Eddie Falling Asleep During Kisses

PET - RYOMEN SUKUNA

“What the fuck is that?”

You tilted your head, not knowing what your boyfriend was referring to. His face looked distressed and it was starting to worry you.

“Huh? What is what?” You asked.

“That ginormous filthy rat in your hands,” Ryomen panicked and took the animal from you.

“Ryo, be careful!”

“Begone you disgusting vermin!” He dropped it and opened the door, thinking it was going to leave.

“That’s my pet,” you hurried over and took the small animal in your arms, caressing its fur as an attempt to comfort it. “He’s a guinea pig.”

“A what?! What an abomination,” he spat. “Why would you keep a rat and pig hybrid?”

“Calm down. It can’t even hurt a fly.”

“I want it out of the house,” said Ryomen. Those were the last words he said to you before you left to run errands.

You went out to buy food and bedding for your guinea pig. You were worried that leaving it with Ryomen was a bad idea. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, it’s just that Ryomen didn’t know how to act around it so you can’t blame him for the way he reacted. If he did end up doing harm to it, you weren’t gonna let him off and you’d probably spend a month sleeping on the couch to show him how angry you were.

You crossed your fingers, nervously staring at the door knob. You inserted the key and turned it around, slowly twisting the knob and peeking through the small opening.

“Ryo?!” You gasped.

There he was, sitting on the couch with the guinea pig on his lap while he watched a horror movie. He hand was firmly placed on the guinea pig’s back, gently caressing it like you did. He turned to look at you and smirked.

“I have tamed the dirty beast.”

“i don’t get you,” sukuna mutters, arms resting on his knees as he stares at your cat, who sits primly on the floor, tail flicking lazily. “you’re small. your head is tiny. you have no claws worth a damn, and yet you strut around like you own this place.”

your cat blinks at him slowly. the audacity.

“oh, so now you’re being mysterious? yeah, real intimidating, runt,” sukuna scoffs, leaning in. “tell me, why the hell do you scream at five in the morning for no reason?”

your cat meows. sukuna nods, as if that was an actual answer.

“nah, i don’t buy it. i know when someone’s bullshitting me.” he strokes his chin, as if deep in thought. “and what’s with the scratching? you have a whole damn tree to tear up, but no, it’s gotta be the couch, huh? or my chair. my throne in this shitty modern world.”

your cat remains utterly unfazed, licking a paw and dragging it over its ear. sukuna clicks his tongue in frustration.

“you think you’re untouchable. you think you can do whatever you want just ‘cause you’re small and cute?” he narrows his eyes. “you remind me of someone.”

you narrow your eyes right back from your hiding spot behind the doorway. excuse me?

but sukuna is too deep in his investigation to notice. he gestures toward your phone lying face-down on the table. “and what’s with you and cameras huh? every time there’s a flash, you go feral. you act like you’re being dragged to hell.”

your cat’s ears twitch. a clear tell.

“ohhhh,” sukuna smirks, leaning in like he’s caught onto something juicy. “what, you got a dark past? you some kinda criminal? don’t want your face out there ‘cause you’re on a hit list?”

the cat swipes at sukuna’s knee, and he actually pulls back with a scoff. “oi, don’t get violent with me, brat. i asked a simple question.”

you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“i should make you my disciple,” sukuna suddenly muses, tilting his head as he assesses the feline before him. “you got the attitude down. the little mind games. yeah… you could be something great.”

your cat sneezes.

sukuna frowns, as if personally offended. “...you’re turning down my offer? just like that?”

he sits back with a dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “unbelievable. you’re worse than your owner.”

excuse me again???

before you can march in and object, your cat gets up, stretches leisurely, and then—just to really assert dominance—turns around and sticks its tail right in sukuna’s face before trotting off.

he stares after it, jaw clenched, eye twitching.

