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Toge Headcanons cus i love him <3
he loves loves loves to cook.
has a really long drawn out hair care routine that takes him a couple hours to do.
really enjoys to do a deep clean of his dorm once a year and is totally the type to see something while cleaning and get so distracted for hours
sends letters to Yuta frequently and there always about the most random stuff its so funny. they get so long that sometimes he has to use three pieces of paper. he likes to send little gifts as well, and will send little trinkets like stickers he found at a cute store or a little polaroid picture of all of their friends.
he knows they can text, but he feels like sending letters is so much more personal
he does text Yuta a lot though, and usually its pictures of things he saw throughout his day like a pretty sky or a funny sign he saw while walking down the street.
his room decor is absolutely crazy
a lot of it is random stuff he found -he's a collector- and the other half of it is funny stuff he printed off or pictures of his friends.
his room is really comfy actually. he has a large collection of bean bag chairs and the LED's he has set a nice mood for his room. his friends spend a lot of time there, its like the hang out spot.
also collects shoes, and has them on display. really likes Jordans and Nikes.
really good at buying gifts for his friends birthdays. knows EXACTLY what his friends want, and always includes some sort of little gag gift or something to do with an inside joke.
he may not be able to talk, but he really likes to show how much he cares about them through his actions, and has a big habit of giving things to his friends. he's kind of like an outside cat- bringing little things to the people he cares about, but instead of bringing dead mice or birds he brings little trinkets.
even though he doesn't talk much, his voice is SO PRETTY and he is a GREAT singer. honestly, its a blessing he can't speak more because everyone would constantly be in awe of him.
#jjk#Jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reaeder#Jujutsu kaisen x reader#toge#toge inumaki#toge inumaki x reader#toge x reader#pretty boy#so handsome#i love him sm
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you don't know what i deserve .·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.
ft. okkotsu yuuta
it’s 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. you're on your own—just you and the dead body.
info : ̗̀➛ tags: gn!reader, neighbor au, strangers to lovers, yuuta & reader are a little strange, happy ending // cw: death, light angst, vulgar language, canon-typical violence...but pretty mild imo
thoughts : ̗̀➛ helllooo. back on my bullshit. let's call this a very belated birthday present to my beloved <3 // read this on ao3
wc : ̗̀➛ 5.1k
The human body contains a shit ton of blood.
Which is not something you think about often, but now you are forced to confront this fact in real-time. People… have a lot of blood.
And it stains. No matter how many times you wash your hands. There are still flakes of blood wedged underneath your fingernails. Part of you thinks it'll never go away.
...And then there's Sailor Moon.
“I am the pretty guardian who fights for love and justice! I am Sailor Moon! And now, in the name of the moon, I’ll punish you!”
Cue trumpets and flashy poses; the makings of a battle. Your comfort anime blares in the background of a morbid scene, the flickering TV casting a soft glow on a sight that will inevitably haunt your nightmares.
Because it's 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. Still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. You pace in your tiny living room, unsure of what to do, of how to proceed. The pretty Sailor Guardians won’t save you now. You’re on your own. Just you and the dead body.
How romantic.
The chill from outside has swept into your apartment thanks to that annoying fucking prick who left your window open. Honestly, people these days have no decency. The least he could’ve done was close your shutters after tumbling through your bedroom window like a deranged acrobat. Now you’re, like, moderately cold.
“What a fucking mess,” you sigh.
Blood seeps into the earthy Persian rug that you got for half-price at a flea market a few months ago. It’s dark; puddling, like... like a knocked-over glass of chocolate milk, spilled all over the kitchen table. Or, maybe chocolate syrup would be more apt. It doesn’t matter, though. You can always get a new rug. You know, if you make it out of this situation of yours intact and not in a dingy prison cell for homicide.
Hmm. You might be sorta kinda screwed.
The police, of course, are out of the question. No matter your side of the story, it wouldn’t hold up in trial. No, no, no. A foreigner murdering a Japanese citizen? Even if it was in self-defense, it wouldn’t matter. Forget prison—you’ll probably be hanged.
So, you could run… But you probably wouldn’t get far. Or, you could do what every naive murderer in the movie about karmic retribution does and try your darnedest to get away with it.
“Option two it is!” you quit pacing and announce to the room. Thankfully, the body doesn’t respond.
A weak knock at the door sounds off—a gunshot. Your heart stalls, your head snapping to the entrance of the apartment. Who the hell is at your door? The person at the door knocks a second time, a little bit more insistently, and you start to sweat. “Hello, is everything alright? I—I heard a scream.”
You step up to the peephole and squint. A mild-looking man shuffles his feet outside your door. It’s your next-door neighbor, bathed in the ugly yellow lighting of your apartment complex. He smiles like he knows that you can see him.
This… isn’t ideal. You could choose to not answer him, but that probably wouldn’t work. What if he called the police? You take a breath. “Everything’s fine,” you call out.
The man’s smile freezes in place, somehow more eerie than a frown; his hands burrow deeper into his pockets. “Oh!” he says. “Are… Are you sure?”
You turn away from the peephole, a little unnerved. “Yeah, why?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, but I heard a lot more than a single scream.”
A slow, dreadful feeling starts to seep into your gut. “Pardon?”
There’s a pause. You swallow.
“These walls are thin.”
Fuck. He knows. Oh God, he knows.
