really was as a person. gojo's greatest character flaw was arguably that he simply wasn't radical enough, allowing his students to be targets under the influence of the higher-ups. he had reasons not to kill them, as he explained before in the series, but he still failed to weight the consequences of his own actions and how no one is rewarded by working under a broken system. and i feel like having the youth he guided watching as he killed them is also quite significant as they're followers of this new revolutionary ideology.

i think the shock or impact these violent or twisted acts by the hands of those forced to survive within the status quo (like maki slaughtering her clan, gojo killing the higher-ups, yuuta taking over gojo's body) as a reaction to the violence they're subjeted to by this same system serves some purpose. and i think this is the reason the higher-ups are these anonymous faceless figures, barely-there personalities who have such a big influence in the lives of so many people. even in the real world, and we can think of systems like capitalism and how it exploits people in such a casual way and it relies on that exploration to survive, we sort of take for granted that violence coming from those institutions, having our attention driven away from the minority that's upholding these systems to other things instead. that violence is more "acceptable" because we've been conditioned to it whereas the violence in response to those acts is always met with more scrutiny. and that kind of contextualises why shoko and nanami, for example, much like gojo, aren't really revolutionary with their ideals either - or rather, do not get that priviledge. the difference being gojo was someone these higher-ups were actively afraid of, because if he wanted to, he could have done more. and that's exactly why the instant he was sealed it was the perfect opportunity for them to do whatever they could to prevent him from coming back and place new-drawn targets on the backs of the people gojo was protecting. the gruesome nature of maki slaughtering her clan or the off-putting way people react to yuuta discarding his own humanity and going against what he believes is right to make sure gojo's legacy continues is almost forcing this question of what are people willing to stomach in the name of survival and change.

gojo remembering geto in that crucial moment ("i was falling behind" or "i have to catch up") and just having in mind how they were both so young and naive is so incredibly bittersweet. geto had radical ideals, no matter how misguided. he looked at the world and he had this unshakeable conviction that things couldn't continue to be the way they were. he reached incredibly misplaced conclusions, yes, which came from a place of great pain and alienation, but gojo finally stepping forward to follow that same path, to be more radical, also sort of confirms that things could have been so different if only gojo had the same level of consciousness back then; that they could have found a way better solution together instead of the tragedy that ensued. the parallels between them add an extra layer of wistfulness to their bond, too. their fates have and always will be so intertwined, in such a beautiful and tragic way. and i think geto's unwillingness to force gojo to take a certain path will always be one of the biggest proofs of his love towards him. at the end of the day, even knowing gojo was who he was, geto always seemed to want to protect gojo's path from being stained like his.

at the core, jjk really is a story about revolution and humanity; a story about love and curses and how love is the most twisted curse of all (which has been reinforced over and over again). the fact some are rewarded and some are punished for taking certain paths under the same system is there to convey a very specific message. i really love the incorporation of eastern philosophies within the story and the role horror plays, too. the usage of the genre to deepen the impact of these themes and the way things are introduced with the intention to provoke almost visceral reactions in the readers (much like yuuta's own reaction) also makes the message much more impactful. i think this chapter was great!!!

[osaemu]

new bsd chapter in a little over a week !!!

[chaot1c0]

RIKO AMANAI JJK s2

I miss her sm :(

she was such a vibe tbh

[nerosdayinanime]

jjk & kny self inserts - icarus is all the way back from feb last year (i made him & aether but then giyuu consumed my soul and i havent touched them Since...) and i just made kuro today

[whatsurnameblog]

Satoru’s Mother’s Day Gift.

It's Mother's Day, Satoru just has to make it sentimental, but he'll need a lot of love and help from his only ally.

Giving a gift in the Gojo clan was intimidating. 

They already had everything they wanted.

But Satoru Gojo was always up for a challenge and even though he may not pull it together on time, he was determined to give his mother the best gift ever.

“C’mon Aguri you’ve gotta help me or I’ll die!” the boy whined as he tugged the older girl’s arm.

She was exhausted and the young sorcerer was more than two hands full. Sometimes, she wished to have had a twin to consume in the womb like the great king of curses. Alas, she was simply just the lonely fifth child of a lowly Gojo clan concubine. Something nobody ever brought up, not to spare the girl but because it was such old gossip it became boring to even acknowledge her existence. Satoru, at his young age, had always felt bad for Aguri.

“Satoru, your father would kill me if he even saw you with an empty measuring cup in your hand,” Aguri rolled her eyes and shrugged the young boy off.

“If you don’t teach me how to cook…” he thinks, sometimes of the dumbest things ever. “ I will tell my father you called me Satoru and not ‘Young Master Gojo’” The boy smiles menacingly before wiggling his brows.

“You traitor, you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, but I would Aguri, I definitely would,” he laughs at Aguri’s appalled expression. 

“You’re such a brat Satoru,” her mood lightens. “What’s this for anyway?”

“It’s for Mama,” the boy says simply as he looks at the trail ahead of him.

The two had gone for a walk to the river just before the boy wanted to play, Satoru always found himself enamored by the motion of the water and the small fish that inhabited it. He loved to watch the rice fish scatter when he threw a stone into the water. In moments like this, the adults realized that Satoru was still a child, something the elders hated to admit.

“Fine, I’ll help you,” the young woman finally gave in. “How about we pick some flowers for her too? Make a bouquet and a drawing for her to hold close. What do you think, Satoru?”

