solo missions were always the ultimate crucible for satoru’s fragile patience, but a particular lonely night was what destroyed his impulse control irreversibly. the antidote to his misery? simple: your favourite t-shirt, pulled taut over a plush pillow from a provincial hotel room.
propped on a sleek tripod, the phone lens captures his athletic, flaxen form hunched over the makeshift surrogate of your body. he is completely naked, his bulbous cock already weeping a glossy glaze of pre-cum that stains the cotton a deep, wet grey. letting out a small, vibrating whine, satoru buries his face in the fabric and begins to hump the pillow in a stubborn tempo. the camera records his arousal thoroughly: the prominent blue veins pulsing and bulging along the angry red tip, the tight sack of his balls slapping rhythmically against his inner thighs with each needy tilt of his pelvis as he ruts himself blind against your clothes.
“g-god, i miss you already...” he mumbles into the fabric, his snowy lashes dampening with tears only you are allowed to see. minutes after, his whole body shudders into a passionate climax, his hips locking forward to pin the ruined pillow down as his cock spasms repeatedly, firing thick, pearly ropes of cum across the cotton.
the dazed, pussydrunk euphoria vanishes the moment it appeared. with a miserable sigh, satoru crawls on his hands and knees toward the edge of the bed and yanks the phone off the stand. he brings the camera directly to his face, deliberately overexaggerating his expression into a trembling pout. his lower lip juts out with borderline obnoxious petulance, his bright blue eyes narrowed in a childish, heavy-lidded scowl as if his loneliness were completely your fault.
“look at what you made me do to myself,” he grumbles, his voice filled to the brim with an insufferable, homesick brattyness before his thumb viciously cuts the recording to black.
ᝰ.ᐟ choso begging you to squeeze him with your thighs while eating you out ⸝⸝ 18+ mdni
"ah—cho, please—"
the words broke apart in your throat, dissolving into a ragged, breathless moan that echoed softly in the quiet bedroom. you gripped the damp bedsheets on either side of your head, your knuckles turning white as his tongue traced a slow, agonizingly deep stroke right over your clit.
he was relentless. he had been down there for what felt like hours, his heavy, rhythmic hums vibrating right through your skin every time you cried out his name.
"f-fuck—feels so good," you gasped, your hips lifting off the mattress instinctively, chasing the friction of his mouth. "right there—please..."
choso didn't speak. he only let out a low, dark growl of approval against your wet cunt, his large hands sliding up the insides of your thighs to hold you open wider. the deliberate, heavy rhythm of his mouth was blurring your vision, driving you past your absolute limit.
every lick was perfectly calculated, heavy and soaked with intention, until a particularly sharp, blinding wave of pleasure rippled straight through your spine.
your body reacted before your mind could register it. seeking an anchor against the overwhelming sensation, your thighs clamped shut instinctively, trapping his head securely between them.
choso let out a muffled, surprised sound against your folds, the sudden restriction cutting off his breath.
panicking, you immediately opened your legs back up, your breath hitching as your face burned with embarrassment. "oh my god, baby, i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to—i wasn't thinking—"
"don't," he cut you off, his voice raspy, deeper, and rougher than you had ever heard it. he looked up, his dark eyes dilated so wide they looked almost entirely black, a faint, dark flush creeping up his neck and dusting his cheekbones.
he gripped the insides of your knees, his fingers digging into your skin with a possessiveness that made your blood run hot. "shit—do it again."
"w-what? but i—"
"please," he begged, the word slipping out with a desperate, breathless edge that made your stomach flip. his chest was heaving. "squeeze me again. oh fuck—just like that, baby. lock your legs."
the raw hunger in his expression made it impossible to refuse. slowly, hesitantly, you brought your thighs back together, locking him in place once more, applying a firm, steady pressure against his neck.
a low, ragged groan escaped him, vibrating directly against your sensitive bud. he buried his face back into you, his tongue working with a newfound, frantic intensity that completely derailed your thought process. "harder," he mumbled against your pussy, his hands sliding up to your hips, fingers bruisingly tight as he anchored you. "squeeze harder, baby."
you complied, tightening your hold, completely overwhelmed by the blinding intensity of it. you were caught so deeply in the throes of your own approaching climax that the world narrowed down to just the pressure of your legs and the wicked, relentless motion of his mouth.
because of the sensory overload, you didn't notice the subtle, rhythmic motion beneath you at first. you didn't realize that with every tight squeeze of your thighs restricting his airflow, choso was heavily, desperately humping his clothed length straight into the mattress. he was completely losing himself in the friction, his hips rolling in a tight, frantic pattern against the sheets, riding the intoxicating sensation of being choked by you.
your climax hit like a freight train, your walls pulsing violently around his tongue as a loud cry left your lips. you squeezed him tight, your thighs locking like a vice as you rode the wave.
