You Can Only Think Of One Way To Describe BOKUTO KOUTAROU.

between you and your husband, you were the one more…vocal about your love for him. leaving him sweet notes with doodles of the two of you in his lunch, ending all heartfelt messages with x’s, planting a big kiss on his cheek that he pretended to cringe at but in reality he looked forward to it everytime he left the house.

people would always come up to you, telling you that he doesn’t reciprocate his love with words and such and asking you how you dealt with it. truth be told it took a while for you to get used to but soon enough you began to see the signs.

it was the way that every time he got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom he would tuck your feet back into bed. the way he spent a solid twenty minutes cleaning your phone screen, and with furrowed brows as he placed your new screen protector on, making sure there were no bubbles. it was when you opened his wallet that you saw all the notes you wrote him saved in one pocket of his shitty leather wallet that was begging to be put to rest. it's the way when you come home after a long night out with your friends he takes his time undressing you, removing and placing your jewelry carefully on your bedside table and making sure to gently take off your makeup and of course do your skincare routine that he has memeorized. when he goes out and he spots a little something with your favorite character on it he buys it immediately, not bothering to look at the price tag because the way your eyes would light up when he brought home the little gift was worth more than a billion dollars to him.

it was when on your third month anniversary when the two of you were still dating, while the two of you sat down on the booth next to each other at a restaurant he held your hand and squeezed it three times. signifying the words, i love you. he knew he loved you from the start but was scared it was too soon to say it and this was his silent way of telling you so. and you picked up on it quickly when he started to do it more often.

and on your wedding day, as the two of you stand in front of all your loved ones and the officiator he says the most beautiful vows ever, telling you that "if death do us part then i hope to find you in every lifetime" and once he ended with that sentence, he squeezed your hand three times. i. love. you.

you always knew your husband loved you because his actions spoke a thousand words to you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜

sigh. TSUKISHIMA FREAKING KEI!!!!!!!!, akaashi keiji (he writes notes back to you), KITA. SHINSUKE., iwaizumi hajime (30) athletic trainer, suna rintarou, USHIJIMA, kageyama tobio (squeezed your hand a lot when you started dating), MIYA OSAMU, sakusa kiyoomi, OH OH OH AONE!!,

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.

"cold feet (literally)" - spencer reid x fem!reader

you wake up in the middle of the night to get a pair of socks

wc: 1k

cw: reader is described as wearing a bra, sickeningly sweet fluff, two idiots in love

Spencer keeps his apartment climate-controlled at a brisk sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. He likes to be cold, he says, and you generally don’t mind. You run hot anyway, so if, on the off chance you do get cold when you’re lounging around on his couch or perusing his bookshelves, you grab one of the throw blankets Garcia’s knitted for him and wrap it around your shoulders. 

Tonight is different, in that you were not planning on sleeping over. Your relationship with Spencer works so well, in your opinion, because you both like to be independent, so rather than be with each other every moment of every day that he’s home, you orbit around each other like planets. You spend many evenings over at his place, and he spends just as many as yours, but eventually, the other person goes home. 

Not that you didn’t like sleeping in the same bed as Spencer, of course, but the relationship was still fresh, and you both liked that you were taking things slow. Tonight, however, you started a movie with him rather late, and by the time it was over, you were bleary-eyed and your bones felt laden. Spencer was more than willing to offer you the empty side of his bed for the night. 

You arrived in sweatpants and a t-shirt, so you just took your bra off and laid down. Spencer splurged on a fancy orthopedic mattress, so you somehow both sunk into it and rested on top of it like a glass on a table. It was insanely comfortable, and both you and Spencer really were wiped out, so you went right to sleep. 

When your eyes flutter open a few hours, you’re laying on your side. The first thing you notice is that the room is not completely dark. No, in fact, there’s a stream of moonlight, or maybe a street lamp outside, creeping in through the curtains, casting a soft, gray-filtered glow over the room. 

You feel Spencer’s hand loosely on your hip, and his knee resting lightly against the back of your thigh. Your immediate reaction is not to move for fear of waking him, but your feet are icicles. The air around you is cold, too, but the blankets remedy that. You just need socks. 

