A Softer Moment For My Favorite Crusty Neighbor (and An Excuse To Draw Jellies!)

clingy bf!sukuna...who swears that he is anything but clingy until he meets you.

clingy to the point where he follows you to the bathroom, keeping you company whilst you take a bath or a shower.

'Sukuna get out.'

'No I gotta piss.'

'You said that fifteen minutes ago and you're still here.'

'Gotta make sure you don't drown or something, you would do some stupid shit like that.'

'Gee thanks.'

also bf!sukuna being clingy to the point where he hangs around the kitchen whilst you cook or clean, following you around just to piss you off.

sukuna being clingy to the point where if you even move an inch off the couch whilst watching a movie, he immediately pauses the screen and asks you where you're going

'to get the popcorn obviously'

'oh.'

but the most clingy version of sukuna is when you wake up early in the morning and attempt to get ready for work.

keyword: attempt

it's like fighting a whole big cat similar to ones that you see in the zoo, sukuna's warm body trapping you in place underneath the sheets.

'i'm not doing this again with you sukuna...'

'mhmmmm.'

'i'm serious' you pinch his tattooed skin yet there's no reaction.

'm' serious too babe.' he groans. His eyes are closed with his pink locks messily arranged. His two hands wrap around your waist with nothing but security. 'you're not leaving.'

'I have a job, a commitment.'

'Is our marriage not a commitment?'

'we're not married 'kuna.'

There's a pause and for a second you think that Sukuna has fallen back to sleep.

'yet.'

'what did you just say?!'

i wish i had met you earlier (eddie munson x reader)

cw: depressing pillow talk and comfort idk, reader was sad and lonely an: a nod to the only boy ive ever loved who coincidentally became the only man ive ever loved. we grew up together and i still wish i had met him earlier. wc: 1k

“I wish I had met you earlier,” you whisper.

“Earlier?” he smiles, nose scrunching at the silliness, not knowing the depth of your sentiment. 

“Yeah,” you smile back. It’s hard not to do— to smile, when his eyes are so soft, and his lips are that plump, just kissed colour, and your body still hums from the evening behind you. His lashes flutter the slightest bit, blinking away your flattery with a bashful roll of his eyes. 

“You’d be sick of me already if we met earlier,” he lightly huffs, cheek squishing further into the softness of your shared pillow, crooking his smile. 

If the lights were on, you’re sure you’d see a flush suffuse across his face. It would highlight the curvature of his cheeks that accompany his boyish simper, and it would emphasize the winsome rounded tip of his nose. When he blushes like that, your heart always adds an extra beat into its rhythm, one that lives for him. You can picture it so clearly, your heart flutters all the same— that’s not the point of this though. 

“I wouldn't be sick of you,” you promise.

“No?”

“I'll never get sick of you.” 

Tactile as always, he draws his affection over your features, trusting his touch to communicate what he feels. His fingertips dance over your cheek bone, daring to grace close enough to your eye to feel the very tips of each silken lash, flittering with every reflexive blink. He feels the fan, every feathery gust of air, and it affects him in magnitudinous ways— feeling any part of you is like that, a full-hearted reminder that you are here. You are here and you are his. 

His palm settles to your cheek, fingers curving just below your ear, cradling the edge of your face. His own version of a promise, he shares his warmth and oath-taken heart through his touch.

“When would you have wanted to meet?” he asks curiously, blinking his own thick lashes at you as his gaze meets yours. 

“Just before high school.”

He smiles widely, “you answered that quickly,” he says, thumb tracing once over the hill of your cheek and back down.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” you smile back. You lean into his touch and he draws his thumb across again. You close your eyes for a moment and he does it another time. 

“Why?” 

The softness inside you hardens momentarily at the question. Swallowing thickly, you also know the answer, but it doesn’t come out as quickly. It gets stuck to the roof of your mouth, stuck to the tip of your tongue. His eyes encourage your honesty, and on the sole notion of knowing him and knowing his heart, you trust him with this part of you.

“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so lonely.”

His thumb glides across your cheek and you watch as his eyes give way to his realization that it wasn’t a light hearted question for you. It wasn’t just pillow talk like it was supposed to be.

“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so sad,” you continue, trying to smile.

“You were sad?” His brows turn up, worry lines settling in. It’s a sorrowful look he gives you, not pity, but a softness, a grief, a regret. 

