➤ your horny boyfriend accidentally waking you up in the middle of the night.
➤ yuji ver. (coming soon!)
it was late at night, around 4:24am. you were out cold, knocked out in sleep yesterday was an extremely stressful day.
though megumi, wasn't asleep, you felt lots of shifting around in the bed. because well megumi was horny, he couldn't sleep. he couldn't get his body it shut down. he couldn't close his eyes and ignore the feeling.
he looked at your sleeping form, you were curled up in a ball, mouth slightly ajar, he thought it was the cutest sight imaginable, but that wasn't the only thing that was in his mind, his dick throbbing painfully in his pants, he needed to release it one way or another.
he was spooning you from behind, your body warmth only making his situation ten times worse. hardness pressing against your ass, each time he shifts, arms wrapped around you from behind, his face buried in the back of your neck, he closes his eyes again. trying to fall asleep.
but fuck, he needs to be relieved.
you mumble something megumi couldn't make out. falling deeper into sleep, he untangles himself from the grasp sitting up, sweat forming on his forehead.
he's so fucked.
he shifts further away from you on the bed, trying to be somewhat respectful but nothing about what he's about to do is respectful.
his hand finds his way into his pants before he could stop it, tugging at his boxers to pull them down just enough for his cock to spring free, he wraps his hand around the base, stroking slowly. starting from the tip, he doesn't want to wake you up, he's trying his best to be quiet. to hold in his noises but fuck it's so hard when he's so pent up like this.
he quickens his pace, spitting into his palm before stroking the shaft, tip leaking precum all over his palm, his hips buck into his hand, seeking the quick release, "nnnngh..."
you frown in your sleep, hearing the low whimper, mumbling something that sounds like "megumi?" before falling back into your deep slumber.
"fuck, fuck, fuck... y/n please." he moans your name in an attempt to be quiet, his head tips back against the headboard, eyes rolling back when his hand moves at a quicker pace, his hips buck uncontrollably into his palm, imagining it's your hand instead of his.
your eyes snap open in alarm at the sound of your name, quickly sitting up in a rush, to see megumi jerking off just right next to you.
what the hell?
"gumi?" you question slowly, his eyes snap back open, hand still wrapped around his cock, "fuck! fuck baby go back to sleep." he stops his movements, on his girth. "you kind of woke me up..." you look down at his hand on his cock, tip leaking precum on the bed sheets, and all over his palm. "i'm sorry baby. go back to sleep i'll go to the bathroom."
you grab his arm, before he could leave. "wait. do you want help?" you question, still eyeing down his cock, he looks at you like you just said you've committed murder. "well did i say something wrong?" he shakes his head instantly, "no!" he pauses, hand still on his girth, "i mean, i just wasnt expecting you to want to help me, that's all. you don't have to if you don't wanna." you roll your eyes, grabbing his hand away from his cock, replacing it with your own, "you needy little thing." he moans once he feels your palm on his girth, it feels perfect, the warmth of your hand gliding up and down his shaft feels like heaven.
"don't stop... please." he whimpers, hips bucking into your palm. his head falls against the headboard eyes practically hitting in the back of his head, "aaah... baby so good." you quicken the pace of your movements, your hand gliding along his girthy cock, pre-cum pooling all over your palm.
"you're doing so good f'me gumi." you urge him on, just the simple sound of your voice spurs him on, "shut up... just shut up." he says weakly. before it quickly turns into a cry of pleasure. his hips buck faster into your hand, signaling he's close to release.
"you gonna cum f'me baby?" he nods, tugging you closer. into a kiss, you melt into it immediately swallowing his pleas, and moans, his tongue finds yours, before slowly pushing the wet warmth down your throat, deepening the kiss. you slowly feel the change in control just by the way he's kissing you, your movements on his cock slow down a bit, attention focused solely on the feeling of his mount on yours.
his cock pulses around your hand, hips still bucking desperately. trying to get the most friction he can, you both pull back from the kiss panting, heavily "how close are you gumi?" he bucks his hips faster into your palm, head tipping back against the headboard, "really fucking close..." you stop your movements completely, pulling your hand away. to bring your head down between his thighs instead, he goes to process, though you quickly shut him up with the warmth of your mouth on his girth.
he whimpers your name immediately, his hands find their way to your hair, pulling gently at the top he needs something to hold on, something to tell him this is real.
you hollow your cheeks, hands stroking what can't fit in your mouth, he bucks his hips making you gag a little at the intrusion, though your throat constricts around his girth, pre-cum pooling all over your tongue you massage his thighs, slowly he moans out loudly holding your head down as his orgasm approaches quickly.
you choke, gagging on his large shaft, eyes watering but you don't pull away, "i'm so close..." he moans out. his hips lose their rhythm, just fucking up into your throat before you feel the pulse of his cock on your tongue his orgasm crashing over him, his vision flashing white, cumming down your throat, with a salty musky taste, a hint of sweetness fills your tastebuds you quickly gulp it down, before pulling away slowly, saliva still connected to his cock.
"you okay?" he questions softly, his voice hoarse, "yeah i'm okay gumi." you kiss his inner thigh before sitting up, "i think we should get cleaned up and wash the sheets yeah?" you nod.
"next time don't wake me up with your hormones, i won't always relive them y'know." he rolls his eyes, "i know that idiot." he runs a hand through your hair gently, "and to be fair, i didnt wake you up on purpose."
"yeah, yeah. let's clean the sheets and ourselves." he brushes a strand of hair out of your face, "i'll take care of the mess baby. i made it after all you just lay there and look pretty."
there definitely was another mess made after that statement.
Thinking about kissing Bakugo’s scars on his body.
Such a tease you are SUCH A DAMN TEASE.
“Are you…finished.”
“Mmhm…” Your hums vibrates against his warm honey’d abs, “12…I gatta count them all ‘Suki you said i can.”
You were ganna be the death of this man. His hands already began to pop little explosions onto your sheets, you didn’t care though you planned on getting new ones anyway.
All because he told you yes without thinking.
Batting your lashes at him while he was minding his business working on an essay you asked if you could count all his scars …
“For your Anatomy class.”
“We are learning about how the skin get affected by burns and cuts and I just…wanted to use you as my reference.”
“…okay..?”
Now he’s splayed on the couch, half naked and half of his body about to fall off because he keeps squirming with you hovering over him.
Your mouth was cold compared to his body, you even kissed the scar above his left nipple for way longer than he anticipated, almost earning a moan out of him.
“This is now how you’re supposed to count—-aaah fuck—-“
“Hush before i lose count.”
Bakugo was not only ticklish, but sensitive, when you placed your soft lips on his thighs his eyes rolled back a little. He was far too familiar with this position; your huge ass in the air, back arched, and those fucking big doe eyes of yours when you kiss higher up.
But of course the tease you are you stop and trail up his pelvis.
“Your body is so perfect..”
“C’mon stop!” The sudden compliment flustered the poor boy, an awkward shift on his back left you to kiss his cheek.
“Sorry, boo…I’m almost done. promise.”
“Stop talking like that.”
“Like what?”
Bakugo had a mind to flip over and put you on your stomach and fuck you but he knew this game. It’s just what you want and he had to resist you just this once for teasing him.
You shake your ass little when kissing up his chest, his eyes immediately locked onto the shape and straining to look away he wipes his face to focus on trying to resist you.
“Alright…” He grumbles, grabbing your arms, attempting to get up, but you pushed him back down.
“Let me finish.”
He looks at you blankly, fighting back to bite his lip he surrenders and holds his hands up to fall back on the couch arm rest, without words you continued to “count” his scars.
At this point he just admired you, maybe it was you kind of bossing him around that turned him on, maybe it was your tone, maybe it was your his shirt now risen up to your back and exposing your pretty ass panties showing nothing, but your ass and pussy in the mirror across from him he can’t look away from but the moment you reach up to the scar on his lip he was in fact going to fold and give you just what you want.
a/n - aaah hi !! it’s been so long since i’ve written a full fic im sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth. life has sucked but i’m back!! it’s been far too long since i’ve posted a sam smut so hehe i hope you guys like this. took me way too long to write a sex curse fic lmao. but i hope you enjoy !! leaving feedback on fics is the world to fic writers :)
cws - fem!reader, 8k words, friends to lovers, smut, sex curse, witchcraft, wet dream, brief jacking off, p in v, riding, missionary, size kink ish, a lot of cum, needy and kinda whiny sam, flirty rowena, big brother dean, feverish sam, brief cage/lucifer mentions
other fics can be found on my masterlist
“Shit- ah fuck,” Sam grunted with the next roll of his hips, the warmth around his cock so euphoric it was a wonder he didn’t cum right then. There was a haziness in the room, a strange atmosphere that in the moment he hadn’t thought to question. A bed he didn’t recognise, sheets too plain and walls even plainer, but his focus was solely on her beneath him.
