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.

child of divorce yuji forcing you to call your ex!husband sukuna to say goodnight.

you had refused all week to give into yuji's plan that he had stolen from the internet. you were mature, healed and too busy to deal with these little dares. but it was up until one bored evening where you had finally succumbed to his challenge.

Your phone was on speaker, with the line ringing for the contact name of your ex-husband which was simply titled 'sukuna'.

no love hearts, no kisses or nicknames. you were completely over him and have been for years. the only reason you stay in touch with him is for Yuji's sake.

"I don't think he'll pick up yuj' " you murmured to him slightly. "your dad's been busy these past few days.'

and just like the old days, Sukuna always manages to prove you wrong -he always needed to embarrass you, even when he wasn't even here in the flesh.

"hello?" a coarse voice rings out on the other end of the line.

"hello." you respond and immediately you feel your stomach fall in knots. you're nervous. and you don't even know why.

looking up at yuji, his expectant face is watching eagerly as if he enjoys torturing you. he mouths "say it! say it!" and you feel like you have no choice but to continue with your dare.

you swallow down your nerves and attempt to speak as nonchalant as possible. "I just wanted to call and say goodnight."

There's a pause and there's something inside you that just knows how much he's smirking right now.

"Oh really?" he starts putting on a sultry tone, "you haven't done that in a while, is something wrong?"

you pull a face, willing your body to not fall for his tone of voice. no you won't fall like you did all those years ago. absolutely not. "No, I just wanted to say goodnight."

"do you need me to come over and tuck you in as well or....?"

"no! uhm, I mean no I'm fine but y'know I hope you have a good night."

yuji's meanwhile in the corner of the room clenching his stomach and trying his hardest not to let out a laugh.

"hmmm."

"what?"

"cut the crap."

"I'm not-" you start but sukuna manages to cut you off pretty quickly.

"listen, either tell me what you really want or don't bother wasting my time."

you pull a face, "me telling you good night is a waste of your time now?"

"yes."

"what are you even doing right now? it's 11pm and i know you don't have shit to do."

"don't turn this on me, baby, this is all about you."

"don't call me baby." you mutter.

"then don't call me to say good night."

you roll your eyes, you should have known that even the conversation of 'good night' would naturally turn into an argument between the two of you.

"is yuji good? you sure you don't need me to come over to help take care of a pre-teen?" he mocks.

"i don't" you bite, "i was just being kind and saying goodnight, i know how lonely it must get over there. are you sure you're doing alright?" your tone is filled with sarcasm, attempting to play sukuna at his favourite game.

"i dunno', " he starts, "i might need to come over to your bed so you can keep me company.'

you immediately hang up. you're done and finished. whilst yuji's laughing away in the corner all you can do is roll your eyes at the conversation.

but there's a little part.

a little part of you that you won't ever admit to yourself that misses him.

unbeknownst to you, on the other side there's still a smirk on sukuna's face as he sets the phone down, ruminating on the fact that there's also a part of him that misses you.

part two here!

∑(°口°๑) sukuna sees you writing smut (and judges hard)

"'He spits inside your mouth, hips moving faster'—what.”

Sukuna's reading voice turns down a couple of notches once he realized what he's reading, now murmuring as if he's seeing something he shouldn't. He had to squint his eyes to read the following lines, honestly. Too grossed that he wants to look away, but too curious to actually follow through.

“The hell’s this smutty bullshit, woman?” His hand reaches down to grab the back of your chair, spinning you around so you can face him, dumbfounded and... scared? You're not sure. “‘He spits in your mouth’, where'd you even learn that?”

“Oh, don't act like you don't do that to me whenever you're out of it.” Sukuna opens his mouth to reply with an equally sassy tone, but all that leaves him is a begrudging sigh.

“Touché,” he clicks his tongue. “But what exactly are you writin’, huh? Fifty Shades of Nasty?”

You huff as you turn back to face your laptop, the tab with said ‘nasty bullshit’ open for everyone—Sukuna to see. If it was by any means sentient, you're sure it would've plunged itself to the nearest water source, wanting to be rid of the filth you keep writing.

“Well, someone requested this ‘nasty bullshit’, and who was I to deprive them of their wish?” You shake your head, fingers already tapping on your keyboard. “The people yearn for smut, so they'll get smut.”

