Hi! I Saw That Your Requests Are Open So Can I Ask For A Childhood Friends To Lovers With Yuuta Okkotsu

Hi! I saw that your requests are open so can I ask for a childhood friends to lovers with yuuta okkotsu (sfw please!)

Just some fluffs of them (like, showering him in attention) or maybe some pda (cause this boy deserves the world and I want to show off how much I love him) can the settings be them in 2nd years? Bc i would love to have the 1st year trio in there. Thank you !!! <33

Requests: Open (Please tell me if you want a HC or a Fic, or you will be skipped)

Warnings: None

Contains spoilers for JJK Manga 0 and Shibuya Arc (one line)

Yuuta Childhood Friends to Lovers

- In your early years the two of you had simply gone to the same elementary school and just so happened to have lived just a few houses down from each other.

- It wasn't odd for him to wake up on weekends to you screaming outside his home, calling out that he should join you to go play in the park or to come play out in the snow.

- He'd try and ignore you for a few minutes, that is, until his little sister would come running down the hallway and slam his door open demanding he go outside to shut you up.

- You were also there when he met Rika. You teased him constantly about his and her crushes towards each other and even demanded you play a part in their future wedding which never ended up happening.

- When Rika was gone, you were there for him as he mourned, at least, you were there until he just stopped coming out of his house.

- Ti The two of you ended up going to separate middle schools and your cries on the weekend for him to join you outside steadily died. Out of curiosity after a night of not being able to sleep, he peered outside his window, spotting you walking by his house.

- You simply stared up at the home you used to frequently visit before adjusting your bag over your shoulders and heading off to complete whatever tasks you had planned to do that day.

- He didn't see you again till his first year at Jujutsu Tech. You'd already moved into your dorm but you had been bringing in your last bit of stuff when you bumped into him.

- Gojo just watched as the two of you awkwardly stared at each other for a few minutes before you darted away, an apology dripping from your lips.

- Things are honestly awkward between the two of you the first few weeks, to which his classmates blatantly point out.

- It isn't till the incident with Getou, and Rika the two of you really start to connect again.

- Conversations in classrooms from earlier that day were quickly picked up in your room after he had slipped in after-hours. Sure the two of you could have waited and kept talking the next day, but the vibe in your room of being in there after hours, his head on your thighs as you play with his hair while you two talk just hits different.

- Instead of simply leaning over to whisper in your ear either you grab his hand and gently pull him towards your lips to whisper or his arm ends up snaked around your shoulders to bring you close, his lips tickling your ear as he fills it with an inside joke or a secret.

- As amusing as it is for your classmates to watch the two of you dance around your feelings for each other, they lowkey get annoyed at some point.

- They convince Gojo to set up a fake mission, lying that he needs to meet you two at a cafe to discuss the details for some reason. Instead, it just ends up with you two being there by yourselves, basically ignoring the fact that your teacher never showed up as the two of you talk.

- Instead of returning back to school the two of you indulge in the day, going to see a movie together and grabbing a bite to eat.

- As the two of you go your separate ways when you arrive back at school, within the hour Yuuta is in your room, snuggled up to your side as you pepper kisses along his face. A silent agreement that after that day the two of you officially crossed the friends line, and into new territory.

- Your friends thought that once the two of you got together everything would be okay. No, the two of you worsen.

- Originally thought that the two of you would be the type that would take forever just to hold hands or kiss. No, you two are the type to always be on each other.

- You're always holding hands. Your friends wanted to try an experiment to see if someone came to walk between the two of you if you'd separate. Panda was the one who volunteered.

- You two were simply walking down one of the schools many paths, enjoying the fall weather when you came across Panda. The three of you stopped, giving each other a greeting before silence fell between you.

- He kinda makes a motion that he wants to get by, and expects the two of you to separate. However, Yuuta simply leads you off to the side, you leaning into his side lovingly at the two of you watch Panda walk away.

