#sanemi fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sideofanime · 2 months

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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Sanemi (Demon Slayer)

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of fighting/violence

Word Count: 12K

Summary: You and Sanemi were once close until a fateful decision tore you both apart. A year later, you still struggle with your feelings for him, but Sanemi isn't going to make it easy for you to confess.

The wind hadn’t always been your enemy, but you felt each strike across exposed skin like a knife slicing through flesh as you raced through the forest. Under normal circumstances, your travels were poised with that special degree of flashiness that your mentor had instilled in you - moving with the wind and dodging every obstacle. But you found yourself in an unexpected rush, and you were pushing yourself far beyond your usual limits.

It wasn’t like you to lose track of time. In fact, if it hadn’t been for a recent clash with a demon that left a heavy burden of responsibility on your shoulders, you wouldn’t have forgotten the emergency meeting. Not until Kanao reminded you that her own mentor had already departed earlier that same morning.

For the most part, it was rare for a meeting of all ten Hashira to convene on such short notice, and it was rarer still for you to waltz into the Ubuyashiki estate after it had already started. Yet, you seemed to be going for some kind of record as this would be the second time you were showing up late to a meeting of this magnitude. You wondered, however briefly, if this would be strike two as your master had already sat you down once to scold you for the behavior.

You doubted they would extend you the courtesy of waiting to start this time around, and you could feel the heavy presence of your fellow Hashira as you neared your destination. Slowing to a stop on the estate’s grounds, feeling the exertion of pushing yourself in your throbbing feet. You allowed tentative steps until you stood outside the room where they had gathered, and you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable embarrassment.

It was with an uncharacteristic shyness that you slid the door open with trembling hands, and you could feel all ten pairs of eyes land in your direction. You grimaced at the attention: both for your undoubtedly unsightly appearance and the reprimand you were sure to face from your master once all was said and done.

Even so, Kagaya Ubuyashiki offered his usual generous smile when you dropped down next to Obanai, flinching at the hostile hiss from Kaburamaru. Unsurprising, considering the shoulders he coiled himself around as Obanai had ardently hated you for as long as you could remember. In return, your falcon Kaya returned a growl of her own, wings flexing as she perched on your shoulder. She had been flying behind you on the way over, but had taken to using you as her usual seat, talons flexing against your skin.

“Y/N,” Kagaya greeted you once you recovered your bearings. “Glad you could join us.”

“Sorry,” you whispered, startling again when Kaburamaru struck out in your direction, and you heard Obanai’s wince after Mitsuri elbowed him in the side.

You shot her a grateful smile, waving your hand to ward off Kaya’s returning strike. There was little doubt in your mind that your falcon could tear through Kaburamaru’s scales if given an opportunity. And you didn’t need to piss off Obanai more than you already had.

Thankfully, your master continued from where he had left off, and you glanced over your shoulder to meet the disapproving gaze of Kyojuro Rengoku. You wilted under his stare, feeling your face blossom with red, wondering if he knew the reason for your delayed appearance. It wouldn’t bode well for your reputation because Rengoku wasn’t much of a gossip, and if he was aware of your transgressions, then it likely meant everyone else knew as well.

It also meant that he knew, and your eyes unwittingly sought out Sanemi’s from across the room. You swallowed hard when your gaze became ensnared with his own, anger and hostility flickering vibrant flecks of fuschia in those irises you had once found comfort in. Sanemi knew, and you couldn’t help but deflate. He would take it the wrong way, and there was no reasoning with the stubborn man once he made up his mind.

You looked away in shame, keeping your head low as you focused on your master’s words. Apparently, there was a recent sighting of Muzan Kibutsuji in one of the villages near the Ubuyashiki estate. It might’ve been a coincidence, but nothing ever seemed to be the case with Muzan. The Demon King lacked that sort of nonchalance, preferring a clinical intentionality that meant the worst for your fellow Slayers.

“Be on vigilance,” your master warned, and you nodded along with the others. You could at least agree on your collective disdain for Muzan and the demons who remained loyal to him.

Your master quietly worked out a plan to investigate the alleged sighting: you weren’t surprised that he was dispatching Tomioka - the water Hashira made for a formidable opponent. And he was disarmingly good at moving with great stealth when he went on these reconnaissance operations.

The meeting adjourned thereafter, and you grunted when Obanai stood and let his knee graze your shoulder. “Prick,” you hissed at him. “Maybe next time I’ll let Kaya have a taste of serpent for her breakfast.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he spoke in that unnervingly calm voice. You had always loathed how controlled he appeared, no matter the circumstances.

“Iguro,” Mitsui gently interceded, curling one of her arms around his own. “Let’s have lunch together.”

He softened immediately at her words, and you rolled your eyes at the blatant favortism. At least it made him forget all about you, and you gave Mitsuri a subtle nod, slowly rising from where you had been crouched on the floor. You stretched your arms over your head, catching sight of Rengoku speaking in a low tone with Tengen. That was never a good sign.

It distracted you enough to miss the flash of purple at your side. Until she made her presence known. “You made quite an entrance,” a familiar voice spoke.

You let out an exhausted sigh, seeking Shinobu from the corner of your eye. “What have you heard?”

“What are you expecting me to say?” she returned in that annoyingly grating voice.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you longingly looked at the exit door. “You run the Butterfly Mansion. Shouldn’t you know everything?”

“Maybe not the whole truth,” Shinobu said with a little giggle as if amused by your situation. “That Slayer came in just last week, and you’ve suddenly made more appearances than the entire duration of our acquanticeship.”

Well, when she put it that way… “Listen,” you started, only to break off when you realized that your master was approaching the two of you, and his presence was not to be ignored.

“Y/N.”

You would have to clear the air another time, steeling yourself for the inevitable. “Sir?” you greeted him politely, reaching up to stroke a finger down Kaya’s chest.

Shinobu hummed, giving your master a polite smile as she followed Rengoku and Tengen out of the room, leaving just you, your master, and Sanemi. Kaya chirped happily at the sight of him, even as your own heart warred inside your chest. “May we speak alone, Sanemi?” Kagaya requested, and you restlessly shifted between your feet.

“Of course,” Sanemi replied, ever the polite gentleman when he wanted to be, making sure to bump his shoulder against your own as he waltzed by. Even more obnoxious was Kaya’s quick dismissal of you, hopping onto Sanemi’s shoulder as if wholly unaware of the blanketed tension between her two favorite people.

You were annoyed at her betrayal, knowing Sanemi did that on purpose just to aggravate you. He didn’t even bother to give Kaya back, leaving the room with your falcon in tow. But with a considerable demonstration of patience, you managed to school your expression, dropping to your knees in a show of respect to your master.

“It’s not like you to be late,” Kagaya remarked, coming to a stop in front of you. His fingers curled beneath your chin, forcing your neck to incline in his direction. “This is your second time.”

You wriggled under the weight of those unseeing eyes. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“Oh?”

“A young slayer who helped me on a recent mission,” you explained. “He was injured protecting me, and I’ve been going to see him to keep progress on his recovery. I lost track of time this morning. But I think…some of the others have taken it the wrong way.”

“How so?”

You immediately blushed. “I mean, they think my visits are less…innocent, sir.”

“And this has caused problems with your fellow Hashira?”

“With some of them,” you agreed, frowning as you thought of Obanai and Sanemi. The two had seemingly decided without conscious volition that they would be best friends. They always had each other’s backs, and it made sense that when one held a grudge, the other would also harbor the same resentment, even if unwarranted.

“This displeases me to hear,” Kagaya remarked, and you hated the idea of disappointing him. “After all, you have the same goals.”

“It’s my fault,” you said. “I will do my best to rectify the misunderstanding.”

“I know that you will,” Kagaya agreed. “Is this incident related to what happened the last time you were late?”

You swallowed hard. “No.”

That day in question had happened almost a year ago, when you and Sanemi fought to the point of mutual tears and splintered feelings, destroying any semblance of friendship. It had upset you so much that you slept well past your morning wake up call, causing you to nearly miss the entirety of the Hashira meeting in question. “When you fought with Sanemi.”

You nodded. “It wasn’t his fault. I was the one to blame.”

“Fights are usually mutual.”

The simple words surprised you, but you kept your expression blank. “It was my doing, sir.”

He didn’t understand. When you knew you were at fault, you often punished yourself - perhaps a result of your intense Kunoichi training from your younger years. The fight with Sanemi had been your own doing, and that innocent Slayer’s near-death experience had been your fault as well. Your thoughts became plagued with endless reminders of those occasions, playing through your head like a looping slideshow, exhausting you to the point that you were completely thrown off your game.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Y/N,” he said with a soft smile. “See to it that you learn to forgive yourself. I think this may resolve future problems.”

“Yes, sir,” you said - even though you would’ve feigned agreement for whatever he proposed, thinking yourself quite circumspect to have gotten off with such a generous punishment.

Unfortunately, it was easier said than done in your case. Forgiveness was hard-fought where you came from, especially if it meant pardoning one’s own transgressions. The worst sin of them all.

Rengoku was like an older brother, having been friends with Tengen for as long as you could remember. The two of them practically helped raise you after you ran away from your clan. Even moreseo when Tengen took you under his wing as a Tsukugo.

You weren’t surprised when you noticed Rengoku lingering outside after your master dismissed you. He was always checking in. “You waited,” you remarked as way of greeting.

“Tardiness is not an attribute tolerated in your Clan,” Kyojuro chuckled. “At least, not the way Tengen has explained it to me.”

“No,” you agreed, and you were touched that Rengoku had went out of his way to understand. He had done so ever since he first learned about the warrior traditions taught to you and Tengen as children - having grown up in the same clan of Shinobi and Kunoichi fighters before you both turned your backs on those ways.

“That means I should be worried about you,” Kyojuro continued, hands crossed behind his back. “If such values are so recklessly abandoned after having been instilled in you since childhood.”

“I wouldn’t say recklessly,” you argued, turning your thoughts to the Slayer that had caused such turmoil. He was young, far too young in your opinion, and you had been surprised to have him join you on your latest mission. It wasn’t uncommon for young Slayers to accompany you when a mission posed to be a challenge. They could assist you and learn in the process. But this Slayer had been far too willing to intercede and take the full brunt of a strike meant for you.

It was the same kind of self-sacrifice that your Clan honored in their warriors. But one that Tengen had taught you meant nothing if the mission was left in shambles and there were no warriors left to fight another day. For years, you struggled to dismiss the instilled inclination, even after hearing it disparaged so easily from such a prominent member of your former Clan, and it wasn’t until Sanemi Shinazugawa sat down to speak to you that you learned to value yourself.

“What’s the point?” Sanemi had grunted, sitting next to you side by side on the roof of his Pillar estate. For several weeks, you had been spending all of your nights with him, preferring his company to the silence of your little estate. “If you go down in a mission like that, with all those kids who need you for guidance, how the fuck are they supposed to survive?”

Your heart ached at the memory, even as you reaffirmed that Rengoku was wrong - the recklessness that defined so many of your Clan’s teachings had gradually disappeared in place of a strong sense of self-preservation. The guilt too, that had once plagued you for putting your own life over others, was nothing but a distant feeling.

Even if you still battled daily with the nastier parts of yourself that had been molded so impurely by your clan.

Rengoku laughed at your denial, but his eyes spoke volumes. “Don’t give me that look,” you huffed at him, hating the height advantage he had over you.

“What look?”

“Your disapproval,” you remarked. “I can feel it.”

“Fascinating,” Kyujuro hummed. “But I don’t wish to argue.”

“Advice then?”

“Always!”

You had grown used to his boisterous attitude, but that didn’t mean you wanted to deal with it at this moment. “Rengoku-”

“Y/N!” he returned. “First, tell me about your relations with this new slayer.”

Your face instantaneously heated at his bold words. “There are no relations!” you hissed.

“Really? Everyone else speaks differently,” he said, forcing an eye roll from you. “And here I thought you had affections for young Shinazugawa.”

“Where did you get that idea?” you deadpan, wondering how anyone could mistake the frequent exchange of barbs between you and Sanemi as affectionate.

Rengoku didn’t respond immediately, instead taking the time to study you with a curious look. “I may not be the best at reading people, but I had never seen Shinazugawa spend as much time with anyone like he did with you.”

“You have no idea-” you started, only to break off at the sound of approaching footsteps and the all too-familiar call of your raven. “Great,” you muttered, trying to ignore Kaya’s excited chirps. Your battle-trained falcon was difficult to impress, and only one man had ever successfully won over her favor.

As well as your own.

You felt Kaya return to your shoulder at the same moment Sanemi chose to speak. “You were late again.”

You narrowed your eyes, releasing a long-suffering sigh. “I know.”

“What’s your excuse this time?” he questioned, and you hated the condescension in his tone. Like he was better than you.

“Y/N…”

Rengoku’s intonation of your name held a warning, but Sanemi had learned long ago how to crawl under your skin. You brushed aside Kyojuro, turning around to face Sanemi, hating the smug grin lighting a teasing glint in his gaze. “Back off, Shinazugawa. I don’t have time for your shit.”

“Yeah? But you waste our time fucking off with that slayer?”

There was a strange undercurrent of something vile in his question that you had never heard before. It felt bitter coming from him, crawling across your skin with a shiver.

You weren’t surprised that Sanemi knew about the slayer, but the idea of you fucking around with anyone had your hackles raising. You hated that everyone had assumed the worst; instead of an innocent gesture, they decided you had taken the slayer to bed. As if you would use your position of power over him in such a way.

“What’s your problem?” you snapped.

“I’m looking at my problem,” he growled in return.

“You have no idea,” you said. “You couldn’t be more wrong, and it’s none of your business.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Rengoku quickly inserted himself, coming to stand between you and Sanemi. “Y/N, Tengen wants to see you later. If you leave now, you can be at his estate before dark.”

You swallowed down your pride, glaring at Sanemi. That ego of yours, fed from your parents at such a young age, had never gone away. “Fine,” you agreed, even though it physically hurt to be the one to back down.

The combined weight of their stares as you retreated felt like heavy flames rolling over your shoulders. Rengoku would no doubt reprimand Sanemi for his behavior, but the Wind Hashira had a rebellious streak. He had decided that you were his enemy, and no simple conversation would change his mind.

It hurt you to recall the past and your more tender exchanges. You hadn’t always shared a hostile relationship with Sanemi. When you met for the first time, he made an off-hand comment about your small size, to which you responded in kind by laying him out on his ass in the middle of the other gathered Hashira. After that, you both gradually warmed up to one another, spending a great deal of time training together as your breathing techniques were remarkably complementary. Your Falcon breathing thrived in the breezes afforded by his different wind forms, sharpening your attacks and allowing them to gain incredible speed.

Gyomei himself had once interrupted a session, making a random comment about your compatibility. You laughed at his observation, even as Sanemi remained unusually quiet from next to you. “Are you ready for your first mission?” Gyomei had asked.

“Of course,” you replied, closing your hands behind your back as you stood before the older Hashia proudly.

“I’ll be with her, so don’t get any ideas, idiot.” Sanemi glared at Gyomei, and you were surprised to learn that he requested to join your first mission, but you weren’t opposed to the idea. You thought about it a lot as you continued training, studying Sanemi in a different light. Afterward, laying side by side under the watchful gaze of the stars, you thought that your heart would burst from your chest, and it had nothing to do with the exertion of your training; rather, the proximity of Sanemi so close to you, scars awash in the gentle glow of the moon’s light.

You enjoyed your visits to Tengen’s lavish estate, especially when his wives joined you. Having come from the same clan of Shinobi and Kunoichi warriors, it wasn’t unusual for you to take comfort in their presence. Especially considering your close history together.

Originally, you were meant to be Tengen’s third wife, a point of contention between you and your own father. However, after Suma stepped forward and requested to be the third, you easily allowed her to take your place. Angering and ostracizing your parents in the process, and pushing you away to live on your own away from the Clan.

For a long time, you wandered from place to place, never quite fitting in. It was difficult to find work that suited you since your entire life had been spent training for battle and fighting as opposed to menial labor positions. You did the best you could, but found yourself miserable for the year you spent in isolation.

Eventually, Tengen sought you out after leaving the clan himself, and he managed to find you in a remote village. You had been surprised to see him, but it wasn’t all that shocking to learn that he cared too much to leave you to self-implode. It made sense considering all of your time spent together, nurturing romantic feelings, and he had been right about your tendency to shut down when things weren’t going the way you planned. “Is there room for a fourth wife?” you had joked with him, but he understood that you didn’t mean it, having never truly wanted a path that you didn’t choose for yourself. Instead, he agreed to take you on as his Tsukugo, training you up to become the Hashira that your younger self would’ve been proud to see.

Ironically, you would’ve made a great partner to Tengen - the two of you had quietly admitted that on numerous occasions. You had known him for your entire life, and you both thought alike, holding long conversations together without a trace of awkwardness, and your differences were complementary to one another. You even had your first kiss with Tengen, just to see if those compatibilites might extend physically. It had aroused you to shameful degree; although, you had certainly lost those feelings for him overtime, considering him a close friend and mentor as opposed to a real partner.

You frowned at the reminder, thinking about the differences between Tengen and Sanemi. At different points in your life, you had affections for both Hashira; although, a reluctant part of you admitted that your feelings for Tengen had disappeared whereas your attachment to Sanemi had never quite done the same. But it was too late to entertain such feelings, even if it hurt to settle for the torrid relationship your friendship had become.

Things were complicated with Sanemi. But it was much easier with Tengen, and you found yourself smiling as you stepped up to the main entrance of his estate. “Y/N!”

You recognized Suma’s voice immediately, glancing to the side as she ran around from the back of the mansion. “Suma,” you greeted her cheerfully, groaning when she threw her arms around your shoulders, jostling Kaya from her place on your shoulder. Your falcon let out an ear-piecing screech before taking to the skies, no doubt deciding that she wouldn’t be needed at the Uzui estate.

“We’ve been waiting for you!” she cried, keeping you locked tightly to her as you both ambled through the door.

Makio and Hinatsuru were waiting inside, laughing at the way you tried to pull out of Suma’s arms. “You’re smothering her,” Hinatsuru said, and Suma reluctantly allowed you to escape her grip. “Tengen is in the drawing room,” she continued. “He wants to speak to you alone.”

“Alone?” you released a breath through your nose, feeling your heart drop at the somber note in her tone. “Okay.”

“He’s worried about you, Y/N,” Suma added, searching you closely.

“I get it,” you muttered, even though it was hard to stay mad at any of them. But you had been lectured all day, and Tengen had a tendency to ramble on for hours if he felt like he needed to do so.

You obeyed regardless, leaving the three girls to huddle close together, whispering amongst themselves, as you followed the familiar meandering hallways that never seemed to end - a testament to the size of Tengen’s mansion. Not that you expected anything less of the man. He enjoyed showing off in any way that he could.

The door was open when you arrived, stepping through to see Tengen already sitting on a cushion on the ground, legs crossed beneath him. You raised a brow, noting that the table was already set, a kettle of what smelled like tea at the center with two cups on either side.

You took your place without question, dropping down on the opposite cushion from where he watched you with a friendly smile. “You’re on time!” he remarked, and you snorted at the unamusing joke.

“I’ve heard enough about it,” you said. “From our master AND Rengoku.”

“Then I can keep my own words brief,” he replied, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Let’s hear it then.”

“Y/N!”

“What?” you snapped, only feeling a little guilty for using such a snippish tone with him.

“Your mind is troubled,” Tengen said, ignoring your tempestutous temper. “I assume all is not right about what I’ve heard of you and this Slayer.”

You gritted your teeth, recalling to him the same explanation you had given your master. “Everyone was quick to assume the worst in me.”

“I see.” Tengen nodded. “Does that bother you?”

“Of course it does,” you snipped. “They all have bad opinions of my character.”

“Is it really everyone’s opinion you care about, or one person’s in particular?” Tengen asked with a smirk. “Shinazugawa, perhaps?”

“Is that what this is really about?” you asked. “You want to give me another talk about Sanemi?”

“He seems to be at the forefront of most of your troubles,” Tengen said. “You were quite heartbroken over your fight with him.”

“I wouldn’t say heartbroken,” you retorted, but Tengen could see right through you - right at the center of the affection you wore for Sanemi so clearly on your sleeve.

“Have you spoken to Sanemi about this misunderstanding?” Tengen asked, reaching over to pour himself a second cup of tea. “You used to talk quite often.”

“We don’t talk like that anymore,” you said, wincing at the pathetic way you sounded. Like a kicked puppy whose favorite person scolded them. “He’s infuriating. After I left the estate, he was right there questioning me. He even called me his problem.”

Tengen considered your words. “He’s very brash with his approach. You should’ve told him the truth!”

“He gave me no opportunity,” you said, wincing as you recalled the brief interaction. “He never does anymore…”

Pathetic. You were a lovesick fool. Sanemi could smash your face into the ground with the sole of his shoe and your silly heart would still find a way to beat off rhythm in his presence.

“It started after you told him about your marriage contract,” Tengen remarked, gaze boring into your own. “You don’t think that hurt him to hear?”

The marriage contract - the bane of your existence. It had once almost trapped you into a marriage you had never wanted with Tengen, and years later, the damn thing was still laughing at you. “He never told me,” you argued. “Sanemi has never said anything about having those kinds of feelings. He had plenty of chances to speak up if he did, and he knew I was trying to make things right with my parents and the clan.”

Even though you had abandoned the clan in favor of living on your own, you hated the thought of completely ostraciszing yourself - from the family that you still loved despite the past. Even if you no longer respected their traditions, you often thought back on the situation with a different light and a clearer head. There was only one regret that lingered, and it was the burdening responsibility you felt for your younger siblings - for leaving them behind to suffer the clan’s cruelty and twisted values. It became obvious to you that the only way you could extend an olive branch and see your siblings again, was agreeing to marry another Shinobi when he finally came of age.

You convinced yourself that you didn’t mind so much this time since it had been a Shinobi of your choosing, but there was a part of you that boiled at the idea of giving yourself away to someone you had no real feelings for. At least you could reconnect with your family - to the siblings you adored. The same brothers and sisters they wouldn’t allow you to visit since you left the clan, losing any privilege of being part of their lives.

At least this marriage came with freedom - you could still continue your duties as a Hashira while living away from the clan, and the Shinobi’s other wives could handle most of the duties expected of a spouse. The relationship, in your eyes, amounted to nothing more than your signature on a piece of paper. After that, everything would be right again, especially with your family. Maybe then you could lure your siblings away from negative influences.

But Sanemi hadn’t seen it the same way. When he learned about your new marriage contract, the two of you fought bitterly and without mincing your words. Even in the present, you couldn’t understand what bothered him so much - this was the only path you could take, and he had never given any indication that such a decision would lead to long-lasting repercussions to the closeness you once shared:

“You wear them proudly,” you had remarked to him on your last morning together. It wasn’t unusual for him to spend the night with you, and despite ordering a spare room prepared for his arrival, Sanemi had made himself more than comfortable in your bed.

“Hmmm?” He opened one eye to look at you, watching as you trailed your fingers across the scars on his exposed chest.

“I have something to tell you,” you whispered, as if the peace of the room would be disturbed at a higher register.

“What is it?” he asked with a lazy tone, more than content to wander back to sleep as his hands crossed behind his head, goosebumps forming in the wake of your light touches.

“I’m taking a brief leave of absence,” you said, and you could literally feel the muscles under your fingers tense as both eyes flew open.

“What for?” he immediately questioned, jostling you as he sat up higher. “How long?”

You sighed, pulling yourself upright. You had spent long enough in bed, and you rose to your feet with an exaggerated stretch of your arms above your head. “It might be a month,” you explained.

“You’re leaving for that long?”

You looked at him from over your shoulder. Sanemi’s tone was strangely morbid, watching you move about your room, collecting the things you would need. “Just for a little while,” you sighed. “I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home,” you replied simply, frowning as you looked over the wrinkles on one of your nicest kimonos. Your family would expect you to dress the part, and you wished you had taken the time to be more careful with your old clothes.

“To your Clan?” Sanemi scoffed, and you could hear the floors creaking beneath his weight as he stood up from the bed. “What the fuck are you going back for?”

“I’m going to see my family,” you explained. “You know I’ve been trying to see my siblings again, and this is the perfect opportunity to do so.”

“I thought they refused,” he grumbled, and you turned to face him. “Y/N…” he trailed off when his gaze met your own, struggling to find the right words. “I need to tell you something…”

“Yes?” you prompted him because Sanemi looked unusually sheepish, messing his hands through the disorderly locks of his spiky hair.

But this was Sanemi, and you were amused when he forced his way through, boisterously declaring: “Let’s spend more time together, outside of training,” he said as if you didn’t already do so. “The way things are supposed to be done. Properly.’

His words didn’t make much sense to you, but Sanemi seemed awfully proud of himself, and you would hate to take away that rare smile you could never get enough of seeing. “Of course,” you agreed. “Once the marriage arrangements are done, we can do whatever you’d like.”

“Marriage arrangements?”

It was like the temperature in the room plumeted at once, and your own look of confusion likely matched the one reflected on Sanemi. “Well, yes, I explained it to you before: my parents proposition for letting me see my siblings,” you said. “I’m to marry one of our clan’s Shinobi when he comes of age. In exchange, I get to keep my Hashira spot and see my family more often.”

You nodded when you were finished - the deal made perfect sense in your mind, and you knew your parents were being very flexible by letting you get away with so much. Even so, Sanemi’s perplexed frown quickly evolved into something that you could only describe as mutinous. “Are you fucking serious?” he growled, and you shivered at the anger in his tone. “I thought you were over that. Isn’t there a different way you could still see them that doesn’t involve whoring yourself out?”

You grimaced at his crude choice of words. “It’s not the way of my Clan,” you explained. “The Kunoichi in my clan are honored through marriage - the highest they can achieve. I defied them once before, letting Tengen go. I can’t do that again.”

The explanation made sense to you - after all, you weren’t the same girl who felt coerced into marrying Tengen. Instead, you had grown into a powerful Hashira, and you were fine with this decision since it is one you had made on your own.

But it was obvious that Sanemi wasn’t seeing it the same way, and you were stunned by the aggression in Sanemi’s stance, fists balled at his sides. “You said you followed your own path!”

“I am!” you insisted, starting to feel yourself grow a bit perturbed by his unwarranted anger. “If I want to see my siblings, I must regain my Clan’s honor and make my parents happy. I have no other choice,” you said. “This is a decision I have come to on my own.”

“You didn’t want it last time!” Sanemi said, daring a step closer. “Why the hell is this any different?”

“Because,” you emphasized. “I am the one agreeing to the proposal, and I was able to make my own conditions for the marriage.”

Sanemi scoffed. “Are you that desperate for their validation that you would literally bind yourself to someone you’ve never even met?”

“That’s not what this is about!” you cried. “I have a duty to my family-”

“You have a duty to yourself,” Sanemi interrupted. “If they can’t see how much you hate the idea, then they don’t deserve you.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is!” he said. “They’re using you, Y/N. Manipulating you to get what they want - who the hell do you really think benefits the most from this? Certainly not you, but I guess your parents and the lucky jackass signing that fucking contract deserve more than your happiness?”

“I get to stay a Hashira,” you insisted. “And I don’t have to live at the Clan’s village or with the Shinobi. I get to do what I want.”

“You’re fucking naive if you think that’s how it’ll work,” Sanemi growled. “They’ll figure out a way to trap you there - to force you back into that clan for good.”

“No they won’t,” you hissed, incredulous that he could think of you like that - as a person less than capable of understanding. As someone incapable of discerning the intentions of their own family! “How can you think so low of me? I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah?” Sanemi laughed - choking back a noise that sounded dangerously similar to a sob. “What happens to you later in life when you want to be with someone who actually cares about you? Will you need a mediator to negotiate a divorce contract with your fucking clan?”

“Stop it!” you warned, unaware of how close the two of you had gotten during your spat, practically toe to toe as you fiercely met his gaze. “I don’t need your permission, and I would think you might be more mindful of my feelings.”

“Not like you give a damn about my feelings!” Sanemi retorted. “I’ve put it all out there and you stomp on it like some kind of vindictive bitch.”

You winced at the insult, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “The only thing you’ve done is help me see how much of an asshole you really are! As if I’d let your crude opinions come between me and my own family!”

“Right,” he drew out, and you were taken aback at the raw emotion in his voice. “I get it, Y/N. I’ll always play second fiddle to the clan and your family. They could throw you into a pit full of demons and you’d still fall to your fucking knees and pray to your stupid idols.”

“You have no idea,” you said, despising the quiver in your tone. “You don’t know my Clan.”

“Sounds like you don’t know them all that well either,” Sanemi snarled. “To not see through their bullshit. Guess I was wrong to think you were strong enough to move on even after leaving.”

“I am strong!” you snapped. “Don’t you dare look at me and call me weak! I’m sacrificing for them-”

“Exactly!” Sanemi said. “You have to make all the sacrifices just to meet them halfway. They’ve never extended the same courtesy, and I guess we need a fucking baseball bat to get that through your thick skull!”

“Get out!” you screamed, unable to keep your anger from simmering over, beyond repulsed that the man standing in front of you had managed to insult you, your family, and clan in one fell swoop - the same man you had considered a close confidant and the one you harbored sweet affections for in ways you could only whisper to friends like Suma or Misturi.

As if he would ever return them, especially if this is the way he thought about you! “Fine,” he whispered, and you startled when the first tear fell. You had never seen Sanemi cry before, and you found yourself completely immobilized as he roughly swiped the sleeve of his uniform against the wet trails.

