How They'd React When You Wanted To Sleep On The Couch... Just Because.

𝔼𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕖 𝕄𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕠𝕟: 𝔽𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝔸𝕝𝕡𝕙𝕒𝕓𝕖𝕥

day 04: Eddie

featuring Eddie Munson x reader (no assumed gender)

rating: general

cw: two minor, non-graphic mentions of sex; one brief mention of recreational marijuana use

wc: 1.6k

an: this is my first time doing one of these, and I was reminded of filling out those massively long surveys your friends would all email around in the 90s. I miss those. this was written for @corrodedcoffinfest!

𝔸𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕤 :: How does Eddie spend free time with his partner?

⟢ Eddie is the king of parallel play. Just being in the same room is enough to please him, even if you’re both absorbed in different activities. You’re lounging on the couch with a book while Eddie is noodling around with his guitar, or he’s at the table working on his campaign notes while you’re writing up a grocery list.

𝔹𝕖𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕪 :: What does Eddie admire about his partner?

⟢ I won’t lie, one of his criteria in a partner is how well you fit into his rockstar aesthetic. If you look like you’re ready to pose beside him on the cover of Rolling Stone, that’s a huge boon.

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥 :: How does Eddie help his partner when they’re struggling?

⟢ Eddie’s love language is acts of service, so when you’re having a rough time, he’s insisting you take the night off and let him make dinner—and it’s probably just boxed macaroni and cheese and maybe a can of green beans if he thinks about it, but he makes it with so much love. Then afterward, if you’re amenable, he’d break out his private stash and pack a bowl for you.

𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖 :: What is Eddie’s first date with his partner like?

⟢ A disaster. He had big ideas of impressing you, but it was one of those nights where nothing went as he planned. He wanted to take you to an open mic night and wow you with his musical prowess, but the performance list was already full when you arrived. At a loss for a last-minute substitution, you wound up going to the Hawkins High carnival, where he was harassed by the popular crowd, he couldn’t manage to win a single game to get you a prize, and he nearly choked to death on his corn dog (then coughed so hard he almost puked). To top it all off, he was pulled over by a cop while driving you home, and the familiarity the cop had with Eddie clearly announced that he had regular run-ins with them. And to this day, Eddie has absolutely no idea why you invited him inside when he finally got you home, or asked to see him again tomorrow for a do-over.

𝔼𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕝 :: Is Eddie more dominant or submissive in his relationship?

⟢ Eddie is a very easy switch. He can and will take either role depending on his mood and yours, and can switch from one to the other with a moment’s notice.

𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 :: What is it like when Eddie and his partner argue?

⟢ Honestly, Eddie doesn’t argue with you very often. He struggles with feelings of inadequacy and fears the day you’ll wake up and realize he’s a worthless, white trash loser, and he’s afraid of driving you to that realization early. Much more common between you are the more playful, low stakes disagreements, like which dresser drawer to put socks and underwear in (the top one, obviously) or whether peanut butter belongs in the fridge or not (no). These ‘arguments’ are usually settled with a dice roll.

𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕖 :: Does Eddie acknowledge how much his partner does for him?

⟢ Oh god, yes. See above for those feelings of inadequacy, he is grateful as hell that you gave a freak a chance and somehow found him worthwhile, at least for now.

ℍ𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕪 :: Does Eddie keep secrets from his partner or does he share everything?

⟢ Eddie couldn’t keep anything from you to save his life. He tells you everything, and everyone knows that if they tell Eddie something, they’re really telling the both of you because he’ll tell you immediately.

𝕀𝕟𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 :: Has Eddie’s partner inspired him to grow or change in any way?

⟢ Your presence in his life has made him more focused and given him more drive. His rockstar dreams were just a farfetched fantasy that he toyed with before, daydreams of a better life, but now with you in the picture, he craves that success to be more than make-believe.

𝕁𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕪 :: How does Eddie handle jealousy in his relationship?

⟢ Eddie doesn’t fall victim to jealousy all that often. Those occasions when he does feel it flare up, though, it’s because he saw someone else flirting with you, and his response is to go over there and slip an arm around you, maybe give you a slightly-too-deep kiss, and remind the other person that you’re already spoken for.

𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤 :: Is Eddie a good kisser?