No—that’s impossible. You were the only one to scream. Yasuhiro… He didn’t get the chance to. So this is just a concerned neighbor checking in on you. Nothing more, nothing less. You can prove it, prove that you’re okay.
You open the door a smidge so that you can peek through, then step outside and shut the door behind you. Your neighbor, what’s his name again? Okkotsu, right? Okkotsu’s brows lift at the sight of you, then relax. He’s wearing a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweats that should probably be criminal in Japan. His eyes flicker up and down your frame. You suppress a shiver.
“Just a horror movie,” you broach, offering him a polite smile. “I’m an easy fright.”
Okkotsu pulls a hand out of his pocket to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. His gentle smile has dimmed. “I’m not sure I believe you,” he says in an apologetic tone.
You both notice the tremor that runs through your body. Nosy fucking neighbors and their lack of sense when it comes to minding their own business. You stare mulishly at the floor. His shoes are simple. Black; scuffed. His left foot taps once against the floor. Whatever. You don't have to answer to him. Gathering up your resolve, you start to speak. “Listen, Okkotsu-san,” you say but are cut off quickly.
“Is that blood?”
That makes you freeze, eyes glued to the floor. A cold set of fingers dips under your chin and gently lifts it. Your gaze meets his: two pools of an endless, starless night. It flickers to a spot beside your ear knowingly and you reach for it.
He’s right. Blood sticks to your fingers, not yet dry. Lurking in the crevice behind your ear. You missed a spot.
“Well spotted.” It’s fruitless to lie now. You know it, he knows it. Now it’s a matter of who’ll crack first.
“Are you… Are you injured?”
Physically? No. Psychiatrically? Well, you just murdered a man, so.
“I’m unharmed.”
Okkotsu blinks owlishly. “Is that so?” He murmurs curiously, tilting your head to the side to observe the blood staining your skin.
You readjust your head and mimic him, blinking slowly. “Okkotsu—”
“Yuuta,” he interrupts.
You blink again. For such a mild, polite-seeming boy, he really is quite rude. And confusing. And terrifying. And you kinda sort of want him to die. “Okkotsu-san” you repeat. “I think it’s best if you leave.”
Okkotsu Yuuta’s smile returns, and it’s dangerously innocuous. He breathes your name out like a question. Starless eyes wander to your front door, then go back to studying your own. “Can I come inside?” he asks, quietly.
Everything stills, even your heart. You’re not quite certain you’re alive, when you ask, dubiously, “The apartment?”
Okkotsu just smiles.
You let Okkotsu come inside.
Which is absolutely fucking insane, but you have a feeling that your neighbor’s worse off than you are, and that’s truly saying something.
You hear him lock the door behind you before you start. Silently, you lead him past your living room, past Tsukino Usagi flying down the sidewalk on the way to school—the start of another episode, then—past your browning house plant hanging from the ceiling, into your quaint kitchen.
It’s nothing special. A small green stove with two bunsen burners on top. A sink; limited counter space. A couple of peeling cabinets. Tied in together with a white backsplash, shifting colors with each flicker of the TV. To the side, a small table sits, with two mismatched chairs tucked into it.
Oh, and there’s the dead body, too. Practically dribbling blood, painting your discounted rug muddy red and the surrounding blue tile purple.
Okkotsu lets out a soft sigh. “What a mess.”
You consider him from the corner of your eye. “That’s what I said,” you frown.
He shrugs, still looking at poor, dead, Yasuhiro. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”
Yeaaaah. It’s true.
A giggle escapes you, the reality of the situation finally hitting you. “Fuck,” you whisper in between the giggles. “I’m fucked.” It’s true. Utterly and thoroughly—no condom used.
“Not yet,” you barely hear him say over the fracturing of your composure. This is impossible. You killed a man tonight, then showed a stranger the corpse. You’re an idiot. You’re a freak. You can’t hide a dead body. You really might as well bend over and get it over with. Fuck.
Hands gripping your knees, you struggle to catch your breath. When did you lose it? Ah, who cares? Dead. You’re dead. The noose is looped around your hollowed throat, tightening by the second. Perhaps there’ll be two corpses on your kitchen floor by the time the sun is up. Perhaps you should’ve just let him kill—
“Breathe with me,” Okkotsu mutters, right in front of you, long hands gingerly clutching your shoulders. Which is strange. You had no idea he got so close. His thumbs swipe up and down, around and around, and you are flummoxed. But Okkotsu is patient, his chest compressing and expanding with each measured breath, and you are compelled to follow him. Slowly, you come down from your panicked high. You let out a shaky breath, eyes sliding back to the imposing guest in your apartment. The other imposing guest in your apartment.
The body in front of you lays eerily still, impervious to your mini breakdown. It’s not purple, or rotting, or excreting out the last remaining fluids left in its underwhelming husk. It’s just—laying there. Laying, not lying, because it is no longer a breathing thing that rests; now an object to be placed. Dehumanized, in every way. Then again, what is dehumanization if not just another word for murder? What is murder, if not just the taking away of a person’s autonomy? Dead bodies can’t rest. It will never lie again.
The dead body lays.
And you wonder for how much longer you’ll keep your own autonomy.
When do the dead start to attract flies? Realistically, you know it can range from a day to a few days for a decomposing body to become…obscene, depending on the environmental conditions. It hasn’t even been a few hours. You doubt flies will start buzzing around any time soon. If you move to crouch down and touch it, it’ll probably still be warm.
