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lilac-5ky · 2 years

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Dating Joui-era Takasugi Headcanons

A/N: It’s that time of the year when people want to feel a bit cozy and they write Christmas headcanons and all that jazz. BUT Joui-era Shinsuke is what makes me feel all cozy, and so, instead of Christmas headcanons I’ll opt for this :3 (unless y’all want me to actually write a christmas special with him LMAO sounds wacky af)

Warning: It's late. Idk what I've written. Random delirious thoughts I'm afraid. and also it gets a bit SMUTTY with the details

Let’s start with the period of “crushing” and namely “crushing” from his side. Chances are Takasugi had his eyes on you long before he decided to make a move. Something about being on war, something about being a tsundere, something about knowing that if he shows interest then Gin will DEFINITELY force his way in to get on his nerves; all those reasons were enough to make him reluctant.

He thought that crushes were like the common flu. Terrible at first, but it will go away if you ignore it. Eventually. Some day. Oh well.

Months have gone by and you are still living rent-free in his mind. Even when they are stationed far away, he can’t stop thinking about you and hopes he gets to outlive one more battle, just to see your face again.

He is always on the lookout for news about you. Whenever someone mentions your name, or anything that remotely resembles the first syllable of it, his ears perk up. He wants to know you are safe and doing well, but more importantly, he wants to hear that you are still not involved with anyone and won't be until the day he makes it back. Because, secretly, he hopes that when that day comes, he'll get to make you his.

Once, you sent him a letter. Nothing memorable or grandiose. Just you congratulating him on a victory, wishing a safe return and telling him you'll be waiting to see him soon. He never told you, but he treasured that letter, so much that he carried it inside his vest everywhere he went. The content itself wasn't as important, but the fact that you were thinking about him was all the motivation he needed.

At some point, he might start to write back. He’ll talk about the places they see, the fights they win, the petty arguments between Gintoki and him, how Tatsuma tried to buy out an entire red light district and how Zura rejected the advances of a general’s wife for a widow.

He mostly tries to keep his letters lighthearted, presenting you with the pretty side of things. He keeps the real ugliness of war to himself, and doesn’t really vent about his struggles. All he wants is to be close to you, but not too close as to be vulnerable. Not yet, at least.

I’d imagine him indirectly suggesting that some day you revisit certain places together. It’s more of a promise to himself, than an actual suggestion, hoping that one day he can actually deliver on that.

One would expect that when he finally comes back, he’d start interacting more with you and open up. WRONG. He reverts to his quiet and stoic self, acting as if you are no more than an acquaintance. It’s not that he isn’t interested. He simply prefers to let his eyes do the talking, when in company of the others.

If you catch him looking, he doesn’t immediately look away. He loves watching you and he loves how every time your eyes cross, you seem more flustered than before. The sight alone is enough to make him smile, that soft and nearly innocent smile he reserves for you exclusively.

I actually have this scenario in my head that involves camping around the fire with Joui 4. There’s laughing, there’s drinking and there’s talking, and during the entirety of it, you keep gawking at one another (lowkey eye-fucking one another OOPS) until everyone else falls asleep. When that happens, you sit side by side, Shinsuke adding more wood to the fire while you snuggle up to him, resting your head against his shoulder. A very warm, quiet and intimate moment you share together.

At this point, everyone knows something’s going on between you two, and naturally, they start to mess around by calling you “chibi’s girlfriend”. By “they” I most definitely mean Gintoki, though Zura and Tatsuma make sure to contribute with a chuckle. Shinsuke HATES this kind of jokes and is quick to dispute their claims, which in return leads to them suggesting they should get it on with you instead, considering how you’re single and all.

Gintoki because “How could a shrimp ever please you with his tiny shrimp dick”, Tatsuma because “bRoS beFOrE hOEs” and Katsura because… actually Katsura is the one who’s least likely to say that. Unless you are a widow. (auto correct made it window at first and I died at the idea of being window-sexual)

The jokes soon lose their momentum, and become sort of this daily routine he chooses to ignore. That is when it’s just the four of them. However, if Gintoki dares bring them up in your presence, then Shinsuke loses all self restraint and attempt to murder him by repeatedly stomping on his head, saying something along the lines of “You don’t need to carry an empty shell on your shoulders if you’re never gonna use it”

The only consolation is that you found his reaction so entertaining that you burst into laughter. Not at Gintoki’s attempted murder, but at Shinsuke’s adorable grumpy expressions.

When it’s just the two of you, Shinsuke feels much more at ease. He’ll probably offer to accompany you to places or join in on a task, considering how rare it is to spend some quality time together. Long walks through the woods, hitting up convenience stores miles away from the camp and Gintoki , “accidentally” hitting up all sorts of romantic hidden spots is definitely his thing.

He wants to thoroughly get to know you, and there’s no better way than sharing conversations without any disruptions. You can really talk to him about everything and he’ll listen without complaints, though expect him to tease you at any given time. It’s his way of flirting, and even if he calls you stupid, it’s just a term of endearment to him. When he is alone with you, he gets to forget all about warfare and tactics, becoming just a regular boy courting the girl he likes.

Honestly, even after all that, don’t expect a confession from him. He’ll either force you to say it yourself, or muster up the courage to straight up kiss you when the moment feels right. Going with the first one, he’ll insist to show you his most charming self until you can no longer exist around him without acting like a complete mess. That is when you blurt to him that you can’t wait for this war to be over, which has him all smirking and asking you what for. He really wants to hear you say it.