He didn’t say anything else. Not bothering to rectify his harsh reprimand or the uneasy tension left stewing between you. Instead, Sanemi slammed the door behind him, rattling it against the hinges, and leaving you to fall into a broken heap on the floor.

Even a year later, the memory made you feel guilty all over again, and you tried to keep your tears in check this time as you turned to your old habit of fighting through the pain. “I explained it to him the best I could,” you argued, glaring down at your tea cup. “How else should I break that kind of news?”

“You don’t,” Tengen said. “I disagree with your decision.”

“Yeah, I know,” you glowered. Tengen had made that very clear. “But I had to do it. My parents weren’t speaking to me, and they wouldn’t let my brothers and sisters around…” You trailed off, feeling your throat become thick with emotion.

“Family comes first.”

“I admire your commitment, but it’s your true family that comes first,” Tengen quickly amended. “If your parents really cared, they wouldn’t have those expectations of you.”

“Well,” you said, allowing a sinister edge to creep in. “You certainly had no issue with your family’s decision. I didn’t see you complain not once when you married your wives.”

His gaze darkened right back. “If I truly followed that tradition through, then Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru would’ve been trapped in that village. They would fear me instead of the respect we share now.” He cleared his throat, reigning in some of the raw anger you had briefly seen reflected in those violet irises. “You and I might be married instead.”

You wrinkled your nose and Tengen laughed at the reaction. All at once, the tension dispelled from the room, and you frowned. If only it could that easy with Sanemi. “Why are you doing this?”

Tengen hummed around his tea cup, and you snickered at how small it looked held between his fingers. “I’ve never claimed to be a matchmaker,” he said. “But you’ve told me about your feelings for Sanemi, and I doubt they’ve gone away. Even after all this time.”

“Tengen-”

“His feelings for you are quite obvious as well,” he interrupted, quickly moving on before you had a chance to intercede. “He hides them well, of course. But I’m left wondering why you insist on letting a piece of paper keep you from the happiness you deserve.”

“It’s not the contract keeping me from anything!” you said. “Sanemi said the most vile things to me. How can I hope to salvage anything from the destruction he left? And for what reason? Why did he treat me like I was an enemy?”

“It may be that young Shinazugawa has decided that it would hurt too much to treat you as anything less than a romantic partner,” Tengen said. “Going back to friendship…” he trailed off with a contemplative hum. “He seems like the type of person who is stubborn in their ways.”

“Even if it wasn’t just Sanemi, I still have to appease my family-”

“There are always other ways to get you back to your siblings. Your parents cannot refuse their Clan leaders,” Tengen said. “I know that I left the Clan, but there are those who would still allow my influence. If it meant allowing you to see your siblings again.”

A soothing warmth formed at the center of your chest at his willingness to go out of his way for you, especially if it meant dealing with the clan. Perhaps he had, in few words, proven his point about his definition of a true family. It felt that way with Tengen and the other Hashira - like you could be some semblance of a family, even if you sometimes bickered.

You were touched more than anything else, forcing down any remaining argument. “You shouldn’t have to do that. Not after the way your father deceived you, and the horrible things he made you go through. Not for someone like me.”

“Well, I’ve found my happiness,” he conceded, gesturing toward the door as if his wives were waiting on the other side. “Even if it was once under the illusion of marriage, I also promised to guarantee yours as well.”

“And you think my happiness is with Shinazugawa?”

“Yes,” Tengen readily agreed, slamming his cup back onto the table. “I’m certain that it is.”

“He barely tolerates you,” you grumbled, finding yourself lost in another memory:

“Why do you like that bumbling idiot so much?” Sanemi growled, eyes carefully examining your face as you continued to dress his arm in the bandages Shinobu had brought you.

He had been injured during his latest mission. Choosing to come to you instead of the Butterfly Mansion. Where they could undoubtedly treat him more efficiently.

“Tengen and I have history,” you reminded him.

“I’m aware,” he said in a tone much colder than you expected.

“He reminds me of home,” you continued, hoping to appease him. “I don’t hear much from the Clan otherwise.”

“Your Clan doesn’t deserve you,” Sanemi said, leaning in closer despite the startling proximity it left between your lips. “Your home is here with us.”

Each puff of breath against the slick skin of your lips sent a tremble down your spine. “Sanemi,” you said, clicking your tongue as you finished treating his wound. “It’s my family.”

You knew it would be harder for him to empathize considering his tumultuous history with his own family, and you weren’t surprised by his response. “Family doesn’t always mean the ones who share your blood.”

“Talk to him.” Tengen’s voice pulled you back into the drawing room with him, reaching over to pour you the cup of tea you had denied yourself. “Even if you proceed with your marriage, your mind will be less burdened knowing you at least told him how you felt.”

You frowned, hating that he was right.

On Thursdays, you sat with Gyomei among the vibrant wisteria flowers in his backyard. It was a tradition that started on accident - when you caught the Stone Hashia in the middle of a meditation session, finding yourself curious about the display.

He had heard you sneaking through the gardens and invited you to join him. But one invitation had extended to as many as you desired, and you always returned when you needed to clear your mind.

“You poor child,” Gyomei said as you struggled to forget about your conversation with Tengen from the evening prior. “Focus.”

“I can’t,” you sighed, pouting up at him even if he couldn’t see you.

“What troubles you?” he asked, letting out a deep exhale as he sat cross-legged on the grass.

“How much time do you have?” you grunted, tucking your legs further beneath you in an attempt to copy his pose.

“I feel you hurting,” Gyomei said. “It’s remarkably similar to the same emotion I felt yesterday when Sanemi visited.”

“Sanemi came here?” you asked, wincing at the desperation in your tone. You might as well wear a sign around your neck proclaiming your crush in bold-faced letters.

Gyomei hummed, bringing his hands together in front of him. “Sanemi is hurting too.”

“Hurting?” you repeated, feeling a sharp pin-prick of panic run ice through your veins. “Was he injured?”

“Not physical pain,” Gyomei chuckled, reaching over to ruffle your hair like he found you to be a cute puppy. You grimaced at the contact, smoothing the strands back into place. “Somewhere here.” You stiffened when his pointer finger pressed against the center of your chest. “Inside.”

“Not Sanemi!” you protested. “He doesn’t…He doesn’t let his emotions affect him.”

“Y/N.” Gyomei’s tone was gentle but appraising. “Even Sanemi isn’t immune to the whims of the soul.”

A breeze tickled the back of your neck, alleviating some of the heat there. “Did you ask him about it?”

“I told him to speak his mind,” Gyomei said, and a smile brightened his features. “He spoke of another Hashira, and I think you’re smart enough to figure out the rest.”

Huh? Sanemi mentioned you to Gyomei? You longed to ask the Stone Hashira to give you all the details of their conversation. But Gyomei would never betray another’s trust like that.

Even so, you apologized when you told him that you wouldn’t be able to stay. “I don’t think I’d make good company for you today,” you said, and Gyomei simply hummed in response.

You stood to brush the grass from your uniform pants. “Y/N,” Gyomei said before you could take your leave. “I did tell Sanemi that he should go see you soon. Perhaps you should prepare for a visit.”

Your eyes widened at the mere thought of having Sanemi back in such an intimate space. “Thank you, Gyomei.”

“Listen to him with an open mind,” Gyomei said to your retreating back. “Sanemi may not express himself well, but his eyes always betray him.”

You shivered at his words, and those fierce hues of violet that you adored so much followed you all the way home.

You were truly pathetic. It had been days since your conversation with Gyomei, and you spent them lounging around your estate, waiting like an impatient dog. What if Sanemi showed up when you were out on a mission?

The idea was unfairly troubling, and so you waited, feet propped up in front of you as you reclined on the futon in the main room, eyes closed against a slit of sunshine beaming in through the door. It felt like a punishment - maybe some form of recompense for all you had done to mess things up. If that was to be the case, then you could tolerate the pause on everything else in your life, giving all your attention to Sanemi.

After all, even your master had, in his eloquent manner, asked you to resolve the problem with yourself, and this was the way you had to do it. Even so, you couldn’t fault any of the others for growing worried about your absence, which is why you weren’t all surprised to hear a familiar voice calling out your name as they let themself inside.

You opened one eye, watching as Suma entered the room. “Oh? This is a surprise.”

“Well, you’re not usually moping around,” Suma remarked, studying you lounging across the futon, feet curled together at the end.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “Where’s the rest of you?”

“Tengen sent me alone,” Suma explained. “He’s been worried about you.”

“Is that so?” The automatic response came unbidden, even as you knew that your questions were unfair. Vague, non-commital things that spoke of your desire to be alone. To wallow in self-pity and remorse.

“Y/N,” Suma said in that nagging tone that she had likely learned from her husband. “What’s the point of this rebellion?”

“I wouldn’t call it that…” you said, groaning as you forced yourself to sit up. “I guess it is self-imposed.”

“Is this about the marriage contract?” Suma huffed. “That nasty Clan. We all know that it isn’t worth returning just for them to poison your good heart. I know you want to save your brothers and sisters, but there must be another way.”

“It’s not about the contract!” The damn thing came up during every conversation that you were involved in. “That doesn’t even matter. For the Clan, I’ve already defied them once before…”

“Defying the clan doesn’t make you a bad daughter,” Suma said. “If your parents can’t respect your choices, then they’re the ones who are wrong.”

“It’s not that I want to be in the Clan,” you grumbled. “I hate their ways just as much as you and the others. It just feels like I’ve always failed in the things I’m supposed to be responsible for. I failed to fit into the Clan because I despised their traditions, I failed as the oldest sister for leaving her siblings behind, and I even failed as a warrior.” Your eyes burned at the prospect of tears. “I failed to protect that slayer on my last mission, and I failed Sanemi when I hurt him…”

“None of those things are true,” Suma immediately denied in a tone fiercer than anything you had ever heard from the warrior - the same one who once sobbed into your arms in gratitude when you gave up your marriage to her husband. “Tengen was right, Y/N, you’ve always been way too hard on yourself. You want to shoulder the burden of responsibility, but most of those things are beyond your control.”

You considered her words, begrudgingly admitting to yourself that there was obvious merit and truth to them. “It doesn’t feel that way…”

“Because you haven’t learned to just let go,” Suma said, sitting down next to you on the futon to take your hands in her own. “It’s alright, you know? To let go of the things that hurt you before they consume you. There are no expectations from any of us, Y/N, for you to be anything more than the Falcon Hashira who saves innocent people and works relentlessly to make the world better.”

Subconsciously, your grip on her hands tightened. “I’ve already fucked everything up at this point. I tried to do what I thought was right.”

“Tengen said there are other ways to see your siblings-”

“I know what he said!” Your cold tone cut in, but you couldn’t help your outburst. Not when it had been fueled by frustration that mounted every second. “But I don’t want him to be involved. I don’t want people to go out of the way for me.”

“We’re a family!” Suma insisted. “We take care of each other. Tengen knows enough to keep himself safe from the Clan.”

“Even if it’s not the clan, I’ve already burned every bridge with Shinazugawa. I ruined our friendship, and I made him fucking cry, Suma! Did I ever tell you that? He cried that day we fought.”

Suma was clearly caught off-guard by your confession. Maybe even more so because you could feel the corners of your eyes stinging with the promise of tears. “Y/N.”

Your throat felt dry. Ears ringing.

“I can’t speak on Sanemi’s feelings, but it seems like he was upset that he was losing you.”

Your tongue lay utterly useless in your mouth as you tried to make sense of it. “That’s not true. I wasn’t going back to the Clan full time. He told me I was weak.”

“Did he say those exact words?” Suma challenged. “I don’t know him that well, but it seems like Sanemi isn’t the type to control his emotions when he’s upset.”

“That doesn’t give him the right to lose his shit!”

“No, but it should tell you how much it bothered him.” Suma let a huff of breath escape. “Did you even ask him how he felt about it?”

“He didn’t give me the opportunity.” She was taking up for Sanemi, and you wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to do that. You blamed yourself plenty and had always given him the benefit of the doubt.

“Well, based on what I’ve heard, you might want to consider visiting the Wind Pillar estate…”

“Suma-” You broke off at the uncomfortable sensation of a shiver snaking its way up the length of your spine.

Your instincts whipered that you and Suma were no longer alone, and they were proven correct when you whipped your head in the direction of a familiar head of onyx-black hair walking into the room. “Tomioka.”

Suma blinked at the name, following your gaze to where the Water Hashira stood with your attendant muttering apologies from behind him. Apparently, Tomioka was the type to make himself more than comfortable in your estate, even without permission. Although, you found that you were even more troubled by the fact that in all your years of camaraderie, Tomioka had never once come to visit you.

From behind him, your frazzled attendant cleared her throat, blushing bright red. “Master, he came in without an invitation.”

“It’s alright.” You brushed off her concerns. Tomioka didn’t seem like the type to go out of his way for anything. If he came here to speak to you, then he wouldn’t leave without doing so.

“Y/N.” Tomioka was always short with his words, perfunctory in a way that made you respect him.

“Uh-” Suma inserted herself awkwardly, standing up from the futon. “I can give you both a moment alone.”

You nodded, watching her retreat from the room. She moved around Tomioka, sending a suspicious glare in his direction. You allowed a succession of pulsating silence before breaking it: “You’ve never visited before.”

You studied Tomioka as he carried himself further into the room, reaching behind himself to close off the partition separating the foyer from the main room. “My apologies,” he said, offering no further explanation as he took Suma’s spot next to you on the futon. “I’m not one for gossip-” You snorted in interruption, whispering an apology at his responding stare. “The situation with you and Sanemi is affecting the rest of the Hashira,” he continued. “I’ve decided to intervene.”

“Giyu-”

“You knew you had feelings for him,” Tomioka persisted, giving you no room to protest. “Even before the contract.”

Always straight to the point. “Yes,” you sighed. “But what’s the point of remaining chaste if I didn’t know if he reciprocated? I’m not sure if you know about my clan-”

“I know about all of it.” Tomioka cleared his throat. “Sanemi told me.”

“He did?”

“You should’ve told him about your feelings regardless.” Tomioka ignored your question, but he seemed determined to get his point across. “I think your honesty would’ve made him see reason in ways that I couldn’t.”

You flinched at his words. “In ways you couldn’t?”

“It’s my fault,” Tomioka said, looking down as if in shame. “I pushed him to go after you. The day you told him about your plans for your marriage, I convinced him to tell you that he had feelings for you.”

You were silent at his confession. Tomioka had done what? As if acting on unconscious urging, you moved closer to him, smelling the scent of fresh water lilies on his skin. “You couldn’t have known.”

“It’s the reason why he hates me,” Tomioka whispered, and despite wearing an empty expression, there was an uncanny sadness in Tomioka that made you want to lean in and offer some kind of reassurance.

“Giyu-” you tried to protest until you were interrupted by the sound of the partition sliding against its track, revealing a surprised Sanemi standing on the other side.

There was a brief moment where all three of you were stunned into silence, before the sound of Suma’s screech reached your ears. “Y/N,” Suma shrieked from behind him, waving her hands through the air. “He let himself in! I couldn’t get him to stop!”

You’re suddenly made aware of your closeness to Giyu, nearly jumping back in your haste to create some distance. What were the odds that Sanemi would choose to make his grand arrival on the same afternoon when both Tomioka and Suma had decided to visit you? After days of waiting for him, trusting Gyomei’s word, he shows up when youleast expect it.

“Tomioka.” Sanemi’s tone was strangely cold.

“Shinazugawa,” Giyu returned in a calm manner, simply rising from where he had been sitting next to you.

“Oh please.” Sanemi sneered, flickering his gaze between the two of you. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

He was walking away in the next moment, and you jumped into action, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste to catch him. You made it to the front door without making a complete fool of yourself, leaning against the entryway when you cupped your hands over your mouth. “Shinazugawa,” you nearly snarled at his retreating form. “We need to talk.”

You could see every muscle tensed and coiled beneath the tight fabric of Sanemi’s uniform top.

For a moment, you thought he would just ignore you and keep walking, but he defied your expectations. His shoulders dropped under the weight of a visible exhale, glancing back at you. “Well?”

“Let me see them off first,” you said, throwing a distracted hand back at Suma and Tomioka who were standing together behind you. “You can meet me in our usual spot-” you broke off, startled at the words - at how easy it was for you to say them as if you had never missed a beat.

Your usual spot, of course, being the roof where you spent countless nights watching the stars. In the past, you and Sanemi spent the majority of your time split between his estate and your own. Favored places to spend that time had always involved being outside and under the moon light.

Sanemi seemed to also be affected by your words, but he tried to play them off with a loud scoff. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Thank you,” you said, grateful that he hadn’t stormed off instead; perhaps Gyomei had been right in his reassurance that Sanemi truly wanted to speak his mind.

From overhead, you heard the ruffling of feathers as Kaya likely spotted Sanemi from her nest in the largest tree on your property. It didn’t take her long to soar down on a passing breeze, landing on his shoulder with practiced ease.

“I won’t be long,” you said, turning back to study Tomioka and Suma. “Sorry to send you away…”

“No!” Suma squealed, coming up to squeeze your shoulders. “I think we both understand.”

You nodded, feeling nervous about your impending conversation with Sanemi. “Giyu-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said - easygoing as always, even as he passed you by to brush his shoulder with yours - a show of comfort. One that you clutched too, leading them both down the well-worn path to the woods, wondering if your heart could take Sanemi’s rejection.

It was as you stood in front of the open window of your bedroom - the one leading out to the platform on the roof of your estat - that you took a moment to study Sanemi. At a distance, you could openly admire him - everything from his muscular shoulders to the untamed mess of wispy silver spikes that you knew felt unbelievably soft under your fingers.

He looked almost peaceful, not nearly as tense as you felt, and you huffed in annoyance, seeing Kaya snuggled up to Sanemi. The traitor! Watching as he copied your same gentle motions of stroking a finger along her spine.

You closed your eyes around a deep inhale and exhale. This was your chance to make things right, and you wouldn’t forgive yourself for ruining it. For once, you would leave everything out in the open for him, and it would be entirely Sanemi’s decision whether he accepted you back into his life.

Of course, he wasn’t exactly instilling confidence, sneering at your approach. You forced yourself to study him closer, to see past the carefully constructed mask, to examine the same eyes that Gyomei had promised could not lie. Kaya fluttered her wings at your arrival but refused to leave Sanemi’s lap. “She remains loyal to you,” you remarked as way of starting what would prove to be a difficult conversation.

Sanemi huffed at your introduction. “I guess she takes after you in that regard - loyalty that is.” You blinked, touched by the unexpected compliment. “Though maybe not to me.”

The barb stung deep. “I never wanted to leave your side,” you informed him, making yourself comfortable in the chair next to his own, gazing out across the empty field.

“But you did,” Sanemi said, hands clenched tight on his armrests as if holding himself back. “You made your decision when you signed that fucking contract.”

“Oh, this?” you questioned with a sly smirk, removing it from the pocket inside your jacket. You held it up to him, taking only a small degree of satisfaction in seeing him physically recoil at the sight.

He took a deep breath as if trying to calm himself down. “You’re taunting me.”

“No,” you disagreed, allowing the contract to rest in your lap. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s the reason we fought before.”

“Of course it is,” Sanemi said. “I hate that fucking thing.”

“What do you hate exactly?” you asked.

“The idea of it,” he said. “You giving yourself away to someone undeserving when you don’t really want it.”

“Is it just because of that?”

Sanemi squirmed, visibly uncomfortable. You held your breath, wanting to push him the rest of the way off the ledge - no other outcome would matter to you just as long as you confirmed whether or not Gyomei, Tengen, and Tomioka had spoken the truth. “No,” he eventually admitted, perhaps braver than you had ever seen him before.

“Then tell me,” you said. “What are your other reasons?”

His responding breath echoed with the sound of a shudder. “I don’t want you to,” Sanemi said. “If you were with someone else, you couldn’t be with me.”

“Sanemi-”

“You’ve said no before,” Sanemi went on as if afraid of your next words. “I spoke with Tengen about it - there are other ways to see your brothers and sisters and stay connected to the clan…even if they don’t deserve you,” he tacked on almost like an afterthought.

“You’ve thought this through,” you noted. “How many people have you talked to about it?”

“Does it matter?” he grunted.

“Yes,” you replied. “Because none of them were me.”

His head whipped to you in a flash, and you briefly admired his impressive reflexes. “What did you want me to say?”

“Maybe telling me how you really felt instead of being an asshole?”

“You were just as vindictive,” he retorted.

“Fine,” you agreed with a dismissive shake of your head. “You didn’t trust me either. Did you really think I slept with that younger slayer?”

Sanemi grimaced. “No, but not because you wanted to or not. You’re bound by that ridiculous contract.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. One of the conditions for marriage had always been your chastity. “How did it make you feel?” you asked instead. “When I told you about the contract?”

“Like you stabbed me in the fucking back,” he gritted out.

“It wasn’t to betray you-”

“But you signed it anyway because you don’t give a shit about me,” he said, glaring daggers at the contract. “You don’t have the same feelings.”

“How do you know?”

“You never said anything!”

“Neither did you,” you responded, trying to keep your temper in check, and your tone neutral.

He growled in frustration. “Fine, but I was also pissed because you left that stupid clan, only to let them sink their claws back into you.” He visibly trembled, looking down at his lap. “They would’ve taken you away.”

“From who?” you questioned. “The Slayer Corps or from you?”

“Both!” he snapped. “Satisfied? You wanted to leave, and you didn’t care who you hurt on the way out.”

“You’re wrong,” you said, holding his gaze despite how difficult it was to be on the receiving end of the fire.

“Wrong?” he repeated.

“You’re too stubborn,” you said, uncaring of his snort. “I have to prove it to you.”

“Prove what?”

“Here,” you said, holding up the contract once more. “You get the honor.”

“Of signing you away?” he growled, snatching it from your fingers with his characteristic roughness.

You turned to look at him, heart clenching painfully at the sheer agony heavy in those violet eyes. “Rip it to shreds,” you said, noting the evident surprise that quickly overtook the bitterness. “Hell, burn it if you want.”

Silence descended between you both at your words. Kaya chirped from Sanemi’s laugh as if sensing the situation taking a turn. She opened her wings to take off toward the stars.

Sanemi’s fingers tightened around the contract, digging in almost painfully. “What is this?” he asked, and you could hear the uncertainty as clear as the wind whipping through the branches overhead in response to him.

“This is me telling you that I’d throw away my twisted sense of responsbility in a heartbeat if it meant being with you for the rest of my life,” you said. “But only if you want the same thing. I’m literally putting my heart in your hands. If you have feelings for me like you said-”

You broke off with a start when calloused fingers did just that, tearing the contract in half right before your very eyes. You didn’t even have a chance to finish speaking. “Impatient,” you tsked, but whatever other words had been waiting on the tip of your tongue were gone in a flash when two strong hands gripped your face tightly between them, tilting your head just enough to meet the desperate lips of the man sitting next to you.

In that brief second, it felt as if all time had stopped, locking you and Sanemi in a single moment, and you were determined to cherish it. Savoring the smell and taste of him, the smooth glide of his tongue against yours, and the soft strands of his silver locks as your fingers knotted themselves between them. You heard Sanemi’s groan as he forced himself even closer, stealing each breath of air from your lungs as he kept your mouths connected.

He chased you even as you reluctantly pulled back to relieve the ache in your lungs. “Total concentration breathing,” he whispered in the sliver of space separating you, and it took your lust-addled brain a moment to comprehend what he meant before you scoffed, shoving him playfully as a shit-eating grin stretched the corners of his lips.

It had been a long time since Sanemi had smiled at you like that, and it was even more breath-stealing than your feverish exchange of kisses. “Forgive me for being distracted.”

“Distracted?” he repeated, lifting one of his hands to brush his thumb across the swollen purse of your lips. “That’s unlike you.”

“Is it?” you managed in return, closing your eyes against his touch and shivering when he leaned in closer to whisper in your ear.

“Spend the night with me.”

“Hmmm…” you pretended to contemplate his words, slightly embarrassed at how quickly you wanted to agree. “Isn’t that too forward of you?”

He snorted at your teasing, fingers cupping your chin to direct your gaze, caught in the bright allure of violet pools. “I’ve waited long enough.”

Under the watchful gaze of the sky, his scars were even more discernible, and he didn’t even flinch when you reached out to trace their path. “What will you do?”

Your question was met with a dark chuckle, and before you could even process his movements, Sanemi had kicked aside his chair in favor of kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his broad hands. The position was dizzying, and you felt the back of your skull hit against the wall behind you, breathing hard as those same hands journeyed across your hips, fingers spreading wide when they held your waist. He still managed to look so big, even down on his knees, pulling you close enough to lock yourself around him, hands balancing your weight on his shoulders as his teeth caught onto the skin of your exposed throat. “I’m taking you out of these clothes,” he growled, loosening your shirt from where it had tucked into the waistband of your pants. You hissed between clenched teeth as bare hands smoothed across your skin, thumbs teasing the sides of your breasts. “And then I’m getting my cock inside you.”

His words did little to alleviate the warm flush to your skin, heart practically vibrating against your sternum. “Please,” you whispered, finding yourself growing faint as his touches grew rougher, teeth digging in more firmly at your neck.

“Will you let me?” he asked, hot breath tickling the skin where he had been spending far too much time licking and sucking, no doubt painting all sorts of colorful bruises. “Tell me what you want.”

You gripped tight to the back of his hair, pulling him away from the mess he was making of your neck. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? You think that little virgin cunt can handle it?”

“I can take it,” you insisted.

“I know,” he agreed, and you whimpered as he untangled your hands, rising to his full height to look down at you. “You’ll let me, won’t you? Make you feel good in ways those clan boys of yours never could.”

The remark should’ve stung your pride, or at the very least come across as an insult to your warrior traditions, but it only fed your arousal instead, legs clenching together on reflex. “I only want you,” you insisted, and this seemed to please Sanemi, teeth on full display in a smile that could only be described as arrogant.

“Then what are we waiting for, sweetheart?” he asked, and your stomach flipped at the nickname.

You didn’t bother disguising your eagerness any longer, letting him take your outstretched hand, and leaving the shredded marriage contract forgotten to the wind.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi shinaguzawa x reader #demon slayer #kny sanemi #sanemi smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer fanfic #sanemi fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader

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eggtartz · 7 months

Text

✧ 16th October ✧

Sanemi Shinazugawa // Gentle Is Overrated (f! tsuguko reader)

kinktober masterlist

warnings : rough sex

you panted, the dummy in front of you as well the katana in your hand was spent. "that's enough" the voice from behind you stopped you from swinging "what are you doing?" he growled "can't you see you've done damage to your katana?" he warned, pointing at how chapped your weapon is. "do you think a demon's head would be easy to slice through?" his stern voice made you lower your head. "retrieve another katana, i'm not training someone with a weak weapon" he said and you nodded. "yes, shinazugawa-san"

sanemi was the wind hashira who no one dared to go near. he was brash, rough and difficult for his foul mouth and attitude. despite all of that, you have been chasing him down and begging him to take you as his tsuguko. although you weren't as strong as he is, you admired him. watched him with respect as he lifted himself with pride.

your favorite part of him has to be his scars. his scars that you see as pretty was displayed on his chest due to his lack of coverage on his haori.

you have trained with him for a week now and despite how tough his trainings was (and how you shamefully cried over his harsh words) you stayed with him and became stronger everyday. you have returned with another katana and came back to him as you were sweaty and your demon slayer corps uniform clung to your body. "shinazugawa-san! i have retrieved a katana!" you announced "what are you waiting then, dumbass?" he said, sitting on the porch nearby.

you took it a s sign and swung the dummy again. sanemi sighed "oi! can't you do it properly?!" he yelled as you flinched "i-i'm sorry-"

"cut the crap! if you want to be my tsuguko so bad, then act like one! if you don't, then scram!" he said at your face "y-yes. i apologize, shinazugawa-san.." you said, not daring to look at him at the eyes.

"swing like this!" he pulled out his sword, swiftly chopping the dummy in two. "like that! use your energy and strength! be tough for once" he snarled. you nodded and went for another swung but he stopped you "you're a dumb one aren't you? even your footing is wrong!" he got behind you "one feet at the front, one at the back. stable yourself so you won't fall. when beheading a demon, use the strength of your feet too" he advised as you followed.

"one slash, do it" he gestured to the dummy. you didn't chop right through it and sanemi lost his patience "use your energy damn it! how many times do i have to repeat that?!"

"i'm sorry! let me try again-" sanemi hold up his hand "you know what? you've came here, basically begging me to teach you. you're doing this on purpose aren't you?" you flinched. the wind hashira easily see through you as warmth went through your cheeks. "n-no! i wasn't-"

"don't lie to me." his voice was deep as you looked up to him "tell me truthfully, did you came here for the training or for me?"

you flinched again, putting your head low. "i.. have.. a tiny crush on you.." you whispered that it was almost inaudible but sanemi caught it. with that, he chuckled. "there we go, wasn't too difficult to confess wasn't it?" he smiled. "now i know what your intentions are, i can motivate you more to train harder." he said and you frowned.

"motivate?"

he smiled. he patted his crotch. "you want a taste of this?" he raised his brow as your turned away, aroused and excited. "w-what?"