The swipe of a thumb over your shoulder brings your awareness back to your neighbor.
“Why are you helping me?” You ask, wiping the tears that have beaded up in the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is steadier now, but you’re still trembling. That damn window is still open.
The hands on your shoulders release, and you look up to gauge his thoughts. He’s frowning. His eyes cloud, then sharpen: lightning against a black sky. “You need to get rid of the body, don’t you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you nod anyway.
“Then we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. I bet we’ll be done before dawn.”
He makes to walk away but you stay rooted to your spot, trying to figure out why this strange, strange neighbor of yours who makes friends with stray cats and tends to the apartment garden is willing to become an accomplice of murder for you.
“Okkotsu, are… Are you in love with me or something?”
Your neighbor stops, then snorts, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He turns back to face you. A soft pout lies on his lips as he skillfully evades your question with a request of his own. “Hey, if you’re gonna ask me something like that, why don’t you use my name next time?”
You don’t ask again.
You have far bigger problems than interrogating Okkotsu Yuuta, so you push it aside and stalk toward the body. Okkotsu joins you, and the two of you peer at the deceased man before you. It’s… Still. The blood has stopped its puddling; a thin line stretches the column of its throat. His throat was slit neatly, gracefully, like an act of love. It wasn’t one, but, maybe you gave Yasuhiro what he wanted, in a terrible, twisted way. How magnanimous of you.
Yasuhiro wasn’t an attractive man. Limp brown hair framing a slightly uglier-than-average face. At least he had the decency to close his eyes before his last, dying breath. They were blood-shot and wiry, the last time you saw them open. Bouncing haphazardly in its sockets like they couldn’t discern which corner of the room you stood in.
Okkotsu perks up at the sound of your harrumph. “What?” he questions you, and you slide your eyes over to him. Okkotsu Yuuta is distinctly pale, a trait that you’ve always noticed and have always sort of admired on him. It suits the subdued, yet haunted look he’s got going on. Black lashes feather the whites of his eyes, as well as the endless void of his irises. Yeah, he’s almost doll-like, in that gentle, haunting way of his.
“You’re creepier than the corpse,” you tell him instead and turn away, just barely hiding your smile. The laugh that rings out from him sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.
Just kidding. It actually sounds kind of sweet.
Okkotsu follows you to the bathroom, where you’ve grabbed pretty much all of your cleaning supplies. You stuff them in a bucket and he hauls it out of your arms, the two of you shuffling back to the kitchen.
“So how should we go about this?” You muse, staring at the body. The movies you’ve seen are the only reference you have for the disposal of dead bodies, but those usually end with the killer getting caught, so you’re not so sure about mimicking their methods.
“I’m not sure,” Okkotsu says, tilting his head in thought. “Severing his limbs without the proper tools would be difficult. I guess we could carry him and bury him somewhere unassuming—unless you have a car that we could use?” A quick glance at you confirms that you don’t. He rubs his chin, nodding to himself. “Right. A garden cart will do, then. We should check to see if he has any identifiers on him, first, though. Oh, and we can’t forget about the teeth. Do you have any pliers?” He turns to you casually, eyes widening at the sight of your awe.
Thin black brows furrow in confusion. “What?” He asks.
You blink. “Have you…ever…?” Your voice dies in your throat.
Thankfully, he gets it. “Oh. No! No, I’ve never murdered a person,” he denies, dipping his head and tugging the neckline of his plain white tee. A curious look crosses his face. “But I could,” he tacks on cautiously.
You hug your arms and give a half-assed shrug. You can almost feel the weight of a kitchen knife in your dominant hand; the quick, fluid motion of ending a life.
“Anyone could,” you acquiesce, dismissing the conversation. Okkotsu hums mournfully in return.
According to his ID, Yasuhiro Souta is a twenty-seven-year-old male who lives in Chiba. What he was doing tumbling through your window in the middle of the night is anyone’s guess. Well, he did tell you, sort of shakily before he made to lunge at you, that you were supposedly his Valentine for the night. How sweet!
Snip. You met him for the first time a little over two months ago. He dropped his wallet on the train, so you picked it up and handed it to him in a silly attempt to be a decent person. It resulted in the man refusing to let go of your hand for a solid five minutes. Yes, yes, what an adorable meet-cute! Snip. When you managed to pry your clammy hands out of his vice-like grip, it was your stop, and, oh, how fortuitous, it was Yasuhiro’s as well! He followed you off the train into a random coffee shop, and it was only when you got the help of the employees that he backed off, the doorbell chiming as the glass door swung behind his back. Snip.
You thought that was the end of it, and proceeded about your day, running errands for a few hours until you retreated home. It shook you up for a little, yes, but it was nothing too crazy. You doubted you’d ever see him again.
Snip.
You slice Yasuhiro’s ID with your scissors until it’s a pile of ashes.
Okkotsu’s on his knees, holding a pair of pliers to the light. Wedged between the metal lies a crooked tooth. He hums to himself, plopping the tooth in a ziplock bag. He wears a pair of green garden gloves he grabbed from his apartment; you’re wearing a matching set. The rubber’s a little too big for you, but you’re making it work.
It's as Okkotsu calmly adjusts the head in his lap, preparing to yank another tooth that you stare at your strange partner, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this situation. It’s been happening every so often: your acceptance of reality swinging in the opposite direction like the pendulum on a grandfather clock.
You shouldn’t have killed him.