If he recalls correctly, you mentioned something about your inbox being open, how their kind words almost made you tear up, and how their requests would make you laugh or recoil. Maybe even both. He doesn't really know shit about the whole fanfic… writing thing you do, now that he knows that you can write something like that?-

He's intrigued. For better or for worse.

“Freaky ass.” He mumbles, half-hoping that you catch it, half-hoping that you don't.

“What was that, Mr. Ryomen?” You glare at him, lips pursed together tightly. The last thing he wants to do is laugh at your work and your precious, precious Anon’s request. And if he ever did? Ass red from beating it. "Y'have anything else to say?"

“Nope. Nothin’.” Sukuna turns around to bail before you can hug his neck till he's blue. “You just… Bella Swan through that, babe. Call me if you need anythin’.”

“Good,” you smirk, holding back your laughter as he placatingly raises his hands. “It's good to know where your place is.”

taking satoru's dick for the first time in theory and in practice are two very different extremes. sure you'd felt him from grinding, from holding the weight of him in your palm under the sheets while you two were supposed to be 'watching a movie'. it felt doable for the most part—taking him.

you've heeded all his thinly veiled warnings long enough and tonight of all nights wasn't one where you two could exactly stop at just heavy petting. you'd even laughed at it beforehand, assured him that you could take him for the millionth time.

if you could slap your past self, you would. because now you're barely 2 minutes into him being inside of you. back spread on soft sheets, practically folded in half under satoru. legs slung over his shoulders, panting, practically vibrating from the effort of trying to get used to the sheer size of him.

"fuck—you gotta stop—" his fingers press harder into the undersides of your thighs where he has you held, hips rocking incrementally to get you adjusted to what he's given already. not even halfway in and you're already all noisy. "breathe for me, pretty? so I can give you the rest."

“t-the rest? ” you gasp, voice going embarrassingly high. it feels like he's been pushing in for ages now and now he's telling you that there's more? “that’s not all of it? are you sure?"

"i'm sure, trust me. just a little more." a bit more than a little, but you'd cross that bridge eventually. he presses a kiss to your knee—soft, lingering like he’s trying to ground both you and himself. "you said you could take it."

"i say a lot of things when I'm horny. you know—oh fuck—that!" you snap, voice breaking on the last word. "you're too big. this is all your fault, satoru."

"my fault?" he manages a huff despite the strain in his voice, brows knitted like he's the one struggling here. to be fair, he sort of is. "you said, and I quote—" his hips ease forward by an infinitesimal amount, just enough to have the bulb of him swabbing against your soft insides. it's enough for your jaw to go slack, toes curling near his ears. "—'please just fuck me already'. and to 'stop treating you like glass'." so here he is, not treating you like glass. not holding out on you. large hands press your thighs and knees closer to your chest, his body angled downward to drive into you with short, gentle thrusts.

"I don't even sound like that." you're clawing blindly at the bedding, airy sounds punching out of you like he's owed them.

"mhm. just breathe." he murmurs, voice rumbling low against your skin as he nudges deeper with the next roll of his hips—a slow, steady push, feeding you yet another inch. one hand leaves your thighs to slide up to your stomach, pressing in like he's trying to feel for himself there. "yeah...that's it, let me in.." the same hand settles just above where you're taking him to thumb at your arousal slick clit, your own darting to out the grab at his wrist. to no avail of course, since his thumb just keeps on moving in circle after circle.

“tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?” he whispers, hips tilting just a little deeper. new slick from his teasing helps, sliding deeper with ease. “that's right...all the way. you're doing so well."

it's soft, so sweet and encouraging that you're reaching a hand out to bring him closer to you by the back of his neck. "m'good, 'toru. you're fine."

you can't help but wonder how much more he has left to give, what kind of monstrous beast he's been hiding under his briefs. curiosity gets the better of you, eyes dropping to where you've yet to fully connect.

and boy, do you regret it almost instantly.

it's near obscene. inches of him glistening and buried, folds parted against his girth. even with how long he's been easing in (or how long it feels at least), there's still a gap. his gaze follows yours, nosing gently at your ankle, hand squeezing your thigh. "you okay?"

the glisten of his flesh, the taut flex of his abdomen like he's holding back...no, you're not okay in the slightest.

you can feel your core flutter involuntarily at the sight and god, he feels it too.

“oh fuck,” satoru's voice breaks, forehead tipping down to rest against your forehead. “baby, please don’t do that. i'll...this really won't last long.”

