#sanemi imagine

[whirlybirbs]

— MOONBEAM ; SANEMI ; 実弥

summary: you & shinazugawa have a score to settle, but you never did agree on the stakes, did you? pairing: sanemi shinazugawa / f!reader ; retired hashira word count: 4.7k tags: rated t+, mutual pining, drinking games, romanticization of everything in sight, sun and moon tropes, reader is a hashira, reader is missing her arm, cool prosthetics are my shit, sanemi can be nice when he wants, sanemi has no idea how to be touched, ranging hashira appearances for comedic impact a/n: i love this eyebrow-less fuck. let him be kissed. and pegged, probably.

"Another round."

Someone is going to die tonight. 

Someone is definitely going to die tonight, and no one even seems remotely concerned aside from Tanjiro Kamado, the designated sake pourer. 

H-He shouldn't even be here! 

Wrong place, wrong time, but Mr. Shinazugawa might kill him if he said no to the barked order of fetching sake for the drinking game. 

I mean — sure, sure. You're both Hashiras. Or, well, you were a Hashira. The Light Hashira. The Light Hashira who was forcefully retired as of last year due to losing your right arm facing down an Upper Moon. 

The entire room is packed with fellow rank-and-file members, and with each downed glass of sake, there's a raucous roar of cheers. 

Sanemi Shinazugawa thought this was going to be an easy win. 

After all, you're little Miss Perfect. Delicate and polite and demure, and always so well-mannered, and oh so soft-spoken. 

You may be retired, but you still serve the Demon Slayer Corp, working to rehab injuries just like your own. Your estate is the secondary stop after the Butterfly Mansion for many members who have lost limbs — your prosthetics are state-of-the-art. The custom, mobility aids have changed the lives of men and women who thought they'd never bounce back.

It's beautiful, really.

Just like you, Sanemi laments.

Your silver kimono is faultlessly pressed; the wisteria blossoms embroidered into your obi glimmer in the lantern light of the dining hall. That wisteria hairpin keeping your hair up and out of your face makes his stomach churn. He wants to yank it out of your hair and throw it across the room. He wants to see you... undone. Any less perfect than usual.

It's driving him insane.

You're on your fifth cup of sake. You hold the bottom, tilt it back, and finish it with a slow, thankful nod directed toward Tanjiro. The ceramic prosthetic of your right arm tinkers gently against the cup. Delicate. Poised. Perfect.

Sanemi's lip snarls.

"Oh come on—"

"Another round, if you would, Mr. Kamado."

You slip Sanemi a leveled look through heavy lashes. 

The Wind Hashira is drunk. There's no denying it. You can see the hot flush creeping up his chest, peeking out from the top of his undone uniform. There are his scars, and then there is a flush. It's cute. 

He's always been cute.

More than cute, recently. Handsome. Insufferable in every single way possible, but handsome. 

Rumor has it he's quite the gentleman, too, if you believe the girls over at the Butterfly Mansion. The youngest three seem partial to him — hailing him with an unbridled sense of respect (and infatuation).

"You've gotta be kidding me," he grits out as he runs a calloused palm down his face; he's sweating. He's hot. It's hot in here. Maybe it's the sake. Whatever. Sanemi lets out an exhausted sigh, "There's no way." 

There's a little crack — a tiny, sliver of a crack in your usual placid composure. Sanemi swears he sees a smirk. It's gone before his hazy vision can memorize it. 

"Shinazugawa," you breathe as Tanjiro worriedly pours another cup of sake for you both; your voice is punctuated with repose that dares to lightly mock, "Are you saying you can't continue?"

There's an edge to your voice — a slight slur. The only indication that you have been keeping up, drink-to-drink with him. 

The room coos a goading little cheer. They egg him on. 

Sanemi's eyes narrow dangerously. His eyelashes are quite pretty, you muse. The whole of him is. Scarred and rugged and always so tough...

"Oh, please. You think I'm going to tap out?" he shirks, slamming back the freshly poured sake with reckless abandon. Best to go fast. If he slows down, it's all going to catch up to him. That's five. You're both tied, "I'm not losing to you." 

Your cup pauses, right about to meet painted lips. There's the smirk again. Then:

"Break it up! Curfew started ten minutes ago!" 

You recognize it as Obanai's voice. 

Sanemi's eyes flick to your face, then to the door beyond the gaggle of swordsmen and Kakushi. You're pouting. The interruption has brought a wave of groans and chattered disappointment. 

Sanemi grits his jaw. You mirror his expression.

He wasn't done. 

You weren't done. 

You both concede with scowls on your face. 

No one died. 

Which is great! 

Except that was before, and this is now. Tanjiro winces sharply at the escalating volume of Mr. Shinazugawa's voice across the courtyard. 

"Rematch!" he's shouting at you as you cross the courtyard; a picture of elegance and grace. You've got a large wooden box in your arms. No doubt the delivery of a new prosthetic. 

You glide across the gravel, head held high. 

Perfect. Even in this fuckin' heat. 

Sanemi's jacket is in the grass — every recruit around him is winded. Seems they've begun another training regime. The summer heat beats down your neck as you rake your eyes across his figure. You watch a bead of sweat run down his temple.

"Name the place, Shinazugawa," you throw his way flippantly; Tanjiro can see you're not afraid of Sanemi and it's confusing, "You'll have your rematch."

"Tonight. Same place. M' not loosin' this time, Lady Hashira." 

He hates your laugh. He hates how fucking pretty it is — how soft and light it is, like a bell, like a breeze against his skin. 

Fuck.

You're so pretty. So kind — so... fuckfuckfuck. 

Tanjiro is definitely going to die. Mr. Shinazugawa has never gone this hard on them before, like, ever. This is bad. This is so bad. A wooden sword strike rattles the bones in his hands, pain echoing up his wrists, as he blocks a whirlwind of frustrated attacks.

He's going to die.

Obanai figures this is exactly how this would go.

It is Sanemi after all. The Wind Hashira is worse than himself. At least he can talk to Mitsuri without acting like it was the world's biggest inconvenience... 

Sanemi is not exactly subtle. The pent-up frustration is—

Oh. 

Oh, you're into it. 

Sanemi misses it, but Obanai is watching the rematch from the far table — he was trying his best to mind his business as he eats. The Serpent Hashira can see the way your eyes linger on the Wind Hashira whenever he might not be looking. 

Sanemi tips his head back, as he downs his cup of sake. Obanai notices your gaze.

There's something heavy about the way you take Shinazugawa in. Something... adoring. 

Well, shit.

Tanjiro Kamado's voice wavers as he throws a leg over the bench and settles to sit beside Obanai. 

"Are you sure... this is allowed?" the auburn-haired swordsman laughs nervously as he clutches the designated sake refill bottle, "I mean curfew is soon—"

"Did I say you could sit here?"

Great.

He's going to die.

And this time it's Obanai's stare that's going to do it.

Giyu is the one to enforce the curfew that night. It ends the same. Five drinks even. Sanemi almost kills the Water Hashira, and you smirk as you gather yourself up and retire for the evening. 

Giyu doesn't get it.

"Why entertain this?" he asks the next morning, juggling the large order of birch wood in his arms; you'd asked for his help, and truth be told he was always partial to you. You were kind and easy to talk to. Giyu's voice is level, "He's a brute."

You have a large box in your arms — your second piece of the week. This time, a knee-jointed leg prosthetic made from boxwood. It's for that young swordsman, Hime. 

"I don't mind him," you offer lightly.

Giyu doesn't get it. 

"He's loud," he challenges.

"He has a nice voice," you muse back, falling in step with the Water Hashira.

"He's rude."

"He cares not what others think of him."

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?" Giyu shirks, his lip curling a bit in distaste.

"I think so," you softly reply, slipping Giyu a sly look, "I find it charming."

"Is that what this is about, then?" he asks suddenly, almost tripping over his own feet. The gravel beneath his feet crunches, "Finding him... charming?" 

"...And what if it is?"

Giyu really doesn't fucking get it. 

The Water Hashira is quiet for a long time after that, but the silence is comfortable. You don't mind it. It's just the sounds of summer along the path and the soft footfalls of their steps. 

Then:

"He likes red bean paste mochi," Giyu mutters, "Tanjiro told me."

The parcel lands on his lap. 

He's trying to meditate. He's trying to think about anything other than you — anything other than your smile, your laugh, the way you wear your hair, or the way you say his name. 

Irritation cracks his placid expression.

His lavender eyes are still shut. 

His lips curl into a snarl. "Do you mind?" 

"A little something," comes your soft voice; you're standing before him, your hands clasped in front of you. Oh so proper, "for our next rematch."

Sanemi's eyes fly open. 

The sun is like a halo around your silhouette. Framed by blue sky, it's like staring at an angel. You're so fucking beautiful, it feels like someone's rammed his very own nichirin right through his heart. 

He swallows roughly.

"...What is this?" he grovels hoarsely. 

Skepticism softens into a fading sense of annoyance. Sanemi's eyes flick downward, eyeing the meticulously wrapped parcel on his lap. The handkerchief around the bento is... yours. It's clearly a scrap from your old Haori. He'd know the pattern anywhere. In the dark, even. In his dreams, always.

"Red bean mochi," you say slowly, tilting your head; your voice is coaxing, "Is that not your favorite...?"

