alienatedhooman

[alienatedhooman]

Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx

x : DISTANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?

warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.

a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt

Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.  

What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc. 

“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.

“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.” 

The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”

“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”

The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.

Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.

Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?

Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.

Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.  

Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you. 

When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.

“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.

“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Nearing six in the evening.”

“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”

Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”

He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. 

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you. 

“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion. 

“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them. 

“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”

“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.

“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”

“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I find it funny.” 

He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”

“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”

“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.

You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.

If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”

“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now. 

He pouts. “When will you be home?”

“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”

“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”

“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”

With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much. 

Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”

“Do you need me to accompany you there?” 

“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”

“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”

Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”

“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure. 

“Love you,” you murmur when parting. 

The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun. 

“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”

“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.  

He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away. 

Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him. 

“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.

“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.

Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum. 

You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.

During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.

You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.

So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?

“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.

“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.

“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.

Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.

The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.

“How did you discover this place?” You ask.

“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.

Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”

“I take it you like it here then?”

“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.

Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks. 

“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.

You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”

“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”

“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips. 

“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”

“Are you trying to butter me up?”

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”

“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”

You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”

Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response. 

“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”

You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office. 

Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step. 

It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.

Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.  

“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.

“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.

“Long day?”

“Draining too,” he murmurs. 

“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building. 

The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.” 

“Did you do anything today to earn it?”

“I need to earn my kisses now?”

“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives? 

You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-

“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.

Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.

You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”

How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy. 

Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.” 

“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs. 

Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.

Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning. 

You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity. 

There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you. 

“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out. 

“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress. 

It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give. 

You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first. 

But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.

“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze. 

You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.

“Dunno. Just double checking.”

“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?

“Yeah.”

“Fine, amazing, just dandy.” 

You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.

Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food. 

Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?

Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.

He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day. 

“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”

He shushes you.

“What-”

“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved. 

When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day. 

So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.

“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.

You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.

“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles. 

It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end. 

“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted. 

“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek. 

Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.” 

The dark-haired stiffens. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you cough.

“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”

“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”  

“Which was?” 

“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”

“Why would I ever want that?”

“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”

“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.” 

You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”

Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye. 

“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you. 

When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.

It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night. 

Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.

“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.

You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.

“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.

As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little. 

“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”

He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”

You nod, “I will.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.” 

“Sorry for putting you through all that.”

“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.” 

“I love you, Wriothesley.” 

He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”

A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again. 

*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol

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[alienatedhooman]

▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• secret door- arctic monkeys

rin is your person.

he always has been.

the one who waits for you after class, standing by the door with his hands tucked into his pockets like he’s not been lingering for you the whole time. the one who knows exactly how you like your coffee. the one who remembers the stories you told him years ago, little things you’d long since forgotten until he brings them up like they’re important.

because to rin, they are.

and it’s moments like those that make you wonder.

wonder if the way his eyes soften when he looks at you means something. if the warmth in his voice when he murmurs, “you’re okay,” after a long day is more than just friendly concern. if the way his fingers linger at your wrist—gentle, grounding—is his way of saying, i’m here. i’ve always been here.

it’s enough to keep you hopeful. enough to make your heart flutter when you imagine what it might be like if you just told him.

but rin is your friend first. and you’re scared of what happens if that changes.

so you stay quiet.

and then she shows up.

it’s innocent at first—he mentions her name in passing, some girl in his class who’s “pretty cool.” you brush it off because, well, you’re you, and he’s rin. surely, you don’t have anything to worry about.

but then she’s there again. and again. and again.

and soon enough, he’s talking about her the way you once thought he might talk about you.

it’s not long before they’re together.

you smile when he tells you. you smile because what else can you do? you smile because rin is your friend, and friends are happy for each other. you smile because if you don’t, you might just break down right then and there.

he smiles back, like he’s found something good—something solid and real. you feel your chest tighten.

and god, it hurts.

because rin used to look at you like that. like you were his world. like you were enough.

and maybe you were. once.

but that was before he convinced himself you didn’t feel the same. before he moved on. before you let him slip through your fingers, all because you were too scared to reach out.

and now you’re stuck—stuck watching him love someone else while your heart still clings to him. still hopes for something that isn’t yours to hope for anymore.

so you learn to smile when he brings her up. you learn to push your feelings down until they feel distant, dull. you teach yourself to stop imagining what could’ve been because it doesn’t matter now.

he’s happy. that should be enough.

it has to be.

[alienatedhooman]

thank youu! for responding to my comment so quickly I was just thinking like a sort of childhood friends but the reader becomes a famous actress and sae still a footballer something cute like fluff and maybe a bit of smut but honestly whatever you prefer cause I really love your work and would like to see more of sae but it’s no rush whenever you have the time and thank youu again!!

Ughhh I had so much fun writing this request! I almost never write Sae, so something’s might be out of character, but I hope that you’re happy with what I wrote!

just a flicker - s. itoshi

cw: childhood best friends! actor!reader! language, angst, fluff, possibly ooc, some brief making out at the end

wc: 1.8k

Growing up was never easy on anyone. Growing up alongside Sae Itoshi brought even more complications. He was never quite as creative as you. Not as academic. Never as polite or gentle. If you didn’t know him, Sae was harsh. Not intentionally rude, just blunt. It was difficult to get used to if you weren’t already close to him. It was just as much a curse as it was a blessing that you knew him.

When you were little, Sae was one of your only friends. You got along well with his little brother, and he got along well with your big sister. You lived nearby. You went to the same school. Sometimes your sister would have a soccer game before his or on a field nearby. It was almost guaranteed for you to get close to him. You both had finally found someone who was equally as passionate at such a young age. He knew that he wanted to play soccer. You knew that you wanted to act. And you were both exceptionally talented already. You were both considered prodigies by all of Japan. Prodigies tended to be best friends, right?

Best friends tend to be our first heartbreak, though.

When you were both thirteen, Sae broke the news to you that he was going to Spain. You were still processing it as you sat in the back seat of his parents’ car, driving to the airport with him and the rest of his family. You didn’t talk to him at all on the way there. When you got to the airport and dropped him off at security, you told him bye and he reassured you that he’d still text. Then that was it. You watched him go through the line, and he disappeared the moment he passed through.

You didn’t speak to him for four more years.

Despite both of your promises, the years ended up going by without so much as a single word from the other. You cut ties with Rin around the same time. Now, at eighteen years old, you were world famous. You had already starred in several productions and received even more role offers. You were finally where you had always wanted to be, and there was still something missing.

Finally, the dreaded day came where you had to go fly out to Madrid for onsite filming for your new rom-com movie. The entire plane ride over, you couldn’t stop thinking about Sae. Would you run into him? Madrid was a big city, sure, but you were supposed to be there the week of one of his biggest matches of the season. Surely you’d at least see a fan or two.

Apparently you had forgotten who the love interest in your movie was supposed to be. A professional soccer player. You’d be at the goddamn stadium.

The film crew had set up just down the road from the stadium. You were standing there on a break, trying not to die in the heat, talking to one of the crew members. That was when you saw him across the street leaving the stadium. He had his practice bag slung over his shoulder. Of course, with your horrible luck, he noticed you, too. And he just stared at you, unblinking.

“Hey, Mina…? I’m gonna head to my trailer really quick. I forgot a couple of my script pages, I think,” you told the girl you were talking to, never breaking eye contact with Sae. You took a few slow steps back, and then sprinted. When you looked over your shoulder back at the stadium, his bag was abandoned on the ground and he was no where in sight. You glanced back a couple of minutes later to see him running after you through the crowd of actors and crew members.

What the hell was his problem? Why was he following you like a crazy person? Thank god your trailer was nearby, because you knew you wouldn’t ever be able to outrun him. You reached the door just before he caught up to you, slamming it shut, locking it, and throwing yourself in front of it. God, you were out of breath. He was gone, though. You were safe.

The you heard the banging. “Open the door, Y/N.” His voice was relatively calm, but clearly frustrated in his own emotionally constipated way.

“No!” You yelled back at him. Your back was still pressed against the metal door.

“Why?” He scoffed, stopping his knocking.

“Because!”

“You’re the one who stopped texting me, you can’t be mad.”

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t want to see you!”

You could almost sense him freezing on the other side of the door. “Did you just start hating me the moment I was gone?”

You froze, too. “What? No, that’s not… that’s not what I meant, okay?”

“So you’re running from your own guilt?”

That comment made you nearly stop breathing. Somehow, after four years, Sae Itoshi of all people could read you. The only person who was worse with emotions was his brother. How could he pinpoint how you felt?

So you opened the door. And you talked to him. And you got out years of pent up frustration, and confusion, and guilt. You were the one who had abandoned him, after all. You decided that it wasn’t worth it to text him when you knew that he’d be in a completely different country from you forever. Why be friends with someone you could never see? Especially when you were thirteen and just starting to realize that you were in love with him?

You started talking to him again. He texted you every morning and every night and called you once a week. It was structured, and exact, and way too Sae Itoshi. Then eventually he was flying you out to Spain for weeks at a time when you didn’t have filming. After a couple of months, you two were going on dates without ever asking each other out. Then you were going to his soccer games and he was at your movie premiers. Then you were hugging and holding hands without putting a label on your relationship. And suddenly the entire world started to think you were dating Sae Itoshi.

You were starting to think so, too.

Right when you were about to give up again and leave him to figure his own shit out, you caught it. You were just sitting in the box at one of his matches — debating what you would say to him after the game — when he scored. It happened so fast that you could barely process what he did afterward, but you could just barely catch his hand wrapping around a chain he was wearing. You had bought him that.

You could still picture the exact moment you had given him that necklace, actually. It was just a stupid silver chain with a soccer ball pendant you had found when you were hanging out with him one day. You were twelve. Back then, any mention of soccer made you think of Sae, so you thought it would have been a cute gift. His birthday was coming up anyways.

When you handed it to him, all he said was, “You’re weird.” And he shoved it into his pocket.

You never expected him to still have it, though.

The night after the match, you had planned to stay at his place pretty late having a movie night. It was your idea. He went along with it because he didn’t care enough to argue with you. So, you met him outside of the locker room like usual. You had gotten special permission to be in the back area of the stadium by then.

He gave you a small nod of acknowledgment as he left the locker room. You two walked silently beside each other as you left the stadium; you didn’t dare to open your mouth until you reached his car.

“So,” you began the moment the doors had closed and he started the engine. You weren’t entirely sure where you were going with it. “That was a nice goal.”

“Thanks.”

“Cool that you guys won.”

“Yeah.”

And then it was silent again. It was always silent when you were with Sae.

“Were you… wearing a necklace during the game?” you promoted, trying to be subtle enough to not sound crazy.

“I always do,” he shrugged, his eyes completely focused on the road.

You nodded. “Where did you get it?”

He raised a brow in confusion. “You gave it to me.”

“Oh.”

Then you both went quiet again.

After just a few minutes, you had both settled next to each other on the couch in Sae’s living room. The only movie request he had made was one of your most popular ones. In that moment, you doubted you could stand to see your own face in some shitty romance.

It took forty minutes for Sae to look over at you. “Your face is all scrunched up.”

You blinked, meeting his eyes. “Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t realize it,” you shrugged, feigning indifference as you turned your attention back to the TV screen.

“You’re so clueless,” he scoffed, clearly still staring at you.

You huffed. “Okay, rude.”

“You’re seriously clueless.”

“Stop repeating yourself, idiot,” you threw a piece of popcorn at his face, trying not to grin as it got stuck in his hair.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re an actor. Shouldn’t you be able to pick up on cues without me having to directly tell you something?”

“What do you not want to tell me?”

“I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve and you’ve been too stupid to figure it out the entire time.”

Oh.

You froze completely, not even daring to glance at him. You wanted to run and hide, to bury yourself under forty pillows, to burrow away like an ostrich. That wasn’t what you were expecting. That wasn’t what you wanted. Was it?