You don’t care for Yasuhiro Souta’s life. You don’t care for the man who intended to assault you. But there’s not a chance in hell that this won’t get traced back to you.
You're fucked.
Why did it have to be like this? Why do bad things happen to good people?
That’s the way the cookie crumbles, darling.
And you crumble—crumbled—are crumbling when you turn to your neighbor. “Okkotsu-san,” you say, picking at your dirty nails.
“Yuuta,” the man insists. What a freak. He's a freak, and he's good, and you don't deserve it.
You take a deep breath, mulling over your doomed fate. It doesn’t have to be his, too. “You should get out of here. While you still can.”
There's an awkward pause. The strange man pulls out another tooth and plops it in the baggy. “There,” he says warmly, then draws to his full height. “Do you have a coffee maker?” You ball your fists around the plastic handle in your hands. Calm, calm, stay calm. “Did you hear what I just said?” You ask.
“Oh, I did,” Okkotsu hums. “I chose to ignore it.”
Your hands begin to shake as you repeat his words. “Ch—Chose to—”
Okkotsu says your name pityingly. “I thought we already had this conversation," he questions with pinched brows. “Why are we—”
“We?!” You interrupt, incensed. We. It's as if the curtains have been drawn open, allowing the rays of the illuminating, scorching sun to trickle through. It blinds you, and you have the urge to pull your eyes out and shove them down his throat. “You thought we? Who are you? You don’t know a damn thing about me!”
“I think I know a few things about you,” Okkotsu smiles sweetly, gesturing to the dead body in your apartment.
“Do you, now?” You laugh and toss your hands up to the ceiling. “Great! I have an idea!" You glare, the metal edge of your scissors catching the light. "If you know what I’m capable of, then you should get the hell out."
A pause. You pant, more worked up than have been all night and it's fucking ridiculous and you hate it. You want to choke—you want him to choke. On your blood-soaked fingers, preferably. He'd probably lick them clean.
Unaware of your depraved thoughts, Okkotsu’s lips pull into a frown. He sighs, running a ghostly hand through his hair.
“I’m not scared of you,” he tells you, quietly.
You hold your breath. “Maybe you should be.”
Your insufferable neighbor takes a step forward, that stupid frown still on his stupid doll face. “What’s your plan?” He prompts. “Do you intend to confess? To go to prison?” You shake your head slowly and he softens. “You don’t deserve that,” he says, like he really means it.
Why did you let this man into your house? Why is he offering you hope? It’s too much. The scissors slide out of all your fingers save for one; your limbs sag with a weariness that’s settled deep in your bones.
“You don’t know what I deserve.”
Okkotsu stops and considers you. Your chest heaves, your heart pounds, and you want out. You want out, and he can get out, and you don’t know… You don’t know why…
“If you want me to judge you, I won’t,” says Okkotsu.
You shake your head at his dismissal, your eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t judge you,” he continues, and there goes his cold, calloused hand again, gingerly tilting your chin upwards. The pair of scissors in your clutches drops fruitlessly to the floor. When you look up, there’s something like pleading in his endless, starless eyes. “Trust me,” he begs.
You shouldn’t. You know it with every fiber of your being that you should not trust Okkotsu Yuuta. The man who blinks like an owl and stares at you like you’re a mouse he can’t wait to swallow whole. Who blushes pink whenever you hold the elevator door for him. Who has cold fingers that cradle you so gingerly—who touches you like he knows you—who doesn’t cringe at the sight of dead bodies but gives a damn about a bit of blood staining the outside of your ear.
You shouldn’t. Trust him. But you—you feel as if he’s reached inside your chest and plucked out your pulsing, blackened heart.
“Do you love me?” You ask Okkotsu Yuuta again, heart throbbing in his hand.
His eyes don’t stray from yours. “Ask me again with my name,” he says quietly.
…You don’t know if you want to.
Releasing a breath, you push past him, snatch the ziplock bag from the floor, and stride towards the stove. “I’ll make coffee,” you say, already fiddling with the grinder.
Okkotsu lets you depart with a sigh.
“So what do you like to do when you’re not helping random people bury bodies?” You ask Okkotsu a couple of hours later. You stumble over a root in the dark, and Okkotsu’s quick to grab you by the waist and steady you. You continue, a bag full of your keys, water, pepper spray, freshly-bleached gloves, a burner phone that Okkotsu already had, for some reason, and two sets of clean clothes swinging against your back. You fidget with the shovel in your hands mindlessly, trying to get it to spin. A garden cart with a tarp draped over it creaks along the grass floor. The two of you have walked for who knows how long, but, according to him, you’re getting close.
The man beside you hums, surprisingly chipper for the nefarious activities afoot. “When I’m not busy, I like to garden and crochet. I also like making food for my friends from time to time,” he says in a simple, humble manner. The last part doesn’t surprise you. He’s brought you helpings of food on the most random occasions, showing up at your doorstep with self-proclaimed “leftovers” and shoving full plates into your arms with a velvety smile. That does beg the question, though…
“Have you considered us friends this whole time?” You squint at him in the dark, only the moonlight carving out the contours of his subtle, delicate features. You’re kind of surprised. You two made decent neighbors but only ever talked in short bursts outside your rooms. Your conversations rarely ever broke past polite mumblings about the weather.
Okkotsu pouts. “You mean, we’re not friends yet?” He asks, before breaking into a twinkling laugh.
