#yuuta fanfiction
Note
Hey! I saw that you’re writing for JJK characters - do you have a limit on your requests? I have some ideas!
My first one is yuta x sorcerer reader where they’re starting to develop romantic feelings for each other and reader begins to put themselves down by comparing themselves to rika (yuta is unaware they’ve been feeling this way)
Thank you!!🫶🫶🫶
Sypnosis - As odd as it was, you were jealous of a curse. But in truth, your own self-worth was to blame for the situation.
Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, RIka (I love her but she terrifies me)
A/N - I feel like this request would actually be me if I was at Jujutsu Tech, so thank you Anon for unknowingly making me feel very seen.
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
It all started when you slowly began to distance yourself from Yuuta.
"Hey, Maki!" Yuuta waves, jogging towards Maki with a smile plastered onto his face. His arm is lifted in a friendly wave, one that Maki returns as he makes his way over to her. "Quick question, have you seen (Y/N) anywhere? I've been looking all over and I just can't find her."
Maki hums in thought, the tip of her weapon tapping against her lip. She shakes her head shortly after, her shoulders lifting in a shrug. "No idea, I haven't seen her either."
Yuuta's face falls, an expression of worry overtaking the smile that had previously turned his lips upward. His fingers fidget with one another, nails scraping against the sides of his skin as worry crawls into his stomach.
"I'm sure she's just caught up with her own missions, that's all," Maki says reassuringly, taking a mental note of the concerned expression that had slowly wormed its way onto Yuuta's face. She reaches out, placing a gentle palm against his shoulder and squeezing, smiling at him.
He nods in agreement – there had been times where his missions piled up and he was left with little to no time to relax. Maybe you just so happened to be caught up in the same situation, it wasn't unlikely.
"Right, yeah," he mutters offhandedly, his gaze shifting to the floor. He stares down at his shoes for a moment, feeling the pit of worry in his stomach only deepen.
< ... >
"(Y/N)! Hey!" Yuuta smiles widely upon seeing you walking beside Inumaki. He lifts his hand in a wave, pausing as he notices the darkened expression on your face. Your eyes flicker away from him, and through the side of your mouth you mumble something to Inumaki before quickly departing.
Yuuta slows as he grows nearer to Inumaki, eyebrows knit together curiously. Already, you were halfway down Jujutsu Tech's front stairs, back turned to both Yuuta and Inumaki.
He watches as you leave, turning then to Inumaki, who also stares curiously at you. The sudden change in attitude was unlike you — and he’d be lying if he said that wasn’t curious as to why you acted out the way that you had.
“Is everything okay with (Y/N)?” Yuuta inquires, lifting his finger to his mouth, nibbling nervously on it. Just over his shoulder, Rika watches curiously, her head tilted slightly to the side in a mixture of jealousy and intrigue.
"Salmon," Inumaki responds, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.
< … >
Groaning to yourself, you catch your head as it falls into your hands. Laid out on your desk are your schoolbooks, none of which have anything written into them even though your original intention had been to catch up on the homework that you were missing.
But, of course, your mind had wandered elsewhere, too focused on a different situation entirely – your avoidance of Yuuta.
You hadn't meant to avoid him as much as you did, but it wasn't as if you could help it. Each and every time you did so much as look at him, she was right there to curl a protective hand around him, tugging him further and further away from you with every interaction.
Was it a little pathetic that you were comparing yourself to a Cursed Spirit? Maybe. But that didn't eradicate the fact that she actively kept Yuuta from doing anything with anyone – Maki was lucky to be within a five mile radius of Yuuta for training purposes.
Rika was protective – but it wasn't that fact that bothered you. What bothered you was the fact that, unlike Rika, you weren't able to protect or be there for Yuuta in the same way that she could. You weren't nearly as strong as she was, you were a measly Third-Grade after all.
You couldn't even keep up with your classmates – even Maki was too swift for you sometimes. Of course, there was always room to improve, but watching everyone else improve while you remained the same stung, like a fresh wound that you had just poured peroxide over.
Even with your lack of skill, your classmates still respected you like they would any other Jujutsu Sorcerer. Maki always made sure to offer her hand to you after training with you, Panda would offer you helpful advice when you ran the track with him, hell, even Inumaki would fix your form when you practiced your Cursed Technique.
And, of course, there was Yuuta.
He was the one to cheer you on during training, he was the one to help you patch whatever scratches your body sustained after lessons, he was the one to crack muttered jokes to you while Gojo lectured, he was the one to cut his lunch in half on the days that you had accidentally forgotten yours in your dorm – Yuuta had been there for you since the very beginning.
So then why did she make you as insecure as she did?
Rika was a curse, a manifestation of negative emotions. Her sole purpose is to protect Yuuta in situations where he's incapable of protecting himself. And even then, you had only really seen her in action once – and that was when she had lost control of herself watching Maki overpower Yuuta during a physical lesson.
You sigh to yourself, fingernails scratching against the sides of your head. A gentle sound rouses you from your thoughts, and it's then that you realize you had unintentionally started crying. You stare down at the tear marks that had fallen onto the pages of your notebook, smudging the lines and your writing.
You lift your fingers to swipe your tears away, already feeling pathetic at the fact that you found yourself crying over an issue that you genuinely had no control over. It wasn't as if you could exorcise Rika and suddenly all of your problems would have fixed themselves.
A knock at your dormitory door stops that thought before it can escalate.
"(Y/N)? It's me!"
Yuuta.
Quickly, you swipe your palms against your eyes, no doubt leaving the skin there red and irritated. Huffing in annoyance, you wipe the end of your shirt against your eyes, praying that he wouldn't be stupid enough to point out the obvious once you opened the door.
You stand from your desk, not bothering to push in your chair as you stride towards the door. On the other side is Yuuta, his lips pulled upward in that smile that always seemed to brighten everyone's day, no matter how dark it may have been.
You don't say anything, already feeling guilt seep into your bones. Even with you avoiding him constantly, Yuuta still came to find you. God, you felt like such a bitch.
"Hey," you say quietly, swallowing the waver in your voice and forcing yourself to smile at him.
"Hey. I – uh – noticed you've been distant lately. Is everything okay? Is there anything that you want to talk about with me?" Yuuta offers softly, wringing his hands out nervously in front of him. He did that often, mainly when he spoke to Maki. It was cute to you, how nervous he was.
"Oh," is all you manage to get out. Your eyes flicker away from his, instead watching as a group of students wander the hallways, turning the corner before vanishing from your line of sight. You know that Yuuta is still watching you expectantly, wanting you to say something but also not wanting to force you into an uncomfortable conversation.
No time like the present, right?
"It's a stupid issue, really. I wouldn't want to--"
"It's not stupid if it's you (Y/N)," Yuuta cuts you off, his cheeks immediately burning a bright shade of pink. He swallows quickly, lifting his hands and waving them back and forth. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to cut you off! But it's true!"
You stare in awe at him for a moment, your mouth dry as you stand silently in the doorframe of your dorm. Neither of you say anything for a second or two, staring at the other as if they had sprouted a second head.
"Sorry...how about we just talk, yeah?" Yuuta offers, his lips turning upward in another one of those smiles that melts your heart.
You nod, stepping to the side and permitting him entry. He walks past you, taking a seat on the small couch in your dormitory. He had been in there many times before, but recently, many of your little traditions had faded into nothing but little memories.
Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, tugging the skin upward before you release it just as you feel blood beginning to drip from the self-inflicted wound.
Hesitantly, you sit on the couch beside Yuuta, lifting your legs and crossing your ankles over one another. He waits patiently for you to start talking – the last thing that he wanted was to make you uncomfortable.
"I swear I didn't mean to be so distant," you begin. A buzzer sounds loudly in your head – liar. You continue anyway, ignoring the little nagging voice nestled in the back of your mind. "It's just, I don't know, I haven't felt great recently."
Yuuta remains silent, his hands folded in his lap as he watches you intently. He can feel his heart clenching at your words, how had he not noticed that you were suffering before?
"Why?"
"Because I'm not like you or anyone else. You all are special, you're all talented in your own way. Hell, even Rika is--"
You cut yourself off before you bite out an undeserved insult towards Rika. Your jealousy of her was strong, obviously, but you never wanted to verbalize that to Yuuta. What if then he turned his back on you too? Then you'd really be left with absolutely nothing.
"I just don't feel like I'm supposed to be here – at Jujutsu Tech," you finally admit. Internally, you cringe at just how childish your voice sounds, how it breaks between words and shakes as you bite back the sobs that rise in your throat.
You pause at the feeling of someone's fingers slipping into your own. Your gaze flickers down to where your hand had been resting on the couch, shocked to see that Yuuta had bravely reached out to hold your hand.
"You do belong here (Y/N). You're just as good a sorcerer as any of the rest of us, if not better. I mean, who else could take on Inumaki in a fight and stand a chance?"
Your lips quirk apprehensively into a smile. Yuuta smiles at the sight of it, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his fingers momentarily squeeze your own.
"I've always thought that you were the strongest," Yuuta whispers, talking as if he's sharing a secret that he wants only you to hear. Your cheeks heat at his words, eyes widening slightly.
"Really?"
Yuuta nods happily, squeezing your fingers again. "Yeah."
You find yourself smiling at him, feeling your heart warm at his sentiment. Suddenly, every single negative comment you had ever uttered to yourself fades into the void – replaced instead by the warmth that Yuuta's words had provided you.
"And I've always love-" Yuuta cuts himself off, pressing his lips together into a firm line before he's able to finish. You glance upward, already feeling your heart sink at the sight of Rika hovering behind Yuuta, her clawed hand resting on his shoulder. It feels like she's tempting him to finish, wanting to have an excuse to begin screaming and throwing a tantrum.
You retract your hand from Yuuta's grip, but amazingly, he reaches for you again. For the first time, he ignores the curse behind him, keeping his focus solely on you. Only you.
"Yuuta-"
"I've always loved you (Y/N). And I hate to hear you say that you think you aren't as strong as the rest of us because in all honesty, you're stronger than any of us could ever be," Yuuta explains, wincing as he feels Rika claw into his shoulder, but he continues to ignore her presence.
"If it wasn't for you, I don't think that any of us would be where we are right now."
Weirdly enough, you feel yourself tearing up at Yuuta's words, the burning sensation of tears blurring your vision, obscuring your view of Yuuta. He smiles at you, using his other hand to brush away the tears that just barely cling to your bottom lash line.
He opens his arms to you, smiling as you shift into them, pressing your face into his shoulder and allowing yourself to be wrapped in the warmth of his embrace.
"Thank you," you whisper, your voice caught by the fabric of his shirt, but he hears you all the same.
"You don't need to thank me for anything."
#colonelarr0w#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#yuuta x reader#yuuta okkotsu#yuuta okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuuta x reader#okkotsu yuuta fanfiction#yuuta fanfiction#yuuta okkotsu x you
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how they text…
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when they’re jealous.
pairings: gojo, geto, choso, megumi, itadori, yuuta, toji, sukuna x reader
warnings: wife is used in toji’s, for the most part everything is gender neutral, its literally just communication with yuji
these are fun to make ngl
masterlist | ao3
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thanks for reading!!
#fluff#jjk smau#text message#jujutsu kaisen ff#pls request#toji fushiguro#jjk x reader#fushiguro megumi#itadori yuuji#gojo satoru#geto suguru#sukuna ryomen#okkotsu yuuta#nanami kento#fanfiction#ff recs#fanfic#jjk fanfic#anime
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*･ﾟ✧ How the JJK characters show their love for u (love languages)
tags: multi character x reader, gn! reader, fluff, just overwhelming amts of fluff
word count: 1.3k
a/n: im starting off with some fluff, bc they all deserve some soft loving <3
⋆｡˚ ♡ PHYSICAL TOUCH: light squeezes of your hand, hugs from behind, leaning on your shoulder on the train, holding your wrist while you walk together, no matter what their hands are on you. they just love you too much to keep away from you, can you blame them? the feeling of you against their skin makes them feel happier than they could ever expect, even when they're coming across as clingy sometimes.
nobara will tug on your sleeve until you oblige and follow her around the mall, your hand either taken by your girlfriend's or the brightly colored shopping bags she'd acquired over your trip. some for her, some for you, because she was just dying to put you in some of the shirts she'd seen around the mall. and she's smile and kiss your cheek when you went with her requests with no fuss
yuuji will take no liberties in picking you up at any point. greeting you? you're up in the air before you can say 'hello'. god help you if you even mention being tired, because he will carry you in his arms without a moments hesitation, holding you close to his chest and claiming he can't in good conscious let you walk while tired! as your boyfriend, its his job to take care of you
gojo will never ever hesitate to embarrass you with how doting he can get. dramatically gasping whenever he sees you in his kitchen making a snack and rushing over to you, pressing kiss after kiss to your face and squeezing you while praising the heavens he's able to see you today, ignoring how you turned your face away and whined at him to lay off
⋆｡˚ ♡ WORDS OF AFFIRMATION: with someone like you, how do you expect them to keep their mouth shut? they can never get enough of the way you blush or laugh at their compliments, or their daily vows of love. "you're a great cook, dear." if you made them a meal, or fawning over how great you look today, despite you being dressed in loose pajamas with a messy bedhead. they need you to always know how in love they are, constantly.
sukuna, surprisingly, can offer quite a few bits of praise to you through the day. while you may have to pause and figure out his wording to actually receive a compliment at times, that doesn't change how he'll always show his approval of you in his own way. he never fails to acknowledge your effort in something, patting your shoulder and congratulating you on whatever you did.
nanami is always straight to the point when he speaks, wasting no extra time to dance around a subject and often being more blunt than necessary with his words. and that carries over to how he loves you, of course. kissing the temple of your head, murmuring about how lucky he is to be with you, brushing hair out of your face while you lean in for a proper kiss.
⋆｡˚ ♡ GIFT GIVING: plastic charms, figurines, hair clips, clothes, jewelry, stuffies, flowers, games, they're never ending. you're never not on their mind, so it's really impossible for them to be out and about without seeing some beautiful roses in a shop window and not hesitate at all with buying it for you. a single off handed comment about how you're a fan of something, and suddenly your arms are full of different kinds of merch. you've had to reorganize your room countless times to fit everything they've gotten you in there, and you're starting to look like a hoarder. but, it makes them happy, so what choice do you have?
getou could plant acres of flower fields with how much roses he'd gotten you. you can't even remember when you'd told him your favorite flower, the innocent seeming question still forcing you to fill up vase after vase of beautifully picked red roses. the amount of times getou had shown up to your door, hands behind his back with a smile plastered over his face at your weary sigh. "what did you get now, sugu..." "i don't have a clue what you mean, my love."
maki will take the extra step and take you with her when she gets a gift idea, finding the way you'd fret over her funds as she casually bought you yet another scarf she caught you eyeing much cuter than surprising you with it. this happens so often that she's caught you snapping your head forwards when letting your eye linger on something too long, making her laugh and peck your cheek before snatching it up before you could notice.
⋆｡˚ ♡ QUALITY TIME: quiet nights, spent curled up next to each other simply enjoying the others presence. sitting next to you while you play your favorite game, throwing occasional questions at you and smiling when you eagerly answer them. sometimes they get sheepish at how in love they are, that you simply being there makes them feel happier than anything. but when you're cozied up next to them, snoring softly against their chest, they can't seem to care too much about anything else
megumi is the king of silent time together, claims it helps him study and plan for missions when nothing is happening around him. and while that's true, often times he will replace 'feeling lonely and wanting your company' with 'studying for an exam'. he's sure you aren't aware of what he truly means when he asks to come over though, even when he shows up with no textbooks or notes to 'study from', and immediately goes to cuddle up against you when you usher him inside your room.
choso is..very clingy lol. always following behind you wherever you go, sitting next to you with a soft smile even as you aimlessly scroll through your phone. he's so silent that you've forgotten his presence entirely a few times, yelping when you hear a low sigh or a shuffle of his hand against your own. you felt a little exposed at first, always being under surveillance by him, but you adjusted pretty quickly and accepted his way of affection.
⋆｡˚ ♡ ACTS OF SERVICE: call it a hero complex, but they just adore being your knight in shining armor. holding the door open for you, finishing an assignment for you after learning how stressed you've been recently, wrapping their coat around you when it gets too chilly out, making your favorite meal just because they could. why should you have to do things when they're right there?
toji, despite having cast away his family name, was still raised by a traditional family. which meant he'd assigned himself to any hard work that needed to be done. plumbing, cleaning, repairing of any kind, he was on it. at first he did it out of habit, used to being forced to pick up any chore that others didn't feel like doing. but over time, the way you'd thank him and hug him tight when he did something for you made his heart melt. nowadays, he almost gets giddy when he hears your frustrated mumbling from across the room, happy to help you yet again with whatever you needed.
yuuta is really the sweetest thing... he's always ready to help you out, no matter how small the issue is. the mornings are his favorite, though, watching your chest rise and fall peacefully while sunlight slowly made its way across your sleeping form. he loves being able to tidy up your room and get breakfast ready for you while you peacefully sleep the sunrise away. he'd turn his head towards the hall as he heard your footsteps shuffle closer to him, a blanket draped over your sleepy figure as you greeted him.
inumaki, even with your reassurance, still feels guilty at times for not being able to talk with you how you're used to. deciphering rice ball ingredients in response to you asking when his is birthday isn't the simplest task, unfortunately. so, he always makes sure to show his love through simple tasks he can do for you. keeping extra snacks in his bag for when you get hungry during class, handing you his umbrella if he notices the sky beginning to dribble on your way home, even when you insist he keep it. he doesn't mind the rain if it's with you.
#jujustu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk drabbles#choso x reader#toji x reader#gojo x reader#megumi x reader#yuuji x reader#nobara x reader#nanami x reader#getou x reader#inumaki x reader#maki x reader#yuuta x reader#jjk scenarios#jjk fanfiction#sukuna x reader
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「 THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE 」
synopsis: the ways that they show their love
— characters: gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, okkotsu yuta, nanami kento
— contents: fluff, a lil bit of angst and comfort in nanami's, gn reader
part two | masterlist
GOJO SATORU ➽ words of affirmation & gift-giving
This man is rich. Plain as day, there is no doubt about that. There is nothing that Satoru won't do to go to the ends of the earth to get you. The number of times you would receive gifts from this man would have Ieiri, Utahime, and even Mei's eyes widen in horror. And maybe even perhaps jealousy—to see a man so high up his ass so utterly devoted to his partner.
