#ginama imagine

[lilac-5ky]

The Embodiment of a Dream, pt.1 (Takasugi x Courtesan Fem!Reader)

A/N: Not me starting a new multi-part fic amidst another one and a pile of unwritten requests. But I've had this idea for a long while and the only reason it's multi-part is that I needed two parts to finish it. So, without any further ado, here's the first part, hope you'll enjoy it!

Plot: Struggling between the identity of the Kiheitai commander and his own, Takasugi starts visiting a Yoshiwara courtesan, hoping to find meaning, himself, and perhaps a bond that can't be bought.

Warning: First part doesn't include smut, but NSFW mentions are there. Also, mentions of blood, alcohol, and profanity? Idk what to warn against lmao just read and see for yourselves.

Part 2

(he's so soft and precious when he smiles i love him more than anything)

The first time you saw him, he was dressed in a long imposing coat with golden accents, an olive-green vest, and a white headband whose edges flew at every gust of wind. His expression hardened and stiff, the sole unreadable among his impressionable peers. A war general, the girls said, watching him and his company parade down the streets. And that was all they did. Fawn over his prideful posture and the sublime features of a face they hadn’t quite perceived, with the keen interest of a predator and the cowardice of a prey.

One would think that Yoshiwara was sated with beauty, and yet a pretty face rarely went unnoticed (especially when the vast majority of visitors consisted of middle-aged men with receding hairlines). But to you, all was fair game. A client was a client, and a wad of cash was a wad of cash, and for as long as you received the latter, you had no real preference for the former.

Unwilling to drown in the excessive drool that littered the second-floor balcony, you feigned an excuse regarding the stuffiness of the atmosphere and the suddenness of a client’s arrival and absented yourself to your room, the much-debated stranger soon fading from memory.

The second time you saw him came unexpectedly. The frigid man in the bright purple yukata and the contrasting haori who’d booked your company for an entire night was, unequivocally, him. An older version of him who had maintained his solemn expression and taste in golden hues and headpieces, if one considered the bandages over his left eye as such.

You didn’t speak a word of your one-sided acquaintance and led him to your quarters like you would with any other ordinary customer. Except he was unlike any other ordinary customer you had the honor of entertaining.

He was quiet. Skeptical. Withdrawn. He sat beside you and didn’t say a thing for hours. Didn’t even drink the drinks you served or give you more than a look’s attention as if this was his way of avenging your initial indifference. Perhaps that’s where he drew amusement from.

Mute stillness reigned in the room until the early rays of sunlight broke through the half-shut blinds, forcibly concluding your time together. He tossed in a few extra coins, thanked you, and left.

You’d kept company with more men than you could count, yet never in that sense. Some were cordial enough to engage in small talk and queries about your life. Others had no qualms about groping your breasts and forcing your legs open the minute you let them in. No matter how different each night began, it always ended in rustled sheets and a noticeable stain somewhere between your thighs. Such was the life of a Yoshiwara woman, and such was their sense of company.

But not his. He took pride in being the exception to that rule.

His visits were typically on nights when the moon shone brightest and the incoming tide of guests was great enough to conceal his traces. He ignored the various offers from rival houses and charged straight into yours, paying a steep price to the lady in command, who greedily seized the cash and sent him up to your room with a sardonic smile and a near-devilish “Have a good time!”

You pitied him, not because he was lacking in any way, but because he didn’t seem to be from these places. Because, if he were, then he certainly wouldn’t have spent a fortune on someone lesser than an oiran. And yet, in spite of his obliviousness, the man was determined to ask for one service, and one service only: a night with you. No distractions, no questions asked. Just you.

There was a time when you’d fallen sick during one of his visits. A vile flu had kept you (and many other girls) in bed for a week straight, leaving you so weak that you could barely move past the threshold to receive your meals. And with your days numbered and a regrettable lack of fulfillment plaguing you harder than the sickness itself, a rumor went around about a striking young man who’d turned down the house’s single most desirable girl in favor of a certain bedridden average-looking courtesan.

And while you thought this was the very end of your pitiful existence, you found spite in you to carry on and live a day longer, thinking you now owed him not only for his unfaltering loyalty but for putting that overconfident witch in her place. You got better, and no later than a day after color had returned to your cheeks, he too did, with a bag full of medicine in hand. Cough syrups, painkillers, and flavored antipyretics; everything a sick person could dream of asking for was in that bag.

Leaving you to figure out their purpose on your own, he reclined against the closest wall and indulged in his kiseru’s delight, his eye eventually falling shut. You took the chance and scooted closer, your intention to express your gratitude forsaken the second you looked at him. A well-defined jawline and a nicely curved nose. Lips that frowned and brows that furrowed even in his sleep. Soft skin, high cheekbones, and of course purple strands curtaining his signature bandages.

Whatever insight or intuition those girls on the balcony thought they had was wrong. Sublime was too small a word to describe him. His beauty was transcendent, and as much as you’d like to pretend otherwise, you physically couldn’t. Your fingers were already in his hair, gently parting it in half to reveal more of his face.

He was the first man who hadn’t made any advances whatsoever towards you, and that made you all the more ardent to touch him, though, as luck would have it, you came to realize that he was never asleep. Instead, he was staring at you in a baleful kind of way that would frighten even the gods, forcing you to jolt away and tumble on your knees.

“Are you feeling any better?”

Given your state, his question felt at best out of place and at worst a mockery. Your kimono’s layers were crumpled and your cheeks were burning with embarrassment. If you could dig a hole to escape his stare, you most definitely would, but then again, that wasn’t what he asked.

You answered him with a reluctant nod, which he acknowledged with a seemingly relieved sigh, and when he went back to his previous plane of tranquility, you knew better than to disturb him again. You waited out the dawn until harrowing shadows began to scatter across the paper-thin walls, and until he’d risen to his feet, his kiseru packed inside his yukata and his haori draped over his shoulders.

“My name is Y/N!” You declared.

His grip froze around the doorknob as he slowly turned around and did the one thing you’d never seen him do before.

“I know that.” He smiled.

“I— of course you do.” You replied stupefied. “But I wanted to properly introduce myself. You’ve spent a lot of money on me, and this,” you lifted the bag, “is a kindness I’ll never forget. Thank you!”

“Shinsuke.”

“What?”

“Isn’t this what you wanted to know?” He smirked. “I’m Shinsuke.”

You brought your hands down your thighs and bowed your head. “Thank you, Shinsuke-sama.”

“No need for formalities. Just Shinsuke is fine.”

“But you are a client! I could never-”

“You use honorifics for all men you sleep with?”

His comment stung as badly as that one time you’d pricked your pinky with a needle. Bad enough for you to whimper, though not badly enough to justify your reaction.

“No need to answer.” He shrugged. “After all, I’ll be seeing that for myself. Goodnight.”

“Good…night.”

A month went by without any of Shinsuke’s challenging visits, and even though your confidence still carried bruises, you found yourself hoping against an untimely termination of your relationship. He was a fascinating individual. A difficult man whose brooding demeanor, intractable attitude, and lack of subtlety worked to his advantage, underlining a well-disguised kindness. At least that was the image your brief encounters painted, up to the moment of his reappearance.

He stood outside the door as an inky silhouette, with his unlit kiseru dangling from his teeth and a wide sedge hat that barely fit through. You helped strip him off his outwear and accompanied him to the table, where freshly served alcohol awaited; sake of exquisite quality from Tosa, and two empty cups he wasted no time filling, before downing his share in one go.

You didn’t expect him to be a great drinker, or, really, a drinker at all. Not when he’d been this adamant on maintaining sobriety during the entire of your acquaintance. But once he brought the cup to his lips a second time without so much as wincing, you realized plenty was left untold between you.

“Are you gonna keep staring at me?”

Your chin nearly avalanched from your palm all the way to your elbow. A mistake this elementary was inexcusable for a courtesan more than halfway through her contract.

Unlike other, more profitable houses, yours had three simple rules to uphold: no looking unless you are looked first, for some clients are irritable and prefer to be in charge of the seduction. No drinking unless you are asked first, for one should be sober enough to perform their duty with poise. And finally, no forming personal attachments, for your job is to sell love, not fall prey to it.

So far, you’ve broken only one of those rules.

“Apologies, Shinsuke-san.” You averted your gaze to the floor.

“Better.” He commented, sliding one of the cups in your direction.

“I’m okay.” You shook your head, though the choice was already made on your account. “Thank you.”

The warmth of the chilled alcohol poured down your throat, and with it, much-needed liquid courage seeped inside your veins.

“You wanted to drink and yet,” Shinsuke pointed as he treated you to another shot, “you had none until I offered.”

“It’s impolite.” You said.

“Says who?” He asked.

“The rules”

“And who made the rules?”

“Lady did.”

“And where is that old hag now?”

You bit your tongue and that was all the answer he needed to corner you.

“Don’t bring up such lame excuses again. If you want something, ask for it, and if you don’t, deny it. I paid for a woman, not a puppet.”

“A courtesan’s life is more akin to that of a lifeless puppet than a woman,” you meant to object, though you couldn’t bring yourself to. This man looked you in the eye as if he meant his every word with utmost sincerity. As if to him, you really were a woman worth considering an equal, not one whose company he’d purchased with money, and for once, you found yourself eager to be worthy of the price.

“One more.” You gestured your cup and he obliged with an inconspicuous smirk.

“One more.”

Another rule broken.

The crescent moon waned past the murky clouds above, the bleakness of the skies identical to Yoshiwara’s once brazen hatch. Bustling were the streets to the uninterrupted traffic below, both newcomers and pleasure district connoisseurs moving side by side like a herd of mismatched sheep. And among the herd, the familiar presence of a man stood out, bringing about an indefinite end to your night’s dullness.

You rushed to your wardrobe’s mirror, ensuring that your garments —a dragonfly-patterned kimono of raspberry color and a lime-green obi tied to the front— were all in the right place, leaving only a fraction of your nape and ankles uncovered, before hurrying to the door.

A near-affable grin was plastered on his face from one ear to the other, making you wonder whether hell had frozen over, or something good had actually happened, a theory that confirmed itself as soon as he asked you to whip out the shamisen and entertain him. But when your fingers struck the first few chords of the song, his smile faded along with his amusement.

“Y/N.”

You raised your chin to face him, though there was no need. He was already beside you, dragging that shamisen away from your hands without even bothering to ask for permission. You didn’t mind. If anything, you were preoccupied with analyzing the brief imprint his fingers left upon yours.

What kind of occupation could a man with such delicate fingers have?

“In the right hands,” Shinsuke interrupted, “a shamisen can become an instrument of death.” He said, adjusting his grip over the instrument’s neck.

“Are you suggesting my playing could cause death?”

“On the contrary,” he smirked, “one should entrust you with neither music nor murder because you’d half-ass both.”

“That bad?”

He shook his head. “If you want your music to be worth listening to, then you should at least channel some emotion into it. A feeling, a memory, a thought, something.”

Slowly, he began strumming the strings in a seemingly unruly order, turning silence into sound, and sound into magic of the most captivating kind. This was sorrow, and this was regret, and this was a sonnet just as it was a requiem. A melody you’d never imagine a mere shamisen to produce.

“Remorse.” You concluded after he’d played the final note. “Your technique is masterful, but constricted. As if playing each chord to its full potential would break it.”

The corners of his mouth curved to a subtle smile that neither confirmed nor denied your suspicions.

“May I?” You asked.

Shinsuke dropped the instrument on your lap, while he sat back on his cushion and dragged his kiseru out of his yukata.

With one hand forming a loose grip around the shamisen’s neck, you plucked its strings with the bachi, trying your hardest to answer his tune with one of equal sentiment.

You drifted in your own memories, digging for a past where the sky was light blue instead of ebony black and the crystal waters of the ocean glimmered in the sunlight. Tiny boats stocked with fish sailed side by side, the fishermen calling out to the merchants to help unload the goods.

Somewhere between the crowd the faces of those you knew as family came to be, smiling and waving at you, as if they weren’t the faces of the parents who’d sold you off for less than wares, and as if the little sister you’d struggled to save hadn’t perished in the war with them.

And suddenly you realized you must have too been standing in the water, because you were rapidly sinking past neon lights and tea ceremonies, lovers who threw their greedy hands to have a piece of you, and envious women who wanted nothing more than to erase you. And you would have let yourself be erased, had it not been for the face of a man who listened to your song with compassion and intrigue, understanding all your tongue kept hidden.

“You are an interesting woman.” He mumbled, drawing his kiseru away. “Be it ‘hope in despair’, or ‘despair in hope’, you truly are interesting.”

“I’m humbled!” You bowed your head in acceptance of the compliment.

Rather than bringing the pipe back to his mouth, Shinsuke held it close to yours and ushered you to take a puff. You curled your lips around the tip, sucking the smoke in, and then twirled it around your tongue, secretly hoping that some of his taste was carried with. He watched you intently, his green eye refusing to look away even as he fell back to his seat.

Clouds of foggy smoke kept filling the room until he too became smoke that vanished.

“Only you are my heart’s master,” You beamed, nuzzling to the man’s arm while you walked him to the door.

Disgusting.

“Then what should I bring you from my travels? Some silk? Some gold? Perhaps some lace?” He asked, using your lacy undergarments as an excuse to grope your exposed skin.

Disgusting.

“Please, don’t!” You chuckled, not-so-jokingly pushing his hand off. “What will your wife say?”

“That old shrew doesn’t have half your charm, Y/N. She’d look no better than a bear in a bathing suit.” He sighed. “Come on, just one more for the road?” He awaited no answer before burying his head between your breasts and kissing them hard.

Disgusting.

“Please, stop, you’ll miss your boat!”

“You are so considerate of me.” He pulled himself off you. “I’ll write you, Y/N.”

“Have a safe trip, master! I love you!” Your confession brought his lips to your cheek a final time, making you wish you’d never said that out loud.

Disgusting.

“You are the light of my life! Goodbye!” And with that, the door closed behind him.

Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting, dis-gus-ting!

Everything felt so damn dirty and disgusting that you wanted nothing more than to claw your way out of your own skin. Every man had the exact same desires. To be pampered and be pleased. To be convinced of affections you lacked, and to be affirmed that in this floating world a hint of realness was meant for them and them only.

But if they thought themselves this special, why did they all ask for the same things? Why did their touch feel identical and numb, and why was there no substance behind their hollow words? Why could they not be him?

Your fists balled around the loose layers of your kimono, viciously yanking them off your body until you were met with the bare reflection of a stranger in the mirror. Though that person had your hair and eyes, you couldn’t recognize it anymore. The little girl you knew to be you was long gone, giving way to this distraught young woman with smudged-up lipstick and mascara running down her face.

She reached into your closet and pulled out a silky robe with a pattern of red cranes on the back. It was a gift, you remembered once you saw her wrap it neatly around her waist. A gift from a client whose name you couldn’t recall, for a forgettable night, deleted from your memory. And while the woman appeared strikingly beautiful in it, all you thought about was how utterly filthy and repulsing the sight was.

Nothing in this room belonged to you. Not the fabrics, not the mirror, not even the reflection staring back at you. Everything served as a reminder of a dream that existed between the blurred lines of fiction and reality. A dream you could never wake up from, for that dream had become the very essence of your fragile existence.

You saw the woman leave and you had no choice other than to follow, taking step after step outside your room’s four walls and into the empty corridor that led to the house’s shared baths. Thankfully no other girl was around. Everyone was booked for the night and they shouldn’t be back any moment soon, sparing you from the intolerable idle chatter you despised.

You swapped your robe for a towel and quickly found all that was needed: a cloth, a stool, and a bucket that you filled up with fresh warm water. The woman was there too, her tired expression flickering between the swaying ripples of the bucket. You rolled the cloth between your fingers and dipped it in, thoroughly scrubbing your body inch by inch-especially the area of your thighs.

Hardly a trace of him remained, yet for as long as that woman’s complacent smile challenged you, the feeling of sheer disgust persisted with her. It wasn’t the man that was repulsive. It was her. The you that spewed pretty lies and batted her eyes in a horrifyingly coy way that had all convinced, but you.

You tossed the bucket as far away as possible, watching her idol evaporate into steam, reminiscent of his pipe’s smoke. Come think of it, he’d been an awful lot in your mind lately. You usually had no real opinion regarding your clientele, but there was no denying you’d grown fond of your time together.

Some nights you drank without exchanging a single word, and other nights you sat playing the shamisen in turns, each putting a name to the other’s undisclosed desires. You never touched, not once. But something in his eye was different than before. At times it was distinct sympathy, and at others, it was subtle ardor that made you wonder what it’d be like for him to act upon it.

Would his touch feel as indifferent? Would your fondness continue to grow even when there were no clothes left between? Would your moment of fleeting freedom last?

Whatever this strange feeling was, it was separate from disgust. In his presence, all was tolerable, and in his absence, nothing right. In his presence there was realness, and in his absence, where you thought was void, a nearly unnoticeable thud insisted on reminding you that dreams, too, have hearts.

Because that was the night you found out that even dreams are capable of having dreams and hoping in despair.

Three…Two…One…

Vibrant flowers of color blossomed across the skies. Grandiose roses, charming asters, and alluring spider lilies whose petals dissolved in brilliant rain of vivacious sparks. Chaotic cheers spilled everywhere around you, each balcony host to a different love story as ephemeral pecks sealed the ending of one year and the beginning of another.

New Year’s Eve in Yoshiwara was quite the event. Every house that respected itself -yours included- knew to toss extravagant parties rich in champagne and desire, the women flowing perhaps more freely than the glasses served. Only a few elite bidders afforded the fee of being there, and those who didn’t, or rather, those who wanted their darling’s embrace to be privy, followed them into the upper floor rooms for twice -if not thrice- the regular asking price.

No, the services provided were hardly any different, but the value of that first kiss of the year ended up skyrocketing as if the lips involved were made of pure gold, and naturally, no one raised objections to that. Not the clients, not the women who awaited them at home, and certainly not the girls who got extra coin out of their infatuation.

It was laughable, really, and perhaps you would have indulged in a chuckle if it weren’t for the man who kept you company.

You’d never spent more than two New Year’s Eves with the same man, and this time was no exception. Except, that it was the first time you got to spend it with someone whose presence alone didn’t nauseate you.

Admittedly you knew next to nothing about Shinsuke. His name and that excruciatingly handsome face of his were the only two things you were certain of, yet they were enough for you to question what a man like him was doing there. Did he not have a person more significant to him to share this night with? Could he not see the hypocrisy behind it all? Or could it be that his great wit was an excuse behind a bigger scheme?

And suddenly you expressed all these thoughts in a manner that was most insolent, with your eyes glued to this one revolting couple on the opposing building’s balcony that made your guts churn in revulsion.

“Why are you here?”

Shinsuke, who’d been twirling an empty champagne glass between his fingers, shot you a blank stare. “Am I unwelcome?”

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to express myself this poorly.” You apologized sincerely. After all, your wish wasn’t to target him but to find yourself an ally. “It’s just that,” you continued, “unlike the rest of our clients, you don’t seem interested in making the most of our services. Not to mention, you are more than capable of earning a proper woman’s affection without money.”

Fearing matters were unsalvageable, you turned your back on him, though if you hadn’t, then you would have seen that the expression on his face was one devoid of any true resentment and that the sly smirk he sported was product of a childish whim he chose to follow.

“Is this not part of your services?” Shinsuke asked as he enclosed your body in an audacious embrace, his one palm stopping right where your obi began, and the other seeking refuge upon your hip.

“It… is.”

“And do I still seem disinterested?” He breathed at your nape, each word teasing to leave a kiss on its stead.

“Of course n-not.”

“Tell me, Y/N. What makes a woman proper?”

“A woman that can bring you happiness and,” you gulped once you felt his lips near your ear, “and afford to be seen by your side without being pointed at.”

Your answer made him pull away.

“I can’t tell whether you think too highly of me or too lowly of yourself,” he sighed. “In any case, I’m not someone who can afford to be seen, with or without the proper woman you describe.”

“What does that mean?” You lifted your head enough to get a peek at his face. His eye keenly watched something on the horizon, likely that aforementioned display of affection.

“It means, I’m not as proper of a man myself.”

A pause let his words sink deeper within the hefty atmosphere. Even when the words “familiar strangers” could perfectly define your relationship, not once did you consider the possibility of Shinsuke being a man viler than those you despised. And even if the thought had crossed your mind, then you must have gotten rid of it at once, because you refused to believe that the one authentic person in your life was a fraud.

“Do you still wish to know what I’m doing here?”

You nodded almost instantly.

“I’m looking to test the limits of a dream. Does a dream end where another dream begins or is one created anew? Can a man named Shinsuke be just a man who pursues the company of an improper courtesan, and no more than that?”

Although the nature of his questions was highly rhetorical, he maintained enough silence for you to answer him. And when you did, your words referred to a life more akin to the one you’d lived and the troubles you’d faced, and in doing so you realized that perhaps the key to decoding this man was one you already possessed.

“The floating world sustains all sorts of dreams, Shinsuke-san. What’s a dream of exquisite beauty to some, can be a horrid nightmare to others. But for a dream to be defined and then refined, it needs to first be dreamt of by somebody else, or else it’s no more than an abstract, fleeting fantasy.

“The man you are in here is the man you are out there, as the sum of your thoughts, and actions, and even your own dreams, and the dreams of others. ‘A man who pursues the company of an improper courtesan’,” you repeated his words, “is that really the kind of man you wish to be, Shinsuke-san?”

“Not entirely, I’m afraid.” He said. “Right now, I wish to be the kind of man who makes the most of your services.”

His disarming smile had succeeded in its cause, both lowering your resistances and painting your cheeks with an alarming shade of feverish red.

“If that’s what you want, then you can go ahead.”You whispered.

“What about what you want?” He hummed in your ears. “What is it that you want me to do?”

You could think of many reasons to justify your next response. The champagne, the scenery, the sudden intimacy generated between you. Even the way that brunette had her tongue stuck down that flabby man’s throat for the past twenty minutes. But in the end, all those designated reasons were nothing more than excuses, aiming to debunk or simply downgrade the volume of your heart’s desires.

“I’d like you to kiss me.” You stated, looking into his one good eye. “No, I… I want to kiss you.”

And suddenly your lips collided, making it impossible to tell who’d been the one to initiate, for you were tilting your heads and sharing your breaths in such natural sync, that it felt as if this was a kiss shared countless times already. The smoke on his tongue and the restricted impatience, the hands that touched not where they were supposed to touch, but where they wanted to touch, and lastly the vague sentiment of those final fireworks that were extinguished in the night sky.

If Yoshiwara was deemed the floating world, then the voices you were hearing must belong to the most exalted angels of the skies, for you were soaring higher than the heavens themselves. Everything seemed brighter than it did a day, a week, a month, a lifetime ago. The boss’ soured face when you paid him last night’s fee was suddenly as sweet as anko. The girls’ dubious comments when you greeted them were as lyrical as poetry. Even bargaining with the local dressmaker over your patched kimono’s price was as pleasant as an exchange of pleasantries between old friends.

You were the happiest you’d ever been, and if Shinsuke was on your mind once before, he was now tenfold. Whenever you put your kimono together, the image of his reflection creeping up behind yours flashed within the mirror, prodding your body first with his eye and then with his lips, his hands working to untie and dishevel all you struggled to maintain. And whenever a man that wasn’t him showed up as a replacement, you endured it by picturing his touch and exaggerating the similarities, -such as the curves of their arms or the shared green in their eyes-, until you were convinced it’d always been him.

The further you delved into that kiss, the deeper you spiraled into the unknown territories of longing, your body experiencing something foreign to your heart. Even when you’d crossed lips with more men than you could count, none compared to a kiss of your own volition. It was your choice to kiss him, and given the chance, you’d kiss him again and again, until all others scattered like petals in the wind.

This is madness, you insisted on whispering through bashful smiles, your heart racing at a pace quicker than your legs. The sun had melted into a mellow pink before you, its final rays infiltrating the lonesome maple trees that flourished on each pavement while your shadow withdrew behind your shoulder. Soon it’d be nightfall.

Your bag bounced with each hurried step you took towards the house, the ever-increasing traffic forcing you to slow down. The streets were far busier than you’d left them, especially the ones that led to your destination. Colorful silken kimonos and achromatic cotton yukatas meddled together, the sandals of their wearers clicking in an unrhythmic song of wood and cork. Whispers filled in the instrumental as heads turned left and right, shooting curious glances at the nearby establishments.

Could an oiran procession take place this early, you asked yourself, but then again there seemed to be neither kamuro nor entourage of actual performers among the crowd. You closed in on them and tuned in for answers, quickly learning that an ounce’s worth of happiness in Yoshiwara was as ephemeral as a butterfly’s passing.

“Have you heard? Shinsengumi’s set off on a grand-scale manhunt!” A blonde in a company of three stated. Her back —in addition to the backs of her companions— was turned on you, withholding all details of her face, though judging by the lack of opulent accessories in her hairdo, she must have either been a tea house girl or a lower-ranked courtesan.

“…Rumor has it they are after a terrorist! One of those Kihentai guys!” A brown-haired woman picked up.

“Kiheitai, you moron!” The blonde retorted. “Those Takasugi goons Tsukuyo-sama warned us about.”

“Takasugi? As in the Takasugi Shinsuke?” The one in the middle asked with a shaky tone.

Takasugi… Shinsuke? your ears perked up at the name.

“Shh! Do you want them to call you in for questioning?” One of them hushed her. “Of course that Takasugi! He’s been seen loitering near these places lately.”

“Aww, you think terrorists get lonely too? I wonder what kind of woman a man like him fancies.”

“Careful, Hoshino!”

“Hm? Why should I?” The brunette, Hoshino, sneered. “Terrorist or not, I doubt a man resistant to my charms exists. Besides, if he’s pretty enough, I wouldn’t mind giving a special discount for him to,” her voice cut out, “my assets.”

Their crude commentary grew both cruder and fainter as the trio distanced themselves, solely their snide cackles persisting behind them. This… Takasugi they mentioned and the Shinsuke you knew. They couldn’t be the same, right? They weren’t, right?

Clenching the bag tight against your chest, you dragged your feet toward the entrance only for them to freeze right outside the threshold. A preview of that night began playing in your mind like a scene from a movie, the words that challenged the propriety of his character suddenly gaining a whole new meaning. He was a terrorist. A man who’d waged a war against the world. A man whose head alone weighed ten times the feeble sums he paid for your company. A terrorist.

No matter how many times you repeated the word, accepting it didn’t come any easier. Not because it was unreasonable so, but because you couldn’t accept that out of all the high and mighty men to have traversed your doorstep, the first man who hadn’t treated you as if you were a mere piece of meat for him to chew up and spit out was, as in matter of fact, a terrorist. What kind of sick cosmic joke was this? What kind of world dubbed a kind man a criminal?

“For the last time, our respectable business is no rebel lair, and under no circumstances will we give up our customers’ names! You can bring your Commissioner, the Shogun, or even Buddha himself, and the answer won’t change. Now leave, before you scare our clients away. Off to hell, you go!” The boss roared furiously as the door flew open, revealing two figures dressed in black from head to toe.

Shinsengumi, you gasped.

The first of the two —and consequently the one who’d opened the door— was a man of average stature with neck-length black hair and a rather forgettable face that did him no favor next to his partner’s taller physique and well-defined features. His sharp eyes held a wonderful shade of blue in them, capable of beguiling just about anyone willing to ignore the strictness behind them. Strictness akin to Shinsuke’s, you noted.

“Rowdy pimps.” The taller man cursed under his breath.

“Hijikata-san!” The shorter man nudged him, at last taking notice of your presence.

Coughing in his fist, the one you presumed to be Hijikata stepped out of the lobby and stood before you, his closed fingers revealing a tiny notebook and a slightly chewed pen. He reeked of tobacco and an odor you could have sworn belonged to a croquette sandwich, or more accurately, the condiment in it.

“Oi, miss,” he directed the pen at you, “you wouldn’t happen to have seen or heard any scum terrorists sauntering your quarters, would you?” He asked in a raspy voice.

“Pardon me.” You bowed. “Our house has no tolerance for criminals,” if the beginning of your sentence made him sulk in disappointment, then the incoming one was bound to deplete his patience, “other those your government produces.”

“You wench-”

“Hijikata-san, we should get going!” The unnamed man jumped in the middle, preventing him from lunging at you.

His azure-colored eyes burned with utter rage, digging holes in your skull even as he was quite literally dragged out of the way. His companion spelled a few meager apologies in his stead as they scrammed back into the crowd of people wondering what could have possibly gotten a high-ranking officer this agitated.

“Tax grabbing leaches.” You mumbled and entered the house.

Whether the Shinsengumi did the country any good or not, they remained one of the core bodies to secure and defend a government with less pride than that of a whore. They’d forsaken their honor and assumed fancy collars in exchange for getting to wave their swords at those who defied them. How’s that for public order?

Repulsive as their apathy was, you did your best to avoid them. However, there were times when you couldn’t help but wonder, what would have happened if they pointed their blades at the Bakufu and the Amanto instead. Perhaps then it wouldn’t have been all for nothing. The years spent in this hellhole. Your self-sacrifice. Her demise.

Cringing away from these painful thoughts, you made your way across the room, paying respect to the boss and the missus with a courteous bow of your head. Neither seemed overly eager to return the gesture. The woman was bent over her husband, continuously rubbing his shoulders in an attempt to soothe his frayed nerves, while he insisted to huff like a coal train. His ears had flared up in a comical shade of red that perfectly matched his flushed cheeks. Were you to stay a minute longer, and who knows, actual smoke could start coming out.

No one was fond of cops roaming Yoshiwara, let alone house owners whose business was disrupted by those pests.

You proceeded to the stairs, dreaming of the moment you’d be free to soak your feet in a basin full of warm water and rid yourself of today’s bitter aftertaste. To think minutes ago you were bouncing up and down in obliviousness— felt like a distant past.

“Took you long enough.” A somewhat familiar voice rang between the shadows of your unlit room, taking shape only after your fingers located the switch. “Thought I’d be a corpse before you made it back.”

“Sh-Shinsuke!” You dropped the honorifics along with your bag, nearly tripping over your own legs as you dashed to his side.

He’d dragged the table closer to the wall, balancing half his weight against the paper screen and half against his elbow. Blood stained his yukata all the way to its seams, the once glorious fabric torn into a rag of little value around his torso. There was no way of telling skin and fabric apart. All was red, and all was bleeding, your heart included.

And yet, he was smiling. A faint and effortless smile that could have been charming if it weren’t for the crimson drops streaming down the corners of his mouth.

“How,” you began saying, but you already knew. “Who,” but the answer was the same, and lastly, “Why,” but it was pointless to insist.

You shook your unfinished questions away and helped him find a grip around your neck, your hands then attempting to undo the knots of his obi. It was bad. Worse than you expected, and it was possible that your mediocre sewing skills wouldn’t cut it. He needed a doctor, a good one at that, but what kind of medical practitioner would put their life on the line for a terrorist’s life?

This was hopeless.

“Hold on,” your thumb pressed his fingers firmly against your shoulder, “I’ll take you to bed.”

Without raising objections, Shinsuke let himself be dragged to your futon. One by one, you peeled the garments off his body, leaving him in just his fundoshi and forcing him to lie on his back. A total of three gashes spanned from his abdomen to his outer thigh. Two were the result of a blade, while the last one could be traced back to a naginata or something of the sort.

“It’s not that bad.” You feigned a smile.

“It’s written all over your face how bad it is.” He tilted his head.

“I can fix it!” you said in an attempt to convince both him and yourself, though he didn’t seem to need guarantees. If anything, he was the only one composed, as if the matter didn’t concern him.

Briefly, you parted to scavenge through the room for your trusty sewing kit, finding it under a pile of fabric samples at the bottom of your closet and presenting it to him along with a near-empty bottle of sake. This was as far as proper medical equipment went.

You put the bottle beside him and fished out the sharpest needle you could find, one that was still blunt, though hopefully not overly blunt so as not to puncture his skin. The mere thought sent your lunch up your throat. You did not fare well with blood. Nevertheless, you picked the needle up and folded the edge of a white thread over its eye, slowly bringing the two together. You did that once, and then twice again, only to fail just as miserably. The needle refused to be threaded, and your fingers refused to quit squirming.

That is, until they did.

His hand scooped yours, the inside of his palm so soft that the way the needle’s end pricked your skin went unnoticed. You gazed up at him with eyes full of worry—worry that he mistook for fear—as his eye narrowed into a slit of green that averted in the opposite direction.

“You know.” He bitterly deduced.

“It doesn’t matter if I do. This changes nothing, I—”

“Then it’s not too late to give me up.” He continued as if he hadn’t heard you. “Won’t do your head any good if they find me in here.”

Your mouth popped open, your tongue struggling to put a sentence together. The courtesan in you thought it’d be best to stay clear of trouble, but the woman in you could only return his grip and pray he wouldn’t let go.

“A Yoshiwara woman doesn’t have much need for unnecessary thoughts.” Your voice made his head turn. “They’d be doing me a great service chopping it off.”

For what felt like an eternity, the two of you remained in agonizing silence that a wan chuckle came to interrupt. “A headless courtesan must be quite the sight,” he noted, “but for as long as your head is in its place, you have no right to be this stupid.”

“And you have no right to be this reckless,” you sighed, neglecting to add a filter to your words. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” He admitted. “I just didn’t intend for my men’s crude faces to be the last thing I see, and then next thing I knew, I was climbing up your window. Perhaps my aversion was that strong, or maybe the will to visit my improper courtesan one final time drowned all sense left in me. Who knows?”

“And you call me stupid.” An inconspicuous blush weakened the volume of your voice. “Nothing says you won’t die! The only experience I have with stitches comes from sewing dresses.”

He shrugged. “Alternatively, you can do nothing and let fate decide. Beats me.”

You set his hand down gently and continued your previous efforts as you pinched the needle between your fingers and successfully threaded it in one go. It didn’t matter what he said. You were going to save him, no matter what.

“Forgive me, but I have no intention of welcoming a horde of angry Joui rebels to my doorstep. If their faces are as horrid as you describe, then I’d much rather devote my attention to looking at your face instead.” You dipped the needle’s tip inside the sake to sanitize it. “Now hold still, this should sting.”

Shinsuke sat back against the futon, a complacent smile flickering underneath a pained expression he failed to hide. Any other ordinary man would be howling in agony, but not him. He didn’t budge in the slightest. He held still and refused to look away even as sake drenched his wounds and his skin was pierced by the cold needle’s edge.

“This calls for a larger tip.”

A/N: intercepting my own post to say that I hope to finish the rest sometime in February so I can resume my Bakufu fic and then actually commit myself to my requests. If anyone's wondering, yes, I still accept those, and ofc I read your messages and thank you all for your support!

[lilac-5ky]

The Embodiment of a Dream, pt.2 (Takasugi x Courtesan Fem!Reader)

A/N: WELL, I said I'd finish this in February, but somehow it's April now?!?! Crazy, I know right .-. I'm so bad with deadlines, sue me or straight up murder me, I'll take either ;-; On another note, THIS AIN'T THE LAST PART OF THE FIC, there was a change in plans. The third part will be the final one, decided to break it into two pieces since I wanted the word count to stay in the 7k-8k words. Hoping this turned out good enough!

Plot: The continuation of the relationship between Takasugi and a Yoshiwara courtesan.

Warning: Similar to the first part, but this one actually includes smut.

Part 1

In the wake of Shinsuke’s injury, you found yourself running through the halls like a headless chicken, struggling your hardest to prevent an unprecedented situation from blowing up. The Shinsengumi were gone, but the hunt was far from over. If someone had seen him enter your room all bloodied up, someone who knew both his face and the name Takasugi Shinsuke put two and two together, then your heads wouldn’t be the only ones to roll. You sure didn’t hold the people of this house in high esteem, but you weren’t too keen on unnecessary bloodshed either.

Shinsuke’s coming occurred in secrecy, and a secret it shall remain until all conflict can be avoided.

Your first initiative was to weasel your way out of tonight’s workload. Fortunately, one look at your recolored kimono was enough to convince Boss to exempt you. Miscarriages were somewhat of a common trade feature, and judging by the sheer volume of red splattered across your skirt, yours must have been quite the excruciating one.

To say this was part of a bigger, elaborate plan would be a lie. But his false interpretation was most convenient when it came to limiting your quarter’s traffic and definitely earned you more time —three days off, to be precise— than any half-assed sniffling would.

He promised that a hearty dinner be delivered to your doorstep, and you graciously departed, leaving him to smoke through the contents of his hidden stash of Amanto-produced tobacco in peace.

You climbed the stairs back to your room, cradling your stomach and wincing in feigned anguish whenever one of the girls happened to pass you by. None offered help, and none dared make any inquiries. Under the guise of serving Yoshiwara’s much-treasured laws of privacy, they refused to admit their unwillingness to see past the ends of their noses. Not that you blamed them. You were all too familiar with the concept, and if it weren’t for a certain brooding patient confined within the four walls of your bedroom, then you could claim to abide by such rules yourself.

You caught Shinsuke sleeping a deep slumber, his breath quietly sizzling in his nostrils. The painkillers must have finally kicked in. Drowsiness was among the first side effects listed in the box’s endless list of instructions, though as far as you were concerned, the pills’ actual effect on him remained unknown.

What great irony, you sneered. To think that all this medicine that was once meant for you has now returned to him. Truly ironic.

Around him, torn pieces of cotton were sprinkled all over the floor like confetti; the kimono they composed no longer in existence. He wasn’t so provident as to carry extra dressings on him, and you weren’t about to go pharmacy scavenging in the middle of the night. And so, your precious customer’s precious gift ended in thin strips of amputated cranes and decomposing camellias, the first of which stared at you with an accusatory look that begged you to feel something other than the sickening delight you got from snipping them.

After successfully discarding them, you dragged your dresser upon that one stubborn bloodstain on the carpet, grimacing at every instance of shrill sound that threatened to wake him up, and once that was out of the way, you picked out a clean outfit and headed into the bathroom, finding him in the exact same spot you’d left him, with the only indication of his being alive that of his consistently sharp breathing.

There was little you could do at this point. All that was left was to participate in this dull game of wait-and-see until he could confirm his own condition himself.

But what if he didn’t wake up? What if it took him longer than three days to recover? What if he never woke up? Not after three days, not ever again?

Thoughts of equal concern festered in your mind all the while you watched after him, your fingers itching to drop the sewing kit and shake him awake. Unlike that time you’d mistook him for asleep, his current expression appeared thoroughly serene. His identically shut eyelids could very easily be home to a pair of identically green orbs, and as for his lips… his gaping lips were almost calling out to yours.

You sighed loudly and crossed the thread through another hole in his yukata. Without its owner wearing it, the fabric hung lifeless in your hands, creasing and crumpling at your needle’s disposal as you tended to each and every damaged butterfly wing. One would think these were a shogun’s or even an emperor’s garments, for such was your reverence, and yet the color of the patches regrettably turned out a shade too light.

Another sigh followed, joined by a deeper one that was certainly not yours.

“How are you feeling?”

His eye fluttered slowly enough to remind you of its singularity “Like I should be dead instead.”

“I’m glad you aren’t,” you grinned, feeling a weight dropping off your shoulders. “I’d hate to lose my favorite customer.”

“And here I thought you simply wanted to avoid getting jumped by a mob of samurai,” he said, his voice gruff from sleep. “So? Have you grown tired of playing nurse yet?”

“Not at all. If it pleases you, I can dress the part too.” You joked.

A dry chuckle scraped his throat. “Almost forgot we were in Yoshiwara.”

Securing the thread into a knot, you snapped the loose end with your teeth. The job was done, and while you wouldn’t call it as good as new, it seemed decent enough to carry him home— wherever that was.

“How about some water?” You proposed, but Shinsuke didn’t answer.

His interest was drawn past the window sill and the neon-light signs of the opposing building to the charcoal sky above. It was pitch black. No moon nor star dared peak beneath the clouds for fear of leading his pursuers back to him. All was shrouded in a veil of perfect stillness that fed into his gaze, creating a seemingly bottomless vortex at the center of his eye.

“Shinsuke…?”

As if an imaginary plug were pulled, the darkness began to dissipate, unclear whether it poured back out or further in. His shoulders rose up to his ears, although, no later than a second passed, a parched cough came to contradict his shrug.

You folded the yukata to the side and fetched him a flask of cold water. First, he groaned, and then his eye rolled in seeming disdain, but eventually his lips parted and let you tilt the sprout between, his hand forcing yours away once he’d had enough.

“You know, you try too hard to be insufferable.”

“And I’m not?” He smirked.

“Far from it,” you shook your head. “I happen to find your whims quite—”

Before you could finish your sentence, a knock against the door’s frame came to interrupt. Must be dinner, you instinctively thought and jumped up, motioning him to keep quiet, just in case.

Right outside the threshold, a tray that contained one steaming bowl of beef udon awaited, the rich aroma of its broth spiraling into your nostrils. Thick noodles, miso soup, shiitake mushrooms, freshly chopped scallions, and golden-brown sesame oil drizzled on top; the signature dish of the corner eatery. Boss didn’t kid when he dubbed this a “hearty dinner.” It almost pained you to part from it, but between the two of you, Shinsuke was the one who needed strength the most.

“Room service,” you declared, sliding through the door. “Please, quit being stubborn and have something to eat.”

He glanced your way apathetically, neither declining nor accepting your offer until a spoon was aimed at his mouth.

“That won’t be needed,” he propped himself onto his elbows.“I’d rather save myself some dignity.”

As he sat up, the sheets receded down his thighs, revealing a series of neatly wrapped dressings whose color gradiented to dark brown. Thank goodness, he must have stopped bleeding out.

You nodded in respect to his request and transferred the tray to his lap, watching each spoonful succeed over another and coughing loudly whenever your stomach dared act up. It felt so empty��� your body, that was. Drool drained backward in your throat, your mouth gradually assuming the raw dryness of cotton. Was this the taste of abnegation, you mused.

Becoming aware of your indiscreet stare, he suggested that you split the noodles in half, but when he did, you found it much easier to ball your sleeve over your fist and wipe the corner of his mouth with a smile on yours, ushering him to eat more.

Soon, the bowl emptied and Shinsuke reclined back to his previous position, whilst you sat to his right like a watchful sentry. The minute his head hit the pillow, the light in his eye dimmed, suggesting his exhaustion. Again, he seemed so worn out, that your name barely echoed as a faint whisper past his sealed lips.

“Anything else you need?”

“Undress.” The clear spelling of the word left little room for interpretation. Still, your first instinct was to cower in your corner.

“Don’t get any weird ideas,” he smirked.“Even if I wanted to express my… profound gratitude, those pills you fed me would stand in the way.”

“Then—”

“I’ve already indebted myself borrowing your food and bedding. Least I can do is return one of the two,” he continued. “Take your clothes off, or keep them on, if that’s what suits you. Just come lie down beside me.”

Your eyes locked to affirm the certainty of his tone. He was dead serious about his intentions, though the prospect of sharing a bed was perhaps more tantalizing than he’d intended it to be. It gave reason for your heart to beat faster and for a certain familiar tingle to surge between your thighs, ushering you to acknowledge it— which you unwittingly did, as you shifted in your place and pressed your knees together.

Your habit of fidgeting with your clothes in stressful times resumed, except this once, your fingers were tugging at the obi to loosen it up, each layer uncoiling into a pile of huddled snakes for you to stomp on, as you rose to your feet and shed off your kimono. You had his attention. No, more than that, you had his eye entirely hooked on you, studying each curve of your body with unmistakable interest and fascination, as if it were an art piece for him to appraise. And when he looked at you like that, you realized just how much you longed to be seen.

A little smile stretched from the corners of your lips to his, as you circled around the futon and slipped beneath the covers. Even when he’d barely budged from bed, your side of the linen remained excruciatingly cold for your skin to handle. You tried shriveling in half, but in doing so you bumped your head against his arm. You spluttered an apology and turned the other way, only to conclude the position was equally discourteous.

And thus, you ended up with your arms crossed over your breasts, your conscience idly counting wooden tiles in the ceiling and praying that their numbers were great enough for you to doze off— they weren’t. They didn’t exceed the double digits, and when you finished counting each about five times, you understood that sleep was never an option. Not when you insisted on stealing furtive glances at him, one patch of skin at a time.

You didn’t have the chance to fully appreciate it earlier, but Gods, he looked even better without a darn thing on. His body was the perfect continuation of his beautiful face. Lean, but not actually scrawny. Toned, but not too brawny either. Arms that were tried in strenuous swordsmanship and delicate collarbones that framed his pecs. A thin sheen of sweat coated his abs to the point where you could see them. It made his skin subtly glisten in the dark, and it made you want to skim over him; first with your palms, and then with your lips— if he allowed.

The chilly air subdued to the kind of unsettling heat that had your breath hitching up your throat, restless exhales eventually shaping up into becoming his name.

“Why me?” At last, the question burned its fuse. “There are plenty of women in Yoshiwara— why me?”

“Because,” the sheets to your right rustled, “you were the only one not affiliated with some Bakufu dog.”

“Is that… all?”

“That’s the reason why I chose you,” he confirmed your disappointment, “but aren’t you more curious as to why I kept coming back?”

Your cheek tilted in a cushion of sudden warmth, his palm holding the weight of your gazes together. He leaned closer, so close that you could no longer see him, but feel him. The feathery touch of his purple strands over your forehead, the leftover tobacco essence in his breath, and the shared heartbeat as it pounded in your chests. He prevailed against all senses, common and uncommon, getting the better, if not the best, of you.

“Your eyes,” you heard him say, and popped them open. “A skilled courtesan knows to orchestrate the perfect lie with body, soul, and mind, and yet, your eyes refuse to coordinate. Your distaste, your distrust, and your hatred. The true colors you think the red lights hide,” the smile rang in his voice. “You really think those are hidden from me?”

The very object of his judgment must have betrayed your surprise, considering he was the one to answer his own question.

“Relax. I don’t see beyond what you choose to reveal.”

“And what do you see now?” A shaky voice asked.

“Myself.”

His next breath stole the oxygen from yours, with his lips deliberately ghosting over your jaw in a fleeting motion that escorted him back to his pillow. Was this seduction? If so, it felt an awful lot like frustration.

“This is the second time you question my skills.”

“Does it bother you?” Shinsuke asked. “In any case, what I’m questioning isn’t your skills as a courtesan, but your nature as one.”

“I wasn’t born into it,” you admitted, knitting your fingers over your stomach. “A prostitute, a terrorist, some…. ‘Bakufu dog.’ Nobody is born into nothing. We get assigned to these roles and are expected to play them up to the final round of applause. Some are just lucky enough to fit the part.”

“Turns out I was right, after all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Those who are interesting either have one screw too loose or have suffered a great deal.”

“And what makes you think I’ve suffered?”

You didn’t expect an answer—not truly, at least. And so, you skipped over to the next question, the one whose answer itched you the most to find. “Have you suffered a lot?”

“Kind of you to exempt me from the first category,” he jested, his light-hearted chuckle barely matching the solemn expression on his face. “Most would assume a man seeking to destroy the world is bat-shit crazy.”

“Because I’ve come to know a Shinsuke, most don’t. To tell you the truth, I…” you bit your lips into a straight line and rolled to face him. He was curious enough to return the gesture, his shoulders shifting in your direction as he balanced himself on his good side.

“I’ve seen you. Way before we were acquainted, I saw you walk those very same streets with people that accompany you no longer. You were admired, and you were praised, and you— I didn’t get the chance to see your face, back then, but I know you must’ve had at least one good reason to smile, didn’t you?

“I don’t mean to pry into your past, and I won’t ask what happened between the two versions of you. But the Shinsuke who brought a lowly courtesan medicine for her sickness; the Shinsuke who told me to live as a woman rather than a puppet; the Shinsuke who in the face of death sought my company instead of a doctor’s; the Shinsuke who gave me a reason to laugh, and sing, and a reason to get out of bed and to endure all the vileness of men, and taught me there’s kindness in the night— Those versions of you are far more precious to me than any war-general or world-class terrorist I could meet.

“And I don’t mean to repeat myself, but I’d like to ask a final time. Have you suffered on your way here? Has it been hard on you?”

A pained smile was all he could muster to reply.

You sighed for him, for the man he was and the man he’d become, and for the little girl whose face still gleamed in your memory between trawlers and rows of fishing poles in her father’s shed, free of tarnish. Someone had to mourn for those and the futures they’d lost, and seeing as he was there right now, you guessed he didn’t have anyone else to do that in his stead.

“If you keep at it, you might convince me that it’s real.” He quietly mumbled.

“Is it not?”

In no time, you’d crossed over to his side, your fingers palpitating between his neck and jawline. It was as if gravity pulled you down to him, a force of attraction so great that when your eyes settled on his lips, your tongue begged to tease them apart. And when they did part, all doubt and uncertainty were negated, for this was no matter of sentiment or intentions, but of bodies coming together.

His hands spanned from your shoulders to your waist and to your thighs below, the softness of your moan meeting with the hoarseness of his groan as wetness met with firmness. He was dragging you closer by any means possible, hips joining and then thrusting in futility of his clothed cock. You opened up for him, your knee coiling around his torso as your fingers slid across his stomach, reveling in how his muscles tightened and tensed up until they gave way to a violent jolt.

“Sh-Shinsuke-san!” You immediately unraveled, your eyes searching for signs of pain in his stiffened expression. “Are you okay?”

“I thought we moved past this.” His lips curled into a grimace as he followed your stare to his bandages. They were still intact, albeit slightly wrinkled. You lowered a hand over his wound and he gulped down hard, his shaky breath contradicting the “I’m fine” he was about to utter.

But when you pulled your fingers off and attempted to return to your pillow, he refused to separate from your waist and held you even tighter, pairing your chin with his shoulder and the small of your back with both his arms. You couldn’t object, or rather, you didn’t want to object. In his embrace, you felt so small that no reason seemed big enough to leave it.

“I couldn’t care less if it isn’t,” Shinsuke whispered, circling back to his previous question. “I don’t care if you are a Yoshiwara woman, and I don’t care how many men you’ve slept with or deceived either. From this moment onward, you can lie all you want. Lie and I’ll believe, because… you are mine.”

Before you knew it, tears began welling in your eyes for a reason you could hardly define. A woman who’d spend her entire life in possession of another, a woman whose body was hardly hers, to begin with, a woman that had nothing to her name— What could such a woman aspire to give? If all parts of you were bought out, what could he possibly hope to own?

However, his words had already seeped under your skin, traversing from one ear to the other, down your spine, and up your head again, as you hesitantly came to confirm his notion with the meekest of nods.

The last thing you made of that night was the shape of his lips against your skin, along with the oath that accompanied them: Even if no part of me belongs to me, whatever fragment of my heart remains is yours to keep. Because… I am yours.

He was gone the morning after.

And the morning after that.

And the morning after the morning after that.

You counted a total of 36 mornings where he didn’t give a single sign of life. Mornings that were succeeded by insufferable noons full of idle girl talk in the balcony, and evenings where the alcohol was nearly not enough to blur out the faces of those around you. But far more intolerable than hearing the same story about some silver-haired scoundrel trying to trade pachinko balls for cash, and pretending to find joy in the way some sleazy merchant plowed you on all four, was not knowing whether Shinsuke was alive or dead.

As much as you’d like to personally dig into it, snooping around when Shinsengumi’s investigation had just been put on hold was bound to turn all eyes on your back, and if he was to ever return, you didn’t want your lack of discretion to stand in the way. Yoshiwara was treacherous enough as it was. Besides, rumor had it that the cops’ failure in capturing a mere “phantom terrorist” forced the Commissioner to cut down on police funds, along with a few heads of his incompetent men. The latter part sounded mostly fictitious, though part of you did hope that the ill-mannered cop from the other day was among those headless corpses.

In any case, it was safe to assume neither Shinsuke nor his body had been found. Whether he’d made it back to his comrades in one piece or bled out in some dark alleyway, knowing he’d escaped their clutches gave you hope. And perhaps, it was hope that brought you to the aforementioned congregations, whose main gossip topic was your house’s love affairs.

It turned out that more than half of those money-depended relationships you previously mocked were built on a much deeper basis than one would imagine. Each girl had this one patron whose talk alone made their eyes shimmer. Some carried a strand of their hair around their pinky— a promise. Others scarcely held onto their correspondence beneath their undergarments until the paper thinned. One kept an entire box devoted to memorabilia of their beloved: a handkerchief they left behind, a jade ring that was their first gift, and pictures. Far too many pictures of them.

A few months back you would have sneered at their faces, but the longer you spent in their company, the more you began feeling some sort of kinship blossom between you. To have a preference escalate to something more, was a feeling you knew all too well.

It was inevitable that by the fifth time you attended their meetings, you’d be asked about your own affairs, and when that moment came, you chuckled politely and switched the topic back to the previous speaker’s flame. So far this tactic had worked 31 out of 31 times, and while neither side shared the information the other longed to hear —in your case, news about the one that got away,— listening to them read their letters out loud had given birth to a new idea.

Now, you weren’t proficient in literature by no means, and the only letters you’d ever exchanged were based on false attraction. But if you could somehow manage to get a letter delivered and answered, your mind would be put to rest.

Your first efforts were defined by a series of smudged-up writings of his name. “Shinsuke” felt too plain a salutation and “Shinsuke-san” was sure to earn you an earful. “Takasugi,” or “Takasugi-san” came off too formal, while “My beloved” was still a matter of contemplation. Eventually, you decided that “Dear Shinsuke” which your latest attempts featured, was the right amount of personal without sounding too pretentious or unnatural.

Once you’d gotten that down, your primary concern became the letter’s main body. What on earth would you write him? The letters of those girls were heavily dosed with words of eloquent sensibility that a mere “I miss you—I’m worried about you—Please come back” could never hope to compete with. Urgency aside, you didn’t want to come off as an illiterate idiot.

You tried your hardest, crumpling one ball of paper after the other and then cringing equally as hard at what came to be the final product among an abundance of discarded drafts that littered the floor.

Dear Shinsuke,

How strange it is to have written numerous letters for my pen to only tremble now. Ink does sentiment little justice, and yet my entire heart’s contents are summed in that first salutation. Dear’s what I’ve come to call you, for dear’s what you are to me.

And so I call you dear again, twice and then thrice, while watching the sunrise. I used to hate all dawns that led to our nights’ demise, but now each dawn brings me new hope. Hope that you’re safe and in good health, for I dare not imagine you unwell. They say patience is a virtue, but how many more suns need to rise before I become virtuous? How many hollow moons until my longing settles?

The ways to express my desire are as plentiful as the stars written in the skies, and I fear, that for as long as you evade my arms’ embrace they’ll insist to multiply.

Nevertheless, I must draw the line here and convey one final thought. I’ve been pondering on words you’ve said, and have concluded that a dream’s end lies between its fulfillment and the waking of its host. Because a dream completed is no different than a goal achieved, and a dreamer’s awakening shutters all that could have been.

Am I dreaming, my dear Shinsuke? Or will my dream begin when we’re no longer apart? If I’m asleep, don’t wake me up, but if I’m awake, please hurry back.

Faithfully yours,

Your improper courtesan.

You must have folded and unfolded that last piece of paper at least a dozen times, sighing at each interval in between. This is so embarrassing, you ruminated, forehead against the table, and hands thrown over the edge in indication of surrender. An entire day went by and this was the best you could come up with. How very embarrassing; words you must have said out loud for you got an actual response.

“Didn’t know Yoshiwara women were capable of embarrassment.” The voice of a man cooed in your ear, its tone so gentle that if you hadn’t been scared out of your wits, you would have leaned back to relish it.

However, the only thing you managed was to flinch in such rapidness that caused the ink bottle to fly straight into his palm. Wide-eyed, you traced the fingers back to their owner, well aware of whom they belonged to. He looked good. He always did, but what set him apart from the last time you saw him was the significant lack of bandages. Even his damaged eye was left bare on a rare occurrence.

“You’re back!” You gasped.

“I am,” Shinsuke nodded. “Although, I can’t say I remember this place looking like a pigsty.”

You glanced around in horror at what the place you used to call your “room” had become. There were more pages on the floor than there would’ve been if you’d shredded an entire collection of encyclopedias.

“How long have you been standing there?” You asked as you attempted to sweep the papers into one big pile away from his legs.

“Long enough to realize the cause of your embarrassment.” His eye wandered toward your makeshift desk and settled on the letter upon it.

Your arms urged to cover the words from his sight, but unfortunately, he was too fast for your own good.

“This isn’t-”

“A love letter?” He smirked, waving it in the air to unfold it.

“Meant for you!” You protested.

“It has my name on.” His forefinger pointed where the title should be.

“It’s nothing important-”

“If it wasn’t, then why waste all this paper?”

“Please,” you tugged at his yukata. “don’t.”

He lowered the letter for your eyes to meet— his narrowed green orb rotating a full circle. Perhaps it was your pleading tone, or maybe the pup-like stare you were giving him. No matter the cause, he was merciful enough to fold the letter inside his yukata and take a seat beside you, his interest soon drawn by the empty bottle of sake on the table’s corner.

Normally, a girl would’ve brought a refill before a guest arrived, but as fast as you were concerned your night wasn’t booked in advance.

“Should I bring you something to drink?” You tried to change the subject.

