Nanami Had Always Wanted To Go To Malaysia.

Clingy!Satoru who calls you every night that you're not in his bed, so he can snuggle his pampered butt into bed and fall asleep to your voice; cheek squished comfortably into the pillow, murmuring soft and sleepy I miss yous into his pillow while you adore him through the screen.

Clingy!Satoru who liplocks you like he's trying to glue himself to you. His lips never want to leave yours, there's always a reluctancy when he pulls away from a kiss and oh, the way he pleads for kissy marks — he wants to be decorated in them, "More please... here, and here... and here... huh? It won't look goofy; it's my lady's lipstick. I'm gonna show off your marks to everyone."

Clingy!Satoru who stands behind you in a queue — because you "look too good from the back" and he needs to block the people behind you from getting a good view of what belongs to him. With a dorky smirk on his face, his fingers nip at the back of your clothes, his eyes obsess over every inch of you from your head to your shoes.

In public, especially in long queues, Satoru leans down to your neck and speaks to you with his lips grazing your skin.

Clingy!Satoru who keeps his arms around you while the two of you are talking in a group, his biceps pressing at your sides. He habitually grazes his fingers over your tummy, stopping and smirking each time he receives a swat from you.

Clingy!Satoru who trots after you, tall stature lingering in your shadow, following as you pave the way to wherever it is you're taking him. He'll clumsily bump into you from the back when you abruptly stop because he keeps such a terrible tailing distance.

Clingy!Satoru who is glued to your body in bed even during a heatwave. It always plays out the exact same way every night:

You're sweating, the air is too thick. But Satoru doesn't care; he clings to your back despite being a literal heater himself.

"Satoru." you swat him away for the fifth time. He groans and inches away — but a few minutes later he's scooching back into spooning position.

"Satoru, seriously. You're too hot."

"I know." he smiles against the nape of your neck, arms wrapped firmly around you.

Swat.

❦ 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

Choso sleeps. A lot.

It’s more than you would imagine for a man of his importance, yet for nearly three hours a day after getting to your place, he curls up on the couch, kicks his legs up and closes his pretty eyes to let his dreams take over and slumber wash over him.

It's cute. It's also just a little bizarre.

You always smile down at him, card a hand through his soft hair, plant a kiss to his forehead and lay a warm blanket over his shoulders to keep him warm.

His little snores ring in the air as you cook dinner, and when he wakes up with the smell of fresh food, he hooks his chin over your shoulder and wraps his arms around your torso with a sleepy smile.

Today, that cycle breaks.

You card your hand through his hair with a loving smile, lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, and-

Big, pretty eyes immediately blink open before you can make contact, a wide smile splaying over his face, only to drop in worry when you flinch back and fall.

“OH GOD!”

“Oh no!”

An arm quickly darts out to catch you, only to have you half caught, half plopped to the floor. You clutch your chest in fear, “choso! What’re you doing!”

“I… I was just-“

“You scared me, you ass! Why are you pretending to be asleep!”

"I didn't mean to!" he says quickly. "I just got so excited for my kiss... I'm sorry."

Your brows furrow and you plop down next to him on the couch, "what kiss, Cho?"

His cheeks blister into a blush of embarrassment, "When... when I fall asleep, you press a kiss to my forehead, and I really like that. It's something that's simple, but i really enjoy you doing." He buries his face in his hands to hide the way he’s blushing.

You ponder for a few seconds before the lightbulb goes off in your head, “ohhhhh! Your forehead kiss!”

He nods in his hands.

“Babe,” you chuckle. “I can just give you forehead kisses. There not exclusive to when you’re asleep! All you have to do is ask, or let me just come to you naturally. Nine times out of ten, when I come near you, I'm coming in for a kiss." To prove your point, you lean inwards to press a loving kiss to his forehead, then one on his nose, then the corner of his lips. He smiles and turns his head slightly to catch your lips in a kiss, and you pull back with a smile. “I like kissing you. Awake, and asleep.”

