falling asleep with a claustrophobic s/o
| ft. tengen, rengoku, sanemi, and giyuu
a/n: i'm SUPER cleithrophobic (which is like clastrophobia but more a fear of being trapped and unable to get out, rather than being afraid of small spaces in general) and cuddling is really hard for me. sometimes i, me, the author has to indulge in some VERY specific comfort hcs 🙈
tengen
bedtime got you down?
cuddling feel like being buried alive?
well you’re in luck!
b/c your husband is as broad as a california king
‘but i’m big big :(‘ you protest
to which i say
sorry
he’s even bigger
he will always be bigger than you and he will always want your weight sprawled on top of him
tengen thuds onto his back in a sea of satin sheets
“come”
he pats his chest invitingly and peers over his big old bust at you
“ten, i’m not sleeping on top of you.”
he pouts and drums his chest some more
“you don’t love me anymore”
“your boobs are too big!”
pouty lips curling at the corners, he sits up a bit to reach for your hand
you always fight him when you think you’re being a burden
you don’t wanna fall asleep tangled in his arms?
nonissue
he would sleep on hot coals if it made you more comfortable
smile on his face
“you love these double Ds”
“they’ll give me a crick so bad i die”
you’re not fighting him anymore though, as he takes your hand and pulls you forward
“dying in my arms y/n, very romantic”
it only takes one tug to pull you off balance and your head lands squarely above his heart
you can hear it beating clearly here
and if anything, a little too fast
“you got a crush or ‘sum?” you murmur into his collarbone with one defeated, and cozily squished cheek
it’s perfect like this
you wiggle all your limbs and bask in the freedom
he tosses a blanket over your little dogpile
and rests a hand on the back of your head to keep you from slipping
“y/n, a crush?” he grumbles into your hair, “when we first met, i once– from the thought of you alone– without touching myself– achiev–”
“goodnight tengen”
rengoku
kyojuro is ridiculous i swear
who thought ‘yes i’ll simply write the perfect man and then let him be perfect in front of a yearning audience’??
a sweaty heat between you
legs over hips
your waist in his arms
a thumb swiping at your cheekbone rhythmically
it’s too hot
–can’t bend your arms, can’t free your hips, it's too–
“it’s–it’s too much”
you roll a few times out of his arms to the safety of your empty futon beside his
“i’m sorry kyo”
he’s warm and wide and heavy and so fucking cuddly
“my love, are you alright?”
when you peek at him behind you, in his own bedding, his golden eyes look so concerned it kills you
he’s propped himself up on an elbow
ready to jump into action
has he offended you?
are you unwell?
do you need a doctor?
“i’m sorry” you murmur and turn away from him “i’m tired, i don’t want to touch tonight”
“oh love, i’m sorry, i wasn’t trying to–”
“no, no” you roll back over in a hurry to correct him, “i just have to be over here right now”
he doesn’t understand
“are…um, have i, maybe..”
how could you possibly tell the man who hung the stars for you that holding him at night makes it difficult to breathe?
“my chest,” you pull one of his hands out of his blanket and press it against your heart, across the divide of your futons laid side by side, “it feels tight when i’m in closed spaces”
he melts in your touch and lowers himself back into bed to listen
“i don’t...like feeling like i can’t move”
it takes him all of eight seconds to cure your anxiety
“i hold you at night to make you feel safe. It has not been. My darling, what can i do to comfort you?”
i life without this man is no life at all
you fall asleep easily on his outstretched arm that night, his other hand rubbing patterns down your back
“you should always tell me these things y/n, i will help you.”
from then on, on days where his arms are too heavy for you, or his bedding is too hot, kyojuro tucks you in and then falls asleep facing your futon so that the first and last thing he sees everyday is you at peace
sanemi
“what do you mean you don’t want me to hold you? are you fucking defective?”
ah yes
doesn’t he just make your knees weak
“real panty soaker you are nems”
sanemi is behind you and seconds away from reaching an arm across your waist, having finally gathered enough courage to spoon you
this is what people want right?!
to be the little spoon??