I am molasses, you coach yourself, moving languidly and carefully to rise into a sitting position. However, you lack the FBI stealth training needed to rise out of bed without waking your boyfriend, because when you look over your shoulder, his eyes are very clearly open. 

There’s a tired yet playful little smirk as he sits up, leaning against the headboard. “Sneaking out already?” he asks, his voice still rich and thick with sleep, and you suddenly wish you’re able to see him like this more often. Maybe this whole going home to go to sleep thing is simply for the birds. 

“No, of course not,” you laugh softly. The mattress creaks as you finally stand up, your bare toes spreading against the soft carpet. As you pad over to his dresser, you shoot him a performative smile over your shoulder. “My feet are just freezing.” 

“Do you want me to adjust the thermostat?” Spencer asks immediately, shifting the blankets off of him so he can, presumably, get out of the bed. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you insist, holding up your hand. He stops in his place. “It’s just my feet, Spence,” you assure him. The cherry wood creaks when you tug the top drawer open, plucking the first pair of socks you see out off the top. 

Spencer’s mismatched socks are meticulously organized in their correct pairs, as it turns out. You smile to yourself when you realize this means he takes the time each day to couple up an incorrect pair of socks before putting them on his feet. 

You select a pair of purple ones with little kiwi fruits printed on them, affection for the ridiculous man in bed behind you bubbling up in your chest, making it feel as if it’s filled with helium. Like you could float up to the ceiling at any moment. 

You’re still smiling stupidly as you perch yourself on the edge of the bed. You slide his socks over your bare feet, wiggling your toes around for a moment. “Why are you smiling, angel?” Spencer’s asking curiously, and you feel his foot nudge your back. 

You lie back down in the bed, shaking your head softly as you lay on your side and place your head against Spencer’s chest. He takes a second to adjust, slinking down so he’s lying flat on his back, then he tugs you a little closer. 

Your cheek rubs against the soft, worn fabric of his t-shirt. You place your palm down against his flat tummy, and consequently feel his chin press into the top of your head. “What is it?” he asks again. 

“I just think you’re the bee’s knees, that’s all,” you say softly, earning a small chirp of a laugh from your boyfriend. 

“The bee’s knees, huh?” he rakes his fingers through your hair slowly. The action is lulling you like straight melatonin, making you even more tired. “Did you know that phrase actually used to mean something small and insignificant? Over time it developed to refer to something or someone that is greatly admired.” 

You close your eyes, your body relaxing against him as he speaks. “Do bees even have knees?” you ask through a yawn. 

“Technically speaking, no,” Spencer brushes his thumb along your temple, then across the top of your ear, as if he is charting all the smooth parts of you. “But they do have a ball-and-socket joint between their leg segments, which allows them the flexibility to move their little legs around. So when they dance to show their hive mates where the good honey is, they move their legs around.” He laughs softly at this notion, and you feel your weight sink into the mattress. 

“You make me want to dance,” you whisper, smiling with closed eyes against his chest. “So, you’re the bee’s knees.” 

Spencer hums fondly in response to this, then kisses your forehead. “That’s kind of a reach, angel,” he says. “But I think you’re the cat’s pajamas, so who am I to judge?”

miya osamu has long accepted the fact that the girl he loves is a crybaby.

when he and atsumu met you as kids you were crying alone in the playground as your friends left one by one.

when you entered middle school with them you cried when you found out you were in separate classes.

when he gifted you a necklace he had worked hard for to buy you cried so hard you got snot all over his shoulder.

when you atsumu made you so mad you cried in his arms as he comforted you.

when you and atsumu left hyogo for tokyo, you cried begging him to call you everyday.

when you were feeling lonely in college you cried on the phone with him and cried when he finally found the time to visit.

you cry over the smallest inconveniences, anything that made you feel happy, had you feeling mad, excited, surprised, anything.

so it's no surprise to him that it's taking you so long to finish your vows because of crying so hard.

all formalities are forgotten as he pulls you in his arms, swaying you gently as you finish the last of your vows. family, friends, and guests are forgotten ones he cries with you as he reads his vows written on a tissue paper.

