a/n: I did this for a friend once and I just had to make this😭 (also for the person that made a request last week… I’m sorry but I’m sick rn and nothing I write is good but I promise to upload it this weekend or next week!)
warnings — fem reader, bōndage, crėampies, megumi is aged up (18+). mdni (17+).
your big, hunky boyfriend that occasionally indulges in your little fantasies even though he’s not particularly fond of them, but he does it to keep you happy.
he’ll let you tie him to the bed with your pretty pink ribbons with a very obvious scowl on his face as you giggle while you “restrain” him.
he thinks it’s silly honestly, but he would never tell you that. plus, these “restraints” you’re using are some he could easily break out of. did you forget what he does for work?
for now, he’ll let you have your fun, thinking that you’re in control. until he gets tired, that is.
tired of the way you tease his cock, not taking him all the way in your mouth. tired of watching your tits bounce as you ride him but not being able to touch them. tired of the way this little bit of “control” you have over him is getting to your head.
all it’ll take is one weak pull of his wrists and these little “restraints” of yours will be broken, and he’ll be in control again.
he’ll have you pinned underneath him in the blink of an eye, slamming his hips into yours and forcing his fat, girthy cock into you. he’ll show you who really has the power and control.
he won’t stop until stop your pussy is sore and raw and his sticky cum is leaking out onto the bedsheets from the multiple loads he’s released in you. by the time he’s done with you, the only thing you’ll remember how to do is repeat his name, over and over again like a chant.
but he’ll let his princess have her way, just like he always does. only for a little while though.
It’s a hot day. Finding solace in the shade. All work lately left you exhausted, and this heat isn’t helping. Finding a comfy bench in the cool shade, soon you doze off.
A little while later, Gojo finds you. After much discussion with himself, he will not draw on your face, instead he settles with a boop on your nose, causing you to toss and fidget making him to grin from ear to ear.
But knowing that class is starting soon, he pouts at the thought of waking you up for real. Plus you won’t be in the shade for long as the sun rises and falls to the West. “Hey,” snapping his fingers but to no avail. Man, she must have been tired ...
He pokes you again, softer this time. “Hey.” This time, his finger curls and he smooths his finger over your cheek. But pulls away, did he overstep? He’ll apologize later.
For now, he’s transfixed, watching as the cool breeze gently blows your hair and clothes. You look so peaceful and content. Finally some respite from the daily grind of this horrible wheel that is Jujutsu High. But Gojo can’t find it in himself to wake you up.
So, he sits beside you, arms crossed. He himself doesn’t sleep much. But here, with you—he easily dozes off. Soon, his head falls onto your shoulder jolting you up gently.
Looking to see what was the matter, seeing—and feeling—the soft feathery white hair resting on your face. You’re at a lost for what to do. Instead, you stay there, knowing how tired this guy must be. How the higher ups call for him on each and everything.
Plus this feeling of him being so close to you, so vulnerable … makes heat rise to your face, as you try to hide a shy smile.
Your tilt your head allowing him more room to be more comfortable. Waiting until he wakes—whenever that is.
⋆ Choso ⋆
His brows furrow at the clock, you were supposed to wake up fifteen minutes ago. But you’re still sleeping. He doesn’t want to bother you, but knows you have work to do.
Choso goes into the bedroom, but the sight of your peacefully sleeping form causes a pain in his heart. He lays down beside you on his side watching you sleep. So innocent, so peaceful. He sighs before whispering, “hey. It’s time to wake up.” But nothing. Just a little louder, “hey it’s time,” his hand reaches for your face, caressing it entirely.
You start to stir, a smile cresting your face the moment you see his own. Immediately pushing your face into his chest. “One … more … minute.”
It’s still so foreign to him—your affection, not that he’s complaining. As it sends butterflies up and down his body. Choso loves you whole heartily and it pains him to disturb you in any way no matter how small or how great the need.
Perhaps in a sort of a silent apology, he wraps both arms around your body holding you even closer.
Rubbing your back, wishing this could last forever. You push back to get up, but his grip only tightens, “just a minute longer …” His deep voice cooing in your ear, as his finger traces your spine soothingly, up and down, up and down.
It is only until he falls asleep, (which is very soon) is when you are able to pull away from him. Begrudgingly so. Taking slow, careful steps to the bathroom, you stop to watch this angel of a man for a brief time before jumping into the shower.
