If You Would Ever Sleep With Suguru Geto, He Would Be The First To Wake Up The Day After. He Would Enjoy

----------♡

Eddie is the type of boyfriend who attempts to teach you guitar but he's the one getting distracted.

You sit in the space between his legs at the edge of the bed with the tip of your tongue sticking out the tiniest bit between the pout of your lips. The crease in the middle of your brows deepens in concentration and Eddie just absolutely loves it. His eyes can't seem to find a spot to focus on, darting from your eyes and lips, keeping a particular focus on your tongue every once in a while.

His hands are braced against your thighs, rough fingers digging into the coarse fabric of your jeans -though he wishes he was touching the softness of your skin- and his nose moves to not so subtly dig into the juncture of your shoulder.

You take a second to look at him and God does it feel good for him to know that even just looking at him removes the frustration from your face and replaces it with a warming smile.

"Y'know, you're supposed to actually teach me something right?" Your smile turns into an almost devilish smirk and one of your brows cock up in a teasing manner.

Eddie only nuzzles his face deeper into you, loving the way you've started to smell like him the longer you're in his room. "You're distracting me," Your eyes roll at the way you can almost hear the faux sulk on his face.

Laughing you push his head away from you - he groans dramatically and throws himself back against the bed- and place the guitar gently against the floor, "How am I being distracting, I'm not even doing anything!" Eddie adores the giggles that escape you between words.

He scoffs like your words bring him offense, "Well maybe if you weren't so damn gorgeous I could focus better- ever thought about that?"

You roll your eyes again but you secretly find much delight in his theatrical personality.

You twist your body and move to straddle him taking pride in the way Eddie gulps, "Oh you're right," Your hand gently cups his cheek; he leans into the touch without much thought, "It's all my fault, isn't it, baby?"

He gulps again, "Mhm, yeah, all your fault."

food for thought | o.miya

-> pairings: miya osamu x gn!reader | sfw | cw: none | genre: fluff | wc: 619 | mlist

-> synopsis: your boyfriend has odd eating habits, but it’s only because he loves you so much.

“You eat like you’ve been starved.”

“Hm?” Osamu remarks, shoveling onigiri into his mouth at a speed that makes you wonder how he hasn’t choked yet. The whir of the fridge rings faintly in your ear while you watch in amusement as he barely breathes between bites. It had become almost a ritual between you and your boyfriend to order in on cozy nights like these when neither you or him had the energy to cook.

It had also become routine for Osamu to scarf his food down in seconds while you pick at yours aimlessly.

“I said you eat like you‘ve just suffered through a famine,” you laugh, heart swelling with a soft affection. “Why?”

His chewing slows as he furrows his brow in contemplation. Swallowing, he slouches back in his seat and shrugs. “Force of habit, I guess. ‘Tsumu always stole my food if I wasn’t fast enough.”

“That makes sense,” you nod, though a nagging curiosity creeps into your head, accompanied by the urge to let it spill through your mouth. You wait for a beat before giving in to the feeling. Pressing your arms against the table, you lean forward.

“I have another question.”

Snorting, he fiddles with the little food that’s left on his plate. “Can I ask what compelled ya to analyze my eatin’ habits?”

Your eyes narrow, “‘Samu…”

“My bad,” he concedes, popping the last piece of onigiri into his mouth. “What’s the question?”

You pause, gesturing to the now-empty dish in front of him, “Have you noticed that you never rush through the food I cook for you?” Tilting your head, you add, “It’s only when we go out, or when you make stuff for yourself that you eat like this.”

Osamu doesn’t answer right away. He goes quiet for a moment, but he fills the silence by tapping his chopsticks against the table. Shifting languidly, he meets your expectant gaze and sighs, breaking the still. “I guess… it’s ‘cause I want the moment to last longer.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Y’know what I mean,” he replies, voice softening.

“I don’t.”

