.

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

He’s so cocky at first, smirking when you bottom down on his length. “Think you can handle it baby? Take your time if you need to kay? I know it might be too much f’ you.” He chuckles.

You raise a brow in amusement. “Oh i can handle it baby, can you?” Was what you’d first said. And that question hadn’t changed since.

His lips parted in breathy groans and heavy breathing as his hands find your waist. Lips red and swollen from biting them as his eyes looked up at you almost pleadingly. “F-fuck baby.. you’re— shit, going so f-fast. Wanna slow d-down hmm?”

You smile widely, back arching as you lean down to kiss his jaw softly. Giving a false hum in thought. “Mmm.. you can take it.” He lets out the most cry like moan, head falling back into his pillow as his hips jerk upwards. Body trembling lightly when his eyes met yours.

“Shit— please baby. You d-don’t know how fucking- haah.. how fucking tight she’s grippin’ me right now.” He was referring to the way your snug walls stroked up and down his length with every harsh bounce of your hips. “I’m gonna— o-oh fuck, gonna cum again.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the crack in his voice. Your head tilted to the side as you coo teasingly. “Yeah? Gonna be a good boy n cum f’ me baby?”

He chuckles shakily, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as his cock twitches inside you. “God i fucking love you— ahh, even when you’re milking my cock like you hate m-me.” His senses were heightened, ears picking up the every squelch on your sopping pussy and his cock feeling every ridge of your gummy walls.

He lost it when you began rolling your hips sensually. Your thighs sticking to his at the mere amount of slick that joined you two. Your wetness and his cum seeping between your folds and down his girth, turning your skilled movements sloppy as you rut your hips.

You brought a hand to his face, using your nail to brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead. “C’ mon.. let it all out.” You smiled sweetly, eyes holding a dark glint when his eyes turn teary. Small beads of water pooling at his lids before he’s crying out your name.

Overly sensitive cock aching as he spills yet another load into you. Pumping the thick white substance till you’re pumped full. The rest of the substance spurting back onto him at the lack of space.

You let out a moan, “Wow baby- there’s so much. Might.. might just be your biggest load yet.” You were getting tired, but you’d never let him know that. You swear you hear him whimper when you capture his lips with yours slowly beginning to rock your hips again.

“Shit— don’t think- d-don’t think i can give you any more baby. Feels like my cock’s gonna f-fall off.” He panted, trying to keep himself together when he felt you jerking him off with your smug walls again. A small tremble raking through his body each time your ass landed back down.

His hand left your waist to cover his reddening face. Unable to hide the cherry shade of his ears and neck as he whimpered yet again. Choking out a string of moans with tears staining his cheeks when you shush him gently, “‘S only one more baby, give me one more.”

You were the only one with the ability to truly break Satoru if you tried.

“…and Broken Dreams”

Here’s the Satoru piece to go along with my earlier post🫶✨

content contains pro athlete!rin, he eats it like a champ, implied overstim, wet n messy <3

rin itoshi looks so cool, so calm and collected on the outside, that even after all these years, you still can't wrap your head around how different he gets when the two of you are alone. no one can believe that he's such a doting, loving boyfriend, and you like knowing that rin saves all the sweetest parts of himself just for you.

one thing about rin, though, is that his ego doesn't leave much room for discussion.

it's why he doesn't listen to you when you tug at his thick locks of hair, legs practically shaking, your thighs closing around his head as you whimper out a "rin, i-i can't take anymore!" you've already given him two orgasms, both of them being wrung out from you with just his tongue.

rin is prone to entering a state of hyper focus; you would think this level of concentration is reserved just for the field, but if anything, he has a tendency to go to the extreme when it comes to pleasuring you. he craves your release like he's trying to score a hat trick during a high-intensity game. and right now, to the pain and pleasure of your overly sensitive pussy, rin is in that same dedicated state right now.

