Aurorakingsley - AuroraKingsley - Tumblr Blog

he might be the love of my life

THE MAKING OF A MRS.

shackled to sylus and stuck in the N109 zone with no way of leaving until you figure out how to remove the aether core bond between the two of you, you take up his offer (and begrudging help) to try and blend in with his high-stakes, high-rewards life. how? by learning struggling to be his wife

ᥫ᭡ sylus x fem!reader

ᥫ᭡ fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage, contract marriage, fluff, crack, eventual s/mut, angst, close proximity, cuffed together trope, illegal stuff (it's sylus we're talking about), suggestive, luke and kieran try to play cupid, language, tension, enemies to friends to lovers, heavy illusions to the myth of hades and persephone, pregnancy mention, more tba...

ᥫ᭡ updates every week with shorter chapters!

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒…

lesson 1: becoming mrs. qin

lesson 2: bathtime

lesson 3: my side of the bed

lesson 4: dancing with our hands tied

lesson 5: baby shower

lesson 6: cock(crow)blocked

lesson 7: dangerous liasons

lesson 8: how to love

lesson 9: haunting me

lesson 10: a N109 welcome

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, take elements of my story and claim it as yours. i strictly do not allow translations of my works across other platforms.

Stress relief 18+

Your tongue swirls on the his salty tip, fat cock twitching and half hard as you tried to coax it to full mast, dragging your tongue down to the base to suck softly at his balls.

Kenji Sato, the man himself whines, sucking a sharp breathy gasp as he glances down at you with teary eyes.

Brows drawn and pouty lips pursed, he looks like he would actually cry.

Its not like you've been teasing him.

You've got a sadistic flare but you're not cruel. Besides, you were trying to relieve his stress.

He had trudged into your shared bedroom after a hectic day of back to back interviews, baseball practice and saving the city, or at least as much saving he could do half asleep before the KDF came.

A sob and a wail here, a sulky tantrum when you hadn't catch what he said, he's winded himself up even more after an overwhelming day.

So you had to take things into your own hands.

"Are you listening to me at all? Emi's asleep finally, and-"

He goes on and on and on as you smile and nod, walking him to the couch, leaning him back and sliding down between his thighs as if you're going about the day like normal.

It wasn't until you clicked open his belt that he pauses, eyes flicking in confusion from your face to hands before your mouth nips gently over his briefs, taking in his musky scent.

He yelps, flushing red as he struggles between irritation and lust.

"What're you doing...?"

Which brings you to now as you pull off his cock sloppily with a wet pop, finally red and hard as it glistened from your spit.

It swirls with his pre, thick globs dribbling down to the couch.

Your mouth twitches up into a smirk at his whines when you stop.

Eyes glazed and loopy, his mouth lolling open, he definitely looks stress-free right now.

"Feels good, Ken?"

You murmur against his swollen tip, hot breath causing him to flinch and twitch.

"Yea...s'gud baby..."

Making out with Kenji. 18+

Make out sessions with Kenji is like running a marathon. He's got some sort of oral fixation exclusive to you, his mouth needing to be against yours, against you, without breaking apart for as long as possible.

Doesn't matter if you're breathless, and seeing spots, the moment you try to pull away it's as if you've snatched his gold trophy from him.

"Get back here,"

His voice practically drags out in a snarl, guttural and feral as he squeezes your face in one large palm to yank you back.

Right, how inconsiderate of you to try to catch your breath.

You wince as your teeth clacks roughly against his, his tongue already slipping into your mouth.

He's got you pushed down on the bed, body weight crushing yours as his hips grinds on you. His elbows digs into the mattress on either sides of your head, fingers laced on the top of your head as if to hold you in place and your own small hands gripped onto the sides of his shirt for dear life.

Your muffled whines of protests were lost on him, too busy eating your face to care. All he hears is your cute little mewls and whimpers under him, moaning into your mouth whenever you gag.

When he finally, finally, pulls back, you're throwing your head back to gulp for air, sweat beading on your forehead and chest heaving.

Kenji clicks his tongue, dragging the back of his hand over his spit-covered chin.

"S'dramatic,"

You hear him mumble, earning a swat from you despite the smirk playing on his lips.

He likes seeing you like this, winded and choking for air. The power trip of reducing you into a goopy mess like this turns him on like crazy, though he'll never admit it.

And here comes the punchline.

"You're all worked up over a kiss?"

The smugness practically oozes from his tone, eyes glittering with glee as he runs a cold hand up the column of your neck.

He squeezes lightly, a promise for what's to come, before sliding down your body as your eyes follows him curiously. Your breath hitches when he swings your thighs over his shoulders.

"Since I've tired your lips out up there, I think I'll pay attention to the ones here, kay' baby?"

His shit eating grin tells you he's gonna do it anyways.

He's got you wrap around his little finger and all you can do is spread your thighs a little wider in answer.

(Bro is a mouth breather. He breaths through YOUR mouth fr)

“GONNA SHOW HIM YOU’RE MINE.”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + LOVE BITES. ft. togame jo, hayato suo, kaji ren, sakura haruka, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

filled request: “Can I request for umemiya, sakura, suo, and kaji where they see reader with another guy friend and they get jealous because the guy is being flirty and obviously trying to make moves but reader is dense so then the boys give reader a hickey for the first time to show that reader is taken??”

mdni ! suggestive. 1.5K WC ; added togame ! :>

TOGAME JO. pet name ‘doll’ used!

“him again?”

you adjust the straps of your top before twisting and turning to get a better look at your outfit. “mhm,” you hum in response, “said he needed help asking someone out today. i’m gonna help pick the flowers.”

togame's eyes narrow a bit at the obvious intent of your friend. it didn’t help that you really didn't have a single clue in the world, and on top of your obliviousness— you're dressed so cute.

the combination was just a recipe for disaster, and he wants to finally put an end to it today.

“ah— what are you doing?” you yelp when he suddenly tugs at your wrist, pulling you off balance as you stumble and fall onto his lap. his arm comes to loop around your waist before you can even stabilize yourself, hugging you tight against his chest.

“togame, let go,” you whine, “i’m gonna be late!”

“don't wanna.”

the casualty of his tone makes your eyebrow twitch. he almost sounds bored with how slow the words come out of his mouth, and despite that fact, his arm doesn’t seem to budge at all when you try and push against him.

“plus…..” he’s choosing to ignore your efforts to move him— or he just doesn’t notice them in the first place, “you don’t need to meet with a guy like that anyway.”

“and why is that?” you retort, arms crossing in frustration as you give up and resort to simply glaring back at your boyfriend. "..are you jealous?"

"course i am, doll" he lulls, fingers pulling your top’s strap out of the way before his lips attach themselves to the side of your neck, sucking at the skin as you shiver. his hand tilts your jaw to the side, giving him the space he needs to better suckle and kiss your neck.

you can’t help the little noise that slips out when he releases the skin with a loud pop, exhaling deeply against you before peppering kisses beside the dark mark he's given you.

“can't stand when guys are tryna get at what's mine.”

HAYATO SUO.

“that friend of yours..” suo coos against the shell of your ear, “really likes you, doesn’t he?”

he's looming right over you, his familiar smile looking a little different today when his arms are caging you right beneath him, and you suck in a sharp breath when he leans down, tassel earrings tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“h-huh? he does?” your voice comes out a little breathless from the way his lips are just barely hovering over your skin.

“he does. you couldn't tell?”

in any other situation, he would think your innocence would be endearing. but after watching your friend get all close to you like that, holding your hair up and then fixing your necklace for you— he couldn't help it. a part of him is thankful for how steady his voice comes out, because you'd never be able to guess that just below his calm exterior- he was absolutely fuming with jealousy.

“no, i didn't know,” you whisper, “but you know i would've turned him down if he said anything-”

“i can help with that,” he interrupts, tone sweet and soothing. he plants a kiss just below your ear, his breath grazing your ear, and it sends a shiver straight down your spine.

“h-how?” you squeak.

you can feel him smile against you before his hand comes to tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck for him. “just like this,” he whispers before he's taking a sharp inhale, lips latching onto you as he sucks harshly.

the noise that comes out of you riles him up even more. he's sucking harder before he even realizes, calm demeanor crumbling just a bit when he hears the noises you’re making just for him.

you think you felt his teeth graze your neck for a second when he releases the skin, pulling back a bit to admire the mark he’s left on your neck.

"it's a good idea, right? turn your head the other way for me now."

KAJI REN. calls you ‘my girl.’

“w-what's wrong, kaji?” you manage to stammer between kisses, “you're a lot rougher today— something on your mind?”

he pulls back a bit when your hands tug at his hair, a part of him content when he sees the way your lips are slightly swollen, your mouth parted to catch your breath as your chest rises up and down from the intensity.

there was a lot on his mind, but marking you up was at the forefront of his brain. he could already tell that only kissing you just wasn’t gonna cut it after all that’s happened today.

“‘s fine,” he mutters before he’s back on top of you, his lips roughly latching onto the skin just beneath your collarbone, sucking at the skin as you gasp above him. “oh- t-that feels good,” your voice comes out as a breathy sigh, “are you… mad still?”

“mad at that friend of yours,” he growls against your skin, pressing a quick kiss onto the mark until he's moving onto another part of your neck, lips hovering just below your ear. “he was tryna get at my girl right in front of me.”

“i'm sure he wasn't— ah!” you gasp when his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you flush against his body as he tilts his head to better nestle into the crook of your neck.

“got me pissed off just seeing him looking at you like that,” his teeth graze against your skin when he sucks particularly hard, “gonna make sure he’ll get a nice and close look at these next time.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

kissing sakura is much, much different today.

he’s rough— hands trailing along your back, sending an shiver straight down your spine as he deepens the kiss, breaths mingling with urgency. the way he’s kissing you so desperately today has little gasps escaping your lips, which do nothing but encourage him to touch you more.

"f-fuck," he gasps between kisses, pulling back to inhale sharply before your fingers come to tangle in his hair, pulling him right back into you.

“someone's in a bad mood.” you giggle, and he scoffs in response, a dusting of pink over his cheeks. “‘m not mad.”

"you sure? what's got you so worked up?"

and he hates that he doesn't know. he doesn't know what this feeling is, so he has no idea how to get rid of it. all he knows is that it didn't feel nice when he saw your friend all up over you.

it should've been him instead— he thinks. and all he wants now is to have you.

your breath hitches in your throat when his lips begin to trace a path down your neck, pressing wet kisses between each inch of skin. “i don't know,” he admits through a deep blush, “just want…this.”

just thinking about the earlier events makes his blood boil again, and it shows in his next kiss. he accidentally sucks at your neck for a moment, and a lewd moan slips right through your lips.

your hand slaps over your mouth a moment too late, and he freezes in place, deep blush spreading to his ears at the sound. he’s never heard you never make that noise before.

"d-don't stop, sakura,” you urge, tugging at his hair, “feels good.”

he pulls back a bit to roughly shake his head, shake off the irritating blush before his eyes finally flicker towards the subtle mark he’s left on your skin. it’s a deep shade of purple, and something about it makes him feral— it scratches at the itch he’s had all day.

he doesn’t think he’ll be stopping anytime soon, at least.

“f-fine,” he growls, “turn your head.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME.

umemiya sighs when your phone buzzes again, the sound catching your attention as you scroll to check your messages again. you're leaning back against ume's chest when you open it, letting him rest his head on your shoulder with a dramatic pout.

"he's tryna steal you away from me," he whines, arms hugging tightly around your core. "s no fair."

how you were able to reduce bofurin's strongest— the one standing at a staggering 6’2 to a needy little puppy is beyond him. but in his defense, he thinks he's been waiting for your attention for ages by now.

it seems like the second you're finally putting down your phone to turn your attention to him is the exact moment your friend decides to send yet another message, your phone buzzing from the notification— and your attention shifts back to that guy just like that.

it's a never ending loop, and he's getting desperate.

“he's not, ume,” you mumble, fingers clicking at your screen. “he's just my friend. and he’s asking to get dinner with everyone tomorrow.”

you don't notice the way his bottom lip pokes out in a pout, eyes then narrowing into a glare directed at your screen before he's pulling you a bit closer to himself, arms holding you impossibly tighter against his chest.

it was really not fair.

it only takes a few more seconds of pouting before his eyes suddenly flicker to the bare skin of your neck, and he perks up when he thinks of an idea. a great idea.