“Well I like receiving your kisses,” he says, laying his hand palm up for you to lace your fingers with, which you do happily before bringing his knuckles up to kiss them as well. “I like you giving me affection.”

“And I like giving it to you,” you laugh.

He tosses an arm around your shoulder and pull you close to his side, allowing you to cuddle into him with a happy sigh.

You kiss his cheek, “so… you like getting kissed huh?”

He blushes again and rests his forehead against yours to make eye contact, “don’t push it.”

“Too late, Cho.”

Kenma is currently trying his best to keep his hands from shaking. He is ultimately unsuccessful when he finally gets them to hold still, just to have his leg shaking right in its place. He hates fighting with you, and to be honest he is really trying to avoid it. But how can he when he is almost certain that you are slipping away from him in favor of your new coworker. He would be lying if he said that he always felt secure in your relationship, but it was never your fault. He had always subconsciously felt like you needed someone who wasn't so introverted so you could properly enjoy dates, vacations, and parties like you deserved. He had been quite surprised when you didn't seem to mind that most of your dates were at either your or his apartment or that he was never the last one to stay at one of Kuroo's events. He considered himself lucky, but that doesn't mean he still wondered if you would ever find someone else.

Kenma's head snaps up as he hears your keys in the door. He takes a steeling breath to calm his nerves and hopefully get his thoughts in order. You come in and your eyes immediately fall onto your sweet boyfriend. Kenma can see the smile growing on your face as soon as you catch his eye and he feels bad that he has to be the one to ruin it for you. He sees the look of confusion that takes over your face at Kenma's face. "Hey baby is everything okay?" Your voice always sounds so sweet and hearing it almost makes him want to just drop this subject. How could the love of his life, with the sweetest smile and the sweetest voice ever do something as heinous as cheating? There's no way.

"Yeah, I just think we should talk." Your heart drops at Kenma's tone. He sounds as if he's a shell of a person, like whatever is bugging him has taken root and replaced your Kenma. Your voice is much shakier when you respond "Yeah, no problem." Kenma doesn't miss the fact that you stopped yourself from saying babe at the end of your sentence and feels absolutely distraught. He never thought that you withholding a pet name from him would absolutely wreck him as much as it does. He takes a deep breath before he bluntly asks "Are you interested in Hikaru-san?" You stare at him blankly as you process his words. Interested? Why would you ever be interested in Hikaru? You confidently tell Kenma "No, why would I be interested in Hikaru-san?" Kenma then responds with a cold "Then why have you been talking and hanging out with them so much?" You try to hold back your laughter at the absolute ridiculousness of this whole situation. Your boyfriend that you live with and have been with for years is jealous of the young intern that has been appointed as your trainee. The only reason why Hikaru has had to text you so often is because he has gotten lost taking the train back to his university more times than you can count. He had a big heart, but he could be a little dense. You two had also had to stay overtime a few days because he had forgotten to turn in some very important paperwork and you were scared if you left him alone to do it he would mess something up. You decide that showing Kenma instead of telling Kenma would be a much better course of action, so you unlock your phone and hand it to your skeptical boyfriend. He looks up at you for confirmation and starts looking through your text messages with Hikaru after you smile and nod at him to start the search. What he gathers from the messages is that your responses are very polite and almost monotone. It's exactly what he would expect from a coworker that you aren't particularly close to. He also notices that Hikaru's texts are anything but flirty. Almost all of his messages consist of him panicking over getting off at the right stop and missing an important meeting, or him trying to gauge how much time an important task will take so he can try and make time for his own coursework. He hands you your phone back sheepishly, but he still thinks that something has to be going on. He waits as you quickly navigate to your instagram to show him Hikaru's profile. You turn your screen around to face Kenma as you go through Hikaru's bio and posts. You see realization dawn as Kenma's face before he looks up at you to confirm to see a knowing smile spread across your face.

"Ken he has a boyfriend."

