Latest Posts by anonymouskiwi - Page 3
you can only think of one way to describe BOKUTO KOUTAROU.
a child.
he’s a literal child, you think, as he runs out into the rain. june had just come around the corner, and as the weather got colder, it had started to rain.
bokuto, as usual, was thrilled.
“y/n! y/n!! it’s raining, look, let’s go outside!!! i want to run around in the rain—”
“kou, darling, you’re going to get sick like last time.”
but of course, he doesn’t listen.
“come outside with me, y/n! please?”
and seeing the look on his face, who were you to say no?
you have to force him to go inside.
“you’re drenched, kou, let’s go inside before you get sick.”
begrudgingly, but amazingly, he follows you inside.
he's quiet for a little while.
too quiet, you think.
“y/n?”
“yes, love?”
“thanks for coming outside with me. i had fun.”
you can hear that his voice is a little hoarse.
and then—
bokuto lets out the loudest sneeze known to man.
“oh my god, kou, i told you you’d get sick!!”
hq m.list | gen m.list
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 ☹️😔
To me, the craziest thing about this panel isn't the extremely charged handshake, nor the intense eye contact, but rather the perspective.
Furudate is really good at toying with perspective to convey the story's motifs and themes. Here, thanks to the perspective, it looks like the net is above Hinata and Kageyama, when in fact it isn't that tall. In fact, I know it's right between them. But with the way this panel was drawn, it looks like they're facing each other with an unobstructed view.
The imagery here is clear: it doesn't matter that they're on opposite sides of the net now, there's nothing keeping them apart anymore. They stand on even ground, on equal footing, face to face.
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
AKAASHI KEIJI is known as the 'serious kid' around fukurodani.
he's not unpopular, per se. but having a friend like bokuto, all smiles and laughs and "hey, hey, hey!!", it's hard to really stand out.
people saw him as an addition to bokuto, most of the time.
but that was before he met you.
you, with your smiles and bubbling personality, bring out something in akaashi that not even his closest friends could do.
and suddenly, the students of fukurodani academy see a different side of akaashi. one that smiles, laughs, and hands you flowers in the morning before going to class, hand in hand with you.
some find it fascinating. (bokuto.)
some call it weird.
but for you and akaashi?
you wouldn't have it any other way.
hq m.list | gen m.list
Thinking about how Atsumu turned all pouty whenever he saw his teammates getting a jump hug from their partners after a game.
“Why can’t we do that?”, he whined and looked at you with big puppy eyes.
“Because I would hurt you.”, you replied patiently.
“Nuh-uh. Why do ya think I go to the gym?”
His sage logic aside you only chuckled, still fairly certain he wasn’t serious.
“A layman might think it’s for your job.”
“Not anymore!”, he countered, “Been meaning to tell ya. I’ve long ago abandoned the dream and am now solely focused on giving ya the lovin’ ya deserve. Up against a wall.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, honey, but that will never happen.”, you patted his cheek and turned to join the crowd in their slow migration towards the exits.
“Why not?”, he whined, catching up with you.
“Because I will not be responsible for the end of a pro athlete’s career, that’s why.”
“That’s so unfair.”, he stepped into your way, “I want a jump hug. With impact. I want us to almost bang our heads together and only narrowly avoid a major concussion.”
Chewing your lips you looked down at yourself, at the chubby tummy and thick thighs that Atsumu loved to use as a pillow for his naps.
“How long would it take me to talk you out of it?”
“My funeral.”
And so you sighed. “Fine.”
As you put some distance between you and him for a good running start you bumped into a few people and thought more and more about what an incredibly stupid idea this was. But then you saw your boyfriend roll his shoulders and widen his stance, so very ready to catch you.
“Don’t be scared, baby! I got ya!”, he called and unfortunately pulled several surrounding eyes onto you.
When you finally ran at him and jumped, you closed your eyes waiting for him to tip over but your man stood strong. Not even a wobble in sight. You clutched at his biceps, still sweaty from the game, and squinted at him hesitantly.
A wide cocky grin was spread across his face and he adjusted his grip on you.
“Told ya I gotcha.”
some nerds in love, anybody?
You call Eddie Jupiter - the planet, not the god - and depending on who asks him why exactly that is, he either answers 'None of your business,' or 'Because I'm massive' with a stupidly smug grin that is so incredibly stupidly smug because it's not even a lie albeit not all of the story.
Jupiter spins faster than any other planet in our solar system and so does Eddie's mind, manifesting in ever-tapping feet and fingers and the quickest mouth around.
Jupiter has many, many moons most of them small; like his Hellfire kids. What started out as collecting strays in High School has now become a project hosted by the local youth club and you have long lost count over how many kids orbit him on the regular. And then there are the big moons: Ganymede (Jeff), Io (Erica), Europa (Ronnie) and Callisto (Gareth, who's also amazing on guitar, as it turns out)
Jupiter has Rings. Fainter than those of Saturn but Eddie's ring collection changes from big, loud and clunky to... less big and... less clunky over the years.
Jupiter's magnetic field is the strongest in our solar system and you just can't fucking stay away from him... (It's not called Eddy Currents for nothing, right?) (Same goes for gravity, of course.)
Jupiter's days only last 10 hours and time fucking flies when you're with him, always seems to pass too fast.
"And Jupiter is fucking beautiful," you say and Eddie tries to hide the blush high on his cheeks by pressing a kiss to your temple. "There is more!"
"Hmmm, there is always more inside that head of yours," he cups your cheeks, presses two quick kisses to your lips and your foreheads together. "But I have to shut you up now... feel like crashing into the sun..."
azumane asahi’s hands were big, warm and heavy on your legs.
