Fix You

Fix You

Sypnosis - You'd only known her for a flicker of a moment, but in that moment she had become everything to you. To have her ripped away without so much as a moment to process, it was only inevitable that everything would come crumbling down.

Pairing - Suguru Geto x ! Female ! Reader

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, canon JJK violence, main character death (not Reader), allusions to suicide, unresolved angst, loss, guilt, slight canon divergence

Word Count - 8.2k (I am so proud of every single word)

Author's Note - This piece might have taken YEARS off of my expected lifespan, but what can I say, I live for the angst.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“Just be safe, yeah?” you say with a smile on your face, smoothing your hands over the shoulders of Geto’s uniform. His expression mirrors your own — a soft smile curling the corners of his lips upward as he gazes at you.  

“Yeah, promise,” he responds, nodding his head at you. Your smile momentarily widens, the smile lines on your face indenting deeper. You push yourself onto tiptoe, pressing a gentle kiss against Geto’s cheek. 

The moment is then immediately soiled by a loud, fake retching sound from a certain snowy-haired male. Both you and Geto turn — the latter already biting back the sarcastic quip that rises in his throat.  

“Do I get one too?” Gojo asks, crossing his arms dramatically over his chest as he swaggers to you and Geto, craning his neck and jabbing his cheek in your direction. You giggle, removing your hands from Geto’s shoulders — which he nearly protests — and instead you lay your palms against Gojo’s cheeks.  

“Dramatic ass,” you tease, then laying a kiss against Gojo’s cheek before you shove him away. He sticks his tongue out at Geto as he stumbles, who only rolls his eyes.  

“Come on Satoru, I don’t want to be out all day,” Geto complains, glancing up at you. You smile, nose scrunching in that way that always warms Geto’s chest — he fights the urge to kiss the small wrinkle in the bridge of your nose.  

“Yeah, yeah, m’coming,” Gojo waves off Geto’s rushing, turning his head to flash you one last smile before he jogs to catch up to Geto’s side.  

“(Y/N) is gonna have a field day chewing us out,” Gojo complains, tilting his head back and letting out the dramatic sigh that he had been holding in his chest. Geto nods in agreement, turning his head just enough to cast a glance over his shoulder.  

Riko is still rambling on about all of the things that she wants to do, which mainly includes the simplistic aspects of life. She had already voiced to both Geto and Gojo that she wanted to live life normally — and she had also voiced her want to not constantly be followed by both males.  

Geto can’t help the smile that curls the corner of his lips upward, silently watching as Riko speaks in a manner similar to that of an animated character, spreading her arms wide and smiling brightly at Kuroi, who watches the young girl with softened eyes.  

“Yeah, but she’ll be more than happy to help with Riko,” Geto points out, turning his attention back to his scowling best friend. Gojo sighs, the force of his breath blowing his bangs from his eyes. “Better that she deals with Riko than us,” he adds with a wiggle of his brow, an action that pulls a breathy yet dry chuckle from Gojo’s throat.  

“True,” Gojo hums in agreement, lifting his hands to place them palm flat against the back of his neck. He turns his head, glancing at Riko for a fleeting moment before he turns back to face forward. “D’you think Riko will like (Y/N)?” 

“Who doesn’t like (Y/N)?” Geto answers quickly. His jaw snaps shut, cheeks blazing a light shade of pink as he realizes what it was that he had just said. Gojo catches him, but he bites back the sarcastic quip though he so desperately wants to dish it out. “Shut up, let’s just head back.” 

< … > 

“Y’know, I’m glad that you and Satoru are taking the vessel — sorry, Riko — on a little getaway. It’s sweet of you both,” you say with a smile, leaning back against your pillows. On the other line, Geto lets out a small chuckle, the sound bringing a bout of butterflies to your stomach — God, you were smitten with your boyfriend.  

“Not really sweet. We’re doing it because she asked for it,” Geto responds, turning his head to glance at both Riko and Gojo — both of whom were bickering for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He rolls his eyes with a grin on his face, returning his attention to his phone call with you.  

“Still, the fact that you both agreed to it is sweet enough,” you tease lovingly. Geto grins at the smile in your voice, wishing that he could see it. “Maybe I can convince Yaga to come with you three.” 

“Please,” Geto breathes, closing his eyes. He chuckles breathily after speaking, glancing once more at Riko and Gojo before he faces forward again. “I don’t know how much more of their bickering I can take.” 

“I’ll talk to him in the morning. You three get some sleep, ‘kay?” you say softly, and immediately Geto wants to protest — he doesn’t want to hang up just yet. It had been days without seeing you, the most he was able to do was video call you, but even that wasn’t the same as being with you physically.  

“Okay,” he relents, his shoulders sagging slightly. “G’night baby.” 

“Night Sugu, I love you.” 

“I love you more.” He removes the phone from his ear, pressing his thumb against the red hang-up button and turning on his heel to face both Riko and Gojo. “C’mon, (Y/N) said for us to get some rest before tomorrow.” 

Gojo snaps his jaw shut at the mention of your name, turning to face Geto and completely forgetting about Riko — who stares at the snowy-haired male with her jaw slack. But her anger over being ignored dissolves quickly into curiosity. She had heard that name several times already — (Y/N).  

“Who’s (Y/N)?” Riko inquires, tilting her head and crossing her legs on top of the blankets of the motel’s bed. She rests her hands palm flat against her legs, her gaze flickering between Geto and Gojo — both of whom exchange a glance that almost says, “We don’t want to say anything.” 

“(Y/N) is-“ 

“(Y/N) is Suguru’s girlfriend,” Gojo answers with an indifferent shrug, playing off the stern glare that Geto immediately shoots in his direction. Riko’s eyebrows raise — she certainly hadn’t expected that to be the response. She had expected “sister” or “cousin”, but certainly not “girlfriend.”  

“Girlfriend? You?” Riko points a finger at Geto’s chest, her eyes narrowing momentarily at him. In response, Geto slowly nods at her, not knowing what to make of the expression on the teenage girl’s face. “I’m shocked.” 

Gojo snickers, slapping a palm over his mouth and turning away so that Geto wouldn’t notice him laughing. Geto turns, glaring first at Gojo before his eyes snap back to Riko, who tries — and fails — to hide a smile of her own.  

“You’re both hilarious, now go to bed.” 

< … > 

Have you spoken to Yaga yet? 

Sent : 11:40 

Yeah, I just left his office. He said as long as we lay low, there isn't an issue with me joining you. 

Sent : 11:41 

I'll send you our location then. 

Sent : 11:42 

Okay babe! See you soon &lt;3 

Sent : 11:42 

Geto smiles quietly to himself, trying to hide the curl of his lips from Gojo and Riko – not that he had to try very hard. Gojo and Riko were, like usual, busy with bickering with one another over God only knows what. Kuroi, bless her soul, is trying her hardest to settle the arguing – but to no avail.  

"Hey, Satoru," Geto calls out, effectively stopping the childish arguing between Gojo and Riko. The snowy-haired male turns at the call of his name, speeding up his steps to fall into line with Geto. He furrows his eyebrows together, silently urging Geto to continue speaking. "Yaga approved the request for (Y/N) to join us. She'll meet us here in Okinawa." 

"Thank God," Gojo says, casting a sharpened glare in Riko's direction – which Riko responds to by sticking her tongue out. She crosses her arms over her chest, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little excited to meet you.  

“She’ll be here sometime in the afternoon, so you’ll have to occupy yourself until then,” Geto teases, chuckling as Gojo punches him in the shoulder. Riko watches on, feeling herself smile at the interaction — maybe being stuck with these two wasn’t as bad as she had made it out to be.  

And maybe you were even better. 

&lt; … > 

“(Y/N/N)!” Gojo calls out, his hands cupping over his mouth as he spots you in the distance. He lifts his hand in a wave once your body turns, eyes falling on him.  

You easily make your way over, beelining for both Geto and Gojo. Your arms lock around Geto first, smiling widely as his arms wrap firmly around your waist, lifting you from the ground. 

You crane your neck to look down at Geto, your hands moving to hold the sides of his face as you guide his lips to yours, kissing him sweetly and smiling against him.   

It’s the dramatic retching and spitting that makes you pull back from Geto — and of course, Gojo is doubled over pretending to vomit.  

Geto sets you down, still holding your hips as your head turns to glance at Gojo. Shaking your head, you roll your eyes, scoffing at the male’s behavior.  

You turn back to Geto, choosing to ignore Gojo’s theatrics in favor of sweetly reuniting with your boyfriend after however many days it had been since he’d first set off from Jujutsu Tech.  

“Hi,” you whisper, scrunching your nose at him as you smile. This time, Geto leans in to kiss the bridge of your nose, laughing breathily when he pulls back and catches sight of your flustered expression.  

“Hi baby,” he smiles at you, chuckling as you move to bury your face into his shoulder. His hand tangles in your hair, fingernails scraping lightly against your scalp — the action has you curling further into him like a cat. 

“Wow, so I don’t get a hello at all?” Gojo calls out dramatically, throwing his hands into the air and pouting childishly, crossing his arms over his chest.  

Your groan of protest is caught by the fabric of Geto's shirt, the rumble of your chest against his own bringing a soft smile to Geto's lips. You disconnect from Geto's arms, turning on your heel and opening your arms to Gojo – which he runs into without a single ounce of hesitation.  

"Satoru!" You can't help but bite back the laugh that bubbles up in your throat as Gojo all but tackles you to the ground, nearly knocking you off of your feet from the force at which he runs at you. You let out a hearty laugh the second that his body knocks into yours, your feet lifting from the ground as Gojo messily spins you around in a fashion similar yet not to Geto.  

"Thank God you're here!" Gojo loudly complains, his voice just as dramatic as it always had been. You smile widely, holding tightly onto Gojo's neck so that you wouldn't fall to the ground.  

