セクシー

Cw: Mild injury, Violence, Coma/critical illness, grief, emotional trauma, near death experiences, and fluff. 

The room never fully darkened.

Even at night, someone left a lantern burning low in the corner, its light soft enough not to offend the stillness but present enough to ward off the idea that you had already crossed somewhere unreachable.

Rengoku Kyojuro knelt beside you, back straight despite the ache in his shoulders, despite the hours he had already spent training until his muscles trembled. He did not remove his uniform anymore. It felt wrong to come to you unmarked by the day, unscarred, unspent. As if showing up whole would be a kind of lie.

It was strange, devastating, even. Just watching the strong, unshakable man who had once trained you become hollowed by sadness. 

Kyojuro had always believed in you. Unflinchingly. From the very beginning.

You remembered the first time you met him, not in a hall or a training yard, but in the forest, your lungs on fire, as you ran without direction, without dignity, only fear driving your feet. He had been returning from a mission, still bloodied, still alert, when you nearly collided with him. You hadn’t even stopped to breathe before you warned him. Your voice breaking, your hands shaking, screaming about the evil creature moving through the trees behind you.

A demon. You didn’t have the words then. Only the certainty.

It had taken your best friend from the world hours earlier. Ripped her from existence so suddenly it left a ringing absence behind. You had felt it coming all day like a creeping dread settling in your bones, tightening with every hour. You had tried to tell her. Tried to guide you both away, toward a different path, a safer road.

But fate had already chosen.

Kyojuro had stood in front of you that night like something immovable. He defeated the demon alone, flame and fury cutting through the dark, and then it was over. He looked at you with such empathy when you were shaking and bloodied. He didn’t look at you like a liability.

He looked at you like potential.

He took you with him.

Under his guidance, you learned how to hold a sword, how to breathe through pain, how to listen to the space between moments. You told him about the thing you carried inside you—the intuition that never failed, that pulsed through you like blood, that warned you before danger ever showed its face. You struggled to explain it, how it felt less like thought and more like touch. Like a sense. 

He never doubted you.

Instead, he taught you how to trust it. How to fight with it. How to let it guide your movements without letting it consume you. He treated it not as madness, not as weakness, but as a gift.

And more than anything, he believed you.

He never made you feel foolish. Never made you question yourself. Never asked you to dull it down for the sake of comfort.

If anything, his faith only made it stronger.

Your breathing was shallow and too quiet. Each rise of your chest caught his attention like a delayed miracle.

Twenty percent. 

The number had lodged itself into him like a splinter he could never quite dig out. Not large enough to bleed. Just painful enough to always be felt.

You looked smaller unconscious. Not weaker, you could never be weak to him, but distant, as though something essential had drawn inward. Bandages wrapped you everywhere the Upper Moon had touched you. Proof of your ferocity. Proof of how close you had come to vanishing.

Rengoku folded his hands in his lap and bowed his head. 

“I completed today’s patrol,” he said quietly, because silence felt like surrender. “No casualties. The wisteria’s blooming early near the south ridge. You would like it.”

His gaze lifted to your face.

“I argued with Tengen,” he added after a moment, mouth quirking faintly. “He says you’ll wake because you’re stubborn. I told him that isn’t how probability works.”

His voice softened. “But I hope he’s right…please be stubborn…for once I need you to be.” 

Some nights he spoke more. Some nights he only breathed with you, matching the slow rhythm of your chest as if he could coax you back by proximity alone. He never touched you without permission and not even now, when you could not give it. His hands hovered, just aching.

“I should have told you,” he admitted one evening, words scraping their way out at last. “I thought… I thought restraint was kindness. That wanting you quietly was enough.”

His fingers twitched toward yours, stopping just short. “I was wrong.”

He stayed late that evening, until the lantern burned low, until his knees screamed, until the idea of leaving felt unbearable, and then he left anyway, every time, because some part of him believed staying too long would tempt fate.

What he didn’t know?

What no one knew? 

Was that you were listening.

You could hear everything. 

You drifted in a space without shape, without light, without fear. Sensation came and went like tidewater: warmth, pressure, the sense of being held in mind. His voice threaded through it all, a constant presence, steady and bright. You couldn’t understand the words completely, but you felt the intent behind them. All of the care, devotion, and grief so carefully contained it hummed. Hours, days, weeks, blur together. His footsteps are hard to hear and gauge but you still hear them everyday. You know when he’s here. 

Tonight he wasn’t. 

Then something tore through the quiet, the peace, the serenity.

You sensed pain…but not yours. Sharp and sudden, like a blade plunged somewhere vital.

You flinched. 

You felt that pain before, but not like this. 

This didn’t belong to you. 

Your intuition flared, violent and undeniable.

Kyojuro.

The name hit you like a command.

Your body responded before consciousness did. Breath slammed into your lungs, raw and burning. Your heart lurched awake, muscles spasming as if shocked back to life. 

Your eyes flew open to lanternlight and startled voices and hands reaching for you. 

You pushed them all away, the voices turning into muffled sounds. 

“No,” you croaked, throat shredded. “He’s in danger.”

They tried to restrain you. They failed. Then they tried to reason. You tore free with strength that felt borrowed, ripping bandages loose, ignoring the way your vision swam. Your feet hit the floor hard, grounding you, anchoring you to the certainty pulsing through your veins. You spotted your clean uniform folded neatly. Your sword laid next to it. It was clean. Clear of dust. Like someone had been cleaning it, just waiting for you to return to it. You quickly stumbled into your uniform and equipped your blade. 

You didn’t wake up to live.

You woke up to find him.

Something like a sixth sense guides you. Loudly, boldly, and unstoppable. 

This was your strength. This was your real superpower. Your intuition. 

You stumble and walk slow at first, then faster, and suddenly you were running again. Your legs weak, trembling underneath you. 

Your crow yelled at you from above. 

“Take me to him.” You demanded. 

Your chest burning, your heart pounding, your adrenaline rushing through you, keeping you going. 

You couldn’t stop. No matter how bad it hurt. No matter how your body threatened to collapse. 

The forest greeted you with smoke and blood and the unmistakable stench of a demon too strong to be faced alone. You followed the pull without hesitation, every step a betrayal of the body that had just learned how to move again.

When you reached him, he was on one knee.

Kyojuro’s sword was embedded in the earth, his grip white-knuckled around the hilt to keep himself upright. Blood soaked his uniform, dark and slick. The Upper Moon loomed and amused.

And then you stepped between them.

“Kyojuro,” you said, steady despite the tremor in your limbs. “Get back.”

He turned.

Shock broke across his face so completely it hurt to see. “You’re—” His voice cracked. “You’re awake.”

“I was listening, I felt you,” you murmured, eyes never leaving the demon.

He rose, his face shifting into a stoic, protective expression. An expression you’d seen a million times before. With a loud roar from his lungs and a scream from yours,  you both ran towards danger, blades shimmering in the moonlight. 

You fought together like something preordained. It wasn’t flawless. It never was. But it was instinctive and seamless. You felt his presence at your back like an extension of your own body, trusted him without question. When the demon finally fled from the sunlight, it was with a scream that echoed too long into the trees.

You fought until sunrise. 

The silence afterward was deafening.

Your strength abandoned you the moment it was safe. The adrenaline crashing down. 

You swayed, breath hitching, and Kyojuro caught you, arms locking around you with a sound that was half gasp and half sob. His grip was uncharacteristically tight, one hand braced at your lower back, the other gripping your sleeve like a lifeline.

“You came back,” he whispered into your hair. “You came back for me.”

Your forehead rested against his chest. You could feel his heart hammering there, frantic and alive. “I couldn’t stay asleep,” you said. “Not while you were hurting.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes shining with something dangerously unguarded. “I thought I lost you,” he confessed. “Every day, I thought I was kneeling beside a ghost.”

You lifted your hand to his face, thumb brushing along his cheekbone, smearing blood with sweat, grounding him the way his voice had grounded you. He stilled at the touch, breath catching.

“I heard you,” you said softly. “Everything you said. Even the things you didn’t mean to.”

His hands slid to your waist, tentative, reverent. “Then you know,” he said.

“I always knew,” you replied. “I just didn’t think I was allowed to want it.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with all the things left unsaid. His forehead dipped to yours, breath warm against your lips.

“I love you,” he said, like a vow, like a truth he had been carrying alone for too long.

Your intuition that was so often cruel—was gentle this time.

You leaned in.

The kiss was slow and aching with restraint. His lips were warm and careful, as if he were afraid of startling you back into sleep. You kissed him again, deeper now, fingers curling into his uniform over his heart, anchoring yourself to the undeniable reality of him.

He exhaled against your mouth, a sound of relief so profound it bordered on grief, and held you closer. 

You were alive. Together.

MDNI 18+

Cw: NSFW, smut, restraint, dominance, submission, interrupted sexual activity, rough sex, choking, group sex, accidental voyuerism.

Giyuu Tomioka

You're pinned against the wall of his quiet estate, Giyuu's usual reserved manner is replaced by a raw need as his lips crash against yours. His calloused hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against his growing cock.

“I've wanted this since I first saw you," he murmurs against your neck, his voice rough with desire.

He tears your bottoms down, fingers sliding between your thighs to find you already wet for him. He tugs down his pants and grabs your legs to wrap them around his waist. With one hand he lines himself up with your entrance.

Then—

Pure, sweet, bright eyed, Tanjiro walks in, with Nezuko on his back. "Mr. Giyuu!”

Giyuu immediately lets go of you, you fall to the floor with a thud, he barely pulls up his pants in time.

“I have a—“ Tanjiro freezes, eyes wide as he takes in the compromising position.

There’s a beat. A very long one.

Giyuu stares back at him, face completely blank, ears slowly turning red.

“We are—Training,” Giyuu says flatly, scratching the back of his neck.

Tanjiro nods too fast. “Y-YES SIR. VERY ADVANCED TRAINING. I SEE THAT NOW.” He spins on his heel so hard Nezuko is probably getting whiplash in her box. He marches straight back out the door. “I’LL—COME BACK IN….SEVERAL HOURS—MAYBE TOMORROW!”

