astrox

[astrox]

real

No lube, no protection, all day, all night, till his scars disappear, doggy style, would do a backflip on it.

[astrox]

I foam at the mouth everytime I see him

[astrox]

SCREAMING WITHOUT THE S

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 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).

[astrox]

That night, you and Toji were celebrating your birthday. It was your request to go out on a date like an average married couple. However, you wanted more from him than the affection he'd typically give. You've decided to tease him. To the skimpy dress revealing a lot of skin to the place you've booked for dinner. In a restaurant, you were lucky to reserve a booth with a white sheet covering the table.

Teasing your husband is an easy task. You flirted with the waiter, serving you drinks and taking your orders. You wanted to show off what belonged to Toji to the waiter as your foot slowly crept up his leg. Toji twitched, feeling your foot rub up against his leg, yet he couldn't help but glare at the waiter getting drawn in. You were entertaining yourself.

"Hey...come here," Toji called the waiter over. You didn't stop your foot, moving between his thighs. Grazing that one spot had your husband hissing, he asked the waiter. "That woman over there is my curse-"

Pushing your foot into his crotch caused his eyes to meet your glossy lips, stretching into a devilish smirk. You took a swig of the champagne, sending Toji a wink. Toji clicked his tongue and you down the rest of the liquid effortlessly.

"-So do me a favour and stop looking at what's mine and get me another waiter or I'll kill you," Toji threatened in the man's ear. The waiter's face went pale, and his body trembled by Toji's menacing scowl. The waiter scampers off where Toji couldn't see, not wasting a second. Meanwhile, you rest your foot on his crotch. It was then he realised your intentions.

Another waiter serves your table, a woman. The waitress became another thorn in Toji's side. You tortured him slowly as you complimented the woman, calling her beautiful and dragged your foot up between your husband's thigh at a slow pace.

"Has anyone told you that you should be a supermodel?" You asked, taking the woman by her hand. She blushed, using her notepad to hide her face. You let out a dramatic gasp, pushing the foot in.

You could feel a tent growing in his pants, and his hand grabbed hold of your ankle. He forced your ministration to stop. Moving your foot, you slipped it back in your heel and placed it down on the floor. Once the waitress disappeared to retrieve your food, you grinned. "You're no fun, Toji,"

"We're here to celebrate your birthday like you wanted, not watch you flirt with every person five fucking feet away from you," He reminded you, earning a sly smile.

"But you tease me every time we go out together, Toji. Can't I have a little fun on my birthday?" You requested of him, catching Toji off guard. "If I'm yours...you gotta prove it to everyone else because you're a terrible husband,"

Leaning back in your seat, you picked up a fork and twirled it between your fingers. Your lips stretched, forming a naughty grin, then bit on the handle of your fork.

"Fine y/n. I'll play your little game-" Slapping a few bills on the table, he forcefully takes you by the wrist and drags you out of the restaurant without any food in your stomach.

That's where the fun begins.

"What was that now you dirty little slut-" Toji gathered your hair into his hand as he rammed into you. He had you on your stomach, ass up and your hands tied behind your back with his belt. Your cries echoed throughout your hotel room while Toji rearranged your guts. He sought revenge after all the teasing he endured. Now he intends on making you regret your words and actions.

The sweat covering you both made a squishy wet sound as his hips met your ass. Your juices ran down your thighs. All you could do was moan and whimper into the silk sheets beneath. Toji pulled you back by your hair, teeth latching onto the junction between your neck and shoulder, leaving a mark.

"F-fuck-" You cried out. Toji sits you on his lap and leans back on his hands, then he stops moving. You whine, looking at him from over your shoulder, seeing a devious grin on his face. His hands released your restraints, letting your hands roam.

"Come on, birthday girl! Show me how desperate you are for me," His voice came out as a growl. Pulling yourself off his cock, you turned yourself around, so you were facing him. Hands resting on his shoulders, you impaled yourself on his cock once you've angled your hips just right. His length stretched you out again, leaving you both in bliss and pure ecstasy.

"That's it, princess," Toji spoke, his palm slapped your ass, and you began bouncing yourself on his shaft. He slaps your ass again, releasing an erotic moan from your quivering lips that had him twitching. You looked pretty riding him. "Look at you-"

Squeezing him, Toji's hands rested on your hips when he snapped his hips into you. He helped you and thrusts into your sloppy cunt. Your hands raked his chest, leaving light red lines, but when his hand wrapped itself around your throat, you only mewled in response. "Ohh, I'm gonna fill up this tight little pussy-"

"You wanted me to prove to everyone that your mine, right?" He asked, yet you couldn't produce a single word. "I'll show how I claim what's mine."

Feeling lightheaded, intense pressure in your lower abdomen meant your climax was approaching. Your voice cracked, and your moans came out as sobs. Toji laid you down your back, thrusting in and out of you. He picks up speed, penetrating and stroking you deeply.

"Toji-"

"Come on, baby, cum on Daddy's cock," Toji ordered.

Gripping the sheet, you finally reached the climax. Your orgasm had your legs shaking, cum spilling on the sheets and eyes brimming with tears. Your walls tightened around Toji while he continued fucking you hard. His erratic thrusts didn't stop until he chased his own orgasm. He came inside you, pumping hot strings into your heat till you milked him of every drop. He filled you with his seed as promised, so much that a lot poured out of your cunt once he removed himself.

Sighing in relief, Toji laid you down beside him. An arm pulled you in closer, letting you rest on his chest and catch your breath.

"Looks like I win," You hear above you, followed by a chuckle. You rolled your eyes, turning on your side.

"Whatever," You said, tugging on the covers and hiding your breast. Suddenly, you fell the bed shift, and the weight had been lifted off one side. Toji leaned over his side, grabbing his paints piled on the floor. He returns, looming over your body and holds out a tiny black box.

"Happy birthday, beautiful," He says, kissing your shoulder.

Accepting the gift, you opened the box finding a beautiful pair of earrings. You gasped, muttering out. "They're so beautiful,"

Looking over your shoulder, your lips meet for a tender kiss. Toji deepens it, hand tilting your chin to his liking. "Thank you, Toji,"

Support an author (ko-fi) ❘ word count: 1183

© 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎 — all works belong to astrox! do not plagiarize, recommend, or translate my work without my permission! reblogs are appreciated!

[astrox]

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 / 𝟎𝟑

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

sorry for the late updates <3

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀

⇾ nothing

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒

@sanemisfav

( previous chapter )

"Nemi!"

Awoken by the waft entering through the gap in his window, Sanemi felt an ache in his chest upon the revelation of past events and what lead him here. He had someone to protect. His brother, Genya. When their den had been discovered, Sanemi chose to run, leading the hunters away and saving Genya from death. Never in his life has Sanemi imagined himself abandoning his brother, but it's for his protection. Sanemi regrets his decision and how it almost cost him his life. Every night, it seems that Genya is haunting his dreams, reminding Sanemi that no matter what, he can't stay with his brother.

"Nemi, why did you leave me—" Genya's cries echo in Sanemi's head. For months on the run, he underestimated the hunters. They won't give up until he's dead and his head hanging on their wall like a trophy. His nose caught a whiff of magic, guiding him to your cottage and you, dressed in that awful bright red hood. He thought he was dreaming, thinking the blood loss made his head loopy. He thought wrong once he finally regained consciousness. 

Dried eyes struggled to open at first. He unhurriedly blinked, the feeling of sleep and the ache of his muscles causing him to groan out of discomfort whilst his hands gripped the covers. Suddenly, a wave of relief washes over him once he stayed perfectly still and his eye stayed glued to the ceiling. Mental images of Genya flashed in his mind, specifically their last moments together.

"Genya," He spoke softly, a shaky hand rubbing his face. Slowly but carefully, he leans ups on his elbows and then his palms. However, he would regret moving an inch, causing his wound to flare, and painful sensations felt like needles piercing the same spot. 

Sanemi moves the covers and lifts the shirt you put on him. He eyes his torso covered in clean bandages and pats the edge, where he wouldn't carelessly tear his stitches. Whoever tended to my injuries did a good job, he thought to himself. 

Suddenly, Sanemi's wolf ears perked upon hearing footsteps entering the cottage. He hears a voice speaking childishly, calling out a name. His nose picked up a sweet scent of wildflowers and a wet dog. He assumed that's why the person was babbling gibberish. 

"Who's a good girl, huh?" He heard a sweet voice.

"Does Winter want a treat? Good girl!"

After what felt like moments, the footsteps draw near and what Sanemi does was lie back down right as the bedroom door swings open. He pretends he had just opened his eyes and looks over the door. The sudden movement took aback you, eyes meeting momentarily, and you sighed in relief. Like in his visions, standing there is you, dressed in your hood. Struck by your curvaceous figure, Sanemi swallowed the hitch in his throat.

"Oh, you're awake," you mumbled, unsure of what to do next. Hesitantly, you took a step until the man before you rose, resting against the headboard. You held a hand in defence of yourself. "Don't worry, no harm will to you. You're safe her-"

The wolf ears on his head fluttering cut you off. You finish your sentence. "Here,"

Sanemi wrapped an arm around his side cautiously, his nose twitched and his eyes spots your ring. He senses no danger, nothing that could risk his life, yet he hides his wound. You know you don't pose a threat and you know he's ready to protect himself whenever he feels threatened. Luckily, you left your knife in the kitchen. To save yourself, you quickly come up with a solution.

"My name is Y/n, and this is my home. You sort of pounced on me when you were chased by some hunters and were hurt pretty bad." You explained calmly but slowly so that he was following along. "I let you inside before the hunters could track your scent and kill you. You've been in and out of consciousness a few times....but you probably can't remember that so-"

"Why-"

Your lips snap shut up tight, humming. "Huh?"

"Why are you helping me?" He asks, his voice dry.

"That's a brilliant question...I don't have a specific reason." You cleared your throat, thinking over your answer, and take a deep breath. "I guess my reason is that I care too much. I can't stand seeing others in pain, no matter who or what you are. It didn't feel right to let you run off when I could've done something to help."

"Huh?" The man cranes a brow, unsure of what to say. However, before he spoke up and questioned you about your intentions, your dog runs in and jumps up on the edge of his bed. Sanemi froze upon seeing the dog eye to eye, Winter had stepped on his leg and licked the tip of his nose. You piped up, stepping in closer to stop Winter from moving up any further and pounce the poor man. 

"Ah, Winter, no!" You picked Winter and carried her out of the room. After you closed the door behind you quickly apologized. "Sorry about that,"

Silence is all you got right when an empty stomach growls. You looked down at Sanemi holding his stomach, embarrassed. You huffed out a laugh, opening the door with one hand. "I'll make you something to eat," 

With that, you leave Sanemi to his lonesome and prepare to make him stew with slices of bread on the side. Made of mostly meat and vegetables, you cooked enough for two people in the biggest pot you own. You quickly peeled potatoes with a knife, cutting carrots into little bite sizes. It takes you no more than an hour to finish cooking the food and as for the bread, you offered the slices you save for yourself instead of baking another loaf. 

