#douma x black reader

[pbees]

Marechi!

[𝙐𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙨! 𝙓 [𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧!]

Part 1 ☆ Part 2 ☆ Part 3!

WARNINGS!;Future parts will contain NSFW content

This part contains

Blood Mentioned

Cutting

Mentions

Innaproptite

/ˌinəˈprōprēət/

"there are penalties for inappropriate behavior”

⏝︶︶⏝︶ ୨୧ ︶⏝︶︶⏝

強くて美しい

He left you alone in the snow with your thoughts and a saliva-coated lip. You were not turned on by what you're assuming is a human-eating monster with blaring communication issues. If anything you were upset he didn't finish the job, who knew when you would get a moment of peace now?

Luckily you knew where the dead guy's house was - as you started to walk back.

The way you were acting confused you, you weren't hit with a panic attack and didn't feel the need to run away screaming when Kokushibo appeared. Maybe it just hasn't hit you yet? You didn't know how long you would be here, and what for so you might as well tidy up.

Not that it seemed Kokushibo would care.

Taking someone's home like this was extremely disrespectful, and cleaning it only made you think back to your home. You had to get back to France somehow- but you were in no condition to travel, especially like this.

Putting the torn mat back in place you sighed. Where in the world was Kokushibo he said he would “Get the animal himself” but was taking forever. No way his massive ass had trouble finding and killing one you thought opening one of the dead man's many closets. Inside there were a couple of kimonos that definitely didn't belong to him, great were they in a murderer who was murdered house?

Sighing which seemed something you were doing a lot more often you pulled out a match and a candle you found out of their cabinets lighting it. You were unsure of how you were gonna get proper clothing seeing as you didn't want to get lost again.

Rekindling the fire you sat back down, you would wait for the six-eyed man- and if you were Luckily you could get some answers out of him.

__________

“ I killed someone just for you Kokushibo- dono don't I get a reward?” Giggled the cult leader. Kokushibo was annoyed with the demon and tried many times to stop him from following, but he wouldn't budge.

“Why would you need a female human's clothes anyway kokushibo- dono, don't tell me you've been delving into crossdressing recently?”

“ You're annoying me, Douma” Kokushibo didn't care for using any titles the demon withheld, he needed to get it through his thick skull he didn't want him bugging him.

Douma giggled again still following him- unwanted the cult leader was curious is all. Kokushibo was carrying a dead animal that he didn't need to eat, AND carrying a woman's clothes?

They were treading their way through the forest back to the House. Kokushibo was a little angry you left the spot he told you to stay in, but it was for the best.

“A House? You've seriously downgraded Kokushibo- your house before was far better than this?” The 6 eyed demon grimaced how the fuck did he no he's never been invited let alone let near the perimeter.

Why hasn't he destroyed his rainbow-eyed skull is simply because Muzan wouldn't enjoy replacing the uppermoon two. He was unbelievably strong surpassing Akaza in less than a decade of being turned.

Opening the door without his permission Douma glided in looking around. He was like a nosey neighborhood what the hell?

Much like Douma Kokushibo was looking around too, not for the same thing, however. Where were you? Finally walking back to the makeshift bed, he made you.

You were dozing off which was unfortunate because he was about to wake you up. He quietly approached you from behind you. You were sitting facing the fire most likely trying to stay warm. Bending slightly over your head he dropped the rabbit in front of you almost laughing as you sprung up. That woke you up, but Douma's nosey ass looking through this house's cabinets didn't?

Rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes you blinked, eyes readjusting you looked up at Kokudhibo staring down at you. Looking at him you remembered his earlier menstruation and quickly looked back down spotting the dead rabbit.

I mean he tried at least?

Refusing to look back up at him whose eyes were boring into your soul you grabbed the rabbit.

“ Wel- before you could get another word in someone walked through the opening in the room. He was tall as well, literally, what are they feeding them? Donning White hair with extremely pale skin the man giggled.

“ Is this what you're so focused on Kokushibo-dono? A foreigner?” he walked closer toward the pair, but not without the intense displeasure of Kokushibo. Squatting down he gave you a once over even going as far as sniffing you before you became nervous again.

Was this another creature much like Kokushibo?

His eyes are magnificent.

Finally finishing his intrusion into your personal space he grabbed your wrist in his hand turning it right-side up so he could see the gains in your wrist. He was cold to the touch causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. It was like the demon completely forgot Kokushibo was there hyperfocused on you. Much like Kokushibo had before he was drooling. Gliding his tongue down the stripe of your wrist he grazed your skin until he made his way back to your wrist biting down.

Blood trickled from your wrist as he continued to greedily lap it up before Kokushibo pulled his head back. Holding him in place Kokushibo drank the blood oozing from your wrist as well to the displeasure of Douma. They weren't verbally communicating at all until the cut stopped bleeding.

Your wrist was wet and sticky as Douma wiped the dry blood they had surprisingly missed off of your wrist pulling back from you.

“ WOAH! I don't know what came over me miss, that was extremely rude of me- especially without and introduction !” he laughed his face flushed as he scratched behind his ear.

Here you thought you finally understood why some 6-eyed creature made you feel jelly and now some white-haired demon was in on it too?

What are they playing at?

A silence running over the three of you.

beady eyes glaring down at you, you gulped your face was heated as you nursed your question the two demons still having a silent conversation.

“You need to eat,” Kokushibo said composing himself. Once again playing off the fact he just went softcore on you again.

“ KOKUSHIBO! - Humans have to cook rabbits first before eating them, and even then they have to be skinned and cleaned.” Douma shook his head at him shame, Shame’.

One pointy finger aimed at the rabbits neck a simple slice at the air and it's neck detached from its already lifeless frame. Recomposing yourself-your wordlessly reached for the rabbit.

Kokushibo got up once again leaving you alone, but this time with the rainbow-eyed demon. His eyes were intently wat thing you.

“What Are you?” The Demon you now know as Douma asked.

“What- what do you mean?”

Sorry I SHORT MAN I HAD TO POST BEFORE FINALS TOOK EVERYTHING OUT OF ME

[lavender-z-love]

Is this Love?

Douma X Black.Fem Reader

Genre: Demon x Demon Slayer, Demon Boyfriend AU, Human X Demon, Angst, Fluff Ig? Yandere x Tsundere? Action?

Warnings: Blood, Mentions of stabby stab (tryna keep it PG.) Yandere themes. SPELLING/ GRAMMAR ERRORS

A/n: I know Douma has a few screws loose, but lets ignore that for now. (This was a request) I've only seen 5 minutes of Demon Slayer but I did some research on homeboy and he is an interesting Antagonist. Also, Ik the powers kinda wack, just work with me here—I'll be doing some revisions too so if something looks different dont be alarmed

Wordcount: 1k-ish? Ill count later.

Part 1: Here ♡

Part 2: (More Yandere stuff. Nun too crazy)

The Heavenly Hashira. That was you title. You were known for your Aerokinesis, tessen abilities. You weren't the strongest nor the weakest, but you could hold yourself astoundingly well compared to the others. There was no denying that the Heavenly Hashira had quite a few deaths of demons on her hands.

The walk through the dark night was silent. A cool and Icy breeze began to pick up, you shivered.. It felt familiar but you just couldn't put your finger on it.

That was until you heard..That voice. "Don't you know its dangerous for a gorgeous woman to be walking around at night...Alone?" You stop in your tracks, eyes scanning the area in attempt to find where he was hiding. Nowhere in your eyesight, meaning he had to be somewhere behind you.

You take a deep, concentrated breath.. Springing into the air, looking below you. Rest assured there he was. Large muscular build, platinum blonde hair—Leaning up against a tree, waving at you, those cold rainbow eyes smile at you.

With your Tessen in hand, You whisper a quick chant before whisking your arm around. Shooting a atmospheric gas in the form of a small cyclone.

The last thing you wanted to do was create a large one and lose control of it. Once the cyclone reaches the demon it combusts.

You gently land, one foot touching the ground before the other. Your eyes glued on the now clouded area due to the combustible cyclone you sent towards him.

To no avail, no damage was done. Of course what would one expect from one of the most dangerous demons. He walked out of the cloud unscathed, still with that apathetic smile on his face.

"Well..Good evening to you too. Y/n", He spoke."

The air getting colder by the minute, amost like tiny miniscule icicles formed in the air. Breathing in was starting to hurt, causing you to breathe more conservatively. "I'm not here to hurt you, Y/n, Let's just chat for a moment", he cooed.

"Talk? I have no desire to speak with you." He lowers his voice, somewhat husky now. Those symbols within his eyes studying you.

"Playing 'hard to get' I see. You're So cold-hearted Y/n.." He smiled, eyebrows following helping him display a flirty expression as he continued pacing forward.

Of course, you walk backwards not wanting to come into contact with him. The ground started to crawl, a force growing quickly at Douma's feet and working their way towards you. Vines created by Ice, growing.

"Just let me say a few things and I'll consider letting you go for a bit.."

"Huh? Letting me—"

The vines shaped into large lotuses, the icy vines capturing you by your wrists. The vines, growing spikes rushing towards you. In a panic, you wave your fans around. Doused in pink aura, your wind slices the Ice lotus. Your wrists now free you turn and leap, hoping to get out the range of the Ice limbs Douma was creating.

Taking your tessen you use them to your advantage, utilizing its ability to give you a jump boost. Not long after the cold air picks up once more. Seeing Douma chase after you swiftly. Chanting then waving your Tessen as you hopped tree branch from tree branch.

"I advise you to Stop Y/n, I promise I won't hurt you", He says evily chuckling. Creating cyclones, tornadoes of all sorts- taking advantage of the freezing clouds Douma was producing. Sending hurricanes of sharpened Icicles right back at him. The frozen mist slowly engulfing you from behind, as you raced back to the others hoping you could lure him back to the others.

Dodging large wintery icicle shards that plummet from above. 'There! The Estate!' It was just at your fingertips, and then...Dragged down from the sky by Lotus vines. "Y/n, I love a good chase...but I really must confess something."

The vines tossing you around, one minute you hang upside down, the next you're thrown and caught upright. The vines wrapped around your waist vigorously. Holding you still for the deadly demon before you.

Pushing away at the vines, only for them to nearly squeeze you to death as a punishment.

"Release me!", you shout. You wriggle your wrist, striving to create some sort of wave strong enough to break the vines.

Douma, appearing so suddenly right in front of you. Face to Face, His hands latching onto your wrists, keeping them at a halt. His long blue nails, grazing your skin— He snatches the Tessen away from you.

"Fun game Y/n.. I thank you, I needed that run."

You stayed quiet, thinking of the things you'd never done yet..preparing yourself to be consumed.

"I wanted to tell you before— seems like..I've come to fancy you."

"...What?" You're neck nearly snapping as you turn to look at the demon. You studied his face, waiting for him to say he was joking of some sort. "You?...You heartless, unemotional psycho- Are you really capable of such emotions? Don't make me laugh", you scoffed. Douma's usual casual smile drops..

"Heartless..Unemotional?..How saddening you've been convinced I have no feelings..However–" ,With your Metal Fans Douma had taken from you, he closes them before bringing them up to your chin. Gently, lifting up your chin to look at him. "Explain to me what these feelings are..I don't think a emotionless being would feel what I am feeling right now."

"That doesn't change the fact the you're psycho-"

Douma gazes at you, his rainbow eyes undressing you in the process. His smile ever so alluring, baring his sharp fangs. "Psycho, I guess so. I'm a psycho for you."

Noticing that you were slowly moving backwards, now with your back to a tree, icy vines that held you captive loosen, not quite unwinding from you. In an instant, pale fingers intertwine with yours. Caging you to the tree. "Join me Y/n, I'll make you happy."

You shocked by his sudden proposal, pulling at your restraints and his hands. "NO!" Wriggling one hand free, you reach behind you grabbing a spare hidden weapon you carried just incase of an emergency. A blade, now shoved through Douma's skull from his chin and up. Warm crimson staining your hand as it drizzles down. Catching him completely by surprise, his eyes widened with shock.

His hand, swiftly yanking out the weapon out of his face. Blood following the weapon once disguarded. Slightly regretting your actions as you watched him turn his attention back to you. Expecting for your life to be cut short then and there, the opposite happened.

His pale hands, blue claws pinning your free hand to the tree. His eyes sparkled in amazement, desplaying admiration for you. "Oh my, such a beautiful and clean piercing."

He leans in, leaning in close to your face. "You really are something. An slayer capturing my heart..how interesting."

"You're not fooling me, let me go or kill me!"

"The last thing I'd want to do Is fool you, let alone kill you", he cooes. The Demon gazing at your lips every now and then, allowing you to catch onto what he wanted. You turned your head away from him. Leaving Douma chuckling, his fangs once again flashing. "Well..That will come in due time." His multicolored eyes scan you,"Hmm..how about you come with me?"

"What?", you question.

"You heard me, I'm. Taking. You. With. Me!" He sings happily.

..'This guy is really insane you through to yourself.' Douma chuckles, holding the fan before you. He opens it, puckering his lips and blowing icy dust into your face.

"As if id go with you willingly–"

Your sentence discontinued by the substance introduced to your lungs. You wheeze with disgust, in attempt to cough up what you ingested. The swiftness of your limbs going numb, followed by sleepiness now taking control.

Douma smiles joyfully as you slouch against the tree now keeping you up. His vines now releasing you as you fall before him. "I do have to admit, while I absolutely adore you fired up..This, Sleepiness suits you well too Love."

Douma kneels down to your level, reaching out to you. He loops one arm around your back and the other below your knees— carrying you Bridal style.

"Stop..l-let me go", your voice sleepily slurred.

"Mm-mm, the both of us have things to discuss. Take a nap in the meantime, okay?" His smile, the last thing your eyes saw before quickly succumbing to the slumber spell placed upon you.

Practically skipping with you in arms Douma heads back to his Resort. The satisfying sound crunching of dead leaves under his feet follow him.

"Don't worry Y/n..You'll come to terms with my feelings— No matter how long it takes. I will make you mine."

Written May 31st, 2023

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

How good are they at doing hair?

Got excited to make this one♡♡♡

Warnings: black reader (will mention different hair textures/styles), humor

Akaza

- is decent with doing hair since in his human life he had experience to comb out hair and put it up in a bun (even tho he dosnt remember who he did it for). Doing your 4c hair wasn't too much a challenge when he just followed what you said to do

- you'd have to remind akaza that it doesn't hurt everytime he combs your hair out. He thinks because he's pulling your hair hard it's gonna hurt you and it was sweet but funny

- "can I twist your hair again? It's quick and easy. it also looks good on you" and "can I take them out for you the next day?"

- twists on you is akazas favorite thing on you and he enjoys doing it

- praises praises, so much praising from akaza when your hair is done

- he threatened a male human to make a bonnet just for you and brought it to you as a gift, blushing like crazy

Douma

- pretty good at it and enjoys doing your hair

- he had to learn over time that he needed to ask before touching your hair and not just play with your curls at random

- douma's favorite thing was wash days. He'd literally get in the shower with you to wash your hair, his favorite part was brushing your wet hair and watching your curls spring back up

- when you explained to douma what a Bonnet was and how you needed one he crafted random hats until he got it right and gave it to you as a gift

- "no y/n don't put your hair in a bun! I love seeing your hair out" and "I'm bored. Can I play with your curls? Pretty please!"

- gets sad when you don't do your hair without him

Kokushibo

- thinks he's good at doing your hair but is actually not

- you'd think kokushibo doesn't pay attention to you when your doing your hair but he actually is

- kokushibo rarely expresses his like for something but whenever your looking at yourself in the mirror he'll stare at you in aw even tho it looks creepy

- "it's quite... beautiful" and "i love it"

- when kokushibo held a afro pick in his hand for the frist time he started using it like a regular comb. Even when you showed him how to use it he kept doing it the same way but in different angles thinking he's doing it right

- as for a bonnet he though putting silk pillowcase would be better for you and less trouble of you did have a bonnet and happen to lose it

Tamayo

- a perfectionist at doing your hair

- definitely the best demon to do your hair, like look at hers!

- Tamayo loves to do flat twists on your hair and put it in a bun at the back just like hers

- "y/n it's time for me to do your hair" and "look, i brought another hair pin to use. I think it would look lovely on you"

- like douma tamayo would feel down if you did your hair instead of her. In general your someone tamayo likes to look after

- Tamayo makes your bonnets, head wraps and any moisturizer your hair would need

Nakime

- not very good but is open to try

- you're the one actually doing nakimes hair all the time by brushing it out and styling it the way she likes it

- nakime would sit down and watch you take sections of your hair and brushing it out using the moisturizer from the aloe plant

- your afro is big and thick. Enough to cover your eyes similar to nakime which is what her more motivated to help you do your hair

- "like this? I need to hear your corrections on what I have to do y/n" and "we both have our hair covering out eyes... Interesting"

- even though nakime is emotionless around the other demons she's shown to be affectionate with you since she manged to get matching bonnets with you

Sekido

- his hair is wavy, your hair is wavy of course he's good but you'd have to beg him to do your hair of you were tired

- absolutely hates when you move your head when he's brushing your hair. If you complained about your tender scalp he'll literally call you names

- "you should be greatul I'm taking time out my day to do this. Say thank you" and "if you keep moving and changing your mind on a hair style I'm going to cut your hair off"

- gets you a bonnet to match the clothes you wear at night. Anything for his precious human even tho he won't tell you that

Aizetsu

- decent at doing your hair but will get sad if he can't help you since you had tighter curls (4b)

- normal black girl things is when your hair just isn't working with you those days so when that day came and you were frustrated Aizetsu offered to help but the brush snapped leaving you in tears and Aizetsu began to cry to because your upset and he felt bad

- you're the one who gets it together and calms the both of you down so when wash your hair Aizetsu puts it up in two buns

"Its like im doing a dolls hair. A pretty doll" And would just have a soft smile on his face which is a rare site to see

- as for a bonnet he went to one of his brothers to get you one since interacting with other humans ment killing right after and he just wasn't in the mood to do so

Karaku

- do not let this man near your hair

- he got a comb stuck in your hair one time and he laughed at you slugging to get it out for 20 minutes. He even tempted you to just cut it out but you got the comb out, the crazy part is you just asked him to make a part on the back of your head

- "y/n do those mini buns again! It looks super cute on you (bantu knots)" and "you can get stuff stuck in my hair and I can try to take it out ahah!"

- That's supposed "bonnet" Karaku brought back for u was just a shower cap. A win is a win

Urogi

- a bully. Like Karaku do not let this man near your locs

- almost gave you a heart attack when you were retwisting your locs and he said he'd pull one out but didn't, laughing crazy at the fear on your face

- "you're taking to longggg C'mon take a break from retwisting and have some fun with me!" And "you're locs are gorgeous on you"

- when he heard "protect your hair" because you needed a bonnet he used some of his feathers that came off easily to make a hat instead of a bonnet. It was a long argument that night leading you to get your own bonnet

Muzan

- Doesn't do your hair. He could but just doesn't

- tells you where to get the stuff you need for your hair because he won't get it

- "you're hair in corn rows is beautiful on you. Wear your hair like that for the next upper moon meeting"

- like kokushibo he just has all your pillows have silk pillowcase on them

- when muzan is in a good mood, he'll bring back accessories to put in your hair

[whysageee]

𓏲 ₊˚๑ ꒰𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈!꒱ ໑‧₊˚.ꪆ

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊‧꒰ა [𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒊 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓] ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

✮𝑭𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

✮𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

˚₊‧꒰ა [𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆] ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𓆩♡𓆪𝑫𝒐𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𓆩♡𓆪𝑺𝒖𝒃 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𓆩♡𓆪𝑫𝒐𝒎 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓

𓆩♡𓆪𝑺𝒖𝒃 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓

𓆩♡𓆪𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇

𓆩♡𓆪𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕

𓆩♡𓆪𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𓆩♡𓆪𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔(𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆)

𓆩♡𓆪𝑬𝒄𝒕.

˚₊‧꒰ა [𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆] ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𐙚𝑺𝒄𝒂𝒕

𐙚𝑽𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒕

𐙚𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒕

𐙚𝑷𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂

˚₊‧꒰ა [𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒔 𝒊 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓] ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

♡𝑴𝑯𝑨 𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝟏𝒂, 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒂 𝒂𝒊𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒎𝒊𝒄, 𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒎, 𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒂 𝒚𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊, 𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒂, 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒖𝒔𝒔𝒚𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒔, 𝒉𝒂𝒘𝒌𝒔, 𝒅𝒂𝒃𝒊, 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒊, 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒂, 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒆, 𝒎𝒓.𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒂𝒖𝒍, 𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒏𝒂𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒂 𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒂𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊, 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒖 𝒃𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒈𝒐𝒖, 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒐 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒊, 𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊 𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒋𝒊𝒌𝒊.

♡𝑲𝑵𝒀(𝑫𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑵 𝑺𝑳𝑨𝒀𝑬𝑹) 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒔, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒔, 𝒆𝒏𝒎𝒖, 𝒌𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒓𝒐, 𝒌𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒚𝒂 𝒖𝒃𝒖𝒚𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒌𝒊, 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒓𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒐𝒌𝒖, 𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒐 𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊, 𝒛𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒖 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒂, 𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒂, 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒚𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝒚𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒊𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒊, 𝒂𝒐𝒊 𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒌𝒊, 𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒛𝒖𝒌𝒂, 𝒎𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒏 𝒌𝒊𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒋𝒊, 𝒏𝒆𝒛𝒖𝒌𝒐 𝒌𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒐, 𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒐, 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒖𝒓𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒐𝒌𝒖,

♡𝑱𝑱𝑲 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝒈𝒐𝒋𝒐, 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖, 𝒚𝒖𝒖𝒋𝒊 𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒊, 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊 𝒛𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏, 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊, 𝒚𝒖𝒖𝒕𝒂 𝒐𝒌𝒌𝒐𝒕𝒔𝒖, 𝒎𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊 𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐, 𝒕𝒐𝒋𝒊 𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐, 𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏, 𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒌𝒖𝒈𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒌𝒊, 𝒎𝒂𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒐, 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒌𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒊.

♡𝑻𝒐𝒌𝒚𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒓𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒐, 𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒓𝒚𝒖𝒈𝒋𝒊, 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊 𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒚𝒂, 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒌𝒊, 𝒓𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒊, 𝒊𝒛𝒂𝒏𝒂 𝒌𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒛𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒚𝒐, ��𝒉𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒚𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒐, 𝒔𝒆𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒖 𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒊, 𝒏𝒂𝒉𝒐𝒚𝒂 𝒌𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒂, 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒚𝒂 𝒌𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒂, 𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒋𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒃𝒂, 𝒉𝒂𝒌𝒌𝒂𝒊 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒃𝒂, 𝒌𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒚𝒂, 𝒌𝒆𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒋𝒊, 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒐, 𝒕𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒌𝒊, 𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒔𝒂 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊, 𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒊, 𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒋𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒎𝒂, 𝒉𝒂𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒌𝒐𝒌𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒊.

♡𝑵𝒂𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒐 𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝟖, 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝟏𝟎, 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝟕, 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒈𝒖𝒚, 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔, 𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊, 𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒖, 𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒖, 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒉𝒂, 𝒔𝒂𝒊, 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒛𝒐 𝒚𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒐.

♡𝑩𝒐𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒎𝒐𝒆𝒈𝒊, 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒃𝒊, 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒖𝒅𝒐𝒏, 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒌𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒖, 𝒌𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒊.

♡𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑿𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑰𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒊 𝒛𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒚𝒄𝒌, 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒂 𝒛𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒚𝒄𝒌, 𝒌𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒌𝒂, 𝒍𝒆𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒐, 𝒈𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒄𝒔𝒔, 𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒄𝒔𝒔, 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒇𝒆𝒓, 𝒇𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏, 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒗𝒂 𝒛𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒚𝒄𝒌.

♡𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 𝒍, 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒓, 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐, 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕, 𝒎𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒖.

♡𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆….

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚!

[dumbdemonslayertexts]

Your Hair: Revealed (anon request)

Pairing: ambiguous AF x black!fem reader

Warnings: 18+, violence, mentions of maiming, murder, and blood

these meetings were irksome. moreover, their complete lack of announcement was something you would normally kill over. but you were sure to wipe any such notion from your head. you were an uppermoon, but your life still was not guaranteed if your thoughts were an irritant to Muzan.

and as you slid open the empty room's shoji, looking around the endless maze of the castle you'd been teleported to, you sighed to yourself. you hadn't had an opportunity to wrap your tresses-- no longer as manageable as they were in your human form. the blood demon art you were gifted had transformed your thick coils into what could only be called an abyss of a thundercloud. it still defied gravity as it flowed behind you, cascading and flowing with physics separate from this world, but now it gave off a perfumed and iridescent plume in its wake. one that constantly floated around your hair's mass and length, and one that it left to hypnotize any mortal that was caught in its scent. you'd lost count of just how many humans gladly allowed you to feed off of them freely, while they nuzzled and caressed, and buried their faces into the sweet plush that was your hair. they begged and pleaded for the opportunity, even. you would have liked to bind it and not have your crown on display so openly to the other ranks. they hardly would show the reverence owed to your beauty.

still, even with your hair in this intimate state: down and billowing behind you, floating and trailing you like the veil of an empress among gods, you carried yourself as you rightfully should. your skin shimmered as though the moon itself worshipped you. your eyes fixed straight ahead, and you paid no mind to hantengu's incessant cowering... you also ignored the rattling you knew to be gyokko's idiotic vases.

