#yandere yuuta okkotsu

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hear meowt. yan!JJK men finding out that Darling found their little planbook for their wedding early in the relationship. Only for Darling to comment abt just changing some stuff like different coloured dress or making it a spring wedding. Cause well. It's their wedding too y'know :)

No, You Were Supposed to Find That, Haha.

Satoru-

Tried to play off the fact that he was shitting his pants, but is even more surprised when you actually play along.

Was your reaction real or fake? He didn't care.

He loves that you want this for each other, too.

At least he knows you're definitely the one.

Nanami-

He feels like he's in a dream.

Just too much of a dream to be a reality.

Especially with the way he's got his arm around your shoulder and pointing through the ideas with you, watching you tweak a few things to your liking.

He feels it's about time to create a budget as well to make this as realistic as possible.

Toji-

He thought it was time to lock you up once you found it, knowing it would definitely drive you away.

But here you were, pointing out things you might want to change when that time does come.

Maybe he was asking for too much, considering he has all he has ever wanted right here, but he does want to marry you and really hopes to grow old with you as well.

Yuuta-

Stares at you the entire time you go through his planning sheets.

You were always too beautiful to ignore and way too adorable to stop.

He watched you go through his dresser and watched you rummage around his papers until you found it and here you were making wedding plans with him.

Maybe he should retire soon. Maybe he should get you to move in soon as well.

Sukuna-

Is just as surprised as he is relieved.

Deep down, he is really glad you wanted to go along with it. Because you would've been forced to be married to him whether you liked it or not.

But because you're here on his lap making whatever you want to how you want it to be, he lets you talk his ear off just this once.

[ramhaiba]

𝖮𝗇𝖾 𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗋 (𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖸𝗎𝗎𝗍𝖺 𝖷 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

SNEAK PEEK

Full Fic

a/n- i haven't posted in a while and i don't have anything done (yet) so i decided to post a sneak peek of my next work) contains- kidnapping, manhandling, intense bullying, stalking dubcon, oral (f receiving), thigh fucking, unprotected sex, tba..

One year. It’s been one year since you were attacked from behind. You still remember every tiny detail of that event, you were struggling to find your stupid car keys in your purse, cursing under your breath. There was something eerie about being in a empty parking lot so late at night- but you were desperate for groceries. So there you stood, struggling to find your keys while your grocery bags rested next to your feet. 

You don’t know why you couldn’t hear him, it was like he was a ghost. It was all sudden, the feeling of his stern chest on your back, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other holding a black cloth over your mouth. You remember trying to fight him off of you but each second of inhaling the chloroform infused rag made your eyelids grow heavy. 

When you woke up, your heart felt like it was about to run out of your chest as you noticed you weren’t in your room, realizing that your last memory wasn’t a simple dream. 

The room was unfamiliar, you were lying on a queen-sized mattress, the white walls were decorated with two small portraits of flowers, and the hardwood floor looked spotless as if someone had just finished polishing it. The room itself looked normal except that there wasn’t a single window, the only light coming off a bulb from the ceiling- in addition to the security camera hung in the corner. 

Your first instinct was to run to the door, only to find it was locked. Then you banged your fist on the sealed entrance, cursing at anyone who was behind the door. 

That’s when you heard his voice for the first time, soft and slightly comforting as well. 

“Take ten steps back from the door,” he uttered, sounding more like a suggestion than a command. 

“What the fuck is this, let me out” you shouted back. “Ten steps away from the door” he repeated, tone with a hint of annoyance. “Where even am I? Asshole, if you don’t let me go right now I’ll-”

“I said ten fucking steps away from the door, Y/n” he shouted, his voice booming, banging his fist on the other side of the door, causing you to flinch in fear. You didn’t dare to utter another word like your lips were stuck together by glue, slowly retreating a good distance away from the door.

You heard the voice sigh from behind the door before unlocking it.

He walked, dark hair swooped to the side, a light grey baggy sweatshirt paired with black trousers. There was a sliver argyle patterned masquerade mask wrapped around the top half of his face, highlighting his dark tired eyes. 

You don’t need to see his entire face to know you’ve never met him before. “H-how did you know my name” you questioned, taking a step back the second he took a step closer.  

He gave you a disappointed look, his eyes narrowed through the mask, “because we know each other. Y/n” he replied. 

“I- I don’t even know your name, you sick fuck” you remarked, clenching your fist. “Pancakes? Do you like pancakes? “ he asked, joyfully as if you hadn’t just cursed him out. 

“What? Why the hell are you asking me if I want pancakes” you scoffed. “For breakfast, of course” he beamed, lips curled in a sweet subtle smile. 

“I- I don’t want pancakes, I want to leave” you replied, voice stern. “Try to get some rest, you hit your head pretty hard before you got here” he suggested, as he began to retreat to the door. 

You looked at him in disbelief as his silhouette left the room. 

The next morning- or what you assume was the next morning, the ringing of a bell woke you, as your vision slowly focused on your surroundings, you noticed him sitting on your bed, holding a tray of breakfast assortments, head tilted as he smiled.

“I hope you slept well. I made you breakfast- I’m not the best chef, so don’t get too excited” he laughed embarrassed, leaning over to lay the tray on your lap.

You looked at the food, fresh pancakes drizzled with syrup, a glass of iced orange juice, and toasted bread on the side. Then you looked back at him, his innocent happy appearance pissed you off- it was like he wasn’t unaware of how morally wrong his mistakes were.  “I don’t want your fucking food- I want to leave” you shouted, trying to tackle him with the butter knife from the tray, the spread of food falling over as you pushed him to the ground, knees straddling his chest.

In an instance, his hands are on your waist, flipping you over as if it didn't take any effort difficulty, pinning your hand above your head, making you drop the butter knife, strands of dark hair dangling off his forehead. 

“If you ever do that again” he uttered, putting crushing pressure around your wrist as he squeezed them, he leaned over, his breath on your neck as he tilted his head, 

“I will fucking break your arm.”

That’s when you realize the man in front of you isn’t just your abductor - he’s a sociopath.

[adoreokkotsu]

oh yandere yuuta you have me in a chokehold I need him desperately

[yanderenightmare]

Okkotsu Yuuta

♡ TW: noncon, yandere, kidnapping, bondage, revenge, bully reader 

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about the major power trip Yuuta went through once he figured out how to control his cursed energy. 

Here’s this loser who’s been bullied all throughout life for being such a loner, who suddenly gains unlimited and unsupervised power to do whatever he wants. And he’s never once stood up for himself out of fear that Rika would take it too far—but he’s fully in control now and free to do all those things he’s been too scared to do before.

You used to be one of those bullies back in the day—one of those pretty girls who would laugh and sneer at him while other goons would do their worst of swirlies and wedgies and gut punches. He hasn’t seen you in years already, but there hasn’t been a day he hasn’t thought about you. Old, twisted emotions of hatred and want brewing in the darkest pits of his gut. He can still remember that evil look of glee in your eyes each time you’d say or do something horrid.

He wonders if he has that same awful look in his eyes now as he stands over you—terrified, lying in his bed with your hands and feet tied.

He doesn’t even remember how he got you there. He must have blacked out completely, and yet, the knots of rope are tied so neatly he must have known what he was doing.

You’re in what you wore to bed—a pair of panties and a little crop top. He’s actually never seen a girl so bare before—only two flimsy articles away from being naked. It makes him blush—big and dour-eyed, scanning every curve of your smooth skin, feeling his throat get tight.

Your mouth’s taped shut—he isn’t interested in anything you’d have to say. But he’s left your eyes. He can’t tell if you recognize him. But the fear within them makes him feel so good he’s never been harder in his entire life.

Still, he doesn’t know if he can go through with it. It’s a strange feeling—how your shivering and tears make him feel both ashamed and yet so very horny he might cum in his pants just from looking at you. 

He thinks of the you from back then—what an absolute bitch you were—all your mean words and hard glares, ugly comments whispered in your friend’s ear while looking down on him, giggling behind a hand as if it were some big secret you were talking shit—as if you hadn’t just poured rotten milk over his head in front of everyone.

Yeah… you deserve this.

You try worming away from him once he crawls on top of you, but the way he’s tied you makes it a pointless struggle. It should make him feel worse, but oddly enough, it just makes him want to touch you more. Your skin is so soft it gives him chills, manhandling you just the way he sees fit. 

It seems crazy to him that something with teeth as sharp as yours can also look like the sweetest thing in the world. To anyone else, he must look like the bad guy. But he knows, and you know—you’re no victim.

With your hands tucked under your back, you’re completely pinned beneath him as he straddles your legs. You whine, but he pays you no mind—carefully lifting your top up further.

His body sags with a sigh at the sight. They’re even more perfect than he’d dreamed, and they feel even better in his hands—soft and squeezable.

It’s so fucked up—you have the ugliest personality he knows, and yet you're just as pretty as he remembers. He hates you, and yet you’re the only one he wants this way.

He bends down and wraps his mouth around your nipple—it’s perky and warm and makes him groan with a shudder—rocking his clothed bulge against your thigh with a string of moans.

He can’t believe your pussy is just a thin little layer of cotton away—waiting for him just beneath a pink print of cartoon bunnies. He doesn't know why, but he really likes that more than the black lace he’d expected. 

Suppose it makes you fit the role more—his prey.

Just knowing he’s going to fuck you makes him feel like the most powerful guy in the world. He wants to make you cum until you can’t even remember your own name.  He wonders if you’re a virgin, too, but he doubts it.

“I’ve seen you had so many tongues down your throat, it wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve had dick just as much.”

But that’s okay. He’s going to make sure this time is special. 

His body drapes yours with all its weight as endless thoughts of what he’s going to do to you flood his head. He moans, making drool spill over your chest where his mouth covets your breast while he keeps rutting into you—he’ll make you feel so good you fall in love with him.

And it’s sad how the thought alone instantly makes his boxers fill with stickiness.

And it’s only sadder as the post-nut-clarity hits because he’s left with a heavy feeling of grief for not having filled your womb instead. 

♡ OKKOTSU YUTA masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, somnophilia, implied non/con, mentions of knots.

Puppy!Yuuta, who catches your eye the second you step into the shelter, despite the fact that he’s not at all what you were looking for. You need a service animal, and as cruel as it feels to say, hybrids of undeterminable origins with less-than-stellar past homes aren’t known to be very consistent, let alone trainable when it comes to such a high-stakes job. You were supposed to meet a pure-bred, highly recommended husky hybrid whose previous owner was no longer able to take care of him, but it was over for you as soon as you saw those big, dark, watery eyes – nearly hidden entirely by overgrown hair and jet-black ears that seemed to droop even lower whenever you threatened to look away from him. You’re already a lost cause by the time you ask a shelter employee for his name, and the paperwork’s signed within the hour. He leaves with you the same day, eyes on the ground and tail wagging a mile a minute.

Puppy!Yuuta, who was always meant to be someone's spoiled pet. He's shy, at first, scared to talk too loudly or cling too tightly or do anything that'll get him sent back to the shelter (no matter how clear you make it that that's a non-option), but it only takes him a few days to warm up to you, a couple weeks to come out of his shell, just under a month to start sleeping in your bed and trailing you around your apartment. He almost trips over himself when you ask if he'd like to wear a collar, and soon enough, he's more akin to a second-shadow than a dog. He does have some aggression issues, particularly when it comes to human men, but he's an angel with other hybrids, and when he bows his head and pouts, you really can't help but forgive him. With a life like the one he must've had, you can't really blame him for being so quick to bear his teeth.

Puppy!Yuuta, who's more than ecstatic when you mention still needing a service animal. He might not be qualified on paper, sure, but he's already constantly at your side, constantly worrying about you - it'd just feel wrong to go out and get another hybrid for a job Yuuta is more than capable of. He says he likes that idea of being able to take care of you, too - like you take care of him. You want to ask him not to be so sappy, to think of a slightly less sentimental way to say it, but when he's so happy and so, so proud of himself, it's hard to be even that strict.

Puppy!Yuuta, who cums untouched the first time you comb your fingers through his hair. You don't seem to notice, and he does his best to hide his face in your lap, to bite back the little, pathetic whimpers that crawl up his throat whenever you scratch at the base of his ears. He doesn't want to scare you, to be so needy so suddenly when you've been so kind.

Puppy!Yuuta, whose one and only flaw is that he can't seem to stop riffling through your dirty laundry. He can't be left alone for more than an hour without stealing one of your oldest, most threadbare shirts or worse, claiming a pair of your underwear as his newest chew-toy. You really should chastise him for it, but it's such an awkward thing to talk about, and he has such a sweet face - it's hard to believe he could ever do anything deliberately wrong. You've resigned yourself to just trying to limit the damage and salvage the less damaged items, even if those mysterious stains are a little hard to get out.

Puppy!Yuuta, who wishes he didn't have such a big, bulky knot. It's too thick and too heavy and seems to swell up whenever he gets even a little hard. If he didn't have a knot, he'd be able to actually thrust into you, rather than just fucking his fist over your sleeping body and imagining how tight you'd be, how pretty you'd look, how nice it would be to make you feel as warm and as soft as he feels because of you. He does what he can with his tongue, but you don't seem to like waking up with his saliva soaking everything between your thighs, and he always gets too excited when he tastes you. If he has to rut against your thigh that desperately again, he's afraid you might wake up and scold him.

Puppy!Yuuta, who can't wait until he works up the courage to mate with you properly. He knows it's still too soon, that it'd scare you to do it so abruptly, that he doesn't deserve it yet, but soon, he'll be able to to step up and take care of you as something more than just a pet. He's not there right now, but one day, he just knows he'll be the perfect mate for you <3

[sqtorux]

thinking about possessive!yuta who tells you that you can see curses because you're special and he fights them off to protect you.

possessive!yuta who realises you could use the reversed cursed technique but activating it would require your lips to touch your benefactor.

possessive!yuta who keeps your cursed technique a secret even from yourself because he doesn't want you to kiss anyone else even at the expense of their life.

possessive!yuta who says your kisses heals his injuries and that you're all he needs.

possessive!yuta who has rct mastered to the core still comes to you with minor injuries just so he could feel your cursed technique running through veins and within his soul.

possessive!yuta who loves mixing the traces of your cursed energy with his, he feigns innocence when you ask about your things which have been disappearing.

possessive!yuta who just can't have enough of you even though he has you in the palm of his hands.

[gojoath]

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ TWO HALVES OF A WHOLE, OKKOTSU YŪTA

sometimes you swear you have two boyfriends, the one that loves you and the one that fucks you.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. your boyfriends two personalities. toxic relationships. jealousy / possessiveness. wc, 2k.

note. repost :)

you swear you have two boyfriends, you must.. because this yuuta— the one that’s fucking you now, rutting you into the mattress with such carnal desire because he didn’t like the way that dude who served you both your coffee this morning was looking at you, is obscenely different to the one that still blushes when you answer his i love youwith a sweetened one of your own and a kiss.

“do you know him?” he’d asked as he took his seat across from you at the table, right after he’d chosen to pull out your own for you like the loving boyfriend he was. the perfect boyfriend. you want to ask who he’s talking about but you’d be an idiot not to know— you can basically feel the poor barista’s nerves from your table.