No. It absolutely was.

In the blur of you nodding your head, telling him that you’ve felt the same way the entire time, and whatever he had said in response, he had paused the movie and pressed his lips to yours. You had expected Sae to be more rough, maybe a bit ruthless like how he played on the field. Maybe even apathetic like how he presented himself to everyone. But he wasn’t. He was eager. He was hungry.

He placed a hand on the small of your back, gently pulling you closer. His other hand slid from your cheek to the back of your head, deepening the kiss more than you were prepared for. When you recovered from your shock, you moved your hands into his hair. Even with the intensity, he still kept the pace slow. He was still careful. For the first time in four years, he was finally somewhere to could consider home.

@graciescott27

[alienatedhooman]

ֶָ֢⊹𐙚 𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳: 𝘚𝘢𝘦 𝘐𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘚𝘢𝘦 𝘐𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘹 𝘨𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯

𝘛𝘢𝘨𝘴/𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: -𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺/𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴 (𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘴) -𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 -𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 -𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 /𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 -𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 /𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 -𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘰𝘤

𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 4 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘴𝘢𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

a/n: i recommend listening to About You while reading :> word count: 3k+

Touchdown, Japan.

Sae’s footsteps echoed in the airport as he made his way through the arrivals hall, the familiar sounds bustling all around him. He hadn’t planned to stay here—not for long, at least. He was only supposed to renew his passport, get some paperwork done, and then return to Spain. That was the plan.

But when his eyes skimmed over the crowd, they were searching for something… or someone. A glimpse of you. A ridiculous hope, he told himself, as he adjusted his grip on his duffel bag. But the thought had crept in all the same.

When he saw no familiar face in the crowd, he let out a small, resigned breath. His manager was already arranging a car, discussing schedules and paperwork, but Sae waved him off with a polite nod. "I’ll take care of things from here," he said, his tone final. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he knew he wouldn’t find it by sticking to anyone else’s plan.

Outside, he boarded the first train he saw, settling into a window seat as the city gave way to a peaceful landscape. The train sped along, and Sae found himself captivated by the scenery—the cherry trees, the distant mountains, the unending sprawl of fields. He pulled a postcard from his coat pocket, a small, well-worn relic he’d kept since Spain. You’d sent it to him years ago. The design was simple, almost dull: an old-fashioned black-and-white train winding along a cliff’s edge.

Turning it over, he reread your message, even though he already knew it by heart. It was written in your familiar handwriting, a little uneven but always full of love.

Hope you’re seeing beautiful things. I imagine Spain is everything you wanted. But maybe, if you’re ever back, you’ll think of me.

The train passed into a tunnel, casting everything around him in darkness, and he folded the postcard back into his pocket, lost in the memory of you. When they emerged from the tunnel, the view beyond his window transformed into a stunning coastline. Sunlight bounced off the waves, painting the ocean with flashes of silver. It was breathtaking—the most beautiful scene he’d ever seen.

The train began to slow, and as he glanced up, he realized it was his stop. He stood, clinging his duffel bag as he made his way onto the platform. With a subtle motion, he slipped his camera from his bag, feeling the weight of it in his hand. He crossed the tracks carefully, each step steady as he let the place wash over him.

He lifted the camera, framing the shoreline and snapping a picture. The waves lapped at the shore, soft and endless. A breeze rolled through, bringing with it a hint of salt and a strange, stirring sense of nostalgia. The memory of you, of your smile and the way you’d looked at him with such faith, swept over him. And he let it linger, if only for a moment.

Sae wandered through the park, hands tucked into his pockets as petals from cherry blossom trees drifted down around him. The branches overhead formed a soft, pink canopy, and sunlight slipped through the gaps, scattering across the ground in shifting patches. He lifted his hand, catching a falling blossom between his fingers. Its delicate texture reminded him of how things could be, how beauty often carried on just a moment before slipping away.

The path led him up a gentle incline to a balcony perched on a cliff. He knew this place well; it was one he returned to whenever he wanted to feel closer to you. He leaned against the railing, the cool metal steady beneath his hands as he took in the view. From here, he could see everything—the stretch of the town below, the winding river that glistened like a ribbon of silver, and the distant peaks softened by mist. But more than the view, it was what he felt here that drew him back, time and time again.

It's somewhere he goes when he needs to remember your face.

In a blink of an eye, he looked to his right, and his heart nearly stopped. There you were—or at least, the memory of you. Your face was turned towards him, lips displayed into that soft smile he knew so well. It was as if you were standing there beside him, that soothing familiarity radiating from your presence. He felt the corners of his mouth almost lift, the urge to smile back at you stirring in his chest unbidden.

But the vision slipped away as quickly as it had come, leaving him staring at the empty space beside him. He turned his gaze back to the horizon, letting the steady rhythm of the wind and the endless blue calm him. Memories came flooding back—of when he first saw you, of that spark he couldn’t quite define, of laughter and conversations that dawdled far longer than he’d expected.

This place, this view, always brought him back to you, a reminder that some faces remain etched in memory, even when they're no longer near. And as he stood there, he let those memories wash over him, soft and unspoken, held close like a promise only he understood.

Sae closed his eyes, leaning against the balcony railing, letting the wind carry him back to that late afternoon on the school field. The impression drifted into focus, clear and vivid.

The sun hung low, casting long shadows across the field as Sae practiced alone, his movements sharp and precise, each kick hitting the net with practiced ease. He’d been at it for hours, sweat running down his neck, his breaths coming in short bursts as he pushed himself harder, aiming for perfection.

“Alright, that’s enough, Mr. Midfielder.”

He turned, startled to see you walking towards him, a grin on your face. You held out a water bottle and towel as your eyes glinting with amusement.

“I’m not done,” he murmured, though his voice came out rough. He ran a hand through his damp hair, trying to mask his surprise.

“Sure you’re not,” you said, chuckling as you crossed the grass. “But you’re looking about one more kick away from collapsing, and I’m not about to let you pass out here.”

Sae shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips as he reached out to take the bottle from your hand. “You’re persistent, you know that?” he said, unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink. The cool water soothed his dry throat, and he was grateful, though he’d never admit it.

“Comes with the job,” you teased, handing him the towel. “Besides, someone’s got to keep you in line.”

He looked at you, his usual guarded expression softening just a little. “And you think you’re up for that?”

“Of course I am,” you replied, shrugging with a playful smile. “I’ve already got the towel and water bottle, so I’m halfway there.”

He gave a small huff of amusement, wiping his face with the towel. For a moment, he let himself enjoy the easy back-and-forth, a rare sense of calm settling over him. You watched him with a smile, as if seeing past the edges he kept so carefully sharpened. And something about that made him feel... lighter.

The next morning, Sae found himself on the beach, watching as people played near the water, their laughter mixed with the sound of the waves. The scent of salt and the cool breeze brought back a memory so lucid it felt almost tangible.

You were out there, dancing in the waves, the water lapping at your ankles as you tried to keep ahead of each incoming swell. You moved with a carefree energy, running and splashing like a child, a grin stretched wide across your face.

Every time the waves surged forward, you let out a laugh, darting just out of reach. Sae sat back on the picnic blanket spread over the sand, his gaze fixed on you, feeling his usual guarded self slip away in your presence.

Your laughter carried over the beach, a melody that cut through the steady flow of the ocean. It was a sound he could have listened to for hours—bright, effortless, and wide open.

Your hair caught the breeze, lifting in the sunlight, and for a moment, you turned towards him, raising a hand to wave, a joyful greeting that made his heart stutter. He raised his own hand, waving back, feeling his lips tug into a faint smile, one he couldn’t hold back.

He stayed there, watching you move with that unrestrained joy, a kind of happiness he hadn’t known he was missing until he saw it in you. You made the beach feel like more than just sand and water; you made it a place where, for a moment, he could let go, lose himself in the beauty of the present.

Later, the two of you sat side by side on the picnic blanket, the sun dipping low over the horizon. Sae rested his head in your lap, his eyes drifting shut as he felt your fingers thread gently through his magenta hair. The world around you both grew quiet, the distant sound of waves mingling with the warmth of the sand beneath you.

It was as though time had slowed, wrapping the moment in stillness. Sae opened his eyes and looked up, meeting your gaze. There was a softness, a kind of intimacy that didn’t need words. He could see himself in the reflection of your eyes, and for once, he didn’t feel the need to look away. It was a look that held a promise, something deeper than he could put into words, and he let himself stay there, letting go of his usual walls.

You smiled, a soft, almost shy curve of your lips, and he felt his heart tighten, a warmth spreading through his chest. There was something about the way you looked at him—as if you saw everything he was, and loved him anyway. In that instant, you both seemed to share the same thought, a secret idea that didn’t need to be spoken aloud: like you and he were married inside your heads.

He felt your hand settle against his cheek, gentle and warm, and he leaned into your touch. In that moment, there was nothing else he needed, nowhere else he’d rather be. It was just the two of you, alive in the quietness, connected by the simple, unspoken understanding that you were home in each other’s presence.

Sae moved quietly through the art museum, his footsteps soft against the polished floor as he made his way through familiar halls. This was a place he’d come to because of you, drawn back by the memories that faltered here as brilliantly as the paintings on the walls. He could almost feel your presence beside him, as if at any moment, he’d hear your excited voice pointing out the details, sharing the stories behind each piece.

He remembered how your eyes would light up whenever you came across a painting you loved, how you’d trace your fingers in the air along the brushstrokes as if absorbing every detail. You had a passion for art that he’d never quite understood before meeting you, but he loved listening to you talk.

You’d explain a painting’s history, the artist’s intention, every little thing you found beautiful about it. And he’d stand there, mesmerized not by the art but by the way you saw it, your voice like a gentle melody filling the silent spaces of the museum.

On one particular visit, he’d kept something tucked in his pocket, waiting for the right moment to surprise you. As you finished admiring a piece, he’d pulled out two cinema tickets he’d been hiding all afternoon, holding them out with that casual reserved look he wore when he was pleased with himself.

The way your face lit up when you saw them, the excitement dancing in your eyes—it was a look he’d never forget. You’d laughed, taking his hand and squeezing it, a soft ‘thank you’ slipping from your lips as you leaned into him. That sweet, simple moment had stayed with him, a memory he cherished in quiet spaces like now.

The museum felt empty without your voice filling the silence, without you by his side to make him see the art in a way only you could. He paused in the gallery, surrounded by paintings and memories, feeling the weight of what was gone but also grateful for the echoes that remained.

Sae rode his rented bicycle through the busy streets, the soft glow of streetlights casting a warm light on the city as the night unfolded around him. He pedaled steadily, feeling the cool night air on his face, watching people pass by. There was something strangely familiar about this, a comfort he hadn’t realized he missed. Was it the feeling of riding through Japan’s crowded streets… or was it the thought of doing this with you?

He could still see it in his mind—both of you biking side by side, weaving through the evening crowd, laughter filling the air. You’d always insist on stopping at the small market, grabbing snacks and sharing excited smiles as you pointed out your favorite treats. He loved watching you in moments like that, so carefree, so effortlessly joyful. His own smile would creep in as he watched you, happy just to see you enjoy the little things.

After the market, you’d take each other’s hand and walk with your bikes, finally making your way to the spot you both cherished—a clearing just outside the city where the night sky felt close enough to touch.

You brought out a paper lantern, and in the faint glow of a single match, you carefully wrote your wish on its surface: a wish that he’d remember you, think of you even when he was far away, chasing his dreams across an ocean. You knew he needed to go, that his goals couldn’t be put on hold, and you would never be the one to ask him to stay.

And Sae, who rarely allowed himself to be sentimental, found himself writing his own wish on that same lantern—a simple hope that, somehow, he’d see you again when he returned. Together, you released the lantern into the night, both of you watching as it floated up, a small glowing promise against the vastness of the sky. It drifted higher, carrying both your wishes as a gentle silence fell between you.