- Your friends cringe but aren't surprised.

- If anyone needs Yuuta for anything they know not to check his room, because he's always in yours.

- He has definitely opened your room door wearing a facemask and lil bear ear headband to keep his hair out of his face while the mask dries. Gojo just stares at him for a moment before taking multiple pictures.

- When he has to prepare to leave for Africa he gets the two of you those types of bracelets that can connect with each other when you hold hands.

- When he leaves for Africa you're not as heartbroken as you thought you'd be. Both send texts throughout your days and try to facetime at least once a week.

- When the new first years come along Nobara literally glares whenever it's girls' night and your phone goes off. Maki has gotten used to your blushing face and love a sick smile as you respond to your boyfriend.

- Nobara gets curious as to what your boyfriend looks like, and when you show her a picture of Yuuta she just comments that he's cute. However, when she's alone with Maki afterward, looks at her senior and states he looks like the walking dead.

- Itadori is honestly excited to meet him

- Shibuya happens and that excitement turns to fear after he meets him

- When the two of you are reunited you can't help but run your fingers through his longer hair when you kiss. Everyone is cringing.

- You're both holding hands all the time so your bracelets are connected constantly.

- Both of you are each others wallpaper on your phones. Your's is a picture of Yuuta getting yeeted by Panda in midair during training, meanwhile, his a picture of you sleeping with a facemask on, drool slipping from the side of your mouth.

- Literally a contest between the two of you of who can get the most cringy pics of their S/O.

CAN I REQUEST Y/N IGNORING GOJO LMAOOO. OKAY BUT FR- y/n's SOO MAD AT HIM FOR THE LITTLEST THINGS (ex; he didnt put the toilet seat down, he leaves water DRIPPING EVERYWHERE in the bathroom, his candy/lollipop wrappers are atp forming a whole mf mountain 😭😭💀💀)

morning spills┆gojo satoru

୧ genre: fluff and tiny angst

୧ wc: 1,025

୧ synopsis: gojo receives the silent treatment because you decided that you've had enough of picking up after him.

a/n: wrappers as ATP forming a mountain STOP that's so funny but completely true!! thanks for the request anon, I had so much fun writing this one!

"Honey, are you mad at me? Why aren't you talking to me? Didn't you hear me call out to you? Have I done something wrong? Talk to me angel, I miss the sound of your voice. I'll die if I don't hear it.

C'mon, please? Please, please, please. I'll really die, I'm not kidding."

Your persistence is really getting to Gojo ever since the morning, and you had good reason to be upset at him too. From him leaving a pile of dirty socks along with yesterday's attire right next to the hamper instead of having the right mind to deposit the clothes inside it to leaving water droplet stains on the bathroom mirror from washing his face too carelessly. If that wasn't enough for your cross-popping vein to make an appearance, the evidence from his late-night snacking spread on the kitchen island definitely was.

You're at your ends meet because your husband just doesn't seem to understand the concept of picking and cleaning up after himself, no matter how many times you've addressed the issue it just wasn't something he took to heart. With Gojo, it's always "Sorry babe, I'll make sure it doesn't happen again next time," and when next time comes around it happens again and again and again. You gave him too many second chances and warning notices, and today is the day where you've finally had enough of it.

Gojo hadn't realized just how badly he screwed up until his good morning kisses privileges have been rescinded, and that's when he starts to panic 一 inwardly and outwardly. "Baby? I don't get a good morning kiss?" He tries to lighten the mood with an innocent chuckle and pretend that everything's peachy, but you can make out the sound of hurt in his voice. You brush him off and continue making yourself a cup of tea before making your way to the makeshift desk with your laptop to answer work-related emails.

Gojo is completely stunned and he doesn't know how to act. He knows you're mad at him about something that he did, and before he could put his finger on it the brimming sunlight shines on the opened jar he left out overnight and it catches his peripherals. It immediately dawns on him why you're suddenly giving him the silent treatment. "Oh, haha this? Megumi must've gotten hungry in the middle of the night, don't worry I'll clean it up right away."

