Jewels

It all happened so quickly. One moment you were hanging the laundry to dry, looking out at the wisteria garden, and the next you were being ushered into the sitting room. Across the table sat the Flame Hashira, Rengoku Kyojurou, to whom you quickly bowed as you were directed to sit across from him, your parents also present. You were so used to being invisible, you barely paid attention to their conversation as you poured their tea, until you heard the word “marriage.”

“What?” You placed the teapot down, cocking your head.

Your parents gave you a dirty look. “We said that Rengoku-sama has agreed to marry you.”

Across from you, Rengoku smiled, arms crossed over his broad chest. You looked between him and your family in confusion. You had only met this man only a few days ago. He had been injured, you had nursed him back to health, and, you had to admit, he was a breath of fresh air in comparison to the other demon slayers you had tended to in the past. But you had no inclination that he was interested in you, let alone wanting to marry you!

“Oh” was all you could muster.

Before your parents could berate you, Rengoku spoke. “I understand this is very sudden, but I have promised you parents, as I will promise to you, that I will take care of you for the rest of our days, if you would come join me at my estate as my wife.”

You were slack-jawed, dumbfounded, trying to reckon with the million thoughts rushing through your head. You looked to your parents, who gave you a stare as if to say don’t screw this up. You had caused them so much trouble as you came into your womanhood. Even if you wanted to, could you say no?

“Yes.” Your voice was so meek compared to his. “Yes, Rengoku-sama, I will marry you.”

As a young girl, you had always dreamt what your wedding would be like. You imagined that you would marry a demon slayer, a modest-ranking one that you had grown to love over many years. You knew that your wedding would be small, but you couldn’t help but yearn for all of your friends and family to attend, to celebrate with you. 

However, despite his status, the ceremony and rituals went by quickly, as you said the words you were supposed to say, afraid to mess up. After you and Rengoku were officially married, accompanied by your parents and his father and brother, that was it; your family sent you off, your mother barely giving you a kiss goodbye.

Everything was a blur, until you were finally alone with him.

It was like you had dropped back into your body as you took the first step into the apartment. All of the festivities were done, now you were consigned to your new life, and you shook like a leaf as you heard him close and lock the door behind you.

“My love…” his hands fell upon your shoulders, making you flinch. You could feel his blazing warmth from behind as his chest pressed against your back. His breath tickled your neck and his mouth came close to your ear. “Do not be afraid.”

You wanted to tell him you weren’t, but you couldn’t even speak. You had partook in the ceremony, drank sake with him, but now that you were alone, you couldn’t help but imagine all of the things he could do to you. You weren’t stupid; unfortunately, you knew what men were like.

Slowly, he turned you around to face him, but you couldn’t bring your gaze up from his chest; it was just too much to bear. But with a firm gentleness, he took your chin and lifted up, making you look at him. It was then that he kissed you, your first kiss, as his huge frame towered over you, absorbing you into him as his hands cupped your face and he pressed closer into you. 

“R- Rengoku-sama.” You pulled away, gossamer strings of your shared spit following you. 

“Please dear, I am your husband. Call me Kyojurou.” He looked at you with burning adoration. “And do not fret, I will be gentle with you.”

You didn’t have time to express your concerns before he dove in to latch his lips at your neck. His haori fluttered around you, cocooning you together. Your hands just stayed at his chest, ready to push just in case. When you tried to move away from him, he followed, or chose another available patch of skin to sink his teeth into. You whimpered and pushed against him, but he was so strong you weren’t sure if he felt your weak protests.

“Are you sensitive?” He placed a wet kiss on your ear. “Is that why you’re squirming?”

“Kyo- Kyojurou,” you whined. “Please, slow down.”

“I’m sorry my love.” He pulled away, grasping your hands tightly in his. “I am just so excited to have you all to myself.”

When you had met him at the sanctuary, not long ago, you had felt safe in his presence. He was a real Hashira, the kind that wanted to protect people, at least that’s what you thought. You trusted him, confided in him about some of the mistreatment you had endured at the hands of demon slayers who saw you as a lowly servant (although you had left out the worst of it in fear that he would think of you differently, or perhaps, do the same to you).

You could imagine yourself loving him, but you were still so afraid that he would hurt you.

He kissed you again, passionate and hot, letting his hands roam over your body. You tensed, but did your best to be pliant for him; he was your husband now, after all. All you could do was brace yourself against his chest while he gripped your hips, splayed his hand over your stomach, groped over your clothed breasts. 

“My love…” Kyojurou purred, sucking your face. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, wanted you.”

Unfortunately, you had a guess, but you said nothing as usual.

‘’Please, let me take you tonight.” He kissed down your neck, eventually dropping to his knees to kiss down your arms, your fingertips. “Let us consummate our marriage tonight.” 

You had never been in such a position; a powerful man at your feet, looking up at you with pleading eyes. His hands slipped beneath your skirt, massaging your thighs with firm thumbs. You steadied yourself on his shoulders, feeling desire spark through you. Was it because of the positioning, or the fact that he asked? You weren’t aware you had a choice.

“Y- yes…”

He grinned up at you, taking your affirmation as confirmation to reach up under your dress and pulled your underwear down. You swallowed, thick and nervous, as he pushed your skirt up and took in the sight of you. 

“Please, my love… the table.” It was like he couldn’t take his eyes off you, hypnotized by your newly exposed flesh. “Lay over the table.”

You shuffled backwards, looking over your shoulder as you pressed yourself up over the table. Kyojurou did the rest, parting your legs and hoisting them over his shoulders, forcing you to lay back on the surface as he made quick work of you.

With arms curled around your legs, he spread you open just enough to lick at your slit. Your back arched, unsure of the feeling. You had never been touched like this before, and didn’t know how pleasurable it could be when he tongued at your clit. You squeaked in surprise at the sensation, clasping a hand over your mouth.

Kyojurou stopped, peeking his head up to look at you. “Don’t. I want to hear you.”

“B- but, Kyo—” your fists shook against the table as he continued his ministrations. “Your- your family…”

“They’re on the opposite side of the manor.” His words were quick and snappy, as if you were dragging him away from his favorite activity, before diving back in to suck at your sensitive parts.

Still, you tried to keep quiet, but he made it impossible. It felt so good. His tongue swirling around your clit, fingers prodding at your leaking hole from beneath. It didn’t even sting when he eased a finger into you, instead, it only pushed you closer to your inevitable end. 

“O- o- oh! Kyojurou!” You moaned, rutting against his face. “Please stop, or I’ll…”

That didn’t deter him in the slightest. His fingers reached deeper, curling inside of you while he feverishly licked your cunt. Your fingers scratched against the wooden surface as the knot between your legs unraveled, gushing on his tongue. He didn’t stop there, much to your dismay, fingers and mouth still fucking you until you rode out your high, body twitching and breathless. 

“I’m sorry…” he stood, ragged as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “You were just too sweet not to taste.”

He began to undo his belt. You sat up quickly, hands coming to his chest. “Rengoku-sama, wait…”

“What is it, my love?” He looked at you earnestly.

You faltered at the way he gazed down at you. Your face went hot, and you became aware of the cold air against your wet cunt. You had felt so good, something you had never felt before. You thought sex could only be pain and crying and fear.

He watched you for a little longer, as if trying to decipher what was wrong. His eyes trailed down your body, noticing your shiver. “Oh, I understand. You’d like to consummate in our marriage bed.”

You nodded shyly, as if that was what you were thinking all along. Then he swept you up into his arms, carrying you off to the bedroom. He held you like it was effortless. You almost forgot that he was a Hashira, specially selected for his strength. Yet, he set you down on the bed with a gentleness you hadn’t felt since you were a child. 

There was no time to think about that as he came over you, laying you down with a smile on his face. He stared into your eyes as he prodded between your legs, still wet and wanting. You just blinked up at him, lips parting as he guided himself inside of you. As you had expected, the stretch was painful. Tears blossomed at the corners of your eyes, which you tried to hide, but your husband was perceptive.

“I’m sorry, my love, I know it hurts…” his voice strained, and you could tell he was holding himself back. “Just let me…”

He gasped as he pushed in further, and you whimpered as he sheathed himself fully inside of you, taut and tender. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He allowed you to adjust, attentive to your expressions as you swallowed him whole. Every few seconds, he pushed further, sunk deeper, and your back arched in an attempt to accommodate him.

You had no choice but to stare into his eyes as he settled somewhere deep inside of you. He had one hand cradling your head, while the other supported him to avoid crushing you under his weight. Your own hands kneaded the sheets in anticipation. 

“Kyojurou,” you moaned low, head falling back into his palm.

He hummed, kissing your tears away, before shifting his hips ever so slowly to move. You keened as he pushed back inside of you, picking up his pace. Your breasts jerked up and down from his thrusts, along with your head tipping back as you cried in pleasure and pain.

“You’re so perfect…” he panted. “My perfect, beautiful wife.”

You gasped as his hands seized your hips, pushing them back as he drove into you. You felt scarily full, reaching for his chest in an attempt to create some type of space between the two of you. It only did so much. His face was so close to yours, hair falling over and caging you in. Your hips were flush together; cunt sucking him in so greedily he could only hump you. 

“I knew it,” he choked out, head falling into the crook of your neck. “I knew it since I first laid eyes on you. I knew you’d be the perfect wife. I knew I had to take you before anyone else could. I knew you’d be tight like this...”

You twitched beneath him, turning your head away. He was impaling you on his cock, and you couldn’t stop the tears from leaving your eyes, drowning in all the feelings he fucked into you. Even though it felt good, you weren’t sure if you liked it, and your mind only grew more muddled as he continued.

“I love being inside of you.” He mouthed at your ear, sloppy and hot. “I love you.”

He licked down your neck, sucking dark love bites into your skin. You squirmed under him, pressing at his chest as it all came crashing down on you. He laid into you, not sparing you from his strength and body weight, pounding into you full force. He wrapped his arms around you, overwhelming you in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Kyo… jurou…” you slurred, struggling to catch your breath. “Please, I can’t…”

You tried to push him away, but he caught your hand and held it away. “I’m almost done, my love. Just a little longer. Just– please, you must… you must tell me. Tell me you love me, tell me you’re mine.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open; what you could make out was his intense and oppressive gaze, dark and familiar. It scared you, especially as your head went fuzzy and your body felt small, so small in comparison to him blazing bright right in front of you. You now belonged to this man you had only met a week ago, but you couldn’t say you loved him yet. You just had no other option, and even if you did… well, the alternative was just as bleak.

So, like the good wife you were raised to be, you did as you were told.

“I- I… love… you. I love y- you, Kyo- jurou…”

He entrapped you in a kiss, pleading you to say it again and again. You did so against his lips until he spilled burning thick inside you. It wasn’t what you expected; it burned. You spent the last few of his thrusts with your lips pressed tighted and face wet with tears as he milked every last drop. 