“he’s staring,” yuuta continues and you want to say that he’s staring as he holds his gaze, but you’re pretty sure he knows that already— the veins on his hands are prominent with how tightly he’s gripping the cup in his palms and you’re surprised it hasn’t smashed yet. it’s like the hostility is radiating off of him in waves despite the kindhearted smile he’s showing you.

“yuuta it’s fine,” you try to reason with him and it only makes him breathe out a soft chuckle before he’s taking a sip of his drink— the words seem to calm him, albeit temporarily as he shifts in his seat. “it’s customer service, he’s paid to be nice.” he offers the barista behind you another glance and then his eyes are back on you as he scratches cutely at the back of his neck.

“ah, i’m not worried.” yuuta’s tone is lighthearted, it’s sweet and soft in the way that you’re used to before both his hands are back on the table to clasp one of yours. his grip is a little too tight, but it’s nothing you’re not used to before his words taker a lower, deeper drawl. “because you’re all mine. right?”

two personalities wrapped up in one pretty boy, you think. but then your thoughts are cut off with the next languid roll of his hips as he deliberately slows his pace to a deep rock. you feel his fingers trace up your jaw before they’re pressing against your parted lips, prying them further open “open, baby.”

and you do, catching the glimmer of something twisted in his gaze at the way you listen so eagerly. your tongue swipes along his fingers before you watch a glob of spit drip slow from between his lips, making you moan when you feel the taste of him drench and ignite your taste buds.

“are you mine?” yuuta asks and the gentle, careful tone is such a contrast to the look in his eyes— it’s like a hunters gaze, rooting you in place, daring you to run— it’s like a promise that he’ll catch you even if you did.

“mhm, i’m yours, yuuta. please. only y-yours—ah.” his fingers press down on your tongue as he pushes them in a little more and you can feel the cool press of the promise ring on his finger. it’s one identical to yours. it’s the same one he’d gifted you six weeks into officially being your boyfriend after he’d assured you that time doesn’t matter, only your love for eachother does.

although if you asked him now, he still doesn’t think it’s enough to show the world you’re his. even though he’d prefer to keep you locked away with only him forever. you think it’s cute when he jokes like that.

it’s so twisted, maybe a little worrying for anyone else that you can’t help but like when yuuta gets like this. the way it makes you nervous again, butterflies in your gut like it’s the first time he’s been above you and suddenly you feel even warmer to touch. you feel shy despite the way he’s had you like this more times than you can count.

it’s lewd, animalistic but then you’ll get a peek of the other part of him when the next heavy rock of his hips is accompanied with a sweet, gentle kiss smeared across your forehead with his next breath as he pulls back his fingers from your mouth, weaving them with yours instead and squeezing tight.

“h-how, how does it feel?” yuuta’s words tremble with his next thrust as your pussy squeezes around him and your lips part to moan at the sweet question, body clenching and eyes fluttering closed as he grinds into your pussy. he’s rutting you into the mattress like a wild fucking animal before his blown gaze is scanning over you, drinking you up with a satisfied, adoring look.

“good, yuu~ s-so good!” he’s so pretty, fucking you so well you can barely find your words and it’s filthy the way he knows where to press, where to palm and kiss until you’re arching into him— like he’s studied the very way you play with your own pussy up close. like he’d torn you apart and put you back together himself.

he’s fucking you into a puddle of desire and need for only him.

you’re vaguely aware, although barely over the sounds of your own weak whimpers and long, needy moans, that he’s whispering under his breath, panting and growling softly.

“he probably wishes he could see you like this,” another slow rock of yuuta’s hips and he deliberately presses against that saccharine, sweet spot inside of your walls, making your thighs squeeze tight around his hips as he breathes deep.

“you’re pretty, so pretty,” you can’t help the physical reaction you have to his words, cunt clutching tight and your hips thrusting up to meet his own movements. you both gasp and his pace stutters but he continues. “but you’re mine, all of you.. it’s mine.” his words go buried in your skin— in your walls when they’re accompanied by a particularly sharp thrust. it’s like his love fills and swells within you in turn, until your lungs are tight, as if you can’t quite get enough air with each breath.

“i know, yuu~ i love you so much,” yuuta’s kisses smear over your cheek, hot breaths panting against your skin as he takes a pace that has your tits jolting with every clap of his hips into yours.

“s-say it again.” you hear him gulp on his next words and your pussy squeezes even tighter, “i need to know you mean it.” the soft slap of your pussy meets his pelvis and it makes your insides curl and ache, the feeling of his balls smacking your ass leaving you breathless with every connection.

“i love you,”

“show me.” you’re more than eager to give him when he asks you like that, hissed through clenched teeth and you whine long and wordless for him as bliss washes over you. you feel him tremble over you as you do, smearing messy kisses and spit over your cheek and neck— mumbling praises and i love yous against your jaw and lips as he looks at you.

you’re vaguely aware of how broken and weak your moans sound, but the rush in your head while you cum is a little too loud and delightful for you to really care about anything else except the man who made you feel exactly that. your thighs struggle to close, instinctively, as you shy away from the pleasure but yuuta shifts on purpose to keep them spread, his fingers withdrawing to rub softly through the swollen petals of your pussy so he can prolong your pliant state.

“i knew i didnt have anything to worry about,”

it doesn’t take long for him to follow after you. his cock flexes, thickening in a way that feels as if it grows with each greedy coax of your twitching cunt, until he pauses, followed by a breathier croon of your name as he spills hot inside you.

yuuta’s chest presses against yours, lips suckling into the crook of your neck, nails dragging gently down your hips as he presses his load into you until you whimper. you twitch and he uses the movement to hug you closer, stilling inside of you when he’s got his face buried into your shoulder and you both catch your breath.

you lie there for a long time, or so it feels until he’s leaving you quickly to grab you some water and a warm cloth. he returns in what feels like seconds, but now that you’re orgasm has finally worn off, you can barely look at him.

you’re not sure if it’s because of how hard and good he’s just made you cum or the pleasure he’d pulled from you so easily, leaving you in bite marks and bruises. but you feel so nervous suddenly as you twist nervously at the promise ring on your finger.

“are you okay?” yuuta asks quickly, a soft tone to his voice as the mattress dips when he sits next to you. he leans forward when he does, smearing a kiss against your cheek before he’s handing you the cool glass of water, which you take with shaking hands.

hes gorgeous, dark hair mused through the day from his hands gliding through it and now yours, falling forward around his face from being swept back to frame his flushed features now.

you meet his gaze and you’d think it burned you as you shy away, feeling heat creep to your cheeks when his fingers stroke gently at your arm. “i’m sorry, did i hurt you?” there’s a soft nervousness to his eyes despite his usual haunting gaze. he bites on his lower lip as he looks over you.

“ah.. sorry.” you try to keep your own bashfulness aside as you take a sip of water, letting it cool the scratchiness in your throat as you swallow.

“no, it’s..” he looks at you so intently, but there was always something in his gaze that made you feel cold despite the sweat across your body. but still you grin, before petting your hand across his.

“it’s cute seeing you all protective, that’s all.”

“is it weird?”

“no! not at all, it’s hot—“

“oh, ah— thanks.” he nods, a little shy and back to his kindhearted, sweet demeanour when you share a kiss, sighing with the content press of your bodies.

“did you know him?” yuuta kisses your forehead despite the way he presses the topic again. “i can find you another cafe if you want,” he breathes, another kiss to your skin following. he curls his arm around you as he looks over you and it’s with so much adoration that it makes your toes curl in the same way your body had a few minutes ago.

“maybe he’s new, i’ve never seen him. i like that cafe though.” you shrug, not seeing any real issue with it. but his dark eyes flash towards you and you giggle when he suddenly presses you down against the bed to kiss you passionately.

“i just don’t want anyone making you uncomfortable, i’ll kill them.” yuuta kisses you hungrily, making you sigh as you melt beneath him— you’re like gum, bending to his will with every flick of his tongue.

“i know, yuuta. you always joke about that. i still want to keep going to that cafe though,” his hand cups your cheek and you smile. he leans in to kiss you firmly with his next breath.

“we can go together. i don’t think we’ll see him again anyway.”

“what, why not?”

“because i want you to be happy.” your chest jumps when yuuta’s words urge you to curl closer— making something warm bloom in your chest at the love he makes you feel. you can feel him smile into the next kiss he smears along your temple, and he makes sure the kiss after is against the promise ring on your finger when he gives you another smile.

it’s hours later when yuuta leaves you, kissing your forehead before he’s slinging his katana over his shoulder and leaving you asleep. he’ll make it home before you realise he’s gone. the shift at the cafe is just finishing, and this won’t take long.

maybe his two personalities aren’t as far apart as he let you believe.

© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[cruel-hiraeth]

꒰ DEVOTION ꒱ OKKOTSU YUUTA X READER

cw: mdni. yandere yuuta. alcohol mention. implied drugging. implied noncon. a/n: a quick elaboration of this thought (yuuta is the king of gaslighting).

There’s a hickey on your inner thigh.

It’s a conclusion you arrived at as you pulled on a pair of fresh underwear this morning; there’s no other way to explain the amaranthine bloom on the supple (and otherwise unmarred) flesh. The spot is tender to the touch—its sensitivity proof that it’s indeed fresh.

Yuuta listens thoughtfully when you bring up the suspicious mark, nodding periodically as you walk him through your concerns.

Rubbing your temples, you sigh. “I’m just confused, Yuu, because we didn’t fuck last night.”

“We didn’t make love, no. We both had a bit to drink and fell asleep before anything could happen.”

“So—” you point to the mottled skin “—what’s this?”

He leans closer to inspect the mark. Jet strands fall across his vision, and he pushes his hair back when he sits up. “Honestly? It looks like a bruise to me.”

“But my bruises are never this color,” you frown.

“A bug bite, maybe?”

You shake your head. “My skin isn’t raised and it doesn’t itch.”

After a few beats of silence, you clear your throat. “Yuuta. You didn’t, um…” Your eyes flit your boyfriend’s, and you get lost in the serenity of his gaze—the slow swell of the sea on a hazy day. He looks at you sincerely, without any judgement or frustration; you can’t bring yourself to finish the question.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be accusatory; I’m just at a loss.”

He smiles softly with a tilt of his head (it’s your favorite expression of his—one that’s etched into your memory). He spreads a palm across your thigh, his thumb gently stroking the spot in question. “I want you to feel comfortable saying anything you want to me. I’m your safe space.”

Your heart swells at his words. He’s too good for you, truly.

He continues, “Maybe it’s just a fluke. As long as it heals, I wouldn’t worry too much.”

You nod. “I’m not sure why I was so worked up. It seems silly, now. Thank you, Yuu.”

Yuuta wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace; you bury your face into his chest with a contented sigh. He rubs your back, trying not to think back to last night, willing his cock to behave. But he can’t stop replaying the highlights in his mind: the little pill he slipped you when you weren’t looking, your precious snores as he spread you out on the bed, and your angelic expression as he had his way with you, leaving a surprise on your thigh—

A mark of his devotion.

[appleblueberry-pie]

I need a guy that isn’t “I almost lose my mind when I’m with you” but actually does. Like get lost in the sauce of our love fr fr. Go crazy go stupid. On GOD I need a pet boyfriend 😔 a devoted, all worshipful, loyal servant. Like please bae glare at everyone.

Anyway- can we have some feral obsessed hcs for Yuuta, Gojo, and Geto? I have an actual obsession problem with uninterested reader so that’s the plot. Just a couple of besties with one who wants to not just be besties 🫶😔

ok lightwork.

Yuuta

Everyone you're close with gets in the crossfire.

He doesn't give a damn. If they know you, he knows about them with or without their consent. It's uncomfortable, the amount of information he knows about every single person that you know. If you have enough knowledge to remember at least one significant thing about them, he will find a way to find out who they are, where they life, how they know you and other important things. Like age, sex, where they work and live.

Will fight people. Just not in front of you because you don't deserve to see that. When you're not there, he will not be seen by anyone in the public eye. People that hit on him get ignored completely or told off in a very rude way.

When you give him attention? He's soaking up every single piece of it and even tries to pull so much more out of you. Worships your body, every single action you take, every word that leaves your lips and even just loves when you're just being. You being present is enough to send him over the edge. Period.

Gojo

No one else matters but you. Only you and him exist in his universe. Where you live, what you've done in your life and what you two plan to do together later in life are the only things that matter to him. Don't ever mention hypothetical scenarios where you and him break up because it will never ever fucking happen, don't even try it.

When someone breaks the space between the two of you, he will not hesitate to intimidate him. That american type of angry. Stare them down, size them up, back them into a corner type of pissed. Won't give a fuck. If he has to eradicate someone in front of everyone, so be it.

Loves to stare at you. You're all he sees. If you're mad at someone, don't worry. They'll be gone by the time you wake up tomorrow. Everything revolves around what you want, what you need, and what can become possible with him at your side.

Geto

Him and Yuuta are the most similar at what type of worship they bring to the table. Please. He will give you all of his body, time, soul, every damn thing. Just take it. He doesn't care. Have eeeevery piece of him.

Wake up and he's there asking what you need, and he's there at night cradling you to sleep. Hates taking you outside because of those monkeys surrounding you, ruining your personal bubble and stinking the air. It's so easy for you to calm him down when he gets riled up. Just the thought of you being taken away from him by a monkey just pisses him off to no end.

He loves seeing you with his girls. It really makes his heart light and his stomach bubble with happiness. You are everything he's ever hoped for. So strong, so smart, so caring and selfless. You deserve the sun and moon being put in your arms just to keep you happy.

You deserve everything. He'll find a way to get you everything you deserve and more. Just give him a little time to do so.

[ramhaiba]

𝖮𝗇𝖾 𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗋

Pairing- Yandere Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader Masterlist

contains- modern au, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome(?), manhandling, intense bullying, cyberstalking, dubcon, oral (f receiving), thigh fucking, biting, unprotected sex

One year. It’s been one year since you were attacked from behind. You still remember every tiny detail of that event, you were struggling to find your stupid car keys in your purse, cursing under your breath. There was something eerie about being in an empty parking lot so late at night- but you were desperate for groceries. So there you stood, struggling to find your keys while your grocery bags rested next to your feet. 

You don’t know how you couldn’t hear him, it was like he was a ghost. It was all sudden, the feeling of his stern chest on your back, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other holding a black cloth over your mouth. You remember trying to fight him off of you but each second of inhaling the chloroform-infused rag made your eyelids grow heavy. 

When you woke up, your heart felt like it was about to run out of your chest as you noticed you weren’t in your room, realizing that your last memory wasn’t a simple dream. 

The room was unfamiliar, you were lying on a queen-sized mattress, the white walls were decorated with two small portraits of flowers, and the hardwood floor looked spotless as if someone had just finished polishing it. The room itself looked normal except for the fact there wasn’t a single window, the only source of light came from a bulb hung on the ceiling- in addition to the security camera tucked in the corner. 

