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honeytae · 3 years

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Champagne and Jenga. Is there a better way to start the new year?

hi, i’m back. i apologize for the little delay for this upload, but after the shitshow that was yesterday afternoon in the US, i just felt like i needed to take a tiny little breather before i could concentrate on getting this posted for you guys. i feel a little calmer now so, 24 hours later, here it is.

now onto the actual intro - this idea is so random, but i just really wanted to do a soft new years eve night in with yoon and i knew that months ago so i’m excited to finally put it out. i hope you all like it <3 tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy genre: fluff word count: 2.0k

The once subtle pitter-patter of your heart seemed to steadily ramp up at the familiar noise sounding from your door, the sequence of knocks belonging to none other than Min Yoongi.

Without even having to peek through the peephole, you knew it was him. You knew by the same signature four bumps of his knuckles against the wood; the typical three and then an extra knock in case you had your headphones in.

You should’ve been embarrassed about the way you nearly tripped over your own foot in your haste to get to the door, but you just couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Instead, you only focused on wrapping your fingers around the knob and yanking the barrier open, feeling your soul warm at the cuddly man revealed to you.

His soft skin glowed underneath the lights in the hallway of your apartment building, sleepy eyes blinking back at you with soft black hair hovering above them, a white mask tucked under his chin, one of his many soft gray crewnecks laid over his chest, and a black overnight bag thrown over his shoulder.

In the middle of your routine process of scanning over his body, your eyes widened at the bottle in his hand, the signature gold foil cluing you into what was inside of it.

“You brought champagne?” You asked excitedly, Yoongi chuckling at your lack of greeting as your eyes dragged up from the bottle to meet his own.

“Good evening.” He returned with a smirk, you rolling your eyes at him before grabbing onto his unoccupied hand, tugging him inside your doorway and wrapping your arms around him in a proper hug hello.

“Hi.” You breathed out into his chest, resting your cheek against his shirt as his hands landed on your back, rubbing his palm up and down your spine as he turned his head to the side, resting his cheek atop your head and breathing out a relaxed exhale.

“Hi.” He breathed, his lips curling into a soft smile at the comforting way you held him, the tension in his muscles easing at your touch.

Pulling away only slightly, you leaned into his pout, Yoongi’s hand raising to support your jaw as his soft lips met yours.

“Thanks for coming.” You smiled, the man raising his eyebrows at you teasingly as his dark brown eyes darted to the bottle in his hand, then back to you.

“Are you talking to me or the champagne?” He asked, raising a doubtful brow at you as you playfully bit your lip in thought.

“The champagne, of course.” You answered, smiling at the reward of one of your boyfriend’s deep chuckles as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Well, let me open it up for you then, angel.”

With a flush of heat to your cheeks at the pet name, you eagerly followed him as he led you into your kitchen, holding the bottle in an angled slant in front of his abdomen as he began peeling the foil off.

You watched in amusement at his concentrated facial features as he gripped the cork in one hand, the bottom of the bottle in the other. Twisting it to shimmy the cork out, a ‘pop’ resounded through the room, a triumphant grin on his face as he managed to successfully pop the champagne with no mishaps.

“Seriously, though, I can’t believe I successfully dragged you out of the studio for New Year’s.” You leaned on your hand as Yoongi poured the alcohol into the tall glasses you’d bought to “feel fancy,” as you had put it in the middle of a store you’d dragged Yoongi into a few months ago.

Yoongi’s smile softened at that, sliding your glass to you and leaning over the counter so that your faces were mere inches apart, elbows pressed to the counter as he cupped his face in his hands.

“I just have a hard time saying no to you, bub.” He shrugged, making you giggle as his hand reached out to grab your wrist, the other retrieving his drink as he began pulling you along with him into the living room, successfully plunking himself down onto your couch.

“Hm,” you squinted at him, “so there wasn’t just the tiniest part of you wanting to come drink champagne with me on the most romantic night of the year?” You asked, crossing your legs as you sat in front of him, knees grazing his as he copied your posture.

His features scrunched in both confusion and disgust at that, eyes squinted at you as you raised your eyebrows challengingly.

“This is the most romantic night of the year? Since when?” He asked doubtfully, you shrugging in response as he gently smiled at you.

“Since now.” You answered, Yoongi scoffing as he reached for your champagne flutes, handing you your own before lifting his into the air. The action prompted you to raise your glass as well, clinking them together as you stared at him knowingly.