he's sloppy when he gets like this. his greed gives him a hunger that can never be satiated, so all you can do is continue to tug at his hair, trying to ignore the warmth of your lower belly, the tightness of the muscles of your legs. rin's fingers dig indentations into your hips as you involuntarily thrust up your hips, bringing your cunt even closer to his starving mouth.

the ministrations of his tongue are unrelenting, and when his body demands that he actually get some oxygen into his lungs instead of trying to drown himself in your sweet pussy and sticky arousal, he slowly and reluctantly leaves his position from between your thighs. you're an absolute mess, but so is your rin. his lips are shiny with your juices, chin dripping with your arousal, cum, and strings of spit 'n drool. his cheeks are flushed a light pink, his hair is an absolute mess, and he's panting just the slightest.

right when you're about to tell him how much you love him and how it's time you two get cleaned up, especially since he has an early morning practice tomorrow, he's diving back in.

"just ten more minutes." he whines into your pussy, before he continues his relentless assault on your cunt. all you can do is throw your head back and moan out his name, not bothering to point out that he said the same thing fifteen minutes ago.

sonder — gojo satoru.

"you answered."

"you called."

your body curls into itself, hugging your thighs to your stomach as a soft static echoes on the other line. you can hear satoru breathing, it's labored, he sounds tired. satoru never gets so exhausted.

"name—"

"why did you call me?" you whisper into the phone, shifting under your blankets. off to your left on the bedside table is a half empty bottle of wine and leftover kikufuku from yesterday that you tried to eat, but couldn't, mind numb with worries for him. "i can't save you."

there's an uneasy pit in the bottom of your stomach, and if you close your eyes, maybe, just maybe, you can imagine satoru's spooning you from behind, lanky legs thrown over yours and hugging you close.

"will you stay on the phone with me at least?" he asks, and you can imagine the lopsided smile tugging on his lip, the way his blue eyes mimic crystalline ocean waves on a hot summer day. he's content, or at least halfway. a part of him hopes you'll hang up on him, spare yourself the trouble.

but you both know you won't. you've always stuck by him, haven't you?

"okay." you mumble, and despite sinking into the softness of your mattress, your heart rate picks up, and you can't help but fidget. "satoru—" does it hurt? are you lonely? please don't die alone.

he lays still, and a part of him thinks this is a little funny. here, his feelings laid bare for all to see, not just you. he's the strongest, isn't he? what's there for the strongest to ever regret?

"don't ask me." he breathes, and it's almost a plead. don't think of me in that way. don't worry about me. i'm still your satoru. "please, don't."

you sit up in bed, and bring a shaky hand to your forehead, then your cheek, inhaling sharply. your heart slows just a little. a soft realization passes over you, and you think, is this how it ends? so anti-climactic? a quiet goodbye over hushed static?

"what are you thinking?"

satoru asks, and you know he already knows what's crossed your mind. and in fear of leaving you faster than he desires, he holds back his laugh, his body can't take the weight of his heart in his throat like it used to.

"just thinking how nice it'll be..." you sigh, almost longingly, grasping at a dream. he commits the sound to memory. a palm presses against your chest, the constant thrumming of your heart steadying you, a heart that isn't even yours — hasn't been yours for a long while. "when you come home to me again."

this time he grins.

"yeah?" he whispers, and his eyes flutter closed. this, this is what he wanted. the dramatics of it all can wait. in a world full of chaos, in a veil filled with nothing but his own bustling thoughts — you made everything quiet for him. "you'll be waiting by the door f'me?"

"with kikufuku in my arms." you smile, squeezing your own eyes shut, and you think some things, the nothings, are so beautiful too. a world full of nothings with satoru, doing a whole bunch of nothings that will eventually lead up to nothing. everyday, like that with him, you wouldn't be opposed at all. "we'll watch that movie you wanted to."

"tsk– the one with the tragic hero?" the irony isn't lost on him. and if anything, he's sure if there's a god, he'd hate the two of you, because all you both ever seem to do is meet fate halfway with defiance, laughing at destiny. "you mockin' me right now?"

this time you laugh. and something wounded tight in his chest flutters away, he's weightless.

"i love you."

