pink lip gloss & attachment issues

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 - 𝐒𝐇𝐄/𝐇𝐄𝐑 - 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 - 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒

[vintageflowerangel]

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

I don't know—I've deactivated so many blogs and made so many, and I'm still figuring out what I should focus on. In this blog, I want to dedicate it to poly relationships or just Yuta, or I might write for both first and second years (that might not actually happen because it's still undecided). I've got a few pairings in mind, like Yuta x Reader x Maki and Toji x Reader x Shiu (not 100% sure if I just want to dedicate it to Yuta x Reader x Maki because Yuta is my hyperfixation right now). Not to forget if you're uncomfortable with the content Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, feel free to filter the following tags.

#dead dove: do not eat #dead dove do not eat #dead dove #dead dove content

#yandere #yandere content #yandere character #yandere reader

#dark #dark content

#smut #dubcon #noncon #coercion

#tw: incest #brother/sister incest #sister/sister incest #cousin/cousin incest #stepcest #fauxcest #sibling abuse

#tw: gagging #tw: vomit #tw: emetophobia #tw: forced feeding #tw: cannibalism #tw: body horror

#tw: kidnapping #tw: abduction #stalking #confinement #isolation #blackmail #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: possessive behavior #tw: humiliation #tw: degradation

#suicide #self-harm #cutting #threats

#tw: forced marriage #tw: forced pregnancy #tw: pregnancy #tw: miscarriage #tw: infertility ... and etc.

I want this blog to be a safe place for dark content. ♡

RULES ♡ DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT ♡ ABOUT ME ♡ DNI ♡ TAGS ♡ MASTERLIST ♡ MASTERLIST ♡ MASTERLIST ♡ SERIES COLLECTION

NOTE: The following dividers were made by @/bbyg4rlhelps who is now @/222luvr and @/cursed-carmine. Also in the future I might write platonic sibling relationships and incest. If you don't want to see incest, filter the tags (if you want a tutorial I will happily help you). Future posts would look like "brother x sister" meaning platonic, while "brother/sister incest" means incest!!!

[nightshiftnotes]

ꨄ︎ four days: day one

yuta okkotsu x fem!reader nonsorcerer

you’ve been ignoring the strange things following you for months. then one night at work, they finally get close enough to touch, and yuta is the one who finds you.

ꨄ︎ wc: 10.6k

ꨄ︎ genre: horror, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, eventual smut

ꨄ︎ warnings: canon-typical violence, curses, horror imagery, injury, blood, stalking themes, mentions of a deceased/stalker ex, eventual smut

ꨄ︎ series: four days — day one

banner by @pixopix

Four days. That’s all it takes.

Day One

The first sign that something is wrong is that every single call bell goes off at the same time. Six lights all going off at the nurses' station.

Room 203. 205. 206. 208. 211. 215. 

Then the entire floor. For a second, you and Mika stare at the lights. Then you let out a tired laugh.

“Oh, come on.”

It is 2:14 AM. The last round of checks took longer than it should’ve because Takeda was sundowning and swore it was 1962. Saitō lost her favorite blanket that you're pretty sure doesn't actually exist, and two people called in sick so there were only two of you working tonight.

You’ve been trying to finish your charting for almost twenty minutes.

Mika sets her coffee cup down that she’s barely touched since midnight. “You had to say it was quiet.”

“I said it was peaceful.”

“Same thing.”

Another light comes on.

Room 210. Then 204. 

The rings from each room start going off so quickly that the sounds blur into one continuous and loud beeping sound. You push away from the desk and reach for the silence button.

“Either everybody decided they have to pee at the exact same time, or this thing is broken.”

“My money is on broke.”

Mika leans over the desk and unplugs the machine, then plugs it back in. A second later, every light comes back on. You both groan.

“Fantastic,” you mutter.

Mika picks up the phone and dials the overnight maintenance number.

“I’ll start checking on residents.” You say.

“Wait until I see if they can reset it remotely.”

“If Saitō is actually calling, she’ll keep pressing the button until her thumb falls off.”

“That’s true.” Mika holds the phone away from her ear and frowns. “No answer.”

“Try security.”

“I am.”

The call rings a few times, then static. Mika hangs up the phone and picks it up again. There’s no dial tone.

She presses the phone down a few times back into the base. Nothing. No clicking, no dial tone, just nothing. 

You glance toward the call bell machine. The lights are still flashing, but the sound is gone.

“That’s weird.”

“The machine probably broke too.”

“Maybe.”

You’re still more irritated than anything. No reliable call bell system or phone in a long term care facility was going to be a problem. 

Old buildings have bad wiring. The facility was supposed to replace half the equipment every year, and every year somebody decides it can last just a little longer to save a few bucks. 

Mika pulls her cell phone from out of her pocket. “No signal.”

“We’re inside a concrete building.”

“I had signal ten minutes ago.”

You check yours. You don’t have any service either. “Maybe maintenance is working on something.”

“At two in the morning without telling the night staff?”

“It wouldn’t be the strangest thing management has done.”

Mika gives you a tired look. “Get the paper room list. We’ll do a manual check.”

You pull the clipboard from under the desk. The lights above the station flicker a few times. Then the computer monitors shut off.

You stare at the blank screen in front of you. Mika sighs through her nose. “If the backup generator starts failing too, I’m going home.”

“You can’t leave me here.”

“You’re young. You’ll survive.”

“I don’t know how to reset the generator.”

“Then you’ll learn.”

The overhead lights stay on, but they are a lot dimmer than they were before.

“East wing first?”

Mika looks at her watch. “We’ll split it. You start with 203. I’ll go from 215 and meet you in the middle.”

You look down the hallway. Nothing looks unusual.

The hall is lit by the low overnight lights on the walls. The residents' doors are closed. The handrail runs along the wall. A cart of folded towels sits outside the shower room where the evening staff left it.

Then you notice how quiet it is. Eerily quiet. There should be TVs playing old shows muffled in a few rooms. Takeda usually talks in his sleep. Fujimoto-san's oxygen machine can usually be heard from down the hall. You don’t hear any of that.

“Mika.”

“What?”

“Can you hear the ventilation system?”

She stops, and listens. The soft mechanical hum that normally fills the building is gone. So is the humming from the refrigerator behind the nursing station. The wall clock is still moving, but you can’t hear it ticking.

Mika looks up at the ceiling. “Power issue.”

“The emergency lights would be on.”

She walks over to the control panel and sees the small green light on the screen. “Still says we have power.”

The call lights keep flashing. Every single one of them. A light in the east wing goes out. Then the next one. The darkness moves down the hall one section at a time as each light slowly turns off. 

“Mika….”

“I see it.”

The last light in front of room 203 flickers, but stays on. You and Mika stare at each other for a second. Then Saitō screams from somewhere in the dark.

You’re moving towards her room before Mika can tell you not to. 

“Wait.”

“She could’ve fallen.” You say over your shoulder. 

Mika follows behind you, muttering something under her breath that sounds like a prayer or maybe complaining about young people these days. Maybe both.

The door to room 205 opens a few inches very slowly. You both look at it.

“Fujimoto-san?” you call out shakily. 

There’s no answer. You take one step toward the room and the door opens a little more.

Fujimoto-san stands on the other side in a loose cotton nightshirt, with one hand clamped tightly around the frame.

He’s eighty-six years old and usually needs a walker to get around but there is no walker in front of him right now.

“Fujimoto-san, don’t move. You could fall.”

His face is pale. “There’s a woman in my ceiling.”

Goosebumps rise over your skin. Mika reaches out to him first and takes his arm. “There is no woman, Fujimoto-san. You were just dreaming.”

“No.” His eyes stay fixed above you, towards the ceiling. “She has been following that girl.”

Mika glances at you. You look up, but the ceiling is empty. Of course it is, you’re being ridiculous. White panels. A sprinkler head. Nothing else.

“Let’s get you to the dining room,” you say. “Where’s your walker?”

He points into the room without looking away from the ceiling. You walk into the room to grab it for him but as you turn, something taps above you.

Just once but you freeze. Then there’s another tap from further down the hallway. It sounds like something is moving toward room 207.

Mika hears it too. You can tell by the way her hand tightens around Fujimoto-san’s arm.

“Take him to the dining room,” you say.

“You’re not going alone.”

“Saitō-san screamed.”

“And there are two staff members on the other side of the building.”

“Who aren’t coming.” 

She looks at you for a minute before sighing. “Stay where I can see you.”

You would normally argue that you’re not a child and can handle yourself. But tonight, you just nod.

Mika starts guiding Fujimoto-san toward the staff station. You keep walking down the hallway to room 207.

The hall light directly above you goes out. You stop walking. Down the hall, room 207’s door is open.

“Saitō-san?”

Something moves behind the gap of the doorway. It’s low to the ground. You take out your phone and use the flashlight to get a better look. The light shakes slightly.

“Saitō-san, it’s me.”

A faint voice answers. “Don’t let it in.”

You walk quickly towards her voice. The room is cold enough that your breath fogs in front of your face.

Saitō-san is sitting upright in bed with her blanket pulled up to her chin. Her silver hair has come loose from its braid, and her eyes are fixed on the window, even though the curtains are closed. 

Her oxygen tubing is still in place. The portable concentrator next to her bed is humming normally despite the quiet outside the room.

You walk slowly towards her. “Are you hurt?”

“Close the door.”

You turn. The door is already starting to swing shut but you catch it before it can. 

“What happened?”

“There was somebody outside my window.”

“We’re on the third floor.”

“I know where I live.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“She was standing outside the window.”

You look toward the closed curtains. There’s a faint scraping noise against the glass behind them. 

Your breath catches.

It can’t be a branch. There are no trees close enough to reach this floor.

The scrape happens again slowly. Like something hard is dragging across the outside of the window.

Saitō-san grabs your wrist. Her fingers are surprisingly strong. “You see them too.”

You look down at her. “See what?”

Her eyes move past you. “The things around you.”

Your stomach drops. For months, you’ve been telling yourself the shapes were from stress. A reflection in the glass of a train. A figure standing behind you in a convenience store security mirror. Long fingers disappearing around the corner of your balcony. You’ve never seen any of them clearly. Not enough to make them real.

You turn toward the curtains. Something presses against the fabric from the other side of the glass.

A head, it’s much too large. The curtains curl inward around the outline of a forehead and a long, uneven jaw.

You can’t move.

A hand slides into the curtains. Not through the window. Its shadow moves across the curtain like the thing is crawling over the outside glass.

One finger. Two. Six.

Saitō-san starts praying. The door behind you slams shut. You spin around and drop your phone on the ground, the flashlight landing flat on the ground so that now only your screen lights up the room.

The door is closed.

You rush towards it and try to pull the handle but it doesn’t budge. 

“Mika?” 

You hit the call bell button. “Mika, I’m in 207. The door is stuck.”

Clicking answers through the speaker. It sounds almost like laughter.

“Saitō-san, can you stand?”

“No.”

“Can you get into your wheelchair if I bring it closer?”

“I can stand.”

“You just said—”

“I am not letting that thing see me being carried.”

Under any other circumstances, you might laugh at that. But tonight, you position her wheelchair next to the bed and lock the brakes.

The curtains pull tighter against the shape outside, it’s slowly moving downwards. The outline of its head turns sideways as it descends, it’s neck bending farther than any neck should.

You help Saitō-san place both feet on the floor.

“On three.”

“You always count too quickly.”

“I’ll count slowly.”

“You say that every time.”

“One.”

The window creaks.

“Two.”

A cloudy white eye appears through the narrow gap between the curtains. Not outside the glass, but inside the room. You stop breathing and the eye blinks.

Saitō-san follows your stare. Her grip crushes your forearm. “Oh,” she whispers.

The curtain starts to open. Parted from the middle by long gray fingers.

“Three.”

You lift Saitō-san under the arms and help her pivot towards the chair. She cries out when her knees buckle, but you get her into the wheelchair.

The curtain tears and a face pushes through it. 

It has way too many eyes and no nose. Its mouth stretches almost from one side of its head to the other, filled with small black teeth. The rest of its body stays flattened against the window, it’s limbs bent around it like the legs of an insect.

Saitō-san screams again. You unlock the chair and pull her towards the door, but it still won’t open.

You ram your shoulder into it once and pain shoots down your arm.

Again.

Nothing.

The creature’s longest arm slides through the torn curtain, and it’s hand reaches the floor.

The glass of the window isn’t broken. It’s not climbing through the window. It seems to be just passing through it. 

You grab the metal IV pole from next to the side of the bed and swing at it, hitting its wrist. At first, you feel resistance, then the metal pole seems to pass right through the creature. It turns its head to look at you and blinks it's eye, and its smile widens. It was looking at Saitō-san, but now it seems to be able to see you. The room goes quiet, the oxygen machine finally seeming to give up. The creature inhales a long and slow breath. Like it's breathing you in, and a clicking sound starts to emanate from deep in its throat.

You've heard that sound before. Never this close, and never this loud. But you have heard it. In the walls of your apartment when you're trying to sleep, in your car on your drives home from work when you aren't sure if you can keep your eyes open anymore, and one time you heard it in the hallway when you were fumbling for your keys at 1 AM. 

You place yourself between the creature and Saitō-san in her wheelchair.

“Don’t.”

The word leaves your mouth before you can stop it. The creature pulls the rest of itself through the window. Its body unfolds one joint at a time. It has too many arms, too many elbows, its mouth opens soundlessly and it starts crawling towards you. 

You back away toward the door, keeping one hand on the handle of Saitō-san’s wheelchair. The door handle turns and you almost scream. The door opens behind you and Mika rushes in. She pauses to look at your face for a split second. Then she looks around the room in one quick glance. Saitō-san is crying in her wheelchair, the curtain is shredded, and you're standing in front of her with an IV pole raised up like a baseball bat.

“What happened?”

“Move.”

Mika looks at you. “What?”

“It’s right there.”

Her eyes follow yours toward the window. The creature pulled itself almost entirely into the room now. Its limbs bend and straighten underneath it with a dry clicking sound, it's long fingers spreading across the floor. Mika sees none of that. 

