Sanemi Shinazugawa X Reader NSFW 18+ MDNI

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.

Trophy Father's Trophy Son

Summary: Six years after Leon left you for Raccoon City, he shows up on your doorstep. In his sudden appearance, he learns of yet another reason why he never should’ve left that day. 

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7 K Words

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of death, mentions of depression/burnout, swearing, mentions of trauma

Tags: RE4/DI Leon, Dad!Leon, happy-ending, Leon breaks down, but he also gets his happy-ending, not proofread!

A/N: I am finally back! I never want to experience another hurricane again :) anyways, this was another request. I put a bit of a spin on it, so I hope you guys enjoy it. Thank you all for supporting my work once again! <3<3<3! Song title from "Trophy Father's Trophy Son" by Sleeping With Sirens.

Six years. Six long, miserable years that seemed never-ending. Caught in a loop of trauma and loss, never once finding an ounce of peace, Leon wondered if he’d ever found a way to cope with what happened on September 28, 1998. He lived his life like a machine, oiling just enough to wake up in the morning before he’d eventually crash and break down at night. 

Six fucking years of living a life not for himself, keeping himself alive just to play the good agent. The best agent, willingly seated at the President’s beck and call, constantly wondering what would happen if he decided to swap out his usual, “Yes, sir” for one giant, “Fuck you.” Would they reprimand him, consider his work too valuable to do anything less than a mark on his record? Or would they bite the bullet and put on right through his skull, like he’d done to the countless innocents infected by corporations that lined the thick pockets of government officials and campaigners? 

Leon didn’t know anymore. Hell, did he ever really know anything in the first place, considering his memory always loved to backtrack just 24-hours before he would no longer consider himself a man. 

September 27, 1998. 

The day he walked away from you, watching you cling to the post of your family’s front porch, wailing in the rain as you begged him not to go. He could still remember the gut-wrenching feeling of getting in his car, sitting stiff in the driver’s seat as he tried to make up his mind on whether or not to leave you behind for Raccoon City. He’d been so excited to get the assignment, raving on for weeks about how he wanted to get the chance to investigate the Arklay Mountain murders. 

He’d barely graduated from the Police Academy back then, coming home to you with a much more muscular physique and a ‘good boy’ attitude. He’d matured more than you could’ve imagined in just a few months, and that included his view on your relationship. Leon would’ve dropped to one knee back then in an instant, if he thought you’d say yes. Which is what he thought you were going to say when he asked you if you were going to move with him. 

The breakup was inevitably coming, that much he knew by the way you faltered over your words and looked away from him. You were in your last year of college, and the university nearby didn’t offer a program for your major.

The guilt on your face when you’d declined still hurt him to this day, six years later as he sat beside Ashley Graham on the plane back home to the U.S. This last mission in Spain stirred up more emotions from the past than he was comfortable with. Seeing Ada again, the woman he’d tried to let distract him from his heartbreak only to end up hurt again when he thought she’d fallen to her death, brought him right back to that unlucky night. Learning Krauser, the man whose rigorous training had nearly killed Leon and given him a sense of purpose, had abandoned his morals and joined the enemy made him seriously wonder if the life he led would ever have its upturn. 

Watching Luis die, a man whose last minute efforts to be the good guy ended with a knife to his back, was what Leon considered to be the last straw. He couldn’t go on like this anymore. His life would not be reduced to following a “democracy” truly fueled by those who held the most cash in their pockets, not the people that resided within its borders. 

And for the first time in six years, the second he stepped off the plane and dealt with the hours-long debriefings and mandatory quarantine, he allowed himself to revisit the past. He hadn’t even gotten a full night’s rest before he sat at his kitchen table, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he wondered if this truly was the best idea. 

He wasn’t the same man that you remembered, the bright-eyed rookie long gone and leaving behind an emotionless husk held together by more glasses of whiskey than truly necessary. A workaholic, bordering on alcoholic, that refused to admit to himself or those around him that he was not okay. 

“Here goes nothing,” Leon huffed beneath his breath, brushing the blonde fringe from his eyes with a shaky hand. He opened up the civilian record system he wasn’t necessarily granted access to, having called in a personal favor with Hunnigan. Slowly typing in your first and last name, he scrolled through countless hits before he found you. 

You’d never left Boston judging by your driver’s license and voting records. You’d switched addresses a few times, having recently just moved to a better part of town within the last six months. He felt a twinge in his chest, the feeling unfamiliar to him, as he searched for anything that would cause his search to halt. Marriage licenses or divorce decrees were absent from your record, bringing a sigh of relief from his lips. 

Leon only let himself briefly glance at your tax returns to gauge your occupation before the guilt of diving too deep into his ex-girlfriend’s sensitive information began to make him feel nauseous. He clicked out of the program, shutting his laptop before he eventually decided to finally get some sleep. USSTRATCOM had so generously granted him a few days off after too many near-death experiences for one mission. 

He spent the first thirteen hours of his time off dead asleep, sleeping so deeply he didn’t even dream. And when he woke up, he booked the first flight to Boston. With only an overnight bag and your address scribbled on a sticky note, he made his way “home” for the first time since he’d left. 

And now, Leon sat in a rental car parked in front of the brownstone townhome, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as the minutes dragged on. He’d been sitting here for an hour, glancing back and forth from the bustling road to your front doorstep. What would I even say to her, he thought to himself as he leaned back in the driver’s seat, frown forming on his face. 