Kyojurou fell over to your side and caught his breath. You crossed your arms across your chest, hands in fists and jaw clenched tight. The room fell quiet as you both stared up at the same ceiling.

This silence was interrupted by your soft sobs.

“My love?” Kyojurou turned to you, concern etched into his handsome face. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry…” you shook your head. “I don’t know… I’m… afraid.”’

He took you into his arms, which now felt safe opposed to suffocating. “I understand, my love. I’m sure this must be a lot for you; you’re far from home, away from your family, but you mustn’t worry. You have me now. I saved you, and I will take care of you from now until forever.”

Calculated and calm, your feet padded against the engawa toward the baths. It was the dead of night, and the water had long cooled since the wind storm from earlier. Now it was still, quiet… alone. Yet, you did your best to stifle your cries as you peeled off your uniform, neatly folding your haori aside. You could barely keep yourself contained as you submerged yourself in the water, feeling the sting of his touches left on your body. 

Frantic, you scrubbed your skin raw, choking on sobs as hot tears poured down your face and dripped into the bath. You hated having to face yourself like this, to scrub every inch of your body in an attempt to undo what had been done. You didn’t know this would only be the first of many. 

You knew that Sanemi had a temper, but you could never imagine that he would take it out on you, his tsuguko. You really thought that you were on his level, almost his equal, but he proved that he was much stronger than you. 

And he had to do it in the worst, most humiliating way.

It felt like hours before you dragged yourself out from the bath, hands and feet pruned. As you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, all you wanted was to go home. You thought you could make a difference in this world, that you could prove yourself, but you were constantly reminded of how other you were. 

Whether it be that you were from a faraway land, or that you looked different, you never felt like you fit in. Yet, you thought Sanemi didn’t care about that kind of thing, that he could see past your differences, but he used it against you all the same. 

“You think you’re so strong, huh?” He had easily pinned your wrists against the floor. “I’ve just been going easy on you.”

You cringed at the memory; you could still feel him on you, inside of you. It was like he was trying to teach you some sort of lesson: Despite being a great swordsman, you could always be overpowered by a man. Or maybe just him. Sanemi did have so much power over you, being your mentor, the one who could say whether you advance to the status of a hashira or not. 

As you sat with him for breakfast the next morning, you weren’t sure if that’s what you wanted anymore. He acted as if nothing had happened, slurping broth from his bowl and shovelling food into his mouth. You barely touched your plate. 

“C’mon.” He nudged you. “You have to eat to replenish your strength for training today.”

You didn’t know this would become a regular occurrence. When the sun disappeared behind the hills, and the breeze began to pick up, he would take you. You could try to hide somewhere in his massive estate, but he always managed to find you; to sneak into your bed, cover your mouth and force himself onto you. You weren’t sure if this was some sort of trick. Were you supposed to fight back? Just let it happen? This man could cast you out from the only community you had… What were you meant to do?

Soon enough, Sanemi was called away on a mission that you could not attend to. The first night, you stayed in his estate, the wooden foundations creaking against the wind. Even though you were safe, you couldn’t help but ruminate. Was this really what you wanted? You could become a hashira, have your own estate, but at what expense? Did it really cost your body? You wondered if the other female hashira had to endure this kind of abuse to secure their station, but something told you that Sanemi had seen a vulnerability in you that made you an easy target. 

Before all this, you loved him. You never thought he would feel the same way, even remotely, and you were okay with that. Yet, that night, when he first… did what he did, everything changed. The misunderstood man transformed before your eyes into a monster.

You were sparring in the training room. Sanemi had you pinned down, hands on your wrists. Beneath him you struggled, trying to identify a way out of his grasp, a weak point, but something in his eyes changed; they grew darker as he panted above you, watching you wiggle and squirm. Suddenly a hand brushed over your stomach, and you squeaked.

“Ah! Don’t touch me there!” You cringed, trying to bat his hand away, but he didn’t. “Wait, Sanemi--sama, stop—”

“You think the enemy would listen to you?” His hand brushed over your navel. “You think I’m going to listen to you?”

You started to panic as his hand slid down your thigh before coming up between them. You thrashed in his grasp, using all your strength, but it was not enough to stop him from pulling your bottoms down.

“What are you doing?!” You cried. “This- this isn’t—”

“It’s important that you’re aware how other men—demons—might treat you.” He pawed at your skin, grasping your plush flesh. “Being a woman and all. So come on, fight me. Get away from me. Show me how strong you are.”

You tried and tried and tried, but it didn’t work. You just had to lie there and take it.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you felt an ache between your legs. Your body had gotten used to the training, even though your mind couldn’t. Your fingers slid down beneath your dress, feeling how wet you already were, conditioned for something that would not come tonight. Yet,  you touched yourself while thinking about all that he had done to you. 

The way his cock tore you open, forcing itself right up against your cervix. How his hand curled around your throat, choking you into silence. The way he looked at you with such desire, a way you had never been looked at before. 

And as much as you didn’t want it, you finished all over your fingers, chest rising and falling as you stared out the window; face-to-face with the moon. You felt small inside of your body.

You still loved him, even though he had hurt you. That’s what made it confusing

You were confused; you still loved him, even though he had hurt you. But you didn’t want to live like this, so you made up your mind. You would leave, run away into the night. Maybe you could go home… and leave this all behind; you weren’t cut out for it after all. 

So you wrapped your sword inside your haori, and left it on the bed.

You barely made it to the forest when you heard a rustle in the brush. You supposed it must have been an animal; demons weren’t that stupid to hang around a hashira’s estate. You certainly hoped it wasn’t a demon, since you had left your sword behind, but even if it was, hopefully it would be a quick death, not prolonged like how Sanemi would—

Your thoughts were interrupted by a pressure to the back of your head, a flash of white, and then darkness. When you opened your eyes, you were faced with the sight of a very familiar window; a view that you would know from anywhere, as you had been staring longingly out of it only hours before from your room at the Wind Hashira’s Estate. Despite the throbbing pain in your head, the image of the rising sun was clear as day, which only contributed to the overwhelming panic as you caught your bearings.

In the dark corner of the room, Sanemi watched you. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”

You turned to him, and that’s when your vision shook. He sauntered out of the darkness, blocking your view of the window. He tutted at you, shaking his head as his hand came out to caress your face; even though you flinched back, he took hold of your chin, jutting it up to stare into his eyes.

“Did you really think you would be leaving this place?”

Tears stung your eyes as you realized your situation. You wouldn’t be going home, as much as you wanted to. You knew you couldn’t fight him off, he’d proved that to you several times. You were stuck here with him and him alone. 

He scoffed at your sniffles. “You’re pathetic, but you’re still useful for something…”

And once again, he showed you how strong he was. Even the threat of him hurting you kept you complacent as he shoved himself down your throat, pulling harshly at your hair, tearing at your scalp. Your hands braced themselves on his hips, digging in as he choked you on his cock. 

But he soon had enough of that, once again forcing himself on top of you, tearing away just enough of your clothes so that he could have access to you. He grabbed your wrists in one hand, holding them in front of you as he split you on his cock. You pressed your lips together to avoid letting out any cries, but often did you fail, lips wiggling and gasping with each thrust. There was a time where you had wanted this, not long ago in fact, but you wished he would be gentle… you wished you could be the only one he was gentle with. But either there was not a gentle bone in his body, or he was reserving that for someone else once he was finished with you. 

Eventually, he let go of your hands, and you let them fall limply at your sides, but he used one of his massive hands to shove your head aside. You looked back out the window, your gaze falling to the floor where your haori and sword were strewn. You wondered if tomorrow he would expect you to wake early for training, to carry on as usual. You didn’t know if you could. 

Soon, Sanemi became sloppy. His lips lingered near your ear as he pulled out to jerk himself over your body. You cringed as you felt hot, sticky ropes of his seed burn your skin and soak into what was left of your clothes. He came so hard that it hit the underside of your chin as well.

He panted, putting himself away and climbing off of you. He never stayed, and you wondered how he could expect you to stick around if even he couldn’t be tied down? Before he could leave, you spoke.

“Why?”

He stopped in his tracks, broad back facing you. “What?”

“Why… why me?” You croaked. “And why won’t you let me go?”

The mirror dungeon had an eerie air about it today. At first you thought it was due to the new packs that came with the mirror dungeon changing itself to reflect one of the sinners’ state of mind, but even the older packs felt off-putting in a way you couldn’t put your finger on.

The sinners however didn’t see any problems and there was no difference to any of the packs you’ve already powered through with your team, so you opted to ignore the feeling altogether since it wasn’t anything important in the first place.

Nearing floor ten was when the feeling started to return and it only dawned on you that you might be in really big trouble when you saw a familiar heishou pack standing in a familiar underground facility. This was your first superimposition for the mirror of immortality so you weren’t aware that Kong Qiu could be a boss here — Ricardo didn’t even show up during mirror of the lake so why did Kong Qiu show up? — but you should be fine, you were careful with which ego gifts you got and even managed to snatch lunar memory from the shop right before the final area so you should be fine!

You should be fine!

The first wave went without a hitch— most of the clashes were favourable with only some being neutral, but you were able to proceed forward with just a few minor injuries on the sinners.

The moment he came into your view at the beginning of the second wave though, you were filled with a wave of dread that weighed heavily on you. Questions and thoughts about how this fight would go since what was in front of you was only an imitation of Kong Qiu aside, maybe it was just you, but his stare didn’t once move away from you despite the several people shaped obstacles standing between you and him.

That’s… concerning. You never once had this happen to you with the mirror of the dreaming. Maybe it was a boss thing? But this didn’t happen with any of the other bosses, just Kong Qiu.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. The abnormalities you encountered, both from events and from fights, also paid attention to you while ignoring the sinners. So that must be the logic that the mirror dungeon was using for the Kong Qiu imitation.

Nothing to worry about, then.

With a sigh of relief, you commanded the sinners to attack; detailing where and how they should attack so you had a chance to win against the last roadblock standing between you and your beloved lunacy.

Things were going well — as they usually did whenever you got access to lunar memory — until you forgot that you had rusty coin with you. The fate of your sinners was sealed when Yi Sang went ahead of Faust and used his sunshower ego, failed to flip heads on the coin after winning the clash which resulted in the corrosion kicking in, causing Faust to get staggered which meant that she wouldn't be able to use fluid sac to heal the rest of your team.

Things spiraled predictably after that with Kong Qiu and Zilu completely butchering the sinners in just three turns.

…Oh well, guess you'd just have to restart.

You made your way towards one of the corpses and knelt down beside it, ready to gather the remains of the sinners and drag them outside the boss room one by one when you heard footsteps come after you.

Confused, you looked up to see Kong Qiu walking right towards you.

Huh...? What was going on?

You hastily stood right back up and took a step backwards, then another. That wasn't right. The enemies, without exception, always dissolved into the ground whenever you lost a fight. Faust didn't tell you anything about it but you were sure it was some kind of safety measure, so why didn't it kick in?