For a split moment, you think that maybe you should lie— make it all go away. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t, not with him. Not when his hand is so graciously connected to you, and the warmth of his bare chest radiates into yours, and your shared pillow smells like your shared shampoo, and the sheets smell like the laundry soap you picked out together, with hints of your lotion and his body wash scattered throughout like every kiss you’ve ever shared here. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t— especially not when you love him and he loves you. 

“I was so sad, Eddie.” 

You muster a smile, but it betrays you, trembling just under your lower lip. The corners of your mouth remain pointed high, but it’s not a smile, not with the way your lips purse tightly, holding back what your eyes cannot. Your lash line fills, but less than a few side fallen tears survive the heavy blinks that draw them back inwards.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, thumb tracing under your eye this time. He pulls you forward with the lightest touch, a gentle encouragement, and a purposeful reminder that he’s here. He's here and he’s yours. 

One day you’d like to explain it all, but it’s a hard feeling to understand. You’re not sure if it’s wholly a feeling to begin with— it’s more like a ghost. A haunting of all the feelings that used to exist. It washes over you in fast moving gray clouds, settling into your chest like heavy smoke in your lungs, lingering only long enough to remind you of how it was. Just enough to make you sputter, but not enough to hold the bleak weight of it all once again.

Breath coming out heaving and choked, Eddie’s palm glides to the back of your neck. His thumb presses soothingly into the tensed and taut muscles, and as soft as air he breathes a whispered apology against your lips— a simple ‘sorry,’ but it translates to so much more when he holds you like he does. 

Sorry for bringing it up. 

Sorry for the ghosts in your lungs. 

Sorry for the years of you that died all alone with nobody to mourn them. 

Sorry that no matter how many flowers you bring to their grave, they still come back, just like this, to haunt you.

Sorry— breathed against your lips and into your lungs, filling you with the gift of a life with him in it. 

“It’s not your fault,” you answer.

“I know,” he replies.

“I’m still glad I met you when I did,” you say. 

He looks into your eyes, steady gaze sincere with a tender adornment. Entirely loving, but his usually gladness is hindered by the gravity of the moment. He moves in closer to you again, lips just barely brushing yours as he speaks. 

“I wish I had met you earlier,” he whispers.

———

ty! <3

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.”

Wrong team – Kageyama x reader wc 986 – f!reader, brother!Atsumu, brother!Osamu

Being a student could be difficult, but being a student in Osaka and Osamu Miya’s little sister had its perks. Osamu hired you quite quickly after you graduated from high school, letting you work part-time at the restaurant, which also meant you were his favourite employee to bring for job excursions.

Like this huge one, where your other brother and his team were playing against the Schweiden Adlers.

You practically bounced as you walked past the banners when entering the arena a couple of hours before the game was set to start. Chatting away with Osamu on how you thought the teams would play, the two of you enjoyed setting up the stall and preparing everything to hopefully sell a bunch of delicious onigiri.

“Okay, ya did good. Ya get…” Osamu checked his wrist watch, humming under his breath before smiling up at you again. “Fifteen minutes to roam around, then I need ya back here.”

“Thanks!” you squealed and high-fived him quickly before running off, still wearing your complete uniform. Osamu had told you it was better to keep it on so that no one thought you had snuck in, so you even had the cap and name tag on.

You first ventured around the halls for a bit, nervous to approach the actual court where you could hear them warming up. However, the nervousness eventually couldn’t stop you from peeking inside.

There they are, the gorgeous Schwe- oops, surely you mean the Black Jackals?

Smiling sheepishly to yourself, you slowly crept inside the main arena to observe. Just as you found Atsumu, he seemed to catch a break and ran off towards Osamu’s stand, probably to check if everything was okay. You frowned, wondering if you should turn back so you could wish him good luck before-

“Hi.”

It felt like your heart jumped right out of your chest at the unexpected company, eyes snapping to the Kageyama Tobio standing there with a volleyball tucked between his elbow and waist. In an attempt to hide that you had to catch your breath, you cleared your throat and adjusted your hat. “Hey! Ready for the game?”

That was smooth enough. Good job.

“Getting there, it’s our turn for warm-ups on the court in about a minute,” he told you casually. Clearly, he wasn’t aware of your clammy hands and burning ears.

“I’ll be cheering for ya! From the food stands,” you told him with an awkward chuckle.

Kageyama walked closer to you, leaning in to look at your name tag and the logo on your shirt. His eyes seemed to brighten, and you felt entranced with their oceans. “Thank you. I might have to come get some onigiri if you have any left after the game… and the signing… and the press meeting.”