Your first instinct was to run to the door, only to find it was locked. Then you banged your fist against it, cursing at anyone who was behind the door. 

That’s when you heard his voice for the first time, soft- slightly comforting as well. 

“Take ten steps back from the door,” he uttered, sounding more like a suggestion than a command. 

“What the fuck is this, let me out” you shouted back. “Ten steps away from the door” he repeated, tone with a hint of annoyance. “Where even am I? Asshole, if you don’t let me go right now I’ll-”

“I said ten fucking steps away from the door, Y/n” he shouted, his voice booming, banging his fist on the other side of the door, causing you to flinch. You didn’t dare to utter another word like your lips were stuck together by glue, slowly retreating a good distance away from the entrance.

You heard the voice sigh from behind the door before unlocking it.

He walked, dark hair swooped to the side, a light grey baggy sweatshirt paired with black trousers. The only thing odd about his appearance was a sliver argyle patterned masquerade mask wrapped around the top half of his face, highlighting his dark tired eyes. 

You don’t need to see his entire face to know you’ve never met him before. “H-how do you know my name?" You questioned, voice stuttering with anxiety, taking a step back the second he took a step closer.  

He gave you a disappointed look, his eyes narrowed through the mask, “because we know each other. Y/n” he replied. 

“What do you mean 'we know each other?' I don’t even know your name, you sick fuck” you remarked, clenching your fist. “Pancakes? Do you like pancakes? “ he asked, his voice calm and unbothered as if you hadn’t just cursed him out. 

“What? Why the hell are you asking me if I want pancakes” you scoffed. “For breakfast, of course” he beamed, lips curled in a sweet subtle smile. 

“I- I don’t want pancakes, I want to leave” you replied, voice stern. “Try to get some rest, you hit your head pretty hard before you got here” he suggested, as he began to retreat to the door. 

You looked at him in disbelief as his silhouette left the room. 

The next morning- or what you assume was the next morning, the ringing of a bell woke you, as your vision slowly focused on your surroundings, you noticed him sitting on your bed, holding a tray of breakfast assortments, head tilted as he smiled.

“I hope you slept well. I made you breakfast- I’m not the best chef, so don’t get too excited” he laughed embarrassed, leaning over to lay the tray on your lap.

You looked at the food, fresh pancakes drizzled with syrup, a glass of iced orange juice, and toasted bread on the side. Then you looked back at him, his innocent happy appearance pissed you off- it was like he wasn’t unaware of how morally wrong his mistakes were.  “I don’t want your fucking food- I want to leave” you shouted, trying to tackle him with the butter knife from the tray, the spread of food falling over as you pushed him to the ground, knees straddling his chest.

In an instance, his hands are on your waist, flipping you over as if it didn't take any effort difficulty, pinning your hand above your head, making you drop the butter knife, strands of dark hair dangling off his forehead. 

“If you ever do that again” he uttered, putting crushing pressure around your wrist as he squeezed them, he leaned over, his breath on your neck as he tilted his head, 

“I will fucking break your arm.”

That’s when you realize the man in front of you isn’t just your abductor - he’s a sociopath.

The first month of your new ‘lifestyle’ was the hardest, if he wasn’t keeping you company, you’d shout for help, praying for someone would hear you. But you’re pretty sure he was watching you on his phone, laughing to himself. 

He was interesting in a way in which he cared about you as if you were his pet, weighing you weekly, giving you vitamins to replace your need for sunlight, checking your temperature, and even trimming your hair. But not once for the entire year you’ve been with him has he ever taken that annoying sliver mask off. 

You wondered what would be under the mask, a scar or a burn? Maybe a really bad tattoo. 

There was a knock on the door, the knock meant that you had to step away from the door- exactly ten steps. As you watched the door slowly open, both of his hands held a silver platter on top of it was a circular handmade chocolate frosted cake with one yellow lit candle. 

He shut the door with his foot and used his elbow to hit the light switch behind him, the fire from the candle now more noticeable. “Sit down ” he advised, voice laced with excitement.

“What’s with the cake?” you asked, crisscrossing your legs as you sat on the softness of your mattress. “It’s a special day” he replied, sitting across from you as he placed the cake in the middle. “And why is that?” you questioned.

"It’s your birthday” he whispered as if it were a childish secret.

“My birthday?” you repeated. 

“Yeah, it's your special day. Go on, make a wish” he added, a sweet smile appearing on his lips, laying his hand on top of yours. 

That’s when your anxieties resurfaced, the girl who was scratching and biting her abductor every chance she got is coming back into the light. Fuck- how have you been here for a year? Why the hell are you still here- you need out because you can’t take it anymore.

“Y/n? Aren’t you going to blow out your candles” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, noticing that you pulled your hand away from his.

“I-I can’t” you stuttered, beginning to hyperventilate, palms becoming sweaty. “What? What’s wrong” he asked, voice laced with panic.

“No- this is wrong, I shouldn’t be here. I-”

“Y/n. You’re having a panic attack, just try to calm down” he advised, leaning over to comfort your face, only to be pushed away by his chest. “Get the fuck away from me ” you shouted. He’s tripping off the bed, letting out a hiss of pain, rubbing his forehead as he notices something.

He’s touching his skin.

He looked down at his chest, there his mask lay, the ribbons that were once tied together now unraveled due to the fall. Then he’s looking back at you, with a panicked expression.

It’s all hitting you back now.

You can’t forget that face, soft pale skin, eyebags lying under his dark blue eyes. 

“Y-Yuuta?” You uttered

You finally realized his identity because you knew him from freshmen year of high school- but you were nothing more than an acquittance to you. The mere thought of Yuuta’s existence was a far memory in the back of your head, so no wonder why you couldn’t recognize him until his mask was gone. Yuuta was just a guy from high school you felt bad for because he was bullied relentlessly. He looked different now, his classic bangs pushed to the side and he was never this physically strong. 

“Don’t look at me” he mumbled, panicked hands trying to tie his mask back on.

“W-why are you doing this to me? I-I never did anything awful to you” you questioned, feeling your eyes swell up with tears.

“No- No, This isn’t a punishment, Y/n. I-I’m in love with you. I always have been in love with you” Yuuta corrected, disregarding the attempt to put his mask back on, as he got on his knees to look up at you from the bed, a pitiful expression on his face. 

“Then what the fuck is this Yuuta? Y-you’re in love with me? I didn’t even talk to you in high school. Even if I did, there is no way in hell, I’d ever date a freakshow like you” you remarked.

It’s like the word ‘freakshow’ triggered something in Yuuta’s mind, bringing back the memories of him being constantly berated by his classmates. As you watched him stand up, his facial demeanor became cold, and his eyes that once looked at you with admiration became dull.

“Y-Yuuta?” you stuttered, slowly backing away on the bed until your back reached the wall.

Then you feel Yuuta’s hand wrap around your ankles, dragging you back towards him, your back pressed against the bed, legs dangling off of the edge. He leaned over, his chest hovering over yours, his face so close to the side of your neck that you could feel his breath against your skin.

“G-get off of me” you panicked, laying your palms flat on Yuuta’s chest as you tried to push him off, only for him to quickly pin them above your head, only needing to use one hand to detain both of yours, his grip wrapping around your wrists.

“I love you. From the second I saw you, I knew you were different- different from all the other assholes who would want to make my life a personal hell” Yuuta explained, his free hand going to caress your cheek, fingertips tracing the soft skin.

“I’m not though, I just stood by and watched it happen. I’m not special” you argued, tears swelling in your eyes. Yuuta clicked his tongue, adverting his eyes from your eyes, eyebrows narrowed as he recollected his thoughts.

“March seventh, my birthday. Some guys from our high school decided to beat the shit out of me as a sick present. They threw me in an alleyway like I was trash, and took my umbrella too so I was getting drenched by the rain. God- they punched me up so hard that I actually thought I was going to die, my eyesight was going blurry and I was freezing from the rain. I couldn’t get up or anything, so I just lay in that alleyway to accept death. But then an angel came to me and she held me tightly in her arms in the shivering rain as we waited for the ambulance she called to arrive. 

Don’t you get it, Y/n? You’re my angel.” Yuuta recited, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you.

You looked at him in disbelief, you can’t even argue because he’s right. You did decide to help him. It’s one thing to look the other way when he got called horrid things- but you couldn’t let him die in that alley.

“I-I only did that because I couldn’t let you die and I thought you were too exhausted to remember it was me to help you” you stuttered out the truth.

“How could I possibly forget? Forget the only person in this fucked up world who’s ever been kind to me” Yuuta replied.

“I barely know you” you whimpered, voice trembling as his face inched closer to yours

“And you are my everything” he mumbled, pressing his lips against yours into a tender kiss.

You’re embarrassed- You’re embarrassed by how soft Yuuta’s lips are, how good they feel on yours, causing your heart to race.

You’re embarrassed about how intoxicating the feeling of his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt, letting his cold fingertips roam your side.

And you’re embarrassed about how you want to stop. But you can’t.

Yuuta doesn’t realize it but he has the face of an angel and the touch of the devil. The second he’s kissing you, he has you under his control. You’re almost missing the feeling of his lips on yours as he moved to trail wet kisses on your neck, biting, sucking the exposed skin he could touch.

Then you’re tilting your head, looking at him descend between your legs, his knees touching the floor, his fingers hook under the hem of your pants, slowly sliding them off. You could feel the embarrassment burn your cheeks as you watched Yuuta’s immersed expression at the sight of your panties, the thin fabric separating your desperate cunt from his tongue.

Yuuta thinks it’s funny, he’s the one who specifically brought you those pairs of panties- of course, he was embarrassed buying women’s underwear so he only picked out ones for comfort rather than appeal. But there's just something about seeing you under him, your flustered expression while wearing the clothes he picked for you- the panties he brought for you. Fuck- it turns him on. 

His finger is gliding on your clothed slit, admiring the softness of the fabric, how your breath hitched when his fingertips pressed against your fabric above your clitoris.

He opens his mouth as if he were about to utter a word but then closes it, gulping his breath. He’s waiting- he’s waiting for you to stop him, to yell at him- to remind him that you don’t want to be here. “Yuuta. Why did- Why did you stop?” You uttered, voice hinted with shyness. He thinks he’s so stupid for not realizing it earlier but you’re sexually frustrated. This was certainly the most physical interaction you’ve gotten all year because Yuuta would mostly refrain from touching you too intimately. 

But hearing your words were the scissors that cut the thin thread holding Yuuta’s consciousness. Your panties were peeled off, legs hung over Yuuta’s shoulders as his mouth dived into your cunt, tongue dipping out of his lips, brushing over your swollen clit. 

Even the feeling of his hot breath against your needy cunt caused you to moan, you could barely contain yourself once you felt his fingers sliding into your entrance. Yuuta cursing at himself in his head if he had known how good it would be to taste you, he would have done it sooner. The pretty little noises that are slipping out of your mouth are going straight into his cock, his hips slowly grinding against the bed frame for a pathetic way of relief from the erection in his pants. 

Yuuta’s opting to switch out his fingers for his tongue, fucking you with the wet muscle, his nose nudging at your clit. 

Your hands grip the mattress as you lose yourself in pleasure, hips grinding against Yuuta’s tongue, growing needy on the feeling of him savoring your cunt. Yuuta doesn’t dare to pull away when you cum, if he could he’d spend the entire day between your legs, savoring the taste of your cunt and the sweet moans that fall out of your lips.

 It’s not until you're pushing his head away from you, does he pull back, wiping his slicked-covered chin with the back of his hand, chest heaving as his glance switches from the view of your wet pussy to your flustered expression. “ Y/n-“ Yuuta panted, getting up from his knees, giving you a better view of his hardened erection lying in his pants, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.

“That was- that was a mistake. I wasn't thinking correctly” you interrupted, adverting your away from Yuuta’s aroused composure, closing your legs to hide your wet cunt.

"This is far from a mistake, Y/n. ” Yuuta mumbled, tracing his finger from your calf to your thigh, before quickly straightening both of your legs to lean on his chest,

“This is fate bringing us together. This is the truest form of love."

While holding your legs together with one hand, Yuuta slightly pulls his hips away to undo his pants before slipping his hard cock between the softness of your thigh. He’s moaning at the warm feeling of your thighs tightening around his cock, instinctively humping between your legs. You bite your tongue every time Yuuta’s cock swipes against your slit, ashamed of the sexual frustration building up in you at his refusal to properly fuck you. You're wondering if this is his way to punish you- or maybe this is his way of helping you realize how desperate you are for his touch. 

“Feels good-fuck” Yuuta stuttered, leaning his head down as he memorized the image of his cock fucking your thighs.

“Yuuta, just do it already” you uttered.

“ Do what, pretty girl?” He asked, an innocent smile on his lips, placing a sweet kiss on your ankle.  

“J-just fuck me already” You confessed, forearms going over your face to cover your shame, not wanting to look at his reaction.

“That’s all you needed to say” Yuuta replied, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on the side of your neck before sliding his cock into your aching hole, the painful stretch causing you to bite your tongue.

“All you need to do is ask, sweetheart” Yuuta huffed, abdomen tensing at the tightness of your cunt sucking in his cock. 

“And I’ll do anything for you.”

Yuuta’s cock is slipping out of you, only the red tip still prodding in your walls until he’s snapping his hip, fucking his cock back into you causing you to gasp his name, overwhelming pleasure making your brain turn into mush. He can’t help but dip his head, letting out a moan, loud and unrestrained. And all you could think was

His moans are as pretty as his face.

But fuck- his pace is brutal, he’s bending one of your knees onto your chest, hard cock hitting a deeper angle in you. 

“Y/n. Hold on to me. Want you to kiss me, want you to bite me, want you to touch me” Yuuta panted, talking incorrectly due to his loss in pleasure, eyes half-lidded as he gazed upon your fucked out expression. His cock is bullying your cunt with harsh strokes until you finally submit, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as you bit into the crook of his neck erupting a groan from him. He’s letting go of your knee, opting for his hand to creep under your shirt, groping at the softness of your breast.

Yuuta doesn’t know how many times he’s shamefully jacked off to one of your social media posts, even if they were just an innocent picture of you in a garden or with friends, everything about you drove him crazy. He can’t believe he has you like this, on the verge of tears, desperate for his cock to edge you into your blissful orgasm, your fingers gripping the back of his black shirt, the sweet sounds of you moaning in his ear while he plays with your tits.

If this is a dream, he never wants to wake up.

When you cum, you let out the prettiest noise and your walls clench so hard against Yuuta’s cock that it almost makes him spill his load inside of you.

Yuuta doesn’t wait for you to recover from your high, while you’re still trembling his hips are thrusting into your wet cunt until he feels his orgasm. He pulls out last second and spills his cum on your inner thigh, his chest heaving as he pushed back his sweaty black hair, admiring the messy sight of his load dripping down your thigh. 

Once your high was over, the shame kicked in. The shame that you allowed and even enjoyed letting the man that ruined your life touch you- to fuck you. You can’t help but curl yourself up, trying to get as small as possible, while uncontrollable tears stream out your eyes.

