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peachdues · 7 months

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IN THE NETHERWOOD

PART I

KINKTOBER 2023 ♤ WEREWOLF!SANEMI X RED RIDING HOOD! READER

A/N: did I get carried away? Yes. Do I care? No.

Part I is plot + smut. Part II is minimal plot and a lot of smut. Like a concerning amount.

Forgive the pace/editing errors. This was supposed to be a one shot that turned into a two part fic lmao.

CW: violence/some description of gore • mating • knotting/discussions of knotting • biting/mating • feral/protective Sanemi • virgin!Reader who is a big time monsterfucker • oral sex (F!receiving) • Sanemi makes a mess of his breeches • implied murder/other violence by Douma, but left purposefully ambiguous • brief description of another human being eaten

This honestly could be a multi-part fic that continues after Part II, given how much I leave open — but I’ll let you all decide if you want that. For now, enjoy the ride, monster-fuckers. Happy Kinktober!

You’d known Douma’s band of acolytes had been pursuing you for at least a quarter of a mile through the dark wood, and you’d only grown more and more desperate as the excited titter of their voices drew nearer.

You were panicking; with every moment that passed, your legs grew heavier as the weariness of the last day and a half of your journey became a weight you could no longer ignore.

Find the huntsman of the Netherwood! Your grandmother had pled as she’d fastened the thick, scarlet cloak around your shoulders. He guides those in need to far-away villages. He will take you somewhere safe — where Douma cannot find you.

Grandmother did not dare let any of the tears sparkling in her eyes fall as she looped her hands behind you and pulled the hood of your cloak up over your head, concealing your hair from sight. Head north until you come to the river and then head west. You will find his cabin. Go!

Granny had all but pushed you out of her small cottage — the cottage you had come to regard as your home — and off into the chilly, autumn night.

You hadn’t questioned the urgency, though the realization that you would likely never again return to your grandmother — or even see her alive — hadn’t stung any less. But you knew, as well as the old woman who’d raised you after your parents disappeared in the Netherwood, that if Douma got his hands on you, you would never be seen or heard from again.

Just like his four other previous wives.

The last woman he’d taken as his bride had been a dear friend of yours — Kotoha — and she’s arguably lasted the longest, though perhaps that was because she’d been pregnant when the frost lotus containing his marriage demand arrived at her parents’ hut.

The eclectic village worship leader hadn’t apparently minded that Kotoha had been pregnant with another man’s child — she was unmarried, young, and beautiful; it was all Douma required.

The tension among the village women had dissipated once Kotoha had survived the first week of her union with the rainbow-eyed monster. After all, the other three wives had barely lived to see the next morning, never mind seven.

Kotoha had lived several more months — even giving birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy whom she’d doted over, and even you thought that perhaps the rumors swirling through the village had been wrong. Perhaps those other three women truly had run off into the night with various lovers, leaving Douma alone in his mansion in the eastern wing of the village.

The last you’d seen her, your friend had been smiling and bright, happily making her way back to her marital home, baby Inosuke happily snuggled against her chest, as she’d cheerfully waved you goodbye.

Kotoha was never heard from again. Though the village elders had dispatched a recovery team to search for her, no trace of either her, nor the precious baby boy whom she’d loved so dearly, could be found.

A week later, your grandmother opened the front door of her homely cottage to find a single frost lotus resting on her doorstep.

No one turned down Douma’s marriage proposals; but neither did anyone survive them.

And so, your grandmother had packed a small satchel with what meager provisions she could scrounge, wrapped you in her heirloomed scarlet cloak, and pushed you out the door, begging you to find the mysterious huntsman of the Netherwood so that you would not become the village’s newest ghost.

Douma had surely slaughtered your beloved grandmother by now, having learned of her insolence.

You clamped down on the mournful sob building in your throat, knowing if you allowed yourself to give into your grief, it would only slow you down even further, and make it more likely that her sacrifice for your life would be in vain.

Though, in fairness, it might all be for naught anyways; the Netherwood was not a humble forest with only the occasional gray wolf or hungry bear to fear.

For centuries, your village had stood on the outskirts of the dark, ancient wood which divided it from the nervous system of villages and bustling little towns that made up the region. That isolation meant your village had become largely self-sustaining, though a few brave souls managed to make a yearly sojourn across the Wood to trade with establishments on the other side. The forest stretched for miles, encompassing small mountains and rocking ravines that were difficult enough to navigate on their own, especially in disagreeable weather.

But rugged and often temperamental terrain was child’s play compared to the horrors which lurked within the shadows of the Wood.

To start, as you’d come to realize over the last day and a half of your trek, the Netherwood was nothing but shadow. Though you’d surely traveled through the night and well into the following day, not a trace of daylight had pierced the thick canopy of leaves and twisted vines which loomed overhead. Your only indicator that day had, in fact, arrived, had been your sighting of a few songbirds quietly fluttering from tree to tree, as their songs swallowed by the deafening silence of the forest.

But the eerie quiet of the Wood was nothing compared to what you knew prowled within its depths.

You’d grown up hearing tales of the various beasts and cryptids that made the Netherwood their home – and made any unsuspecting traveler their meal. Your own parents had embarked on a dangerous trek into the Netherwood, seeking out a village on the other side rumored to have much-needed medication for your ailing grandfather, only to never be seen or heard from again. Your grandfather had succumbed to his illness not long after, though you’d often wondered whether his guilt and heartbreak hadn’t hastened his demise.

And so the Netherwood had taken your parents and your grandfather, leaving you with only your cherished grandmother as your family. Over the years, those who dared venture into the Wood often did not return, the dark of the forest swallowing them whole and leaving no trace of them behind.

Now, it was through this very Wood that you found yourself running, clinging to the desperate hope that perhaps you’d find this mysterious Huntsman and be saved, though the sluggishness that had entered your exhausted limbs seemed to suggest that you were more likely to be caught by your pursuers. And that was assuming you didn’t end up as something dinner’s before then.

You continued to stumble through the trees, ducking under various branches and batting away stringy spiderwebs, trying not to allow your frustration to get the better of you. After a while, the voices tracking you grew more and more silent, before the walls of the forest swallowed them completely, leaving you utterly alone.

As you shoved brush and thorns out of your way, the forest opened to give way to a small river, though it was barely more than a creek. It bubbled merrily, as though completely unaware of the horrors lurking behind the shadows of the ancient grove of trees.

Several lengths ahead, you spotted something crouched beside the water. Your first instinct was panic, thinking you’d stumbled across one of the nefarious creatures of the Wood, a meal being offered to it on a silver platter, but as your vision adjusted, you realized it was only a man, splashing his face with the creek’s cool reserve.

“A-are you the Huntsman?” You hated how timid your voice was, but truthfully, you’d been running for what felt like an eternity, and each snap of a twig in the Woods around had you on edge. You deserved to be frightened, dammit.

The man snorted before rising to his feet. “I am a Huntsman; whether I am the one you seek, I cannot say.”

He was taller than you and well-built. His tunic boasted a deep v at the chest exposing a vast swath of the man’s sculpted chest, the skin as scarred as his broad forearms. His breeches were by no means skintight, but it was clear his legs were also made from the same, sinewy muscle that covered the rest of him.

Idly, you wondered whether he was as scarred beneath his clothing as he was out of it.

He was handsome, there was no doubt, but his appearance was striking. He had a mop of silvery-white hair, parted slightly to cover the criss-cross of scars etched into the right side of his forehead. Below a pair of startling lilac eyes, you could just make out another jagged scar that extended from his right ear to the bridge of his nose.

He turned back to you, mouth pulled down in an annoyed grimace. “What is your business in the Wood, girl?”

His eyes roamed the crimson cloak draped around your shoulders, and you swore for a moment there was something akin to amusement glinting in his eyes, despite the severe set of his mouth.

You shuddered at the sharp intensity of his lilac gaze. “I seek a guide through the Wood — I need to get to one of the villages on the other side.”

Something in the forest snapped and you flinched, though it did not bother the Huntsman, who only narrowed his eyes at you.

“Are you being pursued?”

You nodded, your fingers tightening around the folds of your cloak and wrapping it tighter around your shivering frame. “I do not know how many, but they have dogs.”

The Huntsman nodded, stroking his chin in contemplation. “I can get you to the other side in two days; three at most, should your followers pose a problem.”

You were floored at how easily he accepted your request, even with the additional threat of being hunted like animals by Douma’s men, but you were grateful all the same.

“I have payment,” you started, hands shooting to dig through the small pouch fastened around your waist, but the wild Huntsman only shook his head.

“I do not take payment. I will escort you and then I won’t have to worry about any creatures of the Wood sniffing out your bones and getting too close.”

Charming, you groused in your head, though the implication nestled in his words sent another shudder down your spine.

“What is your name, girl?” The Huntsman’s voice pulled you back to him and the forest, his face expectant.

You gave him your name and felt a warmth spread through you as he repeated it, mouth mulling over each syllable like it was wrapped with velvet.

“You can call me Sanemi,” the Huntsman said, reaching for the hand-axe lying on its side by the riverbank. “Follow me.”

---

The Hunstman led you through a winding path that would have been untraceable had you not been watching the way Sanemi’s eyes marked certain landmarks — an errant tree branch here, a particular thorn bush there.

“Since you are being tracked, we need to move right away,” Sanemi had explained as you stumbled after him, your feet snaring over the various bumps and snarls of tree roots that jutted out from the forest floor. “But I need to gather a few things from my cabin. It’s just a little ways off, and then we will leave.”

Sanemi had largely ignored you for the rest of the trek, though he’d only cut his eyes back to you to ask a single question.

“Where did you get that cloak?”

You fingered the heavy edge of the ruby wool that your grandmother had fastened snug around your shoulders, its thick folds providing you protection against the biting chill of the autumn wind. “It is an heirloom. My grandmother said it would keep me safe.”

The Huntsman hummed quietly to himself. “That is one word for it, I suppose.”

“How do you mean?”

Sanemi slowed his pace so that you could catch up and walk beside him as he spoke.

“That cloak is enchanted. Have you not noticed the strange stitching along the hood?”

Your hands flew to grip the edge of the hood drawn over your head. Sure enough, beneath the pads of your fingertips, you could feel the odd swirls of thread forming some indiscernible shapes along the outermost portion of the cape’s top.

“I’d not; this was not my cloak to begin with. It was my Grandmother’s.” You did not know why the Huntsman’s tone made you feel self-conscious, as though you’d been too stupid to notice such an obvious variation in the cape snugly fastened around you. It wasn’t as though you’d been afforded a great deal to time to look over it, in those hurried moments before Grandmother had shoved you through her front door and into the Wood beyond.

Sanemi only shrugged as he continued on ahead, putting distance between you once more, but he called back one final time. “Red is a symbol for many things, girl. I hope your Grandmother at least warned you of that.”

----

Sanemi's cabin was small, but homely. You'd been waiting uneasily near the unlit fireplace at the center of the single-room cabin, unsure whether it would be considered ill-mannered for you to drape yourself across one of the overstuffed armchairs pointed towards the hearth, as the Huntsman milled about, gathering various supplies.

"Have you any preference for which village I take you to?" He called as he rifled through a sparsely-stocked cabinet, scooping up dried provisions into a small leather pouch.

You shook your head. "No, I wish only to get as far away from the Wood as possible."

Sanemi nodded, stalking past you to open another cupboard. Glinting against the dimming light outside, you saw the curved blade of an axe, sharp and polished.

"I can make do with that," the Huntsman said simply. "Though should we run into any weather, it may take longer than three days to reach the other side of the Wood."

You picked nervously at your nails. Any response you could have given him was cut off by the faint cacophany of voices somewhere in the distance.

Brow furrowed, Sanemi crossed the floor of his cabin to a small window and squinted through the fogged glass. Over his shoulder, you could spy the faint glow of fire making its way towards the cabin.

Torches.

You did not need to guess whose torches they were; there was only one reason for a band of men to be in the Netherwood at this hour.

"It's them," you whispered in horror, your heart sinking to your stomach. "The man who is after me -- they're his -- followers. I hesitate to call them men."

Sanemi's eyes narrowed as he glanced back out the window, and you swore you saw his nostrils flare, as though scenting the air.

He gripped you by your forearm, tugging you further into his cabin. “We don’t have much time until they come knocking. I think I can hold them off — but you have to trust me.”

You looked over the wild man, from the thick, silvery scars seared into the rippled muscles of his forearms to the thinner, more delicate scars which crossed half his face, swallowing down any fear you’d had of the huntsman upon first stumbling upon him by the river.

You’d been scared of him, but you feared the fate awaiting you at the hands of Douma and his cronies far more; and so, you were desperate enough to place your life in Sanemi’s rough, calloused hands.

“I trust you,” you vowed, though your voice trembled slightly. “Please just don’t let them take me.”

Something in Sanemi’s eyes tightened as he looked over you, but he nodded, hands reaching for the small pouch strapped to his upper thigh.

“I’m sure you’re going to protest what I’m about to do,” he said quickly, producing a small hunting knife from the pocket. “But I need you to believe me when I say this is the only way.”

“Take off your cloak.” Sanemi ordered, standing tall before you, hand out in waiting.

Your hands flew hesitantly to the metal clasp resting just below the hollow of your throat. “But my grandmother said —“

“I know what your grandmother said, girl, but I’m telling you, that cloak will do you no good indoors. It is only effective out in the Wood.”

You could tell the huntsman’s patience was wearing thin, but still, you hesitated.

Sanemi huffed impatiently. “I swear to you I will return it the moment they leave, but you must remove it now. They will use it to track your scent.”

You shuddered as your fingers quickly freed the small latch, and the crimson wool draped around your shoulders loosened. With some hesitancy, you held your cloak out to the huntsman, who balled the fabric up tight before crossing the floor of his cabin, shoving it into a small armoire and behind several hung pelts and well-worn leathers.

Sanemi was before you once more before you could blink. “Turn around,” he ordered, twirling the knife in his hand to motion you to spin and put your back to him.

You complied without protest, hands twiddling nervously before you, until you heard the unmistakeable sound of fabric tearing at your back.

The corset worn over the cotton layers of your dress loosened and fell to the cabin floor, it’s ribboned ties neatly severed where they’d been laced at your back.

“What in the devil —,” you began hotly, arms jumping to cross over your unsupported chest as you twisted to glare at the huntsman.

A warm hand firmly pushed your shoulder, keeping you facing forward. “Hold still, woman,” Sanemi barked, and the heat at your back disappeared for a moment as you felt him kneel behind you.

To your horror, you felt the outermost layer of your dress lift up and away from you as Sanemi rose, bringing the garment up over your head.

“I asked you to help me, you dog!” You squealed, your attempts to squirm away from the mannerless huntsman at your back futile. “Not strip me bare to do with as you please!”

Behind you, Sanemi gave a great snort. “Helpin’ you is exactly what I’m doing, if you’d shut up for one second.”

Left in nothing but your thin, cotton shift, you silently wondered whether you should’ve taken your chances and continued your trek through the Wood. Surely, being eaten by one of the Netherwood’s more nefarious creatures of horror was preferable to being stripped nude by a half-wild brute in his isolated cabin.

Your musings were cut short, however, as a firm hand wrapped around your forearm and tugged you towards the back of the cabin, where a small doorway closed off the hut’s only other room.

Sanemi kicked the door open revealing a surprisingly large bed, draped in blankets made of the furs of several different animals.

“N-no —mmph!” Your protest was cut off by Sanemi’s free hand as it clamped over your mouth as he hissed at you to shush.

Over the sound of your thudding heart and hard breath as you planted against the huntsman’s palm, you heard the faint but unmistakable sound of male laughter and jeers, cruel and cold.

“They will be here any moment,” Sanemi said lowly, and he removed the hand from your mouth in favor of shoving you none too gently into the small bedroom. Before you could speak, the huntsman gripped you around the waist and tossed you effortlessly onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly against the soft plush.

“Get under the covers and lay face-down in the pillows. Let your hair cover you.”

Scrambling up against the headboard, you looked back to your savior or your villain — you’d not yet decided under which category he fell — but saw that he was already standing back in the doorway, jaw tense and his eyes trained on the front door of his cabin.

He glanced back to you only once. “And move that thing off to your shoulders. Make yourself appear as though you’re indecent.”

With that, the huntsman quickly shut the door to his bedroom, just as a fist pounded against the wood of the door outside.

You kicked your way under the many pelts adorning the bed, savoring their warmth against your chilled skin. Remembering Sanemi’s final warning, you tugged the sleeves of your shift off your shoulders, concealing it and the rest of your body below the soft fur blankets.

The front door of the cabin opened, and you buried your face into one of the pillows resting against the headboard, begging the comforting scent of forest pine and cedar to calm your raging pulse.

“How can I help you gentlemen this evening?” Sanemi called, and you almost laughed at how cordial he sounded, as though he hadn’t just cut your dress from you like a brute.

Any smile you had was immediately wiped from your face at the cold, steely voice which answered him. “We’re searching for a woman. She belongs to someone who is eager to get her back.”

You balled the pelts below you in your fists, teeth grinding. Of course, you’d never actually agreed to marrying Douma, and yet the beast felt entitled to claim ownership over you, as though you were no better than a piece of furniture.

Though, you supposed that wasn’t quite an accurate comparison. Furniture survived Douma; women did not.

“Is that so?” Sanemi’s hardened tone sent shivers down your spine, and you wondered whether his face matched the stony, scathing cadence of his voice. “Well unfortunately for you boys, it’s just me and the wife here. And you’ve interrupted us.”

“Our apologies,” the scout said, though it did not sound as though he was sorry at all. “But you won’t mind us taking a peak? Just t make sure you and your wife don’t have a visitor.”

Sanemi’s answering snarl was soft, but it did not conceal the deadly threat contained within. “Surely you understand why I cannot let a number of strange men into my home, while my wife is indisposed.”

You had to give him credit; Sanemi sounded every bit the dominating, over-protective husband he was pretending to be.

There was a beat before Sanemi sighed, his irritation almost convincing. “Make it quick. And do not enter the bedroom.”

There was a shuffle of feet, heavy and booted, that crossed the threshold of the cabin, and the hair on your skin rose at the charge of violence which filled the air. Breath caught in your throat, you buried your face deeper into the huntsman’s mattress and prayed his ruse would be successful.

The door to the bedroom banged open, startling you with a squeal as you ruched deeper below the pelts.

“I told you to stay out of the bedroom,” Sanemi’s voice almost sounded bored, but it was thankfully close. Your eyes slid closed as you willed your heart to slow its drumbeat against your sternum as the resulting silence hung thick in the air.

“Our apologies,” the apparent leader of Douma’s band of henchmen bit out, his tone acerbic, and his frustration evident. The bedroom door slammed shut once more, and the heavy footsteps quickly made their way back through the cabin and out the front door.

All remained silent in the huntsman’s cabin for several, long moments, and you did not dare to rise from the bed that had become your sanctuary.

After what felt like an eternity, the door to Sanemi’s sleeping chamber pushed open, the light from the main room of the cabin flooding in.

“They are gone,” the huntsman said simply. “It is safe for you to come back out.”

You turned over and rose from his bed, quickly tugging the sleeves of your thin shift back up over your bare shoulders, if not to preserve the last shred of your modesty that the huntsman before you hadn’t cut away.

You were startled by his appearance in the doorway. Though his eyes remained fixed on the wood floor of the cabin, you saw that the man before you was nearly as stripped as you were.

Somehow, in the few precious seconds between him throwing you onto his bed and Douma’s men barging through the cabin door, Sanemi had discarded his lined shirt, leaving everything from the waist-up bare. The only garment which remained on him were his deerskin breeches, and Sanemi had somehow undone its front laces, loosening their fit around his hips. Between the undone cords, you spied a thin trail of silver hair that begun just below his navel and disappeared below the seam of his pants.

It was admirable the dedication Sanemi had shown in perfecting your ruse. To the untrained eye, it truly looked as though Douma’s men had indeed interrupted a husband and his wife as they’d been engaged in acts you’d been told were reserved for the marital bed, the disheveled state of Sanemi’s breeches giving the distinct appearance of having been just barely tugged over naked hips.

The thought made your mouth run dry, and something hot flared in your belly.

Sanemi ignored your apparent ogling of him, as he produced his discarded tunic from the floor where he'd tossed it and shrugged it back over his head.

Wordlessly, he gathered the shredded remains of your corset and handed it to you, keeping his gaze averted to allow you to redress. You managed to pull on your outer skirts back over your shirt, but you fingered the torn strap of your corset.

“You ruined it,” you said, nose wrinkling as you punched it between your thumb and index finger. “I cannot lace it when you’ve torn the stays.”

Sanemi frowned, and if you hadn’t known better, you would have thought he looked slightly apologetic for the state of your outer-corset.

“Corset woes aside, we need to go now, if we are to have any chance of getting you to another village before your fiancé’s men catch up to us.” Sanemi grabbed the leather satchel he'd been packing before Douma's men had interrupted and began filling it once more.

You scowled. “He is not my fiancé,”

“Your keeper, then.” Sanemi amended. The Huntsman stalked back over to the armoire in his sitting room and wrenched the worn doors open, pulling out several pieces of cloth.

“Here,” he said gruffly, tossing you a balled wad of crimson wool. “As promised.”

You accepted the cloak with a small, uttered thanks, and fastened it quickly around your shoulders. The Huntsman then turned to dig through a small cabinet, returning before you with a small spool of sturdy, leather cord.

He held it out to you. “For your corset,” he said gruffly, his cheeks slightly pink. Feeling your own blush creep up your neck, you accepted the offering. Picking the torn garment up once more, you slid it over your shoulders and used Sanemi’s cords to lace the front together.

Truthfully, the finished product wasn’t half bad; the cord was long enough to cross all the way up to the top of the corset, with enough leftover to allow you to pull it and secure it in place around your bust. You tied off the cord with a pleased nod, before looking back to Sanemi in gratitude. Before you could properly thank him, the Huntsman thrust a small basket into your newly freed hand.

"Provisions. For the journey." He said by way of explanation, and you nodded, nestling the handle into the crook of your arm.

Without so much as a glance around the cabin, Sanemi wrenched the door open and allowed you to pass through the entryway first, pausing behind you only to tightly latch the door shut.

And the two of you set off into the Netherwood.

———

You were no time-keeper by any means, especially in a place like the Wood where daylight was hard enough to find; but it felt like hours had passed since you last spoke to the Huntsman, and the silence was pressing heavily upon you — especially the deeper you ventured into the dark of the Wood.

Though Sanemi had been walking ahead of you, you took it upon yourself to increase your pace, until you walked astride with him.

“How long have you been guiding others through the Netherwood?” You asked lightly, hoping that some — any — conversation you could have with the stoic woodsman would distract you from the odd growls and noises concealed within the forest’s shadows.

“A while.” Sanemi’s answer was as brisk as his pace, and you struggled to match it.

“Have you lived here your whole life, or are you from one of the villages nearby?” You pressed, scanning your memory as you tried to recall whether there had ever been a boy with white hair and a scarred face in your village.

“No.”

You waited for him to elaborate, but Sanemi offered no further explanation. You sighed and fell back behind him; if this was to be his attitude the entire journey, you were in for a long few days.

The pair of you had traveled for what felt like several more hours without a word before the silence began to irritate you. You sped up your pace until your stride matched the Huntsman’s, walking with him side by side.

“Why do you live alone in the Netherwood?” You twirled the basket around your hand as the pair of you walked, the nerves you’d felt upon first starting the journey through the Wood having long since abated, in no short part due to the presence of the Huntsman and his axe by your side.

Sanemi did not turn towards you, his eyes remaining fixed on the bramble ahead. “Why did you venture into the Wood alone?”

You groaned. “Is this how our entire journey is to go? Either you give me mono-syllable answers, or every time I ask a question, you avoid answering by responding with your own?”

“That depends, do you intend to keep asking me questions?”

You barely resisted the urge to whack the sullen Huntsman with your basket. “Unbelievable,” you grumbled. “Your time here in the Wood has turned you into a curmudgeonly hermit.”

Sanemi snorted. “You assume I wasn’t one to begin with.”

“I can’t imagine someone who helps travelers cross the Wood was always so churlish and miserable.” You shot back.

The Huntsman remained quiet for a moment, though his air did not carry the same cold standoffishness that you’d come to understand meant he was ignoring you. Rather, Sanemi seemed to be in thought.

“It has been nearly four years,” he said after a long while. “Since I began helping travelers cross the Wood.”

Your eyes widened. “Four years?” That was an awfully long time to risk one’s neck for the sake of strangers — some of whom, you realized, may not have been all that good.

Sanemi nodded and you whistled. “I’m sure you’ve seen many kinds of people attempting to traverse through the Wood.”

“There are only two types of travelers,” Sanemi disagreed. “Those who live to make it to my door, and those who do not. I try not to pry into the privacies of those who do manage to find me.” He cut his eyes at you, accusingly. “And usually, they aren’t so eager to pry into mine.”

You ignored the jab, though it bruised your ego more than you wanted to admit. “You don’t like people, yet you’ve crafted your entire existence around serving them.” You could not stop the amused edge in your words. “It is quite ironic, you have to admit.”

Sanemi refused to dignify you with a response, and so the first leg of your journey continued in relative silence.

The stifling quiet that extended between the Huntsman and you finally subsided once Sanemi announced you’d be stopping for the night and making camp. He’d been quick to notice your unease as you’d cast your eyes nervously around the shadowed trees of the Wood, assuring you that you all were in an area less-frequented by the various terrors that called the forest home.

“I will sit and keep watch,” Sanemi said as you’d curled up against the leaves of the forest floor, your red cloak pulled tight around your frame to block out the autumn night’s chill. “So try and sleep.”

“You are asking me to put a great deal of trust in you, Huntsman,” you said softly, but in truth, you did not feel nearly as afraid of him as you perhaps had earlier in the day.

He snorted, dismissively. “I’ve had you in my bed already, have I not? If I was going to harm you, girl, I would’ve already done so.”

Something tightened in his eyes as he dropped your gaze. “And I would never do such a thing to a woman.”

There was a quiet pain in his vow, such that you did not think his words were entirely meant for your ears. But they comforted you nonetheless, and so, still facing the handsome and mysterious Huntsman, you allowed yourself to relax enough to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

---

The journey was taking longer than Sanemi originally believed.

Three days into your travels with the Huntsman, and you’d barely reached the halfway point in the Wood. Though, that was not due to any fault of Sanemi’s; there’d been a few times when he’d stopped mid-stride, eyes narrowed on some unseen thing deep within the forest that you could not see, but concerned him enough to change course. When you asked, the Huntsman had only grumbled that he’d heard suspicious movement ahead, and that he knew whatever it was, it likely wasn’t human.

You didn’t bother to question his judgment. After all, it was Sanemi who was the expert in traversing through the Wood. You, however, had spent the better part of three days understanding how utterly helpless you were without him.

You hadn’t meant to stumble across it.

You’d only meant to go relieve yourself behind a tree — a simple evergreen, that had looked innocent and unassuming enough.

As you’d quickly learned, however, upon squatting near the tree’s base, it was anything but innocent. For no sooner had you moved to pull your skirts out of the way had you felt a spiny hand close around your forearm, its knife-sharp fingers digging into your flesh.

The withered, bony had was connected to a sinewy arm, covered in ridged, black skin that made up the panting, salivating bat-like creature that had managed to camouflage itself against the bark of the tree.

You’d taken one look at the rows of sharp, yellow teeth and screamed loud enough to startle the dead.

Loud enough to bring a certain Huntsman crashing through the brush, axe clutched tightly in hand, his eyes wild and bright.

“Duck,” he’d barked once, and somehow you’d managed to wrench yourself to the side of the devil as Sanemi’s weapon buried deep into the creature’s face, the beast releasing your arm and stumbling back with a pitiful gurgle before it dropped to the floor.

You’d hardly had the chance to collect yourself before the Huntsman was stomping over to you, yanking you up by your bicep and dragging you away from the nefarious little tree.

“A goddamned hidebehind,” he furiously spat. “Of all things to provoke, you choose a fucking hidebehind.”

