Day 04: Eddie

You and Eddie, silly grins on your faces, high and feeling groovy as you dance around the trailer, playing and singing to that one scene from Dirty Dancing.

"How you call your lover boy?"

"Come here, lover boy!

You collapse on his bed, smiling and giggling as he cages you in, peppering kisses to your face. His hand cups your cheek, leaning up to admire his girl.

He kisses you delicately, but fueled with passion and love. You pull away first when a light bulb goes off in your head. "LET'S DO THE LIFT!"

"Absolutely not!" He states, sternly.

Okay, that's all. Have a wonderful night. Bye

ugh i need to drink with post-graduate suga i just know it would fix me >_>

Eddie at the beach headcaons

Eddie Munson x female reader

• he hates it lowkey, but only goes because you love it so much. you go all out and pack a picnic basket full of food and towels, sunscreen and even a pail and shovel as a joke.

• he hates the sand. that’s the worst thing about it. it gets everywhere in his hair and he’s always shaking his head like a dog trying to get it out.

• when dustin comes along they wrestle while you tan.

“eyes on me, henderson. not my lady.”

• he’s TERRIFIED of getting in the water and refuses to go in any deeper than past his knees. every time he brushes against seaweed or touches a seashell he screams like a little girl and runs out as quickly as he can.

• caused a fiasco because he yelled shark! and the whole beach flocked out of the water.

• likes it more when he lays on the beach towel with you and watches the sunset.

• burns so bad it’s not even funny, especially on his forehead.

• throws a fit when dustin knocks over his sand castle.

Ow

“Hey,” Eddie giggles as he watches you nuzzle the softness of his belly near his hip, rubbing your nose back and forth along the warm skin exposed from the band tee turned sleep shirt riding up his torso, faded scars on display.

You hum, peppering kisses to every inch of skin you can reach, breathing the comforting scent of Eddie in as you melt further into him.

Warm, woodsy, vanilla. Him.

Another nip to his hip sends him squirming with a breathy chuckle, every touch tickling him more.

Sweetheart

“Could eat you right up, baby,” you sigh, pressing one last kiss to his belly and wrapping your arms around him.

Your eyes close as you run your fingers along his side, listening to his gentle breaths as they begin to even out, signaling he’s already drifting off to sleep with such ease.

Wrapped in the arms of a lover

people thinking that sakusa’s being maltreated because of the bruises on his forearm, but the truth is . .

Sakusa is known to always wear his compression sleeves on and off the court for post-game press conferences. It completed his signature look. His overall flair.

Everything seemed normal at first, but it wasn’t long before murmurs surfaced through the room. Reporters exchanged glances, some scrolling through their phones, others whispering among themselves.

The reason? For the first time in a long while, Sakusa wasn’t wearing his compression sleeves.

His toned forearms were exposed for everyone to see, and to the media’s surprise, they weren’t completely unblemished. Faint bruises and clusters of reddish dots speckled his skin—nothing severe, but noticeable enough to raise eyebrows. Some looked older, fading into his skin, while others were more recent.

The questions were bound to come.

“Sakusa-san, many fans have noticed that you’re not wearing your usual sleeves today. And, well…” she hesitated, gesturing vaguely at his arms.

“There’s been a lot of speculation about the marks on your skin. Is everything alright?”

Sakusa blinked once, his expression unreadable. He glanced down at his arms, clearly catching onto what she meant. A moment of silence passed before he let out a slow exhale through his nose.

He knew this would happen eventually.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Then, into the mic, he deadpanned, “I’m fine.”

The room remained unconvinced.

Sakusa could already imagine what the internet was saying. Rumors were probably spreading like wildfire—was he getting into fights? Had he been injured in training? Worse, was something happening at home?

“If I may, are those from mosquitos? With the recent outbreak of mosquitos due to the warm weather, could it be from those?”

“No.”

“Allergies, perhaps?”

“None.”

A few more reporters shuffled in their seats, hesitant but clearly eager to dig deeper.

Then, another one asked, “Just to clarify, you’re saying these marks aren’t from… any sort of external conflict?”

Sakusa’s brow twitched. He leaned forward slightly, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask as he adjusted the mic, and let out another small sigh. “I’m not being abused, if that’s what people are implying.”

The room went silent. His fellow players exchanged approving nods, letting their teammate handle the situation.

“My wife is in medical school,” Sakusa continued, his voice even, matter-of-fact. “She’s refreshing her phlebotomy skills, and I often volunteer to be her patient whenever she needs someone for a demo or assignment.”

The silence stretched for a moment before a few quiet chuckles broke through, some from relief, others from sheer amusement at the unexpected explanation. Well, it wasn’t often Sakusa talked about you.

“So… you’re saying these marks are from blood extractions?”

“Yes,” he answered, tilting his head slightly as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “She wants to practice, and I’d rather help her than have her struggle to find volunteers.”

Hinata whispered something to Bokuto, but even with the low volume of the mic, Sakusa still caught it.