His mornings and afternoons would often be spent teaching his young students at Jujutsu Tech, but it didn't stop him from diving into a whirlwind of activity, all stemming from his blatant infatuation with you. Whenever he had the chance, perhaps luring his students for a "trip" with the promise of going to Roppongi, he inevitably found himself scouring the markets for any trinkets that caught his eye. But who could blame him? After all, they were virtually beckoning him to buy it for you—a delicate necklace, a quaint keychain, or a colorful bouquet of wildflowers. Each item held a piece of his heart, a token of his affection waiting to be shared with you and only you.
Satoru wasn't deterred. Hell, he was hardly even fazed by the indifferent stares or the murmurs of disdain that often followed his well-meaning gestures—mostly by his colleagues, probably thinking he was processed by a cursed spirit, God forbid, but I digress. Love wasn’t just a word to be said but a sentiment to be expressed through actions, however small or grand they may appear. But if that was what Satoru really thought a relationship was, then God may as well have struck him down at that moment. It didn't matter what people thought of him or even what material possessions he bestowed upon you; you're his entire world and don't deserve any less.
To be able to feel pampered by his kindness and love through gifts. It warmed your heart to know how special you really were to him. Satoru may be rich, but he also knows about the superficial aspects of a relationship and tries to avoid them. But in the end, if that’s what you want, he'll do whatever it takes to make you happy. All he wishes for is your happiness and nothing more. As the strongest sorcerer in the world, Satoru knows he has a lot of power, and he is willing to put that all on the line for you to flourish. The man, to the surprise of no one, had a knack for flirting, effortlessly winning hearts with his smooth talk and irresistible charm. He can even be a flirt at times, for sure, but Satoru despised that label. To him, it's his way of showing that he is all yours. He's a tease who knows how to use his words to woo you—though it can sometimes be a bit much. You know that what he's doing is just trying to cheer you up.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI ➽ acts of service & words of affirmation
From the very beginning of your relationship, moments of vulnerability and intimacy were always scarce and few in between. He would never do or say something that you were uncomfortable with. He respects your boundaries and expects the same in return. Megumi, quietly and reservedly, sometimes has trouble articulating his thoughts. His words often fall short of capturing the depth of his feelings. Yet beneath this rock-solid exterior lies a heart that yearns for your happiness above all else—even his own. His emotions are conveyed not through words but through subtle gestures and actions veiled behind his typical stoic demeanour.
As much as Yuji and Nobara would tease him for it, their jests and blatant remarks were all rooted in good faith. Because in the end, when they would see just the way that he would gaze at you and how he would constantly be attentive to your well-being during missions—contrary to popular belief, not smothering you with overprotectiveness but ensuring that he's always there to support you—they would realize how committed Megumi really was. They understand that Megumi's silence speaks volumes. Gojo, for one, would disagree and instead say he was "utterly and completely smitten" with you, his eyes seeing the world through rose-colored lenses, but if that is the case, then so be it.
When he extends a hand to help you out, whether it's on a mission to exorcise cursed spirits or simply going through the strains of daily life, it's a gesture that speaks volumes. To you, his short and sincere words were his way of showing that he cared. He is your protector, and he will ensure you know this about him. You don't have to lift a finger; he's already on it. His presence alone makes your cheeks flush pink.
OKKOTSU YUTA ➽ quality time & physical touch
Yuta cherishes the intimacy of being close to his loved one, especially when it's with you. Throughout his life, he's often felt isolated and disconnected from the world around him. Having someone he's genuinely close to fills his heart with a sense of completeness. And to him, you are everything—his entire world.
Quality time, to Yuta, means all the time—whether you both are on a mission, training, or even just together in the classroom, you best believe that Yuta will be following you around like a dog with its owner. But he doesn't do it just because it's expected. He knows his strength and wants to protect you no matter what. And if he can't find you? Without a doubt, Yuta will be deploying all of his nerves and anxiety to the forefront of his very being to see you.
You understand that, after all the trauma that Yuta's been through in his life, that is what makes up his anxieties. The scars of his past linger and still continue to haunt him—those memories of loss and loneliness. It's a burden he carries with him always, and that hurts. But unbeknownst to you, your presence alone healed him far more than any reverse cursed technique could. It would heal physical injuries, but internal ones? That was all you—the solace in his once dark-lit life.
Yuta's love language becomes evident. Not even the most oblivious people could look at the way Yuta looked at you and assume it was anything other than pure adoration. It's in the gentle brush of your hand against his, the comforting warmth of your embrace, and the way you lean in just a little closer when you speak, just to be able to hear him a bit more clearly. His affection is expressed through subtle touches and lingering gazes. He loves you, and you love him—just the way he is.
NANAMI KENTO ➽ quality time & words of affirmation
Straight up, he's one of the more mature men out there. Nanami is stone-cold, but he is painstakingly thorough in his care in practically everything he does. He can be a workaholic at times, for sure, but he knew what would become of him if that was all that he did. Despite his dedication to his work, he always made a conscious effort to prioritize his relationships and to nurture and cherish the time he had with you. He wanted for both you and him to live a proper and healthy life. Whether you were just feeling off about yourself or going through a tough time, Nanami would be right by your side in a matter of seconds to comfort you.
If he were at work, he would drop everything he was doing, call you directly on his cell phone regardless of the weird looks he was getting from his colleagues, and immediately put on his jacket and drive to where you were, only to see you alone in your shared home curled up on the couch, and that made him angry—more than that. But he knew that, above all else, he needed to comfort you, and perhaps, even himself…
No questions would be asked of him, as he would then lift you up in his arms and reassure you that you didn’t have to tell him now but that he was here for you and would always be. He'd then take you somewhere in hopes of taking your mind off whatever was haunting your thoughts because, in his mind, you didn't deserve that burden while he could help. Even just his words alone would soothe your troubled mind. Every action and gesture he made to guarantee your well-being demonstrated his undying dedication to you. And if those words weren't enough, Nanami would drop everything and show his love through quality time spent together. Whether it was a quiet evening at home or a leisurely stroll through the city streets, he cherished every moment shared in your company.
You cherished having him by your side, and you wouldn't have it any other way. And it didn't matter to him if you were feeling down or struggling with something, down to the littlest thing. And it didn't matter to him if you thought it was troublesome to tell him.
Because he always knew what to say.
©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#fanfiction#fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jujutsu kaisen angst#gn reader#fluff#headcanons#angst#scenarios#comfort#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#okkotsu yuta#yuta okkotsu#yuuta okkotsu x reader#fushiguro megumi#fushiguro megumi x reader#nanami kento#nanami#nanami x reader
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— Pairing: Yuuta x Reader, established relationship
— General info: 18+, one-shot, smut
— Summary: When it comes to Yuuta, “just the tip” is the start of a dangerous game.
— Content warnings: nsfw, unprotected vaginal sex, virginity loss, implied religious guilt, mild god complex if you squint, coercion, slight breeding kink.
— Notes: Honestly, I wrote this just to see if I could still write decent smut (and Yuuta fits the trope perfectly ugh, I can't lie). Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Happy reading!
Links: Read on AO3 | Masterlist
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. You promised each other you would wait. But an innocent kiss on the cheek while watching TV led to a sloppy makeout session on the sofa, with your legs on either side of Yuuta's lap and your clothed cunt grinding needily onto his crotch as his fingers crept under your shirt and dug into your waist.
A whine escapes your lips when he involuntarily thrusts his hips upwards, meeting you halfway, desperate for further friction.
“My God, Yuu,” you moan into his mouth, as your combined drool trickles down your chin.
“‘M sorry,” he mumbles, yet makes no effort to hold back. Because little by little, with every movement of your hips, his erection has become downright painful. It's practically throbbing in the confines of his jeans, swollen and red, aching to be let out, begging for relief.
But he promised.
It's a mental game to come down to his senses and draw an end when things get too heated between you. God knows you haven't one ounce of willpower when you're spiraling down a lustful haze. But he'd rather be the stronger one than risk the loss of your virtue ending in remorse.
He loves you too much to force you to carry such an immense guilt. You vowed to wait until you were married and instead settled for a few steamy moments here and there — always sure you never made it too far.
You could hump and whine and he'd swallow every sweet sigh you pour into his mouth — as long as you never fully undressed and as long as he didn't ruin you by pushing himself between your legs. Then he'll wrap his arms around you, assuring you that whatever you did was still innocent, that you have no reason to feel guilty because you're both still pure.
The vicious cycle never ends.
You're incredibly precious to him — you're everything — but man, it really pisses him off sometimes that he has to be the one to protect a promise you were the first to suggest.
He brings a hand to collect your hair and nip at your neck, kissing it, tracing its slope with his tongue and sucking fervently at the supple skin. As if that's enough, as if it could compare to the glowing promise that being buried inside you represents. His cock twitches at the thought, the movement causing you to expel another string of holy affirmations.
His eyes land on the hand that grips at the fabric of his shirt as you whimper into his ear and the air thickens with the scent of spit, sweat, and desire.
The engagement ring on your finger has become a symbol of dread. So close to having you bound to him forever, and yet the time couldn't come fast enough.
His chest rises and falls dramatically with every shallow breath. It's all too much — the blood rushing south, the precum he can feel leaking from his tip and soiling his underwear, the line of sweat that transfers from your forehead to his as you squeeze your eyes shut and breathe against his mouth — it's all too good.
But it's not enough.
He's tired of it, and you're not making things easier with your pathetic whimpers and your feverish body clinging to him. He can feel your pussy clenching around nothing through the layers of clothing dividing you. If he didn't know any better, he might’ve thought you wore a skirt on purpose to further drive him mad. He might be a patient man —loving, understanding, doting— but he's still a man.
“Just the tip,” he groans.
Your hips slow down as you struggle to comprehend what he just said, earning him a chance to will the cum threatening to spurt inside his jeans back.
“What?” you ask, tilting your head as you observe his blown pupils and his eyebrows upturned in desperate pleading.
“Just the tip, please.”
Your lips part to draw a sharp breath as it dawns on you what he's asking for.
“But we promised,” you softly pronounce.
“It won't change anything if it's just the tip,” he promises. “It's barely anything. It'll be like the time you used your hand.”
He hopes your mind is too dizzy to comprehend that the two situations don't compare at all.
Uncertainty casts over your features, but he can see a hint of consideration gleaming in your eyes at the idea.
You'd be lying if you said you never considered loosening up on your convictions every now and then when you got so close to the act. But you didn't think you could handle disappointing Yuuta by breaking the promise you brought up in the first place. After all, he's so devoted to you and he promised to abide by your wishes no matter how long it took because the gratification when you finally joined in carnal pleasure would only make your commitment to each other all the more special.
“As long as I get to be with you, the rest doesn't matter,” was what he said.
But now that he's looking up at you with such helpless eyes, like you're some sort of god he prays to, your morals take a toll.
His blue eyes stare adoringly into yours.
“Please?” he asks again.
He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“Please,” he insists, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth, biting down just hard enough to cause a whisper of pain before alleviating the feeling with his tongue.
“Please, please, please, it hurts,” he whines, tears lining his lashes and threatening to spill as he reaches between you to palm himself over his jeans. “I can't take it anymore. I'm begging you, I need you, I love you.”
How could you possibly say no when he asks so nicely?
You'd have to be made of stone to deny him the pleasure. You'd have to be a monster to not relieve him of his throbbing pain. You'd have to be the cruelest god to impose him with such inhumane punishment.
“Yuu,” you whisper, his pain reflecting on your face upon witnessing his desperation.
“Please,” he sniffles.
“Okay.”
The word falls over him like a fresh breeze.
“Really? You mean it?”
His lips curve into an eager smile, with butterflies fluttering in his stomach in anticipation.
You nod, happy to see his teary eyes light up.
“Just the tip.”
“Just the tip, I promise.”
He brushes away at his tears with the heel of his palm.
“You're an angel,” he murmurs as he cradles your face with one hand and starts guiding your hips over his erection again with the other.
Soon enough, you're back to panting into each other's mouths, feverish and dizzy at your new promise to fulfill.
Your hands fumble to undo his jeans, clumsily pulling down the zipper in fragments.
“Just the tip,” you huff, as he moans upon feeling your clammy hands palm him through his underwear.
You pull on his briefs just enough for his erection to spring free.
“Oh, god,” you exhale, in awe of the intense red that consumes the head of his cock. Precum oozes from the tip, balls heavy as if he's seconds away from bursting. It's no wonder he looked so pained.
“Just the tip,” he reminds you kindly as he pets your hair, heart rate spiking when he watches your thumb trace over his leaking tip.
He flips you over so that you're pressed onto the sofa while he hovers over you and hooks his fingers around your pink cotton panties, tugging them down your hips with ease and tossing them onto the floor, leaving you in your skirt.
The sight of your bare cunt — already a sopping wet mess from everything that now counts as foreplay — makes his cock twitch.
With his weight balanced on one forearm, he carefully drags himself between your folds, the most sinful sound reaching your ears as he coats his length in your juices. His free hand cradles your face as he bends down to capture your mouth in a heated kiss. His tongue pushes against yours, swallowing each of your moans as your hands lose themselves in his raven hair.
With fingers trembling in excitement, he lets you go and starts lining himself to penetrate your insides.
“Yuu,” you gasp.
He watches in fascination as his reddened tip squeezes in and slowly disappears inside you, your cunt glistening with enough arousal that you barely feel any pain in the sudden stretch. In fact, Yuuta swears he can feel you suck him in the tiniest bit further as you flutter around the foreign member in your body. He can feel himself grow weaker as he's hit with the warmth and wetness of your insides.
“Fuck,” he hisses, face dropping into the crook of your neck.
The overwhelming ecstasy of knowing he's connected to you burns at every inch of his skin as he scrambles to gather enough strength to pull out and push his tip back in again.
You writhe under him, hands frantically pulling him in for a kiss. He complies. After all, you've gifted him with this — not that he wouldn't give in to your wishes otherwise.
His brows furrow in concentration, eyes squeezed shut with the image of his tip swallowed by your insides flashing behind his eyelids. He pumps his head inside you — in and out, in and out — mesmerized by how good it feels even if it's barely a taste.
It alleviates him… just a little.
He grips your hips with bruising force, rolling his hips further into you all at once, leaving a mildly burning sensation in its wake.
A whine escapes your lips and your eyes close as you feel a tickle of his pubic hair brushing against your lower tummy. Your arms hook under his, bringing him close, scratching his back over his shirt.
An animalistic power washes over him, pushing him to penetrate the deepest part of you, over and over again. His hand squeezes your face, demanding your attention and forcing you to meet his crazed gaze. His pupils are blown with lust, the gentle blue of his irises nearly gone. With the help of his thumb, he pries your mouth open, aggressively pushing his tongue against yours, relishing in the muffled cries of pleasure you release.
The kiss is so needy, so aggressive, it's borderline painful and your jaw hurts from the tight grip of his hand. But it's still so fucking good.
When he pulls back, your eyes are lined with tears, much like his when he was begging to let you use just his tip minutes ago.
The sound of slapping skin echoes around you. Sloppy, wet, sinful.
“Yuuta, this doesn’t feel like just the tip,” you heave, feeling an unfamiliar knot tangling in your lower stomach.
“It is, baby. I swear.”
You both know he's lying but you're too caught up in each other to care.
Your legs wrap around him, barely granting him enough space to move, but he doesn't care. This is better, this is what he needs to relieve the mild guilt that stems from lying to you, because this means you're just as thrilled by him ruining you as he is. And if you're so unwilling to ease your hold on him, he might as well kill two birds with one stone tonight and fill you to the brim with his cum.
The possibility of knocking you up has him reeling. A breathless laugh pushes past his lips as he looks down at you.
You're such a pretty mess and he's so in love. Your pussy does such a good job at sucking him in and he's so fucking drunk on it.
The image of you sprawled below him, sweating and whining out his name will be burned into his memory forever. And you do have forever promised, he remembers. That ring on your finger — the very finger on the very hand that's creeping between your bodies to toy with your clit — stands as proof.
You perverted little thing, he thinks, as he feels you bucking your hips upward to meet his thrusts halfway.
“Yuuta, my god, oh my god!” you whimper as his strokes grow even sloppier and he grows even heavier on your body.
“Feel good, angel?” he taunts, using the nickname he imposed on you back before you became such a needy disaster.
An airy chuckle bubbles up his throat when you fervently nod and caress his cheek. He hooks an arm under your leg, pressing it further into your chest in a semi-mating press position.
He carelessly thrusts his hips a few more times before he's washed over with a glorious relief that he pours inside you, marveling at the way your insides flutter around him, milking him dry with every wanton squeeze.
It's like you want to get knocked up, he thinks.
His hold on your leg loosens and his weight tumbles down on top of you as you work your way to clarity.
He moves around on the limited space of the sofa so that you can snuggle into his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around you as he presses soft kisses onto the crown of your head.
You can feel his cum leaking from your insides and seeping into the couch cushions, but it'll be a while before either of you care to clean up your mess.
His warm embrace coaxes you to sleep. As you're teetering the line of peaceful slumber, a familiar thought pops into your head.
“Yuuta,” you murmur.
“Hm?”
“What we just did wasn't wrong, was it?”
He looks down at you, fingers lifting your chin so he can see your face. Your eyes are wide with worry. The duality with which you're able to confront these matters will forever be a mystery to him.
His gaze softens and a smile graces his lips.
“Don't worry, angel. This was innocent.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead.
“It's pure love.”
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#yuuta x reader#yuuta smut#yuuta okkotsu x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#yuuta okkotsu x you#yuuta okkotsu smut#okkotsu yuta x you#okkotsu yuta smut#jjk smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfiction
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[ ʏᴜᴛᴀ ᴏᴋᴋᴏᴛꜱᴜ ] ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱ, ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱ, ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱ ʙᴏʏ
summary: yuta is jealous of his replacement—your stuffed animal
cw: fluff, established relationship, comical jealousy
note: i had to write something for my fav anxious boy
word count: 652
jujutsu kaisen masterlist // main masterlist
YUTA OKKOTSU NEVER HAD ANYTHING AGAINST DINOSAURS UNTIL TODAY.