Plating the stew in a bowl, you set it on a tray and place the bread slices on a little saucer plate. You also gave him a cup of fresh water, you'd bring a jug later on in case he needed a little more to drink. Taking care to not trip over Winter as you tread down the hallway and open Sanemi's door with your foot. Still leaning against the headboard, you walked around his bed. 

Sanemi kept an eye on the food, mouth watering at the meat swimming in the broth. You set the tray on the clear nightstand, smiling. "I hope you like beef stew, it was quick to make," 

Surprisingly, you watch sanemi reach out for the water and indulge in its contents. A few gulps later his cup is empty, and he gasped a breath. Covering your mouth to hold in a laugh, Sanemi slams the cup on the nightstand. That was your cue to leave and let him eat on his own. 

Alone, Sanemi took the bowl into his hands, stirring the stew with the spoon sitting inside. He brings it close, inspecting and sniffing the stew in case it had been tampered with. He found nothing but meat and vegetables. At first, Sanemi mistook it as a trick—that your kindness was meant to throw him off, make him vulnerable.

He cautioned himself, taking a blistering swig of the broth. Eyes widening, he pulled his lips from the edge, his tongue licking a drop spilling over his bottom lip. Sanemi tried the meat next, then the vegetables. Everything is stuffed into his mouth despite the heat of the soup burning his mouth. He repeats the process with the bread, scoffing it down as if it were his last meal. Still alive by the time he devours the entire tray, Sanemi sits there bewildered and his belly full. 

Huh?

© 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎 — all works belong to astrox! do not plagiarize, recommend, or translate my work without my permission

[astrox]

Sanemi Shinazugawa (wearing Miguel O'hara's suit) x fem! reader

tw//: short and quick smutshot, rough angry sex(kind of), no preparation, spanking, biting, blood, creampie, cussing & degrading, the suit is holographic

authors note: I drew sanemi in miguel o’hara’s suit and it has inspired me to write something erotic

Being bent over a metal table by a raging maniac was not how you wanted your day to go. All you wanted to do was explore the spider society and get used to your surroundings when you stumbled on a fuming Sanemi. The man standing before you had just endured a mockery so foul that it sent him over the edge. He needed to take his anger out on something and you just happened to walk in.

Before you knew it, you were knocked down by Sanemi who held you against a table. Your face is pressed against the metal surface and your arms are held behind your back.

“Sane-”

“Shut it-” He snarls, binding your arms together with his webs. You’ve always told yourself to prepare for the worst when it came to 'Funtime' with Sanemi, no matter what 'worse' meant for him. Today is that day.

Bent over, the man behind you lifts your hips after tearing the bottom half of your suit from your body, revealing what will forever belong to him and him alone. The cold air pricks your skin, leaving goosebumps along your legs. He runs a thumb along your slit, hearing you squirm from his touch and his mouth waters. Wriggling, your face contorts out of discomfort and you struggled in your restraints.

This man wastes no time as his cock reveals itself from his holographic suit, standing up with no curve. Using his own saliva to lubricate himself, he pushes his wet tip in and out of you just to tease you. He snickers, hearing you whine and you shake your hips.

You gasp when he feeds you the inches, slowly and the stretch made your insides scream. Little by little, the more your toes curled and your heart quickened with anticipation. Instead of standing there and let you adjust to his he pulls out before Sanemi thrusts into you hard, ushering a yelp. He gives you another and another, setting a pace, drilling his cock in and out.

“Fuck,” you heard above you.

You couldn’t do anything but take his girth length. The sound of skin slapping and your erotic moans were music to Sanemi’s ears. Squeezing your ass, Sanemi angles your hips to the perfect angle so his tip brushed your cervix.

“Ah-” You squeaked, mouth agape.

“Well well, looks like my little slut enjoyed that, huh?” The name has you clenching around him and Sanemi smirks. He gives you another taste, this time he pokes your cervix, forcing out a scream. “There we go-”

Your lower half hanging over the edge meets the table and Sanemi’s grip on ass would definitely leave some bruises behind.

“Sanemi-sir!” You called out, mouth pooling with drool. Turning your face to the side, you attempt to raise a hand against your restraints. “Pleas-”

“I can’t hear you, slut,” Sanemi swats your ass. “Speak up,”

“Please-I don’t,” you whimpered earning another spank on your ass. The slap stings as tears prick at your eyes.

“You have to be louder than that,” Sanemi tells you, one hand reach the back of your neck pulling your to lean against his chest. “Come on you useless slut. I can’t hear you when your making those sweet noises for me,”

You garbled out a sob, blinking away your tears you spoke, “I-I don’t like it from behind-”

From that little confession, you find yourself on your back. Laid out on the table, you’re still tied up but at least you can see Sanemi’s face. In seconds, he’s all over you, shoving himself inside you once more. Your louder in the position, legs wrapping around Sanemi’s waist, head leaning back in pleasure.

It feels like it’s been going on forever, gushing on his cock and waiting for to be over. All over, your body feels sore, aching muscles ready to rest.

“More-I need a little more,” Sanemi mutters, leaning down and teeth bear for him to sink into your shoulder. You choke out a sob, feeling his lips suck a mark on your skin.

“Hurts-Sanemi it hurts!” You wailed over the table creaking, whilst the slap of his hips pick up speed. The faster he is, the harder he fucked you. Is then you realised that he’s close.

Just a little more y/n! You can take it! You told yourself, closing your eyes and allowing the torture to go. Gripping your hips, Sanemi’s groans grow in volume as his dick twitches inside your cunt. He can feel you squeezing him, pleading for him to fill you to the brim.

Moving a leg over his shoulder, Sanemi uses the angle to fuck deeper into and kiss your cervix. You grit your teeth, tears running down your face. With a couple of sloppy thrusts and loud grunt, Sanemi spills himself inside you. As promised, he filled you up with a few drops spilling onto the floor.

Panting, you feel Sanemi slip out and plug his fingers in to keep his load inside. Too exhausted to move, you didn’t expect Sanemi to pick you off the table after he frees you from your restraints and carry you away bridal style.

Resting your head against his chest, your eyelids become heavy. The sight of lower side had you shocked, caked skin, bite marks, and the mess between your thighs. You’d definitely be stuck to your bed for a few days. Falling into a deep sleep, you leave Sanemi to his thoughts.

THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS!!

[astrox]

— PERFECT MATCH

pairing: college prof!sanemi shinazugawa × reader ︴wc: 4.6k

synopsis: a quick fuck was all you were looking for. being as desperate as ever, you agreed to try out a dating app, because not everyone was looking for a relationship right? surely, they’d be horny people like yourself… you didn’t think it would be your hot professor from your college days.

genre/warnings: modern!au, smut, unprotected sex, degradation, dacryphilia, hairpulling, spitting, choking, biting, face-slapping, fingering, oral (m. receiving), profanities, alcohol, usage of the terms stupid bitch & whore, creampie, sanemi is in his mid-thirties and reader in her mid-twenties

✉️: my participation of @fuwushiguro’s CYBER SEX COLLAB :) this is pure filth

“i’ll pass. this app looks corny as hell.”

hollering laughter sounded from the booth you and your friends sat in, table filled with empty shot glasses and a variety of cocktails. it was the booth where you always got together at the regular bar downtown with your college friends every friday evening. it was a tradition you had picked up from your junior year of university, having all been architecture majors a couple of years back.

“oh come on, (f/n). you think people are dying to be on those apps?”, your college friend who even ended up being your coworker at the architectural firm you got into. she shoved her phone further towards you on the table as she pointed at the application shown there, “perfect match is trending everywhere right now. you can literally choose what exactly you’re looking for. just choose the fuckbuddy option!”

she was really trying hard to coerce you into doing this. either because she wanted you to get laid again, or she just wanted you guys to have something to laugh about.

“there’s seriously a fuckbuddy option?”, one of your friends who had dropped out laughed as she stared ar the bright phone screen, grin widening as she checked, “there really is… oh my god. is there finally a cure for you, (f/n)?”

you downed the rest of your vodka lemon as you placed the glass down, rolling your eyes. “stop talkin’ like i’m terminally ill, christ”, you drawled, shrugging as your drunken eyes were still glued on the registration page of the app, “i just didn’t have sex in like two months.”

the lively booth was quiet, and the four women leaned back with sharp inhales and wide eyes. “what’s the female equivalent of blue balls?”, your friend said as she took her phone again to google what you were suffering from, “blue vulva syndrome.” you snorted at the term, flipping them off as you stood up to order another round of drinks, phone in your hands while you waited, downloading perfect match.

maybe you should give it a go. who knew, maybe there really was a cure for blue… whatever.

the next day, you were laying in bed hungover like you did every saturday. this time, you might have had a little too much to drink. you were on your phone, finishing your registration on perfect match.

all they basically asked for were your basic information, your preferences, what you were looking for - you chose the casual hookup option - before you were asked to upload a few pictures of yourself. you were smart enough not to use your real name incase it would come back and bite you in the ass someday, but there had to be some way past posting pictures of yourself, right? you weren’t too keen on publishing your face on an app where everyone knew you were looking for dick.

would it be appropriate to post your tits on there? probably not. but didn’t all guys post their abs or whatever everywhere all the time? come to think of it, you had a couple of good bikini pictures from your last getaway in the summer. and a hot picture in a tiny towel after a shower. “okay, post-shower pic”, you counted, “one pool picture, and one from behind. should be good enough.” you made sure to crop out your faces on all of them before hitting send.

and you waited. by the time you took a cold, sobering shower, and ate a little something, you actually did get a notification. over-excited to see who had added you, your face fell in disappointment when you received a suggestion. and well, what could you say, the app sure got a very good idea of what you liked.

bulky. veined. thick. massive.

you weren’t talking about dicks. well, that was a lie, you liked them thick and big. but you were gaping at the chest, thighs arms of the fine man that was suggested to you in a fucking diashow. he went by the name nemi, and you just knew that wasn’t a catfish. you were experienced enough to tell real people apart from catfish, and he had cropped out his face too, all you saw was his taut neck and flexed jaw.

it seemed like he loved posing in front of his mirror, sitting with legs spread wide in three out of four, wearing dress pants and a button shirt in two with the first two buttons undone. one of his strong hands held his phone as his other settled on his crotch, and you could tell he was hung like a fucking horse. one of his pictures was taken in the gym, shirtless and dressed in shorts as he boxed against a punching bag with bandaged hands.

you didn’t even notice you were slobbering all over the phone when the app literally asked if you liked what you saw. it almost made you laugh if you weren’t so horny.

❥ SMASH OR PASS NEMI?

you didn’t think for a second before clicking on the first option. wasn’t smash or pass a term that teens used…? it didn’t matter. he was hot.

having stayed inside the entire saturday to work on some papers for work, you tried to focus on what was in front of you, but you couldn’t help yourself from checking your phone twice every minute. it was past two in the morning when you received a notification from something other than your curious friends asking if you found something yet to take care of your problem.

❥ NEMI CHOSE TO SMASH TOO!