Then you felt Yuuta’s soothing touch as he got on the bed, laid beside you, pulling you close to his chest, his hand slipping under your shirt, feeling your warm skin as he stroked your bare back.

“You took care of me all those years ago, so let me take care of you.I love you, my angel.”

If you were actually an angel, you think Yuuta would be the dagger that cuts your wings off, trapping you on Earth.

Trapping you with him.

Taglist-

@nyamocka @docosahexaenoic-san 

[moechies]

mean yuuta-nii with a crybaby reader, forcing her to do anal!! :3 (in honour of him showing up in the last episode of jjk for this season tee hee ;33)

tw dark content n0ncon, inct, anal, mention of parents

“y-yuuta nii.. please.. don’t..”

nii chan had your tummy pressed against the soft of your own bed, your panties and shorts pulled halfway down your thighs. his thumbs maliciously pulled open the fat of your ass, running this frigid finger down your slit and back up.

“nii chan..! s-stop! m-m gonna tell on you if you d-do this..”

“you’re gonna tell on me? what if i told otou-san and kaa-san how much you like it when i play with your pussy, hm? how much you like it when i put my fingers in y-“

“nii chan! s-stop..!”

you cried out yet again, feeling the soft of his thumb press into your ass. the pressure was overwhelming, the stretch unfamiliar.

your hands reach behind to press the man away, grabbing his wrists as a weak attempt to get him to stop.

“imouto chan, stop it and stay still. i know you don’t want to, but you’re not in any position to say no, mkay?”

before you have a chance to argue back, you feel a wet slick begin to rim the tight of your asshole, replacing his thumb. yuuta nii is generous enough to swipe the slick from your sticky cunt to your ass, just so it doesn’t hurt as much! your sullen cries of ‘stop,’ and ‘no,’ he loved it so much, you were just too cute!

he guides his swollen tip further and further inside, the pulsing pain searing through the lower part of your body. it burns, every inch that he continues to press in, it burns so much, but his whines and pants of arousal show that he feels differently.

“it’s okay imouto. i’ll make sure it feels good for you too,”

he reaches his hand down below, rolling your sweet clit in between his fingers, but never bothering to pay any attention to your needy hole.

“see, it feels good if i play with you like this right?”

you cry and thrash in his hold, a harsh hand slapping onto his wrists to remove his hand from your body at least. it was so frustrating, the painful and unfilling feeling from behind.

“it’s okay if you don’t like it imouto, but you’re gonna have to get used to it.”

[sencrose]

— LOVE ME HOW YOU LIKE ♡

pairing: okkotsu yuuta x idol!f!reader

tags: noncon, stalking, yandere, breaking in, unreliable narrator (mostly yuuta pov), aged up charas (yuuta’s in his 20s), solo male masturbation, squirting, breeding/pregnancy talk/baby trapping, multiple orgasms, overstim, cunnilingus, fingering, yuuji makes a short guest appearance in the intro lol

wc: ~8.6k (... idk how this happened)

summary: Yuuta’s oshi is a horrible enabler.

a/n: happy belated birthday yuuta! atp you can rip underground idol!reader from my cold dead hands. based off of a post i made a while ago. thank you @infinitatis-ink for beta reading :> dividers by @/adornedwithlight

ao3 link here

It’s not Yuuta’s usual scene, but he felt bad when nobody responded to Yuuji’s invitation to spend a night out in Shinjuku. In Yuuta’s defense, he thought they would maybe go to an izakaya or two, get a meal and a few drinks before heading home. However, what Yuuta was unable to predict was Yuuji deciding to go to an idol show on the fly. Yuuji was practically begging him to go, making promises that it’ll be a lot of fun. And when words don’t work, Yuuji grabs Yuuta by the wrist and leads him to the venue despite his protests.

So that’s how Yuuta finds himself in a random basement venue crowded with sweaty guys on a Saturday night. Again, not necessarily his idea of a night out. But Yuuta’s a good sport, so he’ll do his best to enjoy the show anyways.

What starts as a murmur bursts into a boisterous cheer as soon as the stage lights flash on. It’s radiant, nearly blinding. It’s not the lights that sear a black hole into his vision. No, it’s you.

In that fluffy costume that makes you look like a slice of cake personified. The way your skirt bounces exemplifies the pep in your step as you make your way around the stage. Your eyes meet his as you wave into the crowd, and he thinks he’s having a heart attack.

“Good evening everyone! We really hope you enjoy the show we have in store for you tonight!” you speak into the mic, exuding a blissful aura like it's second nature. Yuuta swears he can feel it embrace him, the first warm ray of sunlight you feel after a barren winter.

The crowd roars in response before quieting down. The silence only serves to spur the anticipation drumming throughout his body, his heart beating loudly in his ears, catching in his throat.

The instrumental starts with a sweet chiptune lead, and all hell breaks loose. The rhythmic chants and clapping nearly blow out his ear drums, and he loses Yuuji in the chaos of fans rushing closer to the stage. It’s disorienting, trying to follow along while not losing his sights on you.

He moves along with the crowd, ebbs and flows like the ocean’s waves. No matter how much he’s pushed, he’s focused on you. Once he finds his footing, it gets a bit easier. It lets him focus on other things, like learning your name through the fan chants. It’s a cute one, one he savors on his tongue whenever he yells along with the crowd as you sing.

With every step, every graceful note that spills from your lips, he can only feel himself falling deeper. It’s like you’re a siren, and him, the unfortunate sailor who’s all too willing to walk to his demise. He yells and cheers even louder in his trance, just to see if you’ll grace him with another look.

And you do.

It’s brief but you look right at him again for the second time tonight, with a dazzling smile that puts the sun to shame.

How can he keep your attention? Maybe he should’ve stopped by and bought a lightstick or two before coming in.

Song after song after song, he roots for you with a frenzied energy he didn’t know he had in him. It’s a battle against his parched throat to force the words out and really make sure you can hear him. Every time you look his way, he feels electric. It’s like static, all his hair standing on edge like he’s rubbed a balloon and your gaze is the point of contact that zaps you both.

Before he knows it, the show’s over. It’s far too soon for his liking. Even though it was Yuuji’s idea, Yuuta’s really warmed up to the whole thing–far more enthusiastically than he thought he’d ever be, so much so he’s tallying the number of times you looked his way.

Six. Six times he’s felt that electricity run through him, six times you’ve made him catch his breath and nearly choke on it. Did you feel it too? There’s no way you didn’t. He could see it in the way your eyes sparkled, in the smile that was hand-delivered to him. It’s too many times to be a coincidence.

Yuuta only manages to snap out of his trance when all the lights turn back on and Yuuji slings his arm around him.

“Sorry I lost ya earlier,” Yuuji apologizes, out of breath, presumably from dancing and chanting with the wotas, “how was it?”

“It was,” he pauses for a moment, “fun.”

“See, I told you it’d be fun!” Yuuji beams at the confession. “You wanna get chekis?”

“Chekis?”

“Yeah, like a picture with one of the girls. I already know who I’m choosing tonight!” Yuuji pats Yuuta on the back, a friendly gesture Yuuta returns in kind. “But since you don’t know the members, you can just choose a color. Doesn’t really matter.”

It doesn’t really matter, he said, but it really does. Because if Yuuta chose differently he never would have been able to meet you.

So once he gets to the front of the line, he points at the laminated picture of you.

It shouldn’t be this overwhelming. Idols are normal people too. It’s a lot more obvious with underground idols, in the dingy live venues they book, in the way they stumble over their words on stage or occasionally forget a dance move or lyric. There’s appeal in the imperfect, a diamond in the rough.

But that’s the thing, you still shine bright, blindingly so.

As Yuuta walks up to you, his nerves only get worse. His senses are running on overdrive taking you in, in all your ruffly glory. Something sweet and floral hits his nostrils as he breathes in. He didn’t consider you’d be wearing perfume. It’s the right amount – just enough to whet the palate and bite his tongue in fear of saying something wrong.

He thinks he’s seeing things when he’s barely an arms width away from you, and everything about you seems to sparkle.

You look giddy when he gets up to you, a large smile plastered on your face with open arms as if you’re reuniting with an old friend.

Is he supposed to hug you?

While he hesitates, you’re quick to close the distance, wrapping your arms around his waist. Yuuta carefully does the same to you, doing his best to not implode on the spot. When you let go, he’s flushed in the face and has to think about something else to calm himself down.

“Ah! I haven’t seen you around,” you ask with your hands behind your back and eyes wandering like you’re examining him, “you’re new here, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, you could say that,” he says. The room feels ten degrees hotter.

“What’s your name?”

“Yuuta.”

“Yuuta…” you repeat carefully, as if you’re tasting it on your lips, “Cute name for a cute guy. Is it ok if I call you Yuu-tan?” You look at him with this doe-eyed expression that makes his chest taut.

When you say it like that, with your eyes glimmering under the stage lights, how could he say no? Yuuta’s stumbling over his words, babbling like an idiot before he’s finally able to get out a meek, “sure.”

You seem to like that, your face lighting up with pure glee.

“Alright Yuu-tan, what kind of pose did you have in mind?”

He absolutely did not think this far ahead. He has to tell himself to calm down, breathe in, breathe out, before asking, “what kind of poses do you usually do?”

“Mmm… Hearts are pretty common I’d say.” You gently grab his hand and the softness of your skin triggers alarm bells in his head. He’s in danger. “But since it’s your first time, how about we do something special?”

You say it in a way that has him blushing harder – first times.

“S-special?” he repeats.

Carefully, you wrap your arms around his waist. Softer than when you first grabbed him. Like there’s a gentle affection weaved within your embrace.

Your face is pressed against his chest. It’s enough for his breathing to shorten, to be far too aware of the pressure you place on him.

With an innocent pout you look at him, softly reassuring him, “Just pretend I’m like your girlfriend or something.”

You’re close–too close. And this whole situation is just too much for him. There’s no escape from you–your smell, your warmth, the softness of your skin.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Yuu-tan?” you ask, leaning into him more.

Did he hear you right? Every time you talk it feels like you do so with the express purpose of stealing the air from his lungs. But still, there’s no way that’s what you asked him. Right?

“Huh?”

“I said,” you purr into his ear before repeating your question, “do you have a girlfriend, Yuu-tan?”

So, he did hear you right. Now he’s scrambling again for an answer, blood pumping so hard he can hear it steadily pulsing in his ears.

“N-No.”

“Then you can think of me as yours!” you exclaim, far too easily. It echoes like a clocktower’s bell at noon. If he listens close enough, he swears he can hear the notes of a wedding march.

The only anchor that can bring him back down to Earth is a tug on his shirt, a whisper of your touch against his chest. When his eyes meet yours, he’s starstruck. The glitter around your eyes only serves to make his heart beat faster, how it sparkles and makes you look even sweeter.

“Alright, look at the camera for me, okay?”

So he does. You get in position too, soft lips pressing against his flushed cheek. It happens too quickly for him to react, and with a countdown from three and a flash, the picture’s taken.

You’re quick to sign the polaroid, and Yuuta can barely get a look at what you’re writing before you finish.

“Hold it carefully, ok? The ink can smudge,” you instruct him, gently passing over the picture. “And don’t shake it! The whole shake it like a polaroid thing is a myth.”

He silently takes the picture in his hand, carefully taking it in. You’re able to fit a decent amount on the picture. In the top left corner, “To my beloved Yuu-tan,” and in the bottom right, “Thank you for coming!”

“I hope you’ll come back again,” you say sheepishly, a bit like a girl who just confessed to their crush on the school rooftop.

“O-Of course!” Yuuta’s practically forcing the words out of his words, doing his best not to choke.

“Pinky promise?” You lay out your pinky for him, waiting expectantly. Yuuta, on the other hand, is struggling to recollect himself.

“Mmhm.” He brings his pinky over to yours, and you wrap around each other’s fingers. Yuuta thinks it’s just that until you bring your hand back to kiss your thumb.

“Seal it with a kiss?” you ask with an innocent smile.

“Huh?”

You don’t repeat yourself, simply look at him in a way that makes his cheeks red. After a moment, Yuuta repeats the motion, nearly shaking as he brings both of your hands closer to his lips before kissing his thumb.

By the time he finds the courage to look you in the eyes, he’s sure there’s steam coming out of his ears. His gaze shifts down, but darts back up as soon as he hears you giggle.

“You promised! No take-backsies. I don’t like broken promises.” You pout before breaking back into that picture perfect smile of yours. “Thanks for coming by, Yuu-tan!”

– The post concert dress down is the same as usual. Struggling to get out of polyester costumes clinging to your skin from sweat, doing your best to fold your ruffled layered skirt into a manageable mass and failing the first couple of times. It’s a routine you’ve gotten used to.

What you’re not used to, is receiving a warning from one of your groupmates.

“Hey.” Your group leader stands over you as you attempt to continue packing your costume away. “You've gotta be a bit more careful.”

You look up at her with a raised brow, taking in her disappointed expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she relents, her tone becoming more annoyed than disappointed.

So this is what you think it’s about. But it really isn’t any of her concern. You haven’t had any problems until now, so what’s the harm in continuing? If anything, she should be grateful. If you were to crunch the numbers, you’re sure you bring in a decent amount of fans by playing up the girlfriend experience schtick. And not just any type of fans – devoted ones. Those that return to night after night to spend a minute of their time with you. Those that would empty out their wallets at a snap of your fingers.

If you were to be honest with yourself, you like the power you hold. There’s a thrill that rushes to your head when your fans are stumbling over their words, stringing along a response for the sole purpose of pleasing you. But there’s no way you’d ever admit that to her. She just wouldn’t get it.

You let out a deep sigh. “It’s fine! This type of crowd is harmless. I’m just trying to do my job, you know.”

“You’re going to attract some crazies if you keep going down this path.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You shrug her off as you finally fit your costume into your luggage, swiftly zipping it close before it has the chance to recoil.

“Hey.” She grasps your shoulder to grab your attention. “Listen, I’m being serious,” she says, and there’s a genuine tinge of concern in her voice.

“Me too. I’m making us money. Good money. And if it means I have to bat my lashes and put on an act, then that’s what it is.”

She sighs, defeated. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

–

In the days after the concert, Yuuta falls into a rabbit hole. It’s just too easy – your group is pretty active on social media, trying and promoting just about anything that’ll stick. It starts simple enough with a livestream here and there. Just listening to you talk makes his heart all warm and fuzzy.

The longer he lurks and follows, the more he realizes just how many opportunities there are to take you in. You being an underground idol works in his favor. Desperation’s the name of the game, with you selling just about anything you can get your likeness on – signed polaroids, acrylic standees, can buttons, the list goes on.

Eventually, he’ll put in orders for those as well, but none of them replace the sensation of holding your hand in person, of your soft lips against his face.

At the end of the day, there’s no way you can’t see his devotion towards you. At this point he knows everything there is to know about you–through the selfies you post online, the memes you retweet, even the daily blog post where you write about your day.

There’s more than that as well. There’s an inherent intimacy he feels in the single shot chekis he orders as soon as the shop link drops on Twitter, in the comments he leaves on your livestreams, with the username you unknowingly gave him.

