#youngestdaughter!reader

They whispered amongst themselves as he left to your floor (he heard them). The other one just shrugs with a nod, “Yeah, I dunno. Wish she wasn’t.” 

He could help but glare at them a little. Who are they to talk about your marriage? Then he hears a familiar voice. OldestSon!Nanami notices you at someone’s desk (a man but that didn’t matter to him), seemingly helping him with his work. Another person is behind you, also looking like they’re waiting for your attention. Nanami tries not to shake his head. You and your workaholic behaviors. 

Nanami notices the silent, exasperated sigh that leaves your lips as you take the mouse from the man’s hands, easily taking control. You effortlessly glide around the screen, mocking up an impressive fix for the content. “There,” you say, “Please turn it in now. They’re waiting.”

OldestSon!Nanami who noticed you see the man mark the document with only his name. You didn’t seem to care. You only turn around, telling the other person, “Give me 10 minutes.” Nanami, who calls for your name and many heads fly to him. Okay. What the hell?

“Oh, hey… What’s wrong?” you ask, walking to him. He shakes his head, lifting up your lunchbox and your gasp. He felt that way your hands trembled when gently taking the full-packed lunch in your hands. 

“Aw, thanks. You didn’t have to,” you whisper, and he could tell from your voice that you were utterly exhausted and beat. The tinge of usually sweetness was replaced with its fake compensating syrupy one. Had he been someone else, he would think you’re fine. You’re not.

“Did you not take a lunch break?” he asks, not skipping a beat. Your brows twitch up, your head moving millimeters to the right, looking around him. 

In a low voice you reply, “I’m just a bit caught up between work right now, so I forgot.”

“You seem to be forgetting your meals a lot these days,” he sighs, pulling at the cuff of his sleeve. Without giving you the chance to reply, he fans his arm out, signalling to start walking, “Come. You’re eating with me.”

“No- I- Wait,” you whisper, pulling back, “I can’t. I’m busy.” You look behind you, awkwardly smiling and nodding at your concerned juniors. One good look and Nanami could already tell, half of them only wanted to talk to you for help. (In their defense, their boss was a little too mean and scary to ask for help.) Are you the only leader?

“You’re the leader, right? Take a half an hour break and come back. Simple,” he replies, tone unwavering and clear. To him it was simple. What needs to get done, needs to get done. No ifs, ands, or buts. If you need a lunch break, you take one. If you need to monitor tasks, you do that.

“It's not that simple, Nanami,” you say. And hell, his name falls off your mouth so prettily. If he could he would’ve dropped on his knees to hear you whisper his name again. But now was not the time.

“Not that simple? It’s already 5 PM, 5:37 to be exact. And if I do not pick you up, you usually board the subway around this time. So, what’s keeping you busy? Why not even give yourself 5 minutes to relax?”

“Work is work. I’m helping a few juniors get back on track after their break.” Before you can take a proper step, your phone rings, the phone vibrating on the marble table. Your eyes trace back to the device, thinking to answer it. But before you can reach it, Nanami stands in front.

“Eat,” he mutters, quiet, but stern. You look up to see his arms crossed and eyebrows raised. You look back at the crowd that forms around one work computer.

“They can wait. The company won’t run dead if you’re not there. It shouldn’t,” he says, pushing your phone further away from you. You stay silent, seemingly weighing out your options. He doesn’t push anymore. If you truly weren’t hungry, he wasn’t going to force feed you. Still…

“I made it,” he whispers and immediately he sees your eyes widen with a glow. Your hands reach out to grab the cuff of his sleeve, voice pitched higher, “I’ll eat it!”

“You should’ve started with that,” you whisper, your hair drapes in front of your eyes, covering them from his view. Nanami chuckles at the tiniest purse of your lips. He reaches out to almost, almost tuck your hair behind your ear, but he stops. I’ll scare her, he thought, retracting his hands to scratch his neck.

Without missing a beat, you tell him to follow you into your office. Nanami notices the stares you two get as you both walk by: surprise, curiosity, and envy. Some even a mix. His tongue silently clicks in annoyance at their nosiness. 

One particular man – the one ‘discreetly’ eyeing him up and down – did bother him, who looked as if he’d been stabbed and flung around by his necktie. When you wave at him, passing by with a kind smile, he hurriedly waves back, as if you’d slip away. He’s into her. Or… just a weird guy.

OldestSon!Nanami who pulls a chair for you without even thinking about it, something he’s grown up seeing his father do for his mother. It stuck with him too. Nanami would do it often when you both go out, but not so much at home. I should though. Now that he thinks about it. Why do you always make sure you sit last? Even when Nanami served. Not much to think about either. It’s bare minimum to pull a chair for someone.

But oh, brother, were you taken aback. He wondered the reason behind the slightest glimmering twitch of your eyes when you shyly sit down in the chair. Despite offering him bites, Nanami shakes his  head, pointing for you to eat it all. Until the end, he ensures you eat each and every bite, watching you like a hawk. You felt like a kid being scolded by their parents for not eating.

You attempt to make a conversation throughout the one-sided lunch (or dinner perhaps), asking questions such as “How was your day?” “Did you eat?” or “How is work going?” An unfortunate, but decent set for you two, all which end up in near silence. You weren’t going to make him talk if he didn’t want to. As you hide the bigger-than-you-expected last bite with your hand, you miss the way Nanami grins. A full-set of teeth grin at your full cheeks that you desperately tried to hide from him. You miss the mutter of “cute” that leaves his lips.

When you finally leave at 6:22 PM, OldestSon!Nanami picks you up. Two cold drinks in the front seat – one with ice. He does not give you the cold shoulder nor does he point out how long you’ve made him wait. Your apology was acknowledged and then he tells you to nap in the car. To him, it’s just you that matters, not how long you’ve stayed behind. He cares, but he wasn’t going to make you feel as though you could not care for yourself. (Even if a part of him wanted to scold you for ignoring your health, he knew his boundaries with you.)

You were in and out of consciousness, barely remembering what you said in the car. But Nanami remembered. Color palettes, typefaces, and spreads. He carefully listened to your half an hour long of mumbles and silence, finding it quite interesting that you speak more now that you’re tired. Isn’t it usually the opposite?

 If there was one thing Nanami never experienced nor expected, it was the sleepy mutters about warm white being different from cool white – you claimed it was important for the look. Regardless, you somehow ended up in your bed a couple hours later as Nanami sat upright beside you, reading. Noticing your stretching limbs, he gets out of bed, returning with the same refreshment in his hands. 

A couple glances exchange between you two before he points to the drink, “I took it out of the fridge 10 minutes ago.” After that refreshment, you were out like a light, body relaxing in his presence. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader, the next week, brings Nanami food, surprising him. He already had the lunchbox you made him, but she brought desserts. You hold up the brown bags, waving it at him when he sees you. 

You pass by all the employees that look at her with questions and curiosity, wondering who she was. Their murmurs and whispers in the space come to a stop once Gojo yells across the room, “Well if it isn’t Nanami’s sweetheart!”

Then the room gasped, mouth hung wide open with flies to enter. Nanami discreetly curses out Gojo as he firmly lays a shoulder on the white-haired man’s shoulder to stop him from running towards you. She’s my wife, not his.

Gojo reconvenes to his beeline towards you and succeeds in gently shoving away Nanami’s hold. Before he can ask, Gojo beats him to it, “What’s in the bags?” 

His figure looming over you, curiosity oozing out of him. He pokes his nose towards the two brown bags, only for you to pull it away.

“I made croissants and cookies.” You hold them with care, worried about accidentally dropping them. That was all it took for Nanami’s stomach to jump into flutters. Gojo’s eyes widen as he begins to ask for one, requesting, “I haven’t had anything sweet since yesterday.” Lies. He had caramel drop a couple hours ago to ease his sweet tooth, a daily routine between him and Geto.

With a giggle, you hand him the bags, whispering, “I couldn’t make enough for everyone, so I put names on them. I figured all of Nanami’s friends and juniors work here, so why not give it all at once. Can I trust you to discreetly hand them out?”

Gojo gives you a snap of his fingers and nods his head, “On it, Boss.” Gently taking away the bag in your hands, he passes by everyone’s curious gaze without giving it much thought. He’s not oblivious to them, he simply did not seem to care. You suppose it is a part of his popular, alway-coming-out-on-the-top background. Nanami watches as Gojo takes away the treats that he thought you made for him.

Much to Nanami’s relief, as much as he tried to internally deny feeling dejected from not getting pastries, you pull out a small brown bag to give him. A cute ribbon sticker sealing the bag. For me? He thanks you and takes it into his hands, telling you he’ll eat it when he goes on break later. Part of you wished to see his reaction live, but you didn’t want to risk making things awkward. 

As you ask Nanami if you can host a party for friends, your phone vibrates with an influx of messages of gratitudes and detailed appreciation of your baking skills (Gojo and Yuuji). Nanami nods his head, giving you a calm, “Go ahead,” on hosting.

YoungestDaughter!Reader, who likes hosting but rarely gets the chance considering most of your other siblings insisted on being one the to do so. So you jumped on the inside at his nod, praying the house party goes well. Back in your college days, you were surrounded by friends who were always willing to hang out as a bunch – a little family you could say. One day at Ophenia’s, one day at yours, and so on so forth. Now, you rarely get the chance to hang out all together, as you were all busy with your individual lives. The promise to hang out every year at least once all together, still stays true nonetheless.

Hosting was easier said than done, especially when inviting people with busy schedules. After a series of texts and “how abouts,” you land on the Saturday the week after, giving you about a week and a half to prepare. 

It was a big day for you, bigger than most because you needed to make sure everything was perfect. The food, the drinks, and the house. Top-notch perfect. If it isn’t, then you believed they’d hate you, would hate coming over. You invited all his friends over, the ones from his incredibly tiny, prestigious high school and his juniors from said high school (most also in his company or partners).  

To put off some pressure, you invited one of your friends, Ophenia, but to your luck she has to leave for a business trip that evening. Instead, she comes over with a packed bag to help and then head out to catch the subway. So sweet of her.

As for Nanami, he worked from his home office, sending emails, writing reports, and contacting his partners.  You hadn't said a word to him since the morning, except for the “hello” during breakfast. Seeing your slight glare as he accidentally got in your way in the kitchen was enough to send him right back out. A light shudder went down his back as you watched him grab a bowl of nuts, eyes sharp and face devoid of emotion. He could help but wonder if you are acting this way because you are annoyed and stressed about hosting.

To answer: Nope. You are fine. Maybe a bit nervous and obsessed with perfection, but you aren’t acting out of stress or anger. 

The instances where he did go back near the kitchen (not inside), he witnessed your work method. Prep. Start. Clean as you go. Next step. Repeat until done. 

OldestSon!Nanami saw you work like a robot, refusing to let him help even when he suggested. You have seen him cook before and know what it tastes like, so why not?

“Well… I can’t focus if someone else is in the kitchen,” you said. Fair, but why? Are you used to having a room to yourself? Is it that much of a bother if someone’s there?

Ding dong! Ophenia’s presence graced you with what you needed, a familiar connection and calm support. Looking at the recipes you set out, she knew to get to work on finishing touches. You already made sure everything was set. You’d prepped the table and most of the entrees and appetizers were done, except for the desserts. 

As if the kitchen elves couldn’t laugh enough at Nanami’s terrible kitchen luck, his heart burned when you easily let Ophenia join you in the cooking adventure. But how can you possibly tell Nanami that him standing nearby scared you? Not from fear, but the nervousness about his focus on you. 

Ophenia, seeing your laser-focused eyes and quick pace, knew what to do to quell your worries. Put on nostalgic music, crack a joke when the time is right, and just do the work. In your own words, “rest is for the weak.”

“Remember that one time- bahaha!- In the late night bodega, that one time- hahaha! the guy was like,” Ophenia did a huge motion with the bowl full of batter, one hand scooping up invisible air and the other mixing the bowl.” Next thing that fills the kitchen are both of you dying laughing from one of the thousands inside jokes you two share.

“It was definitely- hahaha!- a gesture. I literally never expected that, not from the cook,” you respond, eyes teary from laughing breathlessly. Nanami’s never heard you laugh so wholeheartedly before. In the 2-3 months you’ve been together, he’s never made you laugh — not the kind that has you wheezing for air. He’s only heard breathy, light giggles. From that moment alone, despite smiling to himself from your contagious laugh, Nanami felt his heart burn from a foreign sticky ache.

YoungestDaughter!Reader has a whole list of items to serve: Tiramisu, cookies, chicken sandwiches, curry, meat platter, yellow rice, flatbread, salad, and a strawberry lemonade. You were booked and busy. No time to spare.

Then it happens, the tray of cookies is left in the oven for too long and... They’re too hard – inedible for hosting. He saw the disappointment spring from your eyes, the tiniest sigh as you immediately went to toss them away. Beelining for the trash.

“Don’t,” he says, calling out from his seat. Your brows furrowed and you huffed, sliding the overbaked cookies in the tray.

“They’re bad. I can't serve this.” You mutter to yourself, picking up one of the cookies and tossing it back onto the tray. Nanami stands up from his seat, carefully making his way to you. As you attempt to, once again, toss them in the trash, he holds you back with his fingers firm on your shoulder, “Breathe. They’re just cookies. It won’t make a difference.” Wrong reply. Okay, maybe not wrong, rather it didn’t help the situation or quell your worry.

Had it not been for the snicker from Ophenia he would’ve thought you were beginning to calm down for how quiet you were.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get more chocolate chips. I’ll get store bought cookie dough and you bake them however you want,” and Ophenia is out the door.

“You could have asked me to help, you know?” he says, “But I guess you’re picky with who.” It wasn’t meant to be serious. 

You don’t reply, not having one to give him. He accidentally takes it as you being angry with him. He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. You want it all perfect and to be able to do it all yourself. Without any help. Although Ophenia did help, you barely let her do 30% of the workload, she was there for moral support and to hang out. To help you breathe in the chaos of your mind. After the long seconds of silence, he gently takes the tray from your hands and sighs as he packs them in a tin. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader, who knew herself inside out. As much as you loved cooking and baking, if one step went wrong, you’ll begin spiraling.

One time you yelled at your sibling for getting in your way in the kitchen, feeling overwhelmed from the constant in and outs of your family when you were baking. Never again. You guys fought as young kids, but the older you got the more calm you all became, especially with all the yelling that already went on in the household. The moment your voice raised, you felt like the one person you swore to never be like: your dad.

He, too, calmed in his anger as he grew older, but it doesn’t change that he did raise his voice. Raise it with such undefeated power, it makes you stop out of fear – not respect or understanding of wrongdoings. So, as foolish as it seems, you never want to raise your voice or be short with Nanami. Not him. Not the man who vowed to be with you through thick and thin. Not over some baking. And certainly not right before his friends were about to come over.

So as Nanami prevents you from wasting cookies (that were just a little overbaked - hard really), you can feel the souring mood of the house. So you try to make it better. It was your fault, no?

“Thank you for packing them up,” you whisper, stirring the pot of chicken curry beside him. He hums, nodding his head, “Better to save them for ourselves instead.” “Yeah.” 

“Do you like cookies?” “No, not really.” You hum at his answer and then silence. Then should I be the only one eating them? Don’t want to force him to eat them just because I made it. The room becomes totally silent with the light music in the background, until Ophenia comes back with the dough.

Ophenia notices the deeper furrows of brows and tense mood. Glancing at Nanami, she puts two and two together, but decides not to push it. She’d rather talk to you separately and listen. Instead, she gives you space and sets the napkins on the table and puts up some decorations. Nanami helped set up the plates, noticing the time was ticking and the guest could arrive anytime. He also did not want to be completely useless.

As Ophenia left, you gave her a bag of fresh cookies and containers full of food. You touch her shoulder and wish her the best, “Have a safe train ride! Thank you so, so much for today. I wish you could’ve stayed.”

She coos at you, “Aw, of course, cutie! And it’s okay! Next time, I’ll join.” And once she leaves, the calm gets replaced with an eerie cold. Neither you nor Nanami talk, not until the doorbell rings. You were setting the food and drinks dining table and the common room. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader, who takes a deep breath, trying to overcome the hurt left behind by the silence. Treading behind Nanami, you both greet your first guests: Yuuji, Nobara, and Megumi. They were already in the area, shopping together – most just Nobara and Yuuji – but they came a tad early to help set up.

“That’s truly kind of you all, but everything is already set,” you smile. Megumi hands you a gift bag, which you accept with grace.

“It’s not much, but we’d hate to come empty handed,” Nobara says, with Yuuji vigorously nodding along at her. Nanami smiles, thanking her. He tells them to come in and sit wherever. 

Slowly the others trickled in. The next guests were Shoko, Utahime, Maki, and Yuki, followed by Choso and Yaga. A while later, Toji, Sukuna, and Uraume come, then, eventually, Gojo and Geto, making them the final guests to arrive. The others had other business to take care of. Each group brought a small gift for being invited.

YoungestDaughter!Reader, who immediately tells everyone to eat and take however much they want. And once they saw the food? Flabbergasted. All of this? Prepped and cooked all for them. The kitchen counter was filled with food, leaving the dining table nicely decorated with the tableware. The desserts were left to the side, to have anytime after dinner. You don’t sit with them, encouraging them all to sit at the table. Yuuji, Nobara, Maki, Yuta, and Megumi voluntarily go sit in the common room, something you assumed they did growing up – you did too. You remember being told to sit in the kid’s section. Fun times really.

YoungestDaughter!Reader, who notices Nanami also not sitting down. You hesitantly go to him, leaning up on your toes, to whisper, “You should sit and eat.” He looks back down at you, eyes dropping to your lips to understand, amidst the noise, “You too.” 

But there is only one more seat, so you tell him to sit first.

YoungestDaughter!Reader growing up in a household where those older than you have to eat first, then the younger ones. Usually, the children and young adults sit at a different table or room. Assuming it was the same for everyone invited, you don't question half the guests going to the common room to eat.

 You somehow manage to make Nanami sit in his seat, to eat with his friends, and catch up. Still, it doesn't take long at all for Nanami to notice your sly plan. He leaves to room only to return with another chair, albeit it looked out of place, for you to sit and eat, right beside him. 

OldestSon!Nanami who would never involve personal feelings with your health. Yes, he was kind of put off by today, but that’s for him to deal with and understand with you later. You hadn’t eaten all morning and evening, and he was worried you were going to faint. You didn’t even get yourself enough food, but he isn’t going to force you to eat more than your fill.

He leans into your ears, whispering, “Don’t you want some more?” You look at him to say, “I’m waiting for everyone to get their fill first.” Hmm… Still, you need to eat, he thought, but only mutters a “Get more when you can.”

YoungestDaughter!Reader who is a little on edge, terrified of making the hosting a horrible one, so you ask each and every person about their well being and day. Fast forward to everyone sitting in the common room – some on the couch, some on the floor or chairs. Yuuji went to ask if he can explore the house, letting him do so with Nobara. You even tell them about the games in your office. They come back out with Uno and a couple board games, letting the games be to join the conversation. You all were chatting about memories and jumping through random topics. One minute it was about volleyball, the next it was about college. What you didn’t expect was to talk about high school.