❥ NEMI SENT YOU A MESSAGE!

oh my god. ignoring the internal cringe of the choice of words, you went on the chat faster than the speed of light.

NEMI: thought this app fuckin sucked

NEMI: only installed because of my fucking colleagues

you laughed out loud. another victim of peer pressure, so it seemed.

(N/N): that makes two of us

(N/N): probably the only two to crop their pics and not show our faces

he replied almost instantly, and your work was long forgotten as you laid down on the couch. the app had videochat, audio call, and audio message options. you weren’t opposed to sexting and getting off to seeing a man jack off, especially a hot man like that, but the real deal was by far much better.

NEMI: didn’t want to discover my face on sketchy ass websites or somethin

NEMI: how old are you?

you considered lying about your age too at first, but decided not to in the end. when nemi revealed that he was 36, your jaw dropped. the oldest man you had in your bed was 29, back then five years older than you. honestly, knowing that he was a tad older than you did something to you. he also seemed a little more interested after learning you were 27.

the conversation went smoothly for a while, until he stopped responding. your face fell, was he actually ghosting you? you had asked him what he was doing at the moment. damn. were you that bad of a texter that he had to go and ignore you? you were about to set your phone aside and tend back to your work in disappointment, but your phone buzzed.

❥ NEMI SENT YOU A PICTURE!

when you opened it, your eyes went as wide as saucers. he was seated at a table, dressed in sweatpants, shirtless, and sent you a picture of himself abs-down. his dick was fully hard. your pussy throbbed at the sight.

NEMI: just thinkin about how your ass would feel against my dick

NEMI: can’t stop looking at your pics

(N/N): want to find out? i’m free tmrw

that’s how you found yourself waiting for a total stranger to knock on your door and fuck you senseless how he promised to. you were very much aware of how dangerous it was, if your parents knew you were doing this they would be ashamed, but you always thought meeting up at hotels was kinda awkward. why not just feel at home while getting your holes drilled…?

you were wearing a tank top and spandex, no bra, and a white thong. when your phone chimed with a notification, you were awfully nervous. you had no idea why, after all, it wouldn’t be your first time hooking up with a stranger.

NEMI: open the door

sweat ran down your forehead by the time you arrived at the door. should you just not open the door? holy fuck, what were you even doing? carefully, you uncovered the peephole at your door and went on your tip-toes to take a tiny peek at who was actually standing in front of your door.

if he looked friendly, you’d open and risk getting murdered. if he looked unapproachable, you would just not open it. sounded like a plan, right?

“what the f-”, you blurted out, heart stopping in your chest as those lavender eyes wandered to the hole in the door. no, oh hell no. was that… with your soul having left your body, you opened the door to reveal the man. “-professor shinazugawa?”

he had sported a somewhat neutral expression on his face - his usual annoyed stare - but when he sighted you, his former student, his face fell. this was the best and worst thing to happen to you. you weren’t going to get rid of your blue vulva anytime soon, were you?

“what do we have here?”, he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, “if that ain’t (f/n) from fuckin’ math and statistics.” you just stood there, feeling out of place like a pope in a strip club, although it was your apartment you were standing in. come to think of it, you couldn’t be any more glad to offer your place instead of a hotel. you didn’t want to imagine how odd it would have been. if he turned around and left now, it wouldn’t be as humiliating as if he did that in a hotel.

but, holy hell… he looked just as hot as you remembered. mr. shinazugawa was always buff as fuck because he worked out regularly, and he looked like he hadn’t aged a least bit in the past five years you didn't see him. he just looked even leaner and muscular now, if possible.

he was the professor you were having the wildest imaginations about, whose lectures you wore your tightest clothes and shortest skirts and dresses for, whose exams you had deliberately failed a few times just to have him call you after lectures to talk to you, reprimand you that you needed to bust your ass for the next one. you never missed how his eyes would trail down to your chest or your bare thighs that you would rub together as you told him, “i’m trying very hard, professor. i’ll do my best and make you proud.”

“uh, this is weird”, you chuckled, offering him inside, “i guess our plans are busted? do you… want to come in for coffee or something, prof-” a gasp left your lips when he stepped inside, trapping you against the wall as he slammed the door shut, towering over you as his hands settled on either side of your head while he glared at you.

mr. shinazugawa always had his ways of intimidating his students. no one ever dared to ask questions or even make a sound, because he never gave a shit if he yelled at them to the extent of making them cry and run outside the lecture hall. it always made you want him even more, though. watching him being angry and dominant was the hottest thing in the world. which was why you sometimes dared to ask stupid questions or be loud on purpose just so he’d shoot you a glare or warn you. he’d never yell at you, though, unfortunately.

“come in for fucking coffee?”, he taunted you, hot breath fanning your cheeks as he spoke into your ear, “after you left me high and dry yesterday, and are wearing this?” he stared down at the low-cut top that revealed your cleavage and showed your nipples that were stiff after the sudden contact, and the tight shorts clinging to your plush thighs, “seems like you grew a pair of fuckin’ balls. showin’ your ass and tits on display on a damn app, trying to get some stranger’s dick.”

when you didn’t respond, couldn’t, because his husky voice alone made you moan and writhe in his grasp, he slammed your back against the wall again, eyes meeting yours as he pulled away from your ear, showing himself in all his glory. you wanted him to fuck you so, so badly. you never expected to ever see your professor again, but you’d be damned if you missed this chance of feeling him balls-deep inside you once.

“such a dumb bitch, can’t even speak”, the white-haired man spat as he grabbed your cheeks, squishing them hard as you whimpered, trying to pull him closer, but his wall of a frame wouldn’t budge, not even by a millimeter. he could ruin you if he wanted. and honestly, it was exactly what you wanted. “so desperate for cock, she invited a random man home. what if i wasn’t your fucking professor but some fucking creep wanting to kill you instead? ever thought of that?”

he watched as your eyes turned glossy, and he let go of your face to deliver a harsh smack against your reddened cheek, which you whined at. “p-please”, you tried to grab his arms, those thick, strong arms of his, but he wouldn’t let you, “please… professor… need your-” he laughed when him merely touching your face made you squirm. you were such a needy, little thing, he loved it. it made him harder than ever.

“call me sanemi”, he said as he pressed against you, letting you feel all of him, from the way his muscles rippled under his t-shirt to how his cock strained against his dress pants, and it finally clicked where the name nemi came from, “been wanting you to say my name since forever. i hated you for giving me blue balls whenever i saw you in those fucking lectures. annoyed the shit out of me.”

your doe-eyed lowered to his clothed cock, and your shaky hands wandered lower until you touched him. he was huge. you couldn’t wait for him to be inside of you. “i… i didnt know”, you mumbled, eyes still on his dick, and his long, thick finger hooked itself under your chin to make you look up, meeting his narrowed eyes, “didn’t know what? speak up.”

it was funny how you always used to be so bold and loud during lectures, just to piss him off. but on campus, you weren’t reserved by any means. he always saw you around lots and lots students, always joining new crowds and talking to everyone. he felt himself boil with anger whenever he saw you switching from one college jock to another, getting sick of all of those teen cocks. he knew then that you needed one like his to feel satisfied.

he was going to prove it to you.

“didn’t know you wanted to fuck me”, you whispered, wrapping your nimble fingers around the fabric of his slacks as you started pumping him, and he grunted at how your hand couldn’t even close around his shaft, he was going to split you in half, “really didn’t know… sanemi.”

he clenched his jaw at his name falling from your pretty, plump lips. you really knew how to do this, didn’t you? to make someone obsessed with you, wrap everyone around your tiny fingers. he used to hate you, so much for teasing him for years and just graduated, just fucked off. he always looked for your slutty silhouette in the lecture halls, always disappointed because none of the girls looked like you.

sanemi hummed as he breathed into your neck, every pump of your hand against his clothed cock making him exhale, and when you squeezed him hard, he opened his mouth to sink his teeth into the spot under your ear, biting down hard as you screamed. he almost tasted blood, and when he pulled away to see and feel you have retracted your hand from him and were shaking, he lowered himself back onto your neck to suck, kiss, and bite even more.

when your neck was littered with bruises, you were mumbling his name over and over. “yeah?”, he asked as he wiped the spit from his mouth and chin with the back of his head, “what do you need? talk. or are you really the dumb whore you pretended to be in my lectures? can’t even tell me what you need?”

your eyes were filled with tears, and he nearly felt disgusted with himself how much it turned him on to see tears leaking your face. “need your cock, nemi”, you begged, “please… wanna see it. can i get on my knees?” you looked and sounded pathetic, if biting and sucking your neck for a few minutes turned you into this pliant little puppy, how would you end up after you took his cock?

sanemi pushed you down by your shoulders and you immediately dropped on your knees, hands eagerly working on his belt buckle. when you pulled down his slacks and boxers in one, his cock sprang free, slapping against his abdomen. you couldn’t help but admire, you had never seen a cock as big and thick as his. everything about this man looked like a piece of art.

“open your pretty lil’ mouth, dumb bitch”, he demanded harshly, towering over you, and you did, eyes meeting his after he pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing his godlike upper body while you felt yourself soaking through your panties and bottoms like you never had before. “close your eyes. stay still.”

you thought he’d shove himself inside your welcoming mouth, so you shut your eyes, but you didn’t expect a glob of warm liquid to land right inside your mouth, flowing down your throat as you moaned and swallowed. fuck. “even willing to swallow my fucking spit? what a nasty fucking bitch you are”, he cackled as you opened your eyes, and he guided himself to your glossy lips, tapping his cock against them twice before shoving himself inside, “would’ve fucked you in the lecture halls after every single lecture if i’d known.”

no matter how much you had trained your gag reflex in the past, you gagged the moment his cock hit the back of your throat. you tried to bob your head back and forth, but when you noticed that his pace of fucking up into your throat was way too fast, you let him have his way with you. sanemi was fucking your mouth with vigor, his eyes never leaving yours as he nearly felt himself cum every time your throat tightened around him. if your throat was this tight, he couldn’t imagine how tight your cunt would be.

you couldn’t breathe, not with you breathing against his trimmed pubic hair when he pressed your head all the way against him, balls sticking to your chin. “good fuckin’ girl”, he groaned as you stood still and waited for him to pull away, and when he did, you gasped for air, threads of spit and precum connecting your lips to his cock, “stand up.” you did, knees wobbling as you felt weakened, but still excited for what was to come.

“nemi”, you breathed, “can’t… can’t wait. can you put it in?” you grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the kitchen, hands wandering from his supple chest and stomach to his thighs, “want you.” sanemi’s pupils were blown wide in lust and in a haze, he lifted you up by your ass to sit you down on the counter, his hands already pawing at whatever you were wearing until you were left in only your thong.