The door slams.

You’re still on the floor, heart racing.

Giyuu exhales, drags a hand down his face, and without looking at you mutters, “This is why I live alone.”

From outside, Tanjiro’s voice echoes faintly: “I DID NOT SEE ANYTHING.”

Giyuu shuts his eyes.

“…I’m moving.”

Kyojuro Rengoku

“You truly burn so bright…it takes my breath away!” Kyojuro says as he carries you from his front door to his bedroom.

He lays you down gently before tearing down your bottoms. Then he’s diving between your legs, wasting no time. His tongue working with the same passionate energy he brings to battle. "So sweet for me,” he moans against your core, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you.

You grab his hair and pull him closer, “Kyo—don’t stop!” You moan loudly.

He’s just about to insert a finger when—

“Boy! Kyojuro! What the hell is all this—“ The former Flame Hashira, Shinjuro Rengoku, the father of the man between your legs, stops mid-sentence, face flushing with anger and embarrassment.

There’s a split second of stunned silence.

Kyojuro looks up from your thighs, bright as ever, completely unbothered. “AH! Father! Wonderful!”

You choke on air. Shinjuro scoffs.

“This is NOT wonderful,” Shinjuro snaps, turning sharply away and jabbing a finger at the wall.

“And you?” His fiery gaze turns to you. “Clothes. On. NOW.”

You hurriedly reach for your pants and can’t find them. You settle on covering yourself with Kyojuro’s haori that’s lying at your feet.

You clear your throat and look back at Shinjuro, who is giving you a death glare.

“It’s nice to meet you! It is truly an honor!” You nervously exclaim, trying to ignore the whole situation.

Kyojuro springs to his feet with military enthusiasm. “I apologize for the—SURPRISE TRAINING SESSION!”

“THAT IS NOT TRAINING,” Shinjuro roars.

From the hallway, Senjuro’s small voice pipes up, deeply confused: “Is everything okay…?”

“NO,” Shinjuro bellows back. “EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY.”

Kyojuro leans down toward you, whispering with a grin far too cheerful for the situation, “We will…resume later.”

You hear Shinjuro grab a bottle off a table, muttering as he storms out, “I need a drink. Several. And I’m burning this house down.”

The front door slams.

Kyojuro beams at you anyway. “Well! That could have gone worse!”

Tengen Uzui

Tengen strips you, his three wives watching with amusement. He's always believed in sharing pleasures, and tonight you're the center of attention.

"Let's make this unforgettable," he purrs, his large hands exploring every curve as his wives join in.

Suma's giggling, Makio's whispering in your ear, and Hinatsuru's gentle laughter fills the room.

Just as Tengen aligns himself to enter you, the door slides open and his best friend Kyojuro stands there, face turning beet red, it almost matches his hair.

"Uzui? I was told to—“ He stammers backward.

“I—THIS IS NOT—I APOLOGIZE—“ Kyojuro stutters.

He trips over his own feet trying to retreat, arms flailing, nearly taking the door off its track before disappearing down the hallway.

There’s a stunned silence.

Suma bursts into laughter, doubling over. “HE SAW EVERYTHING!”

Makio snorts. “The Flame Hashira just combusted.”

Hinatsuru calmly reaches over and slides the door shut and locks it. “He won’t be back.”

Tengen throws his head back and laughs, loud and unapologetic. “HA! Now that is what I call an unforgettable entrance.” He grins down at you, utterly unfazed. “Don’t worry—he’ll recover. Eventually.”

From somewhere far away, Kyojuro’s voice echoes faintly:

“I WILL NEVER OPEN A DOOR AGAIN.”

Obanai Iguro

"Such a disobedient pet," Obanai murmurs, his tongue flicking against your neck as he restrains your wrists with his hands. You’re lying completely exposed on his futon. His serpent-like nature extends to his preferences in the bedroom. He likes dominance, control. It’s how he claims you.

"You’re all mine," he says as one of his hands wraps around your throat, the other still holding your wrists above your head, his lips trail down from your cheek and find your sensitive nipples.

You tug on his black hair to pull him up. You’re so desperate. You need him. You don’t want to be tortured.

His mismatched eyes meet yours, his grip on your throat tightens. “No. Remember how you didn’t listen to me? Remember your attitude? You’re going to beg for it.”

He shifts but doesn’t release his grip on your throat or wrists. He starts grinding against you, slowly and deliberately, while you beg and whimper for his cock.

Then…Mitsuri bursts in. "Iguro! I brought you—!” Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene.

There’s a full second where no one breathes.

Obanai’s grip loosens immediately like he’s been electrocuted. His eyes go wide but not with lust, with terror. “Kanroji—this is not—“

Mitsuri blinks once.

“Iguro—STOP!” she yelps, dropping everything and shoving Obanai off you with surprising strength.

Obanai hits the floor in a tangle of limbs and haori, hissing. “WHAT—KANROJI?!”

You blink, stunned, unable to form words.

Obanai stares up at the ceiling, equally shocked.

Mitsuri immediately kneels beside you, hands fluttering. “Are you okay?! He looked like he was hurting you! Iguro, you can’t just—just—choke people like that!”

“I WAS NOT HURTING ANYONE,” Obanai snaps, mortified, sitting up too fast. His face is entirely red beneath the bandages. He breathes slowly. “That was…consensual. Mutually agreed upon. Entirely—“

He gestures vaguely and finally gives up. “…Not violent.”

Mitsuri processes his words.

“Oh.”

Her face turns pink.

Then pinker.

Until it’s almost a deep red.

“OH.”

She slowly covers her face with both hands. “I—I—thought—you looked upset and I just—pushed you… oh Iguro, I’m so sorry!”

Obanai groans and drags a hand through his hair.

Silence stretches.

Mitsuri peeks through her fingers, glances between you, then Obanai, then back at you.

Her voice drops to a tiny, hopeful mumble.

“Um. If—if everyone is okay and I misunderstood and this was, um…on purpose…it seems…fun.”

“Yeah it…um…it is.” Obanai says, slowly and furrows his brows at Mitsuri in confusion.

“Maybe I could join?” She whispers shyly.

You look at Obanai.

Obanai looks at you.

You both nod.

And then you’re pulling Mitsuri towards the futon.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

"Fucking finally," Sanemi growls as he practically rips your clothes off and pushes you onto his futon. His rough handling sending thrills through you.

He's always been intense, yet gentle. But that gentleness is gone, replaced by pure sexual frustration. It’s been weeks since you’ve had any sexual contact.

He pins you beneath his muscular frame. "You have no idea how badly I've wanted you," he says, his scarred hands gripping your thighs and pulling you towards him, hard enough to leave marks.

He shoves down his pants and lines himself up with your entrance. He slowly thrusts into you and once you adjust, he’s fucking you into the futon with a punishing force.

Suddenly, Genya opens the door. "Nemi? I can’t find—“

All three of you freeze.

Sanemi reacts on pure instinct.

“OUT.” He yells.

He lunges for the nearest blanket, flinging it over you so fast it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs, then whips around, his veins bulging. “GET OUT. TURN AROUND. WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM.”

Genya’s eyes go wide. “I—sorry— I didn’t—“

“DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE,” Sanemi roars, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at the door as Genya scrambles backward down the hall.

“I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING,” Genya yells, sprinting away. “I wish I was blind.” He mutters to himself.

Sanemi hurries to the door and slams it shut.

He stands there, chest heaving, hair wild, hands clenched.

“I’m disowning him,” he mutters.

“He didn’t mean to—“ you try to diffuse the situation but Sanemi cuts in.

“Are you okay?” He asks, walking towards you.

“Yeah…I’m okay. Are you though?”

“I’ll be better once we actually get to fuck.” He groans, plopping onto the futon next you.

Gyomei Himejima

"Beautiful," Gyomei whispers against your skin, his massive frame hovering over you with surprising gentleness.

Despite his size and strength, he's tender in his lovemaking, his large hands exploring your body with reverence.

"I will cherish this moment," he says, his beads clicking softly as he moves.

He's just entering you slowly when—

Muichiro decides to stop by for a visit.

He slides the door open without knocking. “Gyomei, I was wondering if you—“

Silence.

Muichiro stares.

Gyomei freezes like he’s been struck by lightning.

The prayer beads stop clicking.

“Ah,” Muichiro says. “So this is what you’re doing.”

Gyomei immediately recoils, hauling himself back like he’s been burned. He scrambles for a blanket, covering you both with frantic gentleness. “I am sorry!” He booms, voice echoing through the estate. “This was not meant for anyone to see.”

Muichiro tilts his head. “…Should I come back later?”

“Yes,” Gyomei says instantly. “Much later. Possibly never.”

Muichiro considers his words. “Okay.” He turns to leave, then stops, glancing back. “Is this why you’ve been smiling more?”

Gyomei’s face goes red. He presses his palms together. “Please forget everything you have perceived.”

Muichiro nods. “I will not.” Then, helpfully, adds, “You left the door unlocked.”

He slides it shut behind him.

The room is silent.

Gyomei exhales slowly, then bows his head toward you, mortified beyond words.

“I will be praying for forgiveness for the rest of my life.”

Mitsuri Kanroji

"Oh, I'm so excited!" Mitsuri squeals as she tackles you onto her futon, her strength surprising as she pins you beneath her.

"You're just so cute…and so hot…I’m going to melt!" she says, planting kisses at your neck and shoulders.

Her pink hair brushes against your skin as she undresses you with immense enthusiasm.

Just as she's about to start touching you with practiced ease, Shinobu slides the door open. "Kanroji—“ Shinobu’s eyes widen slightly before she smirks. "My, my, quite the workout."

Mitsuri freezes like she’s been caught mid-crime.

“Eep!”

She launches herself off you in a flurry of pink hair and limbs, immediately trying, and failing, to cover you with a blanket. “Kocho! I—I was just! We were—“

Shinobu raises a brow, smile sharp and delighted. “Stretching?” she offers sweetly.

