#spank time

another slap. this one a bit harder, making your skin tingle and heat up right away.

your skin stings hot.

“ow—satoru!”

he chuckles, low, right behind you.

his free hand strokes down your back, almost gentle then rubbing the spot he just hit, soothing it like he’s doing you a favor.

“see? that’s what happens when you push my buttons” he says, voice light and teasing.

“you just had to misbehave, huh?” condescending little lilt in his tone, like he’s talking to a kid who doesn’t know any better, but there’s amusement in it.

you twist a little, trying to look back at him, but he keeps you in place with ease. those long fingers of his press down on your lower back, holding you steady.

“stay still,” he murmurs. “we’re not done yet. you think you deserve a little tap? nah, you gotta learn.”

smack.

you hiss through your teeth, legs kicking uselessly.

“wanna try that again?” he drawls, tone sweet enough to rot teeth.”

you breathe out shakily, “…no.”

the heat spreads, turning into that fuzzy burn that makes your head spin.

“thought you were so funny, huh? teasing me in front of everyone.”

“i wasn’t—”

smack.

“shh,” he cuts in, not mean. just… amused.

“you were. don’t lie, baby. i saw you.” his hand rubs over the spot he just hit, tracing lazy circles that make you shiver.

then he pinches lightly.

you squirm, trying again to look back at him over your shoulder.

his blindfold is pushed up on his head, those blue eyes sparkling like he’s having the time of his life.

“look at you,” he coos. “all red already. you really can’t handle a little discipline?”

smack. smack.

two quick ones. alternating cheeks. you bury your face again. groaning into the pillow.

“that’s three… four… five,” he counts out loud, like a game. “how many more do you think you deserve?”

“none,” you mutter, muffled.

he laughs. actual laugh. “wrong answer.”

another one. firmer. the sound echoes in the room.

your whole body tenses enough to make your toes curl. then relaxes when his hand stays put, rubbing again. pressing in.

“see? you’re already learning,” he says, voice dropping lower. “good girls don’t sass their boyfriends in public.”

you wiggle your hips, half trying to get away, half… not.

he clicks his tongue. “still moving? okay. let’s make it six.”

smack.

“ow! fuck—satoru, come on.”

“language” he scolds, but he’s clearly fighting back a grin.

he’s so damn smug. “that’s extra.” his fingers dip between your thighs for a second, just a tease. checking.

you’re soaked. of course you are.

“oh,” he says. soft surprise. “someone’s enjoying this more than they admit. getting all squirmy and wet from spanking? you really are spoiled.”

you huff. “shut up.”

smack.

“try again.”

“i’m sorry” you say, quick, not really meaning it yet.

he hums. “not convincing.”

two more. steady. deliberate.


your ass feels like it’s on fire now but the ache between your legs is worse.

you push back against his hand. can’t help it.

“gojo—”

“uh-uh. full name when you’re in trouble,” he says, playful, he’s enjoying this way too much. but his palm lands again anyway.

you whimper. actual whimper.

he pauses, leans down. breath warm against your ear.

“there we go” he murmurs. “that’s the sound i wanted.

his hand slides up your spine, then back down. cups your cheek. squeezes. he hooks your underwear, tugging them down just a bit, exposing more skin. the cool air hits your ass, making you get goosebumps.

“satoru…” you start, voice muffled.

“you gonna behave now?” he asks, hand hovering, waiting to slap the shit out of you.

you nod. fast. “yeah. yes. i will.”

he chuckles again. “promise?”

“promise.”

he flips you over easy, like you weigh nothing, pulling you into his lap properly now, your sore ass settling on his thigh.

you wince, shifting carefully because your ass is still throbbing a little.

“hurts?” he asks, fake sympathy, thumb brushing your cheek.

“yes, you’re mean.” you grumble, pouting your lips out.

“mean? me?” he feigns innocence, pulling you closer, kissing your forehead. “i’m just looking out for you. can’t have my favourite person running wild.”

his arm wraps around you, one hand sneaking down to rub your sore spot gently, like an apology without saying it. “next time you feel like being a brat, remember this.”

you roll your eyes but lean into him anyway, “my little troublemaker.”

you elbow him lightly. “you’re the worst.”

“i know” he says, grinning wide.

“but behave, or round two.”