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souglias · 24 days

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Remember To Throw Your Expired Milk [GINTOKI]

Just because an era has passed, doesn't mean everything from then is lost.

c/w: self-indulgent, may have some timeline inaccuracies, mentions of the Joui War, mentions of injuries and scars

Gintoki x gn!reader (reader is implied to be smaller than him for a small part)

word count: 4.7k words (I'm sorry guys)

note: This fic serves an outlet for me, so when I mean self-indulgent, I really mean it!! Please let me know if you think I missed any content warnings. Border is a cropped frame from the Gintama The Final movie :)

cross-posted on AO3 (accessible from my profile)!

All likes and reblogs are appreciated!

The morning before you leave for the Joui war is a chilly autumn, with the last leaves barely hanging onto their branches. The four of you were to leave together: You, Gintoki, Takasugi and Katsura.

This particular morning, it is just you and Gintoki in the abandoned house that Takasugi and Katsura also lived in. Both of them have gone out for a bit. You didn’t know for what, but the house feels a little empty without the two.

Gintoki is keenly aware of you standing behind him, your eyes burning holes into his hands that are tightening his headband. He is about to attach his sword but decides to drop his hands to his sides instead, shaking them.

With his back still facing you, he spits, "Go back to Edo tonight. You have no use on the battlefield."

The monotonous banter, usually akin to a relentless fly, stings this time. It takes only a moment for him to realise the possible weight of his words. Tentatively, he looks over his shoulder at you.

Gintoki doesn't know if he is more than a friend to you, but he would carry all your burdens and sorrow if it meant you wouldn’t enter the battlefield with them. If he has to choose his life or yours, he will choose yours. He would do anything if it meant that you would tease him about his natural perm or jab him playfully at his sides again.

So, when he meets your unwavering yet melancholic gaze, he breaks the eye contact that barely lasts. His feet become a little heavier each time he sees you with that face. The more he trudges forward, the more he has to lose.

"I'm not useless. You know I can fight. Didn’t know you had such a shit impression of me."

You can, and you fight well.

“But you don’t need to fight. You should protect your ass when you can and live. You’ve always been a scared kid anyway. Oh, who was the one who used to be intimidated by me?”

You retort back, but there’s no bite in it. “Shut your ass trap. I’m not chickening out now. You sound like the one who’s scared now.”

Gintoki’s heart is trembling. He sees the grim reaper preparing for its shift to make rounds and he does not want to see you among a pile of corpses.

He flicks your forehead, takes your headband anyway and wraps it around your head. You too, carry the same pent-up fury from the Kansei Purge as everyone else. You have your grievances to air in your way too. Hell, if you asked him not to fight, he would have called you an idiot and ignored you.

His arms hover around your head as he ties a knot securely at the back of your head. Your head is almost on his chest, and his mind wanders to how close you are to him.

“It hurts.”

“Ah, sorry.”

His hands move to loosen your headband, but you rest one hand on his forearm to stop him. You stare straight into his chest and your free hand fidgets with the side of your pant leg. Gintoki realises that you are thinking about so much more than the headband.

If he could even be audacious, he thinks he knows what you are thinking of.

He tries to think of something to say. For a split moment, he even considers a hug. Even though it’s not something he has ever been good with. But before he gets to do anything at all, Takasugi creeps up from behind him.

“I can’t believe you guys. Getting all touchy-feely before the fight?”

Gintoki immediately steps back, creating some distance between the two of you. He hurls some insults at Takasugi and the two of them bicker. When Katsura returns, instead of breaking up the fight, he joins in their nonsensical argument that is not even about the two of you anymore.

You take in this scene and etch it in your mind. This is the perfect time to have time halt if it is ever possible.

The four of you set out when it was time. As you attach your sword to your side, Gintoki comes up to you with his faux nonchalance. His eyes wander everywhere for a bit, one of his hands rubs the back of his head and the other seems to be lost on what to do. "You already know this, but do me a favour and buy me some strawberry milk on your next trip to the convenience store again. Keep them in the fridge.”

He pauses as he watches your face shift from confusion to understanding.

“It has to be the Azuri brand one! Don't you dare drink it."

Your hand resting on the handle of your sheathed sword tightens.

“Okay, you better fucking come for it.”

Gintoki catches you with that melancholic smile again. He bumps your arm gently with his fist. Noticing you walk with less of a drag in your feet, he assumes it is good enough.

(You are always so difficult for him.)

Sometime towards the end of the Joui war, when the bodies all start to pile up and the soldiers are all weary, he loses sight of you. His eyes can no longer find the silhouette he has become so familiar with and his ears cannot find the rhythm of your steps that he has memorised by heart. You do not return to base when night falls.

The voices all say you’re dead and gone, but Gintoki tries to protect the flickering flame of hope in his heart as he continues to fight. You promised him a carton- no, cartons of strawberry milk. You are far from stupid to take a promise to the afterlife with you.

But when the Joui war ends, he disappears, just like everyone else. Along with the dying fire in his heart that he wilfully thought he could protect. Hope is a heavy thing to carry after all that has happened.

The Amanto, who had kept you in a dark room for what felt like weeks, releases you into a world you are no longer familiar with. You find out that it’s only been days and that you were originally to be executed the next day.

The sky is cluttered with more spaceships and the sun feels a little more cruel than you knew it to be. You walk with no aim, looking back now and then, thinking that you hear familiar voices. It goes on till the sight of the convenience store you frequented with your friends slowly pulls you back to reality. The weight of your emotions kicks in when you hear the welcome chime of the store. Your wounds start to weep and your muscles burn as you limp towards the refrigerator of cooled drinks.

With a throat full of screams you bite back, you place a few cartons of strawberry milk from the barren refrigerator of the convenience store into your arms. Large ones to keep in the fridge, small ones in the event he wants to bring it out. The counter staff asks you if you are okay while he packs your purchases, but you simply brush him off.

As you drag your unwilling feet into the town that spells a lonely journey into the future, the carton of strawberry milk treads too to its expiration date.

(How naive of you, to think Edo would be the town you could call home with everyone you cared about and the one man you loved.)

You wander within the city after you receive treatment, searching for a sign of anyone you know. Eventually, you traverse out of Edo.

Whenever someone mentions the Four Heavenly Kings, you find your spirit to be lifted, only to be let down without fail. It is a name that strangers use so freely and carelessly. The four you know are now only legends, reduced to mere tales. They are unreachable, even as someone who has grown with them. You start to think maybe they are dead. Maybe you have just been searching for a time that has ceased to exist.

(Besides, you may have escaped death when you were released, but you think a part of you died that day too.)

It’s a long time before you force yourself to get your shit together. When you return to Edo, you see wanted posters of Katsura everywhere, the corners already peeling. One, hangs on by a small strip of tape, at a lamp post outside a humble ramen shop on the outskirts. You get a job at this ramen shop, and you stare at Katsura’s mugshot as you work until the poster gets blown away one day. With your pay, you get by and live in a simple rented apartment nearby.

When you finally bump into Katsura himself, you think you’re seeing the distant light at the end of the winding tunnel. He manages to fill you in on a bit, but takes off soon due to his predicament. The bare, discreet conversation you have with him ends up doing the opposite of what you hoped, whiffing out the little hope you carried instead. Sakamoto is assumed to be in space, which makes you a little relieved knowing he’s living his dream. But, the fact that the whereabouts of Gintoki and Takasugi are still uncertain makes you feel you’re still at square one.

Despite the time that has passed, you still see Gintoki in many things. The Shounen Jump on the shelves. Anyone with their permed hair, even if it’s clearly artificial. And especially those fucking cartons of strawberry milk you keep. They are an anchor to your past and their tarnished, rusted edges dig into your skin. You want to throw them out so bad, but you can never bring yourself to. You stay at square one with these rotting cartons for the passing seasons.

On a chilly winter afternoon with snow that’s taking its time to fall, you find Gintoki when you pass through Kabukicho. Walking past Snack Otose, you catch a glimpse of a head of silver in your peripheral vision.

You don’t recall when this… Yorozuya Gin-Chan came to be above Snack Otose. But you always pass Kabukicho in a hurry. Maybe it has always been there.

An old lady talks to him at his door, blocking him from your view on the ground floor. But you wouldn’t mistake that natural wavy perm of silver, even though all you see are strands peeking out from the sides of the old lady.

When she walks off with a face of frustration, you withdraw into a nearby alley in a flurry. You take in the scene of Gintoki with his exasperated look. He scratches his head a little and sighs, before he goes back inside. You take it as your sign to leave.

(Gintoki sees you. And he isn’t ready to talk to you either. Not with the way your fists clench. He immediately guesses what you’re feeling, if you have not changed immensely into someone different. He shakes away the urge to approach you and convinces himself again that just knowing that you are alive and warm is enough. He is content.)