OldestSon!Nanami who never fully got over his high school trauma. He dismisses any talks about the high school incident, especially from those that did not experience it firsthand. All he says is, “The past is the past.” He’ll give a couple sentences about it, max. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader who also will never forget your high school life. Rather than dismissing anything, you only bring out the good parts and forcibly hides away the rest. You tried to get over it – it was so, so long ago. Besides, you lived through college, making high school just a little easier to forget. Until someone brings it up.

“Wait, college is too recent for you. What were you like in high school?” Shoko asks, pushing her long hair away from her face. You look in the air, pondering for a bit about who you were, the version of you that became less prominent under the layers of new yous. 

 “I was actually kind of, well, goth and an introvert. Still am with my music and style. And I kept to myself a lot because of my studies.”

“You would’ve fit right in with Nanami then,” Shoko jokes, sipping from her glass. Geto chuckles, nodding along, “True, but both of you are introverts so no chance of talking.”

You take a glance at Nanami, only to notice him zoning in on his beverage, not looking up from it, as if he wanted to not be there.

“Wait, when did you graduate?” Yuuji asks, jumping from curiosity. You reply with your year and Nanami’s friends all gasp. “So young... I'm old...” “Just like us.”

“My final year was a bit intense,” you add on, picking at the little string at the end of your sleeve.

“Tell me about it,” Gojo dryly laughs.

“How was high school for you guys? And did graduation end up okay? No one missed it, right?,” you ask, hands holding onto your plate of cookies, extremely curious about Nanami's high school life. Maybe a little too excited with the glimmer in your eyes. Wrong question. You immediately felt the tension pull into the room.

“Great, good. Yeah… We all went to the same high school, so you can only imagine the chaos. Graduation was fun too, right? I don't think anyone... skipped it.” Gojo answered, offering you a kind smile. The rest hum along, busying themselves with their drinks. You noticed Geto particularly drifting off, his demeanor changing entirely as he chugs down the strawberry lemonade, chewing the bits of strawberry.

You attempt to ease the mood with fun memories. Your high school was… pretty bad, but you still remember the good memories. You’d rather never speak about the horrible ones. You buried them in a casket not a time capsule.

With a smile plastered on to lighten the mood, you comment, “Nothing exciting? Any trips or crazy events? I remember my high school ended off with a bang too.” Another mistake. All eyes widen and gather around to solely focus on you, including Nanami’s furrowed ones. Your stomach twists as no one utters a word for a couple seconds. They all stare as if you’d committed an unforgivable deed.

“That’s one way to put it,” Geto scoffs, “Great joke you made there.” 

Your stomach sank as Geto’s eyes slightly bore into you, his purple eyes holding fire in the light. Gojo elbows him, whispering something into his ear. Looking around you try to understand what went wrong. Was it me? Did something happen during high school? What’s going on?

Your eyes go to Nanami, hoping for an explanation, only to receive a look of distance. His jaw clenched and eyes dragging low to the lemonade in his hand.

“So, how exactly did your school end with a bang?” Geto calmly asks, a kind smile strapped to his face. If it weren’t for the enunciation of the end or the tiniest sharp glint in his eyes, you would’ve thought he was truly curious.

“Geto,” Shoko calls out, looking at him with a warning before looking at you. 

“Hope it was fun,” Shoko interrupts, looking at him with a warning before looking at you, “High school was an up-and-down journey. Growing, you know?.”

Still, you adjust in your seat, answering the question as if nothing was wrong. That’s something you were good at. Acting. 

“Oh, yeah. I somehow graduated at the top 1% of my school and managed to make the most of whatever happened. COVID was still affecting my class, so our graduation was less than great, but we all survived,” you giggle, picking at your fingernails and heart racing a million miles. 

Yet another mistake.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Geto whispers under his breath, perhaps hoping to be quiet enough, but it still reaches my ears. The chill in the room travels straight down my spine as the quietness immediately after tells me what to do. To shut up. What’s wrong?

“Stop it,” Gojo whispered to him, patting his back. Behind him, Yuuji asks himself, “Somehow?” However, you were too busy looking at Nanami's friends – none looking back – to notice or answer him.

Sighing, Geto gets up from the couch, claiming to get another glass of lemonade in the kitchen. Gojo follows suit. There is no lemonade in the kitchen. It’s only here.

“I’ll refill the lemonade. There’s more on the kitchen counter,” you lie, taking the empty jug in your hands. Albeit it was in the fridge, but no one knew. With a glance at Nanami, you notice his clenched jaw and tightened lips. With a shaking breath, you enter the kitchen without making much noise, a light back-and-forth conversation reaches my ears. 

Geto held the plastic tight in his hands, so tight it cracked, “Why the hell would that be a good joke?!” Gojo shrugs, rubbing the other’s arm, “It was probably unintentional.”

“Three in a row?” Geto glares, seething, “Three!” 

Your eyes lock with Gojo as you fully step inside and he clears his throat. Pretending as if you heard nothing at all, you give them a gentle smile. 

“I thought you wouldn’t be able to find the lemonade,” you say, walking right past them to the fridge. With no eye contact and quick on your feet, you pull open the fridge. As silence spreads through the kitchen, you decide to quietly refill the jug. Pulling a new cup, you pour the lemonade, placing a lemon on the rim, and try to hand it to Geto.

“I don’t need it,” Geto snapped, voice more curt than usual, “But that’s kind of you.”

Looking up, you nod, “Okay, uh, are you sure? It’s refreshing.”

“I’m refreshed enough for the day,” he says, tightening his lips and staring back with grim eyes. Is he mad at me? You don’t know how to quite respond, entirely confused about what happened in the span of 5 minutes. 

“We’re okay,” Gojo attempts to smile, but you can see the corners of his lips twitching, “We’re talking about something private, so we’d appreciate to be alone.” Oh! Right.

Your eyes widen and you quickly nod, rushing out with the jug of lemonade in your hands. Just when you exit the kitchen you hear Gojo hiss, “That was mean. I know her joke was out of line but-”

Your heart tightens as you head to the common room, everyone still gathered, but the space was duller than the beginning. Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi were talking amongst themselves, huddling to play a game of Uno,  having their own fun as Yuuta and Maki played chess.  Nanami was nowhere to be found and the others were talking amongst themselves, their eyes immediately going to you when entering. 

“I got more lemonade,” You say, setting it on the table with a light thud.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Utahime asks, stroking her neck. You nod back a yes.

“Were the jokes intentional?” Her voice laid out. Not curt but not light. 

“The jokes about my high school?” you question, brows flicking up. They all nod in return. You take a second to think of an appropriate answer, “No? I made the jokes, yes, but it only had to do with my experience. Why?”

Shoko shakes her head, “No, I think we all misunderstood your jokes. Sorry about that. Something- I think it’ll be best if you and Nanami talk about it.”

Tilting your head, with squinted eyes, you look back. Before you can say anything, Shoko gets up and walks to you, whispering, “He looked a little put off? I’m not sure. I don’t want to assume, but you might want to talk to him.”

My lips part and I nod, “Oh, I wondered but didn’t want to assume either. Thank you. And I’m sorry for making you all uncomfortable.”

Shoko smiles and you and the party brighten up, until Geto and Gojo return. As hard as they try to hide their behavior, the room immediately grew cold again, at least for those aware of the current predicament. 

The next 15 minutes go by in a blur, barely any conversation and most of the noise coming from those playing board games. You hesitate to initiate any of the talks, deeply afraid of saying the wrong things.

When you try to talk to Geto, all you get back are sentences that end the conversation right then and there. Even Gojo seemed to be avoiding your gaze, so you turn passive in the dimming mood. Nanami comes into the room, not uttering a word and sitting in silence.

A couple minutes later, Shoko tells you she must leave to rest up until her early meeting the next day. Once she said so, everyone else also began to pack up to leave. You hear shuffling, but no banter, something that you were not used to. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader who was used to banter and 20 minute stallings before someone left. But with the awkward air, you decided not to make people stay longer than they’d like to. You notice Geto and Gojo particularly trying to leave earlier than others. Bidding you a quick goodbye and a slightly longer one to Nanami. Even though you rationalize it yourself, that they know him more and feel more comfortable, you know better. They must be angry about earlier.

As everyone begins to leave to the front door, you notice the line of desserts, untouched. No one ate the desserts… But I also didn’t remind them

You call out for them and tell them all to wait, “Just five minutes. It won’t take longer. I promise.” You try to ignore the burn in your heart at the way the hosting ended – horrible and embarrassing. Packing each one of them some desserts and some of the leftovers, you try to soothe the ache by telling yourself that maybe they at least enjoyed the food. To make them look pretty you fetch scissors and ribbon from your studio, quickly tying the desert box with a bow. 

One by one, they all left with the packed food, some a little quieter than the others. Every so often, you look at Nanami to gauge his reaction, but he bid them all goodbye normally. Geto and Gojo were the last to leave, despite being the first to want to leave. They bid Nanami and you – more so Nanami – goodbye again, avoiding eye contact with you. Immediately as the front door shut, Nanami walked away towards the room.

Party’s over. 

With that, a hole is left behind in your heart as you stand with your head lowered. Before they can fully enter the car, you open the front door and call out for Geto. He turns around, the same look in his eyes, ones that you knew to read. He wanted to stay away from you, perhaps finding you annoying or repulsive. You step out with slippers, nearing them.

“I don’t know what I said, I think it was the comment about high school. I just want to apologize. I know we're not friends and I don’t know what you went through, so I’m deeply sorry. I didn’t mean to cause anything discomfort,” you say, hands clasped behind you. 

“You- You don’t know?” he quietly asks, closing his eyes and scratching the bridge of his nose. Quickly glancing at the white-haired man behind him, you shake your head. Know what? 

“Huh? Like that you were Nanami’s upperclassmen? Yes, I knew.” They both look at each other and then me, a big sigh leaving both their lips. You don’t push for an answer or explanation. 

“About, um, nothing, nevermind,” Gojo licks his lips, adjusting his shirt. 

“Oh, okay. But, um, yeah, I wanted to crack a joke, but I’ll do better. I’m really sorry. I was, um, I hope you still enjoyed the party. Please let me know about things like this. I’m totally fine with you calling me out if I make you uncomfortable and all.”

 Geto’s eyes soften almost immediately as you apologize again. He was at a loss for words, assuming Nanami had already told you. They all thought he did, especially because of Haibara. His anger quickly dissipated as his heart squeezed remembering the tone he used in the later half of the night

“Crap, no it’s my fault. I- I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you straight up. I'm a grown man,” he admits, scratching his neck. Gojo nods along, verbally agreeing. He ruffles your hair and apologizes for not meditating better.

When the atmosphere got much better than before, you remember something. After telling them to wait one second, you return with another plastic bag. This time it was filled with strawberry and apricot thumbprint cookies. 

“I made extra the day before but didn’t make enough since the first batch had no sugar. But I remembered you really like them so,” you trail off, hands offering the cookies to Gojo to hint it’s his to take.

Gojo’s eyes light up, glimmering in the sunset. With a growing smile, he holds his arms out, immediately hugging you and taking you by surprise.

“I should’ve been the one to wife you up,” he cries out, whining. He swayed you back and forth in his arms, crying about your being his sweetest girl, which you couldn’t help but heat up at – out of embarrassment and odd appreciation. 

“You’ll give him a sugar rush. I can’t deal with him tonight,” Geto jokes, ripping Gojo away from you by the back of his collar. The white-haired man pouts as he is forced to do so.

You tilt your head, wondering, “Wait, do you guys live together?” After a beat of silence, they both nod, Gojo replying with, “Yeah, we’ve been roommates since high school. It’s like we’re a couple.” He flashes you a playful grin, showing his canines.

“That’s a really long time… Wow,” you hum, pondering in your thoughts. One thought jumps to another and you ask yourself… Are they-

But before your thoughts go anywhere, you realize how long you’ve stalled them. You quickly let them go, telling them to drive home safe and sound before going back inside. Gojo continues to wave, yelling one last “thank you!” as he drove the car with one hand.

After returning, Nanami didn’t utter a single word to you. You both cleaned up the place immediately, but no words were exchanged. Only the music in the background prevents the house from being dead as a cockroach. After an hour, only the desserts were left to pack, and you do just that. Nanami went in and out of the area, seemingly looking for something. You cannot make out the mutters he whispers to himself as he paces around the different rooms. Then he’s gone for a few minutes before he comes back. 

“Please don’t touch my pictures next time,” he ordered as soon as he entered the room, clear and cut-throat. You were in the middle of putting away the tiramisu and with a twist of your neck, you tilt your head. But I didn’t. I only went there for scissors and ribbons.

“Huh? What? I didn’t touch it,” you say as your hands stop moving.

“Just- It’s childish and rude. I know you really want to know more about me, but just don’t touch my things next time,” he mutters, wiping his face. He’d gotten used to his siblings touching his things as teens, but he never did like it. 

Hurt by his quick judgement, especially after the silent treatment, you snapped with an arm on your hip, “Okay, but I didn’t. What did I even do?”

“Nothing,” he quips, his eyes piercing through you, “Clearly nothing.”

Your lips twitch as you stare at him with widened eyes, “Nana-, where is this coming from? I didn’t touch anything.”

“It was in your office. You don’t have to lie about it. I don’t know if you got curious from the weird comment you made about high school but don’t touch my photobook. Not this one, alright? Please.” and without giving you a chance to reply, he leaves the room. Leaves you standing with an aching heart and burning eyes – holding the tiramisu that you specifically made for him and he never ate.

“Okay. I won’t,” you whisper, not sure if Nanami even heard you.

You always hated when people assume things without knowing your side, especially the ones close to you. You hated having to swallow your words to not sound as though you were trying to argue or prove yourself correct. Even if you were in the right, you feared accidentally hurting others. So, when fingers were pointed at you, you’d stand your ground while eggshells surrounded you. Carefully choosing your words and looking at their reactions. Crafting a response to ease the situation. After all, that’s also what you’ve done growing up. Carefully crafting your reaction and response whenever your parents fought and came to you for an ultimatum. Careful with your words and actions as a kid so your older siblings do not get in trouble, because “they are in charge of you.” Over 20 years later, the habit diminished, but did not disappear.

OldestSon!Nanami who later that night gets a text from Yuuji reading, “Nanamin!! I’m so so sorry but I opened your photobook thinking it was your wedding pics! If you can’t find it, MAAAYBE it's in the studio office. I asked about it and she said to ask you but I couldn’t find you so I just chose the white one that said best moments. ”

“Turns out it WASN’T so sorry! I forgot it when picking up board games with Nobara from the studio,” Yuuji typed, sending a picture of a random man bawling his eyes out and his hands clasped over his head. 

I messed up, Nanami thought. And he was right. He did.

When he quietly enters the kitchen again, he catches you on the phone talking ever-so-softly. His heart aches at the way he’s noticed you settling with the eggshells all around you while adjusting to this… loveless? weird? limboed? marriage. You leave the room when he’s about to sleep and have yet to quell your hobbies. You joke with hesitation, as if one joke will bother him. You never mix your clothes. Never sit too close to him. Never ask him for favors. Never expect much. Never even tell him your worries. 

Never anything too big, just the tiniest favors, like buying bread on the way home. But never more.

“I messed up so bad,” you whisper, hitting your own head with your palm. 

“No. I know, but I- He was clearly embarrassed. I said all that in front of his friends.” Every time you spoke, you spilled guilt from within, as if you committed the worst crime.

Turning your head, you notice Nanami standing there. You quickly bid Ophenia goodbye, telling her you’ll talk later, and get up to walk towards him.

“I thought you were sleeping,” you say, voice laced with a distant edge. Nanami shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek as you even avoid eye contact.

“I packed away all of the food and dessert. You don't have to eat them if you don’t want to, but I would appreciate it,” you mumble, standing right beside him. Before you can leave he turns and calls your name.

“Let’s head out together tomorrow…  like usual,” he says. He wants to say more, but the words get stuck in his throat. What do I even say? And all you do is nod before heading to bed.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who does stand up for herself, but not in the ways it’s seen or bold. If you told someone the truth, why break your back over trying to prove yourself? If they believe in a lie, even when you told them otherwise, then so be it. You’d never beg someone to believe you or take you back. As relaxed and calm you may be, it doesn’t mean you are easy to manipulate or hurt. 

Nanami is not any better. He, too, has his doubts and walls. He believes you wouldn’t like him, not in the way he once wished to be in his 20s. He’s older now and he has realistic expectations.. Now that you are married, he would never look at another woman. Never. Out of respect and a shame in his heart. He believes you’re the most beautiful, kindest out there. And others?

They… aren’t you. 

And whatever this sticky feeling was, Nanami didn’t want to jump in it. He doesn’t love you. He just… would never look at another. Never. Cross his heart and he hopes to die.

OldestSon!Nanami who gets chewed out by Satoru and Suguru because they couldn’t believe he hadn't told you yet. They can’t believe he let you feel cornered, as if you were in the wrong. Yes, it’s a sensitive matter, but they assumed in the two-and-a-half months, he at least made proper conversation with you. About the past, about him, and about who he is. Even just a little but no! Work, “how was your day,” and meals. That’s it. That's 99% of your conversations.

“You’re an old man making her cry about something you never even told her for fucks sake,” Geto grumbles. Gojo agrees, vigorously nodding along, “Yeah, this is on you. We already apologized for being assholes, but you? Work on talking to ‘er, man. Build the trust.”

OldestSon!Nanami who comes back to you sleeping on the couch while sitting upright, seemingly waiting on him. There was a book in your hands, your phone right beside you. As he goes to wake you up, his hands accidentally turns on your phone and he reads notifications from Ophenia.

 “How are you supposed to know if he…” [never told you??!!] 

He should’ve stopped reading, but he was too curious and wanted to know what had you so stressed. He can already guess.

“Call me when you can!! I’ll listen” *Missed Call*

“Mb! Forgot about time zones! Get…” [some sleep first!]

Before he can lift you up, just like last time, your eyes shoot open and you suck in a breath of surprise, “You’re back.” 

“I am,” was all he could come up with, surprised at how quickly you noticed his presence. Truly he felt ashamed. He hadn’t confronted you yet – not about the awkward turn of events for the house party. 

“Nanami?” you call, and he looks at you humming in return. Eye-to-eye. 

“I want to apologize for my jokes or comments at the party. I know I stepped out of line with your friends, and I’m incredibly sorry,” you say. No excuses. No defense. A full apology.

A pause, then you continue, “But, uh, I also didn’t steal your album. I don’t know how it got there. Maybe I moved it thinking it was mine? I can’t remember. I’m sorry for-”

He presses his lips together and sighs as he sits down on the couch. Daringly, he cups your face and brings you closer.

“No, I’m sorry,” he says, eyes glistened and mellow, “I’m sorry for putting you in that position and making you believe you made a mistake when you didn’t. It’s my responsibility to build a place you feel happy and comfortable in and I’m not doing that. You have every right to joke around as you’d like.”

You look back with widening eyes, pupils dilated and breath increasing. He feels the light warmth of your flat cheeks on the pads of his fingers. 

“ You’re my- You’re not tied down to any expectations, so do as you please. Rule this house however you’d like,” he softly whispers. His words linger on your mind and breath as you sense his thumb brushing across your cheeks.

