Eddie Munson Who Talks A Lot When He’s In Public And Is Quiet When At Home 🤝🏼 Partner Who Is

GEGE WHEN I CATCH YOU GEGE WHEN I FUCKING CATCH YOU-

❦ TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF PT. 2

ft. sakusa, kageyama, atsumu

PART 1 | PART 3

—sakusa

when people ask you what your skin care routine is, you shrug. how are you supposed to know if you’re not the one that does it? your boyfriend does. you’re his little doll that sits pretty for him as he places the products in his hands to warm them up before patting them on your soft skin (patting, not rubbing, he’s very insistent on that). it’s a multiple step routine everyday and sometimes he’s very annoying about it, but he rewards you with a soft kiss on your lips every single time without fail.

—kageyama

takes you two on a monthly date to get your nails done. the both of you are sitting side by side as your cuticles are getting cut and his nails are getting shaped. he’s helping you pick out a new colour and he’s telling the nail techs all the new shit that’s going on with his team. even though he doesn’t get any polish (doesn’t want anything on his fingers) he still blows on them like he sees you do. then he’s paying and, depending on the weather, taking you to get a drink so you can show everyone at the cafe your new nails.

—atsumu

sometimes washing your hair is a hassle. you get into a rut where you can’t bring yourself to shower despite feeling like shit. that’s where your boyfriend comes in, with his wide smile and gentle teasing, he sits you down in the tub and lets the hot water run down your body. he’s mixing together random shampoos, acting like they’re different ingredients for a salad that is your hair. his fingers are massaging your scalp as he pretends to ‘toss’ the ‘ingredients’ together. it’s sweet and funny and even if it doesn’t bring you out of your slump, it makes you feel clean and loved.

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.

You climb into bed, Sukuna’s large body sinking into the space next to you.

You curl into his broad chest, making yourself comfortable. His four arms hold you tight against him, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth.

“Good night, Kuna~” you coo, snuggling closer into his embrace.

“Good night, brat.” he mumbles, nuzzling his face into your hair. He waits expectantly, growing slightly irritated at your silence.

“Hey...” he frowns, squeezing you tight—your soft snores making him more frustrated.

How did he get stuck with such a disrespectful human?

He shook you gently.

“Wake. Up.” His voice low and commanding, with a hint of impatience.

Your eyes flutter open from the rocking motion, you look up at your boyfriend confused.

“What happened?” You question, eliciting an eye roll and dramatic huff from the larger man.

“You did not give me a proper good night.” He mumbles, gaze not meeting yours. Your eyebrow quirks up in confusion.

“I said good night… oh!” You reach up to peck his cheek, he grunts in response. “Sorry—“

“No.” He sneers, tightening his grip on you. “You are forgetting something else.”

“Say good night… correctly.” You can almost make out a pout forming on his lips. Your eyes widen in realization, a grin spreading across your face.

“The hell’s wrong with your face—“

“Good night Kuna.. I Love You.”

He grunts, the tension in his body easing slightly, loosening his grip on you as he takes a deep breath.

“Do not forget again.”

you’re sleepy. Eddie can’t help but love on you. eddie munson x fem!reader, ~600 words

It’s been a long, long day, and you’re really feeling it. Your feet hurt, your back aches, your eyelids feel much heavier than you think they have a right to.

You’re curled up on top of the plush bed covers, nearly asleep. In the distance, there’s the click of the front door unlocking, and then footsteps in the hallway, and then the thud of heavy boots being kicked off and forgotten.

“Sweetheart?”

Eddie pads through the apartment, poking his head curiously into the bedroom. You generally try not to nap after work, so you won’t have trouble falling asleep later in the night. But there you are: just half-awake, too exhausted to even crawl beneath the blanket.

He softens. “Hey, pretty,” he says as he crosses the room, coming to a stop next to the bed. He stands over you, and reaches down to stroke a gentle finger across your cheek. “You okay?”

You yawn and nod. “M’tired.”

Eddie chuckles. “I can see that. Busy day?”

“Mmhmm.” You’re unwilling — or simply unable — to verbalize much more.

His hand slips around to the back of your head, cradling it sweetly in his palm. The tips of his ringed fingers work through your hair and rub gently at your scalp. You twist on the bed and try to push your head deeper into his hand, wanting more of his touch.

A rush of affection surges through his chest; pure love with a dash of amusement. He loves it when you get like this. Cuddly and needy and warm, eager to be loved on by him — him, Eddie Munson, of all people.