Mitsuri’s face goes crimson. “NO—! I mean—YES—! But also—“

You barely have time to sit up before Mitsuri’s already spiraling, her hands flapping. “I didn’t mean to—I mean I did—but I thought you were coming over tomorrow—and I forgot to lock the door!”

Shinobu chuckles softly. “Relax. I’m not here to scold.” Her eyes flick between the two of you. “Honestly, I’m impressed. That position takes stamina.”

Mitsuri squeaks and dives face-first into a pillow. “I’M GOING TO PASS AWAY.”

Shinobu turns to you, utterly composed. “Just… hydrate.” Then she slides the door shut again, pausing only to add, “And maybe next time…lock it.”

Mitsuri lifts her head slowly, hair a mess, eyes wide. “Do you think she’s going to tell anyone?”

From the other side of the door, Shinobu’s voice floats back, sing-song sweet:

“Oh, absolutely.”

Mitsuri screams into the pillow.

Shinobu Kocho

"Are you nervous?" Shinobu asks sweetly, though her eyes hold a dangerous glint as she ties your wrists with purple silk.

She's always enjoyed mixing pleasure with a bit of pain, her small frame betraying her dominant nature.

“Don't worry," she purrs, trailing her fingernails down your stomach, "I'll make it hurt so good."

She's just teasing you with a small trail of kisses on your neck.

Then—

A soft voice.

“I—?" Kanao’s expression remains shocked as she takes in the scene, simply waiting for instruction.

Shinobu freezes.

Completely.

The silk goes slack.

“Um,” Shinobu says lightly, a beat too late.

She clears her throat, smile snapping into place like armor. In one smooth motion, she unties your wrists, drops a blanket over you, and straightens her haori. “Kanao, this is not what it looks like.”

Kanao blinks once. “It appears to be exactly what it looks like.”

Shinobu winces.

“Medical,” Shinobu tries. “Stress relief. Very advanced. You wouldn’t understand.”

Kanao tilts her head. “Should I leave?”

“Yes,” Shinobu says instantly. “Immediately. Please.”

Kanao nods, turns on her heel, and slides the door shut with surgical precision.

Three seconds pass.

Shinobu exhales slowly, pressing two fingers to her temple. Her smile is still there, but it’s cracked. “Well,” she says sweetly, looking at you, “that was deeply humiliating.”

She pauses.

“Don’t breathe it in,” he said, but it was too late. He could taste the strange flavor at the back of his mouth– slightly spicy, almost like ginger.

Your nose scrunched as you grimaced, clearly tasting it too. “Is this its blood demon art?” 

“Possibly. It's not unheard of for a demon to unleash a last-ditch attack upon death.” He covered his mouth and nose with the edge of his flaming haori to minimize the amount he inhaled. “Come, we shouldn't hang about.”

The flame hashira walked at your side as you headed out of the grove and back toward your camp where a small group of lower-ranked slayers and kakushi waited. The heat at the back of his throat lingered. With every step it grew a little more intense, spreading to the back of his neck, then up to his cheeks and down to his chest. Eventually, even his total concentration breathing constant failed him as he struggled to fill his lungs. A glance over at you told him you fared no better. Your cheeks were flushed, your skin shimmering with sweat.

“Stop,” he said, his concern evident in his tone. “Let me take a look at you.”

You did as he asked as he cupped your face between his hands, your cheeks burning against the tough skin of his palms. Your pupils were dilated as you gazed back at him, your breaths shallow and unsatisfying. It was clear you had both been poisoned somehow.

“Kyojuro…” You didn’t just speak his name, you moaned it, snapping him from his thoughts.

His lips were an inch from yours, the warmth of your breath gently wafting against his skin, and your bodies were tightly pressed together.

Oh.

“Oh!” He darted back, horrified at his actions. What on earth was he thinking? A deep, unfamiliar ache gathered in the pit of his belly.  “My friend! Please forgive me. I– Goodness, I–I don’t know what happened. I’m so sorry!” 

“No, no… there’s nothing to forgive. I think I moved in toward you too.” You swept your arm across your glistening brow and shook your head. “Kyojuro… I think the demon’s blood demon art may have been a… uh… an aphrodisiac.”

His eyes widened. You were right, there was no doubt about it. Though he didn’t have much– any experience with intimacy, he knew what it felt like when he was aroused. And this was like that tenfold. His cock twitched needily as your eyes met his. He wanted you. He wanted you so badly, every inch of his body ached with desire.

The knowledge that you were feeling it too was almost enough to bring him off by itself. 

“We just need to ride it out–ah! I mean endure it,” he said, his voice growing louder as panic set in. “I’m sure it’s only a temporary effect.”

"Why would a demon even have that power?"

"I imagine it's pretty useful for luring people to the de..." His words trailed off. He tried not to notice the way your breasts heaved as you tried to draw breath, or the way the buttons of your corps uniform strained to contain them. His lips parted around a gasp as a trickle of pre-cum dribbled along the underside of his erection and his cheeks grew hotter still. If he didn’t fuck you right this instant he was going to go mad. 

But he wouldn’t. No, your friendship meant far too much to him, and with you also coerced by the poison like this he wouldn’t feel right about it. It was his duty to protect you, and that included from himself and his urges.

“We should head back to camp and try to sleep it off,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. “I’m sure we’ll be back to ourselves in the morning.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You pursed your lips and pushed out a breath, causing his dick to throb.

Gods, this was going to be hell.

There was no sleep to be had. 

Even though you were on opposite sides of the campfire, he couldn’t stop imagining the weight of you on top of him, riding his cock until you both saw sparks. You always slept with your breasts unbound beneath your shirt. Even before the poison, and even though he'd always tried not to notice, they always looked so soft. Without even looking over at you he could imagine their shape.

Gods, the thought that you were suffering just as he was made his cock weep; knowing that your pussy was dripping wet, that your fingers might have been stroking your slippery, swollen clit at that very moment as you thought of him…

Kyojuro lay on his back, unable to keep his fingers from exploring the trail of wiry honey-toned curls which lead to his cock. Perhaps that was all he needed– to fuck his palm and quell his raging arousal. 

But it wasn’t right. Not with the other slayers, the kakushi, and especially you so close by. Still, he had to do something. 

He got up and made his way out of the camp and toward the woods, muttering something to the kakushi on guard about wanting to patrol the area. 

The kakushi’s eyes widened above their face covering. “Alone? Lord Rengoku, would you like me to wake the others and have them accompany you?”

“No.” Kyojuro shook his head and continued walking, his hand curled into a fist at his side as he fought the urge to begin stroking himself there and then. “I won’t be long.”

Kyojuro stood facing the thick trunk of a tree, bracing his weight on his forearm while he fucked his hand for the third time that night. 

He buried his face against the crook of his elbow, groaning as he set a frantic pace. The sheer amount of fluid drooling from his tip lubricated his fist as he pumped it back and forth. His balls were heavy and desperate for release, his breaths shuttering. He moaned your name into the night; legs trembling, abdominal muscles quivering. His blond and red hair was limp with sweat as he sought an end to the torment. 

“Come on,” he hissed through his clenched teeth. There had to be an end to it. He simply couldn’t cum forever. And yet, as his climax tore through him and his legs buckled beneath him, sending him collapsing onto one knee, he found he could not stop tugging his cock.

“Oh– oh … gods…” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he pulled back his foreskin and circled the slippery head with his calloused thumb. He still needed more but he couldn’t go on. There would be nothing left of him if he gave into the demands of his arousal. Three orgasms would have to do until the blood demon art wore off.

Tears of frustration pooled in his amber and crimson eyes as he tucked his throbbing erection back into his pants, positioning his waistband over the head of it so he could at least keep it concealed from the kakushi upon his return to camp. He was about half way back when he felt your presence. 

It began as a shiver throughout his body, followed by a deeper ache than he’d ever known. Despite his difficulty hearing, your voice still carried to him, breathless and desperate as you sighed his name.

He knew what you were doing; he knew it was obscene of him to look, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from imagining the sight of you, lay back on the forest floor, fucking yourself with your fingers with your legs spread wide. 

“Kyo…juro…” you gasped.

Oh it was wrong. It was so very wrong. He had seconds to turn around and yank down his trousers, freeing his cock before it spurted onto the forest floor completely untouched. He stifled his groans against his palm, panting helplessly as his body thrummed with pleasure.

Shame scalded his cheeks. He’d always prided himself on being respectable and trustworthy, and yet there he was, cumming at the mere sound of you fucking yourself to thoughts of him. And even as his cock stopped leaking, he still felt that desperate tug of arousal, as if only your cunt could satisfy his needs.

Gods, the thought of sinking into you… warm and wet—

No. He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t even think about it anymore. You were his friend. 

Shoving his cock back into his trousers he set his composure and took control of his breathing once more. He wasn't some animal unable to control his instincts, he was a hashira, and he’d trained for years to have total command of his body.

The night filled with sounds of your pleasure as you reached your frantic peak, and his cock throbbed with that never-ending desire for you.

He had to get away from you before he drove himself mad. But he couldn’t. That was the problem. You were his companion, traveling at his side for at least the next few days.

He could only hope that the blood demon art wore off soon. 

The next day was much the same. With the demon dead you traveled alongside Kyojuro and the rest of your party back toward HQ, a journey which would take almost a week to complete. The flame hashira was unusually quiet, his cheeks flushed as pink as yours and his normally wide and lively eyes heavy-lidded with fatigue and arousal.

You weren’t any better off. Ever since you had killed the demon your pussy had been drenched. Just the sight of Kyojuro was enough to make it throb and clench helplessly around nothing, desperate for his cock. 

And it was everything about Kyojuro: the size and strength of his hands, the sound of his voice, the curve of his hips, the fullness of his chest, and the sturdiness of his thighs. And his nose. Gods, the obscene thoughts you’d had about his nose; you could practically feel him nuzzling your pussy, breathing in your scent, nudging your clit teasingly. 