"oh! Yonaka-dono~!" your lids shut, and you rolled your eyes behind them at the voice you heard swooning your name. of course, when they opened again, douma was before you with his hands as petals at either side of his face... like some fawning school child. "I've never seen you with your hair loose! ohhh~!"

"urusai."

his fawning came to a stop - as did his reaching hands - at akaza's demand, and you both watched as he passed you. his eyes met yours only briefly, and his scowl only deepened as you lifted a brow at him. douma sighed and sulked away with his fun spoiled, only barely restraining himself from asking you to sit beside him.

you would have declined.

as you did sit, you were met with the sight of purple robing, and then, before you could process that much, six menacing eyes before yours.

"you.. are far too casual."

his voice was more intimidating than usual. you could hear the serpent in his spirit. and your lips quirked. "you wished to be the first to see me in this state? or the only..?"

your jaw was crushed in his grip in the next moment, and you were lifted easily into the air, face to face with the highest rank, but you laughed again. especially seeing the murderous glare akaza bore into kokushibo's head, and hearing the wailing in protest coming from douma.

"i was summoned just as abruptly as you, lord kokushibo, if you are so scandalized... your complaint isn't with me."

he grumbled deeply in response, and released you in the next moment, disappearing to some other corner outsight of your concern.

as your bones healed, you straightened yourself up, dabbing at the blood that had seeped from the corner of your mouth. you made sure to lock gazes with a still snarling akaza as you licked your finger clean... and when he looked away, dropping to a knee and driving his fist into the floor strongly enough for it to crack, you grinned, awaiting Muzan's arrival.

[animeprincessforever]

Any Requests? I’ll love to hear them!

[xxxdegenerate]

Prompts for you

Hello! So i’m trying to better my writing so pick a number and a character from one of these:

One piece

WindBreaker

Black Butler

Demon Slayer

Spiderverse(only the adult ones please!)

Or a few other characters, really depends.

Also describe the number in more detail if you’d like:) (the more details the better)

There will be nsfw, fluff, angst, you name it. Take it as you will.

1. “Come over here and make me.”

2. Wait a minute. Are you jealous?

3. “I almost lost you.”

4. “Wanna bet.”

5. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

6. “Kiss me.”

7. “bend over the desk love”

8. “is that my shirt?”

9. “im going to fuck you until you forget that assholes name”

10. “Looks like we’ll be trapped here for awhile..”

11. “fuck you.” - “when?”

12. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

13. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice.”

14. “I think i’m in love with you and i’m terrified.”

15. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.”

16. “Could he make you feel as good as i do?”

17. “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

18. “you’re pretty.” - “you’re drunk.”

19. “Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”

20. “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”

21. “You heard me. Take it off.”

22. “Wanna dance?”

23. “You did what?!”

24. “If you die i’m going to kill you.”

25. “I fucking hate you.”

26. “He’s dead..again.”

27. “The first time you smiled…I felt complete.”

28. “It hurts..” “What does?” “Loving someone ho doesn’t love you.”

29. “you’re not as funny as you think you are.”

30. “I’m just getting comfy.”

31. “Thank you for being in my life.”

32. “Text me when you’re home.”

33. “Why are you so cold?”

34. “Stop laughing at me.”

35. “You were put on this earth to give me a headache.”

36. “You’re ticklish.”

37. “Can we go home yet.”

38. “You are a terrible influence.”

39. “One of us is clearly smarter then the other.”

40. “You need some sleep.”

41. “I’m only here for the dog.”

42. “In my defense I really wanted too.”

43. “At least I didn’t break any laws.”

44. “I don’t hate you.”

45. “Don’t call me that.”

46. “just marry me already.”

47. “Did i stutter?”

48. “how long have you been standing there.”

49. “i’ve never felt this way before and i’m terrified.”

50. “is there anything you want to tell me.”

51. “Can i hold your hand.”

52. “i’m never leaving..i promise.”

53. “can i kiss you?”

54. “god..i love you.”

55. “stop being so cute.”

56. “do you want me to stay?”

57. “I love seeing you smile.”

58. “I like being close to you. you’re warm.”

59. “I cant enough of you”

60. “This is a one time thing.”

61. “don’t be shy now, sit on my face!”

62. “Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”

63. “ i think i might be in some kind of love with you.”

64. “say you want me, and i’m yours.”

65. “i want to taste you”

66. “I really want to kiss you right now.” “Then do it.”

67. “don’t cover you’re face, i want to see you”

68. “I love you.” “Say it again.”

69. “ive never wanted to fuck someone as badly as i want to fuck you rn”

70. “if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs”

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

Douma + Claude x Fem! Reader Snippet || One's True Nature

So I spun a wheel for a cross fic type of thing. Did it a couple times so if you want to read the others follow and follow my progress.

Anyway, the two characters are obviously Claude Faustus (Black Butler) and Lord Douma (Demon Slayer). I'm having fun with this already.

Think I'll add cross fics to my commission list.

-

Douma + Claude x Reader

What it'll include: Spanking, biting, marking, breeding, dom and sub, choking and maybe a few others.

Goal : 10k words

~

It's been many long years. 

Many years since he was first beaten, destroyed by an archenemies who he had spent so much time on for such a silly reason. Said reason being some brat's soul because who was he without as the creature that he is. 

Claude lurks in the shadows. His form is different now from his previous life though not vastly so. He's of a toned build, with smooth, pearly white skin except for his hands and feet which were made up of claws. His body isn't the only thing that has changed but so has his location. 

These weren't the streets of London, lanterns and art lingered in every which was like a colorful dream as humans below seemed to have a celebration of sorts; drinking alcohol, laughing, and whatever else. 

To be fair, Claude has a hate for it. The loud noises, the colors, but ever since he's come back he's been struggling with a deep hunger, one that he hadn't been forced to deal with previously when he was in Europe, one that seems to lure him into more primal needs and sensations. 

It's annoying, the way that he's never been allowed to show this side of himself, to express his hunger like this… when he had been practically trapped in his last deal. He remembers the days, serving that young brat day in and day out and even with how hungry he was he was forced to stay in control, to tame his needs, just for him to lose control in the end anyway. 

Claude could admit that he didn't regret it, crushing that boy's… Alois’s, head in his strong hands until it seemed to pop like a grape and spill blood all over him. 

Even with how calm Claude presented in many cases back then of course he still had his emotions and when it came to Alois all he could do was feel annoyance, dread, anger… and Claude had put up with it until he simply couldn't. He could also admit that he paid the price, going against his arch enemy… Sebastian, even going out of his way to try and steal the other's demon's prey. His death… as humbling as it was to say, was one that was bound to happen and maybe Claude had done all of that just to end the suffering. As demons as he and others could do was live as they are and with Alois Claude had been needy, starved. What else was he to do but to go after what he could which has been that stupid, idiotic boy… though, here… it seemed different. 

Very different. 

Claude could smell the scents in the air, he's not as strong as he used to be but he seems now that he has the potential to do so now and such much more. 

He was… free. And freedom has never tasted better. 

There's so much food around but as the creature he is, the last thing he wants is a corn dog or poe of some sort… he wants blood, meat… and a lot of it.

One scent in particular seems to jump out at him suddenly and Claude doesn't hesitate to snap his gaze over in the same direction as if to follow such a smell. It's fruity, sweet,... Tempting and Claude feels a rush of heat run through him when he locates the owner. 

She's beautiful, as soft and sweet as she looks and dressed in sine silks. Claude hadn't cared much about the history of this place previously, the scenery, the festivals, the fashion trends but the second his eyes landed on her they stuck. She seems to order herself a snack and as Claude stands from his squat and decides to silently get closer Claude can't help but admire her. It's her sweet face, his soft skin, her feminine figure and if Claude was human his heart would be rushing. 

He is a demon again yes but never had he felt like this and if he had it must've been a feeling that had become long forgotten to him. Never once had he felt quite as… warm and hot like this over some random human woman and he isn't exactly sure what it is that makes him feel so drawn to her but it has him feeling like he was having a hard time keeping control of himself. 

It's interesting how difficult this new life of his was, how different it was from his old one. Never once had he felt a craving like this, with Alois, or even Ciel… it's like he quite literally wants to jump down there and tackle her to the ground, jump on her as if he was some sort of leopard, an animal, a beast and she… some sort of deer, prey. Outside of his rebirth he doesn't know anything about this new life he's been giving but what he does know is that suddenly he feels… hot. He wants this woman and while he still isn't sure what for he's confident in his choice. 

He needed to get closer, if not to know this woman than to touch her… caress her skin with both his hands and his lips and maybe he'd proceed by… keeping her, like some cute little pet at his side. Maybe if she agreed to stay by him and at his side he wouldn't kill her immediately. 

She walks along the streets and he follows like a lingering shadow as he tries to think about the best way to go about this. As she now sits at a bench by herself he settles on the building just behind her, looking down on her with bright eyes. He's still thinking and it's only when his eyes snap aside and land on an approaching figure that Claude feels like he has in fact wasted to much time. 

Whoever this guest was he was tall, broad and Claude could admit that the man's physical appearance was rather… impressive, distracting even. He wears a kimono just as everyone else has and even with such clean and gentle looking garbs Claude can practically smell how strong this male is. It's intimidating and Claude had come to an understanding that in this life demons in fact had ranks. Of course they always had but this was so different, so new and even though another other demon would have probably scurried away, Claude lingered even with the rush of tingles he feels race up his spine. 

He proceeds by watching the two, the only prominent features he's kept from his last life was his bright golden eyes which now watched the two figures. The male greets her, bowing his head to the woman before reaching out to take her hand and with a little giggle she gives it to him after her flashes a charming smile. Claude suddenly feels a bit more… annoyed, his eyes narrowing slightly at the scene because though he knows nothing about either one of these two and probably couldn't care less to do so but something about this guest… this man was reminding him of…

Sebastian. 

It's only then that her laughs rings through the air and Claude clears his mind to focus again only to look down and freeze when bright eyes are looking back up to him. 

A second passes where they stare at each other for a moment and then something seems to burst within Claude's chest. He holds the other demons gaze and the rush of emotion he feels makes him feel both ignited and frantic, as if that the moment their eyes connected with each other had been a deal of some sort all on its own. 

Claude reels back before he can help himself, jerking back and blinking owlishly. There's a rushing in his chest that makes him reach a shaky hand up and clutch his heart. 

Now. What the fuck was that? 

Claude wasn't sure at all but after a moment of silence he finds himself wanting… more. 

It's like something had woke up in him, jerking awake in fury and Claude was s man who would sit here and lie and say that a man couldn't possibly win his heart but the way his was racing in his chest suddenly made him feel many, many things. 

“Do you…happen to come here often?” A smooth and charming voice suddenly rings out over the sea of others and something tells Claude he shouldn't and yet… he decides to peak back over the length and as he thought, the man was now speaking. He looks at the woman with a fond smile, reaching out a hand to her and she giggles softly as she does so, humming as he seems to raise her hand to his lips and lightly brush his soft lips over her knuckles. “I'll admit that I haven't seen you around here much.” He continues and she hums. 

“What's your name pretty? I must know it so I never forget.” He continues as she smiles.

“Y/n. You can just call me y/n.” She answers him and her voice is so soft, so smooth and Claude finds himself leaning in to hear more of it as if he couldn't get enough. The man makes a noise of acknowledgement while Claude personally saves such into in his head and as the man moves to sit beside her, his hip pressing against her own, he finally responds with his own name. 

“You may call me Douma-Sama. Everyone calls me it.” Douma chuckles but something about it sends a shiver running up Claude's spine when he hears it as if the man's name was a curse all on its own. Not only that but… their eyes connected again, his and Douma 's as the other demon looks from the wan to him from the corner of his eyes. 

Douma-Sama. 

It was an interesting name, Claude could give him that but something about the way the man had said it, practically purring it out but each syllable and everything was enough to make Claude's cheeks feel…warm. 

Claude reaches a hand up to inspect his face and soon comes to the realization that he was lightly blushing. His cheeks a light pink and he's spooked into silence, even when he and Sebastian battled as much as they did in his previous life never had Claude allowed himself to blush this easily with the man even when that's what Sebastian clearly wanted out of him. He had always waited until he could get alone where he could be stuck with his thoughts all of his own for as long as needed, and maybe he had many, many fantasies and ones he tended to act up on and wasn't exactly sure what it was but just as Sebastian had, this demon… Douma-Sama, had managed to piqued Claude's interest. 

-

TBC~

- A

[cherrylovvv]

Hello! I haven’t been posting really anything for a while. That’s because of some things that have been happening in my life (seasonal depression anyone?) but now that that’s all cleared up and I’m feeling a lot better, I made a new account that is called “darlingggdearest” you can go follow me on that platform if you like. I’ll be finishing the requests that have been given to me prior, however I’m also going to be moving all of my writing from this account onto my new account. I love you my Cherubs!!!

[pbees]

Marechi!

[𝙐𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙨! 𝙓 [𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧!]

Part 1 ☆ Part 2!

WARNINGS!; future parts will contain Nsfw content!!

This part contains

Face eating //kinda//

Mention of Gore

Kidnapping by default

Need

/nēd/

require (something) because it is essential or very important

⏝︶︶⏝︶ ୨୧ ︶⏝︶︶⏝

強くて美しい

..."

You're still alive..

YOU’RE STILL ALIVE?!

Quickly sitting up you surveyed the scene. You were covered in blankets that seemed to be soiled, but you couldn't complain. There was a fire going in a chimney a little ways away from you- confirming it was a house.

This place smelled horrible.

Surveying your surroundings check! now body check.

Alright for the most part. Your lips were still sore from earlier and your throat stung. For the most part, however, you were fine, all your fingers still intact.

Then suddenly

" Eat"

Bellowed a horrible English accent from the far corner of the room making you jump out of your skin.

There sat a man with-

Six eyes and wine red hair ? I mean besides the eyes he was rather attractive and his clothes didn't do much to hide the muscles underneath. His scary appearance didn't stop you from blurting out a-

" Oh hell what am I looking at?- did

Did I actually die?"

You whined ' Of course it was too good to be true. The creature in the corner didn't enjoy what you said about what he assumed was his appearance he grunted all his eyes narrowed at you.

You gulped quickly shutting up- what did he say do 'Eat? - Where's the food? Looking around again on the floor you spotted the very uncooked meat that had been thrown on a broken plate.

"Yeah I don't think I can eat that- uhm anything else in here you....?" you swallowed your pride and gave the creature a nervous smile. He grunted again before saying what you assumed to be his name.

" It's Kokushibo" he pointed to his chest, he realized you were filling in for his name after. In your defense your Japanese wasn't the best the group translator was previously slaughtered, plus and the same could be said for Kok-ushibo.

Well, not his Japanese, but English.

That begs the question, how does he know you speak English? The group spoke French the whole time- also assuming he's the one that slaughtered them.

Okay, you had to stop too- many questions were approaching your head. Might as well try talking to the Creature again.

" Kokushibo- hmmm- do you Hafe cookied phood?" you motioned to the bleeding plate of pale meat.

Another question- what was he trying to serve you???

He replied back in English even though you were trying your best to speak in Japanese " I Do not"

"Okay, are we gonna speak English or Japanese?" You let out a nervous sigh He gave you a look before replying " English"

"Okay okay- Kokushibo was it? Uhmmm where are we?" Oh gosh the questions are back.

He pointed to the quote on quote ' Food.'

" His House"

He does murder people good good, you're so safe.

" Why am I here Kok-ush-iboo?"

"Kokushibo"

"Kokushibu"

" Gud enough"

You sighed finally deciding to get up. You haven't properly used your feet since you froze a day ago, and your clothes were soiled much like the blanket making you uncomfortable. Clearing his throat he piped up again.

" Come here-

You visibly sweat as you approached the demon. The closer you got the more imposing he looked. Those are skull-crushing hands. Better yet why we're you here talking to him you should be running away right now, but much like before you were frozen as soon as you were arm's distance from him.

Your arm distance.

Reaching his hand out he grabbed your face making you yelp. He inspected your face, not with the intent to crush it luckily- more for studying it. He was a bit taken aback by your even when he first rescued you out of the snow. He only really saved you because your appearance intrigued him. He totally thought you were a demon at first glance but a demon wouldn't beg like you had their limbs would've grown back with no trouble.

There was also the interesting case of your blood. Before you wheezed out a "please" to him he drew his finger across the small drop of blood you left on the snow it's the smell was pungent. Which made him turn your face over by then you had passed out but the blood littering your lips was still there.

Demons didn't have blood that pleased other demons. His original idea was to ask the master about it, but if He didn't know you existed Kokushibo greedily wanted to keep you to himself.

Though much didn't hide from that man.

After checking if you were still breathing he picked you up by the collar of your clothes you were

basically a freeze pop in his hands.

He has to find some way to warm you up the circulation to most of your limbs was disappearing and your heart was on its last beat. Why you were so far out in the woods puzzled him- better yet why you were still alive with such heavy traces of a demon on you.

Seeing a house horribly covered in wisteria flowers, that would do a good job at keeping lesser demons away. They must be been a demon slayer of some kind 'Oh well'.

Making quick work of the Humans inside he sat you down close to the fire they had previously burned. He ate most of the slaughter but left pieces for you on the ground.

" Are we done yet..?" you squeaked out the position was making your back hurt from being bent to suh and angel. He let go of your face and huffed.

" You must eat" He pointed to the raw human. You just gave him a distributed look " I can't eat that ma-youu" you quickly corrected yourself not sure he would enjoy being called anything but his name.

"I don't know how out of date your human book is, but we can't eat Raw food and Especialy Humans at that?" you could not stress that fact enough.

" Then we must get you food so you can stay- healthy "

"Are you trying to fatten me up?"

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing-"

He gave you the nasties glare before standing up- AND HOLY SHIT HES TALL. Maybe your death which your pretty sure actually happened opened up the part of your brain that was a pure idiot because Why aren't you running the fuck away right now?

" if you try to run away I would and could kill you" he adjusted his clothes glaring at you.

"Noted!" Now he can read my thoughts give me a damn break. Walking past you he motioned you to follow him as he made his way through who's ever house this was.

" When I walk you follow - understood?"

"I guess ?" you sighed your confusion was going to make your head explode.

He nodded, the two of you must be fast the sun would be coming up soon.

_

You tried picking up his sword twice with him scowling at you in distaste every time you fell on your ass. He wasn't sure why he's kept you alive, you're no different than any other human wel that's not entirely true actually. There was the topic of your blood, demons survived off of it but flesh also fed the hunger they always have. Your blood seemed to be gleaming when looking at you it's the first thing he smells.

He wants to taste it, but he doesn't want to scare you away- any more than he has at least. He will bring it up later after you've eaten.

It would probably taste even better than it smelled. Thinking about drinking from you made him excited.

“ I’VE GOT IT!” you finally got it off the ground by and inch before you slipped on the snow hitting your face up against the weird eyeball sword. This caused you to bust your lip with a cry. You gave up you weren't gonna attempt to pick it up again.

Sighing you finally looked at Kokushibo- expecting to see the upset scowl from before your soul left your body when you saw him drooling.

His teeth were clenched showing off his canines as he looked down at your frame. You were too afraid to move just like before hyperventilating as he approached you.

“ Ko- before you could finish he grabbed your chin, it was far bigger than your face. Pulling you closer to him you started to tear up.

He's gonna eat me oh gosh he's gonna eat me i knew it- DAMN IT I KNEW-

‘Slurp’

Huh-

He was sucking your lip.

This definitely wasn't eating you- I mean it is but not what you were expecting. He was so engrossed in the act he was ignoring the confusion radiating off you. Your hands grabbed at his Haroi pulling him closer, his teeth scraping the bottom of your lip. Finally pulling away a string of saliva still connecting him to you.

Your hands still held his haori as his hand still caged your face. All six of his eyes gave your face a once over like he didn't suck the life out of you.

“I'll get the animal myself stay here” He started walking off.

“Man, what the fuck just happened?”

____

Not to plot driven this chapter unless you conclude the fact Kokushibo thought reader was a demon☠️

Next part will be a little more spicy, in truth after a certain point I forgot what the hell I was typing a desperately tried to remember.

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!!

I'll typo check later :3

[lavender-z-love]

–Husband!Akaza

–Black.FemReader X Akaza

"H-Hakuji?

One winter evening, you thought you'd been asleep and dreaming. After you heard a knock, you answer the door. Now widowed you didn't expect anyone to be at your home. It was usually the time Hakuji returned to you. But that day, what you'd nerver thought in a million years happened.

Standing in the door frame, the dark silhouette seemed familiar to you. You couldn't make out their face due to your doorway being so dark. Though, when they— or rather He stepped into the light you were shocked. It felt as if your lungs had collapsed.

Your eyes widened as you staggered backwards. Mouth a gaping as your words were lost.

Its not possible, is it? For someone to return— nonetheless with a different appearance?! Maybe you were still grieving? Maybe this was the 'denial' stage of grief? Your husband from the dead.. is now standing in your doorway.

"Don't look at me like that Y/n— Aren't you glad Im back Beloved?" The voice you hadn't heard for weeks comments.

You didn't know what to do..Why is he back? He walked in like he'd never been gone and shut the door behind him. "Beloved? Whats wrong?"

"You—", you stuttered. The sweet face you'd fallen for. His fair skin, now tainted with thick blue markings on his face. His short wavy hair now pink. Those yellow eyes, pink eyelashes throwing you for a loop.

"Hm?" His pink brow raised in confusion to your cut-short sentence.

He takes quick strides to get to you as you stood speechless. His blue fingers reach out to your pulling them up to his lips.

"You okay Y/n?" He bends down a bit to get eye-level with you; as he was taller than you.

"Hakuji—", you hic.

Almost losing your balance, your knees buckle causing you to almost fall. Your husband catching you by the waist, "Woah easy there Y/n!" ,he chortles.

'He's real..He's actually real— I can feel his touch', you think to yourself.

Your hands shaking, feeling his arms, and up his biceps. Hakuji raises a brow, staring at you with confusion. "Hakuji, you're real?"

"Mmm...yes?" He chuckles.

Happy, no...elated your deceased Husband was before you— You'd tackled him to the ground on accident. Your tight hold around him rough you could choke him back to death.

"Y/n, hon?" You eyes and nose running, causing his clothes to be drenched. "Hakuji, I'm really hoping– I'm praying I'm not drunk or you're not a ghost right now."

His arms comforting you, gently rubbing your back. "No honey, I promise I am 100% real. Just a little...different. I hope you aren't disappointed."

"No..I'm happy, So happy."

Akaza smiles,"Im sorry I left you for so long beautiful." He pulls you out of the hug, and looks at you. Seeing your pretty face every morning really made everyday worth living. His fingers wiping away your tears, sharp nails grazing your skin.

"I-It's okay, I'm so glad you're back", you whine.

His eyes..Something so different, yet still the same loving glaze. His eyes..now yellow instead of blue. The marks on his skin, patterns that were new to you. You would look at the marks on his arm, and trance your finger along them.

"Hakuji.."

He gazes at you, humming in response. "Why..why did you come back."

Hakuji's eyes look to the side now, almost as if he tries to think of something to say.

"I was given a second chance..", he admits standing up. Aswell as helping you to your feet. "Start this second chance with me?" He finishes.

"Hakuji, of course." You'd say without thinking, you didn't want to be away from your beloved. Especially after You'd just got him back.

Hakuji walks over to the kitchen counter before picking up your wedding ring. Remembering since you'd technically been widowed there'd been no reason to wear it.

"Honey?" You questioned. Hakuji, returning back to your side. He took your hand sliding the ring on your finger. Just like the day you two became one.

Pulling you in, he held his arm around your waist and the other locking fingers with yours that held the ring.

