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#demon slayer sanemi shinazugawa
midnightwriter21 · 11 months
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bitches be like “he’s the sweetest angel baby in the world i love him sm 🥺🥺”
and then it’s the most feral, foul mouthed, blood thirsty gremlin to ever exist
*cough* sanemi shinazugawa *cough*
it’s me…
i’m bitches
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A/N = Some plot. I know you think Cable Guy Sanemi. But it's - ok, it might be exactly what you're thinking.
C/W = P->V, oral (both ways), language, drinking, bj follow through persuasion, just general sex. Idk. If I missed any warnings or spelled something in an unacceptable way, please let me know.
NSFW // MDNI UNDER THE CUT
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Full Package
It was 4:45 in the afternoon. There was a knock at your door.
"Fucking better be the cable guy. I swear to god. These assholes ..." you complained the whole way to your door, even a little bit after you opened it. "... Keeping me ... fucking ... ffffuuckk. Hi, you're uh, oh my God."
The overly attractive man with white and messy hair smiled at you with his perfect teeth. His lavender eyes bore into yours. You felt like an idiot for gawking at him. And if he said anything about how silly you're being, you'd just hold a mirror in front of his gorgeous face and tell him to change your mind.
"I'm Sanemi, are you ready to get hooked up?"
You damn near choked on your own saliva.
"Your cable and internet? Can I please come in and hook them up for you?" He gestured with his right hand to be let in.
"OH! Yes, *aheh*," you cleared your throat as he walked by you. He. Smelled. Like. Sex. Not the after sex, but the before sex. When you get all cleaned up for your partner and you're all freshy fresh and nothing in the world smells better than you at that moment in time before you get all sweaty and covered in the other person's juices (which has it's own appeal, but the before sex, there's just something about being so clean together for a minute).
"C-can I offer you something?" You chewed on the tip of your index finger as you stared at his ass while he bent over the entertainment center looking for the cable jack.
Too deep in focus to notice he'd turned around and is now looking at you looking at his crotch.
A tiny string of spit dribbles down your mouth as you sigh. Daydreaming about what his cock would taste like.
"What do you have?" He smiled, clearly not affected by your blatant sexual harassment. It's only harassment if they don't like it, right?
"Hm?" You blinked lazily and met his eyes, almost cumming on the spot. God, he's gorgeous. "OH! What do I have, what do I have? I don't know. Why don't you follow me into the kitchen and we'll look together?"
Sanemi nodded, "Lead the way," he shuffled through the paperwork, looking for something, before he put it down on the arm of the overstuffed chair, "Y/n." And he smiled. It was a little dark, the look on his face. And you were here for it.
"Ok, I have ... ugh. I need to go grocery shopping. I have juice. But you're not a child, right? You're over 18? I MEAN, you just probably wouldn't like juice."
He smirked at your inquiry and tilted his head to the left as he nodded slowly.
"I'm 21. Old enough to drink whatever I want. Young enough to not know better."
"Ahh-ha! Ok, good to know. Well, you just help yourself to whatever you want. Think of this as your home for as long as it takes to get me ... plugged. IN. The cable. As long as it takes ..." You looked at him like he was a nice cut of steak.
He winked at you.
It took everything in you not to slide a hand up your shirt and stroke your nipple under your bra.
Sanemi walked over to the cabinet you pointed at and opened it, revealing the wide array of liquors and alcohol that had collected over time. He rummaged around before emerging with a bottle of vodka and giving you the universal sign for having to make a phone call.
You gave him a thumbs up and wandered over to the living room while you waited for him to finish his talking.
"Yeah, I'm not coming back in today. But I'll be working on Y/n L/n's place. It's going to be really hard to get the wires stripped like I need to. The setup, it's looking pretty fucked. I'm going to have to screw around to make it do what I need it to do. Yeah, just tell him I'll be in on Monday. Ok, thanks {name}."
You heard everything he said and you asked after he'd hung up, "Everything ok?"
He poured two glasses, handing one to you as he came closer, slyly holding up the bottle of vodka, "Yep, perfect. Here ya go. Better to drink this with no ice."
You sat on the couch as he joined you, placing the bottle on the table between the couch and the TV.
You both took long sips. Looking at you, Sanemi took off his button up shirt and throwing it across the room.
"You mind if I get a little comfy? It's hot in here."
Your eyes couldn't leave the tiny droplet of sweat that rolled down his pecs onto his tight abs. You imagined licking it off.
"What movie are we watching?" Sanemi smirked, the dim lighting of the tv making the lines in his cheeks dance.
"Mmm, w-what?" You don't know why you were being so stupid. It's like there wasn't a single brain cell left in your head.
He hummed and chuckled, "Hmm. Nothin', babe." He finished off his glass and turned to face you on the couch. His bare torso on display, making you so wet.
"You're beautiful." You sighed as your head fell back against the couch.
"Oh yeah?" He whispered as he leaned forward, kissing you like he already knew how good he was at it. It wasn't messy or dirty. He was gentle. And as you moaned, you felt his smile on your lips. He must've known how he affected you. It was pretty obvious, anyway.
He worked off his black jeans, reaching into his boxer-briefs and squeezing his cock, "Oh my God, I'm so hard, fuck. What should I do about this? It's a sin to waste a fat, hard cock, you know?"
Your chest heaved as you watched him slowly rub his hand over the bulge in his underwear. You were so turned on tears were forming in your eyes. You could have been struck with lightning at that moment and died a happy woman.
He crawled on top of you, pulling his underwear down and revealing his perfect, thick, cock.
You licked your lips, "Oohhh, shit."
Sanemi grinned and took the one sip of his drink to finish it off before pulling yours out of your grip and taking a swig of that.
"Need a little lubrication." He chuckled as he sloshed it back and forth.
You eyed him, "Are you ..."
He held his hand to your mouth, "Don't tell me you want me stop? Babe. You want to see this monster? You gotta work for it." He smirked.
You leaned towards his crotch and grabbed his length, gently sucking the skin of the tip, the bulbous head feeling so soft against your tongue.
You took a few slow licks before he moaned, "That's it, suck on the tip. Let it coat your whole mouth."
His moans vibrated your whole core as you devoured his cock. "Fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. Just like that."
His fingers toyed with your nipples under your shirt as you bobbed up and down his thick, throbbing shaft. The precum was addictive.
He pushed on your head a little, "Here, stick your tongue out."
You did as he said and stuck your tongue out a little ways.
"Good girl. Open wide now." Sanemi smiled as he rammed his entire cock in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You were careful with your teeth as he started fucking your face.
"Yeah, there we go. Your throat feels fucking amazing. I might cum quick if you keep this up."
You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked and sucked. You tried to pull back but he gripped your scalp and kept you in place, "Shhh, just take it." He moaned.
You loved hearing him moan for you. It made your clit throb and drip into your pants.
You pushed your hand down your yoga pants, fingering yourself while he fucked your mouth.
"Fuck yes, I love the sight of you touching yourself. Such a filthy little bitch. Oohhh shit. Fuck."
Sanemi groaned, pushing on the back of your head with more intensity as he plunged deeper and deeper into your mouth, feeling your throat contract around his cock as you gagged.
You pumped your fingers in and out of your soaking pussy, so close to cumming all over your hand.
But Sanemi stopped and grabbed your waist, lifting you up and sliding your pants down.
"No. Panties? You a frequent commando flyer? Tell me, did you know I was coming out to your place today? Was this decision made on my behalf? Fucking dirty little brat."
You couldn't pass a 3rd grade spelling test right now, you were so drunk on him. So you just smiled pretty and hoped he'd stop talking.
He spread your pussy lips apart and plunged two fingers inside as he licked your clit like a fucking expert.
"Holy shit," you whispered, rubbing the sides of your tits as you fucked back against his face.
"Your little clit looks hungry, I'll give it something to fill up on." He smiled, biting it gently before giving it a hard suck, sending you bucking and shuddering all over his face. His hair was the only thing that kept you upright. You had no idea how hard you pulled it, but Sanemi didn't complain.
You were panting as he finished you off, "I'm going to fuck your brains out, y/n." He whispered into your ear. You damn near came again at just how good his breath felt.
You couldn't wait. Your eyes rolled back at the relief you felt knowing he was about to tuck himself into your cunt. "Oh God, yes. P-please, Sanemi. Fuck me."
His hands gripped your hips so hard as he plunged himself inside of you. "Shit, you're so tight. How are you this fucking tight."
You pulled his white and messy hair hard and thrust yourself onto his cock, feeling every inch of him deep in you. "Mmmfuck! Yes, Sanemi!"
