Another Little Soft Mechanic!Sukuna Drabble Because I Love Him ;( Gets Literally A Biiit Suggestive But

okay but reader with cuteness aggression just randomly biting eddie and he just lets them

no bc i have this and i tend to bite people a lot

— still doing some of the requests!

"oh!"

eddie's startled when you pounce on him, arms wrapped around his waist from behind. he laughs when you dig your cheek on his spine, linking his fingers with yours and letting his rings delve between the crevices of your thin limbs.

"hi," he smiles, turning around so you'd rest your cheek onto his shirt. you whiff his aroma — cigarettes, drug store cologne, gasoline. things people think would reek, but you've gotten used to it that you crave for the bizarre odor. "what's up, bug?"

"nothing," you place your chin on his chest. eddie looks down, chin to his neck, and wrinkles his nose at your small pout. "where've you been? i got out of the shower and you were gone."

eddie runs a vacant hand through your damp hair, untangling its wet knots until all he feels are its silk tresses. "i fed the cat outside again," he says, and you smile slightly, bottom lip grazing the fabric of his shirt.

you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger, lips pursing. "cute," you say.

"yeah?" he raises a brow. "you know what else is cute?"

he removes an arm around you, but keeps the other to pull you closer to him. eddie reaches behind to pull out a posy of sunflowers, a bit small held in his large hand. you gawp quietly, taking your hand off his waist to take the small bouquet.

"eddie," you mutter. "where'd you get this?"

"off the old man's house. the one that's always almost naked," eddie pushes your hair off your shoulder, smiles at the way you admire the posy. "i saw the sunflowers and i know how much you loved them so i picked you some."

he grins when you coo, fingers touching the soft petals. "thank you. i-" you clutch the posy to your chest, and you find yourself opening your mouth to bite on his chest.

eddie yelps, placing his hands on your shoulders to push you away. "sweets, what was that for?"

"you're just," you clutch your bouquet tightly, the other hand coming up into a tight fist before you squeeze his forearm. "you're so cute i wanna bite your ass off."

he chuckles. "wouldn't be opposed to that."

you bite on his arm, gentler, one with the use of your lips than your teeth. and eddie watches you as if you're the cat he feeds outside — stroking your hair as he gently sways you.

yeah he definitely doesn't think your biting thing isn't a little bit weird.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

You, Me, and Forever

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson has never been careful. He loves big, loud, and without hesitation.

The ring wasn’t anything fancy.

No diamond, no fancy box.

Just a simple silver band, a little worn but still beautiful.

Eddie turned it over in his fingers, his leg bouncing slightly like he was nervous.

Because he was. Very.

“I know this isn’t how it’s supposed to go,” he said, his voice rough. “I didn’t plan a big thing, didn’t ask your dad or get some expensive ring.” He took a breath, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world.

Because to him, you were.

“But I swear, I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You sat next to him on the floor of his trailer, your backs against the couch, an open pizza box beside you.

The TV hummed in the background, but neither of you paid attention to it anymore.

“You’re serious?” you asked, staring at the ring.

Eddie let out a nervous laugh. “Dead serious.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his curls even more. “I know we’re young, and maybe it’s crazy, but I don’t care. I just know I want you. Forever.”

Your heart pounded in your chest so hard it almost hurt. So loud, you were sure he could hear it.

Forever.

Eddie had always been wild. You often found him throwing himself into things without fear, never holding back. And now, he was doing the same with you.

And you loved him so much for it.

Your throat felt tight, your hands shaking just a little.

Eddie swallowed hard, suddenly realising that it might have been too much for you. “Shit, you don’t have to say yes, I just-”

“Yes,” you whispered.

His eyes widened. “What?”

You reached for his hand, guiding him as he slid the ring onto your finger. It was a little big, but it didn’t matter.

“Ask me again,” you said.

Eddie’s forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm. “Marry me.”

You smiled and confidently spoke up once more. “Yes.”