Aguri watched his face as the gears turned in his head. He glanced at her, his body full of uncertainty and nervousness. Would those really be good gifts for mama? He thought, and a puddle of nausea pulled at the bottom of his stomach. The boy was always unsure, never ready, mouth always stumbling when asked a question, fingers fiddling when in training, feet shifting during tests. Satoru wished he could fly under the radar, he desired to be placed in the back, something that would never be fulfilled. 

“Y-yeah? That would be cool,” the boy blushed as he pushed forward on the way back home.

“What sort of answer is that? Are you being honest, Satoru?” she stopped in her tracks, waiting for him to answer.

Satoru noticed the loss of footsteps behind him, his six eyes tingling uncontrollably at the lack of company. The boy always tried his best to use it on their hikes. He turned around, blue eyes downturned in thought.

“Mama makes me nervous sometimes. I was just going to eat with her a-and you, and just go to training or something. I wouldn’t know what to say if I gave her those things,” the boy fidgeted with the strap of his satchel. His eyes searched the ground for nothing in particular, making the woman crouch down to him.

“You know you don’t have to say anything at all if you wanted, she’ll be happy just sitting in silence with you,” Aguri smiles.

“No,” he suddenly protested. “I want her to know I love her so… I trust you, let’s pick some flowers an-and get some tools for drawing and…” the boy goes on and on as he skips toward the Gojo estate. Aguri simply giggles and encourages his excitement. They picked random colorful flowers along the path and placed them in the boy’s satchel. The two took advantage of the freedom and playfulness they had alone before being back home. They were more like siblings than the siblings they had.

The duo glanced at each other as they reached the garden entrance to the estate, they straightened out their appearance, posture stiffening in the name of sophistication. The Gojo clan was big on looks, although they valued power way more.

They walked toward the mansion smoothly, the cool air from the river slipping from their skin and clothes and into the wind. It isn’t long before they meet the entrance to the home.

“Okay, young master Gojo, many of the elders and fighters have a meeting with the Kamo and Zenin clans today, so they are away from the mansion. That means we have until sundown to prepare your gifts,” They both walk to Satoru’s quarters swiftly.

“Will that be enough time?”

“We’ll make it enough,” Aguri winks before returning to her calm demeanor. “You need to worry about washing up, something I am sure you can do yourself, and then meet me in the kitchen. You remember where it is, right?”

“Yup-“ Satoru stutters as he fixes himself when a man walks by. “Yes, Miss Aguri,” he bows before the woman and takes off into his bedroom.

As the woman skids off to prepare the kitchen, Satoru gets ready for a bath. He takes off his satchel and gathers the flowers from their trip to place them on his desk. The sun shined bright through the window and fortunately for the young boy, he had a vase hidden behind a stack of blankets near the wall. He was quick to fill the vase with water from the tub in his en suite bathroom and careful to place it on his desk so he wouldn’t slip later that night for a bathroom break from his sleep, not that that’s happened before.

He placed the flowers in the vase beautifully, Satoru had an eye for decoration, if he wasn’t a Gojo maybe he’d be something creative like a painter. Remembering that he left the faucet running, he quickly prepared himself to jump in and as he thought of what to draw for his mom, he nibbled at his bottom lip, stomach full of nervousness.

In the kitchen, Aguri was fast with her movements and grateful for the absence of staff. She quietly gathered the ingredients for Satoru and his mom’s favorite meal, something she had learned years ago from the previous caretaker.

Working for the Gojo clan wasn’t easy. When she first came to the main house as a teen she was bitter toward the conditions her cousin —six times removed—was living in. She always resented the family, but his wife, her aunt, was a sweet lady from the Kamo clan, a daughter they could do without, and, Satoru was just a child. She couldn’t even force herself to hate him. So, instead, she just did what she was told, with no feelings attached. Until she witnessed the nasty abuse the boy and his mother received, and that’s when the girl decided she’d always be on their side. And she promised Satoru’s mom that she’d always be there for him.

“Aguri? Are you here?” The boy whispers as he enters the kitchen in his usual white attire.

“Yes, Satoru, everyone is gone!” The young woman whispers back and smiles at the way his head pops out from the wall. “I’ve already gathered everything, okay? Just pass me the ingredients as we go, and you’ll learn just how she likes it! This is exciting.”

Satoru nods as he comes closer. The young sorcerer was tall the only thing out of his reach was anything farther than the third shelf, so he watched Aguri carefully and without struggle. 

The woman was practiced in her movements, unsurprisingly, and she knew the recipe by heart by now. She instructed Satoru professionally as if she were the head chef of an upscale restaurant, something that would seemingly always stay a dream. 

“You’re so cool, Aguri. I wish I could cook,” Satoru hmph’d as he passed her some pre-diced vegetables.

“Thanks ‘Toru,” there was that nickname that made the boy blush. Aguri was important to him, she was more family than his father and siblings and he enjoyed when they could be this comfortable. “Your mama’s going to love this gift, but I think she loves anything you do.”

“I don’t know ‘Guri, she’s usually so picky,” he pouts and backs away from the sizzling pot. 

“No, trust me, she’s going to love it,” Aguri smiled at him and quickly moved on to the next big pot. It would take her some time to make three portions of the meal, but it was worth it.

The two Gojo’s fall into a comfortable silence with the occasional childish back and forth. Neither can help themselves in the stillness of the house. There’s no one here, most of the staff are in their quarters by now. It was the best time for this they both concluded. Just being together without the watchful and strict eyes of the elders was freeing. Although it wasn’t unusual for Aguri to be here around this time as a caretaker, she was always on the clock.