“…i’m gonna eat it.”

you finally lose the battle against your laughter.

when you die, gojo is still in denial. they say there are five stages of grief, yet he still hasn't been past that first phase. he misses it a lot. your touch on his skin. the way you'd trace random lines on his thighs when you were so indulge in a book. and that sudden grip whenever you came across a thrilling part of it. he always chuckled at your sudden "whats" and "awws".

he misses how your voice would always get gentler when you spoke to him. your usual voice was a little loud but whenever you spoke to him, you'd be so sweet and calm.

he misses how you'd outshine anyone and everyone around you. even him. the strongest. your smile was brighter than the diamond on your engagement ring. but life is unfair, isn't it? he was so excited to turn you from his fiánce to his wife, only to find you dead and cold on the ground, the crimson blood filming the diamond, drenching it in itself.

but to this day, even after so many years, he still finds himself in denial when he accidentally (to what it seems like a hundredth accident) calls you his wife mid conversation with someone else. "oh my wife loves this...perfume," he says to the worker, his voice fading in the end when he realizes he was supposed to use past tense. "loved"

"why don't you gift it to her? i am sure she'll love it," the girl smiles. if only she knew.

but he buys it anyway. decorates it with pink ribbons and stuff, even when he knew you were not there to open it anymore. he comes home, sits in one dim light of the bedroom, unwrapping it. he sprays the perfume on one of your dress that he loved. your scent. god he misses it. the cerulean eyes mimic an ocean once again in the wait of his lover. a useless wait for you were never arriving on his door ever again.

Apologizing for being wrong after an argument

Including: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Yuuji, and Megumi

my smau masterlists one and two

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

eddie you say? 👀 if we’re talking eddie again can i request relationshipy fluff? Like sleepovers or something??

okay so verdict is .. we all missed eddie?

When Wayne Munson slid you a key to his house over coffee, he didn’t expect to have you sneaking in at two am.

You’d snuck in quietly, crept into Eddie’s room, toed your shoes off, and peeled the puffer you wore—over your pajamas—off your chilled body. His room smelt like lingering weed and cologne as you’d entered, but as you crawl into his bed the smell subsided.

“Eddie,” you whisper into his neck, preening for the reciprocation of his touch. “Eddie.”

He moves, shuffling in his sleep. He’s pretty like this, though you’re afraid he’s always pretty. Cheek pink from where it dug into his arm, hair mussed from sleep. He’s shirtless and warm, heat emanating from his smooth skin. Eddie’s always been like this; a heater. In the summer he can’t stand the way you move away from him in your sleep, desperate for some air.

“Baby,” you whisper a little louder, like a child commanding the attention of their mother. Any other night this may embarrass you, but you’re too desperate for his affection right now.

Slowly, he rouses. He doesn’t notice you at first, too occupied with the floating feeling of the in between sleep realm, or maybe too used to the feeling of you next to him to notice discrepancy. When he does though, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt at his initial fear. Flinching, he moves to shuffle away before the streetlight casting in from his bedroom window catches on your face.

“Hi, I’m sorry.”

“Y/n?” He murmurs, voice thick with sleep. “Baby..” he rubs his eyes forcefully and you can’t tell if it’s apart of his usual dramatics or his sleepy stupor. “What are you doing here?”

You frown moving closer quietly, nestling yourself into him. He peers at you with the curiosity of a scientist and his creation. You’d’ve never done this in the beginning. Too scared to ask Mr. Munson Wayne for a glass of water. “Missed you.”

“So, we’re just breaking and entering now?” His hand comes up to cradle your head gently. He’s not serious, anything but it. His girlfriend appearing in his bed is a gift horse he’d never be stupid enough to look in the mouth. Leaning down, he nuzzles his nose in your hair, pressing a long kiss to the skin he finds. “You have work tomorrow, my love.”

“It’s not breaking and entering, I have your house key.”

You manage the sentence like it takes the most out of you; like you want the preserve the feeling of sleep holding you down; to stave away any alertness you can find.

“You have work tomorrow.” He repeats, sleepy concern lacing his voice.

“Steve can open without me.”

Eddie grumbles. It’s true. Slowly, he lowers himself back down to lay beside you, letting you climb your way on top. Your arms snake around him, desperate for any skin you can find. You want to feel him, to be as close to him as possible. You’ve missed him so much over vacation, lying with him right now doesn’t feel real. It’s carnal the way you squeeze his back, though there’s nothing lustful in the touch. He groans, letting himself wrap around you as well.

“You missed me?”

You’re too lost in his heartbeat to register his voice, too sleepy to respond. “Mhm.”

His nails drag up and down your back slowly. “Missed you too.”

You shiver, kissing his chest in response. There’s no need for words when the both of you feel like this; tired and in love. He pulls the old duvet higher up over the both of you to cover your back completely.