"i'll tell you what, if you can cut that dummy into two. this cock?" he palmed through his pants "you can have a piece of it" he smiled "you have your motivation yet? now, do it again" you were almost dazed as you gripped your katana. you could see his dick bulging from behind his pants as you puffed a breath. you bit your lips, feeling your center already pulsating with need.

you took the stance he taught you and successfully sliced the dummy in one go as he clapped his hands. "that was nice. i believe you want your reward, eh?" he pulled out his cock from his pants and you sighed in content at how big it was. everything was forgotten at that moment, your pride and dignity was thrown out of the window as you kneeled down in front of him. he tapped his cock on your face as you mewled "may i suck it, shinazugawa-san? p-please, i'll make it feel really good.." sanemi wasn't a man of patience as he pushed your head on his awaiting cock and sighed in relief as you bobbed your head, using your tongue to swirl around it.

he grunted, one hand on his hip as he pushed himself down to your throat as you gagged. he pulled out for a moment, a string of precum and saliva coated his dick. "such a good tsuguko. lay down, i'll teach you more" he taunted and you gladly laid on the porch, discarding every fabric that you had on your body. it was wrong to act like a cheap person but for sanemi, you'd gladly spread your legs any day for him.

he chuckled seeing your eagerness as he shrugged his clothings off "tell me, girl. did you wanted this?" he rubbed his hard dick on your pussy up and down, teasing the entrance. "y-yes.. i have.. i.. imagined it.. a lot of times.." you mewled. "and how bad do you want it?"

"so bad.. please.." you looked up and your eyes locked together with him for a second before his dick made his way through your insides. the air in your lungs were knocked out as you felt his big cock entering you and could hear his groans. "s-shit.." he hold on your hip, thrusting inside and not even giving you time to adjust to his size. "shinazugawa-san!!" you whimpered, hands clawing the wooden porch behind you.

he panted, the sounds of rough slaps of skin could be heard as he drilled inside you needy pussy. it sucked him in and it was difficult for sanemi to have control for such a tight, cute cunt of yours. "fuck, you're gonna be the best tsuguko i have.." he said along the hazy moments as you spread your legs more. his pace was feral as his dick scraped your walls as your moans rang into his ear.

"shinazugawa-san..! i'm gonna! gonna!" he shushed you "it's sanemi.. call me.. mmh, sanemi.." he grunted, feeling your pussy tighten when he said so.

"sanemi." it's the way you moaned his name so prettily and almost sounded like a prayer. "say it again, say my name!" he thrusted deep, leaving no space for you to run. "sanemi..! i'm cumming!" he started to go faster as the wooden behind you started to screech at how rough he was going. you were holding on to it so you wouldn't scoot away. sanemi closed his eyes and opened to see how you're writhing in pleasure, a choked moan escaping your mouth as his cock thrusted inside you with lack of mercy.

you creamed over his dick as he also came inside, dumping his cum into your pussy. he made sure to kiss your stiff clit before pulling out, huffing in relief.

"good job. next time, swing your katana harder and i'll show you more than what you just had experienced" he whispered.

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flametrashiraarchive · 10 months

Text

The Wind and Wisteria- chapter 3.

It’s here!! I have one more chapter left to write and then this part of the story is wrapped up!

I have thought about going back in time and writing about the first time you meet (and bang) Sanemi, or maybe jumping ahead to another sexy adventure. If you’d like more please let me know.

Content guidance: There is no smut in this chapter (but we’ll make up for that in chapter 4.) CW for violence and blood.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2|

Chapter 3

The morning after the kiss, Sanemi is called away on another mission. His Kasugai crow wakes up the entire house as it frantically delivers the message, and Sanemi leaves before dawn. He doesn’t say goodbye, which isn’t surprising. He never has.

It takes a week for the tingling to subside whenever you remember the sensation of his lips on yours, and even then it catches you off guard when you think you're safe.

You try your best to push him from your mind and throw yourself into your work.

Little by little, day by day, your house empties. Most of the kakushi have left by the second week. A few days after that the doctor returns to check on Kyojuro Rengoku, the wounded flame hashira.

After checking him over, the doctor proclaims that the patient is out of immediate danger and recovering well. To be honest though, you could have told him that. Your home has been filled with Rengoku’s loud, effusive laughter for a couple of days.

“Someone needs to write a study on the healing properties of your shrimp tempura, my friend,” Kyojuro sits in bed a month after he first came in with his injuries, happily working his way through his second plate of the dish that afternoon as you change his dressing on his chest.

You chuckle and shake your head. “Eat your fill, Rengoku-sama. If anyone deserves to consume their body weight in crustaceans it’s you.”

“I truly cannot thank you enough.” The flame hashira is all smiles once more. His good eye is full of light and warmth, the other still concealed behind a patch. It won’t work again but it doesn’t seem to bother him. None of his injuries do. He’s still just as pleasant, enthusiastic, and friendly as ever. “But please don’t concern yourself with formalities. Kyojuro is just fine.”

You finish dressing his wound, which appears to be healing well considering. “The doctor confirmed that you're well enough to travel to the butterfly mansion today. The kakushi will be here soon to take you.”

“Ah! The butterfly mansion? That is good news. Perhaps my brother can visit? My family’s home isn’t far from there.” He puts his hand on yours and smiles. “But I will miss the tempura, my friend.”

You laugh, “I’ll pack some for you to eat on the journey.”

“You’re a blessing. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart.”

"Well thank you for being such a wonderful guest. And for all that you do, Kyojuro."

He squeezes your hand and smiles, radiating warmth and kindness.

You leave the room in a wonderful mood. It does your heart so much good to see the flame hashira alive and well, and to be honest, you’re going to miss him when he goes.

When the Kakushi arrive later that day with a cart to carry him to the butterfly mansion, you stand at the front door to your house and wave him off. A wry smile pulls at your lips, because you can still hear him talking and laughing long after the road curves and he disappears from view.

It’s a beautiful evening and your home is empty once more. You head out into your garden to bring in the laundry. The sun has just set, leaving the sky kissed with hues of gold and pink. The breeze blows through the sheets and sways the wisteria blossoms, scenting the air with a sweet, pleasant smell. You close your eyes and just stand there, appreciating the beauty of the fading day before turning round and almost slamming right into–

“Sanemi?”

Right away your body begins to heat and some foolish part of you hopes he came back to finish what he began in the kitchen a month ago.

But his lips are downturned, his eyes are weary, and they’re looking everywhere but at you. “I need to stay here tonight.”

Whatever mission he has been on the past month has visibly taken a toll on him; there are fresh scars on his arms and chest, and when his gaze finally settles on you, there are horrors reflected there beyond your imagination. There's also an open wound on his shoulder.

Sanemi may be a difficult man to deal with–and a difficult man to develop feelings for–but there isn’t a person alive who can claim to fight harder than he does against the demons who feed off humanity. And whatever feelings you have for him pale in comparison to your duty as the mistress of a house with a wisteria crest.

“Okay. Well, of course you’re welcome here as a member of the Demon Slayer Corps. I’ll prepare a room for you.”

"Thank you," he says, his eyes still fixed on the ground.

"You're bleeding… should I fetch–?"

"I'm fine," he says bluntly.

His voice has always contrasted sharply with his appearance. To look at him; his scars, his wild eyes and unruly hair, you would never expect his voice to be so smooth and calm. It's the type of voice that can send shivers down your spine even when he isn't whispering filth in your ear.

You lead him into your house. He knows the way by now; he has stayed with you so many times, but he follows a step behind as if he needs your guidance.

"Here you are," you say quietly, gesturing to the room he has stayed in time and time again.

He pulls in a long, slow breath and raises his eyes to meet yours. For a moment it seems as though he's about to speak but then he looks away again.

The air between you is stifling.

"Sanemi–"

"Don’t." He grits his teeth and glances away, a quiet growl sounding at the back of his throat. "I know I shouldn't have come back, I just didn't know where else to go. I'll leave in the morning."

That hurts a little but you're not about to tell him that. "Fine. Do what you like, but if you won't let me fetch the doctor to look at that wound, at least let me clean it and bandage it. Otherwise it could fester."

A dismissive grunt sounds in his throat as he takes his katana from his belt and props it against the wall. He gestures to his scarred face and torso. "Look at me; I know how to treat wounds. Bring me the supplies and I'll do it myself. I don't need you."

There's no point in arguing. You know Sanemi will only dig in his heels.

"Such a stubborn ass," you mutter under your breath as you head off to get the supplies. You always have a first aid kit on hand because of how often demon slayers come to you with minor cuts and scratches.

The world outside the window is pitch dark now.

As you head back to the room you notice a trail of little blood droplets all the way down your hallway floor leading to the room, and your chest tightens with worry. The wound is clearly worse than Sanemi is letting on.

Approaching the room you try to make him see reason, "Sanemi this looks a little worse than–"

He's asleep.

You hesitate in the doorway, instinctively afraid of waking him. But asleep or not, one of you needs to stop the bleeding. You head into the room and approach the sleeping hashira. For the first time since you've known him he looks peaceful.

Sanemi barely stirs as you sit on the edge of the bed and begin to tend to his wounds. His eyes open only slightly before he mutters something unintelligible and drifts back off.

Carefully– and with considerable difficulty since Sanemi is absolutely no help whatsoever– you remove his haori so you can better access the wound. His hashira uniform is sleeveless beneath, which makes this a whole lot easier.

The wound is fairly deep but looks far less dire once you get the dried blood cleaned up. In fact, it's odd that it left a trail of blood droplets at all. It doesn't look like it needs stitches but it's likely he'll have yet another scar.

You apply pressure, trying not to let your gaze linger on him for too long. As always it's a battle you lose.

Finding yourself attracted to Sanemi is a curious thing.

At first glance you can't help but see his scars and bloodshot eyes, and his general air of shitheadedness. But once you notice how handsome he is beneath all that, his beauty takes root in your heart and refuses to stop blooming. It isn't just his muscles or the scars or the way he can fuck you. It's the tangle of contradictions which make him who he is.

No one treads the line between angel and devil quite like Sanemi.

You finish bandaging his wound and stand to leave, halted by the sudden sensation of his hand around yours.

"Stay," he murmurs softly, his sleepy voice laced with a vulnerability you aren't used to hearing from him.

So you stay.

You sit down on the edge of the bed, holding his hand as he sleeps. Sanemi's hands break your heart. They're hands which have endured and dealt unimaginable pain. His knuckles are scarred, his palms thick and callused from years of wielding his blade.

And yet that night, when he kissed you, those hands which have known so much violence, caressed you with more tenderness than you ever thought existed.

Even the way they feel when he touches you; when he's rough, bordering on brutal, his wounded, abused hands still have the ability to coax out so much pleasure.

His hands are just another of Sanemi Shinazugawa's contradictions.

Deep down inside, an urge stirs in your chest; the urge to keep holding onto his tired hands forever.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know," you say quietly as he sleeps.

He stirs ever so slightly, rolling onto his side and bringing the back of your hand to rest on his cheek. Your heart squeezes as his brow furrows and he gently nuzzles your hand before falling still once more. You can’t help but smile.

A sinister, inhuman laugh breaks through the stillness, and at once the air reeks of fetid, rotting flesh. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

"Mmm… the air here is ripe with marechi blood," a demonic voice snarls from above.

Fear shoots through your body; a deep, primal instinct telling you a predator is near. You're suddenly no more than a rabbit realizing too late that a fox is in your warren. You freeze, not daring to look up.

Droplets of blood drip from the ceiling onto the white bed sheets.

Panicked, your instinct is to wake Sanemi, but the moment you try to rouse him, you're pulled away from him and dragged out the door with so much force you don't even have time to scream.

In the blink of an eye you're outside surrounded by darkness and trees, and staring into the blood-red eyes of the demon.

Sharp teeth and claws, blood running from its eyes like rivers of tears, and that cruel, inhuman laugh.

Your back is pressed to the cold earth as the demon scrapes a long, black claw along your cheek. Its mouth hangs open, drool dripping from its fangs, ready to bite into your flesh. Your hands find a fallen stick and you shove it into its mouth, preventing it from biting you.

Wicked laughter rattles from between its lips as it bites the stick in two. Your efforts bought you a couple of seconds, nothing more.

"Feisty one, aren't you?" it growls, plucking a splinter of wood from between its teeth. "That's good. Adds a peppery taste to your flesh. Tell me, are you the one with marechi blood, hm? Or is the sleeping one? Doesn't matter either way, I'll eat you both."

You don't hesitate to ram the jagged point of the broken stick into its neck, the bones of your arm rattling from the force.

Gargled curses fill the air as blood spills from the monster's mouth. If it were a natural creature, that would be the end of it, or so close enough that you could attempt to escape, but the demon recovers quickly, its flesh healing before your eyes as you try with every last remaining ounce of your strength to overpower it.

Don't give in. Fight. Fight. I have to fight.

You wedge your feet beneath its belly and push with all your might, sending the gargling fiend back just a few inches, enough for you to wriggle free and crawl out from under it.

The demon only laughs, wiping away tears of blood as you find your feet and begin to run. In an instant it's on you once more, pinning your arms behind your back and stopping your escape. Your instincts scream at you to break free from his iron grip.

Whatever it takes, you must survive.

"I was going to kill you quickly, but not anymore. I'll break your arms and legs, make you watch as I eat your lover. I'll take my time with both of you," it snarls into your ear. "Feast upon you one little piece at a time so you live as long as possible. Your screams will echo in this place long after you are gone."

Kicking back with all your might, your heel is met with the solid boney flesh of its leg. It doesn't flinch. It isn't enough.

I'm going to die.

A sudden wind blows, so strong it steals your breath away, and apparently knocks the demon back, because at once your arms are free and you fall forward onto the ground.

The figure of a man appears, crouching defensively in front of you, blocking your line of vision.

His all too familiar voice calls out to the darkness, "I'll tear you to fucking shreds!"

"Sanemi!"

The hashira doesn't move. He remains crouched between you and the demon, like a wild beast waiting to pounce upon its prey.

You move to try to pull yourself up, but he reaches a hand behind him and places it between your shoulder blades, pushing you firmly to the ground. "Stay down."

The demon cackles in the darkness. "Ah… a hashira, is it? Good. The pair of you will make a fine meal."

The voice seems to come from every direction at once.

"Come on out, demon," Sanemi calls. "You think you can take me on? Bring it on, you ugly fuck."

A snarl sounds from above, and a fraction of a second later, Sanemi pounces. His movements are so fast your eyes can barely keep up. He and the demon clash mid-air, his blade slicing its abdomen in half. It's not enough to kill the demon, but Sanemi doesn't hesitate to slice again and again, carving the demon to pieces.

"What's the matter?" Sanemi taunts as the demon thrashes on the ground. "You thought you could get away with attacking her? Well you were dead wrong." He stabs the demon again. "What was it you said? Your screams will echo in this place long after you're gone?" He smiles, plunging his blade into the demon's eye socket and twisting it. "Thanks for the inspiration."

The demon shrieks, its claws swiping helplessly in Sanemi's direction. The hashira simply swings his blade, slicing off the demon's hands. And then he stabs and stabs. The demon's pained howls ring through the darkness.

Sanemi's eyes are wide and wild. "I'm gonna send you to hell, and when you get down there you're going to give every demon you see a message. Understand? I'm going to carve this message into your damn soul so every demon that comes after you instinctively knows it. Burn these words into your blood." He grips the demon by the hair and yanks its head up and around, snapping its neck to make it look at you. Sanemi jabs a finger in your direction. "You don't get to threaten her. You don't get to hurt her. If any demon so much as thinks about it, I'll kill them far, far more slowly and painfully than this. Got it?"

There's so much fury, so much possession in his voice, and as he delivers the killing blow to the demon, you can only lie there, astounded.

The demon's body crumbles to smoldering ash, carried away by the fresh night air, and the forest falls completely silent.

"Are you hurt?" Sanemi asks.

"No. I'm fine." You pull yourself to your feet and dust yourself off.

"No you're not, idiot." He steps up to you, tilts your chin with his index finger, inspecting the claw mark on your cheek.

"I said I'm fine."

The corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk. "You sound like me. But yeah, you're right. It's just a cut." As quickly as his smile appears, it dissolves to a scowl. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner. It took me a minute to figure out what had happened to you. I'm not at my best right now."

"That wasn't your best?"

He shakes his head. "I'm exhausted."

"You fell asleep so deeply and so quickly before. Was that the demon's influence?"

The corner of his mouth twitches ever so slightly. "No. I'm just… tired. I'm so tired of fighting, of losing people, of feeling like we're never gonna win. The only time I ever feel good is when–" he cuts himself off and turns away from you. "The mission I was on this past month… The victims were kids. I haven't been able to sleep since. Not until I came here." He adds quietly. "Not until I came here… to you."

"Sanemi–" You take a step toward him, half expecting him to flinch away, but he doesn't. He lets you bring up your hands to cup his face.

"Goddamn it. I've tried to push you away. I've tried to stop myself from feeling anything for you but…" He mirrors your gesture, carefully caressing your cheeks with his scarred and bloodied hands. "Caring for you terrifies me, because everyone I've ever found comfort in has died. Every one of them."

"You care for me?"

"Dammit I've tried not to. At first it was just sex and spending a few hours drinking sake and pretending to be normal, but then…" He sighs. "I thought if I never looked you in the eyes, if I just focused on pleasure and kept you at a distance I could keep fucking you and stop myself from caring but I can't. I can't. And now you're the only person I've cared for that I've been able to save and… maybe that means something."

Your cheeks are burning, your heart pounding to a frantic rhythm.

"Fuck. Say something." His voice is tinged with desperation. "Tell me to leave you alone. Tell me you don't want me–"

"Never."

His eyes widen and a look of sheer panic crosses his face.

"Sanemi, I can't do that." You pull in a deep breath. "I am yours."

"You're…"

"Yours."

His lips are on yours a heartbeat later, but where the first kiss was gentle and tender, this is anything but. He pins you to him, his lips possessive and desperate, claiming you entirely. There's no hesitation, no reluctance, just relief and release. One of his hands tangles in your hair, and you’re barely balancing on tiptoe as he holds you against his body with his other arm at the small of your back.

You kiss him back with just as much passion, burying your fingers in his hair, feeling him groan against your lips. The heat of his body pulses against yours as he kisses you.

He pulls back, hands holding your face as he grits his teeth and you brace yourself, expecting him to walk away again. But he just strokes his thumb across your cheek, following the path of the demon's shallow claw mark.

"I'm never going to let you get hurt again," he whispers. "You hear me?"

He kisses you again without waiting for an answer, this time softer but no less passionate.

"Tell me you're mine," you whisper against his lips.

The soft moan which emerges from him is enough to send shivers through your entire body.

"I'm yours," he says. "I'm yours. And I've been an idiot. Let me… I can make it up to you. I'll do anything."

This time, you kiss him, and your heart somersaults when he kisses you back. "Take me home."

Sanemi nods and takes your hand in his. "Let's go back then. I'll take you back home and I'll do what I should have done the first time you asked."

...To be concluded...

#sanemi x you #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi fanfic #kimetsu sanemi #shinazugawasanemi #shinazugawa x reader #demon slayer sanemi #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #sanemi x f!reader

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mochimoee · 9 months

Text

Sanemi x Reader | Valentine's Day

Tags: None, just fluff and sweet Sanemi.

Word count: 700

~♡ Dividers by: cafekitsune ♡~

Valentine's Day was coming up and Sanemi wanted to do something special for you. The two of you have been dating for a little over a year now, so he wanted to do something other than just give you chocolates. He had brainstormed ideas for weeks now until he finally had the perfect idea.

He had decided to speak with Rengoku about learning how to write and wondered if Rengoku would help teach him. Out of all of the Hashiras, he figured Rengoku would be the one he could trust the most. Rengoku of course agreed and thought it was a marvelous idea. They started meeting every few days a week whenever neither of them were too busy.

A few weeks had gone by and it was finally Valentine's day. Sanemi had been working his ass off just about every day just to make sure the note he gave you was perfect. Of course it wasn't as good as most others' handwriting, but it was the best he could do. He got the note written out, picked up a few of your favorite flowers and candies, and headed out to your estate.

You were very excited to see Sanemi today and present him with your gift. You had worked hard all morning to make him his favorite dish, Ohagi. You hoped he'd love it. You put it aside in a little box to keep safe as you waited for him to arrive.

Shortly after finishing the Ohagi and getting changed, Sanemi arrived right on time. Excitedly, you ran to greet him. "Nemi!! Happy Valentine's Day!" You practically squealed while hugging him. He chuckled and hugged you back with one arm while holding his gift behind his back with the other. "Happy Valentine's Day my love." He smiled as you stepped back and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Oh! Let me go get your gift." You went to run to the kitchen to grab the Ohagi, but he grabbed your arm and stopped you before you could. "I'd actually like you to open my gift first, if that's okay" he said nervously while blushing. He pulled out the flowers and candies first to give to you. "Oh Nemi! These are my favorites! Thank you so much!" You smiled brightly as you sniffed the flowers and peeked at the candies. "That's not all" "Hmm?" You looked up at him with curiosity wondering what else he could've gotten you. He pulled an envelope out and handed it to you. You sat the flowers and candies down on a nearby table so you could open the envelope and when you did, you could barely contain your happiness.

"Dear (Y/N)

The past year I've shared with you has been one of the happiest years of my life. Words cannot describe my love for you that continues to grow with each passing day. You have become the light of my life and the one person I wish to spend eternity with. If you allow me, I will continue to work each day to bring you just as much happiness as you have given me. Happy Valentine's Day, my love.

Love Sanemi."

"Oh Nemi… Did you write this?" Your eyes filled with tears of happiness as he nodded his head. "I wanted to do something truly special for you. I hope it's okay. I know my handwriting isn't the best, but it's-" you cut him off before he could finish with a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he started to kiss you back while placing his hands on your hips. You slowly pulled away and looked him in the eyes. "It was perfect Sanemi. Thank you." a blush started to form on his cheeks as he smiled while looking at you. "I'm glad" he said softly as he went to kiss you again.

The two of you shared a longer kiss this time when you suddenly remembered. "Oh! I almost forgot!!" You ran into the kitchen to grab the box of Ohagi you had prepared for him. "It's not as wonderful as the gift you wrote me, but I hope you'll enjoy it!" You handed him the box as he opened it with wide eyes. He smiled widely at the sight of the Ohagi and picked one up to try. He had a look of pleasure on his face after eating one. "They're perfect, love." You beamed with happiness as you both sat down to enjoy the rest of the day together. All in all it was a pretty successful Valentine's Day.

Ah I hope you enjoyed!! I want to keep working on making some sweet Sanemi fanfics to balance out all the nsfw ones lol

Thanks for reading!

#sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi x reader #sanemi fanfic #x reader #gn reader #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #kny sanemi shinazugawa #demon slayer sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi fluff #x reader fluff #fluff fanfic

138 notes · View notes

crimsonfic · 2 months

Text

Sanemi Shinazugawa Fanfiction- Turbulence

Foreign Musician Y/N

Subjects: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Violence, Gore, Death, Blood, Vulgar language, Mature Language & Content, other sensitive subjects

8 Chapters

Chapter 5

Chapter Includes: Explicit Language, Mature subjects, Smut, Fluff, Violence

5k Words

As it turns out, Sanemi could not have control over himself with you

He tried.

He really did.

But you were so perfect.

You were attentive at the right times. Quiet at the right time. You weren't pushy, surprisingly, and you were actually pleasant to be around.

It was horrible.

He found himself zoning out just staring at you while you talked, or while you slept.

He had to pull himself out of bed and into town to slay demons. He felt....guilty about feeling so much comfort next to you. Trying to sleep next to you, you looking at him with those expressive fucking eyes, your desire to please him anyway you could, it was too much.

Much more than he should have.

He had one goal. One desire. One purpose. But for some reason none of it mattered as much when he was with you.

That scared him.

—————

Sanemi's POV

"Hey handsome, where'd you go?"

A deep sigh left my chest before I could stop it. It seemed like I was exasperated with her compliments.

Good.

She didn't need to know it was because the sound of her sultry voice did things to me.

"Out." I replied, removing my clothes .

"Obviously." She smiled lazily, cocking her head at me. "Did you have to work or something?"

"Yeah." I answered.

"How was that?" She questioned.

"Fine."

I could see her eyes brighten, but just as quick as it happened she lowered her eyes and looked away, before nodding and replying "Good." With a soft smile on her face.

Damn those fucking beautiful eyes.

"Ask your question." I sighed beginning to remove my clothes.

"Are you sure?"

"Until I change my mind...."

"Okay okay, what is it that you do....exactly? I know I asked before and you said kill. I don't really...um...care what you do....for work.....I just....am curious. You're not just....a...killer...right? Are you....like a um....bounty Hunter or something?"

I have never heard her sound so unsure, mumble, or even say um.

By now I was totally undressed.

"Maybe I'll wait until I finish bathing to tell you exactly what I do."

Those eyes again. They widened. She seemed nervous. Worried that I was going to tell her I just murder people every night I'm sure.

"Okay." She nodded, and then laid back down.

I closed the door to the bathroom and ran my bath.

My mind was conjuring up all the ways it could go wrong telling her that I'm a demon slayer. Are there demons where she's from? It sounds like she has other worries from back home and I've never heard of any stories about demons there.

Who am I kidding?

There's fucking demons here so who the fuck cares if it's a scary thought? It's a fact. It's reality. No sense in sugar coating it. If I don't tell her someone else will eventually. Or she'll see for herself.

————

"Perfect timing" The fucking vixen said as she brought a plate of food to the living room center table.

"How was your bath?" She asked once I sat down.

"Good." I answered ignoring the wanton look on her face. She was shameless.

"I.....ooh um nevermind. I'm sorry."

My eyes darted back to her face quickly.

"What the fuck is up?" She was being unlike herself. I understood the weird behavior about my work but was she trying to stop herself from flirting with me?

Since fucking when has she cared about coming on too strong. It doesn't even bother me anymore.

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you acting like you can't ask me questions."

I could see a guard go up in her eyes. "You always tell me to stop asking questions-"

"That's never stopped you before!" I threw back. It was petty. But I didn't care. I wanted to get to the bottom of her being cryptic.

"I just don't want to upset you." She replied.

"Since when?" I asked putting the food down untouched.

I was starting to get angry. Is she implying that she can't trust me? Like she doesn't know who I am or something? She's never cared if I was upset with her or not. Atleast she never acted like it. It never stopped her from calling me names I don't like, trying to get to know personal things or doing something I told her not to.

"Sit down." I said before she could say anything else.

She sat down across from me.

"I don't kill people." I said.

She sat on the couch quietly, and nodded slowly.

"I kill demons."

She blinked. And appeared to have froze. After 2 minutes of complete silence she eventually spoke.

"Okay."

"Okay?" I echoed.

"Yeah."

Now I was confused.

"So you've already encountered demons?"

"No."

"You don't have any questions? Other remarks?"

"No." She answered with finality.

I searched her face for any signs of her wavering. I couldn't find any.

"Well do you feel better now that you know what my job is?"

"Yep." She nodded.

I sat and stared at her. There was definitely something wrong. But I truly didn't have the words to convince her to talk to me. Beyond that, she doesn't dive too deep when I'm in a "mood" as she calls it.

I began scarfing down the food she made me. She remained quiet while I ate. Proof that she was still not being herself or was in her head.

When I finished, I got up, and grabbed her off the couch, throwing her over my shoulder.

"Whoa! What are you doing?" She exclaimed.

"About to fuck you back to normal." I replied with a swift smack to her butt.

"Oh really?" She asked. Her seductress voice sounding more like usual.

That's my girl.

—————

Shocked would be an understatement but since you were at a lost for words that's what you were going to stick with.

Sanemi was sleeping, soundly, and pulled you to his chest himself.

You really couldn't believe it, but you knew better than to comment on it.

Maybe he really did like you too.

Honestly, who were you kidding. He has to like you too. You would never be at his house after spending a night with him, laying on his chest while he slept if he didn't.

These were truly boyfriend behaviors. You knew better than to ask him what this meant for your relationship too though.

As you looked at his silver lashes, you tried to keep your hands where they were instead of touching his handsome face. He looked so much better up close. Getting to stare unabashedly without the distraction of euphoria, really had you wondering how you could ever get so lucky as to be tolerated by this stone of a man.

No, scratch that. Liked, by this man.

Demons.

You quickly shook your head at the intrusive thought.

That was the last thing you wanted to think about but now that you were no longer busy, you knew realistically you would have to face reality. Kind of.

You looked at the scars on his beautiful face and it hit you again.

Demons.

That had to be the cause for the extensive amount of scaring on him. A man as sure of himself and as mean as Sanemi had to face off against something major to be injured so badly.

You lightly traced the scaring across his chest with your fingertips.

Demons.

You inwardly rolled your eyes.

You had to do something. You couldn't just sit there, and sleep wasn't an option.

Slowly, you separated from Sanemi and left the bed as quiet as possible.

Once you were dressed, you left to the living room to find a note pad where you wrote "don't wait up. See you soon."

You had to busy yourself. If you stayed busy, your mind would be busy, and you wouldn't have to face that startlingly discovery.

———

You walked around town until you came across a trinket shop. You spent a lot of time there after talking to the owner who sold many of his handmade jewelry and knives. You spoke with him in great detail about his designs and his craftsmanship. He seemed delighted to discuss those things with you too, a huge smile on his face as he spoke to you.

By the time you left you had purchased way more than you intended to. You were happy though, and it was a good amount of time keeping the anxiety off of your mind for a while.

You decided to head home for a little while too. However you noticed as you got closer to the house, the more that dread crept up your neck and made you feel sick.

When you made it home you were not as relieved as you thought you would be to see the guys.

"Hey! Didn't expect to see you so soon." Brass greeted you from where he was lounging on the floor beside the couch.

Above him Frank was laid out on the couch while Muddy sat in the chair adjacent.

It appeared they had been working on music.

"Yeah, same." You replied.

