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peachdues · 9 months

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Phantasmagoria (Part II)

Tell Me to Stop (Sanemi’s Version)

Sanemi x F!Reader • Modern AU • NSFW

A/N: read the fucking warnings before you report.

Massive TW: grief • loss of a parent • canon character death • drug and alcohol abuse • panic attacks • implied attempted sexual assault (not described, happens off-page • non-consensual photos being texted around (very briefly described, and then it’s just a mention of a bite mark) • violence between characters • brief description of Douma getting his face pounded in (deserved)

CW: 14k words. MDNI. explicit sexual content ahead (opens mid-fuck) • creampies • oral (f! and m!receiving) • rough oral • throat fucking • cum eating • ass-smacking • hate(?)fucking • toxic ass FWB • swearing • angst

I promise Part III will have angst BUT also lots of fluff/intimacy/care.

Without further ado!

Three weeks had passed since Sanemi first brought her home with him when Y/N realized she was utterly fucked.

Sure, at that moment, the platinum-haired man had her bent over his kitchen table, arms pinned behind her back as he pounded mercilessly into her, but she realized that she was also fucked because nothing had ever or would ever compare to the way Sanemi made her feel.

It had started only as an occurrence whenever they were out at night, with Y/N tugging Sanemi into Kizuki’s seedy bathroom to bounce against his lap. Sanemi had been forced to muffle his groans by sucking harshly on her breast as he fucked her against the bathroom wall, only for her to succinctly pull off him the moment he finished to return to her friends, Shinobu discretely handing her a napkin to wipe the remnants of his pleasure as it dripped down her thighs.

Then, she started letting him bring her back to his apartment from the various clubs and bars their groups visited. She grew content to let him lay her over the side of his bed to swirl that sinful tongue around her needy, demanding clit as his thick fingers steadily pumped in and out of her aching cunt while he fucked her mouth, his seed spilling down her throat with a force that threatened to obliterate any dwindling part of her that had not been utterly consumed by him.

But that still had not been enough for Y/N — or for Sanemi, apparently.

Because their late-night trysts had quickly evolved into near-daily rendezvouses, both stone-cold sober and texting each other in the middle of the day, in desperate need to feel the other’s body pressed flush against their own. And as wrong as it was, Y/N loved it; she craved it more than any pretty Wisteria pill or sticky fruity drink.

Because all it took was one taste for Y/N to end up right back in the scarred palm of Sanemi Shinazugawa’s hand, begging him to fuck her back to life.

And fuck her he did. The top of her sundress had been pulled down to her waist, and the wooden grain of his kitchen table bit into her bare breasts as Sanemi’s hips slapped roughly against her ass. Y/N was close to sobbing because god, it felt fucking good when he got rough with her like that, when he made her feel anything other than the crippling numbness that seemed to spread through her with each passing day.

He released her arms to lean forward and ghost his lips up her spine, all the way to the back of her neck, and Y/N came hard, just like she did every time they came together because Sanemi knew how to set every nerve in her body on fire with his addicting touch and addicting kiss.

One rough hand made its way under her jaw to twist her head back so he could claim her lips with his, coming as he did so, his groan of pleasure muffled by Y/N sliding her tongue into his mouth.

She hated how much she loved him.

—————————————————————————

They’d been sleeping together for nearly a month when Sanemi decided to test her patience.

“So, are we gonna talk about it?” Y/N cringed, because no, she most certainly did not want to talk about it; not then, not ever, and especially not with him.

“Why would we?” She responded flippantly, twirling the straw in the dregs of her drink. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Bullshit,” Sanemi snapped at her. “You’ve spent the last two years running away from us, and you think there’s nothing to talk about?”

Y/N met his stare hard, her own returning glare cold. “Running implies effort.”

“D’you really think I didn’t try to find you?” Sanemi grabbed her wrist, keeping her from getting up and leaving the bar. “But god forbid you be vulnerable, huh?”

————————————————————————-

“Oh, God forbid you be vulnerable, ‘Nemi,” Y/N gave him an exaggerated eye roll as she leaned her head against Kyojuro’s shoulder.

“You’re sayin’ you would let yourself get that…close with someone?” Sanemi argued, and with a sigh, Kyojuro paused the movie.

They weren’t supposed to be watching a movie with such steamy scenes, but Y/N’s mother had stepped out to cover a shift for a friend, and the trio of teenagers had been left without supervision.

Really, the movie hadn’t been that bad; but the film’s shining sex scene had been several minutes long, each of the teenagers shifting uncomfortably on the couch as the sound of moans filled the basement where they’d gathered to watch.

The scene had passed, but Y/N’s and Sanemi’s argument over a particular detail had not.

“If you’re already having sex, why does it matter what position it’s in?” Y/N half shrieked with laughter as both boys turned scarlet. “Isn’t intimacy the whole point?”

Sanemi turned his face away, embarrassed. “All I’m sayin’ is I don’t think I’d ever let a woman have that much power over me.” Sanemi was referring to the way the female character had climbed atop the love interest and began riding him, her head tipped back as loud, lascivious moans fell from her lips.

It was Kyo’s turn to laugh. “You’d have to get a woman in that position, to begin with, Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi made a disgruntled sound. “Bro code says you’re supposed to be on my side, Rengoku,”

Beneath where her cheek lay, Kyojuro vibrated as he laughed heartily. “I’m not saying I’m not! Just that you’ve got a few steps to take before you have to worry about it.”

“Worry about being too vulnerable,” Y/N screwed her eyes up and stuck her tongue out on the last word as she teased him, settling back in against the couch as she grabbed the remote from Kyo’s hand and re-started the movie.

—————————————————————————

“You would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Y/N said frostily, stomping away from the bar and from him.

She didn’t know why she tried to run away from him, not when it was so pointless. Because an hour later, Y/N found herself on the edge of Sanemi’s bed, as he hooked her legs over his muscled shoulders. Face buried deep in her cunt, he lifted her off the mattress, suspending her mid-air and upside down as he ravished her while she sobbed for him to do more, to give her more until she could not possibly take anything else from him.

Perhaps he was punishing her; maybe she deserved it. All Y/N knew, as Sanemi finally tore his mouth away from her weeping core and flipped her onto her knees before slamming her back on his steely length, was that if this was her punishment for loving Sanemi Shinazugawa, she would gladly take it.

The last thing she thought, as Sanemi spilled into her for the second time that evening, thumb swirling her clit and his teeth buried in her neck, was that she was grateful to be on birth control.

—————————————————————————

“Do you like doing that?” Kyojuro’s voice was hesitant over the vibration of the music and laughter of drunken revelers gathered to let loose on the Kizuki dancefloor, and Y/N had to lean closer to hear him at all.

Y/N frowned slightly as she pushed her dissolving Wisteria to her cheek. “It’s just a recreational thing, while we’re out, y’know?”

She didn’t know why she was explaining herself to him, or why she felt like she had to, but Kyojuro had always been one of the few people who could pull the truth out of her with little effort, and in the back of her mind, she knew that made him dangerous. After all, he might get her to confess that she’d missed his smile or missed the blazing heat of Sanemi’s stare whenever she spoke.

Kyojuro reached out and brushed a lock of her hair that had fallen loose from one of her space buns behind her ear. “You were always so straight-edge. I guess I’m just surprised.”

Y/N wanted to smack his hand away but found herself leaning into the steadying warmth of his touch. “Things change, I suppose.”

Kyojuro winced, and his eyes filled with a sadness that was too out of place here in this den of debauchery. “Where did it all go wrong, Y/N? What happened?”

It all went wrong when Sanemi and Genya’s parents were killed in that car crash, making the boys wards of the state who were then bounced around from foster home to foster home. It all went wrong when Genya defended another boy in a fight that wasn’t his to begin with and ended up dead on a sidewalk. It all went wrong when Sanemi lashed out at her and condemned her with a few choice words that seemed grossly disproportionate to what she’d actually said. It all went wrong when Kyojuro decided that being there for Sanemi meant he had to abandon her, too, and then they’d both forgotten about her while she’d lost everything.

But Y/N couldn’t unload all of that right then. “Things change, Kyojuro.” She repeated, though her voice was slightly weaker than it had been, wobbling slightly in a way that Y/N knew meant she would cry if given long enough.

“But you’re our friend, Y/N-” Kyojuro pled, but it was the wrong thing to say, and he cringed as he watched her clam up almost instantly.

—————————————————————————

“She’s our friend!” Kyojuro said hotly, though, with his missing front tooth, it was hard to see him as anything but adorable, even as he glowered at the sneering girl, as he helped Y/N stand up from where she’d been knocked over.

“What a weirdo!” Ume, the small, white-haired girl who always looked like she smelled something unpleasant, reached to yank one of Y/N’s pigtails harshly, causing her to cry out in pain. “And you’re ugly, too!”

Y/N had only been trying to join in on Ume’s tea party that she held with the other girls in their class. But when she’d boldly tried to sit down amongst them, the cruel little girl had shoved her harshly out of the circle they’d formed on the blacktop,

Kyojuro smacked the beastly little girl’s hand away. “Hit her again, and I’ll make you sorry!” He threatened, and for once, the girl had the wits to look slightly intimidated at the blonde who towered over her.

“If you hit me, I’ll tell my brother on you!” The troll hissed, but it did little to cow Kyojuro, who shouldered past her as he steered the softly crying Y/N away from the horrid little group of girls.

“Y/N, are you okay?” The blonde asked worriedly after they were out of sight of Ume, turning her around to look her over.

“I-I just w-wanted to be t-their friend!” Y/N hiccupped, her tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “But they were s-so mean!”

Kyojuro pat her head, just like he did with his baby brother. “You don’t want to be their friend, Y/N,” he said kindly. “Not when they’re so mean. Stick with me and Sanemi! We’ll always look after you!”

Y/N wiped her eyes and tugged at her loose pigtail, all messed from Ume’s harsh grip. “Do you promise?”

Kyojuro smiled as brightly as the sun. “I promise! I will always be here to watch after you – whenever you need me! I’ll be there!”

—————————————————————————

Y/N patted the warm brawn of Kyojuro’s shoulder sympathetically. “I was, Kyo,” her use of his nickname somehow made him hurt more, his mouth wobbling somewhat as his eyes mirrored the resignation in hers. “But it’s just as I said,”

Y/N reached for Mitsuri’s discarded drink on the counter and tipped it back, draining the last dregs of alcohol. “Things change.”

—————————————————————————

Y/N was leaning against the counter of the bar, nursing her beer as she watched her pink friend giggle and murmur sweetly to the black-haired boy dancing with her, the latter’s hands hesitantly gripping her friend’s waist.

“You don’t approve?” A familiar voice rose over the pounding bass of the club music from her side. Y/N didn’t have to turn her head to know who’d sidled up next to her – she would know his blistering heat anywhere.

She tapped her fingers against the sweaty side of her glass. “I just don’t know why he won’t make a move,” Y/N said after a long moment, a frown pulling at the corners of her red-painted lips.

Sanemi followed her line of sight and his mouth pressed into a hard line. “Maybe he wants to, but he thinks it’ll just make things worse.” He said after a moment, voice quiet.

Y/N hummed in disagreement. “He’s making it worse by not doing anything at all – he’s made her think it’s her fault things aren’t working out between them.”

“He doesn’t mean to,” Sanemi offered. “He does care about her. More than she realizes.” He watched as Obanai delicately brushed a strand of Mitsuri’s pink hair from her eyes.

Y/N finally rolled her head to the side to look at him, and idly she wondered if her eyes looked as numb as she felt. “If he did, he wouldn’t keep hurting her; wouldn’t have hurt her to begin with.”

Sanemi stared back at her, and it made her heart squeeze to see the faintest trace of pain in his gaze, even in spite of his small smile. “’S not that simple, though.”

She looked away. “It could’ve been,” Y/N took a long sip of her drink, part of her hoping that he couldn’t catch the jaded edge that crept into her voice. “And now all they know how to do is use one another.”

Sanemi’s gaze upon her was uncomfortable, and not just because it felt like he was stripping down every carefully crafted wall she’d erected around herself during their estrangement. The genuine flash of hurt in his eyes made her feel slick, oily, and so very wrong.

The pair watched as the mismatched couple on the dancefloor swayed together, Obanai’s eyes wide the whole time, as though he could not believe he had the good fortune of holding the beautiful, colorful girl in his arms. Y/N tried to feel happy for her friend, but it was difficult, especially when he knew that the night would inevitably end with Mitsuri in tears, lamenting that her dark-haired lover had yet again insisted he was not good enough for her, and he would leave Y/N to pick up the pieces of her friend’s broken heart.

“They should let themselves try,” Sanemi murmured, bringing Y/N’s attention back to him.

In one smooth gulp, Y/N polished off the rest of her drink, the warm buzz of alcohol loosening her tongue. “Trying is for those who haven’t lost hope.” Y/N squared her shoulders and steeled herself to return to the dancefloor once more. “And Mitsuri is about to learn that lesson.”

Later, just as Y/N predicted, Obanai left but Mitsuri did not go with him. As she wrapped an arm around her crying best friend to steer her out of the club, Y/N looked back to Sanemi, still at the bar, and hoped he could see the I told you so in her eyes.

————————————————————————-

It was July, and Sanemi was getting on her last nerves.

“Y/N, you need to stop,” Sanemi’s voice was gruff as his hand closed over her wrist, restraining her from raising the little violet pill to her lips — her second of the night.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t realize you were my father,” she tried to turn away from him, but he caught her shoulder, wrenching her back around and swatting at the hand clutching her key to euphoria.

“Cut the shit, Y/N.” He ignored the way she glared at him, as she watched her pill bounced to the floor and disappeared. “You’re destroying yourself; you know that?”

Y/N’s blood turned to ice in her veins. “It’s none of your business, Shinazugawa,” and he flinched at her use of his surname. “Why do you even care?”

Sanemi almost looked menacing as he stares at her under the flashing strobes of the Kizuki. “You’re my friend.”

————————————————————————-

“Because Sanemi,” Y/N sniffed, “You’re my friend.”

Though Sanemi’s bandages covered most of his face, he could just make out the teary sincerity in the young girl’s eyes as she squeezed his good hand where it lay against his hospital bed.

At that moment, Sanemi had felt guilty for snapping at his long-time best friend. He’d known that she hadn’t meant any harm when she asked him if the multitude of lacerations that now covered the right side of his body were permanent. But Sanemi had woken up to the news that he and Genya were now all alone in the world, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself; he couldn’t help his need to wallow in the sadness and misery that threatened to suffocate him.

And so, he’d lashed out.

“Tch, who’d wanna be friends with a scarred freak like me?” He snapped back, though the sourness in his gut intensified as the tears slipped faster down Y/N’s cheeks.

“I do,” she insisted. “We’ve been best friends since we were babies.” Amidst the sniffling desperation in her eyes, the first inklings of anger began to shine through. “You can’t just decide to quit being friends! That’s not fair!”

“I don’t care if you have scars!” Y/N’s voice grew more shrill over the slow, steady beeps of the various machines to which Sanemi found himself attached. “I’ve always thought you were…were… pretty!” She sputtered.

For once, Sanemi had been stumped into silence. The young boy found himself suddenly grateful that most of his face was indeed covered by several layers of thick medical gauze, given the way he felt his cheeks heat at Y/N’s furious declaration.

“And I will always want to be your friend!” Y/N finished dramatically, crossing her arms, and flinging herself back in the plastic chair she’d dragged over by his hospital bed.

“All right,” Sanemi murmured, grateful that he could blame the crack in his voice on his impending puberty. “All right. We’re friends.”

“Best friends,” Y/N corrected, though the sparkle had returned to her eyes.

—————————————————————————

Y/N laughed without humor. “You think, because we fuck when we’re high or drunk, that makes us friends?”

Y/N laughed again, and Sanemi’s grip around her wrist tightened. “As I recall, Shinazugawa, it was you who ended our friendship, well before we ever started—” Y/N grimaced. “Whatever this is that we’re doing.”

“We hook up when we’re under the influence. Nothing more.” She finished, coldly.

A flash of hurt flit across his features, almost obscured by the pulsing lights of the club. “I’ve been sober for the last month, Y/N.”

Sanemi’s answer landed harder than she’d anticipated, in no short part because she hadn’t noticed he’d stopped taking Shinobu’s Wisteria, much less stopped drinking while they were all out together. As he said it, however, Y/N recalled the way it had been more than a month since they’d last hooked up at night, with Sanemi responding to her texts only in the morning or early enough in the evening before she’d had the chance to fall under the Wisteria’s magic spell.

In the back of her mind, Y/N knew she should be concerned with the way the Wisteria was beginning to dull her perception and her memory, but she couldn’t find it within her to care at that moment. She only wanted to make the man before her hurt, hurt the way he’d made her hurt for all these months.

But she couldn’t. There were a million insults on her tongue, waiting to be used, and she knew that he could take whatever it was she threw at him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“The sentiment is the same, drunk or sober,” Y/N said, half-heartedly. “We’re not friends. We haven’t been for a long time.”

The pain in Sanemi’s eyes was overshadowed by his own anger, a sure match to her own. “No? So, I’m just a stranger to you, hm?” He took a step closer to her and reached out his hand, gliding it teasingly up her bare arm. “A stranger whom you call and text every day to come and fuck you the way you like it, huh?”

He pulled her close to him, and Y/N let him because he was right, damn him. She craved his touch, his body, more than any tiny purple pill or acidic drink she could spend her money on. She craved him just as surely as she craved air.

But she could not admit that to him, not then, not there. So, Y/N merely breathed, “Yes,” as Sanemi’s hand wrapped under her jaw, his other one tangling in her hair to pull her head back and meet his eyes directly.

Sanemi kissed her, softly, before pulling away to smile ruefully at her. “Then have your pills, Y/N. But you can’t have me, too.”

He released her, and Y/N stepped back, thankful for the dim lighting of the club that concealed her blush. “I don’t need you,” she whispered, though she knew it was a lie. From the look that Sanemi gave her in response, as he retreated towards the bar, she could see he knew it, too.

Y/N sought out Shinobu for another one of her magic pills, but even before she’d allowed it to dissolve on her tongue, Y/N knew something was off. No longer was her world a vibrant array of colors beckoning her to the kaleidoscopic paradise she’d come to love. Instead, the Wisteria crumbled bitterly in her mouth, and no amount of stinging alcohol could chase away its acerbic aftertaste.

She tried to lose herself on the dance floor as she so often did, but it only worsened the sludge that pulsed through her veins.

Beneath the throb of multicolored lights, Y/N felt as though she was suffocating.

Y/N pushed and elbowed her way dizzily through the crush of people on the dance floor, lungs constricting to the point of pain as she struggled to take a breath, her limbs trembling. Her eyes landed on a pair of lilac irises studying her from across the club, and distantly, Y/N noticed how he straightened, his focus lasering in on her as she stumbled towards him.