He crouches down beside the bed so you’re at eye-level and leans in to smother you with kisses. He leaves no feature untouched, pressing his lips to every square inch of your face: your forehead, your closed eyes, the tip of your nose. He smacks kisses to each cheek and to your chin, dots them all the way around your jawline, until he hits that sweet spot right underneath your ear.

“Mmm,” you sigh in quiet delight, hands grasping at his sturdy shoulders.

“Is that nice?” The words are muffled, his mouth still working against your skin.

You nod.

Eddie gathers you up in his arms, careful not to jostle you too roughly. He’s not really trying to get you riled up (although he’s not completely opposed to the idea); he just wants a moment with his girl.

You mumble against his lips. “Eddie?”

He gives you another peck. “Yeah?”

You play with a curly tendril of hair, twirling it around your finger. “I thought about you all day today,” you whisper.

At those words Eddie swears he can feel everything inside of him move.

If anyone ever asked him to describe what love feels like, he doesn’t think he could explain it any further than that.

“You did?” he whispers back.

“Uh-huh.”

“All day?” His face splits into a slow smile, one that’s syrupy-sweet, and his eyes glitter, brows raised. “Really?”

He’s teasing you, but only a little.

You laugh breathlessly. “All day,” you repeat.

He hums in response and pulls you in even closer, so he can give you a proper kiss, one that’s slow and precise.

Your body slumps against his, letting Eddie’s strong arms support your weight.

“Alright, sleepy girl.” He noses at your hairline. “Why don’t I at least make us dinner first, before you go passing out on me?”

“Mmkay.” You let yourself fall back down onto the pillows with a hazy smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

When he reaches the doorway, he turns back and blows you another kiss.

You find out early on in your relationship with Kuroo that sharing a bed with him can be stressful. When he strutted into the bathroom only wearing a pair of boxers that left little to the imagination, you were already overcome by nerves. You two hadn't had sex yet, and you were still flustered over the fact that this fine ass man was all yours. Of course Kuroo being the cocky guy he is ended up teasing you for staring, causing you to turn over to hide your blushed face. He wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and you get even more flustered. After you get used to the feeling of him nuzzled behind you, you start to fall asleep. You are rudely interrupted by one of the loudest snores you ever heard. You honestly think that he might be doing it on purpose to get you to finally pay attention to him again, but when you glance over your shoulder you can clearly see that he is fast asleep. You turn your head back over and try to bury your head into the pillows to muffle the noise, but you can still hear him somehow. After a few minutes it starts to die down a little, and you gladly fall back asleep. When you wake up to Kuroo's head still nestled into your neck, and his arms wrapped around your waist you feel like it definitely makes up for the snoring.( but you wouldn't be opposed to getting him breathing strips )

----------♡

Eddie is the type of boyfriend who attempts to teach you guitar but he's the one getting distracted.

You sit in the space between his legs at the edge of the bed with the tip of your tongue sticking out the tiniest bit between the pout of your lips. The crease in the middle of your brows deepens in concentration and Eddie just absolutely loves it. His eyes can't seem to find a spot to focus on, darting from your eyes and lips, keeping a particular focus on your tongue every once in a while.

His hands are braced against your thighs, rough fingers digging into the coarse fabric of your jeans -though he wishes he was touching the softness of your skin- and his nose moves to not so subtly dig into the juncture of your shoulder.

You take a second to look at him and God does it feel good for him to know that even just looking at him removes the frustration from your face and replaces it with a warming smile.

"Y'know, you're supposed to actually teach me something right?" Your smile turns into an almost devilish smirk and one of your brows cock up in a teasing manner.

Eddie only nuzzles his face deeper into you, loving the way you've started to smell like him the longer you're in his room. "You're distracting me," Your eyes roll at the way you can almost hear the faux sulk on his face.

Laughing you push his head away from you - he groans dramatically and throws himself back against the bed- and place the guitar gently against the floor, "How am I being distracting, I'm not even doing anything!" Eddie adores the giggles that escape you between words.

He scoffs like your words bring him offense, "Well maybe if you weren't so damn gorgeous I could focus better- ever thought about that?"

You roll your eyes again but you secretly find much delight in his theatrical personality.

You twist your body and move to straddle him taking pride in the way Eddie gulps, "Oh you're right," Your hand gently cups his cheek; he leans into the touch without much thought, "It's all my fault, isn't it, baby?"

He gulps again, "Mhm, yeah, all your fault."

constellations ~ yamaguchi

characters: Yamaguchi x gn!Reader content:(sfw!) established relationship, pure fluff, soft kisses and blushy Yams, treating him like the princess he is word count: 362

Thinking about teaching Yamaguchi the constellations. Excitedly pulling up a map on your phone and pointing them out, taking care to point out Scorpio, his zodiac sign. He looks over them all with such awe and wonder as you go through them. After checking the forecast, you realize that it would be clear enough tonight for the both of you to go stargazing together. You'd just have to wait for the sun to set.