Groaning, he sets the utensils down to fork fingers through his hair. “Usually I’m the one that cooks, so when you do it—it’s special,” he explains, his lips parting slightly like he’s trying to find the right words to articulate an intricate thought. His eyes flicker down to his plate and back up to you. “I chew slower to show my appreciation. Sorta like how yer supposed to look at paintings in museums for a long time.”

Your chest pangs with surprise at his answer, and you raise your hand to inspect your now warm cheek. Gaping at him, slack-mouthed, his words echo through your head as silence stretches between the two of you once more. Despite being together for so long, Osamu’s words still could make you feel like you were floating.

When you finally speak, you can’t help but smile. “Are you comparing my cooking to a masterpiece?”

“No,” he quips, eyes twinkling with mirth, “That’d be offensive to artists.”

You gasp, “Rude!” But there’s no real feeling behind it. Giggling, you act on impulse and shove your half-finished plate of gyoza across the table towards him.

He hums, lips twisting upwards slightly. “What’re ya givin’ me this for?” His voice holds a fondness that makes you want to swoon.

“You’re cute. That’s why.”

Cocking his head at you, he smiles in appreciation. His nose is tinted pink from the steam that remains of your leftovers, and you find it unbelievably adorable. Chopsticks reaching to finish the food you had presented to him, he pauses to look up at you, catching your gaze once more.

“I think yer cuter.”

—a/n: picture me writing this and wailing in agony bcuz that’s exactly how it happened

requested to be tagged: @sahrii @mayyhaps (who also proofread this so shoutout may) @kameyyy

Okay hear me out, Eddie nervous on your first valentines day together wanting to make it special and only knowing how to valentines from what he's seen at school and he panics and is very eddie about the whole thing 👀

please my heart almost couldn't take this. i swore nothing over 1k but nervous and panicking eddie being all cute?? yeah i couldn't help myself. this isn't edited, sorry in advance. no warnings, just fluff.

wc: 2.2k

He feels stupid.

It's the only thought ringing through his head as he sits at the Munson's dining table, scraps of construction paper strewn over the worn wood, glue stick drying out to the side and scissors digging into his knuckles. 

It had started as a prophetic vision after a few hits from his blunt; it was quickly souring into the most ridiculous thing he’s ever done. 

The high had worn off, Eddie had glued his fingers together thrice now (seriously, how was this glue stick approved for children?), and the end product…. Well, he hated it. 

The card was tacky. The flowers were uneven. He didn’t even have the willpower nor time to make a full bouquet as he had originally wanted to while under the influence. Pink glitter was now overtaking the trailer, and he’s never seen his uncle look so damn entertained. 

“Boy, what on God’s green Earth are you going?” 

Normally, the twang of Wayne’s accent would be comforting. But right now, all Eddie could hear was held back laughter choking up his old man’s throat, and a glint in his eye that felt a lot like a taunt, and he felt the farthest from comforted in a very long time. 

“Mind your business, old man,” Eddie grumbles, tongue sticking out as he tries to reglue a corner of a paper heart he had cut out, needing it to stick down properly. He probably should have purchased glue, in hindsight. 

“Where did you get all this paper?”

“I said mind your business.”

“Is that pink glitter?” 

“Don’t you have work?” Eddie huffs, grabbing at the Valentine card he was attempting to salvage, cheeks blushing more vibrant than any of the arts and crafts supplies spread about. 

He didn’t want to admit how embarrassed he was. He didn’t want to give anyone else the satisfaction. It was his own damn fault, really – he had offered for your nightly diner dates to be on him one too many times this last month, and entirely forgotten to put away any extra cash to get you a proper Valentine. And this was his last resort. 

He’d tried to convince the local florist to discount the flowers missing one too many petals for him, he’d tried to scope out the cheapest cards available at Melvald’s. He’d begged and bartered with every option in town to simply get you something for the day of love, and in the end, he’d simply fallen short.

So now, all he had was a palm full of gritty glitter and homemade items that looked worse for wear. 