"Alright Satoru, calm down," Geto says sternly, reaching a hand out and grasping his friend's shoulder. The touch prompts Gojo to set you down. You smile in thanks, nodding once to Geto before you finally notice the unfamiliar face that stares curiously at you – the Star Plasma Vessel.  

Your eyes soften as you gaze at her – she was much younger than you had expected, at least two or three years below you. Following your gaze, both Geto and Gojo step out of your way, allowing you and Riko to meet on your own terms rather than accidentally forcing you both into conversation.  

"Hi, I'm (Y/N)," you say with a kind smile, extending your hand in Riko's direction and waiting patiently for her to take it. Relaxed, the young girl smiles right back at you, folding her hand into yours and joyously shaking it.  

"Hi! I'm Riko," the girl bubbles, her smile seemingly widening as you release her hand. You have to admit, seeing her so happy, even given her situation, was heartwarming in a way that you couldn't put into words. You chuckle gently at her, then shifting your attention to the older woman that stands at Riko's side – she eyes you with a mixture of curiosity and hesitance.  

Riko follows your gaze, glancing at Kuroi and smiling as her gaze and attention returns to you. "Oh! That's Kuroi," Riko introduces the older woman, gesturing warmly to her in a way that has you assuming she may be Riko's mother or older sister – or something of the like.  

"It's nice to meet you Kuroi. I'm (Y/N)," you reintroduce yourself, extending your hand in Kuroi's direction. Her eyes flicker down to your outstretched fingers, eyeing them with a raised eyebrow. You understand her hesitation – you were nothing but a stranger to her after all.  

With a gentle nudge from Riko, Kuroi shakes your hand, offering you a shaky smile – one that you reciprocate kindly. "It's nice to meet you as well." 

The moment that Kuroi's hand leaves yours, Riko is quick to hook her arm into your own, gently tugging you in the direction of the shops that Geto and Gojo had previously promised that they could visit. You let out a small chuckle, allowing yourself to be dragged away by Riko, who immediately begins to talk your ear off about just how annoying she found Geto and Gojo. 

"Good to see that they get along nicely," Kuroi comments fondly, placing a hand palm flat against her chest as a soft smile curls her lips upward. Geto nods in agreement, watching yours and Riko's retreating figures with softened eyes. 

"Come on, you and I both know that (Y/N) is gonna make me pay for everything," Gojo complains, his voice carrying its usual dramatic whine as he drags his feet to follow you and Riko. Geto and Kuroi chuckle in response, following Gojo.  

< … >  

"You care about her," Geto says suddenly, his eyes flickering to you as you sit quietly on the beach beside him. With a grin, you curl your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself and watching as Riko and Gojo chase each other through the ocean's shallow end.  

Your eyes soften as you watch Riko kick water up at Gojo, laughing loudly as he tries to shield himself (mostly his hair) from getting wet – always the dramatic one.  

"Yeah," you whisper, turning your head and leaning your cheek against your knee, your gaze meeting Geto's. He stares back at you with warm eyes, that which crinkle at the corners as his lips tug upward. His hand extends, a finger running lovingly along your cheek. For a moment, absolutely nothing else matters – not the mission, not the Star Plasma Vessel, not anything.  

All that matters is that you're with Geto.  

You nuzzle lovingly into his affectionate touch, actively seeking more of it – which Geto is more than happy to provide. His finger is replaced by the palm of his hand, thumb swiping at the area just underneath your eyes. "It's sweet, you know." 

"Oh shush, you're going soft for her too," you bite back teasingly, smirking as Geto removes his hand from your cheek. You whine at the loss of contact, but you continue to smirk at Geto nonetheless. He rolls his eyes playfully at you, his gaze momentarily flickering to catch a glimpse of Riko and Gojo – both of whom are still chasing each other around the ocean's shoreline.  

"Not true," Geto attempts to retaliate, but the light pink hue of his cheeks immediately gives him away. You lift a finger, poking one of Geto's burning cheeks and smirking again at him.  

"Sure about that?" 

"Oh shush," Geto chuckles, placing his palm flat against your face and playfully shoving you away. Your laugh is caught by his skin, breath fanning against his palm. He smiles as he removes his hand, feeling his heart warm at the sight of the smile plastered onto your face.  

"Hey! Lovebirds!" Riko calls out, cupping her hands over her mouth and smiling as she waves at both you and Geto. You turn your head to her, laughing as she places her hands on her hips. "Are you just gonna sit there the entire time?" 

You grin at Geto, kissing his cheek fleetingly before pushing yourself to stand, closing the distance between yourself and Riko and placing your hands into her awaiting ones. She drags you gently into the water, laughing as you gasp at the cold water that licks at your ankles.  

Suddenly, a spray of cold water hits your back. With a squeal, you turn to look at the culprit, positively fuming as Gojo stands proudly behind you, knelt in the water with his hands raised in the air. You glare at him, snapping your fingers and smirking to yourself as the water surrounding Gojo raises to his height, then completely dousing him in freezing saltwater.  

Riko laughs, crossing her hands over her stomach and doubling over to follow the force of her laughter. You turn your head to smile at her, heart swelling at the sound of the young girl's laughter.  

< … >  

"What's Jujutsu Tech like?" Riko inquires curiously, falling into step with you as you walk ahead of Geto, Gojo, and Kuroi, all of whom had opted to remain a few steps behind you claiming that they were remaining on the lookout for any potential threats.  

You hum in thought, folding your hands behind your back as you allow yourself to get lost in the scenery that surrounds you – thickened trees and hanging branches providing you with shade that is a welcome contrast to the blazing sun. You smile, tilting your head just enough to glance at Riko through your peripheral.  

"Well, to us, it's like any other school. But to you, I'd assume it'll look like a castle," you respond jokingly, not failing to notice the smile that curls the corner of Riko's lips upward. She lets out a small giggle as she walks beside you, mimicking you and looking around at the trees that line the pathway to Jujutsu Tech's front entrance.  

The silence that hangs over both you and Riko is comfortable, comfortable enough that she sidesteps towards you and affectionately knocks her shoulder against your own. You smile, turning your head to look at Riko, who only returns your smile just as brightly.  

"Maybe somewhere else I could have gone to Jujutsu Tech with you," Riko mutters, her voice almost too quiet for you to hear. Her words tug at your heartstrings – in a way, you felt guilty that there was no real solution that you could offer. Her sole purpose was to serve as a vessel for Tengen, and it was your job to deliver her to Tengen so that he could continue...whatever it was that he did.  

You swallow the lump in your throat, not knowing what to say. You had honestly wished for the same thing – maybe in some other universe you and Riko would have been able to attend school together. Maybe you would have trained her to become a strong Jujutsu Sorcerer. Maybe.  

Softly, you reach out to interlock your fingers with hers, squeezing at her hand and willing yourself to smile at her. She returns it, though both of your lips are trembling with a deepened sadness. "Maybe. Don't think like that though. I'm glad we were able to spend time together in this one." 

Riko's smile trembles slightly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. You chuckle breathily, reaching out with your thumb to swipe at her lash line, catching the tears just before they're able to fall. "Yeah," she agrees quietly, nodding her head at you.  

"We're almost there," Geto calls out from behind your back, smiling softly at you as you turn to acknowledge him. You nod curtly, then returning your attention to Riko, who had squeezed your hand as you walked beneath the entrance archway.  

"You ready Riko?" 

Riko inhales deeply, feeling her worry ebb away as you squeeze at her fingers again.  

"Yeah." 

< ... >  

"You okay?" Geto's voice is almost too quiet for you to hear, but your ears perk at his whisper nonetheless. You turn your head just enough to glance at him, blinking past the tears in your eyes as you silently watch Riko bid Kuroi farewell, squeezing at her caretaker and sobbing quietly into her shoulder.  

You swallow the lump in your throat, lifting your hands and swiping your fingers against your eyes, not wanting to cry. Geto softens at your actions, letting out a small sigh through his nose – but he says nothing about your concealed tears, if anything, he understands.  

"Yeah, m'fine," you murmur in response, forcing yourself to smile as Riko turns then to you, tears rolling down her cheeks as an aftermath to saying goodbye to Kuroi. The young girl quickly closes the distance between you, wrapping her arms around you and burying her face into the crook of your neck. 

You sigh shakily, holding her tightly against you and resting your cheek against the side of her head. Her body shakes against your own, her tears staining the shoulder of your uniform – but you cannot care any less.  

"Can you walk in with me?" Riko whispers into your shoulder, keeping her voice low enough so that only you can hear what she says. You feel yourself shakily smile, your arms momentarily squeezing around her.  

"Of course," you whisper back, smiling as she disconnects herself from your arms to return your teary smile. "I'd never make you go in there alone, especially not with Suguru," you tease, both you and Riko sharing a tear-filled laugh as Geto loudly protests over your shoulder – but he smiles all the same.  

The moment is soiled then by the remembrance of what you had come down to Tengen's for. You release your hold on Riko, opting instead to gently hold her hand as Geto begins to lead the pair of you down to Tengen.  

The three of you walk in relative silence, Riko holding tightly onto your hand as she walks at your side. Every now and then, she sniffles softly – a sound that tugs at your heart the more that you listen to it. You squeeze at her hand as reassuringly as you can, offering her what you hope is a gentle smile – but even you know that the tremble in your lips is on full display.  

Geto walks a few steps ahead of you and Riko, his hands stowed away in his pockets as he listens both to your trembled breathing and to Riko's soft sniffs. He would never admit it aloud, but he too felt as if Riko had taken on a younger sister role in his life – even though she had entered his life as nothing more than a package to be delivered. And he would never admit it aloud, but he somewhat wanted Riko to refuse the assimilation.  