“I- And Yuuji told me that he was the one to misplace my album… I’m sorry for assuming it’s you,” he admits, looking at you with downcasted eyes. You take a moment looking at him, trying to comprehend the day before and your emotions.

“I’ll take your apology, but… that hurt, you know? I understand that you were anxious about it, but let’s talk through it next time. I don’t- I would never step over your boundaries or space," you say, licking your lips and clenching your pajamas. 

He nods, brushing his thumb on your cheek again. He stupidly wants to hug you profusely while apologizing, but he knew you weren’t affectionate with your friends and family. Would it be too much for you?

So he holds back, talking with his hands now shifted down to your shoulders, “I will. I promise I will. And beside, our lives are mixed now. You have a right to wonder who I was. I noticed… I noticed you adjusting to my habits and I never want you to feel like you have to, okay? It should be mutual.” Your eyes widen before going back to normal. He… noticed? 

You didn’t mean to do so. You liked who you were, you were content with yourself, but you feared this marriage breaking because of you. You wanted him to be the one you end up with for eternity. Did you love him? You don’t know. But was he very important to you and did you start feeling inklings of feelings? Definitely.

“Tell me your worries. Tell me everything you need and want. This house is ours, not just mine.” he says, tilting his head towards the array of picture frames on the shelves.  You nod along as he spoke.

“You too,” you say, playing with the hem of his shirt, “You have to also tell me everything. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but I want to get to know you more… More than anyone else.”

You whisper the words, hesitant that they would scare him off. Knowing he didn’t love you, but wanting him to tell you his secrets as if you were lovers. You speak carefully and low, “I’m trying my best to understand who you are, but if you don’t let me in... How will I know you?” 

He closes his eyes, nodding along before opening them, “I will. I promise, hm? I have my regrets with how I acted, but I’ll be better.”

After a beat of silence, you let out a breath of air, relieved. Your heart rate went back to normal and your brows were no longer in a semi-permanent furrow.

“I will too. Today’s probably not the best time to speak of the past, but I’m always here to listen,” you tuck your hands between your legs, unconsciously leaning into him.

“I am too, please don’t ever think you don’t matter to me. We’re married and I want to make sure you feel taken care of,” he gently says, and again, almost reaches out to hug you. Almost reaches out to comfort you on how emotionally distant you two still were, but he doesn’t actually do so. He thought it went unnoticed, so he clears his throat, moving on. After you two have another five minute talk on fixing the issues, he gets up and tells you he’ll make dinner.

“Hold on , wait,” you stop him. “Sorry, I know we were having a serious conversation, but you did this little,” you stretch your arm out to lightly flail it, “thing. What were you trying to do?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, a little embarrassed for being noticed mid-flail before stopping himself from hugging you.

“I was… going to hug you, but… I decided against it. It was to hopefully ease you.”

“Oh, aw, that’s sweet,” you breathe, smiling downwards before questioning him, “You don’t like them?”

“No, I do. I get them a lot from Yuuji. Unprompted, but I think they're nice, so I almost did it out of habit,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.  You shuffle in your seat, giggling, “Okay- haha- Okay. That’s cute.”

“Are you okay with hugs?” he returns the question, “I don’t want to cross your boundaries.”

You ponder to yourself, playing with your fingers as you shrug, “A little. It takes me a while. I am horrible at hugs and those things, but I won’t bite if you do.” You looked so serious as you said it, too. Nanami couldn’t help but laugh. His body shook as the big hahaha! left his chest. 

“What?” Your hair covers a part of your face as you speak, hiding you from him. It did so when you looked up at him.

“No,” he smiles, sitting back down onto the couch. This time he reaches for your hair, but before he can tuck it behind your ear he simply slides it away from your cheek. “Just… You’re adorable.”

You lean back, eyes flickering and mouth parting as you shout, “What?! Huh? Why?”

“You looked so serious when you said you won’t bite me,” he gives you a lazy smile, the one with his head tilted as he shows his canines.  I’m going to jump his bones, you think. 

“I just have a serious face. Deal with it,” you huff, ‘bothered,’ trying to hide the building warmth of your face.

“Hey… You can bite if you want,” he comments, lips tightening to stop himself from smiling.

“You’re weird, ugh,” your brows furrow as you pretend to be disgusted. In reality, it reminds you of the days of banter with your friends and how filterless you were. Now, he felt like the cozy fireplace you’ve always dreamed of having growing up. The warm fire you bask in while the world spun in cold circles. You grew up desperately trying to keep up the fire in relationships, to keep the warmth and closeness. And looks like you were no longer the only one adding wood to this fire.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who wakes up the next day and sees a new picture among the range of pictures frames. Your wedding photo inside the most beautiful frame of them all in the dead center. You don’t know if it was intentional or not, but that photo was your favorite from your wedding album. The one where you both gave each other the shy-and-awkward smile, both of you a little blushy because you both just became husband and wife. There were petals being thrown in the foreground. No one was in the way at all. Just you two with the gorgeous decoration, hand-in-hand. The frame had a floral look –  a mix of white peonies, blue forget-me-nots, and lavenders.

A big flutter rushes through your body as you imagine him picking the frame, taking out the photo, and setting just right. Knowing him for however long you did, you assume he took a while on this matter. A downwards smile tugs onto your face and your day is made. You know it's bare minimum, but still... He's sweet.

OlderSon!Nanami who comes home to see his favorite dish made for dinner. A surprise to him because he didn’t know you remembered the comment in passing. He only said it once, and that was during your hectic post-wedding party. She remembered. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader and OlderSon!Nanami who slept a little closer that night. His arms reaching out, but not quite on you. Hesitant, but getting there. Both your blankets were nearly mixed and no longer separate. A part of your blanket on his legs and a part of his blanket on your hips. It’s getting there.

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I am guilty of overthinking what I write and how the story goes. I’ve rewritten many of the scenarios and went in circles. Plus, the past few months have been crazy, but it's calming down. Let's pray it doesn't get worse.

I will try to be more consistent in the future with the chapters. But since I also want to post other stories, it might go differently.

Any feedback is appreciated! See you all next time!

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Let me know if you want to be tagged in the future

OldestSon!Nanami, who officially saw you for the first time on the day of the wedding planning, where you requested the wedding be only with family and friends. He was grateful. 

But good lord, if your photos were pretty, then he had to peel his eyes off of you to make sure he didn’t stare. 

OldestSon!Nanami, who wanted to deeply thank whoever chose your outfit that day. Only then to figure out, overhearing you and Gojo talk, that you actually love fashion and dressing up, all the time. 

OldestSon!Nanami, who noticed your jewelry matched his eyes and his heart hummed a little. He must be overthinking it. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader who went through so, so many looks to make sure he’d like it. Panicking even on the day of because “What if he hates it?” Your friends raising their brows ready to claw his heart out if he even raised a single issue about it. They’d never seen you act like this. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader who did, in fact, choose the jewelry to match his eyes. Not because you’re in love! But there was something about him… you don’t know what!

OldestSon!Nanami, who wanted to not judge you from your birth position as the youngest of your siblings, but (judging and hearing from others) the youngests are often rude and spoiled. He chuckles knowing his own sibling is like that, minus the rude part. They’re just… blunt.

Still, he made sure you were okay and comfortable during the planning. Nanami just hoped you both wouldn’t clash from your differences

YoungestDaughter!Reader slowly felt her heart flutter just the tiniest bit a his kind gestures, despite being guarded. Bare minimum, but thoughtful nonetheless.

OldestSon!Nanami, who was shocked that your parents wanted you to get married so soon after the proposal, but according to your parents and his, “The clock is ticking.” In a month?! You obliged and he, who had been hesitant at first, also agreed.

OldestSon!Nanami managed to take you out only once before the wedding. For him, no feelings were involved. It was to a fancy restaurant, where he paid for everything and was confused why you took your card out. Who noticed the faint blush on your cheeks when you put your card back. He didn’t comment or ask you about it, thinking you did not want to be asked. You were glad he didn’t.

OldestSon!Nanami stupidly asked you about everything except yourself! Checking if you ate. Checking if planning if going smooth. If your parent(s) and family members are okay. Everything except yourself. He, too, only spoke of everything except himself. Okay, actually maybe you did talk about yourselves, but it was only about your professions… Does that even count?

OldestSon!Nanami who took you for a walk through a beautiful public garden lit up with pretty lights. Who couldn't help but take a photo of you leaning down to take a good look at the flowers. One without you noticing, another when you caught him with his phone up and you gave him a sheepish smile for the photo.

In the three hours you were together, he had intrigued you and you’d intrigued him, but it goes nowhere else. 

OldestSon!Nanami who, by the end of the date, when driving you home apologized. “I may not be the love you're looking for and… I can’t guarantee love will flourish, but I will treat you with nothing but respect and care. If you want to break off the wedding, I would never hold it against you,” he whispered. 

Dropping you off home utterly confused and even a little sad. A mixture of emotions, actually a circus of emotions. Both good and bad.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who couldn’t sleep from the thought of Nanami being unhappy in the marriage. You were close to breaking it off, only to stop when your family looked so happy and sad sitting in the living room, because you’d finally agreed to marry!

OldestSon!Nanami and you both see each other in the wedding venue and he could faint right then and there because of how insanely pretty you look. He could barely handle the heat that rose to his cheek whenever you’d give him that sheepish, awkward smile.

So, so pretty! Too pretty! You knew what fit you.

You, too, bursting for the inside over how good he looked in the color you picked out. 

OldestSon!Nanami who continuously stole glances throughout the night and found himself intrigued by your voice and whenever you spoke.

OldestSon!Nanami, who damn nearly broke off the marriage after hearing about your age from Gojo, who had asked one of the bridesmaids for your age. Gojo then proceeded to make a joke about Nanami being a pervert.

OldestSon!Nanami, who now felt bad marrying you, wanted to apologize if you felt obligated to marry him. Who wondered why his parents would want such an age gap for his marriage. I mean… yes you both are adults but 12 years?!

“Didn’t you know?” Gojo snicked, only to raise a brow when Nanami shook his head.

“I assumed we’d be a few years apart.” Nanami admits his fault.

Gojo laughed. “She even looks her age, you idiot. Did you even ask her?”

OldestSon!Nanami who felt his stomach drop when the realization set in. He never asked you much about yourself. About your job, yes. But not… you. Not because he didn’t want to but your conversations never went there. In the hours you two were alone, which was albeit awkward, the conversation flowed from one topic to another without ever crossing into anything particularly about you or him. 

OldestSon!Nanami felt a burn in his chest when he saw Geto and Gojo talking to you. You gave them a cute smile too. He wanted that.

OldestSon!Nanami put the ring on your finger with the gentlest hands. You felt your heart swell.  He felt your hands return that softness and he almost cracked a smile when your finger brushed over his ring with gentle eyes, as if to comfort him and say, “I don’t regret it.”

OldestSon!Nanami and you were happy the wedding went smoothly. Much more smooth than Nanami thought it would. Nothing was out of place. Everything went as planned, and when things went “wrong” it quickly got resolved.

There were tears, but you surprisingly didn’t cry much at all, like he expected. He thought you’d be more sad to leave with him. After all, you’re only known him only for a month and you now had to leave your family. All your older siblings were all crying, why weren’t you? But he chose not to think too much into it. Maybe you just weren’t a crier. 

OldestSon!Nanami got a pat on the back from all his friends, those who stayed with him since high school. He was the last of them all to get married, after all.

OldestSon!Nanami gave respect to your family, guaranteeing your safety. He thought you’d stall your time with them when hugging, you did for a little while, but not as long as he thought you would.

OldestSon!Nanami who was in the car with you in near silence, other than the humming of the song the driver played. You hadn’t asked him anything, and he didn’t ask you anything until… 

“Why did you marry me?” you calmly asked looking out the window. Your voice was quiet.

He stayed silent, not wanting to say anything that would give you the wrong idea. 

He took a few seconds before responding, “I… My family liked you.  If they chose you, I thought you’d be a good fit.”

“Oh,” you replied, and before he could say anything, you added onto it, “I did too. I didn’t think I’d get married this year, but… here I am.”

He licked his lips, nervous for some reason.

“Did you want a love marriage?” he casually asked, just curious. You still looked off to the side.

You shrug, “I don’t know. Maybe, but also maybe not. I didn’t think I’d get married.”

OldestSon!Nanami who agrees with you. Revealing that he wanted a love marriage, he hoped to fall in love with someone, but was okay with this too. Who reveals that he doesn’t know how this marriage would go, but he’d never hurt you. 

“You’re my wife. I’m your husband. Until the end, I will be,” he says.

OldestSon!Nanami who fails to notice the glossy pricked tears in your eyes and blushed cheeks. Because you, for some reason, foolishly thought there was something between the silent glances from the past month.

OldestSon!Nanami who guides you to the room, letting you know that he’s okay with sleeping in a different room, he’d been preparing another room anyways. Only to be shocked when you refuse.

You tell him that you don’t mind sleeping in the same bed, but you avoid his gaze when you say you just don’t want anything else happening. 

OldestSon!Nanami who helps you prepare to sleep, removing anything you need help with. In comfortable silence, with only a few grunts of his confusion with the riddle of a dress and hairdo, he helps you undress, stepping out of the room after he unzips the back of the dress. 

OldestSon!Nanami who changes in the guest room to avoid making you uncomfortable. Who looked at you for many seconds straight seeing you in your pajamas when you softly told him you were done. Cute… So, so fucking cute. OldestSon!Nanami who wondered what was the black silky thing you hid away in your duffle bag right when you saw it on the bed. Letting it go, assuming you didn’t want him to notice.

OldestSon!Nanami who sleeps next to you that night, both of you turn back to back. Not out of malice or hatred, it’s just both of you being nervous and embarrassed. 

OldestSon!Nanami went to sleep wondering what this new life would be like. Who failed to see the tears that fell from your eyes that night. 

You, who felt so, so nervous and guilty. He wanted to marry someone he loves and now he married you because his mother found out you were single. You, who wanted to apologize for getting in the way of his love story. You, who turned towards him, wondering how you can make this marriage work. Because even if you started to feel some inklings of what seemed to be like? Love? Would he return those feelings?

OldestSon!Nanami who fell later, but fell much, much harder.

Part 2

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I will probably change this up a little bit soon or fix things up, but you get the gist!

This went one MUCH longer, than I thought... Clear credits for the characters to Gege Akutami (obviously), but this plot and these versions of the character are of my own (maybe OOC sometimes), so please refrain from plagiarizing.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who was ovulating and trying not to foam at the mouth whenever Nanami left the shower in the past few days. You tried not to look too long whenever his sweatpant rides too low or his shirt clings to his abs and biceps as he stretches out his tired body. You just close your eyes and look away.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who has never been touched nor quite exactly with anyone because you never had the time nor the emotional trust. And now, for you, it was Nanami or no one. You were going to make it work… Even if you two never end up falling in love. Still your attraction to him did not help a single bit. Not when you knew he didn't feel the same attraction. Everyone can see he’s a fine man. Chiseled face with beautiful eyes and a deep voice that beautifully churns your stomach. 

He returns to the bathroom and your eyes sway. One second focusing on yourself, the next on him. He spoke to someone on the phone, then pokes his head out of the door.

“Suguru is having a small party tomorrow at his place. Would you like to go?” After a beat of silence you shake your head, “I appreciate it, but you should have fun with your friends. You rarely get to see them on your own.”

“Well, I’m sure Suguru would like to have you there,” he counters, his phone near his ear. Before you can respond you hear a voice loud enough to muffle through his phone. Nanami flinches and places his phone on speaker.

“Hello?” Suguru tests and you reply. You swear you heard Gojo yell “Tell her I said Hi~ pretty!”

“I’m positive she heard your loud ass already,” he says, chuckling, “Anyways, if you don’t come, Nanami is banned from coming.” So yeah, you didn’t end up refusing to go.

OldestSon!Nanami who found out you were a virgin (not that it ever mattered) during said party. Tiny one considering it was only Geto’s close friends. You insisted he go alone on the day off, but he insisted you join.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who thinks Nanami is forcing himself to include you, something you didn’t want him doing. You didn’t want him to pity your long distance from family and friends. But honestly, he actually would rather stay home with you than leave for a party without you. He even showed you proof of Geto texting in their group chat (one they had since high school) warning the others to not let Nanami in or to kick him out if he came without you. They already knew Nanami wouldn’t even consider going without you.

You were still a little on edge after the hosting. Of course you weren’t mad at them, but you still wanted to tiptoe around what left your mouth. You don’t want to accidentally bring up another horrific memory.  Yes, you have trust issues, but you’re working on that. And besides, you don’t expect everything to be perfect all the time. Marriage has its own ups and down, you just need to go back and work together to patch the open scars and still itchy bothersome flaking scabs.

You look around, every single person familiar with your hosting. Everyone gathered in groups, but still in the same area, particularly Geto and Gojo off to the side sitting together. One was always with the other. So far, you noticed there was never a moment where Geto was somewhere Gojo wasn’t or the opposite. Same thing for the junior trio. Megumi, Nobara, and Yuuji were always together, which you later learned was because they spent all of high school and college together. Trauma bonding and training then going into the same company their seniors applied to – Sorcers. (You just found this out from Yuuji going on and on about how much he looked up to Gojo and Nanami, and made it his mission to work under them.) 

Per usual, to spice up the party, Gojo recommended the adult version of “Let’s Get to Know Each Other.” Gojo absolutely loves card games, especially the bonding one, so he was bound to bring it up in your presence at some point.

The rules were simple. Each person picks a card and asks everyone else the question on there, as long as they answered the question first themselves. No one was really drunk, perhaps a bit tipsy. But since it was a Sunday, nearly everyone laid off the alcohol.

Geto, being the insane person he is, asked the question without any hesitance, “Oh, this is interesting. Where was the craziest place y’all had sex? Mine… It’s gotta be the room in the train with the unlocked sliding door.”

One by one his bold friends followed suit. “Shit, yeah…Honestly, me too.” What? Did they tag te- “Her cheating ex’s car.” Woah. “Outside in a high-rise, on his balcony while it was thundering” “Nearby a cliff!” And so on. 

You found their answers insane, but to each their own. You have your own wildness. Nanami, despite his initial hesitation, answered with a sip of his black tea, “The bed.” Queue the bunches of boos and sighs.

“So boring,” Gojo huffs, only to notice your quiet demeanor. Feeling a little wicked, he waves his hands over to you.

“You didn’t answer!” he announces, making Nanami look your way. And for some reason, he was torn with himself. One part of him wanted you to answer, another wanted you to shy away from it so no one knows. He wanted to figure it out. He wants to be the only one to know.

You meekly shrug, shaking your head, hoping to slip out of answering only for Shoko to ask again.

“We’re all adults. No judging. Trust me, nothing you’ll say will be worse than anything that leaves their mouths. They never grew up,” Shoko chuckles, pointing at the grinning duo with long black hair and wispy white locks.

“I don’t have one,” you quickly say, as if wanting to brush past it.

“Oh, I get it! You can’t choose? Same, it took me a while, but you have to choose! Chop chop! And don’t look to Nanami for help,” Gojo hastes. You dryly laugh, looking around as everyone stares back at you. It was a tad awkward being the only one in her 20s, while everyone else was at least in their 30s. People with more experience and first-hand knowledge.