It wasn’t like he could exactly waltz up to the door, knock and say, “Hey, sorry I’ve been AWOL for six years. The government enslaved me, but I miss you and I want you back.” 

No, that wouldn’t blow over well. 

So now, he was left empty-minded and utterly petrified of your reaction. He wondered if maybe there was another man in your life, now. Or, if you had long closed the chapter of your life that included him and left the book on an old, dusty shelf in your mind never to be read again. Leon prayed, something he never did, that you’d find it in your heart to reread the story you used to love just one more time as he got out of the car. 

Slowly, he made his way up the concrete mat and onto the doorstep, taking in the painted door and double deadlocks. Smart girl, he mused internally before he took a shuddering breath. For a second, he thought about abandoning ship. You would never know if he just turned around right now and walked away, giving up all hope that he’d once again find happiness. It would be so easy. 

No, I need this. I need her. 

Leon knocked a few times before he took a step back, shoving his hands deep in the pocket of his windbreaker. He didn’t trust himself to wear another leather jacket, considering the one he’d worn and lost in Spain cost more than he was comfortable spending again. 

“Coming!” Your voice rang out from just behind the door, making his stomach twist and turn into knots. You sounded the same as you had when he’d known you, and it only made the nerves twisting in his stomach all the worse. 

He briefly glanced at the potted plant beside the door, making a mental note of it in case he lost the minimal lunch he’d eaten thanks to his nerves. His blue eyes, a duller blue than past versions of himself, flitted right back to the door when he heard the locks click. All the air in his lungs swept away with the afternoon breeze when it swung open, and your head popped out. 

The smile on your face stayed for only a few seconds before it dropped, leaving behind an expression he could only describe as utterly shocked. You blinked slowly, like you were trying to believe your own eyes as you opened the door slowly to reveal your full figure. 

You were the same height you’d been at twenty, but your curves were more prominent. You looked soft around the edges, just like he’d come to like over the years. And if anything, you were just as beautiful, if not more, than you were the day he’d left you and what remained of himself behind. 

“Leon?”

 Asking hesitantly, your words sounded airless and no louder than a hushed whisper. You looked him over from head-to-toe, making the seasoned agent squirm just a bit under your gaze. He’d been through bootcamp and bio-terroristic attacks, for fuck’s sake, yet the way you looked at him like you’d just seen a ghost made him feel like breaking. 

Leon licked his lips, looking down at his boots against the pavement as he tried to think of the best greeting possible. Something to ease you into his presence and not get himself kicked off your front porch. He settled on a simple, “Uh, hi.” 

You stepped out onto the porch, barefoot and in “lazy day” clothes as you looked up at him. You frowned, and he watched your eyes flit around his face. He could feel your gaze burn on the few beauty marks and moles he had, like you were checking their authenticity. 

“You’re.. God, I-” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath. Leon could see the reels turning in your mind as you took a step closer, holding your hands out in front of you. You reached out, hesitating for a moment before you touched his arm. “You’re.. Alive?” 

That threw him for a loop, eyebrows furrowing as he looked down and felt your soft hands brush over the slick fabric of his windbreaker. He could feel your fingers, as warm as he remembered, press into him. “I, uh, yeah?” He let out an awkward chuckle, clearly not having expected this kind of reaction. 

Your frown deepened, causing him to mirror your expression as you tried to find your words. You stammered a bit, stringing words of surprise together before you could finally form a coherent sentence. “I saw the news,” you started, swallowing harshly. “That they’d bombed Raccoon City.. I thought.. I thought you were dead.” 

Oh. 

It made sense to him, now. The government had painted quite a perfect lie, sorrowfully reporting there were no survivors of the incident that flattened an entire US city in a matter of seconds. Of course, you would think he was dead. It was only natural. 

“That’s a difficult story to explain,” he murmured, fingers fidgeting inside his pockets before he pulled his hands out. He’d made it this far, so far, it was too early to throw in the towel. “I can try to explain, uh. Can I come in?” Leon gestured to the open door behind you. 

You winced a bit, face twisting into a look of discomfort as you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the best idea-” 

“Mommy?” 

A soft voice sounding from behind you snapped both Leon’s attention and yours back to the open door. He couldn’t see its owner until you quickly turned around, and the sight before him caused his heart to fall flat right out of his chest and onto the floor. 

A little boy, probably elementary school aged, peered curiously up at you then around you. He looked at Leon, child-like bewilderment evident as he rocked back and forth on the door ledge. He looked just like you, mixed with someone else also standing on this porch. 

“Scotty, baby,” you started, your back to Leon but unease clearly evident in your voice as you bent down to eye-level with the little baby. “I told you to stay inside, didn’t I?” 

“You left the door open,” Scotty giggled, like he found the situation to be funny as he looked around you again. “Who is that?” 

Leon swallowed as a small finger pointed right at him, shock and other emotions tormenting deep inside his chest. Of course, she has a kid, he internally cringed. If only he’d scrolled through your tax return just a bit more, he would’ve seen that you claimed a dependent and not found himself in this situation. He didn’t speak, only looking away from the boy and back to you. 

“This is one of mommy’s friends from work,” you lied perfectly through your teeth, ushering the boy back inside. “Now, go on. I’ll be back inside in a minute.” You shut the door behind your son once he reluctantly disappeared inside, your shoulders slumped. Turning back towards Leon, it was clear that you were bracing for the incoming questions. 

If the fact that the little boy had a few traits just like Leon didn’t tip him off, the name definitely would click something in the depths of his mind. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked back at you, and he could only ask one thing: “How old is he?” 