However, supposing that things don’t really go his way then he’ll be forced to make a move. He’d find an excuse to get you far away from everyone else, and when it’s clear, he’ll lean forward and press his lips against yours. He is not very experienced with romance. Correction: He is not experienced with romance AT ALL. For him to kiss you, it means that he likes you so much that his impulse takes over and he can’t help it anymore.

The kiss itself is forced, but oddly hesitant. It’s as if his eyes seek confirmation in yours, and when your lips answer him back instead, then you know it’s game over. In the blink of an eye, he has you pressed against his body, gloved fingers studying over the details of your face, hoping to somehow imprint the softness of your skin upon his pads. He is firm and intense, but gentle in a way that has you completely melting into his touch. That’s when both of you inaudibly decided that you won’t wait for war to decide your outcome.

Dates with him aren’t exactly dates in the traditional sense. Between relocating, battling and keeping your relationship a secret, he doesn’t have much time to take you out on fancy dates, but you knew that before mixing it up with him. Things will remain unchanged; secret meetups in the dead of night, strolling around stranded beaches and nearby woods, or, if he’s daring enough, his tent. What does change is the quality of said dates. (wink wink)

Like I said, he spends a lot of time away from you. Even when they go to Yoshiwara, he isn’t touching any woman because he can’t think of another woman the way he thinks about you. He wants you and you want him, and it doesn’t take long for things to boil over.

But let’s get more specific. If you find yourselves in the forest by the camp, then he most certainly has you back against a tree, knees around his waist, slowly thrusting into you with a hand over your mouth to muffle all sounds. It’s risky and anyone could spot you, but that’s what makes it even more fun. Sometimes he can’t help but groan against your ear, letting you know just how good you make him feel, right before replacing his hand gets with his lips. Deep kisses turn sloppy in between lovely grins and quiet chuckles, till you both climax as one.

When it’s not for a quickie, and especially for the first time, he’ll make an effort by either bringing you into his tent or taking you to the sea. It’s not so much about the place itself, but about how he’d much rather have you spend the night lying in his arms. It doesn’t matter how bleak and grim reality is. On those nights when the world quiets down, he really feels as if he has a chance of winning. As if by next dawn, the war will come to an end and he won’t ever need to say goodbye to you again.

Lastly, speaking about goodbyes. It becomes a habit between you to make stupid pinky promises about things. It can be something as silly as “I pinky swear to bring you a croquette sandwich tomorrow”, or something as profound as “I pinky swear I’ll come back alive”. He doesn’t want to make promises he can’t honor, but at the same time these promises bring comfort to you both. No matter how silly, a promise is about the future and as long as there is something that binds you to a shared future, then you have nothing to fear.

A/N: Sigh, you can’t tell me that Shinsuke in love isn’t a huge romantic. He might be a bit too cynic and sharp tongued at times, but that doesn’t prevent him from being an actual sweetheart. Plus, back then was when he was happiest. He’d be free to joke around and share a laugh without much guilt, and he’d be far more susceptible to falling in love T-T

#Takasugi Shinsuke #gintama #gintama fanfiction #gintama imagine #shinsuke <3 #gintama oneshot #gintama headcanons #Takasugi Headcanons #joui war Takasugi #joui war Headcanons #takasugi imagine #takasugi fanfiction #takasugi shinsuke x reader #takasugi gintama #takasugi x reader #gintoki x takasugi

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goldenlaquer · 1 year

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How about s/o has been trying to convince him to stop his plans but they took a hit for Takasugi! The injury is severe but it's not fatal! As much as they disagree with him, they still love him dearly. He had trouble staying calm because he already lost his teacher so he doesn't want to lose them too! After they recovered, he promised to abort his plans & be with them! Sorry for making it cliche though XD What do you think about it?

I think that this hits the spot— thank you for responding to the call for angst prompt!

Takasugi Shinsuke Headcanons:

The truth that Takasugi knows: He has no one by his side. There is nothing left to love, Shouyou is gone. Gintoki killed him. Shouyou is gone, and so, the world is ending. The world is ending, and he will make sure of it. Nothing matters. Katsura is gone. Sakamoto is gone. And so is Gintoki. They are gone, they left him. He is alone. There is no one by his side. He is by no one's side. Shouyou's gone. There is nothing left to love, there is no one to love. Not even you. Especially not you.

And so, the world must end.

You don't understand him, this, that burning need in him, the terrible thirst; no matter how many times he had wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed, you just don't understand. You don't understand that he is not by your side. You share his food, his drink, his conversation, his bed. You think you share his heart, but when in reality, that is impossible. You won't understand, you refuse to believe, that you are not by his side, that you won’t eventually leave him. But neither is Bansai. Nor Matako. Nor Henpeita. None of them are actually by his side because he won't let them. He won't let you be there either.

You, who can still smile with your soul. You, who can still look straight at him in the right eye, and then the left socket, and still unwittingly call it beautiful, him beautiful, and mean it. You, who can still see the world as whole, all the good, and the bad— and still, still see it worth something salvaging. You, who has peered into his empty chest, and found something that isn't there— you looked at nothing and still, still found it worth saving.

You don't understand.

You are not stupid, but you are foolish. Foolish enough to follow a man who can't love you back. Foolish to try and convince him that he isn't alone. Foolish to fall in front of Gintoki's sword, arms protectively spread wide, like some badly written hero. Like Shouyou.

But this time, Gintoki is not killing anybody. He reels back with a heavy curse, jerking his sword, but red still erupts. Red blooms on the ground and on your clothes, on his. Red is the color of the world ending. And the world is ending, and he was the reason for it.

Fool, fool, fool.