Then he saw it: a single tear tracing down your cheek. You brushed at it, trying to hide, but he saw and he felt an ache that he hadn’t expected. Without thinking, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the lantern disappeared into the stars above.

He held you tightly, grounding himself in that one last moment, trying to memorize every detail. And as you rested against him, he knew he would carry this memory with him—tucked away, always near, even from thousands of miles away.

In the quiet hours of dawn, Sae sat in the train, watching the world pass by outside the window as he headed to a familiar place, one he hoped you’d still go to. It was early, the sunlight barely breaking through the clouds, casting a soft glow on the quiet city below. As he looked around the empty seats, he couldn’t help but think of you sitting beside him, just like old times.

He remembered those mornings when you’d board the train with him, sliding into the seat beside him with that easy smile. You’d reach into your bag, pull out your earphones, and offer him one. The right one for him, the left for you.

And then the two of you would sit there, heads leaning close, sharing a single song as the train swayed gently down the tracks. Music filled the silence, a simple comfort between you both as the city woke around you.

The train slowed, the familiar chime signaling his stop, and Sae stood, feeling the slight weight of anticipation settle in his chest. He stepped off and made his way through the station, weaving through the early morning crowd, heading towards the cafe you both loved.

The place where you’d once sat together for hours, lost in conversation, watching the day unfold through the large windows that framed a view of the city and the mountains beyond.

When he reached the cafe, he slipped inside, inhaling the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee. He ordered a latte—the drink you’d convinced him to try years ago and clasped the warm cup as he found a seat near the window.

He took a sip, feeling the taste of memories settle on his tongue. Outside, the view stretched on, open and endless, he felt that ache for what was lost, for what could have been.

And then, he heard it. A voice, soft but unmistakable that made his heart stop.

“Sae?”

He turned slowly, his breath catching in his chest. And there you were, standing just a few feet away, looking at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. You looked… exactly as he remembered, yet somehow even more vibrant, like the years had only made you more beautiful.

Sae’s breath caught as he looked at you, a small, tearful smile pulling at your lips. “…You’re here,” you finally managed, voice soft and unsure, as though the words might break the spell. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

The two of you stood there, caught in the intensity of each other’s gaze. It felt as if the world had faded around you, leaving just the two of you, suspended in a moment you both had thought might never come.

Sae’s heart thudded steadily, each beat filled with the memories and promises he’d carried all this time. He took in the gentle glow in your eyes, that familiar warmth that he’d missed more than he ever allowed himself to admit.

He swallowed, trying to keep his expression steady even as a rush of emotions filled his chest. “I’m back, just for a bit,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. “But I… I didn’t forget about you. Not for a second.”

Your gaze softened, and a gentle smile touched your lips, one that hadn’t changed at all. “You remembered,” you murmured, half to yourself. “Even after all this time.”

Sae let a faint smile tug at his lips as he glanced down, then back to you, realizing he’d never forgotten any detail. “You were always right here,” he said softly, tapping his chest.

You laughed lightly, assurance slipping back a little while, filling the distance that had once kept you apart.

Sae glanced at the coffee in his hand, gathering himself. “Do you, uh… still drink lattes?”

Your eyes sparkled with that familiar hint of playfulness. “Only if you're buying.”

And as you eased into the comfort of each other’s presence, the years of distance and silence melted away, leaving only the closeness of the present. The past became a distant memory, and in that moment, it felt like you’d never been apart.

You and Sae had held on, had hoped, and at last, found your way back to each other in the end.

a/n: i'll be damned if i didn't finish it with a good ending.

likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

[alienatedhooman]

"You know I care..."

Itoshi Rin x reader, where you distance yourself from him thinking he has no interest in you, only for him to come running to you.

Rin didn't care. It pained you to accept that, but he really didn't care.

You were always there with him- talking, laughing, teasing and enjoying every moment. But when you realised how he never initiated any of it, you questioned yourself.

Do you annoy him? Is he really not interested? If you somehow disappear, would he even notice?

Given his resting bitch face, irritated eye rolls and annoyed sighs, the answer was clear. And so, you decided with a heavy heart that in order to preserve the little self respect you had left, you will do what is most logical- start distancing yourself from him.

As much as it hurt to not be around him, it was the best course of action to prevent your heart from loving him more only to be told he could never love you back.

You thought Rin wouldn't even notice your absence. The way you no longer attended his matches, or wait for him after class, or walked home with him, or sent him memes in the middle of the night, or steal every second to just be with him a little longer.

You thought he wouldn't bother, you were almost convinced he didn't- until he grabbed your wrist, yanking you away from your group of friends in the corridor.

"What's wrong?" he inquired, pulling you towards the lockers. His eyes bore deep into yours, like he might find the answer swirling behind your startled eyes if he stared intently.

"What?" you blink, taken aback.

"Don't act dumb," he spat, restlessly tapping his finger against his crossed arms, "why are you ignoring me?"

"I'm not," you shrug, trying your best to be nonchalant.

"Don't fuck with me, y/n" he breathed, his sharp gaze pinning you to your spot.

After picking through your words, trying your best not to show your own desperation to just give up on distancing and latch onto him again, you speak, "Stop acting like you care."

Rin's eyes widened, pure unfiltered confusion plastering his face. He blinked a couple times before clutching his head, "Gosh, what's wrong with you."

"Nothing," you shrug, sounding as confident as ever, "you know you never cared, so let me be. Besides, you must be delighted I stopped clinging onto you, annoying you to no ends."

You pivot on your heels, walking away until Rin's strong grasp holds you back and before you know it, he has you pinned against the locker.

His palms plant on either side of your head, into the locker behind. Rin's cold eyes stare right into yours, a blend of hurt and silent rage boiling in their depths, as his lips hover inches away from yours.

"Stop," his voice cracked and you felt his hot breath on your lips, "stop putting words in my mouth. I might have never said it out loud, but you know I care."

You gulp as heat rises to your cheeks when you feel his knee between your legs. He inches closer every second, caging you in yet still giving you enough time to break out if you want.

But you don't. You shove your plans of distancing yourself away because right now, all you want is to be impossibly close to this man.

Rin's lips press against yours, hot and impatient, and you totally give in to the desire in your heart. You drape your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he envelopes you in his arms.

When you break apart, you are shocked to find his eyes damp with the slightest hint of tears.

Rin knew his cold exterior costs him too much. But the moment he felt it would cost him losing you, he couldn't help but smack himself in the head and reach out to you. You knew it. All of it. Just by looking into his wet eyes, the fear of losing you still lingering in them, you knew.

"Don't ever think of leaving me again," he whispered against your lips before capturing them into a kiss once again.

©bluepurplepinklock (Do not copy, steal or translate my work)

[alienatedhooman]

out of breath, got me going like...

some of the attractive things that the blue lock men do. featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu ─ content: fluff, suggestive

note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic 👩‍🦯 just astronomically down bad writing all around

itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.

it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassing— the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.

it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, “no.”

the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phone— one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you. 

you’re absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.

it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. he’s standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasn’t that that got your attention— no, it was something entirely different.

he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin. 

“this what you wanted?” came a message right after, “i know you’re reading this right now, respond.” you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.

words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but that’s what feeds his ego— your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, it’s become a part of his gym routine.

itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.

driving with sae was a true test of control— specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.

it’s an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, you’re losing a battle to yourself.

it’s as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to sae— the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrest’s frame. and it doesn’t help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.

you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.

it feels like he’s taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before they’re back on the road.

it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what he’s doing. “you’re doing this on purpose,” you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.

“doing what on purpose?” he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evident— you can practically hear the tiny smirk that’s splayed on his lips. you’ve concluded that he’s sick in the head, that he’s playing with you right in your face. “i’m just making sure we don’t get into a crash, you baby.” and you willingly fall for it, every time.

nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.

laying in your lap, while you’re absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagi’s favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, he’d take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, he’d play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you don’t push it out of the way.

so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesn’t register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before he’s brushing it out of the way. it’s so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, he’s pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.

your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warm— taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that he’s already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. “you know,” you begin, “you could’ve just asked me to do it for you.”

"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until it’s wiggling the book out of your hand. (you don’t miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i can’t see you."

michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.

at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you

it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from him— he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.

he’ll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs— trying to get you to cave into him. “why won’t you look at me when you talk?” he’s leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, “mein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.”

“you can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,” you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.

you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almost— because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. it’s hard to focus when he’s this close, when he’s right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.

it’s not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention. 

“i promise, i’ll stop teasing you. look—” his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you do— his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. “keep talking, yeah?”

oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.

neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by ‘til the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and he’ll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, he’s already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesn’t think much of it when he does it— one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and he’s pulling at it without care.

but recently, he’s started to notice how intently you’d been staring each time he did it.

oliver’s got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you don’t even seem to notice. you’re too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.

it’s entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.

he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then he’s unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reaction— your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.

“like what you see?” the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you can’t help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but he’s also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.

“you wish.” you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s gonna take more than that.” that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly should’ve known better. it’s like you’re offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.

oliver still hates neckties; that’s an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.

yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.

it’s a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when you’re right by his side— he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.

so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.

“is this okay?” he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. “tell me if this is uncomfortable, and i’ll figure something else out. okay?”

it made you shiver— you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.

you nod, “no, this is okay.” more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. “thank you for asking.” he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more present— his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and he’s actively weaving you through the crowded streets.

whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. “sorry,” he’ll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. “did i hurt you?”

“no, i’m fine,” you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentional— but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what you’re thinking.

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

[alienatedhooman]

RIUOZZZ CONGRATULATIONS FOR 1K FOLLOWER'S AOEWQJKAKEW YOU DESERVE IT!!!! 💖💖🙏

I wanted to send an ask for your event if that's okay!!

I'd like a chocolate chip cookie and honey toast. For the drinks I'd like a matcha latte (Rin Itoshi) with a focaccia on the side 🙏

(I wasn't sure if we're allowed to order more than one pastries or not so please just do the chocolate chip cookie if it's not allowed! And I also dont know if we're supposed to clarify which character we want. REALLY SORRY IF IM BOTHERING BTW I WASNT SURE 😭 I'm new to Tumblr have mercy pls 🙏).

AGAIN IM SO HAPPY U HAVE 1K FOLLOWER'S YOUR FICS ARE ALWAYS SO PEAK🙏🙏 You deserve it fr

URGEHSV THANK UU SO MUCH😽😽 BTW I LOVE THIS

order’s ready! one chocolate chip cookie + honey toast with a side of focaccia and a matcha latte to go! hope you enjoy your treat ♡

♡  rin was that grumpy older kid who acted like you were the biggest inconvenience in his life, but somehow, he was always there. walking you home, waiting for you after school, making sure you didn’t trip over your own feet. he claimed it was because you were “too dumb to function alone,” but everyone knew better.

♡  you were the only one who could get away with teasing him. poking his cheek, calling him “rinnie,” hanging off his arm even when he grumbled about it. no one else would dare, but you? you had him wrapped around your finger since day one.

♡ growing up, you never really thought about it. rin was just… rin. your grumpy, blunt, overprotective best friend who acted like he didn’t care while caring way too much. but then one day, he shot up in height, his voice got deeper, and suddenly, looking at him made your stomach do flips.

♡ rin had his own crisis, too. one second, you were his annoying little shadow, and the next, he was getting irrationally pissed off when other people got too close to you. he didn’t understand why at first—why he got all tense when someone called you cute, why he felt the need to pull you away. then it hit him like a truck. oh. he liked you.

♡ the confession wasn’t anything crazy. just you rambling about something, rin staring at you with that unreadable expression, and then, out of nowhere, a mumbled, “i like you.” you blinked at him, all confused, and he groaned, running a hand down his face. “do i really have to say it again?”