Sure, they were cool in the weird way you would find deep sea creatures cool, but he didn't have a particularly strong opinion about them.
Until today.
In all honesty, it's a trap of his own making. He was the one that had won you that plushie at the night festival after all, but that didn't make it any less annoying.
Yuta had come back from his latest way-too-long way-too-far overseas mission and had been dead tired. So, when you suggested to simply cuddle as he caught up to some much-needed rest, the black-haired boy happily agreed.
Except he was wide awake right now, and all your attention and affection seemed to be directed towards the dark green dinosaur plushie in your arms instead of him.
The two of you were about as physically close as you could get��your back against his chest, legs tangled together, and his face buried in the crook of your neck, with one arm lazily thrown over your waist.
And it still wasn't enough.
You were leisurely scrolling through your phone, the sound muted to make sure it didn't disturb Yuta (a nice sentiment even if he wasn't actually sleeping), and your free arm wrapped around the stuffed animal.
You'd grown pretty fond of it, jokingly naming him Yuta Jr. with the thought that he was supposed to be your boyfriend's replacement as he went on overseas missions that he got assigned more often than either of you liked.
Yuta knew this. In fact, he'd laughed as he felt his ears go red when you'd hugged the animal to your chest and claimed it was your child.
He'd seen the dinosaur in the background of your many, many video calls and selfies.
Back then he thought it was endearing. Back then he was happy that you kept something that reminded you of him so close.
Now he just wanted to chuck the thing across the room.
Maybe even throw it away if he could formulate a plan where you didn't notice its absence.
Now, Yuta isn't stupid, he knows that being jealous of a stuffed animal of all things is childish but that logic doesn't seem to quell the annoyed feeling in his chest.
He's been trying to find a way to get rid of the damned thing for twenty minutes.
Yes, he has been pretending to sleep for twenty minutes now. It's pathetic—he's all too well aware of the fact—but it just gives him even more reason to be discreet about his jealousy.
How was he supposed to look you in the eye and tell you he was jealous of a stuffed animal (that he'd won for you) when the two of you had spent months apart without concern?
Eventually, he just lifts his head, midnight black locks brushing against your face. "What're you watching?"
You turn slightly, placing a quick peck on his cheek. "Tik Tok," You reply plainly, "You done sleeping?"
Yuta lets out a soft hum, burying his face in the crook of your neck again, this time to place soft kisses on the sensitive skin.
You let out a quiet giggle at the feeling, turning a little towards him. The boy grins against your skin, turning you until you're completely under him.
He grins at his small victory, prying the plushie out of your arms and letting his entire body weight on top of you.
You laugh at the way the tiny dinosaur goes flying across your dorm.
"Much better," Yuta mumbles, burying his face in your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist.
You raise a brow at the slightly annoyed tone in your boyfriend's voice, an amused smile making its way onto your face.
"Yuta?" You only get a hum in response, "Were you jealous of the plushie?"
A beat of silence. "No..."
Another small silence, then a sigh. "...Yes."
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#yuta okkotsu#jjk yuuta okkotsu#okkutsu yuuta#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta okkotsu#okkotsu yuuta#yuuta x reader#jjk yuuta#yuuta x you#yuta okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuta x reader#yuuta okkotsu x you#yuuta okkotsu x y/n#jjk x reader
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Can't Help It - Library Date
☆ Okkotsu Yuuta x F!Reader
☆ Genre: Smut
☆ Warnings: NSFW 18+
☆ Contents: Aged-Up Characters, Established Relationship, Semi-Public/Public Sex, Needy!Yuuta, Sub?Yuuta, AU - University Students, Clothed Sex, Oral Sex, Breeding Kink?
☆ Word Count: 3.6k
☆ Summary: You meet up with your boyfriend, ready to have a study date at your university's library and really get down to business. The two of you need to go to the library to actually study, and you both know well enough to take it seriously.
Today you come wearing a new outfit... and suddenly your boyfriend has other plans for the two of you.
☆ A/N: Randomly awakening from my disappearance to post this smut which- I am just now realizing is my first real full-out smut! That I'm posting, that is.
This idea came to me as I was writing actually another fic for Yuuta so expect that real soon, much more stretched out than this lil one shot.
Anyways, enjoy!
It’s late morning by the time you meet your boyfriend Yuta Okkatsu at your university’s library. The place is huge, and would literally be impossible to find books from if you didn’t have the power of technology. You’re searching the section with the books required by the class you share with Yuta. You guys decided on not giving into the scam of buying textbooks, opting to use the library’s plentiful supply of books that no one uses these days anyways. You’re reaching up to grab another suggested reading as Yuta stands behind you, holding the big one you’d handed to him when you first got here.
He’s a little embarrassed right now, hot and beginning to sweat. And he’s surprised you haven’t noticed yet. Ever since he met you in front of the library earlier, he’s been sporting a full boner. All thanks to the new outfit you had on. It’s adorable, and your boyfriend absolutely loves the way it hugs your body. Maybe a little too much, unable to pry his eyes away from the curve of your ass as the skirt lifts up with your reach. He glances around to make sure no one else is around to see this view and then continues to stare.
You were so excited to show him this outfit today too, and he couldn’t even properly compliment you with how flustered it was making him. Plus, you probably wouldn’t want him to be immediately sexualizing you in it either, so what is he thinking? Still, he can’t help it. How badly he wants to have his hands all over you right now.
“Okay! Got it!” You say happily as you pull the book off its shelf. “That’s it, I think. There’s not anything else you wanna grab, is there? I mean honestly, three is already enough I don’t know if I can handle more than this.”
You look up at Yuta and he shakes his head to answer you. But somethings off about him.
“Is something wrong?” You ask and he’s honestly relieved you finally notice. He takes a step toward you, then another until he’s right in front of you. His eyes avoid yours out of embarrassment for a moment, but then he looks at you straight on.
“Let’s go home.” He says, taking your hand in his own as he does.
“Huh? But we said we would study together today.” You reply, confused on why he suddenly wants to change plans.
“Let’s just study at your place” He suggests, pouting. You raise an eyebrow at him and give him a knowing look.
“Yu.. you know if we go to ‘study’ at my place, there wont be any studying happening.” You tell him and playfully poke his stomach. He was hoping you’d just understand without him having to explain himself, but looks like he’ll have to show you instead.
“Cmon, let’s go find a-“ You begin as you turn, but stop mid sentence when you feel your boyfriends embrace from behind. He wraps his arms around your middle, book still in one of his hands. He nuzzles into your neck.
“Hey.. what’s up with you tod-“ You don’t need to ask any further when he finally presses his full body to you, and you feel it. His hard cock rests against your ass, straining through his pants. A hot flash hits you, suddenly feeling his neediness like it’s contagious.
“Ah.. I get it now.” You say calmly, placing a hand on his at your stomach and using the other to stroke his hair a couple times. “Needy boy~” You coo at him. He twitches against you, to your amusement.
“You look so good today.. I can’t help it.” He whines into your ear, just barely audible. He’s so sweet, what are you gonna do with this boy?
“Hmm.. I guess we can’t really study until you’re good, huh?” You say, mostly to yourself, as you quickly think of somewhere nearby that would be most likely to not get you caught.
“Cmere.” You tell him, taking his hand and leading him along with you.
You walk with him until you reach a little nook of the library, empty and seemingly not visited very much. Your friend actually told you about this part of the library, after having a hook-up here. She always has crazy stories of where shes done stuff, and you’re pretty sure at this point it’s definitely a kink for her. You always thought it was crazy, and you never thought you’d find yourself following in her footsteps. You’ll have to thank her later you guess. And pray she wasn’t lying.
“H-here?” Your boyfriend whispers as you glance around cautiously. You look at him curiously.
“You don’t want to? We can always wait till later if you-“ before you can even finish your suggestion, he’s shaking his head to answer.
“That bad, hm?” You say and lean your back against the shelf behind you, signaling him with your hand to come to you. He does and you caress his chest, down to his stomach and pelvis, massaging little circles there as you continue to look around a bit more. You love the way he reacts to your touch, fidgety and sensitive. His forehead rests against yours as you with his hands resting comfortably on your hips.
“We should be safe here, no one ever comes to this section and none of the cctv cameras can see.” You reassure him and you look back at him again.
“How do you know that-“ He goes to ask but knows the answer as soon as you give him a look. He knows about that friend of yours, from your stories. “Oh. Nevermind.”
Your hands finally move to start caressing the bulge in his pants, and he takes a startled inhale, immediately pushing his face into your neck again. He likes to do that a lot when you two get intimate, it made him feel like he’s closer. And he loves being able to smell you. God forbid he ever smelled your perfume while he’s out on his own, he’d be turned on immediately.
“You really worked yourself up, huh? You’re extra sensitive today.” You whisper to him as you listen to the little noises he’s been making as you continue to massage him through his pants.
“It’s the skirt you bought..” he pushes out to explain himself.
“…Too short?” You ask, a self conscious thought you had before buying it popping up in your mind and then leaving your mouth without needing too. Plus, boyfriends don’t usually want their girlfriends wearing super revealing clothing, right? Maybe it made him uncomfortable.
“No.. I love it so much. You look so good in it. Wear it all the time.” He reassures you desperately, laying your insecurities to rest immediately. You giggle and you don’t know why you were even nervous.
“Clearly I don’t think that’s a good idea, unless we wanna be like my friend and start testing our luck everywhere we go.” You joke, and he laughs lightly in your ear. A shiver tickles your spine.
“Okay, love. What do you want me to do for you? Just tell me.“ You prompt for him. You want to be able to satisfy him in whatever way he feels he needs you right now.
“Mm.. Nothing, jus wanna feel you..” He mumbles as his hands start to move from your waist and caress around all the curves of your body. He stops to grab at your ass when he gets there, and you can feel his neediness with the way his hips make slight jerks forward. Usually he’s always taken a liking to your breasts, but it must really be something about your skirt today driving him crazy. You don’t think you’ve seen him like this.
While he caresses you with his warm hands that you adore feeling on you like this, he starts to kiss your neck too. You let out very faint moans as he does, feeling extra sensitive too now for some reason. You can just feel how badly he wants you and that alone is driving you crazy.
"Yu.." you call out quietly as he's busy leaving you with another hickey. "Shouldn't we make this quick? Not that I don’t love it, but…"
You tell him this partially because you are a bit anxious about getting caught suddenly, but also because you’re really desperate to have him inside you already. You can feel the wetness between your legs getting out of control. He pulls back to look you in the eyes, and you were not expecting him to look as lustful as he does right now. That’s a dangerous look he’s giving you.
“I’m gonna eat you out.. is that okay?” He tells you, almost breathless, and you could moan just hearing him say that. You love when he goes down on you. It feels like heaven every time and you love looking at his eyes when his tongue is deep inside you. Despite this, you’re still a bit unsure.
“Yu.. this is kinda risky, don’t you think we should-“
“Please?” He begs and you know you could never say no to what he’s asking of you right now. This is literally a situation straight out of a wet dream.
“Okay.. but-“ before you can even tell him to be quick, he pushes his lips to yours with excitement. Your tongues entwine and you feel his fingers come down to rub at your slit. He can feel how wet you are now, and it only makes him kiss you harder, more desperate. You have to grab his shoulders when he’s suddenly slipping three fingers into you at once. He swallows your moans that would definitely had been much too loud otherwise. He pumps into you a few times before pulling out, leaving you feeling empty, needy. You need him inside you again. You whine at his absence as he pulls back from your kiss as well. You’re about to pout at him before you end up watching him put his own fingers in his mouth, getting a taste of you before the full meal. Your face goes red.
“I’ll make you cum quick, promise.” He tells you softly, making butterflies in your stomach as you watch him immediately sink down to his knees. You know he’s being serious about that too, and you’re a bit nervous.
You’re stood right next to where the wall ends and turns the corner, so you peak your head out to make sure no one’s around. There’s nobody, and you cant believe people really never come to this section. Honestly it would be a cute place to sit and read normally.
“Look at me.” Your boyfriend tells you and your attention snaps back to him. He’s already slipped your panties down and you lift your skirt up slightly for him so it’s not in his face as he goes to kiss your clit.
You let out hushed moans as his tongue starts working, circling your clit and playing with you there for a while. Your face must be dark with both the way he’s making you feel and the way he’s looking at you. God that eye contact will get you everytime. His intense sanpaku stare never once looking away from you, taking in every reaction he gets out of you. It’s like he studies you, analyzing what’s making you feel the best, making sure he’s doing a good job. You cant believe how into this he is too, you didn’t think this would be his thing, but he clearly loves it. You never thought when you met this sweet boy that he would be so kinky.
Right now he’s really keeping his word on making it quick, hitting all the right motions he’s already memorized from how many times he’s pleasured you like this. He knows exactly what you like. Normally, he’ll stretch it out anyways, loving getting to have you this way for as long as possible. Seeing all the cute faces you make. Even making you climax on his face multiple times.
His favorite is when you’re about to cum, just like you are now. Your hands are in his hair, pulling at him as if you want him to stop, can’t take it anymore.
“Yuta.. s’too much..” you whisper to him like you do in some variation everytime. Then your thighs start clenching on him, shaking. Your breathing gets quicker. Your hands can’t even muster the energy to pull him anymore, clenching and unclenching fists in his hair. The only thing he doesn’t like about this part is that he can’t talk you through it like he likes to. He wants more than anything in this moment to tell you “You're doing so good, beautiful. Ride it out. I got you.” As your back arches and your body tenses up. But he’s got to stay focused to make sure you feel as good as possible.
He watches you with your mouth covered, head pushed against the bookcase behind you. His hands come up to support your now trembling legs as you start to come down from your high. He thinks he could never get tired of doing this specifically for you.
He lets you breathe for a few moments before standing again. He presses his forehead to yours as you look up at him with those pleasure-riden eyes.
“Y/n…” he says to you softly and you nod. “Sorry but, turn around. Please. Need to fuck you so bad.”
If your cheeks could blush any darker they would. You really love when he’s like this. You do as he says and turn around, his buldge already pressing at your ass as you feel him struggle to get his pants undone. When he does, he wastes no time in rubbing his raw shaft along your extremely wet folds. You shiver and manage to hold in any sound from coming out.
“Ah! H-hold on!” You tell him right before it feels like he’s about to press into you. You cant believe you didn’t think of this. You reach over for your purse and Yuta impatiently continues to rub against you. Looking for the condom in your bag as best you can, it’s not too long before you find it and pull it out. You knew having emergency ones in there would come in handy.
“Here. Put this on at least.” You say, handing it back to him.
He looks confused for a moment, and you know why. The two of you have been fucking raw for a while now. Which, in hindsight is not the best habit to have gotten into. But you suppose that was your risky kink, both of yours.
“Yu, we’re gonna make a mess if we don’t use it.” You reason with him, already hearing the protests probably circling in his head. You hear him whine just slightly, but he takes it. He knows you’re right.
As he’s putting it on you start to worry about yourself and getting caught again. You’ve never exactly been very quiet, and neither has he. At all.
“Try to go slow please.. I’m not sure how well I can keep my voice down if you’re not careful.” You whisper to him, bracing yourself against the bookshelf. You feel Yuta’s hand caress up and around your hips, his face moving up right to your ear.
“You’re right.. if we get caught we might get banned from the library. And then we’d have to study at your place from now on… what a shame that’d be.. right?” He says with a dark tone, and you know exactly what he’s implying. Horny asshole. There’s no way he’s serious.
“I think the penalty would be a lot worse than tha-AT!” You go to warn him but loose control of your voice when he shoves almost his entire length into you at once. Specifically doing the OPPOSITE of what you just asked.
“Yuta!!” You hiss, slapping his shoulder with the back of your hand before he starts moving. “What’d I just tell you?!”
He breaths a silent laugh into your neck “Sorry.. love you.” He says and places a few kisses along your neck and shoulder. You sigh at this and you know you can’t stay mad. Still, that was a surprise as he’s usually very obedient to you with requests like that.
“You’re taking me so good, though.” He adds, pressing a kiss to your cheek as well. You feel him slide in a little more and you both let out shallow breaths. You feel so close to him like this, his body pressed against you, pinning you to the bookcase with nowhere to go. His hands find yours and intertwine, letting you know he’s got you, he’s with you.
Your warmth felt so good around him like this, he didn’t even want to move. But just like before, he knows he’s gotta be quick here. This is what he was begging for and you so graciously allowed him to have. His thrusts go slow the way you asked of him, only picking up pace when he feels the need. The sound of your soft almost-silent moans and the squelching of his cock pumping in and out of you, filling the silence of the corner the two of you have to yourself. He groans and whines quietly into your back as his pace speeds up again, trying harder not to make noise with his motions more than with his mouth.
“Thank you.. fuck, I love you.” He tells you, breathlessly, mindlessly.
“Yuuta.. Ah!” You moan his name, just a little louder than you have been. His hand comes to cover your mouth, but it’s gentle. You know he’s just helping, knowing it’s hard for you to keep quiet like this. He keeps letting praises and curses fall from his mouth like mumbling, fucking into you with as much care as he can. Wanting to make you feel so good but not alert anyone to this private moment, just for the two of you. His hand can barely keep against your mouth, his focus elsewhere. You can hear his labored breathing and small moans that slip out right against your ear, making your hand stand and every part of you feeling sensitive.
“I’m gonna.. ahh.. gonna cum, Yu.” You tell him softly, your mind fogging. You look down below you and the sight is so incredibly lewd, like something you’d find on a nsfw blog. Your panties soaked on the floor beneath you, your feet basically on top of his the way you’re lifted up on your toes.
“Fuck, Please. Cum for me, love. Wanna feel it..” He pleads, fucking you harder now, the sounds getting a bit too loud. “I love you so much. Please. Please, please.”
There’s no way you could hold back your climax if you wanted to with the way he’s begging you like this. Your body complies, as if obedient to him of its own will. Your high ripples through you and you have to slap your hand on top of his to really keep quiet for this.
