#yutae fic

[sqtorux]

twisted discipline?

# their reactions when some random guy dares to lay his hand on you in public

## incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji and yuta

+ (replaced sukuna with yuta because we all know kuna would kill the guy on the spot and also bc i love ruthless borderline yandere behind your back yuta <3)

[sugurizz]

(Smut/ NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ── lover boy! Yuuta

Beach Boy! Yuuta who's playing handball with his friends. His soft dark locks and slender body caught your eye; running around shirtless as his tall frame prances around left and right. with his shiny lips curled up in a smile and his bubbly laughs resonating through the breeze.

Beach Boy! Yuuta who gets so shy when he sees that his ball landed next to you; the cute girl he's been eyeing up throughout the whole game. your sparkly asscheeks barely covered in your bikini strings and your breasts flushed against the warm sand really sent his brain spiralling.

He shyly grabs the ball as he approaches you, asks you if you'd care to join in. Then he furiously blushes when you redirect the question at him "Why don't you come chill under my parasol instead?"

Beach Boy! Yuuta who's hoping your parasol is large enough to cover up on both of you. you're straddeling his lap, messing up his hair and telling him that "he's the cutest boy you saw in the whole beach" as you plant kisses everywhere on his cheeks, chest, neck and lips. You giggle at every flustered whine he lets, until he grabs your hand, asking you to follow him...

Beach Boy! Yuuta who's eating your ass in his little cabin, smothering his face in your tender skin and drowning himself in the milky scent of your pussy. his blushy cheeks, cute eyebags and adorable noises make your pussy wetter for him.

Beach Boy! Yuuta who (un)surprisingly under his cute aura and puppy eyes hides the thickest cock that dangles alongside his left thigh..

"Oh, sorry...is it too b-big?" he mumbles when you tug down on his boxers, his veiny length springs free, almost slaps your cheek as it stands proud against his stomach.

Beach Boy! Yuuta who's now humping you like a bunny in heat. heavy breathes and frustrated sighs escape his pretty lips. face is still soaked in your sweet juices but he could care less..

"You sure you can take me?...don't wanna see you in pain".

"I'd die for your big cock, handsome angel." you whisper, grabbing his mushroon tip and smearing it across your pussy lips.

Beach Boy! Yuuta who's now into demon mode, the sweetness and shyness are long gone with his schlong bullying your pussy senseless. He groans over and over in your ear "you'll be my cute girlfriend...we'll feel good together..every day..."

Beach Boy! Yuuta who watches you with blown dark pupils as you squirt all over his stomach, fevereshly crying out a "Yess daddy.. I'm all yours! Make me yours!.."

Beach Boy! Yuuta who's so embarassed to see his thick cum spurt uncontrollably out his tip because of how hard you squirted on him.

"Sorry, I cum a lot...I'll bring a-"

He stares at you as you collect the ropes of seed he freshly spurted on your breasts, slowly lift your fingers then smear them on your tongue as you lock eyes with him.

"Come kiss me, Yuuta..."

Beach Boy! Yuuta who's shamelessly snowballing with you, making the loudest sloppiest sounds with his own cum bubbling on both your lips and dribbling down your chins. "One more round, angel boy?" You smirk as he struggles to hide his cute boner again...

[viasdreams]

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖

nct 127 boyfriend texts !!

a/n: happy belated 127 day!! dont look at the header for too long plz😬

[heyimkana]

Currently thinking about... how break-up sex would go with JJK men...

Like what if, even though you're both so in love with each other, the situation you're in right now forces you to break up with them. They'll try to fight about it, of course, you're crazy about each other, after all. But you insist on breaking up, even going as far as to tell them that you don't love them anymore just so they'll believe you. And before you say goodbye, you ask them to hold you one last time.

Satoru would be quiet. Sex was always fun with him. rough, fast, exhausting, but never boring. Sex with him was always filled with laughter, giggles, and playful kisses that would end with gasps and moans but your last time with him would be quiet. So quiet, in fact, that you could probably hear the sound of him gritting his teeth while he was fucking you from behind, all because he was trying to stop himself from saying, "This is a joke. This must be a joke. We play tricks on each other all the time. You're just trying to get back at me, aren't you, baby? There's no way you don't love me anymore. But even if you do, I don't care. I had let someone go a long time ago and I'd spent years of my life regretting it. I'm not letting you go, not now, not ever. You're staying. No, I'll make you stay." He wouldn't look at you when he fucked you, not once, as he was actually scared that you truly hated him then. But it wouldn't matter if you did. He was never going to let you go.

Suguru would listen with his stoic face intact when you told him that you wanted to break up with him. And softly, he'd ask you why, and you'd lie and tell him that you just didn't love him anymore and his eyes would turn cold as he looked at you, trying to read between your lies and you were scared that he'd know the truth. And if you told him that you wanted him to hold you one last time, he would smile and say, "Sure." but it felt so eerie that you had goosebumps breaking on your skin. Suguru would drag you out of the bed, tear open your dress and his grip was hard enough to leave bruises on your skin but he would still be smiling, even when you flinched in pain. "You like it better like this anyway, right?" he'd say as he fucked you standing up from behind with his fingers wrapped around your neck. He'd have you stand in front of a mirror, making sure to see the pathetic face you made every time he fucked you stupid. He'd show you that you were his in every way possible, making sure you understand that you were going to fucking regret it if you decided to leave him.

Yuuji would be so confused. He'd be confused when you kissed him after you said you didn't love him anymore. He'd be confused when you still hugged him afterward, and kissed his neck, and tugged onto his shirt before you pulled it over his head. He'd be confused when you asked him to hold you one last time, and he wouldn't say anything when you pushed him down to the bed. It was only when you sat on his lap, trying to slide his cock inside that he'd stop you. "No, wait, I can't do it," he would say, unable to look at you because suddenly, tears started to brim in his eyes. "If you're going to leave me after we're done, I can't do it. I love you. I don't know why you suddenly changed your mind about me, but I'm still in love with you and I don't think I can love anyone else but you. You'll break me if you do this, so please..." His voice would break and he would hug you close, his chin placed on your shoulder, his voice, sketched with the tears he was trying to hold back, reverberating right in your ear. "Please stop and tell me. I'm an idiot so I'm very slow at figuring things out and I don't know if I hurt you and I'm sorry but... I want to understand... Why...? Why are you leaving me? Am I... not enough for you?"

Megumi would not do it. He wouldn't kiss you. He wouldn't touch you. He'd only clench his jaw and ball his fingers into fists the second the words "I don't love you anymore" flowed past your lips. And when you tried to kiss him, he'd take a step back, his voice deep when he asked you, "Have I done something wrong?" You'd shake your head no, saying "It's not because of you, Megumi. It's me—" and he'd cut you off with a "Don't give me that bullshit." He'd raise his voice, but only because he was shaking inside. "If that's true, then tell me what it is! Whatever you did, I'll forgive you. If it's a part of you that you think is the problem, I'll accept it. If it's the situation we're in, let me know so I can fix it. Don't just show up and tell me you don't love me anymore, don't—" he took a breath, his voice breaking at the end. His face would twist in heartbreak when he finally gathered the strength to look at you in the eyes. His voice would soften when he continued, "Don't tell me you're leaving me. Please."

Yuuta would feel a thousand emotions at once. For the first few minutes when you told him you didn't love him anymore, he'd keep asking you, "Why? Was it something I said? What did I do wrong? How can I make this right? Please. Tell me. Tell me so I can fix everything." And you'd see tears glazing his eyes and he would look so frightened, so heartbroken, unable to believe that the love of his life was slipping out of his fingers. When you told him, "It doesn't matter, Yuu. I just can't do this anymore." Yuuta would panic, colors leaving his face and he'd start begging, "No, please, you can't leave me. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're my everything, please don't do this to me, please tell me how to make things right," and it was breaking your heart seeing him like this so you'd try to distract him by kissing him.

He'd whimper against your mouth, cupping your face with both hands, still whispering, "Don't leave me" again and again. He'd slowly regain his composure, his body melting under your kiss and when you started touching him, he'd respond with as much passion, love, and desire as he usually offered you, not knowing that it was going to be his last time with you. It was only when he was holding you in his arms, your legs tangled around his waist, his mouth slicked with your cum, his hips thrusting slow but deep, that you told him the truth, "This is going to be our last time."

Yuuta would freeze, his eyes turning round in both surprise and horror, but after that... You'd find your body folded in half, your head trapped between your knees, your jaw hanging low on your face, unable to even scream his name as he was fucking the breath out of you. His usually delicate moans would turn into heavy grunts, and he'd bunch the sheets under his fingers before he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the bed, holding them with one hand as he used his other one to grip firmly onto the back of your thigh, pushing you up even further so he could bury himself deep inside you.

"You're not leaving me," he'd breathe out. "I won't let you. We promised each other we'd be together until we die. I won't let you break it." He'd kiss you, rough and messy, smothering you with it. He'd see a hint of fear written in your eyes, maybe you'd even cry a little from how rough he was being with you, but he'd kiss the tears away, his smile looking both beautiful and terrifying when he said, "Don't worry, Sweetheart. There's nothing to be afraid of. No one will love you better than me, I promise you. And if anyone dares to come between us," he'd angle your face to the side, lick a stripe up your neck before he let his smile graze your ear.

"I'll fucking kill them."

[hinamie]

hi!! I love your art and the jjk atla au has grabbed my brain in Ways That I Cannot Explain. i love them sm. also ty for the inuokko promise, bc trust they are my favorite ship ever (sorry itafushi, you guys are second place). i wish you well in the process and hope that everything goes smoothly for you!!!!

!!! thank u so much I'm happy u like my art and our little passion project <3 <3 <3

also. hm . inuokko u say :>

pov u look up and u see this ^

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[niki-phoria]

떠오른 달 그 위로 / 이 밤을 날아 crazy over you

megumi, yuuji, yuuta, and toge boyfriend headcannons!

notes: gn!reader (no pronouns specified), 400ish words each, part two of my ramblings with @ffinnamon, this is not proofread please forgive any mistakes lmao, 圣诞快乐！happy holidays everyone :)), title from enhypen - moonstruck

━━ boyfriend!megumi who doesn’t confess to you - gojo does. it only takes one offhand comment from your teacher as he scrolls through his phone, snickering to himself when you begin sprinting towards the dorms

━━ boyfriend!megumi who smiles softly when you confess. your words jumble together as you rush to tell him that you like him too. you only stop when he softly chuckles, quietly reminding you to calm down and take a breath. he hopes that his flushed cheeks don’t look as red as they feel as he clings to the remains of his nonchalant reputation

━━ boyfriend!megumi who always carries a digital camera in his pocket. you rarely notice, but he pulls it out at random, taking a few moments to snap candid photos of his favourite moments: when you kneel down to pet a stray cat wandering through the streets of kyoto; how bright your smile is when you beat yuuji in a sparring match; snowflakes decorate your hair on winter days when you drag him outside for a walk despite the cold

━━ boyfriend!megumi who kisses you first. it’s another moment where your beauty shines through despite the world around you. he’s always worried - always on alert for another curse or waiting for a sign of danger. but your touch sends shivers racing down his spine. your smile is outshines the sun. and when your lips meet his own, the weight of the world doesn’t feel so heavy anymore

━━ boyfriend!megumi whose friends are constantly teasing him. yuuji has enough grace to bite his tongue when he realizes the implication of his words, but nobara kicks him beneath the table when he rolls his eyes, swearing, “we’re just trying to help!”

━━ boyfriend!megumi who lets you take care of him. he sighs as you tuck the blankets snugly around his body, forcing him to lay down and stay in his dorm. he swears your fussing is annoying, but you meet no resistance when you force him to lay down, complete with a new box of tissues and a full water bottle by his side. “get some rest, megumi,” you say as you tug his curtains closed. “you can’t exercise any curses unless you’re feeling healthy”

━━ boyfriend!megumi who opens up to you. his shoulder just barely brushes against yours as he moves to sit beside you. he doesn’t move away when you reach over, gingerly taking his hand into your own. your fingertips stroke against the bruises decorating his knuckles when he quietly speaks. “i had a sister,” he begins. “her name was tsumiki”

━━ boyfriend!yuuji who doesn’t have any experience with dating and never wanted to. he had never paid attention to gossip from his peers. he lives life in the moment, too caught up with the experiences of right now to worry about labels

━━ boyfriend!yuuji who sheepishly smiles when you ask him what your relationship status is. he casually shrugs as he turns to face you, washing your worries away easily. “honestly i’m not sure.” he shoves his hands into his pockets. “but i like you. a lot”

━━ boyfriend!yuuji who loves to watch movies with you. he curls up against your side, his arm thrown lazily around your waist and his legs half entangled with yours. he smiles brightly when he leans upwards just enough to press a chaste kiss against the skin of your cheek. “i bet you’ll love this one,” he says

━━ boyfriend!yuuji whose dates are almost always impulsive. he’s never been good at planning. outings consist of him excitedly tugging on your wrist as he leads you in the direction of a new sushi restaurant he hadn’t noticed before or closing his eyes and pointing to a poster to pick which movie you’ll watch

━━ boyfriend!yuuji who kisses you first. his hands clumsily rest on your shoulders, awkwardly holding you close. his lips feel chapped against your own. the kiss itself is short and a little messy. admittedly, he’s never done this before. but he makes up for it when he leans in again, this time slower, and all but melts into the comforting feeling of your touch

━━ boyfriend!yuuji who acts impulsively. he charges headfirst into danger with no regard for personal safety, focused only on saving everyone around him. his hands are littered in bruises and his uniform is soaked in blood, but none of that matters when he’s standing in front of you, still breathing. “i’m sorry,” he whispers. “i’ll be more careful. i promise”

━━ boyfriend!yuuji who brings you to his grandfather’s grave. the soles of your shoes sink into the muddy earth. you silently watch as he carefully places a small bouquet of flowers beside the headstone, whispering a few words beneath his breath

━━ boyfriend!yuuji who snores. loudly. it’s almost impossible to sleep beside him because he’s so loud. his body sprawls across the provided twin sized mattress like a starfish; his legs threaten to fall off of the bed. you chuckle softly at the sight as you lean down. he doesn’t even stir when you brush a few stray strands of hair away from his face. “good night, yuuji”

━━ boyfriend!yuuta who is oblivious to his feelings at first. he annoys all his friends with his rambling about you and your small habits. toge sighs when he derails the walk home to buy a keychain for a movie you like or to buy you a snack from a nearby vending machine. despite everything, he doesn’t realize how deep his feelings really are until maki swats at his shoulder, huffing as she rolls her eyes. “you have a crush, dumbass”

━━ boyfriend!yuuta who confesses with a bouquet of flowers and a sweet love letter. he anxiously fidgets with his hands as you accept the gift, waiting with his heart in his throat and butterflies in his stomach as he waits for your reaction. life seems to pause until you pull him into a tight hug, whispering a soft, “i’d love to go on a date with you”

━━ boyfriend!yuuta who refuses to let you walk home alone. he intertwines his fingers with your own as you move side-by-side down the small sidewalk. your quiet reassurances that he doesn’t have to join you all the way home are silenced when he gives your hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “but i want to,” he smiles

━━ boyfriend!yuuta who calls you everyday when he’s away. even if he has to wake up in the middle of the night, he makes sure you both talk at least once a day. your conversations can last for hours as you talk about anything that comes to mind

━━ boyfriend!yuuta who is constantly worried about your well-being. he constantly fusses over you: he all but forces a pair of thick wool gloves over your hands in the winter; he insists you visit shoko after every mission; at even the smallest signs you’re catching a cold he begs gojo to cancel your missions and makes you soup

━━ boyfriend!yuuta who wants to kiss you so badly but always chickens out at the last second. it’s embarrassing, really, how he gets so nervous around you. his face flushes a deep shade of red and his hands shake at his sides as he curls his fingers into fists in the hopes that you won’t notice his nerves

━━ boyfriend!yuuta who clings to you every time you kiss him. his hands rest gingerly against your cheeks or fist tightly into the fabric of your sweater - anything to keep you close to him. his eyes flutter shut as he melts into you; he’s never the first to pull away

━━ boyfriend!toge who confesses with a handwritten note and a bag of your favourite snacks. he awkwardly stares at the dirt covering his shoes as you read it. his handwriting is a little messy and the ink is smudged in a few places, but you accept it with a bright smile nonetheless

━━ boyfriend!toge who laughs loudly when you kiss him for the first time. his face brightens in an undeniable blush as he pulls you into a tight hug. he presses another kiss against your cheek and hides his face in the crook of your neck. he never mentions it, but there’s a big smile on his face for the rest of the day

━━ boyfriend!toge who is a little insecure about his speech. it’s not easy just being able to communicate in origini ingredients. but you always notice when he falls more silent than usual and make sure to ease his worries as much as you can

━━ boyfriend!toge who shows his affection through quality time. during your lunch breaks or down time he’ll occasionally move to sit beside you. his shoulder just barely brushes against your own as he silently watches you gossip with maki or yell out words of encouragement that make megumi scoff

━━ boyfriend!toge who smiles the brightest you have ever seen when you hesitantly show him the first sentences you had learned in sign language. his face flushes almost immediately; blood spreads across his cheeks and ears, painting his features a soft shade of pink

━━ boyfriend!toge who only exposes his face around you. your fingertips gently trace against the deep indents on his skin. his eyes flutter shut and a soft sigh escapes him as he leans further into your touch

━━ boyfriend!toge who hates when you go on missions. his hands gently grip onto your wrist as he pulls you into a tight hug. he leans his head into the crook of your neck, peppering faint kisses against any skin he can reach. he stares into your eyes when he finally pulls away, doing his best as he silently reminds you to be safe

━━ boyfriend!toge who teaches you how to play his favourite video games. he sits behind you with his arms wrapped gingerly around your waist, guiding your hands on the controller or showing you which route to take. sometimes yuuta or yuuji will join and the night will end with all of you asleep in a pile on the couch

━━ boyfriend!toge who hates waking up in the morning. his arms snake around your waist, pulling you back towards your bed as he curls his body against you. he blinks up at you with tired eyes, whispering a quiet “fish flakes”

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @ffinnamon @vaxmpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho @dog55teeth

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or reblogging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

[cumironi]

Yuta and a 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 reader who has a habit of making nsfw jokes at any given time..?

SUPER FREAKY GIRL: YUTA OKKOTSU

yuta okkotsu loves having you as his girlfriend, but there is nothing that would prepare yuta from this side of you— making everything sensual; you just love having your shy boyfriend flustered and blushing, just overall giving him a hard time. . . and a boner.

w/c: 5.7k

warning : lots and lots of suggestive conversation, fluff.

𝜗𝜚 . . . i'm having too much fun writing this one because yuuta is one of my favorites jjk's character.

yuuta okkotsu is head over heels for you. as your boyfriend, he treasures the moments you share and finds immense joy in every little aspect of your relationship. he loves the way you look at him, how you laugh at his jokes, and the tenderness of your touch. however, there's a unique side to your dynamic that always keeps him on his toes and completely off guard.

you have an incredible talent for dropping cheeky, flirtatious comments at the most unexpected moments. whether you're out with friends, in a casual setting, or sharing a quiet evening alone, you never miss an opportunity to tease him with your playful remarks. it doesn't matter if you're surrounded by people or if it's just the two of you—your provocative comments come effortlessly, catching him by surprise every single time.

yuuta finds himself blushing and stumbling over his words, his usually composed demeanor melting away under your mischievous influence. the way you playfully provoke him, turning his calm and collected nature into a flustered mess, is something he can't quite get used to, even though he adores it. your comments add a layer of excitement and unpredictability to your relationship, making every interaction with you both exhilarating and endearing. It’s a playful dance that keeps your connection vibrant and full of sparks, and yuuta wouldn’t have it any other way.

just like that moment, you and yuuta were deep into your combat training at the usual training ground, along with your friends. as you both took a brief pause to catch your breath, you decided to lighten the mood with a flirty comment.

with a playful smirk, you said, “you know, yuuta, if you keep dodging my attacks like that, i might just have to find another way to catch your attention. should i flash you some tits?”

yuuta, slightly flustered and caught off guard, tried to maintain his composure but ended up stumbling over his own feet, falling to the ground with a surprised laugh. his cheeks flushed a soft pink as he looked up at you, his usual calm demeanor giving way to a charmingly embarrassed smile.

yuuta's reaction was absolutely adorable, and you couldn't help but feel a hint of satisfaction that you'd managed to break through his otherwise calm demeanor. he chuckled softly as he attempted to pick himself up from the ground, still wearing that endearing blush on his face.