he would want that if he were you
you roll away from him two times to make sure you’re facing him and far enough away to see his face clearly
it’s whole fucking ordeal
“i don’t like getting spooned”
“huh?” he grimaces
and makes a dramatic show of stretching his arms out wide in exasperation
“it’s just too restrictive! i don’t like it”
“you don’t seem to care about restriction when i’m fucking folding you in–”
“do not finish that sentence”
“–half!”
first night together going just swimmingly 🤟🏽
sanemi finally has a chance to be gentle with you and you don’t even want it
“how do you normally sleep?” your airy voice snaps him momentarily out of a rage
“however i fucking want”
“then get comfortable”
“what?”
what are you talking about?
“go on then” you repeat, holding back giggles from the other side of the mattress “get comfortable, I have an idea”
he looks to you and then back up at the ceiling and huffs
“c’mon nems jus–”
his arms suddenly shoot straight out next to him and he kicks up his knees under the blanket
⭐️
he’s still staring at the ceiling but now his face is bright red
“o-oh,” you bite back laughter, “is this..is this how you do it normally?”
“shut up”
he’s not embarrassed for long though, as you snake your way beside him
“let me know if you don’t like it”
he’s not sure what he’s expecting– anything? everything?– and he’s really not sure how to breathe when you lay a careful head on his shoulder
you press your chests together and tuck one of your thighs between his legs
adjust your cheek into the hollow of his collarbone
“is this okay sanemi? you lay on your back, i lay on my stomach”
is this okay sanemi
he might love you
“you sleep like a starfish so i’ll just latch on where i can”
“whatever”
he’s thankful you can’t see him fighting to not bury his face in your sweet hair
“oh i get it” your voice and chest rumble with laughter against his body “you just want me to spoon you”
and for the first time all night he’s too distracted to be a bloodthirsty bastard
“you can do that?”
“roll over”
giyuu
three demon hordes, two sleepless nights, and one lost finger
and this is going to be what kills you?
giyuu gulps
you don’t even make a sound
you’re both hovering at the foot of a single futon in the center of the inn room
“i asked for two”
is the only thing he can muster
you shake yourself out of your daze and rest a hand on your sword hilt
“we can do this”
giyuu nods vaguely but doesn’t look at you
you’ve been together for weeks
a hundred years longer than the hashira thought anyone could stand him
but haven’t needed to fall asleep together yet
‘burn that bridge when we cross it,’ you always thought
besides, you and giyuu have never needed a bed
giyuu is the first to lay down after bathing
he stands up politely when you enter the room from your own bath but you can tell he’s exhausted
he’s back down even faster than he stood and visibly fighting the urge to sleep for forty days and nights
you sink to your knees beside the bed
“may i?”
and before you even get the last word out, he’s tossing the blanket back for you
dark eyes
parted lips
hair covering his face in long tumbles
“please”
gods you have such a big crush on this little awkward man
okay
alright
your first full night together might not be so scary after all
he looks like he’ll fall asleep immediately
you might not even have to tell him–
“y/n,” he tugs on you before pulling the blanket up so far it floats down over your heads,
“closer.”
he hates this
he can’t feel your warmth
“tomioka wait– i–”
he moves closer before you can finish your thought
and cups your hands in his
it’s difficult to make out his expression in the dim candlelight filtering through your comforter
but you wish you could have seen exactly how he looked before he brought both of your hands to his lips for a gentle kiss
in one hand he laces your fingers together and with the other he pulls the bedding back down to a reasonable shoulder-level
“don’t worry y/n, i know you don’t like tight spaces”
you’re laying on your sides facing each other, fingers tangled together
“is it okay if i hold you.. like this?”
you nod, blissfully
sleepily
you really didn’t have to tell him
“i’m sorry about your finger”
…
“what?”
“your finger”
he murmurs into your knuckles still held against his face
eyes closed so gently they flutter
“the one a demon bit off”
right
you exhale softly in laughter, the air blowing over his cheek
“don’t worry, it was my least favorite”
“mine too”
op-
there he is
