𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓲

𝟏𝟖+ / 𝐬𝐡𝐞-𝐡𝐞𝐫 / 𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐎𝐤𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐅𝐚𝐧

[yuulettte]

ꫂ❁𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 + 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ~ 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 ~ 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ❛ ༉‧₊˚

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 [𝐲𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠!]

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞: 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 ♡

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧: 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

[5thamendmentt]

prac w bodies;_;

[nessieartss]

”Just 1 sketch of yuuta,” I said, like a liar.

if you managed to inspect every each picture in this just know that you have all my respect

[yingchuu]

Headcanons I have for Yuta in a relationship 𐙚

𝙔𝙐𝙏𝘼'𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀 𝙏𝙊 give you corny nicknames. Like angel, sweetheart, honey. he says them in such a soft tone, even when he's angry, it makes you weak in the knees

𝙔𝙐𝙏𝘼'𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀 𝙏𝙊 try to learn how to make the meals and sweets that you like. he, himself, doesn't have much interest in food (canon!) but if his partner loves a certain meal, he'd want to know how to make it to please you.

𝙔𝙐𝙏𝘼'𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀 𝙏𝙊 go easy on you during training. not because he thinks you're weak, but because he's really afraid of hurting you in any way. if you ask him to go all out, he'll just nervously scratch the back of his neck and nod, giving in a little to your request but not enough to actually leave any bruises.

𝙔𝙐𝙏𝘼'𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀 𝙏𝙊 take random pictures of you so that when he's abroad, he'll have all of those pictures to look at whenever he misses you and can't call you due to the time difference.

𝙔𝙐𝙏𝘼'𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀 𝙏𝙊 never get mad at you. no matter how you try to get on his nerves, he'll just give you a smile and say '' i could never be mad at you, angel. you can keep trying '' which makes you blush every time

𝙔𝙐𝙏𝘼'𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀 𝙏𝙊 love love love love giving you forehead kisses. his favourite places to kiss you would be your forehead 100%. you could be crying on his shoulders, he'll take your cheeks in his rough hands and give you a forehead kiss, telling you that he's always going to be there for you no matter what

𝙔𝙐𝙏𝘼'𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀 𝙏𝙊 make pinky promises with you, interlacing both of your pinkies and touching thumbs as well. he calls it the promise kiss because your thumbs look like they're kissing.

𝙔𝙐𝙏𝘼'𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀 𝙏𝙊 love holding your hands. i see him as the time to fully grasp your hand in his, rub his thumb on the back of your hand while smiling happily to himself, swinging your arms back and forth.

𝙔𝙐𝙏𝘼'𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀 𝙏𝙊 be your anchor forever and ever, no matter what happens between the two of you, he'll always be there for you, rooting for you whether it's by your side or from the shadows (he'd rather it be the first option though)

[chosflower]

ᰔ ᩚyuta loves his girly high maintenance girl<3 !

you’ve always been a high maintenance typa’ girl, you got your nails done every two weeks, go to a spa once or thrice a month, lashes lifted and long, makeup done perfectly everyday, high quality skincare always. a new hair style every week. jewelry polished and clean, body exfoliated and shaved—hair silky and soft.

god.. that’s not even a half of what you do.

no one could ever keep up with you and your oh so ‘ridiculous’ routine. someone always had something to say?

things like— ‘you’re too posh’ ‘why do you try so hard?’ ‘who are you trying to impress’ but you aren’t ‘posh’ you’re just put together. like really put together. and you are not trying to impress anyone at all. you just like feeling put together is all.

i mean you legit pay for everything yourself?

other men hated that so much about you, it’s like they held you back from being you. you would thinking they’d like a girl who’s put together huh?

that’s exactly what yuta adores about you. you put so much effort into your appearance, you work for this. you don’t get dolled up for strangers. you get dolled up because you like it. he never would make you feel a such a way, let alone ever say anything like that. he loves seeing his flower all perfect and pretty—and not just for him. for yourself.