You chuckled more genuinely this time, charmed by how he got more and more dejected at the realisation that he might not have the time to get onigiri today. “If yer ever back in town, ya could always swing by. We’d be happy to serve ya, maybe even add yer photo to the wall of fame.”

“Speaking of, shouldn’t you be cheering for the other team? With that last name on your shirt.” Your heart once again tried to kill you as it did a double take with Kageyama’s surprisingly cheeky comment.

“I’ll have ya know it’s not just on ma’ shirt-”

“Y/N?!”

You sighed, a headache already forming at Atsumu’s heavy footsteps. “I just came to tell ya good luck, Tsum.”

Atsumu glanced at Kageyama, who seemed to take the hint and gave you a little bow before gathering with his team to start warming up their attacks. You waved him goodbye before getting pulled back by Atsumu, all the way back to Osamu’s stall.

“It’s yer responsibility when we’re here that no Adlers get close to her,” Atsumu instructed to deaf ears. Osamu was too busy readying the register and simply waved him off. “She’s our baby sister- ow!”

After you threw a solid punch at his arm, he finally let go of you so you could return to your spot behind the stall. “Cringe,” Osamu commented, making you nod in agreement.

“I’m barely two years younger than ya.”

After Atsumu made his way back to his team, you barely had a spare minute to think much about your interaction with Kageyama. A lot of people came to watch, including several old friends of yours from Inarizaki, so you sold a lot of food before the game started and held a conversation or two to catch up where you could.

About ten minutes into the game, the line finally dispersed as everyone got back to their seats to watch the best game of the season. “Tsumu’s up to serve,” you mumbled as if Osamu wasn’t watching the same thing.

The serve was great, but Hoshiumi was on it, getting the ball up for Kageyama in a tough spot. You clutched your hands together as you watched in anticipation, ultimately cheering when the set led to Schweiden Adlers’ point. Osamu placed a hand on your head, pushing your cap down over your face. “Wrong team, idiot.”

Osamu hadn’t actually taken any of Atsumu’s allegations seriously, but maybe he should have. That’s what he thought when he watched Kageyama walk inside his restaurant one evening, hands tucked deep in his pockets and looking around like he wasn’t there for him.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya. How can I help ya?”

“I was hoping-” Kageyama’s eyes trailed from the kitchen behind Osamu and back to him, a small pout on his lips. “I’ll just have today’s special.”

“So yer the Adler my brother warned me about, tsk tsk.” Osamu shook his head and sighed as if this took years off his life. “I’ll get her.”

Atsumu will be livid when he hears about this, Osamu thought, and that was always his greatest motivation.

masterlist

requested by @livelaughlovetoru for my event, anything for you <3 I changed your idea a little to my preference, but I hope it’s still enjoyable!

I just really need best friend!Eddie to have that rom-com moment of clarity where he realizes he’s in love with me, runs to my house in the pouring rain, and kisses me so deeply that I my soul leaves my body.

Thinking of how clingy Tsukishima Kei can get when he goes to you after his training…

He has to have his hands all over you in an innocent way, he just wants to be pampered after his exhausting volleyball training. He won’t actually say he wants to be pampered, but its his body language. He’s around you more than usual, absentmindedly tracing lazy circles on your hip, he holds your hand, and he’s more vulnerable.

“Is this too much?” He murmurs quietly as he hugs you, he feels like he’s gonna melt under your warm embrace. “Mm-mm, its okay.” You pause, rubbing his back, “Do you wanna talk about how your day went?”, “Maybe later.. I think I’ll just stay like this for a while.” He tightens his hold on you just right, just because the guy’s desperate for affection, doesn’t mean he won’t be considerate. He doesn’t wanna crush you, after all.

He can get used to this, and you can too.

eddie is the type of guy who takes any opportunity to kiss you. you’re helping him clean up after hellfire and as he passes by he leans down and places a kiss at the base of your neck before he resumes cleaning up. he peppers your face with soft morning kisses and slow reverent ones at night. forehead kisses after sex. he’s laying on your stomach while you read in bed and he’ll occasionally place a kiss onto your skin. kisses on your hand at a red light. he’ll make a show of grabbing your hand as you hop out of his van and kiss the back of your hand. when he walks by you at school he’ll quickly stoop down to kiss your cheek and keep walking as you turn and watch him walk away. kisses to your ankle as he takes off your shoes after you’ve had a long day. him wrapping his arms around you from behind when you least expect it and kissing the edge of your shoulder. kisses to your temple as you both sit together watching tv. him leaning over you from behind while your sitting to place a kiss on your forehead, his hair falling down temporarily blocking your view. whenever you’re hugging, he loves to kiss the top of your head. when you’re holding hands he likes to bring the back of your hand to his lips. whenever you’re caressing his face he tilts his head to kiss the inside of your wrist and the inside of your palm. when you’re sleeping he places a quick kiss on your hipbone as he climbs into bed with you. he’d definitely do the hand to shoulder kisses like gomez addams.