"Y/n, my sweet and beautiful Y/n..", he mumbled pulling you into a longing kiss. You'd submit complete and immediately almost forgetting what his kisses felt like. Sugary, strong..he was confident~ and so sexy.

When he pulls away he cups your cheek, whispering to you. "Let's do this again hm? But, better this time."

He lures you into a tight hug,"Yes." You say, melting into his arms. There was a silence before he speaks up again.

"Right...before I forget"

"Yes?"

"Just so you dont get confused why others call me something different.."

Hakuji looks at you once more, smiling, ear-to-ear fangs showing. Grazing his bottom lip–

"My name is Akaza darling."

Oof chilie I'll decorate this post when I wake up, I was just wanting to post it !!! Thanks fo reading, hope you liked it :)

[lavandulawrites]

Carcass

Yandere Douma x reader

This is by far the most gory thing I’ve written (or at least posted).

Synopsis: Douma decides to show his love for you in the ways of punishing the woman who has harassed you countlessly.

Masterlist

Warnings: Douma is a warning himself, Douma is horrible in this, abuse (from a woman to reader), gore, violence, demon eating a human, someone gets eaten alive, Douma is head over heels in love with reader, manipulation, obsession, female reader, non of the violence is towards the reader except implied former abuse (not from Douma), Dead Dove: do not eat, let me know if I have missed anything

Word count: 1673

The hall was lit just enough so you could see the silhouettes of its contents. A young woman with long beautiful hair was sitting beside you on the tatami floor. By the door were multiple servants all dressed in white. Their face was turned downwards. The sliding doors slid open. The room froze as the long haired cult leader entered. It was like the air turned to ice and it burned whenever your breathed. Even though it was dark, you could see his jovial grin. His fangs as sharp and threatening as ever.

The woman besides you bowed and you followed after.

The man took a seat on the platform before you. “I am so glad you could come” his smile showing his sharp fangs. He spoke as you had a choice whether or not you would come when the cult leader asked for you. “You may leave us alone” he waved his hand at the servants. They bowed and fled the room silently like white ghosts.

He leaned forward. “What is your name dear?” his gaze was fixed on the woman beside you.

“Yui, sir” she bowed her head.

“Yui… What a beautiful name. Fitting for such a beautiful woman as yourself” his voice sweet, but uncanny.

She smiled and glanced at you with triumph in the corner of your eye. She was clearly happy with gaining the attention of the handsome cult leader.

He shifted his gaze to you. His rainbow eyes scanning your features for something. He hummed when he found what he was looking for.

“Miss Yui, wouldn’t you be so kind as to come up here?” he spoke in his honeyed voice while his eyes were still on you. You swallowed in fear, which caused him to laugh.

Yui rose to her feet and strutted to the platform, looking over her shoulder at you. Her red lips were twisted up into a taunting smile.

Douma patted his one of his crossed legs for her to sit. “You have suck beautiful hair…” he hummed as he held a strand up to his nose and sniffed it. “You see Yui… I have had such an exhausting day” he sighed.

“A person that I am quite fond of won’t respond to my advances” he turned towards her. “Can you believe such a thing? Luckily I have come up with a plan on how to get her closer.”

Yui looked at him with a confused expression, but quickly brushed it off. She smiled at him to continue

You looked down on you hands and knees wishing you could just disappear. Douma noticed your discomfort and laughed.

“Why the long face? Are you perhaps bored?” he tched. “Oh dear… We can’t have that” he shook his head and grinned. “Say what Yui. Why don’t we put on a show to entertain our little audience, hmm?”

Yui nodded. An obnoxious smile plastered on her beautiful face.

“I am so incredibly famished. Aren’t you, Yui?” he sighed dramatically as he looked at her through his long eyelashes.

“I suppose I am…” Yui answered sheepishly.

“Whatever should we do…” Douma sighed as he threw his hand back in an overly dramatic manner. He snapped his head back and raised his pointy finger upwards. “Oh! I have it!” he grinned and looked at Yui.

The black haired woman tilted her head at his sudden outburst.

“Why don’t you… Offer yourself to me?” his eyes beamed with mischief.

“My lord, I am not sure if I follow…” Yui’s voice filed with uncertainty.

Your hands harshly gripped the fabric of your clothing.

Douma must have noticed your movement given his widened smirk, but said nothing. His attention turned back to Yui. His fangs catching the light from the lanterns that hung on the walls. His long fingers gripped her shoulders. The claws of the demon digging into her clothing, almost ripping the fabric. He brought his nose down to her neck and inhaled. “Mmm… You smell heavenly, but not as good as my dearest” he snickered.

Yui gulped at his comment. Her brown eyes flickered to you.

“What is the matter Yui?” he tilted his head.

“N-nothing master…” she muttered with her eyes cast towards the floor.

“I thought so” he grinned. His pale hand moved to her neck and he pulled her closer. His face mere centimetres from hers. Pale blue nails dragged down her face leaving shudders. Douma’s eyes trained on you.

Your nails pressed crescent moons against your palms, your skin almost breaking. “Stop! Please Douma! Don’t do this!” you pleaded. Your voice was hoarse after many hours of not being used.

His smile widened. “You finally decided to grace us with your beautiful voice” his voice soft. His rainbow eyes bottomless as they gazed at you lovingly.

“I can however not stop this. Or rather, I won’t” his smile still as ever present. His pale hand yanked the ravenette’s head back, making her neck strained.

She yelped and instinctively tried to peel his hands away. Her struggles were met with the click of a tongue, which made her stop struggling.

“I am doing this because I love you, [Name]. Don’t ever think anything else” his expression blank save from his eyes which were blown wide and shinning. “I know how she has been treating you. I am just going to… teach her a lesson. That’s all.”

What made him look human before, was all gone. What remained was a monster with fangs and claws ready to tear apart its prey.

“I have been keeping an eye on you, Yui” his voice a low sneer. “My servants have told me how you treat my dear [Name]. Many days I’ve smelled you on her skin and hair. Don’t think her bruises go unnoticed” he leaned closer to her face.

“You are just a worthless piece of shit. You should have known your place and perhaps I would have speared your pathetic life” his jaw was clenched.

“I-I am sorry! I am sorry!” the woman cried as she felt his ice breath on her skin. Her dark eyes found yours as they sent you a silent plea. A plea for you to do anything to stop her death.

“Silence!” his shout uncharacteristic. “I did not give you permission to speak” his hold on her hair tightened.

He free hand wrapped itself around her neck. His nails digging into her skin making small droplets of blood break through it. “Oh how I have waited for this. How I have longed to rip you apart for your sins” with each word that left his mouth, his nails dug into her skin deeper.

She clawed at his hand, but to no avail. She was truly helpless in the grip of a wrathful demon. Blood dripped from her mouth as she watched you with tears in her eyes. You wanted to do something, but you knew it was nothing you could do. If you tried to stop him physically, he would only kill her faster and get more furious. Who knows who else he would then take his anger out on.

Gurgling sounds filled the room as his claws sunk in even deeper. With a giggle he ripped his hand out form her neck. His tongue leaped out and licked his bloodied hand. He sighed in delight. Yui desperately tried to stop the bleeding by pressing her hands on her wound, but the damage was to great. Her fate was sealed the first time she had glared at you.

“H…help…” she wheezed out. The gaping hole in her neck making you wanting to vomit. Veins were fully visible among with tendons. If you looked closely you could see the whiteness of her bones.

Douma pinned her down with a speed no human could possibly possess. He bit down on her shoulder and tore out a mouthful of fabric and flesh. The black haired woman screamed in terror and you thought your eardrums would explode.

“Douma!” you shouted. Your pleas feel on deaf ears as he continued to eat her alive. “Please stop!”

He didn’t spare you a single glance as he continued to tear of chunks of flesh from the screaming woman. His fangs were stained red and his pale skin speckled with blood. Despite the horrendous sight, he was utterly beautiful. It made you truly sick.

Douma’s claws dug into her chest and clutched around her heart. It was a wonder Yui wasn’t dead yet. “I’m feeling rather kind today, so I think we will stop for today” was all he said has he ripped out her heart. Her head fell back revealing her half eaten neck. Douma raised two of his fingers and flicked her forehead causing her head to tear of with a disgusting sound. With a thud it landed on the platform.

The jaws of the demon opened as he but down on her heart. He hummed in delight as he chewed.

You closed your eyes and tried to swallow the bile that threatened to spill from your lips. You cheeks were damp with tears you hadn’t seemed to notice through the horrible act that had happened before you.

“I hate you. I really hate you” you sneered through clenched teeth. You couldn’t bear to look at the pale blond demon as he happily ate the heart of the woman who he had just brutally murdered.

“Mmm… you might say that now, but it won’t be long before you run into my arms” he chuckled. “You are making me feel, [Name]. I would have never thought I would experience love before I met you. So how could I possibly let you go? I love yous i much that it hurts” he looked at with you such earnestness it took you by surprise

A splat sounded behind you as he threw the heart at the wall opposite of him. “I will be waiting my dear. Don’t disappoint me” you could feel his wile smile. Your skin felt as if it swirled up and died.

You truly hated him.

[vrystalius]

Can you please make one where Muzan has this maid he was fond of when he was still human, he'd rest his head on her lap and have her sing to him everytime he couldn't control his temper when he was still human. And bow she's turned into a demon like himmmm

Demon king’s maid

Being Muzan’s maid during his human years made him absolutely smitten for you.

(Muzan x fem!reader, sfw/fluff)

Muzan still remembers the exact feeling of laying his head on your plush thighs while your fingers brush through his black strands. Your skin would feel so warm in contrast to his cold, pale and sickly skin. Your thighs were so soft and squishy and always managed to take his mind off the stupid servants that failed to recreate how he ordered his tea, or his incompetent doctor being lazy and not researching his sickness properly. You are the only person in his estate that did things correctly…

Your singing was the most enchanting thing about you. Your voice, no matter what time or day, always sounded like heaven’s singing to him and only for him. For the duration of your song all his pain would disintegrate, his frustration and anger turning into something similar to happiness and calmness.

But Muzan made peace with never seeing you again.

What a shame that you ran away from him once he became a demon. Muzan would’ve loved to keep you around for longer, maybe even make you his personal demoness-maid. What an honour it would’ve been for you to serve the demon king.

Thousands of years of passed since the last time Muzan saw your enchanting face and felt your touch on his skin. He should’ve caught or at least try to find you. That way, you would had been around for longer. He could’ve savoured your presence, your warmth, your beautiful voice… perhaps he’d even marry you and make you stand right beside him as he demolishes the Ubuyashiki clan an the rest of the Demon Slayer corps.

He’d never thought that if he’d see you again, that he would find you amongst the cultists Douma offered showed off to him. That demon proudly presented you as one of the oldest demons in existence, and oh how happy he is to have you here in the Eternal Paradise Cult. You greet looked different than before, your eyes looked much more tired and scared, your hair a little matted, your delicate skin very dirty, and those robes you’re wearing definitely do not show off the figure you had beneath those sad excuses of clothes.

Muzan bathed you by hand and by himself. He wanted go make sure no other demon even came near you and was able to catch a single glance at your heavenly body. That sight is only reserved for his and his eyes only. His sharp nails grazed over your wet skin as he ran a damp cloth over your shoulders and neck. A small smile rested on his face after Muzan soaked the cloth in the warm water.

“So, you still remember me, hm? Your body tenses when I touch you.” His smile faded away for a moment as he lifted your arm and carefully held it, running the cloth over your soft skin. He felt how your muscles tensed up beneath his touch. A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned down, pressing a kiss on your wrist. Muzan nuzzled into your palm, taking in your perfect features.

“You’ve been hiding from me since day one, after I accidentally turned you.” He planted kisses all over your palm.

“You must’ve been so scared and confused… I am sorry for not being there. But now we can be together, forever. How do you like the idea of you marrying me? If you like, you can continue your… “maid” duties.”

💠

Feels so good to have another ask down! I’m gonna work on them the next few days, I missed it so much! I’ll try to post another fic tonight. Requests are still open!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[peachdues]

Phantasmagoria (Part III)

Tell Me to Stop (Sanemi’s Version)

Sanemi x F!Reader • Modern AU • NSFW

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

Massive TW: grief • loss of a parent • canon character death • drug and alcohol abuse • panic • references to previous attempted S/A • violence between characters • more descriptions of Douma getting his ass kicked (still deserved) • situation requiring a hospital

CW: 25k words. MDNI. explicit sexual content ahead • multiple creampies • oral (f! and m!receiving) • face sitting • swearing • angst with a good ending • non-sexual intimacy

Oh boy. It’s done.

This one is super personal to me, so I really hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for showing this story your love, I adore you all.

Without further ado!

Sanemi’s Playlist

PART ONE • PART TWO

(Sanemi’s POV)

The Party on 52nd Street

Sanemi couldn’t bring himself to say that he regretted how he’d ended up in handcuffs. Sure, his knuckles were bruised to shit and covered in blood that was and was not his, but at least his face was still a hell of a lot prettier than the sniveling, cowardly asshole curled onto his side on the gravel outside his house.

Granted, the severe swelling of Douma’s face was because of Sanemi, but truthfully, he thought it was an improvement. By the time Sanemi had been yanked off of the barely conscious, campus-resident creep, those freakish, multi-colored eyes had been so blackened and swollen, it was a wonder that Douma had even been able to see the cops swarming his living room at all. 

Sanemi knew the only reason his ass wasn’t being thrown into the back of the police cruiser waiting out behind Douma’s hell den was because Tengen had been the one to escort him out. And, because the local police had been itching to bust Douma for his little drug operation for months, Douma had been hauled out as well, handcuffed for good measure (and for insult) by Tengen.

It also helped that Douma was a dumbass, who’d sent the incriminating photos of his assault on Y/N to the groupchat that included all three of Tengen’s partners. Once he was sure they were safely out of view of spectators and witnesses giving statements to the other responding officers inside, Tengen took care to slam the greasy asshole to the ground, getting a few good kicks in as Douma curled pathetically against the asphalt. 

“I will sue your ass,” Douma wheezed as he struggled to catch his breath. Through the purple black swells of his eye sockets, Sanemi could just make out the sliver of jewel-toned irises as they glared in his direction. “The whore fucking wanted it rough.”

Sanemi lunged for the cowering bastard where he lay, ready to stomp the fucker’s face in once and for all, but Tengen roughly threw him back against the side of his cruiser before he could.

“He’s trying to rile you up. Don’t fall for his shit,” Tengen’s magenta eyes were full of warning as he held Sanemi back. “He was stupid enough to send proof of the assault; ain’t no way in hell anyone buys that it was consensual.”

But Sanemi could only see red, the image of Y/N’s tear-streaked and terrified face burned permanently into his brain, worse than any scar that he bore on his skin.

“I don’t give a fuck, it’s working,” Sanemi snarled, struggling against Tengen’s iron-clad grip on him. “I want him fucking dead.”

“Y/N needs you not to be in prison. Don’t you two have something goin’ on?” Tengen shot back hotly. The young cop’s words stilled Sanemi’s struggle against the police cruiser, his fury deflating slightly.

As Kyojuro’s car had jumped the curb in front of the house, both boys agreed to split up once inside the house. Kyojuro was tasked with retrieving Y/N from wherever Akaza had hid her, because Sanemi had viciously vowed that he would be the one dealing with Douma.

And so, he had.

Party attendants had taken one look at Sanemi’s stony face as he’d made his way through the house to the main living room and parted, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of the violence promised in his eyes.

He’d found Douma, standing back near the speakers that crackled with some out-of-date, heavy bass music, laughing like he hadn’t a care in the world. Those monstrous eyes had met Sanemi’s for only a split second, but the delighted malice they beheld was enough to make Sanemi want nothing more than to make the monster bleed.

Douma’s answering smile had been brief, unable to withstand the smash of his fist as the enraged Sanemi knocked him to the ground and lunged to pin him down.

Kyojuro’s car was long gone by the time Sanemi and Douma had been dragged out of that party house of horrors by Tengen in handcuffs, Sanemi smirking at the way Tengen kicked at the whimpering bastard’s feet every few steps. But that meant that Sanemi had no idea how Y/N was even doing – or whether she’d sustained more serious injuries than what Douma had shown off.

He didn’t want to think about what else might have happened in that room. If he did, Douma would surely not survive the impending ride to the police station.

Sanemi knew, however, that Tengen was right, however much it pissed him off. Y/N was the priority here, not him or his righteous, violent fury. He would restrain himself – for her. Nonetheless, Sanemi felt a rush of gratitude for the young cop, who, despite cautioning Sanemi away from ripping the cretin apart once and for all, spat directly on Douma’s bruised, bleeding face.

Half an hour later, and Sanemi was being escorted by his friend through the familiar sliding doors of the police station. It took only five minutes of him speaking with two other detectives before he was strolling leisurely back out of the station and into the small parking lot with Tengen, who offered to drive him back to his apartment.

All it had taken was for Sanemi to whip out his phone to show them the picture Douma had sent of Y/N around for them to agree that the benefit of letting Sanemi go outweighed the burden of booking him; besides, the baggies of Wisteria they’d found on the famous party-thrower meant they’d caught the larger fish anyways.

If it weren’t for the looming threat that Douma had perhaps inflicted far more harm upon Y/N, Sanemi almost would have felt good striding out of the busy police station, but the fact that she might be with Kyojuro at a hospital somewhere, in need of treatment, sat in his gut like an icy stone, tempered only by the murderous rage he still felt.

In his stewing, Sanemi almost didn’t realize that Tengen was speaking to him.

“Look, I’m not sayin’ I don’t get your reasoning. I do,” Tengen said lowly, pausing near his cruiser to face Sanemi, though his eyes scanned the parking lot to ensure unwanted ears weren’t listening in. “Frankly, if I didn’t have my job to worry about, I woulda let you keep going. He deserved it.”

“But I don’t wanna see you falling back into old habits.” The young cop sighed, clapping Sanemi on the back. “You’ve been doing so well.”

Sanemi grimaced. “I’m not,” he bit out darkly. “This wasn’t about me. It was about her.”

Tengen eyed him incredulously but sighed. “It’d do you good to remember that. You can’t work things out with her if I’m haulin’ your ass to prison.”

Sanemi didn’t have the heart to tell him he’d long since fucked up any chances of working things out with Y/N.

----------

“This is the third time you’ve been brought in this month,” the young cop chastised him, crossing an ankle over his knee as he folded his massive arms across his broad chest. “And we’re only two weeks into December.”

Sanemi grimaced as he shifted in the dingy metal seat, his wrists going numb behind his back as the metal of the handcuffs around his wrists dug into his skin. He scrunched his nose, trying to stifle the drop of blood sliding down from his nostril before it could reach his mouth, though without much success.

He was growing more agitated as he waited on his best friend to come collect him – yet again, from the Ubayashiki police station, but Kyojuro had yet to show.

“Listen – Shinazugawa, is it?” The cop had a peculiar shade of silver hair, and a cursory glance-over by Sanemi revealed that he had an apparent penchant for fuschia eyeliner, an almost perfect match to the hue of the discerning eyes which watched him. “You’re a student at Ubaya-U, right?”

Sanemi only nodded, ducking his head down to avoid holding the officer’s gaze for too long, lest he see how dead the nineteen-year-old truly felt.

“My name’s Uzui – Tengen Uzui -- I graudated last year,” the man called Uzui said, somewhat proudly. “So I know you’re a smart kid, but you can’t keep getting hauled in like this. You’ve got too much goin’ for ya.”

Sanemi finally made a sound. “I got nothin’ going for me,” he scoffed, finally lifting his eyes to meet Uzui’s stern face. “Spare me the ‘you’re better than this,’ crap.”

Uzui only rolled his eyes. “Look, kid, whatever happened to you before you got here, you’ve gotta deal with it – but not like this.” Sanemi opened his mouth to snap back, but the young cop paid him no mind, only continuing his lecture. “I’m not gonna ask, because frankly, I don’t care that much. But I know a good kid when I see one, and I don’t think you want to live this way.”

Uzui sighed. “Surely you’ve got someone in your life you wanna do right by? A parent, or a girl, maybe?”

Sanemi’s already sour mood dampened even further. He was about to bite out that no, he had no one, when Kyojuro finally pushed through the doors of the police station, amber eyes scanning the intake area until they narrowed in on him.

And he looked tired. So goddamn tired, that for once, Sanemi felt something other than the numbness he’d felt slowly swallowing him whole over the last three months.

He felt guilty; he’d forgotten, that while he may not have cared about his own stupid actions affected himself, he did care about how they impacted his best friend. Sanemi’s only friend, really, though that was entirely his own fault.

But Sanemi’s guilt could not stop him from checking back out as Kyojuro walked over and spoke in a hushed voice with Uzui, both tossing concerning glances his direction every few minutes. Before he knew it, Uzui was standing and unlocking the handcuffs from around Sanemi’s wrists, the latter’s shoulders relaxing as his arms were released from behind his back.

“I’m letting you off with a warning, but with a condition” Uzui said simply, tossing the handcuffs back onto his desk. The young cop produced a small, white card from his pocket and pressed it into Sanemi’s hand. “I want you checking in with me every couple of weeks. We can do it here, or wherever you want – but it ain’t optional.” Uzui smiled wryly at the baffled look on Sanemi’s face. “Think of it as an unofficial probation. Until you settle down a bit.”

Uzui parted with a shake of Kyojuro’s hand and a wink at Sanemi before sauntering off down one of the adjacent hallways abutting the intake area, leaving the two boys behind.

Sanemi shoved his sore hands into his pockets, barely noticing the stinging in his bleeding knuckles as they chafed against the fabric of his pants.

“I can’t keep doing this for you, Sanemi,” Kyojuro’s voice said quietly from beside him, and Sanemi’s head snapped over to his friend. “You’re destroying yourself. I can’t just sit by and watch it.”

Deep down, Sanemi knew his friend was right, and he was a little afraid that he risked losing the fiery blonde for good, just as he apparently had lost his other best friend, though, it wasn’t like she’d been around after…after he died.

But if Sanemi lost Kyojuro for good, he’d truly have no one left, and so, he fingered the card that Uzui had given him as it sat in his pocket, and resolved he would try; if not for himself, then for the last person on earth who still gave a shit about him.

-----

 Later, the nineteen-year-old managed to stumble his way back to his dorm and he collapsed in his bed, not bothering to nurse his bleeding nose or even change out of his dirty, rumpled clothes. His knuckles stung and his body ached from the scuffle, but he found that he much preferred the throb of the bruises blooming across his body to the deep numbness he felt in his heart.

As he began to slip into a dreamless slumber, a pair of pretty eyes and a sparkling smile that had once filled him with so much warmth flashed through Sanemi’s mind. If he concentrated hard enough, he thought he could just recall the sound of her laugh, though it had been months since he’d last heard it.

He frowned as he tossed and turned in his bed, desperate to throw out thoughts of her, because she tended to disrupt his sleep and to make him feel even lower than he already knew himself to be.

And he didn’t want to think about what Y/N would say if she could see him now.

Though, Sanemi supposed, that would assume she would give enough of a shit about him to have an opinion on him at all.

He winced at the thought, so callous and bitter. He didn’t truly mean to be so cruel to her, even in his thoughts; he knew she didn’t deserve it. Sanemi knew it was his fault things had gotten as bad as they were between them – knew it was because of his piss-poor reaction to her admittedly badly-timed love confession that had driven her away.

After Genya’s death, Sanemi hadn’t much of a heart left that he could claim, but he’d known that whatever of it remained surely belonged to her, just as he always had. So, he’d tried to reach out after his brother’s funeral, during one of those rare moments of clarity when he wasn’t just existing on autopilot, detached from the world around him, but she’d never responded.

Her silence had been slowly needling him to death by a thousand sharp pricks to what remained of his pitiful heart, threatening to whittle it away entirely.

Sanemi imagined himself a pendulum that couldn’t decide whether he was angrier at himself or at her; forever swinging between his shame for lashing out the way he had at the train station and anger with Y/N for thinking his reaction had anything to do with her at all.

He’d never imagined himself worthy of Y/N – his best friend, so beautiful and intelligent and kind-hearted, even though he’d been so stupidly in love with her since they were small children. He’d always been too rough, too scarred, too…much. But he’d hoped, no matter how foolishly so, that perhaps one day, he’d work himself up to being worthy of her, be the reason she smiled and laughed and loved.

But, as Sanemi felt his stomach squeeze uncomfortably at the memory of her tear-streaked face, staring at the platform before the train he’d boarded, he was reminded that one couldn’t be worthy of the person they loved if they insisted on shattering their heart like a piece of glass.