Sanemi ignored your slight protests at being manhandled back to the path he’d identified as leading out of the Wood, too lost in his own raging assessment of you.

“How the devil a pretty little thing like you managed to make it to my door in one piece is the only thing that makes me consider there may be a higher power, given how foolishly reckless you act in the Woods where there’s no shortage of creatures that would want to devour you —“

The Huntsman continued his rant, but your ears only picked up on a single fragment of his ramblings.

“You think me pretty?” It was silly, yet the notion that the devilishly handsome Huntsman accompanying you found you worth looking at made something in your stomach flutter.

Sanemi shot you a withering glare. “You may think me a miserable recluse, girl, but even I have eyes.”

You didn’t know why, but the comment made you smile for the rest of the night, a curious warmth blooming in your chest.

----

You settled for the night among a small circle of trees. Sanemi had helped you shake down a bed of pine needles from a nearby tree, allowing the fragrant nettles to form a soft bed for you against the forest floor.

You watched him repeat the process to make his own bed, your eyes curious. "You seem to have a great deal of experience with this," you mused.

Sanemi produced a single apple from his pouch and sliced it in half with a small hunting knife he kept strapped to his hip. He tossed you one half before he stretched out on his pine needle bed, propping up one cheek on his fist as he faced you. "I s'ppose sleeping outdoors is something of a family trait."

That piqued your curiosity. Though Sanemi had not divulged any details of his personal life with you, you'd assumed he'd been a true loner in his cabin in the Wood.

“You speak as though you still have family,” You bit into your half of the fruit, chewing slowly as you thought. “Do you?”

Sanemi nodded. “No parents to speak of, but a younger brother — a few years younger than you. Still a boy, though in a man’s body.” He scowled. “The little brat has outgrown me.”

You smiled at the obvious fondness belying the irritation on his face. “A boy bigger than you? I find that hard to believe.”

Your gentle praise had the intended effect of making the Huntsman look slightly smug, before the same sour look passed his face. “He has grown slightly taller than I, and by all accounts is still growing. I have a feeling he will try and hold it over my head the next time I see him.”

You wondered if Sanemi’s younger brother would literally do so, and the thought made you smile.

“You said the next time you see him, but you’ve said you have no parents — where does he live, if not with you?”

Sanemi grimaced, chucking the last of his apple core behind his shoulders. He remained quiet for a long moment before answering.

“He lives with a friend; he can take better care of him than I can right now.”

Something about the Huntsman’s tone made it clear the topic was a sensitive subject for the young Huntsman, and so you elected not to press the matter further.

“And what of you?” Sanemi said gruffly, surprising you with his willingness to engage in conversation as the two of you continued your trek. “I know you said you had a Grandmother, as she was the one to give you that.”

He nodded pointedly at your cloak, and you saw that curious heat enter his eyes once more at they combed over the scarlet wool draped around your frame. But the mention of your grandmother caused a lump to form in your throat that took you several moments to work around, the damning prickle of tears stinging your eyes.

“I do,” you said hoarsely after a moment. “Though I do not know if she survived after helping me escape Douma. Even if she did, I know I shall never see her again.”

Though your vision had become blurred by your tears, you could have sworn you saw Sanemi’s hand twitched towards you at the sound of the wobble in your voice.

“Douma,” he repeated. “Is that the person you’re fleeing from?”

You nodded, exhaling a shaky sigh. “He claims to be my fiancé but I accepted no such proposal.”

Sanemi leaned against the wood of a tree opposite from you, arms folding across his chest. “Then he does not know what it means to be a fiancé,”

You gave a watery chuckle. “No, I suppose he does not.” You chewed on your lip for a moment. “But Douma does not ask; he demands and he expects. His offer was not really a request for my hand — it was a warning that he would collect me to do with as he pleased.”

Sanemi tensed. “What do you mean by that?”

You combed your fingers through the tangled tresses of your hair, and anxious habit you’d had for as long as you could remember. “In the last three years, Douma has taken four young women from the village to be his wife; every one of them has since disappeared.”

The Huntsman sucked in a shocked breath. “What has happened to them? Has anyone searched?”

You smiled ruefully. “I do not know; no one does. Search parties were dispensed each time, but those who looked came back empty-handed.” Your eyes remained fixed on the small, flickering flame of the campfire. “He claimed the first three ran away into the Wood; said they’d left him to be with a lover.”

You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, seeking comfort in your grandmother’s cloak. “Quite the coincidence, is it not?”

“Quite nefarious,” Sanemi remarked darkly, shaking his head. “And what of the fourth wife?”

Your head dropped. “My dear friend, Kotoha,” you felt the tears begin to gather in your eyes once more. “She was pregnant when Douma demanded her hand, but he did not appear to care. She gave birth a few months later — a beautiful baby boy named Inosuke.”

“She seemed happy for a while after that, and I thought perhaps Douma had been telling the truth; by all accounts, he was kind towards her,” you continued, fighting the shiver trying to lick its way up your spine. “But then Kotoha disappeared, and Inosuke, too.”

Sanemi stiffened at that. “When was this?” He asked suddenly, his tone urgent.

You looked up at him, startled. “Just a week before I found you.”

Sanemi swore lowly, his hand dragging over his face. At your questioning look, he continued.

“A few days before we met, I was leaving to check on a series of caves that I frequent in the east,” he began. “I was half a kilometer from your village when I —,” he hesitated. “Spotted a few men, dragging something through the trees. They seemed to come from your village.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Did you see —?” Your question choked off as your voice cracked.

Sanemi shook his head. “All that was left was a pile of bones. Just one person’s. But there were shreds of cloths mixed in,” Sanemi’s mouth twisted down in a snarl. “Clothes belonging to a young child. But no sign of their bones among the adult’s.”

A cold, clammy sweat broke out across your forehead. “But Kotoha was hardly missing a week — surely that’s not enough time for her to be reduced to bones?”

Sanemi opened his mouth but closed it before he spoke, his eyebrows knitting together as he struggled for words.

“I have seen things in the Wood that are capable of stripping flesh in a matter of minutes,” he said carefully, eyes trained on your face. “It would not be unheard of.”

You felt the blood drain from your face as nausea wracked through you. “Oh gods,” you moaned, arms shakily coming to rest upon your knees to brace your head as it fell into your hands. “Oh gods — Kotoha.”

You remained like that for several moments, viciously fighting against the roiling of your stomach, desperate to keep down what meager rations you’d managed to eat.

Sanemi called your name, soft and gentle. You waited a moment, focusing on taking several, steadying breaths before you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

“So that is to be my fate once he catches me,” you whispered in horror. “To be reduced to nothing more than a pile of bones and tossed into the Wood like garbage.” You shuddered as another wave of nauseous dread sluiced through you. “And I cannot even fathom what will be done to me before then.”

“It will not,” Sanemi’s answering snarl was soft but vicious, and it broke through the cold terror threatening to knock you off your axis. “I will get you out of this forest and you will be free. Mark my words.”

“Do not make promises you cannot keep, Sanemi.” You warned, your eyes still wide, haunted. “If he catches me, he will do worse to you; death will be a kindness he will withhold.”

Despite the solemnity of your words, Sanemi only scoffed. “I assure you, he would do no such thing.” He looked to you, eyes serious. “And I would kill him before he had the chance to so much as look your direction.”

You wanted to dismiss his words as nothing more than the bragging of an overconfident, idiotic man. But something in both Sanemi’s tone and the way he was leaning against the tree — one foot resting causally against the bark, the other stretched out before him, supporting his weight, with his arms folded across his chest — made you think perhaps Sanemi’s confidence was more than mere bravado.

Even though you knew you shouldn't, you took comfort in it; in him.

"You're a good man, Sanemi," you said quietly. "Better than most."

Sanemi scoffed, shaking his head, but the shadow over his face betrayed his own internal turmoil. "I am not half the man you'd like me to be."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, head tilting in question. “Do you care what I think of you?” When the Huntsman did not answer, you pressed. “You worry that I think ill of you — why?”

Sanemi, at best, was confusing. Maddening. He spoke to you gruffly, as though his years in the Wood had made him forget all semblance of decorum and basic human decency.

Yet, there was something else, too; though you hadn’t much experience being desired by men, Sanemi had shown you a particular level of care. He always handed you your dried rations first, ensuring you’d eat your fill before he; he always offered a hand to help you over a particularly tricky stretch of terrain, carrying your basket for you without so much as you having to ask.

Then, there’d been the way he’d cradled you close earlier in the day, when you stumbled upon the poor man whose body had been mangled and half-eaten by one of the Wood’s inhabitants. He hadn’t needed to tuck your head against his chest like he did, holding you tight as he spun the two of you out of range, to avoid joining the lost soul whose entrails were strewn across the forest floor; he hadn’t needed to comfort you and wipe your frightened tears.

But he had.

The realization hit you like a boulder. “You feel protective of me,” you murmured in awe, your eyes locked onto him even as he shifted under the weight of your stare.

Sanemi tried to scowl, but it came off as more a wince. “I feel protective towards any woman who is being treated as something to abuse. What your fake-fiancé has done is abhorrent.”

His voice quieted. “You do not deserve that fate. You deserve to find something good — something that will make you happy.”

You hummed, pretending you were in thought as you began to slowly close the distance between you. “I would like to be happy,” you conceded.

“You should be,” Sanemi answered.

“I have felt happy here in the Wood,” you continued. “Have you, Huntsman? Felt happy here in the Netherwood, I mean?”

Sanemi swallowed hard. “Perhaps.”

You took another step. “Recently?”

“Recent enough,” Sanemi watched you warily, his voice like gravel.

You clicked your tongue. “Have you enjoyed our time together? However brief?”

At this, Sanemi rolled his eyes. “You have certainly kept things interesting, when you’re not desperately trying to become a meal for some hungry beast.”

When you did not answer, Sanemi looked nervously back to you, and his voice softened. “Yes. I have enjoyed it.”

You felt like you were stripping him back, peeling back layers of sarcasm and steel that he’d carefully erected to keep himself from getting close — from caring.

But you were doing it; and he was letting you.

“And you think I’m pretty,” you added, taking another step towards him.

“Aye,” Sanemi croaked, his eyes fixed on your face, the the flicker of the small fire only adding to the heat blazing in his lilac gaze.

You drew up before him, the toes of your boots just touching his. “I find you quite pretty as well, Huntsman.”

Sanemi’s eyes closed, his shoulders tense. “I am to deliver you safely to the nearest village.” Lilac irises opened to meet yours and he looked at you gently; apologetically. “We cannot do this.”

You did not balk. “And if I wanted to stay with you?” You whispered, fingers coming to toy with the folds of his tunic. “What would you say then?”

Sanemi breathed out a soft sigh of your name, the syllables dripping like honey from his lips. “It is not possible, I’m afraid.”

You looked up at him through lowered eyelashes and noted how his gaze flicked down to your lips before back to your eyes. “Why?”

Sanemi’s hand gently brushed a few loose strands of hair back from your face, tucking them behind your ear, and you leaned into the warmth of his touch. “Because you are a beautiful, little lamb, and I am a wolf in a forest of beasts. You do not wish to spend your days here, in the darkness.”

“You cannot speak to what I want,” you challenged, your fingers rising to clench around his wrist, to hold his hand in place against the side of your head. “My life is my own now; I have no set path.”

“But I would like to travel down yours,” you added quietly, after a moment.

“It is not one open to transients,” Sanemi warned, though his other hand rose to rest against the dip in your waist, holding you against him.

You only shook your head. “I do not intend to be temporary, Sanemi. I wish to stay with you. I wish to help others as you have helped me.”

“I’ve yet to help you,” Sanemi said wryly. “Our bargain was that I deliver you to one of the villages on the other side of the Wood. We are still making that journey.”

You stretched up on your toes and boldly pressed your lips against the hollow of his throat, savoring the skipping pace of his heart beneath your mouth.

“A new bargain, then,” you offered. Sanemi said your name once, as though in warning, but when he did not levy any threat, you only continued, moving your lips up under his jaw.

“You get me to the other side of the Wood. If I still want to stay with you, then you will let me. If I don’t, we will part ways at the first village we come to.”

You’d kissed your way to his lips, but held back, allowing that final line to remain in place between you even as your resolve wavered against the force of your desire for him — for this Huntsman of the Netherwood.

Sanemi’s eyes fell to your lips, hovering so very closely to his own. “You assume I want you to stay,” he murmured, though he made no move to push you away. “You assume I want to look after a lamb forever.”

You smiled softly. “Even a lamb can help take care of a wolf.”

Sanemi’s eyes were full of a wariness edged by the faintest trace of hope. “Aye, I suppose that’s true.” The hand against the side of your head fell to caress your cheek. “And as infuriating as I find you to be,” he leaned in close, his lips just barely touching yours. “I do think you quite beautiful, little Lamb.”

You surged forward with a breathy gasp, lips feverishly meeting his as you begged the Huntsman to consume you whole.

Sanemi responded with equal fervor, his arm locking tightly around your waist as the hand against your face tilted your head slightly to the right, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

You’d shared a few stolen kisses here and there in your youth with some of the village boys, but never before had you been kissed like this. Never before had you known the passion and all-consuming vigor that the Huntsman poured into you, as he walked the two of you back over roots and loose stones to press you against the roughened bark of a nearby tree.

No, those kisses had been child’s play. For the way Sanemi’s mouth moved against yours was enough to make you feel as though you’d been dipped in lantern oil and set aflame, and yet you could not find it within yourself to care that you were burning. Not when he molded you against the rigid planes of his body as though to absorb you into his being; not when his thigh slotted between yours, its muscle brushing against a sensitive spot between your legs that had you gasping and Sanemi groaning into your mouth.

As quickly as it began, it ended, Sanemi breaking away from your lips with a strangled pant as he leapt back, as though scalded by the inferno he’d lit within you.

There was something untamed in his gaze as he regarded you, his breath choppy as he collected himself. Still stunned by the ferocity with which he’d kissed you, your fingers jumped to your lips, noting the slight swelling now there.

“I was wrong about you,” Sanemi said breathlessly, his cheeks tinged an alluring shade of pink. “You may not be a lamb after all.”

Your fingers dropped from your lips as you raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I am a wolf?”

Sanemi shook his head, that wildness still blazing in his eyes. “No, not a wolf.” His voice dropped to a purr as he regarded you with a look that made your thighs clench. “You are temptation given physical form.”

——-

Neither of you spoke of what transpired against the tree for several hours, though you’d managed to brush aside any lingering awkwardness with light conversation about Sanemi’s time in the Netherwood.

And, despite any lingering doubt as to the sincerity of your words he may have had, Sanemi seemed to naturally gravitate towards you, his hands never straying far from your form as you walked.

Truthfully, it made you giddy. You’d never experienced the thrill of another man’s touch while in the village, though Kotoha certainly hadn’t spared you any details. Vivid descriptions furtively whispered behind hands, however, were nothing compared to reality. Even Kotoha’s most blush-inducing tales paled in comparison to the electric flash you felt each time Sanemi’s warm hand gripped yours to steer you back from a particularly darkened corner of the woods, or the flutter in your stomach when he lifted you easily up and over unsteady ground, his hands always lingering for a spare second on your waist or the small of your back as you settled.

It became harder to imagine leaving him once you reached the end of the Wood. With each passing hour, your conviction that you would remain alongside the mysterious Huntsman grew all the stronger.

The pair of you were resting near a blackberry bush, you perched on a small boulder while Sanemi sharpened his axe, his hand running the small whetting stone against the curve of the blade with precision.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question broke the comfortable silence before you could think better of it.

Sanemi’s sharpening stone paused briefly before continuing along the curve of his axe. “Once,” he said, gruffly. “Though we were so young, I don’t know if you could properly call it that.”

You sat up, your curiosity piqued. “Where are they now?”

The Huntsman hesitated. “She is long-gone. Died here, in the Wood.”

Your heart clenched. “I’m sorry. I cannot imagine that grief.”

Sanemi did not respond, instead refocusing his attention back to his blade. “It was around four years ago, now.”

Four years ago. Around the time Sanemi had begun escorting lost souls through the Netherwood.

“Have you been in the Wood since?” You asked gently, trying to focus on a loose thread handing from your cloak so that he would not feel pressured by your stare.

Sanemi nodded. “I think,” he cleared his throat. “I think I started helping others as a way to honor her. She was kind that way.”

You smiled at that. “She sounds wonderful; and you do right by her memory.”

The Huntsman said nothing more, his silence more contemplative as he finished sharpening his weapon.

By the time the pair of you set back off on your path through the Wood, the morning fog had somewhat subsided, though it’s mist lingered in the denser sections of the forest.

“Is it normal to not have encountered many of the Wood’s creatures?” You bit down on the shudder you felt at the memory of the partially-eaten corpse you’d encountered a few days prior. “I feel as though we only see the aftermath of the beasts, rather than the monsters themselves.”

Sanemi smirked quietly to himself, though you did not know what he found amusing about your question. “I suppose that cloak is keeping them at bay, Lamb.”

You rolled your eyes, knocking your shoulder playfully against his. “Perhaps they’re frightened of the big bad Huntsman,”

“Perhaps. I’m quite scary.”

Your hand found his. “Not at all. In fact, I find you quite —“

Your thought was cut off, however, as Sanemi tore his hand from yours to hold an arm out before you, stilling you. You’d traveled with the Huntsman long enough to know he was telling you to be quiet while he listened, his ears far more discerning amidst the silent noise of the forest than yours.

Only it was not silent; in the distance, you could hear raised voices, yelling, and the distinct howls of several hounds.

Your eyes found Sanemi’s, and you were certain yours were as wide as his, as your heart began to thunder against your chest.

There was a strange melodic chant rising above the cluster of voices some distance through the trees, and you both turned back and strained to listen.

As the jeering voices and barking of dogs drew nearer, it became clearer what was being said — what thing those voices were loudly whooping and mocking amidst the excited titter undercutting their bloodlust.

Your name.

Douma’s men had picked up your trail, and they’d caught up.

“Run.” Sanemi ordered, tearing the leather satchel from his shoulders and looping the strap around yours. “Do you remember which direction north is?”

Eyes wide and limbs trembling, you nodded, your breath hitched in your throat as every instinct within you was overtaken by sheer terror. Sanemi placed his hands on your shoulders, squeezing firmly to get your attention back on him.

“Run north,” he repeated. “Follow the river and do not stop. It is against the wind, so it should be harder to track your scent,” Sanemi’s eyes darted up over your shoulder, narrowing as the unseen force drew nearer. “I will catch up to you. Do not drop that satchel.”

Your mouth opened and closed several times as you gaped at him, fear, so deep and primal, engrained in your every nerve as you realized he intended to send you deeper into the Netherwood. Alone.

“I cannot — Sanemi,” you begged, your hand gripping his forearm in a desperate attempt to stay close to him, your protector.

Gently, Sanemi removed your hand from him. “Y/N, I promise I will find you soon. I need to get them,” he jerkily nodded backwards to the voices and dog howls drawing closer and closer to you in the distance. “Off our trail.

You shook your head, only trembling harder. To separate surely would mean one, if not both of you would die, and you could not bear to leave him to deal with the onslaught of Douma’s men alone.

“I promise,” you’d not realized Sanemi’s hands had cupped your face until you felt the press of his forehead against yours. “I will find you. Now go.” He urged, and with a slight shove, Sanemi sent you stumbling in the direction you assumed was North.

With a great deal of reluctance, your legs began to move as you hurried over fallen branches and twisted roots, every pump of your legs growing stronger as your fear intensified.

You hadn’t known how many men were in pursuit of you, and you’d left Sanemi alone with only an axe to protect himself.

You’d as good as doomed him.

But you kept running in the direction you thought was north, eyes frantically trying to track the watery sunlight filtering through the trees.

The moment you’d chances scanning for the sun meant you did not see the thick, twisting root that had broken across the forest floor, not until your foot became entangled and you were sent sprawling across the dirt.

Moaning slightly, you scrambled up, refusing to acknowledge the faint bruising pain you felt in your ankle as you moved to keep running.

A snap of a tree branch froze you in your tracks. As stupid as you were, you turned towards the source of the sound, dread coiling in your gut. A shadow emerged from behind one of the ancient trees of the Wood, clutching something shiny.

A sword; long, wicked and cruelly sharp, and yet somehow, the blade frightened you far less than its wielder, for his face was familiar.

You’d grown up alongside it, after all.

“Well, well,” the boy — man — cooed at you. “We’ve been looking for you for quite sometime, you know?”

You took a step back, eager to put whatever distance you could between yourself and the smirking village boy who looked at you like you were his next meal.

“K-Kaigaku,” you stuttered in disbelief. “What are you doing? We were — we were friends.”

The boy’s laugh made your blood curdle. “Don’t mock me,” he shifted his sword to rest against his other shoulder as his free hand twirled a small dagger. “I only align myself with the strong, and you are nothing but a weak and pathetic little mouse.”

“But Lord Douma,” Kaigaku mused, his grin offset by the malice alighting his eyes. “Lord Douma is strong; powerful. I am loyal to him, not you.”

“Lord Douma?” You repeated, your voice as sharp as the blade glinting in the faint daylight as the boy before you tilted it back and forth. “Is that what he’s told you to call him? What, pray tell, is he lord of — being an egomaniacal, fatuous, greedy murderer?”

Kaigaku’s smirk unfurled into an ugly sneer as he shifted to point his sword at you. “Watch your mouth, girl.”

“And what of Kotoha?” You demanded, your anger an untamable fire that burned in your veins. “You were sweet on her once — did she deserve her fate?”

There was no sign of that fondness in the cruelty which lined Kaigaku’s face as he spat, “She spread her legs for some man like a whore and bore his bastard. Lord Douma only made sure she met an end befitting of her filth.”

“You vile, wretched creature,” you swore. “Damn you! Damn him!”

That hair-raising smirk reappeared as Kaigaku stepped towards you. “I cannot wait to see what Lord Douma has planned for you. You should’ve seen what he did to your beloved Granny, the hag.”

Your blood turned cold and a stone like lead settled in the pit of your stomach. You’d assumed, of course, that your grandmother had paid with her life in helping you escape, but you could not bear to hear the ways she’d suffered in exchange for your life.

Somewhere, in the depths of the Netherwood, a wolf howled.

“Shall I tell you all about it, Y/N?” Kaigaku taunted. “Shall I tell you how your dear Granny screamed as Lord Douma flayed her alive, piece by piece? How she sobbed for your grandfather? For you?”

Tears burned, as hot as acid in your eyes as you shook. “Stop,”

“It was quite pathetic, really,” Kaigaku sighed. “She went rather quickly. I suppose that’s what happens when you play with old crones — their pathetic little hearts can’t withstand the fun.”

You were at a loss; part of you wanted to lunge for the boy, to sink your nails into his eyes and rip, to tear him limb from limb as you screamed with rage until even the beasts of the Netherwood could not tell whether you were human or kin.

But on the other hand, you were just a woman, who’d spent the last five days in the Netherwood and didn’t have so much as a dagger with which to defend yourself.

And Sanemi told you to run.

You remembered as a boy, Kaigaku had been slow; always the last person to finish a race or outrun the seeker in hide and seek.

You, on the other hand, had always been faster; you could outrun him.

You had to. You would.

There was a roaring in your head as your mind disconnected from your body and you turned to flee.

“Don’t you run from me, bitch!” Kaigaku thundered after you, but you did not slow; you hurtled over root and rubble, adrenaline pumping hot and fast to your legs as you ran.

You’d thought, for one blissful moment, that perhaps you had a chance of evading him, when a silent whirring cut through the silent forest air.

Pain, blinding pain, exploded somewhere from the side of your thigh, bringing you to your knees as you cried out. Rolling over, your stomach dropped at the unmistakable sensation of blood dripping down your leg, hot and fast.

Behind you, you heard the thud of Kaigaku’s knife cluttering to the forest floor.

“Hn, I missed,” the boy scoffed, eyes roaming over you as you bled. “No matter, you can’t run on a wounded leg, can you little girl?”

Ignoring the dizzying lash of pain that flared in your leg, you scrambled backwards in a crawl, desperate to put some — any — distance between you and your captor.

“Lord Douma only said to bring you back alive,” Kaigaku hummed, drawing his sword once more. “He did not say to bring you back unscathed.”

Kaigaku put the tip of his blade right at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. You glared defiantly up at him, though your show of courage was a mere facade as you beheld the salacious glint reflected in his beady eyes.

“I think I shall take my time with you,” Kaigaku decided, using his blade to tilt your head back and forth. “After all there is no one here who shall care if you scream; in fact, I prefer you do.”

Your eyes widened, what remaining fight you still had wavering.

Alone. You were completely and utterly alone.

Sanemi had not come; either he was still fighting the other men sent by your cursed fiancé, or he’d been slain, and now the others were making their way to you, to take you back to Douma and let him do as he pleased.

You were going to die; but you would not die by his hands. Your eyes lowered to the blade still pressed under your chin, its tip grazing against the delicate skin of your throat, teasingly.

Kaigaku’s blade was sharp, even if it’s wielder not; it would not take much effort to slit your own throat on its edge, and it would take even less to bleed out upon the Netherwood’s earthen floor.

Before you could move, however, Kaigaku’s sword lowered, its tip teasingly tracing along the front seams of your dress.

“Perhaps we could make this interesting,” Kaigaku smirked, tracing up the valley between your breasts. “He said only to ensure you were untainted for him; he did not say we couldn’t have a taste.”

Your stomach churned with a toxic mixture of both rage and dread as the sword cut through the first stitch of your bodice. You tried to gather your feet beneath you, enough so that you could launch yourself forward and impale yourself on his blade, when a low growl sounded from behind your assailant.

Kaigaku, too enthralled by his slow torture of you, did not see the mass of white fur and bloodstained teeth leap from the shadows of the Wood; not until it was too late.

You looked on in horror as a large beast lunged for the boy from your village, tackling him to the side, his sword arm severed at his shoulder from a single swipe of the monster’s mighty claw. Kaigaku only had time to scream once before the nightmare’s massive maw clamped around his neck and tore, spraying his blood and bits of gore across the forest floor.

Your breath caught and died in your throat, helpless from where you were still splayed pathetically across the dirt as you watched the animal paint the Netherwood with remnants of Kaigaku.

The monster turned on its haunches towards you, its maw dripping with blood and bits of sinew and flesh, its lip curled back in a snarl. You whimpered as the creature’s silver-lilac eyes settled on you, every inch trembling in abject terror.

Though overcome by your fear, your brain was able to put together the sight before you that was sure to be your last. The beast slowly advancing towards you was a wolf, though it was much larger than any wolf you’d ever seen, and its brawn rivaled that of an ox’s.

The wolf boasted a thick coating of silvery-white fur that seemed to glow, as though it bore the essence of a full moon, though its brilliance was dampened somewhat by the smears of crimson saturating it. Under the dim light of the forest, you could not tell whether the blood was that of the wolf or another.

One colossal paw stepped hesitantly toward you again, and you felt yourself nearly go faint. Weakly, you tried to scramble back further into the wood, but your left leg had gone slightly numb from its wound, and the blood loss was starting to make you feel dizzy.

It seemed the Netherwood had answered your silent plea to not be sent back to be killed by Douma; instead, you would serve as the next meal for one of its monstrous residents.

The wolf drew short of you and watched you closely for a moment. With a great shudder, the wolf began to tremble and shake, and your horror melted into wide-eyed disbelief as you watched the wolf shrink and contort until all that was left was a man, blood-stained, naked, and panting on his hands and knees, fingers dug deeply into the dirt below. The man convulsed as began heaving up bile stained with blood and gore.

The sight of scarred forearms and snowy-white hair broke you out into a cold sweat.

“S-Sanemi?” You croaked, equal parts relieved and terrified, even if another part of you desperately hoped that you were simply hallucinating the image of the nude man wretching up blood before you.

“Aye,” Sanemi grit out between great, shuddering breaths as he spat one final time at the dirt. “It is me.”

He rose, bloodied and naked, from the forest floor and looked to you, his eyes back to their familiar, lavender hue, though they still retained an otherworldly glow.

There was a loud ringing in your ears as you stared at him, though you weren’t sure if it was from your panic or your blood loss. Sanemi took a cautious step towards you and it sent you scurrying back, a whimper of fright building in your throat.