Which led to the other strange thing he hadn’t thought to question — they hadn’t done this before. But his best friend was underneath him and the tight warmth of her cunt sucking him back in with every thrust just felt so right.
“So good, that’s so good, honey.”
Her fingers were in his hair and she just kept whimpering his name in a tone that made his cock throb harder, arousal curling deeper. His hands were tight around her hips as his own rolled again and again, pressing harder inside of her in a way that made both of their breaths shudder.
“Sam- m’so close,” she whined, her breath hot against his cheek, her grip tighter in his hair. The smell of her skin was addictive, his head tipped forwards to nose his way up her throat, her pulse throbbing in the side of her neck. “Gonna cum- Sam-”
A low groan left his throat as his hips rolled forwards into the lumpy mattress beneath him, spilling into his boxers.
It took him a moment to grow coherent enough to realise exactly what predicament he was in. Breathing heavily into the pillow Sam blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the sight of his motel room, the empty bed he was in. There was a burning tingling shame that spread right down to his stomach when he realised he’d had a wet dream about his best friend.
“What the fuck?” He breathed out hard as he sat up, and was relieved as he glanced across the room to see that Dean’s bed was empty and that he hadn’t been caught doing… whatever that was.
Sam wasn’t stupid, he was painfully aware of the feelings he had for her, the feelings that had been simmering for years. But what was he supposed to do? Even in the extremely unlikely case that she did feel the same, it wasn’t like acting on those feelings was a good idea. Nothing ever went well for him, it’d just be another thing he ended up losing one way or another. So he’d tried to shove it as far down as he could.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to deal with it before. There had been a few times that he’d had his fist around his cock after a long day of trying to ignore how close they’d been throughout the day when he’d thought of her, jacked off and thought of what she’d feel like or sound like beneath him, but each time he’d grown so shameful of what he’d been doing that he’d turned himself off completely and went to bed hard and uncomfortable.
But this? This was so much worse than that.
Sam grimaced as he pushed the covers off and felt the now cooling cum in his boxers, the fabric sticking to his skin, and so fucking embarrassed he quickly got up and went into the bathroom, once again glad that his brother wasn’t in the room.
He pulled off his shirt and stepped out of his boxers, a mental note to go to the laundromat later that day appearing in his head as he caught sight of the mess in his pants, then started the shower and stepped in beneath the spray of water.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Sure, he was a guy, he’d had wet dreams before, but not since he was a teenager and certainly never about her.
It had seemed so real. Her panted breaths against his neck with each thrust of his hips, the way her pussy had clenched so deliciously tight around his cock anytime his tip kissed her cervix, the way she’d moaned his name.
Sam huffed out a sharp breath through his nose when he realised he was already hard again.
“What the fuck?” He hissed, voice hidden beneath the sound of water hitting the tile. “Jesus Christ. Cut it out.”
His hand found his cock anyways, so hard he was fucking aching, and he took a few minutes to jack himself off to the memory — the not even real memory — of her beneath him until he was groaning deep in his throat and cumming onto the shower floor.
His hand reached up to turn the temperature dial all the way around to cold and he finished up in there as quick as he could, heart still thumping.
Pull it together.
It didn’t take long to pack up his stuff after his shower, but by the time Dean returned with coffee for the three of them Sam was hot. Not hot like he’d worked up his temperature by moving around the room, but like the warmth was sitting beneath his skin like a fever. The back of his neck was sweaty and his hair was sticking to his forehead, and as he took one of the to-go cups from his brother Dean frowned at him.
“You okay, Sammy?” He asked. “Looking a little pale.”
“Fine,” Sam waved him off as he grabbed his bags and moved towards the door. He was hard again, which was all he could focus on, frustration simmering with the heat. “Just wanna get on the road—”
He pulled the door open and stood face to face with her, and his jaw clenched as his cock throbbed.
“Hey,” she smiled sweetly, dodging past him to take one of the cups from Dean too. “My stuff’s in the car. Are we going?”
Sam hadn’t moved, shoulders stiff and throat dry as he stared at her. She looked like she usually did, if not a little worn down from yesterday's hunt, and maybe that was the worst part — nothing was different so what the hell was wrong with him? He’d become an expert at shoving away his feelings. There had been multiple occasions where she literally had her shirt off in front of him so he could patch up an injury and his eyes had never wandered further than necessary, respectful in the way he touched her and looked at her and thought of her. So now? He felt like a fucking pervert. She was his best friend.
“Hello? Earth to Sam?” Dean waved a hand so close to his face that he flinched and glared at his brother. “You get out the wrong side of the bed or something?”
At the mention of the bed and the thought of what he’d done that morning Sam glared harder, her eyes on him like a red hot laser and he didn’t dare look at her then. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck and he felt so uncomfortable and so fucking hard that he just wanted the ground to open up beneath him and swallow him whole.
“I’m fine,” he grit out. “Can we just go?”
Being in the car made everything so much worse.
The only saving grace was that he didn’t have to look at her, but her voice floating up from the backseat and the smell of her perfume was enough. Each bump in the road made him shift in his seat, achingly hard and pressed against the zipper of his jeans. He’d had to discreetly palm himself through the denim just to try and get some sort of relief a few times when Dean wasn’t looking.
When the heat didn’t die down he’d come to the conclusion that he must’ve been harbouring a fever. Since getting in the car he’d shed his flannel to just be left in his t-shirt and rolled the window all the way down, and though the wind blowing his hair back was nice he was still fucking hot.
“Dude,” Dean knocked his knee against his and he flinched, glancing up at his face. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look…”
“Like shit?” Sam scoffed when his brother nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.” His eyes flickered up to the mirror and his jaw clenched at the sight of her in the back.
“Are you sure? You don’t look fine,” his brother pushed. “I told you we should’ve double checked what that witch did yesterday.”
For the past few days they’d been tracking a coven of witches across three separate towns. Ten different murders, all husbands, all mysteriously died in front of their partners. It hadn’t taken all that long to figure out that it was witchcraft when they’d found hexbags in most of the houses. Bitter with the loss of their own lovers they’d gone on a killing spree and caught too much attention.
The last of the witches they’d put down in the basement of the house they’d been camped out in had at one point shoved Sam up against the wall, gripped his throat so tightly he couldn’t breathe, and had murmured an incantation he hadn’t been able to make out through the ringing in his ears. There had been a hot pressure in his chest that started spreading outwards, but a moment later Dean had shot her in the back and she’d died right in front of him. The magic couldn’t have lingered if she was dead, could it?
“She died, Dean, you killed her,” Sam murmured, clenched his teeth tight when Baby hit a pothole and his cock was momentarily pressed harder against his zipper as he was jerked slightly in his seat. “Just feel a little hot. I’m fine.”
His head tipped to the side to watch out of the window as he did his best to ignore it, ignore how it felt — the simmering beneath his skin was a heat he’d only felt once, and he wasn’t eager to think about his time in the cage.
The heat only continued to get worse somehow. The only rational explanation he could think of was that he’d run himself down after back-to-back cases and was a little under the weather. He did not, however, have an explanation for the way the heat seemed to simmer worse whenever he looked at her, heart thumping and arousal curling deeper into his gut whenever she spoke.
They got to their next motel just before sunset, with the intent of getting a good night’s sleep before either finding another case in the morning or just heading back to the bunker. If he was being honest Sam just wanted his bed at home, but he didn’t really have the energy to argue with his brother, not when every single thought in his head was swirling over how he felt, over her.
The other two were talking as Sam forced himself to get out of the car, too focused on the drumming pulse in his ears to listen to what they were saying, so when he rounded the car towards the trunk and a hand landed on his arm he jumped at the burn. White hot like electricity. He flinched and his eyes shot up to meet her eyes, which were quickly growing concerned.
“Sam?” She frowned, and his eyes locked onto the plush of her lips. He knew they’d feel good against his, soft and warm, the little ‘o’ shape they’d make as she moaned underneath him— “Sam? Are you okay?”
Guilt flooded him immediately and he forced his gaze away. What was wrong with him? He couldn’t just think about her like that, it was disgusting.
He didn’t even utter an excuse, just quickly rushed into the room before he could make things worse.
“Sam?” Dean had followed him in and Sam grit his teeth. He’d been planning on sorting himself out in the shower again, at this point it was legitimately a necessity. “What the hell is up with you? You ignored her the whole drive-“ he cut himself off when Sam turned to face him. “What’s wrong?”
There wasn’t even any point in insisting he was fine anymore. The heat just kept getting hotter, he felt sweaty and weird and still thinking about that dream. “I just… have a fever.”
Dean scowled as he stepped forwards and reached up to touch Sam’s forehead, even as he tried to bat his hand away. “Why didn’t you say anything in the car? You’re burning up, man,” there was a pause before he sighed. “Call Rowena.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because what happened yesterday isn’t sitting right with me and if anyone can make sure that witch didn’t do something to you it’s her.”