And in the short weeks he’s been following your account, he’s greeted with a rare chance encounter. A custom video, made by you, just for him. And though the price is probably hefty for what it is, he’s quick to seize the opportunity.

Sure, he’s burning a hole in his wallet. But how can he complain? When he can hear your sweet voice again, talking to him like he’s the only one in the room. It’s the closest thing he can get to seeing you for now. Things have just been so busy these days. He wonders how other sorcerers play the balancing act between dating and work.

But just a couple weeks later he gets an e-mail. He nearly jumps in his seat in his room when he sees the e-mail notification with the subject line “to my beloved yuu-tan~”.

His phone comes alive with you in frame, sitting in something different from your usual stage costume. Something cute, something that sends butterflies to his stomach and a blush to his cheeks. A comfy sweater that seems just a little bit too big for you, along with a matching skirt. The hem dangerously brushes against your upper thighs, and he has to make a considerable effort to draw his gaze back to your eyes.

The background is a simple white backdrop, and judging from the lighting situation, it’s probably something you filmed in your room. You’re filming this. In your room. Just for him. The thought is enough to make his heart race.

“Is this on?” Your finger taps on to the camera, face getting closer to the lens before moving back. Even when you’re clueless, you’re adorable. “Ah, it is.”

“Yuu-tan! Thanks for supporting me so much as you always have!~” Your voice is bright as always. The way your nickname for him dances on your tongue feels like a salve for even the most mortal of wounds.

“Your support is number one in my heart, you know. But Yuu-tan…”You drag out his name in a way that’s too much for him, and the way you pout up at the camera? This has to be attempted murder, he thinks. But he continues listening attentively. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. I miss you, I really do.” Your voice pulls on his heartstrings and makes him ridden with guilt. It genuinely pains him to hear you like this, his chest tightening at the sound. But then your voice lightens up, your expression brightens with the next words that slip past your lips, “you’ll come to the next show, won’t you?”

Yuuta finds himself nodding at his phone, as if you’ll be able to see his response if he’s enthusiastic enough. Yet, it’s as if you knew exactly how he’d reply.

“Alright, I’ll see you there then! This is a promise.” You lift your pinky up to the camera before pulling it back. “Oh wait, I don’t think I can do this through the camera, haha. Guess you’ll just have to finish it in person! Bye bye!” you sign off, and the video ends there, paused on your angelic smile.

Yuuta nearly breaks his phone replaying the video over and over again. It’s surprising the image of you hasn’t been burned onto his screen. But there’s one part in particular that’s his favorite.

It’s when you pout and disarmingly look up at the camera. Bat your eyelashes in just the right way to make him pitch a tent in his pants. That combined with the way you say his name, it’s no surprise the next thing he does is frantically search for the bottle of lube in one of his drawers.

What happens next, there’s no way you can fault him for it. All he can think about is how cute you are as he dispenses lube on to his right hand and unzips his pants with his left. Once his cock’s free, he groans as he palms himself, daydreaming about how you’d hold him. His other hand finds his phone, repeatedly going back to the same timestamp where you’re practically moaning for him.

He finds a rhythm, fast. Not just for jerking off, but looping your voice in a way that makes him light-headed. It just adds another layer to the image of you playing in his head. If he times it just right, he can pretend that slick wet sound of him fucking his hand is your sweet pussy instead. His pace gets faster, thinking about the other kinds of sounds he could wring from you.

You would moan so sweetly for him. He’d do everything in his power to make sure of it. He’s far from a selfish lover. He’d be sure to prep you beforehand, his hands tracing the curve of your body before delving into your underwear. Start a bit slow, teasing you into asking for more as he plays with your clit. He wonders what kind of expression you’d wear.

Maybe you’d be a bit shy. Maybe you’d be needy, desperate to ask him for more. Whatever’s the case it doesn’t matter, as long as he gets to hear your sweet voice.

Once he’s tested the waters he’d go faster, and he thinks about the heave of your chest, the short breaths you’d give him as you’re getting closer. Would you call him by his real name, or the nickname you’ve given him? He doesn’t really mind either way, but part of him hopes for the former. Regardless, the mental image of you cumming on his fingers along with your voice played on loop is enough to send him over the edge with a choked moan, hot ropes of his seed spilling from his slit. Yuuta’s body nearly gives out as he relaxes back into his chair, exhausted and out of breath.

“Alright, I’ll see you there then! This is a promise!” Your voice plays again through his phone as he finally comes down from his high.

So he steels himself. Tells himself that it doesn’t matter what the occasion is, he’ll make sure to go to the next live show, the one after, and the one after that. It’s a promise, after all.

—

The next time Yuuta goes to see you, he’s a bit more prepared. At least, that’s what he likes to tell himself.

In reality, he’s still just as nervous as the first time. While the video was nice, it just doesn’t hold a light to seeing you in person. Getting a waft of that sweet, floral perfume of yours as he approaches you, relishing at how the smell of the live venue just seems to disappear in your presence. Then there’s the ball that forms in his throat that he can’t swallow as he gets closer.

You light up as soon as you see him, star-bright.

“Yuu-tan!” you shuffle up to him with your arms outstretched for a hug, “I missed you!”

“I missed you too,” he says, and it feels like a weight’s been lifted off his chest. He brings you in closer, but feels a bit self conscious when he realizes just how tight you’re holding on to him. Tight enough that he can feel the curve of your tits pressed against him. Then he finds himself panicking and letting go.

“Did you have a good time at the show?” you ask, seemingly unphased by his internal plight.

”I did, I did,” he replies, nodding a bit too enthusiastically.

“I’m so happy you remembered our promise.”

”O-Of course.”

“What kind of pose did you want today?” Your expression softens as you put your hands behind your back and bend slightly, look up at him doe-eyed and curious.

After all he put into coming to the show, he’s stunned into silence. He had one in mind, but the idea simply melted as soon as he saw you. He can’t help it, it’s just what you do to him. He’s sure he’s making a fool out of himself again, and can feel it in the way his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

”Could you choose again?” he asks meekly.

“Hmm…” you muse, pouting dramatically and placing your chin in between your thumb and index finger. Yuuta waits with bated breath.

“Could you make a circle with your arms?” you say with a snap of your fingers.

”H-Huh? Sure.” He awkwardly follows your instructions, his fingertips meeting one another, miming the act of holding a large box against his chest.

You bend down and disappear from his vision, only to reappear between his arms.

“Boo!” you exclaim, palms faced outward with your fingers spread apart.

Yuuta’s startled. It isn’t that the act itself is scary, but the way you press against his chest and grin at him awakens a gnawing desire in his head. The lengths he would go to see you smile like this for him–just for him. By the time he’s shaking out the thoughts out his mind, he realizes you’ve been waiting for a response.

“Ah, you really scared me,” Yuuta jokes, feigning a scared expression to soothe his nerves.

“Hm? You think I’m scary, Yuu-tan?” you quip back, but then you’re pouting your lips, and the way the glitter glimmers under the stage lights makes it look like you’re going to cry.

It’s like you’ve pierced his heart, he swears he can feel it. Maybe with Cupid’s arrow. It seems like a side effect of this is becoming a blubbering mess every time he tries to speak.

“N-No, that’s not what I meant!”

“Don’t worry,” you giggle with a bright smile that soothes his heart, “I’m just messing with you.”

Gently, you adjust his position until his arms are wrapped tightly around your waist.

But when you press up against him, Yuuta thinks you’re approaching dangerous territory. Even with all the layers in your skirt, he swears he can make out the shape of your ass. It doesn’t help that you keep adjusting your position, brushing against his clothed cock multiple times over. All he can do is bite his tongue and hope that nothing comes to light.

“Yuu-tan, is this ok?” You look back at him with that innocent glimmer in your eyes.

”Y-Yeah, it’s perfect,” he replies, nearly biting his lip as he does so.

You give the cameraman the okay to take the picture, and with a countdown that feels longer than last time, the picture’s taken.

“You’ll come to the next show, right, Yuu-tan?”

“Of course.”

“Pinky promise?” You outstretch your pinky again, and this time, Yuuta’s swift on the uptake, wrapping his pinky around yours with more enthusiasm than last time. It’s such a simple gesture, but Yuuta is fond of promises and all they represent. Love intertwined in a simple hook of pinkies. The gentleness of your thumbs pressing against each other, the giggle that leaves your lips as you make a heart with your hands.

“Pinky promise,” he repeats with a gentle smile.

—

In the days that follow, Yuuta’s come to a realization.

Don’t get him wrong, seeing you perform is great and all, but his favorite moments with you are the intimate ones. The one on ones, the short and sweet conversations where he can tune out the rest of the world. And when he does the math, they’re too few and far between.

Simply put, he can’t wait for the next show. So, he forges his own opportunities. It’s just too easy to do when you post selfies of where you’re handing out flyers for the night. Part of him thinks your agency should be a little more conscious of internet safety, but then again he wouldn’t have been able to find out where you were if that were the case.

Thanks to your social media posts, it doesn’t take that long to find you. It’s busy in Shinjuku but it’s pretty easy to follow the endless trail of girls hanging out flyers. Even though you’re lined up with all the other idols, hostesses, and maids dressed to the nines to promote themselves, he could easily pick you out of the crowd. They just don’t hold a candle to you.

“Please come to our show!” you exclaim with a smile, waving the flyer and hoping the random man in front of you will take it. And for once, he does. So you look up. “Oh! Yuu-tan! What’re you doing here?”

Yuuta feels all warm and fuzzy at the mention of the pet name.

“Ah, I was just running some errands,” he says sheepishly.

“Really?” you ask back in a hushed whisper before breaking into a smile, “what a coincidence!”

Before you can comment any further, a man sneaks into your field of vision and interrupts the conversation, shyly waving his hand at you and asking for a flyer. Your eyes light up for a second before you turn to give him your attention.

“Please come to our show!” you casually hand over the flyer to the stranger with a smile.

Yuuta doesn’t like that.

For a split second, he thinks you should quit being an idol. But then the thought boomerangs back, sits and marinates as he considers it further.

Yeah. That might be a good idea.

“It was nice chatting with you Yuu-tan, but I really gotta get back to work.” You pout at him. It hits him differently this time. He almost mistakes it for guilt, but it’s not quite that. It’s not as surface level, gets deep under his skin like poison and spreads unease throughout his body.

“I’ll see you at the next show, Yuu-tan!” you send him off with a wave and a smile, one he thinks is too soon.

Yuuta waits for you to brand your pinky for him, but it never comes.

Disappointment. It’s disappointment.

He’s been a fool. You’re distracted by all these so-called fans that you can’t see what’s right in front of you. Worse of all, your agency is putting you up to it. He really thinks it’s time for you to quit.

So Yuuta waits.

For an idol, you lack a crucial sense of self-awareness. You don’t even notice when Yuuta follows behind you once you finish your shift. Even as the bustle of the city crowd quiets down as you make your way to your agency building on a random side street, you don’t notice he’s trailing behind. Imagine how much danger you’d be in if some crazy fan were to follow you. You’re lucky to have Yuuta there for you, he just needs to make you see it too.

He almost loses you when you leave the agency building in much more normal and muted. He nearly has to stop himself from drooling at the sight of it. He can see it so clearly, the image of you wearing it on a date with him. Maybe it’d be at a cafe, somewhere he can see you laugh and smile with him as he feeds you an intricate, overpriced slice of cake. But before he gets too lost in his imagination, Yuuta shakes it off and resolves himself to continue following you.

The longer he follows you, the more Yuuta starts to feel invisible. You don’t notice him when he’s right behind you at the turnstill. When he follows you through all the twists and turns of the station, hell, even when he’s three spots behind you in line for the train. The lack of self-preservation is stunning, he thinks. More than that, how could you not notice your number one fan, your boyfriend, putting in all this effort to make sure nobody hurt you? But it doesn’t matter–soon enough you won’t have to worry about that.

You step off the train after a few stops, and Yuuta’s always behind you, not that you’re aware. The rush of people leaving the train is enough to help him blend in, but once you leave the station he adds some slack to the distance.

Another fifteen minutes of walking and he’s there, watching from a distance as you unlock your apartment and go inside.

Yuuta waits a minute before approaching the unit you just walked into. The lock to your apartment isn’t anything he can’t break through, and with a pointed blast of cursed energy, the lock breaks with a quiet snap. He makes a note to himself to tell you to get a better place.

Then again, it’d be best if you just lived with him anyways. He’d take care of anything, everything, as long as it’s for you.

The door creaks just a little as he opens it slowly, careful not to disturb you.

The apartment is cramped, narrow halls made even smaller by the coats you have hanging on wall hooks, but just down the corridor he can see your living room. Calmly, he takes off his shoes and places them down neatly next to yours before quietly walking over. You aren’t there.

He backtracks to where the hallway splits, approaching the bedroom door. It’s slightly ajar, tantalizing like a bow on top of a present. It’s as if you were expecting him.

When he pushes the door open with a slight tap, Yuuta’s greeted by a half naked figure. You were probably in the middle of undressing. He takes a moment to mentally thank whatever higher up there gave him the blessing of perfect timing.

“Get out of my apartment!” you yell, throwing whatever you can at him, but it doesn’t seem to do any damage. He walks casually towards you, even as you tremble. He doesn’t understand why you’re shaking, but he knows he can fix it. You have nothing to worry about, everything will be better now that he’s here.

His expression softens as soon as you look him in the eyes.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Yuuta coos.

“Y-Yuu-tan?” you ask, voice out of breath from thrashing around, “what are you doing here?” your voice drops in a way that he hasn’t heard before. It’s intimate, he thinks.

“I’ve been worried about you,” he says, a tenderness wrapped in his words.

“Worried?” you ask in the softest tone he’s ever heard. It endears him.

“Yeah. You didn’t pinky promise me today.”

“Huh?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You usually pinky promise me before you say bye. But you were so distracted today.”

There’s a brief pause, but it feels like it lasts a lifetime. Yuuta studies your expression, one he doesn’t recognize. When your eyes meet his, he takes it as a sign to explain himself further.

“And it’s not just that. During your lives, I see you looking at other guys and it really hurts me,” his voice softens, his chest tightening at the confession. He notices the tears falling down your face, and scrambles to make it better. “But you don’t need to do any of this anymore. You have me,” he says with a hand against his heart.

It doesn’t seem to help as your barely contained cries become louder.

“Yuu-tan, you’re scaring me,” you confess.

He tilts his head.

“I don’t think I’ve said anything scary?”

Another pause. He waits for an answer but isn’t given one he wants as you run for the door. It’s a losing game to run from him, his body quick to shield you from the door, his hand tightly wrapping around your wrist.

“Why are you running?” he asks, genuine hurt in his voice.

“Because you’re scaring me, Yuu-tan,” you reply, voice trembling.

“I’m not trying to be scary, I just want to be a good boyfriend for you,” he whispers softly against your ear, and to prove his point, his hand grazes your thigh, traveling further until his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear. “Make you feel good like you’ve done for me,” he says breathlessly.