“What’s right there?”

The creature lunges at you. “Move!”

You shove the IV pole at it and the metal screeches as it makes impact. The center of the pole bends inward as it hits the creature, almost ripping it from out of your hands. Mika’s face goes blank as she tries to reconcile what she just saw. You ram the bent pole forward again, trying to buy more time to get the hell out of that room. 

“Take her.”

Mika doesn’t ask another question. She just grabs the wheelchair handles and pulls Saitō-san through the doorway while you stumble after them. As soon as all three of you are out of the room, the door slams shut hard enough to shake the wall.

Mika flinches. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.”

“You were looking straight at it.”

“I still don’t know what it is.”

The lights flicker overhead while you walk towards the nurses' station. They don’t go out completely though, they blink weakly, leaving the hallway bright for a second, then dim enough that it's hard to see much. Fujimoto-san is standing between his room and the nurses' station, both hands locked around his walker.

You stare at him. “Mika, why is he still here?”

“He refused to move without you.”

“I told her the woman was following the girl,” Fujimoto-san says.

“What woman?”

He lifts one shaking hand and points at the ceiling again. “The crawling one.”

Your stomach drops.

Something crawls along the ceiling behind him. It's smaller than the creature in Saitō-san’s room, but looks wrong enough that they could be the same kind of thing. Its torso hangs upside down while its head turns slowly toward you. One arm drops from the ceiling tile, then the other, lowering it's body to the floor.

“Mika, get him away from there.”

She looks behind Fujimoto-san. At what she perceives as an empty hallway. “Why?”

“Just do it. Now." Your voice is shaky but firm. 

Mika pushes Saitō-san’s chair toward you, grabs the back of Fujimoto-san’s sweater, and pulls him hard enough that his walker squeaks sideways across the floor. As soon as they move, another small creature falls from the ceiling exactly where they had been standing just a second before. The impact cracks a ceiling tile and leaves four dark marks on the linoleum floor. Mika just stares at the floor. 

Fujimoto-san turns his head to look behind him. “It came down,” he says.

“Yes, I know it came down.” Mika gets his walker facing the right direction again. “Can you move?”

“I am moving.”

“Faster.”

“My legs are eighty-six years old.”

The creature behind you starts crawling slowly towards you, its hands slap against the floor in an uneven rhythm, way too fast for the way its body is moving. Mika can't see it, but she hears it. You know she does from the way she looks over her shoulder every few seconds.

She reaches the fire alarm on the wall and hits it with the palm of her hand, but nothing happens. She hits it again, but again nothing happens. 

“No alarm.”

“Fire doors?”

“Manual release.”

The doors on the east wing from the dining area are less than twenty feet in front of you. If you can reach them, you can close off the corridor and get everyone else out and to the main lobby. Then a dark shadow near the doors moves. A hand curls around the doorframe, it's long fingers tightening against the wood. Another creature is stepping out of the shadows towards you.

You stop so quickly that Saitō-san almost falls out of her wheelchair, and Mika nearly walks into you. “What?”

“There’s another one by the doors.”

Her eyes look toward the far end of the hallway. She sees nothing but the flickering lights and the doors hanging open.

“What do we do?” she asks.

Not Are you sure?

Not What are you talking about?

She believes you now.

You look at Saitō-san in the wheelchair, then Fujimoto-san leaning heavily over his walker. Mika twisted her knee transferring a resident last month and still refuses to admit it hurts. None of them can run, you know this. 

The creature near the doors pulls the rest of itself into the hallway. It has no eyes that you can see, but its face turns toward you anyway. Behind you, the smaller one moves closer. All three creatures' heads turn toward you. Your stomach drops.

You swallow hard and force your voice to stay steady. “Take them through the service hall.” 

Mika looks toward the narrow passage next to the linen cupboard. It's usually used for moving laundry carts between wings and opens near the kitchen on the other side.

“We won’t get the wheelchair through that turn.”

“You will.”

“What about you?”

“You’ll fit. I'll be right behind you. If we all go together, you won't have time to get them through." 

Mika stares at you. “No.”

“Mika, you have to go.”

“No.”

“You’re the senior staff member. Get them out.”

“You are nineteen.”

“And faster than the three of you combined. I can handle myself."

The door to Saitō-san’s room groans behind you and the top hinge tears out of the wall. Mika sees that and her expression changes.

“Call the police when you get service again.”

“The police?”

“I don’t know who else handles invisible monsters.”

Fujimoto-san looks offended. “They aren’t invisible.”

“To you,” Mika says.

“The big one is ugly.”

“Thank you, Fujimoto-san.”

The door behind you bursts open and Mika jumps at the sound.

The largest creature steps out completely into the hallway now, its shoulders scraping both walls as it drags itself forward. Mika can't see its body, but she sees the scratches forming in the walls on both sides of the hall.

Her grip tightens on Saitō-san’s wheelchair. “What are they doing?”

You step away from them and every creatures head tracks your movement. The smaller one turns away from Fujimoto-san. The thing near the fire doors changes direction. Even the largest one crawling from Saitō-san’s room keeps all of its cloudy eyes on you.

“They’re looking at me.”

Mika’s looks down the hallway, tracking the sounds as they move toward you. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

But you do know one thing. They had been around you before tonight. Not this clearly. Never close enough to touch. Only shapes reflected in dark windows, fingers vanishing around corners, a clicking sound in your apartment walls when you were trying to sleep. They weren't drawn here for some unknown reason. They must be following you.

“Take them,” you say.

Mika shakes her head. “I’m not leaving you.”

“You’re not leaving me. You’re getting them somewhere safe.”

“And then?”

“I’ll be right behind you."

You take a pen out of your pocket and throw it down the hallway away from them. The smaller creature darts after it, but the other two keep looking at you.

“So much for that.”

You grab the fire extinguisher from the wall and yank it free. Mika starts forcing the wheelchair down the narrow hallway. Saitō-san reaches for you.

“Come with us.”

“I will.”

“You’re lying.”

“I know.”

Mika manages to get the front wheels through the opening. The chair catches against the corner.

“Fujimoto-san, go ahead.”

“I can help.”

“You can help by moving.”

He mutters something about disrespectful young people but shuffles into the passage.

The largest creature moves closer, and it's mouth opens, the low grumbling clicking starts coming from deep inside its throat. 

Your hands tighten around the fire extinguisher. “Come on.”

The creature lunges at you and you squeeze the handle. White powder explodes across the hallway. The curse shrieks, high and loud and wrong. You don't wait to see whether the extinguisher actually hurt it or not, you just run. Away from the narrow hallway they just disappeared down. The creatures follow you. 

You hear Mika shouting your name from behind you, but the hallway is already starting to blur behind you. The nurses' station looks further away than it did a few seconds ago, the lights above it shrinking while you run away.

The smaller creature drops down from the ceiling in front of you. You barely have time to lift up the extinguisher. The metal cylinder catches it across the head with a wet crack, as you slam it into the creature. The impact twists both of your wrists and sends pain shooting up your arms. The creature tumbles sideways, its limbs tangling under it, but one clawed hand catches you across the chest before it falls to the ground.

Your feet leave the floor and you hit the wall hard enough to see white. The extinguisher rolls away and you struggle to catch a breath. Pain spreads down your shoulder and hip. Your hearing dulls until all you can make out is the distant sound of Saitō-san screaming from the service hallway.

The creature crawls over to you and its hands settle on either side of your body. Its mouth opens and several voices whisper inside it. Some are crying, some laughing, you swear one says your name. Not in any voice you recognize, but it sends shivers down your spine. You try to crawl backward, but your shoulder buckles and your palm slides over the polished floor.

The curse raises one long arm, showing the long claws on its hands. You know, with complete certainty, that this is going to kill you. You're going to die.

A dark blur passes over your face and The creature's arm falls to the floor next to you, severed. The creature looks at it and so do you. Both of you trying to understand what just happened. Then the creature shrieks and pulls away.

A young man stands between you and it, holding a sword in both hands. Dark hair falls across his forehead. His white uniform jacket is torn at one shoulder, and something black stains the edge of his blade before evaporating into the air.

He's not looking at you, he's looking directly at the creature. Relief hits you so hard it almost hurts. He can see it too.

The curse launches itself at him. The young man moves once. His sword cuts cleanly through its body, and the thing comes apart in a rush of black smoke that dissolves before it touches the floor. The clicking stops. The hallway goes quiet.

He turns immediately and drops to one knee beside you. “Are you hurt?”

You stare at him. He's young. Around your age, maybe a little bit older. There's blood near his collar, but you can't tell whether it belongs to him or not. “You saw it.”

His face softens slightly. “Yes.”

“You actually saw it.”

“Yes.”

Behind him, something slams against the wall. The larger creature is still coming towards you. The young man stands and steps in front of you again, sword lifting between both of his hands. “Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

“There are more people here?”

You nod and point toward the service hall. “Two residents and another staff member.”

“Are they hurt?”

“I don’t know.”

The creature gets close enough to make out its disgusting features. The young man’s face hardens. “Get to them,” he says.

“What about you?”

“I’ll handle this.”

The creature’s mouth opens and all of its eyes move past him and stay on you. The young man notices that. His grip tightens around the sword. “Go.”

You push yourself up using the wall. Your shoulder screams, but your legs hold your weight. You make it three steps before looking back at him. He is standing alone in the middle of the hallway while the creature crawls toward him, its body nearly filling the space between the walls.

He doesn't move away. Another one crawls around the corner and he moves. You barely see the sword move. The creature splits down the middle. Black fluid spatters on the wall and then vanishes.

The air suddenly feels charged, and pressure floods the hallway. Something enormous is behind him. You can't see it, but you can feel it. The remaining creatures freeze. The young man doesn't though. He steps through them one by one, moving his sword quickly as he does. A cut through the first one. A turn of his wrist through the second one. The largest creature straightens up near the service hall, its mouth opening across its stomach. 

The invisible presence behind him moves forward. The walls groan and the large creature is quickly crushed into the floor, and the young man drives his sword through its head.

Silence returns. The hallway lights stop flickering and all turn back on at once. The call alarms start ringing all at the same time. Every TV turns on behind the residents' doors. The ventilation system kicks back to life.

You stay on the floor. The young man stands at the end of the hallway with his sword lowered. His white jacket is torn at one shoulder and smeared with black, the same dark grime streaked across his face and hands. He tilts his head slightly, eyes moving around the space as if he’s listening for more of those things. When he turns toward you, you notice the dark circles under his eyes. He looks exhausted, but still alert.

He sees you trying to stand and crosses the distance immediately. “Wait.”

“I’m fine.”

“You hit the wall.”

“I noticed.”

“Can you move your fingers?”

You look down at your right hand. It moves but your shoulder screams. “Yes.”

“Any numbness?”

“No.”

“Dizziness?”

“A little.”

He kneels near you. “Can I look at your head?”

“My head is fine.”

“You said you were dizzy.”

“I was thrown into a wall.”

“That’s why I’m asking.” His voice catches you off guard. It's softer than you expect. Not weak, just gentle enough that it feels strangely out of place after everything you just watched him do.

You stare at him and he watches you. “Fine.”

He moves closer and his fingers part your hair carefully near your temple. His hands are warm and gentle. “Tell me if this hurts.”

“It doesn’t.”

“And here?”

“No.”

“You have a small cut.”

“Am I dying?”

His eyes widen. “No.”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.”

You would laugh if your ribs didn't hurt. You hear footsteps coming from the service hall. Mika comes into view first, pushing Saitō-san’s empty wheelchair ahead of her. Tanabe-san and one of the other aides from the west wing follow close behind her. 

The moment Mika sees you sitting against the wall, she pushes the wheelchair aside and rushes up to you. “What happened?”

“I’m okay.”

“That wasn't my question.”

She crouches beside you, already checking your face and arms for blood. Her gaze moves toward the young man standing a few feet away with a sword still in his hand. Then to the long crack running along the wall behind him.

Mika points. “Did he do that?”

“No,” you say quickly.

The young man lowers the sword and bows slightly. “Yuta Okkotsu."

Mika stares at him. “Why do you have a sword?”

Yuta glances down at the sword like he forgot he was even holding one. “I was sent to deal with the disturbance.”

“What disturbance?”

His eyes move briefly toward you. You can see him deciding how much he should say. “There was something dangerous inside the building,” he says carefully. “It should be gone now, but I need to check the rest of the rooms.”

Mika looks at the scrape marks on the floor. Then at the bent IV pole lying halfway down the corridor. “What kind of something?”

Yuta hesitates. “I’m not certain yet.”

Mika seems to know that he isn't telling the truth, but she also has an entire wing full of residents to account for and no time to interrogate the stranger with the sword. "Fine. You can be mysterious after we make sure nobody is hurt.”

Yuta straightens. “I can help.”

“Good. Start with the rooms closest to the window and don’t move anyone without telling a nurse.”

“Okay.” He obeys immediately and you almost laugh.

Mika turns back to you and offers her hand. “Up.”

“My shoulder hurts.”

“I assumed that when I found you sitting under a crack in the wall.”

“I can stand on my own.”

“You’ve had enough independence for one night.” She pulls you upright before you can argue. Pain shoots through your shoulder and down your side. Your knees wobble, but Mika catches your elbow.

Yuta turns at the sound of you wincing. He's halfway back to you before Mika raises her hand. “She’s fine.”

His eyes move over you anyway. You get the strange feeling that he doesn't believe her.

“I’m fine, really.” you say. 

He nods, but the worried crease between his eyebrows stays on his face. Then he keeps walking toward the closest room.

The east wing is a mess, but everyone is alive. Most of the residents never saw anything clearly. Several of them described nightmares even though they insist they were awake. One says the walls were breathing. Another claims there was someone crawling above the ceiling tiles, though he can't remember what they looked like.

