𓂃✍︎ 18+ mdni · yūta visits you unexpectedly
Maki has been berating you for the past hour, her voice rising as the phone against your ear grows warmer.
You couldn't exactly put her on speaker an hour ago, since you were out running errands — hence the issue at hand.
"When we said you take it easy, we mean total bed rest, and not running along to God knows where," Maki states firmly in disapproval. "That's still pushing past your limits."
You swirl the cherry-flavored lollipop with your tongue before responding, "I just needed some fresh air, and going across the bakery wasn't too bad.”
“Going by yourself is the bad part here, you understand?”
“Besides," you place your shoes back into their rack, and pad your way into your bedroom, where you inconveniently plop right down the middle with a heavy sigh, "I was cleared by Gojō Sensei a few days ago. I should be fine to move around for a bit."
"Tsk! That blindfolded dumbass wouldn't know any better! You barely came back alive from that stupid mission he assigned you, so what makes you think he knows what’s best for you?"
You appreciate your friend's sentiment, but when days start to stretch and the walls begin to close in, going out every once in a while helps you avoid breaking down.
Although you understand Maki's worry about the matter. You didn't exactly . . . show up whole and alive to them when Panda and Toge rescued you.
In fact, the mission is all but scattered fragments, merely pieced together from what Panda last witnessed, to Gojō' Sensei's unreliable summary as his pathetic way of an apology, to Maki's scalding remarks, and lastly down to Toge's horrified monologue of ingredients.
What you can, however, deduce from their antics is that there was a curse that wasn't in the data — and that was what got you cornered.
You stretch your arms towards the ceiling and flex your hands. Shokō successfully regenerated what you lost. The bone structure looks the same, though you still feel that it's entirely different now.
"Hm?" You snap back into the conversation, "Sorry, what did you say?"
You can already hear what Maki would say: this is exactly why you should've stayed in bed, that you're spacing out isn't a good sign, and that you're not fully recovered yet to even think about moving. And even if it's been nearly a month since the incident, pushing yourself beyond what’s necessary is like asking for another round with death.
Instead, perhaps sensing your uneasiness, Maki tells you with a resigned sigh, "Get some rest. We're coming over tomorrow to make sure you won't lift a finger."
You chuckle. "Yeah. That sounds good."
You place the phone above your head after Maki ends the call, then you move your lollipop over to the left, and finally let yourself close your eyes, utterly lax for the day.
Sleep comes quickly for you these days. Perhaps it's the mixture of the day being boring and mundane (and you love it) or the antibiotics kicking in, but either way, you're thoroughly impressed you've fallen asleep for hours.
By the time you blink your eyes to stay awake, the sky has already darkened considerably. There are faint slivers of glow from the moon that filter through the blinds of your windows, accompanied by the bustling lights from the bakery that usually stays open past its closing.
Despite the lack of proper lighting, you aren't quite submerged in the darkness of the night. You can see the outlines of your furniture when you squint.
The lollipop is still in your mouth as you leisurely let yourself regain focus. Your left cheek is numb from sheltering it for hours while you've dozed off, and so, you move it to the other side with a loud clack against your front teeth.
Then that's when you realize something is undeniably off.
The echo falls a note short. Usually, with how spacious your room is, everything that you do bounces around the walls. And with one less echo, you surmise someone's in this room.
Yet you refuse to let panic seize you, despite your options being vastly limited here. Firstly, your weapons were destroyed during the incident. Maki is supposed to hand over the new replacements tomorrow; therefore, this isn't an option you can choose.
Then there's your cursed energy. While a plausible solution, it still needs to assimilate back into your system. Having lost several pressure points and sensory nerves, it's like trying to learn how to walk again with your techniques. Hence, this might not be your first choice.
Furthermore, with this option, you'd count yourself lucky if you can somehow get through the door and run for it. If whoever is in your room is also stupid enough to let you escape. And the chances of that are vastly slim and unlikely, because if they managed to bypass the curses your sensei placed around your apartment and combine that with your insane amount of bad luck, then this trespasser is considerably strong.
So that leaves you with one solid approach and your best bet yet: your phone, which is somewhere above your head. By calling, you need to make sure it's someone who can get to you — impossibly fast.
