Someone Like You (Ikemen Sengoku: Keiji - NSFW)

Description: There’s more than one way to get hot and sticky in the dojo.

Warnings:NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised.  SPOILERS for Maeda Keiji’s Main Story in Ikemen Sengoku.  Potential trigger warnings: oral sex on route 69, edging, fingering, sexual intercourse.

Word Count: ~3700 words (~18 mins of shameless smut with a big, brawny Sengoku spear-wielding warrior)

Tall.  

Broad.  

Virile.  

The muscular lines of his back sharply defined, honed by years of hard training and battle.  They rippled beneath flesh, moving in subtle harmony with the motions of his capable hands, set to polishing your spear with a practiced diligence.

A bead of sweat on his skin catches the light of the waning sun, already halfway through its descent in the sky to herald the approach of dusk, the world dyed in a heady kaleidoscope of red, gold and persimmon — the colours of Keiji’s kimono, still draped about the trim taper of his waist.

And you wondered what it would feel like to stand close to him, how he would react to your arms wrapping suddenly around his body.  Wondered what would happen if you gave fingers and hands the freedom to roam, to trace the path of the sweat rolling from collarbone and chest all the way down to the midline of that sculpted abdomen; if goosebumps would trail in the wake of your touch, Keiji’s nipples pulling taut to give him away like the blush he tried to hide anytime you caught him off guard.

You wondered if he ever burned for you like you did for him.

Full story up now on my Pa*t*reon page (please see link in pinned post)! Hope you all enjoy it and happy reading!

Secret Missions and Not so Secret Rendezvous

Written for @scruffymctee based on an idea she had - a spicy Keiji in a secret rendezvous.. Hes on a mission destination unknown but naughty MC knew where he was and decided to appear ‘indiscreetly’ teasing him out of his hiding, 'punishing’ him by being away from her for so long.. Approx. 2300 words. SMUT!

Keiji grinned. The expression felt as fake to him as a courtesan’s blush, but the men at his table didn’t seem to notice. One slapped his back and slurred a compliment. At least, Keiji thought is was a compliment. Hard to tell, as drunk as the man was. He pretended he understood and clapped the man on his shoulder with jovial camaraderie.

Today marked nearly two months of infiltration into this band of ronin. They called themselves The Reaping Moon. Keiji suppressed a shiver as he recalled his initiation into the band. But the intel he’d gathered would make a difference. The merchant raids these men made their living from would stop. The townsfolk they harassed would get some peace. And Keiji could finally go home back to -

“Looks like ya have some deep thoughts.” The ronin’s leader Kizuato eyed him. He wasn’t nearly as drunk as his fellows. He led with a sharp wit, a careful eye, and a damn fast draw.

Keiji laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, yeah. Can’t get this girl out of my head. You know how it is.”

“One that got away? Or a lover?” Kizuato smacked the rear of the girl serving their sake.

“Little of both.” 

“Huh. Well if we head back toward your home town one of these days, we might run across her. What do you say to that, Aka?”

Aka. Keiji hadn’t chosen his nickname with this bandit crew. The ronin chose it for him, because of his hair and clothes. He nodded. “Be great. If I get hold of her this time, I won’t let go.”

Kizuato laughed. The scar that bisected his lips and ruined his nose shone in the low light, drawn taut by his expression. 

“Be right back.” Keiji stood and wandered toward the outdoor toilet. He didn’t want to talk about the chatelaine, even a pretend version of her. He missed her so much that it hurt. A physical ache in his chest that throbbed in time to his heartbeat. Her face haunted him every time he shut his eyes. Her voice followed him in dreams.

This mission had to end soon. Otherwise, he felt he would go crazy with missing her. He kept himself going with promises of what he’d do when he saw her again. Lift her off her feet. Kiss her a thousand times. Taste every bit of her skin. Hold her to him so he could feel her breath, her heartbeat. Make love all day. All week. 

He sighed. She might as well be as distant as the heavy moon that hung full in the sky above him. When he came back inside, there was a group of traveling players filing in from the front entrance. Three men and two women, all dressed in colors more bright and chaotic than his own clothing. The women hid their faces behind fans, laughing and making eyes at the guests as they made their way to a screened area to sit. The men called out to advertise their show on the morrow and did cartwheels and handstands until they were out of sight.

Kizuato watched them with a speculative eye. “How much do you think a group like that brings in?”

“Enough to eat. Maybe enough for an inn sometimes,” Keiji replied with a grimace.

“Huh.” The scarred bandit leader downed his sake and kept staring. 

Keiji nudged him. “You thinking about a career change, boss?”

Kizuato laughed. “Nah. You’d make a pretty dancing made though eh?” He grinned widely. 

“Me? I could try but I don’t have the hips for it.”

The rest of the band guffawed, rude gestures and comments all around. Keiji laughed too. 