He faltered, something like pain crossing his face. “Perhaps you should be afraid,” he said quietly. “And you can be — but I need you to throw me that satchel.”

It took you a moment to recollect yourself long enough to register what he was asking. With shaky hands, you unlatched the leather bag from your shoulders and weakly tossed it towards the Huntsman.

Sanemi was quiet as he dug through the bag, producing a fresh pair of breeches and a clean tunic. With a deftness that seemed as supernatural as his wolf form, Sanemi dressed, concealing his muscular, scarred form from sight once more.

He said your name once, quietly. “Are you alright?”

You trembled, hand clutching weakly at the front clasp of your cape. “He killed my grandmother,” you whispered. “H-he tortured her.”

Sanemi approached you slowly, and when you did not flinch away from him once more, he knelt down beside you. His hand came up to gently stroke your hair, and the touch startled you out of your trance, blinking back fat tears as you looked up at him.

“We need to go,” he said gently and you closed your eyes, nodding.

You’d known, of course, that your Grandmother had been killed; made peace with it, even. But you had not foreseen that she would be tortured for trying to secure your freedom, and the very thought made something inside your heart wither and die.

“I know,” you murmured quietly. Sanemi straightened, extending a hand to you to help you up when your fingers closed around his wrist, your eyes urgent.

“Did you kill them?”

Sanemi grimaced. “Yes, Lamb. I killed them all.”

You nodded. “Good.” You released his wrist and slid your hand into his. “Good.”

Your shock had dulled the sharp, burning throb in your leg while you’d processed the fact that Sanemi was not a mere huntsman, but a wolf of the Wood. But now that the shock had worn off, the pain slammed back into you with full force as you tried to stand, your leg collapsing uselessly under you as you cried out.

Sanemi’s nostrils flared and there was a murderous glint in his eyes as he crouched down beside you, eyes locked onto your left side, fingers clenching around the torn folds of your dress and lifting it up.

“S-Sanemi!” You squeaked, batting his hand away but no to avail. The huntsman — the wolf — managed to pull back the skirts of your dress to reveal the torn flesh of your thigh.

“Was it him?” Sanemi’s voice was low, his head jerking back over his shoulder in the vague direction where he’d left Kaigaku in pieces.

You nodded, eyes wide as you watched him inspect the wound. “A knife. He threw it.”

The huntsman exhaled harshly through his nose. “We’re too vulnerable in the open like this — especially because you’re bleeding.”

Sanemi sat back on his haunches and pulled his small hunting knife from the leather satchel strewn on the ground. Silently, he leaned forward and wound some of the bottom fabric of your dress around the blade and wrenched, tearing a sizeable scrap cloth from the skirt in one clean stroke.

Sanemi then reached under your skirt and tugged the shorter end of your linen shift down. “It’s not ideal but it’s cleaner than your outer skirt,” he said by way of explanation at your raised eyebrows and hitched breath. “It’ll do until I can get you somewhere safer. We’re sitting ducks out here. Your scent is bound to attract something.”

You nodded, gulping. Words were still far too difficult to come by, so you settled for watching your handsome guide as he worked, mouth set in a firm, hard line.

Sanemi tore another strip of linen from your shift and laid it delicately over his knee. His eyes flicked to yours, once, and you felt slightly ashamed at the way your breath hitched, as though waiting for those lilac irises to bleed silver once more.

“May I?” His hands were stilled above the exposed flesh of your shin, and you knew he’d need to lift more to bandage your thigh. You nodded after a moment, though your hesitation did not stem from any fear you held for the scarred man delicately sliding his hands up the length of your wounded leg; rather, the heat that crept up your neck came from the way goose flesh erupted over the skin beneath his roughened yet gentle touch.

Sanemi’s fingers were steady as he gently guided your leg to the side, rotating it in his palm so that the gash was perpendicular to the forest floor.

At the sight of your bloodied, torn flesh, Sanemi growled. “I should’ve made the little bastard suffer far more.” He said darkly, reaching into his satchel to pull a small skien of water to clean off the wound as much as possible.

At the first splash of water against your ragged skin, you flinched, hissing through clenched teeth as the cold fluid chased away the spare bit of blood. For a moment, you could see that the cut left behind the blade was deeper than you’d thought, though not so much so that it required more than a good bandaging and perhaps some stitching.

At least it had not been entirely flayed open.

The hand Sanemi had braced on your knee to keep your leg steady rubbed soothingly at your skin as he repeated the motion once more, letting the water cleanse the wound once more. “Atta girl,” he praised softly. “It’s done. I just need to wrap it.”

It amazed you that such a hardened, rough Huntsman — Wolf — had such a gentle touch. His hands were like feathers as he wound the clean strip of linen around your thigh, the only pressure stemming from the knot he’d fastened to keep it secure around your leg. Sanemi then wrapped the other torn fabric from your outer skirt around the makeshift bandage, knotting it in a similar fashion to the one beneath.

“To keep the one below from becoming dirty,” he offered plainly at your raised eyebrow. “Can you stand?”

Now that the adrenaline of yojr earlier encounter had worn off, the throb in your leg had become all the more pronounced. Teeth clenched, you gripped the Huntsman’s hands tightly as you rose from your seat on the tree stump, eyebrows furrowed in determination. Sanemi did not remove his hands from you, but kept them out and ready as you tentatively shifted your weight to test your wounded leg.

It was no good; the pain shot through you like an arrow and nearly buckled the knee on your good leg. With a cry of frustration, you stumbled back against Sanemi, the Huntsman’s arm looping easily around your waist to help lower you back down against the stump upon which he’s sat you.

“Damn it all,” you cursed, wincing at the angry throb in your leg. “It cannot bear weight.”

Sanemi pursed his lips as he looked over you, considering. “Allow me,” he said after a moment, squatting down next to you, motioning for you to wrap your arm around his shoulders.

You hesitated; you were not scared of the Huntsman, even after witnessing his terrifying true form, but your apprehension lingered, a primal fear baked deep within your core that told you you should be scared of the predator beside you. That, mixed with your blood loss, made you pause, even though you’re traveled alongside the fearless Huntsman for nearly a week.

And Sanemi noticed.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his arm locked steadily around your waist as he lifted you to your feet, your weight pressed against his chest.

You did not trust your words so you only nodded. Despite the remaining wariness you felt, you longed for his comfort more. You lifted your hand to cup the side of his jaw so you could tilt his face down, bringing his forehead against yours.

Sanemi whispered your name and your eyes lifted up to meet the smoldering heat of his gaze.

A knuckle brushed against the curve of your cheek. “Are you frightened of me now, little Lamb?”

Your fingers gripped the collar of his tunic, a desperation wracking through you at the thought he might pull away and remove the steadying warmth of his arms from around your frame.

“No. It is not you that frightens me; it is him.”

The arm around your waist tightened. “He will not get to you; I swear it. I will not allow him to lay a finger on you.”

Your breath shuddered and your eyes squeezed tight. You felt the discomforting press of panic building in your lungs, threatening to choke the air from your throat until a warm finger curled under your chin, followed only by a rugged whisper of your name.

You opened your eyes and there he was; the only person left alive who you could count on; who had proven, time and again, that your welfare mattered to him. Who treated you like you meant something.

You craved that feeling — craved him.

“Kiss me, Sanemi.” You murmured, your lips separated by a breath. “Please.”

Sanemi did not hesitate as he gently brought his lips against yours, the hand under your chin moving to cup the back of your head, holding you steady against him like he was the only real, solid thing in the world.

Your hands, no longer shaking, unclenched from where they’d been locked around the collar of his tunic and slid behind his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

Sanemi sighed against your lips, allowing himself to get lost in the way they moved against his, just as you did. Against the solid rock of his body and under the spell of his soft mouth, it was easy to allow yourself to forget the danger that threatened to creep in from the shadows.

Lost in your kiss, you made the mistake of trying to shift your weight from your good leg to the bad, causing both knees to buckle. At your small whimper of pain, Sanemi broke away.

“You’re too injured to walk,” He murmured against your lips. “So I shall carry you.”

He broke away with a final peck, stepping back and reaching behind him to haul his tunic over his head. “Unless you would like to see all of me, little Lamb,” Sanemi’s smirk was devilish. “Then I suggest you close your eyes for a moment.”

The heat his words sparked in your veins dulled the throb of your wounded leg. “And if I desire to see you?”

Sanemi only shrugged. “Then I suppose I shall have to put on a show.”

The huntsman held your eyes as his hands went to the hastily tied laces of his breeches, tugging the strings open with ease.

You fidgeted against the broken stump he’d perched you on, just as Sanemi shrugged down the soft suede of his breeches, revealing that damnable v-line that made your head spin. A few more inches lower, and there was his manhood, hanging thick and heavy between his muscular and scar-speckled thighs.

He was a sight to behold.

“Is this your first time seeing a man, Lamb?” Sanemi’s voice broke you out of the reverent trance you’d been in whilst admiring every rocky plane of his body.

Your mouth had turned dryer than a summer drought, and so you only nodded your head, unable to tear your eyes from the immaculate form that made up the huntsman of the Netherwood.

To your dismay, Sanemi stepped back from where you sat, again and again until he was several lengths back. You opened your mouth in protest, but he only shook his head.

“Don’t want you to be too close, my sweet.” He called from a distance.

You frowned. “Too close for what —“

Your question was cut off by a small scream as Sanemi leapt forward, that silver fur exploding forth from him as a large wolf landed only feet from where he’d once stood.

Now it was clear why he’d put such distance between you; had Sanemi been any closer when he shifted, one of those mighty claws embedded in his law — nearly as long as your hand — would have surely ripped you clean in half.

Your heart hammered in your chest as Sanemi’s wolf form drew closer. Now, without the weight of terror and the pressing conviction that you were about to die, you allowed yourself to fully appreciate the wolf before you.

His scars were still visible, though less so in contrast to his human form, his thick fur providing a fair degree of cover. In this form, you could see that were you to stand, your head would barely reach his shoulder.

Sanemi grunted as he crouched out, the puff of air from his considerable snout warming over your legs. He looked up at you expectantly, an amused twinkle in his wolffish eyes.

You gaped at him. “You want me to ride you?”

Another amused chuff.

“And how, great and mighty wolf, do you suggest I climb onto your back with a half-severed leg?” You dramatized. “Shall I flop?”

You couldn’t be sure, but it seemed that the Wolf rolled his eyes. Sanemi pressed his large body against your good side, nudging you with his great shoulder to signal for you to grab his fur.

You took a handful of the silvery coat, surprised at its softness. “Do not bite me just because you think I pull too hard,” you warned, half serious, and Sanemi huffed in annoyance.

Using the wolf as leverage, you heaved yourself up, Sanemi pressing steadily into your side as you found your footing against him. Slowly, and with less grace than you were willing to admit, you managed to climb atop Sanemi’s back, awkwardly swinging your injured leg over the opposite side.

Once settled, Sanemi rose beneath you, rising to his full height. Sat atop him, you were willing to bet he was taller than most horses back in the village.

The great wolf sniffed at the air once before lowering himself into a crouch, and springing forth into the Wood.

————

Riding atop Sanemi had been the most exhilarating experience of your life.

Though, you also could not recall the last time such a ride had left you more frightened, given that you’d spent a great deal of it crouched low against his neck, fearing that if you rose your head even a fraction of an inch, some low-hanging tree would embed itself in your face.

You supposed you would have kept riding longer, had your stomach not given a great gurgle after an hour or so atop the wolf. With a growl that you thought sounded suspiciously like a laugh, Sanemi paused in a small clearing near a rocky, moss-covered cliff, disappearing behind the lip of the rock once he’d situated you upon a felled log.

A few moments later, human Sanemi emerged, re-dressed, but his face was severe.

“They will keep coming,” Sanemi’s frustration was clear as he shrugged the fresh tunic over his head, the delectable ridges of his abdomen and the alluring dip of his hips concealed from your sight once more. “So long as they can track your scent, they will keep pursuing you.”

You did not need to ask to whom he referred; the very same fear had gnawed at you even despite the exhilaration of riding Sanemi’s wolf form.

Your appreciation of the huntsman’s physique stalled as fear bubbled again in your gut. “What can I do?” Your whisper was shaky and it made Sanemi pause, his hand twitching towards you. “I cannot change my scent in the middle of the damn Wood—“

“You can,” Sanemi said quickly, and to your surprise, the tips of his ears turned pink. “Or— rather, I can help.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Because you are a wolf? Should I call you that now, instead of ‘Huntsman,’ or ‘Sanemi?’”

“You can call me whatever you desire, so long as you allow me to protect you.” Sanemi retorted evenly.

You tried to keep your voice steady even as you blushed. “And how would you do that, Wolf?”

There was a dark glint in Sanemi’s eyes at your new nickname for him. “A bite from a wolf can change your scent.”

You balked at him. “A bite?”

“Aye,” the Huntsman said casually, as though he was merely discussing the weather. “It would leave a small mark, but that mark would alter your scent enough to make you harder to track.”

You thought for a moment, the blush on your cheeks deepening. “Where would you bite me?”

It was Sanemi’s turn to turn pink. “Likely your neck,” he fidgeted with a stick he used to poke the dying campfire.

You gulped. “Would you have to transform?”

Sanemi’s small smile was handsome, even if it looked a little feral. “No, Lamb. I can stay in this form.”

You watched your protector for a moment, weighing your options. “Come here, Sanemi.”

His eyes snapped to yours, a bottomless heat turning his lilac gaze molten. Slowly, with the grace of a predator silently stalking its prey, Sanemi made his way over to where you sat, drawing short once the tips of his boots grazed yours.

“Do you swear it? It will keep them from being able to track me?” You asked, voice trembling slightly as you peered up at the Huntsman.

He nodded, slowly. A hand reached out to caress your cheek, and your breath lodged in your throat as you found yourself leaning into his warmth.

You managed to exhale around the lump that had formed in your throat. “Then I will allow it.”

Your heart skipped like a rabbit’s against your sternum as Sanemi leaned in close, the warmth of his breath chasing away the chill of the Wood’s air.

“So delicate,” Sanemi murmured, his nose skimming along the slope between your neck and shoulder. “So soft.”

“W-wolf?” Your voice was high, your hands trembling as they jumped to clutch at Sanemi’s forearms, nails digging into his skin in anticipation. “Will it hurt?”

He huffed a laugh against your skin, the gentle tickle of his warm air sending goosebumps along your exposed skin. “No, little Lamb,” his lips danced along your shoulder, back towards the sensitive spot connecting with your neck. “You will feel a prick and then you will feel warm.”

You nodded, the ends of Sanemi’s cornsilk hair tickling your throat. “I’m ready. Bite me — please.”

Sanemi’s groan was followed by a cold, sharp sting that sunk into the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck that was quickly chased away by a soothing warmth. The huntsman’s mouth latched to your neck as he buried his teeth in you, his tongue stroking soothingly around where he now bit.

It felt like someone had poured warmed honey into your veins. It spread, thick and sweet from your neck throughout your body, making you feel like you’d sunk into a hot bath on a cold day. That warmth coiled in your belly and ignited something fluttery and pleasurable between your legs as you tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to the wolf caging you in against the tree.

Your submission evoked a low growl from his chest, deep and rumbling as Sanemi pressed harder into you, his hands bunching your dress at your sides as he continued to suck at your neck. The feeling of his body molded tightly against yours and the way his mouth worked at that delicate spot made you moan out, the sound finally jolting something within the huntsman as he gave you one final kick, before tearing himself away.

“Dear gods, woman,” he heaved, breath coarse. “Are you trying to drive me wild?”

You flushed as you panted, staring at him with wide eyes. Whatever you’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that; you’d not foreseen that the act of Sanemi biting you could feel so intimate, could make you long for him to run his hands under your dress, to touch you in your most sacred places until you begged for him.

He was dangerous; it was thrilling.

“Kiss me again,” you breathed, and Sanemi obeyed, his mouth moving fervently against yours as his tongue caressed your lower lip. Sensing the silent request, you opened for him, and Sanemi’s tongue swept into your mouth, licking at yours as his teeth nipped along your lower lip.

You thought he might devour you; you wanted to let him.

But Sanemi suddenly pulled away from you as though he’d been burned, eyes wide and breath hard.

You blinked in surprise. “Sanemi, what —,”

“We need to go,” he said firmly, his cheeks flushed red. At his sides, his hands curled tightly into fists.

—-

The rest of your journey was oddly strained. Despite having grown closer with enigmatic Huntsman over the last several days of your travels, you suddenly felt as though you’d been catapulted back to square one.

Though he still allowed you ride upon his back in wolf form, gone were the amused chuffs and snorts that he used to signal he was listening to your mindless chatter. Instead, the wolf below you remained tense, a cord pulled tight that was liable to snap at the drop of a hat.

As much as you wished it made you angry so that you could snipe at him, Sanemi’s sudden introversion stoked an uncomfortable self-consciousness within you, and you found yourself desperately grappling for an explanation.

Had you tasted badly, when he’d bit you? Did he suddenly no longer find himself drawn to you, now that your scent was different?

Or, even worse, had he realized that perhaps he did not want you to stay with him in the Wood after all, and was now attempting to put distance between you so that you would be more willing to leave him once you reached the edge of the forest?

The thought made your stomach clench painfully.

Sanemi’s distance did not abate even by the time he slowed to a stop for the night. He’d brought the two of you to a clearing in the Wood that bordered alongside a winding river, crested by a waterfall. Sanemi finally lowered himself to the pebbled ground of the riverbank, muscles twitching as though to hasten you along in sliding off him to balance yourself against a mid-sized boulder, before he stalked back towards the trees, his leather satchel in his mouth.

He avoided even your gaze as he stalked into the shallows of the river, spearing two fish with a sharpened stick he’d fashioned. Sanemi hadn’t so much as thrown a word your way as he’d started a small fire, apparently relying on dusk to conceal the small smoke billowing up.

Despite the coolness of the evening air, you noted Sanemi was sweating as he’d flung out the stick bearing your flame-cooked fish dinner towards you.

In accepting the spear, your fingers accidentally brushed against his and Sanemi recoiled — hard.

“What is wrong with you?” You snapped. “Why will you not touch me? Why do you flinch whenever I am near?”

“I do not,” Sanemi answered hotly through clenched teeth, though the muscle that ticked in his jaw betrayed his frustration. “Am I suddenly required to touch you?”

You folded your arms across your chest, eyes narrowed. “You certainly had no objection to it earlier — especially not when you threw me up against a tree.”

“Threw you —“ Sanemi choked off, his returning glare both indignant and enraged. “As I recall it was you who kissed me.”

“And as I recall, it was you who started doing that — that thing with your tongue,” you accused lamely, though any bite in your words was tempered by the blush creeping up your face.

Sanemi scoffed. “You cannot even speak of it without blushing like a little girl, and yet I am the one acting strange?” He leaned back on the piece of driftwood he’d claimed as his seat, arms folded across his chest, head turned pointedly away from you.

As you mulled over a number of insults to call the temperamental Huntsman sitting across front you, the last remnants of the sun faded from the night sky, and overhanging clouds briefly parted to reveal the moon — nearly full, its silvery glow illuminating the riverbank.

The moon’s rays reached where you and the Huntsman had set up camp when suddenly your hand jumped to your shoulder as you cried out.

Sanemi startled forward with a worried growl of your name. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You grit your teeth, fingers digging harshly into your shoulder as you winced. “Something is — is burning, but I do not know what.”

You were certain the only injury your sustained had been the wound to your thigh by Kaigaku’s knife. But you’d spent enough time in and around flame to know what a burn felt like, and it felt as though something had been branded into you, its throb almost crippling.

You cried out again and Sanemi quickly crossed the dirt and took you into his arms, though you felt him flinch as he did so. “Where?”

You gestured wildly to your shoulder, too distracted by the way his presence made the burn now pulse, sending lashes of heat throughout your body, though there was a maddening edge of pleasure blooming from every part of you that was pressed against him.

Sanemi’s fingers grasped the collar of your dress and wrenched it to the side, swearing softly as he beheld whatever it was he saw.

“What is it?” You managed to grind out, your fingers digging into the muscles of his forearms to keep him anchored to you, as though he were capable of keeping the flames licking at your skin at bay. “Kaigaku did not touch me there — at least, I don’t think —,”

“It was not that boy who did this,” Sanemi said severely, his finger gingerly caressing the spot where your neck met your shoulder. You moaned as his touch extinguished some of the burning fire which had ignited your skin, too lost in the temporary relief to note the way Sanemi’s hands tightened around you. “It was I.”

That stilled you. “What do you mean?” You turned your head, peering up at the Wolf with wide eyes. “From when you changed my scent?”

Sanemi, for once, looked discomforted. “I think —,” he swallowed once, avoiding your gaze as he stepped back. You almost cried out at the loss of his body against yours, as the burn returned once more.

“I think I marked you; but I-“ Sanemi stuttered, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he stared at the ground, his weight shifting uneasily from foot to foot. “But it shouldn’t be affecting you — not like this.”

“You marked me?” Your hand fluttered to the fleshy juncture between your shoulder and neck. You gasped as your fingers brushed against a curious raise in your skin that hadn’t been there before, the strange curvature burning a few degrees warmer than the area around it.

The huntsman’s eyes remained resolutely fixed on the ground of the forest. “I told you I would cover your scent.”

You stroked the the mark, fingers tracing the odd curve, like that of a crescent moon. “What does the mark mean?”

Sanemi hesitated.

“Wolf?”

“It is a mating mark.” Sanemi admitted after a long moment, hand jumping to his hair as he ran his fingers anxiously through his silvery-white locks.

A stunned breath blew past your lips, your eyes wide. “M-mating mark?” You repeated, hand freezing where the telling crescent was emblazoned upon your skin.

Sanemi looked equal parts apologetic and scared. “I swear, I did not know it would affect you — wolves have to accept the mating mark to feel it, so I did not think —.” He ran a frazzled hand through his hair, his anguish apparent. “I thought I would be the only one to feel its call. I swear it.”

In the back of your mind, it registered that the mark perhaps was the reason for Sanemi’s sudden change towards you, but the incessant burning you felt would not allow you to question him on it.

“What does this mean?” You cried out again as the mark surged, the pain reaching all the way down between your legs, making you gasp. “Are we — are we m-mated?”

Sanemi’s eyes flashed. “No,” his voice was firm, urgent. “You still have to accept the mark for us to be mated — that’s why I thought it was safe. It was supposed to change your scent enough for us to avoid those men.”

“I swear to you I do not plan on acting on it; I meant only to help protect you. I fully intend on escorting you to the nearest village, as promised, and then I will leave. That mark does not have to mean anything to you.”

You believed him. The slight panic in his eyes as you winced at the mark’s repetitive flare once more could not be faked. Furthermore, you knew Sanemi would have no reason to bind you to him; not when you’d already made it clear that you wanted to stay.

You still did.

Sanemi’s earlier words echoed in your mind. That mark does not have to mean anything to you.

“But it will mean something to you, yes?” You demanded, drawing yourself up tall even as you sat perched upon the driftwood. “The mark?”

Sanemi hesitated again. “Wolves only mark once.”

He did not offer any further explanation, nor did he need to; you understood well enough.

The Huntsman had marked you, knowing full well he’d never be able to claim another as his mate. He’d done that, knowing that if another came along that won his heart, he could not be with them completely — not in the way his nature would desire.

And he’d done it nonetheless; all for the sake of giving her a chance to escape Douma’s clutches and to be free.

He’d put you first.

You hadn’t doubted the sincerity of your offer to him earlier, but now, there was no way he’d get rid of you. You would not allow it.

“And what would you do if I said I accepted it — accepted the mating bond?” You asked, voice as soft as a feather.

Sanemi snorted, pulling away from you to busy himself with stoking the small campfire. “I would say that you are an innocent, little lamb who does not understand what it means to be claimed by a wolf.”

“I understand well enough,” you replied, indignant. “I know what it means for people to give into their carnal desires.”

“You know nothing, you’ve never even seen a man before today.” The huntsman shot back, tossing another piece of kindling into the small fire. “You have never laid with another, much less a wolf.”

“It cannot be all that different,” you pouted. “You appear before me man enough.”

Sanemi closed the gap between your bodies then, coming to sit beside you on the rock, fingers curling under your chin to tilt your head up.

His eyes glinted with a sudden predatory heat. “It is quite different, little lamb.” He murmured. “I may now stand before you a man, but I am very much still a wolf. I would not take you like an ordinary human.”

There it was again — that heat, so foreign and yet so enticing, flickered to life once more in the depths of your belly, and the urge to rub your thighs together suddenly became overwhelming. With bated breath, you watched as Sanemi’s nostrils flared softly, his pupils dilating as the grip under your chin tightened ever so slightly.

“Then how would you take me, wolf?” You whispered, eyes not wavering from his. “How would I accept the mating bond?”

Sanemi’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, opening only after a shaky exhale of his breath. “You would have to take my knot.”

Your gaze dropped to his lips, the warmth from your mark spreading across your skin along with the sudden urge to feel them move against your own. “Your knot?”

“My knot,” Sanemi repeated, “and that is precisely why I cannot mate you, little lamb.”

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, a movement Sanemi’s eyes followed, his tongue flicking out to wet his own lips.

You pressed your chest flush against his front, hands seeking out his in the dark. “And what if I wanted it?”

Sabemi groaned, fingers latching onto your waist, though whether he sought to push you away or keep you anchored in place, you could not say. “Christ, woman. One would almost think you enjoyed torturing this poor wolf.”

You leaned into him, head tilting as you sought the knowledge of his soft lips against yours. “Not torturing,” you whispered, a hair’s breath separating your mouth from his. “Willingly offering myself to him.”

Your lips brushed against his and Sanemi moaned, his hands reaching to snare in your hair as he moved his mouth desperately against yours, teeth nipping and sucking on your lower lip, like he was hungry to consume you. But before he could, your pulled your head back, breaking the kiss.

“Do it, wolf,” you whispered. “Take me. Claim me as your mate.”

Sanemi grabbed you by your jaw, cheeks squishing beneath his firm grip. “Do you know what that would mean?” His voice was rough, his eyes burning with his desire. “If I did, we would be bonded. Permanently. For life.”

He said it as if you had not guessed it to be true; as if you weren’t prepared.

You gazed up at him through your eyelashes, eyes round and full of the innocence he claimed he could not taint. “Would you have it be another?”

Sanemi took the bait, a feral growl tearing from his chest as he crushed your body against his.

“No,” he snarled, and his mouth descended upon yours once more, his hot tongue sweeping into your mouth to swallow your breathy gasp as you threaded your fingers through his soft, moon-kissed hair.

You moaned into his mouth, hands greedily roaming the rocky planes of his chest, nails scratching lightly along his skin.

“You will be the death of me,” the Huntsman breathed against your lips. “You truly want to accept the bond?”

You moaned, nodding vigorously as Sanemi trailed his lips across your jaw and down your neck, his hands beginning to roam up your sides, tugging you down with him against the boulder so that you straddled his sides.

“Very well,” he murmured. “But I will not claim you here,” Sanemi said gruffly against the delicate skin of your throat, lips pressed against where your pulse fluttered. “I cannot.”

You whined and ground your hips down against his thighs, savoring the way the steely firmness of them pressed against something between your legs that made you feel electric.

“I must take you to my den,” the huntsman clarified, pulling back slightly in spite of your small whine. “When wolves like me claim a mate, we…do not like to be disturbed.”

Sanemi’s fingered the front laces of the stay secured around your bust, slowly undoing the careful lacing as he spoke, though his eyes did not leave yours. “And because it will be a full moon when I mate you, I will go into heat. It will last a very long time.”

“How long?” You fought to keep your head from falling back as you watched Sanemi work, the warmth of his hands seeping through the cotton and linen layers of your dress, making your breasts pebble with every loosened tie of your corset.

Sanemi hummed as he leaned forward, tracing his lips over the exposed skin just below your collarbone as his fingers worked the last of your stays. “At least a day; perhaps two. Other wolves have claimed it lasts shorter when one has a mate, as opposed to having to weather it alone.”