Omg Mae Bae:

you said you wrote for Eddie Munson so totally ignore if not allowed! But I was thinking about Eddie not telling anyone you and him are dating and you stop by the Hellfire Club meeting on valentines Day and everyone is so stunned (maybe like a sunshine reader and Eddie!!)

Just picturing how stunned they'd all be hehe 💗😂

hi love! hope this is good ♡ wc: 470 | nav post - request guidelines

The familiar sound of laughter greeted you as you made your way down the now empty (and suddenly creepier) Hawkins High hallways, down to the theatre club room. The familiar smell of cheap beer and party chips lingered as you stood in front of the door. The "no disturbances, please" sign hung on the oak door didn't apply to you, of course, being the leader's partner, lover, whatever title you were to him.

You knocked three times on the door, something that was a code between you and Eddie. You could hear the muffled voices asking who it was as heavy footsteps seemed to come closer toward the door, you took a step back with a tupperware container in front of you, looking up and down the hallway.

The door barely cracked open, as Eddie grinned once he saw you. "What's the secret password?" He teasingly asks as you pretend think for a second. "You love me and will open the door?" You offer as he shrugs. "Close enough, it was sunshine. What're you doing here?" He questions as he opens the door, leaving it open as he wrapped his arms around your waist, about to pull you close before he noticed the container in between your bodies.

"I know you said your meeting was gonna hold late and I am totally okay with that, but I figured you and your boys needed more of a snack then party chips and soda. So, I made you something. Consider it part one of your Valentine's surprise." You smile, holding the container out for him. He doesn't say anything as he stares at them, before he smiles and places a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a soft kiss.

The romantic moment is spoiled by Garth and Mike letting out their surprise with "oohs". "Munson's got a lover!?" Jeff asks as Garth rolls his eyes. "Clearly. How come we never knew about it?" He asks as Eddie sighs. "They can never keep anything to themselves-" He begins to pull you into the room before you can protest interrupting their game.

"This is my partner not lover you idiot, Y/n." Eddie introduces as you smile. "Hi." You wave a bit, as Mike stares at you. "Wait, you're like.. one of the nicest people I've ever met. You're with him?" The Wheeler boy whose sister you'd known for years asks as you laugh. "Come on, Mike, you make it sound like he's not a good person." You note.

"Yeah, Mike." Eddie sticks his tongue out as you laugh. "Well, I'd better get going. I'll see you tonight?" You ask. He nods, giving you another sweet kiss and flipping off the other party members before you sneak out the door.

The teasing doesn't stop after you leave, especially when they notice his blushing.

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! shine on, shine on!

- mae:)

"atsumu," you whisper hiss, crossing your arms and glaring at the back of his head from the bathroom door, "what the hell are you doing?"

he freezes, almost comically so and turns around. a bottle of bleach is raised in his right, ungloved nonetheless, hand and he gives you a sheepish grin.

"hey pretty, what are ya doing up so late?"

you squint hard, pursing your lips.

"what are you doing up so late?"

he pouts and sets the bleach down with a whine.

"my roots were showin'! i had to fix it."

"it is 3am, miya. it is 3am and you are clanging around in my bathroom, leaving me in bed all cold and alone."

as if to prove your point, you shiver slightly, flimsy pajama shorts and his shirt doing little to warm you.

"i hate when you call me that."

you sigh and yawn, he's giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes and as pissed as you are about being woken up, you cant help but soften a little bit.

"hand me the bleach you dummy, you missed a bunch of spots."

atsumu smiles widely and hands you the bottle, you snap on the disgarded pair of gloves on the counter and get to work.

"i love ya," he mumbles, kissing your forehead as he crouches down, letting you massage the bleach into his hair.

"love you too... even though you wake me up at ungodly hours of the morning for vanity reasons."

BatEddie!!