De-stressing. Eddie Munson X Reader. Blurb. Fluff

It was too much.

The noise. The people. No personal space.

You were feeling a little more than burnt out from a weekend that was meant to be fun.

Morning walks for coffees and croissants. A few hours around the pool. A few at the beach. Riding bikes along the boardwalk. Games and rides. Eating all the food.

And it was fun, but you were tired.

Eddie was climbing into bed, your bed, with its dark bedding and soft pillows.

He yanks the hair tie out of his hair, dark curls falling from the bun it was in from the drive home, tossing it on the bedside table.

“Feels so good to be home,” he sighs as he sinks into the pillows, meeting your eyes with a smile lighting up his face.

Pulling the socks off your feet, you crawl into bed, immediately gluing yourself to his side.

Eddie pulls the warm comforter over you both, keeping his other arm tight around you.

Digging your face into his chest, you breathe in the scent there, Sandalwood mixed with something that is all Eddie, soothing the racing thoughts and nerves.

You tangle your leg with his, hooking your ankle in place. Your hand slides under his hoodie, traveling over his soft tummy and dusting of hair, making its way to where his heart beats steadily.

You close your eyes and feel the thumpthumpthump, breathing in time to the rhythm.

Silence fills the air for a while before Eddie breaks it with a gentle whisper.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you hum your reply as you lift your head slightly, bumping his chin like a cat seeking affection.

You press a kiss to his chest before laying your head back down, running a hand over the space where his heart lies, playing with the hairs there.

“If you wanted to get your hands on me, all you had to do was ask,” he mutters with sleep filling his voice and a goofy smirk on his face.

You shove him playfully as he giggles deliriously, the lack of good sleep over the weekend finally hitting him.

He drifts off not even five minutes later, gentle snores leaving him with the occasional sigh.

With one final press into him, wishing you could crawl into his skin, to really be one with him, you close your eyes.

Hoping to meet him in the dream world.

Osamu seems so calm and reserved to most people. (unless they see him with Atsumu) None of your mutual friends would ever expect Samu to be so needy. He is constantly texting you sweet messages in between breaks at Onigiri Miya. He comes home from work and follows behind you until you both settle on the couch together to watch one of your shows. He will either insist that you rest your entire body weight onto him so he can finally feel your body heat against him or he buries his head into your lap so you can play with his hair. Osamu isn't one for talking straight away after he gets home besides the usual asking how your day was, but when you two finally head to your shared bedroom he becomes extremely talkative. In the dark of the room he will play with your fingers as he begs you for all of the details of your day before I recounts everything that went on with him. He quietly laughs when he hears your faint snoring and pulls you into his chest so he can finally get some sleep as well.

♡ — Gojo is drunk and he misses you. He doesn’t seem to understand that you are sitting right in front of him.

“. . . and sh-she’s so talented and pretty . . . my pretty girl . . . you gotta meet her.” SATORU GOJO cocked his head to the side, grinning; his flushed cheeks and ears were a deep shade of red.

The tall man’s legs were outstretched. He was slumped over the arm of your couch, and though he looked like he was on the brink of falling asleep, he continued to ramble on, on, and on.

“Who’s pretty?” You questioned your drunk boyfriend with worry, folding your arms across your chest.

“My girl . . . my baby . . . she’s so . . . I love her. I’m in love. I miss her. I need her.” Satoru’s grin fell into a frown.

Clumsily, he fumbled around until his hand found his phone in his pocket.

“Gonna call her,” he mumbled.

His bright phone screen illuminated his glossy eyes, and it didn’t take long for him to groan in frustration over not being sober enough to find his pretty girl’s contact.

Satoru reached across the coffee table, handing his phone to you.

“Can you call her? I love her so much,” Satoru was on the verge of tears. “I wanna marry my pretty girl.”

“Who am I calling?” Your voice was shaky. As you held his phone in your hands, you tried your hardest to prepare yourself for the worst — hearing Satoru slur out another name.

Satoru’s head snapped in your direction. Strands of his messy white hair fell every which way across his face, but you could still make out his eyebrows, which were pinched in confusion.