He doesn’t slow even on your comedown, continuing to fuck your aching hole. Your hands muffle the moans thatd normally be full-on wails if the two of you were home right now.
“Kiss me.” He tells you, his face next to yours already. You both let go and you press you lips to his again. He does his best to help drown out your sounds as he reaches his own high.
“Cumming.. fuck I’m gonna cum.” He whines against your lips, unable to focus on anything else anymore.
“Feels so good Yu.. cum inside me, please.” You plead for him, knowing it makes him feel even better when you praise him.
“I love you.” You finally tell him earnestly, and he echoes it back to you so breathlessly that you could barely make it out.
He thrusts into you one last time, spilling his seed into the condom that he wishes wasn’t there. He wants you to feel him finishing inside you, he’d become addicted to it.
Still, he basks in the way you twitch and squirm against him as he keeps his dick stuffed deep inside you, pressing against your cervix wall.
“Yu..” You whine, knowing he knows what he’s doing. He just wanted to enjoy it a moment longer, that’s all. When he pulls out of you, the both of you gasp a little, breaths heavy and shaking.
At the beginning of this, when you offered to do it in the library, you had not thought it’d be intense like this, and you definitely didn’t consider how your legs would feel afterward. They are shaking and you’re praying Yuta can’t tell because he will most definitely tease you about it. His arms wrap around you as he embraces you one more time.
“After studying, later I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” He tells you sweetly, like it’s not the totally vulgar sentence that just left his mouth. You scoff in disbelief.
“Are you serious?” You say with amused exasperation.
“We had to use the condom..” He pouts, looking up at you from shoulder level. “I want to give you a creampie like I usually do.”
Good lord, what have you turned this man into?
“Alright, alright.” You tell him, rolling your eyes with a smile. “But only if you actually study with me now. Cmon, put this away.” He flinches when you poke his now half-hard dick, but does as you say anyways.
This is good, now he has some real motivation to work. He studies with you that day harder than he’s probably ever studied in his whole life.
#okkotsu yuuta#yuuta x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#fanfiction#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Hi 💝 yuta okkotsu + coffee + green
yuuta okkotsu x reader
c: timeskip yuuta, fluff, feels
It’s not the warm, gentle breeze filtering in through the window that stirs you from sleep—nor is it the insistent chittering of the birds perched in the tree nearby, or the bright morning sunlight that floods across your rumpled sheets.
—it’s the fragrant smell of coffee wafting through the house, your tired eyes flying open the moment the scent hits you.
You don’t drink coffee.
Throwing back the sheets, you stumble out of bed and dash out of the room.
You don’t drink coffee.
The laminate flooring squeaks beneath your bare feet as you skid to a stop in the kitchen, heart clumsily skipping a beat at the sight of the man leaning back against the counter, an ugly, green mug with a chip in it clutched in one hand.
It’s hideous, really—it looks woefully out of place amongst every other cup lined up in your cabinets.
It was presumptuous of whomever made it in the first place, to think someone would want to drink out of something such an unpleasant shade of green.
—that’s exactly what you said when you plucked it up off of the shelf in a flea market stall years ago, laughing so hard at the agreeing frown on Yuuta’s face that it went clattering to the ground. Still not quite past the boundaries of friendship at the time, you’d both been flustered when you bumped heads and brushed hands as you dove to the floor to rescue it before the old woman sitting at the register nearby could notice.
And naturally, rather than letting you sneak the ugliest mug in the world back on the unfortunate shelf from whence it came, Yuuta insisted on buying it once he realized that you’d chipped it.
It’s such a goddamn ugly mug.
—and you’ll keep it forever, probably.
He smiles at you conspiratorially over the rim.
You don’t drink coffee, but he does.
“You’re home,” you whisper, biting your lower lip to suppress the size of the grin spreading across your face as you look at Yuuta. “A week early.”
The black strands of hair that frame his face have grown longer in the months that he’s been away, and you step forward, unable to deny yourself the need to card your fingers through the soft locks. Yuuta hums, his posture relaxing under the weight of your familiar touch, the looseness in his shoulders at odds with the dark circles that linger below his lower lashes.
You’ve missed him so much—so much that it hurts, a splintering ache that’s settled deep in your bones.
“And you’re up early,” he muses, eyes sparkling with mirth as he reaches up and prods at a rogue strand of your sleep-mussed hair.
One of his hands comes to rest along the curve of your hip, the steady, seeping pang in your chest giving way under the warm pressure of his touch fluttering along your nerve endings.
You roll your eyes fondly and lament, “I just couldn’t resist the smell of hot bean water.”
Yuuta’s tongue darts out, passing over his lips, and he huffs, fingertips skating along your collarbone. A shiver dances down your spine as he drags them up the side of your neck, middle finger tracing the curve of your jaw before he finally takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger.
“Morning breath,” you grimace, despite the emotions swelling inside of you at the soft promise of his mouth hovering inches away.
“Don’t care,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Coffee breath?”
“Don’t care,” you echo.
Yuuta laughs, the noise reverberating through the kitchen and dripping like honey down the taut, yearning strings of your heart.
It’s a rich, beautiful sound.
One you’d do anything to hear.
One you’d trade for nothing—save for the quiet that follows when his lips finally find yours.
#yuuta okkotsu#yuta okkotsu#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuuta x reader#okkotsu yuuta#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#dee writes
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safe :: okkotsu yuuta
author’s note: hello everyone! this is my submission for @ilyluffy dark content collab - again I’m so sorry it took me this long to put out I also feel this fic really started out strong and then idk - it just seemed to have fallen on its face at the end. Oh well. I hope you enjoy.
warnings: yuuta x afab!reader, dark content, yandere themes, mentions of murder, blood, somnophilia, dubcon, small bits of noncon, mentions of stalking, obsession/obsessive thoughts, possessive!yuuta, unprotected sex/breeding, eventual smut, mating press, noncon fingering (reader is asleep), noncon touching/undressing, mentions of pet names (pretty baby etc), some mind games/manipulation.
Peeking through the cracked bedroom door, he could see you sleeping soundly. A sigh of relief fell from his lips before opening the door and stepping inside the shared bedroom. He stood at the door of the bedroom, watching you inhale and exhale. The corners of his lips lifted into a smile. After the day you had, you deserve a nice long rest.
While Yuuta trusted you while you went out into the world, what he didn’t trust was the world. And some days, it just felt right to keep an extra eye on you. He witnessed countless monsters trying to take what was his. Subtle touches, casual flirting… It was all too much for him.
You were far too innocent to understand what was happening. You would smile with each compliment or touch - not understanding that these monsters were trying to steal you away from him. You were too cute. Too pure. No, he had to protect you from the monsters that lay in waiting outside to steal you.
Some learned that lesson the hard way today…
He slowly climbed into bed, careful to not disturb you. The moonlight peaking through the blinds illuminated his features and the streaks of blood on his face and clothes. His hand snaked around your waist, still fast asleep as he buried his face into the back of your neck. “No need to worry,” he whispered. “It’s not my blood…”
He wasn’t too sure if you could hear him, but still wanted to make it clear that he did everything in his power to protect you from every monster that tried to take advantage of you. His lips ghosted against the nape of your neck before he raised to watch you sleep for a moment longer.
Yuuta wasn’t sure what had possessed him from not washing off the blood before getting into bed with you, but in some carnal way - he was thankful he hadn’t. The way the crimson stained your perfect skin… the blood of all those monsters.
Exterminated.
His eyes trailed down your sleeping form before adjusting his position to gently push you onto your back so he could sit between your legs. His large hands moved up your legs, then your thighs, and then gave the plush flesh a light squeeze before pushing your legs further apart.
Crimson trails littered your skin causing Yuuta to smirk. He did this for you. For both of you. His hands reached the dainty fabric of your panties before his soiled hands tugged them off of your body. The blood soaked into the fabric before tossing the clothing to the floor. He leaned closer to you before bringing his thumb to your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves.
Your hips gave an excited jolt much to Yuuta’s delight as his thumb pressed harder. Soft pants fell from your lips before the gentle whisper of his name fell from your lips.
“Sweet baby,” he whispered.
All he wanted was to make you feel good with his touch, his hands… the hands that scared away the monsters every night from harming you.
“You’re mine,” he said in a hushed tone. “Always mine.”
“…Yuuta,” you mumbled as your legs clenched again.
Your name fell from his lips. He removed his hand from your clit before towering over you. Leaning over, he pressed his lips against yours earning a small moan from you as a reward. His tongue prodded into your mouth before rutting his hips against your body.
He couldn’t stop himself.
He could feel his pants tightening with each rut. A slew of swears tumbled from his lips before his dark eyes gazed back at you. Your lips were parted as soft pants filled his ears. Yuuta raised again. A thought crossed his mind as his eyes roved over your body. He made quick work removing his clothing before his hands moved up your body again, pushing the T-shirt you were sleeping in to expose your breasts. His thumbs ran over your hardening nipples, before cupping the flesh within his grip.
“I’m sorry, pretty baby,” he almost moaned. “Just a bit won’t hurt, right?”
It wasn’t as if you would respond being so deep in your slumber as he pressed the tip of his hardened cock against your dripping core. He pushed further into you, groaning as his hips snapped forward from the feeling of your cunt hugging his length in all the right ways.
“Fuck,” he whined. “I’m sorry baby… I can’t stop.”
His hips stuttered again, pushing his cock further into you. His hands came to your hips before guiding your legs back to give him better leverage. Your ankles rested on his shoulders before pushing your thighs against your chest.
“Y-Yuuta…?”
Your eyes snapped open before you realized what was happening before his hand came to your mouth. A strangled cry of pleasure fell from your lips as tears beaded at the corner of your eyes.
“Pretty baby,” he whispered, thrusting into you harder. “Why do you have to be so pretty for me? It’s your fault, you know…?” He paused as his hips slammed into you harder, earning another cry. “You’re too pretty… look how much you wanted this… you’re soaking my cock.”
You could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your sweet spot, sending electric shivers throughout your body. If this hadn’t felt so good, you probably would have been furious but… Your hands came up to his shoulders before he thrust harder.
Yuuta removed his hand from your mouth as another moan tumbled past your lips. “My pretty baby,” he cooed in between his whimpers. “See what you do to me? Gonna let me take care of myself right?”
“Y-yes,” you cried out as your orgasm began building up in the pit of your stomach. Your nails dug into his skin as he hissed.
His hand slipped between your legs again before teasing your clit as his thrusts increased. Gasping, your grip on his shoulders tightened. “That’s it,” he moaned, as he began chasing his orgasm now. “Cum for me, pretty baby…”
Crying out his name, your body tensed before feeling pleasure wash over your body. Panting, you relaxed against the bed as you felt Yuuta’s hips stutter again, knowing he was close to his edge.
“Yuuta,” you whined. “Fill me up… please.”
Those words were all it took before he thrust again, grunting loudly. You groaned as you felt his cock twitching inside of you and suddenly releasing into you. He hissed as he pulled out.
You offered a sweet smile before Yuuta collapsed face-first into your chest. Your hands came to tangle through his dark hair as he closed his eyes.
“My pretty baby,” he whispered. “So good for me…”
He knew he should wake you up and have your shower, but a carnal part of him wanted to stay like this with you forever. The blood only seemed to add to the allure of it. Hopefully, you won't be angry with him in the morning, but he knew deep down his pretty baby would take any excuse or reason he had to offer as fact.
Too pretty for your good.
Even covered in blood.
“Goodnight,” he mumbled. “You know I’ll always keep you safe…
“Mhm…” you hummed. “Goodnight Yuuta…”
#jujutsu kaisen#okkotsu yuuta#yuuta x reader#yuuta x you#yuuta x y/n#jjk yuuta#yuuta smut#jjk x you#jjk#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#anime#fanfiction#fanfic#yuuta fic#jjk fanworks#jujutsu kaisen yuta okkotsu#jujutsu kaisen x you
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚SUB!YUUTA X READER CH.2 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
18+MDNI
cw: friends with benefits, cloth kink, handjob, teasing, sub!yuuta, everyone is 18+, overstimulation, begging, penetration denial, grinding, first kiss, gender neutral reader, reader has a vagina
Crossposted to ao3! A lovely commissioner asked for a continuation of the first sub!Yuuta x Reader scenario. Thank you so so much for supporting me.
If anyone wishes to have a custom x Reader commission, feel free to message me!
This is only the first part since tumblr's character limit likes to nerf my blabbing, but Click here for the full fic if you want to read more!
Enjoy :)
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Night after night, your feet always end up leading to his door. It’s become your own little ritual: waiting until everyone’s long turned in before you exit your room, quietly following an imaginary pattern through the floor tiles you’d draw in your head as your feet are led by something akin to a magnetic force, every movement now long memorized until you reach your destination. After that, every single time would be like clockwork, and his warm smile melts through the evening cold, uttering the same words as always: “You’re here.”
It never gets old.
You would think things would never be the same after the first time. Once the two of you had made that dent in your relationship, all the “what ifs” floating about felt harrowing: The two of you could never speak of it again and take it for what it was: an accident that got out of hand, and moved on as if nothing happened. You could’ve gone even further and established your relationship (had he asked to, you might just have gone along with this option, too), forever changing the dynamic between the two of you and your teammates and adding weight to the already heavy burden that comes with being a sorcerer.
In the end, one of those outcomes was partly true; You hadn’t really spoken about it or anything, but it was far from a gesture of denial. It all just had a way of falling into place between the two of you without all the fuss, and you couldn’t have been more grateful for the lack of drama.
Despite it all, intimacy wasn’t a nightly occurrence. The desire is there, obviously— but there would be times where it felt like you had built your own little world, legs tangled together as you talked and talked throughout the night until you both passed out in each other’s embrace. Other times, there just wouldn’t be the chance to do much thanks to the duties that awaited you the following day, and all you’d be left with was a lingering sadness as you traced your way back to bed, feeling the scent of his clothes on yours.
All in all, it was good… it would be perfect, even, if it weren’t for a couple of issues:
1) You haven’t gone all the way
2) You haven’t , for some reason, kissed.
And for someone who spewed all that big talk about how bad he wants it in the heat of the moment, both of these problems were Yuuta’s fault exclusively. It wasn’t a big deal at first— Yuuta had grown far more confident in the time you two grew close, but his shy nature was a tough one to beat. It is one of the many reasons you find him so adorable, and it makes pushing him around in bed all that more fun. But each time you find yourself being cut short from the cusp of your desires, you find your growing frustration harder and harder to swallow.
And now, in this very moment, standing by the doorframe he so casually rests a hand on, greeting you the same way he did the day before, the day before that, and all the other previous days, the metaphorical lid you’ve put on said frustrations is about to burst.
Normally you’d just let yourself in and respond “I’m here.” Today, you stand there, feet planted on the ground and look him straight in the eye, asking, “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”
Had you given Yuuta a mouthful of molten lava, his face might’ve been less red than it had turned just then. “Huh?”
“Why. Haven’t. We. Kissed yet?”
The hint of frustration in your tone makes him tense up further, and his shoulders shrug more and more by reflex with each pointed pause, as he tries to gauge how angry you are about the issue “Wow. Um.” He blinks, a shaky smile slowly growing across his crimson red features while he makes way for you to step in. “Can we talk about this inside?”
“You know,” You start, accepting his invite —but not without shouldering past him to prove a point—“There’s steps to this stuff but it feels like you’re sooo content with skipping all of them, and with me just touching your dick and getting you off, it’s almost like you’re not begging to go all the way every time, then shrinking back, then begging again without so much as a kiss to spare. So, what’s the deal? Are you just doing it to humor me?”
It takes a few seconds of buffering for him to take all the information you throw at him, but soon enough his brain catches up, and his mouth hangs open all but for a fraction of a second before he purses his lips in a tight line and sits on the edge of his bed, patting next to him to welcome you to do the same.
Skeptical as you are about his intentions, you can’t manage to say no to his pleading eyes and sit next to him with crossed arms, waiting for him to plea his case.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” He finally answers, scratching the bridge of his nose with a finger. “Believe me, I want to do all that, but it’s not like I have the experience for it. I want to make you feel good, I just kind of don’t know where to start because I’ve never… kissed. Or done any of it before we started, really.”
Oh.
“So you’re saying we’ve been doing all that, but you’ve never…”
He nods, now bringing his hand to the back of his neck bashfully.
“Oh.”
Well, now you can’t help but feel bad for him.
The air following his confession is so thick it could be cut with a knife. The both of you avoid eye contact for what seems like ages- fidgeting with the wood frame of the bed, picking at a bit of dust stuck in the sheets, listening to the faint sound of a cricket somewhere outdoors. It feels nearly impossible to recover from such an awkward turn of events— despite that, Yuuta seems to surprise you, though, starting to lean close so he could meet eye to eye with you, speaking as if he were sharing a secret between the two of you. “Would you like to try?”
His earnest demeanor never fails to get to you. You suddenly feel a knot in your throat, a stirring in your chest you can’t seem to describe when the mere idea of taking Yuta Okkotsu’s first kiss begins to materialize in your head. You stare into his eyes, dark and earnest as always, but you can’t seem to find yourself capable of holding contact for too long. Instead you try to find anything else to divert your attention towards: the strand of hair that hangs slightly over his eyes, the bridge of his nose sloping down to his perfect cupid’s bow, his lips, barely parted as they wait for your answer.
God, will he ever stop being cute?
You shift in bed, bringing yourself to your knees in front of him. There was always something about having the upper edge when being able to tower over Yuuta when you normally wouldn’t be able to that gave you a rush— the look of surprise in his face whenever you catch him off guard was a treasure to behold, a thing so precious that you cannot resist to cradle in your hands, your palms curving along his cheeks ever so gently as you lift his face up, your mouths nearly inches away from each other. “I’ll teach you, Yuuta.”
The gasp Yuuta emits is barely audible, but you can tell he’s trying his very best to keep his cool. His fingers shake, lifting from the sheets to your sides, ghosting above them before holding on with as much care as you do him, and he gulps air before he nods expectantly.