“That’s kinda romantic.”

He turned his head slightly to glare at them, but Bokuto was already grinning. “No, but really! That’s, like, peak husband material. You’re not even fond of monthly checkups.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Meian chuckled. “You’re literally letting someone practice on you repeatedly. That’s dedication.”

Reporters were already typing away, some clearly rewriting their headlines. What had started as a potentially scandalous story had turned into something else entirely.

The media had long known Sakusa to be a private person, almost aggressively so. He rarely spoke about his personal life, and to this day, many fans still couldn’t believe he was married. Out of all the MSBY Black Jackals players, Sakusa and your marriage are by far the most private.

It wouldn’t even have been known if it weren’t for Hinata’s post with the newly wedded couple a year ago!

And yet, here he was, casually revealing that he lets you practice medical procedures on him just to support your studies.

“Is she any good?” another reporter asked, grinning now. “At phlebotomy?”

His eyes narrowed briefly. “Her undergraduate course is medical laboratory science—so yes, she’s been doing this for years.”

“And you’ve never complained?”

He shrugged. That was the stupidest question he’s heard today.

“Why would I? She supports me in my career. The least I can do is support her in hers.”

The room was quiet for a second before a wave of approving murmurs spread across the lobby area. The tension had completely shifted.

Bokuto grinned. “Man, you’re really down bad for your wife, huh?”

Sakusa sighed, clearly regretting every life decision that led him to sitting next to Bokuto in this moment. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to volleyball.”

Hinata laughed. “It’s not, but it’s fun to watch you get all flustered as you tell them more about [Last Name], Omi!”

“I’m not flustered,” Sakusa muttered, tugging at his jersey sleeve slightly as if contemplating whether he should just start wearing them all the time again to avoid situations like this.

“Like hell ye aren’t,” Atsumu snorted.

By the time the conference ended, social media had already latched onto the revelation.

#SakusaBestHusband started trending almost immediately, with fans gushing over how unexpectedly sweet he was. Some joked that they wanted a “Sakusa-level” of support in their relationships.

-

You had been watching the press conference from your laptop at home, your face buried in your hands as your notifications blew up.

A few minutes later, Sakusa messaged you.

Kiyoomi: I hate the internet.

You: And they love you, actually.

Kiyoomi: They won’t shut up about me letting you stab me with needles.

You: You do let me stab you with needles.

Kiyoomi: It’s more than that. Ugh, people don’t educate themselves enough about your profession

Kiyoomi: And it sounds worse when you say it like that.

You laughed, shaking your head.

You: Well, you are the best husband in the whole world ever. You kind of brought this on yourself.

He didn’t reply right away, and you assumed he was on his way back home. But when your phone buzzed again, your heart warmed at the short but sincere message.

Kiyoomi: You’re worth it. Be home in 20 minutes

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

Can you imagine the kind of annoying antics Eddie would get up to if he was dating someone who got scared easy?

You’d be unloading the dishwasher thinking you’re home alone not knowing Eddie has come home and silently snuck up behind you so when you feel a pair of hands on your hips you’d let out a loud scream making Eddie just smile as if it’s one of his favorite sounds.

He’d make you shriek when he randomly opens the shower curtain when you’re in the middle of your shampoo routine, laughing to himself as he joins you and just ignores your playful slaps to his chest.

It would be you screaming “holy shit” when you turn around and see Eddie standing in the doorway with a smirk on his face because that time he actually didn’t mean to scare you.

You’d find yourself turning corners and letting out a yelp when Eddie is standing there because he heard you coming and couldn’t help himself because your little sounds of terror just do something to him and he knows you don’t mind that he scares you because it usually ends up with his arms wrapped around you and kisses being peppered all over your face.

Hi! Could I request an Eddie X reader? Maybe something where he is playing with readers hair for the first time and learns that’s what puts reader to sleep really quickly?

Omg stop this is too cute. No warnings, just fluff ahead.

You had been at Eddie’s trailer for a few hours now, the both of you doing your own thing—him messing with his guitar, you flipping through an old magazine on his bed. It was comfortable, familiar. The kind of silence that didn’t need filling.

But then Eddie sighed dramatically, flopping onto the bed beside you, making the mattress bounce. “Babe, I’m bored.”

You raised a brow but didn’t look up from your page. “And that’s my problem because…?”

He let out a scoff, propping himself up on one elbow to stare at you like you’d just offended him. “Because you’re my girlfriend, and it is, in fact, your duty to entertain me.”

That made you roll your eyes, flipping another page just to be annoying. “I don’t remember signing up for that.”

Eddie gasped, pressing a hand over his chest. “Heartbreaking. Betrayal. I might not recover from this.” He let himself collapse fully onto the bed with an exaggerated groan. “At least let me hold you while I suffer.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “That sounds like a you problem, Munson.”