Scratching the back of your  head and eyes avoiding everyone, you answer, “I actually don’t have one. As in… Like… I’ve never had sex, so... Yeah.”

Silence. Most of their mischievous faces drop in guilt or surprised. Nanami’s heart pumped blood more rapidly than he’s ever felt before. He carefully looked at your expression, wondering if you felt embarrassed, and was ready to divert the conversation. He just never expected to indirectly tell people that you two have never even had sex yet. You two were just never close enough to do so.

“Oh. Oh, shit. My bad,” Gojo apologized with an octave raised. Profusely, as he glances from you to Nanami and back to you. You chuckle, waving your hand to air out the sudden turn of events

“Don’t be!” you say, “I just… wanted to, um, wait. I am not rushing to have sex.”

Everyone hums, not focusing too much on your answer. Partially because they knew how Kento was. Partially because they knew this was arranged. You both barely knew each other, and even if you recently got closer, it is a matter between you two. It was not a hidden fact.

And Kento? He’d never make the move if he thinks you’re not into him. And to him, you were far, far from interested. If he could, he’d gently cup face, pull you into him and swallow your breath away. Steal you away from the room and leave red marks all over your neck and chest. Ask you to open your leg and let him please you. And as disgusted as he felt with himself, his pants grew tight as he strangely marveled at your shyness.

The next set of questions were equally intense, but at least you got to know who would have a threesome and who did what in a public space. With no experience, you had the privilege to skip over answering a lot of the questions. As shocked as you were, you wouldn’t be ‘better’ because you know how crazy you’ll get once you get a taste. And you would be lying if you said you didn’t think of Nanami inside of you at least once.

But that’s just a dream. You would never force Nanami to be intimate if he did not want to. Husband or not. You can deal with your high libido on your own.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who notices Nanami’s half-lidded eyes and looks back. You smile with an upward nod. He smiles back, waving his hand with a ‘nothing’ and adjusts himself in his seat. It took a lot for you not to drag your eyes down his tight dark blue shirt, his chest pressing against them as his sleeves were pulled up. Have mercy… You internally chant. And with you currently ovulating? Yeah, not looking good. You’re now constantly thinking about him – craving him. And needing him to at least touch you. 

As for Nanami, your dress – satin black with pretty gold jewelry that cinched your delicate waist – did nothing to help the growing flush on his cheeks. You adorned yourself with gold and hints of silver, plenty of jewelry to make you the most beautiful in the room. As you walked about he heard the little clinks of your jewelry. Oh such music they were to his ears. Despite being your husband, he was hesitant to take glances at you. He knew himself. One thought and his cock would definitely show how delicious he thinks you look. If only he could be the one to wrap his hands around your waist instead of that chain. 

You noticed how much noise your jewelry makes too. It’s not the attention that you like, rather the way the adornments make you feel. Whole and pretty. The metals clink and clink, grounding you with yourself, grounding you in the present. You’ve kept yourself hidden away for so long, and won’t do that again. The moment you gained the confidence to wear whatever your heart desired, you became unstoppable, perhaps a little attractive to yourself. Self-confidence is never bad. Of course, you limit yourself to what is appropriate to the occasion, but you feel good wearing what you wear and that’s what matters. 

And today, you definitely went all out, for yourself and a little for the man who refuses to touch you, even the tiniest bit. Anyways, you knew Nanami’s attention turned to you whenever you were near, and you knew that culprit was none other than your jewelry, especially the delicate anklet that made the ever-so-soft ring! 

Yet the first to comment on it was not Nanami, rather…

“You sound like a bell when you walk by,” Yuuji grins, standing tall with gleaming irises. He exclaims how soothing you sound when you move about. A real life chiming bell, if you will. He beat Nanami to it, who was going to tell you, sooner or later, that you reminded him of the softest memory of windchimes. And the jewelry that adorned your body, the melodies that sound as the wind passes by. If only he could be the wind to always hear every single sound you made, he’d die happy.

Yet there they were conversing with Gojo and Geto,  leaning against the table as they spoke to you. Both on either side, almost trapping you away from Nanami’s gaze. Gojo looks back, shooting Nanami his infamous mischievous grin of what’re-you-gonna-do-about-it before turning back to you. The idiot leans towards Geto, whispering something perhaps indecent or foolish, and both just smile like cheshire cats.

OldestSon!Nanami who knows if those buffoons set their eyes on you, Nanami might just be ruined. I can’t let that happen. He knew he was good-looking, but those two? They’re charming and hypnotically hot. And most definitely a little interested in you by the looks of it. And seeing them lean over you like that, smirk and smiling? His heart ran burning hot. Steaming, actually. He wanted to pull them back by their collar and carry you away to keep you with himself. But he knows the ring on your finger suffices to calm the burning sensation in his chest. He was already your husband and nothing will ever change that.

“-nami,” Shoko finally manages to get his attention. He hums at her and she then hands him a random box of croissants she found in their kitchen.

“I asked if you wanted some.”

“Oh, no thanks,” he quickly blurted before focusing back on you. Shoko follows his eyes and it clicks. He’s preoccupied with his “foreign” feelings, something he’s perhaps unaware of himself. Otherwise, he would've 100%  snacked on the infamous croissants from Bakeloft Toasties. 

As they spoke, your eyes noticed two sparkling silvers in the dim lights, so you looked down. Ring on both their hands. Not just any. Matching ones. A set. Both engraved with SG and a beautiful matching pattern. Suguru’s with a hollow circle engraved and Satoru’s with a filled one.

“You’re engaged. Married?” you suddenly question, wide eyed and open lipped. No wonder they were always together, glued and unrippable. Two peas in a pod. 

“Oh, you didn’t know we’re married?” Geto smirked, already knowing the answer – it was fun to see you process it in real time. “Thought you were into it. Double the fun, eh?” Gojo chuckles at the interaction, liking the frazzled look in your eyes. 

“Into it?! I- Whuh?” you blabber, caught off-guard for the first time in a long time. They both let out raspy laughs, Gojo nearly setting his head on your shoulder.

“Kidding. Kento’s watchin’ and it's fun to tease him,” he whispers, signaling his head backwards. You look past his shoulder and notice Nanami’s gaze pin straight at you, or Gojo, or Geto. Or both. Or all. You don’t know. But you did know that his unwavering, deadly stare made your stomach churn out of excitement and worry. This is the first time he’s reacting like this. You are partially right. It’s your first time noticing it, but has turned green several times already.

“He’s got to be jealous. Look at ‘im holding the glass,” Geto mocks Nanami, squeezing his hand into a tight fist around an invisible glass and hunching over with squinted glaring eyes. You couldn’t but burst a loud baha! at the gesture, only to cup your mouth out of embarrassment for the way it left. They duo turn to look at you and then cackle at your blushing cheeks.

And boy, were you in for it because Nanami's eyes went from pin straight to wavering and low, looking away as if he interrupted something. You know that look, you knew from the thousands of stories you’ve read and dramas you’ve watched that he was reading too much into it. You knew from the indirect words and gestures within family arguments that this will cause some misunderstanding.

So you excuse yourself from the white-black haired couple and quickly walk over to Nanami, planting yourself right next to him. 

“Um, is everything okay? I noticed you were a little frazzled,” you ask, cutting to the chase. His brows twitch as he looks back at you, before nodding.

“Yeah, it’s…  I don’t want to say it right now, but,” he leans in, lips whispering into your ear, “It seems like everyone makes you openly laugh except for me. The kind that leaves your belly aching. It sounds childish, but are you not… happy? ”

“Now that’s wrong,” you whisper back, “Well, sort of. I laugh and smile freely with people I like. It’s not that you don’t make me laugh or happy, it’s just…” You don’t know how to say it.

“It’s just?” He asks, voice low and tickling your neck. You focus sorely on him and blacking out anything outside of the view you have. His eyes quiet and softly squinted, lips glistening from the lick of his tongue, and body brought forward but head tilted to look at you. You suck in a sharp breath, looking away from his thick gaze. 

“I don’t want to laugh weird in front of you. I laugh weirdly, not into the quirky I’m-so-uniquely cute way.  Sometimes it’s quiet and twitchy, other times it’s shaking the room,” you say, your voice reaching him despite the growing banter  in the background. 

“I want to hear you though,” he whispers, “quiet or not. Laughter and everything else. Let me hear you.” And you turn your eyes and meet his hazel sunkissed ones. Again, your stomach flutters and the saliva in your throat makes its way up and down your throat, lodging for a split second before you gulp it down.

Your mind plays an unfair game with you and flashes an image of Nanami choking you as he roughly kisses you and ravishes your body. So quick that you couldn’t think of how or why it even happened.

He’s talking about expressing. Nothing dirty. Why on Earth are you thinking about it right now?

Maybe it was the atmosphere or your ovulation or your overwhelmed mind, but for some reason, you hover your hands over Nanami's lap, shaking it to sound the bracelets and bangles. Jingle! Jingle!

“Is this good for now?” You smile, showing some teeth. He chuckles and wraps his hands around your wrist, a visible gap between his fingers as he does so, and pauses. When you don’t take your hand back nor complain, he shakes your arm. Jingle, jingle! Jingle! Trying to make the noise again himself.

“You’re the prettiest windchime,” he mutters, brushing the back of your hand, with a soft smile and a bit of his teeth poking through. And your heart skips a beat before your body burns hot. 

I’m so not ready for the future. You knew you were trampled the second those words left his mouth. How can you ignore the way your heart races and skips with him? How can you ignorantly say you only look at him without any thought to it? How? When you look for him the moment you come home. You spend your night in ache wondering if he’d ever lean over and wrap his hands around you. You try to force the overflowing feelings into Pandora’s box only for it to be true to its myth. Now you can only hope he, too, began to love you the same.

And with the way he looks at you, right this second, you’re curious if it’s momentary or forever.

“Well,” you whisper, leaning away from Nanami, “Maybe if you’re the wind, you’ll have me chime the melody everyday.”

“I’m the wind already. Am I not?” he says, lifting up his hand to show the silver ring.

You firmly press your lips together to stop the huge grin from plastering onto your face. You heat up rapidly, looking away to hide anything that shows how easily that got you.

“You’re so annoying,” you blurt out, hand combing through your hair, as you bend away from his view. He’s going to kill me. 

“If I’m the only one that is, then I’m honored,” he says, and you can just hear the teasing grin that plays on his face – the same one that your siblings used on you to further annoy you. You don’t reply, but you do grunt.

And what doesn’t help is Geto and Gojo giggling up with each other on the couch as they look straight at you. You just shake your head  with a psh!

Taking a deep breath in, you decide to tease back (even if it was too late), “You can make me feel more if you took the risk, but not anytime soon I guess, hm?”

Nanami, too, could not control his mind from showing a far-from-appropriate scenario. He clears his throat, pulling away from the ring of whispers you two created. A bit to the lips before he smiles at you, eyes sharper than expected and a glimmer that you couldn’t quite place into a category. Teasing? Excited? Humored?

False. All Nanami could envision is the snapshot in his mind. Oh how pretty you’d sound if he thrust into you as his hands wrap around your bangle-adorned hands. Clink! Clink! Clink! with your dumbed-down mind taking his fat cock. Cut scene.

“I’ll hold you down to your words then. Someday,” he softly says, so casually you go to war with yourself to decide if he intended that with or without the connotation. 

The drive back was not silent per-se, but you two were avoiding meeting gazes and keeping minimal conversation to boring topics. Work, what to have for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and so on. 

You couldn’t help but remember the lingering grin on Geto and Gojo’s face as you two drove off. You don’t even want to assume what was on their minds.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, placing your feet under the sheets as Nanami turns off the lights. 

“Goodnight,” he whispers back in the dark. The bed dips from his weight. Recently, perhaps two weeks ago, you two developed a habit of talking about something before sleep, but today it’s dead silent. The constant tick-tock tick-tock of the clock louder than your own breath. You don't speak, nor does he.

That night you and him slept facing away from each other. Not out of petty anger, distrust, or distance, rather out of the dangerous, dangerous tension that threatens to turn the silent room into a fit of bucking hips, begging, and hazy kisses. 

Nanami’s resolve was made of iron. Once he sets his mind to a  goal, ideal, or method, it’d take an eternity to break it out of him. But even iron has its melting point, and his is you – your eyes, your smile, your allure, and a single touch of your skin. His resolve to not love you, not want you, not desire you, teeters at the edge of an abyss. Once he’s in, he’s in, and it’ll take hell and back to bring back his resolve to push you away.

One small touch, one word, and one single shift would be enough to change the tides. A slice of heaven you were aching to taste, but maybe it’s too early to have a sweet tooth. And maybe you weren’t ready to face the fire in your heart just yet.

You woke up on top of him, back faced up and nearly half your body used his as a bed. Your eyes flutter open to see Nanami’s eyes twitching underneath the hand that laid over it. The other one planted right next to your hips, centimeters away from caressing it. You think it’s a mistake when you hear him curse, lips glistening after he licks them. 

I must’ve moved around in my sleep today. Usually not the case, but occasionally happens. Feeling your eyelashes tickle the divot between his neck and jaw, Nanami slowly looks down, already awake from whenever he woke up. His blown eyes beeline to yours. Before anything is said, you try to get up, yourself up by the arms. Your open hair splays to one side of your face, curtaining the sunlight, some of the strands hitting Nanami’s face. His eyes close from the impact and out of instinct he brushes it away. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, climbing up a bit more. Your thighs brush against his as you do and your face lines up with his. Lips inches away and noses barely touching.

Initially he was only going to move the strands away from his face, but the second he got a feel of your hair, his fingers combed its way up to the side of your face. His fingers feel the burn of your cheek and the divot underneath your jaw. You could swear you stopped breathing for a second. You lean in ever-so-slightly wanting more of his touch, lips parts to finally let the breath escape. Unconsciously, you move up more, your crotch barely sitting on his thigh with your lips dangerously close to his. Eye to eye, then eyes to lips. It would take only one more inch for your lips to touch. I shouldn’t, but- 

“Can I kindly ask you to get off it? I don’t… It’s difficult for me… when you move like…” his words died down. Huh? With cinched brows, you almost ask him, “get off what?” but it punches you in the gut. You feel the throb! of a semi-hard something against your upper thigh. The same thigh that wiggled its way in between Nanamis’ legs in sleep. It’s his-!

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!  I didn’t mean to do that! Sorry. I’ll, uh, get dinner, no, breakfast… breakfast started,” you shout, face running cold as you bolt out of the room. You heard him call out your name, but you pretend to not hear. No way were you going back there. Your hands shake as your brain accelerates the overthinking. I made him uncomfortable. I’m so stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! He’ll be so mad! On and on and on and on your brain goes.

You don’t speak to him when he enters the kitchen, facing away and refusing to even look at him. Hints of disgust at yourself and your desires. A small part of you wished to know if he got hard because of you. If he was holding back from grinding himself on you. But if he asked you to move, then that possibility is out the door. 

“Look, about this morning… Rest assured, I’ll forget it. Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he says, standing behind you as your finish breakfast.

“It won’t happen again. I’ll make sure we don’t touch each other. I’m sorry,” you mumble, gulping down the guilt that eats up at your brain. Sighing, Nanami leans over you, trying to make you look at himself. You tilt your head up, your eyes connecting with his soft ones.

“You’re allowed to touch me. If you’re worried about making me uncomfortable, then that is not why I told you to move,” he says, eyes scanning your worry-striken face.

“Then why?” you ask, softly. He doesn’t respond, lips parted, but no sounds make it past them. 

“It’s okay if you did-”

“I did not want you to feel obliged to assist me with my issue. We may be husband and wife, but our marital duties do not need to include sex if you don’t wish.”

Taken aback, you plainly stare at him, “Marital duties? Wha- Issues?” My eyes twitch at his wording, wanting clarification.

“Yes. We vowed loyalty and to spend the rest of our lives together, but I won’t trap you into activities you do not wish to partake in. You already do the same for me, no?” he hums, leaning against the counter with his palm. Nanami couldn’t quite understand your confusion. After all, he thought the rules and roles were already stamped down. Husband and wife. Partners for life, or for however long you two please. No promise of love, but loyalty remains. Simple, no?

“Well, yes, but then what does our marriage mean?” you ask, looking back at the toast, stuffing the pieces with arugula, tomatoes, and eggs.

“It means what we already established since the beginning, does it not? I did not marry you with the intention of mutual love, nor did you. Or did that… change?” Ouch. 

“I know. Yes, I know that. Nothing changed… Just- Then, are we not allowed to have sex because of that? Certainly we’ll eventually have to explain why we don’t have children.”

“Do you wish to have them?” my ears perk at his question, eyes squinting. With you… I don’t mind.

“Huh? Yes,  I suppose, maybe. It wouldn't hurt, but I don’t want them if we’re not in love. That will mess with their perception of marriage and love.”

“Right... Right, yeah. So what do you wish for? I can’t change my perception of this marriage overnight, but I want to work towards what makes you happy and content. ” 

Say it. Say it. He’s not going to get angry. 

“Be my husband without fear,” you say, cutting the sandwich in perfect halves, “Yes, ask me for my worries and limits, but you can feel what you want, do what you want. I don’t care if it’s lust, anger, or a little in-between of whatever we’re going through.  Hold me, joke with me, be a little mean – anything. Hell, touch me however you want, you’re my husband. If I have an issue, I will tell you..”

You stare back at him, brows stitched together, after setting the knife down. Why should you hold back when the line was already drawn? If he didn’t like - love - you, so be it, but you craved touch and affection like any other. Even if it’s loveless, you want him to touch you, tease you, and treat you like someone who will stay. Not dance around whatever square of needles he boxed himself in to stop himself from being forward. You know he must have desires and needs of affection, so why can you both just… be intimate?! 

“I… I see. I’m sorry. I singlehandedly decided our boundaries for marriage,” his gaze turns solemn and foreign, “What is it that is okay and not with you? Hugging or kissing or-”

“Everything is okay. I’m your wife, Nanami. No one else's. Who- Who else will I go to? What’s so bad about doing what you want? I won’t run away.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes traveling to your lips, eyes, and lips again. He knows he can. He knows he’s allowed. You handed him the green flag, flashed the green light, and turned in all proof of consent, but he can’t. His hands shake and heart pulses erratically. Scared. His voice trapped in his throat when he admits to himself it’s not that he doesn’t want to, he’s just scared to touch someone so… you. All that you are – beautiful, kind, thoughtful, and effortlessly you. 

“I take that as you wanting me to initiate intimacy?” he asks for clarification, clearing the clogged lump in his throat. You nod, licking your lips and brushing off crumbs from fingers. Again, you avoid his gaze. You’ve never been good at asking for things you really wanted from others. Hell, you sometimes fail to recognize what you want from them too. Be it emotions, time,  

You’ve always been a-okay with everything others give. If that’s what they can give you and want to give you, you won’t ask for more.

“If you want to. I also don’t intend to force you into intimacy and sex, just because we’re married.”

His eyes travel back to your lips and then up to your eyes, noticing a couple clumps of hairstrands draped in front of them.  His brows twitch at being unable to see your pretty eyes, so he lets himself reach up. He lets himself tuck your hairstrands behind your ear, sliding down his hand down to cup your face and-

Peck. 