“stay still,” you mumbled and he shuddered at the caress of your breathing on his mouth. one hand of yours held his strong jaw, moving it when you had to, the other careful at gliding the blade across his skin.
asahi’s lips opened as if to speak, but you glanced at him sternly, freezing your hands, and his mouth closed again. his hands on your thighs squeezed for a second in response, half apology, half amusement, and you softened your gaze, “sorry, handsome, i don’t want to cut you.”
a hum escaped his throat, deep and rumbling in his chest, the muscles underneath your fingertips vibrating slightly at the oscillation of sound carried over.
you sank the blade in water to clean it once the strip above one side of his mouth was finished, and this time he didn’t hesitate to disrupt the shaving process. his hands rubbed the sides of your legs as his hips flushed closer to yours, “thank you for being so careful,” a huff of embarrassed relief escaped him, “i nick myself a lot.”
“wouldn’t that be funny for people to know?” you teased and tenderly gripped his chin, pulling down his upper lip to get the most space for the other side. his gentle eyes watched you as he let you contort his face however you wanted, putty underneath your fingertips, “this huge man looking like he’s gonna pummel everyone in his way, but can barely shave without hurting himself.”
the tips of asahi’s ears burned, but his hands gave your legs a squeeze at the taunt, and before you set the blade on his skin, your legs interlocked behind his hips to trap him. his eyes narrowed at your mischievousness, amused, slightly horny, but still obedient until you finished the other side of his upper lip, too.
he pressed into you, leaning you far back until you had to yelp in surprise and sling your arms around his neck (the sharp end of the knife very much pointed away from you both, thank you very much).
“maybe people will think it’s funny — “ he left the sentence hanging and sank his mouth down on yours, leaving the shaving foam all over your face, kissing you wild and intense, “ — how you shut up — “ another maddening devouring of your lips, “ — as soon as i’m all over you.”
leaving you breathless, forcing gasps through your mouth, foam wet on your cheeks and your chin, you blushed hard and asahi grinned sheepishly at the mess he left you both in, one hand of his coming to scratch the back of his head.
big fan of a good shit-eating grin. like a ruckus-causing, pot-stirring type of grin. a smile that truly fucks around and finds out. anyway
“Babe, have you - oh no.”
Your boyfriend Daichi stopped in his tracks when he saw you sobbing into a tissue on the couch, wrapped practically airtight in a thick fluffy blanket with only the cable from your heating pad sticking out.
On the TV a chubby seal pup was calling its mother that apparently fell prey to an orca just a few seconds earlier.
He sighed and came to stand in front of you, hands on his hips to block the screen.
“What did we say?”
You shrunk into your blanket, looking up at him with big tear-filled eyes.
“No nature documentaries when I’m on my period?”
“Then why are you doing this to yourself? This is gonna be the seahorse thing from last month all over again.”
At the mention of your previous trauma, a new wave of tears rolled down your cheeks.
“It got carried too far in the current! It was all alone!”
“And what did you make me do?”
“Hold my hand in the supermarket so you wouldn’t lose me?”
“And why was that not a good idea?”
You took a deep breath and tried to recount the gentle scolding you received afterward, “Because to safely push a cart you need two hands.”
“And?”
“And I made you swerve into a display of tomato sauce.”
“So in conclusion?”, he raised an expectant brow.
You picked up the remote and turned on a different movie.
“Thank you.”, he said and leaned down to kiss the top of your head, “I ordered take-out for dinner. Now, move over.”
You scooted a bit to the left so he could sit down next to you and pull you into his arms for comfort, large warm hand slipping into the blanket cocoon gently rubbing your soft aching tummy.
a/n: this might be the silliest one yet
between you and your husband, you were the one more…vocal about your love for him. leaving him sweet notes with doodles of the two of you in his lunch, ending all heartfelt messages with x’s, planting a big kiss on his cheek that he pretended to cringe at but in reality he looked forward to it everytime he left the house.
people would always come up to you, telling you that he doesn’t reciprocate his love with words and such and asking you how you dealt with it. truth be told it took a while for you to get used to but soon enough you began to see the signs.
it was the way that every time he got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom he would tuck your feet back into bed. the way he spent a solid twenty minutes cleaning your phone screen, and with furrowed brows as he placed your new screen protector on, making sure there were no bubbles. it was when you opened his wallet that you saw all the notes you wrote him saved in one pocket of his shitty leather wallet that was begging to be put to rest. it's the way when you come home after a long night out with your friends he takes his time undressing you, removing and placing your jewelry carefully on your bedside table and making sure to gently take off your makeup and of course do your skincare routine that he has memeorized. when he goes out and he spots a little something with your favorite character on it he buys it immediately, not bothering to look at the price tag because the way your eyes would light up when he brought home the little gift was worth more than a billion dollars to him.
it was when on your third month anniversary when the two of you were still dating, while the two of you sat down on the booth next to each other at a restaurant he held your hand and squeezed it three times. signifying the words, i love you. he knew he loved you from the start but was scared it was too soon to say it and this was his silent way of telling you so. and you picked up on it quickly when he started to do it more often.
and on your wedding day, as the two of you stand in front of all your loved ones and the officiator he says the most beautiful vows ever, telling you that "if death do us part then i hope to find you in every lifetime" and once he ended with that sentence, he squeezed your hand three times. i. love. you.
you always knew your husband loved you because his actions spoke a thousand words to you.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜
sigh. TSUKISHIMA FREAKING KEI!!!!!!!!, akaashi keiji (he writes notes back to you), KITA. SHINSUKE., iwaizumi hajime (30) athletic trainer, suna rintarou, USHIJIMA, kageyama tobio (squeezed your hand a lot when you started dating), MIYA OSAMU, sakusa kiyoomi, OH OH OH AONE!!,
Tobio Kageyama
Words of Affirmation
Then
"You look... nice." Tobio's slowly trail down your form. His cheeks are pink, but his tone is harsh, almost... like a question?
