#gojo x reader

[vetckkie]

girl get off that c.ai and embrace the 'x reader'

[naomiiocha]

Gojo commission I did recently, had to put pants on him for this post booo 👎

[sugurusbeloved]

+18 MDNI

when your husband is supposed to be the rational one, you don’t expect to find him standing at the foot of the bed with his cock in his hand.

but that’s where satoru ends up. tank top pushed halfway up his ribs, belt hanging from one loop, pants around his knees. his fist works up and down the fat length of his cock in rough strokes, spit and precum smeared down to his balls. he’s staring at you the whole time, at the curve of your hip under the sheet, the flutter of your lashes against your cheek. pregnant. glowing. carrying his baby.

and he’s rutting into his hand like some desperate virgin.

the panties he stole from the laundry basket are bunched in his other hand, pressed to his face. he inhales it, shuddering so hard that the flimsy fabric trembles against his nose. your scent has him sobbing out a noise that doesn’t sound him at all.

“fuck, baby—” the words rip out of him, pitched high. “smell so good... oh fuck, i can’t stop...”

his cock is obscene. flushed dark, veins raised under the skin, the head slick enough to shine in the faint glow of the bedside lamp. precum drips in heavy strings down his balls, thick enough to coat his knuckles. every stroke drags more slick out of him—schlick, schlick, schlick.

he sucks at the fabric like it could feed him, panting between licks, nose buried deep so he could breathe you in while his tongue works. “god, i'd eat you out for days if i just—mnhm!—if i just had the chance...”

his hips snap forward into his own fist, cock smacking his stomach with each thrust. precum splatters onto his tank top, dripping onto the hardwoods.

disgusting. a husband rutting into his fist because he’s too scared to touch his pregnant wife.

but satoru can’t stop. he’s babbling now, words spilling fast and needy. “want it so bad—fuck, i’d worship you, i'd never stop—”

he chokes on a sob as his balls tighten up, cock jerking violently in his grip. the sound he makes is straight up humiliating, a high and euphoric whine.

cum spurts out in heavy ropes, painting his stomach, his abs, fist, and the floor. lewd, thick jets that won’t stop, spilling like his body is trying to empty years of frustration at once. it drips down the backs of his fingers, strings across his knuckles, sprays his shirt. he gasps, still pumping through it, cock twitching violently.

“ah—mnhg—too much...” more cum leaks out, drooling down his cock, streaking his thighs. his knees buckle and he braces one hand on the nightstand, forehead dropping against the wood with a hollow thud.

when it’s finally over, when the spurts slow to tiny dribbles, he’s still shaking so hard he can barely breathe. his cock still pulses against his stomach, half-hard like it doesn’t know how to stop.

and you’re still asleep, lips parted beautifully while he stands there.

oh god, he is so fucked.

[kmrbii]

‧ ₊❝ satoru just needs one final push (nsfw) he physically can’t cum until he hears your voice

satoru's been at this for at least half an hour by now.

hand gliding up and down his cock, thumb pressing hard against the bulging vein. he imagines it’s your soft, pliant hands instead of his own that are coaxing him towards an orgasm. his mind is hazy, the vision of you blurry as his hips buck lazily into his grasp. the movement of his wrists speed up when he feels himself teetering on the edge, only for him to be pulled back onto solid ground immediately.

he's been at this for at least half an hour and yet, he still can't reach the sweet, sweet relief he was aching for. you're to blame, he thinks. the tight squeeze of your pussy around his cock, enveloping him in a special kind of warmth, has ruined everything else for him. especially the now-slick palms of his own.

even the polaroid he keeps in his wallet isn't enough. not even his favourite — the one where you're on your knees in front of him, mouth stretched around his cock. your eyes are locked onto the camera in his hands, and the faux eye contact makes him stifle a groan. but he still needs more.

he dials your number.

you pick up at the second ring.

"hey, babe, what's up?" your voice is amplified by satoru's phone, pressed up against his ear. he feels his balls tighten.

“please…,” he whimpers through gritted teeth. it’s followed by shallow breaths. then the wet shlicks of his precum being smeared all over his length. it glistens with obscenity, and the shame of getting off to the mere sound of his name uttered in your voice.

“satoru? are you okay? you sound…out of breath.”

though your words were innocent, to him, your voice was no different from porn.

“haah, yes, i-i’m, fffuck, i’m fine—please, say my name again,” his voice cracks, and so does his poorly-maintained facade of composure.

“what—satoru, what’s going on?” your lack of awareness of his dirty actions made him grow heavier in his palms. the strands of his hair were slick with sweat, sticking onto his forehead, head tilted back against the headrest.

“shit, again,” he gasps out, deft fingers tugging at his cock. how you haven't caught on, he's not sure. or maybe you have, and you're just playing dumb. whatever it is, every word makes his breath quicken, his face feel hotter, and his legs tremble more.