And then he kissed you.

Not soft, not careful, after all, Eddie didn’t do anything halfway.

His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you close, kissing you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

Eddie loved with all of his being.

And you’d never wanted anything more.

---

Eddie leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you with a smirk.

“You’re gonna kill me, Sweetheart.”

You raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”

He pushed off the counter, closing the space between you. “Yeah. Every single day.”

Your back pressed against the counter as his hands rested on your hips.

“You’re silly,” you whispered, fingers running into his curls.

“And you’re beautiful, and funny. And way too good for a guy like me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Eddie-”

“I’m serious.” He cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I don’t know how I got this lucky, but I’m never letting go.”

You smiled, tilting your head. “You’re really bad at shutting up, you know that?”

He grinned. “Then make me.”

So you kissed him.

Eddie loved loud. He loved you.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

An otherwise quiet night is filled with the sniffling sounds of crying. The tv plays on mute, the picture of another random tv show flickering acts as the only light on in the living room.

You snuggle closer to Eddie on the couch. Feet digging deeper into the olive-colored fabric as your legs tangle. You’re both kind of sitting but mostly laying against the pillows at one end.

Eddie’s arm wraps around you, keeping a light grip as his other hand finds your jaw, gentle fingers softly caressing the skin there and along your cheek, taking your tears with them.

You follow the sparse flecks of freckles and moles on his neck, counting each one until you get to the scars stretching along the left side. Pink scars moving with each movement of his mouth and each swallow.

Fingers itch to caress his jaw just as his do to yours, but your fingers have a grip on the necklace resting on his chest. Your thumb rubs the dark red plastic, running along the edge, tickling the skin just below.

He tells you as much every time it happens, causing a wet laugh to leave you.

Your eyes are so focused on the lower half of his face, you don’t notice his watching you, watching every tear leave your eyes, watching every huff leave your mouth.

Watching you fall apart for just a bit in his arms, not keeping things bottled up for once.

His warm lips touch your cheekbone, kissing a tear that started to make its way down your face.

This goes on for the next few minutes, though it feels like seconds, between whispered love you’s as he kisses away as many tears as he can.

gn//f//m reader, fluff, established rl

sukuna who quietly takes up a hobby of pottery and slowly leaves his trinkets around his house :(

it starts small. a tiny figurine, barely the size of your thumb, placed on your nightstand without a word. it's your cat, belly perfectly round, little paws tucked in, an expression so accurately grumpy that you almost think it’s store-bought. but no, the slightly uneven texture and the faint grooves of fingers along its back give it away—this was handmade.

then come the plates. at first, just quarter plates for the both of you. then bigger ones. serving bowls. one day, a dish so enormous appears on the dining table that you stare at it in horror.

"who are we feeding, the entire neighborhood?"

"your fatass cat," sukuna grumbles, arms crossed, but the corners of his lips twitch. "he won’t eat out of anything else now." and sure enough, your cat is sitting beside it, looking absolutely smug, tail flicking as if to say, "finally, a bowl befitting my stature."

the jewelry tray appears next, a shallow ceramic dish with a slight tilt because, as he explains, he’s still "figuring out how to make the damn things symmetrical." you paint it gold and pink, his least favorite colors, just to be annoying. he doesn’t complain. "not bad," he mutters, picking it up to inspect. "at least it ain't neon green."

but it’s the ashtray that really gets you. shaped into a heart, of all things. you stare at it for a good minute before looking at him, one brow raised. "shut up," he says before you can even speak.

"i didn’t say anything."

"you were thinking it."

you paint the heart ashtray a gaudy red and put tiny, illegible gold lettering across the rim that just barely resembles the words kiss the chef. when he notices, he lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "you're real lucky i like you," he mutters, flicking ash into it without hesitation.

the funniest thing is how he never makes a fuss when you accidentally break one of his pieces. you nearly cry when you chip one of the quarter plates, apologizing profusely, but he only shrugs.

