Shōko grabs at his hair, shoves his face exactly where she wants it with her stiletto braced against his thigh. It’s tearing holes in his skin, but he sits there and takes it like a good little fucktoy, sticking out his tongue so she can ride it to her heart’s content. She isn’t gentle about it either. His nose bends and flexes with every pass of her clit, but Shōko just thinks he looks extra pretty like this. She’s always thought Gojō Satoru looks best with his mouth occupied, blue eyes burning up at her from below. She yanks on a fistful of white hair just to see them sparkle, just to see the tears spring to the corners as she fucks herself on his face, watching him steadily grow pink as he chokes on the taste of her. It’s a pretty, pretty sight. Almost too pretty. Biting back her moan, Shōko shoves him away in the moment before she shudders apart on his tongue, only to bring her hand down across his face. She hits him hard enough to send him reeling sideways, chair teetering on two legs before righting itself. It’s hard enough to summon blood to the surface, red and delicious over the apple of his cheek.
He didn’t do anything to deserve it, not really. It wasn’t his fault that she enjoyed the sight of him suffocating a little too much. She likes it though. And she knows that Gojō likes it, too. She can tell by the grin he’s sporting as he gasps off to the side, chin slick and shiny with her pleasure. The blood from his bitten tongue travels along the curve of his jaw and down the column of the throat, soaking into the ropes crossing over his sternum. Sometimes Shōko wonders what he gets out of it. She can’t even create the illusion of threat. He could easily put a stop to it if he wanted to; he could break free from his restraints merely by putting his mind to it. He doesn’t though. He never does. And selfishly, she’s glad for it. It makes her feel less weird about the fact that she gets off on this, on hurting him. If it isn’t a fetish for their pleasure, men usually get their panties in a bunch when a woman enjoys dishing out pain as much as she enjoys receiving it. Somehow, Shōko thinks it makes sense that the strongest of all men is okay with being slapped about. Gojō Satoru isn’t exactly the model feminist, but at least he’s all about equal opportunities when it comes to this.
currently the last post in the #satoshoko tag is someone's post about my own fic from two months ago 😭 therefore, in honour of my LRP and sharing the multishipper love, here's a wip where gojo is being *checks notes* a good little fucktoy for shoko. i swear it's softer than it seems 🔞 #jjk #satosho
