#theeyethatbinds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pseudofaux · 3 years

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Dearest, most wonderful, absolutely breathtaking Pseu- ever since I first ran across your works here (and you gifted me an Ikesen Shingen that STILL flusters me) I have been smitten with your writing. You have an uncanny ability to meld the most heartfelt emotion with the filthiest of actions, and it's constantly devastating, in the best way possible. I'd love to cap things with a spicy sinnamon Ikesen Shingen and his not-so-hidden breeding kink, and I'll see you in your commission forms 😉💞🥰

WHAT. DID I DO. TO BE GOOD ENOUGH TO GET THIS 🔥👑🔥 PROMPT?!?!! Thank you god and theeyethatbinds 😍😍😍 PLEASE ENJOY I know I probably will 😂🙇🏻‍♀️ I don’t even feel like I can talk much here or I will JUST SCREAM but I am truly, truly grateful to this and to you for all of your support and your fun tags and your year-round sweetness, thank you so much! Respectfully, I really hope you will like this!

(Requests are closed, readers, but I have a lot of writing to do and post in July! Please feel free to follow along or just check in and enjoy a few. A masterlist will be posted when they are all completed.)

This man has known my body too many times to count, and he knows it in that way of his: even better than I do. He is the one that discovered he could slowly build the pressure of a pinch in my nipples—so slowly— and make me tremble until I screamed in bliss. Only Shingen would think to watch and wait that way. His patience is like the depth of his voice: smooth as lake water around my body, always making my heart feel cradled and kept safe.

I’ve slept so many happy nights (and even a few unhappy ones) held gently close to his chest. Close enough to hear and love his heartbeat. His strength and health and the bulk of him all so dear, and so wide shoulder to shoulder that he blocks the sun on the mornings when he sleeps on his side.

...Do you know that though his face is exactly as smooth as it looks, he sometimes has stubble in the mornings? Even his stubble is more nubby than sharp, another part of him that bends around me and would never hurt me.

Well. Not in a bad way. He has such full control of himself, of us both.

Lately he has been using my body to tease us. He gets a grip on my waist with those massive hands and with the strength of his arms he moves me up and down over just the broad, blunt, glorious tip of him, sometimes with my hands stroking all the rest. This way I can feel it— and so can he— when his cum shoots into me, hits depth, and flows back down onto him.

And then he uses all that cum to ease his way in and fuck me properly, lovemaking so gentle and purposeful I’d be in danger of dozing off if he didn’t always, always make it feel so good. But he does. Shingen gets a hand between my back and our silk-wrapped futon and tips me up for him, fingers curving along my ass. Or he lays me out on my front, covers my entire back with his body, and coaxes me to open up for him, open up, while he nudges me until I melt into doing just that. He’s made my body so eager to obey.

His talk is changing. He has always been loving, even before I trusted it was love. But now that he’s been healthy for awhile… he’s thinking about the future every day, I can see it. You can’t be with Shingen like I am and not pick up certain ways to read people.

I know what he wants, and what he’s trying to slowly warm me up to. Maybe he’s reading me reading him, and he’s being exactly this subtle on purpose. But I don’t think so. There’s an impossibly sweet, thick catch in his breath when we grind against each other lately, and there’s been so much purpose in his grip when he holds my waist, my thighs, my face.

“Angel,” he finally murmurs. “I want to talk to you about something.”

And we could talk. I love to talk to him. I love how well he listens— he’s a remarkably good listener. That’s why I know he’ll do what I tell him. That’s why I know just what to ask.

“Is what you want to talk about a baby?”

He stills, but he’s quickly smiling. “Onto me, hmm? Clever. How do you feel about the idea?”

I shuffle myself into the warmth of his lap, where I belong. It’s a stretch to fit my knees beside his legs, but he helps. When I put my arms around his neck he comes in to nudge my lips with his before murmuring “Hmm?”

“I feel like… I want you to have me tonight like you want a baby,” I confess. He kisses me on a sweet smile, the only parts of the moment that seem indecent are his hands wide over each side of my ass and his cock rising, promising and quick.

“Then that’s exactly what you’ll get,” he promises as he opens me up, mouth and soul, with his tongue. His fingers pull up the end of my sleeping robe over my backside. “Won’t need this,” he murmurs.

“Shingen,” I say, stopping him just this once by making a kiss a nuzzle of lips instead of the usual blooming for one another. “I’d like it if you talked. A lot. I want to hear your voice and what you want to do to me.”

My words are whispers, and I know I can only say them at all because his love has been so constant and so real. Being with him has allowed me to grow into some of my own bravery.

“I know,” he assures me. He’s quick to gather the fabric he’s pulled up into one hand and stroke my back with the other, soothing me with touch and gentle words. “I will. Just give yourself over to it, my angel. I love you.”

So I do, and he makes it magnificent. He undoes the belt of my robe and strokes my chest and belly like I am a priceless treasure while he mouths at my neck, then kisses my jaw until my eyelids are heavy. He murmurs, “You’re going to be a beautiful mother” as he gently tilts me back into our bedding and then slips my legs around him so smoothly I don’t even have time to worry how to unfold them. I let my hands rest on the silk somewhere above my head so he can see what he’s about to have.

Shingen appreciates the sight, as always. “You’re already so beautiful,” he says with a smile. “How will I survive you becoming any prettier, hmm?”