You close your eyes at the tickle of his breath on your left one. You bite your lips, face and neck burning hot. You’e only heard of this happening in books and movies. Never in a million years did you think he’d kiss your eyes – so gently and with that soft look. His hazel eyes held affection and care for a thousand years ahead.

“I want to. And I’ll be better about this. I promise.”

“Yeah… Yeah. Okay, Nanami.” “Kento. We’re married so call me by my name, okay? Don't be so formal.”

EldestSon!Nanami sure knew how to tease. Years of practice made him perfect at it. 

Days pass from that day and neither of you had the guts to make another bold move. Your conversations with Nanami weren’t different per-se, but you noticed the tweaks. His head didn’t lean forward to listen to you a little more, his eyes were more focused on other things, and his answers were shorter. But you’ll admit you, too, were avoiding the strange blossom in your heart – the flutters, the kicks, and the sudden trembling. 

How do you stop your heart from slowly becoming his? Even after establishing that touch and intimacy was okay, how do you even start?

EldestSon!Nanami who has lived without attaching strings or feelings to people. He’s done it once only, and it hurt like hell to have lost them, so he carefully, hand picked who he lets in his space. Even then, not too much, not too little. What if you turned out to love another man, despite being his? Just like her? He trusts you… He does. So why is it so hard to let his heart open its door to you? He can only pray that this insecurity, this insanity, of his does not diminish what he has with you. He never wants his past to write out his future with you. Not you. 

And he, too, at thirty-something, knows you’re not someone to deceive him nor to play with emotions. So at night, when you’re deep in sleep and he wakes up for a glass of water, he makes it a habit to kiss your eyes. The very eyes he felt his heart crack open a door to, pulling you just a little closer to, at least, physically feel how close you two have become. 

One regular afternoon, the tides change. Nanami worked in his home-office while you made some earl grey tea, setting out some croissants for him to chew on. He had been there for a few hours and you thought he could use a break. He wasn’t going to eat lunch for another couple of hours either.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who shows a portion of her care through giving and making food for others and doing small things to make their days easier. Earlier that morning, you already did the laundry and dried them, knowing he’d probably want to wear that black shirt tomorrow. And lo and behold he told you he is looking for it since wants to wear it (only for you to tell him it’s already drying) and thanks you for washing it.

You maneuver the two cups in your right hand, setting the tray of croissants on the hallways table, to crack the door open with your hand. You then pick the plate back up and bump! the door open to scurry inside.

“Nanami, sorry for disturbing you,” you start, gaining his attention, and walk to his desk to stand to his right. You set the early grey and the plate of croissants down, before taking a step back.

“I wanted to drop this off and I’ll be on my way out,” you say, noticing the two documents open on his computer. But before you can turn, Nanami clasps your wrist.

“You can stay. I- It’s a little too quiet in here. I’d appreciate it if you also joined me for tea,” he says, pulling on your wrist to drag you closer to himself. You slowly nod, setting your own cup down. Quick on his feet, Nanami scoots his chair to the side and grabs a chair for you to sit right beside him.

You were the best person to focus with. You ran a strict policy of not talking until the work was done, and you weren’t about to make Nanami lose focus by asking him questions, even if you were incredibly curious. However, ever-the-older-brother sown into his bloodstream, Nanami notices your antsy gaze crawling all over his screen, practically showing the question marks over your head. A smile tugs onto his lips. You reminded him of the college days when he finally came home. His siblings would plop themselves near him and laptop, and ask on and on and on and on about his research.

EldestSon!Nanami who curses at himself for previously believing you’d be a spoiled child, having been the youngest and flashiest of your siblings. A month ago he would’ve considered you cold, picky, and reluctant, but he now sees the small ways you carry yourself and look out for others. You remember how many tea biscuits Nanami likes with his tea. You don’t let yourself sway in certain matters but you still hear people out and understand their perspective. You always make more than enough for meals and baked goods because you anticipate sharing with friends and family. And you continuously make space for others.

He sighs at misjudging your character, perhaps it was also why he was unconsciously averse to being intimate.

Taking a sip of the tea, his heart warms up at the perfect amount of sweetness. Occasionally, he turns to look at you, taking in the flutter of your lashes and the trail of your invested eyes. He wonders if you’d ever look at him the way you look at books. He out-of-the-blue cups the side of your face, pulls you closer, and pecks your eyes. Once again, your face heats up and you touch your lids. A low whine escaping your throat, “You always… Can’t you do anything else?”

“Do what? It's a thank you for the tea,” he hums, a tad bit confused. Is he not allowed to kiss your eyes? You stay quiet, stumped by his cluelessness, mumbling a “nothing… nevermind,” before going back to your reading.

His brows raise as he speaks, “And if you were curious, I’m finishing up a report on the most recent case. Further details are confidential, but I discovered this case matches with…” 

Oh, how ignorant he was to your gaze at his lips and his eyes.

OldestSon!Nanami who brought pints of ice cream the day you casually dropped that you “crave ice cream all the time.” Already becoming like his father, he brings home pints and pints of ice cream - – enough to last half a year. When you smile at him, thanking him over and over again for the ice cream, he has to turn away to hide the red that reached his ears. It didn’t help that you practically squeezed him into a hug, nearly tearing up at the gesture. 

He who, for a split second, wondered how your cold, ice cream-slicked lips would taste. Like vanilla? Like strawberries? Or would he get to taste you? He has to bite his lips and leave the living room to not kiss you, desperately and deeply. 

He, who was seconds away from tossing your spoon and ice cream to the side to add his warmth to your frosted lips. Pull you so close into himself and coat your lips with his own substance. But he feared his own desires. How can he dare to touch someone so precious? How dare he have such thoughts about you?

You, who was stumped when Nanami didn’t respond to your offer to share. He was there one second and the next he wasn’t. You, who didn’t know Nanami locked himself in the guest room, hands over his eyes as he needs to hide you away from his gaze. One more moment with you, be it speaking, looking, or just nearby, and he’ll tear down any barrier he still puts around himself. 

Nanami and you had a normal conversation the next week, and it was normal until it wasn’t. It was about Gojo’s shenanigans, which was fine. Fine until you reveal that you had plans with him that evening. Plans to go to a bakery. Nanami found himself green-eyed and heart pounding erratically. He also liked bakeries. Scratch that, he wanted to take you to his favorite bakeries, but he didn't complain. He also wasn’t going to snatch away your excitement to meet Gojo at a bakery. You were working at your at-home work desk and he was reading in the chair planted to your left, listening to you. 

Every time you look at him, you find him staring at you. Odd when he claims to be reading.

“Are you reading or are you observing me?” you mumble, a light jut of your bottom lip. 

“A man can’t look at his wife as she speaks?” he raises his brow, tilting his head. You let out a huff, rolling your eyes, “Not that. You’re staring at me as if, you know, you’re staring too hard. I feel it.”

“I’m simply admiring you,” he casually drops, eyes still pinned on you, and takes you a minute to reboot. 

“Don’t give me the evil eye,” was the best you can come up with in the panic. You’re quick to reel the conversation back to the outing. 

You mention that it was a certain bakery you’re exploring with Gojo. “Mama mako,” you mumble. Nanami’s favorite one (but you didn’t know), the one he wanted to take you to. He just planned to take you there a month later, when they have their seasonal menu back up. He wanted you to like them too. Still, it was fine. Maybe (it really wasn’t). Humming to yourself in confusion at someone on your screen, you got up to reach for something and he got up with you, for reasons he doesn’t even know. He just wanted to be near. Your fingers wrap around the yellow sticky notes, grabbing it to make notes of reminders and work changes on your desk.

Then you mention, while chuckling, “He said we’d split all the desserts and eat it together. You know, for a taste test the same slice or something.” 

That’s what got him. His mind flashes images of you sharing the same desert from the same spoon. Then quickly flashes Gojo, licking off the cream on your lips, pulling you into a deep kiss. 

Nanami found himself trapping you between himself and your desk, his book long forgotten on the chair. Your body freezes as the bundle of sticky notes in your hand drops onto your desk. His hands grab your waist – not rough though, no. Yet, that’s why it was a little scary. It has your heart jumping – his touch gentle and completely opposite to his dangerously low voice.

“Don’t go,” his lips whispered into your ear, making you gasp. Your hip accidentally bumping to his as his breath tickles your skin.

“Don't want you to go. If you must, I want to go with you. And don’t eat from his hands,” he says, gently turning you around to meet his gaze. His eyes travel to your collarbones and you felt him fighting against his own fence. His fingers dig into your hips and he leans down to peck your eyes. So, for another push, you daringly respond.

“And if I… want to eat from him? We’re not kissing or anything. Maybe tasting it with him won’t be so bad.” Your eyes looked up at him feigning innocence, but he knows this look. The spoiled-brat look that believes you can get away with this, but he wasn’t about to let it slide. His jaw tightens and he leans down closer. His hand runs up to your neck, sliding up your jaw, and then tips your head up! 

“Then I will taste you before he does” he whispers, eyes traveling to your lips, his thumb brushing it. His Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he pulls down on your lip, nearly sticking his finger into your mouth. His breath shaky as he pecks your cheek then right at the corner of your mouth.

He knows you don’t mean that Gojo would taste you. Hell, he knows you wouldn’t even eat from the same spoon. He knows! But boy, did the thought of it rile him up. Your breath shakes as your neck heats up against his own. He pulls you closer and closer, leaning down to tickle your breath. A whimper escapes your throat and your hands snake up to clutch his shirt.

“Do you object?” his lips were millimeters away, eyes hungrier than anything he’s ever felt.

You don’t have a chance to finish shaking your head no as he swallows your hitching breath. Taking your lips between his and you don’t even have the chance to prepare. His arms grab your waist, pressing himself flush against you. You raise yourself up on your toes to match his height, but it's not enough.  He pulls up on your thighs, lifting you and snaking your thighs around himself as he pulls you close. Closer and closer, yet nothing could be close enough. The distance between skin was stifling and he wanted you to be intertwined with himself, until your souls were one. He was going insane at the taste of your lips, intoxicating and, damn it, he couldn’t believe it took this long to kiss you. Curse his scared heart. He should’ve tasted you the second he saw them lick the ice cream off the spoon. They are just as sweet, a hint of strawberry and vanilla.

“Waited- ngh- so long to taste you.”

His kiss was both gentle and rough, slow but mean. Biting and pulling on your swollen lips as he leaned your head back to go deeper, deeper, and deeper!  Your nails dig into his shoulders as a whine rumbles through your throat. 

“Mph-lease! More!”

He pulls himself away, seeing your eyes hazy and you shaking breathlessly. Pwah! Your lips were spared, but then your neck wasn’t. He bit, nibbled, and sucked, did everything and anything he felt like. Leaving any mark he could because you were his – his to taste not Gojo’s. The chains were left behind, unshackled and broken to the point of no return. His lips tugging then tongue soothing the skin on your neck and collarbones. He needed there to be no chance at all of Gojo forgetting you were taken, that you were his. (He knows Gojo would never, but fuck did those damn thoughts get to him.)

Ba-bump! Ba-bump! Ba-bump! You were sure Nanami could feel you pulsing on his abs, but he was not doing any better. His cock practically begging to escape his sweats – a steady beat of ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump against your butt. Up and down, up and down, he lightly teases both you and himself by rubbing you against himself. Your bodies are sensitive, but not enough to let you two have a taste of ecstasy. I want him. I want him so bad.

“Don’t lose your mind yet,” he whispers, chuckling, “What do you want?”

Your session, however long it was, cut short with a ringing phone, especially yours. You glance to see Gojo’s name plastered on there. Vibrating and vibrating. You wiggle in Nanami’s arm to have him let you down to pick up the call, pushing away on Nanami’s chest. Wait, your eyes tell. With your frazzled hair, messy lips, and two unbuttoned pajamas, you speak into the phone, rather quickly.

“Hello, Gojo? W-what’s up?” you speak, an octave higher. Before you notice, Nanami pressed his own ear onto your phone.

“Hey, pretty! Are you leaving yet? I can pick you up since I’m already driving there,” he says, revving his car to resonate it through your phone. You look up, only to see Nanami’s eyes glowing, his lips red and swollen. A depth of desperation and dark green jealousy boiling through them.

“N-no,” you breath, “I have yet to get ready and-”

“I’ll drop her off. Focus on driving competently.”

“Oh! Haha! Yikes, he sounds like he’ll kill me,” he laughs, before bidding goodbye.

That day, you left the house to meet an appalled Gojo, who not only noticed Nanami glued to your side, but also the button-up shirt you wear, when you rarely, if ever, button up your shirt all the way up your neck. You avoiding looking at Nanami also gave him all the context clues he needed. Looking back and forth, Gojo gives a knowing wild grin, nudging Nanami in the stomach with a bounce of his brow.

That day, Gojo also left with a pout when Nanami refused to let him split desserts with you. Even when he tried to feed you, out of the kindness of his heart, Nanami instead snatched the fork from his fingers and handed it to you. Nanami stomached the remaining half pieces and bought you brand new ones. Jealous bastard won’t even let me buy her anything, Gojo internally complains. He really did want to befriend you one-on-one, but Nanami clearly was opposed to that.

OldestSon!Nanami who has to deal with Gojo giving him a knowing smirk for the rest of the damn week because, “You felt jealous of me! Married man to married man! Do you think so highly of me that you assume I’d impress her?” What got Gojo to finally shut up Nanami sharing your handmade flan with him, only if he lets it go – he took the flan and listened.

“So… you like your wifey a lot huh?” Gojo teases, chuckles echoing the hall. Nanami freezes, eyes scrunching inwards, “No. Not in that way. I am simply protecting our marriage.”

Gojo stares at him through those black circle sunglasses with a question mark over his head, “...Right.”

OldestSon!Nanami who didn’t know how to deal with the tingling heat on his face whenever you were around him. You two had conversations throughout the week, but he’d respond with blunt sentences and a cold face. If he was and is angry, you don’t know from what or why. You hoped he’d come to you, but so far, he hasn’t.

As you two drove home, back from his work party, you slid the window down feeling the wind on your skin. Tonight was a little different, you’ve felt the change in the atmosphere. After that kiss, he’s been a little more distant, a little more reserved. Did he not enjoy the kiss? Did he regret it?

He surrounded himself with his friends and coworkers, rather than sticking to you. Now, you don’t expect him to be with you every waking second of the party, but he didn’t interact with you at all. You were left with Gojo and Geto and then he vanished on his own. It didn’t help that your eyes were continuously looking at him, only for him to not even spare you a glance. Frankly, you felt embarrassed. 

Even when you asked him if you two can get a refresher together, his only response was, “You can get one for yourself. It’s right there.” It’s not that deep. Yet, the tone and his ignoring eyes swung a spear through your heart. That was all. Nothing else the entire night. 

You were used to the treatment. Little to no eyes on you since you were young. After all, you had the intelligence for it. Your academics, your slightly mature demeanor, and knowledge made up for any child-like habits you had. The gifted one of your family. The one who doesn’t need help. 

The way Nanami thought you could grab the drink by yourself, in the sea of strangers at his office party, was perhaps because he knew you were capable and carried yourself well, but a little show of care would’ve helped. Maybe, just maybe, a part of you, just like little-young-you back then, wanted him to guide you through the bunch of people new to your day-to-day life.

“Let’s turn the music on,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. You touch the bluetooth to connect your phone to the car’s speakers. The first song playing turned out to be a Japanese song, the beat a little more sensual than you expected for the first song of the car ride to be. 

Considering the lyrics you remember from the music video… Kento definitely heard lines less savory of a regular car ride. Oops.

Without looking at you, his focus on the road, he clears his throat, “Can we shut the music off?”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine,” you whisper, cheeks flushed, turning the bluetooth off. You had a playlist ready for car rides, a mix of songs you both would enjoy. You recently learned that you two surprisingly have similar music tastes, about a 80% match. You just didn’t expect the sexy one of the group to play first. Maybe for another day then.

As he drove with one hand,  he kept tilting his head, almost as if to crack or massage an ache on his neck. A roll of his shoulders before another tilt to attempt to crack it. Unable to stop yourself, you 

“Please- What are you attempting to do?” he flinches away, as if your touch burned him. You retract your hand, surprised by his sudden… irritation?

“I was trying to help your neck pain,” you say, folding your hands in-between yourself, hot blood rushing to your face.

“Just- Please don’t.” Nanami doesn’t know why his pounded heart and warm skin decided to control his speech opposite to how he felt. I want you to caress me. Your touch feels like heaven on Earth.

“Alright, I won’t. I’m sorry,” you nod, not arguing. So we can kiss, but not touch? You don’t mind his boundaries, but figuring them out is just like looking for Waldo. Why is kissing okay, but not this?

As you two come to a stop at a busy red-light, considering it is a Saturday night, you gaze at the bunch of people out-and-about, giggling, pushing, and enjoying themselves. A group of women with their partners passing by and then what seems to be a separate group of guys. 

“Please roll the window up. It’s chilly out,” Nanami suddenly demands. You turn your gaze to stare at him. If you’re not cold, he definitely isn’t. He is a furnace himself. So why the sudden change?

“I’m hot.”

“I will turn the AC on, so let’s roll the windows up,” he tries to bargain.

“No,” you reply, attempting to match his cold responses all night. All week actually. You thought you were going crazy because he was still kind, but his voice and words hinted otherwise. Doing your dishes and laundry, but only humming and shrugging to respond to you instead of full sentences. If he was going to act this way, you weren’t going to tolerate it.

“I don’t want the AC,” you grab the window glass, a childish part of you adamant to get your way. 

“Stop being so stubborn,” he says, harshly calling out your name, “People are out there staring at you.”

“Okay?”

“Men are out there staring,” he mutters, clenching the steering wheel. You stare, dead straight, stare at him in utter confusion. As the green-light strikes, Nanami steps down the quiet road that leads to your house. You had at least 15 minutes of driving left.

“You weren’t even talking to me at your office party, but you want to pay attention to every man that stares at me?” you ask, crossing your arms, turning your body towards him.

He sighs, slowing down on the empty road, “It’s- I’m trying to protect you from guys with indecent imagination. So please roll your window up.”

Your brows, “What- No one’s here,” you point out to them now, empty road.

“Okay, fine.”

“Why are you acting so weird?” you ask, genuinely lost.

“Let’s talk about it at home.” Fuck that.

“Stop the car,” you demand, squeezing his hand. He listens, pulling into a random street parking, turning to face you. No one was around other than the bushes and trees.

“What-”

“What’s the issue? I’m confused too, you know?” you complain, voice hushed low. You unbuckle your seatbeat to sit comfortably. Knowing yourself and him, this won’t be a one minute conversation.  He pulls up all the windows, knowing the same.

“It’s- It’s,” your voice slightly cracks as your frustration and embarrassment seeps through, “It’s confusing when you’re nice one day and distant the next.”

Nothing can describe how hard you had to bite your tongue all week, to not scare him off with how quick you were to notice his behavior. It sure did hurt like hell when you gave a big part yourself to him only for him to not spare you a glance the next day. He even stopped kissing the lids of your eyes. 

“I know it is hard adjusting, but I’m lost too. I don't know how to act with you or what’s okay and what’s not. I won’t do things you don’t like, so please… Please stop being so hot-and-cold with me. If you’re confused, tell me. I’ve said this before, I don’t mind how you feel as long as I know.” You said all in one breath, spilling it out before you scare yourself into balling it all up again.