[alienatedhooman]

“how long was the bet supposed to last?”

rin freezes.

your voice is calm. too calm. the kind of calm that feels unnatural, like the quiet before a storm. but there’s no storm in your face—no anger, no hurt, nothing at all. just an empty, unreadable expression that makes his stomach churn.

“who told you?” his voice comes out rough, forced.

you shrug, like it doesn’t even matter. like he doesn’t even matter. “does it make a difference?”

it doesn’t. he knows that. he also knows that this is bad. really bad.

“was it a week? a month?” you tilt your head slightly, staring him down. “or were you just gonna keep going until you got bored?”

his jaw tightens. “it wasn’t like that.”

“really?” you let out a breathy laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “because from where i’m standing, it kinda seems like it was.”

rin clenches his fists, frustration curling in his chest. frustration at himself, at shidou, at the whole stupid situation that never should’ve happened in the first place.

“you weren’t a joke to me,” he says, voice low.

“that’s funny,” you murmur. “because i kinda feel like one.”

he wants to fix this. to reach out, to grab your wrist, to tell you the truth—how the bet stopped meaning anything the second he got to know you, how he tried to find the right moment to come clean but was too much of a coward to risk losing you.

but he waits too long.

“say something, rin,” you say quietly. “anything.”

he opens his mouth. closes it. because nothing he says right now will be enough.

so you nod, like you expected this, like you already knew how this would end.

“got it.”

and then you walk away.

rin lets you. because what else can he do?

—

the next day, your favorite drink is waiting on your desk.

you don’t touch it.

the day after, rin is standing by your locker, holding out your books.

“you don’t have to do this,” you mutter, not even looking at him.

“i know.” but he still shoves them into your arms before walking away.

the day after that, he shows up at practice late because he spent an hour in line getting that stupid pastry you like.

“you think buying me stuff is gonna fix this?” you ask, raising a brow.

“no.” he stares at the bag in your hands. “but i know you like them, so just take it.”

you sigh, but you don’t give it back.

on friday, he carries your bag before you can complain, waits for you after school even though you ignore him the whole walk home, and when you finally snap and ask what the hell he’s doing, he just says, “making it up to you.”

saturday morning, you open your door to find him standing there, hair messy, dark circles under his eyes, holding a stupidly large bag of snacks.

“seriously?” you cross your arms. “you’re still on this?”

“yeah.”

“why?”

he exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “because i’m not giving up on you.”

you blink, caught off guard by how sure he sounds. how raw he looks.

he looks tired. frustrated. desperate.

like this actually means something to him. like you actually mean something to him.

you chew on your lip, eyes flicking between him and the bag in his hands.

“…you got my favorites?”

“obviously.”

“did you get the right drink this time?”

he exhales, shoving it into your hands. “yes.”

you stare at it for a moment. then sigh, stepping aside.

“fine. come in before you start looking even more pathetic.”

rin doesn’t need to be told twice. he steps inside, and for the first time all week, his chest feels a little lighter.

he still has a long way to go, he knows that. but if you’re letting him in, even just a little, then maybe, just maybe, he still has a chance to prove that this was never just a bet to him.

[alienatedhooman]

rooftop storytime with Dick and Damian

for fellow Dynamic Duo 2.0 enjoyer @gotham-snark!! wanted to complement her amazing art here!! 🥺💙

[alienatedhooman]

Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later

Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...

Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now

Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍

You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.

“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.

Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.

Because of your never-ending sickness.

“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”

“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.

You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.

“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.

“Thank you for your help. Again.”

You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.

“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.

Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.

Right?

-at the wind hashira estate-

“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”

Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.

“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.

“Was it really that bad?”

Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…

“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“

Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?

“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.

Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.

Until your eyes find Genya.

Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…

“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Maybe that is even worse.

Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.

“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.

An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.

Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.

But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.

In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.

“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.

Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.

“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”

Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.

Straight towards the two boys.

Straight into the firing line.

Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.

“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.

“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.

“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”

The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.

“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.

Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…

“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.

But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.

“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.

He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.

“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”

Oh.

Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.

Until now.

“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“

“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.

“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”

It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?

“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“

“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.

“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“

You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.

The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.

“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.

And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.

You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

-a few hours later-

“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.

Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.

But why did he say all those dumb things, then?

“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.

“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.

What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.

“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“

“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”

“Did you ask her, though?”

“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.

“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”

Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?

Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.

Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-

His eyes widen in sheer horror.

You’re gone.

Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.

Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.

Did you leave?

He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.

“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”

Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.

“Is she fine, why did she-“

“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“

“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“

“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”

Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.

Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?

“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.

-at Mitsuri’s-

“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.

Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.

“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.

“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”

Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?

“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.

“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”

Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.

And reveals no other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?

“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.

“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.

“What?”

Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.

“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.

Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.

“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

You turn away before you lose your composure completely.

“Why are you here, Sanemi?”

“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.

“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“

“(y/n), please.”

His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.

Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.

Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?

“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”

“Sanemi…”

“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“

“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.

“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.

“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”

“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”

That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.

“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.

“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”

“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”

Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.

“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.

“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”

“No problem, I’ll carry you-“

“You really don’t have to carry me-“

“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”

“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you have to tell her everything?”

“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

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@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[alienatedhooman]

Hello sabitos wife 🥺

Im taking the opportunity for you saying I could request a Nemi :)

Possibly if you are willing to do it, I’d want some apologetic Nemi. Maybe the situation is that Sanemi became quite distant from the reader (female reader) due to him getting upset over the reader getting heavily injured from a battle.

He kinda freaks out at her for getting injured and calls her weak and she just crys so he leaves and he doesn’t talk to her for a bit.

If the end could be fluff that would be great :) sanemi becomes a lil lonely boy and he apologies and becomes a little soft bean to her 🥺 takes care of her and stuff :3

Thank you once again for being my Nemi supplier. Your a great writer and person. I wish you the best in life 💗

Midday

Pairing: Sanemi x reader

Category: angst to fluff

Warning(s)/note(s): fem! Reader, nemi can’t control that mouth of his

+Hiiiii tysm for the kind words, i hope you enjoy! 💕

Maybe in a small part of your mind, you’d been hoping Sanemi would coddle you, for a lack of better word, upon seeing the blood soaking through the bandages on your forehead. He’d been alerted of your little run-in with that lower moon which had, you admit shamefully, gotten the better of you and leaving you with nasty lacerations. Sanemi had been on a mission of his own, but your crow had come back squawking that he was on the way back to Kocho’s estate.

Your expectations were were drowned out by the slamming of the shoji door when he strode into the room. He was covered in blood, and he looked a disheveled mess but his expression stayed hostile even when he bent down to your height. For three heartbeats, he said nothing, taking in your state, the bloodied bandages on your arms, legs and the square shaped cloth patched to your right cheek.

“What were you thinking, taking on a lower moon?”

You were unable to hide your frown at that. “I was on a mission, all the back-up teams had been destroyed-“

“And you could have been fucking destroyed too. Do you realize that?” You didn’t like his tone; too slow, he sounded like he was trying to make you understand something far too simple, showing a toddler how to walk.

“I know, Sanemi, but i had to help. In our line of work-“

“Our line of work doesn’t suit you, [Name]. You should quit.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but nothing came out. You were far too incredulous at the turn this reunion was taking. You were hurting, both physically and emotionally and needed kind words, maybe soothing silences. You didn’t need your lover rebuking you for trying to save lives. Particularly when he saw no problem with slicing his arm open to lure in demons with his blood. It occurred to you in a small part of your mind, that his being inconsiderate was probably just his concern for you, and he was only having trouble wording it out. But you were egged by his implication.

“Let me get a word in edgeways.” You uttered through gritted teeth. He clicked his tongue and cast his gaze to the ground. “You can’t tell me to quit. I’ll quit when i want to. So i got some cuts, i’m a fucking demon slayer, Shinazugawa. How many of us have died fighting? It comes with the job.” You hadn’t meant to use his last name, and his head shot up when you pronounced it but you were too angry, shocked and betrayed to think straight. The pain that emanated from your wounds helped you not.

« Those who die are weak. The ones that don’t last long are the ones that don’t got much fight in them, that passed Final Selection out of goddamn luck and you’re one of them! And you’re not gonna last long! You think you’re strong enough to take on a Lower Moon after what, killing a couple scrawny demons? And who saved you? Fucking Tomioka. » he was breathing hard now, and his fist came down on the bed beside you, bouncing off the soft mattress. You were trained not to be bothered by such inconveniences, but silence befell the room and you watched Sanemi catch his breath, yourself swallowing thickly, adjusting the pain in your throat while you forced yourself not to cry.

Neither of you spoke for the longest time, and even the outside of the room seemed quiet. There was no longer the faint buzz of voices from the nurses, the patients. Had they heard your outburst? When Sanemi got up, it was only to turn and leave without so much as a word of apology to you, a sign of remorse.

Your life, which had never been a smooth current of water, became all the more difficult. Sanemi avoided you for the longest time, taking on more missions, training for longer periods of time. When he’d call it a day, he’d stay out of the room you both slept it, away from you, locked up in his dojo. Night was the hardest time, when there was only silence with neither of you facing each other.

You truly had no idea what this degeneration was coming from, surely he wouldn’t stop talking to you.. only because he thought you were weak? You’d told yourself to give him since you knew he had quite the anger issue, but it’s been too long.

The sky was dull and grey when you’d approached Sanemi, who was chugging water from a bamboo bottle. He’d discarded his uniform top and sweat beads were visible on his face, arms. His sword rested at his side on the engawa. He heard your sandals crunching the dirt path, and his eyes flickered towards you and stayed fix on you as you approach.

“I’m quitting,” you said in one big breath.

He frowned. “You’re quitting what?”

“The Corps. You’re right, i’m weak. If i quit, will you- will you stop being mad at me?” You voice cracked just a little and heat flared up in your cheeks. Arms slack, you gripped the sides of your kimono. For the longest time he stared at you with incredulity, his hand occasionally squeezing the bamboo.

“Hey- wait. You took this decision ‘cause you think i’m mad at you?”

“Aren’t you?” You shot back.

He seemed to hesitate, standing up. “No. Not mad. I could- i could never be. » he took a step towards you and placed a heavy hand on your head. He looked conflicted. « I’m not mad at you. »

You stared at him. « Then why have you been ignoring me? What’s with all the avoiding me bullshit? »

« Thought you might need some time after.. what happened the other day. I blew up. »

You snorted. « Yeah, but don’t you think it would’ve been better to talk to me? »

His eyes darted towards a nearby tree, which suddenly seemed a great deal interesting to him. « I didn’t know how to approach you. »

You laughed for the first time in days and the sensation was something like a wilting plant being given water. Caught in your mirth, you risked a glance at Sanemi to find him staring at you with incredulity, but his lips were twitching at the corners and he looked like he was stifling a laugh himself.

“You’re an idiot,” you breathed out.

His ears reddened. “Shut up. I didn’t fucking know what to start with- i’m sorry for being shitty?”

“That would’ve been nice.”

He pulled you into his embrace wordlessly, his chin resting on your head. “I’m sorry for being shitty.” He muttered. “And you don’t have to quit the Corps just ‘cause of me, you got your own life and decisions. I shouldn’t have interfered.”

“Yeah,” you let your hands rest on his chest, mindlessly tracing a scar. “Thanks for being concerned.”

His hold on you tightened by just a hint. “Don’t die on me.” His voice was still gruff, but there was something so weak with that sentence, like he was pleading you. Pleading you not to leave him, after he’s lost people he loved one too many times.