And the only one you know within the vicinity of Tokyo is Gojō Sensei.
You pretend to stretch your arms, feigning that you just woke up. You spread and move them left and right, widening their reaches for your device, but both come empty.
You swear internally. You know, and you remember vividly, that you placed that above your head. Unless whoever is in this room, who's probably watching you, knew what you're planning to do and moved it beforehand.
You force yourself to yawn. Then you allow a brief pause to settle before you stretch your arms the second time. When you feel nothing of the shape of your phone again, you become a bit more desperate.
You fold one of your legs, dangling from the edge of the bed, and prop it up. With one more careless yawn thrown into the wind, you use the momentum and slide yourself further towards the upper-center of your bed.
And just when you think you feel it, you hear:
Toge's voice compels you to do his bidding. From the corner of your eyes, to the very left of you, there is a silhouette of him standing rigidly. He's rather hard to discern, really, but you can't mistake Toge's voice anywhere.
You visibly relax, though for some reason, a part of you can't shake off the unsettling feeling between you and your friend.
"You got me, Toge." You laugh nervously. "All right. If this is about me walking out to do some little errands, you don't need to fuss about it, too. Maki already gave me the gist."
But Toge doesn't reply with his usual onigiri ingredients. In place of that, what he offers you in return for your remark is unbearable silence.
You grunt and force yourself to move against the technique, even just an inch, to look at him.
"Toge?" You call out, cursing when you won't budge. "Okay, I think I understand. Lesson learned. Aha, please, let go of the command now. Seriously."
Toge still says nothing, but you hear the lightest of his footsteps coming towards you.
And that's when sheer cold panic courses through your veins instantaneously. For whoever this person is, he is not Toge. Because Toge's energy doesn't move like an erratic whirlpool, nor does it try to tether to more than just one powerful core. This one adapts, as if it's meant to be something far beyond the absolute power of divinity.
You don't know how he managed to mimic Toge or how he's obtained his cursed speech, since the only one you personally know who can do that ability is not in Tokyo.
You don't think you'd be able to make it out alive at this rate.
You will yourself to stop thinking about the ifs and decide to keep pretending. If you can remain ignorant until the curse weakens, then you could get out. "Toge, I know you're worried about me, but I was fine walking today. I even got you some ham and cheese. Would you like to eat some with me?"
You would have flinched if you could when you feel a finger, then two — three — and then their palm — skim the shape of your propped knee. It runs pliably and deliberately with its strokes. You feel their hand drag down to your raised leg, towards the shape of your ankle, and rest on the soles of your foot.
There, their hold changes, grabbing and placing it on their right shoulder. It takes a second more for your brain to register that your leg has shifted.
A gruff tone comes out from you as you try your hardest to resist the command once more; alas, you are unable to.
You swallow your gasp when they lean forward, going closer until you feel the fan of their breath brush the tip of your nose intimately. You can smell the clean musk radiating off his neck. Any words you wish to have said to de-escalate the situation have run bone dry.
Your garbled response makes you choke.
"I was told that you were sent on a mission." He caresses your ankle reverently while he nuzzles his lips to your throat. "And that you almost didn't make it. I had to make sure. I need to."
You can't believe it. Holy crap.
In all honesty, you and the others were informed a long time ago by Gojō Sensei that Yūta was going to travel overseas for personal reasons. It didn't come as a surprise to any of you that Yūta, being a special-grade sorcerer, was being sent away, despite your selfish pleas of having him with you just a little longer.
And that was a couple of months ago. From what you know, his trip is almost indefinite, and you would rather quell the hope of seeing him sooner rather than later.
Yet, here he is before you, watching you intensely, basking in you like a depraved man. Almost as if, should he fail to do so, you might slip through his fingers permanently.
"Are you healed properly?" Yūta questions near the shell of your ear.
You blink and clear your throat. "I-I am."
"Are you sure? Nothing feels painful for you?"
"I'm not allowed to go on missions yet, but I can move around better than these past few days." You pause. "Actually, how much do you know about my mission?"
Yūta doesn't answer for a while. His eyes roam over your body, too busy trying to make sure that you're all right.
