#kimetsu zenitsu

The inn’s hallway was quiet except for the soft creak of the floorboards under your feet. Lantern-light pooled warm and gold across the wooden walls, catching on the thin sash of your robe as you tied it loosely at your waist.

Zenitsu followed behind you.

You could feel the heat of his stare on your back, heavy and simmering. Ever since the merchant had bowed a little too low when handing you your parcel earlier, Zenitsu’s whole mood had shifted. He was wound tight like a storm about to break.

You slowed your steps on purpose.

You secretly liked when he got like this. His voice dropping, eyes darker, hands restless like he didn’t know whether to pull you close or pin you in place.

“Zen,” you murmured, not turning around. “You good back there?”

You hear a low exhale.

“I’m fine,” he said, though the sharp edge in his voice gave him away. “Just… watching where you’re going.”

“Mmh,” you hummed, stopping near your room door. “You sure? You seem…”

You let your voice slip into a soft, teasing whisper.

“…tense.”

His footsteps halted behind you. The air shifted. That charged, prickling warmth crawled across your skin…the feeling of him trying so hard to stay calm. It always made your heart flutter.

When you finally turned to face him, he was already staring at you.

Yellow hair, broad in the shoulders, jaw tense, but still Zenitsu. Still the boy who adored too deeply and felt too hard. Sometimes when you look at him for too long, you are reminded of the boy you first met—years ago as teenagers.

“Why were you smiling at him like that?” he asked quietly, almost too calm. But you knew that tone. It was the one he used when jealousy curled tight in his chest.

You blinked, playing innocent. “At who?”

He gave you a look. One that said he knew exactly what you were doing and hated how much it worked on him.

“That merchant,” he said. “The one who practically tripped over himself bowing to you.” His jaw tensed. “You don’t have to look at him like that.”

“Like what?”

You stepped closer.

Zenitsu swallowed. “Like you’re… encouraging him.”

Your lips curved into a slow, wicked smirk. “Oh? Did that bother you?”

He stared at you, and something in his eyes flickered with heat and frustration.

“You know it did.”

“And what if I did it on purpose?” you whispered, leaning in just slightly. “Just to see what you’d do?”

He blinked once.

Then twice.

A pink color rising in his cheeks.

“You’re being rude,” he muttered, voice low.

You shrugged, pretending to adjust the loose knot of your robe. “Maybe I like when you get worked up.”

Zenitsu’s breath hitched. Even after all this time you still made him incredibly nervous. Only in this moment his frustration outweighed his nerves. He stepped forward, closing the space you’d left between you. His hand came up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your cheek.

“You want me jealous,” he said softly, so close you felt the words against your lips. “You like it when I can’t stand the thought of someone else touching you.” He tilted his head subtly.

Your pulse stumbled.

“And what if I do?” you whispered.

His gaze dropped to your mouth. A slow and possessive gaze that made heat bloom in your stomach.

“Then stop pretending you did nothing.” His voice dipped, intimate. “Stop acting like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your heart stammered as his hand slid to your waist, thumb brushing the edge of your sash. Enough to make your knees feel unsteady. Enough to wipe the smugness off your face in a single touch. He was already winning.

Zenitsu leaned in, his forehead nearly touching yours.

“If you want my attention,” he whispered, “all you have to do is ask.”

You swallowed, mouth dry. “Maybe I like it when other men give me attention.”

He exhaled a laugh. A low, incredulous, and a little dangerous laugh.

“Really? But you’re mine.”

“Mm. And what are you gonna do about it?” you breathed back, tilting your head up in challenge. “Are you gonna prove it?”

Zenitsu’s eyes narrowed in on you. His hand tightened on your waist. He pulled you inside the room and pushed you onto the bed.

Before you could even register the softness of the futon beneath you, Zenitsu was on you. He didn’t give you a chance to sit up, to smirk, to do anything. His knees caged in your hips, his hands planted on either side of your head.