If not for his sake, then he hoped she would refuse for yours.  

"Well, here we are," Geto says suddenly, stopping and looking down at Tengen's barrier. You and Riko stop at his side, hands still intwined as you both peer curiously around the room. Riko lifts her free hand to her eyes, swiping away the stray tears that lingered on her cheeks before she turns to you.  

"I-I think I'm ready," she stutters out, swallowing the scared sob that claws at the base of her throat. You soften, turning momentarily to make fleeting eye contact with Geto, who only stares at both you and Riko with a softness that felt similar to that of a loving husband and older brother.  

You nod at Geto, turning to Riko and removing your hand from her own and opting instead to place your palms flat atop her shoulders. You stare at her, and she returns your gaze with a curious pinch to her eyebrows.  

"Riko, I want you to listen carefully to me. You don't have to do any of this. We could easily forget this assimilation entirely and go back to Kuroi and Satoru. Hell, I'll even take you back to Okinawa so that we could finish shopping together," you laugh through your tears, which roll freely down your cheeks. Riko stares back at you, slightly stunned.  

"All you have to do is say the word," you whisper.  

Riko swallows, feeling tears build in the backs of her eyes. Her rosy cheeks darken, her eyes crinkle, her lips tremble – she's on the verge of tears all over again.  

Her eyes fall shut, her mind mulling over your words. Did she really want this assimilation? Or was she doing it simply because that's what everyone wanted her to do? 

"I want to be with everyone longer," she pauses to hiccup, "I want to see all kinds of things and just do more!" 

You smile softly at her, removing your hands from her shoulders and holding your hand out to her – just like you had done that day you met her.  

She reaches for you, her lips turned upward in that soft smile that you had grown oh-so-fond of.  

BANG! 

Riko's body crumples to the side, falling to the floor with a dull and lifeless thud. You freeze, hand still extended, fingers twitching in waiting – still waiting for Riko's. Your eyes widen, mind unable to process anything but the incessant ringing in your ears.  

At your side, Geto stands stiff as a board, his expression almost a perfect mirror of your own. His eyes wander down to Riko's body, gaze fixating itself on the steady stream of blood that pours from the bullet wound to the side of her head. Her eyes are open in everlasting shock, one final tear rolling down her face before it grossly mixes with the blood that surrounds her.  

Your eyes shift only when you hear footsteps approaching, gaze flickering upward to watch as an unknown man strolls into the room, knocking the handle of his gun against his head. A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, an amused glint to his tired eyes.  

He doesn't say anything immediately, instead waiting to close the distance between himself, you, and Geto. The arm that holds his gun lowers to his side, and in a fit of mock curiosity, he tilts his head to the side.  

"That was easier than I thought," he comments offhandedly, glancing between Riko's body and you. Your shoulders rise and fall in heaving breaths – breaths that you're unsure are heavy because of anger or sadness. You want so badly to rush the man and give him hell, but something holds you back from doing so.  

Geto reaches out instinctively, moving your body behind his own protectively as the man draws closer. You let him – the ringing in your ears is strong enough to hold all of your attention. Your eyes return to Riko, praying that maybe – just maybe – she would stir and sit up. You could take her right back to Okinawa, and everything would be right again.  

"(Y/N), get out of here," Geto says quietly, his voice nothing but a muffled buzz in your ears. You nod numbly at him, sidestepping around his body and making a break for the exit. You know that it's wrong – how blindly you listened to him and left him with someone that could potentially end his life.  

You screw your eyes shut as you sprint down the hallway, feeling tears finally sting your eyes as the realization of what had happened seeps into the cracks of your mind. You'd failed. You had failed everything. You promised her that you'd protect her, that you would take her back to Okinawa, that you would show her the world that she had been so scared to lose.  

A harsh sob rips from your chest as you skid to a stop, doubling over and placing your hands on your knees. Underneath the weight of your guilt, you crumble. Your knees strike the ground as your hands grip at your chest now, clawing at the fabric of your uniform as if it suffocates you.  

You bow your head down, gritting your teeth as your body shakes with the weight of your sobs. Your hair shades down over your face, creating a veil around it and preventing anyone from looking directly at you. Your lips part, and from the deepest depths of your throat, you scream.  

< … > 

Hey baby, Shoko was asking for you. 

Sent : 12:06 

Saw a cat outside a coffee shop today, thought maybe you'd want a picture of it. 

Sent : 15:00 

Left you some dinner outside of your door, please eat something. 

Sent : 04:17 

Movie night tonight?  

Sent : 06:15 

Pressing two fingers against the side of your phone, you silence it, then tossing the device as far away from yourself as you can. The clatter of the phone against the floor does little to stir you – the comfort of your sheets was stronger than any Cursed Energy, and you'd be damned if you were leaving it.  

How long had it been since that day anyway? 

Days? Weeks?  

Hell -- it could have been months. In truth, you didn't know. The days had started melding together a very long time ago, everything felt the same – nothing was new. Everything felt bleak, like an old movie that you had accidentally left on perpetual repeat.  

You turn over in bed, facing the wall. Your eyes feel heavy, but the moment that you close them you know exactly what it is that you'll see. You'll see whatever wisps you have left of her.  

Do you even remember what she looks like anymore? 

Your chest tightens at the realization, and instinctively your body curls inward. Your knees touch your chest as you adjust yourself into a fetal position, screwing your eyes shut and biting back the sobs as they rise in your throat.  

There wasn't a day that went by where you didn't blame yourself. You were a Sorcerer, you were quite literally trained to protect the people around you. But no, you were so focused on convincing her on a situation that she was already decided on – you failed to protect her because of your own selfishness.  

God forbid you had lifted your head, even if it was just to sneak a peek at the rest of Tengen's barrier. Would you have spotted him? Wait, of course you would've – Geto had once complimented your ability to keep your head on a constant swivel.  

You could've activated your Cursed Technique, you were always the swiftest of your classmates. You could've saved her – Riko would have been fine.  

But you didn't do any of that. Instead, you held her shoulders and tried to play mother dearest. It was your tear-filled monologue that got her killed.  

"Fuck," you mutter, the dull ache in your chest deepening as you spiral into a pit of your own regret. Your hand comes to bunch up the fabric of your shirt, clawing at it as if it were choking you. "'M sorry..." 

You can feel yourself beginning to cry, but your body is unable to produce a fresh round of tears. You whimper quietly, lips parting to release the soft sobs that you had been forcefully holding in your chest. The sheets that cover your shoulders shake in sync with you – but they continue to serve their purpose in keeping you concealed from the world. 

Across your room, you can hear your phone buzzing against the ground. Suguru. 

How long had it been since you last saw Suguru? 

It felt like you were punishing yourself, keeping yourself holed up in your room and limiting your interactions with anyone – Gojo, Geto, and Shoko felt more like figments of your imagination. They felt like strangers to you. And in a way, maybe they were.  

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at your door. The ringing in your ears dies down, leaving you alone in the silence of your room – you almost wish for the ringing to come back. Any noise was better than none at all, and with the way your mind had been whispering lately, you'd rather an incessant ring.  

You turn your head halfway, yet you don't move from the familiar comfort of your bed.  

"(Y/N)? Baby, it's me." It's Geto. Fuck, it's Geto. 

You don't answer, shifting back to your original position and sighing shakily. Even though every part of you wants to open that door and promptly collapse into his arms, you force yourself to remain rooted to your place. You force your eyes shut, praying that your silence would turn him away.  

"It's been – God – I don't even know how long it's been. We're – I'm worried about you," Geto pauses, likely to swallow the growing lump in his throat, "I just want to know if you're okay." 

Your lips wobble, and for the first time in days you feel the familiar sensation of tears sliding down your cheeks. Your hands curl around your sheets, tugging them impossibly further around you.  

On the floor, your phone buzzes again. For a moment, you wonder just how many unread messages you have. How many were from Gojo? Or Geto? Or Shoko? Or maybe you were just imagining the sounds, maybe they really didn't care at all.  

"Please open the door." He sounds so desperate, so broken. The fact that it was your fault that he felt so helpless only added to your already debilitating guilt and regret. Your punishment was making everyone else suffer – you were the reason why everyone was worried. Selfish, selfish, selfish. 

And you want to. You want to stand from your bed and open the door, you want to fall into Geto's arms and sit with him in nothing but that comfortable silence that always followed you when you were with him. You craved it – or rather you craved the normalcy of it all.  

Selfishly, you don't. You close your eyes and telepathically will Geto to just leave. A little part of you hopes that he won't, but the rest of you wants him to.  

You know that he won’t leave though — knowing Geto he was definitely sitting with his back against your door, waiting patiently for you to either respond or let him in.  

A shame that you would do neither. 

Your hands curl into white-knuckled fists with the strength of your grip, keeping your eyes glued shut and praying — no — hoping that Geto would just leave you to rot.  

“Y’know, we can talk about whatever you’re thinking about.” 

You sigh shakily, opening your eyes and staring blankly at your wall. He’d never leave you to rot, even if you shoved and begged him.  

Talk? What would talking do? Would it bring back the piece of you that was ripped from your hands and shattered like nothing? 

Your body turns halfway, ears pricked and patiently waiting for Geto to continue. Shockingly, you want him to keep talking. It’s a nice distraction. 

“I don’t know what exactly you’re thinking right now, and I know that you definitely don’t want to delve into it,” Geto pauses to exhale shakily — it makes you wonder if he’s out there crying. "I want to help you, you've helped me through so many rough patches and the fact that you're not letting me help you now...it's killing me." 

Go. 

Your hands push at your sheets, the cool air from your dorm hugging at your exposed legs. Your body cracks as you stand from your bed, but you ignore the dull ache in your bones. The distance between your bed and the door once seemed like a never ending hallway, one with twists and turns that would throw you off course and make you return to the starting point.  