Even through the simmering beneath his skin Sam’s lips twitched. “You’re willingly asking me to call Rowena?”
“She’s still a bitch but she can be useful sometimes,” Dean rolled his eyes. “Just call her.”
Much to Sam’s dismay and an I told you so from Dean, Rowena also suspected that something was wrong after Sam called and explained his symptoms — well, not all of them, he didn’t dare mention the dream or his problem — and cut the call off with a chirpy confirmation that she’d get to him as quickly as she could.
It was dark out by the time Rowena got there. All of the windows in the room had been opened as wide as they could in hopes that the cold night air would do something to help the fire in his veins, but nothing was helping. His chest had tightened with the rising heat, there was absolutely no doubt that something was wrong.
“Well aren’t you a… sight.” Rowena hummed as soon as she stepped through the door, taking her time like she was just there for tea. The silk of her dress caught in the draft from the open door, blowing forwards with a harshness that should have been brought with cold. Sam didn’t feel it, the wind that hit his skin did nothing to soothe the burn. If not for the fact that she was visiting he would’ve stripped down to his boxers already.
He stood from where he’d been perched on the edge of his bed, fists clenched tight. “Rowena-”
“Calm down,” she raised a hand as she closed the door behind her. “I’m here to help, aren’t I?” Another gust of wind blew through the open windows and she pulled a face. “My it’s cold in here, isn’t it?”
“No,” Sam grit out, chest heaving with heavy breaths as he watched her step forwards. It had become harder to ignore the worse it got, the memory of the cage, what Lucifer had done to him. Burned his skin until it was all gone and then healed him to start all over again. The smell of his own flesh was something he was never going to forget, part of him kept expecting to look down and see his arms on fire. But they weren’t, like some cruel trick on his mind. If not for Dean noticing that something was wrong he would’ve been convinced that he was going crazy again. “It’s hot, I’m hot, I can’t fucking cool down it feels like I’m on fire.”
Rowena’s tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth as she came to a stop directly in front of him. “Hm. Take your shirt off.”
“Huh?”
Her eyes rolled. “I need to see if you have any magic attached to you, and it’s easier without your clothes in the way,” perfectly manicured nails dragged against the fabric of his t-shirt before she smirked. “Trust me, I don’t mind.”
Maybe he wouldn’t have been so quick to agree on a regular day, especially with her looking at him like that, but he was both desperate for this to be over and also used to Rowena being Rowena, so there wasn’t much hesitation as he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, dropping it down onto the floor.
Rowena made a show of looking him over, lips curled upwards at the corners.
“Rowena-”
“Alright, Samuel,” she sighed. “Forgive me for finding some enjoyment in the situation. Sit.” Her hand pressed to his chest and he flinched, expecting to feel the same burn that he’d felt from her earlier that day when she’d touched his arm, but Rowena’s palm felt cool against his flushed skin. It was actually nice, and he breathed out shakily as he allowed himself to be pushed backwards until he was seated on the edge of the mattress.
Rowena stepped forwards until she was stood between his legs, and then her hand was on his chest again. A pressure pushed through his ribs and he stiffened in the effort to keep still and let her search for any lingering magic attached to him. His eyes lifted to her face and he watched as her expression went from focused, to shocked, to… amused?
“Your symptoms,” she met his eyes as she pulled her hand back. “Tell me.”
“I’ve already told you-”
“Tell me again.”
Sam huffed out a frustrated breath and pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m hot, it feels like I’m burning from the inside out.”
She just continued to watch him.
“What?” He didn’t mean to snap but he was seriously losing his patience.
“Your other symptoms?” He opened his mouth to protest but she held up a hand. “Just be honest, Samuel. I think I know what the curse is.”
His jaw clenched. He’d never actually vocalised his crush to anybody before. Sure, maybe Dean wasn’t completely oblivious to have not noticed, but he’d never outright admitted it.
“I had this… dream, uh,” he ran a hand over his face, the heat in his cheeks now from embarrassment. “And it kinda stuck with me.”
Rowena was smirking. “And what was the nature of this wee dream, hm?”
He glowered at her. “I’m sure you know.”
“Oh I do, but it’s way more fun if you tell me,” he just continued glaring and she sighed. “You boys just have to suck the fun out of everything, don’t you?” She moved to sit on the bed beside him, and after adjusting her dress over her legs she turned to face him. “It’s called mali desiderii.”
“What does that mean?”
Her lips twitched again, like she was really trying to be serious. “It’s a curse that attaches itself to your deepest desire and makes you, well, want it.”
Sam swallowed around the dryness in his throat. “How dangerous is it?”
Rowena lifted a hand to gently circle her fingers around his wrist, her cool fingertips pressed against his pulse point felt nice. “You’re already burning up, and it’s only going to get worse. Unless you sate the desire, you’ll completely burn up from the inside out.”
He felt his stomach drop. “It’ll kill me?”
“Mhm, in a day or so, unless you deal with your little… problem,” She gestured to his jeans with a wicked smirk that made him want the ground to open up beneath him, before she sighed, a more genuine expression settling on her features. “Sam… she’s next door.” Her hand laid on his arm though that time he stiffened.
“I can’t just—”
“It doesn’t matter if you can’t. You’re going to have to,” she told him firmly, before her lips curved upwards again. “You never know, it might be something the both of you need. She’s smart, Samuel. If a big strong man came knocking on my door asking me to help him out, I’d… well, like I said, she’s smart.”
He grit his teeth and breathed out sharply. This was so stupid. She was his best friend, he couldn’t just turn up at her door and demand to have sex with her. “Isn’t there a cure or something?”
“This is the only way,” Rowena didn’t give him much time to think on it before her hand was on her knee, squeezing, then she stood up. “You’ll be fine. Trust me, out of all the things you could’ve been cursed with, this is definitely the most… pleasurable.”
At her smirk his stomach twisted uncomfortably, but still he stood up to let her out of the room. He didn’t bother to put his shirt back on, stood in the doorway as he watched Rowena climb into her car — a Porsche that he was certain didn’t belong to her the last time they spoke — the breeze of the night doing absolutely nothing to cool him down. As she pulled out of the parking lot he’d had a mind to go and tell Dean what was wrong, but he paused when his eyes landed on her door next to his.
Sate the desire, Rowena had said. Maybe on a typical day he wouldn’t have wanted to even approach the topic with her, save himself a lifetime of embarrassment when she inevitably turned him down, but this was his only shot. And the thought of finally having her was enough for his body to roll with another wave of aroused heat.
“Fucking crazy,” he breathed, hand lifting to knock on the door once he was stood in front of it. “This is fucking crazy.”
The door opened relatively quick and then there she was. She’d changed into her pyjamas since getting to the motel, a t-shirt and shorts that left him unable to help his gaze dragging up the length of her legs, imagining dipping between them. She really wasn’t making this fucking easy for him, was she?
“Sam?” She blinked, worried eyes widening as her gaze dragged downwards, and embarrassed he remembered he hadn’t put his shirt back on. Christ, this probably looked like the opening to a shitty porno. By the sounds of it, that’s how it was going to end up. Either that or he was going to die.
“Sorry,” he quickly blurted out, chest heaving with heavy breaths as his eyes fell down away from her face, before he caught himself staring at her legs and he had to look back up digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. Get a grip. “Sorry, uh… can I talk to you?”
Instantly she stepped aside. “Are you okay? Why was Rowena here?”
His teeth ground together with the realisation that Dean hadn’t told her that anything was wrong, either not to worry her or because he was just leaving it to Sam he wasn’t sure. He stepped into her room and exhaled sharply. The heat was getting bad, hands trembling as he pushed sweaty hair out of his face and turned back to face her.
“Sam you don’t look so good,” her eyebrows were pinched together in such worry. “Can I get you anything? Do you want some water? You look a little sick, you sit down and I’ll just-”
“It’s a curse,” he just got out. “One of the witches yesterday cursed me. That's why Rowena was here.”
She looked… god, the look on her face, she looked so devastated for him. “I- cursed? How bad is it? Are you okay?” She rushed forwards and touched his arm sympathetically, and usually it would’ve been nice — she was sweet, she was always physically affectionate but always more so with him than Dean. There had been many times they’d held hands on a hunt when either one of them was unnerved, or on nights where they could only get a motel with two beds or had to sleep in the car she always chose to sleep with him. Curled up with no choice but to hold each other in a small twin bed or the backseat of the Impala he’d always felt comfortable with her.
But her touch then on his arm, it felt like being singed. He jerked backwards and hated the way she looked at him when he did it. “Sorry,” he breathed her name like a plea, the last thing he wanted was to make her feel bad with what he was about to ask of her. “I’m… hot. The curse is burning me up and if I don’t do something about it then I’ve… got a day.”