One of the kinder ladies that lived two trailers down had been happy to offer Eddie some of her scrapbooking papers, throwing in the glitter for good measure, and he still had an old glue stick from when he’d built one of his custom tabletop maps for a D&D campaign. With five hours and a dream, he was now the not-so-proud creator of three handmade paper roses, and a card hardly large enough to fit in his palm. 

When he took a step back to look at it all, Wayne was right to be snickering on the couch over it all. 

“They’re going to hate it,” Eddie laments, glaring down at his creations, “They’re going to hate it, and I’m going to get dumped on our first Valentine’s day together.”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, son,” Wayne tries to genuinely comfort Eddie now, leaning forward to get a better look at his last five hours of work, “I’m sure they’re gon’ be happy that you just thought of the-”

“My life is over,” Eddie interrupts, walking over to the couch to collapse dramatically.

Wayne stops him, however, throwing up a hand, “Nope. You’re not gettin’ that damn pink glitter all over my couch. Go mope in your room.”

After a brief stare-off, a whole ten seconds wasted when Eddie could be wallowing in his self-pity, Eddie does exactly that.

He hopes Wayne is right, for all their sakes. There’ll be bigger things to worry about than just glitter if you really do hate Eddie’s attempt at a sincere Valentine. 

—

It takes nearly a full minute of knocking on the Munson’s trailer’s front door before Eddie opens it for you – that’s your first sign that something is terribly wrong. 

Your next sign is when Eddie hardly adds any enthusiasm into your welcome kiss, so reserved, as though he might be in a constant state of cringing; a constant state of preparing for the worst. 

“Is something the matter?” you ask innocently enough, toeing off your shoes and shifting your bag in hand. You’d picked up a few movies for the night, a variety of cheesy rom-coms Eddie expressed a slightest bit of interest in along with a few more up his alley. A horror film that neither of you had seen that looked to have a budget of $10 and a dream, and Labyrinth. 

The latter, you’d both already seen. Neither of you would pass up seeing David Bowie in his full glory, though. 

“It’s fine,” Eddie huffs out, still refusing to meet your gaze, “Want me to put on some popcorn?” 

You can’t help but light up as you follow him in his rush to the kitchen, “God – yes, please. I also got some sour patch kids, your favorite, and-”

You cut off when you catch sight of the dining room table. 

Eddie doesn’t glance back as he reaches up to the cabinet holding the stash of popcorn he keeps around for your movie nights, “And?” 

“Eddie…” you slowly draw out in a questioning tone, looking at the mess before you, “What, uh, happened here?” 

It’s an explosion of quintessential Valentine’s day. Pink paper hearts, strips of deep reds discarded messily. A shimmering glitter covers the table, and you can’t recall any DIY projects of Eddie’s for Hellfire that might involve that. 

“What?” He’s quick to turn around at that, and you watch as all the blood drains from his face, “Oh, fuck, I-” he launches himself back around the kitchen counter frantically, grabbing at any piece of paper he can find, “Shit, I meant to clean this up earlier, I’m sorr-”

“What were you making?” 

Eddie pauses all movement, glancing up at you in fear. 

You’re not even sure what he’s afraid of. All you can do is furrow your brows, twist your lips, scrunch your nose. 

Was it meant to be a surprise of some sort?

He swallows hard, standing up straight as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet, “I….”

When no words follow, you raise a brow, trying to silently encourage him to continue on. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And oh, he’s such a bad liar. A pretty one, but a terrible one. 

There’s no sign of the stellar poker face you’ve seen him wear during Hellfire sessions, no impeccable cockiness to cover up the obvious. His wringing hands draw your attention to his knuckles, all the drying glue and glitter peeling off bit by bit.  

“You sure about that?” you press, grin slow spreading as you take a step closer to him, eyeing the mess he tries to shift in front of to block from your sights.

“Positive.”

“Has anyone told you you’re an awful liar, Munson?”