-----

In the absence of semi-regular beatdowns, Sanemi had found other ways of distracting himself from the gnawing pit of despair and loneliness that was swallowing him whole, day by day. At the start of the spring semester, he’d finally hooked up with a girl in his mathematics seminar, and then began sleeping with another a month later. For months, he’d alternated between the two, thankful that neither of them had been interested in pursuing what he could not give them. And he’d enjoyed himself, because yeah, sex felt fucking good, but at the end of each affair, he hadn’t been able to shake the way his stomach clenched with the deep-seated disgust and oily squeeze of guilt.

Guilt, because he’d felt like he’d betrayed her, which was ridiculous considering she wasn’t his even if he’d always been hers; even if he knew, deep in his soul, that he always would be.

-----

A few nights later, he was out grabbing dinner on campus with Mitsuri and Obanai, the two lovebirds happily holding hands the entire evening, when they passed Shinobu crossing the green, ignoring her roommate’s kind greeting.

Though, Sanemi reasoned, she’d likely been trying to avoid having to make eye contact with them, so as to conceal her new black eye. While Sanemi would never raise a hand to a woman himself, that hadn’t stopped him from feeling a small bit of satisfaction at the memory of Makio stalking right up to the petite pharmacology student and nailing her square in the face.

In retrospect, Sanemi didn’t know if it was fair to blame Shinobu for Douma’s actions, but it was clear Makio did. Given the general iciness of the group toward the young woman who’d garnered a reputation for dealing Wisteria around campus, it seemed as though the others did, too.

He’d decided to withhold his feelings towards Y/N’s roommate until she, herself, indicated how she wanted to approach their friendship. It was her call to make, given that she was the one who’d been the target of Douma’s retribution.

Not that Sanemi would know of Y/N’s thoughts on the matter anytime soon; they hadn’t spoken since that morning in his kitchen, and she’d not returned any of his texts or calls in the days since the incident at the party. He knew she likely needed her space, so after the third straight day of no response, he resolved to give it to her.

It was hard to accept her radio silence, because it sent him right back to that feeling he’d had last year when he’d been urgently trying to find her after he’d learned her mother had died, and he feared she would disappear yet again. However, the group was set to go to Tengen’s family’s lake house that weekend for one last summer hoorah before classes began once more, and Kyojuro had already confirmed that Y/N was planning on going.

All of them were, except for Shinobu and Giyuu, according to Mitsuri that night as they ate too-greasy food at their campus grill. The pinkette sheepishly admitted she’d spoken with her roommate the night prior, and both agreed it was probably for the best that she stay behind, especially since Y/N was going. The pair of friends, though they lived together, hadn’t spoken since the Douma incident, either. Giyuu wouldn’t have gone without Shinobu anyways, but he was already out of town visiting his sister and her new husband.

So, Sanemi was left to anxiously anticipate the upcoming weekend. The thought of being at the Uzui lake house with Y/N filled him with both longing and dread, especially because he simply did not know the extent of the harm she’d suffered at the hands of Douma.

He’d known that she and Kyo had talked and worked things out – but Sanemi knew his friend wouldn’t divulge details without her permission, so Sanemi hadn’t tried to ask, wanting to respect both of his best friends’ boundaries.

The not knowing, however, was slowly eating him alive; he’d wanted to kill Douma that night, and truthfully, he thought he still might, if the opportunity presented itself.

Not that he was one to claim moral superiority over the bastard; not when he’d spent the better part of the last two years as one of the direct causes of Y/N’s emotional pain.

-----

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

-----

Kyojuro’s words split Sanemi’s heart clean in half. There had only been one other time in Sanemi’s life when he’d felt the earth beneath his feet split open and swallow him whole, and that had been when his foster mother called him to tell him his little brother was lying in a morgue with a bullet hole in his chest.

But Sanemi found himself free-falling back into the earth’s molten center, and he couldn’t help but think he deserved to burn away inside its fire, because he’d failed yet again to be there for someone he loved.

Tears burned in his eyes as memories of Y/N’s mother flashed vividly through his mind, a slideshow of kindness and love that he’d been so grateful to receive from the young mother in the wake of his parents’ deaths.

For the first few weeks following the Shinazugawa boys’ discharge from the hospital, Mrs. Y/L/N had been a stand-in mother to them both, and they’d clung to her like dew on grass, craving her motherly comfort and assurance in the wake of the violent collision which had killed most of their family.

She’d been the one to apply ointment on his and Genya’s scars every night, her hands so warm and gentle to make up for the light sting of the medicated salve as she dabbed it delicately against their skin. She’d been the one to make their bag lunches for school, always making sure to pack extra for his younger brother, who never seemed to be full no matter how much he ate.

And now, she was gone. And he hadn’t even known she was ill.

That night, Sanemi sat on the floor of his shower and cried.

He cried, because his still-mending heart had been re-broken with the news of the death of the closest thing he’d had to a second mother.

He cried, because he’d failed to be there for someone he loved yet again, and Y/N had shouldered the death of her mother and the burden of planning a funeral without her two childhood best friends to lean on, and that wasn’t fair.

But even through his tears, Sanemi felt his resolve harden. He’d failed to be there for his brother when he needed him most; he’d failed to be a decent friend to Kyojuro, in the months following the younger boy’s death as he reeled from the pain of the loss. But he would not fail again; he swore he would find her and be there for her going forward. He would track her down, and he knew she might curse at and rebel against any offer of help, but he wouldn’t balk; he’d do anything, be anything for her, if it meant ensuring she wouldn’t fall into the infinite void of despair and grief that he had.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d prove himself worthy of being her friend once more.

-----

The Uzui family’s summer house was a sprawling manor that abutted a pristine, turquoise lagoon of a private lake, complete with a secluded beach area and a large section quartered off for bonfires, should the group of college-aged guests decide they were sober enough to light it.

The house itself was three levels, with a basement and a half-loft. The considerable size of the estate meant, plus the fact that several of them would be sharing rooms with their partners – Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma all sharing one with Tengen, and Obanai and Mitsuri sharing another – meant that Kyojuro, Sanemi, and Y/N each got their own private guest room.

Sanemi had no interest in being anywhere near the room with Tengen and his three, equally loud partners once they all retired for bed later that evening, and so, he’d claimed the room on the first floor, located just down the hall from the grand kitchen, decked out in new, state-of-the-art stainless-steel appliances and marbled countertops. Kyojuro and Y/N had both taken separate rooms on the second floor, apparently sure they wouldn’t be bothered by the sounds that were sure to emanate from their host’s room until the wee hours of the morning.

They’d arrived only an hour earlier, barely setting down their bags before everyone began to change into their swimsuits to head for the sun-warmed water before nightfall, the girls eager to work on their tans. Now, as Sanemi strolled alongside the sandy shore of the lake, only Y/N remained on land, lounging out on one of the luxurious beach chairs the Uzuis had installed in a finished seating area about fifty feet from where he stood, gazing out at the group’s newest couple as they splashed in the water.

A pang of jealousy reverberated through his chest as Sanemi watched Y/N’s pink best friend giggle in the arms of her new boyfriend as he swung her around in the shallow of the lake.

Ever since Obanai had finally confessed his feelings – and his fears – to Mitsuri, the two of them had been joined at the hip, the dark-haired boy's eyes perpetually clouded in bliss every time the vibrant girl fluttered her eyelashes at him or pressed against him to whisper softly in his ear before kissing his cheek.

-----

“If you can’t be honest with her, you’re going to lose her,” Sanemi said quietly as the two men stood at the bar, both nursing sodas as they watched the objects of their heart’s desire dance wildly and carefree on the Kizuki dance floor.

Obanai looked over at him, his eyes full of the kind of pain that he’d come to know far too well over the last few years. “Maybe it’s for the best,” he said quietly. “I’m not good enough for her – I don’t want to hurt her.”

Sanemi felt like he was talking to a mirror. “You’re already hurting her,” he took a sip of his ginger ale, though he hardly tasted it. “Cause you’re breaking her heart by staying away.”

The tortured boy’s misery was palpable as he looked back to where Mitsuri danced, lively and carefree.

“You’ll regret it as long as you live if you don’t tell her now.” In his mind, he saw only Y/N’s face as she transformed from the smiling girl of his memory to the cold, numb woman of his present. “Trust me.”

-----

He was happy for them, truly; but he couldn’t deny feeling a little jealous of the couple. After all, they both got to be with the person they loved.

Sanemi knew he had no one to blame but himself, but still; he wished he hadn’t fucked it all up with Y/N.

When Sanemi discovered the speckle of blood on his sheets the morning after he’d first brought Y/N home, he’d barely made it to his bathroom before throwing up.

It was too grotesque – the thought that the Wisteria had made him lose control so badly that he’d made Y/N bleed was too much for him to bear.

But the reality had been far worse than a simple case of lost control under the influence of an experimental drug and alcohol.

Far, far worse.

-----

(Three weeks earlier)

“Oh please, we all fuck each other here,” Mitsuri laughed, and Sanemi rolled his eyes.

The pretty, bubbly girl was unshaken by Sanemi’s terse rejection of her offer to join her and Obanai in the back of Tengen’s Volkswagen van for a “good time.” Though, whether her unflappability was from the drink she nursed in her hand or from an unshakeable confidence, developed over a lifetime of being beautiful and adored, he couldn’t say.

“Well, actually,” the pinkette chewed on her lip for a moment, in thought. “I guess that’s not totally true. Y/N didn’t sleep with anyone until you, Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi’s hand, which had been reaching for his plastic cup full of water, froze mid-air.

“What.” His voice was hard, monotone.

The pink-haired girl was oblivious as she laughed. “Yeah, that’s why Makio called you ‘The Cherry Popper,’ that one night - since, y’know, you were Y/N’s first.”

Sanemi felt his vision tunnel, his heartbeat loud in his ears as it thudded uncomfortably against his chest. Something pressed against his lungs, making it difficult for him to breathe as the weight of Mitsuri’s confession settled over him.

All this time, he thought he’d simply been too rough with Y/N, under the influence of that cursed Wisteria.

But this was worse.

He’d assumed Y/N had already lost her virginity when they slept together. She’d had no hesitance in stripping him of his clothes, had begged him to go hard, and fast.

But now, as Sanemi’s breath came rough, he’d wondered if he’d misinterpreted her screams of pleasure — had they been cries of discomfort?’

Or her nails digging into his back — he’d assumed they were to spur him on, to beg him to go faster, but what if she’d been clawing at him to slow down? To stop?

If he’d known, he’d never would’ve done it — not like that, not when he was so blitzed out of his mind that he couldn’t make sure she received the kindness and gentleness she deserved.

It should’ve been special; she should have known how special she was to him. Instead, he’d fucked her no differently than any other hookup he’d had.

Was he no better than his father?

He’d been so elated that she’d responded to his kiss with enthusiasm, that admittedly, he’d lost his ability to reason. He’d pined for her for so long — years really — that the moment her lips had met his, all rational thought had flown from his head. And his heart had nearly stopped in his chest when she insisted that they keep going, when she’d laid back against his sheets and told him she needed him.

He’d hoped she would’ve felt some of the happiness he had, when she awoke the following morning; he’d hoped that he’d be able to make her breakfast, and then the two of them could talk and he could apologize for every stupid thing he’d done over the last two years. Maybe she would’ve forgiven him. But he’d gone and fucked that all up.

Because when he awoke, all that was left of her was her blood on his sheets.

-----

(Y/N’s POV)

Y/N watched her friends sprint into the shallow of the turquoise lake with a small bit of envy. She wanted, so very badly, to join them, but she’d miscalculated the coverage that her swimsuit afforded her, and to her horror, she’d realized that the mark Douma’d left on her would be on full display the moment she removed the oversized button-down she’d used as a cover-up.

“Y/N! C’mon!” Mitsuri entreated her as her head popped back up from under the surface of the water, her hair tinged a dark pink from the water.

Absentmindedly, her hand raised to the spot where Douma had soiled her and rubbed, the slight pain from her stimulation of the still-healing wound forcing her to remain in the present instead of back in that blasted, dark bedroom.

“I think I’ll work on my tan for now!” Y/N called back, plastering a wide, fake smile on her face to assuage any worry. Not that she needed to, because before Mitsuri could question her further, Obanai snuck up from beneath her and raised her out of the water on his shoulders, the pinkette laugh-screaming as she flailed about to keep herself upright.

A crunch of gravel next to her caused her to tense, because she knew that all of her other friends were accounted for, splashing about in the serene crystal of the lake.

All of them, except for him.

Sanemi said nothing to her as he drew up next to her, though he maintained a respectful distance. He too, watched their friends laugh and play in the water for a moment, his hands shoved in the pockets of his red swim trunks.

Y/N tried to be sneaky as she allowed her eyes to roam the sculpted plains of his exposed torso, marveling at the muscle that seemed to be carved from stone. Since the summer, he’d gained a bit of a tan, his skin now a lustrous nutty gold, that, against the white blonde of his hair, created an attractive contrast that made her mouth water.

God, he was beautiful; it pissed her off.

The tension between them was electric, as neither wanted to be the first to break the silence growing ever louder between them.

“No one will stare, y’know,” Sanemi caved first, though he did not tear his eyes away from where they were fixed resolutely on the horizon beyond the lake. “They all want you to feel comfortable, so they won’t look.”

Y/N was about to snippily ask him why he was butting in on her business, even though her irritation was because he’d read her mood so easily – too damn easily, for that matter. She tilted her head up, readying her venom, but before she could bite, the words died on her tongue.

Sanemi’s tan hadn’t been able to obscure the scars of varying lengths and thickness which crossed his chest, forearms, and half of his face; if anything, his sun-kissed skin only made the silvery, jagged slashes stand out.

As she’d looked up at her former friend, she was reminded that he knew exactly how she felt at that moment – had felt that insecurity, every day, since they were eleven and a drunk driver had slammed into his parent’s station wagon, killing everyone but him and Genya.

I don’t care if you have scars! She’d told him, once. I’ve always thought you were…were..pretty!

She winced at the memory, but painful and intrusive though it was, she still couldn’t find it within her to throw his attempt at reassurance back in his face. Y/N’s heart might have been a lowly, misshapen, shriveled lump, but she still had one.

And besides, she wouldn’t lie to herself; his words had soothed some of her anxieties, damn him.

“Thanks,” she said softly, and she gave him a small, tentative half-smile. She hated the look of hope that flickered to life in his eyes at the sight.

She hated the guilt that sunk into her gut even more.

-----

It was late and she was restless.

Most of the house had already retired for the night; Tengen had disappeared with his three girls, and Obanai and Mitsuri had snuck away back to her guest room, giggling softly, as the pair had been unable to keep their wandering, eager hands to themselves.

Y/N stayed up a little longer with Kyojuro, laughing and talking about everything and nothing as Sanemi lingered awkwardly by the shore of the sprawling lake that sat before the Uzui family’s handsome summer home. By the time Kyojuro had yawned, the moon hung high in the sky, and even the chirping night cicadas had long fallen silent.

She’d hoped that returning to her own guest room – located on second floor of the Uzui home – would trick her brain into thinking she too, was tired; but hours later, she’d realized, grimly, that she’d not be enjoying such luck.

And so, she’d found herself braced over the pristine kitchen sink in the Uzuis’ kitchen, unable to shake the incessant nag of sleeplessness that prickled under her skin.She’d thought herself alone, until a noise over by the entryway caught her attention, her eyes flashing over to see who’d joined her in her restlessness.

Y/N’s stomach roiled at the sight of Sanemi standing there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, as though he too, would rather be anywhere but there at that moment.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Y/N shook her head, busying herself with dumping out her water glass and rinsing it out. “Neither could I, I guess.” An awkward pause ensued, only disrupted by the squeak of the faucet as Y/N wrenched it off to towel off her drinking glass.

“I tried calling you – last week,” Sanemi said carefully, leaning against the door jam, his arms folding loosely across his chest. “But I never got an answer.”

Y/N chewed on her lip, wincing slightly. She didn't want to admit that she hadn’t really returned anyone’s calls, but that was because she’d spent the majority of the week hunched over her toilet, alternating between dripping with sweat and half-freezing to death as she weathered through the brutal withdrawal from Wisteria.

She wasn’t ashamed per se – but admitting she’d gone through withdrawal meant admitting that she’d become reliant enough on it to have a physical reaction to cutting herself off from it, and that meant admitting she was weak.

“I was…dealing with a lot,” she decided after a moment. She realized that she was oddly grateful that Douma’s assault on her had been the catalyst for her stopping her Wisteria misuse, given that it gave her away around talking about the pitiful way she’d spent the last seven days.

Besides, it wasn’t like it was a lie; between puking her guts out, she’d spent a lot of time replaying the events that had led her to Douma’s bedroom, terrified and crying.

“A-and are you – you okay?” He stuttered, fidgeting with the drawstring of his sleep pants, twisting it nervously around his finger.

Y/N exhaled but gave him a half-smile that was almost genuine. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Sanemi continued to shift nervously in the door, as though he wanted to ask her something else, but was warring with whether he should.

Ultimately, he decided to risk it. “Did he -“ Sanemi’s eyes screwed shut, and when he opened them again, he was fixed on a point over her shoulder, as though the question on his tongue was too much for him to risk meeting her eyes.

“Did he… hurt you,” Sanemi hesitated, his voice quieting to a whisper so soft, Y/N had to strain to hear it. “In a way I can’t see?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her gaze softening as the weight of his question settled. “No, Sanemi, he didn’t. I promise.”

Her hand jumped absentmindedly to the faded mark where Douma had bit her and rubbed. “He wanted to, that much was clear, but Hakuji…Hakuji came just in time.”

Sanemi’s shoulders curled inward as he relaxed, and to Y/N’s heartache, she saw him nearly shaking under the weight of his unshed tears. “I’m sorry — I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

Y/N’s eyes hardened, and she let out a sardonic laugh. “That’s what you’re sorry for?”

She shook her head. “Why in the world would you have expected to have been there, Sanemi? You weren’t there any other time I needed you.”

“That’s not-“

“Too bad that’s the only thing you’re apologizing for,” Y/N sighed. “If only you would be sorry for the pain you’ve caused me, not for someone else hurting me.”

Sanemi’s gaze was hard, if not a little weary as he considered her words. “Okay Y/N, you’re right. It’s past time for us to do this,” he walked to the door that led out to the patio area, a little away from the house. He looked back to her, and in response to the eyebrow she had raised in question, he exhaled. “We’ve gotta have it out.”

Y/N did not move from her spot, standing with her back to the stovetop burners, merely crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him, her hip jutting out. “I’m not going anywhere. If you want to do this, we can do it right here.”

“Fine,” Sanemi bit, voice stony as he folded his arms across his chest, matching her stance. “Then go ahead.”

Y/N merely raised an eyebrow at him, keeping her mouth clamped tightly shut. She refused to let him order her around, to let him goad her into being vulnerable after two years of nothing from him.

Sanemi watched her expectantly for a moment before sighing. “I guess I’ll start,” and he rubbed at his tired eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me it was your first time? That night?”

To Y/N’s shock, Sanemi looked genuinely upset, and she despised the way it made her ache. For all her attempts to keep him forever at arm’s length despite her need for him, the first sign of his pain was enough to make her want to fall to her knees.

But she kept her face neutral, disinterested. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I-,” Sanemi hesitated, his fingers curling against his palms, hands forming fists. “You should’ve told me.”

This conversation was nearly impossible to have sober, and for a brief moment, Y/N craved the sweet oblivion of flashing neon lights and pounding music and purple pills.

“It was none of your business,” Y/N decided, fingers toying with the ends of her hair as she avoided his gaze. “It was my decision.”

Sanemi opened his mouth as though to argue with her, but she cut him off. “God, this is so like you, isn’t it?”

Her fists clenched, and the anger she’d so carefully kept tucked away inside her began to bubble over. “Is it some weird male possessive thing? You fucked me, so now you think you have some kind of claim to me?”

“I care about you, you idiot, and I thought I’d hurt you,” Sanemi replied hotly. “If I’d’ve known, I wouldn’t have done it at all.”

“It’s not about you caring for me,” Y/N snapped. “Admit it — you feel entitled to me.” You’ve always felt entitled to my affections, ever since we were kids.”

Her leg began to bounce with her irritation. “You’d get huffy if I showed the slightest bit of affection to any other boy — don’t try to deny it. You’d cross your arms and get all broody and it fooled no one.”

Y/N laughed, though it was without humor. “You’re a possessive, jealous asshole, who keeps me around because I stoke your ego. You can’t tell me you never thought, not even once, that I had feelings for you.” Y/N’s eyes burned with angry tears.

“Of course I thought it,” Sanemi shot back. “You think I was that fucking blind?” He cracked his knuckles, an anxious tic he’d had since they were small. “You think I didn’t see the way you looked at me, like I was your goddamn favorite person? How could I ignore that?”

Sanemi shook his head. “Did you ever stop to think, for one moment, that maybe I didn’t say shit because I knew — have always known — that I’m not fuckin’ good enough for you? You’ve always been the smartest out of the three of us, Y/N — but did that thought ever cross that pretty head of yours?”

“That’s such a bullshit fucking reason,” Y/N said, exasperated. “Spare me the ‘I’m not good enough for you’ crap, Sanemi. This isn’t a fucking novel,” Y/N ground her toe into the expensive, stone tile of the Uzui’s kitchen floor in frustration. “Because for all your talk, nothing changes the very simple fact that you cut me off like it was fucking nothing. Like I was nothing.”

Sanemi’s jaw went slack as he gaped at her. “Is that how you remember it?”

-----

“Though, I guess it would’ve been hard to know it was you, anyways.”

-----

(Nine Months Earlier)

As he lazily strolled to his next class, Sanemi’s eyes casually roamed amongst the faces of fellow students as they brushed by him, heading in the opposite direction, when something caught his attention. Or rather, someone.

That someone was a wisp of a person, hunched over and curled into themselves like a wounded animal. From the cursory glance he gave them, Sanemi could see that the student was one, a girl, around his age, and two, looked as though she was about to blow away in the brisk, November wind.

He almost passed her without another thought, when her eyes lifted briefly and collided with his, and Sanemi felt his stomach drop, though he couldn’t explain why. Perhaps the flip in his gut had to do with the deep-set shadows beneath the girl’s glassy eyes, or the heavy hollow of her cheeks, as if she’d not known rest or a decent meal for months.

As quickly as her eyes met his, they lowered again, and the girl brushed past him. Sanemi kept walking for a few steps, content to let all memory of the girl fall into the recesses of his mind.

But her eyes. Something about her eyes made his mind snag, pulled at something in his chest that urged him to stop, turn around, and go back to her.

He stopped; he stopped, in the middle of the crosswalk, though the light was quickly ticking down the seconds he had to finish crossing the busy intersection, because he knew those eyes, even if, to his horror, he hadn’t recognized the face, so worn and thin under the crushing weight of her grief.

He knew those eyes, because he’d spent his entire life loving them.

Sanemi whipped around, eyes frantically scanning the dissipating crowd of students in search of her once more. Though his next class was in the opposite direction, he sprinted back across the street to where she’d been walking, calling her name as he darted in and around scowling students, annoyed at the panic-stricken man calling a name that wasn’t theirs.

He felt the burn of his frustrated and desperate tears begin to sting his eyes as he realized, to his torment, that Y/N had evaded him once more, vanishing like smoke in the wind.

Sanemi felt the familiar howl of crippling, raging despair gathering like a violent sea wave in the midst of a storm within him rearing its ugly head to smash him to bits against the rocky shore of his anguish at the realization that Y/N hadn’t just lost her mother.

She’d been suffering. For months.

And he hadn’t known; hadn’t been there for her to lean on, to make sure that she wasn’t bearing the entirety of the weight of a sick parent by herself, only a nineteen-year-old girl. So stuck in his own grief over Genya he’d been that he hadn’t known the depths of Y/N’s endless distress.

He’d abandoned her, and now, the woman he loved was a shell of her former self; a living ghost, forever out of his reach despite always haunting the corners of his shredded heart.

Any thought of his upcoming class faded from his mind as he began to stumble towards Kyojuro’s apartment, desperate to share the news with someone, anyone, who would understand the depth of his despair, and Sanemi broke down into tears.

-----

“And where have you been hidin’ all this time?”

“I’ve been right here.”

“Nah, you haven’t.”