The look you were giving him was a silent imploring for him to cave and address the idea in question in his toast.

“Alright, cheers to the most romantic night of the year, or whatever.” He gave in with a small smirk, the expression turning into a full-on grin when you giggled in response before raising your glass to your lips, taking a sip as Yoongi did the same.

“What time is it?” You asked after swallowing the liquid, Yoongi dutifully pulling out his phone to read the time aloud.

“10:45.” He stated, eyebrows raised in question when you smirked at him.

“What?” He inquired, a small smile lifting his lips at the contagious facial expression you wore. He didn’t know what you were smiling about, but, god, he knew he didn’t want you to stop.

“You’re early.” You explained, confusing him even more as his head tipped to the side adorably.

“I didn’t text you to come over until twenty minutes ago.” You smiled wider when Yoongi’s cheeks flushed, leaning forward to press a kiss to each spot beside his nose, him whining in complaint yet holding your jaw there as he leaned up to catch your lips with his.

Based on your calculations, it appeared that your boyfriend had fled the studio immediately upon getting that text from you.

“Aww, you wanted to see me?” You cooed at him, the man blushing immediately, both your tone and your loving gaze making him feel beyond flustered.

“I did, but that was before I knew I’d be getting assaulted when I arrived.” He muttered, his face contradicting his tone as the apples of his cheeks were beginning to hurt with the beam of teeth he was displaying.

“Hm, so you don’t like this?” You asked, cupping his face with your palms, smiling when he leaned into your touch, cheeks hot under your lips as you pressed them against his soft skin.

“Mm-mm.” He hummed negatively, trying to maintain his frown but failing as you kissed the corners of his mouth, pulling away with a grin when his head dipped forward to chase your mouth.

“Gotta stop playing so hard to get, Yoon.” You tutted your tongue at him, his gummy smile spreading wider at your teasing tone.

“Never.” He answered, leaning into you once again to press a soft pucker of his lips to your cupid's bow.

Gently, you swiped the pad of your thumb across his swollen bottom lip in return, his eyes sparkling up at you in the dim light of your living room.

“Well, if it’s almost 11,” you trailed off, Yoongi nodding to confirm the time, “what do you want to do until midnight?”

Yoongi pondered the thought for a moment, eyes traveling up to your ceiling in thought before shifting back down to you.

“Do you still have Jenga?” He asked, making you smile fondly at him as you prepared to stand up.

“I have Jenga.” You nodded in confirmation, both of you smiling as you got up off of the couch and walked to a closet in your hallway, pulling the game down successfully and holding it above your head upon entering the room.

“Are we actually playing Jenga?“ He chuckled when you placed the box down on the coffee table in front of the couch, getting a series of nods from you in response.

“Champagne and Jenga. Is there a better way to start the new year?” You grinned, Yoongi laughing before pulling you onto the couch with him, helping you unwrap the game’s contents and sort the blocks out on the little table.

Jenga had, somehow, become a classic activity throughout your relationship with Yoongi. Both of you were homebodies and both of you were kind of on the geriatric spectrum in terms of how outwardly social you were. It just worked.

“Alright, let’s do this.” You sat beside him again, thigh brushing his as he placed his feet on the floor to face the table.

“You think you can win against me?” He bumped his shoulder against yours, raising his eyebrows in amusement when you scoffed in reply, rolling up the sleeves of your shirt to show you meant business.

“In my sleep, Min.”

Yoongi was smug when it came to competition, yes, but he had good reason to be. Nine times out of ten he’d win the games you’d play together, which was sad but true.

After spending over an hour playing the game, you finally threw in the towel when Yoongi, yet again, built a sturdier tower than yours.

“Fuck, I swear you practice when I’m not around.” You huffed in frustration, the man exhaling a laugh through his nose at your proposition as he leaned back on the couch along with you.

Curiously, you pulled out your phone, bypassing the messages and social media notifications to look at the time displayed at the top of the screen.

“Oh my god.” You gasped as you glanced at the numbers, Yoongi’s eyes widening in curiosity as he studied your facial expression.

“What?” He inquired, you setting your phone down to look back at him with a small grin.

“It’s almost midnight.” You said excitedly, your boyfriend smiling in return as he leaned farther back into the couch with a subtle gesture of his head for you to follow, steadying your body atop his own as you easily straddled his lap.

