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The Sick Man’s Sunny Neighbor

[soft yandere!yuushi totsumoto with fem!reader series] part one

warnings: alternative universe [no paranormal stuff], aged-up!reader (in late twenties to early thirties), drug/alcohol usage, mention of prostitution, gambling, yuushi’s dirty mind, sunshine!reader, cyberbullying.

There maybe additional triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please leave now. You are responsible for your own Internet consumption.

Reblog to support content creators ❤️

Hey guys, and welcome to a brand new short series featuring Yuushi Totsumoto from the NSFW manga Lady K and The Sick Man.

I’d like to give a special thanks to a fellow reader for giving me inspiration, encouragement, and feedback on this. I’d also like to thank @f4turemom and @thatstrangesheep for their encouragement and feedback too as well as helping me put this project together or fill in plot holes I hadn’t noticed were there before.

And for those who are curious, the number four in Japan is considered to be very unlucky. When pronouncing it, 'shi' is associated with death. It's a common practice in buildings to skip over that floor and go to the level 5 from level 3.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show :)

MINORS DNI

divider by @cafekitsune

Yuushi Totsumoto knows he’s a burden wherever he goes.

He’s been laid off at his salaryman job due to the economic recession that held Japan in a chokehold, and it just got worse from there. Employment screening failures, motivation dwindling and constantly switching part-time jobs as a result of either not being paid properly for overtime he put in or his boss [whoever that was at the time] didn’t like his attitude. Didn’t help that he had a face only a mother could love and a prostitute tolerated because she was promised good money if she helped him relax after a stressful day. 

Thirty-eight, unmarried, no family. Yup. He is on the fast track to living a full life even just living day after day is hard. 

So why is it that the upbeat tenant two floors above his own place always goes out of her way to say hello to him whenever she sees him? By the person who lives in Number 501, he meant you. The embodiment of the sun wrapped up in bright clothes and always carrying two or three tote bags full of stuff that he assumes you always need. 

Guess that’s better than trying to carry heavy boxes up the stairs in heels and almost breaking your neck. That’s actually how he met you. Although you were surprised at his speedy reflexes as he caught you around the waist before you lost your balance entirely, you were gushing with gracefulness [if that’s even a word these days, he still doesn’t know what a DILF is] and invited him upstairs for a drink. He politely refused ‘cause he was too tired, but he did accept a plate of cookies with a colorful note on top of the plastic wrap, your contact info written in pencil. 

They weren’t too bad. 

When he returned the plate it was when he saw you at the coffee shop down the street from work. Or at least after finding out that while he always ordered a medium black coffee with two packs of sugar, you prefer caffeinated beverages with whipped cream and chocolate chips sprinkled on top or the ones that have fruit boba pearls with your choice of either water or lemonade, depending on your mood. He did have to look away more than once when he saw your mouth covered in the sweet, white foam with a blissful smile stretched across your pretty face. 

Chance encounters at the coffee shop and around the apartment building eventually led to you finding him passed out behind the pachinko parlor after you finished your shift at a company half a mile from the train station. Instead of leaving him alone to sleep off his drunken stupor, you carried him back to your own place but wisely used the elevator instead of taking a gamble with the stairs. 

When he woke up, he was laying haphazardly on top of a beige-colored futon with a white fleece blanket that smelled like lavender draped over him. You greeted him with a smile, wearing an apron over your work uniform and holding a pan in one hand, a spatula in the other. You asked if he would like some breakfast before going back to his pad but he refused, not wanting to impose on you any further. 

Instead of looking dejected or feeling offended at his rudeness, you packed up some food in a bento-to-go container and sent him off with a smile and wave of your hand, wishing him to have a better day than yesterday. 

He couldn’t remember the last time when he had food that didn’t come from the convenience store or could be cooked in less than three minutes on the stove, so the change in his routine was…nice. He still got fired from his job that afternoon and was back to looking for ads in the paper or visiting the employment center with his less-than-impressive resume. 