“Shut up,” you bite, but you laugh too, lightly shoving at his arm. Okkotsu, bless him, pretends to stumble. It takes you a moment to suppress the heat burning the tips of your ears, but you do get it under control, eventually. “I meant… Before?”
His expression smoothens out before he gives a soft shake of his head. “No, not quite. But, I wanted us to be."
It’s quiet for a moment, nothing but the rustling under your feet and the ever-present, cacophonous sounds of nature. You spot a nest of sleeping birds tucked in between the branches of a tree and smile.
“Well,” you try to keep your cool, eyes sweeping over the forest's shadows, “Better late than never.”
It strikes you halfway to the burial grounds that Yasuhiro didn’t bring his phone with him to your apartment in his depraved, intoxicated state. He crawled up a tree, through your cracked-open bedroom window—conveniently avoiding cameras. So, once you’re done with this, you very may well be free.
It’s a terrifying notion, freedom.
“What about you?” Okkotsu asks you, something like ten minutes later. “What do you like to do for fun? Besides watch Sailor Moon, I mean.”
You bite your lip to keep from grinning. “Well,” you wonder aloud. “This is pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?”
Okkotsu lets out a little breath before he softly admits his agreement.
It rained earlier today, you forgot. The ground crumbles like clay when you swing the shovel into the ground. You and Okkotsu take turns making a grave, taking water breaks in between. There is hope alive in you, you realize, as the two of you work in tandem.
Yasuhiro Souta is lowered into the ground with all the dignity a dead man could possess. He lays atop a tarp and your old Persian rug. A stream rushes somewhere nearby, bubbling like blood, and you pray that the body will make good fertilizer. When your hand shakes, Yuuta grabs it.
You bury your clothes on the way back, a mile out. The sun peaks over the horizon.
When you return to your room with Yuuta in tow, your emotions overwhelm you: you are terrified and gleeful and sorry for all you’ve done.
It is mournfully quiet as you mop the purple tiles blue, bleach burning your nostrils and freshly scrubbed gloves. Yuuta’s left to clean the garden cart in the gardens. He returns shortly, though, offers you a small smile, and helps you scrub every inch of your apartment.
You scrub, and scrub.
And scrub.
“You’re beautiful,” Yuuta says to you when you’re in the middle of wiping your brow. You’re sitting cross-legged on your rugless kitchen floor, where a dead body once lay. Sweat clings to your skin in uncomfortable places and you reek of bleach. “Shut the fuck up and scrub, Yuuta,” you command.
Yuuta’s serene smile is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever seen before.
You could probably fall in love with him, you contemplate as you watch your neighbor make fluffy pancakes in the comforts of his own kitchen. If you haven’t fallen in love with him, already, that is. You doubt you’ll ever have a connection with someone as profound as the bond you share with the soft-spoken man who helped you bury a dead body.
Love, you marvel, in the span of a few hours.
It’s disquieting.
After multiple showers, and after Yuuta’s stuffed you with more pancakes than you can chew, the pair of you are lounging on his tatami mat, a much-needed change in scenery. You have like, three hours before you need to go to work, which, Yuuta agrees, is crucial to maintaining a veneer of normalcy. Which means this impromptu nightmare date will have to come to an end—as all good things do.
“I should probably get to bed,” you say after a lull in conversation.
Yuuta nods, reasonably. “That makes sense, yeah.”
“Got work in the morning and all that,” you continue in a nonchalant tone.
“Make sure your window’s locked.”
Fine. “Walk me out, will you?” You request. Okkotsu Yuuta, ever the gentleman, agrees, even though the front door is only a handful of feet away. He pushes himself off his knees and stands at full height, though his starless eyes are, as always, trained on you. You would probably find Yuuta’s full attention a little unsettling if you had not just slit a man’s throat that night.
You avoid his gaze all the same—stopping at his doorstep with your hands twisting at your sides. Yuuta stops beside you and waits patiently for you to string your words together.
You clear your throat. “Hey, um—”
“Hi,” Yuuta interrupts, and you smile, filled with the courage to go on.
“So, the thing is… Well, I probably wouldn’t have made it anywhere far without you. I acted quite amateur back there, you’d think this was my first dead body I was trying to hide, or something, ha. Um, so yeah, thank you—from the most sincere and vulnerable depths of my heart. I guess I’ll see you around? Okay, bye.”
A hand wraps around your wrist before you can run home with your tail tucked between your legs. Yuuta murmurs your name in a soft, dulcet tone, and you’re not certain you’re prepared to hear whatever he has to say. You turn to face him anyway, because, well, you owe him that much.
“Yes?”
“Don’t you have something to ask me?” He chides.
The pit in your stomach swoops. “Not that I recall,” you lie with a straight face.
“Try again,” Yuuta smiles sweetly, like a haunted little doll.
“It’s been a long day, you know—”
“Cold, I’m afraid.”
“My brain isn’t functioning at its peak—”
“Hmm, getting colder!”
“I don’t think I can.”
A pause. You avert your gaze and allow yourself to get analyzed by Yuuta’s doleful, starless eyes. “Hey,” he calls your name, asks you to look at him.
You look at him.
“Good," he hums.
You roll your eyes, loop an arm around his long neck, and drag him to you.