Takeda-san is found under his blanket, refusing to come out because he heard his wife calling from the hallway. His wife has been dead for nine years. Tanabe-san says the automatic fire doors sealed the west wing away from the rest of the building. Her mobile phone lost service at the same time as the landline. Fujimoto-san has a bruise across one hand from gripping his walker too tightly. Saitō-san’s oxygen level is normal despite her repeated insistence that death had been sitting outside her window. But luckily, no one is seriously injured.

You count every resident twice, then a third time, just to be sure. Only after the last room has been checked do you notice that Yuta is standing near the nurses’ station, watching you. He waits until Mika and the others were busy getting the residents back in their rooms before approaching you. 

“You could see them,” he says quietly.

You look toward Mika. She's helping Saitō-san back into bed and arguing with her about whether the window needs to be boarded shut immediately.

“Those things?”

Yuta nods.

“What were they?”

His gaze flicks toward the others again. “Not here.” The answer is gentle, but firm.

You fold your arms, then regret it when your shoulder shoots pain down your arm again. “You told her there was a disturbance.”

“There was.”

“That’s not an explanation.”

“No.” His mouth pulls into the smallest, apologetic frown. “But explaining it to everyone would create more problems than it solves.”

“You’re going to explain it to me.”

“Yes.”

The sudden answer surprises you. Yuta looks toward the dark windows at the end of the hall, then back at you. “Because I don’t think they were here for the residents.”

A cold feeling settles in your stomach. “What does that mean?”

His tired eyes stay on yours. “I think they followed you.”

When you finally return to the nurses' station, Yuta is crouched near the entrance to the east wing with two fingers resting on the floor and his eyes closed.

“What are you doing?”

His eyes open. “Checking what they left behind.”

“What did they leave?”

“Residual cursed energy.”

You lean against the desk because standing without support is becoming hard to do. “You keep saying things that don't actually mean anything.”

“I know.”

He stands up and the movement is too quick. He sways slightly. You notice the dark stain spreading under the torn sleeve of his jacket.

“You’re bleeding.”

He glances down. “A little.”

“You said the black stuff disappeared.”

“That wasn’t mine.”

“So this is?”

“Yes.”

“Sit.”

“I’m okay.”

“That was not a suggestion.”

Yuta sits in the chair next to the nurses' station. You get the first-aid kit and bend down to inspect his injury. The cut is long but shallow, running across his upper arm.

“You call this a little?”

“It isn’t deep.”

“It’s at least ten centimeters.”

“Length doesn’t always indicate severity.”

“Don't argue with the person holding antiseptic.”

Yuta looks at the bottle in your hand. “That will sting.”

“You had a monster try to bite your head off.”

“That doesn’t mean I like antiseptic.”

He grimaces slightly when he says it, like he knows how absurd the complaint sounds. You laugh before you can stop yourself.

Yuta looks at you, then smiles a little too. “What?”

“Nothing.” You wet the gauze. “I just didn’t expect that to be the thing you complained about.”

“It stings.”

“You fought three monsters.”

“Both things can be bad.”

You press the pad against his arm and his shoulder jerks. You look up. Yuta stares determinedly at the opposite wall.

“Didn’t hurt?”

“No.”

“Yuta.”

“Okay maybe it did.”

“There we go.”

He lets out a quiet laugh. You glance down at his torn jacket sleeve. There are a few older scars along his arm, pale and thin, with a couple larger ones disappearing under his sleeve. You don’t ask about them. You just finish cleaning the cut.

Yuta watches your hands while you clean the cut. "You work here full-time?"

"Mostly nights."

His brow furrows slightly. "How often?"

"Three nights a week usually. Sometimes more if someone calls out."

"That's a lot of nights."

"It pays better than days." You finish with the cut and reach for the gauze. "Plus the residents sleep most of it, so it's quieter."

He's quiet for a moment, watching you tape the bandage down. "How old are you?"

The question comes out careful, like he's genuinely asking rather than making conversation.

"Nineteen."

He looks up sharply. "You're nineteen?"

"You say that like you're forty."

"I'm twenty-one."

"Exactly."

You lower his sleeve carefully. He helps you instead of just sitting there while you do everything for him, and the small act makes you like him more than you probably should after only one night.

Across the room, Mika is talking to the director on the phone while Tanabe-san tries to describe the damage on an incident form without writing invisible monster attack. The residents are safe. That should make you feel better. Instead, you keep looking toward the east corridor. 

Yuta notices and follows your gaze toward the east corridor. "I don't think that was all of them."

"That's reassuring."

"Sorry."

You look at him. "You really do apologize every time you breathe."

A faint smile touches his mouth. “I’ve been told that.”

“By everyone?”

“Almost everyone.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“For them or me?”

You smile despite yourself. “Both.”

This time, he smiles back without trying to hide it.

Once the residents are settled back in their rooms and the immediate panic is gone, Yuta moves near the darkened entrance and takes out his phone.

He keeps his voice low, but the building is so quiet now that you catch pieces of it anyway. 

“There were several… Yes, all in the same wing.”

There’s a pause as he listens to the person on the other end. 

“No. Only one civilian could see them clearly.”

His eyes move to you. You pretend to be concentrating on paperwork in front of you. 

“I think they were following her.”

Your pen stops moving. Yuta turns slightly away, but not before you can see the tension in his face. 

“No, I’m not bringing her there without explaining it first.”

There’s another pause.

“I know.”

Whatever the person on the other end says makes his expression harden.

"No. I'm not taking her anywhere until I've explained what's happening and asked what she wants to do."

You look up fully now.

Yuta catches you listening. He doesn't look embarrassed or irritated. He just tells the person on the phone, "I'll call again after I talk to her," and hangs up.

“Who was that?”

“My former teacher.”

“Does he normally suggest relocating strangers?”

“Yes.” 

You laugh again, from the insanity of that statement, or maybe it’s the lack of sleep. Maybe the adrenaline crash. Probably all of those things. 

Yuta’s mouth twitches into a small smile. “He means well.”

“That wasn’t convincing.”

“No.”

He comes back toward you, stopping far enough away that you don’t feel crowded.

“He thinks you should stay somewhere protected tonight.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think you should know what your options are before anyone decides for you.”

You look down at the unfinished form.

“My apartment.”

“You want to go home?”

“Yeah… I do.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not going to tell me it’s not safe?”

“I’ll check it first.”

You look at the torn jacket, the grime still streaked across his face, the sword at his hip. He looks like hell, and bringing him home should feel like a terrible idea. But it doesn’t. 

"You can check it," you say. "I'm not agreeing to go anywhere else if you don't like it though."

“That’s fine.”

“That’s fine?”

Yuta glances toward your unfinished paperwork. “I don’t think arguing with you would work.”

“No. It wouldn’t.”

A small smile finally breaks across his face. It changes him more than you expect.

By the time you finish the last of your charting, it's almost four in the morning. Mika tries to convince you to stay until morning. You tell her absolutely not.

She then tries to convince you to go to the hospital instead of going home. You tell her absolutely not to that too.

Then she notices Yuta waiting near the front doors and gives you a look you know well enough to immediately resent.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“I was going to say you shouldn’t drive.”

You look down at yourself.

Your hip hurts. Your shoulder hurts. There’s dried blood on the knee of your scrub pants, and somewhere during the night you lost one of the little clips you’d put in your hair before work. Maybe she’s right. 

“I can drive her.” Yuta says. 

You both look at him. He bows his head and blushes slightly under the sudden attention. “If that’s okay.”

Mika looks between the two of you.

You point at her. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

“I’m thinking you should text me when you get home.”

“I will.”

She hugs you before you can stop her. You make an annoyed noise but hug her back anyway.

“Call if anything happens,” she says quietly.

“I will.”

“And if you see another—” She stops, and you both glance toward Yuta.

“Disturbance,” you say.

Mika looks deeply unimpressed with the word. “Right. One of those.”

“I’ll call.”

She finally lets you go.

Outside, the parking lot is almost completely empty. Yuta leads you toward a dark car parked near the far end, and you stop when he reaches for the passenger door.

“You have a car?”

He looks at you. “Yes.”

“I don’t know why that’s surprising.”

“I don’t either.”

“I think the sword threw me off.”

He glances down at it.

“You don’t usually see someone carrying one and think they probably have a valid driver’s license.”

That gets another little laugh out of him. “I have a valid license.”

“Good. I would’ve hated to survive all that just to die in a car accident.”

Yuta opens the door for you and you look at him. He looks back at you. 

“Are you always this polite?”

His hand stays on the door. “Is opening a door unusually polite?”

“At two in the morning after getting attacked by monsters? A little.”

He seems to think about that.

Then, “You’re injured.”

“So are you.”

“You were thrown into a wall.”

“You got bitten.”

“It didn’t bite me.”

“It tried.”

“That’s different.”

You climb into the car. “You’re very argumentative for someone who looks so quiet.”

He closes the door, and you catch the smile on his face before he does.

The car is warm.

Almost too warm after the cold night outside, and the second you settle into the seat, exhaustion hits you hard enough that you have to close your eyes for a second.

Yuta gets in next to you and places his sword carefully in the back.

You open one eye. “Does that thing have a seatbelt?”

“No.”

“Seems irresponsible.”

He looks over at you. You manage to keep a straight face for maybe two seconds then laugh. Yuta laughs too. 

Not the tiny polite sound from before. An actual laugh this time, brief and tired, and you smile as you give him your address.

He puts it into his phone.

“You’re twelve minutes away.”

“Eleven if you speed.”

“I’m not speeding.”

“You fight monsters for a living but draw the line at going five over?”

“Yes.”

“That’s disappointing.”

He pulls out of the parking lot, and you rest your head against the seat. There isn’t any traffic this late. Streetlights slide over the windshield one after the other, and you watch closed stores and dark houses pass outside your window.

You watch his reflection in the window for a second. Without the sword in his hand and the torn white jacket catching the light, he looks less like someone who just cut several monsters apart and more like a tired university student driving home too late.

“So.”

Yuta glances at you. “So?”

“Are you always this quiet?”

“I didn’t think you wanted to talk.”

“I don’t know what I want. I got thrown into a wall about an hour ago.”

His eyes flick toward the way you’re holding your shoulder. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

He looks back at the road.

You sigh. “Yes.”

“Your shoulder?”

“And my hip. My back. Probably several other things I haven’t noticed yet.”

“I can help when we get to your apartment.”

“With the first-aid kit?”

“Not exactly.”

You wait for him to explain.

He doesn’t.

“You’re very mysterious for someone who apologizes every five minutes.”

“Sorry.”

You look at him. Yuta realizes what he just did and smiles a little.

“Caught you,” you say.

“You did.”

You settle back into the seat cushion, watching the streetlights pass over his face.

“You look younger when you smile.”

His hands shift on the steering wheel.

“Is that bad?”

“No.”

He glances at you.

You look out the window before he can catch the smile trying to form.

By the time he turns onto your street, the car is quiet again.

Your eyes keep slipping shut between traffic lights, and every time the car goes over a bump, your shoulder stings. 

“Here?” Yuta asks.

You sit up and look through the windshield. “Next building.”

He pulls over in front of the narrow brick apartment building next to the laundromat. You reach for the door, but Yuta is already unfastening his seat belt.

“I’ll check outside first.”

You look at him. “You think they followed us?”

“I don’t know.”

He says it gently, but it wakes you up better than coffee ever could. Yuta gets out before you can argue with him. You watch him cross the sidewalk with one hand resting near the sword on his hip, pausing outside the entrance to look up at the windows.

Your apartment is on the third floor. The curtains are closed, just like you left them.

He stands there for another few seconds before coming back to the car. “I don’t sense anything outside.”

“Outside,” you repeat.

He opens your door.

“You’re really bad at making things sound reassuring.”

“I can check the apartment too.”

“Much better.”

The stairs hurt more than you expected. By the second floor, you’re trying not to limp. By the third, Yuta has slowed down enough that you know he noticed. He doesn’t ask if you need help. He doesn’t reach for you. He just walks slower.

You stop in front of your door and dig through your bag for the keys.

One lock. Then the second. Then the deadbolt. Finally the chain. 

Yuta watches without saying anything. You feel him watching you anyway.

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"Everyone has an opinion about the locks."

"I don't."

You fit the last key into place and try not to think about what you'll say if he asks. Three deadbolts, a chain, a camera pointed at the balcony. There isn't really a normal explanation for any of it.

My ex kept trying to get inside usually kills a conversation pretty quickly.

So does he died trying.

You get the last lock open and glance at him. "Really?"

He shakes his head. "If they make you feel safer, they're doing what they're supposed to."

You pause with your hand still on the door.

No question. No look of pity. Nothing.

"Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing." You push the door open.

Yuta catches it before you can step inside. “Wait here.”

You turn around. “You’re telling me to stand in the hallway outside my own apartment?”

“Just until I check it.”

“How long?”

“Thirty seconds.”

“You said that like you’ve timed this before.”

His ears go a little pink. “Please.”

You step aside with an exaggerated sweep of your arm. “Thirty seconds, Okkotsu.”

“Thank you.”

He disappears inside. Thirty seconds becomes forty, then a full minute. 

“Yuta?”

“I’m okay.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

His head appears around the corner. “Sorry.”

“There it is.”

He vanishes again before you can say anything else. You hear your bedroom door open, then the bathroom. A few seconds later, Yuta comes back, his hand lowering from the sword.

“It’s clear.”

You walk past him. “Fantastic. I officially don’t have monsters in my bedroom.”

“I checked everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”

He pauses. Then his face turns pink. 

“I meant the apartment.”

You start laughing.

“I wasn’t looking through your things.”

“Yuta.”

“I only went into your bedroom because—”

“I’m teasing you.”

He stops and you kick the door shut behind him. He laughs quietly as you turn the deadbolt, then the second lock, then the third and finally the chain.

When you turn back, he’s looking at the door. You wait for him to ask about the overkill on security, but he doesn’t.

“Is there another way in?” he says instead.

“The balcony.”

He checks that too.

The door is locked. The little camera mounted above it is still working. Yuta looks through the narrow gap in the curtains, then rests two fingers against the frame and goes still.

You lean against the wall. “What are you doing?”