[alienatedhooman]

THE MOMENT THEY WANTED TO MARRY YOU

FEATURING. sanemi shinazugawa, giyuu tomioka, obanai iguro & mitsuri kanroji

WARNINGS. gn!reader, fluff, comfort, reader and iguro are naked (no nsfw), hints to iguro’s past

NAVI | KNY MASTERLIST

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA realized he wanted to marry you one day when he came home late at night to find you asleep at the dining table, apparently waiting for him. after the loss of most of his family, the shinazugawa brothers had moved into your home after you offered. you lost your mother to an illness not too long after, making it only you three who inhabited the tiny home.

you always cared for sanemi, and sanemi had always cared for you. so when you learned of his nightly activities, it worried you. sometimes he’d come home with torn clothes, and other days sanemi returned with fresh wounds. if you hadn’t fallen asleep by then, you’d dress his wounds tenderly. it wasn’t any better after joining the demon slayer corps.

the thought of him putting himself in danger like that gnawed at your stomach the first few weeks. but then time passed, and you no longer feared as much. there was always a possibility of losing sanemi, but he proved himself to be strong, both physically and in drive. though, you always prayed for his safety.

your upper body leaned on the low table, chest rising and falling as sanemi approached. the meal you set for him had grown cold a long time ago, but he’ll eat it regardless. first, the boy was going to carry you to your futon. though, the sight of a sleeping genya, whose head rested on your thigh, made him pause.

in his sleep, the young boy clung to your figure. and it was no wonder you only supported your head on the table with one arm, the other one rested on genya’s back. it must’ve been uncomfortable for you, yet you remained in that position for hours, awake or not.

the first one sanemi carried to their respective futon was genya. he was much heavier than before, the older boy thought. he was glad that genya was growing properly, especially with how much you fed him. the black-haired boy loved your cooking so much he almost always ate nearly half of it.

sanemi eventually carried your slouched form to your futon. he set you down gently before placing your blanket over the lower half of your body. you got warm easily, so sanemi knew it would be best to not cover you completely.

the moonlight shone on your sleeping figure as sanemi brushed your stray hairs away from your face. his eyes traveled from you to the cold plate on the table. always so caring, you were. his gaze then landed on genya, who you always treated as your own brother.

sanemi, despite the many things he has yet to comprehend, was sure of one thing— his love for you. the two of you were still teenagers, but he was sure of his feelings. as his fingers traveled from your forehead to your cheek, cupping your face lightly, there was only a single thought that occupied his mind.

one day, in a world free of demons, he’d take your hand and ask you to be his.

it was when you were crying in his arms that GIYUU TOMIOKA knew that he wanted your hand in marriage. although he was skilled, he was rendered unconscious during a mission after slaying two demons with tricky demon blood arts. although he was only unconscious from night till the next afternoon, you couldn’t help but worry.

you were no demon slayer, so the thought of your partner being bedridden had scared you. you rushed to his bedside when giyuu’s crow informed you of his state. and as you sat by his sleeping form, the little butterfly estate girls told you that although he was littered with cuts, none of them were deep.

part of you always believed that giyuu was invincible. even though you knew he was the highest rank in the demon slayer corps, he never came home with worrying injuries. a few small cuts here and there were all treated by you before the two of you fell into bed.

seeing giyuu’s bare torso covered in white patches reminded you that giyuu was not invincible, and even someone skilled like him was vulnerable to injury.

compared to the corps members that already died before giyuu was assigned the mission, he was barely harmed. but since you didn’t see it that way, he saw the tears that brimmed your eyes after he woke up. your hug was gentle as if you’d hurt him if you squeezed him tight.

giyuu snaked his arms around your waist as you cried and told him how you worried for him. your words, even your tears alone spoke volumes about how much you cared for him. the black-haired man held you tighter, knowing that he cared for you just as much, and one day hoped to show you by proposing with a ring fit only for you.

you and OBANAI IGURO were lying bare in bed the moment he realized he wanted to marry you. it was late at night and the two of you had your limbs tangled together underneath a thick blanket, skin-to-skin for half an hour in near darkness. the muted moonlight that shone through the shoji door was only enough to outline the other’s figure.

obanai’s skin burned beneath your smooth fingers, the gentle touch scorching his very being. you always had that effect on him, especially when he was most vulnerable to you, when he was bare.

your fingers brushed the skin of his cheeks, lightly touching the part of his face that he always kept bandaged up. your fingers ran over the bumpy skin once more before you cupped his cheeks, pressing your forehead to his.

there were a few nights you’d spend like this. though, it was always so dark. you wanted to see your lover in full, but knowing how he felt about it, you never forced him to. after all, it had taken you some time to get used to the reminder of your own past; the large scar that ran from your chest to your belly button.

you laid your head back onto your pillow before you asked him if it was okay to light up a candle although you expected him to politely decline. instead, he hesitated before saying you could. after you asked once more to be sure, the black-haired man decided to light the candle for you.

his face, illuminated by the candlelight, turned towards you. obanai watched as you crawled towards him and sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. you told him that his beauty never failed to make you awe as he snaked his hands onto your hips.

you smiled at him lovingly before you laid your head in the crook of his neck, finding comfort in your position. he tucked back a piece of your hair before resting his cheek atop your head. obanai thought someone as tainted as him didn’t deserve such love from you, someone so pure. however, you wandered into his arms with no argument, embracing his being. obanai was sure that when the time was right, he’d marry you under your favorite cherry blossom tree.

the two of you were having brunch when MITSURI KANROJI realized she wanted to marry you one day. being the absolute bundle of joy she was, mitsuri was excited about the brunch the two of you planned days before. you’d be coming over to her estate, so the woman made sure to have lots of food prepared.

you arrived at mitsuri’s estate earlier than planned with a tray of sakura mochi you made just for her. although she ushered you to the dining room while she rushed the rest of her cooking and baking outside, you couldn’t help but wonder what was taking her so long. and when you realized it was because mitsuri was running all over the place to pay attention to everything she was cooking at once, you opted to help her.

you smiled at the love hashira, telling her she didn’t have to do all of this by herself, especially since she was providing for their meal. with a blossoming pink dusted across her cheeks, mitsuri thanked you and the two of you finished soon enough.

with everything set on the table, the two of you dug in. mitsuri babbled about her recent adventures like always, and you listened with a small smile on your face. from the moment you met, mitsuri was always so bright. the happiness she had always oozed out of her being and spread onto you, though you’ve never minded it.

while you found yourself lost in admiring her, another blush made its way onto mitsuri’s cheeks. your fond stare nearly made her heart melt when she noticed it. setting down her bowl, she felt her heart race against her chest as a certain thought crossed her mind.

you seemed to have caught yourself and quickly coughed before eating some of the fluffy pancakes she had made, commenting on how good they tasted. mitsuri giggled before she grinned endearingly. if you got married one day, then maybe the happiness of sharing a single meal would continue forever. truthfully, she wished that day would come soon.

NOTE. i was so into sanemi’s coming up with the other 3’s was a bit difficult 😓 sorry it’s a bit ooc (imo) this is my warm up dw

—requests are open + join my taglist !

@aureatchi @soleelia

[alienatedhooman]

— my protector

Tengen needs your help in trying to locate his wives on a mission, and Sanemi is furious.

Get me a man who’s only soft for us, stat😫😭

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, reader is a fellow hashira, jealous Sanemi (for literally no reason), possessiveness, rough sex, slight degradation, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding, creampie.

Word Count: 4.2k.

All Sanemi could see was red, fiery red as he roamed the halls of the Butterfly Mansion, ignoring the pain in his right arm from the wound Aoi had just patched up moments earlier.

“Shinobu will kill you if she finds you drawing your sword in here!” Aoi called after him, but Sanemi could care less as his eyes sought out the Sound Pillar.

He had just returned from a three-week-long mission to find out that Uzui had enlisted you for help on one of his missions. Practically offering you up as bait to try and find his wives who had gone missing, like that was even your problem. And Sanemi knew you were always so eager and willing to help, it was something he loved and loathed about you at the same time.

The rage continued building inside him as he pulled open another sliding door aggressively, the wood gliding back from the force as he skimmed another empty room before continuing further through the mansion.

“Listen to me, Shinazugawa.” Aoi huffed, followed after him as one of the only people inside the mansion who weren’t scared of the white-haired man, “I told you Shinobu won’t be pleased to find out you’re breaking all her doors.”

“Fuck her,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, “Where’s Uzui?”

“If you would’ve actually stopped for five minutes to let me explain, instead of being such a jerk,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, “He left with her a few hours ago. Said it couldn’t wait much longer, that his wives may be in danger—”

“How the fuck is that her problem?” Sanemi growled, “So he isn't here?”

“No, but I would advise you don't follow him. Your wounds—” Sanemi ignored Aoi, already halfway down the hall as he marched towards the entrance, determined to find you on his own. It was when he stepped into the courtyard that he saw Uzui coming in by the front gate with a wide smile on his face.

“Ah, my crow told me you were back!” Uzui made to step towards him to finish the conversation, but Sanemi’s sword was already drawn as he stepped towards the larger man, “Perfect timing, my friend!”

“You fucking left her there?” Sanemi barked, “Why are you back here?”

“I came to get you at the request of your lady love,” Uzui grinned as Sanemi curled his lip in irritation at the pet name, “She made me promise to tell you as soon as you got back from your mission because she wouldn’t be around. And I thought you'd prefer a personal greeting.”

“Why the fuck are you sending her on your missions anyway,” Sanemi continued, ignoring Uzui's grin, “And leaving her there!”

“It hasn’t even been twelve hours,” Uzui shrugged, standing in place even as Sanemi stepped towards him.

“That’s already twelve hours too damn long, you prick.” Sanemi drew his sword as he made to lunge towards his fellow hashira.

“She’s probably safer there than she’d ever be out in the field,” Uzui dodged a blow with the hilt of his sword, the guard barely protecting his hands as he used his body weight to push the Wind Pillar back.

“Probably?” Sanemi roared, “She’s probably got sick fucks like you all over her right now.”

“Oh,” Uzui’s lips curled into a cocky smirk at the admission, standing upright as he pushed some fallen hair away from his eyes, “So that’s it— you’re jealous.”

“I ain’t jealous, you fuckwad.” Sanemi grunted as he attempted another slash towards Uzui, knowing it was serious when the wind user hadn’t even bothered to use his power.

“Sure seems like it,” Uzui scoffed, taking another step back to avoid his attack, “Nothing is stopping you from visiting her, you know. She’s only a few towns across and I'm here to take you right to her.”

“Oh, you’re taking me to her,” Sanemi spat, “Right fucking now.”

“Someone is asking for me?” You raised a brow suspiciously at the implication. Wondering if this meant the demons had realised that you were in fact a slayer intent on taking their head. Your stomach swirled in trepidation as you tried not to show any fear, smiling at the young girl by the door as you bowed your head.

“Yeah, and frankly I’m glad,” She clung to the belt of her kimono, “He looks scary!”

“I definitely don’t want to spend the night with him,” Another girl grimaced, “I don’t think I’d make it out alive.”

You frowned, worried that you wouldn’t have time to access your katana to holster it beneath your kimono. Instead, all you had was the small dagger strapped against your thigh, which you were certain wouldn’t be enough to protect you from the attack of a demon. But at least it was better than nothing, knowing he wouldn’t attack until you were at least secure back inside this room as you bowed your head. Following her down the stairs to the entrance of the establishment, feeling a cool breeze tickle your ankles from the open door and curtain flowing in the wind.

Your heart stilled when you noticed the familiar man standing by the entrance, glaring at anyone who dared look his way as you felt your chest swell with familiarity. You hadn’t expected to see him here this night, and you certainly hadn’t expected him to be asking after you.

“Is this the girl you were asking after, my Lord?”

“Yes,” He grunted as the Madame motioned him to step forward and follow you back to your room.

You had to stop yourself jumping him in the foyer, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and cling to his broad shoulders.

Feeling the heat practically radiating from his body as you slid open the sliding door to your room, stepping to the side to allow Sanemi to follow before sliding it shut. And in an instant, his rough hands were grabbing hold of the fat at your hips to pull your body against his, your lips meeting in a bruising kiss.