⟢ He’s not too bad! He doesn’t have a whole lot of experience when you first get together—there haven’t been many people in Hawkins willing to take a chance on a Munson—but he does have some natural talent, and he’s a quick learner with practice.

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 :: How does Eddie confess his love to his partner?

⟢ In song. He stresses out for a while over how to get to the next level with you, and he finally decides that since music is his forte, he’ll write you a song and perform it for you.

𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕘𝕖 :: Would Eddie want to marry his partner?

⟢ Eddie would be one of those guys who proposes to his partner and then stalls in the engaged phase for years, putting off the actual marriage. It’s not that he doesn’t want to marry you (he does!), but he’s worried (perhaps subconsciously) about tying himself to you and becoming a weight that holds you back, ruining your life by making you a Munson.

ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕤 :: What does Eddie call his partner?

⟢ Princess, sweetheart, baby, babe. If he’s in a goofy mood, he’ll call you ‘my liege’ (often with a deep bow and a thick accent).

𝕆𝕟 ℂ𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕕 ℕ𝕚𝕟𝕖 :: What is Eddie like when he’s in love?

⟢ Oh god, I hate to say this, but I think he’s that guy who kind of slowly starts drifting away from his friends in favor of spending time with his partner instead, at least for a while, and it causes tension between you and them. When he starts cancelling Hellfire at the last minute and not showing up to band rehearsal, the others start getting angry with him.

ℙ𝔻𝔸 :: Does Eddie openly share affection with his partner, or is he more private?

⟢ This man would fuck you in the hallway at school if you asked him to. Once you’ve made it clear that you aren’t afraid of everyone knowing you’re with him, he can be downright obnoxious with his affection. You’re the couple making out in the hall during class change, causing a traffic jam. You’re the couple who gets caught in closets and bathrooms at every party. More than once, Wayne has had to clear his throat rather loudly to remind Eddie that he’s still in the room.

ℚ𝕦𝕚𝕣𝕜 :: What’s a random action Eddie performs for his partner?

⟢ He learns your routine and makes a point to ask if you want a ride to work today before you even say anything, or he’s already waiting for you outside your classes so he can walk with you to your next one.

ℝ𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 :: How romantic is Eddie?

⟢ Very romantic. He’s making you new mix tapes weekly. Whenever he stops for gas, he always comes back to the van with your favorite snack without being asked. (He may have taken the five-finger discount, but it’s the thought that counts!) He holds doors open for you with a sweeping bow. He makes a big production of giving you a pin off his battle vest or one of his rings.

𝕊𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 :: How does Eddie help his partner achieve their goals?

⟢ You have never heard a pep talk until Eddie gives you one. He is a stalwart and unwavering pillar of support, and no one believes in you as much as Eddie believes in you.

𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕝𝕝 :: Does Eddie like to experiment and try new things, or does he prefer familiarity?

⟢ Eddie is always down to try something new, especially if it’s something you’re interested in. Whether it’s a new movie in a genre he doesn’t gravitate toward, or heading into the city to try a new restaurant cuisine that’s caught your attention, or a new bedroom activity, Eddie’s down for it.

𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: How well does Eddie know his partner?

⟢ Pretty damn well. Sometimes you might think he’s not listening while you’re talking, but even when he looks distracted, he never misses a word. He knows your favorite color, the foods you hate, your class or work schedule, the kind of future you daydream about. If you have a menstrual cycle, he doesn’t have it memorized but he can always tell immediately when your uterus is making problems.

𝕍𝕒𝕝𝕦𝕖 :: How important is Eddie’s relationship to him?

⟢ It’s literally the single most important thing in Eddie’s life. It’s the greatest thing he’s ever had, and he knows he doesn’t deserve anything this good. He loves you more than his guitar, which speaks volumes on its own.

𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕕 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕕 :: A random fluffy headcanon.

⟢ The first year you were together, Eddie very nearly forgot your birthday. It wasn’t until a quarter to midnight that he remembered, and he tore out of the trailer like a man on fire to get over to your place before midnight, nothing but apologies and affection and promises to make it up to you this weekend. Since then, he goes out of his way to make a big deal of your birthday every year.

𝕏𝕆𝕏𝕆 :: Does Eddie like to be affectionate with his partner?