“Hmm,” Satoru paused, giving you a slow blink, “you’re not that bright. Everyone knows . . . everyone knows Y/N is mine . . . don’t you know that? She’s my baby.”

You couldn’t fight the urge to grin, nor did you want to.

“Can you hurry?” With a whine, Satoru started to sink down until he was laid out across the couch cushions. “I’m gonna die if you don’t hurry and call her, please. Call her-call Y/N.”

“I’m right here, Satoru,” you said.

He looked at you again, processing your face for a moment. He rolled his eyes.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No . . . you’re not.”

“Okay, you know what?” With a sigh, you dialed your own number and handed the phone back to Satoru. “Here.”

Satoru eagerly grabbed his phone, smiling ear to ear at the sheer anticipation of getting to talk to you.

Naturally, your phone started to ring, and you answered it, staring at your drunk boyfriend.

“Hello?” You mumbled.

“Y/N? I miss you . . . where are you?”

“I’m right here-”

“Hold on, baby.” Satoru suddenly pulled the phone away from his ear, and he shot you a tired glare. “Can you be quiet, please? I’m trying to . . . to talk to my girlfriend.”

Satoru rolled over onto his side, his back now facing you. He put the phone back up to his ear, whispering, “This woman’s so rude, Y/N. No manners . . . where are you?”

“Satoru, sweetheart, that woman is me. I’m right behind you.” You couldn’t help but laugh just a bit.

Slowly, Satoru rolled back around, his eyes locking with yours as his lips parted to, once again, tell you to be quiet, but his annoyed gaze faded away. It changed into a blank expression. Then, as he studied your face further, there was a brief frown of confusion, but suddenly, his lips broke out into a wide smile. Satoru sat upright, unintentionally sending his phone tumbling to the rug below the couch.

“Y/N?” He motioned you towards his lap. “C’mere, sweetheart. Where’ve you been? I missed you so much . . . so much, baby.”

After tapping the red button on your phone to end the call, you then got up and made your way over. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you down onto his lap without wasting a second, his hands finding your hips as you straddled him, and he continued to ramble on, on, and on.

“Baby, there was this other woman here. She was awful . . . wouldn’t be quiet. Told her I was trying to talk to you, not her.” Satoru pulled you closer. He kissed your neck. “I missed you s-so much. Don’t leave again, okay? I don’t wanna talk to no one ‘cept you, okay, baby?”

“Okay, I promise,” you ran your fingers through his messy white hair. “I also promise to throw out all the alcohol in this house, because clearly, you can’t handle it, can you?”

“I can handle you just fine, baby. Will you kiss me now?” Satoru pulled away from your neck, those lips of his falling into a small pout.

You couldn’t help but sigh and smile over him misunderstanding everything right now.

Your needy, drunk boyfriend placed his large hand on the back of your head, guiding your lips towards his, kissing you deeply. All the while, you couldn’t help but wonder if your boyfriend was this needy when he was sober, but kept it a secret.

He certainly was.

🏷️: @sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @luvvmae @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @thewondrousdreamer @levisfavoriteteashop @preciousamethyst @iwanttohitmyself @shoyosdoll @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @sonarspace @averysmolbear @starstoru @starlightanyaaa @dolphin1135 @ioveartfilm @filhadaanarquia @blackdxggr @jaegergirl @gunslxtz @he11okitty-mari @koikohib

❦ 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.

You hold mr crawling’s face in your hands, caressing his cheeks as you watched him chirp and purr as he melted into your touch as he puts his hand atop of yours, keeping you where he needed you most.

‘I will kill for you I hope you know that.’ You said all of a sudden and mr crawling stopped to look at you with an adorable frown on his lips.

‘Kill for me?’ Crawling asked in his unique way.

‘Yes. You keep safe.’ You replied in an attempt to communicate in the only way he could understand. ‘Must have you safe.’ You add and mr crawling smiled widely as he patted your hands in excitement while letting out a laugh.

