I Just Really Need Best Friend!Eddie To Have That Rom-com Moment Of Clarity Where He Realizes He’s

sorry,I had to do this,my mental illness told me to

when you die, gojo is still in denial. they say there are five stages of grief, yet he still hasn't been past that first phase. he misses it a lot. your touch on his skin. the way you'd trace random lines on his thighs when you were so indulge in a book. and that sudden grip whenever you came across a thrilling part of it. he always chuckled at your sudden "whats" and "awws".

he misses how your voice would always get gentler when you spoke to him. your usual voice was a little loud but whenever you spoke to him, you'd be so sweet and calm.

he misses how you'd outshine anyone and everyone around you. even him. the strongest. your smile was brighter than the diamond on your engagement ring. but life is unfair, isn't it? he was so excited to turn you from his fiánce to his wife, only to find you dead and cold on the ground, the crimson blood filming the diamond, drenching it in itself.

but to this day, even after so many years, he still finds himself in denial when he accidentally (to what it seems like a hundredth accident) calls you his wife mid conversation with someone else. "oh my wife loves this...perfume," he says to the worker, his voice fading in the end when he realizes he was supposed to use past tense. "loved"

"why don't you gift it to her? i am sure she'll love it," the girl smiles. if only she knew.

but he buys it anyway. decorates it with pink ribbons and stuff, even when he knew you were not there to open it anymore. he comes home, sits in one dim light of the bedroom, unwrapping it. he sprays the perfume on one of your dress that he loved. your scent. god he misses it. the cerulean eyes mimic an ocean once again in the wait of his lover. a useless wait for you were never arriving on his door ever again.

Thinking of how clingy Tsukishima Kei can get when he goes to you after his training…

He has to have his hands all over you in an innocent way, he just wants to be pampered after his exhausting volleyball training. He won’t actually say he wants to be pampered, but its his body language. He’s around you more than usual, absentmindedly tracing lazy circles on your hip, he holds your hand, and he’s more vulnerable.

“Is this too much?” He murmurs quietly as he hugs you, he feels like he’s gonna melt under your warm embrace. “Mm-mm, its okay.” You pause, rubbing his back, “Do you wanna talk about how your day went?”, “Maybe later.. I think I’ll just stay like this for a while.” He tightens his hold on you just right, just because the guy’s desperate for affection, doesn’t mean he won’t be considerate. He doesn’t wanna crush you, after all.

He can get used to this, and you can too.

Too little, too late

Eddie’s bedroom.

The world didn’t end, he graduated and his room is still as messy as ever ♡

friends-to-lovers with eddie

cw: reader has body image issues

"scoot over."

"sorry, i'm too cozy," you grin smugly at eddie, wrapped up in fluffy blankets with your head perched against both of his only two pillows.

"it's my bed!"

"yeah, and it's real comfy, thanks. did you get the snacks?" you bat your lashes up at him.

"you are impossible," he rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance, even though he eats it right up.

"but yes, you know i got 'em." he says, setting down the bowl of buttery popcorn on his nightstand before pulling the scrunchie from your wrist that hangs off the bed.

he wears a cropped black sabbath tee with sweats- the ones he always catches you staring at him in, so of course he smirks when your doe-eyed gaze inevitably lands on his happy trail...and follows up his strong inked biceps...to his pretty ringed hands that tie his hair back..

"want me to grab your phone? a picture'll last longer." he winks, pulling back the covers and bulldozing his way in next to you.

"very funny," you scoff, hiding your heated cheeks against soft worn cotton.

he gets you both settled and cozy, spooning you while you prop up your laptop making sure it's in a good spot for the both of you to see.

"still don't get why we can't just watch this on the tv. this screen is tiny in comparison!"

"oh hush, just trust me. it's a cozy experience, okay? all we need now is for it to start raining outside. then it'll be complete." you smile back at him.

"whatever you say, sweetheart."

and he would make it rain for you if he could.

you press play and shuffle your hands back under the covers, giddy in your contentment.

curious music begins playing as your selection of coraline starts up into the opening credits.

eddie smiles, happy in your joy, he reaches for the popcorn bowl and offers to feed you some "open up, get it while it's still hot." he pops a small handful into your mouth.

"thanks, eds. it's good."

