ohhh god. pathetic gojo who’s so desperate for a taste of you, that he’s willing to do whatever you want from him. whether it’s embarrassing himself, diminishing himself, doing flips or tricks. whatever. it’s never too much when it comes to pleasing you.
he kneels against some randoms bed at a party—he only came because you promised you’d be there, a devilish smile on your lips. he followed you like a dog to a bone when you crooked your finger at him, on a leash strapped so tightly around his throat. he’s all quips and smart remarks, but he folds himself over for you.
he’s so tall, still, even on his knees, but that’s okay. you grab a fistful of his hair, and shove his face between your thighs, his back bending so greatly that it must hurt. but Satoru doesn’t complain, no. instead he hums and smiles, thankful for finally being able to smell you this close, feel the outline of your lips through your soaked panties.
“Get to eating,” you tell him, a command in your voice that he happily follows. he licks you through the fabric, holding tightly to your hips, groaning under his breath when you hook your knee to rest on the bed. you trap him against the mattress, his neck tilted at an awkward angle, your fingers splayed through white locks. but he’s grateful either way.
if anyone were to walk in right now, they’d be taken for a huge surprise; someone of a smaller stature than the infamous Gojo, fucking their cunt against his mouth as he holds onto your hips, his mouth agape the entire time. your hands forcing his head against you, grinding your hips against him, your lips kissing his own. his cock pathetically kicks in his sweats, and he doesn’t even need to touch it to feel close to coming all over himself.
drool spills from the tip of his tongue to messy his chest and stomach, letting you rub your clit against the softness of it until you’re tired of using him. you ride his face until you’re shuddering, coming all over his mouth with a moan that he embeds into his mind for later use. he’ll never grow tired of being your fucktoy, of being used by you. he only hopes you’ll let him be your dildo, next.