“that's— ah. . .”

his voice was shaky, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, but it was clear that your words had made his heart skip a beat or two.

“i-i wouldn't... mind— uh. . .”

and don't forget the other day when you and yuuta were hanging out with friends in inumaki’s room, the group chatting and laughing together. yuuta was seated on the floor beside you, comfortably leaning against the wall as he engaged in conversation with his friends. you, sitting next to him, were enjoying the relaxed atmosphere and the easy camaraderie.

as the conversation flowed around you, you decided to add a bit of playful mischief to the mix. without drawing attention, you let your hand slide down and gently squeeze yuuta's thigh. his eyes widened slightly, and he momentarily faltered in his conversation, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

yuuta tried to maintain his composure, but the warmth of your touch and the unexpected squeeze made him shift uncomfortably. his friends, too engrossed in their discussions, didn’t notice the subtle exchange. you couldn't help but smile at his reaction, enjoying the way your simple gesture made him blush and fidget while trying to keep up with the conversation.

when your friends don't notice, you lean closer, “have you been working out with gojo, babe?” you smile at him, your sweet, sweet, innocent smile. “it feels like your thighs have gotten more muscle than before,” you give his thigh another squeeze. “can i make a mess on your thigh?” you whisper in his ear, slightly giving it a kiss.

you and your dirty jokes. . .

you were spending a cozy evening in yuuta okkotsu’s dorm room. the room was softly lit, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. you were lying on your stomach on his bed, deeply focused on your lego puzzle as you assembled the pieces with meticulous care. meanwhile, yuuta sat on the sofa near the bed, engrossed in a book, his gentle presence adding to the comfort of the night.

every now and then, you glanced over at yuuta, admiring the way he seemed completely absorbed in his reading, his eyes scanning the pages with a look of serene concentration. the quiet of the room was punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages and the occasional click of lego pieces snapping into place.

you couldn’t resist taking advantage of the peaceful moment to tease him a little. with a playful smirk, you glanced up and called out, “babe, do you have a driver's license?” you ask him. yuuta looked up from his book, a hint of surprise on his face at the unexpected question. he blinked a few times, considering the question before replying.

“a... driver's license? yeah, i do. i got it a year ago. why do you ask?” his expression was equal parts confusion and curiosity, and he marked his page before fully turning his attention towards you. the lamplight cast a soft glow over his features, making his dark eyes seem even more intense as he looked at you, waiting for your response.

you smile, looking over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “do you think i need a driver's license, too, to ride you?” yuuta's face instantly turns a deep shade of scarlet, and he splutters wordlessly, clearly caught off guard by your suggestive comment. his heart rate quickens, and it's clear that your words have had quite the effect on him.

he swallows hard, attempting to regain his composure as he struggles to find a suitable response to your question. after a moment, he manages to blurt out a response, his voice shaky and his eyes wide with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

“y-you— uh, i mean, n-no, you don't. . .”

his cheeks were flushed, and he shifted nervously on the sofa, his heart still racing from your playful comment. he couldn't help but feel flustered by your boldness, but at the same time, he found your confidence and assertiveness incredibly attractive. clearing his throat, he tried to respond in a more composed manner, attempting to hide the effect your words had on him.

“no, baby... y-you don't need a d-driver's license to...” he stumbled over his words, unable to finish the sentence as his mind wandered to the possible implications. yuuta's brain is short-circuited, his thoughts overwhelmed by the sudden fantasy that had filled his mind. he flushed an even deeper shade of red, his eyes widening in surprise as his imagination ran wild for a moment. he clenched his jaw, trying to compose himself, but he couldn't shake off the effect your words had on him.

he swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the edge of the sofa as he tried to collect his thoughts. “baby, that's... um... t-that's not fair...” he groaned, almost whining.

you chuckled, amused by how easily your boyfriend became a blushing mess. you push yourself away from the comfort of his bed to walk over him. instinctively, yuuta opens his arms, gladly and warmly welcoming you to his lap.

“what's not fair? i'm just asking you a question,” you look down at him. yuuta's arms automatically wrap around you as you settle in his lap, pulling you closer to him. the warmth of his embrace provides a sense of comfort and intimacy, and he gazes up at you with a mix of slight embarrassment and affection.

“you know what's not fair,” he mutters, his voice still faintly hoarse from the earlier flustered response. he lets out a soft chuckle, his cheeks still tinged with a hint of pink. his eyes fix on yours, a slight pout on his lips as he pretends to be indignant.

“you're playing with my heart,” yuuta leaned back into the sofa, pulling you even closer against his chest as he continued to pout slightly. despite his feigned indignation, there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes, a glimmer of enjoyment in the way he reacted to your teasing.

his arms wrapped around your waist, his touch firm and warm. he could feel your body pressed against him, and the closeness only heightened the intimacy between you. his heart raced in his chest, the sound of it like a gentle thrum against your skin.

“you're being mean,” he accused, his voice soft and somewhat teasing. yuuta's grip on your waist tightened slightly, the playful pout still on his lips. he looked up at you with the cutest puppy dog eyes, his face the picture of exaggerated disappointment, but there was a hint of mischief behind his gaze.

he let out a soft sigh, his voice a playful grumble as he continued his act of indignation. “you're toying with my emotions... it's not fair. i can't handle it when you say things like that.”

yuuta's eyes never left yours, holding your gaze with a mixture of playful affection and mock frustration. he maintained his pout, his lips pressed together in a fake frown as he continued to grumble about your behavior.

he shifted slightly underneath you, causing your hips to press against his crotch, eliciting a sharp inhale from him as he seemed to be struggling to keep up with the charade. his hands moved to grip your hips, his fingers pressing gently into your skin as if to silently urge you to stop teasing him. “i'm sorry baby, didn't mean to,” you murmur, voice so low yuuta is afraid it reaches his crotch, especially with that little smile of yours. but knowing your nature, he knows you didn't feel sorry at all, not even a wee.

yuuta swallows hard, your sultry voice sending a shiver down his spine and straight to his core. despite your mock apology, he can tell from the look in your eyes that you're not even remotely sorry at all. he takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure as your words and your body pressed against him have an undeniable effect on him. but he plays along, feigning a pout as he speaks in a slightly breathless voice.

“you're not sorry. you're a tease.”

yuuta's words were barely a murmur as he struggled to rein in the desires growing within him. he shifted slightly, his grip on your hips becoming more firm. his body tensed beneath you, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to maintain his composure. yet, despite his attempts to keep his cool, he couldn't help but find your teasing behavior incredibly tantalizing. the way you made his body respond so intensely to your every word and touch was both maddening and irresistible.

“no, i mean it, i'm really sorry,” you again, murmur softly. your hands are moving around, caressing yuuta's bare chest. now he kind of regrets wearing nothing but a black boxer when you are around.

yuuta's breath hitches as your fingers caress his bare chest, the sensation sending a rush of heat through his body. he bites his lip, trying to maintain his composure as your touch ignites a fire within him. he knows he's fighting a losing battle, but he still tries to keep up his act of feigned disappointment.

“you— ah. . . you really don't seem like you're sorry,” he replies as softly as he can, his voice sounding a little more huskier than usual. you laugh a little before shaking your head, “no, not at all.” slowly you move your hips— your palm puts pressure on his chest.

yuuta's eyes widen slightly as you move your hips, your touch causing a sharp intake of breath to escape from his lips. the pressure of your palm on his chest combined with your seductive movements makes his heart race even faster, his chest rising and falling more rapidly as his restraint begins to falter.

“you... tease,” he whispers under his breath, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and undeniable desire. his hands grip your hips a bit tighter as he struggles to keep control of his own body's reactions. yuuta's body trembles involuntarily as you move against him, the friction between your bodies causing him to bite back a moan.

his eyes are fixed on yours, his expression now a mix of pleading and arousal. he wants you, desperately, but he knows you're enjoying this little game of tease and denial. he swallows hard, his voice strained as he speaks. “you, you're driving me crazy teasing me like this.”

suddenly, you stop moving, and he looks at you confused, eyebrows knitting together the moment his body is covered with cold nothing.

“i'm hungry,” you said. getting up from his lap and walking over to your phone. yuuta was too stunned to speak, he looked at you with eyes wide open, having his brain working twice as hard to process what the fuck is just happened— you standing near his bed with nothing but his navy blue shirt.

yuuta was left speechless, his body cold and abandoned as you abruptly got up from his lap. he sat frozen, watching you as you stood near the bed. his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions; frustration, confusion, and undeniable arousal. he felt vulnerable and exposed, his body still tingling from your touch, yet now left with nothing to relieve the tension.

“hungry?? seriously?”

yuuta’s voice was a bit strained, a mix of annoyance and disbelief. here he was, sitting there half-naked and flustered because of your actions, and all you could say was that you were hungry.

he ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts and regain his composure, but it was difficult to do so while feeling so exposed and wanting nothing more than to have you back on his lap.

“you… you can’t just leave me like this and then say you’re hungry…” he wanted to protest, to pull you back to where you belong and demand that you finish what you started. but he also knew you well enough to know that your teasing could continue for much longer if he didn't tread carefully. you turn your head, masking a confused look, purposely acting oblivious to make your boyfriend frustrated; it works. “like what?” you ask, “i can't eat now?” you added.

yuuta's frustration grew as you played oblivious, pretending to be completely unaware of the effect you had on him. his jaw clenched, and he let out a small, frustrated noise as he tried to find the right words to respond. he knew you were enjoying this, reveling in his growing frustration.

“no... you can eat later— i…”

he swallowed hard, his mind filled with images of you on top of him, your hands running all over his body. but he quickly shook his head, trying to snap out of his fantasies and focus on the current moment. you groan a little, pretend to be a little annoyed, “but baby, i'm hungry. . .” you look at him while pouting. you again, walk over and stand before him— making him eye-level with your bare thigh. your eyes focusing on your screen, scrolling through a bunch of restaurants and ready to order some food.

yuuta's breath catches in his throat as you step close to him again, his eyes fixated on your bare thigh right in front of him. his hands clench at his sides as he struggles to keep himself from reaching out and pulling you onto his lap.

he takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts and find some semblance of control, but the sight of you in that position makes it increasingly difficult. he can feel the tension and desire rising within him, and he knows you're just stoking the flames even higher.

“babe. . . we can order later.”

yuuta's voice is low and strained as he speaks. his gaze is fixed on your legs, the temptation to reach out and run his hands up your thighs almost unbearable. his heart is racing, and he's struggling to keep his thoughts from spiraling out of control.

leaning forward slightly, he looks up at you, his eyes pleading and filled with a mixture of lust and frustration, “can't we... can't we do something else first, please...?”

yuuta's gentle and desperate comment seemed to fall on deaf ears as you continued to focus intently on your phone, scrolling through various food options. absorbed in your thoughts, you muttered aloud about your cravings.

“hmm, what should we have for dinner tonight?” you pondered, your eyes glued to the screen. “i’m really craving some chicken. it sounds so good right now. what about you, babe? any particular food you’re in the mood for?” you didn’t even bother to look up, lost in your own world of food choices. yuuta’s dark blue eyes followed you with a frustrated face.

yuuta groaned internally as you continued to obliviously scroll through your phone and discuss dinner options. he knew you were teasing him, prolonging his suffering by pretending not to notice his growing desperation. his eyes darkened as he watched you, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment of this maddening game.

he bit his lip, trying to rein in his frustration and maintain his composure, but it was a losing battle. he wanted you, wanted you badly, and you seemed determined to keep him in this state of agonizing limbo.

“babe, please. . . i don't care about dinner right now,” his voice was strained, a mixture of frustration and desire as he pleaded with you to stop this maddening game. his hands gripped the edge of the sofa, knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to snatch your phone away and show you exactly what he wanted.

“i just want you, i need you... please. can we do something else first?” he couldn’t hide the pleading tone in his voice, the words coming out almost like a desperate whimper. yuuta's heart pounded in his chest as he waited for your response, his eyes fixed on you, silently begging you to put down the phone and give him the attention he so desperately craved.

he could feel the tension in the air, the palpable sexual energy between you both, and he knew that you were fully aware of the effect you had on him. but you continued to act nonchalant, driving him to the edge of his patience. he swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke again.

“babe... please...”

“later baby,” you mumble while your eyes are still on your phone, you touching his cheek for a second before walking away to sit on his bed. yuuta's heart sank as you dismissed him, your careless words and brief touch doing nothing to quell the fire burning within him.

he watched in disappointment as you walked away and sat on the bed, a small part of him hoping that you were just trying to build up the tension, but the logical part of his brain knew that you were actually serious about waiting.

he let out a frustrated sigh, his body still aching with desire as he tried to accept that he would have to wait a while longer for the release he craved.

“later? great...”

yuuta leaned back on the sofa, feeling defeated and frustrated by your lack of attention. he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself and push aside the growing disappointment and lust coursing through his body. it was difficult, knowing that the object of his desire was right there, casually scrolling through the phone while he stewed in his own frustration.

he fidgeted on the sofa, shifting his weight and trying to find a comfortable position while he waited for you to finish your phone business so that you could finally give him the attention he craved so badly. yuuta's mind is raced, filled with a mix of emotions and thoughts. he couldn't understand how you could be so unaffected by the tension and desire that was palpable between you both.

as he sat there waiting, he began to imagine different scenarios in his mind. scenarios where you suddenly set your phone down and pounced on him, giving him the release he so desperately needed. but he knew that was unrealistic, and it only served to frustrate him further.

“done!” you declared with a sense of satisfaction as you tossed your phone onto his bed. finally, you turned to yuuta, giving him a sweet, reassuring smile. with a playful bounce in your step, you pushed yourself off the bed and walked over to him, making him think that you were ready to spend some quality time together.

however, his hopeful anticipation quickly turned to confusion as you walked right past him and headed towards the fridge. opening the door, you bent over to peer inside, scanning the contents with focused determination.

“yuuta, baby,” you called out, “do you still have that vanilla ice cream? i’ve been craving it all day!” your tone was light and cheerful, clearly more interested in satisfying your sweet tooth than in the cozy moment he had hoped for. yuuta's face fell as he watched you walk past him without even acknowledging his desperate need for your attention. his heart sank as you bent over and started rummaging through the fridge, your focus completely on your craving for ice cream.

he couldn’t believe how easily you seemed to forget about his frustration and desire, as if they were completely insignificant compared to your hunger for sweets. he frowned as he spoke, trying to mask the disappointment in his voice.

“mmm, yeah, it’s still in there…”

after a thorough search through the fridge, you finally spotted the vanilla ice cream tucked in the back. with a satisfied grin, you pulled it out and made your way back to yuuta. you plopped down beside him on the sofa, the ice cream container now in your hands.

without giving yuuta much attention, you set the ice cream on the coffee table and reach for the remote. you turned on the tv, casually flipping through channels as you settled into a comfortable position beside him. you pull the shirt up to your chest, showing yuuta your matching black underwear. the evening’s cozy atmosphere resumed as you started to focus on the show, your attention now firmly on the screen and the ice cream in your hand.

yuuta watched with a mixture of disbelief and frustration as you sat down next to him, completely oblivious to the needs he had been shamelessly expressing just moments ago. he couldn’t believe that you were actually more interested in watching tv and eating ice cream than paying any attention to him.

“what are you doing?” he asked in disbelief. his eyes couldn’t help but roam over your body as you pulled the shirt up and revealed your matching underwear. his body involuntarily reacted to the sight, but it only frustrated him even more, knowing that you had no intentions of satisfying his desires.

you turn your head to him, a confused look coloring your pretty face with a pair of your eyebrows arch, “what? i didn't want the ice cream to get to your shirt,” you tell the boy before turning your attention back to the tv.

yuuta let out a small, scoffing laugh at your nonchalant response. he couldn't believe that you were even more concerned about getting ice cream on his shirt than you were about his obvious frustration and need.

“oh, thanks for that,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. “i really appreciate you looking out for my shirt, but i think i was hoping for your attention on something else…” you just nodded, clearly not really paying attention to whatever he just said.

yuuta gritted his teeth, feeling increasingly frustrated and ignored. he watched as you continued eating your ice cream and watching tv, as if he wasn’t even there. he could feel the heat rising in his body, a mixture of anger and arousal that he couldn’t seem to control.

he shifted on the sofa, trying to get more comfortable, but the friction between his body and the fabric only made his frustration grow even more. he clenched his fists and tried to speak calmly, despite the frustration threatening to boil over.

“love... can we talk for a minute?”

“hm?” you hummed softly.

you turn your head to him— eyebrows arching for the second time. he watches how you lick your ice cream, starting from the bottom, and dragging your tongue to the top before putting the ice cream full inside your mouth.

yuuta couldn't believe how completely innocent and oblivious you were acting as you licked your ice cream in that incredibly seductive manner. it was driving him insane, his body responding with desperate need even though he was angry at your indifference.

“can you... can you stop doing that for a minute?“ he tried to keep his voice steady, failing to conceal the desire lacing his words. “i need to talk to you about something... it's important.” your side lips irk, like you're mocking him, “what? you wish it was your dick, huh?”

yuuta's face flushed red at your blunt and accurate comment. it was as if you had read his mind and were now taunting him with his own desires. he fidgeted on the sofa, trying to keep his tone steady despite the obvious discomfort in his pants.

“shut up...” he muttered, his voice low and full of frustrated arousal. “i just want to talk to you about... something else, okay?” yuuta's eyes darken as you mock him with that smirk on your face, your words going straight to the growing frustration and arousal within him.

you nodded, “okay.”

but your hand is moving slowly— fingers pinching your ice cream stick and pulling it out and in for a few times, still with that mocking smirk in your lips. yuuta watched as your hand moved, and he couldn’t help but let out a small, involuntary moan. he knew you were doing it on purpose, trying to tease and torture him even more, and it was working all too well. he bit his lip and clenched his fists, trying to keep his control and not give in to the growing need in his body.

“why... why are you doing this to me?” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and frustration. yuuta's body is tense as he watches you play with the ice cream stick, the sounds of your slurping and licking adding to his growing ache. he can feel his self-control slipping, the desire for you growing stronger with each passing moment.

“i just— i just want to talk to you... can you please. . .put the ice cream down for a minute?” his voice is pleading now, desperation bleeding into the words. again, you nodded, “yes, babe.” so you are putting the ice cream down— down to your throat until you gag before slowly pulling the ice cream out of your mouth.

yuuta’s eyes darkened as he watched you put the ice cream down your throat, the sight of you gagging only adding to the overwhelming mix of desire and frustration coursing through him. he swallows hard, his voice growing even more strained as he speaks, “y/n, that's not what i meant...”

yuuta's frustration and arousal reach a boiling point as he watches you continue to tease him on purpose, making it increasingly difficult for him to think clearly. he knows he should put an end to this maddening game, but his body is betraying him, responding to every action and movement you make.

he takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his desire and speak calmly, yet he can't help the hint of pleading in his voice, “can you please, just stop what you're doing and talk to me?” you nodded enthusiastically, your smile widening as you finally turned your attention back to yuuta. “yes, baby, i’m all done now. we can talk,” you reassured him, placing the ice cream stick down on the table with a contented sigh.

he noticed a small smudge of ice cream lingering at the corner of your lips. the sight made you look even more sensual. you were clearly enjoying the moment, and the bit of ice cream on your lips only added to the fire. it was white and creamy and all yuuta could ever think was how you look with his cum on your lips.

he swallowed hard, his mind wandering to thoughts of how you would look with it replaced by his own... he tried to brush away the thought, but the image was already burned into his mind. “thanks, listen, I really do need to talk to you about something...”

yuuta’s voice trailed off as his gaze fixated on the ice cream smudge on your lip. His mind was overwhelmed with thoughts and images of what he wanted to do to you, and he found it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation. he cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice even as he continued speaking, “it's important... or at least, i think it is, but i can't concentrate with... with...” he pauses, his eyes locked on that damn smudge of ice cream on your lip.