You swear his eyes widen a mile. 

What a pretty sight.

Sanemi's lip twitches. He's hesitant to reach out and even touch the box. "...Who told you?"

You shrug. Your expression is light and playful. "Would it matter?"

"I need to know who I should kill," he grits out.

"If you don't want it—"

Sanemi snatches the box up. You'll have to pry it from his cold, dead hands. Handmade, fresh red bean paste mochis? From you? He'd rather die than give this up. 

You wet your lips, the gesture an attempt to hide your growing grin. You drop your gaze and idly fiddle with a sleeve. 

There's a tense moment of silence. Then, his voice rumbles out like a summer thunderstorm:

"Tonight. Rematch."

"Same time?" you ask brightly, already beginning to walk backward down the path. 

Sanemi watches, his eyes glued to your face. "I'm going to win."

"You can try, Sanemi Shinazugawa."

You might lose.

You — ha! 

You might just lose. 

You decidedly blame Mitsuri and Shinobu. They're laughing — and pouring a lot more than poor Tanjiro did. You aren't even that angry about it, because Sanemi looks so damn proud of himself and it's adorable. 

Your tongue is loose. Your posture is slipping. 

Sanemi's never seen something hotter. 

He's going to suffer for this tomorrow — he knows that. He's on his seventh cup, his smirk mingling by the edge of the sake as you drop your head and giggle at something Mitsuri says. 

Your eyes find his. You look so... beautiful. 

The other Hashira have stolen their sips from the jug. Not that either of you mind. You're both locked in your own little game. The others have drifted out to the engawa, sitting in the warm summer evening air. 

Stolen glances between you both bleed into decidedly light banter. 

"You're slipping," he chirps; his expression betrays his words. He's gone soft, "Keep up."

You lean forward onto the table, chin propped up in your hand. You lazily finish the sake in your cup while raking your eyes across his chest and neck and shoulders and face. All of him. 

Openly.

"Haven't you heard the story of the tortoise and the hare, Shinazugawa?"

"Sanemi," he corrects as gently as a man like Sanemi can, ignoring the way his heart skips a beat when your smile cracks just a little bit wider, a little bit looser.

The ceramic cup tinkers against the wooden table as you place it down.

"Sanemi," you sigh back — testing the sound of it — and he wonders if this is some sort of dream. You let your head lull to the other side as you take another sip, "Right."

He lifts his drink to his lips. He hesitates for a second; you trace the line of his jaw with your eyes. 

"Thank you," he says suddenly — and your expression clouds with momentary confusion. That's how he knows you're drunk. You're usually so sharp, so fast. Your wit is like the crack of a whip. Sanemi clarifies before downing his seventh cup, "For the mochi."

Fucking hell.

That smile.

He's never seen someone so fuckin' beautiful before. Light Hashira be damned. You're an angel. You're the sort of woman men throw themselves on their swords for. He gets it. He'd rage a thousand wars if it meant a kiss. He'd even take a slap. Maybe a punch. Anything. 

Fuck. 

Make him bleed. 

You sway a bit as he places his empty cup down sharply. 

"Were they good?"

"Best I've ever had," he admits; he's being honest. 

You feel like you're in battle again. There's an adrenaline rush beneath your skin. Seeing him so... soft. Maybe the girls had a point. Maybe he is a gentleman when he wants to be. Sanemi is being sweet. Must be the sake. 

You let that lovely realization sit in your chest for a moment longer before dragging your eyes away from the Wind Hashira. 

Shinobu is nowhere to be found. 

Mitsuri has relieved herself from her role as designated inebriatior.

She's on the engawa, enjoying the breeze, fingers inching close to Obanai's. The other Hashira — Giyu and Rengoku and Tengen included — seem more interested in the stars hanging in the warm evening air than the competition beyond the open sliding doors.

He clears his throat. You draw your attention back to him.

He's been watching you.

"Do you concede?"

"No, not yet," you admit. Your chin is perched on your hand again, "I suppose I still have another drink in me." 

You watch as he moves, then. He stands and moves across the room to fetch the jug of sake perched by the door. You follow him with your eyes, tracing the line of his figure. He moves with less grace and with more carelessness. The jug swings from his fingers by the twine handle as he returns to your side.

He settles on his knees to your left. 

Sanemi's grin is devilish. Sharp. Handsome. His ashen hair falls in his eyes as he pours himself his next round. "Now, now, Lady Hashira, only one?"

He's so close, you can feel his breath on your neck. His voice makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Shinazugawa leans, scarred knuckles hesitating to pour your eighth cup. His scarred brow quirks in a quiet challenge. He stills himself and waits for your reply, only to smirk when you lazily wave a porcelain hand his way. Go on. 

"Perhaps two with the way you pour," you bite, eyeing the conservative amount of sake that spills into your ceramic cup, "Trying to spare me a loss?"

"Mind your mouth," he warns, rattling the near-empty jug. He tosses his cup back easily before settling back on his haunches. He snaps the cup down on the table and exhales.

Sanemi feels exposed. Moving closer was a bold move.

It's the way you're looking at him.

He watches as a piece of hair falls from your meticulous up-do — undone by the heat and drink — and he feels his entire chest lurch with need.

You're smiling in that honeyed way as you take a slow sip of this round's cup. Your words are slow like molasses on your tongue. "...We never settled on the stakes of this bet, Shinazugawa."

Sanemi is staring at that piece of hair kissing your cheekbone. His expression is less intense than usual, but there's still a burn there. However, it is not rage nor ire. It's something else — something that you're too blind and sake-adled to name. 

"Your hairpin."

He answers it easily without pause or hesitation.

Your painted lips quirk as your eyes flash to his. He sees a question flash behind your eyes but you allow it to slip by, unasked. You watch him cross his wide arms over his chest as if to shield himself from any ill reaction.

Without a word, Sanemi watches you tug the long, silver hairpin from your hair. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

He's never seen you like this before — never, not even in battle. Your hair tumbles free in mussed strands wanting to bend and bow in the humid summer air. 

Sanemi's mouth runs dry as you slip the metal pin between your fingers and offer it. Your eyes are heavy-lidded and you sway a bit as you hand it over.

"Does this mean I've won?" he croaks. His calloused fingers brush yours as he takes the pin into his hands. It's heavier than he anticipated. The intricate amythest wisteria ornaments tinker in his palm as he turns it over.

You tip the last sip of sake back down your throat. 

Then, you shake your head no. 

"Had you asked," you slip out, dotingly pouring him yet another cup; you mirror the action and fill your own, "I would have simply given it to you."

Sanemi swallows.

You watch him as you eye your ninth cup.

You're drunk. Very drunk. Drunk enough that you fail to see the slack-jawed awe sucker-punched across Sanemi's face.

"What will you ask of me, then?" he dares to utter, realizing that this game ended a long time ago — that this is no longer about winning. Maybe it was never about winning at all, Sanemi realizes rather suddenly, but he doesn't dare linger on the thought you may just enjoy his company. 

No one enjoys his company.

He is a bastard. He is a brute. He is horrible and crude and scathingly stubborn. He is not kind, well-spoken, or patient. He's none of the things he sees in you. He is ever bit your opposite — you are the light that breaks through the clouds, and he is the wind that bites.

The idea of drinking another cup of sake makes his head swim.

"...Truthfully? I had not thought that far."

Your voice is small. Sanemi watches the way your porcelain hand stills against the cup. The confession stirs those white-hot feelings in his chest again. He barks out a rough laugh that sounds more like a wheeze than anything.

Then, he pushes his cup across the table. Your eyes widen, and Sanemi is shocked to realize his pride allows him this.

He concedes.

He has his prize, after all. He tucks your hairpin into his jacket, in a pocket beside his heart, before rapping his knuckles upon the wood of the table. 

The Wind Hashira lacks his usual amount of grace as he stumbles to his feet. 

He bends like a birch in the wind, then pushes that strand of hair from your cheek.

"Think on it, then, Lady Hashira," he rasps, "You win."

Tanjiro isn't the only one who notices that Mr. Shinazugawa has been in a better mood lately. 

Training hasn't been nearly as disastrous. The Wind Hashira has even begun offering pointers rather than beaten-in instruction. The ashen-haired man has some sort of reason for being... gentler. It's almost as if his mind is elsewhere.

Obanai notices, which means Mitsuri pries it out of him, which means Shinobu is told over tea, which means Tengen hears about it from Rengoku who hears it from the three youngest Butterfly Mansion servants and proceeds to tell Tokito one evening in the onsen. 

The steam hangs heavy in the air, and Giyu's head is tipped back against the cool stone. 

Tokito, dipped low and deep to nearly his nose in the baths, listens with interest to Tengen babble on. The Sound Hashira is stumped.

"I mean, c'mon, I love him, but the guy is never in a good mood," Uzui mutters as he flicks at a drifting maple leaf atop the water, "And suddenly it's sunshine and rainbows?"

"Hardly," Tokito murmurs.

Rengoku wrinkles his nose and agrees with the Mist Hashira. "I do not believe sunshine and rainbows are within Shinazugawa's purview."

"I'm being hyperbolic," Tengen stresses.

Giyu sighs loudly.

The heads of those present turn towards him owlishly.

He doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks.

"It's her," he states plainly, "Our Lady Light Hashira."