And that’s how Wayne finds you the next morning. Tangled in each other like sticky spaghetti.

“Hey, boy, have you seen..”

He pauses, hand on the cold doorknob. It’s certainly a sight Wayne thinks. Eyeing the shoes and backpack of work clothes on the floor, his eyes flit back up to the tangle of lovers. You lay practically all the way on top of Eddie, long sleeves and pants you’d picked out to protect you from the chill drowning you. Under the fabric that is your pajamas, Eddie snores softly, arm still around your middle. This is the type of parenting Wayne never thought he’d have to do with Eddie. He shakes his head, weary smile playing on his lips as he leaves the room to find his boots himself.

He’d given you the key for a reason.

Eddie is the opposite of a nonchalant boyfriend

Masterlist

Context: Nonchalant boyfriend was an internet phenomenon where girls were talking about their, you guessed it, nonchalant boyfriends avoidant attachment style lowkey saying things like, "when he's nonchalant and u never know if he actually likes you or if he doesn't even care abt ur existence" and, "pov: dating a nonchalant guy who never compliments you when you're a words of affirmation girl"

Asks are open, please for the love of god talk to me about Eddie.

Warnings: mentions of a period, a pinch of spiciness, that's it.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Have this thought that turned long while I continue writing my magnum opus, it is an Eddie x Popular!Reader enemies to situationship to lovers based on the song imgonnagetyouback by Taylor Swift. It's currently at 14k words and I haven't even hit the real drama yet lmao. If anybody applies the slightest bit of pressure on me I will fold like a wet noodle and give you guys an excerpt. I've been planning it out and drafting it this whole week so it should be a well-structured story unlike my other long one.

Eddie declares war on all nonchalant boyfriends. 

He’s never been nonchalant about anything in his entire life, and he’s not gonna start now, not with you. 

No longer will you wonder if your boyfriend thinks you look pretty or if he thought about you that day. 

With Eddie, he thinks about so many things during the day, you included, that he has to write the ones about you down so he can tell you later when you both get home from work. 

He runs down the paper like it’s his grocery list, “Okay, first of all Joe was playing the radio in the shop today and Queen came on and it made me think of you.” 

Your heart flutters at the sentiment, “Aw, what song was it?” You’re curious to know what it was so you can go listen to it, even though you’ve more than likely heard it a million times. You just want to listen to it from his perspective, imagining what lines made him think of you. 

You giddily wonder if it was Killer Queen, you do have an insatiable appetite for him. Or maybe it was Somebody To Love, you swoon at the thought of Eddie hearing the choir-like chanting, ‘Find me somebody to love,’ knowing he’s coming home to you. His somebody. 

Your rose-colored thoughts are dashed when he quips his answer. 

“Fat Bottomed Girls,” he’s got a proud grin stretched across his face before he looks at his lengthy list once more, quickly moving on. 

Your eyes deaden, lips pressed into a thin line, “Okay.” A tone of defeat saturating the word, you should’ve known better. That’s about right for Eddie, your perpetually horny boyfriend. 

He continues as if he’s presenting on a time limit, too much to say, please hold all questions ‘til the end. 

“Okay, up next, I stopped at Bradley’s Big Buy on the way home and bought you a new bag of tootsie rolls.” He reaches into the paper bag on the chair beside him and plops the huge bag of the sugary treat on the counter. “I checked the pantry this morning and saw we’re running low. Plus, your period is supposed to come this week and I can’t be without my greatest allies.” He finishes by patting the crinkling bag. 

You furrow your brow, jerk your head back, eyes flutter-blinking in a questioning manner, how did he know you’re supposed to get your period this week?

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” he waves off your confusion as if it’s preposterous, “I keep up with my girl, and my girl’s girl.” He gestures vaguely to your lower half, it makes you snort. 

“Did you just refer to my vagina as sentient?” Your eyebrows are furrowed, eyes alight with mirth. 

He shrugs, “You know me.” He’s so blasé with it, as if those three words explain everything. 

What you don’t know is he keeps a little pocket calendar that he uses to mark your menstrual cycle. He wants to know when his girl isn’t feeling very good, but he also wants to know when his girl is feeling extra good. 

“Moving forward,” he shouts with a finger up in the air, turning his nose up as if frustrated by your incessant interruptions. Such a drama queen, you think. 