“with what?”

yuuta’s frustration and desire grew stronger as he continued to stare at your lip, the ice cream smudge taunting him. he knew he should just blurt out what he wanted to say, but the words were stuck in his throat. he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself and form a coherent sentence.

“that, that ice cream smudged... on your lip,” he manages to say, his voice strained and low, “it's distracting me.” he tried to keep his voice steady, but he could hear the slight waver in his tone, betraying the struggle he was having to keep his focus and control. he clenched his fists, silently willing you to just wipe that damn ice cream smudge off your lip, but you just sat there, seemingly oblivious to the effect it was having on him.

he shifted on the sofa, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the movement only served to remind him of the growing ache in his body. he wanted to reach out and wipe it off himself, but he knew that would only make things worse. he swallowed hard, his voice strained as he spoke again, “babe... can you please just wipe that ice cream off your lip? it's driving me insane.”

“oh?” your thumb moves across your lips, brushing the ice cream off of you before licking your finger. “sweet, just like when i swallow you.” yuuta's breath hitched as he watched you wipe the ice cream off your lips with your finger, and then casually licking it clean, as if you were blissfully unaware of the effect you had on him.

he couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at your nonchalant attitude, but at the same time, his body responded to the sight, stirring with renewed desire at your words, “babe... what are you doing to me...”

you taking off your shirt before moving closer, “wanna taste yourself?” you mumble on his lips after you ring your arms around his neck, closing any gap between you and him. yuuta let out a soft moan as he feels your lips on his, the taste of the sweet ice cream still lingering on them. your arms around his neck only added to his growing arousal, and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his control.

he let his hands roam over your bare skin, tracing the curves and ridges of your body with his fingers as he spoke in a ragged whisper, “god, you're driving me crazy... you know that?”

smiling, you whisper “i know,” on his lips as you push him to lie on the couch, slowly with you on top of him. yuuta's body responds eagerly to your touch and movement, his hands instinctively reaching for your hips and holding you gently in place on top of him. he can feel the heat from your body radiating through him, the sweet, lingering taste of the ice cream still clinging to your lips.

he looks up at you with a mixture of frustration and desire, his voice coming out in a low, gravelly whisper, “you're going to be the death of me, you know that? i-i want you so badly.”

“we can forget the chicken, i'm craving to get rail out of nowhere,” you mumble on his lips, licking his bottom lips. a low, guttural moan escapes from yuuta's lips as he feels you licking his bottom lip, his body responding immediately to your touch and words. he can feel his resolve slipping as his hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you even closer to him on the sofa.

he manages to speak through gasps and breaths, “jesus... the things you do to me.” he can feel the heat of your body pressed against his, his hands begin to roam over the bare skin of your back, tracing the contour of your curves as he no longer fights the rising tide of desire and frustration within him.

by the end of the night, yuuta had certainly made sure that you were thoroughly exhausted and satisfied, paying you back for all the teasing and driving him crazy. the combination of his pent-up frustration and desire had led to a night of intense passion and energy that left you both breathless and spent.

[basicallyjeankirschtein]

Left On Read - Yuta x Reader SMAU

chap 5: crash out masterlist

you didn’t want to forgive toge, considering how he called you a hoe and all. but, you’re open to the aspect of meeting his friend panda. you also appreciated his apology, much better than yujis, who’s supposed to be your best friend.

after sending the last text, yuta turned his phone on do not disturb and got smile ready for you.

“it’s a bit scary, but don’t worry, i’m here for you.” he said with a genuine smile.

for once in your life, you didn’t feel like the second choice.

-

hai guys! i’m glad everyone is in agreement that they do NOT deserve forgiveness 😭 watching you guys tweak out in the comments is the funniest thing ever DO IT MORE I HATE THEM ALL!

also guys would it be whorish of me to make multiple guys have one sided crushes on yn.. main love interest will be yuta my glorious king but i think it’d be funny for everyone to switch up after her immaculate glow up from moving on to a dif friend group 🤤🤤

@shokosbunny @kalulakunundrum @tenthmilo @maddietries @genxnarumi @reiluvr @love-me-satoru @crystal-freak24 @gigiiiiislife @juujujs @heartz4nanami @justmare @noomimi @thirtykiwis @luvsymai @walllflowerrrsss

[yuutawe]

yuuta okkotsu is not the type of man who says “you’re mine”. he says “i’m yours” — as a simple statement of a fact.

he has no shame uttering the words over and over again. “yours, yours. i’m only yours”.

[essmeow]

AN ITADORI GUIDE TO PUBLIC HIGHSCHOOL

WITH: megumi fushiguro x reader

you've gone to a boarding school almost your whole life, but you're jealous of your twin brother yuji's fun high school experience—so you transfer. though falling in love with his best friend wasn't part of the plan...

status : currently on hiatus

tags : found family , fluff & crack , highschool/modern au , uncle sukuna , may be ooc , smau + written parts , cursing , fem! reader , language , angst if you squint

TABLE OF CONTENT:

INTROS: family ties questionable group + moodboard

01 : suprise! 02 : mitski & mondays 03 : homework answers? 04 : sato-who? 05 : no. 1 party anthem 06 : (they long to be) close to you 07 : vegetable pasta 08 : ...under construction...

[sqtorux]

a long nap

their reactions when you take a long nap and don't reply to them

includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, yuji, megumi, yuta and toge

» requested !

[sonotpattismith]

we hereby conduct this postmortem. (yuta okkotsu x reader)

WARNING: MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS BELOW

word count: 7.8k (oops) warnings: angst, mentions of death, mourning, smut, Yuta in Gojo’s body, manga spoilers 18+ summary: reader attempts to cope with Yuta’s new body, mourning the loss of his previous one a/n: Hi!!! No one really requested this but Yuta is my man fr and this idea has been heavy on my heart 😮‍💨 Yuta is aged up in this as it made more sense for the point in their relationship they were already in. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I loved making it!

Life as a sorcerer was one littered with pain, fleeting hope, loss, and regret. These pitiful factors could practically be named the pillars of the damned lifestyle. You knew what you were getting into right when you joined, and you were reminded of it as your love held you close to his chest, his large hands secured over your head as if to cement you into his memory. Yuta pulled back just a hair, still clutching your head between his hands to look at you, fingers digging into your scalp gently as his long eyes fluttered around your face.

Through the haze of your tears, he appeared blurred. Still, you could make out the inescapable expression of fear that clutched his features. It wasn’t the battle he feared— far from it. He felt as though he could slash through an army at the moment. What gripped his mind and soul so fiercely though, was the thought of leaving you behind. His warm, dark eyes regarded you with care, taking in the way you clutched at his white shirt as if willing him not to go. It broke his heart.

“Everything’s going to be alright, my love.” Yuta assured gently, trying to keep his trembling voice leveled. He was well aware of the countless sorcerers surrounding them, allowing them the privacy of their intimate moment. They pretended not to watch— not to listen, but their hearts were collectively breaking for the pair before them. “It’ll be over before we know. We’ll go home. I’ll cook you something nice— maybe not burn it this time, huh?”

A laugh escaped you despite your tear soaked face. He smiled softly at the sound. The pads of his thumbs reached out to swipe the surface area of your cheeks before pulling you in softly. Your eyes closed as he placed a soft kiss to one eye, moving to the other and doing the same.

“I want the special rice—” you choked out, attempting to pull yourself together for him. Reaching out to run your fingers gently through the end of his hair, you clarified. “The one you had in Kenya.”

“Yeah? The pilau?”

You nodded softly and forced a smile. He laughed breathily at your reply and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Okkotsu?” Their peer that called out to him sounded apologetic to be interrupting the delicate moment, but, then again, there was a war to be won.

Without tearing his gaze from yours, he nodded in understanding. Leaning down with a certain determination in his energy, Yuta captured your lips in his. It was powerful, rough— desperate. His looming figure hunched over you, as if attempting to swallow you whole. Perhaps you would have been happier if he had.

It was the last time your lips felt those of Yuta Okkotsu.

You had been sent out as support, patrolling the area. Realistically, you knew there wasn’t much that you could contribute. While you served as a perfectly decent sorcerer— your techniques were nothing to be put up against the horrors that lied beyond the culling games. It was mainly a distraction. Your peers didn’t want you to watch the fight. They didn’t want your eyes to have to bear witness should your lover be slain that night.

For a few hours, you would get updates from them. First, it was that Kenjaku was dead. A silent tear slipped down your cheek, but you quickly swiped it away as you thanked them for telling you. It was a victory— one of astronomical proportions, but the fight was far from over. After the second hour with no update— a small part of you already knew. After twenty more minutes of radio silence, you forced yourself to go back inside, despite the fear raging in you of what you may find.

As you entered silently, all heads snapped toward you. You knew. Without a word, you made your way back to where Shoko had set up her make-shift infirmary. It ended up being Kusakabe that called out to you— subtle warning in his tone. As if motivated by his attempted persuasion, a few more of your peers began to step forward, but, before they could reach you, you slipped into the dimly lit hallway. Yuta’s katana was leaning up against the wall beside the infirmary, unsheathed and bloodied. Through the sound of the blood rushing through your ears, you faintly heard a commotion stirring from outside the hall. Your mind was miles away from the beloved friends and colleagues gathered just outside though. Your fingers delicately grazed the hilt of his precious katana, wondering if they had to pry it from his stiff fingers.

One more step. It was terrifying— the sense of impending doom that echoed within the chasms of your mind. Just beyond this door frame, it would no longer be a fleeting ghost story whispered between two lovers— a worst case scenario— a horrifying ‘what if’ that was consistently followed by reassuring kisses and desperate love making. The shouting behind you was growing louder now, rushed footsteps pounding down the hall, screams of your name to not go in there, you don’t need to see it.

You took the final step. The healer stood in the middle of the room and seemed to be busying herself with cleaning. She was cleaning a body. Its mid section was cut off from your vision by her somewhat tense figure. Still, laid unceremoniously at the end of the steel stretcher, the unmistakable locks of dark hair your fingers had been buried in just hours prior. As if sensing your presence, Shoko shifted to see who had been watching her work. Her movements faltered when seeing the face of the stiff corpse’s lover. It was too late though, no matter how quickly she tried to adjust her position once again, the image had been burned into your mind— branded.

The body of Yuta Okkotsu lay bare on the examining table— or what was left of his body. It had been mutilated; your beautiful love’s temple disgustingly desecrated. The cavity of his chest was practically split open, slashes running down his once gorgeously cream skin. Even worse though— his head. It was split down his forehead. His paler than usual head was turned just fractionally toward the door. Your lover stared back at you, eyes unmoving, unloving, gone.

There was blood in your mouth. The iron tinging your taste buds was the only way you realized the visceral shriek that emitted from deep within your gut. Your realization didn’t stop you though, and neither did the pain in your throat as you ripped it to shreds once again, knees buckling underneath of you.

“Yuta!” You sobbed, voice eviscerated raw already. The hurried footsteps from outside seemed to finally reach you and, before you could process what was happening, there were hands everywhere. They were on your shoulders, at your elbows, over your eyes— doing anything to attempt to shield you from the sight before you, which you assumed they never intended for you to see in the first place. It was overwhelming: the attempted, hushed coos of comfort that all merged together to sound like the humming of angered bees just waiting to strike at you; the varying grips all pulling you in separate directions, all with the intent to just get you out of that room. Still, despite their efforts, through the gaps of their fingers and shoulders, Yuta’s dead eyes still stared hauntingly back at you.

Pushing against them all with a newfound strength, you fell against the unforgiving floor on your hands and knees, determined to reach him.

“Please, he wouldn’t want you to see him like this.” Kamo attempted to get through to you, his hand once again reaching for your shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.” Your wavering, sliced whisper caused his motions to falter for a moment before reaching out anyway. Another sob was ripped from your mouth at the feeling of hands everywhere again. “Please, please, I just need to hold him. Please. Let me hold him.”

“I told you all to make sure she didn’t come in here.” The commanding voice that spoke up had all five or six desperate individuals looking toward the door. Had you been more present in the moment, you would have recognized the voice. With your peers distracted, you crawled forward once again.

“My love,” The term of endearment reached your ears, making you pause. Wide eyes staring at Yuta’s still lips, you gaped silently. Shoko suddenly moved to cover his body with a sheet she’d retrieved, breaking you from your haze. Reaching out with trembling hands, you attempted to fist the sheet between your fingers. “Please, don’t do that.”

The individuals whose hands had been grappling with you just moments prior released you all together, before another set of firm, purposeful arms slid around your midsection. In mere seconds, you were being hauled up off the floor. For a moment, you were suspended mid air by unfamiliar arms. You thrashed around furiously until they set you down on your feet once again, and you turned to smack whoever it was that was still holding you back.

When the eyes of Satoru Gojo met yours— your movements faltered. A phantom, right before your very eyes. He was real though, you could see his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths, and the warmth radiating from his arms that were still wrapped uncharacteristically around you.

“Gojo—” It was all too much, as you tried to make sense of the scene before you, all the while in the midst of mourning— or attempting to come to grips with the fact that you should be mourning. You suddenly felt as though you might pass out. Steadying a hand on the firm chest before you, your face began to pale a bit. “How are you— what’s—”

Your words failed you though— and so did your body. Satoru leaned down quickly just as you began to slip away. It was too intimate— the way he was looking into your eyes, and the manner in which he held you to his chest. You wanted to push him away, but you felt weak. The snowy whisps of his white hair swayed as he scooped you up and brushed the hair from your forehead. You flinched away from him. As you looked up incredulously at him to question his inappropriate behavior, your eyes caught the scar running along his forehead.

“Everything is okay,” he murmured, but the voice wasn’t comforting, it was confusing as it fell upon your ringing ears. “I’m here, my love.”

The term snapped you from your chance, the murmuring and shuffling around the two of you coming at you in full force as if you’d just come up from underwater. Staring unblinkingly at the man before you, you watched as his piercing, blue eyes drooped softly and uncharacteristically into a haunting stare that was so unmistakably—

“Yuta?”

Following the closure of the grueling culling games, most sorcerers were granted substantial time to rest, and both you and Go— Yuta, were unarguably granted as well. After what you’d seen, what Yuta had subjected himself to for the sake of everyone’s safety, there was a quiet understanding that the pair needed time to adjust to one another again— to heal. As you walked into your shared apartment with the unfamiliar body behind you though, you couldn’t help but gulp down the lump in your throat.

Relieved wasn’t the sufficient word to use to describe how you felt upon learning Yuta was still alive. Granted, he was certainly alive in a very different way than he had been previously— but his soul was still with you. He was still there. Still, the anxiety and grief was eating you alive. You had seen his corpse, seen his lifeless eyes staring back at you. Yet you were still expected to latch onto him once again, resume your bond as if it hadn’t already been irreparably changed. It made you feel selfish— being so uncomfortable by the means by which he remained alive. You wouldn’t say it to him, not after all that he’d been through and the selfless way he sacrificed so much for his peers.

The door of your shared apartment shut behind you. A soft sigh of relief left you. When you last exited this familiar apartment, the two of you were unsure if you’d ever return to it again. A lone tear slipped down your cheek as Yuta set his katana against the wall and came up to grasp at your shoulders. His grip was firm— firmer than you ever remember it being. Feeling the tension in your muscles, he rubbed soft circles into them.

“You want me to start a shower for you, love?” He offered in that unfamiliar voice, his cheek grazing yours as he leaned down to meet your ear. Unable to speak, you simply nodded. With a soft kiss against your temple, he made his way down the hall and disappeared into your shared bathroom. The distance eased some of the pressure building in your chest, and you leaned back to rest against the wall.

How could this ever go back to normal? Gojo was a man who had watched your love grow together from the moment the both of you were introduced as mere teenagers. He’d given a horribly anxious Yuta advice on how to talk to you, given him money to take you on a nice first date before the boy had received his first stipend from the school. And now— now you were expected to live with him, to wake up to him every morning, make love to him. He wasn’t a stranger, but in a sense of closeness and intimacy, your body saw him as just that.

With a shaky sigh, you pushed off of the wall when you heard the shower running. Entering the bathroom with your towel folded over your arms, the steam from the shower enveloped you like a warm blanket. It invited you to wash away all the atrocities you’d faced in the past weeks. You placed your towel on the sink, but your pre-shower routine was cut short when you felt fingers grasping at the hem of your shirt to pull it up. A startled gasp escaped you, and you whipped around to face Yuta. He abruptly halted his attempts to undress you, staring at you with wide eyes. Much to your mortification, he was naked.

“Oh—” You stuttered out, staring up at the ceiling, at the wall behind him, anywhere but him. “Sorry. You— you can shower first.”

Yuta stopped you with a soft hand on your wrist as you moved to exit the bathroom. You were stiff before him, flinching away just barely noticeable as your arm made contact with his bare chest.

“Hey,” he said softly with a chuckle. It sounded a bit forced though— he sounded scared. “It’s just me, love. You can— you can look at me.”

Your head was still turned away from him as he pulled you closer against the stranger’s body, leaning down to press a delicate kiss against your cheek. Your eyes drifted and were met with your reflection in the mirror, wrapped up in the arms of Satoru Gojo. Following your gaze, his icy blue eyes met yours in the reflection. As if recognizing the apprehension in your expression, his face dropped a bit. Your heart clenched guiltily.

“S’okay,” Yuta attempted a nonchalant laugh, his strong arms loosening their grip on you. He gulped down the nausea that began to stir within him along with the pang of rejection. “Umm… I’ll be out in a minute. Why don’t you pick out a movie for us to watch, yeah? We’ve probably missed out on a bunch.”

With a soft nod and forced smile, you couldn’t have exited that small bathroom quick enough.

Time. You just needed some time.

Following your own, mind numbingly relaxing shower, you made sure to dry off and dress in the safe confines of the bathroom. You smiled softly at the feeling of the fluffy rug against your toes as you stepped into your very missed room. Yuta was already under the covers, remote in hand as he read the description of the movie you’d picked out. He was chewing absentmindedly at his bottom lip, a habit you’d never seen Gojo partake in before. It made you smile softly— something that was uniquely Yuta still shining through. His gaze snapped toward you while you stood hesitantly on the side of the bed. Smiling warmly, he opened up the blanket on your side of the bed in invitation, a faint glimmer of hope sparkling in his blue eyes.

“Yu, this shirt is…” Your comment drifted as you fingered at the tshirt spread too tightly across his broad chest. It clung to his bulging arms unnaturally, straining against the muscles.

A blush painted his pale cheeks, and you were once again put off by seeing the innocent expression on the face before you. He smiled sheepishly, looking down at himself.

“I know. None of my stuff really fits me anymore.” He explained bashfully, reaching up to scratch his head awkwardly. “Guess that means we can go shopping, and you can pick out all my clothes like you always wanted to, huh?”

You giggled softly at the idea. Truthfully, you were grateful he’d put the shirt on despite its tight fit. For the past few days, he didn’t even smell like himself anymore. But now, as you timidly shuffled closer to him and buried your head into his chest, you were able to inhale the lingering scent left behind by his previous body. It was the only thing keeping you huddled closely to his new one that night.

You dreamt of him that night— the old him. He was wrapped around you, his grip merciless as he clung onto you, as if you might float away. When you turned to look at him, the sight of his big, warm, puppy dog eyes filled your chest with butterflies. You recognized the scene, it was the first time you’d tended to him following a mission. Both of you unaware of the other’s feelings, timid in the way you brushed against one another, hyper aware of every breath and stare. As you dapped the alcohol-soaked cotton against his cheek, his shaky hands came up to grip innocently onto your waist. In truth, though you teased him relentlessly for it, he really just didn’t know what to do with his hands in the moment. When he saw the way your face burned under his touch, something had shifted between you— an understanding.