“dirty fucking slut”, he spoke as his eyes settled on the visibly wet patch in the middle of your underwear, and you spread your legs, inviting him in, eyes half-lidded and tits perked up, goosebumps covering your entire body, “got so wet from me fucking your face… was this what you imagined while i stood in the front and explained formulas to all those pieces of shit?”

you moaned loudly when his thick fingers prodded at your entrance through the lace, and he was considering just fucking you right them and there without even prepping you. you wouldn’t even say no to that. but you probably had to head to work tomorrow, and he found himself not being a bastard for once. if he was being honest though, you were going to be sore either way after he’d be done with you.

sanemi shoved your panties aside, not even bothering to take them off, as he gathered your juices of arousal, spreading them across your lips and the entrance. “nemi… sanemi…”, you chanted his name like a prayer, and when your hands found his buff wrist, his other hand shot up against your neck as he pressed down on your windpipe. he slid two of his fingers in as you gasped for air, your cunt trying to push his digits out as he forced his way inside, welcomed by your spongy walls. “m’ surprised by how tight you are”, he grunted as his cock pressed against your thigh, “although you’ve taken all the cocks on campus. haven’t you?”

he pressed down on your neck just a little harder as you shook your head, and when your face reddened, he let go to give you a break while his fingers started slamming in-and outside of you at a brutal pace, opening you up for his cock you’d be taking in a few minutes. “n-no!”, you gasped as your fingers found his face, and you gently rubbed the short stubbles on his chin while he fucked you with his fingers, “didn’t! not all! i swear…”

sanemi could tell you were close by the way your moans were getting louder and how you wriggled your hips and ass on the counter wilder than you were before. “stupid fucking bitch”, he spoke coldly as every word was punctuated by a thrust of his fingers, “all you thought about was cock, wasn’t it? how did a dumb whore like you even graduate?” his degrading words tipped you over as your first orgasm of the night washed over you, making you clamp down on sanemi’s fingers as your hands tightened on his face, and you pulled him close, body twitching and convulsing as you tried to come down from your high.

the man waited, not too long though, and he pushed you down on the counter, back hitting the cold material where you’d always prepare meals, and you let him spread your legs even wider to let him settle in-between them. his figure hunched over you, the kitchen lights illuminating his face like he was a saint, and when he rubbed his cock up and down your folds, you pulled his face up into a kiss. it was feverish, messy as you exchanged everything the other had to offer. he shoved his tongue down your throat as you moaned, sucking and biting as his thrusts against your cunt got harder, harsher. his hands played with your tits, squeezing them, twirling and pinching your nipples until they were sore.

“need you, sanemi”, you whined when you exchanged eye contact, and he hummed throatily while guiding himself to your entrance, the feeling of his tip prodding at your hole, the feeling enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. “please… please.” sanemi couldn’t help but just shove it all in with one hard thrust. he was an impatient man, and you tested him for so long. you had to take it.

he grabbed your legs to wrap them around his waist tightly, pressing him against you even closer as he got accustomed to the feeling of his cock inside your slick walls. “fuck”, he cursed, feeling like heaven as you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck to bury your head in his chest, fingers clasping down on his skin, surely leaving marks. he smelled, felt, sounded, looked so good. you couldn’t believe you were so lucky to have the man of your dreams fuck you.

“fuck, you’ve already gone dumb”, he laughed as he started moving, starting with steady, languid thrusts that got faster and harder, until he was pounding into you at a relentless pace. his hands were on either side of your head, arm muscles clenching and tensing with every movement, and when he pulled away from your embrace to drill into you even harder, you tried hard to keep your eyes open just to stare at his ethereal form.

silver strands of hair were damp with sweat, moving with each of his thrusts as sweat ran down his pale, scarred skin. his eyes were crazed, darkening as they darted over to where your bodies connected. your cunt kept sucking him in deliciously, and you would beg for him to go deeper, harder, while the sounds of skin slapping on skin and the squelching sounds the wetness of your pussy made turned both of you even more delirious with need.

when sanemi heard enough of your begging and whining, his hand found your throat again, stifling all of the sounds you made as they came out like garbled nonsense. you were like a fucking baby, clawing at his arms and back as you begged for more of his cock.

he knew he wasn’t going to last long, especially when he felt your body twitch beneath his as he knew you were at your limit. “c-”, you seethed out despite sanemi’s vice grip around your neck, “c-cming…” one more ferocious thrust and you saw white when he let go of your throat just in time to hear you letting out a scream. your legs clamped down tightly around his lower body as they tried to shut themselves instinctively, and when you opened your eyes again, you knew, felt he was going to cum any second now.

“inside”, you begged him as his eyes went wide while his eyes flickered from your cunt to your teary eyes, “need your cum to fill me up…” you were too sensitive, senses overly heightened as you felt every stroke of his cockhead against your cervix to the max, and you wrapped your arms around his neck once again, planting open-mouthed kisses on his neck while whining into his ear. “been dreaming of you filling me up for years, sanemi. give it to me?”

that’s all it took for him to still inside of you after a few more sloppy thrusts, and he grunted lowly into your shoulder as hot ropes of his seed painted your insides white while he gave a few more deep thrusts. you could almost taste it, that’s how thoroughly he kept fucking it into you, reaching deep inside your womb as he collapsed on top of you, still inside you while you recovered from your orgasms.

when sanemi pulled out and saw globs of his shiny, white cum dribbling down your hole, staining the counter, he felt himself getting hard again. you shuddered when you felt his fingers collecting all of his and your liquids and pushing them back inside your abused hole, before you chuckled.

now, you didn’t have a so-called blue vulva anymore, and you actually achieved your dreams of fucking your hot college professor. you’d have to thank your friends for that later.

[astrox]

Incubus Sanemi Shinazugawa x chubby! fem reader

tw//: 3.5k words! summoning rituals, swearing, masturbation, teasing, wet dreams, mentions of overstimulation, slight somnophilia, handjobs, phantom touching (involves a mirror), cliffhanger

authors note: MIGHT have multiples parts

Sacrificing the blood of a virgin to please a demon! Those words played in your head over and over again. The number of times your friends explained it, you couldn't fathom the idea. Summoning a demon is all they talked about, imagining the countless possibilities of a demon summoning ritual whether it was good or bad. Horror was their favourite movie genre and they fawned over the oversexualized demons shown on screen. You don't know if it's the raging hormones or the fact that your friends are weird—you'll still love them if that was the case. Numerous times, you passed off the topic, for movies and snacks. Drunk nights didn't help your situation either—the conversations getting weirder and repetitive.

Weeks passed and your friends offered to spend the night at your place for movie night. You couldn't say no to the company since you were bored. Hours since plans were made, you set up your living room. For years, you know what is always needed for movie night, snacks, comfort, and lighting.

The couches were already in position so the girls could sleep soundly if need be. Occasionally, you would share your bed since it was big enough for you three. Once everything was done and looked perfect, you settled on one of your couches, scrolling through social media on your phone. You ignored most of the posts, liking the ones you found interesting and took pictures of your setup. Until a knock at your door pulls you away. Clad in a tank top and short shorts, you threw your phone on the couch, hearing it bounce a couple of times. Opening the door wide, you see Shinobu and Mitsuri, standing in the doorway. In Shinobu's hands, she held questionable items in plastic bags, unlike the brown bags Mitsuri carried in hers.

"Sorry, we're late. Mitsuri wanted more snacks so she made some sakura mochi and dango," Shinobu explained. You let out a hum, mouth watering for Mitsuri's sweet.

"You know me, I love my sakura mochi and dango," The girl confessed, cheerfully.

"It's fine. I ordered a pizza too if you don't mind. It should be here in a few minutes," You said, inviting them inside. They settled in as if they lived with you. Like naughty roommates, they raided your kitchen where you kept your snacks on the counters. Mitsuri was the big eater out of the three of you and you knew the snacks would disappear in minutes. Shinobu sets her plastic bags on another counter where you leaned on your elbow. Raising a brow, you point at the bags. "What's in the plastic bags?"

The two girls shared a glance. Shinobu answers, "Oh just some...stuff,"

"Stuff? Let me see," You checked the bag for yourself, pulling out not one but five purple candles and white chalk. You also found a metal bowl, needles and a box of matches. Tossing the matches at Shinobu and chortled. "What the hell is all this, Shinobu? Are these wisteria scented candles?"

"Ah-ah! careful with the merchandise, Y/n! Candles help me relax especially wisteria," The woman cried, catching the matches with both hands. You didn't allow her to ignore your question and asked again. This time, Shinobu looked at Mitsuri, hogging on the ice cream from the container.

Then you remembered the ritual and asked, a finger poking a candle. "Wait-this stuff is for that weird demon ritual you guys were talking about a few weeks ago, isn't it? I remember you said wisteria was involved in the ritual,"

At first, the girls denied it, shaking their heads side to side. While you couldn't get your friend to confess, your eyes fell on Mitsuri. Holding your hips, you leaned in staring Mitsuri down. Mitsuri is smiling whilst her lips are wrapped around a spoon. Gazing back at Shinobu, your hands pulled her cheeks apart, making the girl whine out of annoyance. "Let a girl know about your evil schemes before you go behind her back, kay!"

"Oh no! I'm so sorry ma'am! it won't happen again," You said, trying to imitate your purple haired friend's voice. You squished her cheeks together so it looked like her lips were moving to your teasing. Releasing her face, you pat her face and flicked Mitsuri on the forehead. "You too, Mitsuri,"

"Ow, y/n-"

"Wait-you're not mad?" Asked Shinobu, rubbing her face. Shaking your head, you chuckled.

"Why would I be mad? You guys do weird shit all time. Who am I to judge when I do weird shit too," You answered with a shrug of your shoulders. The two girls smiled ear to ear, dismissing the pain you inflicted on them briefly. For a time, you settled on laying out everything the girls bought with them just for them—thought it will be hard to refuse them later on. "But I am mad that you didn't think to tell me before you brought these things into my home. This is not an occult club. You're lucky I love you guys or else you would be kicked outside."

"We're sorry," The girls said in unison, earning a pat on their shoulders. "We won't do it again,"

"Now we're getting somewhere, thank you." You smiled, hugging them close. "Well, now that we have that out of the way, we can do your little ritual thingy first since it's quicker,"

"Oh yay!" Mitsuri cheers, closing the ice cream tub. She puts the ice cream back in your fridge and snatched Shinobu's plastic bags. She gently pushed you aside and picked a clearing on your floor. She carefully dumps the contents all over the floor.

"You do realize that you're the virgin sacrifice, right?" Shinobu mentioned.

"And you do realize that this is all fake and I'm just playing along, right?" You added on, hopping onto your counter. You waited, watching the girls set up their items on your floor. Your legs swing back and forth, occasionally hitting the cabinets below. They needed silence so they muted your tv just as the news appeared on the screen. Shinobu drew a pentagram using chalk and Mitsuri placed the wisteria candles around the circle. She didn't light them until Shinobu directs you to the middle of the pentagram. You were surprised to see how fast it took for it to be done.

"The instructions we found online said that the sacrifice should be here. Lie down on your back and give me your finger," Shinobu instructs you and you did. Making sure to be careful with the chalk, you slowly lowered yourself and laid down on your back. As for your finger, you held it out, not expecting Shinobu to prick it with a needle.

"Ow, you bitch! Warn me next time," You yelped.