⟢ Oh yes. Given a choice, Eddie would be attached to your hip 24/7. He loves to hold your hand, put an arm around you, give you little kisses, cuddle up to you. If acts of service is his primary love language, physical touch is a close second.

𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: How does Eddie cope when he’s missing his partner?

⟢ If at all possible, the quickest cure is to just go see you. Eddie’s liable to show up at your place at any hour of the day or night, looking a little lost and forlorn, just wanting to see you. If you’re unreachable like that, oh, how this boy pines for you. He’s a mopey, moody, melancholy mess. Wayne has to tell him to go outside and get some sunlight before he makes the mold in the trailer flourish with that storm cloud over his head.

ℤ𝕖𝕒𝕝 :: To what lengths would Eddie go for his relationship?

⟢ Eddie would brave the Upside Down alone to preserve your relationship. He would bitch and moan the entire way, but he would do it if it meant keeping you.

Baby bee!! Sorry, I don’t post art much these days, but I hope y’all like this lil cutie <3

Random eddie core/inspo

Found on pinterest, bottom pics are of fëdor and i think king princess?

A softer moment for my favorite crusty neighbor (and an excuse to draw jellies!)

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.

you cheer and clap from the stands as atsumu miya secures the last point of the game, finishing the set and winning the match for his team. the crowd roars, his school’s chant echoing throughout the venue. atsumu’s teammates pool around him as they celebrate their win, the boys forming a circle within themselves.

but his mind is occupied with the pretty girl he sees in the corner of his eye— you. he pulls away, muttering a quick “give me a second” to no one in particular.

he walks to you, head held high and he can’t help but puff his chest and shoulders a little bit. just a little.

“what’s a girl like you doin’ all alone?” he asks, and some of his teammates a few feet away yell. honestly, you’re not even sure if they’re cheering him on or booing him, but you do hear a whistle from behind.

light breaths of air escape your lips as you giggle, “i’m here for my boyfriend.”

and he scoffs, the smug bastard. “i don’t see him anywhere. looks like you’re all mine for tonight.” calloused hands reach over to you, his arms flexing subtly at the tenseness built up over the game.

“hmm, i don’t know…” you look down, swaying ever so slightly as you put up a bashful pretense.

the blonde laughs, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he traps you in an embrace. “you ‘nd your games,” he says, kissing your forehead.

you squeal and pull away to no avail, his large arms wrapping around you like a blanket. “you started it! ‘tsumu, you’re all sweaty!” you drag out the last syllable, half teasing. it was true, his jersey was halfway wet like he’d been caught in the rain.

“shhh, stop resisting. your boyfriend might see.” atsumu teases, all while continuing to pepper you with kisses. the noise from the crowd and his teammates are blocked out, atsumu’s world limiting itself to you and him only.

a pretty girl and a championship. looks like atsumu’s going home with two victories tonight.

bokuto post-match &&& ushijima post-match

Random dumps

I just need to pump out all of my Mr Crawling brainrot, thanks

Anyways implied r18 at the next drawing!!! Just implied but still, beware.

THINGS THEY DO THAT MAKE YOU SECOUND-GUESS YOUR 'FRIENDSHIP'

→ pairings: gojo satoru, geto suguru, kento nanami, ryomen sukuna, toji fushiguro.

→ a/n: finally had the time to write something!! school has been keeping me busy!! implied female reader for toji’s part.

GOJO - being touchy.

you’re used to gojo’s touch.

the way he drapes himself over your shoulders like a human scarf, pulling you into his side without a second thought. the way his hand finds the small of your back when he guides you through a crowd, his palm pressing firm against you, like he’s staking a silent claim. you’ve grown accustomed to the way he plays with your fingers absentmindedly—twisting your rings, tracing circles over your knuckles—while he rambles about something completely unrelated.

it’s always been like this.

that’s what you tell yourself, at least. that it doesn’t mean anything. that he’s like this with everyone.

but lately, it’s been getting harder to believe that.

because his touches have started to linger. his fingers don’t just graze your wrist anymore—they rest there, warm and grounding, his thumb brushing slow, deliberate strokes against your pulse. when he reaches for something above your head, he doesn’t just stretch over you; he presses his chest against your back, close enough that you feel the heat of him seep into your skin.

and then there’s the way he looks at you.

like right now.