The top swells of your breasts were exposed as Sanemi finally freed you from your outer corset, allowing it to fall to the ground beside you.

The huntsman skimmed his nose over the top of your shift where the tops of your soft mounds peaked over, letting his tongue peek out to follow the trail. The feeling of the hot wetness of his mouth made you fidget in his lap, a whine building in your throat, desperate to have him touch more.

“A-and will you — ah,” you moaned as Sanemi tugged the bodice of your dress and shift down your shoulders, exposing your peaked breasts to the night air. “Will y-you mate m-me the whole t-time — oh god, Sanemi,”

“I could get used to you saying my name like that,” The huntsman chuckled, bending to take one of your breasts fully in his mouth, sucking and rolling his tongue over your stiffened nipple. The contact made the mark on your shoulder burn with a sensual heat that you felt shoot straight down between your legs, and you ground against his thigh, mewling for more.

Sanemi looked up at you as he swirled his tongue over the fleshy skin of your mound, his pupils blown wide. “Perhaps,” he muttered in response to your question, in between light sucks. “It depends on how well you take my knot, you sweet thing.”

You moaned again as Sanemi moved his mouth across the valley between your breasts, taking the other mound between his lips and teeth, his hand rising to keep the other warm. He suckled at you for a moment until you were a whimpering, trembling mess atop him, before he pulled off with a lewd pop!

“But no matter,” You shivered as Sanemi’s teeth grazed your ear. “I promise I will make you feel so good, little Lamb.”

“Why must we wait,” you asked impatiently. “I am ready to be your mate now — I promise I can take your knot right here.”

Sanemi snarled against your skin, but it was not in warning. Rather, your words seemed to stir something deep within him, as the bulge between his legs hardened even more, and the building friction between it and demanding ache in your core intensified.

Sanemi shifted your hips in his lap so the apex of your thighs was no longer pressed flush against his hardness.

“You, my flower, smell far too tempting for me to risk having you in such a vulnerable way in the middle of the damn Wood, without any cover.”

Sanemi, lips traipsed along your jaw as he hummed. “There are many creatures lurking in the shadows that would see my mating you as an opportunity to take a bite for themselves.”

You tugged on his hair, trying to get him to meet your eyes. “I thought my scent was alluring only to you?”

“You don’t just appeal to me, little Lamb,” Sanemi said pointedly. “You have a rare scent that attracts all sorts of creatures here in the Wood.”

“But it is different now?” You pondered, fidgeting in the Huntsman’s lap until the ridge of his thigh pressed against that spot between your legs that made you want to sing.

You hummed and used your grip in his hair as leverage to tilt his head to the side, your lips caressing down the side of Sanemi’s neck, savoring the faint, salty taste of him on your tongue as his fingers dug into your hips.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Your scent has changed, thanks to your mark.”

You pulled away from your assault on his neck to pout at him, lower lip jutting out in a way that made Sanemi’s eyes darken. “So I do not smell as good anymore? To you, that is?”

With a low growl, Sanemi stood, hands gripping under your thighs as he lifted you before he laid you out against the river stone. “Quite the opposite, Lamb,” he quipped, voice low and heady. “To me, there is no finer perfume. Your scent calls to me; it nearly sends me into a frenzy.”

You found yourself incapable of coherent thought — much less speech — as Sanemi’s hands slid up your legs, bunching the skirts of your dress with every inch of skin he passed over until you felt the night air delicately brushing the heat between your legs.

Your legs spread and supported between his grip and the smooth of the rock, Sanemi leaned forward and kissed you, his tongue sliding past your lips to lick teasingly at the roof of your mouth before he broke away, imprinting his kiss down your exposed torso.

You watched him, enthralled by the way your body seemed to come alive under his touch. Even in the dark of the Wood, you could make out the lilac swirls of Sanemi’s eyes as he watched you, noting every gasp and sigh he pulled from you as his hands and mouth explored the planes of your body.

“What curious eyes you have, Wolf.” Your breath was short, choppy as Sanemi’s lips descended past your breasts, caressing the soft of your belly.

“The better to see your pretty face, my sweet,” Sanemi murmured, pressing a sweet kiss right below your belly button, the fire within your gut leaping like oil in a hot pan.

“W-what — oh,” you moaned as you felt his lips press against your hip, the broad expanse of his hands smoothing down over your thighs, pushing the last of your skirts up, and allowing the searing heat of his hands to meet your untouched skin. “What large hands you have.”

“The better to feel you — to caress every inch of you,” Sanemi’s voice was husky as his fingers trailed up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, spreading them wider so he could kneel. One hand gripped the back of your knee and gently tugged your injured leg over his shoulder, so your foot rest against the middle of his back.

His hot breath danced teasingly along your inner thigh as Sanemi’s mouth drew closer an closer to where you ached for him, the night air cool as it licked at your tender, heated flesh.

The feel of his mouth drawing nearer to to the most intimate part of your body made you feel as though you’d been set alight. “Such soft lips you have, Wolf.”

Sanemi chuckled, the sound so dark and rich it sent a shiver up your spine. “The better to taste you with, little Lamb.”

Your breath hitched as you felt something warm and hot flatten against your folds and drag up, Sanemi groaning into you as he repeated the movement, again and again.

His tongue, you realized as a strangled cry fell from your lips, your head falling back against the creek stone. He was exploring you with his tongue.

“Sweet,” Sanemi groaned in between wet, sticky laps against your folds. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

Every nerve in your body felt as though it had been set alight, the mark between your shoulder and neck burning deliciously.

Sanemi’s tongue flattened against your core, his nose pressing sharply against the pearl between your legs as he rocked his face from side to side, smearing your juices all over his maw.

“O-oh gods,” you cried out, hips bucking against his ministrations.

Sanemi’s hot tongue circled your entrance once before dipping inside, his teeth grazing your most sensitive spot as he buried the wet appendage inside your core.

His name fell in a breathy scream from your lips as you bowed up off the creek rock, hands shooting to anchor themselves in his hair as Sanemi began moving his tongue in and out of your fluttering core, his nose bumping and pressing against that delicate pearl at the apex of your thighs as he moved.

“My gods,” Sanemi grunted into your folds. “You are heaven on earth.”

You bucked against him once more, though you could not tell whether you sought more of his tongue or whether your body was trying to squirm away, too overcome by the pleasurable sensations Sanemi bestowed upon you as he worked his mouth against you. It did not matter either way, however, for every time you twitched away from him, the Huntsman’s hot, silky mouth only followed you, your cunt this predator’s dinner.

And apparently, he enjoyed playing with his food.

The frequency of your moans increased as the sounds of Sanemi feasting between your legs grew louder and ever more lewd, his own sounds of pleasure muffled by the repeated wet smacks of his mouth against your dripping folds as he sucked you between his lips and teeth and continued fucking you with his tongue.

“S-Sanemi! Oh — oh gods,” you cried as something coiled tightly behind your navel, making your thighs clench around the Wolf’s head as he worked.

Sanemi only responded with another groan, his hand leaving the supple flesh of your inner thigh to stroke against your folds, making you buck all the more against the stone as his roughened fingers brushed delicately against the spot that made you see stars.

His tongue pulled out of you in favor of flicking the bead at the apex of your legs, his fingers moving to your entrance and deftly pushing in, the wetness leaking from your core ensuring that they slid in without much resistance.

You cried out then, utterly overwhelmed by the way Sanemi’s finger began to work inside you, curling and pumping and stroking along your innermost walls until your entire body vibrated below him.

The hand supporting your thigh over his shoulder tightened as Sanemi resumed his oral assault on that small nub above your entrance, sucking and licking at it until the only sound leaving your throat were feverish cries of his name, your hips involuntarily jerking against him. With each passing moment that Sanemi spent feasting between your legs, something began to mount behind your navel, like a coil being steadily wound tighter and tighter.

You thought it should concern you, this foreign feeling, but as that feeling intensified, so too did your desire to see what would happen when it — you — came undone.

You left one hand gripping harshly at the Wolf’s hair, in some pathetic attempt to keep his face locked against your core, and lifted the other to pinch and roll your breast. You jolted at the stimulation, feeling yourself grow even wetter despite the fervor with which Sanemi lapped and suckled at you.

This appeared to please him, as Sanemi’s free hand moved from your thought to grip at your hip, pressing you even closer to his face until you wondered whether he could breathe. If he could not, the Huntsman did not seem to mind; his groans and growls against your cunt only intensified.

Sanemi slid a second finger into you, and then a third, and the resulting stretch made you see stars, your toes curling in your boots.

That thing in your stomach seized even tighter and your entire body tensed, as though you were on a precipice merely awaiting a slight force to tip you over and sending you hurtling to the depths below.

Whatever was happening to you, the Wolf seemed to anticipate it; for the moment that tight coil within your belly unwound, Sanemi’s fingers pulled hurriedly out of your opening only to be replaced by his tongue, his teeth pressed against your pearl. He lapped up every drop of release that spilled forth, humming and growling as you rode his tongue through the waves of crippling pleasure coursing through you.

As you came down from your high with a breathy sigh of his name, Sanemi shuddered beneath you, a strangled groan lilting out from his mouth between lazy slurps at your cunt. Though your vision was hazy, you could see the faint whites of his eyes peeking through his lids as they rolled back into his head, his fingers tightening their grip on your thighs until it was painful, before releasing once more.

The mark on your neck burned but it was no longer in agony; instead, it felt warm, like a part of your body left too long in the summer sun. but the heat was not entirely unwelcome, especially as Sanemi untangled himself from you, allowing the chill of the late autumn wind to sweep in and lick at your exposed skin.

“That should hold us both over until tomorrow,” Sanemi said after a moment with a throaty chuckle. “Though I will be hard pressed to keep my hands off you, little Lamb.”

Sanemi’s hands eased your skirts back down over your legs. Once your nether region was covered, he helped you sit up, allowing you to cling to him for warmth as he refastened your stays and helped you lace your corset back up the front.

Gingerly, Sanemi brushed your hair back from the shoulder bearing his claim on you. You followed his line of sight, twisting slightly and saw what he did: the crescent-shaped mark, which had burned a violent lavender only minutes prior, had faded back to a pale silver, its ache apparently soothed for the time being.

Sanemi leaned forward and brushed his lips against your mark, his tongue flicking out to caress it as you felt that warmth flood your veins once more. With a moan, you tilted your head, exposing more of your neck again to him, begging him to repeat the action again and again, but Sanemi only drew back.

“Apologies, Lamb,” his eyes were dark once more, and his hands fidgeted at his sides. “Seeing that mark pulls at something within me.”

You allowed your hair to fall back over the crescent bite mark and in an instant, Sanemi’s eyes lightened and a sheepish grin spread across his face. “Wolves are territorial. Seeing your mark makes me want to claim you, even without regard to the danger surrounding us.”

You frowned for a moment. “Are you only drawn to me because you’ve marked me?”

Sanemi’s gaze softened. “I am drawn to you, you vexatious woman, because I find you brave, kind, and at times, even a little charming.”

His hand lifted to caress your cheek, tilting your head down to meet his for a gentle kiss. “The mark is only a physical manifestation of what I already feel towards you. It is simply a way to display our bond to the world.”

Sanemi’s face turned grave and the way he said your name was serious. “You do not have to accept the bond if you’ve changed your mind.”

You shook your head hurriedly. “I want the bond — I want you,” the sincerity of your words resonated with Sanemi, as he pulled your hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses against your fingers. “This is all new to me; I just wanted to know you were sure.”

Sanemi’s soft laugh made your heart thrum, and a blush spread across your cheeks. “I am certain, Lamb, that I would not want anyone else to cause me stress apart from you.”

With a quick peck against your lips, Sanemi rose, stretching his arms high above his head. The moonlight, coupled with the residual flames of the small campfire allowed you to rake your eyes over his lithe form, appreciating every scar and swell of muscle dotting his mouthwatering physique.

But your eyes snagged on a dark stain that had spread across the front of Sanemi’s breeches. “What —?”

Sanemi did not look embarrassed, but he did turn away from you nonetheless. “I told you, Lamb,” he said causually as he dug through the satchel, pulling out a spare pair of pants. “The mark affects me far more than it affects you; at least, for now.”

“That is because of me?” Your eyes trailed his form in wonder, and the sight of the stain made your thighs clench together though you knew not why. “Is that — is that your pleasure?”

Sanemi’s lopsided grin widened, a faint snicker on his lips as he regarded you once more, spread out atop his own traveling cloak. “Yes, Lamb. It is my pleasure.”

You looked up at him, head slightly cocked in question. “But I did nothing to you — not like you did to me.”

Sanemi removed his soiled breeches and re-dressed before returning to your side. “You did not need to; as I said, the mark affects me more than you right now. My body knows I have marked you as my mate, and it is eager to make you mine.”

You shivered at the possessiveness in the words and sat up as he leaned against the small boulder, reaching up over his shoulders to tug his tunic up over his head.

“So it was only the mark?” You asked slowly, eyes dropping down to where you knew his manhood lay under his clothing. “The mark brought you pleasure?”

Warm fingers gripped gently under your chin, forcing you to look back up and meet his piercing stare.

“No, sweetling,” Sanemi said, a low growl tinting his words. “It was not merely the mark. I took pleasure from giving you pleasure.” His thumb stroked the underside of your jaw. “A great deal of it, it seems.”

You shifted until you were on your knees before him, and even the dark of the night could not conceal the way Sanemi’s eyes darkened at the sight.

“Shall I give it back to you, my Wolf?” You whispered, leaning forward to graze your lips against the crotch of his breeches. “I should like to taste you as well.”

To your surprise, neither growl nor groan rumbled from the depths of Sanemi’s chest as you poked your tongue out between your lips and gently dragged it up the seam of his pants, just as he’d done to you. Instead, what fell from Sanemi’s lips was a low, breathy whine, the wolf’s head tipping back slightly as his eyes squeezed shut.

Below the barrier of his clothing, something between his legs began to stir. Curious, you brought your hand against it, palming him slightly through the material.

“Fuck,” Sanemi hissed, and the hand around your jaw tightened, forcing you to rise to your feet.

Sanemi cracked an eye open to glare at you, but he melted at your answering pout, his thumb running over the bottom lip you’d jutted out.

“I promise you, Lamb,” he said gruffly. “I will give you plenty of my pleasure once the full moon rises; so much so, you will not know what to do with it.”

Your curiosity disrupted your self-pity. “From your knot?”

“Aye,” Sanemi confirmed, his voice like gravel. “Speaking of which,” Sanemi then tapped your rear, eliciting a small yelp from you as you separated from him.

“If you’re truly committed to taking my knot, you will need your rest, you tempestuous woman,” Sanemi scolded, and before you could protest, he bent low, wrapping his formidable hands around the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up, forcing you to lock your legs around his waist with a small gasp.

Gently, Sanemi laid you out atop his traveling cloak, bracing himself on one steely arm next to your head as he lowered himself down, allowing one quick press of his lips against yours before he pulled away, stretching out on his side.

“We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and an even longer night.” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes that made you rub your thighs together, even as you scowled at him.

“I don’t suppose you will give me another taste of what to expect,” you sighed, resigned as Sanemi moved his head so that he could lazily dance his lips down the side of your neck.

“I’m afraid not,” his answering smirk was smug as you began to squirm beneath the hand idly fondling your breast. “But I shall make the wait worth your while.”

Your breath lodged in your throat as Sanemi leaned in close, his breath tickling your ear. “When we get to my den,” he promised, tone mischievous, yet you knew he meant every word that followed. “I am going to fucking devour you, little Lamb.”

Devour he will. Part II is fucking filthy. Stay tuned if you want to see her take his knot (again and again).

#demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #monster fucker #werewolf fucker #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi smut #kny smut #demon slayer smut

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flametrashiraarchive · 10 months

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Kyojuro Rengoku x Boobs

No one asked for this but sometimes you've just gotta do things for yourself.

NSFW beneath the cut

Oh goodness

Oh gosh.

The first time he sees you his poor brain short circuits.

He just stares

Not at your chest. No he cannot look at that, his head will explode.

Just at the air above your head; smiling and unblinking.

The other hashira definitely notice. Tengen definitely teases him about it.

"You okay there, buddy?"

"YES!"

"You sure? You're looking a little flustered."

"I'M FINE!"

"Hmm... you look like you could use a lie down... I know where you can find a couple of pillows to lay your head on..."

*chokes*

When your relationship becomes intimate though...

The first time he sees them unclothed the poor man can hardly breathe.

You have to tell him he can touch them, he's too flustered to ask.

Such strong sturdy hands trembling as he holds them.

So, so gentle with you.

Constantly checking your facial expressions to make sure he's doing well.

"May I kiss them?"

You have to assure him he can do whatever he likes.

Kisses them exactly as he kisses your lips; slowly, deeply, sighing softly as his tongue deftly circles your nipple.

He looks so pretty when he's sucking your tits, so serene.

Let's face it, Kyojuro is happiest when his mouth is full.

He's smitten. He'll lie there beside you sucking and licking your nipples for as long as you let him.

Every moan or whimper which emerges from your lips makes his cock twitch.

Sometimes after missions he'll just lie with his head on your chest, loving your warmth and softness.

And when you titty fuck this man...

he is a blushing mess, biting the back of his arm, toes curling, hair sticking to his forehead.

The image of his cock pumping between your breasts

And the first time he saw his cum glistening on them

it turned him on so much he immediately went for round 2.

That was the first time you heard him say "fuck"

Actually, it was more of a throaty, breathless "ffffuck!"

Loves to massage them. He bought oil.

Has you sit between his legs with your back to his chest

Those big, strong hands just lovingly caressing your oiled up breasts as he whispers praises and compliments into your ear.

"You're so beautiful, so perfect. I'll cherish you forever."

And he really will.

#rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #kimetsu kyojuro #kimetsu rengoku #rengoku fanfic #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyōjurō #rengoku headcanons

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xxsabitoxx · 1 year

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Unfortunate [Teaser] full fic has been posted

Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi x AFAB! Reader

Warning the full length fic will include the following: gang banging, dub-con / non-con, forced oral, forced orgasm, BDSM themes… which just means they aren’t easy on you whatsoever, humiliation, bukkake, outdoor sex, brain washing, etc etc etc

A/N: so I will say, this fic is going to be a darker one. I don’t think I’ve ever written like… full on non-con… honestly this fic will somehow lean towards dub-con anyways. Like let’s be honest, it’s gonna be a very morally gray fic. I mean we aren’t moral people let’s be real.

You had fucked up, big time. “Such a stupid thing! You couldn’t figure out that we wanted you to do this?” The green eyed demon laughed again, watching as you looked between the three of them. Laughing just a bit harder as you realized only three of them stood before you. “I-but…” there was a fourth. You were certain of it… so where the hell did he go? “Karaku…you’re so loud…” the blue eyed demon whined, eyes locked on you as he referred to the green eyed demon. “Shut it, Aizetsu.”

The red eyed one spoke again, staff hovering just a bit off the ground as he scowled at you. “You’re probably wondering where the fourth one went, huh sugar?” The green eyed demon taunted you, completely torn, you couldn’t figure out where to look. If your eyes left the three of them they’d likely attack. If you didn’t try to figure out the location of the fourth, it was likely he’d kill you instead. “C’mon, little slayer… Show us what you got…” the blue eyed demon spoke, voice somber and eyes filled with sadness.

“Urogi, quit playing around.” The red eyed demon bellowed, another name, but your brain was going too fast to remember it. The flapping of wings pulled you from your daze, head whipping in the direction of the noise but it was too late. Two claws grabbed around your waist, the sudden thrust upward knocking your blade straight from your grasp. A scream of shock left you as you were torn straight off the ground, head flying upwards to see what had grabbed you. Somehow, it was the fourth demon.

He looked just as the other three did, the only differences being his eyes and his limbs. Golden eyes stared down at you, a familiar smirk on his lips. Instead of arms and legs, he had claws. His limbs resembled that of a bird or reptile, large wings expanding behind him. You jerked as he stopped, hovering in the air as he looked you over. It wasn’t until he raised his legs that you realized he was using them to grasp you opposed to his arms. “What a pathetic thing you are…” he laughed as he let you go.

You began to plummet to the ground, body and mind so disconnected from your reality that you couldn’t even muster a scream before he swooped down to grab you again. Now, you were facing him, eyes wide and chest heaving. “You humans are so easy to break… though I must say I’ve never seen the fighting spirit leave someone as quickly as it left you.” He admired your petrified face, slowly descending until he was in earshot of his other halves. “Yah know, Sekido? We shouldn’t kill her just yet…”

His eyes trailed over your body, a cruel grin covering his face as he spoke. “Why don’t we have some fun with her? It’s been years since I’ve gotten my fill of human…desire.” The implications had you feeling hot, panic ebbing up the back of your neck as you squirmed in his grasp. “Oh? There it is…” he dropped you a moment later. The fall wasn’t a big one but it still hurt when you hit the ground. The panic was mixing with dread as you realized what the situation was turning to. “Fun? Urogi why can’t we just eat her…” the blue eyed demon whined softly as he stared at you.

“Oi, Aizetsu don’t be such a prude…” the green eyed demon spoke, walking over to where you sat on the ground. He crouched before you, smiling in a way that made you want to run. “She’d certainly have a good time, don’t you think Sekido? You know we need your approval to do anything…” he turned to look at the red eyed demon, a soft thump behind you told you that the winged demon had landed. You met the red eyed demon’s gaze, swallowing thickly as you waited for him to decide your fate.

“There are rules…you know. We each get a turn, no hogging her.” You got the chills, listening intently to the demons conversing about having their way with you. “Listen here, sugar.” The green eyed demon grabbed your face, keeping your attention on him as he spoke. “We’re gonna have a hell of a time with you… satisfy us and maybe we’ll let you leave here with your life.” Behind you, the winged demon snickered, feet dragging on the ground as he too crouched behind you. “You’ll be able to satisfy the four of us with your body, right?”

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8mitsurikanroji8 · 10 months

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𝒦𝓃𝓎 𝒞𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈

ɪɴꜰᴏ : ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼

𝘛𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰. 𝘡𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶. 𝘐𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦. 𝘔𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 . 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪 . 𝘖𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘪 . 𝘎𝘪𝘺𝘶 . 𝘒𝘺𝘰𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘰 . 𝘔𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘪. 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘶.

────────────────────────

𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Not obvious at all ?

. He’s a sweatheart to everyone he meets ahem Tanjiro effect?

. Blushes whenever you get close ><

. Would offer moments with you

. “Y/n want to eat together ?” “Y/n want to train together?” “Y/n want to take a stroll” etc

. You think nothing of it but for him his heart beats fast and is comforted by these actions

. Doesn’t realize he has a crush on you

. Just thinks you have an amazing personality that draws him in

. It’s just that, right ?

. He finally gets the hint when you guys were alone on a stroll catching the sunset. He caught himself staring at you while smiling as you stood and watched the sun fall, painting the sky orange

. His face goes RED when he realizes ><

. He turns away trying to calm himself down

. You notice, concerned, you take your hand and put it on his face thinking he has a fever

. Faces is literally fire

. Other than that you don’t really realize his feelings for you as he seems to be the same. Only asking for more time with you and more blushing but your mind waves it off

. Little do you know he stares at you while your mind is adrift thinking

. His heart beats fast and his eyes soften

. Yep. He likes you.

𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Now this one you KNOW [ Sorta ]

. I mean he ask you to marry him only 2 minutes in meeting for the first time

. “YOURE THE PRETTIEST GIRL I HAVE EVER MET. PLEASE MARRY ME!”

. You are dumbfounded with his open admiration

. A little flatter? Yes. Caught off guard ? 100%

. Soon within getting to know him you learn of his lovely dovey personality

. Realizing he is like this with every girl you push aside his comments of marriage and admiration

. I mean he would say that to any one, right ?

. Wrong [ also right tho >< ]

. He would say this to almost every girl he’s met

. But after you ? Oh honey

. You don’t realize how he’s actually fallen for you. Deeply

. Follows you around like a duck

. Someone criticize you [ Even if it’s just critiquing so you know what to work on ]

. That person will not hear the end of it

. “Y/N IS THE BEST PERSON EVER AND IS THE GREATEST DEMON SLAYER SO YOU SHUT UP!”

. Cringey ? Mhm. Cute ? A little.

. If you use sweet words to him [ You mostly say them to everyone tho ] like “honey” “sweetie” “cutie” “sweetheart”

. What color do you want your wedding bouquet?

. He’s planning it all

𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You don’t know and neither does he ._.

.”FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW. LETS SEE WHO WINS!”

. That’s something you will never hear the end of

. He has no idea about what a crush is nor love

. He just thinks you’re a good fighter and wants to fight you whenever he can

. And you just think he’s being his normal weird self :)

. You don’t mind it [ usually ]

. He likes to eat with you

. If you both are heading to a mission and forget to pack yourself food

. He will eat his infront of you and say

. “HAHA IDIOT”

. You roll your eyes ignoring him

. Suddenly his food is being shoved down your throat no comment added

. You better not ask about it

. Your ears won’t be able to handle anymore of his yelling blabber

. But you take his action to heart and enjoy it

. His face is a bit pink

. BUT only because his boar head is warm, right ?

. Sureeee ._.

𝐌𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Who are you again ?

. Oh right. The one who gives him the hebegebees

. Jkjkjk

. well

. He’s too lost in the clouds to realize his feelings for you or even realize you’re the only one who’s company doesn’t annoy him or pushes away

. And you don’t realize because his vocabulary is just so grand

. “Mhm” “No” “Yes “I believe so” “What did you say?” “I assume” “Could be” “I have no opinion”

. You tag along him to the point where others know

. “Oh there’s Muichiro. Y/n must be near”

. And vice versa

. He doesn’t realize how close together you guys alway are

. When you’re away on a mission he finds himself with a unfamiliar feelings

. Oh you’re back! Never mind the feeling is gone nothing to worry about !

. You just like his character and enjoy spending time with him

. He won’t realize but he thinks the same

. And more ><

. Both of these are unaware to you and him

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Oh boy

. You may be strong both physically and mentally

. You’re enduring both his need to constantly train and his vicious tongue

. You most likely match his adittuide

. Oh he’s got something to say? So do you

. Everyone believes he HATES you

. I mean he does insult you and always wants to fight

. Poor guy doesn’t know what it is he’s feeling

. He didn’t really see romantic love in his childhood

. So he just stuffs those fast heart beat, pink cheeks and fuzzy feeling deep down and try’s to ignore it

. He doesn’t realize but one of the reason he always want to spear with you is because you guys spend close time together

. Also because he’s Sanemi

. And you being you, you don’t mind and take it as another challenge to conquer

𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You talk and he doesn’t

. Perfect match <3

. Here goes another damage one !

. His love language is definitely quality time

. You’re eating ? Under [ or up ] a tree? Simply walking around the garden ?

. Oh look there he is too!

. He definitely catches on to his physical and emotional reactions to you

. And you just thinks you guys are the closets of friends !

. You guys always seem to travel together

. Even in your free time you are found with him strolling around a village together

. Some one insults you?

. You’ll just ignore it and move on

. He doesn’t. Pray for that person.

. Kaburamaru seems to have also found a fondness for you

. He may be jealous of that fact

𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You don’t know what the others are talking about

. Giyu is lovely to talk to !

. He may be one of your favorite hasira to spend time with ♡

. He’s gentle and kind spoken [ with his little use of words ]

. He pays for your meals no matter how hard you insist and listen to you ramble for hours on end with no sign of annoyence

. Why would the others hate him?

. He’s like this with everyone, right ?

. Oh honey.

. You take these actions as part of his character, while he assume he act this way because of his admiration for you being so nice to him !

. I mean you are one of the few who do talk to him without insult

. It never clicks for him what the feeling really is

. That’s until one day

. [ Shinobu ] “Good evening Tomioka”

. [ Giyu ] “Evening Shinobu”

. [ Shinobu ] “You look as bland and boring as ever. How are you”

. [ Giyu ] *no answer*

. [ Shinobu ] “I must say without your little friend you somehow appear more dull. It is odd to catch a moment with you two apart”

. [ Giyu ] *nothing*

. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “It’s almost like you two are in a romantic relationship with how close you are.”