"You're fine, it's just a prick," Shinobu used the blood from your finger and draws a symbol on your forehead. After Mitsuri lights the candles, you froze. One wrong move will result in your hair or clothes catching on fire. Your friends take their place, sitting across from each other, one on each side. Mitsuri mouthed comforting words, and Shinobu recited an incantation. Blinking, you rest one hand on your stomach and the other one sits on your chin with your finger in your mouth.

Lord of darkness. We offer you this virgin—blah blah blah. Are the lines you can remember, too distracted by your bloody finger. You suckled on your blood, hearing the ritual continue on and on. Shinobu would then stretch her hands by her side along with Mitsuri and chant the incantation over and over again faultlessly.

Did they rehearse or something? Your eyes would move between the girls, voices growing in volume. It's strange, to hear no laughter nor mispronunciation of the words—spoken in a language you couldn't recognise or understand. Suddenly the candles exhausted their flames. You flinched, releasing a rasp and shot up on your palms. The space became dim, the muted tv serving as the main light source throughout the room.

"What the fuck was that?" You shouted, voice sounding spooked. Mitsuri and Shinobu glanced at each other. Neither knew anything about the strange phenomenon. You were on edge but rest assured a knock at your door brought you back to reality. It was the pizza you ordered for delivery. Mitsuri jumped up on her feet to collect the money you left aside for the pizza.

"Hi! Thank you for the pizza!" Mitsuri greeted and bowed. She handed him the money in exchange for the pizza. "Oh, it smells so yummy! Thanks again, Mr Pizza Guy! Have a great night!"

"Anyways, I found a bunch of movies for tonight," Shinobu pointed out, gesturing to your little setup. "We should get this little party started,"

Nodding your head, you retreated to the bathroom to wash your face. You kept a first aid kit under your sink and found the bandages in a little box. Wrapping the bandage around your finger, you smooth the bumps down. For the next ten minutes, you helped your friends carry the food to your sofas, blankets and pillows too. You sat down with your tv remote in hand. Shinobu took over the screen and would ask if you and Mitsuri wanted to pick from her selections. You picked the movie midsommar sitting at the bottom of Shinobu's list. Mitsuri couldn't decide on what movie she wanted to watch and settled on your pick. 

Meanwhile, in the depths of all that seemed evil and choleric, the realm the humans called hell housed firey ghouls and demons. Powerful but horrid creatures or doomed souls condemned to their eternal suffering. Near the flaming rivers, a lonely incubus would awake from his deep sleep. How he awoke is unknown to the other creatures lurking in the deep but to him, it's so simple. After dreaming for so long, he was finally offered a sacrifice—an exquisite one.

"It's about damn time, you little shits-" He spoke amidst the middle of a loud yawn. He yearned for this moment and already he's intrigued by you. For Sanemi, this meant a lot. It gives him a gateway to earth instead of terrorizing his little brother to alleviate his boredom. Weary demonic eyes, found his window to see into the human world. 

He could see into your little apartment and your two little friends keeping you company. Dressed in those shorts and that tank top, the demon's temptation grows more and more with the sight of your skin and his tongue traced his lips, hungrily. Plump in all the right places, voluptuous and pure—all for him, sent blood rushing to his cock. Watching you spread on your sofa, You jumped in your spot as a gruesome scene played on the screen. Your arms stretched over your face using your shirt as a shield and you whined. The action showed your ribcage little by little. 

Fascinated. The demon leaned in a little more, catching a glimpse of the underside of your breast after your hand got caught in your shirt. A soft groan would leave his lips, and a clawed hand slowly travels over his crotch. Watching on, your body would turn on its side, thighs clamped together and arms cuddled around you, you let out a yawn as your movie continued. Eventually, you chowed down on a dango stick when Mitsuri offered. Your teeth bite down on a ball and pull it off its stick.

"These taste amazing Mitsuri!" You moaned, taking another ball into your mouth. Seeing your pink tongue poking out from between your lips, made the demon's cock twitch against his hand.

"Fucking hell-" The demon whispered, grinding into his palm, imagining it was your hand instead. Moving his fingers, his gaze never leaving you and his cock stood when he pushed his loincloth to the side. An aroused sigh rumbles in his chest, fisting and pumping his cock deliberately. Something thick in his throat forced him to swallow in an attempt to subdue his sweet lust for pleasure. He wished it was your cunt squeezing him, milking him for all he's got.

Beads of precome oozed from his tip and ran down his shaft, coating every one of his fingers. He hissed, paying no mind to those who heard him moan. He has no shame whatsoever, throwing his head back. Moans drown out the souls falling into hell around him. 

"Oh Y/n, you should have a bite! It's a donut (psst...rengoku) bun with whip cream inside," Mitsuri offered a bite of her bun. You leaned in, sinking your teeth into the bun and to the demon's dismay, cream from the bun spilt all over your chest.

"Oh, shit-" You and Mitsuri squealed, followed by laughter. Swiping the cream off your cleavage, you sucked it off your fingers, compelling another groan from the incubus. More of his slick seeped and his free hand would cup his balls, fondling them in his grip. Stroking his cock, Sanemi quickens the pace of his hand, feeling the prominent veins on his shaft pulsating and his desire roils like wildfire. His lips stretched into a grin as his mind was set on claiming your body for himself.

"I'm so sorry y/n. I had no idea it was gonna make a mess," Misturi apologized, handing a napkin.

"It's alright Suri!" Laughing it off, you licked the last of the cream off your fingers and wiped your finger on the napkin. It's what sent Sanemi over the edge. Never in his existence has Sanemi come so fast. He groaned lowly, spurts sprayed hitting his chest and covering his tip. Hot thick globes rolled down his shaft painting his red skin white. A fanged smile stuck on his blissed face, heavy pants and his cock still pulsing in his fist. 

And with that, he journeyed above the underworld. Patience is all that was required of him and all will be his. For you, it meant absolute torture. At first, you denied his presence as you carried on with your life, working your ass off and earning money to pay for your everyday living. As for the ritual, it slipped your mind after your friends left your apartment, leaving you alone with Sanemi. To you, it was fake—written by freaks on the internet to drive people insane. But in time you'd later regret that. 

Sanemi would make signs. Possessing objects in your apartment and messing with your head. Every night, he'd watch you sleep but not once would he let you rest without him granting you a taste of what he's capable of. It starts as phantom touches, his hands running up on your ankles to the heftiness of your thighs. The closer he got between your legs, he stops sending shivers throughout your entire body. He's a tease, only leaning back to enjoy the show. Tainting your skin is his love marks, red and purple hickeys that you hid with more layers of clothing—even makeup. Along with the marks are scratches and bruises lined on your thighs. 

Sanemi carried on this behaviour for weeks and some nights you would never sleep at all. Clueless of the cause, you spent those sleepless nights huddled in a blanket and a cup of coffee to keep you awake. Google also became your best friend, frantically scouring the internet for answers. This messes with Sanemi's patience until he plagues your thoughts with the image of him fucking you. Thoughts that have you hot and bothered, hands trembling down your body.

"What's h-happening to me!" You question, pushing your underwear aside. 

You were no strange to masturbating, although you never plunged your fingers inside you. Only rubbing outside of your underwear, tracing your lower lips and rolling your breast in your hands did the trick—most of the time. Watching you through your mirror, Sanemi hums as your fingers disappear in your cunt, your slick glistening your pretty lips and the calling of his name. Lying face down and ass up, you whimper whilst the new sensation of your fingers moving made a mess beneath you.

Come on my pretty little human. Say my name. Moan for me pretty girl. Sanemi snickered from inside the mirror.

"Sanemi!...s-sanemi," You cried out, overstimulating yourself to an extent. Mouth pooling with drool and cheeks stained with your tears, you parted your fingers to feel your gummy walls stretch. You'd imagined what sanemi's cock felt like inside, his cum filling you to the brim. "Please...sanemi,"

Your cries and mewls were music to Sanemi's ears so much that he couldn't take it anymore. One night, he appears in your bedroom, crawling out of the mirror that is standing in the corner of your bedroom. He's tall, his body littered with scars all over his chest, arms and face. A pair of dark black wings stretched out and black curve horns barely scratched the ceiling.  Wings blocking the moonlight, his shadow obscured your safe space. Sanemi's eyes fall on you sleeping in your bed, affected by him invading your mind. You mutter in your sleep, mostly his first name.

"Sanemi...sanemi," You said repeatedly, body tossing and turning every few seconds. The demon snickers, running his hands up your ankle to your juicy thigh still beneath the covers. He grips it, hearing you let out a squirm. Tugging the covers off you ever so slowly, your skin shivers and goosebumps began to form. Sanemi drools over your curves clothed in your f/c nightdress.

"Such a sweet little human," The creature smirked, feeling his anticipation rive inside him. "You're a difficult one. I'd give you that," 

Taking your jaw into his hand, Sanemi pressed a light kiss on top of yours. A sweet display of affection that was sure to be the first of many. It makes you smile right as Sanemi stops invading your mind, granting you a moment of peace. However, it was time for the real thing.

Leaning over your body, Sanemi's clawed finger loops under the strap of your nightdress and starts to pull it down. Still moving down, Sanemi comes upon a realisation once he reveals your chest. Your breast bounced when free, nipples perking from the cold. No bra huh? He said internally, groping your mounds with his colossal hands. His fingers would pinch your nipples then tug. Twirling them between the pad of his finger and thumb, Sanemi's long tongue stuck out when his lips brushed your collarbone. Lathering your beautiful skin in his saliva, the incubus is set on torturing your pure heart and soul. He made sure to leave bright new marks over the old ones fading away but refuses to bite you—at least not right now.

When Sanemi's head meets the valley of your chest, Sanemi dips his head to the side and takes a nipple into his mouth. Circling the bud, he watched your face still lost in sleep. He wonders how long it will take for you to wake up because of him. One hand would abandon your breast just to tear off the rest of your nightdress leaving you in your underwear. A loud rip should've roused you out of slumber yet you stayed still.

That lingering hand would cup your clothed pussy, feeling it dampened from his touch. His fingers drew circles on the wet spot making you stir in your sleep—finally some movement. He kissed his way down, loving every inch of your smooth skin, caressing your soft tummy and getting closer to your forbidden fruit. Lying fully on his stomach, his nose sniffed the air. By the gods, he could smell your arousal. The aroma is so intoxicating his mouth watered and his dick harder. Rubbing his nose on the waistband of your panties, he takes a big sniff. 

"Oh fuck," He groaned, loudly and takes another big sniff.

Like a mad man deprived of a good meal, he laps up the soaked material, grinding his nose on your clit taking in more of your alluring fragrance. Tasting so sweet, he tears your panties off with his teeth and dips his tongue between your folds. Prying your thighs further apart, he pushed his face in more, sucking up your delicious slick. He poked you with the tip of his slippery tongue, wriggling it before he wrap his lips around your clit. Sinfully noises filled Sanemi's pointy ears with your legs closing on his head. Sneaking a hand between your thigh, he slips a finger inside your pussy and instantly feels your walls clamp down. 