"eh, i’ll just make another one."

"but it took you weeks—"

"yeah, yeah, and i’ll do it again." he nudges your forehead with a clay-stained knuckle. "quit looking so guilty, brat. it just means i get to see you smile over a new one."

you do. every time. <3

unspoken valentine

fwb!eddie munson x reader

summary: you want more, but eddie’s destructive tendencies get in the way. (2.2k)

warnings: sexual content but no smut, small mention of oral (m. receiving), angst, hurt/comfort, eddie self-sabotaging stuff, mdni.

<3

“There you go, babe. All cleaned up.”

Eddie shuffles back into your bed after tossing the used tissue in your trash can, smiling into your hair when you cuddle closer to him. His heart warms when you lay your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

Eddie knows he’s so incredibly lucky to get to hold you like this in your post sex haze because it wasn’t always like this. Before, when the already muddled boundaries of friends with benefits weren’t crossed, the two of you would quickly dress right after fucking and go on with your days as if nothing ever happened. It’s different now.

Now that he’s surrounded and completely captivated by you, mind foggy with the sultry scent of sex and your fruity perfume that lingers on his sheets and skin, Eddie wonders how he was able to do it before. How was he able to tear himself away from your warmth the second the two of you were done and move on as if you didn’t just have the best sex of your lives?

Leaving you was once easy, but now it is an impossible feat. He’s never felt such a fervent need for affection from anyone until you started coming by more often, letting him kiss your lips after you finished, and touching him as if you weren’t just casually fucking.

At first, he thought the fantastic sex was just getting to his head, making him see you in a way that wasn’t akin to his very platonic feelings towards you. But then he started catching himself admiring the cadence of your laughter and the beauty in your eyes. And so the pining ensued.

He started doing little things for you like offering to fix your car and bringing you lunch to your work (usually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because it’s all he knows how to make and a cookie from your favorite bakery.)

Really, Eddie was disgusting whipped. He found that it wasn’t difficult, rather incredibly easy, to like you. All it took was a simple glance of yours for his heart to skip a beat, cupid’s arrow striking him right through the chest every single time as if he wasn’t already halfway in love with you.

And maybe, a small part of him thought, maybe you like him in the way he likes you. He’s nearly certain that there’s something unspoken between the two of you.

He’s noticed the way you light up whenever he’s near, his mere presence pulling you out of your sour moods, and the way you get all shy and flustered when he compliments your smile or kindness or whatever else it is that has his head spinning that day.

He’s realized that you touch him like you love him. Eddie knows that touch is your way of showing affection, constantly noting the way you hug Robin tight when you haven’t seen her in a while or rub a hand between Steve’s shoulders when he’s stressed. But, when you’re with him, your cuddles and embraces and nibbles and pinches are bursting in a certain romance that you’ve never shown to anyone else. You always take a moment to place a trail of small love-filled kisses down his chest before dipping down to take him between your lips. And when you’re cuddled close against him afterwards, you trace the ridges of his scars with nimble fingers, as if to remind him of how beautiful he is, scars and all.

He’s okay with this odd dynamic for now. But the consuming and enthralling thought of you feeling the same way he does is one he constantly brushes away, his fear of rejection and self-sabotaging tendencies never allowing him to linger on the subject.

He’s having a difficult time getting himself out of that reoccurring turmoil right now as you smooth circles into the skin of his neck and scoot up to place a chaste peck on his kiss bitten lips. He chases pathetically after you for more, but you ignore it and shuffle out of his embrace, wrapping yourself in the throw blanket that was tossed on your bedroom floor. Eddie can’t help but scoff a bit. It’s not like he hasn’t seen every part of you already.

He leans up on his elbows and watches as you saunter to your closet as best as you can while tangled in the fabric. For a second, he thinks you’re going to get changed and ask him to leave. But he before he could dwell on it, he realizes he’s mistaken as you’re coming back to your bed with a sparkly pink gift in hand.