right as you peaked, choso let out a choked, broken sound. his whole body went rigid beneath you. his hips gave one last, hard, desperate shove into the mattress, his fingers digging so deeply into your hips it was almost painful. he trembled violently, his breath catching in a long, shuddering gasp as he buried his face entirely in your thigh, hiding himself away as he spent.
as the sparks in your vision began to fade and your breathing slowed, you gradually loosened the grip of your legs. choso slumped forward, resting his forehead against your stomach, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow pants.
it was only then, as the quiet returned to the room, that you noticed the heavy, uneven thumping of his heart against your leg, and the distinct, damp heat pressing through the fabric of his trousers right where he had been pinning himself to the bed.
you blinked down at him, your hand coming up to rest in his dark hair. "cho...?"
he didn't move for a long moment, completely spent, his shoulders still twitching slightly. when he finally looked up, his face was completely flushed, eyes heavy and hooded with a profound, dazed satisfaction. he swallowed hard, a sheepish but utterly dark look in his eyes as he realized you had figured it out. he hadn't even touched himself; he had finished purely from the friction of the bed and the suffocating pressure of your thighs.
"told you," he murmured, his voice a gravelly whisper as he leaned up to kiss your jaw, completely unbothered by his own ruined state. "i liked it."
naoya praises himself while he's got you folded in half, your knees pressed to your chest, his cock slipping in and out of you at a rate that has your brain melting out of your ears.
"making a mess," he comments, not bothering to slow his pace as he leans into your space, lips turned up into a sly smirk and just centimeters from your ear to ask, "that 'cause of me?"
and when your walls start clamping down around him, "cumming again? who did that for you?" followed by a laugh.
but every once in a while, his confidence cracks. you don't even realize he's started to slip until his forehead presses to yours.
his pace starts to falter, collapsing into you. he supports his weight on one arm above your head, the other wrapped around your waist as your hips work together now. the angle is just right, the tip of his cock staying pressed into your sweet spot, every shift of your hips sending little shockwaves down your spine.
"tell me i'm doing a good job," his voice wavers when he asks, throat bobbing as he swallows down his fear of rejection. vulnerability is written all over him - eyes squeezed shut, his fingers playing with the loose ends of your hair. when you take too long to respond, he chokes out a, "please."
your hand comes up to his face, gently placing it against his cheek. you bring your lips together for a moment and then, "you're doing a good job," when you pull away, head falling back into the mattress.
your voice is soft and seemingly exactly what he needs. he lets out a low, lengthy moan, letting more of his weight settle on top of you as his thrusts pick up speed again.
being with choso meant having your tits sucked 24/7 ୨୧ choso kamo x fem!reader ୨୧ i love boobs
it starts off as a coping mechanism after a long hard day. choso will pull your shirt down and suck on your nipple, softly, squeezing the other gently.
somehow over the months, it turns into an obsession. now, even after a good day, choso thinks he deserves to reward himself. his lips attach to your nipple, sucking and licking, rutting his bulge against your cunt.
if you're home all day with him, there's no point in putting on a bra, let alone a shirt. it will be stripped off you instantly. his lips will be attached to your chest in record time.
he loves sucking on them when he fucks you too. he pounds into you while licking your nipples, marking every single bare spot of skin. he thinks you look pretty like that. and when they all start to fade away, he fucks you again so he can mark them.
your tits will always be covered in his spit. he loves the way his spit shines when it catches a shimmer of light. he spits on your nipples before taking them into his mouth, admiring the wetness of him on your pretty buds.
he sucks your nipples while going to bed. you'll cradle his head in your chest while he sucks on your nipples like a baby with a pacifier. you've gotten used to feeling him falling asleep with your nipple in his mouth. his drool with slide on your skin as he sleeps with you in his mouth.
naoya praises himself while he's got you folded in half, your knees pressed to your chest, his cock slipping in and out of you at a rate that has your brain melting out of your ears.
"making a mess," he comments, not bothering to slow his pace as he leans into your space, lips turned up into a sly smirk and just centimeters from your ear to ask, "that 'cause of me?"
and when your walls start clamping down around him, "cumming again? who did that for you?" followed by a laugh.
but every once in a while, his confidence cracks. you don't even realize he's started to slip until his forehead presses to yours.
his pace starts to falter, collapsing into you. he supports his weight on one arm above your head, the other wrapped around your waist as your hips work together now. the angle is just right, the tip of his cock staying pressed into your sweet spot, every shift of your hips sending little shockwaves down your spine.