"Thank you?" You ask back, slipping out of your shoes. "I've bought new trousers. It's hard to find good ones, most of them make my ass look fat."
"It is fat," Tobio points out, almost going cross-eyed as he tries to look both at you and your behind at the same time. "It's nice."
You stop, one hand in your purse, and stare at him.
"Tobio?"
"Yes?"
"Are you trying to flirt?"
He jerks his face away, but you've seen enough of the nervous blush covering every spare inch of his usually pale skin.
"Forget about it!" He barks as he stomps off, your giggling the only sound in the empty hallway.
-
Now
"Oh," Tobio grabs your belly with both hands and kneads it like it's dough. "You put on some weight."
You groan and laugh at the same time. It tickles, after all. "Why do you have to point it out all the time?"
"Because you're so soft and I love you?" He reluctantly lets go of you when you shimmy your hips around and offers you the pair of jeans you'd tried to slip in minutes ago. "I'll buy you new ones if these don't fit anymore, you know?"
"That's not the point," you argue, struggling with the button at the top. "I like these pants."
"I like your belly more," Tobio slides his hand below the waistband of your pants and tickles your skin. "Look how confined it is. It wants out."
You laugh at his silliness. "When did you get so good at flirting?" You ask, pulling him in for a kiss.
"I'm just speaking my mind," he points out. "You just happen to like it, I think. Hoshiumi said I sound like a moron when I'm talking to you."
"See? That's why Hoshiumi's still single."
-
Receiving Gifts
Then
"Tobio?" He freezes in the doorway. "Yes?"
"Did you leave something in my office?"
"Maybe?"
You hold up the package. "Is there a reason you bought me a sample package of lip balms?"
"You said you lose them all the time," he defends himself, shoulders pulled up to his ears. "So I bought you enough that you have one everywhere I go."
"That's really sweet of you," you look down at the present for half a second. "But a 48 piece pack?"
He panics, you can see it in his face, the widening of his pupils and the stiffness in his arms.
"Should I have bought more?"
-
Now
"Tobio?"
"Yes?" He dips his head out of the bathroom door, half of his face shaved, the other half covered in shaving cream. "You called?"
"There's a package on the kitchen table."
"Oh," he nods. "Just a little something I got you."
You eye him curiously before you open the package with a kitchen knife. Inside is something oddly shaped inside a few rolls of bubble wrap. By the time you finally take off the last layer, Tobio has slid up behind you, chin hooked over your shoulder, his left hand softly caressing your belly.
"It's a guy," you point out. "Sitting."
"It's not just any guy," Tobio points out. "This was handmade and designed by me. It was a hard decision, too, but I think we got it right in the end."
You lift the small figurine up to get a closer look. You know that black hair and those blue eyes, that frown on his face and the way he stretches.
"You designed me a figurine of yourself?"
"Yes," Tobio grins proudly. "Look," he takes the figurine from you and sets it next to the stove, pulls out a ladle and lets it rest on little Tobio's stretched out legs. "This guy makes kitchen helper figurines. Ushijima bought lots of stuff from him and I asked if he could model a figurine after me. This way, I'll always be helping you in the kitchen."
You're still struggling for words when he turns, insecurity slowly bleeding into his demeanour. "Did you want someone else? I thought of buying you the one that keeps the lid from closing, because you like giving me steam facials and it would have been funny, but that one was harder to model after me, so-"
"Tobio," you reach out and sling your arms around him, press your face against his shoulder. "I love it. Thank you."
He smiles, just a little one, but one that's true to himself. "Thank God. I already ordered a second one that looks like you. You're paying for it though, so it's your present to me."
-
Acts of Service
Then
Hurried steps follow you down the hallway. You turn, surprised to find Tobio running after you.
"Everything okay?"
"Yes," he pants, grabbing the bag hanging off your shoulder. "I said I'd help you carry it."
"Oh, but it's not that heavy."
"Not the point," he accidentally knocks his hip into yours as he moves, blushing to the tips of his ears as he does so. "Where are you headed?"
"To my car. Are you sure you wanna go outside right now? You're sweaty and it's cold out. I don't want you to get cold."
"I'll be fine. Can I carry anything else for you?"
"You know I'm not sick, right? Or unable to lift weights in any shape or form."
"Right," Tobio nods. "But I'm strong?" He phrases it like a question. "And I want to help you where I can."
You stare up at him, your heart beating a little out of the loop, sloshing around your chest as if waiting for new instructions.
"You don't need to help me," you insist once more, your voice a little weaker than before. "But thank you."
Tobio smiles and leads you out onto the parking lot, pulls you a little closer when you shiver in the cold.
He's out sick the rest of the week, but you don't think he minds it much.
Not when you're at his place every day before and after work, feeding him soup and measuring his temperature with a kiss against his forehead.
-
Now
You can hear the vacuum from where you're scrubbing the shower, the sound almost loud enough to drown out the audiobook in your ears.
You're old enough now to have your very own cleaning routine, but that doesn't mean you like doing it.
Half an hour later, the bathroom is clean and you put away the supplies before you walk out, all the while stretching your sore back.
The vacuum has been tucked away again, but you hear Tobio's voice from the kitchen, the way he struggles to pronounce the Italian words from his own audiobook.
"Ciao. Ciao." He jumps when you sneak up to him, curl your hands around his chest and press your face against his back.
"You're done yet?" You ask, leaning into him with all your weight.
"Almost," he huffs out laughing. "The oven is a mess."
"We can do it another day."
"No, I'm committed now."
"But I'm hungry," you whine. "And we can clean the stupid oven after we have Dinner."
"I already ordered food," Tobio argues. "Might as well get this done until it arrives. You can-"
"No," you insist, feeling stubborn. "Don't make me clean another thing."
"I wanted to offer a seat at the table where you can check my pronunciation, but if you have a better idea..."
"Table it is."