Then even when you come back, he holding the pillow in his arms, his head nuzzling the soft fabric pretending it’s you. What a precious man … You kiss his temple before leaving, counting the seconds that you’re back in his arms.
⋆ Nanami ⋆
Nanami sits at the counter, sipping away at his coffee whilst reading the newspaper. Looking at his watch, it’s getting late. Though he hates disturbing your slumber, he better wake you up. Folding the paper in one fluid motion, he makes his way to your shared bedroom.
Turning the corner, as your back comes into view—he stops dead in his tracks. He stands there trying to decide in his head how best to wake you up in the most gentlest and lovingly way possible.
His knee finds the bed first then his body before he slides his left arm around underneath you. He buries his face in your hair, eyes closed at the sweet warm smell of you. His lips curves upward in a most satisfying smile as he says your name out loud.
But nothing. You don’t even stir. He looks over, hovering over you to see your face. Nothing.
Resting his face gently on yours, he notices your hand, the glint of your rings reminding him of one special fact. That you’re married to him.
Intertwining his fingers with yours. (The lefts of course.) Watching as your wedding bands shine and sparkle. They look good together. His—he wears for you. And yours—you wear for him. The latter, no matter how many days or months, or years go by. He can’t help but be is disbelief. Forever grateful for his luck.
When your eyes flutter open, the first thing you see, are the blonde strands of your husband’s hair in view. “Ken?”
“I’m sorry dear, but it’s time to wake up.”
“Okay, okay … I’m getting up.” You turn on your back coming face to face with him, he releases his arm. Your left hand—knowing that he loves the cold steel on your engagement and wedding ring on his skin—caresses his face. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” he leans in, gently but passionately kissing you. The kiss grows deeper as your arms wrap around his broad shoulders.
But he has to break away lest he’ll be here in your arms all day. Though he was the one to (regretfully) break away, his face blushes and wears a perpetual smile, knowing that the sooner tonight comes, the sooner he can have back in his arms.
⋆ Geto ⋆
You were to supposed to wake up an hour ago. Geto knows this as he stands on the side of the stage. With furrowed brows, he sees an empty space between the girls. Your normal spot, but you’re not there. Texting them, they reply back that they tried but you wouldn’t wake up.
He walks to your bedroom (his bedroom also of course) only to witness a beautiful sight:
Sliding the door open, he sees the sunlight glow from the window. His eyes follow the beams to the huge bed, it’s canopy draped in mystical dark fabric. There, sleeping is you, slumbering like a princess waiting for her prince.
The bed dips down with a low creak when he sits at the edge. His fingers grazes your face, as though to memorize each and every detail of your delicate face. His thumb lightly rubs against your cheek before he gently pulls away any hair in your face—no matter how short.
Geto’s eyes turn down, watching as the covers slowly, and rhythmically go up and down, up and down. Your breathing so soft and sound. Seeing you so peaceful is contagious. It relaxes him.
Only when his finger traces your jawline, is when you finally start to stir. “Good morning princess.”
Stretching with one eye open, “good morning Prince Charming.” Then stretching into his touch as his hand never leaves, cupping your face. “What time is it?”
“Well …” He looks at the clock, it’s certainly not morning. Geto lets out a single scoff. “It doesn’t matter, just for today, lay back down.” He leans in to kiss your temple, gently pushing you back down..
In return, you smile at him. Such a bright beautiful smile, rivaling that of the sun. In truth, you have no idea what your little seducing grin does to him. He leans down and kisses you like the dark prince that he is.
⋆ Kusakabe ⋆
You told him that you’ll wake up in ten minutes, but it’s been a half an hour and you’re still not up. “Damn it,” he chugs down his coffee, slamming it down before stomping towards the bedroom with his usual grumpy demeanor. But your face betrays him. Your sleeping form erasing any annoyance, any anger. Immediately cooling down his hot temper.
He sighs, leaning his head on the door frame. Every part of him wants to let you sleep, but he knows you have to wake up.
“Hey,” his hand cups your shoulder lightly—ever so lightly shaking it.
“Hm?”
“It’s time to wake up.”
“Ten more minutes …” Your foggy voice causing him to let out a single chuckle. Even as you turn around, pulling the covers over you, he leans over the bed, shoulders rising and falling, a smirk on his face.
What the hell. He might as well.