“Checking whether anything has been here.”

“And?”

“There’s some residue outside.”

Your stomach tightens. “From tonight?”

“I can’t tell.”

“That’s helpful.”

“Sorry.”

You give him a look.

His mouth twitches. “Right.”

He turns back toward you, and his eyes drop to the way you’re standing. “You’re putting all your weight on one side.”

“I’m comfortable.”

“You’re limping.”

“I’m fine.”

Yuta looks toward the couch. “Sit down.”

There’s no real authority in his voice, but somehow you sit anyway. Mostly because your hip hurts.

Yuta sets his sword against the wall and kneels in front of you.

The position brings him close enough that you can see the dried black stains along his jaw and the darker circles under his eyes. His hair is still damp near his temples. He looks exhausted.

He also looks unfairly pretty for someone who spent the night cutting monsters apart. That feels inappropriate to notice, but you notice it anyway.

“Where does it hurt most?” he asks.

“My shoulder.”

He lifts one hand, then stops before touching you. “Can I?”

You nod.

His fingers settle lightly against the top of your arm. His hands are warm. That’s the first thing you notice. The second is how careful they are.

You watched those same hands hold a sword without shaking. You watched him cut through something twice his size like it weighed nothing.

Now his fingertips barely press into your skin. “Here?”

“A little lower.”

He moves his hand and you flinch.

Yuta’s brow pulls together. “There?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you lift it?”

You try, but pain shoots down your arm before you get it halfway up, and then your shoulder drops.

Yuta catches your elbow immediately. The movement is quick and easy. He is much stronger than he looks, and a lot faster. Not that you thought he was weak. You watched him fight. You know exactly what he can do.

But, there’s something about having his hand close around your arm and hold it like it weighs nothing that makes your stomach do something stupid.

“Don’t force it,” he says.

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“You’re very critical in other people’s homes.”

He almost smiles but then his attention goes back to your shoulder.

“I can heal this.”

“With the mysterious thing you mentioned in the car?”

“Reverse cursed technique.”

“That sounds made up.”

"It isn't."

"Convenient."

You tug the collar of your scrub top aside enough to expose your shoulder. Yuta looks away while you do it.

"Okay," you say.

He looks back and places his palm against your bare skin.

The warmth comes first. It isn't just from his hand. There's something under it, slow and deep, sinking into the muscle like warm water. The ache in your shoulder starts to loosen.

You inhale.

Yuta looks up immediately. "Does it hurt?"

"No."

His voice is low enough that you feel it more than hear it. "Try to relax."

You close your eyes.

The apartment is quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator and the traffic from the street below. Yuta's hand stays steady against your shoulder, warm and broad enough to cover most of the bruised area.

"What exactly were those things?" you ask.

"Curses."

You open one eye. "That doesn't explain anything."

"No."

His thumb moves slightly against your skin as the warmth spreads farther down your arm.

"They're created from cursed energy. Mostly negative emotions. Fear, anger, grief. People produce it without knowing, and sometimes it builds up until it becomes something like what you saw tonight."

You close your eye again. "So they're ghosts."

"Not exactly."

"Demons?"

"No."

"Monsters."

A small pause. "Sort of."

"That's not helpful."

"I know."

"And most people can't see them?"

"No."

"But I could."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Yuta doesn't answer immediately.

The heat under his palm moves deeper into your shoulder. The pain that had been sitting there since the hallway starts to fade until you can barely feel it.

"I don't know yet," he says. "You might be more sensitive to cursed energy than most people. Or what happened tonight could have made them visible to you."

"That happens?"

"Sometimes, when someone is in danger."

"That's comforting."

His fingers flex lightly against you. "I don't want to tell you something is true when I'm not sure."

You like that answer more than you want to admit.

You open your eyes. Yuta is looking down at his hand, concentrating. His lashes cast shadows against the dark circles under his eyes. There's a small crease between his brows.

"You've been seeing them your whole life?" you ask.

"Mostly."

"And you just… do this?"

"Do what?"

"Drive around at two in the morning, heal strangers and cut monsters in half."

"Not every night."

You smile and his mouth moves too. 

"Sometimes I get home earlier."

"You're funny when you're tired."

"I don't think I'm funny."

"That's probably why."

He looks up at you and you're suddenly aware of how close he is again. His knee is almost touching yours. One hand is still warm against your bare shoulder, the other resting lightly near your elbow.

His eyes move over your face. "Better?"

His gaze drops briefly, not to your shoulder, but to your mouth. Your lips part before you realize it. He looks away first.

"Try moving it."

You lift your arm. No pain. You rotate your shoulder, testing it. Nothing.

You stare at your arm, then at him. "That's insane."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should."

Yuta slowly takes his hand away. The loss of his warmth is immediate, so much so that you almost ask him to put it back. But that's crazy so instead, you shift on the couch and rub your hip.

His eyes follow the movement. "That too?"

"It's fine."

"You said that about your shoulder."

"And look how well that worked out."

Yuta moves closer, still kneeling. "Can I?"

You nod.

His hand settles against the outside of your hip through your scrubs. Even through the fabric, you feel the warmth of his palm. His other hand rests lightly on your knee to steady you as he leans in.

The warmth spreads slower this time, sinking through the bruise and into the deep ache under it. Yuta keeps explaining in that same low voice.

Cursed energy.

Sorcerers.

Barriers.

Why he hadn't explained any of it in front of Mika.

"She wouldn't have believed me," he says.

"She saw an IV pole bend in half."

"She might've believed something happened. That isn't the same as needing to know everything."

"And I do?"

"Yes."

The answer comes without hesitation. You open your eyes. Yuta's head is bowed slightly, his hand still warm on your hip. His other hand rests on your knee, light enough that it shouldn’t matter. But it does.

You draw in a slower breath and close your eyes before he notices. "Because they followed me."

His fingers stop for half a second. "I think so."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"That seems to be happening a lot tonight."

"I know."

You look down at him. He looks tired enough that he could probably fall asleep sitting on the floor. His jacket is torn. There's dried blood on him. He came straight from fighting something else, found you in a hallway, and somehow still has enough strength left to put your body back together.

Somewhere between the warmth of his hand and his quiet explanation, the tightness in your chest starts to ease. You haven't felt this calm in your apartment in months, which makes no sense. You've known him for a few hours, and somehow his presence is doing more for you than the locks, the camera, or the chair you sometimes wedge under the front door.

“There,” he says quietly. 

His hand leaves your hip. You open your eyes again, and he’s still very close. Close enough that the room feels smaller when he looks up at you.

For a second, neither of you moves. Then Yuta sits back on his heels. “I’m going to put a barrier around the apartment.”

“You can do that too?”

“Yes.”

“You’re annoyingly useful.”

A small smile appears. “I’ve been told that.”

He stands and picks up his sword. You watch him move around the apartment, touching the windows, the balcony door and finally the wall beside the front entrance. You can’t see anything happening, but the air changes. There’s a faint pressure in your ears, like the moment before a storm breaks.

Yuta closes his eyes for several seconds, then opens them.

“That should keep weaker curses out. If something stronger tries to break through, I’ll feel it.”

“From wherever you live?”

“Yes.”

“That seems invasive.”

“It isn’t.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

He smiles again, but it fades when he looks toward the door. Yuta picks up his sword, then he just stands there. He checks the lock once, even though you already locked it. Then he looks toward the balcony and back at you. “You should try to sleep.”

“You too.”

“I will.”

You watch him hesitate with one hand near the doorknob.

“If anything feels wrong, call me.”

“Okay.”

“Anything.”

“I heard you.”

“If you see something outside the window—”

“Yuta.”

He stops.

“I’ll call.”

He nods, but still doesn’t open the door. You think he might ask to stay before you can say something. But then his hand reaches for the chain and your stomach drops.

It happens so fast that you feel stupid for it. You look toward the dark hallway leading to your bedroom. 

For one second, it isn't your apartment. It's the residence again and something is moving above the ceiling tiles, dragging itself around the corner, whispering your name.

"Um… Yuta?"

He turns immediately. "Yeah?"

Your voice comes out softer than you mean it to. "Can you…" You look down at your hands. “… Can you stay tonight?"

"I'll stay."

You look up. He already lowered his hand from the chain, like there had never been another possible answer.

You sit up straighter almost immediately, the words rushing out now that you said it.

"I mean, obviously you can stay on the couch. Or you can take my bed if you want and I'll sleep out here. I don't care. I just don't really want to…" Your eyes move toward the hallway again. "Deal with those things alone if they come back."

"You don't have to give me your bed," he says.

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"The couch is terrible."

"I've slept in worse places."

"That sounds depressing."

"It probably is."

You smile faintly. You're still scared, but not as much as you would have been if he left.

Yuta notices. "You're safe," he says.

You glance toward the barrier he put around the apartment. "Because of that?”

His eyes stay on yours. "Because I'm here."

The answer is quiet. Like staying is the simplest thing in the world. Your heart flutters in your chest. 

"Okay," you say.

Yuta smiles and it's soft and tired. You look away before you start smiling too much.

"I still need a shower."

His eyes immediately move to the opposite wall.

You laugh under your breath. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You're doing that thing."

"What thing?"

"The one where you look like I said something terrifying."

"I don't."

"You do."

A little pink reaches his ears again. You stand up, testing your hip, and again the pain is gone.

"That's still ridiculous, by the way."

"The healing?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad it worked."

You take a few steps toward the hall, then look back. Yuta is already settling his sword next to the couch, like he belongs there.

"And Yuta?"

He looks up.

"I'm glad you're staying."

"Me too."

You disappear into the bedroom before he can see how much that answer affects you.

But when you close the bathroom door behind you, you don't lock it.

next: Day Two → link will update once posted!

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[vienssunshine]

Beg me please to let you in me

pairing: Yuuta Okkotsu x fem!reader nsfw: dom!reader, sub!Yuuta word count: 1.6k author's note: last work from the poll! the title from the song "vegas" by joseline hernandez. description: after a long mission, all Yuuta wants is you.

Yuuta is assigned harder and longer missions due to his position as the second strongest sorcerer of the modern age. Though he lives to protect others from curses, he hates to be sent away, especially for extended periods of time, because it keeps him away from you. And god does he miss you and your touch.

After a three-week mission–or a three week deprivation–it doesn’t take long for Yuuta to find your room. You let him in when he knocks on your door all pent-up and needy, but decide to not give him what he wants, at least not before teasing him a bit.

Propped up on some pillows against the headboard of your bed, you grin down at the sorcerer nestled between your thighs. Yuuta is sloppily licking his tongue over your glistening cunt, whining as he tries to cope with the aching erection straining through his pants. His desire is so powerful it’s painful, but you won’t let him touch himself, only permitting him to eat you out, knowing it turns him on even more. 

“Please,” Yuuta whimpers, looking up from your folds. The lower half of his face is shining from your wetness as he stares up at you, sad eyes glazed over with lust. “Please let me inside you.” 

You lift your chin up, enjoying the pleading expression spread across his flushed face. God, he needs you. All the more reason to make him wait. “I don’t think you’re asking nicely enough.”

Your response pulls a frustrated whine from Yuuta’s throat, but you have none of it, simply telling him to show you how much he wants it while pushing his face back down to your wet cunt. 

He moans as he opens his mouth to lick and suck at your hot flesh. It’s difficult for him to reconcile how having his mouth against your cunt, feeling you quake and jolt, feels so good and how, at the same time, it’s making his rock-hard erection ache more and more every second it remains neglected. 

Your fingers knot into his black hair as he worships your wet folds with his tongue and mouth, and the sensation pulls a pretty whine from his throat. 

“Mmph-s’good...need you-”

His hands tighten around your thighs and he presses his eyes shut, enduring the hot lust rolling through his poor body. It’s been so long since he’s seen you, and you’re so pretty, and the noises you make when he licks you—he can’t take it anymore. 

Yuuta begins to buck his hips against the mattress, just desperate to relieve some of the ache.

It takes you a second to notice—Yuuta is very good with his tongue, especially when pushed to his breaking point—but when you do, you move back and place your foot against his shoulder, pushing him away from you.

“M’sorry,” he says, breathing heavily, “You’re just so…it’s been so long…” His head drops down. He can’t even function anymore; the lust overtaking him has rendered his body and mind useless. All he can do is beg for you to make him feel better.

It may be time to show him some mercy. 

You tilt your head as you knead your foot into the strong muscle of his shoulder. “Sounds like you want me to take care of you.”

He looks back up at you, desperation radiating off of his shaking body. “Please fuck me,” Yuuta whispers. He presses a kiss to the ankle near his face. “Please.”

You suppose he’s earned it. Aside from that little slip-up—pleasuring himself without permission—he’s been so good. And he worked so hard on his mission. It’s funny how you pretend the fact that your hole is crying out to be filled by him isn’t a factor in your decision. 

Dropping your foot from his shoulder, you lean forward to cup Yuuta's face. Of course he melts into your touch, pressing his warm cheek into the palm of your hand—so needy for the slightest show of affection. He’s begun to rut into the mattress once more, pressing the bulge in his underwear to the firm but soft surface, desperate for friction that can offer any small bit of relief from his overwhelming desire. You’ll let him get away with it this time. 

You use your hand on his face to guide him forward as you lean back, bringing him on top of you until you feel the erection straining through his briefs press against your wet cunt. His gasp from the contact is silenced when you pull him into a messy kiss.

Your grip on his jaw keeps his face to yours as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He moans, and your other hand travels down to his clothed length, beginning to gently stroke it. His underwear is wet with precum. 

“Please, I can’t-I can’t take it anymore-”

“You’re doing great, Yuuta,” you purr, “I’m gonna make you feel better, okay?”

He exhales, pained. “Okay,” he chokes out. 

“Now take these off,” you say, tugging at his waistband. 

He sits back and they’re clumsily pulled off before you can blink. You’re greeted with his fully erect dick with a reddened tip that’s leaking precum. His arousal looks painful, no wonder he was so quick to beg you for help. 

