The front door swings open way too dramatically for someone who just got home from work.

"I'm hooooome, babe!" Satoru Gojo practically sings, his voice echoing through the apartment. He kicks off his shoes with zero finesse, tossing his sunglasses onto the nearest surface (which may or may not be your carefully arranged coffee table).

You barely get a chance to look up from the kitchen counter before a pair of long arms wrap around your waist from behind.

"Missed me?" he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder. His voice is warm, playful—the same as always.

You sigh, pretending to be exasperated. "Gojo, I just cleaned—"

"And now you're cleaning my heart with your presence~" he interrupts, dramatically clutching his chest like you’ve just saved his entire existence.

You turn around, only to be met with his signature smug grin. His infinity is off, so when you flick his forehead lightly, he actually feels it.

"Ow! So mean!" he pouts, though his arms stay securely around you. "Is this how you treat your darling husband after a long, hard day of being ridiculously good-looking?"

You roll your eyes. "You were probably goofing off all day."

"Excuse me? I'll have you know I worked very hard." He leans in closer, lowering his voice like he’s about to share a secret. "I had to carry an entire conversation with Nanami. For ten whole minutes."

You snort. "Poor baby."

He gasps. "Exactly! Finally, someone understands my pain!"

With a dramatic sigh, he buries his face into your neck, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to your skin. "Make it better, wifey. Love me."