Aguri’s living quarters were also relatively close to Satoru’s which is how they got so close. Late-night snacks and a few sneaky card games were enough to get a seven-year-old Satoru to warm up to the girl who was simply six years his senior. Like every child he was impressionable, and Aguri was honored to be the “good influence.” 

But Satoru was also a good child, a little bit of a rascal, but he was obedient, not that he had much of a choice. Going against the rules meant punishment for the whole clan. A fact only spoken of in letters between Aguri and one of her siblings, something kept sandwiched between time away from the boy's eyes. Now that Satoru was entering his preteen years, as his thirteenth birthday would be in early December, the topic hadn’t graced the pages of a paper since just as the letters slowly stopped coming.

“That smells so good,” Satoru squeals. “You’re right, mama’s gonna be so happy! Can I tell her I made it?”

“Of course you can,” she gestures for him to come closer. “How about you mix the sauce a little, and we can finish up.”

Satoru smiles and nods eagerly before stepping in front of the stove. Aguri observes him cautiously, not wanting him to hurt himself. She helps him mix it evenly and hums when it's consistent with the meal's expectations.

“Alright, let’s plate the food.”

“Will you eat with us?”

“Do you want me to? I made enough for three,” Aguri smiles.

“Then you’ll eat with us,” Satoru decides.

She instructs him to grab the three plates she had already placed on a counter across the room. She turns everything on the stovetop down and grabs another pair of gloves just in case. Satoru quietly helps her plate the food into three dishes while she turns everything off and cleans up, and when they’re finished, she grabs a tray and a familiar-looking container she had set out earlier to cool. 

“Drinks in the fridge ‘Toru!” he nods and runs to retrieve them.

Aguri sets everything on the tray and waits for Satoru to come bobbling back. He tugged his lip frustratedly, the only options always being water or alcohol and he could only have one. It’s unfortunate that Aguri didn’t make tea but Satoru wasn’t bothered and simply grabbed three water bottles. He slowly closes the refrigerator when he hears Aguri call for him and quickens his movements to rush back to her.

They silently walk towards Satoru’s mother’s quarters, the boy bumbling with anxiety and eagerness. He stops just at the large brown doors before looking back at the girl. 

“It’s okay, you can do it c’mon, open the door, and I’ll go first,” Aguri speaks softly, her voice full of care and warmth and Satoru nods and follows her directions.

Aguri enters the room first, the change in air chafing her skin as she sets the tray on a table near the wall. 

“Come on ‘Toru, don’t leave us waiting,” she calls out as she smiles at his mother. She places the plates around the square table right next to the bed, one chair adjacent to the head and the other adjacent to the foot while a third faces it. Aguri opens the small container quietly, listening for Satoru’s entrance.

His feet were soft and nervous on the ground as he walked in. He gulped as his eyes set on his mother in all her beauty, her face was full of color today, and she looked like she was sleeping more than dying. The beeping machine tracking her heartbeat, among other things, was taunting. Satoru hated the sound, but he loved his mom, so he could bear it. And he would, as long as she was still here, and even though Satoru had lost hope over the last couple of months, she was still here, and he’d be right next to her for as long as she stayed.

To Aguri, Satoru was still a young child, and to his mother, he would always be her baby. Satoru couldn’t disprove either of those things. At this moment, he felt like both. He felt so small.

He walked towards her bed, the vase of flowers he acquired on the way to her room now placed on a table near the door and a quick drawing of a water iris with a short poem etched into the left side of the paper under his arm.

A spoonful of your love is enough for me to live through infinite lifetimes.

A hug,

A kiss,

A laugh,

A tear,

A smile,

A sigh…

As simple as it seems, it’s enough.

“Happy Mother’s Day, mama,” the boy smiles, tears gathering in his eyes as Aguri holds out her arms to embrace him, a gesture he easily recognizes.

And as they all enjoyed this moment together, they never thought of a future where a love like this didn’t exist. But if they had, maybe they would have been better prepared.

If you're reading this, I hope you've enjoyed it, and thank you for reading.

© whatsurnameblog 2024, do not copy or repost anywhere

[enkvyu]

I send that before ı saw sukuna turning back to his og body ı lost all of my hopes everyone will die next chp

THE BOL I JUSTED everyone will die next ch 😭

lowkey curious to see where jjk will even go from here bc who do we even have left to root for ?? yuuji is probs gonna b the final girl but i mean ?? his found family is nowhere to be Found i just don’t know where we’re going anymore will we even reach a conclusion that the fandom will find satisfying ?? when all the main chars that ppl were rooting for are Gone ??

[mangobubletea]

canon isn't real if i don't look at it *starts ugly crying*

[tonycries]

The Heir - G.S.

Synopsis. No, your clan leader husband won’t stop until he gives you an heir. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, established relationship, he’s cray-cray (for you), bréeding - like a LOT, oral (fem receiving), unprotected, creampíe, marathon, séx, running from it, use of “my wife”, overstim, FÉRAL Satoru, absolutely heinous, mentions of kníves and bIood, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.3k

A/N. Guess what ya girlie is back with clan leader Gojo hehe.

An heir to the Gojo clan - no matter how small, how weak - could eradicate all three of the big clans before even being born. Much like their father. 

You knew that. Satoru knew that. And, unfortunately for him, so did the stuck-up old toad currently sputtering across from him. 