The snow does not stop even when night falls. When Gintoki returns home, he turns the television on and stretches out with his feet propped up on his work desk. The doorbell rings and he sits up. His heart throbs, in anticipation for a certain someone. He tames it. Expectation is a potential recipe for disappointment.

When he opens the door, he finds you carrying two plastic bags. Your hands are very tightly wrapped around the handles. You refuse to look up at him.

“What? Asshole crawled back up from their grave? Not happy with what you got?”

You enter the house wordlessly and he shuffles out of your path. You drop the bags on the coffee table, causing a loud thud to resound in the room.

“Hey hey, the landlady downstairs is going to complain. She already came up bitching about the rent earlier this afternoon-”

“I owe you something. Did you forget?”

You pull a small carton of strawberry milk out of the bag and set it on the table. It is worn from weather and time. You rip open the top of the carton and the straw gets yanked out of the plastic, soon finding itself in the opening.

Shoving the carton into his chest, you gather the courage to look him in the eye. The carton starts to wrinkle even more from your tightening grip. You hold it tighter, as if it would stop your tears from welling.

He notices the expiry date printed on the carton, which was more than one and a half years ago. His hand wraps around yours and he doesn’t let you slip them out.

“I don’t forget what people owe me that easily. Even if I died, I would demand for the guardians of hell to arrange a delivery to get them from you.”

Your grip loosens a little when you notice the soft, subtle smile on his face. There’s a lump in your throat again and you take a few deep breaths to stop it. The sound of the television fills the silence between the two of you for a bit.

“A little less than a year ago, I crossed paths with Zura. He told me both of you disappeared and didn’t know where you were.”

The next few words almost escape him. It makes you feel small and helpless to say it, even though he was right in front of you. “I thought maybe you died.”

A stray tear streaks down your cheek. He gently pries the milk from your hands and sets it down on the table.

(He thought you died too. Sure, without realising it, he started to carry hope in his heart again. But it felt like the weight of the world sometimes, and he had to carry it by dragging it across the ground. The possibility of you being six feet under rang so loud in his mind.

It only became lighter when he bumped into Katsura for the first time a few days ago. It was when he heard about you from Katsura. Gintoki headed down and watched you work in the ramen shop from the other side of the road. He left without approaching you. He didn’t know what he was going to say to you. Besides, seeing him could reopen old wounds and he didn’t want to do that to you. And just maybe, he was a little bit of a coward when it comes to you.

But he guesses it is all futile. You found him after all.)

With his thumb, he brushes your cheek. You notice scars on his arm that you don’t ever recall him having.

“You worry too much. It takes a lot to kill me.”

“But it hurt, didn’t it?”

It did. Even now, the wounds on his soul throb a little. He thinks he’s underestimated how much he missed you. “They’re just scratches.”

You inch towards him and put your arms around him for a hug. He tenses up at your touch, but he manages to loosen up and pats your back gently until you stop crying.

“Did you cry like that when you found Zura?”

“No.”

A stray smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t waste your tears on Zura.”

“So you’re saying it’s worth it to cry for you?”

Gintoki’s eyes dart off in another direction. “No. Don't cry for me again.”

The way his sentence seemingly hangs thickens the air between the two of you. He scoffs and sits down on the sofa. Refusing to make eye contact with you, he rubs the back of his head and frowns.

He is still the Gintoki you committed to your memory and love. Even as time passes, he still has the same habits. Even though his fashion sense has changed, you still see him adorn the same shades. You can still see the pureness of his soul even with the haze of time. Despite the tears, you find a hearty laugh rising up your throat. So you let it out.

He freezes upon hearing your laugh and realises that he has not heard something so genuine from you for so long, even from before the two of you parted.

As he runs his fingers through his natural perm for the last time and stands up, he suggests, “Let’s go to the supermarket. We should get new cartons.”

You glance at the clock. “Sorry, maybe not today. It takes a while to get to the supermarket and I need to get back to my apartment too. I live on the outskirts.”

“I’ll send you back. I have a scooter now.”

“Wow, I assumed you couldn’t pay rent. Where did you get the money for that? Did you rob a bank? It’s well within the capabilities of the White Yaksha.”

His eyebrow twitches. “Quit yapping and move along. I bargained hard and relentlessly for a lower price.”

As both of you make your way to the scooter, you continue to make more snarky comments about how he got the scooter. When you see the scooter, you decide to make some more comments about the scooter, though you actually think it is a fine thing. He smacks you on the head, eliciting a giggle from you instead of what he thought would be a retort.

“Your home is so damned far away, you know,” Gintoki complains as he turns on the engine.

“You were the one who offered.”

Without much thought, you tease him as you sit behind him, “Then, where should I stay? With you?”

You realise what you’ve asked and you’re about to make a comment to brush it off. But Gintoki plops a helmet on your head before you can do so, and starts the scooter. As he begins to drive off, you place your hands tentatively on his waist. He throws a glance over his shoulder at you. “Hold on tight and don’t let go.”

It doesn’t take long for you to get used to your hand on him and he can feel your tense hands slowly relax. With his eyes on the road in front of him, he’s not 100% sure, but he thinks you’re leaning in a little.

(The scooter doesn’t go as fast as those flashy sports cars the rich use to zoom around town. But you still get to the convenience store a lot quicker than you expected. It’s too fast, you feel like you will never have enough time with him.

Even though he is right in front of you, the lost time makes the vast distance between the two of you so clear. It is one that you cannot cross now with your arms, even if you gathered the courage to wrap them wholly and tightly around him. The thought that he might disappear again will gnaw at you for a while.

That night, he pays for the strawberry milk. The two of you take the last two cartons of the Azuri brand he very much prefers. You take your time to sip on it during the ride, watching his wavy hair let loose in the wind and catch the lights of the slowly dwindling traffic around you.)

Gintoki gives you a face when he looks up from the grocery bag on the coffee table. His eyes fill with incredulity and his lips downturn dramatically. "What is this?"

You put up an air of innocence, teasing in a sing-song voice, "What's what?"

"THIS!"

He pulls out a carton of milk from the grocery bag with two fingers gripping it and waves it around hysterically.

"This is plain milk!"

"You're stating the obvious."

He drops the carton back into the grocery bag and yells out in exasperation, hands grasping at nothing in the air. You stifle a laugh.

"Still gives you the protein that you so absolutely love in your strawberry milk, doesn't it?"

He plops down on the sofa and crosses his arms. Eyebrow twitching, he begins a lecture.

"Listen [name]. Plain milk is not the same as strawberry milk. Strawberry milk is NOT just syrup or sugar getting added into milk."

You nod, pursing your lips so as not to let out a laugh at the bewildering he says and the ones he might say.

His doctor highly recommended that he cut down on sugar. Based on your internet searches, strawberry-flavoured milk has more sugar than plain ones. And because you love your boyfriend so much, you decide to take it into your own hands to buy plain milk which would be much better for his health. Watching him become exasperated over it is just a huge cherry on top.

Sensing that you found his reasoning ridiculous, he whines and throws himself face down onto his sofa. You don’t bother to suppress your laughter when he starts kicking his feet.

Out of nowhere, he jumps off the sofa and slides his wooden sword into his belt. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? You offered to buy it because you planned this, right? Because the doctor said I had to reduce my sugar intake.”

How dare you, his beloved, commit such an act of betrayal to him! He adds a little shout in between his rambling. Then, adds, “Sugar is life, [name]! We have to go buy them now!”

He tugs at your arm and you refuse to budge. Initially, you reason that he can’t leave the house because Yorozuya’s opening hours aren’t over yet. As he tugs harder, you start to mock him for having such a sweet tooth, how he’s weak for being unable to go by without strawberry milk and how ungrateful he is for you. He retorts back saying you shouldn’t have backstabbed your boyfriend like that, and there’s nothing sinful with having a sweet tooth. In the end, he lifts you by your waist with his arm and out of the house into the spring evening. Conscious of the looks of onlookers, you smack him on his back harder and harder till he complains about how it hurts and puts you down.

Gintoki continues to lecture you about the strawberry milk as the two of you walk to the convenience store that opened months ago. In the five-minute walk, you let him go on about the difference and hum now and then as an indication that you are listening. At the same time, you imagine the pink cherry blossom buds overhead. You imagine the falling sakura blooms around him. A mental image of the blossoms in his silver hair surfaces.

When he finishes his sentence, you comment, “I think you could be a strawberry parfait too.”

“Huh?”

It’s now your turn to talk in this walk and Gintoki sees the vision you’re having. He’s about to make a dirty joke, but you jab him at his side before he can say it.

When the two of you enter the store, he runs straight to the refrigerator. You trail behind him, already finding his arms full of large and small Maiji milk cartons although it has only been one minute.

It has become normal for Gintoki to take the Maiji brand carton without a second thought. You can no longer find the Azuri brand milk in Edo anymore, and possibly the whole of Japan. It took him a little getting used to and some whining to you, but he has come to enjoy it.

