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“Still like my scars?” His tone was a harsh pant, hips still moving back and forth with ease as he looked down at you. “Y-yeah… fuck.” You whined loudly, nails digging into his shoulders as your legs began to go numb with the effort of keeping them around his waist. “Do…” you started, mind feeling like mush as his cock stretched your walls over and over again. “...Do you still like my eyes…” Your head fell back, eyes nearly closing until his hand shot out to grab your chin and force them back on him. “Yeah, course I do… I think they look even prettier than before.” Slightly red from tears, glossy and dazed “Yeah…definitely look even prettier now.”
Did I say fluff... I meant smut
his tsugoku
sanemi shinazugawa × f!reader
warnings : taisho era, sanemi and y/n have a teacher-student relationship, 2 yrs age difference, sanemi is a soft dom, soft sex, sub reader, whimpering, fluffy, loss of virginity
to the world, you two were the wind hashira and his only tsugoku.
at first, he didn't even want a tsugoku. hell, if he wanted one he could've taken genya in himself.
and out of all, you had to be his tsugoku.
you two were polar opposites, he was cold nd ruthless, while you were chirpy and bubbly.
but when you two were alone, you were nothing more than a loving couple.
he could never hurt you, he was always so gentle with you. his love for you overflowed his heart.
he only had eyes for you.
before long, you both started indulging in physical passions too. and immediately you thought, he has to be rough.
you were absolutely wrong.
he was similarly soft with you in bed, caressing you, giving you pleasure but never hurting you, or manhandling you.
"are you feeling good?" he asked kissing your body up again.
it was both of your very first time, and you two were just experimenting on what should be the best.
you were already breathless as you quietly muttered out a yes, before sanemi kissed your lips again, an impassioned kiss.
he was so soft with you, going slow, taking breaks in between to ask if you were feeling good and if you were hurt somewhere.
he was so scared because this was your first time. and he wanted to make your first time memorable.
for sure he did.
he would never go rough with you. aftercare was a must.
cuddles afterwards? always.
when he's so soft for you, anything's bearable.
Succor
Sanemi x F!Y/N
I'm feeling horny and sad, so here's a horny and sad comfort one-shot I had queued, and I know y’all love some soft Sanemi
CW: hurt/comfort; mentions of death? explicit sexual content, creampie, emotional sex/love-making, crying. MDNI.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
He comes back bruised, beaten, and bloodied, but he comes back alive; and that’s all that matters.
But he comes back a little more broken, and Y/N can see it in his eyes; can see that his head and shoulders hang limp under what is undeniably the crushing press of guilt.
There was a loss of life on this mission. Whether it was one or many does not matter because Sanemi will bear the entirety of its weight, and she will lose another piece of him to this war they wage on behalf of humanity.
So when he shuffles through the shoji door of her estate and drops his head into the crook of her shoulder, she wraps her arms around him and holds him close. She holds him tight, and maybe it’s because she’s trying to keep him together when she knows that he is about to fall apart.
And when his arms encircle her waist and crush him to her, and his lips find the side of her neck as he whispers, I need you, Y/N lets him have her completely.
She lets him tug open the sleeping kimono she wears before undressing himself and allows him to lower her to the unmade futon on her bedroom floor. She lets him kiss her soft and needy, while he wraps his arms around her waist and holds her impossibly tight against him as he slides into her with a soft groan.
Sanemi has lost today, and she knows that he needs to feel her in his arms, to know that she’s safe, and still here and breathing with him until the screams in his head subside.
She locks her legs firmly around his waist to hold him to her as he rocks his hips against hers, slow and steady. Her white-haired lover hardly pulls himself out, instead content to grind up into her core because he needs to feel as close to her as possible. But she cannot help but cry out from the friction that is becoming too much to bear, and she feels Sanemi pick up his pace, his hips moving a little harsher, his length dragging in and out of her more hurriedly, and Y/N clamps her teeth down around his clavicle. She knows that he is doing this now solely for her benefit, but tonight isn’t about her; it’s about him, and he needs to be comforted.
So, with great effort, she slides her hand down the rippled expanse of her lover’s back until she comes to his firm backside and presses down, limiting the push and pull of his hips until he slows back to that needy grind against her.
In her ear, Y/N hears Sanemi’s strangled moan of gratitude as he resumes the languid roll of his groin into hers. Y/N’s hand slides back up to grip his hair, tugging lightly until he removes his face from where it has been buried in her neck so that he can meet her eyes.
The lilac irises she loves more than anything in the world are filled with such exhaustion and grief and love that it causes something inside of her to break, and her eyes become mirrors of his own. Before she knows it, they are both crying because they are both so damn tired of having to sacrifice their comrades for every demon they manage to kill.
But Y/N can do nothing but wrap her hand around the base of his neck and pull him down to kiss her, to swallow the broken sob that bubbles up in his throat as his mouth moves desperately against hers.