-
Quality time
Then
"And then you jump," Tobio explains, swallowing anxiously. "Did you get that?"
"Uhuh," you inspect your nails for a second, before deciding to speak. "Look, I like spending time with you, but do you really need to train today?"
Tobio falters. "No?" He asks. "Why?"
"Is there a reason why you brought me here for our date then?"
"Well," he fiddles with the ball in his hands, shy again. "I like spending time with you."
"Me too."
"And this is something I know," he explains, looking around the deserted gym. He doesn't need to explain that it makes him feel safe. You've seen it.
"Right," you nod, swallow against the knot in your throat. "How about we do something you know for an hour and then something I know next?"
Tobio nods, clearly relieved. "As long as I'm with you, I don't care what we're doing."
He blushes when you don't react, struck by the softness of his accidental confession. "Did I say something wrong?"
-
Now
Tobio drops like a stone into your lap and he groans so loudly you almost miss the conversation on TV.
"Long day?"
"No," he pouts, "but I missed you. Why do they let you go earlier when I have to stay in longer?"
"Because I'm not their star setter?" You ask, gently threading your hands through his hair. "Hungry?"
"Yeah," he huffs out a breath and closes his eyes. "But I wanna stay like this a little while longer. What are we watching?"
"Well, I was watching a rerun of Friends. You wanna join? Or we can put on a match."
"Friends is fine," he lifts one hand to circle your wrist, tugging it down just enough to press a kiss into the palm of your hand. "As long as I'm with you, I don't care what we're watching."
You coo at his softness and lean down to kiss the tip of his nose, only to tease him right after.
"I'll remember that the next time we're fighting over the remote."
-
Physical touch
Then
"You should go back inside," you insist, "It's freezing."
"It's fine," Tobio presses through chattering teeth, his sweaty jersey barely a shield against the cold. "It's not even that cold."
You look up at him, your bag over his shoulder, his arms crossed confidently in front of his chest.
"Do you like me, Tobio?" You ask, and even though it feels a little silly, given everything he's done and said, it still feels necessary to be voiced.
He swallows, blueberry eyes locked in on you, and then he nods.
"So much," he breathes out. "That I never know what to do with my hands when you're around. O-or what to say. You're the prettiest, smartest, nicest, coolest girl I've ever met and I know I'm just... me, but if there's anything I can do, anything, I will, I-"
"You could kiss me," you interrupt him, your heart beating in your throat, your fingertips, your toes. "If you want."
His lips are cold and his eyes are wide open, and you think, not for the first time, that there's an ocean of warmth hiding in these blue depths. He takes your hands in his, squeezes them one, two, three times and kisses you again, clumsy and eagerly, and so much in love.
And then he sneezes.
-
Now
"Morning," Tobio presses a kiss against your shoulderblade and sinks into you, his chest pressed against your back so that you can feel his heartbeat. "I need to go for a jog."
"Mhm," you make, half awake and already in love with him, the gentle way he wakes you every single day. "I'm not joining you."
"Shame," he leans in to kiss the shell of your ear, the soft skin behind it, the nape of your neck and the corner of your mouth.
"One more for the road?" He asks, sounding more awake than you ever could be at this early hour, and you turn your head a little so you can squint at him, can offer him all of your mouth and not just a corner.
Later, after you've fallen back asleep, he will kiss you again, taste like toothpaste and smell like aftershave, and you'll try your best to pull him back into bed, to fall back asleep in his arms. Rarely does it ever work. But he'll always stay a little while longer, just to touch you, just to breathe you in.
for @writingsofanomnivore
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❦ 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
❦ 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.
❦ TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF <3
ft. kita, ushijima, kuroo, tsukishima
PART 2 | PART 3
—kita
he always wakes up early. he’s got stuff to do ofc, but his number one priority is cuddling up to you in bed, breathing in your scent and then falling back asleep in your arms. he’s started to set his alarm 15 minutes earlier than normal just so he can be awake to appreciate your warm body next to his.
—ushijima
you have one designated spot, and one designated spot only. his lap. there are extra seats everywhere? doesn’t matter. you are his own personal weighted blanket, and the best excuse not to talk to anyone cause he’s literally hiding behind you. if he could, he would make the world just you and him, and volleyball.
—kuroo
he’s constantly pinching you and poking you and doing anything to get a reaction out of you because YOURE JUST SO FrEAKING CUTE. he can’t help it, his feelings are borderline aggressive because you just grip his heart in a choke hold and he needs to always be close to you and feel your soft skin and UGHHHH. might even bite your cheek like mochi.
—tsukishima
gives you the first bite of everything. he’s making himself a snack and you’re in the bedroom? man walks across the sahara just to give you the first bite of his food. it’s inconvenient to him, and he doesn’t even ask if you want it, he just holds it out on a spoon or chopsticks and waits for you to take the bite. ofc he’s gonna grumble but he just keeps doing it.
constellations ~ yamaguchi
characters: Yamaguchi x gn!Reader content:(sfw!) established relationship, pure fluff, soft kisses and blushy Yams, treating him like the princess he is word count: 362
Thinking about teaching Yamaguchi the constellations. Excitedly pulling up a map on your phone and pointing them out, taking care to point out Scorpio, his zodiac sign. He looks over them all with such awe and wonder as you go through them. After checking the forecast, you realize that it would be clear enough tonight for the both of you to go stargazing together. You'd just have to wait for the sun to set.
⊱ ─────── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─────── ⊰
You look over the constellations on Yamaguchi's cheeks, jokingly pointing them out. "Look, there's Cygnus... and here's Cepheus." You trace a soft finger across his skin, connecting the freckles to each other in replicas of the stars. A red heat blooms under each spot your finger drags along.
"Are you embarrassed?" You chuckle softly, cupping his warm cheeks, his whole face flushing your favorite shade of red.