When you watch him try to arrange and squeeze everything into the basket, you think maybe your plan to help him cut down on sugar has backfired. Mans simply trying to stock up at this point. You end up having to do some convincing in that narrow aisle, with some other shoppers, for this manchild to put a few back.

From the refrigerator to the cashier and back to Yorozuya, Gintoki keeps pouting. You poke his cheek with his free hand, but all you get is a “hmph”. He’s not going to give in so easily! It takes so much more than paying for his sweets and saying he looks like a strawberry parfait!!

You think about offering to pay for his parfait, but you tell yourself not to give in to him. You want him to live a long life and die of old age, not go out way before his time in agony because of sugar.

Gintoki plops down at the corner of the sofa when the two of you return to Yorozuya. He starts reading the latest copy of Shounen Jump with one leg crossed on the sofa, sipping loudly on his milk in an attempt to irritate you. You sit on the other corner with your drink and magazine you bought yourself earlier, and you prop your feet on top of his lap. He smacks your feet once, but he lets you be as he always does. On other days, he enjoys doing it to you too.

Every now and then, you look up to see him engrossed in his manga. Sometimes when you blink, you still see images of the past versions of him with Katsura and Takasugi at his side.

You get up and give him a kiss on the cheek, before heading to the stairs outside. He’s a bit caught off guard, but you leave him to process it.

On the street downstairs, a few kids scramble around, presumably to head home. Your mind wanders to the three boys you grew up with. There are still days you think you wake from your nap in the classroom to the three boys duking it out in the dojo. But when your bleary vision in the morning clears and you notice that the ceiling above is different from the one at Shoka Sonjuku, reality settles. It’s just a ruckus made by some kids outside. You stare at the ceiling, remembering that Takasugi is at large with his new comrades. You remember that Zura now has his own faction, which both you and Gintoki reject his relentless invitations to. You remember that Shoyo-sensei is gone.

You hear the sliding door open behind you and Gintoki leans on the part of the ledge beside you.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

Gintoki notices you running your finger back and forth on the grooved surface of the ledge. He places a kiss on your temple. A little hesitant at first, but he goes for it. He then shifts behind you slightly, resting his hand on top of yours. With his steady frame behind you, you lean back a little on him.

(Gintoki wonders what Shoyo-sensei would think about the two of you. Hopefully, he approves, even though Shoyo had witnessed him disturbing you in class and outside of it. Hell, Shoyo even thought Gintoki was bullying you at one point and Gintoki had gone to lengths to prove otherwise. He would also argue that he was teasing you to get you to break out of your shell. Though in hindsight, maybe he had been a little mean about a few things.)

The wish to return to the bygone days still squeezes your heart with its agony. The days that Shoka Sonjuku was your home. Its invisible hands still try to grasp at the memories that are becoming ever-distant and drifting away in the stream of time. It is always the worst when you find resemblances that you find hard to ignore.

But everyone has found their place in this new era, including you. The night he dropped you off after reuniting, he asked you’ll come to Yorozuya again. You said you’d try, but no promises because it was far. Though, as you watched his receding figure ride back into the brightly lit town you once detested, you knew you would.

You're glad you did. After all, you found a place with Gintoki. A place, in this still unfamiliar city, that you can finally bring yourself to call home again.

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading this self-indulgent, monster of a fic <3

#sakata gintoki x reader #gintoki x reader #sakata gintoki #gintoki imagines #gintama imagines #gintama x reader #gintama #souglia.s #my gintoki lovergirl era really hit this hard #this is my saddest era too esp bc of the songs I've been listening to while writing this #now I have other monsters to face aka my final assignments #still can't believe I spit out 4.7k worth of words for this man #I am very downbad for him #when I have the time watch me yap about the themes and shit and stuff I couldn't include

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cherryluvrx3 · 9 months

Text

Sadists and men are irritating. One who is both is the worst of all.

Okita Sougo x fem afab reader

This is pretty much just a self indulgent stupid fic I thought would be funny. Based of a screenshot from another fic (I’ll put it at the end cuz I don’t wanna spoil the part lol)

Cw. talk about pregnancy, abortion, (not at all seriously though), Okita calls you a slut like twice, some smut at the end and breeding??? Also in general Okita being a piece of shit like usual

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As the Shinsengumi nurse, I was no stranger to the spontaneous idiotic conversations men talk about. After all, my job keeps me surrounded by uncivilized men all the time. At first, the soldiers were a bit wary and even shy to act crude around me, not used to having a woman in the workplace, but after years of working there, the excitement and special treatment had worn off. Now they have no issue talking about any questionable, disgusting, filthy topics.

The other day I heard a debate that spanned about an hour long on ‘What do you think would kill you faster? Uncontrollable vomiting or shitting?’

Seriously the topics these men conjure up can be nothing short of abysmal. Part of me understands that as men who follow such a strict code, uphold the law, put their lives on the line, and are forced to live with other men, they don’t have as much freedom as others or much time to enjoy themselves. And since they’re stuck with each other, all their stupid ass energy is quick to infect and spread and soon enough you got everyone talking about vomit and shit when they should be, I don’t know, doing their jobs?

At the end of the day it’s whatever though.

While they can be moronic and gross, I have to admit that they bring personality and excitement to my job. Since I’m just a lone nurse working in a simple on-grounds clinic, serious injuries go to hospitals while I mainly give them check ups and treat their scrapes and boo-boos. Having to treat a bunch of beat up men is much more entertaining when they pass the time talking passionately about the most dumb or horrid things imaginable. At times like those, I find myself having to rewrap some guy's arm for the third time because I can’t focus from all the gut wrenching laughter and tears in my eyes.

Of course there are times when they try to involve me in the conversations. I usually opt out of all the really nasty sick ones because of personal preference but this was one that wasn’t a disgusting talk really, more like a hypothetical. Specifically about me and my boyfriend, Sougo Okita.

The two of us had met because of our jobs of course and he ended up taking an interest in me because I bit back when he teased me. Initially he just liked messing with me and I hated his guts but after a while we both had grown strangely close and ended up falling into a relationship without either of us actually asking each other out. Too much pride for either of us to spit out our feelings? How embarrassing..

Anyway, the question was asked by Yamazaki, who was accompanied by Saitou. The two of them were getting their bruises, scrapes and cuts treated that they had gained from training together.

“So (Y/n), what would you do if you were pregnant with Captain Okita’s kid?”

“What?” The dead look I shot him quickly told him I was not amused with where the conversation was heading.

“No- I mean-ow! C’mon! Surely it’s crossed your mind?” Yamazaki yelped as I aggressively dabbed an alcohol soaked cotton ball into a bad scrape on his knee.

[Assuming that you two are… active?] Saitou’s notebook read.

I huffed and felt my cheeks get hot before muttering, “We are,” I got up to throw the cotton ball in the trash can, “but! That’s really none of your business.” I said and poked Yamazaki’s shoulder where I knew he had a tender bruise making him yelp again.

“But Okita’s always telling your business!”

“What?” The dead look once again on my face as I waited for them to explain.

[Well sometimes the other men ask him about how things are between you two and he says that..]

Saitou flips the page,

[..You’re really a big cock slut who can’t get enough of him -///-] he used his notebook to cover up his blushing face as if he didn’t already have a mask on and draw a blushing emoticon.

Holy shit.

I mean.. men have always been shameless assholes that often have no problems over sharing the personal details of their girlfriends to other men for the imaginary cool guy points that dudes have but HOLY SHIT!?

I felt all color drain from my face only for it to instantly come back with how hard my blood was pumping from anger and embarrassment.

“Oh my- That’s not true by the way!” I grab Yamazaki by his bruised shoulders and shake him. “If anything, he’s the slut! He’s the one that can’t keep his hands off me!” I yell, shaking Yamazaki even harder while Saitou helplessly watches.

“Whatever!” I drop Yamazaki onto the medical bed where he lays lifelessly. “To answer your question, if I was pregnant with that asshole’s child, it’d be gone as soon as I can schedule the appointment!”

“What?”

I turn to the door to see said asshole boyfriend at the doorway.

Under normal circumstances I’d maybe be happy to see him but instead I huff and roll my eyes. “You heard me, if I had your kid in my stomach I’d get rid of it before that devil spawn could be formed!” I turned around and started gathering what I needed to treat Saitou now.

“Okay wait. What’s even going on?” Okita asked confused on the random topic and why I was even mad at him when he hadn’t done anything yet.

Saitou quickly wrote to give him a swift summary.

“Oh. So you heard about that huh? Or I mean read about that.” Okita chuckled, not at all ashamed that I found out he’d been telling people that I’m practically a horn dog. “What? Are you embarrassed?” He went to wrap his arms around my waist from behind and leaned to talk by my ear, “All I’m doing is telling everyone how much you love me and how insatiable you get for my di-” I elbow him in the gut hard and watch as he doubled over with a groan.