“..you gonna go with them? tomorrow?”

you give him a nod, and if umemiya had a tail— it would be wagging now. his lips start to excitedly ghost over your skin, taking in the scent of your perfume, and his gaze is focused and intentional as he tries to gauge your reaction.

nothing, so far.

so he presses an experimental kiss onto your shoulder, eyes watching you closely— and still nothing. you only perk up a bit when he finally decides to proceed with his plan and takes the skin in his mouth, sucking at it for a bit before releasing it with a lewd pop.

"ume— d-did you just leave a mark?”

“i did,” he’s grinning now, staring at the mark he's left— and he thinks it's surprising dark for how gentle he was. it was only the first one tonight, after all.

“want another one?”

palette

hajime umemiya x graffiti artist!reader only a little snippet, but it might become bigger later, word count: 899

you were at home right here with the collection of paint markers and aerosol cans at your feet. your free hand adjusted the filtration mask on your face as you sprayed a nonsensical pattern onto the wall using a fluorescent green so bright it almost hurt your eyes. as you began to draw on the concrete wall using a black paint marker, you felt the sneaking suspicion that eyes were on you. 

that was odd. 

you did most—hell, all your graffiti work in the dark of night, hidden from sight. you’d been chased off by a few townsfolk when you were tagging signs or walls in broad daylight, which you supposed was fair. you were technically doing something utterly illegal, after all. but you kept at it at night, painting flowers and animals, or just random letters onto whatever surface you could. 

bofurin boys often covered it up—as was their right, too, you supposed, but it always irritated you when you’d come back around and find work you’d slaved on all night be covered up with a fresh layer of white paint. 

but back to the feeling that you were being watched. 

“who’s there?” you call out, pulling off your filtration mask slightly. 

“so you’re the one doin’ all those green tags!” a boisterous voice said, and you felt a sudden presence right behind you. you whirled around, dropping your black paint marker across the floor, wincing as it skittered across the alleyway. “did you know that this taiyaki place has called us every day for a week about the graffiti?” 

fuck. you did know that voice. hajime-fuckin’-umemiya, leader of the bofurin, who had essentially annexed and reformed furin high school by force. not only were they vigilante heroes of justice—they also practically were civil servants that served the community—and now their fucking leader was staring at you with a strange, open look in his eye. 

he wasn’t even dressed in his furin uniform—you think you’ve seen it a few times, the whistling long coat that he wore out on patrols with some of the other furin boys. despite it all, he somehow had that sort of aura of warm authority about him—paired with a brilliant and curious smile on his face.

“so what?” you ask defensively. 

“you do know the graffiti’s illegal, right?” umemiya questioned, raising an eyebrow as he walked over to where your marker had skittered across the floor, picking it up. “you could be put in jail for up to five years, you know!” he flipped the marker around, holding it out to you. 

“like i need someone from furin lecturing me about that,” you say, taking the marker back from him. umemiya seemed to deflate a little, almost like a sad puppy, upon your very subtle furin insult, so you hastily add a, “no offense.” 

“mm. i get it, i get it! i do. all the work i did to rehabilitate bofurin’s image doesn’t mean much when people remember how dangerous it was before,” umemiya says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “but! i figured i’d come around the taiyaki shop at night, see if there was some repeat offender doing the graffiti, and here you are!” 

umemiya spreads his hands magnanimously, and you can see how worn and callused his hands are from years spent brawling against other students. there was no way he was going to start fighting you, right—?

“i just wanted to ask you to stop,” umemiya says. “i mean, i respect your artistic visions! i always thought it was a waste to paint over your works—i remember one time you did this bright yellow rabbit on a blue moon, very cool, by the way—and—“

huh?

“i really like your art! i was wondering, if maybe…”

you held your paint marker, watching umemiya seemingly steeling his nerves for a moment–

“do you want to come to furin and paint? there’s a lot of graffiti already, and most of the time when we patrol we never use the classrooms anyway, so if it was anonymity you were worried about, that’s covered—and plus, at night, you’d still get a lot of time to do whatever you want—”

“… you’re offering me a place at your school to just—paint?” you ask confusedly, raising an eyebrow. 

“well, yeah!” umemiya says. “i mean, it’s a waste to paint over your hard work, right? it’s different than the other tags.”

“... is it?” you ask, staring at your half-finished graffiti, joining other fresh tags on the wall. 

“well, i’m not really sure if i fully believe in the idea that art carries intention–but i’d like to think yours does! and it’s kind. and i think there’s people at furin who might appreciate it.” 

“well…”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“well, okay,” you say. “but if anyone tries to start something–”

“please,” umemiya says. “we’re not animals. it’ll be great to have you.” and then he holds out his hand to shake, and you stare down at it.

are you really doing this?

umemiya’s expression is bright, warm. 

you shake his hand. 

his grip is firm, his thumb squeezing the space between your index and thumb–and you laugh with a hint of exasperation in your voice. here you were, pulled right into umemiya’s thrall–lured in by him like a sweet siren song.

“fine. see you tomorrow, then,” you mutter, your cheeks heating up.

I got to see the haikyuu movie in theaters and it sent me spiraling so I decided to redraw old art from 2017 to celebrate how far we’ve all come ✨🧡🖤

people are saying do it scared, but you also gotta do it alone. you'll miss out on so much you want to do if you wait til someone will do it with you. do it scared and do it alone.

Harley & Ivy

gintoki + accidental confession.

@tsumtsumsemi asked: Hi! Can I request Gintoki confessing to his s/o accidentally?

so i tweaked your request somewhat to fit what i had in mind, i hope that’s okay! this ended up being half-headcanons, half-scenario, because i couldn’t shut up and stop rambling sjfkdjfk

to set up the situation before we get to the scenario:

while gintoki can be honest to a fault sometimes, he’s not the kind of person who’s upfront about his feelings, not completely; being in a relationship with him can be difficult because of this

he doesn’t keep secrets or anything, but he withholds his thoughts and emotions at times, either because he doesn’t want to burden you or it’s too embarrassing to admit

so if he were to confess his feelings, what he really thinks about you and your relationship, it’ll be during a boss battle

the arc is a long one, spanning multiple chapters/episodes (depending on your media of choice), and it’s all culminated in this—gin standing up to the villain of the month, his wooden blade in hand and blood trickling from various wounds

you’re there as well; the villain had wanted to use you against gintoki, but he’d saved you in the nick of time. now you’re forced to watch their confrontation from the sidelines, desperately hoping that he’ll be alright

it’s when the villain is derisive about gintoki’s bonds with others, with you, that the samurai chuckles. the villain pauses to stare at him in equal parts annoyance and confusion; gintoki takes that opportunity to open his eyes and speak

that’s when he’ll be the most honest about how he feels about you, emotions that he’d never have the courage to convey otherwise leaving his lips in the form of a heartfelt monologue. it’s touching, it’s tear-jerking, it’s everything you’ve wondered and wanted to hear…

needless to say, gintoki wins the battle, the villain is defeated, and balance is restored. in the next scene, you’re at his bedside as he sleeps, recuperating from his injuries

Keep reading

𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 — 𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐢

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. gintoki sakata x fem!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff with a sprinkle of angst, mentions of violence, blood and scars, gintoki has a few injuries and still manages to be a flirt

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. you tend to gintoki’s wounds after another battle. while scolding him for his reckless behavior, you accidentally confess your love for him.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. i still can’t get over the lack of fanfic in this fandom, so i’m here to bless you with another fluffy fic for gintoki. i had so much fun writing this and hope you enjoy this as much as i did

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 2.661 words

MASTERLIST

Blood seeps through the thin fabric of his white yukata that he slips off his body and throws into the corner of your otherwise clean room without care, bunched up with his signature black suit next to the muddy pair of leather boots he wore only minutes ago. When did he get here? 

It’s already dark outside, the sun has settled behind the skyline of Edo and marks the rise of the colorful nightlife that sweeps through the lively streets with a muffled buzzing, happy laughter mixing with the sound of clinking bottles. Time seems to slow down, seconds melt into minutes, minutes alter into draining hours and the night just doesn’t seem to find an end or perhaps it has only just begun. He doesn’t know.

Everything feels heavy, so heavy and terrifyingly surreal, limbs numb with fatigue and defeat. There is no fear, no pain, just exhaustion that crawls deep into his wounded skin and whispers empty promises of eternal rest and a better world into his ears if he just closes his eyes for a passing moment. A dangerous temptation he can’t withstand much longer,

“You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days, Gin.” Your voice pulls him back to reality, a sweet warmth lacing the admonishing words that flow from your tongue like strawberry milk, even when you’re scolding him for the second, no, third time this week.

As you give him a pointed look over your shoulder, you prepare the medical equipment you need to treat his injuries, calmly sterilizing the thin needle which is going to pierce through the first layers of his skin and pull thread through his body to close the deep cuts littering his scarred torso.

Clean white gauze and a bowl of cold water are carefully placed on the floor next to a washcloth and shirt that doesn’t belong to him. The blue cotton is soft to the touch and light like a feather almost feels like nothing at all under his fingertips and Gintoki supposes that it’s meant for him to wear after you stitched him back together like a cheap ragdoll. “There’s a hospital in Edo, too. I hope you know that.”

Gin grunts in response. It’s a struggle to shift his arms and move into a comfortable sitting position - the fight really took a toll on him this time, he has to admit that as he glances down to inspect the damage the blade of his opponents caused, though he barely has the time to gape at his slashed torso before you swiftly push him back into the futon with a disappointed tut.

“Don’t move more than necessary or you’re going to bleed out on my floor,” you grumble next to him, kneeling down and slowly sliding closer within reach to examine his injuries. The cold of the damp cloth pressed to his side without a warning causes him to yelp in surprise, quickly merging into a groan of pain when you clean the deep cut on his toned abdomen. The sudden sting lets nausea bloom in the pit of his stomach and tears prick at the corners of his eyes, clinging to his silver lashes and blurring his vision until the contours of your room dissipate into a pool of various colors. “Oi, quit it! Were you whining like that during that stupid fight, too?”

Arching your brow, you lean forward to get a better glimpse of the cut you decided to treat first. Delicate fingers ghost over his abused ribs with caution, caress his bruised chest with tenderness and skim over the swollen edges of the cut to spread the skin enough for you to see how deep the blade slashed through his flesh.

By now, this is already routine — inspecting each wound, treating each cut with the utmost care, and keeping him alive until Kagura and Shinpachi drag him to your doorstep in a few days again. If you’re lucky, he spares you the weekend and acts on his reckless instincts a week later, though you won’t place your trust on a spark of naive hope to get some peace and quiet.

“Hey, stay with me,” you remind Gintoki softly when you notice his eyes fluttering close in exhaustion, gently slapping his pale cheeks until his crimson gaze is focused on you once more. His state is worse than you initially thought. Shit. Worry settles in the back of your mind like a starved predator, lurking and waiting hungrily at the sight of feverish sweat glistening on his forehead, drenching silvery strands of his disheveled hair while a deathly sallowness takes over his handsome features.

The tips of your fingers, now trembling with agitation, are already stained red, the coppery smell of blood lingers in the air and stings in your nose. With a shaky exhale, you stop your administrations for just a fleeting second to collect your raging thought and push the welling fear of losing him into the shadowed corner of your head.

You can do this.

And even if you can’t, you have to.

“You won’t die on my watch, Shiroyasha,” you growl with new composure and although he barely understands what you’re saying, Gintoki still manages to nod his head in affirmation. The sound of your voice is enough to weigh him in a soothing sense of safety as he studies your face with astonishment.

Yeah, okay, he’s a little dazed and unable to respond properly because of the fair amount of blood loss he endured and the consistent lack of adrenaline drags him into a pit of consciousness and weightlessness (maybe you drugged him), but he’s certain that you’ve always been this beautiful even while your hands are covered in blood and you’re stitching his wounds together with composed steadiness, working over his drained body with skill and precision. “You’re going to live, so I can kick your ass for being so reckless.”

He won’t die.

Gintoki trusts you and your experience, he really does, but he’s so tired and his vision begins to grow blurry with each passing minute. Just give in, a voice in the back of his head whispers, just close your eyes and sleep. Far away, you call out his name, shaky and weirdly scared, yet he can’t find the power in himself to fight the overwhelming darkness any longer, engulfing him and pulling him into an icy sea of nightmares.

Shiroyasha.

