Scorch & Magic

❦ TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF PT. 3

ft. iwaizumi, bokuto, suna

PART 1 | PART 2

—iwaizumi

shows up at 2:37am when you cant sleep with a bag of stuff he picked up from the convenience store on the way over. herbal teas, face masks, and snacks that he makes you as he tells you to find a feel good movie to put on. doesn’t matter that he needs to get up early the next morning, you’re spending the next couple hours pampering yourself until you fall asleep comfortably in his arms.

—bokuto

candids. all your friends follow him on instagram just because they think you’re the cutest couple in the world. on any given day he’s posting you on his story. a glimpse of your hands interlocked as he’s showing off his fit. you with the adorable dog you found on your walk together. your legs tangled together under the sheets as he shows the new tv show he’s binging. this man shows you off the the most subtle and wholesome way whether he’s conscious of it or not.

—suna

cooks for you. kind of. he’s not the best chef, but as soon as you mention something you like, he’s on the way to the grocery store, looking up the recipe online, and calling osamu for help. his favourite date is a night in where he pours you some nice wine and cooks for you, serving you a plate of whatever you’re craving with clumsily placed garnishes on the side that make you smile. doesn’t matter if it’s good or not, it’s filled with love.

want to read more? check out my masterlist

Eternally yours

Summary: Eddie grapples with the realization that he exists solely in your imagination, while you cling to the fleeting moments you have.

Warning: I found this fic in my drafts from the end of last year. I completely forgot about it and reading it today made me incredibly sad. Why do I write things that hurt? Read at your own risk.

Word count: 744

Eddie stares at your hand resting beside his on the dock. He wonders how his hand can feel so real when it looks and moves just like yours. He can feel the wood beneath his fingertips. He can hear the water brush against the dock. He can see the moon casting a light on your face. It’s all so real, but he’s not. Suddenly, he is acutely aware of his body and the self-awareness causes him to feel uneasy.

Breaking free from his thoughts, you ask Eddie what he does when you’re not around. His voice trails off as he searches for an answer, realizing that his memories revolve solely around you. He musters the words, “I don't know…maybe I only exist when you’re around.”

The weight of your gaze intensifies the ache in his chest, as he grapples with the paradox of your presence while feeling his own absence. You exist and he doesn’t. How can he make sense of that when you're staring right at him, making him feel so alive?

“Do you think of me when we're not together?” He asks softly, feeling cracked open by his vulnerability. If he were to ask you what his lungs looked like, he'd swear you could simply peer down and tell him.

“All the time.”

That eases the ache and he smiles. The cool night breeze envelops both of you as Eddie tentatively lifts his hand, feeling the air flow through his fingers. However, a tremor runs through him, and you reach out to steady his hand with a gentle touch.

“Don’t get lost in it. Just stay with me.” You say.

Eddie tightens his grip on your hand, but his chest rises and falls quickly. He does not meet your eyes, because he is getting lost in it. The panic starts to set in. But then he feels your thumb brush gently over his hand. He hears his name on your lips, and it's as if you pulled him out of the hole he was falling into.

With his brown doe eyes fixed on yours, Eddie’s hand rises to touch your cheek. His fingers trace your face delicately, committing every curve and line to memory. He hesitates before asking, “Is this okay?”

You affirm with a single word, “Yes.”

Noticing a change in your expression and your attempt to control your breathing, Eddie’s thumb caresses your cheek as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

A small smile appears on your face before you admit, “I think about this all the time. You have no idea.”

Curious, Eddie asks, “Think about what?”

“You. And how your touch would feel…” Your voice trails off, cheeks flushing.

Eddie gently tilts your chin up. “How does it feel?”

Your eyes meet and he waits for your response, captivated by each of your breaths. But then, a tear falls from your eyes.

“Better than I could imagine, which is silly because this is all in my imagination,” you confess, your voice breaking as you look away.

Eddie wipes away your tears, his face filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

Suddenly, you envelop Eddie in a tight hug, surprising him but easing his tension. He reciprocates, pulling you closer. Holding you tight.

“I miss you,” You whisper.

The words fall from your lips. Eddie is filled with confusion because he doesn’t know the pain you’ve endured because of his story. He doesn’t know how his fate ended, because this version of him lives on only within your mind—suspended in time. You met him in the middle, where his story was still happy and he was filled with promise of it being his year.

He lets his unanswered question dissolve, softly assuring you, “I’m right here.”