And it is, isn't it?

It becomes painfully apparent.

Even Kagaya Ubuyashiki, whose eyes may not see as they once did, notices — he can feel the weight of something sweet in the air when he calls the Hashira together for a meeting in the early afternoon.

...It makes him smile.

A bird chirps and the sound of a breeze slips through the leaves in the courtyard. The sun is hot on the curve of your knee, beneath your kimono.

You are in the back of the room, hands folded neatly in your lap. 

Your hair hangs across your shoulders. 

Your eyes have not once left Sanemi's back.

He sits rigid and perfect, his nichirin laid before him. 

And then, as the meeting breaks, he dares turn his cheek. Lavender eyes connect with yours only for a second. Then, the room moves, but you stay there on that floor, watching him move gracefully as he sheathes his sword. His jacket parts and you spy the ornament of wisteria flash beneath his breast pocket. 

Your breath catches.

The others pretend not to see as he steps down from the engawa, turning his attention to you once more as he squints in the sun.

"Have you decided?" he asks.

"No," you reply softly, poised as usual.

Sanemi snorts through his nose like a bull; his words may be grating but his tone betrays it. "Fine then. Be indecisive."

The others pretend not to see his smile, nor the bashful way you duck your head as he retreats towards the grass where the recruits have gathered. 

But, Kagaya Ubuyashiki needs not to pretend.

He smiles.

He finds you in the garden, after dinner.

You've made a habit of walking the quiet paths in the evenings while the Ubuyashiki Mansion is quiet and calm. Here, while the sun slips away and the moon chases her kiss, you can linger among the wisteria and their weeping blooms. 

Your getas still upon the gravel.

"I've decided, I think."

Your voice is softer than the petals that drift through the air.

Sanemi, from behind the largest tree, steps into view.

His arms are crossed. He is without his nichirin. 

He ambles closer, his attention drifting to the sky seeped in reds and pinks and purples. The moon is full, and it spills out gilded light that makes your silver kimono glow. You look as if you belong here — among the beauty and calm and peace.

"Yea?" he rasps in reply, realizing you've turned on your heel to face him fully, "Go on then, Lady Hashira. I'm not a patient man. I've waited long enough."

His words lack any sort of real bite. 

(He would wait a thousand years more if it meant hearing you ask of him anything. He'd do it, too. Over and over, as many times as you ask. Anything. For you.)

You venture closer. His eyes are still turned to the sky and the wisteria petals that swirl like clouds.

You spy your hairpin.

Wordlessly, you reach for it.

His hand snatches your wrist and halts it — at first, the movement is rough. It's as if Sanemi forgets what a touch from another can be, what it's like. You exhale, and his calloused fingers loosen their hold. He sets his jaw, and his thumb ghosts along your wrist in silent apology.

Then, you smile.

And you slip your hand down and into his own. 

And, fucking shit, Sanemi doesn't know what the fuck to do with himself with you take one step closer. There's a small voice in the back of his mind telling him to fucking run, telling him to escape this fate — because he's already in too deep, isn't he? He's drowning, and now you're holding his hand. You're going to be the fucking death of him. 

"Is this," he swallows tightly, "What you decided on?"

Hand holding?

"Am I allowed to ask for more, Shinazugawa?"

"Sanemi," he corrects under his breath, his pupils bouncing from your eyes to your mouth. It isn't an answer. 

You take another step forward, and your smile is slow.

"Sanemi," you nod and rectify yourself as you look up at the Hashira, "Am I?"

He looks terrified — and then your porcelain palm touches his cheek.

"I told you," you swear his voice shakes as he turns his cheek and pulls away, "I am not a patient man—"

"A kiss."

Lavender eyes widen, and Sanemi swears he fuckin' dreamt it. 

There's a beat of apprehension — like you're both staring down the precipice. Like you're both one step from hurdling head-first into the crashing waves below. There's only one moment of it though, and it's long enough for both of your breaths to be stolen by the leap.

He knocks the wind out of you.

You suppose there's something poetic about that, him being the Wind Hashira and all.

At first, the kiss is rough. It's as if Sanemi forgets what a kiss from another can be, what it's like.

It's desperate, you realize, as Sanemi's calloused hands thread themselves to cradle your face. His teeth knock yours and his nose butts your own and you all but gasp as you stagger on your getas. It doesn't matter, because you're in his hold — and he won't let you fall. 

Not now, not ever.

One step backward, and then another. And another.

Your back meets the bark of the wisteria. 

The moon finally kisses the sun.

His chest heaves as his hand lands above your head, bracing himself over you. His other hand doesn't dare leave your cheek. It threatens to creep into your hair, to wind your further, to see you undone. 

When he pulls his eyes open, he realizes he has achieved it. 

Finally. Fucking finally. 

Your kimono has slipped further down your shoulder, your obi loosened by the act of being pinned to the tree. Your hair is mussed, your lips parted and near bruised. 

To Sanemi, you're more perfect than you've ever looked like this.

He kisses you again.

And this time, it's nearly chaste.

You sigh into the kiss, and your fingers shake as they come to settle over the patch of bare, scarred skin on his chest. 

His lips are nimble and the pad of his thumb traces the curve of your cheek. It's a gentleness you never thought possible of Sanemi Shinazugawa. You never expected it. 

He is like the wind, then.

Biting and harsh, or soft and beautiful.

You kiss him for a long time, there, beneath the wisterias in the growing dark — like teenagers, like these were moments you were never afforded. There are hardly any words shared, only breathless little laughs between bitten lips and wandering hands. 

It's when the lanterns are lit that Sanemi finally pulls himself away.

You're smiling — and you're a mess.

Soft and disheveled and twining your fingers with his.

That's when someone's voice cuts across the courtyard, calling for curfew.

[silvermarley]

can u do Sanemi or giyuu fucking reader stupid because she said his scar or eyes were beautiful

Love this idea 🫶🫶 this seems more on the Sanemi side of things, so I’m gonna do him!! :)

Beauty in Your Scars

Sanemi x Reader

Warnings: smut, rough (but passionate), cursing, unprotected sex, fem!reader, modern-ish but demon slaying is still a thing, a hint of a breeding kink, dirty talk

WC: 2.8k (I got carried away)

Sanemi isn’t the type to receive compliments often, as his appearance intimidates most resulting in him not getting used to them. Even when he got with you, he became a flustered mess.

His scars were something that pushed most away. He was by no means ashamed of them, but he didn’t exactly find them the most appealing either.

Sanemi did like the fear that came with them though, and how even some demons would hesitate to attack just looking at them.

You two have been together for over a year, and you hadn’t yet talked about his scars. You didn’t know if it was a touchy subject or anything, so you never pushed.

Even so, you couldn’t help but admire the way it makes him look so much more masculine. Something about them never failed to attract you more. That being said, it wasn’t good seeing new ones when he would come home from a particularly difficult mission.

You were a retired demon slayer, so you understood getting injured comes with the job, even if it wasn’t ideal. Although, it’s not too often he gets injured because of his immense power and skill in wind breathing.

You were “retired” because after Sanemi had gotten attached to you, he quickly began insisting you leave the corps. Saying “it’s for your own good,” or anything he could think of to get you to leave. Eventually, you did. And he couldn’t be happier (he would never tell you that though).

Now, he gets to do the dirty work while his beloved stays at home and greets him when he comes back. Although you two have been together for a long time, he still struggles at expressing his love, so he can come off as strong sometimes. Not that you mind.

One afternoon, he comes home after a stressing mission. “I’m home.” He calls out as usual.

You peek from around the corner of the hallway and walk to him. “Hey, ‘Nemi! How did your mission go?”

He grunts, placing his katana in its place on the wall. “Fucking stressful.” He sighs, his voice laced with frustration.

Though, he couldn’t stay upset when he was finally home. When he finally gets to see you. The one who then kiss his cheek in response, “Ah.. sorry to hear that. Do you want me to make your favorite?” You grin.

The corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly as he nods. When he’s upset, he becomes more quiet as to avoid saying something he would regret to you. If there was anyone he would never want to hurt with his attitude, it’s you. He finds his way into the living room and with a (what felt like a) heavy body, he plops onto the couch.

You happily go into the kitchen to gather the materials for ohagi. You knew the recipe like the back of your hand at this point. It was your favorite thing to do for him after his missions.

After making it, you place them on a plate and make it look presentable. You hum to yourself, before carrying it to where Sanemi was sitting.

“Here you go!” You hand it over to him and then sit yourself next to him.

He quickly takes a bite and sighs contentedly. He can’t help his small but noticeable smile as he chows down on the food. You just cuddled up next to him, occasionally looking up to admire him. The show on tv wasn’t all too interesting to you now as you were enamored by his beauty even while eating.

Once he finished his meal, he placed the plate to the side table. “It’s always good.” He remarks as he moves his hand to your waist, pulling you closer to his side.

“‘m glad you think so.” You manage to snap yourself out of it as you reply.

He looks down at you as you stare at him. “Something wrong?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Just admiring you.”

His cheeks turned a rosy hue. “..Is that so?” He cleared his throat.

“Mhm,” you say as your hands trace some of the scars on his arm, “I was just thinking about how beautiful these make you look.”

There’s silence from him for a moment. As you glanced up once more to see if you said something wrong, you see something in his demeanor had changed. “..’Nemi?”