“Those girls had nice hips though. A good sway to ‘em.” Kizuato eyed Keiji. “Why don’t you go ask ‘em to dance for us. You say it with that smile and they can’t say no.” His expression left no doubt about his reaction if they did say no. The bandits took what they wanted. Asking was only a bare courtesy.

Keiji stood reluctantly. He didn’t want to involve the players, but refusing could blow his cover. Get him beaten or killed, even if he wasn’t revealed. “Well, a man can ask, right?” He kept the bitter twist from his tone. 

He went up to the edge of the screen and tapped it lightly. One of the men peeked past. “Oh! A fan, are you! Don’t worry little boy, I’ll be signing autographs tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Autographs. Tomorrow.” The man made his mark in the air. “So run along. Tonight is for grown-ups to celebrate.”

“Real funny. Look, my boss over there wants you to come dance for him. He’s not real patient and he doesn’t take rejection well. So how ‘bout you do a little performance rehearsal.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Huh. Let me think about it.” His head disappeared behind the screen and there was a muted whisper of conversation. Keiji tried to eavesdrop but there were too many noisy drunks to hear anything. 

After a moment, the man poked his head out. “We have a condition.”

Keiji felt his brows rise. “Yeah?”

“You have to watch.”

For a moment, Keiji just stared at the man’s face. Was this for real? Where was the catch? What kind of condition was that?! Finally, he shrugged. “Sure.”

“Then we’ll be right over.”

Keiji returned to his table with a nod to the boss. He’d barely sat back down when two of the men came out, slapping a rhythm on their thighs. The women followed, fans still held in front of their faces. They walked to the rhythm, steps as light as petals in the wind. 

The bandits howled their approval, and the other drunks as well. 

The two dancers winked flirtatiously, pretending as if they might show their faces, but as they moved, they kept themselves covered. Their sleeves fluttered and their fans fluttered as they spun and stepped in an unusual dance. It was like nothing Keiji ever saw before. 

There was no harvest dance, no festival, with motions like this. None he ever saw. The movements were raw and sensual, but with a delicacy to them. Kizuato and his men beat their hands in time against the table or clapped or stomped. There was no eye not on the girls.

The two of them began to weave in and out of the audience, grazing touches, dodging grabbing hands with a laugh and a slap of their fans. One of them danced close to Keiji. Close enough that he could smell her light scent, sweet and familiar. 

His eyes went wide.

For a heartbeat, her fan flickered to the side, exposing a face he knew well. A face he loved. 

She giggled before snapping her fan back into place and spinning away from him again. 

“You like that one, eh Aka?” Kizuato noted his expression.

“Yeah I do. That’s the kinda girl you marry.” 

His boss laughed. “You ready to settle down after one saucy wink?”

Keiji grinned. “You didn’t see the look she gave me. That one’s worth all the treasure in the world.” 

Kizuato looked like he had a ready reply, but he never had the chance to say it. The doors at the front and back of the establishment were thrown open. Oda guards burst in, knocking heads as they came on. The bandit leader turned to flee, but he wasn’t fast enough.

The third performer, disguised as a drunk patron, knocked him out cold. Golden eyes winked at Keiji, obscured by a low-brimmed cap.

It took a little while to wrangle everyone, but soon enough the drunks were cleared out and the bandits arrested. When everything was mostly settled, Keiji went looking for the dancing girl. His dancing girl. He found her on an upstairs balcony, sitting on the narrow wooden rail.

“I was wondering if you would make it up here.” She tilted her head, her smile enigmatic, her eyes shadowed pools in the moonlight.

Keiji grinned. “I couldn’t keep my lady waiting.” He swept a ridiculously formal, low bow and then reached for her. He couldn’t wait to bury his face in her hair and feel her skin against him.

She smacked his hand with the hard edge of her fan. 

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“Taking liberties. You can’t just go reaching for a lady like that.” She shook her head.

Keiji pouted. “Liberties? Come on! We’ve slept together. I’ve seen you naked!”

“Months ago. By now, we’re practically strangers.” 

“Strangers?” He raised his eyebrows, a hint of sharpness to his tone.

She nodded. “Oh yes. Months with not a word from you. I had to convince Mitsuhide to tell me what was going on. And then getting Nobunaga’s permission for this … without so much as a letter!” 

Keiji ran a hand through his hair. “Aww come on! I was on a mission. A secret mission! I can’t just -”

“You’re telling me there was no point where you could have dropped a letter to me? Not even when you were sending back reports?”

Well. She had him there. He could have. It’s just … “I didn’t know what to write. That I miss you? Of course I miss you. That I love you? Saying it didn’t seem like enough. I just wanted to keep you here,” he touched his chest, “until I could have you in my arms again.”

Her breath was sharp, as if what he said surprised her. Then a smile slowly turned her lips up at the edges. She slid the fan along his jaw lightly, teasing. “I suppose we could renew our acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance?” Keiji snorted. 