You look up to Yuuta to see a deep blush burning on his cheeks. He brings his hands up to cover his face. 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Yuuta,” you say, tugging at his forearms,  “C’mon, let me see your pretty face.” 

Though it takes him a second, he listens, dropping his hands down into his lap. “So much better,” you say, running your fingers through his black hair, his eyes fluttering at the sensation. Then you ease him back on top of you and wrap your hand around his length—it’s throbbing underneath your touch—and align it with your wet hole. He squirms, having to fight against the strong urge his body has to enter you immediately.

“Can…can I…?” Yuuta asks. It’s impressive he can form a question, he’s barely able to think straight.

“You can put it inside,” you respond, smiling up at the nervous boy. 

He takes a deep breath before bringing his hips forward and finally, finally pushing himself inside of you. Your entrance offers little resistance, wetness slicking your insides so Yuuta’s full length slips into you with only one thrust. His breath hitches and the arms holding him up above you shake, almost giving out at the blissful sensation. 

“Feeling better?” you ask, eyes roaming over his expression. His face is contorted in pleasure, eyebrows pressed together and jaw clenched after only one stroke. 

“Feels…so good.” He speaks carefully, as if even just describing the sensation could make him cum. He doesn't move after he realizes how close he already is, trying to regain control over himself. Only, you want to keep feeling him. 

“You can move, y’know,” you tease. 

“I know…just need a second,” he says. 

He exhales sharply as he brings his hips back, dragging his length through your gummy walls and then pushing into them once more. His fingers tighten around the sheets by your head, his hands planted on either side of you, his face hovering above yours. 

Typically, you like to ride him, to pin him down with your hips and have him writhe in pleasure underneath you as you bounce up and down on him. But you might like this even more, watching how he winces and whimpers when he’s the one moving himself inside of you, the tight hug of your walls just too much.

It might have been better if you were the one in charge of the pace as, though he's moving now, he's slow and hesitant, taking frequent pauses. Even after you’ve teased him so much despite him already being so pent-up from his mission, he wants to do the impossible and last longer for you.

“It’s okay, Yuuta,” you say, brushing some hair out of his face, “I know you want to cum.”

“But-” he protests until he cuts himself off with a gasp when you grab his hips, encouraging him to thrust in and out of you more quickly. 

“You’ve been so good,” you tell him, “Makin’ me feel so good…I think you deserve a reward.”

He groans his response, the sound thickly coated with arousal. He has been so good, hasn’t he? He does deserve a reward. Yuuta buries his face into your neck, wrapping his arms around your body as he humps himself into you.

You gasp, he’s being rougher now, plunging his dick in and out of you with a force that contrasts the way he’s whining so sweetly in your ear, occasionally moaning about how much he loves you. Your hands travel up from your hips to rest on his back, pulling him closer into you, wanting to feel him more and deeper. 

“Fuck…love you…s’much.” His words are hard to understand, mostly cut off by moans, but you’re able to make out that he appreciates being back with you. 

His arms cradle your head, fingers tangled in your hair, as he continues to rut into you, chasing the orgasm he’s been so desperately craving all those lonely nights away from you. 

“M’gonna cum, gonna cum deep inside you,” he says, hips losing their rhythm, his neediness fully consuming him as he fucks himself into you.

“Uh huh, cum inside me like a good boy,” you coo into his ear. 

He moans, and you feel his cock twitch inside you, shooting out white ropes of cum. Yuuta whines, continuing to thrust himself into you with a few last uneven strokes. Then, utterly exhausted after his mission and your ruthless teasing, he collapses on top of you, hot pants fanning against your neck.

“Did so good,” you say, stroking his black hair. You know the sensation of cumming can be a lot for him, so you soothe him as best you can as he comes down from such a powerful orgasm.

He melts into you, the full weight of his shaking body on top of yours.

“I’m never going on a mission longer than a week again,” he murmurs into your neck, “Miss you too much.”

[vienssunshine]

show me you're sorry

pairing: Yuta Okkotsu x fem!reader cw: nsfw, like ever so slightly toxic relationship wc: 2.9k author’s note: using ‘Yuta’ instead of ‘Yuuta’ on this one. not certain about the difference. enjoy! description: who knew that watching yuta apologize could be so hot?

“I was just trying to help!” Yuta calls out after you.

You tighten your lips, maintaining your quick retreat back to the Jujutsu High dormitory. So fucking embarrassing.

Yuta calls your name out again, now jogging after you, but you’re already at the building and throwing the door back behind you. Your quick strides cut through the thick summer air stagnant in the hallway, closing in on your room. All you want is the relief of splaying out onto your bed and putting this terrible sister school tournament behind you.

The entry door opens and rapid footsteps approach, but you don't turn around, you’re already at your dorm. You grab the knob.

“Wait!”

You whip yourself into your room, slamming the door hard into its frame and flicking the lock. On the other side, a weight collides with the door.

“I’m sorry, okay?!” he says, out of breath.

“Leave me alone, Yuta!” you shout through the wood.

“I can’t, just—please open the door, we can talk about this.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? So you can say you were just protecting me?”

“I—I know you said you don’t like when I–”

“So how do you not get it?”

“I just—I can’t—”

You stick your finger at the door like you’re telling him off to his face. “I’m fucking trying to prove myself in this tournament and every time I was alone with someone you swooped in and beat the shit out of them. I ended the day with zero points, Yuta.” You hit the door with an open palm.

Yuta grapples for the right thing to say. “I understand that that’s frustrating and I—”

“No, you don’t understand,” you tell him. You turn away from the door and take a deep breath. “You’re already a special grade. You don’t have to prove yourself anymore.” You lean your head back on the door.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the way. It’s my fault. I just—I can’t handle it when you get hurt.” His voice cracks.

You don’t know what to say. You understand where he’s coming from; you would hate to see him get hurt too. At the same time, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer, and you need to risk your body if you’re going to have any case for being promoted to a grade two. You press your lips together and shift your weight.

“I’m really sorry,” he says. There’s a muffled, choked noise from behind the door. You turn towards the sound. Is he…crying?

You push your ear to the door. Yuta continues, “I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I don’t want you”—the words are cut off with what you’re now certain is a sob—“to be mad at me anymore.”

You rest your hand on the knob. Then you turn it and pull the door open.

Yuta brings his gaze up from the ground. His puppy-dog eyes are glossy and the corners of his mouth are pulled down into a quivering frown.

“Yuta…”

He falls to his knees before you. “Please forgive me,” he says, hanging his head.

Your eyes widen. “Yuta, get up,” you urge, “Yuta!”

“I can’t. I need you to know how sorry I am,” he says. He leans forward, now fully prostrating himself at your feet.

You can’t believe this is happening. A special grade sorcerer, one powerful enough to rival Satoru Gojo, is down on his knees with tears in his eyes, begging for your forgiveness.

The way he’s yielding himself completely and utterly to your will stirs a confusing churn of emotion in your stomach—anger, regret, and, strangely, desire. This pathetic display from such a strong man must’ve lit a fire deep within you; its warmth is streaming up your sides.

“Look up at me,” you say, breathless.

He does, a fresh new tear rolling down his cheek.

You reach your hand out to cup his chin, marveling at the flush the emotion has brought to his face. He looks so pretty right now.

His hand encircles your wrist. “I’m really, really sorry,” he says, moving your hand up so he can place a gentle kiss on it.

“So you’ve said,” you respond, “Do you mean it?”

“Yes.” His hand tightens around yours. “Please, I’ll do anything to prove it to you.”

You release yourself from his grip and walk into your room. “Stand up and come inside.”

After a slight hesitation, he follows you in. You keep your back to him as you toss your uniform top onto your desk chair, leaving you in your sports bra.

You watch Yuta’s eyes run over your exposed back. He can’t pull his gaze away when he asks, “What…what are you doing?”

“Nothing we haven’t done before.” You smile. “Close the door, Yuta.”

“O-okay.” He takes a step back, creaking the door shut. He reaches his hand to the knob before stopping himself, looking to you for permission.

“And lock it,” you confirm.

When he does, you turn to him, allowing him to see the front of you without a top. His shocked, tear-stained face is so cute.

“Take off my pants, Yuta,” you say. He looks into your eyes, trying to figure out what he’s missing in this scenario. It doesn’t make sense, you were just so angry. It doesn’t make sense to you either, but all you know is that when he gets down on one knee to unzip your uniform pants, desire thuds through your bloodstream.

You step out of the pants and, now in your underwear, sit on the edge of the bed. Yuta’s still kneeling on the floor, waiting for your next direction.

You push yourself back so you’re leaning against the wall alongside your bed. “Come sit with me,” you say, patting the space next to you.

He stands, hovering over the edge of the bed. “Is this…this is what you want?”

“I want you to listen to me,” you say, tilting your head.

He nods quickly and clumsily loads himself onto the bed next to you. You smile, indulging in his bewilderment as you straddle yourself over his lap.

He’s stiff in the new position, so you run your fingers over his triceps and, at the bend of his elbow, begin lifting his forearms up, settling his hands on your waist. Then your hands go to his face, soothing him with soft strokes along his skin, wiping away tear streaks.

“So much better,” you hum.

“I–I hope so,” he says with a nervous smile, “You’re so–you’re so warm.”

“Uh huh,” you say, pushing a strand of black hair from his face. You feel it too, all the blood rushing through your core, and now it’s starting to throb.

“Y’know,”—you move closer and the flush on his face deepens—“I think it’s been way too long since you last went down on me, Yuta.”

“It’s only been—”

You put a finger over his lips and he stops. “Good,” you say, replacing your finger with your thumb, stroking his soft bottom lip. “You want to make it up to me?”

His hands tighten around your waist. “Yes, please, anything.”

“Then see this as a chance to make it up to me, ‘kay?”

Thankfully, he gets the message, moving his face forward and pressing his lips to yours. You hum, satisfied, and tilt your head further to the side, returning his kiss.

Your hands crawl up from his face and rake through his dark hair, earning you a sound that’s muffled by your lips. You take the opportunity to deepen this kiss, putting one hand to his jaw and licking your tongue into his mouth. Yuta melts into it, circling his arms around your back and pulling your chest into his.

“Fuck, Yuta,” you say into his mouth before he pushes his tongue into yours. You let him in, indulging in the hot, open-mouthed kisses he is tipping your head back for. He’s never kissed so intensely, always acting with restraint, like he was going to hurt you. You reward his efforts by grinding down into his lap, feeling the erection pushing through his pants more fully.

You gasp as he lifts you up and flips you so your back is pressed into the mattress.

“Yuta!” you laugh before he kisses you again.

“Wanna do a good job for you,” he says in between licks and kisses, “Wanna earn your forgiveness.”

He moves to your neck, fully aware of your weak spots. You tip your head back and he tucks himself in, his warm breath brushing against your skin as he kisses it.

Your hips angle up and into him. “Fuck, that feels good,” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut. He whines into your neck and doubles his efforts, licking and sucking along the side of it, savoring every reaction he gets out of you.

You squirm underneath him, the electric sensation of his lips on your throat making you burn up with desire. Yuta shifts his weight further onto you, pinning you in place with his heavy body.

His free hand runs along the inside of your thigh, awakening the nerves along the skin. You drop your legs further open, allowing his hand closer to your heat. He presses two fingers to your wet panties and whines into your mouth.

“You’re already so…” He runs his fingers over the dampened fabric, brushing over the outline of your vulva in the underwear.

“Take them off,” you say, pushing your hips upwards so Yuta can pull the panties down off of your legs. His eyes widen at the unobstructed view of you.

“Wow,” he breathes before reaching forward and running his index and pointer finger along your warm folds. You sigh at the gentle touch.

“You’re so…” he gasps, “so perfect.” He looks down at the slick gathered on his two fingers. “I want to show you I deserve it.” His eyes flick up to you. “I’m going to do my best, okay?”

You chuckle; it’s something he’d say before sparring, but your amusement is extinguished the moment he settles between your legs. His hot breath fans over your glistening mess. Your hips shift, even just a subtle sensation has your nerves alight. Then he licks into you, warm and wet.

Your eyebrows knit together. The pleasure is gentle, soothing, like it usually is. You hum, relaxing back onto the mattress and into your body, focusing on the buzz and tingle from each one of his licks.

Yuta runs his palms up and down the inside of your open thighs, squeezing and pressing his fingers into the flesh. “You taste so good, feel so good,” he says.

You moan back as he moves his attention to your clit, licking and sucking on it. Your knees bend at the direct stimulation and your hole begins to pulse, desperate for attention.

“I–,” he mumbles into you, before a long drag of his tongue up your vulva, “Can I…”

“Speak up, Yuta,” you say, with heavy breath.

His right hand moves from your thigh closer to his mouth. “Can I add a finger too? I know you like it when I do.”

“That would be perfect,” you respond. So he does listen sometimes.

Yuta pulls the cuff of his sleeve up to elbow, unveiling the lean muscle of his forearm. Then he brings his hand in between your legs, circling the entrance of your vagina with his pointer finger. Your hole clenches, impatient, but he doesn’t make you wait long, pushing the tip of his finger past the ring of muscle.

“Mm–yeah–” you say.

He gently begins to work himself deeper into you, your muscles accommodating his strong finger until he’s fully seated inside. The added pressure makes you sigh in delight. Then, he starts moving, slowly pumping his finger all the way in, and then all the way out of you. After a few thrusts, he adds a slight curl to the movement, grazing your g-spot. It’s nice, but, like all the other times, the snail-pace in which he’s moving constructs a ceiling to your pleasure.

“Is this okay?” he asks, kissing your inner thigh.

“It’s okay, Yuta,” you say, closing your eyes, “I need you to go a little harder for me though, remember?”

He slows his movements even more. “I just–it won’t hurt, right? I know I don’t look strong but–”

“Yuta, it’s okay. I’ll tell you if it does.”

He’s still for a moment, but then his left hand goes to your hip, holding onto you before he resumes thrusting, pushing in faster and deeper now. You part your lips, adjusting. His fingertips are hitting at a new depth, stimulating your g-spot and at a pace where each pound of pleasure builds on top of the one previous.