Oddly enough, now that distance seems much shorter.  

You walk across your room, stepping past your phone on the floor and pausing just as you reach the door. You stare silently at the wood, eyes drifting down to the doorhandle. You were so close, if you just lifted your hand- 

"I love you so much (Y/N). So please, let me help you." 

Your eyes fall shut, body curling back from the door. With invisible hands, your sheets call out to you, beckoning you sweetly to return to what was familiar – back to square one.  

You shake your head, turning on your heel and lowering yourself to the floor, your back sliding down the door until you're sitting on the floor. Your knees curl up to your chest, arms winding around them in a self-hug as you lean your head back, listening quietly to Geto's shaky breathing on the other side.  

< … > 

Bzzt. Bzzt. 

One year. 

You stare blankly down at the reminder, thumb quickly jerking to delete its existence. It had been a miracle enough that you'd made it six months – a year didn't really feel real to you. Not yet at least.  

You knew deep down that it would sink in later, when you weren't surrounded by people and when you were sitting in the twisted comfort of your own sadness. But now, you had to act like a person, not a puppet who just happened to wear human skin.  

In front of you stands Gojo, Geto, and Shoko. For the better part of an hour, Shoko had been trying to teach both boys about her Reverse Cursed Technique, wanting them to be able to heal themselves so that she wouldn't have to exert herself every time that they returned from missions.  

But just like everything else that they did together, Geto and Gojo were about as intelligent as two monkeys attempting to complete a Rubix cube. In any other circumstance, you would have laughed at them and teased them endlessly. 

Now? 

Now you stared blankly at them, eyes devoid of anything that might have rendered you human. All of those sleepless nights had finally caught up to you, claiming your body like a demon would its unfortunate host. You wanted to crack a smile, prove to them that you had healed somewhat since everything had happened – but they knew just as well as you that it would be another one of the many lies spoken by your tongue.  

"C'mon Shoko, you know we can't do this," Gojo complains loudly, his voice an incessant whine as he leans forward, glancing over the rims of his glasses to send a playful glare in Shoko's direction. She rolls her eyes at him, hands holding her hips as she waves a finger in his face.  

"Would you stop complaining?" Geto retaliates, reaching a hand over and whacking the back of the snowy-haired male's head. He yelps at the contact, both of his hands cupping the back of his head.  

"Ow! (Y/N), come and control him!" Gojo turns to you for salvation, but pauses at the expression on your face. Your lips are downturned in a half-frown, eyes staring at nothing in particular. He glances at Geto, who had also turned to look at you.  

"(Y/N)?" he calls out to you. His voice has your head shaking, bringing yourself back to reality and breaking you from whatever trance you had fallen victim to. "Everything okay love?" 

You're quick to nod, sending Geto what you think is a smile – but it resembles more of a poor attempt at a smirk. "Fine," you answer quickly. His heart sinks, he wants so desperately to take every bit of pain that you constantly shouldered, but you were so adamant on dealing with everything on your own that he had simply...stepped to the side.  

Shoko claps her hands together, effectively redirecting all attention to herself – an action that you were thankful for. It was one thing to be constantly doted on by your boyfriend, but to then drag in both of your best friends? Saying that you felt like a complete burden would be the understatement of the century.  

Gojo turns his attention back to Shoko without a second thought; he had never been good with emotions, and watching your downward spiral was something that he just...couldn't help with. He wanted to, God, of course he wanted to. But he lacked the understanding of how to do it.  

Geto is hesitant to turn around, not wanting you to think that he was turning his back on you. The last thing that he wanted was for you to suffer in silence, even though that seemed to be the one thing that you wanted. No, he loved you far too much to let you crumble to your own demons. So he gripped his sword in his hand and fought them at your side – no matter how much you kicked and screamed at him to go away. 

You sigh shakily, teeth catching your bottom lip as the reminder from your phone flickers across your memory again. One whole year.  

Even with a whole year having gone by, that regret and guilt still followed you like a stray dog. The moment that you muttered to yourself, "I'm okay," that dog would nip at you with a force that sent you crumbling to the ground.  

You look upward, blinking away the tears that burn the backs of your eyes and focusing all of your attention on the trio in front of you.  

< … > 

“What do you mean (Y/N)’s gone?” Geto asks with an incredulous raise of his eyebrows, looking at Gojo as if he had sprouted another head.  

Gojo inhales deeply, bracing his hands on his knees as a result of sprinting so wildly at Geto once he had heard news of your sudden disappearance.  

“(Y/N) left. Shoko said that she tried to get her to stay, but it was no use,” Gojo says breathlessly. Geto shakes his head, not wanting to believe anything that Gojo was saying — but the expression on his face douses Geto with the cold reality that this was really happening. You were gone. 

“Where did she go?” 

“No idea, she didn’t say a word,” Gojo answers, taking a mental note of the unbridled worry swirling in Geto’s eyes. “We’re going to look for her, right?” 

“What do you think?” Geto says in a matter-of-fact tone, already striding past Gojo. The snowy-haired male is quick to follow, falling into step with his best friend. 

The silence that hangs over the both of them is tense, neither of them wanting to say anything to the other in fear of further souring the mood.  

Geto’s teeth catch his bottom lip, digging down into the supple flesh. His mind wanders, thinking of where you could have gone and just what you could be doing. He should’ve done more to help — he should’ve been there for you just as much as you had been there for him.  

How had he let you spiral down that far? He felt like a bystander in a situation where he should have been standing right at your side, he should have been holding your hand just as tightly as you had always held his.  

“Hey, there you are,” Geto says softly, smiling so gently at you as you open your door — finally revealing yourself to him after hiding in the shadows for however long.  

You remain silent, rubbing a hand over your tear-stained cheeks. Your eyes, so dead and tired, flicker up to meet Geto’s — which soften upon studying your clear cut exhaustion.  

“Oh sweet girl,” he whispers, opening his arms to you and embracing you tightly as you step into them. Your face buries into his shoulder, absorbing the familiarity of his hug. “I’m here.” 

Your body shakes as another round of sobs wracks through your body, nails biting into Geto’s back. He ignores the stinging sensation your nails leave behind — focusing everything on making you feel comforted.  

“I’ll go look this way, you’ll be okay on your own?” Gojo confirms, casting one last glance over his shoulder at Geto.  

The dark-haired male nods, his focus solely on finding you and bringing you home. He would be damned if he would leave you alone again — you deserved to have someone to comfort you in the same way that you constantly comforted others. 

“Text if you need me ‘kay?” Gojo says, reaching out and lightly pressing his knuckles against Geto’s shoulder. The latter nods, and just like that the tuft of snowy hair disappears into the surrounding crowd.  

As Geto walks, he once again allows his mind to wander — thinking about little warning signs that he overlooked. Maybe there was something that you said or did that had a double meaning, yeah, that had to be it.  

His eyes glaze over with unshed tears as he desperately searches for you among the unfamiliar faces, all of them a blur as he tries to find you. All he wanted was to bring you home, give you the proper help that you so desperately needed.  

If he could just- 

“(Y/N)!” There. There’s that head of hair that he had once spent hours playing with. It turns upon hearing the call of his voice — it really is you. 

But at the same time…it isn’t you. The (Y/N) staring at him feels different to the (Y/N) that he asked out in the serenity of his school dorm.  

This (Y/N) is cold and dead — a walking corpse at best.  

You stare blankly at Geto for a moment, eyes silently asking him what it is that he wants from you.  

“Hey, what’s going on?” he practically begs, bravely reaching out to hold your wrist, preventing you from curling away from him.  

Your eyes momentarily flicker down to his hand, staring at the strain of his fingers before your gaze returns to his — you don’t fail to notice the tears he holds back. You felt awful that you were the reason why he was crying. 

“Nothing’s going on,” you answer indifferently. He shakes his head at you, you were lying.  

“You can’t really be saying that. You’ve been…you changed.” 

“Have you ever stopped to think about why?” you raise an eyebrow at him, voice suddenly laced with a venom that he had never heard from you before. Slowly, his grip on your wrist loosens until he doesn’t hold it anymore, eyes never once leaving yours even as you focus on other things.  

“What?” His voice is breathy, a whisper. He doesn’t understand, why were you suddenly being so brash with him? He had only been trying to help you all this time — right? 

You remain silent, not knowing how to elaborate without getting emotional all over again. You were a Sorcerer, you were meant to protect. The one person you were meant to protect was gone. And now you could barely live with the consequences.  

But Geto just thinks that you’re in mourning. No, no, it’s so much more than just simple mourning. 

“Have you ever stopped to think about why I changed?” you reiterate, tilting your head at Geto. He steps forward, keeping the distance between you both as short as he can — he can’t lose you, not again.  

 Geto mulls your question over in his head, which he then shakes in response. You let out a small sigh through your nose, already feeling that familiar mixture of regret and sadness building in your stomach.  

“Do you know what it’s like — to regret everything that you’ve ever done in your life?” you mutter, glancing up at Geto. For the first time, he notices just how dead you truly look. Those bright eyes now dull, your cheeks sunken in, your lips permanently turned downward in a frown.  

“Sorcerers are meant to protect people, right? We’re meant to step in and help the ones that can’t help themselves,” you begin, finding your footing and finally vomiting out all of the words that had been building up somewhere in your stomach.  

Geto watches silently, not knowing what to say or do. All he can do is listen.  

“What the fuck are we meant to do when we can’t save everyone? The ones who can’t protect themselves die, and what are we left to do?”  

Geto pauses, realization sinking into his bones. Riko. You blamed yourself for what happened to Riko — how the fuck had he not noticed that before? 

He had somewhat of an idea that it was Riko who had caused you to spiral downward, but he didn’t know that it was her death that had turned your entire opinion of being a Sorcerer.  