“No need,” he shrugged, shifting the bottle between his fingers.

“Have you eaten…?”

“I have.”

Was this his way of keeping a grudge, you wondered, spotting the creased paper corner that peaked from his chest.

“Aren’t you going to read that?”

He let go of the bottle at once, head tilting in your direction. “I don’t see why I should when you don’t want me to.”

“Then why are you keeping it?”

Your question brought forth a smile to his features— one that could be considered equal parts smug as it was coy.

“To commemorate the first love letter I receive,” Shinsuke answered.

“I find it hard to believe no one’s ever written you one before,” you said, adding a second part to your sentence in case he found the first too insolent. “You seem the kind of man who receives lots of letters, is all.”

“None I wasn’t allowed to read,” he retorted. “For that, I consider yours the first.”

Allow is a heavy word, you wished to object, though he wasn’t quite wrong either.

“How are you?” You asked in a cowardly voice and then repeated again.“That’s what the letter says. ‘How are you? I’m fine.’”

“Is that all?” he chuckled. “You wrote me a letter to ask how I’m doing?”

“…And I miss you,” you sighed. “‘I miss you, I’m worried about you, please come back alive.’”

The tone of your complexion was reflected on his cheeks, as an inconspicuous red hue spread upon them. You bet he didn’t blush too often, or else he’d know to hide it. Even his smile seemed mellower than before, lacking the usual cunning sharpness.

“You talk more like a courtesan now.”

“Isn’t it time I acted like one, too?” Your hand moved on top of his own and brought it to your lips, unlocking each of his fingers with a kiss. “I want you.”

He cupped your face in his palm and dragged his thumb over your bottom lip, eyes glinting at what was about to come. “Was this also in the letter?”

“No,” you smiled. “I wanted to say this in person. I want you-”

And suddenly, you understood what being his entailed, for your lips belonged to him, along with your tongue, your breath, and all you had to give. It was all his. The neck his eager palm steadied, the silky hair his fingers carefully untangled, the soft thighs straddling him, and the visceral sounds your mouths exchanged. It was all his to take. Every part of you that once was, no longer were. Only a fervent urge left burning in its place, augmented with every little jab across your velvet skin.

His lips withdrew to your neck, arms tightening around your waist for your chest to rise up against him. You tried to untie your obi, but Shinsuke acted first, sliding your kimono well past your cleavage and attaching himself to your breasts— one at a time. His wet tongue rolled around your nipples, sucking them into hardness, while his eye focused solely on your expressions.

You bit your agape mouth shut, gulping the heaviest of breathings down as his hand crossed between your legs to find the spot that begged for him the most. He circled his thumb over your clit in a way that was awfully similar to how he’d held your lips. He moved it languidly and continuously, again and then all over again until a needy moan was coaxed. And when that happened, he kept on going, ignoring the strain in his fundoshi, and persisting until his face was squeezed between your heaving breasts. He remained kissing them and kissing you down from your high, the final of his tender kisses landing upon your fiery cheeks.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

For a minute, you failed to register what he meant, though when you did, neither had the chance at a chuckle as you fell back onto each other. Insatiable fingers freed him from his obi, exposing his body to your touch. He laid back against his elbows, a hint of surprise widening his eye as you planted your lips on his chest and licked your way around his nipples. You sucked one of them in, gently pinching the other with your thumb and forefinger. Does it feel good, you meant to ask, but seeing as his head arched backward, it was safe to assume he savored this no less than you did.

Your mouth drifted to his stomach, hands pushing the fabric aside only to stop at the first of a series of mismatched patches. He could’ve gotten himself a new yukata, and yet he wore the one you’d fixed him with equal pride.

Fawning over the notion, you didn’t notice him turn the tables on you, just like he didn’t notice his knee nudging the table down, the ink bottle he’d tried so hard to salvage cracking into a pool of ebony black across the tatami your head laid upon. He brushed all hair off your face and stared at you for a good while, his gaze almost pious. You wondered what he thought of— if he thought about anything at all, and what he saw— if he saw anything worth seeing in that impressionable face of yours, though soon, you grew too preoccupied with his actions to care about his thoughts.

He claimed your hand and pushed it above your head, locking his fingers together with yours. His arm felt heavy; not as heavy as his hips and certainly not as heavy as the bundle of nerves in the pit of your stomach, but still, heavy enough to restrain you. It was time. Your knees bent back to your stomach, allowing him to align with your entrance. And when he pushed himself in, gods, he was still looking deep within your eyes, at the soul, you doubted existed. He watched it darken and twist in pleasure that you shared, and if someone asked what he did so differently from all others, you wouldn’t dare to voice that four-letter word at loud.

The difference was never in his thrusts or the way he kissed, so full of ecstasy and life. The difference lay in how he made everything burn brighter and blur murkier at the same time, in how he was capable of anchoring you, as he was in making you soar. Because the answer and the question were both him and if that imaginary, indiscreet stranger pried for more, you’d decided to name this your first time, too.

“If someone walked in right now, they wouldn’t be able to tell the courtesan and the guest apart.”

“If someone walked in right now, they’d be lucky if a courtesan and a guest were all they saw.”

One’s words accompanied a dull trail of smoke and the other’s a vibrant melody, with the first pouring out your lips and the second from his fingers. One sat with their knees apart, and the other lay on their back. One was naked from the waist up, and the other completely bare. One focused on the other, and the other focused on their song, both sharing the same complacent smile on their lips.

“You seem awfully fond of my pipe,” said Shinsuke, strumming one string after the other, while you drew short and frequent puffs.

“My father had a kiseru just like this one,” you exhaled, shifting the pipe between your knuckles. “He loved himself a good smoke after dinner. Called it ‘the last instance of affordable freedom in this shit world.’ Ma’ had different ideas. To put it short, she hated it. Opened all windows and fanned the smoke out as if the house was on fire.

“I remember how, once, sis stole the kiseru from his jacket and we took a puff each, not fully grasping what it was. It was horrible, that’s what it was,” a chuckle broke through your words. “But not as horrible as Mother’s shrieks when she found us puking our guts out on the kitchen floor. She’d made us swear we’d never touch tobacco again, and we took the oath without second-guessing.”

“And here you are breaking it,” he sneered.

“Madam’s the same way,” you went past his interruption. “She hates it when Boss smokes and nags him every chance she gets, even though she was the one who taught us how to handle it, should a guest ask us to indulge. One of the many must-knows of the job,” you explained, closing your fingers over the pipe’s neck. “You’re right. I really am fond of this. Maybe because it’s yours. Maybe because it tastes like you.”

His lips curved into a slight smile, his eye never stirring away from the instrument on his lap. “Keep it. I have no grand memories to back my habit up.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Take it,” he insisted. “See it as an addition to your stories, or just something to remember me by.”

“You talk as if you won’t be coming back…”

“‘Increased chances of sudden death’ and ‘low life expectancy’ are both in the job description,” he shrugged. “Who knows when my time to kick the bucket will come? We might not get a chance at goodbye then”

“That’s not fair,” you said in a quiet voice full of complaint, gaze lowering along with the music’s tempo. “Haven’t enough died already?” Haven’t I lost enough already? “Why should you die too?” Why should I lose you too?

“You aren’t wrong. Certainly, more than enough have died to incriminate the Bakufu, but not quite as many shoguns have perished to atone for that sin. I intend to force a draw on the scale. Ten shoguns for each of my fallen soldiers, until no man’s left to step in the ringleader’s shoes. That should be enough to justify their sacrifice, don’t you think? As for me,” his smile turned into a sinister grin while saying those words. “I don’t wish to die in a world where the last instance of affordable freedom is tobacco.”

The lump in your throat began to dissipate with your settling back against the pillow. You knew better than to trust a single word that came out of your guests’ mouths, but his determination convinced you to accept the pipe with a clear conscience.

The music resumed —not that it’d ever stopped—, a tune sweeter than those you were used to. With your chin balanced on your elbow, you found yourself humming in accordance with the notes, nodding along to the mellifluous rhythm he composed.

“This sounds nice,” you smiled once you had his attention. “What is it?”

“Who knows?” He humored you, knowingly triggering your favorite pastime of lyrical guesswork.

“Hmm, it’s soft— like affection, but,” you leaned closer “the way each chord lingers well before giving way to another, is almost like seduction.”

“Are you, now?” He rasped, fingers hesitating to pick the next harmony. “Seduced?”

You stole a playful peck from his lips as an answer, his eye barely given enough time to close.

“Who knows?” you mumbled, his mouth quick to welcome yours with ease. How many kisses had you shared to reach this point of familiarity; a fleeting thought crossed your mind. How many kisses did it take for this to feel like the most natural and right thing in the world?

Even as you straddled his lap, Shinsuke still held onto the shamisen, its tuning pegs sharply digging into your flesh. If this turned anything like the previous night —or the one before— did, he’d soon shove it in the corner and pick you up instead. He’d trail the entirety of your skin, from your neck down to your thighs, peppering little purple love bites wherever he saw fit. He’d throw your knees over his shoulders and he’d drink you up, his tongue prying where his eye couldn’t, and once he was sated, he’d lace your bodies together and pace slowly— slowly enough for your hips to melt together while he’d again be kissing your lips.

You knew exactly how it’d go, for you’d learned his preferences by heart, and yet your excitement refused to fizzle out. You shoved the instrument away from his reach, implementing an abrupt and rather rude ending to his concert. His hands slithered behind your back and firmly hugged your bum. It hadn’t been too long since he had his release, though you could very well feel the extent of his impatience.

“I can’t get enough of you,” one of you said, their voice obscured by the not-so-distant knocking on the door.

Cursing under your breath about how one of these days you’d have to rip it into paper shreds, you stumbled outside, your head peaking first over your naked body, in case you had company. All seemed clear, except for the unannounced visitor that awaited at your feet; a large rectangular wooden box.

“I see it finally arrived,” Shinsuke observed once you brought it to his sight. “About time.”

“Is it an explosive device of some sort?” you joked, lightly shaking the box.

“No,” he smirked. “Only a token of my gratitude. Go on, open it.”

A thin layer of wrapping paper covered what was a dark purple fabric. Silk, you realized as you ran your fingers across its length. A kimono, judging by the lighter-colored cuffs. An exquisite kimono, you added, its elegant pattern of pine, bamboo, and plum trees in gold taking you by surprise. An exquisite kimono in his colors, you concluded, comparing it to the yukata he donned.

“This…” you began, though your stupefied expression seemed to have spoken on its own.

“Save it,” he shook his head. “This is just compensation for your ruined dress and your hospitality. Was supposed to arrive weeks ago, but now that it’s here… turn around.”

He pulled the kimono out of the paper and you did as told, setting the box aside. You felt him get closer, his hot breath tingling your nape as the cold sensation of silk spread over your shoulders. His hands flattened it over your curves, sliding down your waist and hips, and then reaching to your front to fix the hem in place. You couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose, but when his knuckles ghosted over your nipples, you knew his objective involved more than dressing you up.

“Out of all the men to have stepped in here,” you said as he fished out a yellow obi from the box’s depths “you are the first to dress me rather than undress me.”

At first, he didn’t respond. He proceeded to wrap the obi around you, and once it was securely tied, his voice cooed in your ear “Since when were the two mutually exclusive?”

Your gaze met his briefly, as his lips fell on your own and his hands hiked up your dress. Two fingers slipped within your walls, massaging your insides gently while you brought each other to your knees, his palm carefully sinking your head onto the floor. Your heart beat louder than his voice telling you how well it suited you, though you didn’t need to hear it. His touch said all you need to know, sturdy hips lazily bucking against your own.

“Sh-Shinsuke?” you managed, removing his hand from your body. A darkened green orb peered at you curiously, lust not quite shaken from his stare.

“Have you ever been in love?” you regretted asking as soon as you did.

His curiosity turned into something else, something he can’t explain, just like he can’t give an answer to your question. He almost looked offended and you almost apologized, but then he hushed you with a heady kiss that had your head spinning.

“How does this feel?” he asked, well aware of the effect he had on you.

“G—good,” you panted.

He nodded, carefully dragging his open mouth along your jawline and neck where a second, far more fleeting kiss landed exactly where your breasts began.

“How does this feel?” he asked again.

“Good,” you answered, again with the same elementary term you used before.

His winsome smile hid underneath purple layers of hair, as he lowered his head down between your legs and spread them apart. He trailed a path from one thigh to the other, his lips not once closing to cover his warm breath. His fingers dug at your skin while he pulled you closer, the tip of his nose rubbing against your swollen clit that ached for him to touch it. But before he had the chance to either make contact or ask the final of his questions, you moaned the same word you did before.

It feels good. So, so, so damn good.

“Then,” Shinsuke climbed back up, “let’s call this love.”

[lilac-5ky]

🎁 Christmas with Takasugi and your daughter (x Fem!Reader) 🎄

A/N: Not gonna lie. I'm not that big into X-mas, BUT if I ever got to spend my ideal Christmas holiday with someone, then that would definitely be with Shinsuke. Considering how I don't see him as a Christmas lover either (and after some encouragement COUGH COUGH) I decided to write this! Yes, it was gonna be headcanons and yes, it became a whole ass fanfic, and yes, it will have a final part 2 that miiiiiiight come a bit late, depending on how the holiday season goes for me. Enjoy!

Plot: Shinsuke decides to come home for Christmas to spend time with you and your daughter.

Warnings: Fluff overload, but there will be smut! Not in this one, sadge, BUT THERE'S STILL NSFW CONTENT AHEAD.

(yes, i'm upping the festivity of this)

It’s no secret that the commander of the Kiheitai is a busy man. With his mind set on tearing the world into shreds and his hands full of warfare tactics, you wouldn’t expect him to care about the season of joy and love. And he really doesn’t if we are being honest, but it’s been so long since he last got to see you.

The nature of his “occupation” keeps sending him from one side of the universe to the other, and considering how he’s barely gotten the chance to meet his own daughter, he thought it’d be fine to let Bansai take the wheel for once. (Totally not because Matako and the rest tried to force him into their Secret Santa Instrumentality Project.)

And so, one day, he showed up at your doorstep uninvited, with nothing but a smirk to grace his face. He thought of how happy you’d be to see him. Of how eager you’d be to toss your arms around his neck, peppering him whole in kisses. Of course he’d act disturbed, and of course he’d call you a nuisance, in spite of secretly loving every minute of it.

God, he’d missed you. Edo might not be his home anymore, but his forever home would always be with you.

However, when the door finally opened, he had a hard time believing his eyes, to the point of wondering whether he’d somehow gotten the wrong house. A tiny little gremlin sprung forth, attaching its tiny little gremlin hands around his leg, all the while chanting the word “Daddy” until he came to the realization that this gremlin looking creature was none other than his very spawn. His daughter.

“Oi, gremlin!” He warned, gently shaking her by her shoulders. “Stop it!”

“Kimiko isn’t a gremlin, Kimiko is Kimiko!” She protested, clinging to him harder.

“Fine.” He sighed. “Let go, Kimiko.”

At the sound of her name, the girl paused to show him her widest grin, and then proceeded to squeal against his leg.

What had he ever done to deserve this? Not that a certain heated pre-battle night didn’t come in mind. He shouldn’t have gotten carried away that night, and he shouldn’t have let you take on this responsibility all by yourself. No matter how one looked at it, he was all to blame.

“Gremlin is a bit too harsh even for you, Shinsuke.” You chuckled, emerging from behind the frame.

“Y/N.” Your name came out of his lips so naturally, as if it’d never left.

You smiled, and for a moment, he seemed to forget all about the child dangling from his yukata. It was just the two of you, silently sharing a conversation you’d missed on.

“You look good,” to which you’d reply with a “Not as well as you do.” He’d smile and you’d smile back, and then you’d say the words he had a hard time returning.

“I missed you too.”

“Y/N!” The urgency in his voice made you snap out of your thoughts.

“How about we give your father a breather?” You suggested, lifting Kimiko away from a significantly more relieved Shinsuke.

He wasn’t lying about not being able to stand children. Even after she was gone, he remained frozen in place, blending perfectly with the snowy backdrop.

“Did you come all this way to turn into an icicle?” You taunted, gesturing towards the door.

“Come on in, don’t let the house freeze too!”

Takasugi looked at Kimiko, the doorstep and you. He weighed in his choices, tempted to end his visit right then and there. But when it came down to disappointing you both; when he could perfectly imagine what those little eyes would look all welled up, he simply sighed and stepped in.

You could count the amount of times he’d entered this place with one hand, and while not much had changed -other than the festive decoration-, the same couldn’t be said about Kimiko. Last time he saw her, she barely tied syllables together, and now she wouldn’t quit asking about her father. She’d grown to idolize the “samurai father who was busy fighting the bad space guys and protecting the world”, though she didn’t know the first thing of what his job actually entailed.

She was a curious child who needed answers, and world-class terrorism wasn’t the easiest topic to discuss with someone her age. Besides, you had to make her understand that he hadn’t abandoned her because he didn’t love her. It was merely the price he had to pay for his ambitions and for your safety.

As if she read your thoughts, Kimiko leaned into your ear to whisper “Papa is pretty. Can I marry papa, mommy?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her suggestion. With her dark purple hair and sparkling emerald eyes, she was the spitting image of him, yet their personalities couldn’t be any further apart. To think that even she wasn’t immune to his charms was beyond entertaining.

“If you get him to say yes, then go ahead, sweetie.” You said, softly combing her hair behind her ear.

“What are you two plotting?” Takasugi said in the same whispering tone.

“Nothing. Just… looks like your fan count increased by one.” You jested, leading both him and Kimiko into the kitchen.

You caught him lazily browsing the space, his eye stopping at the Christmas tree in the middle of the living room. He looked at it as if it were a foreign object, and maybe to him who’d never properly experience Christmas before, that it was.

“I didn’t expect you to return to Edo.” You said, drawing his attention.

“I didn’t expect to return either.” He shrugged and took his haori off. “It was a last minute decision.”

You extended a hand in his direction, asking for the jacket. “I’m glad you did. I’m glad you came.”

Before you could retrieve your hand, a set of fingers came to hold you in place. His thumb brushed over your skin, tenderly pressing down against your knuckles as if he meant to return the sentiment.

“Mommy, can you put me down now?” Kimiko tugged at your sleeve.

Breaking away from his touch, you placed her onto the floor and hastily turned the other way. Such innocent touch was all it took to turn your cheeks a slight, albeit noticeable shade of red that you hoped to conceal. You had the nerve to judge Kimiko when you were the one acting like a flustered schoolgirl. How embarrassing.

“Should I get you anything, Shinsuke?” You asked, dashing to the kitchen.

He answered you with a dry cough, one that you knew what meant, though as luck would have it, you wouldn’t be able to oblige to his demand.

“Anything else?”

“Tea?”

You ducked under a cabinet, easily spotting the tea box. Correction; the empty tea box.

“Anything else?” Your voice faltered.

“Sake, then?”

“This early?” You objected, but went ahead just in case.

Again, none.

“Anything else-”

“Just some water.” He said, dragging a chair to sit on.

“I’m sorry,” you brought out a glass and filled it to the brim. “Had I known you’d come, I would have restocked.”

You slid the glass across the table and he caught it halfway. “That would destroy the surprise.”

“I thought you enjoyed destruction.”

He smirked, shaking his head and then brought the water to his lips. “Not wrong.”

“Destruction?” Kimiko repeated wide-eyed. “Will papa destroy home?”

“Where did that come from?” Takasugi asked. “And stop calling me that!”

“If papa is not papa then what should I call him?” She insisted, propping her elbows onto the table beside him. “Papi? Or pa? Or daddy? Or fa-”

“Shinsuke is fine, you little pest.” He grunted.

“Kimiko isn’t a pest. Kimiko is Kimiko.”

Takasugi sighed in despair. “Why would you let Zura babysit her?”

“He offered!” You said in between laughing. “Besides, Kimiko loves uncle Zura.”

“Uncle Zura says his name isn’t Uncle Zura, but uncle Katsura.”

“Uncle Zura-I mean, Zura shouldn’t be corrupting the youth like that.”

You were about to bring a certain hot-headed blonde up, when a warning look took the words out of your mouth. He didn’t even try to hide his annoyance, but you could only enjoy this little back and forth between them. Somehow, you had a feeling they’d get along just fine.

“While you’re busy arguing over names, why don’t I pop to Edo Mart real quick for some groceries?” Panic set in his stare the second you finished your sentence. “I’ll bring some yakult too!” You added.

Takasugi inhaled and then exhaled sharply, rubbing his eyebrows together. You hadn’t seen him this distressed since that time Sakamoto dropped Pokari on his bed and Gintoki claimed that he’d pissed himself in his sleep- a joke that resulted to the scolding of the one and the head bonking of the other.

Was it really a good idea to let him alone with Kimiko? Perhaps it was too early. Perhaps he needed some more time to get accustomed to her lively personality and childish antiques.

“Go.” A hoarse command interrupted your thoughts as Takasugi lifted his head. The bandages were slightly undone and his one good eye had a tiresome aspect to it, but he seemed confident enough to repeat himself.

“Don’t worry, I’ll manage. Just go.”

You nodded, simultaneously apologizing and wishing him good luck . He scowled and sighed again, and you couldn’t really blame him. He might have lived a life fuller than most, but when it came down to children he had about zero experience.

You knew that back then. You knew that after Shouyou died, he’d made his decision, and no woman or child would ever tie him down. You knew that if you went through with this pregnancy, you’d be completely on your own, and still, you couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away.

It was his. A part of him that grew within you. A part of him that he couldn’t take away; that wouldn’t leave you like he did. This child could never replace him, though in his absence, this little child who had his eyes, his hair, his lips, and even his nose, became your everything. It gave you reason to live; love to give; hope to await for a return that may never come.

You’d never get to be a real family, yet seeing them sit by side, felt as if a fraction of your wishes had been granted. Perhaps Christmas really was the season of miracles.

Taking a final look at them— Kimiko gleefully jumping up and down her chair, and Takasugi attempting to sit her down—, you felt enough warmth to last you through the wintry breeze outside.

“Welcome Home, Shinsuke.”

In the not-so-short-while that you were gone, Takasugi came to the realization that getting a hyperactive child to calm down required the same-if not more- effort than running an entire organization did. He wondered how you were able to live like this, and the moment he did, a sliver of guilt crawled up his spine. Thirty minutes could not compensate for five years of nearly total absence.

After Kimiko had finally simmered down and retreated to the living room with a notebook in hand, he was free to spend his time however he pleased, though he wasn’t too sure of what to do. This was the first real “vacation” he’d taken, and as far as he was concerned, his options were quite limited.

He’d neglected to bring a good read or his shamisen with him. Smoking was also out of the question, and so, the last bit of available entertainment were the saccharine Christmas specials on TV. Happy families here, cheery carols there. Towers of colorfully wrapped presents and public festivities on every news channel. There really was no escaping this despicable commercial holiday.

“Oi, gremlin.” Takasugi said, dropping the remote onto the coffee table. “What are you scribbling there?”

Without lifting her eyes from the page, the girl insisted to drag her pen across the paper. “Kimiko is not a gremlin. Kimiko is Kimiko.”

“What about pest?” He smirked, folding his arms over his chest.

“Kimiko is not a pest. Kimiko is Kimiko.” She scooted away from him.

“Brat.”

“Kimiko is not a brat. Kimiko is Kimiko.”

Takasugi clicked his tongue against his mouth’s roof and arched a brow. Purple hair, green eyes. It was almost as if he were starring at a mirror, and he could hardly find fault in that. The only name that passed through his mind was “shrimp”, but the memory that accompanied it made him instantly cringe away.

“Urchin.” He tried again.

“Kimiko is not an urchin. Kimiko is Kimiko.”

“You even know what an urchin is?”

No answer.

Balancing his chin onto his elbow, he moved in closer and she pulled further away. Her lips curled downwards and his curved upwards, shaping a frown on her face and a smile on his. She did her best to ignore him and he tried his hardest to earn a reaction for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint, or rather, hated to admit.

Tilting his head, he uttered in a hushed tone “Don’t tell me you’d rather I called you princess.”

His words sparkled like fireworks in her eyes, painting an expression of awe upon her features. She was tempted to cave in and look his way, though in the end, she shook her head again and went back to writing.

“I don’t want to be a princess.”

His interest was piqued. “Then is there something else you want to be?”

Kimiko slammed her pen down firmly, those firework-like effects returning to her green orbs. “Samurai. I want to be a samurai.”

“A samurai…” Takasugi repeated, unsure of whether to feel pride or sorrow. “You have better odds becoming a princess than a samurai in this world.”

“But papa is a samurai. If papa is one, then I should also become one!” She sounded absolute.

“Why should you? Being a samurai is no game.”

“Because samurai are strong! If Kimiko becomes strong like you, then Kimiko can help you beat all the bad guys and we’ll never be apart again!” She declared.

To say he was baffled was an understatement. This kid… this little kid whom he’d left behind. This kid who was no taller than a daikon. This kid who had every reason in the world to raise its puny fists against him, but who instead wanted to fight for his sake. The sentiment he felt for this kid began to surpass guilt.

“Kimiko-”

“Here!” She interrupted, shoving the paper in his face. The headline read “Dear Santa” in smudged letters, with more smudges and doodles following below. “This is my wish to Santa.”

He accepted the letter, unsure of what to expect. The last time he’d written a letter himself was more of an attempt to trap and expose his old man, than to ask for a gift -although that Lego Yamato battleship did look enticing. The result was the end of yet another feeble childhood dream, and one more grudge to hold against his father.

“There’s no such thing as-” Takasugi bit his tongue before he could finish that sentence.

“‘Dear Santa, I’m sowwy-’” He picked the pen up and immediately corrected her misspelling. “‘I’m sorry, but I want my previous wish canceled’.” You can’t cancel a wish, he mumbled under his breath. “‘Papa is home. You don’t have to send elves to adultnap-’” Adultnap? “ ‘him anymore. All I want for Christmas is to become a super cool samurai, just like him. P.S. If it’s not many’ ” He crossed over the word ‘many’ and replaced it with ‘a lot’.

“If it’s not a lot to ask, I also want to marry papa and live with him for-’ ” A shriek pierced through his ears as Kimiko yanked the letter out of his hands. Crumbling it into a ball, she hid it under her pillow, making sure he wouldn’t be able to retrieve it.

He looked at her, half impressed by her reflexes, and half flustered by what she’d written in that final sentence. It was the most nonsensical thing he’d ever read in his entire lifetime, yet at the same time he felt this inexplicable warmth enveloping his heart.

“I’m sorry!” Her muffled voice escaped her palms as she stubbornly refused to let him see her face. “Don’t tell Santa I’ve been bad, I don’t want to die!”

“Die?” Takasugi laughed. “Is that what you think happens to naughty children?”

“Uncle Gin said Santa throws bad children in the oven and makes them into coal.”

Why wasn’t he surprised in the slightest that this idiot was behind this?

“Kimiko, from now on, don’t listen to this shithead-to uncle Gintoki.” He gritted his teeth. “Bad children aren’t made into coal.”

A curious eye peaked at him, seeking confirmation in his words. Takasugi nodded, his lips stretching to an affectionate smile. She was cute, was his first thought. More than cute, she was adorable, was his second thought, and without quite realizing it he reached forward, resting a palm against her head. How many silly misconceptions could fit in such small head?

“Nothing will happen to you.” He said, gently stroking her hair in a circular motion. “Even if you break a few rules or misbehave a little, no one will ever harm you.”

“You promise?” She asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

“I promise.” He assured, lightly messing her hair up with one final pat. "Just remember; don’t trust bad men, especially the silver haired kind. Or else…”

“Or else?” Kimiko flinched.

“Let’s not find out, mhm?”

She nodded frantically and he felt a weight dropping off his shoulders. Here’s to another reason for Gintoki to pay up.

“Papa? What about Santa?”

“Hmm?”

“Is Santa also a bad man?”

“Santa…” As much as he’d love to call out the entire Santa business for the fraud it was, he couldn’t bring himself to shatter her dreams. “He isn’t, but that doesn’t mean you should rely on him for everything. If you want to be stronger, then fight till you can move boulders, and if you want to marry me, then you should be brave enough to say it yourself. Wishes mean nothing without effort.”

“If Kimiko does that, will papa marry Kimiko?” His words went completely over her head. The only thing she seemed to care about was becoming his bride.

When he didn’t answer, she tugged onto his sleeve, and when he didn’t react, she attempted to lace her hands around his waist. She felt warm, he noted. She smelled nice too, her subtle scent reminding him of you.

A memory flashed before his closed eye, a happy one amidst the sea of broken ones. In it, you were the one hugging him, gripping him so tightly as to lock him in place. You said it was for good luck. That as long as he memorized your body’s heat on his own, then he’d eventually make it back to you and wouldn’t die out there in the cold.

You always came up with the dumbest of excuses to shower him with affection, but he remembered himself embracing you back. He remembered the smell of your clothes. The silky feel of your hair as he ran his fingers through your lengthy strands, and finally, the sort of warmth that had him spewing promises he’d no way of guaranteeing.

“You have a long way to go before you win over my heart… little samurai.” He mumbled against his daughter’s forehead, holding her as close to him as he’d once held you.

Was it really okay to call her that? Was it okay to spur her on? He couldn’t care any less. In that moment, he only wished to reassure her of her dreams, no matter how feeble or childish they might be, and in that moment he knew exactly what to do.

By the time you made it back home, the sun had set for good, leaving the skies with a faint purple aftertaste. It was a quiet night. Mute figures faded within the snowy blanket, their footsteps vanishing with them. Some walked in groups, others in pairs. Some you recognized as neighbors, and others you were seeing for the first time.

A woman in a yellow colored kimono attempted to warm her palms up. She rubbed them together and blew heat into them, her breath forming a mist. A man -her husband- caught onto that. He took her hands in his and placed them inside the pockets of his coat. The woman smiled and the man held her close.

Then they left.

A young boy hopped around like a fox in the snow. He hurled snowballs at a lanky man who was on the phone, too caught up in his work affairs to take notice. The boy insisted, until a throw knocked the phone onto the ground. The man looked down, opened his mouth and with a sigh, he kneeled beside the boy-his son. You thought he was about to give him an earful, but when he built a fist of snow in his hand, you knew you had misjudged him.

The two played for a good five minutes, and then, they too left.

You always felt envious of those passersby. They had a hand to hold onto; a shoulder to lean on; a person to call their own. They had a place to go to and someone to go with them. Watching them reminded you of your own loneliness, yet for the first time in a while, you weren’t jealous. You had a place to go, and someone to wait for you. Someone you’d waited for in so long. Your own person, whose hand you were dying to hold.

The groceries pranced left and right with each step. As promised, you’d bought him a multipack of his beloved beverage, along with some Christmas delicacies and a little something to keep him warm through his visit; a woolen scarf.

Takasugi was never the type to dress for the weather. He merely draped his haori over his shoulders when it was cold, and called it a day. He seemed to forget that he was just as human as you were. One capable of catching colds and falling ill. Even if you begged him to, he’d refuse to cover up, but perhaps a gift would do the trick.

Just the thought of being the one to wrap it around his neck was enough to make you squeal. He’d look so dashing wearing it, and if Kimiko was asleep, then you could use the scarf as excuse to steal a kiss from his lips. Or two. Or maybe more than that. On second thought, you’d definitely make sure she was fast asleep before handing him his present.

You were about to twist the key in the keyhole, when a high-pitched shriek pierced through your ears. Startled, you turned around. No one stood there. It was your imagination you decided and tried again, only to be stopped by another, equally familiar clamor. You knew that voice very well, and until your eyes could confirm it wasn’t hers, a million horrifying scenarios trampled your head.

Burglars? Or Oniwaban? Or Naraku? Or… those pirates he’d dealings with? Takasugi had many enemies. It wouldn’t be far fetched for him to draw unwanted attention, but then again he was more than capable of defending himself. Kimiko was safe with him. There was no way he’d put her in harm’s way. He’d protect her at all costs, against all odds. She is safe.

This put your mind at ease, though it wasn’t enough to prevent you from bursting through that door and into the living room.

“Getsuga Tenshou!” Words refined the shrieks, whose meaning you failed to comprehend.

“I told you, samurai don’t yell their attacks!” A voice that belonged to Takasugi answered.

In relief, you dropped the bags onto the floor. You did expect to find a battlefield, albeit one of a different kind. Kimiko holding a wooden spatula as sword and Takasugi a whisk certainly didn’t fit in with any of your imaginary scenarios. All furniture was moved to the side, creating a makeshift arena for their “duel”.

The girl charged forward, waving the spatula as if she were carrying a war banner. She ran to him and he stepped to the side, making her land on all fours. A curtain of violet draped over her face as she lifted her chin. With a huff she blew it out of her eyes, and undeterred, she jumped at him again, this time swinging the spatula to the left.

“Fire Punch!”

“You aren’t even using your fists.” He observed in a quiet tone, dodging yet again.

“Kamehama! Dragon Fist! Spirit Bomb!” Up and down. Left and Right. She followed one move after another, thrashing and swirling until she ran into the wall that was his palm.

“Kimiko!” Takasugi exhaled.

“Rasengan!” She growled and rammed her forehead onto his palm, hoping to throw him off, though he wouldn’t budge.

“Oi!”

This entire scene felt awfully familiar. Takasugi teaching others to wield a sword, them getting everything wrong and his patience wearing thin halfway through class. None of it was new. However, something about him playing around with kitchen utensils and lightly crouching to match Kimiko’s height, painted an image you’d never dreamt of witnessing.

It was an endearing sight, and before you knew it, you were laughing to your heart’s content, catching them both unawares.

“Mommy!” A small hand waved at you, gesture which you returned.

“I see you are having fun!”

“Doubt beast taming can be considered as such.” Takasugi scoffed, earning himself a strike to his knee. Or more like an attempt at a strike, one that he easily blocked without even looking.

“Papa has eyes everywhere.”

He smirked, his grasp turned into an affectionate caress across her scalp. “What did we agree on?”

“Apologies, commander general papa.” Kimiko said in a formal voice that made his eye avert back.

He let go of her, and then walked in your direction, the whisk still in his hand. He pointed at the groceries with it, poking through the bags.

“Did you get it?”

“Right here!” You exclaimed, showing him his yakult with a cheery expression.

He tore through the packaging and brought a bottle out. You smiled at his impatience, a smile you kept to yourself as you paced to the kitchen. He followed, and the two of you settled against the counter where you could watch Kimiko swing the spatula at her invisible opponents, repeating the movements he taught her along with words no one knew the meaning of.

“What do you think?” You were the first to break the silence.

“I think she’s trouble.” Takasugi hid his smirk with a sip. “Not the bad kind though.”

“She wants to be like you.”

“She wouldn’t want that if she knew the truth.” His comment was bitter, though it lacked tension. “Why did you lie? She’s convinced I’m some world class hero that goes around protecting the universe.”

“Are you not?” You chuckled awkwardly.

He studied your expression and took another sip. “Depends on whose side you’re on.”

“I’m on your side.” You assured. “Always.”

Takasugi set his half empty drink to the side. There was something that he wanted to say, though he wasn’t quite ready to phrase it. Instead he watched you watch Kimiko, and smiled to himself.

“I can’t believe we made this.” He mumbled in disbelief.

“We could always make one more just to be sure.”You blurted and he shot you a questionable glare. “I didn’t-”

“One is enough.” He interrupted, tilting his head so close that your faces were inches apart. “But I don’t mind repeating the process.”

Your lips parted in awe, tempting him to null the distance. His hand trailed down your own, slender fingers stilling you against the counter, as he came to be the only thing in sight. The sublime features of his face, the darkened look in his eye, and inevitably, his lips. Lips that he licked painfully slow, drawing air directly from your mouth.

You were one phone call away from begging Zura to assume nanny duty, just so you could jump this man’s bones right then and there. Takasugi smirked, seemingly sharing the exact same thought. You were both deprived of one another, so much that you didn’t think twice before squeezing your eyes shut and pouting your lips for him to kiss. He leaned forward, his touch ghosting over your skin and then disappearing all at once.

“Bakasugi.” You cursed under your breath and he grinned.

“I don’t want to start something I won’t be able to finish.” Takasugi nodded in Kimiko’s direction.

He was right. This was neither the time nor place for you to be doing that, but then again why did he have to lead you on? Why did he have to be so damn attractive that you lost all common sense? Why was everything he did so damn attractive? From how he played children’s games with Kimiko to how he’d caged you in between his arms- even the way he drunk his stupid yakult was utterly attractive.

“You are right.” He said, catching you by surprise. “I must have been an idiot.”

Before you had the chance to ask what he implied, a shattering sound echoed in the background. You both turned around, finding a floor full of broken vase pieces, and a guilt stricken Kimiko crawling away from the crime scene. Simultaneously you sighed, Takasugi going after her, and you scouring the area for the dustpan.

“Everything okay?”

Your question was answered in the form of a long drawn nod, as Takasugi closed the bedroom door behind him. His expression was weary and his steps heavy, though he didn’t appear as frustrated as one would expect.

To say he gave Kimiko a scolding was both an over and understatement. He called her out on being a klutz and wreaking havoc in the house, but the minute she shed a couple of tears, all charges were dropped. He huffed once or twice, shook his head dismissively, and with a quiet voice, he ushered her to be more careful. To top it off, he even followed her into her room, agreeing to be the one who puts her to sleep.

Thirty whole minutes had passed since, and if it weren’t for his return, you would have interrupted your night routine to search for him.

“She wouldn’t sleep unless I told her a bedtime story.” Takasugi said, crossing his arms over his chest.

The reflection in the mirror remained static. Only his stare motioned through the room, eventually settling on your figure. He watched you comb your hair, absolutely mesmerized by how perfectly they hugged your silhouette. Envious he wasn’t the one doing that. His eye traced the outline of your shoulders, following your nightgown’s length down each and every curve, vividly imagining what your skin looked free of all this pointless fabric.

“And you did?” He looked you in the eye and nodded again.

“Which one?”

“Princess Kaguya.”

“Ah, that’s her all-time favorite!” You combed through your hair a final time and got up from your dresser. “How many times did she make you read it?”

“Thrice.”

“What I wouldn’t give to see that.” You chuckled. “Who would have thought the legendary Takasugi Shinsuke had what it takes to become a great father?”

Pride glinted in his eye as he quirked a brow. “Great?”

“Amazing, even!” You assured. “Watching you coddle her like that, playing games, telling stories, scolding her too. I have to admit, it’s… quiet sexy.”

First he scoffed, then he chuckled, and then he huffed some more. You smiled. He wasn’t used to compliments, let alone the kind that didn’t refer to his battle prowess or his leadership qualities. To those he fought with, Takasugi was a valued comrade, and to those he fought against, a formidable enemy. But to you who were a woman and had sided with him in ways no man ever would, his ability to handle a sword was the least of his charms.

With that smile lingering on your lips, you moved towards the closet to fetch his gift. It was just the two of you now. The moment was right.

“Time’s turned you bolder.” He sneered.

“Is that all?” You chuckled, digging through rows of clothing.

Got it!

“No.” His voice echoed right behind. “You’ve grown much prettier than I remember.”

As soon as you turned to face him, his lips claimed yours, stealing his name right from within. You gasped wide-eyed, the fabric falling between your grasp and his. He pulled you close, your noses poking as he tipped his head to the left. He was kissing you. It took a few seconds to register, but he was definitely kissing you and you were definitely kissing him back, tilting your head to match his rhythm.

Hands traveled up his shoulders and neck, the woolen scarf replaced by the silky hem of his yukata. He locked his arms around your waist, your touch encouraging him to tighten his embrace until he was no longer pinning you down, but lifting you up in the air. You yelped, a shrill, unbecoming sound that had him smiling against your mouth.

“The prettiest woman alive.” His velvety whisper faded past the softness of his lips.

With your limbs seeking balance ‘round his nape and torso, you found yourself towering him, stray strands of hair trickling down his face. You tried blowing it away, but he had no intention of letting you part from him. Instead, he lowered both palms to your butt and squeezed at your thighs, itching to tear the rosy fabric off your skin.

“Sh-Shinsuke,” you called his name out while he rubbed your bodies together, his hardened muscles pressed against your crotch. You could tell how much he’d longed for this, even his breath turning heavy the second your lower parts came into contact.

Without wasting more time, Takasugi spun you around and laid you down the unmade bed, fitting himself between your thighs as if he were your missing piece. Fingers drunkenly dug at your tender flesh, his lips sweeping yours in a never ending kiss. He climbed higher and higher, only stopping at your drenched underwear. This was all his doing, and he took great pleasure in knowing no other man had the luxury of enticing you the way he did.

He broke away from your mouth to take a good look at your face. He wasn’t lying. With your flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes burning full of lust, you painted such erotic expression that had his heart thudding against his chest. You were too damn beautiful for words to eloquently express.

Clueless about his thoughts, you reached out to him, stretching your fingers across his collarbones. You trailed a path down his bare chest, languidly traversing over his abs and abdomen, as if to confirm this wasn’t another one of your fantasies.

“You really are here, aren’t you?” You touched his cheek. “This is really happening, right?”

Your eyes begged him for an answer, one he gave you by gently kissing over your knuckles.

“I must have been an idiot to leave you behind.” Takasugi continued, finishing his unfinished sentence. “I should have never made you wait so long.”

Even now he held himself accountable for choices you’d made, ignoring that this was exactly what you’d always wanted. Renowned war general or fugitive terrorist, there was no one else you’d rather be with. From the very first moment, it was him. Just him.

You cupped his face and stared deep into his eye. “I could wait an eternity for you.” He smiled a tiny bit, a soft smile that was enough to stir the butterflies inside your stomach.

“Don’t worry. I don’t intend to make you wait a minute longer.”

The two of you fell back into another kiss, having no more use for neither words nor clothes between you. He slid his tongue across your own, his mouth gently sucking at your upper lip. You hummed in approval, hooking a leg behind his torso and thrusted upwards. He reciprocated the movement, grinding his hips against you until the two of you were dry humping each other just like horny teenagers would. Too scared to properly have at it, yet too desperate to resist.

Your fingers caught his obi and swiftly undid it, slipping the yukata off his shoulders. Takasugi smirked, loving how eager you were to touch him, free of any shame and reservation. It made all those lonely nights worth it, and for once, he didn’t feel unworthy of your affections either.

You’d both let passion consume you, to the point of completely missing the light creaking of the door, as well as the pajama-clad silhouette that stood behind its frame.

“Mommy?” In an instant, you shoved Takasugi aside, sending his head to hit the bedpost. He groaned once, though he didn’t complain a second time.

Frantically, you pulled your nightgown up and then down, glancing at Kimiko with about twice the horror she had on her face.

“Y-yes, sweetie?” Your voice came out as a hoarse croak. “Why aren’t you sleeping? Did you have a nightmare?”

The sheets rustled beneath as Takasugi sat up, having tied the obi pack in place. He didn’t look disturbed in the slightest. If anything, he looked utterly composed, as if hadn’t been caught in the act just now.

Kimiko shook her head, hiding a yawn inside her palm. “Why was papa eating your face?”

You broke into a vicious cough while he broke into a lighthearted chuckle, unable to keep his amusement to himself.

The girl looked at you both in a quizzical expression, her green eyes blinking in the dark like headlights. She was five years old, you reminded yourself. Even if she saw something, there was no way she understood the meaning of it.

“He was… We were wrestling!” You deadpanned.

“Wrestling? You mean, fighting?” Her eyes lit up.

He raised an eyebrow, though he didn’t try deny your claims.

“Now that you’ve gotten strong, Mommy didn’t want to fall behind, so I asked your father if he could teach me some of his moves! ‘Face eating’ is one of his super secret advanced techniques!”

“Super secret advanced technique? Did you win?”

“I-I didn’t. I’m no match for him yet.” You admitted.

“Mommy is weak.” Kimiko blunted and he sneered.

“So what did you want, sweetie?”

Ignoring your question, the girl rushed to Takasugi. She stood before him and looked him dead in the eye, as if they were about to have a staring competition among them. He tilted his head curiously and propped his body back against his elbows, awaiting her to speak.

“Teach me!”

“Hm?”

“Teach me how to eat people’s faces!”

“Brats don’t-” He paused. “You are a hundred years too early to be asking such things.”

“If I turn 105, will you show me?”

Takasugi scoffed in annoyance. “I’ll consider it. Now go sleep, or else-”

“Tell me a story!” She tugged at his yukata.

“I already told you a story.”

“I want a story about how you made the bad space guys go woosh!”

“I don’t think that’s a great idea, sweetie.” You placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping he’d also see how improper sharing the brutal details of war is.

“Then tell me about how you and mommy met!”

You shared a look of pure distress, while Kimiko took the chance to hop on your bed, sprawling her body right in the middle of the covers. Defeated, you laid beside her, the girl gluing herself onto Takasugi’s forearm the second his head touched the pillow.

“We studied under the same man.” He started. “Your mother sat behind me and I sat in front of her.”

“And then?” Kimiko pressed her chin onto his shoulder.

“And then one day I saw her.”

“And then?” She asked.

“And then… I didn’t see her again for a very long time.”

“Why? Why?”

“Because I had to rescue someone.”

“Who?”

“… A man who was a true samurai.”

“Are you not a true samurai?” He grunted, shedding a fraction of his patience.

“Did you save him, papa?”

You opened your mouth to answer in his stead, but he waved you off. “No… I didn’t.”

Takasugi stayed silent for a moment, withdrawing deep inside his thoughts. Talking about sensei was always a difficult topic neither of you opted to openly discuss. To you, Shouyou was a teacher, but to him, he was a little less than a father and a little more than a mentor. He was the reason of his hatred and sorrow, and he was the reason why he’d embark on this crusade.

The atmosphere grew heavy, and you weren’t too sure how to explain her father’s change of expression without going into detail, though by the look of it, you wouldn’t have to.

Kimiko placed both hands onto his face and wiped the corners of his eye, ridding him of tears that were invisible. She understood his anguish perfectly, in her own, childish way.

“What are you doing?” He asked in confusion.

“Wiping your tears. Mommy says that if someone wipes your tears, then you won’t be sad anymore.”

“I’m not-” He spoke, though he instantly changed his mind. “Thank you.”

With a pained smile, Takasugi combed his fingers through her violet mane, thinking to himself that rather than destroying the country, he must have saved it in a previous life. He’d only had such thoughts about you before, finding a lifetime’s worth of happiness in the way you looked at him. To think this little girl’s gaze held the same kind of adoration-he felt truly fortunate.

“When did you see mommy again?” She began her questioning again.

“After she’d grown into a woman.”

“Your father visited my hometown a few years later.” You chimed in. “It was during the war. In order to recruit men for his army, he had to travel the entire country, and so, he one day made it to the place I lived.

“What does recruit mean?” Kimiko asked.

“It means that he convinced them to fight for him.”

“Did papa have a great army?”

“Mhm!” You nodded enthusiastically. “Farmers or samurais, it didn’t matter. Even those who didn’t know to wield a sword chose to follow him, and he led them to one victory after the other! He was strong, and he was smart, and he never backed down. He was so popular, that he even had a fan club of his own!” You chuckled and he sighed for the millionth time that night.

“Papa is amazing! He’s just like Tamo-san!” Kimiko clapped her feet together. “Were you his fan, mommy?”

“I was.” You admitted. “From the day I first saw him, I was his biggest fan.”

“And you, papa? Were you also mommy’s fan?”

“No.” He said without thinking twice.

“Why?”

“Because…” Takasugi smirked, “your mother was my first love.”

Drunken cheers, hearty laughters, and half-passed out soldiers around the bonfire.

If there was one thing Takasugi detested about being victorious, then that had to be the celebratory banquets that followed. Everyone was quick to lower their guards and surrender themselves to the fleeting joy of temporary peace. They drunk until their cup was empty, and they drunk until the bottle was empty too, and they drunk until no barrel remained unemptied.

He wanted nothing to do with those celebrations. Not because he didn’t know to hold his liquor or make a toast, but because they were for them, and not for him. He’d sworn to keep his glass empty until the day would come to share it with the one he’d done all this for.

Before he knew it, Takasugi was pouring his drink in the fire, watching the flames perk up and then quiet down unchanged. Without saying a word to the man beside him, he got up from his seat and slowly marched towards the city. No one noticed his absence, though it was better that way. The mood would only sour with him around, and if he were honest, he much preferred the insults he exchanged with those three idiots.

Come think of it, where were they? Knowing Gintoki, he must be drunk out of his mind at some whorehouse that Sakamoto paid for, while Katsura pretended to be too timid for such affairs. Sounds about right.

At the end of the road, Takasugi took a left turn. And when that road came also to its end, he turned right. There was no real destination in his mind. All he meant to do was find a quiet spot away from all the murmur so he could finally breathe, though as luck would have it, that place was unattainable.

Suddenly, a second shadow came to merge with his own. Its steps were lighter than his soldiers’ and heavier than a crow’s. A woman, he noted, and stopped in his tracking.

“One without experience could mistake you for an enemy.” He tapped at his sword. “Trailing after others unannounced is a bad habit in war’s time.”

“Some habits are hard to drop, aren’t they?” The voice responded, idly reminding him of something he couldn’t quite place in his memory. Perhaps she was another one of those foolish girls that were enamored with the “war symbol” version of him.

“I saw you leave and thought you could use the company.”

“Too bad. I left because I couldn’t stand the company of others.”

“Not even of a past acquaintance?” Her words struck him as the truth, though he couldn’t remember a single acquaintance of his past that hadn’t already found a terrible death.

“You have the wrong man.”

The woman walked closer and stood directly behind his back in a way that felt oddly familiar. “Takasugi Shinsuke, disciple of Yoshida Shouyou. Am I still mistaken?”

He clenched his fist tight over his sword’s hilt. “What if you are? How would you know?”

“Because I’ve stared enough times at this back to tell you apart.” And then it finally hit him. The woman behind him was one he once knew as a girl, and that voice was one he’d most definitely heard whisper through his ears before. Because that woman was none other than you.

“The puny back you remember isn’t the same as this.” He sneered, be it without any sort of malice.

“It might not be, but the boy who wished to shoulder the burden of the world, remains the same.”

He chuckled and you smiled, hesitantly laying a hand onto his shoulder. “Care to turn around? I really want to see what the face of that boy looks now.”

He obliged, not so much to fulfill your wish, but mostly because he couldn’t beat his own curiosity. What did you look like now? What kind of person had you grown into? He’d kept the outdated image of your face all those years, not ever expecting to meet with you again, and now he had the chance to actually witness what became of the one that got away.

You took in each other’s features, and for a while it felt as if you’d both traversed time. He looked at your face, your hair, and the imperfect state of your kimono, and all he could think of was how there seemed to be a second moon in this world, much brighter than the one that paled in the skies.

You looked good, he wanted to say. No, you looked beautiful was what he really meant to say. But in the end he said nothing, and he kept ogling you like some sort of creep, until your gentle smile widened for him.

“I thought so. Now I should go back and you can continue your-”

Before he could stop himself, he’d caught your hand in his. Your stares crossed and his brows furrowed, uncertain why he did that. “Y/N” This might as well be the very first time he called your name out loud, and he found he quite liked the sound of it.

Your eyes flickered between his fingers and his face, as he slowly let go. This was ridiculous, he thought, and turned the other way. Since when did a woman’s presence make him act so rashly?

Without spending time to contemplate any further, Takasugi dragged his feet forward, hoping to finally fade into the darkness, when he saw that the shadow behind him had yet to fade.

“It’s still loud, isn’t it?”

“Terribly so.”

The rest of the night went by in relative quietness. Kimiko kept asking questions and Takasugi kept answering every single one of them, until their topic derailed. She asked him of his past, your love story, and about the hidden powers a samurai unlocked, oftentimes confusing the plot of Naruto with reality. At that point, he stopped talking, and she eventually drifted into deep slumber, drenching his sleeve with saliva.

Neither of you could sleep, or more accurately, neither of you wanted to. You insisted to look at each other’s face, batting your lashes every now and then in fatigue.

“Aren’t you tired?” He asked first.

You scooted a little closer, sandwiching Kimiko right in the middle. She spelled something about Sharingans and one eyed samurais, but she was definitely still asleep.

“I didn’t know.” You whispered. “I didn’t know I was your first love.”

A faint chuckle poured from his direction. “Is that why you don’t sleep?”

“What’s your excuse then?” You pouted.

“You.” His fingers reached yours amidst the darkness, though he was soon forced to retract them.

“Never thought my own daughter would be my rival in love.” You mumbled. “You know, Christmas is in two days.”

“Is this your way of asking for a gift?” Takasugi snarked.

“Far from it. But… I’m sure a certain someone will be expecting one.”

You heard him curse under his breath, and knew your message had come across.

“Goodnight, Shinsuke.”

“Goodnight.” He spelled back, though neither dared look away from the other.

[lilac-5ky]

🎁 Christmas with Takasugi and your daughter (x Fem!Reader) Part 2🎄

A/N: It took 500 years to write this, and before anyone dares say "bruh, X-Mas is over", I'm going to say IDC! House visits, domestic fights and lack of contentration got in a way, BUT the second and final part of this 2-part fanfic is here, and HOPEFULLY, was worth the wait!

Plot: Picks up right where the first part left off. I'll link the first one down below ^^

Warnings: SMUT!

Part 1

The next day started with a kiss. Or more accurately, a hasty kiss on your cheek, preceded by the hour-long struggle of breaking free from Kimiko. The girl’s clutches remained buried deep in Takasugi’s arm the entire night. He’d underestimated her. With such great strength, her becoming a samurai wasn’t completely out of the question.

Little by little, he dragged his body along to the edge of the bed, leaving only his right arm behind. He yanked it once, and he yanked it twice, and after a few more tries, he was able to feel the blood flowing in his veins again. Kimiko rolled to the side, her small hands aimlessly seeking her former pillow, until he redirected her towards your body.

You were still asleep. Both of you were, though that didn’t stop you from locking each other in a tight embrace, one that brought a smile to his lips. This was his, he thought. The woman he loved and the daughter he’d created with her. His own family.

The word felt odd and bitter in his mouth. The last time he’d thought of that word was a long time ago, meant for people whom he hadn’t addressed in over a decade. He barely remembered what any of their faces looked like, and for that he had no regrets.

In that household, he was never Takasugi Shinsuke. He was just the firstborn son of an unimportant clan that feigned prestige. The firstborn son that would help realize a greedy man’s aspirations and continue his legacy of lies. Nothing more, and nothing less. A tool they had no trouble disposing of the moment it stopped working the way it was supposed to.

Family. After he was disowned, that came to be the last thing in his mind. A family created responsibilities and expectations, and he needed neither to weigh him down. He wanted no more than his soldiers to depend on him. He wished to live for himself, the way that man taught him to. But he’d let that man down. Just like he’d let his family down. Just like he’d let you two down.

Family. What was there for him to give to a family? Between the battlefield he’d chosen and the hollow spot inside his chest, where was he supposed to fit a family in?

Family. He washed the word in his mouth with the sight before him. Kimiko’s small hands squeezing you close. Your long hair cascading down her face. The quiet sound of your breaths attuning to each other.

He looked at you and thought that perhaps this once, he could allow himself to take. That he could fit himself right between your bodies, not as Takasugi Shinsuke the firstborn, or Takasugi Shinsuke the Kiheitai commander, but simply as Shinsuke and whatever ridiculous nickname Kimiko had in store for him.

Family, he tasted a final time. Perhaps he could get used to that.

Having spent more than enough time of pointlessly standing there, he decided it was time to go. He tiptoed all the way to the door, where he found a dark piece of fabric sprawled across the wooden floor. The scarf, he remembered as he knelt down to pick it up. You always did such unnecessary things without him asking, though he couldn’t complain. Not when said things gave him excuse to go back to bed and sneak a kiss on your cheek.

And now, it was really time to go.

With his newly acquired gift to shield him from the cold, Takasugi wandered through the bustling streets of Edo, soon finding himself in the middle of the town’s annual Christmas market. He really thought he’d successfully evaded the Kiheitai’s Secret Santa plot, yet there he was, gift-hunting less than a day later.

In his lifetime, he could count the gifts he’d bought for others on one hand, and none of the recipients were remotely close to Kimiko’s age.

When Matako turned 18, he remembered being dragged to this very same market by Bansai who insisted that a girl’s coming of age was a significant event. The two reviewed more kimonos than a bride would at a dress fitting, though in the end, each opted for a different choice; Bansai for a cellphone, and Takasugi for the holsters the blonde currently sported around her waist. She seemed more than elated and thanked them both sincerely, going so far as to break into tears of happiness.

That must have been the last time he’d personally made a purchase on someone’s account, but then again a past success didn’t guarantee a future one.

The situations were hardly the same. Bansai wasn’t there to assist him, and he didn’t know Kimiko the same way he knew Matako. He didn’t know whether she fancied practical or pretty things, and he didn’t have a clue what colors and designs she preferred. Even when he’d quite literally been shown her Christmas wishes, he was incapable of fulfilling either.

And so, he decided to examine each and every stall one by one, hoping that somewhere between the corny Santa merchandise and elaborate snow globes, a sufficient gift would emerge.

The first merchants he encountered were all representatives of well known retail chains and brands. They sold just about anything anyone would need, gathering the vast majority of the crowd around them. A true display of capitalism, he scoffed, watching the mouths of the customers parti in awe and the hands of the stallholders eagerly stretch to grab the cash.