You sighed through your nose, wrapping your arms around your midsection as you stared at the ground. “He turned six in June.” 

June, Leon thought. He counted back on his fingers, mumbling out the months until he got to the ninth one. September. His trip down memory lane had turned into yet another day he could put on the calendar as “life-changing”. 

I have a son. 

The thought was fleeting, but it shook every inch of Leon’s core as he stood before you, frozen in time. Sure, at twenty-one he really hadn’t been the most responsible about “family planning” or even bothering to reach for a condom when the box was right on his nightstand, but he never would’ve thought that this would happen. 

And then the soul-crushing guilt came crumbling down on him. He’d left you for Raccoon City. When you were pregnant. With his child. 

“When did you find out?” His voice cracked when he asked the question, blue eyes stinging with the threat of a substance that hadn’t rolled down his face in what felt like years: tears. 

You bit your lip, looking back up from the ground and into his eyes. The apologetic look on your face only made him sniffle, confirming that Scotty was indeed his. “Two days after you left,” you whispered. 

“Why didn’t you try to find me?” Leon’s voice now sounded hurt. If only he’d known just two days earlier, he never would’ve left. Hell, his life may have turned out somewhat decent instead of the clusterfuck it currently was. Maybe, he’d still be a cop. “File for child support, something?” 

“Leon,” you let out exasperatedly. “I thought you were dead. I spent the entire nine months mourning you and trying to figure out what to tell him when he grew up and asked where his father was.” 

Leon ran a hand over his face, looking up at the sky as he tried to will the tears not to fall past his lashes. He couldn’t cry now, because if he did, he’d never stop. “I never should’ve left,” he whispered, taking a deep, controlled breath to try and get a grip on his emotions. “I should’ve just stayed there, with you.” 

You frowned and took a step towards him again, placing your hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort. “You can’t blame yourself,” you tried your best to give him some sort of ease. “You didn’t know. I didn’t know. That isn’t your fault.” 

Leon swallowed hard, finally looking back down at you. This time, he couldn’t stop himself from letting a few hot tears roll down his face. “I can’t even tell you what I went through,” he choked out. “And all this time, all these years, I had a kid? I had a family that thought I was dead?” 

When he started to tremble, it felt like a thousand needles had driven through your heart. Clearly, in your time apart, something had broken Leon. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into an embrace as you rubbed his back. “Hey, hey,” you whispered against his chest. “Shh, it’s okay.” 

His grip around you could be considered crushing as his forearms dug into your ribs, pulling you into him with all of his strength. You could feel his tears staining your shirt as he buried his face in your neck, hiding himself as he displayed his emotions for the world to see. 

“I have a son,” Leon choked out through his shuddering but soft sobs, words muffled by your skin. The pain cut deep through him, torturing him as he realized he’d missed six years of his child’s life. For all he knew at this moment, Scotty had grown up believing that his father was dead. Whether or not you’d told him the “truth”, the damage had already been done. 

“We have a son,” you corrected him softly, pressing a kiss to the side of his head as you held him in your arms. You didn’t know what to feel at that moment. The man you loved had suddenly reappeared, cheating death in your mind and abruptly entering your life. And before you could carefully tell him, the truth had been revealed. 

“You can meet him,” you started, still speaking in a soft, soothing tone as your lips pressed against the shell of Leon’s ear. “You just can’t tell him who you are, right now. We’ll figure it out as we go, okay?” 

He nodded against you, sniffling as he tried to reel himself back in. This was not how he’d expected this trip to go. But maybe, there was some light at the end of Leon’s tunnel, after all. 

“Shit, fuck, shit,” Leon grunted as he limped down the corridor of the airport, feeling every ounce of pain radiating all over his body. Not even seven hours after having gotten the tar beat out of him by Maria Gomez, and getting infected with the T-virus just to be vaccinated not long after, his body definitely wanted to give out on him right now. 

But, he didn’t have time to lay out on the floor and give his aching muscles a rest. He was already late, thanks to an unwanted delay in flight plans, and he had a forty-five minute drive to his destination. The event started in thirty minutes. 

The man didn’t bother to change out of his mission gear, instead abandoning his tactical vest and holsters in the backseat of his Jeep after he’d gotten his luggage. His beloved and dearly departed Ducati’s keys laid abandoned as well, a sore reminder of his short time in San Francisco. Leon sped out of the airport parking lot, taking off for the suburbs of D.C. with one thing on his mind. 

He didn’t even bother to tell you that he’d landed, instead doing as best as he could to get there on time. He owed it to you, and to Scotty, to at least show up for this. 

After getting caught in a roadblock, Leon did something he never thought he’d do. He’d flashed his DSO badge to the officer, mumbling something about “official business” that would definitely make his way back to his supervisor, considering he’d gotten out of a ticket for going 60 in a 45. But right now, he didn’t care. 

He finally pulled into the parking lot of the high school, circling around three times before he found a parking spot. He almost forgot to lock the Jeep as he rushed inside, making his way towards the gymnasium. They’d just cut off the lights, making it a lot harder to find you in the bleachers until he saw you waving your arms. 

“Excuse me, sorry, excuse me, just gonna scooch past you real quick,” he spouted off to every person he cut in front of, inching his way down the row of plastic benches until he got next to you. Leon sat down with a huff once you’d moved your purse from the spot you’d saved him, resting his hands on his knees. “Did I miss anything?” 