Just how much had Riko meant to you? 

“You and Satoru might be okay shouldering that guilt. But I’m just — I’m not,” you say honestly, running your hand through your hair and chuckling dryly. Geto steps forward, reaching for you.  

You step back, effectively creating a distance between the two of you. He falters, silently watching.  

“(Y/N)-“ 

“Be a Sorcerer, yeah?” you glance tearfully at him. For the first time in months, you smile, lips turning upward as you nod at him. “Be the protector that people need you to be.” 

Geto shakes his head, stepping forward again and silently begging you to come to him. 

You don’t. 

“Baby. Stop. Just-“ He pauses as he watches you, noticing your body tilting back to follow your backwards steps. 

“Be the shield that people need Suguru,” you whisper, voice barely audible over the footsteps that surround you. He shakes his head again, fingers extending to you. 

Like a wisp in the night, you vanish into the crowd. Geto’s fingers close around nothing, and his eyes desperately search for you amongst the blurred faces. 

But you’re gone, just like that. 

And he would never see you again. 

Everything was perfect. 

"You may kiss the bride." 

Your rosy lips turn upward in a lovesick smile, arms lifting to wrap around Gojo's neck and bring his face closer to yours, the tips of your noses brushing against one another as his arms loop around your waist. With one hand, he holds your waist, and with the other, he slowly begins to lift your leg, hooking it over his hip and dipping you down.  

You let out a tearful giggle, the sound mixing with Gojo's chuckle as he slots his lips against yours, pouring years of love and adoration into a singular kiss. You squeeze your arms around him to steady yourself, smiling against his lips as they move against your own.  

You pull back from him just as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, no doubt wanting to shamelessly make out with you in front of an audience. But with your family sitting somewhere in the crowd, one of you had to demonstrate self-control.  

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Gojo," Gojo whispers, his breath fanning over your lips as he continues to hold you close. You dive forward, pecking his lips again. He smiles at you, tearful aquamarine eyes crinkling at the corners as he stares down at you; his little wife. 

Everything was perfect. 

"I'm home!" Gojo announces as he kicks his shoes off, turning his body halfway to close the front door and peering around the dim-lighted living room. His eyebrows furrow, arms slapping against his sides as he realizes that you're not running to him to embrace him.  

Slowly, he walks further into the house, curiously peering into the kitchen only to be met with the sight of nothing. Worry sinks into his chest, but he doesn't allow himself to get worked up just yet.  

"Honey?" Gojo's voice is a quiet whisper as he enters the living room, eyes met with a heartwarming sight; you're sat in the center of the couch, arms wound around a sleeping Megumi. The boy leans impossibly further into your side, his head tucked comfortably into the crook of your neck with his body splayed over your own like a weighted blanket.  

His lips turn upward in a soft smile, hand reaching for his phone to photograph the moment and commit it to memory. But just as his fingers brush his phone, something tells him to instead live in the moment as opposed to capturing it.  

Gojo moves to kneel silently beside the couch, reaching out his index finger and lovingly stroking it against your cheek, smiling to himself as your nose scrunches up and you stir slightly. Those eyes that he could spend hours gazing into flutter open, a sleepy smile curling the corners of your lips upward.  

"Hi 'Toru," you whisper, yawning.  

"Hi pretty girl." 

Everything was perfect. 

"Satoru Gojo!" 

Gojo pauses, every bone in his body stilling as he slowly turns to look over his shoulder, swallowing his pride (and dignity) as you stomp over, Megumi not far behind. Gojo glances quickly at Yuuji and Nobara, silently asking them for help – but immediately the two first-years look around, not wanting to stand in the way of your wrath.  

"Hey honey," Gojo says with a smile, already feeling sweat build up against his forehead as you grow closer, eyes flaring with an anger that he had only ever seen once before – and honestly, he had no idea how he had even survived. "What's – uh – what's going on?" 

"What's going on?! You mean to tell me that you're going to stand there and act like nothing is wrong?" Your voice raises an octave or two in volume, making Gojo cringe and shrink in on himself. It was almost entertaining, really. Watching the 6'3 Special Grade Sorcerer be reduced to a shaking mess at the sight of his angered wife.  

Gojo remains silent, not wanting to respond in the fear that you would bite his head off.  

The staring contest between yourself and Gojo is tense, only made worse by the other pairs of eyes that watch quietly from the sidelines.  

Yuuji shifts closer to Megumi, craning his neck just low enough to whisper into his ear, "What's going on?" 

Megumi only smirks, lifting his arms to cross them over his chest. "He ate her leftovers last night." 

Everything was perfect... 

"I understand that your work is important, but you're barely home anymore," you say desperately, closing Megumi's bedroom door and turning on your heel to glance at Gojo. He rubs his hands against his face, skin catching the groan that falls from his lips. 

"I can't just say no to what the higher-ups want me to do, honey. You know that," Gojo responds, not failing to notice how your teeth catch your bottom lip, roughly biting down into the supple skin.  

"You have a family here 'Toru. Your missions are getting more and more dangerous and I – I don't want to be sitting on the couch one day and you just," you pause to swallow the growing lump in your throat, "don't come home." 

Gojo softens, his heart hammering in his chest as he stares silently down at you. Your eyes shine with tears, tears that he desperately wants to reach out and brush away – but something inside of him tells him not to.  

"Megumi needs you here. Hell, I need you here," you say desperately, laying a palm flat against your chest as you step forward to close the distance between yourself and Gojo.  

Something inside you damn near breaks as your husband takes a step back from you.  

"I know. Trust me I know. But there's only so much I can do. They need me (Y/N)," Gojo says. Immediately – the moment that those words fall from his lips – he wishes that he could fucking swallow them.  

You freeze, body standing rigid as your eyes blankly stare at him. Any ounce of emotion, anything that might have made you human is suddenly gone, replaced instead by a robotic stare that chills Gojo down to his very core. 

Silently, you brush past him, shoulder knocking against his chest as you walk down the hallway and vanish into the living room. Gojo stares after you, turning his head towards Megumi's door and screwing his eyes shut – fuck.  

Everything was perfect...? 

"Megumi! Have you seen your mother?" Gojo asks, waving his hand wildly in the air as the raven-haired teenager turns to glance at him, raising an eyebrow in both annoyance and curiosity.  

"She just went out on a field mission, why?" 

Gojo's heart sinks, body deflating as he pockets the necklace that he had planned to give you; a heart locket with a picture from your wedding day inside of it. Megumi watches his adoptive father's shaking hands, and a pang of curiosity flows through his body, but he makes no mention of it.  

"Oh, no reason. I just wanted to give her something," Gojo answers dismissively, waving his hand at Megumi before he lets out a disappointed sigh.  

Everything was perfect? 

"I understand, I'll tell Shoko to prepare a bed now," Ichiji says with a swift nod, though it doesn't go unnoticed how he swallows the lump in his throat. He removes the phone from his ear, pressing down on its red "hang-up" button and stowing the device away in his pocket.  

Curiously, Gojo peers at the assistant manager through his blindfold, tilting his head curiously as the younger man stands from his seat, beelining for the door and disappearing into the hallway.  

The snowy-haired male stands, following closely behind Ichiji and watching as the man's back tenses, his hands curling into white-knuckled fists. What the fuck was going on? 

His breath catches in his throat as he enters the infirmary. One of the tables is occupied, the body covered by a thin white tarp that's stained with the blood of whoever lies underneath.  

Ichiji glances at Shoko, who only stares down at the stained tarp with a numb glint to her eyes. Her hand extends, fingers wrapping over the top of the tarp and lowering it to reveal who lies beneath.  

Gojo's stomach turns.  

Was everything perfect? 

singledad! nanami having the hots for yuji’s kindergarten teacher who has the tendency to overwork herself to the bone in the name of her precious students

he gets her to unwind with him 🫣 they fuck LMAOOOLLL

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Pairing - !SingleDad Nanami x !Kindergarten Teacher Reader

Warning(s) - None besides some foul language.

Word Count - 2.6k

A/N - Hi, yes, okay, I know the request had a smut element to it, but I took a fluffy route. If you want a part two that has that smut element or an alternate version that focuses on that smut element, please send me a request and I will get to it as quickly as I can! But I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

ENCOUNTER 1 : 

“There! He’s over there!” Yuuji says happily, his grip over your hand tightening as he points to a blonde-haired man standing in the crowd of awaiting parents. You follow his gaze, smiling kindly as the man lifts his hand in a wave, grinning at both you and Yuuji.  

“Alright, off you go then,” you smile down at Yuuji, releasing his hand and watching as the six-year-old toddles over to his father, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s leg and smiling widely up at him. His father stands straight, waving once more to you before vanishing into the crowd. 

ENCOUNTER 2 : 

"Mr. Nanami, correct?" You cast a glance down at your clipboard before your gaze returns to the blonde male standing in front of you. He nods, smiling apologetically as Yuuji tugs once again on his arm, trying his hardest to get his father's attention. "You can both come inside." 

Nanami smiles again as he walks past you, taking a seat on the too-small chairs that you had set up in the center of the classroom. His knees curl up to his chest, but he says nothing as you sit in front of him, smiling first at Yuuji before your gaze shifts to settle on him.  

"Yuuji is an absolute pleasure to have in class. He's very helpful with others and myself, he focuses on each task he's given – he's a very gifted student," you explain, lifting up the pages on your clipboard and smiling as Yuuji's toothy grin widens, gleeful with the praise you were giving him.  

"Is that so? I'm very glad to hear that," Nanami nods, turning then to Yuuji and placing a palm over the top of his head. The six-year-old giggles, leaning into his father's touch with a closed-eye smile.  

You watch the interaction with a gentle smile of your own, fingers releasing their hold on the papers of your clipboard and listening as they quietly fall into place.  