"Fool," he hisses, hand trembling so bad he can't control it from grasping your soft cheek. Limp in his arms, you're crying. The bitter tears wetting his digging thumb. The way you're looking at him, the terrible crimson soaking your chest, the way you're saying I'm sorry, I'm okay, I'm okay— he realizes that the tears aren't coming from you. It's him.

Fool, fool, fool.

What the truth actually is: Shouyou is gone. Gintoki killed him. Katsura is gone. Sakamoto is gone. And so is Gintoki. They are gone, but they never left him. Shouyou is dead. But he never left him either. He is not alone. He was never alone. Everyone that matters is all there, right by his side. Everything matters. It always did, too much. Everyone is by his side, and he will be besides theirs. He loves them. And you, especially you.

(He tells you so. In that hospital bed. His forehead pressed against yours, his wrappings in the dust bin. All of him for all of you. A promise to last lifetimes.)

The world is not ending, it moves on. And so will he.

Takasugi is one foolish dude, Mr. Know-It-All.

#my 4 for 4 deal is that I get to be cliche too. and greasy. and cringe (winky face kissy face)#gintama #gintama headcanons #gintama imagine #takasugi shinsuke #takasugi shinsuke x reader #takasugi shinsuke headcanon #answered ask #angst #but also healing

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luv-gin · 2 years

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𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆. sakata gintoki + takasugi shinsuke.

r. Hi! may I request for Gintoki (and if possible also Takasugi) making a flower crown with their fem. childhood friend? Thanks! ☺🌺

masterlist.

a/n : in honour of takasugi shinsuke (aka my other husband)’s bday! (it’s his bday still in my timezone)

you stare at the two frowning boys and smile to yourself "oh, come on." you grasp their arms in your hold and lead them outside of the dojo.

"hey, what are you doing?"

"leave me alone."

you ignore their remarks of resistance and continue pulling them until you stop under the shade of a large tree.

"you two need to learn how to get along," the two young boys stare at each other before scoffing and facing opposite directions.

"if you don't I'll get sad with the two of you." a pout forms on your lips and the boys find their eyes involuntarily checking on you.

"pfft, as if i care.” gintoki huffs as he picks his nose and you roll your eyes at him.

“fine. see if i care then, but don’t come crying to me when shoyou sensei scolds you two for fighting,”

“as if, besides he’s the one that cries not me.”

“you’re the once that complains the most, you perm-haired idiot.”

“wanna say that again, lousy rich boy?”

“and she left us.” takasugi turns to his right to find you already seated in side accompanied with the brains of the group.

“it’s your fault.” gintoki says with a slightly smug tone and takasugis face forms into one of utter disbelief.

“are you actually stupid? she left because you’re a condescending prick.”

“take that back you piece of shi-”

“just what are you doing, my adorable students?” the eye-smile given to them by their beloved teacher sent shivers down their spines as they froze mid spot once he caught them in the act.

“nothing sensei.”

“you two getting along now, aren’t you?” they gulp as they quickly place their arms around each others shoulders and give him quick thumbs up along with the fakest smile they could muster as cold sweat formed on their foreheads.

“good, keep it up.” and he left after ruffling their hairs.

“that was close.” gintoki exhaled in relief once the two jumped away from each other in a manner that alluded to the thought that one of them may have been infected with something dangerous and entirely contagious.

the two subconsciously averted their eyes to gaze at a laughing you with a flustered zura and felt frowns form on their faces.

“wanna spar?”

“sure.”

it was the next day and you had still yet to interact with shinsuke and gintoki, and as much as they would hate to admit it out loud, they missed your bubbly energy that was directed towards them along with your affection and attention.

“[name],” you look up to see shinsuke towering over your seated figure and you give him an uninterested hum.

“i’ll put up with the idiot for your sake.” he whispers and you look up at him with stars in yours eyes “really?”

“yes, you’re not that bad to be around and i don’t want you to be mad at me because of the perm-head.”

your little moment of admiration was soon cut short when gintokis voice made itself heard “what are you doing here.”

takasugi kept quiet for your sake as he said he would but you could see the irk mark form on his forehead.

“shut up, gin.” you quiet the boy in an instant as you raise a reprimanding finger at him and start wagging it “you’re not 5 years old so stop acting like you are and get along for the sake of everyone, the bickering gets old.”

gintoki raises an eyebrow at you and takasugi merely smirks from behind you “fine. i’ll be civil.” he eventually agrees with a roll of his eyes.

“good, now come with me,” you drag them with you to the tree once again and force them to sit down.

“now stay seated and don’t fight until i come back.” the two sit with their backs to the trunk of the tree, arms crossed and eyes closed as they enjoy the peace of nature that they’ve yet to fully experience due to their consistent arguments.

“okay, i’m back!” you announce taking a seat in between them and they stare at the object place on your lap.

“what are you doing?” you shush the two as you hand them a few flowers each “pluck out the big leaves and then give them back to me.”

the two boys gave you weird looks but complied nonetheless and the three of you quickly fell into a routine.

after a bit of adjusting here and there, you were finally done creating 2 flower crowns.

“here you go.” you placed each of them on their heads without much protest due to their shocked and flustered states.

“you know, you actually suit these flowers if only you’d keep your mouths shut.”

#gintama #gintama x reader #gintama oneshot #sakata gintoki #sakata gintoki x reader #takasugi shinsuke #takasugi shinsuke x reader #sakata gintoki oneshot #takasugi shinsuke oneshot

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souglias · 2 years

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THE GHOST OF YOU. [Takasugi]

c/w: smoking, mentions of blood, violence, implied possible death

note: self-indulgent fic :"> and heavily inspired by @alatusxiaoo 's doomsday fic (Childe's part). Hi Zaly if you are reading this note please don't be obliged to read it. thank u so much for letting me base my fic off yours.