Right, because Megumi moved out to the dorms and just so happened to drop by in the middle of the night. You pay no mind to him as you fixate on the lines of text on your screen and sip on your warm beverage every so often.

Much to your surprise, Gojo does as he says instead of leaving the condiments and sweet bread for later like he usually does. But he doesn't stop just there and decides to wipe down the countertops, unload the dishwasher and puts them away, run the next batch of laundry and fold the clean ones. He spends the entire morning being productive and doing simple chores to hopefully make up for him slacking around your shared home. Even making sure you have something to snack on before he needs to get dressed for the day.

"Here, hon. Have some water and fruits." You take a glimpse of the plate he set down and they were bunny-shaped apple slices. How can you remain upset with him after that?

Gojo gives himself a once-over of his teacher's uniform in the mirror before he makes his way to the genkan. He spends a long moment staring at you expectantly as you're typing away at your keyboard, but nothing comes of it and he goes to put on his shoes. When he looks over his shoulder again before he has to head out into the world, you're slowly approaching him from behind and his heart skips. No, it does somersaults because you're acknowledging his existence again and it's all he could ever hope and ask for when it comes to you.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" You offer him a demure smile for the first time today and he swears he was hit by something. He's absolutely love-struck by you and it takes him back to his first encounter with you and he's feeling giddy all over again. But Gojo loves playing coy even though he knows what's coming. There's just something about making you do or state the obvious that's simply rewarding to him.

"Hmm? What's that?"

It's a small routine you both like to do every time one of you leaves the house to head somewhere. A small gesture to let one another know that you both still love each other even if it's the last thing you'll remember. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you gently pull him down into a soft and sincere kiss. The sweet and tart taste of your lips traverses him and he pulls you closer to him than humanly possible.

"Hey, I'm sorry for taking you for granted. Won't happen again... Are we good now?" He gazes down at you with an honest and hopeful expression, and you don't need to see behind his blindfold to know his cerulean hues are rippling and lustering from simply holding you. His grip and gentle squeeze on your hip signals you how sorry he is for being such a messy and inconsiderate person since you both do share the same space, and he makes the silent agreement that he'll be better from now onwards.

You nod at him slightly with upturned lips. Although you felt a little bad about how the morning started, you somehow had to get your message across to Gojo and his response to it seems like it was well-received. "Yeah, we're okay now. I shouldn't have ignored you like that either, but we each have our own faults. Make sure you don't get yourself into too much trouble out there, okay? I love you, Satoru."

"It's a promise," he hums earnestly, reaching for your hand and his pinky loops with your much smaller one. "Love you too, angel."

gojou x f!reader

summary - gojou does manage to escape from his current manga situation(not mentioned in detail) but takes severe injury to his spine and holes up in one of his empty mansions. you pull him out of his depression nest, literally and metaphorically.

warnings - SMUT(minors dni) margarita mix, daddy kink, reader’s in her twenties, gojou’s in his early thirties, so if that kind of age gap bugs you there’s that, lots of chronic pain talk, lots of healing, honestly, very soft for me. mention of an old fashioned arranged marriage. manga spoilers.

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door, shifting your weight on the stoop in front of his house. No ones seen him for weeks, and judging by the mail you found piling up in the little green mailbox at the end of the driveway he hasn’t been going out much. You knock, and hear how easily the sound is swallowed in the monster of a house, the mansion at the top of the hill was hulking and dark in the otherwise bright landscape. No answer. 