His thumbs were in your mouth now, fucking you just how you liked. You flicked the tip of his finger and watched the grin form on his beautiful face, "Mhm, you know what to do to that tongue, huh? Do you want to make me feel so good I can't stand? I'll cum deep in your little cunt. Mhmmm, yes I will."
Your tongue twitched against his thumb as his other hand massaged your clit. "That's it, cum for me, cum for me." He sped up his pace, slamming himself into you.
Your pussy clenched as you felt your orgasm approach. The pressure mounting. And then it hit. Hard. "Yes, fuck yes. Shit, Sanemiiii!" Your thighs were shaking so hard you were afraid you wouldn't be able to keep up, but he never let you falter.
As you were on the other side of your orgasm, he flipped you over on your back, "My turn."
You gripped his forearms as he slammed into you.
"You take my cock so well. Who knew your little hole was hiding such a talent?" He smirked, tucking his sweaty bangs behind his ears.
"Oh, right there. Don't stop. Fuck, oh my God. Don't stop."
He threw you a flirty wink, "Wouldn't dream of it."
You cried out as you came again, your clit was sore and sensitive from his sucking but somehow he managed to rub it just the right way to bring you to another one so quickly.
Sanemi kept his thrusts even, working you through your second orgasm while bringing himself to his.
You pulled him by the neck and crashed your lips to his as he spurted his hot, creamy cum deep in you.
After a few moments of panting, Sanemi looked up at the TV, "Whoops, you ordered a porn. How was it?"
You shook your head and laughed, "No, no. This right here was a freebie."
He smiled, running his hand through your sweaty hair, "Forget the porn. Let's fuck the day away. I don't even know if my dick can work that hard anymore, but I'm willing to try if you are. Plus I gotta wait until Monday before I can come back out." He pouted.
He didn't have to wait until Monday before coming back. Every time he "forgot" some papers at your house, he'd fuck your brains out. After the job was done, he just didn't have any more work to come back and do at your house. But you sure as hell saw him on Friday and Saturday and even a few times on Sunday.
"Ya know, we could try the whole dating thing if you want. Might make me show up on weekdays just as often, especially if my dick is doing all the walking." He leaned back against the couch and put his hands behind his head.
"Yeah. That might work."
And it did. A lot. Sanemi wasn't the best at keeping his word, but his dick never failed to follow through on a promise. So there was that.
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Thirsty Thursday Confession - Sanemi
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I want to kiss and bite this man so bad (ノ∀`♥) I wanna bite his chest and leave hickies, soothing over the ache with gentle kisses and praise.
Leave him blushing! Blushing so bad that the tips of his ears turn red and moans clog his throat.
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astrox · 2 years
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Incubus Sanemi Shinazugawa x chubby! fem reader
tw//: 3.5k words! summoning rituals, swearing, masturbation, teasing, wet dreams, mentions of overstimulation, slight somnophilia, handjobs, phantom touching (involves a mirror), cliffhanger
authors note: MIGHT have multiples parts
Sacrificing the blood of a virgin to please a demon! Those words played in your head over and over again. The number of times your friends explained it, you couldn't fathom the idea. Summoning a demon is all they talked about, imagining the countless possibilities of a demon summoning ritual whether it was good or bad. Horror was their favourite movie genre and they fawned over the oversexualized demons shown on screen. You don't know if it's the raging hormones or the fact that your friends are weird—you'll still love them if that was the case. Numerous times, you passed off the topic, for movies and snacks. Drunk nights didn't help your situation either—the conversations getting weirder and repetitive.
Weeks passed and your friends offered to spend the night at your place for movie night. You couldn't say no to the company since you were bored. Hours since plans were made, you set up your living room. For years, you know what is always needed for movie night, snacks, comfort, and lighting.
The couches were already in position so the girls could sleep soundly if need be. Occasionally, you would share your bed since it was big enough for you three. Once everything was done and looked perfect, you settled on one of your couches, scrolling through social media on your phone. You ignored most of the posts, liking the ones you found interesting and took pictures of your setup. Until a knock at your door pulls you away. Clad in a tank top and short shorts, you threw your phone on the couch, hearing it bounce a couple of times. Opening the door wide, you see Shinobu and Mitsuri, standing in the doorway. In Shinobu's hands, she held questionable items in plastic bags, unlike the brown bags Mitsuri carried in hers.
"Sorry, we're late. Mitsuri wanted more snacks so she made some sakura mochi and dango," Shinobu explained. You let out a hum, mouth watering for Mitsuri's sweet.
"You know me, I love my sakura mochi and dango," The girl confessed, cheerfully.
"It's fine. I ordered a pizza too if you don't mind. It should be here in a few minutes," You said, inviting them inside. They settled in as if they lived with you. Like naughty roommates, they raided your kitchen where you kept your snacks on the counters. Mitsuri was the big eater out of the three of you and you knew the snacks would disappear in minutes. Shinobu sets her plastic bags on another counter where you leaned on your elbow. Raising a brow, you point at the bags. "What's in the plastic bags?"
The two girls shared a glance. Shinobu answers, "Oh just some...stuff,"
"Stuff? Let me see," You checked the bag for yourself, pulling out not one but five purple candles and white chalk. You also found a metal bowl, needles and a box of matches. Tossing the matches at Shinobu and chortled. "What the hell is all this, Shinobu? Are these wisteria scented candles?"
"Ah-ah! careful with the merchandise, Y/n! Candles help me relax especially wisteria," The woman cried, catching the matches with both hands. You didn't allow her to ignore your question and asked again. This time, Shinobu looked at Mitsuri, hogging on the ice cream from the container.
Then you remembered the ritual and asked, a finger poking a candle. "Wait-this stuff is for that weird demon ritual you guys were talking about a few weeks ago, isn't it? I remember you said wisteria was involved in the ritual,"
At first, the girls denied it, shaking their heads side to side. While you couldn't get your friend to confess, your eyes fell on Mitsuri. Holding your hips, you leaned in staring Mitsuri down. Mitsuri is smiling whilst her lips are wrapped around a spoon. Gazing back at Shinobu, your hands pulled her cheeks apart, making the girl whine out of annoyance. "Let a girl know about your evil schemes before you go behind her back, kay!"
"Oh no! I'm so sorry ma'am! it won't happen again," You said, trying to imitate your purple haired friend's voice. You squished her cheeks together so it looked like her lips were moving to your teasing. Releasing her face, you pat her face and flicked Mitsuri on the forehead. "You too, Mitsuri,"
"Ow, y/n-"
"Wait-you're not mad?" Asked Shinobu, rubbing her face. Shaking your head, you chuckled.
"Why would I be mad? You guys do weird shit all time. Who am I to judge when I do weird shit too," You answered with a shrug of your shoulders. The two girls smiled ear to ear, dismissing the pain you inflicted on them briefly. For a time, you settled on laying out everything the girls bought with them just for them—thought it will be hard to refuse them later on. "But I am mad that you didn't think to tell me before you brought these things into my home. This is not an occult club. You're lucky I love you guys or else you would be kicked outside."
"We're sorry," The girls said in unison, earning a pat on their shoulders. "We won't do it again,"
"Now we're getting somewhere, thank you." You smiled, hugging them close. "Well, now that we have that out of the way, we can do your little ritual thingy first since it's quicker,"
"Oh yay!" Mitsuri cheers, closing the ice cream tub. She puts the ice cream back in your fridge and snatched Shinobu's plastic bags. She gently pushed you aside and picked a clearing on your floor. She carefully dumps the contents all over the floor.
"You do realize that you're the virgin sacrifice, right?" Shinobu mentioned.
"And you do realize that this is all fake and I'm just playing along, right?" You added on, hopping onto your counter. You waited, watching the girls set up their items on your floor. Your legs swing back and forth, occasionally hitting the cabinets below. They needed silence so they muted your tv just as the news appeared on the screen. Shinobu drew a pentagram using chalk and Mitsuri placed the wisteria candles around the circle. She didn't light them until Shinobu directs you to the middle of the pentagram. You were surprised to see how fast it took for it to be done.
"The instructions we found online said that the sacrifice should be here. Lie down on your back and give me your finger," Shinobu instructs you and you did. Making sure to be careful with the chalk, you slowly lowered yourself and laid down on your back. As for your finger, you held it out, not expecting Shinobu to prick it with a needle.
"Ow, you bitch! Warn me next time," You yelped.
"You're fine, it's just a prick," Shinobu used the blood from your finger and draws a symbol on your forehead. After Mitsuri lights the candles, you froze. One wrong move will result in your hair or clothes catching on fire. Your friends take their place, sitting across from each other, one on each side. Mitsuri mouthed comforting words, and Shinobu recited an incantation. Blinking, you rest one hand on your stomach and the other one sits on your chin with your finger in your mouth.