“God you are so irritating!” I yell and walk over to Saitou so I could start treating him but he backs away in fear I’ll do more harm than good.

“Yeah I guess I could see why you wouldn’t want his child,” Yamazaki chuckles, “I’m sure he’d stress you out like crazy- Ow! Ow!” He whimpers as Okita starts rubbing into Yamazaki’s bruises that he somehow was able to find.

“Really? That’s why you wouldn’t have my kid?” He asks while still harassing poor Yamazaki.

“Not just that. There’s no way you’d be a good dad. You’re way too childish and would probably ditch me, making me end up as a single mother because you ‘couldn’t handle the pressure!’” I grumbled while I disinfected some of Saitou’s cuts.

[I have to admit that makes sense. After all you both are still young and a child is a lot of responsibility] Saitou’s notebook read. “Right? You get me.” I patted his back before going to toss the garbage in the bin.

Okita walked up to me and gently cupped my chin, tilting my face to the side. I think that he’s gonna give me a sweet kiss on the cheek to make me feel better, something he does whenever I get too worked up over his bullying.

He leans down slowly and I let him, after all I deserve some sweet loving- nevermind he just stuck his tongue in my ear.

“Sougo! Ew!” I scream as I shove him away and frantically try to clean his spit. He smirked from the satisfaction of irritating me once again but his smug look eventually faded.

I could tell Okita was upset but I wasn’t sure if it was because I said he’d be a bad dad or that I’d accused him of leaving me when times got tough.

“Hmph. Whatever. Not like you'd be a good mother either.” He huffed and left the room before I could argue back.

A few days had passed since then. I thought he was upset but he seemed normal as ever when I had seen him again so I eventually forgot about the whole conversation. I mean, life as the nurse for a bunch of idiots is very demanding y'know. A gal like me has got a lot on her mind at once. Like.. well..uhh…

Today me and Okita were… hanging out…in my apartment…alone..

Ahem…

The bed creaked under the weight and strain that came from Okita’s hips slapping into my own. He’d always been rough so this was nothing new. I was on my back, my legs wrapped around his waist while his face was buried in my neck, leaving rough bite marks, hickeys, and an occasional tender kiss behind. My nails dug into his shoulders as I held on for support, the pain making him groan.

How did things end up like this? I’m not entirely sure. It seems like whenever we have time alone together we just jump at the opportunity to get into each other’s pants. To us it feels like this is the best way to truly let each other know how we feel. The passion, the aggression and the sincerity of our touches convey our emotions better than our words could.

My back arched as his cock plunged itself into me, each thrust somehow feeling deeper than the last. I would be embarrassed by the obscene squelching sounds that came after each eager pump of his hips if I didn’t have Okita struggling to hold back his moans by ear, busying his mouth with licking and sucking on the skin of my neck instead.

Our bodies were coated with a thin layer of sweat as they held onto each other. My hips bucked against his, never having enough of him.

I gripped his soft hair and tugged him away from my neck, his plump lips already slick with spit before I crashed my lips to his. My tongue shooting into his already parted, panting mouth. He let out a throaty groan and his hips stuttered against mine, overwhelmed with all the sensations.

Our tongues slid against each other’s aggressively. Even now we fought, trying to make the other submit. The kiss was sloppy and hot, I couldn’t help but moan at the familiar feeling of him dominating my mouth.

One of his hands slid between us, his thumb rubbing rough circles on my clit to win me over. I gasped and broke from the kiss entirely, legs shuddering as my hips raised to hump against the pressure of his thumb.

“Oh! Sougo I’m gonna-” before I could finish, he pulled out entirely and moved my legs, pushing them against my chest. My legs naturally hung over his shoulders as he once again pushed himself into me, now in a mating press.

The pressure of his weight and the feeling of his cock pushing much deeper into me than before was almost overwhelming. My breath caught in my throat and I couldn’t even moan until he started pounding away.

Once again his hips continued their familiar, desperate pace, chasing after his own high.

He sneered at the dazed look on my face, “You gonna cum? You should see yourself, honestly it’s embarrassing that you could be this slutty. I should take pictures and post them on the Shinsengumi bulletin board so people can see what you’re really like with me.” He chuckled, his voice slurred from pleasure. All I could do was grasp the sheets and whimper as he wrecked me.

I was so close to cumming and I could tell he was too with how his body shook with excitement.

Then, Sougo’s eyes darkened, he leaned down so we were face to face. His eyes entirely focused on me and I couldn’t bring myself to look away. He looked me dead in the eyes before asking, “You ready to be a single mother?”

…What the fuck?

My eyes widened and face contorted into a look of confusion and disgust and that look was all he needed to push over the edge. He slammed into me one last time and let out an airy moan and his hips shook from how hard he just came.

I felt his cum shoot into me in bursts, hot and sticky as it was, I stayed frozen in place. Any semblance of an orgasm was long gone for me, it felt like I’d just been splashed with cold water.

Seriously what the actual fuck?

He lifted his head up with a smug smirk and gave me a sweet kiss on my cheek.

“YOU’RE SO FUCKING IRRITATING!” I kicked him off the bed.

-----------------------

okay so I thought of this after seeing this screenshot

I havent actually read the fic but I was going though old pics on my phone and seen it and since I'm now Okita obsessed I decided to write this lol

#gintama #gintama smut #gintama x reader #okita sougo #okita #sougo #okita sougo x reader #gintama imagines

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kuromitos · 1 year

Note

Kissing headcanons for Gintoki, Kondo and Katsura? Are they good or bad? Who puts too much tongue😂? Thanks!

My First request since opening up again! Let's go!

A Kiss is a Kiss regardless of how you get it [gintama head-cannons]

Gintoki Sakata

First things first, it's going to taste so sweet

Like ridiculously sweet. You ain't kissing a human, you kissing sugar itself.

He doesn't have a lot of past relationships so he's not exactly an experienced kisser.

But he's not bad at it. Just don't expect too much.

Like tongue. I don't think he'll do that.

Probably if it gets hot and heavy. But that's big maybe.

He also not going to initiate a lot of the kisses. That's on you.

He'll be a big tease about it tho

"Huh? You want a kiss from Gin-san? 😏"

"Well~ how bad do you want? You gonna beg?"

Not big on pda so he only initiates them in private.

Overall, he's a good kisser. Just don't tell him. You won't hear the end of it.

Isao Kondo

The flavor of his kisses always going to taste like mint or whatever mouthwash he used that day.

He's the less experienced on this list so he not going to know what to do here. But he's the most eager

Expect a bunch of mistakes on his end. Including tongue. Not on purpose. At first.

He's going to do research for tips but follow them well. Please help me ( ;´･ω･`)

When he get more exposure to kissing...he's still sucks at it.

I feel he'll be a gross kisser. I'm sorry 😞

Kotaro Katsura

Don't ask me why, but I think Katsura's kisses always have an unexpected taste every time. One day, it tastes like chocolate. The next is its blueberries.

I also believe he'll be the best kisser on this list. Mainly due to him having [romantic] relationships in the past

Remember he has a thing for widows. And a window can be pretty young. Just saying (　-∀・)

Anyway, due to experience he know how to give a pretty good kiss. Like he mastered it.

Knows when to use tongue. Has he's hands in a good place. Can read the atmosphere for a romantic effect. 😍 A + man here

Also initiate most of the kisses!!! ( 〃▽〃)

Best Boi.

Thank you for requesting! Hope this is up to your standards and you request again! ( ≧∀≦)ノ

#gintama #sakata gintoki #gintoki sakata #gintama imagines #gintama headcanons #kondo isao #katsura kotarou #gintama x reader #gintoki sakata x reader

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goldenlaquer · 1 year

Note

REQUESTS OPEK??!?!?!;&@, I JUST WOKE UO IM NOT REAUD UM UN UHH UM

may i request Gintoki with a gn reader who just LOVES to spoil him and make him food but at some point just. stops and doesnt say why and while gintoki doesnt want to sound like "hey wheres my food☹️" he is lowkey wondering if they are mad at him and does a bunch of stuff to try make it up to them. rither like cooking himself or spending more time with them yknow?

but in reality its just that money got tight for a bit and they were embarrassed to say they were spending so much on gin lmao

sorry if thats like all over the place! love you lots professor💚

The way you always come as soon as I open requests, It's like you're in my walls 🥺🚓

Sakata Gintoki Headcanons:

Majority of his life, Gintoki been used to going without comforts, some way or the other. Warm clothes. Fresh underwear. Food. Good food, especially. And it ain't been all so bad since he started the Yorozuya. You can always catch a meal from behind Snack Otose's bar before the old lady catches you by the ear and tosses you out like a dirty mongrel. You can always dip your head in the fountain at the local park to gulp down some cold water. You can always get your 14-year old coworker to stand in a corner and beg for some spare change for your strawberry parfait at your favorite cheap family-style joint.