“I’m excited for the new year.” He squeezed your hips in his palms, scrunching his nose when you booped the tip of it with your finger.

“Are you excited to kiss me at midnight?” You raised your eyebrows, wiggling them suggestively as he chuckled underneath you.

“That’s so cliche.” He dismissed half-heartedly, you smirking in amusement as you clearly understood the underlying feelings he had about the so-called “cliche.”

“I’m into cliches. You’re not into cliches?” You asked teasingly, Yoongi’s scowl twitching into an upward curve at your tone as he cupped your jaw with his hand.

“Meh.” He shrugged, your eyebrows raising in amusement as his face turned to the side, toward the clock whose minute hand was approaching the new hour.

“Meh?” You repeated incredulously, a satisfied simper playing on Yoongi’s lips as he had achieved his goal of getting a rouse out of you.

“What about that time you sent me flowers on Valentine’s Day? The time you kissed me at the top of that Ferris wheel? When you insisted on holding hands on the ice skating rink despite us both being entirely capable? Or that time you-hmmf“

You were cut off by Yoongi suddenly pushing his lips to yours, his warm hands supporting your jaw and cementing you to him as you hummed at the sudden contact from his warm lips.

Your arms seemed to awkwardly flail at the unexpected action, quickly regaining control of yourself and wrapping your limbs around his neck as you moved in closer to him.

The kiss was close-mouthed, soft and sweet. The adoring action of his lips caressing yours had you smiling instantly, the feeling of Yoongi’s mirroring yours making you lightly chuckle against him.

“I thought you weren’t into cliches, Yoon.” You arched an eyebrow doubtfully, smirking as the man shrugged with a shy smile.

“Some are better than others.”

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weepywillowsap · 5 years

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Charles blinked as he stepped out from the dark and slightly pungent environment of his laboratory, into the brightly lit road of the street outside. Long rows of fragrant marigolds and oil lamps decorated the houses on all sides. For a second he was stumped till he realised it was the day before Diwali. He stood outside his door for a moment to take in the festive air around him. There were people milling about the streets in high spirits. Loud laughter and the smell of fresh food was wafting around. Charles felt his spirits lift, after a long day of research and frustration, a festival seemed welcome. His stomach growled loudly as he locked up the door for the night. There would be no food at home, perhaps he could convince Warren to go out for dinner with him tonight. Their first outing had seemed promising.

Charles walked down the street taking in the spectacle of light and colour around him. It had only been a few months since he had come to Genosha, and already he could feel its warmth gradually seeping into his bones. He had grown fond of this place, but his purpose here was at its close. Soon it would be time to move on. He tried to tamp down the sudden ache in his chest when he thought about leaving him.

A sudden commotion in the main bazaar in front of him caught his eye. His hands automatically slipped to the daggers he kept hidden in his shirt sleeves. He walked towards the sudden joyous burst of applause and the loud cries that had broken out there. His steps quickened on their own as he realised that the riders had returned. Before he could process it, he slipped the knife back into its holster and mingled with the excited crowd.The tired but triumphant men and women were being accosted by family and friends. There were people rushing about calling the names of their loved ones, they could yet not locate. Charles pushed himself into the crowd, looking around for the familiar face that had settled into an ache in his absence. His height made it difficult to look over the crowd, and he was jostled rudely as he tried to stand on his toes to look around. He could spot Emma and Sean in the distance as they hugged their family. He could see a host of familiar faces as they moved away from the crowd but he could still not spot Erik. He was worried now, surely he had returned. Erik was one of the most capable fighters he knew, surely he would come home. He had promised.

Charles was about about to do something drastic when a hand landed on his shoulder,

“Charles“ Erik’s voice greeted him, “looking for someone?“

Charles jumped in surprise as he turned around. He took a second to take in the smug bastard’s grinning visage before he threw himself on him, hands tightening around his neck, relief making his knees weak.

“Oof“ Erik grunted and Charles loosened his grip to draw back a little and stare at him frowning.

“You are injured“ he said worriedly, as he moved back to take in his friend. One of his arms was tied in a sling, wrapped in a bandage that was by now worn with dirt and blood. Charles stepped forward to examine the limb lightly, frowning at the clumsy dressing of the wound. He would have a word with the medic, he could feel the indignation boiling in him steadily. To be so inept when handed such responsibility. He was interrupted out of his anger by a sudden hand on his shoulder.

