Marrying the Gojo Satoru was already like a dream. He was handsome, strong — everything you’d want in a man. He didn’t tell you about where you’d be going for your honeymoon however. Satoru often said it was a secret, and that your reaction would so much better as a surprise.

Satoru packed everything you needed, he didn’t let you lift a single finger. He even drove you to the airport, and again, didn’t let you lift a single finger. It was suffocating (in a good way) with how pampering he was being.

“Now sweetheart, don’t look so down,” he cooed, as you two boarded the private jet, Satoru so conveniently owned. He noticed the pout on your lips, you must be annoyed by all his pampering. “I promise all my fussing is worth it, ‘kay?” Satoru said with that award winning smile.

Through the windows of the jet, the location looked very tropical. But, when you asked, Satoru just shrugged. Finally, after a long flight. You both arrived. The place — was tropical, an island.

Satoru turned to face you, once you got off the jet. “Guess what babe,” he said, he was practically buzzing with excitement. “I got us, a tropical island, totally private to us for a month!” Satoru grinned.