“You’ll think of something,” I tease. He’s got a very charming grin when our eyes meet.

“I’ll do my best,” he promises. Then, more seriously, he adds “I’ll take care of everything.” He kisses the air and somehow makes what would be silly from any other person into a seductive gesture. It pulls that first tight, telltale clench inside me. “I’ll take care of you.”

“I believe you,” I whisper, closing my eyes. It’s easier to focus on the feel of his thumbs massaging my thighs this way. I know he’s going to overwhelm me quickly— he always does. But I’m ready for this because he always takes such good care of me.

“I’m a lucky man, then,” he murmurs, beginning to use the rest of his hands. They are elegant but an undeniably beastly kind of broad, able to cover so much of me. And there’s a little more grasp in his touch than usual.

He hums and rubs my legs and rolls his core toward mine. He’s hard, of course, strong and hot enough to feel through his own robe, but the contact is not insistent. It has Shingen’s confidence: he’ll get what he wants in time. He doesn’t have to rush anything. And he won’t, tonight. The way he wants to savor this is in every shift of his palms over my skin, slow and easy. Gently possessive. Mapping.

One of those big hands slips up to my naked belly, and he puts his palm against a place he only touched with his fingertips before he laid me down. “I’m picturing it,” he says quietly. “It’s incredibly erotic,” he confesses, with one of those laughs he only lets out when he’s being very serious with me.

His thumb rubs a spiral that ends at my navel. “Right here,” he breathes. “A little one.”

I knew there was a time when he had given up on children because he had given up on his own future. I’ve never been so proud of someone being selfish before. I blow a kiss back up at him and he smiles like it landed just beside his mouth and he wants to catch it.

“And I’m going to put it there,” he adds. “But first, I’m going to show your body I’m worthy.” The hand still on my thigh slides up to my hip, and the hand on my belly trails down between my legs. I’m already warm and wet for him. He practically keeps me this way, and he is very good at those leg massages.

First he uses his fingers, unerring in their teasing and free from hesitation or flaw as he makes me writhe below him. He talks like I asked him to: So tight around only my fingers, princess, I have to work you open. I wish I could show you to yourself— you make me want to come on every part of your beautiful skin instead of deep inside.

While he gives me all this love and all these words, I am safe to move and sound however I want, however I am moved to. This is another way Shingen has helped me grow. When my moans pitch high for him, he starts to coax.

“So alluring like this,” he says through his teeth. “Glow for me. More. I know you can do it.”

It’s quick and it probably would have been quicker if I weren’t already so wet, which I suspect Shingen will address with his tongue next. Indeed, there he is, with a healthy flush on his cheeks and the sweetly smug expression I love best in all the world… giving me his usual slow, shameless show of the pink of his tongue against his top lip and teeth.

“I need something sweet,” he tells me. I think he’ll move down then to have his snack but he doesn’t. Not how I thought he would. He gives my pussy a wet little smack and brings his hand up to his mouth instead. I’m gifted a soft grin before he sucks his fingers clean, one at a time. He does not hold back-- he called the thought of putting a baby in me erotic, but everything Shingen does is erotic, and when he tries to be that way? It’s a good thing I’m already laying down.

He hums deep, a sound of contentment, and brings his palm to his lips. Shingen’s warm eyes are like a fall fire staring into mine when he murmurs, “That’s my favorite flavor,” and then licks a wide stripe across and up. He makes a show of his tongue for me, and I barely manage to keep watching him instead of bending my legs around his back and pulling our bodies together.

“I’d tell you not to look at me that way,” Shingen says, “But I can’t deny that I love being desired by you.”

“I am desiring you desperately right now,” I remind him, and he laughs and surges forward to give me another of his passionate kisses. Joyful, masterful, keen. As in interest and edge. That’s Shingen. And all he tastes of is me.

Against my mouth he openly groans. “Gods, you’re so alluring. How am I supposed to resist you?”

“Don’t,” I urge him, sliding one of my ankles up behind his back. I can feel that dip in his muscle at the side of his spine right above his ass. “Don’t,” I say again.

He’s made it crystal clear that he loves me wrapping myself around him or urging him on, so I expect both together to really bring him to his knees (spiritually speaking— he’s still on his knees between my legs, always so careful not to put his weight on me unless I beg him for it), but tonight he reaches back for my foot and strokes the instep with his thumb as he puts it back on the silk beneath us. He shakes his head, which brushes his smiling kisses across my mouth. “No, angel,” he says. “I should thank you for being so tempting every day, it’s only that practice that means I can wait to be inside you right now. But I want this to be special,” he tells me before his kiss pins my head to the silk. While I catch my breath a minute later, he kisses my eyelids. “And I want do to everything I can to make you pregnant tonight. That means I want you melting into this bed before I melt into you.”

In the face of such a plan I can only whine for him to get on with it, then. How dare he be so good to me!

Shingen laughs and kisses my cheeks. “Your wish is my command,” he whispers before he leans back. I miss his warmth but he doesn’t let me miss it for long. Somehow he makes scooting back sexy— I bet it would look pretty good from behind him, too, considering how nice that dip above his ass is— and the dark warmth of his eyes stays on mine until the first broad swipe of his tongue has me arching my body up like someone put a current to my spine.