“I am not asking for permission.” Satoru smiles, deathly calm. “Simply that everyone vacates the Estate. After all, what the madam wants, the madam shall get.”

“But- but young master! It’s madness- An heir can tip the scales of power like never before!” The elder lunges frantically over the meeting room table. “I cannot allow- a-and considering the madam’s lowly lineage-”

Schwing!

They say that the infamous young head of the Gojo clan has a katana as hauntingly beautiful as he is - a blade of pure white, with a sapphire hilt. Though, there wasn’t anyone left to tell the tale - and Satoru wasn’t about to let that change anytime soon. 

The long, deceptively delicate sword glints sharply against Satoru’s humorless grin, and those cold, cold eyes. Unblinking - crazed, as he hums, “What did you say about my wife?”

The man in front of him can do nothing but yelp in fear, “I- it could- the scale of ah-”

“No.” The freezing cold blade presses deeper against skin. And Satoru’s tutting, “Try again.”

“Th-the madam!” Pathetic tears stain those expensive tatami mats below, every shred of previous ego wiped away as the elder’s forced to echo his words. “It is no lie that her b-background is…unsuitable-”

Oh this was why Satoru hated these meetings - and for once in his life he’d been the one to summon it instead of being forced to attend. What a joke. If only this elder had agreed to vacate everyone in the Estate like he’d wanted, then none of this would’ve happened. Seriously, how hard was it to get some alone time with you? 

Satoru sighs, blue yukata rustling as he grips the hilt tighter. “Do you know why you’re here, advisor? Why any of you little council of elders are still here?” And he doesn’t wait for an answer - couldn’t care less about it anyway. Plowing on in that same sweet, dangerous tone - as if scolding a stubborn child, “My lovely wife is kind, you see. Too kind. Doesn’t like for me to get my hands dirty.”

He lets his arm retract slightly, as if giving up on the conversation topic at hand. And oh for all his wisdom, the elder should’ve known better than to let the silence lull into one of safety. Should’ve known better than to let out a breath of relief. Relaxing - ever-so-slightly, to be stupid enough to mutter, “S-see young master. I told- you-”

Because this was Gojo Satoru, and he’s chuckling - and that was never a good sign for anyone but you. “She’d make such a perfect mother, don’t you think?”

---

SLAM!

You startle - there was only ever one person that dared to kick open the doors of the Gojo Estate that way, like he was out for blood.

Eyes tearing from your window towards the now-splintered doorway and-

Oh. Oh shit. 

Your voice dies in your throat as the metallic tang of blood hits your nose - followed very shortly by the realization that this was your husband. Towering figure leaning against the frame, gaze frantic - bouncing off everywhere but you, fingers twitching on the stained handle of his katana, looking for all the world like he’d seen a ghost. 

What the fuck happened?

“Satoru?” you breathe. And the sound of your voice his eyes finally snap to you - widening, like he’d finally noticed your figure standing there. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. Stepping forward in concern, “Are you o-”

You’ve barely made it two steps before Satoru’s closing the distance in a split-second, dropping to his knees before you with a harsh thump!

You wince at the sound, but if it hurt then he doesn’t show it. Anything but - in fact, looking more blissed out than you’ve ever seen him as he lets his prized katana clatter to the floor, looping two powerful arms around your waist.

And it’s times like this - when he nuzzles his cheek against your stomach, sighing in contentment - that you forget about those blossoming stains of red on his yukata. None of his, you bet. 

Threading your fingers through his soft hair, you repeat, “Are you okay, Toru?”

And oh. 

Oh, it only takes those words - and your sweet sweet voice - before Satoru’s entire body jolts. Taking a sharp inhale, fingers trembling as they clutch onto the fabric of your yukata. “An heir.” Words strained, ragged. Some deep, visceral part of himself peaking up at you through those hazy, half-lidded eyes, “Would you give me an heir, my wife?”

You weren’t making it out alive. 

You’re gasping - partially because of his words, partially because that’s all it takes for him to yank you down. Sprawling you out like such a slut on the floor. “Wha- an heir?”

It’s not something you expected him to even consider - that sleepy, quiet little pillowtalk from earlier today where you’d mindlessly wondered out loud whether your husband was ready for kids. Hell, Satoru was never a morning person, so you didn’t expect him to even have heard the question let alone this. 

Nosing at your racing pulse, whispering, “An heir. You think I’d ever deny you, pretty?” Like he couldn’t believe it himself - sharp canines nipping at your neck, “My heir.”

It’s like it was the only thing he could say - could even think about right now as his lips burned a path down your jaw, into the valley of your breasts. Muffled, “N’ now we have the Estate all to ourselves, so I can ruin you as much as I hah- want.”

And for the second time today, you’re actually registering that this wasn’t the same yukata your husband had kissed senseless in before the meeting. Or, at least, those patches of red were new.

“Satoru…” You pull his face back.

“No- no no please- Come back-” you squeal when he just drags you across the floor by the hips, pressing you up against that massive bulge, back to sloppily kissing the underside of your jaw. “Was jus’ one I swear- m’sorry about gettin’ the fabric dirty.”

“Satoru.”

“Wasn’t gonna break you where everyone could hear right?” 

And fuck he doesn’t wait to hear a response, no - it’s been far too long, and every little scold from you has all the blood in Satoru’s body rushing to his aching cock. His lips are crashing onto yours, so desperate and needy. 

“Sa-toru!” you manage to squeal through the way he sips at your candied lips. Letting out pained, breathless little grunts like each swipe of his tongue against your mouth was driving him insane. 