Your breath tickles his skin when you speaks. “A present.” Your words mumble together in laziness. “For you,” you add when you’re met with silence.

Eddie eyes the bag suspiciously and begins to open it when you lovingly pinch his bicep. He gently tears through the red and pink tissue paper stamped in white hearts, ignoring the uncomfortable weight in the pit of his stomach. A part of him dreads getting to the end of it, nerves aflame with anxiety. In the middle of it lies a painted guitar pick with a few bats threaded through a thin chain necklace and a custom mixtape with “happy valentine’s day” written in your handwriting.

Eddie falters, a sharp exhale jolting you off his shoulder.

Your voice cuts through the silence. “Do you like it?”

He doesn’t not like it. No, he fucking loves it. But it’s too much, too much for friends with benefits and too much for his fragile, self-sabotaging heart.

He forces himself not to look at you as he knows he won’t be able to stop himself from falling in love with you if he does. Instead, his eyes bore into the heart above the “i” on the mixtape, despising the way the moths in his tummy flutter alive at the sight of the small doodle. This is just you showing affection towards a friend, right? Eddie thinks you probably got Steve something similar. And even if you didn’t, even if your feelings for him aren’t just a figment of his imagination and you’ve poured your special affection into this one gift, he just can’t. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you or anyone for that matter.

“What is this?” He questions dumbly, wincing at the stern, whispered tone of his own voice.

He feels you trying to catch his eyes as you tilt your head towards him, but his gaze is strictly fixed on the mixtape. “I-I wanted to do something… something nice for Valentine’s day.” Your nervous stutters only worsen the tight feeling on Eddie’s throat.

He shakes his head, “That’s couple shit.” He works up the courage to look at you with a hardened gaze, and the sight nearly kills him. You’re chewing on your bottom lip, the ridges of your teeth bruising your skin maroon, while your brows are furrowed together in something that resembles hurt.

“Is that so wrong?”

It is wrong.

Eddie knows everything about this is wrong. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to play out. You’re only supposed to be fucking, not giving each other sentimental gifts that teeter on the edge of romance. He can’t have this, and he can’t have you because you deserve better. “I just wanted to do something for you.” He can tell by the slight tremble in your voice that you’re trying to keep your composure as best as you can.

“Well, you shouldn’t have. I don’t know what you think we are, but it’s not this.”

His words come out like venom, infiltrating your veins and piercing your heart. He watches your expression shift, hurt now laced into all of your pretty features. In the same way that Eddie masks his affection for you with cruel words, you’re quick to veil your pain with an anger that he knows he deserves.

“Fuck you, Eddie! You’re acting as if you haven’t treated me like your fucking girlfriend for months now.” You move away from him, letting the blanket drop off of you as you begin to dress.

He sighs harshly, eyes quickly darting away from your naked body. He can’t deny your point, but he also can’t let himself express what he truly feels. “That’s not what we agreed on when we started fucking around!”

You’re seething when you turn to look at him, now in a large hoodie and a pair of shorts. “Don’t you think I know that? Do you think I planned for any of this? You think I planned on liking you so bad that it hurts? I fucking didn’t. Things change, asshole! You certainly didn’t plan on liking me either!”

“I- I don’t-“ Before Eddie could spit out more words that he doesn’t mean, you walk to him, your body towering over his sitting frame and eyes squinted.

“Don’t start with that. Don’t try to deny it. You think I don’t recognize your little act? I know you like me, but you’re just self sabotaging because you think you don’t deserve anything, right? You aren’t worthy of happiness?”

Your words strike him hard like a wave of freezing water that crashes over him. He was a fool to think you wouldn’t see right through him.

You’re unstoppable as you continue to lash out at him. “Stop being so fucking mean to your self! When are you going to realize that you’re allowed to have nice things, that you don’t have to fuck everything up? Call me when you do, but until then, get out.”