"oops, sorry. sorry."

the bits of soft pink that aren't inside inch in-in-in with every second that passing. it's barely anything left to give, yet, he's being so careful. too careful."

"holy fuck, just do—shit!"

you're arching clean off the bed with the way he suddenly, finally hilts himself inside. bare behind flush to his hips, groomed hairs at his base grazing against your skin.

he’s silent for a moment, breathing slow, forehead still dampened and pressed down against yours. "..okay, I have bad news."

you're a little drunk on him, just lucid enough to manage a small hm, nails scraping through the damp hair at his nape.

"there's...there's a high chance that I'll cum if I move."

even in your state, laughter breaks out of you, the heavy man above you flushing a soft pink from the highs of his cheeks up to his ears. murmuring something about it 'not being that funny' and him 'embarrassing himself here'.

"stay still then." you finally breathe when your laughter dies down just enough, smile all gentle up at him, lips brushing against the sharp point of his nose. "we'll just stay like this all night." the pain had properly eased into a dull, barely there ache at that point—more pleasure than any other feeling. with how he'd taken his time, it'd been almost inevitable.

"can't just not move," he replies through gritted teeth, hips shifting just a hair. enough for you both to feel the heavy drag, the way your walls clench instinctively. "god—I can't not move when you feel like that."

it's endearing in a way, very much flattering. your grin only widens, head lifting to angle your mouth against his with a firm kiss. "i'm close too if that makes you feel any better."

words meant to help only make him whine, throbbing inside you, hips beginning to rock slowly. "you are?"

"mhmm. very close." you let out a strangled sound when his hips angle just right and it's enough for him to give up on pacing himself. his weight crushes your thighs against your chest, pace building. "so just keep moving. please."

the sounds leaving you are a mix of 'ahh's' and calls of his name, all broken, all sending his hips into you a little faster. they stutter as he fucks into you with less and less finesse, 0 rhyme or rhythm just the need to see you cum for him like this. hips slapping against the back of your thighs, paced breaths dually filling the room. "you feel so good. taking me so well." and when his thumb finds your clit again with those same, easy circles? you're a goner. "gonna cum--gonna- oh my god, keep doing that—" he finds that spot from before over and over again like there's a target stuck to it, leaky tip wedging itself right where you need it, pleasure mounting far too quickly. you're crying out at this point, hips angling up into his thrusts. so full it hurts in that perfect, dizzying way.

“fuck, you're gonna make me—”

“shut up and cum,” you choke out. “do it inside. pleaseplease—”

his entire body jolts, pace faltering. you feel him twitch deep inside you before it hits, his hips driving in and out hard—once, twice, and then he’s moaning into your mouth as he spills. he drags you down with him, pressure in your abdomen bursting, unfurling outwards with your release—his name still falling from your lips. helpless sounds that only spur the continued movement of his hips to draw out the pleasure.

you're both shaking, sucking in breaths of air greedily for moments after that. you're still folded like a pretzel, still crushed against his weight. "...that one doesn't count."

"agreed."

-- repost from previous account ˙ᵕ˙ likes and reblogs appreciated, thanks for reading!

one thing you loved about gojo was the multiple beauty marks he had all around his body. you first noticed them when you went out to the arcade together. having just joined jujutsu tech, principal yaga encouraged you to go out with the other students. you asked satoru, the boy you crushed on the second you were introduced to each other.

if he wanted to hang out after seeing that no one else was available. your heart leaped when he accepted almost immediately.

“i haven’t gone to the fair in forever!” he beamed, smile stretched across his pretty face. “cmon, i’ll play all those basketball tossing games and win you whatever you want.”

when you both walked side to side with several stuffed animals, joking about the bumper cars and how he was a terrible driver, you saw the mole right under his eye. your eyes soon fell down to the one on his right cheek, then one on his plump lips. ever since then, you’ve made it your goal to try and find each one. 

you invited him over to the pool on a scorching hot day, feeling your breath hitch when he took off his shirt to jump in. “you not gonna jump in?” he asked, already prepping himself for a dive. but you were too mesmerized to answer back.

water splashed everywhere when his body fell into the pool, landing on you as well. “satoru!!” you called out, wiping your face with you hands in slight annoyance. he laughed at your reaction, pearly whites shining underneath the sun. there were more beauty marks on his chest, and when he turned around, his back was practically littered with them.