Had it been this simple from the beginning, it might not have been this much fun. You take in his expression for a few seconds, your thumb rubbing over his lower lip in a single, slow swipe. You study it’s softness, the way it gives against your touch and how easily you can tuck that finger into it, pulling it down gently and watching the rest of Yuuta’s mouth open so obediently that you could devour him in kisses until your mouths give out. You want to kiss him, you want it so bad, and by the way he lets you handle him you can tell he’s wanted it too. It’s a relief for you, knowing your desire isn’t one-sided, and you’re just about to cave…
…until your thumbs dips into his mouth instead, pressing against his tongue. “Suck on this first.”
Where someone else might have protested and demanded their kiss already, Yuuta, ever so eager to please you, only averts his gaze downwards, closing his mouth around the digit and rolls his tongue around it, letting a long breath out his nose. The warm, wet feeling sends a lovely shiver down your spine as you echo his breath with a sigh, keeping his cheek cradled with your free hand as your finger pushes in, then out slowly. You marvel at the sight, but only briefly before you slide it back in with ease, shuffling above him to straddle his lap, making yourself comfortable on his legs. “Good. Just like that…show me how bad you want to kiss me. Can you do that for me?”
Yuuta obliges, opening his mouth to allow you to pull your thumb out, making room for your index and middle finger. He closes it again with a soft moan, leaning in to take their full length before pulling his head back, then forth once more as you can feel his tongue dart between them, coating them in his spit. He nearly leaves you speechless with his eager sucks, the smack of his lips ringing in your ears as he kisses and dribbles around the tips of your fingers nearly making your head spin with arousal. I want to kiss him, you think. And you do want to, you’d do anything to make your tongue take the place of your fingers right now and feel his lips against yours, your tongues pushing together, your arms wrapping around each other desperately as you finally get a taste of each other.
And yet, what’s a bit more waiting?
For Yuuta, probably torture. The realization nearly makes you giggle but you decide to hold back, opting to push him further. Your hips dip down, and you can feel him already hard against you, not to anyone’s surprise. By now you had both long accepted that Yuuta was pretty easy to rile up, and you had no complaints about it— if anything, you really got a kick out of driving him crazy, and tonight wasn’t going to be any different if you had a say in it. Pulling your fingers out, you ask him: “Hard already?”
“Sorry…”
“Wanna put it in?”
“W-whah—Huh!? Okay…”
“Nope~”
And there it is, that adorable little whine he makes when you dangle something in front of him and take it away. The urge to laugh nearly gets to you again but you stay strong, anchoring yourself with the feeling of his pants pressing against yours. You tell yourself the long game will be worth it once you see his eyes gloss over, threatening tears. He will be worth it. “Take it out, though, I have something fun in mind.”
--
Full fic here
#jjk#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk smut#sub!yuuta okkotsu#jjk x y/n#yuuta okkotsu x y/n#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta okkotsu x you#yuuta okkotsu#jjk yuuta#mdni#18+ only
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ HOW THE JJK BOYS WOULD TAKE CARE OF YOU WHILE SICK.
yuuta okkotsu.
✦ this boy would definitely be all fussy over you, not in the overbearing kind of way, but rather, in an 'i care about you and want you to get better' kind of way, if it makes any sense.
✦ he constantly checks in on you, and even when you insist for him not to come close to you out of fear you'd infect him or snap at him because of your body feeling so out of it, he'd smile and tell you that it's okay, h doesn't mind getting sick if it's all to help you get better.
✦ idk about y'all, but i have the feeling this boy is a good cook. he would make sure to cook you something nutritious, warm, and filling so you wouldn't be so hungry and you can sweat to feel cooler; he's kind of motherly at times, and that's what makes you even more appreciative of him.
toge inumaki.
✦ he is the type to worry about you quite a lot when he doesn't see you, he'd sometimes pace around your room when no one's there and wonder if he should go inside or not because he really wants to know how you're doing.
✦ when he goes inside, he checks your temperature with the back of his hand, offers you water, gets your medicines at the right time, offers you more blankets, some socks if you need them, opens or closes the window and lights at your command; he'll do the whole nine yards for you to feel comfortable, even with the discomfort of being sick.
✦ inumaki, even without saying anything, would sit next to your bed and watch over you, make sure to do anything for you if you needed it, or just be there for you if you'd like. he doesn't like the idea of you having to do so much when you're already sick, so he does everything he can to help you so you can get better.
yuuji itadori.
✦ he's the type that when you're trying to sleep while you're sick, he'd tuck you in, give you a soft, blowing kiss, close the lights, tiptoe out of your room, take all precautions to close the door as quiet as a mouse, and tell everyone who walks by not to be so loud because you're trying to sleep.
✦ when you're awake and stuck in bed, yuuji asks you if you wanna watch a movie to pass the time, or read some comics or manga so as not to feel bored. he hates not being able to do anything, and he thinks you might feel the same way, being cooped up in your room, so he invites you in doing simple activities together in your room.
✦ i think yuuji wouldn't mind you asking him for a hug or a forehead kiss even when you're sick, he gets what it's like being touch starved, it isn't a good feeling for him, so even if he might get sick, he still hugs you with arms wide open and squeezes you a little, making sure you get your needed dose of love and affection.
megumi fushiguro.
✦ he might come off as cold and uncaring, but every time he knocks on your door and peeks in, he cares ten, maybe a hundred, times more than you'd originally think he does. he always comes by with vitamins, explaining to you how they'll boost your immune system, along with some fruits he knows you like; he even peels and chops them up for you!
✦ he can scold you sometimes when you're not resting, going on your phone when you need to rest, not taking your meds on time, but he's only doing this because he cares for you so, so much and wants to see you better and healthy again.
✦ he'd also be a great cook, i believe; being adopted by gojo at an early age taught him how to rely on himself and do household chores on his own, so i bet he'd make you your favorite meals, turn them healthier, and, at your request... spoon feed you. he insists he does this just so he can make sure you've really eaten, but the blush on his face says otherwise, he enjoys seeing you beam and smile when he spoon feeds you.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk fanfic#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen yuuta#jjk yuuta#jujutsu kaisen inumaki#jjk inumaki#jujutsu kaisen yuuji#jjk yuuji#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jjk megumi#yuuta okkotsu#okkotsu yuuta#yuuta x reader#inumaki toge#toge inumaki#inumaki x reader#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#megumi x reader#yuuji itadori#itadori yuuji#itadori x reader
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Collapse Into Me
After a particularly rough day, how do these JJK characters offer their comfort?
INCLUDED - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuta Okkotsu, Inumaki Toge, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
SATORU is more than happy to gather you in his arms and let you lay there. To him, there's no greater comfort than you laying in his arms, your head tucked perfectly underneath his chin with one hand tangled in your hair and the other tracing mindless shapes into the exposed skin of your back. He'd let you ramble about what made your day so terrible and offer little hums between your sentences – never once interrupting you or making you feel as if he wasn't listening. He would only offer his advice if you wanted it, and even then it was the most heartfelt words he'd ever spoken to you.
"I'm here for you sweet thing. Just let it all out, okay? Don't want you holding anything in."
SUGURU makes it his personal mission to take your mind off of whatever might have bothered you throughout the course of your day. When you return home, the first thing that he notices is your dulled mood – how your eyes focus on anything but him and how you try your hardest to hide the growing tremble to your lips. He doesn't draw attention to it, not wanting to accidentally upset you further. Instead he just pulls you into the living room, where he's set up a small fort for just the two of you; complete with your favorite snacks and drinks, as well as a movie that you had mentioned enjoying.
"I know you've had a tough day angel, but you're here now with me. Come on, make yourself comfy."
KENTO's comfort is the personification of a warm hug paired with gentle, featherlight kisses. He cradles you in his arms for however long you need, rocking your bodies back and forth, his chest rumbling in a gentle hum against the skin of your cheek. He'll guide you to sit down, fingers interlocking with your own as his softened eyes scan over your twisted expression, beautiful features scrunched up in sadness. He'll kiss away the tears as they trickle down your cheeks, offering you words of comfort that he wished he had heard during his moments of need.
"Come now darling, don't cry. I'm right here with you, everything is going to be alright."
TOJI is at first very arrogant, smirking down at you and bluntly pointing out the tears that you're trying so desperately to keep hidden from his gaze. But when he sees that the events of your day had truly left you shaken and unhappy, he's tugging you to his chest and hiding you away from the world. The entirety of your body is dwarfed by his massive frame, face squished into his chest as he leans back on the couch, tugging you over him like a weighted blanket. He says absolutely nothing as you keep yourself hidden away, but he doesn't miss the feeling of your tears as they fall delicately onto his skin. Only when you lift your head to glance up at him does he thumb away your tears — hushing you with a softness that not even he knew that he was capable of.
"Alright kid, you're okay. 'm right here with ya, shh."
CHOSO sits silently with you, both of you simply sitting in the silence that your sadness provides. His fingers are folded together with your own, the pad of his thumb swiping against the back of your knuckle every now and then – another silent reminder that he was there with you. No words need to be exchanged, not that he would mind if you spoke. If you'd rather talk, he will gladly listen. And if not, he's more than okay with sitting beside you, allowing your body to rest against his own. Your head is laid against his shoulder, fingers interlocked, and for a moment, nothing else in the world truly matters.
"'m here, you don't need to be upset anymore."
RYOMEN might not know how to comfort people, but somehow, he figures it out quickly the moment that he sees you curling away from his touch. The tears that adorn your waterline are not a foreign sight to him, but that doesn't mean that he ever wants to see that expression on your face. He doesn't offer you words of comfort, after all, his tongue was sharp and made of silver – it likely would do more harm if he were to open his jaw. Instead, he offers to you a softness that had only ever been reserved for you anyway. He'll let you lay beside him, sharpened fingernails scraping through your hair just like you did for him on those nights where he pretended to be asleep. He may not be the best at comforting, but to you, his presence was warmth personified – a warmth that you needed to combat the coldness of your day.
"Tch, shut up and let me do this for you … little brat."
HIROMI grants you the space that you need to process whatever it is you may be feeling. He'll sit quietly outside of the closed bedroom or bathroom door, simply resting his head against the wall and listening to the softened sniffles that you're trying your best to keep locked within your chest. The moment that the door slides open and you sit quietly at his side, he wraps you up in his arms and allows you to sob into him. Please let everything out in his arms, the last thing that he wants is for you to wake later in the night with your body debilitated by sadness that you had accidentally left to fester. He wants you to know that he is there for you, and if holding you is the way to go about it, then he will happily let his arms go numb for your sake.
"There, there my love. You've nothing to waste your tears over … I'm here, you're safe."
INO is initially silent when you return home distraught after a tough day, but the moment that you sit beside him and let out that heavy sigh that says “I’m exhausted”, he is wrapping you up in a thickened blanket and rushing around the apartment like a chicken devoid of a head. He piles snacks and drinks onto the coffee table and shuffles through the drawer that is filled to the brim with various DVDs. He holds up various options, feeling his heart sink further and further into his stomach at your lack of an answer. After talking to a brick wall, he decides to just sit in silence with you, hugging you against him and deciding that — maybe — a nap was all that you needed.
“You comfortable sweetheart? Oh … okay, okay. ‘m here, just rest, yeah?”
YUUTA offers to walk around Jujutsu Tech with you after finding out about how terrible your day had been, smiling at you and taking both of your hands into his own. He even tells Rika to leave him undisturbed for a few hours, directing all of his attention to you. The silence of your walk is filled with your ramblings about your day, complaints about Gojo, worries about upcoming missions, anything and everything that might be bothering you. He’ll offer advice where it’s needed, cracking jokes if the situation calls for it — but his main focus is being there, being the ear that you so desperately need.
“I’m sorry angel, I wish that there was more that I could do. But I’m right here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
INUMAKI is the king of distracting you when you’re upset, opening his dorm up to you and allowing you to hide away in it as if you had spent your entire life living there. He silences his phone for the rest of the day, focusing on you and the things that you want to do in order to take your mind off of whatever had happened prior to seeing him. He’ll offer you the second controller and go easy on you, allowing you to beat him and rub it into his face — eyes crinkling in a loving smile as the spark returns to your expression and body language.
“Tuna mayo. (I love you).”
YUUJI is on the verge of tears when he sees your pained expression, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in a bone-crushing embrace. He tucks you into his arms, his heart clenching in his chest as you sob into him. His hands rub up and down the length of your back, cheek resting against the top of your head as he shushes you — wanting you to calm down enough so that he could try and help you. He does his best to hold back his own tears, but your sadness is his own, and seeing you so distraught was only making him feel worse and worse by the second. But he hopes that his hug is enough to remind you that he's there with you … and that he was never leaving.
"Shhh baby, I'm here! I'm right here with you, you're okay … please don't cry."
MEGUMI almost immediately brings out his Divine Dogs at the sight of tears rolling down your cheeks – knowing that the dogs would work wonders in bringing you comfort. He sits quietly beside you on the couch, not daring to utter a word as you thread your fingers through the thick fur of one of the dogs, smiling tearfully as it nuzzles affectionately into your hand. He doesn’t say anything to you, nor does he offer any kind of reaction when you shift your body to lean comfortably against him. He wraps his arms firmly around you, resting his chin on top of your head and letting out a small sigh through his nose. He may be the silent type — but his silence cuts through your sadness like a burning knife. It’s comforting … and just so undoubtedly him.
“Is this okay? Alright … I’m here for you, I hope you know that.”
#colonelarr0w#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto x reader#kento nanami x reader#nanami x reader#choso kamo x reader#choso x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#hiromi higuruma x reader#higuruma x reader#ino takuma x reader#ino x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta x reader#inumaki toge x reader#toge x reader#yuuji itadori x reader#itadori x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader
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the flashes of light from the changing scenes cascaded over your figures, dialogue that fell on deaf ears as he pulled you closer, kissing along the expanse of your neck. you both could still hear the action sounds and the struggle of the main characters, it was a good movie you were sure of it, but nothing sounded better than being on your boyfriends lap.
you'd tapped out of the movie a while ago, the close proximity of you two and the flirty gestures brought you both to this point. maybe it was the pent up sexual tension between you two after having such busy schedules this week. all you could think about was how good it would feel to have his hands on you, all week. hell, he finished whatever he was doing so quick when his phone chimed with a text from you. little did you two know that the plans you had planned for tonight would fall through, just so you both could finally have what you really wanted.
the moment your eyes locked on his when he walked through your front door, you just knew that movie was gonna have to finish itself. the sly touches, hands that met your waist every so often for no reason at all, pecks that lasted longer than they should've, and a blazing core when he pulled you in to cuddle on the couch, you were in for it tonight.
now he was pulling you as close as you could be, his head angled up to meet your lips for another hungry kiss and his even hungrier hands pulling at the clothes that clung to you. your hands met his cheeks as his skin grew hot at your touch, intoxicated by the way you took charge this time around.
"i need you, i need all of you..."
choso, yuuta, suna, iwaizumi, SUGAWARA, kaneki,
is this ok? saw this format and thought i’d try, praying this doesn’t flop 🙏🏽
#anime#fluff#fanfiction#jjk x reader#fanfic#ff recs#jujutsu kaisen ff#jjk fanfic#tokyo ghoul#ken kaneki x reader#choso x reader#choso kamo#ken kaneki#okkotsu yuuta#yuuta x reader#jjk yuuta#iwaizumi hcs#iwaizumi x reader#suna haikyuu#haikyuu headcanons#jjk headcanons#tokyo ghoul headcanon
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He loves a good blowjob session. He especially loves it when you don't want to give up. You'll always try your absolute best to milk him dry. Like you have a personal vendetta against his balls.
You'd suckle on the tip of his limp dick after his 6th orgasm as he lays knocked out, eyeballs rolled up into their sockets. You'd try to lick off every drop of his leftover cum from his crotch to fill your stomach up.
When he'd wake up, he'd find you naked and fast asleep, belly swollen with his cum. It'd make him grin wide as he'd poke your tummy. You'd burp softly, your breath smelling like all of his cum from last night.
Gojo, Megumi, YUUTA, Geto, Sukuna, Toji, Choso
#jujutsu kaisen#angst#jjk#smut#gojo satoru#anime#manga#geto suguru#sukuna#yuji itadori#choso#megumi fushiguro#yuuta okkotsu#toji fushiguro#scenarios#shorts#drabbles#headcanon#fanfiction#x reader#x y/n#x you
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Seven Days at Granny Orimoto's Flower Shop ; Yuuta x F!Reader
My name is Okkotsu Yuuta. I am a recent graduate of a martial arts vocational school. I just completed a year-long internship abroad in Africa. Due to my recent re-entry into Japan, I am still in the process of setting up my phone and internet. I apologize for the inconvenience and I am extremely sorry for the burden.
As a supervisor and business, you may benefit from the set of skills that I have to offer. I can lift upwards of 25kg. I am neat and detail oriented. Due to past life experiences, I am a fast learner and quick to adapt to new surroundings. I am accustomed to taking orders and delivering results. It is my utmost goal to ensure the comfort and satisfaction of those around me. I am eager to be of service.
Please think of me kindly.
Or: An odd boy shows up every night begging for a job offer. Did you mention that he gives you handwritten letters? Do you have to report a workplace romance if the only other employee is your boss, who is currently dying? Asking for a friend.
notes: commission for the lovely mielle! thank you very kindly for 1) commissioning me!!!!!! and 2) putting up with my compulsion to surpass any and all word count specifications
warnings: general off-putting vibes, casual discussions of child death, implied stalking (at the very least), unethical(…? maybe ethically gray?) necromancy, etc. y'all know what's about to go down
♡ read on ao3 ♡
Life as a florist is every bit the dream that you’d hoped it would be.
The thought of working from nine to five in some cubicle for the rest of your life was enough to drive you out of university before even completing the feeble attempt you’d half-assedly made at a degree. While the path to your current state of employment had not been linear, easy, or even recommended, you cannot imagine ending up anywhere else.
You’re lucky enough as it is that Granny Orimoto was willing to take you on – perhaps, at first, out of pity – as a shop-hand. That day, all those months, is still as clear as unmarred waters in your mind. What a pitiful image you must have made: underfed, poorly clothed, with roving, vacant eyes.