And he is, yet he isn’t. Time has passed, and the world has moved on from him, unbeknownst to Eddie. So, you securely hold him in your heart and mind, ensuring his existence continues.

“You know,” he starts, stroking your hair, “If I exist only because of you, then that’s a life worth living.”

The lake stills, the wind ceases, and just before Eddie can comprehend you're gone, he smiles. The world darkens, freezing him in an eternal moment.

Eddie Munson ceases to exist, residing only in the mind of a shifter, between the pages of the writer, the pen strokes of an artist and through the words of those who read him back to life in every possible scenario.

For every moment you experience in reality, he waits—until you meet again.

Masterlist

“my love,” nanami calls, stepping into the living room with wrinkled pjs and damp hair. you’re laying on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through one of your various shopping apps— spring sales have you adding everything to your cart.

“yes?” you reply, craning your neck to meet his gaze. he lifts your legs, sitting where they were resting before lowering them back down, in his lap. he smells like water and clean laundry— it’s familiar and comforting.

warm hands rest on your calves, you put your phone down to give him your full attention.

“you have my debit card on your phone and wallet,” he starts, “you know that, right?”

you nod slowly, giving him a confused look. “i know.”

“you haven’t used it at all. i just checked my statement.” he says, “didn’t i tell you to buy whatever you want?”

“you did,” you smile, almost laughing at the situation. “and i’m grateful, always, that you offer to pay for my things, but i have my own money too, ken— also! i did use it, actually.”

he rolls his eyes, not malicious, of course. “yeah, for boba. twice. do you know how many shopping bags you’ve hauled into this house the past month?”

he’s being sarcastic and you laugh. this has always been something you guys quarrel about, kento giving you all his money and assets, immediately throwing his card whenever you mention something you like. “why do you want me to spend your money so bad?”

kento pouts, just slightly, it’s barely even noticeable.

“i’m grateful, baby,” you say, “but you already pay for so much— this house, my car insurance, the bills and date nights… i’m already spending quite a lot, no?”

“you can spend more,” he pouts, “what i pay for already is nothing— i want to buy you more, for you to have everything you want.”

“i already have everything i want,” you tease, “he’s actually sitting in front of me, kindly massaging my calves.”

he narrows his gaze, a smile twitching onto his lips.

“we’re going to the mall this weekend— the far one,” he decides, “we haven’t been to the mall together for a while, love. i wonder why is that?”

you hum, avoiding his gaze, “maybe because the last time we went, you secretly took my wallet out of my purse and hid it in your underwear drawer so you could pay for everything?”

he laughs, recalling the moment. “i am absolutely doing that again— also, i saw that app you were scrolling on, let me see what you have, i’ll get it for you.”

notes from mei! i do have a shopping addiction actually (im dirt poor rn and in withdrawal) but i see my future (this fic) and its so so bright

Cuddling with Eddie on the couch during a cold winter night watching some movies and despite being wrapped in his arms with a blanket covering the both of you, you still feel cold.

Eddie’s wearing one of his oversized band shirts that he had accidentally picked out thinking it would be a tight fit, but for some reason the size ran differently than normal band tees, and of course he loved it too much to return it after trying it on at home because it was the only size they had left.

Since you were still cold, an idea came to you that you knew would warm you right up. Eddie’s body always gave off heat, no matter how warm or cold it was outside, so you used that to your advantage.

You lifted your head where you had it laying against his chest and shuffled a few inches downward so you could lift the hem of his shirt up to stick your head underneath and press your cold face against his warm, bare chest.

Eddie raised his eyebrows at your sudden action, letting out a soft laugh of amusement. “What are you doing, silly girl?”

“M’still cold. Need your warmth to warm up my face.” You murmured as you nuzzled your cheek against him some more to bask in his warmth, earning a wide grin from your boyfriend.

“God, you’re adorable. You know that?” He beamed, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“Uh huh.” You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “I love you, Baby.”

“I love you.”

Just a random thought that came to me that I wanted to share 🖤 We love space heater boyfriend!Eddie in this household 🥰

“i should leave.”

“stay.” sukuna grunts, his arm tightening around you.

it was another hot night of intimacy with your king, as a part of his harem, your duty was to satisfy him when needed, and that's exactly what happened tonight.

“but my lord —” you begin to protest, your mind not quite wrapping around the idea of staying the night in his chambers, after all, he didn't like waking up to a concubine next to him.