She couldn’t deny the irony that she was so used to fleeing from him into the sparkling, sweaty array of club-goers, only to find herself desperate to run to him, for safety and comfort, away from the revelers who were suddenly too loud and too close.

He met her halfway, having moved from his place against the bar counter after noticing her distress. With more relief than Y/N knew she should feel, she collapsed against him, grateful for the steely warmth of his arms as they closed protectively around her. In his embrace, she found that she didn’t even mind the way his lips pressed against her damp forehead as he asked whether she was okay.

She wasn’t, and that was his fault to begin with, but he was there, holding her as if she mattered, and Y/N let herself melt.

—————————————————————————

An hour later, she was back in Sanemi’s apartment, crouched over his toilet while the cold tile of his bathroom floor bit into her knees as she heaved up her guts. Sanemi was there, too, seated behind her on the ground while he held her hair in his gentle grip, his free hand rubbing soothing circles into her back.

Between the spasms in her stomach, Y/N wondered if he could see the black sludge of her love for him mixed in with the bile courtesy of Shinobu’s bad Wisteria pill.

————————————————————————-

The next morning, he was yelling at her.

Y/N was confused as to why, exactly, his voice was raised at her, given how gentle he’d been with her the night before; it wasn’t as if she’d been trying to do anything different when he awoke.

She’d just been gathering her things to leave, as she always did. She never stayed after they’d finished, and he knew that — so it wasn’t her fault that he’d woken up and caught her trying to sneak out of his apartment.

“This has gotten out of hand, Y/N. You’re out of control,” Sanemi was blocking his front door, his face hard. If Y/N hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought she saw a hint of concern intermingled with the anger that filled his eyes.

“You were lucky last night that you only had a bad trip — but what if it had been mixed with something? What if Kocho’d made a bad batch?”

Y/N’s head was pounding, and the aftereffects from her the previous night were still echoing through her, twisting her world into something dark.

Sanemi’s raised voice wasn’t helping; not in the slightest.

Y/N felt her hands drift to her head as she covered her ears, her breath quickening as her lungs squeezed and spasmed in her chest.

“Stop,” Y/N pled, but her voice was weak and distant, and utterly drowned out by him.

“You’re killing yourself, don’t you see that?” Sanemi continued hotly. “D’you know how gaunt you look? How frail? This shit is killing you, Y/N.”

“For someone who constantly needs to be in control, you’ve completely lost it.”

“Stop, please, stop,”

“What would your mother think?”

“Stop.” Y/N repeated, and she said it again and again until she was half-screaming it, sobbing as she fell back against the hallway wall of Sanemi’s apartment. Distantly, Y/N recognized she was having a panic attack, and she knew it wasn’t really his fault, but his words had stung nonetheless.

Warm, gentle hands closed around her wrists as Sanemi lowered her hands from her ears and pulled her against his chest.

“Breathe,” he said, hoarsely. “Breathe, Y/N.”

It was too difficult to get a breath down as she gasped against him, his chest bare under the shirt he’d thrown on and failed to button in his haste to stop her before she could run. Beneath the warm skin under her cheek, Sanemi’s heart beat strong and sturdy, a lullaby that soothed the roar in her ears.

“Breathe with me,” Sanemi coaxed, peeling back from her, his hands coming to rest on either side of her head as he pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. He inhaled, deep, for three counts before exhaling, and Y/N found herself falling into sync with him as her erratic heart slowed.

But as the jittery panic beneath her skin eased, a fire ignited in her blood, and suddenly, Y/N found herself boiling with anger.

“How dare you?” She shoved him away harshly, her eyes wild. “Who the fuck gave you the right to bring my mother into this? Don’t act like you suddenly give a shit about her memory.”

Sanemi stumbled back under her push, and he looked remorseful, more guilty than Y/N had ever known him to seem. “Y/N, I –“

“No, shut the fuck up,” She snapped. “I don’t believe you for a second, Sanemi. Not for one fucking second do I believe you care about me or about her at all.”

Y/N paced in front of Sanemi, still situated in front of the only entrance to and exit from his apartment. Fine, if he wanted to keep her in there with him, then he could deal with her rage.

“Not one fucking call,” Y/N began. “Not once did you or Kyojuro bother to check-in. ‘Hey, sorry we haven’t spoken in nine months, but we heard your mom got cancer, and she used to feed us when our parents wouldn’t, so we thought we’d check in and see how she was doing.’” She mimicked, cruelly. “Do you see how fucking simple that could have been?”

Sanemi only stared at her, his eyes an unfathomable mixture of sadness, remorse, and pain.

“But you didn’t,” Y/N said coldly. “You two fucked off and continued your merry little friendship together, so spare me the bullshit.”

“Y/N – Kyojuro cares. I care –“ Sanemi tried, but Y/N cut him off once more.

“Shut the fuck up!” She exploded, her hands flailing in front of her as she tried to push him away from her once more. “You don’t care, you never did! I’m just a warm body for you to fuck and that’s it.”

Y/N finally shoved past him, hand reaching for the door. “Don’t you dare pretend like I mean any more to you than that,” She spat.

She flung his door open, but Sanemi’s hand shot past her, slamming it shut once more. Y/N stood there, facing the door, chest heaving as she struggled to control her anger. “Let me go, Sanemi.” She said stiffly, refusing to turn around, to face him.

Sanemi’s hand found her shoulder and turned her around instead, and before she could blink, his mouth slammed down angrily over hers, his hands gripping her waist tight as his teeth nipped her bottom lip, demanding entry that Y/N couldn’t help but give him.

He was her weakness; always had been, always would be.

Sanemi pressed her against his doorway, a strangled groan tearing from his throat as Y/N palmed him through the sweatpants he’d haphazardly thrown on.

“Y/N,” he groaned as she increased the pressure of her hand slightly, her lips moving to his neck as she licked one of the small scars that lay near his jaw.

“I need you, Sanemi,” She murmured, and Sanemi’s eyes blew wide as he growled, arms locking around her middle as he heaved her up against his door.

Their lips met in a fiery exchange of tongue and teeth, biting, and sucking at the other possessively as they tore each other’s clothes from their body. Y/N ground down against Sanemi’s thick, bare length as it bounced against the underside of her thigh, the slick wet of her heat grazing him and causing him to moan in her ear.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Sanemi growled as he spun them away from the door, guiding them towards his kitchen as he laid her out over his counter, an arm only leaving its position at her waist to clear the assorted mail and spare keys he’d had organized there, letting it all fall to the linoleum floor.

Sanemi’s fingers worked their way between her legs as his lips wrapped around the peak of her breast and sucked, causing Y/N’s back to arch gracefully off the surface of his counter. His thumb stroked her aching bundle of nerves as his index finger swirled around her entrance, teasingly gathering her wetness around the calloused digit, before he sunk it into her, curling it so that he brushed against that sensitive spot on her front wall.

“Sanemi – ah,” she panted as he added yet another finger, her eyes nearly crossing at the sensation of his hand scissoring in and out of her, while his thumb continued to play with her clit. “I can’t wait – please,”

He hesitated for a moment, no doubt fighting every urge to sheathe himself within her heat in a single stroke, but he withdrew his fingers, nodding. With a surprising softness, Sanemi flipped Y/N over, pressing her down against the cool top of his kitchen counter, and used his knee to knock her thighs apart. One hand braced on her hip, the other gripped him at his base as he nudged her opening from behind, Y/N nearly drooled as she felt the hot, flared tip of his cock pressing flush against her entrance, and she rapaciously ground against him, eager to feel him inside of her.

Sanemi gradually eased himself into her wet, aching heat, no doubt taking his time because she’d demanded he take her before properly preparing her. Y/N whimpered at the stretch of her walls around him, as Sanemi groaned, loud and unrestrained, as he sank into her warmth, his chest heaving behind her.

One broad hand slid down the side of her leg, lifting it up to rest on the counter. With one long draw of his hips backwards, nearly withdrawing from her waiting cunt, Sanemi slammed back into her with a force that had her choking for her breath.

Sanemi began to fuck her, and she swore she saw the gates of Heaven.

With every sharp push and pull of his steely length, Y/N felt her eyes roll further back into her skull, as a stream of cries and whimpers poured from her mouth. She was helpless to do anything but push herself back against him as he pounded into her, slamming her back onto his cock over and over, as he moaned and cursed under his breath.

“Fuck,” Sanemi panted in her ear. “Y/N – just stay. With me. Please.”

But Y/N did not answer him; could not, due to the incessant roll of his hips into hers, as Sanemi increased the force with which he thrust into her with every passing second, threatening to snatch every sane thought from her head.

Sanemi pushed her leg further up on his kitchen counter, a hand coming to rest against a cupboard to steady himself as he thrust deeper into her velvet heat.

His lips danced down the back of her neck, biting and sucking. The drive of his hips forced hers to bounce against the counter, the cheap plywood and plaster biting into her hipbones with every impassioned thrust of Sanemi’s cock as he withdrew from her glistening core, only to slam himself back into her.

“Ngh, Sanemi,” Y/N moaned, pushing herself back against him, needing him to go faster, harder, to make her forget all the ways he’d made her feel lonely and unwanted.

He bit down on her shoulder blade as his thrusts grew sloppy. “God, you feel so fuckin’ good for me, baby.”

Y/N was too enthralled by the hurried drag of Sanemi’s length in and out of her desperate cunt to care that he’d referred to her as “baby.” He could call her anything, anything at all, as long as he kept fucking her the way he was, against his kitchen counter.

Sanemi angled his hips and began hammering at the spot deep inside her that had her vision nearly whitening out.

“Fuck, S-Sanemi,” She whined. “I’m gonna cum—.” The ache in her belly flared the way it always did whenever Sanemi brought her close to her end.

“Not yet,” Sanemi groaned, though he found it difficult to keep holding himself back. “Stay with me a little longer, sweetheart.” One hand left its bruising grip on her hip in favor of reaching around her to squeeze at her breasts, as he rolled one of her nipples between his expert fingers.

“I can’t,” Y/N cried, begging. “Sanemi, please, oh please-,”

Sanemi removed his arms from her and brought them to the front of her knees, straightening her legs so they stuck out behind her, one braced on either side of his hips as he increased his rhythm, the loud clap of Y/N’s skin against the counter as he pounded harder into her threatening to drown out her moans.

Once he was sure she would not lower her legs, Sanemi’s hand came down against her backside, smacking her as he bounced her against him.

Y/N cried out in pleasure, beseeching Sanemi to do it again, and he obliged, bringing his hand down against her other cheek as she sobbed. Sanemi hissed as he felt the eager walls of her cunt squeeze him to the point of pain, keeping his bruising length locked within her as he chased his release.

The slight sting of his hand against the sensitive skin of her ass was too much for her to bear; with a keening howl, Y/N shattered around him, Sanemi following suit as his cum shot into her with a force that made him see white, her name the only mantra on his lips.

She was still in the thick of her orgasm when Sanemi abruptly pulled out, his cum dripping from her spasming core and onto the floor beneath them. She didn’t have time to protest, however, as Sanemi dropped to his knees behind her, where she was still spread wide for him, and began to feast upon her, his teeth and lips wrapping around her clit and sucking so hard, she nearly levitated off the counter, her thighs clamping tight around his head.

Y/N could not find it within herself to feel sorry for his neighbors as she screamed his name, her throat burning with the effort as Sanemi hauled her back to her peak and sent her tumbling over it once more, this time stronger than she’d ever felt.

He did not stop; he continued to suck at her through the prolonged waves of her climax, his warm fingers coming to slide into her opening and massage his cum into her quivering walls, making her see stars as his fingertips brushed the spongy part of her innermost wall, her legs spasming around him.

A gush of fluid sprang forth from her, thoroughly coating Sanemi’s face and he groaned with satisfaction, pressing his mouth even harder against her, as though the mixture of his cum with hers was the most intoxicating elixir ever to pass his lips.

Y/N’s pleasure-delirious sobs were muffled against the counter as the aftershock of her successive orgasms wracked through her, her body quivering from the exertion. As the spasms in her cunt subsided, Sanemi finally stepped away, pressing featherlight kisses against her spine, so gentle in contrast with the delightfully brutal way he’d just reminded her that she’d never be able to run away from this – from him.

Sanemi rocked back on his heels, hands braced against the counter as he caught his breath. “Let me clean you up,” he said after a moment, his voice hoarse.

Y/N’s limbs had been reduced to liquid, so she did not complain as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to his bathroom.

He sat her gently on the edge of his tub and moved behind her to turn the water on, holding his fingers under the steady stream until it was hot – just the way he knew she liked it.

“I don’t want to take a fucking bath here,” Y/N snapped, turning to glare at him. “Just give me a towel and be done with it.”

Sanemi recoiled slightly, and it made her chest hurt. “Was – was that okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Only in every way a person could be hurt, but not through his actions in the kitchen. She wanted nothing more than to take his face in her hands and kiss him, to assure him that, at the very least, she’d loved every second of the way he’d spread her across his counter. But the love in Y/N’s heart had turned it into a black, decaying lump, and so, her response only matched her rotten core.

“It was fine – we’re not a fucking couple,” She snatched a washcloth from his hand and shoved it under the faucet, dampening it and then moving to wipe it between her legs. “So, stop trying to act like we are.”

Sanemi stood back, his arms folding across his chest and his expression unreadable. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled after a moment. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

It was the gentleness with which he spoke to her that enraged her even more, even though she knew she was being irrational. “It’s whatever,” she muttered, folding the used washcloth back up and laying it neatly over the edge of the bathtub. “I’ve gotta go.”

Sanemi nodded and left the bathroom, still naked himself, and returned with her discarded clothes and underwear. Once he’d passed them to her, he retreated back to his room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Y/N tried to ignore the guilt in her stomach when he did not emerge to say goodbye, as she opened his front door and disappeared into the mid-day sun.

—————————————————————————

All of her friends were traitors.

Not one of them was in the mood to venture out with her, not even Mitsuri, who was newly in a relationship with Obanai, the moody, awkward boy having finally plucked up the courage to confess his feelings for the bubbly pinkette.

Thus, Mitsuri no longer needed Wisteria or sticky drinks to feel high; she had love.

Y/N was happy for her – really; but she wasn’t happy to lose her reliable going-out friend.

So Y/N was on her own at the Kizuki lounge, though she didn’t really mind all that much. She’d become such a regular in that dark den of iniquity that a few other lost souls recognized her as their own and were only happy to dance with her. Unfortunately, however, Shinobu was nowhere in sight, and thus, Y/N was left utterly without the comforting lull of her friend’s Wisteria.

As Y/N pounded back another round of shots, wincing at the burn of the green apple liquor which slid down her throat, a sultry voice spoke.

“Well, it’s rare to see such a beautiful thing like you alone in a place like this,” Y/N turned and saw a familiar yet unnerving pair of eyes – the same she’d seen a few weeks earlier at the club, the first night she’d danced with Sanemi – blinking at her.

He was familiar – she’d seen him around on campus and knew him to be relatively involved with student life. Y/N scoured her brain, trying to place a name on the white-haired man smiling at her like she was something to be devoured.

“Douma, right?” Y/N recalled, and the man nodded, his smile widening revealing a set of too-sharp canines.

“I’m flattered you know my name,” his voice was almost flirty, if not for the sickeningly sweet edge in it that set the hair on her arms standing. “Though, I only know you as Shinobu’s friend,” he pouted.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You know Shinobu?”

The man with the jewel-colored eyes nodded, smiling dreamily. “Shinobu and I are old friends – business partners, even. And me and her sister go way back.” Douma reached out and toyed with a loose strand of Y/N’s hair, and she fought the urge to shudder. “Tell me your name, gorgeous? I’ve seen you around, though Shinobu always barks before I ever have the chance to talk to you.”

Y/N laughed, softly. “Shinobu’s bark is always worse than her bite, I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Douma leaned in close, and his cologne was strong and sensual in a way that made Y/N’s head feel fogged. “And what about your bite? Surely, someone who hangs around with Shinobu is bound to pack a bit of a punch.”

He knew how to flatter, she’d give him that. “I’m afraid I’m all bark, Douma.” And, because she felt lonely, and because she felt a little desperate, she added, “Though I might be inclined to bite if given the right incentive.”

Douma tipped his head back and laughed, deeply, and it made Y/N’s heart flutter. “You are something, aren’t you, Y/N? I can’t believe your friends would let you wander out by yourself.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, and helped herself to the smiling man’s drink, his grin only widening as she polished off its contents. “I need no babysitter, unfortunately for them.”

“No you do not,” Douma purred. “Well, since you’re a free agent tonight, how about you come by my place? My roommate and I are throwing a huge party – I’d bet nearly half the campus is there already.”

Y/N didn’t doubt it; Douma’s parties were something of a campus legend.

“And, I believe I have something that might make it worth your while,” Douma smirked, pulling a small plastic baggie from his pocket. Within it, sat three of those coveted lilac pills, and Y/N’s mouth watered.

“I think that’s exactly the kind of incentive a girl looks for,” Y/N teased, standing with Douma to leave the Kizuki, the latter’s hand coming to rest on the small of her back. Y/N and Douma chatted animatedly as he led her to his car, and Y/N could almost ignore the unease tugging incessantly in her stomach.

She shook off the feeling. After all, if she squinted hard enough, Douma could almost pass as Sanemi.

—————————————————————————

Kyojuro answered his phone with a noncommittal grunt.

“Akaza?” He said, surprise coloring his features. Sanemi perked up at the name of the boy from their hometown but was filled with unease at the way Kyojuro’s face darkened.

“We’re on our way.” Kyojuro clicked his phone off and met Sanemi’s questioning look.

“You know that party on 52nd? We need to go — now.” Kyojuro was already rising, his wallet and keys in hand.

Sanemi didn’t question his best friend, but his phone dinged in time with Kyojuro’s, and both paled at the text image they’d received from an unknown number, sent to each person in their friend group.

It was an image of Y/N, though only half her face was visible — but it was clear she was crying and she looked fucking terrified. Mascara streaked down her cheeks as she held her arms up protectively in front of her. But those too-thin arms could not obscure the blooded, crescent-shaped bite mark just above her breast.

Shinobuuuu your friend is lovely! The message below the image read.

A second, follow-up message dinged. Next time, fucking pay me, hm?

Kyojuro looked back in horror at his best friend but broke into a cold sweat as he beheld the murderous rage that caused his friend to tremble.

“Let’s go.” It was all the white-haired man said as the pair slammed Kyojuro’s apartment door behind them and head for his car.

—————————————————————————

“There you go, Y/N – you should be safe here until we can get you out, yeah?” The pink-haired man opened a door to a hidden closet behind the stairwell in his private room, one he knew with certainty that Douma knew nothing about. “I called you a ride already.”

