Sukuna Will Make You Beg Before Helping You With Things He’s Obviously Good At.

Omg Mae Bae:

you said you wrote for Eddie Munson so totally ignore if not allowed! But I was thinking about Eddie not telling anyone you and him are dating and you stop by the Hellfire Club meeting on valentines Day and everyone is so stunned (maybe like a sunshine reader and Eddie!!)

Just picturing how stunned they'd all be hehe 💗😂

hi love! hope this is good ♡ wc: 470 | nav post - request guidelines

The familiar sound of laughter greeted you as you made your way down the now empty (and suddenly creepier) Hawkins High hallways, down to the theatre club room. The familiar smell of cheap beer and party chips lingered as you stood in front of the door. The "no disturbances, please" sign hung on the oak door didn't apply to you, of course, being the leader's partner, lover, whatever title you were to him.

You knocked three times on the door, something that was a code between you and Eddie. You could hear the muffled voices asking who it was as heavy footsteps seemed to come closer toward the door, you took a step back with a tupperware container in front of you, looking up and down the hallway.

The door barely cracked open, as Eddie grinned once he saw you. "What's the secret password?" He teasingly asks as you pretend think for a second. "You love me and will open the door?" You offer as he shrugs. "Close enough, it was sunshine. What're you doing here?" He questions as he opens the door, leaving it open as he wrapped his arms around your waist, about to pull you close before he noticed the container in between your bodies.

"I know you said your meeting was gonna hold late and I am totally okay with that, but I figured you and your boys needed more of a snack then party chips and soda. So, I made you something. Consider it part one of your Valentine's surprise." You smile, holding the container out for him. He doesn't say anything as he stares at them, before he smiles and places a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a soft kiss.

The romantic moment is spoiled by Garth and Mike letting out their surprise with "oohs". "Munson's got a lover!?" Jeff asks as Garth rolls his eyes. "Clearly. How come we never knew about it?" He asks as Eddie sighs. "They can never keep anything to themselves-" He begins to pull you into the room before you can protest interrupting their game.

"This is my partner not lover you idiot, Y/n." Eddie introduces as you smile. "Hi." You wave a bit, as Mike stares at you. "Wait, you're like.. one of the nicest people I've ever met. You're with him?" The Wheeler boy whose sister you'd known for years asks as you laugh. "Come on, Mike, you make it sound like he's not a good person." You note.

"Yeah, Mike." Eddie sticks his tongue out as you laugh. "Well, I'd better get going. I'll see you tonight?" You ask. He nods, giving you another sweet kiss and flipping off the other party members before you sneak out the door.

The teasing doesn't stop after you leave, especially when they notice his blushing.

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! shine on, shine on!

- mae:)

⊹₊⟡⋆ 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.

𝝑𝝔 an: cool bf sukuna and loser gf set in college or uni is a dream for me cuz im the loser yk :(( also if you have thoughts on this concept or wanna share anything else feel free to do so!!

cool boyfriend sukuna with a loser girlfriend!!

whenever you make a lame joke sukuna’s only reaction is to place his whole palm over your face and push it away as he just leaves. you can only whine and trail after him with a sheepish smile, knowing that he doesn’t really mind from the way he looks over his shoulder to check on you.

you utter something extremely dumb and sukuna thinks it’s his duty to hit you on the back of your head with a roll of his eyes, causing you to groan in pain and rub the spot with a sniffle. if he feels like he hit a little too hard he will tug you into himself and place a kiss on that spot with a quick apology, the corners of his lips quirking up when you beam at his words.

you’d make an exaggerated reaction to something and he is always there to mock the hell out of that small moment, ignoring your whines of how he’s not funny. when your hand pinches his forearm he stops and looks at you with a scowl, and you better run because sukuna will give back tenfold, no hesitation. though he will soothe the spots with rubs later that night because he is a softie like that.

he also likes to make you trip with his foot, he likes to hug you a little too tight so that it hurts and you start whining, he likes to tug at your hair whenever he gets a chance, he likes to shake the table to mess up your writing, likes to take your phone away from you and run to make you chase him because he knows you hate running.

sukuna is such a menace to you and you still love him and hang around and he adores it.