She smacked his cheek lightly. “Liberties again. That mouth will get you in trouble.”

“Lady, this mouth has gotten me in trouble. More than once.” He smirked. “Gotten me out of trouble too.”

His words brought a slight blush to her cheeks but she hid it well. “Then let’s see how well it works this time. Getting you out of instead of into … trouble.” 

Keiji raised an eyebrow. 

She extended her fingers to brush against his lips, like petals, soft as sin. 

He kissed the tips of them one at a time, gently nipping and suckling at her skin. Keiji did not miss the breathy gasp nor the slight tremor that ran through her. He knew she’d missed him too. 

His hungry kisses trailed across her palm and she dropped the fan. He pushed her sleeve up, out of his way. His lips caressed her wrist, the tender skin of her inner arm. Up - until he needed to push the sleeve down to reach the gentle slope of her shoulders. 

There was no hiding her desire now. Each breath was punctuated with a soft, eager moan. Sounds that grew louder as he he reached her collarbone. Her throat. Keiji captured her lips and pulled her to him. 

She tasted like wine, sharp and sweet. Intoxicating. Her sharp little teeth tugged at his lower lip. Her tongue slid along his, a battle to dominate the kiss, a playful back and forth. Her hands pushed aside his clothes. Nails drew little lines down his sides and back. 

Keiji lifted her. She settled against him, legs wrapping around his hips. Her kimono had fallen open, though he couldn’t remember untying the artful knots. Her skin was hot against his. Her soft breasts crushed against his chest. Desire, sharp as a blade, pierced him. 

This room had no futon, no reed mat. He didn’t care. All he needed was her. All he could see, feel, taste … and he wanted more. Keiji pressed her back against a wall, one hand fumbling at the tie on his pants. 

She rolled her hips against him, taunting. 

His pants fell to pool on the floor at his feet. He forgot them the moment they were out of his way. He wanted to be in her so badly it hurt. A fire in his heart, in his head, and his loins. Keiji’s hips rocked forward and up, intent on that one goal.

Laughing, panting, breathily, she arched just out of reach. Letting him graze the silken heat between her legs, no more than that.

Keiji groaned, a shudder running up his spine at even just this light touch. 

She gave a triumphant smile, denying the slight strain of her own desire. A small price to pay to leave him in this desperate straight. Then with a serpentine motion, graceful as a dance, her hips met his, a sinuous, slow joining. 

Agonizing pleasure shot through Keiji as he let her control the moment. Filling herself with him. Trembling in his arms. Then he could take no more of this teasing. 

The thin walls of the inn afforded the lovers no privacy. The sounds of their pleasure brought a knowing smirk to the faces of the captured bandits and the guards that held them. 

Not that Keiji cared. There would be time later for stained cheeks and dirty jokes. For now, he was lost in her. Months of pent up desire drove him to claim her with rough desperation. And she was no delicate flower. Her nails raked his back and her teeth left little bruises on his shoulders and neck. She reached her peak once, twice, again. Keiji wanted more. He wanted to bring her to that crest of bliss at least once for every day apart, he wanted … but his own pleasure was building. Shaking in his thighs, pulsing through his low belly. A rush like the incoming tide. A wave he could not hold back. 

Keiji bit his lip to try to muffle the sound as he found release. Almost a sob, as intense euphoria tore through him. He slid to the floor, pulling her down atop him. 

She laid her head on his chest, idly toying with his nipples as they both trembled from the aftershocks of their love. “Never leave me for so long again,” she whispered. “I can’t take it.”

“Me either,” he managed in reply. This beautiful, fiery, mad woman that was his own. She was part of him and it felt good and right to be here with her. He felt whole again. His arms tightened around her in a silent promise.

Author: @janumun​​​
Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku
Character(s): Kenshin/Reader (Female MC)
Rating: E – Explicit

Warnings:NSFW content, jealousy, re-telling of canon events, denial of romantic feelings/conflicted emotions, oral and vaginal sex, spoilers for Kenshin’s main story (up till Chapter 10)

Prompt: “Mine”
Summary: A council is called, with the attendance of the Oda envoys, Mitsunari and Mitsuhide, to revise and recapitulate the terms of the Uesugi–Oda alliance. Kenshin soon discovers the relationship between the two men and their former ‘Chatelaine’ runs far deeper than one in between mere acquaintances. Glaring truths are about to be spoken and Kenshin learns once more: envy has always stood as his greatest weakness when it comes to her. 

The Main Hall of Kasugayama is alive once more— rowdier even, with the sounds of inebriated merry-making in the wake of a fairly tense Council earlier in the day. One with the attendance of the Oda entourage; a few among them friends she hadn’t seen in a long while. An opportunity for peaceful negotiations, one she had been happy to take advantage of.