. His heart stops with that comment

. And his brain finally realize the feeling

. I mean he’s never felt this way before ♡

. His eyes trail off and soften, catching Shinobu attention

. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “ I was only just kidding. It’s not like someone like Y/n could admire your dull personality”

. Oh. Right.

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. “YOU ARE ONE SKILLED SLAYER” “I ADMIRE YOUR TECHNIQUES” “GREAT JOB” “YOU HAVE INCREDIBLE SKILLS” “WONDERFUL WORK”

. He praises you non stop

. I mean who wouldn’t with your talent !

. You take his compliments as a part of his cheerful personality and respect it

. And maybe take a bit of flattery with it ><

. He does too

. He just admires you skill is all

…….

. He offers to dine with you or take you out to eat

. “Y/N WOULD YOU LIKE TO SPEND TIME AND DINE WITH ME!?”

. [ You ] “Oh um, sure okay!”

. “SPLENDID, LETS GET ON OUR WAY!”

. He always ask where you are

. Remembers the small things

. You like that color ? Oh look he just bought you a keychain with it. That’s your favorite food? Guess that’s where you guys are eating tonight

. His acts of romantic feelings fly over both of your guys head

. But not to anybody else

. *Kyojuro and you side by side laughing together*

. [ Slayer 1 ] “Are they together?”

. [ Slayer 2 ] “isn’t it obvious ?”

𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You guys are actually inspectable

. Always together <3

. She loves your company !

. Mitsuri finds everything about you adorable

. From they way you eat to your fighting techniques

. You make her feel safe ♡

. More touchy with you than others [ expect hugs, face pokes and hand holding when she’s around ]

. She definitely realizes her feelings for you

. She is the love hashira after all

. But she doesn’t act on it afraid you won’t feel the same and forever ruin the relationship you guys already have

. She’s oblivious to the shared love you have for one another

. *Mitsuri thoughts* Oh they just see me as a friend

. Mhm okay ._.

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. This one is a slow burn

. Every mission with you she seems to oddly enjoy

. Whenever you walk into her estate she feels a warmth

. Her heart flutters whenever you hug her or compliment her

. Your smile makes her smile

. She always watches you [ not in a creepy way >< ]

. She just finds herself drunk on the way your eyes light up

. Once it hits her why she feel this way poor girl try’s to ignore it

. Afraid to allow herself to get too close in this field of work

. But the heart wants what is wants ♡

. You begin to dine after missions together

. Have light conversation when running into each other

. And occasionally meet ups outside of work

. She compliments you often

. Once you start to spend more time together she will accidentally graze her hand over you thigh or your fingers just to see you reaction

. This girl knows what she’s doing

────────────────────────

A/n

ᴀʜʜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ !! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ <3 ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

────────────────────────────────────────

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a1tie · 10 months

Text

𝓢𝓾𝓻𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓮…

A small smut fic of you and Giyuu fucking in the bedroom…except…

NSFW! RECOMMENDED 16+

A/N: If you like music, I recommend reading this while listening to Say Yes by Floetry! >.<

word count: 386

warning tags: No plot.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Breathing…panting..whining..moaning…

The dim-lit bedroom just gets hotter and hotter as the heat between your bodies and your breath fill the air. Giyuu towers over you, his body between your legs as one is over his shoulder for easier access. Your walls seemed to be everything he ever wanted, as he grunts and moans every thrust he makes. You loll your head to the side, your tits bouncing every inward push. Giyuu grabs your chin and redirects your head to face him. You whine as you both lock eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

You have to admit. You looking at Giyuu and taking in the view of him enjoying himself gets you even more turned on. There isn’t a lot of times when his usual demeanor is ruined by your inner walls clenched around his cock, fucking you senseless.

He takes his hand off your chin as he places it beside your head. The way your head stayed in place even when he let it go, and you still maintaining eye contact with him sent a shock of pleasure. Such an obedient girl, no?

Your legs started to jerk as you moaned and slurred your words. The sensation of being filled and empty again repeatedly threw you off the edge. Your eyelids flutter as you rolled your eyes to the back of your head. You grab onto his haori, clumsily missing it the first time from the seemingly unending pleasure.

“Rig..hah…right there. Right thERE~” The intensity of your words increased as your feet pointed and curled. You arch your back, gripping the sheets of the bed. Your legs start to shake violently. As soon as you clench your pussy, he lets out a loud grunt as he bites his lower lip. His grunts continue as ropes of semen land in you. The feeling was overwhelming. You controlled yourself, slowly exhaling whines and moans as he keeps inserting to let his and your high subside. He grabs your breast for useless support, and leans down to kiss you. You and his tongue intertwine, hands touching sensually in places that you never knew were so sensitive. This is the third time you both have been so desperate for each other. When will this progress? You will never know, but the scandal sure does arouse you.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

mwah!~ based on a request from one of my mutuals on Tiktok!

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slayfics · 11 months

Text

Muichiro gets jealous when another Hashira looks after you on a mission.

Muichiro was sitting down leaning against a tree, not too far outside his mansion. He knew he had a long night ahead of him patrolling his area, so he took these few peaceful moments of twilight to sip some tea before heading out.

That was when he looked up to see you returning to the mansion. You had been gone out on a mission for a few days. Since you had been training so hard, you were sometimes sent on solo missions without him now.

Muichiro was proud of your improvement but he found himself occasionally worrying about you when you were gone for long periods of time. Seeing you return in one piece caused him to relax more against the tree.

"Hi Tokito!" You greeted the Hashira.

"Welcome back, how was your mission?" He asked, then grazed his eyes across you and noticed some blood on your sleeve.

"It went well I-" You started to say but Muichiro cut you off.

"You're hurt." He stated staring at the blood on your sleeve.

"Oh it's not that bad." You said trying to brush off his statement then hid your arm behind your back.

"Come here." He demanded and set down his tea.

You sat down next to him and he pulled up your sleeve to inspect the injury, but he found it had already been wrapped and tended to.

"Iguro helped me!" You said. Muichiro noticed the smile that spread across your face, and the slightest increase of your heart rate when you spoke the other Hashira's name. He had no explanation for it but he suddenly felt nauseous and hot.

"I ran into him on my mission and he taught me how to dress my wound. He said it wasn't anything big enough to go to the butterfly mansion about."

While you explained, Muichiro still had his hand on your rolled up sleeve and he stared intently at your wrapped wound while he tried to make sense of the overwhelming feeling that was coming over him. He should be grateful Obanai was there to help, but instead he felt like shoving his face in the dirt the next time he crossed paths with him. He noticed the excitement in your voice when you talked about Obanai and he couldn't help but wonder why.

"You like him?" Muichiro asked. A question that surprised you.

"Well I respect him as a Hashira of course." You answered confused by the question.

"Your heart rate increased when you spoke his name. Do you like him?" Muichiro further questioned.

"Tokito... are you... are you jealous that Iguro helped me?" You asked.

Jealous? Is that what this feeling was? Muichiro finally let go of your sleeve and looked off into the distance. What sense did being jealous make? As hard as Muichiro tried he couldn't think of a logical explanation to be jealous...

"No. What sense would being jealous make." Muichiro finally stated and looked at you.

"Hm... well ok then. I guess that means you won’t mind that I was just on my way to write Iguro a letter. I want to thank him again for staying with me through the night while I felt better." You said playfully and got up to walk away. Muichiro reached up quickly, grabbed you around your waist and pulled you down to sit between his legs. You now sat facing away from him, back resting against his chest.

"No." Was all Muichiro managed to say. He felt his body tremble in a way he did not recognize. He still wasn't understanding his own emotions, all he knew was he wanted you far away from Obanai.

"I knew it! You are jealous!" You exclaimed.

"What do you mean he stayed with you? How did he stay with you?" Muichiro asked, arms wrapped around you squeezing you tighter against him. The image in his head of you with Obanai was making him sick.

"I just meant he waited with me till I was ok to make the journey back here. What did you think I meant??"

Muichiro didn't answer but rested his head on top of yours causing his hair to cascade around you. In this position you could feel how fast his heart was racing.

"I don't like Igruo." You said hoping to help Muichiro relax. You realized now your teasing had gone too far. However, you had never seen Muichiro react this way and you wanted more insight to his true feelings for you.

"Are you still hurt? Do you need me to stay with you?" Muichiro asked.

"I'm feeling much better. I know you have to do your patrol soon, but when you get back... you know you're always welcome to stay with me... and you should know that isn't something I'd offer Iguro to do."

Muichiro was glad you were facing away from him and couldn't see the flushed color his face turned from your invitation.

"Ok. I'll stay with you when I get back, and I will teach you how to redress your wound because you're my Tsuguko."

"Yes, I'm yours Tokito." You smiled, amused by Muichiro’s sudden possessiveness over you.

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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

Text

(y/n) sparing Kokushibo's life for him to save her

Pairing: Kokushibo x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,9k

Synopsis: You find yourself standing in front of none other than the upper moon one. And while you know your chances are low and that your life might end in the dusk of day, you are able to cage Kokushibo into the upgoing sun. Until his eyes are filled with sorrow, until you make a decicion that might cost your life...

Warnings: this is my first ever Kokushibo fic so please let me know what you think! Like for Yorichii, I inserted a few pics into the fanfic itself so be prepared, angst to fluff, not proofread yet, NO MANGA SPOILERS 🤍

Special thanks to my dear @lavenderdrxp for the request!

The cold air of the night lashes against your sensitive skin without mercy, only warmed by your blood that runs down your frame like rivers. You are so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of your life. Why did you decide on becoming a demon slayer, developing into a quite skilled hashira? Right, because one of them murdered your whole village without blinking, because you wanted to protect humans from their cruel hands.

Your fingers start to tremble uncontrollably while you hold onto your sword for dear life, the handle smeared in crimson. The second you laid your eyes on him, felt his presence, you saw death itself. You’ve never encountered one of the upper moons carefully chosen by Muzan Kibutsuji himself. Until today, you were so keen to win this endless fight, thought you’d stand a chance against the demon king.

“Give up your dreams and die.”

But the man in front of you is the upper moon one. The man in front of you was able to almost kill you with just one skilled slash of his sword. Is this how you’ll die? In a 10-minute fight with a demon? Of course, you always knew your life would end like this. After all, this is the fate of a demon slayer, this is what you chose.

But…you don’t want to die. You want to live a long and healthy life, want to eat mochis until sunset and play cards with your friends.

“I will never give up”, you press out, dashing forward over and over again.

Your body begs you to stop and rest, to let your blade fall and never return to this life. But instead, you stare into his cold eyes, those beautiful colourful orbs that would fascinate you in another situation. How did a man like him end up being such a powerful demon?

“Foolish human. Do you really think you are able to defeat me?”

Your eyes dart up to the sky above. That cursed night that makes it possible for these creatures to walk on earth freely. But that faint shimmer of orange tells you that day will soon arrive, that maybe…

It might be stupid to even consider a win, that you’ll make it out of here alive. But if you are able to entertain him for a couple more minutes and trap him until sunrise, you’d be able to not only escape, but kill him.

Your mind starts to race, eyes scanning his body up and down. He’s quite tall and muscular, it won’t be easy to defeat him without any weapons. No, not even your katana will be enough. But maybe the poison you created with Shinobu-san will be.

“Use this against a demon whenever you feel like you can’t defeat him otherwise. This will make any demon unable to move for at least a few minutes.”

Every demon, she said. Every demon definitely includes the man standing in front of you. But will this be enough, are you actually skilled enough to even hit him? You need to inject the poison into his body, meaning a slice with your poisoned blade would be more than enough.

But that means you have to land a hit.

“You’re a fool if you really think I’ll give up so easily.”

Kokushibo needs to move, needs to end this fight before the sun starts to rise. You’re a hashira, his worst enemy. But instead, he can’t help but stare at you through the darkness of the night. You seem so unbothered by his presence, so confident in your abilities that it simply sweeps him off his feet.

Are you actually dumb enough to underestimate him? No, the fact that you keep your save distance to his sword tells him more than urgently that you know very well who is standing in front of you. No, your firm believe in yourself is enough to make you stand your ground.

And again, you dash towards him, holding onto your sword so tightly that your knuckles stand out white. He dodges your attack with ease, slicing through your tender flesh too light to hurt you critically. Oh, he knows all too well that he’s holding back, that you should be dead already. Why is he not able to end this fight, to finally get rid of you? Your eyes seem to gleam in the darkness, light up the word around him. When was the last time he saw the sun? He can’t remember. But your eyes have to be close.

A sudden pain crawling up his back rips him out of his pondering. What was that? Did you manage to hit him, is the sun starting to rise? Slowly he turns around, eyes finding your cramped-up figure on the floor. His flesh starts to heal in an instant, the only hint for your attack being a minor cut in his cloak. Yes, you indeed managed to hit him.

“I thought you are a hashira. Aren’t you aware that as a demon, I’m healing in an instant?”

Your heavy breaths hang in the air between both of you, your blood discolouring the forest ground crimson while your hands dig into the mud. This was all you’ve had left. It has to be enough, the poison has to function. Otherwise…

Your tired eyes dart towards him and the way he slowly approaches you. Will this be your end? Like in slow motion he raises his sword over your head, ready to behead you. At least you did what you could, faced him with everything you’ve head. Becoming a demon slayer meant being ready to give your life sooner or later. You allow your lids to rest, awaiting the bow of his sharp blade in silence. At least your end will be graceful, right?

But instead of his sharp blade, you are greeted by his tall figure crashing into you onto the ground. Is this real? Did the poison work? You force your eyes open, heart almost beating out of your chest when you begin to realize.

You made it. Despite the stinging fact that this man is the upper moon one, you somehow managed to stand up against him and steal his ability to move.

“You…poisoned…me”, he presses out.

What a fool he was for sparing your life when he had the chance to kill you so easily. Now the sun slowly but surely starts to rise, makes his skin burn uncomfortably while his venomous eyes stare right through your soul. You really are a brave one, bright orbs set on him while you free yourself from the pressure of his body above you.

“I did what I have to do. You are my enemy.”

Yes, you have to remind yourself over and over again. It doesn’t matter that his facial features suddenly begin to soften, you really don’t care about the way he stares into the rising sun. No, it doesn’t bother you that he looks almost…hurt.

“I haven’t seen a sunrise for a long time”, he mumbles.

“I love to see the sun rise. There is no better feeling than the first warm rays of the day against bare skin and that striking colours painted in the sky.”

“You look exactly like a woman who adores sunrises”, he comments so tenderly that you rip your gaze away from the orange sky for a second.

“And you look like a man who did as well”, you reply without thinking twice.

In the dim light he looks breathtakingly gorgeous. Yes, there is no doubt that this demon once was a handsome man with the kindest eyes. You hold your breath, the mark engraved into his eye reminding you more than urgently that this man is indeed a powerful demon. You should leave him to the sheer force of the sun, let him burn for all the sins he committed. But instead, a deep grief holds onto your heart tightly.

“I did indeed.”

Is that a tear escaping his eye? No, impossible. No demon you ever encountered cried, regretted his actions. Does he feel the presence of death haunting after him, the way his skin starts to burn under the first rays of sunshine? His forehead starts to redden before catching fire, making a deep whimper escape his lips.

“Do you want to live on?”

What a stupid question to ask, how reckless to even talk to him. Why does your hand cup his cheek all of the sudden, why do you feel sorry for one of the strongest demons in existence?

“Maybe dying in the upgoing sun is more than I am able to ask for”, he speaks out slowly and reserved.

Your mind starts to raise, comes up with a plan more poisonous than anything Shinobu has ever created. This is ridiculous to even think about, you are a demon slayer, a hashira to be exact. The thought alone is ridiculous.

But not ridiculous enough to stop yourself from grabbing him under his armpits and start hovering him into the safety of the thick woods, away from the dangerous rays of sunshine. You feel like fainting, your very own blood following you behind like a trail while you huff in exhaustion. But still, you keep on moving, shield his body from the sun with your blood-soaked coat while all he does is staring at the angelic sky.

This will be the death of you, as soon as he regains the power over his body, he’ll slice you into pieces. Why? Why are you not strong enough to outstand your pity, why weren’t you able to leave him to his fate? Instead, you find yourself hauling him up a pair of stairs leading into an abandoned cottage you’ve known for years. This is your safe place, your retreat from this cruel world.

And this will be the place you lose your life in.

You fall onto the cold wooden floor the second the door behind both of you is closed, your mouth tasting like iron while coughing up blood. You must be severely injured, given the fact how numb your body starts to feel and how your heart seems to beat slower with every passing minute.

Your eyes catch his shadow next to you, how it builds up into its old frightening gloom. The poison must have worn off, gave him back the ability to move freely. You swallow hard, glossy eyes widened in thick horror.

This will be your end.

“Why did you save me?”

His dark voice sends shivers down your spine, the sheer presence of his powers alone while laying on the floor helplessly almost making you lose your composure.

“I don’t know”, you mumble in response, voice nothing more than a fade away whisper.

His heavy yet light footsteps make the floor vibrate underneath his weight when he crosses the room and comes to a stand in front of you. All you can do is stare at his feet next to your head, waiting for your certain death.

“I’m the upper moon one”, he reminds you.

“And I’m…a hashira…”

You feel the wood next to you give in under his weight as he kneels down next to you, six eyes staring at you intensely. Why…why is he still hesitating? It wouldn’t be hard to kill you in the state you are in, even though the sun now almost fully rose. What a victory, killing another hashira off with ease, coming closer to being the strongest.

Kokushibo can’t help but admire you for the way you still carry yourself with so much pride. Despite the fact that you’ll die within an hour if not treated, despite his sheer presence by your side, your eyes still hold contact with his unwavering. Like in trance he leans forward, lets go of the handle of his sword for the first time since forever. As gentle as his hands remember to move, he places them onto your stomach, watches as your eyes fill with dread. Is he even able to use his powers after all this time ignoring them? He has to try.

The room lights up in red as your body seems to burn alive, a silent scream escaping your lips before you are able to stop it. Out of instinct, you grab on of his hands, hold onto it tightly while waiting for the sharp pain haunting down your body.

But nothing happens. No, it almost feels as if…your pain slowly fades away.

“You…You healed me”, you breathe out in utter disbelief, chest rising and falling so sharply that oxygen refuses to fill your lungs.

Your hands wander around your body rapidly, scan every inch of your busted skin to be greeted by nothing.

“You healed me.”

“You saved me”, he replies briefly, hands still pressed onto your stomach ever so slightly.

Time stands still, the only thing you can think about are his eyes. The eyes that were filled with sorrow when staring into certain death, the eyes that roamed around your body to check for your injuries, the eyes that are now locked with yours.

“Thank you.”

“I need to thank you as well”, he answers calmly.

“I-…”

You don’t know what to say. Is all of this just a dream? This creature, this force of a man kneeling next to you is none other than the upper moon one, the most dangerous demon after Muzan Kibusuji himself. But he didn’t kill you. No, in fact he even healed your severe wounds, saved your life instead of sinking his teeth into you.

He spared you.

Your life was saved by a demon.

“Join the demon slayer corps. Come with me.”

Your words leave your mouth faster than you are able to even think, regret immediately washing over you like a wave. What on earth were you just saying?

“Did you forget how I am?”

“In exchange for saving your life”, you continue.

He just stares at you, eyes widen in sheer surprise. He expected everything when he followed your tracks tonight, the mission Muzan Kibutsuji entrusted Kokushibo with still present in his mind. It was fairly simple: Kill the hashira with the bright orbs, the girl on her way to a nearby village flooded by demons.

But now that he’s sitting right next to you, his hands still resting against your stomach, your heartbeat pounding against his palms, he simply can’t imagine to end your life right here and now. No, the urge to brush his fingertips over your cheek just once, to feel the heat of your skin becomes almost unbearable. Is it because of your innocent eyes, because you saved him despite he injured you severely?

“We live in different worlds, (y/n). It is simply impossible for me to be a part of yours.”

Your stomach drops by the way he says your name, breath getting stuck in your throat. You’ve seen countless demons in your life, always hated every single one with all of your heart. But this man showed you his real face, that he is still human after all these years. Maybe there is still hope, maybe turning into a demon doesn’t have to be a death sentence. Maybe…maybe you’ll be able to save Tanjiro Kamado’s sister.

“Promise that we’ll meet each other again. Promise me that you’ll visit me here right here again soon”, you urge.

“I…”

Kokushibo is los at words, lost in your bright orbs, lost in your tenderness. Not so long ago, he was on his way to end your life violently, to kill you and leave with the arrival of the sun. But now he finds himself right by your side, his mind wandering just by the exciting thought of meeting you again.

“I will visit you again”, he finally gives in.

“Good”, you breathe out.

“Now, tell me a little about yourself. After all, we are trapped here until the sun goes down.”

“I don’t enjoy talking that much.”

“Come on…”

-one year later-

Your eyes gleam in the down-going sun, whole body electrified in excitement. Only a few minutes before the sun is gone, only a few minutes until you finally see him again. As much as you adore the play of colours in the sky just before the sun sets, you started to love the tenderness of the night far more.

Because it means he’s able to walk freely, because it means finally seeing him again.

“There you are, sweetheart.”

Your heart skips a beat, cheeks already heating up before you even turned around. You wrap your arms around his tall figure in an instant, his thumb gently stroking over your forehead.

"I still despise that scar", he states, eyes lost in your sight.

He was the one who did this to you, the one who almost killed you that night.

“That was long ago, Koku, please don't worry about it. I missed you, where have you been?”

There he stands as charismatic as ever, his sheer presence alone signalling nothing but power. You never fail to notice that he’s around no matter where you are, looking after you while fighting off demons. Oh, how much he hates to hide in the shadow, to keep his affection a secret. But there is no way he’ll allow any other upper moon to harm a single hair on your body, let alone Muzan Kibutsuji himself.

Gently, you wrap your arms around him the way he adores so much, rest your head against his chest while he strokes your hair gently.

“I need to keep you save, I am not risking your life over one meeting, (y/n)”, he explains in all seriousness.

“I’d rather die than not seeing you”, you reply with a grin.

“Don’t say that, (y/n)”, he warns you while wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

Need more? Click here for my Yoriichi x fem!reader fic!

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @snowywhiterose @chosomybeloved3

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anahida · 2 years

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A Modern AU Demon Slayer Fanfic x several other anime crossover, happening in around 2017-present in a setting pretty similar to that of Kimetsu Academy.

Featuring my drawing of Enmu in Laura Palmer's meanwhile pose.

Chapter 1: Ethereal Blonde (not in a chronological order. This chapter happens in around May 2017)

Plot: The story mainly revolves around Enmu and and some OCs as well as some canon characters, crossover ones included. This chapter, however, is basically on a teenage Enmu getting high and hallucinating about a character from a 90’s TV show.

Characters: Enmu Tamio, Manjiro Tamio (Enmu’s cousin in modern AU, OC, mentioned), Featuring a virtually unreal appearance of Laura Palmer from Twin Peaks

Warnings: Pretty descriptive use of drugs (I’m not prmoting them in any way, they just seemed necessary for this plot), hallucinations, depression, mental illnesses, the whole thing is pretty much angsty, mentions of past trauma and abuse, romantic-ish stuff, and an overall weird plot.

~*~

Enmu was sitting on the couch in front of the TV after watching Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me. He just froze there for a few minutes as tears streamed down his face uncontrollably. His heart ached from the pain of having to watch someone go through something similar to what he had suffered through lately, and even end up dead. Even if he already knew what had happened to Laura by watching the series itself, it hurt on a whole new level to see the actual thing happen in the movie. As much as he tried not to cry when watching shows, it became too difficult sometimes. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a mental illness and an addiction that made all that seem more real to him than everyone else. He was only fifteen and he'd seen hell. He'd been abused and almost killed, and also had blood on his hands. He wished he could get lost in another world for a while and forget his miserable existence, but this one seemed even worse than the world he lived in. Laura Palmer could not defend herself the way he had managed to, and that made Enmu devastated. She didn't deserve that.

The broken teenager looked around to see if anyone was around. His aunt was at work, and his cousin was hanging out with his friends. Friends they'd once shared. Enmu then reached into his pocket and took out a small packet of cocaine. He'd been getting these for a while now, from a drug dealer kid named Rui. Enmu had no time or energy to think about why someone so young had got into something like that. After all, he was only a few years older and had already killed someone. He opened the packet and just looked at it for a few seconds. He'd probably done a line or two more than ten times before, but still felt a little guilty when he held the cocaine in his hands. If his father was still alive, he would have been devastated. He sighed. No need to think about it right now. He took a bit of the powder out with a trembling finger and sniffed it, feeling a sharp pain go up to his nose as he breathed it in. He felt himself begin to feel a little better immediately and he quickly took another puff of the cocaine. Then another one, then another, then another... Enmu had lost count after about the first dozen. By now though, he didn't care anymore. He wanted nothing more than to feel numb to everything in his life. And if that meant that he did drugs to get high, who cared. What mattered was that he was able to escape from the harsh reality.

Everything seemed better now. The pain from his broken rib which still hurt after a whole damn month was gone, and so was the pain of the humiliation and abuse he'd faced. He cursed his cousin Manjiro once again for getting him into his nasty delinquent business. That damned boy was still out there having fun with his gang friends, not having suffered in the slightest, while Enmu was about to pass out on the couch, wondering if there was any point in living. It was strange how his anger and sadness hadn't completely faded under the influence of the drug yet. Only the pain was numbed somehow. Both the emotional one and the physical one.

After a few minutes, Enmu heard footsteps and then someone sat beside him. Someone whose presence he instantly felt calmer about, even though he didn't recognize them.

"Hey..." came a quiet voice next to his ear.

He turned towards the other person, his eyes barely open. He looked away immediately when he realized who it was. Laura. She was real?! She was there in his living room? The drugs had taken effect to the point where Enmu didn't exactly realize that this was merely a hallucination. It wasn't the first time either. The boy had been having such encounters occasionally, for as long as he could remember. His recent trauma and the cocaine only made them more often and more vivid. So vivid that they'd become real to him in some ways.

He turned his head to Laura again.

She looked scared, and Enmu saw tears welling up in her eyes. She was looking at him worriedly. He frowned slightly as he tried to focus. Why was she crying?

"I'm sorry...." she whispered.

His eyes widened and he tried to sit up straight. He blinked a couple of times, realizing that he couldn't move.

"Why are you in my house?" he asked.

He heard her sigh and then felt her hands gently resting on top of his. They were warm, and gentle against his skin.

Laura didn't say anything. Instead, she moved closer to Enmu until their faces were inches apart. Her blonde hair swayed gently in front of them and Enmu found himself admiring her appearance. She had never looked that good to him before. Her green eyes sparkled beautifully, reflecting the light from the television screen. Her lips formed a soft smile and Enmu's breath hitched in his throat. Was he actually seeing this girl? She seemed so real.

"Are you okay?" Laura asked softly.

Enmu nodded slightly. He felt his heart beating faster and faster. This was real, he thought. The girl on TV was real.

"Are you sure?" Laura continued.

Enmu shook his head slightly and smiled weakly at her. She looked genuinely concerned. Enmu liked that look on her face. No girl had ever looked at him like that before. No other girl had ever even acknowledged his existence before this ethereal blonde who had just walked right out of his TV.

'I'm not okay, if you want the truth.' He said to her. 'But you... You also have tears in your eyes.' He added silently.

Laura chuckled lightly and brushed her fingers through the black strands of Enmu's hair. It made him blush as he felt some sort of satisfaction build up deep within his soul. Unbelievable. A woman's touch. Perhaps that's what he had been craving all along. Too bad it was only a figment of his twisted imagination. Too bad he would come to realize that pretty soon... And too bad that he wasn't going to accept it.

'This isn't about me, Enmu.' She said. 'It's about you. I know what has happened to you, and it makes me sad.'

A tear trickled down Enmu's cheek as he heard those words. He wiped it away.

'But how?! How do you know who I am and what I've been through?' He asked.

She paused for a moment, and then answered him.

"Because... because we're connected, Enmu."

"How is that even possible? How did you get here anyway? How did you get out of the TV?'

"I can't tell you, I'm afraid. But I promise you I'll try my best to help you."