Your head burrowed deeper into the pillow below you as you were pulled from your slumber by the heavy hole in your chest. The arm strewn across your waist tighter around you, drawing you closer as he hummed. You smiled softly at the sound of him awakening. Shifting to catch a glimpse of those warm eyes that had just been plaguing your dreams, you were ripped from your trance. A startled yelp escaped you, sending you flying to the other end of the bed at the sight of the electric blue eyes staring back at you. In response, Yuta jumped out of bed with a start, staring at you in bewilderment.

“I— I’m sorry,” you cried breathlessly, not even feeling it when tears began to fall down your face. It was as if you could hear his heart break as he watched you. Running a trembling hand across your damp face, you attempted to calm your breathing. “I’m sorry, Yuta. It’s not your fault, I just—”

“You need time.” He finished softly for you.

For the following weeks, Yuta slept on the couch of your shared living room. It made you feel awful, coming out every morning to see him twisted uncomfortably on the furniture that was far too small to hold him in this form. You insisted that it should be you sleeping on it, given it was you who was so startled by the arrangement, but he refused to even hear of it. He said he’s always found the couch comfortable, but you knew that was about four inches and fifty pounds of muscle ago.

With the guilt knawing away at you, you made every effort to adjust to the dramatic change. The two of you watched your usual television shows on the couch together every night before he’d give you a longing goodnight kiss on the cheek and forehead. He never pushed you for more. You had just begun feeling somewhat comfortable enough to press quick, timid kisses on his lips every now and again, and he relished in each and every one of them like a man starved. It was evident in the way his eyes remained close and his lips chased yours each time you’d pull away.

He really did mean it when he said he wanted you to go shopping with him. After one too many ripped pants and boxer briefs in the trash, you insisted it be sooner rather than later. His wispy hair did a good enough job concealing the fading scar across his forehead while you two stepped out in public for the first time again. Being out of the stuffy apartment helped to ease the underlying tension that had grown between you. Yuta was making you laugh, charming you with his sheepish jokes and shy charisma— the type only he could pull off. It was good for you. You two walked from store to store, and you felt his pinky finger graze hesitantly against yours.

Looking up at him, you found his blue orbs already focused on you. They were wide, hopeful— asking for permission. Smiling softly at him, you silently carded your hand into his large one. It felt foreign, but the wide, excited smile that he tried to conceal seemed to mask any apprehension that bubbled within you. For the remainder of the day, Yuta walked with more confidence in his stride, pulling you giddily along with him wherever his attention drew him to.

It was a much needed break from the awkward push and pull you two had found yourselves in. So, when you returned to the apartment that night, you were almost scared to break that bubble. The two of you fell into your new routine, regarding each other friendly, showering separately. You were just gathering your things when he emerged from the bathroom, a towel hung loosely around his waist. Quickly averting your gaze, you muttered an apology as you attempted to step past him.

“Hey,” he called softly, stepping to the side to block you from entering the restroom. You felt his fingers clutch your chin and turn you to face him. His platinum hair clung to his face, droplets of water spilling onto his chiseled face. A blush rose to your cheeks at the sight. An amused smile fell easily on his lips. “You haven’t blushed like this looking at me since we were in high school.”

Your brows furrowed at his words, envious on the way he seemed to be unable to find the insanity of the situation. His damp hand ran down the side of your neck, creeping over your shoulder and arm until he grasped one of your hands in his. His intense gaze stayed focused on you as he brought your hand up to place on his chest, softly running it down his abdomen.

“I want you to… be comfortable with me again. Be able to look at me again.” He mumbled, his chest beginning to rise and fall more dramatically at the sensation of your hands exploring him once again. You gulped, your fingers catching on the scar that circled all the way across his stomach, sides, and back. It made you tear away from your hesitation, finally allowing yourself to look down at his sculpted body. You circled your finger tentatively around the jagged scar, your other hand creeping up to test the waters in feeling the wet ripples of his abs. Yuta seemed to tremble under your touch, a soft moan falling from his lips at the sensation. It snapped you from your haze. It felt wrong, hearing Gojo’s voice like this, thinking of his body in such a way. You withdrew your hands from him.

“Time.” you quickly reminded him, refocusing your gaze on his face again. His lips were parted, eyes half lidded but blown out with a lustful haze. You darted past him and into the bathroom, hearing him repeat it breathlessly as you closed the door.

“Time.”

You were still a bit shaken up when you exited your shower, pacing the room pensively as you clung to your towel. Looking around, you noticed the small, discarded pile of Yuta’s old shirts that he’d likely just removed from his drawers to make room for his new ones. You smiled fondly at the sight. Picking one up, you brought it up to your face and inhaled deeply. Though evidently fading, his smell still clung to it. It was faint though, so faint that it made your eyes water as you clutched desperately at the material. He was slipping away, every part of him, and all you could do was watch as each bit was replaced. Shoving the discarded shirts into your own drawer for safe keeping, you shed your towel and slipped one over your head before climbing into bed, relishing in the soft, familiar smell that graced your senses.

After a moment or so, there was a gentle knock at the door. Yuta poked his head in and smiled hesitantly at you.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he greeted softly, stepping fully into the dim room. “I just… I wanted to say goodnight to you. You okay?”

You nodded with a sad smile, blinking rapidly to stop more tears from manifesting in your traitorous eyes. Humming softly, he sat on the edge of the bed and grasped your head between his large hands before leaning in to press a gentle kiss against each eye.

“Goodnight, my love. I love you always.”

You couldn’t stop the silent sob that wracked your body as he turned to return to the living room for the night. It was pathetic, the way you continued to mourn for the man sat just outside your grasp. Just moments ago, you stood in tears, willing him not to slip away, yet you were allowing just that.

“Yuta?” Your meek voice made him turn around in question. “Can you… can you come to bed?”

His face lit up the dark room, moonlight illuminating the way his blue eyes seemed to spark at your request.

“Y-Yes, yeah!” He stammered out, looking around eagerly. The man seemed to trip over his own legs as he made his way to the door, holding a reaffirming hand out in front of him. “Hold on, I’m gonna grab my pillows— don’t move!”

Even through your tears, you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he still didn’t seem to have full control over his new body yet— at least not when he was buzzing with the excitement of a teenage boy. Just seconds later, he barreled back into the room, slamming the door behind him and eagerly jumping into his side of the bed. The both of you giggled at the way the bed creaked under his sudden weight. As the laughter subsided, he stared breathlessly at you, eyes gleaming.

“Do you think it’d be okay if I held you tonight?”

Your lips began to tremble at the pained vulnerability in his timid request. Without answering, you scooted closer to him, and he quickly opened his arms for you to tuck yourself against his chest. His chest heaved with a sigh of relief at the feeling of holding you close again. All too soon, he felt his eyes begin to droop despite his burning desire to stay awake and just be with you for a little longer. You were both fast asleep within seconds.

With his old shirt and scent wrapped around your frame, your subconscious couldn’t help but manifest him just as it had remembered him. Again, it was a familiar scene— the night before you two left your apartment for the final time. Before— what happened to him. His dark hair hung lazily over his face as he desperately grinded into you. A gasp over took you at the feeling of him entering you. Your fingernails raked mercilessly across his chest, squeezing the firm slab of muscle there. Yuta whined at the soft stinging that accompanied this action, but it only spurred him on. He wanted to mold himself to you, become one with your body. You helplessly moaned out his name.

Back in reality, beside you, Yuta was stirred from his own peaceful slumber by your shallow, whiny breaths. Your body practically trembled against him, your fingers grasping at the arm that circled your waist.

“Yuta.” Your soft moan filled his ears, making all the blood in his body rush down to the uncharted territory below his waistband. The manner in which you writhed desperately against him did nothing to calm the storm brewing in his pants. Gulping roughly, he allowed his hand to wander from your thigh up to your side, slipping under the thin fabric of your shirt— his shirt. It was the only thing donned on that trembling body of yours save for your underwear. You looked ethereal with the barely risen, morning sun kissing at your supple skin. Leaning down, he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, dragging his lips down to peck and lap aimlessly at your neck. You arched into him, rousing from your sleep with a gentle moan of his name.

“Yeah?” The man mumbled against the back of your neck, gently rutting into your ass from behind you. The wandering hand that had slipped up your shirt grazed over the lush skin of your breast before squeezing it gently between his fingers. A whimper fell from your lips. “Let me take care of you, my love, hm?”

You could only nod breathlessly, and, in an instant, he disappeared under the covers, eagerly shifting you onto your back. Typically, Yuta was a soft, gentle lover— slow in his care for your body. He loved taking his time with you, savoring each sound he could pull from you with each inch of skin he explored. Now though, as he found himself face to face with one of his favorite parts of you for the first time in weeks, he had no patience.

Wrapping his strong arms around your thighs, he shoved his face into your clothed core. A high strung moan ripped up your chest and out your throat as he mouthed lazily over you for a while, wetting the already damp fabric with his drool. Getting tired of the damned barrier, he wanted to taste you for real. In hasty motions, he ripped your underwear down your legs before settling against his breakfast once again.

“Yuta!” You gasped, face reddening with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. He moaned against you at the sound of his name falling from your lips again. His hips involuntarily rutted against the mattress, but he stopped himself. This was about you.

Your fingers trembled, making their way under the sheets to grip his hair firmly. His head swayed side to side as he ravished you, drinking up everything you were willing to give him. Your hips bucked up to grind against his face, making the sheet fall down his back. Looking down, you were met with the sight of Satoru Gojo between your legs, lapping lewdly at your sensitive core as if it gave him life itself, as if it made the sun and the moon and brought all the stars to the night sky.

His eyes opened upon feeling your gaze on him. Those piercing blue eyes that you were becoming so accustomed to regarded you with a deep lust, a carnal desire that had your release creeping up your toes, into your legs and torso, to the very center of your mind.

No, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t come undone like this. It was so wrong, and you felt as though some part of you was betraying Yuta, despite the fact that he was the very man currently worshiping you with his tongue. You partly wondered if he knew what was going through your head right now, watching as his brows suddenly furrowed and his grip on your thighs tightened with a newfound determination. With a harsh, loud suck to your clit, his gaze demanded to be met as you tipped over the edge. Your back arched up with a deafening cry, all the while Yuta’s lips hungrily laid open mouthed kissed against your core as you came down. He caught your clit gently between his lips, pulling at it a fraction before releasing it.

You were gasping for breath, trying to catch yourself before you passed out in an overwhelmed haze. Yuta licked a final, loving stripe up your folds before peppering kisses up your trembling body. Sliding a hand under the arch of your back, he abruptly sat you up with a strength unfamiliar to you. You landed atop his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck to catch yourself before you fell back.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whimpered, capturing your lips against his desperately. They were still wet from their assault against you. Between rushed kisses, he gasped out against your lips. “So beautiful, my love. You’re everything to me.”

You moaned against him at the sound of his familiar praises, pressing your chest against his. He broke from you for barely a millisecond, tossing his shirt over his head before grappling for you once again. His hands found their natural place on your waist, gripping firmly as he brought you down to grind against his straining manhood. Gasping at the sensation of your folds sliding against his thick length, you reached up to grasp at the ends of his hair as you always did. It hit you then, as your fingers grazed the slowly growing hairs of an undercut, that you were about to make love to someone else. Breaking from him with a gasp, you looked at the man before you. His eyes were practically glowing, drinking you in in a manner that told you his thoughts were positively filthy at the present. Closing them once again, he chased your lips with a determined hand against your jaw. You flinched away. Slowly opening his eyes again, he watched in horror as you climbed off of his lap and stood from the bed, looking around for a pair of shorts.

“W-Wait!” Yuta gaped, practically tripping over himself to follow you out of the bedroom.

You pretended not to hear the desperate confusion in his tone, pretended it didn’t squeeze at your chest with guilt. Opening the fridge, you busied yourself grabbing ingredients to make you two a quick breakfast. He called out your name softly, dejected. Bracing yourself, you glanced back at him. His massive frame was hunched in on itself, and his eyes looked so hurt you could practically shoot yourself in the foot for being the cause of it.

“What are you doing?” Yuta breathed quietly, watching as you spread all the ingredients onto the counter.

“I’m making omelets. You want cheese on yours?” You asked over your shoulder, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet for mixing.

“What? No, I—” He could feel the irritation rising in his chest, and he had to take a deep breath before continuing. Stepping closer so he was right behind you, he grasped your wrist softly to halt your rushed movements. “Baby, I miss you.”

“I’m right here, Yu.” You whispered, unable to meet his unwavering gaze. You heard him sigh in frustration at your response.

“No, love,” he pleaded, grasping your hips to press you roughly against the ever present bulge in his sweatpants. Releasing a shaky breath, he snaked a hand across your collarbone before lining it with hot kisses. “I miss you.”

“Yuta,” you protested, slipping away from his grasp. “I’m sorry, I just need—”

“Time?” He cried out, tears welling up in his sad, wide eyes. “You can take all of my time— have all of it! But please just— please look me in the eyes and tell me I’ll still get you back at the end of it.”

“I’m trying!” You sobbed, smacking at his bare chest. He took it all without so much as a flinch. “I’m trying but every time I look at you all I can see is—”

“I’m not Gojo! I’m right here, I’m me. Look at me!”

“Well I don’t recognize you anymore, Yuta!”

His response got caught in his throat. Those glittering blue, six eyes watched as you fell to the floor, clutching your hands to your face. Gentle sobs shook your frame as you curled in on yourself. Yuta stood before you, unsure if touching you would be helpful or not right now.

“I saw your body, Yuta. Your head was split open. Your eyes were lifeless! I accepted that you were dead!” You felt a hesitant hand come down on your back. He slowly sat beside you on the floor. “And then you come back, and you have a new face, a new voice, you even smell different. You’re bigger and you’re stronger, and you’re not my Yuta anymore, okay? You wanted everything to go back to normal but it’s not.”

“I just… I don’t see Yuta anymore.”

Both of you agreed that you needed some time apart that day. Yuta insisted that you be the one to stay home, but you convinced him that you needed time outside of the apartment.

You found yourself in front of Shoko, who regarded you with surprise at your sudden request.

“I want to see his body.”

She blinked a few times at you, slowly. Not even Yuta himself had bothered asking what it was that they did with his body. When he came to, the only thing that was on his mind was the overwhelming relief that he’d be able to come back to you. As the healer looked over your bloodshot eyes, and the dried tears on your face as you clutched at the old t-shirt covering you, she understood what you really needed.

You blinked down at the simple grave before you. It was large, marbled and domed. It had Gojo’s name on it.

“Is this some sort of joke?” You asked breathily, your brows furrowing in anger. A fiery glare was shot in the direction of the woman standing beside you. “Where is his body?”

“Right in front of you.”

“Then why isn’t his name on here?”

“Because Yuta Okkotsu isn’t dead.” Shoko stated flatly, eyes steady on you. “Satoru Gojo is.”

The words sank into your soul as you slowly looked back up at the name etched onto the grave. It was the name of the man you were sure you had been betraying your lover with for a month. Yuta— his former body rested here, but no one mourned for him here. No, this is where they came to mourn Satoru Gojo. You were the only one who had ever mourned for Yuta.

“Satoru Gojo is dead, and the man waiting for you at home loves you— no matter the flesh that wraps his soul.”

You cried the whole way home, but, this time, your tears weren’t being shed in mourning. Rather, they fell down your face in hot streams of guilt. Yuta had been so understanding, so patient with you. He had gone through so much, lost his body, lost his mentor, his friend. The only thing he asked in return was to live the rest of his life with you once again— and you couldn’t look past the flesh attached to his kind heart.

Slowly creaking open the door of your apartment, there was music flowing softly through the air of your shared apartment. Over the rhythm, you could hear the clashing of pots and the clinking of utensils. There was a faint smell of smoke filling the room as well. Shutting the door behind you, you cautiously made your way to the kitchen, gaze melting at the scene before you.

There was an apron tied haphazardly around Yuta’s waist. It was too small on him— straining against his broad, muscular chest. The smell of smoke seemed to be coming from the large pot that was practically vibrating on the stovetop, angrily hissing at the chef, who was too distracted trying to set a pair of plates and cutlery neatly on the small dining table. He was cursing under his breath, white eyebrows pulled up and together in a concerned, puppy-dog like stare. You giggled from behind your hand. His head shot up at the sound.

“No, babe— gah!” Your lover was cut off as he tried to grab the lid off the top of the smoking pot before abruptly dropping it, seemingly burned from its hot surface. It clattered against the stove noisily. “You weren’t supposed to be home yet— shit!”

He paced the length of the kitchen, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet as he ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. The mannerisms— they were so undeniably Yuta Okkotsu. Smiling fondly, you stepped forward to turn the stove off, making him grumble in disapproval.

“I-I was trying to make us pilau.” He pouted, those wide, puppy dog eyes taking in the sight of you. Despite the commotion you had walked into, he was relieved that you came back to him.

“Yeah?” You questioned with an amused smile, reaching behind him to untie the apron from his back and pulling it over his head. Your hands replaced the ties around his neck, pulling him down toward you. It was gonna take you a while to adjust to this sudden, more exaggerated height difference. “What happened to you not burning it this time?”

The pale skin of his neck and cheeks flushed under your intense gaze, making him chuckle nervously. It was evident in the tentative manner he slid his hands around your waist that he was unsure of what you’d be comfortable with.

“Are you gonna come down here, or are you gonna make you climb all six feet of you?”

His Adam’s Apple bobbed against his taut neck, a boyish grin spreading across his lips as he shook his head.

“I have a better idea.”

In one quick motion, he squatted down to grab the backs of your thighs and toss them high around his waist. You gasped at the abrupt motion, clinging around his chest like a spider monkey. He wasn’t even holding onto you as he began walking the both of you to your room. No, his hands were instead grasped on the sides of your head, pulling you into him for a desperate kiss. Shutting the door behind him with his foot, he turned to sit on the edge of the bed, your comparably smaller frame still attached to him.

You fell slowly into his lap, biting at his lips with an unanticipated fervor. Your hands grazed under the hem of his shirt, palms freely exploring the planes of his chest and shoulders. He whimpered under your delicate touch, breaking away from you only to allow you to pull the fabric off of him. Pushing back on his firm shoulders, he fell back against the bed with a huff, watching with bated breath as you kissed each inch of new skin you were presented with. You wanted to commit him to memory— learn the new ways to make him gasp and whimper in that way only Yuta could pull off. As you traversed down his abdomen, he reached down and yanked the hem of your loose shirt over your head, groaning at the sight of your bare chest that he’d missed so much.

Just as your lips grazed the hem of his sweatpants, he sat up abruptly to stop you.

“No, I can’t— I just need you right now.” He rasped, grasping at your waist to toss you down onto the bed.

“Jesus, Yu!” You gasped as your body bounced with the impact. He grinned sheepishly at you as he stumbled out of his sweats before crawling over your body.

“I’m sorry… not used to it yet.” He apologized before grazing his hand over your clothed core, sighing pathetically at the wetness that met his digits. Your teeth were clashing together as the two of you sloppily kissed each other— a bundle of gasps and moans. He molded himself against you as he dragged your soiled panties down your legs before standing up to remove his boxers. You tried not to stare— you really did. The last thing you wanted him to think was that you found his previous parts insufficient. Lord help you though, because— now? Yuta was massive. Watching your apprehensive expression as you took in his new, bare body, he grabbed your hips.

“Come here.” He commanded gently, easily lifting you up to sit on his lap. You both gasped as your core bumped against his painfully hard length. It was a bit embarrassing— the way he was able to wrap one arm around your waist to hold you up as the other gripped his length. The thought of all the different ways he could use this newfound strength sent bubbling excitement straight down to your core. “Take what you can, pretty girl.”