“Nothing important,” your daughter, Bella, huffed as she scrolled through the phone she was always glued to. “Nothing but boring speeches so far.”

Leon reached out, yanking it from her hands and tucking it into his back pocket. He held a hand up when she tried to protest. “Ah,” he interrupted. “Pay attention. If I can make it, you can get off your phone for twenty minutes.” 

You laughed softly as she scowled and looked back towards the stage. Leaning against your husband, you interlaced your fingers with his. “How’d it go?” 

“Awful,” Leon grumbled, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand. “Don’t be surprised if I’m purple under my clothes.” 

Before you could reply, the principal took her place on stage again and announced the start of the senior class. After reading off names, she finally got to the K’s. You and Leon both leaned forward in your seats, eyes glued to the caps and gowns until you saw the head of floppy blonde hair making his way towards the podium. 

“Scotty Kennedy,” the woman announced. You could feel Leon squirming beside you, trying to hold in any noise until your son had actually accepted his diploma. “Following in his father’s footsteps, he will be attending the DC Metropolitan Police Academy in the Fall.” 

As soon as the diploma touched Scotty’s fingers, Leon leapt up from his seat. Usually not one to draw much attention to himself, this was definitely one of those rare moments he expressed his excitement. Using two fingers to whistle loudly, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled out towards the stage. 

“That’s my boy!” 

hehe i just woke up look at him

Don’t Touch the Bunny: Satan (part 2)

CW: MC is afab, uses she/her pronouns.

Smutty smut

Minors and ageless blogs DNI. 18+

Female reader

MCxSatan

Satan Part 1

____________________

MC releases a wicked smile. Glancing down at the needy, glaring demon who returns his gaze upwards. She twitches between her legs and feels herself getting wetter. Satan is probably one of her favorites to get riled up. She knows anything with cats catches his attention, and she barely has to tease him before he’s ready. But the dangerous concoction of the Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup and the Lunatic Pudding, PLUS the spell MC had placed on Satan to keep him still but lock his eyes? She’s done it now.

Satan must have noticed her anticipation because he tightens his grip on her wrists. It’s his turn to play. He presses into her body. She can feel his full length against her pelvis. Satan now in demon form, bares his fangs before sinking them into the side of her neck. He’s quick to lick and kiss right over his bite to ease any pain that he may have occurred.

“Mrrrrrr,” MC purrs towards Satan. A feral growl leaves his throat. You’re playing a dangerous game, MC.

His hand that was on her hip now around her throat, just enough to hold her against the table. He smashes his lips against hers. Abusing her in his kisses, not shying away from his tongue. She moans into his mouth as his hand releases her neck and trails down and rubs over her clothed mound. Teasing her over her pants, she bucks her hips slightly to chase the friction. But he is quick to steady her movements by pressing her hip against the table.

Satan tsks. So needy.

Satan releases her wrists only to uno his waistband and release his throbbing cock. He tugs on her hair and pushes her to her knees. She grabs his pants and finishes taking them off completely on her way down.

“Be a good little kitten.”

MC licks her lips and looks up at Satan. She gently flicks her tongue across his tip, making him moan. He’s staring down at her meeting her eyes. She licks up underneath his shaft. Satan thrusts his head back and inhales sharply. Keeping his hand within her hair, she grips his base and starts twirling her tongue around his tip.

Wraps her mouth around the tip at first. She can still get some teasing done before she knows he’ll have his way. Sucking and twirling her tongue around. Then catching him off guard, slides his entire length in her mouth. He can feel himself hit the back of her throat. She slides up and down his cock, quickening and slowly down her paces.

“Mmm, such a good kitty, taking me all in.”

Satan pulls MC up from the floor still by her hair, and slamming her against the table once more. She licks her lips. He tears off her clothing, lifting her up. She wraps her legs around his waist. Running her nails down his back. Using him like a scratching post she promised. He growls into her ear and he thrusts inside her without warning. Both screaming out in pleasure.

Satan fully inside her, slowly pulling back teasingly. Then pumping just the tip in and out. Getting off on her squirming for more.

“Now who’s the one begging?” Satan smirks.

“Please, baby.”

“Mmm, so needy.”

He pumps into her roughly. Slamming their hips together. Fucking her at an unforgiving pace. The club echoing in their screams and moans. Squeezing her legs tighter around Satan as she feels her orgasm approaching. He can feel her walls pulsating around him, making him brink closer to the edge himself.

“Baby, come with me.” His pace becoming uneven. She clenches around his thrusting cock as she screams out her climax. Satan following shortly after, filling her to the brink with his cum. Continuing his hips back and forth, slowing down his pace, until they both come down from their highs.

Satan breathing into the nape of her neck. Both their arousal dripping down Satan’s thigh onto the floor. He gently slides out of her and steadies her back down to the floor. Keeping his hands on her hips. Her legs shaking.

He takes her face in his hands and kisses her passionately. Pulling back and gazing lovingly into her eyes. He knew how to give it rough, but he was also the most romantic with her.

“You doing alright, kitten?” Stroking her cheek. MC smiles sweetly and nods.

“I told you I’d do more than make you purr, now didn’t I?” He bites his bottom lip. This demon always makes her feeling like SHE’S the one drunk off Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup.

She could consume him all day, every day.

ME-OW.

what if, hypothetically, sanemi needs you to jack himself off????