For a second you wondered if you were back at the old H Corp. facility, specifically the room where you fought against Kong Qiu. Could it be that you were still back there and you just daydreamed about making it this far because of how long it was taking Hong Lu to speak from his heart?

But that couldn't be— the first sinner that happened to die was Hong Lu when you knew for a fact that Kong Qiu held back against him, and only him, during the fight. Not to mention that a quick look at the ground behind Kong Qiu with a puddle of weird back goo on there proved that you were, in fact, in the mirror dungeon and not anywhere else.

So how come the Zilu imitation dissolved immediately but not the Kong Qiu one?

Your back hit a wall before long and Kong Qiu was quick to cage you in against it with his body. So this was it then, huh? You never thought you'd die in such a stupid way but so be it. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for what would soon follow.

Except it wasn’t pain that followed, but a surprisingly gentle yet unnaturaly cold touch instead.

You opened your eyes as you felt a hand on your chin tilt your head up, just in time for your eyes to meet with Kong Qiu’s ones. They weren’t the eyes that you remembered him having— not ones full of focus and determination that you were used to seeing, but ones that were completely lifeless instead; as if they were a poor imitation of the real thing, which they were.

If you needed any more confirmation that you were in the mirror dungeon still then this would be the one.

“Hi…?”

The imitation ignored your awkward greeting. His eyes wordlessly peered into yours as one of his hands, bigger than your own, cradled your cheek.

What was he doing…?

Actually wait, this was a great opportunity for you to find a way to escape since whatever Kong Qiu was distracted by was preventing him from killing you. That said, it was also important for you to know what it was that was dis—

A pair of cold lips pressed against yours.

You froze up.

The hand on your cheek slid to the back of your head while he placed the other one on your waist, using it to pull you close to him and pressing you against his cold body.

Without wasting another second, you anxiously wrapped your arms around his neck. He seemed to like it given the way his body relaxed ever so slightly before he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue, sticky and slimy, licked your lips, asking for your permission and giving you a warning at the same time.

You faltered for a moment before parting your lips, letting him push his tongue into your mouth as you tried to focus on the star as much as possible while trying to find something to resonate with.

He pulled away a moment after, leaving you panting and with a string of black goo connecting your lips to his.

"Mine," he said in a distorted voice that you could barely register as Kong Qiu's before pushing his face against your neck. A small sound escaped from you as you felt his teeth lightly sink into your flesh, causing him to pause for a second before biting you harder in an attempt to bring out more sounds from you.

Or at least, he tried to when something that looked like vines wrapped around his body and, taking advantage of the fact that he was distracted, easily threw him across the room.

Unlike the emotionless stare he had earlier, Kong Qiu looked very pissed off now. However...

"Don!" you cried out as the sinner in question left her ego state. You took a step towards her only for your legs to tremble and give away.

"M- Manager Esquire!!”

Don easily caught you in her arms and steadied you before anything happened. "What art thou—”

“I'll explain later," you interrupted her. You didn't have the time to stand around and talk when Kong Qiu could come over any second and kill Don, leaving you vulnerable yet again. “Help me get the others and get out of the mirror dungen. We're done for today.”

Whatever protests she might've had disappeared when she saw how serious you were. She nodded before moving to stand between you and Kong Qiu. You turned away just as Don threw a glove at Kong Qiu and began carrying the sinners out of the room two by two as quickly as you could; Don joining you later on when she somehow, miraculously managed to stagger Kong Qiu.

The moment you were out of the node with the sinners back to life, you let out a sigh of relief. Of course, you couldn't just stay here if you wanted to be completely safe but you'd have to let the sinners catch their breaths first. Besides, a question lingered in your mind after that encounter.

The mirror dungeon only imitated the things that happened outside of it, be it people or events, but never created anything of its own. So why was it that its imitation of Kong Qiu acted so differently?

Sanemi hasn’t actually really spoken to you since he arrived at the Swordsmith Village at the same time as you and Genya, but he sees the way you are with his little brother. As if that relationship wasn’t complicated enough; you were always hovering behind when Genya tried to approach him, and when it didn’t end well, as it always did, you would rub the boy’s back while he cried silently. He couldn’t tell if you were Genya’s little girlfriend or just had nothing better to do than interfere in their familial affairs.

Something about that infuriated him more.

Sanemi’s swordsmith could not take any longer scraping the rusted blood off his sword, so he was forced to watch you prance around the village with Genya in tow. And Genya… pathetic. It was only more reason for Sanemi to avoid him; it was embarrassing to watch his little brother give you nervous smiles with flushed cheeks, nearly jumping out of his skin when you touched him. The boy practically melted whenever you were nearby. It annoyed Sanemi to no end. What was so special about you to garner a crush on?

In an attempt to avoid the both of you, Sanemi spent most of his time traversing the woods, training and exercising, but the silence only gave him more time to dwell. As his heartbeat accelerated, trying to achieve his mark, he’d be flooded with so much anger and adrenaline that on occasion he’d have to call it quits early, because he got ridiculously hard at the thought of you. You must have been some kind of witch, maybe a demon or something like Genya, enchanting him this way, forcing him to get rid of his boner to the thought of you.

At least when he did that, he could imagine you getting what you deserved: a rough pounding to put you in your place. Obviously you weren’t getting it elsewhere… Usually, these thoughts lead him to dirty his hand with his own seed. What a waste. Sanemi can’t help but scoff at himself, trying to deny that there was something about you—something about you that he wanted to take.

So what a coincidence when he descended the mountain from his daily marathon to see you waiting for him near the dimly lit gate leading back to the village.

“Shinazugawa-sama! I’m sorry to approach you like this, but… I must speak with you, on the behalf of Genya.”

“What? The coward had to send his little girlfriend to talk to me?”

“We’re not– Shinazugawa-sama!” You huffed as he simply walked away from you, trotting behind him. “Listen to me! Genya doesn’t even know I’m speaking to you, but I thought if maybe you heard it from someone else, you may change your mind—”

He stopped in his tracks abruptly, and you smacked into him. 

“You’re really meddling into something that has nothing to do with you, girl.” He turned around, towering over you. 

“Actually, it does have something to do with me! Genya is my friend, and you have no idea how… regretful he is. And you– you just brush him off like he’s not your brother! Please, I beg you… just give him a chance.”

Sanemi scoffed, trying not to consider your words. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, addressing your superior like this.”

You didn’t seem at all perturbed by him. You were one of those stubborn girls that pissed him off the most; one that thought she was on par with a man and could speak out of turn. And of course Sanemi respected women, like Shinobu and Mitsuri (mostly), but they were on his same level, unlike you; a lowly… what even were you? A slayer? A kakushi? Who knows…

“Like I said.” You sighed. “I’m sorry, but I feel like I would be failing Genya if I didn’t at least try.”

Sanemi crossed his arms. “What does he see in you, anyway?”

“It- It isn’t like that, and this isn’t about me—”

“Well, it is now, isn’t it?” He stepped closer, cornering you against the gate wall. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“Yes! B- but—”

He struck the wall beside your head, his arm caging you in. “Well, I got a message for him.”

You recoiled, trying to escape his gaze. At your sides, your hands bawled into shaky little fists as you shivered under his presence. Yes, girls like you pissed him off, but there was nothing he enjoyed more than putting the fear of god into them. Just like he had you now.

It’s silent for a moment, and you realize he’s waiting for you to speak.

“Y- yes, Shinazugawa-sama? Your message?”

He leaned forward—chasing when you tried to back away—until his lips were right on your ear and he could smell your perfume. “That I hope he enjoys his nii-san’s sloppy seconds.”

His hands seized you. You shrieked, but he easily manhandled you; spinning you around and slapping a hand over your mouth, while the other wrapped around your middle as he hoisted you up. Your feet kicked off the ground, arms flailing, as he carried you off into darkness.

Sanemi dragged you deep enough in the forest that even he couldn’t hear the village buzzing at the edges of his heightened hearing. When all he could hear were your muffled screams and sobs, he decided that was good enough, and threw you to the ground.

You fell straight down, head smacking against the ground. He descended on you, taking advantage of the disorientation from the rattle in your skull. However, that quickly went away when he began to tear at your clothes; that’s when you began to slap at him and kick your legs from beneath. 

“Wait, wait!” You cried as he pushed your skirt over your hips. “Shinazugawa-sama, please, I won’t tell anyone! Please please please don’t do this!”

You struggled as much as you could, but it simply was not enough. He ripped apart your undergarments with sheer strength, making you scream. God, he loved when girls would get loud like this, trying to fight him; it just made him harder, especially when he began to unbuckle his pants.

“I swear!” You panicked. “Not even Genya! Just please let me go!”

“But I want you to tell him.” Sanemi sighed as he felt the breeze on his cock. “Then maybe you’ll both leave me the fuck alone.”

Your hips jerked away from him when his cock grazed your cunt. You tried to escape, but he was much too fast for you, grabbing your wrists and collecting them underneath one hand above your head. With the other hand, the base of his cock and led it to your unprepared and unwilling sex. You were so tight it was almost painful for him, so he could only imagine what you were feeling.

He internally groans as he trudges to the mattress, laying his sword down and collapsing next to you. He leans his head back against the headboard, closing his eyes and trying to ignore your snores. You’ve been doing this a lot lately, coming into his bed when you know that he is very particular about his sleep. He could go to your room, but your mattress is too soft in all the wrong places—

Once again, you distract him. In your sleep, you must have sensed his warmth, and now you’re snuggling into his chest. He tries to adjust himself a bit, annoyed, and ends up with your head in his lap. He’s nearly banging his head on the headboard in anguish, until he feels something… warm down there. 

You’re drooling on his pants. 

His breath hitches at the sight of your lips parted, the slick of your mouth leaking right onto his crotch. Involuntarily, his hips twitch, and he feels your warm, plush lips against the growing bulge in his pants. 

There was one thing that never failed to help him fall asleep, no matter the situation… even when you had stolen his bed and he was forced to sleep in yours, fisting his cock and cumming on your pillow put him right to sleep. 

He began to pet your hair, raking his fingers through silky locks. He had done so much for you over the years, after Tsutako died and you became his responsibility. Once he became a Hashira, he bought you the best washes for your hair and creams for your skin. When he saw a pretty dress in a faraway town that just happened to be your size, he brought it back to you, along with other pretty trinkets like rings and necklaces. 

“Giyuu-nii?” You stir, voice groggy. “You’re home.”

There’s a pleasant, sleepy smile across your face, but your eyes remain closed as you nuzzle further into him. Unknowingly, your cheek brushes against his clothed bulge, his eyes lighting up at the sensation. He realizes you’ve fallen back asleep when you start to snore again. 

He lets out a sigh of relief, but there’s no reprieve for his cock that twitches under your face.