⊱ ─────── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─────── ⊰

You look over the constellations on Yamaguchi's cheeks, jokingly pointing them out. "Look, there's Cygnus... and here's Cepheus." You trace a soft finger across his skin, connecting the freckles to each other in replicas of the stars. A red heat blooms under each spot your finger drags along.

"Are you embarrassed?" You chuckle softly, cupping his warm cheeks, his whole face flushing your favorite shade of red.

"A-ah... no... maybe a little? But not in a bad way!" He looks up at you with a timid smile. His hands reach up, encircling your wrists as he nuzzles gently into the palms of your hand. "Please don't stop..."

You kiss over the heated skin, mumbling softly as you worked your way over his freckled cheeks, "Taurus, Volans, Pyxis." You recount the constellations. He lets out a deep, satisfied sigh, his brows slightly tented. Pulling back for a moment, you get a good look at the adorable blissed out expression he's wearing.

After several minutes of reciting the stars, you were running out of constellations to name. Unwilling to stop the little game you had going, you started making up your own constellations. Peppering sweet kisses over the flushed skin as you mumbled nonsensical names, Yamaguchi was none the wiser. He leaned into your touch, soaking in the soft affection.

"Didn't you want to stargaze tonight? The sun should be set by now..." He called softly, his eyes half lidded and full of affection. His cheeks were slightly squished in the palms of your hands. You press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, causing his eyes to flutter closed.

"They're all right in front of me... Why would I ever waste my time looking at the sky?"

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝟗:𝟏𝟕 𝐏𝐌; GOJO SATORU

gojo was so tired of being the strongest. so tired of pretending nothing ever got to him.

his body felt like it could break at any moment as he made his way back to his apartment, every step heavier than the last. the mission had been hell. his body hurts in places he didn’t know existed. his usual cocky stride was gone, replaced with a stiffness that made him feel like a damn robot.

when he opened the door, he didn’t expect to see you.

you looked up from the couch, frowning at him. “satoru?”

he blinked slowly, trying to shake off the fog.

“did we have a date planned?” he asked. his voice was rough, barely more than a rasp. he hadn’t messaged you, hadn’t checked his phone—hell—he didn’t even know if he’d eaten in the past few days.

you didn’t get angry like he expected. no eye rolls, no snarky comments, no judgment like his previous relationships. instead you just stood up, and moved towards him with that careful, knowing grace. almost as if you could sense he was about to crumble.

“c’mere.”

he didn’t hesitate, stepping forward until he felt your warmth at his side. you guided him with a steady hand towards the bathroom. in that moment gojo felt as if your touch was the only thing melting him up when all he wanted to do was collapse.

his whole life, people had leaned on him—looked to him for strength. with you he here taking care of him, he felt like is was finally his turn. you treated him like he was human, not some untouchable weapon. and that’s what made him feel like maybe he wasn’t just a tool, maybe he mattered outside of his strength.

once you helped settle him on the toilet seat gojo gently held yours hips as you stepped between his legs and gently removed his blindfold. he sighed and leaned into your stomach when you scratched his scalp.

soon the soft splashing of water filled the room as you. he watched you everything you did with low eyes. if he wasn’t so tired he would’ve had had his hands all over you.

when you turned back to him your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt—he didn’t protest. you just gently slid the fabric off, your fingers brushing his sensitive sides.

you cupped his checks and tilted his face towards your own. “did you eat today?” your voice was so quiet almost completely drowned out by the sound of the tub.

he chuckled into you hand but it didn’t carry the usual lightness. “don’ remember.”

you sighed, shaking your head as you pushed his soft locks off his face. “you never take care of yourself toru.”

his lips curved into a half-smirk. “that’s what I have you for, huh?”

you didn’t laugh, didn’t tease him back like you usually would. instead, you just gave him that look—the one that made his chest tighten. the one that saw through his tough exterior without even trying.

“get in.”

he sank into the tub, the warmth cascading all over his sore muscles in a way they made him groan. a shaky breath escaped his lips when you places his head in your lap from your place on the edge. and finally, with silver strands sticking to his forehead, bags underneath his eyes, head in your lap—gojos body finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever.

he was on the verge of sleep when he felt you stand.

his fingers twitched over the rim of the tub. “stay.” it wasn’t a command, wasn’t playful. just quiet. unsure. like he was afraid to ask.

you paused for a moment, but then you stripped and stepped in behind him, the water shifting with your weight. when your arms wrapped around him, pulling his back against you, he felt himself melting into the embrace.

your fingers slid back into his hair, massaging gently, your nails grazing his scalp in a way that made his whole body relax under your touch. you other hand was drawing small shapes into his chest.

no one had ever touched him like this. no one ever cared without expecting something in return.