His grip tightens on your waist. “Don’t say things like that all of a sudden..” he muttered.

You caught on to his tone, how it was warning you, not just telling you. “Why? It’s true.. they’re pretty.” You assured.

He mumbles a “Fuck..” as he is suddenly on top of you, breathing heavily with a prominent blush on his cheeks. “I warned you, didn’t I?” His eyes were cloudy as he spoke with a sensual voice. Hearing your praise for his scars did something to him.

With a bite of your lip, you stare up at him. “Mhm.. but I really do think so.” You shuddered as his rough palms grazed your sides.

His lips quickly met yours in a heated kiss. Your tongues danced with passion as he pushed his hips into yours. Your words were playing with fire. He wanted to hear them over and over. Something about you saying that made him feel hot all over.

As soon as you part for breath, his lips are latched on your neck. Dark hickeys were made in every spot he kissed. After properly marking your neck, he makes quick work of your shirt, to which he takes the new exposed skin into his mouth to make more marks. While doing so, his hands glide to unclip your (f/c) bra. You lifted yourself slightly to allow him to so.

He groans at the sight of your perked up nipples. He throws your bra across the room, turning his attention back to you. “Perfect..” He murmurs.

His tongue swirls around one nipple, before sucking and repeating the process. Then he pays some attention to the other. The stimulation just from this made soft gasps escape your mouth. That only fueled the ever growing fire.

A few minutes pass, and he pulls away from your chest. His fingers skillfully pull down your pants with haste. His cock twitches in his pants at the sight of your panties, and the patch of your desire that was making it stick to your pussy.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy.. you know that?” He inquires with a lustful stare, but he wasn’t expecting an answer. Especially when you know it.

His thumbs rub your waist as he studied your already dazed expression. He hums, as his gaze falls back to your clothed core. He’s hit with the urge to taste you, to make you come undone with his tongue. And he’s not a patient man. He takes what he wants. And right now, he wants nothing more than to taste your essence.

He was already patient enough to take everything else off of you, but he couldn’t stop himself from tearing the panties you still had on off of you. He wouldn’t hear the end of it later, but he didn’t care. As soon as your wet pussy is exposed to him, his tongue begins to explore it.

Just the taste of you has his mind reeling. He licks and sucks at your clit messily. Pulling whine after whine from you. It was almost like he wasn’t doing this for you anymore. Your hands tug at his wild white hair as you mewl in pleasure.

“Just l-like that ‘Nemi—ah..—feels so good.” You moan, slightly bucking your hips up to get more friction. From the stimulation of his tongue alone, it has your back arching.

Soon, he pushes a thick finger into your entrance, pumping it in and out in tune with his actions on your clit. You couldn’t control your voice as it increased in volume, especially not when he adds another. His mind felt fuzzy as he lapped at you and fucked you with his fingers.

Sanemi still had your compliment in mind as he brought you to cloud nine. He didn’t care how messy he would get from this, he just wanted you to cum on his face. Your sweet moans only encouraged him to bring you to the brink faster.

Your pussy tightens around his fingers as you feel yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. A few more movements of his hands had you cumming all over his face and fingers. He greedily licked you clean as you twitched in overstimulation.

He lifts himself up once more. You see the bottom half of his face covered in your juices and his own saliva, causing you to blush more from embarrassment. He notices, smirking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Still think I’m beautiful?” He questions. You look away from him, in a sudden sense of bashfulness. His eyes never leaves your face as he demands an answer. “Look at me. Tell me baby, do you think I still look pretty?” His breathing quickens once again at his own words.

Your eyes slowly return back up to his as you nod. “Mhm.. so pretty.” Without a doubt, he was prettier in your eyes now than before. Even with the bottom of his face still glistening with your essence.

He mutters a few curses before undressing himself as fast as he could. You ogle his well built figure, scarred and sculpted from years of slaying demons. No matter how many times you see it, you’re still just as enamored.

Normally, he would poke fun at you for staring at him, but he wanted to be in you, and he wanted it badly. He hovers over you again, peering down to grab hold of his leaking cock. He rubs himself against you a few times, until he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He needed to feel the warmth, and he needed it now.

He slips inside you, which is made easy by his prep and the wetness seeping out of your cunt. He lets out a husky groan as he slowly pushes in. The delicious stretch as he filled you up made you squeeze around him. He hisses, and grips tightly underneath your knees to gradually push them to your chest. This only made him push deeper into you, almost making you forget to breathe.

A mutual moan is shared as he bottoms out. After a moment, he pulls back his hips to slam into you again, knocking the air out of you once again. Your hands frantically move to his shoulders.

“Fuck.. pussy’s squeezin’ me tight..” he groans. His mind felt foggy from lust and the feeling of you around him. Never has he felt this pussy whipped. Did your words have more of an effect than he originally thought? Of course it did. Such a compliment coming from your pretty lips; Moreover about his scars, had him reeling from the start.

He continues to thrust deep into you, hitting places you didn’t think he could reach. Everything felt.. different this time. You’d never seen this man act like this over something so simple.

Each thrust had you letting out whines and moans, and you could feel every bit of his cock as it slid in and out of you. Each movement was deep and fast. As if he was a dog in heat. As if he were in a rut, and you were the only person who could help him through it. The pleasure you felt from it was almost too much. Your nails dug into his scarred shoulders, earning a grunt from him. His lip was tucked under his teeth, though he wasn’t going to let you hear just how desperate he was. But god, did it feel so good.

“K-Keep going.. plea—ah! Please, ‘Nemi!” You whimper, your back arching more as you felt yourself get closer by the second.

“Yeah? Just like this?” He smirks as he was loving the sight underneath him. You losing yourself in pleasure, face contorting into an expression he adores after a long day like this.

“Fuck! Y-yes..” you respond in broken moans, clenching on him.

He bit his lip harder. It wasn’t normal for him to get close already. But your pussy was gripping him like a vice each and every time he hit that one spot that had your eyes rolling back.

Before you could warn him of your incoming release, you saw white as you made a mess on his cock. Sanemi growled and let out a few low moans as he pushed into you a few more times before cumming himself. He kept his dick in you and bent down to catch his breath on your shoulder. “Shit..” he says between his scattered breaths.

The orgasm you both felt was powerful. And he wanted more. He wasn’t going to be satisfied with just one round. He craved to feel that again. Your hands fell to your sides as you recovered from cumming that hard.

That was, you were recovering from it. Because now, he was pushing you over on your stomach. You knew what he wanted so you braced yourself on your forearms and knees. You arched your back temptingly, which wasn’t missed by him. He slaps your ass, you were just too tempting and so pliant just for him. And he couldn’t wait to plunge into you again.

His cock forces its way into you again, and he wastes no time in fucking you again with conviction. He was once again fast and desperate in the way he moved his hips. “C-Can’t get enough of this..” he murmurs into the back of your neck just as he pushes the top of his torso against your back. This, in turn, made him go further into you. His voice, still occasionally cracking from the intense overstimulation, continued to murmur dirty sentences into your ear.

You were still feeling sensitive from your last orgasm, and so was he, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to keep going. Your drenched and quivering hole sucked him in so perfectly, almost like it never wanted him to leave, so why would he stop now? “Fuck.. I can never control myself with you—shit— you’re fucking addicting..” he nearly whines in the back of your neck, as he sucks a purple hickey into it.

His words only helped to sink you further into euphoric depths of desire. It seemed like that little comment earlier took away any filter he usually had when you two fucked previously. Something about this really was different. More eager, and full of need along with an overwhelming sense of desperation.

Sanemi’s sloppy but deep thrusts, in addition to you already being sensitive, pushed you surprisingly quickly to the brink. To the point you couldn’t even warn him about it, just like before. He growled loudly as he felt you cum again. His mouth spilled out endless curses and downright nasty words as he bucked into your twitching pussy.

“T-Too sensitive, ‘Nemi!” You practically screamed as he kept hitting the same spot that has been making you see stars.

“Just a b-bit more.-agh..come on baby..” He leans further down on you, his firm chest hitting your back completely. His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head as he rolled his hips into you wildly. Your eyes watered, feeling his hips stutter in their thrusts until he bursts inside you for the second time. It warms your insides as it fills you to the brim, and then leaks out down your thighs.

The both of you catch your breath for a few minutes until he pulls himself out. This causes more of his seed to drip out from your hole at the emptiness. You fall flat on your stomach out of exhaustion. Meanwhile, his eyes were enraptured by the view of it all. He was tempted in that moment to go again, but he held that back for now. Maybe at a later time would he do it, but jesus, was it tempting..

Sanemi’s hands rub your lower back and ass comfortingly, which he then stops after you speak. “..I take it you like what I said earlier, huh?” You chucked breathlessly, watching as he laid beside you.

“Maybe a little too much.” He murmured, and you could see a hint of a blush on his cheeks. Totally different from the man who was just rearranging your insides.

You lips meet his in a short and gentle kiss. “Who knows, I might just say it more often..” you suggest playfully when you pull away.

His breath hitched for just a second. “I suggest you be careful with what you say..” his voice tinged with a teasing but demanding tone.