He let a few entertain him, allowing them to point him towards their “finest goods”. From exquisite fur coats to silver cutlery, each suggestion got more ridiculous than the one before, as if instead of “five year old girl” he’d said “sixty-five year old woman with a knack for luxury”. Eventually he nodded them off and left, keeping his muffled curses to himself.

He pulled away from the popular stalls in favor of the few solitary craftsmen up ahead, stopping before a kokeshi doll artist.

The man was bent over his newest creation with a rigger brush in hand, meticulously painting the details of her face. Each line came to paint an elegant yet slightly mischievous expression. Her hair was dark and her kimono light, with a pattern of scarlet red poinsettias all over. She wasn’t particularly pretty, and certainly did not compete with the new generation toys he’d seen, but there was something eye-catching about her design.

“Are you looking to buy, samurai-san?” The man asked, twisting the doll’s head in place and setting her aside.

“Your craft is interesting.” Takasugi commented. “Differs from the typical daruma dolls.”

“Why, thank you for your praise. ” He bowed. “Pick whichever one you like.”

Without spending any time to consider, Takasugi drew a pouch from his yukata and dropped a handful of coins on the counter. “The poinsettia one.”

“You know the meaning behind it?” The man smiled. “These flowers indicate more than Christmas cheer. They indicate blessing, and one should always count their blessings before the year ends. Don’t you think so?” He packed the doll in a small bag and extended it to him.

Suddenly, the face of a certain impressionable yet equal parts mischievous girl popped in his mind. The girl that’d come into his life as a mistake and stayed as a remorse. The girl he’d treated with utter avoidance and neglect. The girl whose existence he never celebrated. Not on her birthdays, not on Christmas, not once.

A blessing was far from what he’d considered his daughter to be. Still, why was it that at the sound of such vague term, those twinkling eyes and tiny hands on his cheeks seemed to be all he could imagine?

He’d screwed up. Majorly. He claimed the distance he put between them was for her sake; so that the terrible fate he carried would pass her by, but that was a lie. He never considered her. He simply ran away from whatever he thought had a chance at making him happy, because he was damn afraid to consider another as a blessing.

But that’s precisely what you were to him, and that’s what Kimiko was too, and he knew that very well. Just like he knew no gift would be able to compensate for the years lost, and just like he knew the old man was right.

There was still time.

Takasugi took the bag from his hands and bid him goodbye, marching towards the next stall in line.

By the end of his stroll, Takasugi had acquired a total of five Christmas gifts, four of which were meant for Kimiko; the kokeshi doll, a storytelling book about a miniature samurai with a needle for a sword, a plush lion toy for her to clutch onto instead of his arm, and lastly, lego troops that even the child in his heart would envy.

He’d bought a gift for each Christmas he’d missed, but when it came down to the fifth one, that’s what he struggled with the most. As pointless or impossible as it sounds, he hadn’t completely given up on granting her wishes, and while marrying his own daughter was beyond absurd, he wanted to properly introduce her to the life of a samurai.

He wasn’t much older than she was when he got accepted in the military academy and got to hold his first real sword in hand. Even when he hated everything about that place, the experience remained ever vivid in his brain as his first taste of power.

Perhaps her dream to become a samurai was a fleeting one, but in case it wasn’t, Takasugi wished to be present during her first steps. No, he wasn’t mad enough to get her a sword, or let her play with his. Sword-ban aside, she was capable of tearing the entire house to shreds in one fell swoop, and the last thing he needed was trouble with you, yet the question remained the same; if not with a sword, then how?

“This is Hanano Saki reporting live from Edo’s Christmas bazaar for Oedo TV! The stalls are stocked with product, and the holiday spirit is in the air. As you can see, families and couples have already gathered to share the joy of the season, while last-minute shoppers are making their final purchases. Let’s hear what they have to say! Good Morning, Sir, and Merry Christmas! Are you here alone or with a special someone?”

Takasugi was in such deep thought that he didn’t notice the camera crew or the reporter approaching him until a microphone was shoved into his face. He knew who she was. Not personally, but he’d seen her interview those carol-singing kids on the news.

What a bother.

At first, he tried to shake her off and get going, though by the look of it, he wouldn’t be able to do that without causing a scene. His hands were heavy on shopping bags, and drawing a blade on an insignificant reporter seemed rather far-fetched. In the end, he simply shook his head and awaited her next question, hoping that more would not follow.

“Whom are you shopping for?”

“My daughter.”

“You have a daughter? That’s lovely!” Saki feigned excitement. “What did your little girl ask for Christmas?”

“She asked to become a samurai. Says she wants to be just like me.”

“How admirable! Do you work for the Shogun, sir?”

“On the contrary.” Takasugi smirked. “I am the one who’s after your Shogun’s head.”

It took a minute to register, but once it did, both Saki and the camera crew shared an awkward chuckle, before she motioned them to film elsewhere and vanished from his sight.

Nothing had changed since his last visit. No one wanted anything to do with a terrorist, and as long as this was his get-out-of-jail-free-card, he didn’t mind abusing it to avoid others. Although, he wouldn’t be surprised to receive a phone call from Bansai later, should he listen to the news. Oh well.

Takasugi resumed walking, and he walked for quite a while, until he’d left the Christmas Market behind him for good. Kimiko’s fifth gift would have to wait. There was no point for him to risk a public showdown with Bakufu’s police dogs in the middle of the crowd. Not when he had a dozen of bags restricting his movements.

He kept shifting their weight from one hand to the other, huffing in annoyance each time. Perhaps if he packed them all into one bag it’d be better, but there was nowhere for him to place them. Snow prevailed everywhere he looked. From the frozen waters of Edo River to the fluffy coating of all benches. All, except one.

Elated, he rushed in its direction, his hurried steps coming to a halt the second he realized the bench wasn’t as vacant.

A pair of black boots dangled over the edge, with the rest of the man’s body hidden underneath the snowy blanket. Empty bottles of sake were scattered around, revealing all he possibly needed to know of his identity. Another homeless drunk, or so he thought until he spotted a strand of pure silver where the man’s head was supposed to be.

Out of all the people in Edo… it couldn’t be him, right? Out of all the people he could possibly meet, this wasn’t him, right?

Unable to win over his curiosity, Takasugi leaned closer and stretched his hand forward, when a wild sneeze sent him flying back. His clothes turned white and his bags dropped to the ground. It was as if a mutt shook itself dry against him, the amount of snow on his yukata exceeding the one that remained on the bench, and in turn, the passed-out man’s body.

Gintoki.

“Just one more bottle, babe, and I will… I will…” The silver haired samurai snored, completely unaware of his presence.

His dead-fish eyes were squeezed shut, and his mouth was half-full of snow as he repeated incomprehensible and vastly inappropriate words about cabaret girls. In his arms, he cradled a wooden bokuto and in his belt, another half emptied green bottle served as a sheath.

How can he live like this? Takasugi pondered, both angered and disheartened by the state of his former comrade. If he was going to live like this, then why did he break his promise? Why did he choose to stay back and settle for living a life more pitiful than the one he lived before? How could he…? How could he have chosen him?

His fists balled at his sides. One eager to punch Gintoki till his knuckles bled, and the other aching to punch the world into shreds. He’d never admit how much it pained him to see him this way, and perhaps that’s what he dreaded the most about their next encounter.

He needed to know Gintoki hurt the same way he did. He desperately needed to know he wasn’t alone in this. That what had united them in the first place still burned within him, but at the same time, he needed nothing more than to rid his memory of his friend’s teary image.

Suddenly, Gintoki began stirring in his sleep, his left hand dragging the bokuto towards his mouth as he attempted to take a sip from it. Takasugi shot him one of his infamous glares, though he meant little harm. If anything, he was relieved to see the idiotic samurai remain as idiotic as he remembered him to be.

He yanked the bokuto from his hands and replaced it with the unemptied bottle. He guided it to his lips and tilted it until the snow dissolved at the back of his throat. Gintoki hummed in approval, tightening his lips around the rim as if it were a nursing bottle.

Takasugi took a step back, unsure why he’d chosen to accommodate him. Be it out of pity or sympathy, one thing was certain; next time, there wouldn’t be sympathy for him to spare.

He picked the bags up and turned to leave, when the unmistakable sound of sirens forced his ears to perk up. Shinsengumi. The thought followed after his feet did. With Gintoki’s bokuto still in hand, he pranced through the streets all the way back into the Christmas market, hoping to shake them off within the crowd.

People parted at the sight of him running, few of them gasping as he pushed through them. He had no time to turn around and face his chasers. Even when there was no place for a car to fit in, he knew they were right behind him, following after the trail of distressed shoppers. There were two of them-no, there were three of them. Two on his back, and one to his right. Their voices were most distinct among the clatter, growing louder as they closed in on him.

Running out of options, Takasugi threw himself into an alleyway. A dead-end that reduced his options from flight or fight to just the latter. He gripped Gintoki’s bokuto and assumed a defensive stance, when a certain red dressed man came to be his only form of salvation.

When you woke up this morning, both Takasugi and the scarf were missing. He disappeared without so much as leaving a note behind, though that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. You were used to his sudden appearances and disappearances, and simply carried on with the rest of your day like you normally would.

You cooked breakfast. You washed the dishes. You cooked lunch. You washed the dishes. You cooked dinner, and now, you washed the dishes anew. The same routine as on any other day, except your mind was on him more so than per usual.

Each visit of his made your next parting all the more difficult to bear. You’d promised to wait for him no matter how long it took to see his goals through. That was the vow you made on that day, and you planned on honoring it till the end, but at times like this, it felt like your body would give out before your heart did.

“Mommy, why are you sighing?” Kimiko, who was sitting at the table, asked.

She’d spent her entire afternoon by your side, all the while she attempted to incorporate Takasugi into her drawings. He was reduced to this Hitotsume Kozou-looking creature with butterfly wings on his back and about five swords in each hand, while your neck was elongated enough to compete with a giraffe. Kimiko proudly stood at the center, looking about ten times her actual size, with a surfboard-wide sword flying over her head.

The rest of the props included a glowing green sun, vibrant yellow grass, and a house from which three heads popped: a curly brown-haired one with sunglasses, a slick black-haired one, and a silver-permed one, each representing her beloved uncles.

Drawing was nowhere near her strong suit, but the way she’d depicted the three of you holding hands made this particular picture far more valued than any of the ones she’d drawn before.

“Mommy’s just a bit tired.” You answered, throwing a look over your shoulder. “Have you finished your drawing?”

“Mhm!” Kimiko held the paper up for you to see. “I gave papa a big smile and put love all around him!”

“That’s not love, sweetie, that’s just hearts.” You chuckled, scrubbing the final plate. “People experience love through them.”

“Do I have a heart, mommy?”

“Of course you do!”

“Does papa have one? Does papa love me with his heart?”

“Of course he does!” You assured. “Even when we can’t see others’ hearts, we can always see the love in them, and you should know your father’s heart is full of love for you.”

Kimiko beamed and you felt a weight dropping off your shoulders. This was a reminder for yourself, as much as it was for her. He loved you. Takasugi loved you. He loved you enough to keep coming back, and he loved you enough to drag danger away from you, and that as all you needed to stop sulking.

“Mommy, the bell is ringing!”

Between the faucet’s sound and your own thoughts, you failed to pick up on the distant ring that echoed rampant in the background.

“Really? I don’t hear anything-”

Before you had the chance to even wash your hands, Kimiko raced all the way from the kitchen to the door, dropping a path of chipped crayons in her tracks. She paid no mind to your warnings about opening the door for strangers, and instead, she pushed it wide open, her jaw dropping at the sight that awaited her.

It was a man. A man who was neither her father, nor a complete stranger. A man dressed in a red suit with white fur trim on his hem, sleeves and hat, and a wide buckled belt around his waist. A man whose clothing was so loose that revealed half his chest, and whose fake graying beard was about to drop from his face. A man with one eye concealed by bandages, and another that burned with sheer rage and disappointment.

A man who was most definitely not Takasugi Shinsuke, but Santa neither.

Kimiko stared at him for quite a while, the colors of her expression changing from utter excitement to pure apathy as she shut the door in his face and sprinted back towards the kitchen.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to open the door when you don’t know who it is?” You reprimanded her in a stern tone, while she fumbled with an object behind your back.

“I thought it was papa.” Kimiko said.

She dragged a stool close to the counter and climbed on top of it to search for the cookie jar. Once she found it, she drew a handful of cookies out and carefully wrapped a napkin around them.

“Was it?” You dried your hands against your apron.

“No. Just Santa.” Kimiko stepped down and vanished outside the room.

“Santa? What do you-Kimiko! Wait!”

The girl pranced back towards the door, greeting a significantly more distressed Takasugi with the delicacies she’d hand-picked for him. He stretched his hand to accept them, confusion spreading across his features the second he peered at the napkin’s content.

“Great lord Santa-sama,” she clasped her hands in reverence, “Kimiko apolozigies for bringing you here for no reason, but Kimiko doesn’t need your assassinstance anymore.” She stuttered. “Commander General Papa said I can grant my own wishes now, and after I turn 105, he’ll show me his eye’s great secrets and marry me.”

Takasugi struggled to reply in a way that didn’t involve him tearing his fake beard off his chin and repeatedly stomping it onto the ground. The chase had exhausted his willpower, and moving in this furnace of a suit pushed him past the brink of insanity.

Every kid he’d come across stopped him to ask for either a picture, a gift, or to sit on his lap. The humiliation was unlike any he’d experienced, but when his daughter shut the door in his face a second time, he realized that to be wrong.

A pair of hands snatched Kimiko right as she did, inducing a high-pitched squeal from her.

“Mommy!” She flapped her arms repeatedly to free herself.

“When did you turn into such a disobedient little girl? Why are you not listening when I speak? And who is this Santa you are talking about?”

“It’s the real Santa! Look, mommy, look!” She pointed at the peephole.

Reluctantly, you set her down and took a peek at what appeared to be a bush of gray hair, right where the man’s jaw ought to be.

No way.

With one hand shoving Kimiko’s head behind, you opened the door, coming face to face with your unannounced visitor; a very angry, Santa-cosplaying Takasugi, who could very well have come to deliver death threats instead of gifts.

“I told you it’s Santa!” Kimiko bragged, pointing at his face with a smug expression.

“I… can see that,” was the only thing you managed to say. The shock was too great to even laugh at his mismatched outfit.

“He has one eye just like papa!”

“I can also see that…”

“That’s because I am-” Takasugi attempted to butt in, only to be interrupted right after.

“That’s because Santa had a terrible accident! He, uhm-” You squeezed your brain to find an appropriate excuse, possibly coming up with the worst there is. “He was stabbed in the eye by Rudolph’s antlers!”

Kimiko gasped and Takasugi blinked, while you wished to swallow your tongue.

“Scary!” She buried her face in the crook of your leg.

“You don’t need to be scared, sweetie! I’m sure Rudolph didn’t mean to hurt Santa! Isn’t that right, Shin- Santa?”

You stared deeply into his eye and begged him to keep up with your charades. He seemed more than unwilling to do so, though in the end, he simply shrugged and balanced his giant red sack from one shoulder to the other.

“That looks heavy! Would you like to come in for some hot yak-cocoa?” You forcibly tried to change the subject.

“He can’t!” Kimiko shouted, jumping in the middle. “Papa forbids it!”

“Oi, I never said-” Takasugi shook his head. “Your father never said that. He only said you shouldn’t rely on others for things you can achieve on your own.”

“H-how do you know that, Santa?” Kimiko’s eyes widened.

“Because, I… work with him.” He said.

“Papa works with Santa?”

At this point, he could only spiral deeper into this mess, which he did with a single nod.

“Santa fights bad space guys with Papa?” She asked again. “Then can Santa also use the super secret face eating technique and make them go ‘Kaboom’?”

“No. He has his own super secret technique. He slays them with his dual candy cane blades and decks the halls with their blood.” Takasugi grinned, getting a tad too into the role he created for himself.

Kimiko clapped her hands in excitement and peeked over his shoulders, trying her best to spot the so-called blades that he mentioned.

You didn’t know whether to scold or applaud him for his creativity.

“Now, can I come in?”

The girl removed herself from the way and ran towards the living room in circles.

Takasugi sighed and finally stepped in. “How many of those stupid excuses do you come up with?”

“As many as I need for her to maintain her innocence.” You smiled and dusted a few bits of snow off his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t call Rudolph bludgeon as such.”

“And I wouldn’t call turning candy canes into lethal weapons as such either.” You responded and he smirked.

“Mommy, is Santa coming?” Kimiko shouted from the other side of the house.

“Yes, sweetie, right away!”

The two of you followed after her voice, leaving the unexplained situation as is.

“If papa’s rank is general commander, what’s your rank, Santa?”

The three of you had settled in the living room; Takasugi was reclined in the sofa, while Kimiko and you shared the couch. Three cups brimful of hot cocoa were served along a snowflake-shaped platter for you to munch from. Kimiko didn’t hesitate to gobble four butter cookies in one go, and even Takasugi deigned to accept one.

“Space Cavalry Captain.” He deadpanned, dipping his cookie into the mug to soak it up.

“What does Cavalary mean?” Kimiko asked.

“It means, I’m in charge of the space horses.” He took a bite and set the rest aside, having dusted the breadcrumbs off his fingers. “And reindeer.”

“Wow!” She exclaimed in genuine awe. “Santa, are all reindeer trained to be bloodthirsty?”

“Kimiko!”

“Some.” He smirked as he brought the cocoa to his lips. “But they make excellent companions.”

Takasugi took a sip and nodded twice in your direction as if to compliment you. Knowing his tastes, you’d added an extra chunk of dark chocolate in his beverage to balance out the sweetness.

“Did you bring them with? Can I pet them?”

“They…”

He concluded that none of his three trusty “reindeer” would be up for the task. Bansai had little tolerance for children, Takechi would probably parade her through every single Edo pageant, and Matako was just a child herself. Except she wasn’t, but he always found it more convenient to forget that.

“Never mind.” He faintly chuckled. “How about you open your presents instead?”

Kimiko ran a lap around the coffee table and dipped her head inside the sack, nearly slipping right in. A bunch of different sounds rustled as she did, making even you wonder what it was that he’d gotten her.

The first object Kimiko drew out was an adorable lion plushie with a sun-shaped mane and big marble-like eyes. She lifted it above her head and took a good look at it before squeezing it tight in her embrace.

“Kimiko names you Shishi! Shishi will be Kimiko’s friend forever and will join Papa’s fight!” She proudly announced, sparing the lion a military salute.

She took out the next objects and examined them one by one; She fawned over the doll’s pretty kimono and asked for a real-life-sized one for them to match. She squealed at the action scenes drawn in the book and made a failed effort to read through the words before giving up, and lastly, she took her sweet time to name each and every soldier in her lego regiment, bestowing them with fancy titles that may or may not exist.

All the while she did that, Takasugi, who’d already switched places with her, remained fixated on her every move. The green in his eye flickered with every wrapping that came undone, and only settled after she expressed her excitement with a toothy grin.

You could tell how impatient he was, and you could also tell he was the one who smiled brightest, in spite of the beard that covered the lower part of his face.

Your hand found his behind his back and gently pressed down, forcing him to look away from Kimiko and soldier number 57. “Thank you.” You formed the words in your mouth without speaking them out loud.

Takasugi shook his head and returned the grip, leaning a bit closer to whisper, “Save it for those Bakufu mongrels.”

At first, you were confused. Bakufu mongrels had to be the Shinsengumi, and you couldn’t quite see the connection, until the puzzle pieces began falling in line on their own; his inexplicable tardiness and soured mood. The whole Santa act. It all made sense.

Without realizing it, you broke into a nasal laughter that earned yourself a cautionary glare. One that you couldn’t take seriously when it came from a Santa-cosplaying terrorist.

He was right to make light of the Shinsengumi. Only a blind man would not recognize him in his makeshift disguise. He mostly looked like he always did, except a bit more festive.

“Woah!” Kimiko yelped and you instantly parted before she could get wind of what you’d been doing. “It looks just like Uncle Gin’s!”

Her dream of acquiring a surfboard-wide sword seemed to have been fulfilled, as the girl lifted a rather familiar bokuto over her head with the inscription “Lake Toya” on its handle. She swung it around, nearly knocking all three cups onto the floor.

Takasugi reacted right on time, catching the sword’s edge between his palms and then lowering it away from the table. “Takes more than a sword to make a samurai. The rest is up to you.” He retracted his hands.

Kimiko nodded and set the sword down. “Santa is the coolest!”

“I thought your father was!” He argued.

“Santa is the second coolest!” She corrected and he smiled in content.

“What about mommy?” You frowned.

“Mommy is third coolest!”

Takasugi snickered, while you fell back against the couch, comically dejected.

“I’ve failed…”

His cackle mellowed into a smile as he ran a finger across your cheek. You looked up at him, expecting to hear words such as “To me, you are the one who’s coolest” or even “You could never fail”, but instead, all he did was pick a leftover crumb and flinch it off your face.

“Is that really Gin-san’s?” You mumbled.

“Does it matter?” He shrugged. “That idiot has no use for it besides poking his nose with it.”

You couldn’t deny that Gintoki had fallen from grace. He spent more time wandering around and spending his meager coins on booze and Pachinko than doing actual Odd Jobs, but that didn’t justify robbing him off his sword. After all, Gintoki had always been more than accommodating to both Kimiko and you.

Noticing your scowl, Takasugi leaned closer once more. “Don’t worry. I’ll send him a card.”

“‘Merry Christmas, I stole your bokuto, ho ho ho’?” You chaffed.

“More like ‘Merry Christmas. Talk to my daughter again and it will be your last’.”

The two of you shared a quiet chuckle.

“That does sound more like you.”

“Mommy, when will papa return?” Kimiko interrupted, her new-found bokuto standing proudly by her side as if it were a pitchfork.

Your gaze gravitated from Kimiko to Takasugi. If he were to make his appearance now, her excitement would keep her up all night, and it was already past her bedtime.

“He might be late, sweetie.” You patted her hair softly. “Why don’t you prep yourself for bed, and I’ll send Santa to find him, mhm?”

The girl nodded in obedience and replaced the sword for her newest plush toy addition.

“Bye, Santa!” She lifted Shishi’s arm and waved him off. “Thank you for the toys and for bringing papa back!”

A faint, almost inconspicuous blush colored his cheeks red as he returned the gesture.

Perhaps ranking third wasn’t so bad.

“That was fast.”

In a room predominated by white and purple hues, Takasugi came to be the sole streak of red. His undone jacket and unbuckled belt revealed a thin strip of skin as he propped himself against the bed sheets. He’d lost both the beard and the stocking hat, with the final accessory he sported being a leisurely smile.

You didn’t have the chance to notice it before, but you had to admit; not even these ridiculous clothes were capable of making him look bad.

“I should have taken a pic when you were still in full outfit.”

“You’ve resorted to blackmail?” He quirked a brow curiously.

You chuckled. “I just want proof that today happened.”

“As if this isn’t enough.”

You closed the door behind and then locked it, just in case a certain troublemaker decided to take a midnight stroll.

“She was already asleep when I entered the room.” You said in response to his previous statement. “I think it’s safe to say she loved her gifts. Poor Shishi’s face is all covered in drool. "

“She’d better. I didn’t go through all this trouble for nothing.” He said.

“How was it? Revisiting Edo.”

“Far noisier than I remembered.”

“And how was Gin-san?”

At the sound of his former comrade’s name, a shadow of discomfort plagued Takasugi’s features. It was a name he avoided with as much strenuity as he avoided the man behind it.

In over five years, this was the first time they’d met with one another, be it by chance or not. Even when Sakamoto and Katsura planned their little get-togethers, neither Gintoki nor Takasugi showed up out of fear of running into each other. They insisted that their bond was cut right where the war ended, but this very avoidance suggested otherwise.

Discomfort gave way to tenacity, his gaze ushering you to revoke your question. This can of worms was one he hadn’t braced himself to open. However, it’d take more than a persistent look for you to bend to his will.

Realizing that, Takasugi closed his eye and took a singular deep breath. “About the same as I remember. Completely out of it.”

There was care behind his disdain. Enough for you to relinquish this topic and shift to another.

“So, you’ll make her into a samurai?”

“Can’t make her into anything, but if that’s what she wants…” He shrugged. “I supposed I could give a hand.”

An involuntarily sigh evaded your lips. “She’s as stubborn as you are. Probably best to learn from you.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it.”

“It’s not that…”

“Are you scared she’ll end up like me?” He snapped, his quiet tone unable to dull his razor-sharp tongue.

“Not that either. It’s just…” You shook your head. “Nothing.”

Silence befell the room, turning an otherwise pleasant evening into something indigestible for the both of you. His eye queried a question that your lips weren’t particularly keen on giving. It wasn’t so much that you didn’t know how to answer him, rather that, you didn’t know of a way to stay true to your feelings without hurting his own.

Saccharine sugarcoating could never substitute bitter truths.

“I just don’t want her getting hurt.” You admitted. “I don’t want her to hurt the way you do. I don’t want to lose her the way I lost you.”

Here, Kimiko was safe. Here, you could hold her hand and wipe her tears whenever things got too hard for her to bear, but out there, she’d be completely on her own, stuck in a world that had no place for neither dreams nor samurai. It was a world that would chew her up and spit her out, and you couldn’t stand to see this happen a second time.

“Is that… so?” The words lingered like poison in his mouth.

Over the past few years, the concept of loss was one he’d become disgustingly familiar with. He’d lost his men, his friends, his teacher, and perhaps even himself, but not once did he think that he’d lost you, let alone that you had lost him.

How could he, when you were right there with him? On the empty pillow of his bed and the stained reflection of his sword. Across starless skies and waveless seas. In his victories and his defeats.

Yours was the smile that warmed him through each night. The voice that lulled him to sleep. The hand that stitched his every wound. It was all yours. It was all you. You’d become an indispensable part of him that he could never lose, so how could you say that you’d lost him?

Out of all the expected outcomes, Takasugi did what was most unexpected; he chuckled. He chuckled at the absurdity and the irony of the situation, and he chuckled at your strained expression and furrowed brows that perfectly mirrored his own.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but you haven’t gotten rid of me yet.” Your eyes met at the same level as he stood up and walked towards you.

“I told you last night, didn’t I? I’m right here. And as for her,” he smirked, “I know for a fact she won’t learn to wield a sword before your hair grows gray.

“So don’t worry. She will end up nothing like me. She won’t die. She won’t shed so much as a drop of blood or tear that is hers.”

Without meaning to, you glanced down at your hair, just in case the graying spots he mentioned had started to manifest. You found none, while he found another reason to chuckle.

“Turn around.”

His sudden command felt out of place, though you had no reason to deny him. You did as told and turned your back on him, coming face to face with the uneasy expression that your dresser’s mirror reflected.

He was also there, as a pair of hands that gradually crawled up your spine and swiped the hair off your neck and shoulders. With one hand he held them up into a topknot, and with the other, he dug through his jacket, eventually revealing a thin golden rod from within. A hairpin, you realized when you noticed the red poinsettia flowers that drooped from one end.

“Even when you grow into a frail, old granny,” he said as he pieced his handiwork together, “this image won’t fade from my eye, just like the image from back then never did.”

Instead of taking a step back, Takasugi snaked his arms around your waist and pressed a tender kiss on your nape. “I look forward to having more images of you etched in my memory, Y/N.” He hummed against your neck. “That’s why I won’t die, and that’s why I’ll make sure our daughter doesn’t die either. To hell with the world, and to hell with everyone else.”

His grip tightened around your body, hoping to affirm his promise.

You took in that image and you wondered; what would it be like to grow old beside him? To see the color of his eye pale and the fire within extinguished? What kind of lines would shape up his face? Would he look any less striking than he now did? Would there come a day when the sight of him no longer excited you?

The falsehood of those sentences brought a smile to your lips. From the first moment you handed him that pen he dropped in Shouyou’s class, to this moment right now, Takasugi was the only man who’d managed to make you feel this way. Happy. Warm. Loved.

His thoughts didn’t differ much from yours, except there was a certain despair behind them. Everything he did, every single action of his that had brought him to stand in front of this mirror, went against the future his heart dreamt. A future without hurt, without conflict, without war. A future with just you, and the graying strands of your hair laced around his fingers.

“What are you all quiet for?” He asked, growing self conscious of his unspeakable desires.

“No reason. I just never thought I’d get myself another gift from Santa in this lifetime.”

Your blatant lie made his eye roll, and his arms let go. He acted as if he were offended, though ultimately he felt relieved the conversation ended there.

Before his embrace completely loosened, you caught his hands in yours and faced him once more.

You always loved the way his hands felt. They were broad enough for you to comfortably trace every single nick and line that embroidered his palms and fingers. Some, you explored for the very first time, while others, you’d touched numerous times before. They were the hands of a seasoned warrior, be it no less delicate than those of a poet.

“I never blamed you, you know.” Words glazed in a mellow tone. “If I had a chance at a do-over, the only thing I’d change is this. I should have held your hand tighter. Even if nothing changed, I shouldn’t have let go of you first. It doesn’t amount to anything, but I still wanted you to know.

“I love this side of you, Shinsuke. The one that is thoughtful enough to come up with the right things to say. The one that makes up gory Christmas stories with me, and the one that actually believed this ridiculous disguise would work.” You chuckled. “I love all sides of you. I love you.”

Takasugi closed his knuckles around your own, tightly intertwining your fingers together.

“Didn’t realize we were having a love confession contest.”

The corners of his eye curved along with those of his mouth into two separate smiles, both meant for you.

“Very well. I’d hate to concede.”

Still, that was exactly what he did.

He drew you close and pushed his lips against yours, the depth of his grin imprinting itself on your mouth.Whether this was an attempt to claim victory or an impulse that had boiled over, neither of you cared to find out. He wanted you, and you wanted him, and that kiss was enough to affirm both sentiments.

“Would it be rude of me to take it off?” Your tongue shaped the words along his bottom lip.

A look of sheer curiosity shimmered through his eyelashes. Curiosity that turned into amusement the second your hands tore that flimsy Christmas jacket off his shoulders. You smiled coyly and brought both palms up his toned chest, carefully inspecting the latest addition of scars, first with your fingers, and then with your lips.

You counted the slashes. One relatively new at the base of his neck, and another that had faded into a pale line above his heart. You brushed over each, your tongue trailing a calculated path from one point to the other.

The first time you’d jokingly kissed one of his wounds came to mind. It was a teensy paper cut on his index, caused by one of Sakamoto’s letters. He’d seemed so irritated that you grabbed his finger and placed it in your mouth “to make it heal faster”.

However, the reason behind his annoyance wasn’t the scratch, so much as it was his former comrade’s incompetence, and your gesture had simply fanned the flames, coloring his face an unnatural shade of bright red.

The Takasugi before you seemed to have outgrown the shyness of his teenage counterpart. Only the rapid drumming of his heart betrayed how he felt, his anticipation growing the lower you drifted upon his skin.

Your lips fluttered a series of soft little jabs across his abdomen, following one mark after the other, until you were lowered to your knees, your hands meekly seeking support against his hips.

“How’s that for a love confession?” You teased, purposely breathing onto the growing bulge in his pants. “Are you moved by any chance?”

Takasugi tilted his head leisurely, the sole sort of answer that came from him being an enigmatic smile that could mean just about anything in the world.

Eager for definitive answers, you hooked your fingers around the elastic of his pants and pulled them enough to reveal the few unkempt hair he had down there. You leaned closer and planted a long-drawn kiss on his pubic bone, all the while staring deep into his quivering emerald orb.

He murmured a curse and balled his fists by his sides, trying his hardest not to grab your hair and use your mouth however he pleased.

That was the thing about him. He could be stubborn and persistent all he wanted, but patience wasn’t a virtue he necessarily possessed.

Ending his torture, you yanked his pants out of the way and set him free. His cock rose up against your chin, its hardened pinkish tip aching to slip between your lips. You licked them in response and took him in your hand, as a rather odd sentiment crossed your mind.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look Santa in they eye again.”

Before Takasugi could protest, you rounded your lips and sucked his head in, your fist complimenting your gesture with a slow pump.

It’d been so long since you’d last done this. The few and sparse times you’d gotten intimate after giving birth, were mostly rushed and straight to the point. No time for seduction. Just hurried endeavors and more hurried goodbyes. You didn’t even know if you could still be the kind of woman capable of stripping a man and pleasuring him, or if the role of a mother had stolen that for good.

But when you gazed at him and found him looking at you with the same lust and adoration, somehow you felt as if you could still be that kind of woman, at least for him.

You thoroughly wet his shaft all the way down to his balls, your mouth lavishing the areas left unattended by your fingers, until the first creamy beads formed around his head. You let go with a plop, wiping the excess saliva with the back of your hand, and then rose back to your feet.

Takasugi cupped your face and slated his mouth over yours with such force, that you stumbled against the dresser, your fingers hopelessly searching for a grip. His body nullified the void between you, coaxing a small surprised moan as his hard cock poked your clothed entrance.

“You don’t need to look at other men.” He panted, swiping his thumb across your chin to make sure you were listening. “Only me.”

You peered at him through half-lidded eyes and parted lips. This wasn’t jealousy, you realized. This was demand, and this was possession, and this was his way of telling you that he’d never looked at any other woman either. Only you.

“Now,” Takasugi prompted, his heavy whisper landing on the shell of your ear, “unless you want that pretty kimono of yours ripped off,” he nibbled, “take it off.”

Part of you wished to put his warning to the test, but the part of you that was flooding your thighs wanted nothing more than to follow his every word. And so you nodded, unaware of your reddened cheeks and irregular breathing, and led him towards the bed as quickly as your legs allowed.

He took a seat right where you’d found him sitting in prior, the intensity of his stare making you feel just as -if not more- naked than he was. He watched you in a way that felt deeply intimate and sacred, but most definitely restless. Reminiscent of how lovers looked at one another and akin to how a child waited for its gift to unwrap itself.

The first instance of cold made you shiver as you stood in front of him and stripped off your kimono. The silky fabric rolled down each shoulder, cascading past the soft curves and hardened peaks of your breasts. You instinctively squeezed them together, and let them bounce away on their own, just like one of those Yoshiwara women would.

His role was that of a watcher no more. He kept stealing strokes at his cock, steadily pumping his length to the sight of you, while semi-wondering if his too was another of his countless fantasies. And when you bent forward just to drop a peck on his lips, he was almost certain this was purely fictitious.

Unable to control his impulses, Takasugi enclosed your entire body in his arms, his mouth licking, nibbling, and sucking every piece of flesh available. Your fingers wove through his hair, tugging at his dark purple strands in the same desperate manner his hands tugged at your garments.

One at a time, the seemingly endless layers of your obi slipped into a pool beneath your feet, permitting him to ravish each new part revealed to him. Heat spread down your stomach, the nest of butterflies residing within set ablaze by his lips alone, as he kissed over the myriad little silver streaks bestowed to you by childbirth.

He worshiped you in a way he’d never done before. His tongue and teeth spelled sweet nothings across your velvety skin as he languidly traversed the distance between your navel and thighs. His tenderness had you biting back one smile after the other, until said smiles turned into hefty puffs and even heftier moans the moment his mouth reached its final destination.

With his right hand stilling your bum against his face, and his left forcing your knee atop the sheets, he soaked up your juices, his nose nuzzling to your clit with each line he drew between your folds. You brought a hand down his cock and began to rub him, your rhythm inevitably falling out of tempo as his tongue continuously flicked over that one sweet spot that had your hips jerking from sheer pleasure.

You wanted to shake him off and make him stop. You didn’t want to finish separately, so why was it that your grip on his hair kept tightening? Why was it that you now held onto him, not with one hand, but with two, greedily seizing every last bit of ecstasy he offered?

A hearty chuckle reverberated within your core, his movements halting at last.

“She’ll really think we are wrestling.” Takasugi hummed seductively, caressing your inner thigh with the back of his fingers. “So? Are you moved by any chance?”

You didn’t have the mind to answer him. Or rather, all thoughts had dissolved past your blissful state of mind, leaving but a feral sort of desire behind. The kind that made your heart race at his haughty expression and your walls pathetically ache for his cock to slip between.

“I need you.” You breathed. “In me, over me, just…”

Before you had the chance to finish your sentence, Takasugi sunk you onto his lap, his lips sealing your words and replacing them with the shallow tanginess of your essence on his tongue. A muffled moan fleshed out a hoarse grunt, as you tied your legs around his torso, squeezing his shaft tight between your bodies’ heat. He bit down your lip and spread your thighs apart, repeatedly groping and kneading your skin.

Your fingers slipped around his cock and glided it across your folds, thoroughly coating it in your fluids and then jerking it against your clit. A sharp exhale sent his head back, providing the opportunity to cover his jawline in feather-light nibbles and kisses.

The bed creaked as he propped your bodies further against it, his knees tucking underneath your butt and creating a makeshift nest.

You gazed into each other’s eyes, and were surprised to see that the look behind his was the same as it was on that night you reunited. A reflection of his soul that was free of all the darkness and despair. A reflection clear enough for you to see yourself in it.

“Seeing anything you fancy?” He asked, though his question held a different meaning.

“A lot, actually.” You smile, gently brushing over his features.

His skin that was hot to the touch. His well-defined jawline. His lush lips. His slim nose. His right flushed cheek. His left flushed cheek. Even the part of him that was enveloped in soggy white bandages. It pained you that he kept that one hidden, when he looked best in his entirety.

“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” You mumbled, slowly rolling the bandages away from his face and pushing his hair back to get a clearer look. “The prettiest man alive.”

“Originality was never your asset.” Takasugi smirked, shrugging your compliment off, for he could never admit his heart’s flutter.

“Then what is?”

“This.”

His lips swept yours in a fervent kiss, giving you no time to react as he pulled off the hairpin and buried himself deep within your heated core. Chests melting together and hips grinding in tandem, each of you striving to become one with the other. Complete. Whole.

Some of his fingers were tangled through a fistful of hair, while others were trapped between your legs, rubbing languid circles around your clit. He wasn’t even trying to bring you over the edge anymore. He just hoped to make you feel a fraction of how good he felt, eliciting one needy moan after another in the process.

Everything tingled and everything burned, and everything felt so overwhelming that somewhere along the line tears came to sour the sweetness of his mouth. This was exactly what you needed. You didn’t know it to complete your sentence before, but this right here was everything you ever needed.

Him.

Once he realized you were quite literally weeping, Takasugi took your face in his hands and held your forehead against his own, his heavy breath whispering soft “I love you’s” only for you to hear. He repeated the same three words and peppered kisses over your cheeks, gently rocking his hips below yours, until your walls clamped around him, swallowing every last drop of his seed.

Even after all that pent up tension was released, neither pulled away. Instead, you were left embracing one another, feeling the rise and fall of your chests as your hearts continuously beat in and out of sync.

His palms were splayed over your back, while his legs extended past the bed’s boarders. He was still inside you, as painfully hard as he were before, though he hesitated to carry on.

You rolled your hips a tiny bit, and found him rolling back. And then you rolled them some more, and he did the same. And when you bounced up, he grabbed your shoulders and flipped you down below him, a lazy smile drawn across his lips as he aligned himself with your entrance.

“At this rate, a second one might be unavoidable.”

The first thing you felt was the ticklish sensation of hair raining down your face, followed by a shift in the weight of your pillow, and lastly, the unmistakable warmth of a palm cushioning your cheek.

You smiled. You didn’t remember waking up, but then again, you couldn’t remember falling asleep either. Your body’s final recollection was that of his and the endless ways he’d made you shudder and quiver.

It was a long night.

“Mmm, up for another round already?” You stretched your arm over what you thought to be Takasugi’s neck. “Didn’t think you were this insatiable, Shinsuke.”

“What’s insatiable, mommy?” An unexpected voice answered, forcing your eyes to pop right open.

With her head sandwiched between the pillow and your arm, Kimiko came to resemble a puffer fish. You gasped, and immediately you jolted away, wrapping the sheets over your presumable naked body. Except, you weren’t as bare as you thought.

Your kimono was securely tied in place, and the stickiness in your thighs seemed gone without a trace. He must have both dressed and cleaned you up, though you had no memory of either incident occurring. Just how hard did you pass out?

“N-nothing.” You sighed in relief.

“Told you she’s hopeless.” Takasugi announced his presence with a scoff.

He was standing on the other side of the room, one knee raised against the door and two arms crossed over his chest. He’d switched to his regular yukata with the addition of his scarf and haori thrown over his neck and shoulders, respectively. It looked as if he was about to go out, and judging from Kimiko’s attire -a pink fleece coat, a pink fluffy beanie, and a pinker pair of mittens-, the same could be said about her.

“Mommy, can I play with papa outside?” Kimiko sat up on her knees.

“Train.” He corrected.

“Train.” She repeated. “Papa said he’ll take me on a training arc. Can I go? Please, please, please?”

“If you promise to be careful and listen to his every word,” you sighed, “you can. But don’t ruin your clothes, and no being late for lunch either. It’s Christmas!”

“Mhm, mhm!” She nodded, though you doubted any of what you said had registered. “Bye, mommy! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

Kimiko waved you a quick goodbye and ran to Takasugi. She tugged at his sleeve excitedly, only to be dismissed with a mere “Wait for me outside.” In seconds, she was gone, leaving you alone in the room with him.

He pulled himself away from the door and paced towards the bed, while you propped yourself onto your elbows and stressed over mundane things, such as the potential stench of your breath and your unkempt morning appearance. Perhaps you could excuse yourself and go grab a hairbrush, a toothbrush, or something. Or maybe-

He was right. You worried too much.

Without being aware of it, you repeatedly ran your fingers through your hair. He didn’t seem to notice, or rather, he was more preoccupied inspecting the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. A letter from the Kiheitai? A threat from an enemy? You couldn’t discern anything past his furrowed brows, and you didn’t dare to ask until he flipped it around and held it over your head.

“Uncanny.” He said, pointing between the “you” in Kimiko’s drawing and the “you” that was currently gritting her teeth at him.

“Yeah, well, be careful not to get exorcised out there, then!”

He folded the paper back inside his yukata and let a mischievous snicker accompany him on his way to the door. Temporarily, you put your annoyance aside and called out his name, forcing him to glance over his shoulder.

“Did you mean it? About us having a second one, I mean.”

The answer to your question came in the form of a cryptic smile and undecipherable words.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

Takasugi stayed a total of seven days in Edo. During his mornings, he’d train with Kimiko and take her on these field trips that would last for hours and leave her utterly exhausted. On days when the snow was too thick to traverse, they held snowball fights -that they insisted on calling “advanced arctic guerrilla warfare- in the backyard, or settled for playing their infamous “lego wars” in the living room.

At times, you’d join for a more casual board game session, that almost always ended with Takasugi getting irritated over his unlucky dice rolls and Kimiko shamelessly cheering for her victories.

Come evening, he read her stories from the book he’d gotten her, and after all was said and done, he’d lock the door and show you the sincerity of his intentions. He never actually admitted to it, but you could see it in both his eye and the loving way he rested his palm upon your stomach. This was no mistake. He wanted more, and you had no qualms about giving that to him.

The day of his departure came sooner than you’d anticipated. Takechi and Bansai showed up at your door, insisting to escort him back to the ship, but he’d insisted on going solo. And he would have done so if you hadn’t been stubborn enough to tag along.

You walked side by side for what felt like both hours and seconds, until the docks emerged οn the horizon and the bitter time for goodbyes had come. You pressed your fingers against his free hand, his right one busied with gifts you’d gotten for the ones among his crew he deemed family. He stopped and let you lace your fingers with his for one final time.

No words were said, and the two of you went back to idly pacing through the frozen streets, your next pause being right outside his ship. It was dark and no people were there. It was just you and him, and the pale moonlight, just as it was hundreds, if not thousands, of nights ago.

You brought out a small picture of Kimiko and handed it to him so that he wouldn’t forget her face should it take him too long to return. He accepted it and tucked it inside his own pocket. And then he took a thorough look at you from head to toe, gently letting go of your hand.

“There’s a festival later this month.” Takasugi said. “Nothing’s set in stone, but a chance to meet with an informant might arise.”

“And?” You didn’t dare to interpret his words the way you wanted to.

“And that little brat said she hasn’t had Yakisoba in a while. Wouldn’t hurt to share some with her. And with you.”

“How kind of you to include me.” You said jokingly. “I’m sure she’d love that.”

He smiled ever so slightly and searched through his yukata, pulling out the last thing you’d expect him to carry; a small piece of half-plucked mistletoe. “Kimiko gave this to me. I believe you know what it’s for.”

A subtle blush bloomed across your cheeks. “She watches way too many of those tacky Christmas specials.”

“It is tacky, isn’t it.” Takasugi flicked the mistletoe between his fingers, eventually tossing it into the waters ahead. “Besides, I don’t need one to do this.”

His lips crashed into yours as suddenly as the waves beneath crashed into the shore. He kissed you with the entirety of his breath and soul, receiving equal in return. It was a “goodbye,” and it was a “forgive me,” though mostly, it was a “wait for me a little longer, for I cannot wait to have you in my arms again.”

The warmth of a certainty that lingered long after he’d left and his ship had faded into another snowflake among the many dancing through that night.

[lilac-5ky]

To Bake A Cake (Takasugi x Birthday Fem!Reader)

A/N: Last month was my birthday and I decided to write myself a birthday fic including my beloved, but due to certain annoying family situations, it took me ages to finish ;-; But it's finally done, and voila, I decided to post it even though my birthday was over 2 weeks ago lmao.

Plot: After a run-in with Sakamoto, Takasugi realizes it's your birthday, and decides to grant you a wish. Who could have thought such wish involved whisking and baking?

guest starring tatsuma and mutsu because i realized ive pretty much never included them in anything.

Warning: Comedic fluff with lots of smut :p

(here's a ss gif because im too much a chicken to dive in the final arc just yet ;-; but he looks fine af and ;-;)

“Takasugi?”

If there is one thing Takasugi Shinsuke has learned during his rather unpleasant sojourn in life, it’s that the sound of his name seldom accompanies a blessing. Everywhere he went, disaster followed, and this place was no exception.

Be it at Edo Mart or a terminal millions of miles away from Earth, a world renowned terrorist should never even dream of setting foot inside a tobacco store with such abandon. Still that was exactly what he did, and now, he was left with no other choice, but to face the consequences of his poor decision making.

With the smoke still in hand, Takasugi hurried out of the store. A head-on confrontation in the middle of the crowd wouldn’t do, and so he kept on walking, until the voice of his pursuer faded into existence. Had he misheard? Could it be that he’d grown paranoid enough to be chased by illusions?

Bewildered, he packed the tobacco inside his yukata, when a disturbingly familiar cackle reached his ears.

“Damn, I can’t believe it was actually you.” The silhouette of a man dressed in a red duster and a pair of dark circular shades said. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you avoided me.”

This was far worse than a rogue bounty hunter, space fighter or Naraku assassin catching whiff of him. Something he dreaded more than all three combined.

“What if I was?” Takasugi taunted.

“That’s not how you greet an old friend, Takasugi. Especially when we haven’t spoken in years!” Sakamoto pouted, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “My letters haven’t reached the Kihentai?”

“They haven’t.” He replied in a stern tone, ignoring his friend’s comment.

In reality, Takasugi had gotten his hands on every single letter Sakamoto sent his way, though he never answered back any of them. That’s not to say he never tried to, more like he was incapable of doing so. What would he write? What was there for him to say when there was nothing piecing the two together?

Idle small talk was never his thing. He couldn’t just go back to the time when the four of them chattered about everything and nothing in particular all at once. The bonds of the past belonged in the depths of his mind, along with the memories they shared. No matter how much he yearned to traverse that limit, the only road for him was the one lying ahead. He had no time for distractions.

“That’s a shame.” Sakamoto said, buying into it. “Have you met with the others then? I hear Zura is in the same field you are.”

“Same field, entirely different agenda.” He scoffed. “Let’s just say Zura’s more like a prickle pointing at my side rather than an ally.”

“I find that hard to believe. Wasn’t he the one to always clean after your mess?”

“We’re old enough to be cleaning after our own messes. Times change, Tatsuma. I’m sure you know that best.” He sighed, taking a few steps further away from the crowd, and hopefully, away from this discussion.

“People don’t. When I look at you, I only see the same idiot who put his life on the line for a lost war. Same goes for the others.”

By the looks of it, getting rid or him wouldn’t be this easy. Even when Takasugi walked away, Sakamoto kept trailing after him, until the two made it past the quiet corner of a souvenir shop. As if anyone would want a memento to remember this god-forsaken land by. Other than a safe heaven for criminals and merchants to conduct their business in discretion, this planet offered next to nothing. The lack of sustainable tourism was enough proof for that.

At the back of the store, lied a handful of vacant chairs, one of which Sakamoto sat on and another of which Takasugi rejected. He had no particular intention to get all cozy by his side, not when the cold metallic wall felt far more welcoming.

“Was this supposed to come off as an insult or a compliment?” Takasugi sneered.

“Just an old friend’s insight.” Sakamoto chuckled, stretching his limbs. “I take it you haven’t been talking with Kintoki either.”

“I haven’t.” He admitted, the last time the two of them conversed -or, rather squabbled- still vivid in his brain.

“In that case, why don’t we plan a reuni- ”

“I’m busy.” He cut him off.

“But I never said when-”

“I’ll be busy.”

The last thing he needed was a get-together with these three idiots. Running into one of them was bad enough on its own, be it the lesser evil. Even if part of him wanted to gather around a campfire, tossing stories and insults as if nothing ever soured between them, there was no way he’d never admit it. Not to himself, and certainly, not to him.

“I should get going.” Takasugi said, looking to end this little misfortune, when Sakamoto jumped before him.

“Wait! I didn’t tell you why I was here in the first place.” Sakamoto exclaimed, revealing a rather large box from behind his back, one that Takasugi had failed to notice in prior.

“I don’t remember asking.” He smirked in an attempt to hide his curiosity.

“I was gonna have this delivered at your ship, but since you are here, you should take it.” He said, urging him to grab the parcel. “It’s for Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Takasugi asked, visibly intrigued. He was aware the two of you shared the same beginnings in life, but he would’ve never guessed you’d kept contact after the war.

“Takasugi, don’t tell me you don’t remember your own girlfriend’s birthday.” Sakamoto said in a semi-accusatory tone.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He objected, the latter part of the sentence having yet to register.

He’d rather take his other eye out than let others define your relationships as that of a boyfriend and a girlfriend, but at the same time, Takasugi was unsure of what to actually introduce you as. The woman he slept with seemed too shallow, the woman he loved too grandiose. Perhaps the term partner was the closest at doing you justice. Still, titles meant nothing when he knew precisely what you were, and that was his.

His and only his.

“Is she not? Wow, then I suppose it’s not too late for me to shoot my shot.” Sakamoto declared with a grin.

“Not unless you want to get shot first.”

At his threat, Sakamoto couldn’t help but burst into laughter, nearly dropping the box to the ground. Which he would have done, had it not been for Takasugi successfully catching it midair. It was even heavier than it looked, he noted as he balanced it against his hip.

“I was just kidding! Well, not entirely, but I don’t suppose you plan on sharing, right?”

His silence was the only answer he could spare. A merchant should know better than to go after things that were never up for sale in the first place.

“Besides, I’m happy things worked out between you two. Y/N was a real knockout back home. I never worried about her hitting it off with someone, but you finding someone who can put up with your grumpiness long term? That’s amazing!” He went on, following his words with another of his distinct cackles.

Takasugi could feel himself getting increasingly irked with every word Sakamoto spewed, even when deep down he could see his point. It was true that he wasn’t the world’s easiest person and that you’d endured hell by choosing to stay around a guy like him. Maybe to others it looked as if you were the one who needed him, considering how you always clung onto him, but in reality, it was the other way around. You were the only one who could make these dark clouds disperse, the only one he truly needed.

“Remember how just about half the girls were in love with you, yet the second you looked their way they ran away? Or how you made that girl cry right after she confessed? Poor thing, she even made you a card! Or-or, how every time we went down to Yoshiwara, no girl managed to spend an entire night with you without-”

Just when he was about to mellow down a bit, Sakamoto started speaking again, his laughter constantly breaking his own sentences in half.

“Will you keep listing more unpleasant incidents?” Takasugi asked through gritted teeth, finding it impossible to maintain his composure.

“No, of course not! I was just pointing out how you seem to have found your one true match. Really puts the whole ‘there’s someone out there for everyone’ thing into perspective.” Sakamoto grinned earnestly.

“Then you are lucky more than half the population tends to your standards.” He mumbled, as he lowered his gaze towards the box.

Why did he not know it was your birthday today? No matter how busy he was, he couldn’t have possibly forgotten, unless he never knew about it in the first place.

Come think of it, you first met amidst the war. A merchant’s daughter with great prospects and an even greater future awaiting her, choosing to fund a war she wasn’t part of, and it was all because of him. Because ever since you met, you kept trying to earn his attention through whatever means necessary.

He remembered how persistent you were, suggesting he owed you so much as a mere talk when you’d burnt all this money on his cause. At first, he saw no reason for you to get too friendly with one another. All you were was a friend of a friend, and so, he’d brushed your advances, blatantly stating that no amount of yen was enough to buy him. However, you weren’t disheartened. You kept asking him to name his price over and over again, until he finally caved in and took you on a crappy date by the shore.

Truthfully, he sucked at dating, back then and right now. The right words never came easily, and getting involved with someone during such a crucial point of his life was a hassle. But even when he’d chosen to maintain his silence, idly tossing rocks into the sea, you’d chosen to grab a stone of your own, and join him without a single complaint. You’d stayed by his side until the awkward silence became comfortable, until the moon gave way to the sun, until your nights were filled with hasty kisses and unbottled chuckles.

And then the war came to an end. All survivors either returned home, or found a new place to call that, but he wasn’t among those. Perhaps he never survived that war, perhaps he never left the battlefield. He kept on dragging the horrors of the past with him, but worse, he kept dragging you along.

You were the person he valued more than his life, that was for certain. Every smile, every kiss, every night, even your own future, you’d given that all without asking for anything in return. But why was it that you’d kept something so trivial a secret? Why was it that he had no actual recollection of you ever celebrating a damn occasion by his side? Why was it that he felt as if the times you’d cried outnumbered the ones you’d smiled?

“But, Takasugi, you should know better than to disappoint her.” Sakamoto interrupted his thoughts. “Between you and me, women really do care about birthdays and anniversaries more than we do. You should also get her a little something while you still have time. Usually something shiny or pretty cuts it, but if push comes to shove, then you could always push or shove something else into her-”

Before Takasugi had the chance to truly grasp his friend’s explicit hints, a punch came raining down on him, sending his glasses flying and his head to meet the floor.

“I thought I heard a dog barking.” The voice of a woman spoke in a harsh tone, her presence revealed behind the man’s fallen body.

Long brown hair concealed by a straw hat. Fair complexion and cunning eyes. He’d only seen this woman once before, though such formidable persona was unforgettable.

“Mu-Mutsu?” Sakamoto squeaked.

“Didn’t you promise to stay put, Sakamoto? Do I really need to tie a leash around your neck?” She asked, rubbing the point of her shoe against his throat.

“Wh—what are you talking about? We were only catching up!” Sakamoto cried, attempting to lift her leg with both hands.

“Seems like your second-in-command is far more perceptive than you are, Tatsuma.” Takasugi smirked. “Too bad she’s wasting her potential. Although it’s not too late to reconsider.”

“I’m afraid I see no profit in terrorism.” Mutsu scorned, kicking Sakamoto’s palms off her while he rolled to the side in relief. “Besides, who knows what will become of this idiot, should he stay unsupervised long enough?”

“Fair enough. Although you should take care of yourself. Idiocy is highly contagious.” He said, lightly stepping over a writhing Sakamoto.

“After all these years, I’d like to think I’ve grown immune.” She replied, following his lead.

“There are no bigger idiots than the ones who claim they aren’t. Mix it up with someone like them once, and it’s already too late to go back.”

“Experience speaking?”

“Something like that.”

“Gu-guys, can you not have this discussion on top of me?” Sakamoto begged, trying his best to retract his hands.

With a light chuckle, Takasugi obliged to his friend’s wishes, turning his back on the two of them. “Well then. I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Oi, Takasugi, don’t forget about what I said! Make sure to-Ouch!”

Once he’d distanced himself from the scene, Takasugi stopped a final time to look over his shoulder. Mutsu kept making use of Sakamoto’s hair as if it were a mop, sweeping just about every piece of dirt, until his pleas disappeared along with the two of them behind the crowds.

“It really was good seeing you, Tatsuma.” Takasugi smiled, his steps heavier than before as he marched in the opposite direction.

“I thought you said you’d buy some smoke before we take off, not harvest an entire field yourself.”

At the sound of the door opening, you set your book down. You’d lost count of how many pages you’d flipped up until Takasugi decided to make it back to his room. For all you knew, hours, or even days had gone by. There was no real telling in the vastness of space. Everything moved at its own pace.

Still, what he did was unforgivable. Subjecting you to the dullness of going through the same book over and over again, while he was out there, most likely caught up in some incredibly fun story you’d missed on.

“If only.” Takasugi stated in a dry tone, closing the door behind him. “Instead, I was made into a messenger by an old friend of yours.”