"tell me i'm doing a good job," his voice wavers when he asks, throat bobbing as he swallows down his fear of rejection. vulnerability is written all over him - eyes squeezed shut, his fingers playing with the loose ends of your hair. when you take too long to respond, he chokes out a, "please."
your hand comes up to his face, gently placing it against his cheek. you bring your lips together for a moment and then, "you're doing a good job," when you pull away, head falling back into the mattress.
your voice is soft and seemingly exactly what he needs. he lets out a low, lengthy moan, letting more of his weight settle on top of you as his thrusts pick up speed again.
naoya praises himself while he's got you folded in half, your knees pressed to your chest, his cock slipping in and out of you at a rate that has your brain melting out of your ears.
"making a mess," he comments, not bothering to slow his pace as he leans into your space, lips turned up into a sly smirk and just centimeters from your ear to ask, "that 'cause of me?"
and when your walls start clamping down around him, "cumming again? who did that for you?" followed by a laugh.
but every once in a while, his confidence cracks. you don't even realize he's started to slip until his forehead presses to yours.
his pace starts to falter, collapsing into you. he supports his weight on one arm above your head, the other wrapped around your waist as your hips work together now. the angle is just right, the tip of his cock staying pressed into your sweet spot, every shift of your hips sending little shockwaves down your spine.
"tell me i'm doing a good job," his voice wavers when he asks, throat bobbing as he swallows down his fear of rejection. vulnerability is written all over him - eyes squeezed shut, his fingers playing with the loose ends of your hair. when you take too long to respond, he chokes out a, "please."
your hand comes up to his face, gently placing it against his cheek. you bring your lips together for a moment and then, "you're doing a good job," when you pull away, head falling back into the mattress.
your voice is soft and seemingly exactly what he needs. he lets out a low, lengthy moan, letting more of his weight settle on top of you as his thrusts pick up speed again.
naoya praises himself while he's got you folded in half, your knees pressed to your chest, his cock slipping in and out of you at a rate that has your brain melting out of your ears.
"making a mess," he comments, not bothering to slow his pace as he leans into your space, lips turned up into a sly smirk and just centimeters from your ear to ask, "that 'cause of me?"
and when your walls start clamping down around him, "cumming again? who did that for you?" followed by a laugh.
but every once in a while, his confidence cracks. you don't even realize he's started to slip until his forehead presses to yours.
his pace starts to falter, collapsing into you. he supports his weight on one arm above your head, the other wrapped around your waist as your hips work together now. the angle is just right, the tip of his cock staying pressed into your sweet spot, every shift of your hips sending little shockwaves down your spine.
"tell me i'm doing a good job," his voice wavers when he asks, throat bobbing as he swallows down his fear of rejection. vulnerability is written all over him - eyes squeezed shut, his fingers playing with the loose ends of your hair. when you take too long to respond, he chokes out a, "please."
your hand comes up to his face, gently placing it against his cheek. you bring your lips together for a moment and then, "you're doing a good job," when you pull away, head falling back into the mattress.
your voice is soft and seemingly exactly what he needs. he lets out a low, lengthy moan, letting more of his weight settle on top of you as his thrusts pick up speed again.
“I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you, I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you.”
𓏲𝄢 Dollie's Note: “Welcome back, Dollie!” we all say in unison.
𓏲𝄢 Summary: Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer and the most perfect boyfriend alive.
❦ BOYFRIEND!SATORU is, quite frankly, one of the silliest people you'll ever meet. He's the type to confidently give the wrong directions despite insisting he knows exactly where he's going, make up the most ridiculous excuses whenever he's caught doing something stupid, and laugh so hard at his own jokes that he can barely finish telling them. Half the time you're genuinely left wondering how the strongest sorcerer alive can also be this much of an idiot, but somehow, that's exactly what makes him so unbelievably endearing.
❦ Having BOYFRIEND!SATORU in your life means accepting that personal space is more of a suggestion than an actual boundary. He appears beside you without warning, rests his chin on your shoulder while you're cooking, follows you from room to room simply because he'd rather be wherever you are, and somehow convinces you that doing absolutely nothing together is infinitely better than doing anything apart.
❦ Dating BOYFRIEND!SATORU means never having to wonder what you're doing on the weekend because he's already made plans for the both of you. One day it's an amusement park simply because he woke up craving roller coasters, the next it's a late-night drive with no destination in mind, followed by an impromptu picnic after spotting a field that “looked romantic enough.” He has an almost unfair talent for making even the most ordinary days feel like little adventures you'll end up talking about for years.
❦ BOYFRIEND!SATORU is, unfortunately, a massive baby. The strongest sorcerer alive somehow loses all dignity the second he decides you haven't paid enough attention to him. Suddenly he's dramatically collapsing across your lap because you've been answering emails for twenty minutes, complaining that you're neglecting him because you chose to finish one episode without waiting, and insisting he's on the verge of death after you took a shower without him.
❦ BOYFRIEND!SATORU pretends he's far too confident to ever get jealous, but you've learned to recognize the signs almost immediately. The way his arm casually finds your waist when someone gets a little too friendly. The way he suddenly becomes twice as charming whenever someone else has your attention. And every now and then, hidden beneath all that teasing confidence, he'll quietly ask, “You still like me the most, right?” as though he needs to hear you say it, just one more time.