You giggled, your head moves to lay on his chest. Even with his attempted serious expression, his hands told a different story. They weaved through your hair softly. It was then that he wished this could last forever, a peaceful time where he’s not out there fighting. No demons, no annoying slayers to bother him, just the two of you in post-sex clarity and tranquility. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

[who-can-touch-my-boob]

<- Sanemi simp posts masterlist

I imagine that the way your relationship with Sanemi would take the next step is literally him being like.

“Yeah, well. We’re dating now. Deal with it.”

While blushing furiously and failing to maintain his tough guy exterior. He’d huff at your goofy grin, bright and sparkling eyes, responding with a halfhearted eye roll.

“Now hold my fucking hand before I change my mind, I-Idiot.”

He wouldn’t change his mind, never - not in a million year. And after stuttering out an ‘idiot’ he’d follow up with a shy whisper:

“My idiot…I love you, y’know?”

Sanemi would then hold your hand firmly, making sure nothing can come between you.

[togacaffe]

chapter two — #YNISTRENDING

IN WHICH a youtuber suddenly gets followed by a celebrity who happens to take quite an interest in her. turns out her close friend mentioned her and caught his interest

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST (OPEN) . . . @reiikonee @amisuh @rock-lol @boredoutofmymind247-blog @jiminscarmex @dephitarie @fullyproblematicstudent @hypernovaxx @sanemirights @ashuvric @chimcrim @celcero @atashiboba @feverish-dove

[wrxangel]

Hi!! Can I request obanai and sanemi (separate) x reader who's like mikan from Danganronpa? I saw your one with zenitsu, and I adored it! I also wanted to ask could you write about the reader falling into an awkward position (as mikan does) and like how the boys react to that, possibly some NSFW? *Wink wink*

Thank you! :D

Obanai Iguro and Sanemi Shinazugawa with Reader who acts like Mikan Tsumiki

I couldn't fit the NSFW part im sorryyyy!! but ill def write a separate nsfw part 2!

a/n: hell yea, I had a feeling y'all would like these "reader w ___ personality" type posts lol. hope you enjoy! feel free to send more requests ^w^ (edit: obanai is so damn hard to write for. sum1 dm me and explain the substance behind obamitsu😭)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡

Obanai Iguro

You were the other head medic of the Butterfly Estate, having trained and learned with Shinobu when the previous Insect Pillar, Kanae Kocho, was still around. After Shinobu rose up to claim the pillar position, you remained her right hand and became an unofficial field medic to the pillars during particularly risky missions.

You had trained hard to assist the pillars during missions, and when you first met Obanai, the air crackled with tension. He was a stoic man with a gaze that could cut through steel, and the way he held himself spoke of countless battles fought. But the moment you stuttered an introduction, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, he frowned in irritation, his annoyance palpable.

“I-I’m y-your medic,” you managed to stammer, and you could see the impatience flaring in his eyes. Your apologies spilled from your lips, each word making his frown deepen until he turned away, a low growl escaping him. It stung, and you wished you could disappear.

However, fate has a strange sense of humor. During the mission, while Obanai was distracted, a demon lunged at him from the shadows. Without thinking, you rushed forward, pushing him out of the way just in time. The creature’s claws grazed your arm, but you managed to stabilize Obanai before he could react.

“W-What are you doing?” he snapped, but the irritation faded as he realized what you had done. Your hands shook as you helped him back to his feet, but the moment of annoyance was gone, replaced with something more profound.

When the battle was over, you knelt beside him, quickly assessing the damage. You felt a surge of panic when you noticed the deep cut on his arm. “I-I’m so sorry you got hurt! I-I should’ve been more careful!” Your voice trembled, guilt washing over you as you cleaned and patched his wounds, tears brimming in your eyes. The shame of seeing him injured because of your reckless bravery crushed you.

Obanai watched you, his irritation melting away as he noticed the sincerity behind your tears. No one had cared for him like this before, and a strange warmth bloomed in his chest. “You… care that much?” he asked softly, and you nodded, wiping your eyes.

“I-I just feel so terrible! It’s my fault you were hurt!” You choked out, the sobs breaking free as you buried your face in your hands. But Obanai, surprisingly gentle, reached out, lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

“Stop that,” he said, his voice low but firm. “It’s not your fault.” As he spoke, his heart ached for you, realizing how deeply you felt for him. He didn’t want to see you in pain anymore, not for him or anyone else.

After the mission, things changed between you. Obanai became protective, his demeanor shifting from annoyance to a fierce desire to shield you from harm. He snarled at any man who dared to glance your way, and though it made you flustered, there was something reassuring in his possessiveness.

One fateful day, while you were tending to some recovering demon slayers at the estate, a series of unfortunate events unfolded. You were called over to offer refreshments, balancing a tray of cups and a jug of water. But as you approached, your foot caught on an exposed root, sending you tumbling forward.

“Ah!” you cried out, the tray flying from your hands. Water splashed everywhere, drenching your clothes and leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

Obanai happened to be walking by, his heart racing as he saw the scene unfold. His eyes widened in horror when he realized you were on the ground, soaked and in tears, surrounded by the gawking demon slayers. In an instant, he surged forward, covering you with his striped haori, his anger igniting like a wildfire.

“What the hell are you doing just standing there?” he roared at the onlookers, his voice echoing with fury. “Help her, damn it!” His protective instinct took over, and he began barking threats, ensuring everyone knew they would regret not assisting you.

As you sat up, shaking with humiliation, you felt your heart sink. “I-I’m s-sorry! I-I didn’t mean to cause a scene!” You cried, and the tears flowed freely down your cheeks, your embarrassment overwhelming. Obanai’s expression softened as he knelt beside you, his gaze fierce but filled with concern.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured you, his voice low and steady. “It’s okay.” He helped you to your feet, then led you inside the mansion, calling for Aoi to bring tissues and clean clothes.

“I just… I showed everyone such a horrifying, disgusting sight,” you sobbed, unable to meet his eyes.

His heart shattered at your words. “No,” he whispered, cupping your cheek with a tender hand. “You’re not disgusting. You’re everything to me. Those idiots outside don’t deserve to see you. I don’t even deserve to be in your presence.”

The weight of his words enveloped you, and you felt a flicker of hope amidst the shame. Obanai leaned in, placing gentle, bandaged kisses on your forehead, his touch igniting a warmth in your heart. “You are so much more than you realize. I want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

He didn't even feel worthy of you, feeling so undeserving because of his filthy blood. But he wanted to be your rock and make you see how he saw you. How you should see yourself. You were everything to him. And he wanted you to feel how much he cared for you, just as you had for him during your first mission together.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

You first met Sanemi during a training session at the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters. It was your first day, and nerves fluttered in your stomach like frantic butterflies. You had always been the type to trip over your own feet and fumble words in the presence of strangers. But you were determined to prove yourself.

“Sorry! I-I’m so sorry!” you squeaked as you awkwardly navigated through the bustling crowd of Demon Slayers. A knot formed in your stomach when you spotted Sanemi, standing at the edge, his aura both intimidating and electrifying. The moment you made eye contact, you felt a jolt, a mix of fear and awe. He was the Wind Hashira—intense, battle-hungry, and undeniably handsome, though his rough demeanor often overshadowed his features.

While trying to maneuver around him, your foot caught on an uneven stone, sending you tumbling forward. Your heart raced as you prepared for impact, but instead, you collided with his chest. “Oh, n-no! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—” you stammered, your cheeks heating up as you scrambled to your feet.

Sanemi’s expression shifted from surprise to irritation. “Watch where you’re going,” he snapped, though his tone lacked genuine malice. Beneath his sharp words, you sensed something softer—an unexpected flicker of concern hidden in the storm of his frustration.

“Y-yes! Of course! I’m so sorry!” you babbled, bowing your head repeatedly, half in embarrassment and half in desperation to escape his piercing gaze.

As you turned to leave, you heard a low, almost amused growl. “You should probably work on that clumsiness if you want to survive,” he called after you.

You nodded vigorously, your heart racing. “I will! I promise! I’m really trying!”

Days turned into weeks, and your encounters with Sanemi continued to be marked by awkwardness and your apologies. You found yourself drawn to him despite his abrasive nature. Each time you stumbled, each time you found yourself at the mercy of your own nerves, Sanemi was there, his sharp words cutting through the air but somehow comforting in their familiarity.

One day, during a sparring session, you were focused, determined to impress him. Sanemi had been pushing you harder than usual, wanting to test your limits. “Keep your guard up!” he barked, his voice a mix of frustration and encouragement.

You nodded vigorously, trying to keep your concentration. While practicing a series of footwork drills, you overcompensated on your pivot, losing your balance once again. You found yourself falling backward, arms flailing.

“Ah! Sanemi!” you shrieked as you fell, bracing for impact.

But instead of hitting the ground, you collided with him again. This time, your bodies tangled awkwardly, and before you knew it, you were both on the ground, his body pressing into yours. Your face felt like it was on fire, and all you could think about was how embarrassing this was.

“Get off me!” he growled, trying to extricate himself from the awkward position. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his usually composed demeanor faltered.

“I-I’m so sorry!” you babbled, scrambling to sit up and pushing him away gently. “I didn’t mean to! I swear I’m not trying to—”

Sanemi let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his spiky white hair. “You really need to watch your footing,” he grumbled, though there was an unmistakable hint of amusement in his eyes. “What are you trying to do, knock me out with your clumsiness?”

