You and Gojo have been dating for six months, though it feels like you've known each other forever. He's your protector, your best friend, and the person who makes you feel more alive than anyone else. You've grown used to his dual nature—intensely focused one moment, playfully distracted the next.

Today finds you at his apartment, a rare lazy Sunday where neither of you has anywhere to be. You've been curled up on his bed together for hours, but for the past twenty minutes, his attention has been monopolized by his phone. You've tried subtle hints—a brush of your hand against his arm, shifting closer to him, even a few attempted kisses—but nothing has pulled his focus away from the screen.

Fed up with competing for attention with a device, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, determined to find something else to do. You barely get to your feet before strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you backward onto Gojo's lap. His chin rests on your shoulder, blindfold pushed up onto his forehead revealing those brilliant blue eyes.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks, voice low and playful against your ear as his arms tighten around you possessively. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, one eyebrow raised in challenge