he’s soooo supportive, he’ll get a facial with you sometimes at your local spa, get his hair cut while you get yours dyed or styled, pay for your nails, buy you lingerie, help you decide which dress or which top you’d get at the mall this time. while you give him a runway show,

and while you’re out with him? yuta always pays. whether it’s 20 dollars or 200 before you can process it yuta shoves away your card and replaces it with his muttering something like “it’s okay flower, i’ve got it, okay?” with the sweetest smile, like he was proud—he is.

he hates when you pay for those things. don’t get him wrong he loves that your self assured, but sometimes everyone needs a break. including you obviously. you are human after all not a doll.

you aren’t ‘miss perfect’ all the time. you break out, your hair sometimes is all over the place, your nails chip, your tights rip, you pluck your eyebrows too much, you don’t shave every sunday. your body isn’t as perfect as you want it to be. on top of that you’re just insecure.

which is okay. you’re a woman

yuta loves when you’re not dolled up—he loves you either way but seeing you like this? god, it heals something within him, you’re all vulnerable and comfortable with him, you feel safe and secure around him. makes him weak.shit it makes him leak—

he loves you, every single thing about you, whether you’re dolled up or comfy ‘n cozy he’s yours.

©cho’s flower

a/n: reader is lowkgenuinely just like me heh.

[nessieartss]

will never get over him im afraid

[nessieartss]

March gang!!!

Ok I know I’m this🫸 🫷late for yuuji’s birthday, but then I thought well why not celebrate it with his other 2 senpai(s) who happen to share the same birthday month with him before march ends, also the fact that the three of them were present in this season is the cherry on top

and yes, yuuji is wearing his one and only limited edition jennifer lawrence graphic tee, I’m gonna shut up now

[lastseraphicsoul]

when my kids are complaining about their undereye dark circles, dark blue eyes but mommy had a type.

[yone42]

🐈🎤

[hyeahjujutsu]

★ OKKOTSU YUUTA | SPECIAL GRADE SORCERER ★

↳ Requested by Daisy @okkotsu-yuutas~

[fairycourts]

@okkottsus @cruel-hiraeth

[sweethearticism]

♡ ₊˚‧ 𝓞.𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀. learns to love his birthday again.

˖ ࣪૮₍ fluff ( wow ) :: reader's hopelessly in love :: slight angst ࣪ა ࣪˖

Yuta often forgot his birthday.

It's to be expected. He hasn't had a normal birthday since he was ten. His mother would bake a cake. His father would take him to the park. Rika would be invited for a small birthday party, the one with silly hats and multicoloured balloons. Every kid's dream.

But being estranged from your parents and distanced from your family— being bound to a curse, well, that certainly took the joy out of anything. When your very birth became a curse, what was there to celebrate?

But then you came along.

He was eighteen when you first shoved a small box into his hand, your face dazzled by the sun and your smile brighter.

He blinked rapidly. “What's—”

“Happy birthday!”

He blinked again.

Birthday? Oh, right. March 7th. But how did you. . .

“Gojo-Sensei told me,” you reached up, flicking his temple and grinning as he pouted, cupping his face.

“Ah, I see.” He carefully looked at the gift. “Well, you didn't have to—”

“Shh.”

He paused as you shoved a hand to his chest. He hoped you wouldn't hear his racing heart. It rattled his ribcage when you smiled at him like that.

“Just open it, kay?” you cooed.

It was a bracelet. Simple. Black beads with a white charm. He never took it off.

Just like he'd never forgotten his birthday ever again.

Moreso, you wouldn't allow him to. Every birthday since then, you always found a way of popping your head in and brightening his day.

You got him a cake for his nineteenth. With candles and everything. He told you he hadn't had a birthday cake in over a decade.

He regretted how you almost cried.