“If you hated kissing me, that’s fine. We tried it and  it’s not for you. We don’t  have to-”

“Who said I hated kissing you?” his face was worthy of capturing a photo of. The most horrified look, thus far, printed directly on his face. Eyebrows cinched in, eyes wide, and lips twitching. A neck vein popping out a cherry on top.

“W-well,” you stutter, “I thought- You didn’t kiss me anymore after that, so I assumed it. This entire week you just did a 180. No eyes kisses. Nothing. And… Just now you moved away as if I’m disgusting.”

“I-” he takes in a deep breath, wide chest rising a fall as he unbuckles his seat belt to turn to you. 

“I’m horrible at my approach, but please know whatever horrible thoughts you have about the kiss we share are utterly wrong.”

His hands were planted firm on his thighs, playing, “I acted out-of-line and I’m incredibly sorry. This entire week, my behavior is uncalled for. There is no excuse for that and it’s not usually how I’d act. I know my actions should speak louder than my words, but trust me when I say I don’t hate kissing you.”

You nod your head, only to part your lips to ask, “Then why won’t you kiss me anymore? You’re avoiding me.” He doesn’t reply for a second. Your brain immediately freezes up and you swallow the hurt building up inside.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to make up excuses.”

“It’s not that…I don’t have the right words to describe it,” he says, hands wiped over his face. 

“Describe what?”

“That I feel like I need to kiss you for hours. Every single day. And I don’t want something short and sweet. If  we kiss, if we touch, I know I’ll keep going and going…  I look at you, that’s fine, but eventually my thoughts draw me back to the kiss. I feel like I’m a crude teenager again.” His voice low, almost ashamed. You look up at him, not even knowing what to say or react with. Your stomach flutters and tingles.

You lick your lips, eyes skimming down his shirt, “Well, we’re all still our crude teenager-self, just more mature adults. And if your concern is time, then I don’t mind long kisses… As long as you don’t ignore me the next day. ” 

“I won’t. I should’ve known better. I’m sorry,” he looks up at you, his eyes dim and regretful. 

“I know… Thank you. And I’m sorry for being extremely pushy about this, but I had to get this out. I didn’t want this building into something bigger.”

“No! Please, don’t be sorry, certainly not about this. I’m glad you did so,” he softly says. A beat of silence passes by before you ask another question.

“Wait, so you don’t want to kiss me or be near me because you want to kiss for… a long time.”

“Yes, but I suppose there’s more to it,” he answered.

“Like?”

“My hands will wander. I will wander. I can’t do that to you,” his hands go out to pull at the designed string on your sleeve, playing with it. There is a hint of reddish-pink blush on his cheeks.

“Then wander,” you whisper back, your hand pulled on the same hand caressing your shirt with, "You’re the only one stopping yourself." Cue the silence and then he moves, leaning forward.

“Come over here,” he sighs out, reaching out to pull on your waist. You hiccup, mind not anticipating the command, but your body listens. You grab onto his shoulder, legs awkward shifting over the separating barrier. You try to smoothly sit on him, but it does not go as smoothly as you wished.

“Okay, wait- Ow!” you yelp, your knee lightly ramming into the driverside’s door with a thud! He maneuvers his hands to rub your dull knee. Admittedly, it didn’t even hurt, not enough for you to yelp out. It was just a loud bump, but you weren’t complaining, especially not with the rewards. His hand rubbing your knee as his furrow brows and soft eyes question your hurt.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry. I should’ve thought that out better,” he whispers, his right hand going from your waist to your cheek, caressing the skin. You nod, adjusting your seat. Said seat being Nanami’s lap.

“So? Are you… going to kiss me?” you whisper back, breathing ghosting over his lips. He smiles, hands planting itself on your waist to pull you closer.

“I want to. But I don’t have your permission yet.”

“Me sitting on your lap is permission, Kento,” you grumble, pulling on his collar. He looks at you with a ‘really now?’ look at his brows.

“If you don’t… I ‘m just going to call Gojo or Get- Eeow!” you jump as fingers pinch your waist.

“Don’t test me,” he says, tightening his grip on your waist, pulling you forward.

“I don’t like sharing,” he kisses your lids, hands sliding up to pull you closer. His lips ghost over yours, then he smiles into kissing you.

Slow and steady for the first few seconds, but quick to grow desperate. His hand leaves your neck wandering elsewhere off your body. The other pulls you closer to himself, waist to waist, chest to chest. As close as possible. You don’t even notice, but you feel it. His seat draws back, and you lean more and more on him. Your stomach flutters again, the kind that leaves your body growing hotter. His lips don’t leave you for even a second, even as you grow breathless. Breath heaving and lips growing into greed. You practically caged him in, rather he made you cage him in. 

From the eyes of any voyeur looking in, you seemingly took the reins, but they couldn’t be more wrong. He was the one with wandering hands, just like he said they would. From your waist to your thighs to arms, his hands explored and guided every one of your limbs. He was the one that pulled on your neck, to pull your lips in more and more. He was the one wrapping your arms around his shoulders, so you dig your nails into his shoulder as you whine. And he laughed at your breathlessness after every interval. His soft chuckles angelic compared to the throbbing you feel under yourself.

Maybe it was the way his warm hands calmed you down or the way his kisses grew more tender after the long session of desperation, but you were growing tired. He’d be a fool not to notice the way your lips fought tooth and nail to keep up and moving. 

“Is my wife sleepy?” he chuckles, looking up into your eyes. You hum, eyes fluttering open. You nod your head before hugging him with your head dipping into his neck.

“I guess you have to drive home like this then,” you jokingly insist, eyelashes fluttering on his neck. 

“As much as I’d like to, that is a road safety hazard,” he whispers, voice low to not break your steady, tired breaths. You groan, huffing into his neck. You swear he had a built- in heating system because even with the AC on your body felt toasty on his. Lucky him. 

“Come on. Time to leave,” he taps your waist with his thumb to signal you awake.

“Five minutes,” you tell him, mumbling something that barely made sense to him. Frankly, those five minutes were not five minutes because the next thing you know, you wake up in your bed. Your clothes changed, makeup cleaned up, and hair done just the way you would for sleeping. How in the world? 

And Kento? He was sleeping turned towards you with his hand over your waist, holding you closer than any day previous to that moment. On that Sunday morning, you woke up warmer than any other day. 

OldestSon!Nanami who overhears your conversation with Ophenia. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He returned from work to a laughing duo and music playing in the background, so he decided to let you two be. Quietly passing by before said conversation forces him to glue his feet to the floor.

“Girl, TMI but have you guys fucked yet?” she asks, so casually he almost thought he was mistaken.

“You act like we haven’t shared worse, but no. Not yet,” you reply, taking a sip of your tea. Ophenia gasps, swinging her body to face you.

“You- What?!” 

“Well, listen!” 

“No, okay let me calm down. It’s literally your marriage. My fault, oopsy daisy!” 

You chuckle, shaking your head, “Yeah, it just never happened.”

“You don’t think he’s attractive?” her voice raises an octave at the question, lips thinning into themselves. Nanami’s heart raced, dreading your answer. He doesn’t think he’ll bear hearing the opposite. You stay silent for a second before, “Girl, huh- what?! How many times have I told you about how hot he is? I think about fucking him everyday.”

“Then go seduce him or something! He’s yours already!” she raises her arms in the air before slapping it down on the couch with a loud thud!

 “Ophe, I can’t! He probably doesn’t think I’m hot!” 

“Puh-lease! If you're not hot, who is?! Rumpelstiltskin?” You two burst into a fit of laughter and thrashing – his own smile pulling at his lips.

“We kissed though… A couple times,” you shyly admit, “Three… Five…” 

“What?!” 

“He’s a good- great kisser.”

“Mm. Disgusting,” she gags.

“Tsk! You literally asked!” you whine out.

So maybe, just maybe, he did purposefully leave the shower a little extra drenched that night – his towel barely hanging from his hips with his V-line poking through. Pretending as if his boxers weren’t tucked underneath, just for your eye’s innocence if the towel happens to fall. A small smirk tugs onto him when he sees you avoiding his eyes, looking everywhere but him as he speaks to you.

“Do you know where my blue shirt is?” he asks, feigning confusion as he looks down to where you sat. He actually knew where it was. He just wanted you to look at him. And you do. Surprisingly.

He will admit, he did want you to react, take a jab at the line you both seem to still be tiptoeing around. The fine line pretty much nearly disappears into nothingness. So when you hand him the shirt and return to your book, acting normal and cool, he isn’t just disappointed, he is devastated and heartwrenched. He really wanted to see those panicked doe eyes. The same ones that leave his chest a bit full. The same ones that looked for him amongst the crowd of strangers at your post-wedding reception. The same ones that left him wanting to kiss your lids. Begrudgingly, he turns around, shirt in hand and shoulders dropped.

OldestSon!Nanami who leaves the room unknowingly leaving you flushed and heart-raced. You did beeline to the room and simply go back to your book, but how else would you act normal and stop yourself from tripping over your own words. His abs and chest were on full display and your eyes wanted to zoom in, zoom out, and roam. Your hands flush and tingly from your need to feel them under the pads of your fingers. Once he was out of sight, you cup your face into your hands, letting out the deepest sigh of your soul. You’re really unfair, Nanami. 

OldestSon!Nanami who had a wet dream that same night, of getting a taste of your lips and your body. Your nails dig into his back as you wrap your legs around him.  Your cunt clings around his cock as you cry out his name. 

“Ken-Kento please! Anh!” 

He wakes up breathless with his thick, hard cock trapped under his sweatpants, hesitant to even take care of himself because you were right there next to him. Your peaceful sleeping figure made him even more disgusted with his dream, with himself. He gets up and escapes the room, choosing to go to the guest room shower to take care of himself. Pumping his cock to the thought of you under him, taking his cock and pulling him closer. How good you’d look with his cum running down your thighs. How good his fingers would fuck into you. Fuck! He muffled to himself, holding his shirt between his teeth as one hand pumped and the other grabbed the wall. 

Need you. I need you. So bad. So bad!

Oh, you must taste heavenly. From your sweet lips to your slick soaked pussy, he wanted to see your face overwhelmed from pleasure. Blushing and hot. He wanted you writhing under him, cock-drunk and clawing at his back.

“Fuck,” he quietly grunts, pumping out streaks of cum that dribble down his hand and washed away by the streaming water. 

OldestSon!Nanami who goes back to the room ashamed of himself, face laced with a bright shade of red. Namami, who gets hard again when the blanket slips down from your movements – your grey panties with a white lace trim peeking out of your loose pants. All he does is tuck your hair behind your ear, peck your eyes, and go to sleep right beside you, ignoring the throb between his legs. He, who was unusually losing control and composure around you.

From then on, any time he’d get hard, he’d ignore it. He felt dirty thinking such thoughts. So what if you were married? He couldn’t do that to you. 

OldestSon!Nanami who got rock hard every time you two kissed, but couldn’t find it in himself to suggest anything further. Kissing was enough.  He could wait however long you needed. But what he didn’t know was that you too were waiting for him. For him to signal that he wants more, just like you.

YoungestDaughter!Reader weren’t better… Not at all. You’ve seen his veiny arms in short sleeved white shirts before, and his muscles tight against those dress shirts. Your eyes quickly etch that into your brain. You’d imagine his hands wandering your arms, your waist, and your body. His hands pushing you up against a wall, couch, counter, anywhere, to fuck you. Hip to hip, bucking and bucking. His face in the nook of neck as his pounding shows no mercy.

You’ve caught a glimpse of his abs when crouched down, peeking into the hole of the neckline. You memorized the shape of his waist, the way his pants tented up when he walked, and the soft groans that’d escape his lips when he’s frustrated. 

Who can blame you? He’s insanely attractive. And you? You were weak for him. So on nights where Nanami would work overnight, you head to your home-office, sit on your couch in the dark, and touch yourself. Of course, you’d never directly ruin your couch and you did feel guilty and dirty about doing it there. You place a bed sheet under yourself for… reasons. Your hands reenact what you’d imagine him to do, to feel like, to fuck you with.

What his lips would whisper into your ear as he circles your clit with his long fingers, what position he’d lock you in, and his hips bucking into yours. Plap, plap, plap! A low whine leaves your lips as your head leans back on the couch. Would he ever come into your studio and finally fuck you? Would he shove you up on the desk and kiss you until you can’t breathe? You don’t know how it works or how it would feel, but your imagination suffices for now.

Heavier breaths and biting your lips more as the string tightens and tightens. So close

Then, you hear familiar footsteps, the distinct pattern and heaviness already embossed into your brain. Nanami!

You jolted off your couch, before you could cum, so you were frazzled to say the least. A light sheen over your chest, heat running down your back, breath heavy, and eyes glossy. Your lips were already puffy from biting yourself quiet. He was over an hour early.

You heard him make his way through the house with muffled words that you can’t quite hear. Absolutely panicked, you pull your shorts back on, still wet and unsatisfied. You walk towards your door with a shaking body, only for it to shoot out and nearly collide into you. Had it not been for your reflex to quickly step aside, you would’ve bruised up your forehead purple. 

“Oh fu- Sorry,” Nanami nearly curses, eyes widened as you stumble into him. His hands plant itself on your hips to hold you up as you're pressed up against him in the dim lights. Your thin pajamas did absolutely nothing to help the situation. Without a bra on, your nipples were already pebble hard. You were 1000% sure he felt them on his own body. Why else would he freeze?

Already sensitive from the activity, your breath hitches as his hands slide up. Nanami was banging his head against the wall in his own mind. He looks down to see your shiny eyes looking back with upturned brows and puffy lips. In your pretty black pajama set, silk shorts and a slightly unbuttoned top – the lacy kind. His first thought was to question if you’d been crying, but he hates himself for the way his cock jumped as your breath got heavier. He could see the way your skin stuck to your pajamas and feel your body shaking hot.

“I- Uh, you’re back!” you blurt you, shaky hands pulling up your shorts again. He clears his own throat, nodding along, “Yes. I apologize. I should’ve knocked… But I got back a while ago and noticed you weren’t in bed. I thought you’d appear after my shower, but no… I just wanted to check on you.”

“What were you doing up?” he asks, reluctantly removing his hands from your waist. You don’t know what you exactly said, honestly. Something about prototyping an idea for your team’s next project. 

Then, you see his eyes roam your room only to land behind you. His eyes examine the unlit room, everything tidy and put together except for two spaces and the bin in the corner and the couch. Not your table, that you claimed to be working on, but the couch. The bin had always been like that, storing all the miscellaneous items. But the couch, which was always tidy, had a random crumpled grey sheet in the middle and dark spots on said sheet. Prototyping in… the dark? You always do it with lights partially on.

He looks back at you, only to notice you looking away, biting your bottom lip with furrowed brows. Your left hand was tucked into a fist hiding behind the folds of your thin shirt and a sheen over your waterline. Ah. 

Looking back up you see his eyes on your hand, the same hand that was down your panties. Then your eyes meet. Still and neither of you move. His dilated and shaky eyes, and yours unintentionally seductive and inviting.

It takes  every single ounce of gentlemanly composure in his body to reluctantly turn around. He’s not a fool, he can figure out you were taking care of yourself. Yet the thought shook him – you laid down on your couch with your hand inside those cute shorts and moans leaving your lip. Your fingers swiping your nub to relieve all desires and needs. And if he didn’t leave now, he’d snap open the binds and swallow you whole. Why not come to me- Wait no. Stop it. 

But then you call out to him, daringly so, “You- Uh, You don’t want to stay?” Eyes yearning and hand reaching out to tug on his sleeve.

“Is that an invite?” he looks back, glimmering eyes of desire peering down at you in the dim light. Well…

Now here you were, sprawled across your couch, underneath Nanami as he fucks his fingers into you, long deep strokes as you claw at the sheet beneath. Head dizzy and legs open for him, with his tucked under yours. His gaze stuck solely on your wet hole, drinking in every flutter of your body. 

It happened utterly quickly. One second you thought Nanami wouldn’t have it in himself to ravish you and the next he pulled you into a desperately rushed  hot kiss and pushed you back into the couch, fingers pulling at your shirt and shorts.

“‘nami! Please, just, anh!” Your voice was music to his ears. Trembling fingers wrapping into between his locks as he leans back up to see your face.

“Take it f’me,” he moans, breathless and pounding his chest as his cock pulses against his sweats, “My wife sounds so pretty just for me.” 

His long fingers nimbly worked it way down your folds, gliding in and out, in and out, as his thumbs rubs gracefully at your clit. Your eyes lose focus every so often as he changes up the pace, keeping the tempo steady before going off-beat. A little faster here or a little slower there. He paid attention to the smallest sound you made – the hitch of your breath, the shudder of your sighs, and the hiccups as his pumping overwhelms you.  

His eyes were blown wide, entirely amazed by the way your body reacted to him. He was no conservative, but boy did he get rock hard knowing he is the only one who has seen you like this, felt you like this! How could he not? He is the only one who gets to make these kinds of noises escape your pretty lips. Not Ophenia, not Gojo, and not Geto. No one else. Only him.

He slows his fingers, sliding them out to rub your puffy clit a little faster. You hip buck as your mouth opens in a circle of hiccuped breaths. Raising himself to meet you face-to-face, he pecks your lips, swiping his tongue, before tugging your lips into a kiss. His body cages you in, one arm settled right beside your face as the other is nestled between your thighs. Pulling away, he sets his face mere millimeters away, his breath tickling yours. 

“Do you feel good?” he whispers, his index and middle fingers dragging up and down at your clit and folds. You nod your head with a hum.

“So good, really good,” you whimper back, throat tickling from the sensations. 

“Yeah?” his eyes locks in on yours before scanning all the way down to see his fingers, once again, get swallowed by your tight hole.

“Yea-anh!” you choke as he thrusts his fingers inside, his thumbs matching the steady pace on your clit. Your arms claw at his biceps as he chuckles on your lips. His breath mixes with yours.

“You could’ve just come to me, you know? Instead of suffering with your needs,” he says, voice oozing in dark jealousy, “Don’t go against what you preach. Tell me what you want from me. Mild or filthy – if it’s you, I’ll oblige.”

You two barely fit on the couch, more-so him and his large frame. If you were even a little conscious, considering the haziness of pleasure, you’d notice how Nanami is practically unable to fit the depth of the couch. His only support being his forearm and bent left leg.

“‘m sorry! I will,” the cry leaves your lips louder than expected, the uneven pacing making your mind loop between almost cumming and right back to not.

“You have to. Haah! I can’t believe you keep this pussy away from me. She’s sucking my fingers in! Look,” he moans, urging you to look at the view he was seeing. And you do.

You look down to see your hole greedily swallow his fingers, clenching and melting at his meticulous work. How can you not wet nearly the entire sheet when he’s finger fucking you until your brain melts.

“Ngh! ‘nami, wait! It's 'oo much,” you plead, nails wrapping around the front of his shirt pulling him into a semi-hug, your face resting in the crevice of his neck. You smell a hint of amber wood and lavender, a mix of his body wash and wardrobe’s natural scent of cologne collection.