It’s your words that snap Eddie out of his deranged state. You step back, giving him the space to walk out of your bedroom door and potentially never come back. But he stands up and follows you instead, his tall, lanky body now towering over you. He has to do something quick. He grabs your wrist as gently as he can possibly manage and tugs you toward him.

You watch him intently as he scans your face, trying to piece his words together in his scrambled mind.

He rubs a trembling hand down his face. “Fuck, I- I don’t know how to do this shit.” His heart feels like it’s pounding out of his chest. In some weird and twisted way, confessing his feelings for you is harder than hurting you. “I’ve never been good at feelings. I do shit like this to myself all the time, and I- I don’t know why.”

His eyes squeeze shut for a second, the sparks of light dancing behind his eyelids an odd comfort to his spinning mind. “B-But I do know that I like you a lot and…. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your eyes soften upon seeing the tears threatening to spill out of his own, the anger that they once held slowly draining. Nodding softly, you wrap your hand around his forearm. The warmth and pressure of your touch grounds and encourages him. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I like you so much, and I don’t want to lose you ‘cause I don’t know how to handle things like these. But, I want to learn with you. Just give me a chance, sweetheart, please.”

He follows your gaze as it roams down between your bodies, lips bitten in thought. A few tedious seconds of silence, you finally meet his eyes.

“Eddie,” you start slow. “I really fucking like you. I don’t want to lose you either. We can take it slow, and figure things out together. But, if you’re getting in your head about stuff, you have to tell me, yeah?”

He feels like he could cry out of the myriad of emotions he’s experienced. But mainly because he doesn’t understand how someone as charismatic and kind as you is giving him another chance. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry that wasn’t fair to you.,” he murmurs sincerely.

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it.”

He sighs, feeling as if the weight of the world has finally come off him and let him breathe. “We’re okay?”

“We’re okay,” you respond, arms coming around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug. He wonders if you can hear the way his heart swells for you. His eyes flutter closed as his own arms circle around your shoulders, comforted in the way you touch him.

“The mixtape looks sick and the necklace too. Thank you.” He mumbles into the top of your head, nose nuzzled in your hair. “Can we go on a drive and listen to it? Maybe go out to dinner after?”

You giggle against the corner of his lips. “Yeah, okay. But first-”

“What?” He asks, wide-eyed and ready to do whatever you want him to do.

“Put some pants on.”

thank u for reading! this goes out to my single chicks who love angst (me). please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed! i’d love to know your thoughts.

Rintaro loves to pretend he doesn’t care.

There’s a nonchalance that carries around your man, one that comes from years of training of gaslighting the twins and making them turn against each other, or the scoldings from Kita-San that could’ve got so intense with his disappointment Rintaro could cry.

He’s gotten good at keeping a stoic emotion and making you act out. He loves to pretend he doesn’t care.

“It’s because he doesn’t,” Atsumu assures, playing with the strings of his hoodie.

You roll your eyes, “trust me, he cares. You just don’t see it.”

“And I never will. Because it doesn’t happen.”

You raise your brows in challenge, and he matches your brow raising. “Wanna bet on it?”

“Wager?”

“If I can prove to you Rintaro actually is a dork for my attention, I want a signed Kiyoomi jersey.”

He scoffs, “can’t you just ask Kiyoomi for one?”

“Komori tells me not to bother him after games.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes, “okay. And when he doesn’t show he’s a loser, I want all you can eat at Onigiri Miya and you pick up the bill.”

“….”

“What?”

“Osamu doesn’t naturally give you all you can eat?”

“No?”

“Oh…”

“Does he GIVE IT TO YOU?!”

You give him a cheesy smile and quickly move to grab your keys, his jaw slacked in betrayal, only for him to roll his eyes, “whatever. Either way, we’re going when I win. What’re the keys for?”

“You’ll see.”

You jingle your keys with a small smirk, making sure to do it loud enough for him to hear down the hall. Atsumu shakes his head in disbelief, only for his hand to cover his mouth as socked feet quickly become louder as Rintaro barrels down the hall.