Sanemi grins, parting from your clit with a pop. "You're really clamping down on my finger, princess," 

Looming over your face, Sanemi eyes you sleeping whilst his finger prods inside you. He's surprised you haven't woken up yet. It's boring not seeing your face twist in pleasure. With a click of his tongue, he adds another finger that made your body twitch. A soft moan is the only sound Sanemi could pick up, halting his ministrations. His wings flopped by his side in annoyance, and the demon frowns. Somehow, Sanemi is not enticed by the idea of taking you in your sleep, especially in a small space. He wants you to watch him make you feel good on his cock. He wants you to scream his names so other demons knew who you belong to.

This was not fun at all

likes & reblogs are appreciated <3 if you see any grammar mistakes...keep that shit to yourself

[astrox]

Sanemi in a bunny suit Sanemi in a bunny suit Sanemi in a bunny suit Sanemi in a bunny suit Sanemi in a bunny suit Sanemi in a bunny suit Sanemi in a bunny suit Sanemi in a bunny suit

[astrox]

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 / 𝟎𝟐

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

not proofread (too lazy)

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀

⇾ description of injuries and cause of death

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒

@sanemisfav

( previous chapter )

Your body couldn't move against the weight on top of you. You couldn't breathe, smoke clogged your lungs. You were drifting in and out of consciousness. The debris crushing your body kept you pinned as the fire roared above you. Only your hand could slip between the cracks and signal to anyone nearby that you were trapped, pleading for someone to rescue you. 

"Y/N!" 

Snatched up from the pile of rubble, you found yourself in the arms of your older brother. His appearance looked wild, his s/c skin covered in blood and ash. The state of his face frightened you the most. Often seen with a smile on his face, half of his face is burned to a crisp.

 "F-found you, Little Red," He muttered over the crack of the blaze. He carried your body like it was nothing and limped towards the exit whilst you coughed profusely. 

"B-brother...your face," You whimpered, reaching out to touch. 

"I'll be fine," He assured you, slipping off his pinky ring. The second your fingers graze your brother's wounds, he disappears after he slips his ring onto your right ring finger. Your vision is cloudy until you find yourself surrounded by more fire. 

Sometimes, you dreamt of the past. It's nothing more than a blur the more your memories slowly forget all that has happened. The fire. The town. Your Father, and Mother. Your brothers. It always ends the same, walking out of the flaming building untouched by its fiery grip and to the villagers' shock, you appear to have spawned from hell. 

"Monster! Murderer! Burn Her!"

"No no no! Stop it!" The tips of your fingers turned black, revealing the darkness hiding within you. Flaring images plagued your mind, preventing you from seeing what was real or fake. While everything continued to fall apart, the charred hands of your family emerged from the blaze and grabbed onto your body. 

"Brother help me!" You cried feeling your body being lifted off the ground. Against your wishes, the hands of your family begin to pull you back into the inferno. You fight, clawing at the flaking skin, grabbing hold of whatever your hands can reach and holding on tight. 

You needed to know why you were robbed of a family. Why you were the only one left alive? Everyone you know is leaving you behind and you won't be able to remember them. To mourn their deaths without memory is far worse than living in isolation. Without Winter, you'll forever be alone. Who's to say that when you leave this world who would be there to remember you?  

Awaken by a tongue licking your hand, you jumped seeing Winter standing beside your bed. You leaned up coated in cold sweat and examined your hands. Nothing covered your fingers and your brother's ring sat perfectly on your finger. Sighing in relief, you settled beneath your covers and felt your pup jump onto your mattress. Winter snuggling against your leg always comforted you at this times like these. It lets you know that you're not alone and you were grateful for it. 

Raising your right arm above your face, you looked over the ring. For some unknown reason, you've sensed something each time you stared at the ring. You don't what it was as the trouble has been bugging you since you possessed the ring. Then again, you were unable to remember most of your past. One nightmare after the other, the memories of your loved ones fade away. You don't want to forget. You just wanted to know the truth. 

A stinging sensation in your head forced out a hiss. It was happening again. Sitting up in a flash, you gripped the right side of your head, lamenting in pain. Quickly, you breathed in and slowly to ease the pulsing feeling, rubbing circles against your temple and where the pain stemmed from. You did this for a while until the pain subsided and you downed the glass of water sitting on your nightstand.

The first thing you did in the morning after every nightmare was write down all that you could remember in a journal. You wrote down about your brother's injury, the villagers, your fingers turning black, and your family's hands emerging from the fire. Everything you wrote over the years seemed out of place—like the pieces of a puzzle placed in the wrong spots. Then a thought.

"Little Red," You read after writing it down the page. "My brother called me little red," 

Ending your entry there, you looked around your bedroom before they land on your red hood, hanging on a coat rack. You walked over to the rack and took the hood along with some clothes to change into. 

For hours, you tended the wolfman in your old room. Concerns over a fever came to pass almost instantly. The warmth radiating from this stranger's body was merely his body temperature returning to normal, which was good news. You believed that he possessed healing factors that worked two times faster than humans. As always, you leave a plate of food beside his bed if he wakes up during the day. If the food hadn't been touched, you'd feed it to Winter or use it in your garden as compost. 

Every day, you grew cautious of the hunters searching around your area. Thanks to the trees and Winter distracting them, you'd sneak by during your herb gathering. However, as you'd watch them lay out the bear traps after you noticed a familiar face. The man you saw across the river. You've got a better look at his appearance. Short black hair, pale blue eyes with unusual pink coloured eyelashes. Your eyes spotted the tattoos on his forearms, marking him a criminal for life.

Situated on the root of a tree was another man, tall, young, with long platinum blonde hair and rainbow-coloured eyes. The man eyes the black-haired man, then laughs. "Hey, Akaza! Did you know the saliva of a wolf has antiseptic properties? I wonder if that works for hybrids. If wonder if humans can do that too," 

"Would you shut the hell up Douma and help me with these traps," Akaza demands, hiding a set trap under some leaves. He reached around for another before he starts moving to another spot.

"Imagine the hybrid we're looking for trying to lick its wounds, but it can't reach!" The man laughs. Despite Akaza's annoyed snarks, Douma continues to test his partner's patients without giving him a hand at laying down bear traps. Instead, he plays around with the fans he kept hanging on his belt. 

"It's a shame that Kokushibou couldn't join us. He's a better conversationalist after all." Douma frowned, slumping against a tree trunk. Akaza rolled his eyes, separating the bear trap by its teeth. "And too bad, we couldn't keep the money we made from Yahaba's armour. I need new clothes that go well with my fans. Blue, black maybe re-"

"Just shut up already!" 

Not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself, you sneaked away and pulled your hood over your head. You spoke. "I need to be more careful coming this way,"

You returned to that spot late at night, tossing a stick to trigger any bear traps. Startled by a few sprouting out of their hiding places, you jumped back. The chain reactor rather quickly, causing you to sigh in relief before you retreated. Meanwhile, back at your cottage, another suffers from his own nightmares. A little boy standing in the dark, scared and alone. This boy fidgets with his fingers before his lips part and calls out a name.

"Nemi!"

© 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎 — all works belong to astrox! do not plagiarize, recommend, or translate my work without my permission

[astrox]

I NEED YOUR HELP TO SPREAD THIS

This blog in the photo accompaninstuo91 does not have a proper blog. When you click on their blog, an image pops up asking you if you're 18 and if you say yes or no, it directs you to a virus/porn site that isnt on tumblr

The bots are evolving to actively redirect you/ give viruses to you

Please reblog this so you dont fall victim. Do not click follow or try to go onto their blog, instead the only way to report them is to click the little three dots and click report

@staff please stop shit like this

[astrox]

bro at this point I might delete this account because the porn bots are annoying! plus wattpad is my main account for writing

[astrox]

a preview of my new sanemi smutshot (with a plus size reader) because I love him so much

Sanemi didn’t realise he wanted kids until he saw you chatting with his brother, Genya. The younger shinazugawa brother blushed when he asked you for dating advice after he admit to having a crush on one of his classmates. You congratulated the boy approving of Genya's crush, making the boy's beat red.

Without hesitation, Genya called you a pro at taming the beast that is his brother which made Sanemi snarl at the poor boy. You laughed loudly, earning a little tug on your cheek. Seated on the couch, Sanemi ushers you to continue your little talk while he stuck around and listened. It was cute seeing you act all motherly towards Genya, as you let him in on all you know. With you ruffling Genya's mohawk and squeezing his cheeks together, it awoke something dreadful inside of Sanemi.

The idea of you being the mother of his children suddenly became a dream (behind marriage). Just the thought of you all swollen and glowing, sent blood rushing to places he hid under a cushion. Your tempting figure didn't help his situation either. From your thighs, your butt and your adorable little tummy, he applauds himself for running into you. However, society often despises big woman and believe that your body type is far from its ridiculous beauty standards. While that's true, Sanemi finds everything about you absolutely beautiful and if anyone was to question him they would end up in the hospital.

tags: @sanemisfav

[astrox]

when you get more p0rn bot followers than actual people

[astrox]

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 / 𝟎𝟏

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

not proofread (too lazy)

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀

⇾ description of injuries and cause of death

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒

@sanemisfav ( i love you but I love sanemi more)

( previous chapter )

You've spent restless hours tending to the stranger's wounds, applying a slave of mint, chamomile and clay on the smaller injuries before you wrapped them in bandages to clear them of any infections. The stab wound, however, was a hard one to tackle as you rummaged through your things to find your grandmother's sewing kit. The dagger pierced his right side, below the rib cage. If he had lost any more blood he would've lost his life. You carefully stitched the puncture shut, taking precautions not to cause more harm than good and covered it in bandages like his other wounds. 

After you've done all you could, you manage to move him into the spare room with a bed once you cleaned his body of all the blood. This was your old room that your younger self would sleep in whenever you came by to visit your grandmother. Now you sleep in her room and leave the other vacant without an owner. It took you almost an hour just to get him onto the bed. 

Earlier you planned on dressing him in whatever you could find in your house, only to rely on a blanket to cover his privates. Too embarrassed, you couldn't look at the man naked any longer. All the clothes you found belonged to your father and your two older brothers. None of them fit, either they were too big or too small, which is why you were surprised when you found a bag near the pool of blood. Inside the bag are men's clothes that are a perfect fit. Gliding your hand along the fabric of a shirt, you piled most of the clothes onto your lap. 

"These must be his clothes...at least he came prepared," You thought. 

"Winter no! Stay away!" You scold the dog the moment she jumped on the bed as you clothed the man. Winter didn't listen, her nose poking at his legs. You lightly shoved her back by her nose, laughing. "Go annoying the rabbits you adorable dog," 

Tucking him in a blanket, you sighed in relief knowing that you'd saved his life and kept a close eye on him in case his condition suddenly change. Moving onto the huge mess left on your floor, you'd spend the rest of your afternoon. The dagger that the wolf pulled out of himself was left untouched. You wished to find the owner who might have been killed and learn more about the hunters. Where did they come from? Who are they? Why hunts this wolf?