ENCOUNTER 3 : 

"Papa, look! It's Miss (Y/N)," Yuuji bubbles happily, tugging on Nanami's pant leg and pointing in the direction that he had seen you. Curious, Nanami allows his gaze to follow Yuuji's finger – the scolding he wanted to give about pointing falling dead in his throat.  

You're preoccupied with whatever shopping list is curled between your fingers, lips pressed firmly together in thought as you struggle to decide which brand of potato chips to buy. Nanami can't help but silently admire you from his place farther down the same aisle. His lips tug upward in a soft smile – maybe one day he would have enough courage to stride up to you. 

ENCOUNTER 4 : 

"Oh, hello. Did Yuuji forget something at home?" you inquire curiously, raising an eyebrow as a very disheveled Nanami straightens himself out in front of you. His fingers fiddle with his tie, trying to make it look a touch more presentable – but to no avail.  

"I apologize for my appearance, this morning has been hectic. But yes, Yuuji accidentally left his lunchbox," Nanami answers, holding up the small metal lunchbox decorated with superhero stickers – some scratched and some brand new.  

You smile gently at him, reaching out to take the lunchbox from his fingers. "Don't worry, we all have those mornings," you say reassuringly, chuckling gently at Nanami. He returns your smile, cheeks warming at the lingering feeling that your fingers had left behind.  

ENCOUNTER 5 :  

"Hey, isn't that Yuuji's teacher?" Gojo asks, lifting his index finger to point across the bar. Nanami's eyes follow Gojo's finger – which then widen at the sight of you mingling with a few friends, nursing a fruity cocktail in your hand.  

Nanami hums in response, trying his hardest to return his attention to his drink, but your outfit is much too tight, pushing up exactly what needs to be pushed up and making your figure just that much more attractive. Behind his eyeglasses, his gaze roams up and down the dips and curves of your body, his lips quirking up in tune with his wandering eyes.  

"Yeah, it is," he mutters offhandedly, lifting his glass to his lips and resting it against the skin there. Gojo smirks, lowering his finger before standing from his place at the bar. Nanami's eyebrows pinch together in curiosity, watching the snowy-haired male swagger his way across the bar – not stopping until he reaches where you stand with your friends, then throwing a slender arm over your shoulders.  

The once loose grip Nanami had over his glass is replaced by a tight curl of his fingers, one that could surely shatter the glass should he apply the right amount of pressure. His eyes narrow in an almost predatory manner – watching as Gojo smiles at both you and the friends that had come along with you.  

You return his smile and laugh at the cheesy jokes that he throws your way, but Nanami can see the hint of discomfort that lies behind the curl of your lips. Oh, so that was Gojo's plan. 

Downing the rest of the whiskey in his glass, Nanami stands from his place at the bar, striding across the small space until he stands just a few inches away from you, your friends, and Gojo – the latter of whom is wearing that shit-eating grin he always wears when his plans work out just the way that he wanted them to.  

"Oh! Mr. Nanami! I didn't expect to see you out here," you say, turning quickly to glance at the blonde as he wanders into your line of vision. Your smile, once uncomfortable and forced, was now that same smile that you flashed at him when you noticed him at dismissal. "It's nice to see you." 

Nanami's cheeks heat, and he silently thanks the bar for being so dim, its lighting hiding the gentle pink hue that imbues over his face. "It's nice to see you as well Miss (Y/N)," Nanami nods at you, feeling himself smile as you shift an inch closer to him.  

"Oh, would you like to join me at the bar? Your friends can as well, if they'd like," Nanami offers, shooting Gojo a pointed glare. Gojo only smirks, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. That bastard. 

You glance to your friend, who nods encouragingly at you. You turn back to Nanami, smiling at his offer and reaching a hand out to squeeze his arm – your touch lights a small fire underneath his skin, one that he most certainly does not complain about.  

"We'd love to, thank you." 

ENCOUNTER 6 : 

"Where's your father Yuuji?" Your voice is a quiet mumble, your fingers still closed around Yuuji's as the both of your gazes sift through the crowd of awaiting parents – and yet Nanami is nowhere to be seen. The pink-haired boy sinks back onto his heels, a saddened look falling over his face as he leans into your side.  

"I don't know," he mumbles in response, his eyes already glossing over with tears. You soften, kneeling down to be at eye-level with the boy and smiling as reassuringly as you can at him. "Did he forget me?" 

You shake your head quickly, squeezing the tiny hand that still rests in yours. Yuuji sniffles, his cheeks puffing out in an adorable pout. "No! No honey, your father did not forget you. It could just be that work is keeping him a little later." 

Seemingly satisfied with your explanation, Yuuji nods, rubbing his free hand against his tear-filled eyes, sniffling. You smile again, squeezing his fingers before guiding him back to the entrance of your classroom.  

He follows, sitting down at his seat and taking the coloring sheets and colored pencils that you offer him, already scribbling away at the black-and-white monkey that laid in front of him. You take the seat at his left, feeling your heart warm as Yuuji tilts the sheet towards you – a silent invite for you to color with him.  

You take one of the colored pencils that he offers you, coloring in a small section of the page and occasionally looking up to your classroom door – where the hell was Nanami?  

"Wait here for a moment Yuuji, I'm going to call your father, okay?" You lift a hand to ruffle the boy's hair, smiling at him before silently moving towards the chorded phone tucked into the corner of your classroom, located just behind your desk.  

Just as you finish dialing in the now familiar number, the door to your classroom opens, revealing a disheveled Nanami. He leans quietly against the doorframe for a moment, catching his breath before Yuuji turns, smiling widely at the sight of his father.  

"Papa!" 

You turn from where you stand beside the phone, smiling in relief as you watch Yuuji bound up to Nanami, wrapping his little arms halfway around his father's legs.  

"There you are. I have to admit, I was getting a little worried about you," you admit with a smile, waving to Nanami as you walk closer to the pair, watching through softened eyes as Yuuji reaches for his completed coloring page, wanting to show his father.  

"I apologize for my lateness. I had not expected my office to keep me as late as they did," Nanami apologizes, bowing his head at you. You wave him off, then folding your fingers together in front of you.  

"It's not an issue at all. Though you did give Yuuji quite the scare," you admit, not failing to notice the way that Nanami's smile fades for a quick moment, but returns when Yuuji lifts his coloring page up to him.  

"Oh," he hums, turning to Yuuji and laying a palm against the youngster's head, lovingly ruffling his hair. "I apologize Yuuji, I didn’t mean to frighten you." 

"It's okay Papa! Miss (Y/N) and I colored together!" Yuuji bubbles, his eyes crinkling in a wide smile as his eyes momentarily flicker to you. "See? I made this one look like you." 

Nanami smiles fondly, then turning to you and once again mouthing his thanks. You merely wave him off, watching with a smile of your own as Yuuji continues to explain each little character that he had colored in.  

ENCOUNTER 7 : 

"Good morning Miss (Y/N)!" Yuuji exclaims happily, smiling brightly up at you as Nanami leads him forward, releasing the little boy's hand as he tugs his father towards you.  

Biting back the yawn that rises in your throat, you will yourself to smile back at your student, waving politely at him and watching through half-lidded eyes as he lets go of Nanami's hand. He opens his mouth to question you, but is immediately distracted by the call of one of his friends.  

"Good morning Miss (Y/L/N)," Nanami bows politely at you, one that you return clumsily. His eyebrows pinch together in a mixture of curiosity and concern – you weren't acting like your regular self. Your once bubbly attitude and bright greetings were replaced now by half-assed "good morning's" and small waves that carried none of your usual warmth.  

"Morning Mr. Nanami," you return, your smile wobbling as your eyes flicker to meet his own. It's then that he notices the exhaustion that weighs heavy on your eyelids, practically tugging them down to a point where you look as though you're about to fall asleep standing upright.  

"Are you feeling alright this morning?" 

"Oh yes, just tired is all," you wave off his concern, smiling once again at him before a comfortable yet uncomfortable silence falls over the both of you. "I'll be seeing you later?" 

"Yes, have a good day," Nanami smiles at you, his heart warming when you return it – though it doesn't quite reach your eyes that way that it would normally. You wave again at him as he walks off, then turning to your awaiting students and clapping your hands once together.  

ENCOUNTER 8 : 

"Oh! Miss (Y/N)! My papa wanted to talk to you after school today," Yuuji mentions to you, smiling as he glances up from the worksheet that he had been previously occupied with. Your eyebrows pinch together in intrigue, glancing down at the pink-haired boy and tilting your head at him.   

"Alright then, I'll be waiting for him," you reply with a kind smile, then continuing your routine check on the rest of your students, being sure that none of them were struggling with the work that you had handed out.  

< … > 

"Yuuji mentioned that you wanted to speak with me?"  

Nanami swallows the growing lump in his throat, suddenly feeling oddly choked up as you stand in front of him, lifting his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. His shirt feels tighter than before, the air surrounding him is suddenly hotter than it had been previously.  

"Yes – uhm – my apologies if I am taking up your time," Nanami begins, fiddling with his fingers and scratching at already existing hangnails, "but there is something that I wanted to ask of you." 

You smile kindly at him, a gentle laugh falling from your parted lips – a sound that Nanami wishes that he could commit to the very depths of his memory.  

"You're not wasting my time at all," you're quick to reassure him, your gaze momentarily flickering to Yuuji as he takes advantage of the empty classroom, organizing the books in your small-shelved library.  

Nanami inhales deeply, holding the breath in his chest and wondering if what he was about to ask would make you view him in a different light – though he sincerely hoped that you wouldn't.  

"I was wondering...and forgive me if this is too forward...if you would like to join me for coffee sometime this weekend?" His voice is dangerously quiet, a light shake to his voice as the fear of being rejected finally sinks into his bones – maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.  