Nevertheless, you adjusted quickly and gratefully to your new place of employment. Within months, your sense of self and purpose in life had been restored, watered and nurtured underneath the guiding light of Granny Orimoto’s flower shop. Like a corpse risen again, your days were once more filled with hope and aspirations.
Eventually, Granny Orimoto began bestowing upon you more and more responsibilities. You tend to think of your daily tasks as privileges more than anything else. You’ve graduated far beyond merely ringing customers up on the till – at this point, you’re somewhat of a budding horticulturalist. Or, at least, that’s what you’d like to think on your good days.
Recently, Granny Orimoto has even begun to entrust you to manage the shop on your lonesome for several days out of the week. It used to be the case that she would require you to work only hours that coincided with her own availability, so that you might fall under her constant supervision. Of course, this was back when you could barely keep a plant alive. Nowadays, things are quite different.
Quite different, indeed.
On this slow, Monday evening, managerial status finds its way to you once more. Closing the shop used to feel weird, without Granny Orimoto there to lay into you about your posture, or your clumsiness, or your naturally shy, stuttering nature. Now, it’s starting to feel eerily more and more like business as usual.
When the bell above the front door rings, you don’t think too much of it – this town is a bit of a tourist trap, so there are quite a few out-of-towners who aren’t used to respecting closing times. Usually, you’re too nice to shoo them out, but the weight of the day bears heavily upon your apron-clad shoulders.
But when you spin around on your heel, the polite-yet-firm “we closed four minutes ago” withers on your tongue like dead leaves crumbling away upon the unrepentant, earthen ground.
The most disturbing thing is not that he’s exactly your type of handsome: tall, gaunt, malnourished, with a strange, lost look in his wideset eyes. It would be easier, somehow, if your immediate and arresting attraction to the gangly stranger was the most of your worries.
Perhaps what unnerves you so, is the fact that you are powerless to do anything but devote the entirety of your attention to the odd young man. The terra cotta pot once in your grasp has suddenly been placed on the nearest shelf. The gardener’s gloves on your hands have now been stripped away and flung carelessly to the ground, the delicate flesh of your fingers on display for the world to see.
“Are you hiring?” He asks. The lights flicker. Granny Orimoto should really stop fighting you about calling an electrician – they aren’t that expensive.
No, is what you should say, because you don’t have the authority to answer this question and also the thought of having to train someone else when you are just barely getting the hang of your newfound managerial status is a terrifying prospect.
And yet, what ends up leaving your mouth is:
“Yes.”
His black hair is overgrown and in dire need of a trim. The bangs are in a liminal state: too short to part, too long for comfort. It dangles limply in his eyes. Those eyes. Big and glassy and dark, like a dead doe gazing up, unseeingly, at the sky.
“Okay,” he says. “Is there an application that I could fill out?”
Is he not cold? The weather chills significantly at night, and his layers look rather thin. Or maybe that’s just the way the clothes hang off of him. “No, it’s alright. You can just – um, you’re good.”
“I’m…?”
“You’re good,” you repeat and then you have to fight for control over your own body, so that you can turn around and break eye contact before it actually kills you. “When can you start? Do you have a phone number? Um, so we can get in touch with you about scheduling and training and verify your location and such and so forth.”
Okay, that last sentence was hastily tacked on. You’ll be the first to admit that much. But what kind of girl would you look like, asking a random stranger for his number out of the blue?
You hear more than you see him shuffle his feet, still lingering awkwardly in the doorway. “Um, no, sorry. I don’t have a phone.”
“E-mail?”
“Ah..no…would communication via letter be alright?”
What is his problem?
He shows up, four minutes past closing, poorly dressed and clearly in poor health, as well, to inquire about a job opening, and doesn’t even have a phone or any form of contact to provide other than handwritten correspondence?
Is this a prank? Are you being pranked, right now? You pause your fastidious, frustrated handling of today’s arranged bouquets just to surreptitiously scan your surroundings for any hidden cameras.
It’s like the man of your dreams has walked through the door. It’s almost too good to be true. You know you have eclectic tastes—and this is exactly why you’ve never had a boyfriend, before.
Because what living man could possibly compare to the fictional freakshows you stay up late at night reading about? Who would be worth fawning over, when you are already well equipped with a wealth of off-putting – and, quite frankly, disturbing – characters of ill-repute? Never has there been a living, breathing vessel capable of catching your jaded, heavy eyes.
Until now, that is.
“Sure,” you say, allowing the brain-rot to take control of your faculties. “Give me one second to write down our mailing information.”
But before you can cling desperately to another excuse to evade his magnetic presence, the strange boy speaks up, alluring you with the unsettlingly tranquil timbre of his voice: “That won’t be necessary. I can hand deliver the letters every day, around this time.”
You blink, sizing him up once more. Any normal human being would find this situation incredibly odd and even worth of a police report.
However, you’re comfortable in your own skin and are able to recognize that the screws you’ve knocked loose over time have, for better or worse, permanently altered your threshold for “red” or “green” flag recognition. For all you care, the flag could be purple. You aren’t thinking about flags right now. You’re thinking about his murky bangs, dark and deep, a rich obsidian, metastasizing over the smooth expanse of his alabaster forehead like a natural disaster.
“Okay. I’ll be waiting at this time every night, then.”
For the first time this evening, his gaunt face split into a tender grin, pink lips parting like spliced flesh. Somehow, he’s able to make the act of smiling something gory, something haunting. Your eyes are glued to the bone-white of his teeth. It’s like watching a car crash. You want, desperately, to look away. You cannot.
“I’m glad,” says the strange boy. “I’ll be here every night, right on time.”
A soft breeze stirs outside, just restless enough to tickle teasingly at the windchimes which dangle from the shop’s awning. Usually, the barrier of the front door dulls the melody. Tonight, you can hear the bells loud and clear.
Before you can think to demand (beg) that he reveal additional identifying information about himself – like, say, his name – the boy has all but disappeared from sight. Incredulously, you whirl around on your heel, scanning every visible inch of the shop for any possible clue as to where he went. But your searching is all for naught. It seems that he is, both in presence and absence, a complete mystery to you.
Well. There are certainly worse things that have happened to you. At least you got to chat with a cute, creepy guy for your trouble.
;
The next day, Granny Orimoto abstains from work yet again. Her modest apartment sitting atop the flower shop has kept her out of sight for many days, now. You’re no stranger to her fits and bursts of ill health, but you cannot recall the last time the brusque, full-hearted old lady has been bedridden for such a prolonged length of time.
You almost consider trying to drop by unannounced to bring her some soup and vitamins, but the thought dies immediately upon arrival. Memories of the last time you’d tried to caretake for her and were subsequently thrown out with indignant, irate gusto are enough to curb your momentary sympathy.
This means that you are effectively head of shop, once more. Over time, it gets easier to deal with the random accidents prone to any small, self-run business: leaks, clogs, jams, flickering lights, disappearing items, strange sounds at odd hours with an unlocatable source. All of it, you handle with def improvisational methods.
Even the spontaneously shattering bathroom mirror is no match for your handywoman capabilities! Really, Granny Orimoto should be lucky that it is you who happened to show up on her doorstep just as her health began to take a dive.
These are the kinds of thoughts buzzing around your skull as twilight descends upon the horizon like flies to a carcass. The death of the day is, as usual, a bloody affair: hues of bright vermillion spill across the sky, setting everything in the shop a brilliant, flagrant shade of fresh-burning red. The terracotta pots seem almost to be radiating with internal heat.
Night comes soon enough, bringing with it a brisk chill in the air. The wind rustles the windchimes, a forewarning of what is to come.
And sure enough, at 8:04 P.M., there he is, lingering in the doorway, daring to take not one step past the threshold, just as he’d done yesterday, that first night.
“Good evening.”
Clutched in his fingers is a wrinkled letter, wrapped in plain stationery. He offers it to you with both hands, politely.
The space between the both of you evaporates in the fraction of a second it takes for you to cross the shop and greet him back, accepting the letter with greedy hands and a greedier heart. “Good evening. Thank you for the correspondence.”
“Thank you for receiving it,” he replies, scratching the back of his head in a stupidly endearing self-conscious gesture. “I know the manner of communication is a bit unconventional… sorry about that…”
“It’s okay.” And it really is. You, of all people, are no stranger to unforeseen and harrowing life circumstances. That the young man does not possess a phone or email address is not so uncommon, anyways – you’ve had time to reflect on the situation, and for all his off-putting looks and strangely formal manner of speaking, he could easily be a country mouse who has recently relocated to a more urban area. Who are you to judge?
“Shall I have a response waiting for you tomorrow night?”
He bows, then, for a bit longer and a bit deeper than what is normally appropriate for two virtual strangers. “I’d be grateful. Thank you for the trouble.”
Once more, he evaporates seemingly into thin air, leaving behind not even the faintest trace of his existence. He appears to possess an uncanny ability to slip out of sight just as your eyes fall shut in the millisecond it takes to blink, to breathe.
Taken in stride with his dark-circled eyes and general aura of mysterious tragedy, the whole schtick is a little bit sexy, you have to admit. His vibe is that of a haunted family heirloom: beautiful, priceless, stained in generations of blood and cursed to doom those who dare to draw too near.
Your eagerness is almost feral as you tear apart the seal to the envelope in your hands, greedily pawing at the innards. What awaits you is a handwritten letter, complete with smudged pencil marks obscuring some of the more intricate kanji scribbled onto the page. Some of his radicals waver, lines bending or sprawling in odd and abnormal ways, as though he’d been shaking when we wrote it.
As though he’d been nervous. So nervous, in fact, that upon handing you the thing, he had to immediately abscond from the premises without another word.
Cute.
To Whom it May Concern,
Thank you very kindly for your willingness to take me on as an apprentice to your shop. Please allow me to introduce myself.
My name is Okkotsu Yuuta. I am a recent graduate of a martial arts vocational school. I just completed a year-long internship abroad in Africa. Due to my recent re-entry into Japan, I am still in the process of setting up my phone and internet. I apologize for the inconvenience and I am extremely sorry for the burden.
As a supervisor and business, you may benefit from the set of skills that I have to offer. I can lift upwards of 25kg. I am neat and detail oriented. Due to past life experiences, I am a fast learner and quick to adapt to new surroundings. I am accustomed to taking orders and delivering results. It is my utmost goal to ensure the comfort and satisfaction of those around me. I am eager to be of service.
Please think of me kindly.
Upon reading the very last word of the very last line, you discover that your bottom lip has been bitten so severely that a fine trickle of blood is descending down your chin.
There is no resume or CV in sight – just this handwritten, strangle little letter in which he divulges some most interesting truths.
Is he playing mind games with you? “Accustomed to taking orders”? “Eager to be of service”? Is he trying to tell you something? Outside of the hiring process, that is.
The note itself is perfectly polite and proper. It’s you whose mind succumbs hedonistically to the gutter. Oh, for shame.
At night, the shop tends to turn into a gnarly jungle of pots and leaves and vines and poorly-placed smatterings of soil; you wade through theses trenches, aided by no more than the moonlight attempting to feebly infiltrate through the shutters – as the lights are out, again. Should probably call someone about that.
In your frantic haste, it’s a miracle your hands aren’t sliced by a spare pair of shears lying forgotten on some counter or another. Before injury occurs, you’ve already located what you’ve been searching for: a usable pen and some clean, uncrumpled paper.
The matchbox in your back pocket proves useful as you strike up a flame and light a nearby candle, paying no mind to the potential danger of the wobbly column of fire in a room full of fauna.
Like a woman possessed, you feverishly scribble away at your reply. It takes you longer to draft this one particular letter than it had to complete your college entrance exams.
But it’s alright – the candle beside you burns throughout the night, neither the wick nor the wax diminishing even a wink.
Dear Okkotsu,
Your eagerness to work hard is clearly evident. Color me impressed.
As fate would have it, I am in dire need of some help with running the shop. The owner has been absent with illness for quite some time and the workload is starting to get unmanageable. The addition of a strong set of arms is more than welcome. Even when it was the two of us putzing around, we still wouldn’t have been able to do some of the heavier lifting.
I’m curious to hear more about your passion to serve. Was this instilled in you during your time at vocational school? What does “being of service” mean to you?
While we are ultimately a public-facing shop, the stream of customers is slow, and your daily tasks will often look like physical labor and horticultural activities. But, from your letter, it sounds like this will pose no object.
Overall, your enthusiasm is appreciated and your hard-working attitude is attractive to future employers.
You could start as early as tomorrow.
Please do respond at your convenience.
It was rather quickly with only a slight bit of panic running through your veins that you tacked on “to future employers.” Even while reading it back, you cringe a little bit. Too forward? Oh well. It’s written in ink and it’s much too late to go for hunting for another clean piece of paper in the shop’s opaque blackness.
Speaking of which… you really should call an electrician. And a plumber. And some sort of handy man, to help you clean up all the broken glass from the shattered bathroom mirror. And maybe it may also me a good idea to get in touch with a security footage company and inquire about their installation rates. It certainly can’t be normal; how many things go missing so frequently. Although you’ve spent most of your waking hours with an aging elderly woman up until very recently, you’re quite sure that dementia isn’t contagious.
Ah, well. These are all things to take care of tomorrow. Sighing, you tuck away the letter into your back pocket for safe keeping before you go about locking up.
You try not to think too hard about the lingering gaze you feel on the back of your neck. If anything, it feels better than being completely alone.
;
The fragrant scent of okayu fills your nose as you climb the stairs to reach Granny Orimoto’s apartment.
Usually, you would not dare to trespass inside her abode, despite it’s close proximity to the shop. She is a grouchy old lady who does not take kindly to meddling. And yet, you couldn’t ignore the seed of worry in the pit of your belly, which had blossomed over the course of the past few weeks into full-blown concern for her wellbeing. Besides her once-daily text message in the evening confirming the status of shop operations, you have not seen or heard from the old woman in what must be almost half a month at this point.
So, you’ve bitten back your pride and prepared a meal to personally deliver to her.
You are moderately concerned when there is no response to your three separate attempts at knocking on the door. Granny Orimoto hadn’t responded to any of your text messages, so you’d naively assumed she’d been asleep and hadn’t seen them. But is it possible to sleep through the ruckus that you’re creating?
The tension in your body only heightens when you try to the doorknob and realize, in shock and slight horror, that it’s open.
“Granny Orimoto?” You call out, haltingly yet loudly – loud enough to reach her wizened ears. “Granny, I’m sorry, I’ll be coming in now! Pardon the intrusion!”
Taking care not to jostle the still-hot bowl of rice porridge in your hands, you slip off your shoes at the Genkan and make your way inside of the apartment. Although you’ve only been here once before – and it had been an extremely brief stay before Granny Orimoto had shooed you off the premises – it still doesn’t feel all that unfamiliar to you.
It’s a traditional set-up, that much is for sure. Not much has changed, either. Same old floral blankets folded in various assortments and piles around the tiny room, same old plastic draining rack laid across the kitchen sink.
And, of course, there is that strange pair of guest slippers by the front door.
A bright, childish pink with the width and depth to accompany the foot of a young girl no older than six, these slippers had given you pause the first time you’d set foot in Granny Orimoto’s apartment. As far as you know, the old lady doesn’t have any living relatives with which she maintains contact. She spends every holiday alone, in her room, and refuses any offers of companionship between the two of you. You’ve always assumed something tragic must have happened, for a woman this advanced in age to have no one to visit or host during the New Year.
So why, then, does she keep a pair of children’s house slippers by the front door?
Although they are neatly placed and carefully aligned, the heels of the slippers face the direction of the household – as though they’ve been recently taken off and exchanged for outside shoes. Like someone has been here and left. Were they in that position when you stopped by before? Perhaps Granny Orimoto set them that way during her last cleaning.
Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you move past the entrance area and towards where you know the bedroom awaits. There is no overt stench of death and decay, so you aren’t afraid of walking in on her corpse. You’re, like, 85% sure that you could mentally recover from handling that situation, but it would be unfortunate and would likely mean an endless night for you and the poor EMTs who would be dispatched to the scene.
The bedroom door, too, is slightly ajar, and when you push it open all the way, you’re greeted by a sight that hits you squarely in the chest, knocking the wind from your lungs, stealing your voice, marring your eyes with shock and sympathy.
Granny Orimoto lies on her back, skin so pale that it is a near perfect match to the futon covers draped around her frail body. Even from this distance, you are able to clearly track the pathway of her veins as they course across her, the deep blues and greens standing out abnormally against the thin, alabaster flesh. Her hair, significantly grayer than the last time you’d seen her, has escaped from it’s usual, customary low-slung bun. You’ve never seen Granny Orimoto in any other kind of style – in fact, you’d begun to think – somewhat mischievously – that her hair had been surgically arranged to the nape of her neck.
But now, it sprawls around her skull in scraggly spirals, spilling across the pillow like leaking liquid. Thin and brittle, you’re sure that if she tried to gather it into a bun as she once had, it would split and break into a million fine pieces of ash.
“So, you’ve come.”
That hoarse voice snaps you out of your trance. You hadn’t even noticed that she was awake. One moment, you’d been gazing at her motionless body – and the next, you find her entirely unchanged except for the fact that her eyes are now open, peering at you. Unblinking. It’s disconcerting.
It looks like the effort pains her, to lift one hand and pat weakly at the comforter. “You came all the way here, silly girl. Might as well sit.”
You aren’t being kicked out?
Wow. She really must be dying.
Gingerly, you fold your legs beneath you and linger at the edge of the futon. “Granny, how are you feeling? I brought okayu. If you are feeling up to it, please eat. You must take care of your health.”
“Alright then,” says Granny Orimoto, mildly. “You’ll have to help me.”
“Of course.”
There is ultimately an insignificant amount of spillage down the front of her shirt, in the end. Still, you take it as an opportunity to encourage her to take a bath and change into fresh clothes, which you expect she has not done in far too long. This, too, requires your assistance. You don’t mind it at all. In fact, it brings you peace – to be able to care for the woman who had most probably saved your life by taking you in, all that time ago.