“I’m not ly-” 

You scooch around him effortless, dropping your bag in the process and making him yelp out as he tries to catch you. His arms are quick to wrap around your waist as you try to get a clearer view of what he had been so desperate to conceal, but even his best efforts can’t stop you. 

It’s all a bit childish from the outside. Reckless giggles, flailing limbs – even Eddie is smiling in his panic. 

“Let go of me!” 

“Then leave it alone!”

“I wanna see what you made!” 

Each screech between the two of you is overcome with laughter as he pulls you flush to his chest, caging you in and yet failing to cover your eyes. 

You spot what he was trying to hide, and all attempts to escape his hold cease. 

“Are those…” you start, a little breathless as you stare in awe. You swear, you could burn up from the warmth blooming in your chest. When his arms go the slightest bit limp, you have your answer before finishing the question, “Are those for me?” 

A small jar, one that had once held some of Eddie’s pick collection, now holds three handmade paper roses. Mingling petals of two different shades of red, with tightly rolled pieces of green paper servings at their stems. Two even have leaves, cut jagged and true to nature. 

Leaning against the small paper flower display is a card.

It’s a messier ordeal than the flowers, but you’re still prying Eddie’s forearms from your stomach in a rush to grab it. 

“Hold on,” he rushes out, no longer laughing as you get a hold of the card, “Wait, listen, I can explain. I just- I spent most of my money when we went to Benny’s for shakes last week, and I forgot I wouldn’t get any more cash before today, and I just-” he’s stumbling over his words, a mess of flying hands and wide eyes as you turn to face him, “I… I’m sorry, okay? I swear, they’re just placeholders until I get you a real gift for Valentine’s Day.” 

You’re hardly listening to him as you look down at the small paper, folded over fairly impressively to mimic one of the fancy cards from Melvard’s. It’s thinner, sure, but you’re mesmerized as you trace over the heart cut out of the center. It’s filled with pink glitter that clings to your fingertip as it passes, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh. 

And then you open the card. 

The outside was plain white save for the heart, but the inside is gorgeous. Hand drawn vines and flowers fill the empty space inside. Roses, mums, lillies – every flower you can think of is amongst the bunch. All etched out in ink, an ink you recognize from Eddie’s favorite pen, and every gentle line sketched out to make the larger picture sends your heart racing a few beats faster.

Underneath the glitter heart is a large bee, made with a speech bubble. 

“Placeholder?” you laugh breathlessly, biting your lip to stop from smiling like a fool. “You call all this a placeholder?” 

Bee mine? 

It’s so cheesy, it aches. 

Written in makeshift cursive, not quite as neat as it could have been, but clearly a valiant effort from the shy man standing before you. You can’t fathom how he’s embarrassed about this when you look up at him with fluttering lashes and a chest full of fizzling love. 

“I thought you were going to hate them,” he hoarsely whispers as he reaches a hand to the nape of his neck. 

“Hate them?” you repeat in disbelief, turning your attention back to the handmade flowers. “In what fuckin’ world would I hate these?”

You lift one of the roses from the mini jar, and sniff it on instinct. It should only smell like paper and glue, but it doesn’t – Eddie’s obviously spritzed his cologne onto the flowers.

The miniscule detail has your heart bursting. 

He’s still petrified as he stares at you, shrugging hopelessly, “I just know it’s our first Valentine’s together, and people usually go all out-”

“This is going all out, Eddie.”

You can’t imagine being capable of any more love for the boy in front of you. Genuinely – you don’t believe your bones could handle the weight of it, that your heart could take it. You’re filled to the brim with it, buzzing like summertime cicadas beneath your skin from all the vibrant emotions you have for him. For every blemish across his skin and every kink in his curls, for those big brown eyes simply staring at you now. Those knuckles covered in glue and glitter. Those lips that you can’t handle another second not kissing. 

And so you don’t. Not another second is wasted as you fling yourself forward, nearly dropping the paper flower in hand as you grab each side of his face, bringing him to you in a hard kiss. 