If by some miracle he was able to scrape together enough cash, he’d use it for one of two things to relieve some of his stress and frustration; gamble it away in hopes of getting a big return at the pachinko parlor, or spend it on few hours’ service with a cute-lookin’ prostitute. 

For some reason though, he couldn’t get you out of his mind during this nth downward spiral in his life. 

When he stopped in front of the double glass doors at the pachinko parlor, he remembered how you went out of your way on the night he passed out. Instead of going inside, he went to the convenience store and bought beer. He drank the night away in his apartment and watched a new porn movie starring his favorite actress Saya-chan. Then he made arrangements at a love hotel to spend ‘bout three hours there with a beauty who wasn’t too expensive but neither was she too cheap that he wasn’t going to get scammed. When she was about to go down on him, he suddenly felt uncomfortable with the idea and asked her to leave. She got paid for her time and his severe hard-on deflated. He was confused about these changes. Why is it even happening? He’s done this routine dozens of times, but never once had his libido, the only quality about him that was even more impressive than his motivation, evaporated as quickly as it had done that evening. 

It scared him a little.

Emphasis on the word little because he felt his heart hammering against his rib cage as he stood outside number 501 one late afternoon, hand raised to knock on the door and stopped because of hesitation. 

He’s been independent, self-sustaining after his mother died. The idea of asking someone for help, to get back on his feet and be financially secure before his rent was due, felt wrong. Invasive, especially when the person he wanted to ask was you. He could tell that you were no slouch on the job, a hard-worker. Would you even want to lend a hand to an old, unlucky man like him? Or would you scoff at him with indifference and tell him to stop bothering you, destroying the platonic relationship that’s been slowly building between the two of you?

“Totsumoto-san?”

He jumped at the sound of your voice, craning his head to see you standing by the stairs, colorful tote bags looped around one shoulder and carrying plastic bags in the other hand. Ah. You must have gone shopping on your way back from work. You were kinda early, weren’t you? Don’t office workers usually stop around five? Dread filled the pit of his stomach. You didn’t get fired, did you?

“Everything okay?” You asked, stepping forward with a worried frown. He cleared his throat, trying to hide his embarrassment as he licked his bottom lip nervously. 

“Not exactly. I wanted…some advice. On job hunting, I mean. If that’s okay.” He quickly added. “But if you’re tired, then forget I said anything, there’s no need to push yourself -” He jolted as he felt a small, warm hand reach out and squeezed one of his. You smiled up at him.

“Not at all. I hope you’ll excuse the clutter, I haven’t had time to spruce it up with all the overtime I’ve been putting in. You’d be surprised how much paperwork the employees give to temp workers just so that they can leave early. I got lucky.” You pushed your key in and turned the knob to the right, opening the door. “Are you hungry? I’ve got some leftover miso soup in the fridge that I can warm up on the stove. Or I can order something. There's a new Korean barbeque place I’ve been dying to try once I get my next paycheck.” You blinked as you slid off your shoes and hung up your bags on hooks. “Which won’t be until next week. Darn it. Oh well. Don’t stand at the front door, silly! Come in, come in!” 

So he did, slipping his shoes off and closing the door behind him before following you inside. 

If he had to accurately describe your apartment in a few words, it was that it is certainly nothing like his own place. Same layout too; the kitchen having a sink, counter, fridge, and a microwave, just on the opposite side. Everything was organized and clean, no tied-up bags of trash lying around the corners and definitely no table with two chairs. There was a pink kettle on the stovetop waiting to be used, cute magnets on the fridge. As he walked further into the place, he recognized the main room when you had hauled his ass from the alleyway. Potted plants sat on the window ledge, and a couple more on the ground and even some that were hanging from the ceiling but not too low for someone to accidentally hit their head on. A flatscreen TV sat on a dresser, covered in knicknacks. A kotatsu sat in the middle of the living room minus the blanket. There was a plush-sitting chair with a blanket draped on top. 