“Hello!” You call, “Hello um, they sent me to um, to help you!” No answer. You wait a few more minutes, but an early fall breeze rears its head in late summer, and you try the knob as you shiver. To your surprise, the door creaks open. You step inside, the house is filthy. Cobwebs on the corners of the high ceilings, dust has gathered on every wooden surface, and the gloom extends the further you move through the hallway. It must have been beautiful once, ornate, even, but something about it doesn’t feel like a home, there’s something empty here that even the large heavy furniture doesn’t fill. “Hello,”  you call again, “Hello, ah, Gojou-sama!” You hear slight movement upstairs and resolve to follow it. You keep your guard up, checking over your shoulder as you move up the huge entrance staircase, and then down the first hallway on the right towards the sound you heard. You come to a pair of double doors with intricate carvings, and realize this must be the master bedroom. “Gojou-sama?” You hear a soft groan, and push the door open. 

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You being the dendro archon who was in love with Zhongli but since Zhongli at the time didn't understand human emotions, didn't reciprocate. You ended up developing and dying due to hanahaki disease because of your unrequited love. Zhongli only realizes he longs for your presence, when you were no longer there.

Ehe have fun <3

出水芙蓉, as a lotus flower breaking the surface

pairing zhongli x gn!dendro archon!reader

genre angst... without comfort

warnings war, blood, death, injury, zhongli's name

a/n special piece for mika ily for this

a lotus bloom.

nelumbo nucifera. it is known to symbolise purity, enlightenment, self-regeneration and rebirth. even when its roots are in the dirtiest of waters, it still manages to produce the most beautiful of blooms.

some legends say it is a plant whose fruit induced a dreamy forgetfulness and an unwillingness to leave.

~

at your will, the snow melts and the blooms rise. pearly precious buds that are yet to develop and grow into the character that fate ordains them to be. they could easily be nipped, yet you protect them with all that you have. warm fingers tickle the horizon, and a palette of rosy hues spills across the the line where the lands of teyvat meet the enigmatic void above. zhongli approaches each one, observing their anatomy with a childlike curiosity. his blameless fingertips gently tip each plantlet towards his gaze. they are pure, not tainted by the cruel realities of this world. yet in the way that you both sigh and linger a little too long in the sunrise, you are both well aware that the crimson blood of demons and angels alike may soon tarnish their innocence.

~

pastel pink, like the sudden blush on the cheeks of a young couple in love. a soft, timid shade. one that brings butterflies to the stomach and lets them escape out the lips in the form of lighthearted teasing and giggles that float through the air like a melody. stolen, fleeting glances from across the room, glittering irises and widening pupils that absorb all of who you are. zhongli's gaze drips with the sweetness of saccharine honey, all golden in the sunlight. it is comforting, and you feel as if it coats every surface and seeps into every crack of your fluttering heart. but zhongli says fleeting emotions such as love are limited to the hearts of the human race. we are not human, he says. we are deities, gods of the heavens. you do not open your mouth to reject, but you can hear the distant protests of your heart, echoing in the emptiest depths of your mind.

vibrant magenta. glaring noon light and the sound of crickets in the middle of the night. petals begin to burst forth, unfolding and unravelling a secret you cease to hide. your eyes lock from afar. his strength extends beyond the endless expanse of plains and mountains and waters that stretch between you. he turns to you, and you willingly ignore the fact that his spears and boulders have formed a forest of geological remains. you do not know what souls are pinned below the earth he once summoned, and you do not wish to find out. in the rare ceases of fighting and bloodshed, zhongli says the earth allows a pool to form from the tears of the sky; but the muddy waters do not stop you from letting the lotuses thrive to their fullest potential. they are as beautiful as ever, you breathe. they are, and he nods slowly, his smooth voice ringing in your ears. he takes your stained hands in his own and speaks lowly. these hands have suffocated the lungs of many in vines of restraint, promising release but growing ever tighter; yet you see how they still wield the capability to nurture a species of such purity? it truly is remarkable. the corners of his lips turn up into a slight, rare smile, and even the scrutiny of celestia seems to fall away.