you’re both sprawled out on his couch, half-watching some random movie he insisted was a classic (it’s not), when you feel it—his fingers, absentmindedly tracing shapes on your wrist.

you try not to react, try to focus on the screen, but your breath catches anyway. if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. he just keeps going, slow and lazy, the pads of his fingers skating along your skin like he’s mapping out something only he can see.

your pulse jumps when his fingers move up—tracing the inside of your forearm now, featherlight. it’s not accidental. you know it. he knows it.

but he doesn’t stop.

you sneak a glance at him, expecting that usual smug grin, but he’s still staring at the screen. too casual. too relaxed. he’s testing you.

like he’s waiting for you to do something about it.

you should move your arm. you should pull away. you should call him out.

but you don’t.

because the way he’s touching you now—it’s not friendly. it’s not casual. it’s not something he does with anyone else.

and the worst part?

he knows you know it.

GETO - never correcting people when they assume you’re his partner.

you don’t think anything of it at first.

you and geto move through the grocery store like you always do—bickering over which brand of cereal is better, tossing random snacks into the cart, laughing when he makes fun of your terrible attempts at balancing fruit on top of an already overflowing pile of groceries.

it’s easy. it’s comfortable. it’s just you and him.

and then you get to checkout.

the cashier, an older woman with kind eyes, watches as geto effortlessly lifts the heavy bags before you can even reach for them. he does it without thinking, just like how he had taken the cart from you earlier, just like how he always opens doors for you, just like how his hand had rested on the small of your back when guiding you through the aisles.

she smiles warmly.

“you two make such a lovely couple.”

you freeze.

your brain short-circuits for a split second, mouth already opening to correct her, but then—then you hear nothing from geto.

not a single word of clarification. not even a chuckle or a shake of his head.

nothing.

instead, he just hums, tilting his head slightly as if considering the statement. he doesn’t deny it. doesn’t laugh it off. just lets the words sit there, completely unbothered.

your head snaps toward him, eyes wide.

he meets your gaze, entirely too calm, a slow smirk forming at the corner of his lips. and then—because he’s absolutely insufferable—he leans in slightly, voice smooth as silk.

“you hear that?” he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. “we’re a lovely couple.”

you want to strangle him.

your reaction must be obvious because the cashier just beams, clearly convinced she was right. “oh, young love is so sweet. you take good care of them, dear.”

geto chuckles, and before you can protest, he effortlessly places a hand on the back of your head, ruffling your hair like you’re some flustered little thing.

“always,” he says smoothly.

you don’t remember the rest of the transaction. you’re too busy contemplating whether it’s legal to strangle someone with a grocery bag.

as you’re walking out, geto leans in again, voice dripping with amusement.

“you could’ve corrected them,” he muses, lips dangerously close to your ear. “but you didn’t.”

your stomach flips. you hate that he’s right.

NANAMI - always taking care of you.

you don’t plan on staying this late.

but time slips away between deadlines and last-minute emails, and before you know it, the office is nearly empty, the sky outside painted in deep shades of navy. you sigh, rubbing your temples, already dreading the long commute home.

by the time you step out onto the quiet street, the city lights glowing around you, your phone buzzes.

you don’t have to check to know who it is.

nanami: where are you?

your stomach flips.

you: just leaving work. why?

the message is barely delivered before another one comes in.

nanami: stay there. i’ll be there in five.

you frown at your screen. he was nearby?

true to his word, exactly five minutes later, a familiar figure approaches.

nanami, dressed in his usual crisp attire, looking entirely too put together for this hour. he doesn’t say anything at first, just glances at you, scanning you over like he’s checking for any signs of exhaustion.

“you should have left earlier,” he says, voice even, but you catch the slight furrow of his brow.

you roll your eyes. “yeah, well, i got caught up.”

“hm.” he exhales, the sound bordering on exasperation, before tilting his head toward the direction of your apartment. “let’s go.”

you blink. “what?”

“i’ll walk you home.”

you huff a laugh. “nanami, it’s fine. i can handle walking alone.”

he gives you a flat look, as if the idea is so ridiculous it doesn’t even warrant a response. Instead of arguing, he simply starts walking, fully expecting you to follow.

and—of course—you do.

it’s not the first time he’s done this. You know it won’t be the last.

he doesn’t hover, doesn’t lecture you about staying late. but his presence is solid beside you, steady and unwavering. his hands stay in his pockets, but you know—if anything were to happen, if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way—he’d be on them in a second.

as you near your building, you sneak a glance at him. “you didn’t have to do this, you know.”

nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like you’re the one giving him a headache. “i know.”