You have blossomed into such a beautiful young woman, and he dreads the day he’ll have to marry you off. Giyuu didn’t like to think about that; he could barely stand the stares you got when he took you to the market. He reckoned he was just scared something would happen to you before your wedding day, like Tsutako, but he knew that wasn’t entirely it. 

You cared for the estate while he was gone, cultivating the garden and adding your womanly touches. You made sure he was properly fed, and tended to him when he was sick. When he returned home after a mission, you’d come running, engulfing him in an embrace and smiling up at him. You kept him human, filling a quiet space in his heart with your laughter and ramblings.

So no, he couldn’t let you go. Thinking of you lying like this in another man’s bed made him sick.

That’s it, he thinks, hands racing to unbuckle his belt. You don’t wake as he shifts his hips to pull his trousers down enough to free himself. He gasps at the sight of your soft, puffy face in contrast with his leaking, hard cock. Slowly, he inches himself closer to your lips, feeling your breath on him.

He chokes on his breath when his cockhead reaches your mouth, pushing in just enough to feel the wet inside. He rubs the base of his cock, jerking himself over you, before he gets frustrated and uses his other hand to adjust your head. He tugs your hair up, perching your mouth over himself so he can fuck into it.

His head hits back onto the headboard once again as he gently uses your sweet mouth, carefully moving you up and down. With each time he lowers you down, you swallow more and more of him until he feels your throat flutter around his cock while you gag. Suddenly he doesn’t care if you wake up; the way you choke and gag around him makes him nearly double over.

The harder he jerks your head up and down, the wetter the squelching sound from your mouth. Despite being the silent type, Giyuu finds it hard to be quiet when it feels so good. He’s hunched over you, screwing his eyes shut at the pleasure.

He’s so distracted he doesn’t feel your fingers push at his thighs, or see the way your eyes flutter open, already wet with tears. What does catch his attention is the vibration of your voice on his cock, whining as you look up at him. With the speed of a Hashira, he pulls you off, hand still in your hair as you gasp for air.

“G- Giyuu… nii…” your hand comes to your chest as you choke on your breath. “What… are you–?”

He makes a split second decision, yanking your neck back so that he can plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. You squeak as he pulls you out of your comfy position to lay on top of him, bringing you out from under the covers as he smashed his lips against yours.

“Giyuu!” You squirm, trying to free yourself from his kisses. “Wait, stop—”

He shushes you, grabbing your chin to force your back to his lips. He’s surprised that he likes kissing you so much, especially your freshly swollen mouth. It feels domestic, the way he cradles your head and caresses your face. He likes having you so close to him, to feel your warmth, your body…

“Giyuu,” you whimper, tearing yourself away to breathe.

“It’s okay,” he says, not sure if it’s to assure you or himself. “It’s okay.”

You stay quiet, save for your ragged breaths. He thumbs the tears that roll down your cheeks, letting another hand gently pet your back. Giyuu leaves little kisses atop your head, holding you close. When your breaths start to regulate, his hand trails back down to his cock, stroking it back to attention.

At first, you were afraid.

You didn’t want to be here, but you didn’t want to go back home, either. It’s not like you had much of a choice anyway; this was your home now, and it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable. You didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn to fetch water from the well, bring it back inside to boil and brew a pot of tea, which you would serve to the many demon slayers who passed through your family’s wisteria sanctuary. There was no more doing their laundry, or patching their wounds, or much of anything anymore. At least you didn’t have to withstand the predatory looks, or the wandering hands, or him—

Your head shakes at the thought. No, you don’t have to think about that anymore. You have Kyojurou now, your husband. He saved you, even though you were just a lowly servant, he chose you. You were special enough for him to whisk you away from that place and marry you. Even though it all happened so fast, you were glad that you didn’t have to do those things anymore. You only answered to one man now: your husband.

The knock at the door drags you out of your thoughts and back to your reality. You’re seated at the table, a cup of tea in front of you, which has long gone cold. You’ve been in your head a lot lately, and usually Kyojurou is there to distract you, but he was sent on a mission. You aren’t sure how you feel about him being gone; part of you is relieved, another part bored, and a surprisingly large part of you missed him. 

Now you flinch when the knocking grows louder, shaking the room. “Coming!” You squeak, standing, pushing in your chair, going to open the door. You reckon it must be Kyojurou’s father, who hasn’t spoken to you much since your arrival at the estate; Kyojurou does keep you tucked away in the opposite wing of the home, far away from his father’s side. You don’t quite understand, but you appreciate it; you’re not sure if you could be around other people, especially men, after—

The door flies open as soon as you unlatch the lock, almost hitting you when it slams against the wall. You jump back, instinctively covering your face, before you take a look. You're met with a familiar face and a more familiar feeling of fear. 

“So…” Sanemi leans against the door frame. “Are you going to invite me in?”

You stupidly nod your head, stumbling out of his way when he pushes past you. You shut the door behind him as quietly as possible. When you turn back to him, Sanemi is seated at the table, leaning back in his chair with legs spread wide, taking up as much space as possible. He looks too big for the room.

“Are you going to stand there or will you offer me some tea?” He doesn’t even look at you when he says it, instead inspecting his nails before beginning to chew on one. With your world spinning, all you can let out is a dumbfounded “oh!” and go to the stove to grab the teapot and a cup. Everything shakes as you place it on the table in front of him, and when you go to pour, you can hear the porcelain clinking as you tremble; most of the tea does not make it into the cup, instead dripping on the table.

“Have you forgotten your training?” Sanemi barks a laugh. “Only been away a couple months, and you can’t even pour a cup of tea anymore.”

Has it been months? You think, putting the teapot down and shuffling into your seat. It felt both like years and only hours. 

“Thanks for the wedding invite, by the way.” He scoffs, hand dwarfing the teacup as he slurps it.

You don’t know why you try to explain it to him. “It was a small wedding, Shinazugawa-sama. It was only my family and his. I didn’t- I didn’t have a say… and I didn’t think you would like to attend—”

“Right.” Sanemi snickers, leaning back in his chair, throwing a casual glance around the room. “Well, I’ll admit, I was surprised when your folks told me they married you off, considering they knew about us.”

Your eyes go glassy as your fear morphs into dread. You feel a bit stupid that you actually believed you were safe here in the first place. And you’re torn apart because you were so relieved to not have to deal with Kyojurou’s overwhelming presence, but now you wished nothing more for him to be here, to save you again from your fate. 

“I doubt they told Kyojurou.” Sanemi sighs, standing up from his chair. “I mean, if he knew, he probably wouldn’t have married you, right?”

You shake your head no, agreeing with him. 

Your body trembles as he circles over to you. You can no longer stop the tears spilling from your eyes, but you keep your mouth shut just like before. 

“I mean, I get it, I’m sure he paid a great bride price for you.” His hand fell heavy on your shoulder, and you internally scream. ”I just think I should have been informed about this, since, you know, you were mine first.”

Your teeth clatter in your mouth as the second hand grabs your other shoulder.

“Imagine how disappointed I was when I came to see you, and you weren’t there.” He leans down to fake a pout in your ear before yelling “And now you’re a wife! To Kyojurou of all people!”

His fingers dig into your flesh, nearly painful.

“But don’t worry, I don’t mind sharing. I’ll just have to drop by when I’m in the area so you don’t forget who you really belong to.”

His hands easily come into your hair to pull you out of your seat. He brings you into his chest, his lips finding your ear. “You’re so pretty and small,” he coos at you, adjusting his grasp on your scalp as his eyes rake down your body. “I understand why Kyojurou married you.”

Your frown deepens. You don’t like him talking about Kyojurou like that.

“It’s exactly why I wanted you in the first place…”  Your body rigidly follows his movement as he brings you to your knees, yanking your head back, forcing you to stare up at him.“You were just too pretty and pliant, so easy to overpower.”

You grimace as he drags your face against the bulge in his pants. You cry pitifully, grasping onto his thighs for balance, pushing at him gently. He pulls you away just enough to free himself from his clothes, quickly brushing it against your lips. When you try to face away from him, he tugs you right back in by the hair; your jaw opens as you gasp in pain, which he takes as an opportunity to force himself in. 

“You remember how to do this, don’t you?” He snarls, using his grip on your hair as leverage to fuck down your throat. “Just take it.”

You’re clutching onto his thighs for dear life now as he hammers into your mouth. Tears gush from your eyes as you endlessly gag and choke for air. You can’t think of much when you’re trying to sneak a breath between thrusts.

“Does your Kyojurou fuck your face like this?” Sanemi ponders with a wicked grin. “I don’t think so.”

You’d have to agree; Kyojurou wasn’t like Sanemi at all. Yet, both had their ways of making you feel gross inside. Maybe Kyojurou wasn’t rough like this with you, but you couldn’t hide from his intense stare, his overbearing presence, and possessive–no, obsessive nature. God, if he knew what was happening, what had happened, he’d probably kill… 

You’re not sure if it would be Sanemi or you.

Suddenly, you’re let go and pulled off Sanemi’s cock. You fall onto the floor, drooling and gasping for air. Yet, your relief is short-lived before you’re grabbed by the collar and forced back on your feet. You can barely see his face through your bleary eyes as he tears your top away. In a panic, you push him away, stumbling into the table; the ceramic tea set clinking. Acting out of pure instinct, you reach for the teapot to swing at his head. 

He catches your wrist before you can even get close. You forget that these men have been specially chosen for their reflexes, their intuition. 

“Are you really trying to fight me?” He laughs, tightening his grip on your wrist. Your hand involuntarily lets go of the teapot, only to hear the ceramic shatter against the floor. “Does your husband not beat you?”

All it takes is one backhand across the face for you to stop in your tracks. 

You trip back into the table, hand immediately coming to nurse your cheek as it thrums with pain. You can taste blood in your mouth, and your head hurts. There’s a stinging pain in your eye from where he clipped you, and you can’t see very well. One second you’re on your feet, and the next you’re thrown over the surface of the table. You feel a rush of cool air as your skirt is flipped up and he crowds behind you.

“Are you going to be good for me now?” He tuts, casually pulling quiet sobs from your mouth as his hands do the same to your underwear. You can only cringe when his hands come to spread you, your breath hitching at the feeling, humiliated and exposed. Two blunt fingers breach you, making you whimper.

“You’re still so tight,” he comments. “Does your husband even fuck you?”

Flashes of gold, orange, and red invade your memory, overwhelming your body and mind. Your eyes screw shut, so engulfed in thoughts, you don’t notice his fingers leave you, not before something else prods at you. Your body lurches, but he holds you still with one hand on your hip, the other snaking under you to clasp against your mouth to silence your scream as he sheathes himself inside of you.

With his weight bearing on top of you, your back flush to his chest, his groans vibrate straight into your ear as he tears you apart. You feel completely helpless; he’s so big on top of you, suffocating your entire frame while he forces himself all the way inside.

“See, this isn’t so bad, is it?” He whispers hotly in your ear. “Just like old times.”