“Shhh shhh, m’here m’here.” he pants into your open mouth, hands wandering everywhere. Cupping your ass, your breasts, nudging open your jaw to let him suck so filthily on your tongue. “Fuck- m’here.” He’s licking up the drool pooling at the corner of your mouth already, “N’ m’gonna ruin-” One hand makes its way to palm your clothed cunt, “-her.”

But, alas, no matter how many times Satoru’s done this before - it never gets any easier, or as less heavenly of a sight for him. 

With you all disheveled and splayed out for him, your tits almost spilling out of your yukata with the way his hands have been so greedy. So thoughtless. 

Satoru groans, dipping his head forward to peck messily at your lips. “Mmm- ” Pulling back just enough to mutter, “Gonna let me breed this pretty cunt, hm?” 

It’s all you can do to give him a half-delirious little nod of agreement, lower lip wobbling at just how hungrily he was looking at you. Eyes wide, lips curling into a crazed smile, fingers trembling with anticipation as he deftly works on untying your robe. 

“Is my wife gonna give me a pretty baby?” He gasps out, strangled. “An heir?” He presses a sloppy peck to your glossy lips, strings of spit snapping when he breaks apart to whisper. “One to take out all these dumb fucks?” Again, so dizzyingly. And again. “Oh how I’d love to see their fuckin’ faces.” And again and again and again. Kisses punctuated by that little mantra - “An heir. My heir. I need you to give me a baby, pretty.”

And then your yukata’s being pulled down your shoulders, the expensive fabric ripping down the side with the way he was so ravenous. Goosebumps prickling down your skin as fast as Satoru can get his hands on every inch of you.

“Oh, look at you.” his jaw falls slack, palms kneading at your soft breasts. “Fuck- the mother of my kids.” He rolls his thumb over your hardened nipples, rubbing lazy little circles, “I need to- fuck!” 

Before you know it he’s pinning your arching body down onto the floor. One hand easily pinning down both of yours, the other angling your lips back onto his, a knee wedged between your damp thighs. 

You whine at the feeling of Satoru’s thigh rubbing up against your drenched panties.

But he could barely hear - fuck, you didn’t even know if Satoru was breathing with the way he wraps his pretty pink lips around one of your pert nipples. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, cheeks hollowing as he sucks - harsh.

“Need to fill these up- s’gonna be so sweet. So full.” he’s blabbering into your tits, tongue rolling around your sensitive nipples. Incessant, like he was somehow trying to draw out milk. “I can only hope they hah- share, right?”

You buck your hips up, mewling as your throbbing clit catches on the dips and curves of the muscles on Satoru’s leg. “P-please, Toru. Don’t tease.”

And oh, when has he ever denied you? Hell, Satoru would burn down this entire world and himself if it meant giving his wife anything and everything. Especially the future mother of his kids. 

With a final, playful bite, you watch with glassy eyes at the way he dances his lips down. Slow. Teasing. Eyes locked with you all the while like some sort of predator cornering his prey. 

“And this-” Satoru stops halfway down, pressing a deep, sultry kiss onto your bare stomach, “Oh this. Gonna be so round n’ pretty. Absolutely glowing f’me, right? Fuck!” 

Snapping his head down at the feeling of your grinding your hips so sluttily onto his legs, slick seeping through your panties and onto his skin. 

“Oh.” he sighs, awe-struck. More to himself than you at this point, “You can kill me if you’re not with my heir by the time we’re done, pretty.”

A promise.

And with it went whatever was left of Satoru’s poor sanity - and whatever pathetic chance there was of you making it out of this alive. 

Immediately, Satoru fists your flimsy panties in his grasp. So see-through they were practically useless anyway. Reveling in your panicked little gaze as he pulls - rips them clean off your dripping cunt. 

“Oh god- There we go.” he moans, hooking two arms underneath your legs and pushing up, up, up - all the way until your knees were pressing up against your tits. Your lips wobble when Satoru takes the time to admire your pussy, breaths coming out in feverish little puffs to watch the way you glisten and clench at nothing. Licking his lips - salivating even - at the sight of your slick beading through your puffy folds. He runs a thumb along your sopping wet slit, “Better wish her good luck tonight.”

And, usually, your husband was refined - he teased and toyed with your poor cunt until you were begging to have an ounce of friction. But right now, it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash with how fast he’s pushing his face into your pussy.

“Mm-” Satoru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his tongue laps at your dripping wet cunt. Tipping his head back, back, back to let your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. “Fuck that. Even luck won’t save you from me- hah-”

“Toru!” you arch off the cool floor as he cards the tip of his tongue between your puffy folds. From the base of your sloppy entrance, all the way up to your throbbing clit. “Hngh- s’too-”

He was going too fast too soon. 

You whine at the palm pushing your unstable hips flat onto the ground, holding you still while Satoru licks all over as he pleases. “Now now, how are ya gonna ngh- fuck so sweet- handle later if ya can’t even handle this, pretty?”

Sucking on your clit in such a messy, open-mouthed kiss. “Fuck. Shouldn’t have told me about an heir.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Harsh - rolling his tongue against the sensitive nub in a way he knows will have you crying out so prettily. “Fuuuck you shouldn’t h- oh- Ohhh, look at you, my wife.”, breathing in deep, ragged gasps of air only to go deeper. “Fuck- just look at you. You’re so wet I could fuck you just like this.”

As if to prove his point, he’s urgently bullying the tip of his tongue between your plushy walls. And it was true - so pathetically true. You take him in so easily. 