Point is, you put a street urchin anywhere, and he finds a way to survive.

Theoretically.

So what actually does him in is meals, hot meals, three times a day, seven days a week. The dining table these days is actually creaking, heavily set with the weight of those little side dishes. Side dishes. Gintoki now is getting choices with his meals. And after a delicious meal, then comes dessert. Not just any dessert— strawberry parfait. A tall glass dish filled brim with his favorite sweet, pushed under his nose with a sweeter kiss to his temple before you're happily clearing the rest of the dishes to the sink.

Gintoki has gained ten pounds since loving you.

Until he's suddenly back to square one, ten pounds lighter, back to three-way chopstick fights over every rotten grain of rice, back to scavenging in Sadaharu's dog feed bag, back to harassing Otose's rice cooker, back to swishing fountain water through his teeth to line his never-quite-satisfied stomach.

It's not his first rodeo, but this time, hitting the ground is harder than he remembers.

It's not about the food. In the past few days, you haven't even been looking at him in the eyes, while ladling a fourth of the food that you usually serve into his chipped bowl. Have barely peeped a few words, except murmured thank you for the meal's before quietly eating your portion, smaller than everyone else's. You've kissed him less, hugged him less. The Yorozuya doesn't carry your scent anymore, you're hardly there.

You're ignoring him, he's concluded. Gintoki knows, knows he's pissed you off because Sakata Gintoki always pisses everyone off at some point. You're sick of a lazy, no-good guy like him, he knows it. He knows it.

Fuck, he hasn't missed any anniversaries. On your third month together, he pissed your name in the snow in front of the Yorozuya! If that isn't the most ardent declaration of love, he doesn't know what is! On your birthday, he gave you a DIY, a lovely sculpture! And told you to use it when he's gone! And his performance in bed— no, that definitely can't be it. He puts his back into it! His dicking is flawless. S-tier!

Shinpachi suggests gifting you the newest Otsuu-chan CD. An advice expected of a cherry boy, damn him.

Kagura is more helpful— she's seen it all before. Papi always swallowed his pride and kneeled in the dirt and begged.

And so, Gintoki kneels in the dirt and begs.

And he says something not worth repeating. Blah blah blah blah I miss you blah blah blah blah don't leave blah blah blah blah You don't have to do anything blah blah blah blah just stay blah blah blah blah I love you or whatever blah blah blah blah.

And you're wrapping your arms around his prostrated head, maybe in tears, saying something like money was running short, you were out looking for a job that's why you weren't at the Yorozuya more often, and something like you were embarrassed to face him— which is the most ridiculous bullshit he's ever heard because look at him while he's wiping your tears away with a rough hand, you idiot— you're dating the sorriest, the poorest bastard in Edo! Getcher ass home so we can eat dinner.

And dinner that night— even with four pairs of chopsticks and one paw fighting over the last shriveled dog kibble— has never tasted better.

Happily ever afterrrr

#gintama #gintama headcanons #gintama fanfiction #gintama imagines #sakata gintoki #answered ask #im so sorry if this sucks pure ahhhh bc im stretching my sore writing skills after a while

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xunyu-hsv2 · 8 months

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Me and who

#gintama #gintama takasugi #takasugi shinsuke #gintama meme #gintama imagines #lol memes

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nanamatox3 · 6 months

Note

Hello!! Can I ask for headcanons for Gintoki, Hijikata and Okita getting the kabedon treatment by their crush? Bonus points if said crush is short so it looks kind of ridiculous lol. Thank you and good luck with the blog!

Yaaay some Gintama <3 thank you so much! Hope you like Them cutie~

Sakata Gintoki:

The last thing Gin would expect for today was to end up in such an position with you....

As you stare at him intently waiting for an answer to your question

He'll look at you for a sec....blink....and you think you can see him blush???? But he'll turn his head to the side

ofc we'll tease you a bit cause your just so small not his fault you didnt eat your greens

" oi, oi, are you trying to trap me, shortie??" he ask's raising a brow

Hijikata Toshiro:

He was just on his way to Kondo then bam! You pushing him against a wall

Poor hijikata is so going to be so flusterd

"O-o-oi, what are you doing....." (blush blush aaaah so cute)

You stare up at him for a minute

In that time there are going so many questions in his head

"Nothing, what are you doing?" you ask while smiling up hat him, you just love teasing him hes so cute all blushy n shit

And with that you just walk alway leaving tomato red hijikata there

Okita Sugo:

Oh boy....

That fucker will give you an amused, sharp grin

Looking down at you with a look thats a lil too smug

Oh no, you wanted to back out....knowing this was probably an bad idea

You just realized he let you corner him...

RUNNN

"Oh? trying to assert you dominance now are you?" he teases

Before you can react he'll swiftly spin you around, pinning you against the wall

"But remember.... Im the one who always takes the lead."

#gintama imagines #gintama headcanons #sakata gintoki #gintoki sakata imagines #gintama fluff #nana answers #geminigoddesswriting #hijikata toushirou #hijikata imagines #okita sougo #okita sougo imagines #sakata gintoki x you #okita sougo x you #hijikata toshiro x you

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lirirub · 10 months

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Pensando en la forma en que tanto Otose como Jirocho comenzaron a fumar una vez murió Tatsugoro. Sí, pero, pienso, específicamente en la reminiscencia que debió sentir Otose la primera vez que se llevó un cigarrillo a los labios y sintió el sabor de la nicotina. Como Tatsugoro parecía fumar seguido, es probable que sus besos siempre tuvieran ese ligero sabor a tabaco, que Otose tantas veces le diría era horrible, probablemente él prometía que lo dejaría pronto, pero mientras tanto, la huella terrosa de ese sabor característico estaría en cada uno de sus besos.

Entonces, estando de luto, con el corazón arrugado como una bola de papel y las mejillas empapadas encendería su primer cigarro, y al llevárselo a los labios, no puede evitar cerrar los párpados, al sentir una vez más el sabor cálido de Tatsugoro. Y comienza a llorar de nuevo. Porque es como el último remanente que puede sentir de él una y otra vez sin que se lo arrebaten.

#Gintama #Otose #Jirocho #gintama imagines #Tatsugoro

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aiizenn · 10 months

Text

men who constantly send you money so you can get your nails and lashes done. of course it’s for your own benefit, but also for his. it turns him on—they’re perfect for giving head. his cock hardens when he feels your hand around him with beautifully done nails. not too long and not too short, just the perfect size to feel them with your grip. you give his tip kitty licks as your other hand makes its way to his abdomen, feeling his tense muscles.

“that’s it, such good little slut.” dirty praises leaving his lips. “eyes up princess” and you listened. your doe eyes decorated with lashes, every blink made you look more innocent and desperate. “so pretty f’me, on your knees, with my cock in your mouth, yeah” every word making you want more, so you take in his length and start bobbing your head. both hands on each side of his hips, as you deep throat him. his large hands gripping your hair and pulling you in. your throat aching from the roughness, your breath is limited but that doesn’t stop him. “keep lookin’ at me” your eyes flutter as you make contact with him once again. the lashes adorning your eyes that were filled with tears.

he hisses when he feels your nails on his hips; tagged with the gagging sound that echoed the room. his length pulses in your mouth as his climax reaches, small curses fall from his mouth when he pulls you in one last time. there is a loud ‘pop’ sound when he removes himself from you and releases his hot creamy cum on your face. tapping his cock on your lips to open wide and drink every drop. his strong grip picks you from the floor and throws you onto the bed. “you sucked me dry, sweetheart. now it’s my turn.” he growls as he buries his head in your needy cunt. your pretty nails playing with his hair for more, like a good little slut.