“Prove it?” he repeated, his voice a low growl that vibrated through your chest. The sweet, nervous boy was gone, completely consumed by the man looming over you. His eyes, usually so wide and golden with panic, were now narrowed, burning with a possessive heat. “You think this is a game?”

You tried to arch a brow, to maintain the facade of control, but his intensity was overwhelming. “A fun game,” you managed, your voice thin.

He smirked, a slow curve of his lips.

“Wrong answer.”

One of his hands moved from the futon to your throat, not squeezing, just resting there. His thumb pressed gently against the frantic pulse beating in your neck. You gasped, your body going still beneath him.

“You like this,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to where his hand met your skin around your throat. He squeezed it slightly.

“You like knowing I can’t stand the thought of anyone else even looking at you.” He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “That merchant? He was imagining what it would be like to have you under him. I saw it in his eyes.”

His other hand found the loose knot of your clothes and tugged. The cool air hit your skin, making you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the fury in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“But he doesn’t get to,” Zenitsu continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “He doesn’t get to see you like this. He doesn’t get to hear you make those little sounds. He doesn’t get to feel you shake.”

He moved, his knee pressing between your thighs, forcing them apart. The pleasure was immediate, a friction that made your hips buck involuntarily. A soft moan escaped your lips, and you felt his smirk against your skin.

“See?” he murmured, trailing kisses down your neck. He bit down gently on the curve where your shoulder met your neck, a sharp, possessive sting that made you moan again. “Only I get to hear that.”

He shifted down, his mouth hot and demanding. He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t exploring. He was claiming you. His teeth scraped your collarbone, his tongue soothed the mark.

“Zenitsu,” you breathed, your hands finally moving from the futon to tangle in his thick, yellow hair.

He lifted his head, his eyes locking with yours. They were dark, pupils blown wide with lust.

“Say it again,” he commanded, his voice rough.

“Zenitsu,” you whispered, a genuine plea this time.

“Yes,” he growled, his hand tightening slightly on your throat. “Mmm. Tell me who you belong to.”

His gaze was feral, pinning you more effectively than his body ever could. He wanted to hear you break. He wanted to hear you surrender.

“Yours,” you finally gasped, the word torn from your throat. “I’m yours, Zenitsu.”

“Yeah… you are.” He whispered.

He finally released your throat, only to slide both hands down your body, gripping your hips and flipping you over with a strength that always surprised you. Your face pressed into the futon, the scent of clean linen filling your senses. He grabbed your hips, pulling them up, forcing you onto your hands and knees.

“You wanted me to prove it,” he said, his voice right behind you. He ran a hand down the curve of your spine. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your own name. The only name you’ll remember is mine.”

He positioned himself, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. He didn’t prepare you, he didn’t tease. He just pushed in with a deep thrust that buried him inside you. You cried out, your arms giving way as you collapsed onto the futon, the sudden, overwhelming stretch stealing your strength.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. He held still for a moment, letting you feel every inch of him throb inside you. “You always take me so well.”

Then he began to move. There was nothing gentle about it. It was hard, fast, punishing. Each thrust drove the air from your lungs, his hips slapping against your ass with a lewd sound. The futon creaked in protest, but it was drowned out by your moans.

“You’re so—so good at be—being mine,” he panted, leaning over your back, his chest pressing against you. He tangled a hand in your hair, pulling your head back. “Taking my cock like you were made for it. This—this is what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be—be reminded?” He couldn’t control the pretty moans escaping his mouth between the words.

“Zenitsu,” you groaned, his name a broken sound on your lips.

“Say it,” he demanded, his rhythm never faltering. “Tell me who’s fucking you.”

“You! You are!” you squealed. Your body bouncing with the force of his thrusts.

He released your hair, to slide his hand around your body, his fingers finding your clit. He rubbed it in tight circles, matching the pace of his hips. The sensation was too much, a hot wave of pleasure that crashed over you.

Heat rose in your cheeks. Your legs shook, your pussy clenched around his cock. Your vision went white. You let out a loud broken moan as you reached your climax.