“Gareth asked me if we want to go on a double date with him and Jenna this Friday, I told him I’d ask the old Ball & Chain.” He’s grinning when he says it, preparing for your inevitable smack. 

And you do smack him, right on his shoulder. “Hey! I’m not a Ball & Chain until you lock it down,” is your only response, you can’t help but smile at the glee in his eyes when you mention being his forever. 

“You’re so right, my dearest, how very silly of me.” He says it in a stilted overly-formal voice like he’s a 1940s business man puffing on a cigar. “But mark my words, you will be my Ball & Chain,” he says in a playful threat, “When you least expect it, that’s when I’ll strike.”

You shake your head, smiling at his stupidity. He’s smug at the fact that you don’t know he’s been wearing the engagement ring he bought you around his neck, beneath his clothes, for the past four months just waiting for the perfect moment.

“Yes, let’s do dinner, what’s next,” you question, craning your neck forward to get a glimpse at his chicken scratch writing. 

He jerks the paper away from your view, it’s then that you realize he’s written all of this on the back of a purchasing request from the shop. You see the logo for ‘Joe’s Cars’ at the top of the page, god, you hope they didn’t need this document for their files. 

He holds the paper to his chest, reprimanding you like you’re a nosy kid, “No peeking!” 

You laugh as you settle back into your stance in front of him, waiting for what he has to say next. 

“On my way home I saw a banner on the mall advertising a sale at the Gap and I figured we could go get you that dress you saw in the catalog the other day. Maybe you can wear that to dinner with Gareth and Jenna,” he suggests. 

It’s so straightforward the way he says it. He’s waiting for your response, but you’re nearly choking back tears at the way he loves you. The way he sees you.

You had shown him the dress last week while he was building you a shelf for your joint bedroom. The shelf would be a place for you to put your romance novels, a lot of Jilly Cooper and Jackie Collins, something your ex would’ve never done. He always made you feel bad for reading those types of books, but not Eddie. Eddie built you a place to display them proudly in your room, no longer having to dig under the bed to reread them. 

When you showed him the dress, you didn’t think he actually remembered the interaction. He gave you his attention when you talked about how pretty it was and how much you liked the pleated skirt, but you just thought it went in one ear and out the other. You thought that he was probably nodding, ‘oo’-ing and ‘ah’-ing until you’d go away, leaving him to work. 

But here he was a week later, having remembered the exact dress and the exact store, offering to buy it for a silly little dinner. 

You smile at him with watery eyes, nodding, “Yeah, I’d like that very much,” you move to kiss him, but he holds up his hand to stop you. A pinch of worry squeezes your heart before he says, “Hold on I’m not done yet!” 

His hand still held in the air, he dutifully looks at his list as if he’s reading something lengthy, preparing to recite the next thought he had at work that he needed to share with you. 

He takes a big breath in before turning to you to share the last thing, “And- I love you.” He says it with the sweetest smile on his face, just happy to talk to you, happy to come home to you. 

It takes you a minute to grasp what he said. That was it. That was the last thing he thought at work that he needed to tell you. Wrote it down and everything. 

He stopped your incoming kiss and affection to tell you that, he gave you pause thinking you rudely cut him off again. But he just wanted to tell you he thought about how he loves you while at work.

He’s so stupid, you think fondly. He’s your stupid, silly, dramatic, lover boy. 

Your close-mouthed smile is so big it makes your eyes squint shut, nose scrunching as you shake your head at his antics. A huffing laugh leaves your nose as you reach for him, his arm pulls you in for the sweetest kiss, the one you get to have every day with him. 

“I love you too, stupid face.” 

You love your non-nonchalant boyfriend. 

Bonus: 

On Friday, you’re getting ready for the double-date in the bathroom, touching up your makeup in preparation to show Eddie. 

“Teddie!” You call out the fond nickname, he loves when you call him that, it liquifies his insides. You always make him melt. 

You can hear his soft thudding steps into the bedroom, a slight squeak of the bed as he sits down. 

“You ready to see?” Your voice echoes from behind the door, he can hear the smile in your voice and it makes him smile. 

“So ready,” he grins, “Gimme my prize, baby. Show me what’s behind door number one!” His imitation of a game show host is weirdly good, he blames it on Wayne’s addiction to old reruns of Let’s Make A Deal.