+ bonus!

imagine seeing other girls flirting with him when you’re about to approach him in the hallway, and sukuna notices from the corner of his eye how your mood cartoonishly changes from sun to a rainy cloud, shoulders slumping in defeat as you turn to go back and sukuna can’t help rolling his eyes as he pushes the girls away and catches up to you with rushed steps.

“what’s with the sour face?” he nods his chin with a smirk, knowing exactly what’s up.

you shake your head with a pout, looking down at your feet, and continue walking, but sukuna once again just rolls his eyes and quickens his pace to stop in front of you so you stumble into him. he makes sure that the girls from before see him clearly before he his fingers close around his cheeks and bring your face closer to place a soft kiss on your lips.

with wide eyes and a distressed expression, you stare at him in disbelief and sukuna can only shake his head at how cute you are before his face returns to his usual annoyed one, hand lifting up to flick your forehead roughly.

“ow! ‘kunaa~ what was that for?!”

“tsk,” he kisses the spot, hand on the back of your head to keep you close, “that’s for being dumb.”

my boyfriend eddie munson headcanons ☼

a terrible cook. but for some odd reason, a very solid pancake and waffle maker

has a phobia of rusted rings, therefore all his jewelry is stainless steel

has a backstory and name for each of his leather coats. there’s not many, he’s very picky about which belong in his collection

uses very established products on his hair. he begged you not to mention it again after you found them in his shower

makes it a habit to light incense

is an avid back to the future fan

michael j fox IS his man crush

cereal lover, particularly picks out the boxes with the designs and games for kids on them

“baby, you can’t have any more cereal,” “y/n, it’s the healthiest thing i eat”

very touchy, in the most heartfelt and loving way

longs to make up for the lack of it he never received throughout his life

strange fascination with race cars

you bought him nascar tickets for christmas

he took a polaroid picture of the ticket and stuck it to his wall

owns multiple picks and combs

has a lighter collection

his favorite lighter he purchased in panama

likes interlocking fingers when holding hands

talks you through it

consent is the most important thing to him

likes his hair being pulled, only by you

plans extra, extra hard on d&d campaigns - any free time goes to you or hellfire

once was involved in a fist fight with gareth because he assumed eddie put no work into the campaign

“have you even worked at this at all? we’re all here busting our asses day and ni-“ *boom*

sits like an inch away from the tv

“eddie, that’ll ruin your eyes” “your face will ruin my eyes”

likes to open doors for people, especially you

meets with a tutor every wednesday, makes sure to let you know when he’s heading there and when he’s heading home

he really, really thinks ‘86 is his year

has an affinity for you in tight clothing

really is a slut, but the gentle kind

has an exceptionally tight grip

loves colder weather- leather jacket season

let’s you borrow anything from his closet

he’ll get really excited if you ask to wear his hellfire shirt

“i’m sorry if it smells like booze, dustin knocked my can all over me”

loves whispering to you

usually it’s sweet nothings

most of the time it’s as you drift asleep in his bed, metal posters staring down at you from above

usually smells like eucalyptus and cigarettes- mixed with essential hair oils

actually has a really, really sharp memory

“i don’t even remember what i said to her to make her this mad at me-“ “you said she was lazy and that it was seeping into her day to day life and through to your guys’ friendship.” “eddie-“

picks you over anyone, sometimes even over hellfire

“get your ass to gareth’s. incase you forgot, we have rehearsal today” “i’m with y/n, you pack of dumbasses can wait”

keeps a box of polaroids of you under his bed

most are appropriate, some aren’t

dustin almost accidentally opened the box once

eddie slapped him hard across the hand, leaving a red mark

he instantly apologized profusely

“god, henderson i’m so sorry bout that- just don’t- just don’t open that box, alright?”

Writing Tips

Punctuating Dialogue

✧

➸ “This is a sentence.”

➸ “This is a sentence with a dialogue tag at the end,” she said.

➸ “This,” he said, “is a sentence split by a dialogue tag.”