It felt warm, cozy. It felt like a home. 

“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable.” You said. “I’ll put on some tea, grab my laptop and see what we can do to help you out.” 

He nodded, sitting by the kotatsu. He watched you scurry from one end of the kitchen to the other, grabbing a plate from a cabinet and setting it down on the counter before flipping the stove on. You then disappeared into the back, presumably your room. In a few moments the kettle began to whistle. He was about to get up and take it off the stove before you zoomed back in, plucking it up by the handle, yelping.

“Whoa, slippery!” You laughed nervously, carefully setting it down on the counter. Cradled in your arm was a laptop, it looked silver but he couldn’t really tell because he got momentarily distracted by the way it pressed against your chest and made the scene with you in your loungewear and fuzzy socks…kinda sexy?

Nope, nope. His mind is not going to go there today. Stand down, my son. He inwardly pleaded, praying to any god who might be listening to not let him get hard even when it’s been a damned long time he got laid. 

“Did you want tea now or wait a bit, Totsutmoto-san?” You asked. “Snacks?”

“Maybe later if that’s okay, snacks included.” 

“Sure, no problem. Better just to dive into this and see what we can do to amp up your resume.” You sat down next to him, opening and booting up the laptop. “So, where do you post your resume?” You asked. 

He told the places, and showed you the one where it allowed him to keep his account online and regularly update his resume for a small fee. He watched you read it, your eyes glowing with curiosity morphing before you frowned, then raised an eyebrow as you scrolled all the way down to the bottom of the screen. You stared at it for a long moment before you turned to him, an uneasy smile stretched across your mouth. 

“Can I be completely honest with you? About this resume, I mean.”

“Fire away.” 

“Promise not to get mad?”

“I was the one who asked you for help.” He shrugged, moving a little closer so he could read over your shoulder. “So be straight with me. How bad is it?”

You chuckled. “Fair enough. Right, I can definitely see that you have a lot of experience, or at least had a lot of part-time jobs. Good team player, glowing letters of recommendation from some supervisors. But the timeline, or how long you’ve been with each company is a little…concerning? If that’s the right word?” You blinked for a moment, then shook your head. “Uh, moving on. Sorry. The point is that because your work history shows a period of no less than two to four months at each place. From my perspective, I can see why some hiring managers skip over your resume in favor of someone else who has had a steady job of three years looking for a clean slate. It looks like the places you’ve been with the longest are with construction companies, specifically ones that offer six to nine months of work.” You scrolled back up, moving your cursor in a circle around the middle part of the Job Experience/History section. “If you want to find better jobs that come with better pay, you should definitely aim for the construction slash engineering angle. While it is better to keep all of your job history so it shows that you have been employed before, I honestly don’t know what to get rid of or what to keep, except maybe the janitorial job.” You grimaced. “Which, kudos to you. You do what you need to do to make a living. But I would say check out these employment centers. Let me find them real quick.”

Your fingers danced across the keyboard, pulling up another screen on top of his job resume and typing in the search engine for two different places. You turned the laptop fully to him. “Sakura’s Jobs Ads. Kind of like Hello Work, same wide database if you don’t mind taking a few trains to your job but minus the sneaky fees they include if you do a consulting appointment with one of their counselors. DeerWorker is also a good one, but that’s if you want to go back to the corporate world. That’s where I got my temporary contract with the company I’m with now. I do hope the upper management will decide if they’ll keep me on board as a permanent employee for HR or Lisa-chan. Nice girl, great social skills, and has the biggest set of eyes in the whole building. Least that’s what the talk is around the water cooler.” Your own eyes widened, cheeks pinkening with embarrassment. “Oh, I’m rambling again. Sorry!”

Although your description of Lisa-chan left very little for Yuushi’s imagine as to what this other candidate would look like at the office, and he’s seen his fair share of gorgeous women himself when he had been a salaryman, but you weren’t bad-lookin’ either. 