The bed dips as he lays behind you, suit and all, just minus the jacket and shoes, wrapping an arm around you. Intertwining your fingers with his around your stomach, he nuzzles his face in the nook of your neck. Pushing his leg between yours, Kusakabe whispers, “it’s been thirty minutes. Come on.” His urgent words betrays his actions, kissing your neck. What he would give to stay here like this.
Feeling your body stretch under his own, he holds on tighter. “Okay, I’m up.” He releases you—regretfully—only when you push through. But he manages one last kiss on your back between your shoulder blades, before falling on his back. Turning back to him, “good morning,” your half lidded gaze causing him to chuckle.
“Morin’in,” he smiles at you, as the morning sun highlights your features. You’re even more beautiful than the day he met you. Hell, each day, you grow more beautiful than the day before. He doesn’t know how you do it., but you do.
“What?” Wondering why he’s looking at you with his smirk.
“Nothing,” he lazily traces your wrist, “get ready.”
With another stretch, you push off the mattress. The little pitter patters of your feet to bathroom paired with your adorably sleepy look—Kusakabe can’t help but to smile.
⋆ Sukuna ⋆
It’s the afternoon, Sukuna sits watching as some pathetic lord pleads for … something. He’s not listening, as he only wonders why you’re not standing to his right. Looking at Uraume to his left, they know what he’s asking even though Sukuna never opens up his mouth, “I believe she’s still sleeping.”
You can sleep but not him? No. Not good enough for the King of Curses. He makes his way to your bedroom to see that Uraume was right. You’re sleeping. His crimson eyes never leaving you, even as he slides the door shut.
He should grab you by your ankle and shake you awake. But no. You’re a delicate flower. His delicate little flower. He kneels before the bed, head tilting, resting on one of his forearms as though he’s studying something foreign. How on Earth are you his?
His finger traces the bridge of your nose. The moment you toss a little, he starts to giggle, only to do it again.
“Sukuna …” Now he fully chuckles. His raspy voice briefly growing soft. His entire hand engulfs your face as he caresses it, so, so gently. So uncharacteristic of the brooding King of Curses but not uncharacteristic of your Sukuna.
Resting his head on the bed as he continues to caress your face. You shoo his hand away to no avail. He mockingly mimics your hand movement with another hand. “Stop it.” Then it suddenly hits—even in this daze. “What time is it?” Your wide eyes, trying to stay open only continues to amuse him.
But he shuts your lids back close, his whole hand once again engulfing your face, “move over.” And you scoot over allowing him room to lay next to you. Two arms cup you and pull onto him. The rhythm of his breathing—his chest going up and down like a lullaby lulling you back to sleep.
He breaths you in, you that represents everything good in his life. Kissing the top of your head.
⋆ Higuruma ⋆
With your husband working late yet again tonight, and dying to see you, he called you to hang out at the office. Once there, you, him, and Shimizu share take-out. After deciding to stay to help out a bit and give moral support, the minutes turn to hours and soon, he finds you asleep at the empty desk to his left.
Shimizu watches with a smile as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. He does the same to her of course—because he’s a gentleman, but with you, it’s the way he tucks you in, pushing and pulling the fabric so that it covers as much as it can.
Hours later, she’s gone but he’s still reading documents, his gaze every so often settling on your sleeping body. Looking at the clock—it’s very, very late. He doesn’t mind himself, but you, it’s another story.
Squatting down beside you, “hey,” he rubs your head, pushing away any strands of hair. He takes your hand and starts rubbing it with his thumb.
“Hm?”
“Come on, let’s go home.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, no, no, come on.” His deep voice dips down into a most wonderful whisper, not knowing that it relaxes you even more. Your eyes slowly open meeting his own. “Ready?” But you shake your head no. Hiromi laughs in response, kissing you, sending a bolt of lighting through your body.
You chase the kiss even as he slightly pulls back—he had no idea that, that would wake you up—now he knows. As an apology from pulling away, his hand finds it’s way into your hair as he pushes his lips back into yours. Engulfing you.
The whole way home, he walks holding your hand, chuckling at your half lidded gaze. Soaking up every moment as you lean your head on him whilst on the train. Still wearing his jacket all the while.
Finally back home, you collapse on the bed. Clothes and all. But Hiromi slides right next to you. One arm around your shoulders, and the other, intertwining fingers. He kisses your forehead as he falls asleep with you.