“sorry princess, had to get you wet somehow, right?”

your face burned. in what way did he mean that?

he slid onto the floor next to you, kicking his feet in the water. “you look good in that bikini.” he coo’ed.

“thank you..” you squeaked, forcing yourself to look away. it was quiet for a bit until a wave of confidence washed over you. your hand hesitantly reached out to touch the dots on his arm. satoru looked down at you, confused as to what was happening.

“what’s this, hm?”

“i really like your beauty marks..” you mumbled, tracing each one that traveled down his arm. “yeah? i’ve got some on my ass too.” satoru smiled before you playfully slapped him. “i’m kidding, mostly.”

his hand tugged down his swim shorts just a bit to reveal one on his lower waist, right on that delicious v line. your finger brushed against it, making his breath hitch. “what do you mean mostly?” 

“i mean they’re not on my ass.. but y’know.” 

yeah, you definitely knew. that’s why you both were inside in the living room, deep throating your best friend after he had shown you the beauty mark on his tip. “fuckkk..” satoru threw his head back, opening his eyes to watch the way you bobbed yours up and down. “that’s it, suck harder baby.”

you don’t know how it never came to you that he might’ve had some on his dick as well. but you were glad you got to see them either way. your toes were curled, preventing yourself from gagging excessively. not like it did much when he was packing an 8 inch cock that could kill someone.

your whimpers sent vibrations through him, making him arch on the couch. “gonna cum..” he warned, but your eyes were fixated on all the pretty marks on his body. he was like the sky decorated in stars and you were just a stargazer.

“been wanting ya for months.. think i haven’t seen ya staring at me like im a piece of meat? huh?” he slapped your cheek playfully, dropping the hand to squeeze your throat. “got a beauty mark kink or something sweet girl?” you whimpered, eyes shutting close when his warm seed spilled into your mouth. “take every last drop.”

seeing that you obeyed, he gently pulled away. a string of a mixture of saliva and cum connected you to his tip, making you want more.

“wanna count them all now?”

Accidentally Discovering Your Boyfriend’s Weakness

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Pairing: Bf!Sukuna x F!reader

Warnings: Hair Pulling, Teasing, Dirty Talk, Possessive Behavior, Jealous Reader, Heavy Make-Outs, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension, Established Relationship, Dom/Sub Undertones, Denial, Smug Sukuna, Flirting, Praise Kink Undertones, Hair Pulling Kink, Sukuna Being Weak for Reader, Suggestive Content, Explicit Sexual Content, Short.

Synopsis: Sukuna loves having his hair pulled. He would rather die than admit it. Unfortunately, you already know.

──────────────────────

Sukuna loves it when you pull his hair.

Has he ever told you that?

No.

Would he ever admit it out loud?

Absolutely fucking not.

It’s something you started noticing slowly over time, through reactions he probably didn’t even realize he was giving away himself.

And the funniest part?

The first times you pulled his hair weren’t even in a sexual way.

They were out of jealousy.

Sometimes Sukuna could be painfully oblivious whenever women flirted with him. Or maybe he wasn’t oblivious at all and just genuinely didn’t care enough to notice. Either way, it irritates the hell out of you.

Your boyfriend usually acts like speaking to people physically pains him. Half the time he looks one inconvenience away from telling someone to fuck off.

So when he suddenly answers another woman calmly instead of ignoring her like usual?

Yeah. It annoys you more than it should.

Especially because even with that permanently irritated expression and dry attitude, his voice still sounds unfairly sexy.

Fucking idiot.

So whenever those situations happened in public, you’d stand beside him smiling sweetly while resting your hand against his back innocently.

satoru gojo used to be the annoying little kid you babysat every weekend to make extra money during high school.

he was your neighbor’s son—loud, spoiled, with those striking blue eyes that always followed you around the house like you hung the stars. you’d tuck him in, read him stories, and laugh when he threw tantrums about bedtime. “you’re like my big sister,” he used to say, clinging to your leg. you found it cute back then.

now he’s nineteen, tall, ridiculously handsome, and somehow even more trouble.

you still live next door, working part-time while finishing your degree. satoru has grown into something dangerous. six-foot-three of muscle, messy white hair, and that infuriating smirk that makes girls on campus lose their minds. but to you, he’s still little satoru. the kid you used to scold for eating too much sugar.

he wishes you’d stop seeing him that way. because every night when he’s alone in his room, it’s your face he sees. your soft smile, the way your hips sway when you walk, the curve of your breasts under those old t-shirts you wear when you come over to help his mom. he wraps his hand around his cock and strokes himself slow and desperate, imagining bending you over the same couch you used to read him stories on.

he cums hard every time, biting his lip to stay quiet.