Your hands reached up to thread through his messy hair as the scent of the woods mixed with his natural sweat invaded your senses. He clearly hadn’t bothered to bathe when he returned from his mission, far more concerned with finding you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He spoke against your lips when you finally pulled away for air, still holding onto you as your nails dragged against his scalp, “I had to come home to find out you’re helping Uzui?”

“Tengen needed my help,” You murmured, and Sanemi’s nose scrunched in irritation at the use of the Sound Pillars' first name.

“Tengen,” He mocked the pitch of your voice, “Has three fucking wives that can help him, I only have one.”

“Technically,” You parroted his tone, giving him a cocky smirk as you felt his fingers press into the skin at your hips, “I’m not even your wife.”

“You’re as good as,” Sanemi scoffed as he stole another kiss, “And Uzui would do well to remember it.”

“His wives are missing,” You mumbled sadly.

“So does that mean he’s looking for a fourth?” Sanemi frowned at you as you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at his jealousy.

“No,” You lowered your voice to a whisper, “He hasn’t heard from them for a few days, the letters have stopped coming— and he thinks something bad may have happened to them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sanemi couldn’t lie that it had hurt to find out from someone else that you wouldn’t be there upon his return, whether it was jealousy or the fear of losing you he was unsure. But either way, it left him with that familiar sense of dread that pooled in the pit of his stomach and threatened to boil over.

“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t much time,” You did wish you’d sent your crow to warn him, but Uzui had promised you that he would let Sanemi know. Especially since you were doing this for the sake of his wives, “He needed my help, so I offered.”

“You’re far too nice.” Sanemi shook his head, using his grip on your hips to pull you into another sultry kiss.

“I thought that’s why you loved me.” You teased.

“No,” Sanemi scoffed, “I love you for your perfect ass,” He spanked your cheek for emphasis, “Everything else is either a bonus or a crux on my life.”

“You pig.” You scrunched your nose as Sanemi couldn’t stop himself from stealing another kiss.

“I’m kidding, sweetheart,” Sanemi’s eyes softened as he reached up to cup your face in a calloused palm. His thumb stroking gentle circles against your cheek as you leaned into his touch, “But you really should stop putting yourself in harm's way.”

“I’m a hashira,” You replied simply, “It’s what we do to protect others.”

“Protecting others doesn’t mean becoming a whore.” He spat, although you knew there was no malice there. The harsh tone covered up the fear and dread he felt in your gut at the prospect of something happening to you.

“And yet here you are, at the whorehouse requesting me by name.” You smiled back, relishing in the pink hue that dusted his pale cheeks.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” His tone sobered, resting his forehead against your own as he stared down into your eyes, “What a pitiful existence it would be.”

“You won’t lose me, Sanemi.” You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull his body against you, feeling his semi-hard cock press against your hip. The time without you made even more conspicuous when he's now surrounded by the comforting scent of you again.

“Did anyone touch you?” He immediately pulled back, concern evident in his features as he looked you over.

“No, I’ve been fine,” You shook your head, “They’ve mainly had me sitting down for tea with travellers passing through.”

“Good,” He pressed a kiss against your forehead in relief as he exhaled softly, “You have no idea how much I missed you, sweet girl.”

He peppered kisses along the curve of your jaw as you tilted your head back to give him more room. Your hands smoothed along his collarbones before dipping lower to trace patterns against the marred skin that scarred his chest, pressing your fingers into the ridges as you felt the tacky sweat clinging to his skin.

“I missed you too,” You whimpered gently as his teeth found your pulse point, biting down on the sensitive skin as his tongue lashed against it.

Sanemi bullied his muscular thigh between your parted legs to keep you steady against the wall as he shamelessly fiddled with the belt of your kimono. Letting the fabric fall open as he drank in the sight of your bare skin beneath, his firm hands immediately paw at your bare sides. Noticing the small dagger that you had holstered against one of your thighs as he ran his fingers over the handle of it in satisfaction.

“That’s my girl.” He murmurs, “Not planning to use that on me are you?”

He teased, pushing it back into the holster as he moved his hands back up the curve of your hips towards your chest. Truth be told, he was relieved that you had some form of protection in here. Especially when there was the chance that a demon was responsible for the spate of missing persons in the area.

“It depends if you’re nice to me or not,” You mused.

“I’m always nice.” The words coming from Sanemi’s lips alone were enough to have a melodic laugh rumbling in your chest, as for most, Sanemi and nice were complete contradictions.

“Liar,” Throwing your head back in a pretty laugh that had Sanemi’s heart rattling against his rib cage.

“I mean, I’m always nice to you, aren’t I?” Sanemi’s thumbs stroked the underside of your breasts as he delighted in the way your body responded to him, curving your back towards him as your bare cunt pressed against the flat of his thigh.

“We shouldn’t,” You murmured, “Not here—”

“Let me have this, sweetheart,” He hummed, leaning down to capture one of your pebbled nipples between his lips as he sucked hard, “I am a paying customer, after all.”

In fact, he was going to get that money from Uzui for his pure subordination.

“Why pay for something you can get for free at home?” You teased as he afforded your other breast the same attention, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as you let out another airy moan.

“My girl wasn’t there when I arrived home, and I had heard the girls here were beautiful,” He played along, “Apparently there’s one with the best fuckin’ pussy.”

“Oh yeah?” You gasped as you felt his fingers press against the indents of your thighs, dangerously close to your labia as you bucked against his leg. Giving your clit some slight relief as Sanemi continued forward, his thumb brushing through the wet slick that coated your folds as it drooled out of your neglected hole.

“Yeah,” He repeated, pulling away from your breast with a pop as he found your clit. Pressing sloppy circles against it with the calloused pad of his thumb as he watched you shamelessly grind yourself into his touch, “Apparently she’s already fucked into the shape of another guy though.”

“Must be a lucky guy,” Your eyes rolled back, knocking your head against the wall when you felt two of his thick digits slip inside your tight hole with ease. Scissoring them to loosen you up as he pulled back to watch you inquisitively through half-lidded eyes.

“The fuckin’ luckiest.” Sanemi grinned as he felt your walls throb around his fingers. He deliberately curled them towards the spongy spot inside you that he knew would have you seeing stars as he began to focus each roll of his wrist against it.

His name continued to spill from your lips as he kept his movements poised and focused, his rough thumb kneading circles against your clit as he worked you towards your release. No one knew your body better than he did, and he knew after being pent up for so long how little effort it would take to have you dangling on the edge of your release.

“Fuck, Sanemi.” You moaned, already feeling yourself dangerously close to falling, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” He spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and his blase tone immediately had your cunt clenching around him as you swan dived directly into your bliss. The pleasure surged through your body hard and fast as you came undone, his darkened eyes focused on your movements a he kept his fingers pressed against that same velvety spot. Following the wave of your hips as you rode out your release, unrelenting against the sensitive area as he already had you hurtling towards a second.

It was too much, and not enough at the same time. Your pliant walls throbbed around his slick digits as you wished for something more, something bigger.

“‘Nemi, fuck me please.” You whined pitifully.

“Such a filthy mouth on such a pretty girl,” He teased, but he pulled his fingers away from your sopping heat, lifting them up to the light to spread them as you noticed the silvery webs of your release clinging to them as he pushed them between your lips to taste yourself.

You tried to speak, but the pads of his fingers against your tongue muffled the words as you cleaned them off. His lips curled into a satisfied smile as he pulled them out of your mouth, dragging your glossy bottom lip down in the process as both hands immediately reached for his belt.

“When we get home I am fucking you like you deserve.” Sanemi spoke coolly, “Not some quick fuck in a whorehouse.”

“I deserve everything you give me, 'Nemi.” You smile up at him lazily before watching him tug his pants down, revealing his fat cock to your prying gaze.

You immediately reached for it, and he let you. Hissing when your smaller palm wrapped around the girth of him, giving him a teasing jerk that had his nostrils flaring and his jaw locking. Your thumb swipes over the swollen tip to gather the pearl of pre before smoothing it down his length, delighting in the choked grunt that rumbled at the back of his throat.

“Is that so?” He continued, “So bending you over the moment I get you home will be deserved,” His voice darkened, his own palm joining yours against his length as he tightened your grip on his cock, holding your hand steady as he fucked himself into your fist, “You tease.”

“Fuck,” Your cunt throbbed around nothing at his suggestion, as you instinctively spread your legs further apart, “Please, 'Nemi.”

Sanemi curled a palm beneath your thigh to hoist it up against his hip, spreading you open for him as you guided the leaky tip of his cock between you. Stroking it against your drenched folds as you coated him with your essence, moaning when the swollen tip nudged your puffy clit. Feeling yourself growing more impatient as Sanemi pulled his hips back to tease you, pushing your hand away from his cock as he wrapped himself in a fist. Pressing the head against your tight entrance as he felt your hole tremble against him, trying desperately to coax him in as he indulged himself with your reaction.

“‘Nemi, don’t be an asshole,” You pouted as you tried to can’t your hips forward, feeling the tip breach your entrance before he was quick to move his hips back. More than content with teasing you, despite being in such an open, compromising place.

“If I were an asshole I’d leave you unsatisfied like this to search for the demon myself,” He goaded, pressing his hips forward once more.

“Sanemi,” You whined in irritation, “Don’t tease me, please, it’s been too long.”

He didn’t give you a moment to think before he was bullying his cock inside your tight cunt. Your inner walls stretched to accommodate his girth as he moulded you to the shape of him once more, reminding you of exactly who you belonged to. The sensation stole the air from your lungs as you could do little but cling to his broad shoulders as he afforded you a moment to adjust to his size, dragging himself from your velvety walls before canting his hips forward again. Setting a languid motion as he slowly rolled his hips against you.

“Sanemi,” You sighed in satisfaction as you felt whole once more. Too many lonely nights were spent dreaming of this as you felt him finally bottom out, the coarse hairs at the base tickling your clit as you bit down on your bottom lip.

“We’re in a whorehouse,” He mused, still sluggishly rolling his hips into you, “It only seems right that I treat you like one.”

Your cunt clenched around his cock hard at the notion, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sanemi who grinned in satisfaction. His fingers tighten their grip around your thigh as he takes this as his answer.

Sanemi is brutal as he fucks into you, not sparing you a moment's peace as he uses you for his own gratification. The sound of skin against skin echos the small room as his balls slap against the curve of your ass with each forward cant of his hips. The ferocity of his thrusts has your breasts bouncing and your thighs crying out for some relief as you struggle to stand upright, thankful that Sanemi’s strong body has you pinned against the wall as he fucks into you.

“Oh my god,” You cry out, nails digging into his skin as he maintains his pace. His other hand squeezes at the fat of your ass as he angles his hips, the curve of his cock drags against the spot inside you that he knows will have you seeing stars as the blunt tip kneads your cervix.

“Look at me.” Sanemi growls, his warm breath fanning your face as he keeps a consistent pace.

Your eyes meet his and you’re certain you’ll cum under the intensity of his gaze alone, your cunt clenches in retaliation as he continues to thrust into your sopping hole. Each sultry moan he pulls from deep in your chest has him rolling his hips with more vigour, eager to have you repeat them as he works you towards your climax.

It’s pitiful really, how easily he has you submitting to him as you already feel the telltale signs of your climax ebbing in your pelvis. The pressure builds up as it nears breaking point as Sanemi pushes into you with more ferocity, using your body for his own means as he works himself to his own release.

“I’m going to leave you pumped full of my seed,” He growls against your cheek, his chest heaving as he feels his balls begin to tighten, “Leave it drooling down your thighs when I’m finished with you. So that everyone knows who you belong to—”

You knew this was a direct attack on Uzui, and the fact that he’d handpicked you for his assistance on this mission. Even though there was nothing in it beyond securing the safety of his wives, it had Sanemi oozing with jealousy and he was intent on reminding the Sound Pillar that you were not his plaything.