“It’s okay,” she whispers against his lips as she breaks away to pant, a familiar heat beginning to coil in her belly as Sanemi continues to grind deliciously into her. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
The muscles in Sanemi’s arms flex as he tightens his vice-like hold around her waist, melding every inch of Y/N’s skin into his own as he rolls his hips harder against her. He buries his face back into the side of her sweat-dampened neck, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin of her sides. Suddenly, Y/N feels herself clench tightly around him and she cries out, her vision going white as she comes apart beneath him, thrashing against the blankets while her thighs spasm around his hips. Her back arches sharply, somehow pressing her harder against him, and Sanemi cries out her name in a broken shout. He comes and she loves him, and she loves him, and she loves him.
He collapses against her, and Y/N thinks she could die happily crushed beneath the full weight of her lover’s body. She almost cries again when he moves to pull out of her, wincing at the empty cold that fills her, leaving her only with the sticky warmth of their mixed pleasure between her thighs.
But Sanemi does not move off her completely. Instead, he shuffles himself down between her legs until his head comes to rest against her stomach, his arms still wrapped around her as they lay on her futon, both still panting as they calm their breath. Y/N’s fingers move on their own to stroke his mop of white hair as it rises and falls against her belly with each breath she takes. He presses sleepy kisses against the soft of her belly and nuzzles his face against her sensitive flesh; and though she can feel his hot seed beginning to ooze out of her, this somehow feels more intimate.
“Stay here with me tonight,” she murmurs, fingers lightly scratching along Sanemi’s scalp as he hums in contentment against her skin. “Let me take care of you.”
Sanemi does not answer her, instead just settles harder against her, and she knows that he won’t argue; he’s feeling far too vulnerable to pull away from her now.
Though the enormity of the night’s casualties still threatens to suffocate him, Sanemi thinks it might be a little easier to breathe now that he’s here, with Y/N warm and soft and alive beneath him.
And so, Sanemi sleeps.
And a fluff thought stemming from bundle of joy just some years after
All I'm cracking up at is this big scary wind hashira, terrifies the lower ranked slayers. Middle of training when they break for lunch, Y/N coming by with their now toddler daughter. Watch the slayers head spin when this lil girl is absolutely delighted to see her dad, running to hug his leg squealing
No, because this has sent me into a spiral.
Imagine Sanemi has the lower-ranked slayers nearly passing out from how brutal his training is, but they're also too scared to actually stop because they know it will just make their day a thousand times worse.
Sanemi is in the middle of laying into one of them because his form was wrongwrongwrong and how can he possibly expect to cut a demon's head off if he can't even hold a fucking sword, when they're interrupted by a shriek of laughter and joy from across the training grounds.
At first, the group of trainees see the Lunar Hashira crossing the dirt towards them, and they think, oh thank god, she's here to save us from Shinazugawa's wrath, she's going to help, thank god, thank god.
But instead she stops, and she's not looking at them, she's looking at the Wind Pillar and the Wind Pillar alone (like hello?? they're here too?? damn), and he stops the entire training session.
Suddenly, a small, white-haired, pink-cheeked miniature human peeks out from behind the Lunar Pillar's leg. She takes one look at the scarred menace who is low-key torturing this poor group of slayers, and she lets out the loudest little shriek of delight and begins toddling towards Shinazugawa as fast as her little chubby legs can carry her because she just learned to walk and now nothing can stop her.
And Shinazugawa smiles, and not in his signature sadistic manner that makes his trainees nearly wet themselves, but he has an actual genuine smile on that scarred face of his. Then, he does something even creepier -- he laughs.
He squats down and opens his arms as this little ball of pudge and snowy hair waddles to him, and he scoops her up and puts her on his shoulders while she claps her little hands together, laughing.
Sanemi then turns back to the group and for half a second, they think maybe Shinazugawa is in a good enough mood to dismiss them for the day because he can't possibly want his little angel to see him all scary and mean and angry, right?
Sanemi does decide he's done with training for the day -- but they're not. Instead, the Lunar Hashira -- his wife -- is stepping in to run them on defensive drills. Most of them haven't trained under the Lunar Hashira, so they breathe a sigh of relief, because surely, surely her training cannot be anywhere near as life-threatening as Shinazugawa's.
The Lunar Hashira looks so kind, so gentle, as she unsheathes her actual fucking weapon and begins using her breathing forms on them (because it's a mostly defensive-style of fighting, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have some very fast, very brutal offensive techniques saved for when she needs them). The slayers are forced to run, to contort their bodies into unimaginable shapes in a desperate attempt to dodge her crescent-shaped attacks. By the time the sun sets, several of them have thrown up, and a couple of them have passed out.
Meanwhile, Sanemi stands off to the sidelines, daughter still balanced on his shoulders, as she oohs and ahhs the display of lights and shapes unfolding before her. She squeals in delight every time her mama makes another pretty crescent moon and is so entranced by the dazzling show before her that she can't hear the screams of the slayers trying desperately avoid getting slashed to pieces.
And Sanemi has never been happier in his entire life.
-------------------------
Sanemi's proudest moment is when his daughter, who just hit speaking age, loudly says "fuck!" in her little, cute voice when she drops her piece of ohagi in the dirt outside their estate one afternoon. Too bad she also said it in front of her mother, and suddenly Sanemi's proudest moment also becomes the moment he learns what true fear is.