indigo, then violet when the celestial lights dim. in the shadows where the heavens' gaze does not fall, ignorance is bliss, it seems. it puzzles you, because neither of you are ignorant, nor innocent. your hands have wielded weapons of war and the cold, shrivelled hands of your dying friends alike, prayers to celestia falling on deaf ears. he is, arguably in a much more augmented way than you, painfully aware of the realities this world has been facing, the memories the spirits of the land crying out in desperation for his assistance. yet between the two of you, bliss seems to only come to zhongli, who does not share the rush of euphoria you experience each time his hands connect with your own in a steady, secure hold; nor does his heartbeat begin to race when you barrel into his chest. zhongli has always been one to see even that which does not fall below his gaze. but you make sure one thing is certain- he does not hear the rumble of pistils in your lungs when the moon begins to rise, nor does he see the vermillion petals that litter the earth below the haven of your people. you have always been one to protect, to foster, to nourish. now your very own blessings have twisted themselves into a vine of thorns and roses, and you cannot help but feed the needs of the savage, reckless blooms. for the memory will die with the wilting of the flower, and you hope that even when all else erodes into the flow of time, the vulnerable work of your hands may prove to be a symbol of uncovered secrets of the past.

crimson, the life that flows like rivers of human blood in human veins. the iron encapsulated in the warning shades of red are created in none other than the remains of dying stars. fascinating, isn't it? you turn your head to zhongli. he seems enamored with the glittering specks of light above. a single meteor streaks into vision, its tail slowly burning; like the passion crackling away in your heart that eventually will degrade the very existence of your body and soul. for the god of wisdom, you are being awfully unwise, he states matter-of-factly. rigid as always, your inner voice mumbles to itself, and your suppressed frustration seems to bubble up until all you can see is the colour of blood; the blood of all you've let fall at your hands. your throat begins to scream as zhongli's palm makes contact with the bumps and curves of your spine. florets erupt from the very organs that sustain your life, and to your surprise they do not seem to sprout before they bloom. scarlet, ruby, carmine, crimson. red. why is everything red, morax? you sputter out words in between strained breaths, and from the way his eyes pierce into yours, you know he is aware. he knows. that is all that matters, correct? is this not the moment you yearned to witness? the memory of your foolish emotions will live on, etched in the rock-hard tablet that is the heart of the man you love. the vines squeeze, and for once, you do not resist fate, the haze of a dream overcoming your senses. pouring rain, newborn lotuses, and a sunrise. why didn't you give up? a foreign voice resounds in your mind, and here i was, thinking i was the stubborn one out of us two. but your earthly body is already vacant; and a pitiful, longing smile graces your features as you wrap yourself around zhongli, his body hunched over your own, crying out in vain for you to stay. these bodies, you whisper, are none other than containers, vehicles that hold our eternal souls.

black. the absence of all light, devoid of life.

white. the presence of all light, the pinnacle of purity.

~

zhongli's fingers dip below the surface of the water. a drumming drizzle has ceased, and as the last of the sun's rays slip below the horizon, he lifts the bud out of the water. a white lotus, cradled in his tainted hands like an impeccable specimen of porcelain. it has the potential to become any colour it wishes to be. a pastel pink, a vibrant magenta, indigo, violet, crimson. yet it remains pure, it remains innocent. or perhaps the perception of this flower is flawed, zhongli thinks. you knew far too much about this world to let a flower of such endurance represent a nescient innocence. perhaps this white bud was meant to encapsulate the paradoxical essence of everything and nothing at the same time. the promise of a soul that requires it to slowly destroy itself in the process. is this what you had wished to speak? as twilight seeps across the endless sky, zhongli stoops to his knees and raises his gaze to the sky. but he is not searching for the guidance of celestia, nor is he searching for their authoritarian gaze. he searches for you, and you only. the stars will be able to provide answers, won't they?

you smile softly, watching as the bud in his palms begins to bloom.