"Gojō Sensei sent me a letter a couple of days ago."
"Of course, he did," you grumble incoherently.
"It's said that you're in bad shape and I should brace myself in case you don't make it."
"Son of a bitch! He wrote what?"
You're going to kill that man. In fact, Maki will do you the honors once you tell her what he just basically committed. Of all the people not to trigger, Yūta is unquestionably the one person you shouldn't choose.
Yūta's shoulders quiver. His hand that isn't holding your ankle cups your cheek tightly. "I couldn't think straight. Miguel found out about it eventually, because I just — I just wanted to see you. I wanted to come back for you. I wanted to come home. He helped me book a flight at the earliest of convenience. Rika did the work next and tracked you down."
"Gojō Sensei," you groan outrageously. Trust that he makes things worse. Of course, he always does.
"Is he — is he wrong about it?" Yūta's touches stop.
"No, no. It's not that! It wasn't supposed to end that way," you admit, "I was only meant to investigate a rundown place that houses several weak curses. If they aren't much, I would exorcize them. What no one expected was that there was a special grade that was cleverly masking its energy through the mass amount of the weaker ones."
Yūta presses his forehead on your mattress, just a hairsbreadth away from you. His ragged breathing thunders past your ears. It sounds so hollow, broken, and dismantled, much like how he used to be the first time you met him. "And?"
"Blasted my legs and arm off before Ijichi could have said anything else. I don't remember what happened next about the mission or even the curses, but Panda said they've been wiped clean just recently."
"I almost lost you," comes his muffled voice, yet neither of you can miss the haunting dread of his tone, "and I wasn't even there."
"No one could have known." You say in comfort. "I also should've been more attentive to my surroundings. I got too arrogant, and it cost me almost dearly. If it hadn't been for Toge carrying me out while Panda basically giving us cover . . . "
He shakes his head, muttering to himself that it's all the reason he should've gone back sooner. That he should've begged and begged Gojō Sensei to take him back.
"Yūta," you call him, but you are unable to take him out of his own self-torture.
He continues to mutter, curse, and mumble about the things that he should've done if he were here, about how he wouldn't have made you go through things alone, and admits he was terrified just thinking about you being healed without his presence while he was in Africa, blissfully enjoying meals after meals. How stupid, stupid, STUPID everything is.
"Yūta," you coax him once more, pushing your lollipop back to the left side. Thankfully, your mouth and your eyes can still move on their own. "Can you release me?"
Yūta's rambling ceases, almost suddenly. The hold around your ankle steels, shackling and submitting you to his strength. When he pushes himself a little higher to cage you beneath him, to have you look into his eyes that's rid of the hesitancy he once bore like an armor, you can only allow yourself to swallow visibly.
Whatever training he has received in Africa, or wherever else he's been situated by Sensei, Yūta has changed profoundly. You can see and feel it with his muscles growing taut, with his chin raising itself in confidence instead of submission, and his eyes — oh, the eyes you've missed — holding you steady.
He takes your lollipop from your mouth and puts it in his. Even a measly sweet sucker is commanded to obey his tongue.
It seems wrong to think about how sensual it looks when Yūta nestles the lollipop against the back of his teeth, never letting his eyes leave yours as he compels you to watch him. Then he breaks a tiny piece from it with a press of his jaw down.
It was carnal, the best way you can put it. The precision with which he merely takes what's needed and leaves the rest incomplete.
"I need to see for myself." He states. "I need to make sure you're actually fine."
He inspects the leg that's resting on his shoulder first. He carefully rotates your ankle, thoroughly examining for any unusual bones protruding through your skin. For one thing, he certainly doesn't like how delayed your reactions are.
You say it's because it's still trying to heal internally. His disapproval humming tells you otherwise, and he isn't pleased with the results.
He places his own knee at the center of you, narrowly brushing your most intimate part, when he lifts your other leg and places it on top, too.
Yūta's attention moves from one limb to the next, making sure that everything's perfect. You let him at this point, not that you've got your choice yet, but you are beginning to think that this feels rather nice, with how gentle and attentive he is with you. And in the recesses of your muddled brain, how aroused he makes you feel.
His movement falters briefly when his hands reach the hem of your shorts. You peek an eye open and look at him.