"We'll why are you back? And what do you have?" Muddy asked.

"Jewelry, and because. It's....a lot."

No one spoke for a while.

"Okay and?" Brass responded. "We're all sitting here, not going anywhere so go on and tell us."

Frank sat up and gestured for you to sit next to him.

"I don't....I don't really know how to....say." You mumbled taking the newly open seat.

"Try." Frank said patting your back when you sat down.

They were all worried. You weren't usually one lost for words.

Muddy sat forward in his seat, eyes zeroed in on you. "Did something happen with Sanemi?"

The way your eyes showed a series of emotions at the mention of his name gave Brass pause, making him sit up from the floor.

"Did he do something to you?" He asked.

"No no no." You said, tone far away. "He told me....well....hmm...what if he's crazy?"

"Crazy how?" Muddy asked.

"Like....delusional."

"Aw hell. What did he say?" Brass groaned.

You glanced at Frank and his eyes were piercing as he waited for your answer. He nodded to you, encouraging you to continue.

"He said he fights demons."

Silence.

"Yeah don't we all." Muddy laughed.

"No. Listen. He fights demons for work. Physically, in real life."

This time, the guys all exchanged a look. You couldn't read this one.

After atleast 4 minutes of silence, "Somebody say something." You said.

"So, someone else told me about demons here before too." Muddy answered

"Honestly, the whole town thinks there are demons."

"I believe them." Brass said.

"Wait, you've never heard this before?" Muddy interjected.

"No." You answered.

"How?"

"The important question is, do you really think Sanemi is delusional? I mean now that you know majority of the people we encounter believe there to be demons here, you'll be fine right?" Frank asked

"Of course not! Because the alternative is that there are demons!"

"She has a point." Brass said.

"I need a drink. Anybody else?" Muddy said standing up and going into the kitchen.

"Yeah."

"Me"

"Sure." The three of you answered simultaneously.

———

"Hey, we should go see if we can find a demon." Frank said

Immediately Brass started laughing.

"This always happens, why do we let Frank drink? Here Frank stick to smokes man." Muddy said pushing the ashtray across the coffee table towards him.

"What do you mean? That would help us confirm if these demons are real." Frank answered casually grabbing the wooden pipe from the tray.

"If they are in fact real, what do you think would happen to us when we're in front of it. They take human souls!" Brass basically shouted.

"Yeah, pure souls! We have nothing to worry about.

To your horror, Muddy and Brass seemed to accept this explanation and be pondering it.

"Okay. No. That's enough. Nobody is going to look for demons, also our definition of pure and a demonic definition of pure may be two different things. Let's drop it. Please!" You said.

"Oh yeeeeah, you're right." Brass nodded.

"Well maybe we can ask lover boy Sanemi about it." Muddy said.

"No to that too."

"We can't do anything." Frank sighed.

You sat back further into the couch. You felt bad for leaving Sanemi while he slept after he had been a completely different person, but you really couldn't think there. You were overwhelmed with this new information and didn't know what you should think. What you should do.

Are you supposed to just keep living life as normal? How?

It was insane to even consider.

Ironically, alcohol seemed to calm your nerves. While still anxious however, you felt significantly less stressed.

"I'm gonna go back to Sanemi." You said out loud.

"Sounds good." Muddy nodded.

"Yeah he's probably worried. His feelings are probably hurt. He probably thinks he ran you away." Frank said.

It felt like you had been dunked in ice water as realization hit you. Frank was right.

Considering everything, you had chosen the worst time to "clear your head".

"Oh no." You groaned. "I've gotta go."

You stood, feeling the effects of the alcohol you drank. Little silver stars were dancing around your vision.

"Should we walk you? Does he live far from here?" Muddy said.

"No, you'll probably slow me down. I'll be okay." You answered.

"You look a little drunk."

You shrugged. A little is nothing. You've done more than simply walk to someone's house while under the influence. You'd be back to normal halfway through the walk.

You gathered all of the new things you just purchased and grabbed more clothes just in case.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized you were running out of time. It had been too many hours since you left with no explanation. Your little note probably meant nothing. You had to hurry.

———-

The trees cast an extra shadow over everything around you as you made your way through the thick forest. You weren't expecting it to be so dark so soon but you hadn't accounted for the cover of the forest. The walk wasn't as comforting as it was in the mornings or mid-day.

You had just gotten more comfortable with the minimal light when someone fell into step beside you.

What the?

It was so sudden you couldn't fathom that someone could've been following you but they had to have been behind you.

You slowed your pace, planning to stop walking. To your surprise the figure slowed their pace as well. You glanced at them seeing that they were covered in a dark cloak so you couldn't make out any details.

Abruptly you stopped walking. This was mirrored by the individual in the cloak.

"Can I help you?" You asked ignoring the sinking feeling that began growing in your gut.

"Yes you can." The voice was something from a nightmare. It didn't sound human at all, and it sounded malicious. It was haunting. Something that you hear and immediately know it's other worldly.

You took a step back but froze when the head of the cloaked figure snapped in your direction.

"Where do you think you're going? I haven't even introduced myself yet."

The cloaked figure then laughed. Your blood ran cold at the sound.

"I've seen you before. You walk through my woods often. But I got the biggest treat of all seeing you with that damn Hashira. He's usually always alone. So I was surprised to see him with someone. A woman no less."

Another laugh. This time more high pitched.

"I'm gonna have some fun with you. Im gonna use you. You see, it's a weakness of mine to play with my food before devouring it. That wild hair Hashira seems unbreakable. But I think I've found just the do we thing to break him." A more deranged laugh sounded in the air. "A friend, or a lover perhaps!" His tone crescendoed with each word. He was excited. This shook you to your core.

You were rooted to your spot, your brain trying to understand what was happening, your body tremoring with fear and disbelief.

The cloaked figure removed his hood.

Your legs gave out before you could even register what was happening. You had never seen anything like what was before you.

It wasn't human. You knew this but seeing it made a difference. His, or it's skin was grayish green, his teeth were sharp, too big to fully close his mouth, he had multiple horns protruding from the sides of his face, and his eyes, his eyes glowed sinisterly.

But that wasn't even the worst part. The fact that he was drooling was the nail in the coffin.

"I'll take...just a little piece. Nothing big, just something small but noticeable."

You couldn't even hold eye contact any longer once he began stalking towards you.

Every single step he took toward you sent a tremor down your spine. You kept your head down, too afraid to catch another glimpse at him. Too afraid to move. Too afraid to stay really but you were paralyzed with fear.

A single cold but firm hand grabbed your chin and raised your head up slowly.

The last thing you heard was that haunting laugh.

————

You woke up in a lightly lit, unfamiliar room. You felt strangely relaxed despite being in an unknown room.

Vaguely you registered that someone else was present. Before you could take in anymore of your surroundings, the sound of feet padding down the hallway came. You didn't know whether to be afraid or what, but your body responded on its own. A deep violent tremor shook you. Enough to catch the attention of the person in the room.

"Hey. you're awake now? Don't be frightened, you're safe here."

Your eyes met the owner of the voice and you felt a tiny sense of relief. It was a young girl. A human. Something worth noting now. She didn't give you any negative vibes. In fact, the more you came to, you could see that she was caring for you. She was mixing medicines and herbs together where she was seated.

Only then did you register that you were hurt. Or had been hurt. You looked down at your arms and noticed your left forearm was bandaged. There was a tender ache and slight burning present. You raised your arm and that's when the true extent of your experience hit you.

It felt like you had fallen from a 5 story building. Your entire body felt weak and achey.

The young girl in the room began to speak but was quickly cut off by the door being thrown open.

Sanemi walked quickly over to you in the bed and looked over you. His body was tense but his eyes were in a frenzy. He snatched the covers back looking over your legs. He appeared to relax a bit as his eyes did a final once over your whole body and sight landed back on your bandaged arm.

"Can you walk?" He asked. His voice slightly raised.

"I-" you tried to speak, voice cracking from not being used.

"Mr. Sanemi, she shouldn't-"

The young girl stopped speaking when Sanemi's head turned to her.

"Sh-sh she....really shouldn't l-leave." She finished despite the obvious fear, her hands clasped together.

"That's too bad isn't it?" He all but growled.

"Please," she tried again but this time Sanemi ignored her, grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder.

You didn't have a chance to protest and truthfully you didn't think you would. You felt relieved to see him. Being in his arms, although unconventionally, made you feel so much better.

You didn't speak as he made his way outside.

It was only when you neared the forest that the urge to speak came to you.

Sanemi didn't need to hear you though. He felt you before you got any words out. Your body tensed as you realized you were starting into the woods.

"Relax. You're with me. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise." He told you sincerely.

It was like a blanket of warmth was thrown over you. Just a few simple words and you felt at ease. Of course you didn't know Sanemi long, but you trusted him with every fiber of your being. You knew he would keep you safe.

You'd never know the satisfaction you'd given Sanemi with just your body language. He felt like he's just conquered the world feeling you relax beneath his fingertips. The fact that you believed him after who knows what happened to you made him feel incredibly warm inside. He both loved and hated it.

You continued on in silence. Sanemi's grip on you strong and comforting. You hardly felt jostled despite the fact that he was walking. You were so relaxed you could sleep.

His effect on you was unique. You were almost airheaded with him. So much so, you didn't even register that he basically threw you on the ground. You were perplexed but the swirl of wind, leaves, and twigs around you, told you something was going on. It took a second for you to realize what kind of commotion was happening around you. A loud roar rang out before you felt a slight tremor on the ground beneath you. Your eyes followed the direction of the noise and you saw the largest grotesquely built thing you've ever seen. With yellowed glistening skin, something akin to an ogre came running at you, a spiked club in hand.

You knew that you needed to move, but you could barely feel your legs. You tried to get up, you really did, but it was going to be too late. He closed in on you fast, and you could only brace yourself. The attack never came though. A gust of wind wafted onto you and you opened you squinted eyes, wondering why the monster stopped. Just a few more seconds and you could see. A thin red line was visible, running directly down the center of his body, Then it grew. His body splitting into two halves.

You faintly registered Sanemi's voice saying "fuck" as your vision grew dark. You were fighting the strong urge to vomit, feeling super nauseous after what you witnessed.

"Get up!"

Sanemi's command was loud and urgent. You couldn't see him, and you couldn't tell where he was. Your nausea making it that much harder to focus on what was happening around you.

You were trying to stand when you felt Sanemi grab you and move you to a different spot. The sound of snarls and grunts surrounding you. What you couldn't see before you were able to see now that Sanemi was right in front of you. There were numerous demons coming at you two, from all sides. You wanted to be better, stronger, to help him somehow but you just felt sick to your stomach. You didn't care what happened to you but if Sanemi got hurt you would lose your mind. How would he be able to get out of this?

Your question was answered when you felt that powerful surge of wind around you. Sanemi was almost a blur moving around you and killing each and every one of those things. Your head was spinning.

You're not sure what happened after, but the next thing you see is Sanemi taking off his bloodied jacket, turning it inside out and wiping your face. You just watched him, seeing a calmness in his eyes that you only seen once before. When he finished he slightly smiled at you.

"You okay?" He asked.

Your heart skipped a couple of beats for sure. "Yes." You answered. Your voice coming out just above a whisper.

"Come on." He replied, lifting you up from the ground to your feet. "I can carry you if you don't mind a bit of demon blood."

You could only nod this time. Reeling from both the softness in his voice and the thought of what just happened.

He picked you up, and held you bridal style before continuing on his path.

You were both silent the rest of the way to his house. It wasn't until he placed you on your feet in front of his door that he spoke again.

"Would you want to bathe together?" He asked opening his door and then taking your hand to lead you inside.

"Yes." You said quietly.

Sanemi led you to the bathroom, and helped you undress. He then got the bath ready before coming to you with a wet cloth and wiping down the small splatters of blood that were on you.

When he finished he told you not to move before leaving the bathroom. You waited just a couple of minutes before he walked back in clean but also dripping with water. His hair pushed back showing his handsome features.

He walked over to his tub and stopped the water before pouring what looked like oil into the water. After moving the water around, mixing the oil, he came and took your hand, to help you into the warm water.

He sat down and then pulled you to sit on his lap. He wrapped his strong arms around you and sunk a bit deeper into the tub.

"Just relax." He said.

And that's exactly what you did. The pain in her arm more noticeable now that you were still. It was nothing though, in the grand scheme of things. Minor really.

"I'm sorry." You said suddenly.

"For?" Sanemi asked. His deep voice smooth and even.

"For worrying you."

He let out a long sigh. Then he patted the top of your head. "Who said I was worried?"

You turned your face toward him. To look into his eyes.

"I'm serious." You told him.

"I am too." He smirked.

"You use the one time I'm serious with you to joke?"

"Isn't that what you would do?" His smirk grew.

You couldn't even help the smile that bloomed. He was so handsome, and he looked even better when he was smiling, and happy.

"Okay lover, you got me there." It was your turn to smirk. Using one of the many nicknames he hated.

"Watch it vixen, and I might just have to put you in your place."

"Oh please do."

His eyes widened momentarily, before he started to laugh. "Already back to normal huh? You're something else. But I'm with you if you're ready."

You couldn't believe it. "Reeeally?" You mused.

"Yesss." Sanemi echoed your tone, dragging out his answer like you did.

You wasted no time in positioning yourself just right so that you could guide him inside of you.

"I think I really enjoy this playful, meeting me where I am, San." You wiggled your bottom slightly, making sure you were perfectly perched on his member. "I may need to get hurt more often." You laughed lightly. Already heating up from having him inside you.

"Not funny. Too soon." Sanemi replied, his grip tightening around your waist, while the hand that was lightly resting atop your head tangled into your hair, pulling your head back gently.

Before you could say anything else he kissed just below your ear. It was soft and it was sensual. It set the tone for the night.

————

You had been laying together, in all your post sex bliss, for atleast an hour. Mostly just cuddling or caressing one another. You could tell Sanemi had something on his mind which is why you stayed quiet. You appreciated that he didn't push you away and was being almost romantic. Even if just for the night, you wouldn't take it for granted.

Of course, unbeknownst to you, Sanemi was truly relieved you were okay. After all of this time, he wouldn't be able to go on the way he used to if something happened to you. He genuinely cared for you.

It's why you were shocked to hear the uncertainty in his tone when he asked you a question.

"What happened? Last night I mean. Do you want to talk about it?

It took you a few seconds to answer. To be honest, you don't remember anything after he, or it, grabbed you.

Answering truthfully, you told Sanemi just that.

"Do you remember what it looked like?"

"No."

He nodded. "I guess that could be a good thing for you."

You could tell he wasn't satisfied with your answer.

"I can try to remember." You told him.

He shook his head. "No, it's okay. Don't worry about it. No need to have any bad memories." He said running his hand down your back soothingly.

"I'm sorry."

"No more of that," he answered.

"If I remember anything, you'll be the first to know." You smiled lightheartedly.

"Thanks." He said. "Now, get some rest."

You smiled but said nothing as you followed his orders. You turned away from him, now facing the window, with your back against his chest. You grabbed the hand that was on your back and pulled it to your chest.

Sanemi got the memo, and scooted closer, securing you against him in a warm embrace.

He kissed your temple and said "goodnight".

"Goodnight San." You mumbled before easily drifting off into sleep. Unaware of just how much rest you needed.

"I love you."

*******

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41 notes · View notes

trueshellz · 2 years

Text

Warnings: spoilers for Demon Slayer manga, overprotective Sanemi, daddy!Sanemi, pregnant reader, some swearing, secondary character death mentioned, kissing, female reader

Being pregnant with Sanemi’s third child was a royal pain in the ass.

Not that he wasn’t the most perfect husband ever.

He was.

He is.

But also, oh so protective.

You could barely take a step before he was in your face, holding you and checking you were okay, he would carry you everywhere and make sure you had food and water all the time. He’d watch the girls so you could sleep, keeping them busy and occupied so you could get some rest, cooking anything and everything you wanted and waking up every time you even moved in and out the bed.

It was driving you a little mad, to be honest.

“Sanemi, I’m going to lose my shit with you.”

“What? Why?”

“Let me pee in peace!”

You sighed, watching him with an exasperated look as he leaned on the doorframe to the bathroom, arms crossed over his chest and a brow raised as he watched you like a hawk.

“You could fall over.”

“I learnt how to walk years ago.”

“You could slip.”

“The floor is dry.”

“What if you need something?”

“I’m sure Mr Wind Breathing will hear me.”

A longer sigh from him this time as his gaze softened, holding your elbow as he helped you get up and wash your hands before leaning his chin on your shoulder. Your gaze meeting in the mirrors, his eyes stormy and focussed on your bump, hair tousled from your daughters’ tying ribbons in them earlier as his hands rubbed your heavy breasts and stomach lovingly.

“Would it help if I told you it’s a boy, handsome?”

His eyes as big as saucers now looking at you questioningly, you giggled when his mouth opened and closed a few times before his lips kissed your neck. You could feel his breath against the sensitive skin there, the way his chest heaved as he tightened his loose grip around you.

“I wanted to name him Genya.” You continued, pausing as you were unsure if your next words would trigger something in him, you knew about their relationship, his sadness and sorrow, his regrets. So many regrets in how he treated him when he was alive.

“G-genya? After… after my little brother?”

You nodded, your own wet eyes meeting his as you turned in his hold, thumbs wiping at his eyes as they filled with tears before caressing his face, tracing his prominent scars which only added to his rugged good looks.

“Really?” A nod from you again. “You’re sure?”

“Of course. A strong name with great honour for our son. Just like his uncle. And when he’s old enough, we’ll tell him all about how he lived his life to fight for everyone’s safety. Fought with his daddy, saved so many people.”

A nod from Sanemi this time, a small smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug gently until you felt a kick knocking the wind from you. A chuckle leaving his mouth as he crouched down to kiss your protruding stomach, hands rubbing the sides as he spoke to his unborn son, your own hands rubbing his scalp gently.

“No kicking your mama, brat.” A deep breath, you could hear the emotion in his voice as he spoke. “Gonna be nice and strong like your uncle, right.. Genya?”

1K notes · View notes

chiharuhashibira · 8 months

Note

Hello again a thank you for doing the sanemi x abused reader it was soooo goooodddd !!! But can you like make a modern au of teacher sanemi x teacher reader plss???😳thank youuu🤗🤗

Hello again @skeleton-the-gangser! Of course! I would love too!

I want to insert here some plot inside my head and I think a Modern AU of Teacher Sanemi X Teacher Reader would do well on it. XD

But perhaps~ you'll see another character OwO And I hope it would be good for y'all~ UwU

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒀𝒐𝒖

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐗 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔)

Content Warnings: Curse words, Slightly Suggestive

"Y/N-sensei, is it true that you're still not married by now?"

For the millionth time, you've sighed, releasing all of the pent-up irritation that these incessant questions have brought. The gathering was supposed to be a get-together with your old class, but instead, you found yourself in the hot seat.

It's clear that your students from two years ago were just curious about what happened to you. But it really irritated you that they quickly shifted the conversation from their newfound jobs or their college lives, to your nonexistent love life.

"For the tenth time today, yes. I'm not married. I'm still single at 25. For God's sake. Let's just stop talking about me. Let's just chat about how successful you guys have been."

Laughter echoed in the restaurant, but no sound came out of your lips. You just felt like you wanted to head home. You never thought it, but this reunion had become draining. It felt like all your strength had seeped out of your body as you dodged all their invading questions.

Looking around for help from your crazy group of students, your eyes landed on your co-teacher, who was watching how flustered you were all along. You widened your eyes at him, signalling him to come and get you from there.

It seems like Sanemi took that hint, and with a smirk on his lips, he stood up from his seat and went towards you. Rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt in the process.

You gulped when you saw the muscles on his arm, wishing that the man would never notice how you looked at him. Sanemi has always been fit, and there are times that you can't take your eyes off him.

An arm suddenly snaked around your shoulder, pulling you closer. With a creased eyebrow, you turned to look up at Sanemi, who's definitely taller than you. "Ey, ey! I can see how you've been pestering your Y/N-sensei. So I'll be taking her away from you."

Students often flinch at the sound of Sanemi's voice since he has always been the sternest teacher of you all. Often times, you would feel like hitting his head because of his attitude, but now you're very thankful for it.

Sanemi really did take you away from your old seat, despite the grunts that came from your curious students. For some reason, heat seems to build up in your cheeks as you realise that his arms are still wrapped around you. Sanemi's body radiated more warmth than you could ever imagine, as he acted so cold around some people sometimes.

He finally let you go once you were at his table. A small chuckle escaped from his lips as his purple eyes watched you settle down. "Why are you laughing, Shinazugawa-san?" You asked, rolling your eyes in annoyance and fluster.

You looked aside before being drawn into his intimidating stare, and he didn't even answer. "You know, if you'll tease me too—"

"I'm just curious too, Y/N-chan. Why are you still single?"

The audacity to ask that! Incredulous by what he had just said, you stared at him with wide eyes and cocked an eyebrow. You never expected that a man as stern as him would be interested in gossip.

Even though you were trying to keep your cool, all you could think about was punching the smirk right off his face. Maybe it's just the booze talking.

"Why on earth would you care?"

"Perhaps because I can change that?"

You seemed momentarily stunned. Did you catch every word he said? Is he actually so tipsy? After hearing what Sanemi had to say, your mouth nearly hit the floor in shock.

Is that a fucking confession?

There was a brief period of silence. You did nothing except stare at him in bewilderment, like a young child with no idea what was going on in the world.

Perhaps Sanemi couldn't stand that; he pulled you outside, making sure that none of your former students or co-teachers were looking.

No protest came from your lips, even as Sanemi had already carried your bag on his left shoulder, holding you by your right hand. All that matters in your head right now is figuring out what he just said.

One...

Two...

Three...

"What in the actual fuck are you doing, Shinazugawa-san?"

These words suddenly came out of your mouth as you realised that you were being dragged away from the gathering by your co-teacher, who seemed to be too drunk.

Yes, you will admit that you enjoyed the sensation of his calloused hand against your small fingers, wondering how his palm became like this in the first place.

"Oh, mind your language, Y/N-chan!" Sanemi teased, making you pull away from his hold. For real, what's on with him tonight? Curiousness and fluster mixed up within you, making you feel a boiling sensation in the pit of your stomach. You bit your lip and tried to steal your bag from him, but as he was taller and quicker than you, he just moved an inch, and all your efforts were wasted.

You groaned loudly, making some people look at the both of you. Realising that you both were in public, Sanemi raised an eyebrow at some bystanders and spoke with a cold tone.

"What's the matter with you? Enjoying the show? Go fuck off."

No one would ever think that this foul-mouthed man is a teacher with how he acts sometimes. You shot him a glance, mortified at what he had done, but it didn't seem to phase him in the slightest.

He looked back at you and sent you that smirk once again, which annoyed the hell out of you. "Shinazugawa-san, you're fucking drunk. Stop this." You're almost crying from too much frustration over his teasing.

And perhaps he had seen the tears that were welling in your eyes when Sanemi suddenly gulped and gave you back your bag. "Eh, I was just teasing. No need to cry, Y/N-chan." He said it as if both of you were children playing at the playground.

"Whatever!" You said, snatching the bag away from his hand.

You no longer felt like continuing on with the reunion and instead wanted to return home. You then turned around and started walking in the opposite direction, completely befuddling Sanemi. He chased after you, mumbling your name.

His mint perfume came to your senses, bringing back some memories. Whenever both of you are at school, you can always tell he's around because of his distinctive minty, masculine aroma. Sanemi loves to ask how you have been. Often times, he would help you carry books or even walk you to the bus station.

He isn't like that with the other people; it's as if he has a facade when it comes to them.

Or perhaps it's the other way around. You're the one who's seeing his facade.

"Hey, I was just joking earlier." He said it now, with a hushed tone, making you stop walking. As if he had lost his senses, Sanemi bumped into you, accidentally hitting his lip on the top of your head. A yelp came out of your lips as you turned to look at him and saw that there was blood on his lower lip.

"Shinazugawa-san! You should be careful!" You said that all of the annoyance faded as you took your handkerchief and wiped the blood from his lower lip.

It would be an understatement to say that you don't feel anything. As you wiped the blood from his lip, you couldn't help but witness how long his eyelashes were and how the little hair from his bangs moved with the littlest of his movements.

Gulping at the sight, you finally looked away and were about to step a bit further, but Sanemi caught your arm and pulled you close.

"But I'm definitely serious about one thing that I've told you tonight. I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N-chan."

What he had said surprised you. At first, you will think that he is drunk, but you will realise that there is no hint of alcohol in his breath. So, he's definitely sober, and he's clearly confessing to you.

You gulped and didn't answer him for a while. You stared at him once again and saw how serious he is by the look of his face and the glitter of his eyes. His lips, his plumpy lips... You suddenly had the urge to feel them and check how they would taste.

But then, you stopped yourself and these crazy thoughts... for a while...

"Shinazugawa-san, uh... Let's get your wound cleaned first. Then we'll talk about this again..."

A smile crept up his lips—not that signature smirk that he always wears. You didn't smile back, but you're sure that you're blushing like a schoolgirl.

"Where do we go then?" He asked while taking the opportunity to gently squeeze your hand. You took a deep breath and glanced at your hands, which were intertwined.

"Up to you..." You said it in a small tone, feeling a lump on your throat as Sanemi's fingers caressed your hands slowly. When you returned his gaze, his earnest grin changed into a childlike smile, and a flush appeared on his cheek.

"I know the perfect place. Come with me."

𝑻𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅…

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𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 1, 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆!

𝑶𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒔𝒉, 𝒐𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒔𝒉!!! 𝑰'𝒎 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒘!

So, surprise! This story will be chaptered, and it'll be my first chaptered fic since 2014/2015 I think? HAHA!

Thank you once again @skeleton-the-gangser for the prompt >///< I will definitely tag you to the next chapters~ I hope you like the first one tho!

Feel free to comment or reblog~

✌𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓷✌

Feel free to request any content~ Would really love those UwU

Thank you for reading this fic! 🌸

Love yah all!

Ja ne~

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

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hhighkey · 11 months

Text

Snakeskin // Chapter Three, delicate

Shinazugawa Snamei x OC (female)

Rating: mature, general for now

Story Contains: sanemi is tasked with being a bodyguard, unhealthy relationships, family issues, violence, shitty men taking advantage of OC, mutual pining, she falls first he falls harder, strangers to lovers basically, hurt/comfort, sanemi tries really hard to be nice, OC is dense because she’s been locked away for most her life to be married off, loss of innocence, assault, eventual smut, dom sanemi, size kink, overprotective sanemi, easily jealous sanemi, really really slowburn

Word Count: 2810

Tags: reply to be tagged

Masterlist

Sanemi wasn't one for child's play. He was straight to the point, even too much so for his own good. Never putting up with anyone for longer than needed, he just couldn't bother. As he scanned over Neon's room, he had a sinister feeling that was what he was in for. Splashes of pink, other bright colors, decorated the walls. She had stuffed animals lining her bed, playful tapestries on the wall, other simply cute furniture laid out. The money the Mistui's had spared no price to have the finest things adorn her room. But the way her eyes would sparkle looking at him lead him to believe that something wasn't quite right. It didn't take a genius to understand what was going on.

Neon sat on her bed, book in hand as she stared at him with those innocent wide eyes. The two were alone and it was dead silent, just the chirping of birds outside the open window piercing through. He felt awkward under her gaze as he stood there in the middle of her room, hands on his hips as he surveyed. Surely she was eating up his scarred skin, eyes dancing along the jagged cuts- probably wanting to ask about them.

"Alright kid," Sanemi started gruffly, "there's gonna be some ground rules here. And it's that I'm not putting up with shit."

It took a moment for his words to register with her before she nodded slowly, "okay."

"Okay? Just okay? No arguments or anything..."

She shrugged, "it's not like I have a say."

"What the fuck," Sanemi murmured under his breath, not caring if she heard it though. She just blatantly agreed to whatever he wanted in a sense, no signs of misbehaving. His eyes narrowed at her. Neon sat there stiffly, refined as if she'd had it beaten into her how to sit, how to hold herself.

"It takes me a bit to get comfortable around people," she finally said to him, her attempt at explaining as she sensed his angry confusion.

"Okay well uh, I've never played bodyguard before so not really sure what to do with you."

"Well normally guards just follow me around or tell me where I'm allowed to be that day."

"That sounds ass."

Neon giggled at his brashness, liking as someone else saw it the way she did. He was certainly a scary character, her first reaction towards him was he'd be someone she'd run from. She could only wonder the type of horrors he saw daily to receive the scars that littered his body. Scars that he seemed to show proudly that were now covered up in Mitsui guard clothing.

"And how am I supposed to know where you're allowed to be? I don't care, just go wherever I'll follow. Don't do anything dumb."

"I don't know I mainly just stay in my room all day." Neon responded.

"Seriously?"

"Yes?"

"I am not getting locked in your pink, glittery room all day."

"Then do you want to see the gardens?" she perked up. Outside! Neon adored the expansive gardens in the backyard and rarely was she allowed to go. She hoped showing her new bodyguard would be a good enough reason to let her prance around them.

"Yeah sure."

"Okay let's go!" she was excited. He saw how her eyes lit up, her voice raising a few octaves.

Sanemi watched as she practically jumped up off her bed and ran to find shoes in her closet. She was already dress for the day, her pale blonde hair sparkling against her traditional pink kimono with a mountain scenery printed on the fabric. Upon being content with a pair of sandals, she smiled at him like a puppy waiting to be commanded what to do. Looking at him waiting for him to speak,

"What." he remarked.

"May we go?"

"I'm waiting for you to show me where to go."