“A day?” Her voice broke and it shattered something deep in his soul. “Sam, I… Rowena has a cure right?”
His eyes squeezed shut tightly and he took in a sharp breath. This was it. “It’s a, uh… well, there’s one thing I can do but it’s- I’d be asking a lot of you.”
Her response was immediate. “Anything.”
Steeling himself he finally just pushed out, “it’s a sex curse.”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“It’s a- god, this is so stupid. It’s a sex curse. If I don’t have sex in the next day then I’ll die.” Saying it out loud he realised just how ridiculous it was, how this really was just some fucking stupid porno, something he’d catch Dean quickly shutting off in the motel whenever he got back. “It really is stupid huh? Fuck, I don’t even-”
“Okay.”
It was his turn to blink at her. “What?”
“I said okay,” she hesitated before stepping forwards, like she was expecting him to jerk away from her again. “I’m not gonna let you… the curse isn’t gonna take over, okay? Of all the ways we’ve dealt with curses before this is actually a pretty easy fix.”
He was just staring at her. “But I can’t ask you to-”
“You aren’t asking, I’m offering,” the control in her voice made his cock throb in his jeans and he bit back a groan. It’d be nice to finally get some fucking relief. “This is gonna be easier than you going out to a bar and finding someone, Sam, and I trust you,” a pause then, her voice went softer. “And you trust me. Or at least I hope so.”
“‘Course I do,” he breathed. “But-”
“Sam,” she stepped forwards until she was right in front of him then, until he could smell her perfume and feel her breath hit his chest. “Let me. Please.”
Any restraint he’d been clinging onto snapped in that moment.
Giving in to the curse, at first, felt like being possessed, like watching from inside his body as he acted upon it. His hands cupped her jaw as he stepped closer, tipping down until he caught her mouth with his, hard, all desperation and lust as he licked and sucked at her bottom lip only just hesitating enough to not slip his tongue into her mouth immediately. She was making soft breathy sounds through her nose and it was making everything worse, his veins burned hotter and his cock was so achingly hard that he couldn’t help his hands sliding down to her hips and gripping hard as he started walking them back to her bed.
But he was shaking, his breathing all heavy and hot in his throat, the fever was still clinging to his bones and the curse made it hard to think about anything. His hands had just slipped beneath her shirt when she leaned back with a huff of breath, her palm pressed flat against his chest.
“Sam.” She breathed, heavy but concerned, eyes all soft and crinkled at the corners as she looked up at him.
“Yeah?”
Her fingers travelled down to gently start threading the leather of his belt through his buckle. The sight of her hands so close to where he needed them was almost enough to just cum in his boxers thinking about her. Again.
“Let me… let me take care of you, okay?” She breathed, pulling the belt free and then working open his zipper. “You’re shaking, let me do this,” she leaned forwards and kissed his chest and he shuddered. “Let me help you.”
All he could do was nod dumbly, hands squeezing at her hips as she unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his legs until he could step out of them. She hesitated as he fingers touched the waistband of his boxers, but he nodded, and she pulled those down too.
For a moment he was too distracted by the curse to really take much in, just panting softly as he waited for the inevitable relief. But when he did catch sight of her face, the way her eyes drifted down to his cock, hard and leaking like it had been all day, the way she swallowed, fuck.
“Come here.” He breathed, lustful and needy and possessive all in one, and then his mouth was on hers again as he took the final two steps back to her bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Sam moved to pull her in immediately but she paused to quickly slip her shorts and underwear down her legs, and only then did she let him pull her onto his lap, straddling his thighs.
If he was a little more with it, he’d have felt bad. In all the times he’d thought of being able to finally have her, it had gone differently. He’d been sweet and kissed her softly, taken her to dinner or for some drinks, they’d dressed nice and he’d complimented how pretty she was. He’d been gentle with her, taken his time, hadn’t wanted to rush it. She deserved better than the rushed desperation coursing through his veins, but he couldn’t help himself.
Sam was kissing her again once she was close enough. A hand slid up her back, soft skin beneath his palm, before he gripped her shirt and panted out, “can I take this off?”
Only when she nodded did he grip the hem and lift it up and over her head, dropping it on the floor with the rest of their clothes.
He allowed himself one moment to stare and take her in; chest rising and falling heavily, hardened nipples, soft thighs slotted over his like they belonged, her lips kiss-bitten and wet with their spit. Sam wasn’t entirely sure which part was the most devastating.
“God-” he choked, fingers curling around her hipbones again. “Look at you.”
Her chin tucked towards her chest all bashfully, and for a moment the flicker of guilt touched him. She deserved better than this.
But then her fingers wrapped around his cock and through the white-hot pleasure any other thoughts were wiped from his mind.
A grunt escaped his throat and his eyes squeezed shut, his grip on her hips tightening. “Shit-”
She shifted on top of him, lifting up on her knees to line his cock up with her entrance, and even if the feeling of his tip kissing her folds was enough for his head to spin a little he still stopped her with a squeeze of her hips.
“Are you ready? I mean…” Sam wasn’t stupid. He knew he was big, bigger than most. When he’d been with Jess he’d learned exactly how many fingers he needed to stretch her out before she could comfortably take him. He needed to feel her more than anything but he didn’t want to hurt her.
“It’s okay,” she breathed, and leaned down to kiss him again. “I can take it.”
Her tongue pushed past his lips and he moaned into her mouth as she slowly sank down onto him.
Nothing he had ever felt compared to that moment.
Charged, sparking pleasure exploded in his gut, shooting through his veins making every nerve ending tingle. Fuck. This was the relief he’d been craving, the lust he hadn’t been able to sort out himself with his hand or how much he could imagine in his head.
Her pussy squeezed tightly around him as she sank down slowly and for a moment all he could do was pant into the skin of her neck as he held onto her, grunting into her throat the deeper she took him and the tighter she clenched around him. Once he was sheathed all the way inside of her his breath punched out of him heavily. Somehow he hadn’t blown his load right then.
“You feel-” he whined as she shifted, rubbing against her gummy walks and spending more sparks of pleasure through him, “so fucking good, that’s- yeah, that’s it.”
She shifted again and that time it was her who whined, her palms hot on his shoulders as they grabbed at the muscle there. “Sam,” she breathed his name against his ear. “You’re so deep.”
He had a feeling he’d be getting hard over that sentence for the rest of his life.
“Can I-” her voice was trembling, and when he glanced up at her she looked a fucking picture — eyes all blown out, lips parted and panting, expression pinched in pleasure. “Can I keep moving?”
He couldn’t find his voice so he just nodded, and at the first shift of her hips his eyes rolled back and he moaned.
Time seemed to blur. He found himself able to release the death grip on her hips and instead smoothed his palms over her back, as his head tipped forwards to lick and suck at her neck. He’d never felt anything like this, it was like being high. Each squeeze of her cunt around his cock stole the breath from his lungs, made the magic from the curse flare inside of him in a way that had his hairs standing on end and his cock throbbing where it was held deep inside of her.
Noises were pulled from him without any of his say so. Keening whined and gasps of her name whenever she shifted. Her fingers tangled in his hair at one point and pulled and he almost completely lost it then.
She didn’t seem to be in a different state to him, if he knew any better he’d have said she was cursed from the way she was clinging onto him, panting his name and squeezing his cock inside of her.
This completely blew his dream out of the water.
“Hah- I’m-” It took an embarrassingly short time to get there, but given the heat bubbling inside of him he really did need the release sooner rather than later. “Fuck honey m’gonna cum-”
Her breath was hot on his cheek as her temple pressed to his, hips rolling and cunt squeezing along with her whimpered, “please Sammy.”
Sam watched as her hand dipped between them to rub at her clit with each roll of her hips and with the next time his tip brushed against her cervix he was gone.
He was certain that the sound that left him then he had never made before. Almost animalistic, in any other situation he would’ve found himself embarrassed, but the way pleasure shot up his spine, through his veins, made him shudder and gasp into her throat as his orgasm literally whitened his vision, he wasn’t in control of anything he was doing. It literally took his breath away, made his ears ring, one moment he was holding the back of her neck and kissing at her throat and the next he had his forehead pressed to her shoulder as he heaved breaths against her chest.
She must’ve cum too, not that he’d been able to even realise in the moment, but she’d also slumped into him, arms draped over his shoulders as she melted into him.
For one long moment, it was the best he’d ever felt.
“Hey,” she eventually whispered, leaned back to meet his eyes with hers, all soft and caring. “How do you feel? Did it work?”
“I think so.” He murmured, still trying to catch his breath.
His hands were more gentle on her hips as he helped her move off of him, hissing through his teeth as his cock slipped out of her, though he rubbed her back once she was sat on the bed beside him.