His appreciative groan is muffled by my body… which means I can feel every part of it I can’t hear. “It’s alright,” he soothes, and then ruins the effect of it by shoving his tongue inside me and pulling it out along my top wall with a slurp. “Let a man feast before his work,” he says wetly before he goes back for more.

I’d describe what he’s doing as work, but whatever he’s doing, it makes me lose all ability to think anything but good and better and oh, god and Shingen!

“It’s going to be so hot and different,” he tells me between licks. This is another exquisite tease— he is not touching what will make me come, but he is touching what will arouse me perfectly, with his most devastating skill. Every way he licks away my wetness just makes my body replace it with more. He’s being so warm and teasing around my clit, enough that my need is concentrating into something not entirely pleasurable, all the sharper for how good every swipe of his tongue feels. He keeps his breathing loud and passionate against me, truly feasting. “Been holding back, I know you’ve noticed,” he teases. “Can’t wait to finally hilt myself before I come.”

The only sign of any stress from waiting on his part is the still-gentle clutch of his hands on my hips, holding me open like a bowl of clay instead of wood. I remember the times I’ve seen him rub an oiled cloth over the smooth inside of a dark wooden bowl and I bring my hands down into his hair, seeking the same softness.

I hadn’t meant it to rush him on, but I’m not unhappy when his tongue goes to my clit after that. He’s worked me into a many-looped knot of satisfaction and frustration and that first touch is warm and wet and its pressure is perfection. A sound of need comes out of my nose and I press the back of his head: there, please, more, as though he doesn’t know. I would laugh at myself if he didn’t have me so tightly strung.

He’s strong, even his tongue; that’s what makes this work. He finds the touch I like and then keeps it consistent, yet another way he shows his consideration and mastery. He knows a thousand ways to touch me, even a few ways to surprise me into orgasm, but we like knowing together what’s coming. In this case, it’s me.

“Come so your womb gets all relaxed and ready,” he growls once I’m there. “Come on my tongue.”

I do, so hard I feel the rippling of my muscles between my heartbeats.

He’s saying something as he tenderly kisses my thighs. I think it might be “so good for me”, but my pulse is too heavy in my ears to be sure. I do hear him slip off the tie of his robe, which finally opens my eyelids because I don’t want to miss the sight of him shrugging it off his shoulders.

It’s worth it. The bulk of him slipping free of that white cloth makes me want him all over again. And all over me.

“I can’t be the only one who gets a show,” he says with a little nod and a wash of color on his cheeks. He’s adorably modest at the sweetest times. I want this man’s baby almost as much as I want him. This time I don’t keep my legs down, I bend my knees and put my ankles together behind his back just as the fabric falls, and try to bring him close. My legs feel weaker than I expected.

He makes a noise of surprise, though, and grins at me. “Don’t flatter me, princess, you’ll end me early.”

“Then hurry up,” I grumble.

His grin widens as he reaches back with both hands to remove my feet. Instead of setting them back down on the bedding, this time he gently pushes them forward, until my knees bend and my back rests more fully on our silk. He moves one hand to my shin and presses. It makes a powerful point; I feel so open for him like this. He’s made love to me with one of my legs in the crook of his arm before and fucked me with both of my legs held tight against his chest, but I’ve never been in this... breeding position. That’s what it feels like.

“I won’t rush this,” he says gently. “Because what we’re doing is too important for that. But don’t worry. I can’t stand not to be in you any longer.”

And thankfully though he is a tease of the highest order, Shingen is no liar. His other hand goes between his legs and brings that magnificent cock to my body. The cry that falls out of my mouth at the first touch of his smoothness against my slippery flesh would humiliate me if his hand on my shin didn’t squeeze encouragingly and his voice didn’t whisper “Just imagine how I feel, love.”

He makes the first push in careful and slow, always so considerate of my comfort when I stretch around him. He’s worked me up so nicely there’s no trouble, but he’s still gentle until I gasp and he grunts when we feel the pop of his cockhead safely slipping inside. The stretch is hot and immediate, he’s had me clenching for him this whole time and now that he’s finally inside my body gets to feel the toe-curling bliss of trying to squeeze something that doesn’t give.

I love Shingen for his smoothness, but when he swears crudely under his breath my heart swells. I feel it beating in my chest the whole time he slowly slides into me, and then when he lets go of himself and puts his elbow onto the bedding above my shoulder and lowers his chest to mine.

“Shingen,” I whimper, just managing not to swear myself.

“Receive me,” he says calmly. He draws his hips back and then brings them to me again. “Feel it?”

I moan out a helpless yes and he shifts his arm so he can take me by the jaw and kiss me, tenderly but utterly in charge of what’s happening. My lip and my pussy tremble at the same time. “Good,” he whispers, and cuts off the trembling of my lip by taking it in his teeth as he sets his rhythm. It’s slow and it is deep, filling me so much more completely than he has in what feels like a long time.

He makes me feel powerful and loved beneath him, but small. He’s just so big. There is no other way to feel. His thumb is stroking just beside my mouth, keeping close to our kisses. He presses when he wants me to stop.

“Your children are going to be so beautiful and perfect,” he murmurs. When he stops pressing with his thumb I go right back to his mouth for a kiss. He presses the hand on my leg instead, like a command to open.

“So tight around me, angel, how is anything supposed to get in? Need me to make you come again? Or... need me to fuck you open a little more?”