Y/N sniffled, wiping at her cheeks as she brushed by the man to sit on a trunk sitting in the closet. “Thank you, Hakuji. I owe you one.”

Akaza smiled and shook his head. He’d always liked Y/N – she was always kind to him growing up, and she was one of the few people to call him by his actual name, rather than that abhorrent nickname that he couldn’t seem to shake.

“Nah, I can’t stand that fucker,” Akaza grimaced, checking behind him to ensure no one had snuck in and found them hiding. “Douma always takes things too far. I try to help when I can, but I don’t have eyes everywhere.” He frowned as he considered her. “I’m just glad I saw him bring you in.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, instead only nodding. Akaza sighed. “I’d better get back to the party. Douma’ll go snooping if he can’t find me and I really don’t want to risk him finding you again.” He began to push the door shut. “This locks from the inside. Don’t open it for anyone else – I’ll come get you when your ride is here.”

Y/N nodded. “Thanks again, Hakuji. Say hi to Koyuki for me the next time you see her.”

Akaza smiled warmly and closed the closet door, sealing Y/N safely within.

————————————————————————-

For Y/N, sitting alone in that cramped, dark closet, it felt like hours had passed since Hakuji had locked her away, out of sight from Douma’s unnerving eyes. Y/N was getting antsy, until the sound of gasps and screams from below set her stomach twisting with panic. She began to hyperventilate when she heard footsteps – two pairs, one heavier than the other – rapidly approaching the closet door as the knob began to twist.

Tears were leaking down her face, hot and fast, as a knock sounded against the door.

“Y/N!” Someone hissed. “It’s me – open the door.” It was not Akaza on the other side, but a much warmer, much more familiar voice that had her nearly sobbing with relief.

With a shaking hand, Y/N flipped the lock and the door swung open, revealing the most comforting presence she’d ever known.

Kyojuro stared at her, a mess on the floor of Hakuji’s closet, his expression unreadable. Leaning towards her, he closed a warm hand gently around her wrist and hauled her to her feet, his eyes running over her as those scanning for injury. His nostrils flared at the small dab of blood that had dried on her shirt, concealing the bruising bite mark below.

Kyojuro’s burning grip remained on her as he led her out of Hakuji’s room – the pink-haired man nodding reassuringly at her as she passed him by. Kyojuro halted at the top of the small staircase to the main floor, an eerie silence interrupted only by an occasional gasp below.

He turned back to Y/N, his face stony. “Don’t look,” he warned. “Keep your eyes forward until we get out of here, no matter what.”

A lump formed in Y/N’s throat as the pair descended the stairs, slowly. They almost made it to the front door, where Y/N could see Kyojuro’s car pulled half-onto the lawn outside, still running, when a strange wet thump snapped Y/N’s attention to the adjacent room where party attendees had been dancing only moments before.

Y/N froze as she took in the crowd, gathered, and parted around two men, hunched on the floor, as they all looked on in stunned horror.

It was Sanemi, with Douma pinned beneath his knees, as he mercilessly pounded his fist into her would-be assailant’s face.

Douma was covered in scarlet, and the swollen features of his face were nearly unrecognizable as Sanemi slammed his knuckles into him, over and over. Douma only wheezed out a laugh, apparently egging Sanemi on.

Y/N parted her mouth in horror, ready to call out for Sanemi to stop, but Kyojuro tugged her sharply through the front door and away from the grisly scene.

“Don’t,” he said, softly. “Let him get it out.”

Kyojuro hauled her to his car, pausing only to open his passenger door before gently pushing her to sit down in the worn seat. Y/N didn’t challenge him as he reached over her and buckled her seatbelt, noting the fire raging in his eyes.

Her friend rejoined her on the driver’s side and pulled roughly out of the yard of Douma’s party house, speeding off down the street. Y/N opened her mouth to speak – to say anything, when Kyojuro held up his hand as his other pulled his phone free from his pocket. He read something on the screen, before clicking it off, returning his eyes to the road.

“It’s Tengen – cops have been called.” He explained, his voice low and face hard.

Y/N swallowed thickly. “Sanemi’s going to get arrested.”

Kyojuro snorted. “If Tengen shows up first, Sanemi will be fine. The cops have been looking to bust Douma for months.” Kyojuro slowed at a stoplight and cut his eyes over to where Y/N sat, curled on his seat, looking so small and so vulnerable.

“Y/N,” his voice possessed a gentleness she didn’t deserve, and it only made her mash her lips together in an effort to keep the tears in her eyes. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

She flinched, folding her arms tight across her chest, the spot where Douma bit her aching. Slowly, the memory of a phone camera flashing in her face, mere seconds before Hakuji had exploded into the room, cursing up a storm at Douma as he’d covered her with a blanket, blitzed out of her mind.

“The photos,” she whispered, hands covering her mouth in horror. “Oh, god –,”

Kyojuro’s hands tightened on his steering wheel, his knuckles white. “Y/N,” his voice cracked, just like her heart. “If you’d rather me call one of the girls, I will --,”

Y/N shook her head, urgently. “No, no, Kyo, he didn’t – he only bit me.”

Kyojuro’s grip on the steering wheel relaxed, though only marginally so. “Only bit you,” he repeated, shaking his head in disgust, that cold rage still pulling at his face, contorting the face she loved into something brutal, violent, and unforgiving.

He looked back at her as she trembled in his passenger seat. “What do you need, Y/N?”

Y/N fought to keep her voice steady. “Can – can you just drive, Kyo? Please?”

He nodded, and the two drove in silence for an hour, her friend randomly getting off and on the interstate as the sights of the city passed them aimlessly by.

Kyojuro abruptly pulled his car over to the side of the road, coming to a stop and slamming it into park, before turning to look at her.

“Y/N,” the sound of his voice was so strangled, so pained, that Y/N couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her face, and into her lap. “What the fuck?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N sobbed quietly into her hands. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, Kyo.” Her vision was completely obscured by the saltwater that would not stop, her breath becoming panicked.

“I don’t even remember fucking it all up. All I know is I was so fucking angry with you two, and now -,” Y/N cut herself off with a hiccup.

“It’s all so fucked,” her breath was choppy as her tears increased, her hands rising to clutch at her chest. “You – you and Sanemi --,”

Kyojuro got out of his car and walked around to her side, opening the door to tug her out of the passenger seat and into his arms, crushing her against his chest.

“Y-you left me,” Y/N sobbed into the thin fabric of his tee shirt. “I needed my friend, and you left me,”

“I know,” Kyojuro’s tears dampened her hair. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“H-how could you do that, to your best friend?” She cried, clutching his shirt in her hands until her knuckles turned white. “You were my brother, Kyojuro.”

“You promised things would be okay, and then they weren’t. And you didn’t even try.” Y/N pushed away from him then, anger burning through the tears in her eyes. “Friends don’t do that; family doesn’t do that.”

Kyojuro looked as broken as she felt. “I broke every promise I made to you, I know,” he said hoarsely. “I swore I wouldn’t let you get too far away --,”

Y/N exploded.

“Get too far away?” She swore at him, hands angrily wiping the salt from her cheeks. “You abandoned me, you left me hung out to dry!”

Y/N’s hands balled to fists at her side, as she shook. “Sanemi at least arguably had an excuse. You had none. Nothing about what I did — what I said — meant I deserved that,” her eyes, angry and broken, met his own teary gaze once more. “I didn’t deserve that.”

“Y/N,” Kyojuro started, but the furious girl cut him off.

“Shut up, Kyojuro,” she snapped, and for once, the flame-haired man looked lost for words. “Do you have any idea what it was like? To watch you and him carry on as though nothing happened – as though I didn’t fucking exist?”

“And when my mom got sick? She used to feed you and your brother, you – you – selfish asshole,” Y/N was nearly hyperventilating in her ire, as twenty-two months of heartache, pain, and rage boiled out of her all at once. “And you couldn’t even check in?”

“I tried,” Kyojuro cut her off, somewhat forcefully, at her last accusation. “I tried to check in, Y/N. During the summer – I saw the ambulance leaving your house, but I couldn’t leave Senjuro by himself.”

“I came by the first thing the next morning, but no one answered. You --,” Kyojuro hesitated. “You must’ve still been at the hospital. I should’ve checked.”

Y/N laughed without humor. “Visiting doesn’t matter. You had a phone. You know how to use it, and you couldn’t send a fucking text.”

The blonde exhaled, and the tiredness on his face softened some part inside of her, made her want to hug him because deep down, she hated that Kyojuro could ever look so worn down.

“Nothing I say is going to make up for it. I know that.” He whispered. “If I could turn back time, I would, Y/N. Please believe me when I say I would.”

Kyojuro dragged a tired hand down his face, smearing the tears across his cheeks as he did so, and he looked toward his old friend, brokenly. “But I’m here now,” He said, pleadingly. “I’m sorry if that’s still not enough; I understand if it isn’t. But please, let me be here for you, now. Even if that means you hate me.”

Y/N did not expect to break so suddenly, but the sight of Kyojuro openly weeping before her, combined with the bruising sincerity of his words, whittled away all of the hardness she’d built up and struck her right in her heart.

“Oh Kyo,” Y/N shuddered a sob, her shoulders shaking under the weight of her tears as Kyojuro stepped forward once more and enveloped her in his arms. “I could never hate you,”

For the first time in nearly two years, Y/N returned Kyojuro’s hug with the same ferocity she once had, and part of her hoped, oh so timidly, that the force with which he embraced her would slowly work to put her back together again – to make her whole.

The two almost siblings melted into one another, each one muttering a litany of I’m sorrys, and I love you‘s. For a long while, the pair stood there, on the side of the road, swaddled in the other’s embrace as they sobbed together, for both the children they once were, and the adults the world had forced them to become.

Eventually, the pair found themselves back in Kyojuro’s car, still driving with no real destination in mind; only this time, the two blasted music from their high school days and loudly sang off-key together, laughing carefree as their broken hearts mended, song by song. They drove until Y/N yawned, and Kyojuro sternly, but teasingly, noted it was well past her bedtime.

“You scare the shit out of him, you know,” Kyojuro said after a long while, eyes still fixed resolutely on the road leading to Y/N’s apartment.

Y/N, who’d been watching the blur of stars in the night sky as they sped down the highway, rolled her head toward him to look at him, her face skeptical. “Sanemi? Sanemi Shinazugawa, scared of me?” She scoffed, turning her attention back to the night sky as it whizzed past her window.

Kyojuro reached for her hand, and Y/N could have cried at how warm and comforting it felt. “He thinks he’s lost you for good. He does regret how things went down, you know; he did from the get-go.”

“I think he’s afraid he’s going to wake up one day and find you’ll just be gone entirely. Completely unreachable.”

Y/N stretched her fingers to play with the series of necklaces Kyojuro had dangling from his rearview mirror, admiring the way they twinkled under the passing streetlights. “He would have to care to be afraid, Kyo, and you and I both know that he doesn’t care about me.” She chewed on her lip. “Not in that way.”

Kyojuro finally pulled to a stop in front of her apartment. He took his time putting his car in park and shutting it off, before turning back to her, his face solemn. “If you can’t see how crazy he is about you, then I don’t know what else I can say.”

The fire in his stare was scorching, and Y/N fidgeted under the intensity of both his gaze and his words. “He barely knows me, Kyo. He doesn’t know what he wants.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Kyojuro said, though not too harshly. “You might want to believe you’re a different person now, but you’re still you. I promise you, you’re still the Y/N we both know – and love.”

Y/N’s tear fell down her cheeks anew, as she’d not realized how badly she needed to hear that she was still herself – that she wasn’t just a shell of the person she once was, never fully present and never fully worth giving a damn about.

“I think you want to believe he doesn’t care because it makes it easier on you to pretend like you’re just using him.” Kyojuro’s words cut through her like a knife.

Y/N winced and opened her mouth to respond, but Kyojuro raised a hand, silencing her.

“I’m not saying you mean to,” Kyojuro’s words stung, but they were earnest. “And I don’t necessarily think you are – but I think you’re running from him, because you are frightened.”

“What would you have me do, Kyo?” Y/N asked, slightly exasperated as her head thudded back against the worn fabric of his car seat.

“Are you still in love with him?” Kyojuro asked, and it took great effort for Y/N not to roll her eyes at him. “Then you must let him in, Y/N. He wants your love – very much so – of that, I’m certain.”

“He has always wanted my love,” Y/N snorted. “He’s like a jealous, possessive dragon that way. The problem is with him returning it.”

Kyojuro sighed, before getting out of his car and rounding to her side, opening her door for her. “As I said before,” he reached a warm hand to muss her hair as she stood, stretching her stiff limbs from the hours they’d spent driving around the city. “If you can’t see how crazy Sanemi is about you, then I can’t help you.”

Kyojuro’s lips pressed against her forehead, warm and steady, and it felt like home. “Give him a chance, Y/N. Let him into your heart, and he will gladly give you his.”

—————————————————————————

After ensuring Y/N was safely inside her apartment, Kyojuro continued to drive for another hour.

The emotions of the night weighed too heavily on his shoulders, and Kyojuro knew going back to his apartment would end in nothing but him tossing for hours in bed, replaying the last conversation with Y/N in his head, over and over.

—————————————————————————

One year earlier

“Where’s your date, Shinazugawa?” Kyojuro chuckled, reaching for a beer. He was disheartened to see that only one was left, Sanemi having finished at least three since arriving at his place.

“Called off,” Sanemi said thickly, his words slightly garbled as he tried to fake his own sobriety – the surest sign he was already drunk off his ass.

Kyojuro clapped his shoulder sympathetically. “You or her?”

Sanemi took another swig of his drink. “Me.” He looked up at his best friend and Kyojuro was shocked to see how forlorn and sad the hothead looked. “None of ‘em are her.”

It was rare that Sanemi brought her up, especially in the wake of everything that had happened after Genya’s death. But Kyojuro hadn’t been foolish enough to think that a substantial part of the chip on Sanemi’s shoulder hadn’t stemmed from his complicated feelings about her – Y/N.

Their best friend, at least, once upon a time.

Though as Kyojuro supposed, it wasn’t as if Sanemi’s feelings about their friend were really all that complicated. He’d known the abrasive loudmouth had longed for the trio’s only girl since any of them had understood what it meant to long for someone.

Kyojuro had seen his friend’s feelings on display countless times since they were teenagers. He saw it in the way Sanemi’s eyes softened every time she smiled at him, or the way Sanemi seemed to always lean into her touch whenever she brushed something from his hair.

Then, there had been that time after Y/N had her braces put in – they’d been around thirteen or so – and she’d refused to smile with her teeth, until Sanemi had snapped at her and said she’d looked constipated.

Y/N’s eyes had filled with tears, and her cheeks had burned with her embarrassment until he’d squatted down in front of her.

“Why’d’ya wanna hide your smile anyways – it’s too pretty.” He’d said, very matter-of-factly, leaning in close to her face as he always did when he teased her. “C’mon, show me! I wanna see your smile!”

Shyly, Y/N had smiled at him, braces and all, and Sanemi had grinned back, nodding in satisfaction. “See? What’d I tell ya? Pretty as a picture.”

Then, there had been their senior prom, when Sanemi had gotten wind of another boy’s plan to ask her to be his date. Though the big dance had still more than six months away, Sanemi had stormed into the cafeteria, plopped down from her as she ate with the Koyuki girl, and demanded she attend with him.

When the night of their prom arrived, Kyojuro thought Sanemi was going to pass out the moment he saw Y/N descend the stars at her mother’s house, dressed in that floor-length emerald dress. Throughout the whole night, Sanemi had treated their best friend as though she were made of glass, his hands for once hesitant and uncertain as he’d found her waist during a slow dance. Kyojuro had truly thought his friends would finally, finally kiss and admit their poorly concealed feelings for one another. But Sanemi had returned Y/N to her mother, the latter only parting with a soft kiss against the flustered boy’s cheek before disappearing inside.

How could they have known that night, just how far they’d all fall? How could they know how Genya’s death would shatter more than his brother, but indelibly fracture their life-long bond and transform them into total strangers?

————————————————————————

Ten months earlier

Kyojuro didn’t mind working for the enrollment center at Ubaya-U.

Sure, the work was a little tedious, if not monotonous, especially at the start of a new semester, but at least that meant his shift passed him by quickly.

That particular day, Kyojuro had been tasked with finalizing the class registers for his year – the juniors – as the add/drop period had finally passed, and thus, schedules were to be finalized for the semester.

He’d spent hours tabbing through page after page of student schedules, entering data and clicking the small arrow at the bottom of his screen to move onto the next student ID number, over and over, until the figures on his computer blurred together. But Kyojuro had finally entered the schedule for the last student, and he was eager to hit “ENTER,” and get the fuck home.

His back aching and wrist cramping, Kyojuro hit the command key that promised release.

ERROR. The screen read. ONE OR MORE ENTRIES MISSING.

“Fuck,” Kyojuro muttered, and he hit the “ENTER” key once more, in hopes that the system had merely hiccupped after having been in use for so long.

The same ERROR message flashed across his screen once more.

Kyojuro exhaled, pinching his nose as his eyes screwed shut in frustration, the beginnings of a headache creeping in around his temples. Shoving himself away from his desk, Kyojuro stood and stalked over to his supervisor, who was just as numbly tabbing through a spreadsheet.

“Murata,” Kyojuro said, trying to keep his growing anger in check. It was a Friday night and he just wanted to go home and do stupid college things, dammit.

The tired shift supervisor grunted in answer, turning in his swivel seat towards the fuming college junior.

“I entered all of the student schedules, but the system is flagging some sort of error.” Kyojuro produced a printed-out spreadsheet of every student ID number and handed it to his manager, who took note of the neat, precise little checkmarks next to every line that signaled Kyojuro had finalized the correlating schedule. “Can you take a look?”

“Sure thing,” even though Kyojuro often thought Murata was, at times, a little inept at his own job, he couldn’t deny the college senior was helpful. Murata pulled up the school’s informatics system and entered his log-in, clicking through various prompts until his screen resembled Kyo’s.

Murata tried to submit the same data that Kyojuro had tried, and the same error message dinged on his screen.

“Huh, that’s odd,” the manager said, unhelpfully. “Let me see if I can use my admin key and find out if there’s anyone you missed.”

Kyojuro resisted the urge to point at his spreadsheet once more; Kyojuro, simply put, never missed an entry when it came to plugging in numbers and codes for work. The same could not be said for Murata.

“Ah, there it is,” to Kyojuro’s surprise, a student profile popped up on Murata’s screen in red, though his supervisor’s head blocked the name. “Number ending in 0851. Let me just –” Murata clicked around the screen and quickly tabbed in a couple of course codes, and hit enter, but the screen erred once more.