There was a flare inside of his chest, and then it hit him. That time it was almost unbearable, left him breathless with the fire that rolled through him. His eyes squeezed shut and his fists curled up as he winced in pain.
It hadn’t worked.
“Sam?” Her hand burned against his back. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
He couldn’t help it, tears stung in his eyes then. “It didn’t fucking work.”
His breathing was sharp as he looked back up at her then, and the way her expression dropped made everything else sink in. What the fuck was the point of that? Sure, he’d wanted her for a long time, but not like that. She deserved to be taken care of, treated like an angel and kissed sweetly and loved on. Instead she’d had him like that — sweaty and gross and needy — and she’d had to do all the work. Let alone the fact it was all pointless anyways, he was still going to die.
“I thought you said Rowena said it’d work,” she breathed, voice so soft and scared. “What did she say to you? Maybe we did it wrong or something.”
Sam pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes hard, hands shaking. “She said I need to sate my desire.”
She frowned at him then. “That doesn’t mean sex, Sam.”
“Hm?”
“Your… desire, that doesn’t have to mean sex,” she turned to face him a little more. Their lack of clothes and post-orgasm exhaustion was momentarily ignored as her hand found his and squeezed. The heat made his fingers tingle. “It just means what you want the most. And I mean it obviously wasn’t sex with me,” her fingers squeezed his. “So what is it?”
His breath left him in a rush. “You.”
She blinked at him. “But it didn’t-”
“Not the sex,” his hand squeezed hers tightly. “You. You’re my best friend and I… I’m in love with you. I don’t even know when it happened but you’re all I can think about all the time.”
She was just staring at him with those wide eyes of hers, mouth opening and closing a few times before she could actually form a response. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” She eventually pressed, soft.
A bitter laugh left him then. “What would be the point? I care more about you than what I want. I was happy to just stay friends- I am happy to do that,” he pushed out a sharp breath and dragged his fingers through his hair. “But it doesn’t fucking matter anymore. Because it’s not going to happen and I’m going to die.”
“Sam,” her hand gripped his tightly and when he looked up at her face she was scowling. “You’re an idiot.”
Before he could even think of a response she’d leaned in and then her mouth was on his. The kiss was soft, more gentle than their lust fuelled kisses from before, the plus warmth of her lips against his making his gut curl tighter than when she’d been grinding on his cock.
Her forehead pressed to his as she pulled away and her whispered words hit his ears, “I love you too.”
Sam leaned back enough to look at her. “What?” He breathed. “I- don’t just say that because I want to hear it.”
“Sam,” her fingers were gentle as they cupped his face. “I love you.”
The fire disappeared with a tingling hiss like he’d been dunked in ice water. Each heated nerve ending and muscle was instantly soothed with a coolness that made him groan as she kissed him again. Soothing cold ran up the length of his spine, down his arms, into his fingertips as he cupped her face and kissed her, lovingly, his tongue sweeping over her lips and pressing into her mouth saying everything that in that moment he couldn’t.
“God,” he breathed, all shaky, fingers stroking through her hair. “You- how long?”
She giggled as she looked up at him, eyes all crinkled at the corners as she smiled. “A while,” her hand lifted and laid flat on his chest. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” he sighed, fingertips gentle on her skin. “I think it broke it. I think you… you’re incredible.”
Her smile was like the sun. “Ditto.”
Sam laughed, the lightest he’d felt all day, both of them smiling too much when he went to kiss her again and he ended up kissing her teeth. “Ditto? All of that just to get a ditto?”
She was giggling against his mouth as his hands smoothed over soft skin, fingers tracing down her spine as he leaned over her, cupping the backs of her thighs so he could manoeuvre her onto her back. Laid beneath him like that, her pretty eyes and her pretty mouth and all of her that loved him, the feeling pressing against his ribs was no longer a heat, a curse, it was something much more magical.
His head dipped to kiss along her throat as her thighs pressed against his hips, drawing him closer. “I love you,” he whispered into her skin, a promise. “I love you.”
She was still wet from before, her chest brushing against his with each needy pant she made, so it was like second nature for his hand to reach between them until he could press his cock up against her, dragging the tip through her wetness until he caught her entrance and sank in slowly, the grip of her cunt around him making him moan into her throat as his hand found hers, fingers lacing through hers and pressing it down onto the mattress.
“Sam,” she moaned as his hips rolled, his cock nudging that soft spongy spot on the inside of her walls that made her whine when he hit it right. “Oh- fuck that’s-”
His tongue soothed over bruises he was sucking into the skin of her neck as he fucked her into the mattress gently, hands carressing and worshiping her. She deserved better than him, he knew that, deep down he knew she deserved everything he couldn’t give her and more.
But she wanted him. She wanted him. How could he deny her?
He moaned against her ear as he started fucking her a little deeper. His hand slid down her side to cup the back of one of her thighs, bringing it up and over his hip to press further into her slick cunt with each thrust.
There was a haziness in the room, not caused by a veil of a dream or curse, but the kind of desire that made somebody’s head spin with it. The bed beneath them a bare, plain motel standard, wales just as plain, but his focus was solely on her beneath him.
This wasn’t a dream. It was real. He had her.
“Sam I’m-” her voice trembled with each gasp she let out. Her nails dug into his shoulders that sent delicious sparks of pain down his spine where they dug in. Her cunt was clenched tightly around him, he could tell she was close, the way her gummy walls fluttered around his cock each time he sank himself back inside of her. “Please.”
He would do anything for her if she begged him like that.
“You’re okay, honey,” he breathed into her throat with another kiss. The image of their last round briefly flashed in his mind, her fingertips pressed to her clit when she got close, and he removed his hand from her thigh to dip between them. They were both soaked with leftover cum from before and new aroused slick that collected at the base of his cock. His fingers dragged through the wetness briefly before the pads of his fingers pressed against her clit where he started rubbing small circles that made her clench tighter around him, a whine punching up and out of her throat that made his gut clench. Fuck. “That's it, good girl, just feel it.”
Her hands gripped tight to his shoulders and she whined right in his ear. He almost came right then. “I’m- Sam-”
She shuddered against him as she came and Christ. The feeling of her pussy pulsing around his cock in waves as her orgasm dragged a breathless moan out of her throat was too much for him to handle. He only managed two more thrusts before he followed her, groaning into her skin as he rutted twice more into her before finally stilling on top of her.
For a moment, time didn’t move.
His fingers stroked feather-light up and across her ribs as he dotted kisses against her neck and jaw, until he finally lifted his head to press a soft kiss to her mouth.
“Hi.” She whispered when he leaned back and he smiled, a sweet loving thing.
“Hi, you,” he murmured, stroking her ribs. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, all flushed as she stole another kiss, her fingers stroking his hair made him relax. A thought nagged at him that he was sweaty and gross and he sighed, expression shifting to something a little more serious.
“I’m sorry.”
She frowned at him. “For what? Sam that was… that was great.”
He shook his head. “You should’ve had something better. I’m… I’m gross and sweaty and it was so rushed and I should’ve taken my time with you and… I’m just sorry.”
Her hand lifted to cup his cheek. “Don’t say that,” she leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and he just about melted. “We broke the curse. I just saved your life, mister, I think that’s pretty great to me.”
He was still frowning. “I know but-”
“Sam,” Her finger pressed to his lips. “It was good. I promise.”
She kissed him again, soft and slow and gentle, and time melted again.
Eventually they pulled away from each other, and since he hadn’t taken care of her in the moment, he made sure to completely care for her in the aftermath. He got a wet cloth from the bathroom and gently wiped her clean before himself, and kissed her forehead before he left again to run the shower for her so that the water would be nice and warm by the time she stepped in. There was a relaxing domesticity to the way they stepped around each other with gentle shared kisses and whispered comforts until she took up the shower first.
Once the room was full of the scent of her shampoo and the gentle pitter of the shower on the other side of the bathroom door he found his phone and thought it was best he told Rowena it had worked.
“Samuel,” she greeted in that delighted tone of hers she had whenever they spoke. “How's the heat?”
“The uh, the curse is broken. I’m fine now.”
He could picture her grin through the phone. “Marvellous. I knew you could do it. It hasn’t been that long since I left, dearie, she must’ve been quite eager to help.”
He ignored the heat that rose to his face. “Yeah, well… thanks for your help, Ro.”
“You’re welcome, pet. I got started on the cure just in case you didn’t have it in you so I’ll send it your way once I’m finished in case you happen to ever need it.”
Sam stilled. “You told me there wasn’t a cure.”
“Aye, I suppose I did. It’s a pretty simple potion, actually. I just thought this way would be a little more… beneficial for you and your love.”
“Rowena-”
“I’ve got to go now, Samuel, but I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
The line went dead and he lowered his phone, sitting with what she’d just told him for a moment, that there had been a cure, a simple one. But then his eyes trailed up to the closed bathroom door, the soft humming behind it reaching his ears, and he just laughed.
if you’d like to be added to my tag list pls send me an ask letting me know what fics you’d like to be tagged for <3
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖Dad!Satoru brought a singing cactus to his son.