Lord of darkness. We offer you this virgin—blah blah blah. Are the lines you can remember, too distracted by your bloody finger. You suckled on your blood, hearing the ritual continue on and on. Shinobu would then stretch her hands by her side along with Mitsuri and chant the incantation over and over again faultlessly.
Did they rehearse or something? Your eyes would move between the girls, voices growing in volume. It's strange, to hear no laughter nor mispronunciation of the words—spoken in a language you couldn't recognise or understand. Suddenly the candles exhausted their flames. You flinched, releasing a rasp and shot up on your palms. The space became dim, the muted tv serving as the main light source throughout the room.
"What the fuck was that?" You shouted, voice sounding spooked. Mitsuri and Shinobu glanced at each other. Neither knew anything about the strange phenomenon. You were on edge but rest assured a knock at your door brought you back to reality. It was the pizza you ordered for delivery. Mitsuri jumped up on her feet to collect the money you left aside for the pizza.
"Hi! Thank you for the pizza!" Mitsuri greeted and bowed. She handed him the money in exchange for the pizza. "Oh, it smells so yummy! Thanks again, Mr Pizza Guy! Have a great night!"
"Anyways, I found a bunch of movies for tonight," Shinobu pointed out, gesturing to your little setup. "We should get this little party started,"
Nodding your head, you retreated to the bathroom to wash your face. You kept a first aid kit under your sink and found the bandages in a little box. Wrapping the bandage around your finger, you smooth the bumps down. For the next ten minutes, you helped your friends carry the food to your sofas, blankets and pillows too. You sat down with your tv remote in hand. Shinobu took over the screen and would ask if you and Mitsuri wanted to pick from her selections. You picked the movie midsommar sitting at the bottom of Shinobu's list. Mitsuri couldn't decide on what movie she wanted to watch and settled on your pick. 
Meanwhile, in the depths of all that seemed evil and choleric, the realm the humans called hell housed firey ghouls and demons. Powerful but horrid creatures or doomed souls condemned to their eternal suffering. Near the flaming rivers, a lonely incubus would awake from his deep sleep. How he awoke is unknown to the other creatures lurking in the deep but to him, it's so simple. After dreaming for so long, he was finally offered a sacrifice—an exquisite one.
"It's about damn time, you little shits-" He spoke amidst the middle of a loud yawn. He yearned for this moment and already he's intrigued by you. For Sanemi, this meant a lot. It gives him a gateway to earth instead of terrorizing his little brother to alleviate his boredom. Weary demonic eyes, found his window to see into the human world. 
He could see into your little apartment and your two little friends keeping you company. Dressed in those shorts and that tank top, the demon's temptation grows more and more with the sight of your skin and his tongue traced his lips, hungrily. Plump in all the right places, voluptuous and pure—all for him, sent blood rushing to his cock. Watching you spread on your sofa, You jumped in your spot as a gruesome scene played on the screen. Your arms stretched over your face using your shirt as a shield and you whined. The action showed your ribcage little by little. 
Fascinated. The demon leaned in a little more, catching a glimpse of the underside of your breast after your hand got caught in your shirt. A soft groan would leave his lips, and a clawed hand slowly travels over his crotch. Watching on, your body would turn on its side, thighs clamped together and arms cuddled around you, you let out a yawn as your movie continued. Eventually, you chowed down on a dango stick when Mitsuri offered. Your teeth bite down on a ball and pull it off its stick.
"These taste amazing Mitsuri!" You moaned, taking another ball into your mouth. Seeing your pink tongue poking out from between your lips, made the demon's cock twitch against his hand.
"Fucking hell-" The demon whispered, grinding into his palm, imagining it was your hand instead. Moving his fingers, his gaze never leaving you and his cock stood when he pushed his loincloth to the side. An aroused sigh rumbles in his chest, fisting and pumping his cock deliberately. Something thick in his throat forced him to swallow in an attempt to subdue his sweet lust for pleasure. He wished it was your cunt squeezing him, milking him for all he's got.
Beads of precome oozed from his tip and ran down his shaft, coating every one of his fingers. He hissed, paying no mind to those who heard him moan. He has no shame whatsoever, throwing his head back. Moans drown out the souls falling into hell around him. 
"Oh Y/n, you should have a bite! It's a donut (psst...rengoku) bun with whip cream inside," Mitsuri offered a bite of her bun. You leaned in, sinking your teeth into the bun and to the demon's dismay, cream from the bun spilt all over your chest.
"Oh, shit-" You and Mitsuri squealed, followed by laughter. Swiping the cream off your cleavage, you sucked it off your fingers, compelling another groan from the incubus. More of his slick seeped and his free hand would cup his balls, fondling them in his grip. Stroking his cock, Sanemi quickens the pace of his hand, feeling the prominent veins on his shaft pulsating and his desire roils like wildfire. His lips stretched into a grin as his mind was set on claiming your body for himself.
"I'm so sorry y/n. I had no idea it was gonna make a mess," Misturi apologized, handing a napkin.
"It's alright Suri!" Laughing it off, you licked the last of the cream off your fingers and wiped your finger on the napkin. It's what sent Sanemi over the edge. Never in his existence has Sanemi come so fast. He groaned lowly, spurts sprayed hitting his chest and covering his tip. Hot thick globes rolled down his shaft painting his red skin white. A fanged smile stuck on his blissed face, heavy pants and his cock still pulsing in his fist. 
And with that, he journeyed above the underworld. Patience is all that was required of him and all will be his. For you, it meant absolute torture. At first, you denied his presence as you carried on with your life, working your ass off and earning money to pay for your everyday living. As for the ritual, it slipped your mind after your friends left your apartment, leaving you alone with Sanemi. To you, it was fake—written by freaks on the internet to drive people insane. But in time you'd later regret that. 
Sanemi would make signs. Possessing objects in your apartment and messing with your head. Every night, he'd watch you sleep but not once would he let you rest without him granting you a taste of what he's capable of. It starts as phantom touches, his hands running up on your ankles to the heftiness of your thighs. The closer he got between your legs, he stops sending shivers throughout your entire body. He's a tease, only leaning back to enjoy the show. Tainting your skin is his love marks, red and purple hickeys that you hid with more layers of clothing—even makeup. Along with the marks are scratches and bruises lined on your thighs. 
Sanemi carried on this behaviour for weeks and some nights you would never sleep at all. Clueless of the cause, you spent those sleepless nights huddled in a blanket and a cup of coffee to keep you awake. Google also became your best friend, frantically scouring the internet for answers. This messes with Sanemi's patience until he plagues your thoughts with the image of him fucking you. Thoughts that have you hot and bothered, hands trembling down your body.
"What's h-happening to me!" You question, pushing your underwear aside. 
You were no strange to masturbating, although you never plunged your fingers inside you. Only rubbing outside of your underwear, tracing your lower lips and rolling your breast in your hands did the trick—most of the time. Watching you through your mirror, Sanemi hums as your fingers disappear in your cunt, your slick glistening your pretty lips and the calling of his name. Lying face down and ass up, you whimper whilst the new sensation of your fingers moving made a mess beneath you.
Come on my pretty little human. Say my name. Moan for me pretty girl. Sanemi snickered from inside the mirror.
"Sanemi!...s-sanemi," You cried out, overstimulating yourself to an extent. Mouth pooling with drool and cheeks stained with your tears, you parted your fingers to feel your gummy walls stretch. You'd imagined what sanemi's cock felt like inside, his cum filling you to the brim. "Please...sanemi,"
Your cries and mewls were music to Sanemi's ears so much that he couldn't take it anymore. One night, he appears in your bedroom, crawling out of the mirror that is standing in the corner of your bedroom. He's tall, his body littered with scars all over his chest, arms and face. A pair of dark black wings stretched out and black curve horns barely scratched the ceiling.  Wings blocking the moonlight, his shadow obscured your safe space. Sanemi's eyes fall on you sleeping in your bed, affected by him invading your mind. You mutter in your sleep, mostly his first name.
"Sanemi...sanemi," You said repeatedly, body tossing and turning every few seconds. The demon snickers, running his hands up your ankle to your juicy thigh still beneath the covers. He grips it, hearing you let out a squirm. Tugging the covers off you ever so slowly, your skin shivers and goosebumps began to form. Sanemi drools over your curves clothed in your f/c nightdress.
"Such a sweet little human," The creature smirked, feeling his anticipation rive inside him. "You're a difficult one. I'd give you that," 
Taking your jaw into his hand, Sanemi pressed a light kiss on top of yours. A sweet display of affection that was sure to be the first of many. It makes you smile right as Sanemi stops invading your mind, granting you a moment of peace. However, it was time for the real thing.