“What the – ohhh, I know this number,” Murata said, sitting back in his seat. “Yeah. Okay. You need my code to bypass this one. She got special permission from the university to not finalize her schedule until next week.”

Kyojuro sighed. At least the error hadn’t been on his end.

“Got a pen? You’ll need her name to enter it once the screen prompts you. In the explanation box, just type “special permission/family emergency.”

Kyojuro shook his head. “I’ll remember it. What’s the name?”

“Y/L/N. Y/N.” Murata answered flippantly, though Kyojuro’s stomach lurched. “Yeah, I got an email about her a few weeks ago because she hadn’t returned to campus. The Dean said her mom was in the hospital, and she was the sole caretaker, so her professors all agreed to let her attend online until things mellowed out.”

“Never seen that happen before, she must be one helluva student,” Murata commented as he turned back to Kyojuro. “Hey, in the entry box, put her date of return – I think I remember the email saying it was sometime next month, but let me check.” The supervisor turned back to his screen, blissfully unaware of Kyojuro’s wide eyes or his pounding heart.

“There it is – hm, there’s an update,” Murata remarked, though more to himself than to the pale Junior standing behind him. “Oh my, that’s a shame. Looks like her mom passed away last week, so she’s returning after the funeral, which was --,” Murata squinted. “Yesterday.”

“Yup, seems like she’s due back next week instead. Just put down Monday’s date.” Murata turned back to Kyojuro with a kind smile, but it quickly slipped when he saw the sweat that had broken out across the burly blonde’s forehead and noted the way he shook.

“Rengoku, you good, man?” Murata asked worriedly, though Kyojuro barely heard him over the roaring in his head and the sound of his heart-shattering.

“Y-yeah,” Kyojuro’s voice cracked. “Murata, would you mind entering that information for me? I feel like I’m going to be sick.” Kyojuro did not wait for his supervisor’s answer as he grabbed his backpack and stumbled out of the Student Affairs office, as he fought to keep down the bile that rose in his throat.

Kyojuro did not remember the walk back to his apartment; he remembered only the rush of grief, and crushing sadness, as he recalled the kind woman who’d shown him such love and affection after his own mother died, that he’d thought of her as a second mother.

He thought of Y/N – oh god, Y/N, who now lived in a world in which she had no family left. No home to go back to.

Alone.

He hadn’t known; Sanemi hadn’t known.

Kyojuro stumbled through the front door of his apartment, vaguely noting that Sanemi had already let himself in, and helped himself to whatever was in Kyojuro’s well-stocked refrigerator.

“Man, I’ve had a fuckin day,” Sanemi’s gravelly voice rang over the muted sounds of his television as he chowed down on a helping of sweet potatoes Kyojuro had meal prepped a few days earlier.

“Sanemi,” Kyojuro tried weakly, though Sanemi seemed not to hear him over his own, loud complaining.

“-and four papers, and we’re barely a month into school. I can’t wait to fuckin’ graduate and get the hell out of this place --,”

“Sanemi,” Kyojuro said again, more forcefully that time, cutting his friend’s impassioned rambling off. At the serious, monotonous tone in his best friend’s voice, Sanemi fell silent. “It’s Y/N, she – h-her…”

Kyojuro’s voice wobbled. Sanemi dropped his fork into the plastic container that contained Kyojuro’s food and stared at him, eyes wide, as he sucked his breath through his teeth. Whatever news his friend had to deliver, it would not be good.

“Is – is Y/N okay?” Sanemi asked tentatively, his voice shaking slightly. He felt the color drain from his cheeks as Kyojuro slowly shook his head. As childish as it seemed, Kyojuro wanted to run, because if he did not speak those awful words, then perhaps they would not be real.

“It’s Mrs. Y/L/N – she…she died. Last week. The funeral was yesterday.”

————————————————————————-

Nine months earlier

Sanemi barged into his apartment without knocking, nearly toppling over the coatrack Kyojuro kept in the entryway.

“Shinazugawa,” he’d started to chastise, but fell silent at the look on his best friend’s face, a strange mixture of nausea and despair etched into his features.

“I saw her, Kyo,” Sanemi croaked, pale and shaking as he ripped open Kyojuro’s fridge and grabbed a beer, not bothering to ask as he wrenched the bottle cap off and took a healthy swig.

“Y/N?” Kyojuro’s eyebrows furrowed, as he followed his friend into his sparsely decorated living room, Sanemi shakily sitting on the small sofa, head braced between his hands.

“Did you talk to her? How was she?” Kyojuro pressed, but Sanemi refused to lift his head to meet his eyes.

“I saw her,” Sanemi repeated, his voice trembling almost as badly as his hands. “And I didn’t know it was her.”

Kyojuro shook his head in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean -,”

“I didn’t recognize her, Kyojuro. Not at first,” Sanemi finally looked up and Kyojuro’s stomach twisted at the tears pooling in his friend’s eyes. “How could I not recognize our best friend?”

Kyojuro threw an arm around Sanemi’s shoulders. “It’s been a while,” he said, gruffly, “It’s just been a while since we saw her –.”

“You don’t get it,” Sanemi said, wide-eyed and haunted. “Y/N looks different – she’s so fucking thin, Kyojuro, that I couldn’t recognize her.”

————————————————————————

One month earlier

“So you – you and Y/N,” Kyojuro began, and Sanemi nodded, dragging a hand over his face.

“I am never touching that Wisteria shit again,” the lavender-eyed man vowed, darkly. “I fucking lost control.”

Kyojuro frowned, his stomach shifting uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”

Sanemi flung himself back against the cushion of his sofa, arm draped over his eyes in an attempt to stifle the tears that gathered there. “I fuckin’ hurt her, man.”

The blonde sighed, settling back against the sofa with his friend, thumbs twiddling with a loose string on his shirt. “You didn’t mean to, you know. Sometimes that just – it just happens.”

Trust Sanemi to be this dramatic being Y/N’s first – the man had practically screamed into the phone at him when he’d discovered the small speckle of blood on his sheets and realized that Y/N was nowhere to be found.

Though, Kyojuro never imagined Sanemi would be this frantic about the ordeal.

Sanemi lowered his arm to stare at his best friend, bewildered. “It doesn’t fucking matter,” he ran an anxious hand through his hair. “I can’t fucking trust myself on that shit, and I’ll be damned if I hurt her again.”

“I’m done with it all, Kyojuro,” Sanemi swore once more. “For her, I’m fuckin’ done with it.”

————————————————————————-

Two weeks earlier

Kyojuro jogged to where his friend stood, smoking a cigarette as his eyes scanned over the various food trucks that had gathered on the street near his apartment, considering the wide variety of choices.

“You’re the only person I know who could make that look somewhat appealing,” Kyojuro grumbled as Sanemi took another drag, grinning. Sanemi had quit both alcohol and Wisteria cold turkey but had become such an irritable bitch as he went through withdrawal that Kyojuro had practically begged him to find something to help him take the edge off.

So, Sanemi had traded one vice for another and had taken to smoking, though he could tell his friend hated it. Sanemi hoped that his shakes would soon subside, and he could kick the nasty habit before it became another problem for him to deal with.

“What are you in the mood for?” Sanemi asked as the pair began to leisurely stroll around the crowded plaza. “And don’t say sweet potatoes – we’ve been eating healthy all goddamn week; I need something greasy.”

Kyojuro chuckled. “I’m quite in the mood for a burger if you’re up for it.” He offered and Sanemi nodded in agreement. The pair joined the relatively lengthy queue outside a food truck grill, the scent of charcoal and meat promising to feed their empty bellies.

The pair made small talk as they waited, Sanemi nearly finishing his cigarette in the time it took them to reach the front of the line. Just before they were set to order, Sanemi’s phone dinged in his pocket, and the white-haired man pulled it free, puffing on the last of his cigarette as he did so.

“Ah, shit,” Sanemi sighed, though he did not look particularly crestfallen as he glanced back to his friend. “Sorry, man – duty calls.”

Kyojuro scoffed at his choice of words. “Duty,” he shook his head. “You mean Y/N?”

“You’d feel that way too if you slept around –”

“Yeah, but it’s not just ‘sleeping around’ to you, is it?” Kyojuro asked pointedly, and Sanemi fell silent. “You don’t sleep with anyone else. Does she?”

His friend shook his head. “Nah, we made an agreement – we’re – well, we don’t use condoms,” at the horrified look on Kyojuro’s face, Sanemi blushed. “She’s on birth control! ‘Sides,” Sanemi swallowed, awkwardly. “With all the weight she’s lost, and all the shit she’s been taking, I don’t think it’s likely she could – well, get pregnant.”

Kyojuro pinched his brow between his fingers. “Pregnancy isn’t the only reason to use condoms, you dolt,”

Sanemi harrumphed at him. “Look, I used protection with the other two girls, and I got tested not long after,” Sanemi quickly drew his cigarette back to his mouth, a sure sign of his growing discomfort with the conversation. “And, as Mitsuri so tactfully pointed out, I was her first, so I know she’s clean.”

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Sanemi snapped at the reproachful look in his friend’s owlish gaze. “It feels better, y’know.”

Kyojuro only shook his head. “Why are you doing this to yourself, Sanemi?”

Sanemi looked away from him, shifting awkwardly back and forth on his feet. “You know why, man,” he said quietly, and Kyojuro’s heart clenched.

“Look, I love and worry after Y/N too, but she’s using you --,”

“So what if she is?” Sanemi croaked, taking a harsh drag of his cigarette. “She can use me as much as she wants. I don’t mind.”

Kyojuro’s eyes softened. “Sanemi –”

“At least it means I can keep an eye on her.” Sanemi flicked the dying butt to the ground, crushing it beneath the toe of his boot as he sauntered away, holding his hand up over his shoulder in farewell as he set off back across the lively street.

—————————————————————————

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N dragged herself up the stairs of the apartment she shared with Mitsuri and Shinobu, a tiredness she’d not felt in a long while settling into her weary bones. Her head ached from the strain of the evening, and she knew her eyes were likely red and puffy from the hours of her crying.

Shakily, she slid her key through the lock and opened her front door, quietly relieved at the darkened silence of her apartment, which meant both of her roommates were out.

Closing the door behind her, Y/N slid to the floor in the entryway, and did not move; for a long while, she stared blankly at the dark kitchen before her, her mind replaying her conversation with Kyojuro on a loop, though the mark on her breast, with its pulsing ache, demanded her attention.

With a sigh, Y/N heaved herself up off the kitchen floor and shuffled her way to her room, silently thanking her luck that she’d managed to pull the bedroom with the in-suite bathroom, which meant she could curl up on the floor of her shower for as long as she wanted, without the fear of either of her friends needing the toilet.

Once she’d stripped herself of the evening’s outfit, Y/N inspected the wound on her chest.

It felt worse than it looked. There was a small bit of dried blood around where Douma’s teeth had broken her skin, and the mouth-shaped mark was angry, red, and already a little purple, but from her cursory examination of it, it seemed like the wound was likely to only bruise, and not scar.

It was the unseen wound that concerned her more; the scar that was assuredly left on her heart.

She’d fucked up – badly.

Granted, she knew it wasn’t her fault that Douma had decided to try and do whatever it was he wanted to do with her – she wasn’t going to blame herself for that.

What was her fault was how badly she’d let things spiral out of control; how badly her use of the Wisteria had become. She wasn’t a medical student by any means, but she knew the tell-tale signs of an abuse problem. Y/N would not venture to say she was addicted, but she feared she was well on her way to that path – unless she did something about it right then.

She braced her hands against the cool porcelain of her sink and looked at her reflection, jolting slightly at the face that stared back at her.

She still looked like herself, granted, but there was an unfamiliar hollowness in her cheeks, a vacancy in her slightly over-large eyes that made her uncomfortable. She stretched and winced at the ease with which she could just make out the number of ribs laying beneath her skin.

Sanemi had been right – she’d let things go too far.

As she yanked on the shower nozzle to summon the water to chase away Douma’s sickening touch from her skin, Y/N resolved, right there, that she was done with Wisteria. She thought she should be done with alcohol as well, but she feared the symptoms of withdrawal – especially with how great her dependency on the two substances had grown over the last few months.

So, Y/N decided that she would never again allow those toxic little purple pills pass her lips, and slowly – but surely – wean herself off alcohol. She would not go back to the Kizuki, would not let herself give in to the temptations which flashed underneath the colorful strobe lights of the dance floor.

Her life, it appeared, depended upon it.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #demon slayer smut #kny smut #sanemi x reader #sanemi x y/n #shinazugawa sanemi #kny sanemi #kny sanemi smut #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #hashira #hashira smut #demon slayer fic #demon slayer fanfic #sanemi smut #sanemi x you

603 notes · View notes

sft-chrry · 11 months

Text

where’s our kid?

pairings: y. tsugikuni, m. kanroji, s. shinazugawa, k. tanjiro x fem!reader (separately)

contains: reader got burn (yoriichi), baby got sunburned (sanemi)

a/n: i made this at 1 am so if there are mistakes forgive me huhu. i also used a wheel to decide which character should i use lol

y. tsugikuni

• he was so tired of slaying demons that he didn't hear you say “can you watch over (c/n)?”

• as he went drift to sleep he felt you getting close to him

• he was expecting a “hello my love lets sleep together” but he got a “yoriichi where’s our child?!”

• he got up so quick that his back cracked

• he looked at you and asked why were you asking him and you said that he was supposed to watch over since you were cooking something and (c/n) was not behaving

• you were panicking because you didn’t know what to do

• you’re still cooking and if you went to look for (c/n) your lunch might get burnt so you left that job to yoriichi

• now you're panicking and cooking which is not a great combo for you! so you ended up burning yourself once

• good thing he found his child before you kill him with chopsticks

m. kanroji

• you two were sleeping together with your child in between the both of you

• when you shifted your body towards mitsuri you knew there was something missing

• so you woke up and saw mitsuri literally next to you

• you really thought you had squished your baby with your body causing you to scream

• and causing mitsuri to scream

• and causing the baby to cry

• you instantly go get to pick your baby which is near mitsuri’s closet leaving a confused mitsuri on your futon

• as you calmed down your child you looked at your partner and she was looking at you confused

• you explained to her that you thought that you squished you baby and that's why you screamed

• you two ended up cuddling

• that's when you both decided that the baby starts sleeping on its designated bed

s. shinazugawa

• you were grocery shopping and sanemis home with your child

• he was watching (c/n) play with its toys so he just let them do its thing

• then he remembered that he needed to clean his katana because he's a clean freak sometimes

• so he kinda forgot that he had a child to look after

• when you went home you saw sanemi with wet hair so you assumed he took a bath with your child

• but then you didn't saw (c/n) anywhere so you asked your husband “wheres (c/n)?”

• his eyes widened and you knew he didn’t know

• he tried laughing it off and then sanemi ran outside where your child was

• when you catched up to him, you saw your child

• who just got sunburnt

• it was very obvious that it got sunburnt

• so when you tried to pick them up they cried

• you cut some aloe vera since you also have sensitive skin and rubbed it at your child

• when your child drifted to sleep, you began scolding your husband

k. tanjiro (aged up)

• it was a daddy daughter/son date for the two of them

• of course you were fine with it since your 4 year old child didn’t get to spend time with their father

• so when they got home they saw you sleeping

• they didn’t want to disturb you so they showered quietly and slept next to you

•when you woke up in the middle of the night you saw tanjiro but you didn’t see your child

• you had to say tanjiro 7 times for him to wake up he did not woke up to you saying tanjiro, he woke up because you covered his nose

• he was confused and said that she was besides you

• when you told him that they were not there he got up and looked for them

• it didn’t take long since tanjiro has a keen sense of smell but that didn’t stop him from overthinking that a demon got his child

• when he got back he told you that they were just sleepwalking and went back to sleep

🍒 reblogs and notes are appreciated !

🍒 sft-chrry 2023

#rii’s hc #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #yoriichi x reader #yoriichi tsugikuni x reader #mitsuri x reader #mitsuri kanroji x reader #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #headcanon #fluff #yoriichi fluff #mitsuri fluff #sanemi fluff #tanjiro fluff

700 notes · View notes

mamayan · 6 months

Text

★Good Boy☆

Sub! Genya Shinazugawa x Soft Dom! Reader

cw: Soft Dom! Reader • Fem! Reader Coded • Sub! Genya • Fluff • Mild Angst • Hand Job (M) • Mild Teasing • Mild Overstimulation • Praise • Fingering (M) • Oral (M)

wc: 3k+

A/N: He is an angel, no one can convince me otherwise—

“Can I…?” You turned to see your sweet lover standing in the entrance of the shoji, handsome as always but wearing an unusual nervous expression.

You cock a brow expectantly, smile curving your lips. “Can you what, Genya?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone which makes him purse his lips, pale skin beginning to flush red.

“T-Tanjiro was the one to bring it up, okay? I-I wasn’t listening to anything weird, alright?” His immediately defensive words before he’d even asked permission was a telling sign for you as interest sparked in your eyes. That made him even more nervous, but the sight of you sitting and being so patient made it even more difficult for him not to ask.

“Alright Genya, I understand. Now go ahead and tell me.” You weren’t asking, but your tone hadn’t changed. It didn’t matter though, as Genya immediately spit it out at your command.

“C-Can I lay my head on your l-lap?!” He’d all but screamed it. Panting as if it’d taken an incredible amount of effort to speak the sentence, the demon slayer with physical abilities that few could contend with appeared all but starved for oxygen. Those wide dark amethyst eyes are bloodshot and a little teary at the edges as he stared fervently at you.

“Yes?” You’d expected something different. Less innocent at least.

His face lights up though, and it makes any disappointment dissolve in the face of such a gorgeous display of happiness. His sweet smile and flushed cheeks make you coo, shifting yourself to sit in a more formal position as he scurries and secures a spot on your thighs with his head.

He lays himself almost stiffly on your lap, his large body frozen as if you’d change your mind if he were to move too much. You chuckle in amusement, his eyes flicking up to where you leaned over him. “Relax sweet boy, close your eyes.” He was too cute to deny right now, especially as he obeys with almost too much enthusiasm and tightly shuts his eyes with more concentration than necessary. You help him out, smoothing your hand lightly over his face, trailing down his cheeks and jaw with a feather light touch. He’s stuck between feeling like wanting to claw out of his own skin and melting in it. Your soft touch leaves him vulnerable, but as does the position which situates you over him, almost like he’s being protected. Genya ponders the last time he’s felt safe like this, but thoughts of his family and Sanemi hurt his chest too much to dwell long on, so he enjoys the fluffy feeling beginning to consume him and his mind.

“How was your day, my love?” He hates how much he adores your sweet names for him. As if each one is a balm to soothe his frayed nerves for each time he’s been hurt or insulted. He’s unable to deny a single request or command from you, nor does he particularly want to either. “I trained with Tanjiro, the dumb guy. He keeps getting stronger, while I’m just…” he grits his teeth, words not coming as easily as he tries to formulate the correct words which would describe his own inferiority to Tanjiro—

“Just what?” You goad.