“is this a prank?”

“no! please, just keep going. talk to me, anything you want. tell me about your day? pretend as if it’s a—hngh—a life or death situation.” it might as well have been the way he was desperately clawing at any shreds of you.

“umm, okay…? well, i was at the grocery store just now, and there was this lady who was a complete bitch. she cut the queue, and y’know what she said to me? she said she didn’t see me! i mean, hellooo?? she could’ve just—”

“fuck!” a loud groan interrupts your little rant.

spurts of cum spill onto satoru’s hand and lap, all of which, of course, you do not see. his chest heaves with relief, head tipped against the headboard. he lays still for a moment, nothing but shaky breaths leaving his lips. the other end of the line is silent too.

for a moment, he thinks you hung up. left him to ride out the aftershocks of his long-awaited orgasm, fingers still twitching against his cock from the muscle memory.

“were you jerking off the whole time?!”

[purrtoru]

satoru doesn’t realize just how tall he is. . . "( – ⌓ – )

tall boyfriend perks are really good.

he reaches everything. top shelves, high cabinets, that one lightbulb you swore you’d get to later— done in seconds, no stool needed.

he doubles as your personal ladder and your built-in heater. you’re basically wrapped in a walking blanket 24/7.

but the cons?

he takes up space without meaning to, and the fact he already loves manspreading whenever doesn’t help at all.

it’s as if everything has gotten smaller. that’s the only logical explanation. because there’s no way one man should be able to take up this much space.

“baaabe,” you whine, shoving at his shoulder. “move.”

a sleepy hum is your only response. one long arm tightens around your waist, dragging you back against him like you haven’t just spent the last five minutes trying to wiggle free.

“you’re warm,” he mumbles into your hair, voice thick with sleep. “stay.”

“i’m gonna fall off the bed. you’re literally on my side.”

this is your life— losing every nightly battle for mattress territory, practically kicked out of your bed simply because he can’t keep his limbs to himself.

a frustrated groan slips out before you give up, finally managing to slip out from his hold. he shifts, reaching instinctively for you, but you’re already gone, padding out of the bedroom and collapsing onto the couch.

it lasts exactly ten minutes.

you wake up once more to something heavy pressing into your back.

“…you’ve got to be kidding me.”

behind you, half-folded onto a couch that is very much not built for a grown man his size, satoru has somehow wedged himself in, arms wrapped tightly around you.

“you left,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your shoulder without opening his eyes.

“because you took over the entire bed.”

“mm.. sorry.”

“and now you’re taking up the entire couch as well.”

he hums again, clearly unconcerned, and pulls you even closer— if that’s somehow possible.

you try to twist around to glare at him, but his grip only tightens, his legs tangling with yours until escape is officially impossible.

“mooove.”

“don’t wanna,” he shoots back, a lazy grin tugging at his lips even in the dark.

you sigh, defeated, resting back against him.

[chososprettygirl]

⡴ utterly whipped gojo forcing you to praise him during sex [kinda a pt 2 to this ? ] ⡴ didn’t even touch word count

he’s balls deep in you, and yet of course he’s still spouting stupid bullshit.

“i’m doing good, right baby?” he moans (moreso whimpers), still thrusting in that half-romantic half-what it’s actually supposed to be—a hookup—rhythm. his normally porcelain cheeks are completely flushed, his cool white hair falls in his face, some strands sticking to his forehead glistening in sweat.

“i—what?” you manage to say, still out of breath from how he’s fucking into you with his unfairly big cock. every perfect ridge and vein of it is dragging against your walls as he thrusts in and out of your sopping cunt—though you’ll deny how wet you are because of how large gojo’s ego will be if he knows he actually arouses you.

“say it.” he pouts above you, gripping harder on your shoulders he’s deemed a perfect leverage point in you to help with his strokes. “say i’m doing good… please?” his blue eyes pleading to you like a puppy dog.

“gojo, i’m not fucking doing th—” he shoves all the way back in and stops his thrusts. you moan without even meaning to from the sheer amount of girth being stuffed in you. he juts his lower lip out further, clearly upset by your answer.

“c’mon,” he looks physically pained as he restrains himself from continuing his thrusts. “just say it and i’ll keep fucking you.” he whines out, sounding a lot more weak and less intimidating than he thought he would.

you breathe out. you know he’ll hold on to this for the rest of the foreseeable future but you’re close anyway. you’ll come then kick him out like always and if next time he keeps mentioning it, you’ll just stuff his face with your pussy.

“you’re doing so good, gojo.” you moan out in a shaky voice.

he moans, loudly, near pornographic, and he gets back to thrusting immediately, except he seems more motivated. his strokes are fasting and more like he’s trying to impress you. his sounds are more desperate and huffy than before.

he reaches around your waist to hug you closer and shove his face deep in your neck, right below your ear.