Leaning over your body, Sanemi's clawed finger loops under the strap of your nightdress and starts to pull it down. Still moving down, Sanemi comes upon a realisation once he reveals your chest. Your breast bounced when free, nipples perking from the cold. No bra huh? He said internally, groping your mounds with his colossal hands. His fingers would pinch your nipples then tug. Twirling them between the pad of his finger and thumb, Sanemi's long tongue stuck out when his lips brushed your collarbone. Lathering your beautiful skin in his saliva, the incubus is set on torturing your pure heart and soul. He made sure to leave bright new marks over the old ones fading away but refuses to bite you—at least not right now.
When Sanemi's head meets the valley of your chest, Sanemi dips his head to the side and takes a nipple into his mouth. Circling the bud, he watched your face still lost in sleep. He wonders how long it will take for you to wake up because of him. One hand would abandon your breast just to tear off the rest of your nightdress leaving you in your underwear. A loud rip should've roused you out of slumber yet you stayed still.
That lingering hand would cup your clothed pussy, feeling it dampened from his touch. His fingers drew circles on the wet spot making you stir in your sleep—finally some movement. He kissed his way down, loving every inch of your smooth skin, caressing your soft tummy and getting closer to your forbidden fruit. Lying fully on his stomach, his nose sniffed the air. By the gods, he could smell your arousal. The aroma is so intoxicating his mouth watered and his dick harder. Rubbing his nose on the waistband of your panties, he takes a big sniff. 
"Oh fuck," He groaned, loudly and takes another big sniff.
Like a mad man deprived of a good meal, he laps up the soaked material, grinding his nose on your clit taking in more of your alluring fragrance. Tasting so sweet, he tears your panties off with his teeth and dips his tongue between your folds. Prying your thighs further apart, he pushed his face in more, sucking up your delicious slick. He poked you with the tip of his slippery tongue, wriggling it before he wrap his lips around your clit. Sinfully noises filled Sanemi's pointy ears with your legs closing on his head. Sneaking a hand between your thigh, he slips a finger inside your pussy and instantly feels your walls clamp down. 
Sanemi grins, parting from your clit with a pop. "You're really clamping down on my finger, princess," 
Looming over your face, Sanemi eyes you sleeping whilst his finger prods inside you. He's surprised you haven't woken up yet. It's boring not seeing your face twist in pleasure. With a click of his tongue, he adds another finger that made your body twitch. A soft moan is the only sound Sanemi could pick up, halting his ministrations. His wings flopped by his side in annoyance, and the demon frowns. Somehow, Sanemi is not enticed by the idea of taking you in your sleep, especially in a small space. He wants you to watch him make you feel good on his cock. He wants you to scream his names so other demons knew who you belong to.
This was not fun at all
likes & reblogs are appreciated <3 if you see any grammar mistakes...keep that shit to yourself
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boomboomberry7 · 2 years
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Betrayal Cuts Deep
Pairing: Sanemi x Fem!Reader
Warning: Mention of betrayal, this is not related to the actual story line, mention of suicide at the end, blood, killing.
Genre:Angst
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Blood dripped down your face, your body, and your katana. But that wasn’t the thing that pained you the most, the thing that pained you was the look on your lover's face. Horrid, betrayal, sadness, anger, and regret were flashing through his purple eyes. The one thing he hated the most was demons because they killed his entire family. So when he fell in love with you he swore to protect you from every demon, but what if you were one yourself. 
One day the truth will come out, and that day will pain everyone. The person you love the most and the people you cared about were betrayed by you because you were selfish enough to stay. The truth was that you weren’t supposed to stay.
Flashback
“Y/n Miyabi, my strongest Kitsune. You are sent to the human world to wipe up all the traces of tengus living there. One has always said foxes and crows are never to cross paths, one stays on land, and the other flies through the sky.  Never to cross paths. But Tengus has been destroying almost all of our shrines. They declare war and I shall give in. So go my child.” 
You nodded and opened a portal to the human world and erased all of your scent masking it with a human scent. 
As you traveled the lands of the humans, killing one tengu by one. You encounter a demon trying to attack you but before you could kill it off a gust of wind came flying, you were quick enough to dodge the attack. “What is a girl doing out here at midnight?! You will be killed by a demon if you keep wandering around out here at night!” A rough voice yelled from the dust cloud caused by the wind.
The dust finally settled and revealed a tall, muscular, scarred, white hair boy. “Am I not allowed to be out here at night?” You cluelessly asked and he gave a short answer, “No”
So you asked him why and he told you or more like yelled at you that human-eating demons were roaming at night. So he demanded you to go home, but you told him you didn’t have a home. Which led him to stare at you blankly and hesitantly he offered you his estate to stay at.
That led to a love that you didn’t know you could feel. Which led to your mission which was supposed to take a maximum of two weeks into years.
Flashback ended
But a fantasy always comes to an end. The truth will be revealed. Love is replaced by betrayal. Just because of one single fight.
Flashback
After years of living with Sanemi, you have not realized that there was a kitsune shrine near his estate. Not until you smelt the smell of a tengu nearby. Still not forgetting what you were sent here for you set off to kill the tengu. Sanemi was on a mission so he wasn’t home, which was the perfect chance for you to go off. 
Once you got closer, you transformed into your true form, a fox human with nine tails. You had the color of the white and black coat. One of your eyes turned from a brown/black into emerald green, the other one stayed the same. You wield your katana in one hand, the black and white represented your two tails, and each of your tails represented a power. The black and white powers were shadow and darkness and the other was light and brightness. 
On your other hand was your third eye which looked like a big ghostly eye. This was called the curse of the third eye. You weren’t born with this power, you were cursed by Shuten-Doji the leader of yokai for disobeying the laws. 
This power lets you make your enemies hallucinate, visualize, and physically a death you caused for them.
You walked towards the Tengu which gave off very powerful energy. Once you came into the range you opened your third eye, causing you to see the world in black and red. Letting you see every single movement. The tengu turned to you not yet putting the first attack. “You ruined my kind’s shrines and you think you can get away with it?”
The tengu cackles at your sayings and replies “So what we are just having a little fun, don’t you guys like being mischievous? You know with kitsune being a mischievous fox and all.” you scoffed at the comment, “Playing tricks and pranks are different than destroying one’s property.” You sent back at the tengu. “But oh how weak of them to send their strongest link after us tengus.” The tengu gave out a horrid laugh. That was when she came flying at you trying to swing her big wings at you. 
You moved quickly and slashed at her wings. But she was fast and was already right behind you knocking you back into a tree. You threw your third eye into the sky pulling her into your world of hallucination. You managed to leap at her and slice one of her wings making her let out a horrid scream. 
“You damn fox.” She screamed
 She used her claw-like feet to scratch your back and then kicked you sending you to the ground. When you got up you met with the eyes of your lover and his peers. You froze which was an opportunity for the tengu to stab you piercing from your back to your stomach making you spew out blood. 
You snapped back into reality using your magic to a barrier to protect Sanemi and the other hashiras. 
“A kitsune protecting the ones she loves will be useless if you’re dead.” She laughs standing onto of you. But you smirked “But I won’t die if you don’t stab the right spot you stupid tengu.” You quickly moved and pierced her with your katana through her heart, killing her instantly. “What kind o yokai are you do not know a weakness of one.” You threw her body to the ground and pulled out her katana from your stomach which sealed up but still not fully healed. 
Flashback ended
He saw the way you killed the tengu. He sees you covered in blood. He saw your true self.
“You’re a demon.” That was what he first said after a silence. You tried to approach him but with every step you moved forward he moved back. “Nemi… please I’m not a monster.” You stuttered out. “You are! All demons are monsters. You lied, you betrayed me. I loved you.” 
His words pained you one by one but what mostly pained you was ‘I loved you’ 
“Please… don’t be like this Nemi. I know I am a demon and I know that I lied and all but I love you and I won’t hurt a soul.” Tears ran down your eyes. 
“So you were going to hide it from me forever?! I was going to marry a demon without even knowing.” He screamed and you cried.
“I loved you truly I did Y/n, but I can no longer love you. You’re a demon. Your just a kind that kills and kills. War is all you guys want. Blood shed. I just want peace. To live in a world were my kids will not be murdered. Yet you live in a world were you kill others. You should’ve seen the way you looked killing the tengu. All I saw was pure evil in your eyes.” You could he was holding back every emotion.
“I-I’m sorry…” “No, you’re not! You know I hated demons. You know what they did to me. Yet you decided to lie and betray my trust. Leave. Leave forever. I don’t want to see you anymore.” He turned away.