-----

(Six Months Earlier)

“It’s been months, Sanemi, and we haven’t caught so much as a whisper of her,” Kyojuro’s voice was heavy with resignation as the blonde looked pleadingly at his best friend.

The muscles in Sanemi’s forearms flexed as his grip on his phone tightened while he fiddled with it. “We haven’t looked everywhere – have we tried the Pillars?” Sanemi began searching the address for the nearby apartment complex where over two-thirds of the Ubaya-U upperclassmen student body resided.

Kyojuro shook his head. “The Pillars house over two thousand units – we can’t just start going door to door. We’d look insane.”

But the silver-haired man didn’t reply as his eyes narrowed at his screen. “I’ll bet most of the students are in the same building – most residents don’t wanna put up with a bunch of noisy, drunk college kids.”

Kyojuro only looked at his friend in pity. “Maybe she doesn’t want to be found, Sanemi. Not by us, at least.”

Sanemi finally looked up from his screen and cringed at the docility in his friend’s eyes. “What do you suggest we do, Kyo?” He tossed his phone on his kitchen table in annoyance. “Just give up? D’you really think it’s best to just leave her by herself?”

“You don’t know for certain whether she is alone, though,” Kyojuro countered. “She might’ve found her own group here. Maybe she already has support. Maybe she doesn’t need us anymore.”

Kyojuro’s words hit something soft within him that he hadn’t realized had been left unguarded. For deep down, one of Sanemi’s many fears had always been that Y/N would one day outgrow him, though he’d always maintained that he wouldn’t hold her back should the day come.

But that wasn’t what happened; Sanemi had checked out after Genya’s death, and had only snapped back into reality a few weeks before the news of Mrs. Y/L/N’s passing had reached his ears, threatening to send him back to that dark, lonely island amidst the never-ending sea of his grief.

All he wanted was to make sure Y/N hadn’t been marooned on her own isle. As long as she had someone, then Sanemi could accept that he’d fucked over any chance he’d had of remaining in her life, in any capacity.

But until then…

“We don’t know for sure,” Sanemi said hoarsely, leaning back in his kitchen chair, the worn wood creaking slightly under his weight. “And until we do, I ain’t risking her being left alone to deal with this.”

Kyojuro looked at him with such pity and sorrow that it made him want to squirm. Refusing to meet his friend’s fiery, discerning gaze, Sanemi reached to pluck his phone from the table once more, scrolling through his phone contacts list, scanning the names.

“D’you think she might still be in contact with her old roommate?” He asked though it was more of a rhetorical question, given that he’d already begun drafting a message. “I’ve gotta catch my train here in an hour – but we could always try texting her.”

-----

“D’you really think I didn’t try to find you?”

-----

(Three Months Earlier)

“Three – you’re dating three women?” Sanemi asked, equal parts stunned and impressed.

The suave, silver-haired man nodded, a dreamy grin spreading wide across his handsome face. “Sure am,” Tengen produced a sleek black phone from the pocket of his joggers, and opened his social media profile to search a username. “Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru. They’re all seniors at Ubaya-U, and roommates.” Tengen wiggled his eyebrows. “Which makes life very convenient for me,”

Sanemi met Kyojuro’s ochre stare as Tengen scrolled, as though waiting for his friend to call bullshit on the young detective’s brag, but the blonde only nodded.

“Hold on, they all went out with a few friends the other night, and I think Suma uploaded a pic with all of ‘em,” Tengen’s eyes narrowed in on what Sanemi assumed was the girl’s profile, scanning. “Aha! Here,” he held his phone out for the two boys to inspect, a proud, smug smile etched into his handsome face.

The photo was of five girls, three of whom Tengen identified as “his girls.” One of the remaining smiles was that which belonged to a girl with curious pink and green hair, wearing what could only be described as rave attire, given that most of her considerable body was exposed, even under the dim light of the club. As for the remaining girl --.

Sanemi’s stomach dropped as he looked closer at the image on Tengen’s phone. For there, sandwiched between the pink girl and one of Tengen’s partners, was the girl who’d held Sanemi’s heart since the day they’d met in preschool.

Y/N.

Only, she didn’t look like herself, not really. The sultry smile she gave the camera didn’t quite reach her eyes, which held that hollow, deadened look of someone who’d long since lost their will to live; who’d long since stopped caring they had.

Sanemi was only able to tear his eyes away from the image of Y/N’s frozen not-smile when Kyojuro pressed his elbow into his gut. He looked back to Tengen, who watched him with an odd expression, and sheepishly, Sanemi realized he’d snatched the phone right from the young detective’s hand.

“Sorry,” he muttered, handing Tengen back his cell. “I’m just surprised. It’s been a minute since we last saw her.”

“Who?” Tengen frowned, looking back at the photo, before recognition lit his eyes. “Oh! You mean Y/L/N? You two know her?”

Sanemi found it difficult to speak, so Kyojuro answered for him. “We grew up together back home. We haven’t really seen or heard from her in a while,”

Tengen hummed disinterestedly, apparently aloof to the way Kyo’s voice had cracked. “I’ve met her a few times – Suma dotes on her.” He smiled as he clicked off his phone, leaning back in the booth. “She’s been over to the girls’ place a few times before, and she seems pretty cool; kind of a party girl, though.”

Sanemi gaped at him, finally finding his voice. “She’s a what?”

Tengen shrugged. “Yeah, one time I met up with their friend group at one of the clubs downtown – the Kizuki Lounge, I think? – anyways, she and Makio decided to have a drink-off, and it ended with my ass having to carry them both out to the car and drive ‘em home.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. “They argued the whole drive back about who won.”

Both Kyojuro and Sanemi sat in dumb silence as the silver-haired man leaned in, his voice lower than it had been. “One of their friends – she wasn’t in that picture just now – but apparently she’s some sort of chemistry whiz. Made a new drug that’s like ecstasy, but lasts longer and has an easier come down.” A conspiratorial smile spread across his face, a devious light in his eyes as he whispered, “The girls swear it helped give them the most intense orgasms of their life. I kinda wanna try it out for myself.”

Tengen leaned back and winked. “Are either of you interested? Even if you don’t want it, you should try hitting up the Kizuki every now and again. Most of Ubaya-U’s student body goes to party there during the summer, and they tend to offer decent deals on drinks.”

Sanemi had frequented bars, but never clubs, and Kyojuro rarely found himself in either. However, if Tengen’s comments about Y/N were to be believed, it was more than likely she was a regular patron of the local joint. She’d managed to evade every other attempt to get in touch with her, but perhaps meeting her on her turf would give him the opening he’d been desperately holding out for.

And Sanemi wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to find out.

He took a swig of his coffee before setting it down, meeting Tengen’s stare evenly, though he fought to conceal the way his hands trembled. “What are you doing this Friday?”

-----

“I looked for you – everywhere, I looked for you.” Sanemi promised, his voice trembling as he pled with her. “Y/N, I knew what you were going through – I know what it’s like --,” his eyes begged her to just listen, but she couldn’t, not when she’d spent so long staying so silent.

“You have no idea!” Y/N burst, and for the first time in two years, she spoke of the night her world had ended, even though for everyone else, it kept spinning.

“I was alone when she died! It was just me in that hospital room,” Her tears flowed in a steady stream down her face, though her voice remained steady and sharp. “I was moving her hand over my hair because I knew I would never again get to feel her stroke my head whenever I was sad or stressed. It was so fucking late, and I was so tired, but I felt something shift, and I looked at her and watched her take her last fucking breath, Sanemi!”

Y/N ‘s hands wrung in her grief. “I had to call the nursing attendant and tell them – even though I could barely speak, I had to tell them my Mama stopped breathing.”  As she spoke, she saw only the image of her mother in that damn bed, still and pale, and her mother but no longer.

“And do you know what happened next? They told me I needed to leave and sign fucking paperwork,” She laughed, derisively, though she only cried harder. “I had to sign fucking release forms and then they just – told me goodnight. I walked to my car. Alone. I drove home. Alone. Without her.”

“I was with you when you found out about Genya – we made sure you weren’t alone! But me? Who was there for me?” Y/N was sobbing into her hands, her shoulders shaking with the weight of all the bitter loneliness she’d been forced to endure over the last two years. “Where were you?”

“Y/N, I get it, I do –,” Sanemi began but Y/N shook her head.

“No, Sanemi, you don’t understand!” Her voice was no longer angry, but pleading, begging him – anyone – to understand just how much she’d been struggling and for how long. “Every night when I close my eyes, I see her, lying there. I hear the beep of her oxygen monitor going haywire because she wasn’t breathing, and I see her take her final breath. Every night, over and over, and I just want it to stop.”

Y/N slumped back against the kitchen counter, exhausted and defeated. “You asked me where I’ve been the last two years, and you were right – I haven’t been here; because I’m still there –in that hospital room. I never left.”

Her sobs finally quieted beneath the press of her hand to her mouth as she tried to stifle the hysterical way her breath struggled to catch. “And I don’t think I will ever leave. It’s been two years, Sanemi, and I’m still sitting there, right where I lost everything.”

“So yeah, I was desperate for an escape. Because, that next day, I woke up, and for some reason, morning, still came, even though my Mom would never again see another sunrise, and even though my world had been obliterated,” Y/N’s voice quieted to a near whisper, her voice hoarse from her tears. “And everybody else just moved on. I wanted to pretend that I had, too, even if only for a little while.”

“I was alone,” Y/N cried softly into her hands. “I’m still alone.”

When Sanemi spoke, his voice was rough and cracked. “I know I left you alone then,” but for some reason, his validation didn’t soothe her the way it had with Kyojuro. “But you’re not alone now – I tried, so hard, Y/N, to find you and make sure you were okay, and I failed,” His eyes shone with his own unshed tears. “I refuse to leave you alone, now. I know that probably pisses you off, but I can’t – I can’t leave you, not when I know --,”

“It’s too late,” Y/N interjected, lifting her head up to meet his eyes. “You can’t just waltz back into my life and decide you care now, not after all this time.”

“It was never about me not caring,” Sanemi sat down in the seat opposite from her, his head braced between his hands as his fingers tugged at his hair in frustration. “I don’t get why you can’t understand that.”

She gaped at him. “You stopped talking to me because I said I was in love with you – I fully understand that it was piss-poor fucking timing on my part, but you tossed me aside like garbage.”

Sanemi’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “You think that’s why I stopped talking to you?” And suddenly, devastation pulled at his face as his shoulders sagged. “Y/N – that was never the reason --,”

“What other reason was there, Sanemi?” Her tears had dried, but the gnawing ache in her chest only deepened at the look of his despair, because, angry as she was with him, she would never wish him to be in as much pain as he appeared to be in right then. “Even if you weren’t really that angry, it doesn’t change the fact that you stopped speaking to me because of it,”

“Y/N – that’s not –,” Sanemi began, but Y/N wanted no part of it, and she could tell they were only gearing up for another fight. She opened her mouth, ready to unleash all of her acidic, biting remarks about how comfortable Sanemi had been to use her, knowing that she was probably still in love with him, when he spoke once more.

“You aren’t the only one who has been grieving.” Sanemi’s words hit her with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs, and the fight from her blood.

“I lost the last person I could call ‘family,’ too, Y/N.” Sanemi spoke with a brokenness that she knew only she recognized as grief – boundless and all-consuming. “I failed as your friend, that’s true,” Sanemi’s voice quieted to a whisper. “But I failed as a brother, first.”

-----

(November, 2 months after Genya’s death)

Sanemi laughed as the enraged bar patron’s fist slammed into his nose. The blow wasn’t hard enough to break the bone, given his intoxication, but it was enough for Sanemi to taste the blood as it dripped into his mouth.

“You’re fucking crazy,” the man spat, stumbling slightly.

Sanemi’s grin only widened. “I bet your wife would like some crazy in her life. You look as dull as a sack of shi-,” his taunt was cut off as the man landed another sharp to his gut, the breath wheezing out of him as Sanemi felt something inside him crack.

Probably another rib, he groused, gritting his teeth slightly. Just down the darkened alley, Sanemi could see people slowing down, watching as the balding drunkard threw lazy and disjointed punches at the bloodied, laughing man, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the cops were called. And Sanemi, to his annoyance, had promised Kyojuro he would try to stop needing the blonde to bail his ass out of jail every other week. He hadn’t known why he’d made such an inane promise to his best friend in the first place; it wasn’t as if he mattered.

Because the days following Genya’s death had blurred into weeks, which bled into months. For Sanemi, life became marked by the amount of time that had passed since he’d become the only Shinazugawa left on earth.

Since he’d last been someone’s brother.

Two days. Twenty-three. A month. Four months. Nine. A year.

Life post-Genya was a series of blurs; droplets of water on a page that smeared ink into something vaguely recognizable, but ultimately rendered useless.

Just like him.

For so long, his identity had revolved around being Genya’s big brother — his Aniki, as the boy had affectionately called him.

Could one still be an older sibling when they had no sibling left?

Genya had been Sanemi’s pride and joy. He’d been eager to get settled into college, to get his own place so Genya wouldn’t have to share a bunk bed with other kids the state had squeezed into their foster home. He’d lined up jobs to ensure he could buy Genya whatever food he wanted, whenever he wanted it, because Genya was always hungry, and their foster parents had never seemed to have enough to go around.

But then, Genya had wound up dead, and Sanemi hadn’t even been there to protect him. What kind of big brother was he, if he couldn’t even be counted on to be there when his little brother needed him the most?

He didn’t even get to say goodbye. He’d left his brother only a couple of weeks prior, with a promise to come and visit him as soon as he could. Genya had tried his hardest to stifle his tears, but despite his brother’s somewhat hardened appearance, thanks to the scar that cut across his face, Sanemi knew Genya was a sensitive boy, prone to wearing his heart on his sleeve. So the elder Shinazugawa had pulled his brother in tight, ruffled his hair, and told him he’d see him soon.

It had been a lie; the next time Sanemi saw Genya, the fourteen-year-old was a body on a metal table, awaiting Sanemi’s approval to be sent to a funeral home for burial preparations.

And so, the days passed in one, monotonous, never-ending cycle. Wake up; stare at the ceiling; force himself to eat, shower, and go to class. Then, Sanemi would grab his fake ID, head to a bar, take a few shots of some burning, acidic liquid, and then identify the meanest, biggest thug in the joint and pick a fight. He’d let himself get beaten to a bloody pulp and then he’d limp his way home, barely making it to his bed before passing out in the sweet stupefaction of oblivion.

Occasionally, he’d wonder why on earth he was the one who was left alive; why fate had demanded Genya’s life and not his, because Genya had so much more to offer the world than he did.

After all, Genya hadn’t even picked the fight between the two boys from their old foster home, and he’d still ended up dead.

The time never seemed to stop even though his little brother’s heart had; and with each passing day, Sanemi felt himself growing number and number. As the pulsing ache between Sanemi’s ribs dulled, he mused that, with every moment that passed, he was growing closer to becoming just like the little brother who now slept six feet under the frozen ground of the cemetery plot that also now housed their parents and other siblings.

Nothing more than a corpse.

If only it had been him.

It should have been him.

-----

“After Genya died I —,” Sanemi hesitated. “I wasn’t a good person, Y/N. You didn’t need to see me like that.” He ran a hand down his face, his weariness a heavy shadow beneath his eyes. “I’m honestly surprised Kyo stuck through it as long as he did.”

“I fucked up, I know that.” He admitted, his eyes shining with his own unshed tears. “I was an asshole to you, and I could’ve done more,”

Sanemi’s voice dropped to a whisper. “But I needed you, too. And you vanished. You told me you loved me and then you vanished. And it was like losing another person I loved all over again, and I’d barely started mourning Genya.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop to the floor and her vision tunnel. The weight of Sanemi’s words slammed into her with cataclysmic force, and she shot out a steadying hand against the counter to keep her knees from buckling.

She remembered now, the point at which she’d fucked it all up; and he was right.

Y/N had felt abandoned by her friends, but she’d forgotten that it was she who distanced herself from Sanemi first; that she’d done so to protect her own stupid pride and heartache after his apparent rejection of her love. She’d evaded him first, because she’d assumed that was what he wanted, even though he’d tried texting her once. She’d neglected to consider that perhaps, his ignorance of her hadn’t anything to do with his anger that she’d dared to confess; that perhaps, his neglect of her had been part of a general disconnect from the world, in the wake of it taking yet another person he loved away.

At the time, Y/N hadn’t understood what it meant to grieve; hadn’t been able to comprehend the ways in which it could engulf someone like a wildfire before they could ever see the smoke.  

He’s dealing with a lot right now, Kyojuro had told her, sternly. But perhaps Kyojuro’s admonition hadn’t been that at all; perhaps it had been a tired, desperate effort to remind her that Sanemi’s introversion from the world had nothing to do with her at all.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N gasped, her hands shaking. “I didn’t realize – I just knew I felt alone. All I wanted was you, Sanemi. I didn’t care how. I just wanted my friend.” This time, Y/N did not try and steady her voice as the tears welled up in her eyes. “I needed you — I needed my ‘Nemi. But you weren’t there – I-I didn’t think-,”

“I promise you, I wanted to make it right. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did at the train station,” Sanemi gave a great sniff, lifting his head to meet her eyes. “When I snapped out of it, I tried so hard to find you by then, it was too late; you were gone,” His tears fell fast and hot down his face. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”

“I failed you; I know that --,”

But the girl shook her head, collapsing back against the kitchen counter. “We failed each other.” She wiped her cheeks, her arms winding tight around her middle as she tried to hold herself together even though the weight of the words that followed threatened to tear her apart at the seam for good. “And I don’t know how to fix this – how to fix us.”

Sanemi leaned back against the table, opposite her. “Maybe we can’t…maybe we can never go back to the way things were.”

Even as he said it, Y/N’s heart seized. She knew he was right, but she wanted so very badly to believe he was wrong; wanted to believe there was still a them to salvage.

“That doesn’t change how I feel about us,” Sanemi continued. “And that doesn’t mean we can't try to make something new.”

His words, so brutally honest and yet hopeful, tugged at the bleeding, mangled pieces of her heart. For the first time since they’d reunited, Y/N felt as though she could finally see him – all of him – and he broke her heart, and not for the reasons she thought he had before. The remnants of her heart ached for him because he looked just as broken and lost as she was, and she realized that perhaps, they hadn’t meant to hurt one another. Perhaps, they’d both been merely victims of their own grief.

All Y/N knew was that she was tired, so very tired of running from him, especially when he’d always been inevitable. And she wanted, more than anything, to ease some of the burden that she’d failed to notice he’d been struggling to carry, too consumed by her own grief and pain and rage.

Sanemi’s stare was weary as she slid off the counter and approached him timidly, hesitating just once before winding her arms around his neck and kissing him, gently.

She kissed him because she did not know what else she could do at that moment. There were no words she could say, no promises she could offer him, other than this small act of physical comfort.

Sanemi kissed her back, soft, though the hand on her face felt more like an effort to restrain himself from going any further. Y/N’s suspicions were confirmed when he broke away from her lips, panting slightly, and moved when she tried to reconnect them.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he murmured, apologetically. “We’re both all worked up.”

Y/N opened her eyes and peered up at him, nodding. He was right; of course, he was right, but his rejection stung anyways.

He must have sensed it, for he pressed his lips tightly against her forehead, his thumb stroking her cheek. “Let’s just take some time, okay?”

Her lips trembled with the effort to keep herself from crying once more, but she nodded, nonetheless. Briefly, Sanemi’s lips brushed her forehead once more, before he pulled away, and silently retreated to his bedroom, leaving Y/N in the dim light of the kitchen.

-----

The next day and a half passed without event, and Y/N was grateful for it. She’d managed to smile and laugh with Mitsuri and Kyojuro, and goofed around with Tengen’s beautiful girlfriends, but her heart remained heavy in her chest.

Though, it wasn’t an unwelcome weight, even if it made her uncomfortable at times. The fallout from hers and Sanemi’s talk two nights earlier had been both the final knife to her blackening heart and its bandage, and she’d been left to work through the complex tapestry of her feelings towards the man who’d held her heart before she’d even known she’d given it to him.

Such thoughts, however, had not quieted. It was just after midnight when Y/N gave up on trying to sleep. The house was too large and too quiet, and it made the thoughts in her head all the louder and sleep all the more evasive.

With a sigh, she kicked free of her blankets and rose, padding out of her temporary bedroom and into the dark, silent hall of the Uzui lake house. Trust that Tengen, of all people, would come from a family that not only had a summer house, but one large enough that each of her friends had been afforded their own private bedroom for their short weekend.

Clad in only a pair of black boy-shorts and a matching, cropped tank, Y/N clandestinely made her way down towards the large staircase which led to the first floor, but paused before beginning her descent, as she remembered that Sanemi’s room was on the first floor – just before the kitchen.

He’d wanted space, and she’d given it to him. Over the last two days, the pair hardly spoke to one another except for, when necessary, by virtue of the group’s activities under the sun. It hadn’t been out of any malice or anger, not like before. Rather, it seemed that their mutual avoidance of one another had been born out of a curious shyness that had bloomed between them, as both worked through the snarled tangles of their hearts.

If she went to the kitchen, as planned, there was a chance she’d wake him, and even if every fiber of her body missed him, the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of his loss of sleep – at least, more so than she’d apparently already had been.

On the other hand, she was thirsty, and there was a restlessness buzzing beneath her skin that would not quiet, that hadn’t quieted since she’d given up those treacherous lilac pills.

Y/N decided to take her chances, resolving not to turn on any of the stair lights or the light in the kitchen, instead navigating only by the dim light of her phone as she eased her way down the polished wood stairs. She held her breath as she slipped past the door that led to Sanemi’s room, as though the very sound would risk disturbing the handsome man slumbering within.

Once in the kitchen, Y/N blindly felt around for the cupboard containing sparkling glasses and managed to fill one with water without making a great deal of sound. Using the light of her phone screen, she managed to hop up onto the cool, marbled countertop and leaned back against the cabinets as she nursed her drink.

For the last two nights, sleep had evaded Y/N because of the way Sanemi’s words had played, over and over her head, a never-ending tape that showcased her own selfishness on a loop.

You aren’t the only one who has been grieving, he’d told her, brokenly.

He was right, and she was horrible.

For as long as she could remember, Y/N had always feared being selfish. She didn’t know where the deep-seated aversion to looking after he own self-interest had come from, but it was one that was so deeply ingrained within her that she’d long since stopped trying to overcome it. Instead, she’d found herself always trying to do the best for other people, desperately trying not to put herself over her loved ones, for fear they would leave her the instant she did.

When she’d found out her mother was going to die, she’d been left by the doctor to break the devastating news as her beloved mother lay in that hospital bed, fighting so hard to keep her oxygen levels up so that she could get out. Her mother had been asking Y/N to describe all of the autumnal decorations she’d seen go up in town, as though the prospect of seeing fake leaf garlands and pumpkins would be enough to make her lungs work properly once more.

For as long as she lived, she would never forget the broken disbelief in her mother’s eyes as Y/N had tearfully told her she would not live to see the end of the week.

“I thought I had more time,” her mother had wheezed, brokenly, clasping Y/N’s hand as tightly as she could with her dwindling strength.

She’d looked so scared, so lost, and what had Y/N done?

Y/N had cried; sobbed and had been utterly unable to stop. Her mother had needed comfort, and she hadn’t been able to toughen up and stop crying.

I’m sorry, Mama, she’d bawled, I can’t stop crying, I’m so sorry.

Her mother, with tears in her own eyes, had only shaken her head. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

As though it were her fault she was dying; as though Y/N didn’t know that if death were a matter of will, her mother would be here, on earth, with her still.  

In her mother’s most desperate moment, Y/N had been utterly incapable of providing comfort, instead needing to be comforted, like the child she’d been. It was despicable; she was despicable.

To her horror, she’d been nothing but selfish. So, so very selfish, for being unable to check her emotions when it mattered most. And her mother had barely been conscious after that final conversation, which meant Y/N hadn’t been able to apologize for making her mother comfort her in her hour of greatest need. But Y/N had added that great regret to the list of things that would likely haunt her for the rest of her life, hopeful that maybe its presence on her list of regret would serve as a warning for her in the future.

It hadn’t; because Y/N had fallen right back into the sticky trap of her own selfishness and had failed to account for all the ways in which Sanemi had been suffering, right alongside her.

Worse, she’d relished his suffering because she’d thought she’d been the cause of it, and it had felt so damn good to finally get him back for the two years of hell she’d endured, never realizing that he’d been burning, too.