“…then why do you?”

he stops walking. turns to face you, studying you for a long moment.

then, with a sigh—like he’s so tired of explaining the obvious—he simply mutters:

“because you don’t take care of yourself.”

and that’s that. no room for debate. no further explanation.

your heart stumbles in your chest.

because he doesn’t say i worry about you. he doesn’t say i do it because I care.

but he doesn’t have to.

the truth lingers in the quiet, in the way he watches you, in the way he makes sure you’re safe—every single time.

and when you step inside your building, looking back one last time, you catch him still standing there. waiting.

making sure you’re okay.

like he always does.

SUKUNA - being unreasonably jealous.

it starts off as nothing.

a passing comment here, an unimpressed scoff there. sukuna has always been blunt, always had a sharp tongue and an even sharper glare. but lately, you start to notice a pattern—one that becomes impossible to ignore.

it happens again tonight.

you’re out with friends, the atmosphere light and easy, laughter filling the air. you’re mid-conversation with some guy—a friend of a friend, nothing special—when you feel it.

that presence.

it’s not loud or obvious, but it’s there. a weight lingering at your back, pressing into your skin before you even turn around.

and when you do—

sukuna is already watching.

seated across the table, one arm draped over the back of his chair, his gaze locked onto you with an expression that makes your stomach flip. bored. blank. irritated.

you try to ignore it. you keep talking, keep laughing at whatever the guy is saying, but it doesn’t matter. because every time you sneak a glance in sukuna’s direction, his eyes are still on you.

unwavering. unrelenting.

you swallow, trying to shake the weird tension creeping up your spine. but then the guy leans in slightly—just slightly—and that’s all it takes.

there’s a sharp scrape of a chair against the floor.

and then sukuna is there, standing beside you, a hand dropping heavily onto your shoulder.

“alright,” he drawls, voice slow, lazy, but carrying something unmistakably sharp. “this conversation looks thrilling.”

the guy stiffens. you do, too.

you glance up at sukuna, narrowing your eyes. “what are you doing?”

“listening.” his fingers tap idly against your shoulder, his weight sinking into the space beside you like he belongs there. “should i join? or is this, what—special?”

your brows furrow. “are you serious?”

he tilts his head slightly, feigning confusion, but you know that look. the glint in his eyes, the smirk barely tugging at his lips—he’s enjoying this.

the guy across from you clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “uh—i was just—”

“no, no,” sukuna interrupts smoothly, finally dragging his gaze away from you to look at him. “you were just what?”

the guy hesitates, then shakes his head. “never mind.”

and just like that, he stands, mumbling something about needing another drink before walking away.

you whip around to face sukuna fully, shoving his arm off your shoulder. “what the hell is wrong with you?”

he doesn’t move, doesn’t even pretend to be remorseful. if anything, he looks amused. “relax,” he hums. “didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

you scoff. “oh? and how exactly was he looking at me?”

sukuna shrugs, completely nonchalant. “like he could have you.” his head tilts, eyes flickering over your face. “and he can’t.”

your heart stumbles.

you open your mouth, then close it. because what do you even say to that? what does he even mean by that?

he smirks at your silence, reaching out to flick your forehead lightly before leaning in—just close enough that your breath catches.

“relax, brat,” he murmurs, voice deep, low, too much. “i’m just looking out for you.”

you should shove him away. roll your eyes. call him out for acting like an overprotective asshole.

but instead, you just sit there, pulse unsteady, second-guessing everything you thought you knew about this friendship.

because you know sukuna. and you know damn well—

this wasn’t just him looking out for you.

TOJI - flirting with you consistently.

it starts small. barely noticeable at first.

a lazy smirk here, a lingering touch there.

you don’t even think much of it in the beginning. it’s just toji being toji, right? he flirts with everyone—cashiers, waitresses, random people in passing. it’s just how he is.

except… it’s different with you.

because when he leans in close, voice dropping lower just for you to hear— “that color looks real good on ya, sweetheart. what, tryna drive me crazy?”—his eyes don’t leave your face. because when his fingers skim the small of your back, guiding you through a crowd, they stay there a second too long to be casual. because when he throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth, he’s comfortable like he belongs there—like he’s claiming that space.

and then there are the compliments.

not just the casual you look nice or that suits you. no, never that simple.