"A-ah... no... maybe a little? But not in a bad way!" He looks up at you with a timid smile. His hands reach up, encircling your wrists as he nuzzles gently into the palms of your hand. "Please don't stop..."
You kiss over the heated skin, mumbling softly as you worked your way over his freckled cheeks, "Taurus, Volans, Pyxis." You recount the constellations. He lets out a deep, satisfied sigh, his brows slightly tented. Pulling back for a moment, you get a good look at the adorable blissed out expression he's wearing.
After several minutes of reciting the stars, you were running out of constellations to name. Unwilling to stop the little game you had going, you started making up your own constellations. Peppering sweet kisses over the flushed skin as you mumbled nonsensical names, Yamaguchi was none the wiser. He leaned into your touch, soaking in the soft affection.
"Didn't you want to stargaze tonight? The sun should be set by now..." He called softly, his eyes half lidded and full of affection. His cheeks were slightly squished in the palms of your hands. You press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, causing his eyes to flutter closed.
"They're all right in front of me... Why would I ever waste my time looking at the sky?"
INUMAKI TOGE HCS
I miss him and I love him
his love language is touch and quality time
A cuddle bug
KISSES. Pecks, longer kisses, lazy ones. He loves them all
Loves holding hands, especially if cold -> holding hands and resting them in either yours of his coat pocket together 😗
Probably plays the sims and has a whole life with you two on there
Dates consists of going out and enjoying each other’s hobbies together. From arcades, museums, painting studios, anything really.
Loves to listen. Yap, yap and yap some more his eyes will still have little hearts in them
(canon) but he is literally described as such a gentle and pure soul. Nothing, I had to add it
He loves to gift you flowers. From handpicked ones to the ones from a flower shop
Big spoon, but sometimes he likes to switch
GOSSIPER
A bit insecure. He knows he is kind. He knows he has a lot to offer. But he can’t shake the feeling at times that anyone, friend or lover, could leave him behind because of his lack of speech. He tries his best in making up for the lack of words with big gestures, affection and more but sometimes he just feels it’s not enough.
he is a prankster
Literally a walking menace. He would be tearing everyone down to filth if not held back by the curse speech
His face it’s extremely expressive -> if someone says something “stupid” he truly can’t hide his distain
A music lover
ASMR lover, especially the soft spoken ones/gloves noise
Spicy food enthusiast
Knows how to cook, not stellar level, but can still wipe out some good stuff
A dinosaurs kid
Fan of legos
Will insist he is a marvel fan and shit on DC but secretly likes DC more
Loves hoodies
Wire headphones
Manga and comic reader + anime watcher
Movies over series
The type to catch a bug and chase the person who’s scared of bugs around with it
Because of his quietness people believe he is shy/introverted. Quite the opposite. He just likes his time alone, but loves being surrounded by his friends.
Reaction pictures in texts overuse
Cries when he is mad
Is overall, a sunshine of a person and I won’t accept any criticism about it.
Hi! Could I request an Eddie X reader? Maybe something where he is playing with readers hair for the first time and learns that’s what puts reader to sleep really quickly?
Omg stop this is too cute. No warnings, just fluff ahead.
You had been at Eddie’s trailer for a few hours now, the both of you doing your own thing—him messing with his guitar, you flipping through an old magazine on his bed. It was comfortable, familiar. The kind of silence that didn’t need filling.
But then Eddie sighed dramatically, flopping onto the bed beside you, making the mattress bounce. “Babe, I’m bored.”
You raised a brow but didn’t look up from your page. “And that’s my problem because…?”
He let out a scoff, propping himself up on one elbow to stare at you like you’d just offended him. “Because you’re my girlfriend, and it is, in fact, your duty to entertain me.”
That made you roll your eyes, flipping another page just to be annoying. “I don’t remember signing up for that.”
Eddie gasped, pressing a hand over his chest. “Heartbreaking. Betrayal. I might not recover from this.” He let himself collapse fully onto the bed with an exaggerated groan. “At least let me hold you while I suffer.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “That sounds like a you problem, Munson.”
Eddie turned his head to look at you, his brown eyes soft but playful. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he coaxed, reaching for your arm, giving it a light tug. “Just for a little while.”
The thing was—you wanted to. You weren’t the most openly affectionate person, but there was something about Eddie that made you let your guard down. And right now, his warmth was ridiculously inviting.
So with a sigh that you exaggerated just to be difficult, you finally set the magazine aside and shifted closer, letting him pull you into his arms.
Eddie grinned victoriously, tucking you against his chest, his arms looping around you like he’d been waiting all day for this. “See? Much better.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight your own smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But I’m your ridiculous,” he pointed out, resting his chin on top of your head.
You huffed, but your body had already melted into his. He was warm, solid, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing in a way you hadn’t expected. His fingers traced absent patterns along your back, and before you knew it, your eyes were growing heavier.
Eddie must’ve noticed because he chuckled, voice softer now. “Getting sleepy on me already?”
You wanted to argue, but you were too comfortable, too warm. You made a small noise in response, which only made him laugh again.
“Damn. I really am that good, huh?”
You elbowed him lightly, but he just pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Eddie wasn’t sure when he’d started doing it, but his fingers had absentmindedly found their way into your hair, twisting a strand around before dragging his fingertips through the length of it. And when he started doing that? There was nothing that could've stopped you from passing out.
It was a good few minutes of you being silent before Eddie glanced down, a smirk tugging at his lips when he realized why.
“Are you serious right now?” he muttered, but there was no bite to it. Just pure amusement.
Your head had lolled slightly to the side, your eyes shut, breath steady. You were out.
Eddie let out a soft laugh, his fingers pausing for a second before running gently through your hair again, testing the theory. Sure enough, you let out a barely-there hum and nestled closer, completely dead to the world.
“Well, that’s interesting,” he mused to himself. “Noted. Superpower unlocked.”