“Do you also need a reminder of who you belong to, sweetheart?” Sanemi spoke lowly as he fucked into your pliant walls, slipping a hand between your connected bodies to press sloppy circles to your clit.

“No, ‘Nemi—” That familiar sensation throbbed between your thighs as you teetered on the cusp of your climax.

“No? Then who do you belong to?”

“You, ‘Nemi. You—” You choked out, leaving messy red lines against his chest now as he pressed harder against your clit.

“Louder.”

“You, ‘Nemi! It’s always been you!” You cry out, certain that the rest of the floor could hear you as you began to gush around his cock. Your hips bucked wildly as he pinned you in place, keeping his thumb firm against your clit as he watched you ride out your climax. Indulging in the debauched noises that escaped from between your pretty, bruised lips.

“Good girl,” He snarled before moving his hand from your clit to resume a damn near savage pace. Rutting hips against your own messily, working himself towards his own end as he felt the way your walls continued clenching around him in the aftershocks of your climax, “Such a good girl for me.”

He arched his back so he could look down at where your bodies were connected, watching the way his thick cock disappeared inside your velvety walls. And the creamy ring of slick that you’d left around the base of him, the silvery lines matting into his pubes as he felt his balls begin to seize. Certain he wouldn’t be able to last much longer before giving a few more sloppy thrusts and emptying his balls into your warm, wet cunt.

Sanemi stayed buried inside you, feeling the last spurts of his orgasm surge through him as he coated your walls in thick, white spunk. Cherishing the final few flutters of your walls around him as you both came down from your highs, peppering kisses against your face as you placed a palm against his chest to feel his racing heart, the dull thump of it soothing you as you felt your thick lashes begin to flutter.

“Don’t fall asleep, sweetheart.” Sanemi rasped, starting to pull himself out of your spent cunt as you whined in objection. Trying to tighten your thigh around him to keep his hips in position as he grinned down at you; pressing an apologetic kiss to the side of your lips before looking down to see the mess of your combined release stringing against his length as the silvery lines split apart, “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta.”

You knew he had to go, Uzui was probably still waiting for him on a rooftop somewhere. Hopeful that you’d have some news to share with Sanemi about the whereabouts of his wives, but you felt the regret begin to pool in the pit of your stomach as reality settled back in.

“If you want to leave with me, I’ll take you right now,” He said as though it was the most simple thing in the world, “But if you want to stay in I’ll be watching.”

You didn’t have to tell him your answer, he already knew. Placing a final, lingering kiss on your lips as he held you in his arms, “Nothing will ever happen to you as long as I’m around.”

[alienatedhooman]

tw angst

I think if Satoru was capable of falling in love during his school days, he’d get married way too early than he should. He’d be 21, getting down on his knees in your block of a college apartment, asking you to spend eternity with him.

It’s a big ask, and your hands tremble, but you say yes. Of course, you do — he’s Gojo Satoru, he’d blink his lashes, his pretty blue eyes peering into your own and ask you to rob a bank and you’d be inclined to agree.

So you get married. It’s nothing too grand, as much as he insisted. You celebrate with a bunch of your friends with dinner at his apartment, which eventually ends with the two of you kissing at the corner of a dingy neon glazed club.

And it’s all sunshines and shots until university ends and then, you get a job you like and he’s taken over his family business as he always expected. You’re both coming home from work to get cooped under a fuzzy blanket. You have a glass in hand as you sip on some chilled wine, and he watches the blue of the sky from your new apartment. And you’re both so happy and in love.

And years pass and things seem the same.

Maybe too much the same and things get tiring, and maybe a bit too predictable.

Lying under the same blanket always ends with you passing out too early. Your head lolling against his sagging shoulder as the blue from your window seems a little too dull, a little less star filled for Satoru's liking.

And soon after, you feel your muscles growing tired too early into the day. You’re still young but you’re so tired, so you find solace in reaching for your bed than his arms.

And frankly, Satoru's tired too. He thinks it would take a special type of person — his wife — to suck the spark from his eyes.

He feels like he’s been trying this for far too long. With the company, with your heart, with your stupid cat — it’s all too much so he’s resigned from work for a bit and he’s designated most of his time to the couch.

He lives in the living room now, more or less — the thought of your bedroom makes him frown. It feels like time has stopped moving in there, with the picture frames — dustless and in tact, and your books sitting right alongside his eyes drops and shades.

He hates the rest of this house too. He does. It’s far too small for him, it always has been. He loved it at first, but then he longed for longer walks from the living room to the kitchen to the bedroom, but that’s just the way you preferred things. That's just how you are. You make him small so he can stand beside you. Maybe that’s a rude thing to say, or even think, but that’s just how he feels sometimes.

Divorce. His father has been suggesting it since the day he took over the company but lately, he's been thinking about it too. He’s thought about it a lot actually, but you're all he's known. It would end him, he thinks. But he’s sure of it... he’s sure he doesn’t love you anymore.

But then there are days. God, there are days. They’re not even special days, just ordinary days where you’re smeared with sweat after work. You barge into the living room, as you often do, loosening your tie as you open up the big window, letting the sharp cold air hit against his skin. You reach for the vinyl player, the one only you use, putting on a random record — usually some form of soft jazz. Then you merely resign to a chair by the window, munching on some Digestives. And he thinks, he’d be a fool to leave this house with you in it.

[alienatedhooman]

Gossips and Convenience Stores | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Gojo x Reader

Status: on-going

Summary: the story of how you single handedly managed to disrupt the equilibrium that is Gojo Satoru’s life.

Themes: hurt/comfort, fluff, smut, angst

Content: enemies to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, arranged marriage, exes to lovers, first love

I. Prologue

II. New Romantics

You represent everything that Gojo despises in the Jujutsu World yet you've completely enamored him.

III. You Are In Love (March 22)

Navigating the blurred lines between reality and obligation, you found yourself entangled in an arranged marriage with your best friend. Was it all for show or are you really falling in love with him?

IV. Say Don't Go (March 29)

V. I'm Still at the Restaurant

VI. This Love

main masterlist

[alienatedhooman]

helloooe i don’t know if u write for gojo (i’m new in your blog and haven’t seen gojo posts lately or maybe i haven’t scrolled far) and saw that your looking for angsty requests, can i request angst as in the different levels of gojo and reader, that gojo is so powerful and that the world constantly needs him so he can’t give reader enough attention, in a way actually hit them both in their relationship?

if not, it’s okay, i hope you’re doing fine!!

GOJO ANGST MY BELOVED-

---

"If you leave, you will come home to an empty house."

The warning falls confidently from your lips, as if premeditated and ready to be released into the air at any given trigger. Satoru stops getting his shoes on and turns to face you. Your eyes hold nothing but exhaustion, eyes under your bags dark and the lifelessness in your face sends a shiver through him. Had you looked so worn out all day?

"What... did you just say?" He whispers, brows pinching in the center in betrayal.

"You heard me. If you leave me right now, without a second thought of my regard, you will come back to nothing from me but my scent and this memory of us."

Thirty seconds ago, he smearing frosting on your nose and when you pushed him away, he’d peppered kisses over your face and fingers dug in your sides. Thirty seconds ago, you'd been interrupted in your baking by the man who would move mountains and swim oceans for you, only for his phone to ring just seconds later, calling him away like it always does.

Thirty seconds ago, he was kissing the laughter from your lips. Now, you’re threatening him.

You're cruel for this predicament, this choice and this bomb to be dropped on him mere seconds from him leaving for who even knows how long. But it doesn’t matter to him. You knew what you were getting into, and it’s not his fault he’s needed more often than not.

You should love him no matter what. As he does you.

He swallows thickly, "don't do this. Not right now."

You shrug, "this is your choice. Not mine. You know my terms.”

Bile rises up his throat and his hands tremble before fisting themselves into a little ball, "this is your choice, you doing this right now when I need to leave-"

“You always need to leave. I’m just sick of it.”

Now, Satoru just feels himself getting angry, "is this ultimatum really necessary right now? You couldn't have waited three damn days-"

"I think you're optimistic in guessing you'll only be gone for three days," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest. He sees the hurt in your features, but he merely shrugs it off as he continues to put on his shoes. “I’m not kidding, Satoru,” you warn. “You leave. I leave.”

“Then leave!” He shouts, hating the way tears sting at his eyes, “do it! I dont need you! You think I do? I’m Gojo Satoru.”

He does. Good fucking god he does, Satoru needs you like he needs water, craves food and forces breath into his lungs, he needs you like he’s paid to and loves you more than himself.

But you can’t know that. Even if not knowing it will drive you away.

You just your lower lip out and shrug, “then leave. Gojo Satoru.”

In desperation, he searches your eyes for something, anything to call your bluff, anything to tell him you’re lying, you won’t leave him. But your eyes tell him nothing, your eyes are closed off and protecting yourself from his venom.

He balls his fists and takes a sharp sniff through his nose in an attempt to ground himself.

“Maybe I will.”

He opens the door before slamming it shut behind him, the vibrations rattling his bones and making him feel even weaker than he was before. He knows that you might slam the door in a not too dissimilar way in but a few hours, cupcakes abandoned and bags packed into your car, leaving your keys in the mailbox and leaving his life for good.

All he can do is hope otherwise.

But in all the lies he can tell himself, that’s one he’s having a hard time believing.

[alienatedhooman]

𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

summary: being gojo's wife was better than you could have imagined, too good perhaps. when you have doubts about being with him, gojo must simply show you that they're wrong

pairing: gojo x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni, mild angst, heavy smut, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, heavy making out, gojo is a little possessive (but that's okay!)

note: this could be a historical au if you squint but i was too tired to go in-depth. also sorry for any typos, i might fix it later

word count: 3.3k

jjk masterlist

gojo saturo was a man who was always sure of himself. 

he didn’t need anybody to tell him of his strength. the word of his agility spread across the aegean sea, and his strength rivaled no other man. his stark beauty that only came with having a goddess as a mother, and his snide remarks that came with being fed with a silver spoon his entire life. 

and yet you had never seen gojo so angry. never seen his eyes turn such a shade of gray, his hair framing his face messily as he breathed as though each inhale cost him the regular amount three would take. 

his (your) sleeping quarters usually a comforting place for you to be, but it all felt cold now. you could barely look at him without feeling the bile rise in your throat, wondering if you finally ruined the lick of happiness you were blessed with these past few months.

who would have thought your words would have such an effect on him? 

"what do you mean let you leave?" he spat your earlier statement as if it burned his tongue, seared his flesh as he if the prospect was enough to set even the holiest man aflame.

"i," you paused, your back pressing up against the wall as tears treacherously stabbed at your waterline, “i just think that you could have somebody…worthier.” you used the heel of your palm to wipe at your cheeks, hoping that the darkness would hide your weakness.

he took in another labored breath as if hearing you say it again was the confirmation he needed to make sure he heard you correctly the first time. 

“you could have anybody, gojo,” his lips curled at the use of his last name, getting comfortable with hearing ‘toru fall off your soft lips, “i don’t want you to be bound to me because you wanted to spite-” 

“spite?” he throws it out, cutting you off, scoffing in disbelief as you nod slowly. 

“you don’t have to take me for a fool,” you say through a sniffle, the moon carding through the window as it bounces off of his beautiful face, “i don’t have much to give, but i’m not dense. i know that there wouldn’t be many reasons after spite to take me as your wife.”

he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, looking at you and then at the tears that stained your soft cheeks. he wanted to reach out and wipe them, to kiss the salt away, and to give you words that held his heart in each syllable but you would only deem them as moments to fill the silence and to please the gods.

“then you are dense if you think that’s why i picked you as my wife,” he tells you finally, the words cutting you through your nightgown and through your chest. you were aware he wielded the sword better than any grecian warrior, but you never would have guessed that his words could be just as powerful. 