“There you go,” you say, hands grabbing into your sheets, searching for stability.

You can feel his gaze on you, scanning for any discomfort. “This is good?” he asks, meek.

You nod your head into the mattress. “Uh huh,” you say, “So good, Yuta. You’re such a good listener.”

Yuta shudders. Hearing you speak nicely to him is doing a lot more after you being so upset with him.

“Can you curl your finger too?” you ask, voice shaky, “Like before?”

“Okay, how’s this?”

Now his finger isn’t brushing against your g-spot, it’s directly pressing into it with every thrust of his hand. The change has your jaw going slack, labored breaths being pushed from your lungs with each rock of your body.

“Does it feel good?” Yuta asks, his gaze fixated on you. His lips are parted and a deep red flush is warming his cheeks and nose.

“Yes, Yuta,” you gasp, twisting the sheets in your grip. He’s doing so well at following directions that it gives you the confidence to ask: “Can you add one more?”

There’s much less pushback about how he could accidentally hurt you and how you're so delicate and this and that. This time, he’s entirely quiet aside from his breathing, which has gotten heavier. He slips his index finger in and watches you react to the stretch. Your eyebrows push together and your back comes up off the mattress.

Giving you little time to adjust, Yuta begins to pump both fingers. “You look so–”

Your moan cuts him off as you throw your head back. He’s never used two fingers, let alone at this pace. And entirely uncharacteristicly, he chooses to add to the overwhelm by dipping his head back down and licking your clit. You whine his name and try to close your legs, to force out the double stimulation, but, for the first time, he resists you, holding you in place.

“Ahh—”

Yuta whimpers into your mound. “It feels so good to see you like this,” he says. Then his mouth returns to your folds, licking and sucking on the wet mess.

You rake your hand down your chest until you find his hair, knitting your fingers through it. He groans at the sensation of your fingernails on his scalp.

“Just like that,” you say, eyes pressed shut. You’re holding onto his hair and the sheets for dear life, each pump of his fingers is pushing pleasure all throughout your core.

A fierce orgasm is building up within you. It grows stronger with every command Yuta’s touch issues on your muscles and flesh.

“Ahh–oh my god–it’s so much–too much.” You tighten your hold on his hair.

“Please don’t make me stop,” he says, maintaining the same, now devastating pace. “You promised you could take this.”

“I can, I can,” you respond, crinkling your eyes shut, “I’m just gonna–”

“I need you to know how special you are to me,” Yuta says between licks, “I want to make you feel so good you can’t think of anything else.”

“Ohmygod Yuta,” you cry out. Your whole body is tense, being flooded by pleasure as he slams in and out of you. “Just a little more and I’ll–”

“Please,” he moans, “I want it so bad, please come for me.”

He circles his tongue around your clit, licking and pressing on it harder than he ever has before. The pressure is frighteningly pleasureable, it’s only a matter of time until–

“Fuck,” you get out, your orgasm rolling into you like a ten foot wave. Your canal contracts violently around Yuta’s fingers, each clench sending pleasure shooting through your body.

Your breaths are loud, catching every time another one of Yuta’s thrusts pushes through your body. You call out his name, over and over, and he melts underneath you, licking and sucking your clit until your orgasm resolves.

“Ahh, oh my–I–” You can’t get the words out, chest heaving and hormones crashing through you. Your body goes weak, flattening you out on the mattress.

Yuta sits up and slowly pulls his fingers out of you. Copious amounts of slick pour out after his fingers. He sucks them clean before moving to the side of you, encircling his arms around you and leaning your head into his chest.

You try to catch your breath and come back to reality as he cradles you. There’s so much running through your head that you can’t yet make sense of.

“Yuta, that—” you try, but it’s too much energy to finish the sentence. You’ve been running around all day in the sister tournament, and now you’re on the other side of the most intense orgasm Yuta’s ever given you.

Your eyelids lower and there’s little you can do to stop them. But before you fall asleep, you make sure to get out: “I forgive you, Yuta.”

Yuta smooths the hair on top of your head. “Thank you.”

author's note: thank you so much for reading!!

[snowiko]

something about serial killer yuuta. he’s got the soggiest dark eyes, gentlest smile, and a horrific intuition that’s rubbed you wrong since you first met him.

so you make a joke of it, between saké, “you seem like someone who’d moonlight as a killer.”

and he only smiles faintly, gaze cast aside. so flustered, you think, so shy, you almost want to apologize for it.

[fukusan267]

The Flowers I Wish I Gave You

- Yuta Okkotsu x Non-Sorcerer!Reader

Yuta Okkotsu has been buying flowers from a cute flower shop for Rika. But recently, he hasn’t only gone there to buy some new bouquets…

WARNING!! Includes: Yuta x Rika, lots of yearning, very fluff~ a little one sided maybe… it’s my first fic pls be kind… :,)

“That would be 450 yen!” With a bright smile, you handed him the colorful bouquet of flowers.

“Thank you!” Yuta replied, slightly bowing out of the habit of being too polite.

His friends who were waiting outside were starting to grow impatient and called out for him. It was another one of those days where he would get flowers for Rika, but lately, he has been buying flowers more and more often. And lately, his reason to go there wasn’t just to buy flowers anymore.

Yuta left the shop, smiling happily as he approached the other second years.

“You took forever,” Maki remarked, a little bit annoyed by the detour they always had to take after a mission. Whenever they walked past this specific flower shop, he would always excuse himself and run into the cutely decorated shop and walk out with a few flowers. He was lucky that his job as a sorcerer is well paid.

“Salmon,” while Toge agreed with Maki, he curiously leaned forward to take a closer look at the flowers and admire them. It was actually Toge who has been helping Yuta out with keeping the flowers beautiful for as long as possible, but lately he has been getting so much that they are slowly piling up. He has been recommending him to buy flowers that he could plant and have a garden.

“I know, I’m sorry,” nervously, he continued to walk forward and back to the school. His mind, however, was somewhere else. The others immediately noticed. Or more like they have been noticing. Something has been different and his usually stressed expression when entering a shop has been replaced by a nervous and happy one. And whenever he walked out, he would have the brightest smile in the world.

It was just admiration and appreciation at first, the way you greeted him when he walked in and the way your beautiful hair falls when you lean forward to grab the flowers. He couldn’t help it, you were beautiful and cute. He had a crush on you.

——————————

“Sorry, I have to–”

“Again?” Maki was never particularly mad, it was just her way of expressing herself and in this moment, she was surprised.

Yuta could only shyly nod as his feet already started facing the shop. Maki proceeded to roll her eyes but used her hand to signal him to just go.

“Don’t take too long!” Maki shouted after him and sighed. They all had slowly figured out what was going on.

“He must have a crush,” Panda remarked, being rather excited about this because he always loved stuff like these, being able to ship two people together.

“Salmon,” Toge said, agreeing with Panda as he glanced over to watch you and Yuta through the shop window. That also drew the attention of the other two who started watching too.

——————————

You were more than happy to see him. You barely knew anything about him, but something about his personality made you think that he is pretty cute. He was also tall and handsome, there was no way you couldn’t steal a glance at him and feel how your cheeks get warm just by watching him admiring your flowers.

“Hello! It’s so nice to see you again, here for flowers again?” you carefully asked and kept your bright smile. Yuta was scratching the back of his head when you saw how he was slightly blushing.

He was preparing his usual sentence that he would say when he entered the shop. One of his hands was holding his sword back that was resting on his back and the other was fidgeting around with his own fingers, an attempt to calm himself down.

“Yes, could you put a bouquet together for me? It’s for my lover.”

There it was again, the mention of his “lover”. Whenever you would ask him what he is buying these flowers for, he would reply with “his partner” or “his lover”, referring to Rika. It was only today where he started to feel some sort of guilt in his chest.

“Of course!” You replied happily, being used to putting together the most beautiful set of flowers for a couple. But this one for him specifically, you weren’t sure what you were feeling. It always felt like he was giving you mixed signs and you didn’t quite know how to deal with them, so you would just go on and do your job without thinking about it too much.

Just what was it, that had him this unsure? Was he betraying Rika by looking at you like that? He was always sure he wouldn’t be able to move on, but what if that had changed? He wanted to get to know you more and he wanted to take you out for dinner. He wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked but most importantly:

He wanted to give you a bouquet of flowers.

“That would be 450 yen,” you said, with the same usual voice you’re used to using when saying the price of your flowers.

“Thank you,” he replied and smiled again. The sweet smile that made your heart jump. It was really unfortunate that he already had someone, or that’s what you thought. You had no idea that his “girlfriend” had died a few years ago and he was just still not over her.

He took the flowers from your hand and hesitated a bit. He was looking down while just staring at your hands that were still holding onto the bouquet. You looked up to see his face, but you weren’t able to read his expression because his long bangs were in the way.

“Sorry… I’m a little all over the place today,” he then explained as he finally took the flowers closer to him. “I wish you a wonderful day!”

You could only bow when you watched him leave, your mind still thinking about what to do about this situation and why your heart was racing.

“Sorry, I took so long,” Yuta said as he joined back his friends who were once again waiting outside.

“You like her, don’t you?” Maki didn’t hold back and asked right away.

“H-huh?” Yuta stuttered. He slowly got it figured out too, but hearing that said out loud caught him off guard.

“You definitely do,” Panda then added and smirked.

“I mean… I guess I kind of…” Yuta started, but he wasn’t able to finish his thought.

“What’s your plan? Are you finally going to ask her out?” Maki then asked again, with no hesitation.

“I… I can’t” Yuta admitted. It wasn’t hard to tell that there is a lot going on in his mind.

“Is it because of Rika?” Panda then asked, putting a hand on his shoulder, an action to show emotional support.

“Of course there is also Rika but in the end, I’m a sorcerer” He then said. The others were surprised to hear that he had more than just Rika as a reason, it showed that he has thought about this a lot. “I wouldn’t want to unnecessarily get her involved in this whole Jujutsu world. It would most likely ruin her life and put her in danger.”

They were all well aware of the fact that Jujutsu sorcerers don’t have a high life expectancy. They were also aware that the way they saw the world was very different. If Yuta would start to get more involved with you, he would most likely put you in danger by having you as his weakness - he didn’t want that.

“I guess she will just stay your little crush, it’s better this way anyway” Maki then said. “At least now that you’ve made up your mind, you can stop being so unconcentrated during training.”

“You’re right,” he then replied, sighing.

“Awww man, there goes my ship,” Panda then said, sighing too.

“You all are impossible,” Maki complained before starting to walk. The others followed.

Yuta only shyly giggled. He then thought about it and couldn’t help but smile.

One day, for sure, he will give you a bouquet of flowers and tell you how beautiful you are - even if that would be the only time he would be honest to his feelings.

[kazimier]

intern!yuta with his big doe eyes and his soft spoken voice, and his hastily tugged shirts and his lopsided ties that give you the irking urge to pull them straight.

intern!yuta who's assigned to your department and who's taken a liking to you ever since his first day at the company.

intern!yuta who towers over you in height but still stumbles under the weight of your narrowed stare and the click of your heels.

intern!yuta who follows you around like a working dog, eager to get your approval as he bundles after you, memorising your coffee order and prickling ever so slightly if you happen to have another trainee.

intern!yuta who's a fast learner. you think he'll be a paid hire soon at this rate, making a note to mention his competence to the manager. yuta preens more from your praise than the prospective promotion.

intern!yuta who's oblivious to the giggling and flirtatious whispers that follow him in the lift and the hallways, moonily focused on meeting up with you.

maybe you'll let him stay for lunch? he's been working so hard-

intern!yuta who can't help but stare at your dark tinted lips, the frames sitting low on your nose or the lace cami peeking out from under your half buttoned shirt—

intern!yuta who feels the blood rushing to his face, worse, rushing south as he shifts his office bag in front of him, hoping to step out of the cramped lift before you catch on.

intern!yuta who can't help the sour look that comes over his face as he spots the gold band around your ring finger, stomach coiling as he mumbles some excuse to get back to work.

your brows furrow at his clipped reply, used to his soft smiles and polite responses, but you brush it off as it being a busy day

intern!yuta who later asks the elevator guy, how long you've been married, playing it off as casual conversation but he can't quite keep the bitterness out of his smile

intern!yuta who clings to the spark of hope when the guard frowns in confusion. stuttering to slip in a question about your ring the next time you're going over the internal reports with him

intern!yuta who's over the moon when he finds out it's just a birthday gift from your mother. hiding his smile as he ducks his head down, although his eyes blur over the words.

intern!yuta who is overjoyed the first time you invite him out for drinks after work, finishing up early in hopes of catching you so you can leave together, as he offers to pay for the taxi there

intern!yuta who's quick to occupy the seat next to you at the bar, scooting up far too close for a junior, offering to pour your drinks, and grill your share of meat, all under the disguise of respecting his seniors

intern!yuta who lets you speak up for him, telling the others to "let it be, he's still adjusting", oblivious to the smile he shoots 'haru from marketing'. he's not been blind to the other guy's not so subtle advances at you.

intern!yuta who can't help his workplace crush on you, with one hand down his sweatpants and the other swiping through the pictures from the party.

intern!yuta who zooms in on a picture of you laughing on his shoulder—you'd been four shots in and he hadn't drunk a single drop, not wanting to miss a moment of your off duty self.

intern!yuta who bites down on his lip to stifle a groan as he cums on his fist, narrowly missing the screen. and though he flushes at the thought, he's not bold enough to get some on your face... yet.

© kazimier

a/n- the devil works fast but I work faster... there'll be part 2. maybe. if I get around to it.

[yversz]

yuta fucking fem!reader and he begs her to moan out her name.. like

"angel can you say my name please?" "love please say my name.."