Leave 
You repeated the word over and over. Yet you didn’t move a muscle. Your eyes are still fixed on him. 
A kitsune’s death is caused by only one thing, the pain of a heart. 
A soul could perish due to heartbreak.
“This was my suicide mission. I love you always Sanemi Shinazugawa. Goodbye, forever my love.”
Everything turned black as your body turned to stone because you were stabbed physically in the hurt but you died due to the feeling of love. 
Once your body turned to stone, Sanemi walked over to your statue putting his hand into yours while kneeling down. “May I see you in another peaceful life and may we fall in love truly.”
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kingkatsuki · 2 months
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— my protector
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Tengen needs your help in trying to locate his wives on a mission, and Sanemi is furious.
Get me a man who’s only soft for us, stat😫😭
Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader.
Warnings: 18+, established relationship, reader is a fellow hashira, jealous Sanemi (for literally no reason), possessiveness, rough sex, slight degradation, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding, creampie.
Word Count: 4.2k.
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All Sanemi could see was red, fiery red as he roamed the halls of the Butterfly Mansion, ignoring the pain in his right arm from the wound Aoi had just patched up moments earlier.
“Shinobu will kill you if she finds you drawing your sword in here!” Aoi called after him, but Sanemi could care less as his eyes sought out the Sound Pillar.
He had just returned from a three-week-long mission to find out that Uzui had enlisted you for help on one of his missions. Practically offering you up as bait to try and find his wives who had gone missing, like that was even your problem. And Sanemi knew you were always so eager and willing to help, it was something he loved and loathed about you at the same time.
The rage continued building inside him as he pulled open another sliding door aggressively, the wood gliding back from the force as he skimmed another empty room before continuing further through the mansion.
“Listen to me, Shinazugawa.” Aoi huffed, followed after him as one of the only people inside the mansion who weren’t scared of the white-haired man, “I told you Shinobu won’t be pleased to find out you’re breaking all her doors.”
“Fuck her,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, “Where’s Uzui?”
“If you would’ve actually stopped for five minutes to let me explain, instead of being such a jerk,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, “He left with her a few hours ago. Said it couldn’t wait much longer, that his wives may be in danger—”
“How the fuck is that her problem?” Sanemi growled, “So he isn't here?”
“No, but I would advise you don't follow him. Your wounds—” Sanemi ignored Aoi, already halfway down the hall as he marched towards the entrance, determined to find you on his own. It was when he stepped into the courtyard that he saw Uzui coming in by the front gate with a wide smile on his face.
“Ah, my crow told me you were back!” Uzui made to step towards him to finish the conversation, but Sanemi’s sword was already drawn as he stepped towards the larger man, “Perfect timing, my friend!”
“You fucking left her there?” Sanemi barked, “Why are you back here?”
“I came to get you at the request of your lady love,” Uzui grinned as Sanemi curled his lip in irritation at the pet name, “She made me promise to tell you as soon as you got back from your mission because she wouldn’t be around. And I thought you'd prefer a personal greeting.”
“Why the fuck are you sending her on your missions anyway,” Sanemi continued, ignoring Uzui's grin, “And leaving her there!”
“It hasn’t even been twelve hours,” Uzui shrugged, standing in place even as Sanemi stepped towards him.
“That’s already twelve hours too damn long, you prick.” Sanemi drew his sword as he made to lunge towards his fellow hashira.
“She’s probably safer there than she’d ever be out in the field,” Uzui dodged a blow with the hilt of his sword, the guard barely protecting his hands as he used his body weight to push the Wind Pillar back.
“Probably?” Sanemi roared, “She’s probably got sick fucks like you all over her right now.”
“Oh,” Uzui’s lips curled into a cocky smirk at the admission, standing upright as he pushed some fallen hair away from his eyes, “So that’s it— you’re jealous.”
“I ain’t jealous, you fuckwad.” Sanemi grunted as he attempted another slash towards Uzui, knowing it was serious when the wind user hadn’t even bothered to use his power.
“Sure seems like it,” Uzui scoffed, taking another step back to avoid his attack, “Nothing is stopping you from visiting her, you know. She’s only a few towns across and I'm here to take you right to her.”
“Oh, you’re taking me to her,” Sanemi spat, “Right fucking now.”
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“Someone is asking for me?” You raised a brow suspiciously at the implication. Wondering if this meant the demons had realised that you were in fact a slayer intent on taking their head. Your stomach swirled in trepidation as you tried not to show any fear, smiling at the young girl by the door as you bowed your head.
“Yeah, and frankly I’m glad,” She clung to the belt of her kimono, “He looks scary!”
“I definitely don’t want to spend the night with him,” Another girl grimaced, “I don’t think I’d make it out alive.”
You frowned, worried that you wouldn’t have time to access your katana to holster it beneath your kimono. Instead, all you had was the small dagger strapped against your thigh, which you were certain wouldn’t be enough to protect you from the attack of a demon. But at least it was better than nothing, knowing he wouldn’t attack until you were at least secure back inside this room as you bowed your head. Following her down the stairs to the entrance of the establishment, feeling a cool breeze tickle your ankles from the open door and curtain flowing in the wind.
Your heart stilled when you noticed the familiar man standing by the entrance, glaring at anyone who dared look his way as you felt your chest swell with familiarity. You hadn’t expected to see him here this night, and you certainly hadn’t expected him to be asking after you.
“Is this the girl you were asking after, my Lord?”
“Yes,” He grunted as the Madame motioned him to step forward and follow you back to your room.
You had to stop yourself jumping him in the foyer, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and cling to his broad shoulders.
Feeling the heat practically radiating from his body as you slid open the sliding door to your room, stepping to the side to allow Sanemi to follow before sliding it shut. And in an instant, his rough hands were grabbing hold of the fat at your hips to pull your body against his, your lips meeting in a bruising kiss.
Your hands reached up to thread through his messy hair as the scent of the woods mixed with his natural sweat invaded your senses. He clearly hadn’t bothered to bathe when he returned from his mission, far more concerned with finding you.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He spoke against your lips when you finally pulled away for air, still holding onto you as your nails dragged against his scalp, “I had to come home to find out you’re helping Uzui?”
“Tengen needed my help,” You murmured, and Sanemi’s nose scrunched in irritation at the use of the Sound Pillars' first name.
“Tengen,” He mocked the pitch of your voice, “Has three fucking wives that can help him, I only have one.”
“Technically,” You parroted his tone, giving him a cocky smirk as you felt his fingers press into the skin at your hips, “I’m not even your wife.”
“You’re as good as,” Sanemi scoffed as he stole another kiss, “And Uzui would do well to remember it.”
“His wives are missing,” You mumbled sadly.
“So does that mean he’s looking for a fourth?” Sanemi frowned at you as you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at his jealousy.
“No,” You lowered your voice to a whisper, “He hasn’t heard from them for a few days, the letters have stopped coming— and he thinks something bad may have happened to them.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sanemi couldn’t lie that it had hurt to find out from someone else that you wouldn’t be there upon his return, whether it was jealousy or the fear of losing you he was unsure. But either way, it left him with that familiar sense of dread that pooled in the pit of his stomach and threatened to boil over.
“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t much time,” You did wish you’d sent your crow to warn him, but Uzui had promised you that he would let Sanemi know. Especially since you were doing this for the sake of his wives, “He needed my help, so I offered.”
“You’re far too nice.” Sanemi shook his head, using his grip on your hips to pull you into another sultry kiss.
“I thought that’s why you loved me.” You teased.
“No,” Sanemi scoffed, “I love you for your perfect ass,” He spanked your cheek for emphasis, “Everything else is either a bonus or a crux on my life.”
“You pig.” You scrunched your nose as Sanemi couldn’t stop himself from stealing another kiss.
“I’m kidding, sweetheart,” Sanemi’s eyes softened as he reached up to cup your face in a calloused palm. His thumb stroking gentle circles against your cheek as you leaned into his touch, “But you really should stop putting yourself in harm's way.”
“I’m a hashira,” You replied simply, “It’s what we do to protect others.”
“Protecting others doesn’t mean becoming a whore.” He spat, although you knew there was no malice there. The harsh tone covered up the fear and dread he felt in your gut at the prospect of something happening to you.
“And yet here you are, at the whorehouse requesting me by name.” You smiled back, relishing in the pink hue that dusted his pale cheeks.
“I just don’t want to lose you,” His tone sobered, resting his forehead against your own as he stared down into your eyes, “What a pitiful existence it would be.”