When it’s all said and done, Granny Orimoto lays back in the bed. The sheets could use some washing and the futon itself should surely be hung out in the sun to dry, but you recognize that this might be a bit too much excitement for her today. Having eaten and bathed, Granny Orimoto appears ready to return to her slumber.
You decide not to push your luck by overstaying your welcome. “Please rest well, Granny Orimoto. I will come back soon.”
It is when you are almost past the threshold of the bedroom door that you hear Granny’s whisper, faint as smoke and so soft it almost doesn’t sound like the stubborn, strong-willed woman you once knew:
“You remind me of my granddaughter.”
As though you’ve been struck by lightning, your body is immediately paralyzed, muscles helpless to do anything but twitch in confusion, overstimulation. “Oh…? I hope she is well…”
“She’s dead,” says Granny Orimoto. “The stench of death follows you.”
Ironic, coming from a woman who is quite obviously preparing to approach the far shore herself. “I see.”
“Whatever is hanging around you, get it taken care of. You’ll stink up the shop and the plants will wither.”
“Yes, Granny.”
“Are you taking care of my zinnias?”
“Yes, Granny.”
“Better be. How can you own a flower shop if you can’t take care of zinnias…”
You want to whip around and ask her what the hell she means by that, but the rumbling of her soft snores fill the space before you can get another word in edgewise.
As you make your way downstairs, Granny’s words continue to marinate in your mind – and not just her implication that the shop would be left to you. That she thought it fit to tell you that you remind her of her dead granddaughter was certainly an event that occurred in your life. But what exactly had she been on about, telling you that you smell like death?
In absentminded thought, your hand fiddles around in your jacket pocket with the latest letter from Okkotsu. You can’t stop thinking about his response to your last letter.
To You, Whom it Concerns,
Are you taking care? The seasons are changing during this time, so I hope your health is faring well.
I’m glad that my enthusiasm comes across as clearly as my physical capabilities. Sometimes I struggle to convey my intentions and inner thoughts. It seems like we can understand each other well, even while communicating through letters, which makes me happy.
To me, being of service means unobstructed and clear-minded dedication of the self, body and mind, to another’s fulfillment. Not dissimilar to pure love. This “pure” element is important to me. In fact, I believe total service is a form of pure love. Would you agree?
Maybe this is a bit strange to say, and you might hate me for it, but you remind me of a girl I once knew. She is long gone now. It has been nice to see some of her, again. Of course, it has been even nicer to get to know you.
Regretfully, I cannot begin formal employment just yet. The country re-entry procedures are taking longer than expected and things are a bit complicated right now. It is burdensome, but if you could please kindly allow for some additional time I would be very grateful. I’m sorry to trouble you.
In the meantime, it’s fun to chat together, like this. I’d be happy if we could continue.
Take care not to catch a cold.
The first time you’d read it practically had you squealing into your hands like a schoolgirl. Pure love? Expressing concern for your health? Expressing his desire to continue exchanging letters, even if he can’t formally start the training process?
At this rate, you’re on track towards a confession.
Which, of course, is the ultimate goal. You could never forgive yourself for letting the physical manifestation of all your wildest fantasies slip away. No, you’ve got to reel him in. You’ve got to ensnare him in a web of infatuation, so convoluted and intense that he won’t be able to find his way out. You’ve already decided that he is yours. It’s only a matter of time before things fall into place.
As has become customary, Okkotsu drops by the shop at precisely 8:04 p.m. and not one moment sooner or later. You’ve grown to anticipate the tinkling of the windchimes which herald his otherwise soundless arrival. Like an apparition, his visage manifests in the front door.
There’s something different about tonight: uncertain, he chances a foot past the threshold. “Could I trouble you to come inside?”
Oh. Oh! Are you finally past the stage of contactless letter exchange? You could cry tears of joy. “Please come in.”
“Pardon the intrusion…”
When he breaks past the entry area, it’s as though a wave of heat pulses throughout not just your own body, but the entire shop, as well. A light sweat breaks out at the crest of your brow. Is this seasonally appropriate? You aren’t sure if there is any season wherein a heatwave past sundown is normal.
Okkotsu looks at you like a lost puppy, floundering at what to do, what to say next. You yourself are no less awkward, but you take on the burden of breaking the silence first:
“It’s funny, you mentioned in your letter that I remind you of a girl you once knew. Today, my boss said that I remind her of her dead granddaughter. Wouldn’t happen to be the same girl, huh?”
You’re trying for lighthearted, but the joke falls flat when Okkotsu pales, white as a ghost.
Damage control, damage control! “Oh, I’m – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, no, it’s alright,” he cuts you off, raising a hand. “I should’ve been forthright from the beginning. You aren’t too far off from the truth.”
Huh?
Okkotsu continues, “When I was a little boy, Mrs. Orimoto’s granddaughter and I were best friends. Her name was Rika. When she was six, Rika died in a car accident. I was with her at the time and failed to do anything to stop it from happening, or to save her. I’ve always been very sorry to Mrs. Orimoto, who raised Rika from a young age. By working at her shop, I hoped to repay some of that debt…”
You blink once, twice. Time seems to fall apart and reconstruct itself in the space it takes you to conjure up a response. What can you possibly say, to a story like that?
“You don’t, er, have to say anything,” mutters Okkotsu, as though he’s read your mind. “I know it’s heavy. But that’s the truth…”
“Okkotsu,” you say, voice tinny and faraway to your own ears. “You have a good heart.”
His downcast face shoots upwards, wide eyes seeking out your own with a desperate sheen to their dark, bottomless depths. “Huh…?”
“I mean it,” you press on, stepping closer as you do. He doesn’t even flinch or waver. You know this, because your senses are acutely aware of every fiber of his being. “Not many people would be that brave, or honor that sense of duty. You’re an admirable man. Has anyone ever told you that before?”
It seems you’ll be staying well past closing tonight to mop up the puddle that Okkotsu is about to melt into. His ears burn such a bright red that they almost glow in the dim lighting of the shop.
“I- I--!”
“So that’s the depth of your service,” you muse, your toes stopping just shy of his own, “or your ‘pure love’?”
Okkotsu’s eyes flutter shut. The sound of his gulp echoes like a gunshot. “Ah… er, miss manager, I—”
“Call me by my name. I’ve written it to you for a reason.”
Obeying your direct command, he feebly whispers your name, invoking you like he’s scared of what he’s about to summon. It sets a live wire alight at the base of your spine. Sparks fly throughout your body and it’s all you can do not to pounce on him then and there in this very shop, sleeping Granny upstairs be damned.
“Good. It seems you really are skilled at taking direction.”
His eyes are still closed when you nods, face flushed. Cute. You can’t help but want to tease him more, push him further. “Good job.”
His head all but hangs, now, as he resolutely refuses to make eye contact with you. In front of him, his hands are clasped suspiciously in front of his crotch – a detail which you take in ravenously, hungrily.
Curbing the overwhelming desire to do more, you settle with pushing your sealed envelope into his firm, solid chest with both hands, letting your fingernails press lightly into the muscle. “Here’s today’s letter. Read it and respond well.”
“Yes, I understand,” he says, eyes still shut, head still hung.
It requires you to stand on your tiptoes, when you try to lean into his ear and whisper: “You deserve a chance to make things right. Let me help you with this.”
You let him go, then, because you’re sure he’s about ready to burst at the seams. The last thing you throw his way is yet another bit of praise, because you’re a little bit awful: “I admire your idea of pure love, Okkotsu.”
Before tonight, you’ve never seen a grown man walk straight into a windowpane. Okkotsu reels back, nods and bows to you in acknowledgement before hightailing it out of the shop so fast that, as usual, you fail to actually see him go through the motions of stepping out and leaving. He’s always in such a rush. An odd one, he is.
Good thing “odd” just your type.
From that night onwards, Okkotsu starts making himself more available outside of his usual 8:04 p.m. haunting. Now, he’ll drop by early enough in the afternoons for his shadow to be visible against the door. Still, he resolutely avoids any times when current customers are present. You tease him, lightly, for this, asking how he plans to work partially as a sales attendant if he is afraid to interact with the customer base.
His response?
“I want to work here for two reasons,” he’d stated simply. “For you, and for Rika.”
Normal women would probably find an issue with their ideal man likening them to his dead childhood sweetheart. Fortunately, you are not normal. It’s flattering, even.
Clearly, Rika was another manifestation of his pure love. That you can even approach that category, let alone be mentioned in the same breath as her, is, to you, a vibrant green flag. You must be doing something right here.
So you continue intertwining yourself deeper and deeper with Okkotsu Yuuta: the letters are a constant in both of your daily lives, as well as his visits become more frequent. As an interesting development, he’s started to bring you homecooked food. Usually, it is you who does the caregiving. The first time he shows up with an obento made specially for you – complete with a heart made out of specially cut seaweed set atop the fresh rice – you almost start crying.
Admittedly, it’s all moving very fast. Hasn’t it only been four days, now, since he’d first darkened your doorway, pitifully asking for a job with no form of communication? And now, here he is, feeding you the food he’d prepared for you to enjoy as you go about your closing shift.
“Would you ever want to go out?” You blurt, and then pause, mortified at the overtly forward implication to your words. “Like! To a restaurant! Or a café! You always bring me stuff. Let me treat you.”
“Hmmm…”
Okkotsu’s wide, dark eyes roll upwards in thought. “But I really like staying here. I like eating here. No one else gets to see your pleased, comfortable face while eating except me. I don’t think I can share that. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you respond, dizzy. “You don’t have to.”
This is the right answer. Despite his soft, youthful features, the ginger grin he offers you is undercut by the ominous glint in his intense gaze. “I don’t have to share?” He gathers some pickled plum in the chopsticks, bringing them to your open, waiting mouth. “It’s all for me?”
“I am,” you say, and accept the bitter, delicious fruit on the tip of your tongue. It is pungent. It is sweet. It is overwhelming. You almost aren’t able to swallow.
Time spent with Okkotsu makes life seem so fantastical that it almost blinds you to the world of the living. That night, you cannot find it within yourself to leave the shop and go home after closing, instead opting to chat with this gaunt, ghoulish boy until you are startled awake in the morning by your phone’s automatic alarm.
When you come to, you discover that you’d all but passed out behind the front desk, where the two of you had sat, talking, for hours into the night. Okkotsu is nowhere to be found, but in his absence is a crisply folded piece of paper lying innocently upon the desk. Hastily, you scrub at your eyes and smack your lips, trying to wake yourself up as much as is possible before you unfurl the letter and dive into its contents.
To You, Whom it Concerns,
Do you have any idea how difficult it is to be apart from you?
If I could have, I would have stayed with you all throughout the night. I’m sorry to have left you by yourself. But you aren’t really alone. If you ever feel lonely, in the shop, please remember that I’m always there with you. Watching over you. Can you feel me?
Thanks for listening to me last night. It was a heavy story to tell, but now that I’ve confessed it, I feel so much lighter. And you accept me! Words can’t express how I feel, so please allow me to keep showing you.
Also, since Mrs. Orimoto isn’t well these days, can I ask that you don’t share with her that I’m here? The shock may worsen her condition. When she is no longer bedridden, I will tell her myself that I wish to remain and work in the shop. You shouldn’t be caught in the middle of my situation.
As always, I can’t wait to see you again. I miss you so much already, and I haven’t even left the shop yet. I’m writing this as I watch you sleep. Did you know that you snore a little bit? It’s cute.
Please think of me often.
On the one hand, you want to bury your face in your hands and scream and cry and maybe roll around and die a little bit. A love note! It’s a proper love note, this time. The thought makes your insides feel as though they’re being set alight with a bright, brilliant, inextinguishable flame.
On the other hand, Okkotsu’s mention of Granny Orimoto has brought to mind the fact that you haven’t heard from her in what is now two days. Usually, she’ll send you a message or two at the end of every day, making sure that things are in order and that you haven’t burned down the shop yet. But the last time you’d spoken to her had been when you brought over the okayu to soothe her sickly stomach…
Inexplicably, a chill overtakes your body.
Operating on autopilot, you pull yourself together – running a hand through your hair, smoothing your wrinkled clothes – and make your way out of the shop, to the external set of stairs running along the west wall.
With haste, you climb the steps, nearly tripping over yourself to reach the front door which has been left, once again, unlocked. The sense of wrongness occupying your faculties only heightens when you realize this must mean that Granny Orimoto has not been up out of bed since you’d last visited.
When you stop to toe off your shoes at the genkan, you notice that the bright pink pair of children’s house slippers are nowhere to be found, absent from their perpetual perch by the front door, as though someone – or something – has stepped inside.
Mind whirling a mile a minute, you push into the apartment and immediately reel back at the offensive scent of pure, unadulterated rot.
Oh.
Oh, no.
It could be the spoiled ingredients in the fridge, you think, desperately, as you hustle towards the bedroom. It could be anything. Anything but what it is you’re most afraid of.
Dazed, confused, scared, and still freshly woken up, your clumsy limbs somehow manage to collide with one of the low-sitting tables filling the living space. The abundance of knick-knacks and keepsakes cluttering the surface clatter in indignation, making an obscene ruckus as they fall over and to the floor. Upon closer inspection, you realize, to your horror, that it is an altar which you’d disturbed.
The only things left unshaken by your blundering blight are two framed photos: one of which displays the portrait of a young girl, no older than six, with long, dark hair and a serene smile. She seems to peer at you through the barriers of the picture frame, through the barrier of time. Her gaze hooks into your soul and invites you to step closer, to look harder. The longer you stare, the higher the gooseflesh on your skin raises in alarm. It’s an uphill battle to slide your gaze over to the picture beside her, which displays the likeness of a young boy close to her in age – presumably unrelated to her, given their distinct features, and yet, he is placed next to her on what is surely a memorial altar meant to honor and house the deceased.
While the personal effects and other supplicating items have all been disrupted and thrown off by your collision, the incense in front of the two picture frames still burns brightly, steadfastly. Oddly, it does nothing to quell the horrid stench of decay in the apartment. If anything, the altar seems to be exasperating the smell, which brings involuntary tears to your eyes and a pucker to your lips.
It's less so that the stench itself is what drives you to such a reaction; rather, the sensation invading your olfactory senses fills you with an abominable concoction of violent emotions: rage, pity, sorrow, envy, despair. You are drawn follow the source of these feelings, and your feet lead you to the bedroom, hands trembling underneath the sheer weight of all that you are experiencing as they push the slightly ajar door all the way open.
A gasp escapes you, unbidden. There, in that same, white futon adorned with layers and layers of her signature floral blankets, lies the corpse of Granny Orimoto. You can tell she’s dead because her skin has started to sag and bloat in strange and inhuman ways. This is the least surprising thing before your eyes.
Next to Granny sits a little girl – the spitting image of the girl in the portrait you’d glimpsed mere moments ago. Her gaze had once been trained steadfastly on Granny’s body, but now she looks up at you, unblinking, all-seeing.
“Hello,” says the girl, with a little girl’s voice.
“Hi,” you respond. “Do you live here?”
“Yes,” says the girl. “This is my granny.”
You remind me of my granddaughter.
She’s dead.
Granny Orimoto’s parting words to you echo in your head, rattling your brain, fizzling your consciousness.
“It’s nice to meet you, Rika. Granny Orimoto told me about you.”
Slowly, cautiously, as though you are approaching a spooked animal (ironic, given the fact that it is you who is shaking like a leaf), you crouch down and kneel on the floor, sitting on your haunches in a polite manner, mirroring the girl before you. Granny Orimoto’s body is the only thing separating you as you both sit, face to face, hands clasped in your laps, peering curiously at one another.
“I know,” says Rika. “Yuuta told you about me, too.”
Of course she would know about the conversations you and Yuuta have. This also might as well happen. At this point, after all you’ve just witnessed – first, the fresh corpse of your former employer, and now, the physical manifestation of a girl who died over ten years ago – there is very little left that could happen which would truly shock you out of your wits.
“Yes, he did. Have you been hanging out in the shop? Have you been lonely?”
The girl sticks out her bottom lip. “Yeah. You guys didn’t pay attention to me. Even when I was really loud, or turned the lights off, or broke the mirror. Sorry for breaking the mirror. I was mad.”
“It’s okay to be mad, but we mustn’t break things, or hurt others. I’m sorry for not noticing you sooner. Do you like plants and gardening? Like your granny?”
Rika nods. “Mhm, yeah. But Granny never lets me into the shop. Granny says all I do is mess things up. Granny says I’m no good. Granny says people died because of me. Did you know my dad is dead, too?”
“I’m sorry,” you say.
“It’s okay,” says Rika. “I wanted him to die.”
You blink. “Did you want Granny Orimoto to die, too?”
She takes a moment to contemplate before answering. “Granny had to die if I was going to play with Yuuta again.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, desperate to understand. When she begins to explain, you lean forward, forgetful of the fact that it is an old woman’s corpse which lies beneath you.
“Granny has already lived for so long. I wanted to come back. I died before my seventh birthday. Yuuta and I were supposed to spend it together. Yuuta never forgot about me. Yuuta talks to me every day. Yuuta went to Africa. Have you ever been to Africa? I went with Yuuta because he made a shrine for me there. Now Yuuta is back in Japan. Yuuta promised that we would play together again. Yuuta said he needed some time to prepare things. Yuuta is good at things like that – Yuuta can fight and do magic. Yuuta does jujutsu. Do you know jujutsu?”
“I know it,” you tell her.
“Yeah, Yuuta has powers. Yuuta knows a lot about dying and things like that. So, anyways, Yuuta said he would use his powers to help me come back so we can play together again. Yuuta said that me and granny have to switch places. I said ‘OK, Yuuta!’ and then Yuuta said he needed seven days. What day is it today?”
Somehow, you know the answer, even without looking at your phone’s calendar. “Monday.”
“Oh, so it’s been seven days. Yay! We can play together again. Do you want to play with us, too?”
“I would like to play together, yes.”
Abruptly, Rika unfurls from her graceful little seated position and makes her way over to you, crawling over Granny Orimoto’s corpse. You try not to think too hard about the graphic squelching that occurs underneath the childish palms of Rika’s tiny hands.
“Yay! Let’s go downstairs. Maybe Yuuta will be there.”