But he didn’t stop.

He didn’t falter.

He continued to pound into you through your orgasm.

The overstimulation was a blinding and divine sensation that had you moaning uncontrollably into the futon. It was too much, too intense, but you never wanted it to end.

“Zenitsu, please,” you choked out, your voice a breathless mess. “I can’t—”

“You can,” he growled, his voice a low command. “You will. Give me another one.”

His words, his touch, the rhythm of his hips—it all led into a single, hot point of pleasure deep inside of you. Something was building, more powerful than before. A familiar knot formed in your stomach, only this time it was stronger. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your muscles locked up. His cock slammed against that sweet spot inside you again and again.

“Let go for me,” he demanded, his voice desperate as he restrained his own release. “Come on. Show me how much you love this. Show me who you belong to.”

That was all it took. With a loud squeal of his name, you came undone. A gush of wetness came from you, soaking his thighs and the futon beneath you. Your body squirmed, from a violent wave of ecstasy that ripped through you. You were hardly aware of his sharp inhale, or the way his rhythm stuttered for a second as your release flooded over him.

“Fuck,” he moaned, a sound so heavenly. “So—so fucking hot.”

He drove into you even harder, chasing his own climax as your body continued to tremble. His grip on your hips, hard. His thrusts, sloppy. With a deep groan, he buried himself deep inside of you, his cock twitching as he spilled his hot seed deep within your cunt.

He collapsed over your back, his weight pressing you into the soaked futon, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You were both a mess, slick with sweat and your own release.

He pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then another to the back of your neck. He slowly pulled out, and you whimpered at the loss, feeling a fresh trickle of fluid run down your inner thigh.

He rolled you over gently, his expression softening as he looked down at you, at your flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. He brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice back to the sweet, tender tone you knew so well.

You managed a weak smile. “I think I broke.” You joked.

He chuckled, a low, warm sound that made your heart flutter. “Good.” He leaned down and kissed you. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours.

zenitsu’s crystal looking tears stained his flushed cheeks as he tugged on the ropes around his wrists that were tied to the headboard above him. he wanted to feel your skin so badly, but he knew better than to actually attempt to break out of them. his hips make tiny thrusts up into the tight ring of your hand as he feels his next orgasm getting closer.

“pleasepleaseplease, can- can i cum again? your hand feels so good!” zenitsu pleaded, his eyes closed shut as he shudders to your experienced fingers. you tsk at the sight of your boyfriend not learning from his punishment and purposely slow the movement of your hand, zenitsu predictably whined at the action. “don’t forget why you’re here, baby. don’t you have something to say to me?” you ask pointedly, your gorgeous eyes piercing his soul that he doesn’t bother denying.

“i-i’m sorry for being jealous- ah!- and for believing you would l-leave me! please forgive me, i love you— HAH?!” zenitsu’s apology was cut off when your furious stroking continued, you brought your free hand to grab zenitsu’s cheeks and pull him into a short, but loving kiss as a reward for admitting his mistake. zenitsu pants like a dog when you pull back, his brown eyes staring into yours with so much adoration and love. “good boy. i love you more, always. cum for me.” you command, and zenitsu’s reaction is instant.

his toes curl and his eyes roll back to his head as he finally climaxes all over your fist with a blissful moan escaping his lips. you untie his bonds and straddle his waist, your ass facing his soft cock. “you got one more left for me, love?” you ask, zenitsu only has to take one look at your nude body before he’s hard again. you giggle when he nods his head furiously, you lift yourself up to line up the head of his cock along the lips of your pussy before shifting down to take his fully. you both let out enjoyable sounds of pleasure as zenitsu holds onto your hips with shaky hands.

even though you popped his cherry a long time ago, he still acts a sex deprived virgin. it was immensely adorable. “silly zenitsu, i would never leave you for anyone. not when you make me feel this good.” he didn’t last four thrusts until he spilled inside you.