His compassionate words, even as he had you hovered over his desperately touch deprived cock warmed your heart. You nodded wordlessly, mouth falling open as he slowly lowered you onto him. Your nails dug into his shoulder to cope with the slow burning sensation that filled your core as he unconsciously bucked up into you. Before long, you were fully sheathed over his weeping member.

A long whine fell from his lips as your ass met his thighs. The sound was deeper than his usual, pitchy moans that you’d come to love, and it made a heat spread through your chest. You shifted to adjust your thighs in order to begin moving against him, desperate for any sort of friction after the long period of waiting for you to adjust to his new size, but he stopped you. Large hands came up to grip under your ass, lifting you up with ease to grind you against his already twitching length.

“Allow me, my love.”

Okay, maybe you could get used to this Yuta.

masterlist | requests | talk to me ❤︎

I love hearing everyone's thoughts! ◝⠀(ᵔᵕᵔ)⠀◜

[viasdreams]

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

shutting johnny down after he reaches out

⊹ this is part 2, you can read part 1 here!!

a/n: thank you to all the ppl that left plot suggestions in my inbox!! i <3 you !!!

fake text m.list ☁︎⋅

[siriusly-parker]

—hit me hard and soft.

billie eilish-inspired song fics!

“skinny.” — yuuji itadori x ex!chubby!reader

“i could eat that girl for lunch!” — jjk boys smau

“man, am i the greatest.” — satoru gojo, angst, hurt/comfort

“birds of a feather.” — megumi fushiguro, mutual pining, best friends to lovers

“wildflower.” — yuuta okkotsu, angst

“l’amour de ma vie.” + “blue.” — suguru geto, his pov, angst, post-defection consequences and reminiscing on the sweet sweet past

[heyimkana]

Desiderium - Chapter 1

Series Masterlist | AO3 Link

Pairing: Yuuta Okkotsu X Female Reader X Satoru Gojo

Genre: Reincarnation AU, Marriage AU, Fluff, Smut, Slow Burn

Summary: Set in Tokyo, Japan, you and Yuuta were past lovers separated by the cruel hands of fate. That same fate brought you to him again a century later, but while you hold no memories of him or the beautiful life you had shared with him in the past, Yuuta remembers everything. He's waited forever to see you again, yearning for your love, not knowing that you already belong to someone else.

Word Count: 15K+

Content Warnings: None for this chapter.

Notes: Yuuta, Reader, and Satoru are the same age, all in their late twenties. Satoru has his Hidden Inventory personality here, so he might come off as brash and slightly immature.

Written as a birthday gift for my wife Aleks @princess-okkotsu Art drawn by @alwhmd_ on Twitter (commission)

Yuuta Okkotsu is a mystery, and at this moment, as she meets him for the first time in a room filled with papers and ink and comforting silence, he intrigues her more than any lines in her favorite poetry. 

It’s not love at first sight, of that she is sure. She’s experienced that many years ago, or so she believes, with Satoru—the lover with whom she’s shared frantic kisses and burning touches in the last six years. It doesn’t feel the same with Yuuta right now, not quite. It is something more intense, something she cannot yet fathom, something she wishes she understood.

The second their eyes are locked on each other, it’s like she’s electrocuted, her body freezing at the sensation. 

“Oh, sorry,” she says, her voice sounding like she hasn’t spoken in years. A tiny red spot begins to form on his pale skin, where his chin made contact with her head earlier. “I was reaching out for a book. I didn’t see you there.”

The man, young enough to be around her age with a gaze softer than most, has an expression of a heartbroken man. He looks at her, pain fleeting across his face. 

His eyes… They remind her of the ocean before the storm. 

It’s not the color as they resemble more of a sapphire, like the freshly bloomed delphiniums after the rain. No, it’s the feeling, the way they glimmer under the soft evening light, calm and steady, but in a way, it emits sadness. Yearning. Heartbreak. The kind that makes him feel like he had been crushed, trapped inside a hurricane for so long, he was about to fade into the void. But there’s also hope beneath it, as if he was desperately looking for something, and he’s just a moment away from attaining it. Something tugs upon her heartstrings as he peers into her eyes, full of depths and secrets she longs to unveil. 

He looks like he’s about to cry, she thinks. There are no tears in sight, no quiver in his lips, and yet, to her…

“Are you… all right?” 

The man smiles ever so softly at her question, seemingly too kind to be genuinely coming from the heart, but she believes it. The quiet agony in his eyes has not yet dissipated, but he grows excellent at wearing his mask. 

“Yes, I’m fine.” His voice is rich and soft, breathy and tender when he speaks. “Are you?”

“Not my first time accidentally hitting someone from not paying attention to my surroundings, so yes,” she chuckles. Her pretty sounds stun him. The yearning he’s been trying to conceal shows vividly for a split second. It leaves her confused, worried that he got upset by her actions. “Again, sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologize. It was my fault. I should’ve kept my distance.”

She’s sure her eyes have never met him. Her mind doesn’t remember him. Her ears don’t recognize his voice, but she swears she’s seen him before, so much that it feels like he becomes gravity, drawing her to him.

She wants to reach out to him. Wants to know why he looks like he’s seconds away from breaking apart. Wants to ask him whether she’s said too much or too little. But he’s nothing but a stranger, and she doesn’t wish to step out of the line. “Were you also looking for a book?”

“Yes, umm…” He’s tall, taller than she’d expect someone who exudes such awkwardness would be. Compared to other men, he has a youthful look, but she has a hunch that he’s around her age, most likely in his late twenties. He points his finger toward a book on the shelf beside her. “That one.”

She follows his direction, smiling when she reads the title on its spine. “No wonder we bumped heads. I was aiming for the same book.”

“Oh, then, it’s fine,” he hurriedly says, pushing the book back toward her when she tries to hand it over. “You can take it.”

“No, please, go ahead. I’ve read this too many times already.”

“Me too, so—”

“I insist.” She presses the book to his chest, looking up at him. 

He looms before her, standing possibly over 180 centimeters tall that she has to tilt her head up to match his line of vision. She catches a whiff of his scent, the smell of soap and aftershave, thinly layered by cologne. Modest, pleasant, just like him as a whole. 

Despite the slight dark circles swelling under his eyes, he’s a handsome man with a face framed by strong jawlines, a sharp nose, and thick, silky black hair parted on the side. The ends of his strands were long enough to brush against the collar of his ivory turtle neck sweater. His brown coat compliments his pallid skin perfectly, and she can’t help but wonder whether his shoulders are just as broad underneath it. An argent necklace with a ring as his pendant dangles just a few inches above his heart, glinting in the same way as his silver watch under the fluorescent light of the room. When his lips curve up, his eyes do the opposite, drooping in a way that makes him seem younger, which leaves her confused as he also gives off the feeling that he might be older than he appears. 

What a beautiful person, a thought runs through her mind, one that she hastily dismisses before it reaches her tongue. “Take it as a form of my apology for bruising your chin,” she says with a slight grin.

His eyes widen just for a split second before a soft chuckle reverberates from his chest. When he speaks again, it’s almost like a whisper—like a secret never meant to be told, “I can never win against you, can I?”

She barely catches his words. “Sorry, what?”

“Nothing.” He clears his throat, tucking his chin to hide his eyes. “I, uhh… I was about to borrow this and grab some coffee. Would you care to join me? I’d love to talk to you more.” His body language indicates that he’s nervous, which she admits is endearing. There’s a momentary pause where she finds herself too busy marveling over his features, but he misunderstands. “I’m—I’m not a pervert or anything like that, I swear! I won’t do anything bad to you.”

She almost laughs. Who talks like that? “That sounds exactly like what a pervert would say.”

He gapes, face flushed. “No, I—” She loves seeing him struggle, so she lets him take his time, just watching him with amusement. He takes a breath, probably trying his best to slow down his soaring heart. “It’s just—it’s hard to find someone with a similar taste like mine and I, umm… I’d like to know you—I-I mean your taste in books—better.”

Usually, she’s not as gullible as to agree to a stranger’s offer, but meeting him somehow feels like reuniting with an old friend. It’s easier to trust him than to be suspicious of him. She wonders if it’s simply because of how affable he seems despite his awkwardness.

Her heart convulses. She knows how grabbing some coffee together tends to lead to something more, and seeing how shy and flustered he is standing in front of her, she’s sure he wants it to lead to something more. Her boyfriend’s name pops into her head, but her lips betray her before her brain can form a warning. “Sure, why not? Let’s prove my guts wrong,” she answers with a slight curve of her lips. “As long as you can tell me your name, that is.”

“Right, sorry.” She loves the sound he makes when he sheepishly chuckles, and she loves it more when it echoes louder in her ears. He offers his hand, stretching out his lean fingers. “I’m Yuuta.”

She expects it to be soft, just like the way he’s gazing at her, but his palm feels calloused against her own. “Yuuta…?”

“O-Okkotsu,” he finishes awkwardly as if he hadn’t spoken his surname in so long that he’d forgotten it.

“Pleasure to meet you, Yuuta Okkotsu.” When she replies to him with her name, he freezes, his eyes widening, shaking in disbelief.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No,” he answers, his expression melting into something warm, full of nostalgia. “It’s just... Your name sounds familiar to me.” She arches a brow, but he leaves her with no time to speak her curiosity. 

Calling her respectfully by her surname, he flashes a smile. “Shall we?” ***

Winter comes with a blush of the autumn time, ready to charm her soul and win her heart all over again, the way it always has since the first time she could remember cotton-like ice crystals falling gently across her window. The days, though shorter, remain clear and dry, as if they were already warmed by a sweet breath of spring even when the year has just begun. To her regret, the snow has yet refused to fall, but the way the city of Tokyo glows at night, with fairy lights wrapped around tree-lined streets, serves as a nice consolation.

 Stepping outside the library, she gazes toward the sky, expecting to be greeted by a blue evening sun, as if the rays would somehow be colder in these icy days, but, of course, it stays golden, divinely warm upon her chilled skin.

“Are you cold?” Yuuta questions as he watches puffs of her warm breaths lingering in the air. “Would you like my coat?”

“No, I’m fine.” All thanks to her wooly sweater. “That’s so nice of you, though. Offering a stranger your coat like that.” And honestly weird because who does that on a first meeting? She mulls to herself, though the thought doesn’t bother her as much as it should.

“I just…” Every time the word ’stranger’ comes flowing past her lips, it seems to hurt him somehow. “I thought you might need it.”

He’s being genuine, she can tell. The same way she can see just how red his cheeks are with the breeze biting too deeply into his skin. “I honestly think you need your coat more than me.”

“Ah,” he chuckles timidly. “Yeah, I’m not really good with cold weather.”

The thought of him all bundled up, sniffling from the wintry winds, enters her mind, making him look so adorable in her eyes. “We should hurry and get all warmed up then.”

They walk side by side, exchanging small conversations as they go. “Is winter your favorite season?” he asks.

“It is. I think it’s pretty. And it gives me the excuses I need to spend the whole day just keeping myself warm and cozy at the library, reading my favorite books. What about you? I suppose you hate it, huh?” 

“I don’t hate it.”

“You don’t? Even though you look like you’re about to freeze to death?”

He laughs softly to appreciate her jest. “No,” he smiles to himself. “I think I might have disliked it in the past, but my—” He stops, clearing his throat. “A friend of mine used to love it so much, so… I’ve grown to like it since then.” 

He said it like it was a secret he tried to repress, someone more meaningful than a friend. Her gaze drifts down to the silver ring hanging over his sweater. That looks like a wedding ring, she thinks, but it would’ve been weird, wouldn’t it? Let’s say he was indeed married; would he flirt with another woman while displaying his ring like this? Maybe he’s divorced? But why is he still wearing it? The thoughts swirl, but she keeps them solely in her mind. ***

Walking from the library to the nearest coffee shop only takes around ten minutes. By then, she’s caught on the little gestures Yuuta makes as he speaks: the way he forces himself to laugh a little when he notices he’s being too straightforward; the way he clears his throat when he feels like his words have more hidden meanings than they let on. She’s become aware of his passion and love for books, so strong that it can only be matched by her own. She’s learned about his dream, a novelist in the making, taking his first baby steps to turn it into reality.

“There’s the one,” she says, pointing a finger to a small yet cozy coffee shop on the corner of the main street, still a few meters ahead. “I don’t drink coffee but often drop by to get matcha lattes before work. They’re amazing.”

“You don’t drink coffee?” Despite his question, he doesn’t appear to be surprised by the fact. It was as if he already guessed it.

“Yeah, umm—” She loosens the collar of her sweater, her body heating up as embarrassment grows. I’d rather die than tell him that coffee upsets my stomach. “You know, the caffeine keeps me awake.”  

“Ah, yes. Of course.” 

It’s probably just her fear and shame playing tricks on her mind, but she swears she sees a little knowing smile forming on his lips. She refuses to acknowledge it for the sake of her heart.

“Oh, hold on.” Yuuta suddenly quickens, taking a couple of strides ahead of her. He pulls on the doorknob, holding the door open. Any other man would do it to leave a good impression. Yuuta does it because he’s raised to do so, a gentleman to his core.

“Thanks,” her sheepish smile causes joy to bloom like roses on his face. 

They step inside the shop, instantly surrounded by wafts of the warm, welcoming blend of coffee beans and caramel. A young female performs a love song on the stage with a pink acoustic guitar perched on her lap, a shade that matches her cotton candy hair. The queue of people desperately needing warm coffees in the chilly evening is longer than she expected. She doesn’t find the heart to change places, however, knowing how Yuuta has been secretly hiding his face behind his scarf, seeking warmth whenever he thought she wasn’t looking (she caught him in the act every time but kept quiet about it for his sake). 

Maybe it’s better if we stay. “Do you mind if we wait in line for a bit?”

“Not at all,” he replies.

 And so they wait, standing side by side, trading secret glances and diffident smiles. 

A staff slides open the display shelf beside her, placing a fresh batch of chocolate pastries and strawberry cakes under the fluorescent light. Saliva pools in her mouth almost immediately. The savory cream, the strawberry fillings in between layers, and—

“You can go ahead and take a seat if you want,” Yuuta offers, swaying her away from her stupor. “I’ll place an order for us.”

“Huh? Oh, no, I can wait here with you. It’s fine.”

“It’s still gonna take a while.” He briefly looks at the six people ahead of them, worried. “You sure?”

She skims through her options quickly. An open spot in the corner would be perfect for them to talk, a safe distance from the live music playing on the stage and the gossiping crowd. “But I’d feel bad,” she speaks her concerns.

“This is nothing,” he assures. “What would you like to have? I know you’re fond of their matcha lattes, but I saw the board, and it says it’s not available right now.”

“What?” She takes a quick view of the handwritten menu on the blackboard. “Oh, you’re right,” she mumbles regretfully, noticing that even a simple matcha tea is crossed out. Great, what should I get? Will I look childish if I ask for hot cocoa with s’mores? Yeah, probably. “What are you getting?”

“Black coffee.”

And, of course, he had to be an adult and choose that, she nearly pouts. Now, I’m definitely going to sound like a kid.

“What about hot chocolate?” he suggests. When she reciprocates with a frown, surprised at how easily he reads her mind, Yuuta quickly adds, “Sorry, it’s just… You look like you have a sweet tooth.”

“Excuse me?”

“I—I saw you staring at the cakes before, so, umm… Sorry if I jumped to conclusions.”

“Oh, wow, that’s embarrassing,” she forces out a faint laugh to mask her shame. “You caught me drooling.”

“No—it’s cute, really!” It’s even more mortifying now that he’s trying to comfort her about it. “I like cakes too. Chocolate ones, mostly. But also the strawberry ones, they’ve been growing on me lately—” he abruptly stops. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. God, I’m sorry.”

She watches him turn flustered, just for a second before she fails to suppress her giggles from escaping. “You caught me drooling, and now you’re panicking about oversharing. We’re a bunch of idiots, aren’t we?” 

The string of her adorable peals of laughter causes his gaze to soften, his eyes turning melancholic as if he were witnessing a memory unveiled before him. She notices him staring—adoring, really, like it’s a habit of hers he’s grown to love for years. Such a weird thing for a stranger to do. 

“You haven’t changed at all,” he says under his breath, or at least she thinks so. She must have heard it wrong.

“All right,” she says, straightening down her sweater. “I’m going to be useful and find ourselves a table before I further make a fool out of myself. I’ll have a slice of that strawberry cake, please.”

“Noted. And your drink?”

“I’ll have what you have.”

“Coffee? But—”

She strides away before he can finish. 

Leaving him standing on the line, she catches him shaking his head from the corner of her eyes, chuckling to himself.

Yuuta arrives at her table a moment later, carrying a tray filled with their orders. “Sorry for making you wait.”

“Sorry for making you wait,” she says, proffering her gratitude with a smile. “Alone.”

“It’s fine,” he mirrors her expression. “Here’s your order.”

“What is this?” She questions as he places down a plate filled with strawberry cake—two slices, with extra frosting and fresh strawberries on top. “Are you trying to make me fat?”

He laughs, his hands busy settling the cups on the wooden table. “I thought you might be hungry after all the waiting.”

“It literally was only fifteen minutes.”

“Well, then, maybe we can share?” he asks, slightly hopeful, before his shyness gets the best of him again. “O-only if you’re comfortable.”

“Please, I’d love to—” She stops, noticing the two cups of hot chocolate—with s’mores—sitting between them. “Wait.”

“Oh, umm,” Yuuta straightens himself on his seat; his posture reminds her of an employee preparing himself to be scolded by the chief. “You said you’ll have what I have, so I got you the same one.”

“Yeah, but didn’t you say you were gonna have black coffee?”

“Did I?” He does it again, emitting that unique laugh of his to hide his discomfort. “Well, uhh, caffeine keeps me awake, so… I changed my mind.”

She squinted her eyes. “You’re actually a lot cheekier than you look, aren’t you?”

He sweats, hastily taking a sip of his drink. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

It’s her turn to shake her head this time, all in amusement. “Well, thank you. For being so considerate.”

With a juvenile glee, he replies, “Don’t mention it.” ***

“Have you thought about what kind of story you plan to write?” She asks as she slides her cup closer to her side. Now that she’s finished tasting some of the s’mores with her spoon, a lovely shade of cocoa shimmers inside, glazed with foam and melted marshmallows. “Is it porn?”

Yuuta chokes on his drink, spilling a bit of chocolate down his chin. 

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry.” She promptly snatches some tissues for him, almost dabbing his mouth herself as some of it threatens to spill onto his shirt. Thank goodness he managed to wipe it off just in time. 

“It’s not porn,” he coughs out, his eyes glassy with tears.

“Yeah, no, of course. I was just kidding.” She checks on him, her forehead creasing with concern. “Are you okay? Did some of it get into your nose?”

“I’m fine,” he sniffles, trying his best to smile without wincing.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry. You’re just so stiff; I thought I’d ease you up with a joke.” She half-grimaces, half-grins at him. “Guess it’s working?”

“Guess it is. A little.” When he chuckles, she feels an inkling of joy. It doesn’t take long before Yuuta’s little laughter becomes one of her favorite sounds in the world. “Sorry for being so jumpy all the time. Old habit.”

“Not used to talking to strangers?”

“Not like this, no. You’re my first.”

Something warm and pleasant grows inside her chest, but she chooses to ignore it. “Well, consider me honored. So,” she sips her drink, “Your story?”

“Oh, uhh… I plan to write a romance novel.” 

“Romance? That’s surprising.”

“How so?” 

“Hmm, not sure why, but I see you more as someone who writes crime stories. You know, writing from experience, that sort of thing.”

He pouts. It’s adorable. “Because of the way I behave?”

“Because of the way you behave.” She returns to another good-natured chaff. “Also, because you seem… I don’t know, there’s something strange about you.”

Yuuta falls into silence, just for a moment. A reaction she didn’t see coming. “Strange how?”

“Like…” She peers into his eyes, and there it is again. The way he stares at her. The way he tends to express pensive sadness as if he’s been trying to convey something to her—something really important—but she’s not listening. He doesn’t seem suspicious to her, not in the slightest. But he gives her the same feeling she feels when she encounters a mystery in the book, one that she can’t wait to be resolved at the end of the story. Why do you seem so familiar? She ponders before she shakes the thoughts away. “I can’t point my finger at it just yet.” 