You try to pull away as your mind is attacked by memories of the “old times.” You remember the way your stomach would twist when you saw him walking up the steps to the sanctuary, the way your hands shook when you poured him his tea, much to your family’s dismay. You had begged them to help you, to at least not force you to be around him when he came, but they did nothing. Even after he left you in a dark room with blood dripping down your thighs and bites and bruises and marks all over you, they stayed silent.

No wonder they were so eager to give you to Kyojurou. If you had stuck around, you would only bring them more trouble. It didn’t hurt that Kyojurou refused a dowry, and offered to pay them instead. But if Kyojurou knew about this… would he still want you? Would he kill you? Would he return you back to your family? No, you couldn’t go back there, you would- you would—

Sanemi brings you back to reality when he begins to move. With each thrust he punches a whine from your throat, barely muffled by the hand clamped down on your mouth. You hate the way your clothes sound rustling against the table, accompanying the sound of his hips driving into yours. 

For being such a big talker, Sanemi is surprisingly quiet while he’s fucking you. All you can hear from him are sharp breaths and breathless curses. So there’s nothing to distract you from the way his thrusts slick up, the sound of your hips coming together becoming stickier. You don’t know why you do that, but think about what Sanemi said earlier about being pliant; it’s as if you were bred—groomed to do this. 

To obey.

You can tell he’s close to done, based on how crazed his strokes are becoming and the way he’s starting to ramble. “Sh- shit, you feel so good. You have the best fucking cunt in the country. You always make me finish so fast…”

He lets go of your mouth, peeling himself off of your back to seize your hips with both hands. His harsh thrusts punch tearful gasps from your throat, while your fingers uselessly brush against the table; your sock-clad feet kick beneath it, but your toes curl.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He gasps. “I’m gonna cum inside you.”

“W- w- wait,” your voice wobbles. “Shinazugawa-sama, please, you can’t…”

Your hands fly back to push at his hips, but it does nothing to deter him, much like your words.

“I’ve never felt you tense up like that.” He laughs, breathless. “I should’ve bred you sooner. Then goddamn meatheads like Kyojurou would know that you’ve been claimed already.”

You know what it feels like, thanks to Kyojurou, but Sanemi’s orgasm ravages you. He fucks him and yourself into overstimulation, sewing his seed deep by fucking it back into you, and maybe even cumming again. You can’t remember much, or really tell how long it’s been by the time you snap back into it. But you can definitely feel his cum burning hot inside of you, barely dripping out. 

Your skirt is haphazardly pulled down over trembling knees, and your chest is barely covered by the shredded fabric of your top. You’re seated back at the table again, shards of the teapot sprinkled on the floor like breadcrumbs. A sob escapes your mouth, but you quickly bring your hand up to silence yourself. 

“Where’d they send your golden boy, anyway?” Sanemi asks, casually tucking himself back into his pants before heading for the door. You don’t know why you expected him to stay or to steal you away, but like the wind, he could never be tied down; just like you couldn’t stop him from drifting back into your life.

Your head lolls to look at him, his stoic face. You feel how raw your face is from the tears and the spit smeared on it. Your lips tremble, puffy and swollen. When you blink, it feels like forever.

Tengen:

“You are aware I trained to build an immunity to poison, correct?” he asks, almost mockingly, reaching a large hand down to ruffle your head playfully. Was your hair always this soft?

“Tengen!” you scold, and he can’t stop his mouth from twitching when he hears your cute voice, “We have to get you to Shinobu! This could be really bad!”

You’re tugging on his big arm, two small hands not even able to wrap around his muscular bicep. He loves how tiny you are in comparison to him. So soft and warm.

“Tengen?” you call to him. He doesn’t know when he even got on top of you...when he caged you underneath his big frame. But now that you’re here…

Arms raised and reaching behind you so that you can wrap them around his neck for support as he grips your ankles from behind.

“You know,” he grunts as he plows into you, heavy cock battering your poor pussy, “I wish you would have done this a long time ago!”

“Tengen! Tengen!” is all you can say, grateful that your back is facing him so that he can’t see how your eyes are rolled back, how your drool runs down your chin.

“Y/n!” he groans, finally letting go of your legs so that you can kneel as he wraps both his huge arms around your frame and plows into you, thrusting even as you feel your legs shake from the hot cum that threatens to drown your insides.

Kyojuro:

“Kyo!” you cry out, running and holding onto him as he falls to his knees, “Are you okay?!”

“Y-yes!” he shouts, “In fact, I’ve never felt better! I feel ready to fight an army of demons right now! I’m so warmed up! I could just-!” He dashes around madly, launching himself off trees with such speed that you’re only able to see the blurred sight of his haori zooming around.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” he asks, suddenly face to face with you, eyes wide and glowing like always. But he’s breathing hard and you can see the sweat trickling down his face.

“Kyojuro…” you start, placing your hand on his forehead, “You’re really burning up! Let’s sit down for a second, okay?”

Sitting in a clearing, hoping the cool wind would make him feel a little better, you search your bag for some water.

“Y/n!” Kyojuro shouts, “You’re very beautiful!”

“Thank you,” you mumble, trying not to stare at the man who already has his shirt tossed to the side, muscular chest rising and falling with every labored breath he takes.

“Very! Very beautiful!” he exclaims and the heat rushes to your cheeks. Suddenly feeling thick arms wrap around you from behind, feeling blond hair tickling against your cheek, those burning eyes staring into yours once more.

“Forgive me,” he apologizes, “I really should have at least taken you to a nice meal first!” He’s too far gone, legs pressed to your chest as he grunts with very rough thrust.

He’s panting and every now and then, when your walls clench around him as you cum once more, he lets out a guttural groan that sends shivers down your spine.

Giyuu:

“Giyuu!” you shout, “I’m sorry! I didn’t think you’d jump in! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says coldly, straightening himself off the ground and already beginning to walk away from the scene. You follow close after him.

“So…” you begin, trying to make conversation.

“It’s a nice night out,” he suddenly says, making you pause. Did he just speak without being asked a question? Because he wanted to?

“Y-yes it is!” you respond. He clears his throat. He’s undoing the top buttons of his uniform, face flushed.

“Giyuu?” you call.

“It’s…really hot…” he’s panting now.

“Giyuu! Just take it easy! I’m sure that help is coming soon! The Kakushi can’t be far behind!” you try to comfort him, but upon hearing that more people are on their way, he grabs your wrist and dashes further into the forest.

“I-I’m sorry. I can’t hold back anymore!” he apologizes as hot cum shoots up into your womb. Your legs are wrapped around his waist as he stands tall, knees buckling only whenever he cums.

You dig your nails into his back and he lets out a pleasured whine, his hands gripping even tighter on your ass as he continues to bounce you on his cock.

Sanemi:

“Fucking! Dammit! What the hell was that!” Sanemi shouts, coughing as he lifts himself from the ground.

“I told you not to get close!” you scold, patting his back, “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine!” he barks, turning away from your touch, already walking away from you.

But he’s not. You can see that he stops walking every now and then, gripping onto the bark of a tree, clutching his stomach.

“Sanemi!” you call and he can’t prevent his legs from shaking.

“Don’t! Don’t say anything!” he begs in a low, pained voice. He can’t bear to hear it. He’s already hard enough.

“It’s okay,” you comfort, placing your hands on his burning chest, slowly rubbing him in hopes of calming him down.

“Fuck! God-fucking! Fuck!” Sanemi yells, one hand gripping your hair mercilessly while the other digs into your hip, pulling you back to him as he thrusts into you from behind. You’re both on your knees, both panting and sweating and moaning as you feel that release coming up.

It’s on the drive home that he shows it. You knew it was difficult for your husband to say “Goodbye” as he let go of your child’s hand. You could see it in the way his smile quivered when they turned back to wave to you, shouting, "Love you, Mom! Love you, Dad!" before entering the classroom.

“I guess summer break’s over,” he chuckles. His voice wavers, knuckles turning white from the grip he has on his knees. He’s still smiling, but his face falls before he tries to keep up his cheerful façade.

“It is, honey,” you say softly, stealing a glance of him before turning your eyes back to the road. He nods fervently - sniffling - staring outside the window. But you already know the tears are rolling down his face.

You're only able to throw your keys down after locking the door before you're whipped around by two strong arms. A heated kiss pressed to your lips, big hands cupping your face.

In-between passionate gasps for breath as he licks across your lips, he murmurs, "How about another baby, huh?"

He doesn't bother completely stripping himself. Only undoes his belt, tugs his pants and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing cock. Lays you out on the floor, dress lifted so that he can watch the plap! plap! plap! of skin hitting skin, panties conveniently pushed to the side.

"I can't fucking wait..." he pants, drool running down his chin, "Gonna...fuck...gonna make you a Mommy again...I fucking...promise..."

After three rounds, he's completely drunk in the feel of you. The warmth of your shared arousal, the tightening grip of your cum-covered walls, the flashing memories of your big belly and heavy tits, they give him even more strength to fuel the near-bruising thrusts of his hips into yours.

"Honey," you warn him, doing your best to keep your eyes from rolling too far to the back of your head as he continues to pound into you, licking a long stripe up your neck, trying to read the time on the clock that hangs in your kitchen, "Honey...'s almost time...Honey...they're almost out of school..."

Your last sentence is almost inaudible - your voice turning into a high-pitched whimper as he slips a hand between your sweat-covered bodies, rubbing loving circles to your sensitive bud.

giyuu, who's suddenly very concerned by all of the eyes on him when the two of you arrive at the next hashira meeting.

"what?"

everyone looks away, and that only increases giyuu's inner turmoil. is there something on his face? pat, pat. nope, nothing there. did he not put any clothes on? nope, he's fully clothed.

there's only one person who's got the nerve (or maybe lack of social skills) to actually voice out everyone's opinions.

"you're quite loud during intercourse!" kyojuro announces, and the sudden horror drags your heart to the center of the earth.

the fact that tengen is hiding his snickering, whilst everyone else's faces (including Kyojuro's) turn crimson, only furthers your despair.

you try to make your excuses, but the damage is already done. oh gods...

kyojuro looks like his head is about to explode. sweat is dripping down his face, and tengen raises a brow at how his friend's heartbeat hasn't stopped racing, even when the meeting does begin and everyone else seems to have calmed down from his previous outburst.

tengen pulls kyo aside when the meeting is over, he had to hurry to catch up to the rapidly escaping blond.

"oi," tengen calls, patting his back twice, "what's got you so flustered?"

even though kyojuro's smile is as bright as it's always been, the wideness of his eyes signals that there's something killing him from the inside.