All likes and reblogs are appreciated

The night is insistent on reminding Takasugi of you today.

He often stares into the night sky from his boat. One leg dangles out onto the deck as he sits on the window ledge of his room. But he is often gazing somewhere beyond the cold jet black canopy.

However, tonight, he has his attention on the large bright moon. His eyes are on the white orb as his gaze follows the trail of the rising smoke from his pipe.

“Shin, look at the moon tonight!”

He feels a hand rest on his shoulder and he jerks his head in that direction. He lets out a dry chuckle because there's no one beside him. For something that should have helped him forget memories, it’s brought the ghost of you to haunt him.

Thinking he's smoked too much for the night, he takes his pipe off his lips. He rests his hand holding it on his lap.

“What do you mean there’s nothing special? It’s huge today!”

Gintoki’s voice echoes in his mind after he hears yours.

“What’s huge? Takasugi’s d-”

“Gin!”

“This is why they chose Takasugi over you, Gintoki.”

“Shut up, Zura!”

“It’s not Zura. It’s Katsura!”

Takasugi closes his eyes to the moon that hangs overhead him. But, the sound of the waves stumbling over each other rings louder in his ears. They are the same waves he hears every night, but it leads his mind to the memory of the last night he had with you.

You had sat with your legs stretched out on the sand, staring into the horizon dimly illuminated by the moon.

The waves clamber over one another and you comment about how you felt like they were all fighting for eternity. Your next line comes out as a timid whisper as if you knew it was only wishful thinking. It almost gets swallowed by the crashing of the waves.

“Just like us. And I wish we could all stop.”

Having sat a little behind you, he saw the moonlight accentuating the curves and lines of your face. A part of him thought he should have said that they would all stop one day. In the end, he hadn't said anything in response.

And he's glad.

Even now, he knows he is far from capable of fulfilling your wish. He’s going to have to keep fighting, destroying until everything is gone. The Amanto had taken you away and unless he sees you again, you’re dead to him. It's one less reason to let this rotten nation be.

Bringing his pipe up to his lips for one last puff, he feels your body against his arm. He looks in your direction with half-lidded eyes. You hug his arm close to your body and your head leans on his shoulder. As gently as he could, he tugs you closer to him.

You stir in your sleep and open one eye to look up at him. A playful smile tugs at your lips. Your hand reaches up towards his bandaged eye.

“No matter what, I love you.”

He blinks and you’re gone.

This time, he grips his pipe in between two fingers as he pulls it out. He clenches his fist slightly, squeezing the pipe between his joints. Once he annihilates this world, he thinks he could carve out a blood-stained moon from the sky.

And no matter what it takes, he’d ram his way to heaven to give it to you before he goes to hell.

#takasugi x reader #takasugi shinsuke x reader #takasugi shinsuke imagines #takasugi shinsuke #gintama takasugi #gintama x reader #gintama writing #gintama #souglia.s #praying he is not out of character gAH

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pfpanimes · 10 months

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⌕ HAPPY B-DAY TAKASUGI!

like or reblog if you save/use.

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sugisyakult · 10 months

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A Date With Shinsuke

A/N: this is my very first fic, so please go easy on me! thank you to @lilac-5ky for helping me with some ideas and for giving me your honest opinion! i don't really have anything else to say except the lack of shinsuke fics is criminal!!

The warm air floating in through the window let you know it was a spring morning and you woke up to the lapping of the waves against the Kiheitai ship. You knew you were in Edo, for one reason or another. Probably so the infamous Takasugi Shinsuke could have a meeting with some high ranking official about supporting your cause. The Takasugi Shinsuke just so also happened to be your boyfriend. Although, what he meant to you could never fit that word.

You wish the man would take a break from his hellbent ideas on revenge and just take a relaxing day to do something fun.

When you awoke you already knew Shinsuke would be gone. He was always gone in the mornings because he was such an early riser, instilled in him from his Shoka Sonjuku days. You were the only one who he entrusted his past to and how he felt about his late mentor, Yoshida Shouyou.

You slowly made your way out of bed to get ready and find Shinsuke. He was probably still in a meeting with the other Kiheitai members, so there was no rush. You put on your favorite kimono that he bought you for your first birthday spent together. It was red with golden cherry blossoms cascading down it. Shinsuke always told you that you looked good in red and he would never admit it to anyone else, but when you wore the color it drove him wild. You pinned half of your hair back with a hairpin that he also bought for you and put your black boots on.

Making your way out into the main hall of the ship, you ran into Bansai leaving the meeting.

“Hey Bansai, where’s Shinsuke?”

“Looking over some papers, I daresay.”

“Of course he is. Thanks!”

Bansai waved you off as you made your way to Shinsuke’s room.

You opened the door and immediately made your way over to where he was sitting at his desk. Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you whispered in his ear, “There’s my hard worker.”

Shinsuke was used to your little antics so he just rolled his eyes, a little smile creeping onto his face.

“There’s my lovely, yet bothersome Y/N.”

“Hey! I’m not bothersome, you just work too much.” You retorted back at him.

He just hummed in return, not once looking up from his papers. Although, maybe it was better that way because then he wouldn’t see the look on your face currently. Shinsuke always told you, you had this certain look on your face when you were getting ready to ask a question, but were ultimately scared to.

You needed a little bit of time to steel yourself before asking him if he wanted to attend Hanami that night — celebrating the beginning of the cherry tree season below a sky of vivid pink; who wouldn’t want that? But looking at the man in front of you, you already had your answer. You very well couldn’t ask Shinsuke if he was looking right at you, so it was better this way.