“It is nothing“ Erik smiled tiredly at him, “the journey was long and I was careless enough to let a warg get too close to me”

Charles refused to look up at him, he did not do well with reminders of the danger the Riders routinely put themselves in. It was all the more reason that he had to make haste. Not for the first time in the past few weeks he felt the urgency of his task bear down upon him. To calm himself he continued to fuss with his friend’s bandaged hand. Erik was here, warm, real and solid.

Erik cupped his cheek softly with his uninjured hand, “come now, I can feel your vexation from here, it was not Katerina’s fault. She had to stay behind with Azazel’s troops, they had more need of her.“

“The Black Kings continues to send his forces beyond the borders then?“ Charles asked, sighing softly as he leaned into the quiet comfort of the touch.

“Aye, the villages on the borders have been asked to move inwards towards the protected cities“ he replied, removing his hand and rubbing it through his hair, matted with dust from the road.

The war was close then, he would have to send out the messages by tonight. Charles looked could see the tiredness, anger and pain that were lined deeply on Erik’s face. The familiar sharp angles of his features were covered in grime and sweat. The severity of his face was softened only by his eyes, that were looking gently at him. Patient as ever, with Charles and his musings.

“Come my friend“ Charles said, picking up Erik’s satchel bag from where it had fallen on the ground, first things first ,“lets get you home”. He took Erik’s uninjured hand in his and started to tug him towards their home, already cataloguing in his head what he would require to clean up Erik’s wounds and if there was still some food left over from yesterday. He was rudely wrenched out of his thoughts when he was pulled backwards suddenly. Charles turned to Erik with an indignant yelp, ready to berate him for stopping so abruptly, only to be struck mute by the wide smile on his friend’s face. The corners of his were crinkled and his face was filled with such warmth that Charles’s breathe caught in his throat.

“Home?“ Erik asked him grinning.

For a moment Charles could do nothing but stare, he could feel his face heating up distantly. Home, the word tasted foreign on his tongue. He had certainly not thought of Erik’s quarters in the city in these clear terms before. But here he was, eager to reach the quiet safety and seclusion of their shared space. To rest and to be in the warm security of having Erik near and alive and simply to be in that sheer contentedness of companionship that he felt bereft without. Home. Home with Erik. No. What was he thinking. How had he allowed himself to settle in like this? He had become too complacent. He had not come here to fall in...no, he still had his duties that could not afford to suffer because he had found a home. Charles could feel a well of emotions rising up in him, a few which he did not dare to parse. He raised his chin up in the air as answered.

“Yes where else you daft man” he replied, trying to downplay the intent of the question, “I am hardly going to take you to Madame Rosmerta’s when you are like this can I?“

Erik huffed lightly as he took Charles’s hand in his again and started to walk again.

“Fusses more than Emma“ Charles heard him murmur under his breath,

“Hmph, I hope you know the vegetable garden has grown wild in your absence, and the lovely rabbits comes without fail every night to eat up all the moon berries”

“Of course, I know how hard you fight to keep them at bay. Did your lettuce crop not distract them as you hoped?” Erik replied barely able to keep his smile in check.

“Do not mock me Erik, they come in greater numbers every time. I think they are trying to overrun the house.”

“I told you as much when you stared feeding them daily“

“Don’t put this on me, I had never seen one before and they are remarkably fluffy. The look perfectly innocuous.“

“I told you!! You kept dismissing what I said“

“Oh posh, you are hardly a reliable source, you think everything is out to get us“

They continued to argue about trivial things as they made their way home, Charles noted with relief the way Erik’s face seemed to relax more and more as their conversation became more and more inane.

He would let himself be lulled into the familiarity of the moment, but sooner rather than later, he would have to move out of that house. He had tarried here long enough, a deeper attachment would only hinder his cause. He looked at Erik walking behind him, his manner light and engaged as Charles told him about his research in the lab.

This was frivolous, he told his aching heart, a moment’s fantasy, he had felt this before and he would feel it again. He would leave here before the week was done.