"you're insulting me, baby." he sighs, and you can hear the strength of his voice going down a few knotches, like a warrior sheathing his blade and setting his armor down for polishing.

you fought well, 'toru.

"we don't say it like that, never." and he's still so childish — demanding all from you, all that you can't give. already given. what he already has.

we don't say i love you like it's a goodbye.

"love you 'toru," it comes out softer, less strained, and is followed by a soft hum of approval from him. "love you more, cutie."

there's a soft beat of silence. he should hang up now, before he starts gagging on his own blood. but he'll bear it a little while longer.

"baby?"

"i'm still here, satoru."

"wanna do me a favor?" he asks, and you know that tone, it's mischievous, teasing. this man, is it possible to love him more than you already do? "tell me about it some more, please."

"more about what?"

his breaths go ragged for a quick moment, and he's imagining you here, laying beside him just as you are too. "what we'll do when i come home."

you think, if satoru goes with your heart still in his hands, you wouldn't mind.

"yeah? i can do that — where were we?"

"the movie. after the movie..."

i'd hold you so close, so close and keep you there. then do nothing. everyday, a whole bunch of nothings.

"would you stay and do nothing with me, satoru?"

"it's never nothing when it's with you."

notes ; this is my way of coping with 236. i've been crying for hours. give him back gege :((

You're Safe with Me

Aged Up Bayverse TMNT

Adult Turtle of Choice x Adult G/N Reader (I kept his speech generic so you can imagine it as any of the brothers talking)

Warnings: Fluffity fluff, comfort, confessions, describing a nightmare

Happy Reading!

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You had drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face. Daydreams had floated about in your head as you had gone about your bedtime routine. Thoughts of a deeply seeded crush. Wishes you hoped would one day manifest into something very real. Even as you slipped in between your sheets your imagination took the mundane, the ordinary, the expected, and decorated it all in blissful glowing light with him at your side. Painted it all in euphoric, glittering metaphoric tapestries of silk. Enchanted a notion of how life with him would be filled with affection and adventure. A heavenly existence. One where the two of you healed all those splinters and fissures you had each endured in the years before meeting. It made you smile. The idea of what could be as you wandered off toward dreamland.   

A rough rubbing sound followed by a soft thump made you stir some hours later. Turning your mind on to what was real. A suggestion of a groan slipped free from your lips. Your eyes fluttered. Blinking to bring your room, bathed in a gentle illumination from the fairy lights draped above your bed, into focus. You made out a figure climbing in through your window. It was him.

“Hey there stranger.” Still not fully awake, you weren’t entirely sure you had spoken with enough volume for him to hear you.

He paused for a breath of a moment. As if manifesting out of the dark night, he straightened to his full height. The width of his broad shoulders taking up almost all the narrow space between your bed and the wall. His eyes immediately dropped to the floor as if your carpet was suddenly of immense interest to him. “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I thought you might still be up. Sorry.”

Something was wrong. His voice was raspy. Tone gruff. Words rushed. He had spoken louder than was normal for his customary greeting. His shoulders were tensed. Pulled up tight as if prepared to meet an adversary in combat. The very skin covering his body seemed uncomfortable as he shifted back and forth in front of your window. Form swaying, as if prepared to begin pacing. His fingers bunched then relaxed. Perhaps in an attempt to release the tension in his muscles and shake it free from his body he shook his hands at the wrists. The action evidently unsuccessful from the twist of his expression and the reforming of fisted digits. Fingers clenched then released only to do it again.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Fine. Just looking for somewhere to be is all.” A motion from him to stay put halted your move to get out of bed. “No, it’s fine. Don’t get up. I just…” His hands came up to rest on top of his head. His feet continued to alternate, rocking his weight back and forth. Still, he refused to look your way. “I just can’t be home any more right now. Everyone is asleep. I needed to get away is all. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up.”

Turning away from you and back to the window, you were afraid he might bolt.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you did. I’ve missed you.”

He stood there, still rocking slightly. Hand resting on the windowpane. His character seemed – heavy - somehow.