“Hey, hey, it's fine— really!" His hands waved frankly as his brows pinched. Lips pressed together in a concerned line. “I'm not sad or anything. It was a long time ago.”

“Yuta.”

He paused at the crack in your voice. Heart aching. Only to flutter when you hugged on his arm and pressed your face into his shoulder. So close. So soft.

“I'll never let you be lonely again.” You muttered.

Something warm blossomed in his chest. And even as his hand shook, it reached to cup your head. Hold you close. Because he believed it.

How could he ever feel lonely when you were around?

On his twentieth, you confessed.

It was messy. An accident. You'd been so high strung on cuddling in his arms after a night full of cake and watching romcoms he had a soft spot for— that you didn't realise how close your face was to his.

Didn't realise that you were leaning in to peck away frosting from his lips before you could stop yourself.

Only realises when he tensed and his dead eyes went wide. When arms that held you fell limp.

You surged with panic.

“I—” you jerked back. “Sorry, I. I wasn't thinking. I just—"

And then you burst.

“I like you! Well, not like you. More like— love you. Or, well, that's weird. That's fast. I mean I really like you— uh.” you scrambled to get off of the sofa. “I think I'm just gonna—”

He let himself be bold that night. Two decades was a mark for change.

Yuta's cold hand cupped the back of your head, the bracelet you got him still dangling from his wrist.

He you back in before you could fumble to your feet. Pale lips pressed on yours. Clumsy but certain. Dazed, but deep. Kissing you like his soul knew how to innately. Like loving you was natural.

Because it was.

You squeaked at first, stiffened. Before you melted into him the same way you always did.

Your softness pressed into him. Hands curling round his shirt as you deepened the kiss. Leaned further onto him. And further— until you toppled him over the sofa and straight to the floor.

His arm shot around you. Just like yours darted to cushion his head. Both yelping as you hit the floor with thud— with silence— and then a bout of warm laughter.

“Well, I really like you, too.”

His titters paused as you leaned over him. Pressing your forearm beside his head and brushing your lips over his once more. His arm curled around you tighter. Lashes eased until his eyes fluttered shut.

Soft and sweet. The perfect gift.

And as you parted, you whispered above him. Eyes dazzled just like that day two years ago. With no sun.

Just him.

“Happy birthday, Yuta.”

You smiled.

He never forgot another birthday after that.

After all, he had an important reason to remember it, now.

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @/uzmacchiato.

[sweethearticism]

♡ ₊˚‧ 𝓞.𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀. flips the switch on you easily.

˖ ࣪૮₍ smut :: riding :: praise :: taunting :: switch!yuta ࣪ა ࣪˖

“baby,” yuta rasped, as long, shaky fingers squeezed on your bouncing hips. tethering his soul to the sinful way in which you came down on him. thighs smacking, hips grinding. you rode his lap like you were trying to squeeze out every semblance of his sanity.

“just like that— ah, so perfect,” pale lips pressed together. dark hair spread out on the wrinkled pillows as his head fell back. tossing with the bed that jumped with every clamour of your hips.

the epitome of beauty, an angel, a devil, both— when you squeezed around his cock and slicked his balls all messy. when your pretty nails dug on his shoulders and collarbones. when your gorgeous eyes dazed down at him through your fluttering lashes.

“mm, feels good yu? am I doing good for you?” you crooned, slowing your hips into a lazy, nasty drag that pulled a pitched moan out of him.

“so good— so, so good. hah. how'd I get so lucky?” he smiled up at you. through glossy eyes and trembling lips.

his head crooked so he pressed a kiss to your inner wrist. worshipping your veins, your blood, your pulse that allowed you to be here.

wrapped so perfect and velvet around his cock— squeezing every vein and kissing his tip with whatever darling spot you desired. working him to a high that had him clinging to you. gripping onto your very soul with his tightening fingers and every thrum of his dick.

cold hands smoothed over you. up your thighs, caressing your hips, worshipping your sides and cradling your breasts. he thumbed your nipples in tender swirls. in time with your hips that began to stutter.