𝓢leep 𝓱abits 𓏲˚ ۪ ❤︎⊹.

^ྀི𓈒 ⸝⸝ JJK MEN sleeping habits/sleep hc’s — featuring: toji fushiguro, geto suguru, gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen

^ྀི𓈒 ⸝⸝ Sukuna Ryomen

Bedding down with Sukuna is a nightmare. He’s a statue of cold marble one minute and a restless, twitching predator the next.

The sleepwalking is the worst of it. It’s not some cute, aimless wandering. This man will bolt upright in the dead of night, eyes snapped open but seeing nothing in this century, and start barking orders or rambling about some blood-soaked nonsense from a thousand years ago. It’s terrifying. You’re lying there, heart hammering against your ribs, whispering, "Sukuna? Hey, you okay?" and he just stares through you like you’re a ghost.

Then, just as fast as the fever hit him, he slumps back into the pillows, the weight of him nearly launching you off the mattress. He’s usually cool to the touch—not freezing, a lethal chill that makes you want to crawl under his skin just to find a spark. He mumbles. A lot. Most of it is grit and gravel, but every so often, tucked between a threat and a snarl, your name slips out. And then, something softer. Something that sounds suspiciously like I love you, though he’d sooner rip his own tongue out than admit it come sunrise.

He likes to keep you pinned. You’re small enough that he can practically swallow you whole against his chest, his massive arms locking you in place like a cage. It’s a domestic sort of violence, he finds you pathetic and adorable, though he’ll only show it by burying his face in your hair and grunting when you try to turn over. Then comes the morning. He’ll wake up with a scowl that could level a city, rubbing a shoulder that hasn't felt pain in a millennium.

"You hit me," he’ll growl, "You were swinging in your sleep again, brat. Try it again and see what happens." He knows damn well you didn't do a thing. He just likes the way you look when you're indignant and trapped under his weight.

warnings. mdni. gojo accidentally puts u in a mating press during a playfight, dry huming + cumming in pants.

Satoru Gojo is built like a fucking tank and it’s no exaggeration—broad-shouldered, firm, and heavy. Built with a density that makes the air around him feel thin. It’s most obvious when he’s fresh from the gym, black compression shirt stretched over his frame, tracing the hard line of his chest and the way his biceps coil with the slightest twitch of his fingers.

It’s why you keep baiting him into these meaningless little skirmishes—soft provocations just to feel the sheer, overwhelming force of him. To let him catch your wrists and remind you exactly how easily he can fold you into the floor.

Your lungs burn already. You’re shoving, palms flat against the unyielding fabric of his shirt, straining until your muscles shake. But it’s useless. There’s a pronounced imbalance in physical strength, not that you’re complaining (obviously), but he could at least pretend there isn’t and budge a little, for the sake of your dignity.

“Shit, ‘toru,” you grunt, the words squeezed out of your chest. “How much… do you even weigh? Feels like im trying to push a fuckin’ sumo wrestler off me or some shit.”

𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒐 is pathetic for you, always has been and always will be. turning into mush under your hands. trying his absolute best to keep his composure but not able to help but let slip the small whines between your kisses.

you love it. you love teasing him, he's just so patient and you like pushing him to see just how patient he can be. kissing him deep and slow, sitting happily in his lap as you take your time. able to feel the unmistakable erection digging into you, your pussy growing wetter the longer you sit on him.

moving your attention to his neck, kissing down his throat. choso's hands dig into your hips, panted moan leaving him as he bares himself to you more. he whines your name softly, urging you to do more.

"c'mon, stop teasing so much," he huffs, nearing his limit.

you pout back at him, "but i'm not done kissing you."

his head is tilted back, watching you closely. he can feel himself throbbing in his pants, dick aching for attention. feeling so much more sensitive and worked up than he has in a while, you must be feeling especially evil today because this is the most you've teased in a bit.

choso's skin feels hot all over, everywhere your lips have touched, where your tongue has grazed. he knows he's flushed and pitiful and he can't even care because you look so pretty kissing him stupid.