His words and the press of him onto and into my body light me up inside. Something inside me twinges pleasurably from his words and he touches the other end of it with his cock just as it recovers. So the only answer I can give him is a moan, right into his mouth.

He’s still moving so slow and full in me. I don’t trust my voice but I feel compelled to urge him on, and I manage to rasp out “Faster,” between his kisses.

Shingen growls into my mouth and the hand on my leg presses it to the side, opening me a little more. “Why are you so good to me-- ungh,” he grits out, pressing one more fierce kiss to my mouth before he moves his head beside mine and starts whispering the most loving filth imaginable in my ear.

“Faster? I’ll fuck you faster. I’ll fuck our first child into you and then fuck you again just to make sure it takes. I’ll keep you in this bed while you swell if you let me, and fuck you every day to keep your muscles lax. I’m going to be the first one to see when your milk comes in a few months from now--” He shudders and it is so strong that his cock carries it into me, so I feel it right where his cum needs to be if he wants to make these dream come true.

“Because I’m going to have my hands on you every day. I said I’d take care of everything,” he reminds me. “All your aches. All your needs. I’m going worship you as you grow around our baby like never before.”

I clutch at him, the slap of my hand landing behind his shoulder in perfect time with the slap of our bodies coming together. He flexes so forcefully inside of me that I feel like he is pulling me up.

“I want you to feel loved,” he says, “Always. But I know that you want to hear I’m going to shove myself so far into you there will be nowhere for my seed to go but in, angel, and you’re going to let it in because you want this, too.”

I gasp his name and he takes my skin in his teeth—not biting, just holding me— and hisses gently through that clench as he begins to spill inside me. “Get. Pregnant,” he enunciates against my skin, the words turning the pressure of his teeth wickedly, deliciously sharp so I can’t forget the heat of his words even when he lets go to groan.

It is deep. It does feel like it is being forced more deeply inside me than I have even been conscious of before. The spread of the warmth… suffuses, I have no other word for it. I hope that it is getting me pregnant but I know it is changing me either way, just as his breath against my neck becomes a kiss.

He begins to melt above me. His grip on my leg becomes short, gentle strokes of his fingers coming together and relaxing.

“I love you,” he murmurs. He says my name and kisses my neck again with tenderness that nearly blocks my throat. “You are... everything to me.”

I try to match the movements of his fingers with my hand on his back. “I love you, too,” I whisper back. “Do you think...?”

“We’ll find out,” he says warmly, propping himself up on his elbow so he can cup my face. “I’m eager to,” he croons, giving a gentle, experimental thrust. He’s not even half soft. Sometimes I wonder if he’s human.

Whatever he is, I like him that way. “Me, too,” I say quietly.

“Good, that’s good,” he praises. The second roll of his hips makes me feel warm, sloppy, and so loved and good beneath him that I can’t care about the mess.

“Gods, that’s good, you’re good.” he murmurs. “I haven’t had nearly enough of you tonight, angel. And I’ve heard that a cushion under your hips can be very effective...”

#ikesen shingen #ikesen fanfic #ikesen fanfiction #ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku shingen #theeyethatbinds #pseu slings

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acrispyapple · 4 years

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Man, children are children no matter their age and you have every right to defend the (obvious) hard work, effort, and love you put into your blog on the damn daily. The people who attack based on 'info' they cherry-picked from half-read clarification statements, while an annoyance and irritation, are not worth your time or consideration. You were one of the first blogs I stumbled on when I got into otome, and I'm grateful every day for your content. F those idiots, you're beautiful

heya! thank you. reading through all these asks, i’m kinda embarrassed. but yeah, thanks! now i have to think of 50 ways to say this for the other asks haha

anyway, you’re right! while some stuff that may happen to me on tumblr are an annoyance, they’re not really worth my time. the people who support me also outnumber the naysayers, so i’m just gonna concentrate on that! plus i have a life outside of tumblr i actually need to manage better. (°◡°)

#asks #theeyethatbinds #personal

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toreii · 5 years

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Congrats on the followers milestone! You super deserve it! I'm always excited to see your posts haha. If there's still room, could I request a spicy drabble with Best Love Shinbae? Our thorst for content involving him is very powerful ^^

Thank you for your support and request! I hope I was able to quench the thirst for our dear, Shinbae! A special thank you to admin Yukari @goddess-of-writing-wars for helping me out with this drabble. Enjoy!

ーtoreii

Warnings: NSFW

She pulled him by his hand, a small giggle escaping her lips, as they made their way to their bedroom. Shingen closed the distance encircling his powerful arms around Mai's waist pressing her against him. She leaned onto his frame purring with delight as Shingen nibbled on the lobe of her ear; his hands roving along her midsection. Mai encircled an arm around him, her hand cradling the back of his head allowing Shingen to claim the soft skin on her neck. She cried wantonly feeling a stinging pain as Shingen bit her neck. His hot tongue instantly lapped the sore spot soothing the sudden ache, and causing a sweet chill to shoot down her spine.

"Shingen," Mai moaned.

He ground his hips from behind, driving Mai into the wall in front of her. She sighed softly feeling Shingen begin to make quick work of her obi. He pulled it off of her discarding it to the side as it fell over the edge of the veranda. Shingen turned Mai around taking in her flushed face.