You hope he feels all that love. You hope the weight of it presses down on his shoulders, even if just a little, so he gets it. 

“I fucking love it, Eds,” you laugh into the kiss, pressing your forehead, “I- Honestly? I think this is the nicest Valentine I’ve ever gotten.” 

“Really?” his eyes pop open, pulling back from you slightly until you simply won’t allow it. You want him close – you need him pressed against you. “Well, shit. I thought you were going to hate them and break up with me.” 

“Me, breaking up with you? After this?” you parrot back in disbelief, shaking your head, tip of your nose rubbing against his through the action, “God, you’re an idiot, Eddie Munson. My idiot, but still.” 

He finally cracks a smile, and you lose yourself in the dimples that appear as he asks, “Does this mean you’ll be my Valentine?”

“Absolutely.”

when you and bestfriend!eddie finally start dating, he’s so eager to kiss and hold and dote on you every chance he gets.

like pressing a kiss to your cheek while you wait in line at the store, resting an arm around your waist while you laugh with your friends at lunch, staring in adoration as you go on about the latest documentary you binged, kissing you sweet before closing the passenger door, pulling you in for hugs and telling you some of the sweet thoughts he has about you when you find yourselves alone, coming over to do nothing but be in the same room while you both work on your own things, he’ll give your hand an occasional squeeze just to remind you that he’s there.

greeting you with a bunch of handpicked flowers when he picks you up, guiding you to snuggle up under his chin while you watch a movie, caging you against the wall when you voice an insecurity- assuring you there’s nothing you need to feel that way about. picking you up when you pout at him and playfully tossing you onto his bed to tickle and smother you in kisses until you’re squirming and giggling, absolutely begging for a break.

lighting little candles in his room he bought just to make it extra cozy for when you stay the night, grazing his fingertips across your scalp while you nap on his chest - you feel the lightest press of his lips on your skin every few minutes.

the list goes on - he’s waited so long to be able to do those things with you, and if he knows anything for sure, it’s that he’ll never again waste anymore time.

“you’ll always be my best friend, but i’m so glad you’re finally my girl, too,” he whispers before you finally doze off.

🦢— (mutuals only) send me this and I’ll create a moodboard of you + the character of your choice, on your dream date.

With Eddie please please 🤭♥️♥️ congratulations on your follower milestone that’s awesome!! I love you so much and am so glad you are here!

Thank you so much, my love. I hope you like this! ILYSM! <3

You and Eddie find yourselves at the local library, the pouring rain makes light taps on the glass of the windows around you and the gloomy light filters into the large room as the smell of leather and old books fills the air. You and Eddie find the novels you both had been searching for, in between light hand grabs through book cases and soft whispers and giggles.

Once back home, you both dance in the kitchen while baking cinnamon buns and put on a pot of coffee before snuggling up into Eddie’s chest as he reads his newest fantasy book to you while he plays with your hair as the rain continues to rage on outside, it’s the perfect night.

✩ my 5k celebration ✩

Thinking of a shy!autistic!reader who sees Asahi Azumane for the first time…

You’re quiet, gentle, and overwhelmed by how tall the Karasuno guys are when you show up to bring them to the gym. You’ve been practicing what to say all day—going over it in your head like a script—but then you see him.

Asahi.

Big. Broad-shouldered. Soft-eyed.

You forget your entire sentence.

And while you manage to speak to Coach Ukai just fine, you keep sneaking glances at the third-year with the bun and the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen. You’re trying so hard not to stare, but your face is already flushed and you’re tugging at your sleeves like it’ll hide you.

Asahi notices. Of course he does.

He thinks she’s cute, but also wonders if something’s wrong. He doesn’t realize he’s staring back a little, and Daichi and Suga absolutely pick up on it.

Later, after the match, Nishinoya’s like, “Yo Asahi, your girlfriend was eyeing you the entire game.”