Your laughter dies down, fading completely as you stare at Nanami – you certainly hadn't expected him to ask you that.  

Just as Nanami opens his mouth to apologize again, you cut him off.  

"I'd love to." 

With cheeks dusted pink and a smile that could only be compared to a lovesick fool, Nanami glances up at you, feeling his chest warm at the sight of your dimpled cheeks and crinkled eyes.  

< ... > 

"So that's how you and Papa fell in love?" Yuuji tilts his head curiously, biting back his yawn as he nestles further into his comforters. You smile gently at him, reaching a hand out to affectionately ruffle his hair, threading your fingers through his pink locks.  

"That's exactly how Papa and I fell in love. He took me for coffee that very weekend, and the rest is history," you recall with a lovesick smile plastered onto your face. Yuuji smiles sleepily, a sight that you mentally commit to memory.  

"I'm happy you and Papa met," Yuuji whispers adorably, yawning again before his heavy eyes finally flutter shut, exhaustion taking over him. You smile again, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss against his forehead before you stand from his bed. 

You turn your head, jumping at the sight of Nanami standing in the doorframe to Yuuji's bedroom, leaning against it with crossed arms and a gentle smile on his face. "How long were you there for?" Your voice is almost accusatory as you walk into your husband's arms, resting your own around his neck and tracing your fingernails along his nape.  

"Long enough to hear you retell that story for – what – the eighty-fifth time?" Nanami perks an eyebrow at you, leaning down to slot his lips against yours. You hum against his mouth, tugging him a bit closer and biting playfully at his bottom lip.  

He pulls away after a moment, the tip of his nose affectionately brushing against your own, his large hands squeezing playfully at your waist.  

"And every time I tell it, you hang off of my every word, don't you?"  

Nanami smiles, his lips ghosting over your own as he tugs you impossibly closer, your chest pressed flush against his own.  

"That I do." 

soft dom gojo 💔

Sypnosis - Gojo being a soft dom, that's it, that's the tweet.

Warning(s) - suggestive themes, foul language, THIS PIECE IS LITERALLY ABOUT GOJO BEING A SOFT DOM EXPECT ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING

A/N - Thank you Anon...as if I don't already think about this man an unhealthy amount.

Read the Aggressive Dom version here!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

!Soft Dom Gojo, who treats you with so much respect. He treats you as if you’re the woman who hung the moon and the stars, as if you’re the woman responsible for all of creation. To him, you are absolutely everything, and he is definitely not afraid to voice any of that. 

!Soft Dom Gojo, who worships your body like a sacred temple. He’ll lay you down and place little kisses against any bit of skin that he can reach. Typically, he starts at your head, then he peppers your face in those featherlight kisses that bring butterflies to your stomach. Slowly, they get lower and lower, his lips brushing against your chest, then your stomach, and of course, between your legs — where he will stay until you’re whining and begging him to get off. 

!Soft Dom Gojo, who won’t hold back his praise when he fucks you. His hands will be grasping your hips firmly, eyes fixated on the ripple of your hips when his snap to make contact. Your eyes are screwed shut, moans falling from your parted lips at just how deep he goes with every thrust. His lips are right beside your ear, whispering “good girl”’s and “you’re doing so well”’s like they’re his own personal mantras.  

!Soft Dom Gojo, who always puts your pleasure over his own. To him, getting you off also gets him off. Hearing your little whimpers and moans when he’s nestled between your legs has his cock straining in his pants — that which leads to him grinding against the bed while his tongue flicks at your clit.  

!Soft Dom Gojo, who can and will overstimulate you while uttering the sweetest and softest praises. His fingers are pumping in and out of you at a borderline unbearable pace while his tongue flicks at your swollen clit. You had orgasmed — what — three or four times? You honestly didn’t know, you had lost count after orgasm number two. Your hands are tangled in his hair, little gasps and broken moans falling from your lips. A thin line of drool trickles down your chin — the sight of you so fucked out almost has Gojo cumming on the spot.  

!Soft Dom Gojo, who never skips aftercare. The minute that your body relaxes against the sheets, Gojo stands from the bed and moves towards the bathroom. There he runs a hot bath and grabs one of the small hand towels folded on the side of the sink. He returns to your side, running the towel over you, smiling slightly to himself as you shiver from the sensitivity. He shushes you, hooking his arms around you and lifting you. You both share a bath, your back to his chest as he softly washes your hair and body, being careful to not accidentally brush over any part of you that may be too sensitive.  

We <3 !Soft Dom Gojo in this house.  

DENJI who knows from the moment that he laid eyes on you that he wanted to be yours. He didn’t want you to be his, oh no, that wasn’t the case at all. He wanted to be at your every beck and call — any time that you needed something, he wanted to be the one that you turned to.  

He doesn’t care how simple the task or how stupid the question, he just wants you to look for him. He wants your eyes to fall on him and for your hand to extend in his direction. He wants to be the one you look for in a crowd, he wants to be the one who carries your shopping bags, he wants to be the one who lays his jacket down on every single puddle. He wants you to call him ‘yours’. 

“Shit,” you murmur, placing your hands on your hips and glaring up at the offending pack of chips — which sits on a shelf just barely out of your reach.  

Huffing, you push yourself onto your tiptoe, hand extended towards your desired snack. As if to taunt you, the tips of your fingers brush against the outside of the chip bag.  

Just as you give up, a familiar orange-haired boy slides into the kitchen, lips pulled back in that adorable fanged smile. “Oh, hey (Y/N)!” 

You turn, nearly losing your balance as you glance at Denji, who only smiles in response. His eyes flicker between you and the too-high shelf that prevents you from enjoying a mid-afternoon snack.  

“Hey Denji,” you reply, smiling at him as you turn away from the open cabinet.  

Denji notices your flickering gaze, following it and humming at the bag of chips in the cabinet. He smiles, then returning his focus to you.  

Without saying a word, Denji steps past you, his shoulder brushing affectionately against your own as he easily plucks the bag of chips from the shelf. He offers it to you, heart warming at your immediate smile.  

“Thanks Denji!” you bubble happily, hugging around his arm and placing a thankful kiss against his cheek.  

He smiles, practically purring at the affection.  

DENJI who greets you as if you had been separated for years. The moment that patrol ends and he’s able to return to Aki’s apartment — where he knows you’ll be — he’s sprinting with a speed that not even he knew that he possessed. He doesn’t care to see if Power is behind him, his sole focus being the fact that he was returning home to you.  

The moment that he steps through the door, Denji’s eyes are darting around the apartment for you. He accidentally slams the door in Power’s face, beelining for you in the living room and promptly hugging you like he was your husband returning home from war.  

“Denji—!” Power’s voice is cut off by the slamming of the apartment door, her angered groan falling on deaf ears as Denji excitedly enters the apartment.  

He looks around quickly, heart pounding in his ears as his eyes search for you — finding you in the kitchen snacking on the leftovers from the dinner that Aki had made the previous night. He beelines for you, arms locking around your waist and the entirety of his body weight pushing against your own.  

“Denji!” you exclaim, wobbling on your feet and nearly choking on the forkful of food that you had been ingesting. He ignores you, burying his head into the junction that connects your collarbone and shoulder, lightly biting down and smiling as you yelp again. You can feel the curl of his smile against your skin, and suddenly you weren’t as angry with him. 

“Missed you,” he murmurs, voice muffled from where his face is pressed impossibly closer against you, his nose practically inhaling your scent and committing it to the deepest depths of his memory. 

You smile to yourself, lifting a hand and threading your fingers into Denji’s hair, nails raking lightly over his scalp. He curls further into you — if that was even possible — placing a chaste kiss against your neck (as if he hadn’t just bitten you there).  

“Yeah,” you agree, leaning back into his arms and allowing your eyes to momentarily close, “I missed you too.” 

DENJI who treats you as his own personal pillow and may (WILL) suffocate you when it’s time to go to sleep. He can’t help it! He hugs you to his chest just as you’re both dozing off, your head tucked comfortably underneath his chin with your own arms wound loosely around his midsection. His nose is buried in your hair, inhaling that oh-so-familiar scent of your shampoo — it was so distinctly you.   

But somehow, in the ungodly hours of the morning, you’re suddenly confused as to why it’s so hard to breathe. Denji, somehow, had rolled completely on top of you. His nose is buried into the crook of your neck, mouth hanging open as loud — and borderline obnoxious — snores fill the otherwise quiet bedroom. His arms are still locked around you like iron, but this time, you genuinely don’t know if they’re going to be the weapons that kill you. 

Your eyes shoot open at the terrifying feeling of not being able to breathe, widened irises flickering around the room until you’re suddenly aware of why you can’t breathe— 

“Denji,” you whisper urgently, desperately shaking the figure that lays on top of you. You can feel the warmth of his breath fanning out over the skin of your neck. He mumbles something incoherent, only snuggling further into you and pressing more of his weight down onto you.  

In any other situation, you would have ‘awed’ at him and lovingly pinched his cheek. 

But right now you were a little more focused on remaining conscious.  

“Denji,” you say again, louder this time. You try your hardest to shove him off of you, but even in sleep, he fights against you, wanting to practically be melded to you. He grumbles sleepily, and you could only pray that he chokes on his own spit so that he would wake up. 

Your hands brace against his side, trying one last time to push him off of you. Denji’s nose scrunches adorably, a snore getting caught in his throat as his grip tightens impossibly further over you. You groan lightly, sighing through your nose.  

“Denji, come on,” you murmur, screwing your eyes shut and giving Denji’s limp body one more shove. Denji grunts, finally opening his eyes and turning to you with a tired glint to his eyes, sleepily blinking at you.  