“N-No, I don’t want this, please,” you beg.

Your words are rearranged by the time they hit his ears. For all intents and purposes, all he hears is “I want this, please” and that’s all he needs to kiss you. It’s soft for a moment, but then it’s as if something snapped inside him.

There’s no patience behind it; he’s waited so long after all. He kisses like his time with you is sand trickling down an hourglass and he’s on his last grains. All groans and grasping at your cheeks to keep you with him, hot and heavy.

“Y-Yuu-tan, please,” you plead shakily.

There’s something at the end of your words he doesn’t catch, but he’s all too willing to give you what you want, especially when you’re asking so nicely.

Your breathing quickens as his hand presses down on your legs so you can’t escape. Yuuta’s hand gingerly traces up your thigh until he gets to your underwear. The soft breath you let out when he brushes over your clit sends blood rushing straight down to his cock.

His tongue brushes against the cotton fabric of your underwear, a cute moan leaving your lips, just for him. It’s what he’s been craving to hear, the subject of all his sweetest dreams and basest fantasies, and it’s better than he could have ever imagined. Now that he has it, he needs more.

There’s no warning, no tact to his movements, he can’t hold himself back any longer. There's only pure, unadulterated desperation with every stroke of his tongue against your underwear until he finally pulls the fabric to the side.

When your hand grasps his hair, he’s taken by surprise but he doesn’t dislike it. He indulges you and even lets out a throaty moan when you tighten your grip. He didn’t take you for the rowdy type, but you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?

It enables him further to dive into you and lap around your clit to hear those short gasps that sound like music to his ears. His arms wrap around your thighs to bring you in further, his nose pressing into you as he starts to build a steady tempo.

It seems to be too much for you with the way your body keeps shifting, but Yuuta is nothing if not determined. Maybe you’re testing the depths of his dedication, but there’s no universe where he’d ever fail you. No matter how much you move, he’s stuck to you like a leech, sucking at your clit with fervor. There’s intention with every motion, in the way he huffs and inhales deeply through his nostrils, in the messy way he sucks and slurps at your slick.

Even though he’s working so hard to please you, something’s not quite right. You’re so… quiet. It makes Yuuta think you’re holding yourself back. There’s no need for that, especially between lovers. Soulmates, even.

“Let me hear how good you feel,” he pants between breaths, “it’s okay.”

His movements become more pointed, determination lighting a fire in his stomach just to hear how sweet you get when you cum. The anticipation is killing him, but he thinks there’s been a breakthrough when your thighs tighten around his head, your breaths getting shorter by the second.

When you finally cum, it’s nothing short of heavenly. Sweeter than any note he’s heard you sing on stage, better than what he’s heard in his dreams. It’s not just that, but the full body reaction as well. The trembling, the taut muscles, the rise and fall of your chest– it’s all so erotic.

So your love language is words of affirmation. He makes note of that.

The only complaint Yuuta has is that the moment was far too short lived for his tastes. He has to hear more. See more. Have more. His fingers press gently against your wet hole, one small push from penetrating.

“W-Wait, it’s sensitive–”

Yuuta cuts you off by slipping it in with ease, quickly followed by another. Hungrily looks at the point where he’s connected to you. He starts slowly, fingers carefully pressing and curling until he finds a spot that gives him the reaction he’s looking for.

“Too-too much, stop-”

He doesn’t. Why would he ever deprive you of pleasure? He presses in further, bullies the spot that makes you scream louder. It’s not long until he sends you tumbling into another climax. It’s far more drawn out than the first. He can feel it in the way your walls convulse around his fingers.

Even though it might be too much, Yuuta still fingers you through it. He can’t help it. You just look so cute like this, reduced to a sputtering mess. And knowing that he’s the only one who has the privilege of seeing this side of you? He’s on cloud nine.

He knows he’s being a bit mean right now. But there’s so much lost time to make up for. He might also be letting his jealousy of seeing you with another man get the better of him right now, but it’s ok. At the end of the day, he’s making you feel good.

Yuuta watches with wonder and amusement as you cum again. He almost feels bad for pushing you this far, seeing the way you squeeze your eyes shut and thrash around through your orgasm. While he’s not a fan of your pain, he loves being your source of comfort, the one to clean up your tears. It’s a necessary evil, he tells himself.

Yuuta plants a trail of kisses down your neck to help shoulder the burden, and it seems to help as you come down from your high.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he sighs, adoration laced in his voice as he kisses your forehead.

“Y-Yuu-tan,” you pant, “you’ve already made me feel so good. D-Don’t you think that’s enough?”

“Of course not,” he responds with a soft gasp as if he’s incredulous at the idea, “I have so much more I want to give you.”

“More?” you ask shakily.

“Mhm,” he purrs with a soft smile, unphased by the tremor in your voice. His fingers slide in and out of you with ease, drawing another soft lewd sound out of you.

“No, no, no, I can’t, I can’t-” you plead, before you’re cut off by a kiss. Yuuta notices you have this habit of denying yourself anything good for you, but you don’t need to do that. What are boyfriends for? He doesn’t stop, even when you scratch and leave blossoming trails of rose on his skin. It only makes him intensify his movements, picking a fast rhythmic pace to hit that spot that makes you moan so sweetly.

When you cum with a wail, Yuuta’s there to swallow every cry you give him, tongue swirling against yours to help you through it. There’s a tenderness to it, as if he’s telling you it’ll all be okay. In between labored breaths he huffs in your ear with a neediness in his tone, “let it all out for me.”

He didn’t mean it literally, but he’s not displeased with the results either. That being said, it does catch him by surprise when you clench and gush all over him and the sheets. The warmth of you soaking his pants makes him feel dizzy with lust. Next thing he knows he’s nose deep into your folds, lapping up at everything you have to give. Not a drop goes to waste, not when he lifts your legs and traces the trail of juices from the fat of your ass to your inner thigh.

It’s just too much for him. When he comes up for air, he’s hastily picking at his pants.

“Have you done this for anyone else?” he asks as he unbuckles his belt and slides down his pants.

You shake your head furiously in embarrassment. It’s cute. Part of him wishes he could record a video of it and save it for later. But there’s more pressing matters at hand.

Yuuta’s hard cock presses against the fabric of his boxers, begging to be freed. His hand barely breaks through the elastic when it springs free, slapping his stomach from the recoil. Seeing your hole slick with arousal for him is almost enough to make him cum right there. He takes a deep breath and tries to collect himself.

Yuuta strokes his cock before pressing it between your folds, collecting all your arousal along the way. Even this is enough to make him shiver, feel it deep in his core. He bites his lip and lines himself up with your entrance. The sight of your hole quivering as he taps his tip against it makes him lightheaded.

So he starts slow, presses against your cunt steadily until he gets past that first ring of muscle that makes you gasp. From there, it’s just a matter of patience and self control, pushing further and further until he finally bottoms out with a groan. It goes in so easily, it’s like you were made for this–for him. Yuuta feels like he’s floating.

While Yuuta’s never been one to think about his size, he still sees you squeezing your eyes shut. His hand caresses your cheek before he reaches for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up to his lips and gives your fingers a chaste kiss, from one lover trying to comfort another.

“Hey, it’s in. It wasn’t that bad, right?” he asks softly, like he’s letting you in on a secret.

You give him a shy nod, and he smiles at that.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praises, gently wiping the tears from your eyes. Even in the afterglow of your tears, you look beautiful. Then again, he’d find beauty in anything you give him. It doesn’t matter what kind of expression you wear, as long as it’s just for him.

“I’ll start slow, ok?” Yuuta brandishes his pinky.

There’s a moment of pause, a shake to your hand as you wrap your pinky around his. He’s already one step ahead of you and swiftly seals it with a kiss and a giggle.

Yuuta keeps his promise, as he languidly rolls his hips into yours. It takes every ounce of self control to keep a slower pace, but he has to savor his first time with you. You feel perfect around him–your warmth enveloping him like a blanket, almost suffocating with its embrace. It’s too much for him, he can’t keep biting his lip and holding back his moans. Then again, he’d be a hypocrite holding himself back, wouldn’t he?

So he lets whatever sounds caught in his throat escape through his lips, lets you hear just how much you’re messing him up. All broken groans and whimpers of your name. And maybe it’s a bit too much for you, seeing you grab the pillow to cover your face. But Yuuta isn’t embarrassed, and you shouldn’t be either, so he’s quick to toss the pillow off the side of the bed.

“Y-Yuu-tan, please,” you ask.

It sounds like there’s something else you were going to say, but the noise thins out into a hushed whine. But Yuuta can read between the lines. His hands spread your legs apart further for leverage, his lips pressing against yours until he builds it up to a slew of open mouthed kisses. Tongue against tongue, choked gasps and moans escaping into each other’s mouths. He kisses you like he wants to consume you, breathes in so intensely like you’re the air he needs in his lungs.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted. He can’t help himself from rutting his hips into yours a little harder, losing himself in the soft plush of your walls squeezing him tighter with every passing moment. Even the wet sounds of his cock fucking into you is melodic to him, along with your staccatoed gasps, it’s an earworm he wouldn’t mind keeping.

He can’t let himself all the fun though, his fingers making their way to your throbbing clit. It seems to catch you by surprise, earning a yelp from you that soon melts into a moan.

“Yuuta-”

The world stops moving. It’s as if he’s frozen in place as soon as he hears his name from your lips. No nickname, no extra letter. Just Yuuta. It’s enough to make his head spin, his nerves go haywire as he snaps his hips into yours faster, desperate to hear it again.

“Say it again,” he groans breathlessly, desperately trying to keep himself from cumming right then and there.

“Yuuta, Yuuta-” you whine in that tone he’s dreamt of, stroked himself to on lonely nights and he’s so close. All self control goes out the window as he practically fucks you into the mattress. He feels delirious feverish with an ailment that can only be cured through you. He can’t let you go; not now, not ever.

An idea hits him like a strike of lightning, reverberates throughout his entire being. His pace slows for a second. There’s a look of confusion on your face.

“If we have a baby, you’ll have to quit, right?” he asks, his finger gently tracing a heart around your stomach.

Your pupils dilate. Yuuta recalls that it’s a sign of love. Affection. His heart skips a beat.

“Y-Yuu-tan,” you mumble, a tremor in your voice, “what are you saying?”

“You’ll have to stay if we have a baby,” he whispers into your ear before his hips snap into yours, “right?”

You make some unintelligible noise in response, but he knows it’s just because you’re overwhelmed with joy at the idea. Knowing you’re happy makes him happy too.

There’s no time to waste, an urgency to Yuuta’s movements as he pushes against your legs until you’re folded into a mating press. His hips pick up a steady rhythm, the loud slap of skin echoing throughout the room.

Yuuta fucks you like he means to make good his proposal–his body pressed flush against yours, his hands wrapping around the back of your head to bring you into his embrace. He throws caution to the wind, lets lust take over.

Everything about you is overwhelming. How you scratch at his back, how you bite down on his neck hard enough to draw blood, how your legs tremble with each stroke. It’s like you want it just as bad as he does.

And who is he to deny you? His hand slips between your sweat covered bodies, trails down to your throbbing clit to show it some love. He wants you to feel as good as he does, or better. Preferably the latter.

He knows he’s doing a good job when he hears that tell-tale sign of your breaths quickening, along with your heart beating faster against his chest.

But something’s off.

You won’t stop throwing your body around, as if you’re trying to loosen his grip around you.

If this is your way of testing his love, then he’s passing with flying colors. It only lights a fire in him, determination ablaze in his fingertips as he draws tighter circles around your clit, the roll of his hips morphing to something slower, but deeper. It’s only a matter of seconds before your body gives in to his love and affection, cries sputtering from your mouth as your muscles tense up around him.

Yuuta can’t control himself any longer with your pussy convulsing around him, his pace becoming erratic, his breathing heavier. His voice breaks, a shaky whine catches in his throat before he goes over the edge.

“Love you, love you so much,” he cries before cumming, burying himself deep inside and making sure to give you everything he has. Every twitch of his cock leads to the undeniable warmth of his seed painting your insides white.

He takes a moment to collect himself and catch his breath, but he doesn’t take himself out of you. It’s like the intensity catches up with him all at once as he collapses onto you. Even in his state of exhaustion, he finds the energy to gingerly kiss your forehead.

“We’ll be so happy together, I promise.”

[yanderenightmare]

Okkotsu Yuta

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, bullying, suicide by nameless side characters

♡ fem reader

Thinking about the mean girl curse...

Manifested through all the incel boys who both fear and hate the pretty girls who roam the school hallways and never spare them a second glance. 

You’ll appear in empty classrooms – preying on the poor loser boys who eat their lunch all alone.

You’re such a bully – looking perfect in your short school skirt with your pink lips – smacking them as you pop your bubblegum – uniform shirt a size too small with buttons undone to the midway point.

You make the poor losers cry with your harsh words and haughty laughter – goading them into buying you things in exchange for promises you never keep. Whispering all coyly that you’ll give them a kiss on the cheek, that you’ll let them touch your tits, that you’ll give them your panties – but in the end, all you do is pour your strawberry milk on their heads with a grin – before disappearing with a giggle.

You choose your victims and stay with them until you’ve pushed them over the edge – literally – until they’ve taken a swan dive off the school roof and bloodied the pavement. That’s how you feed – blowing on their ear, whispering mean little nothings until they just can’t take it anymore.

Too many incidences and Jujutsu tech is alerted of the abnormalities.

You appear sitting on a desk when Okkotsu comes looking to exorcise you. You’re sucking on a pink lollipop as you eye him and his pitiful eyes.

He had a handful of bullies like you back in his schooldays – he remembers them as clueless sluts who’d set their thugs on him for a sense of superiority. Clueless sluts –no idea how lucky they were he hadn’t set Rika loose on them all.

You remind him of them. Pretty and full of yourself. You speak as though you expect him to grovel – to throw himself down on his knees for a chance to kiss your feet.  

He doesn’t need Rika to fight his fights anymore.

You can't believe how he has you muffled with your own underwear – squealing as he rams your cunt fast and hard from the back. Bent over the desk, hair a mess with your mascara running in black streaks down your pretty face – as he wrings your wrists in two tight fists while stretching your arms behind you, using them to pull you back against the snap of his hips.

Your skirt’s a ripped mess pooled around your ankles as you shake – thighs glossed with slick and quaking as he pounds another orgasm right out of you. A sweaty mess resting with your cheek mushed against the desk in your own drool.

Meanwhile, he sucks your lollipop – far from done.

♡ OKKOTSU YUTA masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[ryukatters]

it's your fault for loving me — y. okkotsu ⁺˚⋆｡°✩

⟡ pairing: yuuta okkotsu x fem!reader

⟡ cw: /DARK CONTENT, /yandere! yuuta, /dubcon, /NONCON, ex-bf!yuuta, stalking, he breaks into your apartment, he /manhandles you (he’s strong), /implied babytrapping, /possessiveness, MINORS DNI

⟡ wc: 2.9k (someone sedate me)

⟡ song inspo: language by brent faiyaz

⟡ summary: Your ex boyfriend breaks into your apartment. What do you mean he needs to leave? He’s staying right here.