“no, no. come on,” he ushered, bucking up once for encouragement. “you can do it, angel. don't stop now.”

his voice thinned. sucking in a breath as he watched your pace go sloppy. clumsy and overstimulated— but you were still smiling through your needy moans.

“yu babbyyyy,” you whined, playful. as you hunched over him, nails scratching on his chest and lips ghosting his. a promise. a tease.

“can't help it. feels so good. just gonna have to deal with it, hm?”

“you're a curse, you know that?” he returned your smile, despite the flicker in his dead eyes.

his hands slipped back to your ass. squeezing. a pout settled on his lips. “my poor pretty girl. so worked up. . ."

shlap!

pale skin smacked into yours. wet, rough, and strikingly abrupt— you squealed. slumping over your boyfriend who squished on the plush of your ass and rolled his hips up. deep and dirty. smooching his tip into a crook that curved your spine and shook your thighs.

“oh fuck— hngh.”

“don't worry, angel.”

yuta crooned to your ear as he pressed a deep kiss to it. arms hugging around your bouncing body tight. hips that once laid limp now pistoning in feral thrusts up into you. mean, merciless and nothing like the way he melted beneath you just a moment before. “I'll help. 'cause I love you so—”

his pelvis crammed! up into you. rutting rough and ragged on your cervix. slacking your jaw and blurring your vision.

“mngh— yuta!”

“— sooo much.” he didn't need to grin, not with the devil in that smile.

soft hands squeezed your thighs together. squished them tight to put pressure on his blur of thrusts. faster, harder, rougher than your sinful bounces. slapping his balls on your puffy pussy and milking your slick all over the sheets. splattering it over your thighs.

the lights flickered above. his cursed energy surged his pounds into a blinding prowess that sent your eyes rolling and tongue drooling. spluttering his name in a pitiful, ah ah ah!

“aww,” he cooed, pouting. he had the audacity to flash you those puppy eyes, like he wasn't pummeling your pussy into a creamy mess. “what was that, lovely girl? I can't hear you.”

“f-fuck— fuck you—!”

“now that's not very nice.”

he hummed, pale hand slipping up to pat on your ass that he chased ripples into with his merciless hips. “here I am making you cum so sooo good and you're being so mean.”

his cold touch slipped forward, thumb ghosting your swollen clit. drawing a whimper from your trembling lips as you flicked your head back.

“yuta. . . please, wait I can't—”

“sshh,” he hushed, swirling his thumb on the twitching nub with a feather touch, already sending your lashes fluttering while his batted up at you. innocent. infuriating.

“I can be mean, too.”

and then he flicked your clit.

pinched it hard between his fingers and rubbed it into a spasm that threw your spine into an arch and squeezed your pussy into a messy splutter.

all while he surged you higher into euphoria by plunging his cock up in a sharp stroke— humping on your cervix to spread your orgasm into a nervous wreck. trembling your body into a ruinous tremor.

“f-fuck— fuck fuck, ah.”

as you tumbled through your shattering climax, his hand snaked to yours. threading your fingers together. holding you tight. close. as he thumbed on your promise ring and rode out your high with tender praises.

“thereeee you go,” he blissfully sighed, his own eyes fluttering as he eyed the sticky mess between your thighs. “such a lovely girl with a lovely pussy.”

“you're a jerk.”

“I'm yours.”

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @/uzmacchiato. art cred: @/udaysharmaarts (ig)

[nessieartss]

drew yuuta 4 times in 4 different outfits and 4 different pose for his birthday im very normal about him

[sweethearticism]

𝓨𝒖𝒕𝒂 was obsessed with you. not in the way you'd expect. not in the demanding, or the aggressive or even the outwardly possessive way. it was persistent. dedicated. and worst of all?

loving.

he never quite got over you after the breakup. a year after the shinjuku showdown. you said he changed. he insisted he grew.