Eddie turned his head to look at you, his brown eyes soft but playful. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he coaxed, reaching for your arm, giving it a light tug. “Just for a little while.”

The thing was—you wanted to. You weren’t the most openly affectionate person, but there was something about Eddie that made you let your guard down. And right now, his warmth was ridiculously inviting.

So with a sigh that you exaggerated just to be difficult, you finally set the magazine aside and shifted closer, letting him pull you into his arms.

Eddie grinned victoriously, tucking you against his chest, his arms looping around you like he’d been waiting all day for this. “See? Much better.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight your own smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But I’m your ridiculous,” he pointed out, resting his chin on top of your head.

You huffed, but your body had already melted into his. He was warm, solid, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing in a way you hadn’t expected. His fingers traced absent patterns along your back, and before you knew it, your eyes were growing heavier.

Eddie must’ve noticed because he chuckled, voice softer now. “Getting sleepy on me already?”

You wanted to argue, but you were too comfortable, too warm. You made a small noise in response, which only made him laugh again.

“Damn. I really am that good, huh?”

You elbowed him lightly, but he just pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Eddie wasn’t sure when he’d started doing it, but his fingers had absentmindedly found their way into your hair, twisting a strand around before dragging his fingertips through the length of it. And when he started doing that? There was nothing that could've stopped you from passing out.

It was a good few minutes of you being silent before Eddie glanced down, a smirk tugging at his lips when he realized why.

“Are you serious right now?” he muttered, but there was no bite to it. Just pure amusement.

Your head had lolled slightly to the side, your eyes shut, breath steady. You were out.

Eddie let out a soft laugh, his fingers pausing for a second before running gently through your hair again, testing the theory. Sure enough, you let out a barely-there hum and nestled closer, completely dead to the world.

“Well, that’s interesting,” he mused to himself. “Noted. Superpower unlocked.”

He could use this. Tuck it away for the next time you were stressed out of your mind over school or overthinking everything, which—let’s be real—happened a lot.

Eddie shook his head, grinning, still absentmindedly playing with your hair.

“Guess I’m stuck here now,” he muttered. “You owe me one, sleepyhead.”

Not that he minded.

Eddie adjusted slightly, careful not to jostle you too much, but his arms stayed firmly around you. If he was being honest, he kind of loved this—having you curled up against him, completely comfortable, like he was your safe place. Not that he’d ever say that out loud, at least not in a way that would make you roll your eyes at him.

The trailer was quiet aside from the occasional creak of the walls and the distant hum of the TV from the living room. Wayne must’ve gotten home at some point, but he hadn’t come knocking. He never did when you were here.

Eddie figured he should probably wake you up soon, maybe tease you about how easily you crashed, but instead, he just stayed put, his fingers still tracing slow, mindless patterns along your back.

Then, as if proving you were fully out, a soft sigh left your lips, followed by a barely audible murmur.

Eddie stilled, blinking down at you. “What was that?” he whispered, his grin widening.

Silence.

But then you did it again—something too quiet for him to catch entirely, but your lips moved slightly against his chest.

Eddie bit back a laugh, knowing he should just let you sleep, but… come on. This was golden.

Gently, he shifted his arm, nudging you just enough to see if you’d react.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice dripping with amusement. “You talkin’ in your sleep now?”

You didn’t answer, obviously, but when he leaned down a little, resting his cheek against the top of your head, he could hear your breathing shift—like some part of you knew he was talking to you, even in your sleep.

Eddie smirked. “Lemme guess. You were dreaming about me.”

Still nothing.

“You were probably telling me how madly in love with me you are, huh?”

There was a beat of silence, and then, in the softest, sleepiest voice, you mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie grinned so wide it almost hurt. “Busted,” he murmured. “You totally were.”

But he didn’t push it. Instead, he pressed another lazy kiss to your forehead and let his own eyes drift shut.

Yeah, he was definitely stuck here for a while.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

in parallel universe, your favorite fictional character is real and you are fictional and he is reading fanfics about you, kicking his feet in the air and giggling.

I've had these stored, might as well start off 2025 in the most heinous way possible lmao

Satoru Gojo had a habit—one you had long since accepted, though it never failed to make you laugh. The moment he spotted you anywhere near a surface remotely suitable for lounging, he latched onto you like a lazy, overgrown cat.

“Satoru, I have things to do,” you protested as he draped himself over you, his long limbs completely engulfing you on the couch.

“Mm, no you don’t,” he murmured, pressing his face into your neck. “You have one job. And that’s being my personal pillow.”

His arms tightened around you as he nuzzled closer, his breath warm against your skin. He was impossibly warm, a human heater, and the way he clung to you like you were the only thing grounding him made your heart squeeze.

“You’re such a baby,” you muttered, running your fingers through his soft white hair.

“I’m your baby,” he corrected, sighing in bliss. “Now stop wiggling and let me love you.”

And just like that, your plans were forgotten. Because when Satoru Gojo wanted cuddles, there was no escaping.