His shoulders sag. For some reason, her answer disappoints him. 

She straightens up on her seat, her lips tilting up on their own to cheer him up. “Perhaps I’ll figure it out once we finish our drinks.”

Yuuta smiles, too, but it lacks the same warmth. There’s something he’s not telling. “I hope so,” he says. If there was a hidden message beneath it, she missed it.

Feeling a tad awkward, she taps her fingers against the sides of her cup. “So, a romance novel, huh? I never would’ve pegged you as a romantic if you didn’t tell me.” 

Anything that he wants to say, he swallows it all down to himself. “Well, it’s supposed to be more than just a romance story. It has a supernatural element to it. Borderline fantasy.”

“Like what?”

He takes a few seconds before he responds quietly with a secretive smile. “I guess you’ll just have to read to find out.”

“Cheapskate.” She purses your lips. “Is it going to have a happy ending?”

“Well, they’ll be separated by death in the end—”

“Hey! Spoiler alert!”

He cringes, “Sorry.” 

“I can’t believe you said, ’You’ll just have to read to find out,’ and then dropped this bomb on me.”

Yuuta chortles, very light, very charming. “I just wanted to make it sound interesting, I guess. I thought you’d do well with sad stories.”

“Well, yes, angst is my cup of tea. It wasn’t before, but I read this heartwrenching book once, and it’s been growing on me ever since.” She then notices something. “That’s a good guess, though.” She throws a joke, “Were you able to tell because I have this constant miserable look on my face—”

“You’re beautiful.” 

She freezes. His line comes out so suddenly, true, but it doesn’t stagger her as much as the way he speaks it. He says it not as a compliment but as the truth. He conveys it so smoothly, but not because he’s used to flirting. His eyes still shake as they stare at her. The slight crack in his voice is one of the tiny proofs of how nervous he is around her. And yet, these words sound so natural in her ears, as if he’d said that to her a thousand times before. 

And it feels like she’s heard it. A thousand times before.

“I… Sorry.” He settles himself on his seat, his cheek blossoming in red when he scratches it with his finger. “I didn’t mean to cut you off. It’s just… You don’t look miserable or anything, you’re… You’re gorgeous.” He can’t meet her gaze. She’s the blazing sun, and he’s a man who’s never stepped out during daylight. “Ah, what am I saying,” he mumbles, only for his ears to hear. She can tell he wishes his seat could swallow him whole. He’s embarrassed, terribly so, that he practically has one hand covering his face. 

“Umm… Thanks.” That’s all she can say because how else could she answer him when he acts like he just made a love confession? Trying to keep it light, she adds, “You’re giving out that suspicious vibe again.”

He claws against his jean-clad thighs, feeling even smaller. “S-sorry…”

“I’m kidding!” She exclaims, flashing her biggest smile. “I appreciate the compliment, truly. Thank you, Yuuta.”

He stops breathing at the sound of his name escaping her mouth. She realizes it’s the first time she’s said it, and seeing how his shoulders turn tense, she begins to worry. “Sorry, I accidentally called you by your first name. I hope that’s not rude?”

“N-no, it’s all right,” he says, pink flames bursting in his cheeks again. He fiddles with his fingers, bashfully adding, “I… actually prefer you call me that way.”

“Oh…” There’s probably no limit to how adorable he can be. “Well then, you can call me by my first name, too.”

The way joy sparks instantly in his eyes is blatant proof that he’s been waiting for the chance, but he shakes his head, too shy to take it. “No, I… I shouldn’t.”

His choice of words leaves her puzzling over it. Not can’t. Shouldn’t. He’s not shy. He’s refraining himself. But for what? “And if I insist?” She asks.

He nibbles on his lower lip, avoiding her gaze, and maybe he’ll do it, just for her sake, but it won’t feel right, will it? 

“Never mind, it’s fine,” she comforts him. “You can call me whatever you want. I don’t mind.”

Yuuta seems relieved, thanking her in silence with little nods.

“So, what happened to them? The lovers in your story.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to spoil it.”

“You can’t just say something like they’re dying and then not tell me about it.”

He awkwardly laughs. “If you insist, I can give you a hint later, but you’ll have to imagine the rest.”

“Then tell you about it? What if you steal my idea?” She raises an eyebrow, smirking. “I happen to have a very creative imagination, you see.”

“I promise you I won’t,” he answers so thoughtfully that she almost feels sorry for teasing him. “I’ve finished writing my version of it. I’ll let you see it after you tell me yours.”

“Huh, interesting.” She pretends she’s rethinking her decision, just to get him a little hopeful and nervous about it. “Deal, why not.”

His eyes are filled with excitement. “Does that mean we’ll see each other again?”

She wants to poke fun at him again by saying ’maybe,’ but Yuuta resembles an overjoyed puppy waiting for a stroll. She doesn’t have the heart to do it. “Well, I do have to go back to the library to return the book, so… Yes.” 

His lips parted in the brightest smile, his eyes glimmering in delight. “Then, next week. I’ll see you again next week. Same time?”

Like a disease, his glee is contagious, sending ripples of joy inside her. “All right. But be sure to keep your chin away from my head next time.”

He titters, “I’ll try.”

They exchange stares, sharing sheepish smiles. She breaks away first, bringing her focus back to her drink. It has grown slightly cold over the passing minutes, but the sugary taste has become quite an addiction.

“I’ve never seen you in the library before,” Yuuta mentions. “Was today your first time visiting?”

“No. I’ve been going there almost every day for the last month, but I usually visit in the morning. I just moved to a new company, you see, and my office building is nearby. I walk past the library every day, and since my shift starts late, I often drop by before work to read for an hour or two. My apartment is pretty small, so it feels a bit cramped. That’s why I enjoy spending more time outside.”

“You’re spending your weekends in the library too?” He wonders aloud.

She playfully narrows her eyes at him. “Why does it feel like I’m being judged here?”

“No!” He panics. “I just thought that—that you’d have friends inviting you out or, y-you know.”

“Well, I’m not really one to party,” she chuckles to ease his anxiety. “I don’t do well with crowds. It feels better to have a one-on-one conversation like this. More meaningful.” 

He’s a mystery, but in some ways, he’s also an open book. Every time her word delights him, it shows. “Me too.”

She smiles, but it slowly drops as she swirls her spoon, watching the little whirlpool she creates inside the cup. “But it’s also because… Well, I can’t read at home.”

“May I ask why?” 

“I have a boyfriend who works from home, so he’s always there with me.”

Yuuta’s fingers stop tapping against the surface of the coffee table but it’s too fast for her to notice before he starts again. “I see,” he replies. The smile on his lips never falters; the one in his eyes does. “Is he a lively person?”

“Very,” she sighs. “And loud. It’s hard to focus on your book when you have a grown man either swearing at his computer screen for probably twelve hours a day or snoring throughout the morning like he wants the whole town to hear it.” She catches herself. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to vent. He’s nice, I care about him a lot, it’s just… I need some time for myself. Somewhere quiet.”

It doesn’t last long, but she senses it, the changes in his expression. It feels like she just said something terribly hurtful to the point that she feels like apologizing for it.

Maybe he notices her noticing, which is why he tries to mask his feelings better with a broader smile that does reach his eyes this time. “And that’s why you chose to visit a library.”

“Yeah. I mean, I could go to a book cafe, but…” She shrugs. “I don’t really like it. Too modern, too… many people just taking selfies instead of actually reading, you know?” 

That earns her a chuckle. “But why here, specifically? There are many new ones in town. Bigger ones, too. This place is pretty old and dusty.”

“Can’t argue with that,” she nods, sighing. “This is going to sound dumb, but that library feels nostalgic to me. The first time I stepped inside, I felt like I’d spent all my life there. It was like I had memories there—just sitting on that old couch, reading books, enjoying the silence. It just feels familiar, you know? Even more comforting than being in my room. It’s weird, but I can only feel at ease when I read there.” Yuuta stays so quiet that she has to lift her head and meet his gaze to understand a glimpse of what goes through his head. His face is solemn, undecipherable. “What about you? What’s your reason, Yuuta?”

He drags his eyes away from hers, fixing them on the interlaced fingers around his cup. The light in his eyes slightly dims as he turns pensive. 

“It’s just closer to my place.”

***

“Hey, Bunny,” her boyfriend of six years, Satoru Gojo, chirps from the bedroom. It’s not so much of a warm greeting, not anymore, not like how it used to be. The pet name he calls her now feels just like another word. All the fluttering butterflies in her stomach seem to have died, along with his welcome home hugs and I’ve missed you kisses. 

Judging from his voice, he must have a cherry lollipop stuck in his mouth, another replacement for his cigarette. He used to be addicted to it back in college, influenced by his best friends—Suguru and Shoko. His room smelled like one whenever she visited it for… well, a ’study date’ he used to call it. She had asked him to stop smoking countless times in the past and nagged about it for two years as she grew worried over his health, but each complaint fell on deaf ears. Satoru only stopped a couple of months ago, breaking the news to her with a grin, saying, “I did this for you, babe. Aren’t you proud of me?” And she smiled at him, she always did, even as she stared at Suguru’s face among the pictures he had on his nightstand, reminded of the truth. Satoru didn’t do it because of her, and he most certainly didn’t do it for her. He just didn’t want to end up collapsing from heart disease like Suguru did. That’s all there is. And that got her thinking. 

When was the last time her boyfriend did something for her? Or listened to her? Or noticed something different about her hair or the new dress she wore? 

She styled her hair for him. She bought a new toothbrush before he asked for his to be replaced. She decorated her apartment in his favorite color on the day he moved in, eagerly wanting to make him feel comfortable, but every piece of furniture and accessories he bought after always had the same shade. He thought it was her favorite color, too. He never asked, just assumed, which summed up her entire relationship with him. 

It never occurred to him that she did everything for his sake, for his pleasure, for his happiness, because he never thought of doing something solely for her sake. Satoru was always about me and us, but never you. “This color is nice, isn’t it, babe?” It wasn’t, but she smiled again, never letting him know that his favorite color was the color she hated the most.

But maybe it’s just her fault. 

Maybe she’s put herself in this situation for not being honest, for always keeping her thoughts to herself, for always agreeing with him instead of saying what she wants. It’s just… She’s tired. Tired of fighting over minor differences,  tired of worrying that her protest would lead to a bigger fight, one that would drain them emotionally and damage their relationship for good. But she couldn’t help but think how nice it would be if he were, at least, considerate enough to ask. 

Back when they first dated, Satoru was everything she could ask for. He knew how to keep her standing on her toes. He was driven by impulse. Exciting. Unforgettable. 

Those late-night drives on his motorcycle when she spent hours laughing at his stories with her hands settled deep inside his leather jacket…

Those weekends they spent traveling together to a country where none of them spoke the language, wandering around with no map in their hands, sharing heavy kisses in an abandoned alley, and drunk-dancing to songs sung by strangers… 

And those nights when he would have her body speak to him in ways that only he allowed, her head swirling in ecstasy as she succumbed to his naughty smirks and experienced hands. It was fun. 

So what changed?

“Lend me one of your earphones. I want to know what song you’re listening to.”

“You’re a bit quiet today. What’s wrong?”

“Let’s watch this movie again. You seemed to enjoy it a lot when we saw it at the cinema.”

“I like it when you wear your hair down like this. It looks nice.”

These words… Did he use to say them to her in the past? She can no longer remember, but she forces herself to believe that, yes, he did, he said them all the time. It’s a terrible way to deceive her mind so her feelings for him remain the same. It’s a pathetic way to convince herself that his feelings for her remain the same.

“Hey,” she replies to his greeting, even when he’s nowhere to be seen.

“You’re late.” Satoru, like always, has his fingers running on his keyboards. His magnetic blue eyes are locked to his computer screen, probably have been for the past few hours. She wonders if he even looked up to see her when he heard her footsteps earlier. Most likely not. “Did you get the puddings I asked you?”

“Yes. I put them in the fridge.” 

“Okay, cool.”

No ’thank you’ but what was she expecting anyway?

She removes her coat and unwraps her scarf from her neck before moving toward the living room. She can’t remember what or who initiated it, but it has been almost a year since he started living in her apartment. She remembers how he used to spend just one night at her place on the weekend, then two when he felt a bit needy for her touch. Before she knew it, his personal belongings were scattered all over the place—his hoodie on the couch, his towel hanging on the bathroom door, his toothbrush on her sink. Satoru could be spending the entire week at her place, only taking a short trip back to his apartment once he ran out of comic books to read. The changes just came so naturally that she didn’t notice at first, but by the time she did, it was too late to even bring the topic to the table. 

So she decided to turn her apartment into a home, making it official that they’d moved in together, reshaping it into a place where both she and he could be comfortable and adjusting plenty of things to his needs. Satoru didn’t notice the effort, let alone appreciate it. And now she’s starting to count the days when he’ll eventually stop noticing her as well.

Being with Satoru was easy, casual, and he gave her more reasons to laugh over little things than anyone else. During the first two months of living together, they acted like newlyweds, with him peppering kisses on her face whenever she arrived home from work. Unlike her, Satoru is a freelancer who does most of his work at home. He used to be considerate enough to do some chores for her—cooking, cleaning the bathroom, and sometimes even doing her laundry when he felt like he’d been neglecting her. Whenever she arrived late, he’d always have something prepared for her, beaming at her with a infectious grin while chiming, “Oh, finally, you’re here! I’ve been waiting for you for hours, and I’m starving like crazy. Today’s dish is your favorite, so let’s hurry and eat!”

Unlike him, she appreciated his effort. Each and every one of them. It didn’t feel one-sided then, unlike now.

Satoru used to be perfect, more perfect than anyone else, but then she realizes that he was just trying to impress. Impress her, impress his colleagues, impress his teachers. And now, maybe he doesn’t feel the need to impress her any longer. Nor does he want to.

She was happy, but things are bound to change, and happiness doesn’t last forever. It started slow, almost unnoticeable, with him forgetting to kiss her good night before bed and her treating the fact that he no longer paid attention to what she was wearing as normal. Nowadays, he doesn’t have enough affection to greet her with his smile—one that used to shine brighter than the sun. Comforting hugs and welcome kisses are long forgotten.

It’s lonely, but it’s fine. He’s still here. Satoru is still hers as much as she is his.

It’s fine.

As she rests on the couch, her fingers brush against the book she borrowed from the library the other day. Her mind drifts back to the stranger she met, her smile growing so naturally on her lips at the memory.

Satoru walks out of the bedroom with a yawn, one hand rubbing against the back of his head while the other slips underneath his shirt to scratch the itch on his stomach. He’s stopped minding about his appearance in front of her a long time ago, wearing and doing whatever he feels comfortable with, unbothered by what runs through her mind. She never speaks up anyway. With an enervated “hey,” he enters the bathroom, never stopping to ask her about her day, though she doesn’t really expect him to do so. 

A brief moment later, he returns with his eyes still bleary despite his attempt to wash his face. Noticing his messy silver hair and the black shirt he’s been wearing since yesterday, she follows him to the bedroom, asking, “Have you taken a shower today?”

“Nope,” he answers, plopping himself back to his gaming chair, his eyes locked on his computer screen. “I was busy. Had a meeting with a client this morning.”

She takes a glance at the digital clock on his desk. “But it’s already eight-thirty.”

“Thought I could shower with you today.” He flaunts his cheeky grin, catching her off guard. She didn’t expect him to say something like that, but then again, now that she noticed, it’s been almost two weeks since they last had sex.

She’s exhausted from work. Her body is aching. “I see. Well, I’m about to take a shower now.”

“Like now now?” He hisses when his character on screen takes damage from his opponent. “I’m still playing. Tomorrow morning, then?”

“Sure,” she says, just for the sake of conversation. She already can tell it won’t happen. She has to leave early for work, and Satoru would rather die than wake up at seven in the morning. 

“Hey, umm… I met someone yesterday.” She reaches out to stroke his hair. It’s so soft and fluffy, like a dog’s fur, even when the strands point in every direction. If there was one thing that hadn’t changed, it was how she still found it calming to just card her fingers through them. A habit that she did often in the past as he loved falling asleep with his head on her lap while she indulged herself with her favorite book. The feelings are the same, only his reaction isn’t. He used to lean into her touch as a kitten would. Now, he doesn’t even spare her a glance. “Satoru… Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah, one sec.” He smashes more buttons before he slides down his headphones, letting them rest on his neck. “What’s up?”

“I met someone yesterday. At the library.”

“O… kay?” He knits his eyebrows, confused. “What’s that gotta do with me? Someone I know?”

Surprise blinks in her chest at first, followed quickly by disappointment and then acceptance. Another piece of her heart still breaks, but she’s grown used to the feeling. “No, I just… I don’t know, I thought you should know.”

He snorts, holding back a laugh. “Honey, I’m not keeping you locked up in here. You’re allowed to meet anyone you want. Don’t need to report everything back to me.”

She refrains herself from chewing on her lip. “You’re right. Sorry for bothering you.”

“Baby, of course you’re not bothering me,” he coos, poking her playfully in her stomach. “I’m just saying that ’cause you made it sound like a big deal.”

“Yeah,” she replies, careful not to sound too cold. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Satoru smiles before he spins on his chair, returning to his game. “Who was it?” He asks, fingers running fast over the keys. “It’s not a man, is it?”

She pauses. “Yes…”

He stops tapping, only for a second. “Is he hot?”

“Well, he’s not ugly.”

“Then don’t get too close to him.”

Satoru is the jealous type. He has always been. He’s far from controlling, but his possessiveness often feels suffocating. Or, at least… It used to be. And that was fine. It made her happy to know someone out there liked her so much he didn’t want to share her with anyone else. She felt wanted. Needed. But not today. 

Today, although his words weigh heavily on her, she can tell they weren’t born from his affection for her—if there was even still any of it left. She is his belonging, his possession, and he’s a lion guarding his territory. That’s it.

And that’s… fine, too. At least he still cared.

“I won’t,” she answers, as she should. “I won’t get too close to him.” She repeats it, this time for her own ears, to remind herself.

“Good,” he says, dismantling their tension as easily as a moth shreds its wings. He flashes her a grin with that youthful sparkle in his eyes. “Then we don’t have anything to worry about.” Satoru returns his full attention to the screen, not caring if she’s still standing in the room, waiting for him to care more about her than the man he suspects is eager to snatch her away.

“What will we be having for dinner?” She asks him while he’s busy shouting foul words to his screen.

“Jesus—left, you moron!” He groans loudly into the air before turning around, finally realizing she’s waiting for his answer. “What? Oh.” He pops the lollipop out of his mouth. “I just had some take-outs.”

“You didn’t wait for me?”

“I was dead hungry, but I ordered some for you, too. It’s probably cold now, but you can heat it.”

“Can you do that for me, please? I love it when you add more seasonings to it.” 

“Bunny, you know I’d love to do that, but,” he smiles apologetically before his fingers dance across his keyboards again, “I’m in the middle of something here. There’s an event going on, and these assholes literally won’t let me take a break. Listen, I’ll cook for you tomorrow, I promise.”

She has stopped believing in his promises, or at least doesn’t allow herself to believe in them anymore. She’s learned that the best way to avoid disappointment is to not expect anything.

She smiles back, pushing his hair away so she can land a kiss on his temple. She refuses to say a word no matter how much her bottled-up feelings are about to burst.

Because she knows silence is what keeps their relationship alive. 

***

That following night, Yuuta appeared in her dream.

Standing on the small row between bookshelves with a small feather duster in hand, she found him entering the door to her library—one that bore an uncanny resemblance to the place she often visited in reality. 

He seemed much, much younger than the version she knew, maybe by ten years or so. He had more tan on his skin, his hair a little shorter, color’s a shade darker. He was dressed in an old-fashioned way, like a young English man from the 1940s, with his white buttoned-up shirt, suspenders, and a beige coat that was a couple of sizes bigger than it was supposed to be. Nevertheless, he looked just as breathtakingly handsome as in real life.