He wakes with a jolt that sends a blazing fire through every fiber of his being, wide eyes and a bolting heart, the smell of blood and smoke lingering on his skin. War. Zura yells his name and Takasugi’s war cries still ring in his ears, the clashing of metal against metal sends sparks flying through the smoke, swords and dead bodies cover the ground. No. No, no, this can’t be, please—

“Oh, you’re awake.” His panicked gaze wanders to your welcoming face. A timid grin traces the corners of your mouth at the relived whisper of your name that leaves the depths of his throat as his shoulders relax. No war. Just you and your gentle hands, gliding over his heated skin and offering him a glass of fresh water which he empties within seconds. No war. “You scared me there for a second, Gin. Thought I lost you.”

“How…How long was I out?” He croaks and coughs hoarsely while carefully shifting his body, sliding back until his broad back meets the cold wall of your room. Everything hurts, muscles straining and protesting at his rapid movements, yet he doesn’t care. There’s worse than a little ache in his arms and legs.

“Only a few hours.” You press the palm of your hand against his forehead. A sigh of relief leaves your chest when you notice that the fever plaguing him during his slumber has finally subsided. Carefully, you lean over his waist to undo the bandages around his torso to change them, since the sterile fabric is long soaked in sweat and the remnants of blood that seeped through the stitches and stain the gauze.

The wounds aren’t infected, though the skin is still tender to your touch, irritated and swollen around the edges. “You really have to be more careful. I know you’re just trying to save the day and you don’t care about your own life,” you tilt your head to catch his gaze with a soft smile. “But I do.”

It’s quiet for a while as you clean some of the dried blood around the stitches that keep his cuts together before turning back to the bowl of water next to you. Rinsing out the washcloth, you watch how the drops of red dissipate in the water. His blood. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, the mere thought of Gintoki in pain and although you’ve seen him in this state plenty of times, you still can’t get used to it.

The kids always bring him to you since they meet you and learned about your medical skills, always asking for your help with quivering lips and tears in their eyes, still holding a childlike gleam of hope to suppress the agony of losing him in the open palms of death. As much as it hurts to admit this, but if Gintoki continues this pattern of carelessness and idiocy, he will die.

Sooner or later, he will.

Taking new gauze and clean bandages, you begin to wrap it around his chest and abdomen, gently smoothing the fabric and securing it by tucking the loose end under the wrap. “Have you ever thought about the kids? What are Kagura and Shinpachi supposed to do without you, huh? You can’t just leave them behind because you thought it would be funny to bleed out after a fight.”

To emphasize your scolding, you smack his shoulder before he can open his mouth to argue with you. The audacity of this man, unbelievable. “You’ve never seen their faces when they bring you to me, have you? Because let me tell you one damn thing, Sakata Gintoki, the looks on their faces break my heart every fucking time.”

You push a few strands of silver hair out of his crimson eyes and wipe the blood staining his porcelain skin, eyebrows furrowed as you think about your next words. Perhaps, you already said too much, because Gin has been awfully quiet for the past minutes, staring at you with such intensity that it makes your foolish little heart flutter in your chest like a fragile butterfly. “Listen, I’m glad to help wherever I can, but what if… what if one day, I’m not fast enough? I couldn’t live with myself if you died because of me.”

With a shaky sigh, you lift your hand to clean his split brow, but Gintoki catches your wrist before your fingertips can graze his skin. “Don’t say that,” he murmurs with a smile, gentle and kind, somehow reassuring. You’ve never seen that expression on his face before, though you could get used to it. Who knew his smile could be this bright? “You’re the best nurse I ever had. And a hot one, too.”

“I hate you,” you state with a furious blush tinting your cheeks. Unbelievable, this man. Despite losing consciousness less than four hours ago, he still finds the strength to shamelessly flirt with you — you’re not sure whether to be impressed or pissed off by his teasing.

Cocky bastard.

“That’s a little mean, don’t you think? Besides, you don’t really mean it.” A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth and he raises his arm to scratch at the back of his head, still holding your wrist in his other hand. Muscles bulge at the movement, a reminder of his capability to fight any rival and accentuating the strength and power he carries despite being the biggest idiot you have ever met. The white demon, that’s what they call him, the samurai. You’ve seen him wield a sword before — terrifying and lethal, though it doesn’t spare him from every injury.

Your gaze wanders over his biceps, following a prominent vein along his arm until your eyes meet his. Amusement glints in his dark orbs and a knowing smirk traces his lips. He caught you.

“Of course I don’t hate you.” Slipping your hand out of his grasp, you dip the washcloth into the bowl of water once more, before running it over his brow to wipe some dried blood off his skin. A small scratch decorates his temple, a wound you didn’t notice before and you have to physically retreat yourself, so you don’t act on the heat surging through your stomach and press a chaste kiss to the cut. “I’m just worried about you because I love you so much—”

Fuck. You freeze momentarily, eyes growing wide as you register what you just said. That wasn’t planned. Carefully, you tilt your head to study his face, trying to read his expression and figure out, what he’s thinking at this exact moment.

His pupils are dilated with shock and you can practically see the gears working in his head, processing the words that hastily spilled out of your mouth. Time slows down, the room appears to be spinning wildly while your heart rides a rollercoaster into your throat and back. Stammering, spluttering, gasping for air, you try to find a meek excuse, anything to explain yourself before he rejects you, but your mind is empty. Nothing comes out.

And so, you’re doomed to watch and wait. Dead eyes of a fish, you once heard the Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi describe his eyes, but now? Now you see so much more in them. A battle with his own demons as he scrambles to think of an appropriate reaction to your confession.

Then his features soften. Another smile traces over his lips, his gaze finally focused on you and your heart staggers again, afraid, excited, wondering what his next words might be. Suddenly, a spark of hope ignites in your chest at the tenderness etched into his expression.

“Well, I’m glad,” he speaks quietly, pulling you into his lap and simply ignoring your weak protests. His cheeks flush under your stare, hot and searing, climbs to the tips of his ears as he lets the walls he’s built so securely around his heart crumble down, piece by piece. It’s a sight to see, truly, because he’s so beautiful when he’s calm and vulnerable in the comfort of your presence alone, it makes you want to kiss him more than ever before. “Good to know that you feel the same way. Almost thought, I was a hopeless case.”

The kiss that follows his voice is languid and loving, almost hesitant until you melt into his touch and cup his cheeks to pull him impossibly closer. His lips glide over yours smoothly, soft and warm and so addicting, you can’t bring yourself to pull away. Only at the burning of your lungs from the lack of air, you break apart to catch your breaths, only to bump your noses when he leans in for a second kiss.

This time, you stop him. Your hand is splayed over his scarred chest, halting his movements momentarily because you now notice his half-lidded gaze filled with desire and weariness. He still needs to rest, even if the heat between your thighs tries to convince you to soak in his longing touches for a while longer. “You need to get some sleep, Gin.”

“I don’t need to do anything,” he grumbles and tries to stifle a yawn. “I can think of much better things than sleep.” The wiggle of his eyebrows earns an exaggerated huff from you while you lean to his ear to whisper your reply.

“Gintoki, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but if you don’t go to sleep right now, I will punch the living daylights out of you.”

hiiiiii :3

what would drunk consensual sex be like with Gintoki? .///.

ilysm friend

A/N: New phone, who dis? Just kidding, of course it's my beloved senpai. I had to make your request especially big and make you suffer until you'd be able to get what you want, that's what friends are for! I gotta say this was a bit of a struggle and I had to experiment a lot considering it's the first actual time I write about Gin-chan. Still, I had fun writing it even if it took days, can't wait to see what your little dirty deviant mind comes up with in the future for me to write ;-;

Ilyt friend, best senpai ever uwu and all that, hope this doesn't suck!

Drunk Consensual Sex with Gintoki (x Fem Reader)

chose this one gif because I know how much you love his stupid smug xoxo.

Theme: Night sort of date time between Gintoki and reader leading to a drunken one night stand? Something along those lines.

Warnings: S M U T. Literally in the name of the request, shoo away minors, shoo!

Sakata Gintoki, the boss of Yorozuya. Sakata Gintoki, the one who was as infamous for his naturally wavy silver hair as he was for his unconventional ways of handling things. Sakata Gintoki whose eyes looked so dead, yet never ignored others’ cries for help. No matter what he was known for, Sakata Gintoki was a man of many names, a man whose current daily shenanigans directly clashed with the reverberations of his violent past, a past he longed to forget.

Most days went by either in complete idleness or in complete disordinance as he took job after job, leaving no room for such dark thoughts to creep into his brain. However, there would always be these moments when the past would become more vivid than the present, when everything he had tried to suppress would reappear before him, when he’d find himself standing in the very same battlefield he did all these years ago. It was in moments like this that he’d find himself desperate to get away from everything and everyone. Surely there were people he could talk to, Kagura and Shinpachi being the obvious choices, yet when it came to these memories, Gintoki would rather drown them, force them to the depths of his brain until they ceased to exist. And what better way was there for him to do such a thing other than alcohol?

“One more bottle.” Pushing his glass against the hardwood of the bar, Gintoki asked for his third bottle of sake.

Even though he wasn’t known for his high alcohol tolerance, today was one of those days when he wanted to forget about everything and everyone. Having gone as far as to visit one of Yoshiwara’s bars, he had chosen a spot where no one would bother him, where he wouldn’t have to pretend for the sake of anyone. Drinking glass after glass, he only hoped for the thoughts to stop, for the images to disappear, yet he was more sober than he’d ever been. Even when the lights in the room begun to flicker, even when the laughters next to him became more distant, his memories appeared in his head as clear as ever, ghosts that were begging to haunt him

“Do you even have the money to afford more? Last time you were here you tried to sell me one month old Jump for limited edition-”

“Shut up, old hag! It was the one with Hirohiko Araki’s special interview, of course it costs more than your lousy sake!” Gintoki exclaimed as he tried to grab the sake bottle from the hands of the bartender.

“If my sake is bad then why do you still come here? Look around you, out of all of our esteemed guests you are the only one standing out. We shouldn’t even be servicing the likes of you.” Pulling the bottle away, the woman was about to move when Gintoki threw a handful of coins onto the counter. Intrigued, she looked at him over her shoulder, accepting the money with a scoff before handing him the sake bottle.

With a triumphant look on his face, Gintoki popped the bottle open. As he was about to pour another glass for himself, a presence entering the bar caught his eye. Tilting his head, he watched as you went past the door, an evident look of disappointment engraved in your features as you approached the bar. Throwing your handbag onto the seat next to him, you took a seat right next to it.

“One sake bottle, please.” Motioning towards the bartender, you placed your order.

This day had been a disaster in more than one ways imaginable for you; not only had you been stood up by that jerk who insisted on going out with you, but you’d also been stood up on your birthday. You knew that getting involved with him would be a waste of time, yet not once did you consider the possibility of him not even showing up, not even calling you to let you know. Instead you had to spend hours on dolling yourself up, going all the way to Yoshiwara in nothing but a tiny dress, as you waited in the cold for him to show up. All this effort, all this time wasted and for what? To be sitting in a nearly empty red light district bar, all by yourself. Way to celebrate yet another year of being alive.

“I am sorry miss, I am afraid this jer- this gentleman took our last bottle. Is there anything else I can serve you?” The woman asked, gesturing towards the man that was sitting by your side. Considering your distress, you hadn’t even noticed the fact that you weren’t there alone, unaware of the silver haired man’s existence. Turning to face him, you couldn’t help but feel annoyance rise through you. It wasn’t his fault, obviously, that he had taken the last bottle of sake for his own, yet this had to be the icing on top of a horrible day.

Waving towards you in a whimsical way, the man pushed the bottle towards your side, sliding it onto the counter. “You look like you need it more.” He said once the bottle was in your hand. Staring between him and the bottle, you allowed yourself to smirk. “I look that bad huh?”

Returning your smirk, the man got up, making his way to you as you simultaneously pulled your bag from the empty seat, placing it on top of your lap. Taking the seat to your left, he sat down next to you. “Not at all.” Leaning towards you, the man’s hand reached behind your ear. “Interesting Chikorita cosplay though.” Retrieving his hand , you noticed the presence of a rather big leaf between his fingers. Instinctively, you mimicked his previous gesture in an attempt to search for any other remaining leaves residing in your hair.

“That’s what happens when you wait for an hour in the howling wind.” You answered to the man, doing your best to keep yourself as contained as possible. Not that the opinion of a random stranger mattered, but you didn’t want to keep making a fool of yourself in front of others.