taglist (open): @chichikoi, @noirkkat, @azumira-404, @starglitterz, @urujiako, @abyssheart, @sincerely-mai, @zierx, @dragon-void, @mikachuchu, @eternism, @shxnosuke, @stupidbirdcentral, @icecappa, @ayra2452008, @luceyluce, @masterofbrioches, @upsetpotatoo, @ariesreii

just wondering if you’d think yuuta would be jealous of the first years getting too comfy with s/o like maybe one time s/o called out “yuu” both yuuji & yuuta respond & they’re like 👁👄👁

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 | 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐓𝐀.

you’re sweet, it’s yuuta’s favorite thing about you—a little too sweet at times, but it’s lovable all the same. and yuuta has grown some, he’s not as much of the timid young boy as he used to be. fighting curses and seeing the things he has and training as vigorously as he does is enough to toughen anyone up, and he’s no exception. but still, he’s always remained your kind, sweet, sensitive little yuuta deep down.

and then there’s yuji. yuji is too perfect for his own good. he’s too easy to befriend, too easy to trust, too easy to grow fond of, and too easy to love.

he’s kind, sweet, sensitive, and magnetic. now that’s a deadly combination if he’s ever seen one, and if the way your eyes brighten when you see yuji is anything to base it off of, yuuta would say you think so too.

“yuu,” you call out, a small grin on your face as you approach yuuta and the pink-haired boy beside him, and when both of their heads snap to your direction, yuuta can’t help but feel his stomach churn. “oh,” you pause, blinking for a moment before giggling, “i meant him,” you point to yuuta.

he’s a tad bit relieved that it’s him you’re looking for, or he thinks the churning in his stomach would be infinitely worse. but then yuji smiles bashfully, looks down and lets out a nervous chuckle as he blushes, and then yuuta’s fists clench just a little.

yuji seems rather fond of you, fond enough that it makes yuuta’s heart plummet—and truth be told, it also makes his blood boil just a little.

“oops,” his younger classmate huffs out a soft laugh, “guess i got ahead of myself there,” he murmurs.

“aww, yuji,” you tease, and much to yuuta’s horror, you’re reaching over to pinch itadori’s cheek, and he’s left to wonder—when had you gotten so comfortable that causal touches were a part of the norm? “if you want a nickname you can just say so.”

“that’s not what i meant,” itadori mumbles shyly. “i just…you know…yuji? yuu? i thought it was for me for a second there.”

“it was for yuuta. for me,” yuuta cuts in, and he has to dig his nails into his palm as he clenches his fists, watching you smile gently to itadori. it’s okay, your expression reads, almost like you’re reassuring the boy—but it’s not okay.

your yuu is him—yuuta. not yuji. you’re here for him, to see him, to smile at him and grab his hand and tug him along as he follows. but you’re staring at itadori fondly, and it’s starting to hurt just a little.

“well we can’t both be yuu,” itadori laughs good-naturedly, and if he wasn’t such a gentle soul, yuuta wonders if he’d hate the boy. but there’s no hating itadori yuji—he’s much too good deep in his soul to be hated. “i’ll leave you two alone then,” he hums, patting your head with a happy smile before he’s off.

the touch isn’t even to him, but yuuta feels his skin burn, prickling at every inch as his heart drops.

you turn to him, beaming as your arms nestle their way around his neck, and even if not enough, there’s still some comfort in the action.

“hi baby,” you murmur, pressing a soft peck to his jaw, “i was looking for you.”

and this is silly—this is small, and not that big of a deal, and not even your fault, but yuuta can’t help the doubts that slowly plague his mind. he can’t fight the voices that hunch over his back and whisper into his ear, drowning out the sound of your voice before you can make it all better.

“me?” he asks, and there’s an edge to his voice that almost says he doesn’t believe you. your brows furrow just a little, your hand sliding to cup his cheek and tilt his face to look at you better.