“toru,” you whispered, lips brushing against his temple “you don’t have to do everything alone.”

his fingers curled around your wrist, holding you close, as if anchoring himself to you. “don’t go anywhere,” he whispered.

you pressed a soft kiss to his hair. “I won’t. never.”

his world had always been too loud. too fast. too demanding—but with you here, everything slowed. everything quieted.

he let himself sink into it—let himself need you. and, for the first time since he could remember, he felt was it was like to be loved unconditionally.

Jealousy: Kyotani (Mad Dog)

The bar was crowded—not uncomfortably, but just enough that the air pulsed with low music and the warm scent of whiskey and fryer oil. The lights were low, warm and golden, casting soft shadows over tables cluttered with drinks and peeling coaster edges. Glass clinked softly in the background, a lazy rhythm to the Friday night energy building in waves.

You were leaning against the bar, waiting for your drinks, while Kyōtani had ducked away to use the bathroom. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you ignored it, eyes on the bartender shaking cocktails two seats down.

Which was, in hindsight, the exact moment the universe decided to test your patience.

“Hey there,” came a voice to your left—slurred, low, and too close. You caught the sour tang of beer on his breath before you saw his face.

You didn’t turn immediately. You’d felt it coming—like a storm you could smell in the air.

“I been watchin’ you from across the bar,” the man said, a lazy, drunken confidence in his voice. “You look like you could use some company.”

You exhaled slowly through your nose. “I’m good, thanks.”

He chuckled. “C’mon. Don’t be like that. I’ll buy you a drink, sweetheart.”

You turned your head, offering a cool, unimpressed stare. His eyes were glassy, cheeks blotched red from too much alcohol, and his grin was the kind of smarmy that made your skin crawl.

“You don’t wanna do that,” you said flatly.

The guy blinked. “What? Buy a pretty girl a drink?”

“No.” You shifted your weight, voice firm. “Hit on someone who’s taken.”

He raised a brow, like he thought you were bluffing. “Taken? Don’t see anyone here. You ditched him already?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You need to back off.”

But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. Men like that never did.

Instead, he laughed—loudly, like he’d just heard the best joke of the night. “Relax, baby. You’re hot. I’m just tryin’ to show some appreciation.”

You turned back toward the bar, trying to signal the bartender, but the guy didn’t take the hint. You felt him step closer, invading your space. Then his hand brushed your arm—too familiar, too bold.

That was when you felt it.

The air shifted. Like the pressure dropped.

A presence behind you—heavy, hot, and unmistakable.

Kyōtani.

A shadow passed over the drunk guy’s face, but he didn’t turn fast enough.

Kyōtani didn’t speak. He didn’t posture. He didn’t warn.

He just swung.

A blur of movement exploded at your side—a crack, loud and sharp, followed by the thump of a body hitting the ground. The guy lay sprawled across the scuffed floorboards, groaning, his hand cupping his jaw as shocked silence rippled through the nearby tables.

Kyōtani stood over him, jaw clenched, one hand still curled into a tight fist, his broad chest rising and falling as he stared down at the guy like he was debating whether to throw another punch for good measure.

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even blink.

You just looked down at the groaning man and said, with a shrug and a sip of your half-warm drink, “Told you so.”

Kyōtani turned to you, golden eyes burning with residual fury, scanning your face and arms like he needed confirmation you were untouched. “He touch you?”

“Barely,” you muttered. “He tried.”

Kyōtani grunted low in his throat, gaze snapping back to the guy on the ground. “You’re lucky I stopped at one.”

The bartender said nothing. No one did.

You grabbed your second drink off the bar, rolling your eyes. “Guess I need a new gin and tonic now.”

Kyōtani huffed, throwing a protective arm around your shoulder, steering you away from the scene. “Let’s go. I hate this place anyway.”

“You hate every place.”

“Not true,” he muttered, hand tightening at your waist. “I like the ones where people don’t talk to you.”

You laughed under your breath as the two of you disappeared into the cooler night air, Kyōtani’s hand never leaving you for a second.

And as you walked, he leaned in, voice low and unrepentant.

“Next guy that touches you,” he growled, “I’m breakin’ his ribs.”

You smirked, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I know.”