. . . nsfw : unprotected, no other warnings ?

note : jjk recs open.... especially for yuta. that manga is literally yuta kaisen to me i love him so much I bought another figure today...yuta smau will be updated soon btw

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ 乙骨憂太 : YUTA OKKOTSU

it doesn't take a genius to see that yuta okkotsu is absolutely obsessed with you. whether it's about simply getting to watch you do mundane tasks, holding your hands as the two of you walk back home from a date during the evening hours, or the excitement that fills your voice whenever you tell him about things you're passionate about doesn't matter—he loves it all dearly. craves it. gets all his energy and will to keep going from those small things. your mere existence is enough to brighten his day.

what he loves most, however, is the way you say his name. when it breathlessly falls from your lips between kisses, when you call for him from another room. it's such a small thing; so simple. mundane and something he gets blessed with every day, yet it's still so effective. he would cry and beg for you to say it if that's what he had to do to hear it, and that's exactly what he was doing right now.

cock deep inside of you, yuta's face was buried in the crook of your neck. his hot breath was tingling against your skin as he moaned, slowly dragging his cock in and out of your wet hole. his body hovered above yours, holding himself up as he fucked into you from behind, your head pushed deep into the pillows.

it felt so good—how well you took him, the warmth of your body against his own making him feel dizzy. tears formed in his eyes, the pleasure so overwhelming all throughout his body that he couldn't hold them back. he hoped you felt just as good as he did—needed you to. yuta would do this forever if he could and if it meant you were having a good time.

you gasped as yuta pinched one of your nipples, switching from rolling the hardened bud between the tips of his slender fingers, to roughly massaging the soft flesh of your tits. a groan escaped from his lips at the sounds you made, pace quickening as he kept thrusting inside of you. deeper and deeper; bathing in the beautiful sounds you let out that only made him want to make you get even louder.

he couldn't help himself from whispering into your ear; sweet praises that he probably didn't even realise he was saying. words of how well you were doing, how proud he was of you for taking him so well—how badly he wanted to fill you up; to come deep inside of you and make you feel good.

"love you so much", he slured, words barely coherent as he whined at you squeezing around his cock. his arm was slung around you to steady you, free fingers rubbing against your clit. they'd already been coated in your slick from how long he had been fingering you earlier; making sure you'd be able to take his cock.

"need you to say my name", yuta added with a shaky breath, pulling his cock out almost entirely before he rammed it back into you, head thrown back as he groaned, "please"

yuta buried his face against your skin again, face hot in embarrassment at the desperation in his voice. he needed to hear it—needed you to be as desperate for him as he was for you. the approval, the confirmation that he was doing something right.

"yu—", you really tried to speak up, but he cut you off with another deep thrust, hitting all the rights spots and making you arch your back in pleasure.

he could give you the second of rest to give you a chance to actually get out more than a syllable, to actually say his name, but it was so difficult to hold back from fucking your pretty hole.

"angel", yuta pleaded, "please say it"

you tried again and again, too fucked out and brain too mushy to actually get anything out, mouth agape as your eyes rolled back.

"ngh— yuta—!", you moaned out, another particularly deep thrust hitting just right, and yuta instantly came at the sound of his name falling from your pretty mouth, cock buried deep inside as he filled you up with his hot seeds, head thrown back as he did so.

you squirmed underneath him as you came not long afterwards, coating his cock in your release as yuta fucked you through your orgasm, slow drags before his movements eventually came to a halt, sweating and panting as he pulled out and wrapped his arms around you.

moving the two of you to lay on your sides, he was peppering small, gentle kisses down the back of your neck, letting out a satisfied sigh. you could feel him relax behind you, your back pressed against his chest as you closed your eyes, your exhaustion making itself know all throughout your body.

"want me to run you a bath?", yuta whispered, one hand sprawled across your stomach as he gently rubbed his fingers against your skin, smiling as you nodded weakly, too tired to want to talk much.

he loved this sight. you being close to him, both of you at peace and everything that could bother you far away. just him and the person he loves most in the world.

this is lowkey ass but who gaf

[batterygarden-deactivated202411]

oh no! your big brother's best friend is the only one around to help you put in a tampon 😣.

yuuta x fem & afab reader. 18+ MDNI.

cw: yuuta is his own tw, somewhat taboo dynamics bc he has viewed you as a sibling, graphic period descriptions and blood, um it's sexualized, everyone's adults, reader just hasn't used a tampon before, yuuta masturbating mention, 1.3k words

“I just- I don’t know what to do. She wants us to take pictures in the pool! Like, I can’t avoid it!”

“Um. Maybe one of the other bridesmaids could help?” 

“I’ve barely spoken to any of them! They’d think I’m so dumb, Yuuta!”

Yuuta can only lean against the bathroom door and bite his tongue, completely at a loss. He wonders if even the wisest man alive would know how to navigate this type of thing—his best friend’s grown little sister’s period troubles. 

“‘M sorry.” He says earnestly. 

He hears you sniffle and mumble how it’s not his fault. Then there’s a slam of what’s presumably a cardboard tampon box thrown to the floor. 

“God, these instructions aren't helping at all! It hurts!” 

Yuuta’s pretty sure it’s not supposed to, at least from his experience knowing people who menstruate. Tampons are, like, tiny. He catches himself before he can really pursue the train of thought he starts heading towards—one where he contemplates if you’re a virgin, and if somehow that could make it harder to put in. He has to mentally slap himself; he’s being disgusting. 

“The YouTube video I sent—“ 

“No, yuuta, I swear, my vagina’s just, like. Different from anyone else’s. I need a doctor to do this, not some video.” 

You’re talking through quiet sobs and he’s concerned and he cares about you but Yuuta also can’t help but think you’re being a bit ridiculous. Soon the both of you will be late to your own brother’s wedding. 

“I can’t do this! I'm really and truly starting to freak out, Yuu!”

“Okay, I think—“ 

“Can you just come in and help?” 

The breath is knocked from his lungs.

“Uhh..”

“Please Yuuta there’s no one else who can! We’ll be late!” 

Yuuta purses his lips, checking the time on his phone for maybe the third time in the past minute. 

“Um…” 

“Please, just come in”

Deep exhale. “Alright then, I’m opening the door.” 

When he does, he finds you exactly the way he expected, perched on your toilet with closed legs, your baggy tee barely concealing the space between your thighs—he’s glad to note that your hair and makeup at least seem to already be done and your dress is hung up and ready. He spots the tampon box on the ground in front of you, its contents spilling out on the bathroom tiles. Then his eyes find your hands hovering over your lap, one of them clutching a plastic tampon applicator, both of them with bloody fingertips. 

Yuuta squares his shoulders. 

“So what’s the situation?” 

He’s very consciously only looking at your eyes when he asks, staring too long anywhere else feels rude. 

“This thing is literally tearing up my insides everytime I try to use it—maybe I’m not putting it in the right way.”

“Kay,” Yuuta’s thoughts seem to be moving incredibly slow. “Uh, do you wanna try again and I could, like, read the instructions for you while you do it?” 

You huff, giving a nod. 

“Okay.” He fumbles with the box, sitting next to you on the edge of the bathtub. Another deep breath. 

“Place the tip of the applicator at the vagina opening…” he notices you doing so out of his peripheral. His cheeks could not get any redder. 

“Now slide it in, up to where your fingers are.” 

He notices the way you hold your breath when you try—then you squeal. 

“No, this sucks yuuta! I can’t even do that—I need to angle it perfectly parallel to my tummy so it won’t hurt and I just can’t.” 

He sees you’ve taken out the applicator again. 

“I honestly think you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be, yn.” 

“Well how would you even know?” 

“I mean. I’ve seen a woman put in a tampon before…” 

“The YouTube animation isn’t the same, Yuu!” 

“Uh, well… I meant maki.” 

Yuuta watches as just about every emotion on earth briefly crosses your face. 

“That’s—“ you shake your head. “Why?!” 

Suddenly he wishes he had just kept his credibility to himself. 

“She was my girlfriend at the time, it’s not like it was weird! What I’m trying to say is, you should just relax and not think about it so hard. I think you’re too tense and that’s why you’re getting hurt.” 

You hyperventilate a bit again—hopefully getting it out of your system—before nodding and trying again. This attempt ends in another sob. 

And there Yuuta sits, a foot away beside you, staring at the ceiling and praying to whatever god is out there for this moment to pass. 

“Yuuta—“ you sniffle, “can you do it for me?” 

…

Yuuta sighs a deep, long sigh. He… had an idea that’s where this was headed. And what’s he supposed to do? Leave you hanging right before a huge wedding which you’re both in the party of? While you’re crying and freaking out? 

“…alright, I’ll try.” 

He rolls up his sleeves, then he washes his hands, holding them up like he’s about to perform surgery.  

You offer the tampon. 

Gingerly, he plucks the bloody applicator from your fingers. 

He squats down in front of you then, eyes flicking to your sniffling face while wearing his own similar, very somber, expression. 

“You’re gonna have to open your legs.” 

Slowly, you do. 

And yuuta tries not to be weird about it—he doesn’t know what even constitutes a normal reaction here, but he can’t help but instantly engrave the image of your spread pussy, blood staining its lips and dripping out of it, permanently into his brain. He knows it’s permanent because he doesn’t want it to be. He knows he’ll think about it because he’ll try not to. This is some kind of test from the universe and he is failing. 

He stares for a second, instinctively catching every detail. The way red smears across the plush insides of your thighs, the way you clench yourself automatically under his gaze, the way a red drop oozes from your hole when you do. The shape of your lips leading up to your clit. 

He shakes his head microscopically to clear it, hoping you don’t pick up on his pause. He uses one hand to grip onto a thigh then, holding steady while he brings the applicator to you for the millionth time today. You make a worried noise. 

“Breathe for me?” 

When he hears you exhale, Yuuta eases the applicator in bit, angling it up whatever way feels natural, then he pushes the trigger so the tampon’s inserted. 

You make a surprised gasp, mumbling a little oh my god before sitting up straight. Yuuta knows it’s finally in there correctly. 

His hands are washed and he is out of that room faster than you could say thank you. 

The drive to the event is less awkward than it could be, thanks to the news podcast Yuuta always listens to and an interesting story spurring on conversation. But yuuta can’t stop thinking about it. He’s known you since you were kids—only ever looked at you like a somewhat annoying little sibling—but now his brain keeps reverting to thoughts of your warm little pussy every other minute. When you talk, when you look at him, when you hold his arm walking down the aisle before the bride. When you dance later in the night. And most importantly, when his fist’s around his cock in his hotel room later, turning in early even after one of your pretty cousins kept trying to get inside his pants all night. He might not have turned her down under different circumstances, but he knew he had to when his head kept reverting to you, eyes darting to find you at the reception almost every other minute. Drifting to your body whenever they did…

[written-and-readen]

"It's heavier than I thought." You grip the handle of Yuta's katana, fingers running over the flat of the blade. They carry the same gentleness as when they alight on his skin—almost as if treating it as an extension of himself.

"I said the same thing when I first held it." He watches you hold the weapon as if to strike. The position of your hands is off. He doesn't tell you that. The desire to guide your wrists and shift them apart to better steady the blade does flit through his mind though.

"I can't believe you can wield this with just one hand." The katana catches the light as you get a feel for it. A similar light sparks in your eyes, the kind he recognizes from whenever an idea goes off in your head.

"Gotcha!" Yuta can see it coming, but he lets the blade of his own weapon point itself at the side of his neck. A special grade sorcerer—you have no chance of hurting him, but he swallows hard at the way you smile in this moment. Lips upturned, that spark still in your eyes, your head tilted every so slightly as you pretend to size him up. It all breaks in a puff of laughter as you lower the sword.

You're going to be the death of him.

[kenyudotcom]

fem reader (no prns, mentions of female anatomy) . suggestive ? @postcard-batteries ily for req 🥹

yuta okkotsu is a little... odd.

you love him, you really do! but he does this totally weird thing when he's laying behind you.

picture this; you're trying not to doze off while you doomscroll on your phone, and he's laying behind you with his arms around your torso and his face snuggled between your neck and pillow. all up in your personal space, but that's not the weird thing.

he has this habit of warming his hands up on you. sometimes he'll sneak his ice-cold hands into your pockets, other times he'll hold yours and pretend you're the one with freakishly cold hands. he'll do anything but keep his own hands warm.

this time was a little different.

you pay no mind to him pushing the hem of your shirt up slightly. you ignore the way he leans over your shoulder and presses a tender kiss to your cheek, as if to distract you from the freezing cold sensation of his hands sliding onto your abdomen.

"yuta!" you shriek, squirming in his arms.

"sorry, sorry," he sheepishly grins. he slides his hands a little lower, slipping under the waistband of your pants and down onto your upper thighs.

you tense up a little, adjusting to his hands stealing your body's warmth. eventually, his hands just feel apart of your own body; all warmed up. it's a gentle gesture that you've gotten used to.

but, of course, yuta has to add his weird touch to it.

first, his fingers rub tenderly along the spot they rest on. that's okay, not too distracting. next, he slides his fingers out of your pants and immediately back in, just under where your underwear sits on your hips.

"yuta..."

"what? i wanna be closer to you."

you let it slide. again. to be fair, it's not like he's got ulterior motives. from what you can see, at least. his thumb rubs up and down along one spot on your hips, faintly tickling a shiver from you. he slides his free hand up your back, feeling around until he finds the clasp of your bra. in one swift move, he unclasps it, gently rubbing the spot it tightened at to ease the pressure.

sneaky bastard.

his hand wraps around your side in a way that makes you swear he's about to turn this quiet time together into something quite a bit louder. but it never comes. his thumb rests on your back, his palm curved over your side and finger tips rubbing beneath the curve of your breast. it's almost absentminded, by the way his hand on your hip slows down and curls in to cup your inner thigh.

stupid, weird boy. who falls asleep midway through whatever this was??

totally weird, right? though, it's okay; he's your weirdo, after all.