“Please don’t go.” The words came out half because you did miss him. It’d been at least a week since you’d seen him last. Half, because you were really worried about him. Not once before could you recall seeing him in such a state. “What’s wrong?” Your tone was pleading.

“Nothing’s wrong. All good. You just – you just said I could always come to you if – if I needed to or anything. So I came here – and – yeah…,” His voice was tight. A sniff betrayed the tears threatening to dampen his mask.

“And I meant that. You can always come to me. No matter what time it is. No matter what the issue is. I’m here for you. Let me be here for you.”

The loud thud of the window nearly slamming shut made you jump. He seemed to jerk at the sound himself. He had put too much umph into closing it. Swiping a hand as if dismissing the entire matter he spun back to you. Finally lifting his eyes to you, you could make out how blood shot they were. How oddly pale his face appeared to be.

He cleared his throat. “Um, you go back to sleep. I’ll just, um, hang out and watch some TV or something if that’s okay with you.” Eyes dropped away again. Hands braced on his hips with a heavy breath as he awaited your approval. But his swaying continued. It was like he couldn’t bear to stand still. Maybe he’d break if he did.  

“Sweetie,” The clarity of the realization crept in on you. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

He stuttered out a humorless laugh. Casting his eyes to the ceiling, a few stray tears made their escape. He stretched out his arms, palms splayed wide as if searching for the answer in midair. “Two, three days. Maybe four. I don’t – don’t honestly know. It’s been a minute.”

Understanding calmed our vibrating nerves. The odd behavior made more sense now. “Why haven’t you slept?” You were trying your best to sound welcoming. Not accusatory. Not dismissive. Not teasing.

“Just - ugh.” He brought his hands up to forcefully rub his eyes. He kept rubbing as staggered, deep breaths puffed out his wide nostrils. “Been having nightmares. Every time I try to sleep. Driving me freaking insane.”

“Why didn’t you call me, silly?”

“Didn’t wanna bother you with something as stupid as nightmares.”

“Anything that bothers you enough to not sleep is not stupid. What are you having nightmares about?”

A wet laugh broke past his chest. He allowed his hands to free fall from his face, a loud pat sounding off as they dropped against his thighs. “It’s just, the same one. Over and over.” Now his feet were moving. He began to pace. Butting his knuckles against each other, keeping his shoulders taut, chest squared up to some imaginary threat. “Over and over and it just won’t freaking stop. Why won’t it go away?” His knuckles broke apart to bump lightly against his temples. Perhaps trying to push the images only he could see out of his mind’s eye.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” The reply was instant. Sharp.

“How can I help you?”

“How can you?”

You couldn’t decipher if it was rhetorical, a genuine question or simply him parroting back to you. As tenderly as you could, you asked, “What do you want, sweetie?”

Suddenly, he rounded on you. “What do I want? What do I want?!”

The sudden increase in his volume made your eyes stretch wide and involuntarily caused a hand to reach out in hopes of hushing him. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. It’s okay. No need to shout. Just tell me what you need. Okay?”

Crumbling under the weight of your interruption, he choked out a few wounded sounding chuckles. Moisture was pooled blatantly in his eyes. “I just want to sleep. That’s it. Why is it so hard?” Again, he ground the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Well, you couldn’t exactly make him sleep. Certainly, he would’ve tried anything you could offer him already. But maybe you could make it easier for him to get there on his own. Sure to keep your voice soft but tone firm, you gave him a simple command. “Strip.”

“What?!” The off-balance movements that had been constant since his arrival paused, body halting from momentum heavily like stone. His eyes locked onto yours. And he tried to make his brain process your order. He really did. Going so far as to physically will himself to think, his mind merely came up blank. Nothing but a proverbial flatline aside from the words ‘think’ and ‘strip’ floating meaninglessly about.

“I said to strip. Down to your underwear. Everything else off. Gear, mask, all of it.”

A blank stare was your reply.

“Come on. I mean it. Strip.”