Fingering yourself had done nothing. Deep down you knew it had to be Kyojuro. None of the others traveling with you did anything at all for you–it was as though the stuff you had both breathed in was calling to itself, drawing you together and driving you out of your senses.

By nightfall you were exhausted down to the marrow and your need still hadn’t dwindled. You understood why but it didn’t hurt any less that Kyojuro would no longer make eye-contact with you. 

Another day passed in exactly the same fashion. Then another. Even when you managed to fall asleep you dreamed of fucking him, his breath hot and heavy against you as he thrust his cock deep inside. And you always woke up with your fingers strumming your clit, your eyes drawn to the switching shape of Kyojuro on the other side of the camp, his soft moans making your toes curl as you desperately got yourself off.

The next night you found a house with a wisteria crest on its doors; a safe-house for members of the demon slayer corps where you could rest in a warm bed and clean yourselves off. Relief filled you as you slipped into the onsen and washed away the grime of your travels. But even the caress of the water was more than you could bear. Slipping into the dry, clean yukata afterward was torture. 

And cruelest of all, was running straight into Kyojuro in the hallway, the collision of your bodies sending showers of sparks rushing through your veins. He was dressed similarly in a pale blue yukata, droplets of water beading down the exposed V of his chest as he made his way back to his room after bathing.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, his cheeks glowing scarlet as he tried to dart around you.

“Kyojuro!” You blurted his name, rendering him still. His distance the past few days was far more painful than the constant ache between your thighs. “This doesn’t change anything between us,” you said as you stood back-to-back with him. “You’re still my dear friend. We’ll get through this.”

You almost mistook his sharp exhale as a sob. “Even speaking to you is agony… your voice, it makes me feel–”

“Yours does to me too. I’ve tried–well, I’ve tried everything I can think of to get rid of it.”

“As have I.” He turned his head slightly toward you but thought better of it and looked away again. “Nothing helps. It’s as if…” He paused and his shoulders slumped. “No, forget it. We’ll get through this. In a couple of days we’ll reach the Butterfly Mansion and Lady Kocho can run tests to find out how to reverse the blood demon art. And I’m certain it will fade eventually.”

“And what if it doesn’t?”

He did turn then, his eyes momentarily wide with panic. “Then… then we’ll have to stop traveling together. We’ll have to be separated. Perhaps we can write to each other and still remain friends that way. Or… or perhaps–”

“No, no I don't want that!” you said, desperation evident in your voice. “Kyojuro, I don’t want to lose you.”

His expression softened, and though he was exhausted, frustrated, and afraid, he smiled. “I don’t want to lose you either. You’re important to me.”

“Then…” Your heart thrummed as your courage wavered. “Would it be so terrible if we… gave in?”

His lips parted around a heavy inhale. “I swore to myself I wouldn’t take advantage of you.”

Gods, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You were close to tears as your aching core fluttered at the sight of him. “Kyojuro… please. Please fuck me.”

A soft groan escaped him at your words. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. I’ll go mad if you don’t.”

Conflict raged behind his eyes as he pressed his lips together, his chest heaving as his breaths grew heavier. He swallowed hard. “Forgive me.”

A moment later his lips were on yours, claiming you with a kiss so ferocious it emptied your lungs and tilted the world around you. There was nothing beyond Kyojuro; his lips, his tongue, and teeth as he pressed you against his body with an iron-grip, and hoisted you up to wrap your legs around him. 

You were vaguely aware that he was carrying you as you tilted your hips against his, letting the friction of his yukata press against your pussy. You heard the sigh of a shoji door sliding open then closed again, and felt the cool press of a soft futon against your back. Running your fingers across his scalp, you felt him shiver against you.

A moment later he was kissing his way down your chest, grazing your skin with his teeth as a growl emerged from deep within him.

He pulled apart your yukata, groaning as he cupped your breasts, kneading them with his broad, rough hands as his kisses trailed lower. “Tell me if it doesn’t feel good,” he gasped against your navel, inching his way down, until the wet heat of his mouth surrounded your clit. 

“Fffuck,” you hissed, hips lifting off the futon as he devoured you, his tongue slippery and hot against your swollen bud. 

Kyojuro looked so pretty as he licked your pussy, his honeyed eyes half-lidded, drunk on the taste of you. As if he'd heard your secret desires, he nuzzled the tip of his nose against you, teasing your pussy and inhaling deeply as a groan rumbled from his chest. 

“Gods, don’t stop,” you gasped. “Please…”

Another growl escaped him as he feasted on you again, his hunger and desperation to please you far outweighing his inexperience. He ate your pussy like a man starved, hooking his arms around your thighs and dragging you toward him. He damn near lifted your ass completely from the futon as he licked and licked, sending bolts of ecstasy shooting through your body. You cried out, helpless, lost in pleasure. In that moment you were his entirely. 

But it wasn’t enough for him. Pushing his hands against the backs of your thighs, Kyojuro pinned your legs up with your knees against your stomach, exposing you to him as his tongue flickered against your clit like a growing flame. He moaned against your pussy as he fucked you with his tongue. 

All you could do was lie there and take it, fingers buried in his hair, your core tensing, throbbing, tightening and still so desperate for his cock. Gods, if you didn’t cum soon you’d lose your mind. You reached down, fingertips brushing the slick skin above your clit, pressing down and drawing back your clitoral hood so he could kiss that throbbing bud deeper, harder and faster. He damn near pounced upon it, sucking and licking as though it was the most delectable thing in the world. 

“Kyo…juro~”

You pulled in a breath and held it as your muscles clenched, a coil deep within you winding tighter and tighter until your orgasm rocked though you. You came hard, head thrown back against the futon, lips parted around a silent cry, thighs trembling as he fervently lapped at your essence.

“You taste… incredible…” he panted against your cunt, bestowing an open-mouthed kiss on your entrance before repositioning himself onto his knees to shrug off his yukata entirely. Even with the fever of arousal coursing through him he paused to check in with you. “Do you still want it, or did that satisfy your urges?”

Your body pulsed with the aftershocks of your orgasm, but your relief soon faded, leaving you desperate for him once more. The sight of him naked only provoked the primal need. He was strong and broad, his body blessed with both strength and softness, carved by a life of fighting hard and eating heartily. There was just so much of him. All of him. His cock was engorged and veiny, his balls heavy and full. 

“Fuck me,” you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him down toward you. 

He pinned you to the futon with his hips, groaning as his cock teased the entrance of your pussy. “I won’t cum inside. I’ll… Gods, you’re so wet.” You kissed him as he pressed the tip of his cock into you, teeth grazing the tender plump pillow of his lower lip and making him cry out. “Ohh fuck.”

The relief surging through you almost brought tears to your eyes as he slid into you, deeper and deeper, filling you, stretching the walls of your cunt around his cock. Nothing he could say could express his pleasure more than the rapture in his eyes as he bottomed out inside you.

“How—” He bowed his head, as he fought for composure. “How can anything feel… so… good?”

“Because we need to be together.”

He nodded, “I don’t know if I can hold back.”

“Then don’t. I can take it.”

His control slipped in an instant. Kyojuro fucked you hard and fast, hips slapping against yours. He grunted and growled, the gentleman in him giving way to the feral beast the blood demon art had created—or released. Every thrust sent throbbing pleasure shooting through your body as he slammed into you, releasing days of pent up tension. 

“Oh gods, you feel… like… nghh…heaven…” he gasped, his practically glowing.

The rhythm of his hips stuttered as he fucked you harder and faster, every untamed thrust punctuated by a sharp grunt. Calloused fingers strummed your clit as he lifted your leg onto his shoulder, allowing him deeper. Your fingernails dug into his forearm as he drove you mercilessly to your next orgasm, your pussy squeezing and milking his cock. Your body was alight, pleasure firing through every nerve as he continued to pound your quivering pussy, the lewd wet slaps of flesh on flesh accompanying his wanton, feral moans.

“Oh gods, oh godsohgods, I’m… there…” His back arched, hips jutting toward you as he pulled out and spurted cum across your belly. “Forgive me, I’m sorry,” he groaned, as his body shook and flushed pink with pleasure. “You felt so good. So good.”

He collapsed onto you, the tufts of his hair tickling your chest as he fought for his breath. And you held him, stroking your hand down his back, relieved by the lull in your desire, your body, mind, and heart satisfied for the first time in days.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“I am.” He opened his eyes and tilted his head to face you. “I'm sorry it was quick, I haven't ever… I feel… I’m mostly satisfied. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled and kissed the top of his head. His body was hot and firm against yours, his weight comforting as he pressed you into the futon. “It’s mostly eased for me too.”

The pair of you fell silent, the only sounds in the room were your breaths and the distant chatter of the kakushi and slayers on the other side of the house.

"We're still friends, yes?" he murmured.

"Of course."

"Good."

Running your fingers up and down Kyojuro's back, you felt the muscles twitch beneath your touch as his breath shivered against your skin. He groaned softly and a tingle spread between your thighs.

After a while he sighed. "There's still a lingering need."

"Yeah. I feel it too."

He raised his head to look at you, the tufts of his fiery hair disheveled and wild. “Perhaps… if we do it again it’ll go away fully.”

Your stomach flipped in anticipation as you nodded. Gods, there was no denying it, you still wanted him; the thought of fucking him again was more tempting than anything you’d known. 

And you couldn't hold back. 

Neither could he. 

Your lips collided with his once more as you pulled each other into another claiming kiss, though this time slower, deeper, his tongue exploring the shape of your mouth as his hands caressed the curves of your body. He groaned as you sucked his bottom lip and followed your lead, letting your roll him onto his back as you straddled his hips to ride him, still kissing him.

He gasped as you took control, wrapping your fist around his cock, easing him into you inch by inch even though you were more than prepared for him. The way his lips parted around a silent cry, the way his brow stitched together in concentration and pleasure as he fought the urge to thrust eagerly into you, were just too delicious to rush.

He stared, fascinated as his cock disappeared into you, his fingers gingerly touching the seam where you joined. 