“You won’t lose me, Sanemi.” You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull his body against you, feeling his semi-hard cock press against your hip. The time without you made even more conspicuous when he's now surrounded by the comforting scent of you again.
“Did anyone touch you?” He immediately pulled back, concern evident in his features as he looked you over.
“No, I’ve been fine,” You shook your head, “They’ve mainly had me sitting down for tea with travellers passing through.”
“Good,” He pressed a kiss against your forehead in relief as he exhaled softly, “You have no idea how much I missed you, sweet girl.”
He peppered kisses along the curve of your jaw as you tilted your head back to give him more room. Your hands smoothed along his collarbones before dipping lower to trace patterns against the marred skin that scarred his chest, pressing your fingers into the ridges as you felt the tacky sweat clinging to his skin.
“I missed you too,” You whimpered gently as his teeth found your pulse point, biting down on the sensitive skin as his tongue lashed against it.
Sanemi bullied his muscular thigh between your parted legs to keep you steady against the wall as he shamelessly fiddled with the belt of your kimono. Letting the fabric fall open as he drank in the sight of your bare skin beneath, his firm hands immediately paw at your bare sides. Noticing the small dagger that you had holstered against one of your thighs as he ran his fingers over the handle of it in satisfaction.
“That’s my girl.” He murmurs, “Not planning to use that on me are you?”
He teased, pushing it back into the holster as he moved his hands back up the curve of your hips towards your chest. Truth be told, he was relieved that you had some form of protection in here. Especially when there was the chance that a demon was responsible for the spate of missing persons in the area.
“It depends if you’re nice to me or not,” You mused.
“I’m always nice.” The words coming from Sanemi’s lips alone were enough to have a melodic laugh rumbling in your chest, as for most, Sanemi and nice were complete contradictions.
“Liar,” Throwing your head back in a pretty laugh that had Sanemi’s heart rattling against his rib cage.
“I mean, I’m always nice to you, aren’t I?” Sanemi’s thumbs stroked the underside of your breasts as he delighted in the way your body responded to him, curving your back towards him as your bare cunt pressed against the flat of his thigh.
“We shouldn’t,” You murmured, “Not here—”
“Let me have this, sweetheart,” He hummed, leaning down to capture one of your pebbled nipples between his lips as he sucked hard, “I am a paying customer, after all.”
In fact, he was going to get that money from Uzui for his pure subordination.
“Why pay for something you can get for free at home?” You teased as he afforded your other breast the same attention, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as you let out another airy moan.
“My girl wasn’t there when I arrived home, and I had heard the girls here were beautiful,” He played along, “Apparently there’s one with the best fuckin’ pussy.”
“Oh yeah?” You gasped as you felt his fingers press against the indents of your thighs, dangerously close to your labia as you bucked against his leg. Giving your clit some slight relief as Sanemi continued forward, his thumb brushing through the wet slick that coated your folds as it drooled out of your neglected hole.
“Yeah,” He repeated, pulling away from your breast with a pop as he found your clit. Pressing sloppy circles against it with the calloused pad of his thumb as he watched you shamelessly grind yourself into his touch, “Apparently she’s already fucked into the shape of another guy though.”
“Must be a lucky guy,” Your eyes rolled back, knocking your head against the wall when you felt two of his thick digits slip inside your tight hole with ease. Scissoring them to loosen you up as he pulled back to watch you inquisitively through half-lidded eyes.
“The fuckin’ luckiest.” Sanemi grinned as he felt your walls throb around his fingers. He deliberately curled them towards the spongy spot inside you that he knew would have you seeing stars as he began to focus each roll of his wrist against it.
His name continued to spill from your lips as he kept his movements poised and focused, his rough thumb kneading circles against your clit as he worked you towards your release. No one knew your body better than he did, and he knew after being pent up for so long how little effort it would take to have you dangling on the edge of your release.
“Fuck, Sanemi.” You moaned, already feeling yourself dangerously close to falling, “I’m gonna cum.”
“Then cum.” He spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and his blase tone immediately had your cunt clenching around him as you swan dived directly into your bliss. The pleasure surged through your body hard and fast as you came undone, his darkened eyes focused on your movements a he kept his fingers pressed against that same velvety spot. Following the wave of your hips as you rode out your release, unrelenting against the sensitive area as he already had you hurtling towards a second.
It was too much, and not enough at the same time. Your pliant walls throbbed around his slick digits as you wished for something more, something bigger.
“‘Nemi, fuck me please.” You whined pitifully.
“Such a filthy mouth on such a pretty girl,” He teased, but he pulled his fingers away from your sopping heat, lifting them up to the light to spread them as you noticed the silvery webs of your release clinging to them as he pushed them between your lips to taste yourself.
You tried to speak, but the pads of his fingers against your tongue muffled the words as you cleaned them off. His lips curled into a satisfied smile as he pulled them out of your mouth, dragging your glossy bottom lip down in the process as both hands immediately reached for his belt.
“When we get home I am fucking you like you deserve.” Sanemi spoke coolly, “Not some quick fuck in a whorehouse.”
“I deserve everything you give me, 'Nemi.” You smile up at him lazily before watching him tug his pants down, revealing his fat cock to your prying gaze.
You immediately reached for it, and he let you. Hissing when your smaller palm wrapped around the girth of him, giving him a teasing jerk that had his nostrils flaring and his jaw locking. Your thumb swipes over the swollen tip to gather the pearl of pre before smoothing it down his length, delighting in the choked grunt that rumbled at the back of his throat.
“Is that so?” He continued, “So bending you over the moment I get you home will be deserved,” His voice darkened, his own palm joining yours against his length as he tightened your grip on his cock, holding your hand steady as he fucked himself into your fist, “You tease.”
“Fuck,” Your cunt throbbed around nothing at his suggestion, as you instinctively spread your legs further apart, “Please, 'Nemi.”
Sanemi curled a palm beneath your thigh to hoist it up against his hip, spreading you open for him as you guided the leaky tip of his cock between you. Stroking it against your drenched folds as you coated him with your essence, moaning when the swollen tip nudged your puffy clit. Feeling yourself growing more impatient as Sanemi pulled his hips back to tease you, pushing your hand away from his cock as he wrapped himself in a fist. Pressing the head against your tight entrance as he felt your hole tremble against him, trying desperately to coax him in as he indulged himself with your reaction.
“‘Nemi, don’t be an asshole,” You pouted as you tried to can’t your hips forward, feeling the tip breach your entrance before he was quick to move his hips back. More than content with teasing you, despite being in such an open, compromising place.
“If I were an asshole I’d leave you unsatisfied like this to search for the demon myself,” He goaded, pressing his hips forward once more.
“Sanemi,” You whined in irritation, “Don’t tease me, please, it’s been too long.”
He didn’t give you a moment to think before he was bullying his cock inside your tight cunt. Your inner walls stretched to accommodate his girth as he moulded you to the shape of him once more, reminding you of exactly who you belonged to. The sensation stole the air from your lungs as you could do little but cling to his broad shoulders as he afforded you a moment to adjust to his size, dragging himself from your velvety walls before canting his hips forward again. Setting a languid motion as he slowly rolled his hips against you.
“Sanemi,” You sighed in satisfaction as you felt whole once more. Too many lonely nights were spent dreaming of this as you felt him finally bottom out, the coarse hairs at the base tickling your clit as you bit down on your bottom lip.
“We’re in a whorehouse,” He mused, still sluggishly rolling his hips into you, “It only seems right that I treat you like one.”
Your cunt clenched around his cock hard at the notion, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sanemi who grinned in satisfaction. His fingers tighten their grip around your thigh as he takes this as his answer.
Sanemi is brutal as he fucks into you, not sparing you a moment's peace as he uses you for his own gratification. The sound of skin against skin echos the small room as his balls slap against the curve of your ass with each forward cant of his hips. The ferocity of his thrusts has your breasts bouncing and your thighs crying out for some relief as you struggle to stand upright, thankful that Sanemi’s strong body has you pinned against the wall as he fucks into you.
“Oh my god,” You cry out, nails digging into his skin as he maintains his pace. His other hand squeezes at the fat of your ass as he angles his hips, the curve of his cock drags against the spot inside you that he knows will have you seeing stars as the blunt tip kneads your cervix.
“Look at me.” Sanemi growls, his warm breath fanning your face as he keeps a consistent pace.
Your eyes meet his and you’re certain you’ll cum under the intensity of his gaze alone, your cunt clenches in retaliation as he continues to thrust into your sopping hole. Each sultry moan he pulls from deep in your chest has him rolling his hips with more vigour, eager to have you repeat them as he works you towards your climax.