"it's hot today!" he lies, "so i shall head out to find a nice pool of water to cool down in!"

with that, he's gone.

while tengen could dash to him almost instantaneously to get the truth out of him, he decides against it. after all, he's probably just still embarrassed that he overheard what you and giyuu had been doing at the other meeting. and besides, he thinks to himself when he catches sight of you and giyuu quickly leaving the Master's to hide your faces, he's got new victims to tease.

kyojuro didn't go to the water.

he found a secluded storage closet. removing his belt and freeing his cock, he fists himself once more to the remembrance of you: squealing and crying out in the throes of ecstasy. he had panted against the walls to hear you, oh precious you, with all your delicate moans.

based off of the volume of giyuu's, the silent and cold Water Hashira, groans, he knows, just as he's always expected, that you've got the tightest fucking hole he could ever imagine.

"lick the tip, baby, just like that..."

kyojuro swiped his thumb across the sobbing crown of his cock to mimic what he assumed your movements were, his thighs trembling at the realization that behind this wall, you're naked, you're lustful, you're-

the Flame Hashira places a hand on the door for support, a wave of pleasure and ropes of white spilling out of himself. he whimpers, feeling so guilty at the fact that he's cumming, once again, to his eavesdropping.

Kyojuro, please help me.

Like a faulty swing of a sword against an unbreakable object, something inside of Kyojuro snapped when he read those words.  His sense of duty to protect the passengers and investigate the cause of numerous disappearances of both citizens and his own fellow Demon Slayers from the Mugen Train incinerates faster than the strike of lightning on dry grass.

The world is muffled, even more so than his weakened hearing is accustomed to, and he rises from his seat so slowly that it’s as if he's underwater.  His chest tightens from the grip of his regret for leaving his sister alone and defenseless against their drunkard of a father.

He knew he should have gotten her out of there years ago. He knew he should have spent just one extra night at his Estate, just as his sister had pleaded. He knew he should have dealt with Shinjuro sooner.

He knew he should have. He knew he should have. He knew he should have.

“Rengoku?  Is everything alright?” a blurred face asks him with a tilt of his head. 

Kyojuro can’t make out the redhead’s features, only the distorted silhouette of green and black.  Two other figures are beside the younger Slayer, but Kyojuro does not even give them a sideways glance. 

Instead, he lethargically staggers to the nearest door and opens it with such force that it’s torn off the hinges.  The Flame Hashira doesn’t even blink from the crack of wood.  He tosses it away, ignoring a shriek as a couple hide themselves to dodge the door thrown in their direction. 

“Rengoku!” that voice calls out to him again. But this time, it’s done so with a sense of distaste.  Does this lower-rank dare try to lecture him?

The screeching winds as the train continues to race through the night do nothing to cool the blood boiling throughout Kyojuro's veins.  With an unsteady inhale, he leaps off the train, transitioning to a maddened sprint as soon as his feet hit the ground. Distance and the train's clacking along the tracks eventually drown out the voice that still calls out to him.

“Rengoku!"

"Rengoku!”

"Rengoku!"

“Are you hungry, Big Brother?” a timid voice asks, “I can prepare dinner right now.  What would you like?”

The girl attempts to hide her shaking, her gaze nailed onto the tattered scraps of her brother’s haori spread about on the wooden floor.

The fabric was still stained.

“Anything you prepare will be just fine,” Kyojuro answers, his proud voice as cheerful as ever.  He continues to sharpen his blade, and whether it’s because he doesn’t notice it, or because he doesn’t care about it, there is no reaction on his face when his sister squeezes her eyes shut at the screech of metal and winces when she instinctually balled up her fists.

Nails take an eternity to regrow.

“Alright,” she made out weakly, now on her feet as she sped out of the room.

The moment she had closed the door, she leaned onto the nearest wall for support, a hand on her chest as she gasped for breath.  Her heart hammered so strongly against her ribcage that she feared it would burst through the bones.  It took every ounce of willpower to keep herself from screaming to let out all her pent-up emotions.

She focused on the feeling of cool air filling her lungs and exiting through her mouth with shaky exhales. Her heart steadied itself eventually, and when she was calm enough, she stood upright and began tiptoeing her way to the kitchen.

“Are you alright, Y/n?”

She wasn’t fast enough to cover her mouth.  A startled cry had escaped her lips before her hands could catch it.  Senjuro’s eyes widened, but not as much as Y/n’s.  She stared at the door, rooted to the floor in pure horror as she waited for it to open.

And it did.

“What…?  Happened…?” Kyojuro interrogated with gritted teeth, a vein ready to burst from his forehead.  Y/n couldn’t find her voice, but it didn’t matter anyways.

“Y/n got scared again,” Senjuro answered, frowning as he wrapped his free arm around his trembling sister.  He turned his body to the side so as not to create any contact between Y/n and his other arm wrapped up in a sling.  Y/n kept still, tears clouding her vision as she looked into Kyojuro’s ochre eyes.

He looked too much like him.

“It's just us. There's no reason for you to be so paranoid,” Kyojuro tried to console her, his lips that had just been pulled into a taut line now curving upwards into what used to be a comforting smile.  Y/n remained frozen as her brother now brought them all into an embrace. 

“I’ll protect you from anything, from any one,” he enunciated, his hold on her tightening.  Y/n kept her face pressed against her brother’s chest, preferring the darkness over his hellish eyes.

“Look at me.”

She did not move.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, woman…”

“Look at me.” 

Y/n forced her eyes to his.  His smile was gone. 

“No one will ever hurt you again,” he swore, “I’ll kill them before the thought is even conceived in their minds.  You’re safe now.  Don’t be afraid anymore.”

She nodded slowly, reminding herself that this man was still her brother.  He still cares about her.  He still loves her.  He still knows what is right and what is wrong.  All she has to do is manage her fear; walk the thin line of obedience and play the part of the grateful, hard-working sister. 

That will keep her brothers happy. 

That will keep them sane. 

That will keep her alive.

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” Tanjiro continued as they followed the Kasugai crow through a dark forest.  “How could he just abandon those people?”

“Maybe he’s just a coward,” Inosuke theorized.

“People died because he left,” Tanjiro spat. 

Eight passenger carts were just too many for them to protect.  If the Flame Hashira had stayed for just a bit longer, then they all could have gotten rid of the demon before he had consumed so many passengers.  They could have stopped the train before it had crashed into the next station.  They could have thrown it off the rails as they were passing a desolate clearing instead of a busy city to reduce the death toll and collateral damage.

So many lives could have been saved. 

The screams and cries of the survivors on the train and the onlookers in the city still rang in Tanjiro's ears.  The curses and shouts from them as they ridiculed the Slayers for not being strong enough, for not being skilled enough, for not being enough to save their loved ones kept his body at a constant, scathing heat. 

What could have been so important that the Flame Hashira abandoned his mission? 

Whatever the reason was, he’d know soon enough. 

The Slayers stood before an Estate, and without waiting for permission, Tanjiro pushed the heavy gate open and made his way towards the main house.  His friends could only follow close behind to keep up with him.

Preparing dinner was usually a calming pastime for Y/n. Her brothers gave her space to handle things on her own whilst they tended to other chores. It was one of her few moments away from their suffocating grips and unpredictable tendencies.

A hand covered Y/n’s mouth and she screamed into it. She couldn’t turn to see who was behind her, and she couldn’t struggle out of his hold.

“Don’t move,” Kyojuro warned, “Someone is here. You’re going to stay hidden and wait until I call for you. Do not come out, no matter what you hear. Understood?”

Her muffled agreement was enough compliance for him. He led her towards a group of large wicker baskets that were used for bringing in produce from the markets. With a firm push down on her shoulders, Kyojuro had her sit on the floor. Grabbing an old cloth, he threw it over her and the other baskets to shield her from view. Then, he vanished.

"We never get visitors..." Y/n pondered, trying to control her shaking, "...so who would come all the way out here...?"

Heavy footsteps entered the kitchen, and Y/n held her breath. She watched from a small tear in the cloth as a figure came and investigated the bubbling broth and prepared vegetables. A boar’s head was tied at his belt, and Y/n suspected he was a robber who had snuck his way in. But rather than grab anything valuable, he snatched handfuls of food and gobbled them down.

"Clear," he made out, burping loudly as another person stepped into the room.

"Inosuke, now is not the time to be eating," he reprimanded, and Y/n's fright returned when she noticed the scowl on his face.

"Meh, there's nothing in here," the one named Inosuke huffed, taking a bowl with himself as he walked out.

Now, she just had to stay hidden from one man.

His dark hair swayed as he searched throughout the kitchen for something, or perhaps someone. A box was strapped onto his back, and a sword was at his hip.

"They're Demon Slayers."

The redhead sniffed the air, and Y/n retreated away from the slit to avoid being seen. No longer able to tell if the Slayer was getting nearer, she could only wait and pray that he hadn't noticed her.

Tanjiro paused at the delicate scent lurking just out of reach. He inhaled deeply, but it was so faint. His initial curiosity to find the source was quickly consumed by desperation.

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice called right in front of her. He slowly pulled the cloth away, and Y/n scrambled to come up with an escape plan. But before she could do so, all her thoughts came to a halt when a maroon gaze met her own.

His eyes went wide and his shoulders slumped. For a few moments, he only stood there, his jaw slacked. She stared back at him, feeling so small beneath his gaze. It wasn't angry, it wasn't even confused, it was just...intense.

"I found you."

No longer covered by that cloth, Tanjiro could take in the sight of the one who exuded such a lovely scent. She sat before him, doe-eyed and helpless, like a rabbit too afraid to run away. A grin curved his lips while a warmth swirled in his chest.

However, Y/n continued to tremble, and when the overpowering smell of her fear replaced her sweet scent, he was snapped back into reality.

“It's okay. Are you alright? What are you doing down there?” he asked, reaching his hands out for her. He spoke quietly, softly, and Y/n dared to accept his help of lifting her to her feet.

An unfamiliar restlessness shot from his palms straight to Tanjiro's heart when her hands met his own. However, knowing that she was still intimidated by him, he forced himself to remain calm.

“Please don’t be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you. I just have some questions for Rengoku. Do...you know where he is?”

Anger no longer heated Tanjiro's chest. Now, it was a fire that sparked and grew ever so wonderfully, the flickers casting their tendrils into the darkness to awaken something within himself.

“Kyojuro?” she verified - tensing from the unexpectedness of calloused fingers stroking her knuckles, only to relax just as quickly - “What do you need to ask him?”

“He abandoned his mission. He was supposed to handle a demon on the Mugen Train, and my friends and I were also sent to help. But when we arrived, he left us with that demon. I need to know why he didn’t stay.”

Truth be told, Tanjiro no longer cared that much about finding the runaway.

“I-” she paused, suddenly realizing that she was the reason why he had returned. The weight of all the lives lost because Kyojuro chose her over them crushes the wind out of her.

“It’s my fault…”

Tanjiro cocked his head to the side.

"I'm sorry...I should have never sent that letter...I begged him to come help me..." - she hung her head in her hands, too ashamed to meet his eyes as she confessed her sin.