“Why would I -,”

“Do you trust me?” you interrupted.

“Wha -,”

“Do. You. Trust. Me?”

Did he trust you? The moment he stood, confused and weary, felt like it stretched on a long time. But with a submissive sigh, his shoulders finally dropped. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, I trust you.”

That brought a small smile to your lips. It felt good to hear him say so out loud. “Then strip.”

With heavy eyes, he relented. Nodding in acceptance he began to do as you told him. Operating off of muscle memory alone, his fingers unclasped his harness. Only a half-hearted amount of effort went into preventing his gear from falling straight to the floor. Bracing his weight on the edge of your bed, he next went to work removing the wrappings from his limbs. Most of his task was done with closed eyes.  

You watching his movements closely; seeking any inclination to tip you off to what was eating at him. The poor thing was so desperately tired. What could possibly be haunting his dreams so badly as to deter him from collapsing in exhaustion?

The heaviness of his own limbs was taking its toll. After shoving his clothing down to his ankles he allowed his arms to dangle limply at his sides. He forced his reddened eyes open to look to you for approval.

“Your mask too.”

Hands reluctantly lifted to the knot at the back of his head. They stalled. Another look to you. Seeking further direction.

“You’ll sleep better without it. Trust me.”

The energy to resist simply didn’t exist. He pulled the knot loose, allowing the frayed material to slip between his fingers, and fall to your bedside table. He lifted his feet out of the heap of his garments and nudged them to the side. That left him standing in the dim, faint blush of fairy lights and moon glow, in nothing more than his scales and slightly too snug, slightly too short boxer briefs.  

One more time, he looked to you and awaited your next instruction.

You stretched your reach across the bed to grab the far corner of your comforter. With arm straight, you swung back the blanket to expose the empty spot next to you. “Come lay with me.”

He hesitated. Touching his body to yours was not foreign. The two of you embraced each time you saw one another now. Cuddled close during movie nights and even walked arm in arm as he escorted you home from time to time. Sometimes you even fell asleep on the couch together. But you had never shared a bed before. Despite your invitation, he couldn’t help the feeling it was beyond his place. That he didn’t belong.

But he wanted to go to you. He wanted to fill that bare spot in your bed. To belong. So badly wanted to feel you pressed against him, enveloped within your scent, cradled with you in the spot where you were most vulnerable. To have that comfort only you seemed to bring him. He wanted that.

You saw the conflict in his eyes. It tugged at your heart strings. “You’re safe with me. Come lie down. Let me help you sleep.”

He could resist you no longer. Sliding an arm under your pillow, he came in close. Laying his form flush against yours. The warmth of your body washed over him. Nearly drug him to sleep like a current dragging him down to drown right then and there. The thought of how easy it was to join you in bed crossed his delirious mind. He dropped his top arm over your torso, hoping against hope it wasn’t too heavy for you.

It took some wiggling to find a comfortable position. To find just the right way to lay beside one another. His form was massive compared to yours. Between his hard musculature and natural armor his body didn’t meld as your soft flesh did. So finding a manner in which to actually sleep comfortably with him against you took some work. After a minute or so you figured out that it was going to work best if you scooted up a bit higher than he on the bed.

You lifted your chin so he could tuck his head down and rest it against your chest. The steady strumming of your heart was a lulling comfort. Its rhythmic thum-thump, thum-thump, thum-thump reassured him. It told him he was in fact safe with you. The fact that you let him in so close. Especially in such a way where you were virtually defenseless. You weren’t on guard. Weren’t worried or nervous. So he didn’t need to be.   

“Now tell me about this nightmare. Tell me all of it. Don’t keep any of it inside.”

You understood his whimper as an unspoken request to not share. But you knew he’d never get the rest he so badly needed unless he got the weight of his fears off his chest. As lovingly as you were able, you stroked your fingers over the swell of his shoulder cap. Nuzzled the top of his head. Encouraged him on

There was no fight left in him.