You felt a mix of embarrassment and a strange thrill at his playful jab. “I’m just... n-not very graceful!” you managed to mumble, feeling your heart flutter at his closeness.

As the days passed, the pattern continued. You would find yourself accidentally in compromising positions around him, and each time, his reactions grew softer, almost protective. During one particularly exhausting training session, you tripped while attempting a high kick. Instead of falling backward, you stumbled forward, colliding into Sanemi’s chest once more.

His arms wrapped around you instinctively, steadying you. “You really need to learn how to fall,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

“I-I’m so sorry! I’ll try harder!” you stammered, your heart racing as you looked up into his purple eyes. He looked down at you, an unreadable expression crossing his face.

“Just… don’t overthink it,” he replied, his voice softer than usual. “You’re too tense.”

The tension between you both grew with each clumsy encounter. You often caught him watching you when he thought you weren’t looking, a strange mix of annoyance and affection playing across his features.

One afternoon, while you were supposed to be practicing your forms, you miscalculated a step and stumbled forward, your sword slipping from your grasp. In a frantic attempt to catch it, you dove for it, but in doing so, you ended up rolling into Sanemi, who had been watching from the sidelines.

You both fell to the ground, you landing on top of him, your face hovering inches from his. His eyes widened in shock, and you could feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” you blurted, scrambling to get off him.

“Damn it,” he grumbled, his voice low and gravelly. But there was no anger in his eyes, only that familiar warmth that made your heart flutter.

“Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, a hint of amusement creeping into his tone as he propped himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“I—I don’t know!” you stuttered, flustered. “I really don’t mean to!”

A moment of silence hung between you, and for a second, you both just stared at each other. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the weight of his gaze sent your heart racing. Then, with an unexpected softness, he smiled. “Well, at least you make things interesting.”

You blinked, taken aback by the compliment. “Y-you think so?” you managed to ask, surprised by the warmth blooming in your chest.

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone lighter now. “Just try not to land on me next time.”

As your training continued, your unintentional falls turned into a source of connection between you two. Sanemi began to approach your mishaps with a level of patience you never thought he could possess. Whenever you stumbled, he would catch you, guiding you back to your feet with a smirk, making light of the situation.

“See? You’re getting better already,” he would say, shaking his head with mock disbelief. “Just keep that clumsiness to a minimum.”

Though your heart raced with embarrassment each time, there was a comfort in knowing that Sanemi’s reactions weren’t purely irritation. He cared, and that realization made each accidental fall worth it.

A rough, hot-blooded Hashira who, despite his abrasive nature, was slowly but surely falling for the clumsy girl who had stumbled into his heart.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡ Thanks for Reading! ˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

[winkliee]

thinking about sanemi getting to know that his crush has a crush on him too. he gets so riled up, that eventually after a class together, you two end up kissing, and making out in an empty room. he lifts up to your legs to his shoulders, your underwear getting exposed through your small skirt, as you desperately try to cover yourself up, blushing furiously. he will smirk, and say-

"now, now, don't try to cover up. lemme see what i deserve."

[chiharuhashibira]

Next chappy's up!

And yes, I won't make you cry 😫 I'll try thoooo~

Let's start this now! First part will be written in Sanemi's POV. Then after the --, I will go back to Y/N.

I present you the Part of of 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ☺️!

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒀𝒐𝒖

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙸𝚅

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐗 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔)

<𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

Content Warnings: Curse words, Slightly Suggestive, Angst/Drama

(Image is not mine)

"Nii-chan, are you alright?"

"Huh? I'm good. What's up with you, though?"

Sanemi hasn't been focusing well lately, even in his classes. He's less harsh than he usually is, and even his closest friend, Obanai, notices this. But of course, knowing the chemistry teacher, he won't really pry that much.

Genya shifted in his seat, looking at his big brother with worried eyes. Usually, Sanemi would say things like...

"Why do you fucking care?!"

or

"Mind your own damn business, you goddamn brat!"

It's not like Genya likes being yelled at by his own brother, but Sanemi's been acting weird.

"I'm good Nii-chan. I hope you are too. Just remember that you're the sweetest brother in the world. And the greatest teacher too."

Sanemi blushed at what his little brother told him. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, gripping harder on the steering wheel. But honestly, inside, his heart was suddenly filled with warmth.

--

You were a wreck. The day after that incident with Sanemi, you couldn't find the guts to face him at school. You can't even talk to Kanae well after the jealousy that you just felt from her presence. The science teacher doesn't deserve it, as she was really nice towards you, but you just can't help it.

You're a history teacher, but damn, you don't know how to write your story well enough that it'll be good history in the future.

Sanemi had avoided you as well, and that made you feel worse. Whenever you're in the faculty room, he will walk out, even if he's in the middle of a conversation. Of course, you know that what he tells his other colleagues is just full of excuses.

You silently watched him, noticing how he became less aggressive with his students. But of course, sometimes you'll see him talking to Kanae, and you'll end up sulking once again on a corner with Tomioka, who has no idea why you're there with him at all.

(this is the usual view you'll see)

But as if the fates were testing your patience, today you found yourself alone with him inside the faculty room.

The teachers decided to go out tonight, but of course, because you were sulking badly, you declined. Even if Tomioka wanted to decline too, Shinobu forced him to do so. So now you're alone at your desk, finishing checking the test papers on the table.

You heard the door slide but didn't look up, as perhaps it was just one of your students.

"If you're looking for other teachers, they're not around. Just come back tomorrow."

"Need a hand?"

You looked up, and standing behind you was Sanemi. With his sleeves rolled up and his arms crossed, you can't help but feel hot on the face. But yes, you longed to hear his voice. You fucking missed the scent of his minty perfume.

You missed Sanemi so much, and him talking to you right now fucking hurts so much.

But of course, you're at school, and this is work. You need to separate your personal life from your career, which you also messed up on doing the last few days.

You gave Sanemi a soft smile, trying your best not to pull him down and just hug him. "Oh, sure, Shinazugawa-san. My students are giving me a hard time!" Your voice sounded as professional as you had imagined, and it had made Sanemi scoff.

He pulled Giyu's chair over and sat next to you, snatching some of the test papers from your table. "Where's the answer sheet?" He asked, and you handed it to him.

Sanemi's fingers brushed against yours, and that immediately almost made you pass out. You were paralysed by the sensation that the little motion sent through your body. You watched as the man checked the papers silently, wishing he'd bring up something from that time, but nothing came.

"For a delinquent kid, Hashibira-kun did well." He muttered under his breath, praising your student which made you smile. "Yep, he's good at history. And Kamado-kun's a great tutor." You replied, smiling as you easily checked Tanjiro's papers. The kid had aced the test once again.

"Eh, I hope he does well in math, though. That kid gets fucked up with numbers!"

"Oi, mind your language." You said, chuckling, which also definitely made Sanemi smile.

You remembered the night when he confessed to you, as he said almost the same words when you cursed at him.

"Why are you still here, though? I thought the teachers would eat dinner together or something. Where's your best friend? Tomioka?" Sanemi asked as he continuously checked your students' papers. You gulped and paused for a bit.

"Oh, Kocho-sama took Tomioka-san. And as for me, I'm busy. I can't go." You lied through your teeth, wishing Sanemi would never notice. "How about you? I thought you went with them?" Kanae's there... You wanted to add but stopped yourself from doing so.

"Oh well, I'm not in the mood for those gatherings. Okay, I'm done here. Do you have more tests to check?"

"Oh, none. I think I can go home. Finally!"

You said, stretching out on your chair. You didn't notice, but a button on your blouse popped out, hitting Sanemi on the cheek. You gasped, immediately caressing his cheek to check if you had accidentally wounded him again. But thank goodness, there are none.

Sanemi undoubtedly blushed slightly as you caressed his face and let your fingers run up his scars. When you realised it, you pulled your hand away, apologising for what you just did.

You were expecting that Sanemi would pull your hand or anything, but that didn't happen. Disappointment filled you, but this is the reality. You turned him down, and that's the end of it.

A warm fabric suddenly blanketed you, making you look up. There, you saw that Sanemi took off his outer vest and placed it over your shoulders. "I don't wear any jackets, but perhaps this vest could cover you up." He said it sweetly, and that definitely tugged at your heartstrings.

"Thank you, Shinazugawa-san."

"You're welcome."

Silence. A deafening silence came right after you wore his vest, covering up your bra that was exposed earlier. His minty scent embraced you like a lover longing for his significant other, and there, you wished it was him instead of just his vest.

The math teacher didn't try to start up a conversation; instead, he played with Tomioka's pen that was left at his table.

You suddenly wondered why he was mad at your friend in the first place. So you asked.

"Why do you hate Tomioka-san so much?"

Your question caught Sanemi off guard, and he was undoubtedly staring at you with wide eyes as a result.

"Uh, sorry to pry—"

"I don't hate the man. But I consider him my rival. He's smart; I'll give him that. But I fucking hate his I am different from you vibes and shit. And the Kochos seemed to still like him despite that. You know that Kanae's my ex. I even became jealous of him before."

Kanae again... You looked away and sighed. "I see."

"But now it's different. It's more like he doesn't vibe with me as much as Obanai does. And he looks like a fucktard."

"Hey! Tomioka's handsome!"