#cherik #cherik fanfic #fantasy au #charlesissillyandisgonnabreakerik'sheart #it will all work out tho #really need to work on my writing #Charles Xavier #Erik Lehnsherr #characterization is hard #definitely cherik though

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oshu-garbage · 5 years

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Sparks

Oichi x MC

Word Count: ~1700

Author’s note: I’ve been working on this for so long and have been thinking about it for even longer! As a wlw, I always thought that Oichi would make an incredible, dynamic, and smoldering LI, so I wanted to explore what that would be like. This would absolutely NOT have been possible without @pseudofaux who not only encouraged me to write this fic but was so kind as to offer feedback on it as well. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Lady Oichi had a powerful aura. There was something magnetic about her. Her movements were more graceful than flowing water. Being the humble daughter of a cook, I had never before seen such poise.

Since arriving in Owari, I’d gotten much better at concealing my gawking, but I still found myself mesmerized by her elegance. Furtive glances at banquets or as she wandered through the gardens replaced the open stares that once bored into her. At times though, I’d look too long and find her returning the attention with a conspiratorial grin.

When the truth of my identity came to light, her support was my rock in troubled water. She was my champion and my solace when everything else seemed to hang in the balance.

Each day she spirited me away to spend time with her. Lady Oichi argued that she should learn to be skilled in the kitchen to impress her betrothed, Lord Azai Nagamasa. Given his tendency to indulge his beloved sister and his desire to curry favor with the Azai, Lord Nobunaga acquiesced.

Today began no differently than the rest. I rose before the sun to tend to my duties in the kitchen from breakfast until lunch. As soon the last clean dish had been returned to its home, I made my way across the castle to Lady Oichi’s chambers.

“Good afternoon, Milady,” I called before letting myself through the door. She never truly cared whether I announced myself or not, but I couldn’t bring myself to act quite so informally.

I found her struggling to tie her sleeves back with an ornate cord made of gleaming, spun gold that caught the sunlight with every strained wobble. The sight of her face set so resolutely brought on a giggle I couldn’t quite stifle.

Her eyes lit up and a smile released the tension in her brow. Rather than seeming offended, she regarded me with a gleeful gaze that warmed my heart.

“Allow me to assist you, Milady.” Swift feet made quick work of the distance between us and my practiced hands tied her sleeves back with ease.

“Teach me how to make that European cake again.” She demanded with a playful determination.

As she whirled around to take both my hands in her own, I felt a tug in my chest. Enthusiasm and tenacity glittered in her eyes, leaving me momentarily thunderstruck. There were countless things to admire about her, and finding myself caught in the intensity of her gaze sent my heart aflutter.

“Uh-unfortunately, Milady, you’ve been barred from the pantry until more supplies come into town.” A flush of heat tickled my cheeks and I turned my face to the tatami beneath our feet. I couldn’t stand to be the bearer of news that erased her smile. “After yesterday’s frenzy of trial and error, the cooks worry that another day’s work would part Milord from his sweets.”

Stealing a glance up at her face, I watched as Lady Oichi’s eyes narrowed and her mouth straightened into a firm, discontented line.

“Shall I prepare us tea instead?” I offered. Desperate to remedy the situation, I was already moving toward the door to begin fixing the tea.

Her tightened grip on my hands prevented me from getting far.

“Don’t waste my time with coming and going.” She said sternly. The brusqueness was short-lived- her face brightened dramatically as a thought came to mind. “I’ve received engagement gifts from the Azai. Will you help me try them on?”

“Of course, Milady! If it would please you, I would love nothing more.”

Lady Oichi’s simmering gaze locked on to mine, preparing me to bear the consequence of her sudden vexation.

“Stop calling me that. Call me by my name, as you would any of your other friends. I don’t like placing such distance between us.” The seriousness in her eyes contradicted the exaggerated hurt in her voice.

The relief that had begun to trickle in was swiftly overruled by a wave of dread that crashed over me like frigid water.

This was the first time she’d asked me to call her by name. Wholly unprepared for this turn of events, the request made me wince.

“But you are Milady, Milady.” I rebutted carefully. “Calling you anything less would be disrespectful.”

“Is it not more disrespectful to deny my request?” The glitter of victory in her eyes told me she already knew the answer to that.

Warmth bloomed in the apples of my cheeks. I wasn’t sure I could commit to breaking such a boundary between us, but at her behest, I had to at least try.

“As you wish. . .” I paused, forcefully rounding my mouth to say her name. “Oichi.” It came out a whisper.

Glancing up to meet her triumphant gaze, a glimmer of something more flashed across her elegant features. It was gone before I could identify just what it was, striking my chest with an equally strange pang that lingered.