They’d been victims of a shitty hand dealt to them both, but too young and too stupid to be able to see the world outside of their own heads. And now, she had no idea where things stood between them.

Deep in thought, Y/N did not sense the shift in the air that signaled another was stirring until the kitchen light flipped on, and Y/N’s head shot up to see the person she’d most wanted to both see and avoid.

Sanemi looked just as surprised to see her, perched on the kitchen counter. His hand still lingered on the light switch, and his eyes were wide. He seemed to realize he’d been staring, and he quickly looked down to his feet, the faintest trace of red crossing his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Y/N huffed a watery chuckle, wiping quickly at the tears that clung to her cheeks. “Neither could I – just a little restless, I guess.”

There was so much she wanted to say, and yet, she couldn’t think of a single word to speak, as he continued to hover by the light switch, uncertainty turning his muscles rigid. An awkward silence ensued as Y/N gave a great sniff and tried, but failed, to fake an ‘everything is fine’ smile.

Not that she would’ve been able to fool him anyway, but still, she mused, it would’ve been nice to try.

“I’m sorry – I’ll go back to my room,” She put her water glass down by her side and braced her hands against the edge of the counter to hop down, but remembered that she was still only in her underwear. It was foolish, she knew, to feel suddenly self-conscious being so exposed in front of him, given that Sanemi had spent the entire summer exploring every nook and cranny of her body with his mouth and hands, but the emotions of the weekend still weighed heavily on her – made her feel vulnerable.

Especially under the microscope of his burning stare.

Sanemi didn’t respond, nor did he comment on her failure to move off the counter. Instead, he only continued to watch her as she wiped at her cheeks, that fathomless heat and longing and hurt in his stare.

“I’ve always hated seeing you cry,” he finally murmured, and Y/N was surprised to see that he had inched closer to where she sat, perched on the kitchen counter.

A door was opening, and Y/N found herself wondering if she should walk through it or remain here, where the line between them was tenuous, but a line nonetheless; safe, and capable of being enforced, if she needed to run.

Y/N recalled a conversation they’d had about Mitsuri and Obanai before the pair had begun dating – back when they, too, had been chained to their own doubts of the other’s sincerity.

They should let themselves try, he’d quietly insisted.

She’d rebuked his words, only to find herself eat crow later; Mitsuri and Obanai had let themselves try, and now they were together, mending and growing as one instead of as two.

Maybe they could try, too.

“But why?” Y/N pressed, because though she’d decided at that moment to walk through that door with no reservations, she still wanted to hear him say it; wanted an explanation, after all these months.

“You know why,” was his only reply, his voice growing hoarse as he drew up within an arm’s reach of her.

Y/N shook her head again, but Sanemi did not stop; his hands boxed her in on the counter, one thick forearm coming to brace on either side of the kitchen counter, thumbs just grazing her thighs.

“You know why,” he insisted.

Y/N finally lifted her eyes to his, the last wavering thread of her resolve dissolving as she beheld the timid, pleading sincerity in his stare.

She exhaled, softly, but she did not move away from him.

“Then show me.”

She’d never seen Sanemi look so shy as he lifted one hand to cup her delicately under the chin. As he leaned in close, Y/N felt a curious tingle in her stomach that only grew in its intensity as his lips – so warm and soft – brushed against hers.

It was butterflies, Y/N realized as her eyes closed, that she’d felt fluttering in her stomach as Sanemi kissed her, because it was everything their first kiss should have been. It was not rough and sticky from mixed drinks and being pressed against dirty club walls in the dark, like the act itself was a shameful secret driven only by lust.

It was gentle, and soft, like the first fall of snowflakes against her cheeks. It was warm like a summer breeze, gently messing the tendrils of her hair against her bare shoulders, as it caressed her skin and promised precious moments of levity and of peace.

Sanemi’s lips moved against hers, still so gentle, and Y/N felt not just the love she’d come to accept he held for her, but also his hope, as tentative and uncertain and yet as eager, as a newborn fawn taking its first shaking steps in the spring.

It was everything; he was everything.

Their kiss grew more heated as they both grew more desperate to consume one another, the desire to make up for all the time lost between them morphing into a base need, as though their minds knew they needed the other to help put themselves back together again; to make themselves whole.

Sanemi’s hands found the sliver of skin exposed between the top of her underwear and the bottom of her tank top, and Y/N moaned, her legs wrapping around his hips to lock her closer to him as she let Sanemi engulf her in his strong, sturdy arms.

He lifted her effortlessly from the counter, his lips never leaving hers, and he began to walk them toward his bedroom. As Y/N’s legs wrapped eagerly around his waist, and her fingers tightened their grip in his hair, she found herself grateful that his room was just around the corner.

His tongue danced slowly with hers as he nudged the door to his room open with his foot and blindly pushed it shut once they were safely inside.

Sanemi’s lips dropped to her neck as he carried her to his bed, laying her out beneath him as his hands skimmed under her tank top, rough fingertips gliding up the sides of her bare waist until his palms rested against her breasts, rolling the mounds between his hands until she was moaning into his mouth, her wetness gathering quickly in her underwear as Sanemi pressed his groin against hers and rolled.

He made quick work of discarding her sleeping top, his mouth closing around one of her nipples as he gave it a hard suck, his hand cupping the other to roll her stiffening nipple between his fingers with a surety that had her whining and tugging at his hair, begging him for more.

Y/N’s fingers clawed at his back, eager to tear his t-shirt from his back so that her hands could greedily roam the stony ridges of his back, his chest. Sanemi groaned as she raked her nails across his shoulders, and he nipped her breast in response for making his way down to where her underwear struggled to conceal her arousal from him.

His tongue grazed over the thin scrap of fabric that separated her bare cunt from his waiting mouth and he groaned, his fingers digging into the sides of her thighs. “I can taste you through your damn panties,” he growled, his eyes dark as they lifted up to her face, flushed bright pink as she watched him slowly drag his tongue up her clothed slit. “Are you that needy for me already, baby?”

Sanemi withdrew himself from between her legs, and Y/N thought she’d fall apart at the loss of his warmth above her. Any protestations she had bubbling in her throat, however, died, as Sanemi shoved his sweatpants down his legs, his thick length springing forth and bouncing against his navel.

No matter how many times she’d seen it, the sight of his cock, long and with considerable girth, with a pretty, mushroom-like tip that grew an angry red the longer he went without stimulation, never failed to make her mouth go dry.

“Let me take care of you, sweet girl,” he cooed, slowly kneeling before where she laid sprawled on his bed as his hands smoothed up her thighs to the bottom of her underwear. Gently, his fingers curled under the fabric and began to slide them down the length of her legs, until he’d pulled them away from her feet.

Before he returned to her, he balled the discarded cloth in his hand and brought it to his nose, eyes closing as he inhaled deeply the scent of her arousal, a soft growl reverberating from the back of his throat as he opened his eyes, amethyst irises full of heady want for her.

“Fuck, I’ve missed that,” he said quietly, his movements slow, teasing, as he knelt on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, as he settled between her thighs.

Y/N huffed a shaky laugh. “It’s been two weeks, you nymphomaniac,” though she nearly gulped at way his eyes darkened as he exhaled softly along her glistening, throbbing core.  

Sanemi sat back from her, eyes roaming her bare body as he considered her words. “You’re right, it’s been two weeks,” he said evenly, as his hands slide under backside, lifting her up to work himself under her until she was perched on his abdomen, its rocky ridges brushing deliciously against her bare folds.

“W-what are you -!” Y/N’s question was cut off as Sanemi’s broad, warm hands gripped under her thighs and hauled her up his torso, bringing her to hover just above his face as he settled beneath her.

“It’s been too long,” Sanemi grunted, his voice like gravel with his desire. “I need this. I need you.”

His strength had always greatly outmatched her own, but Y/N did not try to struggle as he lowered her bare cunt onto his mouth, his hands braced on her hips as he pushed her full weight down onto his face, groaning loudly as her essence enveloped him.

Sanemi’s head had spent a great deal of time between her thighs since the start of the summer, and yet this was somehow far more intimate.

Intimate, because she was utterly helpless as he held her throbbing core flush against his face, his arms caged tightly around her thighs, prohibiting her from moving away even if she’d wanted to do so, as he devoured her.

From beneath her, Sanemi let out a deep groan as his tongue sank between her folds and began lapping at her. Sanemi’s expert tongue wove in and out of her folds, periodically grazing over her entrance with such teasing fervor that Y/N felt her lower abdominal muscles seize, and she could not stop her hips as she began to grind into his mouth, her head tossed back.

A sharp prick against her inner thigh had Y/N’s eyes flying open as she looked down, surprised to see Sanemi licking the inside of her thigh where he’d nipped her. Even in the dark, Y/N could see the moonlight reflecting off his lavender irises he held her gaze, the hands around her thighs tightening and Sanemi slid his hot, silken tongue into her opening.

Y/N’s responding moan was loud, wanton, her head falling back as her hips ground down into his mouth as she began to ride his tongue. Below her, Sanemi groaned, his laps and sucks at her most sensitive area growing louder as he greedily slurped her juices.

Y/N began to feel that coil deep in her stomach grow tighter as her clit began to pulse and throb against Sanemi’s relentless tongue and lips. One hand slid under her to play with her entrance, his rough fingers circling her opening, sliding into her until his first knuckle before withdrawing, teasing her as her hips bucked wildly against his face, as she grew more desperate for him to fill her.

“Sanemi – p-please,” Y/N begged as his deft fingers avoided sinking into her spasming heat once more, a small scream of frustration tearing from her throat as he continued to tease her.

Though her white-haired lover was prone to continue teasing her, the grip around her thighs tightened as Sanemi pressed her harder against his face, his tongue thrusting in and out of her as his teeth grazed her aching bead over and over. Y/N’s cries grew louder, closer together, as the rough stubble of his jaw scraped against her sensitive flesh.

It was too much; with a sharp cry, Y/N’s thighs seized around Sanemi’s head as she felt a rush of her juices gush out of her, coating his face. The vibrations from Sanemi’s groans of satisfaction intensified the ripple of pleasure that rocked through her, and Y/N could not stop herself from grinding even harder against him in a desperate attempt to prolong her release.

Y/N fought to keep herself upright as she bucked against his face, but the sensation had become too much, and she found herself falling back against his legs. Sanemi didn’t seem to mind, his arms remaining tightly locked around her lower hips as he continued to rock his face against her core, her thighs shuddering around his head at the scrape of his stubbled jaw against her heated, sensitive flesh.

She turned her head and was surprised to see how close Sanemi’s cock was to her face, standing thick and tall as it bounced proudly against his abdomen with every flex of his stomach muscles and thighs as he continued to eat her out like she was his final meal.

Y/N’s lips went dry as her eyes took in the leaking, red tip of him, so demanding and eager, and yet he’d been utterly content to ignore his own need in favor of satisfying hers.

She struggled against his iron-like grip on her hips, trying desperately to turn so she could take him fully into her mouth, but he was too lost in her cunt to realize she wasn’t trying to get away; she wanted him, wanted to pleasure him as must as he insisted on pleasing her.

“Sanemi,” she whined, trying to turn once more, but his arms only tightened around her, a growl of warning reverberating from his chest.

Straining, Y/N leaned as close as she could to his aching cock and stuck her tongue out, just managing to graze the side of it before she had to pull away.

It was enough. At the first caress of her wet tongue against him, she felt Sanemi freeze beneath her, his tongue momentarily pausing mid-thrust into her core as he realized what she was trying to do.

“Fuck this,” he muttered, finally tearing himself away from her lovingly abused cunt and throwing her off him to the side, her breasts bouncing as she settled against the mattress. “I need you – now.”  

Sanemi covered her body with his own, her legs falling to the side with practiced ease as she accommodated his hips. Despite his gruff words, Sanemi bent down to kiss her softly, his lips warm and gentle, as one hand rose to caress her cheek. Y/N locked her arms around his neck, happily sighing into his mouth as his tongue slid between her lips to stroke hers, each caress making the fire in her lower belly burn hotter and more urgent.

Sanemi shifted, keeping one hand on her face as the other moved to grip him at his base, aligning himself with her entrance. His eyes flitted back up to hers one more time, seeking her permission, and it made Y/N’s heart seize. Even after more than two months of sleeping with her, he still insisted on ensuring he had her approval.

Had she been able to form a coherent sentence, she would have begged him to take her, but she’d long since lost her ability to speak thanks to Sanemi’s skilled hands and mouth, and so, she only rolled her hips towards his impatiently, whimpering with her need.

Sanemi groaned in response and the hot, flared tip of his aching cock pushed into her. Ordinarily, Sanemi took his time working his way inside her, given his considerable size and girth; but, thanks to the way he’d insisted she ride his face, Y/N’s core had become impossibly slick that Sanemi sunk into her molten heat in a single, fluid motion, not stopping until his base was pressed flush against hers.

A hitched breath blew past Sanemi’s lips as he buried his face into the crook of his neck. He locked one arm around her upper back, the other encircling her thigh to hold her open for him as he began to rock into her, sloppily and hurried, as though he were getting lost in the feeling of her tight, soaking heat as she clenched around him.

“S-Sanemi!” Y/N gasped, her fingers burying themselves into the pale cornsilk of his hair as she tugged, eliciting a deep groan from the Adonis that ground into her from above with abandon.

Y/N’s hips moved of their own accord as she desperately sought to meet his frenzied thrusts, circling and pushing against him as Sanemi’s cock hit that spot within her that made her toes curl and her stomach dip. She was as wanton and desperate as he was, though the harder she moved against him, the more needy she became.

She needed him to be closer; so much closer.

“’Nemi,” she cried, begging him though she did not know what she begged for, as she moved her hands from his hair to rake her nails down his back, needing him to do something, anything to bring her closer -.

Sanemi locked a steely arm around her middle and in one fluid motion, flipped them, bringing Y/N atop him.

Both groaned in unison as the new position allowed Sanemi to reach even deeper within her, and Y/N felt nearly intoxicated by the sensation of being filled and stretched to her limit. Sanemi’s hands braced at her waist as he began to help her roll her hips against his, his head falling back as his eyes fell shut in bliss, a deep moan falling from his mouth.

Tears stung Y/N’s eyes as she ground against him because she understood what his actions meant even if he’d not uttered a word.

Sanemi Shinazugawa said he’d never let anyone ride him.

But he wanted to be hers.

So, with an unfamiliar yet welcome warmth spreading through her chest, Y/N began move, her hips softly rolling and grinding against his as she braced her hands against his rocky abdomen, fingers digging in slightly as she tilted her head back and moaned his name, loud and unrestrained.

“Nemi,” Y/N gasped, her hips rising and falling and grinding against him with a fervor beyond her control, as she could not get enough of how it felt to fuck herself on him. “Am I — ah — doing this right?”

A loud groan from deep in Sanemi’s chest was her only answer, as her lover lifted his head from where it’d been thrown back against his pillow as he basked in the feeling of Y/N’s silky cavern milking him for all he was worth.

 “Baby, I don’t think you could do wrong if you tried,” he grunted, his voice trembling with his unbounded desire.

She was inclined to agree, because god, even after months of being fucked by him, none of those previous encounters could compare to the way he was making her feel right then, his warm, sturdy hands braced on her hips as he helped guide her up and down his hot, steely length, the room filling with the sound of their skin clapping as she bounced and ground against him.

Y/N’s hands found his at her waist and she pulled them away, in favor of tightly interlocking their fingers as she increased her pace, bringing herself up off his cock before dropping her hips back down again for a needy grind, her walls fluttering around him with each push and pull against him.

She fell forward slightly, pressing the back of his hands down into the mattress and holding them there, just over his head, their fingers tightly interlocked together. She shifted, so that she could brace a little of her weight into him, pressing them even harder into the soft bed as she increased her pace, rolling into him faster as she circled her hips around him.

With his hands pinned above his head, and his eyes squeezed tightly shut as a needy moan echoed from his throat, Y/N swore she’d never seen sight more beautiful than that of Sanemi completely at her mercy.

“I want to finish like this,” Sanemi’s voice had an uncharacteristic desperation in it that bordered on begging, he threw his head back harder against his pillow, the tendons in his neck tensing as he groaned unrestrainedly for her. “Please, Y/N –,”

She only ground down against him harder, his pleas choking off in his throat as his fingers dug harder into her hips. “Sh-i-it,” Sanemi groaned out, his hips thrusting wildly up into her, so lost in just how deep he could reach within her vice-like, silky heat.

Guided by pure instinct, Y/N released his hands and sat up, her own drifting behind her as she began to fondle his swollen, heavy balls while she continued the relentless pull and drop of her hips up and down his throbbing cock.

“Fuck!” Sanemi bucked harshly up into her, his head pressing harder against the pillow beneath him as the muscles in his neck strained, his eyes falling shut in his bliss. One of his hands found its way to her lower abdomen, pressing down slightly so she could feel him pressing against the front wall of her core, Y/N’s voice cracking as she moaned. His other hand lowered to where they were connected, and he began to swirl his thumb around her aching clit, his ministrations causing the walls of her cunt to pulse and constrict around him as her end neared.

Y/N’s thighs began to burn with exhaustion as she bounced up and down his cock, but she could not stop, not until she reached the dizzying height of her pleasure that was quickly coming on the harder she rode him.

Sanemi, however, appeared to sense her growing tiredness. “C’mere,” he said gruffly, one hand lifting to cup her face as the other shifted to press against the small of her back, guiding her to lay flush against him as he claimed her mouth with his own and began to thrust up into her, holding her securely against him.

Y/N groaned into his mouth, as their new position allowed Sanemi to hit a spot within that had her seeing stars as he kept her crushed against him, his tongue dancing languidly with hers. The hand on her lower back moved so that his arm could wrap around her waist and embrace her, as his other hand moved from her jaw to brush a lock of hair back that had fallen in front of her face.

“N-Nemi,” Y/N whimpered, her hips beyond her control as they dropped and rolled and ground against him, in desperate search of her release.

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” Sanemi’s voice was raspy, his arm tightening on her waist in a poor effort at restraint. “I feel it, too.”

Sanemi began thrusting up into her spasming cunt, a renewed string of curses falling from his mouth as the messy sound of Y/N’s honeyed core filled the room. Y/N felt herself begin to tighten around him, the thighs trembling against either side of his waist as she slammed herself back onto him, her cries growing louder as Sanemi brought her closer to her peak. His hips began to lose rhythm as he wildly jutted into her. Y/N’s eyes were squeezed shut as she began to babble, alternating between cries of his name and nearly incoherent pleas for more.

Sanemi’s hand found hers and brought it up against his chest, holding it tightly as his other arm cinched around her waist. “Let go for me, baby,” his voice was hoarse as he leaned up slightly to brush a kiss against her lips.

One, strong grind of her hips later, Y/N shattered around him, her inner walls seizing him like a vice as she tipped her head back and wailed for him, so pretty and so completely undone by him that she did not think she could ever be put back together and be wholly her own, without his touch forever imprinted on her skin, or upon her heart.

She knew, at that moment, as Sanemi’s grunts turned into loud, unrestrained moans as he bucked wildly into her, that running from him had always been futile, because she’d only ever been running in circles, only to find herself as she was then, right back on her knees before him, utterly his.

The difference was, she realized as he gave one last mighty push of his hips up into her still-spasming core, his seed shooting into her with blinding force, as a strangled shout-cry tore from his throat and his fingers seized around hers against his chest, that he’d been running in the same circle, too, just in the opposite direction. But now they’d run out of track to tread, and he’d smacked right into her, knocking both of them off their axes, stumbling and spinning together until they’d finally hit the ground, with only each other to face and nowhere else to run; and she was tired of running, anyways.

Because she knew, as Sanemi’s hips finally stilled against hers and she collapsed against his chest and he on the bed, leaking cock still nestled between her legs, that she loved him.

She loved him.

She loved him.

-----

Neither of them spoke for a long while, both panting hard as they caught their breaths.

“You said you think I’m possessive — maybe I am,” Sanemi said after a long moment, as the two came down from their mutual highs. “But it’s because I want to be yours. I’ve always been yours.”

He paused before continuing, his arms around her tightening. But when he spoke again, his voice was perceptibly softer, more timid, as though afraid of her rejection. “And I want you to be mine, too.” 

Let him into your heart, and he will gladly give you his.

Y/N’s hand found his at her waist, and gently, she removed it. As she brushed her lips over the calloused pads, always so soft whenever they touched her, she lifted her gaze to his.

“You are mine,” she repeated softly, before moving his hand to press against the valley between her breasts, where her heart beat strong against her sternum. “And this has always belonged to you.”

Sanemi’s cheeks burned red as he bent to graze her lips with his, his hand still pressed against her chest. So innocent and chaste was the kiss that it was easy to forget that his cock remained buried within her, his seed still gathering on the sheets beneath them as it trickled from her.

Sanemi’s thumb stroked the skin of her sternum absentmindedly. “What comes next, Y/N?” He murmured, his eyes tracing over the features of her face as she rested her cheek against his bicep. “What do you want this to be – what would make you happiest?”

Y/N thought for a moment and weighed all of the emotions that had sat heavily in her chest for the past two days – the past two years – untangling each knot and snarl that had formed to obstruct the heart of her true desire.

When she spoke, her voice was as soft as a feather.

“I want to be with you. I’ve only ever wanted to be with you. That hasn’t changed.”

Sanemi’s eyes widened with a hope she knew he’d not dare let himself feel ever since their fateful reunion at the Kizuki. “So you’ll stay? With me?”

Y/N’s answering smile was wide as she leaned up to brush a gentle kiss against his lips. “Yes, ‘Nemi. I will stay.”

And for the first time in two years, Y/N felt just as hopeful as him.

“Can I kiss you again?” Sanemi breathed, staring down at her in awe, as though he could not believe that she was real, despite having just had her in the most real way he could have.

Y/N didn’t answer, instead raising her lips to his, as she threaded her fingers through his hair to hold him close to her. Sanemi responded with a soft groan and pressed himself into her. His cock began to twitch to life within her once more as her tongue slid into his eager mouth, gliding alongside his own.

She moaned into his mouth as he began to roll into her, her legs falling to the side to accommodate his body as he settled himself between her thighs. But Sanemi’s warm, rough hands slid underneath her backside and shifted her to lay on her side next to him, her chest pressed flush against his as he began to rock gently into her.

Y/N lifted her leg so that it wrapped around his hips, and Sanemi groaned, one of his steel-like arms wrapping under her upper thigh to hold it in place. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his lips trailing along the underside of her jaw and down her throat. “Just focus on me, baby.”

The hand of the arm gripping her thigh moved to splay across her backside, pushing her against him as he rolled into her. A cracked moan broke from her throat as Sanemi began to massage her cheek in time with the slow, languid pump of his cock into her, the walls of her cunt tightening around him.

They continued to rock into one another like that, softly groaning and gasping every time Sanemi’s hips stuttered against hers, or every time Y/N’s nails sunk harder into the muscular slope of his back, so lost in the feel of the other’s body that Y/N was sure she did not know where she ended, and he began.

“Sanemi,” she cried, because the feeling of him this close, of him being this gentle, was so overwhelming to her because it was more than just fucking. This was them, raw, and unguarded, moving imperfectly against one another and letting their bodies speak in the words their mouths had not.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here. I’m right here,” he promised, his lips brushing against hers once, twice. His arm tightened around where it gripped her upper thigh, hand splayed across her backside, as he rocked harder into her, both of their ends rapidly approaching. “I’ve got you.”

Y/N pressed her lips desperately against his, needing him to soothe the ache that grew in her core as she drew near the summit of her pleasure. She hitched her leg higher up on his hip to allow him to push deeper into her, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she felt Sanemi’s balls begin to tap against the curve of her backside as he picked up his speed.

“Come with me,” Sanemi grit out, his brow pinched as he stifled another groan. Y/N chased a bead of sweat as it rolled down his neck, mewling in agreement as she tugged him closer, pressing her chest flush against his.

“I’m close – fuck, I’m close,” Sanemi gasped, his lips crashing down against hers, his teeth tugging at her lip before he pulled away. “Are you?”

Y/N nodded desperately, as a long, high-pitched whine tore from her throat. “I wanna cum – ah – Sanemi, please, I want to cum.”

Sanemi’s hurried thrusts up into her melted into rutting, as his thick length hardly slid out of her sopping and spent heat. “Eyes on me, baby,” he managed, his fingers digging into the plush of her ass as he began to twitch inside her – a sure sign he was mere seconds from his peak.