༊ * · ˚ shunsui, urahara, renji, gin, toji, nanami, geto, gintoki, hijikata, eren, reiner, kishibe, kakashi, million knives, adrian tepes, uzui

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jayflrt · 5 months

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𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 47. a fire can be put out but missing a bereal is forever

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

#these gintama ass chapter names #enhypen #enhypen smau #heeseung smau #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung #enhypen social media au #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #enhypen drabbles #heeseung drabbles #enhypen reactions #heeseung reactions

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doki-doki-imagines · 2 months

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Could you please write a gintoki x chubby reader where the reader is a seamstress in the neighborhood and gintoki goes to her to mend her clothes 🦉🧡

Gintoki Sakata: -He always visits you because you are cheaper than most seamstresses and you treat him nicely. -His clothes are always shredded to pieces and more often than not you have to buy new fabric because the old one is too damaged. You should make him pay for it, but you do not… -But you don't mind! Mostly because Gintoki is the nicest customer you ever had. -Often Gintoki comes, using a broken handkerchief as an excuse to spend time with you. -He knows nothing about sewing but his red eyes always end up looking at your hands. -Once you start talking about food and the next day he brings you your fave. -You look down, biting your lower lip and Gin starts to worry. Did he understand wrong? He was keeping his attention while you were talking, maybe socials are really deteriorating his memory… -"Thanks Gin, but I'm on a diet." Ah. "For yourself or to make happy someone else?" "The latter." You sigh, still not looking up at him, until you hear him sitting next to you. -"Let's eat. It's been so long since I shared a meal with someone." He says with half a smile, pushing the meal he bought toward your hands. -From then on he always tries to visit you during lunchtime. At times just for a small chit-chat other times to eat together. -Gin knows he never pays for what you do, but he always make sure you know you can always count on him. -Unless you need money. You are on your own then…

#gintama x reader #gintama imagine #gintama imagines #gintama headcanons #gintoki sakata #gintoki x reader #this is a new request but I was really inspired so I did it immediately

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souglias · 2 years

Text

The Weightless Word That Anchors You To His Side [Sougo] [Kamui]

c/w: blood, injury, violence, tons of swearing, slight spoilers for Mitsuba arc

Cross-posted on ao3

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOUGO!! This is my offering to you, mister super sadist. Meanwhile, @goldenlaquer HI uh it's me the anon who asked if I could write the Kamui idea. The Kamui fic is my offering to u, thank u for feeding me so much tasty gintama content. I will not shut up about 'Who Runs The World? Sadists' and 'All The World's A Stage'. I hope this is good enough for u (and if it is can we be friends :"> okay but on a serious note, no pressure!!) Lastly, shoutout to @divinavulpes and @pen-observing for listening to me scream about how much I suffered while writing these and helping me for the Kamui fic <3

Thank u for all the likes and reblogs on my first gintama fic <3

[Sougo]

How fleeting anything beautiful is.

The maple leaves that cling onto their branches as winter starts to exhale its frost into the landscape. They all fall onto the ground at the end of autumn, no matter how much they try. When humans step on them, cracks run across their coloured bodies and are long forgotten.

His sister who was at the peak of health, yet it declined abruptly months after he left for Edo. She’s undergone countless treatments and swallowed thousands of pills. But she still left even before she had a single grey streak in her pale brown hair.

Sougo doesn’t see anything as beautiful anymore. A pair of dirt-tinted glasses he wears to view the world. Everything is shit and ugly, especially you. He makes sure he smears more mud on his dirt-tinted glasses when he looks at you.

You're just supposed to be a housekeeper who happened to take up the job opening at the Shinsengumi for the summer holiday. (Matsudaira finally decided someone needed to clean after a whole army of his men, especially with all the tamakin* lurking around.)

It's all good until Sougo bumps into you with a tray of cold soba. The soba spills all over your apron, bits of the soup staining your shirt.

With a deadpan voice, he comments, “You should keep your eyes on the path in front, mx housekeeper. Now you have to pay for another bowl of soba for me.”

You admit you weren’t paying too much attention to your surroundings and only focusing on cleaning. But the monotone of his voice ticks you off.

Pursing your lips, you attempt to be careful not to let anything too sharp out of your mouth. “I’m so sorry, I was just too focused on trying to make this place clean.”

He doesn’t break eye contact with you for a few seconds and you think he’s already going to send in a request to fire you. Instead, he holds out an open palm. You raise an eyebrow at him and it prompts him to brush his thumb against his fingertips as he mouths “money”. Scoffing under your breath, you shove your hand into your pocket and give him whatever change you have. You don’t check if it’s enough and storm off.

(It wasn't.)

Aside from cleaning, you help some of the men tidy their rooms if they request it. Your job scope does not include any of the men’s rooms because Kondo said that the men should all be responsible for their own spaces. But you don’t mind the extra work since you often finish the required tasks early.

It is all good until Sougo asks you to clean his room with a bunch of insults.

“Are you a pushover? You’re not paid to clean my room but you do it when I ask you anyway?”

You narrow your eyes at him before you turn back to wipe the shelf with a cloth. “I’m trying to be generous to a slob who has a dusty space for a room.”

He clenches his jaw because you’re right with all the layers of dust on the sliding doors and shelves.

“Generosity? Don’t kid with me, I know there won’t be any more of such shit as more time passes. You’ll laze around or leave for home early before you’re dismissed eventually.”

How wrong you prove him to be.

You help him to replace the yellowed and slightly tattered paper over his sliding door. You help Hijikata sweep up the ashes lying around in his room. You stash some different flavoured bread in Yamazaki’s cupboard so he doesn’t have to snack on anpan even on his off days. All with their permission, of course.

When they thank you in their ways, you give Sougo a look that says “how’s that, you sadistic bitch?”

Sougo snickers at you when Hijikata passes you a bowl of ramen with a mountain of mayo as thanks, filled with amusement. You force the whole bowl of ramen down your throat because you’re worried the demon vice-chief of the Shinsengumi was going to punish you for rejecting his gift.

He laughs at your face that’s gradually turning green and pokes at your queasy stomach.

(Not long later, you suppose you get the last laugh. You throw up all over him and you smirk at him while you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, albeit weakly.)

As time passes, the amount of tasks for you reduces and you’re finding it hard not to laze around. Whenever you see Sougo within your view, you wipe over the top of an already clean table a second time. The second time, you do it a little more slowly too.

When you lie in their backyard to admire the azure blue sky, Sougo’s voice bounces around the walls of your mind. Lazing around, are you?

It makes you immediately jump up to find something to do. You spit a 'tch' out of your mouth, frustrated at how you're letting a mere captain influence your actions.

Eventually, you find yourself peeking through the windows of their dojo and watching them train. You pick up a branch and try to imitate whatever you see being taught. Engrossed in your new “skill”, you forget to be on the lookout for the super sadist. The one time you forget to check if you’re within his line of sight, Sougo catches you.

“Slacking off, are you? Or are you practising some ‘special’ sword techniques to swat a fly that intrudes into our compound?”

You drop the branch, fumbling for an excuse.

“I’m already done with my work today. Besides, I could use some self-defence skills with a stick.”

He mocks you, “Please, [name]. What kind of world do you think we live in? Look, your footwork is already all wrong. You can’t just stand with your feet shoulder apart, you need to have your dominant foot forward too.”

The two of you have an impromptu session behind the dojo, him correcting your posture first. You can tell midway he decides to go spartan on you because you think he’s already asked you to swing this stupid branch 50 times. After possibly the 100th time, you start swinging the branch at him.

As he dodges your strikes, he comments, “You’re already as good as me when I was 7.”

“Is that a compliment?”

He just scoffs and tells you to think what you like to think. Right after that, he whacks your side with the wooden sword he pulls from his hip and you tumble to the ground.

(He grins as he watches you clutch your side, face contorted with pain. You swear you will defeat him one day. Perhaps you will since you start showing up to the dojo to train and you’re improving fast.)

Towards the end of summer, you start helping out in the kitchen too. On a particular day, you head out to the market to help the canteen chefs replenish their stocks. Hijikata asks you to help him get a bottle of mayonnaise from the supermarket.

A bunch of ruffians bump into you as you’re carrying bags of food back. You hear the eggs crack in one of the bags that dropped. They stare daggers at you, but you glare back at them. The guy with a red afro, who you suppose is the leader, stomps up to you. His face hovering right in front of yours.

“Hey, apologise.”

“Why? You should apologise.”

He barks out a laugh, “What a feisty kid! You wanna die or something?”

You’re about to open your mouth when a hand grabs the red afro man’s face. Whoever's behind you shoves the man away from you, causing the ruffian to pinch his nose in agony. A monotonous voice replies, “Sorry, this housekeeper is a fucking cockroach, hanging around dirty corners. I don’t think it’s a good idea to put your face so close to them.”

Sougo pulls you backwards, your back colliding with his chest. He raises his unsheathed sword and points the metal tip between the afro man’s eyes. His voice comes out low, a snarl of a vicious dog.

“Leave.”

They turn tail and run. You hop out of his grasp, fanning your burning face.

You mutter thanks as Sougo picks up the bags you’ve dropped. Sougo tilts his body towards you, his free hand cupped around his ear. “What’s that? I couldn’t hear you?”

It’s your turn to scoff and you walk forward without replying to him. On the way back, the back of your hand bumps into his way too many times.

(Sougo doesn’t see non-samurai talk back often. Maybe you’re secretly one.)

With you, Sougo forgets for a while he’s not allowed to see anything as beautiful. That’s his fatal mistake.

He only remembers he shouldn't when he sees your body leaning limply on the wall behind you, head hanging forward. It only slaps him in the face when he sees streaks of red all over your body as if the perpetrator took your body for a canvas and your blood for paint. A sickening halo of crimson starts to pool on the ground beneath you. He notices you holding a metal rod with a splotch of blood on its edge.

Sougo hears swords being unsheathed behind him. He immediately identifies them as remnants of a malicious yakuza that the Shinsengumi attempted to wipe out months ago. They start making threats that Sougo knows are empty. He makes easy work of them, unaware of the beast that his enemies see in his eyes. As he cuts them down, he notices that one of the opponents already has a bleeding wound on his head.