“Soooo.. I was thinking…”

“Lets see, you’re wearing your favorite kimono that I bought you for your birthday and it has cherry blossoms on it. It also happens to be the start of spring, which also happens to be the time when the cherry blossom trees are in bloom. I’m assuming this is your way of asking me if we can attend Hanami?”

Damn, Shinsuke knew you way too well for your liking sometimes.

Before he could start spouting off the many reasons as to why he couldn’t go or shouldn’t go, you cut him off.

“I know, I know. What if the people see you? What if the Shinsengumi find you? I get it, I do. But, I want you to have fun and take a break! We never go out anymore and I miss that. We’ll be careful. Please.”

Shinsuke heaves out a sigh and turns around in his chair to face you, your puppy dog eyes and pouted lip at the ready. As soon as he took you in, he let out a little laugh.

“I hate how you think giving me that look will work every time, but..” He drags his hands down his face in exhaustion.

“Buuuuut?”

“But it does.”

“So.. we’re going then?” Hope sparkles in your eyes as you sit down beside him on the floor, head resting comfortably on his lap.

With a smirk on his face and his green eye boring into you from above, “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

The cool night air of the spring season bats against your bare legs as you walk along the streets of Edo, with Shinsuke following close beside you. He donned a sedge hat and a plain haori over his otherwise noticeable yukata. The streets are aligned with multiple vendors selling their wares, string lights hung, and of course the cherry blossoms in full bloom. Groups of people shuffle by the two of you as you make your way smoothly through the bustle. Each vendor pulls you in with something that you find interesting. The many smells of different foods floods your senses as you go from vendor to vendor.

Shinsuke stops beside you at a vendor, his breath fanning against your neck as he whispers, “You had to pick the most popular Hanami spot, didn’t you?”

“It was close by, and that way, if we need to make a run for it, we’re not far from the ship.”

He sighs in agitation as someone accidentally bumps into him. You can clearly see his annoyance and let out a little giggle.

“Shinsuke… its fine, I promise. Just take a deep breath and try to enjoy yourself.”

“Enjoy myself? I am a wanted terrorist, you know?”

You turn away from him with a small smile on your face to receive the food and drinks that you ordered for the two of you. Struggling to hold both of your items, he gives in and helps you carry them. Walking side by side again you make your way through the crowd to find a spot to sit underneath the cherry blossoms. You find a secluded spot away from most of the other people and sit down underneath the shade.

Shinsuke stops a few feet away from you, “I’ll be right back.”

You look up at him with worry and curiousness in your eyes.

“Is everything okay?”

“I just remembered something that I forgot about.”

You side eye him as he starts to make the trek back to the vendors. What could he possibly be doing? He wouldn’t just leave you here by yourself to enjoy the cherry blossoms because he is afraid of getting caught, would he? Of course he wouldn’t and you knew better than that! Shinsuke is not the type to do that and he always longs to be by your side, the way you always long to be beside his. So what exactly was he doing? All you could do was wait for him to come back.

The food you bought for yourself is nothing but trash now. Fireflies lazily flit around your vision as you stare aimlessly into the distance still waiting for Shinsuke to make his return. Its only been fifteen minutes at most, but it feels like an eternity. Your hazy vision slips over couples sharing loving whispers and soft smiles. Being alone makes your mind start to wander and you start to think about what it would be like if Shinsuke wasn’t a wanted terrorist. What it would be like if you two were just another normal couple able to bask in the daylight without potentially getting thrown in jail. Without having to hide in back alleys and making runs for it.

Your ears perk up at one of the sickeningly loving couples making their loud laughter known. You start to think about the very first time you’ve ever heard Shinsuke genuinely laugh like that and softly smile. The way his right eye squeezed shut, crinkles forming in the crease, his pure white teeth showing, cheeks flushed with a bright shade of pink. Your earlier thought of being a normal couple fades when you realize that you don’t want or need anyone but Shinsuke. That’s enough for you. He’s enough for you. You wouldn’t trade all of the close calls that you’ve faced together for anything in the world.

Light footsteps are picked up by your hearing and you know its Shinsuke. A warm, loving smile stretches your lips wide as you know his every move, every sound.

“Welcome back.”

A faint blush is detectable and he grows somewhat shy.

“Sorry I took so long, I didn’t anticipate it.”

Sitting down gently beside you, its obvious that he is hiding something behind his back. He takes a quick sip of the sake thats sitting precariously on the ground. Face still flushed he pushes a small black box towards you, “Here.”

“W-what’s this?” Eyes widening in semi shock, you poise your fingers to take the top off.

The lid being fully removed, you find whatever is in the box is carefully protected inside of pretty pink tissue paper. Cherry blossom pink. Fingers move nimbly to reach the contents hidden inside. Out of the corner of your eye, Shinsuke eyes you albeit anxiously. The soft pads of your fingers reach a beautifully crafted kanzashi and you let out a soft gasp. The color is a light red, bordering on pink. Gently removing it from the box and holding it delicately in your hands, you realize there is a string of cherry blossoms hanging from a golden pin. There are golden accents throughout the kanzashi, from the pin down to the string that holds the cherry blossom flowers together. You can’t stop staring at the absolutely exquisite gift in your hands. Looking over at Shinsuke in awe and wonder, you try to speak a coherent sentence.

“Sh-Shinsuke… this is so beautiful! What.. why…?”

You’re so flustered and touched by the gift that droplets of water form in the corners of your eyes.

Shinsuke scoots closer and gently leans into you, a loving smile on his soft lips.