“i said stay.” he says, his voice rough as he pulls you closer against his bare chest.

you can’t help but feel heat spread at your cheeks. unsure of what to do next, you simply lay in his arms, trying to brush off the thought of what this could mean — he never liked sharing his bed and now he was asking you to stay the night? that won't settle well with the other concubines, they were already jealous of you as it is.

after all, ever since you came, sukuna has been paying extra attention to you, spending more time and more heated nights with your company.

he can't help it really, and he hates it — the chokehold you have on him was almost unbearable for the king of curses.

and yet, he couldn't find it in himself to push you away.

you were like an addicting drug — all took was one night and sukuna was hooked, everything about you was intoxicating.

from the curves of your body to the taste of your lips against his to the addicting perfume you always wore, he couldn't get enough.

and asking you to stay was definitely evidence of that.

his fingers trace the outline of your body and you shiver at the touch, which makes sukuna let out a little chuckle.

“just admiring you.” he mutters and you try not to gasp — had he had too much to drink again?

“don't leave.” he says after a while and it takes you a moment before you nod, “i won't.”

and the king of curses practically purrs,

“good.”

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.

never doing this ending

𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 — 𝒂 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: during a quiet afternoon, you and eddie discuss (hypothetical) wedding songs.

author's note: it feels right to repost this the day before valentine's. i hope you all have, or someday find, a love that makes you feel the same way i do when i listen to the song referenced in this story <3

"Have you ever thought about what song you're gonna want to play at your wedding?"

You were both sitting at the old brown couch of the Munson's front porch, the afternoon breeze blowing through the unusually quiet Trailer Park. There were no dogs barking, no kids running, no yelling coming from a neighbor's trailer. Only the sun, the late autumn chill, and the gentle breeze.

Eddie was lying down, his head on top of your crossed legs as you played with his hair. Your question caught him off-guard, looking up at you with raised eyebrows.

"You mean at our wedding?"

He could tell you were flustered by the way you hesitated to answer, brows furrowing, trying to disguise it. The urge to lift himself up and give you a smacking kiss on the forehead was temporarily buried inside, waiting to hear what you had to say. "I don't know. Like, a hypothetical wedding. With a hypothetical bride."

His answer was earnest, though.

"The only bride that's ever come to mind is you, babe."

"Just answer the damn question!" You exclaimed, rising both of your hands in the air.

"I just told you I don't know! I've never thought about getting hitched, never mind what song I'd want to play at the ceremony."

This bit was earnest as well. Eddie had never, in his twenty years, thought about getting married. His parents' disaster of a relationship made sure that he'd never seen marriage as something healthy, let alone an option. There were also his beliefs that marriage was a failed institution made to subjugate people, and that the church and the state shouldn't have a say in people's relationships.

Eddie thought he'd be like Wayne and live his life without a partner, just go through with it by himself. It was much less complicated, even if lonely.

He was seldom lonely now, with you in his life — and though you were way too early in your relationship, or too young and inexperienced, to think about marriage, if he was to think about it, it would be with you. Every one of his other thoughts ran to you, this one would be no different.

"Not the ceremony. A first dance kind of song, you know?"

He considered a few options for a moment, in silence, but he was still curious to know what you were thinking. "If you're asking me that question, that means that you already know yours, don't you?"

"You don't know that. I'm just asking." You shrugged, lowering your voice, suddenly vulnerable. "Forget what I said."

"Sweetheart…" Eddie laid fully on his back, looking up at you. "Tell me what's the song."

Narrowing your eyes at him from above, you grabbed his chin, squishing his lips for a second. "You're gonna laugh at me."

"When have I ever…" Remembering all the times, in the early days of your blossoming friendship, where he followed you around the record store with the sole purpose of laughing at your music choices, he stopped, scoffing at himself. "Don't answer that."

Gently, you pushed him off of you and stood up, silently going into the house.

"Just tell me! Now I want to know." Eddie protested as he followed you inside.

He watched as you went into his room, bent down at the waist — and what a view that was, he thought to himself, not trusting to make a lewd comment to distract you from the moment — and quickly looked through his records, finally pulling one from the crate.

Trying to think of what it could be, because he had no idea what song in his large collection of tapes and long plays could possibly be enough of your taste to be played at your (hypothetical) wedding. When he saw it, though, it clicked.

It was a copy of The Beatles' "Revolver". His only copy of an album by your favorite band. You had gifted it to him after he told you he found the experimentation, and all the drug references, in it "badass". He really did, and he was happy to own it as long as it made you happy.

