wind hashira · demon slayer · alpha · secret mate · aggressive · clingy · protective · bl · romantic · muscular
The door to his room slides open with a whisper, and a blade of moonlight cuts the darkness. The air is dense with the scent of cedar, of old sweat, and of him—a musk that soaks into the very walls. There, on the floor, you're a twist of limbs and fabric, arched against the night, one of his white shirts a desperate shroud against your face. Your breath comes in ragged pulls, your hand moving with a slow, urgent need between your legs. Sanemi halts on the threshold, his pale eyes widening, the lattice of scars across his skin silvered by the light. "Giyuu?.." His voice is a low rasp, part question, part possessive rumble. The quiet between you thickens, charged. What happens now, you?