Grabbing the bottle he had offered you, you poured some sake into your glass, gulping it down in one go. Feeling guilty that you had quite literally taken the bottle from the man’s hands, you reached another glass from behind the bar, treating him to a drink. The man accepted your offer, following your lead as he took a sip.

“Couldn’t you have chosen a worse day than today to go for a walk and in such a dress? Either you are really brave or really dumb.” He said once had put the glass down.

“That’s so funny.”

“You aren’t laughing.” The man noted, grabbing the bottle and pouring the two of you some more sake.

“I would be if I wasn’t celebrating my birthday at a near empty bar in Yoshiwara, drinking with a man whose name I don’t even know.”

“Sakata Gintoki.” The man, Gintoki, nonchalantly said. Turning to face him, you examined his features as the name Gintoki faintly rung a bell. His naturally wavy silver hair, the deadfish eyes, the wooden sword that was loosely hanging around his waist, could it be?

“Yorozuya?”

“That’s me. Can’t recall you being a client, though.”

“I’m not, you are just infamous, that’s all.” You said, warm liquor going down your throat as you finished your own drink.

“In that case allow me to give you a business card.” Turning his back on you, you watched him work his hands on top of the counter. “We do anything from finding lost pets, to dealing with Mayo freaks, to fighting for the order of the universe or something like that. As long as you pay up, we’ll take on any job. Here.” Shifting around, he turned back to face you once again, this time sliding a piece of paper on the counter. Looking down at it, you could tell that it was a napkin with the name Yorozuya Gintoki and a phone number written on it in a poorly barely readable manner.

“That’s a napkin” You observed.

“A business card.” He countered, pouring you some more alcohol. “All of the budget went onto designing the last panel, you think we have enough to draw proper business cards?”

“Well in that case… I have a job for you.”

Intrigued, he placed the glass back down, flashing you a winsome smile. You weren’t sure if the alcohol was getting to you, but looking at his smiling expression, you couldn’t help but feel attracted to the man. Although his appearance was quite scruffy, far from your usual type, there was a certain charm to him. Maybe today wouldn’t be wasted, you thought as you barely returned the smile.

“Spend the night with me. It is my birthday after all. And don’t worry about the money, I can pay up, let’s just have some fun.”

Considering your offer for a bit, Gintoki grabbed the bottle, this time bringing it to his lips as he finished the remaining sake in one go. With the back of his hand, he wiped his lips clean before banging his fist on the table as he got up.

“Oi granny, I’ll be on my way now. Next time, make sure you stock up on better sake.”

“If you hate it so much then don’t come here again, you punk!” The lady behind the counter raised her voice, obviously irritated by the man’s remarks. Scoffing at her, he readjusted the sword around his waist, making his way towards the exit as he waved his hand at her.

“Are you coming?” This time he spoke to you, beckoning you with his raised hand to follow him. Accepting his offer, you instantly got up, following him outside the bar.

Stepping outside, you could feel goosebumps going up your skin, although to be fair, the howling wind had noticeably calmed down, turning into but a cold autumn breeze. Sure, it still wasn’t mini dress weather, but at least you weren’t shivering as much as before. In fact, your body begun to feel rather warm, courtesy of the alcohol you had previously gobbled up.

“So what do you want to do first?” Gintoki asked, one hand loosely around his belt as he kept on walking. Underneath the neon lights from all the bars and restaurants that were in the area, his hair gleamed through the darkness, silver strands fused with red hues.

“I don’t know, what would you recommend?”

Bringing his other hand onto his hair, you saw him scratching the back of his head as if considering the options. " There are many ways to have fun here. I know a good place for yakitori, then there is that old man who makes great dango. Hmm… perhaps the karaoke place down the street or the arcade next to it. Or else-”

“Let’s just do everything. I’m paying, remember?” Tapping your hand against the purse, you smiled brightly at him as he nodded in agreement.

“Well then, let’s begin!”

The first place the two of you winded up visiting was the karaoke place Gintoki mentioned. Although you had been to a karaoke bar in the past with your colleagues, this was the first time you were going there with a man- a man you barely knew, on top of that. Perhaps this wasn’t the brightest idea, you reckoned, still though, you didn’t want to spend this day all by yourself. And Sakata Gintoki wasn’t a complete stranger either, you had heard stories about Yorozuya and their shenanigans here and there. Plus, he didn’t seem like a bad guy either.

After booking yourselves a room, you ordered some more alcohol, mainly dom perignon, considering how Gintoki insisted that this was the right way to spend one’s birthday. If you didn’t know better, you’d mistake him for a host trying to sell out for bonus commission. Still, you indulged to it, allowing yourself to spend the majority of your income on champagne, a decision you’d come to regret next morning but for now, with each sip of alcohol, your reservations kept diminishing into nothingness. Oh well, that’s a problem for tomorrow you.

Drinking to your hearts contents, the two of you spent at least a couple of hours, singing songs in such an offbeat manner that if anyone heard you, they’d be jeering you. Starting with cheerful pop songs, you danced up and down, doing your best to push all of your worries and sadness away. Even when you didn’t really care about that asshole who stood you up, you could feel yourself getting rather emotional by the time the songs switched to slower ballads. How could he do such a thing to you?

“How could he?” You slurred out loud, falling on top of the couch next to Gintoki as you leaned onto his shoulder. He had stopped singing, keeping his attention on the glass that was between his fingers, twirling it around as he gazed at its content. His entire focus was on the glass, while his previously dead fish eyes were darkened, a hint of sadness tainting him. Although you could tell all the alcohol was getting to you and that you weren’t an excellent judge of character, you could tell there was something in his mind.

“Gintoki. Why were you alone in that bar?” You managed to say, pulling yourself together as best as you could. Shifting his attention from the glass to you, he shrugged his shoulder before leaning back against the couch.

“Kagura is too young to drink and Shinpachi, well… I don’t want to bore him with such trivialities.” You had no idea who these people were, yet you kept listening to him intently, your eyes staring at his lips as he spoke. “Sometimes a man needs to be on his own.” Finally, he brought the glass to his lips, emptying its contents. “Besides, what good is remembering a past you can’t change?”

You couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. Even when his appearance gave out that he was a rather lazy and laid back person, you could tell that there was something more behind those dead fish eyes and nonchalant words of his. Even if your reasons for being at that bar were completely different, the motive was the same; to forget.

“I think I’ve sung enough. If we keep doing that I’ll end up with a sore throat.” You said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. Grabbing his hand, you stumbled back onto your feet, beckoning him to get up. “What’s next?”

Gintoki placed the glass back on the table before taking one of the unopened dom peri bottles with him. Following your lead, he let you guide him outside of the room, the faint melody of yet another sad song fading in the background.

The next station for the two of you ended up being the arcade place next door. This was actually the first time in years that you had visited one, the last time being when you were but a mere child. Looking at all the machines brought you nostalgia, as Gintoki made his way towards the pachinko machines in the far back of the shop.

“Have you played before?” He asked as he sat on a free machine, placing the champagne bottle next to him. Truth be told, you had never really tried pachinko before and in your state, you doubted you could pick up on all the rules of the game. Shaking your head, you sat next to him.

Getting up, Gintoki popped the bottle open, bringing it to his lips for a sip once the foam had subdued. He offered it to you, as you mimicked his movements before placing it on the ground in front of you. Once that was out of the way, the man lowered himself behind you, placing his chin against your shoulder while he snaked his arms around yours. Feeling yourself blushing, you stood still as Gintoki went through the details of the game for you, explaining you the basic concept of it and what you needed to do to win. You could barely focus on his words, as you felt his body pressed flat against you, making you quiver. Under different circumstances, you would be protesting; a man whom you knew for only a few hours being this cozy and handsy with you, even if his purpose was to introduce you to the game. Yet, feeling his warmth you found yourself unable to oppose him, perhaps even indulging in the sensation of the stranger’s touch.

“…And then you turn the handle. Oi, are you listening?” Snapping his fingers in front of you, he managed to wake you up from your thoughts. Nodding frantically, you noticed him sigh before leaning against you once again. “I’ll show you how to play but next round you gotta do it on your own. Put the change here.” Instructing you, he pointed to the left side of the machine where there was a slit. Searching through your bag, you managed to find a few coins, quickly shoving them into it until small silver balls spilled from the machine.

Placing his right hand on top of yours, he guided it around the handle of the machine, wrapping your fingers along with his around the round lever. As he moved your hands up and down, left and right, you couldn’t help but blush looking up to him. Although there was a red tint upon his cheeks -namely because of all the alcohol the two of you had been drinking- he looked rather focused as the flickering lights of the machine gleamed in his maroon eyes. His lips were slightly parted while he slowly blinked, his attention still on the machine. You could tell that he was saying something to you, yet the sound was muffled as your entire attention was on his face. He was so close to you, close enough that if you lifted your head a bit then the two of you would-

“What a bummer.” Retrieving his hand from yours, he walked away from you, going back to his own chair. Although you wouldn’t admit it, you kinda wished that he would have stayed there longer. “But you got the basics now, go ahead, try it.” What basics? The ones he showed you while you were busy eyeing him?

Reaching for the champagne bottle, you took a rather large sip, hoping that with it you’d be able to get some sort of epiphany about the game. Gintoki had already started toying with the machine in front of him and so without any further ado, you started experimenting with yours.

Although you weren’t doing that bad, you weren’t exactly doing great either. Before you knew it, you had spent a small fortune on the game without really gaining any profit. That was until you managed to score somewhat of a jackpot, after playing with the machine for over thirty minutes. The loud beeping sound filled the room, while many of the other players turned to face you, Gintoki included.

“Wow, not bad for a newbie! Now press this and you can get your prize.” The silver haired man said as he leaned towards you once again, pressing a button on the machine. Soon enough, an employee approached the two of you, taking your remaining pachinko balls with him as he went to a counter. Ushering you to follow him, Gintoki took the champagne bottle with him, while the two of you made your way towards the front of the store.

“Here’s your reward, visit us again.” The man behind the counter said in the most unappealing voice. Extending your hand to him, he placed something inside your palm before disappearing back inside the arcade shop. Once he was gone, you opened your hand only to stare down at a pair of silver balls. What the-

“These guys are unbelievable, giving such crude things to a woman!” Gintoki said, as he was about to go back in there to search for the employee. Looking down at your hand and then at him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Surely, you could always sell these silver balls so it wasn’t as if they had no value, yet the incident became funnier over time once you realized that the balls were silver just like his hair.

“Here.” Grabbing his hand, you placed the balls inside his palm. “I don’t need these balls, Gintoki, you can keep them.” Gintoki accepted the balls, his gaze shifting between his hand and your face. Letting out a soft chuckle, he stuffed them in his kimono’s pocket.

“It’s really inappropriate for a woman to keep saying balls. But I’ll take them.”

For a while the two of you walked across Yoshiwara, making your way out of the district, towards the river. There wasn’t much to say, so you kept drinking from the same bottle in silence. You were feeling exhausted from all the walking but you didn’t want to go home yet. Even when everything was getting blurry, even then you wanted to spend more time with Gintoki. You hadn’t even realized how much you needed to talk to someone, to have some casual fun without thinking about all the whats and the ifs. This was the first time in quite a while you were able to let your guard down and it felt exhilarating to be doing that with a complete stranger.

After walking for a while, you stopped by a bench near the river.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Following his order, you sat at the bench, looking at the still waters in front of you while waiting. Bringing the bottle to your lips, you tilted your head in order to drink only to find out that there was no alcohol left. Disappointed, you tossed it next to you as it rolled onto the street. Great. Doing your best to reach it, you got up stumbling, nearly falling onto the ground when a hand grabbed you.

“You are more wasted than I am, huh.” Gintoki exclaimed as he helped you up. In his hands, there were two dango sticks, glazed in sweet soy sauce. “Can’t find cake or anything like that this late. Happy birthday. This one is on me, no need to pay extra.” He said, handing you one of them. Reluctantly, you took the stick from his hand, as tears fell down your cheeks. Even though it was the alcohol making you this emotional, you couldn’t help but wonder, how could a stranger like him be this nice?

“Woah, why are you crying? Don’t tell me you don’t like dango-”

“No, it’s just that… thank you.” Accepting the dango, you flashed a genuine smile to him before taking a bite. The tears were still wetting your cheeks but you tried your best to show your gratitude. He was right, this dango was actually quite good.

“You’re welcome.” His mouth was full of the dango as he talked, making his voice sound rather funny and childish, contrasting his otherwise deeper tone.