“It’s fine.” He finally said. “So, what else can I do to increase my chances of getting a job before the rent is due?” 

That was how the rest of his evening went. Between munching on crackers and sipping steamy oolong tea, the two of you polished his resume, performed a mock interview to see where he can improve or sell his skill sets to a potential boss, looked at dollar store ads to see which place has more variety for appliances or furniture, and tips on how to keep a place tidy when you’re busy 24/7. He’s not too picky about aesthetics, he just wants to make his place a bit more functional, or at least not look like a dumpster he walked into after a long day. And it isn’t because he got inspired by how you’ve managed to do it, thank you very much. 

He stayed for dinner too. You amplified the miso soup in your fridge with some greens and fancy silken tofu you had splurged on from your last trip to the grocery store. After it sat for a few minutes, one bite was all it took to remember what a home cooked meal tasted like. It had been too damned long for him. Between his odd hours and limited budget thanks to the growing food prices, the local convenience store had been his go-to for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He doesn’t know how you can do it all so well, holding down a job and being able to eat well. It honestly made Yuushi a little jealous. 

Aside from being a very upfront and upbeat lady who lived two floors above his unit, he did notice that you liked a lot of books by the same author. They were all nearly arranged under the dresser that held the TV up, in no particular order. 

The Curse of Mermaid Isle - Advanced Copy

The Clue in The Jade Cat Statue - Advanced Copy

The Confession of the Golden Witch - Advanced Copy

When The Suzu Bells Stop Ringing - Advanced Copy

The Case of The Missing Bride - Advanced Copy

Eternal Winter - Advanced Copy

An Inconvenient Attachment - Advanced Copy

He’s not much of a book person, he never read for fun except for the occasional hentai manga if he couldn’t afford another mag or video. He didn’t think advanced copies actually existed. How did you get them? Were you one of those people who volunteered to be readers and get paid or compensated somehow for providing a review on someone else’s work? He guessed that made sense. Again, not very active in the literary world. 

After he helped you clean the dishes, he said good-night and went back to his own place, thanking you for your help. He had a plan of what to do, and he’ll get started on applying for jobs first thing tomorrow morning. If there’s time, maybe stop and check out one of the employment centers you recommended. 

He did a quick search for some of the book titles saw at your place, including the author’s name Hibiki Ikuko. Book reviews, TikTok reactions to said books, articles slash theories on the identity of Hibiki Ikuko-sensei.

According to the rumors this author came through the Japanese literary world suddenly out of nowhere and with their mystery debut, When The Suzu Bells Stop Ringing. Once readers and critics had a taste of their writing prose, storytelling, or whatever caught their interest in the first fifty pages, they didn’t want to read just one book.

They wanted to read everything Hibiki Ikuko-sensei had to offer. 

Their second best-selling novel, The Confession of The Golden Witch, got picked to become a mini-series on NetFlick last year. All of their other books have been well-received.  An Inconvenient Attachment, however, was their first romance novel. 

The reviews were good for that one, a lot of fans weren’t too happy that their favorite author was writing something other than mysteries.  They wanted to read more intrigue, horror, murder, and plot twists that make them keep guessing until the very end. They could do without reading about the ups-and-downs of an arranged marriage of two office workers who eventually find happiness with each other despite the initial unwelcomed circumstances or their first impressions. 

@superiorlibrarianofmysteries said: Why can’t Hibiki-sensei just write what they know? C’mon, stop trying to hog all of the spotlight! Stick to your lane  >:(  

@cherryblossomviewer said: Didn’t even read the book ‘cause it’s not a mystery lol.

@suckerforromance said: If I want romance, I’ll stick to Mimosa-chan’s works! Those are god-tier swoon-worthy masterpieces compared to the dumpster fire that is An Inconvenient Attachment. Hibiki-sensei, did you even have a beta reader before you sent it to your editor??

@thegreatdetective said: SENSEI, YOU HAVE COMMITTED A HEINOUS CRIME AGAINST THE MYSTERY WRITING GODS!!