There is a certain gaze he has, fixated on what's covering you. "I need to look in here as well."
Before you can utter, he already pulls them down, and you resist a moan from the cold breeze that seems to nip your skin bitterly. Yūta gets off the bed and crouches below you, his face leveling to your nether region. He tests a finger, pushing towards your center fold. Immediately, you soak him completely.
"Let me," he says, and pries your labia open.
"Ah, Yūta!" you breathlessly call out. The air bites you harsher the more he opens you wider.
He uses three fingers: one flicks your clit around while the other two slowly entice you back and forth with their rhythmic pace.
It goes on for several more minutes, with only the euphoric whines you can provide. The sounds of your breathing calling wretchedly out for him and the squelches of your starving cunt are the symphonies both of you can only hear throughout this room.
Suddenly, Yūta twists and curls his fingers roughly inside, and you feel yourself awash with an overwhelming sense of liberation.
You moan uproariously, the sounds bouncing from one corner to the next.
Yūta watches with a penetrating epiphany of just how sinfully wet your core is, how greedy it becomes for him that you would actually give in and submit to his whims. What a deplorable woman, staining his fingers with the most precious thing no one will ever come to know.
You feel him lap your cunt when you start leaking, scooping his tongue to get more from you. You moan for him to stop and give you a second. He only does when you cry his name louder.
"You taste perfect as always."
Yūta shifts, and swiftly, he takes his cursed-imbued katana from its scabbard and seamlessly rips the remaining of your clothes with a clean slice.
You are still reeling from your release when he resumes his inspection.
He pulls up and touches your breasts and feels the suppleness of them on his hands. Next, he checks your waist, which doesn't seem like it's been dislocated and then relocated back in.
"Good." He nods, the sound of your lollipop in his mouth clacks twice.
He shuffles to your collarbone — and all's fine in that area, too. To your back and its dimples, the sides of your neck where he litters his mark, down your throat. He opens your mouth, stares into your eyes, and double-checks your head for any stitches he wasn't informed of. Nothing of the ordinary. Everything's all good.
And yet, there is an indisputable rage you feel radiating from his presence, choking you from how lethally potent it's exuding. Whether that's directed to anyone in particular or the general gist of the whole situation or even to you, you can hardly tell because Yūta is beyond furious.
"Hey, look at me," you try in hopes that you can calm him down. "I am fine. I can't go on missions for the time being, since I basically need to let my nerves reset over here," you point your eyes to your arm and legs, "and get them accustomed to me again. But other than that, I feel fine."
Yūta nods stiffly. His entire body is clenched so hard, you feel his nails digging sharply against your hips. You worry that at this rate, he might set himself on fire, and Rika would burst in here and actually demolish your place.
Clack. The candy goes. Clack. Clack. Clack.
"I promise that I'm all right. Gojō Sensei was exaggerating a bit in the letter. I didn't die. And you didn't have to come home, you know."
"Toge wrote to me as well." He says through gritted teeth. Clack. Clack. "Toge never writes unless something actually happened. And for him to do so, it was bad."
You relent with a sigh. "Okay, yes, it was, but only for a moment. I was fixed up in time, and so, don't worry too much about it. Please?"
"Yūta," you beg, "Please? Trust me. I'm okay. I don't know what else I can say to make you feel better right now, but please know that I'm okay. I'm better, especially since you came home for me."
Yūta settles his gaze back to you and does as he's told. You coax him to give in to your lips, and after a few more tries, he finally obeys, once he removes the lollipop, as he cages you with his hands on either side of your face.
He kisses you out of desperation and longing and the implied gut-wrenching terror of what could've been, the very same in which you feel burning inside of you when you thought you wouldn't be able to see him again.
"I've missed you." He says between his teeth.
"I've missed you, too." You utter back through labored breaths. "I've really missed you, Yūta."
"I'm here," he says. He licks your bottom lip for entrance, and you allow him. He moans against your mouth as he deepens the kiss hungrily. "I'm here."
One of his arms slides down with a resounding swoosh against your sheets, and before you can wonder what he's going to do, you feel a foreign thing protruding inside your cunt.