“I fall asleep. It’s like I just close my eyes then open them to find I’m up in the middle of some rooftop. Or someplace up high. The sky is dark. I can’t see anything else around. Except for my brothers. They all have their backs to me. Swinging like madmen, it looks like they’re fighting something invisible. They’re scared. They’re in trouble. I rush forward to help one. As I get close, he stops fighting. He just turns, terror all over his face, and mouths, ‘Help me.’ I reach out for him. Something in the dark sky rips him away. He’s gone. But I can still hear him screaming.”

His fingers tighten against your flesh. Wet tears drip against your skin.

“I turn to help my other brother. Same as the before, he turns to me too. Scared to death. He doesn’t say anything though. He just reaches out for me. I reach back. But then whatever we’re standing on caves away. And he drops out of sight. I still hear him screaming even though I can’t see where he’s fallen to.”  

Now his chest was shaking with each sharp, ragged intake of air. Moisture ran freely from his eyes to puddle on your chest then run down to dampen the bed beneath you.  

“I don’t even see my last brother when I turn to look for him. I can hear him screaming though. Just like the other two. Calling out for my help. But I can’t help. I can’t do anything. I’m not enough. I’m just stuck. All alone in that spot. Listening to their cries. The dark sky seething above my head. Fear creeping into my bones. Worthless. Useless. Unable to save them. Unable to protect them. And I know they’re dying horrible, painful deaths. But I can’t do anything about it. Nothing except listen.”

His words dropped off. Squeezing his burning eyes shut tight he turned into you more, silently pleading you would accept that confession as enough.

A few tears pricked in your own eyes. A twinge pulled at your heart. In a way, you felt terrible. Not just for your heart breaking at the story he was sharing; the gravity of the fears it confessed. Terrible because just hours ago you had been reveling in fantasies of a picture-perfect life with him. Delighting in the fairy tale of how amazing it would be to be his. It felt almost cruel now, to image being so important to him without giving a moment’s pause to consider the strain a relationship with you would put on his already burdened conscience. How unfair that would be of you.

Even though it hurt, you knew there was more. You had to get him to tell you all of it. Your fingers continued to rub soothingly. You whispered. “Get it all out. Don’t keep any of it inside.”

He shook his head. Burying his face further into your skin. He didn’t want to say it. Please don’t make him say it.

“Hey.” You leaned in, close enough that your lips grazed over his skin. Your words soft like silk. “’You’re safe with me. I promise. No matter what.”

The words felt like they needed to come out now. Despite his will to keep them inside. He wasn’t in control of himself anymore. He had given in to releasing a trickle of the pain. Now the rest demanded to surge forth.

His voice quaked as he continued. “Then I hear you. You’re so scared. I go to rush to you, but - you don’t recognize me. You throw your hands up to keep me away. You scream out. Call me a monster. Shout for someone to help you as you back away. Stuff starts falling from the sky and I know you’ll get hit. I keep reaching out, trying to grab ahold of you, to pull you to safety. I plead; I beg for you to come to me. To let me save you. Tell you that you can hate me all you want after you’re safe. Just to please let me save you.

But you don’t. You just keep scrambling to get away from me. All this stuff pops up, like steel bars all tossed around. It gets harder for me to stick near you. My shell keeps getting caught. And I’m just screaming and crying, desperately trying to get you to stop running away. So I can protect you. Then you trip and fall down. Just like my brothers did, you go silent. Just looking to me with this horrified look.

Then this pink, snake-like thing slithers out from the dark, coiling around your leg. You look at it, then back at me. Your hand stretches out. But I’m stuck. I can’t get to you. And this thing rips you back into the dark, screaming all the way. And I know you’re gone. There’s nothing I can do. You’re just gone.”

His whole body was shaking now. It made sense why he had fought falling asleep for so long. What a horrible thing to dream. What horrible emotions to feel.

“Is that all of it?”

Isn’t that enough? he wanted to yell. But he only nodded as he struggled to regain his composure. Slow his breathing down to normal.

