Suddenly I'm Not Afraid Of Ghosts Anymore!

the only exception ! | ft. hq boys

-> pairing: miya atsumu, suna rintarou, hinata shoyo x gn!reader | sfw | cw: quick blurbs! | mlist 

-> synopsis: you’re the only one who can get your boyfriend to do certain things. 

₊˚ෆ MIYA ATSUMU dislikes people cheering while he serves. His infamous topspins and floaters are renowned in the volleyball world– for good reason. To stake his control over the court, he refuses any distractions, and he silences the crowd with one flick of his wrist. He’s been known to give death glares to anybody, even his own fans, who disobey his command for quiet. 

So when you, his newly minted significant other, shatter the careful still Atsumu has crafted by bellowing out his name in an otherwise silent stadium, gasps ripple through the stands. 

Atsumu’s teammates freeze, interest piqued at how he’d react. Sure, you’re dating now, but Atsumu’s a very harsh guy. Nobody would put it past him to scold you on the spot. The ball bounces against the court once, twice, and then three times, like a ticking bomb. The crowd shifts uncomfortably, waiting for his anger to explode.

It never comes. 

Instead, he serves the ball as normal. It’s an ace. And when it’s over, he looks at you with a knowing grin of appreciation instead of his usual glare. 

Atsumu hates the shrill sound of cheers when he’s about to serve, but he’s come to find that if it’s yours– he doesn’t quite mind. 

₊˚ෆ SUNA RINTAROU is a generally expressionless guy. It’s gotten him into trouble more times than he can count.

When he sprained his ankle in middle school, he barely winced. When his little sister was born, he yawned. When he landed his first spike as a professional athlete, he hummed.

No matter the scenario, a disinterested look is permanently etched into his features. (The only exception is the upturn of his lips when he sees his friends doing something particularly idiotic.) 

It’s not that he doesn’t care– it’s just how he is. This is a truth that all those close to Rintarou have come to understand. 

This truth is why, when he introduces you to his loved ones for the first time, they’re stunned. They’re shocked when they see the bright red his face burns after you give him a kiss on the cheek. They’re floored by the smile that possesses his lips as he steals glances at you from across the room. They’re surprised by the look of absolute adoration in his eyes whenever you do really anything. 

Rintarou’s always been difficult to read, but for you, he’s feelings are entirely transparent.  

₊˚ෆ HINATA SHOYO always stays late to practice. Being the dedicated player that he is, he will train until his legs shake and his breath gives out. His teammates know never to approach him when he’s in his groove; otherwise, he’ll find a way to coax them into another round of drills. He’s an immovable force, immune to persuasion, and entirely impossible to convince to slow down.

“Leaving early” is not in his vocabulary. 

So when, one day, his teammates see him trek into the locker room before the sun has even set, they worry he’s gone ill. 

But when Shoyo reassures them, with a bright smile, that he’s just leaving early to meet with you, the new person he’s been seeing, for dinner– his teammates think he’s lost his mind. Their expressions of concern morph into ones of complete disbelief. 

What curse have you placed on the rigid player to compel him to act in such an uncharacteristic way? Have you threatened his family? Are you blackmailing him? 

The answer is none of the above. 

Shoyo doesn’t stay late to practice out of obligation. He does it because he adores what he does. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be than on the court.

But recently, he’s come to discover that there’s one place he loves being just a smidge more. 

With you. 

–a/n: just smth quick i wrote to procrastinate studying! LMAO

shoyo tag: @cherrysurf

❦ 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.

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

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

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

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

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

everyone and everything is connected

Imagine coming home after a long day of work or what not and you hear eddie talking to someone, you assume one of eddies friends or his uncle is over so you head in to the living room to greet eddie and who ever just to find eddie with like four maine coon kittens he glances over at you and smiles "look what i found in a box babe we can keep them right? I didn't wanna leave them out in the cold or well in general"

NO you did NOT just invoke The Maine Coon Principle™️?!?! 🙀 (This is one of my bestie’s favourite breeds and she’s had numerous over the years, and I’ve even been lucky enough to look after them at my house on occasion).

“Four, Eddie? You’ve brought four cats into the house? You realise we live in an apartment, right?! Well, they are pretty cute, maybe we can keep one. Ohhh, their fur is so sofffft… Okay, maybe two. What do you mean, we can’t split them up because they’ll pine for each other? I’ll split something in a minute… Stop making that face at me. You know I can’t say no to you when you make that face… Don’t- don’t touch me either. Stop. Stop it! Okay, okay, I submit, I submit! We’ll keep them all, Jeez… You gotta promise to help out with the litter though…”

Eddie calls the white one Falcor, and he spends most of his time lounging on sunny windowsills. Despite what you’d heard about white cats, he’s not deaf. Unless you’re scolding him for something, in which case he most definitely invokes his selective hearing.

The grey and white one is Ozzy. He’s the biggest, and he has a wild expression and demeanour that mirrors his namesake. He does what he likes, when he likes, and couldn’t give a dead mouse about what you think.

The brownish-black one Eddie calls Bear, because, well, he is one. He’s a massive softie (just like Eddie), and will find the most inconvenient and inappropriate times and positions in which to demand affection. On the phone to your boss? His butt is in your face. Trying to cook? He’s pawing at your sleeves from the kitchen counter (what is he doing up there anyway?! Get down Bear, you know you’re not allowed up there!)