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

YOU.

a/n: coming back w my sanemi content w esha's ask cuz shes my gorgeous, gorgeous girl whos jst a sweetie pie

c/w: smut, handjobs, sanemi is obsessed w u lol

He can't do it.

 His palm is so rough. 

He craves the soft, warmth of your hand. How your fingertips slide and caress his delicate veins. The way your thumb wandered over his bulbous tip, as pre-gathered, and traveled across his shaft. 

He became desperate thinking about it.

It was late in the night. He felt himself stir awake, as his shaft abruptly jerked within the thin material of his boxers. Pulsing. His erection heavy and needy. His body became immensely eager. 

He glances at your sleeping physique, his cheeks heated. His chest heaved, flowing unevenly 

You looked delectable, he thought, sinking his teeth to his lower lip. Vile thoughts swiftly clouded his mind. He pondered the supple feel of your body, the sounds you'd emit as he traveled his hands over the delicate regions of your body. 

He shouldn't wake you, he reasoned. He shouldn't be so selfish. 

So he attempted to relieve himself, gently palming his hand against the rigid bulge of his boxers. He tried to recite it precisely, the way you would. 

Nevertheless, it wasn't the same. 

And he knew he couldn't bring himself back to sleep. 

So, he acted selfishly. 

Climbing himself on top of you, he gently kisses at your neck, striving to stir you awake. Heavy rushes of his breath rolled from his lips, gliding across your flesh.. 

You shortly awoke. Slowly adjusting your sight, you could feel his body's desperation. The stiff swell of his arousal pressing against you. 

He soon excuses himself as he whispers lovingly into your ear.

“I’m sorry baby– fuck.. I didn't mean to wake ya’ i’m just...”, His breath came forward shakily. “I just really need you, sweet thing.. please?”

You gaze at him wistfully. His pleas awakened you slightly. You nod subtly, as you watch Sanemi pull his eager cock from the tight confines of his briefs. It stood upright, as pearly beads of pre trailed.

You wrap your fingers around the base, prompting a desperate gasp from Sanemi's lips. You could feel him quiver and throb keenly. 

You begin to pump, your fingertips caressing the prominent veins. Your thumb skimmed along the underside of his dick. 

He shouldn't be that excited. So eager. Yet he couldn't help it. 

He struggled to contain his eager whines and groans as his body was overcome with ecstasy. He felt like a hound in heat. 

He bit his lower lip, grasping the sheets and watched your fingers glide over his tender cock. 

He loved how you caressed him. Nobody could have made him feel the way you do. 

He couldn’t pleasure himself. He could only truly feel good beneath your hands. But he didn’t care.

All he could think of was your touch, as he eagerly rocked his hips against your hand. He was driven to reach the height of pleasure. The thrill of bliss. 

“That’s it– That’s it. Fuck– I need it. I n–need it.”, He babbled, his hips ruthlessly striking against your fingertips. 

He saw stars. The Sacred Gates of Nirvana. And it was all you. 

Your touch.

Your caress. 

Your body. 

He was feeling phenomenal, his thoughts obscured with you. His body tightened, and his thighs trembled humbly. 

You were exceptional at providing him pleasure. He couldn't be more thrilled. 

“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

Seven days a week: day 1

Kakashi x fem!reader.

smut, oral (fem!rec) mulitple orgasms, overstimulation, cervix fucking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, crying, mentions of crack (lmfao nobody smokes crack in this i promise)

*okay so this is my first time writing in almost a year, so hopefully im not too outta wack and this doesnt suck assholes.

“K-Kashiii— it’s too much… too deep” you cry out, hands pushing at Kakashi's toned stomach in a futile attempt to get him to slow down.

Kakashi ignores your cries, still pressing feather light kisses against your neck before sucking down on one of the hickeys that already cover the expanse of your neck. his pace never falters as he slams into you with so much speed and force your pushed up further and further on the bed each time his hips meet yours.

after a particularly rough mission that ended with Kakashi being hurt, lady Tsunade ordered the copy ninja to take a week off to recover and Kakashi planned to spend the entire week fucking you so good the only thought left in that pretty little head of yours was about how good his dick feels as it drags along your gummy walls.

“Shh, shh… you can take it." he murmured against your ear. "you gonna be my good girl and take every inch daddy has to offer, right?" he questions as his tip kisses your cervix over and over again, voice deep and low.

you're so fucked out at the point you don't know whether to nod or shake your head. you want to be good, you really do but you're already on your third orgasm of the night and you can barely keep your eyes open at this point. Kakashi looks like he's barely broken a sweat, damn him and his years of ninja training, his stamina being one of the things you love and hate the most about him.

“But it’s too much” you whine loudly, your walls clenching tightly around his fat cock, and he groans against your ear, hips stilling as he attempts holds himself back, wanting to drag the feeling of you walls fluttering around his dick for as long as he can, never knowing when he's going to be called away for another long mission.

he might have to go without the feeling of your tight cunt clenching down on him for days, weeks, maybe even months, so he's going to get his fill now and he doesnt care how hard you cry or how much you beg.

"just a little bit longer princess then we can take a break, just let me fuck you for a little while longer"

Kakashi pulls out until nothing but his tip his being swallowed by your greedy cunt, slamming his hips against yours and swallowing down the screams that fall from your lips.

"even after taking my dick over and over again, you're still so. fucking. tight" he grunts out the last three words, accompanying them with a sharp slam of his hips.

you're eyes flutter shut as your pushed over the edge once again, your body shaking and convulsing as your fourth orgasm rips through you. your legs wrap around Kakashi's waist, grinding clit against him as you ride out your orgasm.