There were just so many beautiful things about Kyojuro; the way his abdominal muscles twitched when he was turned on, the sound of his moans even when he tried to be quiet, the heat of his gaze as he watched you through half-closed, vivid golden eyes, the way his fiery hair spread across the pillow like the sun's rays.

Even if it was the demon's spell, you wondered how you had never seen it all before, how after years fighting by his side, only then did you see him in a new light.

Kyojuro was beautiful, and fucking him was beautiful too.

This time the pace was slower, more languid, the pair of you savoring the overwhelming sensation of togetherness. His fingers laced with yours as you undulated your hips.

“Perfect,” he sighed against your lips. “You feel incredible.”

Without that all-consuming desperation, you took the time to explore his body and his pleasure, trailing kisses down his neck. Your stomach fluttered as he tilted back his head to give you more access. His groans filled the room with every kiss and caress; oh, but when your lips reached his chest, when you lapped at the puckered bud of his nipple, he sucked in a breath, the flush on his cheeks rising. 

"Do that again," he gasped. "Please."

You sucked his nipples until they were stiff and dark, spurred on by his whimpers and the hand threading though your hair. His grip on your hand tightened as you teased his chest until he couldn't bear it anymore, his restraint faltered and he had to thrust up into you.

You rolled over together until he was back on top, pinning you down and pounding into you once more as you squeezed your thighs around his hips.

"S-so warm," he groaned, "tight…"

He lay his body flush against yours; the intimacy of his warm skin against yours far more potent than anything you had known before. 

In this position his body rubbed against yours just right, your clit stimulated by the friction of his pubic hair and the delicious press of his hips to yours. Your third orgasm was more intense than the first, your cunt throbbing around his cock as pleasure tore through you with its claws drawn, ravaging every part of you.  

He groaned. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my… oh…'M gonna cu– I'm cl-oh-hose!"

He pulled out, painting your inner thighs with his seed; shaking, groaning, biting his lip, before he collapsed against you, panting heavily and laughing in relief.

Afterward you lay together, tracing the outline of his bicep with your fingertips as he sighed against your hair. 

"How do you feel now?" He asked. "Has it stopped for you?"

You gazed into his eyes and still felt that pull. "No. Not completely."

"It hasn't for me either," he said, pulling you close. "I suppose we'll have to keep at it."

Three days later, Lady Kocho smiled as she studied the sample of Kyojuro’s blood beneath her microscope. “I see.”

“It has been a hard–difficult thing to deal with as I’m sure you can appreciate,” Kyojuro said, standing with his arms folded across his chest. “And though the initial–uh– fever seems to be over, the desire is still lingering. I suspect the blood demon art is still running rampant through our systems.”

Kocho chuckled. “My my…”

You simply waited for her diagnosis, perched on the bed with your heartbeat thrumming as you struggled to keep your eyes off the flame hashira. He was right. That initial, feral rut had taken the painful edge off your desire, but your hunger for each other was still simmering beneath the surface. Since that first night, not seventy-two hours ago, you’d found yourself sneaking off with Kyojuro no less than seventeen times to satisfy your needs. Thank goodness for his hashira stamina. 

Even as he simply stood there you desired him. Innocent things like the comforting arc of his smile, the warmth of his eyes, the sight of his muscle-corded forearm as he'd rolled up his sleeve to allow the insect hashira to draw his blood, all turned you on. 

Swapping out the slides, Lady Kocho put her fingertips to her lips, concealing a quiet laugh. “Oh, I’m so sorry to you both.”

“Why?” Kyojuro asked, his eyes wide and sincere. “Is it permanent?”

“There are no traces whatsoever of a blood demon art in either samples. I’m afraid it likely wore off the first time you…released the tension.” She smiled and sat back, resting her hands on her lap. “It seems likely you’re now suffering from simple attraction to each other, that’s all.”

Your eyes darted between the two hashira as your mind raced. You weren't under a spell at all… you were simply… into Kyojuro.

"Oh… really?" Kyojuro frowned, his gaze distant. "No traces whatsoever?"

"None." Kocho stood from her desk and bade the two of you goodbye, leaving you alone in the room with Kyojuro. 

"Well," he said at last. "I feel a little foolish."

"No, no, you shouldn't," you said, offering him a comforting smile even if you felt the same way. "I suppose we're just… more than friends now?"

He hummed softly, thinking about it for a moment before he burst into laughter. "Yes, I suppose we are." When his laughter died down he smiled and approached the bed. "It's honestly a relief, knowing now that I'm simply bewitched by you." 

Just like him, your pupils were dilated, your breaths shallow and unsatisfying. Even without the blood demon art, it was quite the spell you were both under. 

"I know what you mean," you said as you pulled him down onto you to take full advantage of the comfortable infirmary bed.

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this story, please don't forget to reblog- it really helps writers when you share their work.

A month had passed since I laid down my sword for the last time. I've spent my time at the Rengoku Estate as I had anticipated, assisting Senjuro with chores and cooking, while striving to earn Shinjuro's favor.

However, it all felt sluggish my days stretched out, feeling so unproductive.

Kyojuro was called on a mission far away, and he's been gone for almost two weeks now. I find myself overcome with loneliness, feeling hollow inside.

When I wasn't busy helping Senjuro, I often took walks and started getting into reading, though lately, I've found myself drawn to books on swordsmanship and battle techniques. It might seem pointless now, but it's all I have to occupy my mind.

Many times, I caught myself pacing around the estate, practicing fighting stances or swinging an imaginary sword, earning some strange looks from anyone nearby.

But I couldn't bring myself to share any of this with Kyojuro. I wanted him to believe I had moved on from being a demon slayer. Instead, I painted a picture of focusing on myself and preparing for the prospect of starting a family.

I've been writing to him almost every day since he left, keeping him updated on what's been happening back home and just checking in on him.

He says his mission has been successful so far, and he should be home very soon, which is good news. It's difficult to fully embrace retirement when the person you did it for isn't even here to enjoy it with you.

.

.

Today has been particularly slow. All I've done is help water the plants outside and dive deeper into my books. Shinjuro has been in his room, drinking, while Senjuro has been practicing his writing inside. And here I am, sitting under this same tree, reading the same book on breathing techniques for the past three hours...

However, my entire mood shifted the moment I heard the cawing of a crow announcing Kyojuro's return from his mission. He was finally home.

I could feel the excitement as I watched him walk through the gates of the estate, his big, bright eyes and fiery hair a welcome sight.

It didn't take long for him to spot me, as he quickly ran up and grabbed me, spinning me around in his arms.

"I've missed you so much, my little flame!" His booming voice was a comforting sound to hear in this moment.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck as he held me.

"I missed you so much, Kyo." It didn't take long for that hollow feeling I had earlier to finally disappear.

After he finally put me down, he pulled away to get a better look at me, scanning me up and down with his usual happy smile.

"You look so beautiful, my dear. Retirement seems to be treating you well already!"

"Oh, do you really think so?"

"Of course, sunflower. It's good to finally see you dressed casually and enjoying yourself at home. One of the main reasons my mission was such a success was because I wasn't worried about you. I knew you would be here waiting for me when I returned. I knew you would be safe."

I almost felt guilty. Since he left, I've been so bored out of my mind, stuck here at the estate, but if it’s really helping by keeping his mind at ease while he’s away I guess I don’t mind.

"How are you doing, my love? I know writing in letters can only reveal so much. Are you really okay?"

His voice softened, and his smile grew gentler. My heart raced at the sound. No matter how much time passed, I was still as in love and attracted to Kyojuro as I was the first time we met.

"Yes, I'm doing great. Senjuro and I have been quite productive lately. We even discussed setting up a small vegetable garden in the yard to reduce our trips to the village market." I forced a happy smile onto my face.

"That's wonderful news! I'm so happy you're finally making this old place your own." He then pulled me into another hug, burying me in his chest.

I couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth—that I was bored and missed the core and all my comrades and friends. They had all become so busy with work that I went from seeing them every day to never at all, so quickly.

As I relaxed into his embrace, I felt his body tense slightly. He pulled away from me slowly, his expression puzzled.

"Sunflower... what is it you're reading?"

I glanced behind me to see my book still lying on the ground, its cover exposed. It was just a book, surely not that significant.

"Oh, that's just an old breathing technique book I found in the study room. I thought it looked the most interesting out of the available options."

He looked at me for a moment, then took my hands in his, holding them tightly.

"My love, if you had told me you wanted to read, I would have gladly bought you as many books as you wanted. You don't need to waste your time sitting and reading about attacks and breathing techniques anymore." His voice was filled with concern.

Little did he know, I chose this book specifically to occupy my mind. If I couldn't fight anymore, the least I could do was read about it.

"That's sweet of you, Kyo, but honestly, I don't mind."

His smile returned somewhat, and he moved his hands to hold my shoulders, gently leading me back to the main part of the estate.

"Let's get you inside, my love. I'll tell you all about my mission!"

I allowed him to guide me back, passing Senjuro on the way.

"Go ahead, little flame. I need to have a word with Senjuro."

I observe as he starts walking toward his younger brother; they engage in conversation, and I begin to make my way indoors.

Despite my initial intention to leave, a strange hesitation washes over me. I linger by the doorframe, eavesdropping on their discussion.

Senjuro's voice reaches me first. "Welcome home, brother. How was your mission?"

"It went smoothly. I'm relieved to be back," he responds, pausing briefly.

"Senjuro, how's Y/N? Have you noticed anything unusual about her lately?" My ears perk up at the mention of my name.

"Y/N? She seems fine, I suppose. She's been quite helpful with chores around here," Senjuro replies.

"I see. Have you noticed her reading more?" he probes further.

"I think so. Though I'm not sure what she's been reading," Senjuro admits.

"I see. Please, keep an eye on her for me, Senjuro. I'm concerned," Kyojuro says, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Concerned about her reading?" Senjuro's confusion is evident.

"No, just in general."

With that, I turned away from the door, deciding it was best to stop listening in.

Why would Kyojuro worry about me? I'm safe at home, just like he wanted. Wasn't that the whole point of being here? To ease his mind?