An amused laugh spills out of his lips.

The moment the last opponent falls to their knees, he rushes to your side. Your pulse is weak and your breathing is shallow. His breathing starts becoming erratic. He pulls out his phone. It's out of battery.

He peels off his jacket and drapes it around you. Following that, he lifts you up his back. He ignores the cuts and gashes that cry out with agony when he stands up. He piggy-backs you out of the abandoned warehouse and towards the nearest hospital.

Fuck this shit, he should have made sure his metaphorical shit-filled glasses rested securely on the bridge of his nose. Hell, he should have gotten goggles instead.

Anything mesmerising isn’t for him to keep.

His white shirt feels paper-thin today. He feels the fabric with your blood plaster onto his back.

He curses under his breath, “For fucks sake, [name]. You’re supposed to be a cockroach. If a meteorite didn’t wipe you out, this wouldn’t kill you.”

Sougo thinks he heard a weak hum in your chest.

“Stay with me, idiot. This is an order from the Captain of the 1st Division of the Shinsengumi.”

(You’re not even one of his men.)

Even with your face right beside his ear, he strains to hear your inhales and exhales. It’s hard to hear with his feet that drag themselves across the concrete.

“Is it that hard for you to stay? Did you have a death wish you told no one about?”

Unconsciously, he grits his teeth. Why did his phone have to run out of battery right at this crucial time? He should have charged it this morning. It’s your fault. It’s always because you charge it for him but you weren’t there to charge it this morning.

He feels like he’s clutching his sister’s hand beside her death bed again.

“Stay.”

It comes out like a whimper of an abandoned puppy. He hates how pathetic he sounds, but it doesn’t matter anymore. There’s no one left to listen to him. You’re slowly moving further from his grasp.

“I will.”

Your words almost get carried away by the wind. There’s a sudden push in the muscles of his legs and every part of him goes into overdrive.

He makes it to the hospital in time. You almost don’t make it, but you make it. By your bedside, his hands wish to hold yours. But there’s no urgency, no desperation for him to clutch onto your hand like he’s trying to keep your life in his grasp.

After that, he makes sure he puts on a pair of dirt-smeared glasses.

(Sometimes, when he’s feeling less of a coward, he’ll look at you through the gaps between the smears. Sometimes, he’ll remember you’re a cockroach and that you’ll show up yourself on the surface of his glasses.)

[Kamui]

Ever since you were kids, you have done everything for Kamui. Silently. So when he asked you to join the Harusame with him, you followed him without asking for anything in return.

There were many instances where you regretted joining the Harusame. But you’re thankful that you’re no longer looking out for Kamui alone. Housen mentored Kamui and you’re glad there’s someone much stronger than you he could approach. While you belong to the Yato clan too, you think (and deep down you know) that you’re no longer able to keep up with his strength. You stop sparring with him because a part of you screams that he’s going to toss you out of his squad for potentially losing to him. Due to there being other matters concerning Kamui that you have to attend to, you’re grateful that Abuto is there to clean up Kamui’s mess when you can’t.

You’re aware he has no interest in romance and he’s unlikely to ever look at you the same way you look at him. (And you look at him silently for it.) Even so, you think you can stay with him forever, status quo. It’s not as if you could find guys elsewhere because once you’re in the Harusame, there’s no way out. You can’t imagine being with all the other cluck-faced amantos in the Harusame either.

But it gives you some solace that he cares about you in some way. In the middle of wolfing down his meals, he’d stop abruptly and ask you if you’d like a bit of something he thought tasted good. He’d pull a piece of lint that’s clinging onto your hair. He even once brought back a squashed piece of manju (a poor bystander that suffered collateral damage from one of his fights) when you stayed behind to watch the ship during his visit to Yoshiwara.

He gave you the umbrella you use in fights now. He also gave you your first-ever umbrella.

You still keep it because he gave it to you. You still keep it because it was his first umbrella too. Now, it stands in the corner of your room, beside the much larger one you use now.

“Hey, why are you walking in the rain on your own?”

You sniffle, watching the vermillion-haired boy’s reflection from the puddles beneath you.

“I don’t have one. My parents left me and I have to keep my money for food.”

“Where did your parents go?”

You don’t answer him and you pick up your pace discreetly. He keeps up and continues to pester you, even making an off-handed comment on how rude you were to ignore him.

You keep your eyes fixed on the ground, unsure what the fuck is this kid’s problem. The adults barely even bat an eyelash at you when you needed them and this kid just tries to barge in to find out more about you.

Suddenly, the rain stops. No wait, it didn’t. You still see ripples on the puddles ahead of you and the sound of droplets hitting the ground. You look up to see Kamui stand close next to you, tilting the umbrella to favour your side.

“You can have mine then. But in return, you have to be my friend. Makes up for not answering my questions too.”

When you reach your door, he shoves the umbrella handle into your hand and sprints off into the downpour.

A few days later, he comes back to your place with a slight cough. He comes back again the next day. And the next…

The problem you have is that no one seems to be able to reign in his lust for battle. He doesn’t care for you enough to do that. He probably cares the same way a group member would care about another useful group member in the project.

(He still asks you why you keep that worn umbrella, especially when you’re no longer using it. You don’t tell him it’s the only gift from him that came from him when strength was not all that was in his head. It’s a gift from the Kamui who had space for both you and his ambitions in his heart.)

Abuto says that you’re their best bet in persuading him to learn how to pull the brakes, but you haven’t so far. It makes you want to launch yourself into space and run away from this godforsaken crime syndicate. When he returns to you with blood-soaked sleeves, you don’t know how much longer the dam of your tears will hold. You pray with your entire being, to whoever’s still listening to you, that they're all blood shed by the enemy before he undresses for you to treat him. You pray in silence.

Of course, some of it is blood shed by the enemy. But the bloom of red on one side of his shoulder is a gunshot with a bullet you have to pull out before it closes at godspeed. A crimson river flows down his forearm and you have to stitch his skin up.

Even after umpteen times, you still feel the heat in your cheeks when you examine his toned and refined body. But the cuts and splatters of dirty blood make your worry curl its witch-like fingers around your windpipe, making you forget about how he's shirtless.

Kamui says there’s no real need to patch him up. But even if he’s not hurting, you are. The Yato are meant to fight, but you wish for once, he’d stop throwing himself into battles as if nobody values his life.

You lock up all your lamenting and tuck it in the deepest corner of your mind. It’s not like he’ll value what you say to him. You continue to stick by his side as if there’s super glue between you two.

But even with time, super glue can be worn down. You feel something in your heart snap when he walks into your room with the head of a spear lodged in his back that he couldn’t pull out. That dumb smile still on his face. What the hell are his subordinates doing letting him walk around without removing it?

Ever since you were kids, you did everything for Kamui silently. You give him the last piece of manju you wanted for yourself without protest. You bandage up his cut-littered arms, holding back your tears when you think about the bullies so he wouldn’t hear your sobs. You spar with him after a long day, biting back whimpers when his wooden rod grazes against your skin.

But this time you tell him to fuck off. The smile on his face falls a little. In Kamui’s mind, you never swear. You make it a rule not to look at him until you’re out of his sight.

“You having a bad day?”

You ignore him, grabbing your shawl and draping it over your shoulders. He’s standing in the middle of the door, blocking your way. You shove him off with your shoulder and see him flinch at the corner of your eye. You dig your nails into your palm.

Kamui grabs your wrist with an iron grip.

“Where are you going?”

You try to pry your wrist out, but his grip tightens.

“I’m leaving the Harusame.”

There’s no delay in his question. “Why?”

“I’m done with you.”

Kamui clenches his jaw, trying to keep that grin plastered on his face. He tastes metal on his tongue. Your fingers find their way to your shirt and you crumple a portion in your fists. He chuckles with his mouth closed, the forced laugh thrumming about haphazardly in his chest. Instead of relieving the tension, he feels the echoes of his laugh suffocate him.

“Fight me. If you win, I’ll let you go.”

As you try to take a step forward, he jokes with a feigned spring in his voice, “It’s an order by the way. Can you believe I’m using my authority right now?”

You bite your lip to push down the lump in your throat, but the tears come flowing out anyway. He’s always talking about how your potential is wasted. You’re leaving and this is probably all he’s thinking about. Make full use of [name] before they go.

“Go ahead and kill me then. I’m done. I’m fucking done watching you waste yourself away on the battlefield. I’m done feeling like I’m the one who got stabbed when it’s you.”

You start to choke on your words and sob. In between sobs, you scream, “I’m sick of wondering when you’ll stop showing up to get yourself patched up.”

You heave and exhale, the frustration rendering you unable to form words for a while.

“I joined you because you asked, but you don’t even care about me because you can’t do the basic thing of taking care of yourself.”