The two of you sat back down on the bench, eating in silence. Although you didn’t know what time it was, you could see the first rays of the morning light pouring into the night sky. As much as you wanted to extend this night, it was time to go home.

“I think it’s time I get going.” Turning to face him, you could see the streetlights spinning around as you got dizzier and dizzier. His features were turning blurry, the only thing distinguishable being his silver hair that were framing his face. You couldn’t help but repeatedly bump onto him, your head feeling too heavy to keep still. You were so tired while his warmth was so inviting, you just wanted him to wrap his hands around you like he had previously done at the arcade and let you sleep in his embrace.

“Let’s get you home, then.” Gintoki was the first one to get up, stumbling on his way up. He wasn’t in any better shape, you could tell that he was barely standing while his cheeks were flushed red. “What direction is your home?” He asked, pointing with his index to the left and then to the right. Managing to get yourself on both feet, you leaned against his body, grabbing his hand and then turning it to the left.

The way home wasn’t really long thankfully, although walking without falling to the ground turned out to be quite the formidable task. Bumping into one another while walking, you were laughing to your hearts’ content for seemingly no reason. You hadn’t felt so carefree in such a long time, so light, so free. Being with this man was liberating, even if you never got to see him again, you knew this was a night to remember.

Eventually the two of you reached your house just as the moon disappeared from the sky, leaving nothing but a faint shadow where it previously stood. Nearing the front door, you took a step forward in an attempt to open it. Going through your bag, you managed to locate the keys at the very bottom. Triumphantly, you unlocked the door, tripping on the way in while your fingers were still attached to the key. Just when you thought you were about to fall, a hand grabbed you by the waist pulling you back onto your feet. Once you’d managed to regain your balance, you turned around, facing Gintoki, the two of you temporarily snapping out of your drunken state. He had saved you yet again.

“I-uh… I’m sorry, I get really clumsy when I drink.” You admitted, trying your best not to slur the words while chuckling. His hand was still tight around your waist while you were leaning all of your weight against his shoulder and chest. Your laugh begun to fade once you realized how close you were to him, feeling your own heartbeat against his skin. The tension behind you was palpable at this point, even when you were both completely wasted, the way he held you sparked something within you. Looking deep into his eyes, you gulped softly. You shouldn’t…

“Damn it, I promised Kagura I wouldn’t be late.”

Before you could ask him what he meant, Gintoki closed the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours. The sheer force of the kiss made you take a step back, the two of you stumbling against the iron door. Keeping his one hand around your waist, he slammed the other right above your head, towering you with his height. His lips felt warm and inviting against yours, a lovely contrast when compared to the coldness of the iron surface that sent shivers up your spine. Pressing your body against his, you let your hand wander to his arm, wrapping your other arm around his neck while pulling him closer to you.

Forcing your mouth open with his tongue, Gintoki let his tongue roam freely into your mouth, lazily exploring every bit of you. Although his lips were drenched in alcohol, you could also taste something rather sweet while kissing him, something that resembled the faint taste of fresh strawberries.

Breaking the kiss off, a string of saliva fell onto both your chins, as he backed away, leaving your lips puckering up, begging for more. The man blinked slowly while staring into your eyes, realizing what he had just done. Before he could get any second thoughts about this, you pulled him closer, tugging onto the fabric of his sleeve.

“Would you charge extra if I invited you in?” You inquired, biting your lower lip as you waited for an answer.

“What kind of man would receive money from a woman for such things? I’m not that cheap.” Just as you thought he had turned you down, Gintoki took a step in, holding the door open for you.

The next thing you knew, you were being held down against the first flat surface you encountered, namely the kitchen counter. Wasting no time, the man took hold of your face, cusping your cheeks as his lips clashed into yours. The kiss was sloppy and messy as his tongue moved in sync with his lips, peppering your skin with lazy open mouthed kisses. Trailing a path from your lips to your jawline and eventually your neck, he nibbled on your skin, sucking on it softly, making sure you’d be covered in bruises and love bites by the time he was done with you. The sensation was enough to make you moan, arching your back against his touch, feeling his bulge growing. Unable to help it, you bucked your hips into his, your clothed clit throbbing at the friction between your bodies. Gintoki caught on to what you were trying to do, pulling himself away from your neck as he brought his lips to your ear.

“Bend over.” Coming out like a whisper, the sound of his groggy voice ringing through your ear was enough to send chills up your spine. Considering how drunk he was, he was rather demanding, a fact that made your already wet cunt even wetter.

Obeying his order, you turned around, pulling your dress up while sliding your panties down, letting them fall loosely around your ankles. Once you had exposed your ass to him, Gintoki grabbed both your wrists as he pushed you against the counter without a warning. Keeping them pinned together with one hand, he brought them over your head, making you gasp in return. He was so forceful for a guy you’d only just met, a guy who didn’t even know your name.

Having you right where he wanted to, Gintoki used his other hand to unbuckle his belt, not bothering to push his pants past his thighs. You tried your best to look over your shoulder but his grip wasn’t allowing you to see much. Anticipation begun to rise within you the moment you felt his erection springing from his underwear, the tip grazing your needy cunt. You found yourself wondering what it looked like when he grabbed onto your ass, pushing his cock between your folds with a single move. Instantly your lips formed an o, moaning loudly while your nails dug onto his palms. Although you couldn’t see his expression, you heard him grunt as he backed out, only to thrust into you again, reaching as deep as possible.

At first his pace was slow, letting his cock get engulfed by your walls that were clenching around him with his every move. Even though he wasn’t particularly thick, you could tell how long his cock was by how easily he reached your cervix with each pounding. You were feeling so needy, so desperate, so pathetic under the touch of a guy you’d just met, a detail you kept reminding to yourself. The way he touched you made you feel small, vulnerable even, his frame being much larger than yours as he handled your body like this. He treated you as if you were nothing more than a street’s prostitute he’d met at a back alley, a thought that was only getting you more aroused. Your wrists kept wiggling inside his palm as you tried to break free from his grip. You wanted to touch him, you wanted to feel him, you wanted him.

After a while filled with excruciatingly slow movements, he eventually picked up his speed, skin slapping against skin as he begun to thrust into you quickly, eliciting all sorts of lewd sounds from your lips. Perhaps it was something about the alcohol you’d drunk, or maybe it had to do with him fucking your brains out on your kitchen counter. No matter the case, your senses had started to distort, as you were able to see stars, feelings them ring through your ears like soft chimes. Even when your physical body was right there with him, your mind was flying away, too foggy to form any thought, wave after wave of pure pleasure sending you into a state of complete euphoria.

“G-Gintoki, I think I’m going to c-”

“Is that so?” He inquired between thrusts, his voice slightly shaky as he kept on going. “I’m afraid I’m not quite there yet. Be good for me and hold on a while longer, mhm?” You could do nothing to reply to him, faintly nodding against the cold marble of the counter. He was driving you closer and closer to your orgasm when suddenly he stopped, pulling out completely, leaving you hanging. “Damn it, this won’t do. Turn around, I wanna look at your fucked up expression, birthday girl.”

He allowed you to break free from his grip, as you turned your entire body around to face him. Gintoki moved his hands onto the straps of your dress, sliding them off along with the rest of the fabric until you were standing bare naked in front of him. His gaze fell hungrily upon your body; the man didn’t even try to pretend as if he wasn’t looking at your tits, he was beyond shameless. Curling his lips into a half smile, he squeezed them softly before entering you once again. You were having a hard time keeping together, barely managing to wrap your legs around his torso as he moved closer to you, allowing you to prop your chin against his shoulder for balance.

“G-gin-” You tried calling his name out but there was no way for you to do such a thing, not when his cock was hitting all the right spots.

Soon enough, you found yourself returning to the starry ceiling, coming undone underneath him. Soft whimpers escaped your lips while your walls clenched around his cock, sucking him as he kept pounding you. Unable to keep on going when you felt this tight around him, Gintoki’s movements became inconsistent and sloppy. He was barely able to control himself and his own pace. You could feel his cock throbbing in you, a sign that he was close. The man kept on going, cursing under his breath in slurs, until he eventually pulled out of you.

Although you were barely aware of your surroundings, completely lost in your high, you could feel his arms tense while he jerked himself off to your body. Pumping his length a couple of times, he finally allowed himself to spill his seed, covering your stomach and thighs in creamy white lines, while you kept holding onto him. He was just out of breath as you were, his heart beating quickly against yours while his chest kept moving up and down.

Once he was done, Gintoki wrapped his arms loosely around your waist, placing a rather delicate kiss on top of your head as he held your body. You closed your eyes, inhaling his scent, letting go of all the tension, relaxing in his warm embrace. All the disappointment and annoyance you had felt before entering the bar was gone, the only thought that vaguely remained in your mind being the silver haired man. He had managed to make you forget about everything and everyone as intended.

Slowly but surely, the room around you started to get dark, as you let your eyes shut. Void engulfed you, while hands brushed through your hair lazily in a comforting way. You felt so sleepy, you were so exhausted. The final memory of the night ended up being the faint and distant voice of a man whispering sweet nothings in your ear, complimenting you all the while praising you for being such a good girl.

The next time you opened your eyes, you were rather confused. Where were you, what had happened, why did your head feel as if a brick fell onto it and why were you so sore? You tried to answer these questions, squinting your eyes as you tried to get up. Surprisingly enough you were naked, laying underneath the covers of your soft bed while you begun to recollect what had occurred the previous night. The coworker, the bar, the alcohol, the intoxicating flavor of the silver haired man. Instinctively, you looked to your side, searching for him, Gintoki. Much to your disappointment, no one was there. Had you really imagined all that? No, it couldn’t be…

You weren’t even sure how much time had passed, everything was too uncertain, too unclear, too cloudy. Although there was light outside, there was no telling what time it was. Hopefully a cold glass of water would help sober you up, you thought and so, with a sigh, you got up. Tossing a robe over your naked body, you made your way to the kitchen where a small piece of paper that was lying on the counter caught your attention. What was this?

Picking up the paper, you realized it was a napkin, one that you could have sworn you’d seen before. On the napkin was a phone number along with some barely readable words.

“Happy birthday! Contact Yorozuya Gin next time you need a drinking buddy, free of charge. P.S. That guy missed out, forget about him.”

hi!! could u do married life with gintoki plz?? hcs or scenario whichever u prefer i just want to think about what its like to be miss sakata >////< thx!

I was going to make it into pure married life, but I really wanted to include how the whole proposal and wedding happened. So yay for freebies ^^

Being Gintoki's Wife Headcanons

Warning: slight nsfw towards the end.

Congratulations, you married the protagonist of the anime. That's the equivalent of hitting the jackpot, except you wouldn't be so broke after guessing the winning numbers to the lottery. Hey, no one said that being Yorozuya Gin's wife wouldn't have its disadvantages!

Proposal

The way he proposed to you was... quite interesting. He was a nervous mess and tried to calm down by going down the booze route, which led to him being both inebriated and awkward. You'd been dating for quite a while and he was certain that he could finally tie the knot with you (Thank Kagura, Shinpachi and Otose for pushing him to it). With you he felt comfortable to be who he is, knowing that you loved him despite his flaws. He was always at home whenever you were around, though actually proposing was nerve wracking.

If he was left alone to do it, perhaps he'd just toss you a ring and leave it at that. But, because communism exists, his marital business is Yorozuya's marital business and they'd sit him down and explain that unless he tries to at least be a bit romantic, you'd be disappointed. In reality, Kagura said that you'd leave with another man if you did that, a fact that managed to get him all stressed up in the first place.

And so, Gin really did his best planning a memorable proposal. He took you out to a fancy restaurant, wore his *rented* tuxedo, bought a ring worth of 10 rents which he placed into the champagne glass (courtesy of Otae). It was the perfect night! Or... so it was, until he started chugging glass after glass, eventually forgetting that a ring was placed in one of them and... yes. He swallowed the ring.

I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't noticed and went along with his proposal, voicing the little speech he had prepared with the guys the previous night, though be it half slurring and messing up halfway. It was a wonder you said yes, but it was a bigger wonder that he had managed to swallow a wedding ring without even being aware of it. Of course, that was something he kept hidden from you, and will probably keep it hidden even until after your children have children of their own. It's embarrassing, don't blame him!

At the end, he admitted leaving it at home, a far less shameful option. You parted ways and no one really asked why he spent the next 6-8 hours in the bathroom. The next day, you had a gorgeous shining ring around your finger, and an exhausted Gintoki by your side.