"My goddess," he whispered in a husky tone.

She met his passionate expression with her own, a thrilled smile gracing her painted lips. The maids had gone to great efforts to make her presentable for the night. Esteemed guests had arrived at their cozy castle among them reputable daimyo and their close friends from Kasugayama Castle. Mai and Shingen had spent a majority of the night entertaining their guests. Yet, Shingen's roving hands had made it known he wanted her. Mai wasn't about to turn down the invitation. They snuck out of the audience chamber rushing back to their quarters.

Mai leaped up wrapping her arms and legs around her man. Shingen deftly caught her as their lips crashed together in a fierce kiss. His large hands pushed the hem of her kimono aside palming her thighs all the way to her rear where he gave her buttocks a firm squeeze. Mai broke away from Shingen throwing her head back in euphoric bliss as she started to grind against Shingen.

He grunted feeling a knee give out. "My, eager, are we?"

"I want you," Mai stated simply, leaning in to nip at his neck.

Shingen chuckled. "I don't mind taking you here, but someone could watch," he said, pressing her back against the wall.

Mai smirked. "Unlikely. I heard you order everyone to remain at the party. The sake still hasn't run outーAh!" Shingen pinned one of her hands against the wall as he began to grind into her sex. "Mm, Kenshin...is still...haa...here…"

"Louder. I want to hear you loudly," Shingen demanded gently as he slipped one side of her kimono off her shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder while he hiked a knee in between her legs. Feeling the new pressure against her core, Mai caved into his request.

"Oh!"

Shingen smiled. "Such a beautiful voice, but it's not enough. I want to hear you sing."

He held onto her, continuing to pin her against the wall, and slipped his hand past her undergarments. He dipped two fingers into her folds stimulating her clit. Mai felt an electric feeling coil in her abdomen as she trembled with delight. Her hands clawed at his shoulders as she began to move with his fingers seeking that delightful ecstasy to satisfy her need. Shingen moved further in her plunging his fingers into her core.

"Nngh!"

"Cry, my love. Don't hold back."

"Shin...gen…"

"Mai…"

He bit into her shoulder making her cry with a mix of pain and pleasure. Her arms tightened around him as she moved with more urgency against his stimulating fingers. Shingen sealed her lips with his own, his tongue pushing into her mouth as he continued to pump into her in a steady rhythm. Their soft moans echoed into the quiet night while their tongues slid together savoring the feel against each other. Shingen curled his fingers knowing he was bound to hit Mai's g-spot. The moment she squirmed in his arms, Shingen pursued that spot relentlessly hindering all coherent thought from her mind. Mai couldn't help but cry out loud once more.

Her hand clutched at her own breast as she wildly bucked against Shingen's hand and fingers. Mai lost herself to the throes of pleasure feeling the coil in her abdomen close to bursting. Her labored breaths shortened to small, sharp gasps as she threw her head back again. Her vision blanked into white making her squeeze her eyes shut. With a few more pumps of his fingers, Shingen felt her core tightened all of a sudden.

Mai screamed without caution as Shingen continued to draw out her release. His fingers smoothly slid in and out causing her body to tremble in pleasure. Her body gradually slackened, and Mai practically slumped against his broad chest. Shingen withdrew his fingers from her folds as he set her down. He slipped his drenched digits in his mouth getting a taste of his beloved's personal flavor.

"As expected, my goddess tastes sweet as always. I'll have you ascend to the heavens once I'm inside of you."

"You mean...there's more?" Mai asked breathlessly.

Shingen reached down between them pulling the cords to his robes. Mai watched languidly as her lover easily undressed, his clothes pooling in a heap around him. Shingen parted the rest of her kimono letting it also fall around her feet. His hands trailed over her body cupping every supple part of her. Mai shivered with his touch especially when he fondled with her sensitive peaks on the swell of her breasts.

Shingen leaned in brushing his nose along her tresses. "You can't expect me to leave things as is. I want to make love to you."

Mai hummed with satisfaction. "I am yours, my love."

He removed the last of their clothing. Hiking one of her legs up and around his waist, Shingen positioned himself at her entrance. He kissed her deeply just as he entered her in one fluid motion. Mai moaned against his lips feeling his entire girth inside of her so suddenly. She pulled herself against him as Shingen began to pull out. He pushed back in her a split second later, and soon established a steady rhythm as he thrust into her over and over again.

They parted gasping for air equally as Shingen continued to drive her up against the wall. Mai tried to match his speed feeling the familiar, libidinous pressure in her abdomen growing again. Her fingernails clawed and scratched at his broad back while she rode him encouraged by his rapturous grunts. Shingen braced himself against the wall with one hand as he continued to hold Mai with the other. He gazed between their bodies, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, and their sex joined together in blissful euphoria.

"I love you," Shingen rasped.

Mai kissed him deeply, never breaking pace with him, cupping his face in her hands.

"Me too."

Shingen buried his face in her chest, his warm breath fanning along her damp skin. Mai clutched his chestnut hair as they changed the pace of their rhythm. They rocked a little slower, angling their bodies, and drawing out the building pleasure between them. Their moans echoed out into the night; the moon proving ample light of their slick bodies in the summer heat. Shingen returned to her neck and chest leaving biting kisses all over her skin. Mai shut her eyes and arched just as Shingen took a sensitive peak in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around her nipple before sucking and grazing his teeth along the tender flesh.