It’s pitiful really, how easily he has you submitting to him as you already feel the telltale signs of your climax ebbing in your pelvis. The pressure builds up as it nears breaking point as Sanemi pushes into you with more ferocity, using your body for his own means as he works himself to his own release.
“I’m going to leave you pumped full of my seed,” He growls against your cheek, his chest heaving as he feels his balls begin to tighten, “Leave it drooling down your thighs when I’m finished with you. So that everyone knows who you belong to—”
You knew this was a direct attack on Uzui, and the fact that he’d handpicked you for his assistance on this mission. Even though there was nothing in it beyond securing the safety of his wives, it had Sanemi oozing with jealousy and he was intent on reminding the Sound Pillar that you were not his plaything.
“Do you also need a reminder of who you belong to, sweetheart?” Sanemi spoke lowly as he fucked into your pliant walls, slipping a hand between your connected bodies to press sloppy circles to your clit.
“No, ‘Nemi—” That familiar sensation throbbed between your thighs as you teetered on the cusp of your climax.
“No? Then who do you belong to?”
“You, ‘Nemi. You—” You choked out, leaving messy red lines against his chest now as he pressed harder against your clit.
“Louder.”
“You, ‘Nemi! It’s always been you!” You cry out, certain that the rest of the floor could hear you as you began to gush around his cock. Your hips bucked wildly as he pinned you in place, keeping his thumb firm against your clit as he watched you ride out your climax. Indulging in the debauched noises that escaped from between your pretty, bruised lips.
“Good girl,” He snarled before moving his hand from your clit to resume a damn near savage pace. Rutting hips against your own messily, working himself towards his own end as he felt the way your walls continued clenching around him in the aftershocks of your climax, “Such a good girl for me.”
He arched his back so he could look down at where your bodies were connected, watching the way his thick cock disappeared inside your velvety walls. And the creamy ring of slick that you’d left around the base of him, the silvery lines matting into his pubes as he felt his balls begin to seize. Certain he wouldn’t be able to last much longer before giving a few more sloppy thrusts and emptying his balls into your warm, wet cunt.
Sanemi stayed buried inside you, feeling the last spurts of his orgasm surge through him as he coated your walls in thick, white spunk. Cherishing the final few flutters of your walls around him as you both came down from your highs, peppering kisses against your face as you placed a palm against his chest to feel his racing heart, the dull thump of it soothing you as you felt your thick lashes begin to flutter.
“Don’t fall asleep, sweetheart.” Sanemi rasped, starting to pull himself out of your spent cunt as you whined in objection. Trying to tighten your thigh around him to keep his hips in position as he grinned down at you; pressing an apologetic kiss to the side of your lips before looking down to see the mess of your combined release stringing against his length as the silvery lines split apart, “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta.”
You knew he had to go, Uzui was probably still waiting for him on a rooftop somewhere. Hopeful that you’d have some news to share with Sanemi about the whereabouts of his wives, but you felt the regret begin to pool in the pit of your stomach as reality settled back in.
“If you want to leave with me, I’ll take you right now,” He said as though it was the most simple thing in the world, “But if you want to stay in I’ll be watching.”
You didn’t have to tell him your answer, he already knew. Placing a final, lingering kiss on your lips as he held you in his arms, “Nothing will ever happen to you as long as I’m around.”
3K notes · View notes
peachdues · 7 months
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IN THE NETHERWOOD
PART I
KINKTOBER 2023 ♤ WEREWOLF!SANEMI X RED RIDING HOOD! READER
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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!
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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.”
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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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bwabys-scenarios · 2 months
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When Sanemi finally broke the news about having a wife, many of his colleagues seemed almost… worried for the woman. If you had been there, you may have been upset, because they didn’t know the Sanemi you knew.
Your Sanemi spent his nights fighting demons and his days in your arms, covering you in kisses and worshiping the ground you walk in. He was the most gentle a husband could be, holding your hand when you walked down flights of stairs and kissing the top of your head every chance he got.
Every single morning when he came back to you, he had something to show for it. Sometimes it was as simple as a piece of candy he bought while patrolling, or as extravagant as a shiny new hairpin or silk kimono. You would call yourself spoiled, but Sanemi would tsk and say you weren’t pampered nearly enough.
No one knew the gentleness of his hands, the soft caress of his lips like you did. Those hands that had slain so many demons held your hips down ever so gently as he fucked into you, promising that this time he’d give you that baby you so desperately wanted.
He’d kiss your temple after you were thoroughly stuffed with cum, then hold you close, tracing his finger along your belly. “That’s where our baby will be, sunshine.”
You couldn’t necessarily blame others for assuming your hulking man of a husband was a brute, he was covered in scars and had a resting bitch face to match, but you can’t judge off of appearance alone. That angry face melted into a content smile every time you held it in your hands, his arms moving to wrap around your waist.
If only they could see him through your eyes, maybe they wouldn’t judge so quickly.
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gamergirl-niffler · 2 months
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Wind Hashira || Shinazugawa Sanemi
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shizukais · 9 months
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How the Hashira view each other [Kimetsu no Yaiba Fanbook 2]
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ghostbite0 · 3 months
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lets go hashira lets go!
edit 3/19/24: wanted to fix some things... hashira fanart moment. will be selling these as prints soon!
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midnightwriter21 · 11 months
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demon slayer hcs: motherly hashira!reader x the hashira pt 2
characters: fem!reader x muichiro, sanemi, mitsuri, obanai
AN: this is a pt 2 for the request from @danielle-marie
READ THE FIRST PART HERE
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MUICHIRO
I LOVE THIS BABY SM U DONT UNDERSTAND
he's the hashira that ur most comfortable around
he was a hashira before u
but u get promoted and its an instinct
child.
must protect.
at first he probably gets annoyed by you
he's not used to someone caring for him the way that u do
but then one day ur sent on a long mission
maybe a few weeks long
and he finds himself missing something
of course he has no idea what it is that he's missing something
he completely forgot about u
but when you get back to the butterfly estate and he sees u
it clicks
he remembers
he missed you
he missed your overprotective nature
he missed your soft caring voice
he missed the way that you brush and style his hair
he REALLY missed that ^
walks up to u, grabs ur hand and tugs u away
doesn't care if you were talking to someone
and doesn't say a word
brings you to his favorite cloud watching spot with a tight grip on your hand
makes you sit down
and lays his head in ur lap
stop im squealing and kicking my feet from the cuteness
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SANEMI
my guyyyyyy
have i ever told yall that i love him?
only in every single thing i post
anyways
he HATES you at first
lmfao rip u
your shy and quiet nature reminds him of giyuu
and if theres one person sanemi can't stand
its giyuu
therefore he don't fw u
and doesn't pay u much attention
UNTILLLLL
he witnesses u pulling genya by the ear to the infirmary after a mission
and telling genya tf off for pulling som stupid shit during the mission
+100 respect right there
not only are u actually talking
but ur screaming??
at his brother??
and taking care of him at the same time?????
my guy is lucky if he doesn't pop a boner right there lmfaooo
starts paying more attention to u after that
and is noticeably a lot nicer and calmer around you
will blush beet red and deny tf out of it if the other hashira comment abt his change of heart
but def develops a soft spot for u
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MITSURI
SWEETEST HUMAN BEING TO EVER EXIST EVER
she loves u
ofc she does she's the love hashira
but in mitsuri's mind how could she not absolutely ADORE u
not only are you breathtakingly beautiful in her eyes
but she sees the way u interact with the younger slayers
how u genuinely care for everyone's wellbeing
if she wasn't looking for a husband she would wife u tf UP
she still might lol
mitsuri is gonna go out of her way to become friends with you
she's inviting u to her estate for girl's night with shinobu
she's dragging u along to her favorite restaurant for lunch
she's inviting u to join her at the hot springs to relax
she really enjoys ur presence
even if ur shy she thinks ur very soothing to be around
she loves when you do her hair!!
and when u cook for her??
mitsuri alrdy eats a lot
but if u made the food for her??
girl is not letting a CRUMB go to waste
loves the way u take care of everyone
especially when u take care of her
10/10 would recommend a mitsuri
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OBANAI
someone pls love this man
he needs it so bad
so dude had SHIT parents
like bad bad
so when he sees ur interactions with the younger slayers he's prob a lil put off at first
like ma'am?
this is the demon slayer corps??
we don't have time for all ur mothering and coddling
but then he's injured on a mission
and waiting in the infirmary for shinobu to show up and patch him up
and then u bust through the doors???
confused asf
shinobu is on a mission and you've been helping out in the infirmary
so looks like ur the one taking care of him today
and turns out his injury is bad enough to land him an extended stay in his lil hospital bed
and after a few days of u taking care of him
with ur red face and soft stuttered words
he learns that you're not so bad
and he actually enjoys being around you
and being taken care of
won't voice this tho
but when Aoi comes in to give him his meds one day he gives himself away by accident
with a
"where's y/n?"
he's a blushing grumbling mess after that lol
after he discharged best believe the next time he gets injured he's not even going to the infirmary
he's hunting u tf down
nobody else gets to take care of him except YOU
and thats period.