"Oh." Neon nodded, brows furrowed like she was trying to comprehend his statement, "I suppose I can lead. Let me grab one more thing."

Neon quickly scanned her room before her gaze landed on her side table- a small leather bound book with an assortment of pencils sat there. She grasped it up and hugged it to her chest, "let's go."

She seemed too young to be eighteen, her demeanor much more childish than he expected. Watching her skip down the halls, talking her head off about the flowers she was to show him in the garden- was exhausting already. But while she seemed confident in her movements towards a door leading outside, it was like she was waiting for something. Constantly looking around as if she was walking on ice waiting for someone to appear. There was timidness in her body language, even as she pushed on a door that lead them to the outside.

The gardens of the Mitsui's Yoshiwara mansion were large being so close to the city known for its nightlife. There was sprawling emerald green grass along the ground where trees were planted in some sort of precise order. Sections of the garden was clear by type and color of flower, fountains and arbors with places to sit. It was like a tiny maze how cobbled paths were being overrun with moss due to a man-made koi pond they glided past. Neon seemed to know exactly where she wanted to go as she described each flower and it's history, only stopping if she deemed necessary for him to see something specific.

"How do you know all this?" Sanemi murmured, feeling out of place besides the tiny girl who was rambling about pink petunias. This would have been a nightmare for him if he weren't experiencing it in real life- his bulked, scarred body surrounded by popping colors.

"Oh I read all about them. I know how to take care of them too, at least what books say."

"I'm guessing there's gardeners."

"Yeah. I'm not allowed to help." her eyes seemed lonesome as she longingly stared at the bed of flowers that was clearly half finished, "I'm excited to see the display for this one when it's done. But come on, we're moving on." From one thing to the next was how her mind worked. She couldn't spend her time focusing on one thing for too long, her attention span was utterly horrific with most things.

Neon abruptly stopped at a small, overflowing weeping willow tree with its branches that touched the ground. She scurried along, carefully going over placed rocks until she reached a fresh cut patch of grass below the tree. Sanemi followed her, taking a seat against the tree like she had, inches from her. Their spot overlooked the man made pond, bushes of delicate, blue hydrangea lined the water's edge. It was peaceful. And for a split second it was easy to forget about the large walls that lined the multiple acre garden of the mansion at the edge of Yoshiwara in the good part. It was easy to forget the prison the walls felt like to the young girl, being able to feel freedom of the outdoors.

Feeling content, taking in a breath of fresh air, Neon messily braided her hair back so she could work. With only loose strands hanging in front of her face, she began to situate herself with the book and pencils she brought. It was a sketchbook that frequented her rare trips to the garden, spending her time drawing the flowers that grew there. She loved it. It was her escape. When she drew, she was in a trance, where all her surroundings outside the object of her desires were nonexistent. Not even the white haired boy attempting to look over her shoulder could distract her.

It wasn't uncomfortable for Neon to be accompanied by a stranger who watched her every move, she was used to it. But she wasn't used to it being somewhere near her age and as intimidating as Sanemi was. Yet she was easily able to acclimate herself with his presence unlike him who felt so out of place. But what was he supposed to do? Sanemi realized had this was going to be boring for the next couple days, that sitting with nothing to do was going to drag. He kept glancing over at Neon but what was suddenly going to happen? Her sketchbook had her so absorbed that she probably wouldn't want to move for awhile.

So he attempted to settle himself in, find something to distract him to pass the time. Counting clouds? Listening to distant voices of guards? Letting the wind wash over him which felt like home? None of it sufficed as he spent multitudes of minutes trying. He even practiced his total concentration breathing without training for the first time in awhile, feeling it was boring to just sit and do so now after years of perfecting it. Serenity was what he felt as his breaths were calm and his mind began to drift, something he didn't let himself do often. Sanemi wasn't sure how he ended up here, why he actually agreed to do this for Master. Rengoku would have been the perfect fit for Neon, or especially Mitsuri! He promised himself in that moment he'd behave for the poor girl, limit the profanities or harsh remarks as she didn't deserve that. And he's see her through to the auction.

Neon's little voice eventually broke through to him as she pushed on his shoulder. She squeaked back in embarrassment as he became more conscious looking at her, "what?"

"I'm done, I'm feeling sort of cold."

"Oh okay." Sanemi got reacquainted with his surroundings before his eyes shifted down to her book, "Oi can I see?"

"O-oh sure." she hummed as she handed him the sketch book, "no one ever sees them, be kind."

Sanemi wasn't sure why he'd ever consider belittling what she worked hard on, he wasn't that cruel. Sanemi began to leaf through the pages until he landed on the one she'd just been working on. Neon clearly enjoyed the gardens, as everything she drew reflected it. From the fountain, the koi, or to the very flowers growing. But today she'd been drawing the bed of hydrangeas in front of them where they sat. Her sketch was focused on a few put together, perfect shading and shapes for the petals. With delicate pencil strokes she'd been able to create such a life like hydrangea bundle, no wonder she was focused for so long.

"This is good. Ever think about painting them or getting some color in them?" he handed her the sketchbook back.

"No no, I would be scared to ruin it. I just sketch."

"Makes sense I guess." Sanemi sighed, resting his head against the tree trunk with his eyes fluttered close. He was surprisingly tired after hours of doing nothing outside under a bit of shade from the leaves.

"I don't get to come out here much." Neon's voice broke his focus making his eyes open to peer at her.

"Why?" he grumbled, re-closing his eyes.

"My dad prefers I just stay in my room. But, it's just a garden what could happen to me out here..."

"Hmph."

Noticing his disinterest in the topic she brought up something she assumed he'd be more willing to talk about, "So do you just slay demons? How does that work?"

"You don't wanna hear 'bout it." such a simple response.

"But I do."

"No." he remarked back.

Neon pouted as she gazed at him with a frown. He wasn't even looking at her! That annoyed her as she made a soft mewl noise under her breath, then sighed. She just wanted to talk, "do you hate me?"

"I don't know you."

"You can get to know me," she said with longing in her voice, "I don't really have friends here and you're kinda my age."

"I'm being paid to be your bodyguard." Sanemi readjusted himself, sitting up straight as his eyes were on her with an unreadable emotion.

"Okay." defeat.

But the thing was as crazy as Sanemi was, he was kind. Women and kids deserved nothing but respect and that included the girl in front of him, who seemed like a pure soul. She was cute, seemed like the type he could corrupt with ease. Yet he was curious about her, she had strange reactions and an even weirder upbringing. He shouldn't take out his frustration of utter boredom and an unusual mission on her, he was invading her personal, intimate space. And Sanemi never spent one on one time with anyone in this way, so doing so with a stranger left him with a funny taste in his mouth.

"How about if we get through the weekend without a hitch, I'll tell you about what I do some more." Sanemi called over to her as she looked so sad staring at the grass beneath her.

Neon immediately lit up at him as her cheeks blazed pink, "cool!"

"I'm not sure what you're schedule is normally like but I'm getting hungry." he changed the topic bluntly, having been ignoring his growling stomach for the last hour plus, "and you said you were getting cold."

"Oh yeah. Uh, we can go to the kitchens, I didn't even think of that. I'm only able to eat breakfast and dinner. I'm so sorry."

"You're fine." he was surprised by her comment, but seeing how tiny she was it seemed plausible.

Neon was peculiar. They had to take a certain route back to go into the mansion. She had to make sure they were both brushed off, absolutely no grass or dirt anywhere that could come off them. And she insisted on sandals coming off to hold them as they weave their way to the kitchen. He noticed all her little ticks that if it were anyone else he'd have called out them out all annoyed. And the whole time she never. Stopped. Talking. Neon had a story for this painting and that painting. Then she had an explanation for why parts of the molding of a certain wall was broken off. Clearly she was a detail oriented person who learned everything she knew from watching and reading. A straight forward girl.

But most of all he noticed her genuine smile towards the staff. Saw how they all seemed relieved when it was her who walked through the kitchen door, introducing him to all the cooks and maids on the spot. They were all older women, those who were probably cast aside in the 'never sleeping' city per not having husbands. Under his watchful eye he studied Neon's interactions to see more of how she was. With an excited tone she asked about others, how their days were, and if they'd be so kind to make food for them off schedule. And they did. The kitchen was surprisingly quaint for the size of the mansion, but it made sense as it was only for the 'help' out of the way. It was warm in there from the fired up stove, loud from hanging utensils, while the open windows did nothing to drown out the sound or heat.

It wasn't long before two bowls of rice, miso soup, and soba noodles were placed in front of them. Sanemi's stomach growled from the delicious smell as it wafted into his nostrils.

"Miss Ono makes the best food, if you tell her your favorite she'll make it."

Sanemi nodded in agreement as he shoveled the food into his mouth, tastebuds exploding. But from the corner of his eye he could see her still staring at him, "yeah?" he murmured.

"What's your favorite food?"

Oh, her previous statement was her way of asking, "ohagi."

"I had that occasionally, very yummy. Miss Ono!" she called over, "tomorrow can we have ohagi?"

Sanemi's eyes widened as he turned red from her brashness to get his favorite food made, "oi," he grunted at her.

Neon just giggled as the head cook told her she'd add it to the list, "told you she'd make it. I guess it can be my thanks for going to have to follow me around this weekend."

"We'll see if you're thanking me after."

"You'll have fun." she replied, "there's so much to see and do, I get to interact with so many people."

In his eyes Neon was breakable, the definition of delicate like the flowers she so loved. There were cues alerting him to her poor treatment, Neon being locked away from the world inside her pink bedroom walls. He had to be observant to survive in his line of work and he couldn't help that it spilled over to people. Sanemi had a sinking feeling in his stomach as to why she seemed young for her age, so unaware of life's cruelty, so dense.

#sanemi shinaguzawa #kny sanemi #sanemi headcanons #sanemi x reader #sanemi imagines #demon slayer sanemi #demon slayer #fanfic #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #sanemi fanfic #bodyguard sanemi #hurt/comfort

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babybotox · 2 years

Text

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Fem!reader (demon fight)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello everyone,

(pause for audience reaction)

Long time lurker, first-time poster. Wrote my first-ever fight scene today. Literally just wanged it out whilst listening to the Immigrant Song (felt inspired for a big bad demon slaying) to get back into the grove of writing. This will be part of a much larger story (i hope🙃) but all I got is this for now, will update as soon as I have written more 😘 I've been toying with the idea of fanfiction for while and tried to sign up for AO3 (Still on the waiting list, lol) so I thought maybe I should return to my roots and start posting on Tumblr again 🤪 I personally do not vibe with y/n (they're an absolute babe but just not for my writing style) but I do enjoy writing in POV so I've christened this FemOC Rio but this is literally just for story purposes, I've tried to keep her as much of a blank canvas as possible so that we may all be Rio (and may we all dance on the sand)

Anyways....

Rio is the absolutely reckless and lightning-fast drumroll please

✨Thunder Hashira✨

The story takes place a little before our boys™️ meet the Hashira gang. I am planning on having our girl Rio whip Zenitsu into shape later on in the story, with some absolutely ruthless training sessions for all ye thirsty Thunder pals out there. This will be a Sanemi x FemOC/POV story, however, I still haven't quite decided how I'm gonna torture myself but I was thinking a good ole angsty story?? Maybe a little bit of 😈smut😈 at some point.

(Suggestion box/requests are open)

Let me know what you think. All criticism is welcome (I'm already crying so it's fine) but please be mindful that I am a person with feelings and literally hanging on by a thread as it is 🤠

Hope you enjoy this little taster.

Love always,

bby Botox ✨

The wind blew past your ears, replacing all the sound with one large wooosh as you nimbly dove behind the demon.

Gotcha! You thought to yourself as you lurched forward, sword raised high, ready to strike.

In a split second, it was gone - Vanished.

Your sword struck cleanly through the air, producing a loud clang as it struck the ground instead.

"Silly bitch." it hissed.

"Fuck you!" you spat back, leaning your head back still in the striking stance.

The demon hung above you on an exposed beam. Swinging leisurely from his ankles, a smile spread across his decrepit face, exposing the spikes of his teeth. Spit spindles forming between the peaks.

"Rio!" you heard a call as Sanemi appeared panting as he appeared in the doorway. "You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"I can handle this!" you called back, crouching deeply before you sprung upwards into the air.

The demon swung forwards, spun once, and then disappeared again. You landed softly on the beam where he once swung. You scanned the room from above, looking for movement in the darkness.

Silence crept into the room again, Sanemi stood in the doorway, sword high also scanning the room eager for a strike.

"Come out, come out" you sung softly from the beam, the smell of rotting wood beneath your feet grew stronger.

You heard a snap and before you knew it you found yourself falling back to the ground.

"Shit." You hissed, you knew better than to stand on rotten wood.

Your sword clanged out of your reach, your eyes snapping open to find it.

"Who's gotcha now, silly?" The demon's fangs appeared inches from your face, it's hot breath smelled of sulphur and wet grass. It was mocking you.

Sanemi yelled at the top of his lungs and dashed forward slashing the air as the demon disappeared from above you - The smell lingered.

Wiping the sweat from your brow you straightened back up and reached for your sword. "Nearly got me there, Shinazugawa" You called out.

"I wish I had" he spat back. You backed into each other, your backs pressed together for cover, swords raised high. "Where the hell is this thing?" You could feel his heartbeat on your own back.

You turned slowly in sync, the smell hit you again, and dust scattered beside your foot.

He was back up on a beam.

You peeled your back from the wind pillar's using it as leverage instead, pressing yourself off him and lifting upwards into the air. The demon's head was within reach, peering down from the beam.

Thunder breathing. First form.

Raising your sword high above your head, your shoulders stinging from the fall, the demon turns its head, his eyes locking on yours immediately.

Your throat tightens, and you feel a pull on your leg.

DOOF.

Your back hits the ground again and the wind is nearly knocked from your lungs

"Stay down" Sanemi commands his back towering over you.

"I was about to behead it!" you protested, straightening back up.

He squares his shoulder into you, knocking you on your ass again.

"Sanemi!" you scream, louder this time. "I. Can. Do. It." you speak through gritted teeth straightening back up and dashing to the other side of the room before he can stop you.

The demon laughs above you both, short, harsh laughs. "Puny humans" he shakes his head, matted black hair clumps at the sides of his face.

He disappears again and materialises in front of Nasemi, his frame almost obscuring the wind pillar.

"Why don't you let her try?" he mocks, running a bony hand through Sanemi's hair.

"Go to hell" Sanemi strikes again, unsucesfully, the demon vanishes.

From the corner of your eye, you spot dirt shuffling out from a dark corner. Gripping your sword you launch yourself forward once more.

Thunder Breathing. Third Form.

You swing your sword as thunder claps, light filling the room.

Thunder Swarm.

In the brilliant light, you can see the demon's grotesque figure, like a gargoyle with fish scales engulfed in the lightning orb.

You waste no time, lurching forward with your sword drawn high. You strike down with all your might whilst it's still cornered...

The force of the swing caused your body to turn mid-air, you pressed your foot to one of the walls to try to stop but the speed you were carrying launched you sideways. You kept your body limp as you tumbled through the room until the wall stopped you.

You hissed as your shoulder collided with the hard brick, and the taste of blood filled your mouth. You lay still for a few seconds, your face buried in dirt and dust. Arms stretched out above your head, sword still in hand.

"You bitch" it hissed. "You fucking cow!"

The smell of burnt demon flesh filled in the air, and the sound of crackling drowned out the screams.

You got it.

A sigh left your mouth, you turned your head to the side and smiled quietly to yourself. Another succesful kill.

"Are you insane?!" You winced as a large hand hooks under your arm, practically dragging you upwards. Sanemi's wild eyes meet yours. "ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?!" He repeats, getting closer to your face, his breath fanning your cheeks.

"I got it, didn't I?" you steady yourself on the floor, your right leg stinging from the fall, your shoulder practically on fire under Sanemi's grip. You try to unhook your arm from his grip but it only tightens.

"You're not a demon" he glares at you, his hair pointing in all directions. "You're a human. You will get hurt"

"Yeah, and you're hurting me right now" you retort, letting your gaze fall to his grip on your arm.

"I'm not doing any more of these with you" He drops your arm forcefully.

"Good." you unbutton the first button of your uniform, pulling down the fabric to expose your should and examine the damage. "The only thing you did was get in my way, anyways" you continued, craning your neck to try and see your own shoulder more clearly.

"You were gonna get yourself killed." Sanemi paces over to where the demon's head has now been replaced by a pile of dust.

"You were gonna get me killed!" You sheathed your sword.

"What?!" Sanemi's head snapped back around, the scar tissue on his wounds slightly shinier in the dim moonlight.

"You spent half the time slamming me to the ground" You rubbed your sore shoulder with your free hand. "Don't you know I need the speed to get a good swing?" You weren't lying, standing at a smaller height than most demons you usually needed to have some kind of momentum to get a strong enough swing in to make a clean cut.

Sanemi rolled his eyes and sheathed his own sword.

"This one wasn't too big" he mumbled, kicking the dirt with his foot. "Don't know why they needed the two of us"

"It was fast" you looked over at the place, an old house in the woods. Half of it already on the ground, demolished by the hands of time and lack of repair.

"What was it doing here?" Sanemi's eyes narrowed, his hand returning to the hilt of his nichirin. "There isn't another village for at least a mile." his gaze scanning the room once again, eyes completely adjusted to the lack of light.

"It probably fed on merchants" you stepped closer to the front door, or what would have once been a front door, all that was left of it now was a frame, crumbling, swollen wood. From here you could see the road, beaten and weathered, the dirt outside turning dark from the rain "People traveling, messengers, whatever the hell it could find"

"Still doesn't make sense" Sanemi's haori was blown gently by the breeze, exposing his scarred upper body. On his abdomen two scars made an X, he was proudest of that one - it had taken the longest to recover from.

"I mean, it does" you leaned on the doorframe with your good shoulder, "it didn't have to move for food - It came to it" You cradled your arm, taking the pressure off the shoulder, the cool breeze lapping at your skin, a few stray drops falling directly on your head.

The wind pillar didn't move, only turned his head to continue scanning the room.

You rolled your eyes and sighed "Look whatever it was, it's dead now. I killed it" you started when the screech of your Kasugai nearly made you jump out of your own skin.

"All gone" it squawked. "No more, for now. All gone!"

"Do you believe me now?" You tilted your head at the wind pillar who had crouched into a fighting stance, his sword already drawn "Please don't kill my friend" you mocked, setting it loose into the night sky once again.

36 notes · View notes

peachdues · 7 months

Text

IN THE NETHERWOOD

PART I

KINKTOBER 2023 ♤ WEREWOLF!SANEMI X RED RIDING HOOD! READER

A/N: did I get carried away? Yes. Do I care? No.

Part I is plot + smut. Part II is minimal plot and a lot of smut. Like a concerning amount.

Forgive the pace/editing errors. This was supposed to be a one shot that turned into a two part fic lmao.

CW: violence/some description of gore • mating • knotting/discussions of knotting • biting/mating • feral/protective Sanemi • virgin!Reader who is a big time monsterfucker • oral sex (F!receiving) • Sanemi makes a mess of his breeches • implied murder/other violence by Douma, but left purposefully ambiguous • brief description of another human being eaten

This honestly could be a multi-part fic that continues after Part II, given how much I leave open — but I’ll let you all decide if you want that. For now, enjoy the ride, monster-fuckers. Happy Kinktober!

You’d known Douma’s band of acolytes had been pursuing you for at least a quarter of a mile through the dark wood, and you’d only grown more and more desperate as the excited titter of their voices drew nearer.

You were panicking; with every moment that passed, your legs grew heavier as the weariness of the last day and a half of your journey became a weight you could no longer ignore.

Find the huntsman of the Netherwood! Your grandmother had pled as she’d fastened the thick, scarlet cloak around your shoulders. He guides those in need to far-away villages. He will take you somewhere safe — where Douma cannot find you.

Grandmother did not dare let any of the tears sparkling in her eyes fall as she looped her hands behind you and pulled the hood of your cloak up over your head, concealing your hair from sight. Head north until you come to the river and then head west. You will find his cabin. Go!

Granny had all but pushed you out of her small cottage — the cottage you had come to regard as your home — and off into the chilly, autumn night.

You hadn’t questioned the urgency, though the realization that you would likely never again return to your grandmother — or even see her alive — hadn’t stung any less. But you knew, as well as the old woman who’d raised you after your parents disappeared in the Netherwood, that if Douma got his hands on you, you would never be seen or heard from again.

Just like his four other previous wives.

The last woman he’d taken as his bride had been a dear friend of yours — Kotoha — and she’s arguably lasted the longest, though perhaps that was because she’d been pregnant when the frost lotus containing his marriage demand arrived at her parents’ hut.

The eclectic village worship leader hadn’t apparently minded that Kotoha had been pregnant with another man’s child — she was unmarried, young, and beautiful; it was all Douma required.

The tension among the village women had dissipated once Kotoha had survived the first week of her union with the rainbow-eyed monster. After all, the other three wives had barely lived to see the next morning, never mind seven.

Kotoha had lived several more months — even giving birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy whom she’d doted over, and even you thought that perhaps the rumors swirling through the village had been wrong. Perhaps those other three women truly had run off into the night with various lovers, leaving Douma alone in his mansion in the eastern wing of the village.

The last you’d seen her, your friend had been smiling and bright, happily making her way back to her marital home, baby Inosuke happily snuggled against her chest, as she’d cheerfully waved you goodbye.

Kotoha was never heard from again. Though the village elders had dispatched a recovery team to search for her, no trace of either her, nor the precious baby boy whom she’d loved so dearly, could be found.

A week later, your grandmother opened the front door of her homely cottage to find a single frost lotus resting on her doorstep.

No one turned down Douma’s marriage proposals; but neither did anyone survive them.

And so, your grandmother had packed a small satchel with what meager provisions she could scrounge, wrapped you in her heirloomed scarlet cloak, and pushed you out the door, begging you to find the mysterious huntsman of the Netherwood so that you would not become the village’s newest ghost.

Douma had surely slaughtered your beloved grandmother by now, having learned of her insolence.

You clamped down on the mournful sob building in your throat, knowing if you allowed yourself to give into your grief, it would only slow you down even further, and make it more likely that her sacrifice for your life would be in vain.

Though, in fairness, it might all be for naught anyways; the Netherwood was not a humble forest with only the occasional gray wolf or hungry bear to fear.

For centuries, your village had stood on the outskirts of the dark, ancient wood which divided it from the nervous system of villages and bustling little towns that made up the region. That isolation meant your village had become largely self-sustaining, though a few brave souls managed to make a yearly sojourn across the Wood to trade with establishments on the other side. The forest stretched for miles, encompassing small mountains and rocking ravines that were difficult enough to navigate on their own, especially in disagreeable weather.

But rugged and often temperamental terrain was child’s play compared to the horrors which lurked within the shadows of the Wood.

To start, as you’d come to realize over the last day and a half of your trek, the Netherwood was nothing but shadow. Though you’d surely traveled through the night and well into the following day, not a trace of daylight had pierced the thick canopy of leaves and twisted vines which loomed overhead. Your only indicator that day had, in fact, arrived, had been your sighting of a few songbirds quietly fluttering from tree to tree, as their songs swallowed by the deafening silence of the forest.

But the eerie quiet of the Wood was nothing compared to what you knew prowled within its depths.

You’d grown up hearing tales of the various beasts and cryptids that made the Netherwood their home – and made any unsuspecting traveler their meal. Your own parents had embarked on a dangerous trek into the Netherwood, seeking out a village on the other side rumored to have much-needed medication for your ailing grandfather, only to never be seen or heard from again. Your grandfather had succumbed to his illness not long after, though you’d often wondered whether his guilt and heartbreak hadn’t hastened his demise.

And so the Netherwood had taken your parents and your grandfather, leaving you with only your cherished grandmother as your family. Over the years, those who dared venture into the Wood often did not return, the dark of the forest swallowing them whole and leaving no trace of them behind.

Now, it was through this very Wood that you found yourself running, clinging to the desperate hope that perhaps you’d find this mysterious Huntsman and be saved, though the sluggishness that had entered your exhausted limbs seemed to suggest that you were more likely to be caught by your pursuers. And that was assuming you didn’t end up as something dinner’s before then.

You continued to stumble through the trees, ducking under various branches and batting away stringy spiderwebs, trying not to allow your frustration to get the better of you. After a while, the voices tracking you grew more and more silent, before the walls of the forest swallowed them completely, leaving you utterly alone.

As you shoved brush and thorns out of your way, the forest opened to give way to a small river, though it was barely more than a creek. It bubbled merrily, as though completely unaware of the horrors lurking behind the shadows of the ancient grove of trees.

Several lengths ahead, you spotted something crouched beside the water. Your first instinct was panic, thinking you’d stumbled across one of the nefarious creatures of the Wood, a meal being offered to it on a silver platter, but as your vision adjusted, you realized it was only a man, splashing his face with the creek’s cool reserve.

“A-are you the Huntsman?” You hated how timid your voice was, but truthfully, you’d been running for what felt like an eternity, and each snap of a twig in the Woods around had you on edge. You deserved to be frightened, dammit.

The man snorted before rising to his feet. “I am a Huntsman; whether I am the one you seek, I cannot say.”

He was taller than you and well-built. His tunic boasted a deep v at the chest exposing a vast swath of the man’s sculpted chest, the skin as scarred as his broad forearms. His breeches were by no means skintight, but it was clear his legs were also made from the same, sinewy muscle that covered the rest of him.

Idly, you wondered whether he was as scarred beneath his clothing as he was out of it.

He was handsome, there was no doubt, but his appearance was striking. He had a mop of silvery-white hair, parted slightly to cover the criss-cross of scars etched into the right side of his forehead. Below a pair of startling lilac eyes, you could just make out another jagged scar that extended from his right ear to the bridge of his nose.

He turned back to you, mouth pulled down in an annoyed grimace. “What is your business in the Wood, girl?”

His eyes roamed the crimson cloak draped around your shoulders, and you swore for a moment there was something akin to amusement glinting in his eyes, despite the severe set of his mouth.

You shuddered at the sharp intensity of his lilac gaze. “I seek a guide through the Wood — I need to get to one of the villages on the other side.”

Something in the forest snapped and you flinched, though it did not bother the Huntsman, who only narrowed his eyes at you.

“Are you being pursued?”

You nodded, your fingers tightening around the folds of your cloak and wrapping it tighter around your shivering frame. “I do not know how many, but they have dogs.”

The Huntsman nodded, stroking his chin in contemplation. “I can get you to the other side in two days; three at most, should your followers pose a problem.”

You were floored at how easily he accepted your request, even with the additional threat of being hunted like animals by Douma’s men, but you were grateful all the same.

“I have payment,” you started, hands shooting to dig through the small pouch fastened around your waist, but the wild Huntsman only shook his head.

“I do not take payment. I will escort you and then I won’t have to worry about any creatures of the Wood sniffing out your bones and getting too close.”

Charming, you groused in your head, though the implication nestled in his words sent another shudder down your spine.

“What is your name, girl?” The Huntsman’s voice pulled you back to him and the forest, his face expectant.

You gave him your name and felt a warmth spread through you as he repeated it, mouth mulling over each syllable like it was wrapped with velvet.

“You can call me Sanemi,” the Huntsman said, reaching for the hand-axe lying on its side by the riverbank. “Follow me.”

---

The Hunstman led you through a winding path that would have been untraceable had you not been watching the way Sanemi’s eyes marked certain landmarks — an errant tree branch here, a particular thorn bush there.

“Since you are being tracked, we need to move right away,” Sanemi had explained as you stumbled after him, your feet snaring over the various bumps and snarls of tree roots that jutted out from the forest floor. “But I need to gather a few things from my cabin. It’s just a little ways off, and then we will leave.”

Sanemi had largely ignored you for the rest of the trek, though he’d only cut his eyes back to you to ask a single question.

“Where did you get that cloak?”

You fingered the heavy edge of the ruby wool that your grandmother had fastened snug around your shoulders, its thick folds providing you protection against the biting chill of the autumn wind. “It is an heirloom. My grandmother said it would keep me safe.”

The Huntsman hummed quietly to himself. “That is one word for it, I suppose.”

“How do you mean?”

Sanemi slowed his pace so that you could catch up and walk beside him as he spoke.

“That cloak is enchanted. Have you not noticed the strange stitching along the hood?”

Your hands flew to grip the edge of the hood drawn over your head. Sure enough, beneath the pads of your fingertips, you could feel the odd swirls of thread forming some indiscernible shapes along the outermost portion of the cape’s top.

“I’d not; this was not my cloak to begin with. It was my Grandmother’s.” You did not know why the Huntsman’s tone made you feel self-conscious, as though you’d been too stupid to notice such an obvious variation in the cape snugly fastened around you. It wasn’t as though you’d been afforded a great deal to time to look over it, in those hurried moments before Grandmother had shoved you through her front door and into the Wood beyond.

Sanemi only shrugged as he continued on ahead, putting distance between you once more, but he called back one final time. “Red is a symbol for many things, girl. I hope your Grandmother at least warned you of that.”

----

Sanemi's cabin was small, but homely. You'd been waiting uneasily near the unlit fireplace at the center of the single-room cabin, unsure whether it would be considered ill-mannered for you to drape yourself across one of the overstuffed armchairs pointed towards the hearth, as the Huntsman milled about, gathering various supplies.

"Have you any preference for which village I take you to?" He called as he rifled through a sparsely-stocked cabinet, scooping up dried provisions into a small leather pouch.

You shook your head. "No, I wish only to get as far away from the Wood as possible."