"Y-Yūta, what is t-that?" You try to break the kiss away, but with your movements rendered useless, it's difficult to try and even speak when he stops at nothing in claiming your lips repeatedly.
He doesn't deign to give you an answer either, too drunk on what he's doing.
"Yūta," you call again, gasping a moan, as you feel it bottoming in and out of you in swift motions. "Did you just put —"
Yūta tilts your head forcefully towards his, squeezes your cheeks to open your mouth wider, and captures your lips to drown out any words you wish to speak out, as you feel the lollipop (you are certain of this now) twirling and pushing inside you at such an unforgivable force.
"Oh — shit!" You barely let out as you are near the edge again. "Yūta — Yūta! Wait, wait, wait! Shit! I'm gonna — gon —"
Being immobilized for this long prevents you from writhing, and it is in this predicament that you gradually realize that coming undone like this is inexplicably more intense.
Your eyes roll back, your mouth slackens as it opens and brings your tongue out to the side, and drool slithers down to your neck, where Yūta licks it clean.
He gives you exactly three heavy breaths before he unbuckles his pants and slides inside you with ease. Both of you moan almost in harmony for missing this contact for months.
"I've always — shit," he cuts himself off, grunting through the roughness of his thrusts.
Your limbs are beginning to loosen from their stiffness. Yūta's command is weakening. When you finally catch yourself with the return of your control, he seizes your arms and legs and wraps them around his neck and waist.
Both of your kisses have turned sloppy. Occasionally, you would accidentally slide to his cheek, or he would bite your chin by mistake. Neither of you has cared enough.
He rolls his hips to the tandem of your movements, and as he breaks away to taste the cherry-flavored sucker coated with you and cracks it into pieces in his mouth, you almost climax at the sight of him.
The sight of him being powerfully raw.
He captures your lips again, pushing some of the pieces of the candy inside your mouth. You taste yourself, you taste him, you taste what little is left of the cherry intact.
The mixture of everything is heavenly.
"I wanted to kill them," he tells you.
"Who?" You wrap your legs tighter, sucking him further inside.
"The moment I've read the letter from Sensei. I wanted to kill them all. Every single one who touched you." He confesses. "Who dared to try to take you from me. Did they think they would get away so easily?"
His thrusts have become sporadic. His anger fueled him to hit harder. He doesn't stop his progression. You beg him not to.
"Then Toge explained everything. Who do I have to kill for you? For three days before I came here, I hunted them down. Especially the one that nearly killed you."
So, it was he who dealt with them, the one Panda informed you when all those curses were suddenly wiped out of their existence. All this time, you've assumed it was Gojō Sensei or some first-grade sorcerer. Never did you expect, as Yūta never announced his abrupt visit, that it'd be him.
"They won't hurt you anymore, Baby." He kisses your forehead gently as he holds your hands over your head. He bites your elbow, the upper part of your armpits, marking your collarbone and littering his claim across your chest like an undiscovered constellation. "Never again. They wouldn't dare. They wouldn't."
The tightness coiling at the pit of your stomach resurfaces. You hardly catch yourself calling out to him when you come again with the loudest, most pleasurable scream you've ever done tonight.
Yūta isn't too far behind. With just a couple more thrusts and a promise of devotion for you, he spills inside.
And even after both of you are wholly spent, when you've untangled your legs around him and collapse further into your bed, he refuses to pull out.
Yūta is still hard, and he rocks himself back and forth, edging himself to another release.
There is a claim that he is making here, one that promises retribution to whoever may defy him, and he is making sure that for any curse and sorcerers alike who dare to even try and take you from him, they would know and feel that a part of him is inside of you. That they would think twice before considering the consequences of their actions. Unless they wish a painful death.
"You're coming with me." He announces through his slow fucking.
"Don't you want to stay here instead? You've been gone for a while." You playfully bargain in between rasps and moans.
"There's something Gojō Sensei needs me to look into," He huffs a breath, "but I can't risk leaving you alone anymore. I've already discussed this with him, and we'd be heading in a week."
"All right." You bring him closer to you. "M'can't wait . . ."
Yūta kisses your cheek. "For you, I'll do anything."
© ohfreshlinen — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content.
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