A lanky frame fills the doorway, “where you goi-“

Atsumu and you let out a string of cackles, his hand smacking his knee while Rintaro scrubs his face with his free hand, the other one holding a controller for his, hopefully, paused game.

“Dawg I hate you for real,” he sighs, coming into the room to kiss your head. You smile and angle your head to kiss him for real, which he complies with happily and making Atsumu gag. His green eyes dart to glare at Atsumu, “I wish osamu was an only child.”

“Damn, bringing guns to knife fights,” the blonde snorts. “Not my fault you got caught in 4K, dickhead.”

“Not my fault you’re a single loser.” He leans down to kiss your lips, “where’re we going?”

“No where,” you hum happily. “Just wanted to make sure you were still obsessed with me.”

He beams down at you while Atsumu groans in disgust.

“Always.”

RINRINRINRINRIN

“As I’ve already stated,” Nanami pauses to sip at the coffee in his hand, “I’ve no interest in speaking to her.” 

Annoyed, Gojo leans back in his seat, casting a glance to the Instagram post that he had shown Nanami — the girl in it was attractive, but somehow it still wasn’t the blonde’s type. 

“Hmm, maybe you’re just not into brunettes,” Gojo says dismissively, scrolling through the woman’s Instagram before stowing his phone away into his pocket. 

Nanami bites back the chuckle in his throat, masking it by taking another sip of his now lukewarm coffee. A shame that Gojo kept interrupting him just as he wanted to enjoy his break.  

“I’m not into anyone,” Nanami finally says, setting down his cup — though he is quite frustrated considering that the coffee had been purchased by someone else for him.  

“Oh? What, have some secret girlfriend I don’t know about?” Gojo teases, already laughing at his own joke. Nanami shoots him a pointed glare, subconsciously running a finger over the smooth metal band adorning his left ring finger.  

“I don’t see how—“ 

Nanami’s phone buzzes on the table, its screen displaying your image. It’s one of Nanami’s favorite photos of you, one that he had taken himself during one of your monthly date nights.  

Gojo’s eyes flicker down to the flashing screen, his eyebrows raising and his eyes widening in absolute shock. “Who—?” 

Nanami is quick to answer the call, pressing the phone against his ear and doing very little to hide the smile that curls his lips upward. “Hi love.” 

Gojo’s jaw goes completely slack. It’s an expression that would make anyone laugh — Nanami is honestly shocked at how well he was able to keep his straightforward façade.  

“Yes, I should be home soon. I did not forget,” Nanami’s tone is reassuring, one that Gojo had never heard in the stoic man’s voice before. It’s heartwarming, not that he would ever admit it out loud.  

“I love you too, bye now.” 

The minute that Nanami hangs up, Gojo is practically screaming. Heads turn, and in a fit of both frustration and embarrassment, Nanami attempts to diffuse the situation. 

“You have a girlfriend?!” 

“Wife, actually.” 

“Are you—?!” 

Spencer is so clingy and touchy once he gets comfortable and close enough with his partner I just know it. He's been so touch-starved his entire life, and now that he finally has somebody he feels safe and secure with, he just has to be as close as possible to you.

When you kiss, his hands are allll over you: your face, shoulders, waist, literally everywhere. He pulls you so impossibly close to him it's like he's trying to fuse with you and yet he's still trying to tug you closer. Even after you pull away from the kiss, he's pressing your foreheads together and bumping his nose against yours.

Almost every time you sit next to each other, his legs are brushing against yours. Will occasionally gently knock his shoe against yours if you're sitting across from him, and you can tell it wasn't an accident because he smiles at you dopily every time.

Can and will cuddle for hours straight if you let him, wrapping you up in his arms and pressing chaste kisses to any area of skin he can reach in whatever position you're cuddling in. He can't fall asleep without you touching or at least near him, if you have to get up he gets all pouty and waits for you to get back so he can hold you again.

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

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

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

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