She prepared herself for shouting; for him to blame her for the countless deaths that resulted from her selfishness. But instead, he asked, "What happened?"

"Huh?" She looked back into his eyes. They were warm and welcoming, slightly furrowed by concern.

They were beautiful.

"There was..." she began, wrapping her arms around herself, "My...My father...He..."

"Did he hurt you?" he pressed on, his eyes raking over her. She nodded before showing him her bandaged fingers. Just as he was going to pass a finger along them, she blurted out, "Please don't touch them! They still hurt..."

Y/n wailed as he bandaged her finger.  She tried to squirm away from him; the agony from the friction of the cloth against the raw skin that should have been covered by nail was unbearable.

"This is what happens when you disobey me."

He retreated his hand away from her. "Don't worry, I won't." There was sincerity in his voice, and although they were still strangers, Y/n felt she could trust him. Already, she had more faith in him than anyone else in this rotten place.

Noticing movement from the corner of her eye, Y/n gasped when she saw a large man attempting to creep his way towards them. Seeing her panicked state, Tanjiro immediately reached out for her and pulled her into his chest, his right hand pulling out his blade as he faced the intruder.

"Rengoku."

There was venom in his voice, contrasting the protective and gentle hold Tanjiro had on Y/n. He smelt of fresh greenery and wood, and he was warm. Warm like a gentle, sunny day.

He didn't burn.

"Let go of her," Kyojuro ordered.

"Is he the one who hurt you?" Tanjiro asked, stepping back and bringing Y/n with himself. Kyojuro furrowed his brows, confusion twisting his face.

"No," she said, barely finding her voice, "No, no he didn't. It wasn't him. He-"

She can still hear the screams.

"He isn't here anymore."

Although Kyojuro hadn't been the one to blame for Y/n's injuries, Tanjiro refused to let her go. Similar to how a demon and a slayer size each other up before aiming for the other's throat to claim a human prize, the two men stared each other down.

"I had to save my family," Kyojuro said, "So...you understand why I left, don't you?"

Tanjiro nodded. How could anyone not forsake everything to save someone so soft and sweet?

"I will not fail her a second time," he continued, now taking a step towards the pair, "I will never allow harm to come to her again."

"Sir...I can assure you that I would never hurt her," the redhead responded. Knowing Kyojuro's stare was intent on finding a vulnerable area to strike, Y/n took a deep breath.

"It's alright..." - she forced a smile, wiggling herself out of Tanjiro's suddenly crushing hold. "Big Brother..."

At those words, Tanjiro's grip became more lax, and she was freed. Y/n approached her brother and put herself between the two tense Slayers.

"I just wasn't expecting...visitors, is all."

"You were terrified only a moment ago," Kyojuro pointed out.

"I only got scared because I thought you were-"

She bit her tongue. Any mention of him, and Kyojuro would surely go into a rage.

"Anyways-!" she chirped out, turning back towards the redhead, "I'm sure you've travelled for a long time, haven't you?"

"How many of you are there?" Kyojuro growled out.

"There are two other Slayers with me," Tanjiro answered as he placed his blade back into its sheath, "We're all friends."

"Friends do not trespass into a stranger's home..."

"We were worried about you," Tanjiro replied with clenched teeth, "But now that I see why you left in such a panic..." He glimpsed at Y/n before continuing, "...of course I understand. Any good brother would abandon strangers to help his siblings. It's the right thing to do."

Y/n swallowed hard.

"Besides," the redhead added, "I'm not the only one who's been wondering where you've been. The other Hashira and the Master have also been awaiting a report. I heard that some did offer to investigate, but I'm not sure if they'll follow through or not since they know that I'm here."

Y/n's back was to Tanjiro, so she failed to catch the darkening that spread across his eyes as he said, "You and I could write the report together! That way, you'll have the most favor when they make their decision on what to do with you!"

Kyojuro's eye twitched. But a smile splayed across his face as he grabbed Y/n by the shoulders and said, "I thank you for your concern. I shall take you up on that offer, but at a later time. Perhaps when little sisters are not in the room." The teasing lilt in his voice did nothing to settle the tension, but it was better than a direct threat. Tanjiro simply nodded, holding back a smirk. Just the mentioning of the Master had guaranteed his safety.

"We should probably take care of that," Tanjiro suggested to Y/n, gesturing towards the broth blowing steam like the racing train he had been on just a few days ago, "Let me help you." He rolled up his sleeves and headed towards the counter.

Kyojuro could only ball up his fists as Y/n hurried to the redhead's side, trying to convince him that she would be just fine and that it would be wrong to make a guest do housework. But Tanjiro only chuckled and politely refused.

Kyojuro felt invisible. How could Y/n put herself in danger so carelessly? This man was a stranger, and an unwelcome one at that. His intentions are undoubtedly evil. Was this lower-rank a former student of his that couldn't meet the mark? Is that what this is all about? It's an attempt to get back at him for his own failures?

No, that can't be it.

There's a certain look in that redhead's eyes that makes Kyojuro's skin crawl.

"Careful. It's hot," Y/n warned as she slowly brought a ladle towards Tanjiro. He gladly accepted a taste, humming with satisfaction.

"It's delicious!"

Kyojuro was so lost in thought, almost blinded, that he was caught off guard by the harsh tug on his sleeve.

Senjuro muttered something, wide eyes glaring at the redhead beaming at Y/n. Although he hadn't heard him, Kyojuro followed the movement of his lips to understand what he had asked.

"Who is that?"

Kyojuro quietly led Senjuro out, patting his burning shoulders before mumbling, "He's only a visitor. Don't worry."

Senjuro let out a growl at that, the veins in his eyes spreading their crackled lines along his white scleras. But Kyojuro kept his voice steady, urging his little brother to do the same.

"He'll be gone soon."

𝐀𝐫𝐜 ₁: ℍ𝕠𝕞𝕖

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₁

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₂

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₃

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₄

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₅

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₆

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₇

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₉

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₁₀

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₁₁

𝐀𝐫𝐜 ₂: 𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎?

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₁₂

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₁₃

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₁₄

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₁₅

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₁₆

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₁₇

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₁₈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₁₉

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₂₀

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₂₁

𝐀𝐫𝐜 ₃: 𝐻𝒐𝒎𝒆

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₂₂

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₂₃

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₂₄

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₂₅

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₂₆

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₂₇

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₂₈

𝐀𝐫𝐜 ₄: 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞.

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₂₉

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₃₀

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₃₁

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ₃₂

It was sweet that he remembered so much about what you’d told him, even when you had forgotten yourself! You quickly scribbled back that you would be there; you anticipated this mission wouldn’t last much longer. You took note of the direction the crow returned to as it soared through open skies.

One week later, you followed the same bird to the Rengoku estate.

Before you could even call for anyone or knock on the gate, it opened. Kyojurou stood there, eyes as intense as ever as they took you in. He smiled and welcomed you in, wishing you a happy birthday, “I’m so glad that you decided to join us on your special day.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” you told him as he led you to the house. “And remembering.”

“How could I forget?” 

When you entered the house, you were greeted by his little brother, Senjurou. 

“One day, I hope to become a demon slayer like you and my big brother!” He told you as you sat around the table. Their father was still missing, but you didn’t question it. You had heard a thing or two about him in the corps, especially that he turned sour after the death of his wife. “And I’ll save people!”

“I hope that we put an end to them before you ever have to face one,” you tell him. “But if not, I am sure you will make a great swordsman.”

“Huh.” A different voice chilled the room. You looked up to see a man who you may have mistook for Kyojurou, if not for the lack of clothing; save for the robe, of course. He slurped on a bottle of sake, eyeing you.

“Father.” Kyojurou and Senjurou bowed their heads toward him. You followed suit.

“Is this the girl?” He wiped his mouth.

Kyojurou stiffened. “Yes, Father.”

“You’re the birthday girl?” He addressed you now, causing you to sit up in your seat.

“Yes, Rengoku-sama.”

“That’s not me anymore. Just call me Shinjurou.” He clicked his tongue. “If I were you, I wouldn’t waste another year of my life in that damn demon slayer corps… go find yourself a husband and make yourself useful elsewhere.”

You tried not to take offense, but you couldn’t help the discomfort that settled in your stomach from the implications of his words. No one spoke as he took his seat at the table and finished the last of his sake.

“Senjurou.” He snapped his fingers. “Another bottle.”

“Father, you’ve had—” Kyojurou began.

Shinjurou held his hand up, effectively silencing his son. “I wasn’t speaking to you. Senjurou, go. Bring two. You know the ones.”

Senjurou quickly left the room to fetch his Father’s drink, and you felt the urge to leave, too.

“Well, thank you for having me.” You bowed to them. “I should be going, though—”

“Not so fast.” Shinjurou cut you off. “You’ve just arrived, and you cannot just leave. It’s getting dark, and that’s no place for a woman like yourself.”

“Father, she is a very capable—”

It happened so quickly, you couldn’t have stopped it if you tried. The bottle of sake flew through the air, Kyojurou barely ducking just in time to avoid its wrath. It reminded you that Shinjurou was the former Flame Hashira once. 

“Why must you continue interrupting me?” Both of Shinjurou’s fists slammed on the table. Just in time, Senjurou arrived with two bottles, one that looked like the one from before, and another with a pink fabric wrapped around the basin; both of which Shinjurou tore from the boy’s hands. “To bed, now.”

Senjurou looked between you and his brother before darting off into the hall.

“As I was saying…” Shinjurou slurred after taking the original bottle. “It would be shameful of me as a host and a man to let you go out into the night.”

Before Kyojurou could speak, you let your voice be heard. “If that would make you feel more comfortable, and not too much of a nuisance, I’ll oblige.”

“Good. See, Kyojurou?” Shinjurou rolled his eyes. “So dramatic.”

Kyojurou nodded before letting his head hang down. Before you could say anything, Shinjurou placed the new bottle of sake in front of you. You stared at it confusedly before looking up to meet the older man’s eyes.

“Drink up, birthday girl!” He took a big gulp himself. “Come on.”

That urge to leave dripped through your stomach and burned through your legs. It was like an itch, the voice in your head screaming at you to leave. It was as if a demon had entered the area, and you could sense its intentions. But the man in front of you was no demon… there was no need to be so tense.

“What kind is this one?” You asked, smelling nothing but fermented alcohol. You tried your best not to cringe at the odor. Although, there was something familiar in its scent.

“Cherry blossom.” Shinjurou smirked as drank his. Good, he was satisfied. Placated.  Maybe if you kept giving in to him, he’d be nicer.

So you drank from the bottle, and perhaps a little too much. After the first sip, you already felt your heart racing and face going numb. You were dully aware of Shinjurou trying to convince his son to drink, and you weren’t sure if he did or not. You don’t know why you took another sip, and you kept drinking, drowning out the voices and the fighting.

You were so distracted, you didn’t hear the one thing they agreed on.

