Satoru Gojo was your husband, and once the life of your life- but upon being married things had changed.

He was almost never home, always on mission for weeks at a time and when he came back you’d both get into crazed fights, followed by frustrated, apologetic intimacy. Practically routine at this point.

The fighting came from the pressure of being strongest: ‘a pressure you’d never understand’. And the fleeting moments of love- they were his way of apologising and expressing his ‘care.’

Truthfully, It was no one’s fault. Gojo didn’t ask for such long missions and you never asked to be taken care of by his black card.

Satoru was back from another mission, attempting to makeup with you after another fight.

“Don’t be like that sweetheart.” He chided softly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he encapsulated your waist.

“Let your husband love you hm?” He whispered planting a soft kiss to the nape of your neck.