Still silent, you put it in the record player above his dresser, and selected a track without looking at the listing in the back cover, most likely commiting each one of them to memory. His heart swelled as he watched you turn around, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, struggling to meet his eyes as the song started.

"To lead a better life

I need my love to be here…"

Paul McCartney's voice and the two-voice harmony that accompanied him was the only thing that could be heard in his bedroom for a moment, until you started explaining yourself.

"When I was younger, sometimes… Actually, I still do that…" you started, "I listen to this song when I'm alone, and I feel like swaying to it. Like I'm slow dancing with someone, you know? Two steps to the left, two steps to the right." You did a little dancing motion, lightening up the mood. "It's the perfect song to dance to, but I'd never had a partner to dance with me. So I'd dream about it, about the day I'd have someone who'd love me enough to dance with me."

Your sad smile broke his heart, but what put it together was knowing he could be the one to dance with you.

"It's such a simple song, really. Just a guitar and the vocal harmonies, but it's… it's beautiful. Makes me feel like I'm floating, or something." You continued.

Eddie approached you, then, pulling you forward by both of your hands and making you stand flush to his chest, where he held you by the waist with one arm, the other raising to hold the hand that wasn't resting on his shoulder.

"I'm not much of a dancer, but I'll dance to any song you want to."

It was a murmur, a promise whispered by his lips touching your hairline. You chuckled, your head resting on his collarbone, and began swaying the two of you just as you said before. Two steps to the left, two to the right.

Eddie added his own flair, spinning you around, and it was worth it just to see the you giggled. The song wasn't long, a little over two minutes long, but it was long enough to trap you in your little world, your hypothetical wedding dance, in his very real, very messy bedroom.

"So… is that our wedding song?" He teased, still holding you, after it was over.

You slapped his arm lightly, but he could feel you smiling against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. "It could be."

"I like it, baby."

Then, you look up, wrapping your arms around his lean waist. "Really?"

"I like whatever makes you feel like you're floating."

"Do you wanna know what else makes me feel like that?"

"Weed?"

"You."

At that moment, Eddie still knew he didn't want the church or the state to be involved in your relationship, but he wouldn't mind throwing a party just to make the most beautiful girl in the world float around the room for one night.

💤💤💤 💤

There are few things in life that make Tobio Kageyama's pupils dilate.

The first one, of course, was volleyball.

The high of setting a perfect ball, making a great dump, and getting an ace. The squeak of new shoes and the smell of the court. The cheering in the stands and the feeling of your teammates' hands slapping his back. All of it made his heart beat faster, his hands get sweaty and mind focused.

Volleyball was his first love, without a shadow of a doubt.

But it was not his only love.

He met you after a game he won (3-0, may I add, which he claims only happened because you were in the stands that day), when you stopped him when he was exiting the gym and decided to shoot your shot.

He was still a silly third year highschooler, fresh out of an insane win, so he, of course, said something really smart along the lines of "Huh...uhm... you sure?"

Anyways, he was glad you were not freaked out by his reaction and just giggled at him (even though nowadays you laugh loudly when remembering this situation), claiming you really did want his number. Because if you didn't, he wouldn't meet his second (and dearest) love: you, the second thing that can make his pupil dilate.

The high of kissing you, grabbing your hand or going on dates with you. The sound of your laugh and the smell of your perfume. The anxiety he felt moments prior kneeling down on one knee. The cheering of his teammates congratulating him for this new chapter of his life. The sight of you in white.

It all makes him feel like throwing up (in a good way), his brain feel like mud and those stupid butterflies start flying around his stomach.

He thought that was it. He had you and volleyball. He didn't need anything more.

Oh, how utterly wrong he was.

His third and final love is his daughter.

His 17 year old self would never be able to imagine that such a tiny being would bring him so much joy and pride. A mini version of you mixed with some of his characteristics made his heart swell with happiness.

The feeling of his chest - almost physically - inflating during your daughter's ballet presentations, the sound of her sweet "Daddy!" when he comes back home from practice, the image of you and her watching on him from the stands.

So, yeah. These are the things that make his eyes shine brighter and joy take over his entire being. He doesn't need anything else in his life, only the three most important things for him.

....or does he?

Well, your growing belly will surely put this theory to test.

And, once again, you'll probably prove him wrong.

Uhm... haikyuu debut fic??? I've never written for Kags b4, so sorry if this ooc ☹️😔