As the hours turned into days, you wandered around the forest just to see if the hunters had returned. During the search, Winter sniffed out the wolf's blood splattered on the roots of a tree. You wiped a handkerchief on the roots staining the cloth with the dry blood for Winter. 

Using your canine's nose, you tracked the trail near the outskirts of your old village. Then taking out the dagger from your pouch, the cause of the wolfman's horrific injury, you allowed Winter's nose to catch another scent. She followed the scent on the dagger's grip to an outlook looking over the town. You gazed over your hometown seeing no change. You wondered if the townsfolk changed over the years since your departure. 

"It still looks the same as before," You thought to yourself. 

Following Winter near a group of bushes, you discover the body of a fair-skinned hunter leaning against a tree. He appeared to be short, with short brown hair. The clothes he wore provided little to no protection as they were frail and covered in blood. 

"Someone must have taken his armour," You assumed. Checking for a pulse, huge bite marks caught your eye. They tore through his neck and no doubt the cause of this hunter's demise. Then again he did stab a wolf so carelessly as you presumed. Large claw marks on the man's stomach are another cause of death. 

"That wolf...man did this?" You asked yourself, stepping away from the corpse. Winter yaps whilst you gazed down at the hunter's dagger. You cleaned the dagger using the clean side of your handkerchief and set it in the hunter's hand. "And no one came back for this hunter's body. He probably has a family or friends who must be worried sick-" 

You didn't know what to make of your situation. Whether to drag the corpse near the gate for someone to find or not. Perhaps you'd be welcomed back into your village and be deemed a hero if you turned in the beast or stay an outcast. All options could open new opportunities if you were that kind of person. You're not. Despite your distaste for people, you'd never sell someone out for your own benefit. It never works well in the end and you'd be left with regret until the end of your days. 

Fidgetting with your ring, you turned to the village. In all honesty, you fantasised about the day you'd find yourself roaming your old neighbourhood. The nostalgia you'd feel will be overwhelming for your inner child to bear as you'd passed by the places where you used to play. Then you'd stop in front of the town hall where an unavoidable event occurred. Tempering with the hunter's body, you made sure the body wasn't lying in murky dirt. If his corpse was to become maggot food, you would at least want him to look presentable till then. 

As luck would have it, no one had looted the body and fished out the man's coin pouch. You place two coins over the man's eyes after you lay him down on top of a leaf bed. Then, you cross his arms over his chest once you put the dagger back in its sheath. Lowering your head in silence you muttered a few words before you look down at Winter. "Pray that you find peace in the afterlife because you deserve to suffer for bringing harm to an animal," 

"We should head back Winter," You suggested. 

On your way back, you revisited the river. Washing your hands in the water and splashing your face, you dug into your bag for the handkerchief covering a badge. You nicked the hunter's crest badge off the man's corpse, a pretty blue shield with a dagger coated in blood engraved in the middle. The dagger on the badge resembled the hunter's dagger and you decided to keep the badge to recognize the hunters easily in your trips around the forest. You cleaned it along with your handkerchief, hoping that the blood would wash off well enough for the cloth to be used again. 

The blood didn't come off easily so you left it as it is and continued the long walk back to your cottage. However, you didn't expect your uninvited guest to be awake after a nightmare. You stumbled in on him off his bed, recollecting his thoughts and scanning his surroundings on his own two feet before he grunts in pain and falls to the floor. 

A soft gasp from you startled him as you rushed over to his side. Reluctant to your help, you still grabbed onto his arm, opposite his injured side which he protest against. 

"D-don't touch me-" He protested, yet you stood your ground and pointed near the stitches. He resisted, however, the pain he felt was too unbearable to ignore. 

"If you move any further you're going to tear your stitches and die in minutes," You tell him, keeping a steady grip on his arm, you assured him. "I have medicine that can help with the pain," 

Your grasp is so gentle on his forearm and shoulder, providing him with the support to haul him to his feet. Somehow that started to annoy him. 

"I don't need your help-" He cuts himself off, misstepping on one foot. Your hand quickly straightens him up by his chest. Head turning towards you, you're taken back by a vibrant pair of violet eyes staring deeply into yours. 

"Easy," You spoke, easing him back onto the bed where he slips out of consciousness once more. You cradle his head, resting it on top of the pillow and noticed the beads of sweat on his forehead. Feeling his head with the back of your hand, you groaned quietly. 

"A fever," You said, internally.  

© 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎 — all works belong to astrox! do not plagiarize, recommend, or translate my work without my permission

[astrox]

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 Instead of making oneshot after oneshot, I decided to turn my werewolf oneshot into a story

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘

A fear sparked within a village when a wolf had been rumoured to loom around in the forest. A group of hunters chasing after the animal described the beast as something they'd never seen before. A village outcast by the name of Y/n is tending to her garden, laying traps for the little critters when she hears strange noises. 

Appearing before her is a wounded wolf with a knife sticking out its side. Without an ounce of fear in her eyes, she opens her door to the wolf seeing the light of the hunters draw near. It's after, that she finds a naked man lying in a pool of his own blood. While nursing the man back to health, Y/n discovers more about herself and her family, as love blooms between her and the stranger.

ᝰ ⊹ . · 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀

⇾ Wolf Hybrid Sanemi x Fem Reader ⇾ Reader is CHUBBY!! ⇾ Reader's family are conjurers (witches) ⇾ Base of my Little Red Riding Hood Oneshot ⇾ slowburn romance ⇾ smut is included but not until later ⇾ Violence & mention of character deaths

In your little village, its people shammed those who are different. It's a flaw that drove your family tree to splinters and burned in hellfire until you were all that remained. Your people believed it to be a curse set upon your family for dwelling in witchcraft. You knew better and deemed it an accident. Despite your beliefs, you were accused of murder at eleven years old. Instead of death, the village sentenced you to live as a nobody, an outcast without a name. As an outcast, you were forced to leave with nothing but the clothes on your back and your brother's ring. Luckily, you knew of a cottage that belonged to your late grandmother so the villager's hopes of you becoming wolf food ceased to become a reality. 

Nowadays trouble in your little village usually revolved around the drunkards of the local taverns, starting numerous bar fights and damaging public property. A pathetic display that one might call it from time to time repeatedly only to be ignored a day after. No one gets involved unless the town is on fire. No one but the authorities can handle the men. Surrounded by lush green forests, your village is among the smallest, therefore, it's not a big tourist destination like the big cities and not a lot are willing to live amidst its people. 

One day, five hunters from the neighbouring village arrived in town unannounced, causing quite a stir for your people. It has been years since the last visitors and these men yearned for a taste of the villager's mead after a long day of hunting. Everyone welcomed these men as if kings and queens had arrived, serving them food and providing a warm inn for them to rest. 

These strangers went off about a wolf roaming the forest, snatching up animals and other hunters that crossed paths with the strange beast. The hunters described the wolf as something they'd never seen before. It's bigger than any ordinary wolf. Its fur is silver, and its eyes are black like a raven's feather. According to the hunters, it was last spotted near the outskirts of your village. Unlike everyone else in your village, you're the only one who hasn't received word about the wolf stalking you picking weeds by a river, adorned in your grandmother's bright red hood.

Pulling off another vine, you rinsed off the dirt in the river. As you cleaned off the herbs, the sound of twigs snapping followed by feet scurrying away caught your attention. You pulled your hood down and snapped your gaze towards the noises. A hand touches your boot, where you kept a knife as added security, fingers undoing the buckle. Your eyes searched the tall trees, and the dirt landscape blended with the rocky terrain for the source of your distraction. As for sounds, you listened for the birds, the river bashing against the stone and splashing. Whatever was lurking in the woods had swept your mind, imagining a rabbit or fox smelling the contents coming from your satchel. 

Taking the freshly washed weeds, you wrapped them in your handkerchief before you stashed them into your satchel. Whilst, you tucked the herbs away, your eyes fell on your right hand. On your ring finger is the ring that belongs to your old brother, who wore it on his pinky. 

"Y/n! Go! Run! Get out of here and don't look back!" Your brother's voice rang in your head with the mystery of your family's death left unsolved. Nine years have passed since then and memories of it slowly evolved from recurring nightmares to a big blur. You missed them terribly and would do whatever it took to see them again. Twisting the ring, your mind lingered on the voices of the deceased, mourning them in silence. 

Snapping you out of your thoughts is a wet nose touching your leg. Darting down, you find your black and white siberian husky brushing her head against your shin. Kneeling down, you ruffled the dog's black fur affectionately. 

"I'm alright Winter," You assured your blue-eyed canine, giving her a couple of pats on top of her head. Stuffing a hand into a pocket of your satchel, you feed Winter one of her treats. "There's a good girl," 

Winter yaps, nudging your hand and pounces to lick your face. You laughed, moving the dog away. "Let's catch dinner already, you cheeky pooch!" 

Ignoring the piece of jewellery, you took a few steps along the bay, stopping near the end of a rope leading into the water. You leaned down, picking up the cord and wrapping it around your wrist. Fishing in a big river such as this wasn't always an easy task. However, you've had years to learn how to fight the currents and made small nets to collect fish for you and your dog Winter. Looping around a tree trunk, you tugged onto the rope until the net came into view. You tied the rope off when you hauled the net onto the shore.  

"one...two...three," You counted your haul, carefully moving each fish into a large woven basket. "Ah, we have a good haul today Winter! Eight fish to last us a whole week," 

"After dinner, I can set up the wire fence to keep the other animals out of the garden." Strapping the lid of the baskets down, you rolled up your nets to use in your next catch. "There all done!" 

 You whistled. "Winter home!" 

Immediately, Winter disappeared into the brushes leaving you to shrug the basket over your shoulder. Feeling eyes on your shoulder, you spun on your heel to see an unfamiliar man walking on the other side of the river. He carried a beartrap, exploring the river bank until he noticed you gaping from afar. Assuming he lived in the village, you turned away without hesitation and carried on home, following winter's yelps. 

Tucked away further in the middle of the woods stands your grandmother's cottage—well your cottage now. You've spent the last few years maintaining it to stand against the forces of nature and to be suited to your needs. Your garden is the favourite part of your home, planting all your vegetables till they were ready for harvest. Unfortunately, the upsurge of sneaky wildlife has been a nuisance for your vegetables, especially your lettuce and carrots. You'd wake up to half-eaten veggies or bug-infested produce.

In the fall of night, you were tending to the wire fencing, using pliers to twist the wires over your wooden fence frames. Winter occupied the window, watching you moving about in the dark with one lantern lighting your way. Once your twist the wire over your fence, you nailed it down the ends and pegged them into the dirt. 

Meanwhile, not far, the hunters were on the hunt, chasing the wolf. The long chase started moments after one of the hunters sacrificed themselves and stabbed its side with a dagger. The men gained on the animal a few times, yelling profanities and gloating on an easy catch. It took a bump in the road for the wolf to manoeuvre its way down a hill and gain speed. Inhaling, the wolf caught a whiff of something sweet, deeper in the woods.