“Wha—?” Denji hums, smacking his lips together and blinking away the last bits of exhaustion from his eyes. He rolls off of you, resulting in you greedily inhaling. Denji only stares curiously at you, now wide awake and wondering why you were breathing so heavily.  

“You were squishing me,” you say simply, sitting up and glancing at Denji, who is quick to sit up beside you. He pouts, jutting out his bottom lip as he stares at you, guilt swimming in his eyes. “It’s okay, you do it every night.” 

“I do?!” 

DENJI who always has to have a hand on you when you’re out and about — even if it’s while the two of you are paired together for patrol. Most of the time, Denji’s fingers are locked together with your own, his thumb sometimes brushing over the backs of your knuckles (mainly because Aki mentioned ONCE that it was a romantic gesture). It’s sweet…when you’re not working obviously.  

Standing in line results in the both of you receiving glances from those that surround you, some of them looks of jealousy, but the majority of them are those disgusted glances usually thrown at the PDA obsessed couples in amusement park lines. Does Denji care about those glances? Oh, absolutely not, he could care so much less. He loves you! So why would he sit back and not show you that he absolutely loves and adores you? 

“Hey Denji? I can’t really fight this Devil with one hand,” you comment offhandedly, glancing down at Denji’s fingers that were so tightly interlocked with your own — you honestly don’t know if he has any plans of genuinely letting go. He glances down at the Devil in question, acknowledging its existence before turning with a lovesick smile back to you.  

“I’m sure you can,” he responds, figurative tail wagging as you roll your eyes. You squeeze his fingers three times, a silent way of you saying ‘I love you” — a little something that you had both established somewhere near the beginning of your relationship. Denji’s smile impossibly widens, his fingers returning your affectionate squeeze.  

“Two seconds, count it,” you say with a smile, leaning forward on the tips of your toes and pressing a fleeting kiss to Denji’s cheek. He all but purrs at you, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before he (reluctantly) lets you deal with the Devil that you had been sent out to exterminate.  

DENJI who texts you so many times throughout the day that you have to silence your phone at the beginning of your shifts at work. Otherwise your phone would be buzzing every three seconds with a new message from Denji, be it a random selfie of him and Power or a pinecone that he claims “looks like you!” Sometimes his messages don’t even make sense, but that can be blamed on Denji’s inability to type properly — considering that he had never had a cell phone before. 

Snuck between those fun messages are genuine heartfelt texts that make your heart melt when you scroll back to reread them. Every morning the first message that pings on your phone is from Denji, telling you to make sure that you eat something and that he would see you later on patrol. And the last message that you see every night is Denji telling you sweet dreams and that he would see you in the morning.  

“Is that your phone again?” Aki asks with a raise of his eyebrow, taking a drag of the cigarette between his lips before blowing the smoke out in a small gray cloud in front of him. You pause, tilting your head before becoming aware of the constant vibration against your thigh.  

You dip your fingers into your pocket, taking out your cellphone and looking down at the 34 messages sent to you by Denji. You bite back the smile that threatens to curl the corner of your lips upward, scrolling through the various texts of ‘Miss you!’ and ‘Tell Aki that we’re out of cereal’.  

“Sorry, it’s Denji,” you murmur, remembering that you and Aki were currently on patrol, “I’ll silence it.” 

Aki nods, flicking away his cigarette and turning away from you. You heart a few of Denji’s messages, smiling down at the illuminated screen before silencing your phone and jogging to keep up with Aki. 

DENJI who enjoys having late night conversations with you — talking about whatever it is that you want. Sometimes you both have deep conversations with one another, revealing parts of your past and in turn learning a little bit more about Denji. Or sometimes you have silly ‘what if’ conversations, where you’ve learned that, yes, Denji would love you if you were a worm, Denji would be able to identify your pussy in a room full of others, and Denji would happily lay over a puddle so that your shoes wouldn’t get wet.  

He likes to ramble, he likes to get stuck on one topic and just pour his heart out about whatever it may be. Denji also just loves the sound of your voice, listening to you ramble about topics that you’re passionate about or listening to stories from your childhood. He’ll keep his eyes on you the entire time that you’re speaking, his chin leaned into the palm of his hand as you continue speaking. If you quiet down for even a second, he prompts you to continue with a chipper “And then what happened?” 

“You tired?” Denji asks, eyes fixed on the ceiling and watching as the small fan spins in seemingly endless circles, giving the room a small breeze that momentarily cancels out the warmth that radiates from the outside.  

You shake your head, hair tickling Denji’s shoulder. Your leg is hiked up over his own with your arms wound loosely over his midsection. “No, not really,” you murmur, suddenly aware of just how awake you truly are.  

It was odd, considering that patrol lasted much longer today and Makima had quite a few words to say to you and Denji before you left the offices for the day. You thought that by the time you had finished up dinner with Aki that you would be completely exhausted — and yet you weren’t. 

“What was your life before being a Devil Hunter like?” Denji asks, rubbing a thumb up and down your side. You hum, closing your eyes for a moment and simply remembering; remembering blurry figures of people that you may or may not have loved and muddled memories of a time that you may or may not have enjoyed.  

“I dunno actually, I don’t really remember it,” you reply with a small shrug, shuffling your body closer to Denji’s and letting out a sigh, your breath fanning over his neck. He ignores the shiver that crawls up his spine at the sensation, momentarily tightening his arms around you, his cheek resting against the top of your head.  

“Well…what do you remember?” Denji inquires. You smile to yourself, knowing what it was that Denji wanted — he just wanted to hear you talk. Humming to yourself, you tilt your head up, pressing a kiss to the underside of Denji’s jaw. 

“There is one thing, I had a best friend growing up,” you begin, squeezing Denji’s waist and smiling as he returns it, excitedly listening and waiting for you to tell him the tale from your childhood.  

DENJI who just loves and adores you more than anything. The moment that he becomes yours, the moment that you become his, he’s completely devoted to you and to you only. To him, you’re the one person that’s worth sticking around for, the one person worth protecting from Devils. In a way, Denji is just glad to have someone that doesn’t look at him like he’s a freak — as he’s used to eyes widening in disgust and lips curling back to spit out venomous insults.  

But then Denji met you; you with the warmth in your eyes and the glitter to your smile. You with the kind words and tight hugs that were warmer than any summer’s day. You with the kisses that managed to steal his breath every single time and you with the ability to make the gloomiest days bright.  

Denji is so happy to have you in his life, and every day he manages to convey that love and adoration to you. And the moment that you reciprocate it, Denji falls harder and harder.  

My first time writing for Chainsaw Man and Denji, go easy on me.

NANAMI PLEASE OH MY GOD

like wow nanami with a s/o that falls asleep after using like 200% of her cursed energy after a rough mission!

Sypnosis - Being a sorcerer wasn't easy, but your husband would be there no matter how worn out you may be.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, NANAMI BEING DOMESTIC ASF, uhh I don't know does fluff really need warnings...?

A/N - Don't worry everyone, Nanami is 100% safe and enjoying his retirement in Malaysia with his little wife, it's okay.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“Darling? Is that you?” 

You can’t find it in yourself to answer your husband’s gentle call, eyes struggling to remain open as you stagger into your shared apartment, hands bracing themselves against any solid surface in the hopes that you would be able to scoot yourself towards either the couch, or better yet, your bed.  

Your latest mission had been one of the toughest yet. Taking on a Special Grade curse entirely on your own wasn’t a simple feat, even for a sorcerer as skilled as yourself. The overexertion of your Cursed Energy left you utterly exhausted and craving sleep — it was the hardest you had pushed yourself in a long time.  

You try to blink the exhaustion from your eyes as you finally make it into the living room, eyeing the empty couch with a borderline hungry glint to your irises. Your palms are cupped over shallow wounds on your body, fingertips lightly touching the various scrapes and bruises that you had received from the Special Grade Cursed Spirit. In honesty, you were lucky to leave in the condition you were in — many other sorcerers would have had gashes and fatal lacerations.  

Staggering towards the couch, you all but collapse onto it, burying your face into the pillows and turning your back to the rest of the room. Your eyes easily fall shut, body slumping into a comfortable position. Within seconds, you’re snoring on the couch, dead to the rest of the world. 

“Darling?” 

Quietly, Nanami enters the living room, having been worried at your lack of a response. He’s just about to call out for you again when he notices you asleep on the couch, your back turned to him with your shoulders rising and falling in deep, relaxed breaths.  

His lips turn upward in a gentle, loving smile — and in three steps he crosses the room and gently kneels down at the edge of the couch. He reaches a hand out, finger stroking your spine and prompting you to turn to face him, awoken by the soft touch.  

“Hi,” you whisper sleepily, blinking slowly at Nanami. He smiles at you, waiting for you to turn completely before he speaks to you. 

“Hello. How was your mission?” 

“Tiring.” 

He hums in thought. He can see the telltale signs of your exhaustion painted onto your face — your sunken eyes, the eyebags just underneath your usually bright irises, the soft paleness to your skin. Nanami’s hand shifts, his finger stroking lightly against your cheek. You nuzzle into his touch, biting back a yawn.  

“Missed you though.” 

Nanami’s heart warms, his smile widening ever so subtly.  

“I missed you too darling. But you should rest,” he scolds you gently, removing his finger from your face and already shifting to stand up. Your hand flies out, fingers catching the sleeve of his shirt and momentarily stopping him.  

“Stay?” you offer, lifting the blanket that you had haphazardly thrown over yourself. Nanami chuckles, shaking his head at you before taking a step forward, carefully slotting himself against you on the couch. He lifts your body, settling you on top of his chest and tucking your head underneath his chin.  

You sigh in content, already feeling your eyes growing heavy again. Nanami’s fingers against your spine only relax you more, his fingertips dragging up and down over your skin. “I love you.” 

You smile sleepily, squeezing at your husband affectionately. “I love you more.”