Okkotsu Yuuta tastes like the earth. From dust to dust, you are at the end and beginning when you capture his lips between yours. He responds quickly, hands digging firmly into your waist as he knocks you into his door frame, and you quickly learn what it means to be savored. You intended the kiss to be a quick, rash, thing, but he slows you down, melds into you languidly like you have all the time in the world. When he sucks on your bottom lip, you both moan, breaking apart for air. Yuuta slips his hands underneath your shirt, and for once, his cold hands burn, lighting the fire for something you’re not certain you’ll be able to finish.
“Go ahead and ask me already, love,” Yuuta murmurs into your ear. And, well, fuck. You melt. “Yuuta,” you whisper as he nips at your neck. “You love me, yes?”
At that, he bites down at the hollow of your neck. You gasp, then sigh when he instantly cools the wound with his tongue. “Obviously,” he replies, quite simply, thumb swiping delicately at your stomach.
“Great,” you gasp, and Yuuta looks at you and beams.
And, there goes your heart again, pulsing in his cold, calloused hands. Cradle it gently, Yuuta, won’t you?
fin. if u made it this far, ily
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Could we get some boyfriend Chuuya headcannons? <3
Boyfriend Chuuya Headcannons~
Absolutely! thank you sm for requesting!!
Warnings: FLUFF
Wordcount: 215
honestly hes so sweet. hes devoted his life to you
loves loves LOVES to spoil you. buys you designer clothes/bags/shoes, treats you to fancy dinner dates, buys you tickets to go so your favorite band, whatever you want he will get for you
loves to do fancy dates but also adores dates that are more intimate and personal? takes you out to picnic dates, or to a vintage store. also loves to do dates with you at home, like painting portraits of one another or cooking/baking together
actually pretty good at cooking, and LOVES to try making new recipes for or with you.
also likes to take you out for night drives, either on his bike or in his car. takes you to the nicest places with the best views.
when the two of you move in together his house is BARE. it is up to you to add any decorations
you guys have a show that the two of you watch, usually once a week (Sometimes you guys binge on weekends) and he loves it. he always gets everything all set up- fluffy blankets, extra pillows, snacks, everything.
really likes to do domestic things with you. taking bath's together, cleaning together, cooking, grocery shopping, it all makes him feel so loved
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HIII SOOOOO CAN YOU MAKE A SAIKI K FANFIC WITH AREN KUBOYASU X READER PLEASEEE????? FLUFF AND MAYBE SOME ANGST
OMG HIII YESSS
guys long time no see i haven't written in so long i had like no motivation
thank you for the request!!
Warnings: None!!
Wordcount: 558
It had been a while since Kuboyasu found himself in a fight. when he moved to PK academy he wanted to start a new life, and he had for the most part, but old habits die hard.
So when he found his weak friend Kaido getting harassed by some cocky 3rd years, he couldn't find a good enough reason not to fight them.
you'd reprimanded him more times than he could count, kindly of course, but in the moment all thoughts of everything disappeared, as they always did.
he knew he shouldn't be at your house, especially not this late at night. but it was just another thing he found himself not caring about. he threw a rock up at your window, once, twice, three times, before he saw your sleepy and slightly agitated face peaking out the window.
"Kuboyasu! What on earth are you doing here?" you sounded a little bothered, but at the sweet sound of your voice he instantly felt his tense muscles relaxing.
"Sorry...can I come in?" he whisper-yelled to you, and you sighed before moving out of the way so he could come up and climb through your window.
he pulled himself through, and he watched as you sat on your bed, rubbing your eyes. your PJ shorts had little dinosaurs on them, and looking at them made him smile. You finally looked up at him, and took in his looks. his hair was mussed, his part uneven. his glasses were long gone, bruises littering his face. you gasped, suddenly looking a lot less tired.
"K-Kuboyasu? did you get in a fight again? Seriously....you never learn.." you said. He could see the slight twinge of worry in your eyes even though you tried to cover it up with faux annoyance. he brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck.
"Yeah.." he muttered, looking away from you. you gently grabbed his arm, lazily pulling him into your bathroom. you pushed him down on the toilet, before rummaging around in your bathroom sink. You pushed your messy hair out of your eyes, tucking a strand behind ears. he smiled slightly- seeing you in such a domestic moment made him feel so at home.
you took a seat on the counter, gently taking his face in your palms. He tried to ignore how cute you looked in your sleepwear, and he felt a slight blush creep up his neck at the close proximity of you two.
"Your ridiculous...thought you wanted to leave fighting behind you?" you muttered as you gently dabbed at his face with rubbing alcohol. "I know your strong...but i can't help but worry.." you continued. Kuboyasu felt a twing of guilt in his stomach, and he frowned slightly. he flinched as you dabbed at a particular part under his eyes.
"sorry...." he murmured again. you clicked your tongue at him, but a small smile creeped up on your face nonetheless. you plastered a cute Hello Kitty band aid on his cheek before leaning in to press a soft kiss on it.
"So it feels better soon..." you muttered as you pulled away, your face red. he blinked for a second, before smiling up at you. he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek as well.
"for no reason...just felt like it." He said, smiling softly as he pulled away.
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yo guys
my requests are open
PLEASE REQUEST
i finally got my motivation to write back :))))))
preferably not persona 5...don't get me wrong i love it but i haven't played it in a while i don't feel inspired to write it.....please...
i'd really love to write some bungo stray dogs stuff so send requests my wayyyyy
ALSO!! please check out my fandom list before you request :) thank you
#anime#writing#persona 5#persona 5 x reader#ohshc#ouran high school host club#naruto#naruto x reader#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#bungo stray dogs#bsd#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#saiki k#saiki k x reader#death note#death note x reader#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#attack on titan#aot#attack on titan x reader#toilet bound hanako-kun#tbhk#tbhk x reader#hanako kun#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader
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Leviathan, the master of the seas.