With great effort, Y/N opened her eyes and met those violet eyes that she loved so dearly, and Y/N’s climax slammed into her with a force that had her crying out. She was the rough, coarse wave that crashed and broke around the steady rock that was Sanemi.

His free hand fumbled for hers, bringing it close against his chest, fingers tightly locked together. Her eyes still locked with his, Sanemi’s soft grunts turned to loud, wanton moans, his thrusts sloppy and jerky, as he came in time with Y/N, filling her with his hot, thick seed until it spilled over where they were connected, staining the sheets beneath them.

Sanemi did not stop pumping into her, could not, as he continued to unload within her, the hand on her ass locking her against him as his hips finally stilled against her with a final, strained cry of her name.

He collapsed against her, his full weight bearing down on her as they struggled to catch their breath. After a few moments, Sanemi shifted like he was going to pull out of her and away, but Y/N whined in protest.

“’Nemi,” Y/N panted, her arms locking around his back and holding him to her as she circled her hips against his, Sanemi hissing as she began to overstimulate him. “Please, can we stay like this for just a little longer?”

She hardly recognized the breathy, needy tone with which she spoke. For so long, she’d denied herself of any intimacy with him that extended beyond allowing him to cum in her, always pulling away and fumbling for her clothes the second his climax ended. But now, Y/N could not bear the thought of tearing herself away from him, because she belonged to him, and he finally belonged to her.

Sanemi’s hands dug into her waist as his head dropped into the crook of her shoulder to bury his face into her skin. She felt him inhale deeply, as though she was the air he needed to breath, and he nodded, apparently unable to form any words as he came down from his high.

After a few, quiet moments, the air around them only occasionally disturbed by the sound of their breathing, Sanemi answered her. “I will always want you to stay.”

-----

Y/N did not remember the last time she’d slept more peacefully than she did that night wrapped in Sanemi’s arms.

When the bright light of the sun finally broke through the gossamer-like curtains hung on the guest room window, Y/N sleepily blinked herself awake, turning to bury her face into the mattress to hide away from the bright, unrelenting light of morning. But what lay beneath her cheek was not the feather-plush soft of the luxurious mattresses the Uzuis had in every room of their summer home; it was rocky, hard muscle covered by warm, scar-speckled skin that made up the man she loved with every fiber of her being.

Sanemi groaned as he felt her face press against his upper abdomen, his hand raising to caress up her spine as he drew his other arm over his eyes to block out the sun. “’S too early,” he protested, drawing a light chuckle from Y/N.

“We have to leave soon,” she whispered, pressing a kiss against the rigid plane of his abdomen before trailing her lips down to where his cock was already beginning to stir. “Let’s at least enjoy the morning.”

Sanemi did not protest as she ducked beneath the covers to take him into her mouth, sighing happily as his hands softly stroked her hair while she bobbed up and down his length. Sanemi, however, was too impatient to feel Y/N’s walls around him once more, and lasted only a minute before he tugged her up his torso and sank her down onto him, his face buried into her neck as his teeth bit into the sensitive skin of her throat.

Y/N spent the remainder of their morning fucking herself once more on Sanemi’s stiff length, relishing the way his broad hands slid under her thighs as she rode him to lift them up so he could watch himself thrust up into her, admiring the way his cock glistened with the pleasure he helped to give her.

A couple of hours later, the group of friends loaded up their respective cars, Tengen and Obanai grumbling under the bright light of day as both fought of their mutual hangovers from the previous night’s inhibitions.

Though Y/N was set to ride with Mitsuri and Sanemi with the boys, neither of them could conceal the small, contented smiles they bore as they loaded their bags into the trunks of their cars, the pair occasionally sneaking a furtive glance at the other, smiles only broadening as their eyes met.

Just before Y/N opened the passenger door of Mitsuri’s vintage Volkswagen, she felt a pair of fingers, rough yet warm and familiar, brush shyly against her own.

“Text me when you guys get back, okay?” Sanemi murmured. On the other side of the car, Mitsuri’s jaw fell open, and her jade eyes gleamed with poorly-concealed excitement.

Y/N closed her hand around his and jerked him down, muffling his grunt of surprise as her lips met his. “I will.” She said as she released him, Sanemi’s cheeks turning pink as he grinned back at her. His hand closed around hers where it rested on the door handle of Mitsuri’s car, and pulled it open, holding it for her as she turned and lowered herself into the passenger seat.

Mitsuri practically tripped over herself as she scrambled into the driver’s seat, though she restrained herself from squealing until the door was shut safely behind her. Keys turning in the ignition, the pink-haired girl turned to her best friend, nearly vibrating with excitement.

“Tell me everything. Now.”

Y/N laughed as the pinkette pulled out of the manicured driveway of the Uzuis’ lake house, and she began to fill her friend in on everything that had changed between her and her childhood best friend.

-----

The lightness that Y/N felt leaving the lake house lasted the entire drive back home with Mitsuri in the latter’s car, her chest feeling full and warm as the two scream-sang along to every song on Mitsuri’s playlist.

The sun was nearly setting by the time the pinkette parked her car in front of their apartment building, the pair having stopped to grab sushi for dinner for themselves. As the two exited Mitsuri’s car, Y/N noted Shinobu’s small, purple sports car parked at the far end of the lot and smiled to herself, knowing her friend was home, where they could talk. As they’d picked up their to-go order from the sushi restaurant down the street, Y/N had made the last-minute decision to grab one of Shinobu’s favorite rolls, having resolved to talk to her other roommate and work things out between them.

Not that there was truly anything for them to work out – Y/N had concluded she didn’t blame her friend for what had happened; Y/N had made her own choices, as had Douma.

The pair of best friends giggled as they walked up the steps to their apartment, takeout bags in hand, ready for a night of relaxing on the couch with sushi, some facemasks, and trashy reality television. Y/N’s key unlocked the front door, which swung open to a darkened apartment. Her fingers flipped the kitchen light on and the sushi bag in her hands dropped to the floor.

For there, sprawled on the linoleum by the kitchen counter in a puddle of her own vomit and blood, was Shinobu.

She wasn’t moving; it was hard to tell if she was breathing.

Everything seemed to slow down and speed up all at once. One moment, the two young women were laughing and talking as they returned from a life-changing weekend at the lake, and the next, Mitsuri was screaming while Y/N heard nothing but the strong roar of panic echoing in her ears. 

“Call an ambulance!” Y/N managed to bite out at her hyperventilating friend as she dropped to her knees beside her unconscious roommate, her hands shaking as she tried to feel for a pulse. “Mitsuri!”

As the pinkette scrambled for her phone, Y/N took note of the odd violet hue of Shinobu’s vomit and the sickly-sweet scent of flowers and synthetic fruit.

With trembling hands, Y/N brushed back a strand of her friend’s inky-violet hair that had fallen in front of her face. There, mixed within the dried blood beneath Shinobu’s nostrils, was the faintest trace of lilac.

Wisteria.

Over the roaring in her ears, Y/N vaguely heard Mitsuri crying into the phone with the emergency dispatch operator.

“She’s twenty,” Mitsuri sobbed. “We don’t know what happened, but it might’ve been an overdose. But there’s blood, too.”

Her pink-haired friend was right; there was an alarming amount of blood, dark and sticky, that had pooled beneath Shinobu’s head. Y/N suspected she’d hit her head on the edge of the counter, either because she’d tripped or because she’d passed out and hadn’t been able to catch herself, but Y/N couldn’t tell where the wound was, and she was too afraid to risk moving her friend’s head and worsening her injuries.

“Is she breathing?” It took a moment for Y/N to register that Mitsuri’s question was directed at her. “Y/N is she breathing?” 

“I don’t know,” she whispered, “I don’t know, Mitsuri.” And, because she was panicked and scared, and utterly useless, Y/N began to cry. “I can’t tell; my hands won’t stop shaking.”

“I can’t tell.”

-----

Half an hour later, Y/N stood against the wall of the small waiting area in the emergency room, leg bouncing in agitation and anxiety. Beside her, Mitsuri sat with her head in her hands as the two waited for any news as to their friend’s condition.

The outer doors to the emergency room slid open and the girls were joined by Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma, the latter of whom was crying softly to herself. A few moments later, Obanai arrived, face severe, aiming straight for the pinkette as he crouched before her, covering the hands she had buried in her hair with his own and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. 

The waiting room had become too crowded for Y/N’s frazzled nerves to handle. She tore herself from the wall against which she had been fixed, opting instead to pace the hallway between the waiting area and the main hospital. Makio may have called her name, but the roaring in Y/N’s head had become too loud, the jitter under her skin too incessant, for her to remain still in the waiting room a second longer. 

Y/N finally exhausted herself enough to slump back against the wall, the passing sounds and beeps of the hospital only faint echoes in her ears. But then there were thunderous footsteps walking quickly toward her, and Y/N’s eyes lifted just in time to see Sanemi’s stormy face as he reached for her. 

He crushed her against him, one hand buried in her hair as his other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her to him as though he needed to assure himself that she was real and there, and not the one getting her stomach pumped on the other side of the sealed emergency room doors. 

His lips pressed hard against the top of her head, Sanemi inhaling deeply before pulling back from her, his hand rising to cup beneath Y/N’s jaw so he could tilt her face up toward him, those lilac eyes scanning her frantically for any sign of external injury.

“I didn’t know,” he said hoarsely against the crown of her head as he pulled her back against him. “Tengen called -- only said an ambulance was being sent to your apartment – that a twenty-year-old woman had overdosed.” 

Y/N shook her head against his chest, breathing in his comforting scent and allowing it to still the jitters crawling beneath her skin. “I haven’t used in a week, Sanemi.” 

Her – boyfriend? paramour? exhaled shakily, his arms tightening around her. “I was scared. After last night, I-” Sanemi swallowed thickly. “I was worried you regretted it.” 

Y/N closed her eyes as she let herself melt against his stabilizing warmth. “Not you,” she murmured, “Never you.”

-----

An hour later, Y/N stood in her kitchen, chest heaving as she looked at the wreckage of Shinobu’s bender scattered around her.

There was an empty bottle of peach vodka lying on its side on the floor. Lilac residue was smeared on the kitchen counter, likely the result of Shinobu having snorted it the night before. A puddle of her vomit, streaked with purple, still lingered where the petite woman had lost consciousness. 

Sanemi came around the kitchen counter, his hand resting at the small of Y/N’s back as he guided her away from the cabinet below. He bent to pull out a bottle of bleach and a roll of paper towels, as well as a pair of cleaning gloves that he pulled over his scarred, callused hands, and he set to work scrubbing at the floor. 

Y/N watched him for a long moment before she moved to begin rounding up all of the bottles of liquor and wine that had been stashed in their apartment. One by one, she dumped their contents into the sink and chucked the empty containers into the garbage.

Next, Y/N gathered up all traces of Shinobu’s Wisteria from their various stash spots around the apartment. It had taken her a while to hunt through pharmacology student’s room, given that the young woman had become rather adept at squirreling away those poisonous little pills. Over the course of an hour, Y/N had managed to locate every little baggie and loose pill shoved under her friend’s mattress, tucked into her sock drawer, and slotted between pages of textbooks she’d never opened. 

She’d stood over the toilet where she’d flushed them for a long while after the last of those lilac devils had swirled down the drain. It was not until a pair of warm, comforting arms encircled her from behind that Y/N was aware of the tears slipping hot and fast down her cheeks. 

Sanemi pressed a soft kiss into the back of her neck as she cried, allowing her to press her face into his muscled forearm until her sobs had quieted, before he turned her around. He’d kept one hand on her shoulder as he leaned to tug her shower curtain open and turn the water on, before returning to her. Slowly, and with more gentleness than Y/N thought she deserved, Sanemi began to undress her, chucking her vomit and sweat-stained clothes into her laundry bin before helping her into the shower.

Y/N stood numbly under the hot spray of the water as she waited, the sounds of Sanemi’s belt and pants hitting the cold tile of the floor before he parted the curtain and stepped into the bathtub with her. 

The moment he’d re-oriented the shower curtain to close them in, Y/N melted against him. Sanemi’s hands came to her waist, gently turning her so that her back was to him, as though he knew she was losing the battle against the weariness that had seeped into her bones. His arms locked tightly around her, he guided them to sit on the floor of the bathtub. He situated Y/N between his legs, her back resting against his chest. One arm was wrapped around her upper shoulders, holding her to him, as the other wound around her waist from behind, gripping her hand in his. His lips found the juncture between her shoulder and neck, brushing softly against her wet skin once before he buried his face there and held her, as the hot water beat down upon them. 

They stayed like that until Y/N could no longer tell whether the water on her face was from her tears or the spray of the shower nozzle above. 

Only after the water had begun to cool and their fingers had turned wrinkled did Sanemi help her stand, reaching behind her to shut the shower off. 

Sanemi stepped out first, grabbing a towel from where it hung on the back of her bathroom door, to secure around his waist. He then produced two more from Y/N’s bathroom closet – her two fluffiest – and held them under his arm as he used his free hand to help Y/N out of her shower to stand on her bathmat.

Had she’d any tears left, Y/N was certain they would have been shed as Sanemi gently toweled her hair and body try before he scooped her up and carried her to her bedroom.

Sanemi set her carefully on the edge of her bed before leaving to return to her bathroom once more. Y/N’s eyes were fixed blankly on the carpeted floor of her room, her mind blank and that howling numbness that had become her constant companion over the last two months threatening to swallow her whole once more. She barely registered Sanemi’s return to her room until he, in all of his shower-dampened glory, knelt at her feet, with a bottle of her favorite lotion in hand.

Wordlessly, Sanemi pumped some of the lotion into his hand and began to gently massage it into her skin, starting at her feet and working his way up her legs. Once he’d reached the tops of her thighs, he repeated the action once more, carefully taking the time to ensure that he worked the lotion on every part of her body. With every stroke of his hand against her skin, Sanemi chased away that encroaching numbness, replacing it with the warmth of his adoration and love for her.

“Have you eaten today?” Sanemi’s voice broke the comfortable silence that had settled over them.

Y/N shook her head. “But I’m not hungry – really,” She urged as Sanemi opened his mouth in protest. “Can we just – just lay here?” She patted the soft down of her bed, motioning for him to join her.

Sanemi nodded, rising to turn towards her dresser to pull out a pair of underwear for her and digging out a pair of briefs of his that he’d let her borrow as pair of shorts after one of their earlier trysts.

Once both had pulled their respective pairs of underwear on, Sanemi squeezed himself into the small crevice between her twin bed and her bedroom wall and held out his arm in an invitation that Y/N did not hesitate to accept.

She curled against his bare chest, warm against her own naked skin, and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she sighed deeply, inhaling his scent and allowing it to wash over her, and still her mind.

Sanemi’s hands absentmindedly stroked her hair, his lips periodically pressing against her hairline as she began to doze in his arms. Just before the exhaustion commanded her to fall into sleep’s embrace, she spoke.

“I meant what I said earlier – I haven’t used Wisteria in over a week. I stopped drinking. I’m done, Sanemi. I swear it.”

Her face was pressed against his pectoral, so she did not see the tears of quiet, exhausted relief that filled his eyes as he pressed his lips against her forehead once more. “I know. Kyo mentioned on the way back that you’d been dealing with withdrawal for the last week. That it was why you weren’t answering your phone.”

Sanemi’s arms tightened around her as she began to drift off. “I’m proud of you, Y/N.” And then, he added in a voice so quiet that she almost didn’t hear it before sleep’s sweet lull pulled her under. “Thank you for choosing to stay.”

-----

She slept soundly through the night once more, until Sanemi awoke her in the early hours of the morning with his head between her legs, Y/N gaining consciousness just in time to come on his tongue. In the throes of her climax, Sanemi replaced its position at her entrance with his fingers as he dragged it up her messy folds so he could suckle at her clit.

Sleepily, Y/N clawed at his back, an impatient demand for more falling in the form of a whine from her lips, and Sanemi complied. He turned her onto her stomach and his cock found its way between her thighs as he began to fuck her from behind, his hips setting a leisurely pace as they slapped against her ass, Y/N’s soft moans only growing in their vibrato as he brought her to orgasm yet again, his warmth flooding her shortly after as he sighed her name.

They remained in bed for another few hours, talking and holding one another, trading lazy kisses and gentle caresses because they could not get enough of touching each other like they were right then – soft and meaningful, because Y/N and Sanemi were now a them, rather than two people who alternated running from the other.

Sanemi, it seemed, especially couldn’t keep his hands off her, which she found amusing, given that as children, Y/N was always the one who initiated any kind of affection with him, though she suspected that his begrudging acceptance of it had really been a front to conceal his true feelings.

His hand was smoothing up and down her bare thigh as she stroked his hair, his eyelids fluttering shut against her touch, when his phone rang from its place on her nightstand.  Groaning, Sanemi blindly felt for the buzzing device, answering it only with a grunt as he kept his eyes locked on her, his hand still gliding up and down her shin.

His brow furrowed in seriousness, and he nodded, as though whomever was on the other end could actually see him, before he muttered a soft, “thanks, man,” and clicked the phone off, tossing it back onto her covers.

“That was Iguro. Shinobu is awake, and they’re allowing visitors.” His eyes were full of a quiet concern as he regarded her gently. “Are you okay to go right now?”

Y/N was already making her way out of bed, nodding. Of course she was okay to go – she needed to go, needed to assure for herself that her friend was awake and knew she was supported.

She dressed quickly, donning only a matching black workout set and sneakers before pulling a jacket over her bare shoulders. Sanemi merely tugged on the clothes he'd worn the day before.

“I’ll stop at my place on the way back,” he added, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “If you want me to stay again tonight, that is,”

Y/N turned away so he wouldn’t see the small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she quieted a laugh, so as not to make him feel embarrassed. “I want you to stay.”

Sanemi drove them, though he kept his hand firmly locked around hers the entire ride. Ever since they’d began their physical relationship back at the start of the summer, she’d been adamant that she wouldn’t allow herself to accept any affection from him if he didn’t have his cock buried inside of her while he gave it. It seemed too risky at the time, as though allowing him to care for her would blur some line she insisted had already been drawn, even though she’d been the one to hold the stick marking the ground.

Now, in hindsight, she couldn’t believe she’d denied herself of his intimacy for so long – not when it felt this good to have his steadying, grounding warmth wrapped firmly around her hand, his thumb running over her knuckles as he smoothly worked the steering wheel with his free hand.

This -- whatever this was. It was good.

-----

By the time Sanemi drove them back to her apartment, the evening sky was beginning to shift from a pale blue to a creamy orange, the sun beginning its descent towards sleep for the night.

Y/N, herself, felt an exhaustion so heavy, she wondered whether it had infiltrated the marrow of her bones. Her head ached slightly after a solid hour of crying with Shinobu, the latter offering apology after apology as Y/N held her trembling form close, shushing her with assurances that she’d never blamed the pixie-like girl for what Douma had chosen to do just a few weeks earlier.

Shinobu had confessed she hadn’t been trying to harm herself – not really, anyways. Rather, she’d been so overcome by her guilt and self-loathing that she’d stopped keeping track of just how much alcohol she’d been drinking or how much of her accursed Wisteria she’d been ingesting. The cut on the side of her forehead truly hadn’t been that deep, but it had been the result of a fall she couldn’t break, just as Y/N expected.

Y/N had sat, curled beside her roommate and dear friend, for another couple of hours, until Giyuu materialized in the doorway, deep-set shadows under his eyes and breathing hard, as he took in Shinobu’s vulnerable form, hooked up to various hospital machines, with a thick bandage wrapped around her head.

Y/N had quietly untangled herself from her friend and quietly exited the room, patting Giyuu’s shoulder as she passed him, though the ravenette did not acknowledge her, far too focused on his crying girlfriend as he wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly against his chest.

As they’d walked back to his car, Sanemi told her that Giyuu had driven straight through the night from his sister’s the moment he’d received word of Shinobu’s condition, too frantic to be by her side to even stop for food or rest.

Sanemi swung by his apartment, as he promised, and emerged a few minutes later with a bag full of his clothes and toiletries before he drove the rest of the short drive back to her shared apartment with Mitsuri and Shinobu. Her best friend, however, had decided to stay over at Obanai’s, and given that her other roommate was unlikely to be discharged before the following day, Y/N and Sanemi had her apartment to themselves once again.

After a dinner of vegetable omlettes, prepared by Sanemi, the pair fell back into Y/N’s tiny twin bed, both exhausted from the excitement and stress of the previous four days. Y/N, in particular, had felt more emotionally zapped than she had in a long while, having spent the majority of the holiday weekend crying for one reason or another, and wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her evening wrapped securely in Sanemi’s arms as she listened to his heartbeat lull her to sleep.

She’d stripped herself of her clothes, leaving herself in only her thong, as she pressed herself against Sanemi’s bare chest. Sanemi, however, could sense her weariness, and so they did no more than kiss every now and then, both merely content to simply hold the other and bask in their shared warmth.

“Thank you for being here for me – yesterday and today,” Y/N murmured quietly, her lips grazing his collarbone.

Sanemi’s fingers brushed under her chin as he tilted her face up to meet her eyes. “I told you already, I’m all in. Whatever it is you want from me, I’ll be it.”

Y/N smiled wryly at him as her eyes roamed his face in consideration. “So, does that mean we’re official? Are we boyfriend-girlfriend?”

His responding smirk made her thighs squeeze together as he leaned in close to her face. “You can call me whatever you want, baby,” he kissed her nose before lowering his lips to hers, though he held back, teasingly. “And for however long as you want.”

She giggled as he kissed her and it felt like coming home, and Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she felt like she’d had one of those.

He broke away from her after a moment, hand coming to a rest against the side of her head while his thumb stroked her cheek, a profundity creeping into his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N. With all my heart.”

Y/N thought her heart would fly out of her chest as Sanemi repeated the words she’d uttered to him nearly two years prior. She thought hearing them would cause her to clam up, that they would send her careening back to the dark, lonely hole she’d spent the last half of her university experience trying desperately to claw out of, but they did not.

Instead, Sanemi’s words – her words – mended something within her that she’d long thought to have been irreparably broken. There was no emptiness left in her, no gnawing wound; it had been healed by him and his earnestness, and she only felt her love for him. Love that made her feel pretty, soft, and new, mending her broken heart with its golden light.

“I never stopped loving you,” Y/N’s voice grew thick with the tears that filled her eyes. “Please know that. No matter how mad I was, no matter how low I felt, I always knew I loved you – and I still do.”

Sanemi’s answering grin was so beautiful, so bright, that she wondered why she’d waited so long after making up to say it. His smile made her feel as though she could soar through the sky, breathless and wild and free.

Once upon a time, she’d believed love was pretty; she imagined it would be soft, pink, and shiny and make her feel warm and pretty in return.

Then, as an adult, she realized that love was pretty, but not in the way she’d imagined it would be when she listened to stories of princesses and their knights as a little girl. Love was a blur of many hues, some soft and bright, but some dark and harsh too, melding together to create a kaleidoscope of light and shadows. And it was because of this phantasmagoria of joy and pain and laughter and sadness that love was so beautiful, and so worth fighting for, because in the end, finding herself in the arms of the only person she’d ever loved outweighed any of the heartache which preceded it, and it would be worth whatever heartache was sure to come.

Because loving Sanemi Shinazugawa was worth it all.

EPILOGUE – 2 months later

The sun was golden and bright and the air as crisp as an apple as the couple de-boarded their train at the small station in their hometown, hands clasped tightly together. The blazing heat of summer had quickly given way to October, and the autumn harvest brought with it a new tiding of ruby and ochre yellow leaves.

Y/N was grateful for the loose sweater she’d worn — stolen from Sanemi’s dresser one day several weeks earlier when she’d insisted she needed his scent to take back to her apartment with her, to help her get through the first wave of reading and papers she’d been slammed with. Initially, Sanemi had protested with a grumbled “fuck off,” as she’d tried to lay claim to his favorite sweater.

He’d change his tune rather quickly, however, when his girlfriend then donned the garment whilst giving him what he later called “the best head of his life.” And so, the worn, dark gray sweater had remained safely in Y/N’s care.

As the train doors slid shut behind them, Y/N took a deep, steadying breath, mentally preparing herself for the reason they’d risen early that Saturday morning to return to their sleepy hometown.

The gentle squeeze of Sanemi’s hand around hers as he brought their interlocked fingers to his mouth for a sweet kiss, helped abate some of her nerves and grounded her.