Somehow, you manage to crack an eye open to spy downwards - only to be met with Satoru’s eyes already on yours. Hazy, curtained by his messy hair, swollen lips curving up to flash you such a devilish grin as he squeezes his tongue past that feeble, first ring of resistance. In and out in and out in and-

“Ohh. Squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.” His jaw grinds deeper, nose flush against your clit. “Ya like that idea? Like the thought of me p-painting ah- slutty pussy white already?”

Your embarrassed little whine isn’t enough of an answer for your husband. No, he’s pressing his fingers - all glossy and covered with a sheen of your slick - onto your pulsing clit. Just barely grazing in a way that has you crying out. 

Making out with your cunt so sloppily, “Tha’s more like it.” Heavy eyes boring into yours - goading, even, for you to give more of a reaction. “Fuck- use those words, pretty. Scream.” Satoru’s fucking into your sloppy hole the way he’s been dreaming to do with his rock-hard cock. “After all, we h-have the Estate all to ourselves, right?”

Faster. Sloppier. 

Pushing and pulling his tongue in a way that has you sobbing, “Yes! Please- wan’- ngh” Thighs squeezing around Satoru’s fervent head, “W-wan you to jus’ breed me, Toru-”

Oh.

Fuck, you might’ve just signed your will away at this point. 

Because in a split-second, you’re cumming. 

Shit, were you glad that there was no one in the house. Sobbing out a broken whine of his name, fingers white-knuckled on Satoru’s hair while you gush all over his pretty face. Just dragging your sloppy cunt all over his mouth - using him through your high. 

And he’s more than happy to be dragged and angled all you please. Greedily lapping up your syrupy sweet juices, just dipping his tongue into your hole to feel the way you clench around him. 

But it’s not long before Satoru’s pulling away. Swallowing a disappointed whine, you gape up at the absolutely feral man looming above you. 

Lips plump and glossy, your juices dripping all the way down his chin, his jaw. Teeth bared, a pretty pink blush dusting over those cheeks - and you have half the mind to wonder how high the kill count actually is. Whether you’d be on it, too. 

“Heh, kill count?” Satoru grins, teeth grazing so dangerously over your racing pulse. Shit, did you say that out loud? “Funny, real funny.” And with that, he’s thumbing apart your swollen folds, biting his lips at the sight of your quivering hole. “Wonder if our- hah- kid’s gonna have your-” Without warning, he spits. Once. Twice. Gliding the pads of his fingers along the thick globs of spit on your cunt, “-humor?”

And oh how ironic it was for Satoru to be groaning out sweet little spiels of what your kids might look like, when his fingers were anything but. 

Stretching out your gummy entrance, having the audacity to laugh - laugh - at how desperately your pussy was trying to milk his fingers. 

“Y-you’re so mean-”

“And yer killin’ me- ohhh you’re gonna be the death of me.” he mutters - strained. Depraved. Hastily pushing apart his yukata. He hisses, “Fuck-”

You can’t help but gasp at the sinful sight before you - Satoru’s blush reaches down his sculpted chest, down, down, down all the way to his painfully hard cock. Curved against his abs, already so angry and soaked with precum. Giving you a pretty little peak of those veins glistening against the dim lighting. 

Before you even know what’s happening, he’s circling his fat, weepy head around your sloppy hole. Slow, lazy patterns to tease your cunt. “Can only pray m’not dead before I see ngh- fuck- my heir.”

It’s like something breaks. And Satoru’s remembering that no, this isn’t just any child - it’s the next Gojo. That grip on the base of his swollen cock tightening when he slips past your pussy lips. 

“Oh! Toru- f-fuck wait s’too big-” you keen, nails digging into where his yukata was sliding off his milky, sculpted shoulders. Hard enough to break skin. “It’s ah-”

“No.” he spits into your sagging mouth. “No no no no- wait fuck- ngh squeezing so fucking- tight.” Hips pushing in quick, shallow little thrusts to squeeze more of his achy head inside. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck hold on. Need this. Need this so bad- please!”

And you can’t do anything but arch into his touch, scrambling up onto your elbows to- shit, that was a bad idea. 

Because one look at the sight of your poor cunt, all bulging and stretched out on Satoru’s massive cock was enough to have you running away. 

You’d barely made a movement to escape, feet flattening on the floor to buck your hips because shit it was too much. And it was a useless effort, anyway, because Satoru’s dragging you back so easily, pulling your limp body deeper down his swollen cock. 

“Need this. Need this need this so bad, pretty.” he groans, barely even halfway in yet. Still pushing, still relentless. “Need to breed this cunt so bad.”

Some tiny, useless part of Satoru’s rationality knows that he should slow down - maybe give you a second to relax. To maybe even breathe. But he was out of control now, hips stuttering and wrenching forwards like he couldn’t stop. 

So he’s simply gripping onto your shaky thighs harder, sure to leave neat little indents of his nails to admire tomorrow - or, whenever he gets back his sanity, that is. 

Satoru hisses at the way you’re so pliant below him. Limp, letting him rest your legs on his muscled shoulders. “Think I needa manhandle ya more often, pretty.” Pressing down, down - all the way until you were folded in half beneath him in such a mean mating press. “Can’t- can’t stop-”

The change in angle makes you scream out Satoru’s name - and it makes him bottom out. Finally. 

Fuck, you weren’t making it out alive.