Enmu swallowed hard, knowing that she might not be able to help him. She might not be able to do anything.

"What are you saying to me?" he asked, almost pleadingly.

"If you want to find out, we could take a walk through our dreams. We might be able to find answers there, together."

He looked at her curiously but still stayed silent. She slowly removed her hand from Enmu's and stood up, walking around his couch and helping him up. "Let's go." she offered.

Enmu simply stared at her for a second before taking her hand in his again and letting her guide him out into the street.

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kaicubus · 1 year

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Hidden in the Trees | Karaku

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warnings ✩° : 18+ smut, cunnilingus, a pinch of degrading, mostly praise, demon sex, size difference, overstimulation!receiving, some masochism!receiving, consensual sex, cursing.

pairing ✩° : karaku x fem hashira!reader

premise ✩° : after escaping the fourth upper moon hantengu, you find yourself running into a forest with what seems to have no exit. with no other way to go, you're forced to face the strangest of the demon clones, the pleasure demon.

word count ✩° : 4.2k

authors note ✩° : yippee another one down!! 2/4 look out for the rest...trying to get them all down in a timely fashion plz bear with me!!

part one here!

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Was this the same demon from before? There was no way. The demon standing in front of you looked pleasant. Still, demon like, with thick veins pumping cold blood around his eyes and a plum-like color darkening his under eyes and forehead. What irked you most was that this clearly was one of Hantengu’s clones, but it looked nothing like who you saw before. This one, was attractive, almost, with a much more muscular built and tall stature. Now, he looks like a worthy opponent, all in all which terrifies you. Was he really the same demon who was crawling on the ground before?

You shift your feet into an instinctive kill mode, feet planted firm into the ground below, your movements making crunching noises against the plethora of dry leaves. You gain awareness of all the trees surrounding you two, the green of their lushness flurrying down. It’s an uncanny sort of feeling. For some reason, even when faced with one of the most powerful ranked demons, the setting around you was eerily calm. Not just the way the leaves fall slowly and the wind just barley picks up, but the demon who stands before you seems like he has already won the battle that hasn’t even started yet.

You stare at the green eyed demon with a murderous glint in your eyes and thinly pressed lips, mentally preparing for the worst. But, instead, the worst doesn’t happen. Rather than harvesting your life, you hear a lowly chuckle almost gurgle out of the demon’s throat, paired with a loud thumping noise start to approach you, slow enough to notice the horrible sinking feeling in your gut but too fast for you to do anything about it. With every step closer, the demon’s smile grows, watching as you move backwards right into the thick trunk of a tree.

You look back, then back at him, feeling a cold sweat start to form on your brow, mostly from confusion as to why this demon is so calm. He doesn't even look like a demon, and certainly doesn't look human. With your shoulders square, you back into the tree even more and hold your sword further in front of you, not being able to hide your shakes as the shirtless figure is now standing over you.

As the shadow of the night leak through the thick foliage of the trees above, the dark markings on this clone’s face make him even more spine chilling. He’s so close,

“And you thought I wouldn't catch up. You managed to lose me back there.” The demon speaks, holding his square shoulders up low, almost relaxed like. “I’ve fought humans before, but, I didn't think anyone could ever outrun me. I’m impressed. You have my attention.”

Have his attention? In what world would you ever want his attention? You wanted to scream at him, rip his head off with your bear hands, end this, and go home, but the demon in front of you clearly isn't taking you seriously.

“Is this a game to you?!” Your shoulders tense, anger piquing as you grip onto your sword handle more.

“To me, of course. But to you, it might be a bit more scarier than a game.” The demon in front of you draws his claws up to your chin and raises your face up to his unmatched, demonic height. The dark emerald green color fills your vision and that’s when you finally realize which clone of Hantengu’s he is.

“Karaku.” You mutter under your breath. Karaku, the demon clone who possesses the pleasure emotion of his host. You always thought that out of all the emotions Hantengu could have, pleasure was surely the weirdest one. That said, you didn’t know what you were up against, in fact the thought alone of what pleasure entailed made you nearly weep with all the gruesome feelings imaginable. But you hold your ground.

Karaku smiles slowly at you, his head tilting down and even closer to you, nearly enough to kiss you. Despite what you think, there’s no seemingly malicious bone in his body. Yet at least.

“That’s right. You know who I am. That’s good. Now, could I ask what a demon slayer like you is doing alone? And with no sword, that’s kind of like your whole thing right? You wave around a sword and slice my head off, right?” Karaku shifts his hand onto his face, curling his cold fingers on his cheek, “With no sword...and clearly no ability to actually fight me. You’re useless. Right? That makes this fun.”

You look down at your sword, confused, but suddenly feel a harsh gust of wind blow your way, knocking you off your feet.

There’s only a second from that to the moment where your back hits the ground and your sword is thrown out of your hand. Upon impact, you close your eyes and throw your crossed arms over your face, fear stinging your senses, before you open your eyes again to see the demon directly on top of you. The demonic look in his eyes is enough to make you shriek, just before he lunges down with his mouth open.

With a grunt, you kick the center of his chest, only managing to blow enough air to thrust his charcoal black hair off his shoulders. Your efforts amuse the sick entity, reflecting in a cynical grin accompanied by a squinted smile of the demon. Still, you grit your teeth and continue pushing on his firm, muscular chest. The least you can do is try to survive as long as you can before someone finds you. Surely anyone can recognize you're gone and will come search for you. Right?

“Was that supposed to hurt?” Karaku chuckles hoarsely, “Because it was more pleasant than I expected. Maybe I am stronger than I thought. That’s nice.” His smile deepens. “Don’t you realize how easy it is for me to overpower you, and kill you? I could tear you open, drain your blood, and eat your flesh in seconds. And you think a measly kick can stop me?”

With his hand straddling your ankle, you mentally curse at the undeniable realization that you can’t even get out from his grasp.

“Say, I never caught your name. What was it, hashira?”

Your eyes quickly glance down at his position, how his legs are properly situated between your trembling thighs, ankles quivering at the demon above you, yet he remains calm and stares, waiting for your response.

So you swallow all your anxiety and answer. “Y/n. My name is Y/n.”

“You’ve come to kill me? Right?” Karaku inches closer, revealing his elongated teeth poking out from his warm lips. A chill runs down your spine. He’s already thinking of eating me. “Hey, right?”

“Yes!” You grit your teeth and remind him who has a foot pressed against him, shoving the bottom of your shoe into him harder. Karaku doesn’t pay any mind to it though. He knows you’re trying to gain the upper hand, it’s a game he knows all too well. But he’s tired of fighting, and for once he deserves a break from killing and eating human flesh. Well, not entirely the second one. Being the most relaxed clone of Hantengu, it’s easy for Karaku to analyze situation and step back when he needs to. He feels no sympathy for his victims, yet the experiences they give him fulfill him so much more than any killing could. Even if sometimes he can kill two birds with one stone.

Your eyes dart around his face. You can’t even tell what he’s thinking with such a relaxed expression. But Karaku quickly reaches for the inner side of your ankle and tugs you closer to him.

“You know...” Karaku says, just barley above a whisper, “A hashira shouldn't be so worked up meeting me. Wouldn't wanna worry your pretty head, I’m just a big scary demon is all. I don’t want to hurt you.” His hands skitter up your ankle all the way to your thigh, rubbing methodically in wide circles just to avoid suspicion. With a tainted grin, Karaku’s hand travels up your skirt, pushing the pleated fabric out of the way. Before you can protest or kick him further, it finally clicks in your mind that you had no safety shorts or shorts at all protecting under your skirt. As the demon corps uniform protocol calls for, all you have on is your skirt and your panties underneath, which in this moment serves as a great disadvantage to your dignity.

Quickly, you buckle your knees together, making a quick bucking sound from your kneecaps clashing, followed by a small wince after. This in turn, piques Karaku’s interest and the devilish grin you've grown so fond of returns once again.

“Of all the things...” Karaku says giddily, “Of all the things you choose to protect. That’s, your main concern? What are you hiding from me, puny hashira?”

You feel your throat close. Just as you’d hoped to keep your life by protecting yourself, you’d failed to distract him from possibly the most insignificant worry you had suddenly realized. Now he was intrigued and now there was no way out of his curiosity.

Karaku’s claws move up your skirt further, now not pulling you into his chest, but rather peeling back the fabric akin to selfishly unwrapping a present not meant for him, revealing a pair of tight, white underwear. The best part?

There’s a wet spot smack center in the middle, all for Karaku to see and instantly take notice in. When his eyes dart to your entrance, you feel your soul leave your body. There’s no denying the attraction you’d felt to Karaku before, but you never would’ve guessed that it resulted in this. Still, you hold your breath and stare up at him, knees now separated and your face dripping with sweat. Karaku on the other hand, parts his lips, revealing his elongated canines and a raised brow, perplexed yet interested. He lets out a soft chuckle as his rough hands turn soft with feather like touches around your waist.

“Hm, that’s strange.” Karaku says, eyes widening owlishly with curiosity, “I haven’t even done anything…and yet…” he prods a finger forward and touches lightly on the front of your underwear, pressing down on the darkened wet spot growing larger by the second. You look away shamefully and mumble incoherently under your breath, too embarrassed to look the demon in his green eyes as his smile widens from ear to pointed ear. “You’re wet right here. That means you like me, huh?”

“W-Wait—” You stare helplessly at Karaku rubs his thumb over your clothed pussy, swirling the slick underneath the thin layer of cotton. Instinctively, your hips jerk forward and you find yourself gasping for air, not out of fear, but out of pleasure. It’s strange, but Karaku only smiles, his expression turning almost lovingly as he leans forward and closes the gap between you both. With his lips on yours, you feel his tongue push past your locked teeth and glide right under yours, licking every surface of your mouth.

“Mm! Mhh!” You squeeze your eyes tighter and attempt to grab hold of his wrist, failing in the process and only making the position more intimate as Karaku lowers his position onto you. When he breaks the kiss, it doesn't take long before his hungry and curious lips find another curve of your body to settle on, marking his territory all the way down to your chest, unbuttoning your uniform with his teeth, and to your skirt, where he tears that off too, and finally settling right in between your plush, doughy thighs. All the way, your breathing deepens, skin glowing red at this point, not sure what he’ll do next.

“We don’t need all those anymore, I need to see your lovely figure for me to be satisfied. Doesn’t the air feel nice, Y/n?” The demon strokes your sides with the tip of his claws, tracing lines into your untouched skin. His mind reels at your warmness, the way your blood rushes inside your body, and how he gets to feel and experience it all up close. Emerald green shimmers into your glossy eyes, and his silky, raven hair makes his demonic appearance all the more alluring, especially in such a delirious state.

“M-Mhm...” A breathy whine spills from your throat as soon as you feel his cheek press against the side of your inner thigh, his tongue soon following. You hadn't noticed it before, but now looking at it, you notice how the top of his tongue spells ‘pleasure’ in kanji.

Warm lips press against the side of your inner thigh, prying your legs open for the demon’s viewing, gently spreading your exposed cunt to him more and more. Every bone in your body tells you to stop him and kill him in fear of enjoying this too much, and yet, you watch him discover the most vulnerable part of you up close.

As if he can read your mind, Karaku looks back up to you and smirks, “Aren’t you going to tell me to stop? I don’t sense any displeasure coming from you, puny human, does that mean you want me to keep going?” Karaku says lowly, awaiting your answer.

“N-No...I-I don’t, I don’t want you to stop...” You say without thinking. That was all he needed to continue, and before you could get an understanding of what you just said, Karaku’s mouth finds your entrance and latches onto you very quickly.

You hadn’t even noticed he’d taken off your underwear a while back until you feel the heat of his branded tongue graze on the surface of your cunt, spooking you just a bit before your shoulders soften and your neck loses its structure.

Using his puckered lips, Karaku presses a soft kiss against your entrance, at first lightly. He kisses again, and again, until his welcoming kisses become more passionate and messy, all introductory formality being lost in his simmering curiosity. He’d never ate pussy before, though you could hardly tell, so naturally he’s very attentive to catering to your needs, looking up at you every chance he gets or as soon as he feels you twitch.

“H-Hah...wait just a minute...” You push your palm to his forehead to stop him, but stop instantly as Karaku presses your legs together, resulting in pushing himself further into you. The heated oral muscle greets you again, as well as the head rushing feeling of pure ecstasy. An ecstasy you're too ashamed of admitting you like.

“I’ve never tasted anything like this before.” Karaku says in between licks, “It’s so warm, and pleasant. I can’t help but wonder, isn't there a way to get more wet stuff out of here?” He purrs. Answering his own question, Karaku lowers his head and closes his eyes just enough so that only the tops of his lashes can be seen. You stifle out a struggled moan and shudder, hands curling into your messy clothes beneath you. Karaku continues to greet your dewy folds with his curved tongue, licking down on your sex and gathering up all the slick he can harvest on his tongue.

“A-Agh...W-Why don’t you just k-kill me? That’s far less embarrassing than—thIS!” You throw your head forward shamefully as Karaku’s tongue plunges deeper inside you, almost as if he’s telling you to stop talking. “K-Karaku!” Making a loud slurping noise, the demon pulls away and pants puffs of hot air onto your cunt, admiring the sheer glossiness it now has.

“You taste so good…delicious.” Karaku’s words are muffled as his mouth returns to your heat, pressing his branded tongue flat on your drooling pussy. Even if you tried moving away from him, it was no use. His fingers are practically embedded into your flesh, sharp claw-like fingernails drilling you and nearly drawing blood. You can hardly focus at the pain as Karaku licks bold stripes along your center, occasionally flicking the tip of his tongue faster than anything you’ve felt in your life. There was certainly no way to stop him.

“Karaku!” You whine, hips bucking in every which direction imaginable, “Karaku p-please!” It didn’t matter if you came once, twice, or even three times, with the speed of which he’s going, it’ll be impossible to pry him off your clit. That, and he just doesn’t want to.

“Is the puny hashira begging for me? Me? Oh, that makes me so fucking happy.” Karaku flashes his emerald green eyes back up at you, peeking up from in between your legs. “And I thought I’d never hear the words ‘please’ come out of your mouth. I guess I’ll take ‘p-please’ mh~!” Even though it’s wrong, even if this moment is frowned upon by any sane person, you can’t help but feel butterflies swarm inside the deepest parts of you, reminding you that no other person—or entity for that matter—has made you feel such pleasure. A red hue floods to your cheeks and you lean your head back, unable to withstand more than a seconds of eye contact.

Even just looking at you turned Karaku on. More than he’d like to admit. The sight of your head thrown back, mouth hung open, hair tangled and messy from the previous encounter, and now your ripped black and white uniform hanging off your shoulders, exposing your chest all to him. He relished in it all. Mostly, the feeling of being absolutely buried in your pussy, his nose poking the hood of your clit each ravenous grunt he makes to get closer to you.

Your eyes roll back as Karaku extends his tongue to fully show the kanji that says, ‘pleasure’ and presses it flat against your entrance, making a ‘slop’ sound before ravishing your wetness. Again and again, Karaku slurps at your cunt, using his huge, calloused hands to move your waist and body up and down on his mouth. One wrong move and he would surely scrape his teeth against your sensitive flesh. Unintentionally. Still, that didn't stop you from wiggling closer to him, pushing your wet pussy further into his mouth.

“Just relax,” Karaku giggles, “You like it, huh? Makes you feel good~” He slurs, ears perking up at all the soft whimpers flowing out of you, “Good girl, just like that, open wider for me.”

“H-Hngh! Karaku—NGH!” You groan breathlessly and press your legs together onto the sides of his face. His pointed ears poke into the insides of your thighs and you can’t help but want more of it. There was no way where you would have ever predicted that inhuman features like pointed ears, prodding canine teeth, and horns would ever make you feel anything other than hatred. But Karaku makes you forget it all.

You feel yourself getting hotter as Karaku doesn’t look away from you, the kanji in his eyes burning into yours, not moving an inch since when he started. There was no telling what he was thinking in his head, but the thought of all of it was making your mind go brainlessly numb.

With another bold lick, Karaku flutters his tongue in the pool of your juices, drawing a string of saliva and cum from your entrance and looking at you with a completely feral expression. “You don’t let up, do you?” He chuckles, “C’mere, puny hashira. Be a good human for me and let me taste you again, yeah? You’re so pretty...I can’t help myself, I’m getting so excited.” Karaku hums in amusement.

“Ah, hah, ah! Karaku-uh!” Your cunt continues to pulsate, growing wetter each time he suckles on your folds, wanting so desperately to please you and hear his name fall harder this time from your lips. A hashira, getting fucked out by a demon. Your mind runs rampant. All the sounds you make are practically drowned out by Karaku’s attention on your clit, gradually fucking you on his tongue and nudging his fangs against your velvet entrance, reminding him that you’re not like him and sooner or later you’re going to burst. He smiles at the thought.

A hand flies to his head and bumps into his horns, finally something to grab onto, and you suddenly get a rush of sanity back and cling onto the boney material with all your might. While it’s just to push him back for even just a second, Karaku takes the opportunity to gasp for air, now giving you a chance to look at him in all his clouded glory. His lips are red and shiny from your arousal, mouth slightly open and puffing out a mixture of his own breath and the scent of suffocating sex on his branded tongue. You can tell he’s not thinking of anything else but finding new ways to satisfy you by the hazy look in his eyes. The color almost matches the leaves above. Fitting.

“Karaku, j-just slow down before I—” The words die on your tongue as soon as Karaku pushes back your hold on his horns and dives in between your legs once more.

Like he’s getting high off the taste, his tongue laps again at your sex, squishing your sensitive flesh down with every messy lick he makes.

You begin to wail as Karaku pushes his tongue deeper inside of you, easily finding your sweet spot and abusing it with all his strength and stamina. The warm touch of his tongue along with his now rose-wet lips pressing against your entrance draws out more lewd sounds from you.

Trying to breathe, Karaku doesn’t let up and only continues to swirl his tongue on your soaked cunt, occasionally dipping into your pussy to taste you deeper. “Mm, more more more.” He chants into you. As soon as your knees start to buckle in pure ecstasy, Karaku holds them apart and opens more of your legs to suck more and more, driving you practically insane.

By now, you're too dazed to even realize how much Karaku had done, and how much of a mess you are now. So focused on the acute surges of pleasure running through your body with every little curl of his tongue or slurp of his wet lips on yours. What once was a soft, sheepish voice soon became a high-pitched cry in a matter of seconds. Pleasure rolls through your body with the overwhelming knowledge that you could sense your own high.

It almost doesn't feel real. At the hands, or rather, mouth of a demon, it just doesn't feel right. But it feels too fucking good to ignore. Karaku is completely engulfed in the taste of you, sucking on your clit harder now, with his claws biting into the plushness of your thighs to be closer to him, just to fill the insatiable hunger he possesses. “Karaku!” His name comes out as a warning, trying not to give in, “K-hh! Wait wait wait! Karaku I-N-NGH!” Just then, you jerk your head back, no longer wishing to hold back anymore, and allow his name to run freely, “Karaku! H-Hngh!” When his name leaves your lips, so does all the built up pleasure inside your body, and as if a bolt of lightning stroked inside of you, you feel the rush begin to surge. Keeping his eyes on you, you feel the demon smile widely as he quickens his pace, licking up all the wetness from leaking out of his reach.

“That’s good,” Karaku purrs and kisses your clit, not planning on stopping you from cumming all over his tongue, “Keep going...don’t stop, puny hashira.” When he pulls away, not going too far, you're met with the bitter cold of the night, hips instantly shivering from the loss of his touch.

Coating the inner walls of your thighs, and even trickling down to the fabric of your uniform placed under you, Karaku watches as arousal spills out from you, all from just his tongue. The sticky, almost briney, fluid pools on your pinkish, glistening folds, making your heart leap out of your chest as you gasp in short breaths of air. Karaku laughs at the warmth leaking onto his finger and taps the softness of your clit, amused by the tiny jerks and twitches of you and your hips, trying to ride out the aftermath of your climax. “Ah...ah...ah...” You groan and roll your hips back.

“You’re so pretty, Y/n. I wish you came here sooner. Instead of being a demon hunter, you could’ve came here to me and I’d eat this pussy out all the time.” He says, cupping the outside of your thigh. “Wouldn't that be nice...being here with me, right?” He flashes a curious look at you, to which you can’t help but look away in shame anymore. His nose, lips, and chin are all soaked in your juices, and even if he doesn’t seem to mind and even likes it, you can’t shake the feeling that he was able to do so much for you.

Your heavy lidded eyes look up at him, panting uncontrollably, “Karaku...I’m so tired...” your words make the demon freeze, but very quickly turn into a wide smile. He does his best to lick all the cum off his face, even using his fingers to suck off your arousal, laughing a bit at your blissed out expression. Instead of leaving you behind, Karaku sits up with you in his arms, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before leaving your clothes in the dirt.

“Come on, don’t fall asleep now. We still have much to do, puny hashira. I can’t wait to experience new things with you.”

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reine-uls · 1 year

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I just read an interesting isekai, harem uppermoons x reader (gender neutral) fanfic on ao3 called the awakening of the demon king by wholesome_sliced_bread and plot so far is amazing!

In a nutshell, reader found a dead Muzan and ate him and they became the Demon King. (I find this terribly disturbing and funny at the same time).

You were just a student but then you stumbled across Muzan’s corpse and nom nom nom. ✨ expensive mukbang ✨ You got isekaied to the Demon Slayer world. (I drew another version of reader for another fanfic— I’m not running out of ideas at this point. But I drew them female huhu I should’ve drawn them ambiguous.)

Since you became the Demon King, all of the demons under Muzan’s creation, especially the Twelve Kizuki are under your control.

The original story of Demon Slayer might change depending on Reader, who is a fan of Demon Slayer in the real world, meaning they know everything what will happen to the story, who dies and survives, and how the original story will end. The fate lies upon their hands.

I enjoyed the story so far. I recommend everyone to read it~

#archive of our own #ao3 fanfic #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kokushibo x reader #douma x reader #akaza x reader #hantengu x reader #gyokko x reader #gyutaro x reader #daki x reader #nakime x reader #drawing ✍️

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peachdues · 6 months

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IN THE NETHERWOOD

PART II

KINKTOBER 2023 ♤ WEREWOLF!SANEMI X RED RIDING HOOD!READER

PART I HERE

A/N: I would apologize for the utter lack of plot, but we all know why you're here. You can have plot later; for now, enjoy some 9.5k words of pure monster porn. 13.4k words total.

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • werewolf fucking x F!Reader • knotting/mating • breeding • tummy bulging • so many creampies • like a concerning amount of cum • Sanemi half-transforms and has fangs/claws • slight blood mention • spit kink • oral sex (F!receiving) • Reader gets fucked stupid tbh • mildly violent/potentially upsetting content at the end but I don’t want to give anything away

You awoke the next morning not upon a bed of pine needles or curled against an overlarge piece of driftwood but cushioned against warm skin and rocky muscle.

Your eyes fluttered open, squinting against the watery light of morning, having not seen the sun since you’d first entered the Netherwood more than a week earlier. But the clearing by the river Sanemi had led you to the previous night meant fewer trees, and so, the dull gray of morning was visible above your heads where you’d slept curled atop the Huntsman’s broad chest.

You rolled your head against his sternum, peering up at the soundly sleeping Woodsman, admiring the peaceful serenity of his slumbering face.

His chest rose and fell steadily as he dreamed, and you could not stop yourself from allowing your hands to wander, to explore this Wolf who was to be your mate.

Your fingers began at his forehead, brushing his silvery strands back and exposing the cross-crossed scars lanced across his forehead. You traced each one, marveling at the shiny, smooth texture beneath your fingertips.

You danced your fingers over and down the features of his face and to the hollow of this throat. You then ventured lower, grazing over the thick scars rippling across the exposed portion his chest.

With a hard swallow, you allowed your hand to drop lower, teasingly traipsing down the ridges of his abdomen until you came to the waistband of his breeches.

Your eyes lowered to the seam of his pants, breath lodging in your throat at the rigid bulge that had formed at his groin.

You held your breath as your hand graced lower, your curiosity a tug in your gut not capable of being ignored.

Before you could brush your hand against the bulge, a warm hand snagged around your wrist, halting it in mid-air.

“Lamb,” Sanemi’s voice was thick with sleep but full of warning. “May I ask what you’re doing?”

Feeling bold, you threw a leg over Sanemi’s hips, rolling yourself atop him and pressing your groin flush against his, breath hitching as the rigid formation in his pants brushed against the sensitive spot between your legs.

“Wolf,” You mocked his tone, though your breaths were jerky and short. “Touch me again.”

A low growl reverberated from Sanemi’s throat, his fingers digging into the plush of your thigh, though you could not tell whether it was out of his wavering restraint or mounting desire.

When he did not move his hands, you bucked your hips against his, pushing against his groin in impatient demand.

Your name fell from his lips, choked and guttural. “If you keep doing that,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “I will not be able to stop myself.”

You leaned forward, lips grazing the vein protruding in his neck, savoring the way it thrummed under your touch. The blunt tips of Sanemi’s nails bit into your skin as he snarled against your neck.

You only smirked at his fraying restraint. “Then don’t.”

Sanemi gently but reluctantly pushed you off him, though his hands lingered against your waist, his fingers tracing circles.

“Didn’t your grandmother warn you never to provoke a hungry beast?”

“She may have, once,” you conceded with a sly grin, your fingers slipping below the waist of Sanemi’s breeches to tug him forward so that his hips were pressed against yours once more. “But I was never particularly good at listening.”

“A bad habit you’ve carried with you into the Wood, it seems,” the Huntsman agreed. “And you’ve made me quite ravenous, little Lamb.”

You squeaked as Sanemi’s hands braced around your waist and he promptly lifted you off him and plopped you unceremoniously on the pebbled shore beside him.

“But I, unlike you, possess a morsel of self-control.” He shot you a sly grin. “I can wait until we get to my den.”

“You certainly had no compunctions when it came to tasting me last night.” You grumbled.

Sanemi lifted an eyebrow as his lips quirked up in a smirk of his own. “And taste you again I shall,” he purred, sitting up. “But I want you spread out across across the floor of my den — not here, in the open.”

Sanemi rose to his feet and swiftly began gathering your supplies, preparing for the trek ahead.

“How is your wound?” He called conversationally as he fastened his traveling cloak around his shoulders.

You’d not given much thought to the gash Kaigaku had inflicted upon you the day before, and your stomach dipped at the thought of your skin stretching around the tender flesh.

Only, to your slight confusion, you really felt no pain at all; none of that burning, sharp aching you’d felt all the previous night until Sanemi had distracted you with his wicked fingers and even more wicked tongue.

“My leg!” You gasped, your skirts bunched in your hands as you pulled them back, damning propriety as you exposed its bare length to the Huntsman.

To your shock, all that remained of the wound inflicted by Kaigaku’s knife was a thin, reddish scar, as though the injury was several weeks old as opposed to mere hours.

You pressed the tips of your fingers against the thin stripe of skin, testing it. “It does not hurt, either!”

You looked back to Sanemi though he seemed nonplussed in contrast to your wide-eyed bewilderment.

“At least I won’t have to carry you anymore,” the Huntsman’s tone was teasing as he fastened his worn traveling cloak around his shoulders. “You constantly grabbing fistfuls of my fur was starting to get annoying. I thought you were going to leave behind bald patches.”

You gaped at him. “Does it not concern you that my wound magically healed itself overnight without a drop of medicine?”

“Not particularly, no,” Sanemi held out a hand to help bring you to your feet. “Not when it’s my mark you bear upon your skin.” He said with a naughty wink.

You accepted his assistance with a huff, secretly marveling over the calloused, steady warmth of his touch as you righted yourself. “It’s humbling to know that, despite you spending the evening with your head between my legs, you continue to be as vague and elusive as you were when we first began this journey.”

Sanemi, who had turned away to adjust the various knives he kept strapped on his belt and in his pouch whipped back around to you. He frowned at the bemused yet vexed expression you wore.

“I don’t mean to be withholding,” he said after a moment. “I am just — unaccustomed to this,” the Huntsman motioned back and forth between you.

You returned his frown. “Talking?”