"fine, keep kissing me then." he pulls your head back down to him.

lips on yours frenzied and desperate, tongue licking into your mouth as he kisses you deep. relishing in the moan you let out, hips jolting up against you. his cock throbbing and straining against its confines, begging for you.

the control you have is slipping the more you get caught up in his kisses. shiver running down your spine at his hard dick grinding into you. parting your lips, you ghost them over his, barely touching.

"cho, i want you inside me," you whisper against him, breaths intermingling.

that quiet plea does him in completely, cumming out of nowhere. shudders run through him and he grabs you, holding you tight to him. hips desperately rutting up into you to ride out his high. his whines are pitched and needy, his mouth latches onto your neck.

you're as surprised by his orgasm as you are turned on, moaning softly as he continues to grind up into you. stroking his back comfortingly as he comes down. he's a mess, eyes weepy and lips pink and swollen from your shared kisses.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," he nuzzles against your sternum, "i was too turned on, you're so pretty and your voice—"

"it's okay, cho," you kiss the top of his head, "you'll just have to make it up to me now."

choso looks up at you, eyes sparkling, "undress for me then."

“Aaah— please, baby, let me—”
“No.”

You stand your ground firmly. You were enforcing a sex ban on your husband, Gojo. Was a sex ban really necessary? Probably not. He forgot you were spending a day out with friends since you left before he woke up, and you were just taking soo loonngg to get back home. You two usually had sweet, gentle, lazy sex in the mornings to start your day off on the right foot. But you thought he looked so peaceful asleep, you didn’t want to wake him before you left. How were you supposed to know how pent up you’d be leaving him?

It was 4 PM, and you were still out. Poor Satoru just couldn’t take it anymore. He whipped out his phone to take a video of him palming at his aching cock, moaning like a whore into the mic.

You saw the notification pop up on your phone and thought nothing of it, assuming it was just an innocent video from your husband. How was Satoru supposed to know you’d be around your friends when you opened it? With the volume dialed all the way up too, although that one’s on you.

“You didn’t think to give me a heads up first?!” you shouted at Satoru when you came home, who just pouted like a puppy as he accepted your scolding.

Fast forward three days to the current moment, you were in no mood to have sex with him. Well. You were. But you were being stubborn, as per usual. He had already apologized and everything. You weren’t really sure why you were still enforcing a sex ban on your lovely husband. Your lovely husband who was rock hard just at the sight of you sitting across from him on the couch. Your lovely husband who was massaging your feet, trying to get on your good side.

Fuck.

He was so hard.

And you were so horny.

But again, so stubborn.

Maybe if you just….

You scoot your foot closer to his crotch, slightly rubbing your toe against the outline of his tip. It had been three days since you touched his cock. You missed it.

You tried to act nonchalant. Like this wasn’t intentional. Like you weren’t trying to rile him up. You’d pull your foot away every few seconds, pretending to be more focused on your phone than you were on him.

You’d slowly graze your foot against his base, all the way back up to his tip. Then move away. Repeat.

Satoru caught on instantly. Did you think he was born yesterday or something?

However, he didn’t want to spook you by acting too fast. He’d thrust up ever so carefully against your touch. When you’d graze your foot against his tip, he’d lean into it.

More.

And more.

And more.

You’d grown less careful yourself, not caring about subtlety.

“Baby… can I?” he looked over to you with those big blue eyes, hovering his hands above your ankle.

You nod, not exactly sure what he was asking or what you were agreeing to, but you think you get the gist of it.

He grabs your ankle with one of his hands and uses the other to position himself on the couch.

He leans into your foot, just grinding against it desperately.

“Mpphff— I love you. Fuucck—” he groans as he reaches his high, his pace growing faster and unsteady till eventually a wet spot forms in his sweatpants.

“Thank you.” he lets out a breathy sigh.

“That desperate, huh?” You try to look unaffected, as if your panties weren’t soaking from that little show Satoru put on. Like your pussy wasn’t aching with regret that you let him cum in those pants of his instead of cumming in you.

“Yeah. I missed you.”

Yeah, you’re a weak woman.

“Okay, you’re forgiven.”

He cocks his eyebrow up and gives you that infamous grin.

“Really? Just like that?” His voice teases.

“Take your pants off, Toru.”

“Anything for my wife.”

a/n: here’s the visual link that this was inspired by. It kept showing up on my feed so I fear I had to write something about it. Pls no foot fetish allegations, I just thought the video was hot🥲 I enjoy desperate men.

©briarfaerie 2026