I can feel a mix of frustration brewing inside me, and I'm not sure if it's aimed at Kyojuro or myself. I've always prided myself on my swordsmanship, setting high goals and pushing myself hard to protect others and find purpose.

But now, I can't even enjoy reading a book about what I love without making my husband worry.

I step into the kitchen, ready to get a head start on preparing dinner. Gathering the cooking utensils and spices, I realize all that's left is to chop some of the vegetables.

As I rinse them off, I notice we're short on a few key ingredients.

My garden plans with Senjuro would have been perfect right now. Looks like I'll have to make another trip to the market.

Letting out a small sigh, I tidy up and head towards the door to slip on my shoes. Honestly, I could use some fresh air. I feel guilty leaving knowing Kyojuro just got here, but I think he’d much rather dinner be super good than complain about me stepping out.

I had a stranger Lingering feeling. There's something about his smile that feels off, like there's a hidden pressure behind it. Why?

As I'm slipping on my shoes, I sense someone standing over me.

"Where are you off to, sunflower?" Kyojuro inquires.

"Just getting a head start on dinner and realized we're missing a few things. I was about to run to the market," I reply.

"Hurry back to me, my love. You know I don't like it when you're away." His warm smile could melt anyone's heart.

He plants a kiss on my cheek before heading back into the other room.

As much as I adore him and miss him, I need just a moment alone to think right now.

As I make my way to the village, I pick up some vegetables, meat, and a few other things we need for the estate. On my way back, I spot Tengen and his wives. They seem to notice me too, especially Makio, who starts waving enthusiastically in my direction.

I walk over to them, feeling happy to finally see some familiar faces. It feels like it's been ages since we last caught up.

“Y/N, it's good to see you," Tengen greets warmly.

“How have you been? We haven’t seen you in forever!” Makio cries out excitedly.

"I've been well, how are all of you?"

"We've been doing just great," he responds.

"How's, uh, retirement?" Hina asks with a half smile.

"Oh, retirement has been... great," I reply, attempting to sound convincing, though I'm not entirely sure I believe it myself.

Tengen lets out a sarcastic laugh. "Sorry, but it's just so hard to believe. You had one of the flashiest breathing styles and trained almost every day, only to retire before becoming a Hashira. I just always thought you were too stubborn to quit so early.”

Hina shoots him a quick glare.

But it's all true; Tengen and his wives have been around since before the beginning of my and Kyojuro’s relationship, training with us, going on missions, and even just hanging out together casually.

They exchange silent glances for a moment and I notice Tengen’s expression change into a more serious one.

"Y/N, Kyojuro is one of my closest friends, and it's really not my place, but... do you think maybe you decided all that just a tad too quickly?" Tengen sounds more sincere this time.

"I mean, you were on your way to becoming a Hashira yourself," Suma adds.

Taking a deep breath, I realize they're right, but I already knew that. I wasn’t the one they should be lecturing in this scenario. I never wanted to retire; I just wanted to make Kyojuro happy.

"I promise. This is a decision I've made. I want to settle down and start a family with Kyo. I wouldn’t want to risk going out on a mission and dying before having that opportunity," I assert.

Though they still seem unconvinced, Tengen puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“Kyojuro's a lucky man to have someone who cares about him so much. However, I think you should stay in tune with your training for now.”

“You are still so young, Y/N! It’s always possible that once you have children, you could potentially want to come out of retirement. Maybe be a trainer for young slayers!” Makio adds with a hopeful tone.

Suddenly, my spirits lift. They were right. Just because I retire now doesn’t mean I can’t come out of retirement in a few years. As long as I keep training at home, I should be fine!

“I suppose you are all right. I will definitely keep training. I’m sure Kyo will think that’s a great idea.”

“That’s the spirit. I’m glad we got to run into you,” Tengen says with his usual smile.

“I’m glad I got to see all of you. I promise I’ll try to make an effort to come around more.”

“That sounds perfect,” Hina exclaimed.

After we exchange our goodbyes, I watch them walk off together, smiling and talking.

A wave of realization and relief washes over me. Maybe retirement didn’t have to be as bad as I was making it out to be.

.

.

Upon finally arriving back at the estate, I walked up to the entrance with a smile on my face.

I recalled there was a book in the study that taught some solo hand-to-hand combat techniques, perfect for practicing alone. I made a mental note to pick it up once I returned and start reading it after dinner.

As I entered, Senjuro greeted me with a warm smile.

“Welcome back, Y/N. I’ll finish up dinner since you went out of your way to get everything,” he offered kindly.

“Oh, you don’t have to do all that. I don’t mind,” I replied.

“I insist. You haven’t seen my brother for a while now, and I think he could use your company,” he chuckled nervously.

I hesitated for a second.

“Okay, only if you're sure,” I said, handing over the basket of food and supplies I had bought from the market.

He headed off to the kitchen, leaving me in the entryway, so I decided to make my way to our bedroom, shared by Kyojuro and me.

As I entered, I noticed he had changed out of his uniform into his more casual attire.

He looked at me with a kind smile on his face.

“I see you made it back safely,” he said, walking over to me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

He buried his face into the side of my neck, kissing it softly.

I felt myself shiver at his touch. He seemed so gentle and loving right now. I had truly missed him so much these past few weeks.

I gently ran my fingers through his fiery hair as I spoke, "I ran into Tengen and his wives at the market."

He pulled away slightly to look at me, his arms still wrapped around my waist.

"Really? Were they happy to see you?" he asked with a big smile.

"Yes, they were. We hadn't realized it had been so long since we all saw each other."

Kyojuro appeared to be deep in thought. "I suppose you're right. It has been a while since all of us got together. I should arrange for us to have dinner sometime!" he exclaimed happily.

I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I think that would be lovely."

"What else did you all talk about? You were gone for quite some time," he inquired.

I debated telling him about their suggestion that I should consider keeping up with training and possibly coming out of retirement, but ultimately decided against it.

"Tengen was just telling me about a mission he had gone on recently. Nothing too crazy," I replied.

Kyojuro seemed satisfied with this answer. Why would I lie? I've never had any reason to lie to him before.

"That's great, sunflower. I'm happy you finally got to see some company. You seem so happy!" he remarked, his affection evident in his tone.

We lingered in each other's embrace for a few more moments until Senjuro's voice rang out, announcing that dinner was ready.

Hand in hand, we made our way to the table. Upon arrival, we found Senjuro had already set the table and prepared everything. Surprisingly, Shinjuro was already seated, wearing his usual drunken scowl, but he remained mostly silent.

As we ate, Kyojuro attempted to share details about his recent mission with his father, but received only silence and grunts in response. Despite years of trying, it seemed Kyojuro still sought his father's approval.

It felt kind of pointless to expect anything from Shinjuro. Even though I ended up spending more time with him than with Kyojuro lately, I just kept my distance. Honestly, I think he might even appreciate it.

After a few minutes of listening to Kyojuro, Shinjuro got up and was the first to leave the table, retreating to his room.

Though Kyojuro seemed disappointed, he maintained his neutral smile as he also began to wrap up his meal.

Once we had all finished eating, I stood up to collect the dishes for washing and putting away. However, Senjuro insisted on taking care of everything himself.

Feeling a bit defeated, I abandoned the task and decided to head to the study to grab that training book.

However, upon arrival, I was met with an unsettling sight. All the books were gone, every shelf completely empty...

As I made my way back to my room, confusion swirled within me like never before.

Upon entering, I found Kyojuro already preparing for sleep. His eyes brightened at the sight of me, and he gestured for me to join him under the covers of the futon.

Crawling in beside him, he enveloped me in his arms, pulling me close. With my head against his chest, I felt a sense of comfort wash over me.

"Kyojuro," I speak up.

"What is it, little flame?" He asks planting a kiss on the top of my head.

"What happened to all the books in the study?"

I sense a slight tension in his body at the question.

"I'm not sure, my love. Perhaps father had them moved. I'll make sure to get you some new books soon," he reassures me.

I stay silent, convinced by his explanation. What other reason could there be? Surely, Kyojuro doesn't attach much importance to old books collecting dust for years.

As I lay nestled in Kyo's arms, I feel the weight of exhaustion settling in. His breathing slows, It won't be long before sleep overtakes us both.

.

.

A week had passed, and the books still hadn't reappeared. I'd given up on getting a response out of Shinjuro. And it seemed that Senjuro wasn't even aware of their disappearance, which was even stranger.

So here I was again, under the same tree, rereading the same book for the third time.

Despite this, it was a beautiful day. The sky was bright and the air was refreshing. It would have been a shame not to enjoy it.

With Kyojuro gone early this morning for a hashira meeting, it's just me now, left to ponder my thoughts. I can't help but recall what Tengen and his wives said about keeping up with training.

Honestly, with my doting husband always around, their advice slipped my mind. But now, with some time to myself, I figure it's a good opportunity to get some practice in.

I don't have the exact combat training books I'd like, but I'll make do with what I remember from my days in the core.

Grabbing a wooden sword that Kyojuro and Senjuro sometimes use.

My target? A nearby tree. I start off slow, practicing basic strikes and focusing on my footwork. It's a few hours of intense concentration, but it feels amazing. I didn't realize how much I missed this, the feeling of swinging a sword, the rush of adrenaline with each move. It's like finding a piece of myself I forgot was missing.

My excitement fades as I notice a looming shadow, revealing Kyojuro standing there. Still in his uniform, he must have just returned from the meeting. His expression is stern, arms crossed in clear disapproval.

"What are you doing, Y/N?" His voice is cold, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I was just... training a bit," I reply nervously.

"Training? Training for what?" He begins to approach me, his demeanor serious.

For some reason, I instinctively start to back up as he approaches me. Before I know it, my back is against the tree I was just practicing on.

He closes the distance between us, his face inches from mine. This side of Kyojuro is unfamiliar to me; he appears downright angry.

"Why are you doing this, sunflower? You're inactive in the core, retired. There's absolutely no reason for you to pick up a sword and train again," his voice is harsh.