You said it in defence of your best friend, which made Sanemi laugh. He shook his head and continued. "But yeah, that's it. I don't really care if he lives with the Kochos or anything. I have more priorities than thinking about them."

His words moved you. So, does this also mean that he isn't thinking about Kanae anymore? You wanted to ask once again, but you have no right to do so.

"And you're one of those priorities, Y/N."

Your world stopped as Sanemi's voice echoed in your senses. You shot him a shocked look, but he was already looking at you with sadness in his eyes. This sight was too different from his normal attitude, and it makes you feel bad. You want to comfort him.

"I can't forget about you, Y/N. I fucking tried."

"Sanemi stop."

You tried stopping him, but the man held your hand once again and gripped it tightly this time, assuring you that you wouldn't leave him again.

"Please let me start over, Y/N. Please let me prove myself to you. Please give me this last chance. And I swear that if this doesn't work this time, I'll stop for good. I'll fucking leave you alone even if that shit hurts."

This time, tears finally rolled down your cheeks as, for the second time, you saw the usual strong and cold Sanemi beg for you to give him another chance.

You hate how he looks right now. You hate seeing him sad. And with that, you let your impulse take over your body as you gave him a warm embrace and whispered in his ear.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"One last chance, Sanemi. Let's try this again."

𝑻𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅…

𝑰 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆

But why the heck am I sobbing XD

Okay... fuck, I love angst :'( And still I hope this made you happy ^^

I hope Sanemi's not too OOC but this is how I imagined him to be if he ever falls in love again and get hurt. Like he would have this part revealed. And yes, the first part's my fave as I was sobbing over Genya because of some spoilers that I have seen today.

You are my babies and I want you happy so I swear, next chappy will be happier. Sanemi and Y/N is making up here so, perhaps on the next chappy they'll be okay? Or is it? MWHAHAHAHA

But anyways, thank you for reading this fic. I love you and always remember that!

@sofilsworld just tagging you here as you were also in the last chappy ^^ Thank you!!

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

<𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

[yoditopascal]

WIP TAG GAME!

rules: list the names/titles of docs in your wip folder + open your inbox to asks about them!

Desperado (bucky barnes x poc reader) multi-part

Like A Prayer (wolverine x poc reader) multi-part

Untitled Old man Logan x reader fic

Untitled Patch Wolverine x reader fic

Heat of the Moment (eddie munson x black reader) multi-part

Aliit (din djarin x black reader) multi-part

Untitled Sanemi x reader fic sequel

Untitled Sanemi x reader fic sequel

Drag Me Under (titans gar logan x black reader x jason todd) multi-part

Untitled bucky barnes x reader smut

Law of the Duat (moon knight boys x black reader x layla) multi-part

Untitled Avatar fic (so’lek x reader) multi-part

Tagging anyone who wants to do this!

My inbox is open! ✨

I’m sure there’s more but this is all I can remember that I’m working on at the moment! I’m so excited to start/finish the first two for you guys! 😃

[angelicghostwriter]

fem!reader, talk of pregnancy, birth, jus a lot of fluff and a bit of angst :)

as sanemi had grown older he had realized he was made to protect. protect his siblings from his father and his mother from him as well and at times herself. he protected her from sickness, making sure she was warm during the winter and fall season, and tending to her when she had fallen sick. he protected his siblings from sickness as well, and from neighbourhood children who were as cruel as the demons he faces now.

if only he had been able to protect his siblings from his mother, his mother from herself, and genya from the feelings of abandonment. then maybe just maybe his life wouldn’t have come to this.

on his second chance at redemption he failed. failed to save his friend from the touch of death but had gained hashira status and an unremarkable strength. was it really worth it?

meeting you had made him feel something. something foreign and sweet. your voice was intoxicating like fine sake and your touch was as warm and fluffy similar to his mother’s hugs. it was shocking really how he could find warmth in such a cold world.

you were his everything. he had engraved every moment with you into his mind and every part of your face and body was imprinted in his heart.

a few of his favourite memories of you had happened to be some of scariest and happiest moments in his life. he had never knew what true fear and anxiety was like until he had gotten the message from his crow that described how you had ran into uppermoon 2 and it left you heavily injured. he had ran a whole 6 miles towards the butterfly estate, not caring that his lungs were feeling like they would explode. he had prayed to whatever gods that existed to not take away his soulmate, his love. and it appeared that they had listened this once. been his heart had dropped to his feet again after kocho had informed him that due to the severity of your casualties a possibility was deemed that you may never wake up again. he refused to accept it, you were strong. your his goddamn soulmate! the love of his life! no god was sadistic enough to make him go through a life time of grief and sadness again. right? 

and it appears that he was blessed again. on the tenth day of your coma sanemi had awaken from the side of your bed to find you awake and smiling at him softly, your voice was still as lovely and soft as he remembered.  “good morning my love”

sanemi was never one to believe that he would find true love. that was, until he met you of course. he had always thought that genya was the one to get married, have children and live a care free happy life. but seeing as how the younger shinazugawa brother had followed the older one, it seemed as that was a distance dream as well. 

so who would’ve thought that sanemi would be the one to marry? his wedding was one of the happiest days of his life, it marked an eternity with you by his side. 

but the day he had found out you were carrying his child? he couldn’t have been more excited in his life. he couldn’t wait to care for you during your pregnancy and become a better father then his ever was.  “im going to be a father?” his eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape. his eyes trailed down to your stomach, his baby was in there.

“i found out today and couldn’t wait to tell you” you smile and giggle at his reaction. you pull him by his hand and press a soft kiss to his cheek. he snaps back into reality and immediately wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer towards him. 

“im going to be a father!”

he smiles fondly as he reminisces about those moments, they had all led him to this very moment he had been preparing for all of 9 months. anxiety had bubbled up inside his stomach as he pasted back and fourth along the halls of the butterfly estate. 

“shinazugawa-sama, your wife and baby are both healthy and ready to see. congratulations on your new baby boy.” the kakushi slides the door open and as he steps in, he feels as if he’s on cloud 9.

he walks towards you and presses a soft kiss on your head mumbling the softest praises and faintest “i love yous” against the yell of your ear. you gently place your new born son into his fathers scarred arms, he’s careful not to move too much wanting to make sure his son is comfortable. as he gazes down at his baby he takes in every part of his face and ingraves it into his mind. his baby has the most beautiful (e/c) eyes, that he got from you, his mommy. sanemi can’t help but admire his sons fluffs of white hair, a very visible trait inherited from his father. who would’ve thought the short tempered wind hashira could be so soft? sanemi has never been more happy in his life till now, this is the cherry on top. he knows he would never want to be anywhere too far from his wife and son ever, not in a million years. suddenly all the wishes and dreams of a happy loving family seemed possible. this was just the firstborn, more would be to come soon. 

this was his third chance. and he would be damned if he were to fail again. 

[bwabys-scenarios]

NSFW

Watching his fingers pump in and out of you after he’s stuff you full of their cum.

“Don’t you waste a single drop…”

He coos so softly, placing a kiss on your belly as he keeps your plump thighs open. Your pussy is gushing, you’re about to cum again!

“Ah… it’s coming out, I’m gonna have to fill you up again, aren’t I? We need to make sure it takes…”

And so he pressed the head of his cock against your pussy again. You already feel so full…

But he’s going to make sure you end up with a cute baby bump~

——————

|| GOJO|| GETO|| NANAMI|| CHOSO|| TOJI|| KAEYA|| AVENTURINE|| DILUC|| SCARA|| RENGOKU|| SANEMI|| KURAPIKA|| ILLUMI|| CHROLLO

[deathberi]

[xxsabitoxx]

I think we can all agree that Sanemi is such a whiny little bitch when you ride his cock.

I mean picture it with me, will you?

He's got his back against the mattress, head propped on some fluffy pillows so he can watch you properly.

He's completely bare, you've got his shirt on.

His hands are gripping the plush of your thighs, dull nails digging into your soft skin as he tries to keep his composure.

But he doesn't realize he's already lost it, cheeks stained a deep crimson and his lips swollen and wobbly. Those normally wide eyes are lidded and glossy, his breath coming out in labored little pants.

Sanemi thinks he's keeping quiet as you roll your lips along the length of his cock, covering it in your shiny arousal as you press it up against his abdomen.

You don't even have him inside of you yet and he's wreck.

Soft praises keep leaving your lips because you have to admit that he's being pretty obedient. His hips are trembling with the effort to keep them from bucking upwards, his cock is weeping from your persistent teasing, and still, he's letting you do as you please.

When you ask him to beg for it, he does.

Sanemi is whining, begging you to finally sit on his cock and ride it like you promised you would.

That's good enough for you, finding the tremor in his voice endearing as you move to pull his shirt up and over your head. You're trying not to smile as he audible groans, his grip tightening as he tries not to reach up and grab your breasts instead.

Sanemi is needy, whimpering lowly as you sink down on his aching length. You watch the way his chest expands before letting out a stuttering breath as your hips connect.

You don’t go easy on him, either. Immediately lifting your hips just to drop them back down again. You set a brutal rhythm, eyes locked on Sanemi’s face as he falls apart.

You barely even notice the burn in your thighs as you work yourself on his cock. The string of profanities and whimpers leaving Sanemi’s lips are more than enough to keep you going.

His nails are raking down your thighs, leaving scratch marks in their wake.