You leaned away from him a little. A split-second fear that you were getting out of bed overtook him. He looked up to meet your eye. In your gaze, however, he saw only understanding and affection. You pressed a firm, sure kiss to the middle of his forehead, lips warm and calming. Communicating your love for him.

You dropped your lips down to press a kiss over one of his eyes, then the other in turn, not deterred in the least by the wetness of his skin.

“First, we have to get all the negative out. Then we seal it with love. So the hurt can’t get back in.” A caring smile crossed your face. “Now you can go to sleep. I’ve got you. No matter what.”

A few more tears slipped free as he allowed his eyes to close. “Thank you,” he choked out in a hush.

“Of course. I wish you’d come to me sooner. So you didn’t have to try and fight through this all alone.”

“I want to keep all the bad of my life away from you. I don’t want it to take away your joy.”

“You are my joy, you dork. And there’s so very little I can offer you. The very least I can do is give you a place where you’re safe. So you can let go of all that bad.”

Enough time had passed in silence that you thought he might have fallen asleep. But a faint whisper told you he was still very much awake.

“Am I safe enough here to tell you how important you are to me?”

His statement made your heart flutter. “I know I’m important to you big guy.”

“No.” He raised his head up to look at you. Thankfully, his face seemed to have more color now. “You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

Damp eyes clung to one another a long breath. In a whisper of your own, you offered, “I think I do. Because I think the same thing about you.”

“Is it safe enough to tell you how badly I want more?”

You caught your breath. “More?”

“I want a life with you. I – I don’t know if it’ll work. But I want to try. Is it safe enough to tell you I’m terrified to ask you to try with me though?”

It was your turn to have tears rolling down your cheeks. You stroked your fingers over his cheek, taking in every tiny detail you could, memorizing each freckle and scale, as though you’d never see it again. All the while, his eyes never left yours. They mirrored every miniscule shift like his very existence hung on his ability to do so.

“Only if I get to tell you how much I want it too. And how guilty that makes me feel. Because I never want to be a burden to you. I never want to be one more thing for you to worry about.”

“That’s not your choice. I’ll always worry about you. Even if you tell me you hate me tomorrow. I’ll still worry. That’s what happens when you care about someone.”

Your heart quivered. “How can I ask that of you? You already have so much to carry. How can I ask you for more?”

In a swift move you didn’t expect, he pulled you down to be even beside him. His forehead bumped against yours. “Because you’re safe with me.” With a nudge of his nose he tilted you to face up at him. Slowly, carefully, he leaned in to hover his lips barely above yours. “Is it safe enough with you to do this?”

At your single nod, he pressed in to fully capture your lips in a kiss, his arm tightening around your shoulders. You kissed him back. Hoping he was too tired to catch the way you trembled. He broke the kiss with a soft pop. Sleep had finally come to claim him.

“Tell me you’re safe with me. Enough to try,” he mumbled, tucking his head back under your chin. Seeking out the steady thum-thump, thum-thump, thum-thump of your heartbeat.

“I’m safe with you.”

“And tell me I’m safe enough to ask that of you.”

You squeezed him close. There was so much you needed to talk about. So much more to say. So many details to set straight. But all that could wait. Right now he just needed sleep. And you wanted the chance to fantasize one more time about a carefree life with him. A life free of nightmares.

“Yes. You’re safe with me. Always.”

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The end! Hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading!

sukuna ribbing little brother yuuji constantly about you, refusing to believe that the two of you are just friends (even though you've known each other since you were in junior high.) one night the two of them are drinking beer in the living room and sukuna starts teasing him that even though you're no jennifer lawrence, surely you're still kinda fuckable, right? and yuuji just goes bright red in the face, flushed all the way up to his ears. sukuna can't leave it at that, and keeps prodding, keeps goading, keeps insisting, until finally yuuji admits that when the two of you were still young and inexperienced you fooled around a little bit. nothing serious! he swears in a squeaking tone, the two of you having barely even gotten a toe past second base, but the grin that sukuna hides behind his can of beer is positively vicious, because all he can think about is how he's going to bring this up the next time he sees you.