Lady Oichi took me by the shoulders and led me behind her folding screen. Behind it hid a trove of silk and jewels worth much more than my family’s restaurant.

“Look through this and choose which kimono you would like to try on first. I’ll call for Matsuko and Umeko.” Just as she started to turn back to the door, Lady Oichi paused to spare a longing glance at a deep crimson kimono embroidered with gold and white flowers. “I know which one I would choose.” She posited in a quiet voice.

She was gone before I could ask any further about the situation.

She wants me to put one of these on? Terror rippled through me. Surely she was joking. I had no place wearing any of these kimonos. Just one would cost more than I could save in a lifetime.

Umeko and Matsuko arrived in the midst of my panic. I was unaware of just how paralyzed I was until my head stiffly turned to look at them.

“Don’t look so frightened!” Umeko giggled, reaching out to take my shoulders and shake the stiffness from my body. “If Lady Oichi requested it, there is nothing fear.”

I could only manage a silent nod in reply. If there was anyone to put my trust in, it was Lady Oichi.

“Right,” Matsuko chimed in. “Let’s get you changed then.”

Undressing and dressing happened in a blur. The knowledgeable hands at work left nothing for me to do except cooperate with how they moved my body.

Tugs at my arms, waist, and hair told me they were sparing no effort to make me look worthy of such fine garments.

“Magnificent!” Umeko gasped with clasped hands, admiring her handiwork.

“If you’re ready, then hurry and come out! Don’t keep me waiting!” Eagerness colored Lady Oichi’s voice.

These clothes were much heavier than my own, making my footsteps more cautious than usual. Heat swept across my cheeks as I shuffled from behind the screen. I kept my face to the floor, not wanting to bare the manifestation of my bashfulness for all to see.

“Leave us.” She ordered, breaking the loaded silence before it had settled.

The hurried steps of the maids’ departure and the sound of the shoji sliding shut behind them was all that followed.

My frenzied mind barely registered the fabric staring up at me. It was the crimson kimono Lady Oichi had subtly suggested earlier. She must have seen my panic and told Umeko and Matsuko which one to choose. As usual, she did for me what I couldn’t do for myself.

Such mundane thoughts began to soothe the increasingly frenetic energy inside of me.

Lady Oichi’s gaze bored into the top of my head. Warmth tingled my scalp as though the fire in her eyes had taken life.

“Look up at me. I want to see your face.” Her voice was almost a purr.

Fiery heat ravaged my face. I could only assume a feverish red had replaced what was surely once a gentle pink. Something about her tone sent my heart rate and breathing into disarray. My fists tightened at my sides as I struggled to get my body back in sync.

“Must I grab your face and move it myself?” She asked impatiently, though not without a tinge of amusement.

“No, Milady,” I answered, lifting my face in time with an intentionally deep breath.

“Pardon?” Lady Oichi questioned- a test. Her entire expression smoldered, hedonistic and smug.

“No, Oichi,” My voice trembled, attempting to reject the very words it spoke.

A moment of blatant pleasure flitted across her face. She made it no secret that she enjoyed getting her way. Either awestruck by the situation or hypnotized by her aura, my eyes refused to wander from her form as she approached.

“Much better,” She half whispered, lifting her hand to run the back of her fingers down my cheek, her gaze locked onto me with the intensity of a predator admiring its prey. Somehow, I fought back the shiver begging at my spine.

“You’re even more striking than I imagined in that kimono.” A smirk crawled onto her face. “I don’t think it would be fair of me to deprive the castle of such a view.”

I melted under the heat of her words. Nothing about this was normal, but my trust in her was unfaltering. She lent me the strength and confidence to be as I was, never once leading me wrong. If a woman of such transcendent grace could see beauty in a girl such as myself, I could do nothing but believe her.

Roaring flames crackled in Lady Oichi’s eyes, burning unabashed and undaunted. I could see thoughts forming behind her eyes, each one adding more fuel to the fire.

Be it naïveté or willful ignorance, I saw those flames as something more. She looked at me with a singular passion that ignited a fire in me that I had never known before. It was a burning desire give my Lady all I had and all I may ever be. I knew it would grow to consume me, and deep within, that I wanted it to.

#slpb #samurai love ballad party #slbp fic #slbp oichi #oda oichi #oichi fic #slbp lgbt #slbp wlw #slbp oichi wlw #my writing #sparks #sparks part 1 #oshu-garbage

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