"yeah?" he asks, not waiting for confirmation as he starts munching on it himself.

"let me know when you get thirsty." fuck, she has me whipped, he thinks to himself.

"okay," your voice mellows as your head falls heavier against the shared pillows. "are you comfy?" you ask him.

"yeah, sweetheart, i am." his voice is low.

"'kay," you let out a long sigh, molding closer to his body.

his hand rests carefully against your hip while he rests his chin atop your head, peering at the screen.

domestic bliss even though you're 'just best friends.' yeah, right.

"you like it so far?" you ask him thirty minutes in.

"yeah- it's quirky and creepy, i dig it."

"good. i thought you might."

he looks down and smiles, although you can't see it.

his hand that rested on your hip cautiously moves to your stomach, and before he does what he hopes you'll let him, he asks you "this okay, sweet girl?"

"mm-hmm." you respond, even though you don't know what he plans on doing.

tingles light throughout your body as he lets out a deep breath against your neck. that pretty ringed hand your were gawking at earlier gently presses and then grabs at your soft tummy.

you gasp but let yourself feel the emotions it causes. he's not judging, not criticizing- just feeling another part of you. a part you'd been so against anyone else ever seeing out of fear.

it also feels good to let someone hold you there. an area you'd been self conscious about for ages, only for eddie to swoop in and love on. it felt even more delicious knowing how much he enjoyed it as well.

"you're so pretty, you know that?" he whispers against your ear, sending another burst of tingles to sweep through you.

"i love your pretty body. your tummy-" he reaffirms, rubbing back and forth across the skin before pulling you closer into him, "your pretty face, pretty thighs, pretty arms..pretty much everything i could want."

you don't respond verbally, except for a small groan as you attempt to hide your face in the pillows.

"don't you go hidin' on me," he teases, "you're perfect. most perfect girl f' me, and i wouldn't change a fuckin' thing, baby."

he taps a finger under your chin, signaling for you to look at him. and as soon as you do, his curls are curtaining your face as you feel the soft press of his plush lips against your own.

"eds," is all you can whisper between kisses as he continues his lovin' on you.

bliss bliss bliss.

the forgotten movie plays until the end, long after you'd turned to face you body towards him, burying your head into his chest, and let out a few long-held tears.

the background starts to fill with the sound of the rain as it begins prickling against the roof, when you raise your head to look up at eddie; lovesick eyes shine back down at you.

"hi," he smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"i think you're perfect, eddie. thank you for giving me room to grow, and making me feel safe enough to be me," you stroke at his palm.

"you're always safe with me, beautiful. i want you just as you are." he reassures.

"for now, get some rest, okay, sweet girl?"

"okay," you hum, nestling back against him as the rain and his hold on you soothe you to sleep.

Forgetful wifey

Sukuna was growing more and more irritated by the second. For two whole days, you had been without your wedding ring, and it seemed like you hadn’t even noticed. Two days. He had been watching, waiting for that moment of realization, but it never came. Instead, you carried on with your life as if nothing was amiss, smiling, laughing, and going about your usual routine.

It drove him mad.

As if the world wasn’t already full of pests trying to hit on you even when you had the ring on, now it was like you’d put out an open invitation. Every man in sight seemed emboldened by your bare hand, and Sukuna had to physically restrain himself from going on a rampage.

At first, he figured you might have just misplaced it. You always took it off while showering, careful not to lose it, and maybe it had slipped your mind. He tried looking in all the usual spots—the bathroom counter, the kitchen sink, even your makeup desk. Nothing.

“Where the hell did she put it?” he grumbled, slamming one of the drawers shut a little too hard.

By the end of the second day, his patience was razor-thin. You were sitting on the couch, scrolling on your phone, completely oblivious to his brewing frustration. Sukuna stood in the doorway, arms crossed, staring at you like you’d committed some kind of heinous crime.

“You’ve got some nerve, you know that?” he finally snapped.

You glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your ring. Where is it?” His tone was sharp, almost accusatory.

“Oh,” you said nonchalantly, setting your phone down. “I took it off when I was showering the other day and forgot to put it back on. Why?”

“Why?” he repeated, incredulous. “You’ve been walking around for two damn days without it, and you’re asking me why?”