She fidgets about in place, restless hands curled around her cup of liquor. Eyes alert and wandering, even as her mouth grazes the cusp of her drink in a show of sipping at the contents.

Kenshin’s eyes stray once more, surely by force of habit, to catch her impatience— odd eyes following her eager gaze as she sits by his side: a pretty ornament, formerly of the Oda, one he seized for himself in a battle not long ago. 

Kenshin frowns. That’s just what she was. A decorative commodity, a Princess of the Oda, Kenshin repeats the words over and over in his head, tossing and turning them about until they refuse to make sense. Unsuccessful efforts in deluding his own heart, a traitorous part of him whispers. He smothers it mercilessly.

She inclines her face towards him then, inquisitive eyes catching his gaze – the mild concern he captures in hersleaving him desiring. Her lips part on the sound of his name, surely in question before the Oda envoy named Ishida impertinently cuts into their space. Nodding amicably to Kenshin once, he turns to address her, “Here you are, princess. It is a relief to see you well.”

Unsavory. Poisonous. The sake burns tasteless down Kenshin’s throat to catch sight of the joy brimming within her gaze at the appearance of the other man who dares his hands forward to grasp hers within, smiling at her with no less amount of care and affection.

“You were just the person I was looking for, Mitsunari. Well, Mitsuhide too. But I must give you these before you depart tomorrow morning.” She hands him one of the furoshiki bundles she’d kept close by her side for the entirety of the evening.

“A gift for you.” Her smile widens at the pleased look that takes Ishida’s face when he unveils his present. “Writing implements! Thank you so very much. I can only hope the fabric we brought you earlier can offer you even a modicum of the joy I feel at your thoughtful gift.”

They speak of the affairs of Azuchi Castle and its town— two people close enough to share a laugh over a drink or two. The stark awareness of her comfort in Mitsunari’s presence scorches bitter ash across his tongue—a feeling he tries and throttles into submission. Failing efforts; until he feels the warmth of her hand across his where it rests clenched – he notices belatedly – on his knee. “Kenshin.”

Nothing sounds better than the syllables of his name on her tongue and he relishes the sound of it. “What is it?”

“I’d like to excuse myself for a while. Mitsunari tells me he hasn’t seen Mitsuhide in a while. I’d like to go search for him, give him his gift before he returns.” The effort it takes to slip his hand away from hers, to not hold on and tell her to stay, right by his side. The last of his iron-clad will hardening, crushing back base impulses before he does something he shall regret. Kenshin watches her leave in silence, the ice in his chest surfacing within odd eyes to leave them devoid of warmth as he swipes the last of his drink. Bidding Mitsunari a swift, curt farewell, Kenshin excuses himself for the night.

The air outside washes pleasant over her cheeks, flushed from sake and happiness as she finally spies the back of familiar robes; silver strands almost luminous under the moon. The man facing away from her as he speaks to one of the Oda retainers; low, indecipherable words exchanged in between the two— ones she fails to hear from where she stands. Hesitance and caution in her steps, she shuffles forward, silent so as not to disturb the men. However— 

Mitsuhide tips his head in her direction. “And what is our dear chatelaine doing out here all by herself? Tired of entertaining the Dragon, I presume?” Dismissing the man she believes is his subordinate, he turns to face her.

She shakes her head, venturing closer. “I was looking for you, Mitsuhide. Why’d you leave the feast midway?”

His gaze – just as discerning as she remembers it – sweeps across her and holds. “And what of you?”

“Irritatingly evasive as always, I see.” Her smiles; of amusement, she lifts the object she carries, up for inspection. “I wanted to hand over your gift.”

“A gift? For me?” Something akin to surprise flickers its way into his voice and she continues, pleased to have caught the man off-guard.

“Yes. I had gifts prepared for everyone at Azuchi once I learned you’d be visiting. I’ve left the rest in Mitsunari’s care and brought yours.”

Slender fingers reach for the offered box, a soft question spilling, as if an afterthought.  “I gather these gifts are your way of announcing your decision? You’ve decided to stick by the God of War.” A lull follows her nod, Mitsuhide choosing to work through the binds of his gift before he abruptly pauses, a smile stretching slow across his face at the revelation. “A salve for cuts,” he muses.

“I wasn’t in Azuchi for long but I did gather you dealt with… questioning our prisoners. I often noticed the nicks on your hands.” Mitsuhide continues to watch her, levity dancing across his features but she continues, unperturbed by that look. “Figured I’d take matters into my own hands and give you something for their well-being since it’s clear you care as much about your body as you do about taking proper meals.”

A soft, sudden sound slices through the quiet of the night; low and sonorous and she recognizes the quality of Mitsuhide’s laughter, broad shoulders shaking with mirth. “Seems as if a certain silly bird is far more aware of her surroundings than initially given credit for.”

She angles a critical glare at the offending man, half of a mind to smack the smile right off that irritating face of his before he stops, his ridiculing fit supposedly having subsided for the time being.