“An old friend of mine?” You repeated, propping your jaw against your elbows.

There were little to no candidates for him to meet up in space. With the majority of your friends being either at odds with him or straight up unable to afford such a trip, the obvious answer would be Sakamoto. Not because he didn’t belong in either category, but because on a day like this, he was the only with a reason to seek you out.

Your suspicions were confirmed the moment Takasugi presented you with a rather hefty looking box, one that he set onto the floor before making his way towards the window. This definitely was the work of your childhood friend, you concluded, though you couldn’t resist playing dumb with your guesses.

“Hmm… could it be Gintoki?”

A thin cloud of smoke spiraled from his direction, the silence serving as response.

“Zura then?”

More smoke.

“Nobume?” You insisted.

“Just how many old friends do you have?” He stated, rather than asked.

“Then… Shige Shige?”

“Since when you’ve gotten friendly with the Shogun?”

“Since you’ve been taking hours to shop for tobacco.” You taunted, finding enjoyment in your little back and forth.

“Charming.” He smirked, at last turning around. “Tatsuma asked me to bring this to you.”

“Then I guess I have no right to nag you any longer. I wonder what it is!” You gleefully exclaimed in a singing voice, while your hands fumbled with the tape.

Ever since the two of you were mere brats back in Tosa, you’d come up with this weird tradition of finding the wackiest birthday gifts for one another. From vagina scented candles for your eleventh birthday, to a calendar full of inappropriate seasonal pictures of Tamo-san for his twelfth, each year the competition grew more severe than before, with nothing but the sky serving as the limit.

Your anticipation grew bigger over each tape that came off, and you could tell you weren’t the only one. A keen orb of green kept following your every movement while its owner timed each step of his with another puff of smoke. To be fair, he was doing a great job concealing his interest, and if it weren’t for his pipe nearly dropping off his lips at the sight of your gift, then you wouldn’t have known.

Admittedly, it took more time for you to realize what the item in hand was, than for Takasugi to recover from his rapid coughing. The two circular objects at the base, the pink colored mushroomy tip, the vein-like lines engraved all around… Judging by its size alone, it resembled more that of a greatsword than of a sex toy. It was ridiculously big, both in length and girth.

“Is that…?” Takasugi asked, not daring to finish his question.

Picking the dildo up, you failed close your palms around its head. This was definitely not meant for humans, or, at least, not one of your physique.

“I lost.” You admitted, realizing there was no way to ever surpass him now. “I actually lost.”

“There is a note.” He pointed back inside the box.

“Oh? You are right. Let’s see,” you paused to unfold the paper, “ ‘Dear Y/N, I hope this letter finds you in good health, and I wish you a very happy birth-Autumn, from the bottom of my heart.” You quickly glanced up at Takasugi, though he didn’t say a word.

That was a close one!

“That’s quite courteous of him!” You awkwardly chuckled.

“Anyways, ‘In the past month we managed to expand our business in Rakuyo, and this is one of our first prototypes. With the majority of Yato warriors scattered around the galaxy, their women tend to wallow in loneliness and frustration. We hope that with time, they can learn to open their hearts, along with their legs to us.’ Typical Tatsuma.” You chuckled, while Takasugi scoffed.

“Hmm, according to him, its name is ‘Master Sword 69’ and-oh, the tip is detachable and, if you insert batteries, it also works as a foot massager! That’s thoughtful.”

“Is that all?” He sighed.

You unfolded the rest of the letter, finding a postscript right at the end.

“‘P.S. I sincerely hope Takasugi is not as big of a bore in bed as he used to be.’ Oh, Tatsuma.” You giggled, unable to contain yourself. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Idiots never change.” Takasugi mumbled as he returned to the window.

“But Shinsuke, what’s that thing he said about you being a boring lover? Is there anything I should know?” You asked, not bothering to suppress your amusement.

“Nothing in particular.”

“Oh come on, I bet there is a great story behind this.” You insisted, only to be treated with more silence.

You didn’t need to take a look at his face to know he was sulking. With his eye narrowing to a slit, and the pouty expression of his lips, you’d grown plenty familiar with that side of his. What others saw as menacing, you only saw as absolutely adorable, to the point of you refusing to spend another minute apart.

You really had missed him.

“It’s fine. No need to tell me.” You mumbled as you pressed your head against the nape of his neck.

He was insistent on facing the opposite direction, but you didn’t mind. As long as he gave you the freedom to wrap your arms around his torso, to take in on his wonderfully intoxicating scent, to pepper every inch of bare skin you could find in kisses, then it was all fine by you.

“You plan on using that?” He eventually asked, huffing some of the smoke your way.

“Not if I can help it. I’d still choose to use you over anyone and anything else.” You cooed, planting your lips near the shell of his ear. “Only you can make me feel this way.”

“And what would that way be?” He asked in a gentler tone.

“Just, you know.” You left a peck upon his cheek. “The best kind of way.”

Although he didn’t mean for you to see it, a tiny smile broke through his grave expression as he caved in to your touch. That was Takasugi for you. No matter the sharpness of his eye, and the shrewdness of his words, the way his free hand cupped over your own revealed all you needed to know. From the moment you first took hold of each other, to this moment here, he remained as enamored with you as he was back then.

The two of you stayed like that for quite a while, until Takasugi drew his kiseru away from his lips to store it inside his clothes.

“What do you want?” He asked, circling his thumb over your knuckles.

“Hmm?” You tilted your head.

“Is there anything you want for your birthday?”

“You knew?” You yelped, letting go of him at once.

“You take me for an idiot?” Takasugi inquired as he turned around.

“….No.” You sighed. Switching out ‘birthday’ for autumn had really done it.

It wasn’t as if you actively tried to keep your birthday a secret, but with the war and him turning to terrorism, there was never really an appropriate moment to mention it. You couldn’t simply show up one day with cake and balloons and surprise your own self, and being the one to casually announce it didn’t feel quite right either. In the end, you pushed this occasion to the back of your brain, the sole reminder of which became Sakamoto’s annual presents.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked with genuine concern.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that,” you lowered your head “I didn’t want to weigh you down with another responsibility. I know how exhausting everything is for you, I see it every single day when you collapse in bed without saying a word. I don’t want to be the one to add more to that, nor do I wish to pressure you into buying me a gift or pulling a surprise on me. Just getting to spend my every day with you is enough for me.”

“Y/N.” His voice commanded. “Our lives so far have been filled with more sorrows than I care to count. My eye has seen more horrors than I wish to remember. Do you really think that your birthday would add to either?”

“N-no…” You admitted, shying away from his gaze.

“Then I find no reason for you to be keeping that from me. We’ve each carried the other’s sorrows long enough. Let us carry a joy for once.”

He was right. If only you’d just mentioned it to him before, then you wouldn’t have to embarrass yourself like this in front of him. It was only right that he knew, especially when you’d never missed the chance to surprise him on his own birthday.

“So tell me. Is there anything you want?” Takasugi asked again.

“Are you serious about the ‘anything’ part?” You smiled in mischief, quickly snapping out of your own dejection.

Arching an eyebrow, Takasugi took a step closer until you stood eye to eye. You couldn’t tell whether he was trying to read your mind or intimidate you into giving up on your idea, but either way, you both knew it was too late for him to go back on his offer.

“You’ll really do anything I ask?”

He was most likely regretting ever suggesting that, though he didn’t show it. Instead, he merely nodded, perhaps his curiosity winning him over a second time.

“…Sure.”

This was all the confirmation you needed. “Then, follow me!”

“What kind of wish fulfilling involves a kitchen?” Takasugi asked the second you set foot in the ship’s kitchen.

Out of all the shenanigans you’d gotten him mixed up in, out of every bad idea he’d suffered through, this one would come to top them all. But it was your birthday, and he’d been so generous as to present you with an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that you weren’t too keen on brushing off. Even if he protested, even if he tried to claw his way out, you’d make sure that by the time the two of you left the room, it’d be with your objective in hand; a cake.

“Shinsuke, what is the first thing you think about when you hear the word ‘birthday’?”

“Death.” He bluntly stated. “It’s a reminder that your time is running out.”

“Weren’t you the one who spoke against sharing nothing but sorrows?” You argued in disbelief. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grim, but that was beyond your expectations. “Let’s just skip to the point. A birthday without cake is no birthday at all.”

His expression had turned completely vacant, to the point of you being able to hear imaginary crickets chirping in the background.

“My wish is for you to bake me a cake!”

Even more chirping.

Had he not heard you? You weren’t too sure about that, though once he turned to the door, you realized he’d not only been listening to your every word, but was already planning his escape.

“You said you’d-ugh, do anything! You can’t-ugh, leave!” You exclaimed as you threw yourself to the door, blocking the exit with your body.

Just like he had no intention of honoring his word, you had no intention of letting him go either. A direct confrontation would result in your defeat, but when you managed to get hold of the door’s key, there was little he could do. It was game over. At least for now.

“You know, this won’t be enough to stop me.” Takasugi sneered, watching as you stuffed the key inside your kimono. “There are many ways for me to get that key back.”

“I’d like to see you try. The only way outside these holy grounds is through my satisfaction.”

At your declaration, he couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow.

“Now, let’s get to work!” You said as you paced further inside the room, a groaning Takasugi following closely.

Truth is, you’d only been in the kitchen a handful times before. The Kiheitai already possessed designated personnel to handle everyone’s meals, and unless either of you wanted to snack on something specific, -namely, Takasugi on his beloved beverage- there was no need to spend any time in here, meaning, you had no idea where to find anything.

Starting with the fridge seemed like a reasonable idea, you thought to yourself as you tied your hair into a high ponytail. Eggs, butter and, thankfully, heavy cream. You laid everything on top of the counter before making your way around the drawers, checking the final ingredients off your list. So far, so good.

The real struggle came with finding the appropriate utensils. Bowls and cutlery were easy enough to locate. You even got yourself a light-pink apron in the process, yet no matter how hard you looked, the mixer was nowhere to be found.

“Where is the mixer?” You asked once you’d checked just about every cabinet.

“How am I supposed to know? What kind of faction do you think I’m running?” He snapped, refusing to help in the slightest.

Disappointed, you were about to call it quits when you remembered seeing a whisk somewhere in there, which wasn’t quite the same, but if a certain glaring samurai were to assist, nothing was impossible.

“There’s a whisk!” You announced, presenting it to him.

More cricket sounds. He looked at it as if he’d never seen another.

“You really haven’t cooked anything in your life, have you?”

“I have.” He lied.

“What was it?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Onigiri.”

“That doesn’t make you any less of a culinary virgin, Shinsuke. I bet Zura was the one to handle the majority of the work while all you did was boss him around.” You accused, waving the whisk at his face.

“Not a lie.” He smirked.

“It’s a wonder people follow you when you refuse to get your hands dirty.” You mumbled. “But fear not! Today, your cherry gets popped. As long as we are in here, you are no Kiheitai leader, but a rookie whose wish is my com-no, my wish is your command” You corrected. “Understood?”

Although evidently irritated, Takasugi ended up agreeing to your suggestion, going so far as to accept the whisk from your hands.

“Perhaps you could call me senpai while you’re at it-”

“Not a chance, birthday girl.” He interrupted.

“Fine, fine. Let’s start with the base.”

One by one, you tossed the ingredients in the bowl, while he mixed them together with just about zero enthusiasm. He was such a handful!

“You know, it will take forever if you do it like that.” You commented, slipping behind his back and then claiming his hand with yours. “Let me show you.”

Propping your chin on top of his shoulder, you started to vigorously shake his hand back and forth around the bowl, making sure that everything got mixed thoroughly.

“If you don’t do it this way, the ingredients won’t mesh well together and there will be lumps of flour.” You explained, unaware of how rather than paying attention to your words, Takasugi kept staring down your lips.

As he got the hang of it, his hand began moving on its own. “That’s it! Keep it up, and-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you took notice in how close the two of you were. With your bodies pressed together and his lips curling into a lazy smile, you forgot all about what it was that you wanted to say.

“Y-you can handle things from here.” You stuttered, pulling yourself away. “I’ll go bring the pan.”

Even after all these years, it was so easy for him to get under your skin. One look of his, and your mind was already filling up with intrusive thoughts that involved him using his hands on something else. He’d always been skilled with his fingers, be it at fighting, cooking, or…

Get your shit together, you scolded yourself, repeatedly patting your palms flat against your burning cheeks.

“What’s taking you so long?” His voice queried from the other side of the room.

“Coming!”

Once the pan was in the oven and the timer set, the time for the the filling came. Neither your supplies nor your skills allowed much room for creativity and so, you decided to keep things simple. Some heavy cream and sugar would do just fine, but even for that, his help was needed.

“Can you do this for me?” You brought a clean bowl forth.

“Is that a question, or a command?” Takasugi asked.

“A little bit of both.” You smiled as he took the bowl from your hands. “Do it harder than before. You’ll know it’s ready when peaks start to form.”

It was nice to see him take things more seriously. For someone who was fixed on destroying the world, to be baking cakes certainly was out of character, but at the same time, the image felt somewhat natural to you.

Back when the outcome of the war had yet to be defined, and the two of you had the freedom to dream, you’d pictured such a life countless of times. Instead of sneaking around between stranded beaches and hollow willow trees, you’d be greeting each other under the same roof. He’d nag about the different ways Gintoki -or another of his subordinates- got on his nerves that day, while you’d be setting the table, welcoming his every complaint with a warm smile.

Then after you’d finish dining, you’d move onto the couch under the pretense of watching some crappy show none of you cared about, just he could snake his arm around your shoulders. And at the first yawn, you’d lay side by side on the same bed where you’d be free to cradle his face in your hands and fawn over how beautiful your reflection appeared in his emerald green eyes. You’d whisper ‘I love you’s’ to each other with no fear for tomorrow, knowing that this life would not be taken away from you.

The Takasugi in front of you resembled that of your dreams a lot, except this one kept hissing in frustration at his sleeves. No matter how many times he rolled them out of the way, they insisted to fall inside the bowl, cutting his movements short. With a smile, you placed your hand on top of his. This version of him was perfect enough already.

“Need some help?” You teased, lifting one of his sleeves out of the way.

“I’m fine.” He didn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

You chuckled at his refusal. He was always like that, as if it would kill for him to receive the aid of anyone. If he could bring this world down by himself, then you had no doubt, he’d choose to do that without speaking to another soul. Be it his burdens or his sleeves, unless you forcefully lifted them for him, then he’d insist on doing things the hard way.

With some his frustration evaporating, Takasugi managed to bring the cream to its appropriate state; not too fluffy and not too thick either. You let go off his sleeves and he let go of the whisk, turning the bowl around so to inspect it properly.

“Looks good.” He deducted.

You nodded in agreement. “Let’s see…”

Dipping the tip of a spoon in, you took a taste of your creation. He really had a knack for this. It tasted wonderful!

“Mmm, it’s sweet.” You exclaimed, licking it clean. “Want some?”

For a moment, you saw him contemplate his answer before reaching out. You took it as an invitation, and so you dipped the spoon back in, though you never had the chance to deliver it. Instead, your hand was caught mid-air by his, with your unsuspecting lips falling victim to his own. You gasped, nearly letting go off the spoon as you closed your eyes, finding a taste far more wonderful than any cream you’d ever tasted.

“Indeed.” He breathed. “Very sweet.”

With his fingers pressing at your wrist, Takasugi pulled you closer, until you landed in his arms, and until the thought of holding onto that stupid spoon vanished behind a loud clang. He pressed a kiss upon your lips and then you pressed another, your tongues tugging and swirling in imperfect sync, as you both felt the heat rise in between your bodies. You wanted more, and he was more than willing to take from you.

It was only when you felt his palms dropping to your bum that you realized what he was trying to do. That bastard was way too damn good at this.

“Seducing me won’t work.” You whispered and he chuckled, not at your words, but at how you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him.

“It won’t?” He taunted, fully aware of the answer. Whatever it was that he was doing, you had no power to resist.

Without breaking apart from your mouth, Takasugi carried you all the way towards the closest unoccupied flat surface he could find. A cold sensation trickled down your spine as you made contact with the hard metal. Not in a million years would you ever think that you’d be doing this with him, yet there you were, spreading your legs wide open for him to nest in between.

His arm remained hooked around your waist when all of a sudden you felt him stop. You opened your eyes along with your lips, sheepishly staring at him with nothing but desire, of which he took advantage. His thumb trailed the outline of your jawline before swiping over your bottom lip. Without thinking twice, you puckered up your lips against it, pressing a peck so gentle as his smile. God, he was so beautiful in that moment, words he stole right out your mouth.

Letting go of you completely, Takasugi lowered himself until his knees met with the floor and the tips of his fingers with your thighs. You glanced down at him, watching as he balanced your knees upon his shoulders, his own gaze solely fixated at your entrance.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You asked, your voice coming out like a croak.

“You wanted to order me around, did you not?” His breath tickled as he moved his head closer. “Look where my hands are now, Y/N.” He demanded, squeezing at your skin. “And my lips.” He went on, leaving each thigh with a kiss. “And my tongue.”

A sharp inhale got caught up in your throat as you felt his wet tongue lap over your clothed slit, the feeling only amplified by the way his eye bore into yours.

“Go ahead and order.” He mumbled, running his tongue along your lips, lest you weren’t convinced already. “How should I use them?”

You had a hard time distinguishing between dream and reality right now. While he always made sure you got to have as much fun as he did, he’d never been this accommodating before, and in a semi-public space, least of all places. You barely believed in your eyes, but then again, the dripping sensation between your legs told no lies. This was all very much reality, and you wouldn’t let it go to waste.

“D-do that again,” you stammered. “I like it when you tease me.”

A faint chuckle followed your bashful confession, it feeding directly into his pride.

In less than a heartbeat, Takasugi complied with your demand. With his fingers squeezing lower, his mouth pressing firmer, and his tongue languidly moving across every inch of your folds, he left no spot untouched. You tried to look down, though your apron stood in the way of getting a clear view. All you saw was a head of purple peak underneath, and that certainly was not enough.

“I wanna see.”

Hands slid around your waist, his eye being the first to undress your body. One by one, the knots of your kimono and apron came undone, bringing both fabrics to simply drape over your bare figure, a sight not even he could resist.

Rather than going back down, his fingers snuck past your garment and onto your breast, trailing your hardened peak all the way to the soft curve of your skin. You smiled. After all, you loved that kind of attention from him.

Once he’d had enough, he returned to his knees, both of you having gained sufficiently better view of each other. You placed your feet atop his shoulders, prodding him to get back into business. A single finger hooked around the elastic of your underwear, with him seeking confirmation in your features. Perhaps you could get used to this compliant side of his.

“Take them off.” You instructed without hesitation, wiggling your hips to accommodate him.

The moment he rid of that final restraint, Takasugi plunged forward, his impatience showing every step of the way. If it were any other occasion, he’d have about zero qualm to push you down and take you however he pleased, but for now, you could tell he was doing his absolute best to remain tame for the sake of honoring his word.

Tentatively, he rolled his tongue outside his mouth and onto your entrance, his fingers spreading your lips for him to pepper the area with short kitten licks. You sighed, little by little feeling your clit swelling up under his touch. This was nowhere near what you’d imagined when you first walked ins that kitchen, but now, it was everything you craved.

“Give me your hand.” You asked, extending your own in his direction.

His hand found yours midway as he directed his attention to your fingers. You weren’t too sure whether he’d catch your drift or not, but it was worth a try. With your index, you traced the inside of his palm in a straight line, pressing firmly at the end of it before repeating the same gesture from the top. Not too gentle, but not too rough either. Just how you wanted to be touched.

In the same manner your finger brushed his skin, his flattened tongue came to glide over your slit only to stop short at your clit, following the same route all over again. For a second time, you sighed, your arousal gradually building with each stroke. The familiarity between you allowed no room for mistakes; he knew exactly what you needed.

“You taste better than any damn cake in this world.” Takasugi commented for the first time in a while, closing his lips over your clit.

“D-don’t insult our cake!” You felt him smirk at your objection, his teeth barely grazing over your sensitive spot, be it enough to make you moan.

“Want me to go a bit harder?” He asked, lazily swirling over your clit.

“I suppose you can.” You answered, hiding your embarrassment behind a pout. Years later and his effect on you had not worn off.

Lacing his fingers with yours, Takasugi began to follow a pattern of his own, the kind to set all your pretty sounds free. With his one hand rubbing at your thigh, he made sure you got to watch your clit disappear into his mouth, each kiss of his leaving it wetter than the previous one.

“F-fuck…”

You could feel every bump of his tongue massage your cluster of nerves, the warmth of his mouth making it feel as if he was attempting to rekindle a fire in you, one that had all but been extinguished. He wanted you to burn, just so he could burn with you. Just so you could feel every single emotion his tongue failed to describe engraved upon your body.

In no time, he had you moaning nothing but the sound of his name, occasionally no more than the sharp consonants of his initials coming out. It felt so good. Too good. He kept flicking and curling, while you kept tossing and turning, your hips squirming away while your fingers gripped closer, at his fingers, at his hair, anywhere you could find, anywhere you could anchor in.

Muffled sounds mixed in with your cries, as Takasugi kept gushing over you, his saliva and your fluids streaming down your throbbing holes. But the lewd sound of your squelching under his tongue, came only second to the far more obscene expression of his face. He looked so messed up, with his disheveled hair and bandages dropping over his forehead. So messed up that part of you couldn’t help but want to mess him up even further.

You weren’t even thinking straight anymore. Your judgment was completely clouded by primal instincts and sheer pleasure. All you knew was that you wanted him, that you’d spent every breathing moment of your life wanting and yearning for him, even when he’d always been by your side. You wanted to never let go, you wanted to become one with him. Now, and forever.

Your grip on his hair relaxed enough for you to push a loose strip of bandage that blocked his vision behind his ear. He hummed in response, his gratitude pouring in the way his hand held yours ever so lovingly. You tried your best to keep your gaze fixed on his, though the second he slid in one of his fingers, you had no choice but to fall back, your hips solely jerking forward.

You cursed again and again, until no word that made sense came out of your mouth, until the room began to spin, the bright kitchen lights and the buzzing of a bell filled in the void of your eyes. Briefly, you felt him pull out of you, his lips insisting on placing a series of tender kisses along your opening and thighs as if he were the one thanking you.

“Y/N.” The hoarse sound of your name fell on deaf ears. You were too preoccupied with your own bliss to answer him.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” He went on.

“Get… that?” Unwillingly you opened your eyes, completely clueless over what he was talking about.

The ringing had all but ceased inside your head, when you realized it had nothing to do with your orgasm. The cake!

In an instant, you flew to the other side of the kitchen, one hand attempting to piece your outfit together, while the other fumbled around the oven’s buttons. Were you a minute late, the cake would’ve gotten burnt to a crisp, and your entire struggle would’ve been over nothing.

“Couldn’t you handle it?” You protested, throwing a punch in the air as he approached you.

“Hmm? I don’t recall receiving such command.” He smirked, capturing each of your fists in his own before they got the chance to land.

“You!” You grunted and he grinned, finding your annoyed expression infinitely amusing, though perhaps, the funniest thing about this scene was the way a half-naked woman retaliated against him in the middle of a kitchen floor.

Maybe if you saw things from that perspective, you’d also be laughing, but for now, all you were was severely distracted and unsure of how to proceed. Your mind kept telling you to get things in order and finish with your cake’s assembly, while another less prim and proper part of you, kept urging you to jump his bones on the spot. Curse you, Takasugi Shinsuke and your stupidly stupid smile.

“Shall we wrap things up, or will you insist on attacking me?” He asked, his chin still glistening with your juices.

“…Get yourself cleaned up first.” You pulled your hands off him in defeat. There was no point of keeping this up.

After the two of you went back to appearing somewhat presentable, you explained how the cake needed some time to cool down, and how in the meantime, you could prepare additional toppings, such as those strawberries you’d previously located in the refrigerator.

Surprisingly enough, he seemed eager enough to assist without you having to ask. Where knives were involved, he found himself right in his element.

In no time, Takasugi made quick work of the strawberries, slicing them into smaller pieces, while all there was left for you to do was gawk at his broad shoulders. He seemed so focused, that even when you paraded back and forth, even when you forced a dry cough here and there, he paid no mind. Just what were you doing?

“What are you doing?” He read through your mind.

No answer could justify your actions. It was because of you that he’d found himself in this situation, but it was because of him that the insistent sensation between your legs wouldn’t go away. If your thoughts were that easy for him to read, then he’d know firsthand of how you felt right now.

His fingers had no reason to be busied with cutlery and fruit. They belonged around your hips, holding you down, lest you arch your back too high.

Be it against the counter, the table, the floor, or even the sink, you longed to see that familiar glint in his eye, the one he only showed when sheathed deep within your heat. You wanted the only sound in the room to be that of his husky breathing evolving to a singular growl right before he spilled in your guts.

If he could really read your mind, he’d know of all that. He’d know of how much you wanted him and how maddening that was. Screw Yato women, what were you supposed to do about your own frustration?

“You know, we’ll probably be in here a while longer.” You suggested, moving up behind him.

“And?” Amusement dripped of his voice as you rest your chin upon his shoulder.

“And we could have some more fun to ourselves.” Your arms looped around his exposed chest. “We’ve never done it in here before.”

Despite him continuously driving the knife down the cutting board, his pace had slowed down. He could act disinterested all he wanted, but his actions suggested otherwise.

“And?”

“And,” you lowered your hands round his nether area, elated to feel his hardened cock poking at your fingertips. “I can tell I’m not the only one excited by the prospect.”

“And?” He hummed, having let go of the knife.

“And I’m sick of playing games.” Your lips tugged at his earlobe, while you kept on palming him.

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to play house?”

“I was,” you admitted, “but now, I want you.”

“You grow more shameless with each year.” He accused, flaunting the kind of smirk you wanted to bite right off his lips.

“Can you blame me?”

“I guess not.”

One step was all it took for you to be pressed against the counter, the soft sensation of his mouth overriding the sharp edges of the drawers. It felt uncomfortable and rushed, but you couldn’t care less. The way his tongue wet over your bottom lip was enough to soothe the pain, enough to quell the thirst you had for him.

It’d always been like this. Every time Takasugi kissed you, you were brought back to that moonless summer night by the coastline, the place where you’d first gotten taste of each other. It felt as desperate as the sea’s foam clinging to the shore, and as certain as the promise of the incoming tide, liberating and drowning you all at once.

Deft fingers came digging at your waist, barely undoing each garment for him to ravish what was rightfully his. You helped him remove the kimono, though when it came to the apron, he didn’t allow for you to take it off. He loved the sight of you in it, but more importantly, he loved the fantasy of normality that came along, the manifestation of what your lives could have been.

Enveloped in his warm embrace, you took the opportunity to run your fingers over his skin, trailing them down his chest, his abdomen, and eventually, his crotch. He’d been in such hurry to leave that he’d neglected to wear an underwear. It was a wonder he’d never gotten arrested for public indecency, you mentally chuckled, wrapping your fingers around his shaft and then slowly pumping him.

A hand caressed your own, before moving onto your chest, drawing a tit outside the apron’s coverage. His hot breath replaced his fingers as he dipped forward, sucking your nipple right into his mouth. The sensation made your grip tighten, inducing a soft sigh to fall against your skin. He glanced at you, the green in his eye hazy while he moved higher to leave his mark, making sure that today would be more than just a memory to reminisce.

You dragged him closer, driving his cock to your slicked entrance. Playing around was nice, but definitely not as nice as being filled, a sentiment he seemed to share.

Takasugi placed his hands below your thighs, giving you little time to react when he lifted you up. You gasped, quickly knitting your fingers behind his neck to support yourself, while he held you close, shoving your hips together.

“Where to?” He rasped in between heavy breathing.

“Right here.” The second you gave your answer, you pressed your lips against his, unwilling to stray from his touch any longer.

With great care, he sat you atop the counter, his palms prompting your legs to dangle over the edge for him to position himself. You backed away ever so slightly, keen on watching his thumb continuously swipe over the head and your clit up until he allowed your lips to swallow him. You bit a moan back and he smiled, slowly pushing deeper, replacing your neediness with ecstatic pleasure.

“This is much better than Master Sword 69.” You jested, forcing him to shush you with his mouth, lest he let himself laugh at such a horrid joke.

You felt his tongue roll around yours in sync with his hips, the firm sensation of his pubic bone pressuring your clit whenever he slammed his cock inside. You moaned, nibbling at his lips while he grunted, digging his fingers at your hips to push you further against his thrusts. You loved it when he handled you like that, though you both knew he wouldn’t last much at this pace.

Eventually he slowed down, resorting to merely sheathing himself within your folds. He was already throbbing, his seed begging to spill inside your womb. You rocked your hips a tiny bit and he pulled away halfway before sinking back in, unable to truly part from you. Panted breaths mixed in with soft chuckles, the two of you finding great amusement in how naturally your bodies were drawn together, palpitating with desire.

“I can’t believe I’m yours.” You breathed, ghosting your lips over his. “Even after all these years, I can’t believe I was fortunate enough to have met you.”

“Hopefully you got your money’s worth.” He smirked.

“You make it sound as if you are a prostitute.”

Takasugi rolled his eye, returning his attention to your lower half. Even when he was balls deep inside, you couldn’t help but poke fun at him. Getting on his nerves never got old.

Faster than before, his hips snapped against yours, as if he was trying to fuck you into becoming less of a vixen. You paid no mind to that, fully enjoying the way his cock rammed in your sweet spot, until all of a sudden, sharp pain had you yelping. He stopped, a look of concern spreading to his features while you rubbed at the back of your skull. He’d gone so hard that you’d banged your head against the cabinet.

“So clumsy.” He mumbled, guising his mistake as yours.

You were about to complain when he started moving again, only this time, rather than feeling the cold metal boring into your head, you only felt the softness of his palm shielding you from harm.

“Shut up.” He hushed before you had the chance to say a single word.

Not that you really could, either. With how hard he pounded you, the only sounds you could make were whimpers, little by little being driven over the edge.

Stars still flickered past your shut eyelids as you used your last bit of energy to embrace him, propping your chin upon your arm. His hands searched for support against the counter while he began to fall out of rhythm, his thrusts leading to him cumming deep within your walls.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.” He was still throbbing as he said those three little words, words you never knew how much you longed to hear.

All these birthdays had gone by without a single gift or wish, but even if you could receive any gift, even if you could make any wish, you’d still choose him, you’d still wish for only him. In the end, all those forgotten gifts and wishes amounted to nothing. What was most important to you was right there in your arms. The most precious thing in life, your partner, your lover, your…family.

“Can you keep being my gift?” You asked, nuzzling in his shoulder. “Next year, and the year after that, can I keep asking for you?”

Takasugi spared no answer. Not because he didn’t want to, but because part of him knew there was always a possibility that the very first birthday you’d spent together might as well be the last he’d ever get to celebrate with you. And so he said nothing, choosing to splay his hands over your lower back in a tender motion.

“I don’t want anything other than you. There’s no one else I’d rather share such moments with, so can you please keep on being my present?” You insisted, demanding for a lie he was not too keen on giving.

A sigh heaved up his chest as he slowly moved away from you. “Quit being this mushy.” He mumbled, turning around.

Part of his cum poured down your thighs as you propped yourself against the counter.

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Maybe you shouldn’t make him commit to a promise he’d be unable to honor, but then again you had a hard time holding back when you loved him this much. The mere idea of spending a birthday on your own gave you goosebumps. It had to be with him. No matter what, he had to be there.

Takasugi returned a minute later with a couple of paper towels in hand. He took in your sour expression, realizing you probably took this short time to reflect upon the future, one you weren’t guaranteed to share.

“You’re such a mess.” He sank to his knees, gently cleaning after the mess he made between your legs.

“As long as I can help it, I promise.”

Following the rather eventful time you spent inside the kitchen, you’d made sure not to leave any traces of your little adventure behind, while he’d made sure to remind you of how easy it’d been for him to claim the key. You didn’t even notice he’d taken it from you until it was time to head out. That sly piece of…

But, you couldn’t complain. Not about his mocking, and not about his refusal to help clean either. The cake turned to be a great success, both in taste and appearance, and you could now finally reap your rewards in the comfort of his bedroom. Bit by bit the platter emptied with only about half the dessert remaining. You hadn’t eaten a single thing all day long, and the unscheduled ‘work-out’ had taken its toll on your poor legs.

Once the two of you finished eating, Takasugi brought forth his shamisen to tune it, while you fished out a piece of paper and a pen to write Sakamoto a letter. There was so much you wanted to tell him. About your trips, the Kiheitai, and of course, about Takasugi.

Outside your letters, Sakamoto never got to hear a word about or from his old friend. You’d seen Takasugi scribble some words, but they never reached his ears. All were torn into confetti.

You knew how much he missed the past. How deep his longing to meet with his friends again ran within his heart and how hard it was for him to express his innermost feelings. You knew all that, and although there was nothing you could do in order to help bridge the gap, letting Sakamoto know of his friend’s well-being wouldn’t harm. Behind his back, or not.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked without lifting head from his instrument.

“Nothing in particular. Just disproving some false claims.” You hid a dry cough behind your fist as you begun to read. “Dear Tatsuma, all’s well here, thanks for asking. I hope your business keeps expanding and you don’t get thrown out in space by Mutsu again. Your gift brought me great joy, but don’t assume I’ll let you win that easily. P.S. Don’t underestimate Shinsuke. He is an incredible lover and really great at-”

Before you could finish reading the supposed letter, Takasugi grabbed it from within your grasp, only to scoff at the lack of ink.

“You are incorrigible” He returned the paper to the table while you chuckled, earning yourself another of his infamous glares.

Rather than picking up the pen, you opted for the spoon, digging back in the remaining piece you’d left in your plate. “It’s true though. You really are an incredible lover and great at cooking.” You swallowed. “You know, it’s not too late to change career, Shinsuke.”

He shrugged, tightening and then striking one of the strings. “I’ll consider leaving the world with just a stove.”

“So what did you think of today? What was it like to make something from scratch?”

“Harder than watching Zura make onigiri.”

You laughed and he smiled just a little bit, the sound of his playing as mellow as his features.

“You’d rather just sit back and watch?”

He nodded, first setting his tuner and then his shamisen to the side. An invitation for you to scoot closer, one that you gracefully accepted by laying your head against his shoulder. For someone who lifted such a heavy burden, he surely felt lightweight as a pillow.

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind seeing you in an apron more often.” Takasugi said, picking up his own plate. He was never big on sweets, but he’d at the very least eaten half of what you’d served.

“Makes you resemble a proper housewife.” He smirked after shoving a bite.

“Calling me a housewife when you haven’t even put a ring on my finger.”

Your joke failed to land any chuckles apart from your own. If anything, it had the opposite effect on him, with his expression instantly turning sour.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that-”

“Except you did.” He sighed, dropping the plate along with the spoon back on the table, while you sat up to look at him.

“Y/N, I’ve halfed-assed many things in life, us included. Years later, and I still don’t know how to do this properly. But what I do know is that when we share a bed together, when we share what little’s left of our souls with one another, when we share a life, then that makes us as good as married, does it not?”

At the sound of his words, you felt your cheeks radiating with heat. How could he speak in such nonchalant way? He’d never called you so much as a girlfriend or a partner, and now went around addressing you as a wife? His wife?

“What? Scared to be called a terrorist’s wife?” Takasugi taunted.

“Terrorist? What terrorist?” You brought a hand onto your forehead, pretending to look around. “I see nothing but a samurai, and that would make me into a samurai’s wife.”

Your answer seemed to satisfy him enough to crack a smile, one that you eagerly returned.

“An idiot, a terrorist, and a samurai. I’ve been called all three in just one day.” He absently trailed over your fingers with his own.

“Only an idiotic samurai could ever turn to terrorism. To me, Shinsuke, you are the same boy I met back then. The one who’s unafraid to raise his sword in the name of a lost cause.”

You meant to assure him, but he only ended up snickering in amusement.

“I really haven’t changed, have I?”

“Not at all.” You expressed with a nod of your head. “But If I may say so myself, you’ve gotten a tad grumpier. It’s as if your grumpiness increases with each passing year.”

His amusement turned to irritation in a moment’s notice, though that did not dishearten you from making further comments. It was always amusing to see how far his tolerance would reach, but when he finally boiled over, your sounds turned muffled.

“Shut up and eat the damn cake already.” Takasugi huffed, having shoved a spoonful of cake in between your parted lips.

Once he felt you swallowing, he pulled his hand away, only for your mouth to follow it, seeking to be fed again. He glared and you insisted, drawing out a long ‘A’ sound until he caved in.

“Such a lousy wife.”

The next morning found you alone in bed, with Takasugi having seemingly disappeared from your side. This was hardly unlike him. Come morning light, he always had this tendency of running off with Bansai, handling the kind of issues you failed to wrap your head around. Can’t be helped.

Your eyes shut once more, refusing to open up just yet. It was so early and there was nothing for you to do, other than to spend another dull day in space. Or at least, that’s what you thought until you stretched your hand onto the pillow beside you, your fingers meeting with the cold roundness of a foreign object; a ring of gold.

“Such a lousy husband.” You exclaimed with a smile brighter than the sun itself.

[lilac-5ky]

A Birthday Plot (Takasugi birthday oneshot)

A/N: As his legally wedded wife, I think that me writing an incredibly lengthy piece for his birthday, surprises no one. Takasugi is a character whom I utterly love, one who has helped me deal with many self issues and gotten me to accept myself. People outside the anime community will mock you if you suggest that a fictional character was enough to change your life, yet I feel no shame to admit that without him or Gintama, my mental state would have deteriorated a long time ago. Takasugi is the one who basically saved me and he's brought a great deal of happiness to my life, and for that, I will always be grateful to him and Sorachi. SO YEAH BEFORE THIS TURNS INTO A MUSHY EMOTIONAL SPEECH, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BELOVED SHINSUKE 💜💜💜

p.s. i really did time this to japan time so that it gets posted the same second his bday comes. aye.

Warning: Don't get fooled by the fluff, this turns into a full mode smut. But you know, it's full of love and fluff too so uwu.

adding this gif bcs his expression here overwhelms me and i wanna squeal.

Birthdays are special. You’ve always been a firm believer in that. When you are a child, you get to eat all the cake in the world undisturbed, getting coddled by family and friends alike. No one complains about you spending the entire day playing ‘kick the can’. No one asks you to do chores; you are free to do as you wish.

Birthdays really are special, but as time went by, you saw a less selfish reason as to why that was. It’s the one day of the year when you can celebrate and honor a person’s life and very existence, when you can return all the joy and happiness you’ve received tenfold. When you truly care about someone, their birthdays have even more importance than your own. Yet when it comes to the one you cared about, things did not come as easily.

Takasugi was never a big fan of birthdays. Even when the two of you were younger, he always spent his birthday like any other ordinary day at Shoka Sonjuku, bickering and getting into trouble with his friends. While Katsura wished him a “happy birthday” without fail, Gintoki’s teasing never seized. If anything, it was just an opportunity to remind him how another year had gone by with him not growing an inch, leading to even more arguing between the two.

At the end, Shouyou-sensei was the only one to try and make this day somewhat memorable, letting you play to your heart’s content and prepping a small gift for each of his pupils’ special day.

When it came down to you, Takasugi’s birthday was perhaps even more valued than your own. Ever since you were mere brats, your eyes had always been set on him, more so than on any of your other friends. For reasons you failed to understand, his happiness meant a great deal to you, and so, even if it was nothing but a small thing, you wanted to give him something that would make him smile.

The first present you could remember giving him was the silliest of the lot; a makeshift bouquet of freshly cut mountain flowers, one that you’d hastily shaped on your way back from the temple school when he wasn’t looking. It wasn’t much of a gift, for sure, but that was all you had to offer at the time.

The two of you paced side by side as per usual, the distance between your houses being relatively small and all. Though the walk was short, your anxiety made it feel as if you’d been on the road for hours. The fact that no one was around was enough to make your palms all sweaty, the green of the stems molding with your fingertips. It didn’t help that he’d chosen this day to keep to himself either, as if he had some sort of premonition as to what was about to happen.

Doing your best to forsake that gut wrenching feeling, you held onto the flowers as if your life depended on it. His house was the first on the line, yet rather than taking a left turn to reach your own home, you tagged along with him. Surprisingly enough he didn’t seem to mind, his attention turning to you only after you’d reached his front door. It was time.

“H-here!” You shut your eyes, extending the bouquet for him to grab. “Happy Birthday, Shinsuke-kun.”

The second he took them in his own hands, you had vanished into thin air. Your heart was beating so loud, that by the time your feet stopped moving, it felt as if your entire body was tossed inside an oven. When the oxygen returned to your lungs, you realized what a big idiot you were. Instead of waiting to see his reaction, you had ran away like a coward. What if he hated you now? What if he didn’t want to see you again? How would you face him? And lastly, why on earth would you gift a boy flowers?

Perhaps you were unsure of what that feeling that you felt for him was, but if you’d stayed just a second longer, you’d get to see how a bright shade of red clung onto his cheeks as well, his lips trembling between a frown and a shy smile.

Your second attempt at a birthday gift didn’t come until his next birthday. Despite neither of you bringing it up, the embarrassment of the flower incident managed to haunt you all year long. At times you mused over what had actually happened to the bouquet, though knowing him he’d probably discarded it. Well, that’d didn’t matter. It wasn’t a particularly bright idea to begin with, and now you were given a chance to redeem yourself. No matter what, past mistakes would not be repeated, a rule that did not necessarily apply to new ones.

This year, you had decided to put your mothers culinary teachings into practice by opting for a different kind of present, one that just about anyone would be able to appreciate; homemade cookies. Surely a birthday cake was far more suited for the occasion, but your skills were not honed for such a thing just yet. Cookies would have to do. Besides, your mother assured that they were most delicious.

The first thing you did in the morning of Takasugi’s birthday was to hide your gift underneath your desk, away from the prying eyes of your friends. For once, this was a present you could actually be proud of; packed in a small fancy box and kept together by an even fancier looking ribbon, the cookies looked as if they were straight from the bakery. Those half shredded daises you gave him last year would finally be erased from memory.

When the opportunity to approach him presented itself, you fished the box out, walking towards the boy with the biggest smile on your face. There was no reason for you to run away anymore, not when this was a guaranteed success.

“Happy Birthday, Shinsuke!”

The boy arched a brow, his curious expression studying your own and then the box, before finally relieving you of the burden. Things were moving along way better than they did last year. Or so you thought until the ribbon came off and you found yourselves staring at an empty metallic pit. Well, semi empty, that was. Other than a leftover cookie and many, many crumbs, everything you’d worked so hard for had turned into smoke.

Without saying a word, Takasugi picked up the remaining cookie, shifting it with his fingers while looking at it in disbelief. You didn’t know what to say. There was no way that box was empty when you left the house, and yet, there was no way to explain this. At least not until a certain silver-haired troublemaker passed you by with a face full of crumbs.

“Gintoki!” The two of you growled together in unison.

And that was how your birthday surprise was once again ruined.

It wasn’t until about three or four years later that you dared break through that birthday curse. In all those years that went by, you’d managed to identify those weird, swirling-like emotions as love. Or at least an early stage of it. With time, you were able to keep them under control around him, yet they remained the reason as to why you could never come up with a proper birthday gift. Celebrating another failure would not do. Next time you attempted to gift him something, it needed to be proper and well thought of, a present that equaled your feelings.

At least that was the thought, until the four of you officially joined the war. With Shouyou-sensei’s rescue being your primary goal, no one had the time nor the mind to fool around anymore. Not when death and destruction loomed right around the corner. However, Sakamoto’s eventual arrival did have an impact, restoring some of that past liveliness in your lives. After all, soldiers or not, you were still teenagers. A little fun here and there when the war was in a stalemate wouldn’t hurt.

With Takasugi’s birthday approaching, you found it hard to concentrate on anything other than finding the perfect gift, while he seemed to focus on literally anything else. When he wasn’t in the middle of fighting over every single petty thing with Gintoki, he was constantly working on new strategies and tactics, doing his best to predict every possible enemy movement in advance. His dedication was admirable, earning the respect of many fighters among your ranks. Yet that perseverance of his limited your gift choices, rounding them down to tools of practical usage. How unimaginative.

Time kept flowing, and you’d been unable to come up with a good idea, until one day you overheard an argument between him and Gintoki. The latter was accusing him of being unable to see past a meter because of his height, while Takasugi put the blame on the overgrown flora. It didn’t take long for things to get heated between them, each trying to bring the other’s head onto the ground in a contest to see who could reach lower. While an entertaining sight to behold, you had no time to spare on watching, not when you had finally come up with the greatest idea.

On the day of his birthday, you found yourself aimlessly circling through the woods. According to Katsura, the boy set out for the forest around noon, hoping to scout the area before nightfall. It wasn’t unlike Takasugi to take on objectives all by himself, refusing to ask for help even in the face of daunting tasks. Aware of that stubborn nature of his, you decided that rather than waiting around for him to return, it’d be better to go on the lookout yourself.

After searching just about every nook and cranny of the place, you were unable to find any sign of Takasugi, or anyone else for that matter. He might as well have turned back from a different path, leaving you to stand all alone in the desolate woods. The sun was about to go down and the first batch of stars were already appearing upon the sky. It was time to go. Finding him in the dark would be impossible anyway.

Having let out a disheartened sigh, you were about to give up when the sound of leaves rustling from up above caught your interest.

“Shinsuke?” You asked, perplexed as to why his face was buried between branches and leaves. A pair of sharp green eyes looked down on you, with the boy’s back leaning against the trunk and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Y/N.” He acknowledged without budging an inch. “Why are you here?”

“I was looking for you. Zura said you’d be here.”

The light hum of the cicadas was the only answer you received.

“I came here to bring you this.” You went on, ushering him to grab the bag from your hands. “It’s your birthday, remember? When I saw this I thought that you might find some use for it and I uhm…” Panic seeped through your words as you watched him take the pair of binoculars out. “I hope it’s to your liking. Happy Birthday!”

Takasugi carefully examined the object, his gesture reminding you of how keenly he had once studied that cookie you gave him. Though you couldn’t tell from down there, he seemed at the very least interested, bringing the binoculars to his eyes and then looking far into the distance.

“You can use these to spot ambushes or enemies in general, but you could also use them to gaze at pretty things from up close. I’ve seen you stare at the stars or the sea or other pretty things such as-“

“You.” He interrupted, the direction of his binoculars shifting.

The second you understood the meaning of his suggestion, you felt your entire face turning red, an expression he could easily spot with his new toy. Did he really mean what he just said? Did he really find you pretty? Did he actually look at you? All sorts of thoughts spiraled through your brain, until you realized that he wasn’t done talking.

“…should head back in. I’ll take care of things and join shortly.” At the sound of his words, you felt a weird rush of embarrassment and disappointment, resulting in your legs picking up a quick pace on their own.

Just when you thought you’d been able to escape, the sound of his voice made your feet come to a halt.

“Oh and Y/N?” He hesitated, briefly contemplating his own words. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

That was the first and the last actual gift you managed to give him. The war, your defeat, his injury, sensei… all those events that transpired changed Takasugi in unimaginable ways. Just like the rest of you, he’d lost so much during those years, yet he refused to ever let go. Ten years had passed since then; ten years of him living his own life as if it was borrowed; ten years of him throwing himself down the path of vengeance.

Although it was hard for you to see him progressively destroy himself, you knew that without a purpose he’d truly lose it. You understood that better than anyone. After all, you’d spent all these years by his side.

Perhaps you really were Takasugi’s final selfish need, a remnant of the past he couldn’t forsake. Be it persistence on your side or tolerance on his, you clung onto one another like no one else, promising to see the end of things together no matter what that meant. This was your pledge.

Considering birthdays during such a crucial point of your journey wasn’t the most sensible thing to do, yet part of you could not completely abandon your previous way of living. Even when he had no intention of celebrating the occasion, you found yourself reflecting upon the past times, wishing that just this once, you could return to the girl who schemed around his birthday plans.

“Why are you in such deep thought?”

The sound of his voice made you turn around to the direction of your bed. Despite being all dressed up, he was still sitting idle, not particularly willing to leave the comfort of your covers.

A light frown of his as you approached him was all it took to make you smile. Even when you’d grown accustomed to seeing that face on regular occasion, it didn’t seem to lose its appeal. He remained as endearing as ever.

You hummed softly, taking a seat by his side. Bringing up the past would likely turn the mood sour and foil all plans for the day. You had to carefully consider your choices before giving him an answer, or else everything you’d worked for would go to waste.

Takasugi patiently awaited your response, his eye trailing down to his fingers, mindlessly tugging at the roll of bandage between them.

“I was thinking about going to the city today.” You admitted, claiming the bandage from his hands. He stood still, watching as you pushed the hair off his forehead, wrapping the fabric around his left eye with great care.

“What for?” He asked, a pout taking shape on his face. Even when he let you handle such things for him, he’d much rather be the one taking care of himself. At the end, past this imposing and striking appearance, lied a bullheaded child.

“To replenish your stash.”

“My stash?” He arched a brow.

“Well…” You chuckled awkwardly, doing your best to play the part. “Can you blame me? This heatwave is unbearable and-”

“You drunk my yakult?” He interrupted, shooting you a glare.

“Yes… but I was planning on compensating you, as you see!”

It didn’t matter whether you upset him or not, as long as he took the bait. All you wanted was for him to be distracted enough so that when you reeled it back in, he’d be sure to follow. After all, this was nothing but a carefully planned ruse to get him to celebrate his own birthday.

With an apologetic smile, you cupped his face, ignoring his unamused expression.

“I’m sorry, I know you don’t like it when I touch your stuff.”

He shook his head, some of his annoyance dissipating.

“Would you like to come with me? It’s been a long time since we last walked together, and well, carrying all that yakult by myself would be exhausting.”

“Just how much did you consume?”

If anyone heard the conversation between the two of you, they’d assume that you had committed a grave sin. His tone was stern and his expression strained, as if you’d just revealed to him that you’d sided with the Bakufu. Seeing such side of him resurface brought great joy to you, relieved that this part of him had survived the war.

“All of.. it?” This was a big oversight. Checking his actual stash beforehand completely slipped your mind. You could only hope that the amount was formidable enough to pique his interest.

“Three refrigerators?”

You widened your eyes, finding it hard to believe that he actually kept this much inside the ship.

“Y—yeah! I told you I was quite thirsty.” You chuckled, hoping that your plan wouldn’t fall apart now.

Takasugi kept quiet, his expression tensing up once more before relaxing into a curved smile. Fooling him was hard, but when it came to his beloved beverage, you could only hope his excessive defense would drop even for a bit.

“You’ll pay for this.” He said in a rather ominous tone, briefly erasing the thoughts from your mind.

“O-of course!” You nodded, returning your attention to the unfinished wrapping of his eye. Going about three more times over it, you tucked the loose ends in the back, making sure that it was secure enough. “So, you are coming?”

He sighed, rolling his eye ever so slightly. Success!

Unable to contain your excitement, you flashed a smile at him. Today would be so much fun. Even if he got mad about you disrespecting his wishes, he was bound to forgive that little scheme once he got to see the actual surprise you’d planned. Or at least, so you hoped.

Leaning closer to his face, you pressed your lips softly against his bandaged eye, earning yet another annoyed scoff from him.

I’m sorry, Shinsuke. But this is the only way.

“All set, let’s go!”

Surprisingly enough, Takasugi seemed to be in a far better mood when you met up on the docks. Once you’d finished fixing his bandages, he went back to his own room, giving you time to change into something nicer. After all, you wanted to look pretty on his birthday. A light blue kimono decorated by cherry blossoms was your outfit of choice, paired with a silky pink obi. Your hair was shaped in a slightly excessive updo style, kept together by a dark blue hairpin.

On second thought, maybe this was too much for a walk in the city, a fact that he also took notice in.

“You look…” He furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly searching for the right words.

“Weird? Is it too much? Should I get changed?”

“No. Just…” He walked closer, leaning as close to your face as his hat would allow. “Pretty.”

You had to suppress the urge to attach yourself onto his arm, with your entire face lighting up at his comment. Maybe if you were alone, he wouldn’t mind, but in front of all his comrades, he still had to keep appearances up. It’s fine, you’d have enough time to show your affection for him later on. For now, moving things according to the plan matters more.

On the way to the city, the two of you walked side by side, the conversation unsurprisingly falling back to the topic of work and his goals. If one thing about Takasugi remained the same in all those years, that was his tendency to throw himself into his personal aspirations, which was basically another word for ‘workaholic’. Still, you were never bothered by that. This was one of his many charms.

Things on board had been quiet for the most part, and so when he asked you if anything interesting had occurred, you didn’t have much to say. Truth was, you spent more time inside the ship than he did. While Takasugi was busy going from spaceship to spaceship, personally handling the meetings with the Harusame, you stayed back, the main focus of your job being babysitting the new recruits.

Still, it wasn’t as if you could complain. Your communication skills rather outmatched your battle prowess. If anything, you’d be dead weight on the battlefield. Besides, the majority of the time, there was always a funny story to be shared with him.

This week’s story involved one of the newest members of the Kiheitai, the son of a farmer who’d joined about two months ago, eager to serve the cause even when that meant leaving the warmth of his home behind. For the most part, he seemed to adjust well enough, if one overlooked the whole Matako incident.

“What is the Matako incident?” Takasugi inquired with an already entertained expression. He was well aware of how ridiculous such stories could get.

The infamous Matako incident was a series of events that followed Takasugi’s latest trip to one of those planets with over ten syllables in their names. While he was gone, there was a small gathering to celebrate one of your most recent alliances with another mercenary tribe. As expected, everyone was in a joyful mood, drinking perhaps more than they could handle.

One of those people was the new recruit, who’d drunk until he could barely stand on two feet, slurring and bumping his way closer to your table. At first, you thought he needed something, but when he dropped onto his knees before Matako, you knew what was up. A love confession followed, with the man struggling to express his sincere feelings. At the end, all he managed to do was throw up all over her skirt, resulting in the blonde firing bullets at his feet until he dropped into the sea.

Takasugi snickered out loud, his right eye falling shut while he laughed.

“The poor guy was bedridden for an entire week after that.” You chimed in with a chuckle of your own. “Matako refuses to apologize and he hasn’t even looked her way since. What a tragedy.”

“I told you not to let fools aboard.”

“He is not half bad with a sword. Plus, I do understand where he’s coming from.”

“Fools tend to relate to one another.” Takasugi sneered, earning a playful nudge to his shoulder.

“That’s not it!” You protested. “It reminds me of how hard I tried to make you like me back then.”

“Hmm? There was no need for you to try.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I wonder…” He smirked, the tone of his voice rather suggestive.

Before you could ask further questions, Takasugi stopped walking, making you realize that you were standing right outside Edo Mart. Damn, all this mindless talking had you completely forget about your plan. If you went yakult shopping this early, then everything would fall apart.

Sliding in front of him, you extended both hands and legs in a dramatic manner to block his entrance. Perplexed, Takasugi tried to move past you, yet you stood in the way again. His confusion progressively shifted to annoyance, and you knew you had to say something, or else things would take a turn for the worse.

Bringing your arms to your stomach, you put your best strained expression on, making it seem as if you were in severe pain.

“Can’t we get something to eat first? My stomach is killing me.” You protested, keeping up the tormented grimace.

“I’ll let you have one of the yakult.” He argued, attempting to push past, when you clung onto him with both hands, pressing your face against his chest as if you were about to faint.

“It’ll be too late by then… please, let us get some food now.” You pleaded with teary eyes.

With a sigh, Takasugi pulled you back on both feet, briefly glancing around him. Except for a few exiting customers, no one seemed to notice the dramatic scene unfolding right in front of their eyes. The last thing you wanted was for people to realize that the two of you were wanted terrorists with a large bounty placed over your heads. But then again, who would assume that terrorists went yakult shopping in broad daylight?

Indulging your whims, Takasugi stepped away from the door, letting you lead him to wherever it was you wanted to go. One would assume that your destination would be some sort of food selling vendor or restaurant. So when the two of you came to stand outside a pastry shop, naturally, he failed to hide his own surprise.

“You need cake to quench your hunger?”

At this point, making stuff up was becoming second nature. Surely it was getting ridiculous, but what else could you do?

“Well… I heard cake is a good counter to nausea.” Plus, a birthday celebration with no cake just doesn’t feel right.

“I told you to quit exchanging letters with that idiot.” At the mention of your childhood friend, Takasugi clenched his jaw, despite him being the one to bring him up.

“It’s not that, it’s just that I… damn, I feel nauseous again.” You feigned dizziness, with your hand covering your mouth.

Following your gesture, Takasugi seemed to be taking your theatrics more seriously. Inspecting you from head to toe, you felt his stare pierce right through you, an expression of visible dread overtaking his features.

“Y/N. Don’t tell me you…” He insinuated with a hushed voice.

“What?” It was then that you realized how he’d been fixated on your belly all along.

“What?! Of course not, that’s not it!” You assured him, frantically waving your hands up and down as if to erase his suspicions. “I just can’t remember the last time I had cake and well I… uh…” Even now, he didn’t seem fully convinced that an unplanned pregnancy wasn’t behind today’s shenanigans.

“Be right back!” You yelled, throwing yourself into the store as fast as possible.