You open the door, stepping out, nervously brushing the nonexistent wrinkles out of the skirt with your hands. You look up at his face, asking a hesitant, “How do I look?”

He’s frozen in his spot, his eyes are wide as they take in the angel in front of him. He finds you sexy any way you come, but he does love when a gift is covered in pretty wrapping. 

Your confidence grows at his speechlessness, you know him well enough to know it's good speechless. 

He stands up abruptly, “Excuse me- I gotta-hold on-,” and he’s out the front door. You have no idea where he’s going, but knowing him, this is for dramatic effect. So you sit down on the bed and wait, crossing one healed leg over the other, leaning back on your arms, bobbing your foot idly. 

When he comes back in thirty seconds later his black suit is disheveled, his hair no longer neat in a ponytail. The shorter curls are windswept as they frame his face, he’s unbuttoned his dress shirt to his sternum, he’s breathing hard and ragged. You stand at his entrance, hands on your hips, an amused glint in your eyes. 

His cheeks are pink with exertion and sweat beads at his hairline, “Sorry, you’re so hot I literally had to take a lap, I’m back now, we’re good to go. You look amazing, by the way.” He leans in to hold you in a kiss, but you put your hands up to stop his body from touching yours. 

You're giggling at his antics, ‘Ew, you’re all sweaty now,” you whine. 

He grins mischievously, “Oh good, then it won’t matter if I get even more sweaty.” Next thing you know he’s clumsily grabbing the sides of your head, pulling you in for a comically sloppy kiss, and pressing his body to yours desperately. You can feel his leg hitch onto your body like he’s about to climb you like a damn tree. 

You break the silly kiss with a loud laugh, tossing your head back, “Eddieeeeuhhh!” 

A/N: please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed it. Comments encourage me to write more, they're like a shot of espresso to my heart.

EDDIE MUNSON’S ♡ LOVE GUIDE ♡

contents: this is a little guide/headcannon on what it’s like for our beloved eddie munson to have a crush or date someone. this is somewhat similar to the a-z sfw/nsfw lists i did a little while ago but a little more detailed and strung together. word count - 782

notes: this was so fun to make i wish eddie was my bf :( enjoy!

other works (that are similar): three songs | a-z sfw list

⟡ what it's like for eddie to have a crush ⟡

eddie is the type of guy to be boldly flirty with someone that he’s interested, having no fear to compliment you or make suggestive comments. however, when you approach him or make flirty comments to him, eddie shuts down not knowing how to respond/function.

eddie believes in chivalry still, so he wants to make the first move but he never knows how. he’ll overthink to his friends, day after day, trying to navigate how to ask you out without being weird. his friends get annoyed with him, often rolling their eyes as he talks about you for the thousandth time that day. they wish either of you would just make a move so they can stop hearing your name being mentioned by eddie.

eddie also hates when he has a crush because he can physically feel himself become obsessed, taking any opportunity to spot you across the hallways in school or stare at the back of your head or profile of your face while he sits in class. he feels himself go from being the nerd, or the freak as people refer to him, to being a lovesick puppy, ready to serve you at any moment. he also becomes flirty and nervous, blushing like crazy as you make eye contact with him or flirt. god, he has such a love hate relationship with having a crush. can’t you just be his already?

when eddie asks you out, finally, he’s flustered and jumbles his words as he speaks quickly. “would you want to go out with me sometime? like on a date?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. his stomach is knots, full of angst, as he exposes his deep admiration for you. when you smile, nodding eagerly, he feels instant relief and his mind is quick to beginning planning how he’ll create the best date you could ever go on.

⟡ what it's like for eddie to date someone ⟡

when eddie dates someone, he is the most sweetest bf in the entire world. he’s so concerned with gf, making it obvious that he cares for you deeply. he’ll always ask if you’ve eaten or if you’re hungry. he’ll let you play your “girly pop” music as he refers to the music you listen to, even though he can’t stand it because he loves you so much.

eddie loves giving you affection; in public, he’ll hold your hand or put his arm around you, make even a little kiss on the cheek. he isn’t the biggest fan of public affection but he also likes to make it known that you’re his. in private, however, he’s awfully romantic and cheeky. he loves to make out with you, letting time pass by as you engage with each other’s mouths, his hands roaming around your body.