Yuuta took off his wool-felt fedora hat, greeting her with a polite bow the moment their eyes met. He was just as timid and awkward; his cobalt eyes never stayed long enough to be locked with hers, but they were honest—the way they shimmered in adoration at the sight of her, painted with both suppressed desire and affection.

He called her with a name—a surname, she assumed, one that she didn’t recognize, but it didn’t feel quite as strange in her ears as it should have been. It was the first time she heard it, and yet, it almost felt like it was her own.

Her body went on autopilot, words flowing from her mouth before she could process the situation. It was like she was residing in someone else’s body, just a bystander. “Good morning to you, too,” she said, bowing her head.“Okkotsu-sama.”

He displayed a mix between a smile and a wince. “Must you refer to me in such a way again?”

“Well, I thought we’d agreed to call each other by our names yesterday,” she heard herself correcting him in a playful manner. “But someone seemed to change his mind.”

He fidgeted a little, his cheeks smeared with scarlet. “I’m… I’m feeling rather embarrassed.”

“If you feel embarrassed calling me, a commoner, by my name, how do you think I feel to be addressing a young nobleman such as yourself without any honorifics as you requested?” 

“Well, I…” Unable to compose a retort, Yuuta sighed in defeat, though his amusement was still sketched vividly on his face. “You’re quite stubborn, aren’t you? We’ve only met for a few days, but I already can see myself never winning an argument against you.”

“Well, isn’t it nice to lose sometimes?” She tossed him a smirk, returning half of her attention to continue swabbing the dust off the shelves. “You already have everything you want under your feet, after all. I think it’ll serve as a nice change.”

“Not everything,” he said, staring at her fondly, like a young boy captivated by a lovely dancer on stage. A thousand messages remained unspoken, and yet, with butterflies swirling in her stomach, she could somehow read each one.

“Maybe not yet,” she said, a glimmer of seduction on her lips. 

He gulps. 

Taking off his coat and letting it hang loosely on one arm, Yuuta shortened the distance between them with nervous steps. They chatted for a bit, feeling grateful that it was still quite early in the morning for other patrons to visit. It was easy to melt the ice between them, but only because she knew how, and watching him loosen up around her filled her with some sort of achievement. 

Sometimes, when their conversation died for a few seconds of comforting silence, she’d catch him looking at her with a half-dazed look on his face.

“What is it?” she asked, despite already knowing the answer. “You’re staring again.”

“Oh, umm…” Though mortified, he still used the chance to confess. “I just thought… You look beautiful today.” He sported a soft smile, one that melted her heart the same way his roseate cheeks did. It was also, she realized, the same one that bore the exact look like the one she saw in real life. 

“Why, thank you,” she replied, a hint of teasing in her voice. “Hopefully, you’re not implying I didn’tlook beautiful yesterday.” 

He blanched. “No, of course not! You’re always beautiful! Ever since I first saw you, you’ve always… been…” At the sight of her covering her smile behind her hand, he exhaled in relief, resting his hat on his chest. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, putting her duster away before dismantling her apron. “Now, if you’d follow me, Okkotsu-sama, I will show you where—” 

He cut her off with a gentle call of her name—her first name—and it staggered her to her feet. Her body might come to a halt because of how lovely her name sounded in his voice—in that sweet tone of his—but her heart froze because it was her name that rolled off his tongue. Her actual name.

That was when she realized: the person who she believed to be a stranger, was herself. And it had occurred all the time in her other dreams, yes, but this one felt… real. 

“T-there,” he stammered, flushed. “I called you by your name. Can you please stop addressing me that way now?”

She felt her lips curving upward. Her voice had never sounded as sweet as  it was when she said, “Yuuta.”

His blush unfurled from his neck to his cheekbones, like red tulip burgeoning on pure white snow. “Thank—” he stopped to swallow his breath, unable to maintain his gaze. “Thank you.”

Tittering lightly at his behavior, she took him by the hand. “Shall we?” 

She guided him further inside the library, introducing one title after another with her fingertips dancing between books. They weren’t as dusty as they were in her reality, the titles far from familiar to her eyes. Weird, she thought, as she was confident that she had memorized most of the books sitting on that particular shelf. Even when she’d visited the library earlier that morning before her shift started, her eyes had roamed along the same section. 

“Which book would you like to read today, Yuu?”

He still grew adorably tense every time his name slipped through her lips,  especially like that, but he was getting used to it. “I’m—I’m not yet sure. Will you choose one for me?”

“Hmm…” She tapped her chin. “Unfortunately, I have a peculiar taste when it comes to books—”

“I trust you,” Yuuta said, smiling a tad wider than before, perfect teeth peeking behind soft red lips. 

“Well then…” She stood on her toes to reach the book she’d been excited to show him all day. “Shall we start with this one?”

The vision ended without her knowing what book it was or the line between her dream and reality. They stood out so vividly—the scenery, his expressions, the lines she’d exchanged with him—that it took her a few good minutes to convince herself that it was just a dream and not a memory.

She couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. 

***

Her dream follows her every step like a shadow, even in her wake.

Saturday comes, and she finds herself in the library again, just as she promised him. Compared to what she’s seen in her dream, this place is indeed old, with walls standing in dire need of being repainted and books collecting more specks of dust than they have readers flipping through their pages. But the faint smell of sandalwood combined with the orange tint of sunlight sneaking through the windows is always calming. Crowds don’t gather much around here—maybe four or five people at most—and the tranquility consoles her. There’s only a soft thrum of acoustic guitar playing through the speakers that keep her company—

“You’re looking for this one?”

—and Yuuta.

“Yes, indeed, my good sir.” She takes the book from his hand. “Thank goodness we didn’t have to bump heads today.”

“Well, I’d promised you not to,” he chuckles. “Though I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

He’s wearing spectacles today, round glasses adding a layer of maturity to his youthful face. Combined with his long brown coat accentuating his height, he looks even more handsome, her stomach tingling whenever his eyes flicker back toward hers. He tilts his head slightly to the side, one eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tries to read her expression. “Is there something wrong? You’re staring at me. I-is it my joke? Was that rude? Please don’t take it the wrong way—”

“No, calm down,” she can’t help but giggle despite being embarrassed for getting caught in the act. “Sorry, I was just staring because of your, umm… height.” It is true, though not completely.

“My height?”

“Yeah. Must be nice being so tall, huh? I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach it, and I still needed your help.”

He blinks, noticeably surprised, though she’s not sure whether it’s her grumbling or her childish pout that bewilders him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he says, returning to his gentle smile. “I just… didn’t think you’d say that.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean you specifically. You just remind me of my boyfriend.” He seems surprised, yet again, but instead of restoring his smile, this time he turns quiet. She feels the need to explain. “He’s so tall, you see. Taller than you, even. And he always makes fun of me for my height, like moving my coffee cups to a higher shelf just so he can watch me beg him for help. He’s a bit of a prankster.”

Yuuta chews on the inside of his cheek, tucking his chin. “I wouldn’t have made fun of you,” he says quietly after a moment of confusing silence. “I will never make fun of you.”

The sudden solemnity in his voice feels heavy on her ears. “You don’t think I’m short?”

“I  think you’re perfect.” He lifts his face, suddenly blurting out his words like he’s in a debate he desperately tries to win. Staggered by it, she can only stare. He turns flushed. “I—I mean, being short makes you look cute, like a child. N-not saying I’m into kids—I’m not a pedophile, I swear—”

“That sounds exactly like what a pedophile would say.”

His jaw drops. A giggle escapes her. And when she laughs, he does it too, the sound so warm and comforting that it makes her feel like she’s sitting in front of a cozy fireplace.

She returns her gaze to the shelf. “So, Okkotsu-san,” she teases, “which book would you like to read today? Can’t be this one ’cause I got it first,” she grins, lifting the book she held in her arms.

“Which you only got because of my help.”

“True, but the point still stands.”

Her childishness never fails to amuse him. “Hmm, I’m not yet sure. Will you choose one for me?”

She freezes, her heartstrings playing a familiar symphony. She opens her mouth, hesitates, but then decides to say what her memory tells her to do, “Unfortunately, I have a peculiar taste when it comes to books—”

“I trust you.”

From skipping a beat to racing twice as fast, her heart feels foreign in her own chest. “Umm… Okay.”

Yuuta tilts his head, examining her. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. I just remembered something, uhh, something to do at home. Later. Anyway,” she hastily averts her gaze, her eyebrows tied in a knot as she tries to understand is this what deja vu feels like? She searches for a book, trying to be at ease despite her stomach swirling uneasily. “Shall we start with this one?”

Yuuta’s frown stays for only a second longer before he breaks into another smile. “Sure.” 

***

Weekdays are reserved for Satoru, but weekends…

Weekends are the days when her heart can finally dance and smile and live. And every song starts and ends with his name: Yuuta.

Satoru always has plans every weekend, plans that don’t involve her, not anymore. She did this to herself, mostly by declining his offers to mingle with his friends and co-workers until, eventually, he stopped asking. It’s not that she doesn’t want to go; she just no longer has the energy to keep up with hours of his social life when all she does is sit at the corner, doing nothing but sip on her drink and waste her phone battery to pass the time. 

Satoru’s friends are nice, but they don’t really resonate with her in the way she would love it to be. Shoko smokes too much. Suguru judges her taste in anything behind his angelic, saccharine smile. Haibara is exceptionally energetic that he tires her simply by looking at him. Mei Mei visits the girls’ bathroom once every twenty minutes to check on her little brother, and Nanami… Well, Nanami is all right. They could spend hours just grousing over how terrible it was being a corporate slave, but he’s not there often, taking away the small chance she has to make herself visible. Satoru would bring her into conversation occasionally, but as soon as he got a nod or two, he’d focus on Suguru, who, for some reason, always knew how to ruffle his feathers.

So, the routine starts. Friday nights are for his co-workers. Saturdays are for his college mates. And Sundays… Well, Sundays are supposed to be filled with breakfast in bed and bodies tangled under the sheets with her, but Satoru has forgotten his promise a long time ago, using them to regain all the sleep hours he’s been missing the days before instead of having some quality time to catch up with his lover. But it’s fine. She’s learned how to make the best of her time, finding companies in books that never make empty promises nor offer her disappointment the way he does. And now she finds an even better option. 

She meets Yuuta every weekend when the sun is a couple of hours away from setting. They don’t chat for long as their conversations are always reserved for the little coffee shop gathering (she’s trying to avoid the word ’date’) that always occurs after a few pleasant hours of reading. They begin to grow comfortable with each other, much easier than she thought they would, and very quickly, as if they were old friends reconciling for the time they’ve lost. Maybe even more than old friends—a thought that should scare her. 

At the library, she spends most of their hours poring over her chosen book for the day while stealing glances at him. More often than not, she’ll catch him doing the same, but whenever their gazes meet, he’ll look away with his face steaming, busying himself at once by scribbling something incoherent, most likely, down on his paper.

Today is a rare occasion. He’s been keeping his gaze fixated on his own writings; the world seemingly turns obscure around him. His eyebrows taut together as he sinks more profoundly into his thoughts, a habit that she finds beguiling. His raven hair seems a shade lighter as the evening sun casts its light upon his face, basking him with such a warm, beautiful glow.

He really does look like a painting, she admires, stealing glances at him from behind her book. The perfect shape of his nose, his skin as pure as the driven snow, the way he’s so fixated on his story, drowning inside his imagination… It’s easy to be bewitched by his beauty.

She must be careful not to let her endless praise slip through her mouth. “So focused,” she coos, choosing to act mischievously instead, which earns her a little smile. “Writing a new scene? I thought you’d finished your draft.”

He looks up from his paper, meeting her eyes. They linger briefly as if it was hard for him to look away once he’d set his eyes on her. Though it happens all the time, she can never get used to it. 

He smiles quietly to himself, a soft blush painting his features. “Just a short one.”

She hums in response. Having trouble refocusing on the passage she just read now that he’s giving her attention, she throws another question at him. “Why aren’t you using a laptop? I mean, it would’ve been a lot easier, right?”

“Not fond of it,” he responds, re-reading the words he just wrote. “I feel more like a writer this way.” When he notices her tittering, he arches his brow. “What?”

“You sound like my father.”

He scrunches his nose. It’s cute. “Then I’m sure your father is a brilliant, tech-savvy man.”

“I’m saying you have an old soul, the way you prefer to do things more traditionally.” She sinks further into her chair, opening a new page, eyes scanning the lines but not reading them. “Well, I guess that makes the two of us since I already have the e-book version of this on my iPad, yet I’m still here reading it in a library. How’s your story going so far?”

“Pretty well. I just came up with a really annoying character.” His smile is a bit different this time, somewhat impish. A new look on him that she instantly adores. “Inspired by someone.”

“You’re not talking about me, are you?”

Yuuta drags his pen over his note. “Character B begins to question whether she’s—”

She playfully slaps her book against his shoulder.

The more time she spends with him, the more she feels like he’s becoming a mystery she can’t solve. She’s closer to him, closer than any of her friends, but she knows there are secrets he tries to bury underneath those tender smiles. To her, Yuuta, with his eyes always seeming like they’re telling a different story—one that nearly drives him to the brink of tears—still appears like an incomplete puzzle. And if time allows her, she’d gladly collect every piece of him to perceive  him better.

***

Dreams are supposed to be strange. Nonsensical. Meaningless and easily forgotten. And yet, ever since Yuuta walked into her life, they’ve become anything but. Every detail stood more vividly than the memories of her own childhood, so vibrant with colors that it made it impossible for her to stray away from it even when she was awake. They occur every night, forming a chain of events beginning from the very first day she encountered him by chance in the library. 

In her dreams, they spent most of their time there, almost in the same way they did in real life. But while only weeks had passed by in reality, time flowed much faster here. She could tell that the season had changed from the clothes they wore to the coldness that kissed his cheek scarlet. There were never the same books lying between their hands, but she didn’t notice them at first, not as clearly as the changes in the air shared between them. 

They grew closer faster than they did in real life, fondness in the glances they covertly tossed to each other. Their voices were glazed more with adoration than mirth every time they laughed, and the smiles they shared were everlasting. Yuuta’s eyes lingered every time he had the chance to marvel at her features for a little while. Sometimes, they were lost in her darker hues. Sometimes, they remained longer than they should have on her lips, watching them move but not registering any words spoken. Sometimes, if she were lucky, she’d have the chance to gaze back into them, and he’d let her have a taste of the depth of the affection he held for her. And they’d let the moment pass just like that for a second or two, forcing time to slow down and their surroundings to reduce into a blur until they were the only two people left in the universe.

In one dream, when the serene evening rain tapped itself against the tall windows of her library, she saw Yuuta braving himself to touch her hand for the first time, just the slightest brush of his quivering fingertips against hers as they read from the same book, a touch so light it rivaled the softness of a zephyr’s kiss upon a baby’s strand. She could feel her face warming at the touch, a new sensation, but she didn’t hate it, not at all. If anything, it left her wanting more. The dream ended with them sharing secret smiles with themselves, innocent hearts kissed by the flame of first love.

Every night, this happens. And it’s like witnessing the beginning of a love story. Her love story. Though most of the time she feels like she’s inhabiting someone else’s body, it’s beginning to feel like…

I’m falling for him, too.

It’s a scary thought, but she puts no effort to stop it. After all, this is just a dream, isn’t it? I’m only falling for this version of him—the version that I, or rather, my mind, created. And that’s why he’s so perfect, right? Because that’s how I want him to be. It sounds like a perfect theory, and so she believes it wholeheartedly. 

Only on certain nights when exhaustion took a toll on her body did she manage to sleep without him visiting her mind, but that was simply because she wasn’t dreaming at all. It seems like she only has two options now: enter a dreamless sleep or fall into memory-like sequences that revolve around him and no one else.

Last night was no different.

She entered her dreamland, a burst of sunlight blinding her at once. She threw her stare down to avoid it, seeing her hands going in motion to accompany her moving legs. She could see the end of her plain, dark grey kimono swaying with every step, her feet covered in white socks that were split between her toes, matched by a pair of formal sandals made of rice straws. She was taking a stroll down one of the busiest streets of Tokyo—or at least, that was where she assumed they were. 

To say that the city appeared dissimilarly from the one she resided in now is an understatement—they were poles apart. The architectural design of the buildings embraced more of the historic European elements instead of the perfect blend of the traditional Japanese architecture and modernist designs they have now. The Western influence lay thickly in every aspect of life that she managed to identify in the short time she was there. From food, clothing, music, painting—everything was transformed by it. The city looked breathtaking and unsettling at the same time. 

She recalled seeing such scenery commemorated in one of the history books she studied in school. She was indeed in Tokyo—a couple of decades before it was bombed to the ground, turning the once beautiful city into nothing but dust and rubbles, drenched in the blood of more than a hundred thousand civilians during the Second World War.

 The thought made her blood curdle. 

“Are you all right?” 

Yuuta, appearing just as young as the first time she saw him in her dream, asked her worriedly. He was dressed in another set of Western clothing, looking exceptionally handsome in his white button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up, a black tie, and a matching dark vest that highlighted the shape of his broad chest and lean waist. The wind ruffled his hair as he walked beside her, perfecting it by adding a little boyish charm, a perfect company to the blush on his cheeks that emerged from the late spring’s sunlight heat. 

The one thing that was missing was his smile, his face twisted in concern as he eyed her closely. “You haven’t said anything in a while… Am I boring you?”

“No, of course not,” she heard herself say, stepping to the side of the road to speak with him in private. He bent his head down to listen to her properly, not wanting her voice to be drowned by the murmurs of the passing crowd. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I just… I’m nervous.”

“Nervous?” He repeated, both in disbelief and amusement. “Why is it so hard for me to imagine that?”

“It’s true,” she pouted. “Unlike you with your sweet, extravagant life, I’ve never had the pleasure of being invited to a concert before. I don’t know what to do once I’m there. I don’t know what to say to your friends. I don’t even think I’m dressed correctly for the occasion—Why are you laughing at me?!”

“I’m not.” He clearly was, even when he was trying to swallow every bit of his laughter. “I’m sorry. I know this is a new experience for you, but really, there’s no need for you to feel so anxious. All you have to do is sit down beside me and enjoy the show. You don’t have to say anything to my friends if you don’t want to. We could also just avoid them entirely if you think that could put you at ease.”

“But… I thought you wanted to discuss something with them after the show.”

He hummed as he pretended to cogitate on it, secretly smiling to himself. “Well, I suppose I could meet new business partners every other day, but being with you? When you’re so adorably nervous like this?” His grin was as beguiling to marvel at as the blush that kissed the apples of his cheeks. “That doesn’t happen every day now, does it?”

Speaking of cheeks—she was pinching them. Hard. “We haven’t met in two weeks, and suddenly, you’re a man with words now, are you?” He whimpered in pain, sputtering out his apology until she released him with a sigh. “Am I at least wearing the right clothes?” She spun herself once, giving him the chance to examine the details. Though her long sleeves were up to trend, she couldn’t help but think that the motif and shade of her kimono were a little dull. Most ladies her age wore bright-colored ones with bold, graphic patterns as their ornaments. Their fabrics were always made from silk or satin, unlike hers which was cheaply produced from cotton. She would never have let such trivial things bother her if she didn’t have to stand next to him at such a fancy event. She cared more about his reputation than her own, not wanting him to be judged more than he already was for spending most of his spare time wandering around with a lower-class woman such as herself. “This is the best kimono I have, but I don’t know if it’s enough—”

“You’re perfect,” he answered without waiting for her to complete her line. “You’re always perfect.”

She cast her gaze somewhere else, ignoring the heat rising to her face. “Well, if you say so…” she murmured diffidently. “I just want to look equal to you. You look so handsome with your suit and everything and I don’t…” —her voice turned small— “want my presence to ruin that.”

His shoulders slumped forward as he witnessed her usual confidence waning away. With tenderness in his touch, he took her hand between his own. “We don’t have to go if you don’t feel like it.”