── .✦ What a great idea your husband had. Buy a singing cactus to your son.
"I bought something." Satoru comes striding toward the living room.
You were with your son watching over as he was in the playpen with his toys, that Satoru made sure to every single toy your son puts the eyes on, even though he doesn't play with it more than twice.
As you lift you eyes to see his figure coming from the hallway, you spot a weird animated castus in a plant vase. Knowing very well what that toy was by the multiple videos that you and Satoru saw in the internet, you look up to his face deadpan amused with his plan.
"You know that if he cries you will be with him until he stops crying and you make him go to sleep, right?" Raise a brow to him, with a questioning look.
"Trust the process." This was his only response, as he low his head so you can see his eyes through the his sunglasses glistening with a playfulness.
"Sure." And all you do is roll your eyes, knowing very well that smirk would vanish soon.
Aside in the playpen, your son was still distracted playing.
But as his dad aproached him he looked up, and a cute, gummy smile spreads across his face.
He was happy his dad has arrived back. This happiness didn't last much.
"Hi, baby bear~." Your husband cooed, happy to see his son too, but also acting innocent, as if he's not planning to prank the baby at all.
"Look what what dad brought to you~." He showed the singing cactus to your son, and the baby's eyes wide and sparkled with a new toy being presenting to him.
He crawled towards his father to get a closer look at the singing 'cursed' toy. And Taking advantage of the situation, Satoru turned on the toy.
"Ah." Your husband made a sound to test and make the baby curious to do it also.
"Ah!" The cactus imitates the sound with a high pitch.
Quirking your eyebrows, you press your lips together, suppressing a huffed laugh.
As if wasn't possible, your son's eyes wided even more, with his mouth slightly agape in a 'o' shape.
Satoru puts the Cactus on the floor of the playpen for him.
"Aah." Your smile grows tender as he makes a cute baby sound trying to copy his dad.
"Aaah!" Then he let out a shriek, making you sigh knowing what's next.
As expected, the Cactus make a loud noise that made your child jump in fright.
For a moment there was just silence. Suddenly your son whirled around crawling to your direction, with his eyes welling and lower lip trembling.
You knew it.
He let out a loud cry almost screaming. Notice how he can be dramatic just like his father?
"Oh baby.~" You cooed with pitty, but your lip was trembling trying not to laugh out loud in the baby's face.
Satoru just watched the scene with a grin and burst out laughing.
And suddenly he feels a weight being placed against him and he raises his arms to hold it.
It was his son cryin very loudly and very dramatically in the Gojo way.
His laugh faltered as he realized he had to deal with the consequences.
"I told you. Byee~" You wave him goodbye going upstairs to your room with a smirk and a playful glisten in your eyes just like he did before.
"Sweetheart!" He calls out with with a desolate look.
"You're so mean to me." He pouted, before having to calm down the baby in his arms.
He always regret.
Note⋆˚꩜｡ ﾟ.+:｡∩(・ω・)∩ﾟ.+:｡ tadaah. I don't know what to say. Byee.
⋆˚✿˖° Do you guys want me to put the name for our son with Satoru? The most voted name was Haru.
And the name kaoru was the second it wasn't supposed to be this name it was supposed to be Hikaru. But I got the names confused. If you know you know.
꒰ྀི১ ໒꒱ིྀ CREDITS to the artist @KishuToo on X by the way, beautiful.‼️
♡₊˚ 🍪 Please do not copy, repost, or translate this work.
who?! in which boyfriend!gojo reacts to your ex texting you
It was another lovely day out with your boyfriend Satoru Gojo. The sun was out, the birds were chirping, and you were sat in your favourite café, making jokes only the two of you would understand, admiring his handsome face because how the hell did you get this lucky.
A perfect day, really.
Satoru had just gone over to the counter to order another slice of cake, and you thought you'd just quickly check your phone while you waited, thinking nothing of it.
A grave mistake, however, because the first notification you saw had your stomach dropping and your face grimacing.
Your ex. The one who broke your heart over text years ago and thought just now was a good time to reach out again.
Your fingers gripped the phone so tight they turned white.
"Sweetheart? You ok?" called your white haired boyfriend, voice already full of concern just seeing your expression. He settled the plate on the table and immediately leaned over your shoulder, blinking at the screen you were turning towards him. "Who's that?" he squinted.
You exhaled sharply, placing your phone back down with a thud. "My ex" you groaned, rolling your eyes so hard they practically drifted to the back of your skull.
"Oooohh?" Satoru's interest was quickly peaked, and his bright smile turned just a little unhinged. "And what did he want?" he asked in a monotone, pretending to be all nice.
You squinted your eyes at him, noticing the weirdly mechanical voice and the tightness around his jaw. All the while those bright blue eyes stayed locked on yours, blinking in anticipation for what you were about to reveal.
And Satoru was smiling, sure, but something about how his face was frozen in place made him look more like a bad version of the joker than your sweet boyfriend.
It was a little unsettling, really.
Especially because if there was one thing your boyfriend was, was confident. Annoyingly so, even.
He wouldn’t really be jealous over a text message, surely?
"Asked if I want to get a coffee" you explained. "Unbelievable"
"Coffee, huh?" Satoru echoed, and you could see his blue eyes had practically turned murderous. "What does he mean by coffee?" he scoffed.
"Toru" you rose an eyebrow at him. "You're not jealous, are you?"
"Jealous? Me?" he mocked, but the way his voice rose two octaves fooled no one. "Why would I be jealous?"
"Mmh I don't know, you sound pretty–" you were interrupted by the scraping sound of his chair dragging across the café floor to settle right next to yours, so close your thighs brushed under the table.
"Because you're not going, right?" he asked, leaning forwards so close you could see every detail of his handsome face.
You didn't think you had ever seen him so worried before.
"No, Toru" you leaned back, amused. "Of course I'm not going"
"Then why would I be jealous?" he reasoned, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you in close. Like he was trying to merge your two bodies together right here in the middle of this crowded café.
"Toru" you laughed, struggling to move your arms while held in place in your boyfriends tight embrace. "I can't eat like this"
"I'll feed you, princess" he announced, promptly taking a slice of cake and bringing the fork to your lips. "Say aaah"
"Satoru Gojo" you reprimanded, and he quickly placed the fork down all guilty. "You are not feeding me in public"
Satoru pouted, playing with the cake. "Does that mean I can do it in private?" he teased.
"I swear to god" you shook your head, at least letting out a much needed laugh.
"I just want you to know I'd do anything for you" Satoru said quickly, turning your chair around so you'd see the earnestness in his eyes. "Even feed you cake"
"Toru" you kissed his cheek, feeling his muscles finally begin to relax against your lips. "I already know that"
"Yeah?" he asked, voice all dreamy, leaning further into you.
"Of course" you reassured. "There's no need to be jealous"
"I'm not jealous" he scoffed again, though his arm gripped your shoulder just a little tighter.
"Sure" you placed another welcome kiss right on his handsome cheek.
caleb has an instinctual need to mark his territory. always just fucking wants her— anywhere at any given time.
she can sense it coming from a mile away, that desire that tugs on his heart. the taste of the air changes, much like when rain is approaching on a hot summer afternoon. it sits heavy on the tongue.
right now, he has her spread open onto the hood of his car in the garage, door still open and just begging for someone to come and see his defiling of her. dares them to.
it shakes the car back and forth with every time he buries his aching cock inside of her, juices slobbering around their connection. just how it likes it. messy. filthy.
he requires it to be dirty, like an animal. needs to pull her stitches out one by one until she’s coming apart at the seams.
he’s urinating inside, full stream charging straight into her and she can’t turn the tide as he pins her there. her cries are loud and murderous, ankles pressing him even deeper as they lock behind his lower back. can even feel his muscles work under her bare heels.
“shh. just let it take.”
she’s muffled by his palm clasping over her mouth, panting as he rubs her clit torturously. her hips are rolling to create more friction as he pounds his piss into her. warm liquid rains out, the front of his car absolutely disgusting.
“aaah shit, feel that? going so deep into this stomach. feels so fucking good, pips. gonna cum…”
and he does, within the depths of her being. every iota of her is soaked in his fluids.
she whines with her mouth slack open, choking as he wraps his fingers around her neck and yanks it at an angle to where he can spit into her mouth real good. she creams around his dick when the glob of his saliva hits the back of her throat. screaming doesn’t capture just how loud she’s moaning his name.