“haaah, fuck, baby—say i’m the best you’ve ever had, please.”

“mm, god, gojo you’re the best i’ll ever fucking have.” he cries out. cries out and actually cries. tears start streaming down his pale face and cupping along your neck and collar bone where he’s found solace. he’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon.

unwantedly but admittedly, you say this next one yourself. it’s almost like you’re starting to… like him. ew.

“such a g’boy for me, satoru.” he nuts. immediately thick cum oozes into your pussy, spilling out from how overstuffed it already is with his girthy, oversized, genetic lottery winning cock. his whole body shakes and shivers while he releases, still trying to thrust so you could finish like the good boy he is.

unfortunately he forgets he’s not god and ends up overstimulating the hell out of himself by the time he gets you to cream by his thumb pressing along your clit.

he brings his head up, covered in sweat as he’s still shaking from the feeling of nutting the hardest he ever has.

he looks nearly completely out of it before his lips curl into a smirk. “you finally called me satoru!” and then he’s attacking your lips and shoving his tongue so far down you’re throat like he’s wasn’t just near seizing from cumming.

[rengoatku]

Fratjo gets his wisdom teeth removed

A loud knock jolts you from your focus, your stationery practically shakes from the force. You murmur to yourself, “What now?” Irritation evident in your voice as you push yourself out of your seat at your desk and head towards your dorm door.

You’re met with a very groggy, very out-of-it Satoru.

“Satoru? What are you doing here — why have you got gauze in your mouth?”

He pushed past you with a groan and flopped down onto your bed as if he owned it. “Just got my wisdom teeth removed, sweets.” His words were slurred, almost incoherent. You stared at him, pondering why on earth your fuck buddy was coming to your dorm out of all places after just having his teeth extracted.

“Aren't you going to cuddle me?”

You snorted at his garbled words, the idea being so foreign that the only reasonable reaction was to laugh. “Satoru, we never cuddle after you visit, we high five and one of us leaves after getting dressed.” The white-haired man’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at your words, “But… why would I not want to cuddle my girlfriend?”

Hold on, girlfriend?

How many painkillers was this guy on?

You moved closer to him, sitting at the edge of the bed and rubbing your hand up and down his shin. “We aren’t dating, Toru. We just hook up sometimes, remember?” You tried to sound as kind as possible, lowering your voice so as not to embarrass him. Satoru however just shook his head, drool slipping from the sides of his mouth as he sat up.

“Nuh uh, we are dating because I’m sooo in love with you, pretty girl.” He tried to smirk but his cotton-stuffed mouth prevented that, instead, he ended up looking a tiny bit lopsided.

You froze, eyes wide, mouth agape at his confession. “You don’t mean that, you’re practically high from how many meds you’re on.” You tried to get up but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back onto the bed with him. “No, I love you.” He repeated in a sing-song voice, nuzzling his head into your hand.

“My girlfriend, let me love you...” You felt him starting to fall limp against your hand, eyes wavering as he fought a drug-induced sleep. You signed, leaning closer in to press a soft kiss to his damp forehead. “We can talk about whatever that was tomorrow, Toru.”

“Let me love you… don’t you give up, nah-nah-nah…”

“You listen to Justin Bieber?”

“Suguru played it in the car, told me to serenade you…”

And with that, he was asleep.

a/n: perceive gojo as incoherent pls and ty

[satorus-princess]

“uh… why is sensei doing push-ups?” yuji asks, when he, nobara, and megumi enter the classroom.

satoru’s pushing himself up and down with one hand because, according to you, normal push-ups weren’t enough. but even then, he’s barely breaking a sweat. and he’s grinning, while you stand over him, watching with your arms crossed.

his uniform jacket is folded over the back of a chair, leaving him in his compression shirt, arm bulging and back tensing with each lift and fall of his body.

“i upset my-- hah beautiful, smart-- hah strong, gorgeous, perfect wife,” he pants, “punishment fits the crime.”

he really is right where he wants to be.

megumi doesn’t even bat an eye - this was the least unusual thing that you and satoru do. he slides into a chair with a sigh.

“how many does he have to do?”

“a hundred,” you say. satoru lifts his head to look up at you, mouth parted, little pink hearts in his eyes peering at you over the rim of his glasses. “he’s on seventy-two.”

his grin widens. “you know, this isn’t a challenge for me. why don’t you sit on my back, sweetheart?”

you crouch down in front of him and his eyes light up. “i know what you want, and you don’t deserve my touch.” you push his head down so he’s facing the floor again, and he grunts when you press extra weight, forcing his body down. “only twenty-three left. you can do it, my love.”

if his heart wasn’t beating fast enough before, it definitely was now. especially with the saccharine tone you used at the end of your sentence.

god, was he down bad.

“… call us when you’re done,” megumi says, already out of the classroom.

silly thought inspired by this video HAHA can you tell he makes me a little a lot insane