“Oh.” he grunts at the feeling of his heavy balls smacking against your ass, his fat, leaky tip kissing against your cervix. God, if Satoru was any less of a man he thinks he could’ve cum just from the feeling of you trying to suck him up already. 

“Oh- oh my god-” you gasp when he presses down about halfway down your stomach, Pressing down for that bulge, hard. “You’re in s-so deep ngh- S’like you’re pushing into my ngh- lungs.”

Fuck, if you talked any more with that pretty mouth then Satoru was bound to pass out. Blindly, he’s feeling for your pouty mouth, kissing and nibbling at your wobbling lips like a subconscious apology. For what was to come, that is.

Because Satoru Gojo spares no apologies when he starts moving - finally. Finally fucking you the way he’s been dreaming of all throughout that droning meeting. 

And he says so - a little over fifteen times, in fact, while he splits you apart on his cock. 

“-n’ when I was negotiating those ngh- c-clan deals. N’ when I was at that meeting-” he gasps, shoving your legs so far apart it burned. “S’all I could hah- think of. Everything - don’t give a fuck if I got a contract wrong.”

Each word was punctuated by a rough, harsh ram of his cock, stretching out your gummy walls so far apart like he wanted to make his mark there. Pushing - even when he could feel his aching tip nudging at your cervix.

So merciless - violent even - with the way he’s slamming back into you. Molding your plushy walls to every ridge and curve of his massive cock. It was impossible to even form coherent sentences with his harsh pace. 

A large hand flattens beside your head as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper. More purposeful. You almost sob at the sheer pressure when he dances his fingers down to rub quick, methodical little circles on your clit. “Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. “M-more.”

But it wasn’t enough.

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. And shit at that very moment you almost understood why even the most hardened of clan leaders feared to even look at Gojo Satoru wrong. Because he was giving you a sopping, fucked-out smile, eyes widened, voice trembling, “You want more?”

And of course this was the strongest. Of course, he was ruthless. 

Of course, it takes him exactly two seconds to pull out of your heavenly cunt and flip you onto your stomach. One hand coming under you to angle your hips up until you were on all fours - like some ragdoll. The other feverish, distracting on your clit while he bullies his achingly hard cock past your sopping entrance once more. 

“Fuck!” your voice is hoarse when you scream. Teeth gritting because fuck the stretch was too sinful and Satoru’s hips were too harsh. Too hellbent on fucking into you like he’d lost control. “O-oh please, Toru-”

He doesn’t waste time easing you into it this time, picking up where he left off with that maddening cadence. And you were glad he had an arm on your hips because your knees were weakening with each thrust, slowly sliding down the floor before-

“Aw, my poor girl.” you hear Satoru coo from above you. Muscled chest rubbing up against your back, “S’alright. M’gonna take care of it. You jus’ hafta take it- jus’ take it like the good lil’ wife you are.” his body bows into yours, strands of white sticking to his forehead. “N’ I’ll take fuck fuck fuck- care of everything.” So sloppy with his rhythm, pushing you further and further up the floor with each movement - only to reel you right back so easily. “I’ll wash ‘em and hah- clothe ‘em n’ t-teach ‘em to take over this godforsaken society. To protect their momma.”

“T-Toru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic. “I’m…”

“Hm?”

He didn’t even have to ask - he could feel the way you were squeezing so hard around him, like you were trying to suck the fucking soul out of him. The way the only thing you could get out was his name. 

His perfect wife. 

Sobbing out, “Close! So close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

He was losing his fucking mind. 

Biting down so hard at the crook of your neck to keep himself from cumming before you, he moans deliciously, “Then cum. Fucking cum. Please- wan’ you to cum on my cock.” Wrists aching with how desperate he was moving, “Cum- yeah yeah yeah fucking- cum- Cum for your husband.”

Oh, if heaven was real then whatever was left of that part of Satoru that could still form coherent thoughts knew that this was it. 

Watching you fall apart like such a slut all over his cock. Not even realizing it at first - just that your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, swollen lips falling slack, letting out such a pretty cry of his name that he can’t help but cum, too. 

You don’t know who’s more far gone - you, with your head spinning, a lewd little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time Satoru fucks you through your high. 

Or him, gushing out in thick, hot ropes of cum that overspill from your snug cunt. 

“So muchhh.” you whine, heavy head being held up by your husband. “S’too much.”

And he knew what you were talking about - because Satoru was cumming and cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. Because he was mesmerized by that creamy trail of white drooling down your folds, forming an obscene ring at those tufts of white at his base. 

“Too much?” Satoru hisses. “Too much?”

You can only give a barely-lucid nod, whimpering when he doesn’t ease up. Not one bit, in fact, Satoru was only abandoning the hand playing with your ravaged clit to press down on your abdomen. Hard. 

“There we hah- go. Better now?” The hand supporting your head forced you to look down below, at the sticky mess of white covering your cunt. Slobbering all over Satoru’s cock - even down to his thighs. “Now we got fuck- more space.”

You don’t even realize you’re scrambling away until Satoru gasps, panicked, “No no no- we’re not done, pretty. Fuckkk we’re far from done.” Fingers tightening around your neck to pull you deeper down his cock, holding you in place. Just dragging you along his length. “Gotta make sure it takes. Why else d’you think no one in the Estate will be back until tomorrow?”

He doesn’t wait for a response - not that you could give one, anyway, with how you were being fucked dumb on his cock again. 