“I wanted you to remember this night. I wanted to get you something that you’d have to cherish from this night forever.”

Your eyes shoot up to look into his green orb, “Oh…you didn’t.. you didn’t have to, really.”

He shrugs in amusement, “I wanted to.” He tries to hide the soft shade of pink that starts to grace his cheeks as he looks away from you, taking the kanzashi out of your hands and whispers, “turn around.” You do as you’re told, turning around with a smile as you feel Shinsuke’s fingers nimbly fix the kanzashi in your hair. Taking your face gently in his hands and putting a finger under your chin to tilt your head up to look at him, he smiles.

“Beautiful…”

The chill spring air of the night helps cool your heated cheeks down. Hands fumbling for his own, you move closer to him and he places a piece of your hair behind your ear.

You gather yourself and take a deep sigh, “I truly don’t know what to say.. I love it!”

Shinsuke continues to gently play with your hair while staring into your eyes.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

Shinsuke has almost never been one for public displays of affection, so you’re a bit taken aback when he passionately kisses you in front of the people gathered near you. You doubt they’re paying much attention, but your cheeks flame up just the same; the way his soft lips caress yours, your tongues dancing together. You can hear his breathing get heavier as he places his hand on your cheek to pull you in closer.

Breaking away, having a goofy smile on your face, “You kissed me..”

Shinsuke rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Yes.”

“In public!”

“Don’t go making a big deal out of it because its not going to be an all the time thing.”

You fling your arms around his neck as you give him a warm embrace. Placing your lips beside his ear you whisper softly, “Its okay, I like keeping our intimate moments between the two of us, anyway… it makes them more special.” You place a quick peck on his cheek before leaning back to look at him.

“I love you.”

Shinsuke doesn’t return it but you don’t need to hear him say it to know he feels the same about you. His actions make that clear enough as he smiles at you and pulls you into his side. His arms snake around your waist as he rests his chin gently atop your head.

“Happy Hanami..” Shinsuke whispers just loud enough for you to hear him as you both watch the cherry blossoms fall and welcome in spring and it’s new beginnings.

A/N: i hope you guys liked it! let me know what you think! okay, i’m a little embarrassed now so i’m dipping, bye!

credit for dividers: @benkeibear

#takasugi shinsuke imagine #takasugi shinsuke fanfiction #takasugi x reader #gintama #gintama imagine #gintama fanfiction #gintama x reader

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ginsakatoki · 2 years

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hello! could you write headcanons for takasugi who's in love with a female samurai who happens to be katsura's little sister ? (she also loves him)

hope your blog will be successful :)

Thank you so much! Sorry for being late, I’ve been a bit busy. This request was adorable but I’m afraid I might have shifted my focus on “protective brother” Katsura instead than Takasugi’s feelings. I also apologize, this isn’t my best work. Writing Takasugi is extremely difficult. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

When you told your brother Katsura that you wanted to become a samurai he was outraged. Not really because you’re a woman but because he wanted to protect you. You’re one of the most important people in his life and his only family left so, obviously, he didn’t want you to get hurt.

He had to change his mind when he saw how stubbornly dedicated you were and at the end of the day he couldn’t help but admit that you were a better samurai than many others, both for your sword skills and moral code.

You met the other members of the Joui 4 when you were fighting the Amanto and Gintoki and Sakamoto mistook you for Katsura.

"Oi Zura, on your left!" warned Gintoki “That’s not like you Zura, since when are you this distracted?” said Sakamoto with his obnoxious laugh.

You can imagine their surprise when Katsura popped out of nowhere to slash some Amanto that were going to attack them.

Sakamoto and Gintoki stared at the two of you like lost puppies.

Oi, Kintoki. Why are there two Zuras?

You obviously waited until the end of the fight to explain them that you were his sister and not some twisted clone. That’s when you met Takasugi. He heard all the ruckus and approached his group of misfit friends to understand what was going on.

He was very surprised to learn that you were Katsura’s sister. While you two looked similar, your personalities seemed very different: you were calmer and more serious than Katsura and weren’t nearly as chaotic as he could be.

You bonded over being the quiet ones in a group of loud people.

You were always together, even in battle. It was like you two were in your own world covering each other’s back like a twisted dance of blood and ashes.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t get along with the other Joui, you were actually everyone’s little sister.

If the first time you met Gintoki and Sakamoto they mistook you for Katsura, with time they started mistaking your brother for you which caused some pretty funny misunderstandings.

Y/N on your back!

I’m not Y/N, I’m Katsura!

One time, however, they went to tease you about your crush for Takasugi (they might look stupid, but they can be surprisingly sharp when they want to) only to find out they were speaking with Katsura.

Well, well Y/N-chan… where is your beloved Takasugi?

Yeah, when are you going to confess your undying eternal love for him?

Katsura had no idea you had those kind of feelings for his comrade so when he found out, he freaked out. Bad. How could he not understand it sooner?

For a long time, he started following you and Takasugi around to see if what his friends said was true.

It was.

He noticed the way you looked at Takasugi but, also, the way he looked at you. Katsura knew Takasugi was a cold man, ruthless even, yet he couldn’t deny that the man cared about you. He noticed that his brother in arms’ eyes weren’t as sharp and menacing when he was around you, that he was unusually gentle and caring.

He tortured himself for a while, unsure what to do, until one day he couldn’t do it anymore So, much to your displeasure and embarassment, he acted.

Takasugi! I will not tolerate this anymore. You cannot see my sister anymore unless you take her as a bride. You have no idea how painful it is to see you two pine for each other like this, I want grandkids!