Oh.

it’s been so fucking hot outside and i am plagued with the fact that i know eddie is the type that has to touch you when he sleeps. it’s not even really something he knows he does, he just does it.

goes to sleep (and he is a hard sleeper, never wakes up) and is mouth open snoring, and it’ll start with lifting his leg so his shin is touching you, or a foot touching your leg. then he’ll roll and his side is pressed up to your body, sometimes an arm thrown over you. it’s kinda nice in the winter when you’re freezing and enjoy the extra body heat, but in the dead of summer, it’s misery.

you try to push him off, shove him only for him to roll away and come back stronger like a tidal wave, nearly laying entirely on top of you. he’ll grab at you sometimes, try to pull you in while you’re pushing him away.

the room is too stuffy, the ac not working hard enough and the fans not cutting it. you end up fighting eddie until you wake him up with a tired, frustrated huff.

“what? what?” his voice is groggy, sleep ridden and spacey.

“scoot over.” you huff, pushing him with your foot for emphasis. “you’re smothering me.”

“‘m sorry, baby.” eddie mutters, lids already pulling closed with sleep, rolling over towards the edge and away.

you’d have time to try and wedge a pillow between the two of you, hopeful that it would keep him away for a little while. he always ends up rolled over on the pillow, hand on your head or your hip, just to feel you- even when you keep shoving him off.

i love when ppl in the eddie fandom try to act like they’re hot shit. babe, you’re a simp for a fictional boyloser who’s never been fucked. we are all in the clown car

Friends to lovers fluff with Eddie

The sound of a gentle whoosh repeats over your ear like a loop, as Eddie delicately traces his fingertips along the side of your face, sweeping your hair back and forth, absentmindedly.

Nothing needs you right now, except for Eddie’s safe arms that hold you, as you lay snug against his chest.

The fan hums on a medium setting while you go between listening to your friend boyfriend’s heartbeat, and his low, smooth voice as he narrates the latest paperback that caught his eye.

His chin rests on your crown, until you move just enough to be able to throw him a glance, when his scruff kisses your forehead.

“‘it was at that last moment they finally let go-’ hm, what’re you doin’ sweetheart? You still comfy?” He asks peering down at you.

His reading glasses rest cutely on his face as he temporarily pauses his story telling to check on you.

“Mhm, I’m good baby,” you assure him with a kind smile. “Just lookin’ at my handsome man. You know, I didn’t get to tell you before, but one of my favorite things is your voice,” you inform him, sneaking an innocent hand underneath his t-shirt to gently run it up and down his soft hairy tummy.

“ ‘n your smile, your warmth. So many of my favorite things are you.” You shuffle up to plant a couple sweet kisses to his cheeks, watching as they go pink, “just wanted to tell you that.”

You settle back down, pulling the covers to your chin, as you nuzzle back against his chest, making sure he was also nice and covered.

“Eds? Gonna keep reading?”

“Yeah,” he clears his throat before bringing a hand to your jaw and leaving a kiss.

“ ‘s just…babe, you’re so fuckin’ special to me, you have no idea,” he whispers, “ ‘m the luckiest man to have had you as a friend, and now as my girl. I love you so fuckin’ much, baby.”

He eagerly searches beneath the covers and quickly finds your hand to hold, slotting his fingers through yours to give them a gentle squeeze.

“I do, Eddie. I love you so much.”

It's quiet, it’s cozy. It’s home.

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝟗:𝟏𝟕 𝐏𝐌; GOJO SATORU

gojo was so tired of being the strongest. so tired of pretending nothing ever got to him.

his body felt like it could break at any moment as he made his way back to his apartment, every step heavier than the last. the mission had been hell. his body hurts in places he didn’t know existed. his usual cocky stride was gone, replaced with a stiffness that made him feel like a damn robot.

when he opened the door, he didn’t expect to see you.

you looked up from the couch, frowning at him. “satoru?”

he blinked slowly, trying to shake off the fog.