A strong, powerful leg hooks around yours, pushing you down with his body weight. “So that we ngh- h-have enough time to prepare for my heir.” Weeping head grazing all those sensitive spots so expertly. “T-to plan and and- ruin you and- fuck you feel so good. They’ll be the most powerful- hah- jus’ watch. Those fuckers better w-wait and see.”

So debauched and fucked-out that you don’t even know what he’s running his mouth about now, just heavy, urgent words slurred into your neck while he fucks you just as sloppily. 

“Don’t know?”

Fuck. You said it out loud again. 

And the embarrassing realization has your eyes screwing open, gazing tearily back at an amused Satoru. Well, as amused as he could be when he was just as wrecked as you. 

Kissing your sweaty forehead, hips reeling back all the way until your cunt was missing the stretch - bucking traitorously against the fat mushroom tip grazing your entrance. Making a mess of precum down below.

“S’alright, pretty.” he groans, sandwiching his cock between your puffy folds. “Because you just have to sit there n’ ngh- take- it.”

If you thought that Satoru was broken before then he was absolutely ruined now. 

Because there was no reason or rhythm to his actions now - just mindless, feral movements to milk his cock as much as he physically could on your pussy. Running only on pure need and the thought of you round and so full with his kid. 

“Ah!” you’re startled out of your reverie by something wet. Whirling sluggishly to catch the tears of overstimulation brimming at Satoru’s heavy eyes - shit, you wondered if he even knew what he was doing at this point. “T-Toru…you- ngh- o-okay?”

The only response you get is an unsteady nod. 

“-the best.” he whispers, twitching balls squeezing so painfully with each slap against your ass. Faster. Absolutely soaked with the sinful concoction of your juices and his cum. “We’ll be the best parents- ngh-” And fuck it was so much - too much. Too good. Painful pleasure.

Enough that all it takes is another, sloppy thrust before he’s seeing stars behind his eyes again. Cock twitching wildly inside your cunt as Satoru shoots load after load of cum to paint your pussy white. 

So warm with his cum - him - that Satoru’s body moves before his mind. Pooling the mess down below to nudge back into your cunt. “C’mon, pretty, c-can’t get ngh pregnant if ya don’t oh- cum.”

And it’s so embarrassing how that’’s all it takes for you to reach your high with a strained, barely audible moan. Voice shot, your own orgasm nothing but a few tingles that have your thighs fucking back into Satoru’s. 

“Satoru- Satoru Satoru Satoru.” you mewl, big fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Birds of a feather, they say. 

Hypnotized. Drunk off the feeling.

And, evidently, Satoru was, too. 

“Pretty…” his voice rings in your ear. Tinged with a tone you know didn’t bode well for you - or your poor, overfilled cunt. Bloated and dribbling already. “Are- sure- ngh-” 

And with a jolt, you realize he’s still moving. Still pushing and pulling in languid, slow strokes. Thighs shaking as the fatigue wears on him. 

If anyone saw Satoru like this, they’d have a heart attack. Flushed your favorite shade of pink, the lower half of his body well covered with a sheen of your obscenities. Eyes teary with sensitivity, cock still twitching and so angry as he clears his throat and tries again, “Are we- hah- sure it took?”

“Wh-what-” you gasp, breathing in big, deep inhales. “Yes- yes yes- oh my god it’won’t-”

“It will.” Satoru’s interruption almost comes out as a whine. And he’s more sluggish, dazed when he flips you over onto your back again - not too difficult, with the way you were practically splayed out already. “Th-this pussy is made to take it, right? T-to be bred by me?”

It’s almost like Satoru was begging for confirmation, plugging back in the excess of what was leaking out of your abused pussy. It was spreading in a lewd little pool now, seeping into the non-existent space between you two.

But oh how Satoru loved it. Couldn’t tear his eyes off of it, in fact as he noses at your neck. Barely even thrusting anymore, just raw grinds, “Right? Gotta make sure- ngh- heir. Oh-”

He’s darting his tongue out to lick at the beads of tears streaming down your cheek. The salty taste on his tongue having Satoru’s hips stuttering forwards. Again. And again - alternating, not on purpose - between hitting your cervix and that bruised g-spot. “Gonna give me an heir? Ohhh fuck fuck fuck- lemme breed this cunt?”

You’re using up every bit of energy left in your body to give that slow, shallow nod. Which is all the time it takes for the pool to spread even wider. For Satoru’s fingers to stumble their way back to play with your clit. 

Rolling his thumb over in a harsh, uncalculated pattern - if you could even call it that, just jerky, obscene movements to get you off. 

And it works. Hell, the two of you are barely in the state of mind to even feel it. But he’s finally cumming again, and so are you. 

“Ngh- Fuck-”

With a loud, pained cry Satoru tightens his grip on your body like a vice. Raw, sensitive, overusing his cock until it felt so empty. Until you felt so bloated it was like you could explode - or maybe that was your own orgasm. “Toru- c-cumming.”

You’re not sure, anymore. And you don’t know if either of you could bring yourselves to care at this moment, not when your eyelids grow heavy. Vision tinging with black in the corners, and the only thing you could see was your husbands face - sweaty, eyes almost closed, kiss-bitten lips moving in a soundless whisper.  “-the best- momma.”

A/N. CLAN LEADER GOJO SAVE MEE. Oh yeah the “can’t get pregnant without the momma cumming” bit was based on this old tale I’d heard where people used to gen believe that. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[eijminds]

i finished reading jjk yesterday IM SO SAD i feel so fucking empty

[torgawl]

gojo's death has been way too controversial for something that has been premeditated for such a long time