eddie feels so safe with you as his girlfriend, knowing he can be vulnerable and nerdy in front of you. he know’s you’ll listen to him nerd out about his d&d trials and updates on how the hellfire is dealing with the watch of vecna.

eddie also nicknames you early on in your relationship, wiping your name from his mouth. you’re “baby” or “princess” to eddie, the affectionate names rolling off his tongue with ease. occasionally, eddie says “my sweet girl,” loving how your face relaxes and a smile appears when he calls you that. he knows it’s your favorite nickname but he saves it for rainy days when you’re feeling extra low and need a pick up.

our precious eddie also likes to include you in things he likes. eddie is quick to introduce you to his hellfire club friends, making sure you are well aquatinted with them and know they’re now your friends too. eddie also introduces you to the members in his band; making it clear that he requests your presence, every week, when they perform at the hideaway. you always go, of course. the biggest deal of all, though, is that he lets you mess around on his most prized possession - his guitar.

to be the best bf possible, eddie is sure to spoil you relentlessly. he brings you things that reminds him of you, or make you little birdhouses while he’s in wood shop class. he’ll make mixtapes of songs he hears and thinks you’ll like or bring you to your favorite restaurant after school. eddie will even risk his life, aka climbing up the short trellis that’s against your house up to your window, to visit you when your parents won’t let you go out. eddie will do anything and everything - you’re his princess after all.

Thinking about that part of a relationship where you really begin to trust someone. Eddie’s head is on your lap, your fingers tracing the lines on his hand as he opens up to you, rambling on and on. He’s never had someone listen to him like this and before you know it hours have passed. Hours of learning new things about him. Listening carefully. Adoring every second of his dramatic facial expressions as he tells you his stories. Some filled with joy. Some filled with heartache. Some making your eyes pool with tears as he touches on parts of his childhood before Wayne. And then you see his eyes light up and his familiar grin appear as he begins to talk about his Uncle. And how much hell he’s given him throughout the years. You run your fingers through his curls as he continues to share his adventures with you. Hanging on to his every word, making him feel safe and loved and heard.

Idk I’m feeling SAPPY 😭

thinking about post time skip haikyuu is so funny to be bc the people who know other people is crazy like what must normal people in that universe think

like why does youtuber streamer and owner of bouncing ball co kozume kenma aka kodzuken know the libero of this russian team and this half russian model and this comedian / chef and also a bunch of div 1&2 pro volleyball players and his childhood bsf works for the jva

some kid comes to class one day and his teacher knows half the japanese national team ????? THIS RANDOM COP IN MIYAGI IS A SENPAI TO HINATA SHOYO AND KAGEYAMA TOBIO i’m in tears actually this is so funny how have i never considered this

yachi taking time off for the olympics and her colleagues are like oh omg what are you watching? you could come and watch at this bar with us! and she’s like actually my super famous besties got me tickets to go see the games IN PERSON and that’s how they learn she’s besties with hinata and kageyama bc she also posts a selfie w them and yamaguchi and tsukishima

new fans are so confused on how and why hinata knows so many people??? why is he on good terms with the japanese guy who plays for that one polish team? why is he posting selfies with san juan’s star setter???? why is san juan’s star setter married to THE JAPANESE TEAMS ATHLETIC TRAINER??? WHAT IS HAPPENING

everyone and everything is connected

ib by this post by @webism. sukuna's version got me thinking a lot..

sukuna’s a biter.

not in any kind of sultry, seductive way — no, he’s far too infuriating for that. it’s more primal, like some oversized cat with too many teeth and too much pride.

he clamps down on you, sometimes your arm, sometimes your shoulder, dragging you into his orbit with a hold that’s firm enough to demand attention but careful enough to leave you unscathed. it’s ridiculous, really — his sharp teeth against your soft skin, a predator playfully toying with prey he’ll never devour.

“careful,” he’ll growl, a smirk tugging at his lips, “or i will eat you.” and somehow, it sounds less like a joke and more like a looming promise.

but you know better. for all his bluster, he won’t — he can’t. not now, not ever. you, in your absurd, fragile humanness, have gnawed your way past his armor, straight into the heart of the beast. the irony isn’t lost on him — how his bites might leave fleeting marks on your skin, but yours have burrowed deep into his very core, stubborn and unyielding.

how bizarre, he thinks, sinking his teeth into you once more, just to feel the proof of you against him. and even more bizarre? how he hopes you never pull away.