Just how much worse could things get already?

Not long after, you came out of the door with a sole piece of strawberry shortcake in hand. Had you opted for more than that, he’d most definitely grow suspicious, if he weren’t already, that was.

Though reluctant at first, Takasugi agreed to take a seat for as long as you ate your dessert, settling down at a table by the door. For a guy that was hunted down by the entire police force of Edo, he seemed overly relaxed, with his head hanging back and his legs stretched underneath the table. Perhaps all those recent diplomatic meetings had finally taken their toll.

“Feeling any better?” He asked, peering at you through his half-shut eye.

“Mhm, much better!” You grinned, pushing yet another spoonful past your lips. “Want some?”

He was about to say something regarding sugar rush and idiotic samurais, when you stuffed his mouth with cake. Your gesture most definitely caught him off guard, a muffled grunt evading him as he stubbornly pursed his lips around the spoon. In the end, he was left with no other choice but to swallow.

“How is it?” You asked as he took the spoon off your hands.

“Edible.”

You chuckled, pushing the cake towards the center of the table. No matter his lackluster comment, it was obvious that the dessert was to his liking, with his spoon stealing bites off the plate every now and then. Your first objective was completed.

“So, what was it that you liked about me?” You dropped your spoon, leaving the remaining bits for him to dig in. “You said I didn’t need to put in any effort.”

“I figured that if I left you behind, you’d probably die on your own.” Takasugi shrugged, a smirk appearing on his lips the moment he picked up on your pouty expression. “That and because… you prove to me there are still things to be preserved.”

“I do?”

“You still don’t get it? This planet is a home for idiots. At least one should remain to upkeep traditions. A pure-hearted idiot like you would do just fine.”

You weren’t sure if he meant to compliment or insult you. Knowing him, the one went hand in hand with the other.

“You really look down on me.”

“Do I?” He teased, licking the cream off his spoon. “Don’t worry. At the end of the world, I’d feel much more confident caving in the arms of said idiot.”

Once Takasugi finished his cake, the two of you hit the road, resuming your original yakult replenishment quest. Or at least, that’s what he thought. The day was far from over and so were your plans.

After a while of strolling through the streets of Edo, the wonderful scent of lavender led you to a local flower shop. Admittedly, this wasn’t part of your schedule, but when you came to remember those sorry daisies from back then, you figured that a bouquet would add a nice little touch.

“Shinsuke?”

His ears perked up at the sound of his name.

“Can we stop for some flowers? I want my room to be a bit more lively.”

Rather than giving you an answer, he gestured towards the door. You had to admit, he was far more agreeable than you’d expect him to be.

Considering the impulsive nature of your purchase and the large variety the store provided, making a choice was rather difficult. Roses smelled divine, but they were too much of a cliché. Spider lilies were beautiful, yet a symbol of death. Clenching your fingers around your purse, you found yourself unable to make up your mind, despite the florist being eager to assist.

Just as you were about to go for one of the more ordinary assortments, a bouquet reminiscent of the one you once gave him caught your attention. Perhaps revisiting the past wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

Back then you had been too eager for the both of you to forget, yet now you couldn’t help but wonder whether he remembered or not.

“Daisies…” He smirked, picking at one of the petals with his thumb and index. “Aren’t you a bit too old to be plucking flowers?”

Holding the bouquet out of his reach, you scoffed right in his face.

“I don’t need to do that to be certain of your affections.”

A muffled chuckle followed your words. Despite neither of you willingly admitting to it, bickering with one another like this had always been a welcome break from the harsh reality. Such were some of the memories you treasured the most.

“What’s next?” Takasugi asked, seemingly having given up on the idea of yakult shopping.

You looked at the sky; the sun beamed at its peak. There was still time for you to pick his actual gift up, though perhaps it’d be better to get it sooner than later.

With a smile, you took a step forward, pouring back into the streets side by side.

Noticeably, the pace of your steps had slowed down, with Takasugi stealing glances at the windows of the shops. He didn’t seem particularly interested in making a purchase, though he did end up buying some tobacco for his kiseru. Shopping with him like that made it seem as if things were back to what they used to be, with the two of you looking like an ordinary every-day couple.

At times, you did muse over what it’d be like to lead a normal life with him. Had the outcome of the war been different, would things also be different between you? Would he end up making an honest living without having to look over his shoulder? Would you be leading the kind of life your family hoped for? Would the five of you gather up and share drinks like you once did?

Though such a life was enticing, it was far from reality. No matter how many chances you were given at a normal life, you’d always choose life on the run as long as that meant you got to run with him.

After a while of browsing the stores, you reached the entrance of a workshop, one that belonged to an acclaimed artisan. Naturally, figuring out a suitable present for Takasugi involved hours upon hours of you bending and twisting your brain around his personality and interests. Unlike back then, he wasn’t just a mere friend to you anymore. He was the man you shared your life with; your gift had to reflect as much, and that was how you came to pick said artisan for the job.

“I placed an order a while back. Mind if I grab it real quick?”

He shook his head dismissively, settling against the wall.

Your entrance was followed by the high-pitched ring of the doorbell, its sound notifying the owner. He was a man in his late 50’s, with a prominent jaw and a receding hairline of gray color being among his more striking features. Upon seeing you, his marble-like eyes lit up in recognition, a most welcoming expression carved into his face.

Luckily, he cut straight to the chase, ushering you to follow him to the back where he kept his creations. Though small, his desk overflowed with all sorts of items, from time-worn clocks and antiques, to complex jewelry and sword handles. That was one of Edo’s most versatile artists for you.

The man went through the piles of objects until he fished out a shimmering handguard. You took a step closer to inspect it, the gold color twinkling within your orbs. It looked exactly as you’d pictured it, if not better. The wings of the butterfly were perfectly engraved, identical to the ones his yukata sported. It was perfect, it really was.

Satisfied with the results, you thanked the man, slipping the money across the busied counter before making your way outside.

“I wasn’t late, was I?” You asked Takasugi, smiling at the sight of him.

Perhaps you were more excited about this than he’d be, though you could only hope the gift appealed to his tastes.

He turned to face you, with his arm lazily hanging out of his yukata. Approaching him, you quickly shoved the handguard inside your obi, concealing it from him. This was not the time nor place for him to receive his present.

“Only about a hundred years too late.” He scoffed, pulling away from the wall.

“My deepest apologies, supreme governor general-sama!” You clasped your hands together.

Irked by your comment, he was about to scold you over the excessive use of formalities, when a third voice chimed in, catching you both off guard.

“Takasugi! You won’t be getting away this time!” A young man with chestnut colored hair roared, aiming at you with a bazooka from within a car. The Shinsengumi!

Before you could react on your own, your hand was clenched in Takasugi’s as the two of you ran through the streets. A shot followed, the cries of the passersby echoing in your stead.

There was no time for you to look back, with the man quite literally dragging you into a maze of back alleys. The passage was too narrow for the police vehicles to pass, yet you both knew how they’d stop at nothing to get to him.

For a second, you were tempted to shake him off, aware that he had a better chance running on his own. It was because of you that he’d gotten himself involved in this mess. You shouldn’t have been so naïve as to think that such a leisurely time in the city was still an option, yet not for one moment did he let go of you. Even if your body gave out, he’d keep the two of you moving no matter the cost. That’s just who he was.

After entering what seemed to be the millionth alleyway, you spotted what appeared to be the beginning of a forest, a series of pine trees popping behind the final rooftops. Normally you’d hate to ruin your newly bought kimono with mud and twigs, but you were left with no choice. It was hide or fight and, admittedly, you stood no chance like this.

Takasugi was the first one to go, creating a path for you with his bare hand. Using a sword would be easier, though that'd leave an obvious trail for your pursuers to follow. It had been so long since you had heard a siren or a gunshot, but it was still too soon to rest assured. You had to keep going, and so you did, until the trees thinned out to an open field.

Surprisingly enough, you’d ended up standing right above the city, having a perfect view of the streets you previously roamed, as well as the docks. Somehow after all that running, you’d come closer to your starting point than before.

While you were busy inspecting the area below, Takasugi let go of your hand, his back disappearing past the rows of trees as he attempted to survey around.

What a disaster, you thought to yourself, wincing at your own stupidity. Had you gone to Edo Mart as planned; had you purchased the gift in advance, you wouldn’t be finding yourself in such a mess.

It was pure luck that your kimono suffered no heavy damage, other a couple of attached leaves, that was. At least you both survived, and so did the-

Where is the gift?

Throwing your hands all over your body, you patted down at the fabric, attempting to locate the handguard. You definitely remembered placing it inside your obi right before the chase ensued, but it was there no more. Not just that; somewhere along the line, your fingers let go of the bouquet. This really was an all-for-nothing disaster.

“Looking for this?” Takasugi asked, holding an object right above his head.

The handguard!

“You know, had I known of your scheming skills in prior, I’d have you replace Takechi.” He semi—jokingly said as he slowly made his way towards you.

“Next time you try to deceive someone, better make sure your lies check out. I can’t believe you don’t even know how many refrigerators we have on board.”

It seemed like even before the two of you set out on your little adventure, he knew all along. He knew, yet he’d willingly followed through on your plan as if he didn’t.

Sighing, you brought your hands to your face, brushing them over your eyes.

“I’m sorry. Really, I didn’t think it would end like this, I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“It’s fine. Let those filthy dogs chase after their own tails.”

“They lost us?” You asked, receiving a nod as a reply.

The safety of you two mattered more than a stupid birthday present, though that didn’t prevent him from triumphantly waving it in front of your face.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugged, a hint of a smirk trembling upon his lips.

“I was curious to see how far you’d go. Besides, leaving you unsupervised would lead to you doing more stupid things, wouldn’t it?”

“Well…” There was not much to be said, considering you were responsible for the outcome. “I suppose you are right.” Your voice was so meek, with your eyes looking at him like a puppy in the rain.

“All I wanted was to surprise you, but I couldn’t even manage to do something as simple.”

“You surprised me plenty.” He argued back, his gaze falling back at the handguard.

“I had this one made for you. I know that after everything, celebrating birthdays must be about the last thing on your mind, but…” You coughed, clearing your throat. “But you can’t prevent me from celebrating the birthday of the man I love. Such a day is precious to me, just like each and every day we get to spend together. I am grateful for all those days, I am grateful that you were born and I am grateful that I got to meet you.

“Shinsuke, you aren’t a samurai who only destroys. So far, you’ve been able to protect me through everything with that sword of yours, putting your soul on the line more times that I can count. This isn’t much, but hopefully it’s enough to protect you too.”

Your speech left him speechless, as he sheepishly stared into your eyes. No malice, no gratitude, no nothing.

“But uh, there is no need for you to use it if you don’t like it! You’ve been going without one for years, so perhaps you find no use for it and I could always return-”

In a rapid movement Takasugi unsheathed his sword, cutting through the air and your words in half.

“Has no one told you that asking for a gift back is rude?” He scoffed, installing the handguard at the base of the sword. Thankfully, it seemed to be a perfect fit.

Once he was done looking at it, making sure that it wouldn’t fall out, he attached his sword back to his hip.

“So you like it?”

Flashing a smile at you, Takasugi moved closer until no distance remained between you. With his hand reaching forward, he cupped your cheek ever so softly, a callused thumb rubbing at your skin as he gazed into your eyes. Somehow you’d forgotten all about your question, falling victim to his charms all over again like you always did.

“I love it.” He breathed his answer right before he claimed your lips with his.

You closed your eyes, finding comfort in the warmth of his mouth and the certainty of his touch. It didn’t matter how long you’d been running or how far the Shinsengumi had chased you. This moment right here made it worth the trouble. He was worth the trouble.

“Happy Birthday.” You whispered on top of his lips, feeling them stretch into yet another smile.

Even when he pulled away from the kiss, he didn’t pull away from you. His hand kept holding you in place, while the rough edge of his hat bumped against your forehead.

“Next time you are definitely paying for this.”

The rest of the afternoon went by in relative peace. Somehow you were able to avoid any further run-ins with the Shinsengumi, the sole sign of a police vehicle being the distant echo of a faraway siren. Even so, Takasugi seemed to be on the edge, with his fingers itching to grab the hilt of his sword at the slightest of sounds. Considering everything that went down, you could hardly blame him. Besides, you were too preoccupied fawning over his sword’s new appearance, feeling all giddy that he got to carry a part of you everywhere he went.

After a while of trailing through the city, the two of you managed to reach the docks. Your feet were borderline killing you, making you wish that Takasugi offered you a ride on his back like he did when you were children. Of course you never dared to ask such a thing, especially when he’d spent more than half the day glaring at you. This was far from the ideal birthday you’d planned in your brain. You hated to admit it, but there was still so much for you to learn in terms of scheming.

By the time you set foot on the ship, the sun was fully submerged into the waters below, leaving nothing but a lovely shade of saturated orange behind. Though you didn’t mind traveling through space, sunsets in Edo were a sight you would never forsake. There was no place like home.

“Ahh, what a fun day!” You exclaimed, stretching both arms above your head.

Takasugi closed the door behind you, undoing the strings of his hat.

“Fun… well, that’s a way to put it.”

You watched as he leaned against the dresser, setting his hat and sword aside.

“Come on! The weather was nice, the cake was nice, the flowers were nice, the gift was nice”

You pointed at each of your fingers as if you meant to count through every positive happening of the day, only hesitating when you reached your pinky.

“You were nice.”

He tilted his head, his lips curling into a crooked smile.

“Suggesting that I normally aren’t?”

To count all the times he glared, threatened or even killed someone these past few days, you were in need of at least three sets of extra arms. Despite that, you knew better than to consider Takasugi the evil bastard terrorist that the Bakufu and the rest of his enemies made him out to be. To count all the times he’d smiled at you, all the times he’d saved you, all those times when you’d felt as if your entire world had collapsed only to find yourself in his arms; to properly count those times, you’d need more fingers than the entire Kiheitai had to offer.

“Hmm… You have your moments."

He seemed satisfied enough with your answer, his expression softening up as the two of you shared a look. Words meant nothing when your eyes spoke for themselves, one’s image etched into the eyes of the other, adorned by sheer adoration that neither of you bothered to hide. Behind closed doors, there was no reason to.

“I’d better go get some rest.” You mumbled, a forced yawn breaking through the tension.

It wasn’t that you felt particularly sleepy, but after spending the entire day with him, he was bound to have at least a few unfinished tasks to tend to. A day of mindless fun was not enough to switch his work habits.

You were about to return to your own room when, all of a sudden, the door fell shut before you, a palm preventing it from opening.

“Oi, oi. Where do you think you are going? " Takasugi taunted with a sultry voice.

“My room?” You peered over your shoulder, a curtain of dark purple blocking your vision.

“I thought you wanted to celebrate my birthday. Go on, celebrate it. Day’s not over yet.”

The way he looked at you was enough for you to understand what “celebrating his birthday” implied. Such an amorous look was only preserved for you, with his green hue undressing a little less than your soul and a little more than your body.

Even without touching you, the attraction between your bodies was palpable, drawing the two of you closer together. His hands that constantly ached for a fight were now aching to hold you, and who were you to deny him?

The moment you turned around, you caught sight of a victorious grin, both of you aware of what was to follow. You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to hide your own smile as your hand reached forward. Grabbing a fistful of fabric, you pulled Takasugi down to you, until his body met yours and your lips met his. He sighed softly, his fingers dropping from the door around your waist, capturing you in a tight embrace free of any reservation.

You surrendered yourself to his touch, letting go of his yukata’s collar while his grip only tightened, pinning both your bodies against the door. Unlike the unbearable summer heat, his warmth was more than welcoming, enveloping your entire body down to your hips and thighs. You felt feverish, throwing your arms over his shoulders for him to take over.

Takasugi drew your bottom lip between his teeth, languidly lapping his wet tongue over it before sliding it into your mouth. You tilted your head to the side, a soft hum dissolving at the tip of your tongue as you explored each other's mouth anew. Even when you had memorized his taste, you couldn’t help yourself but seek more of it, completely in love with everything his body had to offer you.

The lack of air had your head spinning around, your only source of oxygen being that of his lungs; the only one you ever needed. With his hips pressing your waist down, he made a mess out of your thighs, your slick entrance drooling for him to fill you up in every way imaginable. Perhaps offering yourself to him as a gift would have been a far better choice than all this running around, you decided, gently bucking your hips forward.

Regrettably, Takasugi was the first to pull away, his sharp breath tickling your nose and lips. Through half-lidded eyes, you took in each other’s image, lust clouding both your features while you drew air from one another, avoiding to close the distance just yet.

His hands reached lower onto your body, possessing your every bit, with your own hand dropping down to his chest. You felt how frantically his heart beat for you, just for you. Time and time again you came to realize that this heart, this body, this man… they all belonged to you. Even if the two of you came to lose everything, you’d still be each other’s most prized possessions, a fact that not even revenge could forsake.

“What are you smirking for?” He asked with a smirk of his own.

Shaking your head, you guided him into another kiss, quick to wipe that cocky expression off his face. Whether you confronted him or not, he’d never admit to being wrapped around your finger, though there was no need to. The way his body reacted to your own spoke volumes, with his mouth granting you access once more and his hips utterly attuned to yours.

In no time, his hands were tugging at your obi, each string of your kimono coming undone between his fingers. You felt the fabric loosen up around your curves, the expensive silk curling into a ball across the tatami.

Left in nothing but your undergarment, you were exposed to his touch, fire spreading through every part his fingers came to brush. You leaned forward until your lips found his neck, smearing open-mouthed kisses all over. He was always the one to mark you with his mouth, acting as if he wanted the whole world to know you were his and only his. It was about time you returned that favor.

Parting your lips, you pursed them at the base of his neck, sucking at his skin until his pale complexion turned into a bright shade of red. Perhaps he’d have a hard time covering that one up, a fact that filled you with unprecedented pride. No future scolding or frowning could take that away from you, though at the moment, he seemed too preoccupied to even care, attempting to fill his hands with as much of you as he possibly could.

Satisfied with the result, you puckered your lips up, peppering gentle kisses down his collar bone, while you held onto his shoulders for support. You couldn’t help but notice how he felt stiffer than usual, your fingertips bumping across the various knots that his muscles formed. Your previous assumptions seemed to be correct, all those exhausting work meetings had taken their toll on his health at last, leaving him nearly drained.

You pulled away from him, catching your own reflection in his eye. Even when the things you were doing were far from innocent, there was a certain purity in his gaze, as for once, the thing his right eye saw had nothing to do with torment, turmoil, or vengeance; tranquil passion having cleansed all that.

Slowly, you brought your other hand to his cheek, watching as he pressed a feather-light kiss in the center of your palm. Your heart skipped a beat, seemingly forgetting all about the words you wanted to share with him. Fucking hell, he had no business looking this lovable, you pondered.

“Let me take care of you.” You requested, brushing a couple of disheveled purple strands off his eye.

Though skeptical at first, Takasugi came to agree, leading you both towards his futon. In a theatrical move, he lifted both hands, prompting you to strip him off his clothes. Snaking your arms around his torso, you took advantage of the position, placing your head on top of his shoulder while your hands worked on undoing his obi. The blue fabric dropped onto the floor, with his purple yukata following soon after.

For a second, you caught yourself gawking at his bare body, your eyes trailing the entirety of him up and down. Thin white lines sprawled across his near flawless complexion, remnants of past conflicts and nearly forgotten treacheries. His body that was hardened by battle and shaped by hardship, remained the most beautiful thing your eyes encountered, a spectacle only second to the sublime features of his face.

Even after all these years, you found it hard to believe that someone had the power of making you feel as if you were experiencing them for the first time all over again, yet Takasugi managed to do just that.

Before he had the chance to reprimand you over your excessive stalling, you brought both hands against his chest, pushing him down onto the covers with great force. At once, his green orb narrowed into a perfect slit, sheer fury taking over his expression. You fought the urge to laugh, ultimately failing to suppress a high pitched giggle that sneaked past your lips.

For most, receiving such a menacing glare from the leader of the Kiheitai meant certain death, yet to you, it only made your heart flutter within your chest. How could you feel any dread when he looked just like that stubborn kid you’d countless of times sparred with in the past?

All funny thoughts dissolved the moment his hand found yours, forcing you to violently crash on top of him. Even then, you couldn’t quite stop laughing at his frown, only pausing to press a hasty kiss atop his crinkled nose. I love you so much, Takasugi Shinsuke. So damn much.

Ignoring his silent protest, you lowered yourself down his thighs, making sure your hands could still reach his upper body. In reality, you’d never attempted to give him, or anyone else for that matter, a massage, though when you came to see how tense he was, you couldn’t possibly turn a blind eye. You wished to bring him some relief, just as he had so many times done for you.

Taking a deep breath, you placed both palms flat over his chest, slowly dragging them up and down his shoulders. You started by applying pressure to your wrists, rolling them hard against his stiffened muscles.

Takasugi began to relax, his scoffing giving way to a contented expression. As promised, he refrained from touching you, with his emerald orb slowly disappearing behind his eyelid. You kept on kneading his hardened skin, gathering all strength on your fingertips as you rubbed him thoroughly, glancing up lest you hurt him.

With each stroke, he appeared more delighted than before, his low breathing producing a sort of melodic sound. You were pleased to see him enjoy himself, though maintaining your movements was quite tiresome for your inexperienced hands. Still, you tried your best to switch both the pace and the pressure up, overextending your little massage session as much as possible for his sake.

Distracted by your technique, you failed to notice how you’d been grinding against his crotch all along. Each time you pushed against him, your hips would follow, pressing down against his over and over again, until a hoarse moan disrupted his once steady breathing.

You froze in place, your eyes quick to spot the red shadow that bloomed across his cheeks. Perhaps the massage was far from being the only reason behind his delight, you realized once you glanced at the solid tent between your thighs.

“Looks like your shoulders aren’t the only stiff thing about you.” You teased, softly palming his clothed erection.

“Go on, then. Take care of that too.” Takasugi cooed, his hands softly brushing over your knees as he compelled you to keep going.

Your fingers worked on undoing the knots of his fundoshi, at last setting him free. His cock sprung between your palms, already at its full length. Slowly, you traced over a vein, your fingers closing in once you reached the head. His reddened tip was already glistening with precum for you, eagerly awaiting to disappear within one of your needy holes.

Drawing your thumb over it, you spread his thick essence all over, inducing a muffled sigh to fall out of Takasugi's lips. You loved how sensitive he was to your touch. Even when getting him to this state wasn't your intention, you couldn't help but smile knowing how hard you'd gotten him.

Bringing a second hand down his length, you clenched your fingers into a pair of fists, firmly pumping him up and down. His size made it hard for your palms to cover all of him, but your gestures compensated plenty for that. Your right hand remained below his head; four fingers lightly twisting around him, with your thumb repeatedly brushing over his tip. At the same time, your left hand came to cup his balls, another moan failing to remain within his lips.

Though Takasugi had never been particularly vocal as a lover, when you were stimulating him like that, it was impossible for him to keep to himself.

“Hm, this doesn’t seem to be working.” You noted once you heard him curse out loud. “If anything, you are stiffer than before… Should I try something different?” You asked, your hands stopping only for a moment.

Despite his eye being shut for the majority of your playtime, he was now watching your every move with bated breath. Slowly, you let go of his cock, bringing your hands between your thighs to pick your undergarment off the way. He wanted you to expose yourself so badly, yet for now he was content with merely glancing at the hardened peaks your nipples formed below the creamy linen.

You lined your hips with his own before finally, sinking down onto him, his entire cock sheathing deep within your gummy walls. His grunt was overshadowed by your moan, the sensation of being whole enough to make you shudder. He was stretching you so good while all you could do was gush over him, your womb aching to be filled to the brim with his seed.

It was his turn to smirk, your reaction bringing him great amusement. Normally he'd be the one to push you down, pleasuring the both of you until your lips could barely shape his name, but for the time, he remained perfectly still. He loved to see you struggle, knowing that even when you'd been together since you were teens, you were still overwhelmed by him.

“Something wrong?” He asked in a condescending tone, conveniently forgetting all about how a moment ago he was the one to lose himself in your hands.

“N-nothing at all.” You stuttered as you attempted to regain your composure. If you gave him the chance, he’d overthrow you without thinking twice.

Dropping your palms back onto his chest, you raised your hips, figuring that it’d be easier for you to keep going with just the tip inside. At a slow pace, you rocked your body against him, sensually drawing circles with your hips all the while maintaining eye contact. His smirk persisted, the only sign to betray his true feelings being that of his fingers as they clenched around the covers below.

“Something wrong?” You taunted in the same tone he used, taking full advantage of his vulnerability.

Takasugi let go of the sheets, bringing both hands around your hips.

“Nothing at all.” He answered with greater confidence.

Even with his fingers gripping you, he didn’t do as much as to guide you in any way. He merely held you in place, patiently awaiting for you to pick your pace back up. Besides, your little mind games brought him plenty entertainment already.

At a much slower pace than before, you repeated the same movements, fully aware of the fact that his patience was gradually wearing thin. You weren’t even sure whether you actually meant to take care of him or test your limits anymore, seemingly achieving both. Either way, you could tell you weren’t the only one having fun with this.

Biting down your lip, you lowered your hips, allowing a little more than half of him to sink into you. It took every bit of self-restraint not to go all the way, your own juices making it easier for him to get sucked deeper into your pussy.

Reaching a hand behind your back, you found the base of his shaft with your fingers, keeping it steady enough for you to lightly bounce onto it. Takasugi pressed his lips together in a straight line, with his fingertips applying slightly more pressure than before. He didn’t cave in just yet, though when your fingers traced over his balls, he couldn’t help but dig his fingertips right into your skin, a bruising sure to follow.

Motivated by his reaction, you tried to sync the movement of your fingers to the movement of your hips, bouncing faster when inevitably, his cock slipped outside your lips. You looked down, hesitating to drive him back in.

Shamelessly, you brought the tip to your slit, wetting it enough for you to glide it over your throbbing clit. A delirious whine evaded your lips, the delicious feeling clouding your mind as you frantically tapped the two together. Even when tonight was all about him, there was no way for you to help yourself, not when it felt so damn good.

Having had enough for the moment, you were about to go back to riding him, when Takasugi rammed his dick so hard into you, that you had no choice but to collapse against his chest, your cry making him chuckle.

“That’s unfair!” You pouted, attempting to lift yourself back up.

“Unfair?” He whispered. “Unfair was having to go all day long without doing this.”

Before you could ask what ‘this’ meant, you felt his hands crawl down your butt, forcing your bodies to grind against each other.

“Why would I need another gift when I can have you, hm?”

The newfound bliss caused your vision to go blurry, the thoughts in your brain replaced by the sole sensation of his cock twitching deep within your heat. Had he asked you earlier, then maybe you’d have an answer to his question, but right now all you could do was bite down at your lip, while he hit all the right spots.

To your surprise, he appeared in no hurry to chase after his much awaited high, merely enjoying the warmth you offered him. Placing two fingers below your chin, he compelled you to look at him, a loving smile erased by your lips. His hands pulled away from your rear, Takasugi allowing you the freedom to move around. Losing yourself in yet another kiss, you claimed his cheeks with your palms, your tongue meeting his while he snaked his arms around your waist.

Tears formed at the corner of your eyes, slipping past your shut eyelids as you both moved against each other, fucking one another in sync with your kiss. Even when it felt like your heart was about to explode, you couldn’t bring yourself to move away from him, relishing every last bit of his body.

“You are more than enough.” He refused to let go, mumbling the words straight into your mouth. “You are mine.” His teeth tugged at your lower lip, before cushioning it all over again. “Mine.”

His sudden confession made your eyes widen, the sheer possessiveness of his voice sending chills down your spine. You always thought that you were the one who chased after him, though right now you were finally able to feel how tight his embrace was, a certain desperation pouring into his kisses as if he feared you’d slip away from his grasp.

“Shinsuke, I-” You began, only to be hushed by yet another kiss.

“Let me handle things from now on.” He said, completely inebriated.

With a small nod, you ushered him to take action, not caring about who got to take care of whom anymore. All you wanted was to finally become one with him.

A swift move of his was all it took to bring you down, your undergarment flying off your body. It was his turn to gawk at you, a slight smile hanging from his lips once he got to savor what you’d kept from him for so long.

The bandages over his head had come undone, their edges drenched by his own sweat. You reached to his face, pulling them out of the way when he claimed your fingers in his palm, pressing your hand down onto the futon. He had no intention of letting you lift as much as a finger.

Once more, he turned the tables on you as he rolled onto his side, pulling your back tight against his chest. With no distance left between your bodies, Takasugi snaked his arms around your waist, one hand spreading your legs open and the other cupping your breast. He kneaded at your soft skin, flicking both your nipples between his fingers, while his lips traveled to your nape, smearing your back with hot kisses.

With his fingers locking behind your knee, Takasugi steadied it around his torso, opening your body for him as much as possible. Unable to resist, you brought your hand between your thighs, gently rubbing circles over your swollen clit. Even when you hadn't had a drop of alcohol, the feeling of being utterly engulfed by him made your head spin.

Sighs evaded your lips one after the other, your fingers clenching around his bandage, while you kept on pleasuring yourself, continuously chanting his name. He was the only one who could make you feel so good, even when the fingers that touched you were yours and not his.

Once he had enough of groping you, Takasugi lowered you onto him, adjusting your position so that he could comfortably penetrate you. His cock brushed over your entrance, eager to slide past your pink lips. Nodding in confirmation, you nestled your head into the crook of his neck, breathing into the faint yet intoxicating scent of sandalwood and cedar. Despite everything, he still smelled so nice.

Taking in your blissful expression, he caressed your hair softly before finally pushing his way in. A strangled sound dropped from your lips as you bit down onto his skin, unable to contain yourself.

“Relax” He muttered in a mellow tone as he thrusted again, earning himself another of your pretty whines.

Each moan of yours sounded like the finest of melodies to his ears, knowing that each whimper was meant for him and him only. Perhaps he relished your reactions more than anything, fixating his pace according to the pitch of your voice. The louder you cried, the harder he went, ferociously rutting his hips in you as if there was no tomorrow.

His hand dropped from your knee onto your stomach, traveling down to your clit. Without disrupting his movements, Takasugi started to rub at it like you previously did, causing your entire body to jolt at the stimulation. Your moans turned into a series of desperate cries as you squirmed on top of him, unsure of whether you were trying to cling harder or to run from the overwhelming pleasure he offered.

“Look at me.”

He instructed in the same gentle voice and you followed, meekly gazing up at him as his lips took over yours. He didn’t care that all you were capable of doing was drool over his jaw, too fucked up to reciprocate the kiss. All he wanted to do was claim your sounds as his own, letting none of them go to waste, swallowing each and every one of them.

Soon, the only sound to remain in his room was that of your cunt squelching, eagerly taking the pounding he gave you. Your hands grabbed at one of his arms, holding onto him while ushering him to go faster. He grunted at the sound of your words, mercilessly keeping it up until your walls started to clamp around his cock.

His pace grew sloppy at the sensation of your cunt clenching around him. You could feel your own legs shaking, pure ecstasy spreading all the way down to your curled up toes, while he chased after his own climax. He was so focused that thin lines were formed upon his forehead, with his brows furrowed together.

"I love you"

Those three little words were all it took for Takasugi to fall out of pace. Thick ropes of his hot seed came pouring into your guts, filling your insides to the brim. His strained expression was completely relaxed when he dived forward, capturing your lips in yet another desperate kiss. Those words that he never allowed himself to say, were easily conveyed by his touch, assuring you that he was as utterly in love with you as you were with him.

Eventually, he pulled away from your mouth, though he remained attached to you in every way possible. His cock was still buried within you, loosely fucking his cum deeper into your hole, until he had no choice but to go limp. You felt his warm essence pouring down your thighs, clinging onto your skin just like he did. His arms remained wrapped around you, holding your body as close to his own as possible. There was nowhere else you’d rather be.

“I’m so happy you were born.” You broke through the silence, once you’d managed to regain your voice.

A hearty laugh followed, with his lips softly pressing onto your forehead.

“Are you now?” In less than a heartbeat you nodded against him, completely certain of your feelings on the matter.

“I guess your birth was one of the less unfortunate events in this world.” He admitted, going back to his usual snarky self.

Too elated to stoop to his level, you nuzzled your head into his chest, your arms caging him within your tight embrace. The light had completely faded from the room, with only the moon attempting to illuminate the space. Mindlessly, Takasugi caressed your shoulder with his thumb, while you hummed a soft tune, one that turned out to be none other than the happy birthday song. Skipping pretty much through all the lyrics, the only words you came to intonate were “my darling commander” right before the end.

“You make it sound as if you only sleep with me for my title.” He scoffed, though not particularly bothered.

Angling your chin to face him, you spared one of your brightest smiles.

“Of course not… my darling Shinsuke.” He was quick to dismiss you by tapping your forehead with his palm, doing his best to disguise his own smile with a hasty frown.

“I never thought someone could actually be fucked silly, but you seem to have lost every bit of common sense.” He mocked, too prideful to ever accept such a term of endearment from your lips. “Now go fetch me my pipe. I need a smoke if I am to tolerate you a second longer.”

Urging you to get up, he pushed you off his arms, forcefully rolling you onto your side. The duality of a man, you murmured under your breath. One moment he could whisper the most loving things to your ears, and the other he went back to treating you as if you were his personal maid. If all those fangirls of his knew of the mistreatment you endured, they wouldn’t stand for it, yet there you were, blindly searching through the darkness for the light switch.

“You know, you were the one who went all like ‘Y/N, spend my birthday with me, I long to nest between your thighs, please surrender yourself to me’.” You nagged, purposely messing up his previous words. “Deal with the consequences.” You went on as your fingers located the switch, light pouring into the room at once.

Surprisingly enough, he seemed to have nothing to counter your childish taunts, resorting to a mere huff. That’s right, he couldn’t even dispute your claims, victory was yours.

“Where is it again?”

He lifted a finger, pointing towards his dresser. You followed, going through the drawers one by one in search of his kiseru. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen him smoke all day long. It was rare for him not to have it on him, considering how he seemed addicted to the rush the bitter tobacco had to offer.

“You know though, smoking right after sex is such a cliché. Who does-” Your sentence was cut short once you peered at the contents of the final drawers, finding more than you’d anticipated.

You blinked your eyes, wondering if you hadn’t actually left the bed, pure disbelief making you question your senses. His kiseru was right there, resting next to a small metallic box, one you could have sworn you’d seen before. Picking it up in your hands, you took a peek at the inside, your suspicions confirmed at the sight of a worn pair of binoculars. Their condition was beyond poor, though there was no doubt; these were the very same binoculars you gifted him all those years ago.

“I never expected you to keep anything from back then.” You admitted, placing the objects back inside the furniture.

“I kept you, didn’t I?” Takasugi shrugged, accepting the kiseru from your hands as he worked on lighting it up.

You stayed silent, lying next to his side. All sorts of thoughts went through your brain, while you traced back to each of your memories in an attempt to analyze his past behavior. The binoculars and the cookie box… could this mean that he returned your feelings long before he admitted to it?

“I will allow it.” His voice interrupted your thoughts, a light gray ring of smoke spiraling past his lips.

“Hm?”

“You can celebrate my birthdays.”

Your eyes widened, an expression of pure awe beaming upon your features.

“I’m only doing it for the free massage. Don’t get full of yourself.” He was quick to add.

“Then, how about we go somewhere nicer next year?” You suggest, forgetting all about his comments and your own contemplation.

Your hands traveled all the way to his neck, with your eyes pleading him for attention.

“I hear Waiiha planet is dreamy this time of the year. Or we could go over to Kagoshima for something quieter. Or-”

A cloud of thick smoke came to hush your words.

“By next year, nothing but ruin will remain.” He smirked, pulling the kiseru away from his lips. “I shall bring this rotten world before your feet.”

“Can’t you at least keep a place for the two of us?” You pouted.

Takasugi tilted his head as he took in your expression, finding himself smiling at your stubbornness.

“As long as we are both around, there will always be a place for us to run to.”

However romantic and grandiose his words came off, you failed to suppress a laughter. He always did that, using such fancy expressions to sway and misdirect you, but after all these years, you’d like to believe you knew better than to fall for it.

“You are so full of shit, Bakasugi.”

His smile twisted into a sneer, with his eye narrowing into another of his infamous glares. Using that ‘nickname’ on him, always irked him beyond compare.

“Can’t you keep Kyoto at least?”

He took another puff, blowing smoke towards the window.

“I can consider Yamagata.”

“Kanagawa?” You pleaded, pulling your entire weight on top of him.

“Don’t push it.”

“What about Hokkaido?” You weaved your fingers through his hair, slightly ruffling them. “I could make you a flower crown.”

Takasugi claimed your hands in his, dragging them down his chest before letting go of them. His expression softened, making it seem as if he didn’t completely oppose your proposition.

“Hokkaido…” He repeated, in a soft manner, one that caused little stars to spiral within your orbs. “Sounds like an enticing destination… for me to spread your ashes.”

“Hey, don’t be so mean!” You protested, throwing a punch at his chest while he giggled.

The two of you kept bickering over potential vacation destinations for quite some time, throwing names of different places until there was no planet, country, city or village left to name. Neither of you agreed to back off, with each insisting on a suggestion of their own.

Without admitting to it, secretly, you wished that by the time his next birthday came around, you’d both be around to celebrate it. Whether it was upon a hilltop or the edge of a coastline, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that you'd see the end of things with him, standing side by side like you'd done every moment up until now.

No matter what, you'd see this one wish through; no matter what you would never let go of him.

[lilac-5ky]

Insomnia (Takasugi x Fem!Reader Oneshot)

A/N: okay, maybe I'm not fine at all after watching SA arc. maybe this is more painful than intended. maybe this is softer than intended. so what? lemme pour my depression into something with this short fic.

spoiler alert: i can't believe i did this in the end.

Plot: You can't sleep and you go to Takasugi for help.

Warning: Emotional Damage

"I can’t sleep."

"Hmm?" Takasugi asked, not bothering to lift his gaze off the assortment of papers on his desk.

The room was quiet, and so was the ship, the only sound you could discern being the quiet rumble of the engines inside the vessel’s bowels. It felt as if the only two people still unaffected by the night were you and him. Even at this time of the day, he refused to take a break, dealing with the most insignificant paperwork all by himself.

Perhaps working himself to this extent offered him some sort of comfort, deluding him into thinking that he was moving forward even when his own heart had seemingly stopped in the past.

"Let me sleep with you." You asked in a voice that sounded more like a command.

"Can’t you see I'm working?" He mumbled, ignoring your presence even as you leaned over his shoulder.

"The Kiheitai thank you for your contribution to our fight with this basket full of yak-" You attempted to read his scribbling when he snatched it away from your sight.

"Whom are you trying to thank with Yakult? Is it our new allies?"

Takasugi flipped the letter upside down, propping his elbows on top of it. He didn’t mean for you to pry into his business, though you couldn’t help but smile at his simplicity. Even when he was a man who could read into the wants of others with ease, he always struggled with the simplest things, such as thanking or apologizing to someone.

"If you sleep with me, I’ll take care of your letter for you."

"Aren't you daring." He pointed out, crumbling the paper into a ball.

Despite his snarky comment, you could see his green orb shimmer at the sound of your words, visibly interested in your proposition. After all, you were far better at such mundane and inconspicuous things than he could ever aspire to be.

Defeated, Takasugi let out a sigh, dragging his chair off to the side.

"Five letters. And you’d better keep the gift appropriate," he said, moving towards the corner where his covers lied "they aren’t our friends. Just foul cards to be discarded in the next round."

"With yakult setting the bar, I think I'll manage." You smiled, watching as he set the futon onto the floor.

Although his back was turned on you, you could already feel the irritation exuding from his body. With his nose shriveling and his bottom lip twitching ever so slightly, Takasugi’s menacing aura was enough to cloud the entire room.

"Will you stop fooling around?"

Instead of picking a fight or arguing back, he lied against the futon, covering his lower half with the covers.

"Won’t you switch to something else?" You asked, nodding at his purple yukata.

It wasn’t particularly rare for him to sleep in his everyday clothes, considering most of the time he was forced to be en garde. Such special privileges come with being a world class terrorist.

"Just shut it and sleep already." He mumbled against the pillow, patting for you to lie beside him.

"Yes, sir." You humored once you’d comfortably slipped underneath the covers.

It was so nice and warm. Him, that was.

"Shinsuke?" You asked, pressing your body tight against his.

"I know, I know."

A pair of arms snaked around your waist, enclosing you in a snug embrace. He knew you so well, you noted as you squeezed your eyes shut. You always felt safe in his arms; it’d be only a matter of minutes for you to drift off.

Or so you thought.

After fifteen minutes that felt more like a millennia passed, you felt your own eyelids protesting. Forcing them shut had no effect on you. No matter what, you just couldn’t fall asleep.

"Shinsuke?" You asked again, in a quieter voice than the one you used before. "Are you sleeping?"

Rather than giving you an answer, he simply sighed, his hot breath lightly tingling the shell of your ear.

"Can’t you help me a bit more?"

For a moment, it was so quiet that the only sound in the room was that of his breathing heaving against your back. Could he have fallen asleep already? Had you misheard?

"What should I do?" Takasugi asked in a breathy tone. Perhaps he was more tired than he’d like to admit.

"Well… how about you narrate a story for me? Your voice is… soothing." You admitted.

"Why do I have to engage in Kamishibai this late?" He protested, attempting to drag his arms away.

 

"N-no, it’s fine." You said, fixing his arms back in place. "How about we talk then?"

"Is there something on your mind?" He asked.

You took about a minute to contemplate everything that transpired today. Unfortunately, it was a rather mundane day with nothing particularly interesting or bothersome happening.

"…Not really."

A muffled chuckle echoed from behind.

"You are hopeless." He scoffed, pressing his lips closer to your ear. "You’d better listen carefully now."

To your surprise, Takasugi began to talk on his own, mindlessly monologuing about his future plans and other work-related subjects, such as upcoming missions and the complex strategies Takechi’d come up with. He didn’t shy away from details either, babbling to you about the new types of ammo he’d cashed in, as well as the individual prices for each cargo.

You could tell he was doing his best to bore you, bringing up technicalities that neither of you found particularly fascinating, but when such technicalities were spoken in his voice, you had a hard time not paying attention. You could listen to him talk for the rest of eternity if needed.

Once he was done listing every single thing from his to-do list, he started talking about matters that involved your crew-mates. From Matako accidentally knocking Takechi out when he impersonated him and Bansai taking an extended leave to compose new songs for that pop idol, to Kamui following him around like some sort of bloodthirsty hound, demanding a duel every living moment of his life.

All the while he talked about his friends, a hint of warmth had seeped into his words, one that he’d never openly admit to possessing. Thinking of his comrades and friends as disposable tools had always been easier on him, even when neither he nor you believed that. To them, his ties with them were perhaps some of the most important of those he’d forged. In his own way, he cared to preserve each and every one of them, silently protecting all of you with his blade through thick and thin. That’s just the kind of man he was.

You had no idea how much time had passed, your ears attuned to his voice and your lids bating along to his words. If asked, you’d fail to retrace everything he’d said, though that didn’t stop you from listening intently to his every word with a smile on your face. It was rare for him to be so open without nagging, and it really was nice of him to give it a try, but... your problem was still there. You still failed to sleep.

"… And because of that, I doubt those Hitotsubashi goons will value their... word." He concluded, a soft yawn intercepting his sentence.

"You are right, they can’t be trusted. Such people only deal in power and money, they care about neither affiliation nor allegiance."

"You are still awake?" He asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

He must have thought that after subjecting you to such a prolonged lecture, you would have finally fallen asleep, yet you were still there.

"I’m sorry… I couldn’t help but pay attention. After all, you remain my commander." You said, admittedly embarrassed.

Somehow, having such an intimate relationship with the man who was supposed to be your boss always made you feel a bit giddy. Out of all the women on board, out of all the women in the world, you were the one he’d chosen, the one who shared everything with him, his bed and life included.

"Then as your commander, I command you to sleep."

"It doesn’t work like this!" You objected, bumping your elbow onto his stomach.

Takasugi heaved another sigh. It wasn’t as if you meant to torture him, really. Most of the time, lying by his side was all it took for you to doze off, though that wasn’t the case at the moment. Neither his ramblings nor his hugs were enough to lull you to sleep.

That’s it!

"I have an idea!" You exclaimed. "How about you sing something for me?"

A strangled sound followed your words, presumably from his side. If you didn’t know any better, you would have mistaken that for him choking.

"Are you out of your mind?" He asked in disbelief.

Though you couldn’t see it, a light shade of red bloomed across his cheeks, the proposition alone being enough to abash him.

"I think I can fall asleep to your voice if there are no words for me to read into."

You turned your head around, attempting to steal a glimpse of his face when he averted his eye from yours, trying his best to keep his own embarrassment to himself.

"Please?" You begged, briefly nuzzling his neck.

The faint smell of tobacco was etched in his yukata’s hem, though it didn’t bother you. If anything, his scent had always been a source of comfort.

"If you fail to sleep this time, you are on your own." He muttered in a strict tone. "Turn around."

Obliging, you shifted to your original position, curling your body in between his arms. You were so excited that it was hard to keep to yourself. You couldn’t believe this was about to happen.

Takasugi took a final deep breath before pursing his lips together, producing a soft, near-inaudible sound that imitated a hum. At first you failed to recognize the song, the lack of lyrics giving you no clues as to what it was, yet that melody sounded oddly familiar. It wasn’t until he began to sparsely spell the lyrics that you realized his song was a traditional nursery rhyme, one meant as a lullaby.

Beyond that mountain, back to her home.

As a souvenir from her home, what did you get?

A toy drum and a small bamboo flute.

The way he sang for you was so intimate that before you knew it, you could feel your own heart thumping inside your chest to the rhythm. His voice was deep yet mellow, the affection he held for you pouring out of his every word while he cradled you, occasionally pressing his fingers tighter against your body.

"Y/N?" His humming had come to a stop, yet your eyes remained wide open.

There was no way for you to get any sleep that night, and for the first time, you were content with that. Even when Takasugi was right there, a part of you kept missing him no matter how many nights you slept together or how many mornings you woke up next to each other. No matter how much he gave to you, you always found yourself selfishly asking for more. You wanted all of him, all he had to give, just him.

"Y/N?" He asked again, gently prompting you to answer, while you did your best to remain still.

He’d already tried his best, there was no reason to keep requesting his aid. For now, pretending to have fallen asleep while comfortably resting in his arms was enough.

Once he made sure you had passed out, you felt his nose along with his lips pressing against the back of your head, planting a soft kiss on your hair.

"You have some nerve keeping me up only to sleep so soundly." He scoffed, no malice in his tone whatsoever.

"The least you can do is sleep well. As for me, I…"

He seemed hesitant. Even when he thought you were asleep, whispering those three little words was a task impossible for him. As long as he didn’t admit his feelings to you, as long as he kept them hidden in his heart, then maybe you wouldn’t slip away from him. Maybe withholding them from you was enough to save you from his curse.

"I…" He began again, only to hesitate once more.

"I hope the day will come when I can share those words with you. Perhaps after everything is settled... no," He shook his head, the tip of his nose rubbing against your nape. "We both know that day won’t come.

 

"In that case, I promise that until the day this wretched heart stops beating, it shall only beat for you. I... love you."

His words felt heavier than lead as they poured out of him, forcing your eyes to well up. You wanted to return them, to tell him and prove him just how much you loved him, but for now, all you could do was keep your eyes closed, silently weeping in your pretend slumber.

Until that day comes, my heart is yours. I love you, too.

[lilac-5ky]

giving takasugi a "hand"

A/N: Somehow I've been thinking about handjobs a lot lately lmao. Anyways, there is some plot to it as always, so not just your average NSFW Takasugi oneshot.

Warning: smut ^^ and uh, didn't have the time to properly proofread, praying it's good enough.

You were walking down the corridors of the ship, a folder tightly held against your chest, with a smile that beamed brighter with each step. After a rather difficult mission had succeeded, you were more than happy to be the one to deliver the report to Takasugi yourself. You didn't expect a 'thank you' or even a smile or anything to indicate his appreciation, but even so, getting to see him was enough for you.

He was always a busy one and understandably so. What others called a suicide mission was a goal of a lifetime for him, as much as it was for you and the other Kiheitai members. The world wasn't gonna self-destruct and the government wouldn't fall on its own. You all had a part to play in this, and as expected, he was the one to shoulder the heaviest burden.

You may have whined before about the nature of your missions, but when compared to Takasugi's workload, they seemed nothing but puny. As the leader, he was the one who had to meet with everyone personally, the one who had to not only call the shots but also fire them, if needed. Even though all of you tried your best, there was so much left for him to do, never giving him a moment to rest.

As one of his most trusted allies and, above all, his friend—a fact he chose to occasionally forsake and ignore— you oftentimes found yourself wondering about how you could be of better use to him. You had never disappointed him so far, or so you liked to think. Every mission he assigned to you turned out to be a success, that was met with a meek nod, accompanied by a dry 'good, you may go now'.

Whenever you tried to ask him whether he needed anything, he usually shook his head dismissively, keeping to himself. He was so stubborn that if you pressed him with your offers of help, it wouldn't take too long to get on his bad side. Still, sharing your little successes with him was good enough. Results were all that mattered to him, and you could at the very least be given an excuse to check up on how he was doing.

"Taka-" Taking a moment to look around, you realized that no one was around. No need for formalities, then. "Shinsuke, I'm back with rather impressive resuuuults~" You spoke with a singing voice, opening the door without knocking, a notion you came to immediately regret.

Unable to hold back a squeal, you shut the door quickly, taking a step back. Your eyes unintentionally widened before repeatedly blinking. Did you see correctly? Was Takasugi really jerking himself off, or were you imagining stuff? But there was no way you could have, right? Not when the image of his hand wrapped around his cock was so vivid, not when you had managed to take a peek at it.

After a while of sitting outside the door like a stray animal, you heard his voice, inviting you in. Gulping, you realized that running away and pretending this whole thing didn't happen was no longer an option.

Takasugi was sitting on top of his bed, his palms flat against his knees while looking quite literally into space. His expression seemed slightly off, a hint of a blush staining his cheeks, while his lips were tightly pressed in a straight line. He was visibly fighting to keep his composure, and, if you weren't feeling so awkward yourself, you might have found this whole incident entertaining.

"Uhm..." Your voice made him look up at you, or rather glare at you. "I came to bring you today's report? I mean, yeah, I did! The results are quite satisfying, you'll find. "

"Sit." He beckoned, patting the spot beside him.

Reluctantly, you followed, sitting by his side as ordered, while doing your best to focus on the original purpose behind your visit. You pulled a handful of papers out of the folder, giving a quick look at the pages while shuffling them in the correct order.

"So, as you can see," you began, your finger trailing along the lines of the first page, "that old geezer agreed to your proposition, giving us both ammunition and new equipment. Apparently it's the best on the market, so I don't think we'll need to restock any time soon. And if you look here, I have the exact numbers written as well as-" You were about to flip to the next page when your gaze fell on him, or rather a part of him.

Even after going through such an embarrassing time, his bulge was still forming a tent beneath the fabric of his yukata, a fact that was enough to throw you off your train of thought. He was dressed up, but while looking at it, the image of his bare cock resurfaced in your brain, clouding it with unwelcoming and indecent thoughts.

"As uh... no, uh... yeah, okay. As well as the exact type of the weapons. For example, if you look here, you can see the price corresponding to the cocks~ GLOCKS, I mean glocks! "

Oh god, this was bad. This was sooooo bad. First you couldn't focus at all on what was written on the paper, and now you had made such a horrible slip of the tongue. If there was a surefire way to make an uncomfortable situation more uncomfortable, then this had to be it.

Looking up at him, you expected to see his green orb narrowing into a slit, shooting you his signature contemptuous glare, though much to your surprise, that was far off from the truth. That blush you had noticed upon entering his room had now spread to his entire face. He tried his best to mask his current expression by furrowing his eyebrows, but there was no denying it; Takasugi was flustered!

This was the first time you were seeing him in such a light. Despite what others claimed about Takasugi, you'd always known that he had a kinder, sweeter even, side to him, one he barely showed since the war was over. You had witnessed many aspects of him, having the privilege to see Takasugi as a friend, a comrade, a boss, perhaps even a mentor.

You had seen more of him than most people had, yet even so, your relationship was kept at a strictly professional and platonic level. Feelings of romantic and sexual nature had been out of the question, but as of this moment, there was no way to keep your lewd and intrusive thoughts at bay. Perhaps catching a glimpse of him during such an intimate act had done the trick, sparking an interest for him that you didn't know you possessed. After all, Joui extremist or not, you were still a woman and he was still a man. A rather handsome and charming man, that was.

"I see." Takasugi said, picking up the papers from your hands. "What about the thing I asked of you?" He carried on while browsing through the content, unbothered by your spacing out.

"Let's just say he won't be a problem anymore."

"Good. You worked very hard, Y/N. "

Oh come on, did he really have to use that word? It wasn't a lie that you had worked your ass off for that particular mission, but couldn't he say "well done" or "good job" or anything other than a word that could describe both your effort and his erection?

"Shinsuke?" Your question had him tilting his head towards you. "This might be too... you know, but... would you like some help with that?" You motioned at his lower half, unable to realize that you had actually said such a thing to him. But then again, you were never that good at keeping your thoughts to yourself.

Silence befell the room, the intolerable kind that made you wonder whether he had heard you in the first place, or not. He was looking straight into your eyes, but he appeared to be lost in his own thoughts for a minute. Surely, your proposition might have been a bit too daring, but then again, you weren't the one who played with herself in an unlocked room in the middle of the day.

If anything, you were presented with a rare opportunity to actually help him out with his load, both figuratively and literally. If you could do this one thing for him, then he'd be relieved and you'd feel a bit better when it came to letting him handle everything by himself.

After about an entire minute went by without either of you saying a word to each other, you were convinced that he was going to turn you down. After all, it made no sense for him to let you do such a thing, not after being just friends for many years on end. At this point, it wouldn't be surprising if your gender in his mind had changed from 'female' to 'comrade'. That's right, he probably wouldn't agree, it was a silly idea.

"Fine." Takasugi eventually said, stuffing the papers back into the folder, oblivious to your distressed expression.

Even though you were the one to bring this up, you never thought he would actually be willing to go through with it. Yet there he was, his hands fidgeting with the obi of his yukata until it was undone.

Spreading his legs apart, he leaned slightly back, propping his body onto his elbows. You studied his expression carefully, semi expecting this to be a prank, though you came to understand that he was being just as serious as you were when you first suggested it. Taking a deep breath, you shed every last bit of hesitation before finally moving closer to him.

The hem of his yukata that usually left his chest exposed had moved even lower, revealing every single line of his body to you. From his toned chest to the hardened muscles of his stomach, you could see everything; every scar, every mark he had gained from his battles, though it wasn't too surprising to find his complexion near spotless. After all, Takasugi rarely lost.

Landing your hand onto his chest, you couldn't help but heave a sigh. He felt warm to the touch, his heart vibrantly pulsating underneath your fingertips, indicating that this wasn't just some wet dream of yours, rather an unfamiliar reality you were experiencing together. Takasugi kept his eye glued to your hand, keenly observing your every movement while you took your time exploring his body. This was a one in a million chance after all.

Once you reached his lower abdomen, you found yourself holding back. Were you really going to do this? There was no doubt, you wanted to help him out. That's what friends are for, you reminded yourself. Friends... that was a funny word to use, considering you were at eye level with his cock, its tip appearing to be tinted in a pale shade of red, aching for you to touch it.

Carefully, you placed your palm just below his tip, wrapping your fingers around it. He felt firm and warm, much warmer than the rest of his body. Tightening your grip, you brought your thumb onto the head, gently rubbing circles around it, until you felt him twitching upwards, a low grunt escaping his lips. You looked up at him, unable to hide your smile upon noticing his expression. You could've never imagined him being this vulnerable and willing. Though you wouldn't say you had him wrapped around your finger, being in control of him like this filled you with a certain confidence.

"Shinsuke, you know, you can rely on me." You said, keeping your eyes on him while slowly dragging your grip down to the base of his shaft. "You keep handling everything by yourself and..." You brought it back up again, Takasugi watching you with bated breath. "While we are thankful to have such a competent leader, there are times you should let others do more for you. Especially in times like this. "

"That's considerate of you." He said with a smirk. You knew that getting him to let you help wouldn't be so easy, but that was a start.

You lowered yourself on top of him, breathing onto his cock. Your lips were hovering right above, without ever touching it. Part of you wondered what it'd be like to take him in your mouth, though perhaps that would be more than either of you bargained for. Instead, you lolled your tongue out, letting your drool provide some much needed wetness. Once the tip was covered, glistening with the thin coat of your fluids, you picked up on some of the impromptu lube, spreading it all over his length. It was much easier to move now, your fist effortlessly sliding up and down. 

After you had picked up a solid pace, you looked at him again, surprised to find him still watching. Even now, he couldn't completely surrender to your hands, he had to be in control.

"Were you close?" You asked him, not breaking your rhythm.

He shook his head dismissively.

"What managed to get you this hard in broad daylight? You have a secret girlfriend or something? " You joked in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

Takasugi smiled, one of his cryptic smiles that could mean just about anything in the world.