The wedding

Most likely Gintoki wished for a simple ceremony with those closest to you. Mainly because it would cost less but also because he isn’t one for extravagant parties. A wedding is a union and while he never hid your relationship, he’d be a bit flustered about saying such important words in public.

He did tell Kagura and Shinpachi, as those closest to him. And of course, Shinpachi told Otae, who told Kyuubei and then the entire Yagyuu clan had to pay their respects. Perhaps Gin also let Katsura know, not actually expecting him to show up, though he did and so did the Shinshengumi. At the end of the day, the entire cast was standing before you, some arguing and throwing bombs at one another, while others were too busy stuffing food in bento boxes. The quiet wedding you dreamt off turned into a bit of a fiasco, but everyone enjoyed themselves and so did you and Gin.

Honeymoon Period

I doubt that Gin could afford a proper honeymoon vacation, but perhaps Otose chimed in a bit, giving him enough money to take you somewhere decent as a wedding gift. Don’t think Hawaii or Paris or anything, but he did take you to an idyllic little fishing village or to a lovely mountain settlement.

The time you spent there was quiet and peaceful, unlike your everyday life in the city. It was a welcoming change and for once, you found yourself wishing that it would last more than a few days. Before you knew it, vacation time was over and you were back at Kabukicho.

Married Life

During the first few months, Gintoki would probably put on his good face. He'd be sweeter than usually to you, even going as far as to plan "romantic pizza nights in front of the tv" with candles all around. That would be his basic idea for a date night, but don't worry, he'll keep it up in the future too, minus the candles.

Another type of date time would probably be board game nights, either with just the two of you or his friends. If you end up winning too much, I wouldn't be surprised if Gin decided to flip the table or go as far as to cheat. If you catch onto him and scold him about his behavior, then he'd try to use other means to "win" ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) He is shameless, after all.

Surprisingly enough, Gin isn't bad at doing chores, though he does complain about it. Considering the nature of his job, it's not too uncommon for him to have days off, and so, if you are the one with a more stable 9 to 5 kinda job, he doesn't mind taking over the housework. Mostly to keep cockroaches at bay ;-;

If he is the only one to do chores, he'll start nagging about how you married him just to turn him into a housewife. Bribing him with something tasty, whether that is food or you, is bound to make him forget about it, for the time at least.

Speaking of food, a fun activity Gin would enjoy, is cooking with you. He mostly enjoys eating whatever it is that you make for him (supposing it's not burnt tamagoyaki or rice with egg on a daily basis), but if you suggest making something together, he'll find it just as fun and exciting. He doesn't always follow the recipes and a lot of the time he ends up slacking off, tossing ingredients such as flour on your bare face just to get a laugh out of it. In no time, such a notion would lead to an all out kitchen war. Just make sure that he cleans the mess afterwards, considering it's his fault.

Despite Gin picking up on chores, he can be very messy, turning your house into a dorm. Half finished ramen, jump magazines scattered around, tissues and cans, he leaves disaster in his trail. He will clean when he realizes you need a boat to pass through each room, or, if you order him to.

Perhaps at one point, you both tried to better yourself and engage into some more sophisticated hobbies, such as wine tasting or museum touring. Every couple gets to a point when they look at other couples and wonder if they are doing things wrong. But neither expensive wines or impressionism did it for you, and so you went back to your old habits in no time. It's better when you don't have to pretend around each other.

After a quick detour, back to Gin's messiness we go. He is the type to spend an awful long time in the bathroom, not because he is doing anything weird, but because he takes his jump with him. He can sit on the toilet for hours on end, not even realizing how long it's been.

Whenever he showers or baths, you will definitely know because of the endless stream of water and hot steam following after him. It looks as if someone copy-pasted Venice in your house and Gin isn't apologetic in the slightest over it. The main cause of it, is because he refuses to dry himself up, choosing to wander around the rooms with just a towel. Now if you scold him, he has no issue jumping on top of you with the sole intention of drying his body against your clothes.

Naturally, it doesn't take long for things to get heated, and I can definitely imagine him smirking while saying "Now I'm not the only one who's wet". Shameless, I told you. Besides, he is also the one who jumps into the shower with you if he is in a hurry, without even bothering to ask if it's fine.

Gin isn't against self care. He doesn't admit it, but in order to keep his hair tamable, he uses A LOT of products. Could have an entire shelve dedicated to hair products only, no surprises here. He might tease you if he sees you using a face mask sheet, though if you offer him one, he'll allow you to pamper him, asking you to check how soft his skin is 24/7.

A nice thing Gin does from time to time, is massages. If you come back tired from work, he'll have no issue rubbing your feet, your shoulders, and anywhere else you need him to *wink wink*. Again he'll bring up the "housewife" argument, but he is more than happy to take care of you.

On the contrary, a nasty thing Gin most definitely does, is start calling you old hag. Even changes your contact name to that and acts as if you are some old lady, despite being of similar age to him. Don't, just... don't ask.

Generally, you don't argue a lot and your fights consist of really petty and childish arguments, such as who gets to watch what on the tv. Usually it ends with him sitting on the remote to prevent you from touching it. Or, on cold winter nights, he ends up hoarding the blanket, leaving you to shiver alone while playing tug war with his sleepy self.

At times, Gin experiences severe nightmares about his past. It's something he can't let go off completely, and although he chooses to ignore it in his daily life, he can't control his subconscious. There isn't much for you to do, as he won't be willing to talk about it. However, wrapping your arms around him, assuring him that it's fine, that you are there and that he did his best, will definitely help.

His sex drive does die a bit after you get married, but it's not much of an issue. If you initiate things, he'll almost always be up for it, and he definitely has his "hornball" moments. If you are doing the dishes, he'll be doing you. If you are in it for a relaxing bath time, he'll have you sit between his legs. If he sees you all dressed up for a work event or an outing with a friend, he'll most likely undress you first.

Randomly slaps your butt from time to time whenever you pass before him. If you scold him, he chuckles while giving you the look to know that if you are up for it, he is also up for it. Lots of heated times on the couch, considering he is sometimes too lazy to move things to the bedroom.

Finally, kids is not something in his immediate plans. In fact, he'll try to postpone such talks until you enter the second year of marriage, if not more. He'll always go "La la la la la" at the mention of such things, but if you sit him down and ask him to have a family, he'll groan and take you to bed right away. After all, how can he say no to you?

DO THESE BOYS IN FURIN ACTUALLY HAVE CLASSES?? Where are the teachers?? Are they getting an education? Do they just hang out in this abandoned school and wear school uniforms? I am worried about their future.

blushing sakura in every episode (◕‿◕)♡ [1/?]

##. MY HEART'S GOING LUB-DUB

♡ things he has said that flustered you.

♡ contents and warnings: established relationships, mentions of making out (nirei), mentions of marriage (sakura), reader’s ears are pierced in suou’s, mild, mild, possessiveness in suou's but not really 🐧

♡ characters: sakura haruka, nirei akihiko, suou hayato (x gn! reader)

Anyone who knows SAKURA HARUKA probably knows that contrary to the delinquent facade he puts up, he is actually quite innocent. A little naive, if you will, blushing at every show of romantic affection. And everyone in Boufuurin knows that’s why he’s become subject to Suou Hayato’s teasing when the brown haired boy needed a good chuckle. And of course, you, as his very lovely partner, had to also jump on the bandwagon of endearingly poking fun at your boyfriend. 

“Y’know, Haruka, you should stop me or else I’m gonna get carried away and keep teasing you even after we get married!” This was a sentence you often say for laughs after you had yet again successfully made Haruka agitated and his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red, all the way up to his ears. Granted, the first time he heard it he couldn’t look you in the eye for two whole days at the mention marriage (it’s not that he doesn’t like it, in fact it was because he likes it a little too much that he couldn’t even make eye contact without imagining you in fancy white attire). But now, he barely bats an eye at it now with how often you say it. But today, it’s evident that that particular sentence had poked at someone’s curiosity as you can sense someone staring at you as you banter with your boyfriend. 

“You know, Sakura-kun, I barely see you reacting to... that. You’re really planning to marry them in the future, huh?” Ah, it's Suou again. His soothing voice drips with mischief, the purpose of his question is obviously to tease his heterochromatic eyed peer yet again. Haruka’s features morph into one of confusion, brows furrowed as he turns to face his vice captain. 

“Hah? What are you talking about?” Haruka inquires like suou’s question is the most ridiculous question in the world. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought suou was asking him if he believed pigs could fly, or if the earth was actually a hexagon. 

(Of course, you can’t lie, suou’s question made you nervous despite how lighthearted he said it. Your self consciousness has already prepared itself for a heartbreak trip as you await your boyfriend to continue his response.)

“Why would I date someone I don’t intend on marrying?” 

Ah, now it’s your cheeks that are heating up. 

“Are you done?” The only answer SUOU HAYATO offers to your inquiry is a focused hum. His hand fumbles with the earring, his earring, as he tries to carefully slide the hook into the small hole on your right earlobe. Though, you have to say, you have nothing particular to complain about as you wait for your boyfriend to put the earring on you. After all, you’re getting the privilege of being in the front seat staring at Suou Hayato’s face as he carefully tries to put the earring on you. Lips pursed and eyes squinted a little, he looks extra handsome when he’s focused, you note. 

“Just need to secure them with the back. And... done!” he heaves out a breath as triumph takes over his features, pulling back slightly to admire his (hardly) hard work. His lips stretch into a smile, satisfied at how the red and yellow of his earring highlights your features more. 

“How does it look?” you feel quite nervous as you wait for his reply, shyly peering at him through your eyelashes. Being so close, you have the advantage of watching closely for any twitch of his features that might indicate satisfaction, dissatisfaction, anything that can indicate what kind of reaction he’s going to emit. 

You twitch slightly at the sensation of his pointer finger and middle finger grazing your chin, touch gentle as he settles them there. You swear you see something flashing in his usually gentle ruby eyes. Something akin to satisfaction, or, even, possessiveness. But you don't comment on it. He moves your head from your side to side as if to examine you thoroughly. (he quietly notes how cute you are for compliantly moving your head.) It’s only when you feel the earring faintly brushing against your right shoulder that you become hyper aware of how empty your left ear feels without an earring weighing it down. You also become hyper aware of the fact that the earring’s pair is still dangling from his left ear, eyes instinctively flitting to it. Your cheeks begin to heat up. Oh, it’s almost as if you’re wearing a couple ite-

He interrupts your thought before you can finish it.

“I quite like it, it’s pretty on you,” his voice breaks your train of thought. His smile is quite literally dripping with mischief, and now you can clearly see it. The tint of greed in his eyes is back as he moves his fingers that were formerly resting on your chin to stroke at the earring on your ear. His composed facade would have fooled you if it weren’t for the words he utters next.

“It gives off the feeling that you’re mine.” 

Oh he likes it, alright. Too much, maybe.

“Sorry. D’you need a break?” NIREI AKIHIKO’s voice is devoid of any teasing lilt, instead dripping with concern as he gazes at you through his eyelashes, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed with a pretty tint of pink. 

It’s not the words by themselves. It’s the fact that he’s saying those words in this kind of situation. By this kind of situation, you mean with you perched up on his lap, legs splayed on either side of his thighs as he lay seated on a couch beneath you. He had uttered those exact words after what felt like 10 minutes straight of kissing

(it hadn’t even been 5 minutes, but you could barely think with how clouded your mind is). 

His question was thoroughly leaking with worry, caramel orbs boring through you as he awaits your reply. You wanted to say yes, hell, your lungs were begging you to say yes as they heaved desperately yes. You have to give your boyfriend credit, though. Sweet like always, he had noticed he had gone a little too far when he felt your lips part with breathless whines on his, and had asked if you needed a time out. Though, you don’t think he’s aware of how his voice shakes with want, or how his fingers that are resting on your hips squeezed hard like he was trying to ground himself, or how his eyes are swirling with something akin to need.

(or how he barely sounded apologetic when he apologized, and you suspect it’s because his pride soars with the knowledge that he’s the one making you breathless.)

“No,” you’re surprised at how hoarse your voice sounds, though, that is to be expected after you quite literally just had your breath taken away. Your thumb reaches out to swipe at his quivering bottom lip, gleaming with saliva and a little swollen from pressing against yours repeatedly. He leans into your touch, and you gulp away the feeling of your tugging heartstrings. “Keep kissing me, lover boy.” 