“yes you, silly,” you huff out a small laugh, “who else?”

yuuta wants to mutter that evidently, it could seem like a certain someone, but he doesn’t have the heart to ever be grouchy with you. so he swallows his insecurities, tries to bury them in the deepest of crevices in his mind so they won’t be dug up again—but it’s like he’s digging into concrete, and the ground is too tough, just won’t break to let him shove his feelings down.

“no one,” he mumbles, not meeting your eyes.

and if you decided one day that itadori yuji was the boy of your dreams, that he was the one who could paint your skies and hang the stars just how you’d like them, yuuta doesn’t think he’d be surprised. if itadori is a swirl of vivid shades, colors that could brighten your world and bring you to life—yuuta thinks he pales in comparison, dim hues muddled together that could never show you the world through scenery as breathtaking.

but then your thumb trails over his cheek, tracing the soft curve of his face before hooking under his chin and pulling his face a little closer. he settles for looking at your lips, not yet ready to meet your gaze.

“what’s wrong, baby? what’s got you so down, hmm?” your voice is concerned, a soft breath that rolls off your tongue and soothes over the aches, placating them so easily—but he’s left to wonder: how long?

how long can you keep up the facade that he’s enough for you to happily crave more and more of? how long can you keep looking him in the eyes and getting lost in their depths? how long before enough is simply not enough any longer?

he doesn’t voice his concerns. “nothing,” he shrugs instead. “what are you—”

“don’t say nothing,” you sigh quietly, and by now, your hand has wandered past his shoulder to bury into his hair, scratching at his scalp gently as you twirl the strands of dark locks around your fingers. “it can’t be nothing, you know. no one knows you better than me,” you say with a sense of pride in your voice.

there’s a small bit of hope in that—a small part of him that revels in the victory of knowing you’re prideful that you see past him and catch glimpses no one else can. so he lets himself be vulnerable with you—because even with his doubts, he’s still you’re kind, sweet, sensitive little yuuta.

“just…didn’t know you and itadori knew each other so well,” he finally mumbles. it’s silent for a moment, and yuuta starts to accept that maybe you’re going to say what he knows is inevitably coming after all.

anyone would love to know itadori yuji like that—why should you be an exception?

yuuta wishes it was before he fell so hopelessly for you, wishes it was before the sound of your laugh was a melody he knew by heart—it’d hurt less, it wouldn’t make his lip wobble the way it’s wobbling right now.

“oh, baby,” you chuckle, cupping his face with both your hands, squeezing them together as you pull his forehead to yours, “you don’t have to be jealous. he’s just yuji.”

you offer him a sweet smile and eyes full of light, and he offers you a teary-eyed tilt of his head in confusion.

“but—”

“but you’re yuuta. you’re my yuu,” you whisper against his mouth, breath fanning over his skin before you press a delicate peck onto his lips. it’s short, a little too quick for his liking, but it makes him shiver nonetheless. “and i love you, my pretty boy.”

one more peck to his lip, then two, and then you’re kissing him deeply, grabbing his hands and guiding them to your hips before your arms wrap around his neck once more. he pulls you closer on instinct, and even if yuuta sees himself a muddle of colors, he feels bright hues seep through your lips and color him new—and it’s enough.

he thinks it’s enough, even if just for now.

“you were looking for me?” he asks breathlessly one more time as he pulls away, just to be sure. you watch as his eyes lighten a shade as you nod, smiling when his arms wrap impossibly tighter around you.

“of course, i was,” you press a kiss to his jaw, “who else?”

your honor he is my sugarplum baby boy

sweet angel

With a heart of gold, sweet lips, and white lace all over your body — he’s pretty sure you’re his sweet angel.

REQUEST. lingerie under his white button up shirt for gojo + somnophilia + established relationship + oblivious reader

CONTENT/WARNINGS. smut, somnophilia, mentions of insecurity, very slight angst, creampie, cockwarming, body marking, UNEDITED

NOTES. I haven’t written Gojo for a while but I sure do missed it! We’re gonna have more Gojo content this week too! if i finish my wips anyway lmao

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