The slow, muffled drag of your feet ricochet off the hallway walls as you trudge along to your apartment. You fumble with your keys for a little bit, but find no resistance as you insert it into the slot. 

“Huh, that’s odd…I could’ve sworn I locked it.”

You chalk it up to exhaustion. You're only practically ever home to sleep due to the way you've been throwing yourself onto mission after mission. Even now, sleep is a luxury you can barely afford. You kick off your shoes lazily, not bothering putting them in their rightful place on the shoe rack. 

Maybe before, you would have cared more about keeping the house tidy. Or maybe before, your loving boyfriend would pamper and coddle you the minute you opened the front door, so you never had to worry about the little details like putting your shoes in the right place.

You were exhausted. 

You wanted nothing more than to wash up and plop down onto your soft, soft bed. You don’t even make it to your bedroom door before you pause, anxiety prickling your nerves. 

You sense him before you see him. Yuuta’s cursed energy has always had a tendency to seep out whenever he was around you. Whether it’s a testament to how he’s able to fully relax in your presence or a display of raw power, you’re not sure. 

"You're home," a certain black-haired sorcerer chirps. "How was your mission?"

In the past, simply hearing Yuuta’s voice would be enough to melt away the pent up stress from a hard day of exorcizing curses. It’d soothe your aching muscles and tired soul as you let yourself be enveloped by the weight of his affection. But right now, it did everything except that. 

The shiver of excitement that used to run down your spine is replaced by trepidation caused by the only person who used to be able to comfort you. 

You know better than to ask how he knew you were on a mission, much less ask how he managed to break into your apartment. It seems he's been in here for a while, with the way he seems to have made himself at home on your bed, much like the way he used to before. 

"Why are you here?"

The question makes him sit up. 

“Because I missed you. Is that so bad?”

You want to laugh. The whole situation is all sorts of fucked up, and the two of you are talking about it the same way one would the weather.

“Yuuta, we broke up 2 months ago,” you press, vexation lacing your words. You could never imagine yourself using that tone on him. Yuuta’s always been so meticulous in loving you, in making sure you were happy.  He’s never given you a reason to be upset with him. But that was then, and this was now. 

You could say whatever you wanted to say. You were tired and definitely not in the mood to deal with a supposed burglar that happens to be in the form of your ex-boyfriend.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he says simply.

“You walked out on me!”

“Because I thought you needed some space. And now I’m back. But I never said we were breaking up.” 

Space was an extremely generous term for what Yuuta gave you. If you could consider watching your every move from a distance, keeping tabs on who you talk to, and making sure you stay out of trouble secretly, “space.” He would never let you know that though. It’s too much, too soon.

He couldn't help it, not when his precious baby could get hurt. He’d never forgive himself if that happened.

“Come and sit, my love. You look so tired.” He pats the space next to him. You will your heart not to flutter at the familiar nickname. 

Your body moves before your brain can catch up. It’s almost like listening to him was muscle memory. You pause in your step, cross your arms, and glare at him. 

“Leave, Yuuta. I don’t want to see you.” The words rise from the very depths of your soul and spill out of your mouth like bile, burning and spiteful. It hurts to speak to him like this, even after he’d abandoned you with no hopes of return. 

“Sit, love.” A little more demanding this time. “I’m not repeating myself again.” 

The tension in the air is palpable, so thick you can cut it with a knife.

You take a seat. Yuuta doesn’t miss a beat before he has his hands on you. 

“Missed you,” his hand reaches out to cup your jaw, thumb rubbing against the plushness of your cheek. 

You’ve always been so soft, it’s one of the things Yuuta loves the most about you. 

You flinch. Blame it on the adrenaline coursing through your body like wildfire. Your fight or flight response is shot. Yuuta’s touch seems to rewrite everything that’s been hardwired into your brain. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple, before moving down to kiss the tip of your nose, and both of your cheeks. Each press of his lips leaves feels like it’s being seared into your flesh, a metaphorical branding iron of sorts— to show that you’re Yuuta’s and Yuuta’s only. 

Your mind goes blank when he sucks a kiss into the side of your neck, whimpering pathetically as he grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin. 

“We can’t do this,” you assert, but the words get stuck in your throat, so it comes out more as a whiny sigh. Your body seems to have a tendency to betray you when it comes to him.

“But we can,” Yuuta coos, pushing you down until your back is flat against the mattress. He takes both of your hands in his, lifting them up until they’re above your head, effectively pinning you in place. “We’re doing it right now, aren’t we?” 

Yuuta can appear pretty unassuming to outsiders. He’s quiet, reserved, almost meek. If one were to take a closer look, however, they’d realize that beneath that unostentatious front was a more commanding aura, one that forces you to submit to his whims with his sweet tongue and sensuous touches. Perfectly calculated, perfectly executed. 

"I fucking hate you,” you spit, thrashing against his hold, but to no avail. 

"No you don't,” Yuuta shuts you down with conviction. Like it’s the absolute truth— the kind that can’t be twisted or broken. It almost feels like he’s chastising you for thinking otherwise. “Take that back right now.”

To be honest, hearing those words stung more than any physical blow you could have ever landed on him. Has he not shown you enough love? Or have you already forgotten? 

Isn’t what you have pure love? 

A hand wraps around your neck, lithe fingers inching up before they grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him.  “I said,” blunt fingernails digging into your skin, “take it back.”

You sputter out an apology with teary eyes, an odd mix of humiliation and regret seeping into your bones, stomach swirling with shame and to your horror, a tinge of anticipation. 

It’s pathetic, really, how easily you give in. 

“Now give me a kiss, sweetheart.” Yuuta bridges the gap between the two of you. He presses his already throbbing bulge against your clothed pussy, moaning into your mouth appreciatively.

You feel so dizzy you think you might explode. 

Yuuta makes quick work of the buttons on your uniform, releasing your wrists so he can throw the offending garment and all your underthings beneath it to some random corner of the room. 

Calloused hands roam your body, squeezing and groping, as if to map out the cartography of your flesh, committing each peak and valley to memory. He watches in fascination how your skin bristles with goosebumps in the wake of his touch. 

He ignores your pleading cries and attempts to push him off. Yuuta is being driven by pure instinct alone. That sick, twisted voice in his head that he’s always tried to suppress whispers. It goads him on to take what he wants, to make sure you remember that you’re his, and his alone. 

He knows that you haven’t been seeing anyone. You were always so loyal, even when you were upset with him. Anyone who did try was taken care of the minute they left your sight. 

It’s been far too long since he’s had you. His desire fills him with a sort of quiet rage, one that metamorphoses into something darker, more sinister and morose the longer he goes without you. Almost like a curse that’s gone far too long without feeding. 

Yuuta Okkotsu loves you to the point of madness.

He thinks he might literally implode in on himself any second longer without you.

It’s almost laughable how different the two of you are. An ethereal beauty too good for this world, yet here you were in between the legs of a cursed man with too much love than he knows what to do with. 

“Yuuta, please,” you cry out. You flail your legs in an attempt to kick Yuuta off. He catches both with ease, throwing them over his shoulder to slide your bottoms off, leaving you completely bare. 

He can’t suppress the groan that tumbles past his lips. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers. 

You’re dewy eyed and gasping, nails clawing at his forearms and beating at his chest in a last ditch effort to stand your ground. Nothing can deter him. 

Yuuta could easily heal himself if he wanted to. But the angry red welts and blossoming hues of purple on his pale skin are a badge of honor of the utmost prestige. It’s undeniable proof that you’re real, that his love for you isn’t just a fragment of his imagination, and that none of this was just some pipe dream. He could take a little pain if that meant you got to be his. 

He’s always been yours without any reservations. 

“You can cry if you want, if it helps,” he says genuinely, but the gleam in his eyes shifts into something predatory. “But you should know you’re really fucking wet.” As if to prove a point, he slowly fucks his middle finger into your weeping hole, then his index, then his ring. They curl up to rub against that spongy spot just the way you like. 

You let out a sharp gasp, spine arching off the mattress. 

You tried to ignore him—detach yourself from the whole situation, let him get his fill, and be done with this whole ordeal. But it’s Yuuta— the man has a grasp on both the corporal and spiritual parts of you that you can’t bring yourself to understand. It seems like he knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. And right now, he’s managed to make a home in all five of your senses. There’s no escape. He's made sure of that. 

He pulls out his fingers with a lewd squelch. A clear sheen of liquid coats every digit, stringy as he parts them to show you. He smiles knowingly.

“You keep fighting me, but it turns out you want it after all, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks burn in humiliation. Whether it’s from the situation at hand or the truth behind his words, you’re not too sure. 

“Don’t you know?” Yuuta rasps, fingers going back to work their way inside you rhythmically, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice, paying special attention to how you try to mask how your face contorts in pleasure. 

He presses his forehead against yours, willing you to look at him wordlessly. “I know what’s best for you. I know what you want. And right now, this little pussy wants to be fucked. Isn’t that right, my love?” 

He’s met with a breathless moan. You’re so close. Tears threaten to fall as your chest heaves in exertion, trying not to teeter off the edge too soon. 

You look so pathetic it’s insane. Yuuta swears he can feel his mouth water in anticipation for what’s bound to come next. He thrusts his fingers with calculating speed and precision, the heel of his palm slapping against your neglected clit just right. 

He leans down right when you cum, lips catching yours as you moan into his mouth. Satisfaction swells in his chest as your slick drips down his wrist. 

“You’re ready.” 

Yuuta unbuttons his pants, pulling it down just enough for his cock to spring free, tip slapping his abdomen as it leaks with precum. He fists it, jerking his hand up and down his length. He slaps it against your clit once, twice, and a third time before he slips it inside your weeping hole. 

Your walls spasm around his cock to accommodate his sheer size and girth, struggling a bit more than usual. You feel so full. It’s been far too long since he’s fucked you. You claw at his lower abdomen, trying to make space between the two of you. It’s all too much, all at once. Yuuta won’t have it. He slips his hands under your sweaty thighs, pinning your ankles on either side of your head, effectively folding you in half. You cry out at the stretch.

“Always take me so well, angel.” 

He sets a steady pace, dragging his cock in, pulling out, and then back in with an absurd amount of force. The sound of skin on skin ricochets against your bedroom walls like a sort of cacophonous symphony. You don’t get the luxury of the sweet, slow thrusts he usually blesses you with, while he coos about how good you are for him. 

“Where’s all that attitude from earlier? Am I making you feel that good?” 

You glower, refusing to acknowledge the fact that your body betrays your mind— that Yuuta’s bringing you closer and closer to nirvana the further he drags you down into hell. 

He slides his hand down your tummy, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Yuuta—!” You clench around his length, hurtling towards your second orgasm quickly. 

“You’re so greedy. Cumming again already?” 

He’s met with silence. He’ll forgive your transgressions this time around. He’ll just have to teach you how to be his good girl again. 

A particularly rough thrust has you choking back a moan.

“Thought so. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Your peak hits you like a crashing wave. Your body tenses, leaving you gasping for air as you clench around Yuuta’s cock. You cry out deliriously, falling apart as Yuuta continues to pound into you. It’s too much, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. You’re stuck.

“I’m the only one that can make you feel this way, understand?” He grits his teeth, staving off his release just a little longer. He fucks you through your orgasm thoroughly as he chases his own. 

He presses all of his body weight on top of you, your legs on either side of his head as he folds you into a mating press. He groans at the change in position, allowing him to fuck into you even deeper. 

Realization cuts through your cloudy judgment like a sword. 

“Yuuta— Yuuta, please. Pull out–!” 

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. He’s rambling now, intoxicated by all you have to offer, yet you’re the one paying the price. The effects of overstimulation are taking over now, your body twitching involuntarily with each thrust. 

“I’m not leaving you, ever. It’s just you and me.” 

You shake your head in objection, mind too hazy to voice out any resistance. Tears well up, threatening to spill from your lash line. 

Yuuta nods with a grin, canines glinting, just like a predator that’s caught its prey. “It’s true, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it. Say I’m it for you. That I’m the only one.” 

“Say it.” 

“You’re it for me, Yu. The only one.” You babble, tears streaming freely now. 

You feel the moment he reaches his plateau— the way his dick twitches inside of you right before your walls are being painted white with splashes of Yuuta’s hot cum. 

Your fate’s been sealed. 

He fucks into you a few more times, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he rides out his orgasm. A white ring wraps around the base of his cock, the copious amounts of seed he’s poured into you threatening to leak out. 

Yuuta doesn’t bother pulling out. In a quick show of dexterity and freak strength, he manages to flip the both of you so that your positions are switched, with you lying on top of Yuuta’s chest. The steady beat of his heart fills your mind. 

Your entire body is on fire. You feel numb. You let yourself be carried away by the prospect of sleep, hoping that you’ll wake up to find that this was all just some wild fragment of your imagination.  

He presses a hand against your head, like he was afraid you’d pull away and ruin whatever fantasy he’s deluded himself into believing. 

The simple truth is– Yuuta Okkotsu loves you. And he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that no one else gets in the way of that. 

He runs his hand up and down your bare back lovingly, admiring your spent form. You’ve always been so soft. So pliant, so willing to give in to his desires. 

It’s the thing that Yuuta loves most about you. 

a/n: i had to reupload bc this hellsite sucks. hopefully this shows up in the tags now

tagging @princess-okkotsu again hehe

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Yandere JJK - Yuta Okkotsu

When you leave for a month long mission without telling your close friend and maybe crush, Yuuta. You come back and he’s cracked. 

It’d been two months since you left on a mission, only now being able to return back to Japan. When you arrived home to your shared apartment, you had expected a warm welcome from your kind and courteous friend, Yuuta. You imagined he’d tell you, “Welcome home,” ask how your trip was, and offer to make dinner like he usually did on days he felt adventurous enough to cook. The two of you lived pretty harmoniously together, both being capable sorcerers with similar demeanors and all.

What you didn’t expect was to be shoved against the wall of the flat’s narrow hallway kabedon style, body pressed flush against your roommate’s, who had a look on his face like he hadn’t been sleeping for weeks and just found out the cure to his insomnia was something ridiculously simple, bordering on relief and hysteria. 

“Where. Have you been.” He practically growled, your heart beating at an odd pace since he was barely an inch away from your face.

“Uhnn, on a mission. But great news-I’m back home and won’t be working for a bit, aha?” You broke eye contact, unable to withstand the cold intensity of his dark eyes. 

“And you left without telling me? Without telling anyone?” 

“Well, to be fair it was a secret mission! It wasn’t to be disclosed and even then I knew it’d only make you worry and you’d probably end up trying to tag along somehow. I didn’t want to distract you from your work, Yu.”

Your explanation didn’t do much to help calm his nerves. You could tell he was obviously worked up, he was breathing hard, his arms were shaking, and his newfound grip on your shoulders was soul crushing. You knew your friend was strong, but the fact that you couldn’t move at all from your position was impressive. 