"I just thought that maybe if I stayed in shape and continued training a bit, perhaps in the future I could come out of retirement. Maybe even help train new slayers coming out of final selection," I suggest.

- Ending One (Positive fluff)

He gazes at me, his expression filled with confusion. “Sunflower, why would you want that? I thought the whole point of you wanting to retire was to be at home with me, to start a family together.”

Taking a deep breath, I realize I need to be honest and ip front with him now. Kyojuro is my husband, and if he truly loves me, he'll understand.

Slowly, I reach out and take his hand, bringing it up to rest against my chest.

“Kyojuro, I love you more than anything, and I want to start a family and be with you more than anything. But I also have to pursue the things that make me happy. Fighting alongside you and our friends has always been one of those things,” I explain, hoping he'll see my perspective.

His eyes soften, and I can tell he feels guilty for not considering my happiness more deeply.

"I'm still scared, Y/N. I'm scared of losing the love of my life, my wife. If you continue being a demon slayer, there will be times when I won't be able to protect you. Times when you'll be in situations where you'll have to fight to the death to defend yourself," he admits, his voice filled with worry.

He's right. There will be moments when I'll have to risk my life for the sake of others. But that's exactly why I signed up for this. That's what I want to do, with him by my side.

Gently, I lift his hand to my lips and place a kiss on his knuckles, mirroring the affection he always shows me.

"I'll fight until my last breath for a life without demons, so that hopefully someday us and our children can live the life we deserve," I declare softly.

He removes his hand from mine placing is on my cheek. His gaze loving and caring now.

“You never cease to set my heart ablaze little flame. You always make me remember that powerful spirit I fell in love with. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for being so selfish.”

It makes me feel better that he also acknowledges how he’s been acting lately. It makes me feel more validated that I wasn’t completely going crazy. And still I forgive him.

I know Kyojuro’s heart, I know how pure and kind it is, and I know he would never do anything to harm me or keep me alway from something I’m so passionate about.

He pulls me into his embrace wrapping his arms protectively around me.

“I want you to be happy my love, it was wrong of me to try and control someone as amazing as you. I will do everything I can to support and protect you. Wether it’s here at home, or out on the battle field.”

His words melt my heart.

He removes his hand from mine, placing it gently on my cheek. His gaze softens, filled with love and care.

"You never fail to ignite my heart, little flame. You always remind me of the powerful spirit I fell in love with. I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for being so selfish," he confesses.

His acknowledgment of his recent behavior brings me some comfort. It validates my feelings and assures me that I'm not imagining things. And yet, I find it in my heart to forgive him.

I know Kyojuro's heart, its purity and kindness. I trust that he would never intentionally harm me or stand in the way of my passions.

Pulling me into his embrace, he wraps his arms protectively around me.

"I want nothing more than your happiness, my love. It was wrong of me to try to control someone as incredible as you. I'll do everything in my power to support and protect you, whether it's here at home or out on the battlefield," he promises.

His words melt my heart.

This was the man I fell in love with, the man I vowed to spend my dying days with. I’m certain that I made the right decision.

.

.

.

- Ending Two (Angsty Smut)

He shakes his head. "No. No way. If you're going to stay retired, then you need to stay retired. That was the deal. I won't risk losing you. You're far too precious to me." His tone is softer now, but still firm.

"But why can't I just practice for a bit?"

"Because this isn't what you want. You don't actually want this. It's not your passion. This is only because of your past life." He's more serious than ever.

"What's so wrong with me wanting to stay sharp?"

"You're supposed to be focusing on your future and your new life with me! And you can't do that if you keep holding onto your past. It's not a part of who you are anymore."

His words strike me. Was it so bad that I wanted to practice and maybe eventually come back?

"This is the last thing we're going to discuss. As a Hashira, I have the authority to confiscate your weapon, so hand it over. From this point forward, I will not tolerate you engaging in anything remotely related to demon slaying."

I reluctantly hand over my wooden sword. My heart drops, and tears begin to well up in my eyes.

"Y/N. I'm sorry, my love, but this is for the best. It's only because I love you." His voice softens, his expression more forgiving.

I'm filled with anger. Why is he acting like this? Why doesn't he want to fight alongside me anymore? Balancing our relationship and our profession is tough, but plenty of people make it work.

Why does he seem to think it's impossible for me to fight? I am strong. I've always been strong.

His thumb brushes away a tear from my eye as I lift my head to look at him.

This time, his expression changes.

He leans in close to my ear and whispers, "If you won't listen to me, I'll just have to give you a reason to stay off your feet."

A shiver runs down my spine as his lips meet mine, his hands holding my hips firmly in place.

Before I know it, he's lifting me over his shoulder and carrying me back into the estate.

“Kyo, put me down! Let's just talk!” I protest, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

He takes me to our bedroom and pins me down on the futon.

“There’s nothing more to say, sunflower. If I can't keep you from fighting anymore, maybe having a child will,” he says, his voice tinged with desire.

I open my mouth to speak, but his lips on mine cut me off. His tongue pushes its way inside, making its way around my mouth.

I try to pull away, but his hands hold my head in place, and the taste of his mouth is overwhelming.

When he finally pulls away, I'm breathless.

He leans in, kissing and biting at my neck. His hands move down my body, grabbing and squeezing my breasts and my waist.

I let out a small whimper as he sucks and bites at my skin.

Suddenly, I feel his fingers brush against my entrance through my clothes.

He pulls away to look at me. "Already so wet for me, and we've barely done anything. Were you doing all of this to make me angry on purpose?”

My face burns with embarrassment, but I can't help but crave his touch.

He grabs my hands and pins them above my head, staring into my eyes with a mischievous smile.

"You want this, don't you, sunflower?" He asks as his free hand caresses my face.

I nod desperately, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Then beg for it," he commands, his loving voice contested his actions.

"Please, Kyo, please I need it. I need you."

He releases his grip on my wrists and moves to undo his pants.

"There’s my little flame."

He lines himself up with my entrance, slowly pushing himself inside.

I try not to tense, feeling my walls stretch to accommodate him.

He lets out a low groan, his warm breath tickling my ear.

He waits for a moment before beginning to thrust into me, each movement deeper than the last.

I gasp and moan beneath him, gripping his shoulders.

He lets out a groan as he bottoms out.

"Mine," he whispers before placing a kiss on my forehead.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

He begins to move again, thrusting harder and faster. I'm filled with so much pleasure that I'm seeing stars.

I can feel myself getting closer to the edge, but just before I can finish, he stops.

"Kyo, please, I need it." I whine.

"Not yet, my love.” he replies, his voice heavy with lust.

He pulls out of me, leaving me feeling empty and unsatisfied.

He flips me over and pushes my head into the pillow, my ass now in the air.

"Don't worry, little flame, I'm not finished with you just yet."

He enters me again, gripping my hips tightly as he pounds into me from behind.

"I can't wait to have you pregnant. You're going to look so beautiful."

He reaches a hand around to rub my clit, bringing me even closer to my peak.

I try to hold back my moans and he touches me. His words only make me feel hotter.

I can feel myself getting closer once again, and he seems to notice as well.

"Do you want to finish, my love?"

"Yes, yes please," I beg.

He increases the speed of his thrusts, hitting all the right spots inside of me.

I can feel myself approaching the edge again, and he continues to push me towards it.

"I'm going to fill you up, my love. Make you mine.”

His thrusts grow more erratic as he reaches his peak, releasing deep inside of me.

I collapse onto the futon , completely exhausted.

Kyojuro rolls off me and lays beside me, pulling me into his chest. I cuddled into him.

"We're going to be so happy, Y/N. Just you, me, and our child. Everything is going to be perfect," he reassures me, running his fingers through my hair.

I'm too tired to respond, so I just listen to the sound of his heartbeat and his breathing.

"I love you, sunflower. No matter what, you're mine.”

Marriage. Truly one of the most beautiful milestones a couple can achieve. Marrying Kyojuro has undoubtedly been my greatest accomplishment.

I still remember it vividly, as if it were yesterday. Surrounded by friends, family, and core members, we pledged our lives to each other. Though it wasn't the most glamorous wedding ever seen, it was enough. Because really, all I've ever wanted was Kyojuro, and now, finally, I have him.

For the first few months, our marriage was nothing short of perfect. I moved into the Rengoku estate with Kyojuro's family, assisting Shenjuro with chores and gradually trying to get closer to Shinjuro. Though I'm not sure how successful I was.

It was only six months in that I realized being a demon slayer and a wife wasn't as easy as I thought.

Before our relationship, I was Kyojuro's Tsuguko. He was simply my mentor, and I trained hard under him to get myself where I am today. It was later down the road that we noticed each other's lingering gazes, the occasional flirting, and all the other subtle hints of wanting to be more.

Kyojuro was strong, and I knew he wanted a family, but I simply wasn't ready to give up training and my duties as a demon slayer just yet.

Every day, after helping out around the estate, I would hike over to HQ and pick up where I had left off the previous day, training until the late hours of the night. I would often come home exhausted, which usually caused Kyojuro to worry. As much as I reassured him, he never seemed fully convinced.

Now, here I was, sitting at the dinner table with Kyo across from me. It was a rare occasion for us to eat alone together like this. We made small talk about our day and training, and then he finally stopped eating and put his silverware down.

"Little Flame, I think it’s time we have a serious discussion about the way things have been as of late,” his usual happy smile seemed almost nervous.

I set my spoon down on my plate, giving him my full attention.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Sunflower, you have been working so hard as of late, and it’s quite admirable. I truly admire your dedication to the demon slayer corps and your training!”

“But…?” I ask, confused.

“But… since our marriage, I’ve found myself in constant worry over you. Every time you go on a mission without me, I have to painfully wait for your return. Not knowing whether or not you'd be injured or even-“

“Dead?” I finish.

I saw his body tense up at the word.

“Yes, my love. Dead. I cannot even bear the thought of you never returning to me. It pains me to my core,” he seemed so sad, so worried about me.