That penetrative gaze finds her once more and stays. Mitsuhide’s voice drops several octaves, softening in a manner she’s never heard from the man, as if in preparation of revealing a heavy secret. “I assume Azuchi will grieve the loss of its Chatelaine for a long time to come.”

She catches those barely tangible threads of mischief in his gaze… but his words, she accepts them for the sincerity she hears in them and smiles. “Thank you, Mitsuhide. For everything. Try not to make things hard on Hideyoshi, alright?”

“Why, you almost sound like the Mother himself, little one.” Tapered digits reach for her face then, as if he means to trace her features. She thinks she catches the streak of something within gold eyes, almost… almost— 

“Continue as you are and I shall cut you down where you stand, Kitsune.”

Concentration shattered, the scent of  cherry blossoms and sake assails her senses before she feels the drape of a familiar arm around her, possessive in its hold as Kenshin catches her back against his chest.

Angling an inquisitive glance his way, she’s rendered speechless at the barely trapped frost that seeks to skewer as if by sheer will, within eyes— sapphire and emerald, edged to a dagger’s point.

The two men continue to stare at each other and she almost holds her breath at the unusual tension that pulls taut within the air. Opening her mouth to intervene in whatever it is she finds herself caught in, before Mitsuhide’s silken tones slice through the tightening pressure. “Ah. I see how it is. How utterly lucky for you, little mouse. It seems as if your favor is returned.”

“And plenty.” He adds, a corner of his mouth pulling into an enigmatic smile to catch the crush of Kenshin’s jaw, the hand he spots trembling to pull his sword free at his hip. Mitsuhide retreats a few stops before inclining his head at Kenshin in farewell. “The hour grows late. We must depart for Azuchi at dawn’s first light, so if you shall excuse me now.”

Affording one last glance her way, Mitsuhide melds one with the shadows; footsteps fading fast into the distance before all that drapes them is heavy silence, settling pregnant with questions unspoken deep within her heart. The steady movements of his firm chest with each breath, deep and reassuring against her back, the rhythm of his heart – she notices belatedly – setting back into rest. And yet, he does not release his hold on her.

A sigh rasps past his lips, scorching hot against her ear lobe, from where his mouth rests close. Always.Close yet not quite touching.

Before she hears the low, sonorous echo of his voice forming words her befuddled mind struggles to string into coherency until it does— “What must I do to make you mine?”

—and blanks.

The tip of her tongue traces the edge of her lips, once, twice in an effort to return much needed moisture. This careful game they’d been playing for the entirety of her stay here, his eyes speaking clear and yet, his feelings still so obscure. His heart hidden from sight, tucked away close where she couldn’t reach, it hurt her every time to have the man she loved pull away from her as if her touch itself were poison or perhaps his.

Kenshin moves away, the warmth of him leaving her back to engulf her hand, far smaller in his grasp as he urges her to her feet. “Come. I shall walk you back to your chambers.”

The warmth of her touch slips away from his grasp; Kenshin turning back to return to his own quarters, far colder for her loss— before those delicate fingers find their way onto his haori. Frail. Breakable.Just as the rest of her. “Kenshin. Won’t you come inside? I have… gifts for you too.”

A foolish decision, his mind derides as he finds himself seated in the comfort of her chambers. A place he too, finds relief in, despite never having stepped through her doors before.

The colorful varied fall of fabric designated to a corner of her room. Books she’d borrowed, perhaps off Sasuke, shelved neatly in place. One of such tomes placed upon her writing desk alongside her sewing implements. Threaded needles spilling from an overturned canister as if their owner had only just left and meant to return soon.

The scent of her as she bustles about the room: the cherries she so loves, and crisp fabric— commingles with an essence that’s just her.

Kenshin finds himself inhaling, slow and deep, as if to savor the scent of her within his lungs— just as she seats herself in front of him. The objects of her quest in hand, she places in between them.

Lifting each curious gift in turn, she begins to speak. “A polish for your blades. I asked Shingen for advice and purchased the most appropriate amalgam for swords in town.”

Her hands flit towards the second canister. “This one’s tea. A herbal concoction to be exact. I’m almost certain I got the proportions right. This should help you sleep easier at night.” She speaks as if she knows of the demons that plague the object of his nightmares. Except that now… instead of a young princess he’d failed to save from the dark gallows once upon a time, the burbling ghosts of his mind reach to tear into her now.

She trails off, even as her fingers reach for the last offering. “And this is—”

“Pickled plums.” Kenshin finishes. A feeling, so intense it almost knocks the breath from his lungs, takes over and sinks as he takes silent stock of her ‘gifts’. Each crafted and procured with careful thought, her desires in doing so almost impossible to ignore.

“Yes,” she nods, face blooming into a smile. “I know you don’t fancy tea much so I’d hoped to balance that bitter gift out by this one. You’ll be able to enjoy your sake with your favorite snack for the next, good while.”