If you like this art, it's already available in my shop! There are prints, t-shirts, notebooks, bags, phone cases, pillows and more here.
Inspired by this.
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BSD General Headcanons
ADA VERSION
I've been really into BSD as of late cus i had to rewatch it with my friend :3 GUYS I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER TO COME OUT
all requests are welcome!!! please read my rules first though, they were recently updated!
wordcount: 1198
Atsushi
Always tired, and it's pretty damn obvious. Has prominent eye bags, and he’s always huffing and sighing.
Has a nice singing voice. It's really clear and soft, and is nice to sleep to.
Hates reading, and isn’t very good at it. He only got to learn the basics at the orphanage. Reading reminds him of the orphanage anyways, so it’s not something he’s very fond of.
Likes to cook with kyoka, and they usually practise once a week. Sometimes, if they make a lot of whatever they were cooking or baking, they bring some to the agency to share.
One of those people who is loud with the people he trusts and quiet with people he doesn’t know well.
VERY VERY oblivious. To the point that most jokes go RIGHT over his head. Ranpo likes to tease him about it, and when he does, Atsushi gets confused about it.
“WDYM I'm oblivious? Wdym that was a joke? What?”
Dazai
So silly
Puts sauce packets on the toilet seats FREQUENTLY. Like once a week. The agency members have learned to start checking under the toilet seats, and even though no one falls for it anymore (except maybe atsushi) he still does it.
When he hears anyone talk about food he does one of two things: BEGS the person to give him some sort of food, and harasses/threatens them until they do, or orders food and proceeds to eat it right in front of the person, while making loud obnoxious comments on how good it is. If ANYONE asks for ANY he is rude as hell to them, and continues to silently glare at them while he eats.
Makes songs out of EVERYTHING. If someone stubs their toe, he’s singing about it. Someone dropped all their paperwork all over the lounge? He stands by and obnoxiously sings about the incident instead of helping.
Occasionally, when he sees that Kunikida is under a lot of stress or pressure, he will do his paperwork. It's still a couple days late, but he does it. And sometimes he does some cleaning around the agency.
Kunikida
Also loud and obnoxious, but in a different way.
CONSTANTLY stressing about stuff he doesn’t need to. People tell him to calm down but he never listens.
Has a #1 DAD mug that Dazai gave him when he got employee of the month.
Outside of work he enjoys drawing, but he rarely does it because of the tight schedule that is his life.
Has a soft spot for Atsushi, and has a sort of paternal relationship with him.. Sometimes if Atsushi begs, he’ll deter from his schedule and spend some time with him. Sometimes they go out for a walk, or they set up activities for the agency to go do as a group.
Ranpo
Hides in the agency bathroom like a highschooler, and plays games on his phone when he doesn’t want to do work, and doesn’t want to deal with people.
Spends a lot of time on the roof of the agency. Sometimes he brings some headphones and listens to some music, sometimes he just watches the clouds. His favourite is when the day is kind of windy, but just enough that it's a light breeze.
His favourite thing to do with the agency is board game night, and they meet up and do it about twice a month. He mainly likes it because he wins, but also just because he gets a little lonely sometimes living by himself.
When he’s tired he gets kind of delirious ....you know when you stay up so late that everythings funny? That's him, but like 4 out of 5 days a week.
Brings two bags a day to work: one filled with snacks, one filled with drinks.
Kyoka
Only really talks with Kenji and Atsushi
Admires Yosano and despises Dazai
Prepares coffee or tea for everyone in the morning, and knows exactly how everyone likes it.
Is actually TERRIBLE at cooking, so when she and Atsushi do it, he usually does most of the actual cooking. She is better at reading the recipe than him though.
A couple times throughout the year, she will try different hairstyles. She's completely against cutting it off, but not against learning some really complex braids. She's a quick learner, so it never takes her long.
On the topic of hair, Atsushi likes to mess around with hers sometimes, and usually just brushes it because he can’t actually do much else without knotting it.
She absolutely loves to go see fireworks with the Agency, because it was something she didn’t really get to do when she was younger. She sees the agency as her family, as weird as everyone is, and moments like that help her feel more connected to them
Her favourite member of the agency to spend time with one on one is Kenji, because they get along really well. He talks quite a bit, and she likes to listen, but he also knows when to be quiet. They go on walks a lot.
Kenji
Has a garden on the roof of the agency
Him and Dazai tried to convince Fukuzawa to let them get a pet for the agency. They got a cat that dazai picked up off the streets, and no less than a week later, they had to get rid of it because it was diseased.
Brings wounded birds to the agency frequently, which drives Kunikida off the walls, and he fixes them up on his desk.
His desk is slightly smaller than most of the other agency members, and it has three drawers: the first one is full of stuff for any animal he may come across. Little bandages and medical supplies for animals, treats, even little things he can use to make a bed out of. The second drawer has his paperwork in it, and his pens and what not. The third drawer is full of a whole bunch of microwaveable meals
Adding on to the drawer of microwavable meals, Kenji hates to snack, because it never fills him up. He prefers to just eat a whole meal instead of eating something small, but sometimes he will if he has to. He also prefers savoury food over sweet food, but doesn’t mind some sweet stuff sometimes.
