His Priye ||Gojo Satoru x OC||

Chapter 21

3rd pov:

"I am time. And must I say, observing Stuti and Satoru over this month has been nothing short of a rollercoaster. Their days, as usual, have been eventful from the very beginning. How can we expect peace when these two pranksters are involved? However, today seemed a bit different, so I decided to take a trip to the Gojo household."

Satoru Gojo turned sideways, facing the love of his life in the gentle morning light. The curtains in their bedroom cast a soft, golden glow, enhancing the beauty of his wife, Stuti Yadav, lying beside him. The warmth of the early sunlight painted her skin, hair, and the curve of her arm draped over him in a captivating, ethereal hue.

With Stuti's tummy exposed, and her arm instinctively tangled with his, Satoru couldn't help but be captivated by her features. The morning light delicately traced the contours of her face, highlighting the adorable moles, the plump sweetness of her lips, and the soft, cherubic cheeks that begged for gentle kisses.

Resisting the temptation to stare, Satoru scooted closer to her, wrapping his arms around her exposed midriff and nuzzling into the comforting crook of her neck. Mornings like these were designed for his beautiful wife to luxuriate in the realm of dreams.

The day unfolded at a leisurely pace — no pressing work commitments, no urgent missions. It was Satoru's preferred kind of day, and he was certain it would be Stuti's too, especially once she awoke to the inviting aroma of the special makhan she kept refrigerated — a personal indulgence she cherished.

Deciding to rise, Satoru moved to the living room, engrossed in his phone. The rhythmic sound of Stuti's footsteps was masked, and he found himself pleasantly surprised as her arms enveloped his waist, her face finding its natural place in the curve of his neck.

"Good sleep?" Satoru mumbled, his voice carrying a playful tone, knowing she could hear him.

She responded with a contented hum, her lips teasing the edges of his ear as she playfully pouted, "Not anymore when you left. Now I had to wake up. You're so mean! You didn't even wake me up!"

This woman, a delightful contradiction of a giant baby with puffed cheeks and long, graceful limbs, had a way of making every morning special.

Despite her playful complaints, he knew she was telling the truth. A warm, affectionate feeling washed over him as he led her towards the fridge, Stuti clinging to him like a baby monkey to its mother's back.

Chuckling, Satoru retrieved the makhan she stored there, playfully tasting it on his finger before offering it to her lips. The first thing Stuti always savored before breakfast was makhan, claiming it recharged her body. Every time she woke, she eagerly anticipated this intimate moment — waiting right behind Satoru to be fed over his shoulder.

Her verdict was consistent: everything he touched seemed to become even sweeter.

Satoru chuckled again as she licked the makhan from his finger, her eyes lighting up with the sweet taste. Now fully awake, Stuti rewarded him with a gentle kiss on the cheek and a radiant smile, "Good morning, Priye."

Satoru returned the smile, leaning down to kiss her forehead tenderly, "Good morning, my love."

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Stuti found herself seated at the enormous kitchen table. On the plate in front of her lay an unappealing dish, a product of her husband's  valiant attempt at cooking.