She lifts her face, hope seeping into wide eyes until all Kenshin sees is how it takes her features in entirety. A wish, surely, he is the wrong person to ask for its fulfillment.

“I know these aren’t much but…”

“No.” An obscure emotion had begun to gain meaning once more, ever since her arrival. His heart a thing she seemed to hack the vines off of. A cage that had held it protected for so long. Numbed.

Yet, slow but sure, the chaffs shedding off of the past… useless to leave him unrestrained, it terrifies Kenshin to feel the burgeoning of this nameless bloom he cannot control. Almost as frenzied as the desire to spill blood in battle.

Ire and darkness manifesting in the possession he desires to have of her: mind, body and soul— the Kitsune’s face flashes through his mind then. Deliberate words, his eyes as they had settled upon her and appraised, almost fond. Hands that had reached for her. Hands he’d wanted to slice through for daring to.

A lump makes itself known heavy within his throat. “You are…” Sapphire and emerald; glittering edges as he ventures closer, as if a beast prowling toward the prey. But she does not cower, fragile digits reaching to snag against his clothes just as his catch against her cheeks, palms cupping around to feel their warmth. A deliberate, careful sweep of his thumb across her cheekbone sends the dark fan of her lashes trembling before they fall to shroud her gaze from sight.

Uncertainty knocking distant within his ears, he coaxes her eyes back to his, the frown he feels budding in between his brows, settling chaotic and needy to have her answers. “Why? What is the reason for your kindness? Why do you… ” unsettle my heart as you do?

A hand comes up to splay across his own, emotions he dare not decipher in that gaze, spilling forth on a murmured sound. “You know why… don’t you?”

Consternation deepens its hold across his features before Kenshin rasps out what he knows. What he has known for so long. His surrender leaving him on a wretched breath before he tightens his hold on her. “Push me away, struggle and run away if you must… if you do not want me, tell me now. Or else…”

I would not be able to contain myself once I have you.

I would not be able to let you turn back into the arms of a man you truly desire.

I would ruin us both before I’d ever let go.

Stop me. Despise me.

Her breaths tremble against his lips, the heat of a fire he’s ventured too close to. The slightest of brushes against his mouth as she leans in, flooding open the violent barrage of emotions he can no longer throttle, open mouth and tongue crushing against hers to swallow her staggered moans. Clawing at his shoulders in a bid to pull him closer, her desperation spurs his own vehement desires.

Dragging open the collar of her kimono to trace the rapid flutter of her pulse against a hot tongue, Kenshin’s teeth easily close around the tendon he finds straining against her neck and her head lolls back further in a shuddering whimper to feel the force of his manic desire. Her voice leaving her on a strangled sound of his name, eager fingers thread through his hair to tug and draw him back toward her mouth, open and wanting, unbearably hot; fleshing searing against flesh— the taste of her against his tongue inundating his senses far heavier than any liquor. “I have known what I’ve wanted and for so long. And I… I am afraid.”

Her eyes – hazed over with the burden of her want, brimming along with the love he sees set alight in them – meet his and hold. Her hands, ever so tender, his salve to wounds she uncovers afresh to let him see where he hurt…. and wanted for her— she traces his features as if she finds it a wonder to be holding him as she is now and the thought sends a fresh barrage of needles stinging through his heart. “If I have you now, I won’t ever be able to let go. I’ll restrict you; shackle you down until you’re sick and weary of me. And yet… I cannot make myself let go.” Kenshin moves forward, laying a delicate kiss against her lips.

“Then don’t, Kenshin. I don’t want you to.” His lips trace her features, committing to memory as she speaks. “The man I love cherishes me. I’ve always seen him strive for my comfort and my happiness.” A kiss he places against her brow, subdued tremors taking him at the intensity of his emotions. “You are worth far more than you give yourself credit for. You won’t hurt me, Kenshin.”

“Foolish woman… you don’t know that. You can’t.” A weary smile breaks across his face but it hurts her… he sees how it causes her expression to crumple in on itself. Taking his hand within hers, she guides his palm to rest above her left breast, her heart fluttering rapid beneath the touch of his hand.

Desire so acute, it almost hurts to hold back at the exhorting look she fixes him with, asking him to fall, let go. “This is yours. If you do not trust in my words, let me be here to show you how you honor me. Let me love you Kenshin… please. Let us be in this together. Let me be your support.”

Her arms coming around his back to hold and draw close. Undoing the barely held cascade of hunger and desire: for her heart, her body, all of her in its entirety… until Kenshin’s pressing her back onto the floor, his own form overwhelming her smaller, trembling one. Her chest heaves with her breaths, heavy and rapid as she reaches to pull back the rest of her kimono, finally bared before him.