He blinked. Wow. He scrolled through the comments with raised eyebrows and an unlit cigarette in his mouth. And here he thought he was wasting his life away by just existing. He can sort of get why people would be mad at someone they like doing something different in their life like when a pop idol announces that she has decided to retire and pursue an acting career. But this kind of online harassment is unacceptable, whether that person is an idol, a porn star or a mystery writer. He just hoped whoever Hibiki Ikuko-sensei is doesn’t get upset by this kind of negativity. 

You’d be sad if they stopped writing books. 

He blinked at the sudden thought that popped into his head, then shook it off as exhaustion. He did his usual nightly routine, plugged his cell phone into the wall charger, and slept like a log. Fast forward to three or five months later.

It was pretty damned close, but he was able to secure not one, but two big contracts with separate construction companies before the following month’s rent was due. Six months, back to back, he'd have steady work an entire year. If one of them liked him enough, there was possible, permanent employment in his bleak future. Holy shit. 

If that wasn’t a miracle granted to him by the gods, it was how his relationship with you improved. He came to enjoy your company, having small talk whenever you ran into each other. If you were out on an evening walk and he was just coming back from the job site, you’d either walk with him back to the apartment complex or wave at each other before you continued your exercise regimen. One or twice a week he’d come over with beer or snacks while you made dinner.  

When one of your appliances began to act up, he was right there with a ViewTube tutorial on his phone and tools. You would thank him profusely for his hard work and send him home with leftovers from a dinner you insist on cooking for him. The cycle would repeat, and he’ll admit it he’s gotten comfortable. Seeing you, talking to you, sharing a meal…it’s been nice. Having a human connection that isn’t work or sex-related. The last thing he wants to do is fuck it up because he is starting to feel something you that goes beyond a platonic friendship. 

Then one afternoon after a long day in the scorching heat, he got a call from an unknown number.  He was on his way home and his phone reminded him to pick up your email. You had gone out of town for two weeks on business in Kyoto, and he assumed you got the HR position instead of Lisa-chan. Maybe that’s why you haven’t responded to his text messages. Or were on the bullet train coming back to Tokyo, even when you were supposed to be home last night. Just when he swiped the notification to the right and was about to put it back in his pocket, it rang.  

Tired, hot, and a bit irritated that a scammer is trying to get money from him, he answered it gruffly. “What?”

“Am I speaking to Totsumoto Yuushi?”

“Uh, yeah. Who is this?”

“Doctor Sugiwara from Tokyo General Hospital. You were listed as Ms. [Last Name] [First Name]’s emergency contact.”

Yuushi almost lost his grip on the phone. “Wait, what? What happened?! Is she all right?!”

“I wish I could say sir, but legally I cannot disclose any medical information about my patient over the phone.” Doctor Sugiawara said empathetically, as if she has had to make this phone call over a dozen times in her career. “I can, however, assure you that she is stable. Can you come by the hospital as soon as possible? I can have the staff be aware of your arrival and admit you without any trouble.”

Yuushi licked his dry mouth, heart pounding in his chest. “Yes. Y-Yes, of course. Do I need to bring anything? Is an ID all right? Money?”

“The secretary at the front desk will explain everything. We’ll see you soon, Totsumoto-san.” 

Taglist: @pinkroseblooms @unorthodoxfaithxx @ushitoshiii @mynahx3 @marooseshawnash @chirimeimei @twinklingbeautifulstars @sleepydang @marblemoovt @sourlove @killmeprettypleasee @vixenlusts @kottiya @imnotabot28 @megantheefan @octocorpse @your-civil-critter @rainbowprincess7 @zeniiis @gumboug @curbsidebi @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @ixchelhernandez4 @detectivesparrow

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😻 MEOW

oldie

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Obsessive Bestfriend; Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader drabble

wc: 779 (not edited)

Synopsis: You get rejected by your crush, but lucky for you, your best friend is there to help you get over him. WARNINGS: MDNI! 18+ (please), somnophillia, dub-con, foul language, name-calling, fem! reader, dirty talk, hand-jobs, reader is eaten out, and a lot of very NSFW things!!!!!