You tilted your head at him, confused by the intensity of his reaction. “It’s not a big deal, Sukuna. I’ll just go grab it and put it back on.”

“Not a big deal?” he growled, stepping closer to you. “Do you have any idea how many bastards have been looking at you like you’re single? Like they even stand a chance?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, which only made him more irritated. “Sukuna, no one is going to think I’m single just because I forgot my ring for a couple of days.”

“Oh, they’re thinking it, alright,” he muttered darkly. “And they’re damn wrong. You’re mine.”

Shaking your head, you stood up and wrapped your arms around him, trying to soothe the temperamental man. “I’m always yours, ring or no ring,” you said softly, resting your head against his chest. “I’ll go put it on right now, okay?”

He let out a low growl, still clearly annoyed, but his arms came around you instinctively. “Damn right you’re mine,” he muttered. “And don’t take it off again, or I’ll tattoo my name on your hand if I have to.”

---

That’s what gave you the idea. You had always been a bit forgetful—so forgetful that you once forgot your own name during an introduction. Sukuna loved to tease you about it, but you knew it frustrated him sometimes. Especially when it came to something as important as your wedding ring.

You decided to put his mind at ease once and for all. Heading to the tattoo shop, you smiled as you explained your plan to the artist.

“A tattoo on your ring finger, huh?” the artist asked, giving you a knowing grin. “Man, your husband must really love you to get under your skin like that.”

“Oh, he loves me, all right,” you replied with a laugh. “But he’s also ridiculously possessive, and I’m just trying to save us both some stress.”

The process was quick but meaningful. On your ring finger, the artist inked Sukuna’s name in elegant script, followed by your wedding date in small, delicate numbers. It was simple but perfect—a lasting symbol of your bond that couldn’t be misplaced or forgotten.

When you got home, Sukuna was pacing in the living room, his arms crossed and his expression brooding. He immediately turned toward you when you entered, his crimson eyes narrowing.

“Where the hell were you?” he demanded. “Don’t tell me you were out there without your ring again.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Relax, Suku. I was doing something for you.”

“For me?” His suspicion deepened, but he stayed where he was, watching as you walked over and held up your left hand.

“Ta-da!” you announced, wiggling your fingers. “Problem solved.”

It took him a second to process what he was seeing. His name and your wedding date were permanently inked on your finger, right where your ring should be. His eyebrows shot up, and his jaw clenched in surprise.

“You… got a tattoo?” he asked, his voice low but intrigued.

“Yup,” you said, grinning. “Now you don’t have to worry about me losing my ring or forgetting to wear it. You’re literally on me forever.”

For a moment, he just stared at your hand, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow, smug grin spread across his face. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand closer to examine the tattoo.

“Well, damn,” he muttered, his thumb brushing over the ink. “You actually did it.”

“Of course I did,” you said. “I’m nothing if not practical.”

He let out a short laugh, the pride in his voice unmistakable. “Practical, huh? Nah, this is you admitting that you’re mine forever.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. He tugged you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist as he leaned down to kiss you, his lips curling into a smirk against yours. “Like I’d ever forget. But good luck getting rid of me now, princess. You’re stuck with me.”

Hey Emmy hey Emmy listen

Whenever you’re having a snack or whatever osamu leans over with his mouth open expecting a bite and he calls it “boyfriend tax”

HE CAN PRY MY FUDGE BROWNIE FROM MY COLD DEAD GRIP-

You get so into the routine with him that when you take a chip out of the bag or unwrap your candy bar, you just immediately turn to give him a taste, laying the chip on his tongue while he chews happily.

Sometimes, to mess with him, you don’t give him a first or second bite of your cookie, and you hear him whine softly and gently wrap his fingers around your shirt, tugging the hem of it gently for your attention. If you continue to not listen, he whines your name softly, and you blink mindlessly at him, “yes? Can I help you?”

“Boyfriend tax, remember?” He says, opening his mouth.

You snicker, “I remember. I just don’t feel like paying for it.” You stick your tongue out playfully, and he pouts.

Then, his brows raise, “wait, c’mere baby, you’ve got some crumbs on your lip.” You lean over for him to wipe the crumbs free-

Only to dart his head down to your hand holding your snack and take a massive bite.

“MIYA OSAMU!”

He’s immediately out of his seat and making a break for it, cackling the whole time.