(Oh, how he means the world to you, too. But you’re probably just a pawn in his whole scheme of getting strong. Silence still follows you here because you zip your mouth when the thought pops in your mind. Maybe silence is a curse because you wish you dared to say that.)

When you regain your composure, you say, “I’ll get executed by the Harusame for leaving anyway, so you can have the honour of killing me in a spar before they do.”

You think your bones are on the verge of cracking like your heart.

“You’re being fucking unfair, Kamui. Let go. I’ll fight you, that’s what you want, right?”

It’s one of the rare times Kamui stays silent. Should you be grateful you’ve witnessed him shut his mouth before your death or should you desire him to answer you? You throw your fist towards his face. He stops it with his palm, a loud boom reverberating.

“Stay.”

The word drops out of his mouth like a pin falling off a table. You almost miss it with the noise and the whirring of the engine that kept you up for many nights when you first joined. You almost miss it with how raspy his voice is. The word clinks against the ground and its echoes roar over the machinery in your ears. It holds your feet down like a boulder that you can’t kick off or lift. Unconsciously, his grip on your wrist loosens.

The other hand that blocked your fist holds onto your shoulder. His touch is still rough as if it only knows how to make someone keel over, but you can feel him hold his strength back.

You mutter, “How do you expect me to stay in this shithole when you don’t make it any better?”

You hear Kamui inhale as if he’s about to say something, but stops as he chokes on his words. He falls to the ground on his knees. You crouch down to his level and look him in the eye.

Whatever light that was left in his eyes is snuffed out. He’s dropped the pretentious smile he always wears and in its place, a bittersweet curl of his lips.

“You’re the only one left to protect.”

You don’t move for a moment, your mouth slightly parted.

The man in front of you is no longer the bloodthirsty captain of the 7th division. He’s the boy who sat by your side after yet another heavy downpour. The same boy staring into the distance (not even the horizon but instead into another rundown building) with dejected eyes, telling you he wishes he could have protected his sister from the bullies.

You slide your wrist out of his grip and he abruptly looks up, expecting you to walk away from him. Instead, you embrace him in a hug.

You whisper, “Will everything end when you reach the top of the world?”

Kamui’s arms circle your body tentatively. After much hesitation, his palm rests on your back while his arms go lax. He only nods, but it’s timid. You hover your fingers over his wounds on the back, over the wound with the spear.

“And when will that be?”

He doesn’t have an answer for you. He thinks of a couple of answers. When you guys rise to the top of the Harusame? When he defeats that silver-haired samurai down on Earth?

He doesn’t answer you.

Maybe you’re asking too much from him all at once. After all, you’ve never asked anything much from him before.

“Pick your fights, will you? The ones that are just slightly more challenging. This is the last time I’m pulling a spear out of your body.”

#okita sougo x reader #okita sougo imagines #kamui x reader #kamui imagines #okita sougo #kamui #gintama kamui #gintama x reader #gintama imagines #gintama writing #gintama #souglia.s #I cannot believe I wrote 2k for each of them #the word count was so unplanned #going to pass out for 12 hours now #and then try to do a single person party for sougo when I wake up

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strawberrytoki · 11 months

Text

kiss it better

sakata gintoki x nurse!reader

a/n: this is my first fic ever! I hope you enjoy :)

word count: 1,141

c/w: none! just toothrotting fluff and kissing.

It was yet another excruciatingly hot day in the land of Edo, and Gintoki was not exactly having the time of his life. He lay on the couch, fully sprawled out and lazily fanned himself with that week's JUMP manga. He let out another guttural groan and threw a shoe at shinpachi, hitting him in the head.

'' Oi, be of use and go find us something to cool ourselves with."

Poor Shinpachi rubbed his head, scowling at him. "Broke as you are, you're the one with the funds here you know?"

Having given up on the possibility of negotiation, gintoki picked himself up and made his way to the door.

"Where are you headed?" kagura questioned.

"I'm getting us some ice lollies, it's all we can afford anyway."

And so, gintoki headed out on the street, dragging his feet in a lazy demeanor and looking for the ice lollipop vendor. After eventually finding him, he bought a few, popped one in his mouth and started making his way back home.

Something brought his journey back to a halt though, or rather, someone.

There you were, moving boxes in to the house across the street, with some help from the moving truck drivers. You were clad in your scrubs, indicating that you were either heading to, or coming from work. The beads of sweat on your forehead and slightly disheveled hair suggested the latter though.

You and the workers were wrapping things up as gintoki got closer to passing your residence. He noticed that you rushed into your house and came back out with a plate of what seemed to be....homemade strawberry shortcake.

You offered some to the workers and flashed them a bright smile. They eagerly accepted, got in their truck, and rode away.

You noticed a curious pair of eyes set on you, and turned to acknowledge them.

"Hey there, you live around here?" you asked, greeting him with a wave.

"Huh? oh yeah yeah, right around the block actually, I run the odd jobs place." He said, staring into the sky and scratching his head, trying to feign nonchalance.

"I've heard quite a few things about you guys." you announced

"Our reputation precedes us, that could be either a good or bad thing." Gintoki pondered.

"Good things." you continued, almost as if you could read his mind.

"Ha, I see, though I find that hard to believe..." His mind drifted to his less-than efficient partners and their lackluster resumé. "So you're a nurse, right?"

"What gave that away?" You joked "but yes, I am one, now if you excuse me, I have to get myself out of these scrubs. It was nice meeting you...?"

"Gintoki. Sakata Gintoki."

"Pleasure, I'm (name)"

Days passed by since gintoki's encounter with the new captivating neighbor. He often found himself thinking about you and the delicious treats you'd bake from time to time, they were so aromatic, he could smell them when he stepped outside. He also found himself thinking about the warm smile you'd flash people and wondered what it would feel like to be a cause for one.

Gintoki then thought of what he felt was the most brilliant idea he's had in a while. "KAGURA." he shouted.

"What?" Kagura entered the room with sleepy eyes.

"I need you to injure me."

"Is that because you want the nice lady down the block to treat you? She's way out of your league and wouldn't settle for you, you also carry with you the stench of poverty whereve-"

"Can you do it or no? Goddamn it." His patience was clearly running out.

"Fine..." Kagura then knocked gintoki out clean, with a quick hit to his left ankle. Even though he was in tooth-gritting pain, he was still a man on a mission, so he made his way out the house and towards the direction of your house.

"ARGHHHHH" He winced, holding his head up in pain and limping.

you were taking your bag out of your car, preparing to head inside when you heard someone shout in what seemed to be agonizing pain. It was your neighbor Gintoki, limping around with a swollen, almost futile ankle.

"Oh my god, Gintoki are you alright?" You hurried to him, holding him by his side and heading towards your house.

"Yeah it's no biggie, just a minor injury." He answered. You helped him into your house and slowly helped him descend into the couch.

"How'd this happen?" You questioned him with concern all over your face. "Just some rascal with his motorcycle." He made up a lie on the spot. "Hmm, that's odd...there are no skid marks on the ankle."

"Yeah...I guess it was a new motorcycle..." He looked around, trying to sell his lie.

You went to work straight away, helping treat and wrap up his ankle.

Afterwards, you served him a slice of pie you had made the night before, which he enthusiastically annihilated.

"Don't do anything to strain your ankle, and you should be fine soon!" You smiled at him, glad that he was now okay.

"Yes ma'am. Thanks again for the pie, do I owe you anything?" Not that he had any business asking, as he didn't have shit to his name.

"Nope! service on the house! take care now." You sent him off, not thinking much of what just happened.

Meanwhile, Gintoki marched home, feeling triumphant over this little encounter. He already had a few ideas of what was to come next.

Over the next few weeks, he'd fake several minor injuries just so he could see you, and get a little treat out of it. At first, you were unsuspecting of him, thinking he just had a streak of bad luck, but eventually started catching on to his tactics.

One day, he stumbled in your house holding his head and groaning.

"I have the meanest concussion right now..."

"Sit on the couch, I'll treat you in a minute."

Having figured out his cunning scheme, you were planning on confronting him, but not in a direct way. You took a cold compress and started making your way towards him.

"You know...for someone with a concussion, you seem to have found your way to the couch quite easily." You inched closer, still holding the compress to his head.

"Uh..uh yeah I suppose it's a mild one." he started to look around, avoiding eye contact.

You slowly put the compress down, still looking him dead in the eye and inching closer yet again. You then pressed a firm kiss to his head, right where you were holding the compress, and watched him turn into a blushing mess.

"This should help make you feel better for now, and the next time you wanna visit, know you don't have to be 'injured' "

Gintoki just sat there, for about five minutes. Dumbfounded, and not knowing how to respond.

#sakata gintoki #gintoki x reader #gintama #gintama oneshot #gintoki sakata #gintoki oneshot #gintama fluff #gintoki fluff #anime x reader #anime fanfic #gintama x reader #sakata gintoki x reader #Gintoki x y/n #gintama imagine

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