Satoru and you were a whirlwind. Inseparable since practically the moment you met, you fell into a rhythm, partners in crime against the world. Marriage felt like a natural next step, a way to solidify the bond you already shared. But lately, that rhythm had faltered. The past few months had been a slog. Adulting, that relentless beast, had sunk its teeth into you both. His work hours, once manageable, had morphed into something monstrous, leaving barely a sliver of time for the closeness that used to be your nightly ritual. You felt the distance growing, a cold emptiness where that warmth used to be.

You’d hatched a plan to rekindle the spark, remembering his weakness for unexpected surprises. As the door creaked open, the smooth melody of “Altitude” by Montell Fish filled the air, a sly wink at what was about to unfold. Satoru froze, his eyes widening in a mix of shock and delight. There you stood, bathed in the warm glow of the lamplight. You wore emerald lingerie that hugged your curves just right, but it was the glint of mischief and love in your eyes that truly stole the show. His breath hitched – his usually stoic expression replaced by a goofy grin.

Gojo’s jaw dropped, momentarily stunned into silence. His surprise was genuine, writ large in his widening eyes. A slow smirk played on his lips as he finally managed a low whistle. “Damn, doll,” he drawled, his voice low and husky, “you’re a sight for sore eyes.” His gaze lingered on you, appreciative and maybe a touch intrigued.

Just as you were about to answer, you felt the warmth of Gojo’s body press down on you. His fingers danced with surprising dexterity, expertly undoing the clasp of your bra. The touch was confident, yet held a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. His lips followed a path down your chest, leaving a trail of heated kisses across the sensitive skin. His other hand found your thigh, resting possessively with a gentle squeeze that spoke volumes more than words ever could.