Asahi turns redder than Nekoma’s jerseys. “She was not!“

“She totally was,” Hinata adds, grinning.

“She literally walked into a wall watching you serve,” Suga says, just to stir the pot.

Across the gym, you are hiding behind one of your teammates, wishing the floor would swallow you whole—but also kinda hoping you get to talk to the soft boy with the pretty hair again.

reader who can’t stand satoru but then he gets hit by a curse that turns him into a cat. you find him, to his dismay, and take him home, only for him to realize how different you are when he isn’t around to pester you.

at first, he causes a lot of trouble. breaking things in your house, tearing up the pillows. he just wants to be a human again, but nobody can understand him! but you still take care of him and coddle him no matter how much trouble he causes, so different from how people treat him normally, as if he were a nuisance (which he kind of was on purpose). and he finds himself falling for you without realizing it.

so he stops being a bad cat, steadily losing hope that he’ll ever be human again. and satoru would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy how you stroked him while you read a book or let him sleep beside you at night. maybe it wasn’t so bad? so he decided then if he was going to be just a cat, he was fine with being your cat.

the higher-ups had taken note of his absence, obviously, and he only knows cause you’ve mentioned it to him. you had this endearingweird quirk where you’d talk to him as if he were a real person.

throughout his stay in your home as a house pet, satoru finds out a lot about you. you’ve always kept to yourself, but you vent your frustrations out to him while he’s like this, and he offers his comfort the best he can. which you appreciate, rewarding him with kisses that he secretly enjoys.

once he turns human again, by some miracle, his first thought is to go and find you. and when he does, you give him the cold shoulder like you used to, and it surprises him. before he realizes that, ah, he wasn’t your pet anymore. he was gojo satoru.

satoru realizes his feelings for you in that moment. when he feels the ache in his chest from your dismissive behavior, it leads him to starting his most important mission yet—winning your heart once more.

but this time, it’ll be as a person, not a damn cat.

𝝑𝝔 cool boyfriend sukuna x loser girlfriend reader !

just small stories from cool bf sukuna and his loser gf’s relationship!! set in college/university, with characters’ non-specified ages being over 18 :) sfw and nsfw!!

you can find more content about this series under the tag “cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader”, where i answer questions and stuff!

a little bit about the special treatment loser gf gets…

a little bit about sukuna teasing and loving his loser gf…

a little bit about loser gf imitating sukuna…

a little bit about dry humping with sukuna…

a little bit about drunk sukuna being a softie…

a little bit about sukuna getting jealous…

a little bit about sukuna seeing you in a skirt for the first time…

a little bit about sukuna and reader’s first meeting…

a little bit about sukuna and his loser gf yapping…

a little bit about you helping sukuna dye his hair black…

a little bit about sukuna showing you off…

a little bit about how sukuna deals with a difficult question his loser gf asks him…