You just got rejected from your first-ever 'real' crush.

You are crushed. He was the first actual guy you liked. And on top of that, he was one of the nicest friends you ever had. And you just ruined all that just by asking a simple question. Yes, you had a physical and emotional attraction to different guys before- but this one was different, yeah it's a cliche - I know. Now you are in your best friend Gojo Satoru's room crying your pretty little eyes out before him.

"ToruUuuU.. Sniff am I not girlfriend material or something?! Sniff " You ask, he just sighs and looks at you,

"You know, there are billions of other guys that are nicer, and smarter than h-"

"NO! I wanted him! And when and where am I supposed to find a better guy than that?!" You exclaim as you cut him off, you look up at him to find an annoyed expression on his face,

"You know, I could've had a girl over today but I canceled just to hear you talk about some dumb boy, just get over it." He says as he rolls his eyes at you.

You stare up at him and here come the waterworks again - you start sobbing uncontrollably, making him feel bad.

"Look, I'm sorry, but maybe it's a sign that it wouldn't have worked out anyway? Who needs a boyfriend when you have me right?" He looks at you waiting for an answer,

But to no avail, you keep on crying. He sighs again and pulls you in for a deep embrace.

He can't help but smile as you cry. Is it bad that he knew this would happen? He predicted all of this. You get rejected, and you come crying to him. It's always him. He is all you have. You need him.

He strokes your hair and begins comforting you with his words, "...there there, I'm always here for you. You don't need to worry..." Then you slowly start to drift off into a deep sleep.

-

"ah.. hnghhh... " What? Why were you making these noises? You groggily open your swollen eyes. You are then met with a sudden wave of pleasure from your pussy. With widened eyes, you look down and see none other than your best friend peering back up at you; between your legs, chin glistening from your juices, and smiling.

You gasp and try to close your legs only to be deflected by Satoru's hands holding them down. He goes back down and continues eating at your cunt hungrily - sucking on your clit and lapping up the juices you secrete.

"To-toru! What are you doing?" You panic and try to squirm away from his touch. He smacks your thigh - "M'only trying to help you get over your rejection, s'just be a good girl for me and take it." He continues to aggressively eat you out, and you can't help but let out loud moans. You feel a familiar feeling rushing to your stomach as he starts to tongue fuck you.

"To-toru- m'gonna cum!" You cry out as you arch your back, you are now gripping his hair to angle him to get more friction of his tongue and your bare pussy. As you get closer and closer to your climax, You feel fingers start to insert into your leaky hole; this sends you over the edge. You cum on his fingers right away - a whiney wet whimper leaving your mouth.

"He is s'dumb for not wanting you - look at you. He's missin out." He coos at you kissing your cheek. Your eyes hooded and droopy, legs open; still in the position he was eating you out in, your cunt glistening and the room filled with the sound of heavy breathing.

"You needed this, it was the only way to get over him, sweetheart. N'now, he wouldn't want a dirty slut like you would he?" He pulls you in his arms and starts stroking your hair,

"You don't need anyone else besides me. M'the only one always here for you aren't I?" he says looking down at you, you look up at him meekly and start to realize - he's right.

He's always been there for you - no matter the weather or time. You really don't need anyone else besides him. And if you lost him... you would probably crumble. He knows all your deepest darkest secrets, and you know his - well, most of them. So you nod at his question and snuggle into his chest starting to dose off. Satoru gives out a smile, his breath shuddering as he feels nothing but a dark wish being fulfilled - you're his, and you know it.

a/n: my first fic 😭 it's just a short n' cute fic that I completed in like 2 days. I have so many drafts and ideas but I didn't know what I wanted to post so send me more ideas! thanks for reading!!!

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誰か、海を。