“fucking slut. such a good toilet for gege, yeah? god dammit, i love you.” he keeps slamming himself in and out, her pussy wringing out what's left of what his bladder and balls can give.
in which ceo!gojo can’t help but fuck his pretty secretary.
ft. ceo!satoru gojo x fem!reader.
warn. no plot, just smut. around 1.7k words. backshots/headlocks. degradation(?). thick!reader. secretary!reader. breeding kink. unprotected sex. slight talk of babies. slight cervix fucking. meaaan!gojo. creampies. overstimulation. slight power play(?). slight size kink. dumbification(?).
sol's notes. school was fucking me up so i didn’t have time to do my kinktober masterlist but this is week/day 1 :(( idk maybe i’ll just update my masterlist along the way
it felt so wrong.
truly, it did. you shouldn’t be here, bent over his desk like an offering. to everyone else at the firm, you were just the secretary with good nails and an even better filing system. appointments, coffee orders, frantic phone calls—that’s all you were supposed to be. not the girl getting split open by the man at the very top of the power chain, the one whose name sat in gold on the building’s front doors.
but if it was so wrong, why did it feel so good?
your boss, satoru gojo, had you draped under him like a doll—back arched, pencil skirt rucked up over your ass, black lace panties hooked to the side like they were nothing.
palms flat against the wood, the scent of oak and paper and his cologne all around you. your plush thighs trembled, small heels barely clinging to the floor as his dick stretched you deep, every drag against your walls making you jolt and whimper.
gojo watched you like a man starved.
ice-blue eyes locked on the way his thick, gleaming length disappeared into your soaked cunt, his big hands gripping your hips so hard you’d see the bruises later. every time he pulled out, your walls clung to him, slick dripping down to the floor, obscene and perfect.
“h-aaah. . such a greedy little pussy,” he murmured, voice dark and smug, biting his lip as he bottomed out with a wet slap. his suit jacket was long gone, pants bunched at his ankles, but his white shirt and tie stayed on—immaculate, except for the way the top buttons strained over his chest. the contrast made you shiver.
your body betrayed you.
“‘toru—!” you moaned, your voice breaking as your tits bounced in your half-open blouse. your nails dug half-moons into the desk. he was too big. too long. every stroke kissed past your cervix and pressed against a spot that made your eyes cross. and the girth—fuck, the girth had you clenching, messy, incoherent.
“‘toru what?” he taunted, pace picking up, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in the soundproof office.
“y’don’t like the way i’m fuckin’ you right now? or. . .” his hand slid up from your ass to your waist, up over your ribs, until it caught your jaw messily. “. . . you love it so much you want the whole floor to hear?”
you whimpered at the words, arching even harder, pussy clenching around him at the mere thought of being caught like this.
ruined. pathetic. his.
“n-no!” you mewled, ass rippling under his thrusts. “lo—mmph—love the way you’re fuh-fuckin’ me—!” your voice cracked as his thick, flushed tip bullied your walls, your words dissolving into wet gasps.
he grinned, sharp and pretty. “fu-fuck. .” he hissed, hips jerking, “didn’t quite hear you. say that again, angel.” his thumb pressed into your cheek, smearing a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth.
“i-i love the way you’re f-fuckin’ meee!” you sobbed, eyes rolling back.
gojo’s other hand came down on your ass with a stinging crack! the skin blooming a deep purple under his palm. you gasped, pussy fluttering as a knot built in your belly. his thrusts turned vicious, piston-deep and wet. “yeaaah? y’like gettin’ fucked like this? like gettin’ fucked by your boss?”
“y-yesss!” you nodded frantically, thighs quaking, nipples hard under your bra as they brushed the fabric. gojo’s eyes flicked down to your messy folds, slick and cream making a thick ring around his base, and something feral moved behind his grin. he tugged your head back so you met his gaze—icy eyes to yours, half-lidded and glassy. makeup smeared, lips kiss-swollen from his mouth.
you were a vision.
“mmm. . .” he drawled, smile widening until you could see every pearly white. “tell me, baby. . who else could fuck you like this?” his cock drove in deep again, deeper than before, until your stomach lurched.
“n-no one,” you slurred, drool slipping from your lip. “no one—just oh! you, ‘toru. .”
he groaned at that, low and wrecked, grip tightening on your jaw. his eyes locked on yours, and he pulled you closer to his chest, hips never faltering. “atta girl—say it again. say whose pussy this is.”
your voice came out a whimper, your body trembling. “y-yours, ‘toru—f-fuuck! it’s yours. . .”
the ring of cream only grew thicker, messy and obscene, a slick halo around the base of his cock.
every thrust made a wet, pornographic slap that echoed off the walls, hips smacking into the swell of your ass, the impact sending vibrations through your skin. every time he bottomed out, his thick tip churned the previous creampies deep inside you, making you shudder as the mixture sloshed around, heavy and warm.
his balls swung forward with each brutal stroke, slapping against your swollen clit over and over, a dull wet percussion that had your eyes rolling back until only white showed. your jaw went slack, drool slicking your chin.
that’s when gojo shifted, his big palm leaving your jaw to snake around your throat; then his whole arm curled under your chin and around your neck, locking you into his body.
the headlock forced your spine into a deep arch, heavy breasts bouncing free from your blouse, nipples dragging against the cool air. your fingers clawed at the desk for something to hold onto but couldn’t reach, nails instead digging crescent-moons into the fabric of his shirt sleeve, clutching like you’d drown if you didn’t. his other hand stayed iron-tight on your hip, thumb digging in so hard it stung.
it was pathetic—the way your boss had you squirming, gasping, drooling, getting fucked in a headlock like you were nothing but his toy.
“f-fuck—‘m so close. . .” he hissed against your ear. his voice was ragged, almost broken, fighting to keep himself from spilling again. his cock pulsed thick inside you, dragging slow on the way out, then slamming back in, deeper, harder, the veins rubbing against every slick ridge of your walls.
he looked down at you like a man starved: the way you arched, the way your ass and thighs quivered, the way you moaned his name through clenched teeth and clung to his arm—everything about you screamed ruined.
and it made him want to ruin you even more.
“haah—w-wan’ it inside again, please?” you whimpered, voice shaking.
the strokes were so deep, so unrelenting, the edge of pain and pleasure blurring until you couldn’t tell which was which. your head lolled back onto his shoulder, hair wild, the scent of your cocoa lotion and sweat in his nose.
he shifted his grip. the hand that had been bruising your hip moved away, leaving a ghostly cold spot, only to trail forward to your stomach where the faint outline of him was visible. his forearm flexed around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath catch, and a high moan rumbled up from your chest.
“yeah? you want it inside?” he rasped, the words a low taunt against your ear. “fu-fuckin’ knew you’d let me do it again. you love lettin’ me fuck my cum deeper in you. you love gettin’ knocked up like a slut, don’t you?”
his palm flattened over your stomach, pressing down on the bulge so you could feel how far inside he was. your walls clamped down hard around him, pulsing, making him groan.
“awh—see that? feel me right here?” he hissed, grinding his hips so the head of his cock punched the same spot over and over. “look at that, angel. . me in your stomach. aaalll mine.”
you choked on a sound between a sob and a moan, back arching harder, ass rippling under his relentless rhythm.
“o-ooh sh-shit!” you cried as slick and cum began to drip down the insides of your thighs, the heat and wetness obscene.
gojo’s laugh was low and dangerous in your ear, his hips never slowing. “uh-huh. . look at you. sloppy little secretary. all fucked out on your boss’s dick.” his tongue flicked out, swirling slow circles along the shell of your ear until you shivered.
his thrusts turned savage, piston-deep, his balls smacking your clit harder, his arm still locked around your throat to keep you upright. “’s all me in there,” he groaned, voice cracking as his cock twitched. “nobody else could fuck you like this. nobody else could fill you up like this.”
your vision blurred, body trembling as you felt the edge start to crest, his words and his grip and the weight of him inside you making the knot in your stomach burn hot and tighten.
and it did—fast. faster than you could even think. your vision blurred until it went hazy and crossed from the overwhelming pleasure, every nerve ending in your body strung tight.
your thighs trembled violently, heels scraping against the floor, your knees seconds from giving out. the only thing keeping you upright was gojo’s arm flexed like iron across your throat and his other arm banded tight around your stomach, holding you locked against his chest like a ragdoll.
his breath was hot against your ear, voice a rough pant. “o-oh, ‘m gonna cum,” he pants, teeth grazing your lobe as his forearm squeezed harder around your neck. the pressure sent sparks through your whole body, a shockwave down to your clit, making you choke on a moan. “want your boss t’fill you up again, yeah? wanna be swollen with my kid, right?”
your fingers clawed weakly at his sleeve from his words, grip faltering, mind blank. your body answered before your brain could. “y-yesss! f-fuuck, ‘m cumming!”
white-hot pleasure strangled you both. your moans were high and broken, pornographic sounds spilling into the air like a potion, mixing with his guttural groans.
your pussy fluttered and clenched around him, greedy, milking him. gojo’s hips stuttered, his dick thickening and jerking deep inside you before he groaned through clenched teeth.
hot ropes of cum surged into you, thick and endless, flooding your walls until you swore you could feel it pool against your cervix. some leaked out around his shaft with every lazy thrust, slick mixing with cream until your inner thighs were sticky.
your swollen clit rubbed against the base of him, overstimulated, making your whole body twitch and jerk.
gojo didn’t let go immediately. he held you there, still stuffed full of him, arm tight around your throat, making you feel every throb of his cock as it pulsed and dripped inside you. “that’s it. . ” he hissed into your ear, voice wrecked, “goood fuckin’ girl.”
when the tremors finally ebbed out of you, your body went limp, chest heaving. gojo loosened his grip and you sagged forward, almost collapsing onto the desk, your palms sliding over scattered papers to hold yourself up.
he stayed behind you, eyes lidded and hungry, then slid his big hands down to your plush ass.
his thumbs spread your cheeks apart slowly, watching with a lazy, breathless chuckle as his cum sloshed and dripped from your abused pussy, strings of it clinging to your folds and the base of his cock.