"Mmm… Aah…"

Her hand returned to her other breast in hopes of increasing the pleasure she was feeling. However, Shingen took note and switched breasts as his other hand teased the other. Mai felt pleasantly overwhelmed. She could feel Shingen in all directions as he lavished her with attention. She only hoped she could do the same for him as she continued to ride him.

It didn't take long to finally reach that crescendo. Mai began to twitch before convulsing against Shingen. She felt him release inside of her just as quickly; her body milking him for every drop. They slid to the floor, breathless, and exchanging sloppy kisses as they pulled out from each other. Shingen reached behind him grabbing Mai's kimono, and draped it over her shoulders. He pulled her against him resting against the wall, and gazed up at the full moon above them.

"Has my goddess returned back down from the heavens?" He asked.

Mai playfully swatted his chest. Her fingers traced across his damp skin flitting across a few battle scars and the one from his surgery.

"I've always been here," she replied, tapping at his heart with her finger.

Shingen smiled. He caught her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. He kissed each digit before looking down at her. The same passionate gazed remain in his eyes making her own gaze soften. Shingen held her chin in his fingers.

"Stay with me always," he murmured.

"Always," Mai replied.

They leaned in sharing a soft kiss in the summer night.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #shingen takeda #fanfiction #1000 followers gift #theeyethatbinds

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guacameowle · 4 years

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Concerning that gorgeous Saeyoung Choi art you reblogged from cranberrymymo, it really gives me like a Rikki Tikki Tavi vibe from the Chuck Jones animated film... something about the soft lines and color palette immediately struck me. Basically, it's A-grade and I am alive and present for it *chef kiss*

Can’t say I’m familiar with that animation. I do really like that Saeyoung illustration, though. Maybe I just enjoy the style. Maybe I like the coloring. Maybe I like his expression. I tend to sometimes get stuck wanting to pinpoint WHY I like something instead of just accepting I like it just because.

#Meowle Asks #theeyethatbinds

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

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@theeyethatbinds Girl SING IT. SING IT LOUDER FOR THE GIRLS IN THE BACK, SWEAR TO GOD.

Like I’m gonna be real wit y’all I was looking forward to le Comte for a while, but I was always side-eyeing Jeanne. He’s a blunt hermit and grump and 100% mood, so I hoped his route would give me more insight into how I feel about him.

Ladies. When I tell you. It was EXCELLENT. I mean there are so many gr9 routes in the game, I don’t want to take away from them, but there was just something about his that hit me so hard???? (MY KOKORO BROKORO)

More under the cut since his route won’t be out for a little while (we still got Isaac, then Theo, then Jeanne), as a little treat. As usual, pls don’t read if you don’t want spoilers, thanks!

Okay so going into this route I was fully expecting the big sads. I mean, if history has taught us anything it was that Joan D’Arc was a badass but good lord, that doesn’t mean the people of her time were kind to her. (I need to do more thorough research on her, so if I’m getting any of her pronouns wrong or neglect something, I do apologize.)

That being sad, I was like aight DECK MY SHIT WITH TRAGEDY, JEANNE. And at the beginning it’s p fascinating. He’s very ornery and resistant to any kind of consideration or attempts at friendship MC extends. But eventually, after a good deal of persistence, he relents little by little.

I’d also like to level with y’all for a sec. Being someone who knows a great deal in regards to the kinds of mental and emotional shit Jeanne struggles through, I think they handled that part of the route so, so well. Granted, I’m not the kind of person to launch a crusade over different writing styles--but for me it just feels all the more poignant when it makes sense; when certain dispositions or trauma are conveyed with that depth. To me, it made 100% sense that Jeanne would be so against accepting other people into his life immediately.

He and Mozart vibe because they’re so similar, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s comfortable letting just anyone in--much less a complete stranger. I think it’s more that Mozart and Jeanne share a kind of indelible bond/mutual recognition through their talent, actually. They were both prodigies, absolute geniuses in their fields (military vs. music) but their social skills were shot to hell for the very same reason. To be brilliant--beyond one’s potential posthumous legacy--tends to mean being hated. Plus, they’re both principled to absolute extremes. When they’ve decided on something, they will not waver. They’re stubborn and austere, but behind those walls lies a molten core of sensitivity.

This is important to understanding him, I think, before I move forward.

While one could argue that their reaction is a result of that deficiency of emotional and social support (which I entirely concede does contribute to the matter at hand, it shouldn’t be overlooked) I think the real crux of the matter here is control. Think about it. Among the oldest residents in the mansion (let’s say that were born more than 100 years within the range of the present period of the game) are Mozart, Jeanne, Isaac, and Shakespeare. What do they all have in common?

Extremity. For Mozart, it comes in the form of a kind of OCD, as perfectionism. For Jeanne, it is generalized anxiety and PTSD. For Isaac, it is primarily social anxiety--but it’s still noticeably severe. And Shakespeare runs around with a knife, insecurity through the roof, literally unable to trust anything or anyone (psychosis? schizoaffective? I’m really not sure, these are all ballpark assessments based on the evidence I have). In order to adjust to their new surroundings, there was a cost--and in some ways their coping mechanisms become noticeably maladaptive. They were born into eras that were mercilessly unpredictable, and the only way they knew how to cope was to was to either take the blame--make it a personal failing that tragedy struck--or try to immerse themselves into their craft. They all seek to regain some kind of control (this is even visible in Vincent, to a degree--painting was an escape from his emotionally turbulent world).