For a split second you swear his eyes are getting glossy, possibly enough for tears to leak down his scarred cheeks. That’s just enough to egg you on, tone taking a nearly cruel tone as you stop bouncing and begin to tease him.

Tis merely an unfinished thought~

[strawberrymochin]

Sanemi shinazugawa ⌦ .｡.:*♡

NSFW audio | mdni | when he lets you ride him | cock riding, edging, belly bulge, sanemi in heat, dirty talk, over stimulation(??) | use headphones darling!!

Sanemi's panting, drunk from the pleasure as you raise your hips letting free his half of the shaft, tip still buried inside you.

He'd shivers running down his spine at the cold sensation, nails digging down your flesh pushing you down, till your warmth shields him again.

If he had known letting you ride him, while he did nothing but watch your eyes roll back at each thrust; watch you pathetically whimpering his name as he slides one big palm to press on the bulge on your stomach feeling himself inside you; watch your legs give up, as your rhythm fall apart, eyes begging him to take lead, would have this effect on him, he would have done it so early.

“yeah? Tired already?” you could only manage a whimper against his neck prepping kisses along his collarbone.

“beg for it sweetheart and I will let you cum.”

He's such a menace, he will rub on the bulge making sure your g-spot brushes with his shaft, everytime, edging you till the words, he wanted to hear leaves your mouth.

You almost jump from the sudden contact of his rough calloused fingers on your sensitive clit, when he presses you down on his cock with his other hand, to prevent it slipping out from you, carefull not to let his previous slick leak out of you. That's too precious to waste.

“daddy will take things further 'kay. J-just surrender yourself to me hmm!”

a/n- my other demon slayer works-: a letter.....long lost!, behind the red curtains, isekai drabble, noisy | comments and reblogs are highly appreciated 🎀

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated

[senanatheskenana]

Giyuu, Sanemi, and Rengoku With Baby Fever

TW: mentions of pregnancy, Sex, fem reader

Giyuu Tomioka

He hadn't put much thought into domestic life- after all, you were his first real relationship. However, when he lays eyes on your happy smile and the way you fussed over the three younger demon slayers, he can't help the feeling that pools in the pit of his stomach. A primal need for you, for a family. He's not particularly proud of the human weakness he currently experiences but each time he looks your way, his strength melts away, leaving only his desire to create life with you.

His smile is small but amused at how you motherly coddle Inosuke, attempting to wipe the mass of dirt off his face, despite his protests. Tanjirou seems almost as enamoured by your sweet behaviour as Giyuu is.

You can tell something is different with Giyuu- the way he holds your hand is just slightly tighter, the way he looks at you ever so slightly hungrier than you've seen. He stares off into space in contented silence, and you feel he is happiest in those moments. The idea made you curious as to what he was daydreaming about.

'Three children, maybe more' he thinks, pink tinging his cheeks at feeling so soft for you. He imagines what life outside of the corp- life with you- would be like. Blissful, peaceful, connecting but of course with moments of excitement and frustration that come from raising children. Maybe your children would have his hair and your eyes- or perhaps they will look the opposite, or exactly like you or him.

His cheeks once again flare up when another thought hits his head.

'And (y/n) would surely only become more beautiful over the years'

"Giyuu~." He is snapped out of his fantasy by your hand over his. "What are you thinking about?"

He gently squeezes your hand, looking deep into your eyes with humility as he thinks through the right words to say.

"We've been married for a year, and we haven't talked about it yet. I would completely understand if you object... but i have a request, that involves both of us." you listen eagerly to him.

"Sweetheart, i will always try my best to understand your wants, there's no reason to seem so nervous," you smile tenderly at him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. The apples of his cheeks burst into flames at your touch, butterflies erupting underneath the skin of his shuddering chest.

"(Y/N) I love you. I will always love you... And if you will be so kind, I would like to start a family with you"

He sees your face break into a smile, which makes him smile. Before he knows it you're climbing into his lap and kissing him with a passion that fills him with a need he has never experienced.

Kyojurou Rengoku

Kyojurou was sure he wanted children at some point, and as your husband, he made you aware of this, in case it wasn't for you. For the most part, your husband had great self-control.

However, it always seems to slip away when his younger brother makes a comment, about how your baby would probably have bright hair like theirs. At first, it's just that thought, but soon he's thinking about baby names, daydreaming and kicking his legs behind him giggling. You easily notice your cheerful husband becoming even more giddy than usual- not to mention far more physically affectionate.

He finds every excuse under the sun to get you under him. He takes his time, forehead pressed against yours, enraptured in pleasure. Your legs are pressed to your chest; a new position for you. The sheer depth is enough to make you dizzy, even without moving.

Kyojurou looks deeply into your eyes before kissing you passionately, sensually, as if the world is ending.

"Honey, i think we should have a baby!" he huffs out in between languid thrusts. You thought he'd never ask.

"Me too, Kyo~"

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi doesn't not want kids. He just feels he would be a bad father given all of his hangups. He worries he won't be emotionally available for a child, or might accidentally scare them when he is angry.

So this feeling is conflicted within him. On one hand, he's utterly in love with you and the way you care for Genya is heartwarming to the point of actually convincing him he might be ok if you were by his side. On the other, he was terrified of being a bad parent.

Sanemi swears you look so pretty holding your friend's new baby. You hold it like you're accustomed to it like it was yours. And you just look so fucking happy like that. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he- no, he couldn't just rush into these things. But you look so pretty he's having a hard time rationalising anything.

He sits beside you, peering down at the baby that tries to grasp at his fingers. It's actually sort of cute, he thinks. Then you look up at him, and he's caught off guard by a vision of you and your own baby. Your friend has to physically bite back giggles while she watches the motions of Sanemi's thoughts. She knows what's happening better than he does.

She sparks up a conversation with you to see how flustered she can make the hashira on this topic. "You know, past the halfway mark I gave up putting on my own pants- it got too annoying when I couldn't see over the bump and boobs. My husband had to help me instead!"

It seems to work like a charm. Sanemi almost zones out, thinking about how you would look pregnant. Without realising it he is salivating at the thought of your swollen chest and round tummy. 'fuck,' he thinks, 'that sounds good'

Half an hour later he's rushing to leave, hastily pulling your coat over your shoulders and waving goodbye to the baby. He didn't dislike being there in any way- he'd just rather be somewhere else with you. He tugs you down the road, looking at you with a strange new fervour, eyes darting to your lips and tummy.

Your friend closes the door behind you with a mischievous grin. "I'll give it a week before she's pregnant<3"

[togacaffe]

chapter one — CHEERS TO 21!! (RENGOKU EDITION)

IN WHICH a youtuber suddenly gets followed by a celebrity who happens to take quite an interest in her. turns out her close friend mentioned her and caught his interest

masterlist | next

TAGLIST (OPEN) . . . @reiikonee @amisuh @rock-lol @makh615 @jiminscarmex @dephitarie @fullyproblematicstudent @hypernovaxx @sanemirights @ashuvric

[3-dsimp]

Could you do a drider breeding fic? Creampie and eggs. Size kink is a musttt. Maybe a bnha character? Whatever character you choose is cool just none of the villans pls. Btw your fics just ajrjdkndjekdndosn💖

A/n: I ended up doing a general smut Drabble hope that’s okay and thx you! (>^ω^<)

——|———-|———|———

Cw: 🔞NSFW MDNI🔞Fem reader! + Drider Male! breeding, tummy bulge, praise, overstimulation, eggs, size kink, pussydrunk, rough sex, cum inflation, creampie.

——|———-|———|———

Imagine him grinning widely as he ruthlessly slams you up and down onto his engorged cock. His muscles flexing with each movement while he relishes in your wetness gushing around him.

"Oh you’re such a good girl, taking my dick like a world champ I’m so proud you sweetheart~"

The man praised, whilst sticking his tongue out like a dog. A pussydrunk look apparent on his haggard features. While You were fucked out of your mind, completely full to the brim from his previous thick goopy loads of his sperm. Which leaked past his dick that served to be a temporary plug to keep all his spend inside of your flooded womb.

"Damn I can’t get enough of this sweet pussy she’s so tight, so perfect Princess. I could fuck you all night long and still not get my fix."

A low heated chuckle escaped his lips as he felt up your rounded belly. Which was sloshing with his eggs and cum of which he meanly crammed into you. Despite your whines of discomfort, he couldn’t resist bullying every inch of his pulsating meat inside your quivering quim. The telltale of his balls twitching against your ass for the fourth time in a row. Made your cunt clench pathetically around his throbbing shaft.

"Shh baby it’s okay I know how you love getting stuffed full of my cock. Daddy’s gonna give you one more load so make sure not to spill any of it mkay?"

He purred nipping at your nape as his hips continues to pump into you, his massive dick filling you up completely as he uses you like a fleshlight for his own pleasure. Your bodies moved together in a primal dance, lost in the moment. The only sounds were your collective harsh breathing and the wet slaps of flesh against flesh.

"Fuck yes! That's it, Take it all. Take everything I have to give. Mmh you’re such a good girl. Shit this pussy is to die for~"

He moaned in a breathy hiss as he manhandled you into a mating press and began to move savagely, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you with a satisfying wet smack. Your walls clenched around him, milking his spurting penis for all he was worth.