"mmmpf—fuckkkk" Kakashi groans, pulling out at the very last second and wrapping his hand tightly around his dick, stopping the orgasm he knew was coming. he pushes your legs up, your feet dangling by your ears and gathers spit in his mouth.

he spits directly on your cunt, smirking to himself as he hears the guttural moan that slips past your lips. he watches as his spit drips from your clit down your slit and pools at your gaping entrance. he takes your swollen, sensitive clit into his mouth and sucks down... hard

your hands fly to his long silver strands as you push and pull at his hair, so high off the pleasure you're not sure if you want him to stop or keep going.

"K-kas...Kashi...Kashiiii" you slur, his name falling off of your lips over and over again like a mantra. Kakashi lets his tongue circle around your hole before pushing it in as deep as it'll go, his nose rubbing against your clit.

Kakashi slurps and sucks at your cunt, moaning against your puffy folds, the sweet taste of your slick on his tonuge is addictive, like crack in the 80s. (im so unserious its crazy)

he has to force his face away from your cunt when your cries get louder, more high pitched, and your grip on his hair tightens almost painfully, the telltale signs that you're close and Kakashi wants you to the two of you to cum together.

he strokes himself once, then twice before he's pushing his way past your entrance and into your gummy walls once again. it doesnt take long for his orgasm to approach once again. he brings one of his hands down and uses two of his fingers to rub fast, hard circles on your sticky clit.

a few more thrusts and you're crying out, toes curling, back arching off the bed as you cum for the fifth time, except this time your squirting on Kakashi's dick. the feeling of your slick flowing from you and onto Kakashi's length is what finally makes him cum. his thick, sticky seed paints your walls a delicious shade of white and when he eventually pulls out it drips from your pussy down to your ass and onto the soft, light blue sheets below you.

"shit" he hisses quietly, letting his forehead rest against yours, eyes glued to where the two of you connect, pushing his entire length back inside of you ignoring how sensitive he is, waiting to feel your walls wrapped around him just a little while longer.

I WROTE THIS, ME MYSELF AND I!!! dont steal my shit!!!!!

warm-bodied | leon k.

genre(s): erotica, romance warning(s): female reader, soft dom leon, choking, clothed petting, mentions of bodily fluids, language, light dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, size kink, brief somnophilia, dry humping, stream of consciousness, lowercase, not proofread, written while under the influence now playing: some days - stella jang

he prefers you like this.

without the knit of your brows or the upturn of your lips. defenses buried beneath the gravel, your voice soft with sleep. no sharp quips, no biting comebacks. just your lids dancing and your mouth parting slightly with each exhale.

he likes it best when he can get away with stroking your cheek with the flat of his nails as you dream of pretty things. when he can root his nose into the curve of your shoulder and inhale.

you smell like earth and heady things, and you shift the slightest bit in his arms, nuzzling further into the safety of his body. cling to the fabric of his shirt like a grabby child, and the notion makes his lips—and dick—twitch.

the rain taps a steady rhythm on your makeshift shelter—a tarp he fashioned between two trees to shield you from the elements. 

you needed the rest, your bones shaky with fatigue. leon insisted after you reconvened following a split-up to gather intel. after you stumbled into his back when he took the lead to resume your search for the president’s daughter. wasn’t like you to be so out of sorts. so naturally, being the good partner leon was, he herded you to safety—or some semblance of it.

you allowed him to hold you beneath the veil of night. to ward off the insistent chill because you were soaked to the bone, your clothes sticking to you like a second skin. and he was warm and so very big, and…

well, he was just helping out his partner, right? definitely not swelling with something feral at the sight of your body wrapped snug in his coat and you burrowing into his armpit like a scared little bunny.

besides, it isn’t often he has you like this. in the clench of his arms, his fingers meandering along the skin of your neck. dragging further downward towards the divot between your collarbones, grazing over your breasts. further still, on an unhurried excursion to your nipples pebbling beneath your shirt. from the cold or his touch, he isn’t sure. but the sight of them makes him bite his lip as he chokes on a groan.

you stir when you feel him. clear the phlegm from your throat, your lids still heavy with sleep.

“leon,” you warn, voice rivaled by the patter of the rain overhead.

“i know.” humor hangs in the depths of his voice, interweaved with something sensual. something disarming. “just tryna help keep you warm, is all.”

snort. “we don’t have time for the nonsense.” 

leon scoffs. feigns hurt, his ministrations never faltering. sure, danger looms between each crackle of a tree branch. between every hoot of an owl in the distance, every whisper of wind, but—

a well-placed nipple pinch invokes a bitten-off growl from your throat. and he smiles at that, sighing hot and open-mouthed against the space behind your ear.

“we’ll make time, sweetheart.”

a promise clings to the air like the oaky aroma of petrichor, and he doesn’t miss how your thighs clench at the rumble of his voice. how you arch the slightest bit, pushing your breasts into the calluses of his hands, still feigning sleepiness. give him the go-ahead to touch you more, and he’s every bit of smug now as he kneads, plucks, and flicks his fingernails over your pretty, pretty nipples.

and, oh, how he wants to taste them; roll them over the bumps and grooves of his tongue, between his teeth. but given the angle and the timing, he’ll have to settle for this.