Granted that’s not to say that the others don’t struggle with such issues at all, I just feel like the characters from more unstable time periods tend (as a general trend) to mirror that instability within their personalities.

All that being said, (I apologize I am a tangent-monger and love meta), Jeanne’s self-imposed isolation is only partially caused by the above dynamic. Yes, he is unwilling to let people into his heart for fear of betrayal. (It’s almost like an entire nation clamoring to watch you burn for something you didn’t do after spending your entire life and talents trying to protect them would do that to you, but I digress >:| ). But there’s another devastating and potentially less obvious reason for keeping people out.

He thinks he deserves it.

Loneliness, melancholy, aimlessness. These are all the punishments that he incurred on himself after a life of what he conceives to be considerable sin (hahaha battlefield enemies go ripppp). Whether or not he was operating purely out of a sense of duty, even if he felt sympathy for his enemy combatants, it’s not enough. And the condemnation of his king, of his entire nation, only served to magnify that self-loathing to a dangerous degree. (Don’t get me started on his parents I’m still so angry >:| they more or less disowned him since he was constitutionally weak as a young boy, and thus could not serve as an adequate farmhand. Don’t work? Don’t eat/live).

It’s hard enough living in a reserved way because you’re afraid of getting hurt, but to think that you deserve it when hurt finds you, no less? And my favorite part, that he’s so profoundly sure that it is an extension of a personal, fundamental failing? That for a person to survive, they must be strong, that there can be no other way--that there is no time or space for ruminations on fairness or unfairness, there are only those who manage to survive and those who die.

Now my friends, esteemed comrades, legendary sluts. Is that enough for us, Cybird asks, are we feeling enough pain quite yet? Fuck no.

Most of his route after we get over the hurdle of his hesitation is just him. Being. Bashful and gentle as all FUCK. Like he is the definition of “I'll kill you, but also I’m babie.” For instance, she insists on teaching him how to read and write at night when she finds him trying (and not succeeding) to read “The Ugly Duckling”. Yes I mean the children’s book. I CRIED THE FIRST TIME AND I’M CRYING NOW. So, naturally, MC buys him a notebook to practice with and he puts his name in big letters on the front. When MC sees this, she asks him about it--wondering why he would given he’s so self-conscious of his own writing (boy writes all squiggly like a little kid because he’s never done it before ;-;).

The scene goes a little something like this:

MC: Wh....whatcha go there Jeanne? Jeanne: ? My notebook? MC: I...mean that you wrote your name on it? Jeanne: Yeah? MC: Why? Jeanne: ._. It was a gift from you, and I figured it'd be hard to practice if I lost it...so I put my name on it... (HE WAS SECRETLY TOUCHED I BET AND IM--) MC: Why such big letters? Jeanne: So people can spot it quickly, obviously MC, inches from crying and laughing: Jeanne: Mademoiselle??? Why are you laughing? MC: Because you’re cute, Jeanne!

Like. They start out so rocky and Jeanne is so SIGH. I guess I’ll agree if it’ll get her to stop looking so sad and ask me to join her for stuff. But then he just can’t help but go full softe at how patient and kind she is, starts feeling comfortable just...being who he is deep down. A man that’s always hoped for better in life, a person that only ever takes up his sword to protect--that has an incredibly pure and clear heart, despite so much pain.

And good lord, they are GOD TIER romantic slow burn???? Swear to everything holy, I was BEGGING for them to make out by like chapter 10, I was just suffering for most of the route until the bangarang premium. Here’s probably my favorite moment in the entire route:

Basically Sebastian and Mozart pull out all the stops trying to bring Jeanne and MC together (once they see Jeanne show some interested in her). And so Jeanne asks her to join him in the courtyard the next morning, and they’re playing with Cherie (Jeanne’s pet baby white tiger). Besides being ungodly adorable--because Jeanne invited her for the sole purpose of hoping to see her delightfully surprised--Mozart begins to play a love song nearby. They don’t name the tune, but Jeanne canonically starts singing along (I wholeass cried, I WANT TO HEAR HIM SING????). And so she asks what the song is about, and he explains that Mozart once played it for him, but he couldn’t make out the words at first. Mozart explained that it was a love song that speaks to the difficulties of being in love (the worry, the strife) but also the beauty of the intensity and passion. He goes on to say that even when he learned the words, it never made much sense to him back then--it never resonated.

He’s singing softly with a fond look, and so she asks, does he understand it now? And he looks her dead in the eye, and says “...I think I’m starting to.” Like. AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT LOSE MY MIND AT THE TENDERNESS????? WHAT A SMOOTH MOFO????? MAN RAISED TO BE A SOLDIER, NO KNOWLEDGE OF ROMANCE OR WOMEN, AND KILLS ME IN MILLISECONDS?????? I DEMAND JUSTICE. (Or it’s just me thinking sincerity is the best aphrodisiac, but that’s beside the point.)