“Let me take care of you, hm? You'll feel good” Your blurry vision tries to make out his face, only to see an outline of messy hair (your fault) and eyes and the pads of your fingers feel the thin sheen of sweat as you pull on his neck

“Nana- Fuh,” you cry out, overwhelmed by the quick rushing waters that flow through you. Nanami notices the fast clench of your hole. Your nails digging deeper into his shoulders and your feet point out as the pleasure envelops you.

“Come on. Come on. Cum for me, pretty girl. Cum,” he kisses your neck, soft breaths urging you closer and closer to the tightening string. Your head goes dizzy from the high as your arched back connects you to him, chest to chest. 

Low whines emerge from deep inside you, noise and moans you never knew you could make. You’d always thought you’re a quiet one, but his touch taught you something else – not quiet with him.

“There we go,” he encourages, pumping and pumping and pumping, letting the end of his thumb complete the job. 

“My wife did so well for me.” He kisses your closed eyelids, the same ones that forced shut from ecstasy. With slowing heaved breaths, you pull on him, wrapping your arms around his back to grind yourself on him – your unclothed pussy onto the open skin right above his sweats. 

“Wanna feel you more,” you breathlessly demanded with glossy eyes.

“Mm, you’re such a, ah, fuck, hpmh, tease,” he groans, grabbing you by your hips to pin it back down onto the couch. He pulls down the sweats and boxers confining his cock. No matter how many times you’ve seen his massive cock outline his pants, denting it as he walks, nothing could’ve prepared you for how thick and long it was. How… How will it-

“I’ll go slow. I promise. We can stop at any time. I swear by it,” he says shakily as he pumps and pumps his cock, looking into your eyes. You nod your head, yes.

 Using the slippery liquid from your tiny hole, Nanami pumps his already stiff cock, a groan slipping from his mouth. Licking your lips, you grow wetter (if that’s even possible) at the view. Your husband flushed red as he fucks his own fist with your juices, hmphs and moans leaving his lips too. 

“Do you want it? Do you want me?” You nod at his questions, opening your legs wider to let him make use of the limited space.

“Please? I can’t wait,” you beg, and he loses any shackles he’s kept on. Pulling your hips, he slides you towards his cock, a gasp leaving your lips as he does. The tip of his cock grazes the nub of between your slit. 

“I’m going to ruin you,” he mumbles to himself. 

He lays his cock on top of your folds, running it along your clit and sliding it down your folds. For a moment, he does just that – thrust his cock on top of your clit. Then, circling back his thick and rounded tip against your tiny hole. Adam's apple bobbing up and down, saliva dripping down his throat at the mere thought of finally getting to have you. If only he could push it in a little…

Then before he can pass through, he stops, “I can’t.” His arms retract his cock back. His mind snaps back into place, into reality and rational, as he realizes where exactly you two were. 

“I can’t have you… like this,” he breathed, tugging his pants over his hard cock.

You collect your breath, brows twitching and pinned together, “Do- Do not want to? Am I not-”

His hands glide down your waist, “No, god, I want to. I truly do. Hah- You look so beautiful, it’s difficult not to, but not here.”

You sit up, tugging on his armsleeve, “then take me to bed,” voiced laced in honey. Your tongue licking your bottom lips, the soft glistening saliva coating it, “Please? I need you.”

Honestly, it wasn’t a big deal. You’ve lived with compromises and changing up your preferences to ease others. He could take you right here and you’d call it the best way to finally get a taste of it. Unconventional, but if it’s him, it's okay. But Nanami won’t - he couldn’t. He didn’t want to risk anything with you. Not with you. The one beaming light in his strenuous lifestyle. He was not going to have your first memory of this be in a dim office-room on the small, cramped couch.

So he lifts you up in one swift motion with his left hand as his right arm carries your house slippers. You don’t even need to worry about falling with his firmly gentle grip on your body, his taut muscles against the thin layer of pajamas or the lack thereof. Needy-you was different and more open. You kept pecking his jaw, wanting the attention that he already happily gave you, sliding your hands around his shoulders to skim your lips down the side of his neck. He effortlessly walks across the hallway with you in his arms. You always were a sucker from strong men.

Thud! The bedroom door slams against the wall as he doesn’t even bother to close it shut. Who will watch? His chest heaving and rock-hard cock strained against his sweats. He tosses his phone and your slipper somewhere, not caring where they land. Gently laying you on the edge of bed underneath himself, Nanami leans down to pull you into a deep kiss. Once, then twice. Then repeat and repeat. His hips bucking against yours and yours raising to meet any friction possible. 

“Please! Please, hurry!” you whined, spoiled pout displayed on your face. Brows frowning as you tug his shirt. He chuckles at your rush, but he was not doing any better. He was sure he’d cum right then and there the moment you two connected. His hands desperately wander, squeezing your breast down to your thighs and back up to your hips.

“How’d I get so lucky?” he whispers, eyes half-lidded and oozing in desire.

But before he can tug his pants down to free his constrained cock, aching to fuck you, his phone rings, vibrations roaring through the bedsheets. He ignored it the first time, but once it rang again , he knew it was an important one. One that definitely calls for overtime. 

“God’s sake,” he sneers, snatching his phone from wherever it was thrown. 

“Hello? What is it that requires such a late night call on a weekend?” he faintly yells, brows knitted together and eyes peering at a random corner in anger. You laid there for a second before getting up to lean back on your hands.

His eyes apologize as his voice busies itself with responding to the call. 

“Fine. We can get on call and discuss it in five. Half an hour is all you’re getting,” he says before hanging up with formal goodbye.

“Work?” you ask, glossy eyes and hazy mind clearing up by the second. He pinches the bridge of his nose and nods.

“Files lost by one of the interns and he accidentally deleted all of its backups from the office’s cloud software trying to copy it. I don’t even know how that’s possible,” he shakes his head, adjusting the strain in his pants.

“Oh, what? That’s horrible,” you mumble, feeling bad for all the workers involved.

“Do you have the copy?”

He sways his head, “Well, I suppose, yes. I have a backup on my USB, but it will take a while since it hasn’t been updated. That’s why Geto wants to get on a quick call to fix it so we don’t have to bother over the weekend.”

You hum, nodding your head, “Go ahead. Work is work. The quicker it’s over the better.” He gives you a straight lipped smile and huffs.

“I’ll be back. Catch up on sleep, okay? If you’re too tired, I’ll clean you up the moment I get back,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

Your cheeks burn up, “I’m fine. I’ll do it myself, hm? Don’t worry. Just come back soon.”

So, unfortunately that night you both went to sleep a little (more than a little) unsatisfied. By the time Nanami came back it was almost a quarter past midnight. After freshening up, you were absolutely knocked out from the way Nanami worked you up well, so Nanami couldn’t help but smile at your sleeping state. For once, you’re sleeping at a reasonable time.

Tucking himself under the bedsheets, he immediately goes to close any distance you two have. Nanami, who usually got nightmares of the past at least once a week, had not gotten any that entire week. Who slept more comfortably that entire week than anything in the past two decades. He does tie it back to you. With you near, any tense muscles and all contained emotions unleashed and melt away. You had to have some sort of magic to you. He was sure of it.

“Sorry, it took over half an hour,” he whispers, wrapping himself around you. His arm cinches your waist, planting his chest to your back. As close as possible. You sleepily moan from the movement when he hugs you even more. 

 “Missed you all day,” he whispers, knowing it would not reach your ears. He kisses the back of your head, hoping it would indirectly make up for the lost time.

As deeply as he missed you, Nanami feared labeling the emotions he felt. Always the one to be sure of himself and his decisions, he hated contradictions. So if he liked you, he needed to be sure. 100% sure it would be for a lifetime and not simply from the proximity or marriage title.  And as horrible as it sounds, he is not 100% sure yet. His heart flutters at your gaze. His brain melts every time you leave the room in your beautiful outfits. His fingers hesitate to touch you in fear of wandering. But all that could not boil down into a word or an emotion. What is it? Admiration? Care? Loyalty? 

One wrong move, and things could go wrong. As sure as he was, that you will stay, he couldn’t afford to hurt you from his confusion with what he believes this overall feeling is. He’s done it before, and he’ll spend his life in regret if he hurts you worse than that.

So all he can do at the moment, as someone who grew up with the responsibility of his siblings and parents, is protect the stable present, slowly work his way to create something that will last. He’ll place the blocks in the right areas so as not to topple over the correct ratio.

Whatever you need, he’ll get it. Whatever you wish for, he’ll grant. He may not know his feelings or the status of this marriage, but he knows one thing. He wants you to stay and he’ll do whatever it is in his power to make sure you will.

“If you wish too,” he mumbles, hugging you tight. 

A little extra with the side characters, after Geto's house party: 

As Satoru and Suguru watch you two leave, sly grins on their faces, they eye each other.

“Bet they will.” “Bet they won’t.” “... Damn it. You’re right.”

“M’yeah. Do you think everything’s okay though?” Suguru wraps a hand around Satoru’s shoulder, pulling him back into a back hug.

“100%. They’re just in a limbo. It’s not our business though. They’re adults. They’ll figure it out… Hopefully.” the white-haired shrugs.

“You look hot when you’re serious.”

“You know who else was hot?” Satoru grins.

“Me-”

“Her. Oh- Haha! Yeah, her. No offense, if I met her before you… Trust I would go for- Ack!” Satoru says.

Suguru pinches Satoru’s hip, a little bit of jealousy rising in his chest. Jealousy and greed, because maybe he also found you irresistible. You mesmerized him with the way you speak and carry yourself. Maybe too sweet on the tongue. Actually scratch that, not just maybe, he did. And Nanami would be a fool to lose you… 

“You would too.” “I would too.” “But she’s his.” “Yeah… she’s his, alright.”

Nevermind. Kento Nanami, ever-so possessive and sure of himself, would never ruin his chance. He’ll go to hell and back for you. He just needs to quit setting a limit and realize.

—- Thank you so so much for waiting! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. It’s one of the first times I’ve fully committed to smut and posting it so… a little nervous, but I hope it was good! ^^

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t judge your reasons. I’m sure I’m no better,” he reassures.

You licks your lips. “For my family, I guess. My mom really wants to see me get married. She’s quite old and has health problems, so I agreed.”

Nanami noticed you held your guard up, keeping a distance between the two of you. Something you’re not telling him, but he doesn’t press.

“Do you regret it?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Not if you don’t,” you whispered before taking a bite of your pancakes. His gaze lingered on you. Not if he doesn’t? 

“You’re my wife. I won’t regret the wife I chose. Yes, we don’t know each other, but I don’t want you to feel suffocated, so please do tell me anything and everything.” 

You look back at him with sparkling eyes and then you change the topic.

He took a bite of the pancakes and eggs and was surprised. He could hug you for how fluffy and delicious they are. It didn’t even take a second to know it was better than any he made.

“What do you want to do today?” you ask. 

He hums, “I have a few places in mind, where we can go, but where do you want to go?”

“Oh, what did you have in mind?” you ask and he tells you the locations after another big bite of the pancakes. His mind can’t get over how you made the pancakes this fluffy and good.

“We can go there,” you say and his ears perk up.

“Where exactly?” he asks for specifics.

“The, um, restaurant, the Salt one,” you tried to repeat what he’d said early, only to fail.

“Ah, Saltspringlis?” he clarifies, telling you that he’ll take you tonight for dinner.

OldestSon!Nanami who notices you skipping lunch and asks you about what you wanted, only for you to say you’ll eat later, stalling on it. Hours go by and he noticed you were busy unpacking your things. He helped you, in hopes that you’d take a break and go eat, but you just continue unpacking, so he asked.

“Well, I had breakfast with you and I don’t want to be full for dinner,” you say, not paying mind to the utterly confused look on his face. Huh? 

“I also forgot,” you mumble, folding another shirt into the drawer. He felt compelled to scold you, the way he used to scold his siblings for taking way too long to go eat. But he doesn’t.

“You should eat a snack,” he suggests, folding your pants and putting it in the drawer of pants. He leaves the room, bringing back an apple, then somewhat “orders” you to sit down and eat while he unpacks for you.

OldestSon!Nanami who neatly organized your clothes the way he noticed you organizing them. Who casually reaches inside the duffle bag beside the nightstand, only for you to tighten the opening, stops his hand from moving. Your eyes were panicked and with the apple in between your lips. He stops and there are a few seconds of silence between you two.

“Um, I have underwear in this,” you explain.

OldestSon!Nanami removes his hand from the bag, the feeling on lace and silk catching his attention as he does. Your face was red and he isn’t dumb. He knows that these were perhaps lingerie packed for activities, maybe by someone else. But he’s also not crass or rude. He acts like he doesn’t know what's inside, nor does he sexualize it. 

OldestSon!Nanami who takes you to Saltspringlis, a seafood restaurant, but also invites some of his friends and company juniors. Gojo and Geto come with Yuji and Megumi, while Shoko arrives with Nobara and Maki. He was glad to know you got along with them, even if they did most of the talking, you still looked pleased but…

OldestSon!Nanami who wonders why you don’t touch your food, you just pick at it. You pick at the scallops and shrimp risotto. In the hour that passed, everyone had finished their plate except you. And soon it was time to leave. 

He wasn’t angry, no, no, no! He was curious and maybe a little disappointed. 

Your marriage was arranged. He didn’t dislike you, no it was the opposite. He liked you, platonically. But he noticed you barely ate your dinner.

He grew up being told to appreciate food and finish his plate. “Others aren’t as fortunate as we are, Kento,” his mother would say. His parents didn’t force him to finish his food if he really couldn’t. But he grew up learning it’s proper and respectful to finish what you got for yourself or what was served.

His younger siblings were told the same about finishing meals, but less tied to the rule. They weren’t kept on the table until they finished like he and another one of his siblings were. And as Nanami sees from your habits, you were probably given that leniency too.

You bit into the shrimp, eating maybe a quarter of the meal before never touching it again. And soon it was time to leave. He noticed others' questions if you were hungry. “You didn’t even eat much,” Yuji, who was around your age, exclaimed. You simply told everyone you’re full. Nanami told you to get it packed to-go and you nodded, doing just that. 

OldestSon!Nanami who fought with OnlyChild!Gojo to pay the bill for everyone. In the end, Gojo beat him by a millisecond to tap it on the card reader.

OldestSon!Nanami who was a little surprised when your stomach growled in the silent car ride. He looked over to you for a second, suggesting, “Finish the food at the house.” You only nod, not saying much.

OldestSon!Nanami who was just a tiny bit irked when he saw the to-go box still in the fridge the next morning. So, once you told him with an avoidant gaze that you didn’t want it, he ate it himself.

OldestSon!Nanami and you went through the motions of your break, one week passing by fairly quickly. You both ate together for almost every meal. ‘Almost’ because you had a tendency to avoid meals and lean towards snacking. Though, at least you’d have breakfast and dinner. Two days into the break, he helped you settle in, encouraging you to decor the place however you’d want. He didn’t mind. He wanted you to feel like you belonged.

So there you were, day three of seven days of break, at a home goods store, gawking the prices as you tried to find the cheapest ones. Why are they so expensive?! Nanami, too, was looking but he looked rather unfazed. 

You found one of the shelves to be beautiful, so beautiful you wanted it. But that feeling quickly sizzled out once the price of $1,500 revealed itself on the tag. You carried on with a tight smile, not looking back. You looked everywhere, and no matter what, nothing was under $500. Even a nightstand. A nightstand!

OldestSon!Nanami who sees you silent sigh to yourself as you walk back to the same place you started off. He asks you if this store was not to your taste, but you simply shake your head, quietly telling him it’s over your budget. 

Perplexed, he leans down, “I’m well-over capable to pay it.”

OldestSon!Nanami watches you explain that you aren’t going to let him pay for it! If you like it and want it, you’ll buy it. He is just there looking back, absolutely astonished. Though, he hid it well behind his stoic face and clenched jaw. Who told you you’d be paying for these things?

“I respect that you want to pay for it, but you’re not going to. Moreso, I won’t let you. If you like something, I’ll get it. It’s for the house,” he replies, beginning to walk towards someone.

Before you can even attempt to convince him not to, he tells an employee to buy two items, giving the item number, as well. You watch him not hesitate the slightest. Even on the drive home, he doesn’t say much about what he bought, so you assumed he got what he liked. 

OldestSon!Nanami who tells you to come down the next day, because a delivery came in. You look at him in utter disbelief as the same beautiful shelf stood in front of you. He watches as your expression goes from confusion to shock to admiration and then to…

“Wait, I- Did you buy it because of me?” your brows furrowed as your voice got small. You had a sort of guilt in your voice, almost as if you didn’t want him to get it.

So he panics. “No! No… I got it because I really liked it,” he lied, “Why? Did you?”

Your face calms and you sigh in relief, “Yeah… Can I help you build it?”

OldestSon!Nanami and you who spend day 4 of your break building and moving things around the house. He notices you bump into things here and there, so he just… moves them out of the way when you shuffle around. He quietly reorganizes the pantry, so you don’t risk breaking your hip when you climb the countertop.

What? He caught you easily climbing it on your knees, as if you do that often when he’s not looking. It made you avoid his gaze for hours, with an embarrassed laugh, mumbling, “Sorry. I’ll clean it.”

YoungestDaughter!Reader who still notices him reorganizing the pantry because she’s always aware of Nanami. Who enjoys building the shelf with Nanami, her brows furrows in focus and eyes fixed on the screws. She organizes her book, usually by title and genre, but quietly places Nanami’s favorites to his eye level (knowing from his family and friends). 

YoungestDaughter!Reader who places a cup of water on the kitchen counter, knowing Nanami will just drink it. He’s done that before. What? She’s just making sure he’s hydrated. Who softly asks Nanami if he has any photos he wants to put up there.

He does. 

OldestSon!Nanami who opens up his album of high school memories and recent pictures with his juniors. All of them. Who stupidly skips past the wedding pictures, not noticing YoungestDaughter!Reader’s eyes wait in foolish anticipation.  

YoungestDaughter!Reader who is quick to move on from the slight disappointment. After all, this relationship had no feelings, it’s arranged. She smiles at the memories, but it dawns on her that she doesn’t know him… At All. Certainly not anything close to what his juniors even know. So she asks about his high school and college, hoping for any response even if it’s not a deep one.

“It was fun,” Nanami whispered, brushing his thumb over two faces. A girl and a guy. 

Silence. Horrible, awkward silence.

“Uh, what year was that?” you ask from behind him. He doesn’t talk and so you let it go. You hated this feeling, the sticky, horrible feeling of begging for him to respond or talk. 

After all, you grew up knowing to swallow your feelings and just let people be, especially if they didn’t want you. You grew up being the listener. When no one asked or responded, you wouldn’t speak either. You hated this sticky, unbearable feeling or being the only one wanting to talk.

You look through your own set of pictures, ones of your friends and family, some that you already printed to frame. You and Nanami decorated the shelf, but sadly it looked as if two roommates had done it, not a married couple. 

You keep your thoughts to yourself. You knew what to expect coming in. No matter how much his mother told this would be love, the moment you knew Nanami seemed to have… settled, you knew this is just that, a settlement. 

But you stupidly already started to enjoy his presence.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who has countless sketches of Nanami in her sketchbook, all of them in her forbidden, never-open-in-front-of-others sketchbook. All of them are drawn in the month you’ve known him.  Some doodles, others a bit more detailed. 