“gonna take care of you,” he huffs into the delicate hairs at the nape of your neck. hands dip a little further down, coasting over the ripples of your rib cage, massaging the meat of your belly, melding to your hipbones. “promise.”

you shudder, growing a little boneless, legs instinctively parting. and leon heeds the invitation, his nails raking up and down the inner sanctum of your thighs, all honey slow and teasing. and he intentionally nudges your meaty outer labia with the knuckles of his thumbs, and they’re swelling and fat in your pants, pulsating with each touch. he coos alongside you, infatuated by the beautiful noises he invokes upon touching you there.

you shiver again, a cute whimper easing past your lips. the sound shoots straight to his cock, painfully hard.

“want me here?” he croons. you nod all too quickly, earning a chuckle from him.

leon needs no further goading, taking to massaging your pussy through your pants with a cupped palm and artful fingers. revels in those breathy little sounds leaving your mouth and how your head falls back against his shoulder. and he’s there, mouthing over your carotid, sinking his teeth into whatever flesh he can reach.

his name drifts from your lips in a gentle cadence—in a dulcet supplication that makes his head spin, and he unconsciously grinds in tandem with the steady undulation of your hips. mind filled only with you you you. with getting you off. with tasting the briny tang of your cum. with being buried deep in the searing clench of your pussy, and the notion makes him nip at your shoulder to mask the pathetic little whimper burbling in his throat.

“right there?” he dotes at a particular buck of your hips, and your thigh craters beneath his fingers as he squeezes to anchor you down, keeping your legs spread so he can play at the seam of your pussy. “keep ‘em open for me, baby. yeah, just like that. gooood girl.”

he’s breathless now, sweat beading on his temple, because watching your resolve wither away has him leaking pre-spend and rutting into the cleft of your ass like a beast in heat. you burn hot as he shackles your neck with his hand, unraveling you little by little, your cunt so very wet and warm and weeping into his palm. and his hold on your throat tightens until he feels your pulse beat violently against the lines of his palm and your breath hitches.

“oh fuck, leon! so—so close! i’m gonna…i’m gonna—”

“yeah? gonna cum, baby? want you to. so bad. fuck. please.”

like a frayed bowstring stretched taut beyond its limits, you snap. topple as quickly as leon built you up, your slick saturating his fingers through the thickness of your cargo pants. and fuck fuck fuck, it’s embarrassing how quickly he cums after, drawn to his peak by the erratic stutter of your hips and that sinful tongue of yours curling around his name. he soaks his pants like an overzealous teen, fighting against his labored breaths and the urge to push you onto your back to fuck his cum into you.

but as the dust settles and the rainfall filters back in through the static of his mind, you look at him with a lazy smile. with a quirk to your brow, your gaze all-knowing and swimming with exhaustion.

“well, that’s one way to keep a girl warm.”

to which leon snorts, tugging you back into his arms, lips pursed and tender on the crown of your head.

masterlist

Mayhaps some Sanemi NFSW headcanons 🤲

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA NSFW HEADCANONS

I neither regret nor apologize for how carried away I got with this.

CW: f!Reader • NSFW • MDNI • Sanemi’s oral fixation • breeding/creampie kink • switch!Sanemi • exhibitionism

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES

He has a silvery happy trail that begins just below his navel and runs narrow before widening just before his groin. He really likes it when you drag your tongue down it (and it's a sure way to get him panting).

Below the belt, he keeps his hair neat and trimmed -- any time you're spent gagging on a stray pubic hair is time you're not spending with your mouth around his cock, and that's just a tragedy (but he doesn't give a shit whether or not you have hair!)

Now let's get to the good part: his dick

Physically, Sanemi's cock is just like the rest of him: absolutely intimidating. You lowkey think you're going to die the first time you see it because there's just no way in hell that's going to fit without splitting you in half, right???

He's above average in length -- about a solid 6.5-7 inches when hard, but he's about 2.5 of HIS fingers in girth. When he's erect, it stands straight up, with an angry, red tip that's already leaking because the man is eager -- and not just to be in you, but cum in you, too. Whether it's your mouth or your cunt, it doesn't matter, just know you're going to be filled no matter what.

FOREPLAY

Sanemi's favorite snack might be ohagi, but after meeting you, it's your pussy.

Sanemi doesn't cow before anyone, but that man will drop to his knees for you with just a flutter of your eyelashes, head going straight between your thighs so he can have his fill of you until you're doubled over his shoulder, legs shaking so badly he has to hold you up.

His ideal day consists of you, sitting on his face, while being tongue-deep inside of your cunt. He can go at it for hours, your weight bearing down on him as your thighs cage his head, while he laps at your sweetness and wraps those sinful lips of his around your throbbing, overstimulated clit for a nice long suck.

the man is a connoisseur of cunt idk what else to say

HOW HE FUCKS YOU

Let's go over your first time together.

Though he has an incredibly high sex drive, during those first couple of times, he exerts the self-control of a Buddhist monk.

This is also because for him, sex is more than just a way to feel good (though, don't get him wrong -- it feels fucking incredible). For Sanemi, sex also means being vulnerable; it means letting someone see him without the armor of his sword, his uniform, his status as the brutal, relentless Pillar he is.

So whether it's your first time ever or just your first time with him, he's going to be gentle -- because Sanemi would rather eat and shit glass than hurt you

Like come on, the man has buried too many of his loved ones already, he ain't tryin' to bury you, too

He's moving slow and languid, barely pulling out in favor of rolling his hips into yours. Part of this is for your benefit, because he wants you to feel him, but it's also for his.