Sanemi nodded, stalking past you to open another cupboard. Glinting against the dimming light outside, you saw the curved blade of an axe, sharp and polished.

"I can make do with that," the Huntsman said simply. "Though should we run into any weather, it may take longer than three days to reach the other side of the Wood."

You picked nervously at your nails. Any response you could have given him was cut off by the faint cacophany of voices somewhere in the distance.

Brow furrowed, Sanemi crossed the floor of his cabin to a small window and squinted through the fogged glass. Over his shoulder, you could spy the faint glow of fire making its way towards the cabin.

Torches.

You did not need to guess whose torches they were; there was only one reason for a band of men to be in the Netherwood at this hour.

"It's them," you whispered in horror, your heart sinking to your stomach. "The man who is after me -- they're his -- followers. I hesitate to call them men."

Sanemi's eyes narrowed as he glanced back out the window, and you swore you saw his nostrils flare, as though scenting the air.

He gripped you by your forearm, tugging you further into his cabin. “We don’t have much time until they come knocking. I think I can hold them off — but you have to trust me.”

You looked over the wild man, from the thick, silvery scars seared into the rippled muscles of his forearms to the thinner, more delicate scars which crossed half his face, swallowing down any fear you’d had of the huntsman upon first stumbling upon him by the river.

You’d been scared of him, but you feared the fate awaiting you at the hands of Douma and his cronies far more; and so, you were desperate enough to place your life in Sanemi’s rough, calloused hands.

“I trust you,” you vowed, though your voice trembled slightly. “Please just don’t let them take me.”

Something in Sanemi’s eyes tightened as he looked over you, but he nodded, hands reaching for the small pouch strapped to his upper thigh.

“I’m sure you’re going to protest what I’m about to do,” he said quickly, producing a small hunting knife from the pocket. “But I need you to believe me when I say this is the only way.”

“Take off your cloak.” Sanemi ordered, standing tall before you, hand out in waiting.

Your hands flew hesitantly to the metal clasp resting just below the hollow of your throat. “But my grandmother said —“

“I know what your grandmother said, girl, but I’m telling you, that cloak will do you no good indoors. It is only effective out in the Wood.”

You could tell the huntsman’s patience was wearing thin, but still, you hesitated.

Sanemi huffed impatiently. “I swear to you I will return it the moment they leave, but you must remove it now. They will use it to track your scent.”

You shuddered as your fingers quickly freed the small latch, and the crimson wool draped around your shoulders loosened. With some hesitancy, you held your cloak out to the huntsman, who balled the fabric up tight before crossing the floor of his cabin, shoving it into a small armoire and behind several hung pelts and well-worn leathers.

Sanemi was before you once more before you could blink. “Turn around,” he ordered, twirling the knife in his hand to motion you to spin and put your back to him.

You complied without protest, hands twiddling nervously before you, until you heard the unmistakeable sound of fabric tearing at your back.

The corset worn over the cotton layers of your dress loosened and fell to the cabin floor, it’s ribboned ties neatly severed where they’d been laced at your back.

“What in the devil —,” you began hotly, arms jumping to cross over your unsupported chest as you twisted to glare at the huntsman.

A warm hand firmly pushed your shoulder, keeping you facing forward. “Hold still, woman,” Sanemi barked, and the heat at your back disappeared for a moment as you felt him kneel behind you.

To your horror, you felt the outermost layer of your dress lift up and away from you as Sanemi rose, bringing the garment up over your head.

“I asked you to help me, you dog!” You squealed, your attempts to squirm away from the mannerless huntsman at your back futile. “Not strip me bare to do with as you please!”

Behind you, Sanemi gave a great snort. “Helpin’ you is exactly what I’m doing, if you’d shut up for one second.”

Left in nothing but your thin, cotton shift, you silently wondered whether you should’ve taken your chances and continued your trek through the Wood. Surely, being eaten by one of the Netherwood’s more nefarious creatures of horror was preferable to being stripped nude by a half-wild brute in his isolated cabin.

Your musings were cut short, however, as a firm hand wrapped around your forearm and tugged you towards the back of the cabin, where a small doorway closed off the hut’s only other room.

Sanemi kicked the door open revealing a surprisingly large bed, draped in blankets made of the furs of several different animals.

“N-no —mmph!” Your protest was cut off by Sanemi’s free hand as it clamped over your mouth as he hissed at you to shush.

Over the sound of your thudding heart and hard breath as you planted against the huntsman’s palm, you heard the faint but unmistakable sound of male laughter and jeers, cruel and cold.

“They will be here any moment,” Sanemi said lowly, and he removed the hand from your mouth in favor of shoving you none too gently into the small bedroom. Before you could speak, the huntsman gripped you around the waist and tossed you effortlessly onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly against the soft plush.

“Get under the covers and lay face-down in the pillows. Let your hair cover you.”

Scrambling up against the headboard, you looked back to your savior or your villain — you’d not yet decided under which category he fell — but saw that he was already standing back in the doorway, jaw tense and his eyes trained on the front door of his cabin.

He glanced back to you only once. “And move that thing off to your shoulders. Make yourself appear as though you’re indecent.”

With that, the huntsman quickly shut the door to his bedroom, just as a fist pounded against the wood of the door outside.

You kicked your way under the many pelts adorning the bed, savoring their warmth against your chilled skin. Remembering Sanemi’s final warning, you tugged the sleeves of your shift off your shoulders, concealing it and the rest of your body below the soft fur blankets.

The front door of the cabin opened, and you buried your face into one of the pillows resting against the headboard, begging the comforting scent of forest pine and cedar to calm your raging pulse.

“How can I help you gentlemen this evening?” Sanemi called, and you almost laughed at how cordial he sounded, as though he hadn’t just cut your dress from you like a brute.

Any smile you had was immediately wiped from your face at the cold, steely voice which answered him. “We’re searching for a woman. She belongs to someone who is eager to get her back.”

You balled the pelts below you in your fists, teeth grinding. Of course, you’d never actually agreed to marrying Douma, and yet the beast felt entitled to claim ownership over you, as though you were no better than a piece of furniture.

Though, you supposed that wasn’t quite an accurate comparison. Furniture survived Douma; women did not.

“Is that so?” Sanemi’s hardened tone sent shivers down your spine, and you wondered whether his face matched the stony, scathing cadence of his voice. “Well unfortunately for you boys, it’s just me and the wife here. And you’ve interrupted us.”

“Our apologies,” the scout said, though it did not sound as though he was sorry at all. “But you won’t mind us taking a peak? Just t make sure you and your wife don’t have a visitor.”

Sanemi’s answering snarl was soft, but it did not conceal the deadly threat contained within. “Surely you understand why I cannot let a number of strange men into my home, while my wife is indisposed.”

You had to give him credit; Sanemi sounded every bit the dominating, over-protective husband he was pretending to be.

There was a beat before Sanemi sighed, his irritation almost convincing. “Make it quick. And do not enter the bedroom.”

There was a shuffle of feet, heavy and booted, that crossed the threshold of the cabin, and the hair on your skin rose at the charge of violence which filled the air. Breath caught in your throat, you buried your face deeper into the huntsman’s mattress and prayed his ruse would be successful.

The door to the bedroom banged open, startling you with a squeal as you ruched deeper below the pelts.

“I told you to stay out of the bedroom,” Sanemi’s voice almost sounded bored, but it was thankfully close. Your eyes slid closed as you willed your heart to slow its drumbeat against your sternum as the resulting silence hung thick in the air.

“Our apologies,” the apparent leader of Douma’s band of henchmen bit out, his tone acerbic, and his frustration evident. The bedroom door slammed shut once more, and the heavy footsteps quickly made their way back through the cabin and out the front door.

All remained silent in the huntsman’s cabin for several, long moments, and you did not dare to rise from the bed that had become your sanctuary.

After what felt like an eternity, the door to Sanemi’s sleeping chamber pushed open, the light from the main room of the cabin flooding in.

“They are gone,” the huntsman said simply. “It is safe for you to come back out.”

You turned over and rose from his bed, quickly tugging the sleeves of your thin shift back up over your bare shoulders, if not to preserve the last shred of your modesty that the huntsman before you hadn’t cut away.

You were startled by his appearance in the doorway. Though his eyes remained fixed on the wood floor of the cabin, you saw that the man before you was nearly as stripped as you were.

Somehow, in the few precious seconds between him throwing you onto his bed and Douma’s men barging through the cabin door, Sanemi had discarded his lined shirt, leaving everything from the waist-up bare. The only garment which remained on him were his deerskin breeches, and Sanemi had somehow undone its front laces, loosening their fit around his hips. Between the undone cords, you spied a thin trail of silver hair that begun just below his navel and disappeared below the seam of his pants.

It was admirable the dedication Sanemi had shown in perfecting your ruse. To the untrained eye, it truly looked as though Douma’s men had indeed interrupted a husband and his wife as they’d been engaged in acts you’d been told were reserved for the marital bed, the disheveled state of Sanemi’s breeches giving the distinct appearance of having been just barely tugged over naked hips.

The thought made your mouth run dry, and something hot flared in your belly.

Sanemi ignored your apparent ogling of him, as he produced his discarded tunic from the floor where he'd tossed it and shrugged it back over his head.

Wordlessly, he gathered the shredded remains of your corset and handed it to you, keeping his gaze averted to allow you to redress. You managed to pull on your outer skirts back over your shirt, but you fingered the torn strap of your corset.

“You ruined it,” you said, nose wrinkling as you punched it between your thumb and index finger. “I cannot lace it when you’ve torn the stays.”

Sanemi frowned, and if you hadn’t known better, you would have thought he looked slightly apologetic for the state of your outer-corset.

“Corset woes aside, we need to go now, if we are to have any chance of getting you to another village before your fiancé’s men catch up to us.” Sanemi grabbed the leather satchel he'd been packing before Douma's men had interrupted and began filling it once more.

You scowled. “He is not my fiancé,”

“Your keeper, then.” Sanemi amended. The Huntsman stalked back over to the armoire in his sitting room and wrenched the worn doors open, pulling out several pieces of cloth.

“Here,” he said gruffly, tossing you a balled wad of crimson wool. “As promised.”

You accepted the cloak with a small, uttered thanks, and fastened it quickly around your shoulders. The Huntsman then turned to dig through a small cabinet, returning before you with a small spool of sturdy, leather cord.

He held it out to you. “For your corset,” he said gruffly, his cheeks slightly pink. Feeling your own blush creep up your neck, you accepted the offering. Picking the torn garment up once more, you slid it over your shoulders and used Sanemi’s cords to lace the front together.

Truthfully, the finished product wasn’t half bad; the cord was long enough to cross all the way up to the top of the corset, with enough leftover to allow you to pull it and secure it in place around your bust. You tied off the cord with a pleased nod, before looking back to Sanemi in gratitude. Before you could properly thank him, the Huntsman thrust a small basket into your newly freed hand.

"Provisions. For the journey." He said by way of explanation, and you nodded, nestling the handle into the crook of your arm.

Without so much as a glance around the cabin, Sanemi wrenched the door open and allowed you to pass through the entryway first, pausing behind you only to tightly latch the door shut.

And the two of you set off into the Netherwood.

———

You were no time-keeper by any means, especially in a place like the Wood where daylight was hard enough to find; but it felt like hours had passed since you last spoke to the Huntsman, and the silence was pressing heavily upon you — especially the deeper you ventured into the dark of the Wood.

Though Sanemi had been walking ahead of you, you took it upon yourself to increase your pace, until you walked astride with him.

“How long have you been guiding others through the Netherwood?” You asked lightly, hoping that some — any — conversation you could have with the stoic woodsman would distract you from the odd growls and noises concealed within the forest’s shadows.

“A while.” Sanemi’s answer was as brisk as his pace, and you struggled to match it.

“Have you lived here your whole life, or are you from one of the villages nearby?” You pressed, scanning your memory as you tried to recall whether there had ever been a boy with white hair and a scarred face in your village.

“No.”

You waited for him to elaborate, but Sanemi offered no further explanation. You sighed and fell back behind him; if this was to be his attitude the entire journey, you were in for a long few days.

The pair of you had traveled for what felt like several more hours without a word before the silence began to irritate you. You sped up your pace until your stride matched the Huntsman’s, walking with him side by side.

“Why do you live alone in the Netherwood?” You twirled the basket around your hand as the pair of you walked, the nerves you’d felt upon first starting the journey through the Wood having long since abated, in no short part due to the presence of the Huntsman and his axe by your side.

Sanemi did not turn towards you, his eyes remaining fixed on the bramble ahead. “Why did you venture into the Wood alone?”

You groaned. “Is this how our entire journey is to go? Either you give me mono-syllable answers, or every time I ask a question, you avoid answering by responding with your own?”

“That depends, do you intend to keep asking me questions?”

You barely resisted the urge to whack the sullen Huntsman with your basket. “Unbelievable,” you grumbled. “Your time here in the Wood has turned you into a curmudgeonly hermit.”

Sanemi snorted. “You assume I wasn’t one to begin with.”

“I can’t imagine someone who helps travelers cross the Wood was always so churlish and miserable.” You shot back.

The Huntsman remained quiet for a moment, though his air did not carry the same cold standoffishness that you’d come to understand meant he was ignoring you. Rather, Sanemi seemed to be in thought.

“It has been nearly four years,” he said after a long while. “Since I began helping travelers cross the Wood.”

Your eyes widened. “Four years?” That was an awfully long time to risk one’s neck for the sake of strangers — some of whom, you realized, may not have been all that good.

Sanemi nodded and you whistled. “I’m sure you’ve seen many kinds of people attempting to traverse through the Wood.”

“There are only two types of travelers,” Sanemi disagreed. “Those who live to make it to my door, and those who do not. I try not to pry into the privacies of those who do manage to find me.” He cut his eyes at you, accusingly. “And usually, they aren’t so eager to pry into mine.”

You ignored the jab, though it bruised your ego more than you wanted to admit. “You don’t like people, yet you’ve crafted your entire existence around serving them.” You could not stop the amused edge in your words. “It is quite ironic, you have to admit.”

Sanemi refused to dignify you with a response, and so the first leg of your journey continued in relative silence.

The stifling quiet that extended between the Huntsman and you finally subsided once Sanemi announced you’d be stopping for the night and making camp. He’d been quick to notice your unease as you’d cast your eyes nervously around the shadowed trees of the Wood, assuring you that you all were in an area less-frequented by the various terrors that called the forest home.

“I will sit and keep watch,” Sanemi said as you’d curled up against the leaves of the forest floor, your red cloak pulled tight around your frame to block out the autumn night’s chill. “So try and sleep.”

“You are asking me to put a great deal of trust in you, Huntsman,” you said softly, but in truth, you did not feel nearly as afraid of him as you perhaps had earlier in the day.

He snorted, dismissively. “I’ve had you in my bed already, have I not? If I was going to harm you, girl, I would’ve already done so.”

Something tightened in his eyes as he dropped your gaze. “And I would never do such a thing to a woman.”

There was a quiet pain in his vow, such that you did not think his words were entirely meant for your ears. But they comforted you nonetheless, and so, still facing the handsome and mysterious Huntsman, you allowed yourself to relax enough to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

---

The journey was taking longer than Sanemi originally believed.

Three days into your travels with the Huntsman, and you’d barely reached the halfway point in the Wood. Though, that was not due to any fault of Sanemi’s; there’d been a few times when he’d stopped mid-stride, eyes narrowed on some unseen thing deep within the forest that you could not see, but concerned him enough to change course. When you asked, the Huntsman had only grumbled that he’d heard suspicious movement ahead, and that he knew whatever it was, it likely wasn’t human.

You didn’t bother to question his judgment. After all, it was Sanemi who was the expert in traversing through the Wood. You, however, had spent the better part of three days understanding how utterly helpless you were without him.

You hadn’t meant to stumble across it.

You’d only meant to go relieve yourself behind a tree — a simple evergreen, that had looked innocent and unassuming enough.

As you’d quickly learned, however, upon squatting near the tree’s base, it was anything but innocent. For no sooner had you moved to pull your skirts out of the way had you felt a spiny hand close around your forearm, its knife-sharp fingers digging into your flesh.

The withered, bony had was connected to a sinewy arm, covered in ridged, black skin that made up the panting, salivating bat-like creature that had managed to camouflage itself against the bark of the tree.

You’d taken one look at the rows of sharp, yellow teeth and screamed loud enough to startle the dead.

Loud enough to bring a certain Huntsman crashing through the brush, axe clutched tightly in hand, his eyes wild and bright.

“Duck,” he’d barked once, and somehow you’d managed to wrench yourself to the side of the devil as Sanemi’s weapon buried deep into the creature’s face, the beast releasing your arm and stumbling back with a pitiful gurgle before it dropped to the floor.

You’d hardly had the chance to collect yourself before the Huntsman was stomping over to you, yanking you up by your bicep and dragging you away from the nefarious little tree.

“A goddamned hidebehind,” he furiously spat. “Of all things to provoke, you choose a fucking hidebehind.”

Sanemi ignored your slight protests at being manhandled back to the path he’d identified as leading out of the Wood, too lost in his own raging assessment of you.

“How the devil a pretty little thing like you managed to make it to my door in one piece is the only thing that makes me consider there may be a higher power, given how foolishly reckless you act in the Woods where there’s no shortage of creatures that would want to devour you —“

The Huntsman continued his rant, but your ears only picked up on a single fragment of his ramblings.

“You think me pretty?” It was silly, yet the notion that the devilishly handsome Huntsman accompanying you found you worth looking at made something in your stomach flutter.

Sanemi shot you a withering glare. “You may think me a miserable recluse, girl, but even I have eyes.”

You didn’t know why, but the comment made you smile for the rest of the night, a curious warmth blooming in your chest.

----

You settled for the night among a small circle of trees. Sanemi had helped you shake down a bed of pine needles from a nearby tree, allowing the fragrant nettles to form a soft bed for you against the forest floor.

You watched him repeat the process to make his own bed, your eyes curious. "You seem to have a great deal of experience with this," you mused.

Sanemi produced a single apple from his pouch and sliced it in half with a small hunting knife he kept strapped to his hip. He tossed you one half before he stretched out on his pine needle bed, propping up one cheek on his fist as he faced you. "I s'ppose sleeping outdoors is something of a family trait."

That piqued your curiosity. Though Sanemi had not divulged any details of his personal life with you, you'd assumed he'd been a true loner in his cabin in the Wood.

“You speak as though you still have family,” You bit into your half of the fruit, chewing slowly as you thought. “Do you?”

Sanemi nodded. “No parents to speak of, but a younger brother — a few years younger than you. Still a boy, though in a man’s body.” He scowled. “The little brat has outgrown me.”

You smiled at the obvious fondness belying the irritation on his face. “A boy bigger than you? I find that hard to believe.”

Your gentle praise had the intended effect of making the Huntsman look slightly smug, before the same sour look passed his face. “He has grown slightly taller than I, and by all accounts is still growing. I have a feeling he will try and hold it over my head the next time I see him.”

You wondered if Sanemi’s younger brother would literally do so, and the thought made you smile.

“You said the next time you see him, but you’ve said you have no parents — where does he live, if not with you?”

Sanemi grimaced, chucking the last of his apple core behind his shoulders. He remained quiet for a long moment before answering.

“He lives with a friend; he can take better care of him than I can right now.”

Something about the Huntsman’s tone made it clear the topic was a sensitive subject for the young Huntsman, and so you elected not to press the matter further.

“And what of you?” Sanemi said gruffly, surprising you with his willingness to engage in conversation as the two of you continued your trek. “I know you said you had a Grandmother, as she was the one to give you that.”

He nodded pointedly at your cloak, and you saw that curious heat enter his eyes once more at they combed over the scarlet wool draped around your frame. But the mention of your grandmother caused a lump to form in your throat that took you several moments to work around, the damning prickle of tears stinging your eyes.

“I do,” you said hoarsely after a moment. “Though I do not know if she survived after helping me escape Douma. Even if she did, I know I shall never see her again.”

Though your vision had become blurred by your tears, you could have sworn you saw Sanemi’s hand twitched towards you at the sound of the wobble in your voice.

“Douma,” he repeated. “Is that the person you’re fleeing from?”

You nodded, exhaling a shaky sigh. “He claims to be my fiancé but I accepted no such proposal.”

Sanemi leaned against the wood of a tree opposite from you, arms folding across his chest. “Then he does not know what it means to be a fiancé,”

You gave a watery chuckle. “No, I suppose he does not.” You chewed on your lip for a moment. “But Douma does not ask; he demands and he expects. His offer was not really a request for my hand — it was a warning that he would collect me to do with as he pleased.”

Sanemi tensed. “What do you mean by that?”

You combed your fingers through the tangled tresses of your hair, and anxious habit you’d had for as long as you could remember. “In the last three years, Douma has taken four young women from the village to be his wife; every one of them has since disappeared.”

The Huntsman sucked in a shocked breath. “What has happened to them? Has anyone searched?”

You smiled ruefully. “I do not know; no one does. Search parties were dispensed each time, but those who looked came back empty-handed.” Your eyes remained fixed on the small, flickering flame of the campfire. “He claimed the first three ran away into the Wood; said they’d left him to be with a lover.”

You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, seeking comfort in your grandmother’s cloak. “Quite the coincidence, is it not?”

“Quite nefarious,” Sanemi remarked darkly, shaking his head. “And what of the fourth wife?”

Your head dropped. “My dear friend, Kotoha,” you felt the tears begin to gather in your eyes once more. “She was pregnant when Douma demanded her hand, but he did not appear to care. She gave birth a few months later — a beautiful baby boy named Inosuke.”

“She seemed happy for a while after that, and I thought perhaps Douma had been telling the truth; by all accounts, he was kind towards her,” you continued, fighting the shiver trying to lick its way up your spine. “But then Kotoha disappeared, and Inosuke, too.”

Sanemi stiffened at that. “When was this?” He asked suddenly, his tone urgent.

You looked up at him, startled. “Just a week before I found you.”

Sanemi swore lowly, his hand dragging over his face. At your questioning look, he continued.

“A few days before we met, I was leaving to check on a series of caves that I frequent in the east,” he began. “I was half a kilometer from your village when I —,” he hesitated. “Spotted a few men, dragging something through the trees. They seemed to come from your village.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Did you see —?” Your question choked off as your voice cracked.

Sanemi shook his head. “All that was left was a pile of bones. Just one person’s. But there were shreds of cloths mixed in,” Sanemi’s mouth twisted down in a snarl. “Clothes belonging to a young child. But no sign of their bones among the adult’s.”

A cold, clammy sweat broke out across your forehead. “But Kotoha was hardly missing a week — surely that’s not enough time for her to be reduced to bones?”

Sanemi opened his mouth but closed it before he spoke, his eyebrows knitting together as he struggled for words.

“I have seen things in the Wood that are capable of stripping flesh in a matter of minutes,” he said carefully, eyes trained on your face. “It would not be unheard of.”

You felt the blood drain from your face as nausea wracked through you. “Oh gods,” you moaned, arms shakily coming to rest upon your knees to brace your head as it fell into your hands. “Oh gods — Kotoha.”

You remained like that for several moments, viciously fighting against the roiling of your stomach, desperate to keep down what meager rations you’d managed to eat.

Sanemi called your name, soft and gentle. You waited a moment, focusing on taking several, steadying breaths before you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

“So that is to be my fate once he catches me,” you whispered in horror. “To be reduced to nothing more than a pile of bones and tossed into the Wood like garbage.” You shuddered as another wave of nauseous dread sluiced through you. “And I cannot even fathom what will be done to me before then.”

“It will not,” Sanemi’s answering snarl was soft but vicious, and it broke through the cold terror threatening to knock you off your axis. “I will get you out of this forest and you will be free. Mark my words.”

“Do not make promises you cannot keep, Sanemi.” You warned, your eyes still wide, haunted. “If he catches me, he will do worse to you; death will be a kindness he will withhold.”

Despite the solemnity of your words, Sanemi only scoffed. “I assure you, he would do no such thing.” He looked to you, eyes serious. “And I would kill him before he had the chance to so much as look your direction.”

You wanted to dismiss his words as nothing more than the bragging of an overconfident, idiotic man. But something in both Sanemi’s tone and the way he was leaning against the tree — one foot resting causally against the bark, the other stretched out before him, supporting his weight, with his arms folded across his chest — made you think perhaps Sanemi’s confidence was more than mere bravado.

Even though you knew you shouldn't, you took comfort in it; in him.

"You're a good man, Sanemi," you said quietly. "Better than most."

Sanemi scoffed, shaking his head, but the shadow over his face betrayed his own internal turmoil. "I am not half the man you'd like me to be."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, head tilting in question. “Do you care what I think of you?” When the Huntsman did not answer, you pressed. “You worry that I think ill of you — why?”

Sanemi, at best, was confusing. Maddening. He spoke to you gruffly, as though his years in the Wood had made him forget all semblance of decorum and basic human decency.

Yet, there was something else, too; though you hadn’t much experience being desired by men, Sanemi had shown you a particular level of care. He always handed you your dried rations first, ensuring you’d eat your fill before he; he always offered a hand to help you over a particularly tricky stretch of terrain, carrying your basket for you without so much as you having to ask.

Then, there’d been the way he’d cradled you close earlier in the day, when you stumbled upon the poor man whose body had been mangled and half-eaten by one of the Wood’s inhabitants. He hadn’t needed to tuck your head against his chest like he did, holding you tight as he spun the two of you out of range, to avoid joining the lost soul whose entrails were strewn across the forest floor; he hadn’t needed to comfort you and wipe your frightened tears.

But he had.

The realization hit you like a boulder. “You feel protective of me,” you murmured in awe, your eyes locked onto him even as he shifted under the weight of your stare.

Sanemi tried to scowl, but it came off as more a wince. “I feel protective towards any woman who is being treated as something to abuse. What your fake-fiancé has done is abhorrent.”

His voice quieted. “You do not deserve that fate. You deserve to find something good — something that will make you happy.”

You hummed, pretending you were in thought as you began to slowly close the distance between you. “I would like to be happy,” you conceded.

“You should be,” Sanemi answered.

“I have felt happy here in the Wood,” you continued. “Have you, Huntsman? Felt happy here in the Netherwood, I mean?”

Sanemi swallowed hard. “Perhaps.”

You took another step. “Recently?”

“Recent enough,” Sanemi watched you warily, his voice like gravel.

You clicked your tongue. “Have you enjoyed our time together? However brief?”

At this, Sanemi rolled his eyes. “You have certainly kept things interesting, when you’re not desperately trying to become a meal for some hungry beast.”

When you did not answer, Sanemi looked nervously back to you, and his voice softened. “Yes. I have enjoyed it.”

You felt like you were stripping him back, peeling back layers of sarcasm and steel that he’d carefully erected to keep himself from getting close — from caring.

But you were doing it; and he was letting you.

“And you think I’m pretty,” you added, taking another step towards him.

“Aye,” Sanemi croaked, his eyes fixed on your face, the the flicker of the small fire only adding to the heat blazing in his lilac gaze.

You drew up before him, the toes of your boots just touching his. “I find you quite pretty as well, Huntsman.”

Sanemi’s eyes closed, his shoulders tense. “I am to deliver you safely to the nearest village.” Lilac irises opened to meet yours and he looked at you gently; apologetically. “We cannot do this.”

You did not balk. “And if I wanted to stay with you?” You whispered, fingers coming to toy with the folds of his tunic. “What would you say then?”

Sanemi breathed out a soft sigh of your name, the syllables dripping like honey from his lips. “It is not possible, I’m afraid.”

You looked up at him through lowered eyelashes and noted how his gaze flicked down to your lips before back to your eyes. “Why?”

Sanemi’s hand gently brushed a few loose strands of hair back from your face, tucking them behind your ear, and you leaned into the warmth of his touch. “Because you are a beautiful, little lamb, and I am a wolf in a forest of beasts. You do not wish to spend your days here, in the darkness.”

“You cannot speak to what I want,” you challenged, your fingers rising to clench around his wrist, to hold his hand in place against the side of your head. “My life is my own now; I have no set path.”

“But I would like to travel down yours,” you added quietly, after a moment.

“It is not one open to transients,” Sanemi warned, though his other hand rose to rest against the dip in your waist, holding you against him.

You only shook your head. “I do not intend to be temporary, Sanemi. I wish to stay with you. I wish to help others as you have helped me.”

“I’ve yet to help you,” Sanemi said wryly. “Our bargain was that I deliver you to one of the villages on the other side of the Wood. We are still making that journey.”

You stretched up on your toes and boldly pressed your lips against the hollow of his throat, savoring the skipping pace of his heart beneath your mouth.

“A new bargain, then,” you offered. Sanemi said your name once, as though in warning, but when he did not levy any threat, you only continued, moving your lips up under his jaw.

“You get me to the other side of the Wood. If I still want to stay with you, then you will let me. If I don’t, we will part ways at the first village we come to.”

You’d kissed your way to his lips, but held back, allowing that final line to remain in place between you even as your resolve wavered against the force of your desire for him — for this Huntsman of the Netherwood.

Sanemi’s eyes fell to your lips, hovering so very closely to his own. “You assume I want you to stay,” he murmured, though he made no move to push you away. “You assume I want to look after a lamb forever.”

You smiled softly. “Even a lamb can help take care of a wolf.”

Sanemi’s eyes were full of a wariness edged by the faintest trace of hope. “Aye, I suppose that’s true.” The hand against the side of your head fell to caress your cheek. “And as infuriating as I find you to be,” he leaned in close, his lips just barely touching yours. “I do think you quite beautiful, little Lamb.”

You surged forward with a breathy gasp, lips feverishly meeting his as you begged the Huntsman to consume you whole.

Sanemi responded with equal fervor, his arm locking tightly around your waist as the hand against your face tilted your head slightly to the right, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

You’d shared a few stolen kisses here and there in your youth with some of the village boys, but never before had you been kissed like this. Never before had you known the passion and all-consuming vigor that the Huntsman poured into you, as he walked the two of you back over roots and loose stones to press you against the roughened bark of a nearby tree.

No, those kisses had been child’s play. For the way Sanemi’s mouth moved against yours was enough to make you feel as though you’d been dipped in lantern oil and set aflame, and yet you could not find it within yourself to care that you were burning. Not when he molded you against the rigid planes of his body as though to absorb you into his being; not when his thigh slotted between yours, its muscle brushing against a sensitive spot between your legs that had you gasping and Sanemi groaning into your mouth.

As quickly as it began, it ended, Sanemi breaking away from your lips with a strangled pant as he leapt back, as though scalded by the inferno he’d lit within you.

There was something untamed in his gaze as he regarded you, his breath choppy as he collected himself. Still stunned by the ferocity with which he’d kissed you, your fingers jumped to your lips, noting the slight swelling now there.

“I was wrong about you,” Sanemi said breathlessly, his cheeks tinged an alluring shade of pink. “You may not be a lamb after all.”

Your fingers dropped from your lips as you raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I am a wolf?”

Sanemi shook his head, that wildness still blazing in his eyes. “No, not a wolf.” His voice dropped to a purr as he regarded you with a look that made your thighs clench. “You are temptation given physical form.”

——-

Neither of you spoke of what transpired against the tree for several hours, though you’d managed to brush aside any lingering awkwardness with light conversation about Sanemi’s time in the Netherwood.

And, despite any lingering doubt as to the sincerity of your words he may have had, Sanemi seemed to naturally gravitate towards you, his hands never straying far from your form as you walked.

Truthfully, it made you giddy. You’d never experienced the thrill of another man’s touch while in the village, though Kotoha certainly hadn’t spared you any details. Vivid descriptions furtively whispered behind hands, however, were nothing compared to reality. Even Kotoha’s most blush-inducing tales paled in comparison to the electric flash you felt each time Sanemi’s warm hand gripped yours to steer you back from a particularly darkened corner of the woods, or the flutter in your stomach when he lifted you easily up and over unsteady ground, his hands always lingering for a spare second on your waist or the small of your back as you settled.

It became harder to imagine leaving him once you reached the end of the Wood. With each passing hour, your conviction that you would remain alongside the mysterious Huntsman grew all the stronger.

The pair of you were resting near a blackberry bush, you perched on a small boulder while Sanemi sharpened his axe, his hand running the small whetting stone against the curve of the blade with precision.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question broke the comfortable silence before you could think better of it.

Sanemi’s sharpening stone paused briefly before continuing along the curve of his axe. “Once,” he said, gruffly. “Though we were so young, I don’t know if you could properly call it that.”

You sat up, your curiosity piqued. “Where are they now?”

The Huntsman hesitated. “She is long-gone. Died here, in the Wood.”

Your heart clenched. “I’m sorry. I cannot imagine that grief.”

Sanemi did not respond, instead refocusing his attention back to his blade. “It was around four years ago, now.”

Four years ago. Around the time Sanemi had begun escorting lost souls through the Netherwood.

“Have you been in the Wood since?” You asked gently, trying to focus on a loose thread handing from your cloak so that he would not feel pressured by your stare.

Sanemi nodded. “I think,” he cleared his throat. “I think I started helping others as a way to honor her. She was kind that way.”

You smiled at that. “She sounds wonderful; and you do right by her memory.”

The Huntsman said nothing more, his silence more contemplative as he finished sharpening his weapon.

By the time the pair of you set back off on your path through the Wood, the morning fog had somewhat subsided, though it’s mist lingered in the denser sections of the forest.

“Is it normal to not have encountered many of the Wood’s creatures?” You bit down on the shudder you felt at the memory of the partially-eaten corpse you’d encountered a few days prior. “I feel as though we only see the aftermath of the beasts, rather than the monsters themselves.”

Sanemi smirked quietly to himself, though you did not know what he found amusing about your question. “I suppose that cloak is keeping them at bay, Lamb.”

You rolled your eyes, knocking your shoulder playfully against his. “Perhaps they’re frightened of the big bad Huntsman,”

“Perhaps. I’m quite scary.”

Your hand found his. “Not at all. In fact, I find you quite —“

Your thought was cut off, however, as Sanemi tore his hand from yours to hold an arm out before you, stilling you. You’d traveled with the Huntsman long enough to know he was telling you to be quiet while he listened, his ears far more discerning amidst the silent noise of the forest than yours.

Only it was not silent; in the distance, you could hear raised voices, yelling, and the distinct howls of several hounds.

Your eyes found Sanemi’s, and you were certain yours were as wide as his, as your heart began to thunder against your chest.

There was a strange melodic chant rising above the cluster of voices some distance through the trees, and you both turned back and strained to listen.

As the jeering voices and barking of dogs drew nearer, it became clearer what was being said — what thing those voices were loudly whooping and mocking amidst the excited titter undercutting their bloodlust.

Your name.

Douma’s men had picked up your trail, and they’d caught up.

“Run.” Sanemi ordered, tearing the leather satchel from his shoulders and looping the strap around yours. “Do you remember which direction north is?”

Eyes wide and limbs trembling, you nodded, your breath hitched in your throat as every instinct within you was overtaken by sheer terror. Sanemi placed his hands on your shoulders, squeezing firmly to get your attention back on him.

“Run north,” he repeated. “Follow the river and do not stop. It is against the wind, so it should be harder to track your scent,” Sanemi’s eyes darted up over your shoulder, narrowing as the unseen force drew nearer. “I will catch up to you. Do not drop that satchel.”

Your mouth opened and closed several times as you gaped at him, fear, so deep and primal, engrained in your every nerve as you realized he intended to send you deeper into the Netherwood. Alone.

“I cannot — Sanemi,” you begged, your hand gripping his forearm in a desperate attempt to stay close to him, your protector.

Gently, Sanemi removed your hand from him. “Y/N, I promise I will find you soon. I need to get them,” he jerkily nodded backwards to the voices and dog howls drawing closer and closer to you in the distance. “Off our trail.

You shook your head, only trembling harder. To separate surely would mean one, if not both of you would die, and you could not bear to leave him to deal with the onslaught of Douma’s men alone.

“I promise,” you’d not realized Sanemi’s hands had cupped your face until you felt the press of his forehead against yours. “I will find you. Now go.” He urged, and with a slight shove, Sanemi sent you stumbling in the direction you assumed was North.

With a great deal of reluctance, your legs began to move as you hurried over fallen branches and twisted roots, every pump of your legs growing stronger as your fear intensified.

You hadn’t known how many men were in pursuit of you, and you’d left Sanemi alone with only an axe to protect himself.

You’d as good as doomed him.

But you kept running in the direction you thought was north, eyes frantically trying to track the watery sunlight filtering through the trees.

The moment you’d chances scanning for the sun meant you did not see the thick, twisting root that had broken across the forest floor, not until your foot became entangled and you were sent sprawling across the dirt.

Moaning slightly, you scrambled up, refusing to acknowledge the faint bruising pain you felt in your ankle as you moved to keep running.

A snap of a tree branch froze you in your tracks. As stupid as you were, you turned towards the source of the sound, dread coiling in your gut. A shadow emerged from behind one of the ancient trees of the Wood, clutching something shiny.

A sword; long, wicked and cruelly sharp, and yet somehow, the blade frightened you far less than its wielder, for his face was familiar.

You’d grown up alongside it, after all.

“Well, well,” the boy — man — cooed at you. “We’ve been looking for you for quite sometime, you know?”

You took a step back, eager to put whatever distance you could between yourself and the smirking village boy who looked at you like you were his next meal.

“K-Kaigaku,” you stuttered in disbelief. “What are you doing? We were — we were friends.”

The boy’s laugh made your blood curdle. “Don’t mock me,” he shifted his sword to rest against his other shoulder as his free hand twirled a small dagger. “I only align myself with the strong, and you are nothing but a weak and pathetic little mouse.”

“But Lord Douma,” Kaigaku mused, his grin offset by the malice alighting his eyes. “Lord Douma is strong; powerful. I am loyal to him, not you.”

“Lord Douma?” You repeated, your voice as sharp as the blade glinting in the faint daylight as the boy before you tilted it back and forth. “Is that what he’s told you to call him? What, pray tell, is he lord of — being an egomaniacal, fatuous, greedy murderer?”

Kaigaku’s smirk unfurled into an ugly sneer as he shifted to point his sword at you. “Watch your mouth, girl.”

“And what of Kotoha?” You demanded, your anger an untamable fire that burned in your veins. “You were sweet on her once — did she deserve her fate?”

There was no sign of that fondness in the cruelty which lined Kaigaku’s face as he spat, “She spread her legs for some man like a whore and bore his bastard. Lord Douma only made sure she met an end befitting of her filth.”

“You vile, wretched creature,” you swore. “Damn you! Damn him!”

That hair-raising smirk reappeared as Kaigaku stepped towards you. “I cannot wait to see what Lord Douma has planned for you. You should’ve seen what he did to your beloved Granny, the hag.”

Your blood turned cold and a stone like lead settled in the pit of your stomach. You’d assumed, of course, that your grandmother had paid with her life in helping you escape, but you could not bear to hear the ways she’d suffered in exchange for your life.

Somewhere, in the depths of the Netherwood, a wolf howled.

“Shall I tell you all about it, Y/N?” Kaigaku taunted. “Shall I tell you how your dear Granny screamed as Lord Douma flayed her alive, piece by piece? How she sobbed for your grandfather? For you?”

Tears burned, as hot as acid in your eyes as you shook. “Stop,”

“It was quite pathetic, really,” Kaigaku sighed. “She went rather quickly. I suppose that’s what happens when you play with old crones — their pathetic little hearts can’t withstand the fun.”

You were at a loss; part of you wanted to lunge for the boy, to sink your nails into his eyes and rip, to tear him limb from limb as you screamed with rage until even the beasts of the Netherwood could not tell whether you were human or kin.

But on the other hand, you were just a woman, who’d spent the last five days in the Netherwood and didn’t have so much as a dagger with which to defend yourself.

And Sanemi told you to run.

You remembered as a boy, Kaigaku had been slow; always the last person to finish a race or outrun the seeker in hide and seek.

You, on the other hand, had always been faster; you could outrun him.

You had to. You would.

There was a roaring in your head as your mind disconnected from your body and you turned to flee.

“Don’t you run from me, bitch!” Kaigaku thundered after you, but you did not slow; you hurtled over root and rubble, adrenaline pumping hot and fast to your legs as you ran.

You’d thought, for one blissful moment, that perhaps you had a chance of evading him, when a silent whirring cut through the silent forest air.

Pain, blinding pain, exploded somewhere from the side of your thigh, bringing you to your knees as you cried out. Rolling over, your stomach dropped at the unmistakable sensation of blood dripping down your leg, hot and fast.

Behind you, you heard the thud of Kaigaku’s knife cluttering to the forest floor.

“Hn, I missed,” the boy scoffed, eyes roaming over you as you bled. “No matter, you can’t run on a wounded leg, can you little girl?”

Ignoring the dizzying lash of pain that flared in your leg, you scrambled backwards in a crawl, desperate to put some — any — distance between you and your captor.

“Lord Douma only said to bring you back alive,” Kaigaku hummed, drawing his sword once more. “He did not say to bring you back unscathed.”

Kaigaku put the tip of his blade right at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. You glared defiantly up at him, though your show of courage was a mere facade as you beheld the salacious glint reflected in his beady eyes.

“I think I shall take my time with you,” Kaigaku decided, using his blade to tilt your head back and forth. “After all there is no one here who shall care if you scream; in fact, I prefer you do.”

Your eyes widened, what remaining fight you still had wavering.

Alone. You were completely and utterly alone.

Sanemi had not come; either he was still fighting the other men sent by your cursed fiancé, or he’d been slain, and now the others were making their way to you, to take you back to Douma and let him do as he pleased.

You were going to die; but you would not die by his hands. Your eyes lowered to the blade still pressed under your chin, its tip grazing against the delicate skin of your throat, teasingly.

Kaigaku’s blade was sharp, even if it’s wielder not; it would not take much effort to slit your own throat on its edge, and it would take even less to bleed out upon the Netherwood’s earthen floor.

Before you could move, however, Kaigaku’s sword lowered, its tip teasingly tracing along the front seams of your dress.

“Perhaps we could make this interesting,” Kaigaku smirked, tracing up the valley between your breasts. “He said only to ensure you were untainted for him; he did not say we couldn’t have a taste.”

Your stomach churned with a toxic mixture of both rage and dread as the sword cut through the first stitch of your bodice. You tried to gather your feet beneath you, enough so that you could launch yourself forward and impale yourself on his blade, when a low growl sounded from behind your assailant.

Kaigaku, too enthralled by his slow torture of you, did not see the mass of white fur and bloodstained teeth leap from the shadows of the Wood; not until it was too late.

You looked on in horror as a large beast lunged for the boy from your village, tackling him to the side, his sword arm severed at his shoulder from a single swipe of the monster’s mighty claw. Kaigaku only had time to scream once before the nightmare’s massive maw clamped around his neck and tore, spraying his blood and bits of gore across the forest floor.

Your breath caught and died in your throat, helpless from where you were still splayed pathetically across the dirt as you watched the animal paint the Netherwood with remnants of Kaigaku.

The monster turned on its haunches towards you, its maw dripping with blood and bits of sinew and flesh, its lip curled back in a snarl. You whimpered as the creature’s silver-lilac eyes settled on you, every inch trembling in abject terror.

Though overcome by your fear, your brain was able to put together the sight before you that was sure to be your last. The beast slowly advancing towards you was a wolf, though it was much larger than any wolf you’d ever seen, and its brawn rivaled that of an ox’s.

The wolf boasted a thick coating of silvery-white fur that seemed to glow, as though it bore the essence of a full moon, though its brilliance was dampened somewhat by the smears of crimson saturating it. Under the dim light of the forest, you could not tell whether the blood was that of the wolf or another.

One colossal paw stepped hesitantly toward you again, and you felt yourself nearly go faint. Weakly, you tried to scramble back further into the wood, but your left leg had gone slightly numb from its wound, and the blood loss was starting to make you feel dizzy.

It seemed the Netherwood had answered your silent plea to not be sent back to be killed by Douma; instead, you would serve as the next meal for one of its monstrous residents.

The wolf drew short of you and watched you closely for a moment. With a great shudder, the wolf began to tremble and shake, and your horror melted into wide-eyed disbelief as you watched the wolf shrink and contort until all that was left was a man, blood-stained, naked, and panting on his hands and knees, fingers dug deeply into the dirt below. The man convulsed as began heaving up bile stained with blood and gore.

The sight of scarred forearms and snowy-white hair broke you out into a cold sweat.

“S-Sanemi?” You croaked, equal parts relieved and terrified, even if another part of you desperately hoped that you were simply hallucinating the image of the nude man wretching up blood before you.

“Aye,” Sanemi grit out between great, shuddering breaths as he spat one final time at the dirt. “It is me.”

He rose, bloodied and naked, from the forest floor and looked to you, his eyes back to their familiar, lavender hue, though they still retained an otherworldly glow.

There was a loud ringing in your ears as you stared at him, though you weren’t sure if it was from your panic or your blood loss. Sanemi took a cautious step towards you and it sent you scurrying back, a whimper of fright building in your throat.

He faltered, something like pain crossing his face. “Perhaps you should be afraid,” he said quietly. “And you can be — but I need you to throw me that satchel.”

It took you a moment to recollect yourself long enough to register what he was asking. With shaky hands, you unlatched the leather bag from your shoulders and weakly tossed it towards the Huntsman.

Sanemi was quiet as he dug through the bag, producing a fresh pair of breeches and a clean tunic. With a deftness that seemed as supernatural as his wolf form, Sanemi dressed, concealing his muscular, scarred form from sight once more.

He said your name once, quietly. “Are you alright?”

You trembled, hand clutching weakly at the front clasp of your cape. “He killed my grandmother,” you whispered. “H-he tortured her.”

Sanemi approached you slowly, and when you did not flinch away from him once more, he knelt down beside you. His hand came up to gently stroke your hair, and the touch startled you out of your trance, blinking back fat tears as you looked up at him.

“We need to go,” he said gently and you closed your eyes, nodding.

You’d known, of course, that your Grandmother had been killed; made peace with it, even. But you had not foreseen that she would be tortured for trying to secure your freedom, and the very thought made something inside your heart wither and die.

“I know,” you murmured quietly. Sanemi straightened, extending a hand to you to help you up when your fingers closed around his wrist, your eyes urgent.

“Did you kill them?”

Sanemi grimaced. “Yes, Lamb. I killed them all.”

You nodded. “Good.” You released his wrist and slid your hand into his. “Good.”

Your shock had dulled the sharp, burning throb in your leg while you’d processed the fact that Sanemi was not a mere huntsman, but a wolf of the Wood. But now that the shock had worn off, the pain slammed back into you with full force as you tried to stand, your leg collapsing uselessly under you as you cried out.

Sanemi’s nostrils flared and there was a murderous glint in his eyes as he crouched down beside you, eyes locked onto your left side, fingers clenching around the torn folds of your dress and lifting it up.

“S-Sanemi!” You squeaked, batting his hand away but no to avail. The huntsman — the wolf — managed to pull back the skirts of your dress to reveal the torn flesh of your thigh.

“Was it him?” Sanemi’s voice was low, his head jerking back over his shoulder in the vague direction where he’d left Kaigaku in pieces.

You nodded, eyes wide as you watched him inspect the wound. “A knife. He threw it.”

The huntsman exhaled harshly through his nose. “We’re too vulnerable in the open like this — especially because you’re bleeding.”

Sanemi sat back on his haunches and pulled his small hunting knife from the leather satchel strewn on the ground. Silently, he leaned forward and wound some of the bottom fabric of your dress around the blade and wrenched, tearing a sizeable scrap cloth from the skirt in one clean stroke.

Sanemi then reached under your skirt and tugged the shorter end of your linen shift down. “It’s not ideal but it’s cleaner than your outer skirt,” he said by way of explanation at your raised eyebrows and hitched breath. “It’ll do until I can get you somewhere safer. We’re sitting ducks out here. Your scent is bound to attract something.”

You nodded, gulping. Words were still far too difficult to come by, so you settled for watching your handsome guide as he worked, mouth set in a firm, hard line.

Sanemi tore another strip of linen from your shift and laid it delicately over his knee. His eyes flicked to yours, once, and you felt slightly ashamed at the way your breath hitched, as though waiting for those lilac irises to bleed silver once more.

“May I?” His hands were stilled above the exposed flesh of your shin, and you knew he’d need to lift more to bandage your thigh. You nodded after a moment, though your hesitation did not stem from any fear you held for the scarred man delicately sliding his hands up the length of your wounded leg; rather, the heat that crept up your neck came from the way goose flesh erupted over the skin beneath his roughened yet gentle touch.

Sanemi’s fingers were steady as he gently guided your leg to the side, rotating it in his palm so that the gash was perpendicular to the forest floor.

At the sight of your bloodied, torn flesh, Sanemi growled. “I should’ve made the little bastard suffer far more.” He said darkly, reaching into his satchel to pull a small skien of water to clean off the wound as much as possible.

At the first splash of water against your ragged skin, you flinched, hissing through clenched teeth as the cold fluid chased away the spare bit of blood. For a moment, you could see that the cut left behind the blade was deeper than you’d thought, though not so much so that it required more than a good bandaging and perhaps some stitching.

At least it had not been entirely flayed open.

The hand Sanemi had braced on your knee to keep your leg steady rubbed soothingly at your skin as he repeated the motion once more, letting the water cleanse the wound once more. “Atta girl,” he praised softly. “It’s done. I just need to wrap it.”

It amazed you that such a hardened, rough Huntsman — Wolf — had such a gentle touch. His hands were like feathers as he wound the clean strip of linen around your thigh, the only pressure stemming from the knot he’d fastened to keep it secure around your leg. Sanemi then wrapped the other torn fabric from your outer skirt around the makeshift bandage, knotting it in a similar fashion to the one beneath.

“To keep the one below from becoming dirty,” he offered plainly at your raised eyebrow. “Can you stand?”

Now that the adrenaline of yojr earlier encounter had worn off, the throb in your leg had become all the more pronounced. Teeth clenched, you gripped the Huntsman’s hands tightly as you rose from your seat on the tree stump, eyebrows furrowed in determination. Sanemi did not remove his hands from you, but kept them out and ready as you tentatively shifted your weight to test your wounded leg.

It was no good; the pain shot through you like an arrow and nearly buckled the knee on your good leg. With a cry of frustration, you stumbled back against Sanemi, the Huntsman’s arm looping easily around your waist to help lower you back down against the stump upon which he’s sat you.

“Damn it all,” you cursed, wincing at the angry throb in your leg. “It cannot bear weight.”

Sanemi pursed his lips as he looked over you, considering. “Allow me,” he said after a moment, squatting down next to you, motioning for you to wrap your arm around his shoulders.

You hesitated; you were not scared of the Huntsman, even after witnessing his terrifying true form, but your apprehension lingered, a primal fear baked deep within your core that told you you should be scared of the predator beside you. That, mixed with your blood loss, made you pause, even though you’re traveled alongside the fearless Huntsman for nearly a week.

And Sanemi noticed.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his arm locked steadily around your waist as he lifted you to your feet, your weight pressed against his chest.

You did not trust your words so you only nodded. Despite the remaining wariness you felt, you longed for his comfort more. You lifted your hand to cup the side of his jaw so you could tilt his face down, bringing his forehead against yours.

Sanemi whispered your name and your eyes lifted up to meet the smoldering heat of his gaze.

A knuckle brushed against the curve of your cheek. “Are you frightened of me now, little Lamb?”

Your fingers gripped the collar of his tunic, a desperation wracking through you at the thought he might pull away and remove the steadying warmth of his arms from around your frame.

“No. It is not you that frightens me; it is him.”

The arm around your waist tightened. “He will not get to you; I swear it. I will not allow him to lay a finger on you.”

Your breath shuddered and your eyes squeezed tight. You felt the discomforting press of panic building in your lungs, threatening to choke the air from your throat until a warm finger curled under your chin, followed only by a rugged whisper of your name.

You opened your eyes and there he was; the only person left alive who you could count on; who had proven, time and again, that your welfare mattered to him. Who treated you like you meant something.

You craved that feeling — craved him.

“Kiss me, Sanemi.” You murmured, your lips separated by a breath. “Please.”

Sanemi did not hesitate as he gently brought his lips against yours, the hand under your chin moving to cup the back of your head, holding you steady against him like he was the only real, solid thing in the world.

Your hands, no longer shaking, unclenched from where they’d been locked around the collar of his tunic and slid behind his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

Sanemi sighed against your lips, allowing himself to get lost in the way they moved against his, just as you did. Against the solid rock of his body and under the spell of his soft mouth, it was easy to allow yourself to forget the danger that threatened to creep in from the shadows.

Lost in your kiss, you made the mistake of trying to shift your weight from your good leg to the bad, causing both knees to buckle. At your small whimper of pain, Sanemi broke away.

“You’re too injured to walk,” He murmured against your lips. “So I shall carry you.”

He broke away with a final peck, stepping back and reaching behind him to haul his tunic over his head. “Unless you would like to see all of me, little Lamb,” Sanemi’s smirk was devilish. “Then I suggest you close your eyes for a moment.”

The heat his words sparked in your veins dulled the throb of your wounded leg. “And if I desire to see you?”

Sanemi only shrugged. “Then I suppose I shall have to put on a show.”

The huntsman held your eyes as his hands went to the hastily tied laces of his breeches, tugging the strings open with ease.

You fidgeted against the broken stump he’d perched you on, just as Sanemi shrugged down the soft suede of his breeches, revealing that damnable v-line that made your head spin. A few more inches lower, and there was his manhood, hanging thick and heavy between his muscular and scar-speckled thighs.

He was a sight to behold.

“Is this your first time seeing a man, Lamb?” Sanemi’s voice broke you out of the reverent trance you’d been in whilst admiring every rocky plane of his body.

Your mouth had turned dryer than a summer drought, and so you only nodded your head, unable to tear your eyes from the immaculate form that made up the huntsman of the Netherwood.

To your dismay, Sanemi stepped back from where you sat, again and again until he was several lengths back. You opened your mouth in protest, but he only shook his head.

“Don’t want you to be too close, my sweet.” He called from a distance.

You frowned. “Too close for what —“

Your question was cut off by a small scream as Sanemi leapt forward, that silver fur exploding forth from him as a large wolf landed only feet from where he’d once stood.

Now it was clear why he’d put such distance between you; had Sanemi been any closer when he shifted, one of those mighty claws embedded in his law — nearly as long as your hand — would have surely ripped you clean in half.

Your heart hammered in your chest as Sanemi’s wolf form drew closer. Now, without the weight of terror and the pressing conviction that you were about to die, you allowed yourself to fully appreciate the wolf before you.

His scars were still visible, though less so in contrast to his human form, his thick fur providing a fair degree of cover. In this form, you could see that were you to stand, your head would barely reach his shoulder.

Sanemi grunted as he crouched out, the puff of air from his considerable snout warming over your legs. He looked up at you expectantly, an amused twinkle in his wolffish eyes.

You gaped at him. “You want me to ride you?”

Another amused chuff.

“And how, great and mighty wolf, do you suggest I climb onto your back with a half-severed leg?” You dramatized. “Shall I flop?”

You couldn’t be sure, but it seemed that the Wolf rolled his eyes. Sanemi pressed his large body against your good side, nudging you with his great shoulder to signal for you to grab his fur.

You took a handful of the silvery coat, surprised at its softness. “Do not bite me just because you think I pull too hard,” you warned, half serious, and Sanemi huffed in annoyance.

Using the wolf as leverage, you heaved yourself up, Sanemi pressing steadily into your side as you found your footing against him. Slowly, and with less grace than you were willing to admit, you managed to climb atop Sanemi’s back, awkwardly swinging your injured leg over the opposite side.

Once settled, Sanemi rose beneath you, rising to his full height. Sat atop him, you were willing to bet he was taller than most horses back in the village.

The great wolf sniffed at the air once before lowering himself into a crouch, and springing forth into the Wood.

————

Riding atop Sanemi had been the most exhilarating experience of your life.

Though, you also could not recall the last time such a ride had left you more frightened, given that you’d spent a great deal of it crouched low against his neck, fearing that if you rose your head even a fraction of an inch, some low-hanging tree would embed itself in your face.

You supposed you would have kept riding longer, had your stomach not given a great gurgle after an hour or so atop the wolf. With a growl that you thought sounded suspiciously like a laugh, Sanemi paused in a small clearing near a rocky, moss-covered cliff, disappearing behind the lip of the rock once he’d situated you upon a felled log.

A few moments later, human Sanemi emerged, re-dressed, but his face was severe.

“They will keep coming,” Sanemi’s frustration was clear as he shrugged the fresh tunic over his head, the delectable ridges of his abdomen and the alluring dip of his hips concealed from your sight once more. “So long as they can track your scent, they will keep pursuing you.”

You did not need to ask to whom he referred; the very same fear had gnawed at you even despite the exhilaration of riding Sanemi’s wolf form.

Your appreciation of the huntsman’s physique stalled as fear bubbled again in your gut. “What can I do?” Your whisper was shaky and it made Sanemi pause, his hand twitching towards you. “I cannot change my scent in the middle of the damn Wood—“

“You can,” Sanemi said quickly, and to your surprise, the tips of his ears turned pink. “Or— rather, I can help.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Because you are a wolf? Should I call you that now, instead of ‘Huntsman,’ or ‘Sanemi?’”

“You can call me whatever you desire, so long as you allow me to protect you.” Sanemi retorted evenly.

You tried to keep your voice steady even as you blushed. “And how would you do that, Wolf?”

There was a dark glint in Sanemi’s eyes at your new nickname for him. “A bite from a wolf can change your scent.”

You balked at him. “A bite?”

“Aye,” the Huntsman said casually, as though he was merely discussing the weather. “It would leave a small mark, but that mark would alter your scent enough to make you harder to track.”

You thought for a moment, the blush on your cheeks deepening. “Where would you bite me?”

It was Sanemi’s turn to turn pink. “Likely your neck,” he fidgeted with a stick he used to poke the dying campfire.

You gulped. “Would you have to transform?”

Sanemi’s small smile was handsome, even if it looked a little feral. “No, Lamb. I can stay in this form.”

You watched your protector for a moment, weighing your options. “Come here, Sanemi.”

His eyes snapped to yours, a bottomless heat turning his lilac gaze molten. Slowly, with the grace of a predator silently stalking its prey, Sanemi made his way over to where you sat, drawing short once the tips of his boots grazed yours.

“Do you swear it? It will keep them from being able to track me?” You asked, voice trembling slightly as you peered up at the Huntsman.

He nodded, slowly. A hand reached out to caress your cheek, and your breath lodged in your throat as you found yourself leaning into his warmth.

You managed to exhale around the lump that had formed in your throat. “Then I will allow it.”

Your heart skipped like a rabbit’s against your sternum as Sanemi leaned in close, the warmth of his breath chasing away the chill of the Wood’s air.

“So delicate,” Sanemi murmured, his nose skimming along the slope between your neck and shoulder. “So soft.”

