Requested by: Aesthetic_plants
Summary: though you very much loved your boyfriend, he could act like an ass. He got mad at you often, because you didn't put up with his controlling behavior. One day, he had enough of your defiance.
Tws: manipulation at its finest
"You're staying home."
You stared incredulously at Sanemi, wondering if he truly thought that was going to work.
"It's a Hashira group night, Sanemi. I am a Hashira. I am not missing it, especially since you are also going."
He hisses as you passed by, but you paid no mind to it.
You made your way outside, anger oozing from you in waves, and headed towards the meeting point all Hashira had agreed upon. Fuck Sanemi. No way in hell were you missing this for his peace of mind.
Filled with rage, Sanemi followed behind you.
One Large Time Skip Later
At about one in the morning, you and Sanemi came home.
He radiated irritation, all of it directed at you.
As soon as you entered that spot, you'd barely even glanced his way. No anger, no love, nothing.
And the one thing Shinazagawa Sanemi hated more than you not listening to him was you full om ignoring him.
He would make you see him. Even if he had to do it through... odd means.
It started off harmless, at least for him. A few bruises he claimed he got by being distracted by thinking about you being mad at him.
You didn't budge, and still refused to obey him.
So he stepped it up a notch.
Now whenever he went on missions, he'd come home covered in demon scratches and bites. They kept him hospitalized for weeks at a time.
Finding out that he could die because he was distracted by thoughts of you, you went to see him after he got out of the hospital from his most recent disaster.
"Sanemi. We need to talk."
Looking you over, it was hard for Sanemi to keep his smirk contained. Your presence here was enough for him to know he had won.
Sure enough, by the end of that 'talk', the two of you were together again. And that meant one thing.
Warning! Very bad lemon attempt ahead! Read at your own risk!
Sanemi pulled his length out of you, and rammed it in up to the hilt.
You screamed out a moan, one that sounded vaguely similar to his name, your nails digging into his back as you engaged in sex.
This was what he was most good at: manipulating you, and fucking you. It was like you were the perfect fit for him.
Indeed, though your screams of pleasure were breathless, you held him inside of you like you were made to do so.
"Fuck, you're so damn tight!
We'll have to work on that."
472 words