‘You keep safe.’ Mr crawling then said as he moved to cuddle himself up to your chest, listening to your heartbeat. ‘Keep this safe.’ He adds as he nuzzles his head against your chest and you couldn’t help but bundle him in your arms and kiss his head multiple times, breathing in your own shampoo and conditioner lingering in his hair.

‘We keep safe.’ You muttered to him as you run your hand up and down his back, feeling him tighten his grip on your waist as he made himself comfortable atop of you for a man of his tall stature. ‘Keep safe.’ Mr crawling murmurs softly against you as a calm befell you both as you enjoyed each others company, safe under some layers of soft blankets and soft kisses planted on the others skin in praise and appreciation for one another; Such simple pleasures are the ones you treasure the most.

MARKS ! a. miya x fem!reader

"Atsumu Miya," You gasp out, looking at your neck in the mirror.

"Yes'm?" He replies lazily, laying in the bed scrolling through his Instagram feed, without a care in the world.

It takes a moment for you to get your words out because, what the actual hell...? There are multiple, dark, marks on your neck.

"Holy fuck, do you want people to think you're abusing me or something?" That catches his attention immediately, but once he sees what you're referring to, he lies back down with a smirk.

"M'sorry that I love my wife and I want everyone to know." Oh, they'll know alright, and then you'll be on the receiving end of the teasing.

"I know, but, this is just downright ridiculous. It looks like you tried to fucking eat me." Atsumu laughs at that, and decides to get out of the bed to come take a look for himself.

The warmth of his bare chest seers through the tank top you have on and you can feel his steady heart beat. He, not so subtly, inhales the scent of your conditioner in your hair. "Mm, yeah. I did a number on ya, huh?"

You meet his beautiful brown eyes through the mirror and he looks heaven sent. His hair is all over the place, he's got a few marks from you, on his neck and chest, and that stupid smile that you fell in love with. How could you possible stay mad at him?

"You sure as hell did, and I have work in a little." He hums in thought as he snakes his arms around you waist.

"Why don'tcha just cover it with some makeup?" Oh if you could you would... you don't even think the best concealer could hide these marks.

"If it was just a singular hickey I would, but I don't think this can be covered without being super noticeable." Atsumu tries and fails to stifle a chuckle.

"Looks like ya gotta stay home today, huh?"

"Not happening, I have a super important presentation today." The both of you examine your neck together trying to figure out the best way to tackle it.

"Turtleneck?" Atsumu suggests, rubbing his hands up and down your sides in a comforting way.

"That would work it if it wasn't so hot out."

"But yer gonna be inside, giving a presentation..." He reasons.

"Ugh, turtleneck it is, I guess." The blond presses a kiss to your cheek, and you swat his face away. You're not mad anymore, but it's still his fault you'll have to wear a turtleneck in 80 degree weather.

Gojo's wife is calm, collected and well all around mature, much like Nanami. So when someone was taken by surprise that your last name was Gojo and not Nanami, that was the first time Satoru Gojo felt true heart break, his throat closed up and he thought he was about to blast this person into the sun. Is this what seeing red is like?

Buut of course his very sweet and understanding wife, simply placed herself into his side, hand pressing against his chest running it up and down as you say gently.

'Nope, this tall handsome fella is my husband.'

With the proudest smile on your face Satoru couldn't stay upset for long especially when you looked up at him with those soft eyes, he hooks his arm around your waist before standing up straighter a smile spreading across his lips, a cheeky smile some would say, as he responded with.

'That's right.'

(divider made by @adornedwithlight )

Kisses.💓

Such overprotective boy.

Eddie Munson is the type of person that would make eye contact with you and nod his head along when you're speaking amongst a group of people and they've stopped listening to you.

Eddie Munson is the type to say, "Hey, you were saying?" when you're interrupted.

Eddie Munson is the type who would make you feel included and seen because he knows what it's like to be left out.

Eddie Munson is the type who would never let you walk behind or on the road when there's not enough space on the sidewalk for more than two people. He's linking hands with everyone and moving in a line! Or everyone's walking on the road, bitch!

“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.