She shook her head. “You’ve paid a high price for my ticket, I couldn’t—”

“I don’t care,” he squeezed her hand. “All I want is to see you having the best time of your life. I thought—since you said you often played classical music on your piano—watching a live orchestra in person would gladden you. But if it only worries you like this, I’d rather just spend another hour with you in the library.” He gave her a smile, as soft as the brush of his thumb over her knuckles. “Let’s do whatever you want today. Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

He made her heart sing in ways she thought it couldn’t. “No, I want to go,” she confirmed. “I’m sorry, I just… I guess I thought about it too much.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her. “I think you look gorgeous as you are now, but if you’re still concerned about your outfit, why don’t we visit a shop real quick?”

“Huh? What are you—” She was tugged forward before she could finish, forced to hasten her steps to match his excited strides. “Yuuta—wait!” ***

Without taking a second to listen to her, he led her to the nearest gokufuya to find her a set of kimono that, in her opinion, would be better for the occasion.  They arrived with sweat coating their skins, their breathing ragged from all the running. “Can you dress her in the prettiest, most expensive kimono you have, please?” Yuuta promptly asked the owner with sparks in his eyes, taking her by surprise. 

A beautiful lady, maybe ten years above her age, who was dressed elegantly in a white kimono decorated in floral patterns, smiled understandingly at his request. “Of course. Could you please wait for a moment? I will prepare the changing room for you.”

“Yes, we’ll be waiting,” he replied.

Immediately after she walked away, leaving the two of them alone, she clutched her hand around his arm. “Yuuta, wait,” she warned him under her breath. “We should go. I don’t have any money.” Especially when you unnecessarily asked her for the most expensive one. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll pay.”

“Then, we really need to go,” she insisted, half-glowering at him. “What did I tell you about buying me expensive gifts? I don’t like it. It makes me feel guilty.”

“Well, fortunately for both of us,” he grinned, rather cheekily which was a rare look on his face. “I’m not buying you a gift. I’m renting it—ouch!”

She was pulling on his cheek again. “That’s the same!”

But Yuuta, with his cheek swollen and everything, remained stubborn till the end, refusing to leave the shop until she, at the very least, tried to put one on herself. 

The shopkeeper, who introduced herself as Utahime Iori, instructed two young assistants—Miwa and Momo—to accommodate them with their needs. With a polite bow, they led them further into the shop, granting them some privacy from the other visitors. “Let’s just do it for fun,” Yuuta said. “If you don’t find anything that suits your taste, we can go with your old one, I promise.” Not wanting to argue with a nobleman in front of three pairs of curious eyes, she sighed and followed as he said, begrudgingly.

Only just for fun, she muttered inwardly.

And indeed it was. Never in her life had she had the opportunity to try on such luxurious clothing. From silk to satin. Blue, green, and golden. From geometric patterns to feather-like designs—she was trying on everything the two girls asked her to. 

Yuuta sat on the little couch provided in the same space, waiting with his suit jacket folded around his arm and his invisible tail wagging behind him, all in anticipation. She could feel his excitement reverberating even from the fitting room she was in. 

His eyes matched the brightest stars in the night sky each time she allowed him to take a look, gazing at her with admiration so intense, it lit her skin on fire. She always pulled the curtains closed before he could muster his comment, knowing that it would be the same every time.

You’re so beautiful.

Before she could try on the next piece, Utahime walked inside the fitting room with her own choice of kimono. “Let’s try this one next, shall we?” Her assistants nodded, ready to follow her direction, but the lady stopped them before they began. “I’ll assist her with this one myself,” she said, earning herself a polite bow from the two before they excused themselves out of the room.

Utahime stepped closer, causing her to grow nervous for some reason. The room suddenly felt like it’d shrunk three times smaller with the amount of tension brewing between them. In her eyes, Utahime exuded elegance that only belonged to the nobility. She found herself tense under her scrutinizing stare, her tongue tied inside her mouth.

“Raise your arms for me?” Utahime broke the silence, to which she answered with a nod. The lady began by unraveling the sash, experienced hands moving so swiftly yet refined. “Your partner is very adorable,” Utahime said to her surprise, with a slight giggle that she didn’t expect to flow so airily from her mouth. She disrobed the outer layer of her kimono, preparing her for the new one. “Must be nice to find love at such a young age.”

“W-we’re not lovers.”

“You’re not?”

“No, Ma’am.” Why am I talking about my love life with a stranger? She thought, mortified. She followed Utahime’s guidance, sliding her arms through the long sleeves of the kimono she’d chosen for her. “We’re just, umm… Friends.” And it was true. Yuuta showered her with endless compliments every second he had the chance to, but not once had ever asked her to be his lover. And maybe that’s for the best, she couldn’t help but wonder, crestfallen over her own thoughts. Because at the end of the day…

We never truly belong in the same world, do we? 

She expected confusion to settle on the lady’s face, but it never did. It was as if she had known the truth all along. “I don’t think any of you wishes to stay that way for long,” Utahime said softly.

The truth came down as a blessing and torture at the same time. She couldn’t speak for his sake, but she knew exactly why she hadn’t spoken a word about her feelings, even with them growing this close to each other. He was blue blood while hers ran red. When was the last time she heard of a nobleman marrying a lowborn in this country? Never.

So, they could trifle with each other’s heart all they want; they could even own it if they wanted to, but it wouldn’t matter. They would never be together. 

“I keep telling myself not to come clean about my feelings for him,” she confessed quietly. “And even if I wanted to tell him, I wouldn’t know how to… put my feelings into words. For once, I’m embarrassed,” she chuckled a little to mask her emotions. “But, most of all, I’m… scared.”

I’m scared that he’ll say the truth. That the difference in our status is indeed something he can’t look past.

She wondered if Utahime could read the conflict she was battling inside, but if she did, she didn’t speak on it. Instead, like a mother would do to her child, she soothed her with gentle words. “Well, sometimes love can be so grand that we find it difficult to put it into words,” Utahime started, her lips curved up in a delicate smile. “But it’s fine, isn’t it? There are many ways to profess our love even without moving our lips. And a thousand more for us to understand the love they bestow upon us.” A faraway gaze manifested in her eyes as if she was reminiscing a past love. “We can feel it in their touch. We can hear it in their tone. We can see it in their gaze. Love is love no matter how we convey it,” the lady finished. “Our job as women, should our hearts beat for them, is to accept it and return it just the same.”

Her gaze turned vacant as she let Utahime wrap her obi around her waist, recalling every little kindness, every little joy Yuuta had granted her in the last few months they had known each other. And with it, she braved herself to wonder.

Even if it was only for a short while, wouldn’t it still be wonderful to be in love with him? To be loved by him? They were still young, so young. It would take another three to five years before he was urged to marry and—

That’s enough, right?

Even if he was forced to leave me afterward… Even if it would only hurt us in the end… Wouldn’t it be better to love a little than to not love at all? 

I want to.

I want to love him.

I already am in love with him and I know he feels the same way.

Our job as women, should our hearts beat for them, is to accept it and return it just the same.

I just have to… accept it.

“What if I want to give him more…?” she unconsciously mumbled loud enough for Utahime to catch it. He’d done so much for me, things that I might never be able to repay. And if it’s love he wants from me, if I can give that to him to make him feel as happy as he’s made me, I want him to give him so much more than he asks for. I want to love him harder than the way he loves me.

Smiling to herself, the older woman tied the final string, turning her sash into a beautiful, voluminous bow. Utahime adjusted her body to face the standing mirror before her, lightly squeezing her shoulders as their eyes met in the reflection. “Then he’ll be the luckiest man on earth,” she answered near her ear, letting her take the time to absorb the view.

Out of all the kimonos she’d tried, this one captured her heart the most, enveloping her in such beauty and grace that she could barely recognize herself. 

Her body was swaddled by a pretty violet shade that resembled a blooming lilac. The floral patterns embroidered the silk in such an intricate way that once it was worn, it appeared as if her every curve was embraced tightly by an endless string of white roses. 

“You know what looks better on me than I do, Iori-san,” she said, still staring at her reflection in disbelief. Before this, Momo had helped her redo her hair to match her outfit, tying it up in a beautiful braid that showcased her neckline and accentuated her facial features. It looked perfect combined with this kimono. Now, she appeared like a different person, elegant from head to toe. “I didn’t think this look would suit me. I’ve never worn this color before, or these patterns.”

“Oh, it was all that gentleman’s idea,” Utahime answered with a polite smile, her fingers curling around the curtain. “Everything was, from the color down to the patterns—especially the patterns.” She pushed the blind open, showcasing her latest masterpiece to the one admirer who had waited so patiently for her. “So, go on and show him how stunning his choices look on you.”

With her heart climbing up her throat, she spun her head around to see Yuuta slowly standing from his seat, his eyes turning rounder at the sight of her. She watched him swallow his breath, searching for words to say as blood pooled quickly on his face.

“You look…” he mumbled out as if he was in a trance. “Breathtaking…”

And quite literally, it seemed, judging from how breathless he was. The two assistants peeking from the corner of the room giggled to themselves, exchanging murmurs behind their fingers. 

Utahime approached her from behind, explaining something only for her ears to hear. “These white roses in the kimono you’re wearing hold several meanings,” she said, guiding her straying eyes back to the reflection in the mirror. She hovered her lean fingers above two separate flowers joined to form an ornament below her neckline. “A single white rose like this portrays the beauty of love at first sight. While these two right here”—she glided her hand to her left side, stopping to caress the small two roses printed on the fabric just a little under her shoulder— “symbolize purity. All together, they represent eternal love.” 

It was all that gentleman’s idea, she recalled Utahime’s lines. From the color down to the patterns—especially the patterns.

She turned flustered, steam filling her brain, but before she could reply, Utahime excused herself with a bow, disappearing behind the sliding door with a knowing smile written on her lips.

Suddenly, there were only two of them in the world.

She grew self-conscious, fiddling with her fingers. Never in her life had she ever been gazed at so passionately, so romantically by a man before that it left her feeling faint. “I, umm, I think I’m going to take this one, but I promise I’ll pay you back for it,” she said, not knowing how to act honestly even when her heart was filled to the brim with gratitude. 

Yuuta was still staring, mesmerized by every detail: the curls of her hair teasing her neck, the way the fabric hugged her curves, how perfect this color looked on her skin—everything.

She raised her hand over her face, hiding behind it. “Stop looking at me like that,” she grew timorous. But instead of doing as she wished, he took the same hand and curled his fingers around them.

There are many ways to profess our love even without moving our lips. And a thousand more for us to understand the love they bestow upon us.

Her eyes widened as he brought her hand closer to him. “Y-Yuuta—”

We can feel it in their touch. 

He placed a kiss on her skin, his lips caressing against the bumps of her knuckles. They were warm, warmer than she thought they’d be as his hand was always cold. The kiss was brief, but his lips remained close as he held her hand still, doing everything so softly as if she was made out of porcelain.

We can hear it in their tone. 

His voice was an instrument, and with it, he performed endless love songs with her name as his poem.

We can see it in their gaze.

Yuuta blinked his eyes open, and at first, she witnessed his affection, but underneath the tenderness of his gaze and the sweetness of his youthful face, laid the passion of a man, so burned with desire, it left her watching with bated breath. 

He wanted her carnally, desired her as much as he loved her.

“I always thought that you’d look gorgeous in this color, and I’m glad I was right,” he said, his hand slowly gliding to her wrist. The simple, innocent act felt so sinful as if he was undressing her, peeling her out of the kimono to satisfy his fantasy. It was so… thrilling. “But even if I had imagined it a thousand times before, nothing could ever come close to the way you look right now.” He drew his hand away, and she was so struck by it, she almost reached out to beg him for more. Yuuta slid his hand into the pocket of his trousers, retrieving the other gift he had prepared for her today. It was a hairpin—a kanzashi, they called it—in the shape of a yellow camellia flower. He placed it upon her hair, the perfect final touch to the perfect lady. He sighed, full of longing, his hand sliding down to her face. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, his thumb skating over her lips. “The only woman I want to see for the rest of my life.”

She held her breath, her chin trapped between his fingers. He leaned close, or maybe she did, she couldn’t tell, so distracted by the words he spoke and the way he—

“I’m sorry to bother you,” one of the assistants, Miwa, who was sitting politely on her heels, slid the door open without knowing. “Utahime-sama would like to know if—Oh!” She squeaked at the sight of them, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as she clamped her mouth with both hands. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt!” She pressed her head to the ground, cold sweat dampening her face. “I was—We wanted to ask whether you’d like to try on something else—oh, Gods, I’m terribly sorry—” she continued to ramble on her own, completely shattering whatever magic laid between them before. 

Clearing her throat, she took a step away from him the same way he distanced himself, tossing her gaze anywhere but him. 

“W-we’d like to take this one please, thank you,” Yuuta said, face flushed.

“Yes, Okkotsu-sama—understood!” Giving another deep bow, she quickly excused herself, scuttering away while mumbling to herself, “What do I do what do I do what do I do I have no money Utahime-sama is going to send me back to the village what about my brother he’s still so young what are we going to eat what if we get eaten by a bear oh I’m going to die”

“She does not have one positive thought in her brain, does she?” She forced a chuckle out of her despite still finding the air heavy to breathe in. 

Yuuta stood soundlessly, still unable to meet her gaze, not even for a second. But that was fine. She wouldn’t have known what to do if he did. After all—

Suddenly, he called out her name, a little bit louder than he’d intended due to his nervousness. “Y-yes, Yuu?”

He took her hand, holding it tightly between his own. He locked their eyes together, causing her to gulp. “After the concert,” he said, his ears flaming red. “C-can we continue—”

Everything suddenly turned blank.

She blinked her eyes open, greeted by the sight of her ceilings.

When she was younger—many, many years ago—her mother used to splash water on her face to rip her apart from her sweetest dream, but it never, never felt this excruciating, this shocking, this infuriating to wake up before. What was he going to ask me? She mused, even when she still felt disoriented after the sudden change of reality. 

’Can we continue seeing each other?’

’Can we continue talking somewhere private?’ 

’Can we continue… where we left off?’  

What was it?!

Her heart raced at the thought. God, she hugged her knees to her chest, burying her face in them, this is worse than having my favorite show end in a cliffhanger. She almost groaned loudly out of frustration—she would’ve if Satoru hadn't been sleeping next to her.

Right. Satoru.

She whirled her head to the side, watching her boyfriend sprawling on the sheets, nearly taking most of the bed and hogging the blanket to himself. Next to him, a digital clock sat on the nightstand.

04.32 am. 

There’s still time before I have to go to work. If I fall asleep now… will I dream of him again? Will I find out the question he asked me? She immediately shook her head, throwing herself back to the bed. It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be thinking of him, not like that.

Satoru, she reminded herself as she lay on her side, her eyes slowly turning heavy as she continued to stare vacantly at the wall. I’m with Satoru. Yuuta is just a dream.

“Everything was just…” she mumbled, her lids drawing close like a curtain. “…a dream.”

A dream and nothing more.

***

Next chapter

[niki-phoria]

⋆｡°✩ YOU LOOK SO PRETTY / PRETTY LIKE THE SUN

sweet moments with fushiguro megumi, itadori yuuji, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuuta

notes: gn reader (no pronouns used), first jjk reaction post !! this was so hard to write ngl, header from pinterest, title from tom odell - black friday

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI is in love with you.

dusk is filled with golden rays and city lights. you walk side-by-side with megumi in a comfortable silence. these quiet moments with you had always been rare but cherished moments - a small amount of time when you both could finally breathe. 

years of fighting curses had taken its toll on you. with death always just one wrong move away, megumi had grown accustomed to cherishing the little moments with you: when you made him coffee in the morning before he woke up; when you waited at his bedside after he was injured in a fight; when you forcefully put some of your food on his plate after noticing that he wasn’t eating enough.

megumi had never grown up with a view of a real romantic relationship - all of his experience came from side plots in manga and being dragged into watching movies with yuuji - but he was smart enough to realize why his heart beat so fast around you. why he blushed so easily when your hand brushed against his. why he desperately wanted more.

megumi stops when you pause in your steps, stretching out your shoulders. a content sigh escapes you as you look out towards the shore. “the sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?” you say, your eyes trained on the hues of pink and blue filling the sky. 

megumi glances at the skyline, only taking in the sight momentarily before he turns back to you. all the beautiful things he’s heard about “golden hour” seem to come true. the sun peeks out from behind various buildings, illuminating your silhouette. you softly smile as you look up at the clouds above.

“yeah,” he smiles; his gaze remains trained on you. “beautiful.”

fushiguro megumi is in love with you. now, he just has to tell you.

ITADORI YUUJI is - surprisingly - not a bad cook. over his months at jujutsu high, he had become the unofficial chef in the dorms. so when you fell ill, it was no surprise when he took on the responsibility of nursing you back to health.

your body is little more than a mound of blankets when yuuji creeps into your room; a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. he moves with the utmost care as he makes his way across the room before setting the bowl down on your bedside table. despite your puffy eyes and red-tipped nose he smiles, reaching up to push a stray strand of hair away from your face.

you stir awake at his touch before slowly blinking up at him. “hi y/n,” yuuji whispers. “feeling any better?”

he receives a groan in response. “i feel like death,” you rasp out. 

yuuji reaches over, resting the back of his hand against your forehead. “you’re still really warm,” he mumbles. “i don’t think your fever has gone down at all.”

his cheeks flush slightly when you reach over, taking his hand into your own. your skin is overly warm and slightly clammy, but yuuji doesn’t mind. instead, he intertwines your hands together. 

“here,” he says, using his free hand to hold up a spoonful of the soup he made. “try it. maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

the metal spoon burns your tongue and the broth is a little too salty, but it soothes your throat all the same. “thank you,” you murmur. “it’s delicious.”

yuuji simply smiles brightly, holding out yet another spoonful for you. “of course.”

“do you know japanese sign language?”

INUMAKI TOGE stares at you with wide eyes, surprised by your sudden question. it shouldn’t have been all that surprising, but it was something no one had bothered to ask before. 

finally, after a short period of silence, he nods. “salmon.”

toge had grown accustomed to being left out. even while around the most supportive people, he often found himself struggling to be heard - both literally and metaphorically. after all, it was difficult to communicate with others through origini ingredients. 

that didn’t make it any less hurtful, though. 

you smile brightly, hesitantly signing along to your words as you speak. “i’ve been practicing a little. i wanted to surprise you.”

toge’s face flushes; his jacket does little to hide the way his blush spreads across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. your movements are a little sloppy and you’re clearly nervous, but he doesn’t comment on it. no one had ever put in this much effort to speak to him before. to not only listen, but understand what he means. 

“thank you,” he signs in return. he pauses for a second, hesitating slightly before he continues. “i love you.”

“i don’t think i know that one.” toge simply smiles, leaning in to pull you into a kiss. he’ll tell you what it means soon enough. but for now, his flushed cheeks and soft smile tell you everything he means to say.

the safest place in the world is within OKKOTSU YUUTA’S arms. you can’t remember when it became a routine for the two of you. he would return home and immediately seek you out; his fingers curl around your waist and tug you closer until your back reaches his chest. 

a soft sigh escapes his lips as he rests his chin against your shoulder. the pieces of your bodies fit together like a puzzle - from the way yuuta intertwines his fingers with your own to how seamlessly his arms wrap around you. 

messy strands of ink black hair brush against the side of your neck when yuuta nuzzles himself even closer against you. his breath ghosts against your shoulder as he leans down, pressing a few lazy kisses over the fabric of your shirt. “i missed you.”

“i missed you, too.” your fingertips trace along little cuts and deep bruises decorating yuuta’s hands. “do they hurt?”

he catches his bottom lip between his teeth. it feels trivial to be in pain over such minor injuries, but yuuta has never been the best liar. “only a little,” he murmurs.

you frown slightly, raising your intertwined hands up to your lips. the soft kisses you press against the fresh wounds leave him breathless. with a flushed face and a soft smile, yuuta presses a chaste kiss against your cheek in return. “thank you.”

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