“bet guys lose their damn minds over you.” he says it so offhandedly, like it’s just a fact—just something everyone knows.

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “yeah, sure.”

“i mean it,” he murmurs, and you hate the way your stomach flips when his gaze settles on you, something dark and unreadable in his eyes. “if i were them, i wouldn’t let you outta my sight.”

you tell yourself you’re imagining it—that he’s just messing with you. that’s what he does.

but then it keeps happening.

every single time, without fail.

you’re just trying to grab something from a high shelf? suddenly, he’s behind you, reaching over your head, his chest nearly brushing against your back. he doesn’t have to get that close. he knows it. you know it. but he does it anyway, voice low in your ear as he hands you whatever you needed.

“next time, just ask me, yeah? don’t gotta strain that pretty little neck of yours.”

you push him away, muttering something under your breath, and he just laughs, all smug amusement.

he’s always touching you, like he can’t help himself. a hand grazing the back of your neck when he adjusts your hoodie. his palm resting against your thigh when he leans in to say something. he doesn’t cling to you, doesn’t make a big show of it—but it’s there. subtle. constant. a quiet, unspoken thing.

and then—then, there are the moments that really get to you.

like when you’re out with friends, sitting side by side, and his fingers find the hem of your sleeve. absentmindedly playing with the fabric, rolling it between his fingertips. he doesn’t even seem to notice he’s doing it, just listening to the conversation, relaxed and completely at ease. like touching you is second nature to him.

or when you’re waiting in line for something, standing close, and he leans in just slightly, dropping his voice low.

“keep looking at me like that, sweetheart,” he murmurs, eyes flicking to your lips for half a second. “gonna start thinkin’ you want somethin’ from me.”

your breath catches.

and the worst part? the absolute worst part?

he sees it. every damn time.

sees the way your pulse flutters at your throat. sees the way your fingers twitch, like you don’t know what to do with them. sees the way you avoid his gaze, pretending like your entire body isn’t reacting to him.

and every time, without fail—he just smirks.

like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. like he’s enjoying it. like he’s waiting—patient, unhurried—for you to break first.

and the thing is…

you think he knows you will.

eventually.

prev⟺next

Being Sukuna’s girlfriend is not always easy. He’s the type to show his love rarely, but when he does, it’s aggressive, to say the least.

You’ll often wake up with his large hand wrapped around your neck, his warm fingers just long enough to reach around your entire throat. At first, it was startling—a demon man you just started dating who shows basically no affection is choking you in your sleep? Was he trying to kill you and just got tired half way through??

All of your questions cease although, the moment you find out why he does this. You decided to pretend to be asleep one night as you were lying in his royal chambers, covered in love bites from moments before when he decided to suckle and nip at your skin—another strange way he shows his love for you. Your eyes flutter shut as soon as you hear him walk out of the bathroom, knowing he’s just finished brushing his teeth and is now ready for bed.

The mattress dips when he lies down next to you, inches away at first, but when you feel his large frame hover over your face to make sure you’re asleep, he moves right up against your back. You’re surprised to feel one of his muscular arms wrap tightly around your waist, the other reaching under your head so that you’re essentially using him as a pillow. His chest rumbles lowly when his hand moves below your chin, fingers carefully wrapping around your throat as usual.

You’re waiting for a squeeze, the tip of one of his nails jutting into your skin, or even a few harsh words in your ear. But all you feel next is his fingers tightening slowly, the tip of his index hovering just above your pulse point, before pressing into your soft, pliant skin. You feel your heart race against the pad of his finger, then another rumble from his chest against your back.

“Mine,” he whispers gently, before running his thumb over the soft edge of your jawline. He then presses one last kiss to the top of your head before lying his head down and closing his eyes.

Let’s just say, you never question his weird, sometimes animalistic, possession over you; because in reality, he’s just a big guy who doesn’t know how to express his unyielding love for you.

It’s givinggggggg tiger!sukuna. Should I…explore the waters of that concept more? I probably will despite the reaction to this💪🏻🫡

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.”