"I whole heartedly promise to love you, comfort you and cry with you even if death separates us and even in our next life. i'd love you now and forever and until the next life that i'll share with you."

Eddie hugging himself because he doesn’t know what affection feels like.

until he meets you, who is so goddamn clingy when you hug him that he nicknames you “my little sloth”.

Too little, too late

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.

"𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝙊𝙉𝙇𝙔 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂?!" w/jjk men !!

Gojo, Geto, Yuji, Megumi and Choso! TW: implied fem reader on megumi's, reader has pink bows!! "Men only want one thing, and it's disgusting," which isn't true at all because Gojo Satoru wants nothing more than to yap with you over a box of kikufuku mochi. The way you let him talk your ears off and still agree with him makes him feel like the only man in the world, and he loves you for that. "Men only want one thing, and it's disgusting," which isn't true at all because Geto Suguru wants nothing more than to cuddle with you and sleep after a long, exhausting day of exorcising curses. He wants nothing more than to kiss your perfect face right before you drift off to your slumber.

"Men only want one thing, and it's disgusting," which isn't true at all because Yuji Itadori wants nothing more than to watch movies with you. Front row or not, at the theater or at home, your favorite movie or his, it doesn't matter. For him, any movie is a 10/10 if you're watching it with him.

"Men only want one thing, and it's disgusting," which isn't true at all because Megumi Fushiguro wants nothing more than for you to run your fingers through his hair and play with it. He pretends he doesn't like it when you clip his hair with one of your pink bows, but you can see him blushing. "Men only want one thing, and it's disgusting," which isn't true at all because Choso Kamo wants nothing more than for you to sit on his lap and trace the marking on his nose bridge. No, it doesn't turn him on; it just makes him feel childishly and sweetly giddy, and he can't help but smile.

So... Request.. or recommendations request.. I'm all in my feelings and need some Eddie comfort while you're dealing with a bad time of the month.

Aww, period comfort always warm my heart! Thanks so much for the request, lovely!

Eddie x fem!reader

cw: mention of reader’s period

You never considered your periods to be bad, but this month’s definitely was. The pain was almost unbearable as you laid in your bed, curled up with a heating pad while your favorite comfort movies played on your TV on repeat.

You didn’t want to bother Eddie with your problems, but he had insisted on coming over with your favorite snacks along with some pain reliever and some movies he had rented from Family Video that he knew you liked. Your relationship was still fairly new so he was still trying to figure out the whole how to be a boyfriend thing.

Once he got to your room, he laid behind you and rubbed soft circles around where your cramps were, trying to relieve any pain and it helped to some degree, but not much. You were honestly just happy to have Eddie there, knowing that he was right beside you, bringing you comfort.

He rested his head on your shoulder and moved his hands to your sides, knowing that that was there you got your worst cramps and you turned around his arms, wanting to face him. He just gave you a sympathetic smile before pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“It hurts, Eds,” you whined and he nodded, not completely understanding what it felt like but sympathized because he knew that you had a high pain tolerance.

It was times like those where he wished he could take your pain and give it to himself so you wouldn’t have to endure it anymore. He hated seeing you like that, so unlike yourself, so fragile. He almost felt helpless, unsure if he was actually doing anything that was making your feel better, but trying his best.

“I know, baby,” he cooed. “What do you need? How can I help?” Those were always his questions during that time of the month, being nothing but caring and helpful. He wanted to do whatever he could to make you feel better even if what you wanted from him didn’t necessarily work.

Eddie flipped onto his back and took you with him, causing you to straddle his waist, knowing that sitting like that was always helpful to your cramps. His hands rubbed up and down your back as you laid your head on his chest, resting your hands on each side of your head.

The position wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was definitely preferable to the almost debilitating pains you were feeling all over your body. Especially your stomach. Having it pressed against Eddie’s relieved a lot of the pressure that you were feeling laying on your side and you wondered how he always knew what you needed before you did.