➸ “This is a sentence,” she said. “This is a new sentence. New sentences are capitalized.”

➸ “This is a sentence followed by an action.” He stood. “They are separate sentences because he did not speak by standing.”

➸ She said, “Use a comma to introduce dialogue. The quote is capitalized when the dialogue tag is at the beginning.”

➸ “Use a comma when a dialogue tag follows a quote,” he said.

“Unless there is a question mark?” she asked.

“Or an exclamation point!” he answered. “The dialogue tag still remains uncapitalized because it’s not truly the end of the sentence.”

➸ “Periods and commas should be inside closing quotations.”

➸ “Hey!” she shouted, “Sometimes exclamation points are inside quotations.”

However, if it’s not dialogue exclamation points can also be “outside”!

➸ “Does this apply to question marks too?” he asked.

If it’s not dialogue, can question marks be “outside”? (Yes, they can.)

➸ “This applies to dashes too. Inside quotations dashes typically express—“

“Interruption” — but there are situations dashes may be outside.

➸ “You’ll notice that exclamation marks, question marks, and dashes do not have a comma after them. Ellipses don’t have a comma after them either…” she said.

➸ “My teacher said, ‘Use single quotation marks when quoting within dialogue.’”

➸ “Use paragraph breaks to indicate a new speaker,” he said.

“The readers will know it’s someone else speaking.”

➸ “If it’s the same speaker but different paragraph, keep the closing quotation off.

“This shows it’s the same character continuing to speak.”

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.

you cheer and clap from the stands as atsumu miya secures the last point of the game, finishing the set and winning the match for his team. the crowd roars, his school’s chant echoing throughout the venue. atsumu’s teammates pool around him as they celebrate their win, the boys forming a circle within themselves.

but his mind is occupied with the pretty girl he sees in the corner of his eye— you. he pulls away, muttering a quick “give me a second” to no one in particular.

he walks to you, head held high and he can’t help but puff his chest and shoulders a little bit. just a little.

“what’s a girl like you doin’ all alone?” he asks, and some of his teammates a few feet away yell. honestly, you’re not even sure if they’re cheering him on or booing him, but you do hear a whistle from behind.

light breaths of air escape your lips as you giggle, “i’m here for my boyfriend.”

and he scoffs, the smug bastard. “i don’t see him anywhere. looks like you’re all mine for tonight.” calloused hands reach over to you, his arms flexing subtly at the tenseness built up over the game.

“hmm, i don’t know…” you look down, swaying ever so slightly as you put up a bashful pretense.

the blonde laughs, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he traps you in an embrace. “you ‘nd your games,” he says, kissing your forehead.

you squeal and pull away to no avail, his large arms wrapping around you like a blanket. “you started it! ‘tsumu, you’re all sweaty!” you drag out the last syllable, half teasing. it was true, his jersey was halfway wet like he’d been caught in the rain.

“shhh, stop resisting. your boyfriend might see.” atsumu teases, all while continuing to pepper you with kisses. the noise from the crowd and his teammates are blocked out, atsumu’s world limiting itself to you and him only.

a pretty girl and a championship. looks like atsumu’s going home with two victories tonight.

bokuto post-match &&& ushijima post-match

Hello! Can I make a request for Satori Tendou?

Where Satori doesn't know how to handle his emotions when the reader is around. So she thinks that maybe she isn't to Satori's liking.

Sorry for the English, I use a translator.

- MIXED SIGNALS -

tendo x gn!reader

Satori Tendou wasn’t the type to get nervous. Not during matches, not when facing down a spiker twice his size, not even when he was being weird in public and people stared. He liked being unpredictable. He liked the way people couldn’t figure him out.

But you—you—were the only one who made his brain short-circuit.

And it was driving him crazy.

Every time you laughed at something he said, it felt like the sun was inside his chest, like he could float out of his skin and hover in the rafters. But when you looked at him too long, or smiled at him with that softness that made his throat go dry, something in him would retreat. Not out of disinterest—God, no—but because he didn’t know how to handle it.