“So you just up and left? That’s not fair,” His languid voice spoke with quiet rage. He was never one to raise his voice, not even now. “You don’t get to decide that. What if you had died? What if something happened and nobody from home knew anything about it? Would you be okay with leaving everyone behind? Leaving me?” 

“No…I mean…I wouldn’t want that. I mean hey, I’m here! We’re good now, right? I’m fine! We’re fine.” You said this last part with no confidence, “…Are we?”

Yuuta took a step back, staring at the wall next to you because he couldn’t stand to look at you. “No. We’re not.” 

He let you go, moving to turn back to his room. You grabbed his shoulder. “Hey-wait! I know you’re upset. I would be too. But please, don’t ignore me. I was so lonely on my own, now that I’m back I…well, is it too selfish to say I want you by my side? I missed you a lot.” Your abandonment issues were about to be the death of you.

“You trampled on my feelings, completely disregarding how I’d feel, and now you want pity?”

You deflated. “No. Just. I just want you. I’m sorry for hurting you, Yuta. I didn’t mean it, really.”

A minute of silence passed you both. You felt like you were about to cry. You sniffled. “I really am sorry.” 

He stared at the ground, muttering a soft curse before looking back at you, slowly opening his arms. He sighed. “I can never stay mad at you. I missed you too. C’mere.” 

And you nearly leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. His scowl broke, turning into an ever so slight smile. 

Coming home wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

You thought the two of you were cool and were about to offer to order take-out when he threw you over his shoulder, went to his room, and threw you on the bed, locking the door promptly behind him. 

“Uhhhh, Yuuta?” You asked. “Watcha doing?”

He chuckled darkly. “You confessed to me before your mission, right? And then you bolted before I could even respond. Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think about how I should reply in the past months you were gone. And this is my response.”

Your face grew red. How could you have forgotten about that? 

He crawled on the bed after you, leering over you like a tiger would its prey. 

“I love you. More than anything in the world. And when I noticed you left and had no idea when you’d be back, or if you’d come back at all? I thought I’d go crazy. It took everything in me to not kill the elites that ordered you on the mission and drag you back home myself.” He had you caged between his arms again, voice dropping to something thick and heavy at his next words, “I decided that when you came back, if you ever came back, I wouldn’t let you go anymore. I want you by my side forever. And even then forever’s no where near enough.”

“Quite the romantic, are you big guy?”

He smirked at that. “I’ve had enough time to study up on the type of guys you like.” You shivered when you felt his lips glide across your neck, a rough hand slowly sneaking up your stomach, beneath your clothes. 

“You’re mine tonight. And forever.”

Tonight was going to be a loooooooong night. 

[tbko111]

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

⊱ contents: yuta x fem reader, smut, noncon/dubcon, yandere, delusion, obsession, masturbation, stalking, virginity loss, mind break, creampie, manipulation, ⊱ wc: 2.6k ⊱ synopsis: There was just something about your friend Yuta that slowly urged you to let your guard down. Maybe it was his gentle nature, or his softspoken voice. Either way, you trusted him into your dorm room.

Yuta has spent years of his life shying away from intimacy. Inevitably he has masturbated at times, but was never big on it. Once he entered high school – festering with amorous teenagers, he still didn’t give it much mind.

That was until he met you.

It started off small. Being quiet, people would find you hard to approach, but Yuta felt otherwise.

"You dropped this." you muttered, holding out an eraser. Yuta blinked for a moment, surprised to hear your voice for the first time. It was like honey – easy on the ears. It even made him wonder why you don’t talk more.

"Oh, thank you." he smiled.

You awkwardly smiled back. It was his first time getting a clear look at you, and he thought about it for the rest of the day. He only thought you were kind of pretty, nothing more. Or so he told himself; he was too convinced he wouldn't find love again.

But the two of you surprisingly shared a lot in common, easing into conversations over time. It started as a normal friendship, but love waits for no one, and he couldn't help but start to admire your every detail. Your every move, every habit, every word… so thoughtful and reserved. It was tantalizing. Only to this point you felt similarly, thinking he was intimidating at first but putting your guard down at his unexpectedly sweet and sensitive personality.

It was spring, just the right amount of breezy and students abustle over the romance in the air. You had known Yuta for quite some time now, being comfortable enough to give gifts - albeit not too forward.

After school, you remain seated as your classmates race eachother to the exit. Yuta takes note of this and stays back as well.

"Are you not going?"

You fidget, then reach into your bag.

"Here, you can have this." you held out a small box of cookies. Adorned with small flowers to complement the season. He stared for a moment before accepting it.

"You remembered my birthday?" Yuta beamed, touched. 

"Um... I just made too much yesterday." you chuckle, not daring to make eye contact. But he knew it was no coincidence. It was singlehandedly the best cookies he's had in his life, and he later lost sleep recalling your abashed face.

The more he got to know you, the stronger his feelings got. He wanted to know more. To feel more. You would only offer small joking pokes, or touch him accidentally which were always followed by apologies. He would calm his beating heart secretly wishing you wouldn't pull back all the time.

In the dead of summer, the two of you sat in front of a convenience store. Licking your ice cream carefully, you looked to the side to see Yuta blush and turn away. You suddenly grow embarrassed of the display, and cover your mouth.

"You want some too? I have change." you glance at him gingerly, trying to ease the air.

"What? Oh. No, I'm fine." Yuta lets air in through his collar, quickly looking away again. Something tells you he's not this worked up from the weather.

That night he touched himself for the first time in ages.

"Hahh... Y/n... Y/n... Y/n..." 

Yuta mumbles to himself, twitching at his own touch. He rubs his length up and down with thoughts of you playing in his head like a movie. Your gaze, your voice, your everything, how you'd look so pretty with your lips wrapped around his cock, and how you'd look when he finally gets to fuck you and see your face melt into a pleasured mess, all for him.

"Fuck..." he inhales, climaxing at the thought.

Eventually, unable to get his mind off of you, he would steal small belongings as mementos of you, even touching himself with your handkerchief. It felt like a crime. This is wrong. I'm sick. He tried to tell himself, but as if in withdrawal from a drug, he'd cave into ogling you at every chance. No girl has made him feel this way before.

Pleasure finally overtook his guilt over fantasizing such vile things. He'd follow you at night "Just to make sure you're safe", and always keep an eye on you. He didn't have to worry about seeming creepy to you; he was all too good at putting up a front. To the point you only ever saw him as a kind friend, nothing more.

You've grown a soft spot for him and he didn't mind taking advantage of it. Yuta had always been nothing short of generous, but even he had his limits. Especially when it came to such an insatiable need.

By the time you trusted him, your every kind gesture became an indicator that you must like him back, justifying everything under that pretense.

It was winter before you knew it – roughly a year since you've met Yuta. You offered to do homework at your dorm room, and his pulse nearly stopped at the suggestion. He tried to sound casual, agreeing a little too quick.

"Come in, there's not much to see, but..." you welcome him in, taking off your shoes. He breathes in, almost going lightheaded from how your scent surrounds him.

You take off your coat, then your school blazer, the dress shirt framing your figure with more definition making him gulp and turn away.

Unloading your things and settling down, you help eachother with questions within the warmth of your room. There's about an hour of silent working – though it takes everything in Yuta to focus, until you stretch and groan complaining about the workload. One joke here and there turns into full procrastination as the two of you laugh quietly at trivial conversations.

At one point, you gently slap him on the arm, snapping what remained of his self-restraint. The giggles die down, and coming to your senses you find Yuta eyeing you shyly.

"Y/n..."

"Hm?"

The room is falling dark. You hadn't bothered to turn on the lights, and the daylight was beginning to fade away.

He leans in, making you pull away just slightly. But he won't let you do that this time. You were so cute that rational thought was flying out the window. All he knew was that you both wanted this.

He swallows, then snakes his hand up the back of your head, leaning in until your lips meet. For a moment you’re resistless, frozen in shock. Soon you’re quick to push him away, feeling your face burning up.

“Wait, Yuta, I didn't know y-”

Yuta finds your shocked face cute, but soon grows impatient and coaxes you back with a groan. He might just die if he keeps his hands off for any longer.

"If you really don’t want it, you can bite my tongue." he breathes, not even giving you room to respond. He knows you wouldn't, anyway.

He starts off with a small kiss. Running one hand down your arm with the other caressing the side of your head. You gasp, allowing him to slide his tongue in – desperate to taste you. The wet sounds make your head reel, but of course you don't bite. Despite being reluctant, you can't bring yourself to hurt him. You only groan softly, and feel Yuta purr into you like he’s in heaven.

He keeps you in place with an alarming amount of authority. The kiss grows hot and sloppy. It’s hard to think as he lifts you with surprising ease and lays you on your bed - conveniently close to your floor desk due to lack of space. He finds his way atop of you, one knee resting comfortably between your legs. You try to push away for air, and he lets you, only to start kissing your neck and down.

“Ah… Yuta, what-” your voice wobbles.

He shifts to loom over you completely, breathing erratic and needy. He continues to leave marks, feeling your body as if dying to memorize it by touch. Despite every alarm in your head going off, you don't want to believe that Yuta is a threat.

The affirmation is cut short when you jolt at the feeling of him unbuttoning your top.

“W- Wait!”

Yuta had held back for too long. He's been nothing but good to you. He deserved this – you deserved this. Having none of you was endurable, but just a taste was never going to be enough. All he got from your protests was that you were just shy. How cute.

“I’m sorry, I need you. I’ll make you feel good, I promise…” he’s murmuring, telling himself that more than anything.

He opens your shirt delicately, revealing your bra, and your arms fly up to cover yourself.

He steadily casts them aside to awe at your figure. His gaze lingers for uncomfortably long with bated breath.

“You’re so…” he trails off, lovestruck.

Your eyes meet his, and you can't help but look away. You've never let anyone see you so vulnerable before. He dips his head down to continue tasting your neck, and you feel him fumble to remove your bra. You tug at his clothes in place of asking him to stop, but it only tempts him more.

He finally removes it and puts it aside, shaking slightly at the sensation of your bare breast. Starting off with just his fingertips, he grows greedy and kneads them, carefully, as if you’re made out of glass. He’s nice as always – misleadingly so. You groan and pull your legs together as he teases your nipple, and grabbing his wrist with your weakened arms proves useless. 

His hand travels down your body, each touch torturously tender.

A finger hooks on your now semi-unzipped skirt and stockings, undressing you like you're a precious gift. Yuta timidly runs his fingers over your panties, a grin creeping on his face at the dampness.

You feel your heart drop as you sense him undoing his pants. You look down with wide eyes to see him pull out his length. Being inexperienced, just the thought of that entering sent a foreboding chill down your spine.

“No...” You're too scared to even raise your voice.

Yuta sighs shakily, face flushed.

“Stop being such a tease. You’re killing me…”

His rough yet pretty hand pulls down your garments slowly, making you attempt to draw your thighs together at the sudden airflow.

He lines himself up to your entrance, and you curse yourself for being wet. You try to shrink back, but gasp when he holds you by the waist, lifting you slightly for better access. His tip pokes your slit, making you shudder and stifle a sob. Even now, you can’t bring yourself to slap him, or scream.

Yuta isn’t a bad person.

You shake your head, hands firm on his arms to no avail.

He marvels at the sight, in a trance.

“I’ll be gentle.”

“No, Yuta, don’t-!”

You cut yourself off with a guttural shriek as he forces himself in, inch by inch. You gasp for air as you claw at your sheets fruitlessly.

He takes a moment to settle, groaning as your muscles contract frantically.

“Ahh… oh, god, you feel even better than I thought…” Yuta tilts his head back, screwing his eyes shut in bliss.

To your dismay his cock goes even deeper, until you can feel him in your stomach. You gasp for air, moaning pathetically as every nerve screams for help.

"Mngh, no, i- it hurts-"

Yuta groans, getting even more turned on.

The pretty sight of you twitching around him alone threatened to make him cum right then and there.

"It's okay. I'll go slow..."

He starts moving, painstakingly slow. Somehow, him being so gentle is worse than being forceful. You’re left with no choice but to fully suffer through every little sensation.

Even as he goes at a leisurely pace, you can't help but fight back tears. It's also torturous for him, but for different reasons. He cares about you too much to fuck you as brutally as he'd like.

There are only timid movements for a long while, until he gradually picks up speed, and your legs are on the verge of giving up already.

"You're so pretty." He mumbles.

You cover your face, unable to answer. Your lip is bitten to suppress shameful noises, but the crude fill in your stomach makes your jaw weaken.

Your mouth hangs open, and soon the room fills with lewd noises as he continues to shower you with affection. He babbles barely coherent compliments, kissing your neck. He winces slightly at your tightness, clenching around him with all your life.

“Relax for me.”

You sputter into your arms. You're a moaning, flinchy mess and your legs shake like a leaf as he loses himself in you – slowly going faster and harder.

"...Let me see your face."

You groan, unrelenting, but the way his eyes bore into you has you complying meekly. He leers, pleased with the display.

"Look at you… you love me. You take me so well."

His familiar smile almost convinces you that nothing is wrong.

"Say it. I wanna hear it from you."

He bucks his hips in deep, going almost fully in and out, earning violent twitches followed by helpless moans. It's music to his ears.

As you very slowly ease into the feeling, what remained of your fighting spirit diminishes as his cock fills you just too right, involuntarily arching your back. Your sounds grow more harmonic as euphoria washes over your body.

He whispers breathily, pleading so weakly in spite of the power he has over you.

"Please?"

"I love you..." you drawl, barely words at all. Your once pained face is now melted in pleasure; pupils blown and eyes barely open.

Yuta smiles, sickly sweet.

"Good girl, I love you too. I love you so much. I'm yours..."

His dark eyes make you shudder as he looks at you - looking almost coy as if having his nervous first kiss and not fucking you into your own bed. You feel high as he continues to thrust into you using your waist as a handle. His kind voice and affectionate teasing with his thumbs contrasts all else.

Feeling every sense overstimulate, sinful moans freely escaping your mouth, you weakly reach out to hold him.

"Ahh, Yu..."

“You feel so good, I- fuck,”

Yuta curses under his breath – you never even thought he was capable. But neither did you of this whole situation.

You're no longer in control of what kind of vulgar face you may make. You feel burning ecstasy build up inside, until you’re dangerously close.

"Mngh- Yuta...! I can't, I..."

"Shh, I got you." 

His sweet voice hypnotizes you to relax, not even letting you register the gravity of him cumming inside. His breath hitches harshly and the grip on your waist tightens, as if to say you're not going anywhere.

Your eyes roll back, feeling him paint your walls white. You feel his cock so clearly, you're convinced you've memorized its shape. Your body shudders in pleasure and in that moment, you truly are convinced he's the love of your life.

“Ah… mmn… ugh,”

You lay twitching in place, small moans emitting as you breathe. You can hardly even remember where you are.

He stays inside for moments longer, savoring the moment. You tighten instinctively as he pulls out slowly with a cute smile plastered on his face.

“You’re amazing.'' He's breathless, either from the sex or breathtaken by you alone. He kisses you, stroking your hair lovingly.

And you can’t help but kiss back.

♡ ao3