A dark, foreign growl leaves the confines of his chest as Kenshin drives her legs apart before settling himself at her entrance. “I love you. I want you. Tell me to leave you now if you do not wish for me to go further.” A broad, quick stroke of his tongue against her swollen clit sets her quivering, her thighs tightening their hold against his head.

“I want you to go much, much further. I want you so much it hurts.”

The last of her words heard and acknowledged, Kenshin surrenders to the desire that rages and runs within his very marrow, for this woman as she twists beneath his grasp. Each shallow stroke of his tongue through her folds wrenching sounds from her he swears he shall never tire of. A kiss he places near the junction of her thighs before drawing flesh into his mouth to leave red blooming in its wake.

Her hips, as if of a mind of their own, lift and press against him, her moans and hands desperate as they work to drive him closer and Kenshin’s hands slip beneath her to anchor against his mouth, fingers pulsing into the flesh of her buttocks. Tongue slipping into her depths till she cries out with the intensity of the stimulation. 

Addiction rolls liquid heat in his veins to feel the clench of her deep within, gathering moisture onto an insatiable tongue. Drinking of her until she spills herself sweet against him.

Swiping a careful thumb against his lips before slipping the digit into his mouth, sucking, he gathers himself above her. The hard length of his cock dragging through her folds, coating himself in her essence before he presses in, groaning to feel the give of her wet flesh around him. Sinking deeper until she’s taken all of him up till the hilt. Kenshin reaches to find relief against her neck as he begins to move. Her fluttering walls; exquisite torture to leave him wanting to come undone in moments.  Just as she calls for him on withering cries he sends higher with each harsh swing of his hips against hers.

Over and over, until it feels his own body could mesh with hers, cock leaving the confines of her wet relief only to sink right back and it’s agony;Kenshin reaching to tug a pebbled nipple into his mouth, groaning as he worries gentle teeth against the puckered bed. Frenzied fingers reaching for the bead of pleasure at the apex of her thighs, pressing in to slide them down against the slick, gathering moisture, until he feels for the place he joins her in ecstacy.

Her insides clench around him to keep within her depths every time he withdraws and Kenshin moves to place his lips against her temple – a silent, whispered hope – trailing down toward her neck, lapping at the taste of the woman he knows he could never hope to have enough of.

For fear still held him captive within its jaws, his desire to protect her reigned stronger and as he feels the flood of her warmth, Kenshin, too, spills himself into her, binding her to him, repeating that thought over and over until one day he too finds it true:

She will not share the same fate as Isehime’s. I will protect her. She will not be Isehime.

Thank you all for supporting @dirtydoesgood​! 

Title: Sugar & Spice
Author:@maanawa​
Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku
Character(s): Date Masamune / MC (Female)
Rating: E - Explicit
Warnings: Smut, shenanigans and not much more.

Prompt: “If we get caught, I’m blaming you”
Summary: Who knew that your warlord boyfriend’s shenanigans could be this rewarding?

“If we get caught,” you hissed through gritted teeth, “I’m blaming you.”

“You wouldn’t be the first, lass,” Masamune grinned back towards you, the glint in his eye somehow predatory and mischievous at once. An exasperated sigh was the only response you could muster, as your fiendishly roguish lover reached behind the jars hidden in the kitchen to pull out the bag containing konpeito, the Devil King’s favourite. “Simple, see?” 

“Oh heavens, it’s you,” the tone was somehow one of relief and accusation, as both you and Masmune turned around to see Hideyoshi’s now-familiar silhouette at the doorway. “I thought it was Lord Nobunaga again, trying to get to the kon- hey!”

“Aaaaand - here we go!”  Masamune’s words dissolved into laughter as he grabbed your wrist and bolted out the doorway, skirting around Hideyoshi with unprecedented agility. Your resulting shriek of surprise and following complaints were probably enough to wake up half the castle but with the konpeito clutched tightly in one hand and your hand in his other, Masamune tore through the hallways faster than you could’ve ever imagined and you had no choice whatsoever but to keep up.

It wasn’t until he had brought you along to some sort of half-empty storage room that he let go of your hand. As much as you tried to give him your fiercest glare, catching your breath was a much larger priority and amidst pants, you asked him how the hell he knew about this place.

Masamune shrugged, leaning back against the wall and sliding down to settle comfortably on the floor. Perhaps there was some sort of satisfaction in the fact that even a warlord like him seemed to be slightly out of breath, too. And anyway, it was not difficult to mad at your boyfriend when he was grinning up at you and holding out the konpeito, almost as if you meant the world to him.

With a smile of utter resignation, you took the outstretched candy and sat down beside him, making sure your kimono wasn’t to be caught in anything. To imagine that this wild adventure was a result of your sugarcraving was both ludicrous and heart-warming. It seemed that your slightly crazy but utterly loveable boyfriend would really do anything for you. A smile touched your lips as you felt the sugar melting on your tongue - who would’ve thought you would miss it so much? It was only after you’d finished a small handful that you realised Masamune was still beside you. Turning around, you found him looking at you with a faint smile, head resting on arms that leaned on knees drawn close to him. You felt your cheeks flaring up in embarrassment, something that Masamune probably saw even in the dim moonlight because a chuckle left his lips as he pinched your cheek closest to him.