❦ BOYFRIEND!SATORU loves starting arguments with sarcasm, tries to joke his way through serious conversations, and stubbornly insists he's right for far longer than necessary. But the second the apartment grows too quiet or you stop looking at him the way you normally do, his resolve crumbles almost immediately. Before the night is over, he's already pulling you into a hug, mumbling a sheepish apology into your shoulder because he simply can't stand the thought of you being upset with him.
❦ Beneath all the confidence, BOYFRIEND!SATORU is still just a man carrying far more than anyone realizes. There are nights when the teasing disappears completely, when he quietly rests his head against your shoulder without saying much at all, exhausted in a way sleep alone could never fix. He rarely asks for comfort outright, but the way he reaches for your hand or lingers in your embrace just a little longer tells you everything he doesn't know how to say.
❦ BOYFRIEND!SATORU has moments, usually long after the mission is over and the city has finally gone to sleep, where he falls uncharacteristically silent. He stares out the window a little too long, lost in thoughts he'll never fully put into words, before absentmindedly reaching for your hand, needing the quiet reminder that he's no longer alone.
❦ BOYFRIEND!SATORU isn't the best with speeches, but he'll tell you when you've done well because he truly means it. He'll admit when he's wrong, even if it bruises his pride. He celebrates your victories like they're his own and listens to your worries without trying to turn every conversation into a joke because anything that has to do with you is something he'll always take seriously.
❦ BOYFRIEND!SATORU has a habit of loving you in ways so subtle they're almost unfair. He remembers the tiny things you mention in passing, quietly replaces your favorite snacks before you realize you've run out, switches sides on the sidewalk without thinking, and absentmindedly fixes your hair or straightens your collar in the middle of conversations. Half the time he doesn't even realize he's doing it anymore—it simply comes as naturally as breathing.
❦ BOYFRIEND!SATORU loves you with a kind of certainty that never leaves room for doubt. He knows what you need before you ask for it. He notices when your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes, quietly steals you away from overwhelming crowds, wraps you in his jacket when the weather suddenly turns cold, and wordlessly pulls you against his chest on the days when everything simply feels too heavy. Somehow, being held by him makes the rest of the world feel quieter.
❦ And maybe that is what makes loving BOYFRIEND!SATORU feel so effortless in the end. He's dramatic. He's clingy. He's unbearably cocky, endlessly talkative, and somehow manages to annoy you at least once a day. But he's also endlessly patient with your heart, fiercely loyal, hopelessly devoted, and loves you with every part of himself. For all his ridiculous little quirks, there's never a single moment where you question how deeply you're loved—and that's what makes him the perfect boyfriend.
naoya praises himself while he's got you folded in half, your knees pressed to your chest, his cock slipping in and out of you at a rate that has your brain melting out of your ears.
"making a mess," he comments, not bothering to slow his pace as he leans into your space, lips turned up into a sly smirk and just centimeters from your ear to ask, "that 'cause of me?"
and when your walls start clamping down around him, "cumming again? who did that for you?" followed by a laugh.
but every once in a while, his confidence cracks. you don't even realize he's started to slip until his forehead presses to yours.
his pace starts to falter, collapsing into you. he supports his weight on one arm above your head, the other wrapped around your waist as your hips work together now. the angle is just right, the tip of his cock staying pressed into your sweet spot, every shift of your hips sending little shockwaves down your spine.
"tell me i'm doing a good job," his voice wavers when he asks, throat bobbing as he swallows down his fear of rejection. vulnerability is written all over him - eyes squeezed shut, his fingers playing with the loose ends of your hair. when you take too long to respond, he chokes out a, "please."
your hand comes up to his face, gently placing it against his cheek. you bring your lips together for a moment and then, "you're doing a good job," when you pull away, head falling back into the mattress.
your voice is soft and seemingly exactly what he needs. he lets out a low, lengthy moan, letting more of his weight settle on top of you as his thrusts pick up speed again.
Reminder to other authors in this space I do my best to love
Please add a note at the top of your fics to specify the reader's gender
Female/feminine reader is the most common, but not everyone reading identifies that way. There is truly nothing worse as a transmasc person than starting a fic, enjoying it, then getting fucking misgendered by a tumblr post if I get into it
On a good day it's mildly irritating, on a bad day it can be genuinely upsetting. I just want to enjoy reading like everyone else
Just a note at the top like "Sukuna x fem!reader" or whatever formatting you want, and if you really wanna push the boat out, tag it as jjk x female reader or whatever the applicable fandom is
And on a related note, please stop putting gender neutral fics in the male reader tags. That isn't a male reader, it's gender neutral. That has its own tag
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
origamiaround
dailybridgerton
izzy806