“look at you,” he murmured, smirk curling his lips, “messy little secretary can’t even stand up straight.” he dipped his thumb to drag it through the mess, then smeared it back against your weeping and weak hole just to watch you flinch.
even ruined, he was still your cocky boss.
“don’t forget about that meeting we got in twenty, angel,” he said lightly, tucking himself back into his slacks, fingers lazily fiddling with his belt.
his shirt was still half-buttoned, his tie crooked, but he looked infuriatingly composed. “can’t have my secretary missing in action, yeah? come fix your makeup. . and don’t spill a drop.”
he grinned when you shuddered at the command, cum still dripping from you onto his expensive carpet.
Summary: One year later, you've grown comfortable on your farm, living out your lives with your routines, free of any fear or stress.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 1,322 words
Warnings: Alpha/beta/omega dynamics, alternate universe, copious amounts of fluff
A/N: Aaah here it is, the end of CRCB. This feels so surreal after just over 20 months of near non-stop writing this fic. I can't believe it made it this far, that I managed to finish a fic of this length at all, much less in such a short amount of time. I'm forever grateful for those of you who have been here from the beginning, supporting me and those of you that have joined later on at any point keeping me going. It's really because of all of my readers that this fic made it to the end. It's bittersweet that such a big part of my life, and so many others, is coming to a close, but it's not the end. I'll still be around, posting writing. I've got some things up my sleeve for next year, and I can't wait to start sharing them with you. I hope you've enjoyed this fic, and I hope you enjoy this sweet ending that we all deserve.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous
One Year Later
The sun is just rising, lighting the sky as it crests over the horizon when you wake. The bed is warm, helped by the furry body pressed up against you. You slip a hand from under the sheets to rub Teddy’s head, pressing a kiss to his snout where it rests on the pillow next to you. He stirs, lifting his head as he yawns. You roll onto your back, turning your head to look to the left. Kyle is still fast asleep, tucked under the blankets. It’s still cold in the mornings, damp and dewy from the overnight frost.
You tuck the blankets tighter around Kyle before you slip from bed, Teddy jumping down behind you. You dress in warm clothes, tugging on jeans and a thick coat before you head out of the room, softly closing the door behind you. Teddy runs for the back door excitedly, the house quiet in the early morning. You slip on a pair of wellies before opening the door, letting Teddy run free.
You grab the basket from the shed before heading out into the grass, following the path worn down by many pairs of boots over the last year. The grass has stopped growing in it, leaving it thick with mud in the winter and dry with dirt in the summer. It’s still damp now as you shift into spring, your boots squishing audibly as you make your way to the chicken coop.
You open the door to the hen house to let them out before you begin gathering eggs, pushing a broody hen off of her nest. She pecks at you but you simply shove her out of the way, long gone numb to the sharp pecks of their beaks.
You leave the coop, basket full of eggs in hand. You make your way further down the path to the pasture, finding Johnny meticulously combing through Flower’s thick hair.
“Morning.” You say, petting Fower’s head through the fence.
“Mornin’,” Johnny says, glancing up at you with a smile. “Get a good clutch this mornin’?”
You nod. “Almost a dozen. Twice as much as yesterday.”
“I swear they’re producing better on Tuesdays.” Johnny says.
Another moo sounds, your second cow Petal running up to the fence. “Hello, girl.” You say, patting her head. She’s younger than Flower, her horns just poking through her shaggy hair. “Where’s John?” You ask Johnny.
“Out with the sheep.” He says, moving to Flower’s other side. “Took them out early this mornin’. Probably sittin’ and watchin’ the sun rise.”
You smile softly. “I’ll leave him to his quiet time, then.” You turn, Teddy wagging his tail behind you. “What, you want to stay out here?”
Teddy barks at you, as if he’s answering your question.
“Alright, alright.” You wave your arm. “Go on.”
He runs off down the hill, and you watch until you can’t see him anymore. Silly pup. You make your way back to the house, leaving your boys to their work.
Kyle is up when you step back through the door, bleary-eyed making some tea. You toe off your mud-covered wellies, leaving them by the door before setting the basket of eggs on the counter. You lean up, pressing a soft kiss to Kyle’s cheek. He grunts in greeting, rubbing his eyes. He’s not quite the morning person as he used to be.
You grab the bucket from under the sink before you start to wash the eggs, cleaning each one meticulously before adding them to an empty carton. No doubt you’ll be sharing with the neighbors soon with how many you’ve gotten from the chickens recently.
You start the coffee machine for you and Johnny before you take the basket back out to the shed. Kyle is seated at the table when you return, nursing his hot tea, still half asleep. You squeeze his shoulder as you pass before heading back to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable for the day.
Simon has returned when you leave the room, taking Riley’s leash off before hanging it on the wall. You pat the panting German Shepherd’s head before stepping up to Simon.
“Have a good run?” You ask, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.
“Made it all the way to the McGregors’.” He says.
“Jeez what is that, ten kilometers there and back?” You ask.
“Not quite, more like eight.” He grins.
“Still, that’s impressive.” You say, kissing him again. “Good for you, now go shower smelly man.”
“I’m not that smelly,” he says, trying to wrestle your face into his armpit.
You slip out from under his arm before he can, giggling as you back away. “Oh, no, not this today. I’m too fast for you.” You grin.
He chuckles. “That you are. I’ve gotten slow in my retirement.”
“Nah, you’re still sharp as a knife.” You say, patting his cheek before passing into the living room.
You turn on the morning news, letting it play in the background as you listen to Riley scarfing down his breakfast, and probably Teddy’s too. Kyle is moving around in the kitchen, now more alive than he was a few minutes ago, starting on breakfast.
“Bacon or sausage?” He yells.
“Bacon!” You yell back, choosing for him.
The pan starts to sizzle, and soon you can smell the delicious aroma of bacon in the air. Riley has stopped eating, no doubt laying at Kyle’s feet, waiting for anything that might “accidentally” drop onto the floor.
The back door opens, two pairs of boots and a set of paws coming into the house. Boots get toed off a the door before feet make their way towards the bedroom to change into cleaner clothes for now.
Johnny joins you on the couch, lounging across it so he can lay his head in your lap. “Mornin’ kitten.” He says, wiggling to get comfortable.
“Morning.” You say, running your fingers through his mohawk. He couldn’t be convinced to get rid of it, and it’s become a staple in his retirement. He’ll keep it until he’s old, you think. Even then, he might still wear it just for fun.
“Smells good in here.” He says, sniffing the air.
“It does. I’m so hungry.” You say, licking your lips.
Teddy pads into the living room, feet freshly wiped clean of mud. He lays himself at your feet, curling up in a ball. Riley joins the two of you, still panting a bit as he lays down next to Teddy. You had been worried when Simon adopted the retired military dog, but the two of them are like peanut butter and jelly. They got on immediately and have been practically inseparable since.
“Breakfast’s ready,” John says, sticking his head through the archway a while later, freshly shaved and washed.
Johnny rises from your lap, Teddy and Riley following him to the kitchen, you not far behind.
“Morning,” you say, pressing a kiss to John’s lips.
“Morning, love.” He says, kissing you softly.
You hum against his lips, leaning into him. He groans softly, his hands dropping to your waist to hold you.
“If you two are done making out, the food is getting cold.” Kyle calls from the kitchen.
You break apart, giggling softly. You head for the kitchen, John following behind you. You make a plate before sitting at the table beside Simon. John takes the head of the table, the five of you settling in for breakfast.
Riley and Teddy make their rounds as you eat, the world outside getting brighter and brighter as the sun rises. Silence has settled over the table, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. It’s a full silence, just the five of you enjoying each other’s company now that you’re together as a pack. No more fear, no more worry, no more stress.
Just the five of you living out the rest of your lives together, safe and comfortable.
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