© kenyudotcom 2026 feeding to ai, plagiarism and claiming as own are strictly forbidden. likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[greelin]

give me a man who looks exhausted & has an aura that makes everyone in the room feel unnerved

[yutanology]

no words could ever describe how much yuta loves you. he loves you so much, he doesn't have time to prioritise himself.

there's not a second he's not thinking of you. his only friends who had been ostracized along with him because people consider them weirdos, started to distance themselves from him too.

he didn't mind that he's on his own now. he has you anyways. you, who always looked at him in disgust and disdain. he has no clue why but it does hurt him when you look at him that way.

that doesn't stop him from collecting every item you leave on your desk, even if it's just a piece of scrap paper. it doesn't stop him from following you everywhere, and it definitely doesn't stop him from loving you.

he doesn't understand why you hate him so much. can't you see how much he's willing to give up and how far he'd go just for you?

so when you told him how much you hated his creepy eyes staring at you all the time, and yelled at him to leave you alone, he thought maybe he just needed to show you what he actually could do for you.

that same night, he rang your doorbell. when you opened your door, you let out a scream and fell back. yuta staggered forward towards you. in his hands held the eyes you hate so much.

blood was still dripping from his hollow eye sockets. he smiled at you as if he could still see you, and offered you his eyes that he personally plucked out.

[eluminiess]

only you | [yandere] yuta okkotsu

you had been together for a long time. and honestly, before that, yuta couldn't even imagine loving someone this much.

but lately, that feeling had started to grow in a strange way. not fading, but getting stronger with each day, twisting from a simple desire to take care of you into something... overwhelming.

it got worse.

because yuta started to notice everything.

every movement, every glance, every half-smile. he knew what you liked, what you didn't, what you might like, and exactly when.

but it wasn't enough.

yuta always wanted to know more.

one day, watching you talk to another man, laughing at something insignificant, a thought slipped into his mind too easily.

would he be capable of hurting someone innocent?

yuta didn't look away.

...and was that man really innocent, if he looked at you like that?

yuta didn't do anything. yet.

but who knows what this strange, strange feeling might turn into.

[vivasbrain]

Yuuta wants you to ruin him ! Cw: aged-up submissive, inexperienced, virgin, pervert yuuta x dominant reader, loss of virginity, spit, cnc, slapping, somnophilia

Yuuta is almost too cute to be true. A shy, kind-hearted, soft-spoken boy with big, glossy doe eyes that made your hands itch with the need to squeeze him.

He looks sweet, he is sweet. He looks innocent, but he's not that innocent.

Everybody believed that a guy such as Yuuta was just incapable of producing a single dirty thought in that little head of his. His appearance creating the illusion of innocence— halo-effect in it's purest form. Yuuta's personality can easily fool anyone as well. He blushes when Panda asks inappropriate questions, actually gasped when you two first held hands, and would turn red just from forehead kisses alone.

Yuuta was an extremely strong sorcerer, but somehow, you managed to be stronger than him.

Sometimes you would goof around, dragging him or play fighting. And he never fought back, his muscles going completely soft under the touch of your delicate hands when he could easily pin you down and overpower the situation. You could really just treat him like a rag doll and he'd let you with a shy, far-too-happy smile. He turns into putty whenever you're around. Making a special grade's knees buckle with something as small as smilling up at him.

And he did act weirdly.

Now, you had never raised your hand to your man, that's wrong. But for some reason, he would cower whenever you got mad. You could picture imaginary puppy ears pressing tightly to his head as he plead "please don't hurt me" with the most adorable expression ever. As if dangling the option to be mean right in front of you.

This behavior came off as confusing because you had no idea of the thoughts that haunted his mind. No matter how much Yuuta tried to surpress his perverse thoughts, they always leaked through the cracks of facade. Cracks that you created simply by existing around him.

Yuuta's mind could make a gutter look clean.

You two haven't had sex yet, deciding to take things slow and easy. Yuuta was happy with how much you respected him, but it just made him so frustrated! He was always so needy, so desperate, and only your hands could fix that. He's just too obsessed, too head over heels, hopelessly, pathetically in love. Yuuta is incapable of being mean to you, his body simply isn't capable. That's why he wants you to hurt him, to establish dominance as he kneels by your feet like the obedient puppy he desperately wants to be. He has so many naughty dreams where you take advantage of him and steal his virginity, he always wakes up with a layer of wetness spreading over his crotch, pouting as he wished you'd touch him inappropriately as he slept.

He's constantly bearing himself to you, so loudly vulnerable for you to take him once and for all. But you never do anything! You're too kind, and he thinks about how would it be like if you decided to disrespect him for once. Groping him as he passes by and laughing at his flustered reactions, yanking at his hair as he's forced to perform oral until his jaw hurts, shoving him down on the mattress and fucking him silly, pulling orgasm after orgasm until he's begging for you to slow down, to be gentle, only for you to spit in his mouth and lightly slap his tear-soaked face when he tries to fight back, a choked moan ripping from his throat as he's forced to endure actual torture. All for you.

Maybe one day. For now, he can't even maintain eye-contact without popping a boner.

[szarina]

✞ noncon/somnophilia with little stepbrother! yuta okkotsu (full fic coming soon)

in the silence of the night – a dark shadowy figure looms in the room. it's like a perfect pause from how still the things are. except for the breathing coming from the person nestled in the comfort of her bed. oblivious to her surroundings.

the door made a muffled creak sound. careful not to slam the door and alert of the intruder lurking in the room. if he was still younger and you, this wouldn't be a problem. everything's fine. he can always reason he's afraid of the dark — or he can't sleep and many reasons that he goes to this particular room. seeking the warmth and comfort of the person he deeply loves.

he's been restless. the dark circles under his eyes was evident. the lack of sleep and thinking late night was the caused of it. dark blue eyes bore holes at the sleeping figure. the reason for the dark bags and the restlessness and the forbidden desires that keeps him awake.

slowly, he stalked towards the bed. light muted steps akin to a cat stalking a prey. he mastered how to walk, to creep in like he was shadow. still and quiet. a part of this room. blending in his surroundings like he did many times. always in the background. always watching.

the bed dips at the added as he climbs up. hovering over his sweet stepsister's sleeping body. his breath hitching like there's something stuck in his throat. sleeping so soundly without a care or you could just be tired. he knows how hard you work.

the scent of your perfume exudes something warm and comforting. beckoning him to come closer. in which he did, leaning towards your neck. placing his palm on the sides of your arms to steady himself. careful not to wake you as he indulge himself in his desire to be closer to you. to be near as he basks in the scent of yours.

yuta lets out a sigh. oneesan. his mind cried. staring at his stepsister sleeping. a couple of years older than him. you look so beautiful. the moonlight paving through in your windows — casting a soft glow. making the dark locks of your hair seemingly a halo around your head. a angel. yuta thought. falling from the sky to be with him. heaven sent for a sick person like him. saving him from all of the disgrace and he hopes you won't find him in this position.

straddling you — staring at you from above. drinking at the sight of your plush body covered by the blanket which he tossed aside. leaving you bare for his eyes to see. his breath quickens, drawing shallow breaths. his heart beating fast in his ribcage. he licks his lips, trying to draw moisture as his mouth turns dry.

adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows. entranced at the sight that is laid below him. no matter how many nights he visited you and saw you in your sleepwear, ranging from your cute pajamas and to the nighties you wore that leaves nothing for the imagination, always leaves him breathless and tonight, like any other nights — it wasn't any different.

yuta's hand trembles. slowly reaching out to the swell of your breast. gently cupping them and feeling the weight of it. admiring how it perfectly fits in his palm and his other hand grabs your round belly straining from fabric of your oversized shirt. so soft. he mutters under his breath.

touch gentle as a feather, yuta slowly descends to your stomach and then to the hem of your shirt, stopping at your mid-thighs. he slowly raises the shirt up and yuta swallows. the familiar tightness creeping up on him. his cock pressing in the confines of his boxers at the sight of your creamy thighs pressed together.

your panties showing, covering the mound that yuta desperately wanted to taste and fuck his cock into it. if you'll allow him which he will gladly do so but for now, he makes sure you won't wake up. he badly needs you.

yuta gulps. a slight trickle of sweat rolling down in his forehead. he had done this so many time but he feels nervous. what if you'll wake up? and find him defiling your own body for his own pleasures. will you get angry? disgusted? repulsed? curse at him for such being a sick person? or worse telling him that he should stay away from you. the options are infinite and yuta didn't know if he could take your anger at him but the temptation is too strong to resist and yuta's weakness was you.

i'm sorry nee-san. yuta thought before pulling down his pants and then his gray boxers followed suit, stained with his precum. spitting on his palm and stroking his cock with his spit. making sure your thighs are well lubricated before slipping it in between your thighs.

your panties weren't enough. no matter how many time he jerks off with your used panties in his nose. his hand tightly wrapped around his shaft, wishing it was your tight pussy instead of his hand. he always cry from frustration. staring at his hand — stained with his spent.

a shiver went down his spine. bucking his hips to get more of that softness of your thighs — suffocating his aching cock. precum leaking all over it and leaving trails in your thighs. a shaky moan passing his lips. grunting at the pleasure he was feeling.

“oneesan..... your body is so soft....” yuta huffs. soft puffs of his breath coming in shorts as he continued to plunge his length inside your thighs. fisting the sheets besides you to avoid waking you up and find him violating your body.

the dark short strands of his hair falls down while he leans to steal a kiss from you. framing the youthful look of his handsome face. “hmmm” yuta hums in appreciation. his lips perfectly melding in your soft, plump lips and it was one of the many kisses he stole from you. his first kiss too. he gave it to you but you didn't know it. you were asleep.

“oneesan.” he whispers. his eyes glossy as he still continued to fuck your thighs. his hips moving into a slow rhythm while his lips continues to descend in your neck. pressing his nose in the juncture of your neck and inhaling your scent. he could drown in this. it was intoxicating. no matter how many times he smelled it, he will always be coming back for more. he was utterly and deeply obsessed with you. his stepsister.

while he indulge himself in drinking to your very own body. a small thought creep up on his mind. everything's wrong about it. he shouldn't have touched you this way or violate you in your sleep without your knowledge. the thoughts later dispersed.

yuta's breath hitched. his hips moving in an urgent manner as his release gets nearer. “neesan. neesan. neesan.” he repeatedly chant in whisper. burying his face in the crook of your neck while he works closer to his release.

a guttural groan rips off from his throat as he reached his peak. his hips stuttering like a bow string being pulled taut — plunging his cock deeper to your creamy thighs and with a gasp, thick ropes of hot cum splattered between your thighs. yuta rocks his hips forward. prolonging the pleasure he was feeling before it was gone.

his chest heaves with exertion. his breath coming in small puffs. panting from the mind-shattering orgasm he experienced. it was always the best with you.

yuta's dark blue eyes glazes with adoration and lust as he stares at your still sleeping form. good thing you were a deep sleeper. you were oblivious to his perverseness and yuta could do this for many nights.

he lays besides you after cleaning you up. making sure he didn't leave evidence for you to suspect cause it's all wrong. wrong to touch his sweet big stepsister. he can't have you hating him.

yuta admires your sleeping figure. turning to the side and running his knuckles to the expanse of your round cheek. the soft whoosh of your breathing can be heard and yuta smiles — without a guilt and somehow it transforms him to being a child once again. always admiring his big stepsister. always looking out for him.

the years were kind to you and to his. despite the setbacks of his youth. being bullied for his way too shy to speak, soft-spoken and bullies doesn't like when someone's different from them. it didn't help that he was looking frail. he visited the hospital more than he did on the playground.

yuta was a wimp but the eyes of his big stepsister — he was someone far from it. you adored him and doted like he was your very own little brother.

after his mother divorced his father, yuta was left alone until his father remarried with a woman who was a widow and had a child. a few years older than him. the gap being five years and without him realizing you were the center of his world.

between the frailness of his health and missing his childhood, yuta didn't mind all of it cause you made up all of his memories. when you visit you always read stories to him and entertained him with stories from your day. it temporally stopped when he met rika in the hospital. giving him the chance to bond to his new friend. that turned months and yuta was engrossed with his friendship with rika until the latter's untimely death.

yuta seek the comfort of your embrace. he rests on your chest while you hugged him. shaking like a leaf in your arms and your hands rests on his back. drawing soft circles while he grieves. the sound of your voice was his comfort. telling him that it was okay. that it hurts when losing a loved one. similar to your father who passed away too soon.

“oneesan.” he softly mutters. staring intently at your sleeping face. “i love you so much.” he whispers, his voice a little shaky hoping that you would hear him. reciprocate his feeling that he harbored for you.

yuta rests for awhile besides you. his hand descending to feel your soft curves under his touch. he can feel his cock hardening again. throbbing in his boxers and yuta left before he can steal another one from you and he knows he won't last long and who knows what he will do again. maybe he could go all the way but that will surely wake you.

he left quietly just like when he entered.

[gojosconsort]

︵ ೀ mdni. yuta likes to get choked by you

“h-harder… please.”

the words leave yuta’s mouth soft and uncertain as he pushes another thick inch deeper inside you. your hand rests lightly against the side of his throat, not really to choke him—just to feel his racing pulse.

“…is that okay? i—i mean, if you don’t want to, it’s fine, i just…”

you close your hand around his throat, adding pressure, and his forehead drops to yours as a strangled groan leaves his lips. he swallows once under your palm.

“more, please…”

he bites his lower lip, then slowly covers your hand with his own. his palm is warmer, a little shaky as he presses your fingers more firmly against his throat.

“like that,” he whispers. “just… a little more. please.”

you add more pressure and his hips jerk deeper, the head of him kissing that sensitive spot inside you. you both moan into each other’s open mouths. sweat drips down his temple as he leans in to kiss you properly, then resumes those deep thrusts.

“ah—fuck…” the curse still sounds almost shy, like he’s not used to saying it out loud. his free hand slides under your thigh, lifting you into each thrust. “you feel so good… keep going. i can take it.”

you squeeze a little more and his rhythm falters before he drives in harder. his head dips, black hair falling around his face, and a broken little sound slips from his throat. his other hand stays over yours, encouraging the pressure.

“harder. i… i like it. don’t stop. i want to feel it when i—” he cuts himself off with a sharper moan when you squeeze. “fuck—please. harder. i’m close….”