You don’t have the heart to tell her that Yuuta only swings by when the sun is out of sight. Her arms raise, clearly indicating that she’d like to be carried, and you are content to oblige her, as you scoop her up in your arms and make good on her direction. You exit Granny Orimoto’s apartment with Rika in your arms, her little feet dangling from your hip. The bright pink pair of slippers almost fall off as you make your way down the stairs, and you take care to remind her to make sure not to lose them.
When you get back to the shop, you must admit that you were mistaken in thinking Yuuta would not be there. As though he’d been anticipating this – which, you realize, he absolutely was, as this marks seven days from the first time he’d set foot in the shop – Yuuta stands by the front desk, wringing his hands before him nervously, sweat visible at his temples.
The both of you lock eyes, and he smiles, warm and fuzzy and entirely ill-fitting for the increasingly absurd scenario in which you find yourself. But you have little time to interrogate him about what the hell is going on – for Rika leaps from your arms and hits the ground running, screaming at the top of her little lungs, Yuuta!! Yuuta!!!, excited and so full of life, in only the way that children can scream in pure joy. Pure love.
He crouches and readily meets her, scooping the little girl up in his arms and sweeping her into the air, spinning round and round with Rika in his arms. Rika-chan!! Rika-chan!!! he cries – literally cries, that is, as you cannot help but spot the stray tear or two running down the swells of his flushed cheeks.
It is right as you are starting to feel a bit voyeuristic that Yuuta slows to a stop and finds your eyes once more. He comes to you, then, with Rika still perched on his hip, a chafingly tender smile splitting his face into two.
“I knew it was you,” he whispers with charged intensity, voice potent with unspoken feeling. “I knew you were special. I’ve always known. You never judge me. You always listen. You accepted me. And you accepted Rika, too.”
Have you? Accepted them, that is.
You shock yourself when you realize that you really have accepted all that’s transpired. Granny Orimoto saved your life when she’d taken you in and, for that, you must always be grateful. But from what Rika shared with you about how she’d been treated as a small child, and from what you’ve observed from Yuuta’s generally traumatized disposition and extreme reluctance to come face-to-face with the old woman, you realize, now, that there is a reason why Granny Orimoto had no living family to speak to or rely on when she was in her final days.
Whether or not her death had something to do with Yuuta’s apparent preternatural abilities (you remind yourself to ask about that later), it remains clear that she’d been in ill health long before you’d arrived at the flower shop. With no one to talk to. No one to care for her. You’d always felt pity. But, now, you realize that it may have been a situation of her own doing.
How could you argue with the living, breathing testament to that fact, who stand before you in fresh-faced, smiling glee?
“Of course I accept you both,” you say, earnestly, and mean it. “Rika is too cute not to love!” The young girl giggles, bashfully burying her face in Yuuta’s neck.
“And what about me?” Yuuta’s brows are quirked, his smile dipping into something a bit more cutting, a touch more heated than his simple joy from moments ago. “Am I cute enough to love, too?”
The answer is simple and requires no effort on your part: “I love you, Yuuta.”
You had more to say after that, but it proves a bit challenging to monologue your undying devotion to this man while said man is currently enveloping your mouth inside of his own. He kisses like a black hole: devouring, dark, impossibly comprehensive, and providing you without hope for possible escape.
He really is your type.
;
After those first seven days, Yuuta finally begins training at the shop. And Rika joins in, as well.
The three of you make an odd, adorable little family unit. After Yuuta had taken care of cleaning and renovating the apartment space upstairs, the three of you moved in without further delay. Your days are filled with home-cooking, raising Rika, maintaining the shop, and working alongside the man who has quickly made himself to be your life partner in every endeavor.
In fact, so much of your life is consumed with this newfound domesticity that there is little reason for you to leave the shop in the first place. Whenever you stray too far outside, you are prone to headaches, dizziness, fatigue, and even fever. It’s best to stay where is familiar, you reason. And Yuuta’s cooking is too good for you to want to eat anywhere else. He makes sure you eat three times a day, at least, and insists you finish your plate every time. Perhaps this is why you can’t stand life outside of this four, cozy walls – where else could you possibly find contentment such as this?
The business is re-named to “Rika’s Flower Shop,” which all three of you find quite agreeable given the current state of affairs. More customers than ever flow in, attracted by the colorful designs hand-painted by Rika herself on the building exterior. You generate enough revenue for additional renovations to be made on the shop. There is enough room in the budget to hire some part-time shop hands – local university students in the area looking to support themselves.
Everything is coming to fruition. For once, you truly feel as though life is blossoming.
And you can attribute all of it, every last bit of happiness, to them: Granny Orimoto, Rika, and Yuuta. The happiness is so overwhelming that you don’t ever want to leave their side, not even to run to the konbini, or to visit the post office. Why would you need to leave, when everything you’ve ever wanted is right here?
You have a family, a home, a life. You’ll remain in this shop with your loves until the day you grow as old and sickly as Granny Orimoto, and you’ll likely die upstairs, lying next to Yuuta, the both of you wrinkled and gray, curled together atop the futon, exactly where Granny had wheezed her last, bitter breath.
You wonder if Rika was there to watch it happen. You wonder if Rika will be there to see the both of you off, too.
You hope so. You really, really hope so.
You’re sure death will be every bit the dream you’re hoping it will be.
#okkotsu yuuta x reader#okkotsu yuta x reader#jjk reader insert#jjk x reader#okkotsu yuuta reader insert#okkotsu yuta reader insert#jjk ao3#jjk fic#okkotsu yuuta fic#okkotsu yuuta fanfiction#okkotsu yuta fic#jjk fanfiction#my writing#mine#commissions
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「 A FALLEN MIRACLE 」
ღ okkotsu yuta x gn. reader — wc. 2.5k
synopsis: never did he think that he would have to say goodbye so soon. not like this...
After losing Rika, Yuta felt his life crash down on him like a pile of bricks. And since then, he approached everything and anyone with a sense of caution. After all that he had been through his entire life, who could blame him?
Even so, Yuta still genuinely cared about people, and he especially found himself being increasingly attracted to you.
When Yuta was taken to Jujutsu Tech, you, also a first-year student, were initially asked by Gojo to mentor him and just generally help him get through life. You wondered why it was you, but when you looked back at it, and also at the rest of your classmates… it’s no wonder. There weren't exactly a plethora of options to begin with.
It was the option between a talking, horny panda, a boy who could hardly even communication, if you could even call it talking through the phrases of onigiri ingredients “communication,” and a girl with borderline anger issues.
You never had a choice on the subject—not while Gojo was at the helm—but that was beside the point. Your friendship with Yuta started off rough. He was a timid young boy constantly struggling to find his voice, quite literally. There was nothing he would say no to, and even less if that order came from you.
But over time, that awkwardness slowly morphed into something of a true friendship. A sort of bond forged in the trust you built for him, with a connection that grew stronger with each passing day. Up until then, at nearly any point of the day, wherever and whatever you were doing, you would have another figure following you wherever you went. It was to the point where everybody knew of Yuta’s undeniable infatuation with you. It was indeed a surprise to even the likes of Gojo. Well, it wasn’t like Yuta was particularly known for hiding his feelings.
Yuta admired you so much. You had nerves of complete steel. You were confident, resilient, and strong. And above all that, you were selfless. You would, without a second thought, put yourself at risk rather than allow any of your fellow sorcerers and friends to get hurt.
But that would be your biggest weakness.
What all of the first-years expected to be a simple mission to exorcize a single rouge cursed spirit that was terrorizing the townspeople, turned into a complete and utter nightmare. One that no one would’ve ever expected.
And especially not to someone so young…
It all started off lighthearted. The first-years, you, Maki, Toge, Panda, and Yuta, walked along the path where the cursed spirit was said to be, or at the very least around the area.
“Maybe we should split up,” Maki ordered when, by that point, they had been walking around for 30 minutes, and yet there was no sight of any spirits.
“I agree,” you nodded.
Maki placed her hand over her hips, looking over the others as she unofficially took the handle of the leader. “So, as for who gets paired with who, how about—”
“Yuta and [Y/n] should be together!” Panda piped in with a ginormous grin, shoving Maki to the side with his body.
“Why, you…” Maki scowled. If looks could kill, Panda would be flying off the face of the earth.
Ignoring the fire that was burning from Maki, the panda then slung his arm around Yuta’s shoulders, musing, “Yuta and [Y/n] would make a good team, especially when paired with their techniques. Besides, they’ve gone on missions together plenty of times. It’s a no-brainer! Right, Yuta~?”
It was painfully obvious what Panda was trying to get at. And unfortunately for Yuta, Panda hit the exact nail on the head.
The poor boy gaped, scampering with his words, only managing to find a couple that he could even say out loud. “I-I mean… I’m okay with it.”
Ignoring the blatant ear-piercing noise happening around you, you nodded your head. “Me too.”
And there it was, the two of you together, walking side by side. You had your hands clasped together behind your back, humming to a tune that Yuta was all too familiar with, having practically been attached to your hip since getting to know you.
Yuta clutched his katana tightly against his chest. It was embarrassing enough that Panda had brought up the topic, but now there was even more pressure to prove himself to you.
“…Argh!?” Yuta’s foot almost slipped as you suddenly paused right in front of him. “[Y/n]?!” he sputtered, taking a frantic step back to put some distance between you two.
“Yuta~,” you mused. “I thought we were closer than that. Don’t tell me that I was the only one feeling this way?”
Yuta’s cheeks went red. “I, uh…”
“Haha, I’m just kidding around. I hoped that would lighten the mood. But I guess I was mistaken. Sorry about scaring you. Are you alright?” Your foot inched ever closer to his flushed face, pressing him into an undeniable blush.
His mouth was agape. “I-I-I!?”
“C’mon, let's go,” you hummed, already beginning to walk off, leaving Yuta speechless.
“Ah… r-right!”
And it didn’t take long, as just as you two were walking along a new set of pathways, and Yuta hesitated but quickly scurried beside you.
Before long, your footsteps were opposed to the ground, suspiciously cranking your eyes to the alleyway next to your two and narrowing your eyes at the dark alleyway. Though it appeared barren without a soul in sight, what you were sensing was anything but.
Yuta, now with his hand over the sheath of his katana, took a cautious step closer to wherever the obscurity was in that alleyway, feeling the chills.
“Hey, guess today is our lucky day, huh?” you grinned, readying your weapons.
He meekly nodded. “Yeah.” Yuta tightened the grip on the handle of his katana. Looking upward, something was floating in the air—a second-grade cursed spirit—and just as lucky, it was precisely the one they had been looking for. Though the darkness of the alleyway hindered his sight, its size and presence were easily distinguishable.
“Let's bring this one down together.”
But just as those words left your mouth, another strong presence came from right behind you.
You clicked your tongue. “Another one? That wasn’t what they mentioned to us earlier.”
Yuta looked side to side, and then back at you, but you weren’t panicked at all. In fact, far from it. “Yuta, you handle that one over there. I’ve got this one.”
“R-Right!”
He trusted you.
Side by side, you both covered each other's backs. And it didn’t take long for blood to be shed. Nasty welts and bruises spread across the cursed spirit's body, and with a swift swipe, you finished it off with your cursed technique with ease. Horrifying screams of agony blasted through the sound barriers of both the student's eardrums from the curse as it flopped onto the bloodied ground, dead in its state.
“Phew.”
You turned your head, seeing that the cursed spirit was also just as still, lying lifeless beside Yuta as he speechlessly sent you a grimace.
“Good work,” you nodded. You wiped away the blood that was on your cheek. “Hah… well, guess that's it.”
Yuta meekly nodded his head, wiping down the blood from his katana.
“Yuta, how's it going over ther—” your head turned.
A shadow had appeared from below to loom over right over him.
“Y-Yuta!”
It wasn’t dead.
“Yuta! Get out of the way!”
“H-Huh?” Just as everything was cooling down, he thought, Yuta heard a voice coming from his right, and then another.
With one glance thrown the other way, he was shoved to the ground, giving him full access to the horror he would see next.
In just a second, blood poured from your throat and splattered to the ground. A cursed spirit had gotten after him, and yet it was you who was now collapsed onto the ground, holding onto dear life.
Yuta’s eyes went bloodshot red, and with his katana, immediately went for it, stabbing it. He looked on in terror as he saw your entire body slashed and crimson fluid dripping from all ends. Your trembling mouth was trying to say something.
“Huh? W-What is it…?” he shook, stumbling over his words. Yuta knelt and tried to place his ear close by.
But instead, you puked blood, and Yuta was forced to watch as the light in your eyes slowly dipped and your heartbeat fell.
“I-I can’t stop the bleeding…!”
Yuta was on the verge of tears as he embraced you in his arms, fearing for your life. You could feel the warmth of your blood leaving you and dipping onto the cold, concrete ground. The sticky consistency of the crimson liquid became thicker. Your body grew colder by the second.
“Yuta…”
“…!”
“Are you... all right?” you managed to cough up.
His face paled. “Why… Of all the times to worry about me!?” His grip tightened, making you gasp.
“...”
You could feel his embrace around you tighten with desperation. His body shook from fear, possibly despair. It was all just a dream, right…?
“...Why would you try and save me like that…?!” “I told you! I’m fine getting hurt! But…! But why did you—?!”
Unable to utter a word, you replied to his question with the voice in your heart, and, just barely, with a smile. And perhaps, your final one. ‘My feelings for you will always be the same. Even if we were to turn back the clock. Even if you told me not to save you. I still would have done it…’
“...”
“What…? I can’t hear.”
“I’m glad… you’re safe.”
His lungs filled with air, his voice trembling with anguish, heartache far worse than just emotion, pure sorrow, knowing that the time you left remaining would be taken away at any point. “How can you be glad!? You promised! Y-You promised that—” he broke the flow of his words, knowing that it wasn’t the right time.
You slowly let out a breath of relief. You didn’t feel any pain now.
“No… please… Please don't leave me,” he choked.
You had never loved him as much as you did in this very moment as he held onto you, pressing deeply onto your wound, hoping that it would do something, anything. Because if it hurt, it meant that you were still reactive. But even he knew. There was no chance.
You wanted to dry the tears that spilled down his cheeks, but you couldn't move your hand. It was like your body was no longer your own. The body that you once operated was no longer in your control.
Instead of words, your mouth involuntarily vomited more blood. Your trembling hand cupped Yuta’s soft, youthful cheeks—the same youth you wanted to keep alive, all so that you could see him smile.
You were just a mere friend to him. Someone who was acquainted to care for him in a world that was so unforgiving. So why—why was he looking at you with such sad eyes? Eyes filled with terror that you’d leave at any moment.
And perhaps you would.
There were so many things you wanted to tell him, but you couldn't move your lips, nor could you find the strength to.
“Save your energy, please!!” he pleaded with you, begging for you to just wait. Just a bit longer...
“I’ll—”
Abruptly, he felt a tug on his sleeve.
‘I want to live, and… I want you to live, too…’
You whispered your last wish inside your heart, knowingly, that he would never be able to hear it. But maybe, just maybe, understood it.
Tears trickled down from one face to the other, dribbling onto the increasingly pale and bloody face of the only person who ever took care of him.
Yuta cried. Just like he would always do. Whenever he cried, he would ball his eyes out, but the one who always calmed the storm was you. His eyes caught sight of tears falling down your face. It was the first time he had ever seen you cry. It was so foreign. It was beautiful, and it was dying.
You were his miracle. But that miracle of his was dying, and there was nothing he could do.
With everything that your throat could muster, you whispered one last time, “Everything is going to be okay…”
And then those pupils were closed forever.
And just as slowly, light reflections from Yuta’s irises disappeared. Yuta stood back up, still. He eyed the cursed spirit. That thing.
The pain that thing did to you, he would avenge that, tenfold.
“...Rika,” he muttered. “Kill it.”
Rage engulfed him. Alive or not, he wanted to make it suffer, along with everything else in his vicinity. Why should they deserve mercy when you didn't receive any?
That one mistake from him cost him everything. It was all his fault.
Again. Again. Again.
“.....”
“Okkotsu!”
“.....”
‘Die, die. Die die die die die—’
“Oi! Okkotsu Yuta! Snap out of it!”
Only when he felt the grip of Maki grabbing onto his collar and lifting him in the air with an expression of fury did he finally snap out of it.
And he regretted it.
“...What—” he scampered, finally turning his head to face what happened. What he did. “What is this?”
Maki clicked her tongue. “What do you think?”
He knew what he did… Whether he wanted to or not, he did exactly the thing you despised… using his power for harm—not good.
Shit…
Regret flooded him. You would hate him. You wouldn’t want this. This wasn’t what you stood for. But, at that moment, all he could think about was the pain he caused you.
He wasn’t a good person. Hell, he shouldn’t even be considered a person if he couldn’t even save the one person who brought such joy in his life—even if that was just a couple of months. Yuta, in his mind of delusion, had unintentionally called out her name and, with it, killed the cursed spirit in that instant.
But that didn’t bring you back. Nothing could ever bring you back.
Within moments, he ran up to your body, collapsing to his feet and gathering you in his arms. Your head rested on his chest, and he kept on shaking you back and forth.
“[Y/n]... [Y/n], please.”
But that didn’t work. Everything felt cold. Nothing—not even his words would ever work.
His hand pressed on the gash with all his might—anything that his shaky, now bloody hands could do. Yuta peered back and forth, from the wound back to your pale face, hoping that, somehow, his efforts would arouse a reaction from you. If it hurt, it meant you were still conscious. It told him you were still alive.
But Maki, who had just seen the aftermath, clenched her fists as everything unfolded before her very eyes. She already knew, and perhaps, even Yuta himself already knew, but refused to admit it. It was too late to save you.
“You promised…”
That promise was desolate.
“You promised that you would be by my side…”
The only fulfilled promise would be to follow the coffin with you in it.
©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#fanfiction#fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jujutsu kaisen angst#gn reader#angst#scenarios#yuuta okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuta angst#death#headcanons#jjk angst#jjk x you#y/n#x reader#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#okkotsu yuta#yuta okkotsu#okkotsu yuta x reader#okkotsu yuta x you#okkotsu yuta death#yuta okkotsu angst#yuta angst
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