And as he lurches forward to clash your lips together again, the last thought that etches on your mind was that he really should put this on his resume: Nirei Akihiko, 16, not good at fighting (yet), hella good at kissing. 

GAY! 🫵🏾

( ☆ ) — SILVER LOCKET

pairing: chishiya shuntaro x gn!doctor!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, established trust

warnings: none

a/n: s1/beach setting. i really inserted myself as the reader here :sobs: i wanna comfort him so bad TT this is chishiya recognizing his obliviousness and realizing he cares for you hehe

his cold gaze followed your figure through the crowd of people. your unhurried stroll made you stand out amongst the other returning players who filed into the hotel hastily, rushing into the arms of those they lived another day to see. what caught him off guard wasn’t your ambling, but the faraway look on your face. your eyes pointed straight ahead as if there was something in front of you no one else could see. direct, but distant enough not to be confused with determination. you seemed distracted. at least, more than usual. it was as if you were completely disconnected from your surroundings.

“must’ve been a tough game.” kuina muttered through her makeshift cigarette, also taking in your strange behavior.

chishiya didn’t reply. even during particularly difficult games, you always came back surging with relief. tonight should have been no different.

kuina glanced at his furrowed brows in amusement. she chuckled. “if you’re worried, why don’t you go check on them?”

“i’m not worried,” he monotonously retaliated. “they’ll figure it out.”

and with that, the two allies parted ways. kuina took her leave to the mess of partiers near the poolside while chishiya sauntered on back to his room.

pale walls and dim lighting surrounded his path. but at the sound of a hauntingly familiar voice, his personal solace was destroyed.

was that sobbing?

chishiya wasn’t so easily fazed, this was the borderlands after all. except… it was coming from your room. the longer the cries continued, the further the chills travelled down his spine. what had him so affected by your muffled wails?

he halted his movements and listened intently from the other side. it was absolutely breathtaking to hear your carefully manufactured sanity collapse on itself. and behind a closed door no less, as to not alert others, made chishiya feel like he was now responsible for a secret. such noises heard between two people could only equate to intimacy.

and then he remembered the wall was still there.

how fascinating that one person could be aware of both at the same time the other was aware of neither.

cautiousness must have escaped you. otherwise, you would’ve picked a more secure spot to release your pent up sorrows. chishiya could only figure your tears let themselves out before you had a chance to truly process your emotions.

he was not quite sure what force pushed him to softly bang his knuckles against the door. the second he did, the sobs abruptly stopped — much to his dismay.

it wasn’t unlike chishiya to show up at your door unexpectedly, especially after a game. the knocking though, that was new. usually he would silently slither in and purposely startle you to catch you off guard.

“oh. hey, chishiya,” you greeted after opening the door.

he analyzed your appearance, taking note of the damp spots littering the cuff of your sleeve. waltzing in like he owned the place, chishiya took a seat on your bed while you opted to sit on the floor, knees huddled to your chest and your back against the wall. the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, waiting for the other to say something.

“i used to be a doctor in the real world.” you were the first to break it.

chishiya’s eyebrows raised slightly, indicating wonder, but something held his tongue from responding.

you continued despite his lack of engagement, “going into the field, i knew there were going to be times where i wouldn’t be able to save a life. no matter how much i desperately wanted to.” you paused for a moment and then opened your mouth again, “i guess i eventually got a handle over it back then. but now… i don’t know.” you let out a defeated sigh. “nothing could have prepared me for the mortality we face here. it pains me every time i witness a death that could have easily been prevented. it’s stupid, i know. i just think it’s been catching up to me recently.”

his lips formed a tight line in a sort of acknowledgment. of course you had been a doctor in your previous life. you had the intellect and the emotional capacity perfect for the job. him on the other hand…

chishiya lacked EQ, and he was aware of that. sure, he could evaluate emotions on a surface level and control his own without struggle, but beyond that his sincerity was merely a play. he could sweet-talk his way through the job, hiding his apathy behind an artificial smile. everything about being a doctor — being a human — felt mundane to him.

“i was one too.”

he noticed your face light up and something in his gut squeezed. why did he suddenly feel nervous?

“so, you understand then?”

he shook his head, blond strands heeding the pattern. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “no… i’m not sure i do.”

you looked at him with confusion and his mouth began to move against his better judgement.

“i don’t care about patients. people in general. i have no interest in their struggles.”

and instead of laughing, instead of insulting him for being insensitive, your eyes held genuine curiosity. why were you acting like this was a normal conversation? like he was a normal human being? it utterly pained him, but that innocent glint only motivated him to proceed.

“i assumed going into healthcare would help me determine if i’m capable of caring for others. but so far it’s only made me feel lost...” he trailed off and stopped himself before he could admit anything else.

your head tilted. “how so?”

chishiya internally kicked himself. even if he hadn’t said much, he didn’t meant to expose himself like that. you could practically see the aggravation radiating off of him as his jaw tensed. he swiftly stood up and avoided your gaze, dismissing the subject. “nothing. never-mind.”

and with that, he turned to leave. your eyes widened. “w-wait. wait, chishiya.” your pleads fell upon deaf ears as he began to turn the handle. “shuntaro.”

you both froze. that was the first time you had used his given name. at first, you instantly felt guilty about it, not knowing if it was appropriate to let that kind of intimacy slip. knowing him, he wouldn’t ever let it go. but you were so close to unlocking the parts of him that he normally kept hidden. you decided it was a risk you had to take.

“why…”

he cut you off, “i’m merely an imitation of human nature. a shell of a human being. it’s not worth trying to pry anything more from me.”

you rolled your eyes. “i think i can decide that for myself.” you grabbed his arm and dragged him back into the room. he was stiff but to your surprise, he gave up fighting back.

“why’d you bother to come here?”

why did he?

this seemed to be the first question chishiya encountered that truly had him stumped. no amount of IQ could solve whatever equation was being presented here. what variable was he missing?

“you’re wrong.”

you hadn’t even muttered anything about it and he was already denying you.

“what? i haven’t—”

“i know what you’re about to think. so don’t say it.”

you shut your mouth; a silent urge to get him to continue. he must’ve already been another step ahead, as he grew quiet too.

you started again, “i think you’re envious of something.”

well, that wasn’t what he had anticipated but you were right nonetheless. you took his silence as a confirmation. “sometimes i wish i could be as apathetic as you. weird, right?” you let out a halfway laugh and shook your head. “maybe it’s an asset in the healthcare world, but here, empathy is a liability. i guess we each want what we don’t have.”

you noticed chishiya frown for a split second before his face returned to a blank slate. “i’m fine.” but it seemed like he was reassuring himself more than convincing you of it.

you hummed. “your philosophy is flawed by the way.” you smirked at his quizzical expression. since when were you able to dissect him so effortlessly? “i know you believe you were only given life to prove something. about what, i don’t really know. you’re complicated, chishiya. but you’re not what you think you’re made out to be.”

chishiya stared at you like you were now some foreign entity with five heads. he scoffed. “i find selflessness pointless and kindness idiotic. i’m a hollowed out version of humanity’s worst flaws.”

you smiled. out of every action you could have taken against him, you smiled. you found his rare vulnerability endearing. but more than that, it comforted you that even people like chishiya, condescending and calculating as he was, could have moments of naïveté just like you.

“flawed, yes—”

he quietly took offense to that.

“every human is flawed. but hollow? yeah, you can be selfish and sociopathic at times. but there’s more to your character than that, you know? not everything about you has to be conventional for you to be human.”

as the moments progressed, you began to get the sense that it wasn’t his ego preventing him from realizing his faults. no, chishiya was scared to be proven wrong.

“you heard me crying. i could see a sliver of your shadow from beneath the door. you waited there for like, 5 minutes at least. i’d say sadistic, but i think that’s what you want us both to think. truth is, it’s not that simple, is it?”

“i told you to stop.”

“not explicitly. you told me i was wrong, which i know is a lie.”

his tone intensified. “what are you hoping to get out of this?”

“not me. you. why did you knock on my door?”

oh, but if he said it aloud, that would make it real. that was what scared him.

you saw the faintest twitch of his muscles relaxing. he felt safe here, in this room. safe, but all the more sullen.

when he came knocking on your door, how did he not see it sooner that it was you knocking through him?

like a silver locket, the guarded surface of his heart witnessed your desperate hand. searching, grasping for any line chishiya would throw your way. and once past the metal bars came your raised fist. your knock reverberated against his heart, echoing throughout the dark chamber.

maybe he was wrong. maybe he wasn’t the only one that felt lost. maybe you had been lost too.

yet, somewhere in that deep labyrinth, somewhere in the midst of his cold warmth, you found place buried between the crevasses.

and somewhere along the way, somewhere along the stethoscope that connected his beating heart to yours, he found you too.

© kzuromi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, translate, etc. reblogs are appreciated!

simon swore up and down he’d never want kids, he was certain he’d end up just like his old man and he would rather die than let a child grow up how he did. he tells you, “look at the state of me, yeah? not exactly father material, am i? i’m tapped in the head, ‘ts not fair to give a kid any of that.” as he taps his temple with his pointer finger.

years pass, and those words echo in your mind as he holds your chubby baby in his rough hands, one gently splayed on their soft tummy while the other supports their head. he’s gently suspending your baby in the air, mimicking helicopter noises as they squeal and giggle happily. simon has the biggest grin on his face as your 3 year old begs him to let them have a turn as a rileycopter, small hands tugging on his cargo pants with pouty lips.

not exactly father material, simon? you beg to differ.

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part eighteen —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Over the next four days, you find yourself panting in exhilaration each morning you spar with Ghost. Every slam of your hand into his ribs feels strangely better than the last. He goes harder on you. He'd been holding back, too, apparently— an unfortunate fact for your ribs. The pain seems to motivate you more, even if he is still beating the shit out of you.

Blue also motivates you. "Hit his nose again!"

Of course, that is the one part of him you purposely avoid.

The sun returns and sweat glides down your face. You knee his stomach. It's less vulnerable than swinging a kick, but still, he attempts to grab you by the waist. You quickly skirt away, the ground firmer beneath your feet, only for his hand to latch onto one of your braids, instead. A sting pulses through your scalp as he tugs hard, wrenching your ear close to his mouth.

"Quicker. Good. But don't get too cocky."

"I thought you wanted me to be more confident," you retort between ragged breaths. 

"Yes, but you can't forget who has the advantage here." There is the slightest bit of arrogance in his voice that makes your teeth grit.

"How could I ever forget?" Your head tilts and he releases the braid. Suddenly, the thought of smacking his nose again doesn’t seem so bad.

His eyebrow quirks. "Get some water, Twix. You need it."

The water caresses your tongue as you gulp it down without abandon. Unsurprisingly, Blue has disappeared somewhere in the treetops. The lack of more broken bones has waned her interest.

When Ghost lifts his mask to drink, you steal a glance at his nose, noticing that the swelling has gone down significantly. The fact he is still wearing that thing with a broken nose upholds your theory that he is at least slightly insane— as if the fact that he once shoved a gun into your fresh wound wasn’t already evidence of that.

Out of nowhere, he materializes beside you and places a hand on your stomach. Your sore muscles spasm under the surprise of his touch, his long fingers stretching from one side of your ribs to the other.

"Your strength starts here,” he explains in a hoarse murmur. “Keep it tight and you will deliver more damage."

You purse your lips to hide a wince and tap your nose. "Don’t I already deliver enough damage?"

"The nose is fragile. You may be landing more hits on me, but I still hardly feel a thing from them."

He allows you to pry his hand off, but the pressure of it seems to linger. Ghost studies you in a way that turns you translucent before demanding, "Lift your shirt, Twix."

Exhaling through your nose, you hesitate before peeling it up, revealing the collection of bruises you have earned from him. A myriad of pink, purple, and yellow skin flares up under his gaze. They have been giving you a hard time lacing your boots and tying your hair in the morning, but once you get moving, the ache becomes easier to ignore.

He has already seen your stomach and more, yet, your skin itches from the exposure. You shove the shirt back down.

His expression shifts. "You should have said something."

"They're just bruises. I'm not bleeding or anything."

"Still."

"Still what?"

He looks irritated. "You need to fucking communicate."

"I don't see why it matters. No coddling, right?"

"That doesn't mean I'm interested in breaking you."

You jerk your chin up to meet his stare. “You won't."

Blue swings down from a tree, plopping between the two of you and unintentionally—thankfully—putting an end to the subject. "I'm glad you two are finally getting along. It's good for the team." She nudges her dad. "But are you done with her yet? You can't just hog Twix all to yourself."