“Come.” Kyojurou was suddenly at your side, gently grasping your elbow to pull you up from your seat. “We’ll take you to bed.”

You clutched onto him as he led you through the house, not minding your stumbling feet. Vaguely, you knew that Shinjurou was following behind you, but you couldn’t make too much sense of it. There was a spin in your vision that made it hard to focus, and your lips felt too big to speak with. So you collapsed when Kyojurou led you to a mattress, falling to your knees and trying to catch your breath.

“That was quick.” Shinjurou closed the door behind himself. “I knew I was a bit heavy-handed on that one.”

“Hey…” Kyojurou crouched in front of you, hands cupping your face while you did your best to keep your vision from blurring. “You’re going to be okay. I know you must be afraid, but… Father and I, we are going to take good care of you. Do not fret.”

You had not enough awareness to know you should have been afraid. You lurched over, but steadied your hands on Kyojurou’s thighs, right above the knee. Your breath was heavy and racked your whole body, and you felt yourself begin to sweat as Shinjurou stationed himself behind you. 

“You don’t need to sweet talk, she won’t remember much of this.” Shinjurou reminded his son before going straight for your top. He yanked the buttons of your uniform apart to reveal your chest. Even in your inebriated state, your hands raised to cover up, but they were quickly swatted away by hands from behind. You continued to slump into Kyojurou as these hands began to grope your breasts, pinching and pulling every which way. 

“See…” Shinjurou pressed himself flush against your back to whisper in your ear. “These teats… should be full of milk. You’d make a beautiful mother.”

As his hands continued to rake over you, Kyojurou simply just held you. He pet your hair, whispering sweet things to you while his father slowly stripped you to feel each inch of your skin. Your face was anchored in his chest, which proved a great muffler of your cries once something began to prod at your unprepared hole. 

You struggled to raise your head and look behind you, but you saw that Shinjurou had thrown his robe aside to release his aching cock. You recoiled at the sight of it, thick and long, pulsing right above you. Adrenaline kicked in, fear coursing through you as the gravity of the situation dawned on you. But before you could even struggle, Kyojurou quickly subdued you; he grabbed you by the roots of your hair and shoved your head down into his lap, so that your ass would face up for his father. You began to cry when your face rubbed up against the bulge in his trousers. 

“You were right about this one, Kyojurou…” Shinjurou whistled as he stroked himself, taking a gander at your cunt. “Quite pretty.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Kyojurou stroked your hair while you sobbed. You were very afraid, but couldn’t even lift your head up; not just because of the grasp keeping you there, but because everything felt so heavy. Your limbs would not respond to you, instead they listened to the nudging Shinjurou provided as he got you in position. Your mouth felt too dry to speak, ears ringing too much to hear, but you felt everything when the head of Shinjurou’s cock breached you.

“Fuck, this one’s tight,” Shinjurou’s voice strained. “Come on, honey, relax a little.”

Your hands scrambled at the stretch, gripping at Kyojurou’s legs, then any loose clothing like his haori, before he grabbed them and laced them with his own fingers. Your head snapped up, looking up at him while his father violated you. Kyojurou looked at you so sweetly it made you bury your head back into his lap just to avoid his stare.

But then you had to focus on the tearing sensation between your legs as Shinjurou invaded your body. You only hurt yourself more from jumping when his fingers fiddled with your clit. 

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” Shinjurou chuckled. “I’m almost all the way in, just a little more, fuck…”

Your eyes bulged from their sockets when he grated to a stop, your cervix in the way of his impossible length. You balled your fists in Kyojurou’s haori, scream-crying into his abdomen. 

“Huh…” A warm hand groped at your ass cheek, Shinjurou’s hips shifting a bit much to your dismay. “Can’t even take all of me, can you?”

Both of his hands spread your cheeks as he adjusted himself once again, trying to force as much of himself inside of you as possible. He pulled out a bit, giving you the slightest relief, but you tensed up when you heard him cackle.

“She’s bleeding…” Shinjurou scoffed. “Please don’t tell me you’re a virgin, sweetie. Aw, that’s just perfect.”

He began to move, using your blood as lube to slick his cock. While you whimpered and cried, Kyojurou raised a hand to pet your head. You hated that it worked, soothing you into a more pliant state as your lips brushed against his clothed cock with each thrust from behind. You tried to ignore that every so often his hips would twitch, jerking himself against your cheek.

Meanwhile, Shinjurou crushed your hips with his hands, sure to leave bruises in the shape of fingertips, while he wrecked your insides. Your cunt weeped blood and wetness to ease its own pain, letting Shinjurou slip in further and faster, sometimes hitting a spot that didn’t feel bad. The pain came in waves, sometimes roaring and other times dulling into a pleasurable ache.

You almost whined when he pulled completely out of you. “Turn her around.”

The hands from above rolled you over, setting your head into his lap while the hands from below spread your legs to let his cock find you again. You stared up at them, their heads curling over to leer at your body as Shinjurou rubbed himself over your pussy lips.

“What a mess…” Shinjurou grinned down at you, letting his fingers spread you to take a closer look, before gripping his cock to push it inside of you. Your back arched and your face scrunched up in discomfort, earning a reaction from both of the men. Kyojurou moaned at the sight of your face, while Shinjurou moved faster. Your tits began to bounce in tandem with his thrusts, which Kyojurou took the liberty to grab onto and feel for himself. 

This new position let you move a bit more freely, and you did what you could to resist. You attempted to twist your hips and pull yourself away, although feebly.

“Quit moving, I’ll finish too soon. I’m already close.” Shinjurou wrapped his arms around your thighs. “Kyojurou, hold her down.”

He did as his father asked, gripping your arms and forcing them to your sides, also pushing you down into his lap and the floor. You felt suffocated as Shinjurou mounted himself over you as snug as possible, fucking down into you with a punishing force. It knocked the breath out of you as you stared up at Kyojurou, unable to stop the whiny gasps from escaping your throat.

“Does that feel good, darling?” Kyojurou hunched over you, caressing your face. You tried to shake your head no, but he kept it straight with his overbearingly warm hands. His eyes sauntered over to where his father was splitting you apart, and you saw the lust grow darker in them.

You chanced a glance downward, but had to avert your gaze quickly at the state of your cunt. It was spread wider than you could even conceptualize, soaked and leaking rivulets of red, white, and pink fluids of different viscosities. You felt your whole body shake, down to your brain rattling in your head. You screwed your eyes shut, along with your mouth, just praying for this to be over soon.

You were essentially folded in half, the top half in Kyojurou’s realm and the lower in Shinjurou’s control. You could barely breathe, and with your eyes and mouth closed, along with the prior alcohol burning holes in your stomach, your head went back to that fuzzy place that made it all a bit more bearable, and feel even a little nice.

But that was short lived as your body contorted to Shinjurou’s will, crushing your diaphragm as he pushed himself into you to the hilt. You felt every pulse of his cum as it spurted inside of you, dick twitching and all. You opened your eyes as he pulled out of you, which hurt more than you expected. Now your cunt clenched around his seed, painfully convulsing. 

“Alright, she’s all yours.” Shinjurou stood, shrugging his robe back on. “Just make sure to clean her up first.”

“Yes, Father.” Kyojurou nodded dutifully as his father left the room, still holding you in his arms. He waited patiently for his father to stumble down the hall before he looked at you properly, planting a kiss on your cheek. “You did so well for Father. Will you be good for me, too?”

You were so exhausted, you couldn’t even speak while he kissed and licked up the stray tears and tear stains from your face, so you just closed your eyes. It felt like you were floating when he shuffled you in his arms to lay your head on a pillow, getting you nice and comfy. You almost fell asleep until you felt something lightly nudge at your pussy. Your eyes shot open, first focusing on Kyojurou giving your sloppy mess of a cunt gentle kisses, and then to the corner of the mattress stained a reddish-pink. Before you could get sick, something a bit firmer slid through your folds.

You whined as he licked your raw slit with his thick, warm tongue. It prodded at your clit before his lips did their best to encompass your entire cunt to suck his father’s seed from you. Your back arched with discomfort, but his hands quickly came to your hips to pin them down. He even nibbled a bit on your plush lips, pinpricks from his teeth littering the numb region of your lower half. 

Kyojurou hummed with delight, letting his fingers join the fray to pry you open even further. You cringed as he inspected you. “That’s good enough.”

There was nothing left in you; no energy, no fight. You just laid there and took it as Kyojurou situated himself between your legs but above you, watching intently as your cunt sucked him in so easily after the rough fucking from his father. Part of you wondered if you’d even be pleasurable anymore after that desecration, but Kyojurou’s eyebrows knitted together and he stuck a knuckle in his mouth as he bottomed out inside of you.

You watched him in a daze as he thrusted in and out of you, hands more gentle on your hips than his father’s. He also went slower, and you could tell he was holding himself back. You wanted to be mad, but you appreciated his consideration. You didn’t know if you could handle a second destruction, so you didn’t complain.

“Look how pretty you are…” He groaned as he laid himself on top of you, careful not to bear all of his weight down on you. “I chose correctly, didn’t I?”

You just took shallow breaths in response as your cunt clenched around him. This experience felt better than the one from before, his pace slow and gentle enough for your nervous system to cool down and let you feel really good. 

“Well, I don’t know if it was much of a choice, rather than divine intervention.” He laughed breathlessly, his face contorting into one very pleased by the way your cunt clung to him. “When I discovered your birthday, I knew you must be the one.”

You tried to ignore his confusing words and let your hands weakly grasp his shoulders as his hips rolled into you just right. Nothing about this felt like before; it was ecstasy. Your hips began to chase their own end, making Kyojurou gasp at the friction.

“You share the same birthday as my late mother, after all.”

Shut up, you thought. You didn’t want to hear anymore, didn’t want to have to think anymore, you just wanted to feel. But he wouldn’t let you as he cradled you in his arms, holding you flush to his body as he humped into you. 

“I knew then, that you must have been an angel.”

“Stop…” your voice found itself. “Don’t…”

“And I told Father, and he, f- fuck…” His hips stuttered and stilled, but he wasn’t finished. Your grasp on his shoulders turned into a futile push, but then he began again, his pace a bit more uneven and crazed. “He agreed to meet you, and… and he must have liked you because… well…”

“Kyojurou.” You struggled beneath him. “Please, no more. I don’t want to—”

He shushed you, sticking a thumb between your teeth and against your tongue to silence you as he chased his high. His other fingers grasped onto your jaw, forcing you head to jerk up and look into his eyes. 

“Shh, I told you—” Beads of sweat fell onto his forehead, along with loose strands of hair. “I told you, we’re going to take very good care of you, ah—”

He buried his face into your neck, shoving your head aside as he emptied himself inside of you. That last push of his cock brushed right up against your cervix, along with your other special spots, pushing you to your own orgasm. You whined loudly as his hips jerked forward in overstimulation, fucking both of you through your high until he nearly collapsed on top of you.