"Hmm, but if that was the case, then why isn't miss secret girlfriend around to take care of you? Perhaps she doesn't like you? " You teased him, fully aware of the fact that while you'd been immune to his charms, the same could not be said for the rest of the female Kiheitai members. After all, anyone with eyes could see how good looking he was, and that alluring aura of his only intensified his appeal.

Scoffing, he shook his head once again.

"Then... what is it? What were you thinking about while doing such a thing?" You pressed further, your hand repeatedly rotating around his length, forcing a sigh out of his lips.

"Were you perhaps thinking about me?" With a devilish smile, you placed your other hand onto his balls, fondling them with great care.

"Now I am." Takasugi admitted, his voice slightly exasperated as you continued to massage him.

"You are?" You paused for a second, unable to hold your own surprise. "What kind of thoughts are you having about me?"

"About how you are skilled at more than one thing, dimwit." He smirked, entertained by your impressionable expression.

Even though he insulted you, why was it that you felt rather pleased by his praise? You wanted to do a good job for him, and his words served as motivation for you to put your all into this.

Pulling your hands off of his body, you crawled on top of him, pressing his chest back down against the sheets. A perplexed expression rose to his face while he looked at you, unsure of what it was that you were trying to do. Reaching behind your back, you tugged at the fabric of your obi, loosening it up enough for your kimono to fall below your shoulders, exposing your breasts to him. At this point, moving things a bit further wouldn't hurt.

Takasugi glanced at your semi-naked body, seemingly enjoying the view you offered him with a crooked smile. This was the first time you were seeing each other like that, though neither you nor he seemed too mindful of that. If anything, seeing him look at you like that, not shying away from your bare chest, was enough to turn you on.

Returning your attention to his dick, you stacked your hands on top of one another around his length, struggling to cover as much area as possible. Even with both hands on him, you struggled to fit him into your palms. After all, he was quite big for your small, delicate fingers. Forming a grip with both fists, you began twisting them in opposing directions, moving them up and down in a continuous motion. Takasugi failed to muffle a moan, and soon enough, droplets of precum appeared on the head of his shaft, a telltale sign that you were doing well.

"Is this good?" You asked for confirmation, in spite of already knowing the answer. Rather than replying, he reached a hand to your chest, gently wrapping his fingers around your tit before squeezing it. Everything you were doing was for his enjoyment, but it didn't take too long for you to find yourself longing for more from him. Perhaps you were better friends than one might have expected.

"Want me to go faster?" You were too caught up in the moment, your voice coming out breathier than before.

Receiving a nod from him, you moved your palms quicker, feeling him tense underneath your fingertips with each stroke. Relaxing a grip, your thumb moved back onto his tip. You rubbed at it in a circular motion, with the rest of your fingers falling right under his head, consistently pumping his length while paying extra attention to that sweet spot of his.

Though Takasugi wasn't too vocal, you could hear his panting growing heavier over time. His lips were parted, curses getting caught at his tongue while his eye fell shut. He had let go of your breasts, his fingers gripping the sheets below him. Fuck... not in a million years would you expect him to look this way while receiving pleasure. His current expression completely clashed with his otherwise composed and rather cold demeanor, to the point of making you wonder whether this was the same Takasugi Shinsuke you grew up with.

Unable to help yourself, you leaned closer to him, your one hand still stroking his length, with the other keeping your body balanced on top of him. Takasugi opened his eye at the sudden shift of position, his eyelashes weighing his lid down.

"I didn't know you could be this cute, Takasugi-kun."

It had been ages since you called him by that name, fully aware of how much the sound of it annoyed him. Surely enough, he was glaring at you, a menacing aura clouding his otherwise endearing expression. Irritated by your comment, he locked his legs around you, causing you to fall right on top of him.

Though you barely managed to keep your forehead from bumping into his, the rest of your bodies were completely connected. His heart was beating against yours, your legs were tangled up together, but more importantly, his cock was pulsating right between your thighs. You were coming to regret choosing such a short kimono to wear today. All this fooling around, had made a mess out of you, wetness seeping through the fabric of your panties with your clit throbbing against his tip. There was no way he couldn't tell how affected you were, though you weren't doing a great job hiding it to begin with. Your breathing had come to an halt along with your movements, it was as if the world around you had frozen in time.

"Who's the one acting cute now?" Takasugi exclaimed, seemingly letting go of his grudge as he tightened the grip around your ankles.

You didn't need to look into a mirror to know that you were blushing uncontrollably. First his body, now his words. Somehow he had managed to flip the tables on you completely.

Your hand was still attached to his cock, trapped between your bodies, making it near impossible for you to move around. Keeping it there, you could only press him harder to your folds, a wild thought crossing your brain while you did just that. If you pushed the fabric to the side, only by a little bit, then he'd be able to slip right in. Having him around your fingers felt quite nice, so nice that you couldn't help but imagine how much nicer it'd be to feel him inside of you. Would that relieve him? Would that relieve you?

The more you indulged into this idea, the hotter it felt between your legs. At the moment, perhaps you wouldn't be too opposed to even going all the way with him, a thought you'd rather keep to yourself.

"I thought you wanted to help me out. Go on, help me." He spoke in a raspy voice, one that sent chills up your spine.

That's right, this wasn't about you, this was about him, you reminded yourself once again. Yet, even so, rather than moving just your hand to please him, your entire body began to move against his, your hips grinding together. The friction felt so good that it had your eyes squeezing shut, your breathing growing quite heavy while you relished the sensation of his hard cock hitting your swollen clit. Yes, this was about him, but you wouldn't deny yourself something that felt this amazing. 

Placing a hand on your back, Takasugi held you closer to him, urging you to keep on going, to keep on rubbing against one another. Perhaps right now, you were the best of friends.

"You are so quiet now." He observed, his voice making your eyes pop open.

His lips were right below yours, wettened by his own sweat while he breathed into your mouth. Despite dry humping one another, going as far as to kiss him was still out of the question. That was a thing only people who really liked each other did, unlike you two. If you pressed your lips together, then that'd be the same as sealing the deal. No, you could never do such a thing with him, yet... perhaps a taste wouldn't be so bad, not when they were practically inviting you to close the gap-

Cutting through your thoughts, you briefly felt his body tensing up before finally letting go, warm ropes of cum spilling all over your hand and clothing. That was enough to break your trance, dissipating the dark clouds of your unspoken impulses. You had been so preoccupied with staring at him that you had somehow forgotten how close he was to coming. Well, maybe it was better that way. The less you complicated things, the better it was for your friendship.

Not letting him realize what you'd been thinking about, you went back to straddling him. The last thing you wanted was him asking you questions you'd be in no position to answer.

Takasugi sat back onto his bed, with his legs still around you as he leaned towards his nightstand. Grabbing a handful of tissues, he offered them to you as a means to clean yourself up. Once your hand was clean, you used the rest of the tissues to tap them along the edge of your kimono, attempting to get the cum stain off the fabric, though much to your dismay, it was pointless. No matter what you tried, it persistently clung onto your clothes, the stubborn seed of a stubborn man. Goddamn it. 

A sardonic smile spread onto his features, while he watched your failed attempts. He was too entertained by your struggle, a fact that he didn't bother to hide. Tilting his body closer to you, his hands picked up on your sleeves, working on covering your shoulders and chest up while he himself remained undressed. 

"Looks like you have no choice but to walk back dressed like this. I wonder what kind of excuse you'll come up with, should anyone ask." He cooed into your ear.

"Excuse?" You got on both feet, tying your obi around your waist. "That won't be needed. I'll just tell them that the great Takasugi Shinsuke, whom they so dearly revere, found me soooooo appealing that he had no choice but to shoot his load all over me. "

Rolling his eyes, Takasugi let out a strangled chuckle. He knew that you wouldn't actually say such a thing, although to be fair, he wouldn't put it past you. After all, this wasn't the first time either of you acted all degenerate to tease and taunt one another.

Despite what had just occurred between you, it was rather refreshing to see him fall back to his old ways. You had missed this side of Takasugi, you had missed your friend, though you weren't so sure you could keep calling him just that, after all. Still, that was an issue for future you to deal with.

Flashing a smile at him, you turned around, moving closer to the door. If you stayed any longer, you'd be overstaying your welcome. 

Just as you were about to leave the room, the mention of your name made you stop. He was on his feet, his yukata lazily thrown over his body, while disheveled strands of purple peeked from underneath his bandage. His signature smirk remained on his lips, complementing his scruffy appearance greatly. 

Takasugi found himself leaning against the frame, his fingers wrapping around the door knob. 

"I'll see you with next week's report." He said, as he opened the door in an attempt to see you off. Obliging, you took a couple of steps away, when you realized he wasn't done talking. 

"And Y/N... I expect you to work even harder next time."

Somehow you got the feeling that this wasn't going to be the last time you were helping him.

[lilac-5ky]

Takasugi College Roommate AU

A/N: There is an excruciatingly small amount of AUs about Gintama, especially when it comes to best boy Shinsuke. I had this random idea come to me and before I knew it, my own thirst guided me to write it! The theme is quite simple, an innocent cohabitation leading to not so innocent thoughts which in return lead to, well, smut.

Warning: This is a pure THIRST fic, don't get fooled by the extensive "prologue" leading to the main course. It's full on smut and about sexual feelings, seduction, yada, yada, yada.

Getting yourself into college, you’d have never considered that you’d end up sharing a flat with a roommate, let alone a guy on top of that. Yet, certain circumstances had pushed you to it, and before you knew it, you were out there, checking ad after ad, hoping that you wouldn’t run into any scammers or weirdos, for that matter. And this is how you met Takasugi Shinsuke, the guy who’d become your roommate.

Takasugi was a guy you’d never encountered on campus, despite him claiming that he’d spotted you at college grounds before. You were a freshman while he was a junior, his major being one of the biggest mysteries about him. The first time you tried to ask him about it, he’d brushed you off with a smirk, merely walking ahead of you while showing you around.

His apartment was close enough to the campus and a steal compared to the rent you’d be forced to pay, should you opt for one of the other choices. Even if he didn’t seem like the most talkative guy, even if he frankly seemed a bit shady, you knew that there was nowhere else to go, and thus, your cohabitation began.

At first, the two of you barely interacted, the words you’d exchange on a daily basis consisting of ‘hi’, 'good morning’ and 'bye’. Your schedules pretty much never overlapped, with him being at home when you were in class, and vice versa. There was no real chance for the two of you to sit around and share as much as a cup of coffee, yet you couldn’t complain. The house was always clean and he never gave you a reason to argue with him. Even if oftentimes it felt like living with a ghost, there was no denying it, he was the perfect roommate.

And so, for such a perfect roommate, you ended up falling. It was something you hadn’t planned, something that barely made any sense. You knew next to nothing about him, and he didn’t seem too interested in knowing you either. Most likely, a combination of physical attraction and thirst clouded your judgment, causing you to disregard any hint of logic residing within your brain. It was so hopeless and nonsensical that, while you wanted to get rid of such unnecessary feelings, nothing could stop you from going the extra mile.

For starters, there was that time you stalled giving him the rent money, just so that he could come ask for it himself. You were lying flat on your stomach inside your room, your legs crossed, waiting for him.You knew he was home, and so, you opted for a pair of shorts, one that revealed your legs and thighs to him. If he was going to be visiting you, then the least you could do was look pretty for him.

However, much to your disappointment, he seemed to be paying no attention to you. Even when you walked over to him to hand him the bills, he still disregarded you, simply spewing a 'thanks’ before walking out the door.

After that incident, you were beyond disheartened, yet you had no intention of giving up. You weren’t even sure what you hoped to achieve, but even then, you couldn’t hold back. You wanted him to see you, you wanted him to look at you the way you looked at him. Takasugi was the kind of guy who’d managed to completely entice you, despite not trying at all. Yes, perhaps it made little sense. Perhaps what drew you to him was as simple as his dashing looks, but if that was the case, you had all the more reason to pursue him. As long as you could get it out of your system, then things could go back to normal.

If you were to earn the attention of someone as unapproachable and disinterested, you had to somehow step up your game. Operation 'seducing your roommate" has officially commenced!

Thankfully, with the beginning of the second semester, your schedules started to overlap quite a lot, a gift from the heavens, really. Most days, he’d be back by late afternoon, with your final class for the day ending right before noon, giving you the chance to set things up before he returned home.

To begin with, rather than spending your evenings locked in your room, you’d start to watch TV in the living room. Each time you did, you made sure to wear your tightest clothes, conveniently sitting in a way that gave him the perfect view. Whether he was an ass, tits, or thighs kinda guy, you had no idea, and so, each time you’d reveal another piece of you. From short skirts, to 'forgetting’ to put on a bra, you had done it all, to no avail. Takasugi would glance at you, acknowledging your existence in the space, before moving to his own room. Part of you hated that you were doing all this for such an ignorant guy, but if you were to be honest, the way he ignored you was enough to turn you on even more. You weren’t about to give up like this.

The next thing you tried, was 'oh so clumsily’ getting your panties-yes, the expensive lacy ones- tangled up with his laundry. That was bound to entice him, right? You couldn’t go wrong with that, right? Yet somehow, he once again proved to you that he was a tough target. There was no way a guy could deliver you your own underwear as if it was nothing, but then again, Takasugi was no ordinary guy. His green eyes barely batted when you took your panties from his hands, meekly spelling out a 'sorry, won’t happen again, roomie’. Another failure.

By that point, you were getting real desperate. It wasn’t as if you’d previously had mad success when it came to seducing people, but, after having tried just about every trick in the playbook, there was nothing more to be done. Perhaps he had a girlfriend. Someone as good looking as he was, is bound to attract the attention of women left and right. Believing that he was single was a stupid thought to begin with. But then again, if he had a girlfriend, then wouldn’t he bring her over or something? Or at least spend some actual time with her? No, maybe that wasn’t it. Perhaps the answer to your question was much simpler; perhaps he... just wasn't that into you.

This particular thought began to weigh you down, putting a halt to your efforts. Even if you stripped naked before him, he’d probably brush you over, if not offer you a blanket to cover up. Such was his indifference, that he left you with no other choice than to give up. At least for the time being.

On a day when you’d felt your hopes and dreams absolutely shattered, you decided to rummage through the kitchen in search of ice cream. Or anything sweet, really.

It was a quarter past ten, and as far as you were concerned, Takasugi wasn’t home, which was odd for him, but you weren’t about to over think it. yes you were Tiptoeing, your hands reached out to the freezer above your head, pulling out an assortment of frozen vegetables before you finally spotted it; the final pint of chocolate Baagen Dash. Victory!

As you were about to drag it outside, you started to face resistance. Some leftover water had turned into ice around it, keeping it entombed in the depths of the freezer. You pulled at it harder, grunting while doing your best to keep your legs on the ground, until you felt the hold of the ice subduing. Yet, it was too early to celebrate. The second you managed to get it out, you felt the earth moving under your feet, a shriek escaping your lips as you braced yourself for your fall, a fall that never came.

A pair of arms got wrapped around your waist, stabilizing you right before your head could hit the floor. You looked up, feeling your own heart pumping from the scare, a feeling that only increased when you realized that the one who was holding you was none other than Takasugi himself.

For a second, you found yourself getting lost in his eyes, repeatedly blinking in disbelief with your lips parting in awe. His hands had never done as much as shake yours, but now, these very hands of his were touching your body. His warmth, his closeness, things you had previously only been able to imagine, were right there, driving the heat to rise to your cheeks. You’ve had all these lewd thoughts about him, but now that it was actually him, that he was actually there, you were at a loss.

"Is that my ice cream?" Even his voice felt dreamy, a sound you had been so deprived of.

"Yes." You answered without really processing what you had just said. No matter what he asked you in such a moment, the only answer you could give him was 'yes’.

"Hmph." He scoffed, his gaze traveling to the freezer and the ice that was poking from the open door. "You wanted it that much?"

'The ice cream or you’ was something that you’d like to reply to him, but rather than doing so, you just nodded, a notion that earned you a smirk.

"You want to share?" He was asking all these pointless questions with such poise, while you were quite literally melting around his fingertips.

Another nod.

"And what will you do for me if I share?"

"Anything." Perhaps giving such a response wasn’t particularly wise or smart coming from you. However, it wasn’t wrong either. There was nothing you wouldn’t do to get yourself in his pants, or more like, the other way around.

Takasugi chuckled softly, lifting you back to your own feet, before walking towards the drawer. Your mind was circling, frantic thoughts running through your mind. The primary concern was regarding you, namely, the way you looked.

Considering how you’d decided to give up on your little seduction operation, you hadn’t tended to your appearance at all. You were wearing nothing but a plain old baggy t-shirt, one that was long enough to conceal your thighs, though not in the most flattering way. Your hair was up in a messy bun, while this time, you had actually forgotten to wear a bra. Speaking of undergarments, you’d die to know that the kind of panties you had selected, were one of the more childish choices in your wardrobe; pink with small white bunnies. Goddamn it, the one time he’d chosen to show up, you completely blew it.

"Here." He broke through your thoughts, handing you a spoon. You were so distracted that for a second, you were unsure what it was for, barely remembering that the reason for your random encounter had been no other than your sweet tooth.

Takasugi was still half-smiling as he made his way to the living room, taking a seat by the couch, with you trailing behind him. He sat in the middle of the cushions, leaving you no choice but to sit beside him, perhaps a bit too close for your own wellbeing.

He took hold of the remote, going through the channels before settling for a random game show. You wouldn’t take him for the kind of guy who liked watching such things, but then again, the things you didn’t know about him outnumbered the ones you did.

The two of you waited a good five minutes for the ice cream to melt down a bit, watching the program in utter silence. His eyes were set on the TV, while yours kept darting between his face and the spoon in your hands. This was as awkward as you’d imagine it to be. Still, you were thankful to be sitting so close to him, to be taking in his beautiful image. It had somehow made all of your previous failed interactions with each other worthwhile.

"You can have some now." Takasugi said, extending the pint to your side.

You took it in your hands, digging your spoon right in. Mhm chocolate, can never go wrong with that. Closing your eyes, you sighed in delight. You really were in need of something sweet, after all.

"You like it that much?" He asked, gesturing for you to hand it back.

"Ice cream is the perfect way to solve your issues."

"Hmm? I disagree. " He responded, shoving a spoonful of it inside his mouth. "The perfect way to solve your issues is by dealing with them."

He wasn’t wrong, but then again, you had reached such a point because you were unable to deal with him in the first place.

"You can’t always deal with things, you know."

"Wrong, once again."

"Then, how should you deal with something that is hard to handle?"

"Something or... someone?" He asked, handing you back the ice cream. There was a hint of suggestion in his voice, one that made you consider whether he knew more about your 'issue’ than he’d been letting on.

Swirling your tongue around the spoon, you contemplated your choices for a moment. He wasn’t looking at you, but that didn’t make things any easier for you. Lying wasn’t your best suit. Even if you said 'something’, he’d see past that. However, if you said 'someone’, who knew where that’d lead?

"Perhaps it's someone," you paused to look at him, only to find him staring back. "Who knows." That’s right. Boldness was always the way to go.

Takasugi smirked yet again, accepting the ice cream back in his hands with his attention fixed on you. "Does that someone know you are pining over them?"

"Hmm... that could be the case. But then again, they’ve been nothing but indifferent towards me. Perhaps I’ve lost my charms. " You joked with a shrug.

"I find that hard to believe. Have you tried telling them? "

Telling... them? As in, telling him that you’d like him to fuck your brains out? Now that was something you hadn’t considered doing. Surely you could be as promiscuous as you wanted in front of him, but stating what you wanted him to do to you was another story. It was shameful, especially when considering you weren’t that close at all.

"N-no... I haven't. "

"Then," He placed the pint on top of the coffee table. "How about you try that with me? If you can tell me, you can certainly tell them. "

If you were an anime character, this would be the kind of scene where you’d be getting an intense nosebleed and, as far as you were concerned, this was actually real life.

You gulped hard, trying to suppress your own nerves while momentarily glancing at the TV. It was turned off, a fact that you had only just considered. As his eyes pierced yours, the room fell silent, the atmosphere becoming heavier than before. He was making it so hard for you, that once again, you couldn’t help but wonder whether he was actually using your own plot against you.

"Mind if I speak as if you were that person?" He shook his head, ushering you to keep on going. Here goes nothing.

"You are the hottest person I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. Just looking at you gets my panties all drenched up. Every night, I close my eyes while touching myself, dreaming that you are the one touching me, calling out your name while doing so. You've been driving me insane nearly ever since I met you. One moment I’m happy and then next moment I’m sad, waiting for you to throw me a single bone or... really, just bone me. Fuck, you have no idea how much I long for you to hold me down, using every hole in my body until I can’t do anything other than scream your name at the top of my lungs."

By the time you finished your little speech, you felt surprisingly relieved, though recalling all of those thoughts was enough to get you riled up, even in the slightest.

Takasugi listened to you without interrupting or reacting in any way.He leaned towards the table, digging his spoon inside the pint and then curling his lips around it, seemingly undisturbed by what you had just suggested. Whether he knew or didn’t, you couldn’t tell.

Before you could do as much as question him about it, you felt his breath falling on top of your lips, nullifying the distance between you at once.

You gasped in surprise while he took advantage of it, sliding his tongue right past your lips, a cold yet sweet sensation taking over. Sheepishly, you closed your eyes, allowing him to swirl his tongue around yours, realizing that said sweetness had been nothing but chocolate. The cream melted inside your mouth, while you sucked on his tongue as if it were a piece of candy, unable to help your own whimpers. It felt just like a dream.

However, every dream must come to an end. Just as the ice cream had dissolved, he pulled away from you, the thin string of saliva that connected you two following his lips, as he set himself back against the couch. Even when the kiss had lasted no more than a couple of seconds, you were left utterly breathless.

While you were trying to process what had just happened, Takasugi brought the pint onto his lap, casually throwing spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. One would assume that he shared the sentiment, considering how he’d kissed you right after your impromptu confession, yet the way he was acting right now suggested otherwise. His eyes were glued to the TV, ignoring the fact that the screen was devoid of both color and sound.

"Takasugi?"

"Hmm?"

"What was that all about?"

"Problem solving." He sternly replied, placing the now empty box on the table. "You wanted to share some, didn’t you?" So that was what he was referring to. He certainly had a funny idea of sharing his belongings.

"Then... what about the things I shared?"

"I never realized my roommate had been this sexually deviant before." He sneered, attempting to earn a reaction from you, which he did.

"That’s not true, I’m only like that around you!" By the time you realized what you had just blurted out, it was too late. Even if there was a chance he didn’t know, now he definitely knew. "I mean..."

"What will you do for me?"

"Huh?" Your eyes widened involuntarily.

"You said you’d do anything if I gave you some ice cream. That has me wondering, what will you do for me if I kiss you right now? "

There was no telling whether he was joking or not. After all, you didn’t know him that well to be able to understand his cues. Despite his words, he remained perfectly calm as he looked into your eyes. There was no lust, just a set of emeralds that held your reflection within them.

You licked your lips by pressing them together, considering his offer for a minute. It was true that you had promised him a vague ‘anything’ earlier when he’d asked you about the ice cream. Yet, what more was there for you to give him?

"One week of laundry?" You entertained the idea, something he didn’t seem to oppose either.

Smiling at you, Takasugi moved closer, his one hand landing on top of your chin with the other sliding around your waist. Tipping your head to the side, he dragged his thumb across your skin, guiding you to open your mouth for him. He leaned closer, his lips hovering above yours, a bait to test your own impatience. You couldn’t believe this was about to happen.

His eyes darted to yours as he glanced at you from between his eyelashes. He was having too much fun with it, relishing the expression on your face before finally pressing his lips against yours.

It felt different than it did last time, a welcoming warmth cushioning you the second he touched you. Despite the initial lack of emotion, the way he kissed you was full of passion as his tongue claimed yours, slowly exploring the depths of your mouth bit by bit. A lingering sweetness remained etched in his lips, making them all the more addictive. Tilting your head, you attempted to catch as much of his taste as possible when he pulled you onto him, forcing you to full-on straddle his lap. You sighed against his lips as he tightened the hold on your waist, feeling his knee fall right between your thighs.

"What will you do if I kiss you" He breathed, briefly pulling away from you. "there?"

Chills went up your spine the second he came into contact with your skin, his lips settling right below your ear. "O-one week of cleaning your room?"

Takasugi nodded, his tongue lulling out of his mouth while he teased you with his teeth, gently nibbling on you. Closing your eyes, you threw your head to the side, using your hands to support yourself against his shoulders. He kept pulling at you, your forehead bumping onto the couch as he kept on going, leaving a lazy trail of bite marks down to your neck.

Biting down on your lip, you couldn't help but grind your body against him, your wetness spreading onto the fabric of his pants, as you desperately sought some sort of friction. Although you had supposedly resigned from your pursuit, only minutes before you had left your room, you had been touching yourself to the thought of him, a fact that left you rather restless and sensitive when it came down to having the real deal before you. He had yet to touch you where you wanted him to, but even so, his lips felt better than every climax his thought had given you.

"Take off your shirt." Only when you heard his voice, did you realize how rough your breathing had gotten, to the point of you heaving onto his shoulder.

Obeying his order, you sat up against him, tossing the shirt off your body at once. Even if he never did as much as glance your way whenever you wore your skimpy little outfits, he was definitely looking right now, his eyes unable to steer away from your bare chest. Dragging a hand to it, his fingers wrapped around your hardened nipple, gently squeezing at it. An involuntary moan escaped your lips, realizing how all your messing around with each other had caused a tent to rise in his pants, his hard on poking directly at you.

Takasugi smirked, his palm kneading your tit while his fingers remained around your nipple. He squeezed harder, watching your every reaction carefully before lowering his head closer to your other breast. "What will you do if I kiss you there?" He asked, his tongue ghosting your nipple.

"Uh... I... One week of cooking your meals?" Truth was, you were a lousy cook, but when it came to him? You had no issue becoming his little obedient housewife as long as he gave you what you wanted.

Accepting your offer once again, you felt his lips curling around your nipple, sucking onto it without even interrupting the pace of his hand. His eyes were locked with yours, the occasional smile resurfacing on his lips whenever you did so much as to make a sound. It felt so good that all you wanted to do was stuff your hand right past your underwear, touching yourself to the sight of him. You were so needy that everything he did felt like the sweetest form of torture, constantly feeding into your desire. 

No matter how indifferent he had once been, there was no denying it. He wanted this as much as you did. You could tell as much by the way he kept clinging onto your waist, catching him roll his hips into yours from time to time.

Suddenly, he pulled his hand away from you along with his mouth, a disheveled look on his hair while he smiled at you, the kind of smile that made you swoon. He looked more attractive than he'd ever looked before.

"Sit next to me." He instructed and you followed, sitting right beside him.

Takasugi got up as well, briefly standing in front of you before getting to his knees. Pulling at your legs, he spread them apart, gaining access to your throbbing cunt. He tilted his head in amusement, his fingers tugging at the elastic band of your underwear and then letting go. "Cute." His observation reminded you of your embarrassing choice of undergarment, though it was too late to be acting shy.

Moving his head right between your thighs, you felt his hot breath falling onto your dampened panties, your anticipation forcing you to hold your own breath. It took every bit of self restrain not to close your legs around him and let your hips take control.

"You weren't lying about being soaked." He noted. "What will you do if I kiss you there?" This time he didn't do as much as wait for an answer, diving right in.

You flinched away, gasping the second you felt his tongue rolling over your clothed clit. "F-fuck I'll..." Takasugi paused, glancing up at you with his parted lips, a rather innocent look on his face while he awaited for your proposal. "One week worth of rent?"

As expected, he was content with your suggestion. Relaxing a bit, you let him take hold of your body, his fingers keeping your thighs spread for him with his tongue circling your clit. His saliva along with your own fluids had seeped through the fabric of your underwear, allowing you to feel everything he was doing. From the way he flicked his tongue, to the way he probed your entrance ever so slightly with it. Everything he did felt so good, too good, that before you knew it, you were calling out to him, deliriously begging him to fuck you.

"You taste sweet. No need to change our living arrangement over this. Get up." Takasugi commanded you as he took hold of your hand.

You let him lead you to the side of the couch, positioning yourself between the furniture's arm and his own body. Letting go of your hand, he brought his hands onto your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he spun you around. Your back fell against his chest while his chin moved on top of your shoulder. Although this wasn't the closest you had been, being unable to face him only added to your excitement.

"Bend over."

You didn't need to hear it twice, immediately lowering yourself over the arm, your cheek melding with the cushions. It felt rather uncomfortable though you couldn't care less, not when you were finally about to get what you craved for.

Takasugi moved his hands away from you, the sound of a zipper echoing from behind. You couldn't see what he was doing, though surely enough, you felt something other than his hands pressing onto your butt. Once again, you found yourself holding your own breath, your heartbeat reverberating from your chest onto the couch.

He leaned closer to you, his cock directly poking at your entrance when his chest hit your back. Placing a singular peck on your nape, you heard his voice ringing into your ears. "What will you do if I fuck you?"

There was no way to possibly answer his question. Laundry, cleaning, cooking, even rent, you had covered every possible thing he could ask of you. There was nothing more you could give him, a fact that made you feel rather nervous while he awaited your reply. What if he backed away now, what if-

"Forget it, I wanna see for myself."

Before you could even open your mouth, he brought his hands back down to your hips, sliding your underwear out of the way for his cock to enter. A loud moan fell from your lips the second he pushed his way in, ramming himself as deep inside of you as he could. You dug your nails at the couch, unable to do anything other than cry out for him as he begun to fuck into you.

He was so rough, relentless even, thrusting into you over and over again with such ease. You were so wet for him that each time he went in and out, you could hear the sound of your own cunt, a lewd sound only second to the ones you were inducing with your mouth.

"I don't hear any screaming." He observed, his voice nearly going unregistered, fading behind the screeching of the couch.

"T-ta... Takasugi!" You called out his name, another whimper breaking it in half while he kept on plunging your insides, completely unaffected. The more you cried for him, the harder he went, the knot inside your stomach increasingly tightening.

"Good girl. Now... turn around. " He pulled out of you, taking a step back in order to allow you to move.

Your brain could barely register his order, your body instinctively moving on its own, mindlessly seeking contact. He still had his clothes on, the only exposed part of him being his lower body, with his briefs and pants clinging onto his ankles. It was inevitable that you take a look at him, your eyes sheepishly staring at his cock. The tip looked painfully red, glistening with precum and your own wetness. So yummy, so delicious that all you wanted to do was suck him dry.

"You said you wanted me to use your every hole, right?" He cooed, sliding his finger between your folds in an attempt to get it all nice and wet. "Well... Even when you are flooding, I doubt you could take it. So how about we do this? "

He didn't give you a chance to ask what 'this' was, trailing a path with his slicked index all the way to your ass, shoving it about half way in without a warning. The feeling felt foreign to you, an unknown sensation that you didn't particularly dislike. Anal had always seemed enticing to you whenever you watched porn, even when this wasn't quite like it.

Probing your hole, he slowly pushed it further inside while keeping an eye out for your reactions. Though this alone didn't do much for you, the second Takasugi went back to filling you with his cock, you were unable to hold back a shriek. Everything was all of a sudden intensified and soon, you found yourself overwhelmed by the stimulation, making it feel as if you were about to lose your mind. There was nowhere for you to hold onto, your nails digging into the pillows while your lower body uncontrollably squirmed and clenched around him. Whatever he was doing, was enough to break you.

For the first time, you heard a strangled sound coming from him, one that resembled more of a grunt than a moan. His thrusts fell slightly out of tempo while your walls kept sucking him in, closing down around his twitching cock that begged to stay buried deep within you. The harder he slammed his hips into yours, the harder it was for him to pull out, slowly losing himself in the moment. 

Even so, he was better than you were at keeping his composure, his finger moving in sync with his hips without any interruptions.

The feeling was out of this world, unlike anything you had experienced. It didn't take long for you to writhe in pleasure. The way his cock repeatedly hit your sweet spot, along with the way his finger kept fucking you, left you with no other choice but to come for him, tremors of ecstasy washing you ashore.

Even after he pulled out of you, you were unable to control your own body, your legs trembling as they dangled over the couch's arm. You looked like a lifeless doll, your limbs feeling like lead that only weighed you down. It had been so long since you'd gotten fucked like this, so long that you couldn't even remember what the last time had been like. You were drunk on his cock, so intoxicated that when he sat down on the couch, asking you to kneel before him, all you could do was oblige.

Sinking to your knees, you came face to face with his swollen tip. You had only just realized that, after all this, he had kept himself from spilling his seed inside of you, most likely holding on just so that he could have you gobble his cum up. After all, you were the one who had asked him to make use of all your holes. It was only right for him to properly grant your request.

While you kept looking at him, you came to understand that focusing on the task at hand might turn out to be harder than you'd originally thought, especially in your state. Your mind was hazy, your vision blurry, your body preoccupied with riding down your high. Takasugi hadn't even given you a chance to recover, when he brought his hand down, catching a fistful of your hair between his knuckles. Even if this was once about you, that wasn't the case anymore and he made sure you knew that. Guiding your lips to his cock, you had no choice but to open your mouth, allowing him to shove himself right in.

You could taste the sour taste of his precum along with your tangy essence, a delightful taste that had you running your tongue over his length again and again in an attempt to savor it. Takasugi sighed, letting you move at your own rhythm, though he was unable to refrain from bucking his hips into your mouth from time to time. He kept his grip on you, watching intently as you swallowed his cock, his length disappearing between your pretty lips, a sight to behold.

The more he kept on watching you, the more you felt like putting on a show, drooling and moaning all over him. His attention was all you wanted and now that you had it, you made sure to keep him entertained. With one hand, you held onto the base of his shaft, bobbing your head up and down as seductively as you could, though unavoidably, at a languid pace. 

It felt almost intimate like that, staring into each other's eyes while you pleasured him. Perhaps it wasn't all pure lust or perhaps sex was clouding your thoughts yet again. Either way, looking at him, you couldn't help but think that you wanted more. Not right now, no, you were too exhausted for that. But maybe one day, you could do more things together, like watching movies together, dining together, or even properly going on a date with one another. That'd be quite nice.

Despite your thoughts, you jumped back into reality when his cock began to twitch between your hollowed cheeks. That's right, having such thoughts when he was balls deep in your mouth was probably not the greatest idea.

Tightening the grip on his base, you moved faster, forcing yourself to forsake your tiredness. You could feel his fingers tense around your hair, urging you to keep on going. He was close, his accelerated breathing revealing as much. Hooking your tongue right below his tip, you kept flicking it upwards, your hand continuously working around his length until, at last, he shot his load inside your mouth, warm ropes of cum hitting the back of your throat. It was so much that while you tried to swallow all of it, you still found yourself chocking, a stream of saliva and cum dripping down your chin onto your chest.

Takasugi kept you in place, relishing the spectacle before him. You inhaled sharply, tears poking the corners of your eyes with his cock still throbbing in you. There was no telling who had the better view: he, who seemed to be thriving in your fucked up expressions, knowing he'd fucked you silly, or you, who seemed enchanted by the tranquility in his expression. Either way, it didn't really matter.

You were the first to let go, finally catching your breath, unable to keep your lips shut while you gasped for air. Takasugi, whose fingers were still tangled up in your hair, patted your head softly, a reward for your good job. A gentle smile had softened his features while he peered at you, his indifference and cold exterior having melted at once. This was an image of him you'd never seen before, one that you definitely wished to see again. His smiles, his rewards, his compliments... you selfishly wanted to keep all of them to yourself.

Once your breathing grew stable, he scooted over, letting you sit beside him.

"Laundry, cleaning, and cooking... seems like a fair deal, but we have yet to establish what I get for tending to your sweet tooth." His voice came out raspy after being quiet for so long. Tilting your head, you caught a glimpse of him as he eyed your lips. "What will you do for me?"

"Wh-what do you want?"

Takasugi leaned closer, resting his palm on top of your thigh, repeatedly rubbing at your soft skin without diverting his focus from your eyes.

"Share your body with me. As long as you can be of free use, I'm willing to tend to more of your... needs. "

And so, operation seducing your hot roommate proved to be a success.

[lilac-5ky]

No one, absolutely no one asked for this but, let’s go. Basically how I would imagine Takasugi entering a relationship would be like.

WARNINGS: Major sexual content below, you have been warned!

Dating Takasugi

Takasugi Shinsuke in a relationship. A romantic relationship at that. It all sounds so surreal yet this was the only way the relationship between the two of you could be described as.

It’s no secret that Takasugi is a busy and calculating man; his dedication to his cause is basically the only thing that pushes him to keep walking forward. That is, until he met you.

Even when he planned his every move, Takasugi never planned meeting you and for certain, he never planned to fall in love with you either.

It is likely that the two of you met due to his ever growing army of followers. Perhaps you were a skilled warrior, maybe someone who couldn’t bear to see what Edo had become, or you could be someone who had lost someone important in the war. Whatever the case was, you had decided to follow Takasugi as his goals aligned with yours.

At first the relationship with you was merely business related. You had barely interacted with the man outside of the occasional meetings he’d have with his subordinates. Although he spent most of his time on board he was never really there. His physical presence was indeed there, right in front of you, but his mind was always someplace else. His stare was distant, always chasing after something that eluded him, a state or rather an era of long ago.

One night you found yourself walking around across the dock. Considering this was the first time the ship was sailing by Edo, a nostalgic feeling caught you by surprise, wishing to see what the place you called home had become in the past few months of your absence. Walking under the moonlight, you followed the moon until you reached the edge of the ship and that’s when you saw a familiar figure. Takasugi Shinsuke.

The leader of the Kiheitai was standing right there on the edge, his dark purple hair flying against the wind while he puffed smoke through his beloved kiseru. His hands were buried under his haori while he observed the spectacle in front of him.

You wouldn’t admit it out loud but the way his features were engulfed by the moonlight made him look beautiful, as if he was a character from a fairytale. All the stories about him told a tale far from that of a fairytale, always describing him as a terrifying man, a dangerous man, a ruthless man, someone to be feared and revered. Would they change their mind if they saw him like that, you wondered. Would they change their mind if they could see the loneliness that was hidden behind his stare? Would they see him for the man he truly was, the inspirational leader he was, and not for the beast everyone made him out to be?

“ The moon is beautiful when you are home, isn’t it?” His words caught you off guard, interrupting your thoughts. “We’ve traveled far and wide yet the moon is never as beautiful as it is back home.” He spoke again, bitterness evident in his voice as he uttered the word home. Unsure of whether you should answer to him, you walked closer until you found yourself standing right there beside him. Although your attention was entirely on him, he didn’t even do as much as to glance over at you.

“ I guess I must be really homesick then, considering how the moon looks the same to me no matter where I go.” Truth is, all of these nights you had spent away from home, your sole companion had been the soft moon glow you’d find in your window. No matter how far you were, the moon always looked the same to you as it did back home and that was a reminder of your goal; to be able to see the moon in an Edo free of Amanto, free of the Bakufu.

The rage inside you blinded you, distant memories overcoming you, filling you with hatred as you shaped your hands into fists. The likes of the now Bakufu officials had taken far too much from you in the past years, even the mere thought of such people living freely in your country, your home, made you sick to the core.

“In that case, no need for homesickness anymore. We are home.” Takasugi said as he gestured towards the open horizon ahead of you with his arm, the same bitterness staining his words as he spoke. Part of you wondered about what he’d himself lost in that war, about what had led him to become the man he now was. You were desperate to find out but asking him wasn’t appropriate, there was too much distance between the two of you.

“ Home? This-” You paused before mimicking his previous gesture. “ This isn’t home. No Edo governed by the Bakufu is home. No Edo that is unwelcoming to you is home. Because…”

“Because?” He asked you while turning himself to face you. His eye was locked into yours as he listened to your outburst intently.

“Because you are my home.” You said unable to hide your admiration for him. Takasugi looked intrigued by your comment, raising his eyebrow momentarily as he awaited your explanation. “Because you are our home. Because looking at you, supporting you, fighting for you, is the closest thing we have to our home. Until Edo is rid of the puppets, you are our home, Takasugi. Sir.” You added as it temporarily slipped your mind that the man in front of you was no other but your leader.

Not sure what to expect, you stood still while he kept watching you. His expression betrayed no emotion and you were unsure as to what he has in mind. This man was more like the moon than anything else, you thought. He shined so beautifully yet there were so many sides that were darkened and hidden, sides to him that no one knew.

Grabbing once again hold of his kiseru, he puffed some smoke into the distance before taking his leave. As he turned around to go past you, you could have sworn there was an ever so slight shadow of a smile upon his lips.

“ The moon really is beautiful tonight, Y/N”, and with that he was gone.

(author's note: the moon is beautiful (isn't it) can be roughly translated into I like you/I love you in the japanese language. Since I'm writing about a japanese character, and more specifically about Takasugi, I thought that him indicating his interest towards the FL in a less direct way would be more fitting for him as a character)

After that night, every single time you found yourself unable to sleep, you’d make your way onto the deck, searching for the familiar figure of no one else other than Takasugi. The image of his graceful silhouette standing amidst the moonlight was engraved in your brain and although you knew it made zero sense, you caught yourself repeating his final words to you from that night. He was talking about the moon, right? He had to, right?

Days went by and at best, you’d catch a glimpse of him walking side by side with Bansai, discussing the details of the upcoming missions. He was always busy and he didn’t even do as much as to look over at you. Once you tried waving at him from afar but immediately stopped your gesture mid air. What were you even trying to do?

At first you tried to reject the thought. The recent overload of thoughts regarding him were merely a byproduct of the respect and admiration you had for the leader of Kiheitai. Takasugi was charismatic, intelligent, proactive. He was a great and skilled warrior, someone who always listened to what others had to say before making up his mind. If anything, he was considering and attractive and actually beautiful and-

That simply wouldn’t do. You could try to fool the others but there was no way fooling yourself. You liked Takasugi, not as a leader but as a man. The way his lips curled into a sinister smile as he grabbed his sword, the way his purple strands stuck to his forehead after a fight, the way he spoke full of confidence, the way he moved, the way he was, everything about him begun to stand out to you way more than before. Your mind was clouded with thoughts of him, your heart would pound and your palms would sweat the second you'd spot him. There was no doubt anymore, you had actually fallen for the one and only Takasugi Shinsuke.

Not too long after you’d realized your growing feelings for him, you once again found yourself on the same spot you’d seen him standing on that moonlit evening. As expected, this time you were on your own, similar to every other night before that. Hope lingered in your heart and so you hadn’t stopped expecting him, yet you knew that what you were doing was foolish and wrong. You hadn’t joined his crew for him, you had joined it for his ideals. Everything else was a mere diversion, setting you further from your cause. Besides, what good would it be, crushing on a man whose heart was bound by bloodthirst and revenge?

“Homesick again?” As you were about to leave, you heard his familiar voice echo through the wind. He had finally come, although this time you were standing in the place he was that day, while he was the one approaching you from behind. His steps stopped next to you, a smirk evident on his lips.

“Not anymore.” You argued, trying hard to fight off a smile. Pressing your lips together you turned to face him, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to tell the flush that was staining your cheeks, that he wouldn’t be able to hear how hard your heart was beating in his presence. Although it wasn’t a full moon, the dim light softly enveloped his face, making him look as majestic, if not more, as he did the first time you spotted him here. His lips were still curled into a smirk while he smoked, making you wonder what kissing him would be like. Were they hardened from his years of fighting or were they as soft as they appeared to be? Would he taste of tobacco or was there more to it than it seemed?

Before you knew it, you were staring persistently at his lips, just standing still, not even uttering a single word. You were so caught up in the moment, so caught up in him, that you couldn’t even think of anything to say. Everything felt so wrong yet so right at the same time. You should say something, you reminded yourself. Say something, say something, say something!

“You… you never showed up” This had to be about the lamest thing you could tell him. If he didn’t mistake you for a sociopath, now he surely would. Yet once again he took a drawn out puff of his kiseru, leaving you to await his answer.

“Didn’t think there was someone waiting for me.”

“I wasn’t- I mean, there wasn’t-” You tried to explain yourself yet your words were cut short by a strange sound. But could it be…? To your surprise, the sound hailed from no one other than him. Takasugi Shinsuke, the man next to you was actually laughing, a hearty laughter at that. Now you had really done it, you thought, you had really make a laughingstock of yourself.

The two of you stood there in silence for a while, him smoking through his kiseru while you desperately tried to look for a place to run away to. The warrior within you was long gone, giving his place to a scared little lovestruck girl who wanted nothing more than to disappear. Awaiting for a miracle, you decided to stay put until he’d finish, until he’d be far away from you so that you could go back to dying internally in peace. However the more you waited, the more it seemed as if that scenario was far from the truth, that was until he took a step closer, closing the gap between the both of you until you could feel his breath upon your lips. He was really close, dangerously close, you thought while trying to suppress a gulp.

“ I think I know of a way to make your homesickness go away.” Takasugi spoke in a quiet voice, one that only you could hear. The unpolished scent of tobacco tingled your nose with each of his words, making you essentially numb once you realized that his lips were so close to yours. As if you were chanting a prayer, you kept repeating his name inside your mind, begging him to close the distance, begging him to kiss you, begging him to make you his.

“Wh-What is that?” Your voice trembled as you opened your mouth. Smirking once again, you briefly spotted his hand hiding his kiseru in his clothes while his other hand reached for your arm, trailing a path from your shoulder to your fingers with his index. The sensation of his cold finger made you jolt at first, however soon after it felt as if he had ignited your skin with his mere touch. There was tension between the two of you, whether you admitted it or not.

Taking a step back, he retracted his hand back to the inside of his yukata as he smirked yet again. Not answering your question, he turned around and begun walking away before uttering a single Come towards your way.

Hesitantly you followed the man back inside the ship, as the two of you walked through the quiet corridors of the vessel. You weren’t sure where you were headed as this wasn’t a section you had frequented in the past. Only high ranking warriors and advisors had access to this part of the ship and you sure as hell weren’t either. Not that you weren’t skilled or anything, it was more of a matter of not having proven your worth yet. Besides, comparing yourself to people like Bansai who had been with Takasugi for years didn’t make much sense either.

Passing by countless of doors in silence, Takasugi finally came to an halt in front of a steel enforced door. Turning the handle, he walked in, leaving the door behind him open for you to enter the room. It was dark but the dim light of a lamp stand made it so that you could at least find your way in. After you had taken at least a couple of steps in, Takasugi closed the door behind the two of you, turning the actual lights on as he did.

The room you were in was a very neat room without much personality. There were clean towels piled upon a desk while the futon was carefully stretched on the floor. Everything look so untouched and unused, as if no one ever interacted with this room, you thought to yourself as you glanced around you. The only thing that gave away that this was someone’s room was a katana, which was decorating one of the walls, but also a shamisen that rested on the corner in front of you.

Moving past you, Takasugi actually took the shamisen in his hands before settling on the floor by the futon. Looking up at you momentarily, he patted the area next to him softly, motioning you to sit down next to him. Obediently, you rushed next to him, wondering what the man had in mind. Moments ago you thought you had him figured out, you thought that he somehow peaked inside your brain and had decided to grant your wish, no matter how wrong and selfish that was. However now, you were once again finding yourself to be ignorant, unsure of what he planned to do, unsure why the two of you were in his room.

Cutting through your thoughts, the intricate sound of the shamisen filled the room as Takasugi begun picking on the strings of the instrument. Turning around to face him, you took in the image of him; a man who was gently holding the instrument, a man who furrowed his brows as he focused intently on his own fingers. Not the warrior, not the strategist everyone knew, just a man who was creating a sound as beautiful as he, himself, was. Amazed at his display of skill, your lips parted slightly in awe. The notes… this melody… before you knew it, your eyes welled up with tears. What was this, why did this feel so sad yet so familiar?

The images of a meadow filled with flowers, of children -childhood friends of a bygone era- laughing while chasing one another, of a house up on a hill, of the kind smile of a mother as she cooked dinner, of a father coming home late after working the fields all day long. All of these images flooded your brain as you vividly remembered your childhood. This is Edo, this is home, you thought, brushing the tears off your face. For a moment it felt as if you could leave everything behind you, the war, the calamity, the hardships, as if the past was nothing but a bad dream, one that you’d laugh about upon waking up. For a moment, the man next to you wasn’t Takasugi Shinsuke, the most wanted man in entire Edo, the leader of the Kiheitai. For a moment you could see yourself having that very smile your mother once had while cooking, for a moment the man entering the door wasn’t Father, it was Takasugi coming back home, back fo you. For a moment you could see a warm smile, a genuine smile carved in his face. For a moment you-

Letting go of all these moments, all the what if’s and what could have been’s, you returned to the present as Takasugi finished his song. Carefully, he pushed the shamisen back into the corner, before turning his attention to you. “Was my music bad enough to make you cry, Y/N? Guess Bansai had been too kind to me, after all.” Takasugi said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. His tone was dry but his expression gave off a slight amusement with his usual smirk carved upon his lips.

Sniffling even as you heard his words, you let out a soft chuckle. “It’s not that, it’s just that…” trying to find the right words you shifted on the floor, unintentionally leaning closer to him. Unsure of your actions, your eyes spotted his hand on the floor between you, his palm flat against the hard surface, when you hesitantly reached for the top of it with yours. Fingers grazed his warm skin, barely cusping it, as you expected him to pull back away, something which he didn’t. “I saw home. It was actually home, not this fake and rotten place we see from the deck, it was actually Edo. Our Edo. I… I even saw them. They were alive and happy and…” Trying hard to suppress a moan, you gulped. Unconsciously, you strengthened the grip on his hand before giving him a faint smile. “Thank you, Takasugi.”

At this point, the tension between you was palpable as neither of you did as much as to move an inch. Thoughts started flooding your brain once again, considering how it was only now that you begun to realize what you were doing. The way you held onto his hands made it feel as if the butterflies from his yukata had flown inside your stomach, making your heart beat faster with each movement. You felt your face getting warm and you could tell that hiding your blush when you stood that close to him would be an impossible task. The man was excellent at reading even the toughest opponent, he could surely see behind the facade of a lovesick girl.

Considering how neither of you moved, you decided to remove your hand from his. Perhaps that way you could pretend that you had never acted this foolishly. Sighing in disappointment you were about to lift your fingers when all of a sudden, Takasugi took hold of your hand, pushing you down with sheer force until your head hit the softness of the futon laying below you. Taken by surprise at the suden movement, your lips shaped an ouch that didn’t manage to get out as his lips crashed into yours. The way he kissed you was forceful and firm, as if he was commanding you to stay put with it. His lips were soft, way softer than you had imagined them to be, and although there was a faint scent of tobacco, it didn’t overpower the taste of him. Takasugi's taste.

Kissing him back, you closed your eyes while moving your fingers around his in an attempt to intertwine them. His other hand fell on the side of your head in order to balance himself above you, just enough so that he wouldn’t crash you with his weight. His warmth enveloped you as you instinctively pushed your body into him, wanting to feel more of him, wanting to feel all of him. Part of you momentarily wondered whether you had been this enchanted by his music that you were now seeing stuff but there was no way that this was a dream, not when it felt this real.

Breaking off the kiss, he looked into your eyes, a faint shade of red clashing with his otherwise pale face. If he looked this flustered then you could barely imagine what you looked like. The way he looked at you seemed as if he was expecting an answer to an unheard question. Nodding reassuringly, you let your hand wander towards his face, as your fingers tugged on the bandages that went around his left eye. He looked surprised in the slightest but he didn’t budge, letting you carefully unwrap them until you revealed a closed eye. There was a barely visible scar above it but otherwise it looked just like a normal eye, just shut. Your hand cusped his left cheek, thumb making circles around it while you once again thought to yourself how lovely he looked.

Taking initiative once again, Takasugi removed his hand from yours, quickly making his way towards the obi of your kimono, undoing it swiftly until the fabric was loosely wrapped around your hips. His fingers trailed the line between your breasts carefully, before finally pushing the fabric to the side to reveal your naked body. No one had seen you like that in quite some time, and even if they did, this was the first time you felt so exposed in front of someone else. It wasn’t just the fact that you were naked in front of him that made you feel that way, no, it was rather the way he looked at you, as if he was undressing your soul. His gaze was hungry and persistent, as if he could feast on you and your body, and although he made your heart beat faster, it also made the wetness in your sex increase. Your body needed him, you needed him.

Leaning forward, you took his lower lip between yours, while his hands engulfed your breasts. Squeezing them firmly, his fingers made their way towards your nipples, earning a couple of moans from you as he toyed with them. Lowering his head on your body, you felt strands of his hair tingle your chest before his lips curled around one of your nipples, probing it with his tongue and then with his own teeth. Unable to hold back, you moaned his name out loud while your hands grabbed onto the futon. He wasn't particularly gentle with his biting, however the pleasure erased all of the pain inside your brain, turning all thoughts into a mush. The only thing that remained was him and the sensation of his body working to pleasure you.

Looking down at him, you saw him smirk as his mouth hovered above your breasts, leaving a trail of small kisses before gazing up at you. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to make you lose control, how to make you utterly surrender to him.

Takasugi kept going, running both his hands and lips down your body until he stopped at your entrance. Pushing your knees apart, he squeezed your thighs open until his fingers made their way towards your already wet cunt. First, he pushed his index in, curling it inside your walls before pulling it outside of you. Observing his every move, you saw him eyeing the slickness that was dripping from his own finger, a hint of pride in his gaze. He knew he was the reason why you were such a mess in the first place, even when he had barely touched you. Feeling embarassed, you could tell you were getting redder and redder with each touch but there was no stopping now, not when you were this close to getting what you wanted.

Getting back into business, Takasugi decided to quit playing around as he forced three of his fingers in at once without any warnings. Making your body jolt, your hips buckled around his fingers as he kept going, pushing in and out of you rapidly while ocassionally tugging on the inside of your folds. You could feel yourself getting closer to your release with each of his movement as you threw your head back. Closing your eyes, the only thing you could do was call out his name again and again, begging him to keep going. His name rolling off your tongue felt foreign as you weren't used to addressing him so directly. Even the mere idea that you would be associating with Takasugi, let alone in this manner...

His fingers kept going at a relentless pace, driving you to the edge as he hit your spot with them repeatedly. "Sh...Shinsuke" you whispered his first name as you climaxed around his digits. With his fingers still in you, Takasugi's attention was now directed to your face. Opening your eyes, you found him looking at you with an expression you'd never spotted on his face before. His lips were shaped into a soft yet sorrowful smile, as if you had reminded him of something very dear yet forgotten to him, something welcoming yet hurtful. Even the way he looked at you wasn't as distant anymore; although it was hard to distinguish it there was an unfamiliar feeling that glinted in his dark green hue. For a second, the unwavering Takasugi Shinsuke looked hesitant, unsure even, making you wonder whether calling him by his first name was the right call.

"You..." he begun, as you felt his piercing gaze. Shuttering the utter feeling of pleasure and enjoyment, you felt a chilling wave of fear rising up your spine. Had you really ruined it?

Sighing, Takasugi pulled his fingers back, wiping his fingers on the fabric of his yukata, while his eye stayed focus on his own movement, avoiding your stare. Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, attempting your best to find the right words to apologize. You didn't wanna mess things up, didn't want to make him mad, didn't want to make him sad... You didn't mean to do that, at least.

Lifting your body from the futon, you sat up to face him, covering yourself with your own hands. At the end you couldn't say a word to him, the only thing you could do was look at him as he rubbed his hand repeatedly in a slow motion.

A few moments passed until he finally looked at you, his eye going back to that same apathetic yet melancholic way he always looked at others with. For a bit you thought that you could finally crack his shell, that you could finally glance deeper into who Takasugi Shinsuke was, yet that moment felt now long gone. Even if he was interested in you in the slightest before that, now his cold exterior stood once again in the way.

As you were about to get up, his hands crawled up to the belt of his yukata undoing it with a single move. Exposing his naked body, he tossed the fabric to the side, while your eyes instinctively moved to look at his erection. Before your brain could process what was going on, Takasugi threw you back onto the futon below you. Grabbing your legs by your knees, he held onto them until he positioned himself in front of your entrance. Without wasting time, he pushed his way into you, hitting you with such force that a whine escaped your lips. Although the previous emotional tension you felt was enough to make you waver, you were still sensitive from the previous orgasm he gave you.

At the sound of your wimpers, Takasugi used his hand to shut you up, covering your mouth as if he couldn't even stand to hear your voice anymore. The way his hips slammed into yours, the feeling of his cock reaching all the right places within you, the way the sweat on his skin made him glimmer, you had all these reasons to let this moment consume you, to lose yourself into it, yet the pleasure he offered to you was somehow not enough. There was this unsettling feeling deep within you when you looked into his eye only to see him turning the other way. He refused to look at you, refused to kiss you, refused to let you talk to him. He was shutting you out which was quite the irony considering he was fucking you so good.

His pace was quick and relentless, seeming as if he didn't care to satisfy neither of you, as if he was doing it out of malice even. Your body was reacting to his obediently by wrapping your legs around his waist, letting him go as deep as he wanted to go. The feeling of a second orgasm was building within you but your mind was elsewhere. Was it that bad to call him like that? Was that why he was so mad right now? And what did he even smile for if he was going to turn into this...