Yosano
Gets along with basically all of the members of the agency
Dazai and her do wine tastings once a month. It usually ends with them just getting drunk
Helps Kenji with any wounded animals he brings in, and gives him tips and pointers on how to help them.
Her and Ranpo gossip A LOT, about literally anything they can get their hands on. They judge people A LOT.
“This girl asked me out yesterday. The one from the cafe. She's ugly, no offence.” “EWW YESSS”
Forces Atsushi to come shopping with her, and forces him to hold all of her bags. She usually brings Ranpo or Dazai with her as well, and asks them for their opinions on the things she buys.
Sucks at cooking, so usually buys food from a convenience store for lunches and dinners.
Also one of the few agency members who doesn’t mind working late.
#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd fluff#bungo stray dogs fluff#dazai#osamu dazai#dazai fluff#ranpo#ranpo edogawa#ranpo fluff#atsushi#atsushi nakajima#atsushi fluff
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hiii<3333 love ur work especially ur persona 5 works hope your request box is still open <33
can i request how akechi wedding would be and how domestic life will be ?
hope u have a great day (and happy late new years!!!!)
Domestic Life With Akechi
Goro Akechi
A/N: Guys I'm back?? sorry i was gone so long!!! finally have motivation to write again. Thank you so much for the request!
Warnings: FLUFFFFF
Wordcount: 497
definitely proposed to you, and refused to have it any other way. he had a plan, and their was no way he was doing anything else
it was really sweet honestly...so much bad stuff has happened in his life, he's ready for a break
made sure everything was perfect, and of course it was
probably took you to a flower field or somewhere the two of you could have some privacy
he's so used to having people fangirl over him, and sometimes he doesn't mind, but this is one of the few exceptions where he doesn't want anyone to interfere, or see it happen, really. he knew you'd probably like the privacy as well
not very awkward before and whilst proposing, but very much so afterwards. happy, but awkward nonetheless.
one of few times he actually gets flustered. he prepares this cute little speech, and he's not used to expressing that much emotion.
when you guys finally get married he is honestly so excited. he may not show it that much, but he really is.
again, everything is perfect. he's very organized about all of this.
also again, a cute private venue is where you get married. probably in a field with one of those white arch thingy's above you. a couple of your friends, your family, and maybe one or two of his friends. Akira probably end's up being best man, unless you have someone in mind.
you guys have a quiet but fun wedding, dance a bit, you know, the works.
he's not super romantic until you guys have some privacy, aka after the wedding.
he's uncharacteristically romantic, mainly because he never really saw a day like this coming, and he is truly so happy and lucky to have a s/o like you.
very sweet and kind of clingy. makes you food, and the two of you have a nice romantic night, ending it off with a nice bath.
now, when it comes to domesticity, its a lot of small stuff.
again, Akechi's not big on being physically affectionate, or even verbally. he usually shows you in acts, big or small.
he likes to make you breakfast when he doesn't have work, and prepare bath's for you after long days.
sometimes he'll pick up some stuff he knew you wanted or needed from the store and nonchalantly leave them on the counter for you.
does a lot of chores, and the two of you kind of have a little schedule for who does what and when.
also shows his love in the moments that the two of you have together.
he's pretty busy, but he always makes time to spend with you.
all of his dates are memorable or meaningful somehow, even if its just a visit to the jazz club. you always end up with a couple polaroid pictures or some little knickknack that the two of you picked up on your journey.
domestic live with Akechi is really calm and nice, and rarely is there many problems between the two of you.
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𝔊𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔟𝔶𝔢, 𝔈𝔯𝔢𝔫.- 𝔄𝔱𝔱𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔒𝔫 𝔗𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔫 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱
Attack On Titan Music Head Canons
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𝔚𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔪!- 𝔇𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫 𝔖𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱
Zenitsu x Reader
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𝔐𝔶 𝔑𝔦𝔫𝔧𝔞 𝔚𝔞𝔶- 𝔑𝔞𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔬 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱
Neji X Blind Reader
Neji x Reader drabble
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𝔗𝔬 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔇𝔬𝔤𝔰- 𝔅𝔖𝔇 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱
Fyodor x Reader Angst
Fyodor x Goddess Reader
BSD General Headcanons
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𝔓𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔞!- 𝔓𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔞 5 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱
Akira x Ice Skater Reader 1, Akira x Ice Skater Reader 2
Akira x Thin Insecure Reader
Yusuke x Reader Who Gives Surprise Hugs
Goro Akechi Dating Head Canons
Akira, Ann, and Akechi With A S/O Who Has A Rude Aunt
Yusuke X Reader With A Sore Throat
Piece By Piece - Goro Akechi X Reader
Goro Akechi With A Daughter
Chibi 1, Chibi 2, Chibi 3
Yusuke x Reader With Headaches
Goro Akechi Kissing Head Canons
Yusuke X Reader Who Makes Food
Yusuke X Tall Reader
Persona 5 Boys x Reader Who Lost There Family
Akechi and Akira x Reader Who Is Being Flirted With
Akechi and Akira x Reader Who Is Secretly Strong
Yusuke X Reader Soulmate AU
Akira x Reader With Hanahaki
Yusuke x Reader With Eating Disorder
Akira and Akechi x Singer Reader With Rude Ex
Akira x Reader x Ren Love Triangle
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