Katsura… You’re my brother not my father, you can’t have grandkids from me.

Then I want to be an aunt or an uncle!

At that very moment you didn’t know whether you wanted to kill your brother or yourself, but when Takasugi replied you were quite happy he spoke up.

I think I’ll hold you to that, Katsura.

#gintama #sakata gintoki #sakamoto tatsuma #sakamoto gintama #takasugi shinsuke #takasugi x reader #gintoki sakata #kotaro katsura #zura ja nai katsura da #gintama headcanons #gintama headcanon #gin writes #Gin answers #answered #requested #anon request #reader insert #reader interactive #reader request

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sparks-joy-imagines · 2 years

Note

Hi! Could you write about how Takasugi, Katsura and Sougo would confess their feelings to someone? Can be in a non direct way too just really curious to see how they’d express their love for someone.

hi anon, thanks for your request! (Sorry for not being active for a while!) -niob

Takasugi:

he is in denial that he has developed feelings for you for a while and then a while longer

he is neither good at articulating his feelings properly nor at showing them with gestures

he may try to tell you how he feels in a roundabout way or metaphor but ends up saying “you should know how I feel about you” half annoyed, half flustered if you don't get it

he’ll get annoyed if you still don't get what he means or if you persist on him saying it properly

sometimes the looks he gives you expose his feelings for you but you'll never see it because he only looks at you this way when you are busy with something else and pay him no mind

Katsura:

for some reason he is always close to you, pops up out of nowhere randomly and you never know where he comes from

he is always there when you need his help and always there to get on your nerves when you absolutely don’t need it

Katsura does not even know himself why he ends up around you so damn often

he does not show his feelings for you purposely but the signs are just obvious at some point

he takes interest in your hobbies, work, your favourite food and just everything related to you

Okita:

he is like a child, has no idea how to properly express his feelings, or maybe he does but his pride won’t let him

he annoys you to death, whenever he sees a chance to get on your nerves, or embarrass you (especially in public) he takes the chance without hesitation

unfortunately, he is not good at knowing when to stop, and he’ll reach the point where he does hurt your feelings and it makes him feel utterly sorry, but a genuine apology is also not something he can muster

after you seemed to have recovered from his bullying, he starts again

giving you a pretty collar with a matching leash and asking you to be his pet is the closest you’ll get to a confession

#gintama #takasugi shinsuke #katsura kotarou #okita sougo #takasugi x reader #katsura x reader #okita x reader #gintama x reader #gintama headcanons #headcanons #text #gintama requests are open #niob

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kuromitos · 2 years

Text

Imagine with me....

It's your day off from work and you're hanging out with your friends, just having fun. You were asked what you did before meeting up and you said shopping which made you bring up this perfume shop you visited.

You didn't buy anything but you caught a whiff of this really good men's cologne that just got. You couldn't describe the smell but it was amazing scent that made you swoon. While talking about it, you jokingly said this

'If I had a boyfriend and he wore that cologne, I would jump him right then and there!'

Everyone was laughing at the jokes and didn't think to much of it. You were just kidding, nobody was taking you seriously, right?

That is until the next day at work...

Gintoki Sakata

You were serving customers their food at the bar tonight instead of the usual serving drinks from behind the counter. Boss said it something about 'special service'. You were getting closer (physically) than before which you hate since it's only gross drunk men that smell like booze and sadness.

Hearing the bell above the door, signaling new customers, you lift your head to give the typical happy 'Welcome' greeting to them. Hearing a deep lazy voice answer back made you know that Sakata has returned for his usual order of red beans over rice and cold beer.

You get his order and walk to his table ,when put everything down in front of him, you catch a good whiff of him.

Sweet scent of strawberries with a hint of... that cologne from the other day?

No way. Can't be. But you remember that scent.

'You got some new cologne? Smells good. '

'No. Just a sample. Lady sprayed me before coming here.'

His eyes turned towards you in a certain way that makes your body shiver slightly.

'Said it makes women jump me on the spot. You think she was right?'

[Scenario works for Takasugi and Sakamoto aswell.]

Toshirou Hijikata

It's was pretty hectic day at the host club you worked at and it was because of one reason and one reason only.

Shinsengumi visit. Which means everyone are trying their best to gain the attention of these handsome officers. And by that you mean mainly Okita Sougo and Hijikata Toshirou.

Since Okita didn't come their sights were set on the demon vice chief but he decided to be entertained by you and you only. Which set everyone sights on you but there's some bad intentions in those stares.

The jealous glares was just the tip of this awkward moment since the vice chief wasn't a big talker which leads to alot of random pauses in the conversation.

'Work must of been pretty busy for you, Hijikata-san?'

'Not more than usual'

'I mean being the vice chief is a demanding position but only the best for job.'

'Hmmm.'

With one word responses and his stoic attitude, you wanted to trade with anyone here but you didn't want to be rude and you can't deny it but you're curious about why he chose you.

When you were about to ask him, he start to get closer to you and turns towards you. 'Can I ask you something personal?'

'But of course'

'Do you like men who wear cologne?' Huh? Cologne?

'As much as the next girl'

You noticed his face was heating up after you answered that question aswell his cup of Dom Perignon was empty. Being the good hostess you are, you fill it back up

But being near him, you get a good whiff of him. Nicotine and mayonnaise. There's an another scent mixed in. The cologne from yesterday?

'I heard women like men better if they're wearing cologne. I bought some and decided to wear it.' His face was bright red and turned down but he looked up at you with a nervous look in his eyes.

'Do you happen to like it?'