He could use this. Tuck it away for the next time you were stressed out of your mind over school or overthinking everything, which—let’s be real—happened a lot.
Eddie shook his head, grinning, still absentmindedly playing with your hair.
“Guess I’m stuck here now,” he muttered. “You owe me one, sleepyhead.”
Not that he minded.
Eddie adjusted slightly, careful not to jostle you too much, but his arms stayed firmly around you. If he was being honest, he kind of loved this—having you curled up against him, completely comfortable, like he was your safe place. Not that he’d ever say that out loud, at least not in a way that would make you roll your eyes at him.
The trailer was quiet aside from the occasional creak of the walls and the distant hum of the TV from the living room. Wayne must’ve gotten home at some point, but he hadn’t come knocking. He never did when you were here.
Eddie figured he should probably wake you up soon, maybe tease you about how easily you crashed, but instead, he just stayed put, his fingers still tracing slow, mindless patterns along your back.
Then, as if proving you were fully out, a soft sigh left your lips, followed by a barely audible murmur.
Eddie stilled, blinking down at you. “What was that?” he whispered, his grin widening.
Silence.
But then you did it again—something too quiet for him to catch entirely, but your lips moved slightly against his chest.
Eddie bit back a laugh, knowing he should just let you sleep, but… come on. This was golden.
Gently, he shifted his arm, nudging you just enough to see if you’d react.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice dripping with amusement. “You talkin’ in your sleep now?”
You didn’t answer, obviously, but when he leaned down a little, resting his cheek against the top of your head, he could hear your breathing shift—like some part of you knew he was talking to you, even in your sleep.
Eddie smirked. “Lemme guess. You were dreaming about me.”
Still nothing.
“You were probably telling me how madly in love with me you are, huh?”
There was a beat of silence, and then, in the softest, sleepiest voice, you mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Shut up, Munson.”
Eddie grinned so wide it almost hurt. “Busted,” he murmured. “You totally were.”
But he didn’t push it. Instead, he pressed another lazy kiss to your forehead and let his own eyes drift shut.
Yeah, he was definitely stuck here for a while.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
You find out early on in your relationship with Kuroo that sharing a bed with him can be stressful. When he strutted into the bathroom only wearing a pair of boxers that left little to the imagination, you were already overcome by nerves. You two hadn't had sex yet, and you were still flustered over the fact that this fine ass man was all yours. Of course Kuroo being the cocky guy he is ended up teasing you for staring, causing you to turn over to hide your blushed face. He wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and you get even more flustered. After you get used to the feeling of him nuzzled behind you, you start to fall asleep. You are rudely interrupted by one of the loudest snores you ever heard. You honestly think that he might be doing it on purpose to get you to finally pay attention to him again, but when you glance over your shoulder you can clearly see that he is fast asleep. You turn your head back over and try to bury your head into the pillows to muffle the noise, but you can still hear him somehow. After a few minutes it starts to die down a little, and you gladly fall back asleep. When you wake up to Kuroo's head still nestled into your neck, and his arms wrapped around your waist you feel like it definitely makes up for the snoring.( but you wouldn't be opposed to getting him breathing strips )
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.
"I love you."
Sukuna frowned, cracking an eye open to stare at you. You were laying next to him with a tender smile on your face.
He grunted and turned away from you. "Stop uttering nonsense and go to sleep, woman."
You sighed. "Love, it wouldn't hurt for you to say it back for once."
He snorted. "And what is the point of me saying it when I've already established it quite clearly that you belong to me and no one else? What will I gain from uttering those words? Nothing. Now go to sleep."
You frowned, staring at your husband's broad back with a glare before you smiled and scooted closer.
"'kuna?"
"What now?"
"You, too, belong to me and no one else, right?"
"..."
Silence.
A slight shift of his large frame.
"Yes."
You grinned and rested your forehead against his back.
Close enough.
╰ . ୭ ┆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 ˚. ᵎᵎ
every time you painted your nails you would notice eddie's attention would waver over from whatever it was he was doing.
not only did he think it was cool, the way you created cute little pictures on the end of your fingers, but he also loved the sight of you doing it. you'd adorn nothing but one of his old shirts over your underwear so to not spill anything on yourself as you sat on his bed, your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth ever so slightly as you retained your focus. and he wouldn't say anything, but he relished in it.
he would edge himself closer to you on the bed, his body encapsulating you, as you brushed the varnish across your nails with intricate detailing and attention. but today, specifically, he seemed a little more than intrigued by what you were doing than he had been any other day. "do you wanna help me?" you offer him the brush in your hand and he perks up a little. those beautiful big brown eyes of his upturning as they light up. "really?" he asks and you nod.
he takes your hand in his, his fingers soft against the palm of your hand, and as slow and steady as he can he swipes the colour down your nails. with each completed finger he becomes more and more proud of himself, and once done, he beams with a smile before it falters. it's only a split second but it's enough for you to see it. his eyes meet yours for a moment and his lips quirk up into an embarrassed smile. "will you... do mine?"
within an instant you're laying out your nail polish for him and the embarrassment dissipates as he chooses his colours carefully. he eventually plucks a mahogany coloured bottle and a black one, asking if you could do your little patterns across his fingers and you do. watching his excitement grow with each finger until he's almost bursting at the seams.
"what do you think?" you ask once you're done and he holds his hands out in front of him to really take in the sight.
“i love them… thank you," he beams, his expression changing into adoration, before peppering sweet kisses all over your face.
Eddie munson, the ugly sleeper, sleeps twisted up like hes fallen down the stairs and broken every limb on the way down, buttcheek hanging out, crunchy eyes, hair ALL OVER THE PLACE, so much drool but yet his mouth is so dry??
Is asleep on top of you or has his -dead weight- arm slung over your neck like an iron bar.
Steals all the covers but kicks them off so they end up wrapped around the bottom of his legs so tightly you cant steal it back. Nostrils breathing out breath so hot its like someone punctured a hole in a steam pipe. Looks like he rolled out of a bin with a banana skin on him. Hes much like sharing a bed with a very large dog who thinks theyre a princess but no one else sees them that way when they have a tongue in their eye or balls on their face
He used to sleep with his eyes open, Wayne would have to tape his eyes shut as a kid so they didnt dry out. Scared the living shit out of him the first time he saw it and creeped him out every time he had to peel his eyelids down
He also has/had a habit of sleeping face down, ass up. Wayne is so scared he is gonna suffocate
Occasionally he sleeps so still, Wayne has to poke him to make sure hes not dead
Definitely a sleepwalker or a sleep talker growing up
contently lip smacks in the morning from his deep tasty nap.
teenage dirtbag, baby
Hello! I was wondering if it would be possible to write about Eddie coming over and you have cooked a big meal for the two of you and Eddie has never seen this much food. Used to a frozen meal or Mac and cheese, he is kind of scared to overindulge even though the food is mouth watering. Reader just wants to take care of him.
Eddie's stunned when you make dinner for him, and even moreso when it's the best thing he's ever tasted — eddie x reader fluff
warnings: ig just food and talks of Eddie's social status/living situation
words: 1.2k
Your multitasking skills were finally coming in handy for something important tonight.
Tonight’s menu consisted of a main dish, sides, and dessert that you were making completely from scratch. And on top of all that cooking, you kept looking at the clock every two minutes to make sure you’re on track for when Eddie said he was coming over.
Eddie Munson had never been a punctual person. He shows up late to class every day—which is part of the reason why he’s in his third senior year of high school—and all of his friends know to tell him to come at least a half hour earlier than everyone else because that’s the only way they can guarantee he’ll be there when they want.
But he’s always on time for you. Whenever you have a date, he shows up exactly when he says he will. And when he’s even a few minutes late, he apologizes profusely until you promise that you’re not upset with him.
You know he’ll be here at exactly seven o’clock, and it was almost time.
Each tick of the clock reminding you that your boyfriend was on his way and you weren’t going to have dinner ready on time.
You tried your best to rush the process, but the knock at the door caught you by surprise before you could fully finish cooking.
You jogged over to the front door to let Eddie inside—even though you’ve told him before that he could let himself in—and you were met with his smiling face.
He immediately snaked his arms around your figure and pulled you in for a kiss like he was a sailor coming back from a long voyage at sea.
As much as you loved when he kissed you like this—and he did it quite a bit—you had to break apart because you had pasta on the stove that you were absolutely not going to let burn.
“I’m almost done cooking dinner.” You told him as you jogged back to the kitchen.
“I thought you liked me.” Eddie says dramatically, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside. “Such a shame. I guess I’ll just go home.”
“This food took so much work. If you leave before trying it, I think I’ll cry.”
“Well we can’t have that, now can we?”
Eddie waltzed over to where you were standing in the kitchen and leaned against your fridge, eyeing up both you and the food you were preparing.
“What did you make?”
“Eddie, do you have any patience at all?”
Your boyfriend shook his head, barely taking any time to think of his answer. “Little to none.”
Right after saying that, he started reaching for the covered desserts that you had placed beside the stove.
“Yeah, I can see that.” You said while swatting his hand away and shooting him a joking glare. “Go sit at the table and wait until I’m done cooking.”
He sent you a flirty smirk before obeying what you asked of him.
“Yes ma’am.”
As you plated up dinner, you and Eddie exchanged a bit of small talk since the both of you were trying to focus. You on dinner, and Eddie on how good you looked wearing that floral apron that was hanging from your waist.
When you loaded plates and bowls onto the table, Eddie’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He couldn’t believe how much food you had prepared. It looked so colourful and smelled so damn good too.
You hung your apron on the handle of the oven door and sat down across from Eddie. Noticing that he looked somewhat stunned and hadn’t yet taken a bite, you explained the dish like the chefs you had seen on TV.
“It’s a creamy tuscan chicken. I found the recipe in a magazine.” You then pointed at the side dishes you made to go with it. “And then I made some rice pilaf and roasted vegetables to go with it. I know you don’t love vegetables but I added a balsamic glaze so it’s not so plain.”
He wanted to speak up. He wanted to thank you and tell you how excited he was to dig in. But he was still just so shocked.
Eddie had never seen this much food at once in his life. Especially not home-cooked food, and especially not on just a normal night. Neither Eddie nor his uncle Wayne had ever been good at cooking, and even if they were, their small trailer didn’t allow much room for food preparation.
He was just stunned. No other word for it. Eddie saw all this food in front of him, but still couldn’t believe it was real. Or that his girlfriend made it for him for date night. He had to be dreaming, he was sure of it.
“Is everything alright?” You asked him, suddenly insecure about your work.
“No! Wait, no, I mean ‘yeah’!” Eddie stumbled over his words, only now processing that you were across the table and waiting for him to say something. “It looks good, really good. Amazing actually.”
“It’s not too much? Or something you don’t like?” You asked, still unsure. “Because I could just pack it up for meals throughout the week and we could order a pizza or something?”
“No, it’s not that!” Eddie picked up his fork and eagerly scooped up some rice to prove he wanted the food. “There’s just so much, I wasn’t expecting all of this.”
“I made dessert too, brownies and chocolate chip cookies.” You said, pointing to the dish your boyfriend tried grabbing earlier.
Eddie’s eyes widened, realizing that there was even more than what he was seeing. He didn’t believe you when you said you spent the whole day cooking—why would he? If a delicious pizza could be at his door in 30 minutes or less, how could anything good take longer than that?—but now he knew you were telling the truth.
And now his mind was going a mile a minute trying to process everything.
“Well now I feel like shit.” He said jokingly.
“Why?”
“Look at this whole thing. Jesus, last week when I cooked for you, I made a can of Spaghettios!”
“Well I liked that!” You told him, trying to clear his guilt. “I just wanted to do something special tonight and use what I know. I’m sorry it made you feel bad.”
“No, no, I was kidding about that, baby. It’s great, don’t worry.”
You smiled at him, happy that he was excited about the dinner.
“Okay.” You nodded. “Are you gonna try it, then?”
Without another word, he took a piece of the chicken and brought it to his lips. The second it touched his tongue, he felt like he had just eaten something made by Julia Child herself—and Eddie noted to himself that he should pull out that impression later.
It was easy to tell the emotions on Eddie’s face as he took that bite. So, satisfied with his reaction and proud of yourself, you started to eat too.
With every bite Eddie took, he thought about marrying you just so he could eat like this more often.
MATCHING — KEI TSUKISHIMA. gender neutral reader, fluff, no warnings.
i wrote this lowkey on a whim and realized such cute things while writing it. thank you furudate for making such fun characters to analyze. happy valentines!
though he wont admit it, kei tsukishima likes enjoying and understanding the same things as the people he cares about. though he’s grown to act all nonchalant, inside he’s an affectionate loser who actually cares a lot.
he only acts so distant to seem cool, (or cause he’s developed trust issues) but honestly all it takes is some time for him to really let loose around someone. pester him enough, and he might miss you.
“hey, look at this” he calls over to you, making you shift your gaze away from the stationary you were looking at. once fully turned, you see his hands holding onto two matching keychains.
you quirk an eyebrow, ready to tease. “keychains huh? you wanna match or something? it’d be cute, considering you have matching bags with yamaguchi… why not match something with me too?” you smile, talking as you get ahold of one of the keychains.
“sure” he replies flat. “and i know you like this animal so… i think that’s an extra point”
you blink, not even realizing that what he grabbed is in fact a cute keychain of your favorite animal. it’s furry and soft against your fingers, making you more endeared towards it. “damn, i didn’t even notice that. you actually remember?”
he scoffs, almost offended. “yeah? you think i wouldn’t? i’m your boyfriend”
you roll your eyes. “okay true… but i didn’t think information like this would matter that much. but i’m super flattered th—”
“if you don’t stop yapping i’m just gonna go buy these. find me when you’re done” he says before swiftly grabbing the keychain from your hand and walking to your opposite side.
you let out a yelp. “hey wait— what!? come back i never said you could pay for both of us!”
Thinking about curling up in bed with your boy after a long day and he just squishes his face to your chest and sighs, knowing you’re the only thing he looks forward to on his way home 🚬
what comes from his mouth might as well be a foggy detection of echolocation to any other person, but luckily, it’s just your boyfriend. he’s got his cheek pressed against the fabric of your tshirt, eyes shut, bleached hair falling in messy tufts over the both of you. he does it again. “mmmphh.”
“KENMA,” you breathe, holding in a laugh to refrain from scaring him off. “I can’t understand a thing you’re saying.”
he lifts his face from your ribs, finally, staring up at you almost boredly. there’s a twitch to his brows that gives him away, a slight crease that whispers of his annoyance in the subtlest of ways. his narrowed eyes meet yours. “you find this funny.”
you’re half sputtering and half grinning by the time he’s finished his sentence, the knowledge that although he was correct it was in the most incorrect form of perception something that you couldn’t express. yes, it was funny, but not in the har-har, get a load of this guy way. it was in a look at my avoidant grump curled up on my chest like a needy cat, I should take a picture to remember this way. now that you thought of it, your eyes flickered to your phone on the side table.
“don’t.”
you huff.
“so you laugh in my face and expect me to let you exploit me as well?” he asks, almost playful interrogation flowing from him like honey. he could be a little sweeter if he really wanted it to apply, but you couldn’t ask for more. not when he was like this.
you brush a stray piece of hair from his face, not missing the way his expression softens at the ghost of touch. “not laughin’ at you. you’re just cute like this is all.”
the passive expression melts into pure embarrassment, and soon enough his face is a magnificent shade of pink before its being nuzzled into you again. “don’t say things like that.”
“but it’s true?” he can hear the smirk in your tone without raising his gaze.
his voice is muffled once again as he responds, “don’t care.”
“seems like you do.” you drawl, voice oddly sing-song in the quiet of the evening.
“shut up.”
a/n: missing reya hours.
End of canon part 5 headcanon
Whenever Mista starts thinking about how he can no longer talk to Narancia he will just send him a text message. Maybe a photo or a joke or something stupid that happened that day. Maybe even a “I miss you loser”. And it helps because well sometimes you send a text and don’t get a response right away, since Narancia isn’t responding he must be busy. He can trick his brain into thinking that everything’s ok, even though Narancia is always so quick to respond, this time he just so happens to be distracted.
And Abbacchio, he never responds to his text messages anyways. Unless it’s super important. So if he just texts Abbacchio stupid shit all is good. Abbacchio not gonna respond. He never did so why would he now? Abbacchios just ignoring him as usual.
And of course buccellatis not responding to his text messages, buccellatis more of a phone call kinda guy. Better to not have mission details typed out anywhere. As long as he doesn’t call him than this is normal behavior for bruno to not respond. And why would he want a response to a text saying “I’m sorry I caused your death” anyways? It was way too scary to send the text in the first place and getting a response would be even scarier. Bruno’s probably really upset with him for sending mission details over text again, which is why he isn’t responding. Giorno tried to explain that it’s not his fault but he’s not buying it. He’s not dead anyways. Just not responding.
He got to talk to them all today, his whole team. even though Narancia, Abbacchio, and Bruno were just over text. They haven’t responded but they got the text. The team is just like it used to be because he talked to all of them.
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/