I know Kyojuro, I know he didn’t mean anything bad by what he was saying. However, I felt almost offended. He too was a slayer, a hashira. I also had to deal with the fear of him returning with serious injuries or even never returning at all.

Did he believe me to be incapable of protecting myself? He was the very one who trained me. Even though I knew Kyojuro was strong, much stronger than me, it just felt like he lacked faith in me.

“You don’t think I’m strong enough anymore? Do you think marriage has made me soft?” I realized I might have come off a little too harsh, but my emotions were getting the best of me.

His expression seemed surprised, but I could tell. While he may not have used those words, that was definitely the gist of it.

I watched him get up from his place at the table and walk over to me. He pulled my chair out from under the table, then grabbed my hands and kneeled down in front of me.

His big, bright eyes were now staring up at me.

“You are one of the strongest people I know, my love. I know how capable you are, but please remember…”

He brought my hands to his lips, kissing them softly.

“You are my wife before you are a demon slayer. I cannot risk sending you off only for you to never return.”

I could practically hear the desperation and love in his voice.

Kyojuro wasn’t someone who would usually discourage anyone from pursuing something they're passionate about. So if he was now, I knew that it’s something he’s been internally battling with for a while.

“What about you? Is it not the same? What about my worry? What if you never come home to me?” I could feel my face start to heat up. Everything he was saying seemed to come from genuine care, but it felt so hypocritical.

“I am a Hashira, my little flame. I have a certain responsibility you do not have to burden yourself with. I shall retire soon, in just a few years. So please…”

There’s no way he’d ask me-

“Please retire your sword, Y/N. Please stay home for me. Please allow my heart to rest easy knowing you'll be here waiting for me whenever I shall return,” his voice was pleading.

I felt so conflicted. I’d worked so hard. All of these years of training to hopefully become a high-ranking swordsman myself. However, at the same time, I never stopped to consider my romantic life and how being married would affect things.

We both sat there in silence for a few moments, and I finally rose up from the chair, pulling him up off his knees along with me.

I looked up at him, reaching my hand up to rest on his cheek.

“Kyojuro, you are the only one I would retire my sword for. So please promise me, promise me you will always come home to me. Until the day you yourself retire.”

“I promise you, Sunflower. As long as I know you are safe and waiting for me, there is no demon that could ever keep me away.”

I felt his hand on my lower back and the other holding up my chin.

We both leaned in, our lips meeting in a tender kiss.

This kiss started so gently, so lovingly at first. As we pulled away for just a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, we realized how long it had been since we really enjoyed each other’s company.

After that, the kiss only grew hotter and more passionate.

Kyojuro swept me off my feet and carried me straight to our shared room at the back of the estate, the most private spot. It seemed fitting for newlyweds, after all.

As he gently laid me back on the soft futon, I couldn't help but stay focused on him. Kyojuro was simply beautiful. His hair, his eyes, his body, everything about him looked like he was perfectly sculpted.

My admiration was interrupted as I felt him begin to kiss me again. One of his hands traveling to my breasts, gently squeezing it.

The other massaging my thigh.

I feel him pull away from me starting to kiss on my neck traveling all the way down to my chest.

Kyojuro had always known my weak points and how to make me say yes to his every request. He knew my body just as well as I did, and now he was taking full advantage of that knowledge.

I could feel him pressing against me as he moved his hand down my body, lightly touching me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me, wanting more.

Then I heard, Kyojuro's soft voice whisper these words, almost as a demand. "Enjoy this little flame, you've kept me waiting far too long.”

As soon as those words left his lips, I felt myself begin to relax. His movements were so gentle, so careful, so loving.

His fingers trailed down my sides, sending chills through my body. His hands went back up and caressed my neck, making me tremble. He kissed me once more, and I melted into him.

It was as if he had cast a spell over me, and all I could do was obey him. He was completely in control of me.

After a moment, I felt him move back down and remove my underwear, revealing my already wet entrance. His hand slid between my thighs, and I couldn't help but let out a moan as his finger slipped inside me. He was gentle at first, just barely grazing me, but it felt incredible.

"Is this okay?" he asked softly, his breath hot against my ear.

I nodded but I could tell that wasn’t enough for him.

“Use your words my love.” He demanded sweetly.

“Yes Kyo, it’s perfect.” I said, my voice trembling.

He leaned down and kissed my lips before pulling back again, smiling at me.

"I want to be inside of you," he whispered, his voice filled with desire.

"Please," I begged.

He removed his fingers, replacing them with his cock, his tip rubbing against my clit.

"Good girl," he whispered, thrusting into me.

I threw back my head, arching my back and digging my nails into his shoulders. His movements were slow and deep at first and then they became faster and harder, and soon my whole body began to shake. I couldn't stop the moans from escaping my lips, and I couldn't help but beg for more.

When he starts to speed up I know we are both about to reach our limit.

I feel his fingers interlock with mine and his lips pressing against mine again, but this time, he wasn’t just kissing me, he was also letting his teeth graze my bottom lip.

He was biting down hard enough to draw blood.

We were both so close and we were both trying to hold back but we couldn’t anymore. We were finally going to let ourselves release.

I was the first one to let myself go, arching my back as I moaned his name.

Then he followed not too far behind.

After he finishes, we just lay there for a bit catching our breath.

“I love you, Y/N,” he finally breathed out, turning his head to look at me.

I turned to face him as well. “I love you, Kyojuro.”

After that, the two of us drifted off in each other's arms for the rest of the night.

The next morning when I awoke, I was still trapped wrapped in Kyojuro's arms.

After a bit of struggling, I managed to maneuver my way out and make it to the kitchen.

There I saw Senjuro, who was already preparing breakfast for everyone.

“Good morning, Sen,” I greeted with a yawn.

“Oh, good morning, Y/N!”

“I'm almost finished with breakfast. Is my brother awake yet?”

“He should be awake soon. We both have to see Master Kagaya today,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

He stopped to turn and look at me.

“Did something bad happen?” he asked nervously.

Poor Senjuro always assumes the absolute worst in every situation. Well, I suppose in this case it’s somewhat understandable.

“No, Sen, nothing's wrong. Kyojuro and I are just going to inform Master Kagaya of my retirement. That’s all.”

He gave a puzzled look.

“Retirement? Why? Haven’t you been training for years to improve your sword skills to move up in the ranks?” he asked.

He was right. I know I shouldn’t go back on my word to Kyojuro, but I really was having second thoughts about my decision.

Senjuro could probably sense my doubt because his next response was:

"If this is something that you're not sure of, then you shouldn't do it. If you have doubts about this decision, then maybe you're not ready for retirement just yet."

His words really struck a chord with me.

Maybe he was right.

Before I could ponder that any further, Kyojuro had made his way into the kitchen.

"Good morning! How are my two favorite people doing?" he said cheerfully.

I smiled.

"Morning, Kyo. Did you sleep well?"

"I did, actually. Thank you, little flame," he walked over to me, giving me a kiss.

I could feel my chest tightening, nervous about what was to come.

The whole time at breakfast, I felt so spaced out. All I could hear was Kyojuro and Senjuro talking and the occasional grunt from Shinjuro drinking away at the table.

“Sunflower? Are you okay?”

I was snapped out of my daze by Kyojuro waving a hand in front of my face. All three of them were staring at me, kind of concerned.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”

I shook my head a little and looked down at my plate. I felt bad for Senjuro going through all that trouble to cook, but I simply couldn’t eat right now.

After we finished breakfast, Kyojuro and I headed out.

The thought that this would be the last time wearing my uniform with my sword by my side was so weird and almost uncomfortable to me.

I knew that this day would come eventually, but I always hoped in the back of my mind that Kyojuro would be the one to retire before me.

I had been so focused on training and my duties as a demon slayer that it had never even occurred to me how my marriage would affect everything.

I was now a wife. My first priority should be the estate, and helping Shinjuro while he was in his state of grief, and being there for Senjuro as well.

It wouldn’t be right of me to go against my husband's wishes either. Especially after the intimate moment we shared. Right?

As we made it to HQ waiting to speak with the master I felt my heartbeat racing inside of me.

The room was quiet, I could feel Kyojuro’s eyes lingering on me but I couldn’t bring myself to face him right now.

Both mine and Kyojuro’s attention was shifted as we heard the door open and Master Kagaya entered the room.

"Rengoku, Y/N. It's a pleasure to see you both," Kagaya said, his face as warm as ever.

"It's wonderful to see you too, Master," I replied.

"So what brings you two here? It seems urgent, judging by the fact that you came in so early."

"It is very urgent," Kyojuro began.

He then proceeded to explain our conversation from the night before, and how I was considering retiring.

"Y/N, this is a big decision, and it's important that you feel comfortable and confident in it. Do you think you can fully retire, knowing you won't be able to assist the demon slayers as you are now?" Kagaya asked.

I looked at the master and then glanced at Kyojuro. He seemed so proud and happy that we were here. I could feel the warmth radiating from him.

But, I could also sense the worry in his expression. He was nervous, scared almost.

I couldn't do that to him.

"Master, I've spent most of my life training for the opportunity to become a hashira. To serve the demon slayer corps and protect those who cannot protect themselves. But...I'm no longer just a demon slayer. I'm also a wife, and as such, I think it's only right that I focus on that," I answered.

The room fell silent for a moment.

"If you truly feel this is the right choice, then we support you, Y/N," Kagaya finally spoke.

"Thank you, Master," I bowed.

"Thank you so much, Master! I will never

forget your kindness!" Kyojuro bowed as well.

The two of us left the room and started to head out.

As we exited, we ran into a few of the other Hashira, who asked us about what we had gone to see Master Kagaya about.

They too seemed surprised and a little concerned when Kyojuro explained to them that I would be retiring so soon.

I could tell some of their reactions to the news annoyed Kyojuro. Shinobu used the word “controlling,” and you could see his smile almost falter.

"Controlling" was never a word I would have used to describe my husband. He just loves me, right? He wants to protect me. There's no way my sweet and kind Kyo would ever do anything to control or manipulate me.

Right?