So he covered it up with dumb jokes and awkward silences. Talked too much. Then not at all. And every time he saw your face fall just a little, he hated himself for it.

It wasn’t long before he noticed you pulling away.

You stopped showing up to his practice as often. When you were there, you kept your distance, always talking to someone else, eyes darting past him like he wasn’t worth lingering on.

It hurt in a way he didn’t know how to name.

At first, he thought maybe you were just busy. But then a week passed. Then two. And suddenly the gym felt colder without your warmth in it. His jokes or brainrot felt hollower. The team noticed too—Ushijima even asked if something was wrong, and Tendou just laughed, too loud, and said he must be coming down with a cold.

He knew he couldn’t keep pretending.

So one day, after practice, when the rest of the team had wandered off to change, he found you sitting alone on the bleachers, notebook in hand, legs swinging slightly. The fading sunlight lit your face in a way that made his heart thump painfully hard against his ribs.

He walked up, hands buried deep in his pockets, and stopped in front of you like a glitching program.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said.

Your head snapped up. “Huh?”

He gave a lopsided smile. “Dude you heard me.”

You looked down at your notebook, fingers tightening around the edge. “I just… I thought maybe I was bothering you.”

That stung. Tendou flinched, subtle but real. “Bothering me?”

You finally looked up at him, eyes vulnerable, confused. “You stopped talking to me. Stopped joking around. I thought maybe I’d done something wrong. Or maybe I wasn’t your type.”

His breath caught.

The words clanged around in his chest like a dropped bell. Not your type.

He sat beside you, but not too close—afraid he might ruin something just by existing wrong.

“You didn’t do anything,” he said, voice quieter than usual. “I just kinda… I suck at this.”

You tilted your head. “At what?”

“Feelings,” he muttered, then huffed. “You.”

You blinked. “You suck at me?”

He groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “That came out so fucking wrong.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up—small and startled. Tendou glanced at you, a crooked smile forming.

“I like you,” he said suddenly, like it physically hurt to keep the words in. “Like, a lot. But every time you’re near me, I get so… jumbled. It’s like my brain turns to mush or something. I don’t know how to act. So I end up being weird—well, weirder—and then I overthink everything and convince myself you hate me.”

Your expression softened.

“Satori,” you said gently, “I don’t hate you.”

“I know,” he whispered, eyes on the floor. “But I was scared you would if I wasn’t perfect.”

You reached over, resting your hand on his.

He went still.

“I don’t want perfect,” you said. “I just want you.”

Silence settled between you, heavy with unspoken relief.

“Even the parts that I act all dumb and shit around you?” he asked, voice rough around the edges.

“Especially those.”

He looked up, red blooming at the tips of his ears. And then, slowly, he grinned—a real one, toothy and bright and a little crooked.

“Okay,” he said. “But you should know—I’m going to be terrible at this.”

You leaned in, shoulder brushing his. “Chat we can be terrible together.”

“Ew don’t say that.”

“My bad twin.”

“DON’T SAY THAT EITHER.”

And for the first time in weeks, Satori Tendou felt like he could breathe.

(TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS FOR NO REASON)

I can’t sleep

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

No trigger warnings

WC:  0.7K

Another sleepless night. You have had trouble sleeping for as long as you can remember. Night terrors when you were a kid and now insomnias. Your boyfriend, Eddie, is sleeping soundly next to you. You, however, look at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. You know that if your boyfriend wasn’t asleep right next to you and holding you, you would have left the bed.

But you are afraid you are going to wake him up, so you stay in bed, being a very much awake little spoon. You hate nighttime because everyone is sleeping except for you. You are left alone with your thoughts, in the dark and silence.

At some point, you just can’t take it anymore so you try to delicately untangle yourself from Eddie, trying your hardest not to wake him up. Spoiler alert: it fails. As soon as your feet touch the ground, you hear shuffling behind you. When you turn around, you see your boyfriend tiredly rubbing his eyes.

“Go back to bed, Eds.” You whisper softly.

“What about you?” he asks, voice thick with sleep.

You shrug. “I can’t sleep.”

“You haven’t slept at all?” Eddie asks, concerned.