And the smallest one, a tabby who’s still in reality much larger than your average domestic cat, is called Pickle, because she’s a cheeky minx and is always getting into scrapes. Once, you thought she’d disappeared because you didn’t see her for days, but it turned out she’d made a home on top of the kitchen cabinets. And that time you had to have the flooring up to fix an electrical fault, she managed to sneak down there and came back with fur absolutely covered in cobwebs and, you suspect, a belly full of spiders.

You keep them as house cats because your apartment’s on the fourth floor and there’s no safe space to let them out. And you wouldn’t want to anyway, because they’ve all grown up to be so pretty that you just know some crazy person would take a liking to them and try to steal them away. (You sometimes feel a little like this when Eddie’s playing The Hideout, but you’d never let a little healthy jealousy stop him from doing what he loves. Plus, you know he only has eyes for you. And the cats...)

You don’t know for sure whether they’re siblings (though it’s highly likely), but you understand enough about cats to know that won’t stop them *ahem* procreating. So you got them all neutered when the local animal shelter had a promotional offer, making it more affordable. They’re happy and healthy, and you feel secure in the knowledge that there aren’t ever going to be any ‘surprises’ under your bed one night when you get home. Frankly, that day Eddie brought the box home was quite enough of a cat-related shock to last you a lifetime, thank you very much. (PSA: NEUTER YOUR CATS!)

They eat you out of house and home, the litter thing is never ending, and the hair issue (that was already bad enough just with Eddie shedding his voluminous locks) makes you want to move out sometimes.

But the look on Eddie’s face when Pickle tries to climb between him and his guitar when she wants cuddles, and when two, some times three of them curl up on top of you both when you snuggle down for a movie night, makes it all worthwhile.

There’s debate about whether this breed are either extremely intelligent, or actually a bit stupid. You think you could say the same about Eddie, and you’re still undecided about either the cats or him. You suspect it’s actually a mixture of both. And you wonder whether that’s one of the (many) reasons why you love him, and your found cat family, so very, very much.

🐱🐈

Tagging my general taglist, even though none of you have ever asked to be notified about any cat-related content 😹😹: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

⋆ ₊✧ ˚ 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 ˚ ✧₊⋆

Nanami Kento is absolutely a guy that bites.

Like, randomly bites you. You guys could be lying on the couch, a movie on while your minds are miles away, enjoying comfortable silence together as you unwind from the fatigues of adulthood together.

Then he looks at you, eyes empty at the screen, knowing you're not paying attention— just relaxing. It's dark, the TV lights up you both, he's memorizing the curves of your nose, noting how the little differences in light makes you look somehow more beautiful than the last.

Then your eyes meet. A smile, which is returned. And then he leans down, your eyes locked the entire time.

He then fucking bites you like this

older eddie wakes you up (fluff)

You’re in and out of sleep, when you feel the soft press of Eddie’s plump lips against your skin as the rasp of his low, smooth morning voice hums through your ears.

“Mornin’ baby. Gotta wake up.”

You press your face into your pillow, letting out a small whine when you realize you’d have to be leaving the warmth of his arms and the toasty bed.

“‘M sleepy,” you protest. 

“Mhm,” he responds, laying another kiss on your jaw. 

He moves to delicately place his palm underneath your cheek, guiding it back up from hiding to cradle half of your face. He lets out a small chuckle when your lips are squished and puckered from his little embrace, unable to resist the urge to peck them. 

“I know you are, sweet girl. But we gotta get goin’. Got a long drive ahead.” 

“Mmm. So cozy,” is all you answer, wiping at your eye.

The bed dips, and you feel the scruffy stubble of your man as he ignores your words and continues to press soft kisses to your cheek, slowly moving from your jaw to your ear. 

You do nothing but lay there and smile as he loves on you, hoping he forgets you both need to leave soon.

He drags his pillowy lips, letting them linger on your skin while tracing fingertips steadily through your scalp. You let out a small giggle when his stubble travels across your neck, prickling at you. “Tickles.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Mm - should get up, baby. Everything’s already in the car and ready to go. We can grab some coffee before heading out, stop for a little breakfast when we want to. That sound nice?”

“Mmm, I want hash browns…'n some waffles...eggs.”

You’re so endearing it’s not even funny, he thinks. 

“Whatever you want, baby.”

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.”

eddie munson x reader (nb) ⟡ 18+ mdni !!

fluff, trouble eating, food stuff ; insp. by @br0ck-eddie 💛🌟

You’ve struggled with eating before, so Eddie starts packing your lunches. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest; he’s been making lunches since he was in school, scavenging like a mama raccoon to deliver himself from the outright horror of Hawkins’ cafeteria lunches. Now graduated, he considers you an extension of himself, looking after you in every way possible; buying the groceries, cutting your sandwiches, picking your fruit — building a better life for you than he could ever imagine for himself. He just wants you to feel happy and well-loved, without the added obstacle of choosing to eat every day. In the dimly-lit kitchen each night before work, he burrows scraps of paper for scribbling love notes in earnest; a saved receipt here, a takeout menu there — anything he could use to proclaim how much he loves you, his brazen black scrawl etched in big, sloping letters:

I love you. Be brave.

He folds the note in half like a shared secret between friends, tucking the letter in your bag for safekeeping. When no one’s around, he actually kisses the paper, a pitiful sap for the curve of your smile. At the end of the island, he sets your lunch beside his own, two halves of the same whole. Not one without the other. To him, these lunches are tiny reminders that you are loved; that you’re wanted; that there’s someone to come home to at the end of the day who wants you to eat well. And he’d spend the rest of his life packing you lunches, if only to remind you that you are safe, and abundantly loved.