“Better?” He asked, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Much, thank you.” You let out a contented hum and you snuggled closer to him, finally feeling comfortable enough to fall asleep. You drifted pretty quickly and Eddie continued to lazily draw patterns along your back as you slept, knowing that it always helped you sleep.

You woke up from your nap, unsure of what time it was, but considering that it was now dark outside, you knew it was night time. How long had you slept? And why didn’t Eddie wake you? Apparently he thought you needed the sleep.

You removed your head from Eddie’s chest to see that he had fallen asleep as well, soft snores falling from his lips. You watched him for a second, admiring how at peace he looked and wondered if you looked that cute when you slept.

His eyes slowly opened and he gave you a smile, which you returned. He then pulled you in for a kiss before resting his forehead against your own, his eyes boring into yours.

“I love waking up and seeing you here.” Your heart melted at his words, loving that he was able to just say what he was feeling, not holding anything back.

“Me too,” you nodded. You could see it all, the two of you getting married and buying your first home together. Feeling so in love with each other that you decide to start a family, two kids who race into your room in fits of giggles as they climb onto your bed, snuggling up with you and Eddie. It sounded so perfect, like a dream.

“Think I could do it every morning and never get tired of it.” You felt the exact same way.

“Eddie, are you asking me to marry you?” You joked, but he wasn’t laughing.

“So what if I am?” What were you going to do? Say no?

“Then I’d have to accept.” You pressed a kiss to his lips them laid your head on his shoulder, hoping and praying that he’d buy you a ring to make the proposal real.

Eddie being clingy

“Jus’ let me love on you!” your boyfriend whines, voice muffled from his face buried in your chest.

You let out a small laugh, hand tangled in his hair as you gently scratch his scalp back and forth - not exactly trying your hardest to coax him off of you.

“I’ve gotta get up, Eds. Gotta get ready.”

“Just staaay. No point in going out in the rain when you could be snuggled up with your man - I’ll keep ya warm n’ safe, babe,” he briefly lifts his head to flash you a grin, hoping to convince you to remain in bed with him.

“I don’t know baby, I’d love to, but I have a lot to get done today.”

He only presses face into your chest harder.

You slightly lift your back and arms in an attempt to stretch out, which he takes as your way of moving him off of you - he immediately moves to cage his arms around you, holding you into place.

“What, I can’t stretch now?” You laugh.

He doesn’t respond, but slightly crawls himself up and rests his full weight on your body, causing an oomph to escape you.

He makes himself at home by nuzzling into your neck, arms latch around your shoulders as his soft hair presses against you.

You smell the spicy musk of his faded cologne, and let out a soft hum, content, as you return your hand to rub his scalp.

Good luck getting him off of you now.

He groans, and you feel the soft, bulbous tip of his nose drag and press into your neck on and off, his stubble gently scratching against you. Whatever he was doing had him a very happy man.

“Whatcha doin, handsome?” You giggle.

“‘M just, appreciating my girl. Smell so good baby, ‘n your skin’s so soft. What do you expect me to do?”

“You’re kinda precious, you know that?” You giggle.

A few minutes of gentle silence pass, when you feel his hand snake up your shirt and grab at your tummy. He taps his fingertips in random patterns and rubs the skin up and down, tracing your bellybutton, until he lays his warm palm flat against you. He surprises you when you suddenly feel his teeth on your shoulder, giving you a brief but firm chomp.

“Eddie!” You squeal.

“Sorry, you’re just so pretty,” he whispers, palm finding the side of your face and cradling it. He lifts up his head to kiss up your jaw, meeting your lips in a soft kiss, pleading for you stay in with him today.

“Will you stay home? I’ll cook for you and dote on ya, real nice. Make sure you know how perfect you are f’ me.”

You let out a soft sigh, “well, you’ve twisted my arm. Can’t say no to you, Eds.” You smile.

“That’s right,” he grins, knowing he’d get what he wanted, “love my pretty pretty girl.”