You shake your head in response.

“c’mere.” Eddie says, opening his arms for you.

“Eddie…” you protest. “You should go back to sleep.

“I want to help you fall asleep.” Eddie softly says.

“It might take a while…” you say, sighing.

“I don’t mind, I can’t sleep knowing that you are struggling.” Eddie tells you before pleading. “Please, let me help you.”

You nod and Eddie opens his arms again for you. “C’mere.” He says again.

You crawl into Eddie’s arms and lay your head on his chest.

“Tell me more about your sleep troubles.” Eddie says, trying to understand.

You shrug one shoulder. “Had them forever. When I was a little kid, I had night terrors. The older I got, the more it turned into insomnias. Maybe because I’m subconsciously scared to have night terrors.” You explain.

“Sweets?” Eddie asks, frowning.

“Yes?” you answer, raising your head to look at him.

“How many nights have you spent awake with me obliviously sleep next to you?” he asks.

“All of them…” you say. There is no point in lying, he knows about your sleep troubles now.

“Baby…” he coos. “You should have told me earlier. I would have tried to help or at least stayed awake with you.” Eddie says, ridden with guilt.

“Eddie… you need your sleep; besides, I don’t want to be a burden to you.” You argue.

“Sweetheart… I’m here for you at any time of the day or night.” He says enthusiastically.

“But I don’t want you to sacrifice your nights because of me.” You tell him regretfully.”

“I would sacrifice every night if it meant you can sleep peacefully.” Eddie says while scratching your head with one hand and your back with the other. You hum contently.

Eddie keeps scratching your heads and back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and telling you how much he loves you.

After fifteen minutes, Eddie feels your body fully relax.

“Baby?” he asks wanting to make sure that you are truly asleep.

When your only answer is soft snoring, Eddie chuckles to himself before softly kissing the top of your head. Eddie then falls asleep with your sleeping form in his arms.

That night, you have got the best night of sleep in forever. Even as a child you never slept this peacefully.

Eddie scratching your head and back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear or even reading you a bed time story became a routine for the two of you. Every night, this little routine help you fall asleep. And whenever you are night terrors, which is less and less frequent, Eddie is here to comfort and reassure you. He always starts the process of rubbing your back and whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you fall asleep again. Step by step your sleep schedule is getting better, and it is all thanks to Eddie. You have never felt as safe and peaceful than you do with him and Eddie is glad he could help.

Taglist : @abellmunsonmovie

kento’s favourite noise is hearing your wedding rings clink together.

it’s a soft sound, not a harsh wobble of metal or the screech of a steel sheet cut in two, but like the ripples of water interrupted. it is delicate and brief; a perfect clink. when kento hears it, he sees pink.

clink it goes when kento reaches for your hand when you wake up in the morning, half asleep and head buried deep inside your pillow. he can’t see your face, so he reaches for you instead. his gold band clinks with your more delicate gold ring. it feels softer than cashmere and the yarn of your crochet projects.

clink it goes when you pass him back the spoon he handed you to taste test dinner. the food is hot from the pot and blown carefully by him. it’s a recipe an older woman from the grocery store gave to kento. apparently, her husband would make it for her, so now kento will cook it for you. struck by humour, he didn’t tell you about his encounter until your first few bites into dinner. you choked, tears streaming down your face. kento would make more for you, to which he would receive a reluctant “thank you” and a glare as piercing as cotton balls. you’d never known a love so quietly overwhelming until you met him.

clink it goes when you lightly slap his hand when he’s being silly. kento’s straight line mouth (which you lovingly stroke until he smiles), bursts into the shape of a lemon slice. he can’t help but make you squirm. he likes the little dance you do, your high-pitched “stop it’s” and “you’re so weird, kento’s”. it’s almost as sweet as the clinking of your rings, but somehow, it’s unmatched.

look at you. you’ve conditioned him to associate your love with the clinking of your rings. how dare you.

kento’s favourite noise is hearing your wedding rings clink together.

just finished the hardest design studio i’ve done so far for school :’) i’m still in school but hopefully i can start posting again. sorry for the silence