“Ye — no,” Sanemi ground his teeth for a moment, struggling for his words. “It is not the conversation part I find difficult. That part has been easy — with you, at least.”

Your cheeks warmed as the Huntsman continued. “It’s the…intimacy of it.” He scrunched his eyebrows in thought. “Sharing the details of what I am with someone who does not already know them.”

Your irritation melted into something lighter, as a slow grin spread across your face.

“What?” He snapped.

“How serendipitous,” you said coyly. “You once found yourself irritated by my questions and now it seems you’re in need of them.”

Sanemi shook his head, muttering softly to himself as he secured his satchel around his shoulders and turned back, waiting for you to follow him back into the Wood. “Trust you to find amusement when I try to be serious.”

You only smiled as the pair of you set off, shoulder to shoulder, to begin your trek not towards any human village resting on the other side of the Netherwood, but to Sanemi’s den.

“What is a den anyway?” You kicked a small pebble, sending it skittering off into the brush. “Is it a literal wolf’s den?”

“A cave,” Sanemi’s tone was relaxed even as his eyes remained sharp, his nostrils flaring every so often to scent out any potential threat hidden in the shadows. “I s’ppose it is pretty close to what you think of when you consider wolves’ dens. We use them for mating, or for our heats.”

“You can go into heat without mating?”

“Aye,” he answered. “Our heats don’t happen often — maybe once or twice a year.” Sanemi looked back to you in thought. “I do find it ironic that our paths crossed right before a Blood Moon.”

You frowned. “And what is a Blood Moon?”

“Simply put, it is an eclipse,” Sanemi’s fingers moved to brush your cheek. “One that makes the moon appear crimson. But for wolves — cursed like me and those born — it is a time when our strength is at its peak; but we are also more unstable. Wild.”

You felt an excited chill pass over your skin. “But what does that have to do with your heat?”

The Huntsman only shrugged. “Blood moons can trigger heats behind the usual cycle; they can be stronger. More intense.”

“Which is why,” Sanemi reached over where you walked beside him and flicked your nose. “Your cloak is important, Lamb.”

“Speaking of that, you once warned me about the color of my cloak,” you frowned, pinching the fabric between your fingers. “You said red can symbolize many different things.”

“Aye, it can,” Sanemi held out a hand to help you over a particularly rocky bit of terrain, not letting go until he’d ensured you reached even ground. “I am surprised your Grandmother did not warn you of that.”

You felt slightly defensive of the old woman. “She may not have known. It’s an old cloak. It was an heirloom.”

“I highly doubt she did not know its import,” Sanemi disagreed, casting a sidelong glance your direction. “I told you it was enchanted. It has been acting as a ward against those in the Wood that would do you harm.”

“Cloaks like that are not just made and sold to unsuspecting villagers. Those who desire them, do so for specific reasons.”

You frowned, thumbing the fabric. “And what of the color? You’ve yet to tell me what the red means.”

Sanemi’s cheeks pinkened. “Red is an important color to wolves like me. It is the only color we can see.”

Your head whipped towards him with a soft gasp. “You mean — you cannot see other colors?”

The Huntsman shook his head, his eyes roaming the path before you. “Only the red of your cloak.”

“And its meaning?” You pressed.

Sanemi hesitated. “Red has been understood to be a mating signal. A declaration that one is unmarked but willing.”

You gaped at him. “So that day — the day we met,” you managed, your cheeks warming. “You thought I was — that I was offering myself to you?”

Rather than flush further, Sanemi laughed — a rich, velvety sound that filled you with warmth.

“No Lamb,” he said affectionately. “I didn’t think a scared little thing like you even knew what that cloak meant. Especially when you looked half-ready to pass out when you saw me.”

You crossed your arms self-consciously in front of your chest. “I’d been running for over a day, and the Wood is terrifying.”

The Huntsman’s hand found yours and he laced your fingers with his. “And yet you found me all the same. Perhaps the cloak worked.”

He lifted a hand to your shoulder, where his mark sat below the heavy fabric of the crimson hood. “After all, I am no longer taking you to another human village; I’m taking you somewhere so I can utterly defile you.”

Your thighs clenched together, his words sending excitement, coarse and hot, cascading through your veins. “It is not defilement when I am begging for your touch, Wolf.”

Sanemi tugged on your hand, pulling you against his chest and surprising you with a soft kiss, his thumb stroking your chin.

“Beg you shall, my darling Lamb.” He murmured against your lips. “So let us speed up our step so I can hear those sweet pleas.”

You giggled as Sanemi led you deeper into the Wood by your hand, your cheeks flushed pink and your stomach tittering with excitement at the prospect of what the moonrise would bring.

—-

It was late afternoon when Sanemi slowed to a stop.

You slowed beside him and followed his line of sight, looking down a small valley to see a series of small, interconnected rocky formations peppered throughout the ravine.

You exhaled softly. “Is that—?”

Sanemi nodded. “My den is just over there,” he pointed to a mass of moss-covered rock about halfway down the valley. “Though you cannot tell from this distance, it’s fairly deep on the inside.” He glanced down at you, eyes softening at the exhilaration upon your face. “We will not be disturbed.”

You tore your eyes away from the peaceful spread of land, the soft slopes of the mountainous terrain appearing so out of place with the murky darkness of the Netherwood. “And this is where you go every time you go into heat?”

“Aye, when wolves are unmated, it’s best for us to be alone,” Sanemi blushed slightly, a hand jumping to rub at the back of his neck. “To weather it alone, that is.”

Your hand found his and squeezed gently. “You won’t have to any longer.”

The Huntsman’s answering smile was warm as he tucked you into his side, kissing your hair.

“Come,” he said. “Let us get set up for the night.”

———

Sanemi had spoken the truth; though the cave had appeared small and unassuming from the outside, once he parted the thick ivy curtain which obscured the entrance from the sight of any wandering passerbys, you could see the mouth of the stone gave way to a comfortably large, rocky alcove.

The wall was set back about twenty feet from the cave’s entry. On one side, you spied a series of unevenly spaced ledges that Sanemi appeared to use as shelves, a cluster of odd-shaped packages wrapped in cloths of various fabrics resting upon the sediment.

Across from the little storage area was a thick pile of animal furs, soft and in pristine condition. Each was piled atop the other, creating a pad several inches thick that would serve as a barrier against the dirt-rock floor of the den.

Your eyes lingered on the pelts before you turned to Sanemi, head cocked in question.

Sanemi’s gaze darkened as it flitted between you and the furs. “A nest,” he explained, his voice turning to gravel. “To make the heat more comfortable.”

He paused for a moment. “Had I known I’d be finding myself a mate, I would have brought more. I was expecting to endure my heat alone —“

“It’s perfect,” you cut him off, hand covering his in assurance. “It’s all perfect.”

Sanemi brushed your hair back, hand caressing your face. He nodded towards the makeshift shelves on the opposite side of the nest. “Provisions,” he said. “I came here just before you found me to stock up on dried meat and fruits — and water.”

He nudged your foot shyly with his own. “And trust when I say you will need your sustenance.”

The suggestion in his tone was enough to make you step into him, heat pooling sensually in the depths of your stomach.

“Sanemi,” you whispered, and the Huntsman’s breath quickened. “Kiss me.”

Soft lips moved softly against your own, but it was not enough. With an eager gasp, you pressed forward, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, your teeth tugging at his bottom lip in silent request.

Sanemi opened, and your tongues melded together, both of you sighing deeply into the other as you breathed him in.

You walked him back, Sanemi allowing himself to be led to the edge of his nest. You pushed lightly on his chest, and he lowered himself, the Huntsman’s hands sliding down your waist and to your hips, tugging you down with him to straddle his lap.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as you rest against him. As the two of you settled against the soft furs of the den nest, the Huntsman’s hardening length pushing against the sensitive spot between your legs, causing you both to gasp.

The Wolf’s chest rose hard and quick as you pushed your hips down against his once more.

Sanemi was panting against your mouth as you ground down once more against his crotch, mewling at the way his hardening bulge connected with that spot between your legs that made your toes curl.

“You must keep your cloak on,” he managed to whisper against your throat as he nuzzled against your skin.

At the first sound of the whimper building in your throat, Sanemi pushed your hips down against him, rolling his clothed groin up into yours. “I will still remove your dress, little lamb,” He huffed a quiet laugh skimming your jaw with his nose. “But the cloak is for your safety.”

“I do not wish for you to take me safely,” you whined, “I want you to take me as your mate.”

The declaration that you intended to accept the bond made the huntsman groan, his grip on your hips tightening as the fabric of your dress gathered beneath his palms.

“Be careful what you wish for, woman,” he warned, nipping at the tender spot beneath your ear.

“I will mate you, little lamb, but you are human.” Sanemi pulled back to face you, a warm hand coming to rest against your face as he gently, but firmly, forced you to meet his eyes. “And it is the full moon; it will be hard enough to restrain myself from transforming while I take you, even with your cloak on.”

Sanemi’s eyes shut tightly and for a moment, it looked as though he was in pain. “But were I to shift while claiming you right now, I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t harm you. It is a risk I will not take, lamb.”

A warmth spread through your chest at the consideration and care the roughened man continued to show you, even as his heat only continued to heighten, evidenced by the ever-growing swell beneath his trousers.

The flutter in your stomach was tempered as your mind processed his words. “But you will shift while taking me? One day?”

Sanemi hesitated for a moment before nodding, and it was a struggle for you to refrain from clenching your thighs together. The wolf’s eyes were concerned, if not timid, as they searched yours. “Does that frighten you?”

The only thing that frightened you was how excited you felt at the prospect of Sanemi fully transforming into his fearsome, powerful wolf form as he pressed you into the pelts of his bed, but you weren’t about to confess that to him right then.

So you only shook your head, your fingers rising to gently caress the scar jutting across his cheek. “No, my wolf; that does not scare me at all.”

A pale eyebrow quirked up as a small smirk pulled at Sanemi’s lips. “So I am your wolf now, little lamb?”

“If I am to be yours, then you are to be mine, no?” You kissed him again, moaning softly at the soft fullness of his lips as they moved easily against yours. “Doesn’t the mating bond go both ways?”

Sanemi’s eyes were full of wonder as they roamed your face. “It does,” he whispered. “What you feel, I shall also, and likewise.”

“Then that makes you, my wolf.” You answered simply, smiling slyly. You leaned down to kiss him once more, your arms winding around his neck. The Huntsman groaned, his hands roaming the curves of your body, until they came to rest against your chest.

“Allow me,” Sanemi said gently, fingers coming to unlace the stays on your outer corset. “I’d prefer for you to be undressed before the moon rises.”

You grinned. “You just want to see me bare.”

“Aye, that’s true,” the Wolf chuckled, the sound sending goosebumps over your skin as his fingers deftly unwinding the cords keeping the garment secured. “But I also don’t want you trying to skin me for having destroyed your only set of clothing in my haste to have you my way.”

You mocked a pout. “But the cloak must stay?”

“Yes, you seductive little thing; your cloak stays for your protection.”

You groaned, huffing in annoyance as Sanemi finally undid the last lace of your corset and cast it aside. He pushed you back to sit against the pelts, kneeling before you to unlace your boots.

Once he’d set aside the worn leather shoes, the Huntsman focused his attention on the pair of long wool socks that went just over your knees. You tried to keep from squirming as his warm hands brushed against the bare skin above the tops of your socks, but the Wolf seemed intent on teasing you as much as possible. As he worked each sock slowly down your leg, he allowed his fingers to teasingly drag along the sensitive skin of your upper thighs.

You fought the urge to clench them together, your teeth gnashing together as you willed yourself not to shiver beneath his tantalizing touch. But you could not control the rush of arousal which flooded you, and your cheeks turned scarlet at the way Sanemi’s nostrils flared slightly, scenting you, a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“So eager, little Lamb,” he simpered, allowing his fingers to drop to the space above one of your newly exposed ankle and massaging it. “So enticing.”

You glowered at him. “You know precisely what you’re doing, and I won’t fall for your little game.”

It was a lie, and you knew it as well as he, for all it took was a quick press of his lips against the crease between your shin and knee to have you whimpering, hips involuntarily bucking as you grew desperate for him to continue.

“It would not take much for me to have you begging, Lamb,” Sanemi warned, eliciting a gasp from you as he nipped the sensitive skin of your thigh. “Be grateful I will be in no mood to tease once the moon rises.”

You whined as Sanemi’s hands removed your skirts one at a time, and then your shift, slowly peeling back each of your layers until you were bare beneath him.

He pulled away once, to remove his cloak and the billowy linen shirt he wore, and then his boots. Left in nothing but his breeches, he knelt before you on the pelts, covering your trembling body with his warm solid form.

Your fingers jumped to the ties on his breeches, but Sanemi jerked his hips out of the way. At your small whine, he chuckled, his lips beginning a descent down your body from your neck.

“I first need to taste you,” he said simply between the soft nips he trailed down your torso, breaking up each prick of his teeth with alternating licks of his warm tongue.

Your small pout was quickly chased away by the electrifying sensation of Sanemi’s lips drifting closer and closer to where you wanted him most and you settled back against the furs, a tiny smile tugging at your mouth.

You spread your legs wider to accommodate his mass, so lean yet so solid, the muscles on his chest looking as though they’d been carved from the finest stone by only the most skilled of masons. Against the flickering light of the small fire he’d lit inside the cave, Sanemi’s hair was reminiscent of starlight, and his eyes, locked steadily with yours, glimmered like two, precious stones.

His mouth trailed lower, sweeping across your hipbones as he drew nearer to your core, Sanemi groaning softly as he scented your arousal where it pooled between your legs.

Your hands drifted to your naked breasts, your fingers pinching and tugging at your soft peaks as you nudged your hips forward, silently begging Sanemi to bestow upon you the same pleasure he’d given you the night before.

The Huntsman did not need a great deal of convincing. Hands wrapping around your thighs to hold you wide open, he surged forward and latched his mouth to your eager cunt.

Sanemi devoured you like a man starved.

He was sloppy; his face was pressed firmly against your center, jaw working furiously as his tongue lapped between your folds before dipping inside of your entrance, savoring the way your tight walls cinched around the wet appendage, before he pulled out and repeated the movement. The sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs could not rest, not between alternating brushes of the tip of his nose and the graze of his teeth as feasted.

Every so often, he would pull back, leaving only the tip of his tongue flicking against your bead, his face shiny with your slick, as he watched your face, the way your eyebrows knit and how your lips parted to let loose your breathy, desperate whimpers and pleas for more. But that brief moment of respite as he observed you rarely lasted more than a few thunderous beats of your heart before the Huntsman swooped down upon you once more, thrusting his tongue deep into your entrance and curling up, brushing against a spot within you that had you screaming his name.

One hand gripped your thigh harshly, his nails digging into the soft inner skin as he pulled you harder against his mouth, groaning between lewd slurps and smacks against your cunt. The other made its way towards your entrance, his fingers dragging lightly over the soft, fatty underside of your backside before settling at your opening, teasingly circling it.

“I can see you clenching,” he muttered between harsh sucks at your pearl. “Do you long to be filled, Lamb?”

Speech was difficult, but you managed to nod desperately your throat remembered how to make sound. “Y-yes!” You could hardly hear yourself over the roar in your ears as you chased that ascendant feeling building steadily in your gut. “P-please, Sanemi — I feel so…s-so empty —“

The Wolf seemed to be in a charitable mood, for he swiftly plunged two of his fingers into your core, burying them right down to the joint. Half a beat later, and Sanemi crooked those thick, calloused digits, fingertips massaging your inner walls until your thighs vibrated around his head, and his name left your mouth in a small shriek.

The Huntsman’s lips latched around your sensitive nub, alternating between sucking and licking, making you writhe against the furred pelts of the nest. The thumb of the hand working steadily at your entrance stretched up the length of your cunt, pressing firmly against your pearl and rotating in small circles, so he could continue to stimulate you even during those brief few seconds when his mouth would pull away from you so that he could swallow your juices like it was the finest nectar.

Your cries bounced off the walls of the cave den, the coil in your cut winding tight, your entire body shaking beneath the furious ministrations of Sanemi’s mouth against your cunt.

Sanemi’s head dipped down to plunge his tongue into your opening, right alongside his fingers and you came undone, the soft pelts beneath you disappearing as your body ascended high through the clouds of your pleasure.

Sanemi moaned as he drank from you, his free hand moving from your thigh to your hips to help you grind against his face, his eyes rolling back slightly as he savored your sweet taste.

Your dizzying high gradually guttered out, letting you drift softly back down against the pelts, your skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

The Huntsman imparted two, final licks against your hyper-sensitive folds before drawing back, his tongue running over his lips to collect the last traces of your juices that still lingered around his mouth.

“When we get home,” Sanemi’s voice was husky, as he brought the fingers he’d hand inside you to his mouth, his tongue carefully cleaning your essence from his digits. “You are to spend an entire day sitting upon my face while I feast. You will not move until I’ve had my fill.”

His vow made your stomach flutter and your mouth go dry. “You mean that was not enough?”

Sanemi’s answering grin was wolfish. “Not in the slightest, Lamb. You provoke a hunger in me that I fear cannot be sated.”

He leaned down over you, hand firmly cupping your jaw to part your lips as he slotted his mouth over you. His tongue slid into your mouth to caress yours, and you moaned at the musky, sweet taste of yourself still on his lips.

He broke the kiss with a wet smack. “So we shall start with a day and see how well you please me. If I am still unhappy, then you shall have to remain there until I am otherwise satisfied.”

“And what of my satisfaction, Wolf?” Sanemi’s grin only widened at your challenge. “So far, I’ve heard talk of only yours.”

The Huntsman’s fingers grazed your dampened slit, still so sensitive from what he’d done with his mouth that you hissed lightly, as he covered your body with his own.

“Have I not pleased you enough, sweetling? My sincerest apologies.” He mocked, rolling his clothed groin against your bare one. He dipped his head low, sucking one of your breasts into his mouth before kissing his way up your neck to your chin, stopping to let his lips just hover above yours. “We shall see if you’re still feeling so cheated once my cock is buried inside you, hm?”

The reminder of what was about to transpire in a matter of minutes as the sun dipped lower and lower below the horizon outside the cave stilled you, momentarily breaking through the lusty haze in your mind.

“Sanemi,” the seriousness in your tone drew the Huntsman to a halt, his eyes flicking to yours, his hands stilling.

You gulped. “It will hurt, will it not?”

Sanemi’s eyes softened, and his fingers began rubbing soothing circles into your skin, his touch gentle. “It will at first, yes.”

You nodded. “Do you think — can we start before moonrise?” Your hands found his and squeezed, pleadingly. “If it is going to hurt, I would prefer to do it before your heat sets in.”

Sanemi’s hand pulled away from your grasp to hold the side of your face, tilting your head until you had to meet his gaze.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sanemi’s fingers were delicate as they caressed the curve of your cheek. “You do not owe me anything; I would not dream of asking you to do anything you did not want.”

You parroted his touch by stroking a thumb softly over the scar that crossed his cheek. “I am certain that I want you, Wolf.” You leaned in and pressed your lips gently against his before pulling back. “I ask only because I want that moment to belong to you. Not as my mate, but as the man I’ve chosen to spend my days beside.”

“So please,” you entreated, pressing yourself closer against your Huntsman, your other hand toying with the faint trail of silver hair that spread across his bared pectorals. “Before you claim me as your mate, make me yours, Sanemi.”

The Huntsman’s breath was ragged. “All right, then,” one warm hand wrapped around your waist, its heat somehow burning through the layers of your skirts and shifts. “As you wish, Y/N.”

There was a beat as Sanemi nuzzled your nose with his. “But the cloak stays on.”

He chuckled at your small harrumph, quieting you with the sweetest of kisses, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Nice try,” he murmured against your lips, before rolling you beneath him.

Sanemi kissed his way down your body, a low growl vibrating in his chest as he neared your waiting core, but he held back, pulling off you to raise up on his feet, his hands coming to rest against the front laces of his breeches.

The Huntsman held your heated gaze as he slowly unlaced the leather cord securing his breeches. Without breaking the connection, Sanemi leisurely worked the soft deer hide down his hips and over his thighs, unveiling his toned lower abdominals and strong, muscular thighs.

Your eyes traced over every ridge and dip of the Huntsman’s nude body, cheeks growing hotter and hotter as your gaze dipped down lower.

There was that faint, silvery trail of hair that began just below his navel that had first made you view the Huntsman in a different light, all those days ago. That trail led down past his hips, right where the evidence of his desire stood proud, and waiting.

Sanemi’s manhood was thick and long, its tip level with his navel. It was a few shades darker than the rest of his skin, the head a pinkish color that seemed to grow deeper the longer you stared, as though sensing the events about to unfold and eager to move them along.

You’d seen him nude before, but this time was different. For now, Sanemi’s nakedness was about to belong to you as much as yours was to belong to him.

Sanemi turned slightly to the side to discard his breeches, placing them atop the many layers of your skirts and shift. From that angle, you spied a faint hump near the base of his length, almost imperceptible in the orange, flickering light of the cave, that you nearly mistook it for a trick of the shadows.

“Is that —?” Your voice faltered with your blush.

Sanemi’s answering smirk set off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. Though you’d seen him in a far more compromising position between your thighs, his beauty still had a habit of catching you off guard.

“Aye,” his voice was both silky and rough as he drew closer to you. “That will be my knot, once it fully forms.”

The Huntsman knelt down beside you on the soft pelts covering the den nest, lowering himself to graze his lips against yours. “But don’t worry about that right now, sweetling.” Sanemi then shifted so that he was hovering over you, a knee wedging between yours to help guide your legs open as he settled into the cradle of your thighs.

His lips ghosted against the side of your neck. “Just focus on me.”

You nodded, breath catching in your throat as his warm weight settled against you. You hissed at the feeling of the tip of his manhood brushing against your slick folds, a spark of pleasure jolting through you like a lightening bolt.

Above you, Sanemi ground his teeth, a tendon popping in his neck as he exhaled sharply. “Christ,” he ground out, repeating the sliding movement of his velvety head against your core. “I pray your cloak is enough, sweet girl. Because I don’t know how I’m going to hold back when you already feel this good.”

The mark on your neck pulsed with a simmering heat that only sent another gush of fluid between your legs. You mewled for him, fingers tugging lightly at his silver locks as you bucked your hips upwards, your body nearly thrumming with your need to be filled by the thick, searing length tracing up and down your folds.

Sanemi moaned. “Alright,” he said, exasperated but his voice shook. “Needy little thing.”

One hand skirted down the length of your thigh, gripping behind your knee to wrap your leg around his hips. The Huntsman’s other hand moved to grip the base of his manhood, lining it up with your entrance. Sanemi’s eyes lifted once to yours in silent question, and anticipation fluttered in your gut.

“Please,” was all you could say, breathy and desperate. “Please.”

As the head of his cock pushed into you, Sanemi rattled out a gasp, his eyes screwing tightly shut as he panted hard above you.

“L-lamb,” he stuttered even as he continued to breach your walls. “You’re so soft…so warm.”

You cried out at the way pleasure and a faint discomfort blended together into a pinching pressure as the Huntsman worked himself into you, his muscles trembling. The thick, blunt tip of his cock pushed against an inner barrier within you, and your belly clenched in anticipation as Sanemi paused the sinking of his hips into yours. His head dipped to the crook of your neck, right where he’d seared his claim into you, and he began to brush his lips against it, caressing the raised skin with his tongue.

The stimulation of your mark sent a flood of warmth trickling through you, relaxing your tensed limbs and allowing your body to open up to him — this Wolf, who was committed to making you his for good.

Your cry of discomfort melted into a deep moan of desire as your head tilted to the side, exposing more of your neck to the Wolf’s feverish mouth. With a growl of approval, Sanemi surged his hips forward and finally pushed past that thin, inner barrier, embedding himself to the hilt within your spasming walls. The flash of pain from his breach caused you to tense for a breath, your core pulsing at the intrusion. But then Sanemi’s fingers were there, working the nub between your legs to chase away any lingering discomfort as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against your neck, murmuring soft praises.

Pleasure bloomed beneath Sanemi’s skillful touch as the last of the burning subsided. Your breath eased as you relaxed in his embrace, shyly rolling your hips against his to signal you were ready for more.

He pulled back, eyes searching yours. “Are you alright, sweetling?”

Your hands clawed at his back, trying to press the Huntsman closer to you, despite the way your bodies were pressed flush together. “Y-yes,” you managed, your breath stuttering as Sanemi shifted above you, the movement stimulating a spark of heat between your legs.

“M-more, Sanemi,” you moaned, fingers digging into the grooves of the muscles of his shoulders. “Please, more.”

He nodded with a groan, an arm shifting to wrap around your waist to hold you up against him. With his face buried in the crook of your neck, Sanemi began to move, his hips rolling into yours and pushing his manhood deeper and deeper into you.

“Lie back, sweet Lamb,” he murmured in your ear as he rolled into you once more. “Let me make you feel good.”

You couldn’t imagine how much better the Wolf was capable of making you feel than he was at that moment, with every lurid push of his length into your tight heat, but you weren’t about to question his abilities. With a quiet moan, you fell back away from him and against the soft pelts of the den nest, your arms dropping from his shoulders and coming to rest above you, against the furs.

“Fuck, just like that,” Sanemi’s gaze darkened as he beheld the way your position arched your lower back slightly, raising your peaked breasts higher up, your nipples stiff and desperate for stimulation. “You’re so good, little Lamb. So good for me.”

The Huntsman’s gentle praises made your thighs clench and warmth pool in your lower belly. Sanemi leaned forward with a sigh, running a hand up the length of your arm to grip one of your wrists to press it down into the nest. The other returned to your hip, angling you slightly in a way that allowed him to sink even deeper into your syrupy heat.

He lowered his head to wrap his lips around one of the sensitive buds of your breast, tugging it lightly between his teeth. “Gods, Lamb, you’ve no idea what you do to me,” he groaned. “It’s taking — fuck — everything in me not to tear this cloak off you and rut into you like the beast I am.”

You nearly whined at that, drawing upon every ounce of self control within you to not admit that was exactly what you wanted — Sanemi, unrestrained and utterly wild. You locked your ankles against his backside and used all the strength in your legs to push him into you, bucking your hips in tandem with his. “Sanemi, please, I need more —“

He answered with a pointed thrust of his hips, choking you off with a gasp.

“Is that so?” Sanemi’s breath was hot against your ear, and a shiver jolted down your spine at the faint growl that tinged his words. He shifted your legs so that they were wrapped higher around his hips, the fat of your backside resting against his sturdy thighs. “Then you better hold on tight, little Lamb.”

The Huntsman locked a muscled arm around your waist and moved his hand to grip both your wrists, pinning them above your head.

His lips crashed down against yours as Sanemi began to thrust into you with a steady rhythm, each push of his length into your spasming core as precise and fluid as the Huntsman had proved himself to be in the Wood. Only now, he was not faced with an opponent, but with something far more tantalizing — something he desired far more to dominate.

You.

And you were only happy to give into him, what with the way his cock charted previously unexplored places deep inside you, repeatedly brushing against spots that had your mouth falling open and stars appearing in the corners of your eyes.

Sanemi’s tongue slid into your mouth as his hands moved to arch your back further, your legs rising higher on his waist until they were locked just under his ribcage, the Huntsman bearing more of his weight down upon you and pressing you harder into his nest.

You pulled away from his lips, your breath ragged. “I - I f-feel,” you tried to babble, though your mouth struggled to form coherent words against the symphony of moans and whimpers that each push of Sanemi’s length into you dragged out.

Sanemi’s lips moved down your neck and danced across your throat. “How do you feel, Lamb?” He cooed, the tip of his incisor brushing against the hollow of your throat, his pace only increasing with every deep plunge of his length into your silken cavern.

Your eyes fluttered shut even as your eyebrows knit together, the knowledge of how to properly speak nothing more than a distant memory.

“F-full,” you managed to pant after a moment. “So — ah — full, Sanemi.”

Amidst the sounds of your breathy moans and Sanemi’s rugged pants and snarls, a pointed, wet schlick began to echo off the walls of the cave den as Sanemi continued to build his rhythm, his cock nearly pulling all the way out of your honeyed heat before he plunged it right back in, hitting you so deep, you wondered whether he might be able to touch your very soul.