“You ready?” He murmured, his eyes warm and so full of love and concern for the woman beside him that Y/N felt her heart lurch.

She smiled at him, softly, and rose on her toes to press a chaste kiss against his lips. “I’m ready.”

The advantage of living in a small town — no more than a village, really — was that nearly everything was within walking distance, as long as one did not mind a few steep hills here and there. And so, the couple set off from their town’s small train station, towards the grocer to pick up flowers — two bouquets, one for each grave that marked the final resting spot for their loved ones.

Autumnal arrangements in hand, the pair walked in a comfortable silence up the hill leading to the cemetery.

“Genya’s with the rest of my family,” Sanemi said quietly as they passed the iron-gated entrance that gave way to the sprawl of headstones that lined the grassy hilltop. “They’re just over here.”

Y/N nodded, squeezing Sanemi’s hand in assurance as her boyfriend led her up a small trail to a row of graves gathered beneath an old willow tree.

When Sanemi had shared with her that he made this bi-weekly sojourn to visit and lay flowers on the graves of his family, Y/N had cried. She’d held him tightly, offering a litany of apologies for not being there for him more, for the fact he’d been doing it alone.

He wouldn’t hear of it, insisting that she hadn’t anything to apologize for, which only made her cry harder.

A hush fell over the pair as they drew up upon the Shinazugawa family graves, Y/N’s heart breaking a little more as her eyes scanned each name, the life spans etched into the stones far too short.

Wordlessly, Sanemi plucked a flower from the bouquet he carried and laid one at the base of each gravestone, repeating the process until no more flowers remained. Once the last flower was placed, just over Genya’s grave, Sanemi straightened, gripping Y/N’s hand tightly in his own as his other lifted to wipe at his eyes.

“He’d be over the moon, ya know, that we’re finally together,” Sanemi murmured, his voice hoarse with his grief, nodding at the last stone bearing the name of his beloved brother. “He used to give me all kinds of shit for not making a move sooner.”

“He always was wise beyond his years,” Y/N sniffed quietly, her own tears slipping freely down her cheeks. “He used to pester me about it, too – would always ask if I was single, and if I said ‘yes,’ he’d mention that you were also single.” She huffed a watery laugh as the image of the boy’s smiling face flashed through her memory. “Though, I think he did it more so to tease me, because I’d always turn as red as a tomato whenever he’d mention it.”

Sanemi smiled softly as he squeezed her hand. “It’s a family trait, I s’ppose.”

The couple remained at the site of Sanemi’s family’s graves for a little while longer, the last living Shinazugawa tucking his girlfriend tightly into his side as he held her close, her warmth helping to keep him anchored here, to life, rather than wishing he slumbered beneath the hardening ground with his family.

Eventually, they agreed to make their way toward the other grave that had drawn them there, Y/N taking a deep, steadying breath as she prepared herself to visit her mother’s final resting place for the first time since her death.

“I think the map said she’s over this way,” Y/N nodded at a small, winding path that led down a gentle hill to the south of the Shinazugawa plot. “I remember I wanted her over there by the walnut tree – she loved them in the autumn.”

Sanemi nodded and let her lead the way, her fingers clutching tightly around the bouquet in her hands as she drew nearer to the tree which marked her mother’s plot, her stomach twisting with anticipation.

Because she knew, the moment her eyes settled on the stone with her mother’s name and dates of birth and death, that reality would hit her all over again; but she persisted, for the sake of her mother, who’d loved her more than anything.

“Mr. Shinazugawa!” A voice called, and both looked over to see the old cemetery caretaker waving in greeting as the pair made their way towards the section where Y/N’s mother rest.

“Good morning, Mr. Urokodaki,” Sanemi answered, nodding respectfully in greeting. “I can’t believe they have you working on the weekends.”

The grandfatherly caretaker chuckled. “Only the departed sleep; I do not.” He shifted the rake he was holding from one hand to another as he wiped his brow.  “It’s been a few weeks since I last saw you!”

“School has kept me busy, sir.” Sanemi’s hand around hers squeezed and Y/N smiled softly.

“Well, I had a feeling I’d be seeing you soon, so I went ahead and cleared any leaves off Mrs. Y/L/N’s grave for you – and I took the liberty of clearing out the flowers you brought last time.”

Y/N’s breath died in her throat as she looked between the old man and her boyfriend, her eyes wide.

Mr. Urokodaki appeared to mistake her shock for confusion. “He’s such a kind lad, your friend!” The old man smiled warmly at Sanemi, before continuing his explanation to her. “He brings flowers not just for his family, but for a woman he knew growing up – like clockwork, every two weeks, for the last year. That’s why I was worried when he didn’t show up last week!”

Sanemi chuckled softly. “I’m back to the regular schedule now, sir!” And he bid the old caretaker farewell. He turned back to his girlfriend, but froze at the expression on her face, mouth slightly open and eyes as round as saucers.

“Y-you, you’ve b-been,” she stuttered, her eyes welling with tears as she began to shake.

Sanemi hesitantly reached for her, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I know I should’ve asked, first, but we weren’t talking yet, and I wanted to make sure --,” Sanemi’s explanation was cut off with a small mmph! as Y/N grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and hauled his mouth down to hers.

After a long moment, she broke away. “T-this whole time, ‘Nemi — you —,” Y/N could hardly speak through her tears. Sanemi’s arms wound tightly around her waist, locking her to him as she buried her face into his neck.

Her boyfriend’s lips found her side of her head and he smiled softly into her hair. “Tch, idiot,” he said, affectionately. “I told you already — there hasn’t been a single moment that’s gone by that I haven’t loved you.”

“And I loved her, too.” He added quietly after a moment.

Sanemi’s words only served to make her cry harder, her arms tightening around his neck as she poured every ounce of her love and gratitude into the force with which she hugged him tightly against her.

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from peppering his face with kisses, as Sanemi’s smile stretched wide across his face. The brilliance of his happiness was nearly blinding, but Y/N knew she would never desire to look away from it – from him.

Y/N pulled back to study his face, her hand coming to rest against the side that bore his scars, her thumb gently stroking the one that crossed his nose. “I love you,” she whispered. The tears still shone in her eyes, but beneath them lay a fierce sincerity. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

His lilac irises glimmered with his own emotion at her words, and his hand reached to intertwine with hers once more, the other lifting to brush the last, errant tear that escaped down her cheek.

“C’mon,” he said thickly after a moment, “Don’t wanna keep your Ma waiting.”

Cries. Thanks for reading!

[muzansfangs]

Guilty pleasure.

Starring: Muzan x f!reader; Douma, Akaza and Kokushibo.

General warnings for the next chapters: nsfw (minors do not interact), modern au, age gap, dom!muzan, sub!reader, sugar daddy dynamics, choking, semi-public sex, car sex, spanking, vaginal sex, virgin reader, business agreement, murder, death, torture, trauma.

Warning for this part: none! Just Muzan sending Douma and Kokushibo to stalk you.

Plot: Kibutsuji Muzan, the ambitious, high-flying politician the world needed, knew that in order to resemble the incarnation of the perfect man, ready to lead the Country, he would have needed a beautiful, young girl by his side. He did not care if it was real love, or just a façade. All he cared about was to make a certain impression. Meeting you was literally a manna from heaven. You signed the agreement, he treated you like a goddess. This was the beginning of a twisted fairytale, but you knew better than falling for him and, surely, he was not going to lose his mind for you. Or so you thought.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

THE AGREEMENT.

Muzan stared at the pictures scattered on his desk. He had made up his mind. You were truly a delicacy, indeed. It appeared like Douma had done a pretty decent job in searching the city for a woman whose appearence whetted Muzan’s appetites.

You were young, cheerful, working at a local restaurant to pay for your studies: the perfect candidate for being the future First Lady.

He knew everything about you. Your address, your friends’s names, your zodiac sign, your favorite ice-cream flavor and even your ex’s identity. Tracking you down and spying on you was easy. How could you, a sweet, lovely girl, imagine that the soon to be President had his plum red eyes on you? Your naivety intrigued him. He could play you like a doll, spoil you like a child and treat you like a princess. He did not care if your heart was going to belong to someone else. All you had to do was smiling for the pictures, being his future wife, show the world you were head over heels for him and, naturally, tell the medias you were his property.

He was confident about the outcome of your first, fateful encounter. He was a good-looking man, persuasive and pretty intimidating even. You would have probably fallen for his charm and forgotten about the terms of the contract anyway.

A knock on the door was the signal that you had arrived. Sending Douma to pick you up would have probably been detrimental to the mission and he knew better than letting you slip from his fingers. Kokushibo, on the other hand, was the best choice he could have ever made. Prefessional, authoritative and precise, he had apparently fulfilled his mission.

“Come in” Muzan said, flicking his gaze up to the door.

A second later, the door creaked open to reveal Kokushibo. He took a step forward, taking his sunglasses off and bowing his head to his boss as a sign of respect “She’s waiting for you in the dining room” he announced flatly, causing a smirk to cross Muzan’s face.

What an obedient girl you were. He was almost taken aback by the way you had decided to follow a stranger in a Maserati and trust what he had said. Either you were smart, or far too easy to play with.

“Thanks, Kokushibo. – Muzan stated, straightening his tie and grabbing the contract from the messy desk behind him – You are dismissed” he added shortly, walking past the tall dark-haired man and making his way to you, the new branded attraction of his house.

You were sitting on a black-leather chair, the goblet of red wine, a Chianti, that the dapper bodyguard had poured for you was settled on the crystal table, inviting you to take a sip. You resisted the tempation, it would have probably offended Mr. Kibutsuji, if you had not waited for him.

Yes, you knew who was requiring your presence. You had a really good photographic memory and you had recognized the shiny car of the politician’s bodyguards. You had watched it on the tv’s reports, you had seen it parked nearby your house for the past six months. He had probably sent his dogs to stalk you.

What truly puzzled you was why he wanted to see you. Kokushibo did not answer your questions. You had not told him you knew who he was working for, or that you had figured out who was asking for you. You had just followed him to the car without making a scene. He was a kind man, after all, just a bit frosty.

To snap you out of your stream of consciousness was the deep, velvet voice that kept you company during your lunch breaks, when you turned the tv on in a pathetic attempt to catch up with the daily news.

“Y/N L/N, welcome to my residence” Muzan said, a small smile curling his lips.

He was handsome, tall, elegant, standoffish and filthy rich. You were not used to interact with people coming from the upper class, let alone trying not to embarrass yourself in the presence of the man of the hour, the man that people loved and loathed at the same time.

“Good evening, Mr. Kibutsuji. – you said, standing up quickly from your seat and walking up to him – How may I help our soon to be President?” you quizzically asked him, eyes downcast not to falter under his piercing gaze.

You had stopped three, or four strides away from him not to invade his personal space, but your breath hitched in your throat when he met you midway. The alluring perfume he was wearing intoxicated you and, when he gently grabbed your hand, you were forced to shift your attention on him again. You were paralyzed, his eyes searching yours to make sure you were focused on him and him alone. He brought your hand to his lips, letting them brush over the back of your hand in a drammatically slow and intimate demeanor.

Shivers ran down your spine and you released a breath you did not know you were still holding, when he flashed you a sly grin, the same he directed to the camera, when he made his glorious appearences on the most popular talk-shows of the Country.

“Please, darling, call me Muzan. – he cooed, gesturing for you to take a seat and hesitantly letting go of your hand – I’m so glad you’ve accepted my anonymous invitation. You’re brave” he commented, walking over to the table and filling his own goblet of wine.

You softly smiled and made your way to your seat “Just observant. I thought I had recognized the car and your bodyguard” you admitted, reaching your hand out to grab your own glass.

The dark-haired man hummed, as he swirled the reddish drink into the cup “I should have known you were smart, a quality I absolutely adore finding in a woman. – he purred, sliding some papers towards you on the polished surface of the table – To answer your question, the reason why you are here lays within the lines of this contract”.

A contract?

You forrowed your brows, your eyes settling on the neat pile of papers under your nose. Did he want to hire you for something? You thought he already had a secretary and you clearly were not suited to be his bodyguard. What did Kibutsuji Muzan want from you, a mere student, then?

“I’ve personally drew up the contract. We can discuss some terms, if you are not comfortable with them” he explained, taking a sip of his drink and walking towards the stained glass windows of the large dining room. The landscape was breathtaking. The city lights, the skyscrapers dominating the industrialized area of the city and the yellowish lights of the cars rushing down the avenues were the spectacular view you were beholding.

Reading the whole contract would have probably taken you hours. There was no way in Hell you would have signed it without pondering each and every clause, but you gave it a quick reading and some words were now permeating your brain.

‘Wife, payment, tv, affectio maritalis, sexual performances, moving, money’.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your shaking fingers fidgeting with the charm of your necklace, a small, silver crescent moon, as you blurted out your question “What do you exactly want me to do?”.

Muzan did not turn to face you, he kept his intense gaze trailed on the city line instead “Be my wife” he simply said, earning a gasp from you.

“I’m sorry, what?” you breathed out.

“Adore me in public, love whoever you want privetely. Just a yes and I will shower you in money, gifts, respect and a life you could only dream of for the rest of your life… Are you in, my sweet Y/N?” he taunted you, turning towards you with the most dazzling and wicked smile you had ever seen in your whole existence.

You did not know what crossed your mind in that very instant and the following moments were fuzzy and fragmented, but all you knew on your way back to your small flat was that you had agreed and, when Kokushibo told you that he would have come to pick you up in the weekend, you were ready to start this new life as Kibutsuji’s ‘babygirl’ , as he had called you before you left.

You slumped onto your bed, droopy eyes and tipsy, unaware that a pair of golden and rainbow-colored eyes were watching you slipping into a well-deserved slumber.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi, there!

It’s my first post on this platform and I still need to understand a few basic things about Tumblr. Hopefully, I’ll be able to give you weekly updates, but I make no promises. This is going to be a small fan fiction and my main project for a little while. However, don’t worry, I’ll try to update some other one-shots & scenarios about other characters. Likes, comments and reposts are really appreciated!

X O X O

[strawberriianime]

those eyes

♡ Douma x innocent angel!reader

♡ cw: descriptions of sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, Douma being a complete liar, dominant Douma, Douma being a JERK, creampies? creampies, slight degradation & humiliation, loss of virginity, basically sexxxx.

♡ Douma is known for being cunning, so no figure he was able to fool you~

Humming softly you cleaned the delicate vases in the cool spring water allowing all sprinkles of dirt to get off of the vase. Your thin white dress was floating slightly in the water not bothering you the slightest. You would come down to this spring every now and then to wash different things, a way of blessing an item. Being an angel who had just recently arrived on earth you were getting used to the whole angel thing, you didn’t have much to do just visit small communities and offer small blessings. Blending in was easy, you had the appearance of a normal human your wings only being out when necessary since being here you haven’t run into any problems. Until.

Shaking the access water from the vase, you began making your way out of the water dressed, completely clinging to your body and showing off your lovely figure. Nipples poked through the long sheer gown, showing off the hue of the nubs. 

“My my my, a woman shouldn’t be out here all alone you know” You turned your head left and right looking for the mysterious person who spoke suddenly. Facing back forward you were met with a pair of rainbow-colored eyes. You jumped slightly causing you to fall into the spring and drop the vase you were blessing causing it to break. 

“Oh no you’ve fallen in, my deepest apologies. Please take my hand and allow me to help you out.” He smiled sticking his hand out to you. You took his hand as he helped you up and brought you out of the water. 

“What might you have been up to? Out here all alone, how dangerous.” He kept that smile on his face, something about him was hypnotizing it was like his eyes put you in a trance. 

“I was simply cleaning some belongings, I come quite often I was doing fine. Thank you for being concerned sir.” you smiled at him shaking the access water off of you.

“Oh no problem at all, a beauty like you must be protected you never know what could be lurking in the shadows out here ready to gobble your up.” His head tilted slightly to the side. Perhaps he was right, you know demons are real and they like to prey on the innocent. So it could be quite dangerous for you, you’ve only spent a total of 8 days on Earth and all has been swell so far. 

“Perhaps you’re right, it is best that I do get going thank you for helping me.” you began walking away grabbing the one other vase that had not been broken.

“Ah, I can’t let you go just yet it is my fault that your other vase broke. It is only right if I replaced it. I have a dear friend who makes the loveliest vases you would just adore. So please allow me to replace it?” he placed his hands together almost begging you to come with him.

As an angel, giving the man a chance would be your moral duty. “Sure, however, I am soaking wet.” you sighed referring to the soaked sheer dress you were still wearing. 

“Here” he wrapped an overshirt over your body, taking your hand. “Let us be on the way, I stay not too far from here” he began walking taking you with him. It took quite literally no time to get to his “home” it was more like a temple. Quite off that you did not see this any other time you wandered these woods, possibly you’ve missed some areas.

He pushed open a set of cold stone doors, the room decorated with nothing but shades of red and hints of black. The room was cold, not your average cold but below-freezing cold and you wearing wet clothing which made it no better. Your nipples began hardening making you cross your arms along your chest attempting to shield them from the male in the room with you. 

“My would you like to shed your wet clothing? You would only get sick wearing such clothing at this temperature. I will go get you a towel, you may remove your clothing.” he hummed slightly making his way from the bedroom area. You began removing the overshirt from your body, laying it on a nearby rack. Peeling off the wet dress, you were left in your bare state. You had really no reason to wear any garments under your clothing, although you didn’t own any anyways. Jumping slightly, you felt a cloth being brushed along your skin. 

“Shh it’s just me dear.” the familiar voice ranged out. He ran the cloth along your back, your arms, and slowly down your legs. It was almost embarrassing being exposed so freely to a man you hardly know but there was something so charming about him.

“No need to be so shy, I'm simply aiding you as it was my fault you fell in anyway.” he hummed. He made his way to the front of your body brushing the towel over your breast and making a circular motion with the cloth.

“Hm, it would be better if you at on the bed. I can dress you better that way” It was as if your body moved on its own causing your bottom to make a connection with the bed. He took the towel and began drying your left foot making way up your leg. Switching to your other foot, he began drying up your leg making his way up to your thighs. Taking the cloth he began drying your thighs, ensuring to absorb any moisture from the spring. 

“Spread your legs,” he stated as if that was a normal thing to say to any woman. 

“Uh, I-” Your face flushed to a shade of strawberry red.

“I’m just drying you off any I can’t dry you properly when you’re clamping your legs together locking their moisture in,” he states hands finding themselves on your plush thighs. Although it did not matter considering the strong grip he had on your thighs, you cracked your legs open slightly only for him to spread them wide open. Taking the cloth once more, he began wiping at the inner parts of your thighs getting rid of the last bit of spring water. He dropped the cloth to the floor, allowing his ice-cold hands to dance along your body. He ran a finger up your body, stopping right at your chin.

“You just smell of innocence, never been touched by a man or woman if you’re into that. The way you glide through the water of the spring just begging to be eaten up.” your face twisted up in confusion, what was he getting at?

“As I was drying you, you don’t think I noticed the way you tensed up or the way you clamped your legs together as if begging for me to touch you more?” he brought his face close to yours those rainbow eyes glowing even in a room with little to no light. 

“Sir I must not do this, it isn’t right and I must remain pure.” you turned your head away from him.

“You will still be pure, just do whatever your heart desires~” his cold tongue licked along the side of your neck making you squeal. He lapped at your neck licking from the bottom all the way to the tip of your chin. You felt him push your body back slightly, your back coming in contact with the cool sheets. His large body towered over yours with ease. He licked at your neck again, this time trailing down making way from your shoulders to your right nipple. He licked ever so lightly at the bud that had been hardened by the temperature causing your to squirm under his body. He took his time with your nipple, sucking at the bud getting it nice and wet, rolling it along his tongue. He brought one of his fingers up your leg, dancing its way up to your warm entrance. You’ve never been touched by anyone like this before, it was a new feeling of complete bliss. Your body felt as if it had electricity flowing through it. His finger poked at your entrance, swiping slightly to remove the stickiness of your juices that held your folds together. Stroking at your entrance was enough to get your hips rolling. Just as he switched from your right nipple to your left, you felt him insert one of his cold fingers inside your warmth. He moved the solo finger slowly, allowing you to adjust to his finger. The feeling of his finger inside you and him toying with your nipple was almost enough to send you over the edge.

He released your nipple from his mouth, a thin trail of saliva bridging between the two. Your body tensed up as you felt him slide down to your lower half, cool breath tickling at your entrance. Taking both of his hands, he pushed your thighs apart spreading them to the widest of their ability. You felt his tongue lick with the perfect amount of pressure at your clit causing you to let out an erotic moan. You heard him chuckle slightly before he dove into your cunt licking sloppily while sucking harshly at the right areas. He sucked at your clit rolling the nub along his tongue, cool breath mixed with your warm heat causing your back to arch off of the bed. He gripped at your thighs, cuffing them into his hands holding you in place as he lapped at your cunt as if it was his last meal on earth. Your hands soon found their way to his golden hair, gripping the hair in your fist tight but not tight enough that it’ll cause pain. As if it was not enough already, you felt him release one of your thighs, taking two of his fingers and pushing them into your entrance. You groaned feeling the pressure of his fingers mixed with the feeling of him eating at your heat. Before you know it, he flipped you over so you were now on all fours and he was laying flat on his back. Your body hovered over his as he locked his hands into your thighs once more, pushing your heat down onto his face and allowing him to smother himself with your juices. The feeling was too much as your legs began shaking, but that did not stop his pace at all. With one final suck at your clit your body trembled to feel a euphoric feeling flood over your body. 

You began catching your breath, chest heaving with each breath. You have never experienced this feeling, not once in 100 years. Was this wrong? Dragging you out of your thoughts you felt something fairly large Without any warning, you felt your inside being stretched to the fullest. The feeling was a mix of pain and pleasure and at the moment you were definitely feeling more pain. 

“Please Sir I can’t take it.” your face scrunched up as the burn started to slowly fade.

“Oh but you can, and you will” he smiled showing those rainbow eyes. Looking into them almost had you in a trance, you didn’t realize that he began moving as you stared so deeply into his eyes. It wasn’t until a sharp snap of his hip that brought you to your sense. With every stroke he was slow but sharp, letting you feel every inch that he had to offer.  Taking your hands and pinning them above your head, he began adjusting the pace. Things had gone from slow and sharp to a new pace of fast and rough. Each thrust was jagged, snapping so harshly into you as if he wanted to rip you in half. Your breast bounced at each thrust, the bed creaked loudly through the room, and the only sound left would be the sound of your squelching cunt that filled the room with its wetness.

“Fuck, you’re so tight I could barely fit still.”

“Gonna stretch you out nice and good just for me.”

“My hell you’re so fucking wet’“

You whined as his fast rough pace began puncturing your insides, you could feel every inch of him within the deepest parts of your stomach. Your cunt swallowed him whole, as it had been stretched as if it had been perfectly molded to his shape. He removed himself from you, once more finding yourself being flipped back onto all fours. He pushed you back down creating the perfect arch for him, allowing himself to push deeply back into you, The burning was still there as his raw flesh met your soft spongy walls. He dug himself deep into you, the deepest you’ve felt him go so far. He lowered his body, his chest resting on your back as he wrapped his hands around your lower waist slamming himself deep into you. You gripped the sheets under you, as a new wave of please came over your body.

“Sir please” you called out eyes shut tight body barely can hold on much longer. He licked at your ear, whispering a bunch of sweet nothings. 

“Who would’ve ever thought that fucking an angel would be this easy? Oh, I have to tell the other uppermoons.” he chuckled body still pressed deep into yours. Uppermoons? What..

“Demons and angels aren’t supposed to be together but I think we fight together perfectly like two missing puzzle pieces.” Demon...? He was a demon?

“Oh don’t tell me you really couldn’t tell. How sad, the big scary demon just devoured the poor innocent angel. What are the odds you let a demon not only fuck you but take your first time?” he laughed not missing a single thrust. 

“Don’t tell me you like that, your clamping down on me mighty tight” Your face flushed with shock so many emotions ran through your head. 

“Don’t worry, your Lord Douma will take good care of you.”  he snapped his hips sharply one last time enough to push you over the edge. You felt his own bodily fluid mix with yours, invading your intimate areas. He pulled himself out of you, laying your body down softly. He propped himself up staring at you with those rainbow eyes once more, this time a kanji symbol appearing in them. How can you be so dense, sadly to say you kinda liked it?