OldestSon!Nanami, who saw the sketch book lying around, picks it up out of curiosity, but never opens it. He respects your privacy. 

OldestSon!Nanami and you spend day 5 in the park with a beautiful garden. He noticed your eyes sparkle at the flowers, taking yet another picture as you walked around. He sends it to his mom, who replies with a dozen pink, yellow, and orange hearts for you, calling you, “So cute.” You come back to him, with a couple small flowers in your hand, dropping it into his palm without touching him, “I didn’t want to rip them off, but I found some instead.”

OldestSon!Nanami who blushes as you turn your back and continue walking as if you didn’t just give him the cutest small flowers of yellow and blue daisies.

OldestSon!Nanami who brings home salmon the next day and you cook it. He notices you eat only part of it and wait for him to finish before claiming that you're full. He lets it go, not saying anything about it.

The rest of the day you two are within each other's vicinity, but doing different things. You sketching something in your sketchbook and he's reading.

OldestSon!Nanami begins to dose off as he's reading, his book slipping from him a sliver. Despite being high alert with others, he can't help but feel a little at peace with... you.

You place your sketchbook aside, taking the blanket off yourself and putting it on Nanami instead. You take the book from his sleeping state and hesitantly tuck him into the blanket.

Nanami wakes up right when you put the blanket on him and he can't help but feel weird fluttering in his stomach. A few seconds of silent stares that happen between you two. You to him. Him to you.

"Um," you break the silence, "You should sleep... in the bedroom. You'll hurt your neck."

Nanami who hums, knowing that if he spoke, it'll be a stutter of words. He notices how you look so "caught in the act" when you did nothing wrong. He gives you a smile, clearing his throat as he stands up.

"Are you tired?" he asks.

You look back at your materials splayed out on the living room table and couch. Looking back at him, you shrug your shoulders.

"I'm not tired, but I can... keep you company after I clean up."

OldestSon!Nanami who waits 20 minutes, too giddy to sleep because you said you'd keep him company. Usually, you two went to sleep at different times. You were always staying up later than him.

OldestSon!Nanami who whispers goodnight as you settle into the bed, reading a book in your hand and small light on the book. He told you that you can keep the lights or lamp on, but you refused. You use a tiny book light

OldestSon!Nanami and you spend the night of your last day of break together at yet another expensive seafood restaurant. Nanami had asked you where you wanted to go, but you let him decide, telling him you didn’t know the place well.

You’d ordered a salmon dish with a side of asparagus. The price wasn’t the issue. He didn’t mean to get a little… irked. You took twenty minutes to order, but he didn’t mind. And by the time he’d eaten his food, you barely made a dent in yours.

He waited and waited, the conversation between you two was longer than the length you took to eat. The conversation was nothing out of the ordinary, just about both of your jobs and going back to the usual work routine. All that stuff. 

Your food long went cold and you were lingering, not touching it.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, curiously.

“Oh, no nothing. Why?” You ask, tilting your head.

“You’re not eating and your food is cold,” he points out. You look down at your plate and curl up. He should’ve stopped.

“It’s not good to waste food,” he adds, wiping his hands on the cloth.

“Yeah, um, I’m just full,” you quietly say, your neck heating up from his gaze. The same one that you got when you were younger. From many, many people.

You’d grown up similar to Nanami, but instead of being let off the hook your family yelled at you to eat and finish food. Admittedly, you avoided food because you were easily full, you’d prefer to have small portions. It didn’t help that your parents were on the poorer side. They’d guilt you about the money they spent on food.

And as Nanami said those words, you relive those memories.

“You’re all skin and bones! Why are you not eating?!”

“Fish is good for you, why are you being so picky?”

“She never eats. It’s such a hassle. What did I do wrong?.”

“I tried so many times to make her eat fish, she never does.”

“You should be happy. Lots of people can’t even eat fish.”

So, to avoid giving Nanami the wrong impression, despite heavily disliking seafood, you forced yourself to at least finish half, until you just couldn’t anymore. This month alone, you've eat more fish than you have in a lifetime.

The salmon left a bad taste in your mouth and you felt like throwing up. You would’ve had it not been for the asparagus you finished.

“Are you done?” Nanami asks, again. You nod your head with flushed cheeks, squeezing your hands in your lap. Sorry. 

He sighs and finishes paying. He barely says a word to you as you both go to the car. The food swirls in your stomach, the taste of the seafood still in your mouth palette. You didn’t get the chance to wash the gag-worthy taste away with water.

“Thank y-“

“If you didn’t want to eat out, you could’ve told me,” he bluntly said, gripping the steering wheel. He drove without looking at you, just a little bit irked. Okay, not just a little. Irked. He’s annoyed.

Gojo buys you food that you didn’t eat, then you don’t eat this time either. You never seemed to finish it, but then you eat something else much later on, ignoring the food container from the restaurant. Did you want fresh food? He’d get it. He just wanted you to be honest if you didn’t want to eat it anymore now that it’s old. Or that you didn’t want to eat with him and his friends in the first place.

“I’m not trying to force you to do anything. We’re married even though it was arranged, but I’m not here to force you,” he adds, and your stomach sinks further.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble as he drives in silence, paying you no mind. A few minutes go by. Your guilt grew more and you could physically feel his irritation.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to go eat,” you add, playing with your hands. I’m sorry. 

“Then?” He raises a brow, eyes in the road.

Your throat felt hot and your stomach swirls as the car hit a pothole. You didn’t want to admit it. You didn't want to admit that you didn’t like fish. You didn’t like seafood. Few exceptions, but fish was definitely not one. You tried to like it, but nothing ever got you to.

“I felt full,” you mumble and he is quick to click his tongue.

“Then you could’ve ordered something you wouldn’t waste. That simple,” he adds. 

He didn’t know why he got worked up. You weren’t a kid. He normally doesn’t care about habits. But you didn’t even have a full meal since breakfast. Yes, he noticed. How are you NOT hungry?

Growl! You bit your lip as your stomach made noises. Nanami sighed as he, too, heard it. You clearly were if your stomach was still growling.

“You don’t have to lie. I won’t blame you if you feel weird about going out with me. As I said, this marriage was done quickly and we’re not in love. ”

“No, I just… couldn’t finish it. I knew I probably would like it. I wanted to try, but… It didn’t taste good,” you mumble at the end. As Nanami drives, the sight of swift cars and alternating lights makes your stomach flip like hurricane swirls.

“But you got it anyway. You should’ve ordered something you could finish.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out, your hand reaching up to cover your nose and mouth.

“No need to apologize to me. Just… it’s not good to waste food,” he said, voice flat and stern.

You felt shame rise up to your cheek as the food began to rise up your throat. You’d tried to swallow the sickly throat-wrenching feeling, but it was getting more and more unbearable. More and more the food climbed up your stomach and throat.

“Stop- Stop the car,” you quickly express, opening your seatbelt. And he does, pulling over immediately..

You stumble out of the car, and spill your guts out. Every bit of fish and asparagus you ate now spilled out on the ground. Nanami curses, his stomach sinking to the floor as you heave and bend over. He leaves the car to rub your back, his eyes brimmed with worry.

Fish usually made you queasy, especially if it smelled fishy. So you avoided it, but seeing Nanami always eat it so deliciously made you want to match his preference too. He got you water and you profusely apologized. He shakes his head, worried to no end. He checks your temperature and finds nothing. He’s there with you crouched down until your stomach calms, your arms settling beside you.

“What's wrong?”

“I’m sorry… I don’t like seafood.” And it clicks for him. Your face dropped when you looked through the menu, which had nothing but fish and scallops.

Fuck, he thought. He loves seafood, so did his entire family. It seemed like your family also enjoyed it, so he assumed you liked it too. But not once did he ever see you reach for any seafood dishes. Ever. 

He’d grown up eating anything, he wasn’t picky, moreso he wasn’t allowed to be. He didn’t care as long as it wasn’t sardines. You must’ve forced yourself to eat even half of the salmon. He carries you to the car, clicking in your seatbelt for you.

“I’m sorry,” he admits, “I should’ve told you it was seafood. It’s my fault, not yours.”

“Still it was expensive and you paid, so I can pay you back for wasting it,” your voice was so small and quiet. As if you expected him to be mad about it. As if you expect him to yell at you.

His heart aches, and he shakes his head, “No, no. What? That doesn’t matter. The price doesn’t matter. I’m your husband, it’s only a given.”

He help you get back into the car, making sure you were no long queasy. OldestSon!Nanami who has a small stash of medicine in a box of his car. He gives you a bottle of water and some nausea relief. Driving a little slower to avoid making your vision hazy and stomach churn again. Right when heard your stomach rumble, he was quick to stop at a random late night bakery.

“Do you like sweets?” He asks and you nod, only to panic when he starts to leave the car.

“No, you don’t have to! You’re wasting money,”

His brows furrow, “What? Nonsense, you threw up. And you’re hungry”

“I’ll buy it myself. Seriously.”

“No, sit here. What do you like?”

“I’m not telling you,” you insist.

“Then I’ll just get one of every flavor.”

You scoff at his ‘promise,’ “No you won’t.”

“You think?” he smirks, cocking his head to the side.

“You won’t,” you dryly chuckle, crossing your arms. You were too weak from the nausea to get up as he shut the car door, assuming he was joking. Surely, he’d just get a croissant.

He didn’t, in fact, just get a croissant. Keeping his word, Nanami comes back with a box full of pastries. Your eyes widen at the sheer amount in your lap.

“I- I can’t finish this!”

“I’ll help. Anything left over I’ll give it to friends. Please, I don’t want you fainting.”

He noticed you hesitate to grab the fancy one, the tiramisu croissant, so before you go for the plain butter croissant instead, he speaks.

“Go for it. I bought it for you,” he softly encourages. With a sheepish smile you take it, biting into the croissant.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Nanami says, regretting his lecturing.

“You’re not a kid and you’re free to eat however much and whatever you want. I don’t mean to control you. I have no idea what got over me to act like that. I’m sorry.”

You nod your head, “That’s alright. I know you said it from a good place. I, uh, need to get better at letting you know about these things too.” 

That night, nothing big changed, but Nanami was sure of one thing: He never wants to see you sad and uneasy.

He couldn’t help that your tears made his heart ache. Maybe it was similar to the way he can’t see his juniors hurt? He just knew he didn’t want to see you unhappy. Maybe you were becoming a friend? He doesn’t know.

OldestSon!Nanami and you who still sleep with your backs faced away from each other, but closer. The distance would completely disappear if one of you flipped over. 

OldestSon!Nanami checks on you when waking up at the crack of dawn, he touches your forehead. And then realizes….

Realizes he hasn’t even hugged you, let alone held your hand. The farthest you’ve both gone was this… Him touching your forehead. And right then, he wanted to bang his head on the wall.

But maybe it was for the best? What if you don’t like him? What if you want a divorce soon? What if you liked someone else? Why would she like you? Someone so fucking old-

You groan in your sleep, moving around and facing him. His breath gets caught in his throat as the palm of his hand is now pressed between the bed and your cheek. Your hair strand cover part of your face, and fuck you looked so cute. 

An ache sew itself into Nanami's heart. He felt as though he'd ruined your life. Your love life. He wonders if you given no choice. Because why would you agree to marry him? You could've chosen anyone... But you chose him...

OldestSon!Nanami who went to sleep like that, not daring to move his hand from your cheek. So when you wake up, you wake up confused as to why you accidentally practically pinned Nanami to the edge of the bed (it was only his arm under you).

YoungestDaughter!Reader who wakes up a little excited because she gets to make him a lunchbox for the first time. She really wanted him to try one of her recipes that she made herself. She hesitates, thinking of cooking something common, but listening to her heart, she makes him something she came up with.

OldestSon!Nanami who smiles at the lunch you made him for before he headed to work. He gives you a small smile, thanking you. You smile back, shrugging and playing with the hem of your shirt, as if it was too embarrassing for him to notice it. 

OldestSon!Nanami who also drives you to your office place, making sure you went inside the office before driving to his own.

OldestSon!Nanami who got many compliments and congratulations for his marriage. He even got a couple of sad eyes from some singles. He didn’t know why. Were they sad he got married before them? (No, they were sad it wasn’t them who he got married to. Both those employees flirted with him before, but he never took the hint. Gojo and Geto knew, but they never told him.)

OldestSon!Nanami who didn’t touch the lunch you made for him, forgetting about it when Gojo practically dragged him to eat out because, “Suguru is too busy to eat with me.” 

Not only that, he didn’t even get the time to catch his breath because of how busy it got with him back in the office. When he took a shower after work, you noticed the lunchbox was heavy, opening it to only find it full and untouched. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader’s heart fell to the floor seeing the food not even halfway done. She contemplated asking him, but when he came to the kitchen with a laptop in his hand and a stoic face, her questions answered themselves. Maybe he didn’t get the time.

That day you both did not speak much with each other. Both of you had different jobs and after the week long break, there was much to catch up on for both of you

So the very next day, you make him lunch again. A different recipe with salmon and rice. You even tasted it to make sure it was good, even if you’d prefer it with chicken instead. 

Your routine of waking up together and leaving together continued for a second time. You were dropped off first and then he went about his way.

OldestSon!Nanami whose second day back was hectic, more so than the first. He didn't even get a break, let alone the chance to touch his lunchbox.

YoungestDaughter!Reader’s heart, once again, shattered seeing the lunch full. The note she left inside of “Hope today is good! Take deep breaths^^” discarded all the way at the bottom. Crunched up and discarded.

OldestSon!Nanami and you spent the day in different work rooms. You in yours. Him in his. You slept in the same bed. Close, but once again faced away. Backs towards one another. 

OldestSon!Nanami didn’t say anything when he noticed you didn’t make lunch the next day, thinking you were tired, so he made it himself. You saw him do so, as you grabbed a yogurt and canned coffee. In silence, he dropped you off and went about his way to work. This continued for the week, before he asked. He asked right when you returned from work, surprisingly returning later than usual. Much later. Perhaps two hours late.

“Why did you stop making lunch?” He notices you freeze, trying to gather your thoughts. You had just gotten out of the shower, freshly wet hair and in your baggy mix-matched pajamas.

“Not that you must. You don’t. I’m a grown man. I can make it myself. I was just… I was merely curious,” he adds, hoping to put off the pressure of answering.

“Oh,” you begin, playing with the hem of your sleeve, “I thought you didn’t like it. I didn’t want to force you to eat something you didn’t like.”

“Why’d you think that?” he tilts his head, completely lost.

“You told me one time that you went out to eat and brought back a full container, so I assumed you didn’t want to eat it. But, I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry.” 

“No!” he says, stepping closer to you,“I should’ve clarified. Gojo forcefully took me out to eat. I also… completely forgot you packed me something. So it’s my fault, not yours.”

You look up at him, nodding, a hint of sadness in your eyes “So, you don’t mind eating what I make?”

He frowns, shaking his head and leaning down to you, “Why would I? Is anything wrong?”

You shake your head, as if you wanted to avoid talking about it. Before you can leave, he gently pulls your arm, leaning in close. He tilts his head to connect your face with his, a slight worry in his eyes.

“Hey, talk to me,” he whispers, “I don’t want you silently trapping your thoughts.”

You stall a bit more, before sheepishly chuckling. Shrugging as you answer, “No big deal, really. It’s a small thing that I guess I took too far. You don’t need to worry.” 

You attempt to leave, again, but he doesn’t let you. Stopping you in your tracks with his arm out with stern look, the same one he’d give his younger siblings with his brow raised so they spill whatever secret they had. You, being the youngest in your family, also know that look very well.

“Just… I- Whenever I made food for my family when I was younger, it was alway untouched,” you whisper, your eyes looking down at the floor instead of up at him. His heart aches as the words reach his ears.

You dryly laugh, “It is not even that serious, but I guess it still hurt. I remember making them breakfast one time and no one ate it. Yeah, I was a teenager and maybe it didn’t look good, but… I hoped at least one person would have some.” 

You looked so small, curling into yourself as you seem to be overthinking the memory. 

Your words getting quieter and quieter as you spoke, “It also seemed like they didn’t think I could make good food? I don’t know. It’s not even that serious, really. My older sisters were better at making traditional food anyway. Even when I got better, I always worried no one would like it, so I just wouldn’t make it.” 

He swallows the ball in his throat, feeling his heart crumble. That explains the hesitant stare you’d give him as he ate your food. Whenever you make something, you’d add a small ‘It’s probably not good.’

He noticed, but just assumed you were learning to cook, not that you were embarrassed of your skill. Hell, you were better at many dishes than him. He’d have your food over anything his family made.

He lets out a guilty sigh and hesitantly reaches for your hand, “You’re a good cook, so please try not to demean yourself. I understand this hesitance of yours, but I would never, ever leave your food to rot. I’ll eat everything and anything you make.”

OldestSon!Nanami who silent vows to always eat the lunch you pack him. And as always your cooking was nice. YoungestDaughter!Reader who encourages him to at least decide the menu, so she does not make him something he dislikes. Who tell Nanami that he’s never obligated to eat everything, just as much as he wants.

OldestSon!Nanami and you who have yet to go on a honeymoon or big trip because your works have you two so, so busy. 

A month and a half has passed and the only time you really spend is either sleeping in the same bed or drinking a late warm beverage together. Only on weekends do you ever really spend time, time that you two spent on talking and slowly getting to know each other. Though, Nanami noticed you still tend to avoid getting too deep about things. He wasn't much better with talking about his past either, so he understands.

OldestSon!Nanami, who during one of the weekends, takes you to yet another hang out with his friends and juniors. It was a small get-together a Gojo’s. Everyone, except for those driving, was a tad bit (or really) drunk. Nanami avoided drinking and you did not drink either. You were allergic.

OldestSon!Nanami who kept you in eye distance even when he knew everyone. Who felt so fucking jealous when Gojo and Geto leaned into your space to hear you over the music and loud juniors. Who pretended to “fix” your sleeve, his hand grazing the wedding ring to clean it. Nanami, who makes quick glaring eye contact with Gojo and Geto, before stepping away from you.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who isn’t dumb about what just happened. She can assume what just occurred, but she still has her big doubts. The little touch of her ring, in front of two other good-looking men (who are Nanami’s friends), left her a little speechless, but she brushes it off. Because what if it was just that simple a brush of her rings and no thought to it? 

OldestSon!Nanami who would get you everything and anything you need, even when you always refused to want anything. Never asking. Never relying. Always being okay with anything. Who notices that you always getting something on the cheaper side.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who grew to be on her own and not rely on others. Who has a hard time letting others do anything for her. Who feels overwhelmed every time Nanami takes her out because she really cannot get used to him paying for things. Her solution? Anything cheap. 

OldestSon!Nanami and YoungestDaughter!Reader who try to unknowingly dance around the other, trying to adjust to what the other feels comfortable with. OldestSon!Nanami and YoungestDaughter!Reader who have been sleeping facing each other for a month and a half. You take a glimpse of him before closing your eyes.. And Nanami taking one last look at your peaceful, sleeping face before succumbing to sleep.

----

Credits for the characters to Gege Akutami, but this plot and these versions of the character are of my own (maybe OOC sometimes), so please refrain from plagiarizing.

I am currently NOT posting this elsewhere, so if there are works of thse anywhere else, let me know!