Your moans grew louder as that familiar coil began to tighten behind your navel, just above where you felt the tip of Sanemi’s length begin to twitch within you.

Sanemi stuttered out a broken groan of your name. “My sweet, sweet girl —“

“I love you!” you gasped, the thick, pleasured fog in your head unable to keep the words from tumbling out of your mouth. “Ngh — I love you — fuck, Sanemi!”

The Huntsman only growled in response, his hands digging into your hips to pull you to meet his thrusts, his hips snapping faster against you.

Just outside the mouth of the den, the clouds parted and the moon’s silvery rays filtered through the small cracks in the earthen wall of the cave.

Sanemi’s thrusts stuttered as his body suddenly seized. His head was thrown back, the tendons and muscles in his neck rigid with strain, while his chest heaved, struggling to take a breath.

The fingers digging into your hips tightened and you cried out at the sharp prick of nails sinking into your soft flesh. At the sound of your voice, Sanemi’s hands pulled away to reveal fingers now with long, curved nails.

His claws.

A choked, strangled noise that was somewhere between a groan and a howl ripped from Sanemi’s throat as he shuddered violently above you. The tremors sent faint vibrations right to where the two of you were connected, sparking new yet short-lived waves of pleasure rippling through your core. you mewled at the loss of stimulation as the huntsman stilled once more, desperately wanting him to start moving again to ease the burgeoning friction between your legs.

Your hips involuntarily twitched up against his and Sanemi’s head snapped down, his attention now wholly focused on you, writhing below him.

The first thing you noticed were his eyes.

No longer did they reflect the soft lilac that you’d come to find comfort in; that regarded you with a curious gentleness that often contrasted with Sanemi’s gruff and scarred countenance.

Now, the eyes that watched you from above had faded to a startling silver that glowed nearly as bright as the fat moon which hung just outside the mouth of the den.

But his eyes were nothing compared to the fangs that had formed on both his upper and bottom rows of teeth.

Sanemi’s incisors had lengthened, the upper pair extending nearly to his lower lip. The teeth tapered out to sharp points, glistening in the moonlight with a promise of violence to anyone who might find themselves at their mercy.

He had warned you that it would be difficult to keep himself from shifting while he mated you, but you’d assumed that the presence of your cloak would keep him in his human form. It seemed, however, that the magical protection afforded by the Ruby red wool draped around your shoulders, still could not fully temper the beast within.

Especially when that beast was in the thick of his heat and claiming you as his mate.

Still embedded deep within your heat, apparently oblivious to the growing friction that caused you to squirm, Sanemi’s nostrils flared and his eyes dropped to the sides of your hips. His pupils contracted, a deadly glint igniting within his silver pools, as he beheld the thin rivulets of blood which had gathered and crested beneath the marks left behind by his claws.

A growl, low and dangerous built in his throat at the sight of the crimson, but the arm wrapped around your waist tightened in silent apology.

His free hand rose to cup your jaw and he squeezed, forcing your mouth to fall open. Sanemi leaned over you, his tongue falling out of his mouth where you could see he’d gathered some of his saliva, and he let it drip past your parted lips. You accepted the fluid, warm and slightly sweet, as it pooled in your mouth until all that connected his lips with yours was a single, clear string of saliva that broke as Sanemi spoke once more.

“Swallow,” his voice was gruff and tinged with an animalistic snarl.

You obeyed, and Sanemi huffed in approval, his eyes lowering once more to your sides, waiting.

The skin around the marks left behind by Sanemi’s claws grew warm and then tingled before the sensation quickly faded away. Curious, your hand fluttered to the outer curve of your right hip, fingers seeking out the tender, bleeding skin. With a soft gasp, you realized all that remained on your flesh were drying flakes of your blood.

Your eyes flew to Sanemi’s in surprise, and the wolf nodded.

His half-shifted form was apparently only able to speak a single word at a time. “Healed,” he confirmed, tongue darting out from between his lips to lick alongside your neck. “Healed.”

The huntsman’s nose moved to press flush against the soft spot beneath your ear, inhaling deeply. Your breath hitched at the sudden, light graze of his fangs against the curve of your collar bone, accompanied by a distinct wetness that pooled just beneath it.

Sanemi breathed into you again, his corresponding groan deep and possessive, and it occurred to you that in this half-shifted form, he was scenting you, needing to confirm that you were the one he’d marked; the one who was accepting his mating bond.

And your scent was making him drool.

“Mate,” he growled, dragging his nose down your neck to the hollow of your throat where your pulse thrummed. Your breath caught in your throat as the tip of one of his fangs grazed the delicate skin, and you realized it would take no effort for the wolf above you to pierce your neck and claim your life.

It would’ve frightened you, had you not realized that Sanemi was continuing to hold still above you. He remained that way, even though it was likely every instinct he had was screaming at him to move, to mark to, to claim you, especially when he was already sheathed deep within the sanctity of your walls. His restraint was palpable, given how he trembled, even as you felt his cock twitch within you, desperately seeking to fill and breed.

“Mate?” Came his snarl once more tinged by the faintest uncertainty as he awaited your response.

If you wanted him to stop, you had no doubt his will would overcome his base instincts, and he would pull away.

But you didn’t, and so you merely breathed, “Yes, wolf. I am your mate.”

A dark hum of approval rippled from Sanemi’s chest and he answered with a deep push of his hips. You gasped, hitching your legs higher on his waist and you swore it felt as though his cock had somehow grown hotter, thicker, as he began his rut.

But Sanemi in heat did not want your legs wrapped around him; he wanted you submissive, utterly at his mercy as he claimed you as his mate, and so, he flipped you to your hands and knees with a supernatural dexterity that left you breathless.

Clawed hands came to rest on your hips and dragged you back to him, carefully folding the hem of your cloak up and back to expose your rear end to the Wolf’s hungry gaze. One hand left to push against your upper back, pressing you into the soft pelts of the mating nest, while the other tilted your hips until your backside was in the air.

Your stomach clenched at the hot exhale of air that blew against your cunt, thighs squeezing together at the sound of Sanemi scenting you with a deep intake of breath.

“Pretty,” Sanemi marveled, the calloused pad of his index finger swiping along the slick folds of your core, causing your muscles to clench, desperate to be filled once more.

His voice took on a darker edge. “Mine.” He growled, and your head fell forward with a throaty moan as Sanemi’s tongue flattened against your folds for a strong lick.

His mouth only caused your essence to gush once more, and this pleased him, given the contented humming that sent vibrations rocking through you, loosening a desperate cry from your throat.

The sound of your desperation seemed to spark something in the wolf at your back, for Sanemi suddenly tore his mouth away from you and rose to his knees. You were about to turn to beg him to touch you again, when you felt the hot, leaking tip of his cock press into your entrance, slipping past that first ring of muscle before stilling.

Sanemi left his clawed hands on your hips and shifted his weight to let his knees knock your thighs together. Tilting your hips even more, Sanemi then rose up, the head of his cock still tucked safely inside you, and planted one foot on either side of your knees, coming to a squat.

And then, Sanemi began to fuck you once more.

Your thighs trembled beneath you as Sanemi’s cock stretched and filled you, reducing you to no more than a quivering puddle of your own arousal and desperate need to be claimed.

With every relentless push of his cock, with every pointed slap of his groin against your backside, you were reminded that at the end of this, there would be no part of you that remained wholly yours. Sanemi fucked himself into every crevice, every nerve that made up you, his cock chasing away anything that could not be marked by him.

You did not exist for yourself; you existed only for his pleasure and to take his knot.

“Mine,” Sanemi growled, over and over, with every bruising thrust into you, as the swelling base of his cock pressed closer and closer to your entrance.

He was too fast; Sanemi fucked into you at a pace so brutal, it was all you could do to continue holding your hips up, fingers desperately digging into the soft pelted blankets for purchase as every drive of the wolf’s hips made you bounce.

“Mine, mine, mine,” Sanemi chanted, each reminder punctuated by the possessive thrust of his cock into your drooling cunt, so forceful that you struggled to take a breath.

It felt like heaven.

“Yes,” you half-groaned, half-screamed into the fur below you. “Y-yours! Your mate!”

Your words only seemed to make him grow more feral and desperate, his hips snapping even harder against you as his engorged cock threatened to tear you apart from the inside, out.

One of his hands left your hip and you nearly whined, needing to feel him everywhere you couldn’t touch. You chanced a glance over your shoulder, just in time to see Sanemi raise his thumb to his mouth to bite the long, thick curved tip of his claw clean off. His thumb now resembling that of an ordinary man’s, Sanemi brought it right between your legs, pressing down against the series of nerves at the apex of your thighs that made you howl.

Even in the thick of his heat, your pleasure was his priority.

“Oh gods, oh gods,” your voice trembled in time with your body as the pressure in your navel built, much faster than it had before, the walls of your cunt fluttering harder around the thick, bulbous length of the wolf bent over your back. “Sanemi!”

The wolf’s thumb swirled around your bud more insistently, his cock throbbing as he shoved it deeper and deeper into you. From your position on your knees, chest firmly smushed against the pelts of the den nest, you began to feel the soft furs lightly graze against the skin of your stomach, though the lower half of your body was largely still suspended above the ground.

Not even your mind-numbing pleasure could stymie your curiosity as your hand drifted down your abdomen until it met a hard, bulging lump that throbbed just below your navel.

A lump that pulsed in time with every vicious thrust of the wolf’s hips against your backside. With a strangled gasp you pressed down, palm cupping around the thick, protruding head of Sanemi’s cock from the outside as it battered you from within.

The pressure made Sanemi tip his head back, a pleasured snarl rumbling from deep within his chest. His hips stuttered once, causing his heavy, full balls to slap right against your swollen bead and you came undone.

The walls of your core seized around the Wolf’s cock with a dizzying force, your limbs locking up as a euphoric scream tore your throat raw, and tears sprang into your eyes. Your cunt pulsed around his length, a gush of your sticky pleasure surging forth to cost him and his groin, the scent mixing with the heady, thick musk that permeated the air of the den.

Your eyes strained as they rolled deeply back into your head, your brain only vaguely registering the way Sanemi inhaled deeply behind you, a cross between a whine and a groan falling from his lips.

Sanemi’s hips gave one final, mighty push of his cock deep into your womb before you felt a sudden explosion of hot, sticky warmth flood you as Sanemi’s own climax ruptured.

You felt his seed fill you, a stray bead just managing to eke out from where the two of you were joined to trickle teasingly down your inner thigh. You wouldn’t have paid it any mind, but Sanemi growled lowly at it, as though the single drop of his milky pleasure managing to evade capture within your tight warmth was something to mourn.

Several moments passed, and yet Sanemi’s length remained rigid and spurting inside you, only prolonging your own release. As he spilled, Sanemi’s hips lurched forward once more, somehow pushing his cock deeper into your core as it spasmed around him with the last fading waves of your pleasure. But that pleasure was quickly replaced by a burning stretch as something hot and hard and thick bumped up against your entrance.

With a grunt, Sanemi nudged it forward and the hardened gland slipped into your hole, eliciting a mix between a scream and a moan from you that was only muffled by the fur against which you’d buried your face.

His knot, you realized, as your walls tried to rebel against the intrusion and push it out. Your swollen, aching cunt, however, was no match against the heavy, bulbous weight of the plug determined to keep every bit of the hot seed still spurting from Sanemi’s cock locked deep within you.

Several more moments passed as you remained pinned beneath the Wolf, his knot locked snugly within your cunt as he sighed and mewled above you, his lips grazing the back of your neck and shoulders. As your womb began to feel slightly bloated from the volume of hot, viscous seed with which Sanemi filled you, you began to finally feel his cock soften, and the burning stretch of your walls around his knot started to lessen as it slowly shrunk.

As his knot finally ebbed, Sanemi’s cock slipped out, only a small trail of his seed behind it, trickling lightly down your thigh.

His chest pressed harder into your back and you both fell forward, collapsing against the soft pelts cushioning the floor of his den, panting.

Your cheeks were flushed a bright red and your eyes were glassy, every inch of you trembling from the intensity of your joining. To quiet the thunderous beat of your heart against your sternum, you concentrated on on the feeling of his seed, thick and heavy, as it sloshed within your womb.

Soft lips grazed your still-burning mating mark before they moved softly down your spine as Sanemi’s weight lifted from your back. Warm, gentle hands gripped your hips and eased you flat against the nest before turning you over, your body boneless beneath his touch.

Sanemi’s fingers brushed your hair from your face, his eyes full of concern as his hand caressed your cheek. “Are you okay, my lamb?”

It took a surprising amount of effort to remember how to nod your head, and enough time passed that Sanemi lurched over you, his eyes wide as a worried call of your name echoed over the roar in your ears.

“I’m fine,” you managed after a moment, your voice a faint warble as your hands searched for him, needing the warmth of his skin to bring you back down to earth. “I promise I’m okay.”

You took a deep breath and allowed your eyes to slide shut, your face turning to nuzzle deeper into his palm as it rest against your temple. Sanemi’s fingers continued to brush your hairline, over and over, in an effort to soothe you.

When you opened your eyes again, you felt steadier; more grounded. You finally met his worried gaze, his irises having faded back to that delicate lilac hue you loved rather than the glowing silver they’d been during your rut.

But as you shifted beneath him, you felt another gush of his seed leak out of you, and the way it trickled down the curve of your ass before pooling on the fur beneath you made your core pulse once more.

Sanemi’s eyes flickered silver as the embers of your arousal caught once more, and your thighs clenched in anticipation.

Your hand found the back of his neck and gripped it firm, tugging his head back down towards you until your lips nearly touched. Sanemi’s breath was warm and sweet as it fanned over your face. Slowly, your other hand trailed down his chest, savoring the way his muscles rippled and tensed beneath your soft caress.

Your fingers found his still-stiffened member and they closed around it, giving him one, strong pump.

“Again.” You ordered, and your thighs fell open, the full scent of your arousal mixed with the muskiness of his seed making Sanemi’s nostrils flare, his pupils narrowing to slits as he growled in reply.

—————

Hours passed, and the sun had long since risen and begun its descent in the west, but Sanemi’s heat had still not subsided.

The periods of Sanemi’s lucidity gradually grew in length with every small break between his knot finally subsiding and his heat reigniting. The last break had lasted long enough for Sanemi to bring you several strips of dried meat and a handful of dried fruit, along with a skien of water that he had to help hold to your lips as you slurped greedy mouthfuls of the cool, spring water. You hadn’t had much of an appetite, given the way your stomach seemed to bulge slightly from the amount of seed he’d already given you, but the Hunstman insisted, lecturing you briefly about the need to keep your energy — and stamina — at a consistent level.

You’d begrudgingly accepted his offerings, less so out of hunger and more so because of the way he’d pulled you against the sweat-slicked skin of his chest while you ate, his fingers tracing delicately up and down your spine as his lips peppered your forehead in gentle, reverent kisses.

But that had been at least two hours prior, and you were right back where you started: head thrown back and nonsensical babbling lilting from your mouth as Sanemi impaled you on his monstrous length, over and over, until you could not remember where you ended and he began.

To his credit, even Sanemi in heat tried to feed you his knot in new positions, still committed to ensuring that you got as much pleasure from the experience as he. The current position was the most toe-curling one yet, one that had Sanemi resting on his haunches, his back straight as he kept you perched atop his cock like a throne.

One clawed hand was splayed across your lower back, keeping you upright as the other stretched across your lower abdomen, hand pressing down against your navel so you could feel the bulbous head of his engorged cock rub against that spot at the front of your wall that made you forget your own name, even if you could not seem to forget his.

This position also allowed him to guide you up and down his length in time with his lurid, frenzied thrusts, which you supposed was a good thing, considering your legs had long since been reduced to jelly and were utterly useless.

You felt yourself growing more and more lightheaded the harder Sanemi continued to fuck himself into you, the pleasure wrought by each frantic, deep stroke of the Wolf’s thick length in and out threatening to overtake you entirely.

His seed was steadily squelching out of you with each impassioned thrust, running down your thighs and dampening the furs below you. you’d lost count of how many times he’d already given you his knot. Truthfully, you’d stopped counting around the third or fourth time, your body too concentrated on trying to simply keep up with the Huntsman’s insatiable stamina. Still, despite the exhaustion, your mouth managed to form only a single, coherent plea for more, a command the Wolf was only too happy to oblige

You were getting closer to that pinnacle again, a slew of whimpers falling from your mouth in time with each harsh drive of the wolf’s cock into your cunt. But despite the number of times Sanemi had brought you over the edge since this dance had begun, you felt as though this time, it would be different; more extreme. How could you not, given the way your own juices slid down your thighs, mixing with his essence as he fucked it both into and out of you?

Sanemi’s length was hardly pulling out of your sopping heat, so you felt the swelling at his base steadily growing larger and larger, and you knew his release was imminent. You tried to tighten your arms around his neck, a high-pitched whine keening from your throat as your head fell back.

The Wolf bent low and sucked one of your aching breasts into his mouth, his teeth adding new reddish-purple marks to the fatty flesh that his tongue worked to quickly soothe. A graze of his fangs against your nipple sent another gush of fluid rushing from your core, followed by a wanton moan as you arced your back, pressing your breasts harder into his face.

You felt your walls begin to tighten around his rocky length once more, and your pearl brushed against the swollen hub of the enlarged gland at the base of his cock.

With a final jolt of his hips upwards, Sanemi’s knot pressed flush against the apex of your thighs and sent you catapulting into the burning fire of your climax once more, your body seizing as your vision faded white. There was only a faint ringing in your ears as you felt yourself floating along clouds that matched the precise hue of your Huntsman’s hair, and you let yourself be utterly lost among the pleasure that was Sanemi.

You were content to remain amidst that departed bliss, your body weightless and your mind empty, but the Wolf still embedded deep within your cunt was not.

Your rapture was disrupted by a faint pressure between your thighs, just against that nub Sanemi had shown you was sacred to him. That pressure grew, your limbs no longer floating but stiffening, tensing as something warm and calloused pinched more insistently at your pearl.

With a keening cry, you plummeted out of the clouds of mindless bliss you’d ascended to and right back down to earth, to that cave den where Sanemi had you draped over his thighs, one clawed hand supporting the middle of your back to keep you upright as the other furiously worked between your legs.

Tears of pleasure so intense leaked from the corners of your eyes as you deduced that the Wolf rutting into you had forced you back to consciousness with yet another climax, this one just as powerful as the previous. Though, now, instead of your vision fading to white, a rush of your own fluids surged forth and coated the Huntsman’s groin, wetting down the coarse, silvery hairs that surrounded his cock.

Sanemi’s nostrils flared at the scent of your pleasure as it soaked him. With something more akin to a roar than a groan or a shout, Sanemi’s cock erupted within you, his hot seed shooting so deep, you swore you could taste it — him — at the back of your throat.

Had you been capable of speech, you would have tried to tell him you could not possibly be expected to hold anymore of his pleasure — not when you’d already taken more loads of it than you could count, not when it felt as though his seed had replaced every trace of blood within your body, so coating everything inside that made you you to instead make his. But you weren’t; not when your tongue was half-lolled out of your mouth, not when your eyes had rolled so far back into your skull, you’d wondered whether they might become stuck there.

And even if you could have spoken, it wouldn’t have mattered. For the moment Sanemi’s cock ceased twitching inside you once more, you felt felt his hips surge up and in, felt that hard, bulbous knot slip right into your core with far more ease than it had earlier in the night, ensuring that not a single drop of Sanemi’s pleasure could leak out of where he’d just unloaded it within you once more.

Not that you would want it to be anywhere else, anyways; not when it was so warm, so comforting as it sloshed around inside your womb, making you feel a fullness not even the most decadent of meals could impart.

Somehow, still, you wanted more; needed it. Needed him.

You continued to float as you took the Wolf’s knot twice more, your brain little more than liquid and your senses too dull to perceive anything that wasn’t him. Distantly, you felt him tense and heard his soft groan, quieter than any noise he’d made since first claiming you all those hours ago, and his dwindling knot lodged into your entrance one final time.

The two of you breathed heavily for a moment, you folded half against the cave wall, sandwiched between cool rock and Sanemi’s solid warmth. Dazedly, you realized Sanemi had called your name, his voice barely a hoarse whisper.

Blinking, your eyes blearily opened to meet a pair of lilac — not silver — irises hovering above your own.

Sanemi’s face was flushed, but his human features had returned, with not a trace of those elongated fangs or pointed ears left.

A sheen of sweat coated his skin, dampening the ends of his snowy hair to a dark silver. Sanemi kept himself braced above you, his muscles rippling in the dim, fading light of the small fire feebly flickering within the cave. From your spot below him on the pelts, your eyes traced a bead of sweat that rolled down his neck and over one of his scarred pectorals.

“You cannot possibly take anything more from me.” He panted, and to your amusement, he almost looked alarmed as his eyes roamed your equally flushed and sweaty form spread out below him.

You smiled serenely up at the Huntsman — your mate.

“I can take whatever it is you want to give me, Wolf.”

Sanemi groaned loudly as he pulled out of you, both of you wincing at the loss of warmth.

“I have nothing left to give you, woman. My heat has ended,” his eyebrows raised. “Even if yours, apparently, hasn’t.”

Between your legs felt sticky and gooey with the remnants of Sanemi’s heat slowly leaking forth and mixing with the fluid drying on your thighs. But despite the slightly uncomfortable sensation of the Huntsman’s copious seed beginning to dry where it crusted on your skin, you smirked at him nonetheless as he laid out beside you with a heavy sigh.

“So I am a Wolf, then? If you think I am in heat, that is.”

“I think you are the most insatiable devil ever to grace the Wood,” Sanemi countered exasperatedly. “And I think you may be the death of me.”

You giggled as the Huntsman helped ease you down from where he’d pinned you against the wall, his hands gently guiding you to your side against him as the two of you laid down upon the furs.

Your head nestled into the crevice in the middle of his chest, your cheek pressed flush against his sternum, the steady beat of his heart a lullaby that threatened to bring sleep fast and soon.

“You said something earlier,” Sanemi said gently. “Just before I —“

Your eyes flew open, a faint blush of embarrassment staining your cheeks as you recalled your words, cried out just before the moon had triggered Sanemi’s partial transformation.

I love you!

“Where are you going?” Warm fingers caught you beneath your chin, preventing you from burying your face against his chest in your effort to hide away.

Your head was turned up, and your eyes met that warm, lilac gaze. “Don’t hide from me, my Lamb.”

“Pretend I said nothing,” you squeaked, eyes dropping. “It does not have to mean anything.”

Sanemi’s other hand dropped to the mark branded into the juncture of your neck. At the first brush of his gentle yet strong fingers against the mark’s curvature, a warmth flooded through you, your teeth sinking into your lip to prevent you from purring at the contact.

“I did mark you, you know,” he smiled softly. “Bound myself to you for life, even if you decided to reject me.”

His smile faded slightly, his eyes earnest. “I would not have done that if I didn’t care for you — deeply.”

Sanemi’s lips pursed in thought. “If I did not love you, too.”

And though you had just spent the last day and a half allowing him to bend and twist you into positions that had you sobbing for him, the Huntsman’s words made your heart flutter like a bird.

“From this day forward,” you whispered, taking Sanemi’s hand in yours and pressing the tips of his fingers against your lips. “Wherever you go, I wish to follow.”

“You say that as though there was a chance you wouldn’t; as though you’d ever willingly leave me in peace.” He brushed a kiss against the top of your nose and his voice quieted. “As though I’d have it any other way.”

You answered his soft smile with one of your own, leaning up to slant your mouth over his. Sanemi’s lips parted easily for yours, your tongue sliding into his mouth to languidly dance with his, your hand snaking up his chest to hold the side of his neck.

The Huntsman growled softly into your kiss, an arm tightening around your waist as he pressed your nude body flush against his own.

“My heat may be over,” he said huskily against your mouth as he broke away to catch his breath. “But the fire you’ve lit within me still rages hot, little Lamb.”

You mewled as you traced your lips down, gliding over a scarred pectoral to take his pert little nipple into your mouth, your tongue swirling softly around it as Sanemi moaned.

“You’ve taken me as a wolf, Hunstman,” you purred, your hand sliding down his chiseled torso to where his cock had begun to stir once more. “Now I want you to take me as a man.”

With a low growl, Sanemi’s hands seized around your waist and flipped you over, laying you out on your back atop him, body pressed flush against his.

“Who am I to deny my mate?” His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, and one hand snaked around to your front to gently squeeze the sides of your throat.

“But since I’m taking you as a man, then I suppose you are no longer a Lamb, which means you no longer need this.” Sanemi’s fingers dropped to the collar of your cloak where it was still draped around your shoulders.

“And as fond as I am of your little red riding hood, I’m no longer concerned with being held back, sweetling.”

He flung the ruby cloak into a far corner of the cave before sliding his hand under you to position his cock between your legs, his tip already leaking as it pressed against your entrance.

His other arm looped through yours, pulling them back and pinning them against his chest, before he gave a great thrust up, sheathing himself to the hilt within your ready and eager walls.

You moaned, loud and unrestrained as Sanemi nipped at the side of your neck, your thighs spreading wider to accommodate his thrusts up from below.

“Let’s see how much more of me you can take now, little Red.”

—

SOMEWHERE IN THE NETHERWOOD

The silent, still trees of the Netherwood were helpless against the icy mist that rolled in from the foothills of the tiny, isolated village at its borders.

Though the forest had always been a void where sound and sunlight went to die, the mist heralded forth an unnerving stillness, so that not even a brave little songbird risked fluttering its wings. Even the shadows seemed to recoil as the source of the mist slunk through the ancient Wood, the most fearsome of its residents cowering away from the sinister intruder.

A figure emerged from the icy fog. Though the sun had long since set, the traveler needed no lantern or torch; his eyes, an unsettling kaleidoscope of colors, saw easily through the dark, the Wood unable to keep its secrets hidden from his hungry gaze.

It was quite a lovely night, the figure mused. A cool, late autumn evening with air so crisp it could only mean snow was imminent.

And snow made it much easier to track his prey.

Not that he was having much difficulty to begin with; after all, the girl’s noble attempt to muddy her own scent only made the chase that much more fun for the creature prowling through the Netherwood. Especially since the girl’s actions would lead him to a far bigger — far tastier, prize.

He smiled fondly to himself. He hadn’t imagined that the scrappy village girl would have ever made this game of his so interesting, and he certainly hadn’t expected her to be capable of serving him the feast he now tracked through the Wood.

He would still dispose of her the same way as the others, just as he planned. It did not matter to him that she’d already tainted herself by allowing a Wolf to mate her. In fact, the figure mused as he licked the remaining blood from his last his meal from his fingers, he hoped that the Wolf’s attempt to breed the succulent little human had been successful.

Mortal women and girls were far more satisfying than any other prey, with the way their bodies stored fat and held onto nutrients in preparation for child bearing. But a human woman carrying a Wolf’s pups? His mouth watered at the thought as he shuddered with delight.

But even if she was not carrying the fruits of the Wolf’s seed, it wouldn’t matter; she would still sate both his appetites.

And then there was the Wolf himself.

For the Wolf was the creature’s true target; the fat goose he hadn’t expected to find when he broke into the hen’s house in search for a new bride to claim.

The creature suppressed the primal, longing growl that bubbled up in his chest as he imagined how it would feel to sink his teeth into the furred flesh of the cursed Wolf, and how it would feel to swallow his mouthfuls of power and boundless strength.

His stomach growled at the thought, though he’d just feasted on a little girl he’d snatched from her parents’ bed as he’d waded into the Netherwood. She’d been bony and small, likely barely pubescent, but he’d been in need of nourishment before embarking on the long journey ahead. And, she’d been unbroken, and while he was not someone to care as much about such trivial matters, he couldn’t deny that it did feel so much better when they were untouched and untainted.

But she would do for now, as she rested in his belly. She could hold him over until he decided it was time to set his plan in motion, and his daring, rebellious little Y/N led him straight to the wolves’ den.

And Lord Douma knew how to be patient. And so, he would wait.

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