“W-wolf?” Your voice was high, your hands trembling as they jumped to clutch at Sanemi’s forearms, nails digging into his skin in anticipation. “Will it hurt?”

He huffed a laugh against your skin, the gentle tickle of his warm air sending goosebumps along your exposed skin. “No, little Lamb,” his lips danced along your shoulder, back towards the sensitive spot connecting with your neck. “You will feel a prick and then you will feel warm.”

You nodded, the ends of Sanemi’s cornsilk hair tickling your throat. “I’m ready. Bite me — please.”

Sanemi’s groan was followed by a cold, sharp sting that sunk into the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck that was quickly chased away by a soothing warmth. The huntsman’s mouth latched to your neck as he buried his teeth in you, his tongue stroking soothingly around where he now bit.

It felt like someone had poured warmed honey into your veins. It spread, thick and sweet from your neck throughout your body, making you feel like you’d sunk into a hot bath on a cold day. That warmth coiled in your belly and ignited something fluttery and pleasurable between your legs as you tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to the wolf caging you in against the tree.

Your submission evoked a low growl from his chest, deep and rumbling as Sanemi pressed harder into you, his hands bunching your dress at your sides as he continued to suck at your neck. The feeling of his body molded tightly against yours and the way his mouth worked at that delicate spot made you moan out, the sound finally jolting something within the huntsman as he gave you one final kick, before tearing himself away.

“Dear gods, woman,” he heaved, breath coarse. “Are you trying to drive me wild?”

You flushed as you panted, staring at him with wide eyes. Whatever you’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that; you’d not foreseen that the act of Sanemi biting you could feel so intimate, could make you long for him to run his hands under your dress, to touch you in your most sacred places until you begged for him.

He was dangerous; it was thrilling.

“Kiss me again,” you breathed, and Sanemi obeyed, his mouth moving fervently against yours as his tongue caressed your lower lip. Sensing the silent request, you opened for him, and Sanemi’s tongue swept into your mouth, licking at yours as his teeth nipped along your lower lip.

You thought he might devour you; you wanted to let him.

But Sanemi suddenly pulled away from you as though he’d been burned, eyes wide and breath hard.

You blinked in surprise. “Sanemi, what —,”

“We need to go,” he said firmly, his cheeks flushed red. At his sides, his hands curled tightly into fists.

—-

The rest of your journey was oddly strained. Despite having grown closer with enigmatic Huntsman over the last several days of your travels, you suddenly felt as though you’d been catapulted back to square one.

Though he still allowed you ride upon his back in wolf form, gone were the amused chuffs and snorts that he used to signal he was listening to your mindless chatter. Instead, the wolf below you remained tense, a cord pulled tight that was liable to snap at the drop of a hat.

As much as you wished it made you angry so that you could snipe at him, Sanemi’s sudden introversion stoked an uncomfortable self-consciousness within you, and you found yourself desperately grappling for an explanation.

Had you tasted badly, when he’d bit you? Did he suddenly no longer find himself drawn to you, now that your scent was different?

Or, even worse, had he realized that perhaps he did not want you to stay with him in the Wood after all, and was now attempting to put distance between you so that you would be more willing to leave him once you reached the edge of the forest?

The thought made your stomach clench painfully.

Sanemi’s distance did not abate even by the time he slowed to a stop for the night. He’d brought the two of you to a clearing in the Wood that bordered alongside a winding river, crested by a waterfall. Sanemi finally lowered himself to the pebbled ground of the riverbank, muscles twitching as though to hasten you along in sliding off him to balance yourself against a mid-sized boulder, before he stalked back towards the trees, his leather satchel in his mouth.

He avoided even your gaze as he stalked into the shallows of the river, spearing two fish with a sharpened stick he’d fashioned. Sanemi hadn’t so much as thrown a word your way as he’d started a small fire, apparently relying on dusk to conceal the small smoke billowing up.

Despite the coolness of the evening air, you noted Sanemi was sweating as he’d flung out the stick bearing your flame-cooked fish dinner towards you.

In accepting the spear, your fingers accidentally brushed against his and Sanemi recoiled — hard.

“What is wrong with you?” You snapped. “Why will you not touch me? Why do you flinch whenever I am near?”

“I do not,” Sanemi answered hotly through clenched teeth, though the muscle that ticked in his jaw betrayed his frustration. “Am I suddenly required to touch you?”

You folded your arms across your chest, eyes narrowed. “You certainly had no objection to it earlier — especially not when you threw me up against a tree.”

“Threw you —“ Sanemi choked off, his returning glare both indignant and enraged. “As I recall it was you who kissed me.”

“And as I recall, it was you who started doing that — that thing with your tongue,” you accused lamely, though any bite in your words was tempered by the blush creeping up your face.

Sanemi scoffed. “You cannot even speak of it without blushing like a little girl, and yet I am the one acting strange?” He leaned back on the piece of driftwood he’d claimed as his seat, arms folded across his chest, head turned pointedly away from you.

As you mulled over a number of insults to call the temperamental Huntsman sitting across front you, the last remnants of the sun faded from the night sky, and overhanging clouds briefly parted to reveal the moon — nearly full, its silvery glow illuminating the riverbank.

The moon’s rays reached where you and the Huntsman had set up camp when suddenly your hand jumped to your shoulder as you cried out.

Sanemi startled forward with a worried growl of your name. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You grit your teeth, fingers digging harshly into your shoulder as you winced. “Something is — is burning, but I do not know what.”

You were certain the only injury your sustained had been the wound to your thigh by Kaigaku’s knife. But you’d spent enough time in and around flame to know what a burn felt like, and it felt as though something had been branded into you, its throb almost crippling.

You cried out again and Sanemi quickly crossed the dirt and took you into his arms, though you felt him flinch as he did so. “Where?”

You gestured wildly to your shoulder, too distracted by the way his presence made the burn now pulse, sending lashes of heat throughout your body, though there was a maddening edge of pleasure blooming from every part of you that was pressed against him.

Sanemi’s fingers grasped the collar of your dress and wrenched it to the side, swearing softly as he beheld whatever it was he saw.

“What is it?” You managed to grind out, your fingers digging into the muscles of his forearms to keep him anchored to you, as though he were capable of keeping the flames licking at your skin at bay. “Kaigaku did not touch me there — at least, I don’t think —,”

“It was not that boy who did this,” Sanemi said severely, his finger gingerly caressing the spot where your neck met your shoulder. You moaned as his touch extinguished some of the burning fire which had ignited your skin, too lost in the temporary relief to note the way Sanemi’s hands tightened around you. “It was I.”

That stilled you. “What do you mean?” You turned your head, peering up at the Wolf with wide eyes. “From when you changed my scent?”

Sanemi, for once, looked discomforted. “I think —,” he swallowed once, avoiding your gaze as he stepped back. You almost cried out at the loss of his body against yours, as the burn returned once more.

“I think I marked you; but I-“ Sanemi stuttered, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he stared at the ground, his weight shifting uneasily from foot to foot. “But it shouldn’t be affecting you — not like this.”

“You marked me?” Your hand fluttered to the fleshy juncture between your shoulder and neck. You gasped as your fingers brushed against a curious raise in your skin that hadn’t been there before, the strange curvature burning a few degrees warmer than the area around it.

The huntsman’s eyes remained resolutely fixed on the ground of the forest. “I told you I would cover your scent.”

You stroked the the mark, fingers tracing the odd curve, like that of a crescent moon. “What does the mark mean?”

Sanemi hesitated.

“Wolf?”

“It is a mating mark.” Sanemi admitted after a long moment, hand jumping to his hair as he ran his fingers anxiously through his silvery-white locks.

A stunned breath blew past your lips, your eyes wide. “M-mating mark?” You repeated, hand freezing where the telling crescent was emblazoned upon your skin.

Sanemi looked equal parts apologetic and scared. “I swear, I did not know it would affect you — wolves have to accept the mating mark to feel it, so I did not think —.” He ran a frazzled hand through his hair, his anguish apparent. “I thought I would be the only one to feel its call. I swear it.”

In the back of your mind, it registered that the mark perhaps was the reason for Sanemi’s sudden change towards you, but the incessant burning you felt would not allow you to question him on it.

“What does this mean?” You cried out again as the mark surged, the pain reaching all the way down between your legs, making you gasp. “Are we — are we m-mated?”

Sanemi’s eyes flashed. “No,” his voice was firm, urgent. “You still have to accept the mark for us to be mated — that’s why I thought it was safe. It was supposed to change your scent enough for us to avoid those men.”

“I swear to you I do not plan on acting on it; I meant only to help protect you. I fully intend on escorting you to the nearest village, as promised, and then I will leave. That mark does not have to mean anything to you.”

You believed him. The slight panic in his eyes as you winced at the mark’s repetitive flare once more could not be faked. Furthermore, you knew Sanemi would have no reason to bind you to him; not when you’d already made it clear that you wanted to stay.

You still did.

Sanemi’s earlier words echoed in your mind. That mark does not have to mean anything to you.

“But it will mean something to you, yes?” You demanded, drawing yourself up tall even as you sat perched upon the driftwood. “The mark?”

Sanemi hesitated again. “Wolves only mark once.”

He did not offer any further explanation, nor did he need to; you understood well enough.

The Huntsman had marked you, knowing full well he’d never be able to claim another as his mate. He’d done that, knowing that if another came along that won his heart, he could not be with them completely — not in the way his nature would desire.

And he’d done it nonetheless; all for the sake of giving her a chance to escape Douma’s clutches and to be free.

He’d put you first.

You hadn’t doubted the sincerity of your offer to him earlier, but now, there was no way he’d get rid of you. You would not allow it.

“And what would you do if I said I accepted it — accepted the mating bond?” You asked, voice as soft as a feather.

Sanemi snorted, pulling away from you to busy himself with stoking the small campfire. “I would say that you are an innocent, little lamb who does not understand what it means to be claimed by a wolf.”

“I understand well enough,” you replied, indignant. “I know what it means for people to give into their carnal desires.”

“You know nothing, you’ve never even seen a man before today.” The huntsman shot back, tossing another piece of kindling into the small fire. “You have never laid with another, much less a wolf.”

“It cannot be all that different,” you pouted. “You appear before me man enough.”

Sanemi closed the gap between your bodies then, coming to sit beside you on the rock, fingers curling under your chin to tilt your head up.

His eyes glinted with a sudden predatory heat. “It is quite different, little lamb.” He murmured. “I may now stand before you a man, but I am very much still a wolf. I would not take you like an ordinary human.”

There it was again — that heat, so foreign and yet so enticing, flickered to life once more in the depths of your belly, and the urge to rub your thighs together suddenly became overwhelming. With bated breath, you watched as Sanemi’s nostrils flared softly, his pupils dilating as the grip under your chin tightened ever so slightly.

“Then how would you take me, wolf?” You whispered, eyes not wavering from his. “How would I accept the mating bond?”

Sanemi’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, opening only after a shaky exhale of his breath. “You would have to take my knot.”

Your gaze dropped to his lips, the warmth from your mark spreading across your skin along with the sudden urge to feel them move against your own. “Your knot?”

“My knot,” Sanemi repeated, “and that is precisely why I cannot mate you, little lamb.”

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, a movement Sanemi’s eyes followed, his tongue flicking out to wet his own lips.

You pressed your chest flush against his front, hands seeking out his in the dark. “And what if I wanted it?”

Sabemi groaned, fingers latching onto your waist, though whether he sought to push you away or keep you anchored in place, you could not say. “Christ, woman. One would almost think you enjoyed torturing this poor wolf.”

You leaned into him, head tilting as you sought the knowledge of his soft lips against yours. “Not torturing,” you whispered, a hair’s breath separating your mouth from his. “Willingly offering myself to him.”

Your lips brushed against his and Sanemi moaned, his hands reaching to snare in your hair as he moved his mouth desperately against yours, teeth nipping and sucking on your lower lip, like he was hungry to consume you. But before he could, your pulled your head back, breaking the kiss.

“Do it, wolf,” you whispered. “Take me. Claim me as your mate.”

Sanemi grabbed you by your jaw, cheeks squishing beneath his firm grip. “Do you know what that would mean?” His voice was rough, his eyes burning with his desire. “If I did, we would be bonded. Permanently. For life.”

He said it as if you had not guessed it to be true; as if you weren’t prepared.

You gazed up at him through your eyelashes, eyes round and full of the innocence he claimed he could not taint. “Would you have it be another?”

Sanemi took the bait, a feral growl tearing from his chest as he crushed your body against his.

“No,” he snarled, and his mouth descended upon yours once more, his hot tongue sweeping into your mouth to swallow your breathy gasp as you threaded your fingers through his soft, moon-kissed hair.

You moaned into his mouth, hands greedily roaming the rocky planes of his chest, nails scratching lightly along his skin.

“You will be the death of me,” the Huntsman breathed against your lips. “You truly want to accept the bond?”

You moaned, nodding vigorously as Sanemi trailed his lips across your jaw and down your neck, his hands beginning to roam up your sides, tugging you down with him against the boulder so that you straddled his sides.

“Very well,” he murmured. “But I will not claim you here,” Sanemi said gruffly against the delicate skin of your throat, lips pressed against where your pulse fluttered. “I cannot.”

You whined and ground your hips down against his thighs, savoring the way the steely firmness of them pressed against something between your legs that made you feel electric.

“I must take you to my den,” the huntsman clarified, pulling back slightly in spite of your small whine. “When wolves like me claim a mate, we…do not like to be disturbed.”

Sanemi’s fingered the front laces of the stay secured around your bust, slowly undoing the careful lacing as he spoke, though his eyes did not leave yours. “And because it will be a full moon when I mate you, I will go into heat. It will last a very long time.”

“How long?” You fought to keep your head from falling back as you watched Sanemi work, the warmth of his hands seeping through the cotton and linen layers of your dress, making your breasts pebble with every loosened tie of your corset.

Sanemi hummed as he leaned forward, tracing his lips over the exposed skin just below your collarbone as his fingers worked the last of your stays. “At least a day; perhaps two. Other wolves have claimed it lasts shorter when one has a mate, as opposed to having to weather it alone.”

The top swells of your breasts were exposed as Sanemi finally freed you from your outer corset, allowing it to fall to the ground beside you.

The huntsman skimmed his nose over the top of your shift where the tops of your soft mounds peaked over, letting his tongue peek out to follow the trail. The feeling of the hot wetness of his mouth made you fidget in his lap, a whine building in your throat, desperate to have him touch more.

“A-and will you — ah,” you moaned as Sanemi tugged the bodice of your dress and shift down your shoulders, exposing your peaked breasts to the night air. “Will y-you mate m-me the whole t-time — oh god, Sanemi,”

“I could get used to you saying my name like that,” The huntsman chuckled, bending to take one of your breasts fully in his mouth, sucking and rolling his tongue over your stiffened nipple. The contact made the mark on your shoulder burn with a sensual heat that you felt shoot straight down between your legs, and you ground against his thigh, mewling for more.

Sanemi looked up at you as he swirled his tongue over the fleshy skin of your mound, his pupils blown wide. “Perhaps,” he muttered in response to your question, in between light sucks. “It depends on how well you take my knot, you sweet thing.”

You moaned again as Sanemi moved his mouth across the valley between your breasts, taking the other mound between his lips and teeth, his hand rising to keep the other warm. He suckled at you for a moment until you were a whimpering, trembling mess atop him, before he pulled off with a lewd pop!

“But no matter,” You shivered as Sanemi’s teeth grazed your ear. “I promise I will make you feel so good, little Lamb.”

“Why must we wait,” you asked impatiently. “I am ready to be your mate now — I promise I can take your knot right here.”

Sanemi snarled against your skin, but it was not in warning. Rather, your words seemed to stir something deep within him, as the bulge between his legs hardened even more, and the building friction between it and demanding ache in your core intensified.

Sanemi shifted your hips in his lap so the apex of your thighs was no longer pressed flush against his hardness.

“You, my flower, smell far too tempting for me to risk having you in such a vulnerable way in the middle of the damn Wood, without any cover.”

Sanemi, lips traipsed along your jaw as he hummed. “There are many creatures lurking in the shadows that would see my mating you as an opportunity to take a bite for themselves.”

You tugged on his hair, trying to get him to meet your eyes. “I thought my scent was alluring only to you?”

“You don’t just appeal to me, little Lamb,” Sanemi said pointedly. “You have a rare scent that attracts all sorts of creatures here in the Wood.”

“But it is different now?” You pondered, fidgeting in the Huntsman’s lap until the ridge of his thigh pressed against that spot between your legs that made you want to sing.

You hummed and used your grip in his hair as leverage to tilt his head to the side, your lips caressing down the side of Sanemi’s neck, savoring the faint, salty taste of him on your tongue as his fingers dug into your hips.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Your scent has changed, thanks to your mark.”

You pulled away from your assault on his neck to pout at him, lower lip jutting out in a way that made Sanemi’s eyes darken. “So I do not smell as good anymore? To you, that is?”

With a low growl, Sanemi stood, hands gripping under your thighs as he lifted you before he laid you out against the river stone. “Quite the opposite, Lamb,” he quipped, voice low and heady. “To me, there is no finer perfume. Your scent calls to me; it nearly sends me into a frenzy.”

You found yourself incapable of coherent thought — much less speech — as Sanemi’s hands slid up your legs, bunching the skirts of your dress with every inch of skin he passed over until you felt the night air delicately brushing the heat between your legs.

Your legs spread and supported between his grip and the smooth of the rock, Sanemi leaned forward and kissed you, his tongue sliding past your lips to lick teasingly at the roof of your mouth before he broke away, imprinting his kiss down your exposed torso.

You watched him, enthralled by the way your body seemed to come alive under his touch. Even in the dark of the Wood, you could make out the lilac swirls of Sanemi’s eyes as he watched you, noting every gasp and sigh he pulled from you as his hands and mouth explored the planes of your body.

“What curious eyes you have, Wolf.” Your breath was short, choppy as Sanemi’s lips descended past your breasts, caressing the soft of your belly.

“The better to see your pretty face, my sweet,” Sanemi murmured, pressing a sweet kiss right below your belly button, the fire within your gut leaping like oil in a hot pan.

“W-what — oh,” you moaned as you felt his lips press against your hip, the broad expanse of his hands smoothing down over your thighs, pushing the last of your skirts up, and allowing the searing heat of his hands to meet your untouched skin. “What large hands you have.”

“The better to feel you — to caress every inch of you,” Sanemi’s voice was husky as his fingers trailed up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, spreading them wider so he could kneel. One hand gripped the back of your knee and gently tugged your injured leg over his shoulder, so your foot rest against the middle of his back.

His hot breath danced teasingly along your inner thigh as Sanemi’s mouth drew closer an closer to where you ached for him, the night air cool as it licked at your tender, heated flesh.

The feel of his mouth drawing nearer to to the most intimate part of your body made you feel as though you’d been set alight. “Such soft lips you have, Wolf.”

Sanemi chuckled, the sound so dark and rich it sent a shiver up your spine. “The better to taste you with, little Lamb.”

Your breath hitched as you felt something warm and hot flatten against your folds and drag up, Sanemi groaning into you as he repeated the movement, again and again.

His tongue, you realized as a strangled cry fell from your lips, your head falling back against the creek stone. He was exploring you with his tongue.

“Sweet,” Sanemi groaned in between wet, sticky laps against your folds. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

Every nerve in your body felt as though it had been set alight, the mark between your shoulder and neck burning deliciously.

Sanemi’s tongue flattened against your core, his nose pressing sharply against the pearl between your legs as he rocked his face from side to side, smearing your juices all over his maw.

“O-oh gods,” you cried out, hips bucking against his ministrations.

Sanemi’s hot tongue circled your entrance once before dipping inside, his teeth grazing your most sensitive spot as he buried the wet appendage inside your core.

His name fell in a breathy scream from your lips as you bowed up off the creek rock, hands shooting to anchor themselves in his hair as Sanemi began moving his tongue in and out of your fluttering core, his nose bumping and pressing against that delicate pearl at the apex of your thighs as he moved.

“My gods,” Sanemi grunted into your folds. “You are heaven on earth.”

You bucked against him once more, though you could not tell whether you sought more of his tongue or whether your body was trying to squirm away, too overcome by the pleasurable sensations Sanemi bestowed upon you as he worked his mouth against you. It did not matter either way, however, for every time you twitched away from him, the Huntsman’s hot, silky mouth only followed you, your cunt this predator’s dinner.

And apparently, he enjoyed playing with his food.

The frequency of your moans increased as the sounds of Sanemi feasting between your legs grew louder and ever more lewd, his own sounds of pleasure muffled by the repeated wet smacks of his mouth against your dripping folds as he sucked you between his lips and teeth and continued fucking you with his tongue.

“S-Sanemi! Oh — oh gods,” you cried as something coiled tightly behind your navel, making your thighs clench around the Wolf’s head as he worked.

Sanemi only responded with another groan, his hand leaving the supple flesh of your inner thigh to stroke against your folds, making you buck all the more against the stone as his roughened fingers brushed delicately against the spot that made you see stars.

His tongue pulled out of you in favor of flicking the bead at the apex of your legs, his fingers moving to your entrance and deftly pushing in, the wetness leaking from your core ensuring that they slid in without much resistance.

You cried out then, utterly overwhelmed by the way Sanemi’s finger began to work inside you, curling and pumping and stroking along your innermost walls until your entire body vibrated below him.

The hand supporting your thigh over his shoulder tightened as Sanemi resumed his oral assault on that small nub above your entrance, sucking and licking at it until the only sound leaving your throat were feverish cries of his name, your hips involuntarily jerking against him. With each passing moment that Sanemi spent feasting between your legs, something began to mount behind your navel, like a coil being steadily wound tighter and tighter.

You thought it should concern you, this foreign feeling, but as that feeling intensified, so too did your desire to see what would happen when it — you — came undone.

You left one hand gripping harshly at the Wolf’s hair, in some pathetic attempt to keep his face locked against your core, and lifted the other to pinch and roll your breast. You jolted at the stimulation, feeling yourself grow even wetter despite the fervor with which Sanemi lapped and suckled at you.

This appeared to please him, as Sanemi’s free hand moved from your thought to grip at your hip, pressing you even closer to his face until you wondered whether he could breathe. If he could not, the Huntsman did not seem to mind; his groans and growls against your cunt only intensified.

Sanemi slid a second finger into you, and then a third, and the resulting stretch made you see stars, your toes curling in your boots.

That thing in your stomach seized even tighter and your entire body tensed, as though you were on a precipice merely awaiting a slight force to tip you over and sending you hurtling to the depths below.

Whatever was happening to you, the Wolf seemed to anticipate it; for the moment that tight coil within your belly unwound, Sanemi’s fingers pulled hurriedly out of your opening only to be replaced by his tongue, his teeth pressed against your pearl. He lapped up every drop of release that spilled forth, humming and growling as you rode his tongue through the waves of crippling pleasure coursing through you.

As you came down from your high with a breathy sigh of his name, Sanemi shuddered beneath you, a strangled groan lilting out from his mouth between lazy slurps at your cunt. Though your vision was hazy, you could see the faint whites of his eyes peeking through his lids as they rolled back into his head, his fingers tightening their grip on your thighs until it was painful, before releasing once more.

The mark on your neck burned but it was no longer in agony; instead, it felt warm, like a part of your body left too long in the summer sun. but the heat was not entirely unwelcome, especially as Sanemi untangled himself from you, allowing the chill of the late autumn wind to sweep in and lick at your exposed skin.

“That should hold us both over until tomorrow,” Sanemi said after a moment with a throaty chuckle. “Though I will be hard pressed to keep my hands off you, little Lamb.”

Sanemi’s hands eased your skirts back down over your legs. Once your nether region was covered, he helped you sit up, allowing you to cling to him for warmth as he refastened your stays and helped you lace your corset back up the front.

Gingerly, Sanemi brushed your hair back from the shoulder bearing his claim on you. You followed his line of sight, twisting slightly and saw what he did: the crescent-shaped mark, which had burned a violent lavender only minutes prior, had faded back to a pale silver, its ache apparently soothed for the time being.

Sanemi leaned forward and brushed his lips against your mark, his tongue flicking out to caress it as you felt that warmth flood your veins once more. With a moan, you tilted your head, exposing more of your neck again to him, begging him to repeat the action again and again, but Sanemi only drew back.

“Apologies, Lamb,” his eyes were dark once more, and his hands fidgeted at his sides. “Seeing that mark pulls at something within me.”

You allowed your hair to fall back over the crescent bite mark and in an instant, Sanemi’s eyes lightened and a sheepish grin spread across his face. “Wolves are territorial. Seeing your mark makes me want to claim you, even without regard to the danger surrounding us.”

You frowned for a moment. “Are you only drawn to me because you’ve marked me?”

Sanemi’s gaze softened. “I am drawn to you, you vexatious woman, because I find you brave, kind, and at times, even a little charming.”

His hand lifted to caress your cheek, tilting your head down to meet his for a gentle kiss. “The mark is only a physical manifestation of what I already feel towards you. It is simply a way to display our bond to the world.”

Sanemi’s face turned grave and the way he said your name was serious. “You do not have to accept the bond if you’ve changed your mind.”

You shook your head hurriedly. “I want the bond — I want you,” the sincerity of your words resonated with Sanemi, as he pulled your hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses against your fingers. “This is all new to me; I just wanted to know you were sure.”

Sanemi’s soft laugh made your heart thrum, and a blush spread across your cheeks. “I am certain, Lamb, that I would not want anyone else to cause me stress apart from you.”

With a quick peck against your lips, Sanemi rose, stretching his arms high above his head. The moonlight, coupled with the residual flames of the small campfire allowed you to rake your eyes over his lithe form, appreciating every scar and swell of muscle dotting his mouthwatering physique.

But your eyes snagged on a dark stain that had spread across the front of Sanemi’s breeches. “What —?”

Sanemi did not look embarrassed, but he did turn away from you nonetheless. “I told you, Lamb,” he said causually as he dug through the satchel, pulling out a spare pair of pants. “The mark affects me far more than it affects you; at least, for now.”

“That is because of me?” Your eyes trailed his form in wonder, and the sight of the stain made your thighs clench together though you knew not why. “Is that — is that your pleasure?”

Sanemi’s lopsided grin widened, a faint snicker on his lips as he regarded you once more, spread out atop his own traveling cloak. “Yes, Lamb. It is my pleasure.”

You looked up at him, head slightly cocked in question. “But I did nothing to you — not like you did to me.”

Sanemi removed his soiled breeches and re-dressed before returning to your side. “You did not need to; as I said, the mark affects me more than you right now. My body knows I have marked you as my mate, and it is eager to make you mine.”

You shivered at the possessiveness in the words and sat up as he leaned against the small boulder, reaching up over his shoulders to tug his tunic up over his head.

“So it was only the mark?” You asked slowly, eyes dropping down to where you knew his manhood lay under his clothing. “The mark brought you pleasure?”

Warm fingers gripped gently under your chin, forcing you to look back up and meet his piercing stare.

“No, sweetling,” Sanemi said, a low growl tinting his words. “It was not merely the mark. I took pleasure from giving you pleasure.” His thumb stroked the underside of your jaw. “A great deal of it, it seems.”

You shifted until you were on your knees before him, and even the dark of the night could not conceal the way Sanemi’s eyes darkened at the sight.

“Shall I give it back to you, my Wolf?” You whispered, leaning forward to graze your lips against the crotch of his breeches. “I should like to taste you as well.”

To your surprise, neither growl nor groan rumbled from the depths of Sanemi’s chest as you poked your tongue out between your lips and gently dragged it up the seam of his pants, just as he’d done to you. Instead, what fell from Sanemi’s lips was a low, breathy whine, the wolf’s head tipping back slightly as his eyes squeezed shut.

Below the barrier of his clothing, something between his legs began to stir. Curious, you brought your hand against it, palming him slightly through the material.

“Fuck,” Sanemi hissed, and the hand around your jaw tightened, forcing you to rise to your feet.

Sanemi cracked an eye open to glare at you, but he melted at your answering pout, his thumb running over the bottom lip you’d jutted out.

“I promise you, Lamb,” he said gruffly. “I will give you plenty of my pleasure once the full moon rises; so much so, you will not know what to do with it.”

Your curiosity disrupted your self-pity. “From your knot?”

“Aye,” Sanemi confirmed, his voice like gravel. “Speaking of which,” Sanemi then tapped your rear, eliciting a small yelp from you as you separated from him.

“If you’re truly committed to taking my knot, you will need your rest, you tempestuous woman,” Sanemi scolded, and before you could protest, he bent low, wrapping his formidable hands around the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up, forcing you to lock your legs around his waist with a small gasp.

Gently, Sanemi laid you out atop his traveling cloak, bracing himself on one steely arm next to your head as he lowered himself down, allowing one quick press of his lips against yours before he pulled away, stretching out on his side.

“We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and an even longer night.” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes that made you rub your thighs together, even as you scowled at him.

“I don’t suppose you will give me another taste of what to expect,” you sighed, resigned as Sanemi moved his head so that he could lazily dance his lips down the side of your neck.

“I’m afraid not,” his answering smirk was smug as you began to squirm beneath the hand idly fondling your breast. “But I shall make the wait worth your while.”

Your breath lodged in your throat as Sanemi leaned in close, his breath tickling your ear. “When we get to my den,” he promised, tone mischievous, yet you knew he meant every word that followed. “I am going to fucking devour you, little Lamb.”

Devour he will. Part II is fucking filthy. Stay tuned if you want to see her take his knot (again and again).

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