“i miss my sweet boy,” you'd said.

“aren't I sweet?” he still smiled like it.

you shook your head. turned away. told him there was something else in his smile. something shifted. an innocence you mourned.

he never quite let you grieve his absence, though. your coffee would be on your desk in the morning. your favourite flowers delivered every other week. you'd find him on your doorstep with takeout and a smile. find him in your apartment cooking, cleaning, making your bed, making things easier for you.

“what're you doing here?” you confronted him. got up in his face. looked at him like he was an irritable nightmare.

and yuta? he just smiled. never a threat. never a warning. looking at you like you were the sweetest dream.

“we're friends, aren't we?” he tilted his head. “that's what you said we were.”

“yeah well—”

“friends take care of each other, don't they?” his head tilted. that flicker of innocence that you lost shimmered in his eyes. ached your heart. flared your mind. because he knew what he was doing.

this wasn't first, nor second year. okkotsu yuta knew how to get under your skin, and he did so with the same smile that stuttered your chest.

he was insistent. promising he'd wait for you. assuring that you just needed time. but then another year went by, then another, and another— and before you knew it? he was twenty three and still delivering your favourite flowers.

it was overwhelming. he claimed love should feel like that. said love should be something that you chased for.

what scared you the most? the way his cursed energy crackled whenever he said it. like it really was his curse onto you.

“you can't chase me forever, okkotsu.” you'd hissed, as he stood in your kitchen. using your ingredients. cooking you dinner.

he didn't even look up. “that's what you think.”

then he turned to you with a spoonful of soup and the flat of his hand brushing beneath your chin to raise it. just slightly. delicately.

he smiled. “now. . . say ah.”

he frustrated you. with his kind smile. with his shifted outlook on life. with the maturity he'd developed when you just weren't looking.

finding someone else was impossible.

going back to him felt like a sentence.

so when you'd snapped, who could blame you?

when you snatched his sword from his very sheath and swiped it through the air. bladed it to his throat. a threat, a shaky promise. with your trembling hands and your snarling lips.

he didn't flinch.

and that's what frustrated you more.

a special grade sorcerer like himself, what could you possibly do?

you saw it in his eyes. he asked the question without even uttering a word. a calm confidence that eased from him in the arch of his brow and the unfaltering look on his face.

he was sure of himself. and even worse: unafraid of death.

truly, not your sweet boy anymore.

no sweetness in the way he stepped closer. no sweetness in his shadow that loomed over you. in the paleness of his neck that pushed closer to his blade.

“you want to kill me?” he asked. drawled, simple. as if asking about the weather, and not his life that was held in hands he clearly still wanted to kiss.

his hand shifted. long fingers curling around the blade. tight. unflinching. he yanked it closer. shoved his neck further. till the steel bit into his skin. into his fingers.

and even while you shook. while you gaped and hesitance faltered your grip— he stood there.

staring into your eyes. into your very soul.

he spoke clear. crystal. calm.

“do it properly, then.”

his face pressed further. digging deeper into the blade if it only meant to be closer to you.

not a blink. not a breath.

just brutal. bloody. devotion.

“kill me,” he breathed. cold lips brushing yours. his own blood dripping from his fingers. “just make sure to curse me a little.”

and then the bastard grinned.

“then we can be together, forever. hm?”

[assmaster-8000]

id drag my balls through 98 miles of broken glass and fire ants while actively getting whipped by marines just to suck yuta dick but you didn't hear that from me

[princess-okkotsu2]

Everyone saying rika should move on fuck no if I died and lost out on being Yuuta’s wife I’d be pressed for eternity

[yuulettte]

ꫂ❁𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

#✰𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 = 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

#✰𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 = 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬

#✰𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 = 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬

#✰𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 = 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐦 𝐦𝐞 ( • ̀ω•́ )✧