“While I’m just me,” he doesn’t look at you anymore, eyes focused on the other end of the room as if his greatest enemy stands like a ghost in the corner. “I’m just me, I don’t have any cool ancestors or fancy breathing styles, I ain’t like ‘Nemi—,” you gently tilt his face back up towards you, eyes so warm he stutters on his words and stops entirely. How could you look at him like that? When he’s like this?

“You don’t need to be like him though, do you? You’re perfect just the way you are, sweet boy. Have I not shown you already? Your effort, your strength, your perseverance… they’re all yours, right?” His breathing nearly halts, so focused on your words he feels himself going light headed, “Focus on what you can do and focus on coming back to me. Isn’t that enough?” A single tear slides down his cheek, gaze blurry with the ones unshed as his chest fills with adoration and admiration for you.

“Don’t cry ‘Nya, I haven’t even done anything yet,” your teasing words make him flush deeper, the innuendo not lost on him despite his embarrassment.

“I-I ain’t cryin’!” He flinches as you inflict a small pinch to his cheek, “Sorry…” he apologizes quickly for yelling.

“Why are you embarrassed? Don’t you like when I play with you?” He wants to melt into the floor, but he’s trapped by the soft pillow of your thighs beneath his head and neck. Of course he liked it, he loved it even, but admitting it aloud was the most difficult for him. His silent trembling and watery gaze weren’t convincing enough apparently. Your hand leaves his soft tresses, smoothing down his neck and onto his chest where he tenses under the delicate pressure.

“That’s too bad ‘Nya, I really want to play with you now but… since you don’t like it, I won’t force you.” He nearly jolts up, but halts in fear of damaging your hand in his carelessness, instead panicking.

“N-no! I like it! I really, really like it,” his honest declarations are the easiest to achieve when he’s not given time to think of some crass response or lie, “Y-you always make me feel, well, good, really good,” he looks ready to burst, his cute expression almost too much for you as you withhold your laughter.

“Oh…? What do you like best then, sweet boy?” You knew he was close to his verbal limit, but to not push him until he couldn’t take anymore would be a waste since he so sweetly offered himself up like this.

Genya choked as your hand drifted lower, unable to control his body even with deep breathing as his pants began to feel tighter.

“I like… when you touch me, like this,” it feels like his throat is closing up. Your sweet hum of affirmation and your hand drifting lower was incentive enough to keep going. “When you—fuck,” his eyes nearly roll back just from you teasing the edges of his belt line.

“Finish your sentence, or we can stop here.”

“Wh-when you touch my cock—,” he looks like a boiled octopus, so red and flustered as he twitches helplessly beneath your hand. His eyes meet your own, as if asking if that was the right answer to get what he wants, no, needs from you.

He feels almost betrayed when you only lightly skim his stiff cock with the tips of your fingers, smile still in place as he gasps and jerks despite the minimal stimulation.

“I’m touching it, baby. Just how you like,” he wished you’d end the teasing, weak to your voice and touch as he grows closer to his breaking point.

“M-more please, like you usually do—,” his tone is getting whinier and more desperate.

“How do I usually do it…?” You drag one finger just up to the tip, chuckling as his hips hump uselessly up for even a tiny bit more friction. You deny him of course, playing dumb while dragging your finger around the opening where pre-cum was already pearling up.

He huffs, a light moan being drawn when you press down on his opening. “Y-you grip it, fuck, my cock—please, I-I need you,” there it was, your smile widens as tears spill freely, his eyes finally losing their defiance and cocky attitude in favor of showing you the sweet softness he holds beneath the surface just for you.

“There’s my sweet boy, I was wondering where’d you been~” you coo and give in finally, curling your fingers around his poor leaking cock and tightening until his breath became lodged in his throat and his body stiffened. “My sweet boy always tells me what he wants, doesn’t he?” You give no warning, only jerking him harshly and quickly, loving the way his eyes flash with pleasure and trepidation. Genya can’t speak anymore, only choked gasps and moans escaping as you drive him towards a quick and viscious end, back arching up, head pressing deeper into your thighs. “Wa—ngh—c-cum—please, I—!” Drool slides down the corner of his mouth as he brokenly begs for permission.

“Of course you can cum, sweet boy. Make a mess for me, ‘Nya” and he does, the vigorous stimulation right after being teased has him tumbling down the cliff’s edge as he shoots ropes of thick hot cum all over your hand inside his pants.

“Ah—!” He always cums with such emotion you can help but lean deeper and swallow his cries, tongue easily invading his mouth and tasting the sweets he likely shared with Tanjiro earlier.

He jerks as you continue your fast and unending pace, hand able to work him easier now that his cum has lubed himself up.

“S’too much—!” He can only cry against your lips, clearly becoming overwhelmed and overstimulated but you merely hush him with another kiss as he’s forced to cum again, though much less coming out but not at the cost of pleasure as his mind goes completely blank as pain bleeds into the orgasm.

When you pull away, he’s left as a true mess on your lap, dazed expression languid and body completely pliant now.

As a slayer, he’s quick to recover, eyes lazily tracking your hand coming out of his pants, sticky with his release as you bring it to your lips and make a show of licking it up.

When his cock jumps to life again under the lewd display, you happily share in the experience and press two fingers against his lips.

He doesn’t even think as he parts them, your fingers pressing in and forcing his own release inside his mouth. He cleans your fingers eagerly, less shy now and with vigor.

“Good boy, ‘Nya, clean them good, okay? Get them nice and wet, I plan to fuck your ass with them.” He nearly passes out at your vulgar language, face becoming completely molten as you work your fingers around in his mouth, rubbing against his tongue while his eyelids grow heavy. “Does that sound nice? Do you want that, Genya?” The use of his full name lets him know he needs to answer or you’ll stop. You pull your fingers away so he can speak.

“Yes, yes please, I-I want that.” He doesn’t hesitate, knowing full well you can and will deny him if he’s slow to reply. You smile and plunge your fingers back into his mouth, swirling them a bit and even intentionally poking a little too deep to see his eyes water. “Such a good boy, my good boy,” you murmur, and his heart swells at your claiming of him.

Once you’re satisfied, you pull them free with an audible pop, saliva nicely coating them while Genya sits up, expression akin to a puppy eager to please its master for a treat.

“Strip and lay down for me,” you order softly, voice never rising but command firm all the same. It sends shivers down his spine, the ability to completely let his guard down and let you make the decisions for him, let you lead him because without a doubt he trusts you.

“Slow down,” you chuckle and tell him, slowing his violently fast movements to strip into a more normal pace so you can watch his skin be revealed like a present being unwrapped. He’s scarred, a physical reminder he’s survived, but not without cost and pain. His sinewy muscles are revealed as he folds and sets aside his top like you enjoy, his upper body bare, pale skin tinged pink like his face, veins bulging out as he trembles under your stare. He’s embarrassed and aroused, painfully aroused, but it wasn’t anything new in your presence. You set him on fire, made him melt into a puddle. He’s trembling even as he stands and pulls his pants down, adorable white underwear stained and soaked from his earlier release, his cute cock smacking against his skin with a wet noise as he pulls them down and releases it.

Down his lithe muscular legs, Genya fully undresses for you, obeying and sitting back down on the tatami mat below and letting his body lay out.

“So good for me, knees up and legs spread baby,” you coo, kneeling down as well after removing a few layers yourself. He’s star struck, eyes unable to look away from your perfect figure he very much wishes to worship, licking his drying lips in anticipation.

He stays as still as possible, only twitching a little as you blow cool air on the dark reddened tip of his plush cock, the leaking tip mostly hidden by his foreskin. “Keep your eyes on me, okay? If you look away, I’ll stop.” His pupils dilate, watching as you pull his foreskin down and reveal the sensitive tip, tongue slipping out to lick him. He’s panting and you’ve hardly even begun, hands clenched in shaky fists, nails digging into his skin as he struggles to keep his eyes locked with yours as you slowly open your mouth and let a glob of spit roll down his shaft. He wants to burst, ready to cum again by sight alone but he doubts you’ll give him permission to cum before you’ve had your fill yet.

Then he feels the cool wet sensation on the tight ring of muscle below, his balls drawing up as you gently prod with a single digit until he breathes out and relaxes, earning a smile from you as your finger slips inside of him. It doesn’t even burn, only a slightly alien sensation at first as you gradually wiggle and stretch his hole, pad of your finger lightly grazing his prostate.His eyes roll back as a loud moan escapes him, hips jerking up and smearing a line of pre-cum across your lips and cheek as he stutters.

It’s too late when you completely pull away, finger leaving him as well as you sit back patiently. His eyes went wide with panic, “N-no wait—! I-I’m sorry, please, Y/N, I’ll be good, please,” his desperate little pleas tumbling out freely. “I’m not upset ‘Nya, my good boy, I just need you to look at me baby, you can be good and do that right?” He’s nodding before you even finish, a pretty flutter of dark hair moving where his mohawk rests. “Be good, I’ll be good,” he affirms, eyes so serious and strained you giggle, moving back again to his cock twitching desperately for any attention you’re willing to give it.

Genya gasps in shock as you give him two fingers this time, his ass stretching just enough for a tiny burn before it fades as you lock your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue under the skin around his tip. His eyes water, unblinking as they look at you, and you’re blessed with the sight of them finally falling as he grits his teeth and whines for you. Your fingers prod and brush his prostate, warm tongue so gentle and sweet compared to your calculated thrusts into his hole, his whines becoming delirious moans while he pants and drools, face fucked out and so cute you can’t help taking more of his cock into your mouth. He feels so good, a building thrum of pleasure swirling from both his cock and ass it’s turning his brain to mush.

“I-I need, please may I, Y/N—!” He howls your name, one eye nearly closing but he holds strong when you suck particularly hard on him. “May I cum, fuck, please, please I need—!” Tears flow freely now, his dark purple eyes reddened on the corners as they spill down his cheeks while his hips thrust up begging for release.

You pull off with a pop, free hand working his cock still just like before as he grunts almost as if in pain but you know he’s simply holding on by a thread.

“Cum for me ‘Nya, let go baby,” you encourage, and he does. Unable to deny you a single thing and truly unable to stop the white hot pleasure which rips through him as his cock twitches and spurts his hot load. You open your lips, catching his cum in your mouth as he gasps and writhes below, sweet moans and whines filling the space as you gently work him down. You pull your fingers free at last, his tight ring twitching too as you do.

He’s left a sweaty satiated mess when you pull up, easily crawling over him and slotting your lips against his. Genya opens, groaning as you push his cum into his mouth, his salty sweet taste now filling his senses along with the taste of you.

You kiss him with all the love you feel, only pulling away when you need the air finally, adoration and awe covering your slayer’s cute face.

“I love you,” he looks so vulnerable saying it, as if you rejecting him might destroy his fragile heart.

You’d never do such a thing though.

“I love you too, my sweet boy, my Genya,” and he’s gone as you affirm his love. As you claim him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, and we can have dinner.” Your aftercare is nothing short of perfection, and while he’s shy in receiving such tender care and love he’s been deprived of so long, he’s unable to deny how lovely it is to be cherished like this. He might still not be on the best of terms with his brother, but he knows a safe space will always remain in your arms.

“Y/N…,” you look up, his eyes shining with tears again but this time his smile is filled with gratitude. “Thank you,” his voice is hoarse, but you laugh, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your chest as you kiss his head.

Dividers by/@cafekitsune

#Sub! Genya Shinazugawa #soft dom! reader #I’m a sap I know #He’s too cute though #I wanna peg him too lol #dom! reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny smut #genya shinazugawa #genya smut #Genya Shinazugawa x reader #Genya Shinazugawa x reader smut #kny Genya #kny Genya smut #kny Genya x reader smut #demon slayer smut

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zikkytheblicky · 3 months

Text

♡︎ you can call me zikky or any pet names if you prefer. I’m black and Jamaican— pronouns are he/him/they/them/theirs i’m transgender and bisexual !!

(REMAKE.)

⊹ FANDOMS ⊹

ও jjk (satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji zen’in, yuta okkutsu, kenjaku as geto, ryomen sukuna, masamichi yaga, kiyotaka ijichi, toge inumaki, aoi todo)

ꔛ csm (denji, aki hayakawa, kishibe, hirofumi yoshida, young kishibe)

✧ hazbin hotel (alastor, lucifer, angel dust, husk, sir pentious, vox.)

✦ astv (miles 42, hobie, miguel o’hara, spider noir)

⊹ demon slayer (tanjiro kamado, kyojuro rengoku, inosuke hashibara, sanemi shinazugawa, tengen uzui, giyu tomioka, obanai iguro, gyomei himejima, kokushibo, muzan kibutsuji, akaza, kagaya ubuyashiki, doma, gyutaro)

★ kpop groups (stray kids n SEVENTEEN)

(such little fandoms ik!! i don’t watch a lot of things/remember what i watch , sorry !!)

⊹ DNI LIST ⊹

-homophobes, transphobes, racists, antisemitics, zionists, trolls, isnotreal supporters, dsmp stans/fans, female readers (this includes SHE/THEY, SHE/HER, SHE/XE/THEY, etc.), people who sexualize itadori, sexists, pedophiles, rapists, sex offenders.

⊹ i WILL write

black male reader

feminine t!m/m reader chubby black male reader

trans black male reader

trans chubby black male reader

pre top surgery black male reader

pre top surgery chubby black male reader

pre bottom surgery black male reader

pre bottom surgery chubby black male reader

male reader

chubby male reader

Pre top surgery male reader

pre top surgery chubby male reader

pre bottom surgery male reader

pre bottom surgery chubby male reader

submissive t!m/m reader

switch t!m/m reader

feminine t!m/m reader

any kink besides body fluid ones and foot fetish

gay t!m/m reader

sugar daddy x sugar bby trope

any trope really except for those cringe ones like golden retriever x black cat idk those are just.. uhm. like just say introverted x extroverted trope if you really want that one!! (My op sorry.)

pet names , i love them. Except for those really.. cringe ones like "my little sugar waffle! " stop it. I will use different language ones too depending on the characters nationality.

fluff

smut

“ crack “

t!m/m reader with a core/style (any types of cores like aaliyah core for ex).

WILL NOT WRITE ⊹

any kink involving body fluids or foot fetish.

HEAVY angst (r@pe, HEAVY abuse, etc.)

m preg. Like i'll do the getting cummed inside of part but not the giving birth.. having kids.. like no sorry!! ( it makes me uncomfortable. )

mahito.

aged up characters

minors

fem readers (you guys tons of stories you'll be ok twin.)

✧ Thats it really i'll probs add more tho !!

⊹ i write in lowercase on purpose !! and sometimes space my punctuation (like this !! or this , or this . but i rarely space the period.)⊹

☆ if you’re black reader please inform about ur hairstyle/texture !! i don’t wanna accidentally just use the wrong hair texture/hair styler for you 💓.

request status: open ! ⊹

#male reader #x male reader #ftm reader #hazbin hotel #gender neutral reader #gn reader #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #black male reader #black ftm #chainsaw man #gay #astv #cod x male reader #gojo satoru x male reader #könig x male reader #ghost x male reader #angel dust x male reader

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thecuriousquest · 5 months

Note

B (brand) with yandere sanemi x shy reader ?

The Wind Pillar’s Tsuguko

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, possessive tendencies, controlling tendencies, jealousy, dominant behavior, FULLY CONSENSUAL SEX, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, branding (by sword), blood, spanking threat, minor spanking, nipple play, nudity, coming on someone

Request: “I will engrave myself into your very being.”

Note: You didn’t tell me if you wanted NSFW, SFW, or Platonic Yandere, so I’m doing NSFW because this sounds like a sexy prompt.

Yandere Alphabet Prompt List

Master List

Request Rules

—————————————————————————

As his Tsuguko, you’re expected to train with him for a large portion of the day. Today is a regular day, a fair morning with not too much going on. You meet with Sanemi, sword on your hip, hair pushed back how you usually like it when you’re doing heavy exercises.

“Hello, Mr. Shinazugawa…” You greet him with your eyes cast downwards. You play with your sword’s hilt, acting like you’re looking at something so that you don’t have to look at him.

You’ve never been able to bring yourself to look him in the eyes for more than a few seconds. Even when you’re in trouble and he has to grip your chin to make you face him, you always end up looking anywhere else but him.

He’ll never admit it, but your timid nature is what drew him in so close like a pheromone.

Sanemi can’t help how the corner of his lips tug upwards. You’re just so adorable, like a little mouse.

“We’re going over defensive techniques today. Have you been working on your breathing?”

You nod instead of giving him a verbal confirmation. It’s not that you hate talking, not exactly. You’re more of a listener. It’s just that when someone looks at you, it makes you want to crawl under a rock, wait for night to fall, and then run to your room and hide under the covers.

Honestly, how have you made it this far in life?

“SANEMI!”

You both look in the direction of the booming voice. Kyojiru strides over to the both of you with that great smile plastered on his face.

“It’s a lovely morning, Sanemi! I see you’re training with your Tsuguko! How are you, young lady?”

You can’t help but hold your bicep, pressing your nails into supple flesh. It creates a canvas of half moons as your eyes fixate on your shoes.

“Hi…Mr. Rengoku. I- I’m okay…thanks.”

“I’m off for a mission! Have a good day, Sanemi. Take care, Y/N!”

His exclamation startles you. By the time you look up, he’s already gone.

What you miss is the way the wind Hashira clenches his teeth at you as you turn your attention away from him.

Sanemi walks towards the training grounds, and you quickly walk after him. You watch as he pulls his sword out, whirling on you without a word indicating the start of your lesson. You immediately block and parry his attack.

“M-Mr. Shinazugawa! Wait!”

“A demon wouldn’t wait. Fight!”

You regulate your breathing, focusing on your wind technique. Concentrating on formations while being attacked has never been your forte, and while Sanemi knows this, he seems to be taking advantage of your weakness right now.

As he runs you down with his sword, he uses his first formation on you. He knocks you on your ass, lunges at you, and swipes the tips of his sword along your thigh.

You watch the blood spilling from that singular slit in your flesh.

“A demon won’t stop when you’re bleeding. Actually, it’ll just make the bastard want to eat you even more,” your teacher reminds you with his back to you.

He turns to you, eyeing you sharply, so you fix your gaze on the dirt beneath you as your blood drips onto the earth.

“Get up, and start using your damn technique,” he pulls you up by your arm none too gently, letting his fingers squeeze just above your elbow before letting go.

As training continues, Sanemi cuts slit after slit into your thigh. You stifle each and every cry of pain. You can’t help but notice he’s keeping his physical attacks on a very specific area of your body.

When the day comes to an end, and you’re in your room in Sanemi’s mansion, you take a good look at your thigh. There’s a large ‘S’ cut into your body, and you can’t help your wide eyes.

You hear banging on your door, and you’re not quick enough to adjust your pants or tell him to wait. The door opens, and you lock eyes with your teacher. You’re horrified that he’s seeing you in your state of undress.

Hands rush to preserve your modesty as you bend slightly to keep him from seeing anything, pressing your thighs together.

“Mr. Shinazugawa! Please, I wasn’t…why didn’t you wait?!”

He simply chuckles and walks in, shutting the door behind himself. The Wind Pillar sets down a bottle of disinfectant along with gauze and a towel on your bed. He walks over to you, pulling you in close by your hips.

“I didn’t know you had such nice curves.”

You don’t think your face could get any hotter than it is right now. You feel as though Mr. Rengoku has used his breathing technique on you, and you want to curl up and die as you keep your hands against your mound.

“Hiding a body like that from me underneath all those baggy clothes and kimonos. You oughta be ashamed of yourself, kid.”

With his hands on your hips, he pushes you towards your bed. You stumble backwards until the pits of your knees hit the bed. Falling on your back, you sit up on your elbows.

Your teacher now stands between your spread legs.

Without thinking much, you squeeze your knees together.

“Mr. Shinazugawa, what’s going on?”

“Come on. Lift your arms up.”

Biting your lip, you choose to obey. With hands above your head, he takes your kimono and shirt off.

You thought your face couldn’t heat up anymore earlier. Now, your cheeks feel akin to an inferno as your tits pop free of your uniform.

“Hmmm…no injuries other than the one on your thigh.” His pointer finger grazes the area he carved his sword into. “I’m sure your ass is pretty bruised from how many times I knocked you on it. Why don’t you turn over and show me?”

Feeling warmth gather not only in your blazing face, but also between your thighs, you squirm to relieve a little bit of the stress budding in your clit. You hope that he thinks you’re just nervous. You really hope he doesn’t catch onto what you’re doing.

You roll over for Sanemi, still squeezing your thighs together, still feeling the throbbing sensation in your walls.

Oh fuck, you’re in so much trouble right now.

Sanemi can’t help himself. He caresses the soft hills of your ass, sporting soft violet and navy bruises from falling so much earlier.

“Rengoku shouldn’t have been running his mouth with you so much.”

Your head perks up. “Huh?”

“Shouldn’t have been acting so friendly with you. Fucking talking to you like you’re his. You know you don’t belong to him.”

He nudges his way between your thighs and can’t help the smirk upon seeing your glistening pussy.

“You know who you belong to. You know who owns you. I don’t have to mark you up to show you that. You know better.”

His fingers gather up your juices, curling inside of you, pumping in and out of you at a furious pace.

“And you know better than to act like such a slut with him. Fuck, if you ever…if you ever so much as even tell him ‘hello’, I will take a switch to your ass. Got it?”

You hump into the bed, stimulating your clit as his digits control you.

“Yes, Mr. Shinazugawa! I understand!”

Wet enough for him, he pulls his hard cock free from his uniform. Sanemi nests himself inside of you, plummeting deeply, harshly, punishingly. He takes hold of your hair and fucks into you, hips bucking.

You mewl on his cock, whining for more.

“Please, Mr. Shinazugawa! I won’t be bad again!”

“You were such a bad girl. Such a fucking bad girl.”

Pouting from his statement, you huff. As he continues to drive forward into you, he toys with you by hitting your come spot only to change angles and stay away from it.

“You’re so mean!” you shout as you stomp your foot.

“Yeah, and you’re a fucking brat.” He sinks his teeth into your neck.

Sanemi’s hand comes down sharply on your upturned ass, one smack after another. Yipping with each onslaught of his palm, you can’t help but arch your back and raise your hips up.

The Hashira slides his hand beneath you, feeling and tweaking your nipples with every thrust of his hips. You can’t take all of the stimulation anymore. The nipple play, the length of his cock, the burn in your backside, the wriggling of your clit against the mattress.

It all ends for you when he goes back to hitting the soft bead embedded in your walls. Your mind goes fuzzy as your lids slowly close, and you fall limp against the bed, breathing heavily into your folded arms.

The Wind Pillar gathers your leg up, hooking it behind him so that he can penetrate you even deeper. He moans your name, elongating the syllables. His voice dripping like droplets of honey from a hive.

Pulling away from you, Sanemi pumps his cock, releasing himself all over your back. He stands tall, letting go of your leg. The scarred man sits down beside you and rests a hand on the back of your neck.

“Don’t let me catch you talking with Rengoku again. I will engrave myself into your very being if that’s what it takes to get it through your fucking skull that you’re mine.”

Taking some time to recover, you finally pick your head up enough to nod and answer him clearly. “Yes, Mr. Shinazugawa.”

“Good. Let’s get you cleaned up and bandaged then.”

#triggering content #triggering themes #yandere themes #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere x willing reader #demon slayer #yandere demon slayer #yandere sanemi shinazugawa #yandere sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa

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privitivium · 3 months

Note

Hiiiiii so I'm obsessed with how you write! I was wondering if you could write a sanemi x m bottom reader with overstimulation kink and orgasm denial

sure pal. :3

domtop sanemi shinazugawa x subbot m reader

cw;; overstimulation?? Kinda. orgasm denial.,, anal fingering, toys, slapping, bad dom sanemi,… ahrmhem.. sadist sanemi, ahemrhrm

in the market, trying to find a stall that sells fruit, fresh fruit. he knows he can get someone to do this for him - buy his food and pet food, but it feels more meaningful to get it himself for his little rhinoceros beetle pal. he has to make sure its top quality, making sure there aren't any brown spots or wilting… humming with scrutiny as he studies an apple.. red.. sweet, perhaps? sweet.. his mind flashes to you. he'd call you, a sweet man, an idiot, a brat.. unknowing of how to deal with his feelings since you make him sick with butterflies.. why is he thinking about him??? hurry, sanemi, pick out some damn fruit…

you're a boisterous guy, you'd say,,, on par with rengoku kyojuro? no, you wouldn't go that far.. but, having unique quirks and a friendly, polite nature;; getting past someone's outer shell of anxiety and nervousness with ease, you'd call yourself a rowdy, energetic guy, not having the charm as others and wondering why exactly sanemi hates you so much if you were so similar to rengoku kyojuro whom he generally likes? you just wanna get along with everyone,, but you can't please everyone. or maybe you can? sanemi hasn't outright told you to fuck off every time you attempt conversation every so often… maybe this counts as being friends on sanemi's terms!

a mere outing as best companions and ubuyashiki's soldiers, wanting to try a new special at a restaurant you frequented with a friend because of course it tastes better with company.. it was a little hard convincing giyuu at first - but he relented, in the end.. obviously taken by your charm. obviously.

animatedly chatting with giyuu and sitting next to each other comfortably in your uniforms, the villagers didn't seem to care about your swords.. received little to no response as he was simply admiring the exterior of the restaurant, relaxing and hanging out.. you'd say this was great progress!! maybe you should invite him out more often? you sigh, relaxed and smiling, turning away and surveying the stalls and villagers before catching sight of white hair.. spiky white hair. of course, first thought is woah, wind pillar sighting?? but it could easily be a villager with spiky white hair… except it isn't -!!

waving merrily to the wind pillar after spotting him amongst the crowds, hand curled around giyuu's forearm to know that he's still there sitting next to you,,

he glares, eyes widened in a very creepy fashion, spotting your obnoxious arm-waving. a-and why is he walking toward you ?? towards you and that smug asshole… it was like his body was on autopilot - until he was standing over you, and you take a quick moment to assess him, noting that he wasn't wearing his usual KILL haori, but rather a plum colored haori… his uniform all the same, chest on display whilst holding a bag of fruit…

you don't comment on his appearance, and quickly greet the wind pillar politely;; “hey, man! what a surprise.. it's nice seeing you here!!” and, doing most of the talking.. explaining what giyuu and yourself were up to - merely hanging around the village as a little break, no missions.. then questioning him, “what are you up to? having a bit of fun around here yourself?" quite awkwardly,,

he promptly ignores and answers with a question of his own. “are you free?” quite.. mildly you'd say,, his tone, that is - “.. no, not at the moment.. but i will be, around sunset?” you narrow your eyes at the wind pillar, scrutinizing him. you just explained what you were doing, and he asks you if you are free…? b-but at the same time, hanging out with the wind pillar you were trying a bit too hard to be friends with??!?!! you decide not to question it.

and so he schedules a spar with you, gruffly.. ignoring giyuu's presence.. how rude, you thought, but it isn't like giyuu is making any move to greet the wind pillar… and when the time comes, after a wonderful time hanging out with giyuu - and managing a smile out of the stoic tomioka giyuu, you're trekking upwards to the wind estate, breathing in deeply and relaxing in the winds that brush against you as you hike up the steps, the sun just an hour away of setting..

receiving no nice greeting and getting straight to work. he was mostly silent, besides the rude quip of being lazy and not hurrying it up as you followed him throughout his estate to the training grounds of his - it was comfortably breezy.. maybe he wouldn't have a problem with you getting half naked to feel the breeze full-force… would that be unprofessional?? questioning sanemi if you could take your clothes off - catching him off guard it seems, but he relents mutely, allowing you to do such a thing, not once looking at you as you stretch, half-naked. hrmn.. this probably gives the other an advantage.. but this isn't serious sparring, is it..? uh.. you'll find out, soon enough.

he makes quick work of subduing you, having grown weak to his harsh hits - your wooden katana on the brink of snapping.. you let yourself fall underneath him, hand over your abdomen as you lay sprawled out; inhaling deeply and trying to control your breathing, unconcerned with the wind pillar standing over you, before taking a seat on you just below your belly. you stare at him, questioningly - never one to be so close to you, but sitting so close to your dick - it arouses a feeling that makes your dick twitch to life. ahem. you hope he doesn't feel it; but judging by the smug expression on his face, he does. you'd peg him to be disgusted by you.. not.. whatever he was now…

sanemi hums, tongue flicking out and running along his bottom lip - you have to look away, feigning tiredness as you lay your cheek against the rocks beneath you - surprisingly cool to the touch, comforting to your heated body… he shifts around, shuffling around before he was leaning over you and guiding your jaw upright to face him - shivering ever so slightly. aha.. god this is not going the way you'd expect. you wanted to have a good time sparring and trying to get to know him, but he wasn't giving you anything to work with.. oh, besides that thing. in his hand. that he pulled out of his pants. uh..

“wanna guess what this is?” he grinned, maliciously it feels like. but that's how he always smiles, no? “uh.. no.. what? what is that?” you squint, trying to get a closer look.. it was a simple ring of sorts… an odd, black trinket, certainly. too big to fit on a finger that is for certain. “ehh, it's pretty easy actually.. why don't you guess? come on, really try..” sanemi hummed, trailing his fingers down your abdomen briefly, fingertips lingering along your happy trail along your navel.. laughing shakily and shuddering under his touch.

he grits his teeth, before parting his lips and holding the ring in his mouth - moving upwards in a partial squat/standing position - undoing his beltㅡyour bulge quite visible. embarrassing. his actions arousing quite the surprising emotionsㅡand he snaps it once, a threat? before he was leaning down and flipping you on your stomach roughly - you yelp, bracing yourself as if to help yourself up before he was kneeling on your back, pressing you into the rocks and tugging your arms back - spluttering in surprise and trying to get free as your boner was promptly being pressed into by the pesky fucking rocks - tying your wrists behind your back before flipping you back over and resuming in his position along your groin. fuck, the small rocks digging into your wrists. they were smooth, but still.. It hurts !

sanemi huffs, lifting his hand to his lips and taking the ring from his teeth - before slowly placing it atop your navel. “you're just... so damn ignorant... stupid little bastard... " he snapped at you, "you really know how to rile me up.. fucking fuck..” he hisses just under his breath as he begins making rough work of undoing your belt, you;; mewling softly in surprise and unable to keep still, writhing underneath him. too surprised, too shocked to speak as you merely stare wide-eyed at the wind pillar sitting over your groin,,- “you're not going to deny me this. i know all your dirty little fucking secrets… you have a little crush on me but you go out with giyuu like that? are you kidding?!” he growled akin to a dog, squatting over you and ripping your uniform pants downward, completely discarded;; your dick springing forward and accompanied by a pearl of pre, tip darkened in comparison due to the flush of arousal.. going to cover yourself, thighs trying to press together - and feeling your wrists press against the rocks underneath you, a reminder that your arms were restricted.. you can't imagine getting a cramp,,, and you feel as though you wouldn't be heard, asking sanemi to take you elsewhere…

“i- i'm sorry, man, jeez..” you try to pacify, try to get him to be a little more gentle.. by no means denying him - yeah, you did like where this was going, but it could be a little softer!!! sanemi ignores you, in his own world and trails his fingers over your abdomen - grasping your cock abruptly and you hiss in surprise, knees jerking,, slowly, the ring he had been flaunting, placed just around the neck of your cock. mewling softly at the stimulation,,

“damn, man.. don't you look pretty..”, a chuckle escaped sanemi's lips as he promptly admires your frame - leering. dripping with sweat and marked with grime here and there, raking his eyes down to your cock and thin happy trail… dick weeping with pre-cum as you babble incoherently, squirming underneath his slightly bigger build, an indescribable feeling - unlike anything you've ever felt before. a vibration along your genitals..,ㅡwhere could you get one of these, for your use?? it was only a matter of time before you were cumming on yourself and partially sanemi.. “you're such a fucking brat. you know that? i-i just can't stress that enough. i thought it was clear that you're mine..” his lips hike up into a mean snarl,, hands gripping the inner of your thighs and sure to leave hand marks, before he was shifting positions in between your bare legs, head tipping downward and breath ghosting over your leaky tip,,

your legs jerk, not exactly trying to shake him off, as a nervous tic.. threatening to close around sanemi's head.. “d-ude no.. no you weren't clear at all..” you manage to choke out, “if i woulda’ known.. i swear..!!” you cry out, hoping that he understands what you're trying to say, pathetically. hoping that he relents and takes fucking pity on you for one secondㅡthe feeling of your lower intestines tightening, knotting as the dull sensation of the little ring continues - and you buck up into the air, tip smearing your slick along sanemi's cheek on accident but holy fuck his lips felt so goodㅡ

“don't do it.” he warns gruffly, and holy fuck he's so scary - staring at your vulnerable with his wide, blank eyes, looking like a shark peeking behind your cock,,; your writhing form beneath him with a vibrating mechanism around the neck of your cock - your hips jerk upwards, head thrown back and hole clenching around nothing repetitively.. vibrating mechanism slick with your cum dribbling from the slitㅡsanemi slaps your thigh harshly after your accident, giving no warningㅡyou shriek in pain, searing pain that makes you tear up,, hitting you along your inner thigh, so close to your upright cock.. so rudeㅡyou didn't mean to, holy fuck.. it just feels so good-!!! “m’ sorry.. m' sorry, i-i'm sorry..” you squirm helplessly, sobbing quietly, thighs tensing to squeeze together after feeling the a draft hit your hole:; your dick threatening to shrink if not for the uncomfortable buzz keeping it stiff and upright,, leaking, dripping down onto your pubes you try to keep trimmed - unable to keep still as you try to jerk your hips upwards,, trying to get the mechanism off. you never touched yourself after cumming - never cumming two times during a session of masturbation, griping to yourself about how it felt too much.. it was too much. it felt almost painful, but still, a considerable amount of pleasurableㅡmaking your legs twitch and hole tense around air continuouslyㅡ

sanemi grunts in displeasure and the vibrating little ring seems to slow down.. god it felt so fucking good just then as if you were about to cum again even with the overstimulation along your cock - and he just t-took it away,,, tears stream down to your ears;; shaking your head and parting your partially dry lips to apologize - “you fucking moron.. don't know when to fucking listen.” he snapped lowly before he was standing up and - his pants disappear. his dick… just a smidge bigger than yours… standing outright, and it seems that the carpet does match the drapes.. neatly trimmed. Ahemhrm.. he inches down, squatting - and using his pants as a cushion for his knees and bunching up your pants underneath your ass as a cushion for you… you revel in this moment of sweetness… biting your lip, swallowing the spit in your mouth, and blinking the tears away… unwilling to gaze at him,,. you fear though that will make you cum again,,, realistically, it wouldn't, but you’re still nervous,,,

sanemi swipes his thumb on his tip, thumb slick with his mess.. unable to contain himself after seeing you so pretty - circling it with his thumb slick with his pre, before switching fingers and pressing inward.. it was relatively easy… a little too easy… as if you were a little familiar with fingering yourself,,,, “huh.” he mutters, his dick aching to be properly touched as he fingers you lazily - you jerk, squeezing around him with a soft cry.. “hmm,..” he continues, as if skeptical, as he slowly scissors around, trying to find that magic mystical button to make you squirm again - and with ease, you begin to writhe, push into his hand.. “ah, there we go…” he nods, prideful as he begins rubbing, furiously against your prostate with the pad of his middle finger - hand snapping to grip your cock and thumb placed over the slit of your tip.. “a-uah,, sa-sanemi.. sa.. nemi-!” you weakly cry out his name. Over and over.. while clenching on his fingers and grinding downward into his touch.. he could get used to this.. maybe have you around his house as his little fuckdoll to stuff and toy with whenever he wanted.. ah, he reprimands himselfㅡyou're more than that to him.. his.. husband?.. his lover..? … his.

sanemi stretches, and scissors your hole dutifully - humming in contentment as he uses your cum to lather his cock,, the mere feeling of his fingertips grazing your dick almost.. almost.. makes you start back up again - crying out softly at his touch along your shaft.. before he inches forward, guiding his tip to your head before pushing inward, kindly being slow… the tip of his cock making it passed your previously stretched ring of muscle,,, you inhale shakily, bracing yourself yet trying to relax - sanemi, snapping his hips forward into you. piercing you, fucking filling you to the brim and making you choke on your spit - drool dribbling down your cheek and rendering you speechless - lips parted with glazed eyes..

“i'm gonna make you wish that you didn't cum..” gently, he trails the back of his hand over your cheek, wiping away your tears… uahgh… his hand gently wrapping around the base of your cock and slowly stroking it, as he slowly pushes inward until his pubes were buried in your perineum, filling your hole out nicely.. “... if you cum again… i'm gonna rip your dick off, alright?” sanemi hums affectionately, thumbing the slit of your cock as if plugging it up once more - you writhe, ultimately trying to relax; breathing heavily.. chest heaving up and down as you stare into the sky, the sunset overcoming the perfect blue with oranges and yellows - augh.. fuck..,, sanemi, gently fucking into you compared to when you first began, yet you can't cum? - tears welled up in your eyes, and you feel so honored despite the rule... this must mean you're friends now… o-or more, as sanemi alluded to.. what exactly did being sanemi's entail?... being lovers..? y-yeah, you'll go with that.. just.. don't.. think about … cumming all over his hand… all- all over his face.. D-DONT THINK-!

sorry for any mistakes ,,, :3

#kny =͟͟͞͞★#x male reader #subbot male reader #sub male reader #bottom male reader #x sub male reader #sanemi shinazugawa x m reader #dom sanemi x reader...#kny x male reader

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fairy-writes · 1 year

Note

😎 congrats on 900 followers my best friend!! You deserve it!! I shall give the first first request to you, and that is, Sanemi x fem reader!!! With the action prompt 1! I give you free reign but for the love of everything holy, please make it fluffy!!!!!

IT JUST MEANS TIME

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Demon Slayer

Pairing(s): Shinazugawa Sanemi x Female!Reader

Prompt: Falling asleep with their head in the lap of their lover (Action Prompt #1)

Notes: This is technically before the reader and Sanemi gets together, but it’s a fun idea, so we’re going with it, lol.

This is for my 900 followers event! Check my pinned post for more info if you want to join! It’s going on between May 1st and May 15th!

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There was always something off about you, but Shinazugawa Sanemi could never place what it was.

You were a fellow Hashira—the Falcon Hashira, if he remembered right. You were from overseas but talented nonetheless. One of the more talented Hashira, if he had to admit anything. With quick but grand divebombing techniques and lethal strikes that imitated a falcon, after which you were named. The two of you sparred often, usually on your estate. You teased him, saying that he probably had a dirty home.

He never told you it was because he didn’t want you to see the picture of his family.

He didn’t want your pity most of all.

Because he had a feeling that your pity would shatter his heart into tiny pieces.

But he wasn’t sure why.

Sanemi wakes up somewhere warm. His body aches as if he was dragged behind a train. His eyelashes flutter open, and he looks up to see your face. Your eyes are closed. Your face turned forward toward the open window, gently swaying from side to side with the breeze as you hummed a tune. It was calming… relaxing…

It was something he hadn’t felt since before his mother died.

The moment he realizes his head is in your lap, he bolts upright, startling you into opening your eyes. You glance at him in confusion before your expression warms, a twinkle in your eye and an expression he couldn’t quite place curling your lips.

“Have a nice rest?” You ask kindly. That was the thing about you. You were never unkind to anyone. You dealt with demons swiftly and painlessly, even going as far as to pray for them as they died. You always had that smile on your face, even when people screamed or cursed in your face.

“Where am I?” He demands, and you shrug,

“Your estate. Shinobu asked if I could keep an eye on you while you healed. Do you remember anything?” You ignore his guarded expression, instead talking to him as if he was your best friend or even a lover.

Lover…

For whatever reason, he didn’t hate that idea. But he knew it was never meant to be. While he cared for you deeply (he wasn’t sure when that happened), he knew that you would never look twice at a man like him. Why would you? You were calm, kind, successful, and one of the only Hashira with a still living and loving family. Why you were a demon slayer was a mystery to him.

“Shinazugawa? Are you alright?” You ask, breaking him from his reverie. You had cocked your head, and concern painted your face like an art piece. With the setting sun bathing your body in golden light, he thought you looked almost like an angel.

Sanemi nods,

“‘m fine. What happened?” He eventually says, and you frown (he hates it when you frown) but reply regardless.

“We were sent on a mission, and you were attacked by a demon. You passed out from blood loss soon after we killed the demon. I carried you back here. ” You explain succinctly, and he blinks. He vaguely remembered going on the mission. He remembers a splash of red. He remembers being moved.

Had that been you?

He is stuck in his mind and only shakes his head to clear himself of half-formed memories when you come back in with a tray of tea and a roll of bandages.

“Shinobu asked that I take care of you.” You reiterate and gesture for him to turn around. He does so without a word. There’s no use in arguing, not when he hurts this bad and can spot speckles of stains on his futon where blood had leaked through the wrappings. You work deftly and quietly, only asking if the bandages are too tight, to which he says no.

Eventually, you speak.

“Who are those people in the picture?” You ask, and he immediately knows which picture you’re talking about. It’s the one by his futon. It’s the only picture of his entire family. His father’s face had been ripped from the image, and there were a few splatters of red on the paper, but he kept it nonetheless.

“It doesn’t matter.” He says gruffly and grunts when you tug a bit too tight on the bandage around his middle. You apologize quietly.

“They’re your family, aren’t they? I think that matters a lot.” You say, voice but a whisper in the breeze coming through the window. Sanemi clenches his fists and grits his teeth. Here it comes.

The pity.

The apologies.

You don’t look at him with those eyes that he despises. Instead, you look at him with compassion, not pity.

“I think they’d be proud of you, y’know? You’re helping so many people. I think they’d want you to have a happily ever after.” You say, and he remembers seeing you read a book of foreign fairy tales. When he had asked you about it, you had smiled.

“I just want a happily ever after someday.” You had said.

“There’s no such thing as “happily ever after.” It’s just a lie that everyone tells themselves because the truth is too hard.” He says bitterly, his heart constricting.

No.

He didn’t want to say that.

Not to you.

He didn’t want you to look sad.

But you continue to astound him when you speak again. You don’t apologize. You don’t reprimand him. You don’t belittle him.

“Happily ever after just means time, Sanemi.” You whisper, putting a hand over his. He revels in the feeling of your calloused hand and the way you say his name with a smile. Normally, he’d shout at anyone for calling him that. But you are different. And that was something he liked about you.

So, when you gently tug him down so he lies with his head in your lap, he doesn’t complain. He even closes his eyes as you begin to hum.

He falls asleep soon after, feeling relaxed and calm, feeling loved.

Sanemi always prided himself on keeping his walls up. Because with a past like his, he didn’t want pity. He didn’t want people to say how sorry they were for him. Because frivolous words like that did nothing around demons.

But… strangely enough… he didn’t feel like he needed to keep them up around you.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #shinazugawa x reader #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #kny sanemi #kny x reader #sanemi x you #sanemi x y/n #fairy writes 900 followers #fairy writes #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader

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d0nnie-real · 2 years

Note

Hcs For Uzui, Rengoku, Sanemi and Giyu With a Tall and Muscle S/o

Oooo sounds like a fun write! Thank you so much for this request!

Uzui, Rengoku, Sanemi and Giyu with a tall and muscle s/o! (no images this time because i'm borrowing my friends computer) UZUI - BEGS you to carry him around so he can show off to the others - Both of you guys would be gym bros ofc y'all work out everyday unless he's on a mission - Tries to carry you to show off how strong he is to his wives and he probably can carry you but if you're like really really strong or something like just pure pounds of muscle he'll drop you on accident - For the tall part, is jealous because he enjoys ppl shorter then him but you're like a tree and he will 100% climb RENGOKU - He's used to people being a bit taller then him so he doesn't mind! will ask you to carry him on your shoulders so he'll feel taller tho- - Loves training with you! Because you're so strong and tall its great for training :) - Likes it when you hold his head to your chest, makes him feel so very safe in your arm - he likes when he is on your shoulder and then just start running its very fun to him and such a boost of adrenaline! SANEMI - Just like rengoku he is used to people being taller then him, but he does like your cuddles - Will pretend he doesn't like being on your shoulders when secretly he does because he likes feeling taller lol - Trains with you like the others, because he loves a good challenge plus he needs to know if you can defend yourself! surely if you're that strong you can defend yourself right?? - he likes wearing your cloths sometimes... don't tease him about it tho- he'll yell your ear off GIYU - just like sanemi and rengoku he is also used to folks being taller then him - LOVES when you cuddle him, it makes him feel so safe and comfy - doesn't really like being on your shoulders but when he is he likes smelling your hair your shampoo smells really nice - Please for the love of god cuddle this man to no end because it'll make him so happy and he can finally yell at shinobu when she says no one likes him lol

#demon slayer #demon slayer x m!reader #kny #gn reader #rengoku kyojuro #uzui tengen #sanemi shinazugawa #giyuu tomioka #kny x male reader #kny x gn!reader

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ghost-1-y · 8 months

Text

trust me - sanemi shinazugawa

Pairing: sanemi x afab!tsuguko!reader

!!PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING!!

TW: major character death (reader), no happy ending (hurt/no comfort), mentions & descriptions of gore & injury, brief thoughts of self-harm (Sanemi - briefly mentioned, doesn’t actually happen), consensual sex (Sanemi and reader are 18+), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, handjob, oral (m! and f! receiving), creampie, Sanemi is pussy drunk in this lmao; spanking (happens once), slight manhandling, praise kink, spitting kink(?) (Sanemi spits in readers mouth), (very) slight olfactophilia, brief mention of vomit (again, doesn’t actually happen), mention of scars (Sanemi and reader) MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI - I WILL BLOCK YOU

CW: fluff; general angst; arguments between Sanemi and reader; Sanemi is a bit of a meanie at times :/ (aka Sanemi being Sanemi); mentions of food/eating; descriptions of wound care; love confessions; Sanemi uses the following pet names for reader: “baby”, “pretty”, “beautiful”, and “sweetheart”

Word Count: ~6.2k

A/N: this is my first fic, so I hope that y’all enjoy it! I’m not gonna lie I was superrr nervous to post this lol so please be nice🥲🥲 I’ll probably do a fluffy comfort fic for Sanemi after this to make up for the pain lol; also wanted to let y’all know that this was half-inspired by the song “Fragile” by Laufey, so go give that a listen if you’d like!

Quiet.

As the dewy drops of the morning mist came into contact with his bare hands, Sanemi noted the silence of the sunrise – one would believe that its light denoted respite, a time of peace – something beautiful to behold as its rays began to gently sweep across the grassy field. He could not yet hear the calls of the mourning dove, for it was too early for the birds to grace anyone’s ears with their softening sounds.

However, as Sanemi continued his way through the tall blades, his hands wet with the remnants of night, respite gave way to apprehension, and the misty air was filled with a sense of malaise.

For the mist that lowly hovered above the grass was red.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

One year ago.

“You can’t expect me to treat you differently from them.” Sanemi pointed his blade to the lower-ranked slayers on the sidelines of the training grounds, those who hadn’t passed out yet being completely keeled over or having nearly drowned themselves in water to stave off the summer heat. “If you want to handle stronger opponents, I need to ensure that you are trained well enough to do so.”

Having been at the point of near-exhaustion herself, Y/N could barely muster a reply. “I know, Shinazugawa-san,” she panted while looking up at him from her not-so-flattering position on the ground. “Why else do you think I’m here? ‘s not like I enjoy being trained half-to-death,” she replied sarcastically.

Sanemi’s glare met her. “You should consider yourself lucky that I was gracious enough to let you train under me. At the rate you’re going, I’d half expect you to move down a rank, rather than up one.” He walked towards her and, despite his cold nature, offered Y/N his scarred hand. “Get up. I’m not lettin’ you go until you can knock me down to my knees.”

A challenge she knew to be nearly impossible with the skill level she was currently at, Y/N wondered if her rank of Hinoto meant anything against the Wind Pillar himself. She took his roughened hand in hers and stood up, and, after a poor attempt at dusting the dirt off of her uniform, steeled herself once more for the upcoming attack from the man glaring across from her.

Sanemi tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and started lunging toward her.

–––––

Y/N continued to train under Sanemi’s watch, each day somehow more grueling than the last. She woke up at the god-awful hours of the morning and trained until midnight. This repeated day in and day out for weeks, with seemingly nothing to show for it except a bunch of creative insults that she’d managed to add to her arsenal after receiving them from Sanemi himself.

“You’re not using your sword correctly,” he pointed out. It was always something, she thought – her stance was wrong, her breathing wasn’t efficient enough, and now she apparently couldn’t even hold her sword correctly.

By the time she looked up at Sanemi, frustrated with her apparent inadequacies, he was no longer in front of her, having walked around so that her back faced him. He placed his hand on her forearm, “just– move your arms here…good, and your hands should be like this–” he spoke softly into her ear as he adjusted her grip to what he deemed satisfactory. Y/N was thankful that Sanemi stood behind her as she felt an intense warmth flood across her cheeks. By the time he was finished, Y/N noted the lightest blush on the tips of his ears as he returned to his original spot and took his own offensive stance, clearly not intending nor wanting to address the familiarity of his previous actions.

“Now you don’t have any excuses to have such a shitty attack pattern,” he quipped, before engaging her in battle once more.

As months passed, the Wind Pillar slowly transitioned from insults to providing Y/N with actual guidance, and she was slowly reminded of why exactly she requested to become his Tsuguko in the first place. One day, while she was taking her thirty-minute lunch break at the wooden chabudai inside of the Wind Pillar’s estate, Sanemi sat next to her and started to eat his own meal. He refused to look at her, but the words he uttered from his mouth sent relief through her veins.

“You’ve gotten stronger.”

Unsure of how to respond, as compliments were rare coming from the usually rather hostile Pillar, Y/N simply nodded and whispered a “thank you,” continuing to pick at her food. Eventually, she looked over at him and noticed that he was frowning at the wooden chabudai before him, an internal conflict seemingly battling out in his mind.

“I have a mission I’ve been assigned to, I’d like you to come with me.”

His words were quiet, almost hesitant.

“You want me to assist you?” she asked, mainly because she didn’t believe Sanemi had trusted her enough to bring her on a mission assigned to a Hashira, much less himself.

Sanemi nodded in response. “Lower-ranked slayers have been going missing in one of the nearby mountains,” he sighed. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have named them slayers in the first place if they’re stupid enough to get caught by some demon.” He paused, and then finally looked at her. “I think that you’re capable enough to help me should things get out of hand,” he added quietly.

A sense of warmth flooded through her, and she smiled at him, grateful that he had finally acknowledged the hard work she’d put into all of her training. “Thank you, Shinazugawa-san. I promise that I will do my best.”

Sanemi thought to himself that he would like to see more of that smile.

“Don’t think that just ‘cause I’ve seen you improve that it means I’m gonna let you take it easy from here on out,” he said as he stood up. “Also, if you get into trouble on this mission, I want you to call for me immediately. Don’t get yourself into some shit you can’t handle,” he added, and his gaze upon her suddenly hardened as the words left his mouth. “Let me deal with it if things get too difficult.”

With that, he left to head back towards the training grounds.

–––––

That night, Y/N followed closely behind as Sanemi hiked up the mountain, with the bitter cold becoming more apparent as patches of snow were slowly augmented by the tiny flakes falling around them. Every once in a while, they’d find some blood splatter or human entrails, with such carnage becoming more frequent as they continued their trek.

Eventually, Sanemi stopped – Y/N had learned to trust his instinct when he sensed that something was off. Sanemi brushed his hand over the hilt of his sword and gripped it tightly, his muscles tensing with anticipation, which caused Y/N to echo his actions and grab her own sword, holding it so that she was prepared for any possible enemy attack.

Or so she thought.

A blast of icy wind came from her right, forcing Y/N to close her eyes lest her corneas were to freeze from the frigid temperature. Sanemi, however, immediately chased after the source – his speed something frightening to behold. After a futile attempt to follow him, Y/N found herself swarmed by fifteen demons, all of whom were nearly identical to each other, as they all possessed the same pale blue skin and white hair. After a few attacks, Y/N also noted that their blood demon art was the same: one that would allow them to manipulate freezing winds and ice however they pleased.

Y/N was able to hear Sanemi in the distance, easily decapitating what seemed to be a larger swarm than what she was presently dealing with. Just how many of them are there? Y/N thought as she made her way through twelve of the demons, decapitating each one until an attack managed to hit her mid-air – causing a sharp ice fragment to deeply slice open her upper thigh. Gritting through the pain, she finished off the final three demons that she’d been fighting before slowly limping toward a nearby tree to assess the damage of her wound. It seemed as though Sanemi’s battle was also over, as Y/N could hear nothing but the howling of the mountainous winds as he walked back over to where they both had split up.

Once Sanemi caught sight of her, his shoulders seemed to relax. However, such relief was temporary once he eyed her bleeding thigh, and immediately began rushing over to her, pulling out some spare gauze that he had stored on his person and a wave of anger that she couldn’t describe filling the violet hues of his eyes.

“What did I fuckin’ tell you? To stay back and let me handle it, yet you’re so stupid that you can’t even obey direct orders,” Sanemi spat at her as he started bandaging the deep laceration on her thigh, taking careful consideration of the pressure and tightness of the gauze wrap he was using. Each time she winced, he would look up from her injury, and his violet eyes would meet hers. However, there was no malice of the words he spewed at her within his expanded pupils.

Y/N sharply inhaled before responding. “I’m sorry! But you’re the one who went on ahead and left me with them! I had to–”

“No. You didn’t have to, you fuckin’ dumbass. That’s where you’re wrong – you didn’t have to put yourself in danger just because I was off dealing with something else. Fuckin’ think next time and maybe I wouldn’t have to be cleaning you up like this,” he lightly choked on the last few words, yet continued wrapping up her wound, hands gentle and considerate of her pain. Y/N huffed at his impossible reasoning and looked down at him with a hardened stare.

He looked into her eyes once more, his grip on her uninjured leg tightening. “I don’t- I can’t fuckin’ lose someone else,” he stated, a rare glimpse of vulnerability from inside his tortured heart. At that, Y/N dropped her stare and hesitantly placed her hand upon his tensed one.

“I’m sorry, Shinazugawa-san, I promise that next time will be different. I’ll get stronger, so you won’t have to go to such lengths for me.” She gave him a reassuring smile, and his hand relaxed as he continued his work on her wounded leg. With the sun still rising over the horizon, she couldn’t make out the brimming of tears on his waterline before he blinked them away.

It was a side of Sanemi that Y/N hadn’t seen before – but before she could indulge herself to begin examining every crevice of emotion that the Wind Pillar had put on display for her, his attitude changed once again to one of apparent indifference.

“Don’t apologize – just listen to me next time,” he stated as he finished wrapping up her leg. Once a couple of hours passed and the Kakushi had arrived to clean up the aftermath, he stood up and grabbed Y/N’s arm to pull her up from her sitting position. Sanemi then took the same arm and put it around his shoulder, allowing her to use him as a crutch as they both walked to the wagon brought by one of the Kakushi in the aftermath of the battle.

The ride to the Butterfly Mansion was mostly quiet. Sanemi, despite not being injured himself, decided to stay with Y/N as she slept on the floor of the wagon. The cold of the early morning seemed to be permeating Y/N’s skin as she shivered in her sleep. Always aware of his surroundings, Sanemi looked at her with concern and took off his haori, feeling slightly flushed as he placed it on top of her as a makeshift blanket, blaming the warmth of his cheeks on the cold morning air. He sat down next to her, crossing his arms and closing his eyes to alleviate some of his own fatigue.

It didn’t help that in his dreams, his body was keeping her warm instead.

–––––

Once Y/N had woken up, she first noted the sanitary scent of the patient room assigned to her. Having awoken from the gentle knock on the door, she looked to see Aoi entering with some gauze and antibiotics.

Sanemi was nowhere in sight.

“I’m glad you’re awake. I’m here to perform some general wound care for you. I’ll be changing your dressings, alright?” Aoi looked at her, and once she received a nod from Y/N, she proceeded to unwrap the layers of gauze and started to inspect the wound.

“There is some slight inflammation,” she observed as she lightly pressed against the sides of the laceration with her gloved hands, which exhibited some redness and swelling. “I’m going to be prescribing you some antibiotics in order to prevent any potential infections.” She started applying some antibiotic ointment directly to the wound, and Y/N winced at the stinging pain that it caused. Once satisfied, Aoi carefully rewrapped the wound with a new set of gauze. “Your antibiotics will need to be taken orally with food and water once a day. Make sure you complete the entire course that I prescribe so that you don’t face any further complications down the line.”

All Y/N could do was nod silently, and once Aoi determined that she would follow directions, she left the room.

–––––

Despite wanting to thank him for helping her in the aftermath of the battle, Y/N had not seen Sanemi even once during her recovery process. She wondered if he had gone back to his estate, but it still struck her as odd that he didn’t at least come by to berate her for the lack of judgment she possessed in the midst of the fight.

Maybe he got it all out of his system when he was wrapping up my wound, she thought to herself.

During her stay as a patient, Aoi mentioned to Y/N that due to the cut slicing through the muscle of her leg, it could take weeks or even months to recover. Since Y/N had not yet mastered Total Concentration Breathing: Constant, Aoi explained that it may take longer to heal compared to if a Hashira had such an injury.

Y/N wondered if Sanemi no longer trusted her skills as a slayer.

She wondered if Sanemi ever had any trust in her at all.

The very thought caused bile to rise in her throat. She wanted him to be proud of her, to trust her – just as she did with him.

Y/N slowly got up from her bed and walked outside to sit on the engawa of the Butterfly Mansion. The moon’s rise was slow, and the soft chirp of crickets could be heard from the nearby trees. Once sat, she admired the garden owned by the Insect Pillar herself – with beautiful azaleas and hydrangea plants shaping pathways throughout the grounds. Y/N closed her eyes and basked in the moonlight rays that shone upon the estate – that is, until her ears heard the softest creak of wood coming from behind her.

“Shinazugawa-san?” She softly whispered once she turned to see who it was, as though the peace of the night would be disturbed should she speak any louder.

Sanemi said nothing, but then moved quietly to sit down next to her – if Y/N hadn’t known any better, she would’ve believed that he was solely there just to admire the moonlit garden as well. His eyes appeared a soft, yet dark hue of indigo in the cool moonlight – they bore none of the usual aggression that they carried when around others.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” Y/N asked him quietly, gaze fixed upon him, and he nodded.

“Would be prettier if it didn’t cause so much needless death.”

She couldn’t argue at all. He was right – and would be until demons had been eradicated off the face of the earth, but that didn’t stop her from wishing that things were different.

Sanemi sighed and finally looked at her, and his eyes screamed ‘loss’.

He was fragile. He wasn’t the roughened-up, aggressive, insolent slayer that others saw him as. Rather, it was his scars that held him together by threads, and it was his heart that silently called out to her – to “hold me, please.”

And so she did.

Y/N slowly slid her arms around him and had them reach up towards his nape. The sigh he emitted came from his chest, and Sanemi’s grip tightened around her as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. His eyes closed and brows furrowed, focused on nothing but the gentle touch of her skin against his. His mouth was slightly parted, lips pressed softly near her collarbone as he breathed against her.

His touch was warm.

She wished to feel more of it, to let it utterly consume her until all that she could feel was him.

Once he parted from her, Y/N looked into his eyes and felt the need to speak. “I- uh, I wanted to thank you for helping me with my wound after the battle,” she admitted softly. In response, his eyes hardened again and looked down at her bandaged leg.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied shortly before getting up. Soon after, Y/N found herself alone on the engawa once again, although the peaceful silence of the night had been replaced with a feeling of despondency that she couldn’t quite place.

–––––

By the time she recovered from her injury, it seemed as though Sanemi had done the impossible by making Y/N’s training even more difficult. Not a day went by when she wasn’t completely collapsed on the ground by sunset. It only took a few days before dark shadows under her eyes became visible, and her muscles ached.

Gone too was Sanemi’s softer side. Instead, it seemed as though their relationship was right back where it started, sans the fact that he seemed to slightly tense every single time he caught a glimpse of her scarred leg.

The sun had set, and Sanemi was yelling at Y/N to complete one more series of reps before retiring for the night. The problem, however, was that Y/N’s legs had become gelatinous and were shaking beyond her control, and despite all the willpower that she had sustained within her, it wasn’t enough to pick herself up off the ground.

“Are you really that fuckin’ weak that you can’t even stand up by yourself?” he spat. “You should’ve never become a slayer – this shit is too dangerous for people like you. All you will ever be is demon fodder. Fuckin’ give up and leave the corps if that’s how you’re going to treat the training I give you.” His insults were never-ending, and given how exhausted she was, it took everything within her to not cry at his words.

“I’m fucking trying, Shinazugawa-san!” she choked out. “What the hell did I do for you to treat me this way? Have I not done enough already?” With tears brimming in her eyes, she musters up the courage to ask the question she’s been wondering since that night on the battlefield.

“Do you not have any trust in me at all?” she cried.

Sanemi scoffed and glared at her. “You need to earn my trust, and until you’re able to complete the training I give you without collapsing to the ground like some low-ranked slayer, then you won’t have it.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and she ignored the tightening sensation in her throat as she resolved to bite back at the cruel man before her.

“Bullshit,” she spat. “You thought I was capable enough to assist you on the last mission. Don’t lie by saying I’ve never earned your trust before.”

Sanemi rolled his eyes. “So what? Maybe I did trust you – before the mission. But you fucking broke it by getting hurt!” he seethed, eyes wide as he looked down at her.

“Maybe if you were capable enough to not get yourself wounded during the fight, then I might’ve still had some trust in you,” he admitted. “You think that I’m just gonna trust someone who gets their leg nearly sliced off to be able to handle themselves?”

“Is that what this is all about? ‘Cause I got some stupid cut on my leg? You can’t be serious–”

“Shut the fuck up. You know damn well it wasn’t just a cut. What if you had gotten slashed somewhere else? What if it had been more severe? What if you–” he didn’t wish to complete that sentence, lest he spoke the thought into existence.

It was the first time she’d seen Sanemi with tears in his eyes.

“It would’ve been my fault, Y/N! My fucking fault if something happened to you! I already told you, I can’t fucking lose someone else. I’ve already lost so many people, and I–” he watched as Y/N stood up, despite the obvious exhaustion in her legs, and walked towards him. “I can’t lose you, too,” he confessed, his voice softer than the wind that gently breezed through her hair. A tear had found its way down his cheek – just over the scar that was bestowed upon him by his own mother. As if by instinct, Y/N wiped it away with the pad of her thumb, but she did not part from his face. Instead, she proceeded to trace her thumb over the jagged scar, and he surprisingly leaned into the touch of her palm against his cheek, his eyes frantically searching her own. She smiled at him, and his breath caught in his throat.

“You have me, Sanemi.”

The groan that he voiced was soft, yet guttural – as though it came from deep within his chest, and he placed his hands on either side of her face, his eyes looking at her with utmost adoration and care, and his lips brushed softly against hers, and Y/N’s eyes were nearly sent reeling back before he closed the gap.

The pleasurable gasp that she emitted caused him to smile into the kiss, his lips slightly chapped, but gentle and loving with how they caressed hers, as though she would shatter under the slightest touch, or that she was a goddess and he a sinner seeking repentance by worshiping her.

“Fuck…wanted to do this for so long,” he breathed against her and his kisses became more needy – something fully welcomed by Y/N as she wrapped her arms around him and her fingers found purchase in his unruly hair. When he parted from her lips, a string of saliva connected his mouth to hers, which only broke as he went back to kiss her with his then swollen lips. He groaned once more before picking her up and carrying her over his shoulder, causing Y/N to yelp in surprise.

“Not letting you go anywhere, baby,” Sanemi grinned and smacked Y/N’s ass as he took her to his estate’s bedroom, which prompted her to roll her eyes at his antics. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile as he gently placed her on his futon and kissed her once more. “Can’t fuckin’ get enough of you, pretty,” he stated before moving down to her neck, where he licked and sucked until he found her pulse point, at which point Y/N moaned softly. “That’s right…feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, knowing full well what her answer was even before she tried to nod her head.

“Sa- Sanemi…” she gasped, her hand cradling the back of his head as he left messy kisses up and down her neck.

“Sound so fuckin’ beautiful, keep saying my name like that, hm?” As he continued kissing her, his hands rose towards the top button of her uniform, a question of “Can I?” to which Y/N nodded. He unbuttoned her top, kissing down her chest and stomach until the clothing was fully removed. In return, Y/N helped remove the bindings that covered her breasts, letting them spill out in full view of Sanemi’s greedy irises. Sanemi wasted no time in latching his mouth to one of her tits, where he lavished her with his tongue whilst massaging and kneading the other with his roughened hand, rolling her nipple in between his fingers and playfully biting down on her breasts every so often solely to hear her whine.

“‘Nemi…need…need more please,” Y/N moaned and he chuckled. “Hm? What do you need, pretty?” Y/N only whined in response and he bit her breast again, causing her to jolt. “Need you to tell me what you want, beautiful,” he continued.

“Need your mouth…” she admitted, slightly embarrassed.

“Oh? Where do you need it?” he asked her before sucking her tit once more.

“Nngh… my– my pussy,” Y/N whined pathetically, to which Sanemi released his mouth from her breast with a lewd pop.

“Good girl,” he praised and started working towards her needy cunt, licking down her torso and leaving kisses and bites on her inner thighs. He took his time working towards her wet heat and ghosted his mouth over her panties, his hot breath permeating the cloth as she impatiently writhed underneath him. He selfishly inhaled her scent before pulling the garment to the side, and leaving a soft kiss against her core, leaving her to whimper when he pulled away to remove her panties, only for him to then lick a fat stripe up her slit. Sanemi moaned deeply and proceeded to pull Y/N towards him by her hips, ensuring that her sweetness was as close as possible to his greedy tongue.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groaned before proceeding to stuff his face full of her pussy once more. The tip of his nose nudged her swollen clit as he gathered her wetness into his mouth by licking into her tight hole and fucking her with his tongue, moaning against her pussy in the process. Y/N began bucking her hips in response, only for him to pin them down with one arm as he used his other hand to start fingering her after moving his mouth to suck on her clit. She moaned with abandon as he began curling his fingers inside of her heat, sucking voraciously on her swollen nub.

“F-Fuck, ‘Nemi! I- I’m gonna cum!” Y/N attempted to writhe underneath him, despite being held back by Sanemi’s arm pinning her down. Her admission only turned Sanemi more eager, causing him to rut against the mattress as he began quickening his fingers inside her and sucking harder on her clit. Y/N’s eyes rolled back and her mouth went agape, screaming and shaking uncontrollably as she came into his awaiting mouth. He licked up every drop that she gave him, using his fingers to coax more of her release onto his tongue, not wanting to waste any of her precious gift.

Y/N sat up and clambered onto him as soon as she came down from her orgasm, and kissed him deeply, tasting herself on his lips and tongue. “Wanna return the favor, ‘Nemi,” she whispered and he flushed red at the thought. “Yeah? Show me, pretty.” Standing up, he tilted her chin with one hand so that she was forced to look up at him from her knees. Using his other hand, he unbuckled his belt and removed it along with his hakama. His cock was thick, with pretty veins traveling all across it, making her nearly drool at the sight. Y/N brought one hand up and collected the precum from the tip of his cock with her thumb, before licking it off. Sanemi groaned, encouraging her to begin stroking his fat dick despite her hand being unable to fully reach around it. She took a curious first lick at his pretty, bulbous head, causing him to shudder, before wrapping her lips around it and sucking as she moved her hand along his thick length.

“Fuck, baby,” Sanemi groaned. Y/N moved her hand to fondle his balls and began taking on more of his length into her mouth, bobbing her head back and forth, a combination of saliva and precum coating his dick. “S-shit– you’re so good at that… fuck,” he groaned.

It took everything within Sanemi to not start fucking her throat at that moment – not wanting to hurt her as she pleasured him. He compromised by grabbing her hair and gently guiding her mouth along his cock, so that he could have some semblance of control over her movements and hence, his orgasm. Before he could cum, he removed her from his length and put his hand underneath her chin, tilting her head up towards his face – a wave of arousal shooting straight through his dick as he saw her swollen, spit-covered lips. “Open,” he commanded, and proceeded to spit into Y/N’s mouth before seeking her lips on his, demanding that she swallow. “Such a good girl for me, I’m gonna fill you up and make you feel perfect, baby,” he promised.

Sanemi pushed her down onto the bed, spreading her legs apart with his. He stroked his cock a few times before lining it up with Y/N’s sopping pussy, selfishly rubbing it up and down her slick folds a few times. He looked into her eyes, seeing her smiling up at him before leaning down and giving a soft kiss to her lips. Y/N moaned softly — unable to wait any longer as she gently wrapped her fingers around his cock, pushing the tip into her tight cunt.

He slowly entered her heat, his shaft stretching open her spongy walls, and he let out a low moan. He lowered himself so that his chest was pressed up against her and his head was in the crook of her neck, and he took Y/N’s hands in his as he started to fuck slowly into her.

“Shit, you’re so perfect for me. You feel so good, baby,” Sanemi moaned and kissed her neck sweetly. Y/N whined as he slowly pulled out just to push his cock back in again – hitting the area that made her see stars. He chuckled, “your pussy just keeps sucking me back in, sweetheart – it’s like she doesn’t want me to leave.” Y/N responded by babbling incoherently, and he looked up at her only to see tears brimming her eyes from the pure pleasure he so graciously gave, and instinctively kissed them away. “Taking my cock so well, such a good girl,” he said before his mouth reached hers, tongue darting between her parted lips before caressing her tongue with his.

His thrusts started to become more desperate, nearly grinding into her – incidentally rubbing against her clit in the process. She moaned against his mouth, her kisses sloppy against his swollen lips. “So good, ‘Nemi…” she whimpered, allowing herself to get lost in the pleasure and heat that he was providing her. He choked on a moan as he continued to rut into her, the squelching sounds of her pussy driving him nearly insane, “gonna cum, pretty. Where– where do you want it?” he asked, surprised he even had the coherency to form words as his mind was half gone from pleasure.

“Inside,” she whined, and his eyes widened, the building tension in his gut rising. “Are you sure?” he asked, and she nodded, writhing underneath him.

“Need it inside…please,” she begged him, and who was he to deny her? His thrusts became sloppier, and he let go of one of her hands to reach down and rub her clit. The pleasure was immense, and Y/N couldn’t think about anything but him as she clenched around his cock as her orgasm flooded through her body – which consequently brought Sanemi over the edge as well, as he all but exploded inside of her hot cunt, groaning deeply as his cum flooded into her womb in thick ropes – causing her to moan and babble incoherently. “Fuck! Fuck– Y/N, I fucking love you,” he confessed in his state of euphoria, and Y/N only fully grasped what he said once he had collapsed on top of her – having just enough energy to pull him up towards her lips to kiss him once more – his lips hot and wet and swollen as they pressed against hers. “I love you too, ‘Nemi. So much,” she confessed, and he looked at her, slightly embarrassed by his own impromptu confession, but beyond elated that she felt the same way.

He slid off of her, his softening cock slipping out of her pussy and he reached his arms around her – wanting nothing more than to hold her close to him as they both lay there on his futon. She smiled lazily in his arms and he kissed her cheek softly. “Not gonna let you go, baby, I swear. I won’t let anything bad happen to you – not anymore,” he said as he gently brushed his rough fingers against her newly formed scar.

“I know, ‘Nemi. I promise I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered softly, and he smiled, thinking that he’d finally found someone to share himself with – someone whom he could shatter into should he feel like breaking, someone who could piece him back together so he could remain strong for the sake of others.

“I know, I trust you.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Oh, how wrong he was.

He swore to himself that he was only parted from her for a second as his pace and heart quickened – traversing through the blood-slicked greenery. Sanemi was plagued by loss – his siblings, his mother, his first love – but the feeling that it would happen yet again never lessened the blow nor the curdling acidity that coursed through his gut.

He frantically searched each corpse along the battlefield, hoping, praying, that he wouldn’t find her among them. Sanemi never considered himself religious – he would rather not believe in any god than believe that an almighty being could allow such devastation to course through his life – through others' lives. However, while mustering the waning strength of his muscles to keep him from collapsing, he called out to the universe – selfishly pleading with it to allow him to keep even a single shred of happiness within his life, swearing that he would give anything to ensure her safety, to secure her life as part of his own.

But the universe turned its back on him once again, as he saw a glimpse of her hair – but it wasn’t her hair. No, Sanemi knew that her hair shined in the morning sunlight, it was beautiful and soft as he would feel it between his fingers – it was never bloodied like it was now.

As he rushed over to Y/N, he nearly puked upon setting his eyes on her. There was a deep gash that cut through her torso – one that couldn’t have been caused by anything but the claws of a demon. He could see her entrails spewing out of it, and as his eyes traveled up towards her face, it was obvious that he was far too late. Her eyes – the ones he loved to get lost in, were lifeless; her lips – the ones that were so soft and loving when he kissed her, were parted in what seemed to be remnants of fear from the last moments of her life.

Sanemi couldn’t take it – and, as though pushed by an invisible force, he was knocked down to his knees.

A wretched sob escaped him as he reached towards her, uncaring of the blood and gore that stained his clothing, and he held her close to him. He sobbed out her name, wishing this was some horrible trick – some fucked up nightmare that he was subjected to, but the longer Sanemi held Y/N in his arms, the more he realized that this was real and that he had broken his promise once again – the promise to protect those close to him.

He picked her up and carried her to a clearing away from the battlefield – where a sole willow tree stood, and resolved to bury her there. As he placed Y/N into the ground, Sanemi wished to carve her name amongst the many scars on his body, so that maybe the blood spilled in her honor would somehow tether his soul to hers, so that he may permanently have her in a way that life itself could not provide.

Hours passed, and he finally managed to stand up once more, his heart hardened once again, and it took everything within him to not look back as he walked away from her gravesite. And, despite not wishing to look upon her grave again, Sanemi committed himself to continue living and fighting in her memory as Y/N slowly returned to dust underneath the lone willow.

And so he did — until his very last breath.

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