“Ow, Ma- bwa- ack!” your cries of protest were only met with laughter from the warlord, as he tugged gently. 

“What’re you getting all shy for?” Even if you couldn’t see Masamune, you could feel him grinning at you. Instead of choosing to reply, you held your palm out, precious few konpeito gathered there, to share with your beloved.

Choosing to forego your peace offering, Masamune leaned forward murmuring something about “better taste” and “your lips” - it was all inconsequential when he pressed his lips up against your own. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t startled but, at the same time, you had learnt to always expect the unexpected with the warlord that kept you on your toes, in the best way possible. As your hands wound their way around his neck, the faint sounds of the konpeito falling to the tatami mat could only serve to amplify the fact that there was no one else around - simply you and him. You could feel the way Masamune’s lips curled into a smile, your embrace a symbol of your acquiescence - but it didn’t matter, because submitting to his touch was your favourite defeat anyway. 

Strong arms pulled you onto your boyfriend’s lap, without breaking the kiss. There was a nagging thought at the back of your mind that perhaps the best place to get intimate was, in fact, not an abandoned storeroom but that’s the strange thing about love - some things matter less when you’re in it. Like the location, the fact that the rest of Azuchi castle was probably very much asleep and that Hideyoshi might find you both at any point. The way his hands wandered down to your loosened obi, undoing it with a certain deftness that you had become used to with Masamune - that mattered so much more. Your kisses trailed down his jawline and up to his ear, where you whispered to him just what you wanted from him.

A roll of your hips in conjunction with your words made a soft groan leave Masamune’s lips, allowing a smile to bloom upon yours. Of course, the lingering threat played at the back of your mind but it didn’t matter, not when you saw the desire flash through your lover’s gaze. Fingers trailing down his chest, you made quick work of the knot holding his hakama in place while Masamune took this opportunity to pepper your exposed skin with nips and kisses, his palm snaking under your open kimono to cup your breast, toying with the nipple and eliciting a soft gasp from your lips.

“If…” you paused, momentarily, “if you’re quick, we can get a lot more done back at your place.” The cool breeze you could feel on your exposed shoulders and chest elicited a shiver from you - or was it from the wetness you could feel, as you rolled your hips against those of your boyfriend’s? By now, Masamune had one arm around your waist, holding you close and on his lap, while his other hand moved upwards to tilt your chin down. His finger tracing over your bottom lip, you barely had a moment to react before he used that opportunity to push a long-forgotten konpeito into your mouth. The luxurious way the sugar melted across your tongue, coupled with the way in which your boyfriend’s lips and fingers had you so worked you up felt all too sinful, decadent. “Don’t worry, kitten - as long as you can keep it down, we can do plenty here too.”

Perhaps it was the moment’s distraction but Masamune took this opportunity to lift your hips and guide yourself over him. Without a moment’s hesitation, you slid down, taking in as much of him as  you could, a low groan of satisfaction from Masamune brought a smile to your lips. As you worked your way into finding just the right pace and rhythm, your lover leaned up and takes this opportunity to press another kiss to your lips. This one is more haphazard than the previous ones and you can feel Masamune’s composure slipping like sand through your fingers. Moans and pants from both of you seem to make this space feel hotter than it is and there’s no denying the physical exertion this takes on you - but strangely enough, it adds to the sense of intimacy that is created with heated breaths, fervent touches and the way your hips meet his insistently, feverishly. The remnants of sweetness on your lips and his serves as a reminder of his love for you, you can’t help but cherish konpeito more than before. His fingers coax you faster towards your climax and before you know it, you’re clenching around his length, seeing stars brighter than the Sengoku night sky you can glimpse from the room’s open window. 

Masamune follows soon after you and you break your kiss, choosing to rest your head against the crook of his neck and make a valiant effort to catch your breath. A giggle escapes your lips, before another one follows and he cannot help but join in, delirious exhilaration coursing through both of your veins. The way you can feel his laughter rumble through his chest is, by far, one of your favourite sensations - a feeling that your boyfriend is with you, alive and present - but you do not want to dwell on that now. Not when a konpeito chase has led to storehouse sex. 

“I can’t believe we did that,” you manage to piece together amidst laughter. 
“You know I’d do anything to see you smile, lass,” he replies, pressing a clumsy kiss in your hair. There’s affection, love and so much more unwritten between the lines. Sometimes it feels too much to handle - hells, sometimes Masamune feels too much good to handle but right now, he is the luxury of sugar and spice and you have never felt more in love. 

Thank you for supporting @dirtydoesgood​ in our February charity drive!