【Scenario works for Katsura,Kondo and Okita aswell】

---

A new scenario format! What do you guys think? I actually like this since it can be short and sweet but still gives enough to enjoy. I plan to do more like this. So I hope you guys like it.

P.s. My ask box will close soon for reasons so if have a request don't be afraid to send anything.

#anime #gintama #sakata gintoki #hijikata toushirou #sakata gintoki x reader #hijikata toshiro x reader #kondo isao #okita sougo #sakamoto tatsuma #gintama imagine #gintama scenarios #takasugi shinsuke

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thithesandofferings · 2 years

Text

::Title:: “The enemy of my enemy is my friend”

::Pairing:: Gintoki x Reader x Takasugi Shinsuke:

::Synopsis::“The only way we’ll get rid of this feud is if we fuck her to see whos better” When Gin decides to bring you to his rivals property- you don’t expect that its you who’ll be the middle man. It doesn’t seem like its your choice either.

::Tags:: Threesome, Dub con, Daddy Kink, Master Kink, Overstimulation, Dirty talk, Fuck you until you pass out, Somno themes because they keep going. Aftercare

Kinktober Masterlist

"Arent you gonna show 'Master' how your mouth works?" You know that Gintoki is being a vindictive asshole. Especially since you seem to be enjoying yourself so much. He cant find it in him to be the least bit jealous, Takasugi (much as he hates to admit it), is the only he would ever trust with his precious baby. Gintoki also tries to feel like shit, because they've practically used you. Not only to make a bet and stop their rivalry, but come is gaping from every orifice of that pretty body...because theyve used you.

You're practically bone dead with how much they both have equally fucked you. Even down to the 'how many times can they make you come' schpill. But he has to prove a point, so when he grabs your fleshy hips and pulls you back unto his cock, you're barely gasping before Gintoki fucking himself into you. Such an smooth slide, especially when both his and takasugis come is making it so so easy. It makes his cock jerk at the thought of having his enemies come mixing inside with his and yours.

But you dont seem to be responding fast enough for Gintoki, having a hand crash down on your ass- quick and painful, gets your attention and has you whining "Daddy" so fast he almost comes. This isnt about him though, its about ruining takasugis life and making him wish he was Gintoki.

You're so pretty opening up for his long time friend. Doesnt help when takasugi holds you like youre made of glass before you mouth his cock with your tongue. Making sure his length is drenched before he brings your head down to swallow him whole. Takasugi would feel like less of a man if he was worried about you, but he knows you can take it- well you've taken it twice now. And he wants to see you full and sated with both their dicks. He's also trying not to look at Gintoki, he's a little wary that somehow- his enemy will see everything.

Like how much he likes this. Likes you. Doesnt mind the thought of sharing you with Gintoki, of eating out the residue that they left. Cleaning up the mess that he and Gintoki made. Hopes the other doesnt feel how his cock jumps when he moves Takasugi a certain way. manhandling him like he weighs nothing. Adores how you look up at him, grinning and proud when you take him all the way to the base. He knows he's in trouble, but takasugi thinks hes going to ride it out in the disguise of "being enemies".

#I didnt mean to make this lovesick #but here we are #gintama #gintama x reader #sakata gintoki fic #gintoki x reader #takasugi shinsuke x reader #gintoki x takasugi #thithesandofferings

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doki-doki-imagines · 1 year

Note

*slides into your inbox* Greetings. I hope you're having a good time. May I humbly request headcanons for Gintoki, Katsura, Takasugi and Kamui with an introverted S/O? They're usually shy and very quiet, spending their time on drawing or reading, altho they get flustered easily. May I add that they're also very short? (Like, 5'0) if not, no problem! Feel free to ignore this if it's not to your liking. *Slides out*

Strangely nothing came to my mind for Katsura and Kamui (and I always have something for him), so if you want you can resend the requests with them! It may take some time, but I'm sure I'll come up with something!

Gintoki Sakata: -A dream come true, finally a partner that won't ask him to go out -And spend his money -Jk what money, he has no money. -The real deal is when his partner starts to read or draw and their attention isn't 24/24h on him. -Why are you reading alone???? If you really want to read something read Jump with him! -Or for him, Gintoki can be this lazy. -And if they are drawing? A real tease. -"Oh, are you drawing me? While I was asleep? What a creep, but I suppose I am irresistible after all" -They feel like dying because Gintoki was actually right and the sketch was also pretty good. -If they feel too much embarrassed just tell Gintoki that he looks too handsome asleep, when he is unconscious and his mouth is shut, and he will be the one blushing from head to toe. Takasugi Shinsuke: -Obviously he would appreciate an introvert partner, as a fellow one too. -Maybe while they are reading he could play his shamisen. -But will be offended if they are not drawing him! Takasugi knows there is the entire universe if they look outside the window, but his self-esteem would crumble a little. -Please treat him well, baby boi -Also gonna tease them endlessly about their short height, be ready. -But they can give him with a taste of his own medicine, after all he isn't that tall. -"Still drinking Yakult, I see. Too bad I can't see any improvement, meanwhile I learnt to accept myself, maybe you should too?" -Didn't talk to them for 3 days, then fell for the puppy eyes. -Also he can be pretty soft! At times when they read he likes to lay on their laps and maybe also listen to them. -Takasugi's proud also swell up when they listen attentively when he plays his shamisen; the thought of being able to catch his partner attention is a good medicine to his scarred heart.

#gintama imagines #gintama imagine #gintama headcanons #gintama x reader #gintoki sakata #gintoki x reader #takasugi shinsuke #takasugi shinsuke x reader #also ask box is empty again so feel free to send anything in!

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lilac-5ky · 1 year

Text

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.”

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