He clears his throat and the air between your bodies breathes wider. "If you're getting bored maybe we need to find something for you to practice."

"Nope!" she says quickly. "Not bored at all." 

He nods to a tree. "Go on. Practice your knives. You haven't done that in a while. Then, you can have her."

With a groan, she trudges away. 

The sparring continues.

Ghost's fists soften by a smidge.

"He annoys the shit out of me sometimes."

Blue rips up a tuft of grass as you inch back to admire the swipe of color on her eyelids. It was her idea to use the bold-colored flowers for makeup— just like the models in her magazines. You did your best to mash the petals and mix them with some creekwater, but the result is kind of patchy and not nearly as smooth as the stuff you used to put on years ago. 

"Hold still. I'm doing your cheeks next."

The sun highlights the splash of freckles on her cheeks and you try to recall if Ghost had them. Her nose is nothing like his. A dainty button. Another trait she must've gotten from her mom. 

"Did you used to wear makeup?" she asks curiously, eyelashes fluttering down. 

"Sometimes. Especially when I went out."

"Went out where?"

Concentration nudges between your brows. "To clubs and stuff. It's where people would... dance."

Her lips spread as she cocks her head to the side in a manner that emulates her dad. You have to remind her again to stop moving. “Oh. Sorry. You danced?"

"I mean, not good dancing. Just dancing for fun,” you murmur, shrugging at the faint memories of being sandwiched between strangers, alcohol flowing through your veins rather than fear and adrenaline. Back then, mornings were spent nursing a hangover before class rather than earning bruises from an ex-lieutenant. 

Humor dances in her eyes when they reopen. "I don't think Ghost ever went to a club. I cannot imagine him dancing."

The images in your mind morph into something utterly laughable— him standing there like an immovable tank as people try to dance around him. "No, probably not."

"He never really tells me about his life before shit happened," she says thoughtfully. 

This piques your curiosity, but you keep your voice light. "No?"

"Well, he tells me the simple stuff. Mostly about his job. But never... never the small things, you know? Like I have no idea what he used to do for fun or what his life was like when he was a kid." She pauses a moment before adding, "He had a brother. That much I know."

You glance up. "Had?"

"He died before the virus. His mom and dad, too. But every time I ask how they died, he just says," she deepens her voice, "'Doesn't matter how, kid. Dead is dead.'"

"Oh, um, yeah, that sounds like something he would say." You tap your fingers under her chin. "I can put some on your lips, too."

Her eyes close again as she puckers her lips out. When you're done, she continues. "He also never talks about my mom." Her face twists. “I think he thinks talking about her will hurt my feelings."

For a few seconds, you struggle to find a response. The rare mention of her mom always makes your heart stutter, but this time, your broken, callused hand reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

"It's okay to feel hurt, you know."

Blue shrugs and looks up at the cobalt sky. "I don't think I remember her enough to feel that hurt anymore. She feels so... far away. I remember small things, like the sound of her voice and her old apartment where I lived, but sometimes I wonder if I am making up those memories, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean." A terrible urge sits on your tongue to ask her more about her mom, about what exactly her relationship was like with Ghost, but Blue changes the subject before you can.

"Does the makeup look good?" A shy blush clouds her cheeks.

You stand up with a faint smile. "I think I did pretty damn good. Come on. I want you to go look in the mirror."

Music.

It pounds so hard you feel it in your chest.

Neon walls enclose you as someone touches your backside, dancing against you. There is a man's voice in your ear that you think you recognize but it's hard to hear him through all the laughing and chatter. Your hair falls in loose curls down your back, free of braids, and you swipe it from your sweaty skin before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

You push through the people. The narrow hall is shrouded with different doors... so many doors. Where is the bathroom? It must be a Friday night on Oxford Street with how fucking crowded and stuffy this place is. Someone knocks into you roughly and your footsteps quicken. A sense of urgency drags you into the next door you come across, a large one made of grey oak.

The smell is horrendous but you feel relieved to see urinals and stalls. Immediately, you press into the granite counter and grip the edge as you catch your breath. The scratched, warped mirror houses a face covered in makeup. Youthful eyes. Flushed cheeks. How much have you had to drink? You need to go home. You will pee and then go home, you tell yourself. Over and over, you repeat this as you relieve yourself in one of the graffiti-doused stalls where condom and tampon wrappers crinkle beneath your heels.

When you're done, you try for the large door you came through, but it doesn't budge. The muffled music outside has faded. Panic sears your chest. You press your back against the door. The bathroom has changed. The stalls are gone. The walls feel like they are closing in, and the smell of piss turns into something even worse. You are alone. Where is the man you came with? You look down. Dead bodies. Strewn limbs. You're standing on a pile of them.

You start screaming. Banging on the door. Digging your fingers into the wood until the flesh rubs down to bone. 

It's not a room anymore, but a box. The fluorescent lights replaced by sheer darkness.

The edges of the door disappear.

A sickening silence replaces your screams.

And then—

"Twix."

You sit up, wild-eyed. You grip onto something—fabric—and a foul taste travels up your throat without warning. You heave several times, your entire body shuddering. 

When awareness settles in, you wipe your mouth and blink up. Ghost. He is... here. Hovering over you. His shirt is tightly bunched between your fingers and you have just vomited into it. The realization smacks you awake and you recoil sharply, staring at his moonlit mask with an expression that must be just short of mortified.

"I... Fuck. I am so sorry. I don't know why— I just..."

When you dare to look at the mess you've left on him, you nearly vomit again. Hands shaking, you rub at your clammy face and begin to ramble unthinkingly as his stare flickers between you and his soiled shirt.

"I've been trying so hard not to hold back like you said, but I think it is fucking me up a little and letting out some things— memories, I guess. I was pretty good about keeping it all in my box because I've been too tired to even think about it, but now I just..." You trail off, realizing your words must make little sense. 

"You've certainly let something out," he rasps.

Your hands drop against the sofa and you cringe. "I'll wash it for you. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

You inhale. "I just fucking threw up on you."

"I'm aware."

Ghost straightens. He pinches the collar of his shirt and carefully hoists it over his head. Then, you're looking at his bare chest. Slivers of moonlight caress rigid brawn and mountainous scars that capture your gaze for a few heartbeats before you tear it away. 

"I'll, um, hang it outside and... wash it in the morning." 

Your legs are unnervingly steady when you stand up and take the shirt from him, carefully grabbing it by a dry spot. You are relieved to get away from him, draping it over the porch and swallowing gulps of fresh air before you go back inside, praying he's gone back to bed.

Luckily, he has. When the empty living room greets you, you sink to the sofa and palm your eyes. Then, you notice something left on the pillow. A cigarette. You pick it up and recall the few times you smoked whenever your friends offered one. The taste never sat well with you. 

You rummage for your lighter. The first inhale burns terribly, but you cough into the pillow and try again. It starts to calm you down after a few times, and only when you've gotten to the butt of it do you go back to sleep.

"No wonder you're not getting stronger if you throw up like that every night."

Not even five minutes into training the next morning he brings it up. The rest of your sleep ended abruptly when he got you up at an unearthly time, probably to avoid having Blue as an audience. You are too winded to even scowl, your fists held tight in front of your face as you try to predict where he will aim next.

"I told you. That was the first night in a while." 

"Right. Something about a box, huh?"

"Can we just forget about it, please?"

"Hard to forget when my shirt still smells."

"I washed it the best I could."

The next dodge has your head flying down fast enough to undo one of your braids. Hair slips over your face and you huff, holding your hand up. "Hold on. Give me a minute."

As you undo the other one and opt for shoving your hair into a tight bun instead, he watches you strangely. The feel of his stare ignites a spark of irritation and you flash him a sideways glance. "Look, thank you for the cigarette and everything else you have ever done for me, but you can stop looking at me like that. Like you... pity me. I'm not going to break, I'm not going to ask you to kill me again. Everyone left in this world has nightmares and mine probably aren't the worst of them."

"I don't pity you," he says. "I am just trying to understand you."

"Why?" You finish the bun and drop your arms awkwardly at your sides. 

"It's important to understand your ally."

"Oh. Is that what we are?"

His eyes narrow. "Obviously. I wouldn't bother wasting my time with this every day if we weren't."

"Good to know you aren't doing it because you owe me."

"You know what I mean, Twix," he growls. 

"No, I don't." You throw your arms up. "I don't know what you mean and I don't know why you never killed me because you had every reason to, and I definitely don't understand you, so I guess we make terrible allies, Ghost."

"What is with you?" He cocks his head to the side, tone mild with curiosity. "So talkative all of the sudden."

"I have no problem talking when the other person isn't blatantly ignoring me."

His brows lift. "Fair enough."

A deep inhale flares your nostrils before you spread your stance. "I'm ready now."

Despite your claim of readiness, he quickly backs you into a defensive position that has you frustrated once again. You don't understand why, but your progress slips. You keep having to adjust your stance and all of your attempts to hit him fail. It's not long before he locks you against a tree with a tattooed forearm against your neck. 

"You aren't focused today," he accuses.

"Damn, you're observant," you breathe out. 

"Jesus fucking Christ. If I wanted to listen to someone mouthing off, I'd get Blue out here." He presses a bit harder and your throat twitches. "I'm not going to threaten you anymore, but clearly, you think straighter when you channel your anger, so whatever you were dreaming about last night— get it out of your head."

He's right. You breathe deep and try sorting through everything in your head, focusing on just the anger, but it's like fishing in murky water. When he releases you, more of the same happens. This time, you end up on your butt. Ghost glares down at you, circling like a vulture.

"You were doing good the past few days. What the hell is this?"

"I told you," you say through your teeth, brushing off the dirt from your jeans. "Letting out my anger means letting everything else in the box out and it is... confusing me. Making my head fuzzy, I guess."

His chest expands with a deep breath and his pointed stare turns meticulous. "Explain this box to me."

You hesitate for a moment. "It's just... where I put away all of the shit that would otherwise make me insane."

"And what is wrong with being a little insane, Twix? This world is insane. Might as well match it."

Your mouth opens, then closes. You struggle for an answer and rub your temples. "I don't know. Being insane means losing myself completely. I mean, I have already changed so much in the past five years. Like I said, I was never meant to be this person."

"What person? A person who survives? A person who does what she has to?"

"A person who hurts others," you grit out. "A person who kills." 

"You've killed people, right?" he roughly asks and you nod. "Then you're a killer. You were always meant to be a killer. End of story." His words strike you, and you begin to shake your head defensively, but he continues before you can muster a reply. "The past five years haven't changed you, they have revealed who you are. Now—" he raises his fists, "—open the stupid box and turn everything you feel into anger. All of it. It is valuable fuel that will continue to keep you alive."

He swings.

A kaleidoscope of long-ignored memories flashes through your brain when he hits your sore stomach. Your family. Your friends. The life stolen from you. 

And then— you recover your footing and slam a boot into his knee. It loosens his stance just enough for you to throw yourself at him, effectively knocking him over. The ground welcomes your bodies again, but this time, you grip his shoulders and wind up on top, practically laying all of your weight on him. A few harsh breaths expel from your nose before you become fully aware of the position, the heat from his chest pressing into your breasts.

Quickly, you splay your hands flat against him and sit up straight, thighs spread over his narrow hips. Ghost could easily flip you over and pin you if he wanted. But instead, he crosses his arms behind his head. 

"Comfortable?" you ask him breathlessly, raising a brow.

"Quite. Though, if this were real, I suggest an elbow to the neck once you've got them down."

"So you admit it, then. I got you down."

"I allowed it."

"Sure." Your teeth snag on your lip and you lightly brush a finger over his masked nose, detecting a tick in the hinge of his jaw. "Then I will 'allow' you to keep this for now, but next time, I might do more than just break it."

His eyes widen imperceptibly before he quickly recovers. "Ah. So you are a person who hurts others, then. Someone was trying to tell me otherwise."

Your lips twitch at the corner on their own accord. "Shut the fuck up."

He simply stares at you for a pregnant pause before clearing his throat. "I did allow it, but that was good. You focused on the anger, didn't you?"

You nod. "Yeah, I did. Is that what you do all the time?" you ask curiously. "Just get angry and kill people?"

"Pretty much."

By the tone of his voice, a deep brass that reverberates through all the places your bodies touch, you are certain he's joking. Realizing that you are still on top of him, you push off his chest and swing a leg over, careful not to knee his face or let him see the deep flush that crawls over every inch of your skin.