Sanemi might be balls-deep in you at the moment, but he's still a Hashira, and his observation and perception skills are sharp. He's mentally taking note of what touches and movements make you gasp and sigh, and especially those that make you dig your nails into his back, tighten your legs around him, and whimper his name.

After a couple of times together (and I mean like two MAX), buckle up, buttercup: Sanemi is now an expert in your body and he's about to educate you.

Okay, now that the first time is out of the way, let's talk Sanemi in bed overall

This man is a moaner

I'm sorry, but Sanemi Shinazugawa has never known how to keep his fucking mouth shut, so what makes you think he'd do so in bed? When your slick, tight walls are gripping him like a fucking vice? Who tf do you think he is, Tomioka??

He's also a talker -- especially the more pussydrunk he gets. Whether it's your name, how much he loves you, that he wants to marry you or get you pregnant, the man may as well be giving a sermon in his devotion to you while your eyes are rolled back in your skull, mouth half-open as he fucks every sane thought you've ever had right out of your pretty head.

The man is a switch. He's a dom in every other aspect of his life, so it's nice to let loose with his lover a bit and relax -- let someone else take control. After all, sex for Sanemi isn't just about feeling fucking fantastic, but it's also about expressing with his body what he can't with his words.

When he's on top, he's a service dom. Your pleasure is his pleasure -- so even as his cock slides in and out of you, he's still going to work. He's not cumming until you've cum at least two or three times, and even after he's done, he's still going to make you cum again. He's constantly telling you how good you are, how beautiful you look in whatever position he has you bent in, and how perfect you feel around him.

That said, he's into both overstimulating and edging you -- but he's not too mean about either.

But when Sanemi is on the bottom?

The whiniest bitch you've ever met.

He's begging you to go faster, or simply to give him more, but you love teasing him as much as he does you, so you'll alternate your pace in order to prolong his torture (but hey, it just means he cums twice as much and twice as hard in the end).

Play with his balls while you're on top and he will cum so hard he goes cross-eyed for a hot second

I feel like the fandom largely agrees Sanemi has a breeding kink, but I also thinks this translates into a creampie kink in general. Sure, he'll cum on your face, your tits, your thighs as much as you want -- but only after he's filled your greedy little cunt to its brim, and then he'll do it one more time for good measure. You're his girl, after all, so he knows you can take it.

Initially, he'd pull out every time, mostly because he didn't know how to apporach the subject of asking you whether you were okay with him finishing inside. He didn't want to assume that you were taking some sort of medication to prevent an accidental whoopsie, but while he loves the idea of getting you pregnant and having a family, he doesn't want to force that on you if it's not what you want

(local mama's boy has childhood trauma?? from his father?? it's more likely than you think)

so Sanemi continues to pull out, instead painting your stomach, your thighs, or your ass with his creamy, hot seed, even though it pains him to do so.

That is, until one night, he's pounding into you so goddamn perfectly, with your legs draped over his forearms and ass nearly resting against his thighs as he ruts into you, his weight pressing deliciously down upon you into the futon. You can tell by the way his hips are slapping against yours, making the lewd, squelching sound of your messy cunt nearly drown out your breathy whimpers, that you're close -- so, so close, but then Sanemi tenses.

"I'm 'bout to cum," he manages to grit through his teeth, his hips stuttering as he goes to pull out of your intoxicating, silken heat. Through the haze he's created in your mind, your stomach clenches as you realize you're going to lose this -- this wonderful feeling of being so warm and so full of him. Your release is close, so fucking close, and if he pulls out now, it's going to be ruined and you're so desperate to cum. Your legs lock around his backside, trying to hold him in place, and his eyes widen.

"N-no, 'Nemi, please," you start to beg, and to his bewilderment, you start tearing up, lower lip quivering because he can't pull out, not when he's making you feel so good; not when you're so fucking close.

"Shit," he groans, and his hips pick right back up slamming against you, his biceps flexing as his arms tighten around your thighs. "Shit, sweetheart, you don't have to ask me twice."

After that -- pulling out??? never heard of her.

KINK-O-CLOCK

Like I said: his biggest kink is giving you so many creampies, Hostess is thinking about offering him a job in product development

Fucking loves 69'ing, because he gets the best of both worlds -- your pussy on his face, and your mouth around his cock

Bit of a risk kink/exhibitionism kink. He likes the thrill of the risk of getting caught doing it in a place you two shouldn't be. He gets especially turned on at the thought of you having to go about your usual business while his seed is still oozing out of you.

Loves when you play with his ass but would rather be eaten by a demon than admit it.

Once, while you were on your knees in front of him, his cock jammed down your throat, you reached your hands around him to grip his ass and haul him closer. Somehow, your fingers dipped between his cheeks and the man bucked into you so hard, you almost choked.

Even though he nearly triggered your gag reflex, you were able to ignore it because the man let out a wholeass whine -- so of course, you had to do it again.

The second your index finger dipped towards his opening, he came in your mouth, and he came hard.

He likes to bite you/leave marks on you -- especially your breasts, your hips, and your inner thighs. He also enjoys when you mark him -- make sure to give him one or two on his chest, so he can display them proudly.

Truthfully, he loves when you pin him down by his wrists while riding him. Could he overpower you with a flick of his pinky finger? Yes. But something about your small hands wrapping so tightly around his while you hold him down against the bed, your hips grinding and swiveling up and down his length makes him go a little dumb in the brain.

Fun fact! You once restrained him by both his wrists and ankles and rode him and by the end of it, he looked like this: