So It’s Known Probably That I Headcanon Eddie As Autistic, And That He Was Nonverbal For The First

Mr. Scarletella Doodles with no context

And my sona, yeeeahhh... i really fall for him 🙏💀 So, funny heh

all your stuffed animals love you. they're not sad if they're in a box, or on the floor, or not held/played with as much. they understand. they know that you might need another stuffie more, or that you don't have enough space. they're just happy to be with you, and if you ever give them away, they'll be happy there too. stuffies are for comfort. they understand. they love you too. it's okay.

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.

𝔼𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕖 𝕄𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕠𝕟: 𝔽𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝔸𝕝𝕡𝕙𝕒𝕓𝕖𝕥

day 04: Eddie

featuring Eddie Munson x reader (no assumed gender)

rating: general

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

wc: 1.6k

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

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

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

𝔹𝕖𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕪 :: What does Eddie admire about his partner?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤 :: Is Eddie a good kisser?

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

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

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

𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕘𝕖 :: Would Eddie want to marry his partner?

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

ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕤 :: What does Eddie call his partner?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ℝ𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 :: How romantic is Eddie?

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

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

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

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

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

𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: How well does Eddie know his partner?

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

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

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

𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕕 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕕 :: A random fluffy headcanon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Idk if your requests are open rn but i have a binge eating disorder / i eat when im stressed or depressed and was wondering if you could write a fic of eddie supporting the reader through that

You dont have to write the ED part but maybe eddie just being supportive and proud of me because (excluding multiple relapses) ive been trying to make meal plans and eat healthy n learn about balanced diets (no one taught me how to eat healthy growing up so im doing this blind)

But I lost 28 lbs (2 stone)! Im also planning on going to the gym more and getting a routine to gain muscle so maybe eddie gets all blushy because im getting stronk 💪💪😏

my requests aren't open but i'm a people pleaser who can't seem to say no so here we go, i hope you like bb 🤍 ps: i'm super proud of you!! you're doing amazing and i wish you well on your recovery journey 🫂

warnings: fem!reader, reader struggles with food but no details, eating, fluff, eddie being the greatest bf with the dirtiest mind

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browsing through the aisles of the supermarket with eddie pushing the shopping cart while store music is playing faintly in the distance has became one of your favourite activities for your tuesday date night.

it’s more of a date day really.

“should we try this granola? it’s a berry mix.”

“oh yeah. the last one tasted like ashes.” eddie snorts then tosses it in the cart.

ever since you started meal planning, eddie’s made it a weekly tradition for the two of you to go grocery shopping. you told him that it’s fine, you can do it by yourself and his response was slapping a hand to his heart “you want to go grocery shopping..” dramatic gasp that could win him an oscar, “without me?” then he fell to the ground as if he died from your cruel betrayal.

your trips to the supermarket weren’t just for shopping. it was a whole event.

he makes the two of you smoothies from whatever fruit or veggies you had leftover in the fridge from your last shopping trip and he gets all dressed up in his fanciest grey tracksuit pants and band tshirt.

after you’ve gathered everything you needed from the list, and some other stuff you definitely didn’t need but eddie insisted otherwise like the energy drinks that supposedly taste like guava fruit, he doesn’t even know what guava is, and a whole coconut which he outrightly refused to tell you what he’s gonna use it for or if he even knows how to crack it open. we need a coconut, that was his simple explanation when he put it in the shopping cart.

you then went to a small ice cream place that the two of you found a few weeks ago while walking back from your hike. you’ve been loyal customers since, frequenting it every week, you’ve even met the manger, a sweet lady in her late 50’s, eddie asked her if having her own ice cream shop was a cream come true then told her she’s his ice queen before he asked her to sign an empty ice cream cup. it still sits on your counter.

sitting at your usual table by the window, you order the same ice cream as you always does which perplexes eddie who’s going through the entire menu one visit at a time. he thinks it’s insane that you have a favourite ice cream when you haven’t tried everything. "what if your favourite ice cream is the one you haven’t even tried yet? what if you’ll never try it because you always get the same thing?" he says every time as if he doesn’t know that you’ll eat from his so you are trying new things.

“baby?”

“hmm?”

“i almost popped a boner when we were in the bread section.” he says nonchalantly through his mouthful of ice cream.

“eddie!” you glare at him and look around making sure nobody heard and sigh of relief when you see everyone is busy in their own conversations and desserts.

“what? a man can’t make a cone-fession anymore?” he smirks, making you roll your eyes. “i’m serious though, when i saw you bend over and lift these two rice bags at the same time..” he whistles, “your ass looked so good i nearly creamed my pants and seeing you hold that baguette was my last straw.”

you scowl at his again and he mockingly gives you the same look back as if saying what?!, “i’m just saying.. you’re getting really strong and it’s hot.” he says genuinely, “your muscles baby.. offf”

despite his silliness, you can’t help the smile on your face, you’ve been working really hard to get your body to the shape and strength it has today and a lot of the times you feel like your efforts are so miminal they’ve gone unnoticed but he noticed. he always notices, “eat your ice cream before it melts.”

“i’m proud of you.” he says, one of his hands reaching towards yours and engulfing it, “truly proud of you sweetheart. you’ve been doing really good and you’ve come so far.”

“i’ve relapsed multiple times.” you say in a hushed tone, the mean voices in your head trying to downplay your progress but eddie won’t let that happen.

“and you’ve bounced back every time!” he uttered in protest. “that’s determination baby, that’s strength.” his thumb moves back and forth on your knuckles soothingly. “you’re choosing to get better every time despite the relapses and that’s what matters.”

he brings your hand to his lips and places a tender kiss on it, “choosing is the hardest part and each time you relapsed, you chose to recover again and i’m proud of you more every time you make that choice.” his smile is sincere and it makes your heart flutter.

hearing him acknowledge, appreciate and encourage you like that keeps you going. he’s been with you through every step of this journey and you know he’ll stay with you. “you’re making me get all soft.”

he chuckles, amused. “see! the puns just make themselves.”

you laugh, “i love you teddy, thank you for sticking with me through this.”

“of course i’ll stick with you, we’re mint to be together.” he smiles devilishly and feeds you a spoonful of his ice cream. “i love you waffle lot sweetheart.” he watches you eat it and his heart beats with pure admiration for you. “hey you’ve got a little something..” he points at his lips then pushes your hand away when you try to wipe your own, “no no let me.” he gets up to get his lips on yours, kissing you ever so gently, letting his tongue brush over your upper then your lower lip before he pulls away.

“there wasn’t anything, was there?”

“nope just wanted to kiss you.”

softie.

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tags: @hazzaismyreligion @fantastic-fox @sugarheart-riot @phyllosilicate-s @becca-alexa @quinnsfae14 @munson-enthusiast @lovinvane @ficsbypix @josephfakingquinn @munsonluvrr @eddies-puppet @mattyhealyssideburn @flawiette @joeydoeeyes @ho-for-joequinn-fics @etherealxwitch @cozmiccass @witchwolflea @musicmoviestv @andrearose89 @ethereal-eddie86 @bloodthirstybreedingbunny @miss-mouse99 @isthlsfate

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.

Hey sweetheart! You take requests at the moment? I'm currently healing from surgery (ow) and I just want some fluffy Eddie fussing over me/reader

One fluffy blurb, coming right up! I hope you get well soon 🥰

Warnings: Reader is recovering from surgery, mention of prescribed medication, mention of spicy activities, Eddie is a big ol' mush of a boyfriend

WC: 750

--

The sound of a handbell clanging has Eddie up from the sofa in a heartbeat. He’s learned your communication system over the last few days: one ring means you want some company, two means you’re hungry or need to use the bathroom, and three indicates an emergency. 

This was a three-ring. 

“Sweetheart?” There’s no camouflaging the alarm in his voice as he pushes into the bedroom. He finds you propped up against the pillows, book in hand. “What’s the matter? Are you dizzy again?”

You shake your head. “Could you get me a snack?” The doctor advised against taking the pain medication on an empty stomach, and you had no intention of breaking that rule. “Maybe some pretzels? Or a slice of toast with jelly?”

Eddie’s shoulders sag with relief. “You rang the bell three times,” he explains, soft irritation clipping his words. “I thought something was wrong.”

Glancing at the bell tucked against your thigh, you frown. “No, I only rang it twice. Or, wait…shit, I did ring it three times.” You exhale, sliding your bookmark between the pages and offering an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“S’okay.” He plops down onto the bed, careful not to jostle your elevated leg. “Just…give me a sec to get my heartrate back down to normal.” Hand to his chest, he takes deep, exaggerated breaths that have you giggling. 

“I mean, I could find something urgent,” you tease. “Maybe I’ll try walking without the crutches, or I can take out my stitches…”

Eddie’s nose wrinkles in a combination of disbelief and disgust. “Bullshit,” he counters. 

“Bullshit?”

“Bull. Shit.” He grins, gently poking your bicep. “You got all queasy that time you had to pull out a splinter, and you expect me to believe you can remove your own stitches?”

You let out a defeated groan. “Ugh, fine.” He knows you too well, and you love him for it. 

He gives you a triumphant kiss on the cheek and starts towards the kitchen. “Anything else the fair maiden needs while I’m up? More water? Ginger ale? Perhaps some champagne and caviar?” His eyes light up mischievously at the last suggestion. 

“I’m not supposed to drink on these meds,” you quip, playing right into his charade. 

“We’ll take a raincheck on the champagne, then.”

You shift back slightly, wincing as pain shoots through your leg. The surgery hurt more than the injury, and part of you wishes you had just muddled through and hobbled around instead of getting it fixed. 

Eddie returns a few minutes later with toast that’s just the right shade of burnt and slathered in strawberry jelly. He has a glass of water in his other hand, though you hadn’t asked for any. 

He places both on the snack table he’s set up next to the bed before reaching over and grabbing the bell. He rings it one time, loud and purposeful. 

“Can I help you?”

Nodding, he sits down. “I’m bored and need someone to talk to.” He rests his head on his pillow and pouts. “Entertain me?”

“There’s not much going on here.” You shrug, scanning the room for a conversation topic. He’s been taking care of you nonstop, and surgery recovery doesn’t exactly make for riveting discussions. Your eyes land on a magazine. “I read some interesting articles in Cosmo, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie waggles his brows. “Anything spicy?”

You flip to an article that provides explicit details on giving the perfect blowjob and point to the page. “This one was pretty raunchy.”

He studies it just long enough to read the headline before tossing it aside. “You don’t need any help with that. Trust me.” He smirks knowingly. “You probably could’ve written that article yourself.”

“Good to know.” Exhaling, you look over at him. “You can go hang out with the guys if you want. Or they can come over here, as long as they’re not too loud.”

You expect him to jump at the offer; anything to cure his bout of boredom, but he declines. “Nah, I’m good right here.” He snatches up the magazine once more and thumbs through it. “Besides, I need to find out what color palette matches my skin tone.”

“Eddie—”

He cuts you off with his pointer finger. “Shhh. This is life-changing stuff, Sweetheart. I mean, what if I’m…an ‘autumn,’ but I’ve been wearing ‘winter’ this whole time?” His face contorts in mock horror. “Talk about tacky.” 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

You absolutely do. 

--

Simon never really thought about getting you pregnant—if he’s being honest. He never wanted a family, and you can blame his old man for that. Sure, he doesn’t always use protection, but he’s well aware of the damage the morning-after pill could do to your body, and he’d never want that for you.

You didn’t even tell him. He figured it out on his own. The trash was missing your usual pads, and you hadn’t been complaining about cramps. He’s scared.

He waited, hoping you’d realize it on your own. He doesn’t know what you want to do. If you want him to be a father, he’ll try. For you. You’d be the mother of his child, after all.

GEGE WHEN I CATCH YOU GEGE WHEN I FUCKING CATCH YOU-