“your mother wants-” 

“damn what she wants!” he cracked, shaking in anger as your lips wobbled at the flash that crossed his face, he rubbed his hands over his tired eyes, looking away, trying to calm himself down as his hair fell into his eyes, “have you ever stopped to think about what about what i want?”

you didn’t know what he wanted. you had always thought that the gojo satoru would pick somebody spectacular to be his equal, somebody whose name was just as prominent as his. you thought that his wife would have been a child of a god as well, somebody who could match him on his every level. 

but now you weren’t sure, your past judgment slipping away as you took in his disheveled state.

“i,” he sighed, looking at you as he shook his head, “i want you so much that hearing you say you want to leave damn near tore my heart out. i want you so much that my every waking moment is spent thinking, dreaming, wanting you. you are the only person that i care for.” he choked out, his voice raw as he pushed the strands away so he could see you.

you couldn’t find anything to say as your lips trembled as you tried to conceal your cries. if only he knew your petty tears came from years of these words being muttered in the back of your head, from the people around you, and only tonight did they finally spill. you were strong, and you could control your emotions better than most, but seeing him tonight with the woman blatantly trying to win his attention proved the fragility in your mask. you knew that accepting his hand in marriage meant having to have skin thicker than before, but after months of hearing the crude rumors of why he picked you out of anybody else chipped away at you before this was all that was left. 

“i didn’t want you to be my wife out of spite,” he takes a tentative step forward, hoping that you don’t cower away because of it, “i wanted you to be my wife because i loved you too much for you to be anything but.” he walks again, his long legs reaching you in a matter of milliseconds as he’s now closer than he was before, his striking eyes taking you in better as you look at him from above your lashes, not wanting him to see you this way.

“you are so smart yet sometimes you can’t see beyond what people tell you,” he murmurs, pulling you into his chest as you let him, this warmth something you knew you could no longer live without, “i will not let you leave.”

“but-” 

“listen to me,” he murmurs firmly, his fingers grasping your jaw as he lifts it up so you can see him. 

“i will not let you leave…unless you want to,” his thumb swipes away at the corner of your eyes, searching for answers, “do you want to?”

no, you don’t.

you want to stay. you want to wake up to his kisses and his gentle touch, the honeyed words he’d tell you as he held you close to his naked body. you wanted to stay and experience what it’s like having the strongest soldier as your husband, to know that he wouldn’t let a fly land on your head. you want him.

“no,” you look away, your cheeks heating up under his heavy gaze, “but-” 

“then don’t leave.” he cut you off again, shushing your doubts as he shook his head. his fingers trailed across your shoulders, long as you felt them travel down the cloth that covered your back, holding your waist as he ran them across the expanse of your body. 

he knew the things you told yourself sometimes, he’d comforted you those nights when the darkness sheltered your tears and all he could do was tell you that you were wrong and hold you close to his thumping heart. 

this was the furthest it had ever been. his heart was thumping erratically and he was sure it would jump out of his throat if you actually left.

“‘toru, i really think that….” you trailed off as he dropped his head down, his lips finding your neck as he littered wet kisses on your skin, mouth curling into a smile as he heard your breathing hitch. 

he gripped your hips tightly, undoing the knot that met in the middle of your collarbones, watching as your robe fell to show off your supple skin to him. you wanted to hide, never getting used to that hungry look that would take over his face as he eyed your breaths, his cheeks glowing pink as he nudged his thigh in between your two legs. 

“do you really think i could live without these?” he asked, his hands cupping your tits as he flicked his thumb over your pert nipples, your lips catching between your teeth to hide your whines, “without you?” his hands ran down your stomach, his nose rubbing against your cheek as he teased his lips over yours, a cruel grin threatening to make its way onto his stunning face as you tried to meet him where he was. 

“now you’re eager?” he taunted, getting drunk off of your helpless whines, enjoying knowing the fact that neither of you would be able to survive without the other, that he needed to breathe your air in order to live. he could taunt and tease you as much as he’d want, but in the end, he’d always oblige. 

he kissed you like a man starved, his lips crashing against yours as you let out a small gasp. he took the air from your lungs, your teeth clashing against each other as he held you to him, your nipples rubbing against his chest as he moaned into your mouth, wanting more. 

“want you, always want you,” you murmur against him, your fingers curling at the stray hairs at his nape, pulling him closer to you as you press up to kiss him again.

“then don’t ever say anything like that again,” he whispered, and for the first time that night you heard the vulnerability in his words, “i want you so bad that i can barely think straight without you.”

you wanted to apologize but he stopped you, already knowing the words that were going to come out of your mouth. He nipped at your lips, stealing your apology away silently, not wanting to see your pretty tears anymore, the sight hurting him more than any wound he’s attained in all his years as a warrior. 

dropping down to his knees as he breathed in your scent, his eyes rolling back as you tried to look away in embarrassment. He’d press kissed to your inner thighs, stopping just where you needed and wanted him most, taking your knee as he guided it upwards to rest on his shoulders, looking up at you as he rolled and smirked. 

“you think anybody else will love you like i do? treat you like this?” you shook your head, your fingers curling into his white hair as your head thumped against the wall, his hot breath fanning over your fluttering entrance as you whined out for him. 

“mmh, fuck,” he loved seeing you like this, beautifully naked, sweat dotting on your skin as you wrapped your leg around his back, “hurry up ‘toru,” you were impatient and he loved that about you. 

“anything for my wife,” he said, his mouth finally finding your clit as you let out a pleased cry, his fingers prodding at your dripping entrance as your eyes squeezed shut. this is where he loved to be most, the saccharine taste of you on his tongue, washing over his body as he grew taunt against his stomach. 

he sucked, his two fingers reaching deep in you as he curled them, switching them with his mouth occasionally as your grip on his hair grew tighter, guiding him up and down as he slurped your juices away, the sound echoing across the chamber. 

“just like that!” you moaned when he reached your spongy spot, your walls clenching around his fingers, your essence staining his chin as he looked up at you with a dopey look in his eyes, “fuuuck ‘toru,” your words were the sin that he longed for, tainting his existence with the presence of your love. 

he could feel you getting closer, his movements getting faster as he held one against your ass, cupping it as he brought you even impossibly closer to him, eating you out as he had never eaten a meal as good as this, and you did try to stop the noises that fell out of your mouth as you squeezed against him, creaming on his fingers as he brought you to your high, crying out his name as you tried to dig yourself against the wall.

your heavy breathing filled the room, your grip on his hair loosening up as he kissed your inner thigh one last time before disconnecting himself from your spasming pussy, grinning like a fool as he balanced himself on his haunches. 

“good?” 

“oh, shut up,” you muttered, still trying to catch your breath as he chuckled, standing up as he brought you to his chest once again. you would never get tired of him like this, your juices on his lips and chin as he looked at you like you were his god. 

he would argue that you most definitely were. 

he pressed his lips to yours once again, letting you taste yourself on him as you whimpered against his rapid movements, grasping onto his arms for support as you hooked a leg around his waist, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

you could feel him hard against your stomach, and you looked down, his robes not doing much to hide his length. 

“see what you do to me?” he said against the shell of your ear, your fingers running up and down his clothed cock, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling as you continued your motions, enjoying the way he dropped his head in the crook of your neck, “you’re mine.” 

“you flatter me,” you teased, your eyes still a little puffy but you cracked a smile, feeling him puff out a laugh as he shook his head, grasping onto your waist as though that was the only thing that could keep him standing. 

if only his enemies could see him like this; reduced to a mere mess all from your fleeting touch. 

“i’m being honest.” he sucks onto your neck, his nose nudging your jaw as you tug onto his clothing, your fingers grasping onto the sturdy fabric as you push it down, your eyes taking in his physique as he stands naked before you, the two of you finally even. 

“you’re so pretty,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth as your eyes rake over his abs, the faint scars that litter his torso, the white hair that leads down to his angry cock that leaks pre all over his stomach.

he snorts, rolling his eyes as he wraps your legs around his hips once again, hoisting your upwards like you weigh nothing as he rested his dick in between your puffy folds, cocking his head as he looked at you through his long lashes. 

“me?” he asks as you giggle softly, nodding as his heart flutters at the sound, “i wish. look at your eyes,” he presses a kiss against your lids, “and your nose,” he kisses the tip of your nose as you try not to laugh even louder, the giddy sound something he hopes the gods could hear so that would envy him and the woman he has in his hands, “and your lips,” he pecks them, “and your smart, smart head,” he presses another kiss against your hairline, balancing your body in his arms, “my beautiful wife.” he finishes, looking back at your flustered figure, proud of his work.

“stop,” you whine, not making any motion to actually stop him, bathing in the endless attention as he tapped his cock head against your clit, your laughs seizing as you look down, forgetting where you were, “you’re such a tease ‘toru.” 

“only because i love you so much,” he said, thrusting up into you as your mouth dropped open into a wanton moan, your head falling back as he took in a sharp breath between his teeth, never getting used to the way you clenched so tightly around him, making it hard to not come in just a matter of seconds. 

“f-fuck,” he moaned, his hot breath hitting your breasts as he dropped his head down to see where the two of you connected, slowly moving his hips as he moved in and out of you, his mushroom tip catching in your fluttering walls as your nails dug into his back, dragging red lines down as he began to rhythmically pound into you, “you’re so fucking tight,”

“mmmh!” you could only whine out, your words slurring in your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, the feeling of his dick thumping against you was better than any other feeling in the world, you could barely try to raise your hips up to meet him, but he took care of it for you, his strength never failing to amaze you, “l-love you so much ‘toru, m’sorry for w-what i said!” 

even if he was still caught up over it, he fucked you as if to make you forget about it. 

“my wife,” he’d mutter over and over again, searing the words into fate as he fucked you with so much love that it seeped out of his pores. Sweat caught on his brow and his cupids bow and you ducked down to kiss it away, the salty taste on your lips welcoming back as he feverishly kissed you back, “my wife.”

you loved the way his veins dragged up and down your walls, the rings of your essence and creams that frothed around the base of his cock, the way his thighs clenched as his fingers dug into your ass. 

this was something you knew you could never find anywhere else. gojo satoru was something you could never find anywhere else. 

“say your mine, f-fuck, say it,” he muttered against your skin, “need to hear you say it.” 

“m’yours!” your fingers tugged at his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as he welcomed the sting, “i’m only yours!” 

His eyes rolled back as you continued to flutter against him, his high coming faster than it usually would, but he knew that he couldn’t control it with the way you kept crying out his name in that honeyed tone of yours. 

“shit, i’m ‘gonna cum, cum with me, need to feel you cum around me…” he rambled on, your pussy made him crazy. And you were nodding your head, not knowing how to speak anymore as his hips shuddered, your releases spraying each other as he cummed deep into you, white trickling out from where he had you plugged out as you cried out from the pleasure that washed over your body. 

“you’re so perfect,” he whispered after a couple of seconds passed, and you were still trying to recover from your second orgasm of the night, his words warming your soul as he kissed your cheeks.

you looked up at him, suddenly bashful despite what happened, and he had the audacity to cackle at the sight. 

you were stunning always, but he loved this look the most. the sleepy but pleased look in your eyes as you clung to him, your arms draping from his shoulders as he walked with you connected to him, just as you should be. he loved the little smile that would always litter your lips after sex, knowing that if he were to die now he’d die a happy man.

“come on,” he kept you wrapped around his waist as he kept one hand under your ass and one tightly around his waist, “i’ll let you rest, but i need to get some things to clean you up.” his eyes trailed to the mess he made, trying not to let his cock harden at the white that painted your thighs and seeped out from your pussy, knowing you were too tired for another round. 

“i love you,” you muttered into his neck, pressing a kiss where your lips were and he shuddered. 

he squeezed you tightly to him, not knowing what he’d do if you were to leave. he was a man far gone, you had too much control over him to ever submit to any other king again. you were the only being who could tell him what to do, what to feel, and what to love. 

“love you most, my beautiful wife.”