“did we have a date planned?” he asked. his voice was rough, barely more than a rasp. he hadn’t messaged you, hadn’t checked his phone—hell—he didn’t even know if he’d eaten in the past few days.

you didn’t get angry like he expected. no eye rolls, no snarky comments, no judgment like his previous relationships. instead you just stood up, and moved towards him with that careful, knowing grace. almost as if you could sense he was about to crumble.

“c’mere.”

he didn’t hesitate, stepping forward until he felt your warmth at his side. you guided him with a steady hand towards the bathroom. in that moment gojo felt as if your touch was the only thing melting him up when all he wanted to do was collapse.

his whole life, people had leaned on him—looked to him for strength. with you he here taking care of him, he felt like is was finally his turn. you treated him like he was human, not some untouchable weapon. and that’s what made him feel like maybe he wasn’t just a tool, maybe he mattered outside of his strength.

once you helped settle him on the toilet seat gojo gently held yours hips as you stepped between his legs and gently removed his blindfold. he sighed and leaned into your stomach when you scratched his scalp.

soon the soft splashing of water filled the room as you. he watched you everything you did with low eyes. if he wasn’t so tired he would’ve had had his hands all over you.

when you turned back to him your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt—he didn’t protest. you just gently slid the fabric off, your fingers brushing his sensitive sides.

you cupped his checks and tilted his face towards your own. “did you eat today?” your voice was so quiet almost completely drowned out by the sound of the tub.

he chuckled into you hand but it didn’t carry the usual lightness. “don’ remember.”

you sighed, shaking your head as you pushed his soft locks off his face. “you never take care of yourself toru.”

his lips curved into a half-smirk. “that’s what I have you for, huh?”

you didn’t laugh, didn’t tease him back like you usually would. instead, you just gave him that look—the one that made his chest tighten. the one that saw through his tough exterior without even trying.

“get in.”

he sank into the tub, the warmth cascading all over his sore muscles in a way they made him groan. a shaky breath escaped his lips when you places his head in your lap from your place on the edge. and finally, with silver strands sticking to his forehead, bags underneath his eyes, head in your lap—gojos body finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever.

he was on the verge of sleep when he felt you stand.

his fingers twitched over the rim of the tub. “stay.” it wasn’t a command, wasn’t playful. just quiet. unsure. like he was afraid to ask.

you paused for a moment, but then you stripped and stepped in behind him, the water shifting with your weight. when your arms wrapped around him, pulling his back against you, he felt himself melting into the embrace.

your fingers slid back into his hair, massaging gently, your nails grazing his scalp in a way that made his whole body relax under your touch. you other hand was drawing small shapes into his chest.

no one had ever touched him like this. no one ever cared without expecting something in return.

“toru,” you whispered, lips brushing against his temple “you don’t have to do everything alone.”

his fingers curled around your wrist, holding you close, as if anchoring himself to you. “don’t go anywhere,” he whispered.

you pressed a soft kiss to his hair. “I won’t. never.”

his world had always been too loud. too fast. too demanding—but with you here, everything slowed. everything quieted.

he let himself sink into it—let himself need you. and, for the first time since he could remember, he felt was it was like to be loved unconditionally.

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here

cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 

You see both sides of him now. 

“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 

“Hello,” you call back. 

The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 

“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 

“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 

“Shit, you wanna see?” 

You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.

He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 

“Another bat?” you ask. 

“Not cool?” 

“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 

“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 

You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 

The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 

“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 

“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 

“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 

You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 

“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 

“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 

“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”

“You don’t wanna line up?” 

“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 

“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 

“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 

You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 

Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 

“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 

“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 

“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.

He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 

“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 

You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 

You pull your head up slowly. 

He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 

Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 

You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 

With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.

You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 

Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 

You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 

“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 

“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 

This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 

His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 

“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 

“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 

He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”

You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 

“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 

He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 

You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 

“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 

You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 

“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 

You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 

Eddie “I am going to crush you with all my weigh when we cuddle ” Munson