I smell magic

The hunters armed with crossbows shoot arrows in the wolf's direction only to miss every single shot. Under the moonlight, the wolf could be seen but when hidden in the shadows the wolf is lost. He uses the shadows as an advantage leading the hunters the wrong way. 

Don't lose consciousness yet!

"Damn it! Don't lose the son of a bitch now! Bring the dogs to sniff it out and the rest of you follow the blood!" A tall man yells, pointing his lantern to the ground.

Shaking your new fence barrier, you hummed in approval and wiped the dirt off your hands ready to settle in for the night. Oblivious to a wolf heading your way, you checked over the fence one more time only for something to catch your eyes. Before you could investigate, Winter barking grabs your attention. Winter's paws scratch at the windows forcing you to attempt to silence her yaps. "Winter hush! What's the matter, girl?" 

The canine refuses to listen and as you approach the front door something heavy hits your back, causing you to fall to the ground. You yelped when you landed on your stomach wondering what had caused your fall. A growl urged you to face the source of the source. Dropping the lantern in your hand, The dim light lets you catch a glimpse of the animal. 

Standing over you is the large wolf, glaring down at you and licking its blood-stained teeth. You lay there, unprovoked, accepting your fate as the wolf's supper. Even if you were quick to defend yourself you wouldn't make it inside your house. You didn't scream nor move a muscle, just locking eyes, you feel the animal's annoyance, its anger. 

Leaning its head near the side of your neck, you shut your eyes tightly and heard the animal inhaling your scent. All you could do is stay still and allow the wolf to get a hint of your scent. Time felt slow as you lay there in confusion. Any ordinary wolf would've torn you apart right about now. 

Sensing the creature's nose trailing down then up your right arm, your hand got a feel of its snout. Snapping your head to the side, you witness the wolf licking at your brother's ring. Raising a brow your body shifts startling the wolf and making the knife in its side move.

Whimpering and straggling away in pain, your eyes spot the blood staining its fur. You gasped, seeing the blood showering on the soil beneath its feet. Shuffling back towards your front door, you eyed the cascade of blood and saw the knife sticking out its side. It aches your kind heart to see animals in pain, mainly if humans were to blame. Raising your free hand, you intended on calming him to earn his trust.  

"You're hurt," You whispered, reaching a hand out slowly, offering the wolf the help it needed.  "Please let me help you," 

 At first, it hesitates but the moment is interrupted by loud voices in the distance. Peering behind the wolf, you see light. 

"It went this way!"

"It won't go that far with its wounds," 

"Fuck! Find it before we lose it again!" 

Looking back at the wolf, you asked. "They're after you,"

Instantly, you jumped up on your feet, rushing over to your door. You opened it, motioning the animal to enter. "Come," 

No response so you try again. "Come here boy," 

The wolf is still uncertain, but you never falter from wanting to help him. Seeing the lights getting closer, you couldn't help and yell. "Get your ass in here if you want to live!"

Your yelling made the wolf dash into your house. You closed the door behind you, blowing out all the candles you had lit, including your lantern. Darkness quickly flooded your home, but Winter's yaps never stop and you were lucky enough to leave her in your bedroom while you tend to your garden. 

"Winter hush," You whispered your plea, sticking your hand through the door to your room. Winter slips through the door and into your arms. You pulled close, whispering. "sit," 

Winter obeys your command, parking her bottom down on the floor. You crawled near a window and peeked over the window sill. Counting four men, aimlessly looking everywhere but the front of your cottage. Curiously, you waved a hand at the men when light pass by your window. No reaction whatsoever. Standing up resulted in the same. 

"What the hell?" You said internally, tilting your head to the side. "It's like I'm invisible to them or something,"

"We lost it!" 

"Fuck! Let the dogs loose! Find that bastard!"

"We're not stopping until we find that wolf!"

You stayed in the same spot, bewildered by the truth of events and waved the hunters goodbye. Now onto pressing matters, you brought your attention to Winter sniffing the blood on the floor. You didn't mind the mess since you've helped injured animals in the past. 

"Winter stay," You instruct your dog in a soft tone of voice. Following the tracks, grabbing towels or whatever you could. You didn't own a first aid kit, carrying all the alcohol to clean wounds and equipment used for stitches. The best you can think of is your grandmother's sewing kit and the medical herbs you've collected over the years. Maybe you could crush the weeds you've collected by the river with some medical herbs into a paste and apply them to the wound after stitching it closed. Another option included a knife's blade heated up by a flame.

Finding yourself in your living room. There's a fireplace that you leave burning for warmth and found no wolf. Laying in the pool of his own blood is a naked man, with hair white as the wolf's fur and skin littered with scars. Unlike humans, the stranger has a pair of wolf ears on top of his head and a fluffy tail on his rear. 

Rushing over to his side, you pressed the towels over his wounds after you turned him onto his back. The missing dagger is abandoned by his hand meaning he pulled it out on his own. An idiotic thing to do when you're on the brink of death. 

"This night just keeps getting weirder and weirder," You thought to yourself. 

sanemi visuals

© 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎 — all works belong to astrox! do not plagiarize, recommend, or translate my work without my permission

[astrox]

Chapter 4

— # WARNINGS: none — # PAIRING: katsuki bakugou x fem! chubby reader — # TAGS:@tjmaxx556 @the2ndl @5sos-wdw @juviathewaterwomen @grounderxbellamy @bitchyzombienacho @leeliyah @scoobysnakpak @mommym1lkers @toxic_strawberry @sssleepless @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou

Prior to today, you lived in your father's house alone. For a time, he'd ask a hero to check on you while your pregnancy proceeded. Present Mic and Midnight are whom you've seen the most and considered family. Once a week, they helped you complete schoolwork while taking time away alongside your dad, who bought more work for you to study on. As for Midnight, she's the only woman you've gotten along with. She gave you advice on staying healthy, and all she knew from other women. 

The most you got to see your father is your sixteenth birthday and scheduled checkups with a doctor. Many weeks, he appeared, then disappeared in a blink of an eye, leaving the fridge stocked with whatever you needed. It's hard being in two places at the same time. After you gave birth, it was thoughtful when you were offered an opportunity. Filling out the applications for Recovery girls apprenticeship, you enrolled yourself as a student at UA. 

You were moved into the dormitory when no one was around to witness—not there was much to move into your new room, so it was a piece of cake. Most of the stuff moved into your room were no more than essentials, clothes, Kazu's clothes and food, his crib, and lastly, his toys. 

Kazu grew up in an empty house with no life for nine months. Now he will be around more people than you could count. Maybe—you could open up and make new friends again or not. You've avoided people before and can do it again. Only Katsuki Bakugou knows about you residing in the dormitory and your relation to his teacher.

Your dad walks out, meeting up with your new dorm mates while you stay behind a wall cradling Kazu in your arms. You rocked him side to side, pulling funny faces earning a smile from the infant. You held in a laugh and pecked at his cheeks. Then you playfully rubbed the tip of your noses together.

"Hey, Mr Aizawa, dinner is done!" Ochaco greeted him as she finished setting up the tables. A few others greeted their teacher, gesturing for him to join them at a table. 

The scraggly old man scratched the back of his neck and sighed. "I actually have an announcement to make,"

"Oh, a surprise! is it another field trip! Please let it be another trip!" Mina asked excitedly, bouncing up and down in her seat. Whispers and exclaimed chatter started between one another, and all the girls squealed quietly while the boys laughed. It all ended when a clap from Aizawa brought the volume down.

"It's not a field trip, Ashido." He announced. Mina groans loudly, slumping down into her chair. Bakugou pieced together what his teacher spoke of and spotted a foot poking out behind a corner. He also saw a shadow hanging out behind a wall not far from Aizawa. As their teacher, Aizawa wasn't surprised by his students acting immature—kids will be kids. Looking over his shoulder, he sees a head popping out for a bit of a peep.

It's like playing hide and seek all over again, like when you were five. Aizawa turns around for a moment, and you hide your face behind the wall instantly. Shaking his head, he shuffles back a couple of steps where he can see you. A hand meets your shoulder, mouthing out a couple of reassuring words.

"I can't do this with Kazuko, dad-" You whispered, gesturing to the baby playing with the collar of your shirt. "They'll laugh at me,"

"It will be fine, Y/n trust me. They won't hurt you in any way, shape, or form," Said Aizawa, lifting your head up by your chin. Nodding your head, you kept your head up instead of down. You let out deep breaths in and out, subconsciously patting Kazu's back continuously. "I'm right here,"

"Did he forget we're here, or am I seeing things?" Asked Kaminari, leaning down beside Kirishima. Those sitting at his table moved their attention onto Kaminari. This urged Bakugou to reply when Kirishima's lip separated.

"You can't be seeing things if we're all looking at the same thing, idiot," Bakugou explained, butting in for Kirishima. Of course—curses like that earned Bakugou a little scold from Kirishima, which he brushed off in a snap.

"There's someone I want you all to meet. She's been here for quite a while so go easy on her because she happens to hold a 'surprise'," Aizawa said before he called out your name. You swallowed the hitch in your throat as you slowly crept out of your hiding spot, keeping your baby close, and revealed yourself. Aizawa raises a hand and leaves it on top of your head. Some resemblance was noticed by the students, especially your tired eyes. 

"Introduce yourself," Your father instructed, moving his hand off your head. Shrugging Kazu further up your chest, he started feeling shy in your arms. As you rubbed a hand up and down Kazuko's back, you waved to your father's students.

"Hello," Almost everyone present in the room gasped. You smiled sheepishly and introduced yourself. "My name is Y/N Aizawa, and this is my son Kazuko...I'm the daughter of Eraserhead and your new dormmate."

"WHAT?!" 

As expected, I feel their judgement, You said internally, lips dropping into a frown. Kazu's face hid in your shoulder. That's until your eyes met two familiar faces, Bakugou and Kirishima, both bewildered at the babe in your cradle. Silence filled the room while it smelled delightful because of the food. Aizawa stared down, those whispering beneath their breath, and two students, the class representatives, stood off their seats.

"Care to join us for dinner?" Said Iida, his voice sounding kind and inviting.

"Please feel free to sit with us," Momo smiled warmly, pulling out an empty chair sitting beside her. At her table sat all the girls. They set up the bowl and chopsticks in front of the chair just for you. Your eyes widened in shock, and your jaw dropped slightly. 

"Oh,"

"I'm Momo-"

"I know all your names. Dad would talk about you guys all the time, so thank you for having me," You cut in, chuckling nervously. Aizawa pats your shoulder, drawing your attention to him.

"Go have something to eat," He tells you, pushing you lightly to make you take a step. You shuffled along, following Momo to your seat. It's Mineta, whose voice is heard for a moment, leaning in closer to Sero. 

"Who knew Mr Aizawa had a hottie for a daughter?" Not a second later, Mineta would be hauled off his seat. A flash of red sent shivers down Mineta's spine. Aizawa's hair rose off his shoulders.

"Go near my daughter. You're dead. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,"

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© 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎 — all works belong to astrox! do not plagiarize, recommend, or translate my work without my permission! reblogs are appreciated!