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Here's a little part of the CableGuy!Sanemi I'm working on. I swear to god. My need for this man grows more and more every damn day. Something has got to give before I go full on nutzo and end up strapped in a wheelchair, talking to a white wall swearing up and down to the nurses that I'm talking to my husband, Sanemi.
Was that oddly specific? Yes. Should you be worried? Probably not?
A/N = I guess, send help?
C/W = Language, Oral both ways, sex {P->V}, little bit of smart assery, some pats on the back
MDNI // NSFW under the cut.
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HERE'S THE FULL PIECE:
Full Package
{Suddenly, the word "full" looks wrong to me. That's when you know you've spent too long looking at something.}
"FULL PACKAGE"
Your tongue twitched against his thumb as his other hand massaged your clit. "That's it, cum for me, cum for me." He sped up his pace, slamming himself into you.
Your pussy clenched as you felt your orgasm approach. The pressure mounting. And then it hit. Hard. "Yes, fuck yes. Shit, Sanemiiii!" Your thighs were shaking so hard you were afraid you wouldn't be able to keep up, but he never let you falter.
As you were on the other side of your orgasm, he flipped you over on your back, "My turn."
You gripped his forearms as he slammed into you.
"You take my cock so well. Who knew your little hole was hiding such a talent?" He smirked, tucking his sweaty bangs behind his ears.
"Oh, right there. Don't stop. Fuck, oh my God. Don't stop."
He threw you a flirty wink, "Wouldn't dream of it."
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Just been struck over the head with a glorious mental image!
Sanemi shinazugawa - who still looks like he's planning someone's murder - carrying around your baby.
A fat chubby baby, with cute little Tufts of white hair and a little scowl (just like her dad!) every so often making baby noises - in a manner befitting an old lady
He's just trying to inspect some fruit while she's clenching and unclenching her little chubby hands angrily with his shirt, drool - maybe a bit of snort too....- wetting the fabric when she nuzzles
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astrox · 1 year
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ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 / 𝟎𝟐
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ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄
not proofread (too lazy)
ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀
⇾ description of injuries and cause of death
ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒
@sanemisfav
( previous chapter )
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Your body couldn't move against the weight on top of you. You couldn't breathe, smoke clogged your lungs. You were drifting in and out of consciousness. The debris crushing your body kept you pinned as the fire roared above you. Only your hand could slip between the cracks and signal to anyone nearby that you were trapped, pleading for someone to rescue you. 
"Y/N!" 
Snatched up from the pile of rubble, you found yourself in the arms of your older brother. His appearance looked wild, his s/c skin covered in blood and ash. The state of his face frightened you the most. Often seen with a smile on his face, half of his face is burned to a crisp.
 "F-found you, Little Red," He muttered over the crack of the blaze. He carried your body like it was nothing and limped towards the exit whilst you coughed profusely. 
"B-brother...your face," You whimpered, reaching out to touch. 
"I'll be fine," He assured you, slipping off his pinky ring. The second your fingers graze your brother's wounds, he disappears after he slips his ring onto your right ring finger. Your vision is cloudy until you find yourself surrounded by more fire. 
Sometimes, you dreamt of the past. It's nothing more than a blur the more your memories slowly forget all that has happened. The fire. The town. Your Father, and Mother. Your brothers. It always ends the same, walking out of the flaming building untouched by its fiery grip and to the villagers' shock, you appear to have spawned from hell. 
"Monster! Murderer! Burn Her!"
"No no no! Stop it!" The tips of your fingers turned black, revealing the darkness hiding within you. Flaring images plagued your mind, preventing you from seeing what was real or fake. While everything continued to fall apart, the charred hands of your family emerged from the blaze and grabbed onto your body. 
"Brother help me!" You cried feeling your body being lifted off the ground. Against your wishes, the hands of your family begin to pull you back into the inferno. You fight, clawing at the flaking skin, grabbing hold of whatever your hands can reach and holding on tight. 
You needed to know why you were robbed of a family. Why you were the only one left alive? Everyone you know is leaving you behind and you won't be able to remember them. To mourn their deaths without memory is far worse than living in isolation. Without Winter, you'll forever be alone. Who's to say that when you leave this world who would be there to remember you?  
Awaken by a tongue licking your hand, you jumped seeing Winter standing beside your bed. You leaned up coated in cold sweat and examined your hands. Nothing covered your fingers and your brother's ring sat perfectly on your finger. Sighing in relief, you settled beneath your covers and felt your pup jump onto your mattress. Winter snuggling against your leg always comforted you at this times like these. It lets you know that you're not alone and you were grateful for it. 
Raising your right arm above your face, you looked over the ring. For some unknown reason, you've sensed something each time you stared at the ring. You don't what it was as the trouble has been bugging you since you possessed the ring. Then again, you were unable to remember most of your past. One nightmare after the other, the memories of your loved ones fade away. You don't want to forget. You just wanted to know the truth. 
A stinging sensation in your head forced out a hiss. It was happening again. Sitting up in a flash, you gripped the right side of your head, lamenting in pain. Quickly, you breathed in and slowly to ease the pulsing feeling, rubbing circles against your temple and where the pain stemmed from. You did this for a while until the pain subsided and you downed the glass of water sitting on your nightstand.
The first thing you did in the morning after every nightmare was write down all that you could remember in a journal. You wrote down about your brother's injury, the villagers, your fingers turning black, and your family's hands emerging from the fire. Everything you wrote over the years seemed out of place—like the pieces of a puzzle placed in the wrong spots. Then a thought.
"Little Red," You read after writing it down the page. "My brother called me little red," 
Ending your entry there, you looked around your bedroom before they land on your red hood, hanging on a coat rack. You walked over to the rack and took the hood along with some clothes to change into. 
For hours, you tended the wolfman in your old room. Concerns over a fever came to pass almost instantly. The warmth radiating from this stranger's body was merely his body temperature returning to normal, which was good news. You believed that he possessed healing factors that worked two times faster than humans. As always, you leave a plate of food beside his bed if he wakes up during the day. If the food hadn't been touched, you'd feed it to Winter or use it in your garden as compost. 
Every day, you grew cautious of the hunters searching around your area. Thanks to the trees and Winter distracting them, you'd sneak by during your herb gathering. However, as you'd watch them lay out the bear traps after you noticed a familiar face. The man you saw across the river. You've got a better look at his appearance. Short black hair, pale blue eyes with unusual pink coloured eyelashes. Your eyes spotted the tattoos on his forearms, marking him a criminal for life.
Situated on the root of a tree was another man, tall, young, with long platinum blonde hair and rainbow-coloured eyes. The man eyes the black-haired man, then laughs. "Hey, Akaza! Did you know the saliva of a wolf has antiseptic properties? I wonder if that works for hybrids. If wonder if humans can do that too," 
"Would you shut the hell up Douma and help me with these traps," Akaza demands, hiding a set trap under some leaves. He reached around for another before he starts moving to another spot.
"Imagine the hybrid we're looking for trying to lick its wounds, but it can't reach!" The man laughs. Despite Akaza's annoyed snarks, Douma continues to test his partner's patients without giving him a hand at laying down bear traps. Instead, he plays around with the fans he kept hanging on his belt. 
"It's a shame that Kokushibou couldn't join us. He's a better conversationalist after all." Douma frowned, slumping against a tree trunk. Akaza rolled his eyes, separating the bear trap by its teeth. "And too bad, we couldn't keep the money we made from Yahaba's armour. I need new clothes that go well with my fans. Blue, black maybe re-"
"Just shut up already!" 
Not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself, you sneaked away and pulled your hood over your head. You spoke. "I need to be more careful coming this way,"
You returned to that spot late at night, tossing a stick to trigger any bear traps. Startled by a few sprouting out of their hiding places, you jumped back. The chain reactor rather quickly, causing you to sigh in relief before you retreated. Meanwhile, back at your cottage, another suffers from his own nightmares. A little boy standing in the dark, scared and alone. This boy fidgets with his fingers before his lips part and calls out a name.
"Nemi!"
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© 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎 — all works belong to astrox! do not plagiarize, recommend, or translate my work without my permission
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thetwelvekizukihq · 10 months
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Artist: hirono_murui (click on name to be taken to their Twitter)
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