a little bit about cool bf sukuna and his loser gf’s first date…

a little bit about loser gf ignoring sukuna…

a little bit about sukuna and his loser gf watching ‘the notebook’…

a little bit about what sukuna thinks of his relationship with his loser gf…

a little bit about loser gf meeting sukuna’s family…

a little bit about loser gf doubting her relationship with sukuna…

a little bit about cool bf sukuna and his loser gf reader playing basketball…

a little bit about reader’s first meeting with sukuna’s teammates…

a little bit about sukuna fingering his pretty loser gf for the first time…

a little bit about sukuna and his gf’s first time…

a little bit about loser gf babysitting yuuji…

a little bit about yorozu messing with loser reader…

a little bit about sukuna buying his loser gf a red lipstick…

a little bit about sukuna reassuring reader after she fails a test…

a little bit about sukuna taking care of his sick gf…

a little bit about sukuna being absent for a few days…

a little bit about sukuna and reader on the beach…

a little bit about sukuna and drunk loser gf…

a little bit about studying with cool bf sukuna…

a little bit about trying “is that seat taken?” with sukuna…

a little bit more about sukuna and reader’s relationship…

a little bit of happy birthday with sukuna…

a little bit about ‘i love you’s with sukuna…

a little bit about sukuna with reader who is struggling with saying ‘no’…

a little bit about sukuna doing the voicing gf’s makeover trend…

a little bit about reader getting injured…

a little bit about visiting the zoo with yuuji…

a little bit about reader being scared of needles…

a little bit about sukuna jerking off to reader riding her pillow…

a little bit about reader feeling lonely and sad without sukuna…

a little bit about sukuna getting angry at someone talking bad about you…

a little bit about having an argument with sukuna…

a little bit about sukuna meeting your friends…

a little bit about sukuna’s teammates…

a little bit about baking with sukuna…

a little bit about the aftermath of the argument…

a little bit about reader getting stood up by her friends…

a little bit about reader crushing on sukuna…

a little bit about reader on her first shift as a nurse…

a little bit about sukuna’s piercings…

a little bit of reader trying to be more direct...

MARKS ! a. miya x fem!reader

"Atsumu Miya," You gasp out, looking at your neck in the mirror.

"Yes'm?" He replies lazily, laying in the bed scrolling through his Instagram feed, without a care in the world.

It takes a moment for you to get your words out because, what the actual hell...? There are multiple, dark, marks on your neck.

"Holy fuck, do you want people to think you're abusing me or something?" That catches his attention immediately, but once he sees what you're referring to, he lies back down with a smirk.

"M'sorry that I love my wife and I want everyone to know." Oh, they'll know alright, and then you'll be on the receiving end of the teasing.

"I know, but, this is just downright ridiculous. It looks like you tried to fucking eat me." Atsumu laughs at that, and decides to get out of the bed to come take a look for himself.

The warmth of his bare chest seers through the tank top you have on and you can feel his steady heart beat. He, not so subtly, inhales the scent of your conditioner in your hair. "Mm, yeah. I did a number on ya, huh?"

You meet his beautiful brown eyes through the mirror and he looks heaven sent. His hair is all over the place, he's got a few marks from you, on his neck and chest, and that stupid smile that you fell in love with. How could you possible stay mad at him?

"You sure as hell did, and I have work in a little." He hums in thought as he snakes his arms around you waist.

"Why don'tcha just cover it with some makeup?" Oh if you could you would... you don't even think the best concealer could hide these marks.

"If it was just a singular hickey I would, but I don't think this can be covered without being super noticeable." Atsumu tries and fails to stifle a chuckle.

"Looks like ya gotta stay home today, huh?"

"Not happening, I have a super important presentation today." The both of you examine your neck together trying to figure out the best way to tackle it.

"Turtleneck?" Atsumu suggests, rubbing his hands up and down your sides in a comforting way.

"That would work it if it wasn't so hot out."

"But yer gonna be inside, giving a presentation..." He reasons.

"Ugh, turtleneck it is, I guess." The blond presses a kiss to your cheek, and you swat his face away. You're not mad anymore, but it's still his fault you'll have to wear a turtleneck in 80 degree weather.

The bed shakes with another round of Eddie’s laughter, wheezing giggles shaking the bed with you lying beside him, trying your best to catch your breath and wipe the tears from your eyes.

Your hand finds his belly, still full from all the food you had at dinner, running your fingers through the dusting of just hair below his bellybutton.

“You gotta catch your breath, baby,” you smile as your hand makes its way to his chest, rubbing a soothing pattern there as your own heart swells over the pure joy painting his face.

And that laugh. Your favorite sound.

“I haven’t laughed that hard in a while,” he sighs happily, his hand rubbing his eyes before finding your hand, giving it a few squeezes before tilting his head to lean against yours.

“It feels so good,” words whispered so softly you almost don’t hear them.

Words holding so much weight.

You press a kiss to his chest with eyes closed, feeling the thumpthumpthump of his heart before snuggling even closer.

“I know.”