Questions were flooding your mind yet you knew there was no way to answer them on your own. It's because you assumed he liked you in the first place, a voice spoke in your brain. Takasugi liking someone as plain as you, is this a joke? To think you actually thought you had the permission to call him by his first name.

Tears started falling from your eyes onto the back of his palm, as he kept going until finally, with a final push, he spilled his load inside of you. He never said a word to you and his expression stayed the same cold way, not even changing in the slightest, not even after he finished. Pulling out of you, you could feel his cum dripping onto your thighs and the covers underneath. You had always pictured what this would be like and while Takasugi did more than exceed your fantasies of him, it all just felt so empty and devoid of feeling, a fact that you couldn't overlook.

Gulping, you pushed these thoughts away as the tears on your cheeks begun to dry. Keeping his distance from you, Takasugi wrapped himself with his yukata and moved towards the desk. He grabbed a towel from the pile, extending his hand towards you for you to take it. Accepting it, you brought it to your thighs, cleaning the remains of the cum that leaked out of you with it. Even then, he still didn't bother with you. He searched for his kiseru inside his clothing before walking towards the window. Lighting it up, he let some of the smoke fly out of the window and into the midnight sky, as he kept gazing towards the distance. After what seemed like an eternity, the sound of his voice filled the room once again as he suggested that you could stay the night.

The next morning, you woke up to find yourself alone in the empty room. Everything was hazy and you barely remembered the events that followed after the two of you had... So this wasn't a dream, you thought to yourself as you looked on your naked form. Part of you was overjoyed to be waking up in Takasugi's private room yet another part of you felt sad upon noticing his absence. It was enough to remind you of what had occurred the previous night.

Groaning, you found your tossed clothes and put them on, wrapping yourself with your now creased kimono. Getting up, you tried your best to straighten the covers in an attempt to make them look more orderly. After you were satisfied with the result, you took one last look at the room before opening the door. To your surprise, in front of the door stood a small bottle of yakult. Kneeling to pick it up, you looked at it puzzled. Was that supposed to be for you? Could he maybe...? Unable to contain your joy, you clenched your fist around it before making your way down the corridor with a smile on your face.

The following days went by excruciatingly slow. Takasugi was nowhere to be found and no matter how many times you looked around for him you just couldn't see him. The thought of asking Bansai or someone closer to him had occurred to you but you didn't wanna embarrass yourself like that in front of others again. Everything had seemingly gone back to the way it was before the two of you had slept together, except of one thing; Every single morning you'd wake up to find a single yakult bottle waiting for you at the door.

And so a week went by. The ship remained in Edo, the reason being that there were some unfinished business awaiting the Kiheitai's leader there and while most people on board awaited the end of the trip, you awaited your chance to see Takasugi again. Day after day, you spend the majority of your time wandering the deck when you didn't have any task assigned to you. Until one day, you opened the door to your room only to be greeted by nothingness. No yakult bottle, no Takasugi. Disappointment took over you as you headed out of the ship, when a familiar shillouette of purple showed up in the distance. Takasugi.

Although it was hard to tell from the distance, you could tell there was something wrong with him. His hair was a mess, his clothes were slightly ripped and blood was drenching his body from head to toe. As he got in the ship, you could tell that the man was limping quite a bit too. At once, you felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from under your feet. All this time you had waited for him, thinking that he resented you, blaming yourself, thinking only about yourself and your stupid crush on him while he was out there doing God knows what, only to come back looking like this. You were so stupid.

Unable to move, you stood there hopelessly as Takasugi slowly made his way towards you. Eventually he stoppped in front of you and you could see that the blood you had previously spotted wasn't his. At least for the most part. Looking at you, he gave you a half smile before reaching inside his ripped yukata. When his hand came out, you could spot the familiar shape of a yakult bottle popping out of his hand. "Here." he said in a quiet voice before handing it to you.

Your eyes were going back and forth between his hand and the bottle in disbelief. What kind of joke was this, you wondered as your hand reached his, taking the bottle he offered you. You looked at it one last time, clenching it in your fist before moving towards Takasugi. Unable to hold back your own emotions, you wrapped your arms around his waist, placing your head on top of his shoulder while making sure you didn't squeeze him too hard. Takasugi stood still, neither accepting nor rejecting your advances but that was okay. At least he was here, he was safe, he was with you.

After a while, you decided to let go of him, taking a step back before offering him your shoulder. "Can you walk?" You asked him while glancing over at his injured leg. Takasugi nodded as he made a step forward, only to immediately limp. You wanted to help him but at the same time you didn't want to force yourself on him.

Keeping a small distance from him, so that you could aid him if he wished for assistance, you walked ahead of him towards his room. When you reached the door, you held it open for him as he dragged his feet inside the room. Urging him to sit down, you sat down on the floor and patted for him to come. Just because there wasn't a visible wound, doesn't mean he was alright.

" Take off your clothes." You ordered him in a commanding voice the second he sat down. If someone could hear you, they would definitely be getting the wrong idea but you didn't have the time to think things through, not when Takasugi was covered in blood like this. Snickering at your remark, he begun to undress while you brought some clean towels from his office. Once again you sat next to him, while you initiated your inspection. With a towel, you tried your best to clean the blood off his body, first from his arms and then from his chest while looking out for any wounds.

Luckily, there was nothing life threatening as the only marks on him were scratches -most likely from previous battles-that had healed up for the most part. After a while of basically straddling his lap while cleaning off the stains, you became aware of how close the two of you were. His knee was right between your legs while your hands were clinging onto his toned chest. Your heads were mere inches apart and you could tell that he had been observing your every movement thus far. Immediately, a blush begun to build upon your cheeks as you became bashful of your actions.

"I...uhm... I don't see any injuries so maybe I should go..." Your sentence was cut short as you felt a hand pulling you by the waist, making you fall onto Takasugi's chest. Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders in an attempt to balance yourself while he held you close to him. For a minute, it felt as if all your worries and regrets had disappeared. You were safe, you were home. Your heart was pounding loudly yet the familiar scent of him made you feel at ease. Only god knows how much you'd missed him.

"My goal is to end things and you know it. The war we started all this time ago is not yet over and it will never be until I make it stop. The path I'm walking on is that of solitude and destruction yet..." He briefly paused as his other hand reached for your face, the back of his palm caressing it lightly. For a second, you could see the hint of a smile on his face as his expression softened. " Yet maybe there is one thing I can't bring myself to destroy just yet. " He said as he let his hand drop by his side. "As long as you stay on that same path, as long as your blade doesn't cross mine, as long as you oppose the Bakufu with everything you have, then I'll be next to you. I'll even be a... home, to you."

This was the first time you had heard him speak like this, especially to you. His words were sincere, you could tell he meant his every word. Although out of the two of you, you were the more talkative one, this time you found yourself at a loss of words. This was probably the closest thing to a love confession you'd be receiving from him yet it was enough, he was enough.

Trying your best to suppress a smile yet failing ,you wrapped your arms around his neck. Returning the embrace, you felt the grip on your waist getting tighter as he kept you close to him. You hadn't felt this happy in a while, to even think that he harbored feelings for you, that he actually wanted you, it all just felt surreal to you.

"Can I rest now? Bringing you that yakult myself has left me drained. " He mumbled against your chin. Pulling away from him you looked at him in disbelief, your eyes going wide while looking at his serious expression. " You are telling me that this is the result of yakult?"

"Of that and assassins going for my head. And of a failed delegation meeting. Mostly yakult if you ask me, checked three stores until I could get my hands on one." Takasugi exclaimed as he laughed softly. To even think that he would be making jokes at a time like this... yet somehow this was yet another side to him that you were experiencing for the first time. A more childish and more teasing side that you would never guess he had.

Rolling your eyes at his comment you tried to escape his embrace in order to let him rest as he wished. However the second you tried to move, he pulled you back to him, this time capturing your lips with his. Pressing against your lips, Takasugi slipped his tongue inside your mouth; gently, yet demanding, exploring the depths of it as much as he could. Following his lead, you pushed your tongue onto his, attempting to savor every last bit of him as if you were to consume him. You wanted him, all of him, now and for as long as your forever would last.

Breaking of the kiss, you felt himself smirking against your lips before finally letting go of your waist. "Shinsuke is fine, by the way." He said while placing a peck on your lips. "Now go." He commanded you as he let himself fall back onto the futon. Obeying his order, you got up and moved towards the door, placing the dirty towel on the other side of his office. As you were about to exit the room, the sound of his voice made you turn around once again.

"Don't forget to drink the yakult. I paid for it."

[lilac-5ky]

Paint it white (Takasugi x Artist Fem!Reader)

A/N: I actually got this idea while drawing Takasugi. As I state further down, he is pure art and so I thought hey, how would he react if he knew about how I spent my entire day and night drawing him? And so, one thing brought the other and here we go, Takasugi with an artist S/O.

man I wish I could draw him like one of my french girls

Plot: Takasugi's partner asks him to pose for her. Will it be an innocent sketching period or not? Spoiler alert: NOT.

Warning: Smut. Minors go do some other minor things, or not, I'm not your mother.

Ugh, this won't do either" Crumbling yet another page of your sketchbook into a ball, you threw it against the door in frustration. You had been seated in this exact spot for hours, trying to draw a single thing that at the very least would make sense to you, yet all of your efforts were in vein. Either your creations lacked symmetry or the anatomy was off or, even worse, they lacked emotion, dull figures staining your pages. Nothing made sense and keeping on drawing aimlessly seemed rather pointless at the moment.

As you were about to give up, the door went wide open, Takasugi entering the room, his room. Looking up at him, you pushed your drawing materials to the side, trying to let go of your frustration, as you got up to greet him. Once you took a better look at him, you noticed that something about the way he carried himself was different. In fact, on second thought, even his face appeared more radiant than usual, a smile trembling on his lips.

"You seem to be in a good mood."

"Hm? Why wouldn't I be? For once everything went according to plan." Takasugi exclaimed, taking a seat by the window. Balancing his back against the frame, he shut his eye, seemingly enjoying the breeze.

The sight of him being this carefree was enough to make you smile. Considering your turmoil of a lifestyle, always being on the run from something, seeing him in such good spirits was a rarity. Staring at him, you couldn't help but let your eyes wander towards the rest of his body, studying him carefully. Now that you were thinking about it, the way he appeared was rather easy on the eyes. His dark puple hair was pushed back, moving along with the flow of the wind while the soft rays of the afternoon sun were coloring his body just right, illuminating his toned chest. The more you looked at him, the more you realized that perhaps the missing inspiration you so desperately needed was right in front of you.

"Then… how about you strip for me?" In a flash, his eye went wide open. You could tell that your question had caught him off guard as he blinked, his lips slightly parting in disbelief. Once he realized how serious you were, he smirked, hands moving towards the belt of his yukata.

"I never expected you to be this eager to sleep with me."

"That's not it!"

"Oh?" Takasugi stopped, his eye keenly searching for answers in your expression.

"I… I'd like to draw you." You stated, praying that he wouldn't scold you. Even if he was your partner, Takasugi remained someone who wouldn't accept such a thing with ease. Even suggesting it to him would be a no-no on a regular occasion, however this time he seemed rather delighted. If there was a time to convince him, then this would be it.

For a second, he seemed to be actually considering it, something that filled you with hope.

"No." His answer, although expected, felt as if he had stabbed your heart, piercing right through your artistic hopes and dreams, murdering all of your aspirations. Immediately, you fell onto the floor next to him, bringing your hands together in front of your face as if you were about to pray.

"Please? I could really use the inspiration, I've been struggling all morning and-"

"Still no."

"But you are the only one who can inspire me! You-"

"Did I stutter? No."

"But, Shinsuke, you are the very definition of art! Everything about you is so beautifully symmetrical, yet intriguing and complex. Your body looks so great as if it's been sculpted by the gods, your facial features so elegant and so uhmm- amazing that could make angels weep in envy. Please give me the chance to draw you, please let me show you how I see you!" Leaning closer to him, you closed your eyes, bringing your forehead on top of his knees.

A minute had passed by and he hadn't given you an answer, until you felt his finger against your forehead, pushing you back until your eyes met his.

"Flattery will get you everywhere…" Oh? "But here." Oh…

Disappointed, you got up, slowly dragging your feet towards the table, picking up your art supplies one by one. It was your fault, really, you should have seen that coming. After all, we are talking about Takasugi Shinsuke, the one and only leader of the Kiheitai. Of course he didn't have time for such nonsense, and even if he did, he'd rather spend his time in a different manner. Still, right as you were about to give up, a glint of hope appeared in your heart, your mind coming up with a rather mischievous idea. Turning your back on him, you caught a glimpse of him staring outside the window, while you made your way to the door.

"It's fine. Perhaps Bansai will be up for it."

No answer.

"Or… now that I think about it, I could ask Gintoki. His naturally wavy silver hair would look great on paper, I'm sure he-"

"Where should I sit again?"

Victory. Biting your lips in order to suppress your smile, you turned around to face Takasugi. He was already standing up, a grim expression carved into his features while he glared at you. No matter how much he hated such frivolities as he'd call them, you knew he hated Gintoki more and losing to him would end up damaging his pride, whether he cared to admit it or not.

"Hmm… how about there?" You pointed towards his futon. It was a shame he had no couch in his room, but then again he wasn't a big fan of western decorations.

Complying, he walked to his futon, sprawling his body across the covers. Once he was in position, you dragged your chair closer to him, placing your supplies on top of the seat. "That's good but let me-" Moving closer to him, you kneeled by his side, as you studied his body up close. Once you'd made your mind about the pose, you pressed a hand against his chest, pushing him until he was laying flat against the futon. Unsurprisingly, he felt quite tense under your fingertips, you could tell that he was at a great discomfort even after agreeing to it. Somehow every time the name of the silver haired samurai was mentioned, Takasugi always managed to lose his composure, a fact you had come to realize with time. Although you could easily abuse that to your favor, you'd rather not do that, forcing him to do things against his will was rather malicious and so was taking advantage of his weakness.

"Relax, don't be so stiff." You could tell that your instruction made him even more tense, his eye narrowing into a slit as he stared at you. Hesitantly, you cupped your hands around his cheeks, gently pressing his head down against the futon. Even when he was fuming, he still let you handle his body without any protests, at least not any audible ones. Lowering yourself on top of him, you placed your hands onto his legs, bending his knees enough so that they were angled towards the wall. Pushing them apart from one another, you spread them slightly, the fabric of his yukata receeding to his thighs, exposing his bare skin.

Once you were satisfied with the result, you took a step back, admiring his form. Although the pose you had him in wasn't anything particularly special, the way he pulled it off was enough to mesmerize you. Despite the look on his face, he remained ever ethereal, a sight that could bewitch just about anyone, that was Takasugi Shinsuke.

Returning to your seat, you picked up your pencil, settling your sketchbook between your legs while looking at him.

"You don't need to take your clothes off just yet, we can do it like this. Just try to keep a relaxed expression while looking at me and don't stress it. You… you look beautiful either way." Turning your attention to the blank paper in front of you, you tried your best to suppress your blush.

As expected, choosing him as your model was turning out to be a great idea. Observing him, your hand begun acting on its own, stroke after stroke capturing his sillhouette as closely as you could within the limits of your paper. Takasugi stayed still the entire duration, a minor exception being the fact that he would occasionally drag smoke from his kiseru, something that you had allowed. If anything, it only helped paint the perfect picture, his fingers elegantly grasping the pipe, lips curling around the tip softly. With time, you could tell that he was easing into it and with your instructions, the artwork before you was turning out nothing short of amazing.

About an hour later, you were peering at a near finished result except of one part; his lower body. You had no trouble drawing his chest and torso, especially when one considered how the man was quite literally exposing it all for the world to see, however when it came down to the area below the waist, memory alone could not serve you well. You needed to see him, all of him, and as intended, you walked once again to him, ushering him to remove his clothes. Sighing, a thin cloud of smoke escaped his lips while you helped him undress, your fingers tugging at the belt of his yukata as he pushed his sleeves off his shoulders in return.

Once his upper half was exposed, you moved towards his waist, unwrapping the fabric around his thighs, letting it fall onto the floor, the only thing remaining to cover his body being his underwear. Glancing up at him, you could tell that he had no intention of assisting you any further, his entire focus being on his kiseru now that it came down to that part. He wanted you to be the one to do it, even when he acted unaffected, the slight smirk on his lips indicated so. Besides, he'd always been the one to thrive on watching your reactions. Oh well, can't be helped.

Lowering your head until your eyes were on the same level as his crotch, you tried your best to make him shift his weight to his side. Grazing your fingers softly over his clothed cock, you traced the fabric in an attempt to locate the knot which held the underwear together. Once you did, you hooked a finger on the strings, pulling onto them carefully while making sure your other hand remained on top of his crotch the entire time. You could tell that your movements were beginning to affect him as you felt him slightly tense up underneath your finger tips. As expected, you thought to yourself, as you got up, his clothes in your hands. Folding them delicately, you placed them on top of the table before returning to your own chair.

"Can you return to the previous position?" He nodded, laying back down, assuming a position that was very similar to his previous one yet not quite the same. Placing your pencil down on the paper, you tried to draw the outlines of his thighs, however the way he was now posing didn't have the same dynamic to it, creating a rift between the two parts of the drawing. This wouldn't do.

Putting your supplies back down, you approached him once again, kneeling next to his body. Running your hands over his chest slowly, you let them rest on his abdomen, stealing a glance at him. He was looking at you, as expected, the only reason why he had assumed this position was so that you'd come to him again, so that you'd touch him again. Doing your best job to seduce him fix his posture, you dragged your hands over his thighs, pulling his knees apart until you found yourself kneeling between his legs. Although you didn't want to admit it, being so close to him was beginning to take a toll on you, feeling your own wetness concentrating within your folds. You'd like to think that having him pose for you had been for simple artistic purposes, yet now you were considering all the different ways he could take you, rather than focusing on the drawing of him which awaited you.

"Anything wrong?" This was the first time he'd spoken to you in a while, his lips curling into a smirk as he peered down on you. Gulping, you shook your head dismissively, wondering to yourself how much time you'd spent staring at his cock. This was embarrassing even for you, to be having such intrusive and lewd thoughts.

"N-no." You were a blushing mess by now, there was no way he didn't notice. Even you could feel your cheeks getting heated, unable to hide the effect he had on you. Instead of commenting on the way you looked, he brought the kiseru back to his lips, blowing smoke towards your way. Something about the way he remained nonchalant through it all, only managed to arouse you even more, biting your lower lip as the thin grey cloud hit your face. You needed to snap out of it, you needed to get up and continue, but before you could take a step, you felt his legs closing in around you, trapping you right in the middle.

"Y/N. Don't you think you are being quite irresponsible right now?"

"Wh-what do you mean?" You felt yourself going feverish, the sound of his voice along with the closeness of his body being enough to cloud your brain with desire. The whole plan had completely backfired, even when he was the one to play along with your whims, you'd found yourself quite literally on your knees for him.

"What I mean…" He paused briefly, chuckling heartily. "You are the one who caused this." Takasugi said, nodding towards his body, your eyes following his as he motioned towards his now fully errect cock. "Take responsibility." Despite the calmness of his tone, you could definitely hear the sneer in his voice. He was mocking you, ordering you around like this and yet the one thing you could, rather, the one thing you wanted to do, was to comply.

Brushing your hair over your shoulders, you leaned closer to his body, feeling the grip of his legs relax around you as he fell back down. Bringing a hand to the base of his shaft, you clenched your fingers around it, hearing him hum softly in approval. With one hand, you begun pumping his length slowly yet steadily, stopping each time right before you reached the tip. Lowering your head, you parted your lips, allowing yourself to drool all over his cock, your tongue ghosting his tip. Although your intention was to tease him as much as possible, you found yourself eager to taste him, eager to have your mouth full of him.

With your palm all slicked up, you kept feeling him up, rubbing the tip of his cock with your thumb with each stroke. Glancing up at him, you found him looking away from you, his kiseru loosely hanging from his lips. His expression betrayed no emotion, it was as if he was completely unaffected, as if he couldn't care any less. However, once your lips were wrapped around him, even he was unable to keep a straight face. Pulling his kiseru away frm his mouth, he exhaled deeply, his green eye drilling holes into your skull as he watched your every move.

Unable to hide your own excitement, you pushed yourself further down, hollowing your cheeks around his length until he hit the back of your throat. Bobbing your head up and down, you let your tongue roam freely around his cock, tracing each vein of his length repeatedly, while you kept your hand tight around his base. You could feel his hips buckling against your mouth every time you pulled away to catch your breath, as he desperately longed for more contact. Even when he didn't say a word, you could tell how good your touch made him feel, his body reacting on its own.

As you kept on going, his cock begun to twitch inside your mouth, your tongue relishing the salty taste of his precum every time you ran it over his tip. Although you were more than happy to please him, you'd much rather to be the one below him, having him pound you until your body would stop crying out for him. The more time you spent working on him, the wetter you felt yourself becoming, your cunt aching and throbbing between your legs. Pressing your thighs together, the friction was enough to make you moan, your throat vibrating around his cock. It didn't take long for Takasugi to catch up onto what you were doing as he reached down, pulling you by the hair off him, forcing you to stop moving.

"Aren't you greedy. You are here to repent for what you did, if I catch you rubbing your thighs again like that, I won't hesitate to fuck that pretty mouth of yours however I please. Understood?" Unable to do anything other than nod, you couldn't help but wonder how pathetic you were looking for him. Your eyes were glossy, a result of his cock repeatedly hitting your gag reflex while drool was gushing down your jaw. You looked so fucked up because of him and the worst part is that his words only made you wanna touch yourself more, just so that he could have his way with you.

Eventually, he let go of your hair, allowing you to get back to work as he laid back, a smirk engraved on his lips while he kept smoking. His eye was still focused on you as you brought your hands down on his body. Inhaling, you lowered your head on him, taking his cock between your lips once again. As you begun to suck him, Takasugi started to rock his hips against you, pushing himself as far back as he could, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust until you were choking around him. You had no time to adjust to his pace, feeling your eyes getting teary as he kept on going, ignoring the sounds you were making as you gagged on his cock.

"Aw? Don't blame me." He cooed, a chuckle getting stuck in his throat as he grunted. "It's your fault, using your lips to call out that bastard's name when you should be calling mine and only mine. Perhaps after this, you'll learn your place." He was so mean to you, it wasn't as if you even wanted to draw Gintoki in the first place, you only brought it up to get Takasugi to do it. You wanted to tell him that he was the only one for you, that you had no eyes for anyone else but he wasn't going to let you do that, no, he'd rather pour all of his frustration into you.

Soon enough, you felt him getting more tense, his pace getting sloppy and frantic until finally, he slowed down. Reaching out to you, he pulled your hair with one hand, yanking your lips away from him while his other hand pumped his cock, angling it towards your face. Lolling your tongue out of your parted lips, you saw him smile at you right before his cum hit your face, rope after rope of it painting you white.

Slowly, he let go of your hair, his grip turning into a soft caress as he patted your head, brushing your hair gently. Even though he was still riding his high, Takasugi looked rather composed, his chest barely going up and down as he caught his breath. The sneer was gone from his face, his expression becoming rather winsome as he watched you lick his cum off your lips. He could be harsh to you to his heart's content, yet whenever he looked at you like that, you couldn't help but swoon.

After you had licked yourself clean, you could still feel traces of him on your face and so you got up, walking towards the pile of towels that lied on his desk. Wiping the remaining cum off, you noticed that he had also gotten up, his yukata draped over his body as he walked towards you.

"Have you finished?" You wouldn't let me, is what you wanted to say, but you knew he wasn't referring to your own pleasure.

"There's still some work that needs to be done but I can show you." He nodded as you escorted him to your chair, picking up your sketchbook to present it to him. Takasugi leaned closer to you from behind, feeling his body pressing against yours as he peered at the paper, closely studying the details of your sketch. Twisting your neck to look at him, you couldn't really tell what he thought of it, his eye traveling from one spot to another over and over again. Considering how he wasn't the one to sugarcoat things, you were expecting the worst although you were quite proud with the outcome yourself.

"Looks accurate enough." He mumbled, taking a step away from you.

"Does that mean you'll model for me again?" Turning around, you watched his lips curl into a smile as he walked closer, his arm wandering towards your waist, pulling you onto him. Rather than answering you, or kissing you for that matter, he reached his other hand to your face, his index grazing your skin as if he was removing something. Bringing it in front of your eyes, you spotted some leftover cum on top of his finger tip. Unable to help it, you rolled your eyes at him as you parted your lips once again, allowing him to push his finger right into your mouth. Takasugi didn't bother hiding his amused expression while he watched you suck his finger clean, pleased with your response.

Once you were done, he brushed it on top of your lips, letting go of your waist as he turned his back on you.

"I'll let you use me for your art one more time... as long as you let me use you in return."

[lilac-5ky]

Today is a sad day for me, it's the birthday of my best friend who passed away 6 months ago... I'm trying to remember our happy memories but it's still hard...

But I was wondering if you'd be willing to write a scenario of takasugi comforting his s/o on their deceased best friends' birthday ? I just need some tender stuff in this sad day

A/N: First of all, I'd like to say that I'm really sorry for your loss. It's always sad to have young people pass away and I can't imagine what it must be like for you. I haven't really lost anyone close to me so it's not as if I can channel that feeling, still, I decided to write this right after receiving your request. I hope this is enough to comfort you in the slightest and hey, if you want to talk to someone, I can listen.

Uh side note, I may need to be a bit vague or a bit specific while writing this considering details might be required.

Takasugi comforting S/O after the death of a friend.

Six months, half a year, that's how long it had been, you realized looking at the calendar. Six months had gone by since that fateful day, since the day your cherished friend, your comrade, the one person that tied you to your previous life, had fallen in battle. She had been the one person who'd been with you through it all, the happy moments, the sad moments, the war, pretty much everything. If you were to be honest with yourself, she had even been the reason behind your joining the Kiheitai. If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't have considered Takasugi's offer, you wouldn't have forsaken everything to go on what appeared to be a suicide mission. Yet here you were, while she...

In all these months following her absence, so much had changed that you had no time to look back, no time to reminisce, no time to mourn. To follow Takasugi meant to look into the future, to drag your feet if needed forward. Allowing yourself to hesitate would only result to you becoming deadweight to everyone, including him, especially him. To even think that if it wasn't for her, you wouldn't have joined him, you wouldn't have met him, you wouldn't have fallen for him and he wouldn't have fallen for you. Words couldn't describe how grateful you were for her, to have been her friend even if it was for a short period of your lifetime. No matter what, the debt you owed her would be one you needed to carry on, a debt you'd make sure to repay whether that was in this life or the next one.

And so, six months had passed with you carrying on, refusing to shed a single tear for her, no matter the pain. Yet something about today was different, it was her birthday after all. Usually, you didn't care much about birthdays, always nagging when your own birthday came around. She always tried to make things into a big deal, forcing you to try to repay her kindness in the form of gifts during her birthday. No matter how small or grand it was, she always appreciated whatever it was that you got her, while you insisted that there was no need to celebrate getting older like that. Still, now that she wasn't around anymore, you longed to celebrate just one last time with her, just this once.

This is a mistake, you mumbled out loud, clenching the gift bag tight against your chest as you walked through the port, looking around you just to make sure you weren't followed. You walked frantically through the crowd, making your way to the city. There was no telling how long you'd been walking, each step bringing you closer to your destination, the only thing indicating how much time had passed being the sun setting behind you.

Soon, you reached your old neighborhood, the familiar rows of houses standing there stubbornly against the passage of time. No one lived there anymore, everyone having either moved away, evacuated or...

Your steps became heavier as you looked at your own house, a reminder of a forsaken past, a bygone era. Walking through the ruins, you found yourself standing before her house, the place where you'd spent the majority of your childhood at. This is where you played together, where you ate together, where you had planned each and every of your shenanigans together, a house that felt more like home than your actual home.

"Y/F/N, I'm back. I'm home." Pushing the heavy iron gate open, you took a few steps in. The house, although ravaged, was in a better condition than your own. The pillars stood ever so proudly, gatekeeprs of your childhood memories, the floors welcoming your feet with each thump.

Once you reached the porch, you sat near the edge of it, your feet dangling back and forth against the dirt while you placed the bag next to your side.

"It's been so long, hasn't it? I remember the last time we were here, it was back then when you first told me about the Kiheitai. I thought you were crazy, you know? Joining a man whose sole aspiration was to watch the world crumble beneath him. You must have been crazy to follow him yet, maybe, after all I was the one who was crazy enough to follow you." Reminiscing that night, you couldn't help but chuckle softly. "You barely knew how to keep your sword up back then. If the old man knew, then he'd definitely scold you. Really, you are lucky that he passed away first or else..." Pausing for a second you sighed. That's right. Neither her father nor her were around anymore. You were all alone, the only thing keeping you company being the ghosts of the past as you watched your own memories unfold before you.

"Y/F/N, you know, you are really cruel. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have gotten through all this trouble. Look at me now, I'm one of the most wanted people in the entire Edo and all that because of you and you... you aren't even here to see it, are you? Are you even listening to me?" Words started to strain your throat, each time your voice came out sounding like a croak. There was no point holding on anymore. No one was around to see, it was okay.

Reaching to the bag next to you, you fished out a bottle of sake. It was one of the many objects you had brought to her, most of them being her favorite snacks that you had managed to obtain while traveling. Balancing the bottle between your legs, you popped it open.

"You stupid drunkard, I even brought this to you and you won't come drink it. Why aren't you taking it? Why aren't you getting all flushed, begging me to pour you just one more drink, huh? Tell me, Y/F/N, why?" Before you knew it, tears were falling from your eyes, cold rain staining the ground below you drop after drop. Bringing the bottle close to your mouth, you took a sip in an attempt to drown the pain away, the warmth of the alcohol setting your insides ablaze. Once you had enough, you twisted the bottle slightly, angling it towards the ground to pour her a shot, when a hand got in the way, slowly pulling the bottle away from you.

"Such a waste." At the sound of the man's voice, you looked up, finding no other than Takasugi himself looking down upon you.

"Shinsuke? What are you doing here?" Wiping your eyes with the back of your palm, you looked at him. You hadn't even heard him approach you, his steps as quiet as the wind.

"Bansai told me. If I knew what you were about to do, I wouldn't let you have a day off." Taking a seat next to you, he toyed with the bottle between his fingers, peering at the ground. You had promised yourself that you wouldn't let him see you cry, the loss of your friend being a private issue. You had pledged to him that you'd be his ally before his lover and the last thing Takasugi needed was a hesitant and frail blade. However now that you were here, away from prying eyes, you couldn't help but wish that just this once, you could stop being that person for him, that just this once, he would comfort you the way only he could.

"You know, Y/N, this was what she wanted. I've seen many fall in the battlefield, from farmers to renowned warriors, from men and women, to children, even, and I've come to realize that, death makes no discrimination. But, people who join the Kiheitai all have a thing in common; they are well aware of the fate that awaits them and they still choose it over everything else." Bringing the bottle to his own lips, he took a sip, his eye stealing a glance at you. "The point is, no matter how unfair or cruel her fate was, she had braced herself for it the second she joined me. It's the same for her as it was for the ones before her. The ones who have to suffer through a crueler fate, are us after all, don't you think?"

"What... what do you mean?"

"No matter how many die before us, we need to keep moving, using their bodies as a bridge if it means that we'll reach higher. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for their sacrifices. Mourning them, letting sorrow get to us, that's all useless. Instead of letting such bothersome feelings get to you, use them. Fight against this world no matter what it takes, even if you have no blade in your hands just keep fighting. Destroy everything until there is nothing left, until no injustice remains, until we reach the end. This is the life your friend chose, the life you chose. "

Hearing him speak, you knew that he meant well with his words but right now, they only served as a reminder of all the horrible things you'd seen with your eyes. He was right, he was speaking nothing but the truth, yet rather than comforting you, his words only managed to scratch that lump in your throat.

Bringing your hands to your eyes, you buried your face between your palms. God, you looked so pathetic, so weak, yet you couldn't help it anymore. All the suppressed emotions, all the pain, the anger, the guilt was pouring out of you.

Crying to your heart's content like that, you felt Shinsuke moving closer to you, his hips nudging yours while his hand traveled all the way up to yours, taking hold of it. You were forced to look at him, tears getting in the way, blurring his form out. Although you couldn't be certain, you noticed his lips curling into a half smile, a reassuring one at that. Hesitantly, you leaned closer to him, nesting your head in the small of his neck. You knew that Takasugi wasn't the one to appreciate physical contact to that extent, yet you couldn't help it. When it felt as if the earth crumbled beneath you, he was the one stable thing in your life, the one thing you wanted to cling onto and to your surprise, he didn't seem to pull away from your touch.

"How did I let such a fragile woman entice me." Takasugi whispered in your ear, as you felt his hand on the back of your head, caressing you softly as he kept you pressed against him. "Weep all you want today as long as you fight back tomorrow. Even if the world comes to an end, I'll make sure you'll be the last one to see it. Let's reach the end together, Y/N, for your friend, for... Shouyou sensei, for everyone." And with that, you allowed yourself to get lost in his touch, his embrace being enough to mend your broken heart, even in the slightest.

A/N: I HOPE THIS DIDN'T SUCK OKAY, I reall wanted to write something for you ASAP, didn't even have enough time to proof read and change things or to like give it a proper read. Uh, Takasugi isn't the most comforting person, I felt like he'd try to see is "reasonably" and to justify it before giving in a bit so yeah there's that. Once again, I offer you my condolenses and I hope this was close to what you, at least had in mind.

that being said, I'll go through it later and will correct any mistakes and whatsoever, really rushed through it to have it ready by today

[lilac-5ky]

In another life (Takasugi x fem!reader)

Plot: It’s the final time you get to see Takasugi. Knowing that he is willingly walking towards his death, you try to convince him to stay.

Warnings: Heavy angst, nothing more, nothing less than that.

“I wish I had met you sooner. I wish I had met you before the war took your smile away. I wish I could hear you laugh genuinely just once, I wish I could see you happy. I wish you and I could be happy.”

Tears were making you choke right now. There were so many things you wanted to tell him, so many things you wished to say. Time was running away, he was running away from you.

There was nothing you wouldn’t trade for more time with him. Nothing you wouldn’t give up to keep him there with you, even when you knew what his answer would be. Still, as long as he listened, even if he had nothing to say back to you, it was fine. You knew, you always knew it was going to end like this.

“Ever since I met you, all I could do was look up to you. Just like a little kid gazing upon a cherry tree, all i could do was look at you from below, while you kept growing further from the ground, becoming more and more beautiful with each blossom.

"But now spring is coming to an end and I hate that. I hate how I can’t reach you no matter what. I hate how the gap between us keeps growing bigger and I hate how you’ll never allow me to reach you. Even now when spring is almost over, I hate how the only thing I can do is watch as you fade away into my memory.

"How will I, how can I survive the heat of the summer without you? How can I dance through the autumn rain without you? How can I move through the winter blizzard without you? Just how will I be able to go through another spring knowing you won’t be there?” Full on crying, you didn’t even bother to hide your tears. Your heart was getting ripped apart.

“I don’t want our spring to end, Takasugi. I don’t want you to go, I...I can’t let you go." Your voice broke.

"I can’t pretend anymore, I just can’t do this. I’ve loved you for so long that my heart doesn’t know how to beat for anyone else. My body only knows the feel of your hands. My mind only knows the sound of your voice, my lips… I don’t want to stop saying your name. I don’t want to forget your voice. I don’t want to forget your face.”

You placed your palm against his cheek and caressed him softly. It felt warm. Vibrant. Alive.

In that moment, Takasugi smiled and returned the gesture, cupping your face in his hand with great care. He tilted his head and closed his eye, allowing his lips to trace the inside of your palms and then gently, he placed a soft kiss at its center. The sight of him made your heart clench.

“If the world doesn’t have you in it then what good is it? I’d rather let everything burn than see you turn into ashes.” You felt him chuckle against your hand. After all, striving to ruin the world was his specialty.

“I can make you happy. Please! I know I can make you happy. We can make a fresh start even. Move someplace away from here where you won’t be Takasugi Shinsuke the terrorist and I won’t be a member of your faction. It will be just us, you and me. And maybe half a dozen children. We can do that, we can leave together, we can…”

Takasugi never replied to any of the things you said. He didn't seem to waver in the slightest. Nothing could waver his unwavering resolution.

His eye remained shut all the while he listened. He could listen to you talk for hours, though you both knew nothing would change. It was so unfair that you wanted to scream. So unfair that you wanted to throw your fists at his chest to hurt him a fraction of how you hurt.

It was unfair. So unfair. So damn unfair.

“I can’t convince you, can I?” Your voice fell as quiet as a whisper. “You-you will… you really will…”

There was no way to go on. No way for you to keep the tears from streaming down your cheeks.

Takasugi opened his eye and looked at you. The smile on his lips turned to one of utter sorrow, as he attempted to rub the tears off with his thumbs. He only spurred you to weep harder, taunting him to stay just so he could keep your face clear.

He cupped your cheeks with both hands and rested his forehead upon yours. There were no bandages left there. He'd rid of them a while ago. It was just you and him, nudging your noses softly until your lips met to share a kiss.

It only lasted a couple of seconds, yet it felt more profound than any other kiss you'd shared before. It was your last kiss. The last kiss you'd ever exchange, initiating a series of lasts. The last time you got to savor his taste. The last time you got to call him by his name. The last time you got to touch him, feel him, smell him, hold him.

There were parts of you that no one but him had seen, pieces of you only he possessed. Once he was gone, those pieces would too be lost with him, never to be seen again. And so your mourned for him. You mourned for your love and you mourned for the parts of you that would disappear with him.

His arms pulled you closer to him and enveloped you in a tight embrace, while you nuzzled onto his shoulder. Nothing you said made sense anymore. Only the sound of his name kept pouring at your mouth between broken cries and pleads, while his fingers gently patted down the small of your back.

Memories of him went through your head like a slideshow. The first time you saw him. The first time you talked to him. The first time you kissed him. The first time you laid beside him. Memories you'd treasured dearly and memories that would never come, filling in the blanks of what a life with him would have been like.

Slowly, Takasugi pulled away, taking your hands in his a final time before he let you slip out of his reach. The tears had dried from your eyes, when you watched him turn the other way. It was time. Your time was up.

He dragged his feet forward a few steps, and ten he stopped. He looked at you over his shoulder with a smile that was perhaps more sorrowful than the one before.

“Maybe in another life, it’d be nice to live through that dream of yours. Maybe next time we can live like that.”

And with those words, he disappeared from your sight, once and for all.

[lilac-5ky]

Takasugi with an assassin S.O.

PLOT: You are a freelance assassin who is tasked to kill Takasugi. Then stuff happens and you join him. The end.

WARNING: HEAVY HEAVY HEAAAAVY SMUT AHEAD. A BIT OF ANGST TOO.

Takasugi Shinsuke. A name that many knew meant trouble. The name of a man who was as dangerous as he was elusive, the name of the Kiheitai’s leader, the name of the most wanted man in the entire Edo. That was the name of your target.

The mission had been assigned to you by those pesky Shinshengumi bastards, as a means for you to regain your freedom. You found it hard to believe that such incapable parasites had managed to capture you right after succeeding in your previous mission, yet you couldn’t change the past. The blame was yours to take and you were ready to pay the price for your recklessness. You had underestimated your opponent, a mistake not to be made again.

Although their request sounded more like a suicide mission, it was all the more exhilarating to you. To be able to kill Takasugi, a man who was as infamous in Edo as he was in other planets, filled you with great excitement. This would prove to be your biggest challenge yet, and the best part was the fact that you’d never have to worry about the Shinshengumi foiling with your plans anymore, you’d be truly free. The thought alone made you smile, as the cold night breeze hit your face.

The sky was clear, not even the moon dared to shine on a night like this. The roads were empty and there was a relative quietness, other than the soft hum of the cicadas. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, you made your way to the docks where you found Takasugi’s ship anchored. As expected, working with the Shinshengumi had its perks, you thought while processing the intel they had given you. Apparently the reason behind Takasugi’s visit was to meet with a sword smith. The details were unknown but you knew that they’d meet at a quiet and secluded place, away from the prying eyes of any passerby. Due to the meeting being held in such secrecy, Takasugi would most likely be going alone with no guards. It’d be better that way if he wanted to go unnoticed. Guards would serve as an inconvenience for anyone making an attempt at his head however the real danger remained the man himself.

After jumping on top of the building closest to his ship, you decided to camp it out there until Takasugi showed up. The plan was quite simple; wait for him to leave the ship, follow him and then strike once he as out of sight. This would be a fast and clean job, you couldn’t afford to make a single mistake. Who knew, maybe if you succeeded then you might just be able to quit this job once and for all.

Sighing, you leaned towards the edge of the building. Luckily there weren’t too many people out and about at this time and place and so you had a clear view of the area. Sure enough, a few minutes later you spotted the figure of a man exiting the ship, making his way towards the streets of the docks. The man was wearing a quite large hat, therefore you couldn't see his face clearly; still, the bright purple shade of his yukata caught your eye. There was no doubt, the man was no other than Takasugi Shinsuke, the man you were after.

Following him, you jumped swiftly from rooftop to rooftop and onto the ground, hiding behind walls from a safe distance while observing him. The way he walked was slow and steady; he wasn't in any rush for a criminal of his league, you thought. Well, at least that would make your job even easier.

You kept going after him, trying your best to go unnoticed, until you reached a relatively open area. There were no buildings around, meaning there was nowhere for you to hide anymore. It was now or never. Clenching your sword's hilt, you pulled it from its sheathe before approaching the man's back as quietly as you could. Part of you wondered what he looked like, considering the description the Shinsengumi had given you was " purple yukata, sinister smile", which didn't really do justice to describing a person. You had seen many criminals in your line of work, most of them sharing the same features, yet this time you found yourself rather curious to take a look at his face. Oh well, you could always do that once the job was done, you thought before raising your sword above him. With dexterity, you slashed forward, cutting through the man's back. Rolling to the side in order to avoid any potential attacks, you fell onto the ground, adrenaline rushing through you as you glanced down at your bloodied katana. The job was done.

With a slight smile on your face, you got up. As you were about to turn the other way in order to inspect Takasugi's body, you felt a sudden chill going up your spine. Instictively, your grip on your sword tightened, while you slowly turned to face the direction in which you thought his body was. To your surprise, nothing was there, not even a drop of blood, not even a piece of ripped fabric. But, how?

Gulping, you could feel the uneasiness within you growing. You took a step back in disbelief when you bumped into something, someone. " Looks like a mutt was on my tail after all." A voice spoke from behind. Turning to face its source, you were met by the sharp tip of a sword being held against your throat. You had really done it this time. "Who is your owner, mutt?" The same voice asked while pressing the blade closer to your neck.

" I am my own owner. I work solo. And I'm definitely not a mutt." You answered bluntly, feigning bravery when in reality you were trembling. He completely had the upper hand on you and while there wasn't much you could do to avoid your fate, you certainly wasn't planning on simply accepting it.

" Your fangs are quite sharp but a canine without a proper leash remains a mutt." The voice remarked while leaning towards your ear. You could feel the man's breathing on your spine as he spoke again. "I won't ask a second time. Who sent you?"

"Does it matter? You'll off me anyways."

"All bark yet nothing valuable coming out of your mouth. Such a shame, if only your blade wasn't turned against me, I bet you'd make a fine pet."

So this was it, you thought to yourself. You would die because of these filthy Shinsengumi bastards. This was a suicide mission after all, not a chance at freedom. You never had an actual chance to begin with. This was how it'd end for you, in the hands of your final target.

"Shinsengumi. They sent me." You practically yelled in an attempt to stop the man from striking you with his sword. You had been at sword gunpoint many times yet it was all on your own accord. Dying here to protect those meddling weasels was infuriating at the very least.

You heard the sound of a chuckle as the blade on your throat got pulled back a bit. Sighing out loud you stood still, unsure of whether you had actually made it out of this situation unscathed. Well, not exactly unscathed considering the fact that your pride just took the biggest hit.

" Not even the Oniwabanshuu? Expected if they were going to have an attempt at my head they'd send in someone more experienced at least." The man said before retracting his sword completely. "Go. I have no use for you anymore." You heard him say as he begun to walk away. The humiliation you were feeling was unlike any other. Not only had you failed, not only had you fallen prey to him but to be spared like that was simply pathetic. Especially when you hadn't even taken a proper look at him.

Grabbing onto your sword with both hands, you ran towards the man, rage blinding you completely as you were about to strike him again. With a swift move, he turned around blocking your hit with his own sword, using such force that made your katana fall onto the ground away from you. Staggering, you looked at the man with a sly smile. Although you had barely touched him, the force of his block made his hat fall onto the ground, revealing his face.

Slowly your smile got replaced by an expression of pure awe; the man in front of you, the man whose name alone made others tremble in pain, the man who nearly slayed you, that man was actually beautiful beyond compare. He had medium length purple hair that fell onto his face, barely covering the rows of bandages that were wrapped around his left eye. His remaining right eye was glimmering in the dead of the night, piercing your eyes as he looked right back at you. And his smile? Sure, there was something deeply unsettling about it however it only added to his charm. Although words couldn't explain it, there was something about him that you had never encounter previously. From the way he stood to the way he had talked to you earlier, you could tell that the man known to you as Takasugi Shinsuke had a fire burning inside him, a fire so perilous yet so divine. Just like a moth drawn to a flame, it was that blaze that pulled you so dangerously to him. You had seen many men, vile men, horrible men, the worst of criminals. Yet this was the first time you were coming across someone so utterly enchanting, criminal or not.

Unable to move as if he had cast a spell on you, all you could do was take in his form, that was until he put his sword back into his sheath and begun to move away once again.

" Let me join you." Your voice echoed before you even had the time to think things through. "Let me be your blade." You said again, this time in a more assertive tone, yet Takasugi kept walking away, not paying the slightest of attention to you.

Mustering up your courage, you ran towards him once again, catching up to him quickly. " I'll let you put a leash on me, just let me work for you. Let me fight for you." You were practically begging him while part of you was questioning your actions. What the fuck was even wrong with you? Why the fuck would you even want to join a man who belittled you only minutes ago, a man who was not a mere criminal but a terrorist at that. Yet you knew that there was no going back now.

Takasugi seemingly stopped at his track as if he was contemplating your request. After a minute that felt more like a century, he begun walking away from you once again. Thinking that he had turned you down, you couldn't help but feel disappointed, when suddenly you heard his voice again, this time asking what was taking you so long. In disbelief, you grabbed your sword from the ground before following on his stead.

A few months later:

It had been about six months since that fateful encounter with the Kiheitai leader, six months since you had joined the faction yourself. To think that you even planned on retiring when you took on Shinsengumi's deal. Sometimes fate had a funny way of meddling with one's life, you thought as you returned back home. Home... this way of calling Takasugi's ship still felt foreign to you yet this was the closest thing you had to an actual home at the same time.

Your steps were heavy. To be returning back was some sort of miracle of his own. The nature of your missions hadn't really changed ever since you begun working for Takasugi; fight this, steal this, kill this. Nothing particularly new of its own. Yet working as a freelance assassin versus working for the most wanted man in Edo was a completely different experience, considering everyone was literally out to get you. Trust had become a foreign concept to you; out there you were completely on your own, kill or be killed.

At times like this, you were wondering about what you had in mind in the first place when you had asked him to let you join him. You hadn't come back in 3 days, hadn't slept in 3 days, hadn't had a single bite of food in 3 days and all that for what?

"I see you came back in one piece. Good work." You heard the ever familiar voice of his as you entered the ship. Turning around to face Takasugi, you suddenly remembered. This was the reason why you lived and worked like a dog. This was the reason why you had given everything up. This man and his stupidly irritating smile whenever you came back from a mission. He never paid you much attention, never cared for your wellbeing, never really gave a damn about you yet whenever you came back, every single time you'd hear the same two words. Good work.

One could argue that the relationship between you had remained the same in those past six months. The interactions between you were kept at a bare minimum and when you talked he'd always be his most sarcastic self. You'd think he hated your guts if you didn't know any better yet you knew that this was far from the truth. In reality you were nothing to him. Whether you died out there or lived, nothing would change for him and while that thought filled you with rage, it also gave you strength to go on. For whatever reason it was, you craved his attention, his validation and of course, his love.

As sick as it was, as much as you hated the idea, the reason you put up with it was because you secretly loved him. You knew that from the moment he tried to kill you, that feeling you felt back then was unlike any other. If asked, if needed to, you would die for this man in a heartbeat and it would be okay. It would all be okay as long as he lived, as long him and his stupid ideals carried on, it would be fine. The world could go on without you, yet you couldn't imagine a world without Takasugi in it. Just thinking about it filled you with anger, even more anger than your feelings for him caused you.

"Takasugi." You uttered, annoyance evident in your voice. "Is there anything else you want me to do?"

"Hmm? You've turned this obedient as to ask for extra work?" He said in an amused tone. "Drop by my room later, I'll think about it. See you later, mutt." There. There it was. That humiliating nickname he used on you again and again. It made your blood boil because you knew the meaning behind it. You weren't good enough yet, in his eyes you were still lacking. You hadn't failed him once, you were one of his most efficient assassins yet he kept on looking down on you. The hatred you felt for this man was real. Every single day you worked your ass off and you were still a mutt to him, a bastard dog to be disposed of eventually. Yup, you definitely hated him, you thought before returning to your room, tears running from your eyes slowly.

Later that night, after you had managed to get a few hours of sleep, you found yourself standing outside of his door as arranged. Taking a deep breath, you knocked once before walking in his room. In there, you found Takasugi going through the pages of an old green book. You had actually seen him carrying it around but this was the first time you were seeing him actually read it. Once he noticed you, he pushed the book under his futon before gesturing for you come over. In front of him, you noticed four plates, two containing rice while the other two contained some sort of soup. Now that was a first, you thought to yourself before sitting in front of him. After you had been seated, Takasugi begun eating while you continued staring at him. Was this some new kind of degradation, you asked yourself.

“Are you going to keep staring at me like that?” He asked in between of bites. Seeing as you never ceased to look at him, he paused momentarily before gesturing the bowls in front of you. “Just eat already.”

Hesitantly, you took the spoon in between your fingers, slowly digging into the rice and soup he had given you. In all these months of knowing Takasugi, this had been the first time he had offered you anything. If you didn’t know any better, you could have assumed this way his way of getting you poisoned. Poison or not, however, the hunger you were feeling was real; each bite felt like a little piece of heaven on its own.

Once he had finished eating, Takasugi pulled his kiseru from within his sleeve and begun puffing smoke your way.

“Haven’t they taught you not to smoke when someone is eating?”

“Haven’t they taught you not to speak with your mouth full?” He asked in return, a smirk decorating his lips before he puffed some more smoke towards you. Annoyed by his behavior, you pushed the bowls aside, before getting up. Just looking at him made you mad beyond compare.

“Thank you for the food.” You mumbled while making your way towards the door. There was no point being in this room with him any longer.

“I didn’t invite you just for the food. Sit down.” He ordered you with a serious look on his face, patting the floor in front of him. Sighing out loud, you followed his instruction, as you sat down. Once you did, Takasugi put out his kiseru, shoving it back inside his sleeve before looking at you with his green hue. “Why are you here?”

“You told me to come, didn’t you?”

“Why are you here? What is your goal, why did you join me?” He asked again. This was the most talkative he had been in quite a while, you noticed while you tried coming up with an answer. His question caught you off guard as your mind went blank. What am I really doing here, you asked yourself in return.

"Who knows, maybe I really bought into all that coup d'etat shit you're selling. Maybe I also hate the bakufu and want to put an end to all this." You said with a shrug. Looking at him you could tell he wasn't pleased from your answer, yet you couldn't really tell what he had in mind. The man in front of you was incredibly hard to read, always keeping you second guessing with his apathetic expression.

Considering how he didn't ask any further questions, you got up once more. If you stayed any longer in the same room as him, you might do something really stupid. As your hand reached for the door handle, you saw a shadow with the corner of your eye. Instictively you raised your sword, blocking a hit from no other than Takasugi. Turning around to face him, you spotted a smile on him as he held his sword high above your head. What was wrong with this guy, you wondered. Gritting your teeth together, you did your best to fight him back but he was too strong for you to handle. Was he really trying to kill you? He had to, right?

"The Kiheitai don't need someone who can't commit to our cause. At the end, you are just a mutt I found on the streets, aren't you?" He asked you in a very calm manner. Even when you used 100% of your power to fend him off, he barely used any of his.

"For the last time, I am not a fucking mutt!" You argued as you tried your best to push his unwavering blade back, to no avail. That was Takasugi after all. Stubborn and unwavering, just like his blade.

Laughing at your comment, he reached for your throat with his left hand, pinning you against his door stll holding onto his sword with his right. Just how strong was he?

Unable to breathe, you felt yourself chocking around his fingers, finding it hard to keep holding onto your sword. Your grip loosened and with a loud thump, the sword fell onto the floor. Takasugi sheathed his sword as he kept holding you down with one hand, his grip on you getting stronger over time, as if he was taunting you. Even when he was choking the life from you, all of the hatred you felt wasn't directed at him but rather at your own self.

Thinking about it, you had always been pathetic just like a mutt. The war had taken away everything from you, your reason for living, your reason for fighting. Taking on every job you could get your hands on, no questions asked, you had gone by living each day. But this wasn't even a life, this was simply surviving. You shouldn't be allowed to live, trash like you should just disappear. However... looking at his face you realized something. While you had spent all this time quelling your rage by killing petty criminals, he was looking at a bigger picture. He whom could kill anyone at will, was holding back, showing restraint for the sake of accomplishing his own ambitions. He also had a beast within him, you had come to realize. His beast wasn't content with mere slayings of others for the sake of survival, like yours was, no, his beast was one so great that would devour everything when the time comes. When you had chose petty life, he had chose ultimate destruction. Such was the difference and the gap between the two of you.

"I... I joined for you." You managed to utter while he temporarily loosened his grip on you, expecting you to go on. "You think I don't know how pathetic I am? You think I don't spend every day hating on myself? Yet when it comes to you... just look at you already!" Your voice came out in between coughs. "You are brilliant. They call you a terrorist and a mad man but you have made all this happen. You've given scums like me a reason to raise our sword. Because of you I can look at myself in the mirror and not feel embarrassed for being alive in the first place. Your cause? You are right. I couldn't give a shit whether this world goes down, even if I tried to. It's a fucked up place beyond repair. When are you going to realize that the reason I am fighting isn't your stupid cause but you? When are you going to realize that I lov-" Pausing, you realized what you were about to say. Scoffing, you shook your head. " See that's who I am. I am pathetic just like that. Even when you are about to kill me, all I can think about is how great you are. Even when you don't see it, you are beautiful, Takasugi. You are the most beautiful thing I've seen, a thing I must protect. If that's not enough reason to be on this ship then I don't know what is. Throw me out or kill me, I don't care. Dying in your hands would be doing a favor to a trash like me, anyways."

Looking at him, you noticed a slight flickering in his eye that he was quick to hide. His expression remained the same as earlier, although his lips slowly formed into a straight line, dropping his trademark smirk. Takasugi took a step back, letting go of your throat completely. His eye was still fixated on you but he seemed rather absent minded as he took in your form. Gasping for air, you rubbed your throat where his hand previously was. You wondered, what was he thinking?

Takasugi opened his mouth as if he had something to say, but ultimately, all he did was shake his head. Was he mad? No, he didn't look mad, you thought while observing him. Puzzled was closer to describing the way he was. Turning his back on you, he walked away, leaving you to just stand there by yourself.

"You may go." That was the only thing he said, without even looking at you. After everything you had just said to him, after confessing your feelings to him, that was all he had to say? No, no way. Anger begun building up inside of you. It was easier to channel all of your feelings into hatred and anger, rather than to actually allow yourself to feel sadness. To be rejected like this as if you were nothing more than a pest... not that wouldn't do.

Without any hesitation, just like that night, you rushed towards him, extending your hand towards his shoulder. If he didn't want to look at you then you were going to make him see. If he didn't wanna hear, you, then you'd make him listen. There was no getting away from you.

"Takasugi!" You yelled his name as you wrapped your fingers around the fabric on his shoulder. Yanking it towards you, you actually made him turn around to face you. But that couldn't be it... not unless he...

Interrupting your thoughts, you felt his lips crash into yours. You weren't even sure whether you were the one who kissed him or if he was the one to kiss you. Surprised, you blinked your eyes, while you kept pressing against him. His own eye was shut and reluctantly you followed suit. Letting go of his shoulder, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Whatever the case was, whether you kissed him or not, he was letting all of this happpen. He let you cling onto him, he let you touch him, he let you kiss him. That man, did.

Takasugi's hand made its way into your hair, pulling onto them until he yanked you away from his face. You were both out of breath as you looked at one another with his fist still holding onto your hair. You didn't care if this was a mistake, you didn't care if he'd make you pay, right now all you wanted to do was kiss him again and again until that stupid smirk of his stopped coming back up. That's right, that's all there was to it. You didn't love him, you didn't love him, you didn't-.