This has been your quarantine 2d boy meta and yelling, provided by your local mod Minnie. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to get to the things I’ve been procrastinating on while reliving/dissociating about one of my favorite rts in the entire game. Stay safe and well out there y’all, peace out!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp jeanne #ikevamp mozart #yall like #this reply just launched me right back into my jeanne feels #i dont have words for how much i love him #he's just such a good dude????? such a good dude #he really is trying his best pls give him love for me if you can #i binged his route almost as hard as sg's bc it was just t h a t sweet and compelling #i also cried like a baby #he deserves better and he deserves love #i will protect him forever #does that mean that in every single route i am acutely aware of the fact that I can't help him?#:))))))))))))))))))))))))))) life is pain. life is a party and jeanne and i are the pinatas.#and no i dont wanna talk abt it there will be no more questions LDKJH #just kidding around if anyone has any questions yall are free to send em! I'll answer to the best of my ability~#anyhoot ty @theeyethatbinds for bringing all those good feels back #you are a legend and you have wonderful taste we stan **cheers**

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pseudofaux · 3 years

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*hyperventilates her way into your ask box* PSEU you write the BEST snippets and I'm 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ if you found your way to a 🔥🔥🔥 spicy something for Hakuoki's best demon Kazama or SLBP's cat-dad Mitsuhide, I will love you forever (jk I already do 💞) I hope you and yours are doing well, and don't forget to treat yourself, even for the little things 😍🤗🥰

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA choosing between those two is torture. 😫💕🤸🏻‍♀️ Gonna do Kazama because I think he gets even less love than Mitsuhide (what the HELL, honestly). Thank you so much for always being so sweet and supportive, and for requesting this tipseu. I hope you enjoy it! 😚😚

halfway through this is turning out more sappy, I am going to shakeshakeshake a little spice on it i promise

She learned quickly that every fire found him, as though that natural part of the world had an affinity for his eyes and blade and hair.

She did, she had learned that quickly, too.

Occasional personality clashes aside, there wasn’t much she didn’t love about him. Capitulating to his demand of marriage hadn’t been so bitter a pill to swallow, and the smirk of his kiss was sweeter than she had ever expected. It was what she remembered, anyway.

At their wedding ceremony, in a city covered in flames, in their home. Everywhere, fire found the red or gold of his eyes and made its nest there, bright and burning. Tonight, the lamps beside their bedding made everything seem warm and soft. Their skin was clean from a shared bath-- always shared, unless he had to be away-- and his skin was forever just the right temperature (when she agreed to marry him, she learned this was a demon quirk, something determined for them by their bodies before they spent any time together). She had to unlearn her shyness, but now to be close to him was as natural as fire.

And he put that particular fire low in her body, especially with the shared bath. He always acted as though he could take or leave their closeness, but he often brought her close, especially during soaks. He didn’t talk. He didn’t even tease her. He just held her against his body, sometimes behind her, sometimes to his chest. More and more, lately, it was tinder in her belly. Some nights it begged for a spark.

She was his wife. Fire found her, too.

“This won’t give you children,” he said, as though he were bored. His hand stretched wide around her entire shoulder told a different story. Tight, but not halting any of her progress.

“Hush, honored husband,” she said sweetly, and went back to her work, kissing his length with an open mouth and a ready tongue.

“You’re not in charge,” Kazama muttered, but he let her. He always let her, when they were alone. His other hand found its place behind him on the bedding, keeping him sitting up even when he let his head fall back when she took him in her mouth. His long, lean legs spread out at either side of her body, reliable as the walls of their home.

Her sleeping robe was loose, like his. She kept one hand at the base of his cock, gripping with the strength she was still learning, and brought the other between her own legs. Twice he’d ordered her to touch herself and let him watch, and he’d watched very closely indeed. She was still learning that, too. He’d brusquely told her it was his responsibility to know these things about her, and if she was learning he would learn with her. That day, her heart had gone to smoke in her chest, suffocating on love for all his unexpected tendernesses.

She had those in mind as she touched herself and sucked him. It wasn’t something he had ever asked for, and she didn’t like to think too hard about where the idea had come from-- it made her fidgety in a human way, modest about their bodies in ways demons did not fret over.

She enjoyed doing this. She liked the way color came into his cheeks, and she liked keeping their closeness. She liked touching herself while she did it, rump in the air, fingers becoming slippery and glossy (not that Kazama would ever let anyone close enough to see her rump or her glossy fingers-- perhaps that was what let her be so bold).

“Take it, then,” he hissed. His hand moved from her shoulder to her face, and he held a fingertip just beyond the point of one of her horns. She bumped him each time she moved. “Find your own pleasure as you do, if you dare.”

She dared.

And only a moment after, he switched their places with a growl and she saw the fire had found his eyes. Gaze golden as drifting embers, he looked at her with wordless purpose. She laced their hands together on the bedding they shared and looked him full in the face when she told him she needed him.

“Of course you do,” he said. “That’s the way of things.”

He moved in her with that perfect warmth of his, all his skin tempering the fire within him to touch her with a welcome heat that did not scald. She could feel every ridge and flare of him, and he’d told her he could feel every curl and grip of her.

“This is what gets you with child,” he told her, nipping at her lip. She couldn’t help but laugh, and when she stopped to kiss him the smirk on his face was endlessly sweet.

#hakuouki #hakuouki kazama #hakuouki fanfiction #hakuouki fanfic #theeyethatbinds #tipseu #STILL MOSTLY SAPPY GDI gonna go re-up on my booze brb

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