With a sudden tug that made you throw your head backwards, Takasugi made you whimper in pain before closing the gap between you with his lips. With his left hand still residing in your hair, his right hand grabbed you by the waist, pressing your body firmly against his. Forcing your mouth open, he shoved his tongue in between your lips. As if battling for dominance, you pressed your tongue against his, exploring every bit of his mouth in an attempt to taste all of him. If you really didn't love him, then why where you shivering from anticipation? Why did you want him to fuck you senseless?

As if reading your thoughts, Takasugi pulled on your hair once again, this time with much greater force, interrupting your kiss violently as you dropped onto the floor. That bastard...

You were about to protest when he dragged his fist (along with your hair) towards his body, making you get closer to his crotch. He didn't mean...?

Answering your question, Takasugi undid the belt of his yukata, exposing his naked body for you to see. Your eyes were in the same level as his cock was, fully errect and at your disposal. The sight of him caused your entire body to heat up, feeling yourself getting wet upon seeing him like this. You hated how he made you feel, how he made you crave him so much, how he could make you feel like a cheap whore and you'd even thank him for it.

Takasugi's hand guided you towards his cock and you knew what he wanted you to do. Wrapping your hands around it, you let yourself get accustomed to his length. You weren't particularly experienced with pleasuring a man, but this wasn't just anyone, this was Takasugi we were talking about and anything less than perfect would not do.

Moving your hands towards the base of his shaft, you grabbed onto it more firmly, earning a barely audible groan from him. Smirking, you looked up at him as he eyed your every move. Without hesitation, you moved your lips towards his tip, letting your tongue twirl around it softly. Teasing him like that, you wrapped your lips around him, savoring the salty taste of the precum that was already leaking. Takasugi's hand was still gripped around your hair, however now it felt more as if it was pressing onto your head. Unsure of how much of him you could take in, you pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, feeling it hit the back of your throat when it was only halfway in. Disappointed, you tried harder to take more of him in you, yet it was proving to be harder than you had imagined. Tears were already building up in your eyes and your gag reflex was rejecting the tension.

Pulling back, you let his cock drop out of your moth with a pop. Maybe it would be better if you used your hands more, you thought before making another attempt. Shaping your hands into a fist, you pumped his length slowly up and down before eventually letting him back into your mouth. Tilting your head slightly, you were able to take more of him in you, as you started to build up a steadier pace. You could tell you were doing a good job because of the way Takasugi was looking right now; he was panting softly while his eye was shut, a small smile having crept up his lips. Taken aback from the sight of him, you felt your heart beating faster. He looked so endearing like this, you thought.

Interrupting your thoughts, you felt his hand pulling you away from him. Surprised, you let go of him, as drool mixed with precum dripped from your lips. Kneeling in front of you, his hand that was previously attached to your hair, picked your chin up, moving it closer to his mouth. Licking your lips, he tasted himself on you as he started to plant kisses on your jaw and neck. You felt him graze his teeth on your skin, occassionally biting down on you. Even when the two of you were in such situation, he remained the ever aggressive and passionate man you knew he was.

Takasugi laid flat against the floor, pulling you on top of him by the waist. You found yourself straddling his hips, as his cock poked your panties. Rocking your hips against him, the friction made you moan out loud. Although he probably couldn't tell, you were soaking wet at that point and even a simple touch was enough to drive you mad. Takasugi smirked at your reaction, reaching straight for your underwear with one move. His hand pushed the fabric to the side as he dipped his two fingers right into your entrance. The sensation made you clench your walls around him, as he moved his digits in and out of before completely pulling them away. Bringing his fingers to his own lips, he licked them clean as he smiled.

"If only you were as sweet as you taste." He teased you, speaking for the first time in a while. Rolling your eyes you huffed at his comment. He could be such an annoying piece of shit at times. "Now prove to me that keeping you was a good decision." Takasugi said, placing both his hands around your hips.

You hated to admit it but the way he was so commanding with you, the way he teased you like that made you even wetter. Even if part of you wanted to stand up against him, to go against his will, the part of you that was right now there with him wanted him so badly that you couldn't even think straight. To think that he had even given you such a chance...

Using your fingers to keep your panties tucked out of the way, you grabbed his cock once again, easing yourself around him. Taking all of his length into you, made you lose balance from the sensation. Pressing your lips together, you tried to suppress your moans as you begun riding him, a task that felt much more difficult than you originally thought. Just by having him in you, you felt extremely overwhelmed and focusing on pleasuring him while keeping a straight face was far too taxing.

Realizing how you were having a difficult time, Takasugi thursted his hips into yours, making all traces of self control you ever had, evaporate into thin air. This was too much. Losing control, you let out a loud moan, nearly falling onto his chest, if it wasn't for his hands keeping you pinned down. Taking advantage of your weakness, Takasugi kept thrusting into you inconsistently, either going all in with his movements or just rocking his hips in a circular motion. Seeing you all messed up must have been quite entertaining to him, considering how he chuckled softly. Can you stop acting all cute in a situation like this? You wanted to tell him but you couldn't even form words with your mouth, syllables getting lost between moans and whimpers.

"Tell me, why did you join the Kiheitai again?" He asked you, pausing his movement momentarily. He really wanted you to embarrass yourself like that twice? Although talking about embarrassment was unfitting when you had his dick shoved in you.

"Because of you." You said in a flat voice. You wanted him to get it over with already, you were so close to finishing, edging you like that was cruel of him. Teasing you, he pulled out of you almost completely, probing your entrance with his tip only. Biting your lip, you looked away from him, you really hated him when he acted like that.

"Not that. The other part." He said, shooking his head dimissively as he pushed in a bit further. That bastard.

"Because I..." It was really hard to form sentences when he was looking at you like that. You could tell he wanted this too, however he was far better at holding back. "I uhm..."

"Because I love you." You practically yelled as he thursted deeper in you at once. Smirking, he nodded. "Say it again."

" I love you Takasugi." You said while groaning. " I love you, I love you, I love you, even when you are a fucking bastard, I still love you." You repeated to him. You could tell he was content with your replies, considering he finally stopped messing around and begun fucking into you with much greater force than before. You felt your mind going foggy as you neared your climax. With a final push you felt yourself coming undone around him, clenching your walls around his cock. After a couple more thrusts, Takasugi let himself cum within you, filling you to the brim with his seed. Letting go of your hips, you saw his hands dropping to his sides softly. You could tell that he was as out of breath as you were, observing the way his toned chest went up and down. As he slipped out of you, cum dripped from your hole onto the thighs of the two of you.

Unsure of what to do now, you got off him rolling to the side while doing your best to avoid his face. You couldn't believe such a thing had just happened. What would you do? What would you say to him? How could you ever face him again? Your head was still ringing from your orgasm and so answering any of your questions was deemed impossible right now. Looking down at your legs, you could see them slightly shake, another evidence of what had just transpired. Feeling the stickiness in between your thighs and walls was yet another proof. To have Takasugi's seed in you... God if he wasn't here you would allow yourself to fangirl over that. To even think how the ill fated relationship between you had begun, it was so utterly laughable.

Hesitantly, you looked at him. He looked so gorgeous like this, you thought, unable to hide your admiration for him. Reluctantly, you raised your hand in an attempt to carress his face. Takasugi turned your way to face you, grabbing your hand before it could touch his face. You thought he'd just shake you off however he didn't. He just held onto your hand before rolling his body to face the opposite direction, your hand still attached to his. You tried to pull it back but he just wouldn't let go. Stubborn even now, you noted.

Being left with no choice, you gave up on escaping his side tonight. You were still wearing your clothes and your thighs were glued together yet Takasugi didn't even seem to care about that. After a while, you thought he had fallen asleep but then you heard his voice one last time.

"Not half bad for a mutt. I knew you could become a proper pet eventually."

[sugisyakult]

NO BC MY BESTIE IS SO AMAZING WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING!!! I FALL HARDER FOR SUGI EVERY SINGLE TIME I READ HER FANFICS

🎁 Christmas with Takasugi and your daughter (x Fem!Reader) Part 2🎄

A/N: It took 500 years to write this, and before anyone dares say "bruh, X-Mas is over", I'm going to say IDC! House visits, domestic fights and lack of contentration got in a way, BUT the second and final part of this 2-part fanfic is here, and HOPEFULLY, was worth the wait!

Plot: Picks up right where the first part left off. I'll link the first one down below ^^

Warnings: SMUT!

Part 1

The next day started with a kiss. Or more accurately, a hasty kiss on your cheek, preceded by the hour-long struggle of breaking free from Kimiko. The girl’s clutches remained buried deep in Takasugi’s arm the entire night. He’d underestimated her. With such great strength, her becoming a samurai wasn’t completely out of the question.

Little by little, he dragged his body along to the edge of the bed, leaving only his right arm behind. He yanked it once, and he yanked it twice, and after a few more tries, he was able to feel the blood flowing in his veins again. Kimiko rolled to the side, her small hands aimlessly seeking her former pillow, until he redirected her towards your body.

You were still asleep. Both of you were, though that didn’t stop you from locking each other in a tight embrace, one that brought a smile to his lips. This was his, he thought. The woman he loved and the daughter he’d created with her. His own family.

The word felt odd and bitter in his mouth. The last time he’d thought of that word was a long time ago, meant for people whom he hadn’t addressed in over a decade. He barely remembered what any of their faces looked like, and for that he had no regrets.

In that household, he was never Takasugi Shinsuke. He was just the firstborn son of an unimportant clan that feigned prestige. The firstborn son that would help realize a greedy man’s aspirations and continue his legacy of lies. Nothing more, and nothing less. A tool they had no trouble disposing of the moment it stopped working the way it was supposed to.

Family. After he was disowned, that came to be the last thing in his mind. A family created responsibilities and expectations, and he needed neither to weigh him down. He wanted no more than his soldiers to depend on him. He wished to live for himself, the way that man taught him to. But he’d let that man down. Just like he’d let his family down. Just like he’d let you two down.

Family. What was there for him to give to a family? Between the battlefield he’d chosen and the hollow spot inside his chest, where was he supposed to fit a family in?

Family. He washed the word in his mouth with the sight before him. Kimiko’s small hands squeezing you close. Your long hair cascading down her face. The quiet sound of your breaths attuning to each other.

He looked at you and thought that perhaps this once, he could allow himself to take. That he could fit himself right between your bodies, not as Takasugi Shinsuke the firstborn, or Takasugi Shinsuke the Kiheitai commander, but simply as Shinsuke and whatever ridiculous nickname Kimiko had in store for him.

Family, he tasted a final time. Perhaps he could get used to that.

Having spent more than enough time of pointlessly standing there, he decided it was time to go. He tiptoed all the way to the door, where he found a dark piece of fabric sprawled across the wooden floor. The scarf, he remembered as he knelt down to pick it up. You always did such unnecessary things without him asking, though he couldn’t complain. Not when said things gave him excuse to go back to bed and sneak a kiss on your cheek.

And now, it was really time to go.

With his newly acquired gift to shield him from the cold, Takasugi wandered through the bustling streets of Edo, soon finding himself in the middle of the town’s annual Christmas market. He really thought he’d successfully evaded the Kiheitai’s Secret Santa plot, yet there he was, gift-hunting less than a day later.

In his lifetime, he could count the gifts he’d bought for others on one hand, and none of the recipients were remotely close to Kimiko’s age.

When Matako turned 18, he remembered being dragged to this very same market by Bansai who insisted that a girl’s coming of age was a significant event. The two reviewed more kimonos than a bride would at a dress fitting, though in the end, each opted for a different choice; Bansai for a cellphone, and Takasugi for the holsters the blonde currently sported around her waist. She seemed more than elated and thanked them both sincerely, going so far as to break into tears of happiness.

That must have been the last time he’d personally made a purchase on someone’s account, but then again a past success didn’t guarantee a future one.

The situations were hardly the same. Bansai wasn’t there to assist him, and he didn’t know Kimiko the same way he knew Matako. He didn’t know whether she fancied practical or pretty things, and he didn’t have a clue what colors and designs she preferred. Even when he’d quite literally been shown her Christmas wishes, he was incapable of fulfilling either.

And so, he decided to examine each and every stall one by one, hoping that somewhere between the corny Santa merchandise and elaborate snow globes, a sufficient gift would emerge.

The first merchants he encountered were all representatives of well known retail chains and brands. They sold just about anything anyone would need, gathering the vast majority of the crowd around them. A true display of capitalism, he scoffed, watching the mouths of the customers parti in awe and the hands of the stallholders eagerly stretch to grab the cash.

He let a few entertain him, allowing them to point him towards their “finest goods”. From exquisite fur coats to silver cutlery, each suggestion got more ridiculous than the one before, as if instead of “five year old girl” he’d said “sixty-five year old woman with a knack for luxury”. Eventually he nodded them off and left, keeping his muffled curses to himself.

He pulled away from the popular stalls in favor of the few solitary craftsmen up ahead, stopping before a kokeshi doll artist.

The man was bent over his newest creation with a rigger brush in hand, meticulously painting the details of her face. Each line came to paint an elegant yet slightly mischievous expression. Her hair was dark and her kimono light, with a pattern of scarlet red poinsettias all over. She wasn’t particularly pretty, and certainly did not compete with the new generation toys he’d seen, but there was something eye-catching about her design.

“Are you looking to buy, samurai-san?” The man asked, twisting the doll’s head in place and setting her aside.

“Your craft is interesting.” Takasugi commented. “Differs from the typical daruma dolls.”

“Why, thank you for your praise. ” He bowed. “Pick whichever one you like.”

Without spending any time to consider, Takasugi drew a pouch from his yukata and dropped a handful of coins on the counter. “The poinsettia one.”

“You know the meaning behind it?” The man smiled. “These flowers indicate more than Christmas cheer. They indicate blessing, and one should always count their blessings before the year ends. Don’t you think so?” He packed the doll in a small bag and extended it to him.

Suddenly, the face of a certain impressionable yet equal parts mischievous girl popped in his mind. The girl that’d come into his life as a mistake and stayed as a remorse. The girl he’d treated with utter avoidance and neglect. The girl whose existence he never celebrated. Not on her birthdays, not on Christmas, not once.

A blessing was far from what he’d considered his daughter to be. Still, why was it that at the sound of such vague term, those twinkling eyes and tiny hands on his cheeks seemed to be all he could imagine?

He’d screwed up. Majorly. He claimed the distance he put between them was for her sake; so that the terrible fate he carried would pass her by, but that was a lie. He never considered her. He simply ran away from whatever he thought had a chance at making him happy, because he was damn afraid to consider another as a blessing.

But that’s precisely what you were to him, and that’s what Kimiko was too, and he knew that very well. Just like he knew no gift would be able to compensate for the years lost, and just like he knew the old man was right.

There was still time.

Takasugi took the bag from his hands and bid him goodbye, marching towards the next stall in line.

By the end of his stroll, Takasugi had acquired a total of five Christmas gifts, four of which were meant for Kimiko; the kokeshi doll, a storytelling book about a miniature samurai with a needle for a sword, a plush lion toy for her to clutch onto instead of his arm, and lastly, lego troops that even the child in his heart would envy.

He’d bought a gift for each Christmas he’d missed, but when it came down to the fifth one, that’s what he struggled with the most. As pointless or impossible as it sounds, he hadn’t completely given up on granting her wishes, and while marrying his own daughter was beyond absurd, he wanted to properly introduce her to the life of a samurai.

He wasn’t much older than she was when he got accepted in the military academy and got to hold his first real sword in hand. Even when he hated everything about that place, the experience remained ever vivid in his brain as his first taste of power.

Perhaps her dream to become a samurai was a fleeting one, but in case it wasn’t, Takasugi wished to be present during her first steps. No, he wasn’t mad enough to get her a sword, or let her play with his. Sword-ban aside, she was capable of tearing the entire house to shreds in one fell swoop, and the last thing he needed was trouble with you, yet the question remained the same; if not with a sword, then how?

“This is Hanano Saki reporting live from Edo’s Christmas bazaar for Oedo TV! The stalls are stocked with product, and the holiday spirit is in the air. As you can see, families and couples have already gathered to share the joy of the season, while last-minute shoppers are making their final purchases. Let’s hear what they have to say! Good Morning, Sir, and Merry Christmas! Are you here alone or with a special someone?”

Takasugi was in such deep thought that he didn’t notice the camera crew or the reporter approaching him until a microphone was shoved into his face. He knew who she was. Not personally, but he’d seen her interview those carol-singing kids on the news.

What a bother.

At first, he tried to shake her off and get going, though by the look of it, he wouldn’t be able to do that without causing a scene. His hands were heavy on shopping bags, and drawing a blade on an insignificant reporter seemed rather far-fetched. In the end, he simply shook his head and awaited her next question, hoping that more would not follow.

“Whom are you shopping for?”

“My daughter.”

“You have a daughter? That’s lovely!” Saki feigned excitement. “What did your little girl ask for Christmas?”

“She asked to become a samurai. Says she wants to be just like me.”

“How admirable! Do you work for the Shogun, sir?”

“On the contrary.” Takasugi smirked. “I am the one who’s after your Shogun’s head.”

It took a minute to register, but once it did, both Saki and the camera crew shared an awkward chuckle, before she motioned them to film elsewhere and vanished from his sight.

Nothing had changed since his last visit. No one wanted anything to do with a terrorist, and as long as this was his get-out-of-jail-free-card, he didn’t mind abusing it to avoid others. Although, he wouldn’t be surprised to receive a phone call from Bansai later, should he listen to the news. Oh well.

Takasugi resumed walking, and he walked for quite a while, until he’d left the Christmas Market behind him for good. Kimiko’s fifth gift would have to wait. There was no point for him to risk a public showdown with Bakufu’s police dogs in the middle of the crowd. Not when he had a dozen of bags restricting his movements.

He kept shifting their weight from one hand to the other, huffing in annoyance each time. Perhaps if he packed them all into one bag it’d be better, but there was nowhere for him to place them. Snow prevailed everywhere he looked. From the frozen waters of Edo River to the fluffy coating of all benches. All, except one.

Elated, he rushed in its direction, his hurried steps coming to a halt the second he realized the bench wasn’t as vacant.

A pair of black boots dangled over the edge, with the rest of the man’s body hidden underneath the snowy blanket. Empty bottles of sake were scattered around, revealing all he possibly needed to know of his identity. Another homeless drunk, or so he thought until he spotted a strand of pure silver where the man’s head was supposed to be.

Out of all the people in Edo… it couldn’t be him, right? Out of all the people he could possibly meet, this wasn’t him, right?

Unable to win over his curiosity, Takasugi leaned closer and stretched his hand forward, when a wild sneeze sent him flying back. His clothes turned white and his bags dropped to the ground. It was as if a mutt shook itself dry against him, the amount of snow on his yukata exceeding the one that remained on the bench, and in turn, the passed-out man’s body.

Gintoki.

“Just one more bottle, babe, and I will… I will…” The silver haired samurai snored, completely unaware of his presence.

His dead-fish eyes were squeezed shut, and his mouth was half-full of snow as he repeated incomprehensible and vastly inappropriate words about cabaret girls. In his arms, he cradled a wooden bokuto and in his belt, another half emptied green bottle served as a sheath.

How can he live like this? Takasugi pondered, both angered and disheartened by the state of his former comrade. If he was going to live like this, then why did he break his promise? Why did he choose to stay back and settle for living a life more pitiful than the one he lived before? How could he…? How could he have chosen him?

His fists balled at his sides. One eager to punch Gintoki till his knuckles bled, and the other aching to punch the world into shreds. He’d never admit how much it pained him to see him this way, and perhaps that’s what he dreaded the most about their next encounter.

He needed to know Gintoki hurt the same way he did. He desperately needed to know he wasn’t alone in this. That what had united them in the first place still burned within him, but at the same time, he needed nothing more than to rid his memory of his friend’s teary image.

Suddenly, Gintoki began stirring in his sleep, his left hand dragging the bokuto towards his mouth as he attempted to take a sip from it. Takasugi shot him one of his infamous glares, though he meant little harm. If anything, he was relieved to see the idiotic samurai remain as idiotic as he remembered him to be.

He yanked the bokuto from his hands and replaced it with the unemptied bottle. He guided it to his lips and tilted it until the snow dissolved at the back of his throat. Gintoki hummed in approval, tightening his lips around the rim as if it were a nursing bottle.

Takasugi took a step back, unsure why he’d chosen to accommodate him. Be it out of pity or sympathy, one thing was certain; next time, there wouldn’t be sympathy for him to spare.

He picked the bags up and turned to leave, when the unmistakable sound of sirens forced his ears to perk up. Shinsengumi. The thought followed after his feet did. With Gintoki’s bokuto still in hand, he pranced through the streets all the way back into the Christmas market, hoping to shake them off within the crowd.

People parted at the sight of him running, few of them gasping as he pushed through them. He had no time to turn around and face his chasers. Even when there was no place for a car to fit in, he knew they were right behind him, following after the trail of distressed shoppers. There were two of them-no, there were three of them. Two on his back, and one to his right. Their voices were most distinct among the clatter, growing louder as they closed in on him.

Running out of options, Takasugi threw himself into an alleyway. A dead-end that reduced his options from flight or fight to just the latter. He gripped Gintoki’s bokuto and assumed a defensive stance, when a certain red dressed man came to be his only form of salvation.

When you woke up this morning, both Takasugi and the scarf were missing. He disappeared without so much as leaving a note behind, though that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. You were used to his sudden appearances and disappearances, and simply carried on with the rest of your day like you normally would.

You cooked breakfast. You washed the dishes. You cooked lunch. You washed the dishes. You cooked dinner, and now, you washed the dishes anew. The same routine as on any other day, except your mind was on him more so than per usual.

Each visit of his made your next parting all the more difficult to bear. You’d promised to wait for him no matter how long it took to see his goals through. That was the vow you made on that day, and you planned on honoring it till the end, but at times like this, it felt like your body would give out before your heart did.

“Mommy, why are you sighing?” Kimiko, who was sitting at the table, asked.

She’d spent her entire afternoon by your side, all the while she attempted to incorporate Takasugi into her drawings. He was reduced to this Hitotsume Kozou-looking creature with butterfly wings on his back and about five swords in each hand, while your neck was elongated enough to compete with a giraffe. Kimiko proudly stood at the center, looking about ten times her actual size, with a surfboard-wide sword flying over her head.

The rest of the props included a glowing green sun, vibrant yellow grass, and a house from which three heads popped: a curly brown-haired one with sunglasses, a slick black-haired one, and a silver-permed one, each representing her beloved uncles.

Drawing was nowhere near her strong suit, but the way she’d depicted the three of you holding hands made this particular picture far more valued than any of the ones she’d drawn before.

“Mommy’s just a bit tired.” You answered, throwing a look over your shoulder. “Have you finished your drawing?”

“Mhm!” Kimiko held the paper up for you to see. “I gave papa a big smile and put love all around him!”

“That’s not love, sweetie, that’s just hearts.” You chuckled, scrubbing the final plate. “People experience love through them.”

“Do I have a heart, mommy?”

“Of course you do!”

“Does papa have one? Does papa love me with his heart?”

“Of course he does!” You assured. “Even when we can’t see others’ hearts, we can always see the love in them, and you should know your father’s heart is full of love for you.”

Kimiko beamed and you felt a weight dropping off your shoulders. This was a reminder for yourself, as much as it was for her. He loved you. Takasugi loved you. He loved you enough to keep coming back, and he loved you enough to drag danger away from you, and that as all you needed to stop sulking.

“Mommy, the bell is ringing!”

Between the faucet’s sound and your own thoughts, you failed to pick up on the distant ring that echoed rampant in the background.

“Really? I don’t hear anything-”

Before you had the chance to even wash your hands, Kimiko raced all the way from the kitchen to the door, dropping a path of chipped crayons in her tracks. She paid no mind to your warnings about opening the door for strangers, and instead, she pushed it wide open, her jaw dropping at the sight that awaited her.

It was a man. A man who was neither her father, nor a complete stranger. A man dressed in a red suit with white fur trim on his hem, sleeves and hat, and a wide buckled belt around his waist. A man whose clothing was so loose that revealed half his chest, and whose fake graying beard was about to drop from his face. A man with one eye concealed by bandages, and another that burned with sheer rage and disappointment.

A man who was most definitely not Takasugi Shinsuke, but Santa neither.

Kimiko stared at him for quite a while, the colors of her expression changing from utter excitement to pure apathy as she shut the door in his face and sprinted back towards the kitchen.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to open the door when you don’t know who it is?” You reprimanded her in a stern tone, while she fumbled with an object behind your back.

“I thought it was papa.” Kimiko said.

She dragged a stool close to the counter and climbed on top of it to search for the cookie jar. Once she found it, she drew a handful of cookies out and carefully wrapped a napkin around them.

“Was it?” You dried your hands against your apron.

“No. Just Santa.” Kimiko stepped down and vanished outside the room.

“Santa? What do you-Kimiko! Wait!”

The girl pranced back towards the door, greeting a significantly more distressed Takasugi with the delicacies she’d hand-picked for him. He stretched his hand to accept them, confusion spreading across his features the second he peered at the napkin’s content.

“Great lord Santa-sama,” she clasped her hands in reverence, “Kimiko apolozigies for bringing you here for no reason, but Kimiko doesn’t need your assassinstance anymore.” She stuttered. “Commander General Papa said I can grant my own wishes now, and after I turn 105, he’ll show me his eye’s great secrets and marry me.”

Takasugi struggled to reply in a way that didn’t involve him tearing his fake beard off his chin and repeatedly stomping it onto the ground. The chase had exhausted his willpower, and moving in this furnace of a suit pushed him past the brink of insanity.

Every kid he’d come across stopped him to ask for either a picture, a gift, or to sit on his lap. The humiliation was unlike any he’d experienced, but when his daughter shut the door in his face a second time, he realized that to be wrong.

A pair of hands snatched Kimiko right as she did, inducing a high-pitched squeal from her.

“Mommy!” She flapped her arms repeatedly to free herself.

“When did you turn into such a disobedient little girl? Why are you not listening when I speak? And who is this Santa you are talking about?”

“It’s the real Santa! Look, mommy, look!” She pointed at the peephole.

Reluctantly, you set her down and took a peek at what appeared to be a bush of gray hair, right where the man’s jaw ought to be.

No way.

With one hand shoving Kimiko’s head behind, you opened the door, coming face to face with your unannounced visitor; a very angry, Santa-cosplaying Takasugi, who could very well have come to deliver death threats instead of gifts.

“I told you it’s Santa!” Kimiko bragged, pointing at his face with a smug expression.

“I… can see that,” was the only thing you managed to say. The shock was too great to even laugh at his mismatched outfit.

“He has one eye just like papa!”

“I can also see that…”

“That’s because I am-” Takasugi attempted to butt in, only to be interrupted right after.

“That’s because Santa had a terrible accident! He, uhm-” You squeezed your brain to find an appropriate excuse, possibly coming up with the worst there is. “He was stabbed in the eye by Rudolph’s antlers!”

Kimiko gasped and Takasugi blinked, while you wished to swallow your tongue.

“Scary!” She buried her face in the crook of your leg.

“You don’t need to be scared, sweetie! I’m sure Rudolph didn’t mean to hurt Santa! Isn’t that right, Shin- Santa?”

You stared deeply into his eye and begged him to keep up with your charades. He seemed more than unwilling to do so, though in the end, he simply shrugged and balanced his giant red sack from one shoulder to the other.

“That looks heavy! Would you like to come in for some hot yak-cocoa?” You forcibly tried to change the subject.

“He can’t!” Kimiko shouted, jumping in the middle. “Papa forbids it!”

“Oi, I never said-” Takasugi shook his head. “Your father never said that. He only said you shouldn’t rely on others for things you can achieve on your own.”

“H-how do you know that, Santa?” Kimiko’s eyes widened.

“Because, I… work with him.” He said.

“Papa works with Santa?”

At this point, he could only spiral deeper into this mess, which he did with a single nod.

“Santa fights bad space guys with Papa?” She asked again. “Then can Santa also use the super secret face eating technique and make them go ‘Kaboom’?”

“No. He has his own super secret technique. He slays them with his dual candy cane blades and decks the halls with their blood.” Takasugi grinned, getting a tad too into the role he created for himself.

Kimiko clapped her hands in excitement and peeked over his shoulders, trying her best to spot the so-called blades that he mentioned.

You didn’t know whether to scold or applaud him for his creativity.

“Now, can I come in?”

The girl removed herself from the way and ran towards the living room in circles.

Takasugi sighed and finally stepped in. “How many of those stupid excuses do you come up with?”

“As many as I need for her to maintain her innocence.” You smiled and dusted a few bits of snow off his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t call Rudolph bludgeon as such.”

“And I wouldn’t call turning candy canes into lethal weapons as such either.” You responded and he smirked.

“Mommy, is Santa coming?” Kimiko shouted from the other side of the house.

“Yes, sweetie, right away!”

The two of you followed after her voice, leaving the unexplained situation as is.

“If papa’s rank is general commander, what’s your rank, Santa?”

The three of you had settled in the living room; Takasugi was reclined in the sofa, while Kimiko and you shared the couch. Three cups brimful of hot cocoa were served along a snowflake-shaped platter for you to munch from. Kimiko didn’t hesitate to gobble four butter cookies in one go, and even Takasugi deigned to accept one.

“Space Cavalry Captain.” He deadpanned, dipping his cookie into the mug to soak it up.

“What does Cavalary mean?” Kimiko asked.

“It means, I’m in charge of the space horses.” He took a bite and set the rest aside, having dusted the breadcrumbs off his fingers. “And reindeer.”

“Wow!” She exclaimed in genuine awe. “Santa, are all reindeer trained to be bloodthirsty?”

“Kimiko!”

“Some.” He smirked as he brought the cocoa to his lips. “But they make excellent companions.”

Takasugi took a sip and nodded twice in your direction as if to compliment you. Knowing his tastes, you’d added an extra chunk of dark chocolate in his beverage to balance out the sweetness.

“Did you bring them with? Can I pet them?”

“They…”

He concluded that none of his three trusty “reindeer” would be up for the task. Bansai had little tolerance for children, Takechi would probably parade her through every single Edo pageant, and Matako was just a child herself. Except she wasn’t, but he always found it more convenient to forget that.

“Never mind.” He faintly chuckled. “How about you open your presents instead?”

Kimiko ran a lap around the coffee table and dipped her head inside the sack, nearly slipping right in. A bunch of different sounds rustled as she did, making even you wonder what it was that he’d gotten her.

The first object Kimiko drew out was an adorable lion plushie with a sun-shaped mane and big marble-like eyes. She lifted it above her head and took a good look at it before squeezing it tight in her embrace.

“Kimiko names you Shishi! Shishi will be Kimiko’s friend forever and will join Papa’s fight!” She proudly announced, sparing the lion a military salute.

She took out the next objects and examined them one by one; She fawned over the doll’s pretty kimono and asked for a real-life-sized one for them to match. She squealed at the action scenes drawn in the book and made a failed effort to read through the words before giving up, and lastly, she took her sweet time to name each and every soldier in her lego regiment, bestowing them with fancy titles that may or may not exist.

All the while she did that, Takasugi, who’d already switched places with her, remained fixated on her every move. The green in his eye flickered with every wrapping that came undone, and only settled after she expressed her excitement with a toothy grin.

You could tell how impatient he was, and you could also tell he was the one who smiled brightest, in spite of the beard that covered the lower part of his face.

Your hand found his behind his back and gently pressed down, forcing him to look away from Kimiko and soldier number 57. “Thank you.” You formed the words in your mouth without speaking them out loud.

Takasugi shook his head and returned the grip, leaning a bit closer to whisper, “Save it for those Bakufu mongrels.”

At first, you were confused. Bakufu mongrels had to be the Shinsengumi, and you couldn’t quite see the connection, until the puzzle pieces began falling in line on their own; his inexplicable tardiness and soured mood. The whole Santa act. It all made sense.

Without realizing it, you broke into a nasal laughter that earned yourself a cautionary glare. One that you couldn’t take seriously when it came from a Santa-cosplaying terrorist.

He was right to make light of the Shinsengumi. Only a blind man would not recognize him in his makeshift disguise. He mostly looked like he always did, except a bit more festive.

“Woah!” Kimiko yelped and you instantly parted before she could get wind of what you’d been doing. “It looks just like Uncle Gin’s!”

Her dream of acquiring a surfboard-wide sword seemed to have been fulfilled, as the girl lifted a rather familiar bokuto over her head with the inscription “Lake Toya” on its handle. She swung it around, nearly knocking all three cups onto the floor.

Takasugi reacted right on time, catching the sword’s edge between his palms and then lowering it away from the table. “Takes more than a sword to make a samurai. The rest is up to you.” He retracted his hands.

Kimiko nodded and set the sword down. “Santa is the coolest!”

“I thought your father was!” He argued.

“Santa is the second coolest!” She corrected and he smiled in content.

“What about mommy?” You frowned.

“Mommy is third coolest!”

Takasugi snickered, while you fell back against the couch, comically dejected.

“I’ve failed…”

His cackle mellowed into a smile as he ran a finger across your cheek. You looked up at him, expecting to hear words such as “To me, you are the one who’s coolest” or even “You could never fail”, but instead, all he did was pick a leftover crumb and flinch it off your face.

“Is that really Gin-san’s?” You mumbled.

“Does it matter?” He shrugged. “That idiot has no use for it besides poking his nose with it.”

You couldn’t deny that Gintoki had fallen from grace. He spent more time wandering around and spending his meager coins on booze and Pachinko than doing actual Odd Jobs, but that didn’t justify robbing him off his sword. After all, Gintoki had always been more than accommodating to both Kimiko and you.

Noticing your scowl, Takasugi leaned closer once more. “Don’t worry. I’ll send him a card.”

“‘Merry Christmas, I stole your bokuto, ho ho ho’?” You chaffed.

“More like ‘Merry Christmas. Talk to my daughter again and it will be your last’.”

The two of you shared a quiet chuckle.

“That does sound more like you.”

“Mommy, when will papa return?” Kimiko interrupted, her new-found bokuto standing proudly by her side as if it were a pitchfork.

Your gaze gravitated from Kimiko to Takasugi. If he were to make his appearance now, her excitement would keep her up all night, and it was already past her bedtime.

“He might be late, sweetie.” You patted her hair softly. “Why don’t you prep yourself for bed, and I’ll send Santa to find him, mhm?”

The girl nodded in obedience and replaced the sword for her newest plush toy addition.

“Bye, Santa!” She lifted Shishi’s arm and waved him off. “Thank you for the toys and for bringing papa back!”

A faint, almost inconspicuous blush colored his cheeks red as he returned the gesture.

Perhaps ranking third wasn’t so bad.

“That was fast.”

In a room predominated by white and purple hues, Takasugi came to be the sole streak of red. His undone jacket and unbuckled belt revealed a thin strip of skin as he propped himself against the bed sheets. He’d lost both the beard and the stocking hat, with the final accessory he sported being a leisurely smile.

You didn’t have the chance to notice it before, but you had to admit; not even these ridiculous clothes were capable of making him look bad.

“I should have taken a pic when you were still in full outfit.”

“You’ve resorted to blackmail?” He quirked a brow curiously.

You chuckled. “I just want proof that today happened.”

“As if this isn’t enough.”

You closed the door behind and then locked it, just in case a certain troublemaker decided to take a midnight stroll.

“She was already asleep when I entered the room.” You said in response to his previous statement. “I think it’s safe to say she loved her gifts. Poor Shishi’s face is all covered in drool. "

“She’d better. I didn’t go through all this trouble for nothing.” He said.

“How was it? Revisiting Edo.”

“Far noisier than I remembered.”

“And how was Gin-san?”

At the sound of his former comrade’s name, a shadow of discomfort plagued Takasugi’s features. It was a name he avoided with as much strenuity as he avoided the man behind it.

In over five years, this was the first time they’d met with one another, be it by chance or not. Even when Sakamoto and Katsura planned their little get-togethers, neither Gintoki nor Takasugi showed up out of fear of running into each other. They insisted that their bond was cut right where the war ended, but this very avoidance suggested otherwise.

Discomfort gave way to tenacity, his gaze ushering you to revoke your question. This can of worms was one he hadn’t braced himself to open. However, it’d take more than a persistent look for you to bend to his will.

Realizing that, Takasugi closed his eye and took a singular deep breath. “About the same as I remember. Completely out of it.”

There was care behind his disdain. Enough for you to relinquish this topic and shift to another.

“So, you’ll make her into a samurai?”

“Can’t make her into anything, but if that’s what she wants…” He shrugged. “I supposed I could give a hand.”

An involuntarily sigh evaded your lips. “She’s as stubborn as you are. Probably best to learn from you.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it.”

“It’s not that…”

“Are you scared she’ll end up like me?” He snapped, his quiet tone unable to dull his razor-sharp tongue.

“Not that either. It’s just…” You shook your head. “Nothing.”

Silence befell the room, turning an otherwise pleasant evening into something indigestible for the both of you. His eye queried a question that your lips weren’t particularly keen on giving. It wasn’t so much that you didn’t know how to answer him, rather that, you didn’t know of a way to stay true to your feelings without hurting his own.

Saccharine sugarcoating could never substitute bitter truths.

“I just don’t want her getting hurt.” You admitted. “I don’t want her to hurt the way you do. I don’t want to lose her the way I lost you.”

Here, Kimiko was safe. Here, you could hold her hand and wipe her tears whenever things got too hard for her to bear, but out there, she’d be completely on her own, stuck in a world that had no place for neither dreams nor samurai. It was a world that would chew her up and spit her out, and you couldn’t stand to see this happen a second time.

“Is that… so?” The words lingered like poison in his mouth.

Over the past few years, the concept of loss was one he’d become disgustingly familiar with. He’d lost his men, his friends, his teacher, and perhaps even himself, but not once did he think that he’d lost you, let alone that you had lost him.

How could he, when you were right there with him? On the empty pillow of his bed and the stained reflection of his sword. Across starless skies and waveless seas. In his victories and his defeats.

Yours was the smile that warmed him through each night. The voice that lulled him to sleep. The hand that stitched his every wound. It was all yours. It was all you. You’d become an indispensable part of him that he could never lose, so how could you say that you’d lost him?

Out of all the expected outcomes, Takasugi did what was most unexpected; he chuckled. He chuckled at the absurdity and the irony of the situation, and he chuckled at your strained expression and furrowed brows that perfectly mirrored his own.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but you haven’t gotten rid of me yet.” Your eyes met at the same level as he stood up and walked towards you.

“I told you last night, didn’t I? I’m right here. And as for her,” he smirked, “I know for a fact she won’t learn to wield a sword before your hair grows gray.

“So don’t worry. She will end up nothing like me. She won’t die. She won’t shed so much as a drop of blood or tear that is hers.”

Without meaning to, you glanced down at your hair, just in case the graying spots he mentioned had started to manifest. You found none, while he found another reason to chuckle.

“Turn around.”

His sudden command felt out of place, though you had no reason to deny him. You did as told and turned your back on him, coming face to face with the uneasy expression that your dresser’s mirror reflected.

He was also there, as a pair of hands that gradually crawled up your spine and swiped the hair off your neck and shoulders. With one hand he held them up into a topknot, and with the other, he dug through his jacket, eventually revealing a thin golden rod from within. A hairpin, you realized when you noticed the red poinsettia flowers that drooped from one end.

“Even when you grow into a frail, old granny,” he said as he pieced his handiwork together, “this image won’t fade from my eye, just like the image from back then never did.”

Instead of taking a step back, Takasugi snaked his arms around your waist and pressed a tender kiss on your nape. “I look forward to having more images of you etched in my memory, Y/N.” He hummed against your neck. “That’s why I won’t die, and that’s why I’ll make sure our daughter doesn’t die either. To hell with the world, and to hell with everyone else.”

His grip tightened around your body, hoping to affirm his promise.

You took in that image and you wondered; what would it be like to grow old beside him? To see the color of his eye pale and the fire within extinguished? What kind of lines would shape up his face? Would he look any less striking than he now did? Would there come a day when the sight of him no longer excited you?

The falsehood of those sentences brought a smile to your lips. From the first moment you handed him that pen he dropped in Shouyou’s class, to this moment right now, Takasugi was the only man who’d managed to make you feel this way. Happy. Warm. Loved.

His thoughts didn’t differ much from yours, except there was a certain despair behind them. Everything he did, every single action of his that had brought him to stand in front of this mirror, went against the future his heart dreamt. A future without hurt, without conflict, without war. A future with just you, and the graying strands of your hair laced around his fingers.

“What are you all quiet for?” He asked, growing self conscious of his unspeakable desires.

“No reason. I just never thought I’d get myself another gift from Santa in this lifetime.”

Your blatant lie made his eye roll, and his arms let go. He acted as if he were offended, though ultimately he felt relieved the conversation ended there.

Before his embrace completely loosened, you caught his hands in yours and faced him once more.

You always loved the way his hands felt. They were broad enough for you to comfortably trace every single nick and line that embroidered his palms and fingers. Some, you explored for the very first time, while others, you’d touched numerous times before. They were the hands of a seasoned warrior, be it no less delicate than those of a poet.

“I never blamed you, you know.” Words glazed in a mellow tone. “If I had a chance at a do-over, the only thing I’d change is this. I should have held your hand tighter. Even if nothing changed, I shouldn’t have let go of you first. It doesn’t amount to anything, but I still wanted you to know.

“I love this side of you, Shinsuke. The one that is thoughtful enough to come up with the right things to say. The one that makes up gory Christmas stories with me, and the one that actually believed this ridiculous disguise would work.” You chuckled. “I love all sides of you. I love you.”

Takasugi closed his knuckles around your own, tightly intertwining your fingers together.

“Didn’t realize we were having a love confession contest.”

The corners of his eye curved along with those of his mouth into two separate smiles, both meant for you.

“Very well. I’d hate to concede.”

Still, that was exactly what he did.

He drew you close and pushed his lips against yours, the depth of his grin imprinting itself on your mouth.Whether this was an attempt to claim victory or an impulse that had boiled over, neither of you cared to find out. He wanted you, and you wanted him, and that kiss was enough to affirm both sentiments.

“Would it be rude of me to take it off?” Your tongue shaped the words along his bottom lip.

A look of sheer curiosity shimmered through his eyelashes. Curiosity that turned into amusement the second your hands tore that flimsy Christmas jacket off his shoulders. You smiled coyly and brought both palms up his toned chest, carefully inspecting the latest addition of scars, first with your fingers, and then with your lips.

You counted the slashes. One relatively new at the base of his neck, and another that had faded into a pale line above his heart. You brushed over each, your tongue trailing a calculated path from one point to the other.

The first time you’d jokingly kissed one of his wounds came to mind. It was a teensy paper cut on his index, caused by one of Sakamoto’s letters. He’d seemed so irritated that you grabbed his finger and placed it in your mouth “to make it heal faster”.

However, the reason behind his annoyance wasn’t the scratch, so much as it was his former comrade’s incompetence, and your gesture had simply fanned the flames, coloring his face an unnatural shade of bright red.

The Takasugi before you seemed to have outgrown the shyness of his teenage counterpart. Only the rapid drumming of his heart betrayed how he felt, his anticipation growing the lower you drifted upon his skin.

Your lips fluttered a series of soft little jabs across his abdomen, following one mark after the other, until you were lowered to your knees, your hands meekly seeking support against his hips.

“How’s that for a love confession?” You teased, purposely breathing onto the growing bulge in his pants. “Are you moved by any chance?”

Takasugi tilted his head leisurely, the sole sort of answer that came from him being an enigmatic smile that could mean just about anything in the world.

Eager for definitive answers, you hooked your fingers around the elastic of his pants and pulled them enough to reveal the few unkempt hair he had down there. You leaned closer and planted a long-drawn kiss on his pubic bone, all the while staring deep into his quivering emerald orb.

He murmured a curse and balled his fists by his sides, trying his hardest not to grab your hair and use your mouth however he pleased.

That was the thing about him. He could be stubborn and persistent all he wanted, but patience wasn’t a virtue he necessarily possessed.

Ending his torture, you yanked his pants out of the way and set him free. His cock rose up against your chin, its hardened pinkish tip aching to slip between your lips. You licked them in response and took him in your hand, as a rather odd sentiment crossed your mind.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look Santa in they eye again.”

Before Takasugi could protest, you rounded your lips and sucked his head in, your fist complimenting your gesture with a slow pump.

It’d been so long since you’d last done this. The few and sparse times you’d gotten intimate after giving birth, were mostly rushed and straight to the point. No time for seduction. Just hurried endeavors and more hurried goodbyes. You didn’t even know if you could still be the kind of woman capable of stripping a man and pleasuring him, or if the role of a mother had stolen that for good.

But when you gazed at him and found him looking at you with the same lust and adoration, somehow you felt as if you could still be that kind of woman, at least for him.

You thoroughly wet his shaft all the way down to his balls, your mouth lavishing the areas left unattended by your fingers, until the first creamy beads formed around his head. You let go with a plop, wiping the excess saliva with the back of your hand, and then rose back to your feet.

Takasugi cupped your face and slated his mouth over yours with such force, that you stumbled against the dresser, your fingers hopelessly searching for a grip. His body nullified the void between you, coaxing a small surprised moan as his hard cock poked your clothed entrance.

“You don’t need to look at other men.” He panted, swiping his thumb across your chin to make sure you were listening. “Only me.”

You peered at him through half-lidded eyes and parted lips. This wasn’t jealousy, you realized. This was demand, and this was possession, and this was his way of telling you that he’d never looked at any other woman either. Only you.

“Now,” Takasugi prompted, his heavy whisper landing on the shell of your ear, “unless you want that pretty kimono of yours ripped off,” he nibbled, “take it off.”

Part of you wished to put his warning to the test, but the part of you that was flooding your thighs wanted nothing more than to follow his every word. And so you nodded, unaware of your reddened cheeks and irregular breathing, and led him towards the bed as quickly as your legs allowed.

He took a seat right where you’d found him sitting in prior, the intensity of his stare making you feel just as -if not more- naked than he was. He watched you in a way that felt deeply intimate and sacred, but most definitely restless. Reminiscent of how lovers looked at one another and akin to how a child waited for its gift to unwrap itself.

The first instance of cold made you shiver as you stood in front of him and stripped off your kimono. The silky fabric rolled down each shoulder, cascading past the soft curves and hardened peaks of your breasts. You instinctively squeezed them together, and let them bounce away on their own, just like one of those Yoshiwara women would.

His role was that of a watcher no more. He kept stealing strokes at his cock, steadily pumping his length to the sight of you, while semi-wondering if his too was another of his countless fantasies. And when you bent forward just to drop a peck on his lips, he was almost certain this was purely fictitious.

Unable to control his impulses, Takasugi enclosed your entire body in his arms, his mouth licking, nibbling, and sucking every piece of flesh available. Your fingers wove through his hair, tugging at his dark purple strands in the same desperate manner his hands tugged at your garments.

One at a time, the seemingly endless layers of your obi slipped into a pool beneath your feet, permitting him to ravish each new part revealed to him. Heat spread down your stomach, the nest of butterflies residing within set ablaze by his lips alone, as he kissed over the myriad little silver streaks bestowed to you by childbirth.

He worshiped you in a way he’d never done before. His tongue and teeth spelled sweet nothings across your velvety skin as he languidly traversed the distance between your navel and thighs. His tenderness had you biting back one smile after the other, until said smiles turned into hefty puffs and even heftier moans the moment his mouth reached its final destination.

With his right hand stilling your bum against his face, and his left forcing your knee atop the sheets, he soaked up your juices, his nose nuzzling to your clit with each line he drew between your folds. You brought a hand down his cock and began to rub him, your rhythm inevitably falling out of tempo as his tongue continuously flicked over that one sweet spot that had your hips jerking from sheer pleasure.

You wanted to shake him off and make him stop. You didn’t want to finish separately, so why was it that your grip on his hair kept tightening? Why was it that you now held onto him, not with one hand, but with two, greedily seizing every last bit of ecstasy he offered?

A hearty chuckle reverberated within your core, his movements halting at last.

“She’ll really think we are wrestling.” Takasugi hummed seductively, caressing your inner thigh with the back of his fingers. “So? Are you moved by any chance?”

You didn’t have the mind to answer him. Or rather, all thoughts had dissolved past your blissful state of mind, leaving but a feral sort of desire behind. The kind that made your heart race at his haughty expression and your walls pathetically ache for his cock to slip between.

“I need you.” You breathed. “In me, over me, just…”

Before you had the chance to finish your sentence, Takasugi sunk you onto his lap, his lips sealing your words and replacing them with the shallow tanginess of your essence on his tongue. A muffled moan fleshed out a hoarse grunt, as you tied your legs around his torso, squeezing his shaft tight between your bodies’ heat. He bit down your lip and spread your thighs apart, repeatedly groping and kneading your skin.

Your fingers slipped around his cock and glided it across your folds, thoroughly coating it in your fluids and then jerking it against your clit. A sharp exhale sent his head back, providing the opportunity to cover his jawline in feather-light nibbles and kisses.

The bed creaked as he propped your bodies further against it, his knees tucking underneath your butt and creating a makeshift nest.

You gazed into each other’s eyes, and were surprised to see that the look behind his was the same as it was on that night you reunited. A reflection of his soul that was free of all the darkness and despair. A reflection clear enough for you to see yourself in it.

“Seeing anything you fancy?” He asked, though his question held a different meaning.

“A lot, actually.” You smile, gently brushing over his features.

His skin that was hot to the touch. His well-defined jawline. His lush lips. His slim nose. His right flushed cheek. His left flushed cheek. Even the part of him that was enveloped in soggy white bandages. It pained you that he kept that one hidden, when he looked best in his entirety.

“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” You mumbled, slowly rolling the bandages away from his face and pushing his hair back to get a clearer look. “The prettiest man alive.”

“Originality was never your asset.” Takasugi smirked, shrugging your compliment off, for he could never admit his heart’s flutter.

“Then what is?”

“This.”

His lips swept yours in a fervent kiss, giving you no time to react as he pulled off the hairpin and buried himself deep within your heated core. Chests melting together and hips grinding in tandem, each of you striving to become one with the other. Complete. Whole.

Some of his fingers were tangled through a fistful of hair, while others were trapped between your legs, rubbing languid circles around your clit. He wasn’t even trying to bring you over the edge anymore. He just hoped to make you feel a fraction of how good he felt, eliciting one needy moan after another in the process.

Everything tingled and everything burned, and everything felt so overwhelming that somewhere along the line tears came to sour the sweetness of his mouth. This was exactly what you needed. You didn’t know it to complete your sentence before, but this right here was everything you ever needed.

Him.

Once he realized you were quite literally weeping, Takasugi took your face in his hands and held your forehead against his own, his heavy breath whispering soft “I love you’s” only for you to hear. He repeated the same three words and peppered kisses over your cheeks, gently rocking his hips below yours, until your walls clamped around him, swallowing every last drop of his seed.

Even after all that pent up tension was released, neither pulled away. Instead, you were left embracing one another, feeling the rise and fall of your chests as your hearts continuously beat in and out of sync.

His palms were splayed over your back, while his legs extended past the bed’s boarders. He was still inside you, as painfully hard as he were before, though he hesitated to carry on.

You rolled your hips a tiny bit, and found him rolling back. And then you rolled them some more, and he did the same. And when you bounced up, he grabbed your shoulders and flipped you down below him, a lazy smile drawn across his lips as he aligned himself with your entrance.

“At this rate, a second one might be unavoidable.”

The first thing you felt was the ticklish sensation of hair raining down your face, followed by a shift in the weight of your pillow, and lastly, the unmistakable warmth of a palm cushioning your cheek.

You smiled. You didn’t remember waking up, but then again, you couldn’t remember falling asleep either. Your body’s final recollection was that of his and the endless ways he’d made you shudder and quiver.

It was a long night.

“Mmm, up for another round already?” You stretched your arm over what you thought to be Takasugi’s neck. “Didn’t think you were this insatiable, Shinsuke.”

“What’s insatiable, mommy?” An unexpected voice answered, forcing your eyes to pop right open.

With her head sandwiched between the pillow and your arm, Kimiko came to resemble a puffer fish. You gasped, and immediately you jolted away, wrapping the sheets over your presumable naked body. Except, you weren’t as bare as you thought.

Your kimono was securely tied in place, and the stickiness in your thighs seemed gone without a trace. He must have both dressed and cleaned you up, though you had no memory of either incident occurring. Just how hard did you pass out?

“N-nothing.” You sighed in relief.

“Told you she’s hopeless.” Takasugi announced his presence with a scoff.

He was standing on the other side of the room, one knee raised against the door and two arms crossed over his chest. He’d switched to his regular yukata with the addition of his scarf and haori thrown over his neck and shoulders, respectively. It looked as if he was about to go out, and judging from Kimiko’s attire -a pink fleece coat, a pink fluffy beanie, and a pinker pair of mittens-, the same could be said about her.

“Mommy, can I play with papa outside?” Kimiko sat up on her knees.

“Train.” He corrected.

“Train.” She repeated. “Papa said he’ll take me on a training arc. Can I go? Please, please, please?”

“If you promise to be careful and listen to his every word,” you sighed, “you can. But don’t ruin your clothes, and no being late for lunch either. It’s Christmas!”

“Mhm, mhm!” She nodded, though you doubted any of what you said had registered. “Bye, mommy! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

Kimiko waved you a quick goodbye and ran to Takasugi. She tugged at his sleeve excitedly, only to be dismissed with a mere “Wait for me outside.” In seconds, she was gone, leaving you alone in the room with him.

He pulled himself away from the door and paced towards the bed, while you propped yourself onto your elbows and stressed over mundane things, such as the potential stench of your breath and your unkempt morning appearance. Perhaps you could excuse yourself and go grab a hairbrush, a toothbrush, or something. Or maybe-

He was right. You worried too much.

Without being aware of it, you repeatedly ran your fingers through your hair. He didn’t seem to notice, or rather, he was more preoccupied inspecting the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. A letter from the Kiheitai? A threat from an enemy? You couldn’t discern anything past his furrowed brows, and you didn’t dare to ask until he flipped it around and held it over your head.

“Uncanny.” He said, pointing between the “you” in Kimiko’s drawing and the “you” that was currently gritting her teeth at him.

“Yeah, well, be careful not to get exorcised out there, then!”

He folded the paper back inside his yukata and let a mischievous snicker accompany him on his way to the door. Temporarily, you put your annoyance aside and called out his name, forcing him to glance over his shoulder.

“Did you mean it? About us having a second one, I mean.”

The answer to your question came in the form of a cryptic smile and undecipherable words.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

Takasugi stayed a total of seven days in Edo. During his mornings, he’d train with Kimiko and take her on these field trips that would last for hours and leave her utterly exhausted. On days when the snow was too thick to traverse, they held snowball fights -that they insisted on calling “advanced arctic guerrilla warfare- in the backyard, or settled for playing their infamous “lego wars” in the living room.

At times, you’d join for a more casual board game session, that almost always ended with Takasugi getting irritated over his unlucky dice rolls and Kimiko shamelessly cheering for her victories.

Come evening, he read her stories from the book he’d gotten her, and after all was said and done, he’d lock the door and show you the sincerity of his intentions. He never actually admitted to it, but you could see it in both his eye and the loving way he rested his palm upon your stomach. This was no mistake. He wanted more, and you had no qualms about giving that to him.

The day of his departure came sooner than you’d anticipated. Takechi and Bansai showed up at your door, insisting to escort him back to the ship, but he’d insisted on going solo. And he would have done so if you hadn’t been stubborn enough to tag along.

You walked side by side for what felt like both hours and seconds, until the docks emerged οn the horizon and the bitter time for goodbyes had come. You pressed your fingers against his free hand, his right one busied with gifts you’d gotten for the ones among his crew he deemed family. He stopped and let you lace your fingers with his for one final time.

No words were said, and the two of you went back to idly pacing through the frozen streets, your next pause being right outside his ship. It was dark and no people were there. It was just you and him, and the pale moonlight, just as it was hundreds, if not thousands, of nights ago.

You brought out a small picture of Kimiko and handed it to him so that he wouldn’t forget her face should it take him too long to return. He accepted it and tucked it inside his own pocket. And then he took a thorough look at you from head to toe, gently letting go of your hand.

“There’s a festival later this month.” Takasugi said. “Nothing’s set in stone, but a chance to meet with an informant might arise.”

“And?” You didn’t dare to interpret his words the way you wanted to.

“And that little brat said she hasn’t had Yakisoba in a while. Wouldn’t hurt to share some with her. And with you.”

“How kind of you to include me.” You said jokingly. “I’m sure she’d love that.”

He smiled ever so slightly and searched through his yukata, pulling out the last thing you’d expect him to carry; a small piece of half-plucked mistletoe. “Kimiko gave this to me. I believe you know what it’s for.”

A subtle blush bloomed across your cheeks. “She watches way too many of those tacky Christmas specials.”

“It is tacky, isn’t it.” Takasugi flicked the mistletoe between his fingers, eventually tossing it into the waters ahead. “Besides, I don’t need one to do this.”

His lips crashed into yours as suddenly as the waves beneath crashed into the shore. He kissed you with the entirety of his breath and soul, receiving equal in return. It was a “goodbye,” and it was a “forgive me,” though mostly, it was a “wait for me a little longer, for I cannot